Found in daugther Div's notebook - My bother's name is Dev. Hmm - children never lie. Big brother is a big bother mostly.
Dev has had another growth spurt and at 9 stands slightly higher than my shoulder. We were talking about how he was getter bigger and bigger. After a slight pause Div asked seriously "Is he going to burst?" and profferred an explanation "you know like the balloon gets bigger and bigger and bursts!"
Dev took the swimming survival test couple of weeks ago. About 20 kids set off to swim 8 laps in the olympic sized pool as part of the test. Dev started well - but began to lag even the tiniest of participants. Now I am a new age mom - I believe trying something is as important as the result and that it is important to give one's best to everything. So when he seemed to be struggling, with a firm resolve not to judge and only to encourage, I walked the lengths of the pool along with him, shouting out words of encouragement. I was heartened to note that my efforts were bearing fruit - I heard Dev say to himself "Don't Stop. Don't Stop".
I felt chuffed. What a wonderful mother I was. When Dev, an avid computer enthusiast, fulfils what, it seems to us, will be his destiny in something to do with IT - he will remark in his first major print interview, what a positive influence his mother had been on him. Thoughts such as these swirled in my head.
As he emerged out of the pool dead last, fifteen minutes after the kid before him, I went up to him. "Well done, Dev", I said, hoping he would make a mental note of how his mother had only sought to encourage not criticise; expecting I know not what, but some recognition for having walked the course with him. "So what's the plan for the day?" he asked. Just like that, no reference to the swimming. Coming from Dev, that question was shorthand for "when can I have my alloted hour of computer time." Hmm - a small disappointment. "We will talk about that later. But, did you like that Amma walked with you? Did it help you? I heard you say "dont stop, dont stop"? " I asked. Ok, my mom was not into new age stuff - results mattered to me!
He looked a little startled, waited a little and then said "Did you hear don't stop - I think I was saying Desk top."
Kids!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Slumdog Millionaire - Part One : The Movie
Totally agree with HPBlog : which game show would go for a commercial break after the question has been revealed? But then, Indian cinema goers regularly check in their sense of disbelief at the ticket counter - actually all moviegovers do that (remember Dumb and Dumber?), to be collected on their way out of the cinemas. So it would be querulous to dwell on that point. Apart from that and a couple of minor complaints (which I will get to) - I enjoyed Slumdog Millionaire. It was a delightful love story.
It is always a problem when one watches a movie that has won multiple awards - very few actually live up to the hype. Slumdog had the additional distinction of igniting a burning debate on the portrayal of the slums. On both counts, I felt the movie fell short. While the movie was well made and extremely engaging it was not earth shattering in anyway. It did not define a new cinematic experience, the story did not make you reach out to dark recesses of your psyche or evaluate your values, the acting was ordinary - music was good - but will I remember it 10yrs later - like I remember some other rahman songs? Cinematography wise it captured the momentum and dynamism of Mumbai well I thought, but then again I am no expert on that aspect of filmmaking. I can only judge it by how it moved me and I felt the 2 hours that I spent in the cinema, I thoroughly enjoyed.
Minor complaints related to the sketch of the Sikh family denying the 2 boys some rotis on the train while the American tourists showered them with dollars. Middle class India is not heartless. Perhaps they would not have condoned the kids stealing, but they would certainly have not begrudged hungry children 2 rotis. Also not all tourists are bleeding hearts - some tourists come to India with suspicion and skepticism in their waist pouches together with their passports, thanks to unflattering reports in the media of some aspects of life in India. My own in-laws travelled to India in 1996 with mineral water bottles from Malaysia as they had seen a programme on CNN saying that mineral water bottles in India may be tampered with.
What I liked best was the editing that kept the story moving at a great pace, while not losing any of the emotional dimensions of the story (please Hindi movies, no 4 minute songs on judai, after hero and heroine have been separated.)
So the verdict on the awards is that it was over-hyped, probably more an emotional response to a story - rather than a commendation of the many aspects of the art of filmmaking. I remember walking out after watching Omkara, an Indian adaptation of Othello, stunned, happy, sad; with a great sense of being involved in a story that I had known every twist and turn of, even before I stepped into the cinema hall. That to me is powerful storytelling. I did not feel that awe about Slumdog. I will remember, years later, that the movie was a multiple Oscar winner - but are there individual scenes etched in my mind - like there are scenes from Gandhi? Not really.
Finally, I wish Anil Kapoor had been less of a monkey on the red carpet and more gracious at the stage.
