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Wednesday, July 15, 2009

How ironic

that they say 'Time heals all wounds'

and then they also say 'Time and tide wait for none'

Saturday, July 11, 2009

The stufff Heroes are made of

No not those Heroes. Or these ones (going by this conversation between Ritu and her youngest).

I rather meant the Greek kind. You know, world-famous, heartbreakingly handsome/beautiful (no wait, how many heroines did they talk of?), annoying the gods, stuffed full of derring-doo*...

And apparently, they are half-god and half-human.

I have the lovely Mukta to thank for putting me onto this particular series involving demi-god boy-hero Percy Jackson and a host of his friends and enemies in a world that revolves around Greek Gods, Titans and their minions, all relocated in modern day America.

I've finished the first three books in the series now and to sum it up very shortly... the series gets better with each book — the plot, structure, narrative, setting, characters and general feel of the books seem to get better with each new one.

Of course, if one had to explain what the series was about in about ten seconds (as would happen in conversation) one would immediately reference Harry Potter and say they are similar. But they aren't. The only reason there is a comparision is because Harry Potter happens to be a handy reference to talk about a series that involved children heroes who did wonderful things and lived in a magical world so different from what most of us are used to (and this is where I indulge myself with the thought that there actually are some of us who get to be a part of different magical universes). Harry Potter is a phenomenon. Hence, easy as a popular culture reference to explain something that might be in the same line.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians, however, deserves to be a phenomenon and I find it baffling that it isn't quite as popular as it could be. Quite honestly, in some ways this series is far better than Harry Potter in that they do not get cliched or predictable. Harry Potter was certainly imaginative, trouble is, latin names and incantations and the supposed twists in the end are far too much of a trademark to seem novel after a point. Not so with Percy Jackson. Having to work with Greek legends of yore and still fashion something that is gripping, not cliched and keeps the reader guessing is something of a stellar effot. And Rick Riordan has nailed it. There was always the danger of sounding rather patronising and the series turning into a sort of re-hash of who's who in Greek mythology, but he's managed to steer clear of these dangers and write books that are entertaining and interesting enough to be read by adults even if they were written for kids between 9 and 11.

The series starts off with The Lightning Thief where we are introduced to Percy Jackson, supposed delinquent who has been kicked out of all the schools he has attended and enrolls in a new one every year. We see him come to terms with his demi-god status, fight monsters and almost get killed, find a haven in Camp Half-Blood, grapple with the ideas of immortality, super-powers, training in special survival skills and take on a quest that is of Olympian magnitude and puts him in an audience with various gods in their modern day avtars. Much finger-biting action except the finger-biting is interrupted by explosions of laughter thanks to the numerous well places wisecracks. I mean, seriously, who addresses a Minotaur as 'ground beef' while fighting it to death?

As the first book in the series, there was much explanation required about various things. Why Olympus was now located in America, for example. The basic premise of that was that the gods have been responsible for the progress of mankind through centruries and therefore have moved with the times as humankind flourished in different eras. In other words, the gods have sustained Western Civilisation and are based in America now as it is the centre of western civilisation. Personally, I had issues with this explanation because that discounts the rest of the world that doesn't belong to the 'west'.** Coming from a land that was around before even the idea of America or the West came up, a land that has a vast and rich heritage of its own, one that rivals Greek civilisation and mythology... it's natural that I take exception to this monopolising by the 'West'. Also, I thought there was a rather distinct tone of 'America is the greatest country on the planet that the universe has ever seen' and while I understand that an author may write whatever they wish, I do think it's important to be a little more understanding of things outside your own cultural sphere when you are addressing an audience that is global.

There is this one instance in the book where Percy asks a girl at camp who her father is, assuming that her father too is a god, as his is. She replies "He's a professor at so-and-so university. What, you thought only male gods were capable of seducing mortals? How sexist is that?". I thought it was laudable, this idea if not assuming that men have the upper hand and putting it across in a book meant for children. This theme of gender equality is rather noticeable throuhought the series***. Sure it revolves around one seemingly central male character but it has two female leads who each are central to the narrative..

