Rendezvous with my blog

Hello There! Been a shocker to see my blog in existence. It always tempts you to write, doesn't it? A ravenous affair, I should mutter. Well, I am close to packing my bags in one of the IT majors that has been housing me for the past, well, a magnanimous 2 years. Tut, tut, nothing to do with my performance (love that Disney like imagination of yours!). My propensity lies elsewhere, and the brace reinforced the veracity of the same. Barring the fact that there is nothing much to hunt in a services major, I have been successful in adding a certain biological/chemical/metabolic value to my being: my weight. As I walk out in a few days, there is a certain pride and a definite sense of achievement that I can truly carry forward.

I: Why?

Me: Of course yes!

Myself: No way!

And so, repeated iterations of the above sample conversation have fostered direction in my case, as I map Genesis II - Re-beginning. The dialogue was tortuous, albeit establishing a vantage point. All angels & demons, gods & spirits, the dead and the living dead have walked out from my life, sore with my constant coquetry with atheism. Do I stand on the verge of life?

Dark nights
A rainy day it was,
Wading thro’ flooded streets,
The good roads non existent,
A dark night it was going to be.

Walking with my classmates,
Amusing an unusual phenomenon,
The heavy rains, I meant.
I nudged alongside my mates,
Holding on to deserted crates,
God bless them,
For I had seen road at ten.

My happiness exits as soon as it enters,
The trains cancelled; an expected matter,
I stranded amidst muddy pools and waters.

Off I went, with little money to be spent,
To catch the bus in the rush,
Hush! Hush! Hush!
I am wading thro’ the waters again.

The lightning strikes,
As I cross some parked bikes,
Scan at people walking and trotting,
Across the other end of the rotting road.

It was there I saw,
Beneath the beautiful sky,
Above the sacred earth,
A flash in my mind,
A beautiful girl,
Set my heart on fire,
The wind, a smooth zephyr,
Drowned me in the elemental ether.

The beautiful girl,
Was one I had seen,
But not been, and a chill passed up my spleen.

Ripples in my heart,
Feeling blood flow thro’ the body,
I fell from grace,
I felt human again.
Some guts I garnered,
And bits of speech I bantered,
But her beauty amidst the dark night,
Reminded me of the Arabian nights,
And Chinese kites.

She was a fairy tale,
Looking gorgeous and hale,
A surreal energy accompanying me,
But words deserting me,
Felt numb down the knee.

The mystery of the life,
The mystery of the universe,
The mystery of the creator,
The mystery of love,
The mystery of death,
Time stood still.
The heaven’s opened up,
I fell in love.

And then, there was light!

The new year's passed by. I was sleepy when the first rays of 2008 greeted me. I, for a moment could see the entire of 2007 pass in a flicker. Issues, that rocked me and were rocking were aplenty. I guess I had let the entire year pass by, and had not any specifics tattooed to my inner self. Well, specifics not on terms of mere credentials, but they add that minimal meaning to the purpose of our existence. Joining Infosys being the high point of the year, and that point being partly aided by the fact that my joining date coincided with the unearthing of the new 7 wonders of the world; led to quite a frenzy of number logic from my mom. It was a day that wouldn't step out of my memories; no, not for the numbers; those moments would forever be pressed on to my finer being. All's good. Period.

I get up from the bed and happily nudge myself into the living room. I am wished by my mom and the aunt who's come over from Bombay. Birthday wishes, they were and strikingly, it has been almost a month since the new year passed. I am in into my year 22 of existence. The training's done at Infy and I am into a project over which my dad happens to be very happy about. But, I think. And I am still thinking. Something doesn't seemingly set in. What was that? Life sucks? No. The new bike? No. Like for the job? No. Love for the job? No. Passion? Bingo! The passion's conspicuous by its absence. It is the defining factor and I can feel that void. Men have made and moved armies, built societies, spoken about singularities and sex, not by mere adrenalin, but passion in their being and doing. It drove them to do things that seemed outright crazy and preposterous for their fellow beings. Life has offered me glimpses of it, but they have remained mere sneak peeks. It is in us to shed mortal coils and step into the fab world of impossibilities. I guess, it was there, that humans figured that the impossible was very possible. Contentment at a mere peep would amount to murder. A plunge. Perhaps. Living there. An unwavering yes. But where? And how?

My journey begins.

My name is Billa

Suave, Sleek, Smart, Stylish and quite Disappointing. That's the Billa 2007. The film takes Tamil Cinema to new heights and is a technical feast. The cuts, the angles, the camera work and Ajit himself, are, to put it, simply a treat for the eyes. Ajit shimmers in his role as Billa. Retaining his touch to the script, Ajit very intentionally and rightly, has not tried to recreate Rajni. That's the high point of the movie. Many a remake is lost due to this faux pas recreation of the yesteryear artist. Billa 2007 has befittingly abstained from that.

