Oru Vadakkan Selfie - feels funny to call Tamil Nadu folk as northerners, but a beautiful portrayal of Tamil Nadu in general and Chennai in particular - strangely holistic, while the storyline remains strong.

An excellent entertainer, no words to describe.

Chennai responds: a loud response of an underrated city

The past few weeks - well except for the overreaction over Aamir Khan, have all been about the excellent response of Chennai's citizens to the flood. Unfortunately I was unable to witness it, but in addition to talks with family and friends, the talk on social media was extensive. Perhaps a little too extensive. Starry-eyed, in fact.

It would be unfair to say that it all started with photos of people helping each other "irrespective of religion" (among other distinctions) swarming the internet - no, this was just the cherry on top of a cake that began baking over a year back.

I don't understand why it had to wait until 2014, loads of people have moved out of Chennai much before, and Chennai hate wasn't new either. But yeah, 2014 has been much of an awakening for most parts of India - with images taking over text, particularly on Facebook (after check-ins became obsolete), and memes originating, news started creeping into people's feed* in addition to pointless posts by people on sites like Storypick. While it is indeed pathetic to see a literate world hesitant to read text until put on an image, it comes as a relief to see that there is some way to penetrate the seemingly non permeable brains of today's generation.

Chennai has received a lot of undeserving criticism from people from the other parts of India, particularly the North - yes, I too have been, and sometimes still am an unwilling audience to some of it, defending my city in vain to people who choose to be loudspeakers and not lend a listening ear. Points raised revolve around the city's weather and the fact that people do not speak Hindi.

So, in and around 2013-14, several Facebook pages such as Chennai Memes and My Chennai started posting beautiful pictures of, and posts about the city which were received with open arms by Tamilians all over India - and the world, and hence rose to popularity. Oh, and there have been quite a few songs on Chennai too - notable ones being The Madras Song and Chancey Illa.

So, while some (especially those living outside Tamil Nadu) were able to relate to this expression of strong love for their city, others stopped to notice the beauty of this cosmopolitan, and developed an attachment for it. 

My title is slightly misleading - Chennai is by no means underrated in South India, it is only when it comes to India as a whole that this happens. Chennai isn't merely overshadowed by the North - there is plenty of room for Chennai - and perhaps ten (or more) other cities to be recognized at least countrywide. It is a choice of the people - the people who are able to focus their eyes on, and identify completely with one city, not just because it is India's commercial capital, but because it houses Bollywood - the one thing that connects Hindi speakers. Funnily enough, though, the ones (outside Maharashtra) who pay heed to this blind themselves to the fact that it is (supposedly) a Marathi speaking city**. While Bollywood gladly lets Urdu, Punjabi and even the Mumbai slang (not to mention English) creep into its Hindi, it has been extremely careful in not letting Marathi seep into it - a price, I'd say, Mumbai has paid in being the Capital of India, rather than that of Maharashtra.

But Chennai refuses to pay such a price - yes, the Anti-Hindi movement, a mere political tool decades ago has left some dislike in the minds of the previous generation, but our generation is different - we're interested in learning Hindi - and a good number of us can speak it pretty well. Oh and we watch Bollywood films too. But we aren't a people who will give up on our mother tongue - we will never exchange our language for anything. While in most other parts of India, people attach themselves to their religion, caste, an interest group or something else, our first priority is language (and then the others follow of course). But with all that, we are a great city - an awesome city that quite a few don't see to look up to. I have lived at Bangalore and Mumbai, and have visited Delhi, and I can definitely say that Chennai is no less. While there are things we need to learn from these cities, there are things these cities an learn from us, too.

And so we've been crying out for attention for a while. In doing so, many of us looked at ourselves - a very few fell in love for the first time, but most of us realized how deeply we were in love. And then we had the floods. We didn't have to be asked. We knew what had to be done, and that we had to. And we did it. We didn't overdo anything. The only marginally naive part was photos and posts of inter-religious mingling - something that is so common not merely at Chennai, but at most parts of the country. We were being ourselves, our intentions were pure, the photos were genuine, and so were first hand reports. The memes, in particular, were, you know, silly and romantic***. And now you know why we did that.

