Thursday, March 30, 2006
And guess what else? If you watch the latest Owen-Foster-Washington thriller, Inside Man, directed by Spike Lee, the opening credits featuring a montage of New York City, feature the track "Chaiyya Chaiyya" from Dil Se. No, not as way-back-in-the-background music as some tape playing in a taxicab - its in the SCORE. And the Punjabi MC remixed version plays with the ending credits. Isn't that cool? I mean, this is way past "Hindi Sad Diamonds" in Moulin Rouge - this is the entire track. And in true Hollywood style, the song is incorporated in the background score CD.
And with every movie featuring a South Asian actor or character, and now, music, is it long before Indians break into the mainstream?
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
When I first heard of this flick, I really assumed it was a Being John Malkovich-type flick. Well, I was wrong about the premise, but Cyrus does adopt a lot of the darkness and surrealistic approach from Malkovich.
The movie falters towards its close, after building a severe amount of mystic hype - and a certain degree of skepticism as to whether the end will justify the means. Saif Ali Khan does a stellar job as the enigmatic Cyrus Mistry.
The movie highlights the characteristic strangeness of the inter-breeding Parsi community, and the director accurately captures almost all of their idiosyncracies. But, when it comes to the crux of resolution towards the end, this dikra has a significant downfall.
Another hour-and-a-half songless flick that captures your attention and makes you want to turn to Bollywood and go "more like this, please". What pleases me about movies like Cyrus is how far they deviate from the stereotype. This is definitely a hallmark of the new breed of Indian Cinema, which will define the next 100 years. A few slaps on the side in the story and screenplay department, and this train will be chugging back on track.
Monday, March 27, 2006
"You try not to (think of the negatives). I think that's what all golfers do, we rationalise everything. You hit a bad shot, it's not that bad. You should always try and look at the glass as half full. There's always a bright side to everything, you've just got to find it sometimes." - Tiger Woods after dismal putting at the Players, yesterday.
And therein lies the issue. Finding it. Identifying it. And most importantly, it being enough. It never usually is. And this is not just pessimism. Its pretty realistic.
I would write more. But I'm still recovering.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
A thousand apologies to everyone who reads my blog (yes, all two of them) for not having posted in a while - as I am engaged in a reminiscent and hedonistic jounrey (note: alcohol causes typos, because it contains the homoprotein, typose. it also kills my non-existant humor cells) as part of the 10th Anniversary of PM weekend. I would love to give you more details on our escapades, but I'm sworn to cult secrecy on this.
But its great to be back on campus, and catch up with old friends! Bringing back killer memories of Philadelphia. Breakfast at the Food Trucks, before rushing to the classes I actually attended (yes, all two of them). Steiny-D. Pottruck. The Quad. Locust Walk .. and of course, the mecca of musical stages - Irvine Auditorium. Will post pictures soon (the censored ones, that is). Until then.... adios ... and a dum-ba-dum-ba-dum to you too ;-)
Thursday, March 23, 2006
What would you say about a movie that was made on a production budget of $25,000, and ended up grossing over $600 million? You'd say its pretty darn suckcessful, innit?
Well, that typo was intentional. The movie I'm talking about is Deep Throat, Gerald Damiano's directorial sleazefest that ushered in the sexual awakening of the 70s, and brought Linda Lovelace into instant stardom. Although the movie has the strangest premise, faced miserable controversy, skyrocketed a country-wide furor over Obscenity laws, was funded largely by the mob - but developed the grounding for what forms one of the most successful LIMO businesses (a management term for Less-In-More-Out) in the world - grossing over $57 billion worldwide - for what is essentially an underpaid, low production cost, initial investment - gold mine or not?
These thoughts are courtesy of the new exposive documentary, Inside Deep Throat, outlining the sexual revolution of the 70s leading into the volcanic burgeoning of the adult industry - all owed to this one movie that broke the ice, but with catastrophic results for its cast and crew - especially Linda "Lovelace", who met a tragic end in 2002 - while the San Fernando Valley Lords continue to thrive as the Sultans of Smut.
