I am Manju Latha Kalanidhi, a full-time media professional, content writer, social media manager and Founder of Rice Bucket Challenge (considered India's answer to the Ice Bucket Challenge) based in India. You will find a few of my writings here about life, travel, power women, and happy-shiny things in the world... Fresh, spicy, vegetarian, filling and yummy - that's Manju Latha Kalanidhi's blog Gobimanjuria.blogspot.com Lets get cracking! Write 2 me at manjukalanidhi@gmail.com
Jan 20, 2010
Adhurs movie review by Manju Latha Kalanidhi
Jan 17, 2010
Namo Venktasa review - Jan 17, 2009
if you've missed Rab Ne Banadi Jodi's beginning and Jab We Met climax, Namo Venkatesa will be a good synthesis of the two. The only hitch: It is neither as heart-touching as the SRK-starrer nor as funny as Jab We Met.
For the review, click on http://www.upperstall.com/films/2010/namo-venkatesa
Aug 19, 2009
What say fella?
Drama In Real Life
Going for a movie in a multiplex? Be ready to go down half a kilometer at a 60 degree gradient at 25 kmph into a tunnel for eight minutes to reach the parking space. Of course, wait for your turn at the ‘automatic electronic mechanized smart sensor-activated hydraulic gate’, where 27 cars are already honking, asking you to make way.
Movie watching in Hyderabad is as tough as movie making. Both involve a lot of planning, co-ordination, logistics etc. Even a year ago, you could just decide after dinner to catch a movie. You call friends, folks, neighbor’s and even neighbor’s dog to watch a movie. Pile into a car, descend on the ticket counterwalah and then watch the movie. Simple.
Now, it is a four hour ordeal, almost like flying from one place to the other. First, you can’t just walk into a theatre like that. Either tickets are booked by some corporate for his employees, or have been booked by fans. If it is a good movie, the blackmarketeers have bought the tickets. Moral of the story: Plan in advance.
Now, you have to go down half a kilometer at a 60 degree gradient at 25 kmph speed into a tunnel for eight minutes to reach the parking space. There, by the time you await the ‘automatic electronic mechanized smart sensor-activated hydraulic gate’, about 27 cars are already honking, asking you to make way while the automatic electronic… thingy takes its own sweet time to give you the parking ticket. Now, you need to walk up 900 metres, wait for the lift for seven minutes, ride up six floors for four minutes to reach your multiplex floor. No, we haven’t gotten half-way through.
Now, you are the 12th person in the line for the security check. Sorry, now you are the 4th person in the women’s line. But wait, now you will be ushered into a dingy 1x1 feet make-shift room where the stern and indifferent woman will feel you up with her gloved hands. Thank God. I am a safe human being to the mall.
Now, you are the 12th person in the line for the security check. Sorry, now you are the 4th person in the women’s line. No, I am not repeating myself. The previous security check was for the mall. Now, you are undergoing a second round of scans for the multiplex. You are let in after being declared safe.
Finally, when you settle down to watch the movie, you will listen to ‘Too hi To Jannat Meri ring tones four times, Bommaalee two times and a tinny version of unreleased Josh title song one time. After the ringtones of the one sitting four seats to the right of you and the one in the second row ahead of you, the movie begins.
After the movie, the ride is no less thrilling. Two escalators, two lifts, four minutes of waiting for the lift; walking through the basement for seven minutes while hearing 80 cars honk at you for going slow and obstructing the traffic… Finally, when you do get on to the main road after that thrilling uphill drive while honking maniacally, the movie experience is over. This is what is called movie drama in real life!
Aug 17, 2009
Movie review of Anjaneyulu
http://www.upperstall.com/films/2009/anjaneyulu
Aug 4, 2009
Magadheera movie review
Jul 22, 2009
Less Style More Life Guru
Published in Big Hyderabad, July 2009
Dear Recession!You are a stranger to us. We haven’t known each other for too long, have we? Just at the beginning of last year, when we were all having pipe dreams about owning farm houses on the Vikarabad highway and moving into gated communities on the Warangal highway, we were introduced to you. Recession, they said, had hit us. The word, incidentally, rhymes with repercussions. That’s not a nice word at all. A word my boss uses when I go wrong and he asks me with a nasty face whether I know of the ‘repercussions’ of my actions!
Till last year, it was Thank God It’s Friday. This year, the line is ‘Oh God, it’s the month end again’. Lifestyle split into two words. Style flew out of the window and life remained. Birthdays meant the office sponsoring a lunch at a place where they ask you ‘mineral’ or ‘regular’. We used to choose the former. Celebrations meant gifts and return gifts for all. A wedding anniversary was about a booze and snooze party at a friend’s farmhouse where he would sponsor the eats. A holiday meant buying expensive souvenirs without haggling for it. Salary was roughly divided into EMIs, Credit Card payments and since there was nothing much left, it again meant applying for fresh loans and paying through credit cards. Saving was a word that we associated with washing powder ads where they talk about saving Rs 3 on every packet of washing powder. All that before we met you!
Now, we celebrate birthdays at home and pass on a box of Kaju Barfi (Rs 400 a kilo, sob sob) and get free online cards into the email inboxes from friends. Clothes for the birthday meant giving a gift from an old granny to the good old tailor and get it done a day before the D-day. Where have those days of walking past malls, trying out clothes in changing rooms and coming up to show off the loot. But I guess, it’s not so bad after all. At least, we now spend just one-tenth of what we used to, a year ago.
Designer clothes have given way to tailor-made ones. Expensive Sunday afternoon lunches have been replaced with a chat session in the street corner. The car sits decked up in the parking slot with a gleaming silver nylon cover on it as two-wheelers with maha mileage and fuel savings move us around. Holidays meant flying off to crowded destinations and blowing up a few hundred thousands for a weekend. Now, it’s a quick drive on the weekend, preferably to a pilgrim place where we can ask God to send recession packing away. Weekends used to be a trip to the resort telling friends and folks we are not available. Now, it’s a potluck lunch over a game of Rummy and scrabble and cups of hot masala chai. Trips to the malls have plummeted and visits to parents, chachas and maasis have grown.
Yes, we don’t have much style left. It is about living grassroots and spending only on what we need. But thank you dear recession! It is because of you that we have less style, more life guru!