Skyfall. The Movie Review

Skyfall…- cranked out by now 50 year old – Bond franchise… Seems it is desperately trying to re-invent itself, trying to stay relevant, trying to remain successful.

To me this is like the best Daniel James Bond Craig show, and one of the top 007 acts. Right from the word Go. Opening sequence in Istanbul is great to watch.

The moment of pride, in a puerile sense, is when we see Bond driving Indian cars…. I mean Jaguars and Land Rovers…. don’t they belong to Indian owners…!

The climax is biggest un-Bond-esque. No high tech wars, no adrenalising chases. But pure grit. It almost seemed climax fight in 'Ramgadh' of a 'Thakur' surrounded by 'gundés'.

In a social sense also, Bond is re-inventing. The villain has gone gay, hitting at Bond. Great act put by Javier Bardem.

Adele's title song, and the title show. Thumbs up.

However, the producers do seem to run out of yarn to spin… the story keeps developing sideways, backways etc. The movie goes a bit slower (not boring, but, at all). Bond girls are much subdued and seems scarce. There is hardly any vodka martini – shaken or not.

Lastly, looking at Shanghai… there is again this feeling, bad at that, how we as a country is just getting left behind. At one time we used to see lots of America and all that West and used to dream. Now we see lot of China, and dreaming continues. For all that fabulous infrastructure…..



Cheers,

mg

net.mail.in@gmail.com

 

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

The Body. The Mind.

 

 

 

 

Early Morning!

 

It is difficult to point out that exact moment when a distant fuzzy bother starts prodding the Mind, like wanting to prise it open. Like the calm surface of water suddenly un-stilled by a driven wind dancing on its surface. The layers of unconsciousness starts melting rapidly, even as Mind starts to don consciousness.

 

And now it needs the tangible Body. It starts to transmit the contagion of action, bother and stress into the already tired, bothered and stressed Body. The Body struggles, yearning more of sleep, lusting for some more rest. But the Mind won’t stop. It continues to breach the receding sleep. Cutting off the Body’s entire sense of peace and relaxation.

 

The Body knows this struggle panning out at each dawn. The Body utterly wanting to wrest the sleep, and the Mind knowing that it needs, by hook or crook, the crutch of the Body.

 

The Body knows it has to submit unto the supremacy of the Mind, even when it desperately wishes delaying that moment. It almost cries out, and demands stillness and peace, till it has completely bathed in restful freshness, and banished the last of the strands of tiring-ness. The Mind but continues its relentless tapping into its every neuron and synapse, and in turn commanding and summoning the Body parts into action.

 

Under the constant prick of Mind, the Body pulls out of the bed in act of final surrender. Though it knows it is withering under the constant pressure of round the clock, unceasing, high pace activity demanded of it – at social, moral, physical levels.

 

It is dreading the approaching day, that will throw it into the chaos – its ride into the day’s’ enterprise, loatheful, despised enterprise of routine and non-routine, of more rote and bit of novelty.

 

The Body knows it just does not want to take more of this frenzy of daily chaos and another long long day, by whose end will leave it utterly spent, its vitality further ravaged. But the Mind won’t stop. It continues to unleash the illusion at the Body of unrelenting hope, and infinite energy, thus enticing it into constant action.

 

The helpless Body, tricked by its ‘own’, for now feels the illusionary gush of energy. It's mesmerised hearing ‘its a brand new day’, ‘rise and shine’, and some such delusionary but constantly repeated messages.

 

Guess the morning is finally here. The surrender of a tired Body, rudely awoken, is complete to the pillage by the Mind in the mesmerising name of possible accomplishment achievement and ambition.

 

Through the day, the Body slaves to each will, desire and instruction of the Mind.

 

And now when the day has ended, the Body is tired. Very tired. More tired than it ever was. It ever could be. But the Mind continues to be zestful. And filled with raw energy. It was a successful another day, exploiting the Body, accomplishing some more.

 

The Body knows, this struggle will continue. Each day! It has to surrender to the will of the Mind. Each day! But it also knows, that the Win will be eventually its. In its final shutdown! And then the Mind will not be able to shake it into any further action. That will be the final submission. Of the Mind. Unto the Body.

 

Till then, the Body dreams. To just survive. The living.



Cheers,

mg

net.mail.in@gmail.com

 

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

 

 

Happie Diwalie

Happie Diwalie! - Those 2 words uttered or heard a zillion times by us.

Beginning a few weeks before Diwali, the contagion of Happie Diwalie just hangs there in the air – along with the thick wintry smog. Ready to descend, and infect. It starts its climb down pretty innocuously. The early wave of Happie Diwalie-s are a music to the ear. They ring a magical mystique, like the enveloping winter around us. You start looking forward to the happiness of times, gifts (incoming, ofcourse), holidays and break from office (and boss!). Magical mood. Glitzy lighting. Inviting malls. Relaxing moments.