A man who could come up with a screenplay like Memento deserves god-like status. What genius!
I have also concluded as of yesterday that we are a disposable generation. The few of us who have no qualms, no scruples, no hyper-emotionalism and no preset commitments to our master plan on life - are the ones who don't end up curled up in depression. The ones that do, are terminally ill. Not just because they are hanging onto the value system of the generation prior to ours, by the thin, splitting thread of belief, but because when reality saddles up, gallops at them and bites them in the ascot, it will be too late for them to change who they are.
After that seemingly pointless diatribe - just 'cuz your life has no imperfections in it, doesn't make it perfect. just cuz your life has no perfection in it, doesn't make it imperfect. Its unnecessary for there to be drama in your life, because when there isn't it feels like its in abeyance of some kind, and once injected, drama stays in your lifestream for a significant span of time before wearing off.
Everything is temporary. Everything is disposable. When life itself is so unpredictable, why do we bother so much with a an un-quantifiable entity like commitment?
As I feel I said is most succinctly in "Khayaal?",
Zindagi bhar woh saath nibhaane ke khwaab kyun dekhte hain ?
Jab yeh zindagi humaari, khud, hamaara saath nibhaa nahin sakti ...
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Processing takes your time ....
Your boss takes your enthusiasm ....
Citizen White Boys take your fiancee ....
Green Card takes your hopes...
Wait times take your patience....
Marlboro Man takes your lungs....
Life takes Visa ... the H1 visa ...
(brought to you in part by the Immigration and Naturalization Services, a.k.a. Satan's Mischievous , Red-Sword-Yielding Dwarfs)
(Major Creative Input: Zeenat Rasheed)
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Allow me to soberize
Before I forget, comments of the night:
Nick: "With boxers, I'm just flipping and flopping, my boys need a home!"
Nita: Doesn't the Empire State Building seem kinda phallic, this time of the night?
Nick (again - on a f***ing roll): Lady Liberty looks like she could give some phenomenal head (yes, the HQ of the group at this point is pretty high - horniness quotient).
Vish: What time's the 5-o-clock bus leave?
Becky: Lets not start sucking each other's d***s, just yet (no, she's not like that. just quoting the Wolf from Pulp Fiction - or so the official story goes).
Becky: If I do throw up on you tonight, just know that I still love you, ok?
Good times, people, good times.
Friday, March 17, 2006
It took me a while to figure out what a fagbag was, until I realized that she was talking about a 'fanny pack' (which sounds so much better, doesn't it? so much more masculine).
Ah, Erika. Tu es tres hilarious!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
(Spoken through the voice of a helpless old man, at the hands of sword-wielding religious terrorists, who question his 'mazhab')
Agar hindu ho tum, to musalmaan samajh kar, maar daalo mujhe
Agar muslim ho tum, to hindu samajh kar, maar daalo mujhe,
Agar khoon karne se tumhaari pyaas mit ti hai, to maar daalo mujhe,
Agar tumhaara imaan ise insaaf kehlaata hai, to maar daalo mujhe,
Kabhi, apne wajood par ghuroor tha mujhe,
Kabhi, is insaaniyaat ka karta tha mein sammaan,
Abhi, ek tarah se dekho to mit chuka hoon main,
Ab insaaniyat hi nahin rahi, le lo tum meri jaan,
Kyun khade ho tum aise, uththaao apni talwaar,
Is andhe qaatil ko kardo, mere seene ke paar,
Banaado mujhe is jung-e-mazhab ka shikaar,
Isme tumhaari hi jeet hai, aur isme tumhaari hai haar.
