Dreams Within Dreams- The Review

Last night I was wondering about the fact that arts and media as we know them don’t have a legend from our generation. For example, the generation before us had Guns n Roses, before them there were the Iron Madien and Led Zep, then before them was King Presley. If we come onto movies before us people had Kubrick, before him was Hitchcock and before him was Kurosawa.

Lo and behold was I wrong bigtime! Legends are present. Only if you look for them in the right places.

It was asif an answer from the Gods themselves. There are times when things hit you with such profoundness that you start believing in the supernatural. Today (earlier tonight) I mean is one such day when inspite the fact that my clock shows 0456 hours I type away as vibrant as Chutiya (Of Gunda fame and not the derogatory term you will think of), after taking those manpills of his.

“Dreams within Dreams” is a rebellion. Okay it’s a movie made by some college kids but I do have to sound big don’t I? It’s a rebellion against all sorts of cinema that has left entertainment to nothing but a mode of showing skin and making people dream (Pun intended.). So when you see the protagonist walking in and the camera (the same as used during benchmark ventures like "Loha" and "Raam Gopal Verma ki G***d mein Aag") focussing on his shoes, you say to yourself “Hang on! This seems cliché but it certainly is making my head squirm”.

IIT Roorkee and its environs weren’t made a better use of anytime else. And I mean that including the time when the great Upper Ganga Canal was built using nothing but engineers from our institute. So whereas you have the lush gardens of main building providing a picturesque setting for “true love”, there are the dusty parks in front of Govind Bhawan providing some much needed privacy for our hero and heroine to coodle around in.

A couple of points worth mentioning:

1) “true love” above refers to a gesture wherein a female bends down and puts her arms forward in what seemingly less mature people might describe as an impressive impression of a chimpanzee.

2) The costume designers deserve a big hand (literally!) as the costumes leave an indelible mark with you exclaiming “Hey! What’s the use of swanky new clothes in those SRK movies when these work fine?”

So much so for the superficial aspects, lets do an in depth analysis of this masterpiece whose, last I heard, copy had been requested by the SPCA (Society for the Protection of Cruelty to Actors).

The director has outdone Kanti Shah. It wouldn’t be unjust to say that had Kubrick been alive, he would have opened his Eyes Wide Shut and eaten the brains off (again literally!) of this debutant. With what finesse has been the whole venture directed, you would be shocked to know that this movie in fact DID NOT win the Oscar for the Best film of the year. That distinction went to The Departed. I mean come on, Scorsese with another of his movie having more four letter words than a Joe F Keinar rant. Leonardo Di Caprio! That kid needs a 1912 manufactured steamer to make love. Our institute surely is better than that!

People will be going for my skin I am sure after they read this. You know Spielberg, Lucas, the jealous types who just cant stand the fact that some others can have more artistic talent than them!

So people, heed what I have written and watch this saga of romance, passion and a teacher who syncs writing on an empty blackboard. You would then have a story to tell to your grandkids.

The Beijing Diaries!

Lots of things have happened over the past month. The trip to Allahabad comes to mind, or to be precise, the return trip where yours truly and his companions (10 in all) were forced to spend 9 hours on two top tier berths. The Fat Rocker displayed his Dostana feelings and was immediately shunned.

Okay I mustn't digress. 

I have received a lot of flak for not writing extensively on my stay in the Capital of Dragonland. The primary reason that this post has come late is because I had stuff to do (No, really!) and this is one mammoth post to follow. So yes, the funny, the not-so-funny et al…

****Italics represent comments passed in Hindi so that the unsuspecting fellow Chinese didn’t understand them:

1) We met an amiable fellow while buying some mineral water. One talk led to another and the next thing you know he was walking with us. Cynics pointed out he could be one of those thugs that the travel guidebooks warn tourists against. The group decided to dodge him by going the other way rather than going straight to the hostel. Mr. Dumbass, true to his name and in his self righteous element meanwhile was walking with the chap.

Chorus: “Dumbass! We have to go this way!”

Dumbass: “No we don’t!”

Me: “Dumbass! We are trying to bluff our way out of this character….so just shut up and follow!”

Dumbass: “ACTUALLY…I know what you guys are confused between; those two roads look exactly the same. Trust me we have to go this way (Pointing to the hostel)!”

Me: “Okay that’s it! You actually don’t have any brains do you. Just follow us or trust me you’ll regret the day you were born!”

