"Hat's Off! Probir"

Probir has just received an award from our client Filtrona in UK. People who have read my blog would know Probir well enough. If you dont first read my blog titled "Probir Chollo London". And then read this.

I would take it from two angles, why I think this award is special and why am I writing about it in my blog.

Why I think the award is special?

• It is an award from our client, it is not an internal award and probir had no recommendations
• It is a cash award and not just limited to lip service
• It is accompanied by a personal hard copy letter of appreciation
• Most importantly, it is not for the work that he had gone for but for some value adds he had done and the client clearly mentions that in the mail

Why I am writing about it?

There was no doubt about Probir's talent. But the award is more a vindication of Probir's attitude, his sincerity and his honest approach towards work. Probir was caged for long and was not allowed the proper exposure. He might still need to fight to get value-added work. But each time he gets the slightest opportunity he will continue to add value. And at some honest touchpoints that value and the man delivering it gets recognised.

For me and many of us this should be inspirational

Of late he has been an inspirational influence. There are many in the numerous nooks and corners of many offices - individuals who have the talent and harbors dream - who get limited opportunity. They either do not manage to find the right workplace or finds someone who comes in the way. But there are times when you cannot just hold down someone who deserves. They just break free. Probir's award is a testimony to that.

Thanks Probir for going on and on and I hope I can emulate you someday and you will be around.. "Audio Video r khelai video kintu agiye jachchey"

Sarkar and Dus

Of late I have been watching a lot of movies in the theatres and I have not done that for many years. Infact the number of movies that I have watched in the last 6 months is more than what I watched in the last 6 years. I am going to talk of the two most recent ones Sarkar and Dus.

Sarkar

The moment I read the review of Sarkar on rediff something told me I should watch this movie. No, the reviewer didnt praise the movie. He mentioned mostly good things here and there. And he concluded that considering Sarkar has Amitabh and is directed by Ram Gopa Verma much more was expected.

On the face of it there is nothing special about Sarkar and it is a typical underworld humdinger which Ramu churns out like a mill operating under strict SEI CMMI Level 5 processes. Slick editing & great camerawork. But Sarkar is more about individual performances and how Ramu orchestrates that. It seems he just sits back and lets Amitabh, Abhishek, Kay Kay and the main villain (screen name - Rashid) hold their emotions under leash.

If Big B in Black was all histrionics in Sarkar he is completely understated. Kay Kay performs with his eyes. Nothing typifies that more than the scene where he oogles over the upcoming nymphet. Abhishek too holds his own. The movie is packed with tight shots and atleast this is one underworld movie where the actors mostly exercise their occular muscles. Seeing everybody in Sarkar reminded me of Satya where the main protagonist rarely spoke.

Dus

But while Sarkar is all about understatement Dus truly goes overboard. It is all style and no substance. The director's (Anubhav Sinha) technical wizadry is beyond doubt. But the movie is too techno. It looks American, behaves American, speaks Hindi but emotes nothing. The acting is wooden & the dialogues amateurish. Barring Pankaj Kapur's histrionics there is nothing which I take back with me. All I remember is a group of handsome men walking out of cars, jumping from highrises, defusing bombs and shooting from the hip but always impeccably dressed.

When I go to watch a movie I should be so involved that my mind shouldnt veer towards anything else. Sarkar made that happen but in Dus I was often looking at my watch. Directors like Anubhav Sinha tries to ape the west. It is not a bad trend. Atleast it will take us somewhere. Question is why arent people like him aping the storytelling capacity. Remmember One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) .

And a word about those who read reviews and then watch movies. Dont leave decisions about which movies to watch on movie critics. The press wallahs have many other non filmy criteria to pan and applaud movies. To hear them will result in you missing out on some good movies. Trust your instincts.

Walking Hand in Hand

A daily walk made special

These days I really enjoy my walk to work. It takes me exactly 16 mins from the door of my house to my desk. The roads are treelined and the weather is brilliant. But what I enjoy most is the second half of the walk through ITC Infotech's huge 37 acre campus. It is nature at its best. But the reason for my present post is a 2 minute sighting this morning which touched my heart - two old men walking hand in hand.

Walking hand in hand

One man was half blind by the looks of it and weak on the knees and legs. His movement heavily impaired by some kind of a paralytic stroke. He was wearing a checkered shirt and scruffy trousers. The other was in the traditional south indian whites - dhoti and shirt - made fashionable by our PC. He seems to be suffering from Parkinson's disease which was badly effecting his gait.

A odd old combination

What made the sight special was not the fact that I saw two old men walking together but the conditions of their walk. Singularly they would not appear to be able to even support themselves. Each looked more frail than the other. And you would not trust them together on a busy road on the morning of a working day. But together as they were walking hand in hand stuttering down the road there was a sense of stability about them which you would not have felt if they were walking alone. But each in his own way was supporting the other.

