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Okay, first of, this blog post has major spoilers. For those who have been fantasizing about the movie I for ages and haven't gotten a chance to watch it, don't read.
Second of all, fans of Shankar/Amy Jackson, please stay away. There is going to be some serious bashing.

A small town boy rises to fame with his hard work and a bit of help from his lady love. The villains ruin his life. He ruins the villains. All is well- this same old sob story about revenge is all that we got to see in this I-want-to-pluck-my-hair-out long movie. Alright, so you kept the age old plot, but did you try to find something new? Yes, the ill effects of body building. But Shankar, you lost the plot right at the beginning. You showed everything from body building to ad industry to influenza medicine and true love, why couldn't you just pick one and do justice to it instead of just bulldozing us with a teeny bit of all of them?

Now for some elaborate details. The movie started off with promising details about a body builder's life and how he struggles with food intake and stress. If the director was going to change track to some absurd ad commercial industry (where one ad was shot for weeks- I wonder if they were trying to make a movie!), why bother with the whole "drinking water with teaspoon and fainting on the gym floor" scenes?

The fight sequences. Shankar, have you never learnt from your mistakes? Keep it short, for god's sake. Vikram's underwear fight with his competitions- too  long and way too slow and right when we were thinking he was done with fights (at least for the first half), there is an elaborate "oh my god, please stop" fight with Chinese men right before the break. And though the cycle stunt had a little grace, all was lost when the sequence turned into some kind of "impressing the girl thing" that Kollywood can never get enough of.

The scene with Amy Jackson (about whom I am going to explain in detail, later) where Vikram and Amy have a Tamil swearword face-off was pretty impressive though Amy looked like she was being poked with a pin to get the slang right.

When I heard that there was going to be two kinds of Vikram in the movie- one with a hot, to-die-for body and another where he looks just plain dead, I was under the impression that Shankar would delve into the body building world and the side effects/long-term effects of body building (this plot, according to me, has so much more potential than the sad masala plot that we got to see in the end!) But, when I saw some virus attack on the hero, and the lengthy explanation by the doctor, I was disappointed. Why god, why did he have to bring in medicine into a story which already had so many small story lines in itself?

Moving on to Amy Jackson. I know she just moved to Chennai, but as far as this movie goes, she was horrible. (Sorry, I know I will be getting a lot of hate mails from all the guys, including my friends who found her really attractive and hot). She was uncomfortable right through the movie, what with her mouthing haywire and all over the place! As far as her role goes, Shankar has given her a good amount of importance which, because of her uncouth acting, made the movie one big joke.

Vikram- the only saving grace in the movie and unfortunately, I had to settle with the little that I actually got to see his face (no offense, but the I virus made it impossible for me to appreciate his acting!). Points for his dedication and hard work for three years, though I really don't know what he saw in the plot when he first read it. Losing a ton of pounds and going through physical and mental torture over a movie is not something that I would approve, not for a plot line as weak as this one.

The villains were a joke. I have never found Upen Patel (aka John) attractive, funny or dangerous. He just made me want to puke at the male gender in general. The transgender jokes were offensive and over the top. The doctor plot was  nauseating, though it added a bearable touch to the second half. Santhanam was funny initially, but the jokes during the climax were repetitive and annoying, since he used the press card (yes, I take offense).

Finally, the end credits scene was bearable. Couldn't they have at least expanded on that instead of the many fight scenes that were so redundant? 

Phil...

I agree, I do not know every record of yours, every match you’ve played or every bowler you have faced. I agree I don’t know you as a person, I don’t know where you played your first cricket game or what your favourite flavour of ice cream is. But, I know that deep inside, I was praying you should become alright. In fact, I was positive that you will get better, you will wake up, you will hold the cricket bat in your hands again, smile and play. Even if that means I have to wait for ten years for that moment to occur, I knew eventually you would wake up.

But you didn’t.

You were supposed to, Phillip Hughes. You were supposed to. Why didn’t you?

I don’t know why but I can’t stop the tears from pouring, I don’t know why I can’t think of anything else but the moment you fell down. I don’t know why I feel so damn bad.

Maybe it is because I have grown up watching cricket. Maybe because I have seen so many bouncers being bowled. Maybe because never once did I think that a bouncer would kill you.

