Just Talk...

Things I can't do

2010-08-11T06:38:00.003+05:30

In the past few days I am guilty of not having blogged, and even more guilty of not having read blog posts. This has been a period of serious introspection for me. My life was going nowhere and on an average the general sense of dissatisfaction prevailed over scattered moments of cheeriness.

Bullshit.

I have been passing time, playing football - or soccer, as they call it in this part of the world, watching & playing a lot of cricket and generally dumbing myself down with movies like Aisha, Salt & Once Upon a Time in Bombay. My past assignment has been lighter. I have profited, not as much by introspection as by mere happenstance, of realizations of myself and am now armed with answers to the most dreaded questions in an interview.

What are your weaknesses?

I have so often floundered, and ended up saying corny stuff like 'time management, over enthusiasm, over attention to details' - you know, the sort of things you would say that would typically be 'strengths' but you just portray in a frail manner so that the interviewer doesn't know what your 'real' weaknesses are. That you actually value life more in the work-life balance, and wished that l-word were heavier. Anyhoo.

I have now realized, and I tell this with all honesty, that I can't do 3 things.

1. Google specific details: So, I suck at web-based research. I mean, as long as you ask me to look up high level details, movies, sportsmen, etc I can do as well as the average facebooker. But, the moment I have to draw up numbers like 'Membership of a particular health plan in 2005' or 'reasons why the profit margin of a client went down from 2006 to 2008', I just pass. I mean, I don't think I am cut out for this. I can read articles, but can't drill out numbers. And part of it comes from the fact that the world in general is too obsessed with specificity, and that you need to understand that numbers are indicative and not definitive.
2. Take notes: Whenever, I am in a meeting / interview / workshop, I absolutely have to be looking at the client eye-to-eye, no less, and talk to them. I can't be taking notes. I am not proud of this mind you, 'cos bigger, better people manage to excel at both. I know of people who chart out meeting minutes, so close to being verbatim, that I wonder if it were a transcript. And these would have been active participants. But I can't. Not to say I suck at interviews / workshops. I am quite fine at that. I just hate the concept of having to take notes and then transcribing it for benefit of others.
3. Sell: Sugar-coat, I can. Make them see a positive side, I can. But exaggerate the truth, I simply can't. And this, in a corporate environment, or at least going by the few 'great' sales pitches I have seen, translates to bad salesmanship. What I can do is tell them the truth. Of what we can do, and we cannot. I strongly believe in the product or service selling itself, rather than having to push it. So, I can, confidently walk up and say, 'Here is what I can do, but you know what - we can work together and I am confident of learning'. But, I can never say, 'I can do it all, just name it!' In other words, I am old school, undersell and over-perform.

See, that wasn't too tough. Now, I know what to include in my resume. And let me be honest, I am not particularly working on any of these. Because, I am not entirely convinced, yet, of the disadvantages of these 'pitfalls'. So, there.

And I swear to be a man and admit this the next time I get interviewed.

Of Films: Black Friday

2010-07-02T21:49:00.000+05:30

"I am going to take a piss…", the vendor says and walks nonchalantly away from his stall, waving at regular customers and almost every random bystander. The camera pans over him, on to the base of the Bombay Stock Exchange and we can still hear traces of his involuntary conversations. It is lunch time and people are exiting the office building, the whole screen is covered by a blue hue. The vendor is still there somewhere in the crowd, as your eyes search for him. The reds and the greens are accentuated, while the whites and the grays blend into the blue. Slowly, in a very calculated pace the sound fades off. You know what is coming, and your eyes search for the vendor. For a moment, a brief moment, he is the protagonist. You are concerned for his life.

Boom.

Glass shatters. One man flies across the screen. There is blood on the ground. Ash and dust mix leaving the whole scene covered in an unwelcome blanket. Your eyes search for the vendor. And there you see him, alive, and there is hope. You see him trying to help someone on the street, he carries a boy in his hands and then tries to pull another acquaintance, as the camera pans across a man still to recover from the shock. All this while, all you hear is what the vendor is probably hearing. A long, high frequency screeching beep. You have just seen the 1993 bomb blast through the eyes of a nondescript vendor.

The very next scene, interspersed with news flashes of the various other bomb blasts, is the arrival of the bomb squad. The leader of the bomb squad slows his gait down. He clearly hasn't seen anything of this magnitude before in his life. And, all of a sudden, just like that, you are now watching the scene through his eyes. He slowly gathers his step and just when you think he will launch himself into the investigation - he sits down. He doesn't drop down, just calmly sits down. He is collecting his thoughts - maybe even calculating the damage; extent of impact and in his mind making a rough order estimate of the amount of RDX that was used. The next five minutes, you are in the scene as a member of the bomb squad, not as the vendor anymore. The perspective of narration changed from that of a victim to the investigator - both of whom, by the way, would never ever be seen in the rest of the movie.

This, and this precisely, is what made the movie work for me. The effortless change of narrative perspectives. And, the effectiveness of this change on the viewer given the grittiness of the characters is jaw-dropping. Be it the fascinatingly choreographed chase scene where you become the hunted or the way you relate to Kay Kay in all those scenes when he is fighting within himself.

But the movie turns you on your head from Chapter 3. Badshah Khan is now on the run, and just like that you are now empathizing, even sympathizing with a man who is responsible for the death of about 300 people in a series of bomb blasts. The movie engages you and involves you like none other I have seen. Every character has been scripted with such delightful honesty that you end up living the life. The on-your-face hues of red and blue to enhance the screen stops being a pester and start setting the environment ever so well because you find yourself virtually within the confines of that scene, and that scene only.

I wonder if Anurag Kashyap specifically had a protagonist for every chapter in mind. Or even every scene; the protagonists rationale, for lack of a better word, is presented w/o baggage; as a matter of fact. The perspective of the narrative just keeps on changing, drawing the audience to the fence separating retrospective notional justice and clear and present sympathy. That nature of writing was simply unknown to me before I watched this movie 5 years ago. And it has made me go back and watch it at least 2 more times in the last 5 years.

Human Aliens

2010-06-04T21:55:00.003+05:30

What if we are the aliens on this planet? No, seriously. The most popularly believed theory of human evolution is that a bunch of apes migrated from Africa across the world and then evolved. Now, I say alien invasion could have been equally possible.

Circa [whatever the year was about 5 Mn years ago]

M1: Yo Bro, let's go.
M2: Wa'ssup Jesop.
M1: Did you hear about the blue thing last night?
[A nuclear bomb blasts some 50 miles away shattering glasses and spewing smoke and ash. A deafening sound later]
M2: Say, what?
M1: The Blue Thing dude. Looked cool. You got to see that?
M2: Oh nope. I was collecting leaves for winter. These leaves are itchy. And besides, it's fall time so time for some colorful ones, Everyl likes the colors.
M1: C'mon man. They had projected the damn thing on to the big screen last night. That thing looked beautiful.
M2: Where is it anyway?
M1: I don't know, must be some 100 Mn miles away.
M2: And, you wanna go there?
M1: Hell yeah.
M2: Alright, let me ask Everyl.

....

E: Adambach dear, why do we have to go?
M2/ A: Everyl babes, it's cool out there. And besides, I frankly don't like the fall colors.
E: Hmm... ok. Let's go.

....

M1: [Suspicious] Man, that was easy. Are you sure she has no other plans? These creatures from Venus, I tell you. They have made Mars a living hell man.
[A bomb explodes]
E: Say what?
M2/ A: Nothing dear. Appleton was just praising you.
E: Of course. Too bad I couldn't get my DM61A1 with me.

....

E: Damn this place is cold. I told you we should have got some more leaves for covering ourselves. Oh, there. That looks like a garden. Lets collect some leaves. Wish it were fall season here.
M1/ Ap: Oh Everyl, shut up will you.
M2/ A: Eve dear... he is just kidding.
E: Adam, eat him.
M2/ A: Err... but...he is the only one who knows...this is a sin... I mean, all the knowledge..
E: Adam... eat that Apple, now.

And the rest, as they say is mythology.

Come to think of it, we are the most intelligible species on earth. We are almost the 'newest'. And, for all we know we must have dumped some desolate little planet for a better place to survive and made this our own. The resident species, dinosaurs, lions, dogs an crows were dumb, technologically illiterate and used power to rule. They must have had sightings of many such space ships landing with alien humans being spotted now and then. And before they knew it - we came, we saw and we conquered. I don't think the dinosaurs went through a natural extinction process. Them damn things were just taking too much space.

Am I watching too many Sci-Fi movies?

Practice makes a man perfect

2010-05-07T07:45:00.000+05:30

... and apparently, the lack of it makes him suck at it. Fellows, here's the story of my life. The story of how a young little boy didn't get to be what he always wanted to be, but instead ended up being what the society wanted him to be. It's sad, so get your handkerchiefs out and move your cup or tea away from you.

As a kid, I was awesome at cricket. I played for my team back home from the age of 11. That is no mean achievement considering the fact that the next youngest chap in the team was at least 5 years elder to me. I started off fielding for my team, at what I thought was the most awkward position; exactly behind the wicketkeeper - just before the gutter. It wasn't until 3 years later that I realized it wasn't a 'real' position, per se; but hey I love my fielding.

It was one fine day, when I was 13 or something, I guess that I bowled to one of our top batsmen. The ball cut in sharply and had the batsman's stumps flying. Oh, actually the stump just limply fell down because it wasn't fixed properly - but hey, I got our top batsman out. He was 19 and I was 13; and I bowled him over. (Argh! Not like that.) This gave me a break. Like a real one. I was now officially the "practice bowler" for the team. This would ensure our "match bowler" never got tired. One season of dedicated 'nets' bowling and I found my place in the team the next year. I was elated. Oh! By the way, I still possess the pebble on the pitch that made the ball cut sharply in the first place. Anyway.

Now, there was this new problem I realized after some 6 years of playing cricket. I never got a chance to bat. I was the team's designated bowler. I knew I was a good batsman; I had joined the local cricket coaching class for a year and won the best batsman award too. I had played 47 balls, scored 27 runs and stayed not out. I scored 2 boundaries; one a fine late cut through third man and the other a fine glance to fine leg. Sublime. I was a lean guy; I scored a whole 7 runs in front of the wicket. I had the highest average in the team, and it is my honest belief that I deserved the award. So, now I was 20 and hadn't gotten a single chance to prove my batting abilities. I approached the captain, and asked him if I could open the innings. After he stopped laughing, he rose from the floor and sat on the wall he had fallen off laughing, he realized that I was not joking.

And he gave me a chance. Now, fellows, this was the first time I was opening the innings. And we were playing the team from a nearby slum. I was a bit nervous, sweaty hands and all. When I walked back after seeing my leg stump take a walk itself, my captain patted on my 20 year old shoulder and said, you should practice. My eyes gleamed. The walk back from the pitch to the pavilion, which was really a tree at the end of the ground, was long and full of thoughts about nifty come-backs to the team's sarcastic remarks that would have welcomed me. But instead, the captain showed some confidence in me. I was determined to practice.

But friends, if there is anything which is more truer than 'Practice makes a man perfect', it is 'Old habits die hard'. No one would ever bowl seriously during practice matches except me. People would try all sort of weird bowling styles and spins. I never got to bat a real bowler except during matches. And, then we moved grounds. A new construction came up in the ground we used to play and we moved to this area where we could play only on the off side. And then the next 3 years, I would bat only to play on the off side. I practiced, yeah. And I could bat like a gem on the off side. But, except for the paddle sweep - I couldn't play the on side for nuts. And this had to happen to the boy who idolized Mohd. Azharuddin.

Now, I am in California and I play cricket. I could bowl after a hiatus of 5 years with little practice. I could bat on the offside, once I get my touch. But the on side, it simply doesn't exist.

PS: Irrelevant but true. My cousin's apartment housed a girl named Kripa: she was an amazing cricketer. It was she who first prodded my to try and bat up the order (in under-arm) cricket. Any baseless confidence that was instilled in my little mind, is credited to her.

Tough Choice

2010-05-06T07:36:00.000+05:30

Everyone comes across phases in life where one has to make tough choice. A decision that would potentially change the way you lead your life. Decisions that would affect not just self, but others around.

I had my chance last week. I was checking into the Double Tree Hotel (Hilton Group) in Berkeley for a week's stay. It is a fantastic hotel, right by the bay with scenic look outs. Just when I was checking in, at the reception counter the sweet Philipino lady with a welcoming smile handed over my room key and asked me a question: "Breakfast or internet?"

I was baffled. I thought I didn't hear it correctly. In a parliamentary manner of asking her to repeat, I said 'What the ...??!!' To which she duly replied - one of them is complimentary. Now, this was a choice that would decide my lifestyle for the rest of the week. All week long, client meetings were lined up to start at 8 am in the morning, which meant getting up at 6. So, given that lunch would be no earlier than 12 noon - no breakfast meant 6 hours of no food. On the other hand, no internet meant no evening life.

Giving this a quick consideration, I found myself unable to take the decision. I asked her again, 'Are you serious?', to which she curtly replied "Yes".

I took the keys and went back to the room. Unpacked my stuff, took my laptop and walked over to the lobby for free internet and spent the night up to 2 am working in the lobby. Crazy, right? But hey, in my defense, the breakfast was by the bay and they served good hot tea. So...

Anyway, what choice would you have made: Breakfast or internet?

Long time; No blog

2010-01-14T04:18:00.001+05:30

Just wanted to check this mobile blogging thingy. Quite useful for moblogs, if you are into that kinda blogging. Also, o just realised that pressing the spacebar twice in my iPhone keypad results in a period and a space.

Awesome.

Random updates: I will be moving to Chicago shortly. Hopefully. And there is a cricket match to be played this Sunday. Souls are blessed. And I hear it is going to be a T20. Given my history, it will be the longest match I play. And it isn't even ironic. Such goes life.

Coolness returns.

Capital losses for India

2010-01-14T01:00:00.001+05:30

Capital losses for India

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MF Hussain and the Freedom of Art

2009-12-07T22:24:00.001+05:30

I like this man. I do not know much about him. I haven’t met him. I haven’t read about him. I am not particularly an art connoisseur. I haven’t even seen his paintings, except for the odd ones that are flashed in the media. I do not know much, as I said, and hence I can’t be making blatant statements about him - good or bad.

But then I saw Meenaxi. And I formed an opinion - not the adamant kind. But yeah, I was floored to say the least. If there could be poetry without words, this movie had it. The source was MF Hussain and the medium was Santosh Sivan. The result was Meenaxi: the most poetically photographed movie I have ever seen. And, then to add beauty to it there was the art direction by Sharmishta Roy who captured the essence of just about everything so perfectly in the movie. How can I not mention the music? If ever you would want to hear music to enrich abstract thoughts and visuals, watch this movie for sheer inspiration. It is an idea bag. I am sure many of us would have wondered looking at ‘life’ paintings of a market place in a village or just a cart and some people on a street and then been amazed by the sheer detailings that goes in. And then the faded, dull earthiness that is evoked through the ironically colorful picture? Well, if you are a lover of that kind - this movie is frameful of that. It is as if MFH has painted every single frame on a canvas and then let Sharmishta and Santosh loose on the location.

So, with not a bad plot at all this movie does make for a great viewing. I found it particularly enjoyable. So, within a week of its release, when a certain sect of people raise their voice over the use of a song - the brilliantly composed, amazingly delivered and wonerfully sung - Noor Un Ala Noor (pardon my inefficient Urdu); it simply beats the purpose of living in a free country. I was all beaten down and ready to face yet another toned down, force-compromised artistic venture. But then something happened that made me stand up and tip a hat to MFH. He withdrew the movie. He lost a lot of money. The technicians employed were the best in India. Tabu was ‘hot’ in the industry. So, I can bet my words when I say he would have lost a whole lot of money in the deal. But that is what he did. He withdrew the movie from the screens. No comments. No arguments. No compromises.

The movie went international, screened in some festivals and got a few good reviews. Died a silent death, if you may. But the movie shot in 2004 - was ahead of its times. And the man who made it, seemed ahead of his society. He has now sadly moved his base to Dubai, I hear. As I said, I have not followed much of this man. But one move, one movie - made it for me.

Book | A Thousand Years of Good Prayers - 3

2009-10-26T23:30:00.004+05:30

The more you get, the more you are left wanting. Such is her art. Such is her power. An enchantress, words her weapon.

