Le Coupe de Feu...Perils lay ahead of you, Harry Potter

As the huge stadium comes into focus, and the magical creatures, witches and wizards cheer the seekers, beaters, and players of the teams of Ireland and Bulgaria, we dive headlong into The Goblet of Fire.



The next instant, however, you almost feel sorry for having pardoned the director for taking liberty with the book's actual beginning and bringing Harry directly into the Weasley's house and completely missing out on the excitement of the World Cup (they didn't even seem to know where they were being led to). This happens because even before you come close to realizing and appreciating the grandeur of the Quidditch World Cup and the stature of the competing teams, you are led as far away from the entire thing as anybody could have thought possible.

The match is over in a jiffy and before you can say Snitch, the dark mark appears in the sky but even before you get to say Death-Eaters, the scene changes to one inside Hogwarts with Dumbledore welcoming the teams from two other schools of magic to participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament. If not anything else, the tournament lives up to its promise, but for the rather step-motherly treatment of the character of Victor Krum who deserved much more in terms of covergae (negative or positive) if one goes by the book.

Going by the book, however applicable the quote might have been in this case, was not easy at all for Mike Newell. Not only is this edition of the Potter saga the longest ever to have been filmed, it was also fraught with many firsts. This book, in a way, has been the turning point of the entire Harry Potter story. This is where the friends, Ron, Harry, and Hermione enter into their adolescence. This is where they have their first crushes and ball. This is also where the Quidditch World Cup and the Tri-Wizard Tournament happen. Most importantly, this is where the story becomes dark with the rise of Voldemort, leading up to the next book, probably the darkest in the series so far (even more than "Half Blood Prince", the latest, in my humble opinion).

For Potter fans, the story has its own relevance and more than anything, they would love to see justice being done to the entirety of the story. For such viewers, the movie's screenplay and rather awkward editing would have been a let-down. However, unlike other movies-taken-from-books, this one has a screenplay that scores in the sense that it does not leave behind those viewers who have never even read the Harry Potter books. This, probably, is the biggest strength of this edition, scoring even higher than the previous Harry Potter movies, which, though successful in depicting the story correctly, did not put proper emphasis on understanding and bringing out the finer points.

The director here, however, succeeds in doing just that. The kind of treatment given to the character formation is just adequate. All that he missed out on (probably intentionally) was to reflect the dark mood of the climax. The rise of Voldemort was treated very properly by Rowling and it actually built a lot of anticipation about the next edition (which lived up to it, by the way) and this anticipation was as full of foreboding of something dark and evil as it was exciting about the kiddy saga itself.

In terms of acting, the actors seem to have fitted into their characters almost perfectly. It is impossible to imagine Danielle Radcliffe doing anything else and even Emma Watson seems in it for long. With new characters and actors portraying the competitors of Tri-Wizard Tournament, the beautiful and bewitching French witch Fleur and the sturdy stud Bulgarian, Victor, not to mention Mad eye Moody and of course, Voldemort, the scope has been widened for the movie industry to treat the rest of Potter movies with more respect and probably more high-flying a cast than the ones so far have been.

The fantasy of Harry Potter, despite what the latest movie is or is not able to achieve, shall live on because of the books and the legend that Potter has become (right from the merchandise to the rumour-mills to the web sites). The Goblet of Fire, however, is Newell's attempt to pay a tribute to the legend and contribute to its making, at the same time. It may not be time yet to say whether he succeeded in it or not, but one thing is for sure...you better have your seatbelt on and mouth gagged if you are a fan like me and are on the verge of seeing, after having visulaized the scene umpteen times, Harry defeat the dragon or plunge into the sea or fall from his broom, and you can say that again and again...and again.

Tag tag go away

Pranay tagged me on this one but he never even informed me of it. However, the jobless vella that I am, I went to his blog during my daily blog scan (all right, it is more like thrice or four times a week now) and saw that my name figured in golden letters on his latest post.

Under normal circumstances, I would have just ignored the damn thing but the comment that Pranay made about the probability of my having already done such a thing, set me thinking. And given the egoist, self-important fool that I am, it made absolute sense to go for a tag that wanted me to list down 20 random things about MYself. I thought, "here is the chance to impress all the girls who read my blog, let me just mention that I actually am the Indian Superman in disguise" but then, not many girls read my blog and of those who do, not many are THAT stupid and finally, I am not really interested, right now (why not, will be another story, which, incidentally, does not figure in the following list of 20).

1. I am sentimental with the word spelt in capital, like S-E-N-T-I-M-E-N-T-A-L. I get touchy over small things and then make life hell for my self and friends.
2. My mood swings need no rhyme nor reason. They come and go of their own free will and till date, I have not been able to figure out one single, unifying, substantial cause.
3. I am really close to my family and good friends and ever since I saw death up close for the first time, some two years ago, I have realized how everything else pales away in comparison.
4. Unlike earlier, when I could not sleep without my dose of reading, I no longer need any sleep-inducers and can fall asleep at the drop of a hat.
5. I am pretty conscious about my physical appearance and tend to imagine more than others say or hint at, when it comes to the hair, fat, eyes, color, et al.
6. I feel that I am good at a lot of things but not exceptional in anything. It is even reflected in my academic, professional, and personal life so far.
7. Even though I am a right hander, I feel more in control through my left hand...use the left hand to balance and right hand for the job when I need to use one of my hands while riding a bike, cycle, etc.
8. In addition to my moodiness, I suffer from pangs of introspection where I am even open to berating myself aloud for things I did or did not do.
9. My toes are exceptionally long, compared to the other fingers, which is remarkable enough to be called an abnormality, in a doctor's words.
10. Out of all experiences with the specimens of the opposite sex that I have come to interact with, I have had uncountable crushes, four infatuations (including one for a higher secondary teacher), and one experience of what I can only call love.
11. As always, I still believe myself to be a romantic at heart but have grown into being absolutely cynical about falling in love, life-long relationships, made for each other stories and the like.
12. I crave for society, banter, and gaiety and often go over board in trying to make the most of a social occasion.
13. More often than not, I sleep with my mouth wide open, and body lying flat in the death posture, arms folded on the chest and no movement taking place at all.
14. I tend to remember names but forget faces and as such, have been into many embarassing situations where people recognize me on the streets but I am unable to place them.
15. In ranked order, my passions (I am passionate about a lot of things) would include event management, movies (read Hindi, read Amitabh), comics, friendship, women, sleeping, music, reading, and cooking.
16. I tend to walk with my left hand quite close to the central rest position and the right arm making lot of to-and-fro movements about the shoulder pivot.
17. I am absolutely unafraid of looking down from great heights but when it comes to looking up to something at a great height (like the top of a multistorey or just the star studded sky), I get the jitters and feel as if I will fall, even though I may be safely moored to the ground. I am also a bit claustrophobic.
18. I am given to gadgets a lot. My future home has plasma screens in every room, GPS giving the current location of occupants (somewhat like the Weasleys' clock in Harry Potter), clap sensitive or even better, voice recognition switching mechanisms, automated cleaning and maintenance, and artificially intelligent support and security system.
19. The single longest stretch I have gone without sleep has been for about 76 hours and I believe that I can do even more if I am sufficiently passionate (refer point 15) about something.
20. I am a very good liar and it comes very easily to me, sometimes even without any pangs of regret. Unless I want to, the other person can never figure out that I am lying to him/her.

People who want to follow up on this tag can do so with pleasure. For others, you need to be thankful that I am not in one of my spiteful moods today :D

Ek Mela, ek kahaani

The Prologue

It was just another day for Anjali, a day that was not much different from the one that just passed and more or less the same as what could be expected of the coming one. As she stepped into the last tube that would take her home, Anjali prepared herself for the flood of memories and thoughts that always accompanied her on such journeys, which she otherwise was quite lonely on.

Ever since Anjali joined her first job, she had been independent and on her feet. When her company asked her to go on-site, the repressed software engineer in her found the opening that was so much required. She never thought twice about leaving India as she was not leaving behind any one of any import. She was quite alone...but never a loner. Popular amongst friends and foes alike, right through school and college, Anjali was feeling left out, after quite some time.

The journey begins

It always started with this, the Mela of thoughts, from the first day on foreign soil for Anjali. As she waited for her luggage at the squeaky clean airport terminal that she could never have seen in India, Anjali's eyes looked up to the monitor near her. They were showing the news and it was about India, about Delhi, the city she had just left. The reporter, Shrikanth, was talking about the blasts in Delhi and public's indifference to the same. Anjali, too, was indifferent...but then, she was not from Delhi anyway and neither did she know anyone who lived in Delhi.

