Movie review: Aa dinagalu (Kannada movie)

Thanks mom for watching this ahead of me and reviewing it for me, Dad and Little Sister.

Rating : Must watch (if you know Kannada)

This is not “just another” Kannada movie…I will leave this “just another” qualifier comfortably vague…I don’t even want to think about elaborating what most Kannada movies are like…So, let me just get on with reviewing this movie..

This movie, is set in the Bangalore of 1980s and centres around the dons of those years…For a movie centred around rowdyism, extortion and crime, it has been made very well…It doesn’t have “in your face” sort of violence that puts most of us educated, urban mortals off…And it is exactly this that why I liked the movie on the whole. Apart from this, it has been very carefully shot (The screenplay is by Girish Karnad, so no wonder! And just in case you haven’t heard of Girish Karnad earlier, he is a playwright and has won the Jnanpith, Padmashri and Padmabhushan awards) Any critic would not miss to appreciate certain things about the way the movie is shot….Set in the 1980’s, it must have really been painstakingly shot..Apart from resurrecting the Yezdis and Rajdoots for the movie, a lot of care must have been taken while shooting….You cant afford to show the Pulsars and Victors or the Honda Citys or other cars on Bangalore’s roads! They ve even taken the pains to resurrect old analog phones where the dialing had to be done without push buttons! The long cigarettes (veteran fellow viewers point this to me!) used to be fashionable those days and the screenplay and direction is that detailed!

There are only two songs in the movie, and both are good….The movie has a sub-story with a romantic angle to it, fitted very well into the movie, not distasteful a single bit…so much so that I almost repented not having been in my twenties during the 80s! May be I could have met my dad and befriended him somewhere down the line! Not that Dad and I aren’t friendly now….But I guess Dad and I would have influenced each other much much more if we were peers! ;-)

Coming back to the movie, the music is by Illaiyaraja…another reason to like the movie!

And finally, its based on a true story…the movie has been made based on part 1 of a three part Kannada book called “Daadagiriya dinagalu” which translates to “Days of rowdyism”..

In all….a fresh and refreshingly good Kannada movie in a looooooong time! A must watch for those who have even a passing acquaintance with Kannada….

Bangalored!

Paranoid, as I am ( I am not sure if this is a congenital defect, because I don’t really remember being any different any time else!), I had asked for a cab to pick me and the Lord up at 2 15 am…I hadn’t slept partly because it would be pointless and largely because I wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I wanted to anyway!

So, we reach the village railway station platform (a very long one indeed!) in time, to take the 3 am local to the City of Joy exactly as I had planned it out in my mind. Now, often times in our lives, and especially mine, we realize that the best of plans could backfire. (Murphy’s law?)
Reason had suggested that at 3 am, the locals would not be crowded. And I had also been told that locals get preference over the other trains and would therefore never be delayed. Only the latter turned out to be true, so I have to thank this friend for the reasoning.
My own logic would fall flat on its face, and the Lord and I would have to make do with sitting on our travel bags near the door of the local train! This would still be fine…until….flowers, fish and the mixed fragrance of the two hit us hard with people transporting them..and the next thing we know is that the fish are being carried by people in bags placed right next to us…In a while we also realize that the water hadn’t been drained from those bags and the fishy water was wetting our very travel bags on which we were sitting! YUCK! YUCK YUCK and YUCK!

7 am…that’s when we reached the airport, with a good 2.5 hours away from departure. We may have reached atleast 20 minutes later if not for the psycho of a taxi driver who got us there from the City of Joy’s railway station (bridge!)
The Lord fell asleep while we were sitting at the Arrivals section of the airport, and yours truly would not be able to sleep, would not even be able to read business magazines..He had already been emotionally transported to the Garden City..He would soon be Bangalored!

The last thing that could have happened to us was a delayed flight, or worse still a cancellation…and thank the good Lord (I mean, the Lord apart from my companion, the Lord believed widely to be a resident of the skies), we wouldn’t be victims any further….Our flight was on time, and I forced myself to stay awake, lest I miss the opportunity of reading the in-flight magazine.
I would eventually fall asleep for about an hour in all, and that despite having the window seat, from where the view was simply….breathtaking!

