The story of justice

It is so heartening to see such a massive public outcry and media coverage opposing the animalistic acts that took place in Guwahati recently. In what seems to be a moment of pride for the media, something that has given the people of India another reason to believe, I’d like to remind you all, especially those belonging to the fairer sex, about an incident that happened in 1990. An incident that involved a 14-year-old named Ruchika.

Ruchika Girhotra committed the grievous crime of allowing herself to be molested by a respected gentleman who happened to be an inspector general, whose name I shall not reveal, for it shall bring great amount of shame and disrepute to a man who has relentlessly served our country throughout his illustrious career.

We live in a country that believes in Karma and providence. The rest of the story justifies this belief.

The gentleman in question was the president of the Haryana lawn tennis association when Ruchika committed the heinous crime. Prior to the incident, the gentleman was popularly known as the policeman who happily played tennis on a clay court that was built on an encroached government land.

The gentleman was known for having an observant eye that effortlessly recognised talent and hand-picked Ruchika, a promising tennis player, for special practice. In connection with this, he asked Ruchika to meet him in his office. There he casually molested her. The extremely disobedient Ruchika made a big hue-and-cry of the small issue and complained to her parents about it. It is blasphemous to report any form of molestation in India, to anyone including your parents. Our scriptures are full of stories that highlight the consequences of blasphemy. Poor Ruchika probably didn’t read them properly and hence had to pay the price, quite rightly at that, for having committed the unpardonable crimes of 1. Allowing herself to be molested. 2. Reporting the same to her parents.

The parents, like fools, tried to drum up support and question the powerful gentleman in question. The gentleman then realized that it was high time that he swung into action and did something about the egregiousness on display. He called friends and well-wishers from his caste and intelligently coupled the sheer weight of their populated presence with that of the power oozing from the chambers of political muscle he had access to. The assembled group that had divine intentions and the backing of ex-MLA J S Tikka, protested democratically by raising slogans in front of Ruchika’s house.

All good men enjoy the support and blessings of the higher authorities. The gentleman in our story was no exception. He seemed to enjoy the unanimous support of all MPs, MLAs and CMs from his state, regardless of the party ruling it.

Lesser mortals don’t deserve education. The “Sacred heart school for girls,” Chandigarh, which has sacrosanct milk overflowing from its apposite name, realized the truth behind the preceding statement and immediately expelled Ruchika. Some bastards tried to prohibit the school authorities from doing the right thing. Unfortunately, the school authorities had to incorrectly accuse Ruchika of not paying the fees and expel her. The immoral acts of a few miscreants sometimes lead to revered institutions having to stoop down to levels not down to them to restore justice. This was one such event.

After her dismissal, Ruchika confined herself to the comforts and company of the four walls surrounding her in her room. She unjustly protected herself from being followed and abused by our gentleman’s henchmen. But the gentleman’s saviours and the guarding angels of divine justice on this holy land realized that Ruchika’s father and brother were also partially responsible for Ruchika growing up to be the vamp that she is( ‘was’ actually, but let me finish this part first).

So they framed false cases against Ruchika’s father and brother. Five cases of theft were filed against Ashu, Ruchika’s 10-year-old brother. Ashu was also subjected to continual physical torture. His feet were tied with a weight. A roller was rolled on his legs and thighs. While still in illegal confinement, Ashu was taken to his house and beaten mercilessly in front of Ruchika by the gentleman. Ashu was paraded in handcuffs in his neighbourhood to elucidate the evils of messing with a reputed gentleman to the commons. The benevolent gentleman took mercy on the little boy by not acting according to the garudapurana which demanded tossing the boy into boiling oil.

The gentleman however kept Ashu in confinement until an act of cowardice on Ruchika’s part unfortunately necessitated Ashu’s release. Ruchika committed suicide by consuming poison. Men of justice rarely get a reason to rejoice and celebrate. The gentlemen finally got his. He threw a party to celebrate the occasion!

The witnesses and people who sympathised with Ruchika got what they deserved. Aradhana, Ruchika’s friend was threatened so much that she married and fled to Australia. Attention seeking lawyers who offered to take up the case for free were filed under some case or the other immediately. The witnessed were accused of being Ashu’s accomplices and filed. Ruchika’s dad, a bank manager, was accused of corruption and rightfully forced into a job he deserved to do for a living: Earth filling.

