Interpreter of Maladies

Dev D - this one's for real !!

2009-02-19T11:11:00.002+05:30

For starters, I am not a huge Anurag Kashyap fan (I do read Passion for Cinema, yet...). I did not hate NO SMOKING - I thought it had all the makings of a genre breaker. What went wrong was probably choosing John to play the lead. Not using any offensive words, he is as wooden as the table on which my laptop rests as I type away to glory. He could have gone with an actor with a permanent anguish and it might have worked. I loved Black Friday - the music, the movie, the actors - perfecto. And I loved the story in Satya. I think AK goes wrong when he tries to balance sense with sensibility. Does not work !!

In Dev D, what works is that he gives two hoots to anyone and everyone. Censor - two hoots. Moral authorities - two hoots. Public - two hoots. Shahrukh - two hoots. That kind of attitude works like magic for a movie like this. You cannot, not show abuse and create a Dev D. For dummies, walking with a fake liquor bottle with your face powder and mascara shining through - aka Shahrukh - does not work !! Abhay is your "two hoots" personified. The man is 30+, yet has not done a single conventional hero movie, at least the kind of movie in which he gets the sexier girl at the end. Believes in defying convention and redefining it. So, that was a smart choice to make.

He has a story to direct, which has been grounded from the lofty ideals Sharat Babu planted it in. Not that there is anything wrong about Bengali literature, but it revels in being ethereal. Not the kind of thing, which works for me. The heart of the story is what most of us have been through, either in our own lives or have seen others living it. What works is that there is no repentance and full marks given to the intelligence of the audience. I loved the "main aa raha hoon", the mattress on the fields, the vodka with coke, the hotel tajmahal and the very foreigner looking Mrs. Chunni - trivial details like these which make the movie special. Which shows the director cared to look and analyze and add details, at all places where I, the humble audience in the backrow could watch it.

And how could I ignore Paro - Mahi Gill is fantastic as the headstrong "JAT"ni. The handpump scene was awesome - full marks there. And put that alongside the clothes washing masterpiece in Dev's room and you have my ideal heroine there. Someone who loves and loves like no one else does, but is not afraid to move on when life does. I like their last scene together - the conversation on the door. That's her moment perfecto, where she steals the scene, the show and the audience.

Kalki needs grooming. She has done well in scenes with Abhay but seems transfixed and wooden in the first half of her story. Guess she can play spicy better than shocked. But she has potential - best witnessed in the dirty talk on the phone, first encounter with Dev scenes.

Everything was just perfect till the momo scene and that's where I lost you Mr. Kashyap. Why did you choose a saccharine ending to such a gritty, grounded movie. Dev seems like a zombie in the mental hospital or some other worldly alien in the bathtub scene and I wondered then, were 3 hours becoming much too long for you - to choose that ending. That ending is perhaps the only blot in the movie. In that perfect perfect movie.

Music Magic

2008-04-14T09:37:00.002+05:30

It was Wednesday when browsing through the newspapers, a miniscule column caught my attention - about the BhaktiUtsav. I faintly remembered references to some such event last year, but could not relate. Went to the web and found that it was the festival of devotional music which attracts crooners from all over India and Pakistan - to praise the allmighty in their traditional style of music.
I saved up on the week then- to go to the fest on this Sunday.
I was apprehensive - maybe it would not be good - there were no big ads in the city - even the newspaper thing was more of the size of an obituary than an event. Nehru Park, where the event was to take place seemed all desolate too. No sign of a horde of cars, no banners - nothing. The gatekeeper informed us in an empathetic baritone, "Program ke liye aaye hain? Peeche se jaaiye". I frowned at "Programme", was I seriously about to jeopardize my really precious weekend for the mockery of some music fest.
So from "peeche se", I went and found this curtain of earthen lamps shadowing a display of marigold flower chains. Seems exotic, I thought. There was an imposing but simple stage and right ahead of the stage, there was place to sit on the ground. There were chairs too, for those who would dare not touch the ground below their feet. I sat and allowed myself to intake the ambience. The tall tree and under its fulsome branches, that harmony of light and sound. They started at dot 6.30 which was quite surprising from Delhi standards. But this was no Punjabi brouhaaa - in a balanced and melifluous voice, the presenter announced the agenda of the day and briefly what all was to pass.
It started with a Sanskrit Bhajan to Jagannath by Maheshwar Rao. I was busy interpreting the Bhajan for the first 5 minutes to an animated audience on the side. But then the staidness of the Bhajan forced me to close my eyes and sway with the mood. By the time the closing lines came, I was already transposed to another world. A couple of couplets later, Hariharan came to the stage. I realized the small park had become marginally more crowded - he was the star of the evening. But this was no star Hariharan (although there were moments when he did fall into the ambience of being filmy), this was the real Hariharan - soft, mushy and touching.
There were so many others which I can talk about - listening to Ramcharitmanas with so much heart in place, listening to why all my demons are only inside me- but let me leave the hints here. Scattered, so that next year, I go back again - no matter what is playing on my mind then - I will still find sanctuary and solace again.

Marriage, Consulting and much more

2008-03-31T16:19:00.004+05:30

It has been a gruelling six months since I have actually dropped in to write a word. I can give those meandering excuses about work and personal problems but I guess nothing answers it best than a post itself.
I was busy getting married. Life after marriage is difficult in an additional dimension - all by itself. Marriage blesses you with a partner who values you and keeps you secured but it also forcefully at first and benignly at the next, teaches you to take care of this other someone. The brain revolts and the heart tries to get around the problem but there is no solution in sight. You hate sharing almirahs, furniture, bathrooms. You even hate the fact that the other person never arranges things in the way you always do. That - according to me - is singlehandedly the biggest challenge of married life. Once you get past that, it is always easy to build a life together.
I always thought marriage would be a cakewalk. I had everything in place - the right guy, the long relationship, the amenable parents. The wedding hullaballoo was tolerable - I came pretty much unscathed out of all that jamboree. But, it is when the fineries are safely stocked in suitcases, the curtains are rolled up- that it all starts to sink in :)
Well, forgot the cribs of a newly married. I should talk about work. By far - the more interesting and enriching part of my life (as I would have you believe). Consulting is a monster in itself. It all starts with the promise of great work - which I did in leaps and bounds and then sinks to the mortaliest and clumsiest piece of work that remains on the face of the earth. Well, those are the labor pains of the lifecycle - you have to be a cocoon once (and for a long time) to finally attain that butterfly like stage (i.e. if you last long enough to see it)
I am so glad I am writing again. Maybe this is horrendous to read and sounds really frustrating at this time but I am sure it will take just that small bit of time before I come back.

Sayonara until then

Rising small town middle class

2007-08-29T13:59:00.000+05:30

This was the title of a special news feature Times Now did a few days back. This traces back its inspiration and origin to the increasing success of people from tier 2, 3 cities in singing competitions, sports and movies. Most small town middle class denizens like me would react in two ways to such a news feature - 1. Feel proud and pat our backs on what individuals such as us have achieved 2. Or feel that media is again doing what it does best - using a very small sample to predict a larger trend.
So what, if a Dhoni captains a 20-20 cricket team, a Poonam Yadav stands to win a singing competition or an Ankita (even with a broken and hoarse voice) is one of the favorites to win the third Indian Idol. What does the rise to glory of a Sania Mirza denotes? Is it actually a larger trend? Are the Kanpurs, Lucknows, Bareilys, Gunturs, Jodhpurs, Ahmedabads, Patnas and their similar cousins are on the steady path of conquest over their wealthier and well-to-do Delhis, Mumbais and such as. Even in the face of Euphoria, I beg to disagree. I would believe that fate of many like us have changed when things have changed fundamentally. Opening multiplexes in tier 2 cities and entry of hyper retail in smaller towns does not indicate an awakening of the small town middle class. It only means cashing out on the consumerist tendencies of the middle class. An awakened small town middle class should indicate something bigger. Are people in these cities better educated today? Do they have similar career opportunities? Have infrastructure and facilities got a facelift? Does it make any difference for a Delhite to shift to a Lucknow? Should he stop getting concerned about eve teasing, potholes on the road, bribery to get gas connections and phone lines and illegal construction around his house? I am not confusing social and political issues. I am merely denoting that the mentality of people in small cities is still the same. There has been no major change there. What is happening is a shrouding of the new by the old. So yes, there are potholes and stinking drains in your small town but you won't notice it coz there is a shining Big Bazar right on the same street which can actually blind you to the realities of the city itself.
What we need to question is how to connect the economic interests of the private sector with the developmental needs of the small cities? Why should we not place a liability on the private sector to target total development and not part out with our cash until they do so?
Until then, an Ankita after becoming Indian Idol will not go back to Kanpur. She will just settle down in a Mumbai/Delhi and bless her fortunes that she got an opportunity to walk out a long foregone place.

Airports and Airplanes

2007-08-03T23:43:00.000+05:30

Since I have had enough exposure of the two, I can qualify to be suitably accomplished to write this. Life in consulting is spend primarily in commuting. Whether it be commuting within cities or from the airport to the client site. I would have taken close to 25 flights in the last two months that I have been working. Here is a simple what works/what doesn't on the two major carriers:

Jet Airways
Nice staff - both the steward and stewardesses are sure of how to react to quirky enquiries of passengers. For example, if they run out of pillows and blankets, they will actually adjust the temperature of the AC to suit you !!
Food: I find the Jet food sumptious and healthy. Although it lacks variety !!
Comfort: Although the seats are no good at ergonomics, but the blanket and the pillow more than makes up for the poor seats. The blankets are worth a steal !!
Time: Jet has started faring poorly on this ever and ever again. They are hardly on time anytime. Baggage collection is a mess and check in counters are becoming less informative day by day.

Kingfisher
Big plus: On time !! The promise is lived up to the nth second. I have never sat on a Kingfisher flight that is more than 30 min late. The terminal arrangements and clearing on runways that they have ensured is quite awesome. Hats off, Vijay Mallya.
Food: Very innovative - giving a menu before serving the food. That's very nice. Makes you await the food.
Service: The airport luggage pickup service is quite impressive. They actually locate you, get your bags, make it run fast through screening and get you checked in, before you could count 10.
What does not work is poor blankets. Your airline is red but that does not really mean that you give red teddy bear felt blankets to someone who is traveling on business !! Some business sense is required there.

Airports are quite a different creature to talk about. So here is the lowdown:

1. Delhi: Messy, unorganized and too crowded for comfort. Is the government listening ?? Security check queues have been seen to extend out of the airport. Is this our national capital or what?

2. Mumbai: Ooh la la..what an airport. The new terminal rocks. I mean, it made me forget Frankfurt and Heathrow for a second. What they need to improve on the airport is the arrival section. Faster baggage collection and a little more maintenance on the arrival lounge will truly make it the best airport in the country.

3. Chennai: The less said the better it is. The loos hail from 19th century. The toilets leak. The place is so small that arrival and departure are arm's length away from each other. All airline counters are huddled like mom and pop stores on a narrow lane. The security is lip service..nothing more.

4. Kolkata: Would give it better points than Chennai and in some cases may be better than Delhi too. Why Kolkata scores is simple. The arrival lounge is big and spacious. It is also well maintained and airline counters are spread across the floor. Baggage collection could be improved a little and something could be done to make approach roads to the airport better and less congested.

I am sure, most of you would find this post a tiff boring but I don't blame you. It's my life that has become boring. Would try to spice up things real soon.

Back !!

2007-08-01T12:22:00.000+05:30

Its strange that I had stopped writing totally and completely. Specifically, when I relate to this small space online more than I do with anything else. So what have I done since the last post. Frankly speaking nothing much. When we talked last, it was April and I had just graduated. Its 1st August today. Significantly,

1. I have joined work. I work out of Gurgaon. Go to Mumbai sometime.
2. I have a place of my own in Gurgaon. Its a small flat. I share it with a collegemate and we have loads of fun together.
3. I spend the holidays wasting and whiling away time. I taught some MBA aspirants on communication and presence. Did some NGO work for an organization. But that's about it :)

All that I have is lots of update on is my job and the city of Mumbai. Its useless to write about Gurgaon..seriously. Will write something soooner and that's a promise.

On Graduating

2007-04-13T01:15:00.000+05:30

This is my second convocation. I thought the teary farewell I bid IIT Kanpur less than four years back would be the last time I would wear a black gown and a ceremonial cap. But then, the stars decreed and I chanced upon an MBA.

This convocation brought memories of the earlier one and nostalgia, although very limited. At the last convo, I was all of 21. I felt IIT was my home, the walls were my best friends and I had grown up there rather than at my home in the city. It was IIT that taught me that friends are for keeps and not everyone is in a mad race to beat you. It taught me to trust blindly, fall and learn from my mistakes. It taught me that sometimes teachers can treasure you as their best but you still cheat them. That and so much more. It was my playground and my school and I did not want to leave. Although I often visit Kanpur, I dont visit college. If I am quoting Mir Taqi Mir correctly (and this is lifted from one of Dalrymple books):

What matters if, O breeze!
If now has come the spring
When I have lost them both
The garden and my nest?

(Its so silly that I have to quote mir in english !! deplorable I know but I don't know Urdu so well and it would take me ages to find the original in Hindi..I know its desecrating and I repent !!)

So that was IIT.Full of young dreams. I had a close to paying nothing kind of job that I took up merely because I wanted to do a job that no one had done before. Two years after college, the heady romance was over and I moved to reality. There was money to be earned, loans to be paid. I wanted to afford those costly air travels and those fabulous dresses. So, what do you do. You do an MBA. Because that is the surefire ticket to money, if nothing else, this scrounge of money making attached to an MBA made it the worst kind of parasite to me. I was shy of telling people that I was going to do an MBA. I did not give a thought to my college and made fun of the whole thing. Even the fact that I cleared an exam to make it to the college. It was that whole bias that I was doing an MBA for the worst of all sins-the greed of money. When I quit my job, I was embarassed of leaving as I liked my work. Its just that the pay was below subsistence levels. At the MBA school, what struck me first was apathy. I was neutral. I hated the rooms. They were so small. And the weather. And the city. And I felt all the people that had amassed in that college had all come with that satanic wish of earning money. How pithy...how stupid.

The two years that went by taught me a lot. That MBA is not just about learning to earn money. It is also about a whole lot of learning. It also stands for some of the same things that IIT stands for. One can still find great teachers and build bonds with them. You can still find great friends although it becomes more difficult and real friends are few. And yes, there are few chances of falling and getting up. You got to be fast in a bschool. And yes, competition is way of life. Yet, I did find selfless happiness in more ways than one. Did things that I associated no value to and was yet happiest. An MBA is a grown up college. It does not make you senteemental but it makes you thinkimental and thats a great discovery too.

As I wore the black gown and a purple sash and put the square hat on my head, I looked up and laughed at myself. Sometimes, even the things you hate the most, have something good to give. The trick lies in going and discovering.

Why I chose to be a consultant

2007-04-13T00:22:00.000+05:30

An MBA arms you not only with a degree but a great reason to earn and justify it. I am not the one who would like to do a regular 9 to 5 job and try doubly hard at it coz I need dough to support myself. I like a job that comes with no hangovers. Something that I can do today and quit tomorrow with equal elane. But as reason be it, I was born neither a pauper nor a princess but in the Great Indian Middle Class whose big travail in life is to get a "descent" job, a "descent" husband and some other bare minimum decent stuff. So, I was close on the heels of an MBA degree by March 1 when it dawned on me that it was so ridiculously important to get a job. How else would I justify the money spent on my education over the years and the fact that I was still unmarried (I dont care but it is a seriously valid concern for many). More so I had to have a great job and not just any Tom Dick Harry Job. The story being that a job looked like the be all and end all of all my troubles.

