Bollywood Shollywood

Well well…this is not yet another post about the way Jodha wooed Akbar. This post is more on the line of the existing scenarios in Hindi movies where Jodha tried wooing Akbar and in sides, site adichifies Birbal and does matter with her ex-jaipuri boyfriend. That, in short is the current quality of movies we get to see nowadays in Bollywood.

Indian movie industry is about a hundred years old, evolving itself from the art of theatre. Though the glamour of the big screen has stolen the magic of dramas and theatres, they are yet to reach the standards of the latter. I, personally have become tired of watching movies which makes me hit myself against a wall by the end of it.

After a prolonged review of the movies that were released recently, the following list has been made for ambitious directors, who are in the process of wanting to make it big in Bollywood. I am sure the list is true to the best of my knowledge and has been certified by Abbas and Mustan who were one of the pioneers of initiating mind blowing trends like “Ajnabee” and the latest lackluster hit “Race”

Pre Requisites of Movies that you think will get the producer his box office earnings:

• No story, whatsoever- If at all the director starts thinking of a story, it should contain a minimum of one extra marital affair with the hero’s best friend or the even better, the hero’s driver
• The movie must have a minimum of 3 heroes, no matter how many heroines. The exception being Aamir khan and Sharukh Khan, though even they’ve initiated their own line of side kicks
• One sound track has to be remixed and must compulsorily also have a remixed video. Doesn’t matter if the song does not refer anything related to the actual screenplay
• An item number goes without saying. Skimpily clad girls running around the heroes while we sit squirming before the TV. The more firangi they look, the more we get to see
• If it’s going to be an action movie, the hero would ride the latest model Hayabusa or a Ferrari. This is irrespective of the fact that the hero is a mere police officer/porikki whose monthly income wouldn’t even fetch a maruti!!
• If the plan is to direct a family movie, the plot would start with a bungalow (remember…Bollywood families are never poor) having a huge Khandhan and preferably somewhere in a foreign location. Also, the heroine needs to be a 'Pati-vrata'. That would just about add to the family content of the movie!!
• The worst case scenario is the so called family entertainers/ comedy movies. I really wonder where the directors get their script writers from. Invariably, we end up beating our head with the finest of our chappals rather than laughing. The former activity is directly related to the effort of paying for a ticket to watch a pointless, idiotic and cheap movie.
• Brownie points if the movie has an English title.

The interest in me going to a theater has been so bad that it’s been 7 years since I’ve been to one and that too, to watch a Hindi movie. If I were to make a list of movies for which I actually took an effort to rent a DVD, it would be just 3 movies for the last year.

• Johnny Gaddar – Awesome screenplay. Never took my eyes off the screen for even a second. Kudos to Neil Mukesh for a shana performance
• Bheja Fry- Though it didn’t have much of a storyline, the script made us forget it. Loved Vinay Pathak’s characterisation
• Taare Zameen Parr- Creativity at its best. One of those rare heartfelt movies that has been ever made.
  

What has happened to the quality entertainers we used to see!! Though I couldn’t bear to see another ‘Hum Aapke Hain Kaun’, but at least the songs were worth listening. Wish I could get back the good old movies where the songs were crafted for the story and characters were portrayed with the essence still intact. The movie lover in me still waits for the good old days. Is it worth waiting??? Though this trend hasn’t yet traveled to the rest of the Indian movie scenario, I am sure the day is not too far off.

Signing off,

One crazy movie buff

Maami from C.Pettai

Maami Saagasangal Part I

Growing up was a lot of fun for me. Summers remind of the times we used to have school annual holidays and all our cousins used to meet up at our granpa’s place in a town famous for its leather tanneries. Well…its hardly hygienic, still, our granpa’s house used to have the most huge mango trees in the locality. As all the cousins houses were situated quite nearby, and once the exams got over, we would all rush to his place and have fun. We were six, and in decreasing order of age. Me, being the youngest of the six, used to left out of most of the games. Reasons varying from “You are a kid” “You are too clumsy” “We don’t want a cry baby” etc were normally given and hence, resultant would be that I was left out as a ‘Oppuku chappani’…Sigh! Not that I felt bad, but I always felt it safe to watch gory games like seven stones from a distance. Even with that, I somehow used to be the most injured by the end of the day. Note- The following incidents are purely non-fictional.