It is always a problem when one watches a movie that has won multiple awards - very few actually live up to the hype. Slumdog had the additional distinction of igniting a burning debate on the portrayal of the slums. On both counts, I felt the movie fell short. While the movie was well made and extremely engaging it was not earth shattering in anyway. It did not define a new cinematic experience, the story did not make you reach out to dark recesses of your psyche or evaluate your values, the acting was ordinary - music was good - but will I remember it 10yrs later - like I remember some other rahman songs? Cinematography wise it captured the momentum and dynamism of Mumbai well I thought, but then again I am no expert on that aspect of filmmaking. I can only judge it by how it moved me and I felt the 2 hours that I spent in the cinema, I thoroughly enjoyed.
Minor complaints related to the sketch of the Sikh family denying the 2 boys some rotis on the train while the American tourists showered them with dollars. Middle class India is not heartless. Perhaps they would not have condoned the kids stealing, but they would certainly have not begrudged hungry children 2 rotis. Also not all tourists are bleeding hearts - some tourists come to India with suspicion and skepticism in their waist pouches together with their passports, thanks to unflattering reports in the media of some aspects of life in India. My own in-laws travelled to India in 1996 with mineral water bottles from Malaysia as they had seen a programme on CNN saying that mineral water bottles in India may be tampered with.
What I liked best was the editing that kept the story moving at a great pace, while not losing any of the emotional dimensions of the story (please Hindi movies, no 4 minute songs on judai, after hero and heroine have been separated.)
So the verdict on the awards is that it was over-hyped, probably more an emotional response to a story - rather than a commendation of the many aspects of the art of filmmaking. I remember walking out after watching Omkara, an Indian adaptation of Othello, stunned, happy, sad; with a great sense of being involved in a story that I had known every twist and turn of, even before I stepped into the cinema hall. That to me is powerful storytelling. I did not feel that awe about Slumdog. I will remember, years later, that the movie was a multiple Oscar winner - but are there individual scenes etched in my mind - like there are scenes from Gandhi? Not really.
Finally, I wish Anil Kapoor had been less of a monkey on the red carpet and more gracious at the stage.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Thought Bubbles
I had a frenzied, but thoroughly invigorating weekend - to the extent that I felt I had accomplished a lot. The only negative point would be the awful movie that I perversely watched through to the end on Sunday night. Trust the Man boasted of a very talented cast : Julianne Moore, Maggie Gyllenhaal (I really like her, its so sad that she gets overshadowed by that beautiful brother of hers) Billy Crudup (an intense actor that I really liked in some movies that I really can't remember. I think I remember him primarily for making my "short guys that I find attractive" list. Yes, I am a heightist and will not apologise for it - so shoot me!) and finally David Duchovny (whose life imitates art, as David checks into a self help group for sex addiction in this movie before checking into rehab for the same in real life. Hmmm). The movie was engaging in very small slivers, primarily due to the cast. The plot was thin, it lacked the emotive depth of a drama or the sheer comic value of a rom-com to make up for the lack of story line. The ending was utterly, utterly cringeworthy. Makes you think that even the half decent rom-coms require considerable talent to pull off and also really appreciate the genius of those auteurs whose work one finds immensely enjoyable.
The full length windows in our living room are a good reflecting surface at night. My daughter D, was doing her puzzles as I watched the movie. Suddenly she stared at her reflection intently. This went on for a couple of minutes, she was focussed and seemed to be thinking hard, almost willing something to happen. When she caught me looking at her, very earnestly she asked, "Amma, why is that thing not coming?" - while drawing a thought bubble over her head.
Ah, the wonderment of a child. And why do we ever lose it?
The full length windows in our living room are a good reflecting surface at night. My daughter D, was doing her puzzles as I watched the movie. Suddenly she stared at her reflection intently. This went on for a couple of minutes, she was focussed and seemed to be thinking hard, almost willing something to happen. When she caught me looking at her, very earnestly she asked, "Amma, why is that thing not coming?" - while drawing a thought bubble over her head.
Ah, the wonderment of a child. And why do we ever lose it?
Friday, February 20, 2009
Midweek Oasis
I had a great night out on Wednesday. Thanks to Caustic Yoda and his friends from New York, as well as some old friends from Singapore. We had dinner at Lau Pa Sat and then had couple of drinks at Emerald Hill and Arab Street. Part of the fun was going back to Emerald Hill after nearly half a decade and discovering a very cozy nook in Arab Street - most of it however was the company.
