Category: Flawsophy

  • Decision Faker

    Of all the books I’ve recently  read, one I liked immensely was Thrity Umrigar’s “First Darling of the Morning”. Some of it had to do with her wonderful articulation of the pop culture phenomena close to my generation, some of it had to do with her personal traits, which I could identify with (“The more silent and introspective I grew from the inside, the more smart-alecky and verbal I felt compelled to be“), and a lot of it had to do with her honest portrayal of human relationships – their gray areas, their changing nature with time, and many such nuances. Will put up a review here soon.

    One of the things that made me think was this

    And finally, I know that the world still belongs to the adults, and although, in their kindness and mercy they may pretend to share it with us, ultimately it is still their world. It is they who decide when we are old enough to stop playing with dolls, when we should give away toys that they’ve decided we’ve outgrown……”

    I tried to think back to the first decision I had ever gotten to make by myself, but I couldn’t think that far back.  I remembered the days in engineering college – love, politics, future plans, all of which were perhaps my decisions. I also remember getting back from GIM and feeling exactly the way the author describes her last days in college.

    I am nowhere close to being ready to be anything but a college student. The world suddenly feels too big a place for me to navigate.

    And then it dawned on me, that however much I’d like to think that decisions are my own, they perhaps aren’t. There’s always a set of people who play a role in the decisions, directly or indirectly, influencing the outcome. But the decisions are made, for better, or worse. In her acknowledgment, the author uses a phrase “Thank God we don’t get what we deserve in life”.

    When i see ‘kids’ these days, this one for example, or N, and the seeming ease with which they take decisions and handle themselves, I wonder if its a generation thing or a personality thing. Even at this age, there are days when, just before I sleep, I wish I could go back to those times, when by the time I got up, my parents/ grandmother would have fixed the mammoth problem that had seemed so future-threatening to me the night before. These days, I wonder if they ever felt all grown up and in control, or were they just pretending, like I do  many a time now.

    until next time, deservedly so.

  • Putting on an act

    For a while now, Renjith has been the gold standard (for me) in Malayalam cinema. Yes, he still disappoints occasionally, but his good works more than make up for it. So I had no hesitation in booking tickets at PVR for Pranchiyettan and the Saint. In addition to writing, directing and producing the film, Renjith also lends his voice to Saint Francis’ character, who starts speaking fluent Malayalam at the end of a hilarious sequence in which Mammootty questions whether the Christians of Kerala were being idiots by praying in Malayalam to a saint who couldn’t understand it.

    If someone had shared this script with me a few years back and told me to pick a lead actor, I’d say Mohanlal. But not anymore. The two superstars of Malayalam cinema have always been contrastive, on and off screen. Mohanlal earned his chops with portrayals of characters that we could either easily identify with or be in awe of. We laughed with him, cried with him, egged him on. In the mid nineties, he moved on to roles that had more serious shades. Less than a decade later, the actor in him died, leaving fans like me fighting discussion crusades that lacked heart. His last good performance was Thanmathra. When people talk about his supposedly superlative performances in films like Bhramaram, I wonder if they have lowered the bar, as a favour to their favourite actor.  I can understand that, most of his other releases make me cringe. I also wished movies like Pakshe and Pavithram hadn’t been made earlier, so that he could’ve done them now. His interviews make me wonder how this serious person with a philosophical perspective on even mundane things could ever have done those amazingly funny characters early in his career. Its a glimpse of the abundance of acting talent he possessed. Now he is just a superstar.

    Mammootty, on the other hand, I had never considered a brilliant actor, despite films like Thaniyavarthanam. It was his screen presence and the strength of characters that carried him. Cop, lawyer, CBI sleuth, he brought a special something to the role, which made him a star. But the thought of him doing comedy was funny, despite coming across in interviews as a very witty, fun loving person. Over the years, he has slowly scaled his repertoire. Now he dazzles us with films like Kaiyoppu, Loudspeaker and Paleri Manikyam, each a different genre and style, and even in utterly nonsensical films like Pokkiri Raja (a Tamil film made in Malayalam, go figure) he displays a comic timing that makes you forgive the movie. In an equally masala commercial movie called Daddy Cool, in one scene he references a character he played 13 years back! Instant Classic. At 56, the method actor has arrived.

