Avatar- Movie Review

It's been a long, forlorn 12 years since James Cameron last took his place in a director's seat. And 12 years ago, what he made made turned out to be the highest grossing motion picture of all time, in the form of the soap romantic tale of Titanic. When you foray into Avatar, which ends Cameron's long hiatus from direction, except nothing more that what you have been accustomed with while watching Titanic. You will be treated to watching a film where the storyline is something you are pretty familiar with, and Cameron will never try to surprise you with 'twist in tales' or anything such. You will know all along what's coming next, what's going to happen next. Why, if you are an ardent film-goer, like I am, you might even be able to tell how this movie is going to end within five minutes into its opening. It's cliched, its predictable. But Cameron never tried to make the film to seem to be something more than what it is. Clearly his ambitions lay in bringing out the eloquent world of Pandora into reality, to bring a humane connection between the audiences with the cultures and attitude of the native Na'vi people, and in creating an imaginary world, where the connection between the natural earth and its inhabitants is much more deep than just feeding and hosting.

And in that aspect, Avatar suceeds. Bringing forth ground-breaking array of technical and graphic capture achievements, Avatar is strung by stunning visuals, that will probably stick right into your pupils if you had went for a 3D version. Images that exude elegance and light, and in order to bring out the beauty of nature, Cameron has paid intrinsic attention to visual details, a blazing assortment of colors, timely sprinkles, all in all, it makes you feel there is a Pandora somewhere out there.

The story is pretty simple. An ex-Marin called Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) is called upon to a human base in an outer planet called Pandora which is inhabited by a native Na'vi tribe. He takes part in a large corporation's bid to coax the natives out of thair villages into order to posses large amounts of ubotranium minerals that are reserved beneath their village trees. It involves taking place in an 'avatar', a simulated fake body of a Na'vi, so that he could enter the tribal areas and demonstrate the friendly intentions of humans. Soon, the Avatar becomes who Jake Sully aspires to be and he earns acceptance among the tribe and fights for their rights against the greed of the corporation.

The villains are typically greedy, ignorant and cartoonishly evil, but the film on a larger scope has the feel of a saga about it, something that would appeal highly to the mass crowd seeking entertainment. Parts of the film's length seems stretched beyond necessity, especially the battle scenes around the film's climax.

Sam Worthington does a commendable job in the lead role, and even though half of the time he is lending the voice for his avatar, he manages to bring about the connection of the character transformation very well indeed. Zoe Saldana and Sigourney Weaver both are adequate in their roles as well.

The film is technically ambitious and delivers on the entertainment front with a decent script to go with a wafer thin storyline, though intellects shouldn't expect much substance from the film. If you have enjoyed Titanic, you'd probably nod for this. A good film for a light-hearted festive season.

Rating:***/5

The story of a man with a dream

A warrior woke up one day with new seeds of dreams protruding from his eyes. He sensed that it is his duty as a warrior to conquer uncharted territories, his duty to be on the vast terrains of the world, exploring, and making a change.

As that warrior sling his sword, as the sun greeted his new endeavor, he knew that this is the only way he would live, or die. By pursuing his dream. His kingdom, would, at large, wish him not to go. Not to take the risk to travel to faraway kingdoms. If he had stayed, they would have summoned him for a battle many years from now, in a path that they have carefully engineered for him, a path on which his soldiers and generals will take to the battlefield first- him next. But the warrior wants to be the first to charge, he wants to lead, he wanted to do it his way. For six years he traveled in great lengths, and slowly, changes begun to appear.

His kingdom no-more discourages his journeys- they approve of it. The warrior found friends along the journey who would proclaim great support to his quest. Once a lost quest has now become a quest that is very much real, achievable.

And one fine day, the warrior finally sees the mountain that he wants to conquer, the mountain on which he wants to build his own kingdom- he continued walking on the path never taken before, up until he reached the foot of the mountains- he has to start climbing. The time traveling on that steep roads flanked with bright colors on the left and the sea to the right is up, now it is time for another arduous task- climb up the mountain. And at the foot of it- demons who are ready to force him to give up- demons who want that mountain never to be conquered, never to be charted on.

He looks at the legion of demons and realizes they are much tougher opponents than he had expected, he takes out his sword. For a brief second, he looks behind him, and he realizes, how much faith had his friends and some individuals from his kingdom had shown for him, and he had to do this, using their faith in him as a spur. He fought the demons, and with each blow he took, scampering him onto the ground, the warrior pushed himself back up and continued to battle. The warrior has been battling it out for more than a week, at the foot, trying to clear off the demons and find the platform on which he could finally start climbing. But as the battle prolongs, the weaker he begins to feel.

This time, another blow was struck and with a loud thud, he fell on the ground much worse than ever before. He is bleeding badly. And then he realized, despite all the faith that spurred him on, he is after all made of flesh and blood, having to battle it out all by himself here doesn't seem a possible task anymore. He wishes he had a soldier, or a fellow warrior, or a general, someone who would charge the moment the warrior in unable to pick himself up quickly enough from a blow. As much as he pushes himself up time and again, he feels his hands have broken this time around, he couldn't push himself up. He needs a hand to help him up. His sword alone won't do the job, his conviction alone won't do the job. The warrior continues to battle, because that is the only way he knows he could and would live.

But today, ask the dusk sets upon the sea, watching silently this battle at the foot of the mountains, the warrior knows no-one out there listens to his groans, no-one could see that he is bleeding, no-one would offer a hand. He will continue, because that's the only thing he knows how to do.

But as he watches the stains on his sword, blackened clusters of blood, he becomes convinced he would end up dying way before he reaches the top of this very mountain he wants to conquer. Despite clinging on that faith- faith that his destiny is here, the warrior is on the brink of losing hope. The pain pierces through him once more, a faint light flickers across the distance in this dark land. Faint lights aren't enough anymore, he couldn't find the strength to walk to that light.

Wouldn't someone, someone who would finally aid him in his quest, bring the light towards him? Is he not entitled to have his soldiers, ever? Is this a quest of a lone warrior? Will he die here alone, oblivious to the rest of the world, beaten and destroyed with his spirits?

The Cybergypsies- Bear, (((rrrree)))(llie**&^ Good

Best book I have read in my life? Maybe. That was what I was telling myself some 2 weeks ago. Now, yes. It is the best. Indra Sinha's Cybergypsies is a stunning tour de force, entertainment in the form of book reading at the highest quality.

What doesn't the book have? Imagination? Yes. Suspense? Yes. Reality? Yes. Humor? A big fat yes. Sattire? Thoroughly. Emotion? Greatly. Intellect? Yes. Enlightenment? Yes again.

Everything one should and would ask from a book is in this 392 page of absolute great craftmanship.

Cybergypsy is the account of Bear (Sinha himself), a copywriter at an advertising firm who details his travels on the electronic frontier and also in his 'real' life, often hovering on a guilt of losing his real life as he gets addicted to the Vortex of imaginations, and trying to recuperate and win back the Eve- the woman of his life, the woman he married.

In between this two ends, Bear travels to deep aeons of humanity, through his work with Amnesty he is exposed to the biggest conflicts that took place in the world at the time of writing- i.e. Saddam Hussein's crude mass murder on thousands of Kurds in Kurdistan, The Chinese prison guards' electric raging brutality on Tibetan freedom pledges, and also a corporate company's crude blindfold after a gas explosion in its factory wiped out almost an entire skirt of Bhopal in 1984. Harsh realities yes, but Indra mixes these harsh realities with a pint of imagination, narrating the story to us a-la a Shades or a Vortex game. The book is a celebration of the reality in which we live in, telling that of a man who transfixed himself to a fictional world and by the end of the world, realized that the gargantuan reality, no matter how harsh or unnerving, is where he wants to be. How subtly he narrates he wants to be Eve more than a Luna he never knew, and how he sees a soil homing so many little insect lives to be more of a miracle rather than Cyri, the beautiful horse in the Vortex.

Above all, the book subtly reads to us that instead of choosing 'not to know' realities which are harsh and live in our own imagination, we could stand up and make a difference, and be counted for if we had the guts to be honest to ourselves and accept the truths around us.

Sinha is a phenomenal writer, one who relates deep humanity with his narration, a touch of subsequently stunning humor, and also is, on a personal level, an amazing person because he has in fact travelled to such contrasting ends in his travels. From writing an ad for a nuclear plant, writing a Kama Sutra book and narrating a voice over for a video adaptation of the book, talking to pornographers, trying to hack and sabotage into the computer of a person believed to be nude-picturing underage girls, sitting beside a man who writes an indefatigable, utterly logic defying letter to Saddam Hussein pledging him to flee Kuwait,receiving a letter containing torture items that were personal belongings of the Dalai Lama, and narrating ad voice over with actor John Hurt. He has done it all. And he tells it all to us in this brilliant book.

