Monday, August 07, 2017

On hating to love a show

Some five odd years ago, I asked Twitter, that fount of all wisdom, whether I should read the Game of Thrones books, or start watching the show. The show was in its first or second season, and the general consensus at the time was that I should read the books, and so I did.

I often say I have a love-hate relationship with the books. There is SO MUCH that annoys me tremendously about them. There is a ridiculous amount of seemingly unnecessary violence, which is not something I tend to enjoy in literature. There is misogyny and mistreatment of women on practically every page, and anyone who tries to bring up the old argument about how "that's how medieval times were" can just stop now - if the kind of language and curses expressed by people can be updated to reflect the 21st century, so can other things.

And yet, I plodded through all five books, even if the cast of characters had grown so much that I was constantly flipping to the glossary at the end to try and remember who's who. But I plodded through them, whimpering at various stages thanks to GRRM's insistence on killing off practically any character I started growing even slightly fond off. I plodded through, mainly because, dammit, you want to know what happens.

When I finished the fifth book, the next book was expected to release that fall. But it kept getting pushed, and pushed, and pushed, till I'm very sure it's never coming out at all. And meanwhile the show kept going.

I never wanted to watch the show, even though everyone said it was SO GREAT. I can barely read violent stuff in books, why on earth would I want to watch them depicted on the screen? And since this is a show that is talked about pretty constantly, I've pretty much known what the show is doing even without watching. And reading about things the show changed from the books, which more often than not sounded like they had just made things more unnecessarily cruel, did not make me want to watch the show.

But then in the last couple of years, the show has clearly overtaken the books. And while I still held out, thinking maybe the next to books would come out eventually, that just seems stupid at this point. So in the last few weeks, I've been talking to friends who do watch the show, and asking which season I should start from.

Almost without fail, the answer has been, well, why wouldn't you start from the beginning? Because, well, I don't want to. I'm already going to be doing this very grudgingly, my interest in watching TV has gone down dramatically in recent months (which is a topic for another day), there is already SO MUCH TV that one must apparently watch, and I only really wanted to start watching from where the show really starts diverging from the books, and then keep going. And based on that, the consensus seemed to be that Season 4 would be a good starting point, and I figured I'll plan on that.

But then.

I was travelling for work last week, and needed to go through a gazillion decks to prepare for a call the next morning. I was flipping through channels on the television to have something play in the background, and the most recent episode was playing as I came to HBO. And for some reason, I let it stay on that channel.

By the end of that hour, I knew I was going to have to start my binge watch sooner rather than later.

And then.

Last night, I happened to go online soon after the latest episode must have played. And twitter had clearly watched, and gone berserk. So I decided to watch the episode.


I spent the next hour gasping practically every five minutes. And now I can't decide if I just start my binge watch tonight and keep going till I'm up to date, or if I just watch this season as it happens and then do my binge watch, or do a combination of both, or WHAT.


Monday, July 31, 2017

It's food, you moron. Just food.

The summer before moving to the US, I was trying to find a classmate I could share an apartment with. I had set up time to chat with an American girl who was also looking for a flatmate at the time, and when we spoke, one of her first comments to me was "OMG I have to tell you, I love Indian food. And I make amazing chicken tikka masala!"

At the time, I laughed politely, but I remember thinking in my head - what on earth is chicken tikka masala?

When I moved to the US, I had several people tell me how amazing chicken tikka masala was. And it turned out to be served in the cafeteria whenever they had Indian food, in every Indian restaurant I went to, and by friends who said they cooked great Indian food. It looked like butter chicken, but tasted... blah. And for the life of me I couldn't figure out what this oh-so-popular dish was that I'd never managed to ever even hear of in Delhi.

Then of course, I read up on it, learned it was invented in the UK, and proceeded to roll my eyes and avoid having it as much as possible.

I have nothing against chicken tikka masala, I am just against people who have never lived in India telling me that Indian food is amazing when that is the only "Indian food" they've ever had.

This tweet popped up on my timeline yesterday:

This tweet made me hungry, but also made me think of another pet peeve that's been bubbling up recently.

