As good as it gets

Grand Slams happen every year, champions get crowned, the vanquished gets paranoid before embracing normalcy and the next year is ready to come.
But for one that swears fascinating blend of charisma and top notch performances, a grand slam seldom braces such menace in abundance. That’s Wimbledon for you.
19011364754_7de4e31794_o

I dont recollect my last outing when I watched a men’s Wimbledon final at the imperious All England Club, thanks to my prophecy of withstanding priorities. Yes, truly, and indeed, I loved Wimbledon since my younger days and could give any statistician a run for his money. Perhaps, I will come back to this a bit later.

Watching Djokovic demolishing Federer today, for me, in a way, is the beginning of a new generation and end of yet another glorious era. I spoke of the same eulogy when Federer ended Sampras’s reign as the numero uno of tennis world, way back in 2001 as a curious yet talented 19 year old chap. World moves on, so does tennis and so inevitably does Wimbledon.
I know Federer did say that he loves the game and will continue but as they say, the strings wont produce the same music and not sure if we will see him in next year’s final. Yet, fingers crossed.
19448394400_ef292cfd95_o

I dont think Federer played terrible tennis, though his 10+ unforced errors and blemished first servers were an indication of the man who wasn’t at his best, your body cannot respond with the same reflexes and vigour after 17 grand slams and 14 years at the top of the world. I just thought Djokovic was brilliant. His madness from the baseline, his accurate and powerful first serves, the passion to dominate the nets and his demeanour of furious collage – I saw all the makings of a future champion. And, sure to stay.
Some of his return of serves were bullet hits breezing past a giant of a player, and couple of passing shots will hit through me till next June. He was a bit ruffled when he lost the second set, I thought Federer fought back like a lion but a player of his stature cannot rest on missed opportunities. And, as anticipated, he came back roaring. In fact, he was never quite in danger of losing his serve and always looked towering enough to break Federer each time he pledged to retain his serve.

Coming back to my obsession with Wimbledon.
19446454120_52ff013e8a_o
I can safely say that I grew up watching players like Sampras and Rafter. Honestly, I still keep saying that there will never be another ‘Pistol’ Pete to shoot the temperatures up. In fact, a notch higher and loved watching Boris Becker (his collaboration with Djokovic is reaping dividends) play. An era of the serve and volley, players like Borg, Lendl, Mcnroe, Becker, Edberg were great exponents of the skilful game. Its a dying art today, but thought the game kind of revived charm with likes of Sampras, Agassi, Rafter, Ivanisevic (probably the wild one of this lot). Still remember Sampras finals with Ivanisevic and Agassi, even Rafter. If one was raw power, the other was precision and grit. Agassi, was a combination of craziness and gloating talent. Such was the enormity of players then, though I admit that have not been following the contemporary quite frivolously as I would have loved to. Reliving them after all these years kind of brings the ‘me’ in me.

This year, gloriously, has been rewarding for the Indian scene in Wimbledon. 3 back to back championship titles in 2 days for Leander and Sania, was thrilled to see the young lad come up trumps in the tussle of Boys. Leander has been our warhorse for years now and his accomplishment is one for those great Indian sporting stories we would like to talk about, often and more. Pleasing sight!

19638331675_9311aefbc5_o
Ironic to say, when I visited Wimbledon couple of months back and was basking in the place reminiscent of some great following of the sport and its history, I was kind of disappointed that we didn’t have much of Indian presence to rave about. I thought India as a nation is boggled with enormous talent and sporting abilities, and this is one place we would like to stamp an authority on. In fact, the lady we got as a guide quickly exclaimed that they would love to see an Indian Champion soon, not sure about hers but my prayers have been answered, would love to visit her again and pay the compliments with due usherness.

In Wimbledon, it only gets greener every year.

around me

day begins with a yawn, ends with probably a bigger one. life packs quite a punch amidst the most popular and common human encore.

usually, I tend to love bright mornings but escapades of our frivolous nature have plans of their own. Quite rightly so and my arrogance to demand freebies from our creative mother seems uncalled for.

sunrise, morning breakfast, work, lunch at work, long days, get back home to a much jovial and caressing life, inside stories, memoirs, the precarious wait for weekends and the dread of monumental Monday’s. Huh!

for me, there’s much more – inside and out. Such gigs take me out of my glutton head chore and place me in a pedestal of palpable passion.

lifeoholic’s

Did you find yours? Let’s do it together ☺️.