We get a glimpse of how the pre-internet generation were already addicted to the online bug, how viruses were already a fashionable trend back then, and above all we see how much the Internet becomes a vortex that sucks people in and caters as a permanent hom for many people, leaving them both destructed and delusional, and at the same time, how it acts as a channel of reality, an expression of free speech, a flow for information that were blocked by governments and also companies.

Read this book if you could. In one word, this is 'Important'.

THIS IS IT- REVIEW

If you are a Michael Jackson fan, then you’d be hard done to miss this wonderful piece of musical documentary.

If you are not, then Wikipedia him up, get to know him further, and go to theatre and discover the man you never knew. Yes, none of us knew him. Michael might have spent the eon of his adult life scrutinized in the public eye and by the unforgiving media which gave him a torrid time, but ever wanted to know how this reserved, silent looking enigma behaved, talked, walked, smiled behind all the images that the media is? Here is your answer- that is if you are observant enough to notice the small things that are shown in the film, things that define and paint the ‘real’ MJ for you.

First of all, talking on a technical point of view, Kenny Ortega should be given all the credit for making this film. Many predicted this will be just a PR stunt in order to recoup all the lost money when ‘This is It’ did not materialize after MJ’s demise. Instead, this documentary showed MJ and his passion, and also showed how much hard work it involves in making a concert of this magnitude. Everyone who conceived the idea of executing ‘This is It’, especially Michael and Kenny should take the cake for being such wonderful visionaries. By the time you walk out of the theatre, you will think it’s a waste. Not that the movie is a waste, but that the fact that ‘This is It’ was never executed is a waste- Never before has a concert of this magnitude been attempted to, and MJ, even at 50, had all the energy to have made it a stunning spectacle. ‘Smooth Criminal’ was re-shot in a 60s style, ‘Thriller’ was shot with a 3D effect, and also the ‘Earth Song’ had a new brilliant music video accompanying what already was a wonderful song. 10 dancers are transformed into a 1000 using CGI to be used as a background for ‘You Don’t Care About Us’. All these things are of such untried magnitude, we haven’t seen something like this on the stage before, and it is a pity we will not see it now. At least, the most we could do is watch this documentary.

Secondly, this film shows you an assortment of the very best. Check out MJ’s new lead guitarist, she could easily rival the legendary Slash, she was that talented (her name doesn’t stick with me yet), and the fact that she was a young woman on a guitar, and also pretty, makes her and her talent a feast to watch. The dancers are all from the top shelf, they are not only from US, from are spread from all over the world- from Holland to Australia. Only the very best are chosen for this project- from all involved areas, even for dance masters who even come from Russia. And of course you have MJ. If any of you thought he had lost it after not having performed at such an arena for almost a decade, you are definitely wrong. MJ sounds pretty much the same, and amazingly when he is on his attires, the ‘Prince’ looks genuinely like the ‘Prince’, his half-a-century age never showed.

To round it all, there is the somewhat personal side of MJ. Notice him having a lollipop in his mouth while watching dancers rehearse for a Thriller 3D video. Watch him give a wide smile full of satisfaction when Kenny says, ‘Lights out, hold for applause’ after rehearsing a song. I read once that the stage was MJ’s sanctuary, it definitely shows here. Such a perfectionist he is, he even knows accurately about the beats and the tempos of his own song that he can instruct his musical director. He takes enormous responsibility on the stage, he walks up and says ‘wait for my cue’; though he would be at the middle of the stage singing, already having his hands full, he still raises the cue for a new beat, or for the entrance of dancers, all the miniscule things were channeled through him. In an era where pop starts are pampered and look for a rest as soon as possible, MJ is like a God on stage, he keeps trying, he keeps going. ‘Let’s do it one more time, that is why we have rehearsals’- you hear him say that line thrice in the film, and that line summarizes his dedication to his cause. MJ only gave probably less than half of this effort (he says after singing ‘Can’t Stop Loving You’ that he shouldn’t sing because he should be saving his throat for the concert) yet it already looks a good enough effort in the rehearsals, imagine what he might have gave to the audiences if he had been at the concert. Apart from that, he always uses phrases such as ‘God bless you’ when anyone, anyone at all does a good job during the rehearsals, and every time he wants to change or disagrees with something, he would say ‘do it for love, L.O.V.E’. For some, it may have been cheesy that such lines are uttered during a stressful rehearsal, but be a skeptic if you want to be, but that is who MJ was. Notice him hugging everyone from the crew after a session. Watch him give a meaningful speech to his team when they wrapped up the rehearsals.

‘This is It’ is easily one of the best documentaries on rock music ever made, and the quotient of it was elevated even more by the fact that MJ did not manage to realize the one more dream he had, the one more vision that he had. However, This is It saves it from being a waste- cameraman who captured those magical moments, so that the people would know what actually went on in This is It.

And as the film rightly says- it’s a film for the fans. Cherish it. With love. L.O.V.E.

The Observer- Episode 8- Campus Tapestry

It started one day in a narrow corridor, I walked up clumsily, already missing the orientation, bespectacled at the size of a small orange class located in middle of many other orange classes.

Orange. A color untried. A display of difference. A blatant shout-out saying aloud to the rest of Malaysia- 'we are a stand-out'- all done from a distance, in a small shadowy, lonesome street in the middle of what was supposed to be the future city of Malaysia- Cyberjaya.

Before we turn back to actually take notice, three years and seven months pass, and you look at each other and realize that you need to ask that question- when are we going to see all of this again? Except for that one day in December when we might all stand in hordes, smartly-dressed- but the most we will be able to do is nod and smile in approval- flanked at one side by our parents of relatives- the other mentally relishing the end and a new journey to begin. But how many of us will take that long glazing glare, and look beyond this humane flaws, this criticisms, this less-than-perfections, this hype, and actually reflect what has happened in the past four years?

They got nothing to do with the purple, yellow, orange corridors. They have nothing to do with a fancily named Makan 'Lah', nothing to do with a sneering library baggage room caretaker, nothing to do with pregnant lecturers punching a doorknob in frustration, nothing to do with a class-whole attempt to remove a wisdom-plucked lecturer from teaching us consumerism, nothing to do with a herd-like rush to the labs and faculties as deadlines draw to a close. Nothing.

All they have to do is with us- the people. We made those 4 years. And beyond all these, I see stories that are worth carrying in our memories. Life often passes by being mundane and unspectacular, but little do we realize that all we need is the ability to spot an unique story.

When I came here, I was a youngster chasing a dream, who thought the dream was more important than anything else, that obsession is a good thing. Today, that obsession has transferred to passion. And unlike when I had come, everything else does matter- life's greatest lesson- nothing is trivial. Everything matters. Treat every matter with due respect and consideration.

Remember the young man who fought against the odds to be here- most of us neglect to know too much about him because it would make us feel guilty at our inability to cope with hardships as well as he has done. As well as he has fought against pain. When I came, I used to think my severe gastric was a pain off the top shelf. It is then that I realized so often we people try to potray ourselves on a standout by just inducing self-pity. Pain is an escapism to short-handedness. Since I met this man, I had stopped making pain a barrier for myself. You don't need to fight pysichal pain, but you need to accept it, and adapt it. When you do so, it becomes so much a part of you that you do not recognize that pain as a pain anymore. To date, it has been two full years since I last had a truly recognizable gastric attack. Now and then it threatened, but I never fed myself to entertain that notion. And would I have made this progress if I hadn't come here and met this person? No.

Many have viewed me over the course of these past four years as someone passive, quiet, reserved. I had a majority of my youth being just how I describe myself- an observer. Though detached to the normal eyes, I remain very much part of my surroundings, observing people, their attitudes, and always looking for stories. And when I told any small story I had found to my friends, they used to say they'd never find such stories in their campuses. My campus is unique- they'd say.

We all might stand up and yell a loud, deafening no to them, saying that our campus is just an overhyped rubbish- that the () sucks, that this () is ruined, so on and so on. But all those things don't matter. We matter. The stories came and were viewed because of who we all were and are. True again, we never had the environment of spending that much of time together as it would have been in any other campus- another thing we could rue about.

But at the end of the day, we can't reverse four years, and neither it is justified to have regrets as we collect our black caps and robes next month and make a beeline for escapism.

