APRIL 6TH , 2011
The Show Must Go on...
About Us
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- CREDITS FOR THIS TOO?
LTGTR is a youth magazine aimed at providing good solid content written primarily by students and young professionals on a diverse and relevant range of topics, and presented in a simple and humorous manner. Unlike other magazines, LTGTR provides a refreshing blend of high quality literature and socially relevant articles which are blatantly honest. The content is neither journalistic nor bookish; rather you shall find it invigorating and stimulating in an otherwise monotonous world. We don’t just present facts; we provide opinions and let you choose the ones you like. LTGTR is “not” a college magazine. It transcends the boundaries of any college and delves into the psyche of Indian youth. It is an endeavor to provide a common ground for people to express their ideas and opinions. It is an opportunity for common people, like me and you, to find like minded individuals. It is an attempt to bring back a culture of reading and writing and prove to you that these things are for the masses and not just for the elite. In a trigger-happy world, in an age where the media is known to sensationalize everything, in a culture where “making money” is the only motivation, LTGTR is an attempt to bring back real journalism and writing. It draws on the ideas of the French revolution “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite” and combines it with inspiration from young revolutionaries who used writing as a way to mobilize the masses. In a world where broken hearts, unfulfilled expectations and death form a major chunk of our thoughts, LTGTR is at attempt to break away and find meaning in life. So I can go ahead and without any regrets state, LTGTR IS A NOT JUST A MAGAZINE, IT IS A MOVEMENT OF THE PEOPLE. IT IS A REVOLUTION, OF SORTS, AIMED AT BRINGING OUT THE REBELS IN US, GETTING THEM TO ASK THE RIGHT QUESTIONS AND FINDING THE ANSWERS. Finally it is meant to keep you happy and entertain you. It is meant to keep the good times rolling.
THE EDITORIAL
The Show Must Go On...
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- SAHIL MEHTA
Y
ep, I’m back to bug you with an editorial yet again. I donno about you but it feels nice to be finally sitting down to write this, the final piece in the jigsaw. It’s been a long overdue issue. I have learnt much in this time. William Shakespeare (Yes. Again!) wrote All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, Clichéd naa? But true nevertheless. If you look around you and search for meaning and reasons as to why things happen, you’ll just end up confused. Sometimes, when “why?” doesn’t have an answer, it’s best to remind yourself of Shakespeare’s lines and get a move on. But there is more than just Shakespeare and his philosophy to showbiz. Acting is a very powerful and creative medium. Stage plays, or good ones at least, have that innate ability to draw you in to the character, to feel the emotion that goes through him, to quiver in their roars and cry with their grief. And stage plays more often than not tackle daily life issues and problems in a way we connect with them. If nothing else, they are genuinely a fantastic source of entertainment. I’m just 21, and I haven’t seen that many plays but I remember all the ones that I have seen. Then there is the thrill on being on stage, of acting, of having the spotlight on you! But is it really possible to pretend to someone else? I don’t think so. I think all the greatest performances, whether on stage or on screen, have been when the actors became one with the character. Acting is more than just memorizing and reading a few lines in a particular manner. It’s just not possible to pretend to be someone else without believing yourself to be them. And this holds true not just for people on stage but even for people who pretend in real life. But there is more to showbiz than just acting or performing. And the “biz” part of it hasn’t been put there for semantics. Art, like everything else, too has been influenced and corrupted by the influence of commercialization and consumerism. Television, in particular has undergone a drastic change in the last few years. We’ve gone from making nice family comedy shows to first insanely stupid and impossibly tragic “saans-bahu” dramas and now degraded it further (never thought it would be possible) by getting people to make a fool out of themselves in the form of reality shows! While often humorous for their stark stupidity and blatant scripting, reality shows sadly bring out a dark, perverted side of the Indian society. A society which has too much idle time and dangerously high voyeuristic tendencies. Ah well! It is what it is. The solution lies with us too; in finding a form of entertainment which does not feed of the tragedies and misfortunes of other people’s lives on TV. But the most important thing about Showbiz, the one lesson to take, one that I’ve learnt the hard way, is that The Show Must Go On. You cannot stop and weep for what is lost in life, just like you cannot stop on a fumbled dialogue on stage. Time doesn’t stop and the audience is waiting. Just play your part as well as you can and revel in the applause at your curtain call!
Contents Interview - AMIT DASANI HOLYDAY - Kartheik Iyer REALITY SHOWS! - Shravya Lahari Book Review - PYGMALION - Sukanya Venkatraman STRENGTH OF CHARACTER - Sayonee Ghosh Roy LAND OF CONSTANT REMEMBERANCE - kartik Gala OBVIOUSLY DEAD - Anuj Suri PANCHARANTAS the legends who made Indian music what it is today
SHIT HAPPENS - Kartheik Iyer KALATAPASVI - Surya Tej Borra ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE - Roopak Khandekar INFINITELY SO - Pradeep Damodara REAL-ITY SHOWS OR REEL-ITY SHOWS? Soundarya Subudhi THE UNWRITTEN DESTINY - Parth Paik BEST OF FACEBOOK
FIVE PLAYS TO SEE BEFORE YOU DIE
AND THE OSCAR GOES TO... a take on this year’s Academy Awards and how they are losing their charm.
Interview
AMIT(RIGHT) WITH HIS FRIEND SUHIT
Amit Dasani
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- Team LTGTR
SHY, HUMBLE AND IMMENSELY TALENTED, AMIT DASANI, A BUDDING MUSIC COMPOSER OPENS UP TO LTGTR ABOUT HIS THEATRE STINT AND HOW IT ALL STARTED. 1. HAS MUSIC ALWAYS BEEN A PASSION FOR YOU? Yes! I think music has always fascinated me. Even when I was little, to just put on headphones and get totally absorbed into the music was better than anything else! 2. WHICH INSTRUMENTS DO YOU PLAY? When I decided that I wanted to learn music, I started off with the piano in school. Then after a few years I stopped that & picked up the tabla. A little bit of the guitar just to understand how it works and the same with the flute and now I am learning Hindustani classical from Mrs. Deepa Naha who has had a huge impact on my tracks. However, what really interests me is getting all the instruments together and composing.
