Dangerous, life threatening stunts in the rest of the world: skydiving, scuba diving, surfing, rock climbing, snow skiing, water skiing, snowboarding, mountain biking, mountaineering, storm chasing, hang gliding, and bungee jumping.
Dangerous, life threatening stunts in India: Traveling in a train, writing railway exams, eating dinner at a posh hotel, being of a certain religion, losing a cricket match, wearing appropriate sporting gear, not belonging to a certain state, expressing affection on stage, working for a major IT firm, being of a certain gender, getting a nomination at a prestigious award function abroad, smoking at a public event even if that’s what you do regularly and now visiting a pub.
For those who love the adrenaline rush, there is always living and breathing.
We Indians are real adventurous.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Super. Awesome. Brilliant. Winner. Really?
I live in that part of the world where English movies come to the cinemas after the whole world and its wife have watched, dissected, hated/loved them. Some like Dark Knight come after the lead actor is dead. Yeah, it takes that long.
But, because the movies come here ambling along at their own pace, the hype built around them is enough to cause stampedes at the cinemas, even if they are as exciting as watching popcorn pop.
With Slumdog Millionaire, we knew the stars, the musicians, the crew and the chaiwallah before the movie made it here. We speculated and waited. And then it came.
And then suddenly, I wasn’t sure what all the hype was about. A lot of us came out bewildered; looking very lost, grappling with the fact that we didn’t think it was choke-on-your-breath-in-admiration fare. While the rest of the world was falling over itself, swooning at the storyline, I was a little stumped with the rave reviews people were giving it. Also, as it happens with situations like these, I thought I was one of the few who was cursed with severely cramped intellectual ability. Turns out not.
I will admit it’s an entertaining movie. You love the boy, his disarmingly charming innocence and in his older years, his inability to be cunning. It’s fast paced, flows smoothly and keeps you riveted. Those were the raves. The rants. If you have lived in Mumbai or anywhere around it, you stare at Jamal hoping somewhere he would be more in touch with reality. Jamal seems strangely optimistic. Like he’s living in another planet. There is no sense of disillusionment, which is almost characteristic to such people. Yes, they do live happily and strive constantly, but the discontent exists. And in SM, there is a constant attempt to dust that under the carpet. Dev Patel , our hero, hits puberty and then stays there. Frieda Pinto on the other hand grows up (some assets weren’t pushed up to be staring in our faces but her face does age). By the end, our teenage boy looks like he’s probably going to fumble under her shirt while she looks like she’s been around. And of course, they then break into a song and dance routine. Smooth, very smooth.
The movie, as is tradition, does no justice to the book. But, I wont slam it for that. But, to someone like me, it skims over the tough parts making Jamal’s life look like a series of unfortunate incidences rather than something that is a way of life. Which is why I won’t shower it with superlatives. I think if this movie were made in India, it would have sunk without a trace. What do you think?
But, because the movies come here ambling along at their own pace, the hype built around them is enough to cause stampedes at the cinemas, even if they are as exciting as watching popcorn pop.
With Slumdog Millionaire, we knew the stars, the musicians, the crew and the chaiwallah before the movie made it here. We speculated and waited. And then it came.
And then suddenly, I wasn’t sure what all the hype was about. A lot of us came out bewildered; looking very lost, grappling with the fact that we didn’t think it was choke-on-your-breath-in-admiration fare. While the rest of the world was falling over itself, swooning at the storyline, I was a little stumped with the rave reviews people were giving it. Also, as it happens with situations like these, I thought I was one of the few who was cursed with severely cramped intellectual ability. Turns out not.
I will admit it’s an entertaining movie. You love the boy, his disarmingly charming innocence and in his older years, his inability to be cunning. It’s fast paced, flows smoothly and keeps you riveted. Those were the raves. The rants. If you have lived in Mumbai or anywhere around it, you stare at Jamal hoping somewhere he would be more in touch with reality. Jamal seems strangely optimistic. Like he’s living in another planet. There is no sense of disillusionment, which is almost characteristic to such people. Yes, they do live happily and strive constantly, but the discontent exists. And in SM, there is a constant attempt to dust that under the carpet. Dev Patel , our hero, hits puberty and then stays there. Frieda Pinto on the other hand grows up (some assets weren’t pushed up to be staring in our faces but her face does age). By the end, our teenage boy looks like he’s probably going to fumble under her shirt while she looks like she’s been around. And of course, they then break into a song and dance routine. Smooth, very smooth.
The movie, as is tradition, does no justice to the book. But, I wont slam it for that. But, to someone like me, it skims over the tough parts making Jamal’s life look like a series of unfortunate incidences rather than something that is a way of life. Which is why I won’t shower it with superlatives. I think if this movie were made in India, it would have sunk without a trace. What do you think?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Wow, I have been away for long
There isnt much to explain my absence from the blogging world. Except laziness, perhaps. Or terrorism. Nah, not really.
For starters, let me say Happy New Year. And I am hoping with all my being that this year is nothing like the last. That I am a better person this year. I have my resolutions (which i shall not put here for reasons of secrecy and my inability to keep them) but I have wishes, for the whole world.
In 2009,
1) We will learn the value of a life. Human or not. Irrespective of religion, colour and race. Because no life deserved to be snuffed out to please your fucking ego.
2) We will bury the past. A past tainted by bad decisions, splattered with the blood of innocents and scarred by horrifying memories. A past that angers us today because we never got rid of the pain we created then.
3) We will not teach hate. Not to our children. We wont feed them propaganda fed to us by corrupt politicians and self-serving bastards.
4) We will be fair. Even if it means our ego takes a thrashing.
5) That we will not walk away when we know someone needs our help. We wont turn our back and justify it to ourselves. We will help with the money. But more importantly, we will give them the love.
Lets make 2009 the year we wake up.
For starters, let me say Happy New Year. And I am hoping with all my being that this year is nothing like the last. That I am a better person this year. I have my resolutions (which i shall not put here for reasons of secrecy and my inability to keep them) but I have wishes, for the whole world.
In 2009,
1) We will learn the value of a life. Human or not. Irrespective of religion, colour and race. Because no life deserved to be snuffed out to please your fucking ego.
2) We will bury the past. A past tainted by bad decisions, splattered with the blood of innocents and scarred by horrifying memories. A past that angers us today because we never got rid of the pain we created then.
3) We will not teach hate. Not to our children. We wont feed them propaganda fed to us by corrupt politicians and self-serving bastards.
4) We will be fair. Even if it means our ego takes a thrashing.
5) That we will not walk away when we know someone needs our help. We wont turn our back and justify it to ourselves. We will help with the money. But more importantly, we will give them the love.
Lets make 2009 the year we wake up.
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