A couple next to her was looking at the news, too. They were Indian like Anjali, probably on vacation or their honeymoon, for all Anjali cared. As they started discussing the news item and noticing Anjali, they began trying to include her in the coffee table conversation which Anjali studiously avoided. She did not have to try too hard and as Arzan points out, she just needed to avoid eye contact which Indians tend to do anyways when they meet each other outside the country.

She could not succeed however for Anjali was, by nature, quite polite and it was just not possible to avoid the couple who, like Cynical Nerd, kept talking about how this sort of an event should wake up the media elite and lead to a change in attitude about handling terror amongst the Indian intelligentsia. Karan was, in fact, an officer in the Indian Army and Anamika, his wife, had just joined the Tatas as a manager whose duty included overseeing the latest low cost car that Tata is going to come up with.

Like Anjali, Anamika seemed relieved when Karan changed the topic of conversation from a bleeding Delhi to her company, Tata and how, as Parsi Khabar says, they were one of the few companies deemed to take India to the next stage where modernity and concern for things will go hand in hand instead of the situation today where in the never ending quest for money, people have become indifferent to the very meaning of life.

But, Anjali had thought at that time, like Sunil did, what was the point of being good, of thinking more than one is strictly required to. She always believed that it is not going to be that her thoughts or actions would be capable of changing anything or making any difference to the ocean of mismanagement and lack of logic that the news item and others like it spoke of.

And then, of course, there were so many different kinds of terror that Anjali had already seen in her past life. The most horrific of them to Anjali was the quasi-fanatic religious fervor, which has always been a part of India but as Sooraj would have said, which does not probably pose as much danger to the fabric of India and its democracy as some might think.

Anjali had long since buried herself in her own little alcove, coding away in her claustrophobic cubicle, sweating it out to be miles ahead of others in geekiness. Like Vulturo, she laughed when technology was misunderstood by novices and silently said a prayer when her umpteenth attempt at optimizing her code resulted in a page load time of one second less than the benchmark.

It was not enough, however, and the couple, who had by now taken quite well to Anjali, were making it clear to Anjali in no few words. Right from terrorism to cricket, they were talking about everything under the sun and kept waiting for Anjali's inputs every once in a while. As Karan talked enthusiastically about Dhoni's latest knock, just as Gaurav does, he rated it as the best ODI knock ever..."the best ever?", Anjali thought. She was surprised at the use of superlatives but not unduly so for it had been only one day that she had been away from her colleagues back in India who never ceased to amaze her with their own superlative usage.

Anjali was above these superlatives and she had reasons to be so. She had faced so much in her life that she had stopped believing in superlatives...the negatives were there as much as were the positives and whenever someone talked about the best and the worst, she knew that there were higher degress still waiting for her. It was always like this for Anjali, like the wedding Ravi talks about, a riot of things unrelated, good and bad, without any logic and yet happening...truly happening.

She has always bounced back, she tries to make Anamika understand, and so would Delhi and the people affected by the news they had been discussing. Karan does not agree and talks about what Dhiraj says about the things never having affected Delhi at all, and how there is no question of surviving or bouncing back for the junta.

Anjali nods her head and as if in a daze, says good bye to the couple as she sees her luggage arrive after an atypical delay of nearly an hour. As she walked out of the airport building, Karan's enthusiasm and Anamika's quiet confidence kept her company as she looked at the back of the head of the taxi driver. Remembering Karan talk about Saurav with as much passion as Arnab, or thinking about Anamika rather passionately discussing the merits of coffee and in Govar's words, of outlets like Cafe Coffee Day. 

The Epilogue

Trying to make herself comfortable against the hard chair of the subway train, Anjali closed her eyes as she realized that she was close the worst part of her memories, the part when she reached home and swtiched her TV set on. The first thing she watched on TV after the news item at the airport was another news item and this time, like once much earlier, she was not indifferent. It was about a couple who got mugged and killed on the street, a couple that Anjali had just left behind, hale and hearty.

It was as if history was repeating herself. It was as if she was Munni once again, watching from the corner of the dingy room that her own Postman Unlce had locked her in before selling her off at the Meena Bazaar (which is another story, of course). Once again, she was watching her brother Pappu being fed the lies about her being lost in the Mela at The Truth Laid Bear's UberCarnival.

She could not even cry out to Pappu that she was being held against her will by Postman Uncle for she did not know about it herself. It was a game to her, as was the hour she had passed with Karan and Anamika at the airport, never realizing on either time that a lifetime of hatred, filth, and despondency awaited her on both occasions...but Anjali remained hopeful, of the next time, of the next tidal change in her life, the next Mela when she will meet Pappu and perhaps pray together for the souls of Karan and Anamika.

Blog Mela Update

Blog Mela delayed due to unavoidable circumstances.

The Mela will be up by the night of the 7th of November India Time. Sorry for inconvenience, if any.

Something out of the way

In the normal course of events (even those related to summer placements) at IIMK, I would not have written such a post but the occasion is a little out of the way and deserves more than just the mere thought and a silent word or two. I have never really been able to appreciate the secrecy associated with the placements activities on campus (any campus, not just IIM Kozhikode) and have been one of the most ardent (though not as much vocal) critic of the entire exclusivity associated with the placement process. So when I get mails from the placements committee (directed to the entire batch, of course) that I should not put on a yahoo status message, or a blog post about placements till the official report is out, I say "what the heck! Who was going to put status messages and blog posts on the freaking placements anyways". But I was wrong and gladly enough, they (the placements committee, that is) proved me wrong!

Not that I don't understand the reason for restricting such a move or that I don't know that shouting one's mouth off even before something has been achieved has never been a good idea and in the extremely competitive arena of B-school placements, where students try every trick in the book to be one up on the others, it doesn't make any sense at all. However, all that holding fort, I am still compelled to write this post...not because I am allowed to do so now or because as a student of IIMK, it is my duty to do so now but because this is something I want to write about. This is because I am really happy about the professionalism showed by the people involved and the efficacy of the result generated.

All right, so there has been something seen by the campus this season that has never happened earlier. A batch of 160 people placed for summer internships in hardly five days is as amazing a news item that anyone associated with an Indian B-school would have ever heard of. What makes the entire thing more special, however, is the fact that it is always easy to place the first 50% of the class in perhaps even one day but what takes the toll is to put through the last person. I can say that because I know how difficult it had been for some people last year in so many campuses (including the very best in the country).

To know that IIMK has placed even the last guy/girl within such a short span is an awesome feeling even though I know that it might be an overkill to say that I am extremely proud of what IIMK has achieved and therefore, saying that it is only IIMK that has such talent would certainly be a blasphemy. I know that the economy is booming and that this year, the top 50% of the batch at any B-school worth its salt would be placed on the first day itself. I also know, at the same time, that not many of them would have had people in the placements committee devoted so much and working so hard to ensure that the last guy is placed for summers in the first five days of the process having started. Even if it is just for that, I am proud of the achievement (even though I may be guilty of using a cliche here).

To read the mails of juniors congratulating and thanking the placecom and the senior batch for the help and the seniors, in turn, congratulating them for the great batch they have been in achieving such laurels, is, for lack of a better word, heartening. What this brings forward in a more subtle manner, however, is the way in which the placements committee and the placements process at IIMK has contributed to the family feeling back in campus. I know that a lot of people might rubbish this idea as sentimental tomfoolery, but then they are welcome to their own opinions and have not been invited anyways (not by me, at least) to read this blog and tear their hair out in frustration (if at all, they don't have anything better to do).

Oh by the by, if you want to know more about what happened at IIMK's Summer Placements 2006, just click here.

Aala re aala, Blog Mela aala re

[image courtesy Nilesh]

Important Update: Due to some confusion about the Mela schedule, the Blog Mela for this week will not be hosted at Mode C. Instead, it shall be hosted at Neelakantan's and the nomination call is already out. The Mela shall return, however, to Mode C next week, that is, after the 3rd of November. Necessary changes in the rules have been made down below. Please do check the same and sorry for the inconvenience, if any.

All right babies and babas, ladies and ladaas, it is time for the second Bharateeya Blog Mela at Mode C. For those who do not know what Blog Mela is, feast your eyes on the following links:

Blog Mela Schedule
October 15th Blog Mela at Indiagenie's
October 6th Blog Mela at Trivial Matters'
September 26th Blog Mela at Dynamic Ram's

For those who had been waiting for Blog Melas but were unable to find any editions, which were perhaps lost somewhere in the middle of the IIPM controversy that plagued the Indian blogosphere for the last few weeks, here we are, back again to regale you with the best of desi blogs, written in desi style, by desi (or non-desi) bloggers.