Bangalore’s pleasant weather, described very ordinarily in terms of temperature (which was at 23 degree centigrade) was exactly as I had remembered it to be…Salubrious..May be it was just the psychological feeling…admittedly so…but then, what the heck! I had been away from this place for less than 24 weeks, and that could not possibly have taken away memories, dreams and nightmares of 24 years!

After saying “Bye for nows” to the Lord and another friend who happened to be on the same flight, I was destined to be reminded of the notorious characters of Bangalore – the autorickshaw drivers who mob you and start speaking in Hindi, just because you are coming out of an airport. Not to mention being asked to pay 5 times the regular fare!

Little would they know that I am a local, and a veteran at that ;-) Yeah..this word “local” and “localite” has, especially in India, at times negative connotations, but I have never cared less! I am a localite. And a proud one at that..So, I ask the rickshaw guys to first talk to me in Kannada (why don’t I look like a Kannadiga?? I mean, I really am not one but why do I get mistaken to be a Mallu and even a Bengali but not a Kannadiga or a Gult!) …So I tell the rickshaw fellas that I am a localite and they cannot take me on a ride literally…not on excess fare atleast! I only would have to walk a small distance to find a guy in his right mind to charge the correct fare according to the meter and would, to my good fortune happen to be ready to go where I want to go…

For first time Bangalore visitors…this needs some explanation…The auto rickshaws seldom bother about where you want to go…It is where they want to go that matters!
I am headed to Little Sister’s office, so that I could technically be picked up and from (well, near) the airport. The space-time separation between the airport and Little Sister’s office is typical to the separation between most places in Bangalore…Things haven’t changed much since I had been away…A few kilometers or even meters can still take a long time to displace oneself amidst the chaotic choc-a-bloc traffic.

Familiarity, as they say, is comforting..And the traffic only made me feel at home..Bangalore’s way of welcoming me I guess!

Little Sister is now a pro on Bangalore’s roads, and Yana (my Santro for those who forget!) has got along with Little Sister quite well indeed! Little Sister has been taking care of Yana quite well when I have been away and Yana transported us smoothly home in less than 30 minutes over around 10 kilometers.
Little Sister thinks I have been “out of touch” and combined with sleep deprivation, I was disqualified enough to be allowed to drive!

Home! “Home is where the heart is”, or so I had read as a young and gullible kid, and I don’t know why I remember it…But, at times (as Oscar Wilde has suggested), the plain and simple truth is rarely ever simple or plain! I can vouch for the fact that my heart was back here, in Bangalore, at home..

The squeaky clean floor, the familiarity for my feet…I could just lie down on the floor and kiss it…

Home food; Even simple rasam and rice tasted…heavenly!

And then came this without warning: Talking talking and more talking…for a little over 4 hours…when we finally decide to go out for dinner…Naah….not at one of those classy restaurants where the classy families indulge in family dining…Simple pleasures…the simple things are what fascinate our family..now, earlier and probably forever!

VV Puram’s circle is famous in Bangalore for having a street full of eat-outs..Some of them in shops; some of them made by street hawkers…Those Masala Dosas and idlis, those Bondas (deep fried snacks, called “Chop” back in the village)..those Churmuris - the south Indian equivalent of Bhel for the uninitiated…Man! What all had I been missing for these 136 days!

I eventually get the better of Little Sister and despite being asked by all to reconsider driving after a night’s sleep, I have it my way (I am a guest getting royal treatment remember?)…Well….a few glitches…I have indeed lost my charm..I can drive very well…..But the camaraderie that I used to share with Yana needs renewal!

After putting Yana to sleep, I decide to get myself some sleep…Sleeping at home…after 136 days! I could sleep for 136 hours continuously!!!

Hijli Break!

Hmm…I guess the origin of this term needs some explaining before I actually start explaining how the break happened.

