Controversially Yours – More like “Potrait of the Express”

One always pictures ghost written autobiographies going through a particular development process – The subject gets one draft ghost written and submits to the editor to go through. The editor goes through the draft and sees if there is adequate material which if leaked can cause enough uproar to
1) Generate free publicity to make genuine readers know about the book
2) Make the non readers curious so they buy it just to see if there is more such baring of the soul.
If not, he must ask the subject to add some masala, some hook to attract more sales.

We saw this with Adam Gilchrist’s book. Selective passages related to the Indians were leaked in India, caused uproar and must have spiked the sales. Fair enough. Here the process must have been different. The editor on receiving the draft instead of suggesting additions must have requested, nay, pleaded to the Speedy One to REMOVE certain objectionable content so as to not attract a case of libel. For Shoaib has written this book as he used to bowl – In your face with the intention to hurt.

To his credit, Shoaib starts the book with a very nice and sensitive retelling of his childhood days. He talks about the poverty and the compromises his family had to do to make ends meet. Here we find a very humble Shoaib describing his childhood with a lot of respect given to his parent, siblings and friends who never ceased to support him. Even in this phase we get glimpses of our preening peacock with exclamations of “I’m gonna be a star” and his long sessions on “Shoaib’s thinking stone”. But it is lesser and leads you to think of an additional dimension to the personality of this enigma.

He talks of his struggling days in a filmy manner – after all for him, this is the first act of a Hindi film, the struggle of the star. He thinks of him as a hero in the film. Heck, he even compares his eyes to that of Salman Khan. He talks of sleeping on the footpath before the trials for his first employers. Here we are supposed to go “Oh, this guy has slogged to get what he has!! Applause.” but again the cocky manner in which he goes through this passage puts you off a little.

On getting his first job, Shoaib loses whatever humility he has mustered while narrating. Here he turns into a pissed off snake and starts hissing and spitting and lunging towards all his enemies, real and made up. He blames his employers for not supporting him during the Karachi riots. He talks of unpaid dues and non selection to matches. He talks of the angst of being wronged. He goes melodramatic. He leaves his job, gets selected to represent a Rawalpindi team and unleashes hell on his ex team members by yelling at them. And his international debut is yet to come.

He talks of his debut and the poisonous atmosphere in the dressing room. He fires his first shots against Wasim Akram by implying that he was threatened by his presence. He does not spare the rest and gives the feeling that from the beginning he was his own man in the dressing room. He talks of being dropped, then being bought back due to Waqar being dropped. Here too he burns Akram by crediting his politics for getting Waqar out. Not that he spares Waqar. He gives Waqar the treatment later. He talks of Eden Gardens and his head turning two deliveries. he then goes into 1999 World Cup calling himself the MVP even though Saqlain, Akram, Razzak and Mahmood took more wickets and conceded lesser runs. He strangely does not give his wicket tally.

He talks of being banned for chucking, the entire machination which led to him being recalled and the testing process on Australia. He blasts the PCB for almost giving up on him. The testing process is a good read and gives some great insight on the entire throwing issues.

Shoaib has targeted everyone who came his way during his international career. He has this schizophrenic way of first belittling someone and then praising him. He talks famously of SRT not being a finisher and then praises him by saying he has developed his finishing game in the last 3 years. He disputes Dravid’s match winning skills ignoring the 2002 – 2004 phase where every Test win had a Dravid masterclass behind it.

Even in the games he played, he displays selective memory. During the 2004 ODI series he says that the bowlers did a great job in the 1st ODI. 344 runs in reply of 349 runs is not the result of a good job by the bowlers. He barely mentions India’s historic victory but whinges about being accused of faking injury in the 3rd Test match. He claims of not being able to bat in the match. However everyone saw him hitting sixes in that match showing no discomfort. Only discomfort was in the eyes of a visibly furious captain Inzamam Ul Haq. Maybe our eyes were deceived.

In fact in the entire book, the only stats mentioned are his bowling figures when they were good and the blasted speed gun. Ahh, the speed gun. I have never seen so much ink being spent on describing the speed gun and its results. The man is obsessed with it. More than 70% of his coverage of the 2003 World Cup is spent on that delivery bowled to Nick Knight which clocked 100 miles. The fact that Pakistan lost the match is glossed over. He even gets a quotation from Knight where he says he was scared like shit while facing the ball. Funny, I saw that match and Knight had played that ball with the minimum of fuss. In fact some of the quotes of opposite players that Shoaib comes up with are unintentionally hilarious.

