Hindi Cinema - 90's

Lets talk cinema !! Not the Scorceses, not the Spielbergs, lets not even venture till Almodvar or go back in time till David Lean. Let Coppola rest in peace, and lets not even tingle Woody Allen's wit.

Lets concentrate on our movies, lets look at the most under-rated golden era of Indian cinema, the late 80's amd the 90's (i have a reason for this dissection) !!

I am a self confessed movie buff. I happen to pick up any conversation on cinema and my friends are often amused when i can identify the 2nd henchman of the villain or the latecoming cop, mouth his real name and his filmography. Its something that i grew up with, i had an entire generation of movie buffs, my aunts and uncles to look upto. Besides my Kakaji also had a video parlour so i ended up watching my favourite movies as a toddler, multiple times.

The cinema i was exposed to in my formative years was in the late 80s and 90s. Pure bollywood at its best. Something that a large part of the indian audience is despising now, in the quest of "different" movies. But back then, when they hadnt had that over dosage of heroines running around trees, fancy villains' hideouts, heroes avenging "doodh ka karz", "dost ke maut ka badla" or just kicking bad-asses for the pure fun of it, everybody loved it !!! The song sequences shot at cheap foreign locales just for the heck of it, the comedy track which bounced in completely out of sync with the movie's plot, the 1000 odd extra dancers swivelling behind the leading men and ladies, the two reels of car chases, the bootilicious "item" girls, the hero's side-kick who almost always got killed...whoaaaaaaa...the list is unending !!!

I will never be able to categorise the best of late 80's and 90s, create a top ten or twenty. What i would rather do is churn my brain cells and list out movies that have remained etched in memory, forever.....

Tezaab, the name came almost immediately comes into my mind, when i think of 90's cinema, heck it was in the late 80's but who cares. Tezaab, till date is the most complete movie i have ever seen in our tinsel-town. Its a script writer's wet dream !! "Kya nahin hai iss story mein Sir, Action, Drama, Romance, Comedy, Tragedy, Superhit Songs !!" This was as good as they came. Anil Kapoor at his cocky best, excellent support cast, Chunkey Pandey's best role in his lifetime. Superhit songs, the ek-do-teen is folklore now !! Johnny lever and gang in superb form. Annu Kapoor, as my favourite character from the movie, "Guldasta" !!

Speaking of Anil Kapoor, the actor is the last of the living legions of hindi cinema who saw it all then. The 90's where the Khan's came into the reckoning, but it sure did have the reigning kings then. Sunny Deol, was a rage, be it the "Taareekh pe Taareekh.." of Damini or the angry Commander with a necklace of grenades marching towards the Pakistani army in "Border", apna Sunny Paaji  was in top form. I am yet to see a pair of more expressive eyes, from a leading man, in scenes apart from romance. Ghatak, Ghayal, Ziddi, Salaakhen, Vinashak.....he did get typecasted, but never forgotten !!

When he was far away from Gandhigiri, and a litlle from the TADA case, Sanjay Dutt defined the word "Stud" in India in the 90s. Watch Sadak, Daud, Aatish, Yalgaar and you shall understand what i am talking about. People credit Shahrukh to bring about the revolution of the "Anti-Hero" syndrome in Baazigar, while Dutt's Ballu Balram in "Khalnayak", released in the same year was equally competent !! The movie i feel was one of Ghai's best till date (heck he makes duds nowadays !!). Sanjay Dutt in the fancy white coat with a stick in hand, crooning devilishly to "Nayak nahin...Khalnayak hun main...." Superb !!! I'm not even going towards the "Choli ke peeche" rage !! Dutt Jnr. went ahead post his debacles and made "Vaastav" India's answer to "Scarface" !!

90's also saw the advent of the Macho Men in the industry !! Ajay Devgan, launched in "Phool aur Kaante",

 was the true action hero, before maturing into a great actor, see "Zakhm" to know what i am talking about. Sunil Shetty never really did mature, but his initial days of glory shall be worth remembering, Mohra, Anth, Rakshak, Vinashak etc....the jail fight sequence in Mohra between him and a muscleman, the wrath of Shetty in Anth are as raw as stuff can get.

Before Akshay Kumar was killing audiences with his stupid, brainless "Welcomes" and "Singh is Kings", he used to be India's best action star (heck he still is). He round house kicked his way into bollywood, from Saugandh till the Khiladi brigade. The daring stuntsman, Akshay was most remembered for " Main Khiladi Tu Anari" with Saif, "Mohra" with Sunil Shetty, All the Khiladi movies he did alone, Saineek, etc. Remember the billiards table fight scene in Khiladiyon ke Khiladi ? Pure magic !!!! Akshay was also really good in his cameo in Dil Toh Pagal Hai, and a stupendously balanced performance in Sangharsh.

Aamir Khan, continued to win hearts, from Qayamat se Qayamat tak till Ghulam, Sarfarosh. My favourite memories are from Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar, the exhilarating climax - "C'mon Sanju change the gear...........TOP GEAR !!", the loveliest of songs...."Jawan ho yaaron yeh tumko hua kya?......" . One movie that i continue to love is "Akele hum Akele Tum" the desi version of Kramer Vs Kramer. I am too emotionally connected with this movie, dunno for wat reason. The dad-son camarederie was fab, i loved the songs, each one of them, even the recording room wala - "Chehra gulaabi, nazrein sharabi...zulfon ki tauba..tauba yeh samaa.."

 Salman Khan was the hottest thing that happened to bollywood in the 90s. We did have to wait, until "Veergati" though.Then came the rippled muscles, the chiseled looks and the string stare. They said he was 6th on the world's best looking men list....The dream followed...Judwaa, Pyaar Kiya toh darna Kya (the bare chested O O jaane jana creating furore), Jab Pyar kisi se hota hai (Salman never looked better).....they just kept coming. Acting ? Most noticeworthy were from Bhansali's brand.."Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam", a restrained "Khamoshi" apart from a superb Cameo in KKHH, or Salman teaming up wid Aamir for the best comedy of the decade "Andaz Apna Apna" !!!

The 90s however did see the advent of King Khan - Shahrukh. He came, he saw and he conquered. From the best of romantics in our generation to playing the dangerously obssessed lover, Shahrukh did it all. Screen Magic followed from DDLJ and went on till KKHH and Shahrukh was sitting strong. Often criticised and compared to Amir for lack of variety, Shahrukh did stick to a genre - Romance, but made it his Genre for times to come!! The most under-rated movie from Shahrukh was "Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa". The sore good boy loser was never more adored..

I understand the post is getting Hero specific, but those days Hero-worship was in fashion !! Anyways, Nana Patekar comes into immediate reckoning, for brilliant performances in most under rated movies, Yugpurush, Yeshwant, Prahaar, Krantiveer or the most rivetting "Parinda". Jackie Shroff was good in its n bits...there were occasional memorable ones from him as well, including "Parinda", though his best i believe was "Gardish", a heartfelt story of a good man gone wrong. Bobby Deol was quite the rockstar with "Soldier" and "Gupt" (Gupt being the best thriller i have seen in hindi cinema, apart from "100 days"), but faded away soon.

Hey wait i havent mentioned any leading ladies. Madhuri rocked in the 90s, maybe the only actress to carry movies on her shoulders, loved her in Dil Toh Pagal Hai, Mrityudand etc.

Mani ratnam made his entry with such rare gems like Roja, Bombay, Dil Se. The Bhatt camp continued strong, they introduced such good music to our cinema.....Phir Teri Kahani Yaad Aaayi....Aashiqui are almost legends now. RGV created milestones with Rangeela and Satya.

So far so good....my memories live forever....i still have a feeling i have left out some brilliant ones...will add up when i remember.  

Dead Idiots

"Likh Likh ke padaa hatheli par alpha beta gamma ka chaala, 
 Concentrated H2SO4 ne pura...pura bachpan jalaa dala...."

Is there an idiot in all of us ? Well, in most of us? Have you ever had a stupid urge to do something out of the ordinary...something that is not quite you...something weird ...something wild... And ended up realising that your naughty innocence wasn't quite appreciated !!!

I realised it quite early that the term "REBEL" looks great in ancient stories of independence or funky psychedellic bands !! Nobody cared a shit about how to take the term seriously. In the formative years, you needed gigantic balls to question the system, and lets say even if u had them, the metric system punctured them sore !!

What metric system? Ohh, cmon we've all been through that..... social prejudices, comparisons with batchmates, comparison with 1st-2nd-9th cousins, comparison with eminent figures in the family, pencil thin-narrow outlook (a blessing for all small town hoods), the rat race had it all !! And we SURVIVED !! We are unscathed...have managed to make something out of the lemons life threw at us. But that idiot, that innocent idiot within each of us took a large share of the beating.

Let me tell you my version of 3 idiots. The resemblance might be coincidental, and i wont care for the questions put in !!

They were 3 of them...the idiots...we'll call them Goat, Moose and Chomp. The friendship became thick...largely coz of the fact that they discovered each other early. They shared the same agonies of pressure and performance. They were average really...if you consider the rat race i'd just talked about, but each had a jest for life far more than the sky could accomodate.

Goat was the jolliest of them all, the adventure freak. He had the wackiest sense of humour, he could liven up the atmosphere in seconds and there wasnt a soul on whom goat's pranks wouldnt have worked. Goat was an athelete of great talent. He represented school in 4 variety of sports. His report card strived really hard to better itself almost every time, most intended to please his academician dad, feared and respected by all.

Moose was the moody poet. He was interested in literature at an early age, and his taste in forms of art was commendable for a boy of his age. He loved the duo not because he saw any likeliness in them but because they were so different from him. Their company changed Moose from an outcast to someone more acceptable. The teachers always looked up to Moose, and it was a staff room discussion that this boy is meant to excel in life.

And then there was Chomp. Completely non-existent if you ask the teachers, but there was hardly a soul in class that didn't like Chomp. Chomp strummed the six strings like he was born to do it. Otherwise, he was the definition of average, studies,sports, luck all alike. If there was any flash in the pan, it was Chomp who would be more surprised than the rest.

The board exam results was when it all began. The hard work, the comparisons, the expectations, the turmoil. The boys had seen off the pressure with enough valour, but now the result threatened to stare them in the eye...........

10 years passed off...... Dont ask how......they wont remember !!!!

He opened his latch and stepped into his flat. The laptop was carefully removed and kept on the table, so were the access card and VOIP number generator. He looked at his watch, a present he still wore everyday though the emotions with it had withered off long back, along with the woman who couldn't dream anymore with him. It was 11.40pm. Just 7 hours more before the Project Manager sits on his head again for scrutinising on the deadline extension. His eyes fell on the copy of "Ulysses" in the bookshelf. He'd bought it about 3 weeks back from Crosswords, but hadn't managed to go beyond page-2. There was a photo frame resting next to the pile of new-unread books. 3 unruly boys with the most virgin expressions of what fun meant to them, atop a hillock !! Moose smiled. The pain of the software coolie was giving way to fatigue and drowsiness as he lay on the bed.

"Moose had scored perfect in school, maybe a little too perfect for his dreams. He was coerced into the best boarding college for Science students in the state. Moose broke to the pressure but somehow managed a near perfect escape from the hostel (eventually the cops getting him home after a harrowing 12 days search) and 1 failed attempt at suicide during exams, which forced him to drop a year. He managed to complete a state university education in Computers and after repeated walk-ins made it to a big MNC. Its been 3 years for him now amidst the complex codes, the madness for on-site assignments and the stale coffee vending machines staring at him late in the night"


        All is Well                            All is Well                      All is Well                       All is Well         

The Blackberry curve was an efficient machine. It reminded him of all the important meetings he needed to speed thru the day and the protocol mails he had to reply to. What it had failed to remember was Jan 16th was his Mom's b'day. Now on a late night flight to Singapore, it struck him. The Rolex signaled 11.40pm. The air-hostess had already asked him curtly twice to switch off the cellphone. It was no use anyways. His parents were early sleepers.What he needed to concentrate more was the client presentation he had to give the next morning. What did the soul say? Well he had killed that thing a long time ago. Chomps sighed, a sigh which had a feeling, more of vindication than guilt.

"She was my best friend Goatee, i mean apart from the two of you (boys never state their best friends without embarrassment, though today was different). I have never imagined my world without her. And i ended up playing matchmaker for her with that swine Roshan. You know where he proposed her? At my place !! What was i doing, apart from getting snacks for both of them? Well i was   ensuring she got the best and was happy? Roshan is smart,rich and a man of the future. What have i got really, besides gifting her cute key-chains and strumming the guitar at her request?" Chomps' tears had vanished into Goat's black tee as he hugged him tight. 
Chomps modest background surprisingly made it easy for him to choose a target. He wanted money and shed all inhibitions for it. He went through a management program and took to sales immediately. The six strings gave way to six figure salaries. He changed jobs in a hurry for growth, and his days were passed with constant anxiety of meeting his numbers. The positions changed, the insecurity remained. At least this involvement didn't allow him to look back a single day and repent on the cold hearted beast/professional he had turned into.


    All is Well                            All is Well                      All is Well                       All is Well         

The eyes appeared hollow as he checked himself in the mirror. Surely medical interns were allowed to have deep hollow eyes when the AIMS test was approaching. The doctor he was assisting to today hadn't been kind and had referrred almost 29 patients to him for common sickness. The thick entrance preparations book lay on the table. Deep inside Goat knew it that he will not be able to clear the test. Only a handful did and he certainly wasn't one of them. His friends had started getting settled, married, established, and here he was, nothing but a QUACK still striving hard for the practitioners degree. The table clock showed the time as 11.40pm. He opened the book and went back to that page in his life.

"Service to mankind is service to God. It's a noble profession we have chosen for you to pursue and you would do better to prove our faith in you." Dad's voice echoed. Nobody had cared about what he wanted, for the greater good of mankind. Goat had been missing the mark more than he could remember. Life never decided to show a bit of mercy, and he understood this is how its going to be ever since the donation laden medical school seniors ragged him into near death situations. The jolly, jovial guy had turned into a stone. He hardly spoke to any of his friends and off late had started avoiding calls from home leave aside cancelling home trips since the last 2 years, with the fear of facing his father. Not this life, he'd tell himself. Meanwhile the fake drug prescriptions helped ease the pain....


    All is Well                            All is Well                      All is Well                       All is Well         


The song that inspired it all....







Give me some sunshine, give me some rain,
Give me another chance, i wanna grow up once again !!!!

Assassin's Creed

The night was jeering upon me. The droplets falling from above didn’t soothe the soul. Rain generally had a calming effect on me. Not this one. Every raindrop felt as hard as a stone targeted directly on me. I was heavy. I carried the burden of loosing someone. The moments of shock and grief had passed. What remained was the after effect, the realization of the fact that this has actually happened. And that wasn’t smooth.

The street lights were dim, or at least the pouring rain made them feeble entities. Darkness had always been more alluring to me in life. I liked the dark. Ever since childhood, I embraced darkness much unlike other kids. I liked the challenge of finding my way in the dark, I liked the uncertainty darkness threw at us unlike light, where everything was finite and tangible.

Yet I wanted to move close to reason today. I wanted to be rescued. I wanted…………

My name is Balthazar. You shall not get specific details about my existence. My survival depends upon it. I have faint memories of my child hood, my upbringing. I faintly remember my mother’s angelic face. I remember my vision from the cellar, of the men who sprayed bullets at her. I remember the agony and guilt in my father’s eyes. I still remember the one statement he made, “We shall live”. I remember the train journey along with Dad that looked like it would never end. I remember at least 12 different names against my photograph in Passports of various countries. I remember being taught “what was necessary to learn” by Dad, since I missed most of my schooling. I remember surviving alone as a teenager in alien environments, sometimes clueless about when I would meet my dad again. I remember watching children of my age playing from a distance. By the time I was 15, I realized I could understand and speak 9 languages. But I seldom spoke. I listened.

On a cold winter night, I saw father breaking through the door. He had been hurt. It was a bullet wound, I wasn’t surprised. I had figured out what he did for us to survive. Father recovered soon, and I expressed my wish to accompany him for his “trips” going further. I saw him controlling his emotions. He agreed. I shall remember the one thing he said then. “Be fast in your thoughts and actions, always. Your conscience will never be able to catch up with you.” I remember, hearing Father cry and scream that night. The loud monologues were a mixture of guilt, anger, intoxication and helplessness. The bloodline had caught up with the inevitable !!

I don’t think I was taught to handle weapons. I did it on my own, several times learning to do so after seeing father in action. What was more important was stealth. My childhood concept of the darkness applied here. I was the darkness nobody was supposed to see through. After my third outing, I was finally given the chance to complete a mission. The modified Remington sniper was cold and calm, almost inspiring me. The aim was ruthless, not bothered by stimuli.

The bullet wrote the history. I was born. I was the “Assassin”

I have often read about people fond of travelling, writing memoirs about their visits and anxiously looking forward to exploring new destinations. During my professional pursuits, I must have scourged the world, yet never quite enjoyed any locales. My work was to disappear, and not sightsee, much like the rabbit from the magician’s hat. Do you think it enjoys the experience ? My records stated myself having worked for nearly all the intelligence units, a few small governments and some ruthless corporate deals. Reputations never overwhelmed me, I had seen it all.

Fate has a tendency of going wrong when you are not looking. On that particular night. Now it all comes back to me. It was a set-up, a defection. Bad guy kills the bad guy and becomes the good guy. In this case we were the hunted at whose cost the CIA were looking to clear their name. They set us up on a goose chase, trailing behind to go for the actual kill. Escaping was the only option and we were good at it. At least I thought so. A bullet made it’s way to my father’s left thigh. He spoke amidst the pain. “Billy, I’d rather die in your hands than be left for the torture. Make it quick and make it painless.” I had never unheeded father’s advice, but this was near impossible. I looked around, they were closing in. No escape. “Be fast in your thoughts and actions, always. Your conscience will never be able to catch up with you.” The voice echoed. My father, my teacher, the only connection between me and my existence.
I embraced him. “Good bye father !!” My last words were deafened by the sound of the bullet.

Our Dreams !!!

Dreams !!! What are they made of?? How do they occur???

I thought of writing this ever since i had a nightmare, a week back. And while i struggle to put forward my words together i realise there is no subject as infinite or abstract as this.

First, for reality's sake lets delve into the ideas of the masters, Freud, Sketel etc etc !!! Freud's "Interpretation of dreams" presented several theories which challenged the evolution of thoughts in the human mind, over-mining a more cause and effect relationship between our actions and thoughts and the impact they carry upon our dreams. Symbolism (dan brown, you cant touch this) was a high point, though blatant references are made on representations of several sexual acts even sodomy, incest etc... Ewwww !!!! But true !! And then sketel went along later disassociating with his teacher and made several connotations for sexual references, such as cleverly devised words for pervertness or hysteria !!!

Too much of sex they got into isnt it ??? Why is that?? The only reason i can think of, is that all of these are neo classical theories or devised a little later in the early 1900s !!! Understanding that dreams are a representation of our ultimate fantasies, desires and fears, most of the time, the only activity that comes to my mind which joins these three line of thoughts is SEX (war also came into my mind, but the respondents to our oldies' surveys were the gentry mostly, not assassins and no mad-cap Hitlers for sure) !!! Hence the realisation, hence the interpretation and hence the hoopla !!!

Lets look at perspectives from a new viewpoint, a fresher scenario. Lets look at the current generation and understand the implication of our dreams !! We definitely have more to desire for, more things to fantasise about and much more to fear !!!

The modern day hedonist has a lot of fantasies and things he would desire for - Sex (of course the primal instincts will rule till the age we turn into robots and our mechancial di**s would ask for a version upgrade for engaging in intercourse), Fast Cars, Riches, Food ( its true), material possessions, et cetera!!!

The modern man also has a lot of fears, fear of death, fear of wars, fear of falling behind in the rat race, fear of non-performance (contexts are upto imagination), fear of bosses (various), fear pf loosing, fear from the ghosts of the past and the ghouls lurking in the future, fear of bomination from the society because of non-confirmist thoughts et al !!!

Let me ask you. Have you ever had a dream, which made you feel sorry about the fact that you dreamt it? Did you see yourself committing a dark act, a sin, something you cant imagine your self doing under the weirdest of scenarios? Thatssssssssss the range of the human mind !!!

I was often told, to go to bed with a happy thought, and that would make way for happy dreams !!! That didnt happen. I still start the end of my night, imagining myself in an utopic situation and analysing my path to get there !!! But later, as sleep covers me in it's misty blanket, the sub conscious self takes control and i realise i am not the master. I must give in....give in to my dreams. For good, bad, sinister or ugly, they are truly creations of my own !!!

P.S - There are these NO DREAM nights too, maybe you are too tired to dream during your peaceful siesta, or have too much to bother about as you wake up, to remember what you dreamt of last night !!

Sid Woke up !!!

The promos for Wake up Sid started appearing on newspapers more than a month before its release. It was a new age idea i suppose which definitely worked in attracting people to the whole "lazybones - coming of age" concept of the movie. And when it released, the whole hoopla fizzed out a bit. Because anybody who saw it, realised its just another "coming of age" movie, an attempt which has touched minor aspects if you truely see. Havent we already seen all of that already? Yet the treatment is fresh in whatever little the director gets to exercise his creative prejudices upon.

Firstly, Ranbir Kapoor does well. He takes to the role of a rich spoilt south Mumbai kid, as a fish to water. The innocence, naughtiness, immatureness and lost boy emotions are all at the right place. He along with Konkana make a fab pair who interact pretty well but their whole development of the chemistry is killed rather sacrificed to accomodate Sid's story, which isnt very well handled as well. One cannot help but feel dejected, when you look upon the manner in which the story directs Ranbir Kapoor towards Konkana in the end. Truly, much better was expected outta this. Konkana on her part got a tailor made role, and did justice to it. The glamour part...well you cant have everything, can you? But she still managed to look fairly decent, and me being her lawyer, why are our actreses supposed to look va-va-voomous everytime??

The support cast have done their bit, though this is out n out Sid's movie. However the ever so talented Supriya Pathak must have rubbed the script writer and the screenplay guys the wrong way. They have made a mockery out of the mom in the movie !!! Understood that she has this habit of blurting out broken english, but even in the emotional scenes which require her earthly charm and motherly touch, all we get to hear is bad english. This totally goes down unaccepted and her better presence could have given the movie some relief. Anupam Kher is restrained and compact. The chubby girl is adorable, reminds you of one of your girls in the pack, whom you always treat as a guy buddy. Rahul Khanna as by habit is wasted again (certainly in a more dignified manner this time compared to Love Aaj Kal !!!).

The movie had it's moments though, be it Sid's outburst, or when he comes to meet his mom after landing up on a job, they are definitely well enacted. What leaves you with a sour feeling is when you want more out of it and are left with a half baked product. I mean what was the use of all the retaliation, when the victory was just so small !!! Sid adjusted, but never was faced with a veryyy tough challenging situation to prove his mettle. But who is to be blamed on this then? If you touch a genre as dynamic as "Coming of age" you need to do and show more. The life of a "rich south mumbai kid" might have been left unexplored earlier, but even the best of lazybones amongst the masses will fail to connect with this boy. Is there a "Sid" in all of us? Well in parts yes, but when did you try to show those parts which would connect to the audience !!! All we are subjected to is the fancy cartoon obsession that is reflected in the cute t-shirts (i loved them though !!)

Decent attempt really, nothing like what i would remember until next year !!!

Depictions and Contradictions

Durga Puja just passed. It has always been a time for celebration in my life. As until now, the festival denoted a long trip back home. However that was not to be this time around. So the festivities were carried out largely in Mumbai and i must thank my Bong-o-bondhus :D for the same. After a delicious traditional meal, when we laid back chatting, an interesting topic came into foray for discussing and delving upon, the origin of Mata Durga !!

I wasnt an expert on hindu mythology, but knew my ramayanas and mahabharatas wid elan though !!! The stories we listen to during our growing years remain with us somehow and that forms a base for all answers we ask at later stages in life. Thats what i found out, after the discussion, which was healthy, though took a wild turn midway and some heat to go with !! There were two schools of thought. It all started with one statement. My friend said that Durga is Lord Shiva's wife. I disagreed with him. My point was Durga was actually derived from a divine source, long since the hindu's have identified and worshipped as "Shakti" or energy, to complete a particular task (killing Mahishasur the demon God), and she was the divine answer to all the prayers of Devas (the immortal Gods).

However somehow it is also allusioned that she was a fiercer form of Parvati, Shiva's original wife (Wikipedia mentions it and i disagree). My arguement was, keeping Shakti above all, Durga and Parvati might be considered as two tangents drawn from a single point, but they arent one alike. They are parallels, and a third and more fiercer depiction is Goddess Kali, who is denoted with Destruction, Time and the eternal Change phenomena. Now would you consider all the three to be one self ??? Is the answer, "Yes", because the source is the same??

My friend brought in a different facet now.

He said the whole transition and dual self can be compared to the Spiderman-Peter Parker's contrast. You will have to say, Spiderman is Mary Jane's boyfriend. Isnt it ?? They are the same person, end of the day.

I begged to differ. Peter Parker knows when he is Spiderman and Spiderman knows he is originally Peter Parker. Firstly this situation is that of the same person doing two roles. My justification is about completely different entities (Parvati, Durga, Kali) bound only by a single source - Shakti !!! Even if i am to overlook that, a change of form is a change in the person itself !!

Hence there is no recollection of any event or activity concerning another life (also refer to the schizophrenic effect of Niki Sanders in the earlier episodes of "Heroes").

There was a big justification awaiting to counter this idea of mine. My friend sure had decided to hit the nail at the right spot.

He asked me to recollect the most famous image of kali. I did (am putting the image below, for a clearer idea).

He said the image mentions the time when Kali went berserk with killing, and nobody could stop her. Finally the Devas pleaded with Lord Shiva to stop her as he was her husband. Shiva lay dead on her way, and Kali has her tongue coming coming out, because of surprise and coyness for having stepped on her husband's body (an act of sacrilege according to Hindu customs).

This was truly what was told to us as a part of the regular dosage of childhood mythologies, and i even believed in the same. However there were more points to contradict the same too.

The blood red tongue, which has resulted from Kali drinking the blood of demons, protrudes more than one would do as a result of coyness or an acceptance of surprise while commiting a mistake. In ancient texts references are drawn out for this position - mudra, as mentioned, that Kali here, gives a true depiction of the "Khachari Mudra", a stance which defies time (Kaal) and Space (Shiva himself). Hence, she protrudes her tongue not as a sign of surprise but because of her tremendous confidence in her self. She commands respect and fear and with this act wants to signify the importance of her supreme being. Allusions are also pointed towards this sign denoting death of the human individual ego.

The discussion ended though the topic is still debatable. I believe even now, Hindu Mythology is open ended. Finite conclusions can be drawn but alternate suggestions can never be negated.

A final touch to the topic, would be quoting Ramprasad Sen, a Kali devotee, in a poem where he mentions the complete contradiction of Kali's image to that of a mother, as she is nothing like what a mother should be expected to be:

"Can mercy be found in the heart of her who was born of the stone? [a reference to Kali as the daughter of Himalaya]
Were she not merciless, would she kick the breast of her lord?
Men call you merciful, but there is no trace of mercy in you, Mother.
You have cut off the heads of the children of others, and these you wear as a garland around your neck.
It matters not how much I call you "Mother, Mother." You hear me, but you will not listen."

Rendition of an unforgettable meeting

The phone rang mercilessly. I knew I was going to be deprived of my few golden hours of slumber. The clock showed 6.09am and the number displayed on my screen wasn’t a familiar one. I picked up the call.
“Hello”
“Still groggy in the morning as ever, aren’t you?” The voice was vaguely familiar, yet I wanted to be sure before blurting out any of my guesses. Who could it be?
“U do remember my voice, don’t you?”
I got irritated over not being able to recognize, the morning blues were getting on to me, “Well NO, I don’t. You mind explaining?” my voice hinted anger.
“Hmmmm…that’s too sad, anyways Shreya here, would you need more details ?”
I felt a heartbeat missing for a moment, I cursed myself mentally, for having been so rude and immediately apologized to her, “Shreya, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t get u, well wasn’t expecting you to call, I mean how could I, it’s been what, like ages?” “Where are you, how are you?”
“Hmm ages it has been Somu, I’m in Bombay and we need to meet up, that is if Mr. Busy Bee is free.”
“Yeah, yeah, for sure” I did a mental calculation, today was Saturday, and the afternoon wasn’t occupied. “How bout lunch, where are you putting up?”
We decided on a mutual place, exchanged pleasantries again and I hung up.

I stretched back on the bed. I could give the gym a miss today, my lazy self ruled again on the weekend. Although I ached to go back to sleep, I couldn’t help but wondering if the last 5 minutes actually happened in real time. Shreya called !! I went back in memory. Well there were so many memories of her that i shared, and in so little time that we spent.

She'd said her name should not mean credit worthy, it should mean freshness. She'd said she was against the theory of evenings making people sad, as she loved spending time looking at the setting sun, She'd said Rahul Dev Burman was sent to earth so that he could create music and go away to angeldom, she'd said she would ideally want to see a cut mark on my left brow, coz that makes guys look sexy, She'd been hysterically wild after her first tryst with Jack Daniels and cursed me for turning a Vodka person to Whiskey, even though she'd barely finished a peg of any spirit in her life and mostly held the glass to give company, she'd said love wasnt forever, it was a feeling and we needed to enjoy everybit of it till it prevailed, she'd said she loved me today but was unsure about tomorrow, literally, She'd cried on my lap looking at her tickets for Milwaukee, she'd laughed her guts off when i told her i'll meet her next when i would be 45 with a bald patch resembling an egg, She was a livewire, she could not be fazed out, could not be understood easily and could never be forgotten. She'd said we will not be in touch as it will definitely pain. And we didnt.

She'd said......I'd heard.....and life had played mischief with two souls, sometimes appeasing and sometimes the eternal pain !!

The meeting was for lunch, but that is barely what we had in mind. She hadnt changed a bit. The smile hadnt lost the genuineness neither had the eyes lost their glow. We were awkward to start off considering the time we had met each other after but soon found each other in the same craziness. The old camarederie was back, the way we'd left it.

There had been an abrupt halt on her smiling face, she said this wouldnt last yet again. I asked her to keep faith in her heart and memories in her mind whenever she thought of us. She gifted me a DVD of "Izaazat", a not so celebrated movie we both had liked and i'd commented to her that she quite resembled the free bird "Maya" i saw in the movie. I didnt have a gift. I loved her. Wasnt that enough ?

We parted...only to meet again...sooner this time. Life does spring in good surprises...and today i was a believer.