charulata and the goat

it's been two days since i watched charulata and i can't get the film out of my head.

satyajit ray is a name that you learn to respect in india. even if you never watched any of his films. charulata was the first ray movie i watched since i grew to my full height. and i was absolutely, utterly fascinated. am still. and very, very glad that i watched it on the big screen. i almost didn't. 'coz i couldn't imagine why or how 'the lonely wife' could be interesting.

of course, there was no goat in that film. or in the french film called the goat. which, i guess, was precisely its point. a funny, funny flick!

and all this good stuff thanks to the hyderabad international film festival!

it's just not cricket, love

that's what maud might've said of the goings on these days.
here's what sambit bal had to say. sanity isn't altogether dead.

can *you* laugh like this?

bah. kids. thanks for the link, poput!

rest in peace, bob woolmer

you will be missed.

koffee with kousin

she: fool, i've decided to stop eating chicken.
me: why. *sigh*
she: u know, those chickens are given lots of hormones and stuff these days.
me: oh.
she: i've decided to eat only fish from now on.
me: but fish have lots of mercury (or was it lead) these days.
she: yeah yeah, i won't eat only fish. guess i'll have to eat vegetables too.
me: vegetables have pesticides.

point is, we worry too much about this stuff. i mean, look at the hyderabadi mosquitoes. they get bigger and fatter each year. the stronger the repellant, the stronger the mosquito. simple. and this is not some new fangled thought process. it's as old as chanakya. apparently that guy put poison in chandragupta maurya's food every day so the king would develop resistance to it. and how do i know all this? wikipedia, of course.


the cartoon's from xkcd. pretty funny stuff there sometimes.

there's a beehive in my balcony!

and let me tell you, it's the third time that the bees have honored us thus. we are, of course, buzzing with excitement.

funny men get through

if you ever watched the late late show, you'd know that craig ferguson is a funny funny guy. i absolutely love him. him and jon stewart. they'll make you laugh so loud, your mum will have second thoughts about having you in the house. see for yourself!

ferguson on shyamalan (bah, not like that)
ferguson on microsoft (my current favorite)

but really, this is not about the funnies. when i looked for my ferguson fix on youtube this morning, i found this.



and he struck a nerve. just like jon stewart did on crossfire.

or like roberto benigni did with life is beautiful.

edit: right after i hit publish, i found this on indiauncut.

getting all touchy feely

so i went barefoot in the lawn this morning. and my soles wouldn't rest till i told you how good the grass feels on them!

i just think it will happen, soon.

i thought it would last my time —
the sense that, beyond the town,
there would always be fields and farms,
where the village louts could climb
such trees as were not cut down:
i knew there’d be false alarms

in the papers about old streets
and split-level shopping, but some
have always been left so far;
and when the old part retreats
as the bleak high-risers come
we can always escape in the car.

things are tougher than we are, just
as earth will always respond
however we mess it about;
chuck filth in the sea, if you must:
the tides will be clean beyond.
— but what do i feel now? doubt?

or age, simply? the crowd
is young in the M1 café;
their kids are screaming for more—
more houses, more parking allowed,
more caravan sites, more pay.
on the business page, a score

of spectacled grins approve
some takeover bid that entails
five per cent profit (and ten
per cent more in the estuaries): move
your works to the unspoilt dales
(grey area grants)! and when

you try to get near the sea
in summer …
it seems, just now,
to be happening so very fast;
despite all the land left free
for the first time i feel somehow
that it isn’t going to last,

that before i snuff it, the whole
boiling will be bricked in
except for the tourist parts —
first slum of europe: a role
it won’t be so hard to win,
with a cast of crooks and tarts.

and that will be england gone,
the shadows, the meadows, the lanes
the guildhalls, the carved choirs.
there’ll be books; it will linger on
in galleries; but all that remains
for us will be concrete and tyres.

most things are never meant.
this won’t be, most likely: but greeds
and garbage are too thick-strewn
to be swept up now, or invent
excuses that make them all needs.
i just think it will happen, soon.

-- going going, philip larkin

an encore of paheli

i first watched paheli a couple of years ago. watched it again on tv tonite, braving all the ads. such a fun film it is, and beautifully made.









and yes, men should wear dhoti kurtas. women should wear lehenga cholis. in rich earth tones. we must all travel on carts and camels. and drink water from brown pouches tied with strings. use kandeels for light. and write with peacock feathers. we shud dance in the desert rain. and pretend to be puppets.

just for the loveliness.