...a slice of my experience with the dudes on the other part of the planet...
Click here for the first part of the two part series
"So, where do you work?" a married H1 hunk, originally from Vijayawada started the conversation, on the way back from a car rental company. He had hired a car for the weekend too, like us (my roommate and myself), and was getting dropped at the same venue as us, after returning the rental car.
I mentioned the place.
"Oh! That is a nice place. When did you come to the US?"
"Four months back," I said, "What about you?"
"Five years back," he said, and asked, "Which place in India are you from?"
"Bangalore."
"Oh! Bangalore??!!! Then you must be very intelligent."
Yahoooooooo!!! At least one person on this planet recognizes my worth ;-)
I was pretty much happy because he said that, but was puzzled about the criterion. What had Bangalore to do with my intelligence?
"Why do you say that?"
"You know... I tried for a lot of companies in Bangalore. I couldn't get a job anywhere. Hence, I had to come here," he said.
Heh heh..... my roomy and myself uttered a few embarrassing laughs.
"Bangalore has all intelligent professionals. Especially, now, I have heard that all top companies go to Bangalore. It is soaring to great heights. It has a very bright future," he said nostalgically.
As an afterthought, he added, "I want to go there after a while, but don't know .....depends on whether I get a job or not," he gave a toothy smile.
Ma'an. This guy was steeped in inferiority complex.
"Don't worry, the market has expanded greatly now. Everybody is getting recruited nowadays," said my roomy, to placate him. ;-)
Now, now. We all know that America is a rich country, with everyone moving around in swanky cars, and wearing leather jackets. The H1 hunks are ogled by all in the eastern part of the world to be carrying around a truckload of money.
But it takes sheer hard work to collect that truckload.
It takes a lot of will to turn down the Subway bread at restaurants, to save few dollars, when you are accustomed to hogging at ' The Forum' when back home.
It takes a lot of will to turn down the weekend night at the nightclub, to save a few dollars, when you are accustomed to partying in Purple Haze when back home.
It does take a lot of will to sustain the unwashed clothes for weeks, to save a few dollars at the Laundromat, when you are accustomed to the 'bai' washing your clothes everyday when back home.
Also, there have been some popular stories about the dudes wielding the scissors, and the comb to help each other with the haircuts, to abstain from those expensive visits to the hair saloons.
Hence, remember. That truckload of money is through sheer hard work, and not a result of hour long commuting to work, to write few lines of code, waiting for the 5 pm bell to ring as in 'back home'. :D
"Car, car, car, car, elnodi car" echoed the haunting voice over the screens in Bangalore sometime back.
Food, shelter, and clothing are very essential for humans, so is the car for the humans in the land of Uncle Sam.
Desi dudes who ventured into the land of opportunities without a four-wheelers' drivers license would feel devoid of all opportunities. Yes, they always had their friend's bike to borrow to that late night movie, or the pillion seat of an Activa for a weekend afternoon lunch with buddies. But here, there are no buses, no auto rickshaws.
No car. No life.
Hence, the rush to get an American Drivers' License.
I had to get one for myself too.
"Sir, you may want to come again," said the bearded examiner after he took my driver's license test.
Whaaaat???!!! Did that mean that I had failed the test???!!!
I guessed I had.
"Ok," I said.
FAILED!FAILED!FAILED! .... thoughts echoed in my mind. Despite an experience of having driven 40,000 kilometers back home??!!!
Unfortunately, the examiner did not care about my historically proven road skills, especially in the toughest conditions in the world.
Nope...not on the Himalayas.... but on Hosur road.
He had a systematic checklist of things, to be performed on the roads inside the compound of the drivers' license office. If one doesn't pass the minimum number of instructions, one fails!!!
I have to learn the rules properly next time, I made a mental note.
But there are dudes who prepare damn well for the test. After having learnt the rules, they use the Google Maps to get the layout of the roads, signals, parallel parking place, etc in the drivers' license office compound.
And that, my friends, is true dedication!!!
(By the way, he failed the first time too :D )
In my second driving test, the more patient of the examiners sat through my immaculate performance, and at the end spoke, "Where are you from?"
"Bangalore, India."
"Oh! I get a couple of people from Bangalore. If you have driven there, you can drive anywhere in the world I guess," he smiled.
Just as important as the car, is a phone. The small device is a lifeline for the dudes to maintain their sanity amidst the pressures of the alien world.
Nope... I don't mean the phone-dating network. Those dudes will lose their sanity anyway, when they meet up with their date.
I am speaking about the endless voice chats that begin... on dot at 9pm in the evening.
The reason for this strange phenomenon is that T Mobile and few other GSM service providers give out free minutes of airtime from 9 pm till 9am.
Hence, phones begin to ring all over the US, in all H1 dudes' phones at 9pm, almost simultaneously as though heralding the birth of Harry Potter.
The dudes update themselves with their friends' lives, from their rotten bosses to their latest vacations.
And the dudes who are busy for long distance calls, are busy calling up longer distances on the Reliance and other undersea cables.
The calls vary from few minutes of India update to hours of remote sorting out complex family issues.
But yes, most of the conversations definitely would carry 'Alli eiga time estu?' [ 'What time is it there?' ]
'Nine thirty,' says the dude.
'It is 11 here......alli nightaa [ is it night there] ?'
The dude smiles, with a 'yes'.
"Ond KG akki, moor KG sakkare, ardha KG bele (one kilogram rice, three kilograms of sugar, half kilograms of daal)," I remember in my childhood, mother giving her orders on the phone to the local grocery vendor, who would send across the items on the rear carrier of the Atlas cycle of his assistant boy. "Nikon digital camera, Sony handycam, 1 gb flash drive," I could hear the crackling voice on the speaker phone of my friend, his friends from India giving him a list of e-grocery to be bought, at his place when he announced that he would be going to India for vacation. The list went on for the next few minutes, as the talk proceeded from a few hundred dollars to a few thousands.
Also, there was a new niece, recently wed couples, and excited cousins, who all had to be satiated by a shower of special presents.
