WILFUL RANTS OF A SINFUL MIND

In search of the INDIAN SUPERHERO

2011-11-04T00:05:00.000-07:00

I have searched from him everywhere, from book-stores to television channels to movie theaters. Futile attempts, all of them. If you too are a romantic like me, face it- there can never be an Indian superhero. Look at how diverse our tries have been, how frequent yet how inane they have all been. We've tried out a Krish, a Chitti, a Drona, a Mr India and most recently, we let G.One make an attempt. So far, so disappointing. The closest we ever got to a good concept for a superhero was Mr India. But he too had his failings. He was, I am guessing, the world's first hero, in the superhero's mould, sans a costume. Contrast that with G.One who is all costume and no substance! Intermediately we had Drona, a superhero who put his Dad's 'AJOOBA' to shame. I remember having watched the movie but that is pretty much all I remember. I cannot really comment on how good or bad AB was as a superhero. I can't really recall anything about that character except that the costume was hideous and its wearer even more so.The INDIAN SUPERHERO has proved to be amazingly elusive. I have looked for him all my life. I have looked for him everywhere, from the most obvious places to the most obscure ones. I have looked for him under my bed sheets, in comic books, on bookshelves, on television channels and in movie-theaters. But, failed I have, every single time. The Indian counterpart to the supermans and hulks of the west. None found!I have been very lenient with the criteria for the anointment. Yet, none were worthy of the highest pedestal on offer for mortal Indian men. I am not in the least saying that Indians don't have superheroes. Yes we have had our share of men willing to romance death, fight villainous villains and save damsels in distress, saving a few other folks in the process. But, none has had the allure of the superman, the mystique of the spiderman, the charisma of iron man or the anger of hulk. We have our very own plethora of comic-book superheroes, superheroes in movies and TV and a few other.Of all the comic-book superheroes that ever were and will be, I think Nagaraj is the most awesome. To have commanding powers over the snakes throughout the globe, even the snakes in far-off America if there are any, is a truly remarkable trait. Also, because India has been the land of snake-charmers it is only apt for us to have a superhero who epitomizes it all. But, yet Nagaraj is not a very viable option. I try to imagine myself falling from a 40-storied building only to have my fall cushioned by a bed of snakes, live snakes. I would die from the shock anyways! Sorry Nagaraj but not all men are born equal, I mean you and the rest of us and not me and the rest of us! Also, there is always the possibility of innumerable casualties in one of those poisonous gaseous emissions that you routinely employ to maim your foes.Then there was the circus kid who went on to become Super Commando Dhruv. Well, no super powers(uncoool), no special gadgets, except for a rope-shooting belt, and a resolve to not mortally wound his enemies or 'raise his fist' at females. Seriously? Looked less like a crime-fighter and more like the draft of a government proposal-full of caveats and fine-prints. Doga is too angry to be let loose among civilians, maybe a few 'art of living' sessions later, but not now.I labored on though, never resting, never giving up on hope. I got a little desperate at one point and was willing to settle for Chacha Chowdhary. But then, we all know that neither is there an alien race on Jupiter nor are computers capable of cognitive thinking. This belied the very basic premises of all C. C. comics- that his side-kick is from Jupiter and that his mind works faster than a computer.It was then that I decided to move on from printed books to the visual medium. On TV I once saw a ghostbuster called Karma. Karma who? If you haven't watched weekend Doordarshan it is your loss, not mine. But he was simply too lame and his costume was ghastly. Besides his laser guns made a funny noise every time they were fired. Then there was the boom-boom Boomer man too. I thought he was cool, with those rubbery limbs and everything. I was a huge fan of his, was almost on the verge of anointing him but then he disgusted me by filling a children's swimming pool with regurgitated water! And thus ended that romance. I never really liked G-man, another superhero who was a creation of the Parle-G biscuits advertising group. He was too juvenile and not really a hero, for heroes don't look at you from the back of biscuit wrappers. In movies we had Krish sometime back. His only strength is also his biggest weakness, his powers have not been defined. But then again, how do you know the extent of damage ( damage here meaning a deviation from normal )when a homely chick fools around with an E.T.! It could have been anything, the loose ends could be anywhere. You never know. One moment he is all crime-fighting super-cool strong guy and next moment he is cringing on ground because someone accidentally sprayed him with mosquito-repellents. It is just a conjecture on my part, yet could be true.Chitti is no superhero. Even if he is/was, he decided to disintegrate himself for the betterment of human-kind. A dead, disintegrated guy in a science museum does nto count for squats. Besides, Rajnikanth is a much bigger superhero than Chitti can ever be, the internet is testament to the fact.Indian cinema's latest attempt at creating a superhero fell flat on the face too. No offence to SRK, but G.One is a plain dumb-fuck. To have come into the human realm for a specific purpose, he decided to mark time spanking a female. Seriously, is that what a superhero does in free time? I was really hoping that G.One would bring an end to my quests. I wished him to be worthy of a mention in my wardrobe, beside my Superman and Batman tees. Sadly, it was not to be.But even in disappointment I shall not lose faith. I am prepared to wait a little more for that INDIAN SUPERHERO who may look Superman in the eye and ask him to bugger right off. Till then, I'll continue with Marvel and DC comics and let my heart pine for G.I. Joe action figures. I know some day we will have him/her-the answer to all our waiting. I still have a lifetime of time in front of me and I have no qualms in spending it in hope. After all, believing in a cause and not losing hope is what superheroes are all about!

An open letter to Anna Hazare

2011-07-08T07:20:00.000-07:00

Dear Anna Hazare,

With all due respect I request you to withdraw your agitation. I do not see the rationale behind your insistence for the creation of an ombudsman to monitor corruption in the country. Given, the levels that corruption has penetrated in India, you might as well ask God to descend and do the needful. You have very cleverly screened this truth from the people of the country, who anyways do not care for your opinions and demands. It is not me but the entire government that is saying so. As Mr Manish Tiwari rightly pointed out in a press conference a few days ago, you are nothing more than an 'unelected tyrant'. Mr tiwari, coming for the Ludhiana parliamentary constituency, was ELECTED, the congress government was ELECTED, Mr Manmohan Singh was 'ELECTED', you on the other hand are just an old man past your validity date. How can you have the temerity to question an elected government? As Mr Tiwari put it- 'It was the common man who elected us to power for five years, now they have to put up with us'. Neither you nor the opposition, a bunch of rejected invalids(Mr Tiwari's words, not mine), can question the government or its methods. It does not matter that more people than the combined electorate of Ludhiana have come out in support of your agitation, you do not have an electoral victory to flash as a badge of honor or a license of rampage. You might call yourself the custodian of a certain set of values, a code of conduct that you have adhered to all your life, but did you ever fight an election? You say you are a Gandhian; but you fail to specify which Gandhi, for the only Gandhis that matter today do not concur with your views at all. And no, Menaka Gandhi or Varun Gandhi don't matter at all. Clearly, that doesn't make you much of a Gandhian, right?

