Cinema theestaru anta cinema

Spring break this time was not a break....in fact.....when i got back to books.....felt that was break.....:)

There is this roomie of mine whos as cranky as i m if not more...... both of us have this childish line of thought.......both of us had this cranky idea of making a movie........:)

so when there was a call from the Houston Telugu Association to participate in their Ugadi celebrations this year, Satish (another guy whos probably not as cranky as we are...) and Soma had this idea to make a movie and play it there...... So what happens when 3 mad men get together? passions match and each give in 150% of their complete attention to it....

man.....must agree it was exhilarating......the whole experience....planning the shoots, deciding the screenplay.....writing dialogues....acting.... making others act..... planning on lighting.....deciding camera angles...:) and for soma n satish...apart from all this, writing lyrics, singing, climbing trees, falling into swimming pools, editing, compiling......

of all things.. it was sleepless nights that was the best........soma's style of functioning is like rahman's.....he starts all his creative work in the mostly unearthly times.....and it was fun.....probably for the whole of spring break and a week before and after that..... soma and satish would have spent about a maximum of 10 hours sleeping....

and finally, when the movie was being played in the houston hall, this was our state.....no sleep for more than 30 hours before the point this photo was taken.....soma no longer cares whats happening, satish trying desperately to stay as hero as he can get ..... n me? continue to be the fool that i am....only with time from the last wink increasing....its difficult to control what nonsense u speak and do :)



so here are the links to the "movie" we made.... all of 12 minutes... but took tonnes n tonnes of effort ( man hours are probably about 300-500 !! )......

Shiva- Born again : part 1, part 2
the good? we started understanding what it takes to make a full length movie...
the bad? we now watch every movie with such a critical view.... start seeing how, where the cameras are....the lighting for the scene....the way the actor performed and emoted for that scene...how relevant the scene is to the movie...how the dialogues sound dry or too senti.... in the process....we stop seeing the big picture......
when u watch a nice movie, its supposed to consume you....take you with it.... u must start feeling it.... u must become a part of it...... but for us, thats lot more difficult now......in this attempt to understand movie making better, we started losing the entertainment quotient from it......atleast no longer the conventional way..... u know, we are no longer able to laugh when we are supposed to :)..... when me and soma watch a movie now, we laugh at something stupid that was done in the movie :) thats comedy for us now :)

movie making rocked :)

cell "phony"

Finally.... I have a cell phone too.....easier to stay unconnected this way........:)

Whats ur weird story for today?

Honk... Honk....


"Excuuuuse meeee......!!!" "Excuuuuse meeee......!!!" "Excuuuuse meeee......!!!" giggle...giggle....giggle.....

(me?)..... turning back to see a car full of hot white american chicks......

the car drives by closer to the footpath i have already frozen on..... ears getting hotter.... fiddling with the keys in the pocket into which the hands automatically sunk into....panic..... tension....excitement...

"Err.... this might sound really weird..... but we have a question..."

GULP...... so this is it... they r gonna ask some directions.....? gonna mess this up..... stutter... stammer.... fake accents.....hope the question has a single word answer.....

"So which religion do you belong to?"

!!!!! now, I have racist.... communal... white american chicks to answer to .....???

".............hindu......"

"Scuse me.... what?"

"......hrrr.... koff.... Hindu"

"AAh... cool..... thanks.....we just turned in a class report on that" " You have a great day...."

Car drives away.........

!!!!....... weird? so i thought too......

To pen my thoughts - Adi's Blog

Been ages since I last saw a hero pen. The authentic fountain ink pen that used to be a fancy of everyone of us when we were first introduced to ink pens in school. And then, how we used to getting so sentimentally attached to the single hero pen in our 'pencil' boxes..... Akhil, my officemate, revived those memories recently. He still uses those 332, 336 series. And whats best? He uses Chelpark blue ink.... Adi's all time favourite.....

Since Adi dosent maintain a blog, I thought I did bring up his article written sometime back here.