I was split between finance and consulting on March 1 with a great proportion of the split reserved for the former. Finance was the money machine, something I did during my summer internship and something I felt I had a knack for. I was not too sure of it but it seemed challenging and my name as a banker sounded mystique to a great extent. But then, did I have the nerve to put in the long hours and endlessly romance with numbers. I needed fun in what I was doing and bankers seemed so removed from everything non serious or even remotely fun. I also wanted to meet people, talk a whole lot and obviously earn good cash to support my dream wardrobe and a dream home somewhere in France. So, it was confusion in all its grandeur. On the D day, which was March 10, I told myself (while hastily applying a half smudged lisptick to parched lips and putting compact to hide those dark circles from sleepless nites) that finance be it. As I went for my first interview and was put through grueling excel sheets, numbers, valuation and what not, I said my last prayers. A consulting interview post that was that great faceswash you pine for after a hot day spent shopping. I talked and talked to my heart's content, put some jargon, some brain behind cases and ultimately liked the people I had spent 3 hours with. To me, it felt, these would be good people to work with. So kaboom. I accepted the offer.

Its a good company to talk about and everyone will congratulate. Mom Dad will be happy. But primarily and most importantly, I can still write poetry, travel and write stories about people. I can stil amass books and turn an entrepreneur the day I feel bored with my job. All that is comforting but the dawning of the knowledge that I had
turned a consultant was huge. I was the one who made fun of the consulting jargons and there new fangled models and now I was turning one myself. Obviously it was embarassing but come to think of it, that is what suits me the best.

I, the gypsy kind and the not so intelligent kind. This is the safest choice. I wish not to regret. And until I do, I wish to enjoy the good times.

Graffiti

2007-01-21T22:11:00.000+05:30

I wrote this quite some time back. I guess it was a mix of remembering college and the pain of leaving Joka. Or maybe it was just old memories. Dont know what it was but when done, it looked pretty decent. So in total absence of any creative work since a long time, posting this (at least it gives me some time to come up with something originally creative)

LONG LIVE THE GRAFFITI

Even when I am gone away
My shadow lingers to this day
Through this scratching on the wall
I will stay a superstar

In this alley, on this road
Everyone will know my name
Coz’ it’s engraved on the wall
I am still a superstar

Memories, the haunting ones
Are written down on the classroom door
It has my names and those of my friends
Our nicks etched in the panel below
Those friends are spread across seven seas
Yet there was a time when this was our world
It’s to remember that time bygone
And those friends that I could never mourn
Coz’ my soul breathes among these walls
Out here, I am still a superstar

On the crossroad, by the lamp
I met that girl who lived my dream
On the bylane by the sea
She blew me my very first kiss
We wrote our names on the rundown tree
And a heart and an arrow, in between
I forgot her name but the graffiti reminds
Coz’ its still there, a little faded but alive

Memories live through these uneven prints
And the smudged ink from a broken pen
The nicks, the names, the hearts and the games
They all live here through GRAFFITI

Alvida

2006-11-29T13:30:00.000+05:30

Wrote after a long time....felt happy that the pen still works..not so great but things will look better after sometime (hopefully)

kehne ke bahut se zariye hain magar, kehna ho alvida tumhein to kaise kahein
honth khulte hain magar kaanp kar rah jaate hain, lafzon ko nikalne ki ijaazat kaise dein,

dehleez par tum kab talak rahoge khade, paanv bahar jo nikalo to hum koi baat kahein,
na tum mein hai itna jazbaa ki gam ko jazb karo, na main hi hoon khuda ki khud ko rok sakoon,
hawa ka shor hai bas beech apne, par main dhadkan ki har awaaz kaise gart karoon,
padhke saanson ko tumhari hairat mein hain meri saansein, kahin dil se nikal jaane ki na jurrat ye karein,

kehne ke bahut se zariye hain magar, kehna ho alvida tumhein to kaise kahein
honth khulte hain magar kaanp kar rah jaate hain, lafzon ko nikalne ki ijaazat kaise dein,

hain kai shokh wadiyon ke raaste aage, tum mujhe bhool bhi sakte ho wahan par jaakar
fir kyon kadam rok kar rah jaate ho, mujhse darte ho ya khud se, ya rahte ho hakeekat se dar kar
yahin dhoondho, tumhari ungaliyon ke hain nishaan yahin, kisi daali par kurede honge hum donon ke naam
inse poocho, ye kahein kaise tumse, nahi ye bol sakte to alvida fir kaise kahein

kehne ke bahut se zariye hain magar, kehna ho alvida tumhein to kaise kahein
honth khulte hain magar kaanp kar rah jaate hain, lafzon ko nikalne ki ijaazat kaise dein,

When old memories crop up

2006-11-28T18:36:00.000+05:30

What if you are going through a pile of old letters and discovered one that you wished you never did. There are people you meet and forget- who meant a lot to you when they were around, but differences, misunderstandings, took them away. Memories like this are not welcome to your mind as it has now made a new world of its own- sans those people. So what do you do..keep that letter back where it was? or try to search that person on orkut? or write a mail of "remember me"? Maybe write a verse..

Could we be friends again and wish we never split apart
Burn down the walls that we build over time
Hope for things to fall back in place
Never make the same mistake
Yet, from the mould of memories, can you siphon out the hate and the anger
the bickerings and the harsh words, that made you a complete stranger
would you trust me again, and confide in me
and would I leave myself in your hands, forever, safely
We will be friends, but distant ones
and I will hope I will never have to face you again
We will talk but keep the past out of it
and shirk if its brought up just for old times' sake
Is it worth picking up the split glass then..
I will hurt my fingers in the act again
and maybe it will make me fonder for you
but is it possible to forge shattered memories.
I can build up my hopes in understanding you
But will you really understand me
maybe you will laugh at my sentimental mumbo jumbo, and break the shards of memories
Yet I want to give you a chance, which I did not when we turned away
Because, who knows, you might still be writing such a verse at your end.

Music and me

2006-10-26T21:06:00.000+05:30

How many of us remember what is a Kajri, Chaiti, Dadara, Thumri, Dhrupad or Khayal. Our closest relation to classical music is-its tough to thing-nothing. Two days of sheer heaven was what I discovered this week. In a special Spic Macay program, I heard two of India's greatest vocalists-Rajan and Sajan Mishra and Girija Devi. I have heard Girija Devi before, when I was 18, unable to decipher or even feel the peace that music embodies. After all these years, music takes on a new meaning when I hear it. I can close my eyes and feel my ears getting filled with honey. And, the feeling is precious. While Rajan and Sajan Mishra sang in a rotund hall I sat mesmerized. Sure, we have cassettes, CDs to reproduce the music but to hear the purest chords of music in that beautiful setting..ah only if words could describe it. And what happens when you feel that the hall is less than 1/4th full. And then, in the middle of the melody people get up and walk out. I can realize the pain, the artist feels when his art is made to feel diminutive, ancient, dying. And, I am absolutely stunned. I don't blame the hall for being less than half full but if people do not appreciate music, they should have not been here at the first place. There is a thing called respect for the arts, I am assuming it does not exist now.
In Girija Devi's recital the pain was even more heartfelt. Seeing her, 78 years of age, barely crawling to the stage to sing for us-poor morons like us-who dont know what is it that we are losing-the only thing we can call our own-our heritage. I fear that our race would also end up being like the Americans who do not know of a culture-do not know of a history except politics. I fear, we will, slowly but embarassingly, lose all that we have and replace it with something totally mediocre-having turned into a wealthy nation but a mediocre society and futures of a cultureless society is very bleak. I was ashamed when Girija Devi said, "There are not many people in this hall and I do not mind that because having few but intent listeners is better than having many disintersted ones". And then, people walked out in between the concert. I wanted to scream, to stop them, but who am I. I cannot change a generation, institute a change, move mountains, turn history around. I am merely someone who is stuck between the new and old and really wanting not to make a choice.

Back again !!

2006-08-14T21:31:00.001+05:30

Change but no change...I missed the old template so bringing it back :)
Somehow her face is too pretty to ignore and plus Braveheart complained :) The man visits my blog once in a month...can't afford to invite his wrath for sure :)

Not much to write otherwise...just missing college...a little photo for commemoration

Tata..wud take time to write now !!

Why I didn't like OMKARA

2006-08-12T10:07:00.000+05:30

Omkara was one movie I had been waiting for. Being someone who appreciated and loved Vishal Bharadwaj's previous works, Omkara was the ultimate piece de resistance.
I had loved Maqbool-it was a stark take on the Mumbai underworld with the underpinnings of tragic Macbeth. So well conceptualized-whether it be the two cops masquerading as the three witches or the struggle for power amongst the underworld substituting for the battle de royale in Macbeth-it was such a treat to watch. I keep it very high-close to Ijaazat for the craft of film making. Then Makdi-with Shabana Azmi and the little actress Shweta-was delightful because of its simplicity. It reflected of a director who was sure not getting lost in gloss to forget what essentially fim making was about. The one movie of Vishal that I have not seen is the Blue Umbrella-still looking for a VCD.
So we come back to Omkara.
Omkara is a mammoth effort because,
a) it is set in the heartlands of U.P.- a setting that has its unique difficulties in portraying
b) it tries to work with commercial stars in an "artie" film subject
c) it works on a story that has been often translated into cinema but has never been really close to the bard's work
d) it battles with the percarious line between what is more important-commercial success or cinematic glory
And, the movie does not fail at least on some counts. Where it fails, you can empathize with the director, as to why he failed on that count in the first place. It tries to make a lifeless Vivek Oberoi act-no use-he is as wooden as he always is. It tries to make an actress like Kareena Kapoor act like a typical girl in the cowbelt. Not much use-considering her "Hamein to ji" looks more artificial than most stuff in the movie. She does look much better in the scene where Ajay kills her. Majorly coz she is not speaking and only has to act helpless.
Where Omkara fails and fails miserably is that its characters lack depth. You cannot make characters only with how foul is the language they use or with what eyes do they treat woman. Yes, those are characteristic of what UPites are known for but that is not all. The character that comes close is that of Konkana and to a certain extent, Saif. Konkana's role is beautiful with the ease with which it is portrayed. She gels so gracefully into her Indu that its a treat to watch. Who would ever guess that this woman is a Bengali, who is a TamBram one day (Mr. and Mrs. Iyer), a slick jounro the other (Page 3) and a hardcore UPite behanji (Omkara). Vivek's Kesu is spineless. You can actually laugh when he talks to his Billo (Bipasha) as it looks so much like Sathiya's Vivek rather than the uncouth Kesu, he is supposed to portray. In the middle of the film, one is actually forced to question: What did Omkara really see in Kesu to make him the liutenant in the first place. His is not a character actor role and he fails to live up to it. Extremely disappointing.
Ajay Devgan is a fine actor. I agree. In Omkara too, there are scenes in which he is so natural, so starkly himself. He is dark, brooding but very, very repetitive. I saw the same Ajay in Company. Not very different. The same half crooked smile minus the expletives maybe. But the same facial expressions. Has he stopped to experiment-I am forced to ask or are the experiments limited to washouts like Golmal for Godsake. He does not get into the character of Omkara but makes Omkara get into him which is fatal to the movie. His last few scenes (before the tragic end) are not well crafted and they look like a badly sketched end, mostly.
Saif, I should commend him on the performance. He has grown and grown so well as an actor. Look at Ek Hasina Thi and you could gauge that. This is a bigger challenge. More than being a pseude villain, he is now required to be an uncouth, uncivilized but intelligent villain. As reviewers have rightly said, he is required to portray the most difficult character in Shakespeare's plays. And he makes a valiant try. His expletived don't look forced. His jealousy does not look apparent. His chaemistry does not look frothy with Indu. And that's where he succeeds. It is one of the high point of the movie when he is not crowned the lieutenant and instead shouts Kesu's name from the temple top. His expression is not astonishment, its more of sympathizing with himself. Even in his debauchery, he empathizes with himself. Its beautiful and he has acted beautifully. Except the end, which might not be his fault. In the end, its mere facts and not emotions that we get to see. Saif's acceptance of his crime is a mere 2 second gesture. Not much depth, not at all.
Kareena, I wish not to waste words on her. Inspite on the non makeup look and the salwar kameez, she looks every bit as filmi as she really is. I do not for a second felt that she is as innocent and pure as she is portrayed to be. Although she is dressed mostly in white, there is that artificialness that takes away her purity that she is supposed to represent.
The movie has well shot scenes, specifically the marriage rituals are well depicted (the ubtan scene) and the old lady is amazing !! It does remind me of home, many a times. But no, not always. It takes away the purity of the feeling by mixing filmdom with reality.
I still love Maqbool and I still believe Vishal is a terrific director. And so, I will wait for him to write another epic, direct another film and take more KonkonaS and less KareenaS maybe.

CASTaway

2006-08-12T09:51:00.000+05:30

I do not have the copyright to that title as that's one of the many scribbles on a piece of limestone that I utterly want to get rid of. In a freak accident not much long back, I slipped over two stairs and dislocated an ankle bone.
Yes, it was two stairs.
And I did dislocate a bone.
How the hell...I have no idea. The sensible thing, according to me would have been to put a crepe bandage on the bone and let it self heal but the doc (as all docs are) was so damn excited to put a plaster on me that he paid no heed to all my logics about-self healing, "bone dislocation does not need a plaster", "there can't be muich damage by just falling over a couple of stairs".
Until the plaster, 'twas still ok. The nail in the coffin came when they gave me a couple of crutches to go with it-as if, the plaster wasn't trendy enough !! So, voila there I was. Suspended on the crutches and carrying the trendy plaster-I sure looked great !! I have had freak things happening to me in the past but believe me, nothing has been as freaky as this. As friends visit (and incidentally also get chocolates for me) and scribble graffiti on "it", I lie down and dream of the leg-happy and active life I once lived. God, get this plaster off, before I start peeling it myself !!

Are we impatient...really?

2006-08-05T22:06:00.000+05:30

Few weeks back, at a sparsely filled auditorium, I heard a teacher telling me about the fallacies of my generation. He said that he only had one complain from the gen next..they are in too much hurry. They can't wait for results or for efforts to materialize. They feel that makes them proactive. They feel that it increases the speed of implementation but what it does infact is stops them from evaluating all round perspectives. It struck chord with me and it reminded me of all those times when I had hurriedly pressed for results, solutions, answers. I had not waited, not encompassed the length and breadth of the problem before jumping the gun.
I saw it in so many things then. The way we react to issues now. Yes, we are proactive but are we also missing the point alltogether. The way our generation has reacted to issues like reservation or the pesticides in cola issue, for example. The attitude has seeped in everywhere. Majorly, the media which does not waste even a minute before reporting, reacting and blowing up things into issues. Was it not a much safer and tolerant world a few years back when we understood and talked to each other instead of debating and engaging into a diatribe without wasting a moment.
I see the attitude in my college, among my juniors, who profess to not stand by things without even feeling the whole of it. They form opinions without even giving the issue a chance or the people, for that matter of fact. It is diabolical, the whole of it. Do we just want a few moments of glory, a moment in the sun to prove ourselves. Have we lost any mettle of our own or have we lost patience, basically.

Just my luck

2006-07-11T21:41:00.000+05:30

I was never a big believer in luck. Good or bad. I believed in people, myself, hard work and the "tit for tat" theory. All this was until I met Mr. Bad Luck. In the US, our meeting wasn't at the best of times. And I wish I had more to say to him rather than "what Bad Luck" from time to time. And those three four weeks of sheer Bad Luck made me come face to face with this big mysterious word called Luck. Is my luck good? Or its that of an average person? Is it predecided, what would happen to me in future? Is it written somewhere between the lines on my palm? And if it is so, do I want to know it?
What if I knew where I would be 10 years from now? The blue eyed prince of my dreams would marry someone else. The big fat paycheck job I have been so proud of would be stolen away from me. So many What ifs. And what if I knew I will be the happiest person on earth? Would I still resist the temptation of knowing it? Why should one not know the future? Is it because it reduces your effort function in the present day or it takes away your motivation to even try for something better.
I have been trying to tackle this question since sometime and yet haven't got an answer. There is this funny movie on the same theme starring Lindsay Lohan that I saw back in the US. It talks about a woman who has this great luck before she meets someone and loses it all. Funny story and pretty naive movie. But it still makes me think deeper into the question of future and all its ramifications. What if I knew?