You claim to represent the civil society, Mr Tiwari cannot comprehend what a civil society is. Like a fifth grade debater, he asks if the rest of them are uncivil as you and your motley crew have already laid claim to the civil society. Anna, do not try to get smart by saying the division is along civil and political lines, or civil society and political society. You should yourself hear how ridiculous that sounds- civil and political! Really, what about the good old grammar books that antonym-ise civil with uncivil. How ignorant you are Anna! Also, since when did artisans and workmen become agents of change? Are we not to suffer in quietude while the nation is plundered and pillaged by people we were foolish enough to elect in the first place? After all, have our holy scriptures not ordained us to suffer the consequences of our impropriety all our lives and again in future lives? Are you, Anna, out to defy our scriptures? Are you trying to teach us otherwise?

But where you totally seemed to have gone out of line is in your demand for the inclusion of the Prime Minister under the purview of the Lokpal. Can you not see how totally ludicrous that demand is? We have already been told a zillion times- Mr Manmohan Singh is the most honest and upright prime minister of all times. I do not know if you i) were even paying attention, ii) have failing hearing or, iii) amnesia. Clearly, that is your problem, not the government's. Also, can you really hold the docile Mr PM for any of the decisions that the government takes? Do you not see who pulls the strings in this government? Are you of the opinion that we should hold a gentle, soft-spoken man responsible for the failings of a government that he is barely a part of? Are we to make a good man a scapegoat, just so that your ego can be satiated? That is plain sick. On a similar note, the heir apparent, Mr Rahul Gandhi, is going to make an even more honest and upright prime minister as and when he comes to power, impending events need to be accounted for. No other man can be the Prime Minister of this country. No other(?) Indian womb is fertile enough to bear us a leader. I know that, and deep down, you know that too. The opposition or any other individual cannot claim the throne ever again. The electorate are not fools. Thus, where is the need to allow the Lokpal to investigate the Prime Minister when he is going to be honesty personified? Do you see the turn of the tide now? Do you see what the Government and the Congress party has been hinting at? Their people wink at you with both eyes when they argue and yet you sit there lost in your own pipe-dreams, refusing to see reason.

You can fast for 6 days or 60 days or more, the government is not going to accomodate you, neither should they. You lack a mandate to speak on my behalf, I might have registered my support for your cause by phone calls and SMSs. But did I ever vote to put up with your tyranny? Did I ever empower you to question the credentials of a government that was voted for by less than 30 per cent of the electorate in the country? Your confidate Mr Arvind Kejriwal has already created a whole lot of confusion in government offices with his RTI, please do not attempt the same in the Parliament. It is the home of GODS, damn the social science books that call it the Lower House, let its sanctity be. The common man has learned to roll in the mud and is happily resigned to his fate, please do not try to mis-fire his imagination with your gibber-gabber. It has taken us almost 60 years of self-rule to evolve to this level of bliss, change will not sit pretty with us, the risks are too great.

Anna, please consider your age. You are old and yours is not the time to indulge in such trouble-making. As for your young followers, not everybody is blessed with genius-in-youth itself, so they must not try to emulate Mr Rahul Gandhi but follow him. If you are reverent enough towards the country, do something to prove likewise. You have made public your disappointment with the draft committee. What you really need is a lucrative 'jaanch committee' job that will take care of your retirement needs and also sate your hunger for power and recognition. So pledge allegiance to the first family in the country and fall in line. That would be your true certificate for recognition as a modern Gandhian.

But, and the 'but' here is the operative keyword, if you really intend to rid my country of corruption, you are welcome to do so. And while you are at it, why don't you teach us that song too- 'jisne paap na kiya ho, jo paapi na ho'.

Regards,
The common man.