I'm offsite tomorrow, at a location that is five minutes away from my favourite Indian restaurant in the city - their gulab jamun is to DIE for. And then I'm in NYC later this week, and have as usual already checked how far my hotel is to the closest location for The Kati Roll Co. The same coworker is going to be with me at both the offsite and in NY, and her reaction when I told her was "you want to have Indian food twice in a week?"

This isn't the first time I've got this question. When I came back from India last year, someone suggested an Indian place for lunch, and then paused and asked me if I was okay with that since I'd just come back.

First of all, can we be clear about something. For you, it's Indian food. For me, it's food. I grew up eating it. I live to eat it. Sure, pasta is great, as is Chipotle. And yes, I will admit, when I go home to India, I actually never eat Indian Indian food there, because I want my Indian versions of pasta and fried rice. But Indian food is just... food.

Second of all*, do you have any idea how many types of cuisine exist in India? I grew up there, and I don't know. Just because YOU have never bothered to eat anything other than chicken tikka masala, does not mean that's all there is to the subcontinent. In fact, show me one restaurant in Delhi that actually serves the blessed dish, and I... well, I'll promise to never visit that restaurant, that's what I'll do.

I mean, I could literally have "Indian food" every day for the next fortnight, and not have the same thing two days in a row. Less than a 5 minutes drive from my apartment is a chaat place, a dosa place, a chettinad place, a desi Chinese place, a Punjabi khana place, 3-4 biryani places, and half a dozen of those places that do buffets and serve a bit of everything. (Yes, I do live in the Little India area of this city). Literally the only thing missing from my life is Bengali food, although if I'm really craving it, I force my self to go to the Bangladeshi restaurant that makes mughlai parathas. And on occasion, I even manage to cook stuff that is somewhat edible.

So if I say I want to go have chaat even though I came back from India last week, or if I want to have a Maharaja thali on Tuesday and an Achari Paneer kathi roll on Thursday**, save the disbelief and pity a little. Because one of those is not like the others, and you're a moron to think otherwise.

End rant.

* I will confess, I was going to say secondly, but then I remembered this:

** Yes, you're right. There is a very good chance I have kathi rolls on Wednesday too if my flight gets in on time, but I'll probably do the Chana Masala roll that day. Although I just checked, and they have a Kosha Mangsho roll too that I've never tried, so it's 50-50 at this point.

Friday, July 21, 2017

Movie watching thoughts: Jagga Jasoos

I think it's fair to say I'm a  very fussy movie goer. I'm also a very lazy movie goer. Which means that unless it's a Marvel Cinematic Universe movie, or an animated Disney or Pixar movie, I only go for movies that meet at least two or three of the following criteria:
  • Has a storyline I think I'll enjoy - which also means not too gruesome or grim
  • Has a cast I like and for the most part approve of, and/or a director or writer I'm familiar with or like
  • Has good reviews by people I trust - both in terms of film critics and people I know
  • Has trailers and/or music I enjoyed
So then, Jagga Jasoos. I was not impressed by the trailer, and I hadn't heard any of the music. But I think Ranbir Kapoor is a decent actor; even if I'm not a huge fan, I've enjoyed some of his movies. Katrina Kaif is never going to be a great actress, but I liked her in New York and Rajneeti, so she's not a dealbreaker. Of the movies by Anurag Basu I've actually seen, I loved Life in a Metro and Barfi, and hated Kites, so there was a 50-50 chance on this movie.

The thing is, of the film critics I follow, everyone seemed to love it. My only pause for caution was when Rajyasree Sen on Newslaundry's podcast said she didn't like it, but then I got very irritated by things she said later in the podcast, and I think I just forgot what she said about this movie. And you know, I saw comparisons to Tintin, and heard there were references to Feluda and Sherlock, and figured why not.

But pretty much two minutes into the movie, I knew I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. And I would caution you about spoilers, but you guys, you should NOT see this movie, so feel free to just read on.

Let's start with the fact that they decided to make this a musical. And not a musical as in a Bollywood musical where a song plays every ten minutes. No, no, here the dialogue is in song approximately 85% of the time. And there is a reason for it, you guys. Ranbir's character - Jagga - stutters. And can only speak without stuttering if he speaks in song. So he sings. Constantly.