My 2 words on rejection

2006-07-05T21:14:00.000+05:30

Well. I thought I will write this sooner or later. But wanted to come out of the hangover first. Rejection is a nasty thing. More so when you have been ultra sure of yourself and it hits you right in the face. I have been a lucky individual. I have been able to get things without much murky ditches to cross. I thought it was a pattern and got comfortable. What happened this summer is enough to shake my high headedness at least. It is kind of a reality check though. I was afraid I would not be able to handle it and the reaction early on was that of breakdown. It seemed I was blaming myself and drowning in self guilt. For a day or two it seemed all eyes were fixated on me. Everyone was questioning me, asking me for reasons, explanations. I wanted to run away to people who know me the most. But then that would be cowardice and no, I did not want to be coward, not yet.

Looking back two weeks, it seems all happens for some purpose, some higher aim. Whatever happened to me was more because of myself so why was I blaming the world around me. I still have a happy life, friends who care, people to love, my parents to cherish. If not this, there will be better, bigger things in life. I should cross my fingers and attempt, not stall.

Its all in the mind.
I being great and you being nada...zilch
It is just a matter of you seeing me through rose colored glasses
and I seeing you through the gap between my fingers
Mere reflections we are..
I must let you get away from me
coz then and then alone I will realize my diminutiveness
and you will realize that you can touch the sky...

Its time I let myself go. I know not what I may do.

I am scared of dreams

2006-06-27T21:05:00.000+05:30

Life's unfair. Don't you and I know.
Why do we see dreams and hope to hope.

The days when we crawled to see the sky.
You held my hand and I held yours tight.
But the heavens turned their eyes aside.
We were always the loners in our empty sky.

You tell me, this world ain't meant for us
that we should run from it, far away
and I should see my dreams in your dreamless eyes
and thats how life will be every day.

I want to differ. To tell you, I am a dreamer
But no more. I am scared of dreams.
I am scared they might never turn true.
And I will lose both, the dreams, and you.

Choice isn't mine. It's not even yours.
It's his choice what he wants us as.
As puppets in his hands or birds in his sky.
I will live, if he lets you survive.

Fate is cruel. Don't you and I know.
Why do we see dreams and hope to hope.

All hell broke loose

2006-06-13T12:13:00.000+05:30

Just when it seemed, I would be able to write a post on my happy USA stay story, it happened. I lost my passport-the night before setting off for home. All I could feel was desperation, wanted to kill myself for doing such a blunder. Just a week back, the local cleaner had lost two of my suits and the passport neatly tucked in the breast pocket of one of the suits slipped away. The flight was at 9.20 pm the other day and all that went across my mind in the morning was that I got to go home today. It was also my final day at work so there were so many bbyes to be said. After hurrying through a final evaluation, I ran to the embassy, only to find to my utter surprise that a plethora of documental and paperwork needed to be done for anything substantial to happen. I never cry in public..being the strong girl I have always thought I was. But, at that time I broke down. Nothing was happening and I felt so alone and lost in a foreign country. Missed home, missed friends and missed my country. With hours of running and hopeless crying, I was at square one even at 2 pm on the day, with not even a morsel of food in my stomach over more than 20 hours. It was then that Lehman reached out and talked to the deputy consulate general. The IIT-IIM connection sprang to action and in a moment, the consulate became extra genial to me. With most documentation taken care of, I was granted the duplicate passport at 4 pm on the same day. I was so touched by the support of a company, I was only interning for. I was also amazed at the kind of empathy an organization can show for its people and how much the IIT-IIM tag counts. I was relieved and burdened by the kindness. Running to the airport in a hurry, I was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing home in less than 48 hours.

Then, the bad luck wheel again poked its head up. I could not board the British Aairways flight bcoz it passed thorugh London and I did not have a valid transit UK visa. All I could board was a direct flight to India. Learning of this news at the nth hour..crashed me. It was so depressing that night, carrying back my luggage from the airport back home, not being sure even how will I ever reach home. I called up Lehman again, requesting them to fix a flight for me. With such a short notice, all I could get was a business class seat on Continental the only non stop flight between US and India. I wasn't crazy about travelling business class, knowing pretty well that all I earned in the last two months was being spent on this airplane seat just because I wanted to get back home ASAP. The service was excellent and the dinner was marvellous. I asked for a pinot noire Red Wine to soothe my nerves and drank a bit too much of it. Was utterly drunk in a few hours and slumped into the extendible seat. Opened my eyes, close to the time the plane landed. Being back at home was relieving and I wished my bad luck period had ended. I could not afford another round of misfortunes. What a last week !!

The tourist in me-2

2006-06-08T17:58:00.000+05:30

Work again. And I am so not in the working mood. Its almost time to go home and I can feel the troubles of a new semester at business school knocking my head down. Between luncheons, dinners and breakfast meetings, I am slowly trying to wrap up my work and then gear up for a grilling flight back home.

Continuing the tourist update, I shan't miss talking about Niagara, the more tourist place to go. I wanted to see the falls because I had seen them in postcard photos and thought it would be great to see something so powerful and elegant by my own eyes. Niagara happens to be in New York-bet, you didn't know that-the state, I mean but it takes some 12 hours to just get to the place. Boarding the cheapest thing we could find on the internet, we finally set off on a sleepy Saturday morning. The thing that we bought on the net was a tourist tour done by a Chinese bus company-sounds shady !! I hate a bus tour simply coz it gives no time to you to o your own thing. You can't carry out your heart's will that is. But, at US of A, we did not find nething cheaper than this tour and finally succumbed to the cost benefit analysis.

The bus we boarded was full of INDIANS. Not for a moment would you feel homesick in that bus. It did have a few Chinese-the ratio would be 1:10 and even some Americans..!! The journey was a solid 12 hour haul with a break at a glass musician in the middle of nowhere. Corning Glass is the world's biggest glass making facility and the museum displayed history and facts abt glass. At best, it was okay. Didn't think twas nething great. It seemed to be more like an archway to the gift shop where Corning sells beautiful glass pieces priced in an outrageously insane fashion.

I bought a small tinkering bell. Thought it might be good just for kicks !! and a glass candle stand for a friend. I was so sleepy by the time we landed at Niagara that all I wanted was the comfort of a nice, comfy bed. But, the falls surprised me.
They are kinda the best thing I have seen in a long time. Set between a flange of mountains, the water falls from a majestic height over the rock bed on the surface. The force is so great that all one can see of the falls is a foamy mist unless you are really close. That makes picture shooting insanely tough. At night, as the sun set I heard and saw the waterfall. The noise being enough to mute one down. I saw the birds flying over the water back to the safety of their migratory hatching nests. And, then I felt homesick. :) maybe it was the birds or the fatigue, don't know.

After the night darshan of the falls, the guide did give us a comfy place to stay for the night. There, I slept like a baby. All fresh in the morning, I was famished. Ontario being a non-busy place like NY, no food joint was working at the unearthly hour of 7 am. Voila, what did we come across then. An Indian place, right in the middle of the Niagara falls hoopla. Wasn't I happy !! As me and the rest of the Indian crowd marched in, we temptingly looked up the menu and the whole Indian gourmet spread was there. Unfortunately the diner only served chola bhatura at that time.. so not much of a choice. But I think its stupid to complain. The Chinese people were fighting hard to adjust to the chola bhatura place. Some even ordered the Chola and were wondering what on earth it was supposed to be. Most of us had a good laugh at that !!!

The morning was booked for taking boat and sailing right under the falls. The MAID OF MIST as the trip the falls is fondly called is a journey to uncharted waters. Taking you directly under the American falls and then bang close the Canadian falls-it was the most awesome thing one can do. Looking at oneof nature's deightful paradises right in front of your nose was great !! Later in the evening we found out cranks and nooks to take snaps and were even able to catch glimpse of the rainbow that forms between the falls and the Canadian side. Coming back home- I was pleased. The Trip had not turned out to be as bad as I thought it will be, considering the cheap Chinatown bus and all that. And in the end I think I ended up enjoying more than I ever expected to.

Now to go back and look at some last minute stuff, reminders etc. Lets hope I don't forget anything.

The tourist in me-1

2006-06-01T16:58:00.000+05:30

Another one week and my summer sojourn would draw to an end. I have not been much of a tourist during the last two months but the little I have explored is worth sharing. The holidays are few and far between and not all weekends qualify as holidays-therefore much less room for recreational indulgences. The two trips I made outside the city were to Atlantic City and Niagra Falls. AC and Niagara are alike and apart in many respects and are the more "conventional" to visit places for a NY resident. Also had the chance to visit the famed Museums of NY - the history museum, modern arts etc. Did the obligatory Statue of Liberty tour too. The funniest part about the trips is the mix of people I come across at these places-around 50% is Chinese and the rest is Indians. Comparing it to the fact that the BRIC countries are just experiencing the high growth rate, salaries and higher living standards, the populace is slowly climbing the ladder and going GLOBAL.

AC is a city in New Jersey. It's single claim to fame maybe around 20 years back would have been the ocean it is situated next to. Its the farthest end of the Americas next to-you guessed it right-Atlantic Ocean. The new "hep" thing about AC is the casinos. It is supposedly the poor man's Vegas or the casino land of the east-crowded with a slew of casinos. Boarding a bus that was "supposedly" to take us to the city-we got marooned somewhere in between. The bus service is only marginally better in the US(maybe in terms of cleanliness) as compared to India and Greyhound which is the oldest bus company in the US is no good at "customer service". Bored and exhausted, we finally set foot on the casino city. Through the bus tour, I had seen people flipping through guides on poker, blackjack, How to get lucky with slot machines...can you really make money in a game of pure chance..was what I asked myself.

Since I am such a big water lover, I could not wait to see the ocean. But what we saw was a sore disappointment. The beach was dirty though the sea was strong, powerful and cleaner than average water bodies in India. As I stood there, watching the waves wash on my feet and wetting me, I longed for home. Only if I could swim and cross the seas and be at the place I love the most. When my day dream got over, we set off to the farther end of the beach. It was mostly deserted and there were people selling "POT", lovers nestling with each other and the likes. There sitting on a jutting reef, I closed my eyes and heard the wind and the ocean rushing through my head. It was great. Undoubtedly tha part about AC I enjoyed the most. As the sun set, we set out for our casino round. Donald Trump, the millionaire who hosts the Apprenticeruns this pricey casino called Trump Taj Mahal which is awkwardly designed to be some kind of cross between Indian, Arabic and some grotesque architecture. I have little idea about how conscious are architects of casinos on aesthetics but what I saw before me was some golden minarets and something that looked like Indian craft. Within this TAJ MAHAL were housed thousands of slot machines, roulette tables, black jack and poker experts. I stuck to slot machines as a) they eat up money slowly and b) they seemed easier to experiemnt with for a novice. Although I spend a couple of hours fiddling with the slot machines trying to get combination that can throw up some money for me but no good. All I got was "zilch". No regrets though, I never expected much. Tired from the slot machines, in the wee hours of night we set off back to home, sleeping and yawning.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
for travel enthusiasts:

way to reach: take the Greyound from NY - best connection to AC. They also have a special ticket that covers transport as well as gives some discount for casinos too. That is a must buy.

what to do: I would recommend the beach and not the casinos. There is also an old lighthouse within the city that overlooks the ocean. Must visit.

what to eat: there are a very few vegetarian choices available but the roadside pizza stores can cook up something veg if asked. Beer is quite cheap though and can be gien a try.

what to buy: souvenirs didn't look so good. So cant recommend much.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

updating about me

2006-05-20T03:34:00.000+05:30

I know I havent written in a long time. Wont say I havent had time but i ran out of creative juices for a while. I have been in the US for almost a month now and what a month it has been. I am at the tail end of my summer internship at NY these days and "the work" is the best part abt my US stay until now.

Work- Something I have really fallen in love with. Having been in the work grind before, I know how sick working life can be so it is good to feel refreshingly happy with a work that I enjoy. This, by far, is the most I have enjoyed working. Even if I dont end up working with this firm, I would still like to work in finance. It excited me to make money and deal with it.

US - mixed thoughts. Last time I was here, I hated it. Dallas was not the best places to be on earth but it was the aridity of the life that struck me the most. NY by far, is the most happening city on the planet and there is never a moment when I get bored of it. There are people milling all around, whenever I walk on the street and more than that there is life breathing everywhere. The weather is a sore point but then Cal is million times worst than this and beggars ain't any good choosers.

People- at the company, GREAT. Most people are as intelligent as they seem to be. They are great at their work and they are great to talk to. They mill a lot of money but have their heads still on their shoulders. I would love to be like some of them some day, as intelligent and as precise. So, all in all..great learning. Would have missed so much by not coming (if I would have decided to)

At home, well its my IIMC crowd. Don't want to cross political lines by saying a lot so comments reserved to a later date.

Nothing new to update more than this. Would be home by 11th. After a short stay at Hyderabad, would be at Cal again. Hoping to write something intermittently.

The visit to the Planetarium

2006-02-13T13:00:00.000+05:30

Its been close to an year and I have not seen the Birla Planetarium. Its 10 minutes from Masi's place-I still haven't seen it. On Saturday, when the client for whom I am doing this Non-Profit counsulting assignment failed me, I decided to go for a peek into Cal. A crowded bus brought me to Victoria (No I havent even been inside that)which alas, was closed for the day (it was just 5.05..the thing closes at 5..what bad luck). A small walk into the lateral gardens around Victoria brought me to the Birla Planetarium. Its a rotund and white building with a placard outlining the timings and languages for the presentations. I checked the watch-it was barely 5.30 but the show was Bangla. Heck, who cares, I told myself. I will just watch. Shelling out 20 bucks for the ticket, I walked inside a sparsely populated auditorium. Soon, lights were off. And then, it happened. A blanket of stars, just above my head appeared on the round surface. I watched-miraculously amazed. My eyes were wedded to the sight then and there. It might really sound funny but I have never seen stars shine so bright or felt so peaceful in darkness. In times such as ours, how many of us even have a terrace where you can lie down and look at stars. How many of us evne have the privilege to look at a clear, silent sky. I assume that was why the sight appeared so outstandingly pleasant to me. Sure, the announcer talked to us about the constellations, the planets, the galaxy and the milkyway. But I waited expectantly for the sky to turn starry again. I know the account might seem bizarre but it just seemed so naturally nice to me. It made me wonder why didn't I come here earlier sometime.

Up awake from slumber

2006-02-13T12:20:00.000+05:30

Was under hibernation for sometime. Doing nothing dramatically unusual..just the normal sleeping affair. Three stories to share:

1. The Calcutta Book Fair
2. The visit to the planetarium
3. Watched Park Avenue at last

To start with, the Book Fair. Calcutta is quite an elite city-though on surface you might now find any signs of the so called enlightenment, the city claims to possess, there are rich cultural underpinnings to the place. The Bengalis are a well read community and that impresses me coz' the land I come from has produced one of the best writers of the country but who reads them-who even remembers a Harivansh Bacchan or a Mahadavi Verma or a Jayshankar Prasad. Bengalis preserve their culture. For them a Satyajit Ray movie was a masterpiece as much in the yesteryear as today. The Calcutta Book Fair is also a strong symbolic display of this culture. After delaying the thought of marching upto Maidan in a bus-tram-metro combo, I finally took the leap on a hot, dry Saturday. The Book Fair-inspite of being one of the biggest events of the year for the Cal denizens, is severely unmanaged. After treading through a dustladen pathway where all types of vendors (yeah, you find people selling local denims outside a book fair !!) would appear from nowhere to block your way. After the long drwan struggle one manages to reach the ticket window which is btw...absolutely empty !! While I am wondering how on earth could this happen, I see a long queue and this is not JUST long, its as long as the whole stretch of the pavillion. So, the stranger in Neverland that I was, I joined the patient line. So Mr. Ghosh wants to move ahead of me because they have a crying child and Mrs. Banerjee pushes me unmercifully coz' of God alone knows what reason. Well, I finally reach the gates of the erstwhile Book Fair and well, I am amongst the small ignorant lots with a ticket. The rest straddle in with some or the other pass or on the pretext of being one of the organizer...I salute the Bangla Land. Inside, the stalls are crazily marked with numbers mostly in Hindi or tucked in some unforseen corner of the stall. I was looking for a number 391-My masi is the editor of a Hindi magazine which was being launched on the day of the book fair. I thought I would drop in and help her out. But, how on earth do I find the stall !! So I ask Mr. X who doesn't know Hindi/English or even symbol language. I ask Mr. Y- well he has no time. I go to the Helpdesk-they too (how coincidental) don't know a word of Hindi and English. Alice got lost in Bookland. So I walked and walked and walked and after getting lost zillion of times, reached the humble little stall of Hindi books in a bylane. Godsent sight-I saw Masi, then spent sometime with the small little Hindi speaking gathering which had come together for the launch of that rookie magazine.

