Y’ know, unlike many of my peers I wasn’t as pissed at the movie adaptation of 300 as I was genuinely amused by the slaughter of history, stretching the fantasy element, larding up the “Good versus Evil” visual aspect and dishonoring the unwritten Graphic-Novel code. (If there was anything annoying, it was the army of Pretty Young Things in the theater me going “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” whenever a Calvin-Klein underwear model jumps nine feet into the air and chops up a stupid Sand N*gger. “So gripping and emotional!”, I heard one choke. It’s true that the Battle of Thermopylae is one of the most inspiring stories of human steadfastness….. but can’t they see the oodles of psy-ops of the movie?! Even making allowances for the “entertaining” aspect that movies are supposed to deliver, the extra-spicy masala and the pompous psy-ops in it leaves such a bad taste in one’s mouth. If the viewer knew World History 101 and can ID right-wing Hollywood propaganda, I feel nobody would cheer for these so-called “last hope of free men fighting the barbarian East”.
Sighhhhh, that’s the new Mall-Rat DCH generation for you. Anyway …………….

I had read Frank Miller’s original Graphic Novel about a year ago and was pretty impressed by the colors and the truly rousing dialogs. The artistic liberties Miller had taken, the subliminal messaging and the implicit (and sometimes in-your-face) racism did not deter me from enjoying the experience…… after all he was the one who changed the campy Adam West-esque Batman into the dark, brooding Knight so excellently portrayed by Michael Keaton and Christian Bale. And he did that even before the God of Pop-Art, Alan Moore, brought out the excellent “Killing Joke“. He was the one that brought back the Film Noir genre with his Sin City nearly two decades after Roman Polanski’s Chinatown ended that genre with a bang. He maybe excused for a bit of pride in his Anglo-Saxon heritage (which has effectively claimed Green and Roman culture as their own…. now that the real Greeks and Romans have fallen so low in the pecking order). Well, to be fair he himself had said that he was influenced by the Cold war propaganda film “The 300 Spartans”.
Anyway, my beef with the movie is the jarring discordance whenever extraneous scenes and dialogs are woven into Miller’s core work. Lemme try to explain the discordance…… it’s something like remixing Rufus Wainwright’s emotional “Hallelujah” to Baba Sehgal’s inhuman, grotesque, fly-honey flashing “Tora Tora”. On such a dark daaaark note, let me begin my rather haphazard rant-review of the movie (and the the graphic novel). Oh, and as usual….. SPOILERS FOLLOW!

Before the battle:

The militaristic, eugenics-high, macho spirit of Sparta is established right from the beginning itself…… Mommy dearest and an old Doc inspects a baby for any deformities. If the baby had any deformity, the voice over illuminates us viewers, he would be thrown down a cliff where the bleached skulls of the less-than-perfect infants grin in eternity. The coming of age scenes would have given Herr GeneralFeldsMarschall of the Nazi Youth an instant hard-on…… and it can’t get any farther from the actual initiations of Spartans! As Nathan Lee noted in his hilarious, punishing review of 300, the rest of the movie has a Copper/Wheat Brown hue. Maybe Director Zack Snyder watched the “Elysium” scene from Gladiator one too many times…. there’s even the cute kid running through the wheat fields at the end. The approaching danger is well conveyed and the on-screen adaptation of this 1st part of the five part novel is quite okay. Things go totally Kaput when Queen Gorgo (played by a Lena Headey who apparently has a three foot pole stuck up her a$$) and Theron, the stock traitor-politician (played by Dom West) is pounded into the original storyline with the finesse of a pile-driver. I understand Ms. Heady was trying to do the “noble, spirited queen” routine but she hams it to the high heavens…… with her head always tilted 23.5 degrees up! You want “I’ll kick-your-Candy Ass” attitude, nobility and class oozing out of every pore, Ms. Heady? Try Angelina Jolie from Alexander, try Cate Blanchett from Elizabeth, try the great Irene Papas from The Message! Coupled with her tussles and “compromise” (for her husband onlee!) with the sleazy councilor Theron (who shall be here forth called Ummeron for he’s the best on-screen weasel sleazebag since the legendary K.P. Ummer lustily drooled so; “Sharade, njaan oru Vikaara Jeeviyanu….“), the respectable Graphic Novel is turned into one of Kanti Shah’s flicks. All that was missing was King Leonidas’s sister (Meghna Naidu in a yellow churidar) raped and killed by Ummeron in the Bazaar in broad daylight.
Another gross misrepresentation is the institution of the Ephors….. a governing council that was more than chummy with the King (except this one time when the King himself apparently betrayed Sparta) The movie as well as the novel portray them to be inbred, corrupt and lecherous lepers who select the winner of the Annual Miami Beach Wet T-Shirt Contest as their “seer”. So far it was Ladies Night with all those hunks in speedos and thongs and a nude shot of Gerard Mian himself, now the male audience is given their pound of flesh. Dudes can get an ishmaall show of a transparent negligee clad Miss. Dakini, probably Ms. Mandakini’s (yeah, she of Ram Teri Ganga Maili fame) long lost daughter, going into a trance under the influence of some really potent Pakistani Opium.

I feel the Queen’s character was expanded to beef up the “fair, democratic, liberated West” image as against the chauvinistic Asian envoy who is angered when a woman speaks directly to him. Oh wait, the messenger is a big, bad, black Afro Bro’ from the Krips Gang chapter of Babylon…….. not a Semitic as shown in the novel. Oh don’t worry…. Emperor Xerxes, nee Badshah Kshehyarshah (who in all probability was a typical Irani dude), is not an eight foot tall Black monster as portrayed in the book. Thank God for small favors. He’s a very “confused” eight foot tall dandy Latino homeboy (who shivers in orgasmic ecstasy as he touches the Hero), who’s got more gold on (and in) his body than seven Mallu brides. And check this out…. he meets the Greek’s Spandex Speedo challenge with a ridiculous golden thong! Well here’s a fr1ggin new tagline for you; “They were 300 black Speedos against one golden Thong”.
And our new Ummeron character? It helps to add in an element that tips the odds against the doomed protagonist….. it kinda magnifies the sacrifice and hence increases the “Heroic Halo”. Given the subliminal messaging against Iran (and Iraq) in the current contest, this may also be to flip the bird to the fringe Pacifists/Anti-War folks and win over the anglophone audiences. The traitor is conveniently dispatched off and the treachery is discovered….. the supposedly crafty councilor kept Persian gold coins hidden (where in his Speedo he kept them beats me) when he came to the council. But he didn’t die in vain my viewers…… he died after porking the noble Queen the night before. Yes, the noble Yavania Nari sacrificed her honor in vain to save her husband the hero and make him look more tragic…..
{PS: In the original novel she says just a few lines, including one of the best lines ever (which have been preserved through history). Check it out….

Leonidas sets out to meet the enemy….
Gorgo: “SPARTAN!”
Leonidas: “Yes, my Lady?”
Gorgo: “Come back with your shield or on it.”

In the movie, she gives him the “Heart of the Ocean”…… oh wait, that was in Titanic! She gives him something eerily like the “Nail of a Tiger” (Pulinakaham), prolly borrowed from Sathyan’s Thacholi Otheynan costume and dramatically looks away as her hunk king swaggers into the sunset. }

In contrast to Ummeron and the “Fairy” Xerxes is the noble martyr, King Leonidas of Sparta, ably played by Gerard Butler, an undeniably talented actor. Usually known for his well etched roles in movies like the breathtaking “Beowulf and Grendel”, Butler sheds all his cerebral image as well as most of his clothes, dons a crimson cape and becomes a powerful and imposing warrior. He delivers his lines pretty good, carries himself well and apparently has packed a few pounds of muscle for the role…… all’s well except for the part where he shouts out “Spartans, tonight we dine in hell” at the climax. Nothing wrong as such, it’s just that he sounded like a drunk Scottish fisherman then. Overall I must say he did much, much better than that pretender Colin Ferell’s sounding like an Irish bartender in Stone’s Alexander.
Some of the best lines in the graphic novel are the thoughts of Leonidas. The stoic and laconic nature of Sparta is fleshed out in the King’s astute observations…. The grim realization of the impossible situation he is in, the fate he’s leading his loyal men into, his self-composure and farsightedness even when the rest of his band lose their head and of course his final thoughts are presented as a voice-over. This takes a little shine off the Hero….. was avoidable IMO. They could have done it like Kevin Spacey’s touching voice over in American Beauty.
Another place where Gerard Butler falls into “filminess” is when he meets Xerxes for the first time. The original novel conveyed a sense of chilling dread and razor-sharp wariness from both sides….. but here the delivery is mocking. The original had Leonidas mocking Xerxes as well, but there was an edge to it….. here it’s like Rajnikant threatening one of his hapless undermenschen foes. I wish it was dealt better…. something like the “Sicilian Scene” from True Romance which I feel is THE benchmark for a confrontation.

Rodrigo Santoro plays the cartoon character Znyder and Co turned Xerxes into. The novel (though mis-representing Xerxes) shows him as a dangerous opponent…… out here he’s shown as a strutting peacock who whines like a 17 year old drama queen. He does not arouse fear, respect or awe…… first time I saw him on-screen I almost went “Hey, thats Big Gay Al“! Now Miller’s Xerxes had a voice that is “As smooth as warm oil on well-worn leather –and as deep as rolling thunder“. I must say they got THAT right in the movie….. I wonder if they had James Earl Jones do the dubbing for Xerxes. (Well, it’s almost Darth Vader minus the heavy breathing!) . The deformity of Evil vis-a-vis the beauty of Good is a commonly used visual art M.O…. but normally graphic novels do not adopt this method. It’s more grey rather than black and white, but then Miller as well as other writers like Garth Ennis are known for heroes high on absolutism. Still, they took it too far. Way too far…. AFAIK Iranis are mighty p1ssed. There was a Persian couple ( prolly students from People’s Republic of JNU ) a few seats away who went through 2 hours of incessant abuse heaped on Persia with stoicism that would make Leonidas proud. I wish I knew what they were thinking…..

Other notables include David Wenham (Faramir from LOTR) who plays the stock “bard”. He doesn’t have the look of other psychopathic Spartans out to kill and die in a blaze…. it’s a bit like Faramir who fights just because he has to. If Sanjay Gupta ever decides to be “inspired” by this movie, he would prolly cast the Bollywood icon of the honest young Indian, Madhavan in the role. He does the entire voice over….. and not a quite good one at that. There’s the voice modulation and emoting through the voice aspect that Wenham doesn’t quite get right. Pity.
Then there is Vince Regan who dons the sword and sandal to play yet another trusty 2nd in Command….. yeah, he played Achilles’s Secong in Troy too. He can act, no doubt…. and he’s given ample screen time too. The novel portrayed him as a grim drill sergeant who gets passing mention….. here he and his son are given more screen time.
The character Stelios is changed too….. in the novel he was a stumbling greenhorn who’s potential is recognized by Leonidas himself. Here he’s a more psycho version of Achilles seeking everlasting glory of a warrior’s death. I wonder what Yossarian or Doc Daneeka would have to say to that.
(PS: The grim reality of death as against all that stock yarn of Valhalla, Veeraswarga, Jannat and whatever is best shown in the witch-burning scene in Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal” and Gerard Butler’s own “Beowulf and Grendel”. In the latter, King Hrothgar (played by the great Stellan Skaarsgard) remarks “He is feasting with the Gods in Valhalla now” when he finds the body of a soldier killed by Grendel. Beowulf looks closely at the dead man’s face, warped by horror and agony and asks “Does he look like a man who’s going to a banquet”?)

The traitor Ephialtes can’t be more demonised….. in antiquity he was not a disfigured Spartan, just another Mir Jaffar or Shah Waliullah. Even Miller who committed the original sin cast him as a character we could sympathize with. However, Snyder and Co. would have none of that! Just a miff from the King is enough to set the monster against his own people. Unlike the novel where Leonidas deliberately tries to talk this sad Spartan to death (which Ephiatles tries but unsuccessfully), the goody goody film King offers a menial job to the cripple but the oh-so-evil traitor immediately sets off to the enemy camp. Get a load of this….. he warns the King of severe repercussions too but the noble king decides to guard the secret path with amateur Greeks instead. Oh, I forgot to mention….. there were 27000 Greeks from other city states in the battle.Only 300 Spartans and 7000 Thespians made the last stand at Thermopylae.

Now…….. someone please tell me WHO THE BLAZING F**K wrote in all that extra stuff? I sincerely hope he/she/they get trampled to death by fat Soccer Moms at a Walmart Shopping Stampede! It’s like the ghost of Ed Wood teamed up with Bashir Babbar and Brad Armstrong to deliver some of the most corny scenes of film history. Alan Moore publicly distanced himself from the film adaptations of his “From Hell” and “LXG” when he saw how much these lesser souls mutilated his babies….. what the hell was Frank Miller thinking when he read the final script?

The Battle:

An awesome (honest!) CGI heavy battle follows……. grillions of Persians, human/semi human and beast, fall to the Greek spears. Copious amounts of blood and guts splatter in all directions…. Spears are shaken, shields are splintered, it is a red day and heads fly like Frisbees as the Persians get a PWNED seven ways to Severnaya. There is enough blood to send Dungeon Master Mel ‘Mad Max’ Gibson into instant rapture….. apparently even the war elephants brought from Africa slip off the precipice ‘coz “The Persian dead are slippery”. Miller and Snyder push the envelope with uvaachas like “… and even the birds were complaining though they feasted on thousands of rotting human corpses”. Howzzat?
While Stone’s Alexander had battle scenes sticking close to what really happened back then, 300 is a Sword-Kata/bullet time/Spear-Fu extravaganza that makes Ultraviolet look like As you Like It. Even here you can see the dudes doing the “flying spear-stab” that Achilles did in Troy….. talk about “inspiration”! The swords look like Scimitars pinched from the Rudolf Valentino Memorial Museum….. nothing like the Greek short-sword they used those days. The Greek Hoplite was an armored infantry man who fought with a 9m long spear called Doru and a thick shield. He had a helmet that covered most of his face and a breastplate that can take a lot of punishment. Our heroes however believe in traveling light….. all they have is a black Speedo (armored too by the looks of it), Superman’s cape and the helmet ( ‘coz it’s kinda killer cool). Perhaps the oiled, rippling abs on lavish display can tiltilate or scare away the mighty Achaemenid empire.
I must say the battle scenes began by closely following the Phalanx M.O. The men close ranks, lock their shields and rest their spears through the gaps of the shield wall…. each man protecting the man to his left with his shield and using the spear (held in his right hand) to do the killing. The Persian shock troops ram against the steel wall, they apparently were trained at this by the DYFI (who has considerable experience in rushing at barricades and asking for a beating). The Greeks hold firm and push them back and when the enemy’s formation is broken, the Greek front lines break ranks, envelop the enemy and start scything into the enemy. Well and good from military history’s POV so far….. they keep the faith even when the Persian cavalry charges into them. Cavalry as well as War Elephants of those days had no chance against long spears UNLESS led by a very able General like Subotai, Khalid ibn Walid or Alp Arslan. The Spartan shields protect them from the showers of arrows released by whole battalions of Persian Archers. Now this was during the era preceding the Composite Bow/Double Recurved Bow which was used to deadly effect by the Parthian Archer Cavalry against Rome. Due to a multitude of reasons, the archers and artillery were not of any use in that bottleneck and Xerxes had to do it the long, hard way. Anyway, there’s a cool scene where the Persian arrows blot out the sun. This treatment was promised by a Persian general well before the war to which Stelios cooly replied, “Then we shall fight in the shade.”

{PS: Here’s a bit of Gyaan about the Phalanx aided by Peltasts (skirmishers)…… this strategy had worked so well for 500 years and like the Trench Deadlock of WW1, the one with best armor, hordes of troops, ample maneuver room and coolest head won. Quite a problem it was in those times. Then a Roman General named Gaius Marius, uncle (by marriage into the family) of a boy named Gaius Julius Caesar, revolutionized the Roman Army. He invented the Pilum, a one-shot javelin that is constructed so that it’s shaped head would pierce the shield if thrown at a certain range AND the 5 foot shaft of the spear would bend due to it’s heavy weight. The effect on the Phalanx was horrendous….. the Roman Pilum would slice into locked shields and bend making them useless in combat. The Phalanx desperately try to pry the spears off their shields while the Roman legionaries charge with the feared Gladius (short sword) and rout the Phalanx. It must be noted that the flexibility of the Roman legion against the ponderous Greek Phalanx led to Roman annexation of fair ol’ Greece after the Battle of Pydna in 168 BC….. Still the Phalanx continued to be in vogue for another 100 years (in Barbarian, Egyptian, Semitic and Numidian nations) till Gaius Marius and later Gaius Julius Caesar put an end to it.