Baking Beans: Homeless

2011-05-26T02:01:00.000-07:00

'Hello boss!! Amitabh here. I paid the broker 10 grand as token money for the flat.'
'You shouldn't have done that!! You should have known better...How can you trust a broker with so much money?'
I was gutted, totally. With these three sentences, amply punctuated with deliberate sighs, Mr Ali, my future landlord, brought me down to earth.
But before I talk about it any further, lets go back a few days and work our way through to my current predicament.
Needless to say, we(Ankur, Saahil and me) were on the lookout for a new house. Our modus operandi was the same as that of anyone with a similar quest. We searched online for suitable advertisements and contacted many people. During this quest, we realized that not all people tender their correct contact numbers on these sites and not all people who do take your calls want to rent out to you- you meaning bachelors!!
Disappointed at not having made any headway, Ankur and me switched to 'ad mag', a weekly classifieds magazine with detailed listings for properties to be let out. As we sifted through these advertisements and tried to zero in on suitable ones, we made another discovery- you cannot find a decent abode if you do not have a broker to guide you in your searches. Disappointed and begrudgingly, we landed at a broker's shop and asked him to show us 2 or 3 BHK flats. Shiva, the broker, instantly took us to show a place. He led the way and we followed him on our bike. He kept going inside by-lanes after by-lanes till we were as far from the hustle of the traffic-infested roads as one can get. Before us stood the imposing facade of a well-lighted four-storied building-impressive but not mind-blowing. It was past evening and the sun had gone down, the building was at the mercy of artificial lights which were generously dotting the front and the insides as well. The broker spent some ten minutes talking to someone on the phone, and then beckoned us in. As we walked with the broker towards the flat, we were surprised thrice. First, when we walked into the building- the building was actually only a front for an entire colony of villas lying behind it. The path way leading to the flat had cobble-stone walks and was dotted with creepers and shrubs. It was a sight to behold and a walk to remember!! The second surprise was the broker saying that the flat he was about to show us has female tenants who would be vacating in some time. This pleased us no ends and added to our excitement. Yeah, I know but please keep the 'boys will be boys' look to yourselves. The third real surprise was the flat itself, the girls, however, were nothing to write home about, so I'll skip that. This flat was like a perfect place to stay in. Large, spacious, well-kept and in an awesome location, Ankur was already going head over heels at the prospect of staying there. The rent proved the dampener for the deal with the owner asking for 19K per month. No way were we in a position to be that luxurious, so with a heavy heart, Ankur's was heavier, we left the place to its own fate and asked the broker for some other place. He asked us to come back tomorrow, we agreed.
Next day, he asked us to come to Alpine Eco, a housing society very close to my office. He guided us expertly through a maze of 20-storied buildings, all named after one mountain or the other, to a particular block. He then ushered us inside an under-construction flat. The floor, marbled though it was, was strewn with pieces of concrete, bricks, filth and stray articles. I had a difficult task at hand having to survey the flat while keeping a look-out for the filth on the floor too. The flat looked very promising and suitable to our needs. The rent he quoted was only 16K, easily manageable for the three of us. The three spacious rooms, the living room, the kitchen, the adjacent store-house and dining-room were all well laid out. We were impressed. We were wiling to rent the place. Any modicum of reservations we had were quelled the moment he showed us the 'clubhouse'. Ankur agreed to the deal the moment he saw the swimming pool, Saahil fell for the slide or 'fisal-patti', as Saahil put it, attached to the pool and I was really delighted to find a gym and billiards table. We asked the broker to let the owner know of our willingness immediately, we were wary of letting such an excellent place slip through our fingers. Also, eager as we were to move in, we demanded that the place be put in order and be made ready for human inhabitation by the end of the month. The broker promised accordingly ensuring that the wood-work, electrical and sanitary fittings, and painting and cleaning that remained to be done would easily be finished over the weekend, allowing us to move in by our desired date.
We asked the broker to set us up for a meeting with the owner so that we could pay him the advance and ask him to start the required finishing work due in the flat. The broker asked us to come back the next morning. We did. The owner had not turned up, the broker had. He said that the owner had authorized him to receive the advance from us, he gave us valid-looking receipt for the payment as well. We reminded him for the umpteenth time about readying the flat by the promised date. He repeated his promise to do like-wise. In a happy mood, we bade farewell to him and rode back home.
It was only next morning that I realized I had not spoken to the owner even once, so I promptly did. What happened over the phone has already been documented by me. Although three days have since passed, we still have our hearts in our mouth. We are still waiting for the owner to call us up for the final agreement, for a confirmation of the possession date and to be shown into our new flat as its rightful owners. The wait is seemingly endless, made worse by the fact that we might end up losing i)the 10K we have already paid to the broker, ii)a place to stay, iii)the goodwill of our parents, iv)our right to be treated as intelligent young men, but most of all I am afraid to lose sleep over a fresh search for a new house.

Baking Beans: Part 1

2011-05-18T14:19:00.000-07:00

Four months, forty thousand rupees and yet not a single word; Bengaluru is surely not that bad a place. So, why wasn't I writing, you may ask. Well, there was office, there was so much buffoonery going on at my residence, there were so many weekends to waste- I just could not string together a few hours to write. What a shame!
But now that office is over and I am reading books at a frenzied pace, I promise to write more. In fact, I resolve to blog in the same manner that rabbits breed, or pigs eat, or Prameya Khemka sleeps- no apparent consideration for restraint, quality or decency!
With the alibis over and resolutions made, I promise to visit the URL more often with stories about my Bengaluru experiences. Stay tuned, that is, if you care!
Adios

TV, plants, pappa, etc.

2011-01-07T06:45:00.001-08:00

I have not been blogging of late. The reasons for that warrant a blog-post of their own, so I put it off to some other day. But what jolted me out of my self-imposed hibernation was a mail from google which asked me to post something a.s.a.p. or I may be made to lose my blogspot.com location.

Disclaimer- This piece of work is under no way created to mollify Google bosses nor is it an attempt by the author to save his cyber-identity!!

Well, I had a world of topics to talk about. But, recently, I have been really perplexed by two questions in particular. I wish to discuss them hereforth.

1. Why is Indian television so dumb?!
2. Why do all elderly people acquire a taste for gardening?!

I have returned from college to the cozy comforts of my home and with a truant BSNL, I have no recourse but the tv to bide my time. And the only sensible thing I believe can be done to the 'idiot box' is flip the channels. Its been less than a week since I arrived home and have already lost count of the number of times I have completely cycled through all channels on my tv, from 0 to 199 and back. The Indian channels have nothing to offer, those broadcast from the south-east of our continent are slightly better.

The Indian channels would be colors, zee cinema, set max, 9xm, mtv, [v], sony, star plus and a plethora of utv movie channels. Well, star plus and colors always play masterchef and bigg boss respectively, no matter what time you switch them on. Set max is no better beaming an over-eager govinda in a rom-com, which trust me is neither rom nor com. 9xm has those weird-looking cartoons talking with a few intermittent songs which remain the same no matter what the show is called!! MTV and [V] too play the same songs all through the morning while their afternoons are devoted to skimpily-clad BITCHES squabbling over dead-pan-faced guys or some mind-less peagants. UTV was caught with its pants down, playing the same stupid english movie back-to-back, that too without an ad-break(I know about the ad-break because I was vella enough to watch the movie once).

The channels that are international to some extent, not because they are broadcast from somewhere in Singapore or the vicinity but because of their content, fare slightly better. The likes of AXN, HBO, Star Movies, ZEE Studio, Star World and Discovery-Nat Geo are more watchable any time of the day, but the content here too is not novel. The movies they play are generally the better known ones with actors that are easily recognisable to the Indian audience. But I am still to see a Clint Eastwood or Marlon Brando or Harrison Ford movie being played. These actors may not be around now, but their cinema was truly commendable and needs to be propagated for the gratification of the senses. Star World and ZEE Studio on the other hand are busy with re-runs of Friends, Lost, Prison Break, TAHM or Burn Notice(ridiculous looking actor touted as TV's James Bond(sic)). The seasons running currently are at least three years old(for a current show still in production) but are always presented as BRAND-NEW. Maybe the channel moghuls need to be told that India should no longer be treated as a third-world country where information about the outside world arrives by snail-mail. We have the internet now, and torrent-shared media files. So, like me, I believe that most of the people who watch these shows are up-to-date as far as the new episodes are concerned. We watch the re-runs only becuase we love the series too much.