3. YOU WERE STUDYING TO BECOME AN ENGINEER, HOW DID THEATRE HAPPEN TO YOU? When I decided to take up the science, I didn’t get into it because that was what I wanted. I just decided to go with it because I wasn’t sure of what I wanted :P . It was sometime in 11th that my friend from school, Natasha Chandra called me and asked me to help out with a production that she was a part of and that’s how I started theater. It’s also how I met Suhit Chirutapudi , one of my closest friends now and also an equal partner in composing. Since then, Suhit and I have been composing music for different groups. 4. HOW DID YOUR PARENTS REACT TO YOUR UNCONVENTIONAL CAREER CHOICE? They were and still are extremely supportive. It’s their unconditional support that makes me work harder and prove myself. 5. TELL US MORE ABOUT SIFAR, THE THEATRE GROUP YOU WORK FOR? We (Suhit and I) have worked with SIFAR on two productions so far - Sense and Park . During this time, we interacted with Feroze and Junaid from the group. It’s great fun working with them because they come up with interesting scripts and great ideas for the kind of music they want. There is always something different when you work with them! Also, they are brilliant at what they do! (Feroze directs and acts and Junaid works on the Lighting) 6. HAVE YOU DONE ANYTHING ELSE APART FROM MUSIC COMPOSING? I started off by helping with the music in the first ever play that I was a part of. Then Natasha, Suhit, I and a bunch of friends started “Ingenium” in 2008 and opened with” Lion King “ It was one of the first musicals to be staged here and we had a great response. I co-directed some of the Ingenium productions and also composed the music along with Suhit for these. I also directed a play for DPS Hyderabad, which was great fun! 7. HOW DO YOU BALANCE YOUR ACADEMICS WITH THEATRE? To be frank, my first priority is music and theater right now so if have a good project to work on, then that gets my full attention ;) 8. ANY OTHER INTERESTS APART FROM MUSIC? I am fascinated with all forms of art. I love photography and sketching too! I’m not that good at them but it’s fun! 9. ANY OTHER UPCOMING PROJECTS? Maybe in a few months. I have exams coming up :P 10. HOW IS THE THEATRE SCENE IN HYDERABAD? HOW CAN THE YOUTH BE MORE INVOLVED IN IT, IN YOUR OPINION? There are so many new theater groups in Hyderabad and while there are many well established theater personalities that offer class acts, there is a nice burst of energy with a lot of young groups putting up great performances. So all in all, the theater scene looks good! 11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE QUALITY OF TODAY’S THEATRE AND MOVIES? I think there is good variety of different kinds of plays and films out there now for different people and they all put in lots of hard work into it. 12. WHO IS YOUR INSPIRATION? YOU ARE A HUGE RAHMAN FAN, AREN’T YOU? Like I said, music in itself fascinates me and that is what drives me to get deeper into it and learn more. I am a HUGE fan of A R Rahman! He changed the face of Indian Film music! 13. WILL YOU TRY BREAKING INTO THE BOLLYWOOD SOMEDAY? Still a loooong way to go :) 14. YOUR ADVICE TO TODAY’S YOUTH ON CHOOSING A CAREER? Just follow what they like doing but back it up with a lot of effort
Holyday
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- KARTHEIK IYER
T
he long, empty corridor was long, and empty. Slashes of vivid colouring stood stark against the peeling paint, and the whitewash beneath, a testament to events of the past, a wordless tribute to the martyrs of yesteryear. One old wooden door, slightly ajar, seemed to creak of its own volition. Apart from that, all that was still continued being still. The door, stained with a blotch of vivid crimson, now drying to a more forensic brown, creaked once more, and then opened by a fraction of an inch. A wary eye proceeded to survey the surroundings with all the caution of one who has had to grow accustomed to such surroundings, and survive. And surviving was not easy, the vultures were all well fed, and lay about on the roofs and turreted roofs, unable to move a flaccid wing until it was time for feeding again. And yet, today was the day of reckoning. There were no two ways about it. He stepped out, still crouched, till he appeared almost bent double, and once again surveyed his surroundings. Almost all of the doors were ajar, the rooms empty. Casualties. He sighed, and then stiffened again. Wariness was his code, and he lived by it, and it, in turn, had allowed him to live to see another day. Almost involuntarily, his hand went down to feel the reassuring bulge in his pockets, he was loaded. Although what his pittance in the way of ammunition would accomplish, he didn’t know. Or rather, he didn’t want to think about it. Once he was on the field, things would work themselves out. They always did. He stepped out completely. No overhead missile came at him, the range was too less, and yet, there was no shortage of trigger happy adolescents, heedlessly drawn into this merciless fray. He would have felt sad, if he had the capacity to feel anything any longer, but this was neither the time nor the place for it. With another crouching movement, he sprinted forward, his hands never leaving the vicinity of his pockets, like a quick-draw pistolero, the blisters at his feet causing him an endless amount of agony.
He came to a bend, and paused. Not the way a truck does, when it reaches a pit stop, but like a cat being offered a fish, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to spring either way. There were two unprotected entrances, either of which could house his enemies, which, at this point, was anybody who was not him. He breathed lightly, and reassured himself. The opening would most likely be empty. Who would be lurking so far from the epicenter of activity? He turned and strafed lightly towards the bend, and then, suddenly, knew he’d made a mistake. Of course they would be there, the scavengers. Always on the lookout for easy prey. Darn it. Now, his back was turned towards them. They couldn’t have been in a better position if they’d asked him to dress up in the costume of a duck and hold a bull’s eye. And as he stood and thought of all this, his body screamed at him to take some kind of action. Move, damnit. He felt it on his back. Aim for the biggest target, that way, you’ll take something out, even if you miss. They had taught him, and now the hunter was the prey. Desperately, he twisted away, bending at the knees and pivoting on one foot till he was level with his assailants. Something brushed past his shoulder, and burst a short distance away. He felt his shoulder being showered with the fallout, sudden warmth. With a single bound, he reached the other opening and ducked inside. He touched his shoulder, and his hand came away wet, stained with red. He was hit. He swore under his breath, and then caught himself. Never lose your cool, son. He braced himself, and thought of what to do next. He spotted an inside passage, the way it was leading seemed to suggest that it met the outside world at the other opening. Good, he thought grimly. This is just what he wanted. But what if they wanted him to come this way, baiting him on with no other choice, till he would find both exits closed off, and then… he did not want to think about it. He sprinted off into the darkness. Soon enough, he saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and the silhouette against it. Blending into the surroundings, he hoped that the silhouette was alone. With one quick movement, he snuck up on the unknown factor, and grappled him from behind. The assailant brought up another of the things he had initially used as a projectile, an oblong, green shape that he knew all too well. Was he insane? If he uses it in such confined surroundings, neither of us will survive. Desperately, he wrestled the thing away, and then spotted an entire bucket of the things lying nearby. Bloody hell. With one lunging movement, he bodily lifted up his opponent, and threw him towards the bucket, not heeding his frantic screams, and ran. The repercussions must have shaken the entire building. How did he get hold of such a crapload of firepower anyway? Something was wrong. As he got closer to the entrance of the building, things just seemed to get worse. The streaks of red on the wall did nothing to assuage his confidence, but he had no other choice. Whatever was in his pockets seemed pitifully inadequate now. Bodies lay on the ground, clothing tattered, faces black and blue, distorted out of all recognition. He might have even known some of them. He felt sorry that he could not feel sorry for them. Not now. And then he was out. The first thing that that assailed him was the awful noise. Then his eyes adjusted to the light, and the whole fray spread itself out in front of his eyes. Deadly in its intensity. He had not imagined that so many people had gotten involved in the rising. Even women and children had been dragged into it. Could nobody be spared? He darted out. If he could get the ringleaders, maybe the carnage could be reduced, some victims spared. Amidst the crowd, he spotted a face. One that he knew well. The color drained from his face as he
saw the state it was in. One half of his entire face and body was stained red. He ran to meet him, shouting, screaming that he was here, he could help, but before he could reach, the body was engulfed in a wave of other bodies, obscured, and ceased to be an entity. What was no longer visible no longer existed. And now their eyes turned on him. In the excitement, the heat of the motion, the passion of being in furious motion, the crowd behaved as a single organism, and he was the odd one out. Missiles showered on him like rain, coming from all directions, heedless of what should happen if it hit anybody else. He ducked, and they whistled harmlessly overhead. He ran aimlessly through the crowd, throwing it into disarray, using whatever reflexes his quickly tiring body would permit him, getting dyed red in the process. Some of it his own, the rest from the people around him. He felt a tugging presence near his waist. He turned back, and to his horror, saw that it was a woman. His code, even in such times, prevented him from any action against the fairer sex. He desperately tried twisting away, but to no avail. With a crazed look in her eyes, she pressed the lever of her instrument, a spray of liquid burst out, red as the setting sun, the moment it embedded itself against his skin. Apparently satisfied, she trundled away, looking for her next victim. Someone, caught him as he staggered forward, a complete stranger in a sea of chaos, a holy crusade, where it did not matter on what side you were on, as long as you wore the robe of colours that the field bestowed on all of the indulging parties. He was released, and staggered forward, a red handprint on his torso the only remnant of the chance encounter. He did not even remember the face. He struggled on, his body performing the motions required of him mechanically, twisting, turning, throwing, dodging, as soon, he resembled anyone else in the crowd. His foot slipped in a puddle of red liquid, and he fell, peacefully exempted from all further activity. It was a holy, holey, holie, holi, day.
Reality Shows!
