Late... Abysmally... Raavanan

 Ok... so hold on, I know Raavanan is history, and you care for it as much as you care for the dried bug sticking to your window... but bear with me.... I have to vent about this insipid little movie no matter what you say!

I watched the tamil version of the movie with a bit of apprehension... mainly cuz it was a movie from my fav' director (who hasn't given a decent offering in oh-so-many-years), and secondly cuz it had Ash Rai in it. Yes, I'm one of those confirmed Ash haters! I wrote down my reflections as I watched the movie... so my review here is in a very stream of consciousness method! read on!!

...So you hint that karthik is ratnam's version of hanuman by making him jump thru trees? but kudos to karthik for actually jumping from bough to bough inpsite of his advanced years -- ahh.. how the mighty have fallen
and because he's associated with the monkey god, he has to be a forest ranger that hangs from jeep roofs and hoots like a monkey...

... cinematography captures the mood...

...dialogues - very soap operaish. super dramatic... i mean people, do you really talk that way?...

...chemistry btwn rai and vikram is good... the only thing that ropes u in in some otherwise unbearable scenes
prabhu has really come into his own, lending solid support to the main actors. his intense performance stands out...

...wonder who gave rai her vo in tamil... she sounds like a crone and the dialogues come out very reluctantly...

at one point i really wished somebody would shut rai up... there's a diff between lyrical dialogue and listless dialogue...

...that is one super water and violence proof eyeliner/mascara - pray, can i have it too?...

.... I realized that ratnam is more in love with the scenery than script sense... what else would explain rai abruptly crying out to her ram framed against the starkness of unending miles of black rock!

... prithvi is turning out to be a good actor... 

... as much as i don't support video piracy, i'm glad i didn't shell out money to watch this in the theatres...

... ARR's music for usure pogudhey and kaatu siriki stands out. And... vairamuthu proves that he's the god of lyrics with well thought out poetry that contains a wealth of meaning.... 

... Mr. ratnam, where have your agni natchathiram days gone? when will we see another nayagan? is that it? are you burnt out? do you need a trip to tibet to recover your senses?

Ok, buddies... I give it 2 chillies... pretentious but not hot!

Daddy's lil girl

I lost my father two weeks back. Normally, I can talk about anything under the sun given enough caffeine, and I can even write about anything under the sun given enough time with google. But this loss has left me bereft of words... and even after thinking long and hard, I'm not able to find the right combination of words to express myself. Isn't that a strange place to be in? It's like having a sharp, hard, diamond shiny with unshed tears lodged in your throat. You can't swallow it because you're afraid swallowing it will lead you to forget; on the other hand throwing it up will probably lead to hysteria.
It wasn't till two weeks back that I realized how important dads are to little girls. Everyone thinks it's the mother who influences her daughter's nature, but I think its the father who really defines his daughters life...
A father's neglect can lead to a woman who is fractured within herself, pitching the need to please a man against the fear of being rejected.
A father's neglect can lead a woman to cut herself on the knife of mistrust in close intimate relationships.
A father's neglect can even lead a woman to think she doesn't deserve all unconditional love... a father's neglect can lead to so many things...
So here's my note to all you daddies who might stumble on this blog - take care of your lil' girls heart... it's a tiny little chrysalis within which lies a butterfly built of dreams, and memories of one who handled her heart with care...

Me: Doc, I think I have a disease. Doc: What disease? Me: I believe it's called shopping...

I have added another chronic illness to the global medical chart – shopping. I know there are numerous jibes about shopping and women, but I seriously think we have a disease… ok, I think I’m going to have women burning effigies of me … let me rephrase… I think I have a disease. Now you may say, “Shopping is a woman’s birthright and we will have it… so don’t call it a disease.” But before we rampage to that conclusion, let’s study the characteristics that define a disease:

1.  A disease is an abnormal condition affecting the body of an organism
Now I’m not saying shopping is abnormal, I’m merely wondering if its abnormal when you become religious about your shopping experience. For example: My wardrobe is bursting with clothes and accessories… but every 15 days (and I’ve wondered if this may have something to do with the full moon/ new moon nonsense) I get this urge to go and buy something… anything. If its clothes or accessories I buy… that’s an ultimate high… but the odd sticky note stack helps too.

2. In humans, disease is often used more broadly to refer to any condition that causes social problems
No, I’m not stretching it… not shopping has often caused me social embarrassment! When I don’t shop, all I think about is shopping when someone is spouting Proust to me. When I don’t shop, all I do is pepper unsuspecting women with questions on where they bought a particular kurta or bangle or ring. And when I haven’t given into my shopping urges, I tend to plaster my face against boutique windows and sigh over clothes…

3.Disease causes distress
Yes, I get very much distressed if I don’t shop. It’s like an itch (in a place where you can’t scratch publicly). The itch first sends out only a tingle to let you know its arrived; it then sends you an urgent call to let you know that it needs to be scratched, till it finally decides to take a hatchet and hammer you till you scratch it.

So, am I right? Is shopping a disease?