J and D were New York residents who were on a 3-week, perhaps month long trip of Southeast Asia. I really liked both of them. They were B-school grads, lived and worked in NY - all of which ratcheted up my estimation of how they rated on the intelligent-suave-cool scale. Not that they were not any of the above, but they were both incredibly warm human beings above everything else - unassuming yet intriguing personalities, whose conversations weaved between present and past - their Cambodian experience with street children selling postcards was told with as much good humour being stared at while touring the Singapore National Museum; stories of this trip were peppered with references from past trips and updates about friends from New York. What I found remarkably reassuring was the way they shared their experiences - they did not make headline statements about Singapore or Cambodia or anywhere else, seeking to sound well travelled or worldly wise. They did not dissect, examine and make a thesis of any of their experiences. They were not boastful nor condescending yet ribbed each other good humouredly throughout the evening. I think much had to do with the lilting cadence of J's narration and the gentle smile with which D made most of his observations. It was also good to have 'met' a part of a good friend's life, of which I had only had very fleeting glimpses thus far.
It was nice to have spent a light evening not talking about the economic crisis or the imminent collapse of the banking system. Not arguing if investment bankers had had their comeuppance or whether capitalism was dead. It was my midweek oasis.
J and D were New York residents who were on a 3-week, perhaps month long trip of Southeast Asia. I really liked both of them. They were B-school grads, lived and worked in NY - all of which ratcheted up my estimation of how they rated on the intelligent-suave-cool scale. Not that they were not any of the above, but they were both incredibly warm human beings above everything else - unassuming yet intriguing personalities, whose conversations weaved between present and past - their Cambodian experience with street children selling postcards was told with as much good humour being stared at while touring the Singapore National Museum; stories of this trip were peppered with references from past trips and updates about friends from New York. What I found remarkably reassuring was the way they shared their experiences - they did not make headline statements about Singapore or Cambodia or anywhere else, seeking to sound well travelled or worldly wise. They did not dissect, examine and make a thesis of any of their experiences. They were not boastful nor condescending yet ribbed each other good humouredly throughout the evening. I think much had to do with the lilting cadence of J's narration and the gentle smile with which D made most of his observations. It was also good to have 'met' a part of a good friend's life, of which I had only had very fleeting glimpses thus far.
It was nice to have spent a light evening not talking about the economic crisis or the imminent collapse of the banking system. Not arguing if investment bankers had had their comeuppance or whether capitalism was dead. It was my midweek oasis.
Monday, February 16, 2009
BeLonging
I am on FaceBook. Funny how a social networking site which I only thought had appeal for teeny-boppers has become so popular with the 30-40 somethings who count as my friends, acquaintances, colleagues, past and current.
Recently however there has been a flurry of activities among my friends joining groups or becoming fans of groups. My best friend seems to be on a musical odyssey, leaving a colourful trail of musical genres and groups that I scarcely know of, as he frenetically adds his name to burgeoning fan-lists. Some have joined causes supporting rights of Indian women to celebrate Valentine's Day while others will attend a photo-essay supporting the rights of Nepali women to education. Groups are being formed to bring together old schoolmates from far flung cities together in cyberspace (one enterprising former classmate of mine got together about 18-20 members of our 50 strong Std X class after nearly 18yrs of no contact). Memories are being shared, anecdotes exchanged, embarrassing photographs uploaded and compared with current photos with families in tow.
Is it FaceBook/Internet and the avenue it provides for interaction on multiple planes and a grandiose scale or is it the economic crisis which has rocked our foundations, that is spurring this flight to attain a sense of belonging? Do we need to redefine ourselves not as bankers, consultants, journalists, teachers but as friends, activists, aficionados, intellectuals? Is it helping to turn the clock back a little, taking us to more exciting times where we dreamt of changing the world, stayed up all night discoursing ideas, sought to experience new sensations through music or written word or cinema? Or is it just that the crisis has left us with a lot of time on our hands?
I feel a sense of bewilderment amidst this activity though. I have chosen this time, not reach out wider or explore life from the perch of experience - but to embark on a new career which has me focused on activities at an infinitesimally micro level - learning, practising, thinking, applying -all within the realm of my profession. So, no I am not plunging into the depths of new adventures - neither through travel nor through music; neither through books nor through art. If I imagine it in my head, I walk back slowly retracing the steps of the past 12 years, slowly climbing into my cocoon - a chrysalis yet again. That the burst of colours when I emerge this time will be vibrant and enduring - that is what I will BeLonging (for).