-SHRAVYA LAHARI
The room is not very well lit, you feel suffocated and cornered. Try as hard as you can, but there is just no appeasing the demons. As if one of them wasn’t good enough, there were two of them. The twin shiny bald heads don’t seem quite as amusing once their owners start to make you strip, dance, cry, beg, scream… Why are thousands of people thronging to the auditions of a show that has captions like ‘Hell Down Under’ and ‘Shortcut to hell’? Why would you agree to make a fool out of yourself on national television and push your physical, mental and emotional limits to no end? Is it the money, the fame or just the opportunity to prove your worth? Though many participants cite the third, I guess it’s the cumulative enticement of the first two that makes many reality shows awfully attractive to today’s youth. Those of you who follow Roadies 8 would definitely know Dev, the guy who has been auditioning in every damn city, every year, for six years! Now what would you call him- crazy, obsessive, determined, or simply possessed? Roadies is just one among the several reality shows that have consistently been gaining popularity since the last decade. Now several channels are literally inundated with as many reality shows as soaps. Reality shows came as a refreshing change to the average Indian television viewer, who had long become accustomed to tear jerker TV serials. The inspiring display of talent, the liberating sense of achievement, the acceptance of failure, the possibility of a world where you could be whoever you want to be- all this and more captured in a reality show makes people connect well to them. Several people get carried away and forget that these programs just show “a slice of life portrayed by people who simply act like they are expected to act.” Some old shows like KBC and Khulja Sim Sim (my favorites as a kid!) are actually quite amazing. They award the deserving (or the lucky) and are quite exciting to watch too. Also, reality shows based on talent like Jhalak Dhiklaja, Dance India Dance, Boogie Woogie, Indian
Idol, India’s Got Talent, The Great Indian Laughter Challenge etc. provide a great platform to budding artists. But, I just wish they would tone down the drama a bit. Trying to show a romantic angle between participants, or judges screaming their heads off at each other or worse still, judges breaking down while praising a performance- there is no end to what they would do to add masala to the show and shoot up the TRPS. I’m not saying all of it made up, but there is no denying the fact that some of it is. I guess, as long as it is not overdone, it is good to watch. Some of the adventure based reality shows like Khatron Ke Khiladi and Iss Jungle Se Mughe Bachao have quite a few takers. Personally, I would rather watch some crazy guy jump through a ring of fire or down a bowl of cockroaches than endure shows like Rakhi ka Swayamvar or Big Boss. It truly amazes me how pointless and pretentious some ‘reality’ shows can get! What some shows portray as acceptable and maybe even ‘cool’ behavior is quite alarming. The more abusive, uncouth and twisted you are, the more attention you get and the better are your chances of winning. Young and impressionable people following such shows devotedly seem to think it is alright to back stab your competitors, manipulate others and use abusive language. Shows like Splitsvilla and Truth Love Cash show dating in such a nauseating angle! ‘Couples’ pledge their undying love after being on the show for 2 days and the double standards that most participants have/portray is beyond belief. Though not everyone might agree, many reality shows make it a point to choose only good looking people to be a part of the show. Now, how fair that is for a show based purely on your talent or your survival skills is definitely arguable. The producers should try to be unbiased and give a great platform to the most deserving candidates. Also, I never really got this concept of viewers voting to decide who wins a reality show. Isn’t it obvious that the guy with a bigger social circle and whose friends and family try hardest to scrounge votes from everywhere would win? Then the whole point of the show is lost! Many Indian shows are total rip offs of foreign reality shows (Most of them have copyrights). I just wish they would choose better ones to copy. Maybe shows like While You Were Out, 30 Seconds To Fame, What Not To Wear, Whose Line Is It Anyway or Project Runway. From the look of it, Reality shows are only going to get bigger, better and glitzier. Whether you love it or you hate it, brace yourselves- because Reality TV is here to stay! HERE TO STAY?
Pygmalion T
-SUKANYA VENKATRAMAN
he thing about a play is that it is essentially a conversation between people. It has none of the inconsequential beautification of the surrounding environment to give it more importance than it deserves, shifting focus only to shift it back to the protagonist in an attempt at suspense unless, of course, it is an aid to bring out the mood of the characters... in which case it’s justified. It is a rather exact portrayal of our lives, in a series of epiphanies and thinking-out-loud sessions. This is what makes a play interesting, well-moving and at the same time, difficult to write. Shaw, however, is a natural. Pygmalion, a romance in five parts, is, in its essence, a play about different kinds of romance - the passionate Dr. Higgins and his romance with phonetics, the flower-girl Liza and her romance with the middle class’ English language, her father Mr. Doolittle and his romance with poverty, along with the gentle-hearted and good-natured Mr. Pickering, the sensible house-maid Mrs. Pearce who works for Dr. Higgins, and Dr. Higgins’ mother Mrs. Higgins. The play is beautifully written and in the series of conversations that take place, the characteristics of the conversationalists are revealed. The beauty, however, lies in the way Shaw has justified every layer of society - the poor, the middle class, and the upper middle class - without ever sounding defensive. An attempt to tell the world that people are happy the way they are, that trying to change their worlds in pursuit of betterment results in the same only in the eyes of the world, and not in theirs. However, what is the world without its series of attempts at change? One can take an instant dislike to Dr. Higgins with his chauvinism and cold-heartedness, his disregard to anyone but himself... but at our cores, don’t we all have a little of Dr. Higgins we attempt to conceal? What he is, however, is honest; which is exactly what draws one to the character. The meeting of the various characters is so random that it is believable. One doesn’t need to make a special attempt to relate to the play, it comes naturally. Shaw’s insights into society and its ways are refreshing, albeit being a little judgmental. There are the small comments inserted in seemingly unimportant places, and then there are the long-drawn justifications. It gives one just the right amount to think about, with the periodic chuckles and smiles. In short, a delight to read.
- SAYONEE GHOSH ROY
Really, do you think Dabangg would’ve been such a huge hit if it wasn’t for Chulbul Pandey’s eccentric personality? Often, they’re the focal point around which the plot builds itself. Take Harry Potter or Eragon for example. Notice that I do not include The Lord of the Rings here because I believe that Tolkien, genius of a man, doesn’t play favourites. Read The Two Towers if you want proof. Although the trilogy essentially follows the trials and tribulations of Frodo, it also digresses and intrudes into the lives of other characters as well. Because Frodo is just, although significant, a small patch in the vast milieu of the history of Middle Earth. An epiphany here: does life imitate art or does art imitate life? How many times do you say, “Pshaw! Stuff like that just happens in the movies. It’s not for real. It’s just entertainment!” But when something does happen, you say, “Woah!!!! It’s just like in the movies!!!!” My point here is, do you fall in love with the annoying guy who trails you while backpacking through Europe just because it happened to Raj and Simran in DDLJ? Or did Raj and Simran fall in love because that is something that can totally happen in real life? You’re deaddrunk, you’re Devdas. You’re drawn towards your family’s sworn enemy’s ward, you’re Romeo/Juliet. And don’t lie, how many times have you tried out the Christ Redeemer-esque scene from Titanic? Sometimes the line between real and reel blurs, or you just probably wish it did and that’s why we’re drawn towards such things.
Ever wondered why movie stars and television actors receive so much adulation? Apart from the fact that they’re seen by people the world over and people want to get to know them, they are basically remembered for the characters they play. It might touch a chord somewhere deep down; you can perhaps draw parallels between your life and the character’s or you’re just generally appreciative of the trajectory of the character’s development. Sometimes you wish the characters you read about would jump out from the pages and come to life! (God knows I’d like that to happen to Mr. Darcy!). I’ve decided to pay a tribute to all those wellfleshed representations of the varied and expansive I believe that a character can be permutations human nature that have ingrained themselves into and combinations of any trait - even opposing ones the collective consciousness. - because hey, it’s human nature! It’s a choose-asCharacter maketh a man but characters often you-please from the entire gene pool. Now, have saveth the plot! It’s often seen that though the plot you ever wondered what would happen if you were has gaping loopholes or is generally insipid, you to transpose the traits of two characters and see tend to overlook that if the character is memorable. where it would lead them? Take cocksure, fiery,
and impulsive Othello and confused, doubting, under-confident Hamlet, for instance. If Othello was more cautious and carefully weighed all his options before taking a step, like Hamlet, he wouldn’t have fallen prey to Iago’s tricks and Desdemona would’ve lived. On the other hand, if Hamlet trusted his instincts more and didn’t waste any time vacillating, he could’ve killed Claudius instantly and avoided the deaths of Ophelia, Polonius and Laertes. What a masterstroke, Shakespeare! Nobody likes villains in real life but we absolutely worship them on celluloid. Legions of fans will swear by Dracula, Darth Vader or Voldemort. There’s just so much evil in them and they’re ‘fly’ because in the end, they get exactly what they deserve, but they go out in style while doing so. The importance of characters is not determined by the time they’re given in the story, but the impact they have on it. We’re barely just introduced to Tom Bombadil but had he entered the playing field, he would’ve sent Sauron running home to his mommy! And then there are the auxiliary characters, content with playing second fiddle or providing us with amusing digressions. Sherlock would’ve never been so brilliant, if Watson hadn’t been slow. For something to stand out, you need to place it against a foil. Sometimes they hold more interest than the main characters themselves! I, for one, would love a little more of CP3O and R2D2 instead of Luke Skywalker. Now if you talk about character development, you can’t have them living in La-la land. They have to undergo some suffering so that they can come out against all odds. That’s what makes a Charles Dickens novel or one of those ‘Vijay’ Amitabh Bachchan movies. But sometimes writers lose track and in a bid to stretch their characters out, they end up making them a lumpy mess of putty. Don’t you wish that they speed up the story or sometimes just end the dailies they play on your TV? Viewers don’t know just how many more seasons of Gossip Girl they’ll have to watch before Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass finally get together. But if you can do it right, then perhaps they wouldn’t mind ploughing through more seasons before Ted Mosby finally tells his kids how he met their mother.