Other things that are dealth with very convincingly are the issue of how mortals do not seem to see gods and demi-gods or their activities (they are under the power of the Mist and essentially see exactly what they wish to see), what are the limitations of heroes/heroines/demi-gods/goddesses (they are human and god so they may be destroyed by weapons on both sides), the idea of life after death in the underworl (and this is really worth a read) and loose philosophical musings which make a lot of sense.

The Lightning Thief was well written but it felt a little unsure as if the author were testing the waters and was trying rather hard to convince readers. Specially when it starts off saying 'Don't believe me if you want to but everything I say is true and there really is such a world'. He eases up further on and really gets into the story-telling so it's not so bad... and as the books roll on, the writing is effortless, seamless, confident and very riveting.

Book two, The Sea of Monsters has Percy going off to help an old friend who is in trouble which ties in with another doomsday prediction for Olympus and the gods, while dealing with a brother who has been sprung upon him and more of the meet and greet/meet and duel with different monsters and gods.

Book three, The Titan's Curse sends Percy and his friends off on a quest to stop the Titans from overtaking Olympus, all the while being treated with suspicion because the prophecy revolves around one of them betraying Olympus.

Everytime a god is introduced in the book, the description of them and their mannerisms are just so endearing. Apollo for instance is shown as a teenager who drives a Maserati Spyder and is constantly getting up the back of his avowed maiden sister Artemis (who prefers to appear as a 12 year old girl), specially by teasing her huntresses. Aphrodite is shown to be indescribably beautiful, actually being able to manipulate love as a physical power. The gods and godesses wear modern clothes, talk slang soemtimes and are cool. Mythical creatures such as Hippocampi, Pegasi and Ophiotauri crop up and are just as delightfully sketched.

I am not sure if these books would interest and entertain anyone who has read Greek mythology but they have spurred me to read up on Greek mythology. My only gripe with the author is that the books seem too short, even though it it took me the better part of three hours to finish one. However, there doesn't seem to be a danger of the series ending quickly due to lack of plot and continuation. Which is far more than can be said of series on similar themes anywhere else.


*That is a funny word, seeing as how 'doo' is generally associated with err... crap. Maybe it was supposed to mean 'being brave enough to take risks but still crapping their pants'.

** I have issues using the term 'the West' because, as one rather prolific teacher on my media course, who really influenced my understanding of the media, explained: It isn't quite the right term. Who really did term it the West and why does the geographical position and consequent terming by this person influence the thinking of the rest of civilisation, irrespective of their respective geographial locations, specially when it is so obviously wrong?

***Maybe it's due to the fact that Greek mythology itself has never been about brushing things under the carpet or treating female characters as secondary. Goddesses such as Athena, Artemis and Aphrodite are as much about power as gods such as Apollo, Area and Hermes. Greek goddesses are not relegated to the task of looking pretty and being brainless. They DO stuff. Which includes pursuing men and having affairs if that's what they want. And none of that is treated as shameful. Aphrodite's dallying with Ares while being married to Hephaestus was an open secret. Hepheastus was mad of course and did all in his power to mock his wife and her lover but nowhere does Aphrodite or any other goddess get burdened with having to be virtuous, docile, meek, submissive or any of the other things that are so typical of female characters in Indian mythology. Really. We have goddesses of wealth and knowledge and so on and while that is good, the power to create and destroy still rests with male gods (ironic considering reproduction is a function that is largely the province of a woman) while the women have to put up with being pure and beautiful because they are female. If they are female and they get up to tricks because they are smart, they are reagarded as vamps who must be done away with. When goddesses themselves are portrayed thus, is it any wonder that female characters in epics are portrayed as delicate beings who cannot take things into their control, are simply pretty and about as useful and furniture? Any wonder that the Bharatiya Nari is expected to conform to these standards? You know what, after all, I think I can actually see why 'the West' is more progressive than the subcontinent.

Friday, July 10, 2009

The End. Or The Beginning. Whatever.

Seeing as the excitement of her budday is now over ... or at least calmed down a bit, here's the last part that you've been waiting for so eagerly.