To ink my thoughts

An ironical tagline of an advertisement that reads, “Everybody loves good handwriting”, is used to promote a ball point pen that supposedly improves one’s handwriting. Preposterous I say. Back when we were schoolchildren, when we graduated from the usage of pencils to that of pens, we were advised, nay, plain ordered by teachers, parents, elder siblings and the like to strictly use nothing but a fountain/ink pen. The use of a ball pen was frowned upon; the argument being, an ink pen improves one’s handwriting, and a ball pen does the right opposite. We were gifted with a good ink pen (which often turned out to be the much coveted Chinese made ‘Hero’ brand of pens) by uncles or aunts or avuncular friends of father, and were encouraged to take good care of it and use it carefully for years to come; the idea being, the longer you stuck to a particular ink pen the smoother it would write. Indeed, it was a matter of pride to own a fountain pen which one had been using for many years – an object of desire for one’s classmates – and such pens were to be guarded with one’s life!

If her/his majesty, the owner of such a pen, was magnanimous enough to permit lesser mortals to write a word or two with her/his pen – which (s)he would, more often than not (albeit with an affectation of not entirely glad about the prospect), for, who at that age does not like to show off – adulatory words and ‘ooh’ and ‘aahs’ and other expressions of delight would fill the classroom! This brings me to another popular belief of that era: that as time goes by, an ink pen is moulded in accordance with the owner’s style of writing – the way (s)he grips the pen, the angle at which the nib strikes the paper, and other such criteria. This aspect is primarily what qualifies an ink pen to be a very individualistic article. Like I mentioned, a proud owner of a well used ink pen might occasionally allow his/her pals to write a word or two with it, but strictly no more. Ink pens were not lent even to the best of buddies or worst of bullies. Sometimes, a person develops an emotional bond with his/her pen that has accompanied him for many years and withstood the test(s) of time (pun intended) much like a batsman would his favourite bat with which he made all his centuries. I know of people who have written all their examinations with the same pen and would have scored considerably less had fate forced them to write with another pen.

Juxtaposing a ball pen with an ink pen vis-à-vis the points just discussed cannot be more striking in its contrast. A ball pen hardly qualifies as a gift to be cherished. It is ephemeral; today, only the most penniless poet or unabashed miser would continue to reuse a ball pen by changing its refill, till the time it breaks (no pun intended this time though!). One would scarce consider a ball pen to be one’s prized possession (mind you, we are speaking here of the common ball pens meant for everyday use and not the gold embossed, diamond studded status symbols). A ball pen is so impersonal and dispensable that it is freely lent, lost, misplaced, and thrown, without the slightest realization of its loss. True, ball pens write more smoothly than most ink pens but that is because the former are assembly line products that are all the same. On the other hand, every ink pen has a character of its own, and an ink pen earns the honor of being described as smooth. That is what makes it special.

Some people with a more utilitarian bent of mind would perhaps scoff at all this and speak about one factor that is seemingly the ball pen’s USP and the ink pen’s bane – maintenance. A ball pen of decent quality does not leak, they would point, nor does it obstinately refuse to write all of a sudden when it slips into one of its melancholic moods, and it can be thrown from one corner of a classroom to another sans the fear of an ink shower! At them, I am tempted to hit right back, quite strongly at that, by quoting an old Tamil aphorism which translates to “A donkey cannot be expected to appreciate the smell of camphor!” I could not have put more succinctly myself! The aforementioned ‘ill’ qualities of an ink pen that are ridiculed by pragmatists are the very ones that cause the romantic’s heart to spring alive! No young man or woman can claim to have a complete schooling without ever going home with their pristine white uniform splattered generously with kaleidoscopic patterns of different hues - caused variously, by practical jokes, personal vendetta, gang fights, or sheer carelessness and, needless to say - receiving a sound thrashing for the misdeed. Come to think of it, the leaky nature of ink pens simply lead to an addition to the denizens of the pencil box - the ‘ink-cloth’ that was torn by mom from some old cotton fabric.

An aside – We used to play a game inside the classroom when at school, aptly christened ‘pen fight’, which involved placing one pen each by two players on extreme ends of the table, which they took turns to strike with their fingers, the same way one would a carom board striker, with the sole objective of knocking the opponent’s pen out of the table. The game was played mainly using pencils or ball pens but certainly not ink pens partly out of respect, but more for the practical reason that all that knocking about would result in an ink bath when the pen was opened after the game!

I go back to the fond memories of how my brother taught me to take good care of my ink pens. Of how he insisted during the annual summer vacation that I take apart my fountain pen (much like Mr. Bond would have his Browning, I used to fancy) and leave it in a bowl of water for a day and place it to dry in the open verandah the next afternoon so as to get rid of persistent problems caused by old, dry ink (the ink pen’s own version of annual spa and tan; can you name one ball pen that has had this privilege?). Of how he taught me to point the pen upside down, nib aimed inside the ink bottle, while screwing close the last few turns of the pen after filling it, to ensure that any extra ink does not spill out of the tank and at the same time aiding the pen in its ink flow. Of how he preferred the uncommon ‘Chelpark’ brand of ink over that of the more common and popular ‘Bril’ , and how I aped him in this aspect thus believing that my written words had a classy touch of subtle blue and not the gross dark blue of ‘Bril’ that I looked down upon!

Pray, these words of mine are not meant to stultify or demean the ball pen clan. They are meant only to reminisce about and share with the reader, my feelings toward the ink pen, and connect with my brethren; old timers like me who lament over the fast growing popularity of ball/gell pens at the expense of their more graceful and elegant predecessors who are fast reaching extinction. I concede, however, that this indignation of mine is probably due to my inability to accept the changes that the tides of time bring, and that users of quill pens would have felt much the same way when the ink pen made its debut!

Happy Diwali

This is indeed the second diwali away from home. Away from adi. Away from all the crackers. But then, this is also by far the most memorable diwali. There has never been anyone, who wrote any special poem for me. Until now, that is. Vichika, wrote this small piece as a diwali wish. Boy, and it soo very well sums up what we did all these days.

Thank you Vichika.

Moon light walks,
Google talks.
Cribbing,Mugging,
Teasing,Chatting.
Schlotzsky lunches,
Jitter benches.
Coffee treats,
Balcony seats.
Friday night movies,
Nostalgic stories...
In our own unique ways,
We've had so many memorable days!

So true vichi... so true.....

Take on wars

What is about war? What is it that triggers millions of soldiers lose their lives fighting? What is it about the power of one man to bring a nation to war with another? All these have been cliched questions oft discussed, but never answered satisfactorly to ever since time unknown......

The questions seem to find increasing relevance again, in such a war torn world today. More so in the American context. Since the end of the "great" war, by the end of late 40s, the wars that America has been engaging its soldiers in, has been very different from the conventional reasons that history has known. While its true that every time troops are mobilized to some distant land far from the political boundaries defining this country, threat to national security is cited, its difficult to believe that thousands of fully trained soldiers lose their lives fighting what is actually somebody else's war.Take vietnam, afganisthan(the one that created taliban first), somalia,gulf war 1 then and 2 now.... In all these cases, troops are engaged into mind numbing battles based on the whims and fancies of one individual......

Take an Indian soldier for instance(we are discussing india here, only because thats the only army from a democratically controlled country that I know a little about). The battles that he fights are those where he sees a direct threat to his own country. Its easier to put a group of soldiers into combat, when they are convinced into believing that their motherland is under foreign attack. Further, an Indian soldier is almost always within or at the political boundaries of his country. I do agree that some army units are engaged in UN peace keeping efforts elsewhere, but we are not talking about them here. In case of US, however, the story is different. There has been no attack on the mainland since its formation. Of course, 9/11 did happen, but that is only a single isolated incident by a terrorist who got extremely lucky with his plan.

But the point of the matter is that, how is it that the American policy makers, convince an ordinary soldier into fighting in foreign lands, to sort out someone else's problems? Take the Somalia issue for example.Or even the Vietnam war. America politburo, in each case, see a particular man getting powerful. And this power was orienting towards the other end of the then bi-polar world. So, they try to take rise internal disturbances, and offer military support to restore normalcy (at least this is how its widely perceived in the world, the truth of the matter would however be always under contention). While it maybe possible that military generals are fully aware of the real intentions of sending troops to such war torn places, what about the soldier on the battleground? Wouldnt he be ever wondering who the real enemy is? Under such circumstances, would the soldier consider it respectable to die in such a battle (which in normal circumstances is a moment of glory for him?)

It is interesting to wonder, that in every conflict the US offers support or tries to intervene, what would have happened if it never did, in the first place? Every time, the only answer is that the intervention was necessary to prevent further damage. But, did the damage really stop? Or did it only get worse? Applying the laws of thermodynamics, any system would always tend towards a region of minimum internal energy when left to itself(it may take time, but it is bound to return to a "good" state). An external force would only push it further away from this region. Military support, I believe is just this. In any case, military action can only make matters worse.

