Well …

Starring Salmaan Khan, Akshay kumar and Preity

Most fun movie I have watched since “Malamaal Weekly”. The movie was HILARIOUS. There is a bit of senti stuff too, but it hardly ever gets heavy. Now this is called Entertainment!

Do watch it if you haven’t yet already. I assure you, it’ll be fun.

Novel by Dharmveer Bharathi
The language of a book, in my opinion, influences the way you look at the characters, the plot, the conflicts etc. a lot. Hindi is any day closer to my sensibility than English. I realized that while reading a Hindi novel, I am a lot more sensitive, a lot more conforming, a lot more accomodating than I am when I read an English one.

“Gunahon ka devata” was written in the 1970s, if I am not mistaken. One of the classics in Hindi literature. I should say, the book is pretty progressive for its age. Conflicts in relationships is the central theme of the book. It raises a lot of questions and attempts to answer some. I might not agree with the author completely, but its nevertheless nice to know that others go through the same things you do.

But that is all I am willing to talk about here. Read the book to know more :-p

Movie without head or tail. Na sar na paov.

The plot has nothing to it, the acting has nothing to it … the movie is a nothing. I think the point they were trying to make in the movie is that the enemy is also one like you, but that didn’t come out well either.

But John Abraham was by far the worst. He was so out of place as a reporter. Infact, he was redundant. Arshad Warsi was way way better than this dude. They (at Bollywood) bring models (Aishwarya Rai is another example) in and make them actors. There is nothing to them except a pretty face and a nice body. They can’t act!

Book by Kiran Desai

This book won the Man Booker prize for a reason.

Hard to point to one thing and say this is what the book is about. There isn’t a beginning and end because the story goes back and forth in time. Its hard to say where the book is set because it goes back and forth between places too. But a majority of the story is set in Kalimpong during the India-Nepal insurgency.

The book deals with a myriad of issues, colonial “heritage”, regionalism-nationalism, gender politics and much more. The best part is the author doesn’t try to propagandize or pit one side against the other. There is misery in the book, in the story, in the language that she uses … through and through … but not the kind of misery that photographers get awards for shooting. The kind of misery that is most personal to oneself. The book isn’t drama, its real life.

I think I should add some excerpts from the book to do justice to the book in the review. One has to read Kiran Desai to appreciate what experimenting with language usage is. Reminded me of Anita Desai time and again, she too has a very unique style to her writings.

Nice read. I’d recommend it.

Watch it!

Awesome fun, guaran-****in’-teed!

Play by SilverBlue Productions.

I guess, one needs to watch a bad play once in a while to be able to appreciate the good ones. This was one of those. It was awful. End of the play, I didn’t even know what the play was about.

It was my first play experience at Alliance Franchaise. I don’t think I will go back there. The stage and the seating, both are very bad. Rangashankara is great.

Book by Gullermo Martinez

Its a mathematical detective novel, so to say. There is nothing hugely mathematical in the story line itself, but because the novel is set in Oxford and the narrator is a mathematician, he ventures into a number of mathematical conjectures, theorems and, sometimes, into their philosophical connotation. It was okay, not too great.

Personally, I am not too fond of detective novels. One is left too much at the mercy of the author. The author is at liberty to hide important facts that are critical to the story line. The author can also send you on a wild goose chase at will. Not much is left open for interpretation, too much is controlled by the author. I am not very fond of such books. I like books where there is room for imagination.

Oxford Murders is surely not one of those.

Play by Evam

Writer: Yasmina Reza

Director: Evam

Cast: Evam (Do not know the name of the entire cast and crew)

The play revolves around three middle-aged friends, Serge, a dermitologist, Marc, an aeronautical engineer and Yvan, a stationary vendor. The play starts off with Serge buying a work of art for a huge sum of money, which he describes as being “incredibly modern”. Marc doesn’t approve of it just as he doesn’t approve of anything “modern” and Yvan can’t make up his mind either way. A conflict of identities ensues and is the main theme of play. Conflict of identities.

“If I am who I am because I am who I am and you are who you are because you are who you are, then I am who I am and you are who you are. But, however, if I am who I am because you are who you are and you are who you are because I am who I am then I am not who I am and you are not who you are.”

The play deals with how identities emerge, how we relate ourselves with our times either by being part of it or by opposing it or by …

Well, I guess this is a very simplistic view of the play. The play deals with a whole lot of other things too, but I guess 1.5 hours is not enough to assimilate everything.

The best part is … its a comedy.

Evam is a young energetic group. The last time I watched them was when they were in Bangalore to play Double comedy - Monty Python and Hamlet. Had thoroughly enjoyed it. Art was also performed well. Initially, I felt a lack of energy in the actors. But slowly it kinda grows on to you and by the end of it everyone was having fun.

They are here tomorrow too. Do watch it. 29th october, 3:30 and 7:30 show, Rangashankara.

Book by William Golding

Its about a bunch of kids who get marooned on an island after some kind of a plane crash.

The book explores the dynamics of survival and the dark side of human psyche in a setting where there is only a distant recollection of civilization and civilized life.

In all, a great read.

Starring: Naseeruddin Shah, Shabana Azmi

I cried. Again.