Right, so now that you know what BBM stands for, let me roll the red carpet for you and your nominations. The Mela will be hosted at Mode C on the weekend following November 3 and therefore, the nominations should reach me by midnight, November 3 Indian Standard Time (not stretchable, puhleaaaaaaaaze). As we wannabe managers often like to say, there are some ground rules:

• Nominations should be sent either as comments to this post or by email to nutkarsh[at]gmail[dot]com.
• Nominations should reach me latest by midnight, November 3 IST.
• The posts must either be written by Indians or be centered on India.
• The posts must be dated between October 28 and November 3.
• Nominations should be sent as permalink(s) to the individual post(s) being nominated and not as link to the entire blog. In case the permalink feature is not available or not working, the title and date of the post should do.
• Nominations can be self nominations or if you are feeling extraordinarily generous, you can nominate my posts, too (or for that matter, anyone else's)
• While you are nominating, please do take care that the entry is not on the lines of "I woke up, I brushed my teeth, bathed and went to office, worked, came back and slept". Even if it has to be on those lines, there should ideally be something interesting, novel and insightful about the way the person bathes or brushes teeth or works...

Myriad Reflections

Talking to Animesh (my friend working for Infy in the US) last night, I just discovered something I had been feeling for quite some time but had never really understood fully. This does not have anything to do with anything concrete but is more of an abstract reflection on the way we tend to react to things. By we, I mean people belonging to distinct geographies, including, for my own point of reference, Indian sub continent, Europe, and the Americas (primarily the States).

We were discussing the IIPM issue in particular and as he laughed it away like probably any other Indian would, unless he/she is personally involved in the issue, he also told me about how serious the issue would have been in sue-happy US where such things would never have been taken lying down. Living in Europe for the last one month, I started reflecting on what the typical European (or at least, the typical French) would have thought about the entire thing. I don't think that they will be as dispassionate about it all like an average Indian but at the same time, they will not be as active about it as an average American will be. They will discuss the issue to no end but in terms of actually doing something about it, they will be far behind their American counterparts.

This, in fact, is also visible in other activities and attributes of the French and the Europeans, at large, who do like to keep their distance from controversy but all the same, do not mind talking quite passionately about the same. Even in the classes, there is hardly any intiative in terms of class participation from the French students (or most of other Europeans) but once the topic is started off (mostly by Indians since other Asians, seem to be, if it is possible, even more shy) and there is a possibility of any sort of argument, they do jump in with enthusiasm.

So while we Indians, owing mostly to our growing proximity to and acceptance of the American way of life have become increasingly confident but cynical at the same time, the Europeans are left with the cynicism alone and the rest of the Asians who do not belong to the Indian sub continent seem to be too unsure of themselves to give voice to their cynicism. One of the main reasons, perhaps, is that they have not really ratified the American thinking in such a big way as India has.

As for the Americans, they still rule the roost but are increasingly getting too bored with the proceedings to offer any voice to their own critical comments. It is not the confidence that they seem to lack but it has more to do with the boredom (due to lack of sufficient competition, perhaps) that is making them do what the rabbit did before the tortoise took over in the race. Amen to India being that tortoise but as has been pointed out recently, we need to take care of another competitor called China, but more on that some other time...

In other news, some great stuff has been happening on campus as the PPOs have started crystallising into job positions and salaries, and all of the ones that have come up so far, have been amazing, to say the least. More information, of course, shall be available once the placement committee receives more updates (which are coming in pretty fast and are expected to keep raining down for quite some time) and makes them public.

Freedom, responsibility, and the IIPM controversy: My take

The controversy on the mention (expose?) on IIPM in the JAM Mag and subsequent discussions on the Indian blogosphere is the news of the moment with probably more than a fair share of limelight being given to the institute and its supporters and detractors alike. In my opinion (you can not sue me for libel/slander now, can you...well, I don't really care even if you can), the matter may not be as simple and straight forward as it looks. I certainly do not support (in fact, I strongly oppose) what has been done unto the chief protagonists of the story (primarily Rashmi and Gaurav) but the overtly simplistic assumption that all this speaks badly of a particular institute or all of its students is actually taking the matter a little too far.

Perhaps I am getting a little ahead of the story without giving the background. So for all those who are unaware of what has been happening, refer this blog entry for details on the entire episode. By now, you probably know what Rashmi Bansal and her JAM Mag team wrote about IIPM, and how Gaurav Sabnis, an IIM graduate and ex-IBM employee journeyed from linking to Rashmi's blog on the topic to getting a ridiculous legal notice, supposedly from IIPM to finally resigning from IBM in a gutsy and much admired move that reflects his character and strength of conviction.

If you have also gone to the trouble of reading the hundred odd comments on this entry at Rashmi's blog, you also know about the foul language that is being used by some bloggers who have mushroomed in recent past and have been writing good things about IIPM and some really rotten stuff about those who dare to think beyond the IIPM (oops, please excuse the cliche!).

To complete the picture, you would also have gone through the posts (at least, some of them...it is not possible to read through all those who support Rashmi and Gaurav on the blogosphere...btw, I particularly liked one blogger's humorous take on the issue). All the same, you must have read what the supporters of IIPM (those who appear a bit more sane and have not reverted to street talk) have to say about the thing in some of the comments on Rashmi's post. Of course, some people think that IIPM is justified in doing what it does, despite the expose on JAM Mag and thus, there is no moral ground for either the supporters or detractors of IIPM.

So much for what has been happening and it is high time I gave my take on my blog, for whatever it is worth (especially in terms of the mind boggling libel/slander lawsuit amounts)

• First things first, I am proud of my institute, IIM Kozhikode, and believe that the IIMs have given a lot to India and Indians over the ages, and they shall continue to do so for a long time to come.
• I absolutely detest the people who have been commenting on Rashmi's blog, allegedly trying to defend IIPM by personally attacking Rashmi and in the process, actually destroying whatever reputation IIPM has.
• More than them, I detest those who called up IBM, claiming to be from IIPM (which, though not proved, has been assumed to be true because of no one from IIPM refuting the same), and threatened to burn laptops and blah, due to which Gaurav was put in such a difficult situation.
• I really admire Gaurav for what he has done to uphold what he thinks is right and thus, not fall in his own eyes. I know that I have failed myself in a similar situation once and I know just how difficult it is to not fail in standing up to what one preaches and I also know how degrading this failure is.
• I also admire the business (perhaps I have chosen the wrong word but nothing more fitting comes to the mind right now) sense of Rashmi in leaving the comments on her blog open and visible to all and in the process, having the last laugh by professionally letting the impossibly naive commentors defeat their own purpose and die their own death.
• Right from the moment it appeared in JAM Mag and on Rashmi's blog, I have never really agreed to the nature of expose on IIPM carried out by JAM Mag in its entirety primarily because it seems that although there had been efforts (that seemed to have ended in no results) to contact the IIPM administration for clarifications/details, they have not been full-hearted and sufficient journalistic licence has been taken to write rather too assuredly (and bitingly) of something that may have been ascertained in a better manner.
• I am a little wary about the high moral ground taken by the IIM junta and/or most of the Indi bloggers in criticizing IIPM (or Amity or any other non IIM B-school, for that matter) because ultimately, it ends up in the same My-school-best or My-community-most sensible logic that is at the bottom of this entire episode. As far as my understanding goes, while solidarity is appreciable at such a juncture, bloated placement figures or absurd facts and figures are not stigmas attached to merely non-IIM business schools.
• At the same time, I fully understand and support their contention that it is no longer about the IIM vs IIPM thing or about the JAM Mag expose either, but it is about the basic right of expression and its blatant suppression through means as pathetically low and ridiculous as personal attacks to as dangerous as apparent use of money clout to force decisions.
• IIPM is certainly not all that it says it is but that does not mean that it has not played its role, whatever little it has been, in the Indian education sector. There may be reasons for the full page ads or the tall claims, not more than a few of them sensible I admit, but rubbishing the very existence of the institute or its students is taking it a little too far.
• Any personal attack on Arindam Chaudhuri is akin to what the blogosphere is up against at this moment. None of what has taken place so far can be reasonably proved without doubt to have been guided directly or indirectly by Mr. Chaudhuri and the fact that he may not have a degree from some big place does not take anything away from his success as a best selling author or a name known in management society (so what if his self-promotions are too commercial for our tastes)

Although this issue started with the IIPM and might do more harm to the institute's reputation than some of the practitioners of low standard antics would have dreamed of, some implications are going to be even larger. With the fourth estate having been relatively mute amidst the show of strength by bloggers who have come out in the open against the traditional press, accusing them to be under monetary and business considerations other than and contrary to honest reporting, things can only move in one direction for blogs and bloggers from here. Indian blog world seems to be ready to see an awakening of sorts and if I am not wrong, it shall do so sooner, rather than later.