Now no one’s perfect. Not even fictiously! It’s a cardinal rule that character’s need to have some fatal flaw that’ll make for interesting plot points. Seemingly perfect characters are alright if you are doing a satire and the author is well aware of it. But if the author himself is in denial over it, then ladies and gentlemen, we have what we call a Mary Sue. Bella Swan (yes, you were waiting for the Twilight bashing, weren’t you?) is a perfect example. She’s morose, brooding, generally disinterested with life, yet everybody at school is inexplicably attracted to her, including a vampire. Her only fault is that she trips even on flat surfaces. She says she loves Edward to death and can sacrifice for him to any extent and the normal rules of love don’t apply to them as they’re on a higher plane but she doesn’t want to get married because she’s just not “one of those girls who gets out of high school and gets hitched”! I know I said a character can be anything but sometimes poetic license is taken to staggering levels of absurdity! Sometimes, if you conceive a character that is well ahead of its time, it may or may not be well received. There have been books and movies that were ridiculed during their time but later went on to be heralded as classics. An estimated 50% of people who’ve read Catch 22 hate Yossarian, because they don’t get him. The other half simply loves him! I’m sure Ayn Rand must’ve caused a stir when she came out with The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. I sorely wish Howard Roark, Hank Rearden, John Galt and Francisco d’Anconia were actual flesh and blood! Then you have Jane Austen. At a time when women were to be dainty, well mannered and submissive, she gave us Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse. And if appreciation comes from Sir Walter Scott himself, that’s saying something! Now what does this do for the actors? I said they were immortalized through the characters they play and sometimes people don’t want to remove them from that. Daniel Radcliffe shall always remain The Boy Who Lived. Elizabeth Taylor will always be remembered for Cleopatra, if not her numerous husbands. Vivien Leigh essentially is Scarlett O’Hara. When you say Audrey Hepburn, it’ll always conjure images of My Fair Lady or Roman Holiday. Brad Pitt may be excused but Tyler Durden has firmly stuck to Edward Norton. If you’re lucky, you’ll have several avatars to your credit. Edward Scissorhands, Sweeney Todd, Jack Sparrow, Willy Wonka, Mad
Hatter are just a few milestones on the road of Johnny Depp’s success. And Shahrukh’s various lover boy roles. Naam toh suna hoga? Sometimes their different incarnations compete for more fame. The following sentence is a personal opinion I wish to express. What I’m about to say may be seem blasphemous to some but maybe you’d understand why I have such a hard time accepting Marlon Brando as The Godfather if you just see A Streetcar Named Desire. But it’s not all good always. Poor Robert Pattinson, no matter how hard he tries, will never escape being Edward Cullen. Infact, people don’t even remember him as Cedric Diggory from Harry Potter! (ah well, can’t say I didn’t warn you!) But in the end, characters really are oblivious to the dissection we subject them to because they don’t exist and they hold their own in their own universe. It’s only when we bring them out of it and into ours that they change into dynamic entities. That’s why spoofs are so popular! Making a character do what it would otherwise never do, never fails to tickle the funny bone! Imagine Voldemort asking Snape to grow a moustache because he thinks it’s cool or Batman driving a tin-pot car instead of the Bat-mobile, overwhelmed by recession. So you can fantasize having a Heathcliff pine away from you or a know-it-all butler like Jeeves solving all your problems and save you from being flummoxed. You can hate or love a character, do as you please for “Frankly my dear, they don’t give a damn!”
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he Academy Awards were given out not too long ago amidst much fanfare. Kodak Theater was packed with the who's who of filmdom all curious to bear witness to the eccentricities of the Academy. You see of late all those who know their movies have been losing faith in the Academy. The Golden Globe ceremony, once considered the poor man's Oscar party is now being given a lot more respect in tandem with the decaying levels of respect for the Academy Awards. Let's have a quick little recap. When the trailers for Inception broke out on the internet people went nuts. It was unlike anything they had ever seen before. The trailers were ably supported by a marketing blitz the likes of which fans of the Batman franchise will be familiar with. The Marketing team behind Inception took Viral marketing to a whole new level and ended up generating enough hype for the film to put up solid opening numbers at the Box Office. The movie itself surpassed everyone's expectations and impressed one and all while taking home sweet collections. Job well done Chris Nolan. But it didn't end there. The critics found it mighty impressive and thus began Oscar talk. It was the best film out at the time and most thought it was a likely contender for best picture. But that was months before December and everyone knows December is Indie season. Inception was released at a time when most big studios bring out their big budget all nonsense movies. No Indie maker would dare to release his film against a studio backed biggie. In comes December. The month of Indies and meaningful cinema. Not too many Big Budget studio projects to compete with which means the Indie makers stand a chance to make some money of their own. Let me add here that Avatar was released in the middle of Indie season wiping out every film that it took on. Right then, Indie season. 127 Hours, The King's Speech, The Social Network and The Fighter all released within relatively short intervals of time. All mighty fine films. The films were neatly categorized. The fighter would take home the acting honours for the supporting roles. The Social Network which is flawless in every respect would definitely have the edge over Inception and finally Colin Firth would walk away with the Best Actor trophy. Point to be noted: Colin Firth was a sure shot winner even before his film released. Most of us movie fanatics had read the screenplay beforehand and we knew the screenplay required the actor to have a cyclone of emotions within him and somehow convey that to the viewers without articulation. No overacting like Mathew McConaghisdgwew or however his name's written! Who better to portray subdued emotions and torment than Colin Firth. There are those who firmly believe Firth was robbed of an Oscar last year for his outstanding performance in A Single Man.