You were supposed to make history. You were supposed to play on, retire and then have a life of your own. You were supposed to live. You were supposed to make it, Phil. Why didn’t you?

I don’t know you. But it hurts, hurts so bad. Maybe it is because I saw your face when the ball struck you. Maybe it is because it was in the middle of the pitch. Maybe it is because it is the place you have grown up worshipping and loving, that watching you go hurts even bad.

You were supposed to come back. You were supposed to play. You shouldn’t have gone.

I am sorry I am so selfish, but I was so sure you will make it. I am sorry for everything that happened to you.

Because, all I can do is write.  

Because, all I can do is write

Here is a taste of the mentality of Indian guys, first hand.

Some look at you creepily.

Some look at you like they want to eat you up.

Some look at you like they are going to kidnap you.

And there is one other kind. The kind which shakes you up. The kind which wants you to curl up into a ball and never wake up.

When I see this kind, my insides are squirming in fear. But I always put up a façade. A façade of bravery. And when the situation is over and I am still alive and breathing, I write.

Because, all I can do is write.

Auto man: Where do you want to go?

Me: Gem Hospital

Auto man: 120

Me: Nothing more than 100.

Auto man grumbles but asks us (Pooja and I) to get in.

He takes us in a route which we are unaware of. I ask him to use the main road but he says that was the closest and continues driving. He kept asking me for money. I refused. I told him I had gotten into the auto only when he agreed to 100.

Auto man: I will drop you in the middle of the road. Take another auto and go.

Me: I will call the police if you don’t take us to gem hospital.

I agree, I might have over-reacted. I might have responded harshly. But his look and the way he spoke made me and I am not ashamed of what I said.

Auto man: So? If you call the police? Do you think that will scare me? Talk like a woman. This is not the way for a woman to talk.

I was scared. We were in a tiny lane with no one at the vicinity. Kidnap, rape, murder were the many things constantly flashing in my mind. I did not speak a word after that. I did not speak because I had a sister whose face was pale with fear. Because, I wanted to go home safe. Because, though I don’t want to agree to it, I will never be able to overpower him, if situation arose and we would both end up, god knows where.

But one thing kept nagging my mind. Who is he to tell me how a woman should talk? Who is he to confine me to a certain rule that he has on his head? I am a woman and I was in danger and I spoke, wanting to protect myself and my sister. I am not ashamed of trying to threaten him. Because, I had no other way out. Being a woman does not and will not stop me from protecting myself and my loved ones. It is the right of life and I will not have that plucked away from me because of the disgusting Indian mindset about women. 

After a few minutes which seemed like hours, and after the many unknown turns and cuts, we saw the huge Ganesha temple on the corner of my street. And though my sister did not notice, I saw her closing her eyes for just a few moments, thanking the Gods that we knew where we were and we were not in danger anymore. What a way to celebrate Ganesh Chaturti!

I threw the 100 rupee note on his face and hurried up, because I knew I had to write.

Because, all I can do is write. 

Vidiyum Munn, a clear winner

With opportunities aplenty, it is respectably easy for a talented musician to make an entry into the cine industry but it is quite a task for these new comers to sustain and survive. Vidiyum munn, the second in the list for music director Girishh Gopalakrishnan, has made quite a mark among the audience. The depth of lyrics, the poignancy of the tunes, the emotional rendition of the singers and the uniqueness of the music director has added the right masala required to make the music work among the audience.

For a new comer, Girishh has done a fabulous job in portraying the beauty of music. The dedication and hard work is seen with clarity in the music. The song Theeradha Mounam’s uniqueness lies in the voice of the singer, Tanvi Rao. On the downside, she was quite chewy with the words which makes the rendition a little less perfect. Girishh’s venture into playback music with Vidiyadha Iravu is a solid hit. The music is catchy, with the deep meaning and voice adding the much needed spice to the album. Overall the music of Vidiyum Munn is a huge hit in my books. Kudos to Girishh for pulling off such a professional piece of work. 

Aishwarya Kumar.

