Shagird is an usual hotchpotch of the nexus between police, politician and gangsters where one feeds on the other, befriends and betrays at the blink of an eye and the line between good and bad, right and wrong and even the antagonist and protagonist keep blurring all the time. Although, the context, texture, language of the film has been used many times in films such as Ab Tak Chhappan, the USP of the film is once again Nana Pathekar and the sharp twists and turns in the plot give the movie a pace which is quite edge-of-the-seat.

It is a tale of two cops -- one experienced and the other a newbie -- and their manipulation of the system to outdo one another for different reasons. The story is scripted in such a way that after a point of time it becomes difficult to understand who is exploiting whom. Though police officers accepting bribes and working for politicians have been done to death in bollywood and hollywood alike, the film scores in the way it shows how the system is at times mutual and also the other way round. The first half ends on a interesting twist but the second half somehow fails to raise to the suspense created by the first half.

Nana as Hanumant Singh is the soul of the film but Mohit Alawat as Mohit is not quite up for the role. At no point of time, it seemed that the new cop will be able to outwit his senior pro and also the reason behind his turning rogue is quite weak. Anurag Kashyap is just okay while the rest of the crew chips in well.

All in all, Shagird is a fast-paced thriller which will keep the audience hooked but not awe-inspiring. So, it is definitely worth a watch but not a must-watch.

I imagine Paradise as a library of cinema

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“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.” -- said Jorge Luis Borges once. He must have imagined it to be a book library but for someone like me, I have always imagined it to be a room full of racks loaded with cinema and music. I wonder if paradise will have walls, if it does then a high-definition LCD screen supported by a high-decibel sound system won't be a bad idea, of course needless to say about the couch.

But then I wonder, paradise must be a peaceful place where someone, perhaps some guards or doorkeeper would insist on maintaining silence,like my school teachers who would shout at the top of their voice: "Pin drop silence". Although in school, we never bothered to listen to the teachers, paradise perhaps would have stricter rules. so I might need a good piece of earphones, wireless would be better. If this really is what paradise looks like, I would have no qualms of leaving now for the sojourn.

But then again I wonder that people say one has to earn his or her right to be in paradise. It is something sort of an elite community, where getting membership is too tough and a lesser mortal like me, who
have never been a part of any elite group ever, sneaking in could be a bit difficult.

But then, paradise must be having different set of rules and criteria such as weighing one's sins and vices against one's virtues and good deeds. I mean, at least that's what my grand parents and then my parents used to say and even the 'Sadus' and 'sants' propagate that at the jagrans and TV channels. But looking at the current state of things in our world, I wonder if paradise too have made some concessions, I mean making the rules a little flexible. Also if the concept of 'jugaad' is acceptable in paradise.

Well, there is no limit of imagination, no sky can bind the flight of imagination and so many such things keep visiting my brain from time to time at the dead of the night. After grappling for sometime with this
thought of paradise, I give up and settle for a better idea: Lets make that paradise here on earth. And thus starts another day of slogging to keep that idea alive.

Bring on the Aussies!!!!!!

Sparks will fly and daggers would be out of the closet as rivals India and Australia lock horns once again in a World Cup match. Ghosts of the past that marked so many clashes between the two competitive teams will threaten to be out of the can once again.

 Of course, we don't have Andrew Symonds, one of the characters of the infamous Monkey-Gate episode but we still have Harbhajan Singh, the protagonist. Moreover, Ricky Ponting too is not in the right frame of mind these days.


To say the least, Punter is struggling to save his captaincy and reignite his form, not to mention his anger which boiled over a TV set. Thank God it was a TV not Steve Smith.


Well, I feel pity for the man, I mean how else can you keep your cool when the whole world is conspiring against you.

First you become the only Australian skipper to lose three Ashes urn and then Pakistan comes out of nothing and breaks your World Cup streak.


Media is also going gaga about formidable India and portraying a struggling picture of Australia. Ponting must be thinking 'Why don't these Indians go and watch the footage of the 2003 finals. It was me who spoilt there dream with my bat.'


And then rather philosophically must be wondering: How I wish I had the same bat with me today?


Well, Mr Ponting keep dreaming and we wish your bad patch continues at least for another match as we Indians make merry.


P.S. Everything is fare in love and war and we are surely not in love, at least not on the field

The first installment of 'Three colours -- Blue', directed by Polish director Krzysztof Kieślowski is a film about pain, loss and its eventual freedom from human emotions. It is a poignant tale of a wife and her struggle to come in terms with the loss of her composer husband and daughter, who dies in a car accident. 