But what goes up comes down. The magic starts wearing off faster than next rocket to the Moon. And then it starts getting heavy, it starts getting tiring. And at times…it starts also getting awkward. Some phone calls are exclusively dedicated to Happie Diwalie you. After 20 seconds spent in enthusiastic happie-Diwalie-ing, discussion suddenly becomes awkward, not knowing where to meander. How to now navigate the conversation or worse, how to end it?!

I end up so Happie-Diwalie-ed, that my mind is going ‘Happie Diwalie’ deaf. Happie Diwalie is raining from all directions. This is much much more of happiness than I can handle in my life time.
 

And in the midst of all this, the Happie Diwalie contagion of a different type starts spreading, pretty rapidly at that – everyone and anyone seeing you hits you with that. So much so that soon you feel abused exploited or fleeced, sometimes all 3, all in the name of Happie Diwalie. Naturally my body now squirms at any sound waves that even remotely sound Happie Diwalie.

The contagion leads to Happie Diwalie starting to morph into a monetary currency, stronger than any other currency of the world. Now this Happie Diwali Monetary Union – HDMU – starts happening just before Diwali, and continues till 2-3 days post Diwali. Lets see some of the examples in action.
 

My building watchman is generally in a slumped, unattentive, i care not shape most of the time. But you see that the Diwali contagion is infecting him. This drowsy guy is suddenly all attentive, crisply attired. I am walking out of the building Gate, when he – out of nowhere – thrusts a military grade salute in my direction, with a large beaming smile. Happie Diwalie sir. Having now been Happie Diwalie-ed, I am supposed to read the subtext and dole out monetary welfare.

Then there is this whole army of your solid support ecosystem – cook, dhobi, driver, bai. In this wonderful eco-system, one unit of Happie Diwalie is equivalent to a certain salary (read: bonus). So you gotta be ready to be Happie Diwalie-d by each one of them, and in turn, must dish out its monetary equivalent.

Happie Diwalie bombs could unexpectedly land at you from unsuspecting quarters – from this denizens of ‘I-don’t-know-you-but-still-Happy-Diwali-to-you’ part. My misfortune, that I had to visit a friend in the nearby building. I crossed the path of the building security guy. I guess my body odour put his olfactories on fire. He immediately sensed Happie Diwalie contagion in the air. Happie Diwalie, sir, landed the bomb on me. And then his eyes clearly challenged me – ‘Happie Diwalie bola na. Ab toh nikalo’!. The undertone of expectation was louder than the Happie Diwalie itself.

The significance of Happie Diwalie-ing with certain set of people lies in just verbally belching it out as a tool of extortion. Emotions be damned! I mean, money has no emotions –right? Or color for that matter! My car wash guy lands up at my door this morning. He is generally a quiet poker faced character. In most unenthusiastic tone, he demands my car keys. Today was no different in that sense. The moment I opened the door, there he was, promptly Happie Diwalie-ing me. In his usual dry, wry and humourless tone. It was demanding, bordering on extortion. Yes boss, I understand. Happie Diwalie = your bonus. Amen!

I hear India’s economy has pre-dominantly become a Service economy. Believe me, Happie Diwalie has a sizzling future in this. Any service laced with Happie Diwalie is tinged with slightly better quality. Keeping the bagful of provisions in my car (vs dumped all the time), it was impossible to not be hit by Happie Diwalie contagion of the shop helper. I could arrest that contagion from infecting further only after a mini bakhsheesh.

I am convinced Happie Diwalie can add lot of zing to our financial and other systems. I expect following to emerge shortly:

• Service tax on each unit of Happie Diwalie. And so, why should Income Tax be left behind? However, if you can prove that you received less than 20 units of Happie Diwalie, you are entitled to tax relief (I mean you seem to ‘’Below Happie Diwalie Line’).
• New horns for vehicles are under testing for introduction next year, to be obtained via a live USB update. Once enabled, when you honk, it actually will say Happie Diwalie, followed by a simulated cracker burst. This is expected to directly help in reducing road rage incidents, by Happie Diwalie-ing everyone.
• Govt is working on a GHDP (Gross Happie Diwalie Product) metric, on the lines of GDP. GHDP is expected to more closely tell the health of economy, and is likely to become the pre-dominant indicator of economy’s health. Stock exchanges are likely to introduce derivatives and other products linked to GHDP.
• To celebrate the fact that Indians are one of the largest Facebook fan, Facebook is planning to introduce ‘Appy-Dwali’ buttons. No need to type. Happie Diwalie anyone by just a click. Anyone getting Happie Diwalie-ed 10,000 times or more, gets a dinner with Mrs and Mr Zuckerberg, and ‘Angry Happie Diwalie Birds’ pack free.
• Bhai calling to wish you Happie Diwalie!

Possibilities are immense.

By the way, did I tell you? Happie Diwalie!

Cheers,

Manish

net.mail.in@gmail.com

 

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

 

Silence. Action.

It’s a different day today! So different! I feel that in my pulse, and I feel that in the absence of the activity around me. As far as I see, there is a blue expanse of sky but that appears dull. The air around me seems still. I see few souls, scattered, few and far between. Some probably venturing out only because the task they have set out to do cannot be postponed. 

