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Tuesday, October 12, 2004


Like the light at the end of a tunnel ( from an onrushing train ) , the hitherto despicable weather in Gurgaon has turned mysteriously balmy. Wind-swept mornings and wintry nights ( don’t ask about the day, am supposed to be working, you know ) lure even the most lazy types ( read me ) to take walks. The roads are broad and mostly left alone by the gregarious Delhi-wallahs, and my perambulations are interrupted only by the odd canine friend who generally deems it on par for the course to snooze in the middle of the road.

Decided to make the trip to Delhi on Sunday to catch up with an old friend. The obdurate ways of the Hotel staff engendered the trip to the capital by public transport , precarious and hardy. Travelled by yet another mode, a Maruti Omni, driven at the speed of light, or sound in any case, packed by those unencumbered by the vagaries of the disappearing buses. The pitter-patter of the gentle clouds made the ride pleasant, albeit no songs en route. Alas !
Lunched at packed-like-sardines Andhra Pradesh Bhavan on Ashoka Road near the magnificent India Gate. This seems to be some sort of a Templar-at High Tide ritual for the Telugu –speaking gentry. Can’t say I care too much about the kind of service at the restaurant, Owner bellowing Token numbers, adroitly shepherding willing diners, superfast serving staff. The food was homely enough and there is an auditorium screening those revolting Telugu movies ( where Akinneni Nageswara Rao defies gravity, age and nature wooing a belle young enough to be his grand-daughter ). Maybe this is a bias all the more since the place was jammed with the know-it-all-annam pappu-pettu- software types !!Ha ha, that is yet another bias ! Very briefly toyed with the idea of buying a saree for home but the lack of ready expertise a la Calcutta made me retract.

Watched “ A Beautiful Mind” on the telly. Expectedly atrocious!
Yet another hackneyed script singling out those on the fringes of America’s sensibilities—the underprivileged, the mentally harangued, the fiscally challenged. Isn’t it so very easy to focus directorial pincers on the exceptions to the rule ?
Well, throughout the film, Crowe gormlessly mimics Dustin Hoffman of Rainman fame—right down to the body language, hunched shoulders, the unmitigated social disasters. I’ve read a few things on autism, and inexplicably Crowe needlessly resembles an autistic, not a schizophrenic tinged with genius.
James Horner’s score is below par, which is truly perplexing.
Overall, miserable.
End of Review.
SRT has said that he can only bat for about fifteen balls at a stretch. OK, we can bring him back then because at that rate, he can complete three innings….


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