- NISHANT BOORLA
Jeff Bridges went home with more of a lifetime achievement award than an actual best actor award. Firth winning this year was as certain as an Indian batting collapse in a power play! But there was nothing definite about the race for Best Actress. Enter: Black Swan.Darren Aranofsky has over the years built up quite a reputation as a skilled maker of intriguing films. His claim to fame being “Requiem for a Dream” - a film considered by many as the greatest drug oriented movie of all time. The only perceived as competition to it is “Trainspotting” by Danny Boyle. And they both were contenders for Best Director! More on that later. Black Swan is the kind of gritty movie we've come to expect from Aranofsky. Anyone who has watched The Wrestler will know how Aranofsky brings the best out of his actors. That's all his movies are about. Great acting, slick direction and razor sharp editing. What he did with Mickey Rourke he achieved with Natalie Portman. He put her back on the map. Under Aranofksy's able guidance Portman excelled and delivered her greatest performance and really the only performance of her's that was taken seriously post “Leon: The Professional”!! As soon as I finished watching Black Swan the first time around I knew we had a lock for Best Actress. It's just one of those things. Like Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight or Christoph Waltz in Inglorious Basterds you just knew Portman's performance was one of a kind. Before I move on, the Oscar for Best Animated Film was a foregone conclusion the moment Pixar announced they were going to make Toy Story 3. This brings me to the hottest Best Picture debate since “Chicago” beat “Gangs of New York” and “The Pianist” in 2002. In what wasn't much of a shock to those who've been following the Oscars for a few years, “The King’s Speech” prevailed over “The Social Network” and a bunch of other films. Although this wasn't as ludicrous as the Academy picking "Shakespeare In Love" over "Saving Private Ryan" in 1998 (yes that happened) it still left a bad taste in the mouth. But as I mentioned, it didn't come as a shock to those familiar with the vagaries of the Academy voters. Here's a short summary: Box office behemoth aside, “Avatar” was a path-breaking achievement in film making. By far the better film over “The Hurt Locker”. But on the side you have Avatar. A movie set to redefine the way films are made, viewed and marketed. 3D. Stunning. Motion capture. "Does that mean a few years down the line we won't need actors anymore?" The movie was too cutting edge, too incredibly advanced for the Academy to take a liking to. And it never helps a film's chances at the Oscars if the US Army loses its battle. On the other hand - The Hurt Locker. American Army. Iraq. An army man's struggle and his grit. Indie. All the right buzzwords. Ding Ding Ding....and the Oscar goes to..... This year: The Social Network. Cutting edge. New age. Facebook. Slick editing that drove home every emotion. Refreshing background score unlike anything we've heard in recent times. Direction that made routine courtroom scenes seem like The Battle of Normandy. Great acting, and above all the best adapted screenplay by far this year. Facebook. As opposed to: The King's Speech. British. A Monarch's tale. Feel Good. Lead Character overcomes impediment. Classical production values. No innovative editing. Far fewer tongue slashing retorts. Old School. British. Now if we eliminate all the other key words and phrases what we are left with is new age Facebook movie versus Old school tale of British Monarchy. And the Oscar went to......
- KARTIK GALA In the depths of India’s untarnished rural landscape is found a lifestyle long forgotten. It mimics a way of living which most of us can associate only with a known fictional world such as Malgudi, as it would seem absolutely absurd to imagine such a place in existence. Interestingly, places such as these are home to the majority of our countrymen. The people staying here are untouched by our tainted words of cynicism or our scarred thoughts that have never known innocence. Conversations among children here do not contain irrelevant imperative references to recently bought gadgets that result in a tussle of power with the monetary value of these items as the arbiter. It is a land of utopia where dreams are unchecked by the evil hands of Conformity, and hopes are not thwarted by the corrupted fangs of Rationality. I was forced into a state of retrospection when I was interacting with a few teachers and students from a high school in Bhuj, Kutch. The enormity of the terrible earthquake in that area had not shaken their resolve; if anything, they emerged stronger, with a renewed sense of enthusiasm that was all-pervasive. Talking with these people resulted in a strange revelation: these young men and women had not been converted by the looming fear of failure. Because of their proximity to the India-Pakistan border, most of them opted for careers in the army, as doctors, engineers, analysts and army officials. Some of their success stories astounded me. Ominous future possibilities held no meaning for them. They never gave a thought to the dangers of the profession they were about to venture into. All they cared was to serve their country and be a part of the ever-present change, and to carve for themselves a niche in the annals of history for being a monumental cause in the process. The commendable aspect of their outlook was their undying resolve to achieve what they wanted, unblemished by any form of pessimism. They made for an outstanding example of new-age citizens, sans the amenities that we take for granted in our urban lives. These underprivileged children taught me how to realize my aspirations so as to be a true hero in my own eyes, as well as others. We want many things to happen. We want our work hours to be shorter and our weekends to be longer. We would like our road traffic to be equipped with a futuristic concept of easy travel, like
teleportation. We long for short queues at the banks as well as the movie theatres. We dream of world peace. The only problem faced is the realization of our aim. Rarely do we ever strive to achieve these goals. We keep waiting for someone to come and lead the way, to be the torchbearer on our journey towards a better tomorrow. If only we paused for a moment to think, the truth will inadvertently dawn upon us that the people in the frontlines are no different from us. We too can champion a cause, if we cast away the cape of self-reproach, and assume a positive approach towards our goals. Our efforts need not be a travesty of hope; we can be the people bringing about the much-needed change. Money is the least of the concerns to the people fighting the actual battle. So are the spoils of war, and all the accolades and post-victory reveling. The only thing that a true warrior ever lusts for is to be remembered long after the fight, as someone who made a difference in its outcome. His goal is to achieve martyrdom, and forever rest in the elusive land of constant remembrance.
Obviously Dead
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-ANUJ SURI
You, the ugly, the impaired, beauty all there, learn to kiss yourself You, impatient for new shoes, a reset button may be, learn to love your pair Off with your clothes and in front of a mirror, stand naked to yourself for once Judge not the curves, fear not the not-so-straight lines, question not their intersections You, oblivious to all inspections, smile at how beautiful you are, yes But let the simplest version of perception, laugh at your imperfection You, the dull blue t-shirt in your closet, you are but your disrespected decision Shunned to the point, it doesn’t want to fit you anymore; you are but your pseudo version You wake up, yes, but wide eyed with words that rhyme, With winning the fight, bridging the gaps all the time You dream, yes, but only of becoming someone else, Unabridged, no one is, revel in the incompleteness You, the cold, the cadaverously unaware, life all there, but you say they blindly misread And this time, for once, blame yourself, for it’s your own eyes that you’ve shed, You, at your best, are still obviously dead……………
-KARTHEIK IYER There comes a time in every man (or woman, we’re not discriminating here), when he is left with only one thought in his mind. ‘Oh. Shit.’ Now, discussing the gamut of peristaltic implications of this statement is not the topic of this discussion. After a long time, we finally have both the time and the inclination to write again, so, O’ imaginary audience, stay glued to your seats. A latin writer/philosopher, rather crude in his representation of strata curricula, remarked, ‘ma gavte la nata’, which, with the most liberal of translations, comes out to mean, please remove the cork. He alludes to the phenomenon of a pompous individual, who, for all intents and reasons, is an excellent chap, yet insufferable, were it not for a cork stuck in his sphincter. Upon decorking, he would deflate and return to being his usual amicable self. But I digress. Where were we?
Oh, yes. We were to talk (a rather witty monologue, actually) about how the worst of things happens to the best of people. Yes, I know all of you are sitting in front of your screens and nodding sagely at this point. The law of averages decrees that all humans are equal. So, if you are a rotten, valueless, shifty-eyed ................................ chap, nature will try to correct its mistake by giving you booze, money and power. If, on the other hand, you a re hardworking, honest, ethical and well mannered,(he’s talking about me, you think) nature shalt make you fat, short and ugly, and decree that thou shalt never get that taxi when you need it.(or that train, bus, auto, chocolate ice-cream, girlfriend, assorted bonus vouchers, or a free sample at that new mall, for that matter). Now, we come to the philosophical component of it. Shit, they say, happens even to the best of people. ‘They’ were slightly off. Shit seems to happen only to the best of people. How else, indeed, can you explain why all those supervillains, villains, and even that nosy noisy chap who lives down the street, maintain a look of perennial constipation upon their erstwhile mugs? Poor guys live their entire lives in the darkness of ignorance, not knowing, not realizing, that the best laxative is granted, the moment that they embrace the light. Other etymological considerations lead to obtuse references. For example, the light at the end of the tunnel, seems to make more sense now, does it not? Other notaries on this unworthy list would include, a shot in the dark (notice this is a hero’s last resort), pissing me off (rather obvious), a miss is as good as a mile (Shakespearean, can you believe it?), all that glitters is not gold (another ‘speare effort), all things must pass (Shakespeare, by now, strikes me as an absolute fanatic), woe is me, and last and greatest, it is better to give than to receive. If you believe that these are out of context, visualize them when you next feel the need for a laxative. Remember, I do not cast these pearls for swine. . Rant #2 – yours truly. not.
