The North-West Monsoon Madness
The north-west monsoons arrive in Pondicherry, bringing torrential rains and lightning storms. A dark cloud arrives, dominating the skies.
An absurd evening at The Office
* The sky was that dim dark blue that makes you realize its past seven and you're going to be at work for another hour easy. I was, predictably, still following up on things that were probably not my job due to the fact that we were under-staffed. Making sure the damned Finance department would pay my vendors on time became more important than design work, since without printers you can't get anything done anyway. In this case, 'on time' was long gone and it was quickly turning into paying my vendors 'ever'. Add to that the internet is down (again) and the emails are not working (again). So my numerous replies and follow ups must be done via phone. It was during this process that I had a very strange twlight-like conversation with the HOD of Finance.
[The Finance dept. lost all the bills, and I had sent them copies the second time].
"Hi, FM."
"Hi, yes Aditi"
"I just wanted to tell you that I have sent all the bill copies to the Purchase dept. again. My email is not working, so I just wanted to say that I gave it to them in the afternoon."
"Good, good. okay. Once Mahesh tells me he's recieved it, I will go ahead."
"But he has recieved it, I gave it to him in the afternoon."
"Yes but nowadays I don't trust anybody, not even you, not even Mahesh."
"Okay..."
"I don't even trust myself. Finance dept. is such, the kind of work that we do. You can't be too careful. I don't even trust what I am saying and doing."
"(Laughter) You don't even trust yourself? But how...?"
"I'm telling you. You never know if the bills are recieved, with accounts, with purchase, finance or wherever. Once I know where they are, then I will take action."
"Okay, but I gave them to Purchase today."
"You already told me that. Are you telling me twice because you had to give copies of the bill twice?" (Laughter)
I forced a laugh out of myself. I don't think giving copies of bills again and again is funny at all. "But I'm just telling you FM, that's all."
"Good, good. And once I am certain of what's happening, I will definitely take action." At this point I gave up since I realized we were having a circular conversation.
"Enjoy!" FM continued. This was the most strangest part. I had never had such a long conversation with him, but this was definitely a weird way to hang up.
"Okay... Thanks then." (For nothing, I added in my head).
"Enjoy, enjoy!" he repeated merrily and then hung up. I stared at the phone for a couple of moments, wondering what just happened. Clearly someone was making a fool of me. I looked around, but everyone was seriously typing away at their cubicles. So I shrugged it off and got back to work.
*
I walk down dark and narrow streets
Some photographs that attempt to describe urban Indian streets at night.
Colourful Graveyard: Photo Essay
I've always been curious about the local graveyard. Sometimes I see backpackers and tourists leave the place, carrying their bulky SLR's. So I finally made the time, and walked through it. It surprised me because it wasn't typical. Not that I've seen many graveyards. The only other time I've set foot in one is for a silly dare when I was a kid. Another time was when I was doing a design project near the border of Rajasthan in a village called Idar. I visited a very small Dargah there, deserted and locked away. Technically its not a graveyard, but its very similar in concept to a graveyard because it is burial ground.
Tamil and French Fusion Architecture
I lived all alone in this old Tamil house for about two weeks while I was looking out for an apartment. Everyone told me it was haunted and all that, but I didn't have any scary experiences (what a surprise ^_^). The house itself was old, old and beautiful. The current owner told me an interesting story about the house. Less than a hundred years ago it was owned by a hi-flying Tamil bureaucrat when Pondicherry was still a French Colony. According to an old cook who has worked in the house for more than sixty years, the name of the previous owner was Ramaswami Chettiyar, his daughters name was Rani and his wife's name was Maragadham. He built the ground floor in traditional Tamil style, with a courtyard and everything, while the first floor is built in French style, with chandeliers, high ceilings and a huge ballroom to entertain French guests. I lived on the first floor, but most of the rooms were closed off. Large parts of the house have been broken down over time to give space for roads and neighbours, only the smaller parts of it remain, and even those are badly maintained. That's probably why some people find it scary.
My favourite part of the place; The bathroom door is completely stained glass:
Detail of the giant mirrors on both sides of the drawing room.
The stained glass windows really add to the overall effect, and conflict nicely with the traditional, and brightly painted carved wood and absence of glass on the ground floor:
Only some of painted details remain, but these wooden columns were completely painted before falling into disrepair. Unfortunately, this part of the house has also not been maintained.
Here you can see an area where the bright colours are still visible and not completely faded:
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Quick Gun Murugan - Movie Review
Director: Shashanka Ghosh | Writer: Rajesh Devraj *
Okay, I've already heard many people say that the movie is not worth watching, and I completely disagree. That's what pushed me to write the review. Apparently, the movie has got a couple of bad reviews in the newspapers, I have no idea why, most of the time lots of terribly bad movies get good reviews, especially in TOI.
Quick Gun Murugan is Classic Slapstick Humour. It's well done, not too sexist, it has low brow and high brow cross-references and original, entertaining cultural references. Frankly, what more do you need in a light movie? A spoof of Tamil cinema, the movie reminds me of one of my all-time favourites, Kung Fu Hustle.
You're guaranteed to leave the theatre in a good mood, smiling: It's not too long either.
The theatre I went to in Chennai was not packed because it was a Sunday morning show, but almost everyone in the audience was in splits the entire time.
A warning note: It doesn't make sense to expect too much (its not THAT great), since its still rough at the edges, and not as polished as it could have been. And the reason I'm raving about it is the dearth of such movies in Indian cinema. As a film buff I still expect better.
Image via www.media.photobucket.com
The villain - Rice Plate Reddy:
Image via strawdogs.files.wordpress.com
The vamp/heroin Rambha:
Image via whatslatest.com
So you've seen some of the excellent and colourful cast, although I couldnt find a picture of one of my favourite villain characters - Rowdy MBA Rascal - I loved the insane amounts of case-taking of MBA's!!
Finally a found a pic of Rowdy MBA The Side Kick Villain:
Image via nowrunning.com
The wiki tells us of the origin of the main character Quick Gun, who started off as a television promo on Channel [V] making phrases such as "Mind it" and "We are like this only" part of an iconic cultural identity. Quick Gun has come a long way from there.
Interestingly, the movie is in English, but it breaks into Tamil or Hindi whenever translation is not possible. In this way, even if it's in English, you never lose the Indian flavour at all. For example,
*SPOILERS AHEAD*
during a love song, he is singing in English and it sounds really ridiculous and funny, and then he switched to Tamil naturally, which is even funnier due to the subtitles that then appear, translating everything literally! This part was tricky, but well executed. Even the trilingual scenes in Mumbai, with English, Tamil and Hindi, switching from one language to another is handled naturally.
So indulge your light hearted side and watch this movie, and remember -
WE ARE LIKE THIS ONLY!
^_^
Lucknow Food: Paan and Kulfi
The meal is important, but the right way to end your large satisfying meal in Lucknow is vital. You could do paan, or kulfi, or both, depending on how much you can consume. The paan is good, of course, paan is usually good in most parts of India, but what was special here was the beautiful way it was decorated and the cost (cheap compared to Mumbai). Though I only had the sweet paan with supari, not the bitter ones that some people prefer. I can't chew tobacco - *yech*
Kulfi! Our taxi driver recommended this place, which was really hard to find, so I can't really give directions, but I can say with confidence that its walking distance from the famous Tundey Kababi.
The sign below says Full Box - 40Rs, Half Box - 20 Rs:
The famous kulfi place uses small round tins to serve the Kulfi, which are then washed and re-used when a new batch is set. This is a photograph of the tins getting collected before being sent off for refilling:
