Life is meaning less.

Will you kill yourself for doing something that you have always wanted to do? No? Meet the man who did exactly that. Vincent Van Gogh, the artist I love the most. The man had never known success in his life. Never were his works really admired till his death.

In 1890, after painting ‘Wheat field with crows’, which is arguably the most intense of his paintings, Van Gogh shot himself, supposedly claiming that this work was his best and he can’t better himself again. He was a deeply depressed man through out his life and the argument over what his illness was still continues, even after more than 100 years after his death. That makes me think: if such a ‘mad’ man can create something so intense and so timeless, why have not we had another artist of such intensity from millions of ‘normal’ people born after him? Some say the intensity probably was because of his ‘madness’. F*** ‘em all!! To say that is just unthinkably foolish denial of the genius and passion of one of the greatest artists the world has ever produced. Then what does separate such men from us – the mere mortals?

Why do we often feel depressed in spite of all the material wealth that we have surrounded us with? Why we are so poorer in our souls in spite of the riches we have acquired? Why do we often desperately try to search for the ‘meaning’ of our lives? Are we getting our priorities wrong?

Passion. Probably that is the one important factor that sets them apart. Most of us die without ever finding something that fires us. Something that we would happily give our lives for. And then we complain about the grayness of life.

More often than not, we do things in anticipation of rewards (monetary as well as otherwise) from the outside. A double-digit hike in the salary. A small appreciative smile from the boss. A big hug from a friend. How often have we done something for making just ourselves and not anybody else happy? (I can see some sinister smiles from you perverts out there. But guys, I am talking about happiness, not pleasure – though for many, it might mean the same)

I bet you can experience such pristine happiness only when you create something. It might be building a complex, path-breaking rocket technology. Or seemingly mundane task of preparing a sambhar. So if it is not what we create, then what is that which really matters? The very act of creation. The emphasis is more on the journey itself rather than the final destination. Now comes the moment of truth. The judgment I am going to give (I know it is stupid to pass such a quick judgment on such a huge question that has plagued man’s mind since he started having one. But I have the right to be, since this is my blog!) is the most clichéd and the most easily overlooked: Enjoy every moment. Change the way you feel about what you do. Voilà! You would say “I am the happiest man in the world.” Just like Suryah in the movie, SOK (previously JOK).

Okay. It is not as easy as I portray it to be. But, that is not a reason strong enough to keep us from starting.

The meaning of life is what we give to it.

Tailpiece:
One of my aims (in fact, the only one in my life) is to learn oil painting and recreate one of Van Gogh’s masterpieces, preferably Cafe Terrace at Night or Wheat Field with Crows. I am sure I am going to fail terribly. But as I said, what we go through is more important than where we end up.

Vettaiyadu Vilayadu... a Big Joke

I remember a dialogue, from one of thalaivar’s movie, I guess – “dhrogathilayae periya dhrogam enna theriyumaa? Nambikkai dhrogam”. VV has done exactly that.

I bet you would have never seen Kamal Hasan so uncomfortable in any role. He would sure have been better off without this movie in his career. He has so much difficulty carrying his weight around in this movie. Literally. I have no problem with a fat hero as long as he is comfortable with his figure on the screen. But, in VV, unlike in PKS, Kamal is clearly not happy with his figure and he tries desperately to mask that. And meets with only failure. It really aches to see such a good actor deliver so pathetic a performance. Just think of the kind of cop he played in Kurudhippunal, Soorasamharam etc.

Gautam seems to be a one-film wonder. (I wouldn’t dare call Minnale his movie; it totally belonged to Vivek and Harris Jeyaraj. Even Reema was not that hot, I swear!) I sincerely hope Gautam proves me wrong. If he was hoping to compensate the lack of gripping screenplay (if there is any) with lot of gory violence, he is terribly mistaken. Some of the scenes remind of his previous slick cop movie – Kaaka Kaaka. The comparison, as inevitable as it is, brings out the insipidity of the plot. As a generic rule, thrillers would have a number of suspects at the beginning, from which the detective hero would wade through a lot of clues and unexpected twists and turns to finally nab the psycho before he kills the skimpily clad heroine. Nowadays, the heroine herself finishes off the villain, especially if the director believes in gender equality and more than anything, wants to cut down the bill. After all, who wants to have a highly paid hero when the heroine herself can do the simple job of killing the villain at the end while simultaneously adding quintessential GQ and SFX (special effects… through her high-pitched squeals) to the film?