What started off as livid descriptions of old Chinese people, is now slowly turning out to be this motley collection of people and relationships. Actually, come to think of it, it is more about people than relationships. It seems to be a concentrated effort to concentrate on people, than the relationships they share. And therein lies the beauty. The next two stories Love in the Marketplace (Story.5) and Son (Story.6) are both about a mother and her child, a girl who has lost her first love in the former and a son who is gay in the latter. In either of the stories, Yiyun spends words generously in establishing characters and people. Their thought process is exposed. Their words are told. Their persona is defined through their actions. And the mothers in their own ways, in both the stories are searching for a child lost in the body that shares space with them. Yiyun's central characters are prominent, either by their strength or weakness, dominance or vulnerability. But every character changes. It is either an incident, or an action by another person. But they change, leaving us wondering about the strength and self-belief portrayed till that point.

In Love in a Marketplace, the protag, Sansan, has lost her love, and it is her own doing. She is unapologetic about it. Doesn't regret it. She has accepted it and now, her mother wants her to reverse her emotions. Ma asks Sansan to go back to Tu (her lost love who married her best friend, Min, on her insistence) because she has waited for her. Ma assumes Sansan has waited for Tu, because in the 10 years since Tu and Min went to America, she hasn't married or met another man. Tu has 'had her' and Sansan would marry only him, Ma assumes. Sansan insists on her 'cleanliness' and has promised herself never to go back to Tu.

"Why do you want to be the best egg seller in the world, ma?"
"I tell the people I sell the best eggs, I have to keep my promise."
"Nobody cares ma, you are keeping a promise that only matters to you. I have my promise to keep", she asserts again.

A promise is a promise, a vow remains a vow she reminisces capturing the essence of the movie Casablanca - which has defined life for her. And then, in a moment of insanity she meets her match, right there at the marketplace. She meets a person who keeps his promise, and she gives him a cut from shoulder to elbow - just as he promised.

The next story 'Son' on the other hand, is about a son who is gay and works in America. He comes, only to spend some time with his mother and they disagree right from the time they leave the airport. Yiyun deviates from her usual style. All character description is done through dialogues. In her earlier stories, her characters reveal themselves in their thoughts and dreams. Not in dialogue. So, here the narration transforms to a movie. We hear constant discussions, arguments and the son talks in punch lines.

"... What I am saying is many things are circulated and recycled. Language is one of them. Faith is another. They are like bills in our wallet. You can buy things with them, but they themselves hold no meaning"

He says, pointing out to Ma's converted faith from communism to church. Talking about either at the time of the other was blasphemous. Ma is hurt - but as soon as they reach home she forgives. No, forgets. Ma has to accept her son for what he is. The son is living an underground life. A life of anonymous identities on the internet. And then she takes him to the church. An incident involving two young beggars changes the son's outlook. He shares his little secret with his Ma. She accepts him for what he is and assures that

'God loves you for what you are, not for what others expect you to be'

He wants to make a joke on her god, but his eyes meet her eyes that are so loving and hopeful. He turns his eyes away.

PS: More on A Thousand Years of Good Prayers here: Part 1, Part 2

Instant?

2009-10-26T20:00:00.003+05:30

I am back in Hyderabad. I have mixed emotions about this place. But this post ain’t about that. There was some problem with my desk phone, and hence my network as the two are connected. So, I called for help to the local network support team at 9:40 am and finally got a response at 11:10. But this post ain’t about that neither. This help was in the form of a newly joined feller who came to me with a Vendor tag. I asked him why he isn’t wearing a temporary ID card, to which he replied he would be getting one today; his 7th day in the organization. And as you guessed, this post ain’t about this incident either. So, I went with the network support guy and was waiting outside the network support room in for about 15 minutes where he was animatedly discussing something with an adapter in his hand.

And I was just outside the room, staring at a poster from a Technology group which I did not know existed in my organization ...

It was an advertisement of MS Office Communicator 2007 (and this is 2009!). In huge letters, the poster read Instant! That caught my attention in an instant alright. So, close your eyes and what comes to mind with the word instant?

Noodles? Coffee?

Ok. Good. Same here. So, they have these photos of instant noodles and a dip-tea (subs. to coffee). And the caption below says something to the effect of ‘Faster than you can make tea or noodles. Redefining Instant.’ It sort of tickled me. I mean, I understand that designing a poster for advertisement is painful. And also that most bad ads are a result of stringent deadlines, and not bad designers as is popularly believed. But, I deviate.

So, how much time do you take to make instant noodles. Maggi claims 2 mins - but every time I have tried I have spent a least of 5 minutes. The cup noodles, whose picture was displayed on the poster, also takes about 2 mins and 40 secs, if you are not too mindful of having it in a saucy condition. So, does the poster claim that if I use MS Office Communicator 2007 (in 2009) I can ping a person sitting across the room in less than 2 mins and 40 secs? Is that what Instant supposed to mean? Redefined and all that? No, I mean. We are talking electrons here and all those electronic signals that travel at crazy, zany speeds nearing the velocity of light. I could mail a person half way across this globe and get an out of office in less than 15 seconds (depending on the auto-send receive settings, of course). I mean, c’mon yaar.

Coming to the dip tea (not Dipti), the fastest I have seen a chai-wallah make dip tea is about 35 seconds. And the tea doesn’t taste good, if you know what I mean.

I mean, what is the poster trying to advertise - that I can ping a person and before he receives it, rush to the vending machine and get myself a cup of tea? Or cup noodles on a really bad day? If Microsoft were to see the ad and interpret as crazily as I have, they would be boiling. Boiling enough to make that cup noodle ready withing a second. And then all would make sense.

Anyway. No offense, of course. This is what happens if we have such posters in an IT company, especially when there are troubled souls standing outside network support rooms.

It wasn't me...

2009-10-26T19:53:00.002+05:30

… seems to be world’s favorite game. Not literally, but in spirit everyone’s pointing to everyone else but themselves.

First Arundhati says that the War against the Maoist is a corporate doing, then Indian intel says that LTTE is supporting Maoists and then some guy in Pakistan says India is funding Talibs in Pakistan.

And it’s everywhere, even when Thane’s bridge was to be fixed people were sending each other letters (not even e-mails). At least 2 lives could have been saved. But such is life. And death.

No, I mean what’s going on? Why this blame game? Sometimes I just feel like the whole of mankind needs a restart. You know the good ol’ Ctrl+Alt+Del . I knew Microsoft had the solution to every problem in the world. They are the panacea, not Google. Or Apple.

Hail Windows.

Ok. Whatever.

Book | A Thousand Years of Good Prayers – 2

2009-10-26T00:17:00.002+05:30

The more you read Yiyun the more she entrances you into her world of little Chinese people. I am just only done with the next 2 stories (3&4) in her book; Immortality (Story.3) and The Princess of Nebraska (Story.4). If the first 2 stories Extra (Story.1) and After a Life (Story.2) capture the silent lives of the old, the succeeding two stories venture out further.

Immortality tries to deal with many things – all in one sway. Here too, a changing China is in the grind of things. And amidst this grind, we are shown only this one unfortunate son who resembles the dictator. The story starts with the legends of the Great Papa (eunuchs) during imperial times and jump cuts into a small town in modern day China. It is from here on that Yiyun traces the life of this unfortunate son. His life is juxtaposed with the rise, dominance and fall of a communist country; only the small town doesn’t want to let go. For all the guilt and repression that they carry of being fooled by the dictator, they do not want to loosen their grip on their legacy – the unfortunate son who resembled the dictator. Yiyun paints all this in a single stroke of her brush, lifting only to weave the imperial past to the transient present.

Like in Extra, where an old lady finds an unlikely friend in a little boy and almost makes us relive her youth by play of words and phrases; in The Princess of Nebraska a girl (Sasha) is pregnant from an homosexual (gay, Yang). So, from the elderly in the first two stories, to almost an uncannily sketchy biography in Immortality – Yiyun takes us to the world of Chinese youth oppressed by the conservatism in China. The lives and emotions of 3 people (2 homosexual men and a straight woman) lay bare in front of us. Yang, ironically named, has played a woman in his School Opera all his life. They even had a feminine name for him. Yiyun, as a passing comment, has Yang mention about girls

“We didn’t talk. They played handmaids and nannies, background roles.”

And Sasha reaffirms asking if Yang played the princess. Not only are we told about Yang and his operatic history, but the conservative practice of not having the girls play prominent public roles is being subtly underlined. And in the same stroke she presents Yang, the name representing the essence of male – opposite of Yin, as a boy who is now in a seeming disadvantage due to his own sexual preferences. This storyline is interwoven in the narrative which is actually set in America, where Sasha is waiting to have an abortion done with the help of Boshen, Yang’s lover back in China! Yiyun uses characters as devices to elucidate the plot. We end up relating with the people – all the three leads, imperfect in their own ways, and as if to ascertain human nature, we end up sympathizing with Sasha – the one who is having a baby inside and awaiting an abortion, the one with all the troubles in the world.
And the story ends with a flourish, with an absolute beauty of a line that reads:

“Being a mother must be the saddest yet the most hopeful thing in the world, falling into a love that, once started, never ends”

More as I read on…

PS: More on Yiyun | A Thousand Years of Good Prayers: Part 1

Chetan Bhagat | What's he got that I ain't got?

2009-10-25T16:48:00.001+05:30

I enter Crossword and am greeted by a mountain, and I am not joking, of red colored books stacked right at the entrance. Bang in the middle. I am wondering, who is this John Grisham who has launched a book, ‘cause I swear Rainmaker is the only other book I have seen stacked this way; and that too in a seconds only shop. And then on closer inspection, my wonderment is relieved – of course; it had to be him – Chetan Bhagat. Wonderment didn’t cease yet, one more made its way through: how come there was no hype about his new book?

Not that I am a fan, but this dude deserves a mention; don’t you think? While he is not Chef de Cuisine for connoisseurs with the literary buds he is certainly more than the average Commis when it comes to dishing out desi dishes to suit the masses; and pleasingly affordable at that. I mean, a McDonald’s a McDonald – but ask any Bombay-ite worth his salt and he would still prefer the vada-pav worth Rs. 5 than hog on to the more elite, high-soc and hygienic McVeggie for Rs. 22. Now, Chetan Bhagat hasn’t a repertoire that would make Bernard Shaw tremble in his grave, but he has sold probably more copies than all other non-award winning Indian authors put together – just like the roadside vada pav stall who sells thousands of vada pavs every day as compared to the feeble hundreds sold by McDonalds.

So, what is it that makes him sell, while the other Indian authors at best get a shelf space in Crosswords’ Best Sellers. He hasn’t the wit of a PG Wodehouse, not the zaniness of Douglas Adams, he isn’t half as gripping as Agatha Christie nor a master of thrillers like Robin Cook. He doesn’t even have the ability to write a page turner like Sidney Sheldon or John Grisham. Neither does he have the imagination of Tolkien nor the profundity of Rand. He is, at best, an average Joe when it comes to writing a novel. He was (is?) an investment banker in Wall Street, New York for heaven’s sake which would ideally take him as far away as writing as Shah Rukh Khan is from method acting. But he strikes gold. That is probably what he knows best, striking gold. What he has done is not excelled in writing, but he has excelled in positioning his books. He has got his basics of marketing right where it matters – Target Audience. He doesn’t muddle himself up with thoughts of awards and literary fame. He is modest – he wants to make money. So, he sits down and zeroes in on his audience. Students who have entered junior college, school students who are getting bored of Tinkle and find Hardy Boys too old fashioned, housewives who are yet to pick up a novel of any kind and a hundred other middle class people who find John Grisham’s novels second only to books of law and Jefferey Archer too difficult to follow. Now that he has the audience in mind, he has to price it so that they will buy it. He prices his books at one-half of the rate of any book worth its paperback cover: @ Rs. 95/- a piece. So, he has the audience and the price in place – now for content…

He has four books to his credit: his record breaking debut novel and also easily his best outing Five Point Someone (FPS), the hype of which was so much that the wave carried his next very average One Night @ the Call Center (ON@CC) to the best seller list. His third novel which tried to bring in India’s top 3 items on the ‘Things we are crazy about’ list; Religion, Politics and Cricket, together in one interwoven desi masala ‘The 3 Mistakes of my Life’ (3MML) sold lesser than the previous two – but IMO was much more fun than his ‘One Night..’. His most recent novel – the one that I picked from the mountain mentioned in the opening lines, is titled ‘2 States’ (2S) and is about how cross-state (love) marriages happen in India, IMO the worst book of his lot.

But focus on the topics he deals with – it isn’t individuality: Indians don’t know what that is, it isn’t murder mysteries: we would rather watch an Abbas Mastan movie, it isn’t history: who wants another controversy anyway, and in fact – it isn’t hardcore anything at all. Each of his books is a ‘love story’ ‘cause that is numero uno when it comes to selling entertainment. Right from Yash Chopra to Karan Johar, everyone has used this device with varying backdrops and they have sold movies (and how!) for more than 5 decades. So there is no arguing or denying that fact. Now, adorn a love story with backdrops: these have to be something that the middle class Indian desires every day – a better education (IIT in FPS, IIM in 2S), a job at the call center (ON@CC), a group of friends to hang out with (ON@CC), cricket, religion and politics (3MML) and a cross lingual marriage/ marrying the love of your life (2S again). At the core, there is a love story in each of his books which is painted on a canvas that carries one of the above mentioned backdrops which try to put up a façade so that the book doesn’t go down as yet another love story; now you wouldn’t want that, would you? So, there you are Chetan Bhagat deconstructed, you could write a best seller like you make one of those dishes Sanjeev Kapoor shows you every Sunday on Zee TV, can’t you?

1. Scan the book stores and see which section of the audience has been grossly ignored

2. Price your end product competitively, come what may

3. Write a love story, it maybe your own, your friends’, or even a one you have seen on TV

4. Create a background: choose one from cricket, education, poverty, politics – or to be on the safer side, have a little bit of everything

5. Interweave the love story in such a way that the focus is always on the backdrop – while ensuring that you are having the reader wish that the hero and the heroine get together

6. Tadaaa! You have a bestseller

So, jokes apart. Is it just that? Nope. It is much more. It lies in the narration – simple, uncomplicated and very, very ordinary. None, let me stress, not one of his words would make you go to the dictionary. Not one of his lines would make you read it again. Not one of his paragraphs would make the average reader want to put the book down. It is right there – simple and uncomplicated. You would feel like you are reading a story out of the 6th grade English textbook. But you aren’t – because he is also talking contemporary social issues - today’s issues. He is talking about making love in college dorms, he is talking, with rather political improperness, about Tamil-ians being dark-skinned and Punjabis wanting little more than Hyundai Santros for wedding qualification. He is talking about incorrect politicians in a riot torn Gujarat and ties cricket to religion. He does all this while pretending to be writing a love story. He talks about taboo and also about the taboo. But he checks himself. He doesn’t want controversies. He writes page long disclaimers pretending to be forewords. He doesn’t get too ambitious with his words or content.

He is happy playing a dumbed down writer. He doesn’t want to be in the Booker’s List. He would much rather go stale on the cover page of the book in the book shelves of a million Indian households. He is making a million readers who wouldn’t read, read. He is making housewives read. He peppers his books with his own sensibilities of the socio-economic conditions in India. He might just educate these readers in his own little way. Maybe this is the way he is doing his bit.

And writing not more than what he wants to tell, dancing his way to the banks. The middle-class writer.

This dude, doesn’t he deserve the mention?

Three Little Movies

2009-10-24T00:37:00.003+05:30

Just a random post. No reviews or anything - caught this movie called Freedom Writers today afternoon on HBO (It's not just TV. It's HBO) :P. And, I was reminded of 2 other such movies which I had liked. Both not too popular but within the small circle that has indeed seen the movie, you will find nods of approval.

One such movie is October Sky. Directed by Joe Johnston (Honey, I shrunk the Kids! and Jumanji), this little movie is about Rocket Boys; a bunch of school kids in a mining town determined to make their own rocket. Supported by a really supportive teacher Miss Reily (brilliantly played by Laura Dem), Homer Hickam, who after watching Sputnik vanish 'forever' into space on TV is inspired to build his own rocket. He forms a team, and starts off on his mission to launch his rocket; much against the wishes of his coal-mining father. Some trials and a lot of errors later, the team does launch it's own rocket. Based on a true life story, this is a real hope affirming, smile inducing movie that hopes to restore hope and optimism back to life. Homer and his team, after having erroneously launched their first rocket now have to perfect the craft if they were to enter the national science fair. Needless to say, they do enter it and the film ends well - with white letters on the screen telling us that Homer goes on to become an engineer with NASA.