Justice finally prevailed after sometime. The gentleman, after all the embarrassment, was promoted to the post of an additional DGP and was later nominated for a presidential honour. Most importantly, the case was dropped and it was party time again.

Loud talking media-heads, CBI enquiries, adjourned verdicts, 16 prosecution witnesses, parliament debates, one suicide and 19 years later, the gentlemen was grilled. He was promptly sentenced to 6 months of rigorous imprisonment and was slapped with a fine of a monumental Rs.1000. Thankfully and predictably, justice prevailed. He was seen chewing paan outside the court, 10 minutes after the judgement. He had received a bail from the judge, who had got into a property feud with the Girhotras in the 80S.

The gentleman lived happily ever after.

So my dear sisters, never mess with an influential gentleman. For all the badass girls who could have been in Ruchika’ position that are reading this, remember that nobody will help you, neither the media, nor the judiciary, if and when you mess up with a gentleman. The media especially will talk about you and make you famous. They’ll glorify your existence by repeatedly telecasting videos of you getting molested by gentlemen. Truth alone triumphs; the gentlemen from Guwahati will get away too.

 There have been instances in history when evil elements like Ruchika have succeeded. It has been when they haven’t had to depend on anyone, especially other men. It has been when they have turned to lethal weapons like the pen knife or the pepper spray. Gentlemen are wary of the independent, brave women; they are considered to be the embodiment of all evil.

For those wondering about the gentleman’s name, he’s called thevediya paya here in Tamil Nadu. I don’t know how the rest of India calls him.

DEIVA THIRUMAGAL: REVIEW

When Vijay of Madrasapattinam fame set out to make Deiva Thirumagal, I, for one, wasn’t too excited. Vijay could go on to become a film-maker of repute in the future,  but ever since he released the first feelers of this film he’s been busy telling people that “I am not Sam, I’m director Vijay; I have an identity of my own.”

I still remember watching the trailer for the first time during the interval of KO in a theatre. I could hear comments like “Dai over ah nadikaatha da”, “Kudutha kaasuku konjam jaasthiyaave nadikaraaney” from behind. They were basically echoing my feelings on the issue. Vikram is a class act, no doubt, but then every time I see his antics unfurl as the supposed-to-be-gallant-but -devastatingly-funny-Kandasamy, I wonder what happened to the Vikram who amazed us with a relaxed depiction in Dhool. Every time I watch scenes from Bheema, every time Lingusamy frightens me with those close-up shots of the macho man’s overgrown Biceps, I sigh and yearn a tad more to watch the slim and fit Vikram who gave me goose bumps with an effortless performance as an aspiring cop. Every time he goes Mambo-ma-mia with the garish voice of his on isayaruvi or sun-music, I can’t help feeling sorry for another fantastic actor who wants to be a Kamal-like-all-rounder. Kamal is a once in a generation magician gifted with just about everything, why does every frigging actor want to be a Kamal Haasan.

Every Vikram fan out there would definitely agree upon the fact that Pithamagan is the actor’s best performance till date. But I wonder if it’s the best thing that could have happened to the actor: ever since, Vikram seems to be pushing and punishing himself by working too hard for every movie; the casual, laid-back and the totally unfussy portrayals don’t seem to find a place in Vikram’s priority list anymore. Yes he came up with Majaa but we still didn’t witness the Vikram we know, did we? My facebook news-feed is full of posts and comments heaping praises on Chiyaan. But as an uncompromising fan, I have to admit that I’m far from satisfied. You have to watch Pithamagan again to discover the underplay and delightful subtleties that Vikram is capable of. And you have to watch “I am Sam” before you watch DTM to understand the degree of over-acting that has come from totally unexpected quarters.