In a different paradigm of Indian tv, we have the 24 hour news channels. I believe their count is nearing 40, if I included the regional channels as well. The Hindi channels are outright ridiculous, with almost 25 per cent of the screen covered by tickers- one for trivial news, one for classified advertisements and a third, much bolder, for breaking news. What is surprising is that the "breaking news" ticker runs 24 hours. All sorts of path-breaking news are broken to us, right from some ex-cricketers message about Tendulkar to Vidya Balan's comments on award functions. And, if you are lucky, you might catch a ticker detailing Rahul Gandhi's travel plans- no, not inter-India but intra-Delhi!! The news they broadcast are equally ludicrous. UFO sightings and astrologer 'dudes' predicting the end of the world are eternal favorites, not to leave behind berating the Team Indian for its inept performance every now and then. Sometimes I feel Dhoni asks his men to botch it up intentionally just so that they may watch the analysis while they hold their sides from splitting with laughter.

The English news channels are slightly better, catering to the more educated masses. They too have the "breaking news" ticker but much less potent than their hindi cousins. Their shows are more incisive, informative and they generally manage to cobble together a decent panel of experts. Except, of course, when it comes to cricket when they too fall to the temptations of getting 'bites' from Srikkant and Maninder Singh(sic)!!

As I have aptly demonstrated, I have nothing creative to do during these holidays, what with the cold winds outside keeping me within the confines of my house. I have so run out of creativity that I first watch the 'idiot box' and then criticise it and yet continue to watch it!! I do not have much choice and my thumb is surely going to get sore with all the channel-surfing on the remote.

But apart from watching the television which I don't do all 24 hours, I sleep and bath daily as well, I also watch my father tending to his mini-garden. This garden has grown from a couple of neglected weeds growing in half-broken pots(six months ago) to artistically laid out pots with multi-color-leafed plants(present day). I have invited his wrath on more than one occasion on matters concerning his plants- once cause I tripped over a pot breaking it in the process, once for watering OVER a herb causing it to break its neck(at least, that is how it appeared after I was done) and more than once for not watering them regularly. I have made myself more than clear that I have no heart or talent for gardening, but does he listen to me?(rhetorical question alert!). But what concerns me most is not just dad and his gardening, even my uncle and two of dad's close friends(all senior citizens(lol)) falling prey to the same hobby(or habit??). Is it an age thing? Or does the confidence of having reared a successful son(in the case of my father) or progeny(as in the case of every one else) give you the extra confidence to try out the same methods on plants.
The first question that I raised, I believe I have answered amply. The second one, well I am still searching for a definitive answer. If you have observed the same in your vicinity or immediate surrounding, pray tell me your analysis. It might help me understand the vagaries of growing old better. I intend to prepare myself in advance, for I'd hate to discover them ON-THE-JOB.

the DUPATTA

2010-07-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

Well, hello there!!!i know you guys are doing fine, you reading these lines is proof enough. i don't exactly write things a dying man would want to read, so if you are reading this, you are hale and hearty(and a little jobless as well). my laziness had gotten the better of me every time i tried to blog, but i felt increasingly bad for saumya and sid who, despite coming across as perfectly normal people, have an urge to read my blabbering. but however much i value their patience or vellapanthi, i do not intend to talk more about them. any future references may be completely co-incidental and unintended. so, let us wander off...

i have grown up reading that a dog is a man's best friend. well, one look at their set of dentures, and i am willing to go to the world's end arguing otherwise. i am pretty sure sid would come along!! to me, a book is a man's best friend- loyal, humble, funny, captivating, engrossing. and if you are not in a harry potter-esque tale, rest assured, for they will not bite!!

i also read that diamonds are a woman's best friend. yeah, right. i can count the number of diamond-toting women on my wisdom teeth (unsurprisingly, i have none). so that effectively rules out diamonds. books are already taken by the balding, beer-guzzling, hairy sapiens we lovingly call men, so books ruled out as well. dogs?? not exactly, girls are more into cats and teddy bears and similar hairy animals (but, sadly hairy men are a strict no no...hypocrites!!!). which leaves us with the very point-less, harm-less and use-less question-- what is a girl's(i hope the transition from women to girls has escaped your eyes) best friend?? without wanting to sound like an MCP, i would propose it be the dupatta (all further occurences of this word will be unitalicized). i can already hear shouts of blasphemy, blanderdash, perfidy, and a few more similar disapproving adjectives(though not all may be consistent to the emotion or use). before i fall prey to the famous 'fury' that hell hath not, i'd like to present my case (if there is one!!). well, for starters, i believe that the dupatta is the humblest piece of garment to adorn the female figure. it is an unfailing symbol of conservatism, elegance, usefulness and defiance. we will deal with each one in detail.

the dupatta symbolises conservatism because, well, it is conservative... i mean, it is the one accessory that is consistent with all those dictums of (sic)'laaj aurat ka gehna'(i did write it, saumya :p) and stuff. also, in a very romantic and intimate moment, it can be used to show nervousness and apprehension(oops!!!the over-dose of hindi movies just spilled over!!!).

there can also be no disputing that the dupatta is inherently elegant. the way it flows behind a damsel sweeping over the faces of many an onlooker has fired the imagination of so many movie-makers over the years. the dupatta flying away in the wind has the potential to spark off so many love stories. therein lies an opportunity for you girls, if you still waiting for a beau!!!i say, let it fly:-)

do not ask me how a dupatta can be useful, ask yourself. picture this-- you are THE man, your damsel is in distress, you are 'to the rescue'...and you get hurt, start to bleed...the damsel can in this case simply tear at her dupatta to dress your wound!! useful, isn't it?? now picture this-- you are THE girl, walking in the sun... tie your dupatta to your head and around the face. after you have secured your face, you can laugh at the sun's!! useful, isn't it?? picture this-- you are THE girl(stay this way till i ask you to change gender), you are angry and real pissed off with someone, you want to destroy them and take a resolve to do so...just tie a small knot in the corner of your dupatta as a reminder!! useful, isn't it?? picture this--now be a MAN...you are taking your girlfriend to a date and you don't want her or you parents to see her, just ask her to tie her dupatta around her face!! useful, isn't it??

as a symbol of defiance, well, watch any ekta kapoor serial!!! every time the girl is doing something defiant or rebellious, she just throws her dupatta on her shoulders, in slow motion and usually thrice, though doing it once in real time will have the same effect!!!

enough said...i think i can rest my case now.

so next time when you dress up, do carry the dupatta along with you. maybe your very own saif ali khan may be waiting outside to sing 'neela dupatta peela suit' or akshay kumar(?) breaking into 'laal dupatte wali zara naam to bata'... and there can be no rivalling romance as it happens in bollywood. so, why miss out?? just do it!!!!

p.s.:i have written this just to get it out of my head, i know i could have written it better. maybe next time!!