The 'India shopping' for the H1 dude is one of the most special occasions, and also a very tiring one. After booking deals in the various web sites, it is the time for the shopping at the 'Premium Outlets'. The brotherhood accompanies the dude to the plush factory outlets, where they shop till they drop. They shop like there is no tomorrow. They shop till their cars can muster up the last bit of space inside it.
They become the dream boys for all the shop owners, and also for the custom officers back home.
"Take a flight with port of entry as Bangalore, dude. Don't take Mumbai, you will be screwed," the advices pour in from the brotherhood.
The dude does that, but later mentions on phone that he still had to pay up 3000 rupees as bribe to the customs.
"Didn't you say that Bangalore was safe?" I asked the other H1 dude who had come up with this advice.
"You don't know the amount of stuff he carried back. If it leaks out that he escaped for just three thousand bucks, Dawood would hire him next," laughed the other dude aloud
From the excitement of watching trivial bollywood comedies on the local screens, and local potluck parties at friends' places to the anxieties of tumultuous news on rediff.com and burgeoning real estate prices back home, the H1 hunks celebrate India in their everyday lives on the other part of the lonely planet. The Toshibas, the IPODs, or the SONYs do provide temporary escape from the mundane of the lonely life, but nothing compares to an occasionally visit to India, which is looked upon by envy by all in the H1 brotherhood.
Yet, the H1 hunks perform with excellence in the large halls of the American corporate, with a dream to be able to do the same in India, sometime later.
Often misunderstood, sometimes looked at with wonder, and sometimes with skepticism, the H1 hunks take all of these in their stride.
With a warm smile, that says ' I get you budd, but we gotta hurry home. I have got a meal to cook'.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
H1 hunks
...a slice of my experience with the dudes on the other part of the planet...
"Actually, a bit of asafoetida after it starts to splatter would be great."
"But don't you think you should let it splatter for a while in oil, before putting asafoetida? I guess it will taste better then. Especially, if you have used dry chilli."
"Try my way. You will surely like it."
"Hmm, what about onions? Early or later?"
"Early would spoil the taste. Put it a bit later."
The conversation was excerpt from a Udaya TV serial, between two grannies??!!
No. NO!!!
The conversation was between two mid twenties dudes in the Patel's Groceries in Chicago, United States.
WHAT THE....
Yezz. The dudes were discussing cuisines.
Nope, not the hunks you see on Star Plus serials who visit Italian restaurants for a casual evening, stretch their legs on the Hawaiian beaches on weekends. These were real desi dudes, with real food problems, in an alien country, discussing about how to make their next meal better.
But don't you get everything in America?
Yes!!! You get everything in America. Drenched in cheese, with a few crumbs of what was moving around on four legs, sometime back.
But relax!!! You need not know cooking for going to the US. It is going to be like the first time you went to profess your love to that high school hottie.
"Hehehe," she laughed then? You forgot to put water below the steel container in the cooker here.
She turned and ran away then? Your curry appears like the one you see in the dilip kumar movies about jails.
But, surely you are lucky than the SLAP!!! The safety valve of the cooker shoots up like a missile!!!
Nooo!!! Class teacher called home then!!! You have a bonfire on the pan, and there is a fire alarm now!!! All those gorgeous females from the apartment gym had to run out of the building because of you??? Congratulations, your social life has just been reduced to less than zero.
But, fret not. There is a band of brothers to help you out. The H1 brotherhood never gives up on you. Away from home, they are your home. They are there for your parties, they are there for your fire alarms. They are there to rejoice when you finish the long distance, to announce that your niece is born. They are also there for support during those frustrating, home sick times.
"So, are you a veggie or a non veggie?" a friend once asked me, at a Mexican restaurant, with a group of buddies. He had been in the US for more than five years now, and still had been able to maintain his veggie status.
"I am a veggie by choice," I announced.
"Eh? By choice? Then what do you think about me? There is a fatwa on me to be a vegetarian??"
I let out a few guffaws. "No, I had been a non veggie for sometime. Didn't like it. Hence, switched back to veggie status," I smiled.
Complex answer for a simple question ?!!
He turned to another friend. "Veggie or Non veggie? I will have to give the orders now. Don't give a complex answer," he said. There was no need to explicitly quote my name, in the accusation.
"I am a vegetarian non-veggie," the other friend said.
"What?"
"I eat non-veg stuff, which usually would have had only vegetarian food," he smiled.
Talk about complex answers!!!
After having given all the orders, he fished out his sleek 'Discover' card to be elegantly swiped by the fat, short Mexican woman at the cash counter.
The credit card!!!
A matter of pride for the young professionals, fresh entrants to the US!!!
Yes, I know that a software professional in Bangalore would have half of his incoming calls from the attractive voices of sales girls of various credit cards. But in here, you need to possess a 'Credit History' to get a credit card.
The credit history is a record of all the credit transactions that you would have had since the day you entered the States. Based on the transactions, you would have a 'Credit Score', which represents your consistency in paying off your credits.
It is linked to your Social Security Number, a reference number.
The system seems very matured and sensible. Oh! Yeah??? Hear this out. One's credit score will not be built unless you borrow good amount of money, and pay it in time. Hence, for being a reliable person for the banks to lend, you need to borrow money heavily, and pay it back in turn. Go tell this to your grandma who had embedded in your middleclass gene, to stay away from loans.
But this is a vicious circle. You don't get a card till you have a credit history. You don't get a history till you have a card.
Wait. There's relief. :-)
The alternative is the 'Secured Credit Card'. You deposit an amount in the bank, based on which you get this credit card. Your credit limit would be equivalent to the amount you deposit. This is a work around to build your credit history.
After a decent score is built, suddenly you are showered with 'preapproved' credit cards from anybody who can print a plastic card. Everyday, you will find in your mailbox, the 'most attractive scheme in the world' from the 'most trusted bank in the US'. The same guys who avoided you like a leper before, would be ready to worship the ground you walked on. ;-)
"Enakkoru girlfriend venumada," screamed the speakers, with Rahman's drums hitting out at us from the Yamaha speakers that my friend had bought from a Chinese for a good deal. We were at our usual hangout at the Infy H1 boys' apartment.