He then reaches the phase where he used to be rested more than played. He plays the wronged hero again and again. At this point you want to yell, “Enough of it!! Who told you to bulk up like a mad man and put more pressure on your brittle bones?” He offers explanation for that too saying the muscles supported the bones. If that is the case, bodybuilders should be able to bowl 100 miles all the time.

He has some good words for Bob Woolmer and explains his entire pushing saga as a misunderstanding. He evidently has respect for the man and credits him (a little) for his good show against England in 2005. Here too he whinges at not given the Man of the Series forgetting the awesome display of batting by the actual winner.

He then whinges more, does some politics and tries to get in the team. He gets picked for the final phase of his career, gets dropped for doping and then hitting Asif and then, more whingeing.

He witnesses the spot fixing from a distance, expresses disappointment over the juniors and brands Asif as a criminal. Then comes the World Cup 2011 and his announcement to retire. He then expresses disappointment at being benched forgetting the awful bowling against NZ. He gets piqued over sitting out for Wahab Riaz against India. He sees Pakistan lose and declares grandly that result would have been different had he been picked. Forgetting that Wahab took 5 wickets. Forgetting the 2003 shellacking. Forgetting a rampaging Sehwag. Forgetting…forget it, you get the picture.

His last chapters are over miscellaneous thoughts he could not talk about earlier in the midst of bashing all and sundry. Here we see a grown up side of him. His thoughts on handling fasties are more an open application for a fast bowling coaching job. Even then there are some candid thoughts. He admits of being a rebel without a cause, of being a maverick. not in these words. Because what is Shoaib if he starts owning up.

I genuinely feel that reading this book gave me a great insight into the mind of this unique person. This book showed the vulnerability, the megalomania, the insecurities and the bravado of the man we know as the Rawalpindi express. Read it just to get a peak into his mind. What you read may not be 100% accurate. However it serves as a mirror to the mind of Speedy One.

Random Thoughts

1) While Arundhati Roy grates on the nerves and has views which are half baked and diisturbingly anarchic, threatening her with the Sedition Act is not done. We are a democracy and freedom of speech, however idiotic, disturbing and perversely funny the speech may be, should be protected.

2) The great thing about India’s performance in the CWG was the success of the women, specially those from Haryana. What was not great was the utterance of the father of one such winner about killing her if she deviated from “tradition”. Listen you bloody chump and those from your ilk – your daughter has achieved more than you and a thousand sons of your bloody “biradiri” have and ever will. Wake up from your tradition fueled sleep, take off the “izzat” tinged blanket and for God’s sake, fucking grow up.

3) In my home state, a curious little scam involving allocation of prime real estate at a pittiance to influencial parties is being unearthed. What is significant is the name of dear ol’ Ashok Chavan, the Maharashtra CM being taken as one of the beneficiaries. This following the sting operation where it was alleged that CM Chavan “raised” Rs. 2 crores for a rally being addressed by adarniya Soniaji. Talk about good fortune!! Foul play, doesn’t it look like?

4) My current hobby before sleeping is browsing the Pakistani news sites for their opinion pieces related to India and the US. The vitriol being spewed in the name of unbiased editorials is funny in a perverse way. The country is a tinpot “democracy in name only” running via remote control which is in the hands of the uniform wearers. Its financials are in doldrums and its economy is in a precarious state. It relies on the US for survival. The US in turn does its typical dadagiri. The editors forget the US aid and focuses only on the dadagiri. The tone of these US related articles is such that the aid portion takes one or two lines while the “jyaagti”, the “imperialism” portions take thousands of lines. Hey people, you invited Uncle Sam in your territority in return of roti, kapda and makaan. Now do not complain what they do to you in return. Then there is the India bashing. Anything and everything is blamed on India, specifically RAW. The name of RAW is invoked with sheer disgust. Never knew our faction ridden intelligence agency is this good.