When the eldest of my cousin reached 10 yrs of age, he was taught how to cycle and the tradition continued for every summer after that, though the task was taken up further for the next five years by the first cousin who had passed. We used to hire a hero jet cycle from the nearby cycle shop called RDX (Believe me! It is true!!) for 2 Rs per day.

The first time I was let near a cycle was around the time when each of cousins got bored of the tradition. So, after many kenjals and konjals, I dragged my sister to teach me the humble art of cycling. She said yes only after her session with my mom on how to be a role model for sisters!! It so happened that we couldn’t hire the cycle from RDX and hence, she had to lend a “Captain” cycle from one of our relatives. That cycle was comparatively heavier than hero jet, but I was still adamant to learn. The instant I started pedaling, I felt as if I was in heaven. Brimming with confidence, and screaming my heart out, I sped up and went straight to..err..a large upturned stone. Though I escaped unscathed, I do not wish to reveal the status of the cycle. It shall Rest in Peace.

My second experience was an improvement, I should say. This time, I didn’t have just one, but three tutors (cousins again!) with me. All the three had a good track record with 2, 3 and 7 months of prior experience, that being the reason I had selected them for my training. I was confident this time as I even had the hero jet cycle hired for my sole learning. We also had zeroed in on an all empty field which would help me in cycling advanced levels. The weather was fine, the cycle was in perfect condition, and I had the perfect tutors. What could wrong?? Well, the training session got disrupted initially when the owner of field wasn’t happy with our antics. My father asked us to decide on another place to continue my training. We already had a backup option, which was the road behind the pettai temple. What brilliance, I say!! The training went progressively smoother after that and by noon, I had gotten the hang of how to balance the cycle.

At one particular instance, it so happened that I was cycling in the middle of the road with my cousins balancing on either sides, we heard a low rumbling noise. We ignored it and continued the session. Suddenly, down the road, I saw a huge amount of dusty wind advancing. The hard worker that I am, I continued to practise with determination. The dust soon turned out a huge crowd of erumamaadus trundling towards us. The next second, I see my partners in crime fleeing away from the scene leaving me alone. I couldn’t run away as the hired cycle was still with me. Trembling with fear, I was left to save the cycle from the evil vicious erumamaadus. They kept gaining and the distance between me and the maadus kept closing. The tiger in me came out and I started running along with the cycle..er..in the opposite direction!!! Thus, the cycle and the rider escaped from the villainous erumamaadus of C.Pettai. Maami shall not further brag about the aftermath of the incident which includes a couple of crying scenes and a street fight between the cousins. Having returned the cycle safely to RDX, I returned back home having lost all interest in cycling. That doesn’t mean I’d given up. Remaining veera saagasangal shall be explained later. Bye for now!!

Sleepless In Seat-tilt-le

A couple of months ago, I had shifted to the Garden city for work. Being the ardent Chennaiite that I am, I used to book almost all weekends in trains to get back to my hometown. Now, that wasn’t an easy task either. I used to plan all my trips well in advance, get to that ever chaotic Majestic, only to find myself in waiting list no. 453. I mean what the hell!! So much for trying to get home. Sniff! Anyways, there was this time when all the trains were full and I had to book myself in a bus to get home. So, my brilliant friend (yeah, she’s brilliant ‘coz she might be reading this blog and I really don’t want her getting nasty!!) and me got tickets for a sleeper Volvo. She got the tickets booked, so I assumed it would have been well over 400 Rs. Now now, am not too calculative, but I was still running on my first month salary and I wasn’t very good at savings. So, there was me, catching an auto at Indira nagar to get to Bommanahalli and mind you, the autowalas in Bengalooru are the sweetest. They are so good at that maths that even if the cool meter touches 53 rs, it’s rounded off to 60 rs. Grr. After a very good fight with the ever-ranting traffic, I at last reached my destination. Found my friend amongst a huge crowd of, well, tamilians. Apparently, the whole place was filled with all the tourist buses. You name it, Sheik Travels (Sheik?? I mean, the Arabs haven’t invaded India, rite??), the ever sexy Parbeen Travels (reminds me of the times in Chennai as almost all the software companies used to hire Parbeen for its conveyance), Blue Star( So they say!) and of course, the elite, KPN Travels- ella modelgalilum, ella oorukkum, ella vasadiyudan ungalin sevagan!!

