Review: G.I. Joe Retaliation

Ideally speaking, I would be an idiot to go for a GI Joe movie and expect sense out of it, but then Retaliation had me laughing so hard, that I had to write this out.

This is what the film is made up of:

Actors trying to look cool while spouting meaningless patriotism in dialogue, Bruce Willis showing off his arsenal (snigger!) hidden under the kitchen table, Adrianne Palicki showing cleavage that goes up to her navel, followed by random explosions and a world domination plan which is foiled at the last minute.

Oh! And Ninjas.

THIS. IN 3D. GO JOE!

The film picks immortal characters from the popular toy range/cartoon series, manages to get together the worst ensemble cast possible, then proceeds to ruin the awesomeness of the source material for the new generation of Joe-watchers. The only reason why one should waste money on this half-assed attempt at a Joe film is to see just how bad it can be.

The fact that the director, Jon Chu, had previously made visual masterpieces like Step Up 2, Step Up 3D and Justin Bieber: Never Say Never, should be evidence enough to figure out how good this film might be. But I do admire Chu’s treatment of the Ninjas in his film (except that they keep using guns rather than swords and that RZA randomly starts talking in rapster-ese while pretending to be a Japanese martial arts master). That fancy Ninja-fight scene that everyone has been talking about so much, yeah its only more awesome than what you could ever dream of.

“Oooooh! What does this button do?!”

Coming to the actors now.

Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson as Roadblock: I’m guessing The Rock’s discussion with the director, prior to the film, would have been something like this!

The Rock: “So I think I want to portray Roadblock as this really sensitive dude! You know? Like some serious method acting!”

Director: LOLWUT!

The Rock: WHY DOES NO ONE TAKE ME SERIOUSLY?!

Director: Fiiine! You can flash heavy artillery on screen. Happy?!

The Rock: Yaaaaayyy!

“I like. Big. Guns. And I cannot lie!”

Adrianne Palicki as Lady Jaye: Palicki’s character hates the fact that women are considered inferior to men in the armed forces. So to get back at the system, she keeps flashing her cleavage. All. The. Time.

Bruce: “Are those real?”
The Rock: “WHY DOES NO ONE TAKE ME SERIOUSLY?!”

D.J. Cotrona as Flint: Now I have always thought of Flint as one of the most badass characters in the GI Joe storyline, but Controna’s role is so limited, The Rock’s left bicep looked more important. Controna’s only job is to look good through the film, while trying to hit on Palicki, who is about three and a half foot taller than him.

“What’s that letter that comes after A?”

Ray Park as Snake Eyes: I would have really written nice things about Ray Park for this film, only if we could somehow SEE HIS FREAKIN’ FACE! Unfortunately that is the curse of playing Snake Eyes, nobody believes it was you!

“Don’t I look FAAAA-bulous?!”

Lee Byung-Hun as Storm Shadow: Probably the only redeeming factor in the film. Lee exudes the same amount of awesomeness and charisma that Storm Shadow has in the GI Joe series.

“Does this midget even know of the things I can do with a blade?!”

Elodie Yung as Jinx: I still don’t understand how a Japanese swordswoman would have an English accent. She probably was trained by RZA. But all in all, pathetic role. Her dialogues had less impact than Snake Eyes’. WHO DOESN’T EVEN SPEAK!

I tried to google Elodie Yung, but instead got this picture of Dwayne Johnson, from when he was young.

Bruce Willis as General Joe Colton: With this film, Bruce Willis has officially attained Alok Nath status in Hollywood action films. He is just there, pretending to be the big daddy who knows everything there is to know about gun fights and looking cool.

Final Verdict: Go and have a hearty laugh, but be sure to choose a cheap theater.

“I actually have no clue where I’m headed, because THIS DAMN MASK DOESN’T HAVE ANY EYE SOCKETS!”

Kai Po Che: Reactions

While friends and colleagues insisted that I write a review for Kai Po Che as soon as possible, I think I may have to disappoint them. I believe I am not in the right position to be reviewing the film. I am too emotionally invested in everything the film tries to portray.

However, I did want to write something after having watched the film and so this post has come about. This may be long and self-indulgent at times, please bear with me for that. There may also be plenty of spoilers coming up. If you are yet to watch the film, I’d suggest you stay away from this post.