The Acumen guys, the 4 of us were on this “express” train from our village to the City of Joy and we were talking about how this Institute of Management in the City of Joy used to joke about themselves and their Joka, being located in a locality called Joka.

We then decided to come up with a funky name for our own debate and quiz teams, and yours truly, even when he was half asleep, came up with this name ;-)

Before people start using this for their team names or as status messages on instant messaging applications, or captions for pictures or elsewhere, I had to put this up on my blog just so that I can claim the credit for having come up with the name ;-) And all this without having watched a single episode of Prison break :-)

Of all things familiar.

Hi Samiksha,

I just realised that its been more than a month since I wrote to you...I can't even excuse myself for having not written...Yeah, I did have my end semester examinations, but the amount of time I wasted while doing/not doing the exam prep, I have lost the moral right to use exams as valid excuses...Now that I am not going to get either a 5 pointer or a 10 pointer, I guess I will have to settle for something in between...Let's kill the discussion on grades right here!
I can go on no end about looking back at how this semester went and blah blah blah...

But, the only thing that comes to my mind is that I am only around 36 hours away from a place, which feels almost as long as the 136 days I have actually totally been away from there..

Familiarity, they say, is blinding...and I can bet I am sure that I knew myself too well before coming here...If nothing else, the MBA , apart from being a nice timepass (4 months just flew past!), is a self-discovery tool. Well, it has been one for me at least...
We'll leave the discoveries for another day since the recovery from the discovery is itself still on ;-)

Unfortunately, the only things I can think of right now, are seeing Mom, Dad and Little Sister after 136 days, and going back to the familiarity of my room, home, the weather and the food...
A strange feeling of simply not wanting to think of anything else has conquered my mind I am in complete surrender and submission...So, before I start blabbering what I would otherwise normally do, let me just end this ostentatious "milestone" post here...
See you in Bangalore! You were born there (in my mind really, but your birth certificate will still need to have a location as required in this country..); so..may be coming back to your birthplace (and mine!) gives me more to write about! 36 hours...
For now, I don't have anything to write home about....I mean...write about ;-)

Love,
Vishwas

Dreams!

Dreams!

Some dreams can cause curiosity and confusion in concurrence...
Believe me this is no co-incidence or occurence; it is more like recurrence...
This singular dream was confusing enough to even be considered a dream...
Some dreams leave you wondering if they were actually nightmares!!!

Fortunately, I can excuse myself with the alibi that I could not help it...
That anything that is forced on one can be met with resistance or wit..
But dreams and nightmare dont provide you with any opportunity...
You re just an unconscious victim, lying down unaware of any mental activity...

This man in my dream of last night..

He was diseased...All of the mind...
He was diabetic...He had to avoid all the sweet (things) in life...
Much as he would at times be tempted to enjoy the sweet things...
His pancreas was actually somewhere in his mind..
Only one thing could possibly cure him of the diabetes...
His mind...He just had to make up his mind..

He also had arthritis...
His life was like this jigsaw puzzle...
And all the joints hurt...
Joining pieces of the puzzle was not just insanely difficult,
If one joined them all together correctly, it would pain and hurt...
And disjoint, he would be go about his life, just fine!

He had been surviving, more like existing than living...
His mind,over the years it had become diseased...
Rarely with anything would he be pleased...
Until...

Until one day he met an angel...
The angel came to him in the form of a Paradox...
Our man...with all the disease in his mind...he was a moron..
And the angel, a paradox in disguise, was a lovely lady, Oxymoron...
May be they would make a nice pair...

But hang on right there...Not all paradoxes can be dismissed with smiles and appreciation...
Angel Oxymoron was a panacea, a cure-all...
But cursed as he probably was...he was beginning to fall for her, the Angel...
Only to realise that she was a chimera...and possibly an ephemera..

But like most men, he wanted to take a chance...
He dreamt of having her for consort (dreams in dreams are allowed by the way!)
But she heard of it as concert...

