An unfamiliar role ...

i am no film critic ... somehow my motto has always been to watch a movie in order to enjoy it ... and leave the dissection bit to others more favourably inclined towards it ... and perhaps more 'qualified' to do it too ... but somehow this time i couldn't resist the urge ...

Aparna Sen, in her directorial career, has managed to carve out quite a niche for herself (and in the process for her daughter Konkona too, not taking anything away from her as an actress) ... her forte would appear to be thought-provoking cinema that address contemporary issues and also provide sensitive insights into relationships between the characters of her story ... "Mr. And Mrs. Iyer" and "Unishe April" being cases in point ... i had similar expectations from her latest (or perhaps not-so-latest) venture - "15 Park Avenue" ... and she did not disappoint ...

the story concerns a family of three contrasting women - Anjali, the divorced elder daughter, played by Shabana Azmi ... her Schizophrenic younger sister, Mithali, played by Konkona, and their widowed mother, Mrs. Mathur, played by Waheeda Rahman ... the dynamics of the family are quite complex ... Mithali's mental condition is cause for much anguish in the family and they are forced to resort to a specialist's treatment who suggests a holiday away from the city as a possible, if only temporary solution ... on their trip away to Bhutan, they cross paths with Mithali's ex-fiancee Jojo, played by Rahul Bose ... interestingly enough, Mithali, as a consequence of her affliction, lives in a wholly different world - one in which Jojo is her husband, and she, a mother of five ... Jojo, who is now married, with 2 kids, and who had left Mithali in her hour of need, feels in part responsible for her condition and decides to help her ... his decision is met with indignation by his wife, who feels she is somehow losing him to his Schizophrenic ex-fiancee ... Jojo has made his decision however, and takes Mithali to find the house where she 'lives' - at 15 Park Avenue ... and she does ...

the film was quite watchable and featured great performances from all and sundry ... Shabana Azmi fitted the role of a scholar and single-minded woman like a glove ... Konkona Sen Sharma was quite amazing in her portrayal of the mentally unstable Mithali ... and Waheeda Rahman was completely believable in a touching portrayal of the anguished mother watching her daughter suffer ... personally though i felt that the ending of the movie was a bit of a let-down ... and perhaps several alternatives, different from the run-of-the-mill 'lived happily ever after', did exist ... but then that's the director's perspective ...

for further details you better go watch the movie ...

Crash

A strange beeping sound ensued out of my near vicinity. I looked around in consternation, fully expecting a horde of aliens clad in costumes that would put Star Trek to shame, to jump out and paralyse me with one zort! from their evil-looking ray guns. The very thought of lying helpless under their glassy eyes, a mere guinea-pig for some diabolical experiment, had my hair standing on end. I looked around frantically, my eyes straining to detect some movement that would give away my impending attackers. No alien spaceship was in sight, however, rendering my paranoia quite unfounded. The beeping sound still persisted though, and I now realised that it was coming from somewhere real close. In fact, I could almost touch it by reaching out. And reach out I did, and the next thing I know, this thing was in my hand - this alive, jumping, beeping thing !! All of a sudden I didn't want anything to do with it and summoning up all my strength I hurled this thing as far as I possibly could.

CRASH !!

Blinding light engulfs me. I rub my eyes trying to coax things back into focus. And there I was sitting in the middle of my bed, with the shattered remains of what used to be my alarm clock littered all around me.

Too much of Futurama I guess.

A strange time ...

The party's over. At least for me. Might seem strange to hear but can't really help it. On the threshold of entering my fifth year of college I suddenly feel lost. And I mean lost. Not since my first year have I felt anything even remotely close to this. Difficult to place the feeling, ummm really difficult. Its like a weird cross between happiness and sorrow. Ahh! That's it ! Weird. The word that is, perhaps, best suited to describe it, given the circumstances. And yet whatever be the obscure nature of it, its gross result is not. Because it makes me want to go down in a heap and burst into tears. Funny how the human mind works. At times of incredible happiness the best thing it can conjure up are a few measly tears that blur the vision, trickle down the cheeks leaving tell-tale streaks and sometimes even drip down your chin and soil your best sunday attire. That same strange companion of the human race in times of pain is found all the same in places it is least expected to. This particular occasion, though, is not one of those tearful, mushy Hollywood-style movie endings where one is "overwhelmed" by happiness, or by the unbearable nature of it. This situation could not have been more different. And yet, come to think of it, not really different. Its rather like one of those situations where someone is about to lose a lot of very close friends - people with whom he has eaten and slept and spent every minute of every day for all of four long years - people whom one holds closer than anyone in the whole wide world - and all of a sudden, all gone. Or at least from his immediate vicinity, out of earshot. Because that was how close they all were - within shouting distance. But not any more. Everyone will go their own way, which in a few cases will not be all different, and this place will be rendered empty - of friends, of fun, of life.

May sound like a lot of melodrama to you - in fact had this been written in ink on paper you might have even spied a few tell-tale drops smudging the ink. But whatever heights the blogger might have reached it still remains a text document. Can't really "code" human emotions into the format of it, right ?

At least not yet.

Almost ... but not quite ...

A famous construction used brilliantly by the inimitable Douglas Adams in his historic novel series called "The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy". And in a context that is as much a far cry from his work as were some of his hilarious portrayals of alien civilizations, it pretty much sums up our experience of an event just concluded. An event that is much-vaunted in that it is supposed to crown the best western "group" in the campus. The prospect is a mouth-watering one for most college students as western music, or more specifically, ROCK music, has been the age-old way of breaking the rules, of creating new standards of musical perception. It is something the young generation can identify immensely with, and especially so in a totalitarian professor-dominated society like IIT Kharagpur. Here for a brief time, we get to throw caution to the wind and revel in the sheer, raw power of heavy metal even within the auspices of the Students' Gymkhana. A breath of fresh air it is supposed to be, but therein lies the fallacy. It is judged by - yeah you guessed it - a professor. What we get as a result is not something that should come as a surprise. A Hitler incarnate, to judge a mutinous show of boldness from the students. A veritable fossil to pass judgement on something that is quite clearly out of his time. The results are for all to see ...

While these events should serve as points of encouragement for young budding musicians, they instead kill off the last dregs of originality and creative spirit that may have been left after years of oppression. The few of us that have dared to dream, almost invariably end up on the losing side.

A season of plenty ...

The season of plenty is around the corner. As winter draws to a close, we see the world around us take on a different and strikingly refreshing hue. The green of the trees, the gold of the sun and the general pleasantness of the weather is something we all look forward to after the cold. However, the title of my post has nothing at all to do with impending spring. Surprised ?? Well let me explain. I am talking about the sudden change of heart that the institute has undergone as a result of which we find the Gymkhana getting access to an unprecedented flow of funds. The same authorities that had stubbornly refused to approve plans for a new Gymkhana building for several years citing reasons that were quite unacceptable to all-and-sundry have suddenly made a volte-face that has taken us all totally by surprise.

The reasons for doing so are quite obvious at first sight. One the one hand, the Inter-IIT sports contingent has done us all proud by winning the prestigious Inter-IIT General Championship, something that had eluded us since 2001-02. The response to that from the Institute side was the sanctioning of funds for the Gymkhana building. No mention had been made of the Social and Cultural side of things so far even though IIT Kharagpur is, probably, the only IIT to boast of soc-n-cult activities of any significance. But then such is the "subjective" nature of these events that any kind of grant would have to be supported by a tangible acheivement - something perhaps like the Inter-IIT soc-n-cult which would enable us to show our mettle on a greater stage. But then, the possibility of such an event occurring in the near future are bleak, if not non-existent. So, we poor souls who are more active on the soc-n-cult side of affairs cut a sorry figure and had all but given up hope of ever receiving the kind of monetary support that sports activites always seems to enjoy. As it turned out, all was not lost.

The proverbial spark was, perhaps, provided by the Spring Fest 2006 which sprang a few surprises, and provided some fantastic entertainment through the hugely-successful star nights and the unprecedented scenes that were witnessed in the Hasya Kavi Sammelan. This shook the powers-that-be out of their perpetual stupor and set the wheels in motion to make life a little easier for the soc-n-cult junta of IIT Kharagpur. Hence, we can finally see the Gymkhana being able to purchase equipment that would make a difference. For those of us who have been around for a while this would be a welcome change, although perhaps a little too late at least for the batch of 2006. But then, they say, its better late than never ...

Gutted ....

Feeling down ... really down ...

Our shot at "Wildfire" glory was turned into a farce today as everything imaginable went wrong. Its almost as if we are jinxed, as for the umpteenth time we were thwarted at possibly the last moment and left ruing our luck and wondering over what might have been.

It has just been that kind of week for us. First we had one of our band members backing out at what was perhaps the last possible moment. If that had made things difficult for us, we refused to show it and went ahead with our preparations with renewed vigour, confident that our hard work would surely pay off. And sure enough, things were looking up for us. Or so we thought.

Our songlist was ready and we were smoothening out the little wrinkles that were still apparent in our setup. The practice sessions were looking better and better and we had all the cause for cheer. The most difficult of songs that we were about to attempt was slowly but surely coming together and consequently spirits were soaring. And then calamity struck.

The morning of our show. Things are all going according to plan - we finish a cycle of our songs and it sounds good. We then receive a call telling us to assemble immediately in the open-air auditorium as we were to be the next band on stage. That threw us off our stride a bit, as we were expecting to have to go on stage at least an hour from then. However, confident in our ability we gather our stuff and set off, little knowing that this was only to be the beginning of a chain of events that would culminate in sheer disaster.

We reach in time and move back-stage to await our turn on stage. The heat is oppressive, and the sun is in our faces - conditions hardly ideal for a performance of any kind let alone a musical one. But surely their effect was only too trivial to be of any consequence to our performance ?

Our turn comes and we go in. The crowd gather up expectantly - the news about our practice sessions had spread pretty quickly it seemed. We start setting up. I plug-in my guitar and receive my first jolt. Instead of hearing the familiar sound of a powerful guitar riff I am greeted with what seemed like a cacophony that jarred me to the bone. I am momentarily stunned. That was perhaps the last thing I had expected. And especially as I was using a high-end processor which was sounding great on the amplifier during our practice gigs. I wonder what we had done to deserve this. But this was no time to complain. I choose one of the patches and decide to give it a shot.

We are complete with our setup and start off with our sound-check. The problem persists. By this time I am at my wits' end - the clock is running down, I am faced with a processor which would have left quite a few pros clueless, and we are about to attempt songs which must be among the most difficult to be attempted in the competition so far. I decide to soldier on.

We start off. Things seem to be going ok, we are well into our first song and I start off on my first solo and receive my second jolt. There is practically no sustain on the guitar, which means that the slightest muted note would cut-off the melody instantly and would be painfully apparent to all and sundry. The sun is mercilessly beating down on us, and sweat is pouring out of my body. The pressure is intense. The only good thing about our performance is our drummer who is in fine fettle. Before the third shock that is. In the middle of our second song his double bass pedal gets loosened and is rendered ineffective.

What followed was perhaps one of the most sorry spectacles seen on stage for a while. Here we were attempting some of the most difficult songs on stage and coming off looking amateurish at best. Our dreams of great things that awaited us was ground to dust in a matter of minutes, and soon we found ourselves trudging back to our hostels in a dazed and shell-shocked state.

I am a strong believer in the saying that everything happens for a reason. But its at times like these that I seriously begin to doubt the truth of it.