Monday, June 04, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Deuce
Why is it that we celebrate anniversaries? Just because the Earth completed yet another revolution around its mother star and since we are always looking for excuses to celebrate, let this be another. Right and there's nothing wrong with it. Because life is to celebrate and be happy (and also make others happy). Here's my reason for celebration, this blog that you're reading, earlier known by a newbie-blogger type of name, Mindless Musings of an Unmindful Mind, and later metamorphosed into the existing pretentious avatar - Cutting the Chai.
Well things have been good, though the comments have drastically dropped (maybe as a result of reciprocity at my end or the ever deteriorating quality of content) and Adsense doesn't make much monetary sense. More people from more parts of the world drop in leaving their footprints behind on my stat trackers, even spammers find this blog attractive. Yesterday someone posted an 8,861-word long seemingly meaningless comment and ended with a threat that there was another 100,000 character comment coming my way. Therefore the word verification in the comments page. Though it doesn't always help, some deterrent is better than none.
What have I achieved in two years of occasional (and occasionally intensive) blogging? I had written about it in a post titled 'Why am I doing this?' The answer to the why fits into one line, "It feels good." And then that feel-good factor can be elaborated upon in hundreds of lines more. When someone says that they started blogging seeing me doing that, it feels good. When some researcher from another corner of the planet emails to express gratitude towards the blog for taking their thesis forward, it feels better. When a deadline-stressed mass communication student writes to seek help for their advertising assignment, I feel like David Ogilvy. But then there are many more who use the critical pin to take out all the hot air inside my head, it feels the best.
Pity the anniversary falls on a work day, or it could've been cutting chai laced with vodka. Never tried it, but am planning to. Though coffee with a teaspoon of brandy is wonderful during the winters.
And a Cutting Chai tip for those who came in late (it was passed on to me by my ever-so-knowingly elder brother). To prevent the beer from a bottle from fizzing out, gently tickle the bottom of the bottle (the punt) while taking off the crown. I don't know the logic behind this, but it works (many others will vouch). Though don't try this to pacify anything animate. You might land with multiple fractures on your arm as a friend of mine deservedly did.
By the way, shouldn't Cutting the Chai be about tea? Maybe I've subconsciously expanded the definition of the chai to incorporate all beverages. No foreseen harm in that, unless prohibition strikes. But given the influence liquor barons exercise over men who matter in the government that seems very unlikely. Continue enjoying Cutting the Peg ...oops Chai.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Painted Dreams
One of the little excitements during our school days was to gaze at the film posters - on the walls of the Shillong Civil Hospital - as our rickety school bus brattled by. The posters usually changed every Wednesday or Thursday and had a rectangular piece of printed paper pasted atop providing details about the name of the cinema hall and the show timings. There were only a handful of cinema halls - Bijou, Payal, Dreamland, Mini Dreamland (below Dreamland and popular for B-grade stuff) and Anjalee (for all the foreign flicks). There was a Kelvin too (very popular with my parents as it showed Bengali movies), but then it burned down one night, and Singhania Talkies which the Ramakrishna Mission took over and turned it into a library. Besides there were the military run theatres (Rhino, Soltee and the like).
After Kelvin turned into ashes, I hardly ventured into the dark environs of the theatre and by that time the VHS revolution had begun. We pooled money and rented video cassettes and the VCP. It was a regular affair every week (sometimes on all days of the week) and there was hardly a film from that era that we would've missed (only the ones with 'scenes' in them, as it was more of a family show). Come back from school, change fast, gobble something and rush to the neighbour's drawing room which served as our theatre for many years. But we didn't like to miss the posters on the walls of the Civil Hospital. Usually printed versions of hand-painted posters, where often an untrained hand gave the hero a villanish tinge or add some unwanted kilos (at the wrong places) on the heroine.
The artists took extra care in accentuating the muscles of the hero and the bust of the female lead. The vamp gave them more liberty. With the popularity of photographic images on film posters, the look might have gotten better, but the feel is amiss. Every poster painter (even MF Hussain was one) had his unique take. I watched in awe as a giant Amitabh, Govinda. Anil Kapoor or Mithun towered over me from the top of Dreamland Talkies. Red with anger or pink in love, the blue of the evil, the brushstrokes said it all. Now missing from the walls these hand-painted movie posters are found inside art galleries ready to be the prized possession of the highest bidder.
Another source for film posters for me was Screen (bought every week by my brother), it didn't (then) have any of the movie industry masala that the other magazines carried. It was more about the business of making movies and selling them. For me the full page broadsheet posters were a big bonus. After my brother lost interest, I started getting the copies on my own. If I remember right, it cost me Rs 5. Then I too ventured off the filmi fare. Years later, I couldn't find it on the vendor's display, only to realise later that the look had changed (like so many of the newspapers and magazines).
The film poster as a medium of advertising is intriguing. At a time when there was no television (or the internet), it was the posters which let the public know about the forthcoming releases. Newspapers also carried miniature posters where they announced the show timings. Even Chitrahaar (that great favourite on Wednesday and Friday nights) displayed the poster of the film before playing the song.Historically the poster has been important as a travelling form that moves from city walls to lavatories, from pan shops to huts. Used as a decorative form in dhabas and small hotels as well as to promote film culture, the poster is both an advertisement as well as a cultural icon. Posters have circulated within urban centres for many years. Their presence outside cinema theatres and on city walls has been a prominent visual aspect of most cities of the country.
Here's a little tribute to the almost extinct art of hand-painted film posters, featuring ten milestone Hindi films (I like the term Hindustani over Hindi as an adjective for Bollywood movies):
[Click on the images for a larger view]
Aawara (1951)
Do Bigha Zameen (1953)
Mother India (1957)
Pyaasa (1957)
Kaagaz ke Phool (1959)
Mughal-e-Azam (1960)
Sahib Bibi aur Ghulam (1962)
Guide ( 1965)
Deewar (1975)
Sholay (1975)
Friday, May 25, 2007
Indemnity and Longevity
Whenever someone not-so-efficient (or pretending to be) takes control of the steering wheel, he/she invariably asks, "Hope you have life insurance?" "Life insurance wouldn't save my life, a seat belt might," comes a rational thought into my mind. Insurance is not seat belt, it is the bandage.
This ad from ICICI Prudential Life Insurance points towards a direct relation between life insurance and longevity. Colleagues whom I showed this ad called it "cute." It is.
Download video [WMV 1.86 MB 320x240 335kbps 00:00:48]
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Isspecial Cutting Chai - April 2007
One of the great benefits of blogging is that I have known a few people from all across the third rock from the Sun. Though some opinions hold that chatting and social networking lets you meet more people and make 'friends' more effectively. But my hobby isn't what many mention in their profiles - "making friends." I believe that you don't make friends, friends just happen (no similitude to 'shit happens' here).
Online chatting and the current hysteria called 'scrapping' is necessarily (in most cases) a two-way communication. This is the advantage of blogging - though this phenomenon is very different in nature and practice from the other two mentioned above - you can't just write (post) or just read (listen, watch). Or do both. The choice is yours. It is more democratic. Though democracy is not perfect, it is the best thing that we have now.
One of the bloggers from beyond India's 22,716.6 kilometres of sea and land frontiers that I came to know since my early blogging days is Abaniko. He is from the Phillipines. My earliest recollection of this island nation is related to shoes, that of the former Philippine First Lady Imelda Marcos.
I came to know much about the archipelago and especially the people who inhabit it, through Abaniko's posts. Though the world may be culturally and economically varied, there's often more than one connecting thread. One would be the general antipathy towards politics and the people who run the game (or business). In a recent post Abaniko writes:
Simple. We're not voting. Call us irresponsible, we don't care. Voting is of no significance to us. Okay, I cannot speak for them but as for me, I don't give a rat's ass about elections. I admit I have become apathetic. And I won't even apologize for it. I got tired of politics a long time ago. Did anything significant happen after the time of Marcos? Hmm?
For opening up a whole new world to me, the thirteenth Isspecial Cutting Chai (April 2007) is offered to Abaniko of Ang Anino ni Abaniko aka The Shadow of Abaniko.
I still remember his first comment on this blog, when it was known by some other name, on a post about the kurta and my liking for it.
Previous sipper Beth Loves Bollywood (March 2007)
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