Chorus: “Dumbass! Dumbass!”

Senses restored, Dumbass finally decided to tag along.

2)Bejing has an awesome nightlife, for the locals as well as tourists there are all sorts of clubs and bars for gamut of tastes. The nightclub street in question was called Hi Hao. So a taxi was hailed. Unfortunately, language isn’t that awesome and trying to communicate with a local can be as tough as drilling some sense into a Chelsea fan.

Me: Hi hao!

Driver: Blank look

ME: Hi hao!

Driver: “rfgjgojgfjdfkldfdlfjdfljdlfjdfljf(probably his equivalent of: You guys are the biggest jerks ever! GET OUT!)”

Me: Hi Hao (Trying to Chinesize my accent)

Driver: (Comprehension Dawns!) Shows a Thumbs up….Smiles weirdly!

Some Soul:“Is everyone here this big a git or are WE complete losers?”

20 minues later

Driver: “sdkgdfhdskfhsfkgkdgf (probably asking us to get down)”

We pay the driver, thank god the bill was in English (YES! Taxis there have a billing system!!)

Pretty girl comes up: “You want a lady, sir?”

 30 seconds of being dumbfounded

Chorus: “Oh damn! Shithead dropped us at the wrong place!”

Shouting in the distance.  Its our friends pointing to come their way. As you can see, we were dropped at a very wrong place but not by much. The club street wasn’t far. Still could’ve been much worse! (Or better?)

3)Chinese markets are extremely cheap. Especially the Palika Bazaar types, where the fakes are really good and are a real bargain. The catch is the starting price what the shopkeepers (all women, which is a very good marketing strategy) quote is sky high, so it can be a time consuming process reaching an agreement over payments. The one thing that probably everyone had to shop for handbags and ladies’ purses for all the mothers, sisters, friends, relatives et al. The solitary girl who happened to be with us was summoned to decide “What looked good?”, “What is in?”. After sometime she vehemently Up yours’ed us (Gayatri! This will come back to haunt you!)  and went on her own shopping when the questioning had gone a little overboard. Left in the shop were 5 boys, shopping for purses for the first time ever. I mean I have shopped before but who in the name of Dr. Jesus H. Coxx remembers their prices?

Anywhoo…, 10 purses were shortlisted. Now comes the fun part. The shopkeeper quoted a price so exorbidant even Bill Gates would’ve done a double take on! (It’s the drill you know…that Pallika Bazar routine.) Our first quote was a measly 10 yuan (That’s 70 Rupees) for each purse. Hmmm….in hindsight it was a mistake wasn’t it? I mean, a leather purse the size of a school bag for 70 bucks!

Needless to say the shopkeeper was pissed. She, with utmost seriousness didn’t say anything just politely said “Get out!” (This was after approximately 30 minutes of scrutininising probably each and every bag in there!). We took the cue and left. As we were leaving she actually got a little angry and whacked me on the shoulder with a picking stick!

Although I was too shell shocked to go in there again, some fellow comrades persisted and did eventually buy all those bags. All in all, the trip was as fruitful (Puma shoes Rs. 350/- anyone!) and I also came to know even shopping can be dangerous to health.

P.S. More encounters of the strange kind to follow.

P.P.S. Tosic, Fabio, Rafael, Possebon....another Golden Generation people?

 

At Someone Else's Funeral

Voyeur (noun): a person who gets sexual pleasure from secretly watching other people in sexual situations, or (more generally) a person who watches other people's private lives 

There is a class of criminals, say noted police authorities all over the world, which are on the rise and sort of define the latest trend in criminology. These are the “voyeurs”. Now, of course their definition applies to those heinous activities which do not fall under the domain of what might be called “normal” (Maddu pronunciation: “Naaaaaarmal”).

But as yours truly really discovered today what he had been suspecting for long  was how there is  a voyeur in each one of us. Stay with me here because the circumstances will not remain this serious for long.

Just remember the last time you took sadistic pleasure in a spicy gossip. Everyone has been there done that. I always think this particular trait unlike many others but also like some others, is immune to your background or your being. Its universal.

For reasons of privacy (read:mobbed), the name of the victim hasn’t been disclosed.

One day previously:

Professor: (Gibberish)

The Bulk: Oye Victim! Tell them about your rendezvous today!

Myself: Was that about what I think its about?

Victim: Yes, but she was just here enroute Dehradun, I met her for just some time.

No prizes for guessing what this blog will be all about.

