Metro

Apparently a movie on infidelity in a busy metro goes well with lamb curry and rice over dinner. Well, that is the gist of the collection of electrical impulses sent to my brain looking at the array of movies while waiting to pay for the freshly cut lamb.

Anyway, the movie depicted this high level of infidelity in this busy city. People searching lust and love amongst others and blaming it on the city. The moral was probably something like looking at what you have than what you don't. It made sense to me but I couldn't stop thinking about what I dont have. I dont have tender pieces of meat sitting among this curry and rice mix. I dont have a better movie to watch to wash this one off my memory. I dont have anything sweet to eat after this incomplete meal and no, I dont want that jello in the fridge. I also dont have to watch a Hollywood film anymore to see a real sex scene, sound effects and everything because Bollywood (Hindi Cinema Industry based in Bombay) movies, probably starting with Metro managed to do away with copulation euphemisms (more information on those euphemisms here: link)

The mating scenes were executed with the fine expertise of a soft-pornography director. The presence of a delicate cross-over of talent from the Bombay Porno Industry to the Bollywood Film Industry is noticeable. No more do the waves crashing onto the rocks depict the big-O. Most of the ideas conveyed were over-emphasized from my point of view but maybe not for the common man in India. The common man relies on Bollywood for information in ethics, trends and social issues. They are probably one step behind the south-indian film industry where the people make statues of actors and pray to them. We will catch up eventually, now that Himesh Reshammiya is making movies...there is a whole new generation of 'low' that we are yet to see.

The Cutest Bollywood Love Song

Laya is sick today. Sight hounds apparently have very sensitive stomachs. Having spent over $2000 on her diet related illnesses, I watch what she eats so very closely. She has been having diarrhea since last night. Other than cleaning up her bed in her kennel from the smelly liquidy poop, it is especially painful to see her struggle with the number 2.

Lakshya has always been a feel-good movie for me. Mentally stressed out this Tuesday, I decided to watch it for the upteenth time. I think 'Agar Main Kahoon' has got to be the cutest love song to come out of Bollywood yet. I am slightly biased though, Preety Zinta being on the top of my favourite actress list. Moreover, this is probably the only movie that does Hritik Roshan any justice. Speaking of Preeti Zinta, enjoy the song.

Lakshya-Agar Main Kahoon

Tumi Horny!

There have been a recent uproar of hindi movie talk in a few blogs I read here and here. Other than this song (Anusha Dandekar has gorgeous eyes!) I just wanted to watch a movie on Mumbai. Rahul Bose is a good actor, so I picked up the Mumbai Matinee DVD on my last trip to the indian store.

Loot_Gaye_Mumbai_Matinee

I think they could not have had a more funny scene of a Bengali cop lecturing Debashis Chatterjee about his quests of the forbidden fruit. "Tumi Horny" meaning "You are Horny" in bengali is probably the climax of the entire movie. The absolute peak. It cracks me up all the time. Moreover, Perizad Zorabian is always sweet.

PS:
In reference to Shashi's post: link, bengali men do appear goofy in Mumbai Matinee but it is not all true. At least they showed the actual depiction of a 'fireplace scene' euphemism or maybe it is the Waves in ocean 1 euphemism .

Bharat Bhushan

Having spent a lazy Sunday morning waking up at 7 am to take the pups out followed by a good breakfast of wheat toast bread, light swiss cheese and two eggs, poached, I decided to take a mid-morning nap. I did wake up at 7 am on a Sunday! Two hours of left-over sleep later, I showered and set out for some lunch and groceries. Lunch was at the $10 buffet in the Indian restaurant. I gobbled on the chicken lollypop, butter naan, rogan gosht and chicken tikka masala while a few noisy indian kids testified Sakshi's recent post. I obviously go there for the gulab jamun and mango moose. Did you know buffets were unlimited :)

I had to return four DVDs to the Indian store that were over due by a week. While I picked up some green chillies, khus syrup to battle the hot florida summer and maggi noodles, I decided to dabble in a few more Hindi movies. I am not a Bollywood movie buff, so I don't keep up with whats coming. Standing dumbfounded in front of the seven foot tall rack of hindi movies, I decided to pick the ones that at least sounded decent enough. Knowing my lack of knowledge of newly released movies, I try not to venture into the new-movie section. Thats usually my kid brother on the phone, "Dadabhai, its an excellent movie(talking about some Karan Johar type glamour-smothered movie), but not your type. Try that one."

