Author: manuscrypts

  • Act of Life

    Prithviraj (for those who might not know) is God’s Own Controversy’s Child, though the title has other strong contenders like Kochi Tuskers, and its star Sreesanth, and Ranjini Haridas, the compere who defies comparison. Prithviraj also stars in movies while he’s not busy adding credentials to the title. As you must have noticed from the last line, he’s a person who manages to polarise public opinion. 🙂

    Since any further commentary in this direction would have the potential to ignite a troll war, let’s get to the point of the post. Hailing from a family that can’t get more filmi (late father was a popular actor and Kerala’s own angry young man in his era, mother is an actress, brother is an actor and sister-in-law is an actress too), Prithviraj can usually be found within a few metres of the spotlight, if not in it. His interviews are a lot of fun. Reasonably well read, from what I can gather, highly opinionated, and oblivious of tact as a concept (something he himself acknowledges), he either makes intelligent conversation or tries to play footsie with his running mouth. (most recent example) Entertaining either way, and so I make it a point to watch his interviews.

    Thanks to our original underworld hero Mahabali almost being forgotten at Onam, and Prithviraj playing an underworld don in his Onam release, all the channels queued up to interview him. As always, they provided lots of fodder for hilarity. But the one on Kairali TV (I think) happened to be an interesting conversation, also thanks to the interviewer. Something that the actor said about working with Mani Ratnam in ‘Ravanan‘ caught my attention.

    Apparently, Mani Ratnam manages to identify and understand an actor’s comfort zones within a couple of days. He then proceeds to put them in situations they would find uncomfortable. His reasoning is that he doesn’t want their acting to be affected by their conditioning or them to fall back on the learning from earlier characters they have essayed. I thought that was a really smart way to bring some freshness to even the most veteran of actors. Wonder if Prithviraj gained this insight himself, or the director told him.

    But it leads back to a life lesson on conditioning. The routines, the benchmarks, peer pressure and the other daily grind machinations force us back to our conditioning. I know (subjective) from experience how difficult it is to look past the attitudes and responses that smack of conditioning. I have found it difficult to sustain whatever levels of objectivity I might have built up over a period of time. Even when I disrupted a routine, the disruption became a routine. It is as though the equilibrium is always a comfort zone.

    What is a measure of the mettle of an actor? Is it the way he manages to make a done-to-death character come alive or is it how he handles a completely new character convincingly? I guess you’d say both. Unfortunately, I don’t think ‘both’ is an option when you apply this measure to how one lives a life. You’d have to choose one role and play it really well, isn’t it? Life is the movie, there are no re-takes, and getting out of the character is a really difficult thing to do.

    until next time, roled into one.

  • Biryani Pundits

    Sometime back, while on a Natural Ice Creams (map) expedition in Koramangala, we found that an iconic Koramangala food spot had gone missing – Sonakshi Sharma’s Family Restaurant. In its place was Biryani Pundits. Though we did visit soon after, missing out on the Biryani among other small things, I decided to wait for an official review in Bangalore Mirror before I published it here.

    It’s located in Koramangala 1st Block, near Sichuan. Usually it’s easier to park in Indiranagar and take an auto, but you can try your luck in one of the side lanes. You’ll have to climb a flight of narrow stairs to get to the seating area.

    Take a look at the menu on Zomato. If you’re up to it, you can mix and match with the Chettinad, Tandoori, North Indian, and Biryani that’s available. There are also value-for-money priced, ‘legit’ combinations available. As you’ll notice, the menu doesn’t have a starter section, but there are more than enough items in the ‘Fry’ ‘Tandoori’, and ‘Daily Specials’ section that can serve the purpose quite well. In fact, with Quail 65, Prawn Sukka, Crab Soup, Fish Cutlets etc listed among the day’s specials, there was much lip smacking. Unfortunately, none of the items in that section were available, and that left about a dozen ‘Fry’ and a few Tandoori options.

    The Chicken 65 was the pick of the starters, boneless, succulent and quite spicy thanks to a chilli paste. The Lamb Liver Liver Fry was just a shade below, and though the masala couldn’t be termed spicy, it had a flavourful zing to it, helped by the green chillies. The Pundits Special Chicken just about passed muster with a masala that seemed to be a ‘ghee roast’ wannabe, but without the ghee or the texture. The Paneer Chilly turned out to be a disappointment and the least spicy, with the Paneer in a guest appearance and corn flour and capsicums hogging the limelight. Though the chicken was tender, the Chicken Tikka Boneless was quite bland, despite peppery attempts.