Source: Caesar’s Legion by Stephen Dando-Collins. Highly Recommended!}

After this the movie enters the Twilight Zone. It was bad enough that the Persian elite force, The Immortals (a.k.a “Apple Bearers”) was shown as Ninjas with grimacing silver masks in the original novel…… here you have a LOTRish Cave Troll of a human chained by immortals, a bunch of unbelievable fly-honeys straight out off a Timbaland and Magoo video, a mean war Rhino, a troop of fr1ggin dumb Grenadiers (yes, in 480 BC!) dressed in Burkhas with silver veils, barbarians who look suspiciously like Zulu Impis and a humanoid executioner with axeblades for his arms. Pshawwwww…….. I almost expected to see an Imperial AT-AT blast the fair Greeks with it’s Laser Cannons! The ordered Hoplite S.O.P (Standard Operating Procedures) changes into mano-a-mano Matrix ishtyle Kung-Fu. I have read that even gutted soldiers would gather their intestines in their hands and push it into the wound and get back into formation….. for if the weak flank is breached, the entire Phalanx falls. Heck, Leonidas shooed away the crippled Ephiatles ‘coz his weak left arm cannot lift his shield to neck level and hence protect the exposed Hoplite to his left….. and now they all break formation and perform Tai Chi?
Well, I guess it’s okay if all this is just meant to depict a fantasy element. {After all, Hartigan and Marv of Sin City were shot multiple times and they didn’t even feel it! Dwight jumps down a skyscraper and sprints off without as much as an “Ouch!”! Kevin, who looks like an evil Harry Potter, moves like a cobra and devours his victims! List goes on….. but get my point on Frank Miller? Probably he himself wrote in these stuff into the movie to sex it up.}

Now the battle comes to a climax with the traitor leading the Persians down the secret path and surrounding the Spartans. The movie doesn’t show the 7000 strong Thespian citizen militia who died defending that path. There’s no mention of the traitor pleading (in vain) for mercy for the amateur Thespians… and certainly doesn’t show the intense pain and suffering of the wretched traitor at that point. The part where Leonidas lets loose his own “Parthian Shaft” is handled pretty well…… but still not half as good as that rousing scene in Braveheart where Hamish Campbell throws Wallace’s sword at the British Army. Even here the added masala element almost chokes you….. Miller’s original version of final thoughts of Leonidas is poignant, short, clear and wholly at peace. It is made implicitly clear (in the novel) that Leonidas was sacrificing himself and his men so that rest of Greece would get over their bickering, unite and drive out the invader. In the movie it sadly turns into something like the Black Knight challenging King Arthur in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”. Here you have Stelios holding the King’s hand and cooing sweet nothings before dying (Sean Bean’s Boromir did MUCH better in LOTR), the Captain drawing the Persian who speared him closer (by thrusting the spear deeper into his own body) so that he could kill his killer…… and meanwhile the Persian army apparently sits by twiddling their thumbs. I must say the Persian arrows violate all laws of common sense and aerodynamics…. you got arrowheads shaped like scorpions, swastikas, pentagrams and what not! I would trust those fancy “scary” arrows to kill a pig at 30 feet. The final volley which ‘blots out the sun’ (again) and kills the last standing man (Leonidas of course) is a direct lift-off from the climax of Jet Li’s memorable Wu-Xia classic, Hero. Of course, the master craftsman Zhang Zimou doesn’t show the gory arrow-riddled corpse of the Hero in a very ‘heroic death pose’….. please watch the movie to see how Zimou conveys a more powerful image (through an image that is an ‘inversion’ of that last shot of Toshiro Mifune’s (Macbeth equivalent) Washizu in Throne of Blood).

Themes and Psy-Ops:

In many cultures there used to be a quasi-religious rite where the faith of ‘faithfuls’ is cemented by encouraging hate against another community. In Kerala of late 19th cent-1921 there were the fiery Friday noon sermons which sent the (so far) peaceful Moplah community into frenzied communal hate and a few dozen would go out and kill a Hindu Janmi (Zamindar) or a British Collector till the army is called in. Apparently this was a spillover of Ahmed Barelvi’s call for Jihad (in 1831) and the embers lay there till the British put it out for good in the 1921 Moplah Rebellion. Mallus perhaps have heard of the term “Haalilakkam” which is today used to describe frenzy. Well, this is the etymology of that word. Similar to this is the old Norse “Berserkergang” and the Self-Flagellates and Passion Plays of the Medieval Church. This sort of this crops up whenever a war is to be waged in the near future or if the community is under some sort of pressure. The 1962 movie “The 300 Spartans” had obvious Cold War undertones and oodles of smug over-confidence…. the chauvinist movies of the GI and Baby Boomer generations, ably matched by the umpteen Osterns and Red Westerns churned out by the Soviets.
300 comes at a time when the “inheritors” of Greek Culture are poised against Iran, a continuation of Eternal Persia. Right now Persia might be under the heel of the clerics, but it has tremendous civilizational power of six millennia. There is of course and underlying “war cry” element in the movie….. one can make out subliminal messages like “The Army NEEDS you!”, “Chickening out will destroy our nation!” and “Support our forces serving in the East!”. Zack Snyder & Co. do their bit and blasts the audience with their own grating and in-your-face Propaganda via Ms. Lena ‘I need a Laxative now’ Heady and other characters. Here’s somethign else…… the war-cry of the Spartans “Aaaah Hooo Aaah Hoooo” is the US Rangers war cry “Hooo Aahhhh Hooo Aahhh” in reverse. Coincidence?
But then, I look at it this way…… it’s a Hollywood Movie and by God they OUGHT to play for their home team. Nothing p1sses me off more than our own deracinated leftist pseudo-secular Mehras and Dholakias and ‘Pornographers of the Poor’ like Deepa Mehta. (Of course I ain’t the “My Country! Right or Wrong!” type….. but you got to be objective! Not a self-loathing Macaulay’s Child with pretensions of “internationalism”) . So, it would be quite improper if someone like me whine too much and spit curses on some American’s chauvinism, right? Andaaz Apna Apna, no? Again, what rubs me the wrong way is Snyder & Co video-game they turned the original slick flick into.

Valerio Manfredi, author of Aish’s much awaited “The Last Legion” and the Alexander Trilogy (on which Oliver Stone’s movie is partly based) had written this novel called “The Spartan” long before Miller penned 300. This book, though fictionalized gives an apparently honest account of the lopsided Spartan society, the false pretenses of “democracy” and “free will” of the Greek City States and the complex relations between Persia and the Greek States ….. and it’s set in the period of Xerxes’s invasion too! The real Sparta was a bunch of militaristic roughnecks who were despised by the more cultured states like Athens and Ionia. Though once in a while they showed flashes of Laconic brilliance, they were quite wanting when it boiled down to brains. The lorded over a community of slaves called Helots, descendants of cultures Sparta conquered long time back. Strict order was kept by the use of a secret police who kept the Helots on a tight leash. Finally, with the rise of Rome and explosion of Helot population, Sparta declined and met an ignoble end at that hands of the Roman. One need not even go into the encouraged homosexuality and misogyny of Sparta…… that is a well known fact and it does nothing but divert attention away from the more relevant topics. {PS: In my opinion, personal preferences or norms of an ancient society cannot be judged by a rank outsider who enjoys the benefit of hindsight an 2500 years of progress from that point….. }
Given all this, the depiction of Sparta as a fr1ggin’ beacon of FREEEEEDOMMMMMMMM is simply plain old snake-oil. Any attempt at drawing a smug parallel with the present day self-appointed ‘World Polic’e fighting soul-less coons in the desert should be met with the disdain it deserves. Any argument touting “fair West” standing up against the lecherous, inhuman tyrant of Asia must be fought….. with history as our ally. Any attempt at Historical Revisionism (“White Man’s Burden” type) must be discredited at every opportunity. Oliver Stone tried to do the same Fetid stuff with his “Alexander”….. but since it was more cerebral than this video game-movie, even the shallow ones pry their minds off the “action” and see through the “Propagandu” (as a pal calls this sort of psy-ops). Snyder is smarter than that….. he cashes on Miller’s Sin City laurels and touches up the comic book gore-fest, adds a lot of gratuitous violence and other masala ingredients. The result is a slick hi-octane war movie which makes the lay viewer dangerously oblivious to the base “message” of the movie.

The depiction of Xerxes court as as a ‘den of vice’ harks back to Medieval views of Ottoman Turkey, Safavid Persia and Sultanate/Mughal India. The Orientals were thought to be a libidinous, godless people engaging in vile acts that excited as well as repelled Puritan Europe. The art galleries are chock full of their impressions of the Oriental Courts, i.e Emperor conducting his business with his pet Leopard on one thigh and a fiercer Mistress on his other, Sultan’s harems looking like the Playboy Mansion, a vile Arab inspecting a female slave’s teeth as if she were a beast of burden. A lot of it was true, I must say….. but definitely not in the degree imagined by the Medieval West. Behind all this “disdain” was perhaps the realisation that there’s a good chance the West would be overwhelmed by the numerically superior and quite older Orientals. Numerous times have this sort of fearful backlash adversely affect Global Geopolitics.
It’s sad to see Khshyarshah’s (Xerxes) military camp made out to be a bubblegum-pimp bordello with disfigured Lesbians, transsexuals and assorted pornstars and playmates. This was a man who made an able woman named Artemisia the Admiral of the Persian Fleet in the Battle of Salamis, an Emperor who married Esther the Jewess, a King was praised in the Old Testament for his wisdom and tolerance and a king who followed his forefathers dictum of respecting all religions. He might have had notions of invincibility and had an arrogant streak (hey, he was the absolute ruler of the greatest empire of his time!), but surely he doesn’t deserve all this abuse heaped on him.
{PS: Talk about Judaism….. isn’t Yahweh called “The Lord of Hosts” by Jews? In the movie you have a Persian general address Senor Golden Thong by this title! Anybody got a theory? I wish to think this was simply unintentional and not in any way an anti-Semitic expression.}

Finally,
One thing we Indians have to keep in mind is that the movers and shakers of America have a powerful force-multiplier in the form of the Anglophone Media. One adverse effect of Liberalisation is the deluge of this sort of KulturKampf into the Indian’s mind. For example, programs showcasing military prowess of the US makes one feel the Americans are simply indomitable and they possess 23rd century technology. BBC South Asia desk spins the Kashmir Story into a spineless cheerleading for Pakistani interests….. a certain Indian news channel is trying to sabotage indigenous research and development of defense systems by whipping out “instant success stories” of the west. The convergence of POVs of the Indian public (especially the upper middle-class and up) and the Anglophones creeps into the red zone. Our trade and commerce show some signs of being too controlled by the American leverage over Energy and Technology transfer. Nope, I ain’t one of those Bajrangis/Knickerwaalahs ‘outraged’ at Bharatiya Naris wearing jeans and skirts and preferring basketball to a wholly ‘Desi’ Gili-Danda. Attire and personal life/choices are private matters which, in my opinion, can be chosen even from alien cultures…… but it’s when you ideologically ’submit’ (maybe even unintentionally) to an alien culture/POV that the country faces grave danger.
Movies like 300 do their bit in nudging the average Indian towards accepting a wholly Western viewpoint and abandoning our immediate neighbors and business partners (Maybe the makers of the book/movie have no such explicit aim…. still, the damage would be done). All this just because Hollywood production values are quite impressive! The change would not come overnight…… but I cringe when I hear the “Khoobsurat Log” fr1ggin’ parotting American views on the World Order in “We the People” ( leave alone teen aged PYTs cheering the Spartan 300). Whatever happened to an INDIAN world view and INDIAN interests? It’s either the extremely pro-west ‘Main Bhi Madonnas‘ or their compatriots from the other end of the spectrum, viz. Commies (again a transplanted ideology now worn on the sleeve by a psychotic enemy state) who take up all the sound bytes.

Conclusion:

The movie earns a six in a scale of ten…… that’s like three stars.
Points are earned for impressive CGI, conforming to the original to a good degree, eye candy and production values, and a couple of good perfomances. This movie earns the thumbs down for blatant racism, added masala, retarded (non Miller) dialogs, ‘historicide’ and bias.
You wanna enjoy a mindless action flick, go for this. But if you are touchy/knowledgeable on History/of Persian ethnicity kind, stay at home and watch Jason Statham’s ‘Crank’ instead. Trust me, you’ll lavv this flick!
Ciao!

“Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves,
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves!”

So goes that famous “Rule Britannia” rhyme, THE marching song of arrogant Victorian imperialism…. The smug mantra that drove the sons of greatest empire the world has ever seen,confident that the sun will never set on their rule. Well, the sun did set indeed when a saint from India and later on an evil psycho from Germany challenged Britain, each in his own unique way. And now, the UK is a pitiful poodle state to the United States, a “has-been”, an “Aunty” to Uncle Sam, floundering and imploding due to it’s three hundred years of bad Karma. (Tsst. This post ain’t gonna talk about “Perfidious Albion” or bore you folks with my tirade against them Brits, who I have a MUCHO GRANDE GIGANTIC problem with…… just let me make an introduction on a personal note, wokay?). Given their glorious history and all that jazz, it amuses me, sometimes in a surreal way, whenever I encounter any work of art (movies/music/literature) which portrays a dystopian or even an ugly, defeated England. The first time I enjoyed the perverse delight was when I watched Ian McKellan’s Richard III eleven years ago…. I got further doses with Orwell’s incomparable “1984″, Robert Harris’s “Fatherland”, Michael Caine’s gangster movie “Get Carter”, Alan Moore’s epic graphic novel “V for Vendetta”, Christian Bale’s fantasy sci-fi “Reign of Fire”and Alan Moore’s recent work, “Albion”.
Now a few hours ago I watched Alfonso Cuaron’s latest movie, “Children of Men” which came highly recommended by a pal of mine. This film is set in a dystopic Britain (yaaaaaaaaaay!) in a bleak near future where a pandemic obliterates every last child and render mankind totally infertile. Now this is where the similarities to Ms. Phyllis James’s original novel effectively ends….. Curaon’s contribution is in converting this run of the mill sci-fi into a deep, layered and sensitive work of art. A movie where each shot make us think, if not shock one outright. This time the picture of a bleak, chaotic Britain didn’t make me feel ummmmm, delighted; the themes were too painfully obvious, the “possible near future” too close for comfort, the threats and violence depicted too close to home and the shade of the whole world a tad too grey……………….

{PS: Possible spoilers and give-aways ahead}

Themes:

Britain is shown as the “last surviving state” in a world that has fallen apart on Govt. propaganda….. this is actually a tribute to the tyrants of Moore’s “V for Vendetta” parotting “England Prevails” in a world that has gone to shit! The hounding up of refugees, derisively called “Fugees”, is also similar to Alan Moore’s racist Norsefire Govt. in V for Vendetta rounding up every single non-caucasian and sexual-deviants (LGBTs) in Britain into death camps and silently eliminating them all (some of the most disturbing scenes in visual pop-art are found in V for Vendetta, set in the Larkhill death camp). Apparently the rest of world has gone mad with despair and violence and apparently, “Only England stands”. Now the image of a Britain standing ALONE in the face of great odds will strike a chord in hearts worldwide given their stoic defiance in the face of seemingly unstoppable German juggernaut…… those two tense years where neither the US nor the USSR was around to fight the Nazis. This epic defense was maintained by a very caring, concerned, efficient and courageous British Government who actively supported and involved their own citizens. Curaon imaginatively twists this motif by depicting a UK which “stands alone” but maintains order by “stamping an iron-heeled boot into the human face…. forever”, (as O’ Brian puts it in 1984). While that Britain of past acted as a rock of security for the refugees from the French revolution, the Jacobin terror and the German threat, Cuaron’s England rounds up anyone who “doesn’t have papers” in a manner that would give Yezhov’s and Beria’s NKVD a complex. He underlines the point by having illegal immigrants packed tight in steel cages and even inserts a surrealy brilliant device by having an old German lady pleading piteously in her cage…… the Holocaust in reverse, anyone?

Before I go any further, please don’t get me wrong….. I ain’t one of those professional bleeding-heart peaceniks/Wagah Candle-Kissers/Indo-Paki bhai-bhai ultraliberal types croaking “make love not war” ………. nor am I an extreme right-winger bitching at Senor Cuaron for “scaremongering” and deriding “homeland security”. As I understand it, Cuaron wants his movie to be a mirror of today’s societies by extrapolating the fears and the threats faced now, into the near future. Richard Kelly, the talented Trojan who made the ABSOLUTELY MYSTIFYING Donnie Darko tried to do this with “Southland Tales”, but falls short in the process (sigh!). Cuaron walks the tightrope between the two extremes with aplomb, presenting a honest take on today’s clear and present dangers, viz. Islamic Extremism, the retaliatory extremism it gives birth to and illegal immigration. The sci-fi aspect of loss of infertility and the race to “Shangri-La” is but a McGuffin. I believe that all the race for the cure, the “Human Project” techno-myth is the last thing in Cuaron’s mind while making the movie….. What is subtly stressed all throughout the movieare the individual and societal aspects/themes like hope, faith, chance, loyalty, redemption, demagogy, extremism and false messiahs.
Anyway, the film ostensibly points to a future where Enoch Powell’s nightmare, an England run over by illegal/legal aliens who have set up a million Bradfordistans have probably “forced” the Govt to crack down on them with extreme prejudice. Mirroring the Brazilian Death-Squad cops method of liquidating EVERY undesirable (including orphan children so that they wouldn’t grow up to be another Red Brigade. Anyone seen the true story “City of God”?) or the more famous Neocon/Chickenhawk dictum of “Kill them ALL, and let Allah sort them out later”, they descend upon the immigrants mercilessly, kill them or strip, hose, pack them into carts/armored buses and put them in a city that has been converted to a concentration camp. Now, a whole city as a jail ain’t no new concept…. Kurt Russel’s “Escape from New York” and “Escape from LA” have already fleshed out the ultimate WASP fear-fantasy of minority-crime ridden cities. The morbidly funny thing here is that Curaon chooses a quiet, popular British resort viz. Bexhill-on-Sea as the death-camp city! He turns that beautiful city into a grim, run down, blood-splattered and pock-marked hell-hole reminiscent of Gaza Strip or Sarajevo. To top it all he has an Intifada like uprising in that city with crazed immigrant mobs lustily shouting “Allah Ho Akbar”, shooting AK-47s into the air and a British Army and RAF that does obliterates them all a-la Sabra-Shatila….. the final destruction shown on screen as a silent, distant flash of light.

