It wasn't me...

… 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

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?

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

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

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

“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

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

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