Recently however there has been a flurry of activities among my friends joining groups or becoming fans of groups. My best friend seems to be on a musical odyssey, leaving a colourful trail of musical genres and groups that I scarcely know of, as he frenetically adds his name to burgeoning fan-lists. Some have joined causes supporting rights of Indian women to celebrate Valentine's Day while others will attend a photo-essay supporting the rights of Nepali women to education. Groups are being formed to bring together old schoolmates from far flung cities together in cyberspace (one enterprising former classmate of mine got together about 18-20 members of our 50 strong Std X class after nearly 18yrs of no contact). Memories are being shared, anecdotes exchanged, embarrassing photographs uploaded and compared with current photos with families in tow.
Is it FaceBook/Internet and the avenue it provides for interaction on multiple planes and a grandiose scale or is it the economic crisis which has rocked our foundations, that is spurring this flight to attain a sense of belonging? Do we need to redefine ourselves not as bankers, consultants, journalists, teachers but as friends, activists, aficionados, intellectuals? Is it helping to turn the clock back a little, taking us to more exciting times where we dreamt of changing the world, stayed up all night discoursing ideas, sought to experience new sensations through music or written word or cinema? Or is it just that the crisis has left us with a lot of time on our hands?
I feel a sense of bewilderment amidst this activity though. I have chosen this time, not reach out wider or explore life from the perch of experience - but to embark on a new career which has me focused on activities at an infinitesimally micro level - learning, practising, thinking, applying -all within the realm of my profession. So, no I am not plunging into the depths of new adventures - neither through travel nor through music; neither through books nor through art. If I imagine it in my head, I walk back slowly retracing the steps of the past 12 years, slowly climbing into my cocoon - a chrysalis yet again. That the burst of colours when I emerge this time will be vibrant and enduring - that is what I will BeLonging (for).
Robert Downey Jr and Heath Ledger
I watched a movie called Chances Are, when I was 16. That was the first movie I watched in Singapore - watching a movie without seeking permission from my parents, splurging $5 (times 9 to convert into Indian Rupees then) on this luxury, made this movie a momentous one for me. I think it was February, when love was in the air. Or maybe I am mistaken - but my enduring recollection of the movie is totally losing my heart to Robert Downey Jr. He of the chocolate eyes and somewhat kooky disposition.
Earlier this year, when the Oscars and the Globes and the SAGs waxed eloquent in their tributes to Heath Ledger - I could not help bristle a little at the outpouring of grief and the eulogies of a "life cut short cruelly". When Downey Jr was arrested (was he also jailed? cannot recall) for his drug use, he lost his much critically appreciated role in Ally Mcbeal (that a role in that series was critically acclaimed, says much about the actor!!). He was also if I recall, shunned by the film fraternity.
Yet, how was Heath Ledger any different? Maybe he did not have a chequered history with drugs, at least not one that was overtly publicised (post mortem there were revelations of drug use). Maybe playing Joker had splintered something within himself - and resulted in pushing the limits. Whatever. But fact of the matter is that he died of a drug overdose. Hundreds, if not thousands suffer the same fate around the world - nursing, also as each one would claim, some real or imaginary wounds to their soul. Heath Ledger is just one of these numbers, who died of the inability to control himself. While I sympathise with the family for the loss - it is no greater than the loss suffered by the thousands who lose their battle with drugs. There is no reason to glorify his death.
I applauded his performance as Joker. It was magnificent and disturbing. But, I was not one of the standing ovation his award received. I will reserve that for Robert Downey Jr - who has struggled with drug use, sought repeatedly to overcome it, seems to have returned from a career death to essay more enigmatic roles. Who will, I hope, give strength to the many to attempt to return from the edge; not to fall over the edge. Yes those chocolate brown eyes may have something to do with this bias. But I feel sometimes we tend to ignore the mundane, the gritty and patently un-sexy reality.
Earlier this year, when the Oscars and the Globes and the SAGs waxed eloquent in their tributes to Heath Ledger - I could not help bristle a little at the outpouring of grief and the eulogies of a "life cut short cruelly". When Downey Jr was arrested (was he also jailed? cannot recall) for his drug use, he lost his much critically appreciated role in Ally Mcbeal (that a role in that series was critically acclaimed, says much about the actor!!). He was also if I recall, shunned by the film fraternity.
