Yes. Men Should Learn Cooking!

He is a man of short stature and wheatish complexion. Close to black and too far from fair. Of about 30-35 years old and four feet two inches, roughly. Very thin. Perhaps at a 99.99th percentile on the thin-men list on the earth, excluding those in space and Namibia. He has no moustache. His hands and legs are short and hairless. Bony face. Always wearing a seriouslook on his face and a trouser-like thing hanging down his waist which resembles something between full-pants and knickers. I also confirmed, it’s not a three-fourth too. He is none other than Napolean Bonaparte, 'the little corporal'.
Sorry. I was lying. He is our cook Tapan (pronounced ‘Tapan’). I usually address him as Tapanji, to motivate him to do my snacks after returning from office - usually masala papad, gold fingers, upma or jeera rice made from previous day’s white rice - amdist his busy schedule of maincourse cooking.

He was recruited through a referral, our present bai (from the marathi word meaning ‘bai’) who was inturn recruited through our previous bai (also from the same marathi word as above) who left our service to pursue other career opportunities. The panel – we four roomies- took a gruelling interview of Tapan. The core strength, as the panel found, was Tapan is very innovative in nature. Though he has had a short stint in his previous engagement as a cook, he sounded like a man of confidence and a symbol of integrity. Tapan’s culinary abilities were not so convincing although we understand it’s not reasonable on our part to judge one’s culinary abilities from the way one talks. Yet, the panel was satisfied with his interpersonal skills and appointed him rightaway. Tapan’s sole responsibility is to cook dinner for us everyday and lunch+dinner during weekends. Salary and other perquisites sum upto Rs 1000/- per month. A note: The writer understands salary and perquisite details are very confidential information. However, he wants to let the readers know Tapan allowed the writer to disclose his compension details on condition of anonymity.

Our bai who referred him asked us some money. Upon enquiry we came to know she was talking about referral bonus. We couldn’t, but obliged. In an attempt to leverage on our helplessness, Tapan proposed for a joining bonus too, but we denied. However we were forced to promise for a discretionary bonus based on his performance, every six months. He was on probation for one week, and we confirmed him thereafter.

It’s been close to six months now after his appointment. So, time for Tapan’s performance appraisal:

1. It was his night of joining. That morning he brought with him a casserole full of pleasing Poha* and requested each of us to taste it and give him our feedback. We understood his intention of giving us a feel of his culinary abilities. We were impressed at Tapan’s gesture. A defined responsibility of cooking dinner only, yet brought us breakfast that morning. Exceeded expectations the very first day.(*Trivia to the ignorant soul: Poha is the 'Compulsory Official Breakfast' in all company canteens in Maharashtra, except on Thursdays, where saabudaana kichdi takes the lead. It is usually made of flattened rice (avil), looks as yellow as turmeric, contains fried peanuts, curryleaves, and all other animate and inanimate beings fallen into it with/without the maker’s knowledge. A plate ranges from Rs 5 to Rs 15, or free of cost if you leave the canteen without paying)

2. One fine night while having dinner, we found solid pieces of mango (from the tamil word ‘manga’ meaning ‘manga’ in tamil) in the dal. Upon enquiry, he said he has used the mango-pickle bottle on the table to give the dal more sourness and make it more delectable. Next day onwards, we started storing all the pickle bottles in the almirah instead of the usual kitchen table. While preparing dal the next day, he was ransacking the entire kitchen. We didn’t speak a word.

3. One fine day, another roomie, who returned from Hyderabad after a week’s vacation, was questioning us as to who finished his recently bought Lion dates dabba.

4. Another fine night while having dinner, each of us found a large piece of ginger (from the malayalam word ‘inji’, meaning ‘ginger’ in tamil) in tomato curry. During a one-on-one with roomie-3, Tapan said he found some ginger pieces lying on the table and doesn’t like to waste anything and hence threw them into the curry. Some other day, one of my roomies was searching for his lost suitcase key.