I am back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-07-12T06:57:00.000-07:00

OK...please bear with me for the few seconds that it may take you to sift through theses lines...this completely nonsensical piece of text is just to prove that i am not dead!!!i am very much alive and kicking(my own ass, too lazy to reach out for some other guy's) ...and i am going to blog-full length, yeah, AGAIN!!!so happy reading:-)

FIRAAQ-- movie with a message

2010-03-17T00:34:00.000-07:00

It was like any other day. I was feeling lazy as ever. With my internal exams breathing down my neck and my thoughts as far removed from books as pluto is from the sun, I decided to take refuge in the comforts of my laptop. As I browsed through the myriad unorganised folders dotting my hard drive, I had the good fortune of stumbling upon my 'downloads' folder. Inside it lay hidden, unglamorously, a movie I had downloaded with great intent but almost inexplicably forgotten in the melee of my daily life. This was a movie of the genre I enjoy the most- hard-hitting movies that deal with reality. These are movies that were made with an intent to reflect on our lives, and sorry KJo but singing "pretty woman" on some American street is not our life and not that of NRIs either, they are just fancy dreams that embarrass us in reality just like most of your movies do. The movie I am talking about is 'firaaq' and I started it without wasting any time. It deals in facts with a twist of fiction and shows the fallibilities and frailties of the human mind. Time is the cheapest commodity in the life of an engineering student, more so as the exams near, and patience infinite.

'Firaaq', I must clarify at the outset, is not meant for people who demarcate the world into countries and men into 'kaafirs' and 'mujahideens'. 'Firaaq' is the kind of movie that talks of the atrocities that man has inflicted upon his fellow sapiens in the name of religion and race. But more than that it talks about the inherent goodness of the human heart that refuses to die out. 'Firaaq' portrays men as not black or white, but as true greys. People who will talk of defending their beliefs and yet cower under the fear of death shunning the same beliefs they claim to live for and die by.

As I watched the movie and its message registered into my mind, I realised that the main cause of all the ills that plague our societies today is not how we perceive others but how we portray ourselves. When we show streaks of biotry and hatred in our demeanor, chances are that the same will appear to us in the mannerisms of the people we are interacting with. If I talk to someone with an uncompromising zeal about my religion to a 'non-believer', he/she will naturally, in an effort to correct our misgivings, talk about the shortcomings of my arguments. Offence taken, relations soured, and zeal turns to bigotry with is only a few steps away from fanaticism. Instead of correcting my own 'over-faith' condition, I will start questioning his/her intentions. Now, if the same thing happens to, say, a thousand people in a colony, we have discontent and when it happens to a couple more thousand in a couple more colonies, we have riots and when it happens to a couple more cities and then states, we have the kind of ugly happenings that the world is seeing today. Countries are bombed and then some other countries are bombed- in retaliation or pre-emption depending on the attackers stature in the global pecking order. And in all this mayhem, the efforts of a few good men are lost. And also lost is the trust men should have in each other and a faith in universal brotherhood. Suspicions arise, suspicions that are baseless and absurdly based on teh direction in which you pray and the manner in which you pray and the Gods you kneel down to pray.

No matter what I am told or shown or made to believe, I can and will never fall prey to the arguments that a particular religion preaches murdering innocent people and spreading hate because I know that nothing can be more far removed from truth. I wished to grow up in the land of Mahatma Gandhi, a country where all are 'vaishnav jan' not because they obeisance to the idols of a particular god but because they are sensitive to the pains of others, their religions notwithstanding. But the land of the Mahatma was sadly consigned to the flames with his body and dreams- what remains is a sad orgy of political oppurtunism and human failures. This is not he kind of land we wish to present to our children or is it?? That is my question to all of you. Please think it over... The effort will be worth the time!!!

GOD: as the agnostic sees him

2009-09-06T14:11:00.001-07:00

GOD: Do you believe in MY existence?

man: No, i don't. YOU don't expect me to be so naive. i mean, come on, there can't be someone who is omnipresent or omniscient or omnipotent or omni-everything.

GOD: Does that mean you do not believe in me?

man: i don't want to... but i have to.

GOD: How so?

man: It's all an arrangement of convenience for me.

GOD: Please elaborate...

man: Look I'll give YOU an example. i leave for work at approximately the same time every day. Assume that one fine morning i get caught in a traffic jam that just refuses to clear up. i am helpless. And so i turn to YOU. And because my condition can in no way be explained by a cause-effect relation of any of my prior actions, i blame YOU. i have no other option.

GOD: you mean I am just a scapegoat?

man: Ah!! i could not phrased it any better.

GOD: But you don't always blame ME. You thank ME as well at times. And there's always the frentic praying!!

man: i concede that i do thank YOU. Just like the traffic jam above, if at times the cosmos does align itself in the opposite orientation and something inexplicable happens that triggers a chain of good fortune for me, i have to express my exhilerations. That i do by thanking YOU. It's just my way of reassuring myself that i still deserve to be happy, be loved and be successful. But it's just an expression of my overwhelming excitement. i don't really believe that some GOD in some far-off land has chosen me from amongst the trillions on this planet... and then bestowed upon me such precious gifts. The odds of something like this happening in a real world situation are ridiculously minuscule.

GOD: So it all boils down to probability?

man: yes, it does. Does not the third law of thermodynamics state that "the entropy of the universe is always increasing". And let me reiterate that it's an established law, no hypothesis, no fancy theory, no axiom but a law. And in the course of this expansion, things tend to happen and un-happen. The universe changes alignments, some people win lotteries and others lose at the capital markets- it's all probability and it's all random.

