The Dirty Picture: Wink, wink, no think...

In Dirty Picture, Silk (Vidya Balan) says to "serious" film director Abraham (Emraan Hashmi), "Only 3 things make a hit -- entertainment, entertainment & entertainment."

Abraham is pissed off at this "vulgur", "commercial" truth, but eventually succumbs to the same formula to attain personal success.

So does Milan Luthria, Director of "The Dirty Picture" (TDP)

Actually, the Director shares equal credit with the screenplay and dialogue writer (Rajat Aroraa). Together (and likely with producer Ekta Kapoor's involvement), they must have decided that they would place 'entertainment', in the strict sense of 'sell- tickets-through-sure-fire shortcuts' , above everything else in the film.

The film is full of what are called 'punch' dialogues is the south. Every second character is a wit, spouting pithy profundities every few minutes. No harm per se, and probably perfectly fine in an all out, comic book style "Dabang", but in TDP, you are never allowed to form an emotional connect with any character, especially the protagonist, Silk. That should have been at least one of the objectives of the film, no?

The film is supposed to be based on the life of Silk Smitha, a iconic sex siren of south Indian cinema in the 80s. A self-proclaimed "bad actress", she rose from anonymity to dizzy heights in her 17-year career, before dying under mysterious circumstances. There was a time when it was said that films that lay in cans for years could finally "find release" through the mere addition of a 'Silk Song' to it ! She was a much loved, much maligned figure in an otherwise sexually repressed, male-dominated society.

In TDP, there is a attempt to capture these aspects of her tempestuous life, but every time you feel like you're getting to a real emotion, a close-up that will leave an impact on your heart and mind, the film winks and whistles instead! Just when a scene is about to touch you, when you begin to empathise with a character, the writer quickly resorts to a punch dialogue to tickle you instead.

So the youngsters in the audience hoot pretty much through the film.

Its not just the occasional "pichkari" that is "faulty" (defective hose) that gets cheers and whistles, but much like the very B Grade films that TDP attempts to hold a mirror to, every second line is bawdy innuendo or a profound one-liner or usually both.That is my overarching feeling from watching the film. It's commercially clever, too clever for its own good.

Ok, what's the good stuff? Just Vidya Balan. She can clearly act and does as much justice as I suspect, any top actresses could have.

I do, however, personally hold that she lacks the on-screen vulnerability of an "ingenue", which I believe the real life Silk Smitha was. Even if we tell ourselves that TDP is only "inspired" from real life, I believe that the film is poorer for not having picked up on that aspect of the real Silk --- this seemingly incongruous combination of oozing sexuality and naivete.

There are scenes that try to build some innocence into Vidya's character, but again, the scenes are quickly hijacked by punch writing.

On a further personal note, I believe that without the half-closed "bedroom eyes" that the original Silk was famous for, its just not cricket :-) Mahie Gill would have been, in my opinion, much better cast in the role, for her eyes, her height and her ability to portray edgy, sexy, naivete on screen (those in doubt, please watch Sahib, Biwi aur Gangster)

I do not believe Naseer saab has done justice to the role of the aging Tamil Super Star. It's a 'outside-in' portrayal, a north-Indian's perception of what people on the other side of the Vindhyas are...not as shallow as Shahrukh Khan and his ilk going "ai..yai..yo" every minute they portray a 'Madrasi" on screen, but not as deep as one would have expected from an actor of Shah's calibre. I suppose even he can only do so much, all on his own.

Tusshar Kapoor should either stick to just his dumb-mute role in the Golmaal series or work in films like Shor in the City, where there is some character development and nuance embedded in the script and direction (He's surprisingly good in that film). In a film like TDP, where he is expected to deliver the goods on his own, he fails miserably.

I could go on, but you get the idea of my opinion as a ticket buyer.

One film critic has called TDP a "seminal work that will be studied in feminist discourses." Really?!

On second thought, I suppose it could at least serve that purpose. As a pure film, it promises much and delivers little.

V are like this only?

What's the object in this picture?

