write2kill RSS feed write2kill Twitter feed write2kill on Facebook
write2kill.in
 
writekill.in Newsletter
Enter your email address:
writekill Twitter feed
 

A writer, a filmmaker, a people's man

• Date published: March 13, 2010
• Other Writings: Cine qua non   
Dr Kotnis ki Amar Kahani
Sometime back I chanced upon a moth-eaten book at a relative’s place. The author’s name on the spine had caught my eye and I was sure I had struck gold as I gingerly pulled the paperback out from under a pile of books that were meant, quite possibly, to be disposed of. The writer was, to me, one of the greatest names in Indian cinema. His repertoire can be summed up in one word – life. It embodied just one element – people.
Continue reading A writer, a filmmaker, a people's man

The Northeast and its Bandhs

• Date published: August 7, 2009
• Other Writings: Knots by Northeast   
The Northeast and its Bandhs
We have seen two, virtually spontaneous, bandhs in the Northeast in the days just gone by. One was a relatively-short 12-hour Assam bandh called in protest against the letting off of the accused in the botched-up Parag Das murder case. The other was a much more gruelling 48-hour bandh called in Manipur over the cold-blooded, fake encounter of a former militant. Bandhs have been so rampant in the Northeast in the last 20 or so years that people have become inured to them. And bandhs, more often than not, are a success without the advocates of the bandhs having to drum up much support for them.
Continue reading The Northeast and its Bandhs

The Sign of Four

• Date published: July 27, 2009
• Other Writings: Satires   
• Originally published in Jaalmag.com • April 15, 2009
The Sign of Four
Some people can really be naïve. And some are still more naïve to understand the naivete that they inexorably exude. Our stuttering parrot of a Bollywood superkhan, Shahrukh Khan, is of course in such a league of his own. Even the egomaniacal Amir Khan cannot stoop to such low levels. And pardon my spellings for the names. These days it is easier to keep track of IPL captaincy changes than to monitor the ways these self-effacing stars keep changing their names to suit their astrological predilections. Yeah, before we digress too much off-pitch, let's get back to the nets. Yes, yes, yes, we were on Rukruk Khan. Or, whatever Khan he happens to be at the time of going to the Press. Or, whatever. Yeah, Jaalmag did happen to catch up with Shah Rukh Khan on the sidelines of the Indian Premier League 2009. No, we won't tell you "where" exactly. We can only tell you that this wasn't anywhere near Kolkata.
Continue reading The Sign of Four

Every boy for himself

• Date published: October 28, 2008
• Other Writings: Short Stories   
The boy grimaced as the boorish bus screeched to another halt. Two unkempt ruffians leaped out from the two door-less gateways and started begging for passengers. For the boy, nothing else registered. He was trapped in a world years severed from the present. Could not have been too many years, for he now was barely into his teens. He was not dreaming. He was disturbed. If it showed on his face, he was not conscious of it. No co-passenger gave a damn about it either, if it did, of course. He was disturbed. Upset. He had been so since he had rushed to the breakfast table not so long ago. His father, a grim-faced arguably unfeeling man, had as usual beaten him to the first meal of the day and was absorbed in a newspaper. Other editions lay beside his plate, bowl and glass. No matter how late he returned or worked through the night, the father would always join his son for breakfast. It was not a mundane ritual; it was a solemn promise that the stoic man had never failed to keep.
Continue reading Every boy for himself

Film review: The Bank Job

• Date published: September 8, 2008
• Other Writings: Cine qua non   
The Bank Job
With a title as seemingly trite as The Bank Job and a cast spearheaded by B-films action hero Jason Statham, one might have expected this to be a routine bank caper involving a Transporter pulling off something of an Italian Job. But it isn’t – it is a film that goes far beyond your simplistic expectations. You would have seen scores, even hundreds, of bank heist films, but this one seems real. It does, because it is a fictionalised account of a real event. But there have been others too of the type, you might argue. The answer to that would be yes, but this one has a taut script made even more gripping with ruthlessly efficient editing. Worth a watch.
Continue reading Film review: The Bank Job

Hits, runs, misses

• Date published: September 6, 2008
• Other Writings: Delhi Dose   
Nanda, the convict
If you were to look at the world from the point of view of how people reacted to the conviction of Sanjeev Nanda in the BMW hit-and-run case, you will find there are just two kinds of people. Those who cannot contain their glee at the contention that the law indeed has a long arm, and those who are shedding copious tears over the poor young fella having to pay for being rich and famous. Yes, the law has taken its own course. Nanda, few would disagree, was guilty as charged, and would certainly have to spend some of his youth behind bars. But the conviction is nothing to exult about. Someone was found guilty by a court of law and has been punished accordingly. That’s it. It’s time to move on. A man guilty of recklessness under the influence of alcohol deserves no media mileage. There are scores of others who need to be nailed as well.
Continue reading Hits, runs, misses

The call of the wild

• Date published: September 5, 2008
• Other Writings: Delhi Dose   
BPO cab
They are notorious for raping, and even gangraping, their female passengers. They are a nuisance on roads and are as infamous for accidents as Delhi’s Blueline buses are. They frequently get into fights with other people on the roads, and more often than not bash them up black and blue. This they do, and have been doing so, with impunity. They are the illegitimate children of the spoilt-rotten BPO industry – the cab drivers. Five people, including a 3-year-old girl, were injured on Tuesday night when a speeding call centre cab rammed into them while they were relaxing on a raised platform outside their residence in south-west Delhi. A call centre employee was killed in an accident in early August caused by a rash and negligent driver.
Continue reading The call of the wild

A race to its own finish

• Date published: September 4, 2008
• Other Writings: Delhi Dose   
Urban Pind
This swanky joint in plush South Delhi keeps setting standards that only it can alone emulate. After all, it is rather difficult to maintain yourself as a lowlife. In June, the Urban Pind joint denied entry to a young female photographer from Nagaland. The decision to do that was purely on racist grounds. When the incident degenerated into a news item, the joint's co-owner Kashif Farooq mumbled some feeble and incoherent excuses, and asserted that there would be no question of apologising. Some arrogant racism that. As public opinion became mobilised, including a Boycott Urban Pind group on Facebook, and a case was filed over the incident, the owners probably thought its image was taking a beating somewhere. Late last month came an apology from Urban Pind.
Continue reading A race to its own finish

Love in the days of hatred

• Date published: August 27, 2008
• Other Writings: Short Stories   
It was one of those ominous evenings when he had that frenzied impulse to go out for a walk — a stroll around the complex that they lived in. He would pace till his weary legs would want to take him back home. The home he would dread to set foot in at such nightfalls. For she would be there, all charged up, containing herself to go hammer and tongs at him. She never joined him for these planned-out-of-the-blue saunters. She favoured the quiet of the home to the incessant bombardings of inane pleasantries that neighbours would subject them to during these jaunts. It would never be a quiet time together. These evening walks had forever been a bone of bitter contention between them since they had married. Not that long ago either, he thought. Knowing what fate awaited him, Neelanjan Sengupta cautiously inserted the key into the hole, turned it ever so furtively, and pushed open the door. And there she was. Sharmistha at her cantankerous worst. At her bellicose best.
Continue reading Love in the days of hatred

The parting shot

• Date published: September 19, 2006
• Other Writings: Short Stories   
• Originally published in The Telegraph
"I'm quitting politics." Such a commonplace utterance would not have otherwise evoked any response from me. But I gave a start — the cup of coffee almost slipping out of my hand. "What on earth?" Words failed me, for the statement came from no one else but my political mentor – Ruhi. Ruhi was my best friend and five years my senior. We had met at a seminar on the validity of Marxism today. I represented my college as an apolitical student. She was a political activist. "I said what I said." Confidence. What had impressed me most about Ruhi was her belief in her self and thought. The authority, command with which she spoke that evening had grown forth only from self-confidence. And that too about an ideology which, at that point, was on the verge of being buried in Marx's birthplace. "But why?" "Forget the why. Even you are quitting."
Continue reading The parting shot