I just moved into my new place last night and by the time all things were done it was past 11 p.m. Suddenly I realized I did not have any milk, bread and my bag of potato chips. Yes, this my diet, just underlines the horrors of living alone. (Hint: Women, I am single and almost entirely eligible). All stores are closed obviously. But I realize there is a 24 hr Pathmark nearby. So I hop into my car and drive straight to it. After doing my shopping, I arrive at the checkout and what do I see, all counters have been abandoned. I get a little scare thinking even the doors might be locked and I have to spend the night in the supermarket but then it is open 24 hrs isn't it?.

Then an attendant comes out of nowhere to my rescue and says "Sir, you will have to use the self checkout scanner"
'But, I haven't used one before," I say looking at the short man with distrust.
'It is easy, just follow the instructions'

So I go and as soon as I am within 2 feet of it, a sprightly voice surprises me definitely not one you expect to hear at almost midnight.
'Welcome, to the Pathmark self checkout.' the voice from the machine says. From the sound of it, I think it belongs to a young lady, a beautiful one at that(Hint: the sort of woman I am looking for) ). 'Place item with bar code on scanner' the voice continues
I did what she or rather "it" told me to do and whoa one by one everything was scanned. 'That was quick' I thought. I was half hoping to have a bar code inscribed on me so that even I would be priced which would be pretty cheap going by the rate at which I am going in the marriage market. (Hint: Yes, I am sounding desperate for a wife I know).

Oh yeah so where was I , yes self checkout is pretty neat. I will try that again next time. Oh the wonders of automation. I wish some automated machine would also choose my spouse for me according to set criteria. Do I need a self-checkout then?(Hint: how many hints you need you dumb females?)

27th March 1994, Eden Park Auckland, New Zealand vs India. NZ wins the toss and decide to bat. With some brilliant team bowling effort, New Zealand get bundled out for a paltry 142. In the absence of Navjot Sidhu, captain Azhar decides to send a 20 year old boy to open. I get a shock suddenly, not from seeing the dimunitive batsman but from my elder sister who starts screaming madly
'Its him, its him,' she yells jumping up and down in front of the TV.
'So?' I said. 'He has never opened, wonder what he'll do now'
'Just shut up okay. he is the best.' my sister said who has as much idea about cricket as my mother has about computers. Both just stare emptily at the screen and get excited by any sort of movement on it.
So I did just that, started to watch the match in silence and expected the boy-man to get out anytime to the likes of Danny Morrison and Chris Pringle, probably bounced out or to some swinging delivery since he was not a natural opener. I was always repelled by the fact that why is this young fella being given so much attention, labelled "wonder boy", touted to be a legend even before he has earned his stripes to become a good batsman. Admitedly I had not seen too much cricket myself to be convinced of the little man's ability so I had my doubts.

82 runs and 49 balls later, all those doubts were not only laid to rest but were ground to dust as the legend they called Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar decimated the kiwi bowlers as if they were chickens in a butchery with shots so breathtaking that only a genius could have executed them. And mind you this was before the Jayasuriya days. It was an audacious assault from this rough untested diamond. I was a convert and have followed almost each and every innings of his till date. (My sister did lose interest in the game and fell from grace and started worshipping SRK :))

All that and more came flooding back yesterday when the Little Master played one more knock of calculated and ruthless proportions to register a magnificent 163 at Christchurch almost 15 years to the day he had announced his arrival. If only for stomach cramps, he would have perhaps become the first man to make a double hundred in one dayers.

He was a wonder boy then but is the Master now. Hope he never retires. :)

I was listening to the FM and the presenter had invited Kapil Dev over for his comment on the Lahore attacks. And Kapil paaji was in ever so anti BCCI mode again. But his comment on the Lahore incident took the cake. This is what he had to say

'We have to find some solution to this situation and find the good things in Pakistan and uplift them for all to see'

For all the sympathy I have for Pakistani cricket but this was a joke. As if he was interested in the upliftment of the masses in the first place. Talk about vested interests. Apparently ICL has more viewers in Pak than India and perhaps that reminded Kapil Dev that uplifting bank balances would be a better idea. We'll see Paki cricket later (if and when that happens now)

Its barely been a week since the Mumbai police filed a chargesheet against Kasab and other perpetrators behind the November 26 attacks, the terrorists are at it again. This time they targeted my favorite game. It was past midnight here and I was watching Sehwag going hammer and tongs against the Kiwis, when the news filtered in that the Sri Lankan team had been attacked in Lahore. It was shocking and I did not feel like watching the game anymore. All those thoughts about sportsmen will not be attacked seemed hollow and baseless as the Indian government's claims on providing security to our major cities.

NDTV went as far to report that perhaps this attack was meant to be for the Indian team who were scheduled to tour but fortunately canceled it. This was frightening itself and I am just shuddering at the thought of what if the Indian players were on that bus. Just imagine a bruise to SRT(revered as God by certain people) would have perhaps brought out unequivocal cries of war with our neighbors.

Just wishing a speedy recovery to all Sri Lankan players and officials affected by this cowardly act . I leave you with this excellent article on rediff - http://in.rediff.com/cricket/2009/mar/03prem-panicker-sri-lanka-team-attacked-in-pakistan.htm

As I type this, I read that the IPL is in doubt as well. Damn!!

"Jai ho" Slumdog ki. The chicanery of the most overhyped movie continued at the Oscars night last Sunday. Eight out ten awards for this average and offensive movie speaks as much about the judging sense of the Academy voters as the people who call this movie a masterpiece.

I will not go into the story much as enough has been said and written about it. The reasons I say this movie is just OK are, firstly Dev Patel's and Frieda Pinto's rendition of their roles is pathetic. Patel has the same stony expression stuck on his face for the entire length and Frieda is hardly there. I don't know for what are they eating so much footage. The stars of this movie are the kids who hardly have a mention in the promotion. Unexplained things like Jamal's entry into the show, his knowledge of the name of the gun, the supposed error in the original poet of the song Darshan do Ghanshyam, all linger like the flies whizzing around those slum kids. No answers provided.

Apart from the indigestible fact that those kids grow up and speak accented English(we'll excuse that for cinematic liberty), there is hardly a character you can connect to or you feel sorry for despite all those terrible things happening to them. Anil Kapoor is so snobbish, one would hardly imagine Amitabh Bachhan making fun of contestants in such a sarcastic manner. His character is a real thorn and in poor taste.

As an indian, I was pleased with Rahman and Pokutty getting their respective awards despite the fact Rahman has given better music in some other films. The music in this movie is average and uninspiring to say the least.

The main problem in the film is the lack of emotional attachment one feels with the film... i mean when Salim shoots Maman, there is no impact(for that one must see Satya and Vaastav to know how hard hitting a killing really is) or when he suddenly changes his heart or when he dies in the bath-tub filled with currency, we don't feel anything nor do are we given any explanation ... when Jamaal finally gets Latika, we don't feel happy about that fact... . Yes when the film ended I felt something........relief. (I had procrastinated my hunger so that I would not miss any magical moment, people had raved about)

It is a fantasy film and I disregard the coincidences. On top of that the film is stylishly shot and edited. Technically the movie is top notch.

In conclusion, this movie is primarily made to feed western audiences with old world images of India. There is much more to this country than the slums shown in the movie. The feeling of hope was conveniently omitted(a few panned shots of mumbai's skyscrapers doesn't make the cut) or not represented as in the original story from which it has been adapted. As an IMDB reviewer had pointed out, would this movie have garnered many awards, if an Indian had made a movie that depicted drug addicts, sex workers, insanitary living conditions, teenage pregnancies, immoral society etc.. of the United States?

I too was guilty of going with the flow and singing praises of this movie although i had felt disjointed from the very first viewing . But after watching this movie a second time I have to say Slumdog Millionaire is just about an okayish movie, not worth award material. Take a bow Danny Boyle for fooling so many people and shame on you Indians who are feeling proud for a "British" movie which although shot in India is as Indian as Pervez Musharraf.

The Rockstars have arrived and it is time to get serious. T20 World champions India square off against the Kiwis at Christchurch who have a few explosive players of their own. It is going to be one roller coaster ride. The first Twenty20 game begins in less than 4 hours. Damn it is going to be past 1 am here but cricket takes precedence as always. :)

With Junior B, Sonam Kapoor, Waheeda Rehman, Rishi Kapoor, Om Puri and a handful of very competent actors lead by Rakeysh Mehra, the man who directed the heart warming Rang De Basanti, you'd expect another soulful film this time. There is every reason to spend those ten dollars which seem like 100 in this economy to catch this long awaited movie. But sadly, we are let down by a story which is just a set of isolated sketches from the director's personal life without any kind of coherence between the myriad plot lines.

Roshan(Abhishek) is an NRI from America who brings his ailing grandmother to India since she wants to spend her last moments in the country of her birth. So they land up in Delhi 6 or better known as Chandni Chowk. Here he encounters new people, friends and neigbours and becomes a part and not to mention interference in their lives. He observes and learns their lifestyle by capturing all experiences through his camera phone and providing an accompanying and engrossing narration along with it. The characters include a former lover of Roshan's mother, warring brothers, their gossiping wives, a dim witted temple helper, a low caste sweeper, a shrewd money lender and an amiable jalebi wala. There is also the sweet and beautiful Sonam Kapoor who like the dove wants to spread her wings and fly in order to become an Indian idol.

The incidents vary from the mundane to the purely hilarious like the cow in labor pains blocking the traffic because people have gathered around to see it giving birth. Interesting characters and occurences they are but only in fits and starts because therein lies the problem. The director has tried to pack a lot of things in the 2 hours 18 minutes of runtime. It is as if the director is not really sure whether to shoot this movie as a ensemble or connect the story lines. As a result, the story meanders ina desultory manner and each one of the characters remains half baked as my neighbours' choclate chip cookie(sorry Maria aunty, I do love your pizzas though :)) . None of the plot lines have been taken to their apt conclusion.

The second half of the movie hams and gets on the nerves because of its over preaching on communal tensions and caste discrimination. And all this is juxtaposed with the monkey man theories which stretches the climax unbearably to shoddy proportions. The message is sincere but doesn't really hit you hard and gets muddled somewhere in the confetti of characters.

Coming to technical aspects, the bylanes of Delhi have been captured magnificently by Binod Pradhan's lenses. Musically Masakali, Arziyaan and Genda Phool are amazing compositions by Rahman. Unfortunately their impact is diluted by their irregular placement. Songs just start of on their own, at one point 3 songs are thrown on to us back to back. Acting honors due to incomplete outlines go to none. AbhishekBachan who is as much a victim of a bad role as his own poor acting, makes no impact whatsoever. Waheeda Rehman,Om Puri, Pawan Malhotra, Supriya Pathak, Prem Chopra and Deepak Dobriyal just hop in and out playing their roles adequately. Rishi Kapoor and Atul Kulkarni are wasted. Vijay Raaz, Divya Dutta and Sonam Kapoor are the only ones that stick.

Overall, Delhi 6 which starts off at a canter hits a speed breaker so badly that for ninety percent of the movie, it is similar to the traffic halted by the pregnant cow. Cinematography, music and a few hilarious desi garma garam vignettes apart this movie is not recommended. We expected better from the Rang De Basanti guy. And what was that scene from heaven anyway??