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By Kiran, August 23, 2010 10:15 pm

Today, as I was tuning in to watch Family Guy reruns for the seven thousandth time, I noticed that Miss Universe was live on NBC. After the first fifteen minutes, once India did not make the final cut, there really was no point to go on. I say that with no less respect for the rest of the beautiful ladies in the competition, but because I realized that the super-perfectness of the super-beautiful women was so superbly equal that there wasn’t really much of a competition left.

In 1994, just a few months into our family getting our first television, Miss Universe was playing on Star TV, and I still remember as if it were yesterday, how I watched with my jaw on the floor, my eyes unblinking, sighing every two minutes and feeling hopelessly in love with these fairy-like women walking in dazzling gowns to some angelic melody.

The thing about the 1994 show was that, each of the women visually represented her country, each woman was uniquely different in her mannerisms and her bone structure that you could remember who each was in a lineup, and finally each one seemed more folk-princess-like than global-model-like. The 2010 show, on the contrary is too perfect and consequently monotonous – put this way, every woman was about the same age (23-24), exact same height (5’10), i can bet the same weight give or take 2 lbs, the exact same waist (some showing a little more rib than others), exact same hair style and length (2 inches below shoulder), and even almost the exact same tan (pale white is no longer vogue), very similar cheek structures, and equally pretty facial features. In fact the similarities were so striking that a Photoshop amateur could put all their faces on one’s torso with no loss of quality. I kept asking myself how the judges quantify their perception of this perfectness to two decimal places so casually.

Think of it, this is exactly what happens to competitions over time, the winning margins tend to zero. The 500th of a second lead in the butterfly, the winning soccer goal aimed at the exact top right corner, stretching the world record by a tenth of the second in the 100m. I suppose the coaches of the Miss Universe too, have all honed their formulas over time and have come on top with more or less the same equation and hence the near-equally-perfect contestants.

If this is competition now, I can’t even imagine how Miss Universe would be in say, 30 years. There will be no choice but to replace human judges with algorithms.

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By Kiran, May 14, 2009 10:01 pm

Fairy tales are required to have happy endings. It is an unwritten but universal rule. But for the protagonist of the tale, there is always a price to pay, a battle to be won, a villain to be conquered, or even just a phobia to overcome before that happy ending is in sight. What if there was no moral for that tale, no particular life lesson embedded between the lines, no warm fuzzy feeling to be experienced by the audience, would that be a tale worth telling. I think yes.

I watched Pan’s Labyrinth for the fifth time in three years. Rarely does a film come by that leaves me truly spellbound and stupefied at the same time. A transcendent tale with a captivating story that interweaves the realism of life with the escape of the surreal, Layrinth is one of those masterpieces that can only be dreamed up by a visionary like Guilermo Del Toro. The dark blue undertones, the constant rain, the atrocities of fascists, the haunting lullaby tune, the simple and crisp Spanish dialogue, the subdued expressions of the little girl – all mesh beautifully into the somewhat dark, beautiful and often disturbing fairy tale. But to me, what was most enthralling was the ease in which the real and the surreal border on each other and on occasion even control each other.

Maybe that is why its a movie. Because experiencing such surrealism is usually delegated to those bordering on sanity, or the ones whose thoughts are enhanced by a substance, or the lucky few that have found god. I like to think that humans have a unique gift; they can create a world inside the world, not necessarily imaginary, not necessarily real. But one where their version of truth and beauty is unrestricted, one where they are not necessarily daunted by the laws of physics or metaphysics or affected by their physical shortcomings. And I point not just to the artists and free radicals that give form to their abstractions and metaphors, but in fact to the normal man that seldom feels the need for a reprieve from his worldly duties. But its almost ironic that there is always a labyrinth whether above and beneath our feet, even in our fairy tales there is always an elaborate scheme of tests to pass despite the ease of simply skipping to instant gratification. For most people, their dreams and hopes exist in both realms but their paths to the same are almost divergent. The fortunate and brave will see a confluence of paths at some point, but more than often every real-world labyrinth will often stop at a dead-end, at which point the surreal version also starts fading into a memory and gets replaced by another more realistic one.

Maybe the least I can do is appreciate the beauty of our minds’ wanderlust, and the creativity that it spawns. And for reminding me of that, I thank you Guilermo Del Toro.