Amidst rumors of the movie taking a cue from Farhan's Don, surprisingly, the movie is most loyal to Rajni's Billa. The director has rightly done so, as spin offs from Farhan's movie would have created unhealthy talk. The characters appear fresh in each frame and the color composition of the movie is brilliant. The cinematographer's choice of filters and sublime look is commendable. Nirav Shah has indeed done a good job of it. The film tries to be stylish and surpasses the style expectations. Editing is astute. Till that point, the movie is fine. The Catch-22? The script.

Billa 2007 sticks to the original like a leech and, the drought of twists or turns in this movie creates an aura of drag throughout. The movie seems as if the director was in a quagmire all along. The script pulsates between Ajit and the story, leaving the audience in a dilemma. The first half of the film is dominated by Billa(Ajit), where he's being continuously shown in various frames, disembarking from premium cars and helis, and the never-taken-off-eyes Ray Ban glasses. Dialogues are neither prominent nor many, and do not make much noise. It is the style quotient that is vivid in this part of the movie. The story creeps, and the screenplay inches along. It is clearly not one of Vishnuvardhan's best. Billa is an international smuggler who is desperately being hunted by the police force headed by DSP(Prabhu). After several unsuccessful attempts to nab Billa, the team hatch out a plan and finally corner him. Billa escapes once again, only to be shot at. Unable to sustain his injuries, he dies. This is where the film picks some pace. The DSP(Prabhu) etches a plan to find out the other smugglers and finds out an identical personae for replacing Billa. Velu(Ajit) is convinced to act as Billa. Gokulnath(Rehman) also appears as an Interpol Officer, and his presence puzzles Prabhu, who does not let know anyone about the plan. Santhanam, appearing as Velu's friend does a good job, given the role constraints. The first half ends with Velu announcing himself as Billa to his gang.

The second half makes a quite interesting segment, as there are pretty interesting dialogues. The masterful actor that he is, Ajit effectively potrays the variance between the real Billa and Velu as Billa. Good work, indeed! On the director's front, I do expect a minimal twist and suspense in the storyline when you are Vishnuvardhan. It is there that the film falls and the audience is let down. After some cliched twists in the movie, the DSP is shot dead and the whole Billa gang is caught. Velu is posed with no alternative but to confess that he was acting as Billa and it was a part of the DSP's plan. With the DSP dead, how Ajit manages to convince the police that he is Velu forms the rest of the movie.

Namitha and Nayanthara fail to make an impression and should have put in more effort to add to the oomph factor, atleast. The person in the role of Ranjit looks stale in expressions, but is an able character in the movie.The songs lack finesse and though shot well, fail to linger in the minds of people after the movie is done with. Rehman and Prabhu are fine with their part. Rehman, although has played his part with a subdued effect which makes him look more good than Major Sundarajan in the original Billa. Characterizations are apt.

It's smart. It's chic. It Hollywood influences are rightly seen. Ajit as Billa, is nothing short of handsome and gets into the skin of the characters seamlessly. No comparisons can be made with the original and that's the foremost flavour of Billa 2007. The story though, might have its annuling effects and is likely to not go down too well with the audiences.

Well, to make a remake is an effort. To make a success of it is another story altogether. To make a remake out of a successful remake, cannot guarantee success. Showbiz is never that simple. But, Billa just might prove to be a success story after all.

It's a mad, mad, mad world

The relief of having completed the training program could be seen on the face of the trainees. They had successfully passed the main exam. Fresh from college, a gruelling 4 month experience had made them see a lot of ups and downs. They had been amidst passes and failures alike. The batch party was about to start. The Batch owner, a towering figure, walked into the hall amidst a lot of boos. He managed to have a sheepish grin on his face and looked more like a doll. He was not exactly the popular of figures, his demeanor not being amicable; the students were not exactly happy with the way he handled them.

"When is this *^&%$#@ batch party commencing?" remarked my friend.

"I hope it is on soon", I replied, shifting myself to another chair, to enable me to get a better view of the proceedings. "Hey....There's your girl, man", I started to pull my friend towards seeing this lovely female dressed in orange.

"Good Evening, Everyone! . I would like to thank you all.....", the Batch Owner commence the prologues.

"Man, she looks great today", drooled my friend. I chanced this occasion to have a glimpse of the female in orange. "She does look beautiful dude".