And has Chennai lost her grandeur, has she stooped down in expressing her desire for recognition - and that too, rather explicitly? Not in the least. We deserve respect and recognition - something that must've been given to us on a golden platter - and we are asking our country for it and there is nothing puerile about that.

* Some of it false news or twisted statements no doubt, but nevertheless, Facebook still is one of the best ways to spread awareness

** A trait I have observed with Bangalore residents too - desperate attempts to have Kannada boards on buses seem futile attempts. Oh, and in case you've ever travelled by bus in Mumbai you'd note that they too have only Marathi written all over them.

*** In Tamil, we have a term, namely, "Aarvakolaru" to describe this over-the-edge-zeal

Another thought (A comment of mine on Quora):

It is odd is that people keep giving examples of coexistence of people of different religions.. They need to cease to be examples, they should be the way of life... The fact is that such is the way of life in our country - coexistence is how we live our lives - we don't merely respect another religion, we go to the extent of accepting it. Do you think of your friend's religion when you share a plate of pav bhaji with him/her? Or when you have a smoke with them?

A religion-centric country like Afghanistan or Pakistan should be proud of such examples - they should learn from us, be we can't keep posting pictures of religious coexistence as if it is a recent development.. With that said, I'd say it isn't time for people to grow up, we are already old enough and wise - it is time for the social media to grow up, and naive news propagandists to get a life..

Swades - a walk down memory lane

It has been 11 years since this film - arguably the best films, but unarguably on of the best films in Indian cinema was released - 17th December, 2004 - incidentally the date of the first powered flight in human history at Kitty Hawk. Swades has touched the heart of every Indian who has watched it, and will continue to do so, I am sure..

I decided to write this article over 8 months ago, when I was at Sadashivanagar, Bangalore, watching this film for the umpteenth time - and I decided that today would be the day of publishing it too.

Well, I only thought that I would write about Swades - didn't think much about the content - and I -feel quite blank after writing an answer to a Quora question around a week back (link) - yeah I guess that is something I regret, for I am out of content..

What do I say about Swades? Each watch of the film is a journey.

As Mohan starts his caravan, his heart lighter compared to what it had been for months, down the road towards Charanpur, we buckle our seatbelts too, embarking upon a journey with the same expectations as him, irrespective of how many times we've seen the film. Our burdens all set aside, we become one with the film - a film that ensures that Indians from several parts - if not all, can relate to it. It is set in Delhi and is Hindi, which is fine by those from North and Central India. And people of the South can relate with Kaveriamma - after all, she is called "amma", and her dressing, accent and the way she teaches that village lady to bathe her child is strangely familiar - yeah I've seen my grandmother doing that to my cousins.

The gross journey seen metaphorically indicates an inward journey that we all take, to discover our own selves...

While the film is definitely timeless, it has captured some characteristic aspects of the 90's and the first couple of years of the 21st century. And some of these have completely been wiped off.

Each watch of the film adds a new perspective - and it keeps adding up, believe it or not. The first watch makes one pity Mohan slightly at having become a scapegoat. One watches in awe, Gayatri Joshi's remarkable acting skills and her effortless chemistry with Khan - they way in which her eyes do the acting. During my most recent watch (yesterday, in fact), I saw Kaveriamma's authority - authoritativeness (over Gita at least), I'd call it, to give the full import. Gita doesn't raise a question when she noticed that Kaveriamma was listening in on her conversation with Mohan - while that could've been to avoid letting Mohan know, she doesn't even dare to give a disapproving look. When Mohan returns from Kodi, depressed at seeing Haridas's plight, Kaveriamma asks Gita to go, taking Nandan, and this is followed obediently at once.

<editing in progress>

India Today: From a Pessimist's Eye

The India I see is one that has turned a blind eye to serious problems. On one side, our people, particularly the youth are ready to plunge into action instead of being passive spectators. However, they strike me as immature, gullible people who are certainly not ready enough to discern what is right.