5. I was back from office and switched on the TV. Tapan came to me and without even soliciting for it, he offered me a cup of lemon tea. I asked him ‘why did you make this Tapanji, I didn’t ask for it na?” He said “It is good for fat people like you, coz it helps you lose fat” I was speechless. He continued “Ji, mera sar bhi darad dera, isi liye lemon tea banaya, aap bhi piyo, aapki charbhi kam hogi”. Then I understood the nature of his concern for me and the reason for the unsolicited lemon tea

6. One evening, I shopped vegetables including palak (a kind of leafy vegetable with leaves). While leaving home after the night’s cooking, Tapan said he is carrying home the entire palak bunch with him because he has some paneer at home and his wife loves palak paneer.

7. Upon frequent complaints from us regarding the bland taste of his dal and other variants, one fine night Tapan cooked some dal-like thing. He indicated he made the night’s dal very very spicy and challenged that we would definitely love it. Next morning, at around 5-45 am, one of the roomies was shouting from the loo to immediately get a fire-extinguisher for him. The rest of us waited for our turn.

p.s. my cholesterol-intensive heart is a bit scared about the consequences if Tapan reads this blog.

A Miracle

When the rain-god smiles - clouds cry
When Swami weeps – a divine hand wipes it dry

23 Jun, 2007 has been one of those most memorable days in my 25 years’ existence. For many reasons. My cousin woke me up and expressed her happiness in meeting me in a week's time in Hyderabad. It was the best way I could ever start a day.

Being a saturday, the first odd thing was going to workplace. All fine till my return therefrom. My head clogged with thoughts of a lovely evening. Oh ossum! The evening nebulose and the cool breeze simulating a girlfriend’s breath. The incognizant mortals sincerely run their routine errands. The huge 45-storeyed structure laughing at me to scale it taking the stairs, man's marvellous invention – wheel - disguising itself as automobile, whirring and honking in their own mad rush. My journey started with a sense of attainment for winding up the officework in time and gazing at nature’s wonder. The poet in me sprang up and whispered:

Oh my dear!!!!
Do you remember, You have a friend,
Waiting for articles from your end,
With whom u took a stand,
Together as a band,
Will you make a bond,
Where in your blog,
Will ideas clog........

Feeling energetic after an occurrence of these lines, I would have walked for a km or two, when it struck me that the evening could become memorable with a garam vada, cutting chai with the lovely company of a cool breeze (Indeed Lovely! I patted myself like a soldier returning from a glorious battle and the poet in me was in full form. I sensed the smell and walked towards a typical Mumbai ‘tuffri’ and the humble man gestured at me with a genuine grin. A vada and cutting chai for myself and some chitchat with the tuffri-wala (opening with: jis din vada-pav aur FM bandh hoga, woh din mumbai rukh jaayega hustaad" . He gladly acknowledged and was apparently amused; asked me kahan se ho bhaiyaa? ( The word ‘bhaiya’ swept within me a sense of young-ness after a long time especially after the bedamned ‘Uncle’ that became a catchword to refer to me ). I was beaming young and resumed chatting with him. During this pithy but meaningful conversation, I judged the entire Mumbai with the limited knowledge I have by throwing wise one-liners at him. (Sample: Mumbai mein tho paanch rupiye ka vada-paav se lekhe 500 tak ka thaali bhi ka sakthe hain. This takes the cake though: magar vada-paav ka mazaa, 5 star hotel mein nahin aata hustaad - for two reasons: To flaunt that I have been to a 5-star hotel-obviously for a company party-and the justification for gobbling in a vada-pav).

“Saade nav rupyey bhaiya” (Rs 9.50)

With a princely disposition, I clumsily put my right hand in my back pocket ending up fumbling there. “No Wallet!” the pessimist in me declared! Never did I find my back-pocket without a wallet during the three years of my monetary history. Now, my palm still groping in my pocket, heart thumping mercilessly and my helpless conscience wasn’t ready to accept the fact. A hasty ransack of all the available pockets didn’t bear fruit. Fortunately I had a few coins, yet wasn’t enough to fulfill the indebtness to the tuffri-wala, shortage of Rs 5.50 still. Was praying to all known deities with trembling hands (figuratively!)

