Sunday, 31 July 2016

#MovieReview:#Sultan

Movies are becoming rarer and more difficult to go to, what with the heavy demands of the job I currently have! If I am giving my ‪#‎moviereview‬ on #Sultan two weeks after its release, I must most certainly find another hobby. Maybe do a cooking channel on YouTube but for that I must have a kitchen. And time, that scarce commodity! 
So anyway, Sultan, a sports and romance film, turned out to be predictable and a bit too long! That's the first thing. Second, it has Salman as an actor, not as a flamboyant star; naughty, heart warningly childish, man of indefinite age, but as a mature man of the world, who has seen life as an idle kite-flier, a village jester, a general wastrel! But when love strikes, everything undergoes a metamorphoses. it brings a purpose in his life. A serious purpose; to prove his worth, raise his self-esteem, not just to deserve the girl ( Anoushka) of his dreams, but also to earn respect in his own eyes! He achieves all that he could ever have imagined; rising to state, national and international acclaim as a wrestler and marries the girl responsible for his turnaround. But he has his rough edges and as with ordinary mortals, success goes to his head and he loses it all! But unlike lesser mortals, life provides him with a second chance! Upar Allah, neeche Dharti, beech me Tera Zameer! Can there be any doubt about the way the saga unfolds? 
The movie is otherwise well made. Great visuals, wrestling rings, dangal style, from rural heartland to dingy gyms in old Delhi's by-lanes, the movie captures it all, most realistically. The wrestling bouts are well shot and the Haryanvi flavour provides bits of raw humour! All sequences fall into place. Anoushka had the promise of a great role, but it fizzles out, mid-stream. Not because she couldn't handle it, but because the story didn't quite treat her character properly. Or maybe it's the real life dilemma of a progressive woman, who gets sacrificed at the altar of marriage and motherhood and is relegated to the background in life! Character artistes in the movie have all done a great job, Salman's friend Gopal, Anoushka's dad, the second innings coach of Salman, Randeep Hooda, who is slaying some of his own personal ghosts, Wrestling league promoter, all great! The stunts are entirely credible but the songs are intrusive. They just seem unnecessary, prolonging the flashback narrative, making you squirm in your seat with the pace of the movie, particularly in the first half! 
For me, @Sultan was an unusual experience! I love @Salmankhan in his stupid, mindless, flamboyance, with that ridiculous, incredible, shirt-throwing, dancing genius. There are few glimpses of that in Sultan. For most parts it is a serious role and Salman does full justice to it! But what to do about a fan who wants Dabang style buffoonery, that grips your heart and turns it inside out, that child-like man staying in your mind much after the movie is over! I found that missing. No excitement, no going overboard, no hai-Salman type hyper-reaction! Bit sad, but it's OK! Even children grow up, mature and you got to accept it. This is Salman's first mature movie! At least in a long long time! Let's celebrate that!!