The film unfolds in an almost poetic pace, which is slow but doesn't put off the audience. The elements of 'blue' keeps reoccurring in various ways from attires, paints of the wall, a chandelier, swimming pool and even chocolate. 

The subtle performance of the protagonist, the ethos and pathos of the character perhaps could not have been better performed than done by Juliette Binoche. The film is completely carried forward by her and is her emotional journey after the death of her family. Her attempt to give up everything and live a lonely life, which eventually ends up in releasing her from all emotional bindings is an enticing tale which is very real and close to heart for many. 

Add to this the background score and one gets a beautiful rendition of the colour blue through the montage of shots, some of which are simply exotic. Overall it is a wonderful watch.  

Kashyap leads India's resurgence in men's singles

There was a time when India was a force to reckon with in men's singles in badminton. It was a time when Prakash Padukone and Syed Modi, the stalwarts who put India in the badminton map, used to play.

But I unfortunately don't belong to a generation that was fortunate to see Padukone or Modi play. Padukone won the Commonwealth Games gold in 1978, becoming the first Indian to do so. He won the All England in 1980, a year before my birth and by the time I was 10 years old, he had already bade good bye to the game.

Even Modi, the last men shuttler to win a gold in the CWG, achieved the feat in Brisbane in 1982, a year after my entry to the world.

Ofcourse, there was Pullela Gopichand making inroads in World badminton but I admit I was not aware of his exploits till I joined the journalism field. Blame it on my poor GK or lack of inclination to read newspapers. TV was not an option then as it is only recently that TV has started reporting the achievements of any sport beside cricket.

But after Gopichand, there has been a lull. It is not that we don't have talented shuttlers. We have a pool of them, we have around 10-15 players in the top 100. Shuttlers such as Anup Sridhar, Arvind Bhatt and Chetan Anand have defeated many top players and made their presence felt in the world. But still in CWG 2010 we didn't have a serious contender for the gold.

And so when P Kashyap scripted some sizzling performance beating higher-ranked Rajiv Ouseph of England twice (yes, I still consider the semifinal a win for Kashyap coz it was a clear wrong decision that spoilt his silver) and the stylish Mohammad Hafiz of Malaysia, he had just given that hope to Indians that perhaps the resurgence of men's singles is round the corner.

Kashyap had to settle for a bronze where he deserved a silver atleast. If he were in final with Lee Chong Wei, he nevertheless would have competitive if not more. When Kashyap played him in the team event he looked much more at ease than Ouseph (who played him in the finals of individual event).

In the Denmark open, Kashyap again created a stunning victory over Thai Boonsak Ponsana, who has victories against Lin Dan, Lee Chong Wei, Chen Jin and Peter Gade to his name.

The Indian may have lost in the quarter against a chinese but that doesn't demean his stunning victory in any way. It means only one thing, time for India to regain its pride and place in men's singles is very near. The dawn is near, the resurgence nearer and we wish Kashyap shines in the days to come.

"Shine like a crazy diamond" as Pink Floyd would have put it.

Life of a journo in the times of CWG

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Surely it is not easy being a journalist in the times of Commonwealth Games. If you are a electronic journo then you will have to warm your seat at the main press center (MPC) because your cameras are barred from entering the venues. So all you can do is operate from the MPC and make reports taking the low-quality videos footages from Doordarsan, of course you have to keep the public entertained.

But if you are a print journalist, you can't have the luxury of seating at the MPC. Everyday you will have to walk miles just to enter the MPC and then hang like a hanger around the shuttle service which takes you inside, needless to say through a bumpy road, of course that too if you are lucky. Otherwise, you will have to again depend on your legs and bear the scorching sun till you reach the MPC.

However, your ordeal is not over. It is just the beginning. You have to go through the numerous check points where they will frisk till it doesn't border in the lines of manhandling and if you bump against a foul policeman, he might throw the stuffs which are not allowed, which ranges from cigarrates, matchbox, coins to as important a thing as a water bottle, rather rudely with a glare as if he has just nabbed a terrorist.

If you are a cameraman then things are worse as you have to open everything perceivable and lay them bare infront of them and that too after your bag has already gone through the checking system. After you complete all formalities, you would enter the MPC, a swanky work place where there are 100s of computers and an efficient bunch of young volunteers who will be very eagar to help you.

