HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY

PROLOGUE

Today would mostly start with a live relay of a septuagenarian within the safe confines of a bullet proof cabinet, delivering a speech which would make a 4^th Grade student’s essay on “Dream Nation” look more plausible. Next we excavate those translucent white kurtas (subtle metaphor for patriotism it seems) from below the debris   of Van Heusens & Peter Englands in our cupboard, only to flaunt in the Flag hoisting ceremony at our alma maters. The journey to our alma maters is characterized by banters of desperate RJs hurling patriotic trivia & songs at us from every radio station.

Then the flag hoisting with a spirited rendition of the National anthem ends on a sweet note, courtesy Caramilk(a provision store relic). Then we have over enthusiastic alumni deliver articulated lectures about why culture & folklore are more important than android phones & GDPs. Thus begins our patriotic rigmarole on the august day.

FREE ARE WE AS INDIANS?!

Lets start with freedom in movies for a start, If the movie's font is arabic or the protaganist has a beard without a moustache....the movie's anti-islam-ban it!...if the protagonist utters any word which bears remote similarity to a political figure’s moniker or is shown contesting election(even if in college)-the movie's politically incorrect-ban it! When our political mechanism has broken down huge stars with the ease of a fragile twig, what chance do we lesser mortals even stand in our Constitution backed freedom of expression!

Art isn’t far from the long arm of our Political guardian angels either- If a famous painter depicts a Goddess in a semi nude state, we ensure he is rusticated from the land. Ironically though, ancient architecture in most of the temples depicts Gods & Goddesses in similar manner.

If an author dares to take on a religious issue in his fictional book in a gutsy manner, he instantly is made an apostle of Satan in public domain & his citizenship is severed like bad friendship.

With the freedom of expression of a common man becoming thinner at a more alarming rate than the ozone layer, If someone mentions a political proper noun in bad light in social network or even a inter cubicle conversation, he can be rest assured of a rendezvous with Arnab Goswami or brief internship behind the bars.

INDEPENDENT ARE WE AS INDIANS?!

Lets talk about how independent we are at a grass root level taking into account very mundane things for instance, we Indians are genetically programmed to look upto people with good spoken English abilities with scant regard to their intelligence…like an unwise customer picking up a branded vessel with a hole in the bottom. We look down upon someone mispronouncing an English name like a dung beetle, only to enjoy Geoff Boycott’s carnage of Indian names like connoisseurs.

More often than not when we talk about movies in public space, we flaunt names of unheard of Egyptian/Spanish/Korean/Russian movies with the pride of a newly married woman gossiping about her loan funded honeymoon. Notwithstanding this we celebrate 100 Years of Indian Cinema, where we make a tribute movie helmed by reputed auteurs, only to be diagnosed as a rip-off!

Despite being in a tropical country, we dress up like Louis Philippe mannequins to make our sweat glands work overtime. And if the wardrobe buffoonery wasn’t enough, we assign anglicized alter egos to burn midnight oil for our living, so that westerners learn to use their home appliances.

 

UNITED ARE WE AS INDIANS?

The only time we are genuinely united together as a nation is when Sachin’s batting or India is in a good position in the second innings of a match. Another occasion we display unity in diversity is when the news about a politician’s multicrore scam hogs limelight or Rahul Gandhi tries to make a political statement, this is when everyone suddenly seem so opinionated & awakened. Barring this flickering display of patriotism on these stray occasions, every state seems to be an isolated mini nation with its own agenda. While public holidays & bribery seem to be a common thread linking the entire nation, the legality of prostitution changes from state to state.

EPILOGUE:

As on date our pan Indian feeling seems to be a shallow concept that is characterized by either pilgrimages to places ripe with religious heritage or sin-dissolving dips in holy waters that transport corpses or art of living workshops where saffron clad urban babas teach us life altering things like importance of eating bananas . Not to forget our uniform liking to ayurvedic massage spas or failed attempts to smuggle pickles  past terminals in foreign soil or our favourite national past time of talking about the gutter, our political system has become.

Being patriotic doesn’t just end with Ben Kingsley’s Gandhi on playlist or standing up when the anthem is played, it’s a mental state where we accept the nation with its share of flaws without making a laundry list of lacunae…like a mother’s unconditional love for her son. Till then August 15^th would just be another cosmetic public holiday when pizza joints gives us buy 1 get 1 offer!