Change is in the mind

Yesterday, after a long time, I visited the swimming academy where I learnt how to swim just to see and irritate a hydrophobic friend of mine who was learning swimming for the first time. I looked around at the various people who were all geared up for their one hour of swimming and all of a sudden, I notice the two swimming instructors. Both of them were agile, strong and very professional. But that was not why I kept staring at them. They were the same instructors I had when I learnt swimming at the academy all those years ago. It stuck me then that the very famous proverb in the history of earth, "change is the only constant" means nothing, at least right at that moment when everything I saw was the exact opposite of change. 

 I realized then that maybe change is something that we ring about, because we are too bored or find it too monotonous to carry on with the perfect or the near perfect life that we already have. Maybe change is purely in the mind and not based on circumstances. Though everything was different about the place other than the swimming instructors, the two familiar faces made the place the most comfortable one ever.

We all look for change, we all yearn for something new but we forget that the comfort of familiarity is what finally wins over everything, the comfort that we know somebody and can depend on them no matter what.

Aishwarya Kumar

Amma, I salute you

A rift in a relationship, be in any kind of relationship, happens when one person takes the other for granted. And this "taking for granted" phenomenon happens most of the time with the one most important person in our lives without whom we wouldn't even be walking the face of the earth, our mothers.

She wakes up at 5.30 in the morning to make sure that she gets us ready on time, be it sending her kids to school or her husband to office. She runs up and down the house, cleaning up the mess and taking such good care of us. After sending us off, she washes clothes, does the dishes, tidies the house and cooks lunch.

She then decides to take a quick nap, for she is human after all and exertion got the better of her.

Then when evening comes, one after the other, her babies (husband included) come back home. She makes them something special to eat everyday.

"There is no salt in the pasta."

"The chutney tastes awful," we say, not quite noticing her face falling. She has been working for us all day long and the best we give her is a sarcastic reprimand.

She takes it all in and still smiles. Sometimes she loses her cool and screams, at us and at the walls, because we hardly take time to listen to her and pay heed to what she is saying.

She then decides to go out of town for two days.

Oh, all hell breaks loose in the house.

We somehow manage to survive without the salt-less pasta, the awful tasting chutney. We wear the same school uniform to school the next day  because there is no one to wash out dirty clothes. We somehow get ready and leave for school/college/office in the morning, eating left overs. We get back home and the gate is shut and there is no smiling mother standing there, welcoming us back home.

We open the doors ourselves and go inside the house. We  have one look at it and we think "oh my God, how does amma do this everyday? How does she not get tired? How does she manage to keep the house perfectly in check?"

Then she comes back and taking one look at her smiling face, we know, everything is going to be okay. That the angel is back to guide us through our busy schedules, always smiling, always having her arms open to take us in, no matter how badly we treat her or have treated her in the past.

That is amma for you. unconditional, irrevocable love.

Aishwarya Kumar. 

The touch therapy

Love is a very relative term. It can mean a lot of things and it can be shown in a lot of ways. There is a general theory among elders (particularly people belonging to the 20th century) that touching, hugging, kissing is not the way of showing love. Rather, they want children to act upon it. They want us to clean the house, study hard, massage my mother's legs and so on. What they don't seem to understand is there is a lot of power in a hug and a kiss. And me hugging my mother and telling her that I love her does not mean that I don't respect her or I don't draw inspiration from her. For that matter, talking to her freely, sharing my inner most feelings, calling her my best friend are a few things that generation has never heard of and I pity them. There is nothing like the insight of your mother on dangerous subjects like the future. She has been there and done that. So that closeness will not only help you understand life from a different perspective, but it will also relieve you from the burden of holding something only to yourself.

My mother could never tell hers that she had a crush on a boy or that a guy on the road looked hot. Because they were taught that that was disrespect to the parent. What I don't understand is how has being close to your mother that you tell her everything anything to do with respecting her? I respect my mother and she knows that but there is also a level of comfort due to which I can talk about anything and everything to her. I think that is something very special that most of the kids in the past generation have missed out.

Just like  how you don't like me hugging her and letting her know that I love her, I don't like falling on her feet to tell her that I respect her, but I still make sure that I do that because you ask me to or because it makes you happy. Just the same way, respect my decision of giving my mom the 'touch therapy' once in a while because I know that even though she pushes me away every single time, it makes her feel special and it makes her feel happy.

Aishwarya Kumar