Unlike Moore’s “V for Vendetta” there is no hero, no Robin Hood who fights the tyranny. The “liberators” are as scheming, opportunistic and merciless as the ones they are trying to overthrow. Cuaron’s message with respect to violent resistance/insurgency/terrorism “to rid their own people from the evil oppressor” cannot be more clear. The peaceful, diplomatic and (rather) non-violent path to emancipation is shown to exist in these groups as just a tiny majority…… a POV that will be silenced by it’s own (impatient) “friends” who WILL disagree. A cursory look at all insurgencies around the world shows this to be true…. be it Palestine, Tamil Eelam, Ireland or whatever. (PS: This once again reinforces my understanding (and gratitude) of the grand plan of the Indian National Movement and why we Indians are right here, right now while other similar nations simply laid down and died). Also depicted in the movie are corrupt, profiteers who takes advantage of people’s dire misfortunes and great tragedies, be it his/her own people for narrow interests. James Clavell’s “King Rat” and Art Spiegelman’s “Maus” has excellent specimens from this loathsome genus, the profiteers featured here are as amusing as revoltingly evil.

In spite of all this filth and darkness, there is that last, timid entity Pandora released into this world….. hope. While this is a hope for humanity as a whole, a chance to reboot society without repeating old mistakes, the theme of that sliver of goodness in the individual human heart is conveyed quite touchingly.

{Note: Major Spoilers ahead…}
In the climactic “Bexhill Intifada” battle scene with high-caliber bullets and RPGs flying all around, the long missed cry of an infant draws fighter, traitor and cowering bystander together in a trance. Not minding the bullets cutting into their bodies and felling their near and dear right next to them, the doomed ones reverently adore the first child born in twenty years. Even the hardened soldiers who have stormed the building to kill every living thing on sight stops in their tracks surprised (and relieved) in hearing a baby cry. Former enemies give way so that this symbol of new hope can escape all this carnage; a communications officer ignores the frantic orders in his walkie-talkie, a few soldiers fall to knees praying and a grim Sergeant almost goes into tears.

At this point I was beginning to wonder if Cuaron was stretching the point…. ruining a perfectly good movie at the climax. (Like Mani Ratnam’s “Bombay” ending cheesily with rioters across the city hugging and doing a “Hands across India”….. an artificial saccharine-sweet sermon and make-believe that offends history as well as one’s intelligence! The cynic and “man of the world” that I am, I almost booed in the theater! What next, Dawood Ibrahim giving a sensuous Thai massage (with “happy ending”) to Bal Thackeray as the end credits roll? WTF?!)
Not Alfonso Cuaron! No folks…. definitely not! Just as the protagonists walk away with the baby as the masses numbers of soldiers and insurgents part like the Red Sea before Moses, an RPG rams into the group of soldiers followed by heavy gunfire from the insurgent holdout (where the lead characters had been hiding moments ago)….. Hey, it’s business as usual! The soldiers return fire as the protagonists escape and the former use their overwhelming firepower to flatten the building (which contained many women and children by the way). For added insurance, they call in an air strike which is witnessed by the protagonists as they escape. Oh “escape”?! Did I just say escape? Well…. n what did I tell you about hope?

Loyalty to one’s friends or a higher ideal, courage in the face of the greatest dangers and unbeatable will are the other themes. I have seen some pretty touching death scenes on screen…. from Rakesh Khanna in Namak Haram to Donnie Darko’s sacrifice (to the tunes of “Mad World”) to that BEAUTIFUL “Sicilian Scene” in Tarantino’s True Romance where Christopher Walken and Dennis Hopper palaver to the lifting tunes of the Flower Duet from “Lakme“. Yet, Michael Caine’s defiant and yet wholly-at-peace sacrifice, the doomed soldiers and insurgents who “adore the baby” in the holdout just before the final carnage resumes, the guide who refuse to accompany the protagonists lest she slow them down…. and finally the last and most redemptive sacrifice of them all are quite inspiring.

As Curaon himself points out, the “seeking yourself road movie” aspect (like his previous, well known Y Tu Mama Tambien) and the Christian Nativity theme are also quite apparent, yet these are not the overriding themes of the movie. The total loss of faith in everything (due to a personal tragedy) is what characterizes the hero while loss of faith in the traditional church depicted by the rising Hindu/Neo-Pagan rituals (some of the main protagonists always chant Sanskrit Mantras and the final credits end with the “Om Shanti… Shanti…. Shanti” mantra). This is contrasted to the self-flagellations of the extremist “hellfire” churches. I expected to see a march of the self-flagellates a-la Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal” but Curaon must have deliberately chosen to avoid that iconic and well-known visual. Given the Opus Dei, Tablighi Jamaat and assorted types running around even in these relatively peaceful times, one wouldn’t fault Cuaron if he showed something stronger and in-your-face. Yet he wisely decides to concentrate on the more important messages of the movie. (This facet depicts which way human faith could turn if mankind faces a mortal threat…. some lose faith, some dig in deeper while others seek alternate answers. Judaism during the exile and the holocaust is an excellent base reference, but I probably shouldn’t go deeper into it here….. maybe another day!)

The performances:

Clive Owen plays the lead character Theo, a former activist turned weary bureaucrat and former husband of Julian (played by Julianne Moore), who is a wanted “enemy of the state”. She happens to be the leader of an insurgent group called the “Five Fishes”, fighting for immigrant rights among other aims. Moore has only a cameo appearance, but being the veteran actor she is, the character is handled quite competently. Owen is an excellent actor and like George Clooney he sincerely tries to subdue his rugged coolness while playing harried, defeated characters. I must say he does succeed in this attempt! I knew he had it in him when he played the middle class dad hounded by a blackmailer in “Derailed” (now remade in Tamil as “Pachakkili Muttham” by Gautam Menon)… he hasn’t let us down this time while playing a lost man in a dark world, trying to redeem himself. The sheer will displayed by his (otherwise “don’t give a shit”) character on knowing the nature of the task entrusted by his wife and realizing whole humanity’s stake in it is laudable. The “ordinary man made into a hero by extraordinary situations” theme is treated competently by both Cuaron and Owen.

Chiwetel Ejiofor is another vastly talented actor roped in by Cuaron…. now this man has one of the kindest faces I have ever seen. The role of a most wronged character in “Dirty Pretty Things” for instance could not be better portrayed by any other actor. However, he has shown his brilliance in playing supremely evil characters… his portrayal of the sadistic Detroit gangland boss in the gritty “Four Brothers” and the fanatical Govt hit man in “Serenity” were quite a revelation. This time he plays Luke, the 2nd in Command of the “Fishes” who ascends to power after Julian goes out of the picture. While Julian is guided by humanistic notions and ideals which transcend politics, Luke is the militant… perhaps an anarchist or an opportunist who who wishes to use the “grail of mankind” for his own political purposes. He disposes off the voices in his organization which call for diplomacy and non-violence and relies on the gun to settle things. The cold, scheming “villainous” nature is hid by a mask of idealism, sincere loyalty and kindness. And perhaps he is not a villain at all, he may have felt the ahimsa marg will not work this time in a Britain gone rabid. Perhaps the people would rally only under his new banner and overthrow the reigning tyranny…… Since a good number from the insurgent group (long time compatriots of Julian) supports his conspiracy, perhaps Luke was right all along. The decision he made with respect to his former leader doesn’t entitle him to the “evil usurper” tag methinks….. I for one dunno what turmoil might have reigned in the Mahatma’s or Nehru’s mind as they led fellow satyagrahis into possible death during the many Satyagrahas…. or for that matter what was going on inside Mian Osama Bin Laden’s mind when he decided to assassinate his guru and mentor Abdullah Azam. It’s lonely at the top and you have to make such tough decisions all the time…. Luke’s final conversation with Theo and the last shot of a wounded Luke fighting the troops makes you wonder what to really think of him. No Karmic retribution for the “villains” nor any gruesome death….. even the murdering albino-psycho (one of the only two true villains in the movie) who hangs out with Luke is not shown getting cut down by Karma’s unforgiving scythe. His end is shown as a part of the general climactic carnage, not even an afterthought is given.

A newcomer named Claire-Hope Ashitey plays the young refugee Carribean who carries the “grail of humanity” in her womb. Her portrayal of the foulmouthed, guttural Kee who is quite uncomfortable with the burden which fate cast on her is indicative of serious talent….. the accent she picks up for her role is authentic BTW. Kee’s streetwise intelligence and dry humor and the trust she places on Julian and Theo would make her perhaps the best person to look after humanity’s last hope in a dystopia like this one.

The incomparable Michael Caine turns away from his established image and plays Jasper, a neo-hippie who was once a celebrated political cartoonist. That phase of life was till Britain ceased being a democracy and turned the state into an oppressor of the people. In fact the IB equivalent of Britain, MI-5 had tortured his wife (once a famous photo-journalist) and turned her into a catatonic wreck…… perhaps for stumbling into some skeletons in the the Govt’s closet. Michael Caine played the lead role in the cult 1976 gangster movie “Get Carter”, a movie which was pilloried by the lay public and most British critics for it portrayed crime and poverty-ridden East London. the dark side of Britain was perhaps first shown in this movie… remember that the stiffs are very sensitive to this kind of portrayals. Case in point; Brighton Rock, Braveheart, The Patriot, Lagaan and Elizabeth. Each of these were severely criticized by Brits for it showed a side of England they didn’t (or could not) accept. Children of Men is shot mostly in East London for this very reason….. Cuaron himself says that this was perhaps the only part of London which ain’t a Potemkin Village and is devoid of any “glamor”. I wish he had been able to use the “Pakistani Emirate” of Bradford as his chief location instead… I’ve heard that lawless place is Mullah Omar’s wetdream, a real “High Noon in Dodge City”. But it wouldn’t be politically correct to say that in public…. and British Pakis ain’t exactly the Salt of the Earth! Anyway, good ol’ Caine is reliable as usual! His portrayal of a man whose services and inputs are not wanted anymore by the current state system (parallels to Orwell’s 1984 with Rutherford, the disgraced cartoonist who had ushered in the great revolution?) reduced to peddling narcotics and looking after his catatonic wife is…. bittersweet.

The supporting cast has done a great job…… the murdering young “Fish”, the endlessly blabbering Gypsy guide who turns into a real lifesaver, the corrupt cop ‘running’ the Concentration Camp, the Minister for the Ark of Arts and Miriam, the former OBGYN who escorts Kee are all well etched characters played competently by the ensemble cast. The Minister is an especially amusing and thought provoking character; was that cynicism at it’s pinnacle or was it some kind of suppressed, warped hope….. or was it a fond wish that humanity’s greatest creations would survive all the death and madness?

The overall movie:

The soundtrack is perhaps the best, well at least the most apt one I have seen in recent times. Some of the tunes are quite familiar and progressive rock is used liberally. I recognized some popular classical compositions too….. there is no underlying theme to the soundtracks like you have in “Donnie Darko”, LOTR” or “Walk the Line” but it perfectly mirrors the many themes and threads in the story. The original score refers to the nativity theme of Mary-Joseph and Jesus, and it was apparently made so following Cuaron’s explicit request.
Cinematography, costumes and editing is remarkable….. it IS a Britain gone to shit! Britain is a fascist tyranny down to the immigration officers brandishing truncheons, fearsome hunting dogs and assault rifles! This world ain’t the antiseptic, plastic dystopia of V for Vendetta and it closely follows the imagery of “Blade Runner”, “Brazil” and “Soylent Green”. The sad, grim atmosphere is reminiscent to the dust bowls of Soylent Green, the merciless British Govt is somewhat modelled on the surreal nightmare that was depicted in Gilliam’s “Brazil”, while the futuristic aspects are influenced by Ridley Scott’s “Blade Runner” and the amazing “Gattaca“. Unlike “Paradise Now” which has trace amounts of psy-ops showing Israelis as distant, emotionless phanatsms who lord over ‘untermenschen’ Palestinians, the “enemy” here is shown as all too human. Be it insurgent or British soldier, the human aspect is brought out pretty well…. starts off with long distance shots of human figures approaching to kill but they are “made human” in that climactic scene I talked about earlier.

Conclusion:

This is a must watch! “Phull 400% excellent onlee”, as our Jarnail Mian Pervez Musharraf would say. Most people would be familiar with Alfonso Cuaron through his “Great expectations” and “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” if not the classic “Y Tu Mama Tambien” starring Maribel Verdu….. however, this would be the movie Cuaron should be (and would be) known for. Fellow Sci-Fi heads, please cast aside the dystopic-futurism facet for a while and concentrate on the other themes of the movie. If you want a dystopia where a whole section of humanity is wiped off (save one “grail”) I suggest you should try the continuing graphic novel series “Y: The Last Man” instead. Everyone, please try to pick out what’s being said through this film. The messages are subtle, but they ain’t that cryptic. Nor does it have any pseudo-intellectual/pseudo-secular subliminal messaging like Parzania or Rang de Basanti. I believe this would be an enjoyable experience for the viewers…. I personally loved it so much that I came back to blogging after 4 months of self-imposed exile!

And The Wanderer’s grade?
Well…. I think this film truly deserves a 9 in a scale of 10 from moi. And that’s five stars (rounded off ).
Cheers!

Continued from Death Eater Part-I: The Horcrux.

Chapter II

A Clash of Interests

Varanasi,

February 1950

“Aditya, my dear boy, what possessed you to send that original signed note, document copies and original sample of Amarnath N/210723/AP/17 to Shri Vinayak Sharma instead of Devi Arundhati?”, whispered the snow maned Rudradeva to the young man who stood trembling before him. Rudradeva, a Sage of the Rishi class, Order of the Nine Unknown Men, was fidgeting with a fresh quill and he directed his question in that fatherly tone of his, but the addressee did not miss the steely edge in the voice…. nor was he not unaware of the possible consequences of his mistake.

“Master”, the apprentice almost choked, “the Mirror was being used…. I mean consulted by Parameshwaran from Control. He got there ahead of me and had this thick bundle of notes….. KumariKantam runes actually! I could have persuaded him to let me to address the Mirror and be done with my short task, but Shri Vepa himself was with him and….”

“Your trepidation is worth my time, AND yours, ONLY if it is on account of your foreboding on the consequences of……..”, the ancient Pandit’s icy retort was like the Chandrahasa, the Cleaver of Forts. Aditya completed the sentence on cue,

“…. the consequences of my MISTAKE rather than mere foreboding on what punishment might await me.”, Aditya finished the sentence and hung his head in shame.

“Good”, nodded the priest, ” at least something has been salvaged from this little fiasco. Probably that was another of those inspired yet misguided souls from across this new international border, but still…. They keep turning up regularly as you might have noted in your work here. Would have been hilarious if it weren’t so pathetic, eh?”.

“Yes Master!”, agreed Aditya vigorously, perhaps the Master is not totally disappointed in him after all. “They keep turning up almost dutifully, like clockwork! Pir Ali will never let the power politics of their Above World taint and misuse the Magic and the Below. Still, I fear what the future holds and what would happen if the missing artifacts from our old cities and shrines fall into the hands of our types who are less scrupulous.”

The old man noticed how Aditya almost winced while he said the last sentence. With a smile he asked, “Oh, and what ‘type’ would that be, young Aditya? Do these ‘types’ i.e the Warlocks and the Witches spring out of the follicles of some fell beast of the Nether? Do they have antennae sprouting out their temples?”

Aditya’s face went white as a sheet at this, “No! No, my Master! It’s nothing like that! Well…. you know Master, in my Above I did my degree at Roorkee. Moreover, I’m from a family of Aboves to boot. Generations of logicians and scientists at that too… these sixteen years in the Below haven’t yet made me comfortable with the realm. The formal education in the applied sciences has only confused me further. The modern sciences explain most of the known universe and yet I see this realm of magic…. a realm not parameterized by any known quantity; a realm which I myself am a part of. The hard scientist in me tells me all this is an abomination that which must not, by rights, exist at all.”

Rudradeva now closed his eyes, settled into the Padmasana and Aditya sat beside him reverently. “Listen, my son”, began the Master, “this realm and we who can enter this are defined by the ‘gaps’ in this plane, a plane which is just one of many planes….. We are those chasms which science cannot look into AND fears to look into….. We are those that exist in the Between; in the nether; in the spaces between the Paramanus; in the imperfections within the perfect; in the anomalies within the perfectly defined….. We are those that defy balance and defy physical laws…. we are what that was left ‘unbalanced’ from the primordial ‘chaos’ or ‘womb’ or ‘nothingness’, whatever the truth may actually be. Most importantly, we are all that is CREATED by the strictly ‘matter-less’ dreams, thoughts and ideas of the sentient. In short we are simply a stage of awakened consciousness. We are as much a part of the order of things as the Aboves, so smug in their hard science Kupamanduka are.”

“The truth is”, continued the Pandit after taking a brief pause to let the message sink in, “the ‘Nurture-Nature’ argument is of quite some importance for the former factor, obviously dominant from birth helps the person attain the consciousness and the power to enter the Below. This is why nearly all members of the ancient wizarding families, or families of the ‘types’ as you refer to it, do invariably have some degree of the ability. However, in some cases the ‘ingredients’ that make us what we are quite sizeable that these Aboves possess the ability from birth. In rarest cases, sufficiently driven and well guided Aboves who were not ‘blessed’ at birth awaken themselves via tribulations, penance, dark occult and even Hedge-Magicking. The ‘types’ from these above said categories of Aboves usually turn out to be more powerful (in fact some of the greatest among our ilk came from the Above) due to precisely this reason, son. This is again why unlike our more ’systematic’, ‘officious’ and ‘vetted’ counterparts of other nations, we do not discriminate nor ignore an Above who has the ability.”