I felt my heart heavier and a panick went up my spine envisaging a ridicule and loss of self-respect before the tuffri co-customers. Feigning a brave face and with a pretense of checking some non-existing documents in my bag, I was yearning to feel some metal(s) in my bag. My mind was racing all over and my sight drawing ridiculous shapes in the air, shamelessly expecting some friend to help me rescue from the crisis. Nah! Nothing happened. An optimist within me peptalked me into ransacking the bag again. A pleasant miracle!! A thick 1-inch copper mint (5-rupee coin) caressed my fingers. A soul that was just on the brink of collapse has now sighed breathing deep from the lungs! The tuffri-wala smiled at me and said Bhai, I knew what you were going through just now and I wudn't have minded even if you hadn't paid followed by an interesting one-liner “har aadmi ki pehchaan hothi hain bhai”. I settled the bill with a sense of pride (Yet, a shameless mortal in me said “why didnt he return my nine bucks, I could have used it to return home by bus, Rs 6 was what I needed. Ha!)

After the state of affairs, within and outside me, calmed down, I thanked all the deities from whom I solicited help in the early paragraph, and resolved to blog about the miracle. Believe me, I never put coins or notes in my bag. My friends can confirm it. But this happend to me. No formal logic am I worried about. A true miracle! It started raining and I thought, “God’s blessings”. He saved my pride and rescued me from being ridiculed. Nevertheless, the thought of how this 5-rupee coin came into my bag obsessed me. Immersed in this thought, I stood in the bus-stand, not realising that I dont even have a single rupee to travel back. I donno know how time passed, all kinds of thoughts came in my mind – “Did I put the coin in unknowingly? Where all did I exchange 5-rupee coins during last week? Where all I dealt with a 5-rupee coin?” - As my memory goes, I use 5-rupee coins to pay to the conductor daily and hence damn sure I would never have put one in my bag. Hence, my conclusion was perfect. I knew my routine, everyday - I exchange a 10 rupee for a breakfast of 5 rupees and keep the change for the next day to purchase the ticket. I havent missed a single 5-rupee coin in my accounting. My thought of accounting this as a miracle was coercive. I became spiritual, I could see Him everywhere. A realisation of how protected I am in this world - he gave me a great family to live with, great friends to hang around, a memorable internship with Lehman. It also started drizzling and I hardly noticed it. With a feel-good sense, my brain was constantly mumbling “its not a miracle, you might have kept the money and forgotten”. But I know for sure, I never keep money in my bag and I always carry them in the left back-pocket. I thought how blessed I am. TRULY BLESSED!

Blessed, Blesseddddd, BBbbblleeeeesssssssddddd!!!!!!!!!!..............

My mother blessed me, I knew how the 5 rupee reached my bag. I remember that day. It was 5th may, I was getting ready to leave for Mumbai for my 4-week internship with Lehman with dreams of making it big, just like a batsman making his international debut. The batsman knows he reached there because he has shown his quality and the right attitude towards the game, but this being his first game, he wants to make it big, he wants to use every opportunity, he is nervous, he has seen or atleast heard of the opposition, he would have already done a swot analysis of the team. But still he is nervous. I too had all these feeling in my mind. “Lehman brothers - equity research” I know this was the place, I wanted to be!!

Whenever I travel or use a new bag, my mother gives it a couple of turmeric strokes and keeps a one-rupee coin and our family deity's photo and hands it over to me, wishing me good luck. I remember it only during the exams when I wanted to score well. Otherwise, this convention was never sacred for me. Coming back to 5th may, I didn’t tell my mom I was carrying this bag that gave me the miraculous coin, so finally when I was ready and about to leave, I picked this bag and kept my shoes in. My mom rushed towards me and said, “hold on, will have to sanctify this”. I struck back “Are you going to do this to the bag I use to carry shoes?” She was silent, took away the bag from me and she disappeared. A couple of minutes and she was back. She asked me for a one rupee coin. I didn’t have one so my sister gave her a 5-rupee coin which she immediately put in my bag. She gave it a turmeric slash and then asked me to remove the deity's photo from the bag and keep it in wallet since I am gonna put my shoes therein. I was sulking, but nothing works before a sweet mother!

A recollection of this incident back home made me break into tears. I realised. The same custom which I flung as ‘stupid’ one day has lent its arm today. I saved myself from “a self-character-assasination”.
Although money is considered equivalent to goddess Laxmi my mother never asked me to remove the coin and my logical-argumentative-disposition fortunately didn’t show it’s face!