I do not know whether the place we had studied in for four years is unique per se or not. But a place is not unique by itself- it is the people who make it unique. I do not know the president to realize whether he is one unique man or not- but I do know this much- We are unique. We, when molded together, is like an assortment of different characters of different colors, a stunning variety- from an Indonesian bright mind whose humbleness beats you to death, to an eccentric tall guy who knows little more than being a nuisance, which is how I saved his number in my phone, to date.

Remember this assortment, as live fizzes too quickly, you might realize someday that this assortment was really something else. And rest assured, I will remember this assortment, even the tiniest parts of it, and even as years pass by and life drains any images of past- I will still be here, writing, typing, the quiet observer that I am, reversing the order of life and collecting larger images the quicker life passes by. We all stand at crossroads now. My path is visible. I need to travel alone. I know this day will come.

But though I travel alone, my path is one that collects stories, that is who I am, who discovers the little ironies of life and makes tapestry out of it. So go on in your paths. I hope when the day comes, you will have the time and memory to come see my tapestry.

Lost in Ganges- A reflection of my trip to India- part 2

I remember seeing a Hollywood science fiction film called ‘Contact’ once (if I am not mistaken), in which the human race’s attempt to establish contact with an alien race is dettered by many institutional beliefs that humans are different because they believe in God, while aliens don’t.

That is how much we seemed to pride in our ability to have faith in God. But would it be criminal on my part to state that we have made a mess for ourselves using religion as a tool rather than using it for the good that it was supposed to be used?

We all are well aware of the plenty of arguments laid out before, saying how do people kill in the name of God, which reminds me of the dialogue from Mani Ratnam’s Bombay (If all religions head to the same destination- God; why do they have to kill each other?). That much of common sense has eluded us in the past, and when I went to India, what I have seen is an alarming amount of delusion among the people- not realizing that they have turned religion into a business center of sorts.

What I may say here might make some of you uncomfortable; I am not trying to hurt religious sentiments, but merely commentating on a system that has slowly but certainly, contributed to India’s rich-poor diversity- the country’s imbalanced landscape that leaves your stomach lurching with discomfort and your eyes sore with the images you see at times.

In the country, I was first taken to Kanchivaram to a temple that was deemed powerful by our guide. The first thing I saw at the temple was a signboard at the entrance- non-Hindus are not allowed. There goes the religious unity many of us are beginning to hope for in the 21st century. Religious constraints still exists vastly in the country, as that image first indicated to me as I laid my steps into the temple. And what followed is a very tight ‘tour’ around the temple. The last time I checked, temples are supposed to be places where we could walk freely and spend as much time anywhere within its premises in order to nourish our spiritual deprivations, but here in India, there is a line that we have to follow without any choices, there isn’t any freedom left for us to move around. You walk, you get a glimpse of the God, and then you walk away. Anything more than that, you’d better pay. Cameras? Pay for it. A blessing? Pay for it. A pooja? Pay for it.

But what tops this disturbing image is in Vellore, where lies an enormous, elegant, Golden Temple, as they call it, a temple made, entirely out of pure gold. The sight of it wonders you. But once footballer Diego Maradona said, “I’d rather the money that is spent in building golden churches be used to help poor kids.” Rare words of wisdom from a footballing legend, but this quote is no peripheral matter- it actually makes sense. You are walking out of this Golden Temple and you see a beeline of beggars, and poor people waiting for you to donate them money. You turn around and you wonder something is so essentially wrong about all this- religion is about faith, guidance, seeking aid from an entity we do not see with our eyes but rather feel with our hearts, our souls. Since when had religion discriminately determined a luxury barrier for faith? Why it is that, only we could enter this temple, and those poor people are unable to do, but are rather turned away at the entrance, limited to a peripheral sight of their own Almighty? We live in a postmodern society where monetary gaps has placed such a huge divide between the ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’. Religion is possibly the only universal aspect that doesn’t separate these flawed and misleading, intangible social classes between people. It is for all, in equal measures. How could it be right then, when only the ones affording it are allowed to offer a prayer to Lord? And that too in a monetary perspective? A puja in this temple, trust me, is very expensive, why does one’s quest to see the God be so materialistically expensive?

I was stunned, to say the least, by a row of office-attire wearing staffs sitting at one corner of the temple, in front of computers, like technology geeks, and offering to place booking for our pujas. Now, we even have to make appointments to offer the Lord a prayer. ‘VISA and Mastercard accepted’- that was the obvious sign placed there. I have only one word to describe this convolution- a sacrilege.

Why is this the case? Why aren't we using religion to boost knowledge? Isn't it supposed to be that way?

Not only that, a common feature, as I have mentioned previously, in almost all Indian temples that I have visited, is a strict ‘line’ or ‘queue’ that you have to follow all around the temple. Since when has religion become rigid? Since when, have temples placed its own exclusive brand of divine meterials shopping outlet purposely on the path of this rigid, no-other-way line in a blatant act of PR, that ones again, makes a mockery by tying up business and religion?

If I were a poor man with no means of a good life- religion will probably be my only form of escapism, the only direction I would look to for some miracle, for some guidance. Wouldn’t it be unfair to deny me the pleasure of visiting God’s shrine by asking me to pay for that as well? When I couldn’t afford anything else in life, and now I couldn’t afford religion as well- where to I turn to? What will, ultimately, keep giving me my hope? Will I keep having faith?

Look at this mess through that poor man, or that poor kid’s eyes- and you will understand the sacrilege I am talking about here. There sits a mass figure of pure gold- imagine how much architecture, funding, government approvals, donations, and exclusivity would have taken to build something of that magnitude- yet ultimately it falls way short of serving its purpose- being an indiscriminate shrine of Lord where people could visit and spend as much time as they wish to. All that crores of rupees, if even a tenth of it was directed to this very street full of needy people- how many lives would the entire cause have improved?

Bill Maher once said in the opening sequences in his highly acclaimed documentary called ‘Religulous’- Religion is proving to be detrimental to the progress of humanity. When you see images that I have seen- you will feel a strong urge to agree with him. Though I give credence to his words, I don’t echo his thoughts. Just like how the Pope’s Cemerlengo says in the final scenes of Angels and Demons- ‘Religion is flawed. Because men is flawed.’ Yes, religion is indeed flawed. But its not flawed by itself, its flawed because we made it a flaw. Instead of using it as a gauge to improve ourselves in a whole, we are using to further regress and mess ourselves up. Religion is used in the right direction will channel all the right energies- but it seems we are doing almost entirely the opposite way nowadays.

Yes, men are flawed. But lets stop making religion a mirror to our flaws- lets stop making it reflect our flaws. Make it reflect the best in us, the strength in us instead.

Pray for me Brother- India's reflection

India. The country. The landscape. When my parents first called me asking whether I had any desire accompanying them in the pilgrimage they are about to make, I hesitated big time. My stomach lurched because I knew deep inside that I’m not going to see the India that I want to see. I’m not going to see Chennai, Bangalore, Hyderabad, Mumbai, or Delhi. Neither was I going to Kodaikkanal, Ooty, Goa, or Kerala. I did not see the India that tourists would like to see. I did not see Sathyam Theaters, or Spencer Plazas, or the hustling streets of Bangalore, the IT Parks, nor the Taj Hotel.

What I saw was quite the opposite- and I knew I this is what I can expect when I somehow, for a reason unknown to myself (because I wasn’t very eager to make the pilgrimage myself), I said ‘yes, I would come’. When I first landed back in Malaysia, I knew my friends are going to hoard me with numerous questions about how the country was. But I do not have words that they would like to hear about the country- I do not have niceties to deliver for them. I only ever have two words- overwhelming, and disturbing. I am 21 years old, and I perhaps have seen everything that the world has had to offer. I have seen the pinnacle of development, living in the centre of KL, and now, I have seen the possibly the ugly face of poverty- one experience that would leave any person shaken to its core, unless, that is, you are ignorant (or brave) enough to turn a blind eye and pretend you are walking on a perfectly fine road.

I travelled through the terrains along the National Highway, crossing state borders, watched elderly women limp in desperation while trying to avoid a high speed van from ramming into them, watched women and children walking in a seemingly endless and fruitless road carrying logs upon their thin, calcium-deprived shoulders in faint hope that the end of the road will provide a ray of light. I watched severely disabled people, and for once, was led to think- what’s the point of going on? What are they hoping for? I was never surrounded with so much pessimism. Carrying their children and begging with a statement that they do not have enough to even feed the child. Beggars are like milestone tombs, you see them at every corner that has even a remote landmark in a certain street. For once I was there, starring at a problem, and unable to think of a solution. How actually do you solve it? I could take a whip at politics at the tip of a finger (which is exactly what my mom did), but I knew that would do gross injustice to those whom our concern is directed at, and to those who our wrath is directed that.