GOD: But if it all is really probability, why can't your sciences explain it all?

man: Science is just a subject akin to an organic body- it sees, observes, deduces, grows and then explains what it has fully understood. It's been doing that for ages and will continue to do so. It would not be completely wise to discredit all things that science can't explain. 500 years earlier, we did not know the exact mechanics of current and electricity but they existed even then. Now we know, so we understand it better. Science is expanding like the universe, it is not the be-all and end-all of everything- science is unlike YOU. Science is not GOD.

GOD: Then what is GOD??

man: YOU are playing clever now, trying to trap me in questions that i can't comprehensively answer, that no man can answer. Is it not ridiculous of YOU to ask me to explain a thing i believe is not there in the first place. i say YOU do not exist, yet YOU ask me to explain YOU. Frankly speaking, YOU are nothing. And therein lies the beauty of YOUR arrangement, YOUR convenience. Because YOU are NOT, YOU can be anything. YOU claim to be the hills and the rivers and the stones and the animals. YOU even claim to be me. And because YOU are not, YOU don't need to explain stuff, YOU don't need to validate your claims. YOU can get away with it all. It is i who has to do the explaining part, because i exist, because i am.

GOD: But are you not because of ME?

man: No, absolutely not. I am just a consequence of a series of random steps that initiated long back, may be in times unknown. i am just a transition state in a chain of events that neither began with me nor will culminate at me. i am just another link in the chain.

GOD: So where lies the beginning of it all?

man: The beginning lies where the chain started. We have people who are working on retracing the steps that have led to the present. And when we do find the beginning, i will let YOU know because YOU, of all, deserve to know.

GOD: But how will you let ME know? How will you find ME? And where? you say I am NOT!!

man: i believe YOU will come back to question me again, like YOU question me today. Till then, enjoy YOUR supremacies and our ignorances. adios...

2009-05-16T21:49:00.000-07:00

Oh the times!!!Oh the days!!!never more torturous...

If you have no clue about what I am saying, its probably because you aren't here in Maniapl. Its exam time...I am smack in the miiddle of my 4th sem-end exams. And I am highly tempted to use the age old cliche-so much to study, so little time...well, you might argue that the dates still change only once every 24 hours but look at what goes on in between this transition. Piles of books, notes and questions waiting to be touched, almost as impatient as a 30 year old virgin. And that is not just it...You also have the bed that entices you every minute of your sleepless existence, promising the comfort and care-free existence of days gone by. There's the outside world as well that hasn't spared you. All of India is immersed in politics and cricket, but not necessarily in the same order. Then you also have a soccer team in far-off Manchester that is bringing joy to your world by winning a consecutive third title. In all this melee of frenzied human activity, I believe it only sane for an impressionable bloke like me to lose the desire to sit bundled with books when there'a a lot more to see, learn about and rejoice in.

I just hope this blog finds its way to my Dad's desktop so that i don't have to explain my slipping grades to him, again...

I have seen GOD

2009-02-28T03:44:00.000-08:00

I had a dream last night...which is very unusual for a person who sleeps like me. I can proudly say that I have unravelled those really deep frontiers of slumber that even dreams find hard to penetrate. So, it is very rarely that I dream. And last night's dream was no ordinary vision.

I had a vision of God in my dream. There He was standing in front of me-resplendent in His shining armour, yet smiling benevolently. His face though was not visible. Allow me an attempt at describing his form. He was neither magnificent in form nor towering in presence. He, in fact, came across as rather docile. He was around 5 feets and a half in height with a very childish face. When He spoke, His voice did not resonate a la the GOD in 'Bruce Almighty'. In fact, He was nothing like what Gods are supposed to be. His voice was soft and carried the innocence of a 10 year old child. Slightly rotund yet agile, He wore a strage blue costume that had 'Sahara India' written on it in bold prints. Maybe He wanted to convey to us the fact that He is our only sahara-hope, belief and much more. For ornaments He wore stranger things. He had a blue fluffy leg-guard that covered his feet from the ankle to a little above the knees, the padding being a little pronounced on the knees. I can only guess that it was to protect His lower legs from any below-the-belt attack by the enemy or to provide comfort to His legs when it was required of him to bend down on his knees and take careful aim at His nemesis.On His left hand, he wore a white protective sheath, wrapped tightly and carefully, maybe to nullify the impact of enemy missiles he was expecting to be showered with. He had all his fingers and both palms tucked safely inside a pair of gloves that were thick enough to negate the impact of any hostile attack yet were flexible enough to allow Him a good grip on His weapon, the details of which will be divulged later. He was also wearing a thick protective board or similar equipment on the outer side of His left thigh under His trousers-though not visible, the object did make its presence felt by the bulge that it caused. The heavily fortified left part of the body clearly indicated that it was this part of the body that was going to be exposed to the enemy. Now for His weapon-it was a very unusual piece of object. Defying all convention, it was crafted out of wood. The amount of hard-work that went into making the weapon though was clearly visible in its form which was all shiny and smooth. Even though it bore a starkling resemblance to a mace, it was flat on one side with a slight triangular bulge at the top on the other. Written boldly on top of His weapon were the words-MRF. I have no clue whatsoever regarding the true import of these words but they must surely be having a deep impact to be associated with Him.

And I was fortunate enough not to just see Him but see Him vanquish the enemy. Despite all the armour that He wore, He was very light and sure on his feet. His feet movement were supple. His arms moved like the finest Greek poetry. The way He was using his weapon was truly amazing and awe-inspiring. Surely, no other creature or Creator could accomplish the same. When He ran, it was with the ease of a hare. His gaze was as unwavering as a stork searching for fish in water. When He retaliated to enemy fire, His face contorted a bit. Such was his concentration that all the jibing and taunting by the enemy could not evoke even a single un-manly response from Him. He was well aware of the job at hand and did it with such amazing dexterity that even the heavens showered Him with myriad flowers. Bards sat in a trance wathing Him fight and kept writing literature in His praise. He fought gallantly and single-handedly managed to vanquish all opposition. He slay many a warriors and ran amok in the enemy ranks. Humbled and subjugated, even the enemy chief sang peans eulogizing his bravary.

And when the war was over and it was time for Him to go, He parted with the words-'I will try not to fail you, but am only human so I might. Yet rest assured all ye mere mortals that I will come back to fill your life with happiness and pleasures and will always make you smile.'