It's a porcelain cover of a toilet cistern, turned upside down and put to a more colourful use. Why would somebody do that? Well, it might have developed a crack or more likely, something happened to the rest of the pot and the middle class Indian owner, instead of throwing the cover away along with the rest, decided to grow a bed of table roses in it!

While this may be a little extreme, it's not too far from the middle-class mentality I grew up with. I still find it hard to shake off.

Those of you who grew up in middle India and are now at least in their 30s and 40s are likely identify with this 'condition' in yourself. Younger readers from the same economic strata are likely to know this as the embarrassing disease their parents suffer from :-)

It makes you hold on to metal biscuit tins and empty mineral water bottles long after their original contents are gone. It makes you retain nice paper bags that gifts come in, so you can pass it on when its your turn to gift stuff. In severe cases, the person may even make save gift wrapping paper, placing it between the bed and the mattress, to iron out the creases before re-use :-)

I've chosen to focus on just one symptom, but it is really more of a 'broad spectrum' thrift condition. I list a few more symptoms, this time in the 'clothing' category, for your entertainment...

1. Wearing clothes meant for "outside" at home, long after they've faded many shades, making them unfit for "outside" use (...resulting in fewer robbery attempts in your home, since you look impoverished all the time)

2. When the clothes in symptom 1 above are so ragged that even you can't wear them anymore, you annoit them 'wet mopping' cloths (that's just the humble 'pocha') and put them to work again...

3. Buying "outside" clothes only twice a year, at the annual "summer" and "winter" end-of-season branded sales (...thus ending up with sweaters in February, to be worn next December soonest)

4. Parking in a street where the parking fee is a flat Rs.10/-, when you actually need to go to the mall at least a block away, which charges Rs.60/- for 'the first 2 hours and Rs.20/- for every subsequent hour' (unless of course, you can get Shopper's Stop or Pantaloon in the Mall to waive off your parking fee since you're at their annual sale mentioned in symptom 3 above !)

....

If any of this rings a bell, please do add to the list (i'm sure we could hit at least 25 if not more, there are so many 'sectors' - travel, eating out, etc...)

If you'd rather send in a picture that does the job simply, please mail it to neelimachli @gmail.com...I promise to post it with this entry.

And what do you think of the 'condition'? Is it a mere hangover from a poorer time, something middle Indians would do well to leave behind or is it a trait worth retaining in today's consumerist world? Does you current economic status have anything to do with it?

I wait for your thoughts, smack in the Middle of it all. Cheers!

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara...

Non-spoiler alert: This review does not give away film story or plot.

Verdict: ZNMD is a very competent film in its genre, never lagging and with some good cinematic moments. Worth a watch.

Like: Cinematorgraphy, locations, screenplay, direction, Farhan Akhtar

Don't like: Hrithik Roshan, 'flattish' emotional graph of film

One review I read on the day of the film's release said "Indian road movies have come of age". I agree, Zoya has hit the bullseye on the 'road movie' format. But I feel she hasn't gone the distance.

Traditionally, road movies involve a group of people, usually friends, going on a trip that 'inadvertently' brings them face to face with some aspect of themselves that they need to confront. By the end of the journey, the characters have learnt something, changed in a seminal way and are pretty much re-born. It's a metaphor for life's journey.

Director Zoya Akhtar does all of this with her characters, and it's well worth watching, but in the end, it falls just a little short because the transformation seems a little too easy. Here's why.

+ves: The screenplay is done quite well, with no scene really making you wish you'd spent your money somewhere else. This is the hallmark of a good formula film; you know what to expect and yet, it does not bore you :-) Spain looks phenomenal, thanks both to its azure beauty and the fab cinematography.

Farhan Akhtar simply crackles and snaps on screen, bringing new life to what could have easily been a trite, overdone 'funny-guy-with-surprising-depth' role. He body language is open, relaxed and he seems to be living the film. Katrina is a pleasant surprise package, and if she could've been just a little less self-conscious, she'd have been brilliant. Abhay is competent, but is playing within his known 'large-guy-who-speaks-softly' safety zone from other films.

