6 Rules to watch a movie

Calling me a movie buff would be an understatement. I am a movie fanatic.
I am one of those weirdos that watch at least 3 movies a week (used to clock one movie a day).
I watch all kinds of shit…from Kurosawa to S.J.Suryah. Sometimes, for me, the line between life and a movie blurs.
That said, here are 6 rules if you want to watch a movie with me.

1. Be prepared to watch the movie from the censor certificate to “The End”. Stay off the remote if you are one of those that fast forward the credits. I love to watch the credits. I fancy myself as future filmmaker and I believe I am making contacts.
2. If you have watched the movie before, I would prefer it if your mouth is duct-taped. I hate it when you go “Now just watch this scene…it is going to blow you off”. There would be a homicide involved if you reveal the ending. Why do I say this with such gusto? I used to be one of those idiots and it suddenly hit home when someone else did it to me. So, there.
3. I want you to give your complete attention when you watch the movie. I don’t like it if you take your eyes of the screen to look at your watch or your popcorn. I get very hurt when you miss a scene, something that the director has put his soul into. For some strange reason, I consider it a personal insult. Beware if I have watched the movie before. Because, I will be watching YOU and you better concentrate.
4. Be prepared for some expert comments from me about the direction, music, editing, acting etc throughout the course of the movie. This is a one-way street. YOU keep quiet…remember point #2.
5. I immerse myself into the movie experience…meaning; you are likely to hear hoots of laughter or see tears streaming down my face. I get very animated. My advice to you, ignore me.
6. After the movie ends, I love to take the movie apart. I expect you to allocate some time for this exercise. It could be an hour or several days depending on the movie

Actually, all this may sound excessive. It is not.
Imagine your fate if you were to join me watch a movie that I made.

The trouble with BUSH

Our clock at home stopped working. Tried changing batteries with no response from the clock. It insisted that the time was 12:30 midnight. My wife Yamuna is the tool man at home. I am mechanically challenged. My part in solving any such problem is restricted to providing moral support. She firmly believes that she can solve any problem from Cars to HDTVs if she can get to view it's innards and get to work on it.
True to form, she took the clock apart. Little pieces of small gears, tiny springs, and weird plastic parts lay strewn about. The only parts I recognized were the battery, the hour and the minute hand.

A long time ago in a faraway land...actually on a hot humid afternoon in Chennai, I was sitting in our living room, looking at our radio willing it to work. I must have been eight or nine years old. We lived in a single tenement (ஒண்டிகுடுத்தனம்) in a row of houses.
It was a BUSH radio made of solid wood, lovingly varnished with 2 big dials. I was frantically turning the dial letting the pointer traverse from one end of the frequency spectrum to the other.. Nothing... Just an irritatingly high static.
I ran to the toolbox and got the screwdriver. I hefted the radio onto the floor, turned it around and unscrewed the back panel of the radio. The interior was a jumble of wires, valves and circuit boards coated with a fine sheet of dust. My palms were all sweaty with excitement. For the next hour, I adventurously took apart every piece of the radio's internal parts.
Then suddenly panic hit me. How am I going to put it all together? I turned the radio around, switched it on and tried the dial one more time. No music.
I went to the kitchen with a worried look on my face. I was looking for anything that would solve my dilemma. I found a yellow cloth bag (மஞ்ஞப்பை) from "Ananda Hardware". I grabbed it, returned and scooped up all the parts into the bag. I tied it securely, stuffed it into the radio and screwed the back panel on.
My father concerned that radio was dead, called a mechanic. I started to sweat. The whole family was there in the living room waiting for the mechanic to work his magic.
You should have seen the look on his face when he unscrewed the back panel off and peeked at the contents.

I walked to my wife with a yellow bag, a smile on my face.