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- SURYA TEJ BORRA
he world today just runs on money and business .Theatre and films are also no exception to it. This has led to the degradation of the fundamental philosophy of fine arts which is appreciation. But we can still be fortunate that the film industry has off the beat and art film makers. In this genre the first person I would remember would be Padmashri K Vishwanath. His movies are personification of Classical Indian Fine Arts.It is to the extent that he was conferred the title “Kalatapsvi” which means “ One who treats arts as divine.” Each movie of his is a masterpiece and a milestone in the Indian Cinema. Each movie unveils to us an glittering splendor of Indian Art and Culture. This art icon has 10 National Awards, 12 Filmfare Awards and 10 Andhra Pradesh State Awards to his name. His movie “ Swatimuthyam” was India’s official entry into Oscars in 1986. He won innumerous accolades in many International Film Festivals. South Indian maestro Kamal Hassan himself termed K Vishwanath as a legend and a mangnum opus filmmaker. Here are some of his films which are worth mentioning through the timeline: 1. SANKARABHARANAM (1978): “Sanakarabharanam” is a famous Carnatic Raga. This movie depicts the life and music of a famous Carnatic vocalist who is an authority in this raga. It also quietly depicts the life of a dancer who treats him like his Guru. The movie brings to light the affinity of the Indian society towards Western Music and Dance and consequent negligence of the traditional arts. The movie brings to light the stories of many people who have a struggling life financially who are musicians. It brings to life the passion and dedication the artists show to music. Box office records say that this movie ran for a full house for 2 years continuously.
2. SAGARA SANGAMAM (1984) : Kamal Hassan once said that his best performance is his role in Sagarasangamam. This movie soulfully narrates the life of a dancer who never gets recognition for his talent and desire. The movie also depicts dance as an emotion of human life and existence. Each dance recital in this movie is just picture perfect. The scene in which Kamal Hassan depicts all the 8 forms of Indian Classical Dance is just marvelous. 3. SIRIVENNELA (1986) : This movie is a case study and a research work in many film schools all over India. Sirivennela is a soft silent story of a blind flute artist and his life. Each song of this movie is still performed by many artists in concerts till date.In this movie music is shown as the love and romance between the hero and his ladylove. Many heart touching scenes and eye watering scene which make the movie a benchamark of filmmaking. Hghlights of the movie include flute recitals by Hari Prasad Chourasia. 4. SWARNAKAMALAM (1988) : The movie brings to life the perceptions people posess with respect to arts in the contemporary society. The plot of the movie revolves around an young teenaged girl who is born in family of dancers but hates dancing owing to the her desire for material desires. The rest of the story is how she realizes the greatness of dance through the hero who loves her and her dance. 5. SWATHI KIRANAM (1992) : The movie speaks about different types of people who practice and patronise art. The movie depicts the contrast of people who treat art as their mother and at the same time people who use art as a source of money. The movie narrates the story of a nationally acclaimed vocalist who has appreciable levels of ego and self-esteem and believes that he is the best. One of his disciples who is a prodigy in music becomes a victim of his attitude and commits suicide. Then the vocalist realizes that he is a novice . The standout scene STILL FROM THE MOVIE SWATHI KIRANAM of the movie is the climax scene in which the Singer goes to a music school and starts his journey with music all over again. I would rather end it this way. “Each of the movies of K Vishwanath is a pearl in a necklace gifted to the Divine�
DIRECTOR K. VISHWANATH
All The World’s A Stage
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- ROOPAK KHANDEKAR
The curtains open up before your eyes Your eyes meet the eager eyes of the crowd You let the sights and the sounds sink in And try to figure out what’s happening around Minute by minute, the drama begins to unfold You get shaped by the people and the things around you For human clay they act as a mould Give you a shape to take you through All the world is a stage And your life is just another role in the play The script is not known, you perform extempore As the drama unfolds day by day The sets keep changing; characters come and go As your role gradually gathers flow The sets keep changing; characters come and go by As you explore the world of the how, the what, the why You really don’t know how much in focus you are You don’t know about the keenness of others’ glances But instinct urges you to outdo others or at least be at par So that you don’t regret missing some chances Some characters firmly stick with you throughout your whole act Characters who’ll spoil their roles to keep yours intact You return their favors by returning their support Your chemistry keeps you standing tall like the mightiest of forts New characters join in the play, you show them around Just like the ones who ensured that you started off safe and sound But they aren’t the only ones who need to be shaped and to learn… You should be prepared; you never know which way things may turn All the world is a stage and your life is just another role in the play The script is not known, you’re performance extempore as the drama unfolds day by day If you waste all those joules for nothing, You’re forgotten way before the curtains fall But if you steer others’ play along a better way, You’ll sign off still standing tall.
- PRADEEP DAMODARA
Vague, unclear thoughts fill my mind. I’m walking around aimlessly, mulling over a host of emotions, yet feeling nothing. Among friends, but still alone. I talk, joke, laugh, with a mask of normalcy, all the while harboring an abnormal sense of emptiness. But, it is not a lack of purpose. I know exactly what I’m going to do all day. I’d say it’s more a lack of meaning. A lot of things to take care of, but no particular reason to shoulder said responsibility… and philosophical bullshit fills my head about right and wrong, and the skewed perspective of fairness in the world. So I square my shoulders, shuddering against the cruel, cold wind. And resign myself to my fate. I know I’ll just gripe and complain to myself all day, but in the end I should probably man up and accept it. I’ve got it better than most people, and I still have the audacity to not feel content. I start ‘looking in’ at myself, and I immediately wonder why I’m doing it. Worrying about philosophical mumbo jumbo and unforeseen responsibilities, knowing full well that I have no reason to whine, is really getting on my nerves. And I’m still feeling, well, empty. Having said that, I come to the heart of the matter. Too much introspection makes you realize how hypocritical you can be, even with yourself. I’m sitting here, telling you about my feelings and emotions, all the while maintaining that I’m feeling ‘empty’. Yet, you continue to read, and I continue to pour my heart out. So… the abnormal sense of emptiness. After giving it a lot of thought, wondering who or what could make me feel so, after asking myself over and over again what was wrong, what was I missing in life, where I went wrong, I have an answer. One I can live with. It wasn’t emptiness after all. I’m just bored. Infinitely so.
- SAYONEE GHOSH ROY THIS IS ESSENTIALLY MY WISH-LIST BUT READ ON, IT MIGHT FIGURE SOMEWHERE IN YOURS AFTER YOU FINISH READING. SO SOMEDAY, IF YOU ARE JOBLESS OR RICH ENOUGH TO AFFORD IT, YOU COULD TRAVEL THE WORLD AND CATCH SOME OF THESE CLASSICS AT A THEATRE NEAR YOU! (OR YOU COULD JUST WATCH THE MOVIES, HOLLYWOOD IS VERY CONSIDERATE OF BROKE PEOPLE LIKE US)
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THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA
hristine Daae, daughter of a famous fiddler is a chorus girl at the Paris Opera House. Shortly after her arrival, she hears a beautiful, unearthly voice singing to her. She believes it to be “The Angel Of Music”. The voice however belongs to Erik, a disfigured musical genius who is also, incidentally, one of the Opera’s contractors. He built a home for himself in the cellars and terrorizes the management, parading as ghost or phantom and extorts money from them. Under his tutelage, Christine quickly ascends the rungs of fame and unknown to her, Erik falls in love with her. But Christine is in love with her childhood friend, Raoul. What follows is the quintessential love triangle, interspersed with a little pity and a mild case of Stockholm’s syndrome. Erik kidnaps Christine on Opening Night and takes her down to the cellar, hoping she’ll love him but when Christine unmasks him, overcome with fear she’ll leave him, he plans to hold her there forever. But on her pleading, he releases her, extracting a promise of fidelity from her. Christine tells Raoul of the incident and he promises to whisks her away, to which she agrees. Erik overhears them and is furious and he kidnaps her again, this time forcing her to marry him otherwise he’ll blow up the entire Opera with explosives. He also holds Raoul hostage in the torture chamber. To save him and the people above, she agrees and kisses him. Erik then has a change of heart and lets her and Raoul go free and bids her to be happy. What becomes of poor Erik then? Buy a ticket and see it for yourself! But remember to keep Box Five empty!