I decided to finally go watch Kai Po Che today, after fiddling with the idea for hours. It was a busy day in office after  which, mom wanted me to be a part of another social engagement. Do I regret my decision? Not one bit. The film ended on a very weirdly Bollywood note, I agree. But for most of its run time, it had me reminisce times that had long passed by. Some of these memories weren’t pleasant, but were still stuck somewhere in the deepest of recesses of my mind. They took me back to an Ahemdabad which I seldom talk about, simply because it is too damn difficult.

The following are some of the incidences which came back in flashes while watching the film.

January 26, 2001. Somewhere around 8:30 AM. Most of Ahmedabad is either half-asleep, or watching the Republic Day parade on TV. I, all of 12 years old, was in school, attending our own little function on the stage in the playground. Anurag and I had just finished performing “Chhodo Kal Ki Baatein” and were now watching the rest of the show from a window in the classroom nearby. After about five minutes, we felt the bench moving on its own. Soon the door started shutting and opening violently and there were cracks on the roof of the classroom. The ground below us vibrating crazily. We looked out of the window again, total chaos. Varghese Sir, our school principal was yelling into the microphone, asking the students to calm down, with nobody listening. I ran out and somehow caught hold of my sister, she was 9 then. In a few minutes we heard a loud crashing sound. As if a meteorite had hit earth (That was my first reaction. I was only 12, remember?). Later when we started rushing home, we saw that Shikhar apartments, located very close to our school was now only a huge heap of rubble. It took with it many, many people. Most were unnamed entities for me, but a few people I knew. These people had visited my place only a few weeks ago. They were all sitting with us laughing and joking, having tea. Now they were part of the debris that the fire brigade and the police was somehow trying to make sense of.

Early March, 2002. Around 10 AM. It was a Sunday and Darkwing Duck was showing on TV. Mom was busy in the kitchen when she noticed huge clouds of smoke coming from a short distance away. Dad was out of town for some work and I was of course, man of the house. Some neighbours came over and told us that Ravji Supermarket, near Shivranjani crossroads, was on fire. I got on to my bicycle and promptly went off to investigate. A huge mob was standing out on the road, as the supermarket was up in flames. The fire was so violent, I could feel the heat on my face, even though I was easily about 50 feet away. Some of the bystanders told us that the staff was first asked to leave, after which the mob ransacked the supermarket and then set it on fire. There was a lone reporter from Star News and his cameraman, who were trying to capture the magnitude of the incident. Our cable guy, a Mithun Chakraborty fan himself, was part of the mob and was yelling into the reporter’s boom mic, “Humare itne Kar sevak bhai beheno ko train mein jalaa diya. Aaj ek dukaan hi toh jalee hain! Hinduon ki aag bhadak gayi hain, kal akhaa Amdavad jalega”. The mob had apparently branded the store as a Muslim establishment and this was only the beginning of the Hindu vengeance.  Over the next few days the city had literally turned into a war zone. There was hardly anyone present at school. Juhapura had turned into a fortress and my classmates who lived there, refused to come out. Shrinand Nagar, the housing society located closest to Juhapura had turned into an RSS camp. Swayam Sevaks organised self defence camps and conducted classes where Hindu propaganda was being fed to young boys from around the area. They taught them how to build petrol bombs, how to use the sword and how Muslims were the worst thing to have happened to the Indian society. Mom wouldn’t let us out for even an hour. Not only because the city was unsafe, but also because if these RSS types ever caught us, we’d become like them, she said.

There were happy memories too. Like the time when Elton and Tushar thought it would be a great idea to take me to Mount Abu without telling me where we were going. Or the umpteen hours of kite flying on Elton’s terrace, where after screaming, “Lapett!” “Kaipo chhe!” through the day, we would sit back and watch the tukkals flying peacefully in the night sky. Navratri nights when every girl in college looked like she was a supermodel and 2 AM bike trips were made to Vastrapur lake, in anticipation of crossing first base. When Elton and I would ask the same girl out for coffee and neither of us actually took her out. Times when a crazy fresher’s party turned into a midnight adventure escape from the police. The hillarious conversation we had with ticket checkers on Ahmedabad railway station because we were not carrying platform tickets.

Yes, there were memories of happiness and despair, equally spread out and they were all revisited today.

Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola: Review

As I stepped out of the movie hall today, I tried hard to digest everything that just happened inside. Did I just watch a film that was pure cinematic brilliance, or was it utter rubbish? I couldn’t decide. Matru Ki Bijlee Ka Mandola (MKBM) started of as an intelligent, yet witty stock of reality of rural India. Then it moved into the territory of the absurd, transcending slowly into a love triangle and ending in the victory of good against evil.

There was another film, Peepli Live (2010), which documented the stark realities of rural India in a funny and intelligent manner. The film was excellent and truly deserved all the adulation it got. For the first time I witnessed the talent of one of our finest actors, Nawazuddin Siddique. Though what I truly loved about the film was the fact that it ended on a very realistic note. That I think is what my problem with MKBM is.

While excellent actors, quirky dialogues (+delivery), fine music and a less-than-disappointing storyline is all good, MKBM somehow doesn’t let you exit the movie hall with the satisfaction of having watched a brilliant film.

Moving to individual actors.

Arya Babbar: Why isn’t this guy doing more films? Babbar plays the spoilt rich brat who gets beaten in all of his endeavors through the film. He is a good actor, carries himself well through the film and does justice to his bit. Wonder when he will ever play a central character in a major Hindi film.

Shabana Azmi: Class personified. Azmi has the grace of a swan, and the sting of a bee. Seducing men at her will, leaving them high and dry whenever she decides to. Do note this excellent scene where she talks to her son about the true meaning of growth. Pure hindi, pure class.

Anushka Sharma: As gorgeous as she looks, Sharma is probably the weakest link of the film. She does her best with a sketchily etched character, but then in front of the other performances in the film, she falls short. “Meena Kumari Complex” is the best thing that could happen with her character, but then what? Nothing more to offer to the film, except having conversations with Matru and Mandola.

Imran Khan: Surprise, surprise. The youngest Khan probably decided to grow up. After that unbelievably daft act in Ek Main Aur Ek Tu, Khan does a wonderful job in MKBM. He plays a smart, JNU-educated lad, who has to serve as a driver/advisor to the big man in the film just because of a loan he can’t repay. He is also something beyond that, but I guess you’ll have to watch the film to see what it means.

Pankaj Kapur: One of the most compelling reasons why you should watch the film. Kapur represents the duality of an Indian. While consciously he is an ambitious entrepreneur, with ideas bordering the God-complex; subconsciously, he is a simpleton who is happy with what he has. The film depends heavily on Kapur’s ability to portray this duality with finesse. Kapur delivers on the role with such precision, that you are left with an urge to stand up and applaud.

 

 

Final Verdict: Watch for Pankaj Kapur’s mind-blowing act, Azmi’s special speech and that adorable pink buffalo, Gulabo.

Open Letter to a Police Officer

I’m sorry, Dear Police Officer. 

I’m sorry for being that noisy, irrational fool, who blames you for everything that goes wrong around me. Let it be a stolen bicycle, or a woman getting sexually assaulted, my reaction is the same.

I’m sorry for believing that I have absolutely no role in ensuring the safety and security of my self or my property. 

I’m sorry for thinking that policemen are all corrupt individuals, who aren’t sensitive enough to understand what a woman actually goes through when being pitted against the savagery of man. 

I’m sorry that as a woman I’ve nurtured my son in to believing that he owns the world and that every woman here will always be a step below him. I’m sorry for making my son a delusional idiot who can’t respect a woman’s choice of clothing or her decision to roam on the city street at any point in time.

I’m sorry for not having pulled my son’s collar, looked him in the eye and told him that he is just a boy, nothing more, nothing less. I should have slapped him when he misbehaved with a girl for the first time. I should have told him that if he were to ever misbehave with a girl or a woman again, I would call up the police myself. 

I’m sorry that I, along with my husband and son proclaimed that the woman deserved what she got and if she was out of her house after 8PM, she invited trouble. 

I’m sorry that as a father I’ve always asked my daughter to come back home and not protest when a guy made lewd comments about her. I’m sorry, I never ensured that there is no discrimination in my house, based on my child’s gender. I’m sorry that I never raised my voice against that neighbour who abuses his wife. 

I could have gotten a few people together and made sure that there are no college rowdies in my locality who whistle at every woman crossing the road. I could have at least called you up and registered a complaint against these losers. A woman is raped every 20 minutes in India but only 10% of cases are actually registered with the police, because I didn’t come forward.

Among every 1 lakh of population, there are four sexual offences happening in India, but I choose to look the other way, I choose to reach work on time instead and I’m sorry for that.