With trivial issues surfacing, one begins to wonder as to what happened to the ones that mattered until yesterday. Issues such as parents being sent to age old homes,  health, relationships, education and much more, seem to have been clouded by pointless talk. Seriously, how are today's middle aged folk treating their parents in India?

Important discussions revolve around alcohol, drugs, pretentious news, false publicity of wannabe revolutionaries whose credibility is unnecessarily discussed, lavish expenditure, North-South-Northeast inclusion/exclusion, sexual orientations, unrealistic cinema, overuse of social media, overrated "TV" series, selfies, attention seeking and of course, the ever intriguing and over-hyped sex. The country - and the world at large, appears to steadily march towards its own rotting. Our immaturity is clearly reflected in the nature of the leaders we choose. The fact that we are even considering listening to people like Kanhaiya pains me deeply.

There was a time when the world had thinkers, seers who could foresee how things would be in the future - the internet seems to have now clouded our eyes, and the only visions we seem to have of the future are the ones shown to us in films. Twisted stories shown in the films and drama we watch have subtly affected our minds, clouding our judgement, and, unless I am much mistaken, this has affected our character in a way, patching into our DNA an element of wickedness. We have certainly lost the straightforwardness that seems to have prevailed in the previous generations, losing our innocence and developing cunningness at a very tender age. This is mirrored by the visible growth of health problems which are certainly induced by the state of our mind in addition to the state of our environment.

Any discussion on the current generation would touch upon the clichéd "technological advances" - a topic where this generation doesn't seem to score much. While research is more common now than ever, it seems to have become a rush to get a Doctorate or to compete with a rival organisation rather than for the sake of national progress, let alone global. National leaders - and nations as such, seem to focus a lot on amassing wealth and armaments while not invading other countries, and while progress is seen in small pockets, overall progress has come to a standstill.

The internet has pampered us, drilling engineered ideas into our heads. Marketing has reached a peak, convincing people that they need to stay "connected" to the internet at all times - this is something I find quite unnecessary. In spite of years of the mobile phone's presence in our lives, it still feels unnecessary - at least at times, if not always. Such logical thoughts may be short lived - thinking out of the box is, as I had once remarked to a friend a couple of years back, limited to thinking within a bigger box. All of what we feel can be done, seems to have already been done - this generation looks like a bunch of redundant lives that simply exist, draining the world of its resources for no useful reason at all.

I really do hope I'm wrong.

An outburst

A(an incomplete) response to Anish Kapoor's article

Sherlock Holmes has set a bad example for Britain. Or perhaps I'll take that sentence back, because I'm a die hard fan of Conan Doyle's world famous sleuth. But I will not take back my accusation that the British continues to "make it their business to know things". Knowing things is fine, but this country crossed that line centuries ago. I thought they had learnt their lesson on limits, but they clearly haven't, and poking their nose into others' business continues to earn them the wrath of people like me. Well, I thought I'd start with them making a big scene with India's daughter, but I guess that topic has run its course. But then again, it's only a matter of time before they come up with some other such case of interference, and they are shown their place again. I'd just like to state that if it hadn't been for this irritating attitude, England could have been at the top of the world instead of what I'd call a pseudo-country that their nose poking created.

This isn't a criticism of the article as such, nor even an analysis. I wish to merely point out the tone at with which it has begun.

So, Mr. Kapoor, if you run out of nice lines to start your article with, you can always ask me - you seem to have been pretty off-guard while starting your article - seems ironical when we look at the name of the journal that published it. Being a Hindubandhu (ref Brahmabandhu) (or perhaps not) I'm sure you realize that you have compared a man to a terrorist group in your title, and, right in the first line of your article, to one of the most revered deities in the world, needless to say, hurting the sentiments of people like me, and depriving your otherwise well written article of the audience it otherwise deserves.

Criticizing any elected leader is perfectly acceptable - we're both democracies, and Mr. Modi is certainly answerable to all of us, but The Guardian publishing this particular article seems to have a slightly more twisted agenda than that.