Miracle? ‘Perhaps’ for some, ‘not at all’ for the rest. ‘Truly’ for me. Each one of us can argue the way we want, but this is just a proof that there is some mysterious force ruling the entire universe. This mysterious force conspires and helps us get what we deserve (Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist). I have witnessed the way the ‘Force’ emphasised the importance of mother, for that matter, every relation in one's life. After a long time, I smiled with tears in my eyes, the rains poured all around to hide those precious tears. I knew it was His way of drying my eyes and convincing me “Enough, now plan how to get back home”

I could have taken a auto back to office and collected my wallet and gone home. I could have called up my friend in the room ask him to keep the money ready and reach home taking a rick. But I chose neither. I decided this is my day, so let me walk in the rain recollecting all my life's events along the way and relishing all the good that has happened to me so far and honestly thank the ‘Invisible Force’ which has stood by me in pains and gains.

I owe this story to every person whom I have met in my life who has directly or indirectly influenced me. I owe it to my Mom, Dad, Granny, Bro-in-law, Sister, my nephew, my cousins, my friends (special mention of Ranjeeth, Viswanath, Subash, Ramanujam, Subramanian, Haripriya, Msrj Group, Deric, Varada Rajan and a lot many. Last but not the least my ASB buddies!)

Though, shamelessly, i have written everywhere as 'I', this might have not made such a wonderful read, unless Ranji, wudn't have scripted it.

I thank you all for making my life so secured and worth living. and to my Mom,

Maaa!!! Tujhe salaam.

Sivaji - The Thalaivah!

It was raining heavily and he was speeding along the mainroad at 70 kmph through the bedamned traffic wearing a jacket over a white T, a demin jean and some unbranded footgear. He was thoroughly inbrued, a peculiar nevousness went up his spine and was wondering whether he would be able to make it in time, for hardly 15 minutes were left. Never had he prayed to God wholeheartedly and now the time has come….the time has come to give a sanctified glance at the heavens and utter sincerely “God please help me”. The heaven showered its blessings on him and he made it on time. He made it on time coz the show was delayed by 15 minutes.
Screen-1, seat number C-23.

Sivaji – The Boss (stress the capitals please) starring Superstar Rajini Kanth (stress the capitals again please) and Shreya (don’t stress anything)
A software system architect (Domain: Insurance & Banking - Platform: Microsoft technologies) having earned 200-crores returns home from the US with a divine objective: a start-up, engaged in educational and medical services on charitable basis. Suman(villain), a bigshot (politically, economically, cinematically) insists Sivaji on building commercial realty instead of a service industry start-up using the 200-crore, so that he too can share the bottomline bobbing up from the booming real estate market, growing at an average annual rate of 14.5%. A submissive-during-first-half Sivaji regrettably abides by the redtape predators by distributing suitcases of cash, all merely for his aforesaid divine objective, only ending up boarding and lodging in a small suite with a solid grilled door locked from outside and stinking inside due to an attached toilet without walls, and guarded by a policeman holding a stick. Resurrection of Sivaji is what follows with the shibboleth “Every act is fine, with intention divine”, accompanied by whistles and flying paper bits…

Suman Vs Sivaji
Rayban-endorsing-stainedtooth-yet-handsome-and-always-lungie-wearing-sometimes-chaddi-showing-antagonist Suman opposes every move of 60-year-old-denture-wearing-centrefresh-chewing-one-inch-make-up-face-protagonist Shri Sivaji (The BOSS – Bachelors in Social Service). Given his charm and soft demeanor, Suman’s role as a villain was not befitting. It’s like Bipasha playing the role of Sathi Savithri.

Shreya Vs Sivaji
I was of the impression Shreya was playing the daughter of Sivaji until I saw them together in a duet. A middle-class girl who has fascinated Sivaji for the first time in a temple and makes sure Sivaji drools over her until marriage. Astrologically, their curriculum vitae are incompatible (Shreya’s star: Avittam and Sivaji’s star: Chitra) and the astrologer foretells Sivaji is bound to die if he marries Shreya and this risk of death cannot be mitigated using any of the available hedging tools in astrology. Hence, Shreya hesitates for the marriage, yet Sivaji’s belief in existential fundamentals rather than astrological dogmas helps you witness them together on the first-night cot, followed by a duet.

