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I have a self confessed fascination for legacy, and it certainly gives a road map to our roots. After all, today is risen from the past that paves the way for tomorrow. Seldom acknowledged, though.

You will see some shots which are by far, the most revered ones. Those were the times when my photographic bargaining took a delicious turn towards an indulgent passion. And remember, there was an era when having a camera in hand was unheard of and photography was an art that was consumed by the elite. 

I am revisiting myself, come along.

  
Infant politics at its cutest 😊. No prizes for guessing who the protagonist is.

  
Truly. God does live here, and perhaps I know why. He chose the best for himself, else operating the clan would be near impossible despite his undisputed sanity.

  
Known for my oratory affections, this was, by all standards, keenly shot. In love with myself. Period.

  
Easily, my all time fav shot. With Miami-like curves and some gorgeous show stoppers, this is a must visit for waters in paradise.

    
Double Punch. No. It isn’t Niagra. One of the most divine and beautiful scenes I have ever captured. This place initially didn’t find a place amongst the agenda and today, it’s difficult to imagine how life would have moved ahead without my signature touch over these eloquent sights. My take – lets do it again.

  
I somehow found this shot extraordinary. Apparently, nothing extraordinary about it unless you see through my eyes. Sun feeling quite shy about my presence around, suddenly disposes itself in to oblivion. Doesn’t happen everyday, and a classic was born.

teaser, for a change.

For the writers around me, one of your clan is busy making movies 😊, watch out!

SS@msksmiles

Till next time.

“Slogans die, hopes don’t”. @msksmiles 

After a dismal Aussie tour and an equally ignominious triangular series, India was left wanting in areas of cricketing aspect. Except for couple of individual brilliance, rest of the team just fell flat on their knees. Team was in tatters, media slaughtered them for lack of sustenance and India’s overseas woes in the original format of the game were in a brink of disaster. 

That was before the World Cup began. 

Then the Indian Renaissance began. We stormed through the initial stages, beat top teams like Pakistan, South Africa and West Indies to reach the semis. It was a turnaround that surprised us but India is known for such comebacks in the shorter format of the game. Our bats made runs, bowlers took wickets in plenty and suddenly, the ambushed team had risen like a Pheonix. I think we must take a lot of heart from these performances so far. Honestly, I didn’t think they were going past the quarters and they did outperform my chances of them in this World Cup. Yes, we do expect us to win once we reach the semis but then, I don’t think we really had the bite today to counter the Aussies. Nevertheless, I would still say that my expectations were met in this edition of the CWC for India. 

As for the match, what we didn’t want was what exactly unfolded. I don’t think we can do much when Australians are batting first in a WC semi-final, wickets are the key as containing wont really yield dividends. Once you have a score of 300 plus to chase, its always going to be tough. Worst, our batsman chose the wrong day to fail in tandem. I expected Kohli to fire but he went cheaply. So did Raina and Rahane, Dhawan’s resilience wasn’t enough. As always, MSD held the fort to deny the inevitable but we probably realise that he was waging a lost battle. He was left alone to scamper through with zero support, and that were gruesome signs of India going down without a fight. The earlier semi-final was a great advertisement for the game, this wasn’t to be. 

If you go by the degree of disappointment, I have largely maintained that our 2003 WC loss to Aussies will always hurt, forever. In terms of performance, leadership and class, that was one of best Indian outfit to play the shorter format of the game. Sourav’s immaculate captaincy, our bowler’s evolution as match winners and Sachin’s single handed brilliance to take us to the final was an achievement of epic proportions. As much as I hail Dhoni & Co. for bringing the cup home in 2011, the 2003 outing would have been right there with Kapil Paaji’s Lords triumph. It was not be. Today’s loss shouldn’t be such a dampener though. 

Our rivalry will continue with the Aussies for the next few years, to avenge our 2003 loss in a CWC will have to wait for sometime now. I am not talking about test matches here, don’t want to. 

I still think India is a great one day side, and few changes need to happen. Flak will come in its way, and they have to take it in as a backlash is normal back at home. We really need to introspect if players like Rohit Sharma and Ravindra Jadeja are to be retained. Bowlers did well in this tournament (we never expected them to perform), I would laud their efforts for coming out of a CWC with 70+ wickets in as many matches. MSD is the best we have got to lead our one day format and this defeat shouldn’t let him to take some harsh decisions – his post match conference statements gave me something to relish about. I think he was fantastic throughout the tournament, we must not forget that he led a relatively young Indian side with maturity and perseverance. 

Till next time, that is.

When’s next?

‘Animals don’t live in jungles anymore. We have evolved – they look like humans, dress like normal people, roam around in every corner of our lives and rape our women like predators’.

Rape has now become a rustic commodity of filthy proportions. Ever since the gruesome night in Delhi, we talk about it almost everyday, much like politics banter, cricket victories and the economic stories. And much to the dismay of our self, we just keep living with this horror of being surrounded by such m*****f****** who take immense pride in killing the soul of our lives. And to top it, we have few shameless coordinates who fight for such junks and audaciously proclaim that the root cause of such barbaric events rests on our women. Aghast I am!

No, the piece of my mind is not due to the recently released documentary that’s doing the rounds in FBs and Twitters. But I am pained to see the respect our governments and establishments have for the womenfolk in the country. And mind you, it isn’t an Indian issue. I believe US, Europe and South East are faced with even terrible dangers of dealing with such blood shots as their crime rate of rape incidents are astronomical. True, India is generating a lot of hue and cry on this of late, but to term India as the most unsafe for women would be a foolish statement. Unless, someone is truly addressing the issue with the jerk that’s actually required for such heinous acts.

Let me tell you a short tale. Right from my childhood days, Kolkata was widely acknowledged as one of the safest cities in India where respect for women was a part of folklore. The only city in India where Maa Durga and Kali are worshipped with an extravaganza that’s unseen outside the Bengal waters. My sister and mom could walk in home after 11 PM without mobile phones, we could still sleep tight beneath our pillows, being assured of their safe return. 15-20 years down the line, this has changed. With all my love for the city of joy that remains undiminished, this change is a sorry state of affairs for the women in the city. The other day, I read about a rape case in rural Bengal, the sordid tale goes beyond the interiors. Major cities including Kolkata wake up to such horrors every morning and the newspaper goes to the trash can by end of the day but the events don’t. Mumbai, Hyderabad, Bangalore, Chennai, Ahmedabad and of course Delhi – all have rape jargon to boast of. Yet, the noise dwindles for the day, only to reappear with few more maniacs lurking around like grasshoppers. Hard to notice, but yet creeping over our lives.

Coming back to the documentary, more intent was displayed on banning it rather than focussing on the content that brought forth such unscrupulous people living around that includes fire fighting guys like lawyers – I was shocked to hear their perception of women and a nightmare to imagine that these guys have mothers and wives to live with. Why don’t we ban such lawyers from the system? Is this what we come up from education and civilised decorum (so called)? I agree that the documentary kind of glorifies the comments of the precarious individuals but then why not tap on this ugly publicity to slaughter the administration that survives on the bane of such individuals?

Worst, these kinds are custodians of law and we expect them to fight for morality. Holy Christ!

We have seen that rape is beyond feminism, sensuality and lust. It’s an act of vicious audacity that murders humanity, at the core. How on earth do you explain 6 year olds being raped? What could be the modus operandi? Nuns are being raped, what…? I am not sure if you feel the agony around or you probably decide to just ignore it until something ghastly happens with one of your own?? Newspapers, media, governments, wealthy powerful people.. Do they just splash the news to invoke curiosity out of those celebrated convicts? May be, we will wait for another 10 years to make up our mind if rapists deserve death penalty? I still hear statements like ‘India is a tolerant country, our culture is different’ – how long will we live with shit like this and embrace ourselves to cowardice in the pretext of shielding our values? Are we not the same country whose pseudo title happens to be ‘Mother India’?

Well, Mother in India is dying, what about you World?

Packet Reviews

World Cup is high on the table and India is off to a rocking start. Beating Pakistan was significant (more from a non cricketing sense) but downing the Proteas was good performance as they are a quality side and will give India the right impetus to progress ahead. Early days but looking forward to some positive news from our stable.

I haven’t been writing much but have been catching on with some stories, and some inspired stuff. Interestingly, small packets make a good headline.

I credit Gautham Vasudev Menon for 2 achievements in Tamil Cinema. One for creating the most sublime love story of the 21st century and other for churning out raunchy crime thrillers that has been one of its kind for our audience. Honestly, ‘Yennai Arindhal’ doesn’t relive the usual charisma of his earlier classics but is certainly watchable for more than couple of reasons. It brings the actor Ajith out with some hard hitting sequences and interesting playback. Rest, is all that’s packaged in a new container. Background score is impressive but songs have a tinge of earlier notes, though hummable. Arun Vijay isn’t the veracious baddie but delivers a commendable performance. Overall, a flick that takes you relive some glorious moments from GVMs earlier classics.

Anurag Kashyap and his dark men are made for each other. ‘Ugly’ brings them together under roof with his usual tangy vitals and fatal notes. His characters are truly ugly and have their share of grey curvatures. Though, his credibility lies in getting them straight out of life with an uncanny urge of uncomfortable bliss. The crime in the background still stays afloat as protagonists revolve in a riveting tale of torrid drama. Great editing, apt casting and king size performance makes ‘Ugly’ a great collage of emotional dynamite. Must watch!

‘American Sniper’ brings Clint Eastwood in the forefront of an American war hero who is a champion shooter who fights the ghosts of battlefields in his daily life. We have seen such epics in the past (Munich, Madras Cafe to name a quick few) that depict such heart wrenching tales of loyalty and sorrow. Consumption is the major vehicle here, and who consumes who is an enigma. Despite 4 horror stricken tourneys of death and survival, he still emerged a winner but with little to take away for his own. The Iraqi sequences are beautifully shot (reminded ‘Body of Lies’) and Bradley Cooper’s performance stood out in this poignant biopic. Not the best ever, but certainly stands out of the mediocre queue.

Masala films have never been my kind, but some stand out for sheer depiction and execution of characters. Simplicity is their powerful weapon, and sometimes, it does deliver the knock out punch. I will rate ‘Badlapur’ in this genre. Sriram Raghavan’s slickly made action thriller is a neatly made film. He does bring the age old revenge-to-avenge formula to decorate his plot but does it with some no nonsense barriers. Good job with the casting, he bought some very talented actors together to show we can do with an ordinary yet smart script. Varun Dhawan is a surprise, and he shows he can act. His dad could be less proud but I liked him in this brooding avatar. Others have small yet significant portions and do well. Songs are taken off and is such a breather, Indian films could do so much better by stripping of those lyrical jingles in such genre. My pick is Nawazuddin Siddiqui, his screen space is not huge but he packs a punch in his scenes. Perhaps, the way he looks is probably the biggest asset to Hindi cinema. Small film but could be a big winner.

Back2Back: Review Corner

PK
Aamir Khan and Rajkumar Hirani? Well, ideal expectation is a cinematic swagger. The end product is almost perfect, but isn’t the Christmas cake with all cherries and pies though.
What made other Raju films strike a chord with audience (Munnabhai, Lage Raho, 3 Idiots) was them being very close to reality and yet deliver brutal syndromes with sublime affection. They were not cacophony but drew us to the edge of the seats with simplicity and morality of life. PK, amongst all cheers, derails on this benchmark. But does come out with extraordinary moments and a powerhouse performance to stay large.
An alien sans clothes, ethnicity, language and complicated human trilogies, creates questionable situations wherever he lands and flirts with trouble in a fascinating turmoil. Most despise him, few dare to look at him and couple of them adored him. And that’s how, Jaggu and Sanju fit this palpable ride with the most unusual inhabitant of their worlds. One is a nobody but tries to be human, the other has problem of her own and is fighting with self, hoping to see a redemption that would entice sensibilities within a small little world. PK is probably the perfect stimuli to their incomplete lives and brings them to a world of his that’s defined by simplicity and devoid of human subjugation. He makes few to shed tears, brings many to their knees and vows all with his dose of ‘battery recharge’.
Such scripts are usually driven by 2 factors: lead actors and the director. Surprisingly, the director here supersedes the editor by few notches and I term it as the kaput of this plot. Couple of characters were wasted (not usually a Rajkumar Hirani attribute) and few scenes are mirrored from his earlier classics. Music is hummable; Shaan’s Chaar Kadam keeps my foot and heart tapping. PK is shot well, not overwhelming but keeps it to the stature. Supporting acts play around well, Boman Irani and Saurabh Shukla do their seasoned acts efficiently. Anushka as the bubbly and emotional Jaggu is endearing in patches. But her look in PK is probably the reason she will be adored. SSR has a cameo, and sticks to his sleeves.
Aamir Khan towers above all. His body language, expressions of being in an unknown land, framing people about their reason of existence in a manner of an infant who has lots of questions for this world and sharing his moments with people who found joy in his cherubic anecdotes – I was completely floored. He has been evolving as an actor, and PK places him in a pedestal of some fabulous legends we have seen in the world of Cinema.
PK – Precariously King.

Haider
When it comes to great films, I expect to see conflict in interests and perception, insatiable urge to achieve glory amidst ruins and oscillating ways of human relationships.
When it comes to Vishal Bharadwaj films, I expect just one. Awesome-ness. And Haider, is a marvel in the zone of the wannabe.
No one toys with Shakespeare as much as VB has explored the genre, and a menacing plot with lust and deceit can never overcome the bludgeon of human intracacies. VB brings in all in this steaming saga of a la Hamlet in the heart of a land which is considered to be the mother of all graveyards – Kashmir.
Kashmir is a long standing battle that burns more everyday. More importantly, there are people who survive and make money when the flames are higher and harder. Haider is born in a stable of hatred and conviction, thus learning that they are the only kinds of people living in this world. The plot is his story, and the symposium is the apocalypse around Kashmir where humanity dies every hour.
I think to be drawn with comparisons with Hamlet itself would be a crime, as they are separated by centuries and withstood by generations. Yet, the context, logistics and monstrous intentions around the epic in both versions remain unhindered. The agonising lives of thousands, the betrayal of their own, the dwindling hopes of a nation splattered in the blood of innocents and a waging war that is fighting their own demons. Haider has his own tale in a web woven out of drastic proportions.
VB’s protagonist is guilt and best ally is hatred. The sibling then, has to be vengeance. All characters belittle each other’s conscience to battered glory, and blood galore.
An uncanny resemblance to an iconic Maqbool is quite inevitable. Though, Haider has it’s golden moments. The mother-son moments, his fathers narration of his desire to avenge the infidelity of his brother and the haunting background score – all distinguish fragments of Haider’s soul.
Kay Kay Menon is quite understated, and Irrfan Khan sizzles in his cameo. But the winner is the mother-son duo. Tabu sparkles in a performance where men are meant to be frontrunners. Truly, she remains one of the most underrated actress in tinsel town. Shahid Kapoor is brilliant as Haider. He whims, drools, broods and perspires in a pit of vicious urge and tyranny.
Haider isn’t the best of the trilogy, but still manages to delight with grit and gross reality.

Saturday Corner: Finding Fanny

Rustic characters, naive intentions, fake prejudices, 5 human beings treading a path of nullified emotions, desires and smallness. Finding Fanny isn’t your run of the mill, next door 2 and a half hour maroon. It’s celebrating human discoveries.

Set in the ever gorgeous Goa, FF renders the laziness of the island amongst few individuals who are basking in deterrent glory of their self devoid barriers. A widow with a cavalier attitude, a postman who unravels his love story after 46 years, a pretty young lady who loses her husband and desires minutes after her wedding, a painter who embodies lust over artistic colours, a young lad who searches for life after losing his girl to his best buddy. The best thing about each of them is their hidden fiascos of life. Or rather, the lack of it.

Homi Adajania strikes the right chords while he oscillates between the tangled lives and frivolous lives of the mean people he tries to broadcast in this conjugate tales. The beaches, the low lying yet ambitious sensibilities and the chemistry of malicious emotions take us through the rugged paths with immense flavour. His characters are not conventional, but they certainly are plucked straight from our unearthly lives. Its seldom that we realise such poignancy with ominous flair.

His casting is the brightest here. What else can we expect when 2 fine actors come together with 2 ravishing women and a young lad with loads to flaunt?

Naseer is at his usual whacky self, Pankaj Kapur is crookedly brilliant and Deepika Padukone makes our jaws drop as she blinks beautifully through the Goan ranches. Arjun Kapoor does well to creep in this ensemble drama with sumptuous humour. Dimple Kapadia, I must say, looks awful in her mommy act here. Not her performance though but she does need to become a tad slimmer to ensure we can say that sharing screen space is indeed a reality (no pun intended though!).

I loved this short, turbulent yet enjoyable journey to find fanny, and ourselves.

Lots, and coming in..

Has been a good and hectic time of pandora around with glitz and curiosity in equal measures.

No, not because of Germany’s triumph but for the vanquished ones. Have always been an admirer of Albiceleste since school days and those sentiments probably stick around. Not to mention, I played ‘pada’ football during much of my younger days and have some fond memories from those packet sized foul mouthed haute. Days of such ignorance and yet so blissful ! Loved the world cup though, some interesting matches with the seldom class that hovers around the big match players and the vital games. Though 1.30 IST hurt, but got through with little hiccups.

Went through some invigorating movies to laud myself. Bit of weaver stuff as my appetite for versatility keeps growing :).
Feeling about money and making money are 2 very different things in life, 2 such films played a frivolous penchant to my bickered thought process.
‘Wolf of Wall Street’ was a Scorsese chaos with a stunning collage of characters woven in dollars, drugs and pussy. It had a rawness about the protagonist, not to mention his incredible ability to persuade and destruct his instincts with an insatiable orgy towards the inimitable greed.
Oliver Stone’s Wall Street is more sober, yet punches in intrigue with oodles of human tussle that involves ego, deceit and vengeance through convulsive relationships. Yet again, greed is a component that emerges as a human parasite. Extinguished but never withers away to defy a comeback.
Though a Scorsese patriot, Stone’s Wall Street was more real in terms of pudding versus pie tussle.

Lot more happened, and I could just about remain reclusive as work treated me as its host with lot to unravel. And, continues, that is.

54 CW glories, the pinnacle at Lords and the nadir in Manchester, Djokovic’s Wimbledon triumph, Hockey India’s march till Australia put paid to the illuminating hopes.
My Blu-ray orders that never erodes away, Calcutta’s rain which defines intermittent oscillation through our mandate chores.
WWDC was more mellowed to replenish our expectations, iOS 8 means less as much as a device that would pour more that intends to carry 8 with aplomb.
Apple is all set to end my wait for a 5.5 iPhone, hopefully it transcends to a kettle of revolution that once made my 4 flaunt with incorrigible pride. It still remember my stores saying – ‘the days of iPhone 4 were an absolute chaos, and few around knew what an iPhone would do for them in the next few years’. Do I say more? Don’t think I have to.
I must say that Samsung Note 4 could tease the next iPhone (not as much as Google Glass did to re-imagine our tech tooth) but I would like to see an overhaul for the latter.

My in transit relationship with a voice over awaits in the next few weeks, and am waiting for an even quicker backlash. For now, if that gives you reason enough to sit through for my next.

Tale of four cities

Lawrence of Arabia
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0056172/

A pedigree of class and indulgence, this Academy de noir was a spectacular voyage. More than half a decade later, it still ranks high amidst world heritage stuff. Gloriously shot, it captures the glitz of sand and vivacity of the deserts with enormous thirst. The lengthy golden traits, the exquisite sights of crawling camels under divine sunsets, the marauding Arab camps and the ever pretentious Whites in their game of philandering supremacy. The wit versus hoard through bilateral landscapes unfold in a fashion of a classic entrepreneur wielding his own fortunes. A hungry and a dramatic adventure, LoA reminds me of the vintage era that basked in sumptuous glory and plethora of elegance.

Iruvar
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119385/

Perhaps, Mani’s finest yet. The cinematic hordes within a gamut of political and devious velvets, it brings the sliver screen in a breathing grasp of the mammoth Gulliver. Though the tag line of ‘not a true story’ is almost a paradoxical hunch, the script is so evidently intense. Aided by brilliant performances and a powerhouse background score, this sweltering script often acknowledges applause and awe in the same planet. Though panned by critics for obvious reasons within the territorial hinges, this remains to be a gutsy product in the world of Tamil and Indian cinema.

The Lunchbox
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2350496/

Human relationships are probably the most intriguing of all, you can write and talk all day but the sensibilities continue to elude you.

This AK production mystifies the age old enigma with a touch of nostalgia and a heart of gold. The backdrop is the quintessential Mumbai dabbawalas who become the messengers of a strange interlock that wields in to a fountain of deceit and redemption. Extracting terrific performances from it’s lead actors (Irrfan Khan and Nawazuddin Siddiqui), it governs your senses through heart wrenching moments. It takes away less, but returns a galore of humane traces that guilds through kettle drops.

Jatishwar
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3365690/

Post Ritu da’s departure, I felt that a vacuum was fielding Bengali cinema that has survived generations through a fierce conjunction of story telling through poetry and literature. I can see an evolution, Jatishwar took my vibes seriously.

Sreejit’s baby, it has loads to garland upon. Manoeuvring between traditional folklore and contemporary compositions, it manages to stitch the legacy with it’s tame shadows. Though the characters have earlier references and script itself is no stunner, the treatment is quite engaging. For a musical, the scores and rendition could have been a notch higher but couple of soundtracks continue to sing around me. Performances stand out. Prasenjit delivers another scorcher (doesn’t surpass his Baishey Shrabon jigs though!) and Jishu gives a terrain performance. Some valuable actors have been wasted and the leading lady was a frown. Yet, I will take this one with the yolk and the egg for the class-o-vein.