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By Kiran, April 20, 2009 8:52 pm

Over the last three years, both the mainstream and online news media have become increasingly biased, siding more strongly than ever on specific issues and marching to the drumbeat of their respective parties. These differences have grown so deep and caustic that the news from each network almost sounds like its from a different planet. There used to be a time when we used to just get the news and we had the freedom to form our own opinions and impressions; now, the real news is reduced to a small fleck among the endless opinion-spewing talking heads’ rants. There used to be a time when reporters would use plain and objective words to describe the day’s events; now every event is preceded and superseded with a long line of opinionated adjectives. Are we really so dumbed down that we need some network honchos to make up our minds? As I pondered this question, I came up with two reasons for this widening chasm:

1. We hear what we want to hear – The anchors on MSNBC are smart, witty and lucid; I feel entertained by them. The anchors on Fox are loud, adamant and pointed; I feel a little turned off by them. But that’s just me, there are millions of people out there that prefer the exact opposite. So yes, I am indeed biased towards tuning into Maddow and Olbermann every night, but I do take the time to listen to BillO and Hannity once every blue moon however irrational they might sound. Most of my friends would never watch those Fox “clowns” for the simple reason that they want to believe Obama is doing a great job; and most of Texas would not watch Maddow if she were the last reporter on earth. Ok, I am stereotypeing, but the point is that we like the networks which rehash what we believe.

2. News outlets need to make a profit too – Does Rupert Murdoch care more about the well being of Americans over his own balance sheet? News networks are not in the charity business; they are in the ratings business. MSNBC’s bush-bashing agenda has almost carried them to the top. And Fox has been investing serious resources into Obama-bashing to rally its own viewer-base. Of course, it could have been a lot worse if the government owned all the news channels, but what worries me is that the falling profits and recession could trigger even more bias in order to keep the revenue coming.

Most frightening of all is the increased radicalism at both Fox and MSNBC; while it is good to present both sides of the story, they have of late chosen to completely ignore that sacred line in the sand. The last one year has been nothing but a bloodied fist fight – the nightly name calling, sponsoring citizen protests, party-bashing, offhand jokes, blatant self-promotion. The tea-party ruckus from last week highlights this divide more than ever; yes, there needs to be dissent in a democracy, but that dissent must arise from the people themselves, not a news outlet. Media should not sponsor such uprisings, instead they should cover them for what they are so that the message is spread to other like-minded people. Get over it, there is never going to be a perfect government, and there is never going to be a perfect president, there is only going to be a majority of sorts. If everyone agrees with everything the administration does, there would be no checks and balances, and the government would gravitate towards authoritarianism.

Media has immense power in shaping people’s thoughts and opinions, and with such power comes moral and ethical responsibility. I truly believe that BillO can still be the bully and Olbermann can still be the smartass even if they chose to bash both sides. If the networks are trying to entertain us, somehow I don’t feel that entertained, I only feel disdain for such hatred and lie-mongering. The worst part is that the internet media is only two paces ahead of the broadcast media on the bias scale. I have yet to see Daily Kos and Drudge Report point one mistake in their respective parties; for the last few months, I have to desperately seek one, just one, unbiased political commentry – I’m still searching. I plea to you, big news, do not corrupt us, tell us things as they are without the added bullshit, if you have specific opinions please warn us about your affiliations beforehand so that you don’t mislead and miseducate us. And please dont make fair and balanced just another joke.

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By Kiran, March 8, 2009 11:07 pm

is now stuck in my head. The seven basic notes of classical music are the 101 of all basic music learning, yet I have never heard of them till last week when I was asked to memorize them till I could sing every song in these syllables. The first thing that came to my mind was Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Da Ni, the Indian counterparts which I have heard more than often yet underestimated their importance.  Two other new words that I encountered – “Solmization” is the attribution of a distinct syllable to each musical notes, and “Solfege” is a solmization technique used to teach sight reading of music in which each note is sung to a special syllable called solfege syllable.

Interesting historical evidence from Wikipedia on the origin of this system:

In the eleventh century, the music theorist Guido of Arrezo developed a six-note ascending scale that went as follows: ut, re, mi, fa, sol, and la. A seventh note, “si” was added shortly after. The notes were taken from the first verse of a Latin hymn below (where the sounds fell on the scale), and later “ut” and “sol” were changed to flow with the other notes, while “si” was changed to “ti” to avoid confusion with “sol”.

Ut queant laxis resonāre fibris
Mira gestorum famuli tuorum,
Solve polluti labii reatum,
Sancte Iohannes.