I know your fraternity isn’t completely clean. But I also know that for every cop who can be bribed and thinks rape is a woman’s fault, there are ten who will come forth and help me out.

Your system isn’t perfect, just like mine. But hey, we’re all trying, aren’t we?

I’m sorry I didn’t realise that you’re a father or a mother too. You have wives, husbands and kids waiting for you at home. I forget that what frightens me about the society today, frightens you too. I’m sorry that I don’t acknowledge the fact that you are as human as me. 

In my loud protests against violence and crime, I forget that you’re committed to keep the streets safe. That is your job and you’re doing it while I never had the guts or the inclination to do it myself.

I think you deserve a lot more respect than what I’ve given. I applaud your bravery and perseverance. I promise that I will work with you in defeating this wave of crime that we are facing together. I’m sorry I haven’t done it till now.

I’m sorry, Dear Police Officer, I’m sorry.

Book Review: Who Let The Dork Out

Dear Blog,

Today I happened to finish the most glorious book in the history of NRM (Non-resident Malayali) literature. Its called Who Let The Dork Out, by Sidin Vadukut (Irinjalakuda, about 50 kms away from Shantha amai’s place in Guruvayoor. Does he know her? Will he give me an autographed t-shirt? I don’t know).

Now you know how I never try and exaggerate on important literary works and their effects on me. So when I say the third installment of the Dork series (After Dork and God Save The Dork) has made me feel better about spending a day with a book, I mean it (Not like that fraud Tharoor boy’s Pax Indica bullshit. Bloody 7,000 pages of snore inducing kakkoos material. Pandaaram Adangaan! Thank God I only read the first 15 pages at Crossword, before pushing off to Pizza Hut).

Vadukut tells the story of our ill-fated protagonist and his exploits with the prestigious AVG 2010 (Allied Victory Games 2010) playing in the background (No marks for guessing the similarity between another prestigious tournament that starts with a ‘C’). Using his lucid writing style and ingenious comic timing, Vadukut doesn’t waste a single moment in explaining the fickle nature of life or the complexity of people’s minds or the colour of the autumn leaf or any such nonsense. He dives straight into the story and takes you on a joyride of situational comedy and hillarious plot twists, culminating to the inevitable victory of our hero.

What I really enjoyed in the book was Vadukut’s extremely careful treatment of the vivacious, titular (snigger!) character, Robin ‘Einstein’ Varghese a.k.a the Dork. He isn’t stupid, not one measure. Unlucky? Maybe. But can he think of a plausible solution on his feet, while safeguarding the interests of everyone around? Maybe.

However, my dear Blog we shouldn’t be so quick in our judgement about him. Varghese is a very nice fellow on the inside (A lot like Unni cheriachhan, only a bit more international). There are portions in the book which will make you feel sad for the simpleton, but then like Jagathi Sreekumar he will go on to do some Oscar award winning comedy sequence and you will be left laughing out loudly (not loud enough that your boss steps out of her cabin. But yes, loudly).

Its like a bloody one man show throughout the book, though the usual supporting characters are superstars in their own right. Even though Gouri (Varghese’s girlfriend) as a character is extremely annoying (mild vomiting sensation after remembering past girlfriend), I felt that she could have used some more space. Rahul Gupta, Sugandh, Karthik Subramaniam, all older and more prominent characters from previous books, make fleeting appearances in this one too.

Newly introduced supporting characters are notable as well. Especially Anushka Sharma. I’ve had dreams about her. But more on that later (actually you’re just a blog, so I can leave you for 5 minutes, go to the loo and umm… Bye!).

Anyway, so new supporting characters, yes. I especially liked Javelin Joyyontoh, fraud Kedarji, Colonel Kaldog, Manju Warrier and that moronic Giggs fellow (You don’t know anything about these characters, you say? HA HA HA HA! you make me laugh my dear blog. I’m here to talk about the book, not fucking rewrite it for you).

Ultimately, I can’t deny that the book has severely influenced my writing style, waking up my inner NRM. But you won’t understand anything I say, till you actually read the book (I know you, I know! You’re going all Vish Please! But really, just try and read it once and I am 1000% sure that you will love it).

-Visshy

Packin’ bags!