The sitting room consisted of two 'super comfortable' couches, in which one could just sink in. The bachelor boys had purchased it at a throw away price of less than 20$ - 30$ each. Generally, the moving population in the apartments would go in for a 'moving sale'. One can get some real good deals in the sale. Sometimes, the moving population just gives things away, when they are not able to sell.
As the country lives on surpluses, anything that is a little old loses its resale value, irrespective of its quality.
A TV, and a DVD player adorned the corner of the room. Generally, the kitchens are furnished with an electric stove, an oven, and a dishwasher. And that is where the action happens. :D
The sitting room was taken over with the aroma of the exotic sambar prepared by one of my friends, a chef par excellence. All the other guys had their laptops on, connected to the high-speed cable Internet. One of them was just checking out his emails. The other was chatting with his friend in India over GTalk. Another was busy checking out news on deals2buy.com.
And suddenly, there was a thumping sound on the walls.
Wow!!! Screw the BOSE systems. These cheap Yamaha speakers were making the walls shake!!!
"Oh! Shit," blurted out the 'deals' guy and pounced on the speakers to bring down their volume.
"What happened?" I asked, not sure if the walls might actually come down, as they used to show on old BPL commercials during the Doordarshan times.
"The white guy on the other side is thumping on the wall, to reduce the volume," he said.
As the walls are made of wood, they are not entirely soundproof. Hence, these guys had to coexist with the subtler crowd living on the other side of the wall. "We will have to find another apartment soon. This guy is getting on our nerves," announced the chap. Err... I had thought that it was the other way.
After the dinner, we got down to watch a movie on one of the laptops. This was a Telugu movie downloaded from the Internet. The audience consisted of Kannada boys, Tamil dude, Mallus and Northies. How is that for National Integration???!!!
The world of Bachelors is divided into two. Those who have girlfriends, and those who don't. There is the third special category, an intersection set, who letch at others' girlfriends, but that is a complex scenario, which is beyond the scope of our conversation. :D
( Was never good at Set Theory..heh heh)
The H1 hunks without girlfriends, are pretty much predictable. They spend their life in cubicles all the time, or watching downloaded movies, or drowning their sorrows by traveling throughout the country.
The curiosity always lies with the H1 hunks with girlfriends. Or friends who are girls.
For those Indian dudes who haven't got the American visa stamped on their passports, nightlife of H1 dudes are seems like a dream. Easy alcohol, skimpily clad blond dudettes, in skintight blouses, and tighter mini skirts, nightclubs, blaring rock music, etc etc.
Yeah rite!!!
How about that dude who went onto date that frail H1 female, with spectacles, whose most exciting moment was when her debugger blurted out that her code had passed without errors, on the first go???
Well, he did have an option. Her friend was better looking, but was bigger than his two eyes could handle, due to all the melted cheese of the McDonald's that had melted down her throat. She was well built, but in wrong places.
And there are the ones who have their statuses as 'Committed' on Orkut, spending more than the Ambanis' investment on 'Reliance India Call' to call their beloveds back home. But yes, they do join us for the nightclubs on Sat nites :D
"Dude, I have a date with an ABCD [slang for American Born Indians]," said an excited friend one day.
"Green card fever, hunh?" I smiled.
"No da. Just checking her out," he winked.
"Where did you meet her?"
"Have not met her yet. There is this mutual friend, and he said he would want to me to meet up with her," the buddy, who never had the dare to talk to a girl more than a 'excuse me' back in India, was scaling mountains here. He was going on a blind date!!!
"And when she opens her mouth, talking like an American, you can hide under the table," I guffawed.
He did want to hide under the table when this mid twenties dude met up with the girl, who was in her mid thirties.
Blondes in tight skirts, eh??
Join me at this space on the morrow for some lines about jobs, sleek phones... and ofcourse... classy cars.
For the sequel for this write up, click here
"Actually, a bit of asafoetida after it starts to splatter would be great."
"But don't you think you should let it splatter for a while in oil, before putting asafoetida? I guess it will taste better then. Especially, if you have used dry chilli."
"Try my way. You will surely like it."
"Hmm, what about onions? Early or later?"
"Early would spoil the taste. Put it a bit later."
The conversation was excerpt from a Udaya TV serial, between two grannies??!!
No. NO!!!
The conversation was between two mid twenties dudes in the Patel's Groceries in Chicago, United States.
WHAT THE....
Yezz. The dudes were discussing cuisines.
Nope, not the hunks you see on Star Plus serials who visit Italian restaurants for a casual evening, stretch their legs on the Hawaiian beaches on weekends. These were real desi dudes, with real food problems, in an alien country, discussing about how to make their next meal better.
But don't you get everything in America?
Yes!!! You get everything in America. Drenched in cheese, with a few crumbs of what was moving around on four legs, sometime back.
But relax!!! You need not know cooking for going to the US. It is going to be like the first time you went to profess your love to that high school hottie.
"Hehehe," she laughed then? You forgot to put water below the steel container in the cooker here.
She turned and ran away then? Your curry appears like the one you see in the dilip kumar movies about jails.
But, surely you are lucky than the SLAP!!! The safety valve of the cooker shoots up like a missile!!!
Nooo!!! Class teacher called home then!!! You have a bonfire on the pan, and there is a fire alarm now!!! All those gorgeous females from the apartment gym had to run out of the building because of you??? Congratulations, your social life has just been reduced to less than zero.
But, fret not. There is a band of brothers to help you out. The H1 brotherhood never gives up on you. Away from home, they are your home. They are there for your parties, they are there for your fire alarms. They are there to rejoice when you finish the long distance, to announce that your niece is born. They are also there for support during those frustrating, home sick times.
