It's Halloween

It’s that time of the year again.

When apples remind you of bobbing for apples (not that the game has caught on in our country; but you never know, some surprises might just leap out soon), and throwing of an apple, peeled in one strip, over one’s shoulder (a practice favored by many maidens to know the initial of their to-be spouse).

When candies are the most-preferred sweets.

When black and orange are the predominant colors for the day.

When shops offering costumes on sale/rent, see sky-high demands, often jostling with each other to offer you that too-good-to-refuse deal. Buy one vampire mask. Get the Frankenstein monster one FREE. Offer open till stocks last.

When pumpkins are carved (a tedious chore, let me tell you; as yours truly found one day, many years ago, and which I should add, was an utterly unsuccessful cum messy attempt, much to my disappointment, and Mom’s understandable relief). $%^&&*@!

It’s Halloween, folks.

Good friend, working at a company known for its creative ambience, made a call, asking if I would like to “grace” her official party, as a witch / vampire / ghoul / goblin / zombie / bat, no less. We shared some happy chuckles over how both of us needn’t even dress in witchy black robes or top-hats, and would yet be able to totally succeed with the impersonation.

However, good times were not to be, and I soon had to return to the dreary land of work and more work! All thoughts of Halloween banished into the background.

Well, almost…..

To be rekindled this time next year.

Now if only I could wield my trusty magic wand and set so many things right....

Abracadabra!

Dreadful dinner / lunch companions....

Many of my friends tell me anecdotes about dinner companions and luncheon dates. Some of which, I must add, leave you holding your aching sides, to keep from dropping off your chair in utter amusement.

I thought it would be good fun to compile some of these “gems” who could be seated across the table from you, causing you to squirm in your oh-so-comfy settee, while at the same time wishing that either you or them could drop dead that very moment. While my sense of humor might not hit yours bang on, I nevertheless, thought it was worth a try...

Let’s start with the slurpers.

So, the soup arrives. These people sure believe in sound being their strongest allies. The reason – sounds of all kinds – of the slurping, sucking, sloshing, and gulping category, make their way to your acutely delicate aural pair. Causing smoke to drift out from them. And making you grit your teeth, and clench your palms. The Hot and Sour Soup definitely makes you Hot and Dour!!

Then you have the sniffers.

Now these people could probably give all those sniffer-dogs a run for their money. As soon as the sous chef arrives with the hors d'œuvres, and gingerly places them on the gleaming ivory table, your companion decides to inspect each entrée, sniffing deftly, and laying down each of them with a triumphant / orgasmic look / smile after its due course of inhaled inspection. Almost makes you want to gag.

Next in line are the dissectors.

Mathematics sure must have been their favorite subject in high school. Their precision in eating all kinds of food in “parts,” definitely deserves a worthy note of mention here. Given a chance, they would doubtless, even divide your regular peanut-butter-and-jam sandwich into sub-atomic particles, gingerly toy with them with their forks, before pushing them into their mouths.

You also have the “savor”-ers.

These are the ones who enjoy their food so much that you would be through with double rounds of the entire seven-course delectable meal, and they would still be on their bruschettas. And bear pleased-as-Punch looks on their face – as they are the ones who really relish their food. Pooh pooh to the quick eaters!

You also have the “hand”-y ones.

Cutlery was probably invented by a fool; nothing gives these people greater joy than attending even a black-tie affair, folding their shirt-sleeves till their elbows, and digging into the food gracing the table, at breakneck speed. Too bad one only has eight fingers and two thrumbs. Tsk tsk. Spectators be damned!

You also have the “saucy” ones (pardon the pun)…

The food arrives. Without even tasting a spoonful, these people will uncork the ketchup / salsa / hot sauce / mustard / Tabasco / cayenne / wasabi bottle. And squish….a semi-liquid river has just been poured generously. It is a marvel how they make their way through it, chomping bravely, smile firmly in place, though their eyes / cheeks could give away some redness, and some tell-tale sniffing is concealed with excuses about a cold.

Ohhh, how can you forget the breed of loud eaters / chewers with their mouths open?

Probably one of the most obnoxious sorts – these folks believe that your seeing the bolus in their mouths constitutes a pretty sight. So you try your best to continuously stir your coffee, knowing that if you were to look up, you wouldn’t help but notice the ricotta-corn-spinach sandwich being vigorously chewed in the mouth of the strapping joker sitting across you. With a pained look, you try to keep your eyes diverted, but sooner or later, you are bound to look their way, when they are garbling with food in their mouth, and then quickly look the other way again, when you see moving particles inside their mouth. Ugggh!

Another type are the shovelers.

They will order dumplings, fried rice, noodles, chopsuey, tofu, and soy egg, mix it all up, and then shovel it in. Leaving you aching to run back home, and reach out for that aspirin.

One of Joey’s (of F*R*I*E*N*D*S fame) pet peeves is people helping themselves to food from his plate.

Which brings us to the next category – the I-don’t-believe-in-asking category.

So you have those people who will not only take bites from your plate, but given a chance, polish it all off. Now, if they would only seek permission, maybe that frown would exit your face for another time…Getting your food stolen off your table, hurts even more, if you happen to be one of those who swear by the rule of “delayed gratification,” leaving the tastiest piece for the last, only to have it grabbed by one rogue of a dinner companion, right under your pretty nose.

You also have the swishers.

Sample scene – attendant arrives with fresh bottled water / wine / whatever you may. Uncorks bottle. Pours the sparkly / bubbly / water into tall glasses. Your companion takes a long sip, sighs contentedly, and swishes the beverage inside his mouth. Gargle. Glug. Swish. Transporting you to memories of your childhood bi-annual visits to the biggest bane of 'em all - the dentist. There the heartless dentist would poke strange tools into your mouth, peer inside, and make you consume poisonous tasting stuff, and make you swirl it in your mouth. When you would freeze him with a pained / furious look, and he knew you couldn’t take it much longer, he would nod his head, and allow you to spit it out, but not without making your ears burn with a homily on how the youth of the day lacked patience and endurance power, and making your palms itch with an inordinate desire to box his ears. You would leave the clinic, with memories of a sadistic dentist deeply entrenched in your mind (though only till the time you were presented with a yummy choco-chip ice-cream for your “courage”). Thoughts of the dreaded dentist would disappear, life would look rosy, but only till the next 6 months, when it would be time again for another visit. Aaaargh.

But I guess I’m deviating from the topic.

So let’s move on to another group – the tappers.

Menus come. Orders are placed. Menus are removed. Food comes. Empty dishes are taken away. One thing is constant – that steady tap tap tap sound. These people believe that nothing makes a meal tastier and (un)forgettable than some steady soul-stirring music. And what could possibly be better than their own masterpieces. So their fingernails develop a life of their own, and constantly keep up the tap-tap-tap routine, causing you to make
a) umpteen visits to the loo
b) phone calls to all and sundry
c) pleadings to the offending owner of the tapping fingernails

But all in vain. The fingernails have suddenly found their calling. It’s a syndrome. It's called Have fingernails. Will tap. Period!

You also have the Questioners.

Hey waiter, what’s a combo? Is the fondue fresh? Are you sure the wine is from France? Can I get a free side-dish? And so on, and so forth. Soon, his questions drone on and on, causing you to switch your mind off completely, try to sleep with your eyes open, or cringe each time he utters a syllable. Since this guy’s middle name is “persistent,” you will be doing a lot of the above…

Then, there are the cheapsters.

Too cheap to order a drink or a beverage, they are the ones who are most likely to ask for chilled water. Take the lemons from the salad. Ask for some more. Wait for a couple of minutes. Ask for sugar, or better still, discreetly take out sugar cubes from pocket. Look furtively around. And Voila. In 5 minutes, they have their very own lemonade. Neat no?!!

Last, but definitely not the least – you have the scroungers.

“Hey, it’s my / my friend’s birthday. “(Grin. Wink. Wink. Fidget.). “Do you guys give any free stuff?” (Hopeful smile). “Like maybe a cake or dessert. A couple of drinks on the house?” “No?” (Shocked smile). “Gosh, what kind of restaurant / watering hole are you? I’m a patron…” (Head shaking).

Too bad, buddy. Happy birthday. And nope, tiramisu aint coming your way gratis. Go on, pay up.

And let the others eat in peace….

(I am sure I must have missed quite a few breeds of patrons at restaurants. Do fill me in / drop in a line. I’ll appreciate the help) :-)

Black Eyed Peas - Black Blue and You World Tour - Bangalore - October 16.

It’s official.

The Black Eyed Peas (BEP), who gave their India trip a skip eight months back, are going to be performing in Bangalore on October 16. The venue will be the same place which usually hosts such events – Bangalore Palace Grounds. The show will mark the mid-leg of their ‘Black Blue and You’ World Tour 2007, which commenced on September 13, wherein the band will perform in 13 countries, and also bring in the release of their latest album "E N D."

At a time when the band’s leading lady, Stacy “Fergie” “Dutchess” Ferguson is riding high on winning MTV’s Best Female Artist Award, their timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Once again, another band gives the capital their version of a royal ignore. Save the thrash / death metal band, Sepultura, that is slated to perform on October 28, and the hip-hop rapper Akon who performed to a luke-warm reception early this month in Delhi (despite his voluble I-am-charmed-with-India-declarations), most bands have preferred to keep their performances for a more “receptive” audience in Bangalore, Mumbai, and Shillong.

Quite a bleak state for us poor people in Delhi, who would also like to shake their booty to foot-tapping numbers, and who keep getting blue in the face by shouting hoarse for bands to perform here. Sigh!

As for the people in Bangalore, I bet they are all chanting, “Let’s Get It Started,” in full gusto!

@#$%^&*!

The Big B's Birthday...

In a country where cricket and Bollywood are the two presiding religions, it comes as no surprise that its denizens would devote themselves utterly to worshipping their reigning deities. And when it happens to be the legendary Amitabh Bachan’s birthday, as is the case today, it becomes one huge jamboree.

While the most-known face of Indian cinema spent a low-key birthday, things were not as quiet in his place of birth, Allahabad, where fans thronged the banks of the Ganges, to offer prayers and to perform rituals for his wellbeing. and continued success at the Box Office.

TOOMA* has been doing a great job the entire day, making me walk down memory lane, doing damn neat renditions of unforgettable dialogues spouted by tinsel town’s most famous icon, the towring one who boasts of his now signature booming baritone, and who ironically, before he embarked on his stupendously-successful silver-screen journey, was turned down by a radio channel for a news announcer. Bet they must be gnashing their teeth in dismay till today!!

Hearing those dialogues delivered by an adept-at-them TOOMA, transported me to many, many years back, when I would wait impatiently for countdown shows, Sunday cartoons, Street Hawk, Knight Rider, The World This Week, Oshin, and oh yes! – the blockbuster Amitabh-not-to-be-missed-for-words-homework-be-damned flick on Saturday nights, when all my Dad would do was pop his head into the room, and ask my bro and me when we would turn the blimey idiot box off, and call it a day, much to our chagrin and / or visible vexation!

The screen idol continues to rule the roost even today. Though a lot many people poke fun at him, calling him undiscerning on account of the spate of his movies that bombed at the BO, and his face peeping out from every hoarding on the highway, every advertisement on the boob tube from mouth fresheners to Marutis, and every magazine / newspaper across the globe, his popularity continues to soar, crowning him as the undisputed “Baadshah” of all there is to conquer, and making those very same scoffing / disdainful people bite their lower lips, duly humbled and chastened. Time has stood still for this ageless luminary (calling him a star would be an insult), who continues to enjoy the same adulation as 25 years ago, when the entire nation to a standstill upon his near-fatal accident while shooting for a movie, and who flocked in hordes to offer their prayers for his speedy convalescence. Hourly bulletins, a first for national channels, were flicked continuously. Hymns were chanted. Temples saw all-time high visits. His unabated fame and glory gives credence to the fact that stars may come and go. But legends go on forever.

Cheers to the not so young and not so angry silver-bearded man, as he smiles genially, gracefully turns 65 today. May he enjoy unabated endorsements, continued success at the Box Office, and an etched impression in the minds of all.

The last I’m dead sure about.

After all,

Don ko bhulaana mushkil hi nahin, naamumkin hai...

*TOOMA - The Object of My Affection

Movie Review: The Bourne Ultimatum

I’m no fan of action movies, choosing slapstick over this genre. But when best friend insisted that I should make an exception against my rule, I decided to relent. After all, what did I have to lose? If nothing else, it was bound to be an adrenaline-pumping, 120-minuute, tightly-paced flick. So I acquiesced.

And boy! Was I glad that I did go!!

Initially I was pretty skeptical about watching the third part of an action trilogy, without having watched the first two. Five minutes into the movie – and my skepticism had all flown out of the theater window. The movie is self-explanatory, and leaves you wishing you could heap buckets of acclamation on the worthy director.

The Bourne Ultimatum is a mind-blowing flick – one that leaves you with an incredible Oh-My-God-this-was-one-amazing-movie experience, when you walk out after the screening. Right from the beginning, you are hooked – from Jason Bourne’s (Matt Damon) death-defying escape from the Moscow police, right to the very end, which for obvious reasons I would refrain from recounting here - after all Ido fear that you might not move your sedentary rears to watch it.

Bourne, on an episode to unravel the hush-hush CIA black op called Blackbriar, does not have many leads to assist him. Save a London journalist Simon Ross (Paddy Considine), who has stumbled upon the classified operation. Ross makes his way through a stringent camera surveillance system, unerringly steered by an ingenious Bourne, until he (Ross) panics, and is shot by a hired gun.

The movie is shot at a gritty pace, amidst different locales worldwide. Never once does the able direction falter.A steely Pam Landy (Joan Allen), excels in her role as the upright CIA Deputy Director. Noah Vosen, as the smug, wily head of Operation Blackbriar is also laudable.

One of the best scenes in the movie is when Bourne, after leading the CIA officials on a blind goose chase, calls Vosen on his phone, querying about his whereabouts. When Vosen chooses a white lie, saying he is in his office, Bourne expresses disbelief, remarking if that had indeed been the case, the conversation between the two would have been in the flesh, rather than a telephonic one. While Vosen had been on the lookout for Bourne, an obvious red-herring, he (Bourne) had broken into his office, made away with the top secret Blackbriar documents, and deposited them with Landy. A visibly chasetened / beaten / frenzied Vosen is shown next upfront...

Words wouldn’t do justice to this Paul Greengrass movie.

Miss it at your own risk.

Just another game of chess...

Seems like there is more to Russia than Glasnost, Perestroika, a certain leggy blonde tennis player, that drink most often sipped with orange juice – vodka, caviar, space programs, and Faberge eggs. Whoa! Looking back, that was quite a list.

But I’m afraid, I am deviating from the main story.

Three days back, Russian Former World Chess champion, Garry Kasparov, was elected as a Presidential candidate, slated to run for Russian President in March 2008.

Discussion with TOOMA* last night brought up interesting revelations. He likened the game of chess to a long-drawn out political battle, where one opponent goes all out to overwhelm the other. I liked the analogy.

With Kasparov having played chess since the age of 6, this 44-year old sure is one seasoned “player.” Despite not having been in the political arena for long (he joined in 2005), his entry does bring back memories of how, in the 1980s, he was considered to have the “gall” to play opposite the undisputed chess champion, Anatoly Karpov, and more importantly, making him (Karpov) relinquish his much-coveted title. All the while making it seem like a piece of cake.

Now it’s time for us to wait and watch if Kasparov plays a neat round of checkmating Putin, whom he refers to as a “dictator.”

I just hope it doesn’t end in a stalemate.

* TOOMA : The Object of My Affection.