I had a huge list of books to be bought in the book fair. There weren't any English books because as well known to most of us, English books are widely avaialable, no matter where you are. The big problem is with Hindi books-No one reads them though there is a small clutch of writers that still writes painstakingly. In the small stall that hosted Masi''s magazine, I began my book hunt. Well, what a joy it was. I wanted to buy all-from Safdar Hashmi to Rahi Masoom Raza; from Mannoo Bhandari to Ismat Chugtai; from Jayshankar Prashad to Bacchan. Bought 10 books-a myriad set ranging from Mohan Rakesh, Rahi Masoom Raza, Bhishm Sahni, Shrilal Shukla and Hazariprasad Dwivedi. Was too happy to even feel the pain in my legs or the dirt in my eyes. Sat down to talk to Masi then. Discovered some realities then-there are only 2 stalls of Hindi books in the fair. Seems surprising, shocking...no..very expected. Who buys Hindi Books these days? The Hindi teachers, the MA Phd students..who else...and why do we care...?

Me and Masi took a round of the Book Fair then. Trying to find the Bhartiya Jnanpith stall. Went all around the ground 2-3 times-all I saw were Bengali books, English books..even Spanish books/Australian books. What is happening to this country? Why do we carry the charade of having a national langauge when we can't even show a morsel of respect for it? Why do we still have prizes for best writings in Hindi/Sanskrit? Who cares for these dead languages? Few weeks back, I saw some ceremony commemorating the death anniversary of Harivansh Rai Bacchan. Heard Kavi Neeraj speak in the gathering. I saw the old age, the bent back and the pain of being a writer who does not know whom to write for. We praise Urdu. We go gaga over Ghazals. But how many of us go and buy the dust laden Hindi literature. A Harivansh Rai Bacchan is remembered as the father of a fimstar and not as a celebrated poet. He won't be happy if he is looking down from wherever he is.

Munching on these facts and some Muri, I straddled back to college. With my huge load of books and a heart heavy with the same sadness I felt when I went to buy Hindi books at a shop in Kanpur which closed due to dearth of buyers. Something needs to be done...what..I am still wondering.

RDB-disturbingly brilliant

2006-01-30T12:13:00.000+05:30

Its not often that I tread out of the campus for an onerous trip to the erstwhile Calcutta city to catch "another one of the treadmill" movies in a costly cineplex. This time, however, i would have been damned if I didn't make an exception. This was a movie I had been waiting for since long. I was anticipating, how on earth could a director, bring old fashioned patriotism into contemporary lives and make sense of all that. I was also wondering why the songs were not letting me into what the movie would be like. Listen to a Mangal Pandey score, a Lagaan score...very predictable all of these. RDB does not and will not let you in until you take a peek-a-boo into the movie itself. Mr Mehra, I have been a fan of your direction ever since I watched Aks, the very few who saw the movie and loved it. I failed to understand then, why reviewers, crowds et al failed to see the honesty in the film, the undoubtable brilliance and more than anything else, passion...something that makes you sit up and take notice. Even if it was a subject as morose as ghosts, good vs evil, reincarnation what not..the movie made you think. I wished Mr Mehra was given another chance to show the world, his real worth. The Karan Johars, Mr Vermas, Mr Ghais his real mettle. And what a chance this was...

Rang De Basanti is a brilliant movie-a movie that makes you sit up and take notice. How many movies have stayed with you days after you are done with it. How many movies have rooted you to your seats. How many movies have made you question your self worth. How many movies have to be described as only two words "Disturbingly brilliant". The movie had all that I expected of Mr Mehra and Mr Khan. Both perfectionist in their own right. The movie is great because of the way it splits apart into two halves, both halves endearing but very contrasting. In the first half, where college frolic and fun is predominant and life is sugar sweet. There are charming prince on horse, the cosy friend gang, the budding love, the scenic Delhi..everything. And the second half, well I won't let anything out. But it just makes sense after watching the second half, why the first half had to be created. Why we were made to get lost in the dreamlike world of DJ, Sukhi, Karan, Soniya, Aslam, Sue and Ajay. I said listening to the score before watching the movie made me wonder what the movie is about. Just take a minute and get amazed at how the songs actually find their place in the movie. It just shocks you. I realized then, that Mr Mehra has a winner on his hands. RDB is not an epistle that pushes you to take notice or spring into action. The movie in effect never pushes you to do anything. Never tells you to love your country or feel any respect whatsoever for revolutionaries. It never evokes unnecessary sympathy for the gang. Never. It just tells a story without pushing moral cereals through your throat. It just expects an intelligent audience coz for others the movie would not make sense. Just like Aks the movie does not have a broad mass appeal but it has a passion at the heart of it which would make it priceless for the few who watch it. I dont care if the movie is a hit or a flop but the message it has tried to put across, should be heard. That would solve the mission of movies like RDB and many others. The music score is captivating-Rahman is a brilliant music director but sometimes fails to connect- this times however he connects, clicks and charms all together. Talking on performances. It would waste space to talk about Mr Khan-he is above words now. He can make a briliant mark when he wants to and this time it was all evident that he wanted to. Sharman Joshi-what a revelation he was. His character was not like others-he was a kid with bright eyes but he still believes in his friends and that belief shows. Soha, that girl has potential and its time she does something with it. Madhavan, well I love that chap :) so my views would be biased.

If you havent , would recommend a must watch. Whether to love it or not, you can decide post the watch. But the movie deserves a chance...and would live upto it.

Happiness-where art thou?

2006-01-22T13:41:00.000+05:30

If you know the key to your happiness-it is a great discovery. I made that discovery around seven years back and since then I have been the most lucky girl I knew. Life has thrown back its head and laughed over my naive satisfaction. When I wanted to stop, settle down and reach out and grab that key it has put another hurdle to cross. So much so that the distance kept on increasing...what looked like infinitesimal steps is almost a rift now. And no matter how much I throw my arms around I cant reach it-not now-dont know when. This helplessness has begun to show on my sunken eyes, my sarcasm at all kinds of accomplishments, the looks of a beggar...the making of a queen. Another year, two years, just one more...its been a long time...My key has waited, patiently for me to come back and unlock doors to my satisfaction but my feet have been rooted. Fate has just twisted my arm and taken me across continents, far from its reach. Some day, I tell myself..I would just suspend life..halt it and live it the way I want it. With my happiness at the helm of my decisions.

Dreams

2006-01-18T21:52:00.000+05:30

A verse about growing up and losing the innocence of love...

Do you still dream of our favorite boulevard?
of holding hands, unfettered, unseen
of laughing like two maverick birds in the sky
Saying those words, taking the plunge
Of undying promises, unseen territories
two clueless wanderers in a star strewn galaxy

Do you still miss those lazy evenings?
Those walks on the old bridge
Fighting for stolen apples near the neighborhood orchard
Carving names on the old birch trees
Of hidden treasures on the rooftop
Of playing hide and seek in the palm grove

Do you miss my voice that woke you up from slumber?
Of watching movies in a dingy theatre
Of running in the rain. Opening mouths to taste the sky.
Pretending to study in the local library
My eyes fixed on you and the pages kept turning by themselves

Do you not miss times that have gone and would never return?
No matter how much I call them back
The earth and the sky. The home that I miss.
The courtyard where we grew
When love was unsaid, unheard, unfelt
It was just there. Always for us.
Why is it so that it went away
surreptitiously.
Did it not like us growing up
or was it slow enough that it failed to keep up....

Why touchy about a brand !!!

2006-01-13T23:26:00.000+05:30

"Plea to Preserve the IIT Brand and Build Complementary Brands to Serve
India " hosted on the web by PetitionOnline.com, the free online petition service,
at: http://www.PetitionOnline.com/SaveIITs/

Long back, when I had heard about IT BHU becoming an IIT or Roorkee joining the fray, I too had fears about the government doing something absolutely uncalled for. I felt it was taking something that genuinely just belonged to a select few, away from me. It has been many years since that renaming happened and look at the effect it has caused:

1. BHU is still known better as BHU and much less as an IIT. It still is not included with the other IITs in a general recall sense. Other than the official privileges extended to the institute, I can't see how much part the IIT brand has played in its success story.

2. Roorkee-again the same logic plays its part. The general recall as an IIT is very low. It is better known as Roorkee and enjoys its very own standing and stature.

So the funny part is even if the rebranding happens in the sense of few other institutes becoming IITs, it will not really make such a big difference. As a brand, IIT can only take you through to a little distance but after all it is only you as a person who will drive your efforts in life's arena. The significance of the IIT brand is indisputable-I would never exchange my alma mater for anything else in the world but I don't think it is the only thing that would define me.

I study currently in another one of those ELITIST institutions, the IIMs. The funny part about IIMs is also their whole obsession with their brand-which unlike IITs is almost the sole asset they have !! (IITs as all of you would agree would still be the best places to study if you take away the name IIT-alas, it isnt the same with IIMs). And Government is a much more patient audience to the IIMs pleas against giving IIM status to any other institute but-lo behold what has happened- ISB, with no IIM tag, absolutely no government help, has come up and is giving some very serious competition to the IIMs. So much so that the IIMs have also started a one year MBA program now. So much that IIM Bangalore is moving earth and heaven to open a campus in Singapore.

What does this mean? It means that a brand does not mean anything. You can give the tag to 100 institutes. If you dont spread the spirit-it will never mean anything. In the same way, if IITians also think that their brand name is the sole asset they have-it will never mean anything....

IIT brand name has helped companies in getting projects from the US-well, the phoren people are not dumb. They come at IIMs to recruit people for summers and yes, they love IITians. But that is just an exam you qualified, an institute you attended. If at the end of it, you do not have the brains to prove it-they will chuck you out. Amongst my batchmates at IIM, there are many who think that the IIT name would steer them through everything and were left stranded, wondering - where went the whole point of encashing on their alma mater's brand name.

Whether you sign the petition or not. Whether government actually makes all colleges as IITs, it will never dissolve the brand. If something will dissolve the brand-it will be through us, the IITians.

If we dont go out and prove the kind of abilities expected from an IITian, we are as good as anyone else from any other college. If the current students feel that the brand name will be their Godfather all their life, its a mistake. IIT only gives you the top place at the start line-whether you win or you dont depends on how you run !!!

Age

2006-01-04T18:01:00.000+05:30

Age is like this little squirrel
Which passes by leaving baby footprints
etched in thoughts, they stay awhile
before getting lost in the sands of time

The little squirrel runs fast
The realization of an year spend, sinks slower than that
Age does not keep books to look over
to turn back and discover how the year really went
Good deeds or bad; go-getter or loser
Time does not stop to take stock
It is another year, and just like the last one
Life must move on.

An year is a sign, that there is less time
to dream dreams that the child had planned to dream
to build castles that always looked down upon him
to read books that he collected in his treasure trove
and there is less time to spend with the world around him
with the little circle he grew up in
Age takes a toll for everyone
More grey hairs, broken teeth, bent backs
every passing year.

On the brighter side, there are new born infants with toothless smiles
with angel like faces and dreamy blue eyes
Age is meaningless for them-they have an eternity to live
In the circle of life, its only a point they have traversed

Age is no preacher
It is just a tact of time
It does not pat the back for an year well spent
It does not chide for a rotten one even

It rings a bell to fulfill dreams coz' time is scarcely there
and there is ever scarcer time to show love for those you care

A story-not so well written...

2005-12-20T23:13:00.000+05:30

OVER AND OUT

Well, where do I start? How do I begin to begin telling you about myself? Or else, do you care to know me...whatever, I would still go through the bother of forcing you to lend me your ears. After all, you chose to browse through this page and read this trashy story. The story about me. From my huge sentences and highly uncomprehendable English you must have guessed that I am a woman. I have been on this planet for 30 years and though I am not a huge fan of life, its not been a bad road after all. Maybe I drove rash, a few roads here and there. Maybe I ran out of fuel and was stuck on those few turns but over and above I came out unscathed.

Being a woman makes life so much easy on some counts and uphill on many others. There were times I could wring my way out of situations by just the little flirtish glance and the fluttering of eyelashes. Not that I have much charm to show off but still the limits to which I could use it were exciting. Then again there were times when I could give anything for being a man for a split second. Times when I was told I was not "strong enough". They might have as well said "not man enough". As if I care.

Fighting for myself in the bad bad world was something I enjoyed at the start. Clinching things which were not meant for me; Browbeating men who thought themselves as the center of the universe; Showing the worth of brains when it was least expected-But then few years back the game of winning and losing lost its charm for me. Being called a "selfish bitch" by men; a "ruthless go-getter" by women and safely avoidable by everyone else. Being a nice person at heart didnt help much either. Being unhooked to the safe creature called a boyfriend was another black mark in my personality.

When we touch the sensitive point of boyfriend-I have a big bad history. Breakups were frequent and fast. I never liked someone enough to get along with for more than a month. The sudden flashes of brilliance were great. I love men for how intelligent they can really be, sometimes. Most of the other times, they are plain drab, common stuff-with all their prototype men like characteristics.

The few rare members of the opposite sex who have really made me feel interested in a relationship or something that comes close to it have been taken even before I set my eyes on them. The guy I met on the subway for instance. The sly smile and the lanky frame arrested my eyes for quite some time before I heard the sob story about a certain lovelorn girlfriend.

Or maybe X too. X is the finest specimen of his species-at least that's what he believes. Which again leads him to claim that he has drop dead gorgeous looks which could even slay me. Well, I knew X for ages. Friends and all that. I was never attracted. There was just too much loud mouth frontality about the guy. But then, that one day when he bent on his right knee to propose to me, only a stone could have managed a no. The rock solid girl I was-even I found it super hard to manage an indifferent smile. X has always idolized his perfect girl in me-the reasons for the same are hardly comprehendible to me-this even drives me to believe that X is nuts and can't think straight. But I have had other priorities like climbing the ladder faster than the others; making plans, strategies what not; reading poetry but never sensing it; feeling love but never-just never-accepting it.

X has been mine for years now. Every year, I get bouquets of red roses on my doorstep. He is always the convenient shoulder to rest my head on. Also the perfect pillar to throw my brickbats at. He has always told me on each one of my birthdays that I am his girl and he would be damned if I ever found someone else. Well, for his pleasure, I am not on the lookout. There isn't any time for that. There are better, bigger things on hold.

But then, the world turned upside down yesterday. Was it not my birthday yesterday? Why was I then all alone and grumpy in my house all day? Why weren't there any roses on my doorstep or any friends that I could celebrate with? No phone calls to wish me; no one to care. I was not really sad but more on the lines of shocked. For the first time in 10 years, X has not showed up. He is plain and simple, out of reach on his mobile. Not that I call him very often but I at least expect him around on my special day. It seems my prerogative now. I called up friends, family..everyone who was anyone to X but zilch. I was worried as hell. I never really care about anyone-never for this silly man who has wooed me for all these years-but then why am I really getting mushy all of a sudden. "Change of heart, eh", I ask myself. There are no clear answers. I can guess this little anxiety I am feeling inside. The sudden urge to pick up my car keys and give the guy a surprise at his flat become overpowering. But I have never really bent down ever, have I. Why make an exception now. Maybe X forgot the birthday, seems remote, but maybe he did. Why do I expose myself by feeling at a loss at him forgetting the day. Not required, no.

Arguments seem baseless now. I'd rather do something rather than fighting it out within myself. I persuaded myself to believe that this is a mere friendly gesture-just to find if X is ok or not. The car keys finally spring into action. I drove across the town to the small flat on the high street. His flat is just like him. Small, non entity, condescending. What luck, the door is unlocked. A sudden color sprang to my cheeks. Hell, I know why I am here and I'd rather be a good girl and accept it. I am too old to blush anyways.