To be fair, when Katrina's character - Shruti Sengupta - responds in song, she does pause and ask herself why she's singing. And when the villain responds in song, he does so very sarcastically. BUT. It does NOT explain why Jagga randomly breaks into song and dance at his stoopid school.

Speaking of which:
  1. Did they ever study at this school? I only saw them listening to him explain his solutions for sundry mysteries, or dance, or be in the bathroom. Seriously.
  2. What has happened to Amitabh Bhattacharyya and Shaiamak Davar?!? I have absolutely no words to explain the torture felt due to absurd lyrics and ridiculous choreography.
I don't even have any memory of most of the thoughts that were mandraoing through my head during the movie, that is how bad it was. It's a very good thing the theater had less than ten people watching, because my two friends and I, as well as the three people sitting right in front of us, spent most of our time exclaiming loudly about the utterly absurd things that were happening.

I can't even begin to talk about how this movie was all over the place, honestly. It starts with something about an arms drop, that is apparently a true story, but clearly not one I had ever heard of. It then turned into a kids reading group at the Mumbai Book Fair, which, sidebar:
  • My friend from Mumbai promptly piped up to say there is no Mumbai Book Fair
  • That book fair looked less like a book fair and more like a shiny playhouse
  • 30 minutes of the movie is based in Kolkata. One of the lead characters is based on Kolkata. HAVE YOU NOT HEARD OF THE KOLKATA BOOK FAIR, YOU UTTER GENIUSES?
But I digress. That kid's reading group is weird on multiple levels, because a, these seem ridiculously dark stories for kids, b, there are people singing and dancing to the narration of the comic books being read out, which is just too complicated for me to understand, and c, the narration keeps jumping between Katrina Kaif's voice when the camera is on her, and someone else's voice when the camera is off her. The unknown narrator can actually narrate, so that was a relief, but Katrina Kaif cannot. I said this about Aamir Khan, who I have loved since the age of three, when I watched Rang De Basanti, which I also loved, and I will say this about Katrina Kaif after watching this movie, which has left me with many, many complicated feelings: If someone does not have a good or strong voice, DO NOT GET THEM TO NARRATE THINGS. And more importantly, but in lower case this time, do not randomly switch between voices in the narration.

The comics being read out (and sung, and danced to) to the kids start out as friendly Famous Five style mysteries (although I don't remember Enid Blyton ever dealing with murders), and then suddenly turns into very serious arms smuggling cases. The first arms smuggling case is introduced by Shruti as "not a very big case, but one of my favourites, for obvious reasons." The obvious reason is that she comes into the picture with this case, but how it's not a big case when they LITERALLY CATCH ARMS SMUGGLERS is beyond me.

The movie really wasn't coherent enough for me to talk about it coherently, but I will say this. I think the storyline had promise. The humour, based largely on how clumsy (described as "bad lucky") two people are, and how identical their clumsiness is, was largely funny, but went overboard too often, and was entirely predictable by the last hour. What I think made it all completely intolerable was the fact that they made it a damn musical. If they hadn't made already somewhat annoying characters sing practically nonstop, it may not have been that bad. And frankly, if you're making a musical, the music needs to be enjoyable. The only song I liked in the three hours was a sweet little song that could have played as a background song, and didn't have any choreography. Everything else was just annoying.

I also want to talk about the pieces of the movie set in Africa. I don't know much about African culture or languages, but part of me suspects a large part of that section must have had somewhat racist stereotypes, simply because its Bollywood. I also thought it was hilarious that Jagga saw the code 254 and immediately knew it was from a city called Moombaka, because I just know that code as the country I get spam texts that I ignore from. Then they came up with a place called Shundi, which immediately made me think of Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne, and as it turns out, when I googled it, it is from Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne. Also, those dances by Ranbir and Katrina keep doing to earn money? Who pays for such bad dances?!? Also, how is it that Katrina had a dozen outfits in her backpack along with the diary and her boyfriend's photo, but their passports and ALL their money were in the bags that they left behind in the hotel room or wherever?