Going back to the Indian notes, or swaras as they are called, the seven notes are actually derivatives of shadja, rishabh, gandhar, madhyam, pancham, dhaivat and nishad. Interestingly, these swaras are believed to have originated from the sounds different animals, and some have additional meanings of their own. The association with animals is as follows: Sa (meaning Sagar) – Peacock, Re (Bull) – Bull, Ga (Gagan) – Goat, Ma (Middle) – Dove, Pa (Fifth) – Cuckoo, Dha (Dharti) – Horse, and Ni (Outcast) – Elephant. Unfortunately, I am unable to find better reading material related to the origin of these swaras, but I am sure there are references in most sacred Indian texts.

Isn’t it uncanny that two different systems of music that originated centuries ago in separate continents were developed with almost the same kind of notation. Maybe music historians have better empirical detail on their origins, but it makes me wonder if this similarity is causal or coincidental. Maybe there is a common underlying mathematical foundation that guided the early musicians in developing these swaras and solfege syllables alike, or maybe there was a transitional culture that influenced both the aryan and germanic ones. Sometimes, these basic constructs that we so easily take for granted have such a rich and complex history spanning centuries and thousands of influences, that we have to but feel belittled by their enormity. I can’t help thinking that one day there will be a “Da Vinci Code”-like revelation about this coincidence.

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By Kiran, February 22, 2009 5:13 pm

I suppose there are scores of rave reviews for Slumdog Millionaire out there; so i figured it wouldnt hurt to do make the count into count+1 (spoken like a true geek).  Even though Bollywood is still the most profilic movie churning machine in the world, there are probably only a dozen or so truly unique and inspirational films that emerge from it each decade. I have to wonder how a nation of such diversity, rich heritage, and endless possibilities, continues to dwell on the rich girl-poor guy and the two guys-one girl-triangle stories month after month. Is it because love, especially forbidden love, is such a difficult subject in India that it exists only in our imaginations and in our movies.

Slumdog to me, was everything the papers said it would be – simply beautiful, spellbinding, and inspirational. But very rarely does a movie come along that actually gives you that shiver down the spine, that tintillating good feeling, and that sense of joy that one might only experience in a first love or first kiss. The cinematography and the screenplay are of course meant to provoke such emtions, but deep down Slumdog reinforces for us feeble-minded folk that the purpose of life is not just in the achievement of our heart’s desires, but to take in the full richness and enormity of the elements in the journeys we make. Though I would work hard for those material luxuries without a second thought, once in a while I wish I was the protagonist from Slumdog who got to live and experience life and its hardships in their full glory. Does being born as an average middle-class person simply justify the morosity and morbidity of our everyday life, and more importantly does having a wonderful childhood and never feeling amiss of anything make us boring, weaker and risk averse in life.

The underlying love story, the rags-to-riches rise of an underdog, and the happy ending go a long way to defining the success of the movie. If in an alternate universe, the same movie did not have a happy ending, would it have received the same acclaim and admiration its audiences – chances are it wouldn’t have. Over the last twenty years, of all the thousands of Indian movies I have watched, I can probably count on my fingers the ones that didn’t have a happy ending. I am not a sadist even in my worst of times and love happy endings myself, and believe that they play an important part in shaping our opinions about any art form. From the rising tempo of an orchestra to the suspenseful end of a paperback to the finding of the true love in a melodrama, they play an important part in how the human psyche assimilates and associates the theme of the art form into a lasting impression.

It is my understanding that our thoughts and consequently our behavior in this world are based more on the principles that are passed down to us and the barriers that society implies through its norms, and most of us live our life through a template built and shaped by those that came before us, a template that is defined by the perceived happiness of the people who surround us and the at-occasion artificial goals that seem be glorified by our families. However, Slumdog Millionaire shows us a different picture – that simple and mundane events of our daily lives actually define who we are, and such fleeting instances of our existance can either be relished in all their glory or simply ignored as another iota of time in the vast bucket of eternity. Before this review turns into a Deepak Chopra tome, I will pause and defer to the oscars that will be awarded tonight. If the academy has any sense of the impact a movie like this has on people, it would emboss Slumdog Millioire into its big prize, and allow me and a billion other yearning souls to rejoice  and appreciate both the intrinsic beauty of our simplistic lives and our wonderful heritage that is India.

Update (9 PM): Slumdog did win. I used to keep telling my friends at my workplace that “The Indians are Coming”, and I am happy that I can continue to make that assertion without a doubt in my mind. This is a proud day for my countrymen, the Oscars reflected both the admiration and the enthhusiasm for the Indian people, and while the show itself could have been a lot better, it was a good start. As always, I am inspired by the humility of AR Rehman and tip my hat to him; there are few people like you who can make such beautiful melodies that touch millions of  lives and yet be so grounded to their roots. Hence, I say unto you as I hath said before, “the Indians are coming”.