I have long argued that our system is rubbish, the system of living that the society has created and enslaved its own self to, there is something so wrong about it- the system that emphasized on tall buildings, intense developments, public relations (you do not know whats genuine and whos being honest anymore), compromised values (there is no absolute truth or absolute lie anymore), conspiracy theories (there’s always something to fear about, walk out of your house with the fear you will get bombed, killed randomly, something would collapse and kill you, the train you are on will crash and kill you, be cautious, be cautious, don’t take risks, ever, and of course for the past few years, the world has met its doom time and again and somehow continued berthing us on its soil without us even realizing the jerk it made while going through the whole hassle of exploding, or being completely covered by a disaster, and then recovering itself). And if you have seen what I have seen- then you are bound to ask- where are we heading to? At what cost does success knock your door- humanity? When I was sitting at a bus station in some rural bus stop in Andhra Pradesh, I saw a girl (a fairly poor one by the looks, lower middle class I suppose), of around 10 years old sitting and isolating herself behind a couple of elderly citizens in one of the benches, with tears emanating from her eyes; she was trying ever so hard to fight them off. She shot a couple of wandering looks around the station, and then resigned back to being a subdued figure on the bench. I knew that look. It was the look which asks- where the hell is my mother/father? She was holding a small parchment of money in her hands, it became ever so obvious that she was asked to wait there. And she has waited for an awfully long time. At one side, I felt furious at whoever she is waiting for, leaving a girl of that age all alone in a bus station that even scares me by how it looks is not the act of any responsible parent. And as she continued that horrible routine of waiting while her heart just wants to whither and cry aloud, shouting for where her caretakers are; a conflicting cross over between acting like a baby and a grown up girl, munching her fear and consoling herself, I discontinued listening to my iPod; it just didn’t feel right anymore. I was standing a small distance away from her, relinquished my seat, and simply followed her act- my eyes wandered to where her eyes wandered- I looked at an approaching adult and asked- could this be her mom or her dad? And as that process continued, I found myself yearn for her parents probably just as much as she does. I imagined me losing my parents and stranded alone in a faraway bus station where people sleep on floors smelling of expired pee, as if it’s a fluorescent sprayed cushion. I knew that same tears were dwelling in my eyes. A few minutes later (which I was distracted as my mom surveyed for the right bus we have to get on), I looked back and found her talking to a woman nearby. There was relief in her face. And the smile which came out of my face was so blatant that anyone who saw it would have thought that I was a loony. But I couldn’t care less. That humanity in myself is still there, it’s still a child’s humanity, uncorrupted, uncompromised, untainted- it did not grow into an adult and I never want it to be an adult. And I told myself- the next time I come across such a scene in my life, I shall be in a position where I could comfortably denounce my insecurities behind and offer a hand to help, or probably give an ear to listen. This time sadly, I was just as hapless as she was during the wait, so I allowed myself to feel the same agony she is going through. It makes you cherish smiles, pleasures and moment of painless living even more.

What desperation might have driven the parent to abandon her young daughter in a place like this? Again we retort to the basic question- system. All these are the scraps that the unmerciful development is leaving behind- scraps that pursuit for luxury and comfort is leaving behind. It’s just plain war, isn’t it? As the old adage goes, in war there will be casualties. And this war, here are the vast amount of people who are becoming casualties. But my questions is- whose war is this? We can clearly see the casualties, but who is fighting who? Who are the winners and the losers? What will the winners get? What will losers get? It is about time these questions are given serious thoughts. But somehow many of us know its quite too late to change much- as I said, we had become slaves to the routines we alone invented, to the systems we alone invented; we have made negligence and turning a blind eye part of adulthood, we have made lying and cheating a part of maturity, we have made being stone-hearted a quality for success.

Then I remembered one of my favorite songs of all-time, and the message of it made complete sense- Pray for me Brother. AR Rahman’s composition about eradication of poverty probably has the best view on what we could and should do to help the needy- Appreciate the life you’ve got.

He (the poor man) is searching for a reason to stay alive;

Are you searching for a reason to be kind?

That’s the hypocrite in all of us. Many of us do just that, we search for a reason to be kind, while that poor man across the street searches for a reason to just stay alive. You see them closely and you wonder, whats the point of going on- when you are living in the scraps, when you are considered a filth, when people don’t want to look at you because either they consider you to be an irritation or just because you are not an image they don’t want to stick up in their minds? Is there any point at all in going on?

And think, how many of us, despite all the comforts that life provides to us- us with hands to write, legs to walk, eyes to see, money to travel, wisdom to analyze, clean clothes to wear, how many of us think life is cruel when faced with a hardship? We sit and complain as if we are the worst treated beings on earth- ignoring that poor man. And many of us just cease to go on- we do have an alarming suicide rate. If that man who has nothing but possibly a small parchment of hope could muster the courage to stay alive, why can’t we at least do that, and give life the value it deserves?

I’m ashamed ah, be brother dying of poverty,

When he’s down on his knees only then he prays.

How many of us only pray when we are down on our knees? That’s us hypocrites. In joy, there’s hardly any space for a prayer, but when there is a hardship, a desire to be fulfilled, something you need God to open up ways for us, we’d pray profusely. But that poor man across the street, treats even 20 rupees of earning as a blessing. Yes, these people do still have faith in God, and instead of moaning and complaining, they say thank you for the smallest of rewards. How many of us say thank you for being given a bed to sleep, proper food to eat, a proper house to live, a proper car to drive? How many of us say thank you for being bestowed with this life?

Many of us struggle to wear even a smile in our lives. We think the rest of the world is corrupted and we walk around, getting frustrated and irritated at the smallest of imperfections- we frown at other people, we throw insults at people whom we think are intruding a space that we alone deserve. We world is no private space, its everybody’s space. And wear a smile on that face of yours, because these poverty-stricken individuals, with almost no reason do smile- do exactly that. They walk barefooted carrying logs and rubbish for miles, yet they smile, converse happily when they meet another poor person- the kind of conversations we have while we are sitting in classy restaurants with our friends.

I’m not saying we should abandon our comforts to understand their struggle, but appreciate the presence of their struggle and improve the quality of your life. Wear a smile and acknowledge you do have a reason to be grateful, if you are being bestowed with all happiness and don’t find a reason to say a prayer, say a prayer for those who are in need.

Could you ever listen, could you ever care

To speak your mind?

Stop turning a blind eye on everything that matters- thinking that somebody will take care of it. Everybody thinks somebody will do something about it, but in the end nobody did what anybody could do. Be that somebody, don’t be a nobody- by being a nobody, we are only wasting away the life we have, reducing its value, its impact; make life worth living- there’s no bigger crime in my eyes that a failure to appreciate life- that is what possibly every religion has fiercely highlighted.

The joy is around us,

But show me the love that we must find.

The joy is indeed around us. We just fail to find it. Little do we know that every small action we take will gradually have its consequences. You release a negative energy within a crowd of people because it’s a bad day-but actually it’s a bad day because of the negative evergy that you are allowing yourself to give. It takes 54 muscles to frown, and only 14 to smile, why spend so much effort in making this world a worse place to be in? A smile, trust me, can make a whole lot of difference. It gives more hope to those in need.

Don’t let me take, when you don’t wanna give

Don’t be afraid, just let me live

Don’t give if you don’t have the intention of giving. If you want to give, give with your hearts open, let them take ot from you with a cheer. You are not helping a filth on your street, but you are helping a brother, a fellow human being. Always remember that. Many of us are afraid to give. Giving has become a crime. ‘Don’t give, it’s not gonna make any difference’, ‘don’t give they will just cheat’. Who, then, will make a difference? It’s a tiny particle of your attempt to make a difference which will slowly accumulate to make a bigger difference.

Try giving with a smile, and notice that you will sleep with more nourishment than you have ever slept. Walk ignorantly, you are bound to be ignored by another person at some other time. What’s the problem if others don’t give? You make the difference and you be happy about it- because you are different from others. And being different is no crime. What’s the problem if others don’t smile back at you? You smile, you will only leave the other person feeling ashamed for failing to smile back. The guilt exists in all of us, it’s just that have enslaves ourselves to pretending and thinking we are a higher being than those on the street. No, we are not. In fact, they understand life’s value better than we do. I’d rather stay humble and say they are greater beings, because they just live- they are not dominated by worldly pursuits which posseses us to a manic level, they know how to make the smallest amount of money count.

Cos life is a blessing,

It’s not just a show.