Bheja Fry was still virgin in its unopened plastic wrap. The cover had Rajat Kapoor's tearing his hair off and Vinay Pathak with an evil grin on his face. I was sold. It turned out to be the best Sunday afternoon movie. Light, funny and no songs. I go gaga when songs are used in the movie as a background score to compliment the story and not otherwise. I jump with joy like a three year old with a pop-sickle. Vinay Pathak plays the role of Bharat Bhushan who is called every name starting from padma-bhushan to Pradushan in the movie. He plays the role of an Income Tax officer who thinks a Naushaad-level singer is trapped in his body and displays his vocal prowess at every opportunity he gets. He is also irreparably goofy and probably has an acute condition of ADD that is portrayed extremely well.

Ranvir Shorey does a commendable job too, just like he has been in all the movies I see. All said, the hard-core critics will find flaws but this is not a movie to be critiqued. It is something that you watch on a lazy Sunday afternoon, laugh while watching it, post your two cents on an obscure little blog, shove the DVD in the box and return it within two to three days.

Chicken Curry

I wait for the onions to turn brown so I can toss in the thickly marinated chicken in a rich yoghurt marinate into the wok. Some buggers are still pink, most are white or yellow steadily progressing towards the desired brown. My brother fiddles with the computer, working his way up the social cyber ladder while this post starts forming in my head.

kaabhi aalvida naa kehna is at intermission. I am tired of the glamour dresses, the expensive shots, the fancy hair dos, the light story line, pockets of heavy emotions and outsourced dialogues. Yes, I feel the dialogues are outsourced. Only a few hold some water, the rest being lighter than a goose’s feather. After a heavy dinner of chicken curry, rice and roti and a few more hours of the slow movie, I am told that this has been a path breaking film. "The lead actor and actresses have never been flawed characters before!" I say, some famous director finally decided to pick up a real script! A real script is about people and all people are flawed. While the movie ranted about a wrong marriage, actually two wrong marriages, I wondered how many people could actually identify with the script. Not the infidelity part, just the wrong marriage part. EVERYBODY! I have known a few people that are or were in a relationship with their best friends. Some flourished while others ended up with broken hearts. I, for one, sacrificed my beautiful friendship to the failure of love. Failure of Love! It is a nice phrase if you think about it. This phrase is optimistic about failure and the many love songs, poems, novels and short stories are its living testament. We write about things we do not have. That’s why we write about the rain and about God.

I am surprised at the multitude of love making scenes in hindi movies these days. Not shocked, just surprised. Being used to old fashioned clichéd love scenes; this blunt frankness is very new to me. The directors surely want to show more realistic situations but also want to show off the producer’s deep pockets. So, they end up with a chicken curry: yoghurt, masala, garlic paste, tomatoes and chicken pieces all blended into one big medley just hoping to capture your senses. Now, you have scenes of top notch bollywood actors and actresses getting intimate, sweaty bodies glistening in the fireplace heat coupled with scenes of overstated glamorous sudden dance scenes. Moreover, sixteen and seventeen year olds watch this movie and no one burns effigies of Shah Rukh and Rani on the streets. Maybe Richard Gere should have charged the Indian government to make an appearance for his Aids campaign and then charged the general public obscene ticket prices to see him give a few affectionate pecks on Shilpa Shetty’s cheeks. It worked for Shah Rukh and Karan Johar. Must work for Richard Gere! He is Hollywood after all!!!

