Sneha Jaiswal's Blog, page 289
July 16, 2020
Quit Playing Games
Won’t lie. The first video game I ever played as a kid should have been something a little more constructive, but it happened to be a gorefest named Mortal Kombat. In a computer parlour called Cliff’s Cyber Chhaas (perhaps this Cliff guy – bless his soul – thought he was too cool for the generic term ‘cyber cafe’ but couldn’t think of a good substitute drink other than buttermilk). It was the golden age of cafe gaming, where you could play for about half an hour for a measly sum of 10 bucks.
So Mortal Kombat was a rage back in the days. One of those titles where you had two fighters with names that sound badass to 14-year-olds facing each other. You control one, the system controls the other. But learning the long list of character moves was more like trying to memorize answers for a test, neither of which a schoolkid is particularly fond of. Or wants to be reminded of. So the best way to play, was to mash every functioning button on the keyboard, in the hopes that with some luck, you might be able to pull the opponent’s pixelated guts out before they pull yours.
My father, pious and always a man of values, stood behind me and watched his firstborn slice, skewer, burn up, and melt people with stomach acid for thirty minutes. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled; in fact, his face did seem like he was quite desperate for a basin. In his mind, he was probably going on about how he had committed a grave mistake by introducing his young, impressionable child to this satanic game and set him on one of at least ten different paths towards self-destruction. Given the look he had on his face throughout, I thought he’d be relieved when my time was up, but when I got off my chair, in a turn of events quite atypical for him, he decided he was going to allow me to play for another half hour. Because you’re a good boy and I feel generous, he said. Although I suspect this had nothing to do with generosity and everything to do with his parental instinct to ‘correct the course of fate’.
I remember him laying a hand on my shoulder and pointing to the two dozen or so game icons scattered on the screen. “Try something else, beta” he advised, without sounding too insistent, still reeling from the brutality he’d seen earlier. “There. That one sounds interesting” he added, directing my attention to an icon of a car, to a game titled Midtown Madness.
“Uncle, ye driving ka game hai, isko bahut acha lagega” the older boy sitting at the booth next to mine chimed in.
Perhaps the prospect of his son learning an essential life skill instead of a game about dismembering people was assurance enough for my morally wounded, redemption-seeking father, and so I launched Midtown Madness. The first thing I was required to do was pick from a list of boxy-looking vehicles. “Bus le le. Mast hai” the boy helped. Turns out, he was right about the game. But he’d only given us part of the truth. I took my bus through an apparently-lawless virtual city tour, free-roaming, driving over sidewalks and parks, knocking other vehicles out of the way and causing them to explode all over the streets in a merry, destructive spree. For the next half hour, whenever I had the chance to look behind at my father, all I saw was a man staring at the spectacle of his own defeat, tight-lipped, watching me commit every traffic violation possible and silently cursing himself for listening to the proverbial Snake of Eden sitting next to me.
And that was my first tryst with video games. Also my father’s. We had both walked out of the parlour enlightened, although his take on the subject was vastly different than mine.
I don’t suppose he was very excited either, when, many years later as a college student, I brought my first PC home. It didn’t stop him from paying for it, kind as he is, but he had hoped he could somehow talk me out of indulging in those ungodly games without being downright oppressive. Perhaps try to deflect me from walking one of those sinful paths he had imagined, even if a little.
“What’s the point in all that shooting and killing and rash driving?”, he would ask me as politely as possible after I wrapped up an extended gaming session. “Read the Bible. Watch National Geographic. Something without all that stupid violence.” Many times, I’ve almost wished I could tell him how neither the scripture nor nature was even remotely as non-violent as he believed it to be, but that would most likely upset the delicate ‘live and let live’ agreement we had for so long. And so, all I’d do is nod and say “Good point”, and that would keep him off my back for a couple of days.
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Over the years, as the games and my system upgraded, so did his reasons. Just like that sorceror character in one of my games, my dad had a wide assortment of spells to pick from, not to mention he had mastered the art of selecting them carefully according to the situation. I’d say his favourite was the classic Remuneration spell – Does it pay? Do you get money for wasting all that time just playing?. Flashy, but not quite effective. His second most loved incantation had to be the Consumption spell, which pretty much went along the lines of ‘your machine uses a lot of power, the bills are getting higher’. In the summers he would conjure up something along ‘that computer heats up the entire room’, often to mom, and often to great effect. But he always kept his distance, trying his little tricks with the utmost subtlety, afraid that he might snap my patience at any given moment and then I might snap his figurative magic wand in return. But that never happened.