"So, are you a veggie or a non veggie?" a friend once asked me, at a Mexican restaurant, with a group of buddies. He had been in the US for more than five years now, and still had been able to maintain his veggie status.
"I am a veggie by choice," I announced.
"Eh? By choice? Then what do you think about me? There is a fatwa on me to be a vegetarian??"
I let out a few guffaws. "No, I had been a non veggie for sometime. Didn't like it. Hence, switched back to veggie status," I smiled.
Complex answer for a simple question ?!!
He turned to another friend. "Veggie or Non veggie? I will have to give the orders now. Don't give a complex answer," he said. There was no need to explicitly quote my name, in the accusation.
"I am a vegetarian non-veggie," the other friend said.
"What?"
"I eat non-veg stuff, which usually would have had only vegetarian food," he smiled.
Talk about complex answers!!!
After having given all the orders, he fished out his sleek 'Discover' card to be elegantly swiped by the fat, short Mexican woman at the cash counter.
The credit card!!!
A matter of pride for the young professionals, fresh entrants to the US!!!
Yes, I know that a software professional in Bangalore would have half of his incoming calls from the attractive voices of sales girls of various credit cards. But in here, you need to possess a 'Credit History' to get a credit card.
The credit history is a record of all the credit transactions that you would have had since the day you entered the States. Based on the transactions, you would have a 'Credit Score', which represents your consistency in paying off your credits.
It is linked to your Social Security Number, a reference number.
The system seems very matured and sensible. Oh! Yeah??? Hear this out. One's credit score will not be built unless you borrow good amount of money, and pay it in time. Hence, for being a reliable person for the banks to lend, you need to borrow money heavily, and pay it back in turn. Go tell this to your grandma who had embedded in your middleclass gene, to stay away from loans.
But this is a vicious circle. You don't get a card till you have a credit history. You don't get a history till you have a card.
Wait. There's relief. :-)
The alternative is the 'Secured Credit Card'. You deposit an amount in the bank, based on which you get this credit card. Your credit limit would be equivalent to the amount you deposit. This is a work around to build your credit history.
After a decent score is built, suddenly you are showered with 'preapproved' credit cards from anybody who can print a plastic card. Everyday, you will find in your mailbox, the 'most attractive scheme in the world' from the 'most trusted bank in the US'. The same guys who avoided you like a leper before, would be ready to worship the ground you walked on. ;-)
"Enakkoru girlfriend venumada," screamed the speakers, with Rahman's drums hitting out at us from the Yamaha speakers that my friend had bought from a Chinese for a good deal. We were at our usual hangout at the Infy H1 boys' apartment.
The sitting room consisted of two 'super comfortable' couches, in which one could just sink in. The bachelor boys had purchased it at a throw away price of less than 20$ - 30$ each. Generally, the moving population in the apartments would go in for a 'moving sale'. One can get some real good deals in the sale. Sometimes, the moving population just gives things away, when they are not able to sell.
As the country lives on surpluses, anything that is a little old loses its resale value, irrespective of its quality.
A TV, and a DVD player adorned the corner of the room. Generally, the kitchens are furnished with an electric stove, an oven, and a dishwasher. And that is where the action happens. :D
The sitting room was taken over with the aroma of the exotic sambar prepared by one of my friends, a chef par excellence. All the other guys had their laptops on, connected to the high-speed cable Internet. One of them was just checking out his emails. The other was chatting with his friend in India over GTalk. Another was busy checking out news on deals2buy.com.
And suddenly, there was a thumping sound on the walls.
Wow!!! Screw the BOSE systems. These cheap Yamaha speakers were making the walls shake!!!
"Oh! Shit," blurted out the 'deals' guy and pounced on the speakers to bring down their volume.
"What happened?" I asked, not sure if the walls might actually come down, as they used to show on old BPL commercials during the Doordarshan times.
"The white guy on the other side is thumping on the wall, to reduce the volume," he said.
As the walls are made of wood, they are not entirely soundproof. Hence, these guys had to coexist with the subtler crowd living on the other side of the wall. "We will have to find another apartment soon. This guy is getting on our nerves," announced the chap. Err... I had thought that it was the other way.
After the dinner, we got down to watch a movie on one of the laptops. This was a Telugu movie downloaded from the Internet. The audience consisted of Kannada boys, Tamil dude, Mallus and Northies. How is that for National Integration???!!!
The world of Bachelors is divided into two. Those who have girlfriends, and those who don't. There is the third special category, an intersection set, who letch at others' girlfriends, but that is a complex scenario, which is beyond the scope of our conversation. :D
( Was never good at Set Theory..heh heh)
The H1 hunks without girlfriends, are pretty much predictable. They spend their life in cubicles all the time, or watching downloaded movies, or drowning their sorrows by traveling throughout the country.
The curiosity always lies with the H1 hunks with girlfriends. Or friends who are girls.
For those Indian dudes who haven't got the American visa stamped on their passports, nightlife of H1 dudes are seems like a dream. Easy alcohol, skimpily clad blond dudettes, in skintight blouses, and tighter mini skirts, nightclubs, blaring rock music, etc etc.
Yeah rite!!!
How about that dude who went onto date that frail H1 female, with spectacles, whose most exciting moment was when her debugger blurted out that her code had passed without errors, on the first go???
Well, he did have an option. Her friend was better looking, but was bigger than his two eyes could handle, due to all the melted cheese of the McDonald's that had melted down her throat. She was well built, but in wrong places.
And there are the ones who have their statuses as 'Committed' on Orkut, spending more than the Ambanis' investment on 'Reliance India Call' to call their beloveds back home. But yes, they do join us for the nightclubs on Sat nites :D
"Dude, I have a date with an ABCD [slang for American Born Indians]," said an excited friend one day.
"Green card fever, hunh?" I smiled.
"No da. Just checking her out," he winked.
"Where did you meet her?"
"Have not met her yet. There is this mutual friend, and he said he would want to me to meet up with her," the buddy, who never had the dare to talk to a girl more than a 'excuse me' back in India, was scaling mountains here. He was going on a blind date!!!