    Mammootty is now extremely comfortable as an actor and is not afraid of even having fun at his own expense. The things the mimicry guys used to feed on – his dancing skills (lack, that is), hand gestures are all part of his own comic repertoire now. On the other hand, Mohanlal is a shadow of his former self. One can actually see the labouring that goes into his acting now, where, once upon a time, his portrayal of characters seemed so natural that we regularly forgot it was an act.

    I thought about both of them in the context of talent and passion – last week’s post. Having seen the above two, I have to wonder again whether passion commands more perseverance than talent.

    until next time, cut.

  • Food notes

    For the last few weeks, I’ve been hooked on to MasterChef Australia. (the show’s site reveals the winner, this is the wiki entry) For those unfamiliar with it, its a cooking competition-show that airs on Star World.

    I’ve always liked the idea of food – more the consumption than the creation, of course, as you probably know. While I’ve begun to appreciate nuances these days, instead of focusing on solely gobbling up the food, cooking is still far away. My most famous exploit (and that’s only reheating) thus far has been the aluminum-foil-packed-food-inside-the-pressure-cooker-incident. I have a restraining order from D – I am not allowed to handle steel vessels and the microwave, when they exist in close proximity. D, as you probably know, has to show a lot of restraint anyway.

    But we digress. The show has interested me even beyond the awesome cooking that happens on it daily. I’ve never really been a fan of the music and dance reality shows, and after I began watching this show, I wondered about it.

    I enjoy music, but have always flipped, channels that is, when i watched those shows. Maybe its the one-upmanship games of the judges, or the showboating, or the SMS driven degradation of a god given gift, but they have never worked for me, though i have noticed some supremely talented performers.

    There is a passion in the cooking contestants, all of them – maybe they’ve managed to capture it well – a will to win, and they work hard for it. We can see the efforts, and the judges’ appreciation and backing – a sense of fairness. Perhaps I haven’t watched enough of the song and dance shows to notice any of this.

    Though both require honing, music (vocal) is perhaps a talent and cooking, a skill, to which creativity adds layers. So the latter, I thought, would require more of an interest, and more hard work. Does that mean the passion for it would be more than that for a talent, which might be ignored, because it has been given without asking. I guess either would be okay, if you had the passion and perseverance  to get it to its logical conclusion. Interest without talent, and talent without interest, both are sad states to be in.

    until next time, fortune cookie 🙂

  • Crowded Out

    At restaurants, in movie halls, in malls, I sometimes come across people who’re there all by themselves. Not the corporate warrior catching a quick lunch, or the guy catching a movie in a multiplex to kill time, or the husband who got lost while his wife concentrated on the shopping, but the people who look like they wished they had someone to share the moments with.

    I see them furtively glance at the other tables and people, as though trying to steal a vicarious experience. I sometimes wonder how they came to be that way – are they introverts who never managed to get out of their own company, or people who found their partners or soulmates, and lost them midway to life, or did they make a choice of being alone, only to regret it much later in life.

    And then there’s the flip side too. Happened to see Robin Williams’ “World’s Greatest Dad” recently, and was reminded of that. While I agree that ‘lonely’ and ‘alone’ are not the same, I quite liked this line from the movie

    “I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you feel all alone.”

    In a hyper connected world, with its own sets of cliques and norms and validations and more often than not, a lack of compassion, that is a thought I can relate to. Thankfully, the movie’s soundtrack offers a solution 🙂

    I’ll say who cares
    When people stare
    I will make myself invisible
    Yes I will

    Invisible – Bruce Hornsby

    until next time, virtual immaterialism 🙂

  • False Memories

    I read this interesting post titled ‘Time traveler‘, thanks to a Reader share. (Mo?) Its about memories not being the same for two people, even if they’re part of the same events in life. So, who’s to say which memory/recollection is real and which is not? “The past is just a reconstruction of our minds, then.”

    I came across a similar thought in ‘Lunatic in My Head’, where a twenty-something guy plays slides from two decades back. Though he’s present in the slides, he has no memories of them, and he felt that it was unfair that his parents should possess those memories, but he doesn’t, even though he was present in the slides. He is forced to rely on his parents’ recollections, but sometimes rebels by creating stories and arguing with them.

    Maybe these reconstructions of the mind are based on an identity we have created for ourselves at that particular point in time – in the present. So all events, people, concepts, understandings are seen through that prism? And as time moves on, the prisms change too, like some sort of kaleidoscope, where every memory gets rearranged in context, based on our changing perceptions, notions and views.

    And not all the photos and posts and tweets and videos can ever be free of a prism, some prism. Maybe we change our own memories too.

    until next time, prism break.