“Talk about bureaucracy”, said Rudradeva, “I got this message from one of our ferrets at the Ghats last night. We would speak on the other matters at another time for Tauji has apparently picked up a most curious trace, a trace which he has marked as a “Clear All Lines” category! Tauji’s one of our most reliable field personnel…. a very experienced and powerful psychic who has watched that section of this city for ages. Therefore, I want you should look at it immediately and prepare me a full report.”, suggested the Master with the faintest smile.

“Me? A full report?! On a high priority alert?”, the youth exclaimed, “ But why? I am just an apprentice, all I have done so far is verify and triplicate analysis of senior functionaries, stamp and file documents…..”

“What’s your field of personal interest, young man?”, the sage cut in abruptly, smiling on young man’s truthfulness and naivety. Most of the brothers in the order, even the freshers, would grab this one even if they couldn’t tell Shambala from Shambara. Even the Below

Aditya looked a bit embarrassed now. “Western Magic, Master.”, he whispered.

“You need not be mortified at your own interest with me, Aditya”, laughed the old sage, “unlike most of our brothers and sisters, I am not so dismissive of Western Magick. In fact I am quite impressed at their progress in the last eight centuries. Their mastery over amulets and wielding is quite impressive given that they are ummmm, Greenhorns in this thing.”

“Many Wielders hailing from our own land, and even those from China and Persia mock their little hedge-magicking, the hilarious broomsticks they depend for transportation and most of all, their calisthenics with a piece of charmed wood to cast even the simplest spell.”, added the student, “They have wasted many years hiding from Inquisitions and lay mobs, they have wasted horrendous amounts of energy in charms and amulets without working on the Wielder’s own awakening….. Yet, I see much promise in them. On many occasions they have shown that they have a core of steel despite their civilizational youthfulness and other failings….”

“The way they….”,the student stopped mid-sentence, “Oh, I see…. this new trace involves a Gora, doesn’t it? Which race; Frank, Celt, Saxon, Lapp, Slav or Ionian? Or is theperson not from the ancient races?”

The Master couldn’t help but grin at Aditya’s bubbling enthusiasm. Suppressing an impish drive to jibe the neophyte any further he added, “Tauji sensed the bloodline of Mother Danu herself, so that probably leaves out Greeks, Romans, Lapps and Slavs. But let’s see….. you can get to it right after you rectify your earlier mistake.”

“One can see that this is neither a semi-Awakened Westerner who has lost his moorings and looking for answers nor another of their magicking denizens on a ‘Sikander’ trip or a flash looting expedition.”, said the apprentice, “ The readings of those types have been well cataloged. They will light up our Warning Arrays like a Christmas tree and they would be picked up seconds after they entered the holy land of Bharata. There would be no need for such a high priority message…. “

“The samples and Tauji’s report would be on your desk in the hour, Aditya”, the sage cut him off abruptly, “why don’t you finish your pending work, you know the work you botched yesterday, settle down and STUDY Tauji’s whole report before arriving at any conclusions? You don’t want to get your very first assumptions wrong, do you?”

“Ouch, the old fox is twisting it in!”, Aditya mused. “Forgive me for my haste, Master” he apologized, “I got carried away…. I shall proceed as you have correctly suggested..”, and bowed low before the old sage.

Rudradeva nodded and leaned back on his chair indicating that he was dismissed. Aditya bowed respectfully once again and left the sage’s presence vowing to make good on his mistake, get to the bottom of this strange new development….. and make his mentor/master proud of him. Very proud of him.

Rishi Rudradeva nodded approvingly as the young man left his presence. He turned around an addressed a red swastika finger painted on the wall opposite to the door. “I have watched him for quite sometime, Satpatiji. He has very high potential….. I would go out on limb here and say he would make Rishi before he is thirty. Moreover, he is eager, disciplined, pure-hearted and idealistic to a fault. Given his talents and inclinations I would say he would be an apt point man for this job.”

A woman’s voice answered from the Swastik and it filled the room…. yet none other than the addressee would hear it even if they were well within earshot. “Very well Rudra, if he’s the stock young-inexperienced protagonist-with-a-pure-heart character, he would need the stock grizzled veteran-wise master-dependable ally character to help him bear the burden too. The Cursed One has given us the slip, our watchers lost him at the Terai….. Vasuki’s personal envoy called on the Maha Atharvan himself last night to warn us of a ‘disturbance’. Coincidence? This time we have apparently ‘caught’ a really big Maghrebi fish in our net….. I think it would be prudent to put the good Colonel on this job too.”

*******************************

Chapter II to be continued…..

All Content including Pictures
Copyright © Anand K 2004 – 2006.

Sunday morning I’m waking up

Can’t even focus on a coffee cup…

Don’t even know who’s bed I’m in,
Where do I start,
Where do I begin.

Where do I start,

Where do I begin…

This Chemical Brothers hit titled “Where do I start, where do I begin?” is my theme song these days. The bewitching electronic music (characteristic of the talented duo) with it’s simple, yet telling lyrics best captures the spirit and the course of my life these days. This zonked out/180-degree phase-lag must not be confused with the “morning cobwebs” everyone gets at waking, this one’s the quite surreal feeling experienced by the truly rudderless ones….. or the driven ones who are quite unsure where their all consuming endeavour would take them. At this stage, I would place myself in the second category. The 18 month long (per attempt) Indian Civil Service preparations consists of gruelling lectures at the coaching centres, their weekly test series, hours of rote reading and memorising syllabi like the Indian Constitution (which I have come to worship, despite it’s few execution flaws), analytical understanding of certain topics in general studies and history (my first optional) and in my case competition with thousands of very capable science students and engineers in my 2nd optional, Physics. One could guess the calibre of the aspirants when I say that in my Physics class alone there are 17 IITians, an MTech from fr1ggin’ IISc, a guy from IIM-Calcutta………. plus yours truly who’s a (mathmonkey-button pusher) rocket scientist. So there!

In a deathrace like this where there are actual *casualities*, i.e a suicide or two every month on average, one can’t but let body and soul be consumed by the Dark Gods of UPSC; the Gods whose altars and sacred trees must be watered from time to time by the blood of countless aspirants. There are about a quarter million aspirants every year….. of whom a tenth are really serious candidates who have more than a snowball’s chance in Hell. It’s from this pool that the final tally of 300-450 “babus” (top bureaucrats) and “pandus” (top cops) are chosen. Given the sterling quality of the large pool of 25000 folks, the prelims elimination which takes in just a third of this number has an *enoromous* luck factor. To offset this luck factor, the serious aspirants leave nothing to chance and immerse themselves in depth and breadth based studies. Yours truly made a cardinal mistake by eschewing a couple of text books and the National Gazetteer in favor of other books that cover the same topics, but due to my perennial ill-luck and the change of guard in Delhi’s corridors of power, there were questions galore from topics stressed by those very tomes. Result, your Uncle Anand missed the 2006 bus….. t’was by a whisker, but a miss is still a miss in this winner takes all exam.

Well, there goes a whole year and some….. but not down the drain. Not yet! I have reconsidered my earlier decision of “resigning” myself to tech world forever if I fail this time and have decided to see it through to ze bitter end. I ain’t gonna let this go so easily after putting so much into it…. and coming so close. Much closer than I told my friends and family in fact! However, given the narrow odds one has to consider the worst case scenario too… i.e, what will I do if I fail my remaining attempts? What will I do if being a Babu or a Pandu is not in my kismet? I can give two more attempts and that would mean 2009 AD at max. Mui Problemo is, in this 4 year gap ( Spring 2005-March 2009) if I hedge only on Civil Services and fail…. I would be very much out of phase with my core realm, Science and Tech. It’s been just a year since I “took leave” from this realm and I have already forgotten things I shouldn’t, my rather impressive skills (in all humility!) in certain fields have rusted….. realised this after I watched a couple of my old recorded lectures and rambled through a few notes/eBooks from my masters on a lark. Guess I needn’t say it scared the living daylights outta me!

I decided I must not let my orbit get degraded (as my old Prof used to quip whenever we talked of bunking and freakin’) and I need to keep my moorings in science and tech…. ‘coz when it boils down to basics, I am an engineer. I might not be a Nikolai Tesla or a Richard Stallman, but I am quite good in certain areas. Well, I have started brushing up my old engineering tomes and tools, re-training myself in my old languages (C and C++ are already done, gotta do the Java and some HTML-DHTML and CGI) before proceeding to the .NET 2.0 platform, Python, XHTML etc (which I don’t know jacksh1t about yet). In the meantime my physics classes are wrapping up, we are on to Special Theory of Relativity now and the whole course will be over in a week. In this backdrop, I have started a job search…. somewhere in Delhi itself would be Zhang; in a job where there ain’t much attrition on my hours, no pissant PHBs, no long legged secretaries or HR Iron Butterflies like in that “Pardesiya” music video by Rakhi Sawant …. somewhere I can continue my preps on the side. Money ain’t the prime factor but yeah, earning some money on my own (after a long time…. used to work part time during my masters) would be great. Main factor is the work experience gained in this period…. it will be useful in case I fail in my remaining attempts and have to go back to tech realm or pursue higher studies or something else. Some folks have advised me not to disturb the preps by taking up a job and advise an “everything or nothing” approach….. but then, I don’t have a choice, do I? Umer bad rahi hain and I have to settle in a CAREER, right? Can’t afford to gamble at this point. Moreover, I had spent a good 15 months solely on my preps and have “gone the distance” and the knowledge gained there would stay with me for good. What I need to do is build up further on this solid foundation, “correct my mistake” (using a steeled and creepy Delbert Grady voice now ….. see “The Shining“?) and keep my cool. I guess I could do that even if I take up a job….

So after this long, self obsessed introduction let me come to the core of my post; A day in the life of The Wanderer. In the above mentioned backdrop. Yeah what, you ‘re shocked?! That’s right, all this was just the introduction! Didn’t you wonder why the material so far didn’t match the title of the post? By this time you guys must be knowing I lavv ze looooong posts.

Enjoy…

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My “morning” starts with the shrill alarm of my little black alarm clock, waking hour ranges from 5:00 AM to 11:00 AM…. to be precise, after atleast six hours of luving, luvving, luvvvving, deeeep, deeeeeeeeep sleep. I scoured a dozen shops to find an alarm clock that can raise the dead, ‘coz nothing less than that can get me off my four thousand winks…. found this pocket size banshee in a little shop near Munirka. I pound the unfortunate contraption to silence it….. and proceed to the love of my life, my Dell Inspiron 9300 laptop and let her light wash my face. The emptiness of my soul, the quo vadis feelings I talked about are washed away by this “Noor ul Dell-Ah”. I press the right buttons, dust her time to time and get her “jewellry” like internet, latest softwares and updates and she opens her heart to me in return. First thing I do is open my fave websites like Rediff, BR and CNN and get a grip on what’s new. First thing in the morning! Orkut and emails first check come only after this done.

Oh dear, mornin’ abulutions and chores now? I consult the calendars (Hindu, Hajira, Mayan and Chinese….. and Kingfisher and Pirelli calendars too just to be safe ) and notice that it is a full moon day today. Darn, the elementals are active today… guess it’s one of those rare occassions where I got to clean up myself. Cursing the day and shaking my fist at the heavens, I drag myself to the bathroom…. well, atleast my neighbours and classmates will be overjoyed today.

No breakfast for me when I am in Delhi…. I am on a vain and unhealthy and unscientifc starvation yo-yo diet now. What I would do for some nice Appam…..

The first 3-4 hours are always for extra reading. Can’t do without that…. I am on a totally demanding regime but still, I can’t let the extra reading stuff go by. I have tried and the resultant Cold Turkey almost annihilated my mind! Usually I take up random topics and wiki/google it up and follow up on them now that I am cut off from/finishedoff my book and ebook collections. Recently I persuaded my parents to buy me three nonfiction books by Peter Hopkirk (viz. The Great Game, On Secret Service East of Constantinople and Setting the East Ablaze) and two by Karen Armstrong (viz. A History of God and Holy War: The Crusades and their impact). I had searched Heaven and Earth for these rare books and found them by chance….. and boy, were they expensive! I had to postpone my plans to change my Nokia S60 for a Nokia N93 so that I could get these. But I must say it was worth every paisa…. already finished The Great Game and A History of God and it was like getting hit by a bullet train! Wish I had more time to corroborate this, pursue this a little more and make some notes. I ain’t so sanguine about Holy War by Armstrong, fFrom what I heard it’s a sort of revisionist work. Still, one must look at other POVs….

If there’s time between the end of the above time slot and brunch (i.e in case I wake up early), it’s time for polishing up my old tech stuff, programming and job search online. This takes about 3-4 hrs max ‘coz I find I am able to pick up the pieces pretty quick and I am confident I can learn the new stuff pretty fast. Prior to these retraining days, this slot was reserved for Medieval or Modern Indian History.

Brunch, at 12 PM noon no matter when I wake up, is always the same…. pan toasted bread with scrambled eggs, omlette or fried eggs I scrounge up myself….. or Chole-Battura from the friendly daylight dacoits next door. Heavens, the Yamuna river of mustard oil and trans-fat that’s going in…. hope I live to see one hundred! But chole-battura is tasty, I luvvv the greasy, spicy chole and the thick, piping hot batturas with raw onions, slivers of cabbages and green chillies combo. Sorta hooked on to chole-battura now, I get it every other day…. Now you know why I skip breakfast; gotta keep my Chippendale hot bod’, na? I open my ebooks on my laptop and consume a few pages along with my meal… these days the favored one is the epic Sandman series by Neil Gaiman.

Afternoons, i.e 1:00 – 4:00 PM are reserved for General Studies; stuff like Polity, Economy and Social-Cultural Affairs. This is where rote reading, mug up et all come into play….. I hate this type of study. Let me stick my head out and say that ze females excel in this method of study! I mean, it’s like those convent school girls studying chemistry in a “Take a beaker…. take a beaker. Full of water….. full of water. Add the salt….. add the salt” fashion! WTF ?! For a science-tech guy it’s supreme heresy to study something in this manner. Still, there’s no way around it when it comes to certain topics. Sighhhhhh…..

4:00 – 5:30 PM I get ready for my Physics classes, revise the previous days topics and take a look at what’s in store today. 15 minutes before I leave it’s time for some Orkuttin’, checking my mails and opening my fave forum threads… just to see what happened in the meantime. I pump half a gallon of aerosol deodrant and wear any clothing that doesn’t look like a CITU gunny bag from Trivandrum’s Connemara Central and rush to the classroom right next door. For another two hours, I surrender my six senses to a very animated and engaging lecture by Vajpayee Sir. I’m in seat No. 5, right in front of him in the first row ‘coz I was the 5th one to register for the course. As I have mentioned before I am notorious for dozing off or daydreaming in class, Maitrayi Ma’am gave me the Mungheri Lal nickname 17 years ago. Nothing of that sort here, if he ever caught me wandering I would get the proverbial “GMD” and the ball-breaking of a lifetime. Moreover, one can’t help but follow him throughout the lectures. However, in boring and mathematically rigorous units like Electrodynamics and Magentostatics he “lets” us slack a bit ‘coz he himself confessed that he loathes those “sidey” topics.

At 7:30-7:45 PM the guys scramble out to the dabbas before the samosas are finished, myself included at times. Dakshin Dilli Samosas are bigger and fillings more exotic than the wannabe samosas from back home (or even North Delhi where I stayed before coming to South Delhi). Here you have paneer bits, raisins, cashewnuts and what not as fillings…. psychedellic experience onlee. On saturdays I walk briskly to the IIT gate food court where there’s a Mumbaiyya guy who makes authentic paav bhaji, vada pao and the tastiest chaats. Saturday snacks are invariably Dahi Papri Chaat with lotsa Aamchur for moi (don’t like Aloo Tikki Chaat or the Bhelpuri much). Out there I spent like half an hour to forty minutes so that ze PYTs can gawk at moi and I can return the vibes if one of the abovesaid lay-dees catches the fancy of the esteemed myself. When my time’s up I give them all a goodbye flying kiss, break their hearts and trudge back to my apartment. Saturday night dinner is zimble fruitarian Kela and Papaya with some Tropicana juice. Sunday dinners on the other hand are bada-khanas…. I usually order a pizza from Slice of Italy or take a bus to Munirka for some Tikka or Kebab. Sigh…. how I wish I could shelve out some money and get me some exotic Murg Mussallam that’s been beckoning me for the last three months…. that single item goes for Rs 400! Hmmmpfff, I could survive on that much money for 8 whole days! Soon…… very soon. Just you wait….. On weekdays food is usually North Indian roti-subzi/paratha-veg Korma. For a total non-veggie, nay *carnivore* like me, living on veg food is hell! Food is accompanied by eBooks or a part of a movie from my considerable movie collections…. and movies from a “demon” downloader next door who has an unlimited 256 Kbps connection.