"And when she opens her mouth, talking like an American, you can hide under the table," I guffawed.
He did want to hide under the table when this mid twenties dude met up with the girl, who was in her mid thirties.
Blondes in tight skirts, eh??
Join me at this space on the morrow for some lines about jobs, sleek phones... and ofcourse... classy cars.
For the sequel for this write up, click here
Monday, July 24, 2006
Cyanide....a commendable effort in Kannada cinema
"Sivarasan may use any of these aliases, Raghuvaran, Raghuppa, Raja..." the lady in the Kannada Doordarshan news was blurting out the twenty aliases of Sivarasan on the TV, in the summer of 1991. The country had been shaken violently, by the gruesome assassination of the ex-Premier of India. The Deccan Herald of those days didn't carry any other news but the police news about the massive manhunt for the elusive team of LTTE, which had consummated the horror. The country was in gloom, the citizens were in a state of shock, and the police stood ridiculed.
And when the man hunt ended after those days of turmoil, the assassins were dead. But the details flashed in the dailies, on the militant group, the assassins, and the movement gave me a different picture than the initial one of a group of fanatics out to conquer the world.
But, how could the Karnataka police, never known for its efficiency or valor, capture one of the most intelligent assassins the world has ever seen?
This question lingered in my mind.
The 'Cyanide' movie cleared it.
The slick camera work, the very good clarity of the film used (believe me, this matters a lot), the near perfect performances by the artistes (they are supposedly theatre artists), taut script, and good work at the editing table, all make this effort a treat to watch.
There is not much of a story, but for what already has been published in news papers, and many other books that followed the assassination. But, the skill of the director lies exactly in this. He has not ventured into the history of the LTTE movement, or the background of the assassination team members. An occasional mention of the background is included to make the conversation flow natural. The director has not glamorized any characters, or their principles.
They have their point of view. That point of view does not hold good in this country. Hence, no matter whether they are right or wrong universally, they are wrong in this country, and hence will be punished in this country.
Cutting the crap, the narration sticks to the core.
The dialogues are impressively natural.
"How did you come to Bangalore?" Ranganath , a Bangalore local forced to help the team, asks Shubha, a team member.
She doesn't respond. She is busy nibbling on a fruit.
"How did you come to Bangalore?" he asks again.
"On a chemical tanker. Generally, the police don't venture to look at its content, as it is very smelly," she answers
"How did you sit inside it?"
"Cleaned it for three days. We put some holes in the wall of the tank, for breathing. Me and Master (Shivarasan) sat inside and played chess," she says.
"How will you play chess in the tanker? Won't the pawns fall off?" asks Ranganath.
"It is magnetic," she answers.
The performances by the ace artistes are impeccable. There is not a scene where the audience is embarrassed due to over acting. The professionals do not disappoint, and deliver without a flaw.
Technical limitations only occur in the form of the shoot out scenes between LTTE and the Srilankan army. The action scenes could have been more polished, and could be made more realistic than the usage of diwali crackers for bullet hits.
The narration style is journalistic in nature. It does not take parties, or state point of views. It just states the facts, and gets out.
For the audience who is fed up with bland love stories amidst terrorist back drop (Dil Se), and confusing point of views (Fiza) this is a refreshing change, where you are given what you came for....
'What actually happened.'
Short movie, tight movie.
A treat to watch.
And when the man hunt ended after those days of turmoil, the assassins were dead. But the details flashed in the dailies, on the militant group, the assassins, and the movement gave me a different picture than the initial one of a group of fanatics out to conquer the world.
But, how could the Karnataka police, never known for its efficiency or valor, capture one of the most intelligent assassins the world has ever seen?
This question lingered in my mind.
The 'Cyanide' movie cleared it.
The slick camera work, the very good clarity of the film used (believe me, this matters a lot), the near perfect performances by the artistes (they are supposedly theatre artists), taut script, and good work at the editing table, all make this effort a treat to watch.
There is not much of a story, but for what already has been published in news papers, and many other books that followed the assassination. But, the skill of the director lies exactly in this. He has not ventured into the history of the LTTE movement, or the background of the assassination team members. An occasional mention of the background is included to make the conversation flow natural. The director has not glamorized any characters, or their principles.
They have their point of view. That point of view does not hold good in this country. Hence, no matter whether they are right or wrong universally, they are wrong in this country, and hence will be punished in this country.
Cutting the crap, the narration sticks to the core.
The dialogues are impressively natural.
"How did you come to Bangalore?" Ranganath , a Bangalore local forced to help the team, asks Shubha, a team member.
She doesn't respond. She is busy nibbling on a fruit.
"How did you come to Bangalore?" he asks again.
"On a chemical tanker. Generally, the police don't venture to look at its content, as it is very smelly," she answers
"How did you sit inside it?"
"Cleaned it for three days. We put some holes in the wall of the tank, for breathing. Me and Master (Shivarasan) sat inside and played chess," she says.
"How will you play chess in the tanker? Won't the pawns fall off?" asks Ranganath.
"It is magnetic," she answers.
The performances by the ace artistes are impeccable. There is not a scene where the audience is embarrassed due to over acting. The professionals do not disappoint, and deliver without a flaw.
Technical limitations only occur in the form of the shoot out scenes between LTTE and the Srilankan army. The action scenes could have been more polished, and could be made more realistic than the usage of diwali crackers for bullet hits.
The narration style is journalistic in nature. It does not take parties, or state point of views. It just states the facts, and gets out.
For the audience who is fed up with bland love stories amidst terrorist back drop (Dil Se), and confusing point of views (Fiza) this is a refreshing change, where you are given what you came for....
'What actually happened.'
Short movie, tight movie.
A treat to watch.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
late review of Digital Fortress by Dan Brown
Oh! The old man broke his spectacles in the city bus when he was pushed by that obese woman. Why did the woman push the old man? Because her slipper broke, and she slipped. Why did the slipper break? Because the cobbler hadn't fixed it correctly, the last time. Why didn't the cobbler fix it well? Because he was not in a good mood, after having a lousy meal. Why did he have a lousy meal? The rice that his wife had prepared, was bad.