Unlike typical psycho thrillers, which play up the fear factor, VV, being a whodunit mystery type, could have had some moments of intelligence and interesting dialogues (not exactly the type of comments that Kamal makes towards the climax, about the sexual interests of the villains, even though that was exactly what was on my mind). Again the villain, played by Daniel Balaji, pales in comparison with Pandya, again from KK, played by Jeevan. Someone please ask the director fraternity to give their villains, a nice hair cut and reduce the volume when they talk. Again why did the director have to lend his own voice, at least it sounded more like Pandya's, to the other villain? Budget probably.

And of course, Prakashraj, such a great and stylish actor, has been totally wasted. The director could very well have pitted Kamal against Prakashraj, playing a suave psychotic gentleman (oxymoron?) along the lines of Dr Hannibal Lecter. (Just before the intermission, one could see the poster of Hannibal staring at you from the walls of the villains’ room – that is called attention to detail… Grow up Gautam!!) That would have made an awesome plot and could have provided scope for intense encounters between these great actors, just like those between Kamal and Naaser in Kurudhipunal.

I don’t know whether Gautam’s creativity has touched a new low. He did not even think of new names and uses the same names from Kaaka Kaaka – Maya, Ilamaran etc. He knows for sure that those names are very well etched in the memories of any Tamil moviegoer worth his salt. And gosh!! Why the hell did he have to use his own house address in Gandhi Street, Kaanagam, as Kamal’s address in the movie?

I hoped Gautam would have given some life to the mediocre songs, which should have given Harris much less trouble, given that he had so many tunes to chose from his own recent hits like Ghajini. Partha muthal naalae, the song with Kamalini Mukherjhee, seems to be the bottom of the list in terms of visualization, given that one invariably is made to compare it with “Ennai konjam” from KK. At least, “vennilave” has a moment of hilarious relief when the director himself joins the street dancers in the background.

Gautam could have better used his DVD library membership and watched a few racy, Hollywood psycho thrillers before making the movie. Or even better, his own film, Kaaka Kaaka (sure he must have a copy of it at home!)

The whole film seems to be a big compromise (nobody seems to have an idea of why they started the film), given the track record of the brilliant technicians it had – Ravi Varman, the award winning cinematographer behind Anniyan and Five Star, and Antony, the editor behind Kaaka Kaaka, Manmathan and many other box-office hits. The quality of cinematography is so “good” that it instills a lot of confidence in any first-time photographer. Most of time, the screen is occupied by the bloated faces of Kamal (with that never before, hopefully never again ‘totally lost’ looks!) and Jo.

At the theatre, I was fantasizing that somebody would wake me up and tell me that I had had a bad dream and VV is yet to be released.

They say there is nothing worse than the death of hope. (I think this is from Shawshank Redemption). VV has not dealt a death blow, but sure has cast a serious doubt on the big Brand – Kamal Hasan.

Talk Less and Talk Sense!!!

Actions speak louder than words. True. But most of the time, we are blind (deaf?) to them. Even if noticed, they finally settle down as mere sound bytes - thoughts, if you insist, inside our petty brains. How do we form the words that we let reside in our brains or let out through our never resting pouts?

Often they are from the periphery of our consciousness. Arrows without the energy of sense (logic or emotion) that never reach their assumed targets. These blind darts cause more wilderness as they hit everything but their targets.

Blame the brain for our communication voids. Yes. It processes information, not that we have too much of it or its higher cousin, knowledge, at such a rapid pace that our poor vocal strings can’t match. In a wasteful attempt to run along, our faculty for speech puts the words out as they come along, often making us sound stupid. A slower brain and a mouth that can match its pace will do us more good than the faster ones. In fact, slower brain and hyperactive vocal cords form a dangerous combination.

So? Let’s talk less. If possible, talk sense. For aspirants: if you can, think less.

Why we read Philosophy....?

Ever wondered why do we read philosophy? Why a dumb book like The Alchemist/The Monk who sold his Ferrari, which tells nothing more than god is there to help you (but not in so few words), is so much hyped up? Why so many trite books on positive thinking are bestsellers? Why there is still so many clashing ideologies and resultant confusion even after so many millennia of human existence and exploration of the Truth?

One of the basic premises of psychology is that mind dislikes uncertainty and tries to satisfy itself through a self-made explanation of the situation at hand. If you cannot make it up for yourself, then borrow. The very essence of philosophy is to explain things in terms of what we know - with our limited and confusing vocabulary and experiences. That the end result is even more confusing is not surprising.

If you tell me that all these people are searching for The Truth, I am sorry. Nothing could be farther from the truth. A passable answer could be that they are trying to escape from reality as they see it.

Believe me. Philosophy won’t help in your escape regardless of whoever/whatever/how much ever you read, for the simple fact that all of these philosophers are trying to explain their experiences and thereby satisfy their own minds. And incidentally satisfying their wallets as well. I know the following statement is so trite, but I need to use it here. Each individual is unique. This calls for unique philosophical volumes for each individual. But if we were to have such volumes, one would be dead by the time one counted them. How then do we make use of the existing theories instead of adding to the confusion?