-ves: The film's emotional graph, while it does the standard up-down-up-down of a good film, is restricted in its range. There are no real highs or lows. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that the film, insomuch as it is informed by the sensibility of its director, may well reflect the absence of too much existential angst in her life.

There are great cinematic moments, when the child-like physical experience of living vicariously through cinema can be felt strongly. For instance, when the guys are about to dive off a plane and your heart thumps as loudly as Farhan's does on screen, its the old unadulterated magic of cinema at work.

Where I felt a little let down was with the rather easy core transformation of the characters. It seemed like nothing inside them considered dark enough or serious enough to come in the way of the 'fun trip' theme of the film.

I reserve my strongest negative mention for Hrithik Roshan, who is sadly becoming a caricature of himself. Even though he's supposed to have 'discovered how to live every moment fully' in the film, courtesy Katrina, he continues to hold himself back on screen, physically and otherwise, probably scared to mar his own greek god perfection by simply letting go.

All in all, Director Zoya has done a good job with ZNMD. Worth a watch.

Stanley Ka Dabba: Light Tiffin...

While this review does not contain any plot spoilers, some of the reader comments might...be warned to read the comments only after you've seen the film :-)

Stanley Ka Dabba (SKD) was shot in a series of five hour-long workshops that Director Amol Gupte conducted with children at a school in Chakala, Mumbai. The workshops were done during weekends and vacations, over a period of a year and a half. The camera used was a very small DSLR camera (see picture) and crew size and budgets were as small.

Why am I sharing these technical and production details up top when all I really care about usually is how a film makes me feel?

Because I believe these factors must have contributed hugely to what I liked about the film: the performance of the kids.

Small, unobtrusive cameras must have, no doubt, helped the kids get comfortable with the film crew over a period of 18 months (quite long in kid years :-) And then, as short story writer O'Henry once put it, "...once they (children) let you into their world, you only have to gather the pearls, silently..."

Almost all of the magic of the film comes from this quarter, from the way the kids react naturally to the situations the director presents to them (to his credit, of course), his little camera whirring all the while.

The kids are all delightful, especially Stanley (played by Partho, Director Amol's son). Amol Gupte himself puts in a good effort as Varma ji, the school's Hindi teacher and Stanley's arch rival for most of the film. Divya Dutta makes an impression too, as Miss Rosy, the English Teacher.

The film revolves around the camaraderie of lunchtime in a boy's school and the fact that Stanley never brings a lunchbox, a 'dabba'. His nemisis is Varma ji, who wants to mooch from every dabba in school. I can't say anything more about the storyline, given how thin it is, or I risk spoiling the viewing for you :-)

Which brings me to what I don't like about the film; first, the lack of a clear story. Even an 'innocent tale' needs the 'tale' as much as it does the innocence. This is the weakest part of SKD. Why Varma ji is the thieving magpie he is, is unclear; a huge gaping hole that is not easy to fill and the director does not even try.

Second, the kids in the film, as believable as their acting is, seem too good to be true. Let me explain.

We're shown an all-boys school and those of us who have been, even briefly, in convent schools like 'Holy Family' in the film, know that little boys are hardly sugar and spice and everything nice. The rough and tumble of one-upmanship, cruel humour and silly pranks are all part of the daily survival drill in these places.

And yet, the toughest situation that little Stanley has to face with a peer in school is a little skirmish with his bench mate over who owns which "half of the desk", which sweet 'Rosy Miss' neatly resolves with a "exchange your seats, babies (sic)" routine.

I believe every director projects a world view with each film; his/her perspective on the subject at hand, the 'emotional signature' of that particular creation.

Amol's signature in SKD seems to be that all kids are innocent and good natured, and most adults are at least the latter. It's not a bad view to project, especially in a film that looks at the world through the eyes of a never-say-die, ever-positive kid.