Vikram owes his success as an actor to the directors he has worked with. Almost obstinate dedication to the roles he has played thus far has helped Vikram reap rewards. He has worked under the likes of Bala and Mani Ratnam, who certainly know how to make use of the best efforts put forth by an actor. He has faced commercial success under the aegis of Dharani and Hari, who certainly don’t belong to the league of Mani or Bala but are masters at mass attraction (that, if you forget their recently-released forgetful ventures). But I feel it’s a gross waste of talent and effort when he works under people like Vijay and Susi Ganesan. It’s as if Vikram wants us to notice his “acting talent” one movie after another. Is there no end to his portrayal of larger-than-life characters?

Coming to Deiva thirumagal, it’s actually Vijay’s (the director) autobiography with a tweak at the end. Vikram has reprised the role of Vijay, a mentally challenged with an IQ of a six year old and Sara, the small child in the movie who has been used a metaphor to symbolize the audience. The child is six years old because Vijay assumes the audience to have an IQ level on par with the child. Nasser plays “Gowravam” Sivaji’s grandson, the way he positions his mouth consciously to indicate his parental lineage is stroke of directorial brilliance I say! 

Vijay has employed various techniques to convey the message that he’s not Sam and that he is indeed director Vijay in disguise as Krishna, with an alarmingly low IQ level. First he ruins the most beautiful scene in “I am Sam” (the purchase of shoes for the kid); the characters sell their souls and manipulate their ideals if and when they feel like (Nasser and Amala Paul’s dad, cases in point. Not to forget Vikram’s change of heart in the climax!). Then there is the totally absurd, disturbingly cheap and crass comedy track featuring MS Bhaskar, his wife and Pandi. The court scene in the climax is an insult to “I am Sam”. What were Vikram and the kid behind those wooden bars in the court doing? And what was I supposed to do as they freely exhibited those circus-type antics? Without much choice and most predictably, I burst out laughing! I am often accused of being an unemotional, unfeeling *astard but this one was too hilarious to resist: only that the humor was unintended!

I wonder what would have happened if not for Santhanam and the two lovely ladies in the movie! The girl in the movie is super-cute and surely does know a thing or two about acting. Amala Paul’s got such an addictive pair of eyes and Anushka can act a bit I guess.( No I’m not talking about Shreya or Genelia) She doesn’t have much to do, but atleast she’s not annoying like the other leading ladies of today. And can someone explain the logic behind that song in the climax (duet?!?!?!) which arbitrarily pops up like an ICICI ad when one’s browsing a popular website? I felt like screaming Aala vidungada yabba!

Karthik Kumar, Tamil cinema’s aasthana American Mapillai has been given a makeover in this movie: he’s not an American Mapillai, but he’s just a Mapillai (cut American) in this flick! But yeah, a dismal fate awaits him as usual. Again, what a waste of talent!

Chiyaan, please! We’ve had enough of such rubbish. Take us back to the days of Dhil and Dhool or stun us with movies like Pithamagan and Sethu. We have enough actors to give such half-baked nonsense. (No, I’m not talking about Vijay (The actor. Hmmm, maybe I should rephrase.) ) And as for Vijay the director, please leave Hollywood classics and classy actors like Vikram alone. You will find actors of similar IQ levels (No I’m not talking about Vijay, the person who jumped like a Dolphin in Sura) in Kollywood.

STOP TALKING "LIKE" THIS

Blogging is one of my favourite pastimes and like any other engineering student gifted with eons of free time, I also spend a lot of time on the umpteen number of social networking sites that have professionalized the art of joblessness. As I was massaging my ego by letting the cheap pleasure of my status messages, blog posts and pictures getting “liked” by a lot of people get to my head, I was simultaneously pondering over the credibility of the same. Every time I scrolled down to check the news feed from then onwards, every time my eyes rolled over a positive comment, I started questioning the very reason behind the same. The idea of a selfless “like” or a “comment” seemed farcical to me.

The phenomenon of getting “good one” or a “nice piece” comment is more common on blogosphere. The network of bloggers and their relationships have been fabricated in such a way that the idea of individuality can be made to look obscure. For a blog to be noticed, the blogger needs to check out other blogs and comment in a hope that his blog may be looked into. Indian minds or minds world over for that matter, function lazily. So it’s only natural that a person may be tempted to ignore the post, gift the blogger with a “good one” comment or a “like” and get away. The ignorant recipient of the “like” love is thus flattered into checking out the liker’s blog! A smart fellow, on the other hand, may return the liker’s favour by re-liking the post without looking into it!