So if you aren’t one of the three billion I’ve told already, I am in the middle of switching jobs. I’m leaving the general newspaper I was working for, starting today and moving to a more business oriented newspaper. BECAUSE I LOVE BUSINESS JOURNALISM SO MUCH….OMG!!! *looks away*

Anyway, since I have a week long vacation before I start working for the new paper (OMG BIZ JOURNALISM!!), I am going to do what every sane thinking human being in my age group does, roll a joint take a vacation.  And since it is under my current budget, I am going to smoke weed visit Ahmedabad, Gujarat.

Its a lot like Vile Parle, except we have better roads, better water supply, a flyover that is actually complete, the river front project, better street foo-Okay, its not like Vile Parle. But we have Gujjus.

However, the worst part about vacationing are those six dozen dreadful hours I spend in doing the heinous act of– packing my bags neatly. It used to be much easier before. I would try folding two pairs of jeans and a t-shirt into my travel bag, and it would appear like I couldn’t fit another piece of clothing. Then I would go to sleep, and that is when the Packing fairy Mom would come over and methodically pack every apparel in my wardrobe, in colour combinations, where every shirt has a sticker with a code that matches with the sticker on the exact right pair of pants. My mother is effectively T-800 for unfolded clothes and unpacked bags. But ever since I started living on my own, packing has been the most worrying aspect, closely followed by, “How much Ujaala should you soak your white shirt in?”

But coming to think of it, what the fuck is the point behind trying to pack neatly? No seriously! Are your clothes going to feel uncomfortable inside your bag? Will your tie look puffy because of all the cotton tears it cried on road?!! Will your pair of Levis cry out for help from the authorities at the airport?

If all your clothes don’t fit in your bag, then its probably a sign that you need to buy a bigger bag, or that you’re a woman. Either way, packing clothes neatly in your bag makes no sense at all. Not at least to me.

Anyway, it time for me to get on to snorting some coke my way to Ahmedabad!

Dawn of the Kapoor- Barfi review

(Note: Barfi stands for the character, while Barfi! is for the film)

Move over, Khans! Its time for a Kapoor to take over Bollywood, all over again. Unlike his archaic competitors (particularly the ones who can’t do a chase scene without a body double), the slick Kapoor lad is probably the star we were all looking for. Ever since the unfortunate Saawariya till the latest Barfi!, Ranbir Kapoor  has continued to bedazzle the audience with his mastery over the craft of newbie acting. Give him a director who has finally developed some discipline over his talent (Anurag Basu in spectacular form), and he is sure to give you a blockbuster with a heart.

Moving away from his usual, dark and gloomy offering, Basu brings forth a delightfully happy film. Barfi! is one of those films which has everything good in exactly the right proportions. Following a non-linear narrative, Barfi!  is supported with the commentary from supporting characters, each adding their two bits about the extremely loveable, Barfi (originally ‘Murphy’). Each character written to near perfection, each plot device used in the most innovative manner possible, this is what good cinema is all about.

Visually, Barfi! is the equivalent of what a 7 course meal is to a homeless man. Ravi Varman’s amazing ability to capture the reality of life on film is something that enhances the film’s appeal. The beauty of Darjeeling, Kolkata and some rural areas of Bengal (I think!)  make you wonder the need for the frivolous use of foreign locales during the last two decades of Bollywood.

Barfi! also marks Pritam’s return to originality in music. Thanks to the lack of dialogues, Barfi as a character depends heavily on the background music. Pritam does every bit of justice to the brilliance of the film and offers a bit more. Swanand Kirkire’s words amplify the songs’ ability to convey Barfi’s state of mind. Do not miss the  insanely cute ‘Picture Shuru’ right before the movie begins. You’ll know that you’re in for a treat.

Coming to the actors,

Ranbir Kapoor, as Barfi

Barfi steals stuff for the poor, but he is also funny as hell. Barfi can’t hear, but can dance; he can’t sing but can tell his lover that he isn’t the best choice. This is probably one of those characters you will remember for years to come, like Bachchan’s Vijay, or Salman’s Prem, or even SRK’s Rahul. Kapoor is so amazing in his portrayal of the loveable deaf and mute, that you will want to pull his cheeks and give him a tight hug after (okay, enough fangirl-ism!). Oozing innocence and optimism in every frame, Kapoor becomes Barfi with such ease, you wish you could take him home (sorry, couldn’t stop myself!).