And then in the light of the halo that appeared behind his head, I saw his face. He was indeed God. He was SACHIN TENDULKAR.

A day in the life of an MITian

2009-02-07T11:53:00.000-08:00

Isn’t it??...isn’t it??...she said 24 out of 31 last day…that’ll make it 24 out of 32 today!!That’s 75 per cent all right...zzzzzzzzz

Damn the phone!!!What is it Raj??Damn you man, you woke me up.

Thanks for the piece of info. Now, if you don’t mind can you please get your ass out of the bed? It’s the COA tutorial today and you have only 15 minutes to make it to class. Am in the class right now so I’ll hang up but you better hurry.

(aloud) Holy mother of Christ! How could I forget that? (ad-lib) Yeah Raj, you are right, I better hurry.

Sir may I come in please?

Come in if you so will but where’s your book? It’s an open book test.

(ad-lib) Crap! Crap! What do I do now?

Hey get in idiot. I got your book.

Thanks man. That was quick and real smooth.

Mention not.

Take the question paper. And will you two chatter-heads mind coming to the first bench?

No sir. No way. (ad-lib) Darn! I can’t believe I came all the way from the hostel for this. None of these questions make any sense. Open book test, what an irony!

Dude where do you plan on having lunch?

Ask my ass! She’s got the wallet.

Let’s get some ‘cheesy’ stuff at Vikram’s.

Good idea. Let’s go.

Ask him to change the channel on the TV. Go ahead, I dare you.

I won’t. There are girls around. I don’t want to be shouted at by an anna. You concentrate on your Bombay toast. By the way, how about a game of pool?

Ask my ass! She’s got the wallet.

I pay, K?

I’m your man. Let’s go.

Are you born out of Negro parents?

Is that meant to be an insult?

Hell no, its not. The ease with which you get the black ball every time just made me wonder.

Hahaha. That was very funny. You and your jokes are sick. And don’t forget that you are paying for the auto ride back to the hostel.

Tell my ass! She’s got the wallet.

Stop saying that line. It’s getting on my nerves.

My ass on your nerves! That’s funny.

Let’s go to the gym dude. It’s already 6.

Yeah, sure. Meet me the baddy court in 5 minutes.

Beats me. What’s the point of all this mindless gymming when you still have to wear your shirt all day? What chick will get to see these muscles if I am all covered?

The gymming is only for your satisfaction. No chick is ever going to look at your hairy chest and stop herself from throwing up.

I’ll let go of this 25 kg rod right now if you say that again, you moron.

Hurry up dude. I want to get to the mess before they are done with all the leg pieces.

How do I care? I am a veggie.

Balls! Not chane again. Do I look like a horse to them? Why chane everyday?

Wanna try this? It’s quite tasty and juicy. It’s a delicious leg-piece.

No thanks, you moron.

No I am not coming with you. No, no, no. what’s the point of going all the way to the 13th block? You’ll just look at her from afar and clutch at MY hand. No, I am not willing to be a part of your homosexual encounters with the opposite sex.

Please dude, please. I promise I’ll talk to her today.

You better keep that promise. Come on, let’s go.

There she is. Not that side you fool, THERE. I do the walking for you, I do the spotting for you, guess I’ll have to do the talking for you as well.

No thank you. I’ll manage it myself.

In that case, let me tell you that you are a wonderful manager. Still not managed to talk to a single girl after a year and a half at college.

Ok smart Alec. Why don’t you give it a shot?

Not interested. She is not my type.

Smart?

Single.

Shut up playboy. Hey! Should I ask her for coffee?

Ask your ass first! Does it have the wallet?

Shut up and wish me luck.

May the force be with you.

Stop making it sound like a Star Wars mission.

(ad-lib) this is going to be funny. Can’t wait till the morning. I have to tell this to some one. (aloud) Hey Pankaj! Wait on dude. Know what happened right now. Raj has gone to ask Payal for coffee.

So?

Nothing.(ad-lib) Just makes me feel better.

What?

Nothing. You going back to the hostel? Let’s go.

This is sick dude. This is just not right. First time I talk to her just as I had planned. 45 minutes of non-stop chatting and suddenly you have this car full of profs stopping by and shooing us off to our hostels. What the F man? She looked so nervous.

You misread the expression dude. That was shame. Being spotted with you, by the profs, I know how she must be feeling. Must have been one of the worst days of her life. Hehe…

Shut up. I have never met a more insensitive man. Besides they took my library card. Wonder what’s going to happen?

You are going to meet a more insensitive man tomorrow. Sleep tight tonight. You are going to have a very special date tomorrow. DisCo, anyone? Hehe…

Stop scaring me. I just wish they don’t call up dad. That will hurt.

Your dad?

No. ME.

Don’t worry, nothing will happen. It’s your first offence and probably your last. You’ll get away I am sure. Now please go to sleep. I don’t want to miss the second lecture tomorrow morning.

What about the first one?

Do I look like I care???

The Pakistan Puzzle

2009-01-31T20:41:00.000-08:00

India, Pakistan, Kashmir, peace, war, diplomacy, investigations, co-operations, extradition... these are the pieces of the same jigsaw puzzle. Yet at first look they appear to be so inconsistent that no body believes they will fit together. And the cynic is not all wrong. The problem lies in the way Pakistan has handled Pakistan and the way India has handled Pakistan.

On its part, Pakistan has made a complete mess of what it set out to do. They had a new country, adequate resources and able allies in the USA and China. Theey still managed to botch it up. Not because they were blind. But because they allowed their hatred for India to cloud their vision. Both the US and China exploited this obsession to the full providing Pakistan with weapons and logistic support in their repeated misadventures against India. China went a step ahead and if sources are to be believed, helped Pakistan acquire nuclear weapons. The US was too busy cooking everyone else's broth to pay heed to this and was woken out of its slumber when the Twin Towers collapsed. It realised its folly and decided to rein in Pakistan. By blocking military aid to Pakistan, at least for the time being, and bombing the Talibani bases there, the US has cleared the ruthlessness of its intentions. But China, yet to suffer at the hands of Pakistan, has chosen to prolong its stupor and continues aiding Pakistan.