The other movie is Pay It Forward. Another small movie which boasts of Kevin Spacey and Helen Hunt in significant roles. However, the movie is about Trevor McKinney (Haley Osment, of AI fame; son of Arelene, Helen Hunt) - a 12 year old kid, who despite a troubled family has hope in the goodness of the world. So, when his Social Sciences teacher Eugene (Kevin Spacey, looks stuck w/o a taut character sketch) gives the class a project that has the potential to change the world through direct action - Trevor sets himself onto the task. He meets a homeless guy and wants to help him, enroute which he formulates his concept of 'Paying it Forward'. There are 3 rules: (1) It should directly help a person (2) Something the person can otherwise not manage to do (3) You should do it for the person. And then, once done, the person receiving the help is supposed to help 3 others. It is simple. And before we know, we are drawn in by the films goodness. And though not really saddened by the tragic ending, the movie leaves behind a lingering feeling of us having the power of being able to change the world. Or at least some part of it.

The third movie, Freedom Writers, is again a movie which tells us anything is possible.Set in early 90s, in a racism-torn Los Angeles, the story revolves around Ms Erin (Hillary Swank, endearing in her role) who takes on her job as a teacher in a school which has launched an integration program to get students of all races in a class. She realizes on her first day at school that the set of students known as 'unteachables' are indeed so who need to be kept in class by security guards. There is an unfortunate accident which sort of anchors one of the girls in the class as the narrator and centerpiece. Slowly, but surely, Ms Erin earns the trust of all the students. She gives each one of them a copy of 'The Diary of Anne Frank' and encourages each to record their own past of abuses and victimization. The class slowly becomes a closely knit family. Students who barely attended school, now had hopes of graduating from their sophomore year to junior high. As a final year project, Erin has every student convert their diary into a book and calls the project ' The Freedom Writer's Diaries'.

There is nothing exceptional about any of these movies. The direction and acting is just about 'enough' to carry the movie through. The music isn't soaring, the photography isn't gripping. But each of the three are sincere movies, and by words or by action - the sincerity comes through. You feel good at the end of the movie. There is a lightness about the heart and a sense to do good. Not overtly inspirational, but it lingers on.

For quite some time.

Book | A Thousand Years of Good Prayers

2009-10-23T23:51:00.002+05:30

Given to me by a friend at 12:45 am after a nice dinner and some home made tea, this book is written by a Chinese author; Yiyun Li. This friend of mine is a fan of unknown little authors writing vague books. This particular one is a collection of 10 short stories, all set in China. I have read just 2 of them and am in love with the book. Focus of both the short stories have been common people in a changing China; and in both cases the protags are elderly people who are adapting themselves to a change from Marxism to Capitalism.

Stories revolve around everyday incidents in the lives of seemingly insignificant people. The narration is simple and doesn't build up to anything. The sweetness lies in the thought of the author - simple and stuff that we can relate to. In one of the stories, this old man finds a friend at the newly opened stock exchange. And to quote from the book,

"But perhaps this was what made old age a second childhood - friendship came out of companionship easily, with less self-interest, fewer social judgments."

That encapsulates today's times with such beauty; finding friends only to enrich your network. Social judgment is seen as an attribute.

Well, I haven't read the whole book to do a full fledged review; just wanted to share this. Will keep sharing such stuff as I go about the book.

Movie Review: Pulp Fiction

2009-09-13T10:54:00.002+05:30

“So you want to hear the Fox Force Five Joke?” she asks. “I am so petrified I couldn’t laugh” Vincent replies. “No you wouldn’t laugh anyway, ‘cuz it’s not funny. But if you want to still hear it, I will tell it”. “I can’t wait.” She goes ahead and tells him the joke – the very joke she was too embarrassed to tell only minutes ago.

Minutes ago, Vincent (John Travolta) and Mia (Uma Thurman) are sitting in a somewhat retro themed restaurant having dinner. Vincent, high on drugs, has to ensure that he sits ‘across the table’ from Mia (high on drugs, as well) because Mia is his boss’s (Marcellus’s) wife and he is out ‘not on a date’ but to keep her entertained. She says that what sets two people who know each other apart from a couple who don’t is that they can share comfortable silences. And to that, he says we don’t know each other that well yet – ensuring that the distance is maintained – especially when there are rumors going around about Marcellus pushing a guy off the balcony of the top floor of a 4-storeyed building because he gave Mia a foot massage. Mia ensures that the guy never gave her a foot massage and that the reason for the shove is known only to Marcellus and the guy. Vincent, still, like any sane man wouldn’t take risks. It is then he mentions her (Mia: Uma Thurman) role in a TV program pilot and she elucidates her character as one who tells an old joke every episode. He wants her to tell one and she is too embarrassed to tell it to a person with whom she can’t comfortable silences. But minutes later, they are back in her room – just finishing off a dance step and staring a moment too long at each other when Vincent asks her if this was the ‘comfortable silence’ she referred to. She doesn’t answer, and we are left thinking whether it was after all. Vincent is seen in the bathroom reminding self to be a gentleman – accept the drink, just one – and go home. A completely freak drug OD accident and adrenaline-stabbed revival follows, which by the way is one of the varied freakish incidents that adorn the movie. Both of them don’t want Marcellus to know. “I would be in as much danger as you” she says, clearly concerned. They promise not to utter a word. This stays between them. They share a secret. They have grown that bit closer. And she tells him the joke. She is no longer embarrassed.

The movie is made up of very real characters like Vincent and Mia, with attached eccentricities. Vincent can’t take curtness, Jules (Samuel L Jackson, brilliant) thinks he has witnessed the ‘hand of God’, Butch (Bruce Willis) would risk his life for his ancestral wrist-watch and Mr. Winston Wolf makes a 30 minutes drive in 9 minutes and 50 odd seconds. What is common to all characters though is the way they choose their words. Every character is defined more or less by their choice of words. Mr. Wolf is a friendly man, who if appears to be curt is because time is of essence – and once he likes you, you call him Winston – not Mr. Wolf. Mia does coke, is the wife of a gangster but wouldn’t use the f-word. Butch calls his lover Tulip which she likes, earlier having called her a ‘retard’ and taking that back. Characters indulge in dialogues, unerringly witty, that appear to beat around the bush but when they are finished you realize that they have made a point and also ensured that it is driven home well. Jules goes on to quote from the Bible in more than one instance about how every man’s duty is to guide the weak and if anyone deters it, the lord shall unleash his vengeance. When he goes on to a monologue with this quote, you continue hearing but tend to stop listening. You do not assimilate the gravity of the quote but are left with a feeling that the quote is really profound. And yet, when he quotes it for the 3rd time, right at the last scene, you listen very carefully. You get the import of what the quote has to convey. It is not just because you are hearing it for the 3rd time – but because the quote makes all sense to the character, Jules, only then too.

The story spans just over a day in the lives of these characters involved in quirky situations. We are even told the time, 7:22 in the am is when the ride starts and 11 in the am the next morning is when it ends. They hold little or no significance, none that adds any layer to the movie anyway. But we are informed about it nonetheless. The story itself unfolds in acts like in a play. But the acts aren’t arranged chronologically. The narrative is non-linear - peppered with unforgettable music bits along with some camerawork that underscores the director’s fetish for all things *pulp* titivating the lives of people who work for Marcellus. The narration is what sets it apart. It just isn’t reversed narration (like in Memento, which again is brilliant). It isn’t the typical ‘flashback’ narrative. It is non-linear; so much so that the last scene is not the last act, if you can differentiate between the two. The last scene is in fact the very first act – and yet is not a flashback. The movie opens at a roadside inn – with two small timers discussing ‘Nobody ever robs a restaurant – let’s do it; right now, right here.” It is where the movie ends too - with the unraveling of the first act and how it ends. What happens later is already narrated. Why, one of the characters is even dead – but yet, when the movie winds up act one – it is a happy ‘ending’.

Gangsters, Fixed boxing bouts, Double-crossing, Freak murders, a Homosexual act, Drugs, God, et. al. – Pulp Fiction is one zany ride. Pulp fiction is sheer entertainment.

News

2009-08-02T19:24:00.002+05:30

Well. Not really. No news. Just an observation, in fact.

I was watching the 8 o’ clock Tamil news yesterday. The lady happily chattering away in chaste Tamil. Or should I say, thooya tamizh? Anyway, I couldn’t get most of what she was saying - which made me wonder at least half the population, if not more would be people who do not fully/ easily understand the language in its purest form. At least not as easily as the spoken form. And, it is a fair assumption, I think that TV news should be more tuned to listeners who do not have access to other media like internet (due to cost), newspapers (due to illiteracy). In which case, speaking in thooya tamizh is just about the last thing to do. I mean, I am all for saving the language and all that - but seriously, not at the cost of it beating the very purpose of the medium used.

[Obviously, a similar argument should be read for Hindi/ Bangla/ and other languages too. Just a disclaimer, just to emphasize that it is the habit - of using language in such a way - rather than the people or the language itself which is under scrutiny]

This has occured to me earlier too - as in much earlier, when I was much younger and much sharper. At a time when I thought I would probably realise when I grow up and gather worldly wisdom, unlike the rolling stone. And yet I do not understand it today. Which obviously implies that I have grown up much like the rolling stone. Or have I?

Absolute Vanity

2009-07-31T00:13:00.001+05:30

1. I am not too crazy about fantasy movies. No, not even Lord of the Rings

2. I think Harry Potter is for kids. So is Superman, Spiderman, Hulk, Transformers, etc.

3. I liked Paheli, though. I thought it was a gutsy take and the movie didn't take itself too seriously. Come to think of it, I liked Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins and The Dark Knight

4. I like to argue. No. Heck. I love to argue. My friend Bomb (not his real name) thinks Amartya Senmust dedicate his Nobel Prize to me (for being the personification of an Argumentative Indian)

5. I vehemently disagree to that. I like to reason. Sometimes the reasoning is very fundamental - so fundamental that people tend to think I argue just for the sake. But I solemnly swear right here, right now that it is not the case. Argue. Reason. Know.

6. I do not argue. I discuss. No one looks at an argument as a discussion. That sort of puts me off. Once they run out of points - they get defensive and retort saying 'you are saying this just so that you win the argument'. And that is when I realize that the other guy/ gal is actually thinking we are into an argument.

7. I can't shut-up

8. I can't. No, really! I can't

9. I have no clue why I am rambling in points - but doesn't really matter does it.

10. I know this is how it is, and yet it surprises me that people form conclusions/ opinions just like that

11. I can't talk in rights and wrongs. I don't believe in them. I have my own theories, which people find to be really weird. They tell that to me all the time. And I continue to formulate new theories. So, people conclude that I like to be weird so I get noticed. As I told, people form conclusions/ opinions just like that

12. I understand this and have accepted this in life - once you get a boyfriend/ girlfriend - you change. End of discussion. I have accepted it. You too, must accept it. Do not see it as right or wrong. It will screw up one of two things - your friendships or your relationship

13. I suck at mastering anything. I can't stay put with any one thing.

14.I have views on religion. But not on politics. I think politics is a much abused word. And so is religion.

15. I believe god has nothing to do with Religion. And neither with spirituality

16. I think going to temple to worship god is sort of amusing. I mean, why preach god is everywhere and then specifically go to a temple to worship. Wait a min., if god is indeed the entity he is made out to be - do we need to worship him at all?

17. I think I am god. Not the Naan Kadavul types; I think more of Anbe Sivam types

18. I know this post is tending towards 'girlish' - but what the heck

19. I think there is a lot of hypocrisy around. That actually doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that the hypocrites are bothered by others' hypocrisy. Sort of freaks me out.

20. I had been to Australia. Good time there. And guess what - the only traces of racism I could feel against Indians was in Indians. I mea, you go to an Indian restaurant and see how the Indian waiters treat the white-skin and then see how you treat you!

21. I say, if my mother is dead against me marrying a girl from another community/ caste, she ain't got no right to talk foul about racism or communism

22. I am not going to marry. Ever. That's a declaration. I mean, what is the need for it?

23. I am happy, not gay. That is a declaration too.

24. I like the rains. In fact, I love them

25. I wonder why most people who read posts do not comment. I just checked my dashboard for the first time - it is pretty cool. Never knew it gave so many statistics. Anyway, my beach side stories - 1 has got over 2500 views (which is unbelievable) and only 2 comments (which is crazily unbelievable). I am not advertising/ publicizing or anything- just mentioning.

26. I never can read my own stuff again. I find it terribly boring. And I am not telling this just for the sake. I seriously can't read my own stuff. I never even used to cross-check my exam papers.

27. I, after having set such high standards, have read beach side stories -1 twice over. It is quite nice. Ok. Now I am publicizing.

28. I don't have a problem with people changing attitudes as long as they accept. Come to think of it, once you accept it I am fine with it

29. I know, that is how it is.

30. I loved the HitchHikers' Guide to the Galaxy (H2G2). It is hilarious. I seriously think it is influenced a lot by P.G. Wodehouse - only that the scale of craziness is a zillion times more

31. I wonder why none of the girls I know like H2G2

32. I wonder why girls like pink

33. I just realized that every single point in this post begins with 'I'. I am sure now that I have mentioned it, none of you would believe that this wasn't deliberate

34. I want to go sprinting in the mornings, cycling at nights

35. I want to learn swimming

36. I know writing long posts is the number 1 put off reason for the reader; but this aint as much for the reader

37. I think Nasseeruddin Shah is the best actor India has produced. I am a sucker for Nasseeruddin Shah movies

38. I never really liked Rahman till Duet was out. Today, I am a crazy Rahmaniac

39. I have been discovering Ilayaraja recently; err... discovering is a HUGE word. I don't know crap about music to say I am discovering or any such thing. But that's ok.

40. I am looking for a possible explanation for this - consider A and B. Both of them good people. Though one is better than the other, under the hypothetical possibility of scoring people over the other, say, B is better than A. Also, assume that all people know this for a fact. There are still people who like A. How? Or why?

41. I am one of them. Ok! I like Nadal over Federer. I like Ajit Agarkar. Let me stress, it is NOT the game I am a fan of. It is the overall package. And I can't explain that.

42. I haven't bought clothes for the past 9 years. Alright. Just once, when I had to join my first company in 2005 after engineering. I mean c'mon I didn't have formals at all.

43. I, when in Mysore during my initial training period in the first job, did not iron my clothes for the whole of 4 months

44. I haven't ever been really scared. The last time I was scared was in my dreams. Long ago.

45. I do not believe in ghosts - but deep inside wish I can meet one sometime

46. I think girls should, in the name of equal rights, protest against reservation for women in educational institutions. Or support the caste based reservations. Or at least not protest that.

47. I like places based on the food it has to offer. Vegetarian, spicy and loads of street food. In that order. Mumbai, Mysore, Pune, Delhi, Hyderabad - each of these places has great food. Chennai is the worst of all - with regards food.

48. I ask, and al I ask for is a little consideration

49. I love Mumbai for the precise reason you hate it. So, don't bother.

50. I think Gandhi absolutely rocked.

51. I possibly can't get more random than this

Sachin Tendulkar

2009-04-20T22:48:00.003+05:30

I am a fan; never bordered on the fanatic though. Quite frankly, as a boy I took to Azhar the first time I saw him play. I used to mime him ditto on the field, with the collar up and all that. I even used to field in the covers. During my stint as the captain for my society's cricket team, I used to take notes on Azhar's field set-ups and bowling changes and later try to analyze when he made bowling changes. Why he would not have a midwicket fielder for Kumble. And why he would keep changing the field. How he would not talk to his team much. How he would be non-chalant when a field change would work - as if he knew it had to! I was a fan, I think for the first time in my life.

Then came 1996. Theworld cup. Till then, Sachin was like the army. Azhar was the general. Come '96 and Sachin became THE MAN. I fear going into relentless, directionless rant if I start of with the world cup series. I had always liked him. Ever since he walked in with that wire-like frame in 1989. I still remember the smirk on Wasim's face as he measured his run-up. And that bouncer, my heart had skipped a beat. I had liked him that instant. I wanted to be wearing whites and walk into the ground one day. It seemed that if Sachin could, I could too. Then that innings against NZ - the first time he opened the innings in a ODI. He blasted 82 off some 48 deliveries. He had the NZ bowlers scratching their head as the ball soared over all parts of the boundary - Danny Morrison and Chris Pringle wondering what the hell just happened. Believe me - there was a Viv Richards and then a Kris Srikanth - batsmen who were known to belt the bowlers 'fearlessly'. But those who remember this innings, will know what I mean when I say Sachin had redefined fearlessness. Top notch shots. The straight defensive shot that he plays so subtly that you would think the ball would drop dead right there and you could see Pringles jaw drop as the ball sped past him, the stumps, the umpire and between the fielders at mid-on and mid-off. The next ball, pitched short by a well built Pringle to sort of intimidate the little guy. Our guy - all of 5'4" (with shoes on) dances down the track - yes, to a short pitched delivery, brings down the heaviest bat in business with arguably the shortest arms in business too and pulls the ball over mid-wicket (Oh! Yes! He had that sort of time) for a six. And yet, the best scene was that of Pringle wondering what just happened.