Why was the rice bad?
The fertilizer used by the farmer was of a bad quality.
Why was the fertilizer of a bad quality?
The fertilizer factory had a defective machine...
and on...and on... and on....
This is the similar way in which Dan Brown's novel Digital Fortress goes about cracking the complex codes in the NSA, a premier Government security organization of the United States.
Believe me, this is how the climax passes you by, getting on your nerves.
The build up to the climax is equally painful.
A university language professor with no experience is sent on a mission to Spain, by the NSA boss.
His nubile girlfriend is the top cryptologist in the NSA, who is called by the same boss on the same day, a weekend, on an important mission.
And there's a 'Translator', a super computer in the NSA with 3 million silicon chips working in parallel to break complex codes of encrypted messages floating all over the internet. There is no code that the 'Translator' could not break within a few hours atmost. But, this time, it had met its match. It has been working on a code for 15 hours, and still had not been able to break it. And it needs to be broken at any cost.
This encrypted software is called the Digital Fortress, something that cannot be broken through.
To break the code, one needs a pass key, consisting of a series of alpha numeric. And this is engraved on a ring, worn by dying Japanese scientist in Spain, who gives it away to a German tourist before dying.
As Becker, the university professor, hunts for the ring, he is being hunted by an assassin.
To add, there is chaos in the NSA with 'Translator' in deep trouble by the unbreakable code, cryptologists losing their cool and fighting against each other, and of course a traitor.
The few pages of history of cryptology, and various incidents related to it, in the beginning of the novel, though mere 'Wikipedia knowledge', are interesting to surf through.
Some of the scenes of the hunt for the ring by the university professor are charming. Dan Brown takes you right there to Spain, moving along with the professor, trying to make sense out of the puzzle that he is in. Narration zips around interesting people, and strange locations.
But the alternative scenes in the NSA make you atone for the bit of pleasure that you would have grabbed in the earlier scenes, with flat conversations, and predictable tumults, moving at a snail's pace, without any particular direction.
The characters are etched terribly, though there is a feeble attempt to build them.
If the 'Da Vinci' code stunned you with revelations, the 'Deception Point' with it great locations and heart catching experiences, the 'Angels and Demons' with its pace, you would be let down by this novel, as this has nothing to offer but for a peek into the NSA, and cryptology.
Pages and pages of banal display of technological blabber. It is not exciting for the junta drenched in software as they are reading the book looking out for a break from that. It is not exiting for the non-software junta, who are not able to make out whatz the big deal about???
To top it all, there is a climax, dragged totally out of proportion. It seems as though Dan Brown was inspired by the Bollywood flicks, and a bad one at that.
Pick up this book if you have curiosity about where Brown can go wrong (if you have not, already). But, I beg of you, please toss it aside after the first hundred pages.
with warm regards,
Thejas
(ps: Whew!!! It is a relief to spit out all the venom. Presently reading 'LOC' by Tom Clancy.... hope it turns out to be better ;-) )
Why was the rice bad?
The fertilizer used by the farmer was of a bad quality.
Why was the fertilizer of a bad quality?
The fertilizer factory had a defective machine...
and on...and on... and on....
This is the similar way in which Dan Brown's novel Digital Fortress goes about cracking the complex codes in the NSA, a premier Government security organization of the United States.
Believe me, this is how the climax passes you by, getting on your nerves.
The build up to the climax is equally painful.
A university language professor with no experience is sent on a mission to Spain, by the NSA boss.
His nubile girlfriend is the top cryptologist in the NSA, who is called by the same boss on the same day, a weekend, on an important mission.
And there's a 'Translator', a super computer in the NSA with 3 million silicon chips working in parallel to break complex codes of encrypted messages floating all over the internet. There is no code that the 'Translator' could not break within a few hours atmost. But, this time, it had met its match. It has been working on a code for 15 hours, and still had not been able to break it. And it needs to be broken at any cost.
This encrypted software is called the Digital Fortress, something that cannot be broken through.
To break the code, one needs a pass key, consisting of a series of alpha numeric. And this is engraved on a ring, worn by dying Japanese scientist in Spain, who gives it away to a German tourist before dying.
As Becker, the university professor, hunts for the ring, he is being hunted by an assassin.
To add, there is chaos in the NSA with 'Translator' in deep trouble by the unbreakable code, cryptologists losing their cool and fighting against each other, and of course a traitor.
The few pages of history of cryptology, and various incidents related to it, in the beginning of the novel, though mere 'Wikipedia knowledge', are interesting to surf through.
Some of the scenes of the hunt for the ring by the university professor are charming. Dan Brown takes you right there to Spain, moving along with the professor, trying to make sense out of the puzzle that he is in. Narration zips around interesting people, and strange locations.
But the alternative scenes in the NSA make you atone for the bit of pleasure that you would have grabbed in the earlier scenes, with flat conversations, and predictable tumults, moving at a snail's pace, without any particular direction.
The characters are etched terribly, though there is a feeble attempt to build them.
If the 'Da Vinci' code stunned you with revelations, the 'Deception Point' with it great locations and heart catching experiences, the 'Angels and Demons' with its pace, you would be let down by this novel, as this has nothing to offer but for a peek into the NSA, and cryptology.
Pages and pages of banal display of technological blabber. It is not exciting for the junta drenched in software as they are reading the book looking out for a break from that. It is not exiting for the non-software junta, who are not able to make out whatz the big deal about???
To top it all, there is a climax, dragged totally out of proportion. It seems as though Dan Brown was inspired by the Bollywood flicks, and a bad one at that.
Pick up this book if you have curiosity about where Brown can go wrong (if you have not, already). But, I beg of you, please toss it aside after the first hundred pages.
with warm regards,
Thejas
(ps: Whew!!! It is a relief to spit out all the venom. Presently reading 'LOC' by Tom Clancy.... hope it turns out to be better ;-) )
Monday, July 17, 2006
Monday, July 10, 2006
and about Krrish...