Priyanka Chopra, as Jhilmil Chatterjee

Working at Ranbir’s pace and matching his brilliance is no menial task, but Chopra does it with such aplomb, you wonder where all this talent had disappeared lately. Portraying an autistic child and making it so believable, I believe Chopra would probably need a standing ovation just for that. Chopra’s Jhilmil makes Barfi question the minute traces of selfishness in his personality, helping him eliminate even that. She is effectively the second best in the film, if not as good as Kapoor.

Ileana D’Cruz  as Shruti Sengupta

Its been a while since a newbie has managed to look so good in her maiden Bollywood venture (okay, except Yami Gautam because she is awesome!). D’Cruz look beautiful, acts well and keeps quite when she is not required. All signs of a leading lady in the making. If anything, she may need to work on her body language a bit, comes across as awkward sometimes. Apparently, Katrina Kaif was approached for this role earlier. I don’t want to think about it. No.

All of the supporting cast is pitch perfect. Ashish Vidyarthi comes back to Hindi films after a hiatus and still looks good. Saurabh Shukla, playing the bumbling police officer running after Barfi gained many laughs through the film. Rupa Ganguly playing Ileana’s mother is another noteworthy character in the film.

Final Verdict: RANBIRRULEZ!!

The Vadivelu factor

If you think of yourself as someone knowing everything about Indian cinema, and haven’t heard of Vadivelu, I will look at you suspiciously and then proceed to spit on the ground with disgust.

Fans would recognise him by many names. Most popularly as, “Kaipullai” or “Steve Waugh”, or “Soona Paana” and “Sunky Monkey”. You may remember him as the village simpleton, who loses his arm in a feud between cousins, in the iconic Thevar Maghan (1992). Or as actor-dancer-director Prabhu’s friend who wraps a towel on his hip before wearings pants, in Kadhalan (1994). Or even as the cowardly king with a Salvador Dahli moustache in Imsai Arasan 23am Pulikesi (2006).

With his unending wit and impeccable comic timing, he has immortalised mundane lines such as “Wandutaanya, Wandutaanya!” (Oh man! He’s here!), “Avanaa Neeyu?!” (You’re that guy?), “Maapu…?? Vecchutaaya Aapu!” (Dear nephew…? He’s put me in a fix!) and “Vadai Pochhe” (Lost my Vadai!).

Ever since he became active in films during the early 90s, Vadivelu has managed to whisk away all comedy sequences in the Tamil film industry, from the then comedy kings, Gaundamani and Senthil. Many new comics have come in after him, but this 51-year old ‘Madurai Puyal’ still stands strong. With over 350 films in his kitty, he practically rules the market (closest competitor being contemporary Vivek).

Any keen watcher of Tamil films would agree, that Vadivelu has now achieved God-status. So much so, that his latest roles are merely a shadow of his glorious past.

It is a fact that Vadivelu is now often being typecast as the dimwit, who gets beaten up at any given opportunity. Perhaps the producers/directors are to be blamed. But the man is capable of so much more, so many more films he can single-handedly turn into blockbusters.

Take the Prashant-starrer, Winner for example. The film has a fairly simple plot, with over-written action scenes and facepalm-inducing acting. However, the antics of the adorable “Kaipullai”, easily one of the milestones in Vadivelu’s career, turned the film into a commercial success, gaining Superhit status.

The man’s life off-screen is no less exciting. A massive war of words with Vijaykanth (Captain) on various public forums, a failed political career, and unnecessary comments about Rajnikanth’s latest venture Rana later, Vadivelu is now facing an effective, but unofficial, five-year ban from acting in Tamil cinema. While this is a massive opportunity for younger comics to try their luck, it has dampened the mood for many connoisseurs of Tamil films, especially the ones watching them simply for Vadivelu.

Will this be the end of the Madurai phenomenon? Only time will tell.

The Pugilist

The Pugilist is a working title and will be changed as soon as I come up with something better.

The college bell was ringing loud enough for him to hear, but Vijay Vardhan refused to budge. He was still standing near the water cooler, gawking at her. Sitting amongst her friends at the college canteen, she was clapping, as that guitar totting freak sang some English song for all of them. The freak would occasionally wink at her and she would lower her eyes and just giggle.

“That guy is such a sham!” Vijay seemed to be angrier with the way Mansi was responding.

Of course, Mansi Contractor was his senior in college and a fresher wouldn’t dare to go and talk to any of “them”, let alone sharing his feelings. The boys from the second year section at St Xavier’s College, Ahmedabad were fairly big for 20 year olds, besides, he hadn’t made enough friends who would come to his aid, if there was some kind of a brawl.