The door is ajar, and stepping in, I see flowers strewn across the hallway. Well, he did intend to bring in the flowers. Maybe he just didn't feel upto it. The sudden crackle of laughter broke my thoughts. The laugh was infectious. A girl's laugh. A girl. In his flat. It was X's flat. Wasn't it.....There was not much explaining that I needed. It seemed like a blur. X coming out and explaining about the whirlwind wedding. The beautiful young bride.

Hey, what happened to us. I sure can't ask that...only if I could shake him up and ask him...couldn't you ask me one last time ????

How is IIMC different from IITK-1

2005-12-12T18:13:00.000+05:30

This is one series I was thinking of writing since a long time. It is a "series" as I have impending exams and so would write little, but of significantly higher value :D. Now this topic is something I have grappled with ever since I have come to IIMC. I have tried to compare the two institutions in my mind and have always thought that it makes for an interesting discussion between friends; Well my two pence for your perusal:

IIMs draw a lot of cultural inspirations from IITs, providing a similar setting and administrative system and almost holding a similar regard in the society. IIMC borrows most of its culture from IIT Kgp as a) amongst all IITians that make up this place, the majority are Kgpians and b) Both Kgp and IIMC grapple with the same issues-the problem of being an autonomous institute in West Bengal; of being stranded in a state which does not have much of a city life to offer c) Maybe the first few entrants, the culture making beginners at this place would have included a few Kgpians and their backgrounds would have affected the way traditions moulded themselves at IIMC. I have not personally visited IIT Kgp and the sole source from which I draw this inspiration is the fact that the Kgp denizens at this place seem to be so much in sync with the culture at IIMC. There has to be some kind of link. While the rest of us crib about the dilapidated hostels, the moss on the walls, the really unhygienic food and the morose/sad environs inside the campus-I hardly see Kgpians complaining-maybe because they feel at home with this campus. As for the rest of us, we face problems at the lack of doing nothing within the campus and the absolute mediocrity of facilities inside-not that this is all that goes in to make a great campus-but coming from our contexts this is what strikes us the most.

Well, so much for now. Would write the next brief soon.

At fault and regretting

2005-12-07T16:20:00.000+05:30

My faults are numberous-one of them torments me more than others. I tend to push people against the wall. Sometimes become too domineering to push my point that I give absolutely no heed to the virtue called tolerance. Have been told this by numerous people-friends, folks, teachers. Sometimes I tend to think why am I like this? Has that something to do with my psychography-I hope not. Coming to terms with it, facing it and getting over it and realizing that I aint perfect and sometimes talk more foolish than the foolest people I know-is something that has yet not happened. Well, here is a start. I would list my faults and mark me when I repeat them.

1. I am stubborn. Too stubborn.
2. I dominate and in the process spoil everything nice about me.
3. I intend to lose temper faster than the knife melts the butter.
4. When I lose my nerve the first thing I do-is talk foolish.
5. I love as badly as I hate people.

I know this could make anyone hate me. Yeah, makes me hate myself too. This day is dedicated to thrashing this out, then. Want to find out whats wrong...really !!

A verse from memories

2005-12-01T15:26:00.000+05:30

I had read this long back...dont even remember when but it will always be amongst the lines that has affected me the most. Its called MY WAY...

I am not a star
There is no halo over my head
Fate doesn't like the color of my eyes
Struggle and strife are friends of mine

Who am I?

I am survival. I am guts. I am pride. I like odds.
Especially when they are stacked against me.
Because there will come a time when I will stare them in the eye.

And smile the smile of the one who's pulled it off
I am the guy who will have
deep lines on his face someday
And it'll make me good when I laugh
Because that is the day
I will fear no fear
And taste sweat that is sweet.

And look back for the
very first time and say,
I did it my way,
the long hard way.

I took a stand and I dont regret it

2005-12-01T00:34:00.000+05:30

If there is something that would always matter to me-it will be friends. Those whom I can do anything for--for whom I will not even think twice before I hold out my hand. Many a times it has seen me going right into the mouth of trouble-making a fool of myself but I have always believed in having a few but loyal friends and to stick by them, whenever necessary. If someone slings mud on a friend, I would always be there to take his/her side. I believe it is important to take a stand because if you see something wrong happening then ignoring it is a bigger crime than being a part of it. Why all these sermons...
Well, I took a stand yesterday. One of the election nominees happens to be a friend-one who had a family emergency back at home and had to rush back to be of help. When I see the supporters of the other candidate trying to gain political leverage out of his misfortune--No, I can't resist it. So I took a stand and though I have heard a lot of brickbats today, if there is one thing I am certain of--I dont regret it. It has crystallized my beliefs that truth would always face repercussions and if truth is what I wish to live by, I need to be ready to face insinuations too. If what I have learnt from it holds good then I know now who are the ones who would never fail me, who would always stand by me and who would be the ones who would be ready to run away given the first opportunity. In effect, its a great realization-one that has brought immense peace to my mind.

Elections

2005-11-28T20:15:00.000+05:30

Ever seen this movie titled Election-starring Reese Witherspoon. One good movie. If politics, opportunism, "wannabe"ism concerns you, this movie is a must watch. Picking up from a US university scenario with one of the professors (Matt Broderick)as a protagonist, who is audience to a college election. At the fierecely fought ballot, the opportunistic Tracy Matthew (Witherspoon), a perfectly lovely young girl who happens to be a Machiavellian power-hungry wench hiding behind a "milk-and-cookie" image, is angling for the trophy post of college president. She's chin-deep in every activity on campus, as long as she's the leader, and she wants the ultimate office. A great movie and one of the under appraised ones. I loved it because of the simple idea that it projects so vividly, hunger for power. The movie comes to mind as election sets off at IIMC. I have been flooded with manifestos, people cornering me aside to talk me into voting for them. I have seen genuine interest to work being shrouded by cheap popularist tricks. All this for mere posts in student council which would max give people a leap as a point in their CV and nothing more. But with the rising stakes, CV points become the centre of existence of an individual at an intensely competitive place like this. I personally love elections and politics as long as it is fought maturedly and voters are a sane population. As an audience of the soapbox,campaignings and also what people do once they assume the posts-I am reminded more of ELECTION-the movie, more than anything else. I wonder what would happen of people who really wish to make a difference as against the ones who would pursue their own selfish ends like Tracy. The fun part is even Tracy didn't figure out what she would do for herself with the post, all she had was this quirky hunger for power-just any form. Does power really become such a big magnet as one ages-is it something that becomes an enigma everyone chases. Those who cant get it by themselves, align to the ones who get it. It is one of the biggest mysteries of all time. This election is just a peek-a-boo into it.

change of template

2005-11-27T02:42:00.000+05:30

After zillion of months...changed my blog template and that too after 2 hours of searching. No...this girl is not me. I was looking for an image n this looked good to put on the blog page. It seems cool...reviews please...?

City surfing

2005-11-26T23:15:00.000+05:30

Its been sometime since I unraveled the stories of Cal-the city. Infact, I never did have a chance to see so much of the city ever since I came here. Few days back, discovered a long lost friend who happens to be in Cal, the irony being, she lives at least 2.5 hours away from Joka-in the other end of the city-Salt Lake. So though she means the world to me and spending quality time with her is a great idea, I cant do much about it. Today though, she sprang a surprise on me by visiting the campus. With a campus that does not have "much" to offer, we decided to explore Cal. Not that we had a whale of time in hand but the weather was pretty and I was not sleepy (quite an exception) so to Cal it was. As I am living with slim margins these days (spent enormous amount of money for some plane tickets :D), was in no mood to sqaunder 100s on taxis. Took a bus to Taratalla but got down at Sakher Bazaar itself to catch an auto to Tollygunge. This happens to be the closest (misused in this context) metro station to Joka. After a short walk, reached the station. Waited in an endless queue to get two tickets to M.G. Road. The initial plan was to go to this market in the city which is supposed to be hub of exotic, out of print books and I realized that I was tempted to procure some nice ones for my collection. Now this book place happens to be in College street which is parallel to the metro station of M.G. Road, which again is the 11th station on the metro route from Tollygunge so we were sitting and sitting and waiting for what seemed eternity before the robotic female voice in the train said "The next station is M.G. Road. The gates open on the right hand side". Metros are good timepass in Cal (given u have the time to pass). People of all sorts travel in Metro. From a tired looking school girl coming back from her tuitions to the two lovebirds cuddled in a corner of the train...makes for some good observations :D. Then there was a Bong woman screaming non stop at her kids and the kids in turn, fighting for what seemed like a chocolate bar. Well, my observations didnt last long and we were at M.G. Road finally. Now Cal's M.G. Road isnt like M.G. Roads at other places (its even worse than the one at Kanpur..the city perceived to be low tech, non metro..what not !!). Its narrow, dimly lit and is strewn with potholes. There are some gawdy looking shops selling sarees etc. The place had a North Indian feel to it. Dont know why. It feels at home to see/feel/hear nething remotely North Indian in Cal. So we walked to college street but realized that it wasnt really as parallel as we thought (not like the F.C. Road/J.M. road parallelity in Pune) so took an auto to cover the distance. The auto ride scared me enough to drop the thrill of buying books. By the time we reached college street it was already 6ish. The market happened to be more of a place to procure cheap academic books rather than a book shopper's delite. After an hour spent in staring at ICSE, ISC, JEE, CAT books, we found out that the "our kind of books" market was located another 10 minutes walk from that street. I made the effort and was sadly disappointed. Not real good books but yeah I got one of the books that I was looking for. MY LIFE by Bill Clinton. That will keep me busy enough till the next month. Realized then that both of us were really hungry and College Street being the damp, dingy place as it looked like, we decided to finally surrender and take a taxi to Park Street-this still being the only address I know of in Cal which comes close to being the street of a Metro. Decided to eat at ONE STEP UP-a multicuisine and well lit place. I have this obsession with well lit streets/restaurants/rooms that is nowhere close to dying down-just hate low lights. The food was good-baked pasta with tomato sauce. Never had baked pasta and it seems like a quirky dish worth a try in the kitchen. Park Street is a great place for ancient restaurants. For those who have seen Parineeta-Trincas, Moulin Rouge and Flurys are all here and yeah, they are still pretty much untouched by the winds of time-amazing !! After the sumptuous meal, had pastry and coffee at Flurys. This is a small place with neatly dressed waiters carrying steel kettles. The small tables have pink candles-mebbe because Flurys has its logo in pink. The decor is old. A couple of elegant chandeliers lighting up the place and a neat stack of pastries you can drool upon. So after drooling and contemplating we narrowed down our choices to a mud pie and fudge with a black coffee. All set and full then, I bade my friend good night promising to visit Salt Lake someday. When, I dont know...

Tracking friends-II

2005-11-23T19:48:00.000+05:30

More on friends. Though a blog seems too scarce a space to cover all. Here is talking about a small subset:

Sonal: Lunatic is a funny name to have on blogspot but Sonal has always had a real funny side to him. He has taught me to laugh and take things easy once in a while. Not that I always listen but its nice to see someone so much in love with life. I know him since the past 6 years and we have had our tiffs and lows quite often. Yet, the unwavering spirit with which he comes face to face with challenges imparts a lesson or two about resilience. Creativity is second nature to him. Art, poetry, humor-his skills at these need no mention. Right now, he is working his way off to glory before he sets off on an enlightening journey for an MBA.

Lalita: Lilu is in Delhi these days but then she was in Delhi even 2 years back. She is this smart consultant-has almost taught me consulting by rote. Still believe she saved my life on the nite before the summer interview. Lilu that sermon on currency fluctuations was ultimate :D. What I remember the most about our days together is the long walks in the "park" near the office and the hasty coffee and sandwitch at Barista. Gone are the days :( Lilu do come back for an MDP here. IIMC isnt a bad place after all !!!

Fauzia : Fauz is in Delhi too. We all were part of this real nice clique of friends at a "not so nice" office in Delhi. Fauz is great with numbers. Those studious specs do give a perception of a highly mathematical wizard nearby. Add to it her Chartered Acoountant qualifications and voila that is Fauz. She loves chocolates-Bounty-if i aint wrong :D and the simple joys of life. She is a great friend and amongst the nicest women that I have known. Keep smiling Fauz-worries in life are too short to be worth anything much.

Tracking friends-I

2005-11-20T18:50:00.001+05:30

While on a hiatus for the last week, I began to wonder what is going on around me. Since the last three years, I have lost track of life and have never really analysed what is everyone upto...so here is the rundown on two of my friends...the rest will follow in due time

Akshaya: Braveheart is a popular person on blogspot. He also happens to be an old friend. Not really old in a literal sense but the unique love-hate relationship that we share makes him oddly distinct amongst my friends. I know him since the last 6 years technically and for the last 3 years actually. He is passionate and dedicated to his mottos in life and thats what he is doing right now,pursuing his passion. All Puneites, please to catch his wonderful plays (he is a scriptwriter and a great actor); I am at a loss of not being able to do so being in Kolkata. He is a voracious reader and though he could do with some better speed at reading, he goes more for depth unlike ahem-ahem...YOU KNOW WHO...:D

Gauraw: Gauraw is a very different person. From the shy, almost reticent person five years back, he has almost turned inside out. He is very technical unlike me and Akshaya. Lives by facts, does not have much time for the lucid details. Right now, Gauraw is making waves at a multinational company in Noida. For him, the salient facts are, he can go anywhere he wants, he will always be the newsmaker if he wants to be.

Paradigm shift, must say

2005-11-13T09:20:00.000+05:30

After a mad day, there has been little progress made. I know where I will do my summers and what I will do, which is a great improvement from where I was some days back. About the interviews, it was fun talking to loads of people, making them understand what drives me, what motivates me and why I would work if I would work at all. Some great moments...like this one company calling me and telling me that we either want you or no one on campus. It just seemed special and in a way important. At this stage in my career, being important was a feeling to relish. It was finally a choice between a New York Investment bank offer who were ready to offer anything on the table vis-a-vis a Private equity company in Bombay where I would be part of a select few working for the biggest PE of the world. Chose New York partly because I wanted to be risk proof. Did not want the cringing feeling that one gets when you do not get a PPO. Did not want to reject a chance to see Wall Street close by. Though I have to accept Private Equity was a dream come true. Yesterday at least once I did tell myself that you aint that bad and you could be better if you stopped thinking you are bad. Great day and a very hectic one. Now flying to Delhi in the evening. After some professional histrionics, its time to get personal priorities straight.

Aas, Aasha, Astha

2005-11-07T18:48:00.000+05:30

khwaab hoon tumhari aankhon ka..
jab palkon ko jhukate ho tum
tab kahin gahan andhakar se
nikal kar, tumhein choo jaati hoon main
fir bhar deti hoon sapnon mein
rangon ke anek dhaage,
jinhein bun kar tum apni kalpanayein banate ho

main anant hoon, anashwar,
tumhara srujan hone se pehle bhi main wahin thi
tumhare us nanhe se adrishya hriday mein dhadakti hui...
tumhari vishwa ko jaanane ki jigyasa mein liptee hui
tumhare har mantavya ko samajhti hui

main nayi kritiyon se parichay karati thi tumhara
phoolon ki pankhuriyon ki narmee
aur suraj ki taptee garmi ka nazaara
main tumahri soch mein hoon
nishpaksh se santosh mein hoon
main tumhari kalpana ke har naye abhishek mein hoon

mujhko dhoondho, mujhko khojo
main jeevan strot hoon tumhara
mujhpar hi to hai aadharit
har ek parishram tumhara
taap jitna hai hriday mein
utna mujhko chahte ho
aasha hoon main, astha main,
main bharosa hoon tumhara

sad sunday

2005-11-06T17:08:00.000+05:30

The weather has actually perked up these days. Its cool and if it gets a little colder it would be good for me. Things sadly are not perking up. I am still low and not in a great mood. Suddenly, I feel like introspecting and questioning everything in my life. I have started doubting all my achievements, if there were any. Being scared of my own confidence, if it ever existed. All my fears are coming out of the closet and the tensions of my personal life are looming large over me. Stepping out into the open scares me off. Facing people makes me lose my words and stutter. Is it all a personal agony of a wrong choice that is weighing on my shoulders? Or is it because I have lost myself somewhere. Did you know a confident, maybe intelligent me ever.