5) The Ashes beckon. THe English are overly confident of their chances. They have had a string of good result. Conversely, Australia are in a relatively bad portion. The English say that the Aussies are at their weakest having lost 3 Test matches in a row. However if one looks a little more closely, it does not seem that simple. England’s successes have all come at home. Australia’s defeats have all come overseas. Australia has lost only one series at home in this decade. That loss was against South Africa with the scoreline of 2-1 in a 3 Test series. The teams had then played another 3 Test series in South Africa where the Aussies whacked the Springboks 2-0. So, I would never bet against the Aussies in a 5 Test series at home.

Random thoughts on Robot – Chitti Chitti Bang Bang

Some random thoughts on the latest offering of the Super Star:
1) It seems this is the first Rajni film in long time where the entry scene of Rajni did not feature
a) Someone being beaten up through a hybrid of aerial kung fu and Indian dishoom dishoom accompanied by a galaxy of dhingchak sound effects.
b) A cigarette being thrown in the air in such a way that it fell perfectly between the lips of the Sooper Star.
c) A kickass dialogue being delivered.
d) Goggles being deposited on the ears in a way not comprehended or visualized by mere mortals.
In a way, the entry scene without any drama signified to us that this is no normal Rajni film. Never has so much been spoken by a simple scene in a masala film before.

2) Aishwarya Rai plays the role of a medical student. While she is as plasticky as ever, the lines on her face makes you think that she would have been better off playing the role of a teacher.

3) The pace of the first half is quite sedate. However it does the job of setting up the character of Chitti. The lovely special effects are like cherry on a cake.

4) Just special effects are not enough. You need vision and Shankar’s past films have shown that he does not lack it. In Robot he has surpassed his past films. The “Rajni converting into devi avtaar through electro magnetism” scene is something only mavericks like him can think of.

5) All our Hindi film hot shot directors should watch this film. Just to understand that you can be as modern as you want without leaving out the traditional Indian masala ingredients. A Hindi version would have been based in the USA (cough, KJo, cough). The hero would have been eating pizza rather than Indian food. The entire burning building scene had a nice mix of good special effects and a touch of Indian masala. You may not agree with the poor girl’s decision (Heck, I do not) but at least something related to Indian values (regressive, yes, but still) was being shown. Where do you find this in your typical high budget Bollywod film? (Hirani’s films being an exception.)

6) The mosquito scene was so ourtrageous that one could not stopping laughing. Only one word to describe it – trippy.

7) Chitti questioning his creator about why he is not allowed to love is a variation of a theme seen in sci fi films like Blade Runner and the works of literary giants like Isaac Asimov. I just loved that someone for once did not take the Indian audience for granted and included such a complex plot point.

8) Technically speaking, the film was a huge surprise. In a positive way. Chitti’s superpowers were explained scientifically. One can ignore the mosquito scene as it was too hilarious to take seriously.

9) If the special effects were great in the first half, they were jaw dropping awesome in the second. While the budget is humongous at around Rs. 150 crores plus, by Hollywood standards it (approx. $30 mn.) is strictly low budget. If with such money, such good effects were produced, then surely the film can be shown abroad to attract more business from outside for our VFX chaps.

10) Saw Danny on the big screen after a long time. Curiously, most of his dialogues seemed to be in Hindi as in he spoke Hindi rather than his voice being dubbed later in Hindi. No idea how it came across in the Tamil version with the Star speaking in Tamil and Danny speaking in Hindi.

11) And yes, all this money would not have been well spent had it not been spent on the one and only Suuperr Star. Rajni is in almost all the scenes. He plays the scientist in a subtle way not going over the top. Even the “good” Chitti is understated with Rajni mouthing some hilarious lines with a straight face. It is when he is the “bad” Chitti that Rajni unleashes. He seems to have relished the oppurtunity to be bad again and virtually chews the scene with his acting. He is so good that you find yourself rooting for him even when he is bumping off policemen by the dozens. You can see why the masses love him. Here he is playing three differant personalities (scientist, good chitti and bad chitti) and he is able to play them differantly and more importantly, make us believe that these are three differant personalities. I bow down to thee, Rajnikant. Oops, Super Star Rajnikant.

Wall Street – Greed is Still Good…just about.

“Greed is good”, so said Gordon Gekko played masterfully (enough to be deigned the best for the year by the Academy) by Micheal Douglas in Wall Street. That film, directed by Oliver Stone became a big success not just financially but also in developing a sustained following. It is recommended viewing for every management graduate. It inspired a lot of Americans to become stockbrokers. It talked about insider trading and scams and became relevant for Indians after Harshad Mehta became “famous”. Wall Street was a phenomenon in itself. What it lacked was a sequel. Until now.