The phenomenon of laziness is negated by the length of the posts on social networks as the length is directly proportional to the amount of time to be spent on it. But then, there are other significant factors that influence psyches and induce the basic instincts of selfishness to an equal extent, if not more.  Gender discrimination is one (not the kind you get to see on TV though; exact opposite in fact).  

1.       The probability of a post getting “liked” increases if you are a female. It doubles if she is holding a newly born puppy or a teddy bear. It quadruples if the girl is cute.

2.       Boys have their own ways of attracting attention. Sympathy is the best way. Status messages that condole the death of a pet or a long message that elucidates the values of friendship and true love are most likely to get “liked” by girls.

3.       Other boys like the prospect of seeing a girl "liking" a status, so they "like" the same just like that, even though they don’t like it. Because they seem to think that a girl liking them becomes a possibility if and when the girl realizes the boy likes whatever the girl "likes". (Now that makes a good status message)

4.       Tagging is the most effective technique, irrespective of genders. For a post to be liked, all you need to do is tag a friend of yours. Now that friend’s ego gets massaged due to the fact that someone’s considering him/her important enough to be tagged. So he “likes” it.

5.       And then the most obvious and logical factor. The more friends you have, the more you are on the site, greater the possibility of getting attention.

Coming back to blogging, the possibility of a girl getting greater number of hits is higher because she is a girl. But then I’d still say it’s a man’s world. When someone likes a post or gives her a compliment, she can never be sure if that was for the post or her profile picture. Testosterone has always been mankind’s (not womankind: P) biggest problem! The same rule applies to a man too, but again the way the numbers function hits a roadblock of inconsistency here. You may not get noticed for your profile picture unless you’re Hrithik Roshan.

So what does it come down to? It’s a world of attention seeking rascals out there involved in a rat race. Why is it that I always seem to find an overdose of grace and excessive humility on social networking platforms? What happens to the “otha” prefixes and the “mairu” suffixes on FB? Why is it that I always find the Peter equivalents, even when the rest of the conversation is in vernacular? Why do we always have our best pictures as our DPs? I have never found a DP featuring oneself after getting a bad haircut done, though bad haircuts are quite frequent: not many talented hairdressers out there you see.

Negative commenting is an unknown phenomenon in the social networks. No one wants to call a spade a spade. Seldom does one feel the need to spit at a bad picture, seldom does one feel the need to condemn a shameless exhibition of private grief in public in order to evoke sympathy. Seldom does one feel the need to criticize a shoddy piece of work.

 Ignorance is the most popular form of response; every person is a Buddha at heart, as charming as the latest Bollywood sensation, as intellectual as Amartya Sen and as altruistic as Santa Claus. But conditions apply: only on facebook, orkut, twitter, buzz, G+ blah blah.

P.S: PLEASE LIKE THIS POST AND SHARE IT IF YOU LIKE IT. COMMENTS WELCOME! :P 

P.P.S: WHO DOESN’T LIKE ATTENTION? LET’S “LIKE” INERTIA AND STOP COMMENTING ON THE IMPERFECT WORLD. GIVE SELFISHNESS A THUMBS UP, +1 SYCOPHANCY!

The 10 “Oh my god” moments

I have always been a big fan of the small things in life. The big things don’t appeal to me: the big things that dad talks to me about. Career, academics, money, settling in life and the like. He often says “Don’t sacrifice the bigger things in life in pursuit of the smaller things”. The smaller things are street cricket, watching a D/N encounter on the day before the exam blah blah. These small things add a lot of colour to one’s life but there are “other” seemingly small things that irritate a person to the hilt. Things that make one go “oh my god, not again”.

1.       You get into a nice comfortable position on the sofa and start watching an epic encounter unfold between two of your favourite teams as your dad joins you and starts a conversation about the “big” things in life.

2.       You go to a marriage ceremony hoping not to run into a specific group of garrulous old ladies and it turns out that they are the first ones that you get to see as soon as you enter the hall. They start talking about how much you have lost weight and looked much healthier the last time they saw you. ( Ennada kanna, ippadi elashta? Hostel la sappadu nalla illaya? Konjam osanthurka polarkey?)

