Sunday, February 26, 2006

Sunil the Shayar.

I don't know why, but he is on my mind since the past few days, especially after I heard about CVS's death. CVS was our professor in Mass Comm. I did not know him much, but he was interesting. Thats for sure. We all will surely remember him for his animated talks full of life and enthusiasm. He took our film appreciation classes, a major Amitabh fan, he was full of stories. I ofcourse had an attitude at that time & thought that learning to appreciate films was such a waste of time & a no purpose thingy. I was in search of a purpose. Sadly, I still am. But there were many who really enjoyed this man's company. Since I was always at such a distance from him he never would ask me for my submissions & I would do him a favour by submitting something for his class. But man, do I suddenly regret not knowing him.

This brings me to Sunil. The shayar of our class. A real deep thinker, critique to the core. He was in love with hindustani classical & sher-o-shayari. I remember rushing to the library to find material to submit some last minute assignment where i would find this guy in rubber slippers,chewing gutka & busy reading something with his walkman on. On my first day to the uni, when I bumped into him, I was like "godddddddddddddd" do I have to study with these kind of people. I suddenly regretted being in a prized group of 18 students in a reputed course of one of the top 5 Universities in India.But when the ice was broken, this was the same guy who I gelled with. I remember sharing his earphone and suddenly realising how beautiful Classical music can be. Till then I was fed on total bollywood songs(thanks to my dad I knew a bit of Ghazals & sher-o-shayari,my dad used to conduct sham -e-ghazals to encourage budding poets & to fuel reputed ones,but by the time I grew up my dad lost complete interest in everything,so did not learn to appreciate or understand it much). Total Sindhi girl,no taste for art.But with Sunil, I went back to appreciate shers.

We used to keep exchanging shers. I used to deliberately make an attempt to listen to them, so that our conversation is interesting. He used to call me the Harrapan dancing girl.Not because I danced, but because I used to stand like her.(for those who dont know,with hands on the hips). Now I tried to consciously not stand like that,but he would more or less catch me off guard standing like that. I can go on and on.I dont know why I am thinking of him. So if any of you guys know where he is, please ask him to get in touch. The last I heard of him was in 2004 when he wrote in that he was filming with ShriPrakash Sir on some heady stuff.I SMS'd him too. He says,he has no idea about his where abouts. So guys,please.And Suinl,in case you read i do remember "tum aa gayeey ho, Noor aa gaya hai,naheen to chiraagoon sey lau ja rahee thee"

Sunday, February 12, 2006

pic



Thats me now.See,thats what she talks about. Heavy dark circles, unkept hair, no real style clothing and no taking care of oneself. But she still loves me;-).
She's got new ways of describing me now.'complicated' 'retarded' 'dreamer' 'split-personality.....' to name a few.To the extreme left is my dad, the one in glasses is my mom,next is a cousin who came visiting from abroad with her aunt next to her & her aunts daughter.Then me.

Mom's Fav



Thats my mom's all time favourite snap of mine. She goes "See, till u were in my hands you were so beautiful, I kept you so well, you were my princess. And look at you now. Total junglee,ungroomed,untidy,blah blah blah.....". But I am still her princess. I still cannot do without her good morning kisses. I have a total Mother Fixation. hehe. As a kid I never used to like my mother talking to other kids. I wanted her all for myself. I used to insist that where ever she is, when I come back from from school on Saturday, I should find her home or I would sulk endlessly. She's the best thing the creator gave me. This one time God, I am greatful to you. Thank you.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

The Human White Balace Theory. (Shrinath Jayaram)

This is a very interesting piece.Jerry, my class mate from P.G. had written it to all of us explaining his theory of the human white balance which he had started off while in the University. I hope its O.K. with him that I am posting his letter here, but since its got nothing personal & sounds high funda,am hoping he is fine with it. What I noticed here Jerry is that you were playing the same game that you so detested"Bullshit Bingo". Remember!!!!!!!! Read on......

Folks,

I kinda figured out the now fabled "Human white balance"
conundrum. And I am in a tearing hurry so, please flex your
meaning making muscle to the fullest.

What I meant to say:

You white balance a camera's eye to factor in color
distortions (from the ideal of white light) caused by
prevalent light conditions. In doing so, the image that you
transfer to the recording medium (tape) remains true to the
color scheme of your mise enscene (which is as objective to
an individual as it is subjective to different makes of the
solid state device, the color distribution, that is).

You white balance the spectator's eyes by being reflexive
to your "worlding" - your ontological, epistemological
location; your lived experience. There are many aesthetic
strategies to achieve this reflexivity. But the analogy
with the white balance is that, in the tragic lack of any
objectivity at all, you need to represent the phenomenon by
placing yourself in the frame and not purport to represent
some "objective" noumenon. Just as you place the actual
light conditions in front of the camera's eyes.

Its easy to white balance a camera, because the object you
choose (a sheet of white paper), you can confidently say is
"optically white", and the "whiteness" can be pretty much
objectively quantified.

But if you're worlded with the notion that you are just an
aberration from the White Anglo Saxon Protestrant
Heterosexist ideal, then white balancing your own eyes and
subsequently your audience's might prove to be an
impossible task.

The trick i think is to decolonise the mind.

Jerry