I realize that this could have been added as a comment on Mr. Kapoor's post, or rather, as a personal message, but I'm sure that to a sculptor who proudly flaunts a queen's private parts, this doesn't even qualify as publicity.

I do realize that this post is a messy, incoherent jibber-jabber, but I'm going to let it be, for it is an emotional outburst.

Porn in the 90's

After several failed attempts to do his homework, young Rakesh finally gave up, yielding to the overwhelming cringing of his heart.. Alone time at home was certainly a rareity..

He turned on the cathode ray tube screen which blinked once before it sprang to life, the tiny red dot of light turning green. A shiver of excitement ran through his spine as he fondled with the little toy in his hand as the two scantily clad people on screen took of their tops, with ferocious expressions on their faces. Their expressions seemed to be merely the tip of the iceberg of the way in which their were about to treat each other. Violent would be an understatement to describe the manner in which they would be handling each other's bodies - ah, the sounds in the background egged them on to go further. Rakesh started at the heavily built man in awe as the camera zoomed towards him - a magnificent body so perfectly maintained, his limbs stiff, tender and elastic at the same time - ones that could endure an unimaginable amount of -.. he stopped abruptly, feeling guilty at having admired this man instead of the person to his left. Before his eyes shifted, he heard his phone bell ring.

Rakesh picked the receiver of the phone beside the screen and left it aside - he didn't want to be disturbed by anyone at this time - certainly not by those pretentiously saintly friends who discouraged him from watching this stuff, for they deemed it as inappropriate, even obscene. Hesitantly, he walked a few steps back and, with some reached the top latch of the door and latched it, while trying hard to not miss a single scene on the screen. He certainly didn't want his parents seeing him doing this - he had been told against it - and while he knew neither would be back before 5:00pm, he had to be sure. He lowered the volume as a beep sound hushed a loud swear word. Rakesh smiled at the sheer pointlessness of the beep, for nearly every viewer of the show was more than familiar with each curse uttered.

The crowd jeered as one man pounced upon the other, lifting him high above his head and performing a "grand slam", as it was called, throwing him down on the ring floor. The latter bounced on the ring floor which seemed like a weak trampoline, while the former catapulted himself onto his body, which, magically seemed to have enormous resilience in terms of bleeding and even sweating - something that sounds far fetched even to cartoons.

With its larger than life (literally) people, with enviable(?) bodies that people would (wouldn't, perhaps?) dream of having, its wide popularity among the young generation, the extravagant melodrama, the large money involved (more a corollary than an independent factor), the obscure connection with films (everyone knows The Rock) and crazy peripherals, WWE (or the earstwhile WWF) was certainly qualified to be honoured with the status in the  90's - the status that porn enjoys today..

Yes, I know that pornography existed in media back then as it has always done, and that the title here is misleading, but I shall stick to it, arguing that the term 'porn' has now been extended to anything that is genuinely attractive (a pleasant surprise to see an obscene word de-obscenized in this fast obscenizing world) that cannot be ignored by someone with at least a little attraction to the topic concerned, I see no reason why I shouldn't go back on the timeline and place the word to something people were crazy about..

This, according to me, was porn in the 90's.. It was, at least, for someone born in the 90's

One step

"What difference can one step make?", I wondered.. A few meagre inches1 perhaps?

But a little observation taught me that a step ahead or behind2 decides whether you are in the train or out of it - a fact that can have the most drastic implications.. The difference between one who has a job and one who doesn't, one who can pay for the ticket and the one who can't, between one who reaches college on time and the one who can't... Life is seldom a nice linear function.. Function definitions in and of life always have discontinuities and are seldom differentiable, with long, and in most cases, several flower brackets in them, not to mention the crazy curves that the equations define..

I guess it's all these flowers and designs that make life so beautiful...

1. Or rather, a small fraction of a metre. I love the SI system and am no American

2. Thank you shock nomenclature

This one's foot you Manipal, my small-steps friend