Acknowledge that blessing. The word needs it. Every change in this world starts with self-transformation.

And I’ll pray for that brother and that sister.

The Observer- Episode 7

The Blood Brothers

We sat one cozy night outside of that small house in a small village in the small yet vast, empty spaces of road stretching up to a place called Bagan Datoh. We looked at each other, and shared a cordial smile. Because we knew these moments are hard to come by. For all of us to be at the same place at one given time was a big ask. And that too we were there, at that same house where we had all the times of our childhood, the house that stockpiles all the good memories of childhood that all four of us have. The 'we' were four of us. The four who grew up together. The macho tall guy, the glass man, the VIP doctor, and me, Jones.

All of us are busy chasing life-fed aspirations now, busy seeding the plant so that it could grow tomorrow, busy finding our calling card and making it big in life. But these are those rare rare moments when you just dump all those aspirations to a temporary recycle bin, you just want to stand still and fully immerse in a given moment.

And here in this space, I try to recollect the best of memories we have shared since our childhood.

Accidents

Glass Man is the prominent hero among the countless number of 'accidents' or simple nutty mishaps that have happened when we were small. That's why he is a glass man, because he has developed a constant ability to run into mishaps since a kid. I can't possibly remember a person who had taken more physical bruises and falls than he has. And you could tell them all with a big smile stretched on your face, because they were just that- funny. Once he dropped a coin in a stand fan which is on and running at full speed and was utterly confident that he would be able to retain it without turning the fan off. 'Don't be crazy, will you?'- I said. But he was just that. He tried anyways. And next thing you knew, he was reeling down the stairs calling out for his mom with two of his fingers drenched in hardcore red liquid. Probably even his mom has got used to all of that.

He and doctor were on a bike once, touring around that sandy, rocky road within the village- and glass man was convinced he knew a new trick that would make him seem cool on a bike. On a corner full of rocks, he set to do a skid turn with his father's motorbike with the doctor sitting behind. 'Hey, hey, look. I can do this'- he said. Next thing you knew, both of them went screeching down, tumbling and laying flat on the ground. A great stunt was just performed. Classic. And yet would stand up, arm drenched in red liquid which so often likes to emanate from his body; and say- don't tell anybody. We didn't tell anybody of course, but the red liquid called blood on the entire arm and on the elbow told the story. Enough was said.

Glass Man didn't change much. He lives up to his reputation every now and then. After not meeting for full two years, we met again at the village house, and he added another mishap memory that will be hard to diminish. 'Still getting yourself into trouble often?' I asked; and he took his ball and start juggling the ball to show off his skills to me. 'No, not that much'- he said. 'Play farther a bit, be careful, you might break the window'- his mom shouted. He nodded in approval, extremely confident that there's no room to mishap. Five seconds later, an attempted volley went wrong later, the ball smashed two windows into pieces. It was less than a minute after his mom has heeded out the morning. 'Didn't I just tell you??' she shouted. And I didn't stop giggling in laughter for sometime. I laughed so hard I cried.

And few weeks ago when we had our latest meeting- and saw him with an arm's length in dried blood, resulting from motorbike fall-down incident (again) two weeks prior to that. That's why he is the glass man.

Brawls

Well, what is teenagehood without brawls and fights. Between us, the distance that occured came somewhat naturally, Mr. Macho has always been a tad distant from the rest of us- the three of us were pretty tightly knit together so to speak. First came somewhere in early 2002, when Glass Man decided to switch loyalties from being a Manchester United to being a Liverpool fan. And it was me who took offense of that situation, blasting and reeling him off continously for consecutive days because of that. We hardly spoke. Until he did the Houdini act with the fan.

The next was lame to say the best. It was me and Doctor this time. It was at my old house in Manjung, which was located so strategically behind the Manjung Bus Station. Strategic not actually because of that, but rather because we had an entire green field for ourselves. It wasn't a playground, it was indeed a field with short grass, perfectly ideal to play football without even being bothered by anyone else. Those were the great footballing days. We'd look forward almost everyday for the time to tick so that we could stroll out of the house and just play football, play our hearts out. And one fateful day, he bodychecked me on the way to scoring a goal- and I perceived it to be grossly unfair. The consequences of that little argument we had in that field is something no-one could have ever imagined. He packed his bags and left the following day itself, and the distance we created between us lasted a good two years. Today we look back and we could only find one word in the vocab to describe that fight and the consequences of it- stupid.

Ahoy!

We wrestled in that old wooden house, jumping on beds and automatically switching off and pretending to be just sleeping when the elders came in checking out what has been making all the noises- we were like corrupted politicians, everyone knew what were we doing, yet couldn't catch us because of a lack of evidence. We tried to camp outside the house, pretending to be soldiers.

We often set up challenges on whether we could stay up all night, smacking in glasses of coffees in a bid to stay awake till the morning, only to collapse on the bed once the sun showed up in the morning. We made almost any available space as a footballing field, the front of my previous houses, and even study tables. Anything was good enough to be a football, even a pin pong ball and tennis ball were all used. No wonder we are nuts about the sport. Anything was on for us, such was our enthusiasm. Anything was a challenge- who could run faster, who could win in a game of chess, who could win in scrabble, everything mattered. We would collapse a small stool and leave it hanging on the gate, so that we could play basketball, by using a football that is.

If we were in a car travelling, we would count the amount of cars that overtook us and the amount of cars we overtook (of course the driver was one of the uncles as always), sometimes these counting becomes so insanely important that on some trips, the person on the wheel really took our spurring on seriously and was intent to get good overtaking numbers. Passion was everywhere, young minds which were constantly searching for anything that could spur passion in mundane daily routines. And today looking back and all that childhood adventures- I realize the greatest gifts in life is indeed that zeal, that undying passion, that undying willingness to run a risk, even though later on we do get hurt by comitting them, they never really hurt, when the price we pay for all of that are these precious memories.

And they are not a distant away either.

The same cozy night, all three of us went together to watch football. Glass Man's favorite team played. Then my favorite team played. And right after, Doctor's favorite team played. And we just enjoyed the fact that we had a marathon which fulfilled the zeal for each of us.

And when we were all pretty adamant and eager to get together for a game of football a week later, I knew very few had changed. We have it inside us to re-kindle the child, the passion, the endless notoriety and risk-taker for each other. If I find it hard to re-kindle them ever, I know that they would be able to bring me back that lost edge of childish passion.

Whether it's in eating an ice cream and just talking a walk or getting lost in middle of KL and walking aimlessly; or even buying a PC from Low Yat Plaza and carrying it all the way home to Shah Alam in a motorbike- the best things that makes you say 'this is life' without a negative undertone, without a tone of resignation, but rather with a positive outlook, with a serene satisfaction- these best things don't come in grand packages.

Life's greatest pleasure does indeed lie in its smallest details. And that, I will never forget.

Ram Anand.

Blue Music Review- AR RAHMAN IS BACK!

Whether expectations from the media are high or not, it doesn't bother me, what I do know is that I'm just glad that finally there is an AR Rahman album to cherish after nine months in 2009, a year where really good music was so hard to come by. 'Delhi 6' was brilliant, and I mentioned in that review that ARR is going great giving albums at regular intervals to keep me hooked to one song after another, but all of a sudden arrived this void since he walked up the red carpet and lapped up two more than deserved Oscars in Hollywood.

I'm not a fan of Akshay Kumar, nor the type of regular movies he makes, the over-hype it gets and often lack of quality in the end product- and teaming up with Sanjay Dutt, Zayed Khan, Katrina Kaif, and Lara Dutta is hardly a sign of total difference. Despite being India's first mega budget underwater film- at around 100 crores (RM 100 Million) of budget- my expectations for the film itself are almost non-existent, so anything decent from that stable would be enough to get in my good books. Given the Akshay factor as well, I don't expect ARR to give his best album, and somewhat ironically, I also do hope ARR is not too brilliant in this album- because if Blue fails, the good music he gives for it will go seemingly unnoticed as well (look at what happened to Yuvvraaj, one of ARR's best albums ever- what ever happened to Dil Ka Rishta, it was the sort of song that should be described as legendary!). So, I lowered the target for ARR. And yes, he didn't try to make Blue his best album either, but I have to say, Blue is a ridiculously good album that runs on one USP- unpredictablity! One number to the next, ARR changes modes so affluently, and even in a commercial film like this where the only way to be going about it seems to be by giving fast-paced commercial numbers (a la Pritam), ARR leaves his stamp all over it. Welcome to brand AR Rahman! Its time for Akshay and the his team to do justice to this music. So on we goooo....