    The Chicken Wheat Parotta Koththu is quite famous as a street food and Biryani Pundits does a good job with it, not being stingy with the chicken, and with a slightly spicy and consistent masala featuring ginger garlic, chilli and turmeric flavours. The Lamb version was not so fortunate with the masala, as some portions were too salty. But here too, it needs to be mentioned that there was an ample proportion of meat. One of the drawbacks of an enthusiastic service was that they brought the entire set of dishes at the same time, despite the order having things like appams , Wheat Parottas and Biryani, which really need to be served hot. I expected the egg appam to have an unbroken yolk, but that was not to be. However, it did a good job otherwise, making a good combination with the Lamb Curry , which was the only item that redeemed the main course. The meat was tender and juicy and the gravy, while not overly spicy, had a piquancy about it that made it a favourite. The Chicken Pepper Masala was a also quite a dud, with no sign of the pepper. The Wheat Kerala Parotta obviously lacks the fluffiness of its maida counterpart, but is still a safe bet. The same can’t be said of the Veg Lbabdar, which somehow tasted all wrong. An extremely dominant tangy flavour made the dish quite unpalatable. Much was expected from the Special dosa, priced higher than the egg appam, but it was just a roast dosa, which could barely hold on to its crispiness. But the biggest disappointment was the Pundits Special Chicken Biryani, special because it used kababs, but the masala made only a fleeting appearance. Also mildly irritating was having to ask for the raita and the brinjal chutney that were supposed to be given along with the dish. And when they did appear, it didn’t make much of a difference either. The other disappointing aspect was the non availability of dishes. To feature items like ‘Lamb Head Masala’ and ‘Quail Biryani’ on the menu and not have it is gross injustice, and enough to convert carnivores into cannibals.

    The menu does not have a dedicated section for desserts either, and our only hope was the ‘traditional sweet’ promised with the biryani. That turned out to be another item we had to ask for, and when it did arrive, the jamun was a tad too sweet and syrupy.

    For a restaurant that has Biryani in its name, Biryani Pundits have quite a way to go before their offering delivers some dum.  Some of their dishes are quite good, but the unavailability of items doesn’t really help their cause.

    Biryani Pundits, No:1018, 1st Main, 80 feet Road, Koramangala. Ph: 8880050001

  • Timestamps

    Thanks to the weird processes of online tax filing, I had to go to a real post office sometime back, and realised that I hadn’t visited one in at least 8 years! That’s the time we have been in Bangalore. I clearly remember frequenting the one near home in Cochin, and the one in Goa, housed within the GIM building. But 8 years is a long time. The Rs.5/ Rajiv Gandhi stamp was something I’d never seen before and told me how out of touch I was.

    Like many others, I too used to list ‘collecting stamps’ as a hobby. I remember the last time I was in Cochin, I fished out the briefcase that has been the caretaker of my stamp collection for many many years now. The collection had a much humbler residence in its early days, when I was in school. I only realised later that Dad had an interest too and can now imagine how horrified he must have been when he found that foreign stamps could be bought from stationery stores. Fake stuff, but good enough for ‘exchanges’ at school.

    The circular Singapore one, triangles, ‘diamonds’, Malaysian butterflies. There was even a ‘3D’ one, from Bhutan apparently! The circle, a few triangles and the butterflies were original, I think. 🙂 Later, a grand uncle, who could actually lay claim to serious philately gave me his entire collection which included a lot of first day covers and half/1 anna (currency not hazare) envelopes. Priceless stuff!

    That’s around the time when dad gave me the briefcase, though I can’t remember why. It used to be the one he carried to office, and was special because it had a number lock! Yes, it was fancy then. Along with albums, the entire collection had a new home. After a few years, it was ignored, thanks to the many other interests that made their way into life. Many years later, I chanced upon the briefcase, and realised I had forgotten the code! I somehow remembered it, but became paranoid about it and gave the briefcase a makeover, one that can now be described as a Ghajini theme. All over its wonderful brown exterior, the number now exists – in various sizes and colours, courtesy the magic of permanent markers!

    And that’s how I found it in the room, coated with a layer of dust, and safe behind a bookshelf, housing those tiny pieces of paper that allowed messages to travel over distances. Mobiles, email, social networks and evolution of self and others, all have contributed to the demise of a snail mail culture that included among other things, pen friends and chain mails, a glimpse of the person through his/her handwriting and the sheer joy of a mail waiting for you when you reach home.

    And with that, perhaps a related hobby is also forced to breathe its last. This generation will probably be among the last to know of post offices and a hobby called philately. I wonder what the legacy of the stamp collection is. Maybe the briefcase is just like the other baggage that I own, a friend who reminds me of an earlier era, whose story and context end with me.

    until next time, a briefcase history

  • Chasing the Monk’s Shadow

    Mishi Saran

    There are some books that one wishes went on forever, for the vicarious experience offered is incredible. This is one of those. Long after the pages have been completed, the journey promises to stay in my mind.

    It is now exactly a decade since Mishi Saran started on her journey – to follow a monk who had himself made a journey of over 10000 miles, 14 centuries before her time. Xuanzang, who I last met in my history text from school, the monk with the neat backpack.

    The book hooked me right from the time the author described how she found a purpose – “an Indian woman with a Chinese craze, a Chinese monk with an Indian obsession, we had the same schizophrenia, the monk and I. It seemed logical to take the same road.”