I am alive...still

I have been meaning to write something on Mode C for long but fortunately or unfortunately, things out here in Paris have taken such a hectic pace that it has become increasingly tough to just keep abreast of the proceedings, forget writing about them at two places (the other blog is in deed alive, and doing well, thank you). However, Mode C and its readers (if they still come back to check, even if it is once in a blue moon) do deserve more than the neglect I have been able to offer so far.

Life in Paris has been an amazing journey so far with varied co-passengers and their different mannerisms, combined with the vagaries of the journey itself, have been making the journey as interesting as I could have hoped it to be. It has been nearly three weeks since I came to this Wonder Land and like Alice, I am still lost in the wonders that this place keeps offering day after day, hour after hour.

The typical French haughtiness is there aplenty, but so is a completely contrasting love for life and living it to the fullest. The French love to talk, not so much about themselves, as the introductory seminar at ESCP about French culture explained to us, but about things pertaining to the common knowledge and discussion. In fact, the only other thing that they do with probably more passion is kiss. They kiss everywhere...on trains, on streets, on railway stations, inside museums, in gardens, in bookshops and libraries, you name the place and you have people kissing there as if there is going to be no tomorrow.

The party scene is, as expected, outstanding. Though I missed out on the parties last week despite having a problem of plenty in terms of company, I made amends this week and after the fantastic Erasmus party yesterday, next in line are the party today at Cite Universitaire (the group of houses of international students from different countries, including the House of India where we are staying) and of course, the grand party at ESCP tomorrow that is supposed to be the big Daddy of them all.

In other news, studies are cruising along pretty well and after a week of rather insipid lectures, things have started heating up and the attack is slowly and surely getting targetted at the fundamentals, which we Indians are finding out to our discomfort, remains our biggest drawback despite the bags of gas we are capable of producing anywhere and anytime.

Even IIMK is seeing a lot of activity taking place. The placement season for juniors as well as the laterals are around the corner and the campus would surely be witness to old books being dug out and heads buried deep into them hoping to get the fundas right, in time for the impression they need to present once the opportunities come calling. I hope and wish that all my batchmates, and especially my close friends back at campus, have a great placement season and grab some really handsome deals.

I just had a great news from one of my juniors from BHU I had been talking to, a couple of days back. Amitanshu, the poor guy had been looking for a job after doing his MBA from BHU with an HR specialisation. He sounded so worried as he asked me about the different opportunities that I could see for him. And what do I hear today? That he has not only landed a job in one of the better HR consultancies in Bangalore, but is also set to be engaged soon, to another junior from BHU. I do love happy endings!

The French Diaries begin

In latest news, I am in Paris right now and enjoying every moment of it. I have started a new blog to record the trip through text and visuals but the blog is not going public yet (I am not pretty sure why but that's the way it is).

In case you want to read the French diaries of mine (for whatever reasons), just drop me a mail and if I think you are good enough to read my would be best selling travelogue during its formative years, I might just make your day and send you the link to my new blog.

This space would not die, but. There are, first of all, some back posts that I have on my laptop and which I have not been able to post for some reason or the other. So these posts will find their pride of place pretty soon on Mode C and even in the future three months while I am in Europe, I will continue to write stuff not related to the European tour (the existing of which, there is very remote a chance of).

Little updates from the little birdie

So it is about time I update my blog readers (I have ceased to wonder about the reasons for their existence apart from the ikka dukka ones I know of :-)) about what is happening in my life apart from the cribs and the rants and the sobs and the frowns. So here goes, something fresh from my garden, for all those who care to have a whiff.

The end terms for Term 4 at IIM Kozhikode are under way and I am about half way through my papers. Although I have come to (come to, because I never intended to but somehow ended in) taking the maximum number of allowed subjects, the exams are not too much of a bother. With most of the papers in the marketing area being theoretical and expandable (in other words, global), things are pretty smooth and expected to be so till I leave Calicut on a three day train journey to home...and this time, I shall be gone for quite some time. 

In other news, I am all set to go to Paris in about a fortnight from now and I must say that as the days pass, I am getting more and more excited about the trip. Having grown up for the last decade on a diet of mostly Europe-centric books (right from the Five Findouters to Sherlock Holmes, et al), there has always been that feeling of awe for the region in me. Honestly speaking, anything faaren would have done just as well for a first timer (yes, I have never been abroad and for the records, this will be only my second flight over, the first international one, of course) like me but Europe simply takes the cake.

As if Europe was not enough, I start off (and in fact, even though I have all my plans for the Euro trip, I am actually supposed to be staying the entire three months) in Paris, the city that has been mentioned so many times by so many connoisseurs of arts as the best and the finest. If ever there were a capital of romance and romantics in the world, Paris would be the top contender for the position. Since I consider myself to be somewhat of a romantic, as well, I am sure that providence has been playing its role in putting me on to Paris.

The real (all right, official...all of you are such hecklers) purpose of the trip, of course, is the international student exchange of IIMK with ESCP-EAP, Paris and I am supposed to study (in caps??) one whole term of my management education out there. The subjects I have chosen there look pretty interesting as of now and if the teachers and course structure out there are even half as good as what I have set my expectations on, life should be fun.

Talking of courses, did I ever mention the courses I have been taking this term here at IIMK and the ones I am supposed to be taking at Paris? I suppose not, so for the record and to store the data for quite some time in the future (actually I really don't know why I am listing down the subjects but just felt like it), my Term 4 courses include:

Finance Courses
1. Fixed Income Securities
2. Management of Banking and Financial Services
3. Portfolio Management

Marketing Courses
1. Sales and Distribution Channel Management
2. Advertising and Sales Promotions
3. Retail and Franchising

Systems/Consulting Courses
1. Strategy Management (the only compulsory course)
2. Enterprise Resource Computing

Yeah, right! Quite a big fill, I know. But before you apply your stereotype and term me a nerd, here go the next term courses and you might just change your opinion or at least, confuse myself (how I love confusing people :D)

Finance Courses
1. Capital Markets and Financial Engineering
2. International Finance
3. Financial Intermediaries

Marketing Courses
1. Consumer Behavior
2. Marketing Communication

So there, with three day weekends and a lot of free time in the midst of the courses, I (and by now, even you) know what I am going to do in Paris. Europe, here I come!

Not the boy next door

But you are the Grand fatherly voice of reason, they will listen to you. You just have to say it once.

What...fun event and take him along...umm, no yaar, not him. Somebody else who is more lively perhaps!

May be you just don't know when to have fun and when to be serious, and are taking even the fun instances seriously.

It is the songs that you listen to, all of them from a world that is past.

Look who's flirting, buddhe pe jawaani chaayi hai

Aap chal rahe hain...aap ke liye to yahi theek hai...aap kya karenge in sab cheezon ka...aap, aap, aap

All right, I am jaded, old, and without any spirits. I don't know how to be fun for myself or for others. I am the Big Daddy, the Grand Father who everybody looks up to but nobody looks at, as an equal with the same vulnerabilities and wishes as any other guy. All right, I am not the boy next door...the uncle next door, perhaps?

A clear sky, at last!

The clouds seem to be lifting, slowly but surely. After one week of uncertainty, Nani's condition is improving and the blood sugar level has finally come down from an extremely high number of 500+ to a more manageable 150+. Thank God for his mercies.

Now that I have the luxury to think clearly, Mode C will hopefully be back to more frequent and regular posts, with two of the immediately pending posts being the one on newly elected Backwaters Committee members and the other on the immensely enjoyable Freshers party...but all this and more later. 

Let us do something different this midnight hour

Long years ago, we made a tryst with destiny and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially.

Fifty eight years ago, as Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru spoke these golden words, and declared India independent at the stroke of the midnight hour, he would not have even imagined that the very national borders that were sacred to him and his contemporaries will start to lose meaning only half a century later. But that is precisely what is happening and precisely what should be happening.