The change in the attitude of the US atowards Pakistan can be seen as a diplomatic victory for India but much needs to be done on the Chinese front. Our 'Chini' brothers need to be made to see sense or our attempts to mount international pressure on Pakistan will come to a nadir.

We cannot aloow diplomacy to fail for that will leave us with the only other option- war.

2009-01-28T10:44:00.000-08:00

There is no Superman, no Spiderman, no Shaktiman...there will never be. All that we'll ever have are Aamirs and Prakash Rathores(movie: a wednesday) and plenty of similar common men. Men who have no superpowers, no superhuman abilities, just their wits, courage and strength of character for company. And it is these men who are going to be the real saviours, the promised messiahs.

I know not if the Gods walked on this earth or ever will. But men will. Lots of them, of all kinds, shapes and sizes. It is often said that all men are born equal, it is thier characters that set them apart. This couldn't have been truer than in the current scenario. In today's world ridden with crisis of all types- social, political, economic and moral, the need is for these common men to rise, to realise their full potentials and take charge of cleaning the mess.

It would be a rank understatement to say that the political class has betrayed us. They taped our eyes and also blurred our vission to mask the truth. Need is for this mist to clear, the haze to disappear so that the true picture emerges. And let me assure you all that the picture is not going to be beautiful or acceptable. And herein lies the challenge. It is our lethargy and indifference that allowed Mumbai to happen, that facilitated Malegaon and Akshardham, that has fed the Kashmiri insurgence and that allowed Mangalore pubs to be vandalised. And it is this lethargy that has to be overcome before we can even dream of vanquishing our foes. And the responsibility of doing so lies in our hands, in the hands of the very people who are happy to be a part of the crowd, mute and wide-eyed, ever complaining yet too cozied in their existence to react and hit back.

Let us not forget that it is people of our own ilk that constitute the armed forces, the political class, the intelligentsia and the journalists. It is from amongst us that people have risen and proven to be catalysts for change. Baba Amte was a rank commoner, so is Medha Pathkar and a million other people who have silently gone about the job of fighting for our causes. But in their struggles and failures lies our lesson. No man can fight for another. Every one has to fight their own battles, roll in their share of dust, perspire their share of sweat and soil their own share of clothes. Men will have to rise and set their shoulders to the wheel. Revolt against the unjust, complain against the wrong-doers, bring to justice the criminals and recognise the contribution of good men. True leaders of men must be recognised and duly treated for in their strong hands we can entrust our problems, let them take care of things that they specialise in while we do our jobs with honesty and integrity.

It is time we realised the truth that Barrack Obama has so beautifully worded-'we are the change that we want'.

Great words to swear by. Great words to inspire the mediocre to greatness, the lethargic to a life of activity. In our hands lie our destinies, make it or mar it, the call is ours. I just wish good sense prevails.

i think...

2009-01-18T04:58:00.000-08:00

...love is like a good book. A friend of yours has a girlfriend. You read a review about a book and like it. You want to experience love first hand-that is by falling in it(love, of course-but don’t i make it sound like a pit or a mote-bad precedence) yourself. So you are on the lookout for it. And at your local grocers' or at a friend’s party or on your way back from nowhere(isn’t that the place you go to most often???), you run into her. Sitting pretty and proudly on the bookshelf. Enticing and inviting-she is everything you wanted her to be, everything you needed her to be. Your first reaction is to measure yourself up(boys will be boys)-you reach for your wallet to check if you can actually afford it.And then you bite the FORBIDDEN APPLE. You muster the courage to approach her and start a conversation. You bring it home and look at the cover proudly-feels so good to own it. Gradually you get to know her. The more pages you turn,the more interesting it gets-its completely unputdownable. The more you get to know her,the deeper your fondness grows and love follows almost reflexively. Then a time comes when you can no longer stop reading it-the urge to explore the next page is just too overpowering. You propose. The book then reveals the final intricacies of its plot. You love her(she gave you no option...or was it life???) and the fun part is that even she loves you. And then the dreaded moment comes-the book draws to an end. Yes, you start feeling a lil’ too complacent and probably tired after the man-proposes-woman-accepts routine. And when you have finally finished reading it,you turn it over in your hands and look at the cover once again-a deep sigh follows. Memories of the days gone by flash back in your mind. You realise the romance with the book isn’t over as yet,it can’t be. You realise that loving her can never bore you,it can never be a tedious task for you-your heart and soul lie in it. You promise yourself that you will give the book a second reading-for old times’ sake.You have her as your companion for life. The book is yours for the keeping. And you begin to feel rejuvenated, as if thee romance has only just begun. There is a lot more life in this book.

my life these days

2009-01-18T04:51:00.000-08:00

The mornings were never so tedious, so lazy, the motivation never so low. I still remember the days when the mornings held promise. Rise and shine- or at least, try to. You would wake up to a day that held myriad promises, and many more possibilities. Those were the days when I would spend a good part of an hour in planning what all I would eat that day. The pranks I would play, the friends I’d meet, the food I’d eat and the memories I’d collect. Fast forward to 2009. Life is so much the same yet so different. It’s the same wake-up-to-the-alarm-in-the-morning routine. It’s the same rush to get ready in time for classes. The same struggle to stay awake in class (yup, the more things change, the more they remain the same). The only difference is that the vision is no longer clear. Everything around seems so hazy, appears blurred- just like it happens in the good old Hollywood movies where they show the protagonist all lost and harried standing at a busy junction with vehicles speeding by leaving behind only a trail of head and tail lights. These days life is so much more about enduring the days than actually living them. I don’t know why??? I can’t understand why??? Its not loneliness. Its not discontentment either. I have more friends than the hair on a new born baby’s head (doesn’t make much of a sense, does it?) I have friends willing to stay awake with me all through the night and share my eccentricities without allowing even a second of boredom . I have places to go, games to play, people to meet, books to study and a life to live (supposedly). Yet the emptiness, the feeling that something somewhere is amiss. The feeling that I have unwittingly overlooked something- an important detail, a necessary vitality. The urge to live is still there(yeah, it will take a little more time before a turn into a neurotic) but the urge to succeed, to exceed myself is no longer there. How I wish I were mad again, laughing at silly jokes, fooling around with friends, enjoying life-not merely living it. Maybe I am waiting for my moment of madness, my redemption, my salvation. And I am more than willing to wait for it with crossed fingers. Amen…