At this point in time, the dream, for some reason the dream took a turn...
Taking off from the idea of the "concert", the consort disappeared into the background....
May be the Angel Oxymoron was really was an Ephemera...She wasnt around..
The audio was beginning to gain at the cost of the visuals...

Now, I was in a concert...I could hear Mozart..
And then I could hear the "Old Spice" jingle..written by Carmina Burana and widely mistaken to be inspired by Mozart...
Only that a few seconds later I realised that this was my alarm going off ;-)

I will probably never know if the climax could have shaped up any differently!
I ll leave the speculation and imagination for a later day!

The nostalgia virus bites...yet again!

Hi Samiksha,
Recently, a virus attacked my Lenovo (her name is Shrimati if I havent told you earlier! Shri is Wealth and Mathi is Intellect in Samskrit, and my lappy better help me acquire/increase both!)
Yeah...so, this virus attack had happened and as a result, the "Run" menu had disappeared from my Start Menu. And then, the Folder Options submenu under Tools had also disappeared.

I was aware of this, but I just let it be....unattended...Yes...I ignored my Shrimati! Until...Until I tried installing Java and needed the Folder options thing to be set right if I had to save program files with the .java extension.

Now, this was a three way handshake (anybody remembers Data Communications, Andrew Tanenbaum???)..I mean a three way nostalgia...coz it reminded me of three things at the same time.
1. My consulting days, when I used to help this French client with Microsoft support on their development server.
2. My Java programming days at this global Fortune 100 tech company that was conceived in a Palo Alto garage (the brainchild of) by two Stanford grads...
3. This techie scribble that went under the name of '"a poem"... Here (below) is the poem, flicked from my old blog....
Yeah....when I scribbled this down last November, I was in a bit of a complaining mood...and rather confused....Not that I am any better this November!
But this time around, I am complaining about the confusion in my own mind...
(More on this confusion and the corresponding complaining later please!)

Now for the poem!!!

NOTHING CAN EVER BE A FAR CRY!!!

I was crying when I was born I guess.
But why do I really want to cry again now?
To begin my life with the beginning of my life...well I was crying!

Will I ever get a chance to restart my life?
If I hit "Ctrl-Alt-Del", I can use the Task Manager -
But you see, the agnostic I am, I cant fully believe in "Him".
I dont think "He" can help me end any of these "Processes".

I reach the Shutdown button, but I am not a coward;
And logging off is not an enabled option on the "Life"(Live) Server.

Restart is the most glamorous option I can dream of.
I dont want to be born again; it is simply unromantic.
I am not sure I will grow up to concieve these ideas again.
I am not sure if losing both dreams and nightmares is a good bargain.

Yes, I certainly want to Restart.
For, this has been known to often solve problems.
Restarting, they say creates a new environment.
Because of this, they say, Restart quite often does the trick.

But, the Restart I am looking for is slightly different.
I want to Restart into a different and new environment.
I want "Custom settings"..or atleast a different set of "Defaults"
I need software that is both forgiving and with which I cant find faults.

I am sure I aint asking for too much.
Asking for a Restart is not too much as such....

The world I dream of has no place for false prestige.
Mankind is really kind and knows no religion.
There is no farce of social status and all society is "High" society.
Men, women or substances are not abused and there are no artificial highs.

The Objective and the Subjective are objectively distinguished.
This world is made up of atoms and molecules and all else is mere opinion.
All opinions are different and the differences are respected.
Of people, places or objects, nothing is unfairly expected.

Opinions, like people, are respected for intrinsic values.
They are still liked or disliked owing to Subjective tendencies.
Subjection to dissective analysis is certainly permissible.
But inflicting pain on people has been made impossible.

I have had very vivid dreams.
I have survived nightmares that came true.
My mind has concieved romantic glamourous and charming ideas.
At other times, it has been the battleground of conflicting ideas.

Waking moments have been spent with confusing thoughts...
And incomprehensible dreams have fused with the confusion...

But I shall dream tonight.
I shall sleep hard.