I settle around 9:00-9:30 PM and it’s back to studies for another two to six hours, depending on what time I woke up that morning. Usually I keep very late hours… I study better when this half of the globe has gone to sleep. Guess I was a vampire in a previous incarnation! This time slot id actually the most productive period as far as I am concerned. I deal with the really important topics, those areas I am weak in and physics in this time slot. Physics is somewhat in the backburner ‘coz I am pretty OK with it and my retentivity is high when it comes to science topics. It’s freakin’ evil Ancient India and Art n Architecture (Ancient-Medieval-Modern) that bugs me no end. It’s tha latter part that royally screwed me over this exam and I am pursuing it with a venegance. Problem is that, given the volume of material one is forced to do the “Take a beaker… take a beaker” path. I am using all tricks in the trade, viz. mnemonics, assosciation methods and even improvised Pavlovian techniques to deal with this area. Darn! Hope something good comes outta all this…

After a long night, I go to my darlin’ Dell and check out Orkut and my emails once again. Then I open my Musicmatch playlists (sometimes on loop mode) at low volume. Invariably, the one I choose turns out to be my fave list consisting of soothing numbers like “Solsbury Hill”; “Where do I start”; “The River King”; “Kamilia”; ” Ever After theme (The Mummers Dance)”-”Wild Child”-”Storms in Africa”-”Only Time”-”Ebudae”-”Caribbean Blue”-”May it be” by Enya; “Divano”-”Madonna”-”Hymne”-”Infanati” by Era; Gaelic Cradle song; “Le Couer”; “She Moved Through the fair”; “Nightingale” by Yanni; “The Crossing”; “Into the West”-Annie Lennox; “Clara’s theme” from our own Thoovanathumbikal and of course “Never Tear Us Apart” by Inxs. This playlist is used when I feel romantic (i.e most of the time ) or tired or sleepy…. otherwise I create a random playlist or use the themed ones like latest Tamil, 70s-80s Malayalam etc. Every night I fall asleep to these songs and I dream of fast cars, monster trucks, Houris, Japanese girls in sailor suits, Swedish blondes, 100 course feasts, friends, Rawalpindi and Karachi in flames…. these are the good dreams. I dream till that electro-mechanic banshee b1tch of an alarm clock wakes me up again for another “Same Shit, Different Day”.

Now you folks see what I meant? There was this Stephen King short story (and a Sandman issue) which said Hell was someplace you experience ennui and eternal boredom if not your fears/punishments over and over again. It’s something like Bill Muray’s Groundhog Day movie…. or the Q continum’s eternal boredom as shown in Star Trek. It’s the same thing again and again, the same thing you have done many times before… and after a point you tire off things that once caught your imagination. I am a guy who gets bored soon… find it difficult to stick with someone or something. The astrologers say it’s because the Moon is on the 12th house according to my horoscope. The Moon which is the astronomical body that controls the mind, is in the 12th house, which is apparently the station for water. Water yaane ki fluidness, instability, change etc. Fickleness and even insanity etc are probable characteristics of all those “blessed” with such an alignment. I tend to agree with them… And you can now guess what a regimen and an endeavour like this can do to someone like me. BTW, do you see any possible openings for “entertainment”, “social life” (MUHUHUHAHAHAHAHA), fun-n-frolic and freakin’ out in my time table? Sighhhhhhhhh……… yeh hai meri kahani! But then, no gain without some pain, eh? PS: Blogging and tracking my blogpals’ activities have also suffered heavily since I started my jobsearch and re-training. Anyways, I have not blogged for nearly a month…. and I haven’t commented on my pals posts in this period.

So it’s a good thing a drastic change in my “carved in stone” time table is coming soon, in the form a suitable job…. which I am confident will come about in a week or two. I’ve been on the abovesaid mode, on “autopilot” like Adam Sandler in Click, for more than a year. Like the “can’t even focus on the coffee cup” as the song says. (BTW, the opening scenes of the movie “The 40 yr old virgin” also somewhat follows my life these days!) I need a change. ASAP….

Thanx for staying with me so long and bearing with some useless trivia about moiself….

Anand K.

PS: Voldemort has been stacked at the bottom of the “to-do” pile…. but he ain’t forgotten!

Folks, this is my first real attempt at fiction. Fan fiction it may be, yet I am finally taking that step into writing fiction….. a very, very difficult task if I may say so. Friends of mine and a few teachers had long asked me to try a hand at fiction…. I couldn’t go beyond some “inspired” stories or the trivial fiction one churns out in English Literature papers, yet they might have seen something in me.
As a tribute to these good folk, I have chosen the mysterious Lord Voldemort, born Tom Marvolo Riddle, from Harry Potter universe and I attempt to give him a backstory and more depth. It may not be the finest work of English fiction, but please see it as a attempt to hone my story writing skills (well, my url is a take on “The Storyteller”, right? ) . I may continue this particular saga if the feedback is good and I feel it is worth the electrons it is consuming.

Wokay?

Hoping not to have landed an absolute turkey,

Anand K.
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Chapter I
The Quest

1950.

Varanasi the ancient, the place of atonement for man and god, the cleanser of spirits….. the path to the other side. The hordes of tourists, hawkers, wannabes, faux “holy men”, the Ganga turned into a veritable Vaitarini by the avarice of man, the dirt-ash-garbage and feces stained gullies of the city couldn’t hide the true nature of Varanasi to the sensitive ones. Those few sentient beings, human and otherwise, who could hear the sounds and see the colors normal beings cannot have always felt the surging power at Varanasi… despite her appearance they recognized her for what she was. Varanasi is older than history, older than legend, older even than myth. The power existed even before the first altars were built by sons of Manu, it existed even before Lord Shiva himself came to atone for his sin of Brahmahatya epochs ago. Very few places in this world still function as doorways to the higher and nether planes, only these spots still have residues of the “magic” of those ancient ages; the ages where gods and demons walked the Earth. Varanasi was a veritable Motherlode for all those interested and steeped into the philosophic and the esoteric. Yet, Tom Marvolo Riddle had never been more afraid in his life.

Unlike most denizens of the wizarding world, Riddle was rather well acquainted with the ways and the arts of the mud-bloods. Once, during his childhood in the orphanage he had stumbled upon the works of a budding writer named J.R.R.Tolkien…. those books belonged to a literature student working as a part time apprentice at the orphanage. The fantasy world woven by the master storyteller Tolkien had offered respite from the dreary modern world; the grey, mechanical world little Riddle somehow realized he had *no* place in. In these works he read about Valinor, the undying lands of the Gods and appreciated that concept. Now, immortality and the prospect of godhead appealed to the blood of Salazar Slytherin…. as much as it was disturbed by the “unknown” that awaited mere mortals. Tolkien suggested that the immortal Elves (and even the gods) viewed death as a gift by the Supreme Godhead, Eru Illuvatar, to his favorite children. Even the first, uncorrupted mortals welcomed death at the end of their time as a last adventure……… but Riddle was afraid of the unknown. The prospects of being consigned into the “nothingness and oblivion” as he perceived it had disturbed him no end. It was no “childish” trifles like spiders or the dark or bullying older kids which terrified little Tom Riddle, it was death.

And in Varanasi, death was everywhere….. death was all around him. He could feel the souls and voices of thousands if not millions drift into the unknowns, he saw throngs of elderly pray earnestly for death in the doorways of the endless stone cut temples….. he even saw countless thirsty spirits hover over the tranquil Ganga waiting intently for their living loved ones and descendants to release them from limbo. Some of these spirits had immense bellies and hungry, lustful eyes but mouths the size of a pin’s head, some had the content look of a person at the end of the journey while the eyes of some spirits were unfathomable pools of regret. The malevolent ones on the other hand wandered around the forsaken “disgraced” cremation ghats and the forests on the banks of the rivers of Varanasi.
Death and transition to the beyond did not feel like the cold scythe of the Grim Reaper as commonly thought in the west, it was not even that painful and terrifying experience birth is…. Riddle could see it now. Yet, Riddle was afraid. Like all those scurrying, vain tyrants who fear what awaits them in the beyond, that great equaliser where one is no different from his vanquished victim from the mortal plane, Riddle was afraid. His august predecessors who harbored the same fears tried to cheat death and postpone their punishment or “ordinary” existence or obliteration in the beyond…. in vain. And here he was, in Varanasi the citadel to the other worlds, beholden to the splendor of death, salvation and Karma.

Still, he HAD to stay. Even evil has to face its tremendous fears and supreme loneliness. He had come to the city of death precisely to do the impossible task. He was there to cheat if not defeat death….. the mysterious power various cultures depicted variously as a dark lady in red, the grim reaper, the dark god on his terrible buffalo or more “conveniently” as psychopomps like Charon, the raven and even St. Peter. Attempts by the puny human mind to understand this phenomenon by casting death into easily digestible anthropomorphic forms…

His quest for invinciblity, if not true immortality, had taken him to the ancient lands where magic and the occult had been a way of life; the groves and stone circles of his homeland and Ireland, the necropolises and pyramids of Egypt, the catacombs of East Europe, the dark alleys of Istanbul, Palestine, Mesopotamia, Persia and now India. Till now, all his efforts had been in vain, the old religions and the arcane knowledge of those lands had been all but obliterated by the new faiths. The prophets and seers massacred, the books of the dead burned, the runes scraped off, the metal plates melted…. all by the ravaging Jihads, reconquistas, crusades and inquistions. Even the wizarding world of those lands were not spared. The new faiths that seeped into the sequestered wizarding community had made them forsake the occult and the dark. The demons and the Jinns were trapped in crystals and hidden away for eternity… if not destroyed; the dark tomes burned by holy fires; the Golems returned to clay and rock; the black eggs of the phoenixes destroyed by powerful incantations…. it was a merciless massacre. Priceless knowledge, “good” and “bad”collected through millenia of efforts had been destroyed at the exhorting of a few priests who were terrified of what they couldn’t comprehend. An aged Dervish in Isfahan advised him that it is perhaps only in the ancient land of India (where every juggernaut had ground to a screeching halt) that he would find his answers. Yes, India with her unbroken tradition and arcane teachings might have something to give him…. hadn’t she blessed so many knowledge seekers from all corners of the globe? Didn’t she still hide the magical realms, the ancient sages, the Nine and their arcane knowledge, the immortals from the earlier age? Didn’t she stay away from the so-called international wizarding community with their ridiculous “ministers of magic”? This is perhaps the only land where the powers keep to themselves, unhindered, immutable and magnificient….. Yes, he would find his answers here.

Tom Riddle’s mind was buoyant as he walked to a cremation ghat and settled near the burning pyre of what once used to be a man. His thoughts raced back to that last year at Hogwarts, to the chain of events that led him into his dark quest and pilgrimage….

*

It was not that sixteen year old Tom Riddle was a stranger to darkness…. hadn’t he killed his own father and his grandparents, hadn’t he framed his own slow-witted uncle and did he not release the terrible Basilisk and killed a filthy mudblood? Most importantly, did he not pour a part of his self, his malice and his wisdom into an ordinary diary which could outlast even his mortal self…. long before he actually killed? Riddle himself not knew exactly know how he achieved it, people would later say “Riddle sealed a part of his 16 year old self in the diary”, but one wonders even if HE knew what he was doing. Was he trying to emulate his old hero, Sauron who poured his entire self into the “indestructible” One Ring? Sauron was a powerful Maiar, a Demigod…. and he was fictional too! Tom Riddle on the other hand was real, he was still human… well, atleast for the moment he was. However, Riddle had sensed something; a palpable sundering of his being when he killed his father (and such a likeness of his father he was) and his grandparents a year later. The sundering of the soul actually started when he opened the chamber and started cleansing Hogwarts of the Mudbloods…. The death of innocent Myrtle, though not by his own hand had caused the first gash in the fabric of his soul. The warping of his soul amused Tom Riddle more than anything… the chaos and the distort of the being that would have driven any lesser person insane was embraced wholeheartedly. It was like a challenge, a new dimension had opened…. he was not just Tom Marvolo Riddle anymore.
It was actually the weak sundered part of his self that he manifested into the diary. He still did not know how he was able to do that, all he did was listen to the voices of the generations of Slytherins surging through his veins…. quite serendipitous that episode was. Riddle himself began to understand the nature of his diary only in bits and pieces…. it took hours of introspection and experimentation before he realised that the diary indeed contained that sundered part of his soul. Now that his horizons were further expanded with his multiple murders, Tom Riddle needed to understand what was happening to him. He HAD to know if he could go further…..

The Hogwarts Library turned out to be useless in his quest for a greater understanding of the phenomenon…… it was woefully stocked when it came to tomes of the Dark Arts. Probably it had something to do with the official policy of Hogwarts which stresses teaching *defense* against the dark arts….. or maybe Dumbledore’s cliche might have succeeded in keeping the resources out of bounds of curious students. It was a chance encounter with a grizzled wizard at The Hog’ Head pub that same year where he stumbled on a possible answer to his questions. The said wizard, a decorated veteran from the Great War of the wizarding realm was totally sloshed and bloated with alcohol that fateful night. In the course of Riddle’s toadying and innocuous questions on the finer aspects of the Great War, the veteran boasted on being on “a part of this super secret mission with Dumbledore to the forests of Saxony to locate something called the Horcrux….. a demonic talisman that was the source of Grindelwald’s immense powers”. Apparently, they were briefed only that destroying the talisman would hasten the defeat the of the dark wizard who was causing untold mayhem in the wizarding as well as the muggle world. Riddle had questioned the wizard endlessly, to increasing frustration….. the wizard-soldier knew nothing more than the grunt work he was assigned to. He did not know who or what this Horcrux thing was, he did not even see it. It was seen only by Dumbledore who went right through that terrible door or fire and returned in about an hour, his face flush with victory and relief… while the rest of the team stood guard against any devices of the Grindelwaldist Ahnenerbe and the Thule Society.

Contacting Dumbledore was out of the question, he had been wary of Riddle since the day he first laid eyes on him. The Head Master was aloof and quite unaccessible, he was close to Dumbledore and Riddle did not enjoy a personal relationship with the headmaster either. But Professor Slughorn might know something……

*

Riddle snapped back to the present at the sounds of a group of ascetics chanting lustily to… whichever power they were invoking. A wild, ash smeared and naked ascetic was foraging the still warm embers of the pyre while the rest gathered in a circle around the pyre and called to the heavens in a primeval voices.
“This land was so strange, the conventions so different, the occult more unbridled and developed….. no statist Ministry of Magic peeking over your shoulder either”, mused Riddle once again. He was certain the quest for power over death, the quest that took a definite form in Horace Slughorn’s office so many years ago will be successfull here.
“I already possess receptables to hold a soul like mine and I have done what is required to go further than any wizard ever had…. ” said Tom Riddle to himself, “….. but I do not know the way. I have traced the footsteps of my predecessors and I have finally come to the land that holds the answer. I swear on the name of Salazar Slyther, my quest shall come to fruition here!”

Riddle solemnly rose up from the stone cut steps that led to the river and walked into the night, apparently yet another white man who had come to India seeking answers to esoteric questions. The ordinary locals, the beat police, the false priests and the faux “sages” paid no attention to him… yet there were some in Varanasi who sensed the Black-Hole that was Tom Marvolo Riddle.
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ALL CONTENTS INCLUDING PICTURES COPYRIGHT © ANAND K 2004-2006

There’s this wise saying in Arabic, “Never ever let your dog go hungry”….. “dogs” might be loyal but the strands of loyalty (at the basic level) are mostly built on implict understandings of give and take. Strands which might strain and even break if the equation is kept unbalanced. Only in the rarest of spheres will sentient links like love and loyalty be absolute and total, but these are exceptions rather than the rule. The tragedy of Omkara is in the cardinal mistake of taking his loyal lieutenant, Ishwar ‘Langda’ Tyagi for granted. This master-lieutenant equation is one instance where Vishal Bharadwaj’s Omkara departs from Shakespeare’s Othello and it’s adaptations by talented artists like Oliver Parker, Orson Welles, Tim Blake Nelson and our own Jayaraj. Though Omkara is an adaptation of Othello, a product of one of the greatest minds of Humanity viz. Shakespeare, it does exhibit distinctive features and provides even more depth to the original characters. This is no mean feat in itself…. not everyone can improve on the Bard of Avon, but Vishal Bharadwaj does it with aplomb.

Shakespear’s Era of Tragedy is a reflection of the post Elizabethean England…. a darker period which could showcase his true genius, viz. his understanding of human nature. The original Iago was a jealous malcontent who hates his master Othello, the Moorish general of Venice. The reaons for this demonic hatred is not explicitly explained, but the reader can gather that it is a mix of racism, jealousy of Othello’s talent and his fairy tale love story, hatred of Othello’s second in command Cassio and his confidence in his own resourcefullness and intellect which is obviously higher than his superiors. He is no different from Cassius of the Bard’s Julius Caesar play who is “lean and hungry” by Caesar’s own astute observation. However, Caesar trusted his compatriot who once saved him from death by drowning in Hispania and refused to take heed of warnings from those close to him. The original Othello trusted Iago, even let him poison his ears against his trusted 2nd in command and his wife…. trusted him to the point of the audience’s disbelief! Maybe there’s a backstory to back up this trust but Shakespeare doesn’t tell us.