The droplet of my sweat is sliding the side locks onto the one day old beard, getting lost amidst the stubble, not strong enough to continue its way down to the cliff of the jaw, and dive down. The heat of the Bangalore's afternoon, the blaring 'tari kere' Kannada song over the fm, and a bored driver of my office cab, waiting for the next pick up to arrive.....
What did I do on the weekend???
Other than Krrish.....
Ah! Krrish. The rediff gave it a good review.
Junta had mixed reviews about it. Some hailed it as the incredible movie ever. Some mentioned that 'it definitely was not boring at any point'. Some termed it 'you can sit
thro it'.
The movie is definitely not boring, but a disappointment. Despite Hritik vociferously putting it across in all his interviews, that the movie is not a superhero movie but a foundation for one, the trailers flashed before an excited crowd before screenings of 'Rangde Basanti', six months back, had stamped on my memory of a black attired masked, a 'bat-man' look-alike.
How could one imagine that this movie is more a love story with some great locations, and choreography than the superhero antics???
Story,
Mr Muscleman is brought up in a village, by his granny Rekha. He runs faster than his horse, and climbs faster than your ancestors.
Miss 'Do I look hot' comes to the village on an 'adventure' camp, wearing designers most of the times.
She has one helluva 'adventure' with the mountain of muscles.
She goes back to Singapore.
He follows her.
Oops, I forgot to mention that the gullible granny made the 'to-be-superhero' to promise that he won't display his talents in Singapore (like all those gullible parents of 'onsite'
dudes' who would have made their offspring promise ' no drinking, no cigarettes, no stripclubs' ).
Krishna (err...that is his name, incase not mentioned earlier) is always found in formal wear.
But, an opportunity occurs in the guise of a martial arts chap, performing on the streets for collecting money for his sister's operation, hurting himself during street performance. (Yes, the same pathetic 'sister operation' pretext but with a new highrise background of Singapore). Mr 'martial-arts-trained-for-40-days' jumps at the chance, and twists, turns, weilds the lance with such finesse, that Bruce Lee smiles like god Ishwara of Kannada movies, from heavens above. (No, the Bruce Lee part is my imagination...heh heh).
There are few more occasions where he saves kids from a burning circus, and other good stuff.
Suddenly, he realizes that his father (Rohit, of 'Koi Mil Gaya' fame) is not dead, as he was told by his granny. He is held captive by a crazy villain Naseeruddin Shah.
A predictable set of fights and ups-and-downs-in-love later, Krrish ends.
Thatz it.
What didja expect???
Musing later,
The movie is worth a watch, even for the miniscule portion of the superhero stuff dished out. Hritik Roshan is AWESOME as a superhero. He is the best superhero I have seen. He looks perfect, acts perfect, and performs perfect as a superhero.
The chap has loads of talent, and has perfected them with more tons of practice.
His hard work shows. The ripping muscles (the well defined chest is the latest addition), the flexi moves, and the grace is very impressive. His martial art moves are more credible and graceful than the champs in the Chinese movies.
The superhero scenes match international standards. Almost flawless, they are big on the canvas, and glamorous. They are worth every penny you pay for the ticket (ofcourse, if you haven't bought the tickets in black...heh heh).
But the movie is slows down in some of the scenes. The dialogues are flat, and there is literally no story.
The characters are not credible. Well, actually, the characters are not given any time to establish themselves.
All the screen time is hounded by the predictable, bland love story between the dude and the dudette.
The music is good, and the picturisation of the song sequences are excellent (though I believe that computer graphics has a lot to do with the creation of the excellent locales of India, too).
Overall, there are a lot of things to bitch about, for a critic. But, the movie is good. A landmark achievement by an Indian film maker.
Worth watching once, out of curiosity.
And then...... don't discuss it... unless....... you are stuck in traffic on a hot afternoon, with the droplet of your sweat sliding the side locks onto the one day old beard..... :D
What did I do on the weekend???
Other than Krrish.....
Ah! Krrish. The rediff gave it a good review.
Junta had mixed reviews about it. Some hailed it as the incredible movie ever. Some mentioned that 'it definitely was not boring at any point'. Some termed it 'you can sit
thro it'.
The movie is definitely not boring, but a disappointment. Despite Hritik vociferously putting it across in all his interviews, that the movie is not a superhero movie but a foundation for one, the trailers flashed before an excited crowd before screenings of 'Rangde Basanti', six months back, had stamped on my memory of a black attired masked, a 'bat-man' look-alike.
How could one imagine that this movie is more a love story with some great locations, and choreography than the superhero antics???
Story,
Mr Muscleman is brought up in a village, by his granny Rekha. He runs faster than his horse, and climbs faster than your ancestors.
Miss 'Do I look hot' comes to the village on an 'adventure' camp, wearing designers most of the times.
She has one helluva 'adventure' with the mountain of muscles.
She goes back to Singapore.
He follows her.
Oops, I forgot to mention that the gullible granny made the 'to-be-superhero' to promise that he won't display his talents in Singapore (like all those gullible parents of 'onsite'
dudes' who would have made their offspring promise ' no drinking, no cigarettes, no stripclubs' ).
Krishna (err...that is his name, incase not mentioned earlier) is always found in formal wear.
But, an opportunity occurs in the guise of a martial arts chap, performing on the streets for collecting money for his sister's operation, hurting himself during street performance. (Yes, the same pathetic 'sister operation' pretext but with a new highrise background of Singapore). Mr 'martial-arts-trained-for-40-days' jumps at the chance, and twists, turns, weilds the lance with such finesse, that Bruce Lee smiles like god Ishwara of Kannada movies, from heavens above. (No, the Bruce Lee part is my imagination...heh heh).
There are few more occasions where he saves kids from a burning circus, and other good stuff.