Eventually, seeing how I wasn’t planning on giving up gaming anytime soon, he began taking up a chair next to me, or standing behind me, quietly watching. He would cringe every time I put a bullet through someone’s head, make a show of being disgusted when I chopped a monster into bloody juliennes fine enough to make Anthony Bourdain proud, or looked at me with disappointment if I plowed my car into a wall at 200 miles an hour. “Tsk. All those years of practice and you still can’t drive” he would often taunt.
I knew he kept getting less and less worried about my inclination for games as time passed. Perhaps even enjoyed watching it himself at times, although he never admitted to it and would not admit to this day. I guess it helped when he saw me grow up and learn to paint, fix computers, take up a job, and try to earn a decent living instead of turning into a murderous psychopath or one of those notorious Dhoom Boys (a local term for a young, reckless bike racer). Let’s just say there were too many of the bikers around, and the comparison mechanism that most Indian parents have as an inbuilt feature worked in my favour.
The half a dozen or more paths of self-destruction he had projected for me in his head were probably disappearing one by one, and with that, so were his strong negative opinions about my hobby.
Although every once in a while, he still randomly walks up to me in the middle of a slo-mo kill streak, rubs two fingers together, and goes “Money… Imagine the money you would have made if you’d spent all that time working” before strutting off like a hero walking away from an explosion. Well, let’s just say technically he’s not entirely wrong on that one.
He still stands behind me while I play, watching. Still cringes at headshots and car crashes. Still reels in disgust as I gouge eyeballs out in the newest edition of Mortal Kombat. Some things never change, and my father is nothing if not a bit stubborn. But he’s not the same terribly-concerned man from all those years ago.
I think he still believes he was the one to lead me down this slippery slope. Just like back then in Cliff’s buttermilk parlour. But unlike then, I guess now he’s a lot more sure about the way he’s raised his kid to care about it.
Note to readers – This is a guest post by Ashley Suvarna, you can find him on Instagram & Twitter. He also does book reviews at The Flitting Bookma rk.
July 15, 2020
Judging The Book Cover
How much does a book cover matter to you?
Well, it took me about five days to just brainstorm and illustrate different cover ideas for my second book. The picture I am attaching below is one of the first few doodles I scribbled while trying to figure out a cover concept for “Love, Loss, Lockdown”.
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After I was done with it, I thought to myself “Ugh, too juvenile and abstract”. Every concept had some flaw. And as a new independent writer with limited resources, there came a point when I was tempted to go for the “plain book look”. Just a simple template background with the title. But research clearly pointed at this – PEOPLE DO JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER.
I fall into the category of people that judge the book by its blurb. But if I see a free stock photo on a novel, it does make me think “okay, this author was lazy”. Maybe they weren’t. Maybe they were just too exhausted after writing the book to bother about the cover. But readers are not going to think that.
When I started asking for opinions, everybody had a different perspective on the cover ideas. Some loved it, some just didn’t dig it and each one had a completely different suggestion to give. It almost got frustrating at one point. You have to go with your gut feeling in the end. And make peace with the fact that – some are going to like it, some are not.
If you like reading general fiction, please get a copy of ‘Love, Loss, Lockdown’. Following are some links (both ebook version and paperback is available in these countries & is also available for kindle unlimited members) –
If I’ve missed your country, look for it on Amazon or on your kindle store.
July 14, 2020
Death & Darker Realms #18
‘He’s rotting away
An abandoned tree
That just won’t sway
And can’t be free
Slowly breathing
Like a sickly child
All memories fading
Not young or wild..”
These are the first few lines from poem number 18 in ‘Death & Darker Realms’. Like even the most beautiful flower finally rots away, so do we. Time ensures things change. But there are those, that never do.
For the full poem, you could get a copy of “Death & Darker Realms” on Amazon. Following are some country specific links –
If you are not into poetry, then maybe you could check out my debut fiction book “Love, Loss, Lockdown“, a collection of short stories set against the Covid19 pandemic. It’s free for Kindle Unlimited subscribers.