Enough written. The chicken curry left over needs to see the refrigerator, Laya needs to take a walk and I need to get my comforter from my car. Good Night people.

Instant Upma Nights...Muhaji Lovitz

Alright, the instant upma from MTR is not the best kind of upma. An unopened packet sits on my dining table (just been lazy to pick up the 200 gm packet to the kitchen closet, but actually contemplating to shove it in the thrash can) and half a sauce pan of already prepared dry upma sits on the cooking range. I ate about half the contents of the prepared upma, or at least attempted to eat it. With my tongue and upper palette of the mouth doubling as the molars and pre-molars, there was not much that I could do other than buff up my tongue. When I am done with this ordeal, I could probably pull a car with my tongue. The result: it is 11:20 at night and I am still hungry.

Saw Namastey London today. Actually, I rented out 1971, Namastey London and Nishabd so I could write nifty reviews. Nishabd is done, so it was Akshay's day. I must say that I had underestimated the movie. It actually had a few laughs. Other than the absurd dance and song sequences that most movies sport, this one added a new twist to the bandwagon...Indian actors and actresses that can not speak remotely proper Hindi...not even Bombaiya Hindi. Come on guys, Bombaiya is simple...I grew up on it. I know that the characters of Katrina Kaif and Upen Patel were supposed to be British brats and not supposed to know good Hindi, but if you can speak that much hindi, you better get the accent right. I also think that the character of Imran Khan was a तोत्ला . Seriously. It was hilarious. But the sub-title writers probably had the last laugh...or it was me who laughed most at the sub-titles. There were at least five different spellings to every word that had the audacity to appear five times in the movie. They even spelled 'Arjun' as 'Arejun'. Say it in you mind a couple of times...it makes Akshay Kumar, who is supposed to be a punjab-da-munda sound like he was born in Vellore. 'Arejun' is exactly how you would pronounce 'Arjun' with a South-Indian accent.

The American southerners have plagiarized my name though. They have had a hard time to have to say 'Abhishek' but manage it because I do not give them any choice. Only my friends call me Shek. So, my last name has been butchered to Muhaji. They all remember 'Haji' from Jhonny Quest and my boss would lose track after pronouncing 'Mu..'...so Sven added the two together. Thankfully, they only call me that when they are exceptionally happy with my wit (when my wit is used effectively against them). Sven has been mumbling for a few days that if there is any Caucasian American that looks like me, it is John Lovitz and that I should blog about the similarities. So, here you go Svenie Bunny, I have blogged about John Lovitz, and NO, I do not look like him...HELL NO.

Nishabd...the review

Having spent a good evening at my friend's place, rasam, dal, some chawal, and ice-cream and having dabbled into their Sopranos marathon, I was thoroughly mentally spent. I had to leave before I got hooked on. Now, I really wanted to blog about how some people take ten minutes to get to 35 miles per hour from a dead stop at a traffic light, but the anti-biotics inside wanted me to claim the bed. The DVD of Nishabd sat on the drivers seat along with a collection of ready made and semi ready made miscellaneous food items from the indian store. Hey, I just wanted to shake some cobwebs from my head and watch what I thought was a thought-provoking-ahead-of-its-time movie. I do not go for movies based on who produced it and who directed it, I go for face values. If it looks good in the trailers, if the cinematography looks decent, I go for it and I must admit Nishabd looked nice in the trailer.I was watching Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead with Arjun back in UFL on Malkhani's TV, and watching Jimmy 'The Saint' Tosnia in his first ten minutes of glory had Arjun commenting that the movie had no scope and it takes only ten minutes for anyone to figure out how good the movie is. I argued that it may take more than just ten minutes, but he proved me wrong at least for that particular Andy Garcia movie.

