Break Ke Baad- Review

If you remember, the ‘transition phase’ has always been a very interesting and essential part of 80s Hindi Cinema. It would all start with a small kid running to save himself from the goons or perhaps after picking someone's pocket. And in due course the credits would roll down and by the time 'all that jazz' was over; he would suddenly transform into a handsome,young, grown-up alpha male. The transition in BKB has been shown in a similar way. Aliya and Abhay’s (Deepika and Imran) journey in the beginning is depicted in a very cute way until love blossoms. If you are a Bollywood lover, the opening credits of BKB are sure to fascinate you. A teenage Deepika doing a Pooja Bedi a la Marilyn Monroe 'wind beneath the skirt' scene atop a bench and the credits flashing on the black board is one such example of how the 
the thinktank of the film showed utmost creativity (at least in the beginning). It didn't take much time for my enthusiasm to fizzle out and I realized that plain innovation applied in the unspooling of introductory credits isn't enough to hold your attention for a long time, there needs to be more meat and (an occasional sprinkle of masala on it). C'mon it's nowhere close to a realistic flick, so all hard-nosed cinema lovers, don't get all ruffled up, please! There are scenes which make you drool over Imran and there are also parts that will put you off to sleep. But don't worry the scalding coffee will wake you up soon, yes the same coffee that the ticket seller fast-talked you into buying along with some combo that you have absolutely zilch clue about. 


So Abhay and Aliya are childhood lovers who have been courting right since they hit puberty(I guess!) . Aliya is an aspiring actress in the movie. Now isn't that supremely ironical, considering in real life she's a famous starlet who's thespian skills suck to the hilt. She wants to pursue her dreams, make it big and the whole 'relationship thing' gets cumbersome for her. Abhay on the other hand is pure old-school. He's a veritable optimist for whom 'being in love' is the most important thing in life (such a loser, I say!). Without bragging further, if I have to give a much clearer picture, then the best way to do it is, label it as a 'yet another insipid rom-com'.  Although the the songs composed by Vishal-Shekhar are truly hummable, I suggest if funky clothes, great locations, bright colors, soulful songs appeal to you; the movie is worth watching at least once.

Also I must say Ms Padukone  has come a long way from simply waving her hand in Om Shanti Om to finally showing a hint of emotion in Break Ke Baad. I like Shahhana Goswami's bohemian style in the movie. Rest assured this movie is sure to feature in the list of the many banal movies that you have wasted your time seeing in the past...

Shoe stories...

I have always loathed job interviews to the hilt. Especially the part when you are made to wait for a certain period of time before meeting the sovereign authority. You start galvanizing your imagining cells into action, whiling away in the reception area thinking about this unknown entity’s persona. Will he be a part Hitler- part Ratan Tata or will he be the emulation of one of those chilled out,non judgemental creative bosses who will treat you like his age old 'Chaddi-buddy'. Imagination indeed can take you places.

So recently when I walked into an interview, I decided I wouldn’t have any preconceived notions about this to-be or not-to-be future boss of mine. Sitting somberly next to the glass door entrance, all I could see was the moving feet of people, walking to and fro. Some sauntered, few cantered in a pace akin to Rajdhani express. The middle portion of the door was opaque, which restricted my vision to only their footwears. And trust me every footwear spoke a thousand words (at least in my mind)...

The red converse passing by made me imagine this young,cute, next door kinda guy who has come to give an interview somewhere just like me and is returning home disappointed or (maybe happy). His pace was fast, so I assumed he was either ecstatic about his confab with part Hitler-part Ratan Tata or he's simply desperate to get out of this place (which according to him had transformed into a hellhole after getting rejected)

The modest plastic sandals made me imagine this middle aged woman with calloused palms who is toiling hard in this harsh metropolis people call… ‘Bombay’, and earning her daily bread and butter. After sticking her nose to the grindstone, she invariably greets her family with a wide grin after she reaches home. Despite the fact hovering in her mind that her monthly expenditure is more than her monthly salary, this woman of steel puts on her rickety sandals and gears up for a new day, every single day.

The fluorescent green shoes made me imagine a struggling actor who probably lives in a chawl and is wasting his life, trying to achieve unrealistic goals. He thinks he looks supremely handsome in his gaudy ensemble and has all the required abilities to conquer the world. I guess he just needs a diligent guardian angel who will help him wake up and smell the coffee. And I doubt if even that would deter him from trying!

Maybe imagining was futile and the stories woven around them were not even tad close to their real life. The best part is that I didn't waste my time getting all jittery about the interview and harassing myself unnecessarily. I thought about people for a change, their lives, and the way they live. I just took out time to mull over others' lives and trust me, that was a great stress-buster.Thinking is like a medicine, it can make you feel better and it can also make you feel worse if you took the wrong dose!!!...Don’t stop thinking and observing, it works wonders for your mind and soul!

PERFORMANCES

There is something about good performances, they are cerebral and touch a nerve with your emotional side at the same time. However hard you try to control those elephantine drops of tears, trying to cage them in every nook and cranny of your eyes, acting all cool and strong; the truth is GOOD PERFORMANCES do have the ability to move you, touch you and warm the cockles of your heart. 

I am intoxicated by cinema and even if I have missed out on a lot of good films over the years, I am quite sure I'll catch up with them at some point or the other. I pay a tribute to some of the best films I've watched this year and thank them for endowing me with unprecedented renditions. 

Few acts that have managed to stir up my grey cells lately:

Sean Penn essaying the role of Harvey Milk in the movie Milk

Sean Penn in Assassination of Richard Nixon

Joey Lauren Adams playing Alissa Jones in the movie Chasing Amy

Shahrukh Khan in My Name is Khan

Alan Tudyk as Simon in Death at a funeral (comedy at its best)

Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles

Billy Bob in Slingblade

Mickey Rourke as Randy in The wrestler

Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts in Charlie Wilsons War  

Heath Ledger and Christian Bale in Dark Knight (truly a legend)

THE COMFORTING TOUCH - fiction

If you ask me the best source of entertainment I’ve ever come across, it definitely has to be the Mumbai local train. The old man whining about why women wear low waist jeans, the middle aged lady describing her son’s conversation with his girlfriend to her friends which she often hears unabashedly while he’s talking on the phone, the innocent look of that 5 year old who stares at your headphones and tries to make sense of the queer device; there are stories galore spoken by this motley crowd.

It was time I realized that there is someone else observing me too, is all geared up to narrate my story suffused with all the spice available in the world.Everyone who commutes by the local train ends up making a spectacle of himself and I did that too… I reminisce those days, when after a hectic day's work I would go for a drink with my friends .While returning home I would prefer slouching to the support in the doorway and inhale the breeze voraciously, this is perhaps the best antidote to stress I would recommend to everybody. Let the cool air strike your face and you would forget what fatigue means. But today was different, however hard I tried nothing could calm me down, not even the soothing air. Tears trickling down my eyes, I reprimanded myself severely, “Listen girl, one more drop from your eyes and I’ll tag you a weakling”.

Two girls whispering amongst themselves, a 10 year something gaping at me as if he's seen an adult crying for the first time, a woman frowning but nothing could stop me from fighting those volley of tears. The crowd entered and exited, desperately waiting for my station to approach, I was wondering if all that wait is going to make any difference in mollifying me.Finally when I was just about to get off, someone placed a hand on my shoulder. It comforted me instantly. It was a motherly touch and finally my emotions were deterred by the stroke of its fingers.

I turned back, tried to see through my watery vision and what I saw to my horror was inexplicable.I had never seen her comforting anyone, I had never seen that emotional countenance on his face, I had never seen her act so humanly. I had seen him as a mendicant, a thug, a person who seeks sympathy but never had I seen her as a consoler. I’ve been extremely confused with the way I should address this entity but the way it made me feel today and replaced the soothing breeze with her comforting touch, I can only think of addressing her as a ‘she’…

I was always intimidated by people of her ilk, but why didn’t I fear today, what made me look at her eye to eye and convey that expression of gratitude??? I couldn't figure and that became the very sole reason of me getting insomniac that night. The break off with my beau was not hovering in my mind anymore. A clueless state had taken over my emotional side, as if some divine force had interchanged all the things in my mind I usually mull over, with something more profound. As if it was an epiphany moment, wrapped with a message. A message which asks you to stop turning a blind eye to things that surround you 'coz of your own predicaments.

Highly infuriated with the serpentine queue to the ticket counter, I bought coupons to save time. After wresting the crowd and somehow making my way into a cramped ladies compartment, I realized it was all futile. I was already late for work. Highly mortified with even the thought of teaching my kids about punctuality someday, I took an oath at that very moment that come what may, I'll not preach until I learn the ropes of time-management. The crowd lessened and I finally heaved a sigh of relief, but it didn’t take much time for my relief to swap into anxiety. I saw her sitting on her haunches right at the entrance, making a cone out of her betel leaf and stuffing it into her mouth. For a moment I considered talking to her, to be infra dig. After the indefinite hemming and hawing, I asked her, "what's your name" with an undertone of reticence in my voice. She gave me an animated smile and said “take care of yourself and stop traveling late nights” and got off the train. Tying me up in knots,yet again she left me in a state of contemplation.Years of education, experience in organizations now seemed diminutive all of a sudden. Did I ever care about a stranger so selflessly? I guess no…

Sharing pleasantries with her became a part of daily commuting routine. She virtually knew everything about me and vice versa. I’d even chastised her couple of times, asking her to get rid of her malicious habits. And I think I deserve a pat on my back for the successful makeover I'd given her.

Months elapsed, things had changed. I had got back with my 'once-upon-a-time' estranged lover. I was back to being the indifferent me, to the usual life surrounded by material needs and conventional choices, but I am sure she would still be alleviating a lot of my other disheartened cronies with her ‘comforting touch’…