A day trip to Puducherry a.k.a Pondicherry

So, hubster surprised me Saturday morning with plans for a Pondi trip. I haven't been to this lovely union territory in almost a decade, and of course jumped on the plan claws, teeth and tail. It had been raining the night before, but Saturday morning turned out to be a gorgeous day with the sun out in all its glory. We packed up some snacks and my in laws into our new car (I later realized hubster wanted to go on a long drive to break in the new car before it hit the 1000 km mark! Oh, well...).
Navigating city traffic is the worst part of it all in chennai. Cows, goats, cyclists, truckers, irrational cab drivers are all packed into one narrow street that has no traffic lights, and the only traffic cop of duty is usually just standing on the spot scratching his crotch. Anyways, we hit the first toll booth in less than half an hour (we started from Besant Nagar, Adyar), and paid 80 bucks. Once we cleared that and hit ECR (East Coast Road) the ride was sheer joy. The roads are cleaner, smoother with no potholes and there's not much civilization on either side to bother you. I managed to click a few pictures from the car, and have listed them here as sort of a travel diary. Here's my "What I Saw" list:

 I just had to stop when I saw a tender coconut vendor on the side. Sipped yummy coconut water, and then bit into some delicious nongu (palmyra fruit). Tender coconut: 15 Rs. Nongu: 3 for 5 Rs. Satisfaction: Priceless!

An hour before Pondi, I saw these salt fields as we went over a bridge. I pestered hubster to stop, crossed the street and took these shots. The salt fields were stretched as far as my eye could see. I was fascinated to say the least. hmm... so this is where the salt I use comes from...

It took us 2.5 hours to reach Pondi. I know some people get there faster, but we took our time taking in the scenery that whizzed by. I was surprised at all the greenery, the paddy fields, and the number of small villages that lay between Pondi and Chennai. Above, Pondi welcomes us.

My first view of Pondi - congested and noisy.

 Old architecture still rules in this section of Pondi

And some men still use the tractor as a mode of transportation!

And then we turned a corner into the French Quarter to some picturesque scenes...

 Serene...

A lighthouse

 The Gandhi Memorial

Just caught my eye for some reason

A family eating under the tree Indian style!

Our Lady of Angels Church....

... under renovation

Trying some stuff with the cam...

 Jewelry and clothes - these are some of my fav'rite things!

I liked... I liked....
                                                                                                                                                                         
                                      

One last look at the other messy side... and I'm ready to leave

Salt fields on the way back...

Women working hard...

Breath taking isn't it?

Two lovely lamp shades I picked up at Pondi. Hubster bargained and got me both for 250 rs.!!

So that is the end of my wanderings and meanderings. If you like any of my pics (yes, I like to flatter myself), do drop me a line first :)

Deviant Deo for men

No, I’m not hawking, or launching or going to swoon over a new brand of men’s deo; I’m simply chewing over some of the deo ads that have been attacking me through the idiot box. First was the Zatak deo for men ad – it shows a bride ripping her ghoonghat (veil) and exposing her ample bosom at the mere whiff of Zatak emanating from the hot dude next window. Then there is the Denver deo ad, which shows a siren coming out of the water a la Ursula Andress when a surfer guy pulls out a can of Denver Deo. Mercifully the ad stops short of showing her untying her bikini bottom when he uncaps the can. Then there is Axe, and another one with the gorgeous Neil Nitin Mukesh which shows women dropping everything they are doing in less than half a second and running after their perfumed man like little puppies after a walking talking bone.

OK, I get that women’s sexuality has, is and will always be commercialized… my question is why do only men’s deo ads have such a high level of sexual innuendos? To illustrate, let’s take a few women’s deo ad. First up is Dove. Now dove commercials tend to be classy with their use of “real women” (fair enough). The ads will show cucumber slices and green tea leaves with nary a glimpse of a man’s well sculpted pecs. God forbid we show a man drop his pants the moment a woman smelling of Dove walks by. Then there’s this other deo called Temptation, which follows our heroine’s shapely legs and bod as she discards her clothes and steps into a shower, and then liberally sprays herself with Temptation. She then slips on a red number and slips into bed with a sleeping form (which had me waiting in anticipation). The camera pans and we see that the sleeping form is a huge big teddy bear (eugh! sigh… I’ll never look at a teddy bear the same way again!) But WHAT? You can’t show a hot, sexy man thang under the covers? So, you see what I mean? A deo can be hot and happening deo for a man, but has to be mild and conservative for a woman. Why can’t the hypocritical association of advertisers give us a deo ad in which a man is willing to rip off his clothes for the lady? The day I see an ad like that is the day I stock up on that deo in bulk, and even bathe in it!

Calling all writers in Chennai

So I'm obsessed. Completely and totally. With what you ask? With the idea of starting a writer's group in the hot and dusty city of Chennai. Now, I've always jumped in defense of Chennai if any dared besmirch its name by calling it conservative and duller than a certain stephanie meyer book. "I mean look at the pubs we have," I say. "And the fashion shows. What about the amazing theatre line up? Or did you ever step into any of the happening restaurants?" so on and so forth.
But I am feeling sheepish to say that I haven't found a Childrens Creative Writing Group in this wonderful place. (If I just exhibited a spectacular amount of ignorance and you know of groups like that thriving here, please do find it in your heart to forgive me and spare a shoe in the process)
So, like I said I'm obsessed. I really weally want to start group or be part of such a group. If you happen to be an individual who shares my obsession, simply hollr!

Welcome!

occur.

My Definition of personal space:

Your space is your feelings, emotions, thoughts, God-belief, ideas - everything that makes you unique.

So, welcome to my space. I hope you stay.