Neelam, being the super naagin, manages to save Nero. Vitamin saves Baby. The girls have a catfight over "Nero mera hai!!" while Nero fiddles and wonders wtf is going on. Neelam is abt to win (considering she DOES have naagin powers)... but acquiecses. she, then confesses to not being interested in Nero, but in his royal coin pendant. She tells them the story of how Nero is the only royal heir and can free her lover. Her plan was to seduce Nero and steal the pendant to free her lover!

Nero promises to help.

The four of them fly off to the palace on the magic carpet. By the time they arrive, there's a "homecoming" party being thrown for Karan Singh's daughter. 3 of them enter as dancers with the band, while Neelam takes her naagin form and slithers down to the dungeons. Vitamin falls in love with the princess.

At the party, Baby does an item number with Vitamin to the tunes of "Mehbooba Mehbooba" and they manage to distract everybody while Nero enters the dungeons. The sultan gets wind of someone breaking in to the dungeon and expecting only the wizard, he tells his guards to "check it out".

However, when the guards realizes that it is Nero - because he's still wearing the coin pendant - they join forces with him and help him fight Karan Singh and his evil goons. After a fight involving magic swords and flying dragons, Nero is forced to retreat to the dilapidated maa kali temple where he is reunited with his mother.

Karan Singh challenges Nero to come out and fight by saying that he would easily kill Nero and get the coin to ultimate power.

Karan Singh: "Mere paas flying dragons hain, riyaasat hai, harem hai... tumhare paas kya hai?"

Nero: Mere paas maa hai.

Nero, Baby and maa exit the mandir to the Tashan background score...

Rejuvenated by his "maa ka aashirwad", Nero manages to defeat Karan Singh in the duel. Neelam is finally reunited with her naag. Vitamin continues to attempt to romance the ex-princess (who is allowed to retain her princess rights). Baby weds nero and they take over as king and queen and restore peace and prosperity.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

What's the similarity between a Walkman and a Cat(ty)

They're both now 30!

I didn't forget after all. Not that there was much chance of that happening what with you reminding me every two seconds literally and behaving pretty much like a four year old about to turn five .. hee hee! :D

You know, I really wanted to post something witty, nice, slightly sentimental and one hundred percent mental to mark this day ... but I guess that's gone the same way as my wish of being with you to celebrate. It's a bit disappointing that it's not even like it was last year. But hey, not all is lost! :D

Anyway, here is to you, item-number expert, bollywood trivia encyclopaedia, script writer extraodinaire and exceptional high priestess of insanity ...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIYATCH!!!

I love you very much :)

And if you still haven't figured it out, something is happening ... obviously I ain't gonna tell you what :D But you do get given a clue: This is a treasure hunt and the link to your next clue ...










ought to be obvious ;)

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Aage hua yeh

The beginning

Nero, meanwhile, is rescued by a passing dolphin who carries him to safety and leaves him at a sapera basti on an island far far away where he is adopted by Vitamin Singh's (Arshad Warsi) father who teaches him to make fiddles. In the meantime, Karan Singh takes over the throne, and begins ravaging the land and hoarding women for his harem. He, however, cannot use any of the charmed coins. He binds the wizard, breaks his wand and dumps him in the dungeon as well in an attempt to seize the coins. The wizard lends his magic carpet to his ichchadhaari naagin, Neelam (Bipasha Basu) and tells her to scour the earth and oceans and find "the one" coin as only it would now be able to free him and reunite her with her lover, who guarded the royal treasure.

Nero is happy with his footloose and fancyfree lifestyle and is a regular at the local bar, "bay-bee" with Vitamin. The bar-owner's daughter Baby (Kareena Kapoor) is in love with Nero. Nero, initially plays hard-to-get because he thinks she's way out of his league. Baby breaks out into a remixed version of "Pathhar ke sanam"... after some antics by Vitamin, Nero realizes that he does, afterall love Baby. Nero sings romantic song (main tera nero hoon), to now convince the "I-can-play-hard-to-get-too-and-I-do-it-better-than-you" Baby which ends up with Nero asking her to marry him. She goes home, tells her father to go and speak to Nero's adoptive dad and happily breaks into "Silsila yeh chahat ka". Nero, eavesdropping, then discovers that she has loved him since they were kids and has filled an empty beer bottle with kerosene and lit a diya, which she has kept lit all these years.

