Feels like God!

Don't scream into my head like that.
Don't...
It is a barbed wire. Makes me feel like Jesus but like a God
that wants to destroy everything.
That hates to forgive because you still know not what you do.
Because lessons you don't learn.
Because illiterate you are.
Because you hate. I hate.
I could be strong but I want the slipknot stronger;
so that it could hold my fat heart and not let it breathe.
I am Jesus. See? I wish to die to wash your sins.
I wish to die to show off a martyr.
I wish to die.
I am Jesus. See? I am corrupt.
I do not like you.
Or anything else.



---
All things mighty and Biprorshee

They don't make 'em like me anymore...Thank God!

For every lull, there is a storm;
every silver lining, a cloud.
Maybe it is cool to turn a proverb upside down.
Or maybe it is just to accept the other face in the mirror.
I could sit back and scrutinise this gash
Or I could lie down and look inside it.
Is it just a scratch with a few drops of crimson that makes me cringe?
Or is it how I could show you ripping the wound,
a whole pound of flesh, boiling inside?
What makes the lining fall off everytime?
What makes the serene seem so pathetically chaotic?
And chaos has no different meaning here. It is what it is. And it is not welcome.
It is a hundred faces screaming together. It is a hundred nails scratching the blackboard.
It is pain!
Life, that was me smiling at you a day back. And this is me mocking my own self a day later.
And you are calling me names too...
like that ugly kid in the park who hated my toys when I was a child.
Life, this is not called getting even.
Life, you are a vindictive monster.
Life, you should not be me!

---
Nothing bright nothing Biprorshee.

Just curious...

Why eyes that shall never hide?

Why speech that shall never speak?

Why heart that hates the mind?

Why mind when never mind?

Why you when you walk away?

Why me when I still stumble?

Why we when there’s still them?

Why them? Why them?

Why death with a life saving jacket?

Why life with no painkillers?

---

Why Biprorshee?

Loop

Window. Rust.

Ventilator. Cardboard.

Box. Cramp.

Breathe? Breathe.

Air. Pollution.

Lungs. Charred.

Needle. Vibgyor.

Dream. Insomnia.

Yes. No.

No. No.

Laughter. Gas.

Tear. Shred.

Life. Wow.

Death. Heil!

Death. Lazarus….

---

All Biprorshee nothing and nobody

theunderground.in interview with me ahead of the Albatross EP release

So these boys, Aman Bhadauria, Vaibhav Bakshi and Rishab Bhoot started this web site called http://www.theunderground.in/ to promote the underground metal scene. Do visit because it looks just awesome and is easily one of the better looking spaces on the net amid all the clutter.

Vaibhav got in touch with us at Albatross for an interview ahead of our "Dinner is You" EP release. Following is the conversation that took place between Vaibhav and yours truly...

Hey Biprorshee, with EP release just around the corner, how are things looking?

Hi Vaibhav! While we would love to say that after having wrapped up all the work in the studio, we are chilling now, it wouldn’t be very close to the truth. Albatross is excited about the material that has been produced and we really can’t wait for the release. We’ve already mailed all the stuff to Sweden, but due to the recent volcanic bullshit, the DVDs are still in transit. Having said that, there are a lot of other things that are to be taken care of. We are racking our brains over the distribution of the EP, we are thinking of live gigs, the band look etc. Yes, we are still having fun!

So when is it releasing?

We haven’t decided on a release date yet. A lot, of course, depends on when Andy sends us the mastered version. To cut a long story short, we are hoping for a May release.

Since how long have you people been working on this?

“Dining Table” was first recorded and released online as the second Albatross single after “Gigi” sometime in mid-2009 when the band was still Riju’s studio project. As the EP idea was floated, Riju furthered the concept of ‘Kuru’ writing more material. We formally entered the studio with our songs almost as soon as the steady band line up was put together; sometime around January this year.

“Dinner Is You”? It’s quite a unique name, is there any message or story behind it?

Thanks! Glad you think so. I don’t know about the message bit but sure there is a story to it. That is what we are about. Heavy metallers and story tellers with the whole EP being one “horror story”. While most of you folks who have heard our stuff before and know about the band have a broad idea of the concept, we wouldn’t want to let the cat out of the bag yet, would we?

Can you define the sound of Albatross?

I am sure this is one question that stumps most metal artists or even other musicians for that matter. Sure, we can throw fancy genre names such as “heavy metal”, “death metal”, “black metal” blah but that really wouldn’t be fair trying to slot the sound and music. We’ve been called everything from Literature metal to Avant Garde art metal; truth be told whatever floats your boat man :P

Nonetheless befitting the kind of premise we are working, the ideas we have; we have attempted to bring out the eeriness and the dark elements associated with the story we are telling in our songs. We think we have been fairly successful trying to do that. That is something, we think that will stand out and be noticed when it comes to the “Albatross sound”.

Tell us something about the line-up.

The good part about putting the line-up together is that we never really had to spend too much time deciding on whom to zero on. Every member in the band has been the first and only choice. That speaks a lot about how clear Riju has been about the whole thing.

As you’d probably know already, Albatross is Workshop and ex-Old Monk’s bassist Riju Dasgupta’s brainchild and was a studio project for long where he collaborated with various artists from the local scene. The eventual line up was formally put up only in January this year, as I’ve already told you in an earlier question.

A band concept like this needs not just good musicians but like minded ones. Riju and I know each other for a while now and are pretty much on the same wavelength when it comes to our tastes in music and literature (both very important elements in Albatross).

After having done the vocals for “Gigi” and “Dining Table”, I was adamant that if the band eventually went live, I HAVE to be on vocals because Riju’s ideas thrilled me totally. I’m very glad Riju took my “threat” seriously and agreed to let me get on board.

Raj and Riju, again have worked together at length while in Workshop and while composing and recording “Dining Table”. Not just a brilliant guitarist but Raj is one of the best musicians we know with an incredible ear for all that sounds fantastic. There couldn’t have been a better dude at work when it comes to composing those killer riffs and his skills at music production are an added bonus.

Risking sounding repetitive, Jay too is somebody Riju and I know for long and know well. Since his early days with Colossus (Jay’s band), Riju wanted to eventually work with him. Needless to say, Jay brings in awesomeness on those skins. The kinda stuff he has done while we re-recorded “Dining Table” is legendary.

Jimmy is the only dude who makes Albatross seem more like a bad ass metal band and not a teary reunion of blokes who have “known each other for long”. He plays guitar for his Hindi band ‘Moksha’ and he came to Albatross highly recommended after showcasing his skills at MTV Rock On.

Not to forget, you will be pleasantly surprised to hear Mihir Joshi, of The Works’ fame who has been a huge source of support and has done some killer guest vocals on the album.

Who came up with the name of the ep?

Our good friend, Arjun Dhanraj (from Nerverek) who was Riju’s original choice to sing “Dining Table”. He was the one who thought of it while recording the song during Albatross’ studio project days. Yes, there is a Arjun version of the song and no, we will not give it to you. Let us hit it big and our fans shall bootleg that.

“Do you know of this alternate version of “Dining Table”?? :P :P :P

We all know Andy LaRocque is mastering the ep, how much difference is that gonna make?

Fucking huge, man! That’s the difference Andy is going to make. We could go on screaming how Andy LaRocque is a bloody legend and how it is an epic win for us with him being associated with our debut EP.

It’s not just us being awestruck with the King Diamond lead guitarist mastering our EP but we have and you too must check out the stuff that comes out of Sonic Train Studios. We were blown and we cannot tell you how excitedly we wait to lay our hands on “Dinner is You”.

Also, the “Andy LaRocque brand name” on the EP does Albatross a world of good. Wouldn’t you be kicked to hear an Indian band that comes approved all the way from the King Diamond family, the man who has done it all, all that we have barely begun to do.

Final words for the fans?

This one’s going to be worth the wait! We are proud of what we are about to bring to you folks and nothing would give us a greater kick when you sing along to our songs at an eventual Albatross gig coming soon near you.

Thanks a real fucking bunch for having supported Albatross since it began. Thanks for all the downloads and recommendations. Keep listening to the Master. Let Kuru infect you too!

Check out their new samples at www.myspace.com/albatrosshorror

---

All things bright and Biprorshee

Saale Haraami...!!!

I am a bastard. Not the kind of introductory line that would suit your refined taste and society, I know but such is truth. I am a bastard and literally so. What I mean is that my father, whoever and wherever he is, fucked Henna and conveniently forgot that the act could sometimes result in creating another disinterested life in a cursed womb.

Henna, by the way is my mother or the way I like to put it, my ‘mother’s’ name. Well, she couldn’t care less. I don’t even know if she can put a definite finger on a man and tell me, “He is your father!!”...No... “He was the one who fucked me to cause you”. But she can’t. And she won’t either. She does not talk to me. And I do not give it too much thought myself. I find it utterly amusing sometimes and even let out an occasional giggle when I think of Henna’s patient wait as her tummy swelled up and her body eventually puked me out. Why did she even bother?

So, now you know, I am a bastard and this is my life. Or death??? Whatever is the opposite of the word ‘life’ because mine is not the classic case of living anyway.

If it offends your otherwise sensitive selves, I have a name too. And a story behind that as well, like almost everything. You have a faint idea that Henna is probably not very crazy about me. Her brother, Asif or ‘Cutting’ as he is known around here, of all people took pity on me and gave me the occasional kind stares and looked out for me now and then.

I do have a name like most of you, in case you were wondering. I have Cutting to blame for the same. He named me Junaid after the first man he killed. He got 700 rupees for the job. “Junna, I worked hard for that money. Those seven hundred-rupee notes made me feel worthwhile for the first time ever,” Cutting once told me. My little moment of pride that was as I thought at least I reminded someone of self worth.

But not many call me by that name. It does sadden me; one of those very few things that do. I like the sound of it. “JOO-NAYY-ED!” I’d reply the very first time someone calls me by that name. Otherwise I tend to ignore. Unlike Cutting, I do not obviously have anything that ‘reminds me of self worth’.

Like that one time, this fellow I bought my hash from called out, “Oi, you motherfucker! You don’t need any maal today?” I ignored. He was probably referring to my father. Quite literally so, he was the one that noun suited best.

Now, don’t think all Junaid is about are those sad, dark and clichéd things the streets are made famous for by the movies. Oh! I am happy, more often than you’d know. Ignore the illegitimate bit, the rant of ‘lacking self worth’ and some such, I am happy.

Did I tell you about Harish? The only one besides Cutting who is allowed to call me Junna. I taught him to roll the perfect joint and make the best roaches out of cigarette packs. And only Harish has access to my best hash. I enjoy listening to him as he yaps endlessly about his girlfriend, he so loves and the school, he so hates.

I once even wore his old uniform and sneaked into his school with him. His girlfriend is an idiot and his school does not teach anything I could teach its students in a day.

Harish’s father is your regular office going guy who usually has this big grin on his face each time he pays our ‘home’ a visit. I leave to smoke up at the temple when he does. It does not take a genius to know what Harish’s father and Henna are up to. He forks out some money to me as well with his signature grin. So Harish’s father keeps me happy as well. “Bastard, you are one expensive family,” he often says. Bastard? Of course!

There is one more thing you probably do not know about this bastard. He is a dead bastard. No, really! Henna took that bottle of Old Monks once and smashed it on my head. God knows why! The last thing I remember as I hit the floor was hearing her say, “What a waste of good rum!”

I think Cutting wept and so did Harish. At least I hope they did!

---

All things bright and Biprorshee

So what is wrong with me?

They call me attention seeker. Someone said, "Biprorshee thinks if he thinks unconventionally and differently, he'd be cool". Not that I'm complaining or have taken offence but I'm thinking what seems to be the bother.
The culprits here are two film makers -- Mr. James Cameron and Mr. Rajkumar Hirani. Clearly, the toasts of the season, the men of the hour but I'm not impressed. So, I'm what you call an elitist, someone trying too hard, pretentious, fake and the works.
But I'm so sorry dear world; I hated Avatar and had my set of issues with 3 Idiots.
Let's start with Christmas day or actually a few hours before that when a few of us usual suspects decided to have a pre-Christmas dinner together and follow it up with some alcohol at a friend's pad.
A few pegs, a corny movie and some snooze later, I find my bunch of merry men (and women) deciding to take off with a considerate "You sleep! You need to wake up early in the morning." pat on my cheek. Too sleepy to even try to comprehend the situation, I shrug my shoulders, gulp another peg and crash.
The need to wake up early was 3 tickets for a morning show of the Cameron extravaganza and as expected, I reached well after the flick started.
Now, I've read Facebook status messages that claimed Avatar was the best movie experience ever and some more blah. I yawned. The 3D glasses were bad and it didn't make much difference if I wore them or not. But my basic issue was, "Where and what is the story, guys?"
What was so mindboggling about yet another out-of-the-planet war garnished with a love story, an insider job going bad and stuff that would make our home bred storywriters claim divine status???
Why would I want to celebrate a movie only because the "Special FX were insane"? No, I'm sorry, I've seen other movies that had killer FX with a storyline and performances that kept me entertained. One being Cameron's very own masterpiece.
Another friend who probably thinks the same way as most do about me passes a legend remark -- "Dude, you are asking for an item number in an art cinema". While I totally understand his sentiments, I would like to wonder if the story in a movie has now the same significance as an 'item number'.
Avatar was dumb, very very dumb and after all these justifications, your honour, if my perspectives are still taken to be as a way to be different, please enlighten, what is wrong with me?
Case two and we go back even further to the summer of 2004 when while on a trip to Baroda, I found one lonely little book stacked ignored under the 'New Arrivals' section at a book store there. The title of the book read, 'Five Point Someone - What Not To Do At IIT!'. I picked it up, scanned the jacket and put it right back. I was at the fag end of the vacation with only a few, no, very few hundreds in my pocket. No reason to buy the book but I did. And I read, loved and recommended the same.
What I loved about the book is of little significance here and the fact that the whole world loved it in the months to come and an IIT and IIM graduate soon had enough money to give up a plush bank job and "focus on writing" will of course not count when I would want to be counted not as a black sheep.
Ok let's not digress. So what turned me off 3 Idiots that was based on the above novel? The fact that too many people liked it already? Or that it made people talk of how fantastic the movie seemed much before having seen it? Or maybe that annoying man, his wife and doubly annoying kids sitting next to me at the late night screening?
No, let me first chalk out what I thought worked great for the movie. The look and appeal of the film, the lightheartedness, the music and the beautifully penned lyrics and to an extent the performances.
I say, to an extent, because say what you have to but Aamir 'Mr. Versatility' Khan doesn't look convincing as a student anymore. Seriously, give me a break. Nor do Madhavan or Sharman Joshi. To take nothing away from their performances but we have all been in college sometime and I'm not even talking post graduation. I think we were a bit younger then. Yes, it matters!
I say, to an extent, also because Boman Irani hams and how. "It is difficult to talk like that ya", I'm told but why did you need to anyway?
Mona Singh? I think now I love the braces more.
I say, to an extent, also because most of the performances otherwise are endearing really. Be it the 3 Idiots themselves, Kareena Kapoor or Omi Vaidya ('Silencer' if you can't recognise him). The performances are sincere, the screenplay tight.
However, it is Rajkumar Hirani that is the best thing about 3 Idiots and probably, the worst too.
It is a major Munnabhai hangover. The same solution to the world's crises. Be a black sheep, be annoyingly nice yet eccentric and the hardest of hearts shall melt.
While the first half was enjoyable, the second half seemed as if Hirani had run out of ideas where and how to end it all. It was long, over the top and almost a headless chicken. Seriously guys, while I'm sure engineering geeks are known to come up with the most eccentric 'inventions' but don't you think delivery with a vaccum cleaner is a bit too much to gulp down?
While it is great that the movie is 'based on' and not an 'adaption of' the novel, the direction the story takes in the film is very bizarre. Why the whole Javed Jaffery angle? The mystery of the protagonist could still be maintained.
There were some brilliant instances in the book that were ignored. While the 'insti roof' became the 'water tank', it should've been better captured. The roof almost was another character in itself in the book while the water tank was pure wasted. Anybody who has had a similar adda would know what I'm talking about. An adda is not just where we sat, smoked some gaanja, gulped some rum and slapped each other's backs. It was almost another buddy in the gang.
While there are excerpts that would probably make you 'roll in the aisle' there are others if you think about it, would make you cringe at the sheer 'seen it oh so many times before' nature. The baby delivery scene was one, of course and the whole 'kidnapping' the bride from her wedding was one more.
Utterly predictable, it gets post the interval basically!
And of course, the utterly irritating war against the education system. Again, it was just a part of the story in the book not the main theme.
Bhagat probably will continue all his life basking (read writing) off the glory of his debut novel. I just hope Hirani doesn't do the same. It will be a pity because while I'm not too crazy about the author, the film maker, I have great respect for.
Bah! I tried hard not to make this look like a 3 Idiots review and mask it behind my personal grudges. I failed.
So, what is wrong with me?


---
All things bright and Biprorshee

The Unforgiven ...

I had a friend....I loved her, everybody loved her and she loved us all...then somewhere, things went wrong...she needed us...we weren't there...instead we hurt her worse...she kept quiet...she just went numb as I could see...

we never got back that warmth...

then somewhere along the way, she lost her son...we were all there...but I could hardly see a handful concerned...she kept quiet...she went more numb as I could see...but she smiled...she smiled at us all...(yes, she laughed at us all)...but she knew when to say "stay away" to us...we couldn't figure out how she could not need us anymore...at least I couldn't...

she moved to a city close to mine...we promised to meet each other and after a lot of such plans that never took shape, we actually did...I met her...we hugged...we talked..we had fun but I could see she'd not let

me cross a certain line...I didn't say anything...we had a lovely day...we never met after that...

I asked myself what could have possibly gone wrong...I got my answer...we never gave her love when she wanted it...we were there to hurt her...more...we made her numb and yet we wanted her to come up to us and be apologetic for something we all began...and then I knew it's too late...the girl had learnt her lessons...

she doesn't need anything, anyone, anymore...I knew it was too late...and WE were all responsible!

---

All things bright and Biprorshee

Mine and Yours, Lovingly ...

It rains again, do you hear?

Do you feel the drops break on your pale face?

Do you still take joy? Do you smile?

Do you remember?

I taste the rain again

To wonder if it tastes too different from mine

It’s just as bland though, and tasteless

Like my twinge that is no fun anymore

Hopelessly hopeful makes me fetch my cup for more

Two spoonfuls of sugar and I promise I’ll smile like a kid

I think of you too, you know that

I’m not selfish you know

My love’s almost a favour

To you and to me.

I’m not selfish, you know

Do you still smile? Do you still think of me?

Do you still long for us to be under the same rain?

I do.

I do because the rain is your heart

Which when I kiss shatters into a hundred pieces

The rain is you.

It rains again, do you hear?

It rains again, I love you.

---
All things bright and Biprorshee

Lies and more lies....

It's a hard day's night. But I ask myself as I tiptoe back to my second floor flat, "Which night isn't?".

I knock gently at the door, careful to not use the doorbell. The door opens in a flash and I hold on to the stairs trying not to fall off as she wraps her arms around my legs and screams, "You're home! Yay! Now we'll have dinner, we'll finish the ice cream and I'll kiss you just as you like it when you tell me that you love me!"

Ok, now I'm this short of screaming out loud. Do I blame her for all that I've lost? Or just that one thing that I've lost and I'm the poorest man in the world? Do I blame her for loving me this crazily? Do I blame her for reminding me of my only heartbreak over and over again? Do I blame her for being such a spitting image of her mother, the woman who'd probably be the other person hugging me right now at this unearthly hour and probably saying the same things? Hold back a while darling and let me think am I insane to be loving you or even crazier to doubt if I should be loving you? Hold on, darling, hold on!

She locks up her other best friend in her room lest his barks and craving for attention should hog into her moment in the sun. And I'm so crazy to already think that I'm her best friend. I doubt too much. It's just fitting that I should be so lonely. I deserve it.

As I walk out of the shower and slip into 'something comfortable', she narrates how she punched down the bully in her class who was trying to snatch the sandwich she fixed for herself in the morning. She had, in all her 5-year of innocence, slipped in one half of the same almost neatly packed in foil paper into my haversack. She is careful not to ask me anything about it. Her wide eyes ask me nonetheless. My smile lies, "It was the best sandwich in the world".

As she gulps down her glass of milk and I empty my plate, she offers to clear the table. She does. And then I clear it. :)

I know what she is waiting for now. It's my favourite time before sleep too. I sink into my easychair and she jumps on my lap resting her head on my chest.

"Now show me again how Ma smiled when both of you held me for the first time in the hospital. Tell me again, don't I smile like her?", she asks.

I'm trying hard like every time to hold back those overwhelmed eyes of mine and look at her lovingly at the same time. It's a balance I'm horrible at striking. It is a lie, I'm trying to get better at.

I light my last cigarette. I have tried my best to avoid this dastardly habit of mine before her. I exhale. She screams, "It is winter. Just like how the smoke came out of your mouth the last time we went back to Jaipur".

I swear this is going to be my last cigarette ever. I lie again....


---
All things bright and Biprorshee

Hurrah Everybody!!!

"Goli khaya, zor se chillaya, mombatti jalaya, gussa bhi dikhaya par saala vote dena yaad nahi aaya! Mumbaikars, chalo Leopold's daaru peene!!!"

Here's to the magnificent turnout for the Rajya Sabha polls in Mumbai! Take delight and the next time you bring out the candles, shove it....

---
All things bright and Biprorshee

A Colossal Push

Read something online. It made a lot of sense. 'A Colossal Push' it is called.

-----------

A COLOSSAL PUSH

This might seem longer
but carry it with you
like a feathered sprinkle
touching your invisible wings
don't let it break
this charm of a dream
it takes you where the world is
where everything works the way it is
make it grow
like a temptation in the dark worlds
but don't let the force tag you with it
else the fate of Icarus will be yours
keep the faith glowing

-----------

---

All things bright and Biprorshee

Sour nothings....

What good is a happy heart if not an oxymoron?
Two lives, four words, half a dozen tears...
...and the world's love...


---
All things bright and Biprorshee

Cacophonica

Sang a song of six pence...
...A music just as cheap as this life!!!


---
All things hated and Biprorshee

Swine thing!

This space has been devoid of any activity for a long time. But that is so me. I just stand amazed (and happy) looking at the the number of my posts. I'm even looney enough to calculate the percentage rise annually. :P

Anyway, amid all the swine talk that is in the air and handkerchief makers who can't stop thanking God enough in my lovely little cursed city, I, all of 26 braved the flu and managed to catch Kaminey long after all of my good friends are through with their second and third watches of the flick.

Thanks to a party I had no strength or will to attend and Riju Dasgupta who promised me 3 hours of doing nothing before he could grant me his darshan, I made hay while the sun set. Tiptoed into Eternity Mall, Thane and treated myself to front row tickets to the flick everybody can't stop talking about.

To cut a long story short, no, I did not think Vishal Bhardwaj ushered in a brave new world of Hindi cinema with Kaminey. I'm sorry but for once I do not agree with "India's widest read film critic" (so says Wikipedia) Rediff's Raja Sen and his magnificent 4.5/5 rating. Sen could also be India's most hated film critic. Check out the flak he receives for each of his review in the Rediff discussion forum.

But Sen could take a walk, I walked out at the end of the movie exhausted and a tad disappointed. While some of my friends could attribute it to my penchant for disliking all that is popular but such isn't the case here.

I fail to understand why-oh-why could such a potentially strong plot move at a pace akin to cabs in Andheri at 6-30 pm. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels? Maybe! I was left wanting more. The woven plot made for some serious Guy Ritchie recall but that is not a bad thing at all. The dark theme brought back Maqbool to me after the rustic Omkara but 2.5 hours is a tad too long for the confusion to culminate in the final melee.

The shaky shots work fine reminding me of those 3D rides I enjoyed so much as a kid as I saw myself running with Shahid Kapoor (evidently that's the next best thing Kapoor does in the movie besides delivering a top notch performance..RUN) but it kind of gets a bit overdone.

Charlie Sharma's sudden breaking into philosophical discourses every now and then doesn't work for me. Sure, I understand when you're telling me that I'll get jacked not because of the path I choose to take but the one I choose to leave behind, Charlie but the dialogue sounds cheesy like nothing else and especially when you have to repeat it more than once. A similar thought for your "life's doosra mauka".

The linear way of narrating the story tends to irk me somewhat. But that, of course is a very very personal observation. Me thinks a non-linear narative structure could have made this movie a hell lot interesting.

The end melee is yet another disappointment. A plethora of confusion and a couple of dozen gun-crazy goons make a long and boring climax. Shoot 'em all up, I say.

However what pricked me most was the preachy nature of a movie like this and the utterly and ridiculously run-of-the-mill end. "Zindagi tujhe doosra mauka de rahi hai", "Guddu's twin children", "Charlie's Mikhail & Co."....oh dear brother!!!

Clearly, Kaminey rides high on the performances. One more of those films that pick the lesser-known fine performers but such is the tribe of Bhardwaj and my once favourite RGV. I could still thank Vishal Bhardwaj endlessly for Deepak Dobriyal. Think Rajju Tiwari, the jilted lover, the Roderigo in Omkara or Thapa in Maqbool.

Bhardwaj does a similar favour with Chandan Roy Sanyal who plays Mikhail. An endearing character, I sure felt sorry it didn't last more than it did. While I have already said how the length of the movie annoyed me, I would've liked it better had fine tuned actors like Rajatabha Dutta and Deb Mukherjee been given some more meat and not come across as utterly wasted. I mean, c'mon, your movie is already as long as it is!

Amol Gupte's portrayal of Bhope Bhau makes me wonder why we don't see more of him on screen. Priyanka Chopra does every justice to Sweety Bhope but is clearly overshadowed by Shahid Kapoor to whom this movie belongs.

Kapoor's work reminded me, I don't know why, but a lot of Ken Ghosh's god-awful movie Fida, that was thankfully forgotten 5 years ago. While I'd do myself a favour not talking of that horrid experience of beating-my-fist-to-my-head-because-it-felt-so-good for 3 hours, I knew I had liked Kapoor's sincerity to his braindead character.

I'm glad Kapoor has nobody to steal his thunder this time after Jab We Met (He was just as good if not better than his ex-flame). And then there are two of him this time to take care of any such insecurities. Yay! I'm sure everybody has been saying this; I'll repeat too,"Watch out for more of this guy!"

I'm too bored already to talk anymore of the movie lest I too make an epic of a short story if I haven't done it already. My apologies if I have and my apologies to that cute couple who couldn't make out any more post interval when I moved a few rows behind and were busy looking at me before every kiss they stole. "Kaun dekha, kaun dekha???....Koi nahi!" :)

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All things bright and Biprorshee

Nothing remains but the dance....

Michael Jackson
August 29, 1958 - June 25, 2009
Healed the World!

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All things bright and Michael Jackson

Came crawling faster! By God, obeyed the master!!!

This post comes a week too late and I can't be sorry enough for the same!
Avoiding any further fluff, this is my tribute to the legend that is Metallica.
What prompted this? Unless you're a Metallica fan and have been living under a boulder, you'd know barely a week before, the little short of being the most worshipped heavy metal band was inducted into Rock & Roll Hall of Fame!
If one mere fan among the many zillions can be this overwhelmed, I can just about guess what it could mean to those four gentlemen and everyone associated with the band since they single-handedly invented and perfected a concept called "Thrash Metal"! Big, BIG up to you!
I happened to know of the development courtesy my fellow metalhead brother, Rohan Moorthy. Sometime early last month, as I was walking back home one late night after work, my phone buzzed. Rohan's text read "Metallica to be inducted into Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. (Dave) Mustaine writes them a letter of congratulations. Metallica invite him for ceremony party and induction......" I smiled; both at the Hall of Famers and the olive branch.
Now, as I scan through YouTube watching the ceremony, I gullibly believe that Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, Rob Trujillo and Jason Newsted did thank me personally when they thanked their fans.
I might have cared to begin this note with a disclaimer that would have probably helped to make me seem a less a charmed fan and more a citizen of heavy metal. I'll try now nonetheless.
Disclaimer: I'm not as much a big Metallica fan as I'm an Iron Maiden or Megadeth freak!!! So there!
But this is not about which is a better band or who is a bigger fan. This is about something, I shall honestly say, not every headbanger feels! This is about something bigger. This is about being a family!! A family of outcastes, a family of wasted teenagers and jobless adults, a family of angry hearts and violent minds?? No, this is a family that lies deep under that superficial shit you all see, a family that lies deep and lies warm and lies strong.
Metallica was one of the first bands to have given me that welcome feeling into the fraternity. I've long believed in this one adage--"Birth, School, Metallica, Death!" I've moved on long before to bands I thought I respect more, bands I thought were technically better, bands I thought and the world told me that "didn't sell out" only to come back to this powerhouse of soul.
For quite some time, there was this one song that defined Metallica to me. Little wonder it would be, it was "Nothing Else Matters". It was epic and I couldn't care about what the band had already offered to the world long before The Black Album hit the stands. When I eventually picked up the album a good 10 years since it actually was released, I was shocked to hear the opening riff of "Enter Sandman" as the tape rolled in my walkman. People actually play that fast??? People actually like it????
Don't laugh but I didn't even know Kill 'em All, Ride the Lightning, Master of Puppets or ...And Justice for All even existed. It wasn't long enough before I knew better. That did not mean I abandoned that little tape that introduced heavy metal to me.
As much as I risk sounding unbelievably naive, I must admit because it is nothing but the truth that Metallica's thrash metal was my best refuge in few of the toughest days I've lived.
I remember banging my head like a man possessed to "The Unforgiven", "For Whom The Bell Tolls", "Master of Puppets" and so much more locked up in my little room that defined my little world for a long time.
I remember hearing "Master of Puppets" for the first time and getting goosebumps (and that is not in the least bit over reaction) listening to the epic guitar solos. I remember hearing "Fade to Black" and wonder what kind of a mad genius can write a song that beautiful and so simple. I remember hearing "(Welcome Home) Sanitarium" and feeling grateful that music voices what I want most--"Leave me be". I remember watching the video for "One" and thinking "This is it! This is so fucking it!!!" I remember "Anesthesia (Pulling Teeth)" and wondering "That's a bass guitar being played???" I remember Metallica and I salute!
It could be argued forever between the Megadeth and Metallica camps over who stayed true to the basics of thrash and who gave in to commercial interests. However, it cannot be denied that had there been no Metallica, there would be as much signs of Megadeth.
Metallica today is arguably the most "popular" rock band in the world and maybe they indeed have long frowned upon single "I Disappear" and the almost shunned by loyalists St Anger to thank for the same.
They might have betrayed by chopping their locks, getting Napster banned, shunning the essence of thrash metal in later albums but they have serviced and nurtured the family long enough to be remembered and respected forever.
Outsider music you might have felt, this always was but had you paid heed to Flea (Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist who inducted Metallica into the roll), you'd know that you chose to forget that while we outsiders made a "song and dance" about anger and violence, we channelised our pain and hurt into something creative that helped many other in need to embrace the gift with open arms and heart. Something beautiful was built by us urchins that let us stick to guitars while you fine world still pulled out a gun. Think about it! We barely sang about bullets, you shot them and still do!
And today I cannot thank anybody more than Metallica for having given me a gift I've held on ever since and have felt nothing but immense pride each time I made a fist of fury, opened it and found my escapade.
I thank only James, Lars, Dave, Ron, Cliff, Kirk, Jason and Rob for the music and the life. Godspeed!
...and to Cliff Burton--"Bell bottoms shall forever rule and you shall forever be that madman behind 'Anesthesia (Pulling Teeth)'. You should've been here. Rest forever in peace!"


"So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trust in who we are
And nothing else matters"


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All things bright and Biprorshee

Bengaluru Tales...

Now that it's been over 24 hours since I'm back from the Garden City and have little to write about on the mutual fund front (like always), I must put on record my whirlwind visit.

Friday the 13th began with the realisation that not a single thing has been packed for the trip and I can't simply wake up at 5AM. I nonetheless made it to the railway station well before time and after a few initial hiccups (try RAC tickets), began a 24 hour long journey.

Got friendly with these utterly adorable elderly men and sang some few dozen retro Hindi songs late into the night. Who'd even guess that I'm a "bad ass metalhead" headed to an Iron Maiden concert!!!

Reaching Bangalore (why does this sound so much better than Bengaluru), I had a first hand experience of what my mates in B'lore couldn't warn me enough about. "Yaha ke autowaale nanga kar dete hai" which literally reads "The local auto rickshaw guys strip you naked". Before one thinks that the B'lore auto drivers have some strange penchant for less clothed passengers, the sentence should simply be understood as these guys fleece you naked!!!! Oh, well!

Touching base at Barnita's place, I saw how absolutely kooky but totally wonderful Faheem and Barnita are. Gobbled my first masala dosa in B'lore after over a decade. Bliss! And while Shalini confirmed that she can't meet up any time before early evening, drastic plan changes were made as I headed to Shreyas' place.

Killing some time at Shreyas', I left for Shalini's. Shreyas told me just the thing to do to avoid being taken for a ride by the autowaalas. Awesome pun! :P "Make them feel like they rule the world," said Shreyas. While Shreyas took care of the initial crowning, I tried to take care of the rest with my broken Kannada. "Oota aaitu?", auto dude asked; "Oota maadbitte", said Biprorshee. (Had food?...Yes, had food!). Auto dude merrily grins, "Saar, you from Baambaya and you talk Kannada? Very goodda!".

While at Shalini's, Mukherjee aunty couldn't stop saying how I was the naughty, cute kid of the neighbourhood and how different I seemed now. Indeed, considering the last time she saw me was when I was 5 and had a massive crush on her daughter. How naughty, how very cute!

A daal-chawal lunch (the way I love it), quite a few laughs with aunty, Shalini and her totally cute cousin Mithai and I headed back to Barnita's with Gunjan who by then had announced his arrival as well.

Plans were made, pub prospects were discussed till eventually we decided that we are headed nowhere and will be killing time at home trying to get drunk. I didn't even finish my first drink and I was woozy in the head already. Gunjan left sometime late in the night and I crashed on the floor to the tunes of the black metal blaring on Fa's computer.

16th morning and I wake up to find it is 8. Run!!! No shower, just change clothes. Call up Shreyas. Call up Gunjan! Get out. After all the chaos, I hugged Barnita bye bye and thanked both of them for a wonderful time. Aah sweetness!

With the inevitable confusion here and there Gunjan, Shreyas, Shreyas' mate and yours truly reached Palace Grounds at around noon.

The venue seemed much better managed and the event better organised than the previous two. Seems DNA did learn the right lessons. Gates opened fashionably late but no one was complaining. People were seen lazying around and once inside, one could see water kiosks (Thank you thank you thank you DNA), food stalls, alcohol stalls and some such.

The turnout was not surprisingly low. The initial madness like 2007 was pleasantly not seen. People continued to loiter around while we guys cemented our place in the front. Yet another front row...wooohooo!!! We took turns to go have lunch, pee, smoke and the works. We were by then joined by Abhirup and his Pune mates.

The opening bands began around 3 and carried on till 7 (including Lauren Harris excluding Parikrama). By late evening, we guys pretty much had it with the growl fest. Almost every band was more or less a death meets new age meets thrash band. What utter boredom when every song seemed same and every vocalist trying too hard. The UK bands were strictly ok. There's only so much death metal I can stand. The last band called "Brandon Ashley and The Silver Bugs" even had cheerleaders with pom poms on stage. I kid you not, this has got to be a first in rock history.

The pick of the lot to me surely was Bangalore's own "Slain", the first band. Riju had a lot of good things to say about this power metal band and I saw why. While bad sound plagued every band, Slain suffered most and it's a shame because their all original setlist seemed an absolute treat. Watch out for this one.

CRI winners Abraxas' music made as much sense to me as their name. Let's leave it at that. Synaps, another B'lore band were ok. While their Rage Against the Machine cover wasn't really the best one I've heard, the KoRn track was well done. Their OCs made for some pleasant hearing while the front man did a fine job managing the crowd with his "Sit down for a minute please" and "What will you do when I say jumpthefuckup?" stunt.

Now Kryptos is a band I really have respected over the years that I've heard them. Not subscribing much to their thrash/death style, I've always loved their stress on OCs. They made the best of the sound they got onstage and sounded fab. Tower of Illusions was very very neat and now I have a good mind of picking up their last album The Ark of Gemini wherever I can find it.

Once again, I shall refrain from commenting on Lauren Harris though it was rather sad to see bottles, cola cups, and even Gutkha packets and pebbles being thrown at her band. But she really is bad!

Parikrama once again had bad sound to deal with and had a very short set of only four songs. Subir later said how they didn't do a soundcheck and that did them in.

Well, all said and done, at sharp 8, Churchill boomed once again and the veteran heroes of New Wave of British Heavy Metal jumped onstage for the third time in India. We guys held on to the barricade tight and thus began our two hour long screaming, head banging and what not.

The onstage sound this time around was much better than Mumbai last year but there was a sense of lethargy one could sense in Iron Maiden Sunday evening. Now this is a total personal observation but the band seemed in a strange hurry to rush through their set. Bangalore missed the usual entertaining Bruce banter. No, Bruce didn't speak much to the crowd and one song quickly followed another.

However, we got our healthy dose of "Scream for me Bangalore/India" and that more or less compensated. "Moonchild" was dropped from the set and was missed. So my personal highlight this time was "Children of the Damned", yet another monster of a track from The Number of the Beast that Maiden have not performed live for a while now.

There was "Phantom of the Opera" and I know many who were waiting for this song very eagerly. Riju earlier called to say, "Phantom bajaayega to call karna". I did. Minutes after I hung up, I received a text saying, "I owe you a beer". :)

The set was more or less what was played in Mumbai. "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" heard live for the second time in a row. I sure am blessed. The set ended with the 3-song encore act that wound up with "Sanctuary", yet another addition and a promise of a new studio album the next year followed by a "brand new tour" to India. I've said earlier how Bruce Dickinson's word is worth its weight in gold and I believe it in entirety. So I can't wait for my fourth appointment with the barricades whenever it happens.

While the band left and the crowd kept begging for more, I was on the verge of collapsing. "Dehydration" said Gunjan as the rest of the guys almost carried me back. While Shreyas brought my baggage parked at his place, Gunjan's mate Umang booked an early morning cab to the airport for me.

I could barely speak. Somehow I bade Gunjan farewell as I dropped dead at Umang's place. Can't believe I won't be seeing this fellow for quite a while now.

The sleep till 3AM did me good and I can't thank Umang enough for all the help. Although still wobbly, I managed a quick cold shower and tried to sleep the long ride to the airport. Paid a king's ransom (if kings were only kidnapped for 800 bucks) to the cabbie and sleepwalked through the check-in, boarding and rest of the journey back home.

It was back to the grind before you could say "DJango". The Interim Budget being read by Pranab Mukherjee and I'm sitting at the rooftop of Four Seasons Hotel with no clue of what I'm doing.

Shezan's mate in Bangalore Chinmayi hung out with Maiden apparently and Bruce even left her the hat he wore onstage. She was supposed to help me meet the band, which didn't happen eventually of course.

Anyway, Chinmayi called up while Somnath Chatterjee adjourned the session for 10 minutes as one MLA fell sick (the moment the Finance Minister began the part on taxes :P). She screamed, "Rishi, where are you? Let's meet up today and hang out somewhere." I sighed as I told her that the hanging out will have to wait. Till the next time, I again begin to collect dope for "Bengaluru tales"....

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All things bright and Biprorshee

Goa's OK!

Finally, in my almost 26 years of existence, I managed to make a trip to what I had held so far as the most overhyped tourist destination in this country. After the trip, I was humbled!
My finances were tight to begin with and this had promised to be an expensive trip. It lived up well to the same. Hence, no souvenir shopping, no binging on alcohol, no trance parties (I couldn't care less) and much to my good friend Manojitda's woes, no sex with strangers (or acquaintances either)!
So there were no souvenirs, or were they? I brought along with me snippets in my mind I shall hold on to for a long time. No epiphany, nothing out of the ordinary but a genuine joy that was very, very personal is what I carried back.
I probably was the most boring tourist in the history of Goa tourism but Arambol was love at first sight and there was absolutely no scope for infedility. So there I swore to stay my entire stay.
Be it the cottages me and my four mates rented, the lake between them, Stanzin, Phunti and gang - our absolutely wonderful hosts, the 3AM walks on the beach or the mind numbingly beautiful fresh water lake I discovered on the second day, it seemed like this was my very own, very personal.
The five of us had our bit of fun in our own way. While the rest decided to hop around beaches, get drunk, go clubbing and some such, I was at my best savouring every inch of the Arambol beach, swimming alone into the sea, spending my evenings by my cottage and the subtly lit lake, singing myself hoarse with Phunti going crazy on the guitar later in the night and of all the lovely food Goa has to offer, gorging on Dal-chawal throughout.
There was something incredible to the extent of being divine as I walked the length of the beach woefully early Monday morning. There was this sense of invinciblity as I sang aloud while a rough sea roared. All modesty aside, I never thought I sounded better.
By Monday evening, there was this bittersweet me. I would be lying if I said that "Fuck! I wish I didn't have to leave". But I knew I was going to miss this place. As I hugged Stanzin, Phunti, Om and the rest, my eyes were moist. Come to think of it, I never knew these guys before and these were just the people who owned and managed a retreat I chose to stay at.
But there was something very humbling about this trip, about the place, about the people I met there. Something I've never felt during any other vacation of mine.
There are things I need to thank everyone and everything there for. Thank you Stanzin, for giving me my first hash joint years after I thought I had given up. Not to mention the free whiskeys and the absolutely delicious banoffee pie. You were right, it's completely worth getting caught stealing the pie from the kitchen as many times as you claim. Thank you Stanzin for letting us into that gorgeous little heaven you've built.
Thank you Phunti for sharing your music with me, for strumming the guitar late into the morning without complaining. Thanks for the gorgeous parting words, "Bipro, keep on singing always". I sure shall!
Thank you Om, Girish and Raju for ensuring every bit of comfort. Not to mention the incredible favour of running down to the market each time I ran out of cigarettes.
Thank you Arambol for being so beautiful and so scaringly alive. I've felt you sing along as the seas roared while I sang to you and the starriest sky I've ever seen. I've felt you smiling as I held my mates while on their drunken stupor. I've felt you urging to walk on that sunny afternoon when I tiringly thought I had nothing else to discover and then I reached the fresh water lake around the hills.
Thank you Goa for giving me three gorgeous days (and an incredible tan).
Back at my work desk Tuesday morning, I find a small piece of paper neatly cut to take the shape of a bracelet; on which hand scribbled are the words, "Enjoy Goa!" :) The trademark handicraft tells me it is Mansi. Why thank you Ms. Kelkar because I sure did!

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All things bright and Biprorshee

Slumdog Blah Blah....BLEH!!!!

Danny Boyle and team, take a bow! Slumdog Millionaire is a fine movie indeed. While the movie releases in India today; being the internet pirate that I am, I checked out a downloaded version weeks back. Fine print, yay!
Now I really liked the movie, I did but things are getting on my nerves now. India, heard of the word "overkill"???
Though I am not surprised but I'd yet want to ask, "Why". Why the madness over the movie? You flip news channels and there are hour long segments over the flick. The movie being nominated for the Academy Awards and newspaper front pages are screaming so. The Globes are over, SM has packed in its kitty a whole load of them and we still can't stop rambling about it. Why?
Hello? SM is NOT even an Indian movie. Sure it is set in India and has a few Indians on the crew but so what? Why are we so hell bent on SM being our moment in the sun? There were other movies like Holy Smoke, The Darjeeling Limited and a few more set in India. When did we go all out to champion those flicks? Maybe they didn't have enough Indians on board. Maybe they didn't showcase our country enough. MAYBE THEY DIDN'T FARE ALL THAT WELL IN INDIA OR SWEEP AWARDS GALORE.
This whole idea of what I completely see as "stealing thunder" disgusts me.
It's just like how we hailed Sunita Williams or Bobby Jindal as Indians when they are actually far from that. I'm sure we understand how having roots in a certain country and pledging alliance to another are two different things. We are the very same who will not tire labelling Sonia Gandhi as an Italian.
Sure celebrate when A R Rahman won the Golden Globe, celebrate if he wins the Oscar, celebrate if good old Anil Kapoor brings home a few recognitions, celebrate if Irrfan Khan is appreciated but why want to go the whole hog? (FYI, Dev Patel is British!!!)
Yet another issue surrounding the movie caught my fancy...our demi God Amitabh Bachchan's perspective on SM. How he thought Danny Boyle portrayed India as a "third-world, dirty, underbelly developing nation". Of course Mr. Bachchan now does claim how he has cleared the air with Boyle and how the media interepreted "incorrectly"! I'm so sorry Mr. Bachchan, we scribes really don't know our job. Thank you for blogging!
I must admit that though initially I did agree to a certain extent but thinking over it, I felt that this is after all a story of a dude from the streets hitting it big and not about Mumbai or India. As a film maker, would I really be showing Juhu in all its grandeur when my protagonist is from Dharavi? I think not!
My good friend, Gautam "The Goatman" Kagalwala has a tongue-in-cheek remark to offer. "He's mistaken that the rest of the city lives the kind of life he lives," Goat says.
The movie has just been premiered here and the news channels are a little short of showing the entire flick if they could.
If only, if only we could live with the fact that we have enough ourselves to take credit for. If only we realise that we just might be taking the charm away off...a "fine movie". Really!

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All things bright and Biprorshee