Vivek Vs Sivaji
This veteran humorist makes the first half interesting with his humour and sarcasm, very well complimented by his amazing timing and spontaneity. He plays Sivaji’s comrade right from the beginning to the end. An asset to the movie.

Crew Vs Sivaji
· First best thing is the make-up artist. If you had watched Rajni’s ‘Baba’ you would understand what I mean relatively. Sivaji’s make-up was marvellous and is resonant of younger Rajni from his 1990’s flicks.
· Second best thing is the art direction and the generous squandering on awe-inspiring settings.
· Rahman’s score was a bit disappointing especially from Rajni perspective. It’s like using a techno guitar and jazz for a background score of draupadhi’s vasthraharan. Yet as a standalone project, certainly foot-tapping.
· Shankar was good as usual if not better. His idea of picturizing Rajni in a rap duet was a directional faux pas. A lady attending her brahmin friend’s wedding by wearing a jeans and a bra, just imagine.
· Sivaji and Shreya’s blonde hair was so ‘good’ in a song that you would be tempted to set them on fire.

Rajni’s movies, for shamelessly transgressing all known laws of physics, are fun to watch. I usually enjoy his style of wearing a shirt or unwearing an underwear. In Sivaji, the way he tosses a centrefresh into his mouth and it’s ‘cluck’ sound upon landing, and the way he flips a one-rupee coin are a treat to watch for the Rajni fans.

Big-B, Rajnikanth, Mamooty, Chiranjeevi and T.Hanks – these men have an unusual charisma and a mysterious aura surrounding them. Perhaps that’s what makes them unique.

Go watch it without a linear perspective. A rating of 3 out of 5.

Sivaji (The Boss) - The Market is Bullish

The other day I was having a casual chat with my friend over the phone. The theme for discussion, discourses and debates usually varies from beautiful females at work and neighbourhood, the rare appreciation email from client (say client X) pathetically negated by the frequent apology emails to client (client X again), degree of happiness about the recent hike, impending bonus expectations and connected rumours, future course of action, recent interview goof-ups….(don’t you think this is an unnecessary paragraph..?)

One such theme was Sivaji – The Boss (stress the capitals please) Starring Superstar Rajni Kanth (stress the capitals again, please). My friend Purushotham told me his boss has warned his entire staff not to take leave on June 15, and in case, anyone has got a Sivaji ticket, he is willing to pay double the face value. He continued, his boss doesn’t even seem to read newspapers and watch channels like CNBC, Headlines Today, Etv, Maatv, Zeetv, Startv, Asianet, Suryatv, Fashiontv (this wasn’t there in his list though) being fully rocked by a variety of dedicated, properly planned, Rajni-rich, Sivaji-rich, full-time shows and voting schemes thereby pissing off bollywood wannabe's. Or why the hell would my friend Purushotham's moron boss insult a ‘sivaji ticket’ by his interest to pay double the face value? Sivaji or fun, eh? Sivaji ticket-prices are skyrocketting each day. Adding to the misery is the fact all second-rung theatres (like Laxmi, Lamba, Priya, Radhika, Shanti, Devi – I just wonder why most of the theatres are feminine) have already shut their box-offices, perhaps 3 weeks ago. (They dont have plans to open it for the next 4 weeks as well) Price-range in second-rung theatres (like - just to reiterate - Laxmi, Lamba, Priya, Radhika, Devi – I am still wondering why most of the theatres are feminine) ranged between 1200 – 1500 /- per ticket (INR not Japanese Yen)

I have seen and personally experienced those families which pull through each month with a mere Rs 1000/-. Now the ticket rate wavering in the price band of 1200 – 1500/- makes me feel sick. Makes me hate movies all together. On that note, I resolve. I resolve big time - I WILL NOT WATCH SIVAJI..

any idea when the pirated Dvds would be out?

MP3 - Take this exam?

Central Board Of Filmy Education
habba habba Chowk, Andaman Nicobar, India
(Annual Examination June 2007)
Sub: Mera Pehla Pehla Pyar

Candidate Name (optional): _________

Orkut ID (mandatory): __________

Time: 2 hours 30 mins

Maximum Marks: 100 marks

20 X 5 = 100 marks

Answer the following questions not exceeding 150 words each.
Note: All questions are compulsory and each question carries marks.

