From SMSing how to get into the concert, and asking my friend whether “I was ankit ka dost evam do saathi”, or “Hum ankit ke dost hain”, would work at the gate. We were slightly late. The show had started. And there sitting on the stage was Beerbal telling a story about two girls named Satya and Kahani. For a moment I felt like King Akbar collectively with the rest of the audience, listening to Beerbal solve a cause. So fine a salesmanship it was, that it was very easy to forget, that you were being sold. Sold the philosophy of prem. But how would you sell ‘prem’ without seduction. And it was an act of seduction. The audience moaned collectively with vaah vaah. The symmetry between the philosophy of kabir, with the bhava on his face, was yang and yin.

Picture courtesy Ankit

I had read Kabeer earlier, here and there…once or thrice. I found them profoundly common sensical learnings. I was seeing him today in a new light. One of softly yellow lightings, and smartly dressed, tasteful crowd. There was no hint of NCPA snobbery at the Yashwant Chawan Auditorium.  The stewards were old, gentle, government employees, who pulled open doors and showed you the way.

Unfortunately couldn’t meet Ankit because his was phone was on silent. Will keep an eye out for him.

Seen at Rourkela railway station. How does one design with usability in mind on one hand, and protecting public property on the other?

I had goose bumps From this youtube description, the lines means this:
Tse Kus Be Kus Teli Wan su Kus
Who are you and who am I then tell us who is he the creator that permeates through both you and I

Moh Batuk Logum Deg
Each day I feed my senses/body with the food of worldly attachment and material love (Moh = attachment)

Shwas Khich Khich Wang-mayam
For when the breath that I take in reaches the point of complete purification (Shwas = Breath)

Bhruman daras Poyun chokum
It feels like my mind is bathing in the water of divine love (Bhruman = nerve center in the human brain, poyun = water)

Tekis Takya bane Tyuk
Then I know I am like that sandal wood which is pasted for divine fragrance symbolic of universal divinity. I realize that I am, indeed, divine (Tyuk = Tika applied on the forehead)

A glitter stones and squiggles bindi on the right corner of the mirror.

A half used pack of condoms beneath the bed.

Red hued spots on the wall reminiscent of explosively opened wine bottles.

Of long barefoot walks on the beach. In and out of the loopy arcs of the waves.

Smooth flat pebbles and blue-velvety remains of a sea creature waiting to be made into a pair of ear rings.

Of smooth round flat seeds floated in from god knows where, painted on, sitting in the hot humid afternoon, shirtless and in a lungi.

5 liter water bottles and sand which gets into every nook and cranny. Waiting to be discovered a few months later when you are back home.

Old 1940s hollywood fare with headphones on in the evenings.

Mid aged aunties becoming kids again, soaking in the surf.

Gang of drunk marathi boys trying to make a human pyramid in the safety of the crashing waves.

Guys who will ask a white girl for a picture with her. Or use their long zoom lens to take voyeur shots, all day long.

Kids from Mumbai having there bacchanalian break.

The early morning beach cleaners picking up the empty bottles and the half eaten corn on the cobs. The green tea made in the room with a Rs 50 immersion heater named Deepak. And then the hot porridge at the shack for breakfast.

The tattooed and pierced waiters from Himachal, who can speak in 10 languages and who can put on their charm at a moment notice on well heeled white women. And men.

The thin old white man in a g string doing tai chi in the evening in front of the setting sun. The indian families who pretend he is not there.

The barking dogs on the way back from dinner. Who always end up wagging their tails, when they sense an absence of fear.

Goa is good. Always.

The intro aside I would like to get into the main issue here. Today morning when I came into office and was reading my emails, peon Thambi came and announced that two people urgently want to meet me. I asked them to come in. They entered. One of them was middle aged, whereing a white joobaah, what you call a kurti in hindi. And a white gold edged dhoti. He was also wearing a pretty heavy gold chain on his meaty neck. The slight smile on his face made my apprehension disappear. The other guy was young and thickly muscled, and was wearing a maroon lungi with multicolored flowers. His shirt was open halfway down showing lush hairy vegetation.

“Ghung goon ghoon”, said the young man.

Why tell me, I said.

“Ghung goon ghoon goon”, said the young man, looking at the elder man, who nodded wisely.

This morning would be hard, I thought. How can I explain these simple folk of the vagaries of global warming. Of what harm their brothers and sisters had done to mother nature through the centuries.

Nowadays it is easier to forecast the winner of IPL, than to predict the rains, I thought. Sometimes we pick a card from a deck we have. That deck has various combinations ranging from humid, slightly sunny to extremely wet with knee deep rains. But how can I tell that to these men, who have such faith in my oracular powers.

“Ghung goo goo goo” this time the elder man said. To which I woke up and found myself staring out the window at a city pigeon.

–

P.S. Selvan is around 5′6, weighs around 80kgs, and I am pretty sure can dhobhi pachad all you facebooking ppl.

Feedback is very welcome, and other designers are welcome to join in.

Do you see a marked similarity in the two visual styles? Do you find this style very different from the normal bollywood style? I find both the fonts reminiscent of hand painted ’special signage’. Now hand painted signage has almost vanished from the major cities and metros. Due to cheap printing technology which have reached this places, you can get digital control over the final output, rather than depending on the whims and fancies of the sign painter. And being cheap is not a small deal.  But small towns where these printing has just begun to sprung, hand painted signs are still widely seen.Also apart from the hand painted signs, the bling everywhere, with lights and the wannabe glitz. As I have seen subtlety is not a forte of the small emerging towns. Globalization has brought its affects even to these towns with every alternate house having a son or a daughter working for a big IT company in Bangalore. Uncles chat around the milking gwala at the local dairy about how their son has just sent 10 lacs from US. Definitely bling is in.

Another similarity between the two films seem to be newly launched Hero/Heroine. If both these assumptions are correct that would lead to the conclusion that this was intentionally done; so that the producers wanted to target small towners. These small towners might be residing in big cities earning their livelyhoods, but that doesn’t change much.

Does anyone know how to find how much a movie made at the box office in different areas? If these movies (one of them yet to be released) made more money in the smaller towns, then these assumptions will stand true. What do you think about these thoughts pulled out of my non existent hat.

If you are interested in movie posters, check out these posters - Agneepath, Singham and the minimal bollywood posters movement going on here.

Got this pic and the following info from taimur.org . The yellow pigment in the painting has been created using the urine of mango fed cows. Though it says just mango, I am pretty sure it is ripe mangoes. Ripe mangoes are high in pitta. The fire element. Yellow in color. And since cow urine is considered sattvic, it can still be used in painting which is considered a sacred art. This is an example of a non-health application of ayurveda.