P.S – Let’s connect on Instagram. I would be happy to follow back fellow bloggers & writers.
July 13, 2020
Noblemen – Dark & Disturbing
Until Netflix suggested me the 2018 film ‘Noblemen’, I was blissfully unaware about its existence. Starring Ali Haji and Kunal Kapoor, this directorial debut by Vandana Kataria delves into the theme of bullying.
Shay (Haji Ali) is a sweet boy studying in an all boys’ boarding school and wants nothing but to star in a Shakespeare play for their annual day function, to make his mom proud. When he lands the coveted lead role, it invites the ire of a rich senior who was vying the same part. What follows is a dark, disturbing tale of how boarding schools breed dangerous delinquents, who would go to any lengths to torment their victims.
Kataria doesn’t shy away from exploring just how vile teen boys can be, if not kept under strict vigil. The transformation of Shay from a loving, demure boy to a scheming, vengeful teen is brought about brilliantly. The young Ali Haji is aptly cast & does justice to his role. Kunal Kapoor is convincing as the solicitous art teacher, always looking out for his students. All the other youngsters effortlessly slip into the skin of their characters too.
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There are a lot of clever allusions to Shakespeare’s ‘Merchant of Venice’ throughout the film. The mood is somber and the pace is almost perfect. There are times, when as a viewer you would get uncomfortable and furious at the unfolding events. And that sort of response is perhaps expected from the viewer since this is a tragic tale of how even the kindest of boys can transform into vicious men if they swim in a pool of muck for too long.
‘Noblemen’ is one of the very few Indian films that seriously explore just how problematic homophobia is. It also touches upon the themes of abusive families, teen suicides, substance abuse and toxic masculinity. There is a heart-wrenching scene in the film where Shay’s pet dies (the symbolism might be lost on some) and it also marks the demise of his own innocence.
The only problem I had while watching this film was the thought that it could be misinterpreted as glorifying bullying, although it doesn’t. Instead, I hope it forces people to rethink just what kind of values are being imparted to children when they are young.
Kataria’s film is a stark reminder of just how important schools are in the growth of an individual’s character. The bullies however get the end they deserve and the viewers get a clever dark climax. I would recommend it to anybody who would’t mind watching a modern, melancholic movie about evil little men.
July 12, 2020
Weddings and Lockdowns
It’s 11 pm in my part of the world and I am having a nice hot cup of tea. So comforting.
But here’s what happened today – two of my closest friends got married and the wedding ceremony started at 7.30 am. I can’t really remember the last time I woke up at 5.30 am in the morning to get ready, but I do remember when I slept at that time last – day before.
With Covid-19 crippling travel across the country, we don’t do short trips and treks anymore. Those are the only things I usually wake up early for – flights and hikes. I honestly just wanted to cry when my 5.30 am alarm started ringing, since we had partied till 2 am. Despite knowing fully well that all of us had to be ready by 7 am for the wedding. But hey, how can you not party the night with the bride and the groom?! Especially when the groom is my high-school friend and the bride is my college friend. Yes, I played ‘cupid’. And I haven’t been this happy for two people in a long time.
It’s the first wedding we were attending in ‘the times of Covid19’. And gosh, it had been a bit of a nightmare for the couple to plan everything. Because when they had decided on their wedding date, the covid cases in the city were pretty low. But just two weeks before the wedding, new rules were rolled in – due to spike in cases. One of the new rules was – a total lockdown every Sunday. Guess what – the wedding was on Sunday. First there was panic and then came all the planning. The couple had to rush to cops and local officials to figure out permissions and everything. With a generous dollop of stress on the sides.
Now that the wedding is done with, I am so glad they decided to go ahead with it and just be done. Because given the situation, it looks like things are only going to get worse. And that they would have had a tougher time if the wedding date was any later. Just yesterday night, the state government decided to impose a complete lockdown in the city from day-after, for nine days. Welcome to unexpected times! We got saved by a day!
July 10, 2020
Love, Loss, Lockdown
Reader reviews are slowly trickling in for ‘Love, Loss, Lockdown’, a collection of 10 short stories, loosely set against the Covid-19 pandemic.
