Posted in October 2011

Who listens to Zarathustra anyways?

Diwali and the days following it saw Ra.One getting a sumptuous thulp across various internet forums. Long-time denizens of Internet need hardly be reminded that this landscape is built on the ‘shoot-first-question-later’ philosophy. Therefore even without watching the movie, I can understand that a large part of this flak might *just* be hyperbole and the movie might *just* be passable.

Wait. this is not what you think it is. This post is not about condemning the unwarranted extreme positions ‘internet’ critics assume. Nor is this a ‘rational’ counter-argument mounted to defend the common man’s right to willingly fling his disbelief into the Koovam river.

The other day I was reading this review of the film by B.Rangan and his initial point on Rajnikanth and the redundancy of Endhiran intrigued me. Why only limit this to Rajni?  Why not expand it to a broader spectrum? Will the concept of a ‘Superhero’ ever work in the milieu of what we call ‘mainstream’ Indian cinema?  Atleast in the near future, can we bring ourselves to appreciate the ‘Western’ interpretation of Superhero and the rituals it associates itself with?

I doubt it.

For our films still, unwittingly or otherwise, borrow heavily from Rama’s mythology. With Ramayana, the protagonist isn’t some normal 9-5 guy with an abnormal ‘do gooder’ itch, he embodies all that is good in men. He is Rama and it is an existential demand that he pwn badass villainy in the neighborhood while establishing/sustaining the righteous code for his successors to follow. He doesn’t need extraordinary circumstances to fulfill his destiny; he *is* the extraordinary circumstance pitted against the evil mongers (who as we know, frankly, haven’t the slightest chance in hell against him).

Extending the analogy, our traditional on-screen heroes have ‘bleached’ that gray area by their unblemished virtue of their being. To them, “upholding what is right” is not a response to an external stimulus but something that is second-nature/ingrained. In other words, where the west defines its Superheroes by “what they do”, here we see the definition shifting to “who they are”.

Secondly the logic that applies to Batman is denied to Bruce, even though they are the different manifestations of a same entity. This division of logic/ the “idam poruL Eval“ness doesn’t dictate a Rajini movie like say Baasha. Alter-egos aren’t a necessity here, a frill if the occasion demands. Third, a typical superhero  is an asocial being. He/She can only exist as an entity outside the society. What this also means is that if one takes him/her out of the current context and the character still remains homogeneous. But I highly doubt that our heroes can exist in any universe other than the ones they’ve created for themselves.

One could argue that given time and/or the right treatment we can still sell the concept of a asocial “Costumed Crusader” to our public and I’d agree. The first step would be to let the franchise decide the star and not the other way around. I mean what is the need now for someone like Salman, Shah Rukh or Rajni to hide behind a mask to pulp posteriors, when he’s been doing the same, just fine all these years without one.  The second would probably be to eliminate this ‘target audiences are kids especially’ bollock.  Once one assumes that working definition, one is only going to oversimplify the context and make it look like a joke. Why should we be forced to accept that the whole concept is juvenile and not worth the effort to invest our emotions? Just because it doesn’t happen “IRL”? Hello.

Another thing that puzzles me is this act of putting the cart before the horse. A superhero franchise, the point at which it becomes a movie, already has a sizable fan base it had collected from its run as a comic or a book. Therefore as a movie it doesn’t need to invest a lot of time explaining stuff to its audience. But here, its the movie that spawns the franchise and it straight away tries shoving info deep down the audience’s throat without giving the chance to even acclimatize themselves to the myth. Little wonder then that it opens itself to such scorn and ridicule.

Will the scene change? I don’t know. Probably it will, probably it won’t matter. But if anything, I hope that the change comes from outside the medium. Hopefully, our popculture evolves into a more potent and pertinent (lest someone should rue the loss of nativity) organism. Hopefully, our filmmakers find enough incentives to break the mold and cast aside dated-prototypes. Hopefully, the pigs will come home flying.Till then let’s keep the Lulz, shall we?