Wall Street – Money never sleeps (title inspired by a dialogue in the original film, go look out for it) follows Gordon Gekko as he completes his jail term and walks out. That he is out of sync with the world is beautifully symbolized by the prison warden giving him his famous 1980s model brick sized cell phone back. He walks out of the prison, looking for someone near and dear to pick him up. He finds noone. He feels disowned by everyone he knew (a scene whose relevance is known later). The focus then shifts to the character of Shia LeBouf, a trader at Wall Street engaged to Gekko’s daughter, a liberal blogger who hates her father. LeBouf is given a fat bonus by his boss cum mentor. One can guess what happens next. His bank (people call it a homage to Lehman Bros. I believe it is more close to Bear Stearns) collapses. It is taken over by a consortium of banks for a pittance. The mentor commits suicide. Here Stone has done well not to show the mentor as fully innocent. His bank is shown as holding a huge portfolio of sub prime holdings. The only thing wrong done on him was that this information was leaked prematurely. The work being of an old rival played by Josh Brolin who takes over the bank. Brolin seems to be playing the Gekko of the original.

So what is the real Gekko doing?

The real Gekko is now a writer on the financial market. He is shown as predicting the imminent crash. People call him soothsayer. I say, he is one of many who knew about the crash. He just has nothing to lose by revealing it. He is shown as living in a rented place and not being to afford to attend a charity ball. His anguish at not having the power he used to wield earlier is beautifully portrayed by Douglas. Douglas gives a speech titled “Is Greed good?” at LeBouf’s alma mater. He talks about the ills of the markets of today and the cancer known as leverage. He talks of the fancy names given to products which according to him are the same – the tools to fool everyone. Elsewhere he says “The Bulls make money, the Bears make money, the Pigs die”. One may think he is repenting his sins. However as Brolin later mentions in the film, is he ranting due to not enjoying the fruits of the con anymore? Anyhow, Gekko is approached by LeBouf regarding the crash and the reason for his mentor’s suicide. Gekko agrees to help only if LeBouf helps him in mending his relationship with his daughter. The trade is agreed upon.

Then one more crash. This one mirrors that which affected big fish like Goldman Sachs. Now Brolin goes to the Feds with a begging bowl. This time he is hopeful of getting a good deal because they are big. If they go down, the economy goes down. Very apt.

Somehow in the middle of documenting the 2008 crash, the revenge drama is sidelined. It picks up steam only in the last 30 minutes and gets resolved very abruptly and conveniently. Here the power of the blog is shown albeit very sketchily. It seems that Stone had a good story ready when somehow somewhere someone had an idea of mixing it with the entire 2008 story. The result is a strange screenplay which does not know what it is – a revenge drama or a docu drama.

However this does not mean that the film is not entertaining and informative. It des document the 2008 crash adeptly and should act as a good reference point, a good case study for business school if they want to revisit the Lehman – Sachs story. There are a lot of cameos in the film. Charlie Sheen replays his character in a memorable scene with Douglas. There is Warren Buffet spouting his gyaan. I would say that Douglas’s ideas and thoughts were inspired by him. Susan Sarandon plays LeBouf’s mother, a real estate agent (stock broker, blogger, real estate agent – LeBouf’s family covers all the players involved in the 2008 crash. A tad unrealistic.) who is clearly sold to the great real estate dream and does what Gekko warns us against – leverages hopelessly. Her last line is so typical of the American who has taken the dream for granted. LeBouf as the protagonist is adequate. However I still do not get why he is pronounced the chosen one by eminent filmmakers like Spielberg and Oliver Stone.

However as in the original, it is the Gekko who is the man to watch out for. Douglas slips into the boots of the character quite effortlessly after a gap of 20 years. He plays the role of an old, wounded tiger who is out to reclaim his kingdom with ease. He is the one who makes this sequel work. Hope we get another Wall Street soon. And not have to wait 20 years for it.

