Of Mat Jumps and Face Packs…

I don’t consciously try and make the blog titles esoteric or cryptic even..they just pop out of my head, all baked and ready to go. Quite like how this happened. And in case anyone is interested (Pshaw! Yeah right…) how that happened…read it right here.

Onto the actual stuff I wanted to convey…I’ve been doing some different things as a part of my gym routine and one of them is to jump on mats. Big deal, right? Wrong!

Jumping on 3-4 3 inch mats stacked on stop on each other in a way that you land on your feet, don’t wobble and don’t sound like The Hulk landing is something that 30-somethings may have some trouble with.

For us, jumping went the way of the Dodo. Especially for the heavier amongst us, viz moi, find it a tad difficult to do without either feeling ungainly or self-conscious.  In any case, whatever we can’t do any longer, or have stopped doing; is the focus of what we need to do to reboot this state of being unfit and unhealthy.

This morning, after a good night’s sleep and an even better awakening, I stepped into TGIF mode with a vengeance! After dropping off the offspring, something that always gets a big grin on my face a la this momand a nice stroll around the campus, I oiled my hair, put a cucumber pack on my face and was dancing blind aka without the glasses to everything from the Moanna OST to jazzy Hindi songs. And feeling quite peppy and not crying out for the oxygen cylinder like before.

All hyperboles aside, when you can and do jump up and land lighter on your feet than you have in more years than you can count, it’s a fantastic feeling! This is why kids are always jumping…it’s fun! Each time you go up in the air, it’s exhilarating and when you come down again you’re buoyed up to zoom straight back up! It’s liberating at the very least and extremely affirming.

I want to go on a trampoline right now but am not sure about the weight limitations on them so I will take it easy for a bit but I might play hopscotch. And soon!

Listening to- You’re Welcome (Moanna OST)

Image courtesy: Justin-hebert.com

Saturday Bloglet#2

Meanie Mommy recommends pretending to be seriously and totally grossed out when your offspring threatens to pour slime on your ankles and legs. 

The child will pour and rub like a zealous slime-pourer and rubber and you will get a lovely little massage from those soft little hands. Accompanied by wicked cackles from a munchkin of course!

Movie Review: Logan

Wolverine. Aged. Not Healing at the speed of light. Dying….oops! Spoiler alert!

Logan is the most extreme addition to the Marvel comic-movie universe till date. I’d say it leaves Deadpool behind solely because there’s just one of Deadpool and there’s more than one individual who bares their claws in this movie. Else Deadpool was slicker, funnier and definitely the better movie.

The reason Logan didn’t work for me personally was due to the action sequences and the overall flow of the movie being repetitive. It has its share of imposed pathos (C’mon, kids being made guinea pigs to create the perfect soldier is any day gasp-worthy vis-a-vis what Logan was originally put through), a long-lost daughter, Professor Xavier being gaga with fleeting moments of lucidity and horror of horrors- Logan turning into Old Man Logan.

Jackman’s make-up is flawless as a person who’s tried hard to stand the test of time and taken a beating every step of the way. With his angry old man demeanor, unkempt beard and displeased air throughout; he resembles a real wolverine in manner more than ever!

The violence is a bit OTT but it fits in well with the dystopian world the director wants to showcase. My interest in this particular franchise started waning from the first standalone Wolverine movie onwards. Nothing can bring back the kick-ass (literally) fun of Logan and Victor’s face-off with Wade on top of the nuclear reactor!

So while I was moderately entertained for a little over 2.5 hours, it’s finally curtains for Wolverine on the big screen and I really hope they don’t try to make reboots of this particular franchise with anyone else. Old man or not, Hugh Jackman IS Wolverine!

Movie Review: Tridev

After a looooooooooong time I turned the telly on last Sunday in a rush thinking I’d missed out on the Oscars and found Tridev was playing.

Released in 1989 and a blockbuster by the yardstick prevalent back in the day; the movie is a laugh and minute even during the scenes which are supposed to be very high on the emotional quotient.

Madhuri Dixit, Jackie Shroff, Sunny Deol, Amrish Puri, Anupam Kher and a plethora of other chamaktey sitaarey (shining stars) of the era come together to make a 2 hour plus movie which is replete with the all the symbols of the 80s; and therefore was a total trip down nostalgia alley for me.

These are the tropes in the movies of the 80s and early 90s that I remember vividly-

  • Minimum 3-4 outfit changes for the female lead in the course of a song.
  • Each outfit quite outlandish and fairly garish and gaudy.
  • Villains are OTT evil and had to have a trademark evil laughter. Said trademark had to occur with each evil soliloquy.
  • Women are props. Used to pretty up a scene or as lures to get the male lead to come and duke it out with the bad guy. Women also need to sing during their captivity.
  • The police always arrive after everything ends and essentially are clean-up crews.
  • The back-up dancers are drab-faced people who end up dancing either like they are on meth or are stoned and never vary from either of these two extremes.
  • There is *always* love at first sight.
  • Love is expressed via song. At Least twice. First time: Initial expression. Second time: Reiteration.
  • The fight sequence is totally of comic book proportions without the blurbs spelling out the KAPOWS.
  • Each time anyone gets hit, they fly through the air a la The Matrix and the resulting sound effect is LOUD!
  • There is no anti-hero: there is black or white.
  • There is a weird depiction of a jungle tribe replete with loin cloths, tiger-striped clothing and jungle drums.
  • The jungle tribe utters inane stuff like Jinga Lala Boom etc.
  • Party scenes are usually where everyone is standing still like statues and one person moving about tipsy and singing an alcohol-related song.
  • Patriotism is also OTT.
  • The level and diction of the spoken Hindi is far superior than that spoken these days.
  • The music is catchy and unashamedly borrowed (bits and pieces) from dance hits famous overseas.