Here are two from Amazon India.
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If you like reading general fiction, please get a copy. And if you get the book, do leave a rating/review, it means a lot to independent authors like me. Following are some links (both ebook version and paperback is available in these countries & is also available for kindle unlimited members) –
If I’ve missed your country, look for it on Amazon or on your kindle store.
July 9, 2020
Legend of The Muse – Review
Irish Poet W.B. Yeats is credited with popularising the Celtic mythical figure ‘Leannan Si’, a beautiful spirit who takes a human lover, usually an artist – painter, poet, musician or writers. And the affair only ends with the death of the mortal.
Director John Burr’s film ‘Legend of the Muse’ is a contemporary thriller inspired from this lore. The movie starts off with an intriguing murder in the woods. Riley Egan plays Adam, a struggling painter whose fortunes turn when he encounters a mysterious woman at the same spot. She eventually becomes his muse and lover.
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Actor Elle Evans who plays the titular ‘muse’ is the hero of this film; she has all the charms of a delicate looking but dangerous enchantress. Despite no dialogues she speaks through her eyes and demeanor. Max Decker, who has a minor negative role, is just right for his part, a bully of a neighbour who gets Adam to drive him to the woods for some deal, unwittingly leading them to the first chance encounter with the mysterious muse.
While most of the film takes place in Adam’s house, the cinematography is beautiful. Some of the set pieces look likes paintings themselves. Burr meticulously creates a clever juxtaposition of art and gore. Just when you are lulled by the serenity of a scene, there’s some slashing and dicing of human flesh. The background score helps in keeping up the tempo of the story and successfully creates a sense of dread in the viewer for most parts.
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The only weak link in this film is lead actor Riley Egan, the moment he opens his mouth, he kind of pulls down the momentum of the movie. It almost feels like he has some sort of a learning disability and if that is supposed to be a character trait then its fine. But otherwise his acting just doesn’t work. Somebody with a lot more confidence and charm would have uplifted this film to a whole different level. The rest of the support cast however does a pretty convincing job.
The paintings used in the film are gorgeous work of arts and not the usual random abstract stuff that’s beyond the comprehension of the average viewer. So brownie points for the art direction. With 1 hour 40 minutes to boot, the film however does falter with its thinly written side characters, especially ‘the other woman’ that makes Adam’s muse mad.
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A crucial chase sequence towards the end was quite hackneyed and unconvincing. Things begin to get a little predictable in the second half, making the viewer expect a clichéd climax. But then Burr throws up a nice little twist in the last few minutes and saves ‘Legend of the Muse’ from a messy conclusion, an affliction that plagues most horror/thriller films these days. The story is wrapped up neatly, with some of the puzzling bits from earlier scenes falling into place.
The Legend of The Muse premieres later this July on Amazon US. Shout-out to Tricoast for giving me access to the preview of the film.
Watch the trailer here –
Storytellers
My parents put me in a boarding school when I was seven. In a city which was at least 1500 kilometres from where they stayed. Where people spoke a language I didn’t understand. Mother had done a great job on convincing me about how it would be a ‘fun experience’ and bribed me with several new storybooks and a pair of roller skates.
“She didn’t even cry once,” she would beam proudly and tell people, every time she recalled the time they left me at that school. And quiet honestly, I did have an interesting time at the boarding school and the storybooks helped. And we had a library period thrice a week. I was thrilled! My older school did not have one.
When I look back now, that’s where my love for stories grew manifold. And not just stories told in books, but oral stories, of all those children around me, who loved to tell tales of their own. I remember how on the weekends, we would all sit together, and the older students would take turns to spin yarns. Horror stories were the toast of our little circle. Stories about how the school used to be a burial ground, or how our watchman was almost enticed and murdered by a demon-woman, or how the second floor of our hostel was haunted. (Nobody stayed on the second floor, there weren’t enough students.)
Soon enough, when we ran out of stories, we started making them up. And then, a year later, I changed schools. My parents took me back to the state they were in, enrolled me in a boarding school that was just three hours away. And gosh, how I despised that place. But books kept me going in the new boarding school. And somehow I managed to convince my parents to get me out of there. So a year later, I was in a new school again, where I finally found ‘my people’ and stayed on for the next six years.