Wednesday, 27 July 2016

As I slay my ghosts

Plain, simple looks, 
almost sickly appearance, 
Narrow set eyes
Almost gawky, 
Like a poster boy of some far away, 
strife torn, tribal land
Malnourished,
Unnoticed and rejected
at home, by father and all else
Unimpressive in school,
in studies in debates
or anything extra,
I make no mark.
Till I almost stop suffering,
immune to all negative, indifferent stimuli
Thankful that the mother provides
some solace.
I grow up, trying to seek approval,
even attention,
get noticed, feel accepted,
Nay some acclaim.
I climb down
From the hills to the sea shore
Hoping for a fair breeze
to blow my 
By and by it does
And I do
But somehow it feels inadequate,
Like my persona!
These seem like half measures,
my longing for more intensifies
As I stand secluded,
Surrounded by those beautiful people,
Those lovely, though painted faces.
Those broad shoulders,
muscled backs, penetrating eyes
Juxtapose and hammer in my own inadequacies
on a daily basis.
Pushing me on
To outdo them in smartness.
It works, it doesn't work
I swing, I struggle
pit goes on
My self esteem often staring vacantly
into my inner spaces
Then it returns
bewildered I set out to prove
It's not I who am inadequate
It's the outer, social space,
so full of incompleteness, hollowness
It's Unwilling, Unprepared meanness
to accept me as their own.
Till I reject them
With all my being.
But again, no one notices
My rejection gets internalised,
Consuming me
Burning me from the core
Till I realise I got to say it
Say it all
Because no one notices
my brilliance,
my internalised rejection
of body beautiful.
Looks matter, after all in this business of beauty
In this make believe cosmos
pivoting around beauty and romance,
Where am I with my internalised rejection?
So I got to get up and say it
Say it all
Ever so often
I hate you
You can't act
You are mediocre
You breed mediocrity
I stand before you
As the pinnacle of brilliance
You don't notice,
Except occasionally,
The women, oh those beautiful eyes,
Curvaceous bodies,
Hare Rama Hate Krishna chanting Hippies
from Woodstock
have eyes only for them,
Not for me.
Even in appreciation, I am academic
They are real!
I need to gnaw, shriek, yell
Yet no adulation comes my way
No swooning, fainting fans follow me
As I yearn for it.
Where are you Oh Father in Heaven
Where does it lead me?
I am your child
Accept me,
Give me a place
Under your sun
For I too walked this street!
This glamour street
Where no one loves me!


As I slay my ghosts

Plain, simple looks, 
almost sickly appearance, 
Narrow set eyes
Almost gawky, 
Like a poster boy of some far away, 
strife torn, tribal land
Malnourished,
Unnoticed and rejected
at home, by father and all else
Unimpressive in school,
in studies in debates
or anything extra,
I make no mark.
Till I almost stop suffering,
immune to all negative, indifferent stimuli
Thankful that the mother provides
some solace.
I grow up, trying to seek approval,
even attention,
get noticed, feel accepted,
Nay some acclaim.
I climb down
From the hills to the sea shore
Hoping for a fair breeze
to blow my way.
By and by it does
And I do
But somehow it feels inadequate,
Like my persona!
These seem like half measures,
my longing for more intensifies
As I stand secluded,
Surrounded by those beautiful people,
Those lovely, though painted faces.
Those broad shoulders,
muscled backs, penetrating eyes
Juxtapose and hammer in my own inadequacies
on a daily basis.
Pushing me on
To outdo them in smartness.
It works, it doesn't work
I swing, I struggle
pit goes on
My self esteem often staring vacantly
into my inner spaces
Then it returns
bewildered I set out to prove
It's not I who am inadequate
It's the outer, social space,
so full of incompleteness, hollowness
It's Unwilling, Unprepared meanness
to accept me as their own.
Till I reject them
With all my being.
But again, no one notices
My rejection gets internalised,
Consuming me
Burning me from the core
Till I realise I got to say it
Say it all
Because no one notices
my brilliance,
my internalised rejection
of body beautiful.
Looks matter, after all in this business of beauty
In this make believe cosmos
pivoting around beauty and romance,
Where am I with my internalised rejection?
So I got to get up and say it
Say it all
Ever so often
I hate you
You can't act
You are mediocre
You breed mediocrity
I stand before you
As the pinnacle of brilliance
You don't notice,
Except occasionally,
The women, oh those beautiful eyes,
Curvaceous bodies,
Hare Rama Hate Krishna chanting Hippies
from Woodstock
have eyes only for them,
Not for me.
Even in appreciation, I am academic
They are real!
I need to gnaw, shriek, yell
Yet no adulation comes my way
No swooning, fainting fans follow me
As I yearn for it.
Where are you Oh Father in Heaven
Where does it lead me?
I am your child
Accept me,
Give me a place
Under your sun
For I too walked this street!
This glamour street
Where no one loves me!