Our bus was scheduled for 11.30 PM, and hence, we waited…waited…waited…Damn, was I hungry. The idiot that I am, had finished my dinner at 7.30. Boo hoo… To pass the time, we started our usual gossip news (with occasional groans from my stomach) and had our fun (the better part that day). I also happened to enquire about the ticket fare to her, and got a reply that literally broke my heart. Why would I wanna pay 790 bucks for a BUS ride when I might have been happy with the 150 Rs cockroaches encroached sleeper class in Chennai mail. Sigh. I prayed God not to send a bus with a leaking roof. It had better be good. I wasn’t let down. There came an enormous bus, well after the scheduled 11.30 and only a handful of people boarded the bus. Man, was the bus huge! Well worth the money, I thought then. In we got, and I see this really large seaters. It was a looker all along, as I’ve never traveled in any other bus than our omnipresent MTC. With huge grins, me and my friend made ourselves comfortable in the luxury seater. The bus was air conditioned and I felt even more excited.

This was just the beginning. After requesting the driver anna to drop me down at the outskirts of the city, I started to pull out my scarf from my bulging bag. And eventually, my sweater, shawl and my blanket(I was taking it home for its monthly bath!) also came out. Yeah, it was little bit cold initially, and became worse further. We could hear our teeth chattering and our stomachs rumbling. Well, I admit it is a bit exaggerated, but hey, its was pretty cold! The trauma traveled to my bladder too, heard it complaining that it was full. Well, a couple of doses of ‘Anna, Please anna, edachum petrol bunkla niruthunga’ helped and the grumpy conductor anna took pity at my plight and stopped the bus at a dingy looking bunk. Again, the journey started and we wondering if we should settle down and sleep. That was the tricky part. One bump and we would slide down till the edge of the damn seat. You couldn’t sleep ‘coz there wasn’t a proper seat, just a slide. Even when you doze off, you couldn’t get to shift to any of the sides. We kept falling down. Thud! My bags fell down. Thud! Now I fell down. Thud, the aunty behind my seat fell down. Couldn’t find a place to keep my legs either; which ended up in cramps. Wondering which genius had designed these seats, I gave him my quota of gaalis that included sweet and lovely words like ‘P******! P*******! Kandupidichaan paru oru seat! Okkara mudila, paduka mudila, summa soinsoinnu pogudhu! K*****!!!!!’

I couldn’t even open my mouth about this to my friend. I tried to be polite as she had been nice and had booked the tickets. But it was just getting out of control. Just as I opened my mouth regarding it, the great driver anna banged on the brakes. Well, what can you imagine. Our brilliant and patient pettai maami was thrown out of the seat to the aisle way along with her bag!! After getting back to the goddamned seat, I tried to stop complaining and get some sleep. Just when I was about to fall asleep, we passed through a sign board saying ‘Poonamallee-10kms’. Boo hoo…So much for coming home for a loving weekend; So much a 790 Rs ride!

Lesson No. 1- Never book yourself in ‘luxury seater’ buses for a meager 6 hour ride!

Lesson No. 2- Never leave home too early without proper dinner or with a full bladder

Lesson No. 3- Never complain about your friends.

Lesson No. 4- Indian Railways Rock!!!

P.S- After the Poonamallee sign, I had actually dozed off and missed my bus stop. Had to get off at the main bus terminus and catch another Bus (Sigh!) to get back home.

Namaskaarams

d Allos, d vanakkams, d hi's and d Bye's.

Adiyen maami has started a blog, hoping to increase confusion in the already chaotic blogosphere.
Resident of one of the many pettais in Chennai, maami shall try her best to limit her ranting and shall present you some of her experiences added with a dash of milagu podi.

Readers shall further continue at their own risk!!

ps: Maami is relatively new to blogging. Any stones to be thrown are most welcome in the comments section