"Of course she would, that's taste my friend", prided my friend.

"Hey, she is still not yours", I pointed out.

"Taste is taste, my dear. That's class", my friend replied, smiling.

"On this occasion of the first batch at........"

"Can't he just finish it off? I am already hungry", I chided.

"This is the last occasion where he can talk something and get away with it. Let him, for one last time, talk", my friend replied.

Not wanting to see him, I then turned my head to the female in orange. I couldn't remember her name, although I never made an attempt to find that out. 'Nature and its beautiful beings are to be admired', I thought.

"The following members will receive awards for their excellent performances in the training programs", the Batch Owner readied himself to call out the names.

"Here go the studious ones. I bet they wouldn't know how the outside world looks", my friend remarked with a tone of anger.

"Who cares, anyway? Hey, what about a party tonight? For completing the training successfully? What say, dude?", feeling good about the idea of a party. Party meant booze and hangovers, of which I loved the former. I was chugging him in.

"No man, not today. We have a session after this entire program, to inform us about our postings".

"We can go in the night, then", I quipped. I was getting annoyed with the fact that it had been ages since I had drunk and I wanted to feel the heat of it. I was not a drunkard, but I loved the idea of passing out. I also loved the idea of calling up my girlfriend when drunk, and talking things. My friends were unaware of the existence of my relationship. I had managed to hide it all the way through. My girlfriend, it was a comforting thought to think about her. Inspite of the umpteen fights we have, we still manage to fight more. It was pretty amusing and my thoughts wandered off to my girl. I loved her. It had been quite sometime since we had met. I was planning to go to my hometown once the postings were to be released. I then gleamed about the opportunity of getting to meet my girlfriend.

"Tea Time folks!". The whole audi reverberated with a sign of exasperation as the batch owner finally called for tea. I was in a world of my thoughts, which were harshly halted in its steps.

"There she goes, my pretty one!". My friend remarked on seeing the girl in orange. Girls are girls. And boys love seeing them. A missing gospel truth, I suppose. My eyes then shifted from the orange one to a blue one, which was quite plump to look at, but had this cute dimple. My girl too had a dimple, not a big one, small, but it was beautiful in its place.

Not again!

"Jose Mourinho, the 'Special One' is ousted from Chelsea", scream the papers! Believe me folks, I am still not able to digest the fact that an outstanding man of talent would be thrown out due to a petty verbal skirmish(so say the papers!). It's disheartening to note that 'The beautiful game' is fast becoming a superficial make up box. Directors buy players for their brand value, and worry little about the balance of the team. It is slowly becoming an open secret that few clubs really aim at providing the best football to the spectators. The football of today reflects a mafia feel to the public with the clubs being bought by the rich and the famous. It's business as usual for them, though. The pretext of providing great football is obliterated by mere branding share and percentage and green equity.

The world knows the talent of the man, Mourinho. He pulled Chelsea from the rugs and took them to towering heights. Though, the championship league cup eluded them, they emerged victorious in a lot of other instances. No wonder that Sir Alex Ferguson saw a boisterous equal emerging. Mourinho was more of a mentor, a teacher, and an inspiration in himself. This vessel of talent was beleaguered and lost due to mere differences. Is it not high time that people who know the game, spoke about it and controlled it? The world has many Mourinho's and an equal share of Abrahamovich's and the latter's proportion does dilute the game to a high extent. Do these people really know about the sport? Being rich means powerful. but, in no way does this guarantee possession of knowledge. This would be the prime element that a lot lack. There are indeed striking similarities between the business of the game and the business of an organization. But blindly applying business centric thoughts to a game might destroy the being of the game. And this is what is precisely happening, even closer home. BCCI and the IHF are 2 famous examples. Can you people propose an idea to remove this element of business in the sporting society? How efficiently or effectively can a structure be built to encourage all, and, to weed out discrimination and bias?

The return

Hi there ppl.....Of chains and fetters, of software and the homo sapien.....Yup...Its been a long hiatus from blogging for me...(Courtesy: My training program at the dream software company)...Internet restricted! Heart's been skippin bleats(blogs-heartbeat) for quite some time. Relief now!!!Sunday's a full 24-hour internet access day..Yippeee!!!

A lot of things have been happening in the worlds, as they always do. Beckham's transfer, the unrest in Myanmar, Global warming, Artic exploration, Sunita Williams, and our local SethuSamudram caper. That's quite a gamut, a variety ridden one. Well, Old habits die hard. And I am planning to commence my series of serial thoughts on the most happening and unhappening, not-so-happening, and the whatever stuff in this world. And sorry Sandhya for disturbing you again!!!!!