Rock On!

Rock On… watched it, and liked it. Here’s the one line review:

In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri.

– Douglas Adams

ЁЯЩВ

Jaane Tu …

Not many movies have made me blog about them. At least none has made me blog immediately after watching them. This one is surely one of them. I’ve just returned from the theater… and I’m blogging.

“Jaane Tu … ya Jaane Na” is what I call a “made hit”. This is a movie, whose directors are aware of what are they trying to make … they know that the thing they are trying to make would be mind-bogglingly entertaining … and they successfully make what they are trying to make. ЁЯЩВ It is a really beautiful movie.

And no, I refused to write a review, because its past midnight and I’m not Cinderella. ЁЯШЫ … But I admit that now I’d very much like to ride a white horse on the streets of Mumbai… ЁЯЩВ

Baanwra Man

Have been busy for a while, and will be so for a while. But while work is on, songs still keep haunting me. So here’s another one from an amazing movie called “Hazaaron Khwaishen Aisi”. I’ve talked about the movie earlier on this blog, here. The song is “Baanwra Man” – an amazing composition by Shantanu Moitra. There is a feeling of yearning in the lyrics by Swanand Kirkire. He has himself sung the song as well, and rendition is real soulful. Here are the lyrics:

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдорди рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рдкрдирд╛ред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдорди рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рдкрдирд╛ред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдорди рдХреА рджреЗрдЦреЛ рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рд╣реИрдВ рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдорди рдХреА рджреЗрдЦреЛ рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рд╣реИрдВ рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рд╕реА рдзреЬрдХрдиреЗ рд╣реИрдВ, рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рд╣реИрдВ рд╕рд╛рдБрд╕реЗред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рд╕реА рдХрд░рд╡рдЯреЛ рд╕реЗ, рдирд┐рдВрджрд┐рдпрд╛ рддреВ рднрд╛рдЧреЗред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдирдпрди рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ,
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рдЭрд░реЛрдХреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ,
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рдиреЫрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ,
рддрдХрдирд╛ред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдорди рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рдкрдирд╛ред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЗрд╕ рдЬрд╣рд╛рдБ рдореЗ, рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рд╛рде рд╣реЛред
рдЗрд╕ рд╕рдпрд╛рдиреА рднреАреЬ рдореЗ, рдмрд╕ рд╣рд╛рдереЛрдВ рдореЗ рддреЗрд░рд╛ рд╣рд╛рде рд╣реЛред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рд╕реА рдзреБрди рд╣реЛ рдХреЛрдИ, рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдПрдХ рд░рд╛рдЧ рд╣реЛред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдкреИрд░ рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ,
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рддрд░рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ,
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдмреЛрд▓ рдкреЗ,
рдерд┐рд░рдХрдирд╛ред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдорди рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рдкрдирд╛ред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рд╕рд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЕрдВрдзреЗрд░рд╛, рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рдЦрд╛рдореЛрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛рдБред
рдерд░рдерд░рд╛рддреА рд▓реМ рд╣реЛ рдорджреНрдзрдо, рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реА рдорджрд╣реЛрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛рдБред
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдПрдХ рдШреБрдВрдЧрдЯрд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ,
рд╣реМрд▓реЗ-рд╣реМрд▓реЗ рдмрд┐рди рдмрддрд╛рдП,
рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдореБрдЦрдбреЗ рд╕реЗ,
рд╕рд░рдХрдирд╛ред

рдмрд╛рдБрд╡рд░рд╛ рдорди рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдЪрд▓рд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рдкрдирд╛ред

And, you can listen to the song here.

Monday Mornings

Its not at all like a Monday morning. ItтАЩs almost 7:00 in the morning and I’m kind of half awake. Something mysteriously wrong with my stomach is not letting my sleep to be sound. Not that I made my best attempts to make it sound either. Rather, to lend the mysterious ailment a helping hand, I made myself watch a movie. A movie pending on the not-to-be-missed list for a long while now – Hazaaron Khwaishen Aisi.

BTW there is an equally mysterious creature standing or rather limping besides me. He just now gazed at the monitor and in utterly disgusted (and half asleep) fashion uttered – “what the hell is Zarquon”. And with an equally disgusted tone, I corrected “What nahi WHO the hell is Zarquon”.

Sorry for the digression, it was Mritunjai. Never mind.

We’re talking about Hazaaron Khwaishen Aisi. Ya… Everything about it was amazing. But I can not write a review. After a long time a movie had managed to affect me. No I donтАЩt want to spoil it by writing a review. I’ll just mention what all it managed to affect me with. Everything that in any manner portrays the Delhi of the 70s affects me. I’ve heard the stories of how it used to be in Delhi in those days of Emergency from both of my parents. My parents were (then newly wed) living on the then outskirts of Delhi – Hauj Khas. And took the 26 no. bus to the Regal at CP (oh sorry the then CP :)) to watch movies. The movie sort of gave images to what I just happened to know. BTW its not the first movie to give that vivid images of Delhi of the 70s. Chasm-e-baddoor was another one.

I may be sounding a jerk to not mention the theme of the movie and talk about this, probably unnoticed aspect of the movie. But then, somebody must notice the unnoticed. For the regular review I’ve given you the link above, haven’t I?? ЁЯЩВ

Another thing that affected me, was probably the fact that all characters were sort of doing there own stuff, and said dialogues in-between as if they were naturally speaking to one another. Unlike some other (offbeat) movies where u can distinctly observe people standing and talking to each other. Even the ones like Ijaazat and Zakhm and Arth and Ardhasatya misses this level of naturalness. Oh forget it!! I’ve started to write a review… comparing… even worse than that…

Oh BTW, I didn’t write the above stuff in one go. Mritun managed to pull me out for cup of tea at the stall outside the campus (I’m on the campus BTW). And on the way back it started raining, and that jerk made a strange remark…. “You know there is nothing else like rain”. Being half-asleep I agreed with him… and took some 20 seconds to remind myself that there is nothing else like anything else.

Okay… did you notices too much of “jerks” and “disgust” in my post… pardon me…I’m reading Joseph Heller nowdays. And I’m a bigger jerk than Mritun at times.

Garden State

Its Sunday morning 6:00 am. Yes I’m awake… No, I’m not on a night out… Obviously, a reason to blog. ItтАЩs the first time that I’m blogging in a day even before I washed my teeth. I’m feeling great. ItтАЩs an amazing morning. I can here the birds chirp and the wind blow, along with a Bob Dylan song playing on 92.5 FM somewhere nearby.

Anyways, I watched a movie yesterday – Garden State. Truly marvelous. Zach Braff, Natalie Portman, and Peter Sarsgaard. A movie which I could term as a cute dope movie. Yes I know it sounds weird. The movies is about the events of four days in a guy’s life (Zach Braff), who is living his life on anti-depressants prescribed by his own father (a psychologist). In those four days, one of his old friends (Peter Sarsgaard) and a girl (Natalie) somehow succeed in changing his entire life and making him discover the joys of life. Natalie acts great as a full-of-life, free-spirited, talkative (dumb) girl. Okay that was redundant anyways it helps to specify “dumb” sometimes. Cinematography, abrupt sequence of shots and great editing has resulted in an amazing portrayal of change of emotions. The movie has a lot of out of the blue events, unrelated to the main theme. Such as a bunch of nursery kids making a chain holding hands and crossing the road on an overcast morning. These events are placed at appropriate places in the movie to bring out the thoughts in the minds of characters. All this makes it qualify for a dope movie. And the cuteness is inherent everywhere in the movie, especially whenever Natalie is around. Good to watch a well-made movie after a long time.

Bye for now, I need to have some tea.