It is also interesting to see where the two largest democracies now stand in terms of military might they exert over their regions of political clout. While on one hand, we have had crazy people taking up presidencies (and then subsequently plunging their troops into wars that were not their own), on the other, it has always been an extremely dormant and weak government unable to plug the continuous acts of violence that the country it rules,was being subjected to. Both have their drawbacks. And both need to learn lessons from each other. India, should learn to take strong decisions when the situation calls for. US, for its own good, should stop thrusting so much power on a single individual.

'Left' Out

It has always been this way... Being left hander was never a direct advantage. Never.In school, in college, at work..... Every computer lab,I had a favourite spot... I prefer using one terminal as I could change the mouse orientation.... but when someone decides to take my seat, hes psyched... everything works on the reverse for him/me! Why cant people accept the fact that there do exist left handers... and its normal to be so.... everytime I pick a pen to write... people go " oh.... u r a leftie!!!" ......so??! why does there have to be an exclamation... a comment.... an expression of sneer,mock, shock,surprise(based on how good the friend turns out to be) for something as trivial as to what hand you use...!

On the 13th of August, is the WORLD LEFT HANDERS DAY..... i dont believe in celebrating days.... frindship day... valentines day... mothers day... fathers day..... man.... theres a day for everything... n i dont believe in either of them...... do u really need a day to celebrate something like friendship, love, mom and dad!! LEFT HANDERS DAY... so now the world of right,decide to celebrate us, ppl of the world of left, a day in a year!
I liked this song..... so for all the left handers who have been through everything that i did.. n do..... heres one....!

Left-Handers Lament by Ian Radburn

Now here's the story of my life,
I've had fun but lots of strife,
For I was born left-handed, but I'm proud
To be one of the elite, right-handers we can beat
We're the 10% that stand out from the crowd!

But as a little lad, oh the problems that I had
Winding clockwork toys was just a mystery
Tying laces was a pain, couldn't get it in my brain
Everything was back-to-front it seemed to me

Chorus
We're the Cack-Handed Kings, we're the LEFTIES
You right-handers just haven't got a clue
'Cos if you'd been through what we've been through
Then maybe you would feel superior too!

At 5 I started school where I was treated like a fool
Being left-handed I stood out from the pack
And learning how to write was not a struggle - more a fight
For I had my left hand tied behind my back

"Now get it in your head" the sympathetic teacher said
"You use the right and not the Devil's side"
Those supposed men of vision caused me pain and such derision
Is it any wonder often times I cried?

We're the Gibble Fisted Friends, we're the LEFTIES (repeat chorus)

Time then came when my voice dropped
And my face was one big spot
But I was glad to see my teenage years arrive,
Because I use my left, I was different from the rest
And the girls saw me as something of a prize!

I learned some handy tricks in the back row of the flicks
It used to drive my girlfriends all berserk
For their eyes would keep apace of my right hand - just in case
And they never saw my left one go to work!

We're the Southpawed Princes, we're the LEFTIES (repeat chorus)

Well I'm married now, worst luck
But my wife has given up
Asking me to help with chores like peeling spuds,
Or trying to cut the bread, I'll get a 4 x 2" wedge
Lose three fingertips and half a pint of blood

I would love to be a dad, but we've hit a little snag
If you can help please tell us what to do
The problem simply said, is that I'm a left-hand thread
But my wife you see, now she's a right-hand .....OH, YES WE'RE THE

Scrummy-Handed Heroes, we're the LEFTIES (repeat chorus)

Now we reach today, where you stand and watch me play
And yes, I play right-handed it is true
For the very simple fact is that I've had to adapt
Something all we southpaws have to try and do

We have trouble tying ties, writing cheques out, using knives
and scissors made for use in your right hand
And when it comes to sport once again we are left short
In hockey and in polo we are banned

We're the Cuddy Wifter Winners, we're the LEFTIES (repeat chorus)

Now I've finished off my song and as you move along
Please bear in mind the things I've had to say
And please show some respect for your friends who use the left
Thanks for listening to me this Left-Handers Day.

Copyright: Ian Radburn, 2004