Lapses of lingy…

Most relationships, in the scheme of things, reek of clichés.

But once in a while it can get interesting — if for instance, the events are prophesised. The roomie when she’s not cutting deals in her capacity as relationship manager, advices friends and relatives on how to manage their personal relationships, careers too, through tarot reading.

A couple of weeks back, we got down to doing a ‘relationship’ tarot reading for me. What sort of guy should I look for? When will I meet this person?, yada, yada, yada. The readings repeatedly threw up a specific card – The High Priest.

This card indicated that I would meet someone much older through work. He would prove to be more of a mentor than a lover. And I would eventually meet someone else, post, whom I would fall in love with. The next card indicated the time frame of the meeting from the time of the reading. ‘Soon’ it indicated. I was curious about the follow-through. I didn’t have to wait long.

Then, I was invited to attend an event through work. This brought back a memory, which lay buried in the back alleys of my mind – my interactions with a very interesting individual, whom I met a couple of months back during the same event. He’s not a geek or a stud. But his personality is captivating, an exquisite blend of wit, intelligence, knowledge, wackiness, passion and a degree of quirkiness. The first time we spoke, was when he cut into a very dull conversation I was having with someone else, accusing me of, in Lousia M Alcott’s words, a ‘lapse of lingy’. I was impressed and a little intimidated simultaneously, a strange mix that often works. We chatted a bit and that was that.

Could he be the mentor, which the cards foresaw?, I asked my friend Sulagna. Since the relationship cards acknowledged this person, I did not discount the fact that his capacity as a mentor could spill over to attraction too. But I was getting ahead of myself.

I did meet this person again and the initial reception was somewhat nonchalant. But as the time progressed, we seemed to ‘gravitate’ towards one another. There’s nothing like a GREAT conversation. And we proceeded to have one, that steered a racy course through politics, Japanese culture, food, books, the corporate movers and shakers, India, education, poverty, ideas etc. Why we do the things that we do. Why we are the way that we are. All that jazz.

Talking about relationships was inevitable. Apparently he once got ‘too illegally close’ to this single girl he met, even though he is married to a woman of his own choice. When the former dumped him for a ‘wonderful man’, he was depressed for a while. Though such dalliances seem pretty horrifying in the marital context, there was a certain humour in his choice of words. It had a ‘boys-will-be-boys’ ring to it.

At this point, I must add the laws of attractions were working overtime. However, in my experience, I’ve discovered that one feels attracted to a new person every two weeks, sometimes twice or thrice a day in a city like Mumbai. Attraction is highly overrated. Eventually it dies out and destroys the foundation for other wonderful possibilities, like friendship, solid work chemistry, hangout buddies or a mentor-mentoree equations.

So, during the conversations I proposed some work ideas, because I felt that his wealth of knowledge could benefit many. Then I was on my way.

On returning home I shared my experiences with the roomie and she did yet another tarot reading. The card I picked revealed the King of Wands. The card described a ‘man who I was thinking of at the time of the reading’. It described his personality as quick-witted, spontaneous and intellectual. He is very popular and could be a bullying coach who turns losers into winners. He also has a bit of roving eye. But beware, this chap in most probability has a family, whom he is very committed too. He’ll make a great friend, but anything more and one could be badly burnt.

More dope here on the King of Wands

How precise, I thought. My friend Nishant enjoyed my story and is tempted to get a tarot reading done himself. Many of use have suggested that the roomie pursue her gift, with more conviction. However, she has yet to have faith entirely in her own abilities.

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Saw Parzania on Saturday night.

This film, based on the 2002 Gujarat riots does not mince words.

You have the victims (lay people from the Muslim community and one Parsi family), the villians (VHP, policemen and the state government), and then there’s a third entity — a drinking-smoking-swearing aetheist of an American (Corin Nemec), who’s down in India to do (ironically) a thesis on Gandhi (Nemec got an Emmy nomination for his role in the NBC series ‘I Know My Name Is Steven’, way back).

The main purpose of his character is to be an instrument of the truth — to carefully construct the sequence of events, which lead to the violence, the attitude of the police during and the events post, through his personal experiences and observations. Basically put two and two, together .

He states in his thesis that the attacks were nothing less than a well-choreographed act of genocide, and the mobs loaded with swords and trishuls, knew exactly where the victims lived. What’s shocking is that, it was with the then and current Narendra Modi government’s blessings. Either that or NM was the mastermind.

When terrified, wounded people fled to the police for help they were told: ‘We have no orders to help you”. A doctor who kept 10 ambulances ready after a phone call from a victim, was not allowed through by the police. When a father begs the police to help him find his family, his bike is doused with kerosene and set a light by crazed VHP activists.

He also makes an interesting observation about religion and violence to the effect of, ” Religion is the root cause of violence, and most often it is religion, that helps us cope with the tragedy, thereafter.”

The film also depicts the special hearings conducted by the Human Rights Commision, post the event. The victims are expected to relate the events, however they shudder with fear and concoct tales of how the same policemen (now seated in the vicinity and staring at them threatheningly, like the VHP heavyweights), came to their rescue.

Theatre actor Atul Kumar plays the role of a greedy pimp, who also illegally sells banned bootleg liquor to the Americans and others.

His little brother, a servant called Chotu, amidst the madness of the riots helps save Sarika’s character and her little girl. Consecutively, he shames Kumar’s character into confessing the truth of what he witnessed during the riots, making him the first one to confess at the hearing. Courage inspires courage and others follow suit.

Naseerrudin Shah’s performace rocked the boat as usual. Chotu’s character, though just a bit part, was brillant. Just proves that common sense has nothing to do with age or religion.

Atul Kumar is also very good. Nemec is excellent too. And some of his conversations with Naseer’s character are very memorable.

The film is directed by Rahul Dholakia, a Gujarati NRI based in the US. This director has balls.

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I’m not much of a live concert person since dust and crowds both make me cringe.

But Buddy Guy was somethin’ else and this Guy (some folks prefer to call him ‘God’) still makes magic on stage.

Besides being spontaneous and witty, he’s wilder than today’s artists half his age (despite the drab safari suit, the attitude is in the man and not his clothes). He’s a total ‘audience person’, walking bang into the crowd about two or three times. And coaxing a gal (with a terrible voice) to sing.

We got to hear Mustang Sally, Fever, Knock On Wood etc and some Ray Charles.

But I loved the blues THE BEST. He’s got this laidback way of singing, that suddenly gets all powerful, and when the sexual innuendoes (and there are a lot of those) come in, he ‘mmmmms’ a lot.

I never knew there were so many blues lovers in Mumbai. Bumped into some Pune people too, who drove down for the entire lenght of the festival. In fact, most of the Mumbai people I bumped into at the concert shared a Pune history with me.

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Watched Deepa Mehta’s Water last night on DVD and liked it. Some parts of the film, which deal with deprivation — like a 70-year old widow craving for a juicy ladoo, last eaten by her on her wedding day when she was 9 years of age — is simply heartbreaking.

Such scenes are crafted in a simple manner, but the meanings are not simplistic, in the least.

Someone asked me today if this is relevant in today’s India? How we privileged people tend to write off the troubles and atrocities experienced by others in a parallel unverse even today.

Coming back tot he film, John Abraham and lady love Lisa Ray stood out like sore thumbs in this 1938-period film, amongst an ensemble of really good actors, Gerson Da Cunha, Raguvir Yadav, Manorama, to name a few.

I suppose a good actor elevates any role to another level. Aishwarya and the gang, are suspended by a thin thread. This thread is held tightly by a great director, but it could snap any time. And God forbid, it’s in the hands of a bad director.

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