Phew. And I better not go into 1998. Sharjah and the history it holds. It was dinner time. I am a slow eater. And that night, I redefined slow eating as one man in the middle wast was redifining human abilities. I need not tell what happened in Sharjah. I now had a God. Someone who can be seen. Someone who can save India. Who can pull us out of trouble - no matter what. A god who exists.

There was this time where many used to say he wasn't the best. He wasn't a match winner. He wasn't in form. He had changed. And what not. Yet, when they were told to look at the numbers for the past 6 months or so - they could see an ODI average of over 40 with a strike rate of over 80. And a test average of over 50 with a strike rate near 60! When people used to criticize or doubt or question Sachin, a smile used to find its way to my lips. The sort of smile Buddha must have sported when people asked him if there were God. There have been innumerable number of blog posts and e-mail forwards I would have received, read and felt good about. Got one today too - from my brother. I have never really shared e-mail forwards in a blog post. But today, I have no clue why, I want to share this...

To all you guys out there, a partial compilation of comments given by random cricketers and other known personalities on Sachin Tendulkar ...

~!----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------!~

Hashim Amla - "Nothing bad can happen to us if we're on a plane in India with Sachin Tendulkar on it."

Yaseer Hameed - "Sometimes you get so engrossed in watching batsmen like Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar that you lose focus on your job."

Andrew Symonds - "To Sachin, the man we all want to be" (On an Aussie t-shirt he autographed specially for Sachin)

BBC - Beneath the helmet, under that unruly curly hair, inside the cranium, there is something we don't know, something beyond scientific measure. Something that allows him to soar, to roam a territory of sport that, forget us, even those who are gifted enough to play alongside him cannot even fathom. When he goes out to bat, people switch on their TV sets and switch off their lives "

But the finest compliment must be that bookmakers would not fix the odds - or a game - until Tendulkar was out

Wasim Akram - "Tuzhe pata hai tune kiska catch chhoda hai?" To Abdul Razzaq when the latter dropped Sachin's catch.

Brian Charles Lara - Sachin is a genius. I'm a mere mortal.

Mark Taylor - "We did not lose to a team called India...we lost to a man called Sachin"

M. L. Jaisimha - "The more I see of him the more confused I'm getting to which is his best knock."

McGrath - "The joy he brings to the millions of his countrymen, the grace with which he handles all the adulation and the expectations and his innate humility - all make for a one-in-a-billion individual,"

Anjali - "I can be hundred per cent sure that Sachin will not play for a minute longer when he is not enjoying himself. He is still so eager to go out there and play. He will play as long as he feels he can play,"

Hayden - "I HAVE SEEN GOD, HE BATS AT NO.4 FOR INDIA"

Kumble - I am fortunate that I've to bowl at him only in the nets!

Que: Who do you think as most important celebrity?
Shahrukh: There was a big party where stars from Bollywood and cricket were invited. Suddenly, there was a big noise, all wanted to see approaching Amitabh Bachhan. Then Sachin entered the hall and Amitabh was leading the queue to get a grab of the GENIUS!!

Navjot Singh Sidhu - India me aap PrimeMinister ko ek Baar Katghare me khada kar sakte hain..Par Sachin Tendulkar par Ungli nahi utha Sakte.. (You could take the PM of India to court - but can't raise a finger on Sachin)

Waqar Younis - He can play that leg glance with a walking stick also

A banner - 'I WILL SEE GOD WHEN I DIE BUT TILL THEN I WILL SEE SACHIN'

Allan Donald - Sachin Tendulkar has often reminded me of a veteran army colonel who has many medals on his chest to show how he has conquered bowlers all over the world

Allan Donald's interview:
I was bowling to Sachin and he hit me for two fours in a row - one through point and the other in between point and gully. That was the last two balls of the over and the over after that we (SA) took a wicket and during the group meeting I told Jonty to be alert and I know a way to pin Sachin. And I delivered the first ball of my next over and it was a fuller length delivery outside off-stump. And I shouted catch. To my astonishment the ball was hit to the cover boundary. Such was the brilliance of Sachin. His reflex time is the best i have ever seen. It’s like 1/20th of a sec. To get his wicket better not prepare. At least you won’t regret if he hits you for boundaries.

Peter Rebouck (Aussie Journalist) - On a train from Shimla to Delhi, there was a halt in one of the stations. The train stopped by for few minutes as usual. Sachin was nearing century, batting on 98. The passengers, railway officials, everyone on the train waited for Sachin to complete the century. This Genius can stop time in India!

NKP Salve (former Union Minister) - "Sachin cannot cheat. He is to cricket what (Mahatma) Gandhiji was to politics"

Andy Flower - There are 2 kind of batsmen in the world. One, Sachin Tendulkar. Two, the rest.

~!---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------!~

PS: The text above is a direct copy paste from the e-mail fwd. I have run a quick sanity check - but still, please bear with grammatical, spell errors, if any.

Movie Review: Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na

2009-04-12T21:53:00.003+05:30

I have always maintained, 'No story is a bad story'. It is just the way you narrate it. Once simplified, something as seemingly profound as a Fight Club or a Taxi Driver can be made to sound ridiculously silly. On the other hand, there is Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na, which try as you may - you can simply not narrate in an interesting way. Yet, when it is put on screen with a bunch of new comers leading the pack, it works. Things which in isolation would seem outdated and downright slapstick, stick together and are pulled off.

That is Abbas Tyrewala's directorial debut for you.

'You want to marry me?', she asks almost in disgust! 'Eew! No!', he exclaims in disbelief that she even thought that way. Just when she shows the slightest hint of relief he blurts out 'Do you want to marry me?' and she now shows the disgust that she earlier restrained. All this while her parents watch them in utter shock & disbelief. And then they start laughing. Sounds cheesy, right? Bland? Cliched, no? That's my point. And in spite of that the movie works. About 15 minutes into the movie I found myself taken to the movie as a child would to cartoons. Why would a child like cartoons? Because it is a place where things which otherwise do not talk, talk and more importantly it is fun. In a very similar way I loved this movie. It opens up in an unassuming way, slowly growing on the viewer. Never, thankfully, never does the movie take itself too seriously. The director knows that the movie is about having fun - and just that. Later in the second half, I was almost praying that, the drama shouldn't go over the top. In some scenes, it does - specially with Genelia and her fiance.

But that's alright. Because there is so much fun packed in the rest of the movie. I went in to the hall to watch this movie only for two reasons; one - Aamir Khan productions. In the sense, I much rather miss a good 'Jab We Met'/ 'Socha Na Tha' once a while than go and blunt my mind watching the hundred others with hunky guys and sweet looking girls. Which brings me to reason number two - neither was the guy hunky, nor the girl too stereotyped. Besides, it had 'Kabhi Kabhi Aditi' and 'Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na' in it. One, an insanely catchy tune while the other one of the finest tributes to Jazz (Let's call the whole thing off). And such good fun.

Abbas's direction is nuanced. In the sense, he has an eye for details. Check out the dance sequences - where Aditi (Genelia) removes her pencil-heeled shoe before she steps on to the dance floor (Pappu can't dance) or where Rotlu (a friend) dances out of sync after Jai (Imran) elbows him in Kabhi Kabhi Aditi. The allusion to Mr. Godot is a tip to a classic play 'Waiting for Mr. Godot' and in fact is Naseeruddin Shah's debut play. I found it neat that the brother has a mouse for his pet and the sister, a cat. And then, there is a cat and mouse game that they play in between them, and right out of a Tom and Jerry episode, they also make up. The one single scene which talks so much about the brother-sister relationship. The way Aditi mouths 'What the F%^k?!' when she sees her brother's room for the first time. When Aditi innocently remarks 'I don't know where and how the last 5 years went by' Ratna Phatak Shah is delightfully funny in retorting with 'On the phone, my child! On the phone.' The poster in Jai's room that screams - 'Deadlines Amuse Me' and that it is the very deadline against which he races in the climax. All these and some more. And it is in these small packages that the movie delivers.

The performances are just about right - well, I did not find Imran brilliant or too natural. But he is likeable. Genelia carries most of the film on her. The support cast either underperforms or overperforms - but that imparts a sense of realism in the movie than actually hamper a scene. Paresh is at ease and Naseeruddin Shah has fun in the little time he has been given. The Khan brothers (Sohail and Arbaaz) have a cameo - quite well woven into the sub-plot. And for once, they do not irritate. Music is simply mind-blowing as you may expect from Rahman - tailored to fit the movie to the tee. Camera and editing are quite unimaginative - but the pace of the movie and freshness that oozes out of the narrative quite covers up for them.

Well, the movie also has one of the 'safest bet' endings of Hindi cinema - Heroine leaving country and hero stops her at the airport - at the last moment, of course. But then the build up to this climax will tell you that it is not a safe-bet move by the director. It is instead a parody, of sorts, in a way a tribute to the Hindi movie climax of yore. While the romance track is the focal point - it is the refreshingly cartoonesque context to Jai and his family which keeps the gear up. Naseeruddin Shah (God, is there a role that could challenge him?) is rib ticklingly funny as the dead father who speaks to his wife Ratna Phatak through his portrait (a la Hum Paanch?). I wouldn't spoil the movie for y'all here - but watch out for the storyline that is built in parallel and how it blends to lead up to the climax.

ScribeFire

2009-04-10T19:31:00.001+05:30

This is cool. Now I can post blogs run-time. No more opening new windows and logging in and going to the 'New post' page! Phew! Over and above this, it gives me a 'Preview' option to see just how the entry would look in my blog page. Whoa! Rich.

Blog away to glory. Blogspot and other blogging sites are blocked at office. Let's see how they stop this. Hio ha ha!

Movie Review: Firaaq

2009-04-05T21:08:00.001+05:30

'Such movies should not be made when it is peace time!' ~Mom
'How come they release such movies just before the elections?' ~Friend 1
'Pure exploitation. People suffered, yaar and these people want to make money out of it...' ~Friend 2

This is what happens when you do not watch the movie before your environment does. Rare occasions these, where I get so many opinions. All hinting at the same thing - yet another riot movie. So there I was, almost 2 weeks since the movie released and already put off by these comments. The only factor that would tickle my decision making faculties was the fact that it marks Nandita's debut as a director. They finally decided to give a nod ahead.

And what a good decision it was. What a movie – I was totally blown away. The movie is much similar in thought and intention as a Mumbai Meri Jaan (or a Parzania even) - to some extent in treatment as well. But, I felt this movie was tighter in narration and notches better in direction. Where a Mumbai Meri Jaan ropes in some amount of commercialism in the form of heavy dialogues and light humor, or a Parzania grips you by showing explicit scenes of rioting, Firaaq revels in subtlety. The plot drives the movie – no story with a start and a finish – is a day; yes, just one day; in the lives of 10-12 people 1 month after the shameful riots in Gujarat. It talks about people in varying age groups from various strata of the society both economically and socially and their ‘day in the life after riots’. Much like Mumbari Meri Jaan - where the director quite nicely portrays the lives of ordinary Mumbaikars after 7/11. Firaaq talks about a young Muslim couple from a lower economic background who have their house burnt, a Hindustani classical singer (lost in his own world refusing to accept the existence of evil) with a loyal helper and a (Hindu) doctor who also forms his only audience, a higher middle class Hindu-Muslim couple, a set of 4 Muslim friends from the botttom social strata, 2 friends - a Hindu girl and a Muslim gir, a Gujju couple and a common friend & of course the little boy through whose eyes we quite start seeing the movie in the latter half.

Where a Mumbai Meri Jaan leaves us with a communally unbiased taste, Firaaq concentrates on the minority group and its suffering, much like Parzania. Time and again the question of ‘Why not cover Hindu’s losses’ is raised; both by the characters in the movie and by our minds in the audience - and Nandita puts a stop to all such questions when one of the character mentions – ‘Yes, our losses – covered by insurance!’ While not all might agree to that statement, I thought the statement in itself is much loaded.

With little or no background score, the onus was on squarely on the director, actors and the cameraman to build tension. All of them do it with ease and élan. Nandita has got her touches in quite a few scenes and certain frames stick to the mind like photographs, long after the movie is over. Not a single riot scene is shown, though the opening sequence is quite bold. Yet, throughout the 2 hours Nandita is able to maintain the tension amongst the audience. The curfew due to a possible riot that evening is shown – and you find yourself just short of gripping the arm of your chair. The scene where a set of young and inflamed Muslims see the pistol for the first time - they place it on a table and gather around it like little children to marvel at the newfound symbol of power. The childlike glint in each eye is superbly captured. The touch lies not here - but in showing the little kid walking across them in the background as if to contrast the blisfully ignorant child's mind to the power-corrupt minds of the youth. The closing scene where the child go backs to the camp, refusing to take part in a game of marbles and taking his seat near Nasser, each looking once at each other, and then the camera zooms in to the child's face as it begins to accept the new changed life is a beauty. The movie is punctuated with profound and poignant dialogues. There is this wonderfully crafted dialogue where Tisca Chopra says 'Our life is packed in boxes...' which seems like a nod to the famous 'Life is a box of chocolates'. Then there is Nasseruddin Shah exclaiming 'The giver (God) is blind!' And, these dialogues bewarned wouldn't come with crescendo backed music or be preceded with pregnant silences. They would be spilled out in the most obvious manner - like you or I were to be in their shoes.

Where in a screen time of 120 minutes one chooses to fit in an array of powerhouse performers - most established directors would struggle to do justice to each. And this is one area where Nandita decides to let the narrative decide. And what a touch of class this move turns out to be. Barring Nasser, each one of the actors shares near equal screen time and establish their characters effortlessly in less than half a minute. Tamil actor, Nasser – one of the most irrationally underused and wasted actors of all time, is seen in a delightful 2 scene cameo – opening and closing. Performance wise – almost everyone comes up aces. Paresh Rawal, Nasseruddin Shah seem to be doing a daily chore while portraying the respective character – excelling in a delightfully non-chalant way. Sanjay Suri essays a character which, if the budget permitted, would have been bagged by Madhavan. Raghuveer Yadav is brilliant in his little character, as is Dipti Naval as the troubled soul. The young Muslim couple is the only underfit (not a misfit, mind you, they were sincere and in any other assembly would have been stand out - but here they fade) amongst this ensemble of brilliant performers. Due credit to Sreekar Prasad who has edited the movie in as crisp a fashion as seen ever. Not a single moment of wasted screen time. Nandita, in yet another display of amazing maturity makes a brilliant film making decision; she restrains from interlocking the lives of the plot holders leading to a high tension climax, which I thought added much more realism while compromising on the masses. The emotions are under check - and the result is a most objective display of a 'work of fiction - inspired by a thousand true stories!'

Overall – for its many moments and freshness in spite of being a follower to Parzania and MMJ; Firaaq stands on its own. It is not as hard hitting as a Parzania. It doesn't have the national/ mass appeal of a Mumbai Meri Jaan. It has its share of charm - not in conten - but in style.

Into the night we all go
Troubled minds and bags
Life as we know, no longer so

Little faces wake up with a grin
The scar from yesterday fades
A new life begins!

Book Review: Waiting for the Mahatma

2008-11-04T00:25:00.003+05:30

RK Narayan is best known for putting life into the small town that is Malgudi. And within its perimeters he is a master.He could dissect the daily details to nuanced perfection and (if you are a South Indian) you are transported right into the small household on Kabir street. Such is his narration and attention to (otherwise neglected) details. But, that is when he is talking about Swami and his friends. Or say about small town people and their daily chores.

Here, the canvas he has chosen is much wider. The characters he tries to sketch are itching to take a form much larger than routine. The circumstances are such. The backdrop is political. And he tries to set a love story in it.

Read more...

Movie Review: Fashion

2008-11-03T18:11:00.000+05:30

It was Page 3 revisited sans the powerhouse performance and the punches packed in. Nothing special in this 'trying to be gritty' tale about how a Chandigarh di Kudi becomes a diva and after seeing the 'highs' falls hard to the lows - and how!

Read more...

Ab 'Bus' bhi karo...

2008-10-26T17:56:00.000+05:30

OK! I just can't get enough of the MNS saga.

Enough said and written about the 'Spirit of Mumbai'. Now it's time to show the Spirit of Malegaon. Just wondering...where the spirit was on September 8, 2006.

Bachao! Help!

2008-10-26T17:54:00.000+05:30

Ironical. I plan to visit Bombay (my home) in December and as there seems to be a vacancy; does anyone know how do I apply for Z-security?

IT Capital?

2008-10-26T17:52:00.000+05:30

So much for being the IT capital of the world ...