In projecting this take on the world, however, I feel that he has over-sanitized the real world of little boys; there are many, many forces, both nice and not-so-nice that shape the complex mindscape of a boy's daily life, especially when it comes to his peers. This contributes to the richness of his experience, his own world-view, the kinds of relationships he will strike up with adults, etc. Stanley only gets uni-dimensional 'nice' from his friends, stunting his on-screen growth.

Many grown-ups leaving the movie hall seemed to primarily take back the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes from watching innocence. Add the wistful nostalgia that most adults feel for their school days and Amol's got the adults exactly where he wants them, by the time the lights come back on.

The kids however, may well be another story. As we filed out from the screening, one sniffling mom, concerned that her young daughter must also need a good nose wiping, asked her little one, "Did you cry a lot beta?" to which the girl quipped "No...there was nothing to cry about."

It was a nice, sweet film, touching in many parts, but considering the flaws that marred it for me, I agree with the little girl.

Aah Himalaya...

Paul Brunton, the seeker-saint who found his peace with Ramana Maharishi, once famously remarked about the Himalayas, "The Hindus carry this admiration for a mountain even farther than we Europeans and Americans do--they revere it. Gods live on or within it in non-physical bodies; yogis find it the proper place for their meditations; it is indeed holy territory."

Balad, at over 6500 feet, may not be perched at the height of some of the lofty places where Brunton felt his "Overself" speak to him, but it does offer a view of the Himalayas that hushes you into reverential silence.

If you take the time to walk slowly among the Kuamaon pine forests, growing tall and sure, at seemingly precarious angles on the sloping hills, you might hear, somewhere between lilting swallows and burbling brooks, the whisper of your own Overself.

I spent the last weekend with friends at a place aptly named "Aah Himalayas" (AH, see pic below and you'll know why :-)

If location is everything, Aah Himalaya is It.

(View from Verandah of AH on a clear day, pic courtesy Sai Krishna)

AH has everything one could ask for in the hills - from round-the-clock running hot water to staff who aim to please (within limits, of course). We had kerala appam and stew for breakfast one morning, watching the Himalayas, with MS's trademark Suprabhatam rounding off the awesome south-north-south, taste-sight-sound mix :-)

It's a private home, but Noida-based owners Aparna and Sai Krishna Rajagopal do rent it out to small groups for home stays. You can check out the basic info on AH here.

You can also get in touch with Aparna at rajagopalaparna@gmail.com

I'm not going to get into all the nitty-gritties of how to get there, what it will cost, etc. in this entry, but here's a link to a newspaper article that is quite comprehensive on all these counts. (before you rush to pack your bags, however, you may want to check latest train timings and current tariffs with the owners.) (Pic: AH after a fresh shower, photo courtesy Sai Krishna)

That out of the way, let me share some of my experiences and musings from my weekend in Balad:

Running in the hills is exhilirating; the first few hundred meters uphill leaves you winded, , but once you settle into your rhythm, its the views that take your breath away; mountainsides covered in amazing shades of green, tree tops at the same height as your feet pounding the road, rolling clouds creating fresh skyscapes every few minutes and other such delightful sights.

I've run in Balad before, training for a middle distance run in Leh, a couple of years back. What made this time special was my running partner, Ajay. (smacking his lips in the picture below :-) Again, the hills seem to have an penchant for apt nomenclature and Ajay, blissfully unaware of the uniqueness of canine name, lives up to it in full measure.

His face bear's witness to the gruesome run in he had with some langurs a couple of years back. Thought unlikely to survive the mauling, with much of the right side of his face hanging out, one eye nearly out of its socket, animal lover Aparna recalls the grim sight. "We got his wounds cleaned and dressed up, but never thought he'd make it," she says. But with grit befitting "Ajay", "He who cannot be conquered" returned the brink of death beating the maggot infestation odds. Now he accompanies guests at AH on their foot sojourns into the mountains, graciously accepting a pat and a snack upon return to base.

Himalayan birds, like much of the flora and fauna here, come in an astonishing variety. From many kinds of swallows to jet black drongos to sparrows and grouse, the Kumaon hills are home to a wide palette of feathered beauties.

