Pensées - entry 00001

So... here. As promised in Pensées from Moi.

Original publishing date: Mar 12, 2010

Original title: Suddenly...

Pensées, from moi

How many of you know what Pensées are? Raise your hands.

"Pensées" (literally, "thoughts") is a posthumously published collection of notes made by the renowned French Philosopher, Mathematician and Physicist, Blaise Pascal, during his final years as he worked on a treatise on Christian apologetics. These contain his infamous wager/gambit.

'Meh!' You say. Rightly so.

Wishy-washy Arguments in Support of Belief. Yawn.

Following a few heated exchanges between us on Twitter, a journalist friend of mine has decided to put up a blogpost defending the ultimate accommodationist position: Why can't we all just make nice-nice and be happy together?

Okay, that was taking a bit of liberty (strictly tongue-in-cheek, of course!) in paraphrasing her position, but basically she is questioning the source of belief and the lack thereof. In particular, she is examining those beliefs that are not evidential/ material/ cogent in nature (Hmmm... Is there any other kind?)

She starts with a valid question:

How do we know these exist, if we choose not to believe that they exist?

Most unfortunately, she considers this as a rhetorical question, and therefore, comes up with a simplistic, outlandishly puerile, answer:

The answer to this is also simple: we know they exist and therefore we believe that they exist.

I can't even begin to describe the logical fallacies in this circular argument, that a seasoned journalist should never have committed IM(NS)HO. When did journalism stop being about fact-checking, objectivity, logical consistency, integrity of reportage and all that jazz? Sigh.

A most awesome rally! Only if...

S and I were at the Rally To Restore Sanity And/Or Fear yesterday! It was an incredible and awesome experience. Not to mention - ahem! - brief.

No, really. We were at the site of the rally for all of glorious seven and a half minutes before beating a retreat. I was/am so ashamed of myself, and it fills me with embarrassment even as I write this account.

And before any of you commiserate with me, no, it was not agoraphobia, nor enochlophobia. What made us leave post-haste was the concatenation of several powerful realizations - call it 'light-bulb moments' - chiefly amongst which were (a) both of us were vertically challenged compared to most of the crowd, and (b) the rally was being telecast live on Comedy Central and C-Span, and also being streamed live online.

A Decidedly Un-Robotic Open Letter to Nikhat Kazmi...

Dear Nikhat-didi,

aapne mera dil toRh diyaa... (You broke my heart). This was my first reaction when the end credits started rolling after "Enthiran: The Robot".

How could you? No, really, how could you? You are Nikhat Kazmi, an esteemed Senior Editor with the Times of India group and the author of a highly popular weekly film review column for the newspaper. La Esposa and I have been, for years, hanging on to every word you said in your movie reviews, because our collective opinions almost always found a reflexion in your eloquent ones. Sadly, you seem to have gone to the deep end now: you gave Four Stars to the newly released Rajnikanth-Aishwarya Rai starrer "Enthiran: The Robot". Intrigued about the movie and emboldened by your Four-Star review, we drove 50 miles to a theater in Gaithersburg to watch the spectacle, that purportedly broke all records by garnering Rs. 205 crores (1 crore = 10 million) through advance bookings before its release.

I want our money back.

I know we can't get those 2 hours and 52 minutes of our lives restored, but I have written them off to my stupidity and lack of foresightedness. I mean, seriously, what was I thinking? et tu, Nikhat-didi?

Dabangg: A pleasant surprise

S and I, with our friend, Neel, watched the newest Salman Khan starrer "Dabangg" last night in a movie theater in Columbia, MD. Not particularly fans of Salman, we were nevertheless intrigued by the news that it had broken the record of 3 idiots in the first week alone; so we took the half hour drive and checked it out for ourselves.

With extremely low expectations of the movie, I was ready for anything. Generally, S and I have always trusted the movie reviews by Nikhat Kazmi, a senior editor with the Times of India, because seldom it has been that our experiences have not resonated with her write-ups. Ms. Kazmi gave Dabangg four stars out of five, and wrote a generally positive review about this Khan Family production (Oh, yes! Salman in the lead, with his brother, Arbaaz, playing the underdog, and a smashing item number by Malaika Arora-Khan, in this Arbaaz Khan Productions movie). We decided to take Ms. Kazmi's cue (as we have done countless times), and leave our brains at home.