3.       I haven’t personally experienced the following OMG moment (because I’m not old enough just as yet) but I have heard about it from a lot of people. The amazingly vetti, good-for-nothing chatterboxes (mostly a gang of old ladies who keep complaining about a certain Ranganathan who married out of caste) that turn up for every single marriage that happens in town are the culprits again. The moment they spot a guy or girl of “marriageable” age, they waste no time in telling them that “Next nee than (you are up next)” in front of a group of teenagers lazing around with nothing to do.

4.       As the jobless teens burst out laughing and as you twitch and turn in embarrassment, the unforgiving descendants of Satan come up with another killer comment: “Aiyyo, vekkatha paaru (Ah, look at the shy look on his/her face)” The day these loquacious pests learn that it’s an expression of embarrassment and not shyness, the world would come to an end. But I came across this beautiful sms the other day, the perfect counter for all those evil ladies: just repeat the “next nee than” dialogue to them at funerals. That should shut them up once and for all.

5.       You visit a hotel with a bunch of middle-aged relatives. After a sumptuous banquet, you exorbitantly praise the hotel and the cook. The Maama(uncle) sitting right across your table says, “Enna irunthaalum veetu saapadu pola varaathu (nothing can come close to home-made food any day)”.

6.       You travel with your grandfather on a boring afternoon and plug in your earphones to listen to A.R.R’s latest. As you get mesmerised by the lilting music, your lips accidently start muttering the song. Your grandpa suddenly gets up and says “enna irunthaalum MSV, Bhagavathar paatu mathiri varathu (no musician can ever come close to MSV or Bhagavathar)”

7.       You go to a movie with your girl-friend and specifically ask for the corner seat at the counter. Just for the sake of re-assurance, you get it clarified with the guy at the counter three or four times. The saintly person on the other end gives you a warm smile and the tickets. As you enter the theatre, you find the allotted seats to be right at the centre of the hall, with a group of college boys hooting and whistling around the allotted seats.

8.       You head to Sathyam cinemas to watch your favourite movie on the first day after telling your parents that you want to get some doubts in heat and mass transfer clarified from your friend, only to find your uncle at the theatre. He coolly calls up your dad and tells him “Hey guess what, I’m watching my favourite film with your son.”

9.       You prepare for your exams according to the blueprint prescribed by your teacher and wisely omit a certain portion owing to lack of time. The sly guy comes up with a question paper with majority of the marks allotted to the portion that you omitted.

10.   You sing praises of the almighty for finding yourself opposite to a lovely lass in a reserved compartment. Just as you start Peter uttufying and kadala pottufying, a long lost friend turns up from nowhere and asks for a seat exchange with the girl.

CHENNAI RAWKS

My city Chennai rawks. You know why? Because we founded 2 important languages other than tamil: they are Tanglish which is tamil and engleesh kalanthufied and one more is madras basha, which is called that even though we’re Chennai(super kings). We often kalanthufy both to kalaichify those Peter anculs who always gaandethify us.

We also want to ushaar white gals like aadukalam Dhanush and ishtukunu run with her. We also want to ushaar getthu figures like his maamu baasha rajini who speed ah auto drives and corrects nagma. You don know maamu? Kamal telling in vasoolraja, u not see: raja calling raju, maamanar calling maamu. You kamal don’t know, then you’re dubakoor maamu.

 But these mokka peters come, speaking englees, vittufy gapsa, ushaar figures, do gujjals, gaja gaja and then kazhundufy. We are not like they. We are degent pellows, we don’t dabaichify and valchikinu run away without parent’s permit and license.

We rare drink quarter, penathify and pethify to them and finally become tight and matta. Why? To make them peel our peelings. they’re odachifying our idhayams, for them nogala? What they seeing in peter not in me? he is thairsatham, his face same to same as maida maavu. If i become gaandu i’ll take steel palupu and adichi moonji keenjilam keechiruven. Or acid take and throw on his mogarakatta. But why i not doing? Because me degent and serious love my figure.