While Shakespeare chose to put up Iago as the bigoted, crafty and slimy malcontent who has no “just cause” other adaptations of Othello have given more depth to Iago. Tim Blake Nelson, a very very talented actor/director had made this movie title ‘O’ which is a high school sports drama take on Othello. ‘O’ is Odin, a black basketball star of his high school while Iago character played competently by Josh Hartnett is his team-mate. This Iago resents O ‘coz his own father, the coach, shows affection towards the vastly talented O. Iago goes on a steroid course to increase his prowess and earn the respect of his dad, only to descend further into rage fuelled insanity. Jayaraj’s Iago, Paniyan, played by Lal is closer to the original as he harbors hatred for Perumalayan from the very beginning….. though he claims it is compounded by Perumalayan choosing Kaanthan over the much senior Paniyan for the coveted Theyyam title. However, the Othello character Perumalayan Kannan is more insecure owing to his smallpox stricken face and low caste origins…. he himself acknowledges his temerity in whisking off the beautiful high-caste daughter of the feudal lord and rues his deformity on more than one occassion. The original Othello only expresses a doubt that Desdemona desires Cassio for Othello is a swarthy moor and much older than she is. However, he is not wracked by insecurity and childish possessiveness like Perumalayan Kannan.

Coming to Omkara the movie, our Iago, Ishwar ‘Langda’ Tyagi is perhaps the most capable and dangerous person in the whole gang. Omkara himself needs to empty whole magazines to kill his enemies while Tyagi, a DEAD shot needs just one bullet per person. His sniping skills are extraordinary…. as depicted in a scene where he picks off an entire enemy gang one by one *while they are fighting a hand to hand battle with his comrades*. He is intelligent, strong, determined and is a team player but he is slightly lame (hence the nickname ‘Langda’ ) and a boorish rustic. Omkara, aiming higher (state level politics in this movie) probably sees the future in Kesu, a capable student leader and a recent entry to his band. He chooses the kid over Langda Tyagi in a dramatic fashion…… in a somewhat cruel manner to Tyagi. At least a word beforehand might have ameliorated Tyagi’s pain and sense of betrayal, but Omkara rather chose to surprise everyone in public. Maybe the Chief has to use his own discretion and make independent, hard choices without confiding with anyone else…. but hello, he is your *trusted advisor* and friend, right?! Perhaps it’s because the suave, smooth talking but tough kid who holds the key to the foreseeable future rather than an illiterate, battle-scarred Langda who is only streetwise and good for wetworks. The “Duke of Venice” character played by Naseeruddin Shah, who knows human nature better than anyone else asks Omkara “What about Tyagi?”. For a Bhai of the UP badlands, Omkara makes the surprising and apparently naive assertion that “He is my *brother* and would understand!”.
Now this Omkara is not so trusting of anyone like Shakespeare’s or Nelson’s or Jayaraj’s versions…. he demands concrete Proof of Infidelity before his wedding (the “proof” which was brilliantly staged by Tyagi at very short notice) against Tyagi’s life. Other Othellos didn’t make this “do or die” demand if I remember correctly. However, Omkara does respect Tyagi’s opinions and analysis, his neutrality as an observer and his experience in the “dhanda”. Tyagi’s machinations are not much craftier than the run-of-the-mill Narads in TV soap operas, but he senses correctly that when it comes to Dolly (our Desdemona), Omkara’s passion and love clouds his judgement. Couple it with Dolly’s father’s cold Parthian Barb that “she who has betrayed his father can betray ANYBODY” which resonates in his mind, the fact that Kesu is a natural charmer when it comes to the lay-dees and Dolly is the most gorgeous woman in that corner of the globe….. one can’t blame anyone for taking leave of his senses.
As wise people have observed, “Men who are otherwise brilliant and rational beings can be utter dorks when it comes to women” and of course the other famous (sometimes derogatory) uvaacha, “God has given man a brain and a penis, but unfortunately enough blood to operate only one of these at a time”. When it boils down to basics on suspicion of infidelity, the echoing self-judgement in his mind is “He (the third man) is a better *man* than I am….. He is a better *man* than I am….” Now when your wife’s father and your closest pal imply that she is insulting you (after all, infidelity is the worst insult one can give his spouse) it probably becomes very difficult to let go of that sliver of doubt. Compounding circumstancial “proof”, self-goals by Dolly and Tyagi’s coup-de-grace weighed against sage advice from truly well-meaning friends and the repeated implorations of the bewildered Dolly finally snapped Omkara….. which leads to the Greek tragedy.

Konkona Sen Sharma is an amazing actress. Period! It’s a pleasure watching a great actress who ain’t a plastic!
She plays Indu/Emilia, the well meaning and capable wife of Iago/Langda Tyagi. She simply becomes the simple, rustic, large-hearted and yet strong character she’s supposed to play. Her character is the third character who has been given more depth in this movie, and boy how does she do it! She’s the big sister and mother to all the bad boys in that Daaku world (including her Husband’s boss) , wise to the ways of the world, possessing the unfailing rustic common-sense and always ready to lend a shoulder to cry upon. Her sole character flaw is perhaps in not understanding her husband’s rage at being superceded and not sensing the scheming monster within. She thinks her hubby is just another sleazy, gross and gruff person who should be treated like a little unruly rascal but doesn’t sense the bad vibesand everyone pays for it at the bitter end. Tyagi is an Anthony Hopkins quality actor and even fools someone like Omkara who’s been seeing him for 15 years….. yet wives, espeically the tough-n-nice ones like Indu, are supposed to be more intutive, right?
This brings us to another theory on Tyagi-Iago….. he was INDEED a good man, loyal friend and good husband till that moment when his mind snapped and was forever set against his former friends. There is also a warped sense of loyalty to Omkara despite all this as proven in a chaotic fight scene where Tyagi saves Omkara with his skills as a shooter (or maybe is it just my flawed reading….. or maybe he was fattening the pig for the slaughter?). Makes me wonder, will ordinary folks you or I break and go into the dark side when our greatest dreams are shattered directly or indirectly by those whom you love?

Another character worth mention is Roderigo/Rajju character played by newcomer Deepak Dobriyal. He stands out as the jilted bridegroom of Dolly who still can’t let it go. He is consumed with jealousy and rage but is meekly subservient to Omkara (while planning his destruction at the same time) for the time being. His dad is a financier to Omkara’s operations, you see….. and he has the misfortune to occasionally watch HIS Dolly being intimate with the usurper. He reminds me of a salivating, scheming but outwardly earnest Gollum who helps Frodo…. only because Frodo holds the One Ring, Gollum’s “Preciousssss”. But in this case, Samwise Gamgee(Tyagi) who is supposed to protect Frodo (Omkara) is actually in collusion with the slimy, treacherous Gollum. And as we know, Frodo wouldn’t have gone far without Sam.
Unlike the spineless puppet portrayal of Roderigo in other versions of Othello, this one is a force to reckon with. It is his haunting chant of “Tyagi…. Bahubali, Tyagi…. Bahubali” (Bahubali is the title Tyagi was jockeying for) which first sparks the glitter of ambition in Tyagi’s eyes. The way the “innocuous” comical relief/sleazeball crashes into the idyllic world of the soon-to-be-fallen-hero is portrayed in an eerie (and hilarious at the same time) scene. It is this Roderigo who wickedly rubs salt into Tyagi’s wounded heart and sets him into the vortex of evil…… not the other way round as in other adaptations. One can’t help but notice how this weasel “comes of age” in his own way from a chicken-hearted, spindly legged groom riding a ridiculous moped and a perpetually sobbing buffoon to a gun-wielding avenger bent on reaching his manzil.

Other characters aren’t much to write about…. except for Shah’s interesting portrayal of the “Duke”. Here he is a bald Bhaisaab (**who does looks a bit like Mahatma Gandhi gone evil, as Raja Sen observed in his review**), an MP who’s one of those smooth players in Brahmin-Rajput politics of UP. He has some good one-liners and his drawling matter-of-fact voice is a pleasure to hear.
Brabantio, here known as Vakeelsaab, is Dolly’s dad. Unlike the heartbroken curse of original Brabantio and Narendra Prasad’s portrayal in Kaliyattam, the way this daddy tells Omkara that his own daughter will one day betray him is quite chilling. It sounded rather like a pissed ex-boyfriend “warning” his replacement (to plant seeds of doubt and strife); “Just between us grown-up men….. do watch out, boss! She’s a whore!”
Dolly/Desdemona is kept rather unaltered, the archetype self-sacrificing doomed lady (that’s what her name means BTW) and a symbol of purity, love and innocence. Only one thing stands out in the movie, the way she subtly let’s Omkara know her liking for Omkara is no mere infatuation/ puppy-love. One thing that does stand out is Dolly does the cardinal sin of bringing another man to their marital bed. (Not in the literal sense….. what were you pervs thinking? ) This was following a chweet romantic moment in bed and she tries to curry favor for Kesu who was her classmate in college and who’s presently in the doghouse. Now I ain’t married, but even a Vogon like me knows some things should not have a price-tag …. some things must not be implied or demanded in moments like these. Of course, it was just a chaste request for helping out her friend now that Omkara was in a good mood, but bringing up that topic in such a situation sours the mood. I guess most men might think “Oh, was this all services rendered against a collateral payement? Is that it?!” ( Omkara had already sown the dragon seeds of suspicion unbeknownst to her. He becomes royally pissed and more suspicious when she brings Kesu’s matter)
Lesser can be said on for Cassio (Kesu) and Bianca (Billo Chamanbahar), the latter played by Bipasha Basu. They are pretty much the same as the original characters and only have weakly supporting roles in the scheme of things. I must say the only eyesore in the movie is Bipasha’s *second* item number…..she’s HOT, but it’s heresy pasting a skin show a needless second item-number in a serious movie like this! However the wedge created between Kesu and Billo as a collateral damage to Tyagi’s machinations is not as grating as the eyecandy-teen romance angle.
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Now coming to the performances, music etc and the movie as a whole:

Overall
Othello was set in the tense surroundings of Venice and Cyprus which were under the threat of Ottoman invasion. Most of the action is set on the wind swept isle of Cyprus with it’s fortification and grim atmosphere. The adaptations have always kept a somewhat similar background, “Kaliyattam” had the rural dust-bowls and forests with the gaudy colors, the strange local deities and structures of Theyyam…. an art form which depicts paths of heroes and gory wars. One major Theyyam theme was “The legend of Kathivanoor Veeran” a folk hero and his lover Chemparuthi. They also met their doom due to treachery of another kind. “O” on the other hand had the battle-front of the American high school basketball court. Given the life-n-death image issues of teenagers in issues like this, this battle-front is as grim and dangerous as the forts of Cyprus. “Omkara” is set in THE dust-bowls….. the “cow-belt” of UP. Crushing poverty, caste politics, fallow lands, ope spaces, shanties, rival gangs, violence, politician-pandu-criminal nexus are staple features of these badlands. The settig is IMO more dangerous and foreboding than that of Omkara’s counterparts.Now our Vishal has a good eye for backdrops. The way he transformed Macbeth from the fogs, Birnam forest and the rolling hills of Scotland to the modern Mumbai underworld is sheer genius. Kurosawa had it much easier with Throne of Blood ‘coz he could easily supplant it to the feudal strife period of Japan. A period mirroring medieval Scotland…. down to the fog, the witches, the castles and the dense forest (Cobweb Forest). Vishal has again shown his genius by adapting it to the UP backdrop. There’s almost a sepia filter as in “Kaante” plus the natural gaudy colors of the North, he doesn’t overdo the color thing as Palekar did in Paheli. The cinematography, photography and choreography do justice to the story. All these have the stamp of the no-nonsense, thinking director Vishal…. no question about it. There are no perfectly sync extras dancing to the item-songs as in movies like Dum, Shool…. it is pure, raw fun, frolic, freesytle gyrations, nasha and lust. The scene of senior cops and ordinary pandus dancing to Bipasha jhatkas (Bipasha snatches the cap of an IPS officer and dances wearing that Topi) in the second item number is very…. believable.

Dialogues are not shuddh Kanyakabujh/Hindi Sabha Hindi for a change….. they are in purely local lingo which is a bit difficult to follow at times. The opening Tarantinoesque dialogue by Tyagi starts with “Chutiy*” for one thing…… it sets the tone for the whole bare-naked rural criminal India movie. Of course, outlaws don’t speak in classical Urdu and Hindi, do they? Now, words are to be very carefully used when you are in Bhai world, where a simple nod can be a death-warrant for some poor bugger. And if you are going to make your boss, comrade-at-arms and family to be the puppets in your demonic grand plan you better use your words wisely. The wors of Tyagi are precise but loaded, reeking with flase concern, making infra-digs and designed in such a way so that Omkara is blinded to the possibly flawed/dubious premise and thrust into Tyagi’s foregone conclusion. Kudos for Vishal who has written the screenplay and dialogues himself.

Performances.
Ajay Devgan as Omkara delivers a good performance. But I feel something’s missing…… I felt more for Abhishek Bachan’s Lallan (in Yuva) when he went downhill, for Suresh Gopi’s epic descent into rabid insanity and jealousy in Kaliyattam and even Lawrence Fishburn’s festering pain in Oliver Parker’s Othello. Maybe it’s the dark surroundings favored by Omkara and his ever present shades….. but you don’t see the kind of anger and pain that drives one to destroy the love of your life.

Saif Ali Khan as Langda Tyagi is a relevation! He showed he has the “darkness” in him in Ek Haseena Thi and now he has indeed oudone himself. Come to the Dark Side, Saif….. you belong here!
Unlike his pink-undies metrosexual image, the Langda Tyagi we see is every bit the raw, untamed and earthy crook. Unlike a Hritik Roshan who insisted on wearing designer dhotis and Pahadi bunyans to display his rippling muscles to maximum effect, or a Salman Khan sporting a tanned-bronzed body and a cool Marine cut in Tere Naam (as against a Vikram who starved and sunburnt himself in preparation for Sethu), Saif Ali Khan does a commendable job in booting the “image factor” and insistence on “looking cool” even if beaten to an inch of his life ( a la SRK). He fits in….. easily. His performance is excellent…… matches other portrayals by heavyweights like Ian McKellen, Josh Hartnett and Kenneth Branaugh. The way his expression changes as he is cheered by Rajju the weasel, when he sees Omkara choosing Kesu over him when he is taunted by Rajju and finally when his house of cards collapse around him are indicative of some serious talent. I always believed he didn’t deserve his award for Hum Tum, but in Omkara hindsight I agree that the *recognition* is well deserved. You have come a long way from “Ole Ole” Saif Mian, congratulations!

I’ve already spoken about Konkona Sen Sharma’s performance. Where’s the hem of your skirt, Oh Most Magnificent Muse? Let this wannabe artist kiss it and attain Kaivalyajnana!

And Deepak Dobrival? Guys, we have a new gun in town! Move over Raghubir Yadav, you are beginning to tire us. Here’s someone who can do what you can….. and more.

***ADDED LATER***
I somehow missed Kareena Kapoor while speaking of the performances. Sorry Ji

Kareena for all her spoilt brat image is a quite capable actress. Her method acting in Chameli was quite a revelation…. IMO the only reason it failed to click was it’s difficult to imagine someone “peaches-n-cream” pretty like Lolo as a streetwalker. Her Dolly has few lines but she stands her ground with a wide range of expressions, the betrayed/bewildered look alone when Omkara accuses her of infidelity on their wedding night vindicates her presence amongst the stalwarts in this cast. She’s no Konkona but she sure has delivered her bit.
***

Vivek Oberoi and Bipasha delivers what’s asked of them. Nothing earthshaking….. understandable given the standing of their characters. Naseeruddin Shah’s again done well…. his role is nothing like that smooth-talking and dangerous cop (an adaptation of The Three Witches) in Maqbool which was Vishal’s adaptation of Macbeth. Still, he has enoromous screen presence. Dolly’s dad (dunno the artist’sname) has also done a good job as i mentioned before.

Music
The music composed by Vishal Bharadwaj is ek dum first class. “Beedi” is of course the raging favorite, but I prefer the soothing tunes of “O Saathi Re” and “Jag Ja”. “O Sathi Re” is a great piece…. lifting tunes set to Omkara’s and Dolly’s romance. Ajay Devgan’s recitation of “Jag Ja” in bed sort of tugs at your heart-strings….. but when he comes to the part where he promises a “Dashrath Boon” and tells her to ask anything she desires, Dolly butts in and demands Kesu’s reinstation. (Some sense of timing, eh?) The sweetness of these songs plus the foreknowledge that everyone is doomed just adds to the appreciation. Yes, I think bittersweet would be a correct term for these two songs.
Rahat Fateh Ali Khan is one of my favorite artists. I fell temporarily in love with Paap’s Udita Goswami via his unbelievably mellifluous tunes of “Mann Ki Lagan”. His rendering of “Jiya Dhadak hadak” in Kalyug is something I listen to almost every day before going to sleep. Khan’s “Naina” OST from this movie sets the backdrop of Dolly’s and Omkara’s first meeting and budding love……. great lyrics and Khan’s unique voice makes a great listening. “Lakkad” is yet another beautiful song and it’s in true bittersweet yearning-pathos mode. This song not featured in the movie, but obviously designed for Indu as she watches a ruthless Bhai like Omkara treating Dolly tenderly and lovingly (as against her own husband who’s “quite an animal”). Hated the “Namak” item-number…. it doesn’t belong here. Another song of note is “Omkara” by Sukhwindra Singh; I loved it when I listened to it standalone but in the movie it’s played in a fight scene with Omkara walking away triumphantly after the dust settles. Obviously this is to highlight the heroism of Omkara, but I felt it wasn’t necessary for a director like Vishal. Shaji Kailas showing Mohanlal lifting a road-roller is understandable…. but does Vishal need this? Could have done it more subtly. Bad Vishal. :p
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In short this movie gets a full 80% from yours truly. Highly recommended. Not quite Kurosawa standard (anybody seen his Shakespeare adaptations, “Ran” and “Throne of Blood”? The spirit’s voice in “Throne of Blood”, the eternal fog, the violent deaths and the whole Noh-theatre movie adaptation of Macbeth still gives me the jitters. The climax alone is worth the money). ***The ending could have been improved I guess, a bit too abrupt and comes crashind down on your heads. I loved the ending in Kaliyattam where Perumalayan immolates himself…. he turns into fire, he becomes fire and finally fades to nothingness.
(Spoilers follow:) However I must say the scene where a pained Omkara dismisses off Tyagi even after knowing the enormity of his crime and Tyagi’s treachery was quite novel. I am reminded of that scene in Saving Private Ryan where the German paratrooper who walks down the stairs after knifing Private Mellish (Adam Goldberg) looks at the cringing Corporal Upham (who couldn’t muster courage to help his comrade who was calling out to him) like he’s an insignifant worm. That was the ultimate insult – “You don’t matter to me”. Omkara, in dismissing Tyagi shows no trace of malice or anger….. just resignation to his fate, accepting his own crime and stupidity, a warped mask of pain and peace, and that “you don’t matter to me anymore” look.
Vishal also falls prey to audience’s prediliction towards karmic retribution for all evil and shows Tyagi getting his throat cut by his shatterd wife who is then shown contemplating suicide by jumping into a well. The latter scene is something like Tarantino’s trademark Trunk Shots. The dishevelled and EXTREMELY pissed Konkona Sen Sharma in her red sari and sickle in hand is made to look like a Durga Devi who cleanses the world and eases the burden of Mother Earth by dispatching off Asuras and Rakshasas. I guess this scene could have been handled a bit differently…. was this pandering to the lay audiences who luvv the heroine destroying the evil ones? (Spoilers end here)***

Overall, a very commendable effort by Vishal Bharadwaj. Keep up the good work Vishal, I sincerely hope you will adapt Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus next time. It would be interesting to see what’s your take on this supremely gory tragedy.