CARMEN
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CARMEN
hen a play is named after a person, you know that he/she is the focal point and of supreme importance in the play’s universe. This is the story of Carmen, a feisty gypsy girl who is pronounced under arrest for slashing the face of another woman with a knife, but she seduces her apprehender, a corporal named Don Jose and escapes. Don Jose is punished for his callousness and sent to jail. When Jose is freed, he returns to Carmen who asks him to join her gypsy life. Although he’s tempted, he refuses. He’s about to leave when his superior comes in search of Carmen. He mutinies and flees with her, along with a band of smugglers. Gradually Carmen grows tired of Jose and taunts him to go back to his village, which he does, when he hears of his mother’s illness. When he returns, he sees Carmen with Escamillo, a bullfighter who had been courting her for some time. Enraged, he engages him in a knife-fight but the smugglers intervene and save Escamillo. In a last desperate attempt, Jose pleads Carmen to return to him, on the day of a bullfight, but she spurns him. In the heat of the moment, he stabs her and the play ends with him confessing his guilt (never said it was a happy ending!)
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A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE
nly for this, shall I advise you to pick the movie over the play because you need to recognize Marlon Brando for the legend (and hottie) that he is! Nevertheless, I’ll tell you the story. Blanche Dubois is a prim and proper Dixie chick from Laurel, who comes to visit her sister Stella in New Orleans. She arrives in the local transportation, a streetcar (a tram of sorts) named Desire. She tells her sister that she’s taking a break from her teaching job because of her nerves, but really she was fired for having an affair with a student. Stella is a little apprehensive about how her husband Stanley would take to her, seeing that he was boorish, primal domineer of a man. Initially, Stanley is polite to her but starts to lose patience over her airy graces, pretense and featherheaded behavior. The suicide of Blanche’s spouse after being discovered having a homosexual affair possibly unhinged her and she seeks escape from reality by making herself attractive to men and flitting from suitor to suitor. The latest one to join the line is Mitch, Stanley’s friend. Stanley comes to resent her intrusion into his domestic life and holds her responsible for upsetting the dynamics. On her part, Blanche doesn’t understand how Stella can tolerate such a man with animalistic tendencies but Stella explains that is a part of the attraction for her. Stanley manages to dig up Blanche’s past through a co-worker who is a frequent visitor to Laurel. He attempts to confront her in his characteristic cruel fashion by raping her (!) and the play concludes by her being led to a mental asylum. Why the name? Because desire has been the driving force for all the characters in this story.
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THE ROCKY HORROR SHOW
’m sure you’ve always wanted to make fun of those cheesy 1950’s horror movies but this musical does it for you! And mind you, risqué is its middle name, for this play has achieved cult status similar to the ‘avant garde’ flicks it’s spoofing! Two sweethearts, Brad and Janet are stranded in the middle of a rainstorm while visiting their old tutor, Dr. Scott. They have no choice but to proceed towards the eerie old castle to make a phone call. They are received by a mad, bisexual scientist named Dr. Frank-n-Furter who takes them to his laboratory. He shows them his creation, Rocky Horror, a personalized (and blond) Frankenstein-ish monster. Just then, a freezer opens and out pops Eddie, Frank’s former lover and Rocky’s brain donor. He is contemplating his new existence when Frank goes berserk and hacks him to death with an axe. Brad and Janet are then shown into their rooms for the night. Frank then disguises himself and seduces both of them under the cover of darkness, each believing him to be their betrothed. When he’s discovered, he’s asked by them to keep their secret shame under wraps. Just then, Frank’s assistant, Riff Raff enters saying that Rocky’s escaped. Janet while searching for Brad stumbles across Rocky and when she learns of Brad’s escapades by seeing the CCTV recordings, she tries to seduce Rocky. When
Brad surfs the same footage and learns of Janet’s misdeeds, he is angry and hurt. Dr. Scott makes an entrance, searching for his nephew Eddie. Frank shows him his corpse and announces himself to be alien from another planet. He then entices everyone to regress to their baser instincts and makes them sing and dance in their underwear. Riff-Raff interrupts the proceedings, saying he’s usurping Frank’s authority and going back home and blasts him and Rocky with a ray gun and then orders the earthlings to leave, so that they can go back to their happy, normal lives, utterly confused about the implications of what just happened.
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SWEENEY TODD : DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET
t’s so gruesome and delicious at the same time! You’ll come to know why soon. Benjamin Barker, a barber by profession, lives a happy life with his wife Lucy and daughter Johanna. But the corrupt Judge Turpin, driven by lust for Barker’s wife, deports him to Australia on false charges. Embittered by his experience, he returns years later to London with a young lad named Anthony. He returns to his apartment on Fleet Street, which now houses a tenant, a baker named Mrs. Lovett. She tells Todd of the misfortune that befell the owner of the apartment and gauges from his reaction that he is Barker himself. Todd is agonized when he hears that during his time away, his wife Lucy consumed poison after a rape attempt by the Judge and his daughter is now a ward of the Judge. Meanwhile, Anthony glimpses Johanna through an open window of the Judge’s house and falls in love with her and seeks to rescue her. Todd and Mrs. Lovett strike up a friendship and manage to pick up a boy named Tobias Ragg from a rival barber. Slowly, the perversions in them take over and Todd starts killing his customers and sends their dead bodies down a chute to Mrs. Lovett, who makes meat pies out of them (now you understand) And no one suspects them of foul play except the mad beggar woman out on the street. Pretty soon, the Judge and his lackey meet their end this way. While struggling to dispose of his body, the beggar woman intrudes upon them and Todd slashes her with his razor only to see that it was really his wife Lucy. He then accuses Mrs. Lovett of deceiving him but she defends herself saying that she loved him. He calms himself, dances a waltz with her and throws her into the furnace. Tobias, watching from a distance, slits Todd’s throat with the same razor when he’s bent, mourning over his wife, to avenge his mistress. Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served in a meat pie!
REAL-ity shows or REEL-ity shows?
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- SOUNDARYA SUBUDHI
E
ver wondered about the irony of a reality show? It is far from real! It is just a desperate attempt of not-so-famous celebrities to become glitzy stars, craving attention even though it means ‘washing their dirty linen in public’ (forgive the use of the cliché). Not-soclean talent hunt shows, trashy talk shows (remember Koffee with Karan - Deepika Padukone and Sonam Kapoor’s episode?) and other not-at-all real “reality shows” have become the shortcut for instant glamour. Right from nasty arguments to intentionally audible abuses, everything seems to be well scripted and perfectly dramatized. And ‘The Best Drama Queen’ award definitely goes to Dolly Bindra for her ostentatious performance in Bigg Boss, Season 4. Seriously, she is the true winner because after all she helped Bigg Boss with TRPs. But apparently she doesn’t seem to have shed her Bigg Boss avatar yet - as you see her popping into the news for all the wrong reasons - but all that matters is that she is in the news! And Veena Malik, please go back to where you belong. We already have a Rakhi Sawant, we don’t want another. And talk about ‘Maa Exchange - Nayee family, nayee drama’, we must appreciate their audacity to introduce this one keeping the Indian mentality in mind. But no thank you. Life has given us our own share of drama to even contemplate about exchanging it with somebody else. (And who on earth would want to exchange their MOM!) It is sad to see that even naïveté isn’t spared by reality shows like ‘Dance India Dance, little masters’ or ‘Chote Miyan’. No doubt, it is a platform for the fresh, blooming talents at a tender age but just imagine the psychological and emotional ordeal a child is put through when he or she is ‘voted off’ the show. What pleasure do we get by watching the pain of an innocent kid while comfortably seated in front of our television? And ultimately, what happened to the youngistaan of India? Right from Splitsvilla’s bitchy girls (who can’t even frame a correct sentence in English!), engaged in cat-fights, all trying to
woo a single guy (who is not even cute!) to the extremely absurd and foul language used in Roadies (although it is censored!), it clearly shows that we have degraded the true meaning of ‘young blood’. Without trying to sound too preachy, if the kind of passion, talent, valour depicted in the so called Roadies truly exists, we must use it for the betterment of the country and not for money or just for the heck of being on television. Finally, what I am trying to say is that what ‘reality shows’ show is not the real essence of life - it doesn’t mean that you’ve to stop watching them - but just keep in mind, that every reality show comes with a warning: “All actions and stunts are performed by professionals, so it is advisable not to perform them in your daily life as it may be too hazardous.”