Hang on...the album is special for me personally because the female voice I fancy the most- Shreya Ghosal sings three (yes, three!) songs in this album- and not all the regular romantic number she is known for. And well, yeah, Kylie Minogue (yes, the Kylie Minogue) has also sung in this album...Enough generalizing and off to the songs, peel it one by one...


Peel 1

Chiggy Wiggy
Singers: Kylie Minogue, Sonu Nigam.

I wanna Chiggy Wiggy! This song created especially for a promotional music video purpose, has Kylie (who will appear in the music video with Akshay) crooning her Chiggy Wiggy way that somewhat reminds you of Zara Zara from Race. But, hey, this is ARR na. Listen to halfway of the song and enter Sonu Nigam with an out-of-the-blue bhangra rhythm, now this is fusion of a high-order. Inovative-ness hardly comes in a better package. The western sections suit Kylie fine, and the bhangra section suits Akshay's image fine. You can already imagine how the music video is gonna be now. Good!! But, well, here it is...Enjoy!

Peel 2

Aaj Dil Gustakh
Singers: Sukhwinder Singh, Shreya Ghosal

Put the guitar strings on, and just Chal Chal Charara re! A blues string simply doesn't get better than this. Sukhwinder and Shreya never are off-form, and putting such two able singers with a nicely arranged song, the results are bound to be infectious. Very the good!! I can't remember the last time I heard such a song in Hindi, or even Indian music arena. Well, who else but ARR to compose the first, aite? Its a priviledge for the song itself. :P


Peel 3

Fiqrana
Singers: Vijay Prakash, Shreya Ghosal

How do I put up a thumbs up icon here? Because this is the best of the lot! Fiqraana is phenomenal! Your body might tap to it without you even knowing. It is that good, and its flawless as well. The song doesn't have one dull moment, its completely consistent in its tunes and once again, guitar strings are too good- they are so Robaroo-ish. Brand ARR!! Brilliant! Vijay Prakash sound so different in this song, its abvious that ARR hymns with him at parts, but even alone, Vijay sounds like ARR himself with the way he has sung this song. Shreya, well, need I say? Of course the male singers take the limelight, Shreya is just a beautiful compliment to it.


Peel 4

Bhoola Tujhe
Singers: Rashid Ali

Kahin To Hogi Wo. Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na. Take the singing from there. Dil Gira Gaaftan. Delhi 6. Take the music and tempo from there. Resonate both of that, and you have Bhoola Tujhe. Rashid Ali has one-of-a-kind voice, and you can use this anyday to create to an emotional romantic number, and ARR leaves his stamp and slow orcehstration all over the place for this song. This is genuine ARR melody, because it grows on you further as you listen to it further. The usage of saxophones as much as keyboard beats adds a new dimension to it. Very the good!! But if you were to love this song, it takes a real romantic ear to capture the essence. If you have that, you'll simply fall in love with this.

Peel 5

Blue theme
Singers: Blaaze, Raqeeb Aalam, Sonu Kakkar, Jaspeert Singh

Blue! Bulue! Always count on ARR on at least one thing- he knows how to give a superb theme music, no matter what film. Blue theme isn't exactly ARR-ish masterpiece, but the adrenalin rush of it imemdiately appeals the listening experience. Again, ARR mixes a bhagra element into the heavy beats and its so inviting to hum along to this. This is better be used properly in the film. Because if it is used well, the results on screen would be great.


Peel 6

Rehnuma
Singers: Shreya Ghosal, Sonu Nigam

Reminds one of Hello Mr.Ethirkachi number from Iruvar some good 12 years ago. Starts of with a jazz-like arrangement, but ARR's inovativeness springs in again and beats change and keep you hooked. There is even orchestration for the song, and the music is simply so good. But whats unique is that Shreya and Sonu Nigam do not change modes, they sing in the same jazz-like rhythm while ARR changes the beats for the songs. Watch out for the Rehnuma...Neela Samandar bit that starts at the middle of the song. Which is brilliant. And you might find Shreya sounding different in this song. She does a brilliant job in this number and easily overshadows Sonu Nigam when given the chance. Good!!


Peel 7

Yaar Mila Tha
Singers: Udit Narayanan, Madushree

Yuvvraaj was a brilliant album, yet at the end we had Shano Shano, a club number which is very good but not up to the high standards of AR Rahman. This is along the same lines, Yaar Mila Tha is extremely enjoyable, but its not ARR-ish as much. But its slightly better than Shano Shano, and has some innovation done by ARR in the song. Again, good!!

All in all, as I have mentioned, Blue is a ridiculously good album. Now with a sterling budget of 100 crores, the makers of Blue better do justice to the good numbers ARR has put forth for them. Definitely exceeded my expectations.

Thumbs up...Thumbs up...Clap Clap for AR Rahman..

He is back!

Rating: 8.9/10

The Winner Stands Alone

Paulo Coelho has definitely left his distinct feel good factor that has always been part of his books with his latest offering- The Winner Stands Alone. And the book is definitely apt with the title, standing lonesome, it is a disturbing offering that is best put in Coelho's own words at the beggining of the book- it is a 'crude' portrait of where we stand today. Yes, very crude indeed.

TWSA is set at the Cannes Film Festival in Southern France, an annual event where the luminaries related to the film industry come and participate in a high order of the social spectrum. The entire story is set within a 24-hour time frame of the festival, focusing on different characters whose stories intertwine with each other. The main characters are:
Igor- A Russian telecommunications mogul, the main character in the story. He comes to Cannes in order to 'destroy worlds' so that he could win back his ex-wife Ewa- to show her that he could kill for her sake. Over the course of the story, he kills six people in the festival, but goes through a personal revelation of his motives as well.

Ewa- Igor's ex wife, who is now married to an Arabian couturier, and a successful one at that. Left Igor after knowing that Igor is dangerous and is more than capable to kill if provoked, but now has to confront her fears again as Igor comes to the festival.
Hamid Hussein- Ewa's current husband, an Arabian couturier who has a rags to riches story behind him, an extremely successful person who is at Cannes to take a look at a new uprising model, and also in order to finalize details about his maiden production venture in films. Loves Ewa deeply.
Jasmine- A black Belgian model, who is the next discovery for Hamid Hussein. Comes from a poor background in Belgium but is discovered by a photographer, and comes to Cannes to perform in her maiden fashion show. Hamid offers her a large contract to join his label.

Gabriela- A small time American actress, who is at Cannes in order to audition for roles, and on that day, grabs the role as the leading lady in Hamid Hussein's maiden production venture.

Savoy- An inspector in the small town of Cannes, who is excited by the prospect of a serial killer on the loose in the otherwise silent, crime free town, a prospect that could see him finally prove his worth as a detective.

The story is brilliant. Coelho's ability to wave a 24-hour time frame narrative in a full novel is a matter to be praised. And being a long-time reader of Coelho, it'd be also fair to say that Coelho's writing has significantly improved over time. His writing in itself is more engaging compared to his other works, and he is arriving on par into becoming a total page turner of a writer. And in this book, Coelho also seems to have developed an ample ability to be a thriller writer, he manages to throw good surprises and manages to keep the suspense going on an even manner.

However, that being said, this simply isn't what a Coelho fan would normally expect from him. In an effort to become a page turner, Coelho seems to have lost somwhere the essence the writer that had been adored by millions all over the world. The spiritual essence of the book is somewhat missing, or to be more fair, it has got lost somewhere in middle of Coelho's attempt to becoming a thrilling writer. At that same time, in an attempt to fit a 24-hour time frame story into a 300-page book, Coelho's writing meets tedium at many parts. There seems to be extensive criticism and commentary of the film world and also the world of the rich, but knowing myself that Coelho has always had a negative impression of the film world, I can't help but to think he has taken it a bit too far and a bit too personal in the commentaries. Added to that, the commentary is the whole book is very much the same- oft repeated. The same criticism is repeated constantly in the book and it becomes predictable and stereotypic after a certain point. Above all that, characters. Apart from Igor, and then Savoy, Jasmine, and Gabriela at certain intervals- the rest of the characters in the book appear uninteresting and some makes you wish you could just skip the pages. Hamid and Ewa's characters are especially pedestrian and do not evoke as much interest, nor does Coelho's writing add any extra dimension. Apart from their relationship with Igor, and how they relate to his mission, they could be easily removes from the narrative structure of the story. At times, with such characters, the story reaches a halt, the flow breaks uninvitingly.

