I turn thirty-three.
Here is the short of it.
I did not like “Slumdog Millionaire”. Or perhaps I should say I was not at all impressed. Maybe it was all the hype, the Oscar buzz and the “It is soooo awesome” first-person accounts I have heard over the last few weeks that led me to go into the theater with unrealistic expectations. Perhaps.
First let us get the standard attacks on reviews one does not like out of the way.
Yes yes I am being contrarian to get attention.
Yes yes I am too idiotic to understand a truly great movie.
Yes yes I suffer from a third-world siege mentality where I am offended by anything that does not show my country in a purely positive light.
If we can now move beyond these, then let us proceed.
And yes. If you have not seen the movie, then perhaps you are better off not going below the fold (though I try my best not to give away the ending) if you want to “experience” without any pre-knowledge this supposed masterpiece.
Because of certain commitments and demands on my time, I have not been able to see as many “awesomely great movies” as I would like this year. Old time readers of RTDM will know that awesomely great movies are those celluloid creations which on low budget and on even lesser expectations provide “bharpoor’ entertainment, typically in a different way than the producers of the movies intended. [2007, 2006, 2005]
You know that there is something inherently wrong with the world.
You know there is something wrong in the world when Santa Claus gets postal, takes a gun and starts killing people.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Amidst the tumultuous events of the last few weeks, two patriots have risen from the flames, very different in their perspectives, almost mirror opposites and yet combined, they somehow complete each other (like Batman and the Joker). Or maybe the more accurate word would be—neutralize each other.
One is of course minorities minister Antulay, whose patriotic credentials were never in doubt —after all who could be a greater patriot than someone, who as a chief minister, was convicted of extorting builders to donate to an Indira Gandhi trust. The fact that such a person, even after this, can hold a ministerial post is evidence enough of how high we value his service to the nation.
When innocents die on a railway platform lives snuffed out senselessly, the string-pullers behind this massacre arrested and released four days later and when general injustice and inequities abound all around, some people, who still have some hope and believe in imaginary friends, look heavenwards and ask “God , what are you doing?”
According to the Chopras, God (or Rab or Great Flying Spaghetti Monster or Bhagwan or whatever you want to call that person who sits up above) is busy with other things of greater importance.
He is making “jodis”. And that too “halle halle”. [The song "Halle Halle" in Rab Na Bana Di Jodi , for some unfathomable reason, brings to my demented mind memories of the Mammoth Koirala starrer "Market" wherein a lady of commerce tells her client "Zyara hallu hallu kar".]
A few years ago, I was having a telephonic conversation with one of my best friends from high school and the topic turned to Arundhati Roy. She asked me why I never said a kind word about her on my blog and told me to write a post explaining what exactly I found so objectionable about her, something she felt I never clearly articulated even though it was obvious I was not a fan.
So dear friend if you still follow the blog, this is it. The answer to that question asked. Many years ago.
The single line answer to why I do not like her is that Arundhati Roy is that she is a fundamentalist. And I have an aversion to fundamentalists. Of all forms.