If she want i coming talking to her naina, my maamu. I asked her ready-aa, ok-vaa? But she no. Semma bejaar pa that figure. Ok i not beetiful, no thuddu, live in gudsae she can ajjust no? So many things ajjusting in lype no?  my love serious annathey. See my hand. blade aala keeshtaen and write her name. She see and mersalaidichu, light-ah gaandaichu.

Yechusme i karichi kotting my peelings and you why no reaksen? I telling rightu no? You understand why she not understand? In cinema, getthu figure like tirisa and all kalyanam kattufying vijay no? She not see cinema i thinking, my petta pasanga also same thinking. In next janmam, i want to be born peteru ba, i’ll pray my kulasaamy. I will be mokka, poota case and drink milk, no quarter. But matter what means i getting my figure.

Seri wait kaindukaatha, i will stop mokka. why putting sceenu, you that big appatucker become ah? Seri machi lateaachu, oru quarter soltu appeat aavu. Taa taa..

BABA'S FAST: AN IPL TWIST

1st “Power” play: Baba threatens the UPA by expressing his desire to go on a hunger strike against corruption. Expects a capacity crowd of ten million people!

Strategic time out1: UPA high command gets into a huddle and UPA’s man for all seasons, their own version of Subramaniam Badrinath, Kapil Sibal is sent in to silence the storm.

Middle overs: Team Orange’s domination is evident but home team UPA manages to strike a few important blows. Uses decision review to protect a few of its important players like the PM!

“Citi” moment of success: There is no stopping the Baba! He storms out of the conference hall, raises his hand in triumph as an imaginary crowd goes berserk in front of him. The fast will go on as scheduled!

“Karbonn” Kamaal catch: RSS and BJP cheerleaders clad in orange are found waiting outside. They lure the Baba with their orange jerseys and a few black suitcases. CNN-IBN reports a 140 decibel roar heard from inside the Shiv Sena’s office. One sainik tells reporters that they have caught the big fish! Bewildered by the statement’s contradiction to the RSS’s pro-vegetarian stance, the reporter walks back!

Innings break: Singh Digvijaya, AICC’s glamorous host gets candid with the Baba. Baba talks about his modern thoughts and chronologically relevant ideologies like imposing a ban on coffee, tea and cola, directing homosexuals to asylums, ban on 500 and 1000 rupee notes etc. He stresses on the importance of bringing back black money stashed in tax havens. At this juncture, he gets a beep from the “left” hand side of the playground, a certain “Karat” who’s got nothing to do with gold jewellery, elucidating details about his “peace” island in Scotland. Baba puts his phone on silent and replies with a “ ttyl :x “!

2nd “power” play: Sadhvi Rithambhara, a renowned secularist according to the people on the right hand side who has made innumerable anti-Muslim speeches and was an integral part of a movement of supreme national importance (read babri masjid demolition), joins the bandwagon thus making it a perfectly non-communal movement! Home team launches a counter-attack: police forces swoop down on Ramdev and co.

Strategic time out: Baba sneaks out by wearing a salwar.

Off-field gossip: actor Vadivelu spotted in the crowd. Wait, he’s on the big screen too! Vijaykant’s number engaged!

Middle overs: Rebuilding phase for the Baba! Meanwhile a m(o)ody(i) guy from Gujarat refers to police action as an act of barbarism and ravanlila at ramlila!

Slog overs: Baba dares the police to arrest him. The orange gang arrives in huge numbers to condemn the barbaric act!

Result: it’s a tie!! Bring on the super over. Ramdev suggests a venue change: Haridwar!

Elsewhere in Chennai, a boy named Soupy: Machaan, if the communists and the BJP get together during the next elections, they’ll have two things in common with the gayle-dilshan combo. What?

Me: don’t know.

Soupy: both of them are potentially explosive and they’re a left-right combination too!

THE MUDDLEHEADS

We are fortunate to be living in an era of creativity. As a kid, I remember myself being a fan of advertisements blessed with catchy jingles. Advertisements weren’t in vogue those days. It was a period when the ad film makers and the IT professionals were not so cool, a period marked by a stark contrast to the economic policies that made Indians poorer and India richer. Now almost two decades after the “revolution”, here we are in the era of Zoozoos, with levels of creativity reaching dizzy heights.