Yet, how was Heath Ledger any different? Maybe he did not have a chequered history with drugs, at least not one that was overtly publicised (post mortem there were revelations of drug use). Maybe playing Joker had splintered something within himself - and resulted in pushing the limits. Whatever. But fact of the matter is that he died of a drug overdose. Hundreds, if not thousands suffer the same fate around the world - nursing, also as each one would claim, some real or imaginary wounds to their soul. Heath Ledger is just one of these numbers, who died of the inability to control himself. While I sympathise with the family for the loss - it is no greater than the loss suffered by the thousands who lose their battle with drugs. There is no reason to glorify his death.
I applauded his performance as Joker. It was magnificent and disturbing. But, I was not one of the standing ovation his award received. I will reserve that for Robert Downey Jr - who has struggled with drug use, sought repeatedly to overcome it, seems to have returned from a career death to essay more enigmatic roles. Who will, I hope, give strength to the many to attempt to return from the edge; not to fall over the edge. Yes those chocolate brown eyes may have something to do with this bias. But I feel sometimes we tend to ignore the mundane, the gritty and patently un-sexy reality.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Of Buttons and Dogs
There was a time that we would make it a point to catch all the Oscar nominated movies and then deliver our verdict on which ones were Oscar-worthy. These days it has been tough even keeping track of which movies have been nominated for the Oscars. Nevertheless, we caught Benjamin Button last week. I must say I was a little disappointed - this movie actually made Forrest Gump seem like a classic movie. I liked the premise of the movie, however, I found Brad Pitt's performance monotonous. Some have described it as being nuanced - personally I preferred the nuanced performance of his ass in Troy.
But back to the premise - in today's world obssessed with looks, we bemoan the appearance of laugh lines and wrinkles- there is a false pursuit of eternal youthfulness. We sometimes wish we had the wisdom in youth to make certain decisions, or the youth to give shape and form to the epiphanies that age provides us. But what this story tells us that no matter where the beginning is at age 70 or age 0, life exorably moves towards the grave and what is vital is that we make the most of our time - as it is given to us. There was one part where the eponymous Button exhorts his daugther to have the courage to try to make something of her life if she had let it slip by her upto that point. For me that was the only point that had any meaning. Otherwise, the movie did very little for me.
I am looking forward to watching Slumdog Millionaire, will try and catch it next weekend when L is back. I am however intrigued by the rather contradictory reactions emanating from India - on the one hand embracing it and revelling in the awards it has received as if a film about India somehow automatically becomes Indian (yes the actors were Indian, but the film was conceptualised, produced and directed by Brits, so its a British film about India) and on the other hand criticising it for portraying India in a negative light. On the latter I have to reserve my comments as I have not watched the movie yet - except to say that I wonder if the people who are upset by this portrayal are the very people who lap up the Aditya Chopras and the Karan Johars portraying NRIs and goras as people devoid of values, uncouth, shamelessly pursuing money, unfilial etc - because really that would be a very accurate portrayal of such un-Indian people and they would really deserve it, no?!!! Well more on it when I have watched the film. But I caught the soundtrack - and the music is rivetting. I found the collaboration with MIA very interesting.
But back to the premise - in today's world obssessed with looks, we bemoan the appearance of laugh lines and wrinkles- there is a false pursuit of eternal youthfulness. We sometimes wish we had the wisdom in youth to make certain decisions, or the youth to give shape and form to the epiphanies that age provides us. But what this story tells us that no matter where the beginning is at age 70 or age 0, life exorably moves towards the grave and what is vital is that we make the most of our time - as it is given to us. There was one part where the eponymous Button exhorts his daugther to have the courage to try to make something of her life if she had let it slip by her upto that point. For me that was the only point that had any meaning. Otherwise, the movie did very little for me.
I am looking forward to watching Slumdog Millionaire, will try and catch it next weekend when L is back. I am however intrigued by the rather contradictory reactions emanating from India - on the one hand embracing it and revelling in the awards it has received as if a film about India somehow automatically becomes Indian (yes the actors were Indian, but the film was conceptualised, produced and directed by Brits, so its a British film about India) and on the other hand criticising it for portraying India in a negative light. On the latter I have to reserve my comments as I have not watched the movie yet - except to say that I wonder if the people who are upset by this portrayal are the very people who lap up the Aditya Chopras and the Karan Johars portraying NRIs and goras as people devoid of values, uncouth, shamelessly pursuing money, unfilial etc - because really that would be a very accurate portrayal of such un-Indian people and they would really deserve it, no?!!! Well more on it when I have watched the film. But I caught the soundtrack - and the music is rivetting. I found the collaboration with MIA very interesting.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)