Sore Throat- My Vishwaroopam story

PROLOGUE:

This isn’t about Kamal Hasan’s acting prowess, this isn’t about his legion of hardcore fans including me nor is it a factual dissection of the controversy over the ban on the film-Vishwaroopam. This is a memoir of the travails I undertook to make sure I watched the movie at any cost and the myriad experiences that ran across the mind asserting my relation with my matinee idol over the years as the miles in the journey kept multiplying with my bank balance and luck dwindling at a disturbing rate.

My dad had recommended a book called “The Secret” which talks about how the entire universe conspires to make you get what you desire, If you desire it from the bottom of your heart. I got to understand this concept explained in the book through this trip, though not pretty sure about how proud my dad would be about where I applied the same.

HOW IT STARTED:

Bookings for the movie set to release on the 25^th starts as early as 18^th night and before I could get a hold of myself, adrenaline gets the better of me and I end up booking for all five shows for the First Day(ironically I’m not a patron of the concept of overtime in work front).

As the release day nears the guilt of abysmal showing in my recently concluded exams gets dwarfed by Thalaivar hysteria from within and outside. That’s when the ban on the movie happens, as a micro mini section of anti-social elements get offended by their fantasy of the yet to be released movie being anti-them. Suddenly I’m a victim of animosity towards anyone from that community. Maybe that’s how a seasoned rationalist turns into a extremist in a jiffy for a strong personal reason, reasons my inner voice. All the lessons on democracy during the economics period from school time suddenly seem like an exercise on redundancy in a country filled with “touch-me nots” who have their individual remote controls to obstruct democracy.

It does always help to have wise friends with dated sense of humour at times of crisis, the inferno within cools down paving way for logical alternatives to tackle the ape of a mind from misbehaving. So I thought of the following course of actions to take:

Alternate #1 : Go on social networking sites, indulge in some finger pointing, get into some nasty arguments , express views, quote situational lyrics from the movie’s title track and feel self gratified like participating in WWE through play stations.

Alternate #2: For a person, who I look upto as my ideological Godfather would spitting into a common pool to show solidarity suffice or should I do something more worthwhile to show my love & respect. The Mission Telugu land is born!

MISSION TELUGU LAND- CHENNAI→VIJAYAWADA→HYDERABAD→NELLORE→ DISAPPOINTMENT→BACK HOME→PROUDER FAN

Along with my fellow kamalians- Naresh & Gautham, I embark on an overnight trip to Hyderabad where the movie is set to release. The air of mutual ridicule for this insanely mad decision makes way for typical hitting below the belt- guys banter with least regard to a senior citizen’s presence in the opposite berth in our lush sleeper coach heading to Vijayawada.
The news of the movie not releasing in Hyderabad reaches Vijayawada before our bus does. Over breakfast we brainstorm in unison to arrive at a decision to leave to Nellore from there to watch the movie after checking the schedules there.(god bless the visionary who made the cellphone smart with “apps” galore.)
Crusaders-I wouldn’t flatter ourselves, madmen- we almost were there….but diehards-we totally fitted the bill! Why else would this logistical/economical nightmare be vetoed by adults trained to advise other people on how to plan their finance?!
Thus we were enroute Nellore on a bus, which could best be described as one with moderate locomotive abilities on  two and a half wheels. Trusting our karma more than the greenhorn driver who was parallelly evolving into a full fledged driver with every passing Kilometre all of us took a power nap.
My subconscious mind gets questioned in my sleep by my brain’s logical side as to whether this pointless madness is worth it?! Offended, my subconscious mind takes me down my memory lane to my first year in the world-Where am I??....I’m in a dark theatre playing some movie disturbing audience rightfully like every newborn does by crying. Crying stops suddenly when a face appears on the large screen- It is Kamal Hasan & that’s where the eternal connection began ,at Aboorva Sagotharargal  in Kasi Theatre.

Bent on proving the brain’s conclusion erroneous, my subconscious mind takes me to my first few years as a kid & what did I do as toddler- chose a video cassette of “Singaravelan” over Funskool products unlike my fellow toddlers of that era. During my formative years, that movie was my alarm clock,routine, break from routine, my bribe for having healthy average tasting food and my lullaby.Had I watched “Thuruvilaiyadal” that many times instead,I might have  had a limited edition pass to Mt Kailash to rendezvous with Lord Shiva.
I wake up as proud Kamalian after revelations  from the ‘brain vs sub-conscious mind’ showdown in my memory lane.

