Book Review: Recalcitrance

I recently had the opportunity of reading the historical novel ‘Recalcitrance’ by Mr. Anurag Kumar, who was gracious enough to send me a copy of the book. It is, as the author says, “history given a fictional treatment”. He argues that though he could’ve written a plain history-book, he didn’t do that as he wanted to bring forth the prevailing zeitgeist: something which could only be done from the viewpoints of people who were actually present at that time. I couldn’t agree more.

The novel has the story of a certain Chote Bhaiya, who’s the protagonist and is drawn into the struggle after he’s bitterly humiliated by a drunk-on-power British officer. It’s through his viewpoint mainly that we get to know about the ‘mutiny’ and the heroics of numerous valiant patriots – including, among others, a mysterious ‘white turbaned man’ who’s based upon Raja Jailal Singh who was a trusted general of Begum Hazrat Mehel – and the prevailing sentiments of the time. We learn that the commoners were mostly anti-Company; and that though some elites did help the cause, most of them disconnected themselves from the efforts.

One remarkable thing that comes across, as one reads the novel, is the prevailing Hindu-Muslim brotherhood. It is a well known fact now that the British ‘learned’ from the events of the uprising and then adopted the policy of ‘Divide and Rule, something which paid them rich dividends as soon enough they became the virtual masters of the whole of India. However – friendly as they were, one can’t overlook the fact that the two religions are starkly different; hence – some differences were there: like the Hindus not drinking water from the hands of a Muslim, etc. Still, as the author points out and documents in the form of Tek Chand and Karim Khan, the two religions often made tremendously good friends. The Hindu-Muslim contrast is also explored in the subtle love-story sub-plot involving Chote Bhaiya and Farheen.

The novel also talks about the two Lucknows: the one that was prior to the uprising, and the one that became of it after the British recaptured the city. It discusses the character of Nawab Wajid Ali Shah, and tries to explain his position and ventures into the reasons as to why the Nawab became who he was. It also demonstrates that the ordinary citizens of Lucknow did all they could to help the cause, by supporting it via all means. It depicts their anger on the confiscation (annexation) of ‘Oudh’ by the British on the farcical grounds of ‘mismanagement’. It demonstrates rather well the humongous hypocrisy of the British at various places, like when they always were eliciting ‘Cawnpore’ while brutally massacring the ‘natives’, all the while conveniently forgetting their own atrocious acts which surpassed a thousand ‘Cawnpores’.

One learns about the importance of patriotism on reading the book: it's the debt on you of the motherland which made you, pouring her elements into you and nurturing you the best she could. When she's in trouble, as she was in 1857, one ought to stand up for her. The ensuing struggle is brutal, but is completely worth-it; as the author beautifully captures in the words of Narenderlal, “The mother conceives a baby and thanks God for His blessing. She goes through enormous troubles during those nine months and then there is the horrible pain of childbirth but it brings forth a wonderful creation, an image of God Himself. On being shown the face of the infant the mother forgets all her pain and hugs the little creature to her bosom. Also sometimes the baby is still born but the mother does not say to God: do not give me anymore babies, but eagerly looks forward to another birth. Similarly, our country is going through a painful phase but this will end bringing in a new life. However, this struggle must be continued if any such thing is to happen.”

The book is briskly paced and is a pleasant read indeed. However, I feel that it should’ve had some illustrations as well: pictures of the historical monuments as well as some maps explaining the ‘siege’, etc. Nevertheless, it is one book with its heart at the right place: the author being an emotionally-driven passionate historian who truly feels for the subject and his city as well, being so much obsessed with it that he dropped out of a med school to pursue his interest. All of this, and much more, shows in this book which is definitely a must read if you are even a tiny bit interested in the great uprising of 1857: the first war for India’s Independence.

Movie Review: No Smoking (2007)

NS was a movie which was universally panned by Indian critics: Khalid, Taran, Rajeev, Raja, you name them and they’re on in the lambasting brigade. Some of the anger was justified; it being a highly personal and egoistic movie, which couldn’t be understood by many – well, most – people.

The movie begins with a recurring dream of K, the protagonist played by John Abraham, in which he finds himself somewhere in the middle of Siberia. He gets a call from his wife, Anjali, and disconnects it in want of a cigarette. He goes looking for it; and breaks through the housing he’s in and runs for a pack, with an officer with a Tommy gun in close pursuit. He sees a bathtub, but skips it and reaches for the cigarette; and just as he’s about to have it, he’s shot dead.

The story then cuts to K’s apartment in Bombay, where he’s having a cigarette in his bathtub. We’re given the impression that K is a hardcore addict; and it’s when his wife decides to leave him that he agrees to visit ‘Prayogshala’, an underground rehab centre run by a certain Baba Bengali, who’s a control-freak maniac who adores Hitler. The ‘lab’ claims a 100% success rate; and K’s close friend Abbas, who has himself given up smoking, is a testimony to that claim.

The Baba believes in inducing fear in the mind of the smokers, by using tactics such as kidnapping their relatives, chopping their fingers, and – if nothing else works – separating the ‘greedy’ soul from the body. He believes that the soul corrupts the body in order to satisfy its own petty greed, etc. and the body should be purged of it if the soul refuses to reform itself.

K’s nightmares begin when he signs the contract at the ‘lab’, and we witness his struggle to quench his thirst for a fag – the one thing that is the truest manifestation of his individuality – and in the process falling into the cesspool which the Baba has so wonderfully arranged for him. We witness the treachery of Abbas – a reference to ‘Abbas Tyrewala', who is a writer-director and was Anurag’s lyricist in ‘Paanch’; but he became a sellout later – when he, having lost his 2 fingers with which he holds cigarettes and pens, pushes K into the programme. To a writer, nothing is more important than his pen; and he becomes soulless when that is taken away, feeling nothing even while manipulating his friend. All he wants is to get back his pen holding finger.

This continues throughout the movie, with K’s brother committing suicide, Anjali getting abducted and K becoming a suspect, and many other sequences. And, finally we see K in his Siberia dream again. This time he opts to jump in the tub, and finds himself fully taken over by the Baba thus. He neglected his individuality – denying himself finally by giving in – and his soul paid the price for it.

NS is a movie that challenges you to come and experience it. It does not reveal itself even a bit – with all metaphors remaining unexplained to the end – but expect you to unravel itself; and in that sense it expects a tad too much from the viewer. It mirrors the struggle Anurag had to face in this world to be able to have a say. And its arrogance is just a defense mechanism to protect the pristine protagonist, who lives just with and for himself, from the evil enemy which manifests itself in the form of the society. The movie is not about smoking; rather it’s about the inner turmoil within our souls. The water scenes – in the bathtubs, in the police station, etc. – depict the journey of the soul which is in anguish trying to make a choice: between itself and the society. Here, sadly enough, the enemy wins.

Rating: 8/10

Movie Review: Paanch (2003)

As you’d probably be knowing, ‘Paanch’ was supposed to be the directorial debut of Director Anurag Kashyap; but it got stuck due to issues involving the censor board. The board thought, inter alia, that the movie didn’t provide ‘healthy entertainment’, and refused to grant it a certificate on multiple occasions.

However, the movie was recently leaked on the internet, and that gave a chance to the Anurag aficionados to finally watch it, after 6 years of delay! Meanwhile, Anurag maintains that he’s got nothing to do with the leak, though he was glad that it happened. Anyway, all I know is that I finally got to see a ‘must watch’; and that seals the argument as far as most people are concerned.

It is the story of a rock band comprising of five members: Luke, Murgi, Joy, PornD, and Shuili. Luke, played by Kay Kay, is the leader here: a highly dominating and impulsive character who reminds one of Tyler Durden. The story is a thriller, the movie falling in the noir genre, and it involves a heist and the resulting complications which arise when the band members find themselves in want of money, for various reasons. The five hatch a simple plan to ‘kidnap’ a friend, with his consent, to extract money from his rich-but miser dad. Things go wrong when Luke murders him in a fit of rage, and what follows is a gory tale of murders, betrayals, and the horrific baring of human soul. The censor board objected that the movie didn’t have any ‘positive characters’; and all I can say is that Anurag couldn’t have incorporated one without killing the soul of ‘Paanch’.

The movie starts to surprise you and raise your expectations as soon as the opening credits – which are themed ‘5’, and set amidst a psychedelic view of Bombay – start rolling. You immediately get hooked to the screen, and the grip that the movie forms on you isn’t loosened at any place.

The acting is top notch, be it Luke’s histrionics, Murgi’s solemness, or PornD’s jealousy and fear, just to mention a few. The atmosphere and the setting are real and haunting, and you can almost smell the ambience through the brilliant work of the crew. It’s a fitting companion to the dark mood and the darker thoughts. And the direction, needless to say, is awesome: you’d find it hard to believe that it’s the debut performance for a director; and even while watching it in 2009, a good 9 years after it was made, one can’t help noticing how much better it is when compared to most – almost all – of the movies of this decade.

The dialogues are crisp; and although some may find them to be profane, it’s only because they’re real, something which would reverberate in your mind a lot. There’re gems like Luke’s graffiti which screams, “Franz Kafka, Van Gogh, Michelangelo were unrecognized geniuses in their life. Recognize me!!” The dialogues hit you well and hard, making you laugh and feel awed in equal measures. And, just to mention, the censor board had a problem with the profanity too.

There were, however, some shortcomings. The ending was not perfect; it left you a bit off: it was the way Luke’s character was written towards the end. And Tejaswini Kolhapure was strictly okay throughout – actually wanting at places. Also, this being a movie with a ‘rock band’ as the central character, the music should’ve been better. There were a few good songs, like ‘Tamas’, ‘Khuda hun mai’, and ‘Kya din kya raat’, but the rest was a pretty ordinary affair. Moreover, when you consider the fact that the music director was Vishal Bhardwaj, you’re sure to be a tad disappointed. The lyricist, Abbas Tyrewala, has done a good job though.

It’s a disappointment that the movie didn’t get the release it so well deserved, a fact which has much to do with the hypocrisy of the censor board. Nevertheless, it was, in one sense, a blessing in disguise: it made Anurag angry enough to make ‘Gulaal’, and arrogant enough to make ‘No Smoking’. And, as many would say, although ‘Paanch’ is a very modest attempt as per Anurag’s standards – considering the technical and overall finesse of ‘Dev D’, ‘Gulaal’, 'No Smoking’, and even ‘Black Friday’ – it’s way better than the regular Bollywood crap.

Rating: 7.5/10

Gulaal

Post ‘Dev D’, Anurag Kashyap finally found a producer in Zee for his angriest film: ‘Gulaal’, which he was trying to make for the last seven years prior to its release in March 2009. He conceived this movie, with the help of Raja choudhary who plays Dileep in it, after he was denied a censor certificate for ‘Paanch’ in 2001. The censor board felt that ‘Paanch’ wasn’t about ‘healthy entertainment’; something which is pretty ironic considering that the same board okayed movies like ‘Havas’, etc. Anyway, that’s altogether a different issue.

The movie is set in Rajpur, ostensibly in Rajasthan, where in arrives a young student Dileep to study law. He’s a simple, bespectacled, studious person; and the story is all about how he gets entangled in the undercurrent, the ‘Rajputana movement’, propelled by Duki Bana: Kay Kay at his usual best.

The story is about a weak man and how he’s oblivious of all who’re using him; and how he finally realizes this but not before getting callously and slyly used by a brother-sister duo (Karan-Kiran) who’re doing all in their capacity and beyond to gain social legitimacy. It is about the father who’d not grant his children (the aforementioned duo) their rightful due for the fear of social stigma. It’s about the heir apparent (Ransa) who couldn’t care less about ‘his highness’.

It’s about the complex relationship between two brothers, Prithvi and Duki Bana; while the elder is a foreign educated ‘John Lennon’ fan who’s the only voice of sanity caped in the madly frivolous poetry, the younger is the Rajputana fanatic before whom everybody else (except ‘his highness, of course) bows. It’s about the aspiring actress Madhuri who is Duki’s keep and is convinced about her ‘Tabu’ like looks. It’s she who ultimately does Duki in, by provoking Dileep, when he starts neglecting her and falls for Kiran instead.

There’s the fantastic poetry and music by Piyush Mishra, who doubles up as lyricist-composer and acts as Prithvi Bana, voicing the reinterpretation of ‘Sarfaroshi Ki Tamanna’ or the ‘Aarambh’ ode or the ‘Yeh Duniya’ end-song. The subtleties of the interactions between his character and the ‘Ardh-nareeshvar’ leave you all-stirred-up and haunted.

Among all these is set Gulaal, which is all about angst. The feeling is of the type that was reflected in Sahir Ludhianvi’s ‘Yeh duniya agar mil bhi jaaye to kya hai’ (Guru Dutt’s ‘Pyasa’): the song which, according to Anurag, is the inspiration behind this movie.

The movie works because it stuns you, leaving you aghast as the story unfolds, and you find yourself horrified as well as craving for more; it clicks because it’s something you know is true, but you just brush it aside whenever you happen to stumble upon it in the ‘normal course’. At some point in our lives, most of have been coldly used in one way or the other; but we just feign ignorance and covertly pity ourselves; ‘Gulaal’ works as a metaphor here which we put on and try to deceive, the object being ‘us’ eventually.

All praises for Anurag for providing us with such a medium to look into. The movie is one journey which shows Joe that entire he left behind when he deviated from the hard course.

The technical finesse in the movie is no surprise, given that Anurag has proved himself time and again; but to achieve such look and the detailing in what is obviously a low budget feature is highly laudable. Yes, the editing could’ve been crisper; and the character of Jesse Randhawa shouldn’t have been left hanging in the air; but, in sum, the product is brilliant! Anurag has set the bar pretty high for his own convenience this time. Let’s just hope that he over does himself in the next venture.

On Anurag Kashyap

This year witnessed the phenomenal rise of director Anurag Kashyap, with his two movies – ‘Dev D’ and ‘Gulaal’ – drawing universal accolades.

Anurag first came into limelight in 1998 as a scriptwriter for ‘Satya’, which was also the starting point of RGV’s Bombay-underworld trilogy. That film went on to become a cult classic; and, ironically enough, Anurag was lost in oblivion for some years for following a chimera called ‘Paanch’.

Then came the year 2005, which saw the release of ‘Black Friday’, and suddenly Anurag was the versatile maven yet again. He, however, decided against doing anything similar and went on to adopt Stephen King’s ‘Quitters, Inc’ into a movie. The result was ‘No Smoking’, which was panned by critics and moviegoers alike (though it has a niche following of its own to its credit), and Anurag was branded a spent force.

Then came Dev D in 2009 and everything changed, and how!

Ostensibly a modern age remake of the classic ‘Dev Das’, Dev D is a coming of age movie which redefines every single thing you thought you knew about ‘love’. I thought only Ayn Rand could do that; and whoa, here comes Dev, arrogantly unapologetic, spanking every cliché and taboo, not seeking any pity from the audience … and finally accepting that “we all are sluts”.

The other day I was having this discussion with a friend (Shardul) about the impact of Dev D. He opined that the greatest message in the movie is to ‘move on’, at the right time. For me, it’s about identifying the Dev in us, and treating him as the need is. This person is seeker trying to make sense of the world: holding on to what he can, trying to crawl his way back into a world he can accept and be accepted, but he’s ceremoniously rejected by the circumstance of existence and society at every crossroad. And, being the non-sympathy-seeker that he is, he defies every single ethic and concept imaginable as a result. He sets off on a journey that’s an unending downward spiral, barely aware of what all is happening to and around him; and then, in the end, grabs the second chance that is presented to him in the form of Lenny.

Every single character is so easily identifiable; you may not empathize, but you’re sure to acknowledge. All the lead characters – Dev, Paro, and Lenny – are unapologetically real; Dev is the quintessential example of today’s obsessed lover – confused, passionate, and obfuscated, all rolled in a single drive to ‘get’ Paro; and the two ladies are alive and kicking, so sure of what and how they want.

And then there is the musical score: which, IMO, is the best of them all in 2009. You’d never realize you’re watching a movie with eighteen songs: that’s ‘Dev D, the musical’ for you. The songs, to composer Amit Trivedi’s credit, are mind-fucking-blowing! Even today, I constantly have the songs on my play list.

After Dev D followed Gulaal, and it’d be a gross understatement to say that it was a worthy successor. The performances by Piyush Mishra, both as the composer and as Prithvi Bana, deserve a million bowings. And, to top it, there are the fantabulous performances by Kay Kay Menon and Abhimanyu Singh. The movie simply blows you away! And, here’s an interesting and ironic fact: the movie was ready prior to Dev D, whose success helped found Anurag a buyer in Zee. And now Gulaal, along with Sankat City, Dev D, Love Aaj Kal, and Kaminey, completes the list of my favorite five Hindi movies of 2009.

It’d be interesting to watch Anurag over the course of the next few years. He says, “I like the tag ‘enfant terrible’. As long as you don't call me normal I'm fine with anything”. Here is one filmmaker who dares to be different and doesn’t botch up like RGV. And at 37, he’s very well expected to dish out quite a few masterpieces in times to come.

Some poems

Here’re a few poems I like, arranged in no particular order:

Emily Dickinson - We never know how high we are:

We never know how high we are, till we are asked to rise

And then if we are true to plan, our statures touch the skies

The Heroism we recite, would be a normal thing

Did not ourselves the Cubits warp, for fear to be a King

Langston Hughes - Dream Deferred:

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up, like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore, and then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over, like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags, like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Robert Frost - The Road Not Taken:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost - Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening:

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village, though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Movie Review: Kung Fu Panda (2008)

I first learnt about this movie when I was in Delhi taking coaching at ALS Interactions for (what else) the IAS exam; a girl there used to carry a cross bag which was KFP themed. I thought, therefore, that it had to be some sort of chick-flick; and, boy! I was wrong!

It is an animated martial-arts film, which is appropriate as invariably martial-arts films are cartoon like. The scenery is breathtaking – the movie being set in China, with striking landscapes abound, the plot is as basic as it can get; the protagonist is a ‘big-fat-panda’; and still, you fall in love with it despite your best efforts to resist its charms!

The hero – Po: clumsy, big, and the biggest fan of Kung Fu – is immensely lovable. He dreams to train under Master Shifu and the furious five, even though his father – a goose – wants him to set up a noodle shop. His seemingly impossible dream is miraculously fulfilled when Master Oogway, the inventor of Kung Fu, anoints him as the ‘Dragon warrior’ after an apparent accident. Shifu and the furious five are flabbergasted and hate Po for all this, and want him to quit.

But, as Oogway asserts, “There are no accidents”, and soon it’s revealed that food is the biggest motivator for Po, who – when motivated by it – demonstrates feats of remarkable agility and no little ferocity. He is soon ready to face the villainous Tai Lung, a snow leopard who descends on the fearful village to exact revenge his own rejection as the Dragon Warrior.

The movie always stays on track, not at once deviating from its twin goals of action and comedy. There’s the unmistakable message of believing in yourself and pursuing your goal. The whole movie serves to demonstrate the power of self-belief, which is best expressed by Po as he says, “There is no secret ingredient … It's just you”, amongst all the roly-poly black-and-white fun. Now this may be a tad hard to swallow, especially if you possess a cynical outlook towards everything; but I want to be charmed by the beauty of the movie, at least as of now.

So, in sum, the most charming part of the movie is its awesome animation: beginning with the gorgeously beautiful opening-dream-sequence, a hand-drawn interlude that looks like an animated woodblock print; this is followed up with CGI graphics interspersed with the hand drawn sequences at apt places, all meant to bring out the stunning beauty of China, the sometimes comic and otherwise real-like fights, and the magic-like sequences featuring Oogway.

Rating: 7/10

Movie Review: In the Valley of Elah (2007)

Post 'Crash', I had huge expectations from director Paul Haggis; and he has not disappointed this time. Bolstered by an anchoring performance by Tommy Lee Jones, ‘In the Valley of Elah’ – ostensibly a murder mystery wherein Jones seeks to find out his missing son, reportedly gone AWOL from his base on returning from Iraq – provides a never-seen-before account of the Iraq war: one that is subtle and gruesome in equal measures.

The message of the movie is best captured by 2 scenes involving the US flag. One’s in the beginning, when Hank (Jones) sees the flag flying upside-down in front of a school. He goes on to correct the error, saying, “Do you know what it means when a flag flies upside down? … Its an international distress signal … It means we’re in a whole lot of trouble so come save our asses 'cause we ain’t got a prayer in hell of saving it ourselves.” And then, in the end, he replaces the same flag with another one that his son sent him from Iraq; and tapes the flag-rope to the mast so that the battered flag remains in the same position he’s left it in: upside-down. The movie hints that there’s something deeper, than the obvious damages, that a war does to the soul of the society; and this message is all abound, in the callousness of the soldiers in Iraq, in the attitude of the man in the New Mexican base who deals with Hank, and – finally – in the flat tone of the soldier who confesses to killing his own companion over a ridiculously trivial issue.

The title refers to the Biblical valley where David took on Goliath; and this theme is underlined throughout as Hank takes on the bureaucratic behemoth that the US Army is in trying to find out where his son is, and her companion-in-quest Detective Emily (Charlize Theron) seeks to fight the alluring innuendos she has to face everyday in office: sexual discrimination. She’s ridiculed by her peers who make overt hints to her relationships with her boss; and the fact that she was recently promoted to become a detective make things all the more worse for her.

Jones goes on to portray an array of emotions in the course of the movie: anguish, valor, and – finally – remorse, on having realized what all happened; Theron also effectively portrays the multifaceted dimensions of a single mother and small-town detective whose tough exterior conceals a considerable amount of vulnerable self-doubt.

The movie is almost like a horror film. It’s true that almost no violence takes place on screen, but there’s a sort-of unspeakable monster revealed in the end: the demon that resides in all of us and nourishes when there’s some eerie problem in the air. It’s not defeated easily – the monster – for it has no definite shape; and the killers, sadists, and liars found in the movie are no real villains: that part is played by the monster. The viewer is left in the end facing an open ending, with no reassuring conclusion: and hints to the rottenness present in all of us.

The movie will make you think about yourself, and about a lot of things that we so often stumble upon and then shrug aside. It’s haunting, and that’s precisely the beauty of it.

Rating: 7/10.

Tundey Kebabi 'franchised'

I want this to be seen by many of you guys, especially those who’re from Lucknow. It’s so because of the horrifying experience I had, and I don’t want anyone else to undergo the same: I ordered Biryani from the Tunday’s at Picnic Spot Road, the very first franchise outlet, and I’m pained to say that – even if I try to ameliorate it, still – the outlet sucks; and dishing out ‘franchise’ was a bad idea for the ‘legendary Tunday Kebabi’.

The ‘Biryani’ that I got was heavy on salt, and was hideous; and even some novice can make something better. I mean, come on! I got a freaking ‘tail piece’. I never expected that, of all things I paid a freaking 60 Rupees for that man! This sucks in its full glory. And coupled to the ‘high salt experience’, this was a pure disaster. I’d repeat – and no matter how often I do this, it’ll be the same – ‘it sucked’.

So I’d advice all you guys to stay away from ‘Ms. US eating point, Lucknow’. That’s the name of that sucking place. If you really want the Tundey Kebabi experience, go to Chowk (Old Lucknow), and nowhere else.

Another day in Paradise

Note: I wrote this piece about three months back, and now feel like putting it up here. I was in a negative frame of mind when I wrote this, and the cynical attitude is all-abound.

I’m feeling low, and this had been so for quite some time now, the whole day and even prior to that. I thought some cooking might cheer me up, so went out to grab some chicken breast.

A few minutes later I found myself at Zawar and sons’, looking at the butcher holding the bird by its wings. He slit its throat and left it on a platform, and went back to skin another bird for this gentleman – an anxiously waiting and blabbering whiner who wanted to know the exact weight of the chicken leg he was about to get. Yeah, to shove it up your ass you need to know all the dimensions precise or it may produce undesired adverse effects.

I remembered the last time I was at a butcher’s; I was terrified. This time I was feeling nothing as the bird turned into a lump of healthy-white-meat in front of me. It got objectified, and was turned into something useful, a triumph of man’s intellect.

Anyway, I got my stuff, thanked him, and then all of a sudden decided to have a hair cut. Oh! What an eventful and adventurous life!! I could have been comfortably headed to my home, but here I was now, sitting in front of a man who had a razor against my neck. He started talking and immediately I regretted my decision. The first sentence he spoke was, “I’m from Bombay, served ten years there.” Served what, a prison sentence? I knew I’d be having a great half an hour ahead.

The man spoke of hair care, skin care, politics, Bombay life, and what not. I was thinking about the hair I was giving away. Adjacent to this shop, some time back, a bird also gave away some parts of its body, the parts which I render non-consumable. Can a bird eat my hair?

The chicken is marinating and I’ll cook it in the evening. May be then I’ll feel better.