Ranked 48th out of the 66 participating countries - In other words, we are still considered a 'cost-effective' center rather than any of the 'value partner' centric proposition that every SWITCH company is claiming to be..

Round sourcing?

2008-10-26T17:50:00.002+05:30

Now this is interesting... round-sourcing, eh?! Just when we think the exploitation-raj of off-shoring is over, here comes a new term... 'Round-Sourcing' ... "Enna koduma saar idhu"

Anyway - the good news is this. We are now not being seen by the United States as offshore vendors, but also as placement partners. We are moving up the value chain, I would say!

Oil Price set to rise again...

2008-10-26T17:41:00.002+05:30

Due to some reason, oil prices are set to shoot up!

Back to Movies

2008-08-18T01:47:00.006+05:30

Yes! Have been so out of movie watching ever since Chennai happened. A total of only 5 movies in the past 25 days! Anyway. Signed up with BIG Flix. They are super cool - quite a few firsts on offer. For starters:

1. They offer free pick-up and drop services - no conditions apply!
2. There is NO* time limit on CDs/ DVDs <* - except for new releases which are in high demand; that I guess is only fair>
3. They have a very comprehensive collection - and they promise to keep growing

You could queue your movies online or walk into any of their outlets and drop and pick a movie. And did I forget that users of ICICI credit/ debit card are getting a good 40% off for the next 3 months! Now THAT was a buy in for me!

I have already gone 2 up in two days. Khuda Kay Liye - long in waiting. Very nice movie. Kabuliwalai - yes the 1961, Balraj Sahni starrer. If you haven't seen it - you are probably missing something. Awesome performance by the protagonist and mind blowing songs from Salil Choudhary!

Anyway. Have queued up some 20 odd movies which I plan to sweep up before end of next month. I am on a roll!

Enjoy!

It's time to Clean-up, Marshal!

2008-08-11T20:07:00.007+05:30

Now this is a 'neat' idea! A friend and I had discussed about this 7 or 8 years ago, when the Ghatkopar police had collected heavy fines for smoking/ tobacco chewing in public places. Apparently, the campaign died an eventual death as bribery reared its ugly head. It was then, as young lads of 15 that we had discussed about delegating this job to volunteer kids for two reasons.
1. Most do not have to shoulder familial responsibilities; they aren't the primary earning members anyway
2. They would actually do it in the right spirit and take pride in the job they do

What better, the BMC is finally doing it! The article says...

Next time you litter, do not be surprised if a youth walks up to you and slaps a fine on you. And if you act tough and refuse to pay up, you might just end up doing community service. If you refuse that too, be prepared to cool your hoity-toity heels behind bars.

The BMC on Friday gave around 2,000 student volunteers the powers of a clean-up marshal. It means that they too can fine litterbugs.

They have even been given cool names: 'Clean-up Marshals'. They move in groups - for safety, of course. And add to that an authorized security personnel. Students get to earn their own pocket money - a social responsibility is bred and a huge amount of civic sense incorporated. Extend this to other areas. Pay for performance. And see how the world changes.

On this note - Pune, you flaunt arguably the country's biggest student density - my bets are on it being an immaculate success if launched in Pune. Whatsay, Pune?

Caw Caw Black Crows

2008-08-11T07:39:00.004+05:30

This link, linked me to this link. Both the links essentially talks about how other intelligent creatures are seldom respected for what they are. Crows. They have been traditionally loathed for being black and having a really irritating voice, second only to Himesh-bhai some say.

Actually, traditionally we have acknowledged its intelligence. Really. Have you ever wondered why the Jataka tale should have had a crow dropping stone to drink water from the pot? I mean - we could have had the enviably adored peacock. The nosy parrot or even the other overly eulogized black bird - the mynah. But no - our 'thathas' and 'paatis' chose the crow. And I will tell you what, after watching this video I feel the crow and the water-stone story is based on 'real life incidents'.

Crow on.

My wife would be the luckiest girl...

2008-07-27T17:58:00.005+05:30

No! I am not married - and my current stance of no marriage for me, stands. But the above is what a 'kili joshiyar' (parrot-astrologer, to be literal) told me!

Kili-joshiyars (explained before, KJ from now on) are people who sit by the roadside (or in beaches as was the case) with a couple of parrots generally named Meenakshi/ Lakshmi or such-like. They have a set of cards, with a divine photo on one side and then some (coded) stuff on the other, which would shortly read out what your near future holds in store. They then call out the parrot and ask it to pick up a card for us. They keep talking to the parrot, while smartly signaling with his hands to the parrot to get a card. (Shhh! They don't know that we know about this - so in case you go to the KJ anytime please don't spoil the fun!)

Anyway. A friend and I were walking on the beach by my residence here in Chennai, and we saw this dude on the beach. Another guy was already hearing this man out as he was reading out from a book. After knowing that he is going to be filthy rich in some years, and that he shouldn't wed another woman in the near future - he mocked at the exercise and left. So, I rolled my sleeves, and totally geared up for my turn.

'What's your name?'

'Abinav'

'Age?'

'24'

Then he calls out the parrot and does the routine! Then opens the card, opens the relevant page and says stuff in Tamil which is almost beyond my comprehending ability. But, the gist was this -

1. I would be traveling abroad soon. It would be immensely profitable and I should not miss the chance.
2. I am a good boy and would make my parents proud.
3. Of course! My wife would be the luckiest girl.

Doesn't sound too bad, eh?

Is it justified?

2008-06-30T21:52:00.003+05:30

"So, will you accompany us to hunt tomorrow?", he asks her extending the invitation given to Saket Ram.

"No. No! I am a vegetarian.", she says reminding her husband Saket who retorts saying he is vegetarian too.

"We do not hunt to necessarily eat. Just for fun. Entertainment for us humans.", says Shriram Abhyankar entering into the car.

"So, if animals hunt us down for their entertainment, is that acceptable?", she asks Shriram. Saket interrupts saying, "For that, the animals need to 'invent' guns first."

Almost ignoring what Saket said, she asks Shriram "So, if a wolf takes your child away for fun, is it justified?"

With a passive aggression in his eyes, he replies "That, one could say only if he were a wolf."

The moral correctness of it would depend whether you are the human or the wolf. Does it not?

For this and more, do watch Hey Ram, one of my all time favorites directed and performed by Kamal Hassan. The movie has been cut, slit and taken to parts for analysis here.

Bachao! Bachao!

2008-06-28T14:02:00.005+05:30

Oh man! It is proving an awesome entertainment means for me - the daily newspaper. I never thought reading news was so much fun! In metros like Mumbai, where the media coverage is so wide and almost exhaustive, all you have to do to get your share of fame is to be there - right place, right time! Believe me, if a lizard can, you can too! Now if you are done laughing - does it not occur to you that we are hopelessly helpless when panic strikes.

I believe, fear, second only to smile, is the most contagious human behavior on earth. But, it also needs people who are calm and composed to think things out. And when a woman is screaming for help - all the commuters deserting the station, the past bomb blasts notwithstanding, baffles me. Would it not be instinctive to offer help to a woman screaming for help? Oh damn! I forgot - people have better things to do than saving a woman. If she is saved, how could we possibly showcase the Spirit of Mumbai, right?!

Amma - you will have to wait

2008-06-28T13:37:00.005+05:30

Arrgh - I thought I would buy my mom the new iPhone, with its oh-so-affordable pricing. With the manufacturing cost of the handset was quoted at less than USD 170, Steve Jobs in his Keynote had surprised the world with the piece's pricing. But it seems, the USD 199 price tag was the subsidized (by AT & T) rate in the US. Both Vodafone and Airtel (partners of iPhone in India) declined quoting the price or offering subsidies. And that of course is understandable, ARPU of telecom companies in India is already the lowest; so no margins there for both Vodafone and Airtel. Whatever be the case, it looks like it is not going to be USD 199 anymore! [:(]

And for anything more than that, amma will have to wait until August at least - for by then I would have saved enough! [:)]

Why would they...?

2008-06-28T02:08:00.004+05:30

No, seriously! Does anyone know why exactly are they doing this? No mockery. No sarcasm. I am very serious. Almost innocent. Reservation - just for the heck of it? Guess now, caste is a given. Post is the new debate!

Whatever! It doesn't seem to be vote bank politics anymore. More of an obsession I guess. So, the HRD minister wakes up in the morning - 'So, what's for reservation?!'. Anyway, if someone does have a sound reasoning, theory, story - please do let me in on it.

I am only a child...

2008-06-27T20:53:00.005+05:30

A child, only 13 years of age, silenced many a UN representatives with her short 5 minute speech at the UN summit.

While the speech clearly (?) seems to be written by some one else and read out loud by the child - it does make a couple of honest appeals. Opening the speech with a mock at governments and corporates across the globe - as also the UN Summit itself - the child says on fear of losing its future

Losing my future is not like losing the elections or losing a few points in the stock market.

Going further the girl appeals to all asking them to stop polluting. 'I am only a child; but...' is what makes the speech so effective. Children are not knowledgeable about the various problems and their solutions. But the children do know that there are problems. And it is becoming increasingly apparent to them that we adults have no solution. Though contradictorily, it is we who seem to believe that there is (will be) a solution to everything. Then why aren't we able to stop the black hole, why aren't we able to do anything about the animals that are now extinct?

If you don't know how to fix it, please stop breaking it!

begs the little girl in front of a now intently listening UN audience.

The speech even tackles the topic of increasing disparity between the poor and the rich - not at an individual level but globally. The North American countries which have so much in abundance seem to share so little or nothing with those starving in the South. They interviewed street children in Brazil where one of the boy of around the same age said that one day he wishes to be rich and buy food, clothing, shelter and education for all the children living in the street. Then the girl asks -

Why is that the child in the street who has nothing ready to share everything, whereas we who have everything are ready to share nothing! It makes a tremendous difference where you are born!

Little does she realize that it is because we have everything that we share nothing. Anyone, almost every person if asked would be ready to share a car which he doesn't own but not part with a shirt he owns! 'I am ready to share everything that I do not have!' said someone!

There are things that make 'human development' seem a farce.

Oh My God!

2008-06-26T11:40:00.004+05:30

Would you book a house in a building built by someone who is not an architect by profession? No? If the 'architect' is from Italy? No? And what if the building were in Dubai? Still, no? The Tax holiday doesn't help? Ok - now what if it is an 80 floor skyscraper? Before you say another NO - let me add this - every floor of this giant can rotate.

I know, I know! You are now sitting mouth-wide-open and thinking of reasons to cover up the fact that you wouldn't be able to afford even a square foot in that tower; let alone buying an apartment. I will help you on to it. Power - the world is facing a power crisis and these guys want power to drive the whole turn the whole building around? Argh! Bad boys - money wielding bad boys! How could you ever buy an apartment which wastes so much power when people in villages of India do not get light in the night to change clothes? Right? Wrong - first get up and switch the light off - it is broad daylight and you don't need tube-lights - the entire mechanism is to be driven by giant wind turbines placed in between floors. Sounds crazy, but that is what the article says.

A couple of other crazy facts, in case you aren't planning to read the article:
1. Penthouses can make their house twirl around at their wish and (voice) command. They also have access to lifts, which can help them park their cars - inside their apartment garage!
2. Each floor is going to be built in Italy and shipped to Dubai - to save on labor, construction cost and time.

Phew! Well - the entire building is to cost USD 700 million as against Mukesh Ambani's 27 storeyed mansion which would cost USD 2 billion! SO much for India being a low cost center!

Yawn! Are we there yet?

2008-06-26T04:09:00.005+05:30

Yes. Yawn it is. It is 04:09 am and just as I was planning to shut my laptop and going off to my cozy little bed - the Times of India reported some (nearly) dangerous consequences of sleeping! Apparently, the Air India flight from Dubai via Jaipur bound towards Mumbai crossed Mumbai and was well on the way towards Goa, when the ATC (finally) managed to wake the pilots up! In their defense, they worked overnight and long enough to have deserved the nap.

With India needing hundreds of pilots in the immediate future, pilots from all over the world are pouring in. Of course, they opt for the private sector basically because of the pay and also the unavoidable shame that they might have to face on mentioning 'I work with Air India!'. So if anyone asks you for a reason you prefer not to travel by Air India - you can give them three:
1. The Air-Hostesses send their grandmothers to work
2. The food is brought in a couple of days too late
3. The pilots get to sleep, and I don't

In case they aren't sleepy; there are chances that they are indeed drunk.

So, next time you are flying in to Bombay from anywhere north on an Air India/ Indian Airlines flight - you might as well reserve that trip to Goa that you had your missus waiting on - just in case the pilot is asleep. Or, to Hyderabad for some pearl shopping - in case he is drunk. Oh! Wait! Or is it Vishakapatnam?

Hio ha ha!

2008-06-25T21:03:00.003+05:30

Seems, Thackerays are no ~~Bombay~~ Mumbai-ites themselves. They had come in for the lure of job and money. Just like the thousands of north Indians are today. Wow! Now this makes me wait. All you moms out there - this might prove way too interesting! Yes, yes, better than all those 'K'-soaps!

Wonder what the Thackerays would say about this.

Bombay, Cosmopolitan (?)

2008-06-25T16:59:00.006+05:30

Seems, the Bombay (Now, Brihanmumbai) Municipal Corporation will now converse in Marathi, only! And what if I do not know Marathi? I have just one question - Why?

If this is in any way an effort to revive Marathi as a language then I pity the meager imaginative abilities of those involved. If this is politically backed - then Ha! If this is (yet) another MNS folly, then God save Bombay!

Oh! India!

2008-06-25T15:44:00.004+05:30

So, this is India for you. You have the popular 'Bade Miyan' dishing out Biryanis and Bhurjis late at the night right behind the super expensive Taj Mahal Palace Hotel in Bombay. And then you have the famous road-side stalls of Bhel Puris and Pav Bhajis of the Juhu Chowpatty less than half a mile from the oh-so-happening JW Marriot, again in Bombay.

Not just Bombay, but even the expensive Connaught Place in Delhi is fraught with chana-bhatura stalls as also is the famous India Gate a couple of miles from the Parliament House. So, is the case with Chennai's Mount Road and Hyderabad's Banjara Hills. In fact, this is one reason I believe which makes India (the urban one) so live-able in spite of the otherwise inexplicable cost of living - which seems to be purely dictated by the supply-demand curve rather than any value for the money involved.

But to take pride and enjoy in such extremities is one thing. And living in a country which mints millionaires at the same time when more than 60 million children in the live without basic health-care, is quite another. And the government mulls over N-deal and its effects on elections!

I think ...

2008-06-23T10:37:00.003+05:30

Just yesterday my Amma was, keeping in character with the typical Indian, complaining about the bad roads while not even knowing whom (exactly) to blame. Then, of course, there is the One who is at the receiving end of all agonies - the one word without a definite, fleeting if at all, face - the Government (state or central, no one's really sure). Stating that if at all we as citizens think of setting one aspect of the life right, there is something (else) going wrong (elsewhere). And she ended the complaint with a rhetoric sigh, 'When will all this be set right?!'

'25 years hence!' I said almost surprising myself. She looked at me, with the looks she generally preserves for highly respected swamis in her circles, with wonderment as if I just spelled out a prophecy of some kind. I knew it was upon me to react - lest she go claiming 'Bete ke shareer mein baba-ji aaye!'

So, for the betterment of humanity and also to save myself the embarrassment I continued - 'See amma, the current crop of politicians and general government 'servants' are those who had their youths in the 60s or 70s, much like you and dad. And then, the environment wasn't too good. These guys in the admin now are from the much distraught Nehruvian and post-Nehruvian era. I mean, the independence just been gained. The economy still socialist in nature. A lot of red-tapism. Bureaucracy. None of them - almost - are inherently open to capitalism or the new global economy. If there are any, there are a whopping number who have their doubts about this. The thoughts in the society are not liberal enough. In 25 years, it will be our (generation's) turn. I think (secretly pray and hope) it would be much different then.

We (the 'now' generation) are more open to IT systems, understand the importance of a corruption free society. Understand the importance of time and more importantly speed.' And such (over) optimist suggestions which would suit either hypothetical situations or give a new (?) movie script for Shankar to make!

Note: Of course, the human need for 'POWER' can not ever be satiated but the means to the end would improve for the better, is what I imply. After all, in a broad sense, has not humankind 'graduated' from wars and (world) conquerors, (debate deferred to a different space, please) for manifestation of power?

Celebrating Failure (?)

2008-06-23T01:43:00.006+05:30

Only 3 days ago I had drafted a post on how I would like education to be. And it was heart warming to read this article in Times of India.

