Movie Review: Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na

I thought I’d add a new feature to my already very insipid blog called (very aptly) Viewer View. Dubble Vee, as I call it fondly, is named (very aptly, as mentioned earlier) because review seems to suggest viewing the movie again and I can’t guarantee that all the time and viewer (which makes up the apt part) is actually an anagram of review. So, DV, as I fondly refer to Dubble Vee, today is about a movie called ‘Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na’ (as mentioned above). So, here we go with Digital Voyeurism (as I fondly refer to DV)...

I saw the night show of this movie yesterday and today (as the show extended past midnight, technically speaking) and I felt it was awfully dumb.

Re-views of this highly detailed analysis of the movie are unwelcome (which isn’t necessary to be told, I’m sure).

Unfortunately for your tired eyes and greatly red mind (because of all the blood around it, and otherwise...), I’m not one for short posts so I’d just ramble on...

The last few weeks have been mainly spent trying to complete the hexaple with Tottenham (winning the Community Shield, Super Cup, Champions League, Premier League, FA Cup and League Cup in a single season) for the sixth consecutive year, praying for a certain mailman who paints a tennis court not to do the same (with full respect for his game) and biting the dead skin on the sides of my thumb trying to anticipate the rabbit-hole brothers' next moves as they try to break out of jail, again. Not greatly productive work, I’m sure, but whenever the electricity somehow conjures up a way to go out for minutes at a stretch, I can’t help but feel helpless about my social apathy at this stage. I’d only gone out of the house once in the past three weeks, that too to empty the ATM and bug the cell phone service guys. I hadn’t called (up, on) any of the numerous friends I was dying to meet a few months ago. I realised my only connection with the outer world had been a certain social networking website named after Finnish for ‘multiple *rg*sm’ and my balcony. Ah, the balcony. How much time I used to spend there, staring blankly at anything I could find- the huge apartments building ahead, the thele-wala just at the edge of the crossroads, the eternally-under-repair bridge over the drain which had a stream running down through it where the washermen had smartly placed their beating rocks (the not-so-pleasing-to-the-ears rock music) and, of course, all those people passing by- pedestrians, bikers, cyclists, cars, school kids with their tired spines and dreary faces, coaching class victims with their even more dreary faces, all kinds of people. Voyeurism (in the most positive sense possible) was a wonderful activity; made me relax but still kept me thinking. Now, the overgrown coconut trees’ branches obscure my view of the road ahead but I still love to lean down on that steel railing and look straight ahead, right up, crane my neck way to the sides- do anything to feel like I’m still living in a world with six and a quarter billion people.

As for my social ventures, after a less-than-eventful class reunion (even there I managed to earn a few expletives, and left the fairer gender totally awestruck, in the most negative sense possible, with my amazingly unkempt hair) and a trip to a rare sun temple with the family, supermarkets’ food-and-drink sections were the only contacts.

A(n? Still confused over this) year away from my place and I’ve become an introverted, anti-social, rude imbecile, who can barely start up a conversation. And I surely don’t like it. A change of attitude, a change of personality, a change of outlook is on the cards. I feel like I’m trying to walk sideways, and I’m ending up falling by the wayside. Too many ‘I’s in a sentence surely isn’t a great sign either, for my writing skills. I’m actually thinking of quitting the very magazine that I had thought of committing my heart out to for three years. And I’m not watching enough South Park. These last two very rare days, where a trip has been made to a lower way of sandwiching and the movies, might be a good start. Now, is the time, for a change...

P.S.- The movie review feature will still run, although not that conspicuously here forth.

P.P.S.- My sincere apologies to those who were offended by the title, and decided not to go through the post. But, wait, they wouldn't reach this part anyway. Sad.

P.P.P.S.- I've caught yet another cold, which resulted in this post being typed with greatly mucus-afflicted hands. Useless info. Anyway, no girls read my blog. And, even if they do, the hair was repulsive enough, wasn't it?

P.P.P.P.S.- Yes, Sushi, this thing is pretty popular because we never run out of things to say which are totally out of context.