Peace.

Late 1949.
Kanyakumari district, Travancore.
Subrahmanya Kovil, Takkala.

The couple walked into the hallowed grounds of the famous Temple…. they were brimming with anticipation and excitement. Understandable, ‘coz the naming ceremony of the first born sure is one of the greatest moments in one’s life. Of course not as cherished as the first time the little tyke yelled “EMMMMBBBUWWWMMMMAAAAAA” {translation: Hey waitress, where the hell’s my Farex?!”} and mommy went “Chettaaaaaaaa, look look! Our chakkarakuttan just said AMMA!” or not as memorable as the time when the Kindergarten teacher hauled you in and demanded where he learned that kind of filthy language from. Still…. it’s a pretty mushy chweet moment. Anyway, the woman was carrying their first bundle of joy, only 28 days old but predictable and “stable” enough to sit through things like these.
The daddy walked up to one of the harried junior priests and asked, “INFANT. STOP. NEED NAME. STOP. LIKE SREEKUMAR. STOP. SEE PRIEST? STOP.”
“Roger. You have clearance.. Will relay message ASAP. Assume positions at Grotto No 3, Hallway No 4 till priest ingress. ETA at 30 minutes. Over and out.” the junior priest managed toshout before he was swamped by an army of bald, vermillion smeared pilgrims just back from Palani. He had no chance, they were armed with Archana reciepts, coconuts and flower n incense baskets….
“What was that?” asks the wife, “You ain’t in that communications room in that British Oil Company in godforsaken Brunei now! You’ve been hanging out with those radio heads for way too long! By the way, I specifically wanted my kid to be called Sreekumar… and you said “like Sreekumar”?!!
“Honey, I want my first born to have any name of Lord Murugan….. thought I would give them a little leeway in that!”, counters the husband.
“Oh really? What do you think of THESE names of Lord Subrahmanya?”, cries the mother gesticulating at the crowd of devotees from Palani.
“Andavaaaaa!”, “Vadivelaaaa”, “Muruhhhhaaaaaaa”, “Kathirvelaaaaaa”, “Padayappaaaaaaa” went the lusty and delirious cries of the devotees…. (If you wanna see REAL devotion, see how Tams pray!)
“Oops!”, said daddy, ” but I bet I heard a Kumaraaaa somewhere!”, and grins sheepishly.
“If my baby gets a Paandi name like those I swear I’m gonna give you hell for the rest of your life”, said the lady with a quiet menacing voice that would curdle the blood of the tiger (as the saying goes in the jungle…… and in Mithun Chakraborty movies)

The Priest soon arrived with the necessary parphernalia for the ceremony, executes them with aplomb and puts the baby in his lap for the coup-de-grace. Looking at the parents and then at the child he whispered softly, “Karthikeyan”.
“Wooooo, that was close!” says the proud dad and winks at his very relieved wife.

———————————————————————————
Fast forward to 1955,
Tiruvalla, Travancore.
The home of two soon to be ex-commies.

“Long live the revolution, Comrade Husband. Isn’t it time we gave our daughter a proper revolutionary name?”, asked the young mom, a teacher.
“Errrrr, long live the revolution and all that, Comrade Wife. Look, isn’t it the convention that kids are named on the 28th day….”, replied the husband, a soldier. ” Maybe we should wait until she’s 28 days old. She’s only a cpl of week old now, right?!”
“What? Confirm to the defeatist, superstitious, artificial norm imposed upon the toiling masses by a class of faux “godmen” and priests with vested interests?”, charges the daughter of the revolution with a fervor dear departed Comrade Stalin would surely approve!

“OK, OK….. you are right! What names are on your mind, darling?”
” How about Suslov?”
“Huh? Who the hell is Suslov? Oh never mind…… but isn’t that a guy’s name? Oh yes, like that Mikhail Suslov!”
“Errrrrr, yes. But who’s gonna complain, doesn’t it sound a bit like Susie?”
“Oh No you won’t. My daughter’s gonna get a real Indian name!”>
“Doesn’t the revolution have any women heroes?”, asked the wily hubby,
Sure enough, the flummoxed mom thought for a minute and said, “Seems like we need to change the approach. Comrade Trotsky had always advised this…. he put it to good use while fighting Kolchak’s White Army. This was before he fell into disgrace, mind it! I’m not giving the name of any goddess or heroines of backward looking, counter-revolutionary “epics” or such…… let’s think of a secular, progressive name”.
“Make that an Indian name!”.
“Hmmmm, Okay. I like it when my students have a good handwriting. How about Sulekha?”
” Done.”

——————————————————————————-
Faaaaaaaaaaast forward to 1981
Trivandrum, Kerala.
A run-of-the-mill marathon debate in a middle-class household.

Dad: ” …… Okay, we have run through the list of past presidents of my party, leaders of the national movement and we have yet to arrive at a feasible name for our firstborn agreed to by both parties, viz Myself and my honourable wife”.
Mom: ” {Ithiyan still is in the vakil/parliamentarian mode….. Sighhh, what am I going to do with him?!} I don’t think a name like Pattabhi Sitaramayya or Khudiram Bose or Kamalapathi Tripadi or Gopal Krishna Gokhale or Jawaharlal Nehru would suit my little angel! He ain’t a Gultu or Bong or Gosayin or Pandit for one thing…”
Dad: “Well, we can snip the regional sounding last names and use…”
Mom: “No! Nyet! Nahin! Illa! Nein! I execute my veto power in this matter”
Me: Goooo goooo gaaaaa daddaaa gaaa Ghaaanabbdu gapppakaaaa mubbbbbwwwaaaaa chhhoowwmmmma. Nennnnnissssan Gupppaaaaattaaa Gooo Mmmmmwwwaaaaa nennieee jmmmpaa gaaaaaa? {Translation: “Hey, scroll back. I kinda like the Khan Abdul Gaffer Khan name….. sure will impress the lay-dees. Kinda rolls on the tounge too! And Nellie Sen Gupta sounds exotic, but is Nellie a girl’s name? “}
Dad: “Hullo…… what’s this? My son’’s started to talk already?!”
Mom: “Nope. I guess he’s hungry AGAIN. He’s always charming and articulate when he’s hungry. Quite some avataram we got as our firstbon! Here’s your bottle son.” (tries to put the formula filled feeding-bottle in my mouth)
Me: (Furiously writhing my limbs and spitting out the bottle’s teat) {Translation: “I shall NOT let my opinion be stifled by these acts of incompetence and official high-handedness! This is communication breakdown at it’s most terrible form! I demand an audience RIGHT NOW….”}
Mom: (shaking her head) “Oh right, now YOU give me attitude! “
Dad: “Coming back to the discussion at hand, I now propose to name him after a favourite folk hero of mine…… the true King’s Commander-in-Chiet in our epic Marthandavarma.”
Mom: “Hey, that’s a good one….. but didn’t he act totally fruitcake for half the course of the epic?”

They both look at my extremely pissed self performing crazy callisthenics on the mattress and then at each other….

Dad: “Well…..?”
Mom: “Touche. {Sighs} At least that’s also the name of the presiding deity of this city….. so Ananthapadmanabhan it is! Let my little cherub grow up to be a total badass or a God like his namesakes and rule the desert sands to the polar ice-caps one day. Amen, Inshallah and Swaha!”
Me: {Translation:”Uh ohhhhh…”}
Dad: “The surname as per our understanding recorded in 1981-03-29 18:30 Minute #26 would be Karthikeyan-Sulekha. Motion is hereby declared passed with no dissent. All rise.”
Me: {Translation:”Oh CRAP! This name is long-ass GAY!”}

**********************************

These anecdotes are just ejjambles of what happens 24/7 in our little corner of the globe. Naming your offspring gives the parents this total Godlike power. A power probably they (well at least the dad in most cases) last tasted when momma-poppa dumped the pics of a few dozen members-of-the-opposite-gender-of-marriagable-age and asked him/her to choose any one as the spouse. It’s the poor kids who are often hapless prey to the vagaries of their parent’s beliefs/personal history/fundaes/pet peeves/pop culture. Sure, it’s the right of the parents to name their kids with whatever that comes to their minds, but the kids gotta grow up in this cruel, hostile world na? Especially guys whose names are a factor when it comes to social life….. i.e gals. Don’t believe me? Well….. take a look at this link!

Personally, I myself has never truly 400% reconciled with my long name…… I was the butt of jokes and prey of spelling/pronounciation challenged humans for as long as I remember. Late Fr Pulickal fired the first shot and started calling me “Puppy”…. a butchery of a few syllables of my first name. Though he bestowed me that name with affection, the creatures I was saddled with in school had a field time with my new name. Even today, much to my consternation, the Loyola guys call me Puppy. Now what do you expect will happen if one of those guys descend down on you addressing you as “Puppyyyyyyyyyyy” while you are intently trying to impress the local beauty-queen? Darn….. those searing, raw wounds of youth! Leave alone things like these, I got into trouble with the INS when I went to do my MS in Amreeika Bahadur….. my 18 alphabet first name exceeded the fields alloted to the first names in the INS system and according to them I hadn’t arrived in the US! It took me a month and half a dozen visits to the authorities to sort this out….. I HAD to pull that off so that some trigger happy cop/Feeb doesn’t pop a cap in me when I fail to provide positive identification at some seedy airport. Fellow Mallus could pronounce my phull name, albeit with some effort….. but no such luck with the other Desis and the Goras and Chinese and all. Desis cut it down to Anand (which I always preferred) but the non-desis butchered even that simple name. Finally, I was forced to cut my name short to “Andy” (for non-desi use only) till my Mallu pals found out. They promptly made that phonetic stress at the end and converted it to “Andeee” which of course is the Mallu slang for the family jewels. I finally settled on a universal moniker, Anand K. The K part is cool, right? Like Tommy Lee Jones in MIB and something like Franz Kafka’s characters in The Castle and The Trial.
PS: It’s not that I have a BIG problem with my real name, but I prefer a bit shorter and simpler name…..

Now naming conventions are totally hilarious/lovable (depending on the way you see it) when it comes to Punjabis. There’s that famous joke of a Sardarji jawan who insisted that his CO named his children with authentic Fauji names whenever he recieved a stork delivery. Soon, he had two sons who were duly named “Karnail Singh” (Punjabification of Colonel) and “Jarnail Singh” (ditto with General). His next child happened to be a girl and this put the CO in a fix….. but he solved it soon by naming the girl “Armoured Kaur”!
Maybe it’s the natural heartiness and joviality of the Punjabis that lead them to this “nomenclature standard”….. at least in most cases it’s limited to pet names. I remember a pal telling me of a visit to a Punjabi home and the lady calls out “Oye Lovely, idharrrr aaaaa” and he was expecting a lovely Punjabi lass to glide into the room. What came into the room was a 6′7″, 250 pound fully bearded young Sardarji dude going “Maaaaaaaaaaaaaa…..” in true Dharmendra accent and metre. I sure would like to *appreciate* why some are given names like Ladoo Singh, Fullpower Singh, Dollar Singh and his sister Penny Kaur etc etc…… and I am saying this with no malice! Really vunderful, no?

PS: There’s a urban legend on these lines which explains why we named our new all terrain light armoured vehicle “Tuffy”…… the serving Army chief was a Sardarji you see! Tuffy….. cho chweet name na? Imagine it striking terror in the hearts of Pakis or Chaptas!
Chew on this scene; “Oye Abu Hamza, Tuffy inbound at 2 o’ clock! Bhaago…. let’s get the hell out of here!”

PPS: BTW, Another EME vehicle was named “Hunky” about the same time!

So, what’s the point of this rant?
Well, let me make this a formal request to please take a moment and consider your child’s “future” in this cruel world before you give him/her an outlandish name. MISA Yadav might make a good political statement for Lalloo Prasad Yadav but what does the name boil down to? Maintenance of Internal Security Act! I wonder if she ever took up this issue with the Lion of Bihar. Similarly, hardcore commies in Kannur name their kid Khruschev….. only to get snide casteist barbs like “Krush-Chovan” from his friends. (For the uninitiated, Chovan is a sometimes denigrating term used at Ezhavas of Kerala). Friends, Parents to be, sometimes portmanteaus of your names might not be a very good idea…. sometimes it does work like the case of a fellow blogger (now who could that be? ), but you arrive at very strange/exotic names in most cases!

My funda is that the name should fit your vision for your child (in this light names like Stalin or Lincoln or Ananthapadmanabhan are OK), mix with the normal naming “standards” of the society and the name should *mean* something! It should fit into what you actually are, like your religious, community and larger linguistic identities ( in this light even names like Nanjunda Swamy are fine….. no matter what that internet meme I linked to says). But it shouldn’t go to the degree that it’s DELIBERATELY over the top or wannabe cute/cool or outlandish so that “it stands out” or shows how cool and smart and terndy the parents are. IMO, this smacks of showboy attitude/narcissism rather than any true feeling for your child. What really prompted me to make this post was the snippet I just read that our old friend “Doctor” Arindam Chaudhary of IIPM has named his kid Che Kabir…. so that “he would be a revolutionary like Che but peaceful and spiritual like Kabir”. Maybe it’s just me…. but HOW ON FR1GGIN’ EARTH WOULD ONE MIX CHE AND KABIR ??!!! It would be like say, taking the most sanctified 6th Pativratha Devi Shrimati Sushma Swaraj and the amazing Mary Carey in the same breath! Jeez….. I sincerely hope this is not another manifestation of the his uber-showman character.

Okay, I’ve been on the high horse, on the soapbox for quite a while with something that’s none of my business….. and even apparently contradicting myself sometimes. Still, thought I should pen a few random thoughts on this thingie.
Yeah what? What would I name *my* kids if and when I have ‘em critters? Well, I’ve answered it in an earlier tag; being the staunch “Kangressi” and an “a$$-wipe of the establishment” (as some of my “revolutionary” friends of mine have accused me) I am, I think I’m gonna name my firstborn Indira or Rajiv (depending on gender, of course). Yeah, the now much maligned leaders of old…. ‘coz for all their faults they have done really great things for the nation. Things that casual observers and hyperventilating “brave new Indians” miss…… but we wouldn’t be right here right now in one piece if it weren’t for some of their correct decisions at critical junctures!
But then I have to get the permission of my wud-be Home Minister/Supreme HQ/High Command in that expedition, right? What if she turns out to be from the fr1ggin’ RJD or the Likud Party or somethin?

Peace.

PS: The anecdotes and the persons mentioned in this post are purely partly phictional. Any resemblances or even explicit identifications by the author himself is purely Maya.

Notice: No animals were harmed in the making of this post, save 11 fat mosquitoes and one supersonic fly which at various points of time in the past hour tried to take advantage of my train of thoughts.

I’ve been tagged again…. this time by Silverine. Now I wanted to do another topic this time but this tag’s quite different and it’s doing the rounds in blogosphere. Guess I shall do it when it’s still fresh and hot.

1. Most Desired Celebrity

This is Enya, birthname Eithnee Ni Bhraonain . THE Queen of New Age and Celtic Music…. my fave genres. Classic tall, emerald eyed, true-blood Irish beauty, not like those ever-drunk Anglo-Saxon pretenders who later infested the Emerald Isle. As I mentioned in an earlier post, she was my first crush…… her silken voice, the ambience and her looks (plus that beautiful Orinoco Flow video I first saw her in) just bowled me over way back in 1993. She ain’t drop dead gorgeous and right now she has visibly aged a bit, but her voice and the whole Celtic thing sure compensates it hundred-fold! (Yeah, I got a thing for girls who can sing)
BTW, she has 20 years on me, she’s richer by about 200 million dollars, she’s jealously guards her privacy and lives an almost secluded life in Mandarlay Castle….. Still, hope springs eternal. Since my “awakening” other celebrities have come and gone out of my lecherous “span of attention”, viz. Urmila Matondkar, Sharon Stone (the full version, not the abomination with Alexis’s head on ), Aishwarya Rai, Winona Ryder, Preeti Jhangiani, Udita Goswami etc etc right upto Angelina Jolie now…… but this Irish lady has always held a special place (say about 143 cubic centimetre in volume ) in my heart.
So I guess she’s the one who fits this “most desired celebrity” bill.
Love You, Eithnee.

