Saturday, August 27, 2005
Some 23 years ago, writer Sujatha had visited a friend's mom's friend's club to preside over a function. We were eager to know what would happen to Muthukumaran when he was shot by the British soldiers in the story ரத்தம் ஒரே நிறம். I chose not to meet him as I didn't feel like. My friends did and their thrill died down in a few days. May be smart people like Sujatha or Jayakantan are more interesting when you are a friend than a fan. Fans are friends of the characters and not the writers who created them.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Hey - I can imagine this happening in a third world country only in case of extreme starvation. Boarding a suburban train in Mumbai wasn't this violent!
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Friday, August 12, 2005
At this stage in career -
- The mind began slowing down, can't multiply 13 and 17 without a calculator.
- Attention span is reduced to a micro second.
- Eyes look for key words to click on a web page.
Mr. Sampath is a great novel. R.K. Narayan was one the best story tellers of recent times who wasn't recognized enough in India. Literacy is around 50% in India and less than 10% know English and of that 10, 9 won't have the habit of reading books. So, statistics prove that English authors have less chance of recognition as compared to Hindi. For that matter, a great literary person in any Indian language other than Hindi doesn't get the due recognition. I'm digressing.
Coming back to Sampath, it has everything to be made into a good movie. If someone dares to make a movie from this story, that will be ironical. But I have heard of this movie Mr. Sampath with Cho in the lead - but not sure if it is based on the novel. I'm sure they would have made a mess of it as they did with தனிக்குடித்தனம். A novel on paper gives so much freedom to the reader to visualize the situation. If it is made into a movie or a TV series, the director's visualization is what is in the movie. If it doesn't match the majority of the folks who read the novel, the movie is criticized.
The famous Nag brothers of Kannada Cinema did an excellent work when they made RKN's novels and short stories into TV series.
Coming back to Mr. Sampath, the novel has the characters that you can relate to - a silent observer, his practical and assertive wife, a greedy hypocrite old man, a brilliant problem solver and other kinds of people we get to see so often. The story is about the problem solver. The story goes through the ups and downs of the problem solver; doesn't miss out narrating any goof-ups by the problem solver.
Anyone who is over 30 years and lived most part of his life in India would have faced characters like the ones in the novel. A must read for everyone who appreciates good narrations.
Monday, August 08, 2005
I entered the waiting hall for Consular Services in the US Consulate, Chennai at about . I wasn't there for getting a
The waiting hall was rectangular with the entrance on a broader side and a counter opposite to it. There were chairs on the perimeter. The entrance was not in the middle of the room, so there were fewer seats to the left than to the right.
Two guys were sitting on the far side of the room. They were in some deep discussion and hardly noticed me entering the room. I went to the counter and waited for a few minutes before a lady came to the counter. I told her the purpose of my visit and gave the papers and my passport. She took them and asked me to wait.
I took the seat to the left of the entrance, next to a big brass statue of Ganesha. I liked to have one like that in my new home; but my living room is not big enough to accommodate such a big statue and our guests. People gift Ganesha pictures and small statues when they visit you to your new home in this part of the world. I had anyway planned to buy an apartment and invite my folks for the house warming function. So, I decided to settle for a large number of gifts of small Ganesha statues instead of one big statue.
After a few minutes, a couple came in. They were in their early twenties. They went to the counter, met with the lady and went back and sat on the right side of the entrance. Then a middle aged man and a young lady came in. The man looked like he has been in the
The Dockers man began to talk to the girl. I thought his voice was too loud for his otherwise refined looks. He probably wasn't aware that his voice breached the wall of privacy and everyone in the room was audience to his conversation with the girl. I could make out the following in the mostly monologue. The girl is engaged to someone closely related to the Dockers man and she has a got admission in some
Then an old couple came in. They looked tired and seem to be Punjabis settled in the
The man in the Dockers didn't like it. He was probably used to the system of “Only one person beyond the line” as in the Immigration area in US airports.
He said, "Can you please move from here?” The old man looked hurt. He belligerently said, "Why?” He didn’t question the sole rights of the Dockers man, but definitely meant it. The Dockers man replied, "I need my privacy". "Ah! A fresh green card speaking", I thought. Everyone sitting the room exchanged a smile at the mention of the word privacy. The old man said "No, I won't", without giving a chance for the other person to continue the argument. Dockers man was really upset and didn't continue. The old man stood near the counter for a few more minutes; the consulate lady was still busy inside the office. The old man was getting tired. He went and sat near his wife.
The Consulate lady showed up at the counter; the old man jumped and approached the counter. He said something to her and she asked him to wait. The old man returned to his seat. The Dockers man began his loud conversation with the consulate lady. He wanted some information on visa for the girl that I didn't care to remember. I thought the lady had no chance of knowing answers to his questions; instead he should have approached a H1B guy or an immigration lawyer in the
It was the turn of the old man and his wife. They had lost their passports and visas. The man took out old faded copies of the passports from a bag. The lady at the counter accepted them; gave him some paper. The couple returned to their seats and began writing down.
I was called next and got my work done with an irritated looking consulate official. Six years earlier I had got my first H1B stamped after a few days of wait at the gate. When I came out of the consulate, I felt a sense of achievement. This time too, I was so relieved. May be this is not about US or visa; but more like getting some work done with a government, any government. Think of the Dockers man who couldn’t get the sense of achievement even with his green card.
I will watch out for the same feeling after I get my ration card from TUCS.