As I stood in the administrative block grounds staring proudly at the Tricolor and listening to Rohit speak of the wars we still need to fight before becoming truly independent, I realized that perhaps there is another basic thing that we are all ignoring in the blinding light of passion and nationalism that a National Festival like the Independence Day fills us with. Perhaps we choose to conveniently ignore on such occasions that it is no longer about your country and my country, it is no longer about your progress or our progress...it is our world, our progress now.

Perhaps it is not realistic to talk about the principles of Vasudhaev Kutumbakam right now, with the super power in US rearing its ugly head every now and then to dominate and crush those constrained by geographies that are not as powerful. Perhaps it does not make sense to talk about boundarylessness with wars being fought on the slightest of pretexts and tensions simmering between borders, including our own. Perhaps it is not wise to imagine a world where humans, as a specie, will rise together and pursue their collective dreams, fight their common demons.

However, this is what the reality is going to be like, pretty soon. With the enemies that we are fighting against making their real faces visible, the realization is slowly creeping in that Darwin's theory of survival of the fittest is not as simple as fighting against your fellow beings if you need to produce your offspring and ensure its and your survival. We have to fight much more...illiteracy, poverty, ignorance, sickness, diseases, terrorism, immorality, crime, and much more if we are to survive. There is little time on our hands with the threats of an energy-less, resource-constrained, hard-winged religious, communal, and regional, nuclear anarchy looming right ahead.

The only way we can fight all this, as most of us have already come to accept, and others will do in the years to come if Darwin's evolution theory is to hold any water, is to stop giving so much importance to national borders and work towards fighting these evils plaguing our future collectively. We need to build upon our dreams and not live in the past by fighting over strips of land, drops of oceans, and breathfuls of air.

We do appreciate what the freedom fighters did for us at that stroke of midnight hour when the whole world slept and India awoke to light and freedom. We do realize the contribution they made by getting us the right to be free but all the same, the time has come to not just redeem but redefine and then redeem the pledge that they made...to let the whole world awake to light and freedom together... let none sleep this midnight, let all get up, arise, fight and be counted.

Hmmm...

One of my friends writes,

Another problem with me, I want people to reciprocate things. And I move 5 steps backwards when some one doesnt. So be it, I am happy this way. If I take the first 2 steps, saamne wale ko bhi to mujhe kuch bhaav dena chahiye. And if they are caught in their own lives and dont feel I can do anything for them, why should I intrude ?

I agree, absolutely.

Water water everywhere and quite a lot to drink

Hi!
Oh, hello!
Are you from here?
Well no, not exactly. What about you?
I am from the US. We are here for a short visit to some folks.
Oh ok...I am from a nearby place, doing my MBA there.
Cool! Is this ride too scary?
Oh no, not at all. It is just that when it gets to the top and stops, hanging you upside down in mid air, there might be, you know, just a bit of a problem.

Oooh, it is going to be fun, all right!

This is not too bad.
umm...humm..yeaah?
Hellooo (waving to a bunch of people on the other slide)
Hee Hee (wondering why those people look familiar)
Wow, hey are they stopping?
Are they? Wow!

The Space Gun at Veega Land was worth all the rides I have ever had in any other amusement park anywhere else and wonderfully, that was not all that there was to it. What was it all about, you say...well, it was nothing much, not more than a group of 17 people, one dts mini bus, one driver and cleaner who presumed anything coming from us to be understood only through signs (even though the person speaking might be a Mallu), one movie and the beginning of another, 10 bottles of beer, raiding of a Pizza Hut outlet, DVDs, excellent breakfast and some heart warming hospitality, water, water and more water.

Starting off with a plan to go sight-seeing in the hills of Wayanad and changed later to a trip to this amusement park in Cochin (it helped that one of the trip planners was from Cochin), this one turned out to be one of the most well-spent tours over the last year or so that I have been here at IIMK. We started off at 4 in the morning and by the time we were through with catching some sleep and the movie "The fast and the furious", we were almost about to reach Cochin.

An excellent breakfast of idli, wada, halwa, chole, and excellent tea at Sandeep Gopal's house was mixed with Bunty's excellent rapport with Sandeep's mother (given her soft spot for Bengal). We reached Veega Land by 11 and honestly speaking, there was nothing happening till then to give any indication of what was about to come.

We started off with dashing cars and all my visits to Appu Ghar and Essel World came back in a flash as each of the group wowed to dash the other cars off the floor. As if dashing the cars around was not enough, we went on to spinning cars and after that came the much discussed by now Space Gun in which I had the fright of my lifetime. I couldn't even place the people waving to me till the last time when I was hanging upside down. It was only then that I realized that they were part of my group and here was this girl from the US, waving to them as if there was no tomorrow while I was hanging tight to my buckle.

The rollercoaster and horror cave were interesting, too (the one boob skeleton witch was particularly hilarious and so was the message in Malayalam telling us that the power had gone off...pray how did they plan to scare non Mallus?) but the best part of the day was still to come and how it did come!

The water rides opened with a bang. After the usual slide, we saw something different and went right ahead to try it. It was a rapid river flowing through five channels with ropes that you had to hang on to if you want your life belt to drag you down the rapid. Oh, what fun! Getting toppled over and toppling people over had never been this interesting.

The Water Rugby (we plan to patent this game and offer it to the Olympic Committee) was up next and the wave pool made sure that we had more than our heart full. As the weaker team (with Sam and Ravi being in the other team) scored 10-6 over the more heavy weight team, it was just the right omen for the waves to come calling. Having been in Chennai for two years, waves were not new to me but being able to go to the source of the waves, knowing fully well that I won't drown was another experience altogether.

Some more rapids and water slides and we were as exhausted as anything and what better to relax us than piercing streams of water. This platform had jets from all sides trying to go right through you while the bucket at the top kept toppling every few moments, pouring sheets of water on those below.

The pizza was something I had been looking forward to for quite some time and so were the DVDs (although I was unfortunate in not being able to get more of Amitabh collections). Some shopping later, we were ready to go into deep slumber, aided for some by the beer bottles and for others by the humming audio of The Bourne Identity which ended even before it started.


 

The nation is rocking to it, are you?

I have been meaning to write this post for a long long time but unfortunately, I had not been able to obtain a proper image to give this topic the feel that it deserves. Now that I undoubtedly have a deserving image, I must say what I have been wanting to, ever since I watched Bunty aur Babli. Apart from the movie itself which was, at least to me, value for money (in the manager's lingo) and fulltoo timepass (in the tapori's lingo), the sizzling appearance of Aishwarya Rai and a one over another performance by the Bachchans was something completely else.

"Kajraare Kajraare mere kaare kaare naina" goes Aishwarya Rai in a costume that suits the character and the song to the tee. Unusual in a modern movie and yet, all the more enjoyable for the reason, the song pictures a bar dancer in the garb of a courtesan singing an old timers' qawwali. Although I admit that Aishwarya Rai would not have been on my mind when I imagined the set up for the first time but then again, she has done a fantastic job of looking suitably bar dancer-ish and raising her eyebrows and biting her lips ever so theatrically to give an original (though not very natural) feel to the song.

The point at which the song begins is a classic case of perfect placement in itself. As the cop and the thief sit gulping one drink after the other (with some of the drinks equivalent to tickets to the moon), the belle starts off with a couplet and follows it up with a tantalizing display of skin, all for the eyes of the senior (with a capital S, perhaps) member of the cop-thief gang. As she sways in her back-less choli and lehenga to the winsome tune, the junior B is shown making an absolute ass of himself while the senior seems to be unaffected.

Till this instant, the song is like just another song, but for Aishwarya's antics that have just started to make themselves felt. As soon as the Big B makes an entry, however, things change dramatically. Abhishek's dumb act becomes all the more effective and Aishwarya's lip biting even more pronounced as Amitabh Bachchan jumps on to the dance floor with his own brand of hip shaking and hands stretching. Combine that with the UP and Bihar feel of the lyrics and the singing style and you get Bachchan Sr. on his home turf and on his home turf, the legend does not disappoint at all.

As the song picks up steam and the two Bachchans come into their element, even the skin show of Aishwarya seems to move to the background and all that the viewer is focused at is the fast pace of the song, the expressions of the three actors and of course, the relaxed at times and yet pacy at others rendition that has more modulations than I have seen in any other recent song. In fact, by the time the end comes and the song reaches its crescendo, the feeling is almost surreal and any hopes of catching the meaning behind the song (if at all there were any) are utterly and completely lost.