Boy! Was there a pleasant surprise waiting for us! I am not ashamed to admit that we enjoyed every minute of it! Completely mindless, the movie had no pretension to any message or subtlety; it was just plain old story-telling in the late 70s-early 80s Hindi movie ishtyle... A larger than life Salman, unabashedly corrupt in his role as inspector Chulbul Pandey, but with a frank degree of Robin-Hoodiness that makes him difficult to dislike. A hackneyed tale of sibling rivalry, but Arbaaz - undoubtedly a good actor - expressed well the angst of the younger, weaker brother. Sonu Sood, with a sculpted torso (and sadly, chicken legs), settled well in the role of a believable villain. Most of the other actors were in cameo roles, sharing the screen for short periods of time. We were surprised to see Vinod Khanna after a long time, and Dimple Kapadia in a deglamorized, albeit significant, role. Special appearances were put in by Mahie Gill and Mahesh Manjrekar, as well as veteran actors Anupam Kher, Om Puri and Tinnu Anand. In presence of such established industry regulars, Shatrughan Sinha's daughter, Sonakshi, the lead heroine opposite Salman, held her own quite well - although a large part of her role consisted of her giving smoldering looks; she is pretty and emoted adequately when required.

The songs by the Sajid-Wajid duo were hummable (my particular favorite, the title-song, 'Udd, dabangg, dabangg'), sung by the familiar voices of Sonu Nigam, Shreya Ghoshal, Sukhwinder Singh and the distinctive Rahat Fateh Ali Khan. Malaika was, of course, stunning as usual in the item number (by one Lalit Pandit), although the song somehow lacked her erstwhile Chhaiyaan-chhaiyaan magic. The fight sequences were well choreographed by S Vijayan; although almost all the signature moves (Matrix-type bends, leaps, falls, high kicks and punches) were reminiscent of similar sequences seen in Hollywood action movies, they were brought together into a cohesive whole that was thrilling. Salman also got to do his Hulk act where his shirt tears off and flies away - but a shirtless Salman has always been dear to the masses ever since his Maine Pyaar Kiyaa days. The dialogs were peppy and smart, very UP-Bihar belt type, with a surfeit of jokes that were sometimes downright silly - but they resonated well with the overall impression and flow of the movie. The cinematography by Mahesh Limaye was pleasing to the eye with scarcely a jarring moment, creating a nice, enjoyable visual experience.

It was undiluted fun! No higher cerebral activity involved, we enjoyed the thrill ride of Dabangg very much, as did the other viewers judging from their expressions.

In which I reason with my brother...

Yesterday I expressed my outrage on Facebook at two news items that were reported in the Times Of India - one about India still topping the list of highest maternal mortality rates in the world, and the other about the existence of an 'Untouchability fence' in Tamil Nadu. My brother, ever concerned about my health and well-being, took me to task for my comments, that seemed to him too vitriolic and negative (and therefore, bad for my health in the long run). He interpreted the comments as indicating that I was ashamed of where I am from, and counseled that respect is rare for people who reject their roots. He admonished me that if I felt compelled to post negative news and comments, I should demonstrate fairness by posting positive news also - perhaps thereby preserving some sort of cosmic balance, particularly since [he said] "No place is paradise and no place is a total hell". He also accused me of searching for "every ill on the planet" to comment upon (Just FYI: this is called the SIWOTI syndrome, "Something Is Wrong On The Internet") - which was still all right, but what shocked me was when he uttered this tired old sermon, "Be positive and solution-oriented, not negative and angry", very Deepak Chopra-esque in its vacuity and naïveté.

To a random pearl-clutching crank commenting thusly, I would say, simply, "f*** off." But this is no crank. This is my sharp-as-a-tack brother; he loves me dearly, and I have nothing but affection and admiration for him. And therefore, he deserves a reasoned response. I could start by counting off the interesting, heartening, even exhilarating news items that I have shared on FB, but that would be petty. Let me address the more serious questions.