Sundry other thoughts:
  • I like that a lot of the movie was set in Manipur, because not enough movies are. I like that they had people speak in the local language (at least, I assume it was accurately placed). Kolkata was shown too briefly to make much of an impact (again, they actually HAVE a book fair), but Manipur was beautifully shown. 
  • There is a cop in the "cases" who seemed like a mix of the annoying policeman who hated the Five Find Outers and the nice Inspector who always showed up at the end of the Secret Seven adventures to thank them.
  • Every time Katrina would fall I would wonder out loud how her glasses didn't break, and my friend would respond, "that's what you find strange in this whole mess?"
  • There is a girl in the Manipur adventures, who doesn't go to the boys' school Jagga attends (naturally), but he seems to be friends with. She is never named, I think she speaks only once - to explain what she discovered when doing research she was asked to do, saves their lives by calling the cops (which I predicted as soon as Jagga picks up a stone and everyone drops their guns, because seriously, this is that kind of movie). But not once is it explained who on earth she is. Hey, maybe she's the mysterious second narrator.
The movie had some genuinely sweet moments. And like I said, the humour wasn't all bad. But when you take the premise of a kid's adventure style case solving, mix it with a case like global arms smuggling, make a 34 year old play an 18 year old, and turn it into a goddamn musical, you just torture me for three hours straight. Thank the heavens AMC doesn't actually give an intermission just because the movie has an intermission.

But if you think I'm going to watch that sequel that was very blatantly hinted at, you're hoping for way too much.

I'm so exhausted.


I posted this last night, but then woke up this morning remembering more things I was ranting about during the movie, so you have the pleasure of seeing them too:

  • How did Shruti go from being a journalist looking into arms smuggling to a writer of comic books about Jagga?
  • If Bagchi was such a beloved Chemistry professor, how is it that all the former students who loved him so much ended up as journalists who wouldn't print things he wanted them to?
  • If the whole premise for being a musical was that Jagga stuttered and needed to sing to be understood, why is that the entire hospital staff did nothing but sing from the very beginning, even before Jagga realised he should sing nonstop?
  • When we were walking out from the theater, I was expounding on my theory that the movie would have been somewhat tolerable if it hadn't been a musical, and my friend argued that then what would have been the appeal of this Jagga character. My counterpoint: aren't literature and movies just FULL of gangly and awkward teenage boys, all without a stutter, who manage to appeal JUST FINE? Who DON'T SING?
  • I also realised this morning - I'm not sure I understood how the final case even got solved. Because there was the guy chasing them, who seemingly just disappeared, but they obviously managed to get away from him and get back to India. And of course there was the mysterious Big Bad, who they show in the last scene to oh-so cleverly set up a sequel. But if the Big Bad was behind all the arms smuggling, what was the stray line during one of the interminable songs about faking the arms drop to force innocent people int working for you? Either I completely missed something, or the ending made no sense. Or maybe I was just holding my head in my hands and groaning nonstop by that point, to pay any attention.
I was also so traumatised last night that I didn't remember to mention the Bengali pieces that I did enjoy:
  • Excellent uses of the phrases ghoda ka dim and gondogol
  • There is a Bengali poem read out at the prayer meeting that sounded beautiful, but also just made me feel sad and guilty all over again that I have never bothered to learn to read and write in my own language, and have therefore never bothered to read any of the literature that Bengali is so full of