New post for Bored

A senti post on today’s sad happenings in the cricket world for Bored

The Pune Phataka

The last time I visited Pune was a decadeand half ago.
Around that time, Hum Aapke Hain Kaun was still running in Liberty.
Around that time, Sunny Deol had natural hair and was winning National Awards.
Around that time, Azhar was captain of the Indian team and Vinod Kambli was the next big thing.
Around that time, baggy pants were considered the in thing.
Around that time, Star Sports was called Prime Sports, Star Plus was all English and Baba Sehgal ruled MTV and Channel V.
Around that time, Narasimha Rao was running the country and Rahul baba was probably running around trees with his Colombian girlfriend.
What I am saying is that 15 odd years is enough for a lot of change to happen. Logically, I should have expected the cultural capital of Maharashtra to change too. However this is Pune, the pride of Maharashtrians, the centre of the grreat Maratha rule and the home of the famous Puneri Paatyas. For a city with a rich history of over 4 centuries, a city proud of its 4 centruies plus history, 15 years is peanuts. So not much change was expected.

Could not be more wrong.

The Pune of the early 90s was a sedate city with not many avenues of entertainment. It was a senior citizen city in that quite a few of retires, well, retired to this city. Every afternoon, the city came to a standstill since it was time for the afternoon siesta. And the people could be rude. Which is symbolized by the writing on the famous paatyas. Google Puneri Paatyas, get a person fluent in Marathi translate it for you (if you are not Marathi versed) and then lie back and marvel at the sharp wit and “do not give a shit” attitude of the Puneri shopkeeper.

The Pune of 2010 is vastly differant. Due to the IT explosion, a lot of business has come here. This has led to the city getting a sort of facelift. The place has become a virtual phataka. I counted around 9 eateries of different genres in and around my hotel. The mall next to the hotel has a food court and a swanky Big cinema multiplex. The crowd is young. The air was full of energy.

However do not forget the centuries old history. Some things still are the same. People still seem to get out to have breakfast at 8 in the morning. The pace is not breakneck like Mumbai. The quality of life is not compromised by the increase in professionalism. Senior citizens are still around and seem to have fun. I saw some of them playing chess in a CCD. Perfect mix of the old and the new. And the paatyas still remain glorious though few. And good old Chitale Bandhu still shuts down during siesta time.

Pune seems to have assimilated the winds of change rather than getting bogged down by it. I wish that Mumbai coud learn a little from its neighbour. Pune does not seem to be a bad place to live in.

Hiatus

Blog on temporary sabbatical due to too much work. And lack of net access.
Will be back this week. With stories on my first ever overseas visit. Dubai is a fascinating place and merits a long post.
Till then, my Twitter page is there for your entertainment.

The filmy series – 1 Tridev

I love masala films. People may call them bloated or trash or a melodramatic collage of disjointed scenes full of song and dance setpieces. However I have grown up on them and am fond of them however contrived and illogical they may turn up to be.
When I was around seven years old, there were no film channels. Doordarshan had a monopoly over the airwaves. Our evenings were spent watching “Aamchi Maati Aamchi Maansa” and when we were lucky, “Giant Robot”. There were no multiplexes. Theatres were supposed to be occupied by the rowdies and we were forbidden from going there (My first film on theatre was Sholay in a matinee show…post on that later). You can say that watching films during my early years was tough.
In 1989, my father bought home a VCR (no CD players then). This machine bought the movies to our homes. Of course Doordarshan used to show films every Saturday and Sunday. However they were mostly old films of the 60s and 70s. Through the VCR, we could see movies that had just released (then there was no funda of films being released on CD/video cassette after the theatre run had ended.). The first movie we saw on the VCR is the one which I have chosen to start this small series on my favourite masala Hindi flicks – Tridev.

Paap se dharti hili...

The story of the film is the basic heroes fighting against the evil smuggler flick with some twists. The film opens with a dramatic voice over by Naseeruddin Shah. “Naseer who” was my question to the parents. “Arre he is a famous art film actor”, was their response. I was to know later that Mr. Shah is one of the greatest actors with some of the finest films in his repertoire. But for a seven year old, he was just the good looking, well built dude with an awesome moustache. Once the credits roll we are introduced to the main villain (the late great Amrish Puri at his menancing best) conveniently sharing with his henchmen (and us) the mission statement and key objectives of Bhujang and Co. The best masala films are those which are easy to understand. We are supposed to leave our brains at homes, you see (or if you are watching on VCR, shut them off) and just enjoy.