And hope I wake up into a new "Session"....

If I wake up into an old and stale world, there is still respite.
I shall upgrade hardware and migrate to a new software environment.
I am used to living in carefully suppressed, yet strong disagreement.
But, I shall remember to dream really really hard this singular night.

Vishwas

Such is life!

Hi Samiksha,

Life, as some cliches suggest, is indeed a roller coaster ride. And life took me for a ride this time around. Just as I had finished packing my stuff to leave with 12 others on a week long tour of Sikkim, something happened.
My loomie had contracted conjunctivitis, and all the planning he had done even before joining this B school, seemed to have "gone for a six" to put it most politely. That night when we (the 13 others) found out for sure that he would not be able to join us, I had mixed feelings that night as I went to bed. I did not know then, that I would wake up with red eyes the next morning.

“I knew if I continued to look around it would be difficult for me to contain my own emotions. So I turned away from the red eyes of the crowd and looked only at the red eye of the camera, talking to all the nation.”

That was my status message on Gtalk for the next three days, as the gang, now comprising of 12 left for Sikkim. The last thing I ever prefer giving or taking is sympathy, so please don't feel sorry for me! I am just pouring my heart out to you since you are the only real soulmate I ve ever had ;-)
So, the Creative 2.1 speakers I had bought a few days ago, just after the mid sem exams would come in handy, as 2 eye drops 4 times a day each would allow me very little time and energy to stare at a laptop. Day 2 of sickness was one with reduced redness and pinkness; but I was in the pink of health otherwise. Oh yeah, blurred vision also meant that music was the best way to kill time apart from forcing myself to sleep! I started reading Kishore Biyani's "It happened in India" only because it had a big font and reading it would hurt my eyes the least ;-)
This gave me solace for more than one reason; given that the last book I had read after leaving Bangalore was Richard Bach's "Across the Bridge Forever". (on the 1.5 day train to this place, The Village).
Anyways, Day 3 and Day 4 of Red Eye would fly by (not exactly!) and my loomie and I would leave The Village to join our friends.
We reach The City by noon and board a bus in the evening...Little did we know that this would be the worst ever bus journey we had ever had. 17 hours on a bus with nothing more than biscuits for food, and being thrown up and down by the potholes, to do any reading or sleeping; It is really at times like these that I really think really really hard about Life, Philosophy, Luck, Destiny and Fate. The thinking that my bird brain can afford, it never gets me anywhere anyway. Even if it does, there are somethings that seem to be totally beyond an individual's control, and one can't do much about these "somethings" anyway!
For all that I had gone through, the visit to Nathula pass on the India-China border in Sikkim was more than compensation. The very thought of going up to the border along the Old Silk Route; as if it were not enough, the hospitality afforded by the Captain (lets not take names!) at an altitude of 14,400 feet was overwhelming to say the least.
The next, and really the second/real last touring day of the trip would be spent visiting places in and around Gangtok, and after visiting a viewpoint, a few monasteries and a Stupa before going into a hotel for supper, I fell....
Hold on...the fall was of the kind I would like to have all over again ;-)
Tashi Delek was where some of us had supper, and I badly want to go back there..
It would be an ideal setting for a date...And even a honeymoon..After all one thing could lead to the other right? ;-)
Coming out of the restaurant, onto MG Marg, while some go into this shop "Vividha", a Gift shop...I see this lovely lady in the Gift shop, she was like herself a gift from heaven, her feet on the earth, and no rings for thorns ;-)
She walked past us again later that evening, when I had aleady bought a balloon!
This time around, she had let her hair down...

How I wish I had the courage to say something then....
And how I wish I can attempt some poetry now...

But....but...I don't know her name; nor do I have a picture of her...She is Sundari, and her image is stored in my brain, struck on the screen of my eyes as it were, for a looong time!
So, no poetry for now....Except for....whats my current Gtalk status message ;-)


Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.....In your light I learn how to love....In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you....One day You will take my heart completely and make it more fiery than a dragon. Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet....