When I was a child, I used to ask for stories to eat. Not just any stories, but exciting, never before heard stories every single time. And this responsibility fell squarely on my father and my chithi’s shoulders. So three times a day, seven days a week, they were in the unenviable position of making up stories. These stories needed to be just long enough to see through the food on the plate. If it was short, I would stop eating and demand a new story. And if the story was too long, I would demand that they continue the story even though the food was done.

I still remember the blood donation story my father made up. Some one was in an accident and they needed blood. Since the victim had a rare blood group, they had to screen people one by one by one by one till they found a match. As I finished all the  food on my plate the right donor would be found and all would be right!

The next random story I remember was  my chithi’s story about the Kamakshi temple in our street corner and the suspicious looking man who came to the temple every day just around dusk, stood there with his eyes darting, nervous, twitchy and anxious. After a few minutes he would walk away melting in to the darkness. He repeated this routine for many days, where the number of days would be exactly the same number of spoons of food on my plate. Just as I spooned in the very last morsel of food, the man would decide to do what he was dilly dallying about for so many days, namely dropping a one rupee coin in to the hundiyal and walk away.

So many parallels between the made up stories I heard as a child and 2.0.  Lack of substance. Monotonous repetition. No logic whatsoever. When you think back you realise that the teller has conned you. But you are no longer five years old and you can see the con through the 3-D glasses as you are watching the movie.

2.0 starts off with the title credits and extreme close up of something… no one knows what it is but it gives you an impression of sitting in a virtual reality Disney ride and leaves you mildly nauseous to the preamble of cellphones disappearing. And the case of the disappearing cell phones is shown O.N.E  B.Y  O.N.E. India is a populous country. Of the 130 crore people in India about 65 crore people use cellphones. So much like the nursery rhyme “1 kodam thanni oothi 1 poo poothudham, 2 kudam thanni oothi 2 poo poothudhaam….” the disappearing cellphone drama goes on and on for a painfully long time. After 30 minutes and what might very well be the 500th cellphone, I am not sure, I slept off, as you are about to scream, “Enough! We get that ALL cellphones are disappearing. We really don’t care why, but we GET IT. MOVE ON!”, the story moves on to deaths.

Not just any deaths, but death by devices. Murder by mobiles.  Homicide by the handset.

Now, Shankar has in the past has been particularly (un)imaginative about murders scenes in his movies, the degree of sins committed by the victim being directly proportional to the randomness of mythological association. Like a split personality Vikram opening an umbrella to create a buffalo stampede in Anniyan. (This has been rightfully made fun of in Tamilpadam1.) Thankfully no Garudapuranam references or Chithraguptan chithravadhais in 2.0. Some netas die and you kind of guess that they are crooked and hence they die, but you are not the least bit interested in the 5Ws that hooks a listener to a story. Instead the predominant Ws in your mind are WTH, Will I get my money back?, Worry that the director might play “1 kudam thanni oothi” with us and show people dying one by one and it might go on for a V.E.R.Y  L.O.N.G  T.I.M.E!

There were many things I found unacceptable in 2.0.

It is one thing to be inspired by Salim Ali, the bird-man of India, but this character called Pakshirajaan based on Salim Ali is blasphemy. While Salim Ali is a Padma Bhushan and Padma Vibushan recipient and one of the greatest ornithologists, Pakshiraajan is a defeated old man who later turns in to a revengeful….. ghost(??!!). As you study the character of Pakshiraajan you end up in a Nayagan connundrum wondering, ‘Yivar nallavaraa, ketavara? Yivar nalladhu seiyyarara ketadhu seiyaraara?* Do I do what he does or only listen to what he says?’ When one writes a character based on a pioneer and his life’s work, it is basic decency to show respect. What is been done in the movie is all crass, no class half baked version of what Salim Ali represented.

One must learn from movies like Pari Yerum Perumal to see how beautifully the story has been told, class issues discussed and how it ends with a glimmer of hope. But it is typical of Shankar, to speed read a Wikipedia page and immediately commercialise it without worrying about gaining any deep understanding or developing an inkling of conviction. In the past he has made movies about irregularities that exist in the education system, corruption, need for transparency in government etc without having really stood for anything. The issues have always been handled as something that he can make money out off, not something that addresses the problem, never has he given hope.  2.0 falls along the same lines. A gargantuan 600 crore production that took 6 years in post-production that used up every bit of help technology can offer to preach to the public how as a society we are over using technology to kill the environment. Irony much?! This is as confusing as the the old people who over use Whatsapp, mobile phones and TV serials comment how the younger generation(which made all this technology these people cushily use possible) is going to the dogs because of over work, misplaced priorities and technology addiction! And without missing a beat forward posts that says that cellphone technology, nuclear bombs, rockets and airplanes existed in the time of Ramayana and Mahabharatha. And not even for a minute one can buy weak arguments about how this movie translates in to employment and development for people in an industry.

It is a bit sad to see Rajinikanth being time and again trapped in the Superstardom and getting choked by it. No matter whether he works with Ranjith or Karthik Subbaraj, this is a man who will never be allowed to do the roles that his heart truly desires. In 2.0 he is used strictly as a brand without any of his usual flair or punch dialogues. While the black-sheep and the bleating were entertaining in Endhiran, the bird impression he does in this is pathetic. His words are slurring a bit as he delivers his dialogues. Even Baba and Kuselan which were all time flops of Rajini, there was meat to his character. But in this movie Shankar has misappropriated every one’s clout and the only thing that comes through and slaps you in your face is how much money has been spent and how Shankar has pulled it off.

Last but not the least the director did not make a stupid movie, but he has made a movie thinking WE are stupid and would take anything sitting down with our 3-D glasses on! Sparrow giving CPR to a still born infant? Ghosts entering cellphones? The rouge Robot comes back to life and the first thing he does is to pull down Amy Jackson’s zipper? Exorcism of cellphones? Such silly dialogues? (I will not even go in to the sending positive signals in to space to attract good aliens and positive EMR and negative EMR cancelling out!)

Hopefully there is no 3.0!

PS:

*The famous Nayagan movie dialogue where a small child asks Kamal if he is a good man or a bad man.

Parents know by now that teenage is not a number, but certain characteristics your children start exhibiting.It does not matter if they are 13, 3, 8, 38(ahem!) if you see more than one of the below then you have a teenager in the house.

-If your child sticks to you when sad, but does not make eye contact with you when in the company of her peers,

-Allows to hug her only when she is upset,

-Gets mad at you at the drop of a hat for things you said/did not say/implied/thought in your mind but did not dare express verbally,

-Wants attention, but does not ask for it, but is irritated when she does not get it,

-There is no more walking or talking at home. There is only stomping and trudging which may or may not be coupled with door banging and frustrated grunts.

-There is no more shyness or giggling when you point a camera at them, but you sense a silent warning to the person holding the camera,

-Many questions are answered with a careless up and down of the shoulders,

-Plenty of eye rolling.

I am not naming any names, but some one at home, other than me, is in this phase now. So while dropping the children at the bus stop, I put on my game face,  stood outside the child’s window, promptly jumped up and down, waving maniacally and calling her name out loudly. When she comes home today, I might show her the climax of Moondram Pirai, where Kamal is trying to get Sridevi’s attention, just so she knows what may or may not follow.

It was one of our talk sessions in progress. It all started with Child#1 wanting to know why, when the whole world and its neighbor seems to have taken their off springs to Bahubali, I am being such a conservative mother and am refusing to go with the flow. I launched my standard answer  missiles touching upon many things that I believe in like age appropriateness, violent visuals affecting growing minds, over inflated romance creating unrealistic expectations etc.

Child#2 piped up and asked me, ‘Was Bahubali violent?’ for which I replied in the affirmative. Her next question was if the movie was ‘vicious’. I was mildly irritated at this point as my sermon was still in progress and the child was interrupting me. So I did my standard discouraging technique of answering a question with a question, and countered her with, ‘What did I just tell you?’. Her reply was, ‘You said the movie was violent. I want to know if it was vicious.’ Still eager to get on with my speech I answered, ‘Well what is the difference?’ and was about to go on.

At this point she stopped me and said, ‘There is a difference amma. If violent is here(pointing to one feet from the ground), viciousness is here(pointing to three feet from the ground). If you still don’t understand amma, violence is like a multiple of 3 and viciousness is like a multiple of 9. Just because something is a multiple of 3 it does not mean it is a multiple of 9. But if it is a multiple of 9, it is definitely a multiple of 3. I can swing my hands violently, it is not vicious. But if I act out viciously against some one, then I am violent towards that person. Got it?’

And, I was out sermon-ed, just like that! May be they are ready for Bahubali. May be I am the one who is not ready!

Resolution right after moving homes: W.I.L.L N.E.V.E.R B.U.Y B.O.O.K.S.
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After 5 min: Ok, Will not buy books for another 5 years. No, no, 2 years. Ok, for the rest of the year. This is FINAL.

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After buying Devapriya Roy and Saurav Jha’s  Heat And Dust Project kindle book: E-books do not count. I can still move homes and not bother with the packing, unpacking and organization. The spirit of the resolution still stands.
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After buying Anjali Raghbeer’s Art Tales From India series: Sigh! New resolutions to not make resolutions about not buying books.

And the culprits are:

And that is where I must have left the mirror. On the wall.

So this is the background.

The children fight as all siblings usually do. Nothing new there, but I am growing increasingly impatient. I sit pondering why can’t one let go and let the fight die a natural death. As I often do, I decided to take matters in my own hands, find a solution instead of silently bearing it, being the master of own destiny, tackle problems as solutions waiting to happen and all that useless jazz.

And I introduced this wonderful concept I learnt in my childhood, namely the mirror. When some one says something nasty to you, you just say mirror and the nasty stuff gets reflected back to them. ‘Stupid’ – ‘mirror’ – the person who said stupid sees his/her reflection and is stumped – you walk away with a smug expression. Simple stuff.

The children were thoroughly kicked with the concept! (Gasp! Really amma?)

They drank from the fountain of knowledge. (Do you have to hold an actual mirror? Should I hold my hand, palm facing out or just say mirror? Can I do both? Can I hold both palms and say mirror? What angle should I hold my hand? )

They checked testimonials. (Did you do it when you were young? Did it work for you? Whom did you use it on?)

Then they executed it.

‘Stupid’.

‘Mirror’.

‘Youuu caaan’t (read it sing-song), because I was already holding mirror when I said stupid. So my stupid goes to you, reflects on your mirror, then bounces on my mirror and goes back to you.’

‘How? How? How can that even happen? It will again bounce on my mirror right?!’

‘But I was holding mirror even before I said stupid. You said mirror only after you heard stupid. By that time my stupid already reached you. Haaaa haaaa (insert sing-song again for complete experience)’

‘Fine, my mirror is bigger than your mirror, so even if it came out late, it completely reflects. Since your mirror is small, the stupid goes around your small mirror and reaches you.’

‘You can’t even see my mirror, how will you know it is small? My mirror is bigger than your mirror.’

‘No mine is the biggest on earth.’

‘No, mine is bigger. I am holding god’s mirror.’

‘Too bad I am holding god’s super mirror, which is the bigger than god’s usual mirror.’

In fact they are walking around the house with one palm, if not both palms, on forehead like a head light, because that is their mirror and they are ready to reflect any insult that may or may not be showered on them.

I am again pondering what I can do about this. Or rather what I must NOT do about this! The biggest joke is how all this was some how mirrored right in to my face.

Was the topic Chula was asked to write an essay on by her teacher.

So the child writes…. ‘I love my family even if I get bad thoughts about them and also because they love me and we help each other.’

When I asked her what bad thoughts she gets about her family, she replied that she can’t explain, sometimes she just feels bad.

She also wrote, ‘My father’s name is _____. He works at _____. I like it when he plays badminton with me. I also like it when he plays monopoly with me. My mother’s name is _____. She works for _______.’

That is it!

No mentions of what she likes doing with me.

My feathers were ruffled and I asked her to explain this serious over sight and she patiently said, ‘Ammmaa, you do a ton of great things with me. If I list all the fun things, this will not be a short essay and I don’t know what to pick because they are all great.’

The child can save her behind through diplomacy.

She initially mentioned that she can’t think of one single good thing to write about her sister. Eventually decided that she will write how naughty her sister is.

Meija was upset with this character defamation and said that when she comes to second grade and when she is asked to write about her family, she will write verrry bad things about Chula and will supplement it with an ugly drawing of her. That did the trick.

The child can save her behind through black mail.

I have raised two good citizens. My job is done.

Or at least trying to…

I am in my parent’s place in Chennai. The only way I have a signal on my cell phone is to stand at the right hand corner of the hall window and hold my phone towards the sky. Chula observed it and is asking me if my phone is ‘solar’ and if it is powered by the Sun.

As usual it is raining in Chennai. I always manage to drag the rain along with me when I visit Chennai. With the rain comes a overflowing laundry basket and wet clothes. I tied a clothes line inside the house, hung some essentials and switched on the fan. Meija was watching me do this. When it was time for scheduled power cut, the fan stopped and she asked me if she can implement her brain wave to dry the clothes even during power cut. I was curious what she was going to do and ended up ROFL when the child came back with a palm leaf hand fan. I thought it was cute. She thinks I was making fun of her. We have agreed to disagree.

I took a major risk this time, by using wash room without a functional latch, with only Chula standing guard outside the door. MONUMENTAL risk people, so it needs to be recorded here.

Sibling rivalry at its peak: Meija is imitating what ever I do. If I get up she gets up. If I put my hand on my hip, she copies. After observing this for a min, Chula says, ‘Amma, slap yourself R.E.A.L.L.Y hard. Quick amma.’

Getting in to my good books: We are getting ready to go to the beach and I was asking them to change out of their fancy clothes in to something that will be appropriate for beach.
Chula: Meija, I am going to listen to amma. I am not like you. I will wear regular play clothes because I don’t want to get my fancy ones dirty.
Meija: I LISTEN. I know our clothes will get dirty. In fact I was planning on wearing something from the laundry basket, something that is already dirty and needs to be washed anyways. Is it ok amma? Am I right?

Chula: <Thinks a bit how to top this> Amma I am going to wear some ripped clothes. What do you think about this amma?

I was seriously thinking about which wall I must bang my head against.

Ok, we are now at a stage we are not repulsed by Hindi learning. By ‘we’ I mean the children. I haven’t warmed up to the idea since I get by pretty decently with my ‘Aaap, kaha hein?! Mein ghar mein hein. Aaap aathe aur nahin athe?! Kal pucca-ok?’

Both can read Hindi(Aksharit helped big time). Art, they read your book in Hindi all by themselves. Proud moment for me and needs to be recorded here.

Chula still refuses to speak. So her Hindi teacher has now mandated that Chula speak one new sentence to her every time she sees her.

Many maps of the school were drawn. Every hide-able pillar was marked. Every alternative route was plotted. Numerous strategies on how to avoid A teacher were devised. In the end she saw the futility of the whole charade and asked me for my advise. Me being me, with all sincerity suggested, ‘You know the full song of Chamak chalo don’t you? So every time you see teacher tell her one line from the song. Problem solved.’ Needless to say, I have one furious child at home!

Have a fantabulos back to school week you all. We have one more week as all our teachers and older children are in the music workshop by the Wayfarers.

Hermit crab
I was telling her how hermit crabs do not have a shell of their own, but pick an empty shell to live in.
Meija: Where does the hermit crab come from?
Me: From an egg.
Meija: Where does the egg come from?
Me: From another hermit crab.
Meija: Amma, (with hand action) I understand that this hermit crab came from that egg, that egg came from thaaatt hermit crab and so on. But that very first hermit crab in the world, where did that come from? Which was first the crab or the egg?
Me: Theriyaleye-ma.

Meta Physics
Morning rush. The situation was getting explosive between Chula and I. She is sitting in front of her breakfast plate and I have given her the 20th ultimatum, but nothing is working.
Me: Chula, if I were you, I would take this more seriously and at least ask for help. I don’t know what you are planning to do.
Meija: Amma, if you were her, you would do the same thing that she is doing. She is doing this because these are the things Chula does. That is what makes her, her. So if you are her, you will do her things and not your things.
Me: ::Fainting::

Mommy school
I am giving the child a bath.
Meija: Amma, you are putting soap so softly.
Me: Yes.
Meija: Yesterday when you put tiger balm for my back and chest, you put it so fast-fast-ly.
Me: Yes.
Meija: How do you know that soap has to be put softly and slowly and tiger balm fast fast?
Me: (Mockingly) Um, they teach all this in mommy school.
Meija: Mommy school? Can I go?
Me: Nope. One must have finished college, then go to another college, get a job, get married and only then they take you in to mommy school.
Meija: Do they teach you to make jokes like you do in mommy school?
Me: Yes.
Meija: Do they teach how to laugh like you do in mommy school?
Me: Yes.
Meija: Do they teach how to give hugs and love like you do in mommy school?
Me: Yes.
Meija: Hmmm, looks like you knew nothing before you went to mommy school.

Me: ??!!

Tip of the hat to Arvind Gupta. I can’t tell you why right now. But a great man!

Wag of the finger to the Intercity Packers and Movers. Accepted to move our car from Hyderabad to Chennai. After unloading it from the truck and before delivering the car to the Chennai destination, got in to an accident (drunk driving). Hit a scooty, luckily the boy riding the scooty fell on impact and rolled off (HELMETS DO SAVE LIVES people). Dragged the scooty for a distance of 5 – 6 km, got the vehicle seized by the police, bribed the police and tried getting out of all ethical, moral and legal obligations to settle the dispute. Big mafia, these people are! Stay away.

Its been a year since I did my GUESS THE BOOK book quiz. Its not that I haven’t been reading any good books off late, but to find the right book, that is a challenge to decode at the same time encourage people to play is the challenge. So I have a book, how do you want the clues, picture or verbal? Will post on March 7th.