The stillness and ceasing can sometime signify liberation. But is this a feeling of liberation for me? My usual life is characterised by the constant hum of activity all around me. My psyche is deeply etched with seeing the constancy of action and motion, pivoted on me and around me. During all the sun lit hours, and most of the hours dark. Day after day, each day.

Today I am suddenly emptied of all the movement and sound, which defines my ambient silhouette. The void has descended on me all around. The high pitch action that goes around me un-stoppably has suddenly vanished. I have been stripped of the chaos, my arteries and veins emptied of the vitality. The inactivity around is deafening.

I am not used to seeing the fires of the industry in me ever put out or its intensity ever lowered, not for the highest and not for the mightiest, not for time and not for tide.

But today is a different day. I am shrouded in the silence of the mourning of my beloved for whom I was beloved. Let me mourn, and let me reminisce. I am not in hurry to go back to the routine. I wish to be still. Go through this catharsis. Heal my bruised spirit. But I know this is the transient me. For tomorrow, I have to stand back on my feet again. And I will. I can stop for a while, but I cannot sleep. For I have to carry the hopes, dreams and enterprise of my citizenry. Of the Alive and the Living. The motor of business will be re-kindled soon. For that is my nature. For that is just me – Mumbai.

 

 

[This article was written when Mumbai went silent, following death of Mr Balasaheb Thakeray.]

mg

net.mail.in@gmail.com

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

Les Elections US-Aroma of Rom-Ama

What is it about the US that makes us maha-curious and gets us all (or rather lots us of all) 'sit up back straight and take notice of it all'?

I had been 'closely' following the US elections. Nah, not at a psephological or diplomatic scale, but more as a curious guy. I was just trying to soak in everything that the election machinery was churning out, with a certain attachment to Obama. I followed the President - in a manner of speaking.

I watched his 1st Presidential debate (post facto) to understand why he turned out to be the loser that he was called, and thus also falling short on my very high expectations from him. And I watched the 3rd Presidential debate (almost live) when he made Romney look utterly out of leagues - a Romney who was thoroughly lectured on depleted quantities of 'bayonets and horses' in US defence apparatus.  And by the way, my resolve to watch the 2nd debate is still strong, but I guess not relevant anymore.

But let me be honest. Mumbai's commute times can force people to adopt such totally whacky and at times alien hobbies and interests  (imagine mentioning that in an interview -  hmm, Sir, i watch presidential debates in my free time).

My rising mania mimicked the rising swing of needle registering an evolving earthquake. I had to follow this election arm in arm with Rom-Ama. I was clued in as to when the election din would die, when would the ballot casting end, and when were the results likely to start puttering out. The election drama was like I am hooked onto the substance. I continued to inhale this drag, and it continued to rocket me high.

On my hour plus morning commute today, since I knew that results are likely to be headlined soon, unless Rom-Ama's fate would get tangled in the deathly painful 'too close to call' crap, I wanted to witness live the historical moment. Out came the iPad, gunning down on fibre optic paths at Mbps speed, and the screen lit up with live CNN IBN. I was totally adrenalized, watching the speedy 2 way slicing of 509 seats between Rom-Ama. The result was evolving at dramatic speed, and kept jumping sides to give it a nail biting finish. And suddenly, like a crescendo, it leaped beyond that winning 270 mark for Mr Obama. I guess, it came as swiftly as Sandy. Or may be Sandy brought that swiftly for Obama.

I can let you in on the secret that I am an Obama fan. And his renewed tenancy of White House for another 4 years brought a sense of personal joy, which was insane, inexplicable and irrational.  I mean, from his perspective, here I am. An ordinary mortal from a distant alien land, and yet feeling such juvenile joy. I guess, Dil Toh Bachha Hai Ji.

Madness continued on return commute. If it was his declaration of victory in the morning, in the evening, it was President's acceptance speech and the sight and sound drama that accompanies it. If it was Rajdeep Sardesai in the morning, it was Prannoy Roy in the evening.  The Family on a show, celebratory confetti descending like stars, adrenalised crowd, euphoric mood, and this alternately stirring and trance inducing oratory - I am like totally glued. Today is not the day to whine for and curse Mumbai roads.

My inexplicable sense of closely following Rom-Ama tour-de-election is vindicated when I flick on News channels. It's US and Rom-Ama and their election and their win and their loss all the way. Each channel had tried to out tie other by allying with leading US networks. There is even an insane claim of dashing to 'i declared the result 1st' finish line. On the shows are some serious heavy weights discussing seriously the weighty dimensions of India US relationship and the consequences and fall out of election and Obama's return - at micron level detailing. I lapped up most of it, though in the process edging out 'bade ache lagte hai' and earning wife glares.

I guess tomorrow will give me enough fodder to keep my this whacky passion going, and my Mbps blazing.

Cheers,

mg

net.mail.in@gmail.com

 

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.