Love for Clay

I discovered claymation with Taare Zameen Par’s dazzling claymation titling. Enamoured by it, I wanted to study under the man who had made it - Dhimant Vyas. While that did not materialize, I decided to make myself a clay selfie. It wasn’t too bad except that I looked inflicted by some serious skin and bone disease.

In college, I took a clay snake on a trek to Tungareshwar.

More of Saamp here - http://on.fb.me/1gVCjVz

Recently, Anthony had taken up a commercial project – a bunch of claymation films to promote a VoiP brand. Forever interested in claymation, I turned up at the set just for fun. I watched them shoot, ate free food and played with the leftover clay. I got to see tools that professional clay modellers use – nothing fancy but highly functional.

Spending time pressing the soft dough and watching the clay figures become the Shahrukh Khan and Madhuri Dixit of Anthony’s film one still at a time inspired me to start playing with clay regularly.

I set up a page called ‘A Lump of Clay’ with a seemingly philosophical bio that reads – ‘The world is changing and so is this lump of clay’. Every day, the lump becomes something new.

I started with a dice and went on to do some more. Do tell me what you think. See the rest on the Facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/alumpofclay 

The Lump of Clay

                                      

Shakuni's best friend

Thinking of the grandfather of claymation - Pingu

About time we made our bones

Pheess

When you become old, your kids don’t talk to you much. Even your body stops listening to you.

Be nice to old people. 
They’ll appreciate it.

The Great Indian PM Shopping Festival came to an end today!

I got disappointment. What did you get?

Use this straw to have some thanda thanda paani -http://bit.ly/1qXNFMD

5 films to catch this coming weekend

The last few weekends have been bad for the Bollywood cinema-goer but the coming weekend is making up for it like a boss. I have a feeling both Saturday and Sunday are going to be movie marathons. Here are the 5 films I am looking forward to. I am being nice and sharing links to the trailers. I might go to Mira Road to watch most of them for cheap with Hakim (if he's free). Join us if you are game. This is going to be epic! 

1. Ajoba

Ajoba the leopard was rescued from a well and fitted with a tracking device before being released into the wild. The film covers his adventurous trek from Malshej to Mumbai in 29 days - an amazing 120 kms! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZNLbBP6Q0M

 2. Hawaa Hawaai

What looks like a rags to riches story might be one of the most beautiful children's films of all time. After the critically popular Stanley Ka Dabba, father-son duo Amole and Partho Gupte bring you the tale of a young boy who yearns to be a skater.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8WEqUvoJw4

 3. Kochada...something.

Frankly, I don't know what this is about but I am going to watch it for thalaiva and the awesome animation and SFX it is said to have.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86R7d7Ny4LA

 4. Mastram

The film is about a reluctant pornographic writer who aspires to be a litterateur, is inspired by the anonymous author of popular pulp fiction and sex stories in Hindi, only known as Mastram. These books sold at railway station stalls and small roadside and pavement shops in North India through the 1980s and 90s. Jaiswal who was the screenwriter for films likeGangs of Wasseypur (2012), makes his directorial debut with the film.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBBgv0N3Vck

 5. Manjunath - Idiot Tha Saala

This film is based on the story of a man with balls of steel or titanium or something equally strong. Shanmugam Manjunath (1978–2005) was a marketing manager (grade A officer) for the Indian Oil Corporation (IOC) who was murdered for sealing a corrupt petrol station in Lakhimpur Kheri, UP. This incident inspired several students at IIM, IIT and other institutes culminating with the IIM students setting up the "The Manjunath Shanmugam Trust".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nPY6O8XDv8

Happy Marathoning!

How to find your name on the voter’s list online

I just found myself on the voter’s list on the ElectionCommission’s website after a random Google search, not expecting to find anything. I ended up finding my ID Card number and the name of my polling station!

If your name already exists on the roll, here’s how you can find yourself on the list.

Step 1: Log on to http://eci.nic.in/

Step 2: Click on ‘Search Your Name In The Voters List’

(Enable pop-ups for this website. My Chrome decided to block it at the first attempt.)

Step 3: You will see a list of states on a page that reads Links to Electors Search on CEO Website. Click on your state. (This will lead you to the website of the Chief Electoral Officer of that state).

Step 4: If you are voting in Maharashtra like I am, you get a Language option – to search in English or to search in Marathi. You also get to search with your Id no. or your name. Once this is done, hit ‘GO’. (I searched in English and by name).

Step 5: Next, you get to customize your search according to ‘Assembly’ or ‘District’. Once you select the assembly/ district, enter your name, surname and father/husband’s name and then pray to find your name after you input the simple captcha code.

This is the toughest part. Expect your name to be horribly misspelt or jumbled. (I thought I was Hari Damodaran Chakyar. Apparently now I am Hari Damodharan Chakar. My mom used to be Girijadevi Damodaran. The website has made her Girijadevi Damodaran Nair. But that is still alright. My wife is a 28 year old male!).