Sandekh Brandy

Adiye! The onions seem fried. Ippo ennatha seiyya ?“  I yell on top of my voice.

I’m pretty sure she didn’t hear a thing.

Goddamn TV serials! If it were up to me I’d shotgun every “fresh-out-of-beauty-parlor-face-all-day” family member of every Gharaana and end their ridiculous conflicts right in the pilot. But such prompt closures are usual frowned upon by the general populace. For instance, I was fed just saltless paavakKa poriyal and burnt VaazhakKa curry when I slipped this view in a house-party, as an plausible impersonal opinion on how things would pan out ‘if prime-time tv soaps were left to the husbands’.  For 3 days.  I have since tempered my inner Bhagat Singh.

Haaan?.. Pyaaz fry kiya kya?” she yells back.

Facepalm!

 A week before:

Bujju, door lock kar dena. Will be late from office today“  she’s a miracle in the mornings; gets a bazillion housework stuff done by the time I haul my ass from the bed to the nearest toilet in stop-motion.

Hmmm….ya ok. hey pass the newspaper before you go

No answer. A loud thud and 2 minutes later,  I get an SMS from her “kpt milk n stuv… frgt to turn of…. doit’ .  Brush and foam in mouth, cellphone in one hand and the end of towel firmly clasped in another, I rush to the kitchen, trip over the dustbin, fall down and somehow manage break my toothbrush into two neat pieces.  Gah!

Working from home can get soul-sappingly boring, esp if you don’t have an office to go to. I have now spent months wrestling with an extremely tricky plot point with the resolution nowhere in sight. Not that I am losing sleep over it but its annoying to start every day, working back and forth on those same notes .

I head out to the balcony for a smoke. I am worried about hundred things in general and none in particular. What have we done with our value system (from an ethical point of view)? Why are we, as a society, doling out apathy as a holistic cure to all our social maladies? Why does our media favor  reckless opportunism over integrity? Who are these pseudo-intellectuals and why do they absofuckolutely hate my books ? How on earth did that asshole with zero singing talent win the Ultimate Crooner contest?

Same old, same old. Sigh! In other words, the breakfast was real bad; asshole Iyermess fellow had me eating the saltiest pongal ever made. When I did complain about it, he dumped chilly sauce on it as compensation. Like truck loads of it.

Namma otel silly chaas saaptu paarumOi. Divyama irukumNe

I mean, who does such things.

Keeping things simple is my motto for the day. Nice and easy little paragraphs, simple observations, character chit-chat, pump in 1500 words and call it a day.  Here an inch, there a foot and I’ll ride through this mess.

Yes Yes!

That’s it.

Nice and easy little paragraphs.

Fifteen minutes later, I find myself browsing through social-networking sites.  If not for my publisher who thought it wouldn’t hurt for me to have an online presence, I wouldn’t have even bothered registering here.  I don’t update much…except for a few thoughts that come to my mind (typically during late afternoons when sleep threatens to spoil my night-routine and I have to really really do something different to keep myself awake).  Anyways,  it seems that I’ve missed the bus by 10 years. Things here don’t make much sense to me.

Around 2.30, I get a call from her mobile.  This better not be the ‘go-buy-and-boil-milk-before-I-get-home’ routine

Hello

Hello saar“  Male voice. Eh?

Who?

Aashiq saar

Which Aashiq?

Autodriver Aashiq saar.  Saar, yoor misses suddenly crashing in my auto saar. Activa fell saar. she adilegoing under. Leg breaking and I taking to gendrlasphithrii saar, I calling there only

WTF!

Allo…Yaaru pa nee? Tamizh le pesi thole

The last time I ever went to the General Hospital was during the 90s. Grandmother’s mother (0r father? or was it Grandpa’s mother? or was it Thathaa himself?  Anyways, who remembers these things!) was terribly ill and they had her in the ICU.  Hospitals still do scare me. My constitution is not built to handle these places, the smell of tincture induce nausea and pointy needles, an uncontrollable shiver. More than anything, the proximity to blood and death and the ridiculous ease with which they deal with them here is unnerving.  It’s a wonder people come here, of all the places, to get back to good health and what more… most of them actually do.