Nishabd started off with Amitabh Bachchan preparing to jump off a cliff, and ten minutes later, I knew why. He probably, no, not probably, definitely felt guilty for acting in the piece of shit movie. Ten minutes and the way the scenes progressed, the dialogues, the acting in the part of Amitabh, Revathy and Jia had me scampering for my pain killers so I could feel drowsy and high. I think the only sane acting was of Amitabh's daughter, Ritu (Shraddha Arya).

Nishabd did wrong what all american parents do wrong. That 18 year old Jia needed vunn tiiight slap, not glamor shots while she drenched herself from the garden sprinklers. Then I saw Amitabh running into the house for his camera. I completely understand that the director wanted to portray an adolescent lust in its primal stage, but it ended up becoming one of the phunniest scenes in the movie.

Love happened right here (see picture >>). Till this scene, any sane 23 year old would have seen signs of a mentally unstable girl. Of course, a 23 year old would have handled the movie differently [evil grin] but lets not deviate from the topic. Amitabh plays a 60 year old. If he would have tossed her skinny arse in the back seat of the uncomfortable Maruti Gypsy and kept it there, the movie would have ended in fifteen minutes, which means there would have been no movie, just a vacation in the tea gardens for Mr. Bachchan and cast and crew and Shek here would be wealthier by $1.99

Fifty eight minutes into the movie, Jia proposes to Amitabh. There is still time to plant that vunn tiiight slap square on this off-the-hook eighteen year old...but no, they kiss while Revathy's picture on the wall watches in horror.

My recommendations to the man, Mr. Ram Gopal Varma, is to go to a neumerologist or something, add a 'd', an 'a' or whatever. Mr Ram Gopal Verma, please click here: link for help with future endeavours. Maybe the movie would have had more sense if it was spelled Nishaabd or Nishabdd. Hey, Zubeidaa worked well that way, other than the fact that it was based on a good story. Adlabs owes me $1.99 and I vow to not give it up ever.

Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film For Theaters

Sven is a die hard fan of ATHF, the series. So much, that I call him 'Master-Shake'. I tried watching it but could not identify with the genre of comedy. He grew up in New Jersey, so he completely does. I guess I did not take an effort to identify with the comedy...till I saw the commercial to the movie. I am hooked to the brilliance of the creators. Now, I completely love the concept and have willingly set my DVR to record all shows.

Here is the trailer:


Also, the Boston incident kinds helped in the publicity. Here is the news link.

Water

I recently saw the movie Water. It touched me immensely. I can see why it had all that opposition. I have never been an ardent follower of Hindi movies...I just watch the good ones. Most of Amir Khan's work, Nagesh Kukunoor's work is what I like to watch. I like to watch movies that are more realistic and not over the top. Therefore, I can not stand over-glamorized movies like everything that Karan Johar makes, no offense to his work and his fans.

I have had an idea of how the widows were treated back in the day...but watching the raw hypocrisy of the Hindu culture sent a cold chill to my bone. I feel ashamed to be a part of my culture, but I also trust my teachings. Widows are no longer treated with inferiority in most parts of the country any more, but the hypocrisy continues on. No matter how much I hate hypocrisy, I think we all (Indians) have it in our blood. It is a way of life for some people who practice it without intention or knowledge...and some people like me hold dormant hypocritic views.

Yes, I agree that I can be hyporcitic at times but it is like a mirror that makes me look at myself, question my actions and thoughts and hopefully influence me to make the right decision. No matter how optimistically I direct my hypocritic energy, it can't be denied that I harbor hypocritic thoughts. Thoughts that I have to logically reason out. Logical reasoning is an easy exercise for me, being an engineer, I live eight plus hours a day with MS Access queries, Excel spreadsheets and analysis. The only thing dissatisfying about logically reasoning out every problem is that we leave emotions out. Not many ideas can sustain by themselves without emotions as emotion is nature and by denying emotions, we deny nature ( nature can not be denied).

Laya helps keep me from getting too logical. She fills the gaps with emotions. That is the reason why I love her so much. She needs me and I need her.