Suddenly, he realizes that his father (Rohit, of 'Koi Mil Gaya' fame) is not dead, as he was told by his granny. He is held captive by a crazy villain Naseeruddin Shah.
A predictable set of fights and ups-and-downs-in-love later, Krrish ends.
Thatz it.
What didja expect???
Musing later,
The movie is worth a watch, even for the miniscule portion of the superhero stuff dished out. Hritik Roshan is AWESOME as a superhero. He is the best superhero I have seen. He looks perfect, acts perfect, and performs perfect as a superhero.
The chap has loads of talent, and has perfected them with more tons of practice.
His hard work shows. The ripping muscles (the well defined chest is the latest addition), the flexi moves, and the grace is very impressive. His martial art moves are more credible and graceful than the champs in the Chinese movies.
The superhero scenes match international standards. Almost flawless, they are big on the canvas, and glamorous. They are worth every penny you pay for the ticket (ofcourse, if you haven't bought the tickets in black...heh heh).
But the movie is slows down in some of the scenes. The dialogues are flat, and there is literally no story.
The characters are not credible. Well, actually, the characters are not given any time to establish themselves.
All the screen time is hounded by the predictable, bland love story between the dude and the dudette.
The music is good, and the picturisation of the song sequences are excellent (though I believe that computer graphics has a lot to do with the creation of the excellent locales of India, too).
Overall, there are a lot of things to bitch about, for a critic. But, the movie is good. A landmark achievement by an Indian film maker.
Worth watching once, out of curiosity.
And then...... don't discuss it... unless....... you are stuck in traffic on a hot afternoon, with the droplet of your sweat sliding the side locks onto the one day old beard..... :D
Monday, July 03, 2006
Weekend pictures
...had been to Hebbal Lake (Bangalore) on Saturday morning.... here are some of the pictures... :-)
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Review of 'The Girl Next Door'
Ah! It is the time again, for that all time fantasy of every teenage dude. A stunning beautiful lass (Elisha Cuthbert) walks into the next door, as the new neighbor. The geek dude (Emile Hirsch) letches at her unclothed contours while she is changing (I really am not able to guess, why these damsels change their clothes with open windows, and bright lights. No such luck for me, ever.)
The girl sees the dude watching her. She walks into his house, talks to his parents.
But, not about the geek dude watching her unclothed. She says that she just wanna talk to him.
She takes him out for a drive. Asks him to strip on the road, as she wants to watch him.
She leaves him in the cold, naked, on the road, and drives back.
Yeah, predictably, this is the beginning of their long-standing relationship. The girl is too good to be true. She is smart, she is funny, and she is drop dead gorgeous. She drives a swanky car, and is at his college to pick him up from the classes.
And when they kiss, they can melt concrete.
Also, the dude is working to win a scholarship to the Georgetown University, the gateway to realizing all his dreams.
Everything seems perfect.
Well, here's the glitch. The stunning dame is a porn star. And she has a toughie as an agent, who is ready to turn the geek dude into a punching bag, if need be.
There are other super contenders for the scholarship to Georgetown University, and it is a tough one for the geek dude to sell himself to the board for the scholarship.
And the fund that he had raised to get a foreign exchange student, from Cambodia to the US, is stolen. And he is being blamed for that.
Running from the police, running from the thugs, and running more to get the love of his life, the geek dude will do anything to prevent her from being driven out of his life. That includes starring in a porn movie himself.
The story is sketchy. The script is wayward. The jokes are flat.
But this comedy makes up for everything by having the stunning damsel as the heroine, who is more 'cute' than 'hot'. Though you would always wonder about how such a ‘cute’ girl could end up as a porn star, you would definitely appreciate the director’s efforts in showing her as the confused girl in the wrong industry, who giggles innocently, and holds hands with dreams in her eyes. Though not a commendable effort from Elisha to play the complex role of a girl in dilemma, she is a charm to watch because of her innocent appearance.
The director successfully makes a romantic comedy out of a story which could have been made on the lines of the darker 'Striptease'.
Yes, there are a lot of questions, and there always are.
But, wanna have an afternoon of simple fun??? Rent a DVD of this movie.
The girl sees the dude watching her. She walks into his house, talks to his parents.
But, not about the geek dude watching her unclothed. She says that she just wanna talk to him.
She takes him out for a drive. Asks him to strip on the road, as she wants to watch him.
She leaves him in the cold, naked, on the road, and drives back.
Yeah, predictably, this is the beginning of their long-standing relationship. The girl is too good to be true. She is smart, she is funny, and she is drop dead gorgeous. She drives a swanky car, and is at his college to pick him up from the classes.
And when they kiss, they can melt concrete.
Also, the dude is working to win a scholarship to the Georgetown University, the gateway to realizing all his dreams.
Everything seems perfect.
Well, here's the glitch. The stunning dame is a porn star. And she has a toughie as an agent, who is ready to turn the geek dude into a punching bag, if need be.
There are other super contenders for the scholarship to Georgetown University, and it is a tough one for the geek dude to sell himself to the board for the scholarship.
And the fund that he had raised to get a foreign exchange student, from Cambodia to the US, is stolen. And he is being blamed for that.
Running from the police, running from the thugs, and running more to get the love of his life, the geek dude will do anything to prevent her from being driven out of his life. That includes starring in a porn movie himself.
The story is sketchy. The script is wayward. The jokes are flat.
But this comedy makes up for everything by having the stunning damsel as the heroine, who is more 'cute' than 'hot'. Though you would always wonder about how such a ‘cute’ girl could end up as a porn star, you would definitely appreciate the director’s efforts in showing her as the confused girl in the wrong industry, who giggles innocently, and holds hands with dreams in her eyes. Though not a commendable effort from Elisha to play the complex role of a girl in dilemma, she is a charm to watch because of her innocent appearance.
The director successfully makes a romantic comedy out of a story which could have been made on the lines of the darker 'Striptease'.
Yes, there are a lot of questions, and there always are.
But, wanna have an afternoon of simple fun??? Rent a DVD of this movie.
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