Meri duniya ab tumhaari hui,
Mere anth se gale milaa rahe ho mujhe,
Mera mazhab hi mera gunaah ban gayi hai,
Aur maut hi bacha sakti hai mujhe
Yeh masoom bachchon ki cheekhein, nahin sun sakte hai yeh boodhe kaan,
Yeh vehshat nahin bardaash hoti, le lo tum meri jaan,
Mere dost, is gunehgaar par kar do yeh ehsaan,
Is zindagi ki qaid se azaad karo, le lo tum meri jaan,
Par khuda ke liye, ya bhagwaan ke liye,
yeh baat kabhi na bhoolna tum,
Aaj ke din, tumne jiski li hai jaan,
Woh na Gita padta tha, na padta tha Quraan,
Woh na hindu tha, na tha woh musalmaan,
Woh bilqul tumhaari tarah, tha …. ek insaan
And this is
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Kya hota hai pyaar aakhir ?
Ya chaahat ? Ya dillagi ?
Ek paththar bhare raste ke mod hai ye,
Jise kehte hain zindagi - Vishal
No, not comparing myself to the genius of Jalal-uddin Rumi. Just trying to outline by contrast, a distinct non-positive current in my writing. I say non-positive, because its not exactly pure negative. Its around the same precinct, but a few blocks away. On the slightly sunnier side of town, but with clouds looming over, threatening to rain.
I guess that's just how life is, innit?
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Friday, March 10, 2006
So I turned DJ today and was messing with two tracks. "Tore Bina Mohe Chain" from the Background Score of Kisna - which is basically a classical rendition by Ismail Darbar, and "Right Here Right Now" from the OST of Bluffmaster.
What resulted ... of course, in extreme ghettoness of a per-minute crashing and trial version of Audacity .. was rather interesting.
Check it out here
And btw ... now I officially go by .. DJ Vishal.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Dogs? That's mean. Meridien Management, please don't talk about the President's chief advisors in that tone! He prefers that you refer to them as his "four-legged canine confidantes", with whom he shares his most personal thoughts, and whose opinion he considers equal to his own. Based on their woofs and fancies, Dubya has made some of the most key political decisions that have shaped his policy - the war, tax hikes, pooper-scooping Katrina, Social Security - which have made him the wonderfully loved, approval-laden President that he is today. In fact, you remember that scene in Fahrenheit, where Bush is informed about 9/11, and he sits quiet for nearly 15 minutes before leaving for D.C. - its only obvious what was going through his head. "Gosh, what would Rufus do?".
In other news, thanks for sharing your opinions on pro-choice and abortions, Dr. Parita Sahani ;-) Very profound info from a very insightful person :-)
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
For Terence Howard. From the Memphis accent, to his portrayal of a broke pimp trying to make it big in hip/hop - his performance in Hustle & Flow is off the hook! Highly highly recommended movie! I love the way the songs build up - esp. Hard out here and Whoop that Trick. Caught this flick again on Demand yesterday, just for that trademark elevation. But its not the kind that 8-mile gives you. H'n'F is a little bittersweet. So many variables.
All in all - recommended viewing. Makes you really think about whether you're wasting your life doing something that you think you should be doing - or whether you're in it for the ride?
As Notorious B.I.G. put it - "Either you're slinging crack rock, or you've got a wicked jump shot!". However you do it, you gotta make it up to the top, right nigga (oops! don't shoot!)
Peace out, world!
"In the history of the world, the true test of a civilization is how well people treat the most vulnerable and most helpless in their society," said a statement.
I just don't get society. Really. The flip-flop nature of our judgements and the necessity for approval lead us to do some strange things. On one hand, you have people still trying to figure out whether fetuses are capable of classification as members of society - because one interpretation of the Bible defines social existence from the point of birth, and not conception. If not, then abortion would be as bad as tossing out a bad egg. As the superior race, we have no issues questioning the fact that live, grown animals are still being hunted for game, but make it a big deal discussing the doing-away-with of unborn human fetuses. Terrorism and related devastation leads you to believe that all that remains at the end - is faded memories. There is no concept of retributive justice. Waging a war on a nation does not avenge a massacre of innocents. And while society is all wrapped up in dealing with issues that puppetmasters cast before them like biased dice, the supremos themselves are busy in modifying the destiny of the world to their political convenience. What fate hath wrought?