Accident and Trauma Care Services. The nurse points me to the doctor who tells me that it wasn’t a major injury. A small Patella fracture surgery here,  a lakh there. Some rest, physiotherapy and wooosh! Nothing that our insurances can’t handle.

We go into the theatre in an hour. Simple procedure. I’ll see to it that she’s discharged  end of this week. Palani outside will help you with the forms and  other formalities

There was no Palani outside.

I enquire about the autofellow.He’s nowhere to be seen.He’s left all her belongings with the hospital. Everything seem as it is (as far as I can tell, I never can).Must say, Aashiq is decent. An eventful day. Most of it spent running hither and thither, buying this, signing that, buying this again, signing that again, consoling the oh-my-gods, explaining the what-the-fuck-happeneds, ignoring the oru-nade-Kalikaambazhl-Koil-poituvaadas and accepting the  get-well-soons. She’s not woken up yet.

I convince the in-laws to not stay over. I can manage, I say. Ditto to my parents. Just that mom never ever listens to me.

Ippo sollu da. Enna thaan nadandhudhu?”  Mom’s idea of effective inquiry: Repeat the question until you hear what you want to hear.

 ”MaaaWe can discuss later

I must’ve slept for the next thing I know it was early morning. The night shift personnel were leaving and I am told that she’s still sleeping.  I slip out for a nice smoke and a quick tea.  Something about December makes me fall in love with this city. So many things have changed but yet this place remains the same.

Sigh.

You can see her now

Thanks for everything, ma’am…..Means a lot

Don’t be silly. It’s only her job”  this was mom.

Today:

Fucking Youtube cookery videos!  They teach you everything except how to cook. More importantly, they don’t tell you what to do when smoke hits the roof.

Kar kya rahe ho tum vahan?”  a geniune alarm in her voice.  Great success! Not the cooking… managed to divert her attention from the TV.

Aaan… Saambrani daal raha hoon

What?? Are you smoking in there? Aa rahi hoon mein”  Heh. Fat chance of that happening

My Dear SandhegapPraani, don’t bother.  Have some patience, yummy lunch is getting ready“.  Fat chance of that happening too. Must’ve taken mother’s help when she offered to stay with us. Tactical mistake.

Never have I struggled like this in my life. EVER.  Not even when I had to almost stab my heart to convince my high school biology teacher that the diagram was of a cockroach and not a flabby male genitalia.  Cooking is not for the pansies. Hundred things to do and each with a hundred other dependencies and  considerations. All this for a 15-min-simple-thing-one-cooks-every-other-Tuesday level dish.

An hour and a half later.

How is it?” I ask her.  Clever of me to have not tasted it at all. Never take risks when you’re married is how I roll.

Hmmmm”  she replies, lost in thought  ”Eatable

Aha…well of course. Love that Sardar chef guy on Youtube!   Must send him a money order or something.

What does that word mean?

What word?

Vahi. Sandhekh Brandy

Huh? Kounsa brandy?

Yeah, the same… what does it mean?

Are you alright?

Arre… From the kitchen you yelled then, no?  What’s that word?

This is one thing I really hate. Pulling random stuff from some…

Oh SandhegapPraani ya?

Yeah, the same.

Asadu, it means you are very pretty”  I do this all the time. She is probably the most misinformed Bharadhiyar poetry fan in the whole world.  I mean, why waste time looking up words, when your husband’s a writer, right? Right? Right? Wrong.

Awww. So sweet. Channel zara change karna

Kounsa dekhna hei?”  I snuggle in next to her.

Zee.”

Ahaan…what is this serial?

Interesting one. Its about this big family and the third son’s wife is actually a.. “

Ah, TV is not so bad after all.

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