But then he couldn’t miss how her silk smooth hair fell on her face when she laughed. She would roll her eyes and smile playfully, pushing him, whenever that freak would come closer. The white tee shirt, hugging her fit body. Oh she was hot, alright. Whenever she walked by, the scent of her fancy perfume would linger around for a few seconds. While the sight of her fish-shaped, Kajal-lined eyes, made Vijay keep staring at her without blinking even once. Sometimes, she would catch him staring and Vijay wished that the ground swallowed him. But then she would quietly walk away, like nothing ever happened.

“Dude, you need to stop checking her out. If any of those seniors see us, we’re going to be pulp,” Pragnesh Shah was just being the pussy that he was. But then Shah was probably the only guy in college who thought Vijay wasn’t entirely cuckoo!

“No way, Shah. Today, I’m going to go talk to her. I’ve been thinking over the last one week and I’ve had enough of this silent staring business. I’m going to go talk to her and buy her a, err… a bag of chips. Yes!”

Before Shah could stop him, Vijay was already on his path to destruction. There were a bunch of senior boys standing around the corner, watching him. But instead of opposing, they just kept looking, eager to know what will follow. Mansi had been one of those girl that everyone wanted to take out for coffee, or a bike ride, but she had always said no with a smile. And here was a fresher, ready to try his luck with her. Definitely a sight, they thought.

Vijay felt his legs refusing to move and asphyxia kicking in, drops of sweat on his forehead and hands trembling. For a second he thought that he should simply turn back, but then she looked at him. The way she bit her lower lip, looking at him suspiciously, with the faintest hint of a smile was on her face, he couldn’t turn back. Like a moth finding its way to a candle, Vijay kept walking.

Both of them had their eyes locked for about 5 seconds, neither saying anything to the other. The second years boys gathered around Vijay and one of them slapped his back, prompting him to talk to her.

“Umm…Hi!” He was still trying to keep his hands down, waving them like this made no sense.

“Hi!?” Her eyes moving as his hands waved around.

“So, umm…hi! My name is Vijay Vardhan and I’m uh, I’m a fresher here”

“Oh…I’m Mansi Contractor and umm, I’m your senior” she had one of those smiles, the ones before she played mischief. “You want something?”

“Umm..no, actually yes…no wait, no! I wanted to ask you, if you wanted s0mething. Tea? Coffee? Maaza? Chips? anything?”

“You work with the canteen?”

“No, no! I was just asking you, so that we could talk, maybe”

“We’re talking now, right?”

“Oh… yeah!”

The mischievous grin now turned into a genuine smile now. “Okay, I’ll have that cream and onion thing and a cold drink.”

Over the big bag of chips and drinks, he told her about his school and how he was really enjoying college, considering his school didn’t even have a playground. He really wanted to play a sport actively, he said. He ended up telling her how he could play the guitar as well. How that internet course had helped him learn the chords and how he could play Chura Liya Hain Tumne Jo Dil Ko, with ease.

She told him how she was loving it at Xavier’s Ahmedabad as well. It was her third year in the city, since her family moved here from Delhi. Vijay, had lived in Ahmedabad for over 8 years now, there was hardly anything he didn’t know about the place. Plans were made to visit the old city soon, as Mansi had never seen that part. She never felt the need to visit the old place after living in the posh Judge’s Bungalow area. Also, her father was particularly against visiting that area.

In the next few weeks, their friendship grew from waving hands at each other to exchanging numbers. The chats then extended beyond college hours, over text messages and late night phone calls. Since neither said it out, they never agreed to the fact that they were highly attracted to each other.

Then one day Vijay offered to drop her home and for the first time ever, Mansi smiled and agreed to sit on the back of a guy’s bike. As they walked to the parking lot, something caught Vijay’s eye. He stopped near a torn A4 size poster, sticking on the street light pole, just gazing.

“Boxing try-outs on Saturday?! Wow, you’re into boxing, Vijay?” asked Mansi, tugging at his shirt sleeve.

“Since I was 13, I’ve been practicing on my own. Boxing is what I really want to do in life.”

“Wow, I never knew this. So you’re going for the try-outs then?”

“Nahi yaar!”

“Arey, but why?”