It has been a long time now since the song hit the TV screens but its popularity does not seem to subside any more than it did in the initial few days. Of course, those who did not like the song did not like it right from the word go and the day one but those who did, still swear by it as one of the best songs to have hit Hindi Cinema in recent times (whether it be in terms of music or picturisation). I know of at least one place where the song has almost become an anthem and that is Room no. 8 of G Hostel of an institute called IIM, at a place called Kozhikode.

As the still continuing promos on some channels say, the nation is truly rocking to it.

Just a little something

My mood swings have stopped bothering me ever since I realized that I am perpetually in a bad mood.

For all those who have nothing better to do, do browse through Abhinav's take on Calvin and Hobbes in The Fight Club.

Picture this: a hyper, self-absorbed child initially concocts an imaginary friend as the ideal playmate, to whom more realistic qualities soon become attributed. This phantasm becomes a completely separate personality, with his own likes, dislikes, and temperament—and the imaginer and the imagined clash and argue constantly, though remaining fast friends. This pattern continues to the point where the child begins to perceive what was originally mere fantasy to be reality.

Just as Calvin has an imaginary jungle-animal friend named Hobbes, whom everyone else believes to be nothing but a stuffed toy, "Jack" in Fight Club has an imaginary cool-guy friend named Tyler, whom no one but Jack can see.

This one is a must read for all those who swear on Tyler or Calvin but I won't say any more...go right ahead and read it for yourself.

Deciphering...continued

Carrying on from where I left last time, I will try to give a logical conclusion to the discussion (for whatever it is worth) that I started in the last post. I was talking about the fair game that Prof. Uday Damodaran had introduced us to and about our willingness to play the game. However, as I had tried to show in the last post, the actual payoff from the game was an uncertain Re. 1 which was to be won by giving in a certain Re. 1, which we were to understand, was the job of a gambler and not that of an investor or even a speculator.

Going forward, if we consider the utility that the player of the fair game has for the amount that he/she is going to put in to the game and the utility that he/she has for what he/she is going to get out of the game, we might just have a better idea of the way things stand. Let us say that the utility is represented by the alphabet 'U'. Therefore, the utility of the 1 Re. spent in playing the game is U(1). Utility of the Rs. 2 won if a head turns up is U(2) and the utility of 0 that is the return from the game if tail turns up is U(0).

Therefore, for an intelligent and rational investor who prefers a certain Re. 1 over an uncertain Re. 1

U(1) > 1/2 * U(2) + 1/2 * U(0)
[1/2 because that is the probability of either of the two utilities to be obtained by the player]

Multiplying the above inequality by 2 on both sides,
2*U(1) > U(2) + U(0)
or, U(1) - U(0) > U(2) - U(1)

This, as Dr. Damodaran explained, is nothing but the principle of Diminishing Marginal Utility. As we can see, the utility of going up from 0 to 1 is higher than that of going up from 1 to 2. This is the reason why most of the investor behavior in the financial markets follows a utility function that has a negative slope (assuming that there is no negative utility of wealth, which might not be true in the case of goods in the microeconomic sense where for example, eating more of say, fruits will start giving negative utility after a certain number has already been consumed).

To put it into more practical terms, the investor's risk taking behavior or tendency goes on decreasing as the amount of money involved starts increasing which is what you would expect, won't you?

Can you decipher this?

One of the courses this term that I have been really enjoying is Prof. Uday Damodaran's Portfolio Management. A change from the somewhat theatrical to a definitely more structured course being one important parameter that has grabbed our attention, there are several other reasons why there is almost full attendance in his classes, even if they are held at 7 in the morning.

Anyways, talking about the teaching methodology of Dr. Damodaran was not the purpose of writing this post. Ever since the last class, when we played the game that is popularly called St. Petersburg Paradox and subsequently analyzed it, I have been wondering if the explanation was so simple that even a lay person with absolutely no idea about finance or economics can understand the same. I will try to enumerate what took place in the class room and leave it for the readers of this blog to decide if they can decipher what I am talking about.

The game went like this: the class was divided into groups of six with one person in each group acting as the gaming house and the other five enacting the roles of players. There were five rounds in total with each round starting with closed bids by the players being submitted to the gaming house. The gaming house, based on the received bids, chose the player it wants to play with. Ideally, the player chosen should be the one with the highest bid but in case of ties, it depends on the gaming house's discretion. Irrespective of whether a player's bid has been accepted or not, he/she has to forfeit the amount that he/she has bid on the round to the gaming house.

Once the player is chosen, the game begins. The game involves tossing a coin till a head comes up. The number of times that the coin has to be tossed before the head turns up decides the payoff for the player who gets 2 raised to the power n where n is the number of tosses before a head appears. So the minimum that a player will get out of this game is 1 and the maximum can be infinity. Similar methodology is followed for the other four rounds.

Once the game was over, an average was taken of the amount that the players had bid for (including successful and unsuccessful bids) and for our class, it turned out to be nearly 7. Next up, Dr. Damodaran presented another game which is popularly known as the fair game. In this game, the player gives 1 Re. to play and a coin is tossed. If the coin turns head, the player gets Rs.2 and he/she gets 0 if it turns tail. When asked about how many of us would play this game, the majority said they will.

This, Dr. Damodaran said, disproved the basic assumption of finance and economics that we had been trying to understand for the past sessions of the course. The probability that head occurs is 0.5 and that of tail appearing is also 0.5. The expected payoff from the game, therefore, would be 0.5*2 + 0.5*0 (that is, a summation of probability of event multiplied by payoff from the event) which turns out to be 1. Thus, a person playing this game would be foregoing a certain 1 Re. for an uncertain 1 Re. (return from the game is only an expected payoff, remember but the money that the player puts into the game is a certain Re. 1). This is certainly not rational investor behavior but something that most people would claim to have when asked about it, primarily because of the positive connotations associated with risk-takers.

However, a similar payoff vs. investment analysis exercise carried out with the St. Petersburg game shows that the reality is quite different. Here, probability of getting head in the first toss (with payoff of 1) is 1/2. Head in the second toss has the probability (1/2) squared and the payoff is 2 raised to the power 1. For the head to appear in third toss, probability is (1/2) to the power 3 and the payoff is 2 to the power 2. Going on in similar fashion, we find that for each event (where event means the number of times that the coin has to be tossed before a head comes up), the product of probability and payoff is 1/2 in each case. Thus, expected payoff from the game would be a summation of 1/2 infinite times, which comes to infinity.

For an infinitely paying game, therefore, the average amount that our class bid was only Rs. 7. And we said we are risk lovers when asked about the fair game...just goes on to show how there is much more to behavioral finance than just asking the basic questions and trusting the investors' answers blindly. If put in a guise, the real picture does come up. There was a further follow up to this discussion, explaining matters in much greater detail but perhaps, I will save that for some other post to avoid an overdose and of course that post will come up given this one makes at least some sense.

To master fear, you have to become fear

Anybody who has had a healthy diet of DC Comics in childhood, adolescence, youth, or even later, would have often wondered about the character called Batman. Unlike the other super heroes, Batman does not have super powers...he can not punch planets like Superman, or throw web lines like Spiderman but despite all these shortcomings (??), his is a name that the underworld of Gotham City trembles at.

How does Batman hold a grip so compelling?

How has Batman been able to innovate enough to compensate for the lack of super powers?

How did the Bat-suit, the Bat-mobile, the Bat-line, and so many other things come up in the first place?

What, in the history of Batman, has made an otherwise luxury-loving millionaire like Bruce Wayne into one of the most dynamic characters that fiction has ever known, the Dark Knight who knows how to use fear to remove fear?

As the bearded and unkempt Bruce Wayne is seen getting up from a nightmare in his prison bed, Batman Begins grabs the viewer's attention right away...what is a millionaire like Bruce Wayne doing in a prison located in some God forsaken corner of the world? As events unfold, we view the journey of Bruce Wayne, the adolescent who wants to avenge his parents' deaths but in the process, gets lost amongst crime and criminals. We are shown how Bruce Wayne becomes a petty thief while roaming around the world in his quest for the unknown and ends up in a prison from where he goes out in search of his life's purpose.

The League of Shadows makes its appearance and Christopher Nolan skillfully uses his action director to give the Batman addicted viewer some non-gadgetry and slick action sequences as Bruce Wayne trains with the mysterious Ducard at Ra's Al Ghul's headquarters to conquer his fear, to find the purpose of his life, to become what the world shall know as Batman.

As Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham City, he knows what he wants to do and starts about it with the ease that only a legacy like the Waynes' can offer. Right from ordering 10,000 masks to avoid suspicion to using shelved defense projects (due to lack of money, primarily) as his comrades-in-arms, the journey from Bruce Wayne to Batman is something that all Batman fans would have loved to watch. The credit should go to the director who, despite trying hard (a little too hard, perhaps) to maintain or even increase the darkness that Batman is known for, has managed to show this transition in a pretty lucid manner.

Christian Bale, of course is no match for the earlier Batmen...he doesn't even come close to Kilmer or Keaton but then again, he seems to just fit in the tale, such is the power of the legend that Batman is, especially for the die-hard fans. It must be said, however, that for people not really into Batman but who went to the movie for its own merits, Bale's shortcomings would have been pretty highlighted. Katie Holmes, popular for all different reasons even before the movie came, looks good but that is all Batman ladies have to do, unless they do something spectacularly villainous or attention grabbing like the Catwoman Michelle or the Poison Ivy Uma.

Particularly impressive, however, turn out to be the two villains with a rather constrained (in terms of Batman villains) performance from Liam Neeson who plays Ducard and an equally mature but more sinister Scarecrow depiction by Cillian Murphy. The villains have always been important parts of Batman movies and right from Jack Nicholson to Jim Carrey to even the beefy Arnold, there have been attempts (if not real executions) at some good performances. Fortunately, the villains of Batman Begins do not fail but unfortunately, they are given too less a scope to show their evil properly.

In fact, by the time the villains become active and as the second half takes over, much of the charm that Batman Begins promises in its first half has already been exhausted and it is back to what Batman movies do best...one action sequence after another, with villains being ambushed in dark corners and the dark knight's gadgets flashing around with gusto. At this point, it will only be fair to mention the support cast in Morgan Freeman (who plays the Q to Batman's Bond), Michael Caine as Alfred, and of course, Gary Oldman (the to-be Commissioner Gordon) who jointly make the second half more interesting than it actually is. And oh! Did I say it yet, Bat Mobile rocks :-)

As the Bat Signal is finally mounted upon the roof of the Police Headquarters, Detective Gordon is shown asking Batman for help on a particular villain who has been troubling Gotham for long and who has, as Gordon says, a flavor for the theatrical, just like Batman himself. Batman flips over the card that Gordon hands to him and the pack of cards' legendary Joker is seen smiling from the criminal's identity card. What a way to join the threads, what a way to complete the story, what a way to build expectations for the next Batman movie...

Of Pappu, Munni, Postman Uncle, and Bharateeya Blog Mela

Pappu and Munni had done it again. Not exactly counted amongst ideal children, the brother-sister duo was living up to their reputation even today as they bunked school to go the Mela that had come to their town. Pappu and Munni had never seen a Mela and were very excited at the prospect of seeing if what they had read in their story books about such fairs was actually true. Mummy had given them their pocket money only yesterday and their pockets were full of jingling coins as they made their way towards the crowded street that led to the Mela.  As they were about to enter the huge gates that welcomed them to the Mela, they heard a familiar voice behind them. "Oh no! Postman Uncle had seen them, he will tell all", thought the children.

But Postman Uncle was smiling. He came to where Pappu and Munni were standing, scooped them up his broad shoulders and after smilingly admonishing them for bunking school, agreed to show them around the Mela and not complain to Mummy or Papa (of course, Munni's tears and Pappu's tantrums had a role to play). "First up", said Postman Uncle, "we will go to see what you children will like the most".


The Bioscope

As Pappu and Munni stood awed at the wonders that the Bioscope-wallah was exposing them to, Postman Uncle started telling them about Indian film industry, including eight things about Bollywood that Amardeep says people might not know about. He introduced the children to India's greatest film makers like Satyajit Ray, their movies like Pather Panchali and Arnab's intensely personal take on the legendary Pather Panchali. Postman Uncle also told them that apart from movies, TV and print media have taken up important roles in the society but as Arzan says, their lop-sided priorities might as well make it impossible to take anything you hear or read at face value.

In answer to Pappu's rather innocuous question about the quality of Indian movies vis-a-vis Hollywood movies, Postman Uncle relayed the views of Sunil who does not see the need to be defensive about Bollywood, not any more. "In fact Pappu,", said Postman Uncle, "if you really want to see the current face of Indian movies, hop on to this music review of The Rising by lazygeek and you will find what works and what doesn't". 


The Book Stall



After spending quite some time with the Bioscope-wallah, Pappu and Munni had moved towards the glisteningly covered and unique smelling books. Flipping through the books, Postman Uncle told Munni about how Vikrum finds it difficult to impart the knowledge of books to Mumbai's slum dwellers for whom, even bandages are luxury. "In the internet era", said Postman Uncle, "books have been replaced by sites like Wikipedia but as Dilip says, their accuracy is subject to change, as well". When Pappu complained of lack of time to read all these books, Postman Uncle silently glared at him and told him about how Amit discusses Attention Deficit Disorder and its impact on journalism and media.

Removing his glasses to wipe them, Postman Uncle seemed to be lost in a different world as he advised the children to be true to their books' learnings and not let things end up in a situation, as described by Patrix when he talks about the Desi Columbine. As Pappu and Munni hung on to his words, Postman Uncle told them to try and develop their culture, language, and literature along with them selves, just as Charu talks about her musings on language.


The Food Pavilion



By now, the children were famished and the inviting sight of The Food Pavilion proved irresistible even for the otherwise sedate Postman Uncle. As they made their way through stalls of delicacies, Postman Uncle warned the children about the ills of roadside food but all the same, pointed them to how Rashmi explains people wanting to stomach street food. Seeing Munni dig into her chaat plate with gay abandon, Postman Uncle started his discourse about etiquettes but in good measure, backed it up with Ram's anecdote about The Bite-ing reality.


The International Exhibition

"How come he is so tall, Postman Uncle and how is that girl so fair?", Pappu shrieked out as soon as Postman Uncle was finished paying for the chaat they just had. "Children, that is the international stall and those people are not Indians." "Who is an Indian, Uncle?", asked Munni. Postman Uncle just smiled in reply and told her about how Surya wonders about what it means to be an Indian and about Nimbupani's mixed feelings about the difference between Indians born in India and those in the US or between Indians and people from the Indian Sub Continent.

When Pappu wanted to know if he could go to visit some other country, Postman Uncle advised him to get a job in the IT industry when he grows up and then, as Sumne points out, everyone will ask him, "Yavaag Foreign Ge??". He continued, "Once you go there, however, you will also have to adjust to their way of doing things, as Nilu did by re-learning how to nod". 

Ever the source of information, Postman Uncle told the children about achievements of Indians abroad. "However", said Postman Uncle, suddenly getting misty eyed, "before foreigners accept India and other South Asian countries in their fold, we need to counter prototypes like the one Aaman calls the blanket assumption that pan-Islamic terrorism is only about the Arab Muslim populace.


India House



The children had now moved on to the India House and were busy impressing Postman Uncle with their knowledge by shouting out names of the Indian leaders they could identify from the hanging posters. Postman Uncle kept smiling at each name the children shouted and from his side, entertained them with Dhiraj's tales of how Wajid Ali Shah turned into Krishna. "It has always been the spirit of Indians that has made them successful despite all odds", said Postman Uncle as he took the recent example of Gaurav's descriptions of the Mumbai downpour, here and here. To drive home his point, Postman Uncle quoted Indiagenie on how the spirit of Mumbai came forward to counter the natural calamity.

Coming back from a conversation with a friend he had met in India House, Postman Uncle found the children engrossed in space station models. Seeing this, he started telling them about how Indian industry was successfully shaping India's future, notwithstanding the debates plaguing them like the one Neelakantan mentions about in arguments over the value added by a call center job. Postman Uncle went on to tell Pappu and Munni about the modern centers of development that these businesses had given India and to illustrate such centers, Postman Uncle used excerpts from Saket's post on his first experiences at Delhi and adjoining Noida.


The Curios Shop



The children hardly listened to the last part about other commercial centers of India as their attention was diverted by the curios shop keeper who kept digging out one item after the other for the children. Laughing his rather jarring laugh, Postman Uncle recalled the experience of the unsuspecting rabbit by the name of Neelakantan who barely managed to escape the jaws of an MLM specialist greyhound. Warning the children against spurious products and services, Postman Uncle gave the example of Bangaloreguy who finally had only split hair and ruined garments to show.