Then we have the entry of the “1st Dev”, Sunny Deol. This was Sunny in his pre “dhaai kilo ka haath” phase when he was known as just a good looking action star and not the “One Man Army with the glass shattering voice pitch” that he is considered now. Hence, here we mercifully have Deol with the decibel level down. Deol throws his punch in the first scene itself showing us all that he is an incorruptible police officer. Cue celebrations over his bravery where we are introduced to the Police Commissioner, Deol’s judge father (who you know is going to get conked off), other sundry family characters and the love interest (Madhuri Dixit before her “Numero Uno” phase). We then have the entry of the 2nd Dev – Jackie Shroff (when he was handsome and bereft of a double chin). Here the film slightly deviates from the pattern giving Shroff an anti hero persona making his character very interesting (of course, the character straightens out in the second half. It is a masala film!!). Shroff is shown as the black sheep with his father, the Commissioner (Anupam Kher) disapproving of him. Introductions of the main characters (bar the 3rd Dev) over, the film goes into auto mode with the hero fighting against the smugglers catching one of them (Dalip Tahil as the phirangi) and taking him into court. However, the smuggler has an ace up his sleeve. He frames the poor chap and makes it seem like he is the rotten one!! To top it off, he makes his father pass the judgement. To top that top off, he gets the dad killed with us having to endure the scene of Sunny paji crying holding dear daddy’s feet as he “hangs” in there (atrocious pun. Sorry).
Poor Sunny paji is transferred to a small village. Cue entry of the 3rd Dev (Naseeruddin Shah). He is the “gaon ka chaila” who woos an actress shooting in their village (Sonam. How many remember her?) and gets a bit part in the film wherein he sings the legendary song “Oye Oye”. I remember the craze that song created. Pity the song was a rip off of a Gloria Estefan song. However, there was no cable TV and the chori was no “pakdofied”.

Rhythm Is Gonna Get .... sorry, Oye Oye!!

Anyways, Dev No. 1 and 3 clash over a supposed crime. Sunny Paji gets to know of Oye boy’s innocence. Oye man’s father was a freedom fighter turned school master (ahh, that old masala film symbol of morals) who was killed by a dacoit who turns out to be our smuggler (Inexplicable coincidence No.1!!). The two become chums. However, how could a masala film go on without causing more misery for our heroes. Sunny paji is woken up mid sleep by the goons of Bhujang led by, shock, gasp, Dev No. 2!! They proceed to tie him up and burn his house (why cannot they just shoot him up and then burn the house?). Dev No. 2 throws a knife at Dev No. 1 giving him a way to escape (and us the hint that he ain’t bad after all). By the way Dev No. 2 became part of Bhujang’s gang after saving his brother. There he is united with his love interest (Mrs. Azharuddin now, Sangeeta Bijlani then) who has her own agenda. Anyways, Oye boy thinking his friend being dead goes to Mumbai to take revenge (without knowing who killed his chum. Our heroes do not plan ahead). However Sunny paji cannot be killed (this was true even then) He also promises himself (and us) to wreak vengeance. Interval!! Till now, your brain is spinning with so much happening that you just cannot think. Hence the phrase “Leave your brains out”.
In Mumbai, Oye boy runs into who else, but the actress (In a city of millions, for such an improbable thing to happen, you gotta be in Bollywood universe). He is appointed as her bodyguard by her politician father (another masala film symbol – but of corruption) who is a close firend of, shock, gasp, Bhujang (Inexplicable coincidence no. 2). Sunny paji meanwhile becomes a cabbie (how he arranged for a cab and a taxi driver permit when he is supposedly dead is something which should not be asked). Sunny paji does wreck vengeance and leads to the villains getting miserable this time. An action masala film is always about misery. In the first half the good guys are miserable. In the second half, the baddies get miserable. He meets Jackie in one of his misery inducing mission while a Ms. Azharuddin item song is going on (kids, before Shilpa Shetty came on to loot UP and Bihar in Shool, it was the duty of the heroines to shake their booty thereby creating some major continuity issues. In the pre climax song, we have Madhuri madam dancing in skimpy attire while she is clad in Punjabi dresses all this while in the movie. Very inconsistent. Par kya kare, janta ki demand hai).