Life knocked on the backdoor yesterday
But the icy cold me, never let him inside
I thought I was doing okay
Why should I bother about welcoming life
But then life knocked the breath out of my lungs
now I am lifeless and pale
and I am wondering
what really did went wrong....

Shocked

2005-10-27T08:51:00.000+05:30

The first shortlists have started coming and no, I don't figure in any of those. The feeling is well...just like what I felt back on college. When I saw the big companies slip by without as much as looking at my CV. Not a nice time to feel down considering that exams are close by. The feeling apart, I was shocked at first. Its like you give a lollypop to a kid and then u slap and take it away. So you make those big balloons of expectations and then someone comes and punctures them. Ya, thats kinda what I feel. When I landed here, all that I expected from this place was a degree, the stamp of an MBA so that I can go back to my company as a consultant. But soon, opinions started playing with my perceptions.....soon I realized I could be whatever I wanted. People told me not to restrict my horizons, to look beyond consulting so I looked and see...where I landed. Some lessons I guess, as always, would be my takeaways from this:
1. I aint perfect. Not actually or on paper
2. I would always be what I am. What people think about me is immaterial to my personality. I cannot change for pleasing the crowd
3. Life has always been able to keep me happy. Limited and constrained but yes, happy. So, my happiness is in my hand. I can make or break it
Forget shortlists. I should just relax. Hope I just get a decent job.

Not so nice to read

2005-10-25T23:36:00.000+05:30

The worst secret about me-I have worked in consulting. Yeah, I have transported globe onto fancy looking slides with intellectual looking graphs, pivot tables what not. For a fact based person as I am, this isn't a real nice point to highlight. The loose globe of my profession always troubled me but no matter how much I tried, it was difficult to change the way consulting works all over the world. At times like these, I used to tell myself, that the heirlooms of the consulting world, the McKinsey and the BCG's...they ain't like this. For a few months, I have also had the pleasure of working in the most tangible and factual industry you can imagine, Steel. Ever tried reading ATLAS SHRUGGED. Readers would know what a life, working in steel is like. The passion and the experience is unparalleled. As my dear friend Braveheart would agree, steel is the best industry to work in. Maybe a little too dirty for the hands but then what the heck..the satisfaction of getting hands dirty to create the shining metal is absolutely WOW. Oh, I diverged- was talking about consulting. So I had these high opinions abt the MCK and BCG of the world. Slowly, alas, they are shattering too. I seriously want a little logic in life. I shrug the thought of a future career in consulting because I have started hating globe from the depths of my heart. What the hell happened to the structured thought, strong logic blah blah !! But then, where would I fit. What would I do. I can't be an I banker coz it needs a top 100 JEE rank, interest in statistics, very intellectual interests. I have none of those things in me. I also fiddled with the thought of trying marketing but I dont think its my piece of cake. I dont have much to boast in terms of people skills. IT-the computer hates me more than I hate it so can't really try my luck there. I am kinda stuck. I am afraid of telling friends and folks that I am planning to go back to steel. That doesn't seem like such a nice aspiration for an IIT-IIM grad...right....so I need to do something respectable enough, with enough money, and lastly which should make me happy. Happiness where art thou :-(

Mad mad rush

2005-10-22T19:10:00.000+05:30

I should sit and fiddle through my CV right now but since I dont have the heart to find out any more about myself (read:excavate) or to put the same in a fancy form-I have decided to return to my recluse. Why am I so anti job, anti rush? Why am I not able to enjoy this whole mad rush for summer placements in my B-school like many others? Why do I scorn making CVs, filling forms, dreaming of a high powered internship on Wall Street? Is it something within me or am I too afraid to test waters?
The murky business of marketing myself through a CV has driven me to nuts. Sample this:
"Since birth I wanted to be an I-banker"...yeah, sure, I believe you !! "I have a passion for marketing anything and everything on Planet Earth"....hillarious..buffonery at its best. I shud also write then "I just looove consulting. I have consulted my parents, my friends, my teachers, my dog !!!" dammit. Couple it with the silly formatting and the perils of working on Bill Gate's Word. The margins, the borders, the spacing-its the worst timepass ever. I have looked at my CV long and hard and decided to chuck any thoughts of doing anything more with it. Though its a silly reflection of my inherent talents, my absolutely dazzling personality and my multifaceted capabilities-I'd rather not bore a recruiter to death. If he knows me so much, he'd rather come and ask me to become the CEO of his company.
There is a skit that is staged everyday at my school-for mortals it is called a PPT. Some guys in pricey suits come and speak about their organizations. Some are "full attitude"-you come coz we are the best, and there are others who beg you to consider, give a shot to their companies. People dont listen to what they say. They are busy framing intelligent questions to ask in the talk. So that the guy on the other side would be like "WOW !! that kid is real smart"...this question asking (QA) pressure is so much that you can see constipated faces in the lecture hall, busy whacking their brains to come up with an OOTW (out-of-the-world) question. Creates so much peer pressure on the few innocent others, who, faced with a pressure to QA-blurt out questions like "you have told us all nice things abt ur company, please enligten us with some wekanesses too". Earth-shattering is the feeling I have felt so many times in the past few months. I'd rather wish I'd go back to the low-tech, low-funda engineering college, that I hail from. Where, I used to look for a decent suit, 10 minutes before an interview, coz all my t-shirts were torn from one place or the other. Those beautiful, innocent days. I pity the kids who come straight from college to do an MBA..this would be a helluva ride for them. From their innocent havens they come to this mad mad place where everyone has kept their brains safely locked in vaults at home, and have come here with flashy suits and unwieldy words. There are also some permanent cynics, who would scorn what junta does, would have a comment to make on nething and everything, but inside, closeted in their rooms, would do the very same thing. More than the flashy, mindless people, its these cynic hypocrites, who are in a worse position. Am I also turning into one!!! Who knows !!
Enough of silly, mindless diary stuff. Exams start soon. I'd rather study. Not for grades but because I cam here for this, for doing an MBA. The whole purpose is getting lost in this mad rush, it seems.

hibernation over

2005-10-19T12:01:00.000+05:30

Been hibernating for months now. Time I got up and write something. Passively I have written a lot in the last three months. Wrote an article for the college magazine, not that I really like it, but researched article rather than general globe was my first experience and I should say it wasn't that bad. Junta complained of the article being too long, not comprehensive enough, painstakingly verbose etc. etc. Would have published it on my blog, just that I'd rather publish writings that I am personally fond of, which brings me to the poem I wrote yesterday. 'Twas raining cats and dogs and me closeted inside my room with the most terrible cold I have had in years, could only write this....(it doesn't make much sense...I watched Remington Steele yesterday and being a Pierce Brosnan fan, this seemed an akmost obvious thing to write :D)

I have often wondered what are the meanings hidden in your eyes
when you smile and you frown
your eyes turn a shade darker than your face;
as if its something sinister inside you
that has come out and taken the shape of your feelings
I know you are evil
you dont mean no harm but thats when you harm the most
when you flirtingly compliment me on the color of my eyes
you are enjoying the blush creeping across my face;
I like looking at you, walking out of my doorway
I love to enjoy the little victory I achieve
with letting you go, not even calling you back;
but then the sadness in your eyes
at being refused the thing you relish
holds me by my arm and I call you back
"would I see you again tomorrow?"
and then the same twitching of your upper lip
the force to restrain when you want to commit
I hate that sardonic, sarcastic smile
which looks at me, laughs and then turns aside
no promise, no words
commitments from you seem too absurd to expect
But awe, fear, a hearty laughter, a broken you,
I would wait to see passion flare in any form in you
that would make it interesting
I would for once believe you are human

listening to Hariprasad Chaurasia at IIMC

2005-09-14T00:33:00.000+05:30

As the music began to play around me, something like honey was dissolving within me. Closing my eyes, I felt the soothing feeling that only music can provide. Today evening, after a long time, I came to terms with the power of music. The beautiful flute recital, happy, sad, full of pathos or overjoyed spoke a language of its own. For the disturbed state of mind that I currently suffer from, this was like ambrosia. Have no regrets that I missed studying for the exam thats going to happen tomorrow and more than glad that I went to watch Hari Prasad Chaurasia in flesh playing a flute recital just metres away from me. The feeling was so relaxing that I have still not been able to get back to books. The lingering feeling still remains. It was as if, something had trasnported me from Joka to all those places that I pine for, in just...moments. Music has a power, undoubtable, but the way that power was manifested in front of me, today evening, I was amazed. For the first time, I appreciated the luxuries of studying in IIMC. Where else can you go catch Hariprasad Chaurasia in a moment's notice. There have been issues weighing me down since sometime, freakish behavioral tendencies best described as. I have been having problems of my own that have bogged me down and the past provides no respite too. But tonight, the flute recital eased out the pain and replaced it with a calm peaceful satisfaction. My feelings of leaving this place and going back to where I come from have subsided too. Thats a great improvement, for one. Music holds you in a charm and thus makes you realize how much better can life be and the efforts to reach that stage should be continued and which is why Nirvana is so much desired and junta tries to reach it every now and then. Cant do a thorough analysis but this evening has been magical, to say the least, something I would remember for a long time.

unrequited love

2005-08-19T22:08:00.000+05:30

ab der hoti jaa rahi hai, shaam dhalne lag gayi
fir kyun nahi bajti swapn mein bhi tumhari bansuri
kumhla gaye hain pushp, pallav, ashakt hai vasundhara
aur mere haathon mein nahi kuch, sirf smritiyon ke siva

main baat johti radha
ashakt, akeli radha

vishwas hai ki tum abhi jhurmut ke peeche
hanske mujhpe, fir jhalak dikhlaoge
aur fir unhi athkheliyon se tum mujhe bahlaoge
par main kab tak yun akele, bas swapan mein hi jiyoon
prem hai par prarthana se yun vivash kab tak rahoon

main baat johti radha
ashakt, akeli radha

kya itna ashakt aur vivash mera prem hai
ki tum nahi aate, na aati koi kushal kshem hai
ye satya hai radha ka janm, sirf tumse hai juda
par mera kya koi bhi swantatra astitva hai yahan

main baat johti radha
ashakt, akeli radha

in rookhi alkon, bheegi palkon, sookhe hothon se kaho
prastar hui in vednayon, bhavnaoon se kaho
ki ab nahi aaoge tum, aur vyarth hai inka ye tyaag
tum, tumhari bansuri, ho gayi vyom mein vyapt

main baat johti radha
ashakt, akeli radha

radha ki ab kaun sunega, bina krishna ke kaisi radha
jeevan to hai chapal sada hi, wo kab kiske liye rukega
tum apne mahatm aur tyaag mein yun lupt the
ki krishna tumne aap hi radha ko nikrishna kar diya

main baat johti radha
ashakt, akeli radha

main mandiroon mein rakh kar pooji jaoongi sadiyon sada
par jis pal tum mere parshva mein nahi hoge
meri moorat ko kaun poochega
shayad mera swarth hai jo maangati hoon swadhikar
par kya karoon main ishwar nahi tumhari tarah

main baat johti radha
ashakt, akeli radha

its free verse-I am in a bad mood and this just HAPPENED

2005-08-17T19:39:00.000+05:30

A mind which exists without fear-
which is evanescent, and celebrates its mortality
where thoughts are unbounded-
no place for adjectives like acceptable and "politically right".
I lived in such a world, not far back in time
and now, what remains, is only a memory

Its not that I hate conformists
not that I think being true is something everyone can afford
but I am amazed at the decadence that has seeped around me
free will is demonized to conform to hollow ideals
Big words and bigger dreams with no surface under the feet
It's like producing robots in an institutional factory
I wish I could escape to the nothingness of my world
the world where I lived, not far back in time
of which, what now remains, is only a memory

When you are young, you imagine the world to be limitless
that you can fly across oceans through the shortcuts of your mind
that you can reach out across horizons
and never turn to look back at the stretches of time
you fight with life till you have the power to resist
and once you succumb to compromises, there is no looking back
and you become just another pedestrian in the crowd
the thing thats strangely funny is that
we are producing pedestrians in innumerable numbers
and crushing free thought as best as we can
I think I once read in some footnote somewhere
"where there are no differences, there are essentially no opinions"
are we slowly becoming an opinionless world, a world which has stopped questioning itself for the fear of being contradictory
or are we becoming really numb with facts/pains/reality and now just want to live in a consensual fantasy.

volley and ME !!

2005-08-11T01:01:00.000+05:30

Sounds strange right. Never before in the course of writing this blog have I told you about any hint of sporting talent being present within me so where comes this post about VOLLEYBALL of all things !! Yesterday, by some coincidences, I did happen to play a game of volley and unearthed some interesting facts about sports-a domain I am a stranger to. Sports, through the sheer fact of it being the heady combination of brain and brawn, excites oneself in myriad ways. I know by the time I reached the field and picked up the ball for the first time, I realized I was not playing for fun. There was something about the field, the sand on the court, the ball and people standing around the court that somehow made me feel that I need to play and play well. The end of the story is sad coz infact my team did lose the volley match and the other team clinched a landslide victory. But I dont understand, just the mere fact of playing and doing something other than mugging and writing gave me sheer excitement. True, my bones ached and legs felt heavy after the exercise but in the upper storey, I felt much more relaxed and ease with myself. Being new to sports, I fail to understand why sports does that to you...could somebody help me find out maybe.

first attempt at story writing

2005-07-18T12:50:00.000+05:30

THE BALCONY

She just stood on the balcony for the next hour or so. Without realizing that it was the tail end of April and the sun was at its fiercest in the sky. Nothing seemed to make a difference. To her or to the little house that she had built an year back. No, not she..they had built. Though she wondered whether she can use "they" now as the term has ceased to exist. It came into existence a couple of years back when she had first met him on the bus ride to the university. Easygoing and carefree-were the words that seemed to define him for her. She found the simple trust and belief in that rash and passionate man and never looked back to double check.

If only she did...."what would have come out of it"..she asked herself. She would have been on the balcony an year earlier maybe. Both of them were proponents of free relationships. They scorned ties and attachments of any form. Love, for them was a misused word and they preferred to call the certain something between them as companionship rather than love. Looking back, she thought "maybe if she could have distanced herself from the high ideals and stooped to the mortal meanings....".

The decision to "live in" was as sudden as their surprise meeting. He had pulled out the architect designs of his new flat and over coffee, told her about the small rooms, the narrow lobby and the pleasant balcony. She listened intently, craving to be a part of that thing that he felt, still not being able to voice it over the high flung idealism that they both revered. Just then, he came out with it. Not really a "live in" but more of a convenience arrangement. More of a cost sharing arrangement. "Was it all that he wanted", she asked herself. The little house overlooking the small playground across the street was a world in itself. She decorated it with the pamper of a mother dressing a child. She voluntarily abstained from stepping into his territory though, knowing well enough the implications of a slip. It would mean losing a friend as well as something she never really had in effect.

The last one year had been like a roller coaster ride. They had made progresses in their respective careers. She had started writing a regular column for the morning newspaper and he had started working in the best law firm in the city. Under the shell though, things were as staid as always. She sometimes saw a sudden glint in his eyes while she poured coffee in the morning or an amused smile when she brushed her teeth near the common sink. Sometimes he talked about future plans and she waited with bated breath as to the instant when he would mention her but aside from the certain awkward moments, when something occassionally slipped out, and everything would pause. "Those pauses, why didnt I ever pick up those threads to reach out to him"...she asked herself.

She had met someone a few weeks back. An old school friend. Somebody on whom she had a crush for years. He had travelled far and wide for all these years and had finally settled down to work for her newspaper. They had started spending some good time together and she had started noticing that she reached home later than he did, these days. Obviously, there were no questions asked, but why then did she notice a strange effort in those staid eyes to stay calm. She could not correlate the simple logic until the day when the two men she knew, clashed together. He had come to pick her up from the office that day, as a surprise. It was his birthday and she had missed it completely. He had booked the coveted table at the Italian restaurant and the champagne in the ice bucket was waiting for them at home. She had made the mistake of going out for dinner with the school friend that evening. The shock numbed him probably. How he understood it...she still wonders about that. In the morning, everything was as always. He had emptied the champagne in the sink and she could smell it from the water. The flowers and the cake were thrown in the trash can. And that evening, he didnt come back home.

