I went in yesterday knowing that reviews said the movie wasn’t great, but I did expect some nice bits here and there and the music to make up for the disappointment that everyone had dubbed it to be. And well, at the end, I was as confused as the movie was as to how I felt about it!

Not all movies need to have stories – some get along just as well with lovely portrayals and bits – and while this movie did have quite a few of those, there was something lacking that made it fall apart.

It seemed like there was so much going on, so much that the director wanted to tell us, and unfortunately, his screenplay and editors wouldn’t let him do so, so he packed all he can that he thought made sense and put it in 2.5 hours. What a waste of stories/thoughts that could have really given us some poignant moments to take away from the movie?

Anyway, I’m sure the movie’s been hacked to death by many reviewers, but here’s what I liked:

1. Abhishek. Not only was he cute – the first ever time I have found him so! – I think he pulled off the American thing well. The good thing about his character was that he didn’t smirk or frown at the various things Indian – no ‘I have to carry this bucket into the bathroom?’ or ‘I want mineral water’ or unnecessary ‘In the US we do this-and-that’. He slipped easily into India and everything Indian, determined to have a good time. I wish someone had dubbed the American accent for him, though. Couldn’t pull it off.

2. The spontaneity with which Abhishek slapped the local inspector and landed in jail. The naivety with which he remarked ‘You are a public servant!’ which earned him the slap. No random huffing and puffing about India and stuff. Borrowing his oft-repeated phrase, ‘cool’.

3. Rehna Tu and Dil Gira. Very, very, lovely. Though I thought Rehna Tu was a song on the lady, it was a fresh idea to picture it on something else. Dil Gira.. was heavenly. I loved the colours, the painting-like-finish, and I’ve just fallen in love with the song even more.

4. Ali Uncle (Rishi Kapoor), Mamdu (I don’t know his real name) and Gobar (Atul Kulkarni). Among the few people in the movie that I thought had some strength to their characters.

5. The movement of the camera, be it jumping like the kaala Bandar or as Abhishek jogs through the street or the scene in the mosque that made me gasp in awe; the lighting that was so pleasant and complemented the mood and feel of each scene.

6. The way various things in Hinduism were portrayed, without making fun of them – the cow giving birth in the middle of the street (‘Mother cow giving Baby cow’) and how Waheeda Rehman is simply back to normal.

These are pretty much all I remember from the movie. The rest of it is a hazy hash of random things happening, sniggers from the cinema audience when people cried in the movie, and the other miscellaneous things that I cannot remember.

I'm mad with joy!!!! Speechless, grinning from ear to ear with everyone around me wondering why I"m maniacally grinning..
Gosh I can't type.
Just wanted to remember this moment of extreme happiness. That I"m an insane fan of this genius!
More later, but thanks to dearest amma for letting me know the news.

My eyes burn and I despair at the phenomenon called ‘Monday’, of the start of the working week, of the pain of waking up early, going to work, and living through another week.

It’s been a good 9 months since I started working, and Mondays are still not something I can come to terms with. Why do I have to work, I wonder, and what’s the point? And this stretches into deeper, unfathomable ponderings about why we invented so many things, when all we need are the basic food, clothing and shelter, and ok, hospitals – which means there should only be four kinds of jobs in the world – farming, weaving, construction and medicine – why are there THIS MANY jobs and kinds of things to do – stretching from banks to Public Relations and advertising and insurance? How did the world become this complicated? Why did it grow so big that we need trains to get from one place to another and engineers to design those trains and how they run and architects to build those stations and technicians to run them? Why did people start earning so much and have the concept of ‘money’ that we needed banks, which finally grew so enormously shady and everything and ended up ‘lending’ money and now owning what we call ‘toxic assets’. Why did we have to start manufacturing the same soap across hundreds of countries and sit and plan the numbers of these soaps that have to be produced? And why did these companies have to so LARGE that they all need machines to do their calculations supervised by humans, and have humans write codes to run these machines? And me, as a ‘Public Relations professional’, help all these organizations deal with these changes and help maintain/form a good impression for the company among the people’s minds.

Gosh, when did things take such a complicated turn?

Pardon the random musings of the Chennai gal on a bright Monday morning, but writing things like this helps me get ‘closure’ (I’m using this word very often these days, I realize, and what’s more interesting is ‘closure’ is only temporary for me) and get practical about the fact that despite all my thinking and philosophical exercise to the mind, these things still happen, we still slog, work day in and out, earn money, spend and do other things that we hope compensate for the fact that we have little/no life, and spend our long-awaited-weekends doing more things that help console us about the sad truth that ever since we turned 3, we have lost the simple pleasures of life. Excuse me, the phone rings, work beckons.

P.S.: This rambling took all of ten minutes, but now I'm charged, and ready to face the week!

I first saw her on my way home from work and stopped dead on my tracks. Bright, big and beautiful, she was shimmering in the night. It was captivating. Without any hesitation, I decided to go in pursuit of her.

Of course, she wouldn’t give in that easily. She felt mischievous, and hid behind trees, turned into buildings, and sometimes, vanished into thin air, till I’d stop again and looked wildly about, for she could have gone anywhere.
And then, I found her.

She grinned at me from between the trees, and I realized how silly I was to have gone looking for her in just one direction.

Lost in my thoughts, I lost her again. I walked aimlessly, forgetting my way home and forgetting where I was. My shoes were pinching my toes and I winced in pain with every step.

Finally, I found her again. Her shine made me find her, and I fished my bag for my cellphone to get a picture of her. Alas, it was of no use – nothing could capture her glow, the sheer intensity with which she radiated her happiness, and I was forced to just give up and stare at the beauty. Rich, creamy, surprisingly, even spotless. Kaise Mujhe playing in the iPod was the perfect accompaniment to the out-of-the-earth feeling, as I stood stunned at the wondrous capabilities of God – how could He make the moon, dripping with radiance akin to that of a gushing, happy bride? How did He know of Music?

I came back, wishing to talk to no one, just wanting to savour every bit of those few wonderful moments, and reliving them by playing the song, longing to be able to float in a dark pool with the song playing and the moon shining brightly up a dark sky.

P.S.: I know the pictures are quite awful, but that's the best my old camera could do.

P.P.S.: While gushing over the moon is quite normal for me any Pournami, apparently, today's moon is/was the brightest and biggest in some 50-over years.