Thursday, June 29, 2017

Pet peeves

I've been both lazy and incapable of writing for the last 6-8 weeks, which means June is almost over, and I've written nothing. And because there are too many things going in this world that are annoying and/or worrying me, I'm choosing for today to focus my energies on things in my world that annoy me. Pet peeves, so to speak. Or as the kids call it these days, #firstworldproblems.
  • People who won't press "Off" on the office microwave when they're done with it, so when I come to use it, it'll be at 00:03. This is hell on my OCD tendencies, people.
  • The fact that UPS and FedEx are nice enough to deliver on Saturdays, but won't bother coming to my apartment to check if I'm home (I am. Every. single. time. (Mostly.)), but will go straight to the leasing office and drop it off with them.
  • The fact that my leasing office works from 9 am to 6 pm on weekdays, which is half an hour after I leave home in the mornings and anywhere between half an hour to two hours before I get home in the evenings. Which means I can only pick up packages (or express general annoyance) on the weekends, when I'm travelling more often than not. (Hence the 'mostly' tacked on up above.)
  • Pimples or zits that appear on my cheek at just the right spot that they're in my line of vision as I glance downward to type or write. I usually ignore my monthly bout of pimples for the most part, but the ones that like to appear at just that spot annoy me tremendously.
  • The fact that after surviving my teenage years without too many zits or pimples, I now have a nonstop outbreak of them more than a decade later.
  • Hotels that give soap bars instead of soap wash, because it just seems like such a waste - especially when you're there just for one or two nights, which is how most of my trips are. Also, hotels that ask you to reuse your towels, but then they fold up your towels and put them back with the clean ones, and if you're sharing the room with someone, you have no idea which one you used, and which one your companion did.
  • Banks that won't let you set travel alerts on your credit card through their mobile app or mobile website, and won't let you open their full site from your phone or tablet. What if I didn't bring my laptop with me, you geniuses?
  • The fact that every pair of black jeans I've ever bought fades to the point of turning white in a matter of months. What am I doing wrong here, people? (Apparently what I'm doing wrong is not turning them inside out before throwing them into the washing machine. Tch.)
  • The conference call I'm currently on, and conference calls in general.
  • Speaking of which, what is with ads or people in general saying they don't have a meeting till later, so don't have to go into work till then? Are there people who go to work only when they have meetings? When does everything else that meetings get in the way of get done?
Now excuse me while I go off mute and yell at someone for a while.

Monday, May 08, 2017

On distractions

The mother is a strong believer in the power of distraction. When the brother and I would start squabbling in the back of a car as kids, she would suddenly say excitedly:
Look at all those trees! Let's count how many we go past!
Why don't we count how many Maruti 800s we pass on the road?!
Quite a few, as it turns out, when you were driving in Delhi in the 1990s. So by the time we got bored of counting, we would have forgotten what we were fighting about, or even that we were fighting at all.

The brother and the sister-in-law visited me this past weekend, and at some point the three of us got into a heated debate over something while waiting for our desi Chinese takeout to be prepared. I can't remember what we were arguing over, but it was quite clear the three of us were not going to agree anytime soon. And suddenly my brother turns to his wife and exclaims:
Look at all those red lights! Let's count them!
His wife stared at him utterly confounded, as I burst out laughing. By the time she understood what her husband had been trying to do, an entirely different argument looked likely to erupt.

Luckily for my brother's life and marriage, our food was pronounced ready at that very opportune moment.

Tuesday, May 02, 2017

We may have to prepone that

I can't remember how old I was when this happened, but at some point in my childhood, the father came home and asked me, "Did you know prepone isn't a real word?!" Shock and awe was felt.

Turns out, he was interacting with a Japanese company at the time, and in the pre-Google days, they would take to the Oxford dictionary to make sure they understand every word of English written by the Indians. The word prepone, as it happens, was not listed in the dictionary. It was a perfectly appropriate word Indians had invented, which, in the decades since that conversation with my father has in fact been added to the Oxford Dictionary. Mirriam-Webster, on the other hand, still considers it a word they're "watching." And Blogger's spellcheck clearly doesn't recognise it.


I have an American coworker who has worked in and with too many countries for his own good. He speaks Spanish fluently, and has huge German and Portuguese dictionaries sitting on his desk. He once spent several months in India on a project, and has opinions on several things about India as a result.

He sits close to my desk, and is able to hear a lot of my conversations at work, and observations about them frequently ensue (a favour I equally frequently return). He'll comment on how my voice automatically sounds more Indian if I'm talking to someone from the subcontinent, he'll chuckle at the first hint of a turn of phrase I might use that may not be native to the US (did y'all know "cribbing" is not a word Americans use?! They say grumbling, it seems), he finds it hilarious that Indian Standard Time has "that whole 30 minute thing going on" (so what if his country has half a dozen time zones, and an incomprehensible Daylight Savings thing that some states don't even follow), and he loves to talk about the words Indians have invented. Like prepone.