Both fathers agree to the wedding and the date's set. Vitamin throws Nero a bachelors party, which has Neelam dancing to "raat bhar jaam se, jaam takraayega" for the boys. Neelam tries to hit on Nero, who turns down her advances. Obviously, Neelam doesn't take this very well. She now starts stalking him and sings "aap jaisa koi meri zindagi mein aaye". A day before the wedding, she locks Baby in the bathroom, hangs a sign of "out of order" on the door, dons Baby's avatar and turns up at the wedding.

However, non-english reading audiences open the bathroom door and un-gag Baby. Baby turns up at the wedding scene and insists she's the real bride. Nero challenges her to prove it. She runs up and gets her beer bottle diya which is still lit. Neelam gets back into her own form... and confesses to being an ichchadhaari naagin. They both duel to a song (main teri sautan, sautan tu meri... main naagin tu hai baby...) which ends in Neelam smashing the diya. It sets the mandap on fire.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Where there is an Eve ...

One of the things that I love London for is that I don't have to put up with eve-teasing or sexual harassment when am on the street, minding my business. I can wear what I like, do what I like and even then, rare is the occasion on which I might hear whistles or catcalls.

Which is not to say the populace here is completely sterile. More often than not, strangers might walk up to you and say "You're pretty/gorgeous/beautiful blah di blah", but that is that. You respond (smile, say thank you, whatever) or not, and you both move on.

Personally, I haven't ever felt threatened by some man on the street checking me out. Unlike in India where every outing is some sort of battle against every other random male you encounter, hell bent on stripping you of your dignity and making you feel hunted, desperate and even ashamed for something that isn't even your fault.

To be classified an eve-teaser here, the requirement is to be some sort of labourer, going by what I've seen, heard and read on occasion. Building workers, painters etc are bound to take on the role of eve-teasers out here with their jeering cat-calls and rather frequent passes at every passing thing remotely-female. They call you 'love', wish you whatever time of the day it is and try all the time to strike up conversations. Having had painters work on the office building for a good month or two, I've been subject to all of that. They discovered where the ladies' loo was and we had to out up with several instances of them hanging out right there making it difficult to use the facilities. Except that if you told them to go away, they would. Never mind that they returned.

And having faced much worse back home, this does seem rather harmless. Which is not to say it ought to be condoned, but it's easier to deal with. Somewhere, a society that is sensitised to women being more free in their dressing and behaviour with the opposite sex seems a safe place to be. Relatively though. Because apparently, there is plenty of eve-teasing going on here as well. If it isn't the rising cases of 'up-skirting', it is the numerous instances of women on bikes being targeted (mostly a summer phenomenon because winter would dictate the use of clothing that was more voluminous).

What intrigued me mainly is the reaction to both these pieces (do follow the comments). While there was much 'Why wear a skirt then, wear trousers' sort of reaction (which gave rise to the "Yes of course, it's always a woman's responsiblity/problem. Why can't men act more civilised?" argument) on the piece about up-skirting, the reaction on the piece on women-bikers has been more constructive input on what to do, a lot of it from women readers.

And I suppose that is where the Indian society and the 'West' part. There isn't any 'Wear approporiate clothing' 'Do not make yourself conspicuous' sort of advice coming from other women, nor do the laws not take eve-teasers seriously. And nobody is giving women strictures on how dressing conservatively/modestly will earn them the respect of men.

This isn't abour comparing crime rates in either place or a comparision of whether there are more psycho stalkers here than in India and so one or the other society has merits over the other.

This is about how women are treated with far more respect (without having to dress conservatively) out here than there and what a vast difference it makes. It may not be a completely safe society but where a problem exists/arises, there is the assurance of it being dealt with.

Which makes one wonder. What does it/will it take to bring about a similar state in India? Is it that men here are used to the company of women, and their liberal attire, for it to be distracting? Or is it something beyond?

One of things one notices as an immigrant is other immigrants. Specially of the desi variety. Now, very loose and general observations gleaned are how hitherto conservative girls tend to 'bloom' on getting here — what with adopting modish raiment that shows far more skin than they have ever dared to back home, perhaps even getting into the drinking/smoking culture. What is far more evident is the utter cluelessness and consequent disastrous attempts of a huge number of the male desi immigrant population at mingling with the natives and other nationals (read girls).