“Tu jaanti nahi meri Maa kaun hai!” (to be continued…)

Deshey Basara: The Dark Knight Rises

Stop right there, you. Yes, you. The one who is unnecessarily frowning and complaining about how The Dark Knight Rises (TDKR) is not like The Dark Knight (TDK), or about how Bane is nothing like The Joker. Yes you’re probably right but that is simply because TDKR is not TDK. These are two entirely different entities. In the latter you saw how The Batman rose to be a hero, turned into a masked menace and finally retired a ‘villain’. The former is about him waking up again and taking his rightful position as Gotham’s protector. To the extent that even if the phrase Deshey Basara (He Rises) is used in Bane’s background score, it stands for the broken Bat’s rising.

But it doesn’t end there. Deshey Basara also stands for the rise of every human soul from threat, while depending on only one instinct, “the fear of death”. They may be hurt or may even die, but their rise makes them immortal.

There is a lot of gloom, all through the film. At certain points through the film, you would feel that this is the end, nothing more can be done, no more tragedy for Bruce Wayne. That is exactly when Christopher Nolan takes a step forward and shows you, how things can get worse.

This movie isn’t exactly ‘about’ Batman, but more about Bruce Wayne. It is about how this mere human (with shrinking pockets) can make a difference and how breaking him sends out a signal strong enough to have the toughest of men fall on their knees.

But admist all this gloom and despair, there are moments of hope sewn in so perfectly, it almost feels like real life. Let it be the bonding between a butler and his orphaned master, or between two orphans, or even between a police commissioner and his detective, each one is special and is grand enough to make you pause for a bit and rewind it a little.

Having said all this, let me confirm that the last 30 minutes of the film are probably the best 30 minutes among superhero films ever. Easily among the top ten best endings ever.

Looking at the actors now:

The support caste is simply brilliant. Even if some of the characters have no names, they are awesome for sure. Liam Neeson makes a short 1 minute come-back and I don’t know why that image is still in my head.

Michael Caine as Alfred Pennyworth: Easily an enormous part of the film’s soul quotient. Caine displays emotions that any parent would have toward their depressed child. Alfred is the only character who truly understands Bruce’s agony and loss in its entirety and Caine does every bit of justice to the role.

Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox: As the brains behind Wayne Enterprises, Fox is one of the few characters privy to Bruce’s dual lives. Freeman is simply a treat to watch, though one wishes there was more of him on screen.

Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle/Catwoman: No she isn’t Michelle Pfeiffer or Halle Berry, but Hathaway is every bit of a Catwoman as any can be. She is hot, no doubt, but Hathaway’s portrayal isn’t just about looking pretty. She shifts from being a witty con artist, to the hero’s sidekick with such ease, you will only sigh in satisfaction.

Marion Cotillard as Miranda Tate: Wow. I can’t say anything more, it would be injustice to her role. But remember, this femme fatale from Inception, continues to sizzle in all awesome-ness.

Gary Oldman as Commissioner Jim Gordon: Some heroes wear masks and work nights, others wear a uniform and work through the day. Oldman as Commissioner Gordon is one of those characters who have stayed consistent through the trilogy. Is he anything less than mind-blowing here? No sir. Awesome as ever!

Joseph-Gordon Levitt as John Blake: The surprise package of the film. Levitt, in his portrayal of a rookie police officer, is going to make girls go weak in their knees. He is so good throughout that you wonder why the Dark Knight series is just a trilogy. Makes you feel that probably Nolan should consider a spin-off with Levitt alone.

Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne/The Batman: Bale is my only Batman. I cannot imagine anyone donning that suit except him now. It would practically be impossible to trump his portrayal. He fights, gets beaten, gets up, gets beaten again, but he never loses hope. Bale is easily one of the two best actors in the film (the other being the bad guy). Though one still wonders if the hilarious gruff  voice along with the suit is necessary.

Tom Hardy as Bane: Massive, dangerous and viciously scary. That probably sums up Hardy’s role in TDKR. He should not be compared to Heath Ledger, that is an unnecessary comparison. Give him his own space, I would suggest, because Hardy is awesome as hell himself. The polite manner of talking and his peculiar voice will find its own audience for sure. Would personally love it if Bane makes a come-back sometime soon.

Final Verdict: Most tickets for the movie have been booked till Wednesday, next week. Don’t wait. Go hunt for some over the weekend and watch ASAP.

(First published on rhythmoveejhatkas@wordpress.com)