She went looking. At places, she knew, he had always frequented. Friends, acquaintances, she called everyone...only to avail no response. He never went anywhere. He didnt come home. She thought to herself, is this also a right he can avail-to miss without a trace and never care enough to tell her where he is. Is this a part of that unsaid agreement that binds both of them together but never adheres. They are like two ends of a rubberband which never stay together unless something snaps to bring them back.

It was a night when she discovered how far apart they had gone, all the time never realizing how together they could be. This morning she had stood on the balcony waiting for him. His face appearing from the corner of the turn-she was waiting. Morning had turned to noon and it was slowly nearing sunset. She was losing hope and herself in the process. She sank on the hard marble of the balcony and closed her eyes. That moment numbed her to all sense around her. So that when he arrived, slowly, and placed his hand on her shoulders, she jerked away with a shudder. What followed that night was repentance at the time they had spent so near, yet so away from each other. In the cloak of friendship, love had suddenly crossed that invisible balcony and had stepped inside. And in the process, it had given them the light they had always seeked for and the magic that binds everything together-the magic of being one.

IIMC-my first report

2005-07-18T11:59:00.000+05:30

I pledged I would be regular with my blog but life pulls out urgencies from its bags and by the time I switch off my lights, the blog becomes only a part of the "to do list". So, I better pull up my socks and at least finish up the promised write up on IIMC. Yeah, I am at IIMC-One of the 6 (or is it 5) IIMs in India-I am a part of the 250 or so crowd who would be my batchmates for the next two years or so. Its been a safe fortnight and my first impressions have already withered away. As I wrote about Cal, IIMC is not a complete inside-out of the city (as probably IITK was to Kanpur) and most of the campus is a strong reflection of what the city offers in terms of infra, people, facilities...The campus is naturally endowed with lakes, grass and birds. I think apart from the fact that the birds' appetities could actually shower you with droppings from the top (when perched on trees i.e.), the nature is in quite an easy synchronicity with the humans around. Commercialization is so sparse that one could actually take a miss at it altogether. Apart from the faculty houses on the far side, 6-7 small buildings make up the campus. This seems sparse to me, probably because the last campus I saw was a concrete jungle with sparse natural beauty around. The lakes are quite a treat to the eye especially in the mornings and late evenings. At sunrise, when the rising sun is mirrored in the lake and the expanding vistas of the sunrays are refracted from the water body, it somehow gives me the inspiration to get up and start another day of classes and the rest of the rigor. Coming to classes, all said and done, the faculty more than compensates for the missing infra and facilities within the campus. The heavy Bengali accent does pose a big culture divide though. My professor keeps on repeating "shapes in a duck" around 10 times before it strikes me that he is actually talking about "ships in a dock". Huh...all that is given I guess. And I am pretty animated to see how culture still remains preseved in foils and wraps at Cal and probably IIMC. Culture, nostalgia, pride is what binds people together. I saw that back at college too. When the culture started crumbling at college and when traditions were being given up for the sake of a more "acad focussed system", we could see the fallouts in a badly shaped student body. I would give credit to IIMC for being able to preserve that...a culture, a tradition, a thread that runs parallely across a campus that becomes a mini society in itself. Society brings me to talk about people. I would reserve my judgement for now I guess, coz I havent seen many new people. The only acquaintances I have made have been with individuals whom I have known in one way or the other. Would soon write a blog about "IIMC: people" after I am able to catch a few friends. Things that make me sad about the campus is the absence of a pool. I was counting on relishing the charms of a full fledged pool after two years, after coming to IIMC but I guess I would have to postpone the thought to another couple of years. The hostel rooms are pretty ok except the fact that I have been badly spoilt by the luxuries of a beautiful girls hostel at IITK and it would take some adjusting before I finally begin to accept that whatever I lived in two years back was just a matter of me "BEING LUCKY". Food-ah...thats where my cribbing would start. I dont have much issues with the flavour and the taste coz its actually pretty decent but hygienic food is a rarity at this place. Most of the dishes are laced with oil and the plates are never washed well...so many germs inside my tummy everyday !!! Not much otherwise to report...except that my lappy and music system run really well and its a joy to play it late at night and listen to a coldplay or satriani. I might be again stalled for the next two weeks from any creative meanderings for the simple fact that exams are round the corner and God knows how bad I want to pass here. It would at least save my blog readers from some serious grade cribbings.

Cal, IIMC and life et al-part 1

2005-07-05T01:20:00.000+05:30

I think its imperative to mention where the hell have I been all this while, though this blog is not a journal entry that accounts for absences. Over this last one month, I have been at home for a while, where the airtel gprs went kaput and i was left sans internet=sans life. Between meeting friends and relatives and understanding the truth that I was unemployed yet again, it was time to go to Cal. Mom and I travelled on the comfy Rajdhani to reach Cal, a city I can claim to visit when I was a toddler and of which, I cant remember a thing. Humid, sweaty, damp...thats how I would describe Cal. Nothing...I repeat nothing makes you feel that you are in a metro except maybe the Vidyasagar Setu, which is imposing by its simplicity and austerity. Driving a car between the steel veins gives one the first feeling of pleasure since entering the city. Contrary to my expectations, Cal is not thronged by BANGLA and BANGALIS. Infact it is quite adjusting to the BIHARIS and UPites that either work as wage earners in the factories on the outskirts or the MARWARIS which form the backbone of the trading community here. Not only are Luchis and aloo poshto the ambrosia for CALites but even the more familar Punjabi Dhaba appears at a turn or two. Commenting on traffic would be tough because vehicles dont run but crawl on CAL roads. From the "oh so busy" and dangerous Delhi roads, CAL seems to be a perfect exile. Mashi, who was driving the car while picking us up from the station, had quite a tough time hurling abuses at the numerous rickshwas, cycles and the infrequent cars that haunted the road. Mashi's house is quite comfortably situated at Bhawanipur, close to one of the two multiplexes that provide cinematic relief to the denizens of CAL. After the mandatory rest and the butter-dripping paranthas at home, we crawled out to the NEW MARKET and the likes for a wee bit of shopping. CAL is humidity at its worst and beats Bombay hands down. The humidity also tires the bones much faster and walking is not my favorite things any more here. This reminds me of the METRO which is quite well operated though I cant still get over with the Delhi frame of reference, compared to which, CAL pales into oblivion. At the NEW MARKET, the shops were full of all those things girls would give their hearts out for. The embroidered salwar kameez, the broacaded shoes and the string purses..I couldnt help but get enchanted. Mashi and mom (they make perfect company, both hate spending money) had to literally pull me away from a kameez which genuinely besotted me. From the top floor of the house at Bhawanipur, CAL does not seem very differnt from Kanpur. Full of lanes and bylanes, houses that look like an ancient grandfather and no flicker of planning visible in the city...it reminds me strikingly of the city where my heart rests. It is different from Delhi in more ways than one. Maybe I will write another blog on that sometime later. On the day before I had to leave for the hostel, we went for the mandatory KALI BADI visit. Sticky like the rest of the city and dirty to the core, the temple courtyard looks like a picture of years of neglect. There is a special entry bypassing the looong line of devotees, which one can gain access to by a mere payment of 50 bucks. I would have happily paid the sum to save some of my sweat in the process but Mashi prevailed and we crawled through the serpentine line to finally get to see Goddess Kali. Maa gave me a 50 bucks note to keep on Kali's hands. I remember keeping it on her silver moulded fingers, but i think in less than a second, some pujaari had already snatched it away from the goddess, for "God's work" he says. I personally avoid such visits to thronged temples but there's scracely a thing I refuse mom and this had not been the first time. IIMC is yet another chapter but then this would become too big an entry for the blog. Lets reserve it for the next part that would follow after this...maybe I would write it tomorrow night...theres a test tomorrow and I need to go off to bed real soon to have the energy to write the test.

Summer woes

2005-05-31T11:19:00.000+05:30

The heat is killing in Delhi and even more so in Gurgaon. The area is so arid and parched that if you are out unluckily between 9 and 5 then you are bound to get hit by the heat. The heat has made my favorite things, impossible to do-shopping and driving. There is no relief, no matter where you go. The few bushes that HUDA has generously planted in the area provide none but comic relief. There is a single park by the name of LEISURE VALLEY which is heavily thronged by visitors on the weekday evenings and weekends-add to it the "love-to-eat" Delhi culture so mummy, papa, chunnu and munnu come with a huge picnic basket, the remnants of which are left behind as memoirs of their park visit. Huh...summers-when one becomes so cranky and tired and when all you want is to have a nap in the cool environs of an AC. Roadside thirst quenchers are life savers. The lemon soda bottles and the jaljeera might not look very hygienic but are more health friendly and fresh than the coke, pepsi junk people live on. Add to it the fresh sugarcane juice machines operating every 5 km or so. The remedy to beat the heat seems to be a nice swim but Gurgaon seems to lag behind in that department too. There are country clubs all around the city but their audacity is so huge that they charge a hefty fees for a puddle that they dare call a swimming pool. I am stunned by something else though. By the patience of the fruit sellers who sell watermelons and coconuts on the same hot, arid streets that I hate to even see during the day. By the hopeful eyes of the beggar who keeps on begging alms at the traffic signal no matter what time of the day. By the small gypsy children and women who sell pirated version of books, paraphernalia and what not running around cars, cutting prices by 50% every time you show a flicker of interest. This country can never cease to amaze anybody. With the extremities of weathers and geopolitical instabilities, it probably makes people tougher every day, every hour.

Thehra hua shahar

2005-05-25T21:10:00.000+05:30

kal shaam, rooth kar chahal pahal se; aas paas ki abo hawa ke ghulte hue zahar se
socha-ghar ki dehleez par baithein; apne shahar ki mitti se lipat kar saans lein
shahar badla nahi hai bilkul; hai wahi bheed, wahi rickshon ka jamawada
wahi platform par bekhauf kooda daalte log; wahi station par bana, gayon ki basar ka thikaana
lag raha hai kisi ne rok diya ho samay ki suiyon ko; ya fir khud hi, thithak gaya mera shahar
aate hain, jaate hain bashinde kayee; alvida kehta hai hamesha, ye thehra hua shahar

hawa mein wo ajeeb si bechain umas; bhookha sooraj jo ugalta hai dhoop ke gole
sadak pe daudti bason ke number; abhi bhi zubaani yaad hain mujhe
sadak ke aage, us gandi nahar mein, ab bhi nahate hain bacche
aur abhi bhi bijli kayee ghanton nahi aati hai
abhi bhi bazaar mein bikti hain nakli ghadiyaan, itr, joote
aur sankari galiyon se chalkar, sadkon ki doori aadhi ho jaati hai
log kehte hain parivartan hai jeevan ka niyam; fir kyun nahi sunta ye, behra hua shahar
apni samajh ke daayron se oopar nahi dekhta; khush hai khud hi mein itna, thehra hua shahar

roz roz bhaagte daudte hue; gati ke niyam se chalti zindagi mein
thak jaate hain mool adarsh aur dhaarnayein; aksar ruk kar poochti hain roz apne aap se
Is abhishapt pratispardha mein kyun hissa le rahe hain hum
santusht the hum apni us thehri hui duniya mein; aur ab chaah kar bhi thahar nahi paate hum

bhala lagta hai mujhko; rengta hua shahar

jahan na chalne ki jaldi hai na lautne ka intezaar
jahan ummeedein lagaane se pehle sochna nahi padta
aur jahan aas paas ka badlaav, todta nahi aapko
aise shahar mein bachi rehti hai pahchaanein apni
aur aapko khud pe yakeen dilaata hai
thehra hua shahar.

back to quizzing

2005-05-17T14:21:00.000+05:30

Back to quizzing...this is from a song...yeah, and as most of you have guessed it is written by Sahir. Guess the movie.

Niklete thhe kahaan jaane ke lie, pahunche hai kahaan maalum nahin
Ab apne bhaTakte quadmon ko, manzil ka nishaan maalum nahin
Barbaad wafa ka afsaana hum kis se kahen aur kaise kahen
KHaamosh hain lab aur duniya ko, ashkon ki zubaan maalum nahin
Dil shola-e-GHam se KHaak hue ya aag lagi armaanon me
Kya cheez jali kyun seene se, uTHta hai dhuaan maalum nahin
Humne bhi kabhi is gulshan mein ek KHwaab-e-bahaaran dekha thha
Kab phool jhaRe, kab gard uDi, kab aaee khizaan maalum nahin

Since there are so many Sahir fans around now. This one would be easy to guess, I am sure.

My alma mater...my homecoming

2005-05-17T11:33:00.000+05:30

I always scorned the thought of spending another year there. The scorching heat and the chilling cold was always unbearable. I wanted to go out and explore the world as soon as I could. Never wanting to come back to the place which made me the person I am today. It took only a few months out of college to realize that I have left the safe abode of friends and teachers and have finally entered the big bad world outside. No sooner had this recognition hit me, that I wanted to run back, to go back to the place which gave me so much. This time, I went back to visit college because I missed it. I missed the ambience, the carefree attitude, the penniless but happy faces and the serenity which is irreplacable for me. I won't say that I miss the people the most, but yeah the way this place transforms pedestrians into brilliance in flesh, I miss that. This weekend, when the sun was at its shining best and the summers were at the peak torture point, I had the good fortune to visit school once again. Walking inside the gates, I realized the sudden spring in my step, though it was unbearably hot, and there were no rickshaws in sight. It welcomed me with the same open arms that it did 6 years back when I was an awkward girl looking for a foothold in the academic echelons. When I passed out, with the cap and the coat, two years back, I was a different person, somebody who had been chiselled and shaped to become a complete individual.
Though entering those gates is more difficult now. The guard on the gate asks for my id card. And yes, I am no more a student now so I give him some stuff about me being an alumni, wanting to visit, blah blah. He is not very convinced; maybe I have changed over time. From the bespectacled, reed thin and horribly dressed girl, I have graduated to a more refined version. Time, you see, changes everyone. This is vacations time in college, so there wasn't even a soul on the street to the academic area. Made a pit stop at the computer centre. The walls are still the same. The badly shot photograph of a lion still adorns the main entrance. The gates to the CC are still the same, squeaky, push pull. But most of the labs have closed. As the new building has come up, this one has been downsized. So there is change, somewhere, to some extent. The new CC canteen is miles ahead of the old canteen, with the Nescafe hoardings and neat little benches.
The lib reminds me of many more things rather than the journals or the reserved section. I was a regular at the lib, though the hours spent at the lib never reflected well on my grades. Change is evident there too. There are now notices on the gate that request students to switch off their mobiles before entering. But yes, the lib incharge still remembers me. It just feels like home inside. The same stale smell of books and the nerds lurking in the corners of the reserved section.
Meeting my teachers and visiting the same old lab which tolerated my experiments with science a couple of years back, brought memories alive all over again. The lab is still the same, though new desktops have replaced the old ones. My course notebook from the last semester still adorns my professor's room-it somehow reminds me, I was amongst his best students. Homecoming to my alma mater also boosts my belief in myself and my confidence in the intellect that it has passed on to me. A brief lunch at the campus restaurant does not seem sullen and grime as it used to be, two years back. Even the oily paneer and watery curd seems gourmet cuisines. True, the place sure does something to you. My friend and I confer that even after two years the prices of most of the dishes have stayed the same. The only difference is that now I leave a generous tip. A stark contrast to those student years when a tip was entirely out of question.
Walking out, I felt there was so much more to see and I want to stop by and touch everything, visit every place. Just that, time runs faster than my memory does. Going out of those hallowed gates, I wish I would come back. Back to home and back to my alma mater.