There is another thing. While all these time you were sweating like a dog under the sun, now you will suddenly enter the antarctic zone where you will shiver till your blood turns into ice crystals. Inside you have coffee, tea and britania biscuits -- all free of cost to keep you warm. There are sandwitches and pasteries which you can buy but if you want a meal in the afternoon, you will have to burn holes in your pocket and even after that the food might not be satisfactory. Also you might have a dog for company inside the foodcourt, which is outside the MPC.

But that's ok because jounalists don't have the luxury of staying inside the MPC for too long. So you too set off for the day to cover an event. You walk to the bus stand where you might end up waiting for hours if you are unlucky to get to the correct bus which takes you to the venue. Of course, if you can get into one of these buses things are cool, quite literally for it is an AC bus, which will run in Games lanes.

While you will have a chilly time inside the bus, which have tainted panes, the driver, although on the games lanes, will still have plenty of difficulty in maneovouring the vehicle, thanks to the Delhities who don't mind spilling over the lane every now and then , leaving the driver with no other option but to honk the horn all through out.

Once you reach the venue, you have to show your accreditation cards and have to go through the checking drill many times till you enter the venue. Now that was for those who can manage the bus.

But, suppose, if you are coming from your home straight to the venue, soon you will be transformed into a pedestrian journalist since even if you have a car or motorcycle, you can't take it inside so you will again have to depend on your legs and it is in such times that the music begins.

In many venues, the policemen also don't have a clue what is the route for the media. They perhaps not even given a lecture about how to read the passes. You will keep shuttling from one gate to the other as whosoever you ask, he will either ask you to go to the next gate or will bring out his guidebook to see if you should be allowed to enter through that gate as you burn under the sun at times.

There are Gates where you can travel in a vehicle but can't walk though them. The first day I went to the Siri Fort complex, My friend cameraman was stopped at the gates and told that he can't carry his cameras inside. After a lot of phone calls and after walking a mile, the volunteers helped us to enter the venue. But once we were inside, the cameraman was told you can't take pictures as it is not allowed.

Even though there is Doordarsan and BBC radio recording bytes of the players, if you want to record an interview in your cellphone, you would be stopped.

All these little things point fingeres to the inefficiency that plagues the working of the organisers. It is a classic example of too many cooks spoil the broth as here right hand doesnt know what left hand is doing. There is a huge communications gap among the various teams, who are engaged in organising the event. But that's ok because we are Indians and as the Sport Minister M S Gill once said in India, everything happens like an Indian marriage. Sir you couldn't have been more right!

Do we understand the enormity of Commonwealth Games?

For a country starved of any achievements in multi-sports events, the commonwealth games is the biggest opportunity for India to inspire a billion people to take up sports and make india a sporting nation but a look at the stadiums at the various venues and one can't help feeling disappointed. It is the second day of the mega-event but there is hardly any crowd at the stadiums. It puts a question in my mind: Do we Indians understand the enormity of Commonwealth Games?

Well, perhaps not. It may is the biggest sporting extravaganza that the country has ever hosted, being only the second multi-sport event after the 1951 and 1982 Asian games but that hardly seems to excite the Indians, if the lack of crowd is any indications.

For someone who was born and brought up in a far-flung small town called 'Silchar' in South Assam, CWG is nothing short of a dream. A dream to see the greats of the game live in front my eyes. people whom you have seen on TV, athletes about whom you always read on newspapers, an opportunity to see them with your naked eyes gives me goose bumps.

I am stationed at the Siri fort stadium where the badminton mixed team event is going on in full swing. India is playing a lowly Barbados but that should not matter because it is Saina Newal, the current world number three, who is playing here. Someone who had put India at the world badminton map. The Chinese, the Indonesians envy her because she is one who has threatened to break their strangehold in the game. The English, the Australians, they look up to her with wide open eyes as she jumps in the air and plays a cross-smash, they hardly can hide their amazement when she plays a deceiving drops but for Indians perhaps it is not that exciting.

The Whole stadium, which has a capacity of around 4500, is occupied by a handful of around 50 people, the rest of the crowd are the volunteers who have been employed for a smooth organisation of the event. These small crowd does all the cheering for Saina. These are the ones who took the pain to get up in the morning and come to the stadiums just for the love of sport. Does it disappoint the sportspersons? Well it does. While speaking to Saina when I ask her about the lack of crowd, she breaks up into a smile. "Well, may be it is too early, so people are not coming in the morning session. I am sure they will start pouring in as the day progresses," she says with her infectious smile.

Well, they do start filing in but still it is not enough to fill up those vacuums in the stands. Perhaps, even the atheltes have started excepting the fact that perhaps we don't understand the enormity of the Commonwealth Games.