So why am I talking about all this?
Well, an old school friend, who I haven’t spoken to in 14 years, got in touch and told me she was buying both my books. And she left me a really sweet message.
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Class 7 was when we were 12. Gosh, so long ago. I had almost forgotten about all the horror tales I used to make up. And all those memories came flooding back, when we used to finish our dinner quickly, and then huddle up under a dimly lit light and then I would tell them weird horror stories, all cooked up! Good old days.
Well, anyway, if you like reading general fiction, please get a copy of my second book ‘Love, Loss, Lockdown’. It’s a short story collection loosely set against the Covid19 pandemic in India.
And if you get the book, do leave a rating/review, it means a lot to independent authors like me. Following are some links –
If I’ve missed your country, look for it on Amazon or on your kindle store.
July 8, 2020
Heartstopper Is Love
I’ve had my eyes on the Graphic Novel series ‘Heartstopper’ by Alice Oseman for a while now. A twitter user & fellow Indie author recently tweeted about it and re-ignited my interest in the book.
“Charlie, a highly-strung, openly gay over-thinker, and Nick, a cheerful, soft-hearted rugby player, meet at a British all-boys grammar school. Friendship blooms quickly, but could there be something more…?” reads the blurb for the book.
When I finally began reading the series, there was just no stopping. It’s so cute, so breezy, that you keep turning page after page and suddenly realize you are done with all three volumes of the book.
‘ALLERGEN ALERT – TOO ADORABLE!
Love the pace, the friendship and how beautifully the relationship between the two leads evolve. Binge-read all three volumes. This book is the warm ball of sunshine you need on a rainy day.’ I posted on GoodReads after reading all of it.
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What I love about ‘Heartstopper’ is how simply the panels are drawn, and yet, they convey so much more. It’s almost like watching a film in motion. Olsen takes time to establish the friendship between the two boys, which makes their evolving relationship convincing and charming.
Olsen makes the story very inclusive, with very lovable characters who are out and proud. Sure, some of them seem too perfect, and maybe the story is idealistic. But we have enough toxic shit in comics, so ‘HeartStopper’ is a breath of fresh air. While there are allusions to dark pasts and serious problems, it’s largely a feel-good story.
These three volumes are the kind of books you want to read after curling up inside a blanket, with a cup of hot-chocolate, while it rains outside. It’s a bundle of sheer love.
July 7, 2020
B-Town’s Fault in our Stars
The much awaited trailer of the Bollywood film ‘Dil Bechara’ was finally out yesterday. It’s the official remake of the famous ‘Fault in Our Stars’ film. A few people on Quora had requested me to write my opinion on it, so I thought I will post it here too.
Starring Sushant Singh Rajput and newcomer Sanajana Sanghi, the trailer starts with her voice-over where she introduces herself.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but the background music made it hard to understand some of the dialogues. The volume mixing was a little off in parts. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, so I had to watch it again.
And what kind of a name is Kizie (the leading lady is called that)? But since they ask us to not wonder about it in the trailer, I’ll leave it at that.
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Honestly, I have nothing to say about it. It was pretty blah. Didn’t have any funny or witty bits. Was kind of cringe-y in parts. And Kizie who has cancer, wants to go to Paris, which was very random. And it’s kind of hard to feel bad about Indians who have cancer but can fly off to Paris on a whim, with their love interest in tow. I know a 23-year-old who was diagnosed with cancer, and the only place that person visited was Mumbai, from Bangalore.
Also, a little disclaimer here – I have seen the Hollywood version of the film, ‘The Fault in Our Stars’ and that was a pretty forgettable film. 5/10 types, not bad for a one time watch. The only thing I remembered from that film while watching this trailer was that the the girl really wanted to go visit Anne Frank’s house. And turns out, I didn’t even remember that detail right, because some people pointed out to me that she wanted to go to Amsterdam to meet a writer she really admires.
Back to ‘Dil Bechara’, I wonder why Kizie wants to go to Paris? Another thing that I didn’t understand was if Sushant Singh is supposed to be a college kid? In parts he does look like a college-goer, in parts, he looks a lot older. Also, there was pretty much no chemistry between the leads.
It was a pretty average, nothing too impressive kind of trailer.