Salim Ali's tome on Himalayan birds (available to browse in the well stocked AH library) offers a peek into the hidden lives of these ariel minstrels. The swift and graceful Barn Swallows, I learnt, build nests of mud and hay, in rafters of homes where available (see AH verandah picture below), eat flying insects (which we saw first hand) and both sexes share domestic duties.

If you're a keen bird watcher, I'm sure you'll spot a whole lot more in and around the estate than i did, with my novice-eye.

AH itself is a home built mostly out of wood and stone and unless you take your own noise with you (read kids :-), it offers the sort of natural, peaceful vibrations that can bring stillness to the most agitated city mind. The aromatic diffusers placed in each room are often loaded with camphor and a soothing balm imbues the whole house.

If however, you prefer to delve into the depths of your being while sitting under the vast open sky, you can pick a nice spot under a large pine tree in the reserve forest nearby, like I did. As my body stilled, followed by my breath and finally, my mind, I felt the great silence emerge from within, utterly complete in itself.

I've had a similar experiences on an earlier visit to Balad, when a friend and I took a half hour tough trek up to the temple of the loyal deity, called Bhoomiya. On that occasion, we sat quietly in front of the small shrine and being the only visitors at the time, proceeded to close our eyes and let the Himalayan atmosphere lull us deeply into ourselves.

Sunday afternoon and a great sense of loss enveloped me as we began the journey down, back to Delhi. The fact that I was returning to the hustle-bustle of mundane life had, no doubt, a role to play in this, but this time around, the feeling of taking leave of my true self was greater than ever before.

I found solace in Brunton's wisdom again. "Use solitude but do not abuse it," he said. "I believe in rhythm, in withdrawal only if followed by activity, in solitude only if followed by society, in self-centered development only if social service is its later complement, in spirituality only if nicely balanced by materiality.

Aah well... :-) cheers!

Delhi Diary...

This blog is running a few weeks behind on it's promise of an entry every week, so here's a quick digest of some highlights and thoughts to try and make it up...

& We're having a mercifully mild summer in New Delhi till now. This is good news for runners here, especially if you're lucky enough to have a 500-acre forest around the corner, like mua :-) I've been exploring some of the smaller trails and discovering that Jahanpanah is also home to wonderful critters beyond the regular peacocks and my friendly fox. Last week, a fabulous creature ran past me on one of the more wooded trails...he/she looked like a civet or a raccoon.

Large as a dachshund (no short legs though), with lovely bandit-mask eyes and a striped tail, it was as pleasant a surprise as one could hope for, running in the heart of south Delhi, barely a few hundred metres away from the uber expensive Greater Kailash 2 kothis. Once again, with my very limited knowledge of the animals in the area, I am left wondering what I spotted and would be obliged to anyone who could enlighten me.

& I'm listening mostly to podcasts during my runs these days, with special interest to this one. The lady who runs The Brain Science Podacst calls it a show for "anyone with a brain".

The bad news is that she's not referring to just the physical organ :-) and the good news is that she makes a real effort to not just simplify brain science, but to extract practical tips from advances in neuro-science, so that we can all use these in our everyday lives.

For those of you who would rather have the Cliff notes on her work, rather than listen to it all, I will be posting just the practical tips soon :-) Call me a nerd, but I'm hooked.

& Caught the finale of the Zee TV show Dance India, Dance (Doubles)! over the weekend. P and I have been following it for a while, moved by the enthusiasm of the young participants and the high levels of skill on display. I am also moved by the 'dare to dream' power that these kinds of shows give kids from the middle and lower income families in India.

Most days, as I go past the more crowded 'garden' areas of the Jahanpanah forest, to the quieter red mud track, from where I start my run, I see kids practicing their acrobatic moves - flips and cartwheels and what have you. They use the leaves that have been raked and heaped for disposal as natural cushioning, to break their fall, and take turns 'boosting' each other through cool dance moves.