A mixed bag of feeling

The image was fixed in my mind and for a moment made me feel less strong. It also made me feel happy about each of them. But it also saddned me. These days the vagaries of the time have left many old people to fend for themselves. People like us - some out of choice and some of compulsion - have had to leave home and move out to some other cities. This leaves our parent on their own both financially and socially.

Mental & social displacement

The interest rates have dipped. Retired folks like my dad who had earlier thought they had secured their post-work future suddenly find their incomes having been halved. Add to this the tremendous pace at which our daily life is changing. Shopping at departmental stores, communicating through mail, availing apex fares, watching movies in multiplexes and banking through phone and ATM have made life easier but a little more unaffordable. These do not affect our parents financially but impacts their thought process and hastens ageing.

Hard money

They are ever apologetic to accompany us to the mall. They would rather spend their time in the evening relaxing in the house or strolling in the park. If we take them out to the restaurant they would be hesitant to order anything. Instead they prefer to go by what we choose ever complaining of the need to eat out. They moved up the hardway and worked hard for every penny. Money is a priceless commodity which needs to preserved.

Little expectations

We do send the occasional money and make the religious phone calls. They do visit us from time to time. However the fact of displacement and detachment cannot be denied. In our times money seems to have become the pivot around which all good times swing. For our parents enjoyment comes from more simpler things. From just being around their children and grandchildren.

Hypocracy?

But I guess I have put it all too simplistically. These days to be around with your parents looks to be Utopian. They are the ifs and buts, the may bes and could bes, the perhaps and the possible. Sometimes I wonder if I am a hypocrite.

Gone are the Days

Gone are the days
When the school reopened in June,
And we settled in our new desks and benches.

Gone are the days
When we queued up in the book depots,
And got our new books and notes.

Gone are the days
When we yearned for Sundays, Thursdays or Saturdays,
Yet managed to line up daily for Monday morning prayer with inflated eyes and deflated spirits.

Gone are the days
When we learnt writing with Slates and Pencils,
And progressed to Fountain & Ball Pens and then to the Micro Tips.

Gone are the days
When we began drawing with Crayons and Colour pencils
And evolved to Sketch Pens & Tube Colours

Gone are the days
When we chased one another in the corridors in Intervals,
And returned to the classrooms drenched in sweat, our shoes covered with dirt.

Gone are the days
When we had lunch in the classrooms, the corridors,
And hungout in the Playgrounds, under the trees and even in Cycle Sheds.

Gone are the days
When cricket was played with writing pads and lunch boxes as bats, And Neckties and Socks were rolled into balls.

Gone are the days
When we brought tiffin,
And a few others had "2 rupee Dosa", "75 paisa strawberry rockets", "Campa Cola" and "Gold Spot".

Gone are the days
When we fought with the gaurd,
For freedom to the 10 paisa "current" on our tongue.

Gone are the days
When the single P.T. period in the week's Time Table,
Was awaited the most eagerly awaited class.

Gone are the days
When few played "kabadi" and "kho-kho" in scorching sun,
While others simply played "book cricket" in the confines of classroom.

Gone are the days
When we chased the teachers outside just after the class,
To get registered in their mind

Gone are the days
When we rushed for the "School Bus",
To "Conquer" the window seats for the ride back home.

Gone are the days
When we waited for our "Sister" and "Brother" schools for Sports, Fete and Fests,
To mingle, mix and mush

Gone are the days
When we played sports,
And didnt indulge in Games.

Gone are the days
Of the stressful Quarterlys, Half-Yearlys, the Annuals and finally the pink colored card which changed to blue, green and yellow as move up the stairs.

Gone are the days
Of the holiday blues, the cane on the back, the slap on the face or the ruler on the knuckles

Gone are the days
Of etching on the table, drawing on the board, talking in whispers, standing in the corner

Gone are the days
Of fights but no conspiracies, Of Competitions and the rare Jealousies.

Gone are the days
When we learnt, we enjoyed, we played, we won, we lost, we laughed, we cried, we fought, we thought.

Gone are the days
Of so much fun, so many friends, so much crush and so much blush.

Gone are the days
But not the memories, which linger in our hearts for ever still...

Gone are the days
When I would need to send post-cards to you all to tell you about this...

But now are the days
When I could just use my blog....

This was part of a mail sent to me. I just couldnt stop myself from improvising on it further and publishing. I was in Calcutta Boys' School. But I am sure for all others whichever school you were in, the sentiment and the emotions will be the same.

I hope it took you back some years and suspended you there for some moments. Lets all thank Silva Sarkar for this.