We reside in an era where religion is masked as a motivation behind heinous acts of mass destruction, it becomes essential for us to redefine the word itself. Religion - Untitled in its purest form. By giving it a name, you are not enhancing it, or personifying it. You are only insulting its characteristic chastity. Demoralizing its identity. I call it 'a nameless tribute to our source of existence'. Because in its anonymity, lies its essence. If we are destined to learn of it in entirety, someday, we will....... Let fate be the page turner for the book of circumstance. She does it best. How do I know that fate is feminine, you ask? Because she takes hours (ages) to make herself look presentable, but only a second to change her mind (course)".
Peace out, world.
Monday, March 06, 2006
I really need to re-watch Crash now - because I never viewed it from an Oscar perspective. Was it better than Syriana? The films had a lot in common. While Crash reviewed immigrant experiences and their intrinsic discomfitures, Syriana was more petro-political but still had the same Soderbergh-style parallel yet interwoven plotlines, like Crash. But I felt Syriana had more of a pertinent and global message, and much more fiber vis-a-vis Crash - this is purely comparative because both films are phenomenal in their own respect. Syriana was more impactful, while Crash was more introspective.
But heck, to each his own. In between Jon Stewart's hilarious hosting histronics, Ang Lee on stage was saying "I have this to say to my wife..." and Didi completed his statement - "I'm gay, honey". That would make sense, wouldn't it? So if Ang Lee's gay - his wife is going to be quite AkeLee, no?
Peace Out, World!
Something about the NYC subway keeps you awake and seeking. Isn't it just the best? Especially on Saturday nights, you always the 'stink cabin' phenomenon - the inevitable cabin on the 1 or 9 where someone has thrown up because he/she mixed straight JDs with Apple Martinis. The inevitable Jesuit converter, usually Black and well dressed even at 4 AM, reading out passages from the Jehovah's Witness' Guide to Screwing With People's Minds. Notice that its only when you're drunk that you actually end up listening to these guys and saying stuff like "Right on!". Also, there's the inevitable wannabe musician selling CDs, the old-black-man a capella groups (some of whom are really good) and of course, those kids selling M&Ms for their so-called Basketball team, who shadily talk on Razrs and drive Miatas to "work" - woo hoo, talk about charity.
Ah but its New York. The New Yorker has a big red sign now, so you know big and bright where the shittiest rooms in the city are at. Gotta love the city that never sleeps. As Carrie says it best, "Despite the fact that there are over eight million people on the island of Manhattan, there are times you still feel shipwrecked and alone. Times even the most resourceful survivor would feel the need to put a message in a bottle, or on an answering machine".
Saturday, March 04, 2006
we have kids ... we deal with their every concern ... clean their butts ... feed them ... soothe em .... teach em .... then they grow up .... meet friends .... friends are the cause that they are embarassed of us .... they get embarassed of who they are .... divorce their culture .... try to be white ... black ... hispanic. .... grow up confused .... hate us even more for putting them in that situation ... think we smell ... think we talk wierldy ... start cracking fob jokes at us ... and knock us in the Shady Pines Old People's Home one day leaving us thinking ... man, i cleaned his butt to see this day?
(spl. thanks to T for her inspiration)
Friday, March 03, 2006
After the suicide bomb killed a US envoy in Pakistan, Bush, in neighboring India, quickly vowed to stick with his plan to fly to Pakistan's capital, Islamabad, on Friday."Terrorists and killers are not going to prevent me from going to Pakistan," Bush told reporters.
Right on, Dubya - but they sure as hell can prevent you from coming back!
Co-passenger: To aap kaam kahaan karte hain? New York mein?
B'waj: Nahin, Manhattan mein
Co-passenger: Achcha! Mujhe to lagta tha ki aap New York mein kaam karte hain. Aap karte kya hain?
B'waj: Mera murgiyon ka mutual fund hai. Naam suna ho gaa.