A lot of times, they tend to believe firmly in the assumption that is the bequest of bollywood — that foreign girls (specially the white ones) are 'easy'. And everything they do, tends to stem from here. Which doesn't make for pleasant encounters.

A friend of mine (a native) went out for a drink with this Indian chap she met at some random inter-college party. She came back saying it was a very 'bizzarre date'. Which is to say the guy kept insisting she have another drink (and boy, the smell of wine on her breath that night was VERY strong) and when she made to leave, he'd get upset and his behaviour took a drastic 180 degree turn. Having been far too used to this sort of a male, I told her that she probably should not have gone out with him in the first place. What upset me is that such men tend to spoil the game for everyone else, leaving a bad taste lingering. I've met a lot of decent desi guys who know very well how to behave themselves, whether around firang company or not. What makes the rest so despicable then?

One can map their behaviour rather precisely. Having spotted some hapless chick to bestow their unwanted sorry attention on, the next step is to somehow manage to be in the same vicinity as their target or get her number, by hook or crook. Then comes the calling her (repeatedly, if she doesn't answer the first time) or wrestling in on the conversation only to make her the target of all their comments thus effectively achieving three outcomes — making a spectacle of themself while alienating self from other gathered company, bringing to a halt any conversation that has hitherto been going on and embarassing said chick to no end. And then, they 'ask her out'. At which point, if the girl says yes, the following date is going to be an experience she will want to forget in a hrry but will not. If she says no, then this is the cue for them to act VERY upset and issue statements such as 'Oh I am SO sorry I hurt your feelings, i should have NEVER asked, I really regret it' and then proceed to slag her off as a 'slut' in front of friends. In the middle of all this, please include clumsy lines such as 'I really liked blah di blah about you... and I never give compliments, you should think yourself fortunate tat I am complimenting you.' (Oh really? And just WHO THE HECK are you that the girl ought to be so so honoured and grateful for your 'compliments'?)

I fail to understand where the anger comes from. Is it because all these years they've been so conditioned to think of themselves as the bees' knees by their mammas and families, little rajkumars who can have everything they want, never mind if they deserve it or not? Why is it so hard for them to accept a no as a no and then go on? I would draw a comparision here and say foreign men are better able to deal with 'rejection' but I am not entirely sure if that is true.

Where does this tie in with eve-teasing though? Often, it is reasoned that the lack of opportunity to interact with women regularly makes men behave thus, in trying to attract the attention of women. Which is a fair point. Indian society still doesn't quite sanction casual platonic interactions between the sexes, gossipping aunties are testimony to that fact.

Technically that should mean that the attempts of men to attract attention ought to be innocuous to a large extent. Why then is it that women feel threatened on the streets of India? Why is it that eve-teasing in India isn't as harmless a thing as it is here? Personally, I feel a marked difference between men there and men here. Out here, men may look, whistle, call out and that's okay. You know they're funning, they know they're funning and it ends there. In India, I always felt like there was something sinister lurking behind every time a man so much as looked in my direction (I am talking of a certain type of man here so hold your horses). There was something rather unsettling in that gaze, in their voices, their manner...

The trouble is, one cannot put a finger to it. It's just a feeling. But it's there. Why?

Pride

A trifle late, but such momentous things must be commemorated and celebrated.

Other people have said it before and better than I, and I don't have anything to add. What I do have to tell you is that up until I went to work on Friday morning my reaction had been one of pleasant surprise, quiet admiration and silent pride.

But then I started to say to my boss "Oh, I don't know if you heard the news but ..." and between then and finishing the sentence my eyes were shining with fierce pride. I'm just so proud of my country for doing the right thing.

While it may still take ages for society to accept homosexuality with equanimity, at least there won't be any hide-and-seek being played anymore because, hey, the law says it's okay! Those who oppose can go take a hike, preferably off a cliff.

Although, if at the age of near-80 my grandmother can be educated about homosexuality by my aunt and react with giggles rather than express shock or anything, I do think there is hope, a lot it. :)