The story's conclusion is also left somewhat hanging, raising more questions than it answers, and failing to answer most that is raised over the course of the book. But probably that exactly has been Coelho's intentions, to write a book that just raises questions and not provide answers. And has he had accurately pu it- the book is a crude portrait of where we stand today. And on that aspect, you have to agree with him. A fierce critic of the materialistic culture myself, I could relate to the central idea of Coelho's theme in this book.

All in all, The Winner Stands Alone is a work apart from other Coelho works. It might be a classic for some, it might be very dissapointing for others. But trying to be objective, I'd say the book is neither perfect nor flawless, it has both perfection and flaw, but most importantly, it stands out from previous Coelho works- its simply different so to speak- without using any other adjectives.

Passable.

Rating: 7/10

Can Manchester City win the Premiership title?

Can Manchester City really challenge the top four, or even, win the title? Okay, well, we tried to entertain this question at the beginning of last season and turned out to be quite a downer for all the hype. This summer, Manchester City have gone on a spending spree (again!) and many people are refusing to be drawn to entertaining that question again- but times do change, and its about time they are given a serious consideration (if not deliberation) about their capacities to reach the higher echeleons of the Premier League this season. Of course, we could only analyze all this by viewing the squad that they have right now.

Goalkeeping

Let's not kid ourselves. Goalkeeping is an important function and area for any team, this is where the essential leadership of the team comes in, the final backbone that the entire team knows they could rely on. City headed into last season with Joe Hart, an untried, untested England hopeful as their first choice but things have definitely changed now. Not that he did any badly, but City needed experience and an established figure to stick between the posts and in came Shay Given. He's 32, and for plenty of years, he has been THE goalkeeper in the Premier League who time and again had bailed Newcastle United out of misery. Many rate him as one the Premier League's best, and if the 'big four' never gave him chance to have a crack at the spotlight many people thinks he deserves, then City might well be the place for him.He has made a sterling start to the season and you'd naturally expect him to continue on that. And for all those who'd think it might dent Hart's promising development, he was immediately loaned out to newly promoted Birmingham City, so that he would get the regular playing time that he desires. And to back Given up, the team brought in Stuart Taylor, another experienced face, a second choice keeper at Aston Villa previously. So no harm done eh? Smart move. Full marks for the goalkeeping department. (Come on, they can't get Buffon or Casillas YET can't they? Given is good to start with).


Defence

Hmm...Well. If I had written this few weeks ago, I'd say on the basis on the defence that there's no chance City could be champions or frontrunners in any possible way this season. But hey, again, times change. Look at the depth in defence now, and its delightfully good. Instead of going for highly rated defenders from overseas, Mark Hughes has concentrated in bringing in experience Premier League campaigners with proven standards to shuffle up his defence. The final 'Invincible' from the Arsenal team that won the league title in 2004, Kolo Toure has arrived to shore up at centre back- and he will be partnered by another new arrival, England centre back Joleon Lescott- who has arrived after a much-maligned transfer saga from Everton. Current captain Richard Dunne might depart the club though after his error-prone performances last season, and knowing that he will no more be a first choice defender for the club. Nedum Onouha is a reliable centre-back who could come in to cover for Lescott or Toure during troubled times. England prodigy Micah Richards meanwhile will take up the mantle at right back, but he is also able to shift to the centre should his services be required there. Defensive midfielder Vincent Kompany is also able to play in that position. And the competition for Micah's right back slot is another skilled, honed player- Argentinian right back Pablo Zabaleta.At left back meanwhile- if Wayne Bridge, who arrived from Chelsea during the winter, feels that he owns the role for sure, the arrival on free transfer of established Brazillian left back Sylvinho (who won two Champions League titles with Barcelona) would definitely keep Bridge on his toes. See, there's competition everywhere. And well yeah, lets not forget- there are Tal Ben Haim and Javier Garrido as well, not that they are going to see much first team action though.


Midfield

Ah, here we come. They say football is won with midfield battles. City basically play a 4-2-2-2 formation, with two central/holding midfielders and two wingers on either side covering up the midfield. Here, they have wealth. Gareth Barry, the established England midfielder purchased from Aston Villa, will be a regular feature in that central role, with his first choice partner being Stephen Ireland, City's best player last season. And then, the wealth of back up. Michael Johnson, a true England hopeful; and Nigel De Jong and Vincent Kompany, both considerably talented defensive midfielders are both available for services. Then, off to the wings. Shaun Wright Phillips will be a fix in the right wing, and Brazillian samba wizard Robinho will be a fixture on the left wing, drifting in as the game goes on. So what if they need a winger to cover up? Ireland could move into one of these roles, given that City have many other options in the centre, and of course, seasoned Bulgarian winger Martin Petrov, who is back after an injury ravaged season and is raring to get going.

Attack

City are simply spoilt for choices here. Emmanuel Adebayor has arrived from Arsenal, and the towering Togo-ese will definitely be the central target man for City this season. Partnering him in attack would be Carlos Tevez, who has established himself firmly after two successful seasons with City's fierce derby rivals, reigning champions United. And Roque Santa Cruz, the Paraguayan who has arrived from Blackburn, will play as a back up to Adebayor's role. Craig Bellamy will play as Carlitos' cover up, while Benjani will, almost certainly- rot in the reserves, unless he leaves sooner rather than later.

So do City have the neccessary quality? A big YES.

What will it depend on? Of course the manager, the onus is on him now to make this team of stars deliver, and also to a lesser extent, whom he chooses to be his captain, now that Dunne certainly would not feature. Shay Given looks like a very likely choice, but Kolo Toure, who had captained Arsenal before, is an experienced lad as well and could be given the mantle.

Fasting, Feasting- Book Review

The subject of cultural clashes and a stern Indian cultural examination has been discussed time aplenty through many books and unspectacular, simple movies over the years, yet few have come to the heights of Anita Desai's Fasting, Feasting. Without letting the deep-layered weight of her own story to sink the book into the opaque, removing the reader from relativity and going too far in metaphorism (as some authors have tendency to do), Anita's book is kept simple, neat, written with a clear outline that doesn't stretch much pages beyond necessity.

One can interpret many meanings from Fasting, Feasting, which tells the story about an average middle-class Indian family who live near the vicinities of the Ganges river. Mama and Papa are the parents; bestowed with three children, the eldest is Uma, who is not as pretty nor as educationally smart as her younger sister Aruna. Uma is almost in her late teens when the youngest of the lot, Arun is born. The 'fasting' section of the story focuses on Uma's travails- how her parents stopped her from continuing her convent education so that she would take care of the newborn Arun, and how she had two marriages attempts (one where the family were cheated their dowry money, and another that didn't last more than a day as the family found out that the groom has another wife) failing miserably, stamping her unlucky for marriage. This part of the book is a stunning exploration of the Indian mentality about women within the marriage system that sets alight in the culture; and being a fierce critic of business-like, systematic treatment of marriage within a considerable part of traditional Indian culture myself, I found the this part fierecely accurate and wonderful in bringing out the layers of emotions that woman ought to feel- and how the character of Uma, who is treated throughout like a virtual slave in her own house, an outcast in the society due to her marital status, copes through her mistreatment quietly and with resignation. The ending of the fasting part of the book is brilliant nevertheless, a great story worthy enough of a screen adapatation in the future. Parts of this section of the book is a bit stretched and long, but the overall impact is much more attaining than the shorter Feasting.

Feasting shifts focus upon Arun, who is sent to USA to further his education (not by his own choice). Through Arun, Anita represents another major problem with the Indian conservatives mentality- the sometimes obsessive pursuit of education glory and overseas education perceived with prestige by such families- Arun is virtually spoon fed on what he has to study, where he has to study, and what he should become, all within a set system. This results in Arun becoming a disconnected human being all in all, which is later explored in Feasting, which documents basically the summer he spends in a typical American family- the Pattons' household. Arun is fed to believe that US is a better place than India, but later he ends up questioning himself as he witnesses the family's unconnected way of mingling around each other, something which he is not used to. Arun settles into loneliness but it was a summer that he is forced to reflect on his own views, as he sees similar pictures to that he saw at home- only in a different way (the Pattons' daughter Melanie representing an westernized painting of Uma).

While the Indian setting shows the women 'fasting' and finding solace in matters such as religion, family responsibilities, the American women are depicted 'feasting' in a frantic search of one matter that will finally satisfy their purposes- such as Melanie's candy bar eating habits in search for a slim figure which ultimately results in a disaster of health, and Uma's sudden solace in the extrememity of religion and small souvernirs in amidst her desolated loneliness.

All in all, Anita Desai does a fantastic job in protraying a void that women in both cultures seem to be having, and this is definitely a fantastic book to read for any literature lovers out there.