Since the advance in special effects hadn’t happened to the extent it has nowadays, things looked made-up and really clichéd but still entertained in a way many movies of today don’t.

While I may have laughed at Sunny Deol’s “angst” at finding his dead father, Amrish Puri’s Bhujang-avatar or even Sangeeta Bijlani’s determination to find her dead brother’s killer by becoming a gangster’s moll; the fact remains is that those movies entertain!

Oye oye!

Image courtesy- madaboutmoviez.wordpress.com

 

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud…

Quoth good ole W.W aka William Wordsworth. And so did I…or my mind did instead. It happened at the gym where a lot of stuff has been happening of late. I have an active imagination. I can daydream with the best of them. In glorious HD 1080p. We have moved on from Technicolor!

Anyhow, the only time I focus on myself in toto is at the gym. And after a while I start to wander off. Always mentally. Physically I’ll be frog-stretching my way to aching thighs but mentally I’ll be thinking about the rap song lyrics calling forth the bitches and hos  to “get lit” and how inappropriate they are or when Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah played on the radio etc.

I’m serious. When I focus inwards, that focus goes deep and then goes right out of my head. We have mirrors spanning the walls on two sides of the gym. When you exercise in front of one of them, you see unending images of yourself in the mirror to the back and you become a 6-year-old in a fun house with funky mirrors instead of a soon-to-be 37-year-old who is supposed to be watching her posture, her balance and her breathing.

You assume a particular posture on one bended knee with the opposite hand over your head and your mind screams, “OLE!” and you think flamenco and giggle inwardly. And it’s all very silly and un-adult but that’s how some of our minds cope.

I remember once when Sia’s Cheap Thrills came on over the radio, I got so caught up in the song I did some extra stretches lasting almost half the song. Again, silly.

But it’s also fun and my mind is a fecund breeding ground for blogs and ideas and all with their very own templates, colors and often sound tracks. And that’s where I’ll draw the line now before someone carts me off to the madhouse in case these are hallucinations.

Snake, Rattle&Roll

By now everyone would have realized that I pun and desperately so. It’s almost my calling card in my blog posts. Titles especially.

So to jump to the topic, my kid is into Nature. Likes some parts of it even more and absolutely j’adores bits of it. And those bits are far-flung, disjointed and only he knows why certain things send him into raptures.

Our old printer was on its last legs, cartridge, carriage…you get the gist; so another one came and took its place. And Red being Mr.Technologically-Advanced wanted a wireless printer. So we got one. 

So now the situation is like this- MLM will pick up my phone after switching on the printer and making sure there are REAMS of paper in it, and simply command me-GIVE ME A PRINT OUT.
And his litany will begin-

  • Secretary Bird (no short necks only long-necked ones)
  • Gila Monster.
  • Komodo Dragon
  • King Cobra (proper one not cartoonish, cutesy snakes)
  • Alligators AND Crocodiles- because yeah, like he knows the difference between the two.
  • Leatherback turtle
  • Vampire Squid
  • Armadillos

And the list goes on. And as each page rolls out his eyes turn bright and he rubs his hands in glee and hisses in my ear, “Give me birdsss of prey Ayuuu.” I swear it’s like having your own personal Smeagol leering at its Precious! 

For those who glossed over that reference-watch LOTR ok? You can’t miss out on Smeagol and his Precioussss. Half the memes on the internet have to do with those two.

So after condors, peregrine falcons and vultures flew out of the printer and we called it a day, the hissing ceased and Gollum..I mean MLM went his merry way with his printouts.

A new day. A new pet peeve for me. Life is just full of opportunities!

Book Review: Closed Casket

I am an Agatha Christie aficionado. Rather an afficianado of the characters she has created. I haven’t read up much about her life per se but somehow I pictured her to be a bit like the wax statue of Miss Marple I’d seen in Madam Tussaud’s years ago.

The back cover of her books proved that she was neither that fluffy or was she that sweet-looking old lady of my imagination. But be as that may, I think an author’s legacy ought speak for itself in the books they’ve published rather than someone else hoisting a flag on their behalf; with books that haven’t sprung forth from the original grey matter.

With equal part reluctance and curiosity I bought a paperback of Closed Casket and I stuck to, reading till the end out of sheer stubbornness because truth be told, Sophie Hannah lost me somewhere in soon after the first 20-odd pages.

Agatha Christie’s prose is not torturous. You don’t have to be a connoisseur of the English language nor of the crime and mystery genre to get engrossed in her books. Hannah’s prose, the twists and turns were quite taxing and the kind of play or words done for ‘closed casket’ was worthy of a conceit of John Donne himself!

Her book has a darker feel to it than Christie’s typically do but with half the enjoyment that I’m accustomed to.

So I’ll stick to being a Christie purist and reread (for the nth time) my Poirot and Marple novels. They’re the real deal.