    The best journeys are those which traverse time and space in one stroke, and that’s exactly what this book does. Though in many ways, it could be described as a travelogue too, that would be utterly unfair. It is very much a personal journey for the author, a search for her roots, and identity.

    As Mishi Saran travels across China and Central Asia, following Xuanzang’s path, her vivid prose blurs the boundaries that have been created in the modern era, and its easy to see the influence of ancient civilisations and regimes influence art, architecture, language, customs and thus life itself. And at the edges, where its not just cultures that collide, but religions too, as they are reshaped or recast in different moulds – Islam, Buddhism, Sufism…

    The writing style forces one to make the journey with her, and I could see that there were actually three journeys unraveling simultaneously – the author, the monk, and the Buddha himself. All of them journeys with a purpose.

    And amidst all the eloquence, it has obviously been a journey that required grit and courage.. And luck, which many a time failed the author. From places where children going to school needed visas and permits, to the posturing of a few contemporary students of Buddhism, to the origins of words that are still used in common parlance, and characters which seem to leap out of history pages – Ashoka, Kanishka, Chandragupta, the pages hold in them, tangential journeys for the reader.

    The last part of the book, where the author gets to (almost) finally visit the territories crossed by Xuanzang in Afghanistan, is written a month before 9/11, and gives us a gripping account of Afghanistan under the Taliban, with glimpses of people who have perhaps yet to find peace. “I believed him. It was hard not to believe a man when you were standing in front of his blown-up home and staring at the ruins of his life. Whatever the story was, this was his truth.” Unlike fiction, one cannot console the self that the person and his story are imaginary. The last part of the journey does not add a lot with respect to the purpose of the book, but it’s a part that I’m glad the author chose to add here.

    As a reader, I could relate to the author’s words in the last page “…I understood less, not more…. I had acquired this sadness”, and that is what makes this book one of the best I’ve read.

  • Fake my life

    Funny Confession Ecard: I am no match for the perfect, carefully crafted online version of myself.The perfect life, that’s what I called it – the phenomenon that has spread across the two social networks I frequent. Facebook Photos is nothing new and has come up here as a subject for discussion earlier. But its rise has been meteoric, just like the social network. The best vacations, the coolest friends, the hottest parties, the snazziest gadgets, seems everyone can haz it. 🙂 Twitter is not far behind. People, almost like brands, out to show their best side. Made for Facebook/Made for Twitter/ Lies of Life, call it what you will. Of course condolences would pour in if someone had a distressing update. Either outrage against the wrongdoer if any, or at least a +1 to show solidarity. Unfollow, unfriend you’d say, but these are not bad people, they just have a perfect life. 🙂 Unfortunately, the networks work as emotion aggregators too, forcing me to vent once in a while. [image source Check it out for more awesomeness :)] And yes, I generalise. 🙂

    I have wondered about the motivation. Maybe we like to share happiness more than sadness by default. Maybe sadness is a private thing we choose only to share with dear ones. (do you think there’s a social network idea there? A mutant version of Path) Maybe the algorithms ensure I see only the happy ones. Or maybe it’s indeed true that our vanity stops us from showing that we have been humbled, beaten, saddened by a human hand or a twist of fate.

    A few minutes after I tweeted about the perfect life, I got a message on the blog (deleted now) from an old dear friend S, who had gotten in touch after quite a while. In the long years before a virtual home, when a real diary was a lifesaver, hers would probably be the name that was mentioned most, before the rise of the  thenceforth omnipresent D. 🙂

    S isn’t on twitter, so she would have no idea of the coincidence. She was happy about the progress I was making, doing the things I love to do and generally having fun. And that led me to wonder if I, in my own limited way, was also feeding the perfect life network. So here’s setting the record straight. In case you see my vacation photos, restaurant visits and general attempts at humour and think that the story begins and ends there, you couldn’t be further from the truth.

    As many of my posts would indicate, I have multiple ‘missed life crises’ – singer, author, theatre actor, h3ll, even cricketer, and perhaps a few more too, all skills I have either displayed to some degree or think I possess. 🙂 I think way too much for my own good and am forever irritated at the inequity of life (in terms of those more unfortunate) and not being able to do much about it. I am constantly trying to shed baggage and sometimes failing miserably. My feelings of insecurity would be legend if they were a published work. Thankfully D exists. There is more, but that’s enough fun at my expense. The silver lining is that I’m learning through it all. Meanwhile, all I’m trying to say is that the grass on the other side is probably photoshopped. If it’s not, they’ve probably worked hard to make it this way. And we can too, if we try. Please smile now, and mean it. Or I’ll have to ask you to Like the post 😉

    until next time, open source happiness

    PS: It was only recently that I gave off my fakemytrip.com domain to mygola. I had bought it thanks to an irritating status on FB, and had a 4sq based idea around it. 😀