Fasting, Feasting- Feast on this fasting.

Wake Up Sid- Music Review- News: Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy are back in form!

Yes, they are back in form. After a couple of mediocre albums by their standards in recent times, Shankar Mahadevan, Ehsaan Noorani, and Loy Mendosa are back in the usual form for Dharma Porductions' Wake Up Sid, which features Ranbir Kapoor and Konkona Sen Sharma in the lead roles. The music will definitely create a positive buzz around the film for one, as the expectations and the promos starts to kick in. When you put the SeL combo together with legendary lyricist Gulzar, you definitely have a formula for success and in this case, both the lyrics and the music complement each other so brilliantly in this case.

Wake Up Sid (Shankar Mahadevan)

You will wake up with energy if you listen to this. A great flagship opening number, totally resonating the theme of the film. 'Wake Up Sid, Saare Pal Kaahe' (Wake Up Sid, every moment tells you)- the lyrics by Gulzar ebbs a sober-ness into the half-meandering mind and I did listen to this album very early in the morning and it did a world of good by completely waking me up and getting me going. Shankar Mahadevan's singing needs no commentary, he is a proven veteran and does a fantastic job in low and high pitch modulations throughout the song. Lets Wake Up to the album!


Kya Karoon (Clinton Cerejo)

Remember Lakshya's Main Aisa Kyu Hoon? This song pretty much reminds me of that number. Obviously a number that will look great on the screen provided the right picturization, the song describes the helplesness of a young guy. But SeL make sure they do leave a signtaure that sets the song apart from many other similar songs- the singer. Clinton Cerejo, you simply will find it hard done to go for a more unconventional choice to sing a song like this, Clinton hasn't sung any such solo numbers so far, so this is a new try, and he does a fabulous job with how he renders this song, that itself sets the song apart. A fgood follow up to the flagship number.


Aaj Kaal Zindagi (Shankar Mahadevan)

Stand up and applause. Or just close you eyes, listen, and be tranced. Can't find enough bombastic words to describe this. Just effing brilliant! SeL's best composition in a while. If you are one of those persons who is just lazy to get up in the morning, then listen to this. You'd be pushed into your senses. Again, Gulzar's lyrics are phenomenal. 'Tere Liye Naya Zameen Naya Aasman, Likhde Hawa Ho me Koi Naye Daastan' (A new earth, a new sky is waiting for you, write a new story in your heart). Shankar simply carries the song to another level with his singing, just too good to be true on a Saturday morning. All I can say is thank you SeL for the brilliant number. Best of the album!!

Iktara (Kavita Seth, Amitabh Bhattacharya)

I thought I've listened the best of the album, but 'Iktara' makes it difficult to choose. I still chose Aaj Kaal Zindagi because of the song's lyrics and meaning which is much more deep, nevertheless Iktara is simply a classy blues composition, a romantic number with the best ingredients. You have to listen to know this brilliance. Kavita Seth is a great voice, and Amitabh (of course not Bhachan) gives the song an unique contrast with his soft, melloe voice mingled with the Iktara chorus. Hats off!


Life is Crazy (Uday Benegal, Shankar Mahadevan)

Rock on mode maybe? This were the kind of songs that SeL famously composed Farhan Akhtar's Rock On! last year, a band-like song with a rock-like energy. Yes, Life is Crazy. Its a good ode to end the album, a soothing album with (again) nice lyrics by Gulzar and percussions kept simple, with singing taking centerstage. Uday Benegal is very good in his croooning, well, SeL simply don't get it wrong at all in terms of their singers in this album.

Overall

The only downside is that you wish some of the numbers are longer. Both Aaj Kaal Zindagi and Iktara are just around 4 minutes long :(. With such brilliant numbers hard to come by, I wish they'd be longer (5, 6 minutes anyone?). Wake up Sid is a very good flagship number, while Kya Karoon and Life is Crazy falls into the impressive, good category. So theres actually nothing bad about this album. Simple and delightful morning songs.

And you'd hope this is start for SeL's return to form, this is their first good album of this year, and with many big projects in the lining (especially My Name is Khan), you could expect some great stuff from the trio are turning slowly into Bollywood's most prolific composers.

Rating: 8/10

Pick of the bunch: Aaj Kaal Zindagi, Iktara

Kaminey- a Review

Go Charlie Go!!!

As I sit here typing the first words of my review for Kaminey, the Dhan Te Nan theme music still rings strongly in my ears. And I had a term that I could finally coin this movie with- Royal Masala. Yes, its my own term. If I had used the term masala as it is, it would just remind of all the loads of Bollywood commercial cinema regularity, Kaminey doesn't belong in that association, it defines 'masala' in a brand new way- the Kaminey way. And its royal.

Charlie and Guddu (both played by Shahid Kapoor) are identical twins who have grown up in the slums of Mumbai. Charlie is a small time gangster who works for three Bengali brothers who fix horse races, while Guddu is a small time NGO activist about AIDS awareness. His girlfriend Sweety (Priyanka Chopra) gets pregnant with their child- and she soon pesters him into marrying her, only then does the truth show itself- Sweety is the younger sister of Bhope Bhau, a local wannabe rag-cum-politician, who after discovering about Sweety and Guddu's relationship, is after Guddu's head as the brothers are migrants from the neighboring Uttar Pradesh state, as Bhope runs an agenda for his own state of Maharashtra.Charlie meanwhile accidentally disrupts a 10-crore worth drug transaction, and after discovering what he had accidentally stolen, takes the drug in his own stride to pull of a deal and make his dreams come true, leaving the drug lords are fervently after his head for this. Charlie and Guddu's story soon collide with each other, with the drugs taking the centerstage to everybody's pursuit- resulting is often comical, tragic, yet thrilling consequences.

Shahid Kapoor simply steals the show in his dual role. There is an obvious distinction between the ragged Charlie who spells every S word as an F, and the more silent, quiet Guddu who stammers heavily in his speech. This is by far the best performance of the year so far and Shahid has definitely taken his career to the next level with this film. He seemed to have grabbed with both hands the golden opportunity of working with an acclaimed film-maker like Vishal Baharadwaj and has given his soul to enacting the twin roles. Priyanka Chopra, after a streak of flops that has seen her market value plummet including her high profile break up, makes this her comeback card with a strong, commanding performance in a role where she seems to have not applied any make up to give a natural look. She is loud throughout, yet eventually lovable for her affection towards Guddu. Amol Gupte (who was the writer of the 2007 blockbuster Taare Zameen Par, which marked the directorial debut of Aamir Khan), shows that he is as good an actor as he is a writer with a great performance as Bhope. The rest of the cast just ebbs on with their roles, each fitting in perfectly.

Tassaduq Hussain gives the film an edgy look with his cinemtography, with plenty of close up shots being scattered all over, and also a few handheld shots to give more thrill to scenes, and definitely suceeds in doing so, giving the film a distinct tone that is mantained throughout. His camerawork for the Dhan Te Nan song is also fantastic, with excellent balance of colors.

Where the film wins however, in in the music department and the writing department. Now, in that two areas, are the champions. Vishal Bharadwaj is an impeccable talent. I'm resisting myself from starting all over again about how brilliant his previous works were (Omkara, an Indian adaptation of Othello, and Maqbool, and Indian adaptation of Macbeth), and not only that, also how brilliant his music was in both of the films. But however thought he would only fit the artsie side of movie-making and music-making are on the wrong, because here this film is a money-raker, and the musics are definite chart-topper. Dhan Te Nan deserves all the applause and hype it gets, the number is sensational and the choreography is even more sensational. Fatak and Raat Ki Dhai Baaje are both highly enjoyable but Vishal's background score is simply a masterclass act, off the top shelf. Check out for Pehli Baar Mohabbat, my favorite number from the album, the only slow meoldious romantic number which appears at the end credits.

The screenplay by Vishal and three other writers is brilliant. There are simply no stop gaps. Every story keeps colliding with the other, there isn't a moment in the film you'd feel is going too fast or too slow, the pace if simply an act of perfection itself, you are hooked to the screen for start to the end. There is enough action (realistic ones, no flying stuff), and above all there is enough comedy and also enough emotions to completely charge the film as the film-watching experience you'd cherish for a long time.

And of course, Vishal's direction. He is a genuine talent and it is evident for everyone to see with this film, and finally, I'm glad that he will get the commercial success that he deserves after his two Shakespearenan adaptations, despite being purred on by critics, were both overlooked at the box office counters. This one, however, won't be. Because it's simply Royal Masala.

Dhan Te Nan!!!

Rating: 10/10