Dance-based TV reality shows a-plently on satellite TV, cheap MP3 players, role models for whom dance has proved to be the ticket to a better life, testosterone pumping through young veins...it all adds up to a heady, high-vitality mix for youngsters from economically weak backgrounds. Only one from thousands of such kids must be making the final national TV cut, but every kid living the dream gets in touch with his body in a very intense way, something that I believe must be a good thing. I could go into the brain science behind it right here, but I think it might be better to leave it for my post on practical brain tips :-)

& That about sums up my random thoughts on offer for now. Here's wishing everyone well and hoping to post a more focussed entry next time :-) Cheers!

8 Khoon Maaf...

Non-spoiler alert: No crucial plot points given away in this review

Vishal Bharadwaj's latest outing, Saat Khoon Maaf, is his weakest full length feature till date. And yet, it's well worth a watch.

Most of us know the film's idea and plot by now, but if for some reason you don't, you can look it up here, so I'll dive straight into my take on the film.

Two obvious technical weaknesses first: 1) the linear, episodic screenplay, as Susanna (Priyanka Chopra) moves from one husband to the next, making everything too predictable for the audience and 2) the much-abused-cinematic-device of the 'boy coming of age', narrating the film, through annoying voice over.

Next, what I really liked about the film: Priyanka Chopra. It's the perfect casting, ala Kareena Kapoor as Geet in Jab We Met. Kareena steals your heart in JWM as the highly impulsive, bubbly, impossibly friendly & naive (bordering on stupid) Geet. She's perfect, probably because she's likely many of those things in real life too.

You have to grant that Priyanka faces a greater challenge as Susanna in Saat Khoon Maaf, than Kareena did, as Geet in JWM. Priyanka has to age, deal with actors of a very high calibre on screen, etc in SKM.

But having said that, she probably is, in real life, very much like the incurable romantic Susanna that she plays on screen. Priyanka can be totally filmy and over-the-top in real life, making her on-screen romanticism look totally believable.

If you have any doubts, watch her silly schoolgirl-like antics on youtube, as she blushes uncontrollably at the very mention of Shahrukh Khan's name on Koffee with Karan... or see how she lip-syncs effortlessly, looking all dreamy in front of a live audience, to the song "tinka tinka zarra, zarra" on Zee TV'S Saregamapa show. My short point: she's the best thing in the film, cast perfectly.

Now to the main weakness of the film, according to me - the whole film is based on the premise of a woman who keeps falling for the wrong guy, because she is an incurable romantic. While Priyanka looks and acts the part, the screenplay has very little room for romance to flower on screen.

Every man she falls in love with also has to be married, his tragic flaw discovered and killed. All this takes up so much screen time that the film maker has to do away with the on-screen romance.

I would've settled for a film called '3 khoon maaf' (or better still, Teen Tigada :-), if it gave me a more solid emotional grip, as a member of the audience, on the tragic inevitability of Susanna's romantic nature. Instead, I ended up appreciating her calibre as an actress, but feeling a little cheated by the screenplay's lack of exploitation of her intrinsic, high-voltage romanticism.

Ruskin Bond (who has a cameo in the film) does the writer's job of twisting every tale in the film rather well, especially with Susanna's last husband... but the film tries to do a lot in a short time and ends up a little all over the place.

Final word: This is the same Vishal who's given us Maqbool and Blue Umbrella and Omkara...he has to try new things, which may occasionally not hit the bulls-eye, but I'm willing to grant him that. So this film was still worth a watch and I'm going to catch his next one too, without waiting for any reviews. Vishal ke liye, 8 Khoon Maaf...

Mirror, mirror, in my brain...

I'm not sure that this is the most appropriate forum for this entry, simply because this is a general purpose blog, of random musings, often quite trivial. However, since I don't write anywhere else at the moment, I'm going to assume that it will connect with whoever is willing to read, with an open, inquisitive mind.

After a long time, I walked into a book shop yesterday. I was there to pick up a book for a friend and as I waited for it to be brought out, I scanned the latest hardcovers on display at the cash counter. I stopped at Viliyanur Ramachandran's The Tell Tale Brain.