If you do not find your name in the first attempt, try various combinations of your name. Also try changing the search customization options (If you searched by Assembly first, try searching by District next.) 

Nat Geo’s latest campaign is just hilarious!

National Geographic just launched a series of hilarious print ads. All five of them show animals like the grizzly bear, koala bear and a gorilla clicking selfies!

The line simply drives home the message: “There are lots of terrible animal pictures out there. National Geographic Collection. The best nature images are here.”

The ads are the handiwork of Heads Propaganda, Sao Paulo, Brazil.

Here are all of them (via: Ads of the World). Enjoy!

How to make an awesome scratch post for your cats and fail

What you need:

Cardboard/wood or any kind of base.

Rope/string – basically any kind of fibre you think your cats will want to attack (ours go nuts at everything that moves but they have a special bond with string.)

Fevicol or similarly strong adhesive.

Too much patience.

As with every craft project of mine, I sat on the idea way too long. But I finally pushed myself to go get the required materials and sat down to begin around 11 in the morning.

I had barely touched the cardboard tube with the string when it was decided that we’ll have to take the cats to the vet for a pending vaccination and to put a thermometer up their bum.

Back home and after lunch, I stuck the first few lengths of string alternating between the adhesive and the string. Around this time, I began to question my ambitious goal of covering the entire surface of the tube with string.

Two hours later, I was still at 40%. Remember the part about patience? I think I have too much of it for I continued to do this mind-numbingly monotonous job. The wife saved my life by playing some interesting music meanwhile.

Two more hours later, I had 20% of the adhesive left and had finished 200 gms of string – everything I had bought in the morning. The tube looks like a decent scratch post now.

But there’s one tiny little problem.

The cats won’t go anywhere near it. 

Moral of the story: The landlord is going to throw us out because our dear cats are going to continue with their scratch-practice on the sofas.

Cat pics and more

From never having pets before to fostering two kittens, we’ve both come a long way.

I think I’ve always been a cat person. There’s a picture of a 7-year-old me feeding milk to a cat in dad’s house in Kerala. I also have a stupid smile going with it. My wife converted after she saw me pet stray cats anywhere and everywhere. Now she can’t do without a day of cat love. Here are a few pictures of our kittens Exhibit A and Exhibit B over the last few days.

Exhibit A sleeps while B looks on.

After a game of cellotaped newspaper balls, I need to recharge my batteries

"What do you mean this is your sofa?"

"Oh, you are undressing. Well...wait, what's that?"

All you need is love.

And some sleep of course.

And some more.

and some more more.

"How can we sleep with your camera in our faces?"

Exhibit A: "Fuck this shit, I'm going home."

"Why haven't you sent me a friend request yet???"

Honeymoon self-timer adventure (NOT NSFW)

Honeymoon time and all she wanted to do was read. So I decided to entertain myself with the self-timer.

I played peeping tom

even tried to sprinkle her into action...

became Spaceman Spiff (The Mystery of the Missing Bractacles)

pillow-fought with myself

connected with my friends from Dufai

and then gave up and did my laundry. 

THE END

THE SINGING WELL

There was once a tiny radio.

The elders always called it transistor.

I don’t know why.

Its name was radio!

The radio was tiny but the sound it made was big.

So big, that if it was played in one end of the big house it was in, it could be heard at the other end!

The five sisters in the house loved the radio.

They would all sit together listening to songs while they helped their mother with her chores.

They would memorize the songs and sing along with it.

Sometimes, it would play even while they studied in the light that the kerosene lamps threw on their books.

The radio was their friend and companion.

There were books of course. And children’s magazines.

But if someone asked them who their best friend was, they would all say, RADIO!

There was no TV then. Or telephones.And no electricity.

But no one noticed because their radio was always there for them – to entertain them, to tell them stories from all over the world and to sing them to sleep.

One day after school, when they turned the radio on, it began to cough, stutter and stammer.

Father walked over to the radio and removed its batteries.

It had four huge batteries.

Father put in four new batteries and turned the radio on.

It groaned at first and then began to sing as usual.

“There. Your radio will never stop singing now,” he said.

The girls clapped their hands in glee.

One day, the girls put the radio on the wall of their favourite well.

Their house had three wells but this one was their favourite because they had seen it being dug and

there was a lot of room to run around near this well.

They were playing ball today.

Do you know what happened next?

That’s right.

While the girls were playing, the ball slipped out of a hand and fell on the ground.

But it did not stay there.

It bounced.

The girls looked at the ball with horror as it bounced towards the well.

And before they could stop it, the ball hit the radio and fell into the well.

Splash.

The radio moved and fell sideways into the well too.

SPLASH!

The five girls ran to the well but the radio was nowhere to be seen.

Sadly, they walked back to their big house and stayed indoors for the rest of the day.

That night, father saw them all sad.