But there are a few advertisements I stumbled upon in the recent past that made me think if the human race is travelling back in time to the days of the early men. I mean, how can a human being be so sterile in terms of imagination and creativity? The following is a list of ads that annoyed me to the hilt:

Docomo: I was highly impressed by the simplicity and the creativity in the Docomo ads initially. Be it the use of stick figures or the cute “tu toothu” jingle, everything worked for the ad. Then they slowly started overdoing it. They tried an emotional connect with an ad set in a train and it bombed big time. It used to be aired during the over breaks in the indo-oz series and I remember my friends booing loudly in the hostel common room every time.

But Docomo hit an all time low in terms of innovation and judgement by employing Ranbir Kapoor as their brand ambassador. Watching him onscreen is a pain in itself and I wonder how a sane person can possibly entrust this kid with the responsibility of endorsing a brand. Ranbir is supposed to be doing stand up comedy in this series of ads. How the hell did the makers find this funny? The people laughing in the background have to be retards of the highest order! And Ranbir, go drink milk kiddo. Try knocking on Amul’s doors. At the moment, you look like Docomo’s Zoozoo. It’s just that you’re not funny.



Idea: I have no idea how the makers of this ad could have made a front door entry into the world of ad film making. Film critics had unlimited fun mocking at his histrionics in Raavan in the hope that he wouldn’t try his hand at anything as silly as that again. He’s back with a bang though. People had the easy option of skipping Raavan but the nature of AB’s new Avatar is such that there is no way out. To add to the misery, as if one AB wasn’t enough, we get to see three Abisheks in the ad, as if one was not enough.



JK Lakshmi cement: This one is quite old but I’m sure it’s still fresh in everyone’s memory. Remember the horrendous sight of a pathetic model clad in a single piece bikini walking out of the sea towards the shore? I’m sure that not a single person who’s watched that ad has deciphered its relevance to the product and it doesn’t look cryptic either. If the idea was to titillate, why didn’t they go for a better model atleast?



Parryware: During the Wc, every ad maker wanted to capitalize on the cricket craze in the nation. This resulted in an atrocious series of ads. The worst of the lot was Parryware. I am out of words!



The aforementioned ads have two things in common: 1. All of them are horrible. 2. All of them shared the purpose of promoting their product and most importantly, they had a product to be advertised. But I considered excusing all those ad filmmakers when I saw these. No purpose, no product, what the hell is your problem? can't say these are advertisements, but what in the world are they?