A rational approach to learning requires the student to have at least a basic idea of what he wants – what he aims to achieve through the study. An identifiable, definite goal is to make you more sensitive to what happens. To equip yourself with skills and knowledge so that you can decide what life means to you and what to do with it. After all, the meaning of life is what you give to it. Improve your observational skills by focusing on your physiological and psychological health. This helps you in becoming more receptive, free of the limitations of logic. After all, it is your happiness and not logical precision that you are after.

A recurring theme across eastern philosophical literature is that enlightenment is instantaneous. Bhagavad Gita, arguably the best piece of philosophy on the whole earth, says enlightenment is remembrance. It is like tuning into your favorite channel on your radio. The song is already there in the air. All you got to do is to switch to the correct frequency. Tuning your antenna into the Existence. This is where, I think, the western philosophy gets straitjacketed by its over-emphasis on logic. Instead of improving the sensitivity/receptivity of the student, it focuses on squeezing reality into tested and established patterns.

I would like to digress a bit (as if I already haven’t) to try to interpret the concept of nirvana/Buddha/bliss. Nirvana is a state of mind (I would rather not use ‘absence of mind’ as many Buddhists say for the simple reason that mind may still function as a faculty even after enlightenment). It is a state of mind that brings out the best in you. From this springs your attitude or bhavana (for the want of a better word), which determines how you feel about what happens to you, and ultimately your happiness. It is like carrying your climate wherever you go.

Regardless of whether you like the concept of determinism (if that sounds too heavy, use fate) or free will or a compromise of the two as The Alchemist puts it, it is your experience that matters the most. If you feel good, go ahead and use it. Don’t worry about its authenticity and popularity. As long as you get cured, does it matter whether what you had is a placebo or a regular pill?

Morality of capitalism!!

’’If you feed a hungry man with a fish, you feed him for that day; instead, teach him fishing and you will feed him for the rest of his life.’’

This assumes willingness on the man’s part to learn fishing. Have you ever wondered what would a hungry man who has neither the skill nor the intention to acquire it do? And if the world is swarming with such men and you are one of the few who can and do fish, can you imagine your plight? Can you be sure of getting your catch home safely without being plundered or begged off? What would you feel for such parasites, be they beggars or looters? What would your moral disposition be? Compassion? Hatred? Indifference?

If you can’t see the enormity of what you are facing, read Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.

Atlas Shrugged is breathtaking in its scope and suspense, for it is about the murder - not of a body but of the soul of Man. Miss Ayn’s intellect cuts through the heavy mists of mystic confusion to expose the schemes and tools of Evil, or call them second-handers, if you will, who feed on the Creation and eventually, the Creator himself.

This masterpiece, originally titled as The Strike, reveals how the most important forces of human life - Money and Sex, have been used by the Second-handers, over the history of mankind, to keep the Creators in chains so that they can go on without ever bothering to produce. John Galt, the protagonist of AS, carefully drains the world of its productive energy by pulling out the Creators from the world into the Atlantis, a place where each lives for one’s own sake and never asks another to live for the sake of others. And for the first time in history, the Motor of the world stops, leaving the world to rot.

In a language that has a lucidity and profundity rarely found elsewhere, Ayn puts forth, with convincing arguments, the virtues of Selfishness as against the vices of Charity. However the rhetorical denigration of compassion and other similar human qualities that Ayn makes throughout the novel might get on your nerves. Not surprisingly, one finds no good mothers or family members or any heart-warming relationships in Ayn’s works. But that cannot be a worthy reason to miss this great book.

One of the reviews in MouthShut warned readers against the righteousness that they might get after reading Atlas Shrugged. I believe the righteousness of Reason is far less malevolent than the righteousness of religion or righteousness of renunciation. If the value of any idea is in its applicability, Ayn’s philosophical ideas are more valuable than most of the trite philosophy dished out today.

Brought up in a nation, which goes on living, denying existence, trying to lose its faces if not souls, with the hope of rewards far beyond in time, space and every other conceivable dimension, I find various scenes of Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead being enacted almost everywhere with the help of many Atlases who never care to shrug . One can see Peter Keatings and James Taggarts all around if one cares to wake up. And if we dare, we can find variants of them within ourselves too.

Read it. And you will begin to see. And would feel ignorance was bliss.

I chose not to be blissful.

Ironically, I am reminded of the verses from Gita, which could very well have been said by Roark or Galt.

Of lordly elephants I am Airâvata, of the wielders of weapons I am Râma, of the flowing rivers I am the Ganges, of the Pandavas I am Arjuna. I am the highest possibility of everything.