The curtains opened. The stage had been set up and in came the man everyone has been waiting for. With a histrionic music in the background. Arms enclosed in one another, he stood facing the crowd. And then came a powerful voice from somewhere in the depths of his throat that was both exciting and arresting. Probably one of the most powerful shows in Tamil Nadu, Bigg Boss’s Saturday nights open to huge expectations for actor-turned-politician Kamal Hassan’s brilliant eloquence and politics-topped innuendos, that mostly wouldn’t make sense right there, but probably on your way back home. This is how Aandavar has branded himself: an armed pistol, an inked-up pen.
In reality, the choice actually boils down to two versions of Padmavati: a woman who clung to her chastity and burned herself as an ultimate protest against invading men; and a fierce, beautiful woman who decided to follow her heart to be with the one that risked his life to win her hand in marriage.
In January 2017, the film sets of Padmavati was vandalised a RajPut association called Shri Rajput Karni Sena. In the process one of the painters on set was killed. Midst of it all, Akhilesh Khandelwal, in March 2017, a member of ruling party, BJP, made a shocking Facebook post stating “reward for anyone who attacks the director Sanjay Leela Bhansali with a shoe”. The same group attacked the sets again, but this time, they went a step ahead to target the celebrities involved in the film: Sanjay Leela Bhansali was slapped; Deepika Padukone was assaulted verbally and was driven into having a layer of security to her home after Karni Sena threatened to “–cut her nose off”.
Indian mothers have a habit. They always have had it. When her child falls down and begins crying, she will always blame the floor.
Million babies have born from million mothers. Million babies have fallen a million times. Million cries. Million blames. The floor has stayed the same. Never buckling, never yielding.
I hate to preempt my hatred by a display of little understanding into the musings of the author–but to be truthful, there really aren’t any except the hash-tag wars he may have been a reason behind. I have read the first thirty pages of Midnight @ Call-centre–and I pride myself on decluttering hiked-up cliches–but couldn’t go any past than that, because let’s be truthful: pile of ashes can’t be swept up in a single stroke. That’s what happens when you see a lot of Bollywood movies. Sorry, dear Chetan. So, apart from the almost-dangerous venturing into the dark-tunnels of escape-less eternity of call-centers and undercover sex sellers, I have read one of his blogs criticizing the RSS and VHP, and I thought, hey, Mr Baghat wasn’t so bad after all. Boy, was I wrong!
As a Coimbatore guy/girl, the worst thing you could do is move to another city for a job–and honestly, that is the worst thing you can do especially because of people who don’t understand you or the place you come from. Sure you try to explain things (because, um, manners) in the beginning, but they just don’t get it. You basically feel like Cinderella in New York City, or like a fairytale character in a horror story. Also, don’t even bother taking them to Coimbatore–the effort is just NOT worth it. So, here is a definitive guide you can show to people (STOP. READ. GO) before they yabbity-yabba at you or you set them on fire–whatever works.
Today marks the 94th birthday of Kalaignar Karunanidhi and his diamond jubilee in legislative assembly of Tamil Nadu. Blessed with 48 hours a day, the dude has been kicking some serious ass. No, look at it: over seven historical novels, 100 plus poems and cinema screenplays, TV series, thousands of perspective essays on Sangam literature and on top of that some mother-friggin’ experience of running a party (that incidentally flipped the political scene in South as we know it) for over 45 years, he still walks this planet with us. And yeah, he’s humble.
Alright, I know you’re judging me. Vijay fans have always been branded dumb, unable to process simple cognitive skills, just so the main-stream, upstanding citizens of Tamil Nadu can feel better about themselves as they palaver Nolan-bred theories to unsuspecting bystanders. What they don’t understand is how effortlessly Ilayathalabathy Vijay has graced Kollywood with main-stream progressive ideas that define our future and beyond. He has constantly been a comrade for all of the values India stands for and in a way that people draw inspiration from. You may see gigantic effigies of Vijay being worshipped by thousands alike as some sort of blind, gullible fan-following, but I (and rest of Thalabathyites) see it as a stand-alone proof that fairytales of loyalty, goodness, and heroism still sell and mean to people who are otherwise seen as cynical. And that is where Vijay is a beacon of hope.