So this morning, I was on a conference call. I stayed on mute for the most part, but had a 30 second update to provide in the middle. As I finished my update, and went back on mute, he suddenly piped up.
You had the perfect opportunity to use the word prepone and you squandered it!
What? What did I say?
Didn't you just say you may have to move up something?
Yes, but...
Why would you not say prepone? This was the perfect time to use it and spread the use of the word!
I didn't think of...
You're becoming too American in the way you speak, that's what the problem is.
*gasp* I am not!
Maybe I am, y'all. This is very sad.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

On brooding

I have nothing to say these days.

Well, I have a lot to say, but nothing I want to put to paper - or more accurately, to the interwebs. Things are currently a bit of a shitshow personally, professionally, and in the politics I follow in two countries, and let's face it, that is pretty much the trifecta of things I tend to write about.

I suppose I could write about how I've suddenly gone from not knowing how to listen to podcasts, to listening to more than half a dozen, over the course of six months. Or I could tell you how someone I love very dearly recently told me that I "choose to build a gender bias in [my] lens," and that it's "time [I] grew out of it." Or I could finally put out that list of pet peeves that's been sitting and growing in my drafts folder for a while now.

But I'm choosing to just brood instead.

So I have nothing to say these days.

And that deserves a blog post all by itself.

Friday, March 31, 2017

Movie watching thoughts: Beauty and the Beast

I wasn't really having any thoughts while watching Beauty and the Beast last weekend. It was late, part of me couldn't believe I wanted to see this movie since the original barely made a blip on my consciousness (apart from Celine Dion's voice), and all I was really thinking was, oh hey, two movies in one month.

But then Belle tried to escape from the castle, and the thoughts started tumbling out. Usual spoiler alert disclaimer, etc.
  • Mainly, I was thinking, if the horse stayed with Belle at the castle (since she had him both when she tried to escape, and when she actually did leave to go back to the village), how did Maurice get back to the village the first time, after he was let go?
  • How is it possible that as Tale as old as time started, I suddenly remembered every word, and was able to sing along?
  • I really don't remember much of the original movie, but... was Shakespeare around in it? Or guns?
  • That little squeal of delight Belle gives when she's left alone in the library is everything.
  • Dan Stevens was kind of redundant in the movie, no? I mean, literally anyone could have played him for most of it, and the 2.5 scenes it's actually him were so... blah.
  • Although that's not completely fair. He was pretty good in the rest of the movie. The scene where he's getting ready for the dance and ranting about how he just blurted out asking her to a dance was quite cute.
  • All that brouhaha over "OMG first gay characters in Disney movies! This is sacrilege!" for... that? 
  • Oh, Belle is an inventor in this version of the movie. That's cool, I guess. Did we actually see any of that other than the laundry trick, and her knowing what tool her father needed before he asked for it?
  • I couldn't understand the passage of time in the movie. I always thought the curse was one of those that lasts centuries, and time stands still, and no one ages etc. But if the staff at the castle had family in the village, then the curse couldn't have lasted that long? So how long was it, really?
  • I definitely couldn't understand the enchantress' deal. She lived in the village, and no one liked her? She suddenly randomly shows up in two scenes, but without explanation or anything? Meh.
  • Did we really need that reaction from Cogsworth to the woman who comes and hugs him at the end, who I assume is his wife? I mean, she was mean throughout the movie, but really? The Beast gets a sad backstory for being heartless etc., but she was just mean, period? It kinda, sorta annoyed me.
  • Part of me continues to be as big a fan of Celine Dion as I was back in my teens. Which is why, even though Ariana Grande and John Legend do a perfectly competent job of reprising Tale as Old as Time, they really don't come close to the original version by Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson. And I did make my cousin stay back for the credits so I could listen to How does a moment last forever.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Movie watching thoughts: Lion

I finally saw Lion last night, which brings the number of movies nominated for an Oscar this year that I have seen up to two (well, five if you count Fantastic Beasts and the two animated movies). Which is still higher than my score in most years.

The only other movies I've seen this year are Dangal and Hidden Figures, and since I never quite got around to writing the post I wanted to write about those two, here are, in no particular order, my thoughts on Lion.** There may or may not be spoilers. So y'know, proceed with caution etc.