The Unwritten Destiny
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- PARTH PAIK
Happiness gathers on the prism of life But the Unfaithful sorrow chains You Tonight The rise, the fall, the hour of immortal darkness The abridged happiness rustled away to a stagnant core of life Today or tomorrow you’ll walk on a lonely road You will find that these are coherent rays of life The breezing sound of the eternal wind Blowing in the way of your life And yet you know not where it will sail you tonight Breathe it and you will get not what you want Only an aimless reflection of your paler self Swing against it and you will script your own destiny So walk O lonely traveler for destination is not reached Fight O lonely fighter for battle is not lost Break the shackles and fly away from the captivity of the moment Captivating the moment and living a story to b remembered forever Myriads do not have the will’s destiny It is then O traveler from those millions one decides to “Write their own Destiny”
- SURYA TEJ BORRA
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ew people on this planet don’t like diamonds. And honestly, can you really blame the rest? Often this object, the diamond, is seen as a benchmark of excellence. Maybe the same thought had struck our rulers way back in 1947 for them to have named our highest civilian author “Bharat Ratna”. In this long list of awardees lie the names of these 5 people I would call “Pancharatnas” who have been conferred this title for their contribution to the field of classical music. The time has come to remember all of them. 1. M. S. SUBBULAKSHMI: A perfect beginning to a day in India would be a hot coffee, the Hindu newspaper and M. S. Subbulakshmi’s “suprabhatam”. Such is the impact of her voice. Remembered as one of the greatest Carnatic vocalists this country has ever produced, every song of hers is just a blissful journey. As the saying goes “Music has no bounds”, this “Nightingale of India” is a perfect example of it. Her devotion and commitment to music were such that Kishori Amunikar labeled her as “Aathuvaan Sur” or “Ultimate Eighth Note” which is considered above all the 7 basic notes to all music. M. S. Subbulakshmi is not just a name. It is a brand. A special and well-known Kanjeevaram Saree “M. S. Blue” was made on her name. If titles such as “Tapaswini”, “Suswaralakshmi” and “Queen of Music” are on one page in her book, the others are filled with the awards and honors conferred to her. She also had the rare privilege of performing in the UN General Assembly. She was conferred the award of Bharat Ratna in 1998 and was the first musician to have that honour. She passed away in 2004 and left Indian music with a rich heritage and wonderful memories. 2. RAVI SHANKAR: If you happen to see a Sitar its Pandit Ravi Shankar you remember first. He had a very unconventional and distinct style of playing. He was one of the first to promote the so called “Juggalbandi” style and gave birth to a lot of new raagas during his career. He is a musician who has an international outlook with a traditional Indian standard of playing. His recognition came on composing music for “Saare Jahan Se Achcha” and Satyajit Ray’s “Apu” Trilogy which were internationally acclaimed. His contribution to music is phenomenal as he has played with internationally acclaimed musicians like George Harrison of “The Beatles”. He had the rare privilege of performing with the London Symphony Orchestra and was the only Indian to perform at the Woodstock concert in 1969. He was instrumental in creating the impact of Indian music on Western music and gave birth to the special RAAGA ROCK Trend. He went to win 3 Grammy Awards for his work and was conferred Bharat Ratna in 1999. His daughter Anoushka Shankar is another renowned sitar player and his second daughter Norah Jones has won 8 Grammy Awards so far. 3. LATA MANGESHKAR: If contemporary Indian music has a life, the soul is Lata Mangeshkar. With a career spanning over seven decades, she holds the Guinness record for singing over 30,000 songs in more than 36 languages. Every song of hers is a masterpiece. Be it “Pyaar Kiya tho Darna Kya” in Mughale-Azam or the recent “Lukka Chuppi” in Rang de Basanti, she is the person who has hummed historical tunes in playback singing. Many were the awards and honors given to this queen of modern singing including National, Film-fare and State Awards. The greatest thing I personally like about her is her concerts which were done on a social front and her work with the name of Lata Mangeshkar Medical Foundation. Anytime you are having a headache, or you are on a long drive with your boy/girlfriend, or you are out for dinner with your spouse, the perfect backdrop can be one of her songs.
4. USTAD BISMILLAH KHAN: This maestro of Indian Shehnai breathed life into Indian music with his soulful work for more than 8 decades. It is said that Bholenath of Varanasi wouldn’t open his eyes if Ustad Saab didn’t play the shehnai in the morning. His music resembled the purity of Ganga and the greatness of this country. Khan had the rare privilege of performing at the Red Fort on the eve of Indian Independence in 1947. His recital became a part of Indepedence Day every year. The first thing I remember when I hear his name is the “Yeh Jo Des Hai Tera” instrumental track in Swades. He often referred to his Shehnai as his “begum” (wife in Urdu). He was known for his vision of spreading love and peace through music and was a perfect example of Hindu-Muslim unity and secularism in this country. One of his famous quotes was “Even if the world would end, the music would still survive”. He was a standout example that music has no bounds like language, caste, country, creed, race and religion. He was conferred the Bharat Ratna in 2001 and the Sangeet Natak Akademi instituted “Ustaad Bismillah Khan Yuva Puraskar” in his name to promote young talent in music and dance. His Shehnai became mute in 2006 when he passed away. On his death, as an honor, his shehnai was buried along with him. Such was his dedication to music, and peoples’ respect for his talent.
5. BHIMSEN JOSHI Known for his devotional renderings such as bhajans and abhangs, Pandit Bhimsen Joshi had infused life into Hindustani Music with his singing. He is primarily known for his “Khayal” form of singing which is said to be a breakthrough in Hindustani music. His performances have been said to have been marked by spontaneity, accurate notes, dizzyingly-paced “taans” which make use of his exceptional voice training, and a mastery over rhythm.The Hindu, in an article written after he was awarded the Bharat Ratna, said “Bhimsen Joshi was ever the wanderer, engendering brilliant phrases and taans more intuitively than through deliberation”. He was often considered as a purist and never experimented with music. Joshi assimilated into his own singing various elements that he liked in different musical styles and Gharanas. Pandit Joshi was known for his powerful voice, amazing breath control, fine musical sensibility and unwavering grasp of the fundamentals, representing a subtle fusion of intelligence and passion that imparted life and excitement to his music. An alien to technicality, like me, would know him for his “Miley Sur Mera Tumhaara” music video made with the purpose of promoting national integration and patriotism. He was one of the few singers invited to record for the National Anthem in 2000. He was conferred the Bharat Ratna recently in 2008. Sadly, he passed away a couple of months back in January 2011.
best Of Facebook - EVERYBODY
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Shivam Khandelwal To find out a girl’s faults, praise her to her girlfriends. Anubhav Kumar is 100% sure that you are looking at my status. :) Rohit Ramesh Gf - “I cheated.” Bf - “So what do u think I love u?I was also cheating u for past 2 yrs.” Girl cried & said “I was talking about exams.” Priyamvada Sethi What is Sri Lanka?- Buy a map of India and u get theirs for free:p Darshit Shah Seeing so much blue color around after the world cup victory, James Cameron has decided to re-release Avatar in India. Abhijit Kane you know things are screwed up when you go to the photocopy guy for the syllabus Cdt Naman Luhadiya There are 3 types of students: 1, that make wonders happen; 2, that see wonders happen; & 3, my category, that wonder, “What happened? Dikshit Goel To be meek, patient, tactful, modest, honorable, brave is not to be either manly or womanly; it is to be humane!!!... Madhu Garg If it’s free, it’s advice; If you pay for it, it’s counseling; If you can use either one, it’s a miracle ! Akshay Rishi ”Dear Raj Thackery, a chandigarh lad, a jharkhand captain and a delhi boy won the world cup for us and dedicated it to a marathi legend. Your regional hatred has failed. Jai ho!” courtesy-- I was Alive when India won Cricket World Cup 2011
Copy”Write” LTGTR
iNSPIRATION
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There, There