The article starts with:

Me and my students do not bother ourselves with reservations and such-like.

says Kantibhai Visava, a tribe who runs a school of a different kind. He says

Kids here don't even get an entry into school, the question of colleges doesn't arise at all!

I am not sure to what extent this would work; but am confident as hell this would make the kids a whole lot better than what the traditional system produces anyway.

The most heartening portion is where Visava quotes with a sense of joy that the cut-off for entering school for a certain grade was 60% and one of his students made it up to 59%!

In fact, its singular success is a narrow failure. This April, 35 students sat for the 6th-standard entrance exam to the government-run Eklayva model residential schools. "Their cut-off percentage was 60 and one of our students almost made it with 59 per cent... after only two years of schooling," says Devy. "And when I prove that our children can compete equally with state-level students, I will go to the ministry of education, campaign for this model and demand that the number of school years be reduced as well. My aim, after all, is not just to educate a small number of tribals but to improve the education system on the whole.

Only hoping that the sincerity in his last sentence stays on! All the best!

Note: I had drafted the previous post and published it just today after reading the article in ToI, so here you go - Education, as I would like

And who is to curb this Terrorism...

2008-06-21T14:07:00.006+05:30

Going by the definition here and a Canadian scholar's view, what else can you possibly call the Sikh community's actions in Mulund and some other areas of Thane? Or what, for that matter, would we call the Sena's - both the one which defames Shivaji (Shiv Sena) and Maharashtra (Maharashtra Navnirman Sena) - actions in the past! Guess it is time to wake the ATS up.

And on this same note I wonder, if any Muslim community has done this so regularly in India - and if at all they did - would they be tolerated as much as the aforementioned!

And we are a secular state nonetheless. Oh! The undoings of a democracy.

Disclaimer: This post is not for or against any religion or community as am I not for or against any community. In most cases it is the foolhardiness of an insignificant portion of the community involved. And it ends up defaming the community as a whole at times. And it is these very people against whom sterner action, if at all, has to be taken. In any case I can't see a reason why my life should be at risk; or anyone person or a group be disrupting my routine life in general.

Ab Tak 6

2008-06-21T01:11:00.006+05:30

Pardon the hmmpf-that-was-cheesy title to the blog! But you would see that the relation warrants the cheesiness - at least serves as a decent excuse!

Yes! I was shown the White Gloved hand to the side of the road yet again the other day. And that took the count to 6 (Hence the title. See I told you I had a decent excuse). This time, it wasn't my fault (Yes. Yes. I know. I know. Har khooni yehi kehta hai ke usne khoon nahi kiya and all that). Anyway.

It so happened that my centuries-old Maruti 800 decided to conk off. No no. That was not the problem. The problem was that it took this decision right in the middle of a chauraha (crossroads) and off went the signal. So, Mr. Pandu dutifully signaled me, once my car started, with his White Gloved hand and showed me the side of the road.

Pandu: What were you doing?
Innocent Me: (Oh! This is something I always wanted to do. I was feeling too left out, so what better way to attract some attention.) Car conked off.
P: (Showing much concern. At his empathizing best...whilst taking my license) Tchh...tch! Hard luck!
IM: Sir, seriously. It wouldn't start. I can show that again. Some problem that developed just a few minutes ago. (Truth sometimes seems so unbelievable)
P: Tch. Hard luck!
IM: Sir, Promise! (Ya right! No mother-promise? Ok! God-promise?! Who am I kidding?!)
P: (Eyes me, from head to toe - and smirks. I have no clue what he is thinking though)
IM: (Makes the innocent-most face possible)
P:Ok! Pay and Go!
IM: But sir... (Oh! Forget it. Guess, hard lunk it is!) Ok! How much do I pay?
P: How much ever...
IM: But sir, receipt would be for?
P: (Hmmph... incorrigible fellow!)Go! Get your papers.
IM: (Oh! $#@#$) Sure.
IM: (Went to the glove box. Took the pouch that neatly holds all the papers.) Here you go, Sir!
P: What would I do with these?
IM: But sir...
P: Take out the insurance and PUC papers.
IM: (Oh! $#@#$) Sure. Here you go.
P: What is this?
IM: Sir, insurance, right?! (Freak! I had it.)
P: Yes. But it is expired.
IM: (I am not a bad actor, but it looks really cheesy saying...) What???!!! Oh! I did not know sir. Actually I wasn't in India for the past year. (Allow me to repeat - Truth sometimes seems so unbelievable.)
P: So - I now pardon your Rs. 100 for crossing the signal.
IM: Thank you, Sir!
P: And gift you this ticket worth Rs. 1100
IM: What???!!!
P: Rs. 600 for insurance and Rs. 500 for PUC, both expired
IM: Oh! Damn...
P: Unless...
IM: (Freak - there he goes again.) Unless?
P: (Handing over my license to me...Oh! Yes!) You could pay less and get away, you know?
IM: Oh! Thanks a lot, sir.
P: So...
IM: So...?
P: How much are you going to pay?
IM: How much am I supposed to pay?
P: Hmmpf. How much can you pay?
IM: How much am I going to get a ticket for?
P: (Under his breathe) $#@#$!
IM: Sir?
P: Give me your license for a minute!
IM: (Oh! No.) Here sir.
P: Don't you understand?
IM: Sir?
Bystander: Hey mister! Give him whatever you have; and be set free - Rs. 100 at least!
IM: Oh! Sir! (As if it just dawned upon me) Actually, I have only Rs. 150 and I have to get some medicines for my mother (Yes! I actually said that - hee hee - life's fun!) Anyway, I wouldn't part with a penny without the receipt! (And I said it out loud!)
P: Wait a minute - I guess I have had enough! (Scribbled something on the receipt; when I interrupted and asked...)
IM: Sir, have they not given you readers to read these smart card licenses? Do we have to submit them?
P: Reader?
IM: Yes Sir. You could actually...
P: Ok. Ok! Here you go. Go to the RTO - after taking PUC. I have not charged you for insurance! Pay Rs. 200 and make way!
IM: Thank You sir!

Next morning! I religiously checked for PUC. Went to the RTO and surprise. Surprise.

P2: (Not of the Pentium fame!) That would be Rs. 600!
IM: (With an open mouth!) But Mr. P told me Rs. 200.
P2: Ok! Give me Rs. 200! Here take your license!
IM: (Wow! That was easy! But... wait a minute!) Uhmmm... the receipt?
P2: That is for Rs. 600.
IM: But...
P2: I can't help what he said. He might have said I owuld pay you even! Rules are rules. We have to live by it!
IM: I don't have that much. Wait till I call home.

And I continue to stand there when I see a big black board with all the fines written with chalk. It read: No PUC - Rs. 100! So, I proceeded to ask him about this. In the mean time, he was watching me closely. As soon as I approached him, he asked for a minute and was gone. Then he had some one call me. I went. Then he tells me that if I get the PUC photocopied and submitted, I would have to pay only Rs. 200! Rs. 100 for PUC and Rs.100 for the signal!

And so ends yet another kahani of 'encounter' with the traffic police making it (Drums rolling. Audience applause, cheers and whistles. Music rising to a rich crescendo!)Ab Tak 6.

Education as I would like

2008-06-20T20:22:00.003+05:30

I would love to open up an educational institution some day.

Where people learn; not study. For all you know, it might not have teachers! Certainly no reservations. No degrees or certificates either. No syllabi, to start with. No age limits, no classrooms. We shall learn the art of living (oh! that's a pun), children would not litter, they would plant a lot. They shall have a lot of options to choose from - sports, music, drama, religion, science, maths, languages, etc. Politics, civic sense and General Knowledge would be encouraged. There would be no Sunday. In fact, it wouldn't matter. One may or may not attend courses. All have to impart education to some other - there would be trips to areas of the under privileged. Life wouldn't be a luxury - but they would live as they want to - it would be one's choice.

There will be no dress code; or any code for that matter. Intellect and thought would replace influence and processes. Innovation would be back. Of course, no one would give us any work. We all would be entrepreneurs in our own right. And then one day, we shall become so big - the system around us would change. Will change. They simply would have to.

Damn the rest!

All for a Pound

2008-06-20T20:15:00.003+05:30

Or five. Or fifty! And we complain that the IT industry is not geographically diversified! Outsourcing redefined! Cheat your way to the banks! Go India go...

Oh No! Not again...

2008-06-18T11:05:00.002+05:30

That Indians (on an average) are blatant hypocrites is now a generally accepted characteristic. As long as it is not mentioned to demean a person explicitly, it doesn't even seem to be a bad word. There are countless traditions/ rituals which would make this opinion much more evident. To bring one to the forefront is the case of reservations. Just when we thought that the topic has been discussed to death MNS comes up with reservations for Maharashtrians!

I believe, that reservations itself is demeaning in the first place unless of course it is 'justified' by biological disadvantage, natural (as in case of ladies compartment in the local trains) or afflicted/ accidental (say, a compartment for the disabled). In fact, it seems so perfectly acceptable for the financially unfortunate too, until of course the vote bank politics rears its ugly head! In fact, such actions are rightly (?) opposed by student bodies all over, girls and guys alike. Though the point to be noted is such opposition stems from communities who are NOT benefitted. Sounds obvious right! But therein lies the hypocrisy!

For instance, if reservations for the classes backward and, pardon the usage, below are not merit based and hence unfair and if this is the point in argument then why do not the very girls (and their parents and family) protest against reservation for women in the first place! That not being done, becomes a clear indication of hypocrisy in the sense evil is good as long as it favors me! In the same sense, I wonder how many of the Marathi Brahmans would rise to this occasion to fight against a so-called pro-Maharashtrian party demeaning, literally abusing the Marathi student's ability to compete against say a Sindhi student or a Gujarati student! So, in short if the fight from the student side is for banning reservations, I guess starting with raising the voice (by girls, forward and backward alike) against the women's reservations (a whopping 33% - in the name of encouraging women to study) first would give a lot of weight to the argument rather than fighting the vote-bank driven reservations for OBC/ ST/ SC/ NT and the likes.

While this might be washed off mundanely as yet another ridiculous effort by MNS, it does make us, me for one, to sit up and think!

Do not fight so that you win. Fight so that the case at hand wins!

The Power of Four

2008-06-15T17:38:00.011+05:30

The photo above may not be all that clear; at least not in distinctly revealing 4 of my most priced items - A jean shorts, specs, a cell phone and floaters. But such has been the presence and utility of these that they warrant this, in the least.

Year of Purchase: 1997
Brand: Huh! Bought it from a roadside shop.
Price: Rs. 250/-
Victim Of: Treks (read slides down mountain slopes), football, and a friend who is, to put it euphemistically, fat! (And, I am being considerate here!)

Oh! This piece of clothing has been serving like nothing else can. Helped by the fact that I have literally not put on any thing around my waistline (and also that the shorts has a fantastic elastic!) there has been a mending required not once. Until recently, that is when my maid servant (who, being with us much before the shorts was bought is pretty much family now) had enough. So, the classic jean slit that you see is no more! It has been stitched to extinction (The slit only; the shorts is still pretty much in use!)! Sob sob...

Year of Purchase: 2001
Brand: Huh! Bought it from a roadside shop.
Price: Rs. 650/-
Victim Of: Volleyball smashes, football shots, many a throw here and there (Yes! I show it off!), another hefty friend who rolled over it in his sleep and of course the eventful fall from a bike (just the specs). It simply dismantled itself on the highway! (My heart skipped a beat as trucks whooshed by, and after some 7.3 minutes of searching and waiting for vehicles to pass by on the highway, I put it together - intact!)

I could drop it right now - from the fourth floor you say! Well, be my guest. If there were an award for being the most tortured soul(?) it would win it every year. Its scratched glasses give away nothing of what it has withstood. I rate a volleyball smash (I was on the net) from a really strong opponent as the worst. It was a head on hit on the specs! Of course it fell down leaving a little scar on my nose - but that was it! It disfigured beyond immediate use. I later spent some 3 minutes to set it right with my own hands. Well, that I think is the best part - the specs has never seen the maker for any repair/ adjustment! Long live specy...

Year of Purchase: 2005
Brand: Nokia (Model: 1600)
Price: Rs. 2600/- (approx.)
Victim Of: Countless falls, sunk into a sink full of shaving-cream mixed water, thrown down from a first floor balcony and from a moving auto-rickshaw.

So, after much persuasion by my parents I gave in to buying a cell phone at last! I stuck to buying the most basic and am thankful to date with this decision (even more fortunate that lesser models weren't available!) With an enviable battery (which hasn't been changed even once) life, and being treated almost like you would treat the stress reliever balls after your appraisal, this one has endeared itself to me like no other! It has got three features which not many models boast of. The loudspeaker (excellent), a talking clock (on the press of '*' for 2 seconds) and of course unbreakability* (*Be reasonable - refer 'Victim of:') I am not sure how I would react if this device were to, you know, one day conk off! It is a device after all. I am not sure, if I would buy a cell phone ever again!

Year of Purchase: 2005
Brand: Gliders (Huh! Never heard of them anyway!)
Price: Rs. 350/-
Victim Of: Treks - quite a few; including a night trek, innumerable tours, football and cricket

Oh, this might seem to be the least, but only in terms of probable life remaining! It has had the toughest time, what with being under my feet all the time, quite literally. Such is its loyalty that it once went along a really strong stream of water in Bushy dam in Lonavla, only to be retrieved a good 250 meters down the flow by a group of guys and returned back! It was bought only because its poorer cousin (a wholly black slipper pair from Sri Lanka, they say) wasn't allowed on my company campus! Anyway, of the four - it has received the maximum treatment. It is stitched in some 5-6 places. It is the only one to have been mended abroad. Yes, I chose to have it stitched for $3 in Singapore as against buying a new pair for $5! Such is my love for it. It is now old and has a grip as much as you hand on an overly oiled hair strand would have! It has served its purpose for much longer than I expected. Ideally, it deserves to RIP, but I couldn't part with it. Not yet!

And people tell me that I should buy branded stuff! Guys, it is not just emotional - but it is about what matters most to a customer - value for money!

PS: There was a jean which was given to me by a family friend. I wore it for more than 6-7 years, he had worn it before that for a good 5-6 years and what more; he had started using it only after some 8 years since having bought! It is no longer in service, courtesy mom!

Ah! Finally...

2008-06-04T14:24:00.001+05:30

Sense prevails. The INC took a decision, arguably forced into it, to hike fuel prices in the country. That decisions such as these are marred by the coalition party itself rather than the opposition defeats the whole purpose of a democracy! The CPI(M) in all its concern for the common man said -

The move provoked an angry reaction from India’s left parties, on which the Congress party-led ruling coalition depends for its parliamentary majority.

They vowed to stage national protests against any hike in oil prices beginning Thursday and said that the climbing prices of commodities and food is becoming “unbearable” for common people.

Raising oil prices will have a “cascading effect and heap further burdens on the people.

And the continuous government funding of the loss making Oil companies won't? The demand which was kept artificially and unreasonably high would now regain some sanity. And, does the INC always need to be pushed into the detestable corner before literally giving into a decision?

Nepali is Indian

2008-06-03T00:18:00.000+05:30

I was sort of taken by surprise recently by a blog which made me realize two things; that I am pathetically ill-informed about India and thereby did not know that Nepali is one of India's 23 official languages! So, calling someone who speaks the language Nepali is in effect as politically safe, and in theory a lot more safer than the most generously liberally used 'Madrasi', which is used by those north of the Vindhyas to address those south of it! The citizens of the country that co-hosts the Mt. Everest are called Nepalese; much (un)like Sinhalese which is a language and/ or refers to the people of Sri Lanka! Oh! So confusing...

So; a 'shame on you' to me! And, a good lesson learned.

'AIDS Jaago' waalon... Jaago

2008-05-30T15:42:00.001+05:30

Read this interview by Mira Nair, the brains behind the Aids Jaago campaign! Aids Jaago campaign is a set of four short films directed by four Indian directors and funded by the Gates Foundation. But what intrigues me is the audience for such movies and the channel though which the target audience is reached.

Indeed all four films talk very real-life like about the human side of things moving from Pankaj Kapur making a passing comment on the difference between having AIDS and eing HIV positive to Arjun Mehta screaming at his dad saying 'You just didn't care. Protection toh use kar lete.' And then there are scenes which explicitly mention the importance of using condoms, where Vijay Raaz is shown doing a road show with a blown up condom tied to his hands! So, per se amongst all the four movies, the message is quite well covered.

However, it is appalling that I had to search it on the net to view these videos. Would it be an overstatement to say that most people who surf the net, which is a paltry 3% in India, and actually search for these videos surely do not need a movie to raise this awareness? And by this, I do not intend to demean the quality of the movies or intent of the makers in any way! Nor am I trying to say that only the ones who are less educated need to get the message. The movies, though might not suit the less educated, who IMHO certainly need more explicit messages to be passed across. I might be underestimating the intelligence of the average movie goer, but I am only basing my arguments on the kind of 'mainstream films' that top Box Office charts nowadays.