  • The first 45 minutes of the movie are heartbreaking. There is no other word for it. I have so much more I want to say and think through about that part of the movie, but I don't know how to put any of it into words.
  • Sunny Pawar is the most adorable kid I've seen in a movie in a very long time. I wanted to just grab him up in a hug, and I don't even like kids for the most part.
  • How gorgeous were even the glimpses of the countryside from the train windows? And @dailyoverview should post practically every overhead shot of India.
  • Even the more sinister parts of Kolkata are so beautiful.
  • I miss trains. I miss trains in India. I miss India.
  • It's mark of how cynical I've become that as soon as Noor and Saroo started talking, my first thought was, why is she being so nice to him?
  • When I saw the names of Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Deepti Naval pop up in the credits at the beginning of the movie, I sorta expected them to show up for longer than a scene each.
  • Was I the only one who didn't get the logic behind Saroo's adoption? Mrs. Sood told him she wanted to ensure no child who shouldn't be in the orphanage is there. Saroo has a family somewhere, they can't find his family, so they found him a new family? Shouldn't the effort to find a new family be focused on children who have no family at all? Not that Saroo shouldn't have been considered (for lack of a better word) too, but the way that conversation played out just seemed weird.
  • Was there a heartbreaking line than "aapne sachi meri ammi ko dhoonda?"
  • All the families I know who have adopted children from a different country have travelled to that country. So it seemed a little strange that the Brierleys didn't.
  • Speaking of which, the woman who escorted first Saroo, and then Mantosh, to Australia - is that a full time job for some people?
  • What was going on with Dev Patel's hair during the second half of the movie? I was alternating between being horrified, fascinated and jealous of those curls.
  • I wish we could have seen more of Mantosh's backstory and life in general.
  • I have now seen two or three movies with Rooney Mara in them, and I still don't recognise her if I happen to see her in a photo or anything.
  • Those were not jalebis in Saroo's friend's kitchen, you guys (was she given a name?). Those were amritis (or imartis).
  • Speaking of jalebis, I fully expected Saroo to stop and buy some when he walked through that market area on his return to Khandwa.
  • This is probably my urban dweller privilege speaking, but is it really possible that Ganesh Talai had not changed at all in 25 years? 
  • The friend I was talking to at lunch today about the movie expressed amazement that I did not break down crying in the first half of the movie. Given my track record, I was actually equally amazed. I will freely admit that I did break down during the reunion scene at the end.
  • I will also admit to gasping out loud when I read about what happened to Guddu.
  • I did not see the twist about Saroo's name coming. I remember thinking it was weird that his biological mother was saying it wrong in the reunion scene, and then going "huh" when it was revealed that his name was actually... Sheru.
**Man, I write long sentences. I need a Toby Ziegler in my life.

Friday, February 24, 2017

Avoidance mode

I've gone into avoidance mode on the internet. I'm on twitter these days mainly for the puppy photos (and the Twitter app is very nice about always showing those to me at the top of the "In case you missed it" section), or to complain about the nonstop work travel I've been doing since the beginning of the year, or just whine about life in general.

In real life, however, the debates and the discussions continue. When you live in Texas, you really can't get away from them. It helps that my immediate work team has views similar to me - at least overtly. But there are some who clam up when some of these topics come up, and you know they quite possibly disagree with you.

Then there are those - some coworkers, some former classmates - who are more inclined to share their views, and you listen to them, and you try to see their point of view, and you do your best to not roll your eyes in front of them, or jump in with explanations on how they're wrong to feel the way they do.

Because a, who are you to say you're right and they're wrong (even though you are and they kinda, sorta are), and b, you didn't have a vote in this election, and they did. Sure, they wasted their vote by writing in names, instead of taking a stand, but they had a vote.

I think the people who infuriate me the most are those who tell me they take the stand they do because they believe in conservative fiscal policies, and "don't really care about the social stuff". Which is the exact opposite of the way I see things. I mean, sure, part of that is because most things related to the economy go over my head, but GAH. Because these are also the people telling me they agree with "one or two things" Trump has said/done, but of course he's crazy/scary.

It also annoys me that I'm usually so flabbergasted by this last line that I always, always forget to ask what they actually agree with.

So yeah, I'm avoiding the online world for the most part. I'm listening to podcasts instead, and watching a lot of late night TV, because at least there, I'm shown some way to laugh at all the craziness.