They told him about the radio.

Father quietly stood up, opened the big door of the big house and stepped outside.

The girls followed him.

It was a starry night.

They saw their father’s shadow walking towards the well.

“Listen carefully,” father said.

The girls stared at the well and tried to listen.

They could only hear the tadpoles and the crickets.

Father looked at the youngest daughter and asked her to sing her favourite song, the one she had heard on the radio.

She started singing.

The other four sisters joined in.

Father only knew the first few lines but he hummed beautifully for the rest of the song.

Mother looked at them from the kitchen and smiled.

Years have gone by.

The four younger sisters have grown up and work as engineers.

The eldest sister however got the best job.

She became my mom.

And till date, she tells me the beautiful tale of the singing well. 

Instant photo, bees rupya

I have a theory. If you visit the Gateway of India on a Sunday or on a public holiday, you will easily appear in at least a thousand pictures. People click pictures on their phones, smartphones, tablets and cameras both compact and DSLRs. Among those using the DSLR cameras are the 300 odd photographers who'll give you a piece of your memory for twenty rupees a print.

When I last visited the Gateway, I was struck by a thought. These photographers click everyone. No one clicks these photographers. I tell this to M.K. Das, one of the many photographers. He laughs. Quickly, he finds someone to click us. 

With Mr. M.K. Das

I reached the Gateway today, armed with my Nikon Coolpix and a random set of questions, hardly a questionnaire. The objective was to catch these memory-makers in action, talk to them and know who they are.

It wasn't easy to get them talking, especially on a Sunday. Today is when the monument gets the maximum footfalls. A good day for business. I overheard two photographers discussing how there are more locals than tourists today. Not so good a business day then.

Das has been clicking tourists here since '88 when he was twenty. He roars with laughter when I tell him I was born in 1986. An average working day begins at 11 and ends with daylight at 8, the last few frames aided by the yellow beam on the heritage structure. 

With Mr. Tulsi Rai

I talk to Tulsi Rai who's been clicking at the Gateway for 15 years. Where's he from? He takes a bit to respond, Jharkhand. I made a mental note to avoid similar questions at the very beginning of the conversation. Both Mukes (M.K. Das) and I are from the same village in Jharkhand. I tell him about my photographer-clicking spree. He smiles and nods and gets another photographer to click us. Does he do only this? Rai works in a pub sometimes, clicking at their events. He gets a hundred rupees per photo there.

How did he end up here? There were relatives in Bombay. I used to come here with them whenever I visited. Then one day, I just stayed back, Rai says.

Ranjit, sipping tea from a plastic cup approaches me with the usual sales pitch. Bolo sir, instant photo, bees rupya. I tell him I want a picture with him. He shakes his head and says Mein sirf apne biwi ke saath photo khichaata hoon. It was my turn to laugh. I raised my hand for a hi-five but he had the cup in one hand and an umbrella in another. He gave me a fist bump with the umbrella hand.

Babu saw me trying to talk to him into posing for a picture. Ranjit ran. Babu and I chased him and got this one. Win win situation. I got this picture. He did not pose.

Chasing Ranjit

On a good day, Rai says he makes an average of Rs. 450. Paisa kamaane ka apna apna line dhoondhna padta hai. I agree with him. I wish I could find mine. I ask Das if he manages to make a living with this money. Chal jaata hai, he says.

Maqsood came to the city 4-5 months ago after passing his tenth. He has to send money back home in Karimganj, near Silchar in Assam.

Maqsood

He lightens up when I tell him I was in Guwahati and Silchar last year. He lost his father. His maternal uncles work on boats at the Gateway, he says. Is that how he got here? There are more maamas here, photographers. Idhar sab maama hai he says.

What do I do? Das wants to know. I tell him I am a jobless writer. He nods knowingly and says he knew I was ‘something like that’. Apparently my questions gave me away. So you make stories. I nod, somewhat glad that he put it that way.

Many photographers like Fulesh (from Bihar) and Ranjit refused to be photographed. I don't know whether to file that under 'You are afraid of what you don't understand' or ‘the ghosts of past experiences.’

I'm glad some of these people spoke to me. I wish I could ask them more questions. They were busy and I was growing tired of walking in the rain. After spending around three hours clicking and talking with my flashy friends at the Gateway, I left for a late lunch.

P.S: Both Both Das and Rai refused to accept money. They said this is the first time someone thought of clicking them. Isko aap gipht samjho.

Some more clicks from today:

The poor man's bubble bath.

Their equivalent of a 'water-cooler' chat.

Families taking pains to convince their baby to look into the camera and smile.

This is how photographers have fun in their mundane job: Make tourists do stupid poses.

This is how photographers have fun in their mundane job: Make tourists do stupid poses.

Sometimes, they pose too.

The printer that has made 'photography' easy. Apparently, people who used to do 'monkey-business' have now become photographers.

The Grand Taj.

The End.