3 Deviyans - In item song garb.

Jackie explains to Sunny (and us) that he is eating Bhujang and Co. from the inside and they both join hands. The baddies are almost bankrupted by these two and have to resort to looting a bank. There they are engaged by the twosome in a shootout. Present in the bank is Oye boy and his actress. Nasserji had overheard the robbery scheme and is out to show the actress the “kaali kartoot” of her would be husband (well, she is engaged to one of Bhujang’s son against her wishes.). Why Naseerji would want to put her life at risk just to prove a point is not to be asked. In the shootout, Bhujang’s bachcha is killed and a disconsolate Bhujang sets up a meeting with Sunnyji. There all the secrets are revealed to everyone but us (since we already know them). The 3 Devs finally meet up together. Bhujang though thinks up a dastardly scheme wherein he gets the Devs arrested (through the politician) and kidnaps the Commissioner (remember him?) and his troop. The scene is set for the Dev – cop transfer i.e. the climax. The aforementioned item song plays out and meanwhile the Devs escape. It is a good strategy of the director to have the story progress even while the song goes on. That way, no time for the audience to even contemplate thinking.
Cue the climax. Fighting starts. Sunny paji on a horse. Jackie on a bike. Naseer with a dastardly sword. From where they collected these items is a mystery. Three against the entire Bhujang and Co. Still you have the good boys winning. because the villains suffer from the climax syndrome. Their aim goes bonkers with the heroes dodging even the close range shots. They forget to attack the good guys together. They basically through their actions yell “aa Bail mujhe maar!!”. Which the goodies proceed to do. In the end we have Bhujang being punched by our 3 Gods while the Naseer voiceover bellows. The baddie is put out of is misery. The end.

While full of loopholes, coincidences and inconsistencies, Tridev is a real fun watch. The pace is fast and the film has a sleek look. It was supposed to be one of the slickest films produced till then. The acting by the cast was serviceable. The three main leads were good in that they actually made you care for them. Naseeruddin Shah in his first corny role (he had played the lead in an earlier masala film,Jalwa but that was more a Hollywood style film with him having to show some real acting chops) For a seven year old kid like me who was not yet exposed to the marvel that was the Terminator films, Tridev remained the benchmark against which all the other action films were judged. Well, until I saw the film I would talk about in the next installment of this, the filmy series.

The inscrutable bunch

- A player who has made retiring and unretiring a hobby of sorts.
- A player accused of tampering the pitch / ball / both who is appointed captain.

Read the rest here.

World Cup Hangover – And a poem on the eight limbed dude.

The World is over and I am missing it already. I am sure many who followed the World Cup must be doing the same. For those still unsure about it, here are some pointers to determine that you are missing the World Cup:
1) At the stroke of midnight, you reflexively change the channel to ESPN (if in India). I did it yesterday and got momentarily confused by the absence of foot kicking ball or melodramatic reactions to defensive tackles.
2) You realize that you cannot sleep till 2.30 AM in the night. You try and try hard but your brain responds to your pleas for mercy with “we got some footie to watch”.
3) You miss the sound of bees going on all out war. After bearing the sound of vuvuzelas for a month, you realize that you will be missing it (It has been banned in the 2014 World Cup by the way.)
4) You have to search for a new topic to discuss with your friends and colleagues. With friends, it is easier. With colleagues, it is not especially when you have just joined the company.
5) When you see a rickshaw driver try to overtake your vehicle a little dangerously, you almost yell, “Offside!!”
6) You compare your naughty and unpredictable son/dau ghter/nephew/niece to the Jabulani.
7) You still connect Shakira to Waka Waka rather than “hips”
8) You get even more pissed while having to endure ads between overs in a cricket match.
9) You still root for Paraguay to win. (and have nightmares about what would happen if Argentina had won)

Yesterday night was especially difficult for me. To spend the time, I composed (rather decomposed) a poem on the world’s most talked about aquatic animal:

You will find him in a small tank in Germany
He lives his life in perfect harmony

The name of the dude is Paul
These days everyone knows him, those who dig football.

They make him choose between sides two,
They see who he goes to, ignores he who

Ignored by him were those who eventually lost,
Everyone prayed that Paul chooses their team, at any cost

Not many fortune tellers have such a streak
They all scratch their heads, and think of him as a freak.

Many want to kill him, many think ill of him, in vain,
He will always have his well wishers in good ol’ Spain

In all this melee, in all this hype,
Paul must be thinking what is the big fuss,
They gave me two bowls of food, and I just choose one,
I ain’t some glutton; I am just a normal octopus.