Co-passenger: Achcha? humaare ande ka business hai. Eggjackly Brothers. Actually, Henpecked Consulting? Naam kuch familiar sa hai. Pichle saal aapki murgiyon ne thode kam ande diye the ... kuch udhaar baaqi hai lagta hai.
B'waj (upset): Dekhoonga dekhoonga. Farm jaake accounts dekhoonga.
Song in background (SPB trying to sound Northy): "Do andewaale chale zindagi banaane, murgi sambhaalne aur omelet pakaane, OMELEEETTT PAKAANE
This time I've decided to add a smidgen of Gulzar's Angoor as well ... here goes... btw... my friend's name is Bharadwaj!
Start: B'waj's second interview at "Bahadur" Outsourcing (Deven Varma starting his own supari oursourcing firm, against Sanjeev Kumar's constant oppression)
Bahadur: Aao Bharadwaj aao. Bhaang piyoge?
B'waj: Kyun nahin? kyun nahin? ... KYA???
Bahadur: Kuch nahin. Tum IS AADMI ko jaante ho?
B'waj: uiii maaa, yeh to Thaakur hai.
Bahadur: Ramesh Sippy ke liye yeh Thaakur hoga ... lekin mere liye ... yeh mera jaani dushman hai ...
Bahadur: Inki khushi ki khaatir maine kya kya din dekhe. Prema ko Ekta Kapoor ke serials ka chakma deke, Ashok Babu ne use Bombay bhaga diya . Suna hai ke Zee TV ke kuch serials mein YUUN khadi dikhaai deti hai. Aur to aur - mera eklota grey kurta-white pajama ka set chori kar ke gayee. Ashok Babu jab jab khush hue hain ... main barbaad hua hoon ....
(B'waj offers tissue)
Bahadur: Lekin ab bahut ho gaya.
B'waj: par ... par .. par .... main to Investment Banking karna chahta hoon ....
Bahadur: arrey investment banking jaaye bhaad mein. yeh supaari ka dhanda
hai, supaari ka!
B'Waj: Arrey? pehle bhaang. phir supaari? yeh consulting company hai, ke
paan ki dukaan?
Bahadur: KHAMOSH! pehle mere ek gambhir savaal ka javaab do...
Bahadur: tumhaare resume par thook kyun hai?
B'waj: Oiii maa. Ek hi copy thi mere paas.
Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote ... man, after he played the embarassing, forgotten child star who can't get rid of his star complex in Along Came Polly, I thought this guy was the bomb. But in Capote, from the little that I've seen, I really feel he deserves an Oscar.
Reese Witherspoon should pull off Best Actress (and I agree with Ebert that Dame Judi Dench shouldn't pull this one), and I will officially turn gay (finally!) .... if Brokeback wins Best Picture, after all the excessive lobbying, because if it doesn't, someone will be velly ang-lee.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Humaare khayaalon ke azaad parinde, jo aasmaano mein udte the,
Na jaane kaise, yeh duniya ke pinjron ko bardaash karne lage hain
Manzil ki khoj na karte the hum, bas udne ki thi ummeed,
Na jaane safar mein kab se, manzil ki talaash karne lage hain
Dhoondte the zindagi ki raahon par, pyaar bhare woh pal,
Dhoondte the zindagi ki raahon par, guzre hue woh kal
Us safar ki tanhai mein, ek humsafar ki thi ummeed,
Na jaane kyun, us humsafar ki chaahat mein mitne lage hain
Ubhar aaye mere woh sapne, jo barson se dabaaye hue the,
Na jaane kyun, woh khayaal mere bhi paraaye lagne lage hain
Aur woh harjai, jo beechch raste mein, haath chod gaya tha
Na jaane kyun, hum usi humsafar ka saath chaahte hain
Zindagi bhar woh saath nibhaane ke khwaab kyun dekhte hain ?
Jab yeh zindagi humaari, khud hamaara saath nibhaa nahin sakti ...
aadaab arz hai .......