Q1. Elucidate the plot of ‘Mera Pehla Pehla Pyar’. Give illustrations wherever necessary
Q2. Who are the different people involved in MP3? Describe, in a nutshell, their roles in the movie
Q3. How is Cheeni Kum/Nishabd different from MP3?
Q4. “The movie MP3 has a very important moral in it, hee hee hee” Who said so? And explain the moral.
Q5. Newspapers say “each one of you can relate this story to your school lives”. True or False?
Give examples (note: 2 bonus marks for naming those news papers)

ANSWER SHEET___________________________________

Ans 1 Torture! There is this girl called ‘Ayesha’ (that’s her name) who is quite transparently 25-years old, and was kicked out by a school in London for being cerebrally impaired; hence joins class 11 section B in an Indian school. And there is this guy called ‘Rohan Sood’ (so called because ‘Rohan’ is his first name and ‘Sood’ his surname) who is 15-years old of class 12 C, also studying at the same school (what a coincidence). The pair fall in love with each other during an incident where, Rohan, in an attempt to bunk the class by jumping out of the window, lands straight under Ayesha’s mini-skirt. Ayesha blushes at his mischievousness, quite amused and gives a take-it-forward-Rohan look. Confused Rohan not knowing what to do, ironically falls in love with her. And there starts their sleepless nights and sleepy days with intermittent duets. Both of them are filthy rich, both of them have been sexually fasting for years together (to be exact, 15 years and 25 years respectively) and both of them have good-looking moms (only Rohan has a father; I’m not sure about Ayesha’s, even Ayesha is not sure, so does her mom) who thoroughly encourage their children’s amorous pursuits. One fine night, Ayesha leaves for Paris. And Rohan follows suit. Rohan’s father’s ICICI credit card finances Rohan’s air-ticket to Paris and all other boarding and loadging expenses are financed by Rohan’s friends; all the hard work and perseverance just for one divine reason: They wish Rohan to meet Ayesha under the Eiffel tower and give a vigorously passionate gesture (some people call it ‘kiss’, but I call it “closing each other’s mouth with their respective mouths).

Ans 2 Director, Producer, Editor, Music Directors (the duo called ‘Smoke’ – called so because….sorry..even I don’t know), hero, heroin, hero’s friends, heroin’s friends, character artists and characterless artists worked together very hard, with dedication, discipline, team work, commitment and collectively screwed up the entire movie.

Ans 3 Infact, this is just another sort of Cheeni Kum/Nishabd with a wide age-difference between the two main characters, the only difference being, in Cheeni Kum and Nishabd, the age of the characters is quite explicit in the verbal diaglogues itself. On the other hand, in MP3, you would have to observe the actress very closely (her face, I mean) to determine her age.

Ans 4 It’s a cakewalk - Mr Chidambaram said that. And the moral of the story is as follows:
“Never even go to the vicinity of the theatre projecting this movie. It is better to stay at home and eat saabudaana kichdi while watching ‘kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi’ Or watch those lusty animals on Animal Planet Or watch Discovery Channel and enlighten yourself on a caterpillar’s reproductive system while eating idli-sambaar”

Ans 5 Newspapers do say many things. Probably the news bureau was working on a biased sample to come up with ‘you-can-relate-your-story-too’ hypothesis. I am a living but healthy exception. I could not relate this story to my school days because I come from a boys’ school (meaning a school containing only boys who drool over girls of other schools and return home with bruised eyes)

For Office Use Only

Examiner Name:

Signature with Seal: #######

Marks (remarks, if any): 23/100 (eternal rustication recommended)

Day's First Sun Rays....

Days first sun ray’s, reminds me of the days
When in the orchid farm, your hug made me warm
As the Sun rises up, your thoughts wake me up,
Cursing the time at noon, got to meet you soon,
During the twilight hours, wish to greet you with flowers,

Can I give you a rose, to say you’re so close?
Can I give you a lily, to prove my love isn’t silly?