Anyway, I heard from my sis that she saw this movie on National Geographic! Now, in my accordance, what good can this possibly achieve! Shouldn't these movies be screened on the National DD network (which is the most extensive network in the country) or at least on the Star/ Sony/ Zee/ Sun network during prime time. I mean, I think, that would be the right way to target the mass. With the kind of following the 'Saas-Bahu' epics have, it would only be too appreciated if a certain 'Saas-bahu' pair come on screen and give a short 30-second speech on the importance of the awareness and dedicate one day a week for one of the short films! A month and all four are done!

Secondly, why aren't these movies been screened in movie halls. A mere 20 mins...! For a dying man's sake, can not the movie hall screen this short film before the movie begins? It has certainly be done before for a certain short film which starred Vivek Oberoi, I guess! I sincerely hope that a chain like the PVR or Adlabs (BIG, yet?) shuold take this up and let not such movies be 'relegated' to Cannes and Toronto.

Anyway, right now, all I can say is that perhaps this is too early and the Aids Jaago team is working on these. Well, I certainly hope and pray that they do! Otherwise it would be a job well done; yet futile! All the best...!

Surely, You must be joking Mr. FinMin!

2008-05-28T12:19:00.000+05:30

This is ridiculous! Why the hell should I pay a 1% cess to fund the bleeding PSU's? If oil price is rising, LET IT RISE! For crying out loud, Mr. PC you are simply ridiculing the common man's common sense. Going by the audacity of this move, there will be a day when I am sure there would be a 'tax-cess', simply because there aren't enough people paying taxes and then it would be the I-T department's turn to save face! Sounds far-fetched? We pay a 'cess' because we pay tax!

Education cess (whether or not it is being used and furthermore rightly so is another line of argument) is still understandable and by and far acceptable. But why, pray I, should I pay for those who are using their vehicles! I shall, present a couple of points which would make it obviously apparent to the reader why rising the price of petrol would help matters
a. Only those with vehicles, presumably middle and higher class, are charged and rightly so
b. At best, people will stop using their vehicles and use public transport instead; thus reducing congestion on city roads and also helping reduce pollution - sounds like a government should be pro-this?!
c. IT IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO...!

Anyway... let's wait, watch and hope the FinMin's just joking about this.

AIDS Jaago

2008-05-28T02:59:00.000+05:30

I have long been wanting to catch these short films by 4 really radical Indian directors - Mira Nair, Vishal Bharadwaj, Farhan Akhtar and Santosh Sivan. Funded by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, these films were released as a part of the AIDS awareness program, AIDS Jaago. All 4 stories, of about 15 minutes (give or take 3) in length each are brilliantly shot and performed. Do watch all the four movies.

There sure was a 'Foreign' hand in this one...

2008-05-26T23:46:00.000+05:30

In a situation like that, I can't bowl a wide; not even if I badly wanted to! With 3 needed of the last ball, Fernando does it. No no, it doesn't end there... what should have been a regulation fielding off his own bowling goes through him for what you think is a regulation single. The Rajasthan Royals, quite obviously, go for the utterly non-existent second and Jayasuriya makes sure they make it...!

Shane Warne should be gifting away the MoM award to those two...! Kudos, I say! Mumbai Indians rock...

Slicky Situation...

2008-05-26T17:06:00.000+05:30

If the prices are rising, why the hell not let it rise? The petroleum ministry has recommended at least Rs. 10 rise in the petrol price. Congress' stand of not letting the price rise, seems is totally unimaginative and only too imaginable, besides of course blatantly ridiculing the classic economic theories of supply-demand equilibrium. They are only making it shamelessly apparent that this is 'khursi' politics, what with elections round the corner! However, the underlying principle of this entire line of argument seems so flawed, that I fail to see how else the Congress is going to make it their vantage point other than retreating to the overtly abused socialist discourse. I call this flawed because of quite a number of reasons.

1. The ruling govt. at the center is currently popularly perceived as an impotent one, which does not have the audacity of taking decisions of any substance. (Read the 123 nuke deal with the US!) Petrol, as a commodity, mainly serves the middle class upwards section. Seriously, does the Govt. think that petrol prices are going to help them garner socialist votes?!
2. And, not acting, yet again, on the upward pressure of fuel prices as a measure to temper inflation is not helping matters either. All of IOC, HPCL, BPCL are bleeding and the deficit funding that is now obligated would do no good.

Read this. This not only makes it bogus, but IMHO, entirely ridiculous! I am no keen follower of politics or the parties thereof, but the continued lethargy of the center is now amusing me. It thus comes as no surprise that the Congress lost out to the BJP which will now rule any constituency in the South for the very first time!

Of course, the way inflation is rising truly sends shudders... but, this is no way to react(?) or is a 'ration' card for petrol next on the agenda?!

Yeh Fevicol ka mazboot jod hai...

2008-05-26T16:30:00.000+05:30

"Yeh Fevicol ka mazboot jod hai...toothega nahi..." And that's the kind of impact great advertisements have on you! Amazing recall value, even years down the line...! On my way back from Daman this weekend, this sight on the highway reminded me, instantly, of an old Fevicol ad... Oh! Those good ol' days... used to love the Fevicol ads...!

Watch the original advertisement here.

Simple! Isn't it...?!

2008-05-24T17:15:00.001+05:30

We don't pay; we bribe them!
They don't mind; they are not paid anyway!

This vicious cycle, even for the least keen, should be apparent! I think I have a solution; Oh yes! Just like the billion others...!

Raise the fine; make it inhuman!
Pay a part of the fine collected to the one who collects it!

In other words, what the corporates would say - tie the pay to the performance!

To elaborate: As of today fines for breaking traffic rules vary from Rs. 100 for parking related charges (towing charges extra) to about Rs. 1000 for license related issues. However, the problem is that about 70-80% (figure not reliable; it is simply heuristic) of us do not pay those fines! And, when offered the poorly paid constable has to be really stupid or fairy-tale good to not accept it! No challans; free for half the charges!

Now, I suggest set the fines at a flat rate of Rs. 2500 for any and every offense committed (revised upwards for repeat offense). Further still, the constable gets 20% or Rs. 500 for every collection he makes and submits! This measure would be two pronged...
1. The constable is now keen to look out for smart-asses in the traffic
2. No smart-ass dares to break the rule!

Of course, one could argue that the offender could still bribe off the constable. Well, let him! But now, his wallet would have to be lighter by Rs. 500 (at least). This by Indian standards is high; very high. So, either ways people are now doubly disciplined. To start with, at least...

Simple! Isn't it...?!

Can't be a Gandhi...

2008-05-24T00:15:00.000+05:30

"A century from now..and Mr. M.K. Gandhi would be fiction." - said Einstein, not verbatim, somewhere in the mid 1930s...

And along with his other inventions and discoveries goes one of his predictions towards achieving universal acceptance.!

Come to think of it; would it even be a century before this happens...if we are to go by the present rate, i doubt it.! Yeah... this blog is a result of my reading his autobiography and then having a long-ish serious discussion with a few of my friends. This blog was originally written a long time before, around 2 years ago! Anyway...

Its really amusing how people form impressions about one Mr. Gandhi who apart from giving us a National holiday seems to be remembered only as a cause for the partition. To speak against Mr. Gandhi seems to be totally in fad and fashion. Or worse still, people fear being mocked if they believed in Gandhi. Some think he was no more than a traitor, some think he was a fool who got his ways, some feel he was right for most part of his 'political career' and then later faltered, some think he was a selfish goose, some think he 'hypnotized' lakhs of Indians to adhering to his ways, and I for one believe that he did the best anyone could have done.!

I believe in him. I did before I read his book, I do even more now. I mean... that guy was just too much stuffed in one. He is an idol, at least to me, in all aspects. The thought of living a life as he did, is a challenge so great in itself that one would shudder if he were to give it a serious thought. To gauge him on his personal life becomes too much to digest. He has stretched determination to the extent of being called stubborn. Stretched faith to the extent of being called ridiculous. Stretched love for human life to the extent of being called a 'traitor'!!!

I mean look at this guy. Started off as a young, married at 13, responsible(?) bloke, who did all the miscreants that we would; smoked cigarettes, took alcohol (both w/o parents knowledge and consent) and further still, indulged himself in carnal pleasures even before he was a major.! With a background as his, he starts off to England, all alone, not even able to speak their tongue wholly and then 40 years later, more than 75% of a nation that is struggling under a foreign rule follows his word in letter and spirit. Such was his command on human feelings. If experience were a teacher, Mr. Gandhi would undoubtedly be its favourite student. So great were his abilities to learn; not only that but to enrich his own experiments with all the lessons learnt.

India would have achieved Independence without Gandhi, no doubt, but then he aimed to do it without shedding a single drop of blood.! And it is also true that we would have got ndependence even by his ways, with no disrespect, without Bhagat Singh and Subhash Chandra Bose. The argument that seems to dominate, though, is that the way this nation has shaped, "because of Mr. Gandhi". "If he had not called of the Civil Disobedience movement...", "If he hadnt called off the Non-Co-operation movement...", "If he had not agreed to the partition..." ... and so on... but then ... if he hadnt called it off... would we ever had a bhagat Singh in the first place..??!! Well...it is another issue to ponder upon..!! Coming back...if we hadnt stuck to his ways of ahimsa...we might have got Independence at least a decade earlier, but at what cost? The lives of thousands? (Arguments regarding 1000s died anyways are duly, and in my opinion rightly deferred to another space.!)

All easier said than done! Just as everything in this world is... easier said than done.

This is getting too assorted, and lacks focus ... but basically ... a discussion the other night warranted this blog..!!!

If you were to look at his picture now, with the current definitions of success and failure, Mr. Gandhi, was one heck of a failure. I mean what did he achieve...he was a failure as a husband, as a child, as a father, and as far as being the bearer of a title of Father of The Nation is concerned, thats about what he is achieved, a title.

And yet... he was the gutsiest soul this world has ever seen ... by far.! As people say, his ways aren't feasible today, I couldn't agree more, for, people today are too feeble for it. Men of great strength and enormous stature are a thing of past; fiction.

In the end, people and young kids still believe that Lord Krishna lifted an entire hill by His li'l finger, but laugh when told a Man once tried winning independence by loving his enemy...

Thoda hai... Thode ki Zaroorat Hai...!

2008-05-21T13:44:00.000+05:30

With the telecom players drawing a trump every time they come up with a new service, you expect that they have just about exhausted all options available to mankind! However, surely the game is turning out to become a price war! Well, as much as it benefits the end consumer, it is simply not a way the industry gives the best to offer. So, as long as the price war is on, it is simply inevitable that the revenue stream keeps flowing through some channel; given the ever falling ARPU in the Indian market at least.

In this very vein, just a few words of suggestion to the mobile network operators and the now-booming Value Added Services (VAS) industry. There are some very simplistic services which arise out of a daily need to attend calls; not of the natural kind, of course; given that the cellular thingy has now become indisposable... So, here goes...

More Ad space....
Ha! Ads, ads and more ads. Even football player's jersey (the back-side) space is now officially ad space, the most sought after now-a-days! This; advertisements, not the footballers' butt space, seems to be the elixir for industries where service/ product differentiation no longer exists. In fact, the fight now has shifted to another arena; that of ad revenue generation. Keeping in line with the most lucrative trend, this might prove to be a revenue generator. How about this, "Offer advertisements as CBRTs".
- Users who choose this option will not have to pay for the CBRT, and
- Tariffs be waivered for those who use advertisements as CBRTs, which would, I believe be more than compensated by the Advertising revenue

Convey my Message...
Anything common to meetings, movies and driving? No mobile phones! And guess what?! I have no clue why people call time and again if you cut the ring or don't pick the phone the first time...! I mean, the second time is still acceptable! But 4-5 times... dude, I am in a movie hall and I could possibly not pick the call without righteous looking aunties giving strange glares or louder taunts, their 2 yr old crying kid notwithstanding! So, all you Vodafones and Airtels, there is a suggestion! In place of CRBT, user should be given an option (or a mode) to set a tone which says that the 'user is in a meeting' or 'watching a movie' or 'driving a car' or 'simply that the user is currently busy and will call some time later'. Of course more interesting options like 'user doesn't want to talk to you' can be explored! So, if I am driving and someone calls me, I could be rest assured that the caller has got the message and would promptly cut the phone and wait for the call instead of repeatedly trying to call me. This, I believe would save you bandwidth and channel usage. In fact, you could use this as a CSR step even as cell-phone related motor accidents is on the rise. Imagine an ad saying 'Ab Vodafone users ka accident nahi hoga!' or something like that...!

And I am quite serious about these...I have mailed Vodafone and Airtel in this regard too... Just suggestions, I don't know how feasible this would be. Do comment on why this would or would not be feasible. Well, interestingly Airtel has a 'Mind to Market' link under their 'contact us' tab! It encourages ideas from users and corporates alike... Nice going I would say!

* For the uninitiated
CBRT - Call Back Ring Tones i.e. when you call some one, you hear film songs, bhajans, etc. This is the single largest revenue earner for network operators. This music market has equaled the sales of traditional music i.e. cassettes and CDs.

ARPU - Average Revenue Per User

VAS - Value Added Services. Services like music downloads, games, caller tunes, etc. are provided by 3rd party providers

...

2007-12-19T19:54:00.001+05:30

In searching for a life,
He lost what he had...

In darkness, he saw light...
And in death he found a reason to live.

In the long run...!

2007-12-11T23:28:00.000+05:30

In probably the most strikingly simple, yet the truest statement which holds across all facets of everything, economist John Maynard Keynes puts across a statement -- "In the long run, we are all dead...!"

The first time I heard it, I wouldn't say life changed... views of it though changed...! I was, and still am pretty much a long-run guy! A believer in 'in-the-end' all shall be well! An 'optimist' who believes 'all's well that ends well...' and all the other phrases which basically deals with the 'long-run' thing and says it is for the good! Though, now I do feel the necessity to analyse with a certain amount of keen-ness the impact any action/ event would cause...

Long-run or short-term... who knows what is for the good?!

Smile

2007-11-23T01:08:00.000+05:30

For every one made, I loose one...
For every one lost, I make one!

Either ways... I choose to smile!
Smile... all the while...!

Ways of Life...

2007-11-16T22:09:00.000+05:30

Two lives that we live in ... Two ways that we follow ...
One that is yet to come... One that is no more ...
Both ways so utterly different... Beautiful on their own...

One we look forward to... And the other just a stain...
Pray for happiness... Try and forget the pain...
Would gladly smile at the pain i had... If ever the paths cross again!

The Defeatist...

2007-11-16T22:04:00.000+05:30

Dream, Plan and Try ...
Don't talk of losing till you have lost ...

A good loser is not the one who smiles after losing, he is the one who gives it another attempt...

No one knows what they are capable of, until they do it...
If no one has done it before, what the hell are you waiting for...

You never lose in life, until you lose life itself...
Losers aim small and achieve them, fighters aim high and give it their best shot...

Mother

2007-10-15T04:21:00.000+05:30

The first time I saw her, I knew she was special ...

She was a mother of three - triplets! As proud as the Queen, walking with her head so high up, not cared about the thorn in her way! They lived in a corner of the compund where my grandma used to stay. One look at the way they lived, I could say the mother never ate anything! But that was no reason her children will not be breast-fed! Let the whole world see; shame and embarresment is left for lesser mortals!

They didn't have a roof to live under, not a morsel to eat, no clothes to wear, no protection against the cold, rains; they just lived! I went near her children, beautiful babies, must be less than a month old, there was no sign, and didn't seem like there would be any, of their father! I saw their mother again, she didn't make a noise! Just the happy face, not smiling, but her eyes gave it all away! The triplets had cuddled themselves, one above the other - an arm here, a leg there, you could never say which one was whose!

Another look at her and I knew she hadn't eaten - for hours, days, weeks one could never say; certailny not from her face! But the body would suggest otherwise. She wasn't drained, but was certainly very weak, too weak to feed her cihldren! I ran out to get some food which she gladly accepted but not a word of thanks. I wondered if she were mute; but her eyes, the look was enough! She gobbled it all up. I went home, to leave her with her children, to feed her children!

I went home, had my lunch, took a nap and went out to have a look at the babies. I found them cuddled in the exact same manner; or was there an arm extra now.?! Anyways, I could feel them shiver now 'cos it had rained, they were soaking wet. I looked around for their mother, she wasn't in the vicinity. I took the kids home, and wiped them clean. By this time an aunt came around shouting already to get those 'things' out of the house, that it wasn't 'appropriate' during such times or some thing like that ... (*a pointer - the house was crowded with people to offer condolences, my gran'ma had just passed away*) ... so I obediently took them and left the 3 under a roof. I went ahead to attend to the 'duties'! I came back late in the evening to check on them. She was now there ... breast-feeding them! I left the scene and got her food, which was again gobbled up in no time. I bid them a silent good-night; a good-bye of sorts, because I wasn't to visit untill next Saturday!

Come next Saturday, I had forgotten all about them. It had bothered me a bit initially, the paradox called life. But the fact called work comfortably jerked me off any such philosophy! I had asked my mother last week, whether we could 'adopt' one of the kids, and well ...you know the answer was a sympathetic NO!

This time, as soon as i entered the house, my mom greeted me with another bad news ... one of the 3 had died ... a 'painless death' - she termed, because no one cried!

Mom had called in the medics earlier who said, 'If the infection has not spread, the kid will live!' Well, no one could stop it from spreading ... !!!

I was struck; wondered what would have happened to a life if we had 'adopted'. I ran outside, to see the other two cuddled up, as if they did not miss the third! The mother was saddened, she had lost the glow, her eyes drooped. I got her food. She had to feed the other two! The next day was a big day, for my family, a big Puja to be done and many 'condolences' expected. Wonder who would console the mother who had lost a child! I got busy again. Went back home late in the night. I was excused for the Puja next morning so i could get up late and all that. Well I did get up late ... too late ...

I rushed to my granny's place. People were waiting for me. I went, had food, some work here and there then sat down with a sigh of relief! I had checked in the morning, the 'remaining two' kids were still pretty much asleep. Their mother still sad. Didn't speak a word, not a noise, moan, groan ... nothing! Now that I was done with my work, went out again. This time the medics had come for the 'follow-up'! They went and checked the other two, their mother watched them with complete indifference and then walked away ...! Abinav!!! That was my name being called. I rushed in. My mother had fallen down, she got a bump in her head. My aunt freaked out. I asked her to calm down, by which time a dozen aunts had gathered with 'expert advice'. I knew I wouldn't be much help. I rushed outside. The mother hadn't returned. The two kids weren't there... The medics had a sack in their hand and the kids in them ... They found the other two kids dead too. Not even a change in expression as they said it. Must be used to it, i thought! I asked them to wait for their mother, they said she knew it and that the two had been dead for a day now ...

She entered the compound now, I was sitting on the stairs. She came directly to me. Sat down besides, and the first time I heard her ... it was a whine ...a short one ... then it continued ... no tears just moans. No words ... I patted her on her back trying to vainly console her. She let out a long whine, that brought an aunt out to see what was going on. I conveyed it to her. She immediately went in announcing it to all the ladies inside. My mother rushed out. She knew I would be there and I knew she would come. She gave me some money and asked me to get some food. I went out. The mother did not move. She was still letting out little groans and moans ... hardly audible...

I went to the shop nearby, bought a packet of Parle-G, her favorite, went in and fed her. She gobbled them as fast, with moans and groans in between. No tear yet. Then after the packet was done, she sniffed my hand, gave a little lick and walked away...

Do dogs have condolence ceremonies???

Through the window...

2007-04-15T16:04:00.000+05:30

Staring through, Naps and breeze
Afternoons, the 4 O Clock tea!

Lawns and birds, the green stretch
Water and fishes, summer time creche!

Mountains and hills, lakes to climb
Changing colors, all the time!

Cycles and races, holy places
Rains and frogs, cricket matches!

Winds and fallen trees, water everywhere
Splashing on the sill, but still I stare!

Nothings left, all got lost
All the water, birds and frost

Dug up, rods of iron
Steel and noise, the lashing sun!

Staring through, the barren
Plain stretch, brown mud-laden!

It's Gone...

2007-03-31T22:32:00.000+05:30

Look at it now...
And it is all gone!

Gone... as if it never were...
Falsified... slowly, gradually!

Just heavy hearts...
Trained, over and over again!

On purpose, gone...
Never to be seen ever!

A grain of hope...
That is all that remains!

That and the thought...
That brings a smile!

Lost Another One...

2007-02-10T12:40:00.000+05:30

Not that I keep a count, but when you know you are losing them, your mind takes over your senses! Approximately 30 close ones remained... I loved them all, equally! Off late... one of them pained me no end... you might find this weird... but I was especially fond of her. And it is no IQ achievement to know that the ones who are closest hurt you the most!

It was around a week now, and I couldn't stand it anymore... I have friends, many of them, but none like one Mr. Shetty to help me out in such matters close to my life! So, before I left for Singapore-Malaysia tour, I approached him, and like always... there was a solution ready! Get rid of her...

Now, it is more than 2 weeks... and today I have got rid of her... totally... I feel kind of numb, with no sensation ... no desire to eat.!

Shetty had told me this morning...

"It will take a day or two... the numbness should be gone within a couple of hours! Just take care... have plenty of ice-creams... that would cheer you up! No hot things for you... it doesn't help the mood. Just relax, hang out with your family! Talk a lot with your mom, that should help your tongue be in place! You remember the last time... you had lost two of your wisest ones... this remedy had worked."

"I know!", I said. "But that was different. They were recent developments... new ones. I could do without them! You konw this ones been with me all my life... I feel a void. While eating, food just doesn't go in! You must know, understand!"

"I know. I do understand. You can get a replacement. Just as good as the old one... just wait for a couple of months..."

"Ah!", I just waved him off... and walked home! Now, just 29 remain...

I really don't know if I can chew my food as well..., certainly not after having Lost Another TOOTH!!!

*ing -
Abinav Kumar.
Dr. Satyapal Shetty.
The dying tooth...one at the 3rd from left bottom position.
The set of 30 teeth (special appearance).

On a walk...

2007-01-03T15:00:00.000+05:30

In stark contrast to the last two weekends of the past year, this New Year's first begun on a low... what with the 'most looked forward' trek not materialising at the eleventh hour, quite literally!

So, followed by a late night discussion with a friend, I allowed myself the extra bit of sleep that I considered 'much deserved' as I was otherwise deprived of the same during weekdays! 10.30 am was about the time when I woke up on that Saturday morning! Too bored to do anything, I stepped out of the house to withdraw some money for the weekend! A long line outside the ATM ensured that I take a walk...

Well, that was precisely what I did ... With music ringing in my ears, I moved towards a neighbouring college ground where I was sure to find people playing cricket! But, to exclaim classically, Alas! There was some stupid function going on with special parking lots for VIPs, VVIPs, and VVVIPs...!!! Anyway, this detour took me to the foothills of, well... a hill! Tekdi as the localites call it...

The 11 'o' clock heat did not deter me one bit... Stepped on and reached the top in no time... For the first time in months, I simply loved the sun! The heat beating on my back, and the scene as barren as it could get!

Wondering how you never feel lonely when you are all alone, I proceeded! Suddenly realizing the amount of silence around me... I let out a slight sigh! And then, I started to jog, then run and then sprint... no reason... just like that... and let me tell you all... it feels great! Much like when you are in a beach and you stand against the plunging waves... punching at it, shouting ... you know, you really don't have any reason! Much like that! Thus sprinting, I arrived at a small temple. There were seats nearby, where people flock at saner hours of the day! It was all empty... I took a seat! Listening to Rahman's Swades... such a pleasure! Just sat there listening to the song again and again and all over again...

'Yeh tara, woh tara...' was next on the list... now with this song, I went into a state of introspection (Yes, people! I do that little bit of self-look-up every now and then!). Not finding much there... I tried to come back... but you know how vanitised people can become... the next 20 mins. I just sat back and tried to bring things back into perspective! Basically summed up with a 'I am totally insignificant, and thank God for what I have..!' kinda thing... (thats how most of my self-lookups end, anyway... don't know why I do it... ;))!

Then, the roaming about started... I mean plain roaming... for about an hour or so... believe me, plain barren surroundings can be really beautiful... really really beautiful... cursed myself for not having picked up a cam... (as if I had planned the 'walk' in the first place...)! Felt really nice to be the only one around... I mean the ONLY one... Mom called, spoke to her for about 30 mins... She was alone at home... I reciprocated... she asked me if I would come over then... I would have, but for my friends from Bombay who were to come over that night! So, a general buck-up-mom talk and hung-up...

Then my walk back home! Never liked the 'Yun hi chala chal rahi...' from Swades better before... and the irony of the line 'rang pigalte hain nigahon mein' ('the colors melting in your eyes...') while all I could find in all directions (except right above!) was a light-shade of brown!

Who needs friends...

2006-12-26T13:45:00.000+05:30

Woah... Don't bite on me yet...! I do need friends... However...

Sunday morning saw the entry of two 'friends (who needs enemies???)' into my house in the wee hours ... 8 am on a Sunday morning!!! Even the rooster nearby cock-a-doodle-doos around 8 on a Sunday...! Anyway, undeterred by such irrelevant facts, X and Y (identity protected, for absolutely no rime or reason!) plunge in to my till-then-serene bedroom... and yank the warm blanket off! Mom's voice from far behind could be heard, saying... 'He's slept at around 0230 last night... let him sleep...'. Well, as I told you the X and Y in picture do not much care about irrelevant facts...

The next moment, I found myself levitating... a heavenly experience... all fine except for a light strain at my ankles and wrists followed by a thud! Realisation dawned, consciousness made a come-back... and I found myself screaming a good loud 'OUCH!' ...

'Thanks! You buggers...' ... and I was on the verge of losing consciousness again as I heard a ... 'Any time, dude!' followed by a violent tug at my ankles...! I gathered all my might and strength...and remembered the famous saying... 'When you are pitched against the toughest of opposition, fight ... and you find it going tough... just give up!' ... So, basically without much of a consideration to the former advice in the saying, I just simply gave up!

The next 30 mins saw my friends beating one another up (they are pretty much a Dumb and Dumber sort of a duo!), my mom shrieking again, Y getting kicked out of the kitchen, X holding a prized possession in the air (oh! that would be a juice bottle from my refrigerator...), X being kicked out of the kitchen, me beating up Y for no reason, my dad shouting at me for some reason (i can't recollect), X and Y thrown out of the house with a re-assuring 'I will be at the ground in 15 mins' from me...!! I sat down as the commotion cooled off... contemplated sleep... but feared a repeat sequence of events if did not make an appearance at the ground in 30 mins...!

So, finally I drank my daily glass of milk, brushed my teeth (note the order! Its a sunday, i said!) ... and put on a worn out pair of shoes to go off to play FOOTBALL..!

And, off late there haven't been many things that I would term pleasant, forget the surprise part of it... but here what I see at approximately 0845 on a Sunday morning came as a Jack-in-the-box-with-a-gift-in-his-hands kind...

The gruond where I was dreading a sloppy day of 4 of us trying to simply knock around a size 5 tattered football and all of us falling down exhausted in an hours time or less, instead boasted of a 20-strong clan playing nothing other than CRICKET. The initial shock, or should I say, Jack-in-the-box-with-a-gift-in-his-hands kind of surprise was not so much of a blood-pumper; what with 50 year old Gujjus spawning the field with their Manikchands and cigarettes and general noise...

Seeing not a square foot of the field un-occupied for us to place a football and the general nuisance that we may cause anyway ... I resorted to joining them...! The first piece of news, that I wasn't to play till another 9 overs (a good 40 mins.) frankly din't excite me one bit! And, then came the big bit... a good-looking-friendly uncle (or, shoudl i say 'bhai' ... the term that I would use for the rest of the day to address each and every member of the Gujju species...) asked me to go and bat... for the final 3 balls or so... And so I did...

Now, I am not too bad a player in the under-arm form of the game... however I feel much at home in playing over-arm! Anyway, my confidence level hitting a new all-time low, I took the bat in my hands after a good 8-10 months..! The first ball I could connect. I suddenly remembered I was a quick runner between the wickets. I set off for what seemed to be an easy single only to be turned down by a 35-odd year Gujju uncle... oops...bhai, who seemed really engrossed in getting the latest stocks right over phone...! Anyway, that meant I should be running back to my wickets, specially when I have a record of being run-out by direct hits by the most lousiest fielders in the opposition! The next half-a-second or so saw me flying mid-air to make it to the crease. The next second saw me getting up to thundering applauses for having made it back home... I was a hero... I had done what they thought cuold never be humanly possible... I was soon crowded around by 4-5 people congratulating me and other general stuff... I could understand everything, but I am yet to find the thing that tripped me..!! Anyway, felt really nice that I had scratched my right thumb, middle finger and knee... and felt a weird pleasure that this should be done while I started playing cricket!

Anyhow, that being the highlight of the day... I continued in a similar vein falling all over the place, running like hell and before we knew it was scorching 1230! It was then that the Gujju bhais parted with a 'Dikra, next sunday aana...!' and a content smile..!

Well... 5 tired, really exhausted bodies (including X, Y, me and Z apart from a stray H) gave a vain attempt at football... and then finally gave it all up at around 1300!

A good start to the Sunday! :)

Oh Ya! Wondering... just more of a random thought...

If I were to play cricket every day with unknown gujju bhais and stray 'H's ... will I still need friends to live a daily routine! ;)

@Girls... DO NOT pounce on me... it was just a random thought!

Bombay calling...

2006-12-24T17:14:00.001+05:30

To all my friends... a Mumbaiite or not... and specially to you Miss R...

After a really long drawn trek, tired and totally sleep-deprived, I reached Mumbai yesterday... To be really frank, off late the glitz of Mumbai was losing its sheen somewhere deep inside me... That Mumbai is something vastly different from any other Indian 'city' seemed too far in reality... (Cut the smile, Ms. R...)

And then like all illusions, even this faded and I was snapped back to reality... And all it took was a night...

Ok... for the records...

Sunday, December 24, 00.15 am
Back from the trek, a friend of mine and I were in a ST bus headed to Dadar. Busy discussing finance and management schools, I hadn't felt the journey to be long or demanding! Somewhere near Chembur naka, there was a heavy inflow of traffic on the other side. I exclaimed the same and muttered to myself about the smooth flow on our side! Suddenly, the smooth and fast ride was cut short... There was a traffic jam! A good heavy jam at 00.20 am in the morning!

Sunday, December 24, 00.35 am
15 minutes ad we had hardly moved; and we were still moving at a snail's pace. I just popped out my head saw that the traffic jam extended to at least a kilometer more, right up to Priyadarshini... I told my friend that we get down at the petrol pump near my grandma's house and go to Kurla station to take a local back. So we did!

Sunday, December 24, 00.40 am
We had reached Kurla station. Paid the 12 Rs. that the meter showed (wondered why he hadn't charged us the night fare, approx. 1.5 times the meter reading). Took a ticket each and went to the platform. My friend wanted badly to eat a 'vada-pav'. We went to the platform just to see the 00.38 am Ambernath local leaving the platform. Praying that the next local should be empty (yeah, locals can be really crowded, even at 00.45 am on a Sunday morning. The indicator changed, and read "00.30 N". That would be a Kasara local (fyi... Kasara is 129 kms away from CST. Yes, that is how long the Mumbai local stretch is.) And, just as we got down the steps of the bridge... the Kasara local started entering the platform. Now, we had precisely 40 seconds (10 for the train to come to a halt and 30 second halt) in hand to get the 'vada pav' and get into the train. We went to the stall. I asked my friend to take position, just in case the train is crowded. Reached the stall and...

"Brother, 2 'vada pavs' and I have to catch this train!"
"Right-ho! Coming up..." and almost immediately, 2 pieces with the pav amazingly chutneyed. i open my wallet... and find just one 500 Rs. note!
"Brother... ", just as I hand it over... "don't have change!"
"Oh! Its just 8 bucks...", he says teasingly...
I plead... looking at the train which just halted... I could get another 2-3 seconds, thats the time the train takes to pick up speed... ;)
And in a flash, Rs. 492 in change was handed over to me... :)

Sunday, December 24, 01.05 am
21 minutes is all it takes to cover the 15 km stretch with 6 stations in between... and exactly at 01.05 am I reached Mulund. Got out at the station, took an auto again from the stand, and reached home by 01.15 am.

What leaves me dumb-founded is the contrast this city presents...

In Chembur, 15 minutes to cover 75 meters... and from Chembur to my home in Mulund 18 kms in all, covered in just 30 mins!

Wondering if I could have gotten home spending 31Rs. and covering 18 kms in 30 mins... in any place in India, forget that it takes place at 00.45 am on a Sunday morning!

That is why I love Mumbai, Ms. R!

Hello World!

2006-10-29T01:31:00.000+05:30

Cliches are cliches...because they are classics!