Myself: C’mmon man! You know the drill!

*Victim doesn’t disclose anything of vital(?) interest. 

2 hours previously (Events occur in real time):

Professor: (Gibberish)

The Bulk: Why isn’t the victim here?

Myself: Werent you supposed to bring him along?

The Bulk: I know but…wait I’ll call him! (Calls him)….ahaan! (Raised eyebrows, mild shock, slight understanding, mocking smile with a hint of sadism) Okay! He says he is someplace else.

Myself (putting two and two together): Can it be? That committed bastard! 

The Bulk and myself then engaged in a coversation about sadism, curiosity, girls. I don’t know how books came into picture but yes they were mentioned. Meanwhile, the machine design tutorial was rotting on its own. It could wait. There were more pressing (pun intended) matters at hand. 

The Bulk: That’s it! I cant wait! (Sorry Bulk, its my blog!)….(calls) Oye ass! Where are you?….(diabolical expression) …He says he’s at SP (it’s the R-land version of Saagar Ratna). Why the hell would he miss a class for SP? 

Myself: If it is what I think it is then we should so go there.

The Bulk: Totally.

Myself: Awesome. (Music in my head: “Jailhouse Rock” by Presley) 

So the duo sets out and on the way are encountered other morons.

Chorus: Why so happy? 

buzz……buzz…..buz……buzzzzzzzz…… as all are updated 

Chorus: Ohooooooooo……. 

We march towards our destination, all perverted up. The victim comes from the opposite direction all smiles and with a dreamy expression accompanied by none other than the Pig himself. 

Chorus: Shocking expression! (Music in my head: “Keep the faith” by Bon Jovi) 

The Pig: You think we are dumb? We boarded them off as soon as you called. 

Pervert # 1: They were MORE than one? 

The Pig: Yes. (Music in my head: “The day that never comes” by Metallica) 

14:59:57…..14:59:58…..14:59:59….15:00:00 

P.S.: “You’re gonna have to trust me”-Jack Bauer to random people he meets on streets! 

So, what is shaking?

Well, probably by now you have been wished “Happy New Year” umpteen times, so I’ll skip over the formalities (or really?). Anyways, I find out that December is jinxed for my blog as both in Dec-07,08 have I not been able to post anything on this much revered portal. That doesn’t necessarily translate to that things are mundane. The truth you’ll find out is far from it.

So yes, December. It did start off on a pretty bad note with having to tackle two end sem exams (You know, the usual!) and then it went straight into 5^th gear with preparations starting off for a trip to Dragonland. Time whizzed past by before it was 16^th December (Happy Birthday Papa!) and we were on our way. Apart from Heineken and an extremely good rock Radio Channel, there isn’t much to say about the flight. (You just know the air hostesses aren’t upto the mark when I don’t mention them right?)

And so we landed and hereon start the anecdotes. When we were told Beijing would be cold, we thought “Yeah right, colder than Roorkee? Fat chance!”. We were wrong big time. The whole time we were there, the temperature hardly reached the comfortable side of zero. Case in point being when some hot chocolate which skims off the straw, freezes before it reaches your jacket and you are able to wipe it off like biscuit wafers.

Sightseeing went as planned with visits to The Great Wall, The Temple of Heaven and Tianmen Square providing tourist interests. Shopping took a new meaning with bargaining reaching new heights. And you definitely know it’s a unique incidence when you are actually smacked with a stick by a shopkeeper.

The official part of the seminar was freshening to say the least with, yours truly leading his multinational group to a victory by turning them into the Justice League ( a typical BBT moment if you will!). Also probably the first and last time my dancing was appreciated. Probably more so because people don’t know how Indian dance is done, but still it counts.

Well yes, the reference is probably as Lefty put it once “Some trips are so sacred you cant put them in words!” so here I’ll cut it short leaving out some very humorous experiences at nightclubs, in conferences, in cabs, in the subway!

The return dose of desi included a hardcore hibernating session of 7 days with the sole outing out in the open being Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi. Reality kicked back in earlier today when I had to painstakingly fill in 10 SAME forms during registration. Sheldon Cooper says: "Life, thou art a heartless bitch!"

Anyways, some great friends made, some exciting moments, some embarrassing and with a new found immunity to cold, I mark my return to the blogging world!

P.S. Just so that Man Utd get their share of press coverage, WE ARE THE WORLD CHAMPIONS NOW!

P.P.S. Peace out!