As these thoughts run wide, like a autumn comes my bride,
In the withering light, expressing my love, gets bright

My heart says dear, expressing love needs no fear,
Not a week, month or year, this pain is a decade old dear,

Neither my love was expressed, norrr was it suppressed
As she pass’s with my boss, me gone for a toss
As Sun starts to set, my eyes go wet,
As my love of the years, flows down the cheek as tears,
My heart says “is it fate?’ I know now its too late,

My memory is afresh, reminding me your breath afresh
In the movie hall, frigtend by your mom’s call
When your dad walked past, you hugged me so fast,
You’re love in my heart, but I wasn’t so smart,
Meetings so many you miss, compensate me with a kiss,
Thought it was love, together we watched the dove.
Together we watched the dove, I thought it was love.

Still my hearts says to me, for missing her, dare you hurt me,
So, praying all the night, wishing you were by my right,
I fall asleep, when immersed in your thoughts so deep

Days first sun ray’s, reminds me of the days….

Cheeni Kum - Bilkul Jhoot.!

After doses of well-deserving hoopla and a strategic leverage of Illayaraja’s tunes for the promos, I was finally cajoled into watching the show. Could not accept more that the film does make it to the viewers’ heart.

What’s Special?
There are only countable flicks in bollywood, hollywood or any other self-proclaimed wood with such a sweet pass-over through one’s heart. This one certainly qualifies to be one of them. Very conveniently, Cheeni Kum is certainly NOT one of those age-less love movies where two awkwardly sex-starved protogonists – one male and a female – with extravagantly ridiculous age-gaps, break into lecherous deeds in the name of love.(Offline - Nishabd was an awkward experience; as awkward as a woman wearing a nightie and doing gymnastics)

Maestro’s tamil tunes, re-conditioned to contemporize with the bollywood frames, does more than justice to the movie. Songs and bits are a treat for the ears and definitely a plus-point for the movie. Illayaraja lovers will certainly love him more.

Needless to mention about the cinamatographer (PCS) whose images you would carry with you (free-of-cost) while going home - remember those Mani Ratnam walas? - And Balki’s presentation style and character-usage are awesome too.

What’s There On The Menu?
Big B has more to offer to Tabu than his Hyderabadi Zafrani Pulav – the same scrwed-up pulav, which triggers an affair between him and Tabu. One can clearly see Big B’s striking metamorphosis during his trysts with her. With each frame moving past, Big B looks younger and you won’t realise it until he barefacedly stops by a drug store to buy condoms and some variant of sildenafil citrate (Boost is not always the secret of one’s energy ;-)

Tabu (Watta comeback!) with her intelligent looks, naughty advances and flirting disposition, skillfully manages to cast a spell on the confirmed bachelor by victimising him to her charms. Big B shamelessly allows his treasured-for-64-years arrogance and self-respecting temperament to neatly melt down before 34-from-inside-24-from-outside Tabu’s sex appeals. If you are a guy (marital status does not matter), I am sure at some point of time during the 2-odd hours of run, you would certainly fall in love with her. Do notice the way she grins at Big B’s embarassments with her tactfully interlocked jaws.

And yes, there is this Leukamia cutie – 9-year old little girl named ‘sexy’ who has a ridiculously shorter life-expectancy but a justifiably longer tongue - and appears more matured than Big B. Her voice, delivery style, philosophical questioning, untimely humour and excessive desire to watch porn flicks are like chopped onions for your pav-bhajji

Mannerless Zohra Sehgal, age 85 (still counting) attempts at being the youngest of all and demonstrates her chemistry with Big B as a mother quite well. And funny too.

Last but not the least, a Cricket fanatic-cum-Gandhian-cum-Father-cum-Father-in-law role was well portrayed by Paresh Rawal. A pakka Gandhivaadhi, yet a non-vegeterian, who so badly condemns the couple’s intimacy that he goes on a hunger-strike to express his disapproval.

Salt and Pepper?
The evolution of intimacy between Big B and Tabu via result-oriented flirting includes but not limited to good techniques for those who are flirtlingly-challenged and are sincerely willing to learn the art of flirting.
Big B’s reactions and embarassments during his stint with Paresh Rawal makes the second half more interesting and generates relatively more chuckles in the cine hall.

Customer Feedback:
Overall, a delicious cuisine which you would swallow first then chew over after coming out of the hall. Big B’s acting influences and Tabu’s charms are as dominating as a vada in Vada-Pav - afterall what’s in a Vada-pav without a Vada?

Our rating: Something between 3.5 and 4, out of 5.

Enough read, now go watch it.