Inhuman and why

2005-05-16T15:23:00.000+05:30

This blog is not in order to descry the rape incident that took place last week in Delhi-now populary knows as the Dhaula Kuan rape incident-I think enough has already been written about it. Also, because I dont feel that it is all white or all black as it seems, my views might not resonate with the million others that have rattled the country is this past one week or so. Rapes are a blot on humanity's face. Sex by force is one of the worst crimes that can be committed against a women and a physical assault as brutal as a rape not only disfigures a women's physical and mental balance but it also places a big question mark on the state of a country's society, its entire social structure. The dhaula kuan incident in Delhi is not shocking as shocks are experienced if something out of the ordinary happens, but crimes against women have become a norm in Delhi and so "its all in a day's life". My thoughts on getting to know about the incident was, "how unsafe can life be, in public, for a solitary woman". I felt anguish and pain at not being able to do anything about it and I also felt a huge relief as I was not the one who was hurt. I know its selfish but when you are a lone girl living in a city like Delhi, such spasms of relief are not uncommon.
My surprise and remorse at the incident roots from two things: the incident itself and the reasons which led to it taking place. The lucid details of the rape, well molested and fleshed out by desi tabloids like TOI and HT are all over the country so I wont get into that but the reasons behind that are something that deserves a word or two. The girl in question walking out at 2 am near a dhaba at Dhaula Kuan is highly suspect. Which well meaning and sensible girl would even think of taking a walk at 2 am in the night at a place like Dhaula Kuan. Just why would she do that-for a meagre tea break !!! When societies go out of hand and when cultures start denigrating, one has to rise to the occassion to brace himself/herself against evil. More and more women in Delhi are becoming vigilant and are responding to the challenge that society is setting against them. In times like these, coming across incidents like the Dhaula Kuan one, makes me wonder, what was in the mind of that girl when she was walking at 2 am near Dhaula Kuan. Probably she also failed on her part to protect herself. If its a jungle out there, you should try to civillize it but also protect yourself, foremost.
The Indian rape story goes far beyond the criminal grime or the poor police situation prevalent in the country. It is more to do with the socio-cultural and the mental framework of the people that reside in this country. More with the kind of flux this nation finds itself in. When there is this so called modernity sweeping across metros and small towns alike but our conventional hypocrisy fails to budge aside. We shun the thought of our girls wearing low rise jeans and tank tops but also watch pornographic tapes in closed rooms at night. Such is the duality of thought, the split character of a nation like India. How is this affecting our social fabric? Vehemently. When girls complain about rampant eve teasing, why dont they also look back and see how they behaved in the first place. Its not one person's fault. Its a mutual responsibility. Rape is inhuman and animalistic but your security is in your very own hands.
The media is another factor which is convoluting the already complex situation in the country. TOI and HT-which I guess are the biggest paper media brands in India are leaving no stone unturned in catering to the subjugated and ignorant sexual mindset of today's youth. Has media forgotten its responsibility towards the society, of building a culture, of reporting the truth.
All this makes me wonder, what lies in the future and what is the future of my country and the youth, if there is any future at all...

addendum

2005-05-11T16:01:00.000+05:30

As if the "wedding season" in bold was not enough !! I called a "was-out-of-touch-for-long" friend today and bingo, the big news he gives me is that he is getting married. Surprise, surprise !!!

weddings and engagements

2005-05-10T17:14:00.000+05:30

This seems to be the ultimate wedding season of all times. Everyone is seemilgy getting married. Not a week passes by when I don't hear news of people getting engaged and marrying. Not that I resent it, but isn't it too early ? It's been only two years since we left college-kids aged 21-22-and the next I hear is X is getting married in October and Y is getting engaged in August. As a friend bluntly puts, maybe I don't want to get over my nostalgia and my attachment with the past. I know of X and Y as easygoing, independent chaps. People I knew so well and had so much fun with, in college. The thought of these boys growing up and becoming men who are matured enough to get married in two years-is a little scary. Girlfriends with whom I shared a large part of my college life with; girls who were as kiddish as I was; who never mentioned marriage in any as-near-as-can-be future -are getting married and are apparently overjoyed and relieved with the event. Is everything changing and am I also supposed to grow up and leave old leaves behind and move on to the new saplings. Huh!! Can't say whether I can actually do that. I went to this wedding sometime back and all I wanted then was to shake my friends' hand and twist it the way we used to do back in college, to slap her on her back and run away; but then I am apparently supposed to have grown up and matured and to have overcome my childish urges. Thinking of a similar future for myself, scares me equally, if not more. Thinking of settling down and stopping this scot-free existence is scary at this age. Not that this subject is never brought up, but I shy away whenever it comes up. I think I will avoid it till it dawns on me that its time to move on.

Time-the omniscient healer

2005-05-03T20:17:00.000+05:30

Tragedies don't always pass away unknowingly. Maybe the time for which they last, might just be a moment; but the shock of the event leaves you in a time warp that you never get out of. I have struggled with tragedies and due to the strong nostalgia that I carry with me, it becomes even more difficult to forgive or forget. Its been four months since I experienced the shock and pain of death. I was unprepared and quite naive to handle it. I was supposed to act matured but I guess my limited understanding of life failed me then.
I remember getting the fatal phone call, feeling the churning in my belly and just wishing all was well. Making the journey back home was the most painful travel that I have ever went through and then the dawning of the reality that everything was finished long before I arrived. Huh, so are the mysteries of life and the vaccuum that engulfs you when the full circle is done. It was odd-when everybody expected you to act all grown up and support your family-when you are struggling with your own grief; struggling to suppress the pain which will never go away.
I think normalcy resumed after a while; I could see routines falling into place. But, the wound remained and the time somebody touched it; I could see fresh blood on the gash.
Four months. It doesn't even seem like so much time has passed away since it happened. My personal struggle ranged from calming people around me to smothering the child inside me-who was suffering every minute-suffering the loss of a vital connection to childhood.
People tell me that time heals. Through time and over periods, I would learn to forget what was once, a living reality. Maybe they are right, time might heal the pain, but the emptiness, the vaccum, the vacant bench-that will never go away.

nayi kavita

2005-04-27T03:28:00.000+05:30

kahin door mann bhatak raha hai
kehne ko to des naya hai
fir kyun tumko dhoondh raha hai
birhi mann fir bhatak raha hai

bandhan, rishte, naate chode
tumko choda tha jab maine
haath chuda kar bhaagi thi main
ban vihaag us door gagan mein
ahankaar yun chalak raha tha
meri vaani, mere mann mein

par ab kyun, sab lage adhoora
do nainon ke pinjare mein hi
acchi lagti hai ye maina
ye jeevan ab nahi mera hai
birhi mann fir bhatak raha hai

yahan nahi hai apna koi
bunein na aankhein sapna koi
chitthi mein main kya likh doon ki
kam ho jaaye apni doori
shaam ghaneri, baahein khole
mere aise asmanjas pe
dheere dheere kilak rahee hai

ye aankhein fir bilakh rahi hain
kehne ko to main swatantra hoon
par mann bandhan maang raha hai
kahin door mann bhatak raha hai

My new laptop !!

2005-04-23T21:33:00.000+05:30

Being a non-techie (don't misunderstand, by qualification, I am an engineer) and a non-comp person at that, getting a laptop is a big event for me. I wanted to stick to the good old desktop but common sense (of my techie friends) pervailed over my cautious thought. Everyone told me that for a price different of 6-7K, I would be getting a laptop which would not only be lighter than a desktop but would serve the same purpose. Add woofer speakers and you have a music system. I listened, deliberated and then finally succumbed to majority. My new laptop is a Dell Inspiron (I don't know what that means !!) 600m (no idea abt these wierd numbers too). It is light and sleek and looks good. Though I have more ideas about aesthetics rather than functionality so I might be wrong on all counts. I just needed a comp like device which could play movies, music and help me with general computing functions. This system seems to fit my requirements but I thought and thought and thought before finally making the call. The laptop is on its way now (Dell has shipped it) and would be here in 2-3 days. I wonder, when I take it to the MBA school (which seems to be the big purpose right now), would people label me as a techie. I also wonder when people ask me about the configuration, I would be dumbfounded. So are the dilemmas of a non-techie and forced to be techie girl. I titled this blog as "My new laptop !!' when I began scribbling but as I am approaching the end, I have a strong inclination to change it to "me and my laptop-would we last?". Poor , confused me !!!

nayi nazm

2005-04-22T00:29:00.000+05:30

Ye bhi kaafi puraani nazm to nahi hai. Magar haan, bilkul nayi bhi nahi kahenge ise. Ise likhne wala bhi koi Urdu fankaar nahi, Hindi ke ek mukhya kavi hain. Is nazm ki aakhiri line, "hamaare shahar mein '_'-saa koi mast na thaa" mein unka naam bhi chupa hai. Maine ise net par hi padha tha aur padh kar kaafi achraj hua tha ki hindi aur urdu kitne bandhe hue hain ek doosre se. Ek ko doosre se jod do to kavita aur sundar ban jaati hai. Sirf ek bhasha par atal raho to samajhne wale ko samajh nahi aata. Is nazm mein bhi, saral hindi aur saral urdu ko mila kar, bahut acchi ghazal likhi hai. The second last lines are my favorite. This is a thought that has not been presented very well in poetry but has lot of gravity to it. Lots of meanings.

door se door talak ek bhi darakht na tha
tumhaare ghar ka safar is qadar to sakht na tha

itane masaroof the ham jaane ki taiyaari mein
khade them tum aur tumhein dekhane ka vaqt na tha

main jis ki khoj mein khud kho gayaa tha mele mein
kahin vo mera hi ehasaas to kambakht na tha

jo zulm sah ke bhi chup rah gaya na khaul utha
vo aur kuch ho magar admi ka rakt na tha

unhin faqiron ne itihaas banaaya hai yahan
jin pe itihaas ko likhane ke liye vaqt na thaa

sharaab kah ke piyaa us ne zahar jivan bhar
hamaare shahar mein '_'-saa koi mast na thaa

prem pagi kavita

2005-04-19T03:44:00.000+05:30

abki baar ek choti si kavita hai. Mere kaafi pasandeeda lekhak hain, jinki rachna hai ye....i am sure ye google search se bhi milna mushkil hai. isliye is baar shayad sincerely mujhe koi dhoondh kar batayega ki kiski rachna hai ye. ye ek sangrah ki kavita hai. jaisa samajh aa hi jaayega, yah radha krishna ke baare mein hai. Ab aap sochiye ye kiski kavita hai....

ghaat se lautate hue, teesare prahar ki alsaayi bela mein
maine aksar tumhein kadamb ke neeche, chupchap dhyanmagn khade paaya
maine koi agyaat vandevta samajh, kitni baar tumhein pranaam kar sar jhukaya
par tum khade rahe..adig, nirlipt, veetraag, nishchal

tumne kabhi use sweekara hi nahi

din par din beetate gaye aur maine tumhein pranaam karna tak chod diya
par mujhe kya maloom tha wah sweekriti hee atoot bandhan ban meri pranam baddh anjuliyon mein, kalaiyon mein is tarah lipat jaayegi ki kabhi khul hi nahee paayegi
mujhe kya maloom tha tum keval nishchal khade nahi the
tumhein mere pranam ki mudra aur mere haathon ki gati is tarah bhaa gayi thi ki
tum mere ek ek ang ki ek ek gati ko poori tarah baandhana chahte the

is sampoorna ke lobhi tum, bhala is pranam ko kyun sweekarate ?
mujh pagli ko dekho, main samajhti rahi ki tum kitne veetraag ho, kitne nirlipt

Travelogue-II

2005-04-17T20:36:00.000+05:30

This first one week has been immersed in office work. With the high priority projects lined up for my stay I never imagined that I will have a fun weekend. The American food is grassy and raw and the Indian food is "bare minimum" Indian- Bland and half cooked. I am pining for home food and being a vegetarian and a non egg one at that has its failings, I completely understand. Friday was chaos in its full form. I got up at 7.30, just the time Vipul called me up to say thathe is ready and waiting for me in the lounge. I did a lucy show and somehow scraped in almost in time. On the same Friday, we had a 4 hours presentation starting right at 8 in the morning. 'Twas highly technical and not much of it made sense of it anyway. I bunked the other 2 hours session and I was glued to the laptop for the rest of the day as a deliverable had to go the same day. I knew we had to leave for Austin that very same evening but the work part was tough to manage and diffcult to accomodate. We left the office late in the evening and then picked a Mazda from the car rental. The drive to Austin was not much fun because 4 hours of continous driving is tough to enjoy after some time. So I tried to socialize with Vipul and he is quite easy going, easy to strike a conversation with. I played word loop with him on the way (which was like heights of boredom, I know he hated me for playing that infants' game with him).

Austin is lots of greenery and hills. The route from Dallas to Austin is pretty as there is good natural scenery around. But since it is US, you cant slide down the car window, otherwise the noise of the roaring wind would tear your ears apart. I am staying with my friend in Austin who has surprisingly lost a lot of weight and has become razor thin. This makes me so ashamed of myself, being the elephant that I have become, these days. She has also become a good cook and the rajmah chawal that she made on the evening I arrived, was yummy. Infact even the aloo paranthas she made on Sunday...were much better than the half cooked stuff that I can manage.

Friday, I guess, we chatted all night, doing a lot of catching up on each other. On Saturday, since I did want to see places around, we went to this theme ride park in Austin. I mean the "Essel World" kind of place. Lots of rides...good fun. My vertigo struck yet again and so I had my eyes firmly closed during the roller coaster or frisbee rides. End of day..I was dying to go off to sleep. Have never done a night out and a theme ride thing together, ever before this. Sunday, we were lazing around and doing more of chatting. I left in the evening and then Vipul and I had a good dinner at an Italian joint.

And now, today is Monday yet again. Vipul has already left for office and I am struggling with this post so that I could go too. There are meetings every second hour I guess, Tough day or Monday blues. Dont know what I should call this.

safar mein dhoop-kiski nazm hai ye

2005-04-13T19:36:00.000+05:30

My friend quizzed me on this one the day before, and since I am absolutely lazing around these days, I decided to exercise my brain a bit.

I found the answer after some groundwork. No googling please and no checking the back of record labels. Study the style and tell me if you can find the lyricist.

Safar mein dhoop to hogi jo chal sako to chalo
Sabhi hain bheed mein tum bhi nikal sako to chalo
Yehan kisi ko koi rasta nahin deta
Mujhe gira ke agar tum sambhal sako to chalo
Har ek safar ko hai mehfooz rasto ki talash
Hifazaton ki yeh aadat badal sako to chalo
Yehi hai zindagi kuch khwab chand umeedein
Inhi khilono se tum bhi behal sako to chalo
Kisi ke waaste raahen kahan badlti hain
Tum apne aapko hi badal sako to chalo

Travelogue-1

2005-04-13T03:28:00.000+05:30

The best part of my US trip-as of now-was the flight over the Atlantic. The sight of the shimmering blue ocean as the sunlight kissed the folds in the waves; the feel of only glass between you and an unmeasurable expand of water; the delight of watching the ocean extend for miles and miles. I wished I never reach New York- that the flight from Heathrow to JFK just lasts forever, but sadly, I did land in NY. Instead of basking in the fresh air and bright sun down on the seaside, I was playing scrabble in the airport lounge...for ummm...around 6 hours !! The flight was good, except for the fact that I had a tussle going on in my upper storey about the job-mba fiasco. They had some good movies onboard-Sideways, Vera Drake-both are apparently nice and Meet the fockers which is banal yet fun anyways.
London looks a lot like a huge staircase from top. You have these organized rows of houses, painted red and black on top, all so neat, so well done. I think uniformity is the only theme that runs across London for me, because most of it, is so organized. That's one city I would love to visit. I have never seen live king, queen, prince et al and a royal palace and London might be the place which offers all of this.
I landed in New York on "some day" and "some time"-I am tired of rationalizing this whole time difference thing-and then set down to scan people around me. I wanted to buy a diet coke/pepsi/ice tea but then dumped the whole proposition of risking taking out my money in a foreign place (my Mom's best advice and it has come in handy most of the time). Most of the time was spent in scanning the people around me. The Indian girl right across me with a drum for a waist, was busy talking on the phone. Infact for all three hours, I witnessed her continued romance with her phone. She looked no better than a jerk, with a jeans that was so low, that it seemed it would slip down any minute and a top which could barely hide her obesity. I fail to understand..why fat girls love wearing clothes that flaunt their overweight figure??
Then, there was the young Indian girl behind the fat girl. She seemed lost and looked furtively towards the ticket check-in desk, wondering when they would announce boarding. There was a man glued to the TV screen, too busy devouring a McDonