Ek Udaan

When I was in school in Iraq I had this classmate of mine whose mother was our English teacher. She was a decent teacher, but the reason I remember her now is because she used to slap her son in front of us in the class. It used to be painful seeing it. Her son, my friend, was quite intelligent, and not being so would not still be reason enough for that sort of cruelty, but I could never figure out why she would subject her son to such humiliation in front of his classmates. And the most harmless of things would prompt the beating. He would be so ashamed of his daily beatings in the morning that he would rarely come out to play in the evening with us. Even at that time, and we were just about 8-9 years old then, we could feel that she was unhappy with herself and that's why she would beat her son.

This came to me today after watching Udaan.

It's a beautiful film. Not the least for some of the best acting I have seen in a Hindi film in recent times. But also because it hit home in some way.

No, my parents were (are) much much better than Rohan's father in the film (who goes to rather unbelievable extents of cruelty), and I sometimes wish they were a little cruel, for it might just justify my craziness, and selfishness, but it hit home because unlike many of my friends from Delhi, Kolkata, Bangalore and Mumbai, I know what growing up in a place like Jamshedpur is.

Of course, Jamshedpur stands in for hundreds of small Indian towns where thousands of people dream and then give up. I have come to take for granted a lot of things I have been given in my life and am wont to forget that so many others I knew, a lot more talented, a lot more capable, will take up that dreary job in the factory, will get married, will have children and will hope to see their children achieve what they could not. And then their children would repeat the same thing, maybe move a notch higher if they are lucky, but still lead stifled lives.

Jamshedpur is actually a lot more happening than the movie portrays it to be. I had my first pizza there, way back in 1991. I grew up in a township about 80km from the place, and it used to represent a weekend of freedom when we would take a monthly trip to my aunt's place, having that fabulous south Indian breakfast at Anand restaurant in Bistupur, having lunch occasionally at Kwality, buying audio cassettes for the latest hits, buying a comic or novel at that small shop in the basement of Kamani Centre, going through the collection of Commando comics that my cousins had - Jamshedpur was almost like being in New York for someone growing in the backyard of Jharkhand.

Jamshedpur also represents the pain that preparing for JEE was the first time around (I moved to Kota after a failed first attempt, stopped living for 9 months, and cracked the exam). My Brilliant Tutorials centre was in the town and making those periodic trips to the place knowing that I would do badly in the mock tests, gradually losing all hope and confidence in my chance to get to an IIT, that perceived gateway to a life of prosperity - so many young students must go through that.

I wanted to take up Arts after Class X. Study Literature. Write. But, you see, I was good in studies. Science made more sense. But then, that's a story we have heard so often and is hardly worth talking about.

I also saw Inception this weekend. The movie will go on to become one of the most talked about movies of the year, if not of our generation. But I think Udaan is a better movie. It's about dreams we actually saw.

I love it when a film makes me go all crazy. That is what films are for.

Chicken marinated in rum and cooked in coconut milk

That's what I cooked for dinner tonight. Inspired by a Discovery Travel & Living show's episode on Caribbean food.

And it tastes beautiful. I modified the recipe a bit since I forgot to buy lemon-grass and made my own curry powder. I feel really proud, and sated tonight.

The recipe is something like this:

Take around 500 gm of boneless chicken, cut it into bite-sized pieces and add to a bowl with 2 tbsp white rum (I used Bacardi rum, not sure if that is the right one to use, but it turned out fine), 2 tbsp fresh lime juice and 2 tsp garlic paste/minced garlic. Mix the chicken pieces well with the rest of the contents.

Cover with that wrapping plastic sheet (can't recall exactly what it's called) and leave in the refrigerator for marinating for around 2 hours.

For cooking, chop one large-ish onion into fine pieces and add to 2 tbsp of heated oil. Saute on medium flame for 5 minutes or so. Add the chicken pieces and the liquid remaining in the bowl, cook till the pieces change color and turn soft.

Add 1 tbsp curry powder. Which in my case was made of cumin powder, coriander powder, a bit of turmeric, a bit of black pepper powder and some garam masala. And some salt.

Mix well, and then pour in around 150 ml of coconut milk. Cook for around 5 minutes till the chicken reaches the required softness.

Serve with steamed rice.

And fly.

Two films and a soundtrack

There are these green, very green, oasis-like days in a life pretty much dry, brown, desert-like that make you thankful for being alive.

I saw two brilliant movies today and listened to a soundtrack that just blew me away, and I just had to write here about them.

I read the Ebert review on Shutter Island immediately after the film was over and was pleased to see that he also noticed the similarity with King Kong in the first scene. The sense of foreboding as the boat approaches the island, those amazing camera shots set the piece just right. A beautiful movie. It gives me goosebumps to see that someone as feted as Scorsese still loves being a child so much. I wish I could meet him some day.

The other movie I saw today was Toy Story 3. Apart from my persistent fascination with how Pixar keeps throwing trumps every year, I also loved a very personal chord that this film touched. That feeling of leaving the familiar environs of the place you went to school at, for college, has never been portrayed better anywhere else. I miss those days badly - the luxury to waste time. Things changed so much after I left for Delhi.

But, the best part of the day was listening to the soundtrack of Udaan. This is such a mind-blowing compilation that I felt guilty for having downloaded the album off the net. I am going to buy a CD of the songs soon. And I really look forward to the film, coming out on July 16. A film with songs like these can't be worth not seeing. A film-maker with music sense like this is worth looking out for.

To repeat what I just told a friend of mine on GTalk, Amit Trivedi is the new Rahman. In fact, I almost look forward to his new tracks now more eagerly than I do Rahman's. There surely can't be a bigger compliment.

Meetha Sa Chadha Hai Bukhaar...

Does it happen to you that a song that you heard some time back hits you suddenly in as mad a rush as the Mumbai rains?

It happens to me.

Very often.

I am not an expert on the intricacies of what constitutes a great song, but I do fall in love with songs once in a while. Like people tend to fall in love with other people for no rhyme or reason.

And then I fall out of love. As people tend to do. For no rhyme and reason again.

These days I am in love, for no reason I can explain, with O Pardesi from DevD. It's a beautiful sultry song that asks me to make love with it every time I hear it. I have multiple orgasms listening to it, and I keep playing it in an infinite loop on my iPod Touch.

I don't even dare to watch the clip from the film on YouTube for I am afraid I might die of happiness.

Ok, it's been 10 minutes since I listened to the song, and I need to get back for my fix now.

Nainon mein sapne hajaar, and all that...

Nihari (and Butter Chicken) in Mumbai

I had made a memorable trip to Pakistan with college friends in 2006, and during our stay in Lahore, our host had helped us do a round of some of the best eating joints in the city. One of those memorable experiences included a breakfast of hot, soft Nihari and Khameeri Roti. A decidedly heavy meal, which still makes my mouth water on occasions.

Having spent a few years in Delhi, I also had the good fortune of trying out Nihari in the Jama Masjid area, but the less than clean environs do not encourage one to make frequent trips.

So, I had been looking for a long time for a clean eating joint that serves great Nihari - a dish very likely to figure among the top contenders when shortlisting a menu for gods.

And since I am writing all this here, it must be obvious that I have finally found a place like that in Mumbai.

The Lokhandwala outlet of Jaffer Bhai's Delhi Darbar does not have a seating arrangement yet, and I had to make a long pilgrimage from my flat in Goregaon East to the place and back before I could partake of the divine food, but it was all worth the trouble in the end.

The soft, succulent piece of meat accompanied with the delicious Khameer ki Roti made the one hour of combating Mumbai's weekend traffic a small price to pay.

And the gravy! The rich, thick gravy, sprinkled with green chillies, is not for the faint-hearted. A few hours after my lunch, I was already missing its taste.

The chicken biryani - one of the better ones I have had in Mumbai - and the shahi tukda - an absolute must after a good dum biryani - added to the beauty of the meal.

If you like (love) non-veg food, not having tried the Nihari at Jaffer Bhai's is unforgivable. The chain has outlets in other parts of Mumbai as well, where they also have full-fledged restaurants.

And this was on Saturday. I was back in Lokhandwala the next day. Their butter chicken is almost as memorable.

To think I still haven't tasted their Paya (which they make only in the evenings) and Khichda and so much else.

Rajneeti, and Aloo ka Bhujiya

Two things I think Rajneeti could have significantly improved upon were the editing and the dialogues.

The film felt unbearably long at times. In fact, when the interval sign came up on the screen, I could hear several people exclaim, "What, abhi interval hi hua hai!". But, one can excuse the length given the large number of important characters and so much happening between them. The Chopras took tens of episodes to cover the stretch of Mahabharat that this film covers in around 3 hours.

The dialogue, on the other hand, can't find refuge in any such excuse. Except for some rare moments of brilliance, I felt the dialogues did not pack the punch that the situations, the characters or the film itself deserved.

But, barring these small issues, and Arjun Rampal's wooden-ness (and even that seemed less wooden here), the film was a very enjoyable experience. Thankfully, I didn't go by Raja Sen's review and went ahead with the late night booking. I feel he was unnecessarily sarcastic and critical of a film that is a great watch not only because of the deliciously cruel and human characters it is populated with, but also the fun one has in drawing parallels with the original Mahabharat. Like Bharti's first son being born out of wedlock after a night spent with someone called Bhaskar, whom she worships like a God.

Raja Sen's review made me feel if he is being paid now to write reviews making fun of films, just as Nikhat Kazmi and Taran Adarsh seem to be in the pay of Bollywood to write glowing ones.

What I like about Prakash Jha's movies is this rawness that seeps through the frames. That rawness might seem to have dulled, with an out-of-place item number, where Katrina Kaif does her patented shimmying moves (you know, those ones where her hair is untied, blown by some unseen industrial size fan, she looks down, looks at you, smiles coyly?) almost providing the nadir of the man who started off with Daamul.

The traces of that rawness that are to be found here are deeply cherished. Even though chief-ministerial candidates getting down to shootouts and vindictive baseball bat sessions might seem far-fetched, the other bits of naked greed and ambition were extremely enjoyable. Especially considering that all happens within one family. So much for the Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham brand of cinema.

Even though Kalyug remains the best Mahabharat adaptation into modern life, Rajneeti does not do a tawdry job either. Any film that is well-made, largely well-paced and well-acted, and has almost no character, like Mahabharat, and like real life, completely fault-less, ought to be encouraged.

An experience with a film like this is like eating dal, bhaat and aloo ka bhujiya. It hits the right spot, even if the bhujiya might be a little too oily or the rice slightly under-cooked. Unlike most other good Hindi films today, which might be momentarily delicious like a pizza, but not what the body truly craves for.

***Spoiler Alert***

I did hope for a while that it would be revealed at the end that Indu was responsible for the death of Prithvi and Sarah - ek teer se do nishaane, getting the seat (CM's) and the meat (Ranbir's, if you may allow the rhyming) - maybe with the help of Brij. Draupadi and Krishna finally doing what they should have all those eons ago.

Also, Prakash Jha makes a Hitchcockian (or Ghai-an, if you prefer) cameo appearance towards the end of the film. Can't recall him doing that in any of his earlier films.

Mani Order

I had met Mani Ratnam during his visit to our campus at IIMC a couple of years back, and have been in touch with his team ever since. Got a chance to see his newest release today. Helped by a special invite, you might want to know, to an exclusive premiere.

Raavan has to be the most quixotic film Mani sir has ever made. I am known to be biased against Amitabh Bachchan's son and daughter-in-law, neither of whom can act to save their lives, but who manage somehow.

Till now at least.

Abhishek Bachchan outdoes himself in the film. In overacting. If Mani sir hadn't been sitting beside me I would have probably walked out 1/3rd into the film. It's an insult seeing Abhishek Bachchan get another chance to come on the screen. He is just too bad.

The rest of the film, including the regularly idiotic Aishwarya Rai, is a lot more bearable. Now I know why she would want to act with her husband in films. It just hides her inadequate talents.

Sushmita Sen must burn so much (partly responsible for her tan) every time she sees Ash hamming through another role, and bagging all decent roles.

Friends

This must be the official pushing-away-friends week.

I very often feel that I am multiple people living within me. At least two different people. And the more stupid one, the one who is probably writing this, is the more dominant one.

I told a friend, whom I always want to meet and love immensely, that I was in Bangalore over the weekend. Even though I was whiling away time on a rare free weekend in Mumbai.

I haven't replied to this girl I knew in school, who was a close friend, and whose name I have been googling for ages to get a clue on where she was, and who finally mailed me this week. The last time I corresponded with her was in 2000. Because I am not sure I want to show her who I am now.

Have been avoiding talking to a close friend from engineering because I just don't know what to talk about.

And I have been trying to pick up fights deliberately with the friend I value the most.

And I can't control any of it. I really can't.

Maybe this is an apology.

But, we are like this wonly.

Beera!

It's kind of unfortunate that I so look forward to a movie despite it having the irritating Aishwarya Rai and the even-more-irritating Abhishek Bachchan.

Of course, if I knew Tamil I would have watched the Tam version, which I am sure is going to be better.


In the meantime, listen to Beera (http://rapidshare.com/files/379327415/Raavan__2010_.rar).

Consult Focused

Please do read the post below, where I appear to be a heartless capitalist bastard, but say, and more importantly, don't say, enough to show that I might not just be one.

I just found a few interesting articles that I really wished to share here, before I forgot, and hence this abrupt increase in frequency between consecutive posts.

Vibhor mailed me this link to a series of articles written by an MIT alumnus called Keith Yost, who worked for The Boston Consulting Group in Dubai for a few months and got back to Boston a lot wiser.

He writes extremely well, and even though I feel he is being a bit too harsh on Dubai, and way too harsh on BCG, thanks in no small measure to the immediate surge of antagonistic feelings one is bound to experience when leaving a job or a posting (refer my posts on Bangalore from last year), I enjoyed reading his articles on life in Dubai and life as a consultant.

Dubai's artificiality I can vouch for, and have written about more than once earlier. There can be few places I despise more.

BCG, on the other hand, is an interesting pack of people. Would reserve my comments on it. And other similar firms, who are the easiest targets for disillusioned grads from the top colleges across the world who think of themselves in more complimentary terms than they ought to.