On being shown a really innovative product, Postman Uncle reluctantly agreed to buy it for the children but he told them to be careful with it because he said that at times, there are more issues related to an innovative product than one thinks of right away...something similar to what Aditya talks about as he presents the two sides of the Brain-enhancing-drugs coin.


Going home

Even Postman Uncle had lost track of time, roaming around with the wonder struck kids but as he chanced to look at his watch, he realized that it was time for him to deliver his letter and for the children to go home. Passing his hand over their heads in blessing, Postman Uncle asked Pappu and Munni to promise to be good and further sharpen their knowledge and develop their personalities through appreciating and getting involved in things like the Scouting movement and its present significance as described by Arzan. "It is only when you have a solid foundation, that you will be able to think like Saheli who wishes tools of technology to encourage more cooperatives, working for the benefit of all.

As the children walked back to their home, they kept thinking of the day's wonders but at the same time, Postman Uncle's wise words were not lost, either. Pappu and Munni made a silent promise each to them selves to follow Postman Uncle's advice and have something substantial to show Postman Uncle when they meet him at the next Mela.

For those in the middle

                       

Has Indian English writing really come of age or is it just that we have moved into writing something that they can identify with? They, of course, have to identify with what goes on in the books because it is only then that the Indian writers will be recognized, greeted on the world circuit, given royalties for the never ending sales, approached by movie makers and of course, be known like never before. Perhaps, RK Narayan did not find the need to do all this as he made the readers venture into the streets of Malgudi. Perhaps Anurag Mathur did, as he greets his readers first with the neon lights of New York in "The Inscrutable Americans" and then with the starving millions of India in "Making the Minister smile".

The point is that I am not trying to say that the author is naive enough to portray the customs officials at Delhi's international airport as betel leaf chewing and spitting buffoons or to show that a student who has cleared exams like the GRE or TOEFL to gain admission to a US university is not even able to draft letters in flawless English, forget manage speaking perfectly.

The point is that he has to bring out the satire in this form to make it acceptable to the audience he intends to get his message across to. Here again, the assumption that the books are intended for the Americans or for the Indians would be rather an oversight. The section that would have enjoyed these works the most would probably be the ones in the middle, the pseudo Indians who have their own version of the great American dream and of course, the pseudo Americans who actually know the difference between Taj Mahal and Taj Mahal Hotel.

As Gopal, the protagonist of "The Inscrutable Americans" journeys across his one year stay in America, trying hard to study, avoid beef, and get laid, the readers are entertained, no doubt...but all the more so if they can identify with the characters. The book is really appreciable for those who can understand that most of the things (racial violence, sexual frustrations, loneliness) that the book shows actually happen but at the same time, there are things that have been put there just to bring out the irony, to hit them where it hurts.

In "Making the Minister smile", Chris is shown following a similar pattern, just that his domain is not academic but the thick of Delhi commerce and the intertwining politics. As the author demolishes deeply held ideas about India and Indians by exposing the truths (as he sees them, perhaps) about the fidelity of Indian women, of the lack of food to even feed the middle class, or introduces the readers to the idea of a television and radio in each of the homes in the slums, it might seem that he is trying something novel and to a majority of Americans, it might as well be novel.

However, the people who are going to read his book, as the author must have known, already know these things as facts. The only eyes that the book is going to open for them are the eyes of mirth and laughter for they are the ones who will be able to appreciate the subtlety with which Anurag Mathur has got the satire working for him...how he has touched their heart when he shows things happening that they have always been trying to convince others of.

When read as parts of a series, the two books are interesting readings in deed. Not only do they try a jab at the incomer (the Indian in the first and the American in the second), but the things that are said about the host countries' social fabric are quite intricate as well. Delhi politics, trade unionism, America's racial problems, the supposedly sex starved (or overfed??) American youth...all these things make the books a racy reading for even those who might not really understand what exactly is going on. All the same, the books might help form inaccurate opinions given the amount of popularity that they have already gained and given that all readers (attracted by the popularity) may not be able to appreciate the reasons for introducing satire and logic or their placement in the stories.

Gathering the shreds of life

As Vidyadhar Patwardhan gets back from his morning walk with his friends and starts bellowing "Sumi" as soon as he opens the door, it seems to transmit the viewer to the quintessential middle class home with Dada, Dadi, Papa, Mummy, and the kids.

As Vidya and Aman enter the home and try to work around Sumi to make her accept a Brit as her daughter-in-law and the ease with which she does accept it all...which child or which parent can fail to get a little misty eyed with it?

As Aman, Vidya, Sumi, and Jenny sit in the living room...joking, laughing, Sumi putting oil into Jenny's hair, Vidya and Aman convincing Sumi to let Jenny and Aman go to the party, Jenny trying her broken Hindi and saying "main sabke liye coffee banata hoon"...it is just not possible to stop that smile from coming to the lips.

As the neighborhood mechanic, Ali makes his boisterous appearances in the frame and as Ali gets straightened by Sumi and the way Vidya takes all the credit with Sumi smiling behind his shoulder...could you have asked for more?

But more is what Viruddh delivers and delivers, with panache. Mahesh Manjrekar comes into his element after a long time and after some unforgettable escapades into trash commercial cinema. He delivers the goods this time and no, he does not promise another Saaraansh, nor another Dhoop. Viruddh, as the name indicates, is not just about coming to terms with something bad that happened, but revolting against it, and doing something about it. The protagonists do not lose hope, but keep fighting till the end, and that is the beauty of the movie. Of course, who better for this fight than the pair of Amitabh Bachchan and Sharmila Tagore...seasoned actors who out perform the rest of the cast by miles.

Roughly speaking, Viruddh is the story of how an aged couple's happy family is shaken upside down by events that threaten to tear the very fabric of their home and lives and how the emotional strength of the couple, brings them out of this lurch. Nothing that has not been tried before but this time, they have done it, with a twist. More than the twist or the story in its entirety, it is the subtle moments that pack the kick.

Vidyadhar Patwardhan (Amitabh Bachchan in another of his memorable roles) tries to laugh while sitting on the park bench and is not even able to open his mouth, forget guffaw like those from the laughter club he was a regular member of.

Vidya and Sumi (Sharmila Tagore in an amazingly powerful comeback role) lie on the bed and imagine sounds when there have been none.

They don't embrace each other to share their pain but follow the more natural process of handling their individual sorrows alone...but they know, both of them know what the other is feeling.

Sumi knows that Vidya did not really want the tea he asked for as an excuse to cry alone and Vidya knows Sumi did not run out to prepare tea...touching, most touching.

The helplessness with which Amitabh, as Vidya, performs even the bravest of acts is to be seen to be believed. Doing all this, of course, is the actor we have all seen as the angry young man, an all powerful variation of the human species who does not think twice about his ability to deliver the world of all evil. Watching the same man with sagged shoulders, permanent lines on his face, and a tired gait makes you cry out at the unfair nature of it all. Believe me, Manjrekar could not have got such reaction by the medium of many other actors.

And then, there is Sumi, the mother who is traditional and yet speaks fluent English, one who cries on hearing her son's pining for her hand made sweater and yet is strong enough to support her husband who has started to lose the battle. Sharmila Tagore is as believable as she is graceful and has proved yet again why she is considered to be one of the legends...the difference that she can bring to a character's treatment is what makes Sumi so real.

John Abraham, as the ideal son Aman, does not have much to do but does well in whatever little he is made to put in. He looks serious and well meaning for the most part which is what an ideal son of Vidya and Sumi should have been. Anusha, as the Brit live-in-turned-wife of Aman, could have been much better. Though she does manage the accent pretty well and her attempts at broken Hindi are a treat to hear, they are not as much to watch. A better screen presence would have helped.

Sanjay Dutt, in a dynamic appearance (as the movie credits claim) as Ali, is good and does what he has been kept in the movie for...draw whistles. Last but not the least, Sachin Khedkar, that much under rated actor, is at it again although the role does not offer much scope to him to display his talents. He does manage, pretty well, to show his own frustration and inability.

Viruddh is not as much a take on the system as Saaraansh and Dhoop might have been but it has more to do with the struggle, a very subtle difference in the take on the topic that makes Manjrekar's effort all the more laudable. The movie might not succeed at the box office (Sanjay Dutt's whistle inducing charms notwithstanding) but this has to go down in history as one of the better movies that Bollywood has come up with and one of the better performances of that man, that legend that goes by the name of Amitabh Bachchan.