We reach Nellore with the contingency looming large over the movie’s release yet again. Still we make it to the theatre expecting the nature to conspire some miracle out of the blue in honour of our persistence, but like acquaintances of a sinking patient outside the ICU we were getting prepared for the bad news.As expected the movie’s released got stalled & we had to return back to Chennai, heavier than when we left with bundles of disappointment.
Just when everyone around us thought the madness has settled down, the news of the movie releasing in Bangalore on Sunday come as whiff of fresh air to a panting sprinter. We wanted to go as the same group again, but Naresh had an “official” reason to back out of our road trip on Sunday. So this time around the wolf pack consisted of just Gautham and me & thus was born Mission Bengaluru!!

MISSION BENGALURU-
CHENNAI→BENGALURU→VISHROOPA DARISANAM→BACK HOME→MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

Our road trip begins in the nocturnal hours of Sunday, with Gautham driving his Girl friend equivalent i20 to the tunes of Vishwaroopam songs playing in endless loops. “God(Krishna) I pray to you that to give strength to my Thalaivar at these testing times and make sure the movie releases this time for sure in Bengaluru”.

Wait a sec…God!...thinking about God my mind slips into another purposeful trip down the memory lane as I fall asleep with Vishwaroopam songs being replaced by a pretentious tamil rap song with notorious lyrics likening girlfriends to various home appliances.

Where am I this time and what am I upto??....I’m with my uncle amidst a group of saffron kurta clad “sadhus” and septuagenarians on a seemingly endless pilgrimage(that I was arm twisted to attend in return for a fancy gear cycle), hopping from one holy place to another in pursuit of God within, paradoxically! This was our modus operandi in every place-The Guruji discusses the pastimes of the regional version of God in each respective Dham(religious place). This was followed by a graphical account of unfortunate demises of the Demons at the Lord’s hand and the metaphor of Demon used to describe normal civilians indulged in materialistic activities (such as going to office, driving a car, loving one’s family, eating onion and garlic, watching movies) and the dire consequences they had to face for their blasphemy in hell after life. The motto of the pilgrimage was to regard loving God as the highest purpose of our lives.

Then the event that would change my opinion on God forever happens- “Anbe Sivam” releases. The question I was looking for an answer throughout the entire duration of the pilgrimage gets a strong answer-“Love is God!”The ideals of the protagonist deeply get embedded in me forever. The religious accessories and rigmarole become redundant to me forever. Post that movie-I still love God….but I learn to see him in acts of love and stopped seeing harmless onions and cars as apostles of Satan.

I wake up to the revelations about my retrieved reformation from a God fearing person to a God loving one as we breeze into the beautiful city of Bengaluru.

We reach a multiplex with a not so subtle name called “Rockline Cinemas” and yes,the schedules are very much on-the forbidden fruit is available on platter and we succeed finally-Vishwaroopam it is!!

The movie begins to play as we are unable to handle the over dosage of excitement flowing in our nerves, Thalaivar manifests on screen and our primal alter ego takes over and we jump and scream like how a marooned man would at the sight of a ship as the cosmetic layer of civilisation detaches paving way for the organic alter ego!!

Then the epic action sequence that gave me my sore throat happened in which Thalaivar performs high voltage stunts in a set piece which alone was worth the ticket price ….I gave my loudest cheer ever and lost my voice temporarily!

Then we returned back home, heavier than when we left….but this time with bundles of contentment notwithstanding the hoarse timber of my voice and my amateur attempts at dumb charades.

EPILOGUE:

Under normal circumstances the trips we embark on usually take us to destination from where the places and people remain etched in our memory, but there are those rare trips where our mind takes a nostalgic road trip across various phases of our lives, blurring out every material manifestation we came across in that trip. This trip would always belong to the latter category, a prized memento in my memory trove reminding me of a time where I made inferences listening to my inner self.

I have experienced sore throat a million times in my life as a result of excessive indulgence in menial cold things like ice creams and cold drinks, but this sore throat took was memorable and would remain a cornerstone event of the year 2013 in my life forever, thanks to Thalaivar for the events that culminated to it.