KO- THE REAL STORY

Ko is this recently released Tamil flick that I stumbled up on while lazing around near the theatres this weekend. It is definitely not the run-of-the-mill story you usually encounter in Tamil cinema. Ko brims with novelty throughout and it strikes you right away as you run through the character sketching. It has a never-seen-before larger-than-life central character who happens to be a journalist, a hot chick playing a “loosu ponnu” character (@director sir: hats off sir! Originality reaches new heights, thanks to you), it has a damsel-in-distress, an aspiring student-politician, two corrupt politicians (Prakash Raj and Kota Srinivas Rao! Brilliant casting by the director. Instead of giving these central roles to accustomed faces, he has bequeathed the responsibility of donning these roles on actors who have never ever played similar roles in their lives) with zero civic sense surrounded by braided goondas and Tata Sumos, a witness who turns hostile owing to political pressure and so on.
The best thing about Ko is that, at no point is logic compromised. There are certain unbelievably believable scenes like the hero somersaulting in his bike as he captures thugs in action with his camera, the bike emerging brand new after being crushed to an excruciating death in the preceding scene, a character triggering a bomb as he flies off a podium in slow motion after being forcefully pushed by another, a chief minister single-handedly trying to handle an emergency as the police and the rest of the defence ministry gleefully concur to his orders etc... The songs by Harris Jayaraj are scintillating to say the least and at no point do they remind you of his previous scores. There is a mystic touch about his re-recording and two deaf people who came to see the movie also claim to have HEARD the background score! The editing is incredibly crisp and unlike other movies, the placement of the songs is extremely precise, compulsory in fact! Any director who doesn’t pack his crew off to a foreign locale for a romantic jig featuring the lead pair after a bomb blast scene must be a fool!
The unbelievable degree of cinematic uniqueness inspired me to find out details about the making of Ko, its maker and its characters. To my surprise, I discovered that KV Anand is a schizophrenic, a film maker who TRIES to behave like Shankar, Mani Ratnam, Murugadoss, Gautham etc at different junctures. He also has hallucinations about afterlife and is so obsessed and addicted to concepts pertaining to the same. He has this tendency of extruding and extending his thoughts to tinsel town as well. So all his characters are KV’s perceptions of what they would have been, had they been given a second chance to live on earth!
Jeeva’s character is “Muthalvan” Arjun’s afterlife. All his yesterlife Karma are settled in this life of his. Firstly, he didn’t want to become CM in his previous life though he wanted to live a life brimming with abundant political activity. So he safely plays second fiddle. Next, he didn’t like his parents meeting with an early end. Hence he prefers to “virtually” kill them than “really” bomb them to death by giving them not more than one scene. Thirdly, he didn’t enjoy riding his bike to a long distance village too much to meet his gal and so Manisha’s afterlife Karthika is made to work in his own office! Fourthly, he was seen in tears after the Sushmita Sen item number got over in his previous life. He so badly wanted her to be his second heroine in that life. So Sush is reborn as Piaa and gets to do the item number as well be the second heroine. So, it’s evident that there is a method in KV’S madness. Arjun’s spirit retains its core competencies and its soul is found to be very much intact though, strongly reaffirming the obsession of KV’s psyche with the concept of rebirth and afterlife. Jeeva is as passionate about photography as Arjun. He’s honest, young, vibrant and agile, thus confirming his origin.
Now coming to KV again, his pitiable mental condition is ubiquitous and glaring in certain scenes. Only, the naive viewer is so engrossed in watching the genius unravel onscreen that he fails to notice the unique psyche of the creator. While canning the first scene (the bank robbery), the director was seen to be behaving like Lingusamy. The director, known for his command over the language was found pronouncing the word action as “ak-san”, exactly the way Lingu is known to pronounce it! The sequence has been shot the way Lingu would have shot it: it’s fast, racy and its over before you know it.
Though KV exhibits shades of different personalities at different points in time, he is known to behave and act like Shankar most of the time. Every time he flew to a foreign location to shoot a song, he spoke, ate and even slept like Shankar it seems. The results are overwhelmingly visible in the picturization of songs: like songs in Shankar’s films, the songs are a slideshow of pictures that have been usurped from the downloaded winrar file “100 best HD wallpapers” from the webshots site and the videos of Jeeva and Karthika dancing have been superimposed over them. The glass sculptures, lush green meadows, the mountains and the rivers have been captured just as Shankar would have captured them. The director seems to have been in a state of mental trauma while canning the scenes involving participation of students in politics. He seems to have vacillated between Mani’s and Shankar’s characters.
Another facet of KV’s self is revealed in a scene where different students from different academic disciplines unite for a social cause. K sababathy, a veteran technician who has worked in every film that Murugadoss has directed, just sent me a mail stating that he saw Murugadoss in every movement, every twitch and turn of his, in KV when he was canning those sequences. K kanakasabapathy, another veteran technician from Gautham Menon’s camp recollects watching a “gauthamed” KV when he was shooting the college flashback scene and the song therein. K manikkasabapathy, KKK’s son, a sound engineer who has worked with Yuvan adds a new speculative dimension claims that he saw a glint in Harris’ eye when he was composing the college song in Ko which resembled the spark that he saw in Yuvan’s eye when he was composing “dosth bada dosth” for venkatprabu!
Finally, i’d like to add that the above article is meant to be very serious and has been published after extensive research. It’s as serious and sincere as KV Anand’s Ko! It contains nothing but the truth. I’d like to end this by adding some spicy and red hot breaking news that i received via sms just now: KV’s finalised the script for his next movie: its going to be a totally different experience for the tamil audience: it illustrates the rise of a poor low caste guy who speaks nasty tamil into a multi-millionaire after braving rich upper caste villains. Amazing, novelty is synonymous with KV sir! Kudos KV sir.