2. Want to do this one day

Now we are talking! If there’s anything better than Carmaggedon with a monster truck (which I will call Christine after Stephen King’s demonic Thunderbird ‘68), it’s a murderous cross country spree with a fully armed Main Battle Tank with 1500HP engine, 125mm smoothbore autoloader cannon, 25 mm machine-cannon, 2 co-axial 7.62mm MMGs, Phosphorous smoke grenades and full electronic warfare array. I’m going to call her Gogo after that kick-ass Japanese chick from Kill Bill. Quake in your boots mere mortals……. Gogo and I are coming.

3. Want to visit this place

The Moon. And beyond.
One day……. one day.

4. Random Favorite

Don’t ask me!

OK OK….. I’ll tell ya. First of all this ain’t a gag. Honest!
This freak incident occured in the greatest, purest, fairest, tightest, most enlightened country in the world, Pakistan. A prisoner in one of their jails complained to the resident Doc that he has “ishtomak trauwble”…… the Doc takes an X-ray and finds this. The guy says he has no idea how it got inside his nether cavity.
Yeah right! Check out the popular patriotic Desi fora like BRF, Frontier India etc, they are going gaga at this episode. We are officially entering this into Ripley’s Believe It Or Not and The Jerry Springer Show.

5. I was tagged by Silverine

It’s not every day you meet a dudette who has a zany sense of humor plus an engaging writing style. In all my blog-trawls in desi blogosphere I have found only those three crazy females from Sepia Mutiny, Aashraya(Crystal Blur) and zis very Silverine who fits the bill.
So….. here’s lookin’ at you, Silverine! May your tribe increase.
PS: I will have my revenge-i-tag soon, Madamji.

6. Who’s being tagged next.

Hmmmm……. I’m a Johnny-Come-Lately in this particular tag, most of my pals have already been tagged. So I’m leaving this one open.
Interested folks, knock yourselves out….

Shalom.
Rice and Rum for 2008.

I’m taking this cool (open) tag from Jiby’s latest post. This confession will take you folks into the depths of my mind, the darkness of my being……… a journey that would make J-Lo’s “descent into hell” from The Cell look like a Disneyland outing.

RSVP. Bring your popcorn, barf-bags and all that jazz.

My Accent

Amrikkan-Hinglish-Mallu mongrel….. but I can pull off a pretty decent Bheshtern accent when I deliver seminars and presentations, when I wanna talk my way out of trouble or go to impress ze lay-dees (a little more, that is. ). Always wanted to master exotic accents like British, Jive, Russian, French plus languages like Sanskrit, French, Farsi, Arabic, Chinese Mandarin….. and I am working on Arabic and Farsi now.
May I end this section with a tribute to the master Amir Khusrau and quote a tounge-in-cheek (literally) couplet of his. It’s relevant to this particular subject……

My beloved speaks Turkish but I do not,
Oh how I wish her tounge was in my mouth.

BoozeNope. Nyet. Indulge in lotz of other more unforgivable sins….. thought I should leave this one out for you ordinary mortals. I’m not even into popular beverages like tea, coffee, Coke etc….. but I lavv juice cocktails, Sharjahs n shakes.
BTW, ring me when someone has invented a Biryani shake…. I’ll show thee what TRUE INULGENCE is!

Chores I Hate

Cleaning the toilet, scrubbing the tub and waxing the bathroom floor. My prime motivation for getting hitched sometime in the future.

Dog or Cat

I just discovered my love for dogs. Mebbe it’s their loyalty….. cats on the other hand are the vain, cocky and flamboyant gangstas of the animal kingdom.

Essential Electronics

Dell Inspiron 9300 Laptop. Myyyyy preciousssssssssssss……..
W-88 type 450 kT thermonuclear warhead. Just for a horror!
My Angelina Jolie look alike android from Cyberdene Corporation. Fully functional.

Perfume

Denim Silver for Deodorant. I normally keep off deos but one can’t do without them in the tandoor that’s Delhi summer.
Nivea Extra Soothing Shaving Balm. Doubles as perfume too. My fave!

Gold or Silver

Silver. Definitly!
Gold’s for them gals. Silver looks cool and it keeps off vampires n werewolves.

Home

Secret underground lair somewhere in India.
Built by the coven of the Nine Unknown Men in the year 277 BC and upgraded down the ages. Now includes an Olympic size swimming pool, a KSRTC bus stand and a 24/7 KFC outlet.

Insomnia

Hell no!
Devout Kumbhakarna devotee here!

Job Titles

Oberstgruppenfuhrer in the Bavarian Illuminati
Maha Atharvan, Propaganda Department in The Nine.

Living Arrangements

5m by 7m room, modelled on a Tihar Jail cell. Balcony with a majestic view of the surrounding evergrey concrete jungle. 1.5m by 4.5m bathroom.

Most Admirable Traits

400% harmless individual onlee.
My positive outlook. I am at peace with the world and all that is in it.
Sense of humor. I make people laugh with me….. and sometimes laugh at me.
Ceaseless quest for knowledge. Oh well, in other words I’m a bookworm.

Number of Sexual Partners

420 Humans
18 Demons
24 Yakshis
69 Houris (loaned three to Al Zarqawi. They got a virgin crisis over there…. so many Shaheeds coming in nowadays, na?)
7 Apsaras
Baba Yaga
3 Sirens
Xena, Warrior Princess
9 Nymphs
The Ice Queen
The Valkyries
8 Betazeds including Commander Deanna Troi
4 Klingnons
She
1 Wookie
22 Androids

PS: All these are females ( even the androids have Programmed Female Personality)…… in case some smarta$$e$ were thinking otherwise.

Number of Times in Hospital

Hmmm, let’s see….. Born in a hospital in the previous millenium , high fever when I was 9, bad sprain right before my CEE exam, TB scare in 2001, high fever right before my 6th sem exams in 2002 and this *raging* fever in 2004. That’s a total of six times.
Not bad, huh?

Phobias

Commitment-phobia
Claustrophobia
Ophidiophobia

Quote

“A wise warrior carries a second sword”.
“Security through Obscurity”.

Siblings

One little brotherji…… little by years only. The cat’s two inches taller and outweighs me by 30 pounds. He’s the nice kid of our little family while I am the certified black sheep and the bekaar beta all rolled into one.

Time I Wake Up

When the sun goes down and my kind can safely venture into the world of mortals……. to feed.

Unusual Talent or Skill

X-ray vision.

Worst Habit

Nail-biting.
Just a little. Only when I am thinking hard.

X-Rays

Thrice a day, after meals. Followed by UV ray irradiation and Strontium-90 capsules.

Yummy Food I Make

Crow Soup.
Ek Dum phirst class quality. For all ze insufferable untermenschen who takez Panga wit ze Anandmeister.

Zodiac Sign

Gemini-Cancer cusp.
But I am a true-blue Geminian by nature.

People I Tag

First of all…… Poooojaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Yoooooo Hooooooo…….
You know I take a certain demonic glee in saddling thee with all these tags. Especially after you asked me not to .

And who would the other three unfortunate folks be? Ahhhh….. Pink Berry (first time I’m tagging you), Lord Poison and Herr MC! Perfekt!

The CGPU

Founded by Prof. Felip Varkhovsky in 1937 as a sister concern of the Ob’edinennoe Gosudarstvennoe Politicheskoe Upravlenie (OGPU, predecessor of the KGB), the Career Guidance and Placement Unit, the CGPU, strives to select the vilest knaves CET has to offer and release them into the shady world of crime and IT… i.e International Terrorism.

What?! The name doesn’t strike fear into your mortal hearts? You know, we borrowed this very useful concept from Orwell’s seminal classic, 1984. Here the most brutal organs of the tyrannical police state are given innocuous or even benevolent sounding portmanteaus or nicknames. For instance, death camps are called JoyCamps, the War Ministry (note, it ain’t *Defense* Ministry) is called MinPeace (from Ministry of Peace), the ministry that fabricates lies, propaganda and obfuscates everything is called MinTruth! The funda is explained by real world terms like Gestapo and Comintern. While the term COMmunist INTERNational evokes obvious images of fear and repression in most people with those thousands of red flags, lusty slogans, demagogy par excellence, goose stepping soldiers, Triumph of the Will vibes…… the contraction term doesn’t do the same. Ditto for Hitler’s GEheime STAatsPOlizei, which means “Secret State Police”. Parallels can be drawn to the milquetoast term RAW, Research and Analysis Wing, which sounds like some department of the Planning Commission but the title hides the true nature of the efficient, ruthless and professional spy force.

Oh, here I go rambling AGAIN! But get my drift?

Our founding father, former Director Lord Prof. Varkhovsky is blessed with a Sarumanesque talent for selling ANYTHING to even the smartest prey…. the veritable Archsalesman who could sell a shipload of ice to the Eskimos. It was due to his sterling efforts and cultivation of contacts in the InjiNeering and above said IT realms that put CET on the global map, with CETians earning packages from 1.5 lakhs per annum plus two second-hand camels on incarceration to 25 Lakhs plus 72 houris on “termination”. The companies and the organizations and the brotherhoods/sisterhoods started to trickle in at first and then tuned into a torrent by the mid 90s…. the word soon spread into international circles. In the bylanes of Gaza, the gullies of Heera Mandi, the slums of Bradford, the piers of Corsica, the badlands of Bihar and the Ghettos of America, hushed whispers and secret scraps spoke-“There’s a new gun in town!”. So much that the perennial enemies of our shady trade,viz. 007, Inspector Vijay, Gigastar Balayya from Guntur, Vaijayanthi IPS, Padayappa, Captain Prabhakaran, Sunny Paaji and Gunmaster G9 have turned their malevolent gaze towards us. But fear not, our sleeper acolytes toiling endlessly for global domination in entities like Ghengisys, Tamerlane Consultancy Services, Galactic Empire of Emperor Palpatine, General Ecclestic, The Illuminati, Asian Born Bovineannie, Vaallmart, Wipe-Off RAW, Jihadman Suxxx, The Borg Collective, Asathyam, D Company etc cannot fail to bring us to final victory!

To understand and appreciate the recruitment process, let me give a few examples of the no-quarters-given interviews that take place in every season.

Case 1:

Bull Klinten Corporation, Arkansas (K) on the desk.

Ms. Incontinentia Balconi , IQ = 38+24+36, S-7 Civil Engineering (B) in the hot seat.

K: Ms. Balconi, explain with a simple example how recurrence relations simplify algorithms.

B: Urrrmmmmm….. errrrrr….. duhhhhh.
(Idea strikes) Ohhhhh….veree zimble onlee Saar. As the name suggeshts… (drops her pen).. Ooops! (bends down to get it, stops abruptly and looks sheepishly and coyly at the boss…. as his eyes focus and go glazed and beady into that-which-must-not-be-stared-at-by-true-gentlemen.

K: (whispers hoarsely) Monicaaaaaaaaaa! (Regains composure.) By Kenneth Starr! This one’s an all-rounder!

B: Shirrr? Shomething wraang shirr?

K: Oh, nothing….. go ahead, go ahead! Do take your time. (Makes big tick mark across this candidates name)

Eight hours later, results are out. She’s in.

Bystander 1 (scratching his head): “Aliyo, how the hell did *she* get in?! She’s got 2 supplees (supplimentaries) and just 64% uluva!”

Bystander 2: “Hush, a$$hole! Look ….. she’s bending down to pick up her shoes and her books. Golden chance machan!

(Their eyes focus and go glazed and beady into that-which-must-not-be-stared-at-by-true-gentlemen. The world is true. Cycle of Karma is the ultimate truth. Neti. Neti. )

Case 2:

Half-A$$ Techie(H1) and braindead HR dork(H2) from KlaxonNet on the desk.

A Thampuran (Lord) of Thallu(“Snow technique”/Bullshit) from S-7 Applied Electronics(A) in the hot seat.

H2: So, what are your career objectives in the long run? Where do you see yourself in the system…..

A: Wait, wait, wait! You see, the whole country of the system is juxtapositioned by the haemoglobin in the atmospher because you are a sophisticated rhetorician intoxicated by the exuberance of your own verbosity!

H2 and H1 rise up and applaud: “Wah, Wah, Wah!”

H2 whispers to H1: Such munificent, bodacious, magnacartacious, gnathonic, goobledeegookian effluvia of verbosity! I bet his IQ and EQ must be somewhere in the Troposphere! You know, Troposphere…. the highest layer of the atmosphere?

H1: (Grins sheepishly) Oh yesh, yesh, yesh… but now we got to check his technical knowledge.

H1: Wokay, what is your perspective on the errrr… ummmmm….Viterbi Algorithm.

A: Oh, you mean the Siffredi Algorithm? By the famed mathematician Rocco Siffredi of University of Tuscanny….{Sucker!}

H1 (Looking unsure, speaking to himself): {Hey, wasn’t that the name I read in Outlook? Or was it in The Hindu? Damn, was it Viterbi or Siffredi?}

A (thinking): {Hah hah, I knew I could get away with it! This loser doesn’t watch thundu!}

H2: (Wakes up from dozing) Hey, even I have heard that name somewhere before…… it was sooo long ago. Now where was it….

H1 (looking for a way out): Yes, my mistake. Heh heh. I mean, Siffredi algorithm!

A(thinking): {Heavens! For a moment I thought the HR guy might call my bluff… Anyway, which orifice shall I now pull out a grand new algorithm from?}….

Results out in 24 hrs, A gets into KlaxonNet beating 99 colleagues to a 4 lakh per annum package. Rumor is, he made a HUGE impression on the interview board…

Case 3:

Grizzled veteran from Albert ‘Al’ Zawahri Assosciates (A) on the desk.

Biker Demon from S-7, ME. (B) in the hot seat.

B: ….. and that was the time Tom and I crashed this Enfield into a Paandi Lorry full of cows, and got away with it! The driver had a cow! You get it? He had a cow! He had a cow! NJAHAHAHAHAHAHA…..

A: Interesting. Interesting. {Son of a mangy dog… spawn of a molting vulture, won’t you ever stop yapping?!}

B: You know dude, there was this time I was high on brake-fluid and arrack cocktail and….

A: Wait, wait, wait, my son. Patience is a virtue and heaven awaits those who are patient.

B: You da boss, dawg! Whatever you say!

A: You like SPEEEED? (Voice rising to shrill levels)

B: Does J-Lo have a killer bo*ty?

A: Eh? Oh ok…. I get it. But I would prefer my goat Pakeezah (Zah Zah) though! Anyway. (Husky voice now) You like to CRAAAASSSSHHHH into things?

B: Rev me up, Megadeath on my iPod, juice my ride, lemme crank up the speed and I’ll wreck friggin’ Planet Jupiter and his Aunt Sarah!

A: (Dials a number on his secure satellite phone) Pervez, Osama, Li Peng, We have a winner! Alhamdulillah!

The ones that make it through the gruelling process which seperated the wheat from the chaff, the men from the boys, the FLUTES (subject matter for another folio) from the Mexxx, the women from the Ladies Hostelites and the awkardly feminine from the possibly Civilian (i.e Civil Engineering)………(with due respets to Dodgeball movie), have to pay a Hafta of approx 10000 (Nepal) rupees. Sher’s share of this Hafta goes into the bulk orders for Rapidex English speaking course booklets for the teaching staff in charge of the CGPU, always selected for his command over Parassala dialect of Malayalam (think Rajamanickam times 10)…… another chunk into our clandestine bio-weapons program at the Ladies Hostel and the rest into the “relief” fund for the CGPU student representatives from each branch.
In my days, we had Sid, Harry, EP and K….. two guys and two gals(?) respectively from E1 and E2 divisions of my branch. Equal equal for political correctness, “just for a horror” as the wogs say! Grrrrrrrr. (PS: One of these is an on-off blogger of no mean skill). Poor things did a good job, including successfully threatening a globetrotting IT giant to admit students with one supplee, dusting the cobwebs, sweeping the CGPU floor, fix the plumbing, hauling the furniture around, getting 440V shocks from the Edison era equipment…… and at the end of the day gets pummelled by their own classmates for the tiniest shortcomings. You see, we are an organisation that does NOT tolerate the smallest infraction. After the recruitment season, most reps become wrecks of human beings and walk around with a glazed look, dive for cover and yells for fire-support whenever they hear a sudden noise, goes into convulsions if they see anyone in formal wear…. tch, tch. Suchapity. Here’s looking at you, brave martyrs for our cause….. you shall always live in our minds!

This, my friends, is my brief intro to our eternal, glorious opera that is the CGPU…. and her dramatis personae. May she live a thousand lifetimes!

Footnote: As for my personal experience with CGPU, I invoke the 5th Amendment of the US Constitution- “I refuse to answer on the ground that the answer may tend to incriminate me”. Let me just tell you that the techie who had the misfortune to inteview me abandoned all worldly life and now teaches orthodox Shunyavada at a Tibetan monsatery…… the HR guy was last seen “gone junglee” and swinging creeper to creeper a la Tarzan, by a Serbian mercenary in Zaire.
————————————————————————————–

PS: Civilians and Mexxx and assorted effluvia who have been mentioned here, Dil Pe Mat Le Yaar…..