The shopkeeper tempted me with the Rs.399 tag, knowing I'm a sucker for this sort of reading, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered a review that said that Ramachandran's latest offering was a bit more terse than his earlier books, so I decided to check the general drift of The Tell Tale Brain on the internet before making up my mind.

The Los Angels Public Library, as part of its Podcasts, ALOUD @ Central Library, had a short address on the book by Ramachandran, followed by a brief question and answer session. It is available for free download here.

Let me begin by saying that his deep, machine gun oratory, especially the impossibly full rolling of "r"s gave me as much listening pleasure as did what he had to say. English becomes impossibly ruddy when it's used by the brain doc from Viliyanur, so I would say its worth a listen, even if you couldn't care less about the brain's frontal lobe or what it really does :-)

On to the content of his talk now, and some connections that I'm trying to make from there. Trust me, you don't have to be a nerd to follow along with his thinking - you just need common sense and an open mind.

During this podcast, Ramachandran chose to focus on these neurons in the brain called "mirror neurons".

Whenever we receive sensory stimulation, such as someone lovingly stroking our hand or poking our arm with a needle, thousands of neurons fire in the brain, sending pleasure or pain messages, as appropriate.

Beyond these, there are a small percentage of neurons (ballpark 10% according to Ramachandran), called "mirror neurons", that fire when we merely see someone else being touched/poked. Ramachandran calls these empathy or "Gandhi" neurons.

Apparently, when we see something painful being done to someone else, and mirror neurons fire, what happens in normal people is that tactile receptors in our skin overrule or send a "null" response to the brain, as if to say "no, you're not really being poked, you're just watching someone else get poked with a needle, so its okay to empathise, but you don't need to feel pain". That's why we don't really "feel" their physical pleasure or pain. So far, so good.

But in those with an amputated arm or leg, and who continue to have "phantom limbs", since there are no skin receptors to send the 'overrule' signal, they seem to be extra-sensitive to things happening to other people's limbs, that they observe. All well within the realm of common sense, right?

Now, Ramachandran pushes the point slightly further and says, a patient of his, a woman with a phantom limb, actually felt relief from severe pain by just watching her husband massage his own arm.

Ramachandran also makes a few more very interesting points in his talk regarding autism and mirron neurons, which I will take up in another entry, but here's the point I'd like to make from just he above observations.

Eastern religions have held that "empathy towards the other" is the hallmark of a true Sadhu or Realised One. In the Q and A session that follows Ramachandran's talk in the podcast, the audience and he speculate about whether "mirror neurons" could somehow be "strengthened", to make one more empathatic towards others. Ramachandran reacts by saying that there might be pharmacological methods to achieve this (such as the Esctasy pill)

I was immediately taken back to my first 10-day Vipassana course, where the main technology taught involved simply "observing" bodily sensations, starting from the skin and moving deeper into the body, all the while, "not reacting" to the sensation. In other words, you watched your own sensations, but without involvement, thereby not reacting to them. It was really tough.

However, by the time the residential, complete-silence, 10-day course was over, most people expressed a great sense of empathy towards all other participants. Most were able to sense and feel beyond their own bodies and minds, to what others were experiencing. It was a feeling of being "connected" to a larger self, beyond the boundaries of one's own conventional self. I have had this experience repeated, with much, much greater intensity, a second time in my life, through a very different practice, but the core still involved going "beyond the body".

My short point is this - this "equanimity" or "not-attaching-any-importance" to the signals from the sensory receptors in one's own body, might well amount to enhancing the signal of the "mirror" or "Gandhi" neurons. This might well be enabling meditators to pick up what is happening beyond the limits of their individual bodies and "tune in" to signals from other people around them.

The most realised saints always seem to have a peculiar disregard for their own physical body and seem to have the ability to sense things far beyond. Could we actually have a partial understanding, at a physical, scientific level, of how this happens?

Methinks this needs Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging (FMRI) studies of meditators, targeted specifically to study mirror neuron activity, to get a better understanding of this phenomenon.

Sorry if I've completely lost you with this outrider entry. If any of it struck a chord, do comment. Cheers.