Reliving Byomkesh

Calcutta. Cha aar singhada. Country savaged by war, cities torn by partition and hatred. People in clutches of political propaganda and heist, witnessing victims of brutal animosity. Saradindu Bandhapadhyay’s witty and courageous Byomkesh Bakshi. 

 

Well, for me, Byomkesh Bakshi embodies the waters of above. And surprisingly, he hasn’t been an ardent flavor of Cinema, as such. Satyajit Ray’s Chiriakhana, amongst the few, stands out. Ray’s class of realistic horticulture and Mahanayak’s belligerent performance made a cult out of it. Basu Chatterji’s Byomkesh was a television icon and I used to go crazy to see a young, lanky detective solving unusual mysteries with his writer-friend, Ajit Banerjee.
Honestly, I have not watched much of the contemporary Byomkesh. Though, would love to.

Let’s come back to Dibakar Banerjee’s Byomkesh Bakshi.
I must admit, was indeed a tad apprehensive about DBs Byomkesh. Evidently, I hate spoilers of legends. At the pretext of rejuvenating classics, we sometimes, churn shit out of garbage and package it with EFX to poke the audience. Worst, we buy it, eat popcorn and there ends the myriad story.
Thankfully, no fingers burnt.

Its the first episode, wherein Byomkesh encounters crime and his to-be partner, Ajit in a series of embroiled kit. The way Byomkesh is thrown at us is quite reluctant – arrogant but with a piece of an intelligent eye. We hate protruding people in our lives, and Byomkesh kettles himself with youthful bogeys to trade an investigation.
DB is aware of Byomkesh’s preceding reputation, and collages his characters carefully. And, to an extent, he succeeds at will. Couple of sequences with Ajit stood out for his uncanny resolve and respect for his relationships. If you have followed Byomkesh closely, he does remain aloof but treasures his novice helpers – Ajit and later, the oblivious Satyavati. Tales of treason loom large as Byomkesh gets embroiled in a lethal game of conspiracy and power hordes.

Few sequences stood out for sheer gobble mania – Gajanan Sikdar’s death scene, his frequent tabs with Ajit and bullish conversations around his dad’s disappearance, escape through the black cab and subsequent blood splatters in the dentist’s clinic, the roundtable climax with veritable protagonists. Byomkesh’s legend couldn’t have a better start in the tinsel world.

  

Byomkesh and Calcutta are an inseparable couple. The partition fed city, the usual flair of Calcutta streets, the Sealdah bound tram in Shyambazar, newspapers smirched with the next bombing tales, the morning bath in the water pipes across the streets, the Esplanade signal and the conspicuous hand laden rickshaws.
Brilliantly nostalgic!

Sushant Singh Rajput as Byomkesh is convincingly astute. His partner in crime, Ajit as Anand Tiwari does a neat job. Other notable characters come in small packages and rally around the plot diligently. But Neeraj Kabi as Anukul Guha is astounding. His caveat of emotions, a chameleon like naiveness and staggering screen presence is stamped all over this mystery tale.

Dibakar Banerjee has triggered a fortune, and I want filmmakers to lead the baton ahead.

Plenty.

Yes. Consumed. Period. Inflammable isn’t an attribute, it’s a way of getting burnt. 
Hopes. Turmoil. Not over but begun. Ah, just yet.

Travel fascinates me, engulfs life over its normalcy and catapults mortals to a perceived cubicle of succumbing dreams. Yes, am fulfilled. Yes, I dream. Yes, I dare. Yes, started.

Phases co exist, precluding but stoppable. Yells but cannot sustain. We win. Efforts might go beneath but never unnoticed. Not words of wisdom, but conviction of life. Life savers. Rather.

Money sells, relationships don’t. The basis of bestowed values rests upon wealthy bank balances. Not for prosperity but for deterent rodents to feast on economic holes.

That’s, for the people. Former, is self gloated.
Good omen is like waves, comes through stones and rocks to wet us. Quite a welcome air!

Not talking about the heat wave this year, while other linguistics proved much hotter than Sun’s wrath.

Ah! You seem to consider this underrated. Well, just started to blink.

Truly, Rest in Peace..

My nerves shook when I read this story. A life never lived, this is probably one those painful stories which was never told or heard enough. Organically alive but dead as vegetable, a life destroyed by a dastardly act of vengeance. Yet, we continue to live in urban jungle with animals lurking around.

Indeed, jungle it is.

I want this story to reach every corner, and pledge together to stop such acts of vast inhuman proportions.

Please, let’s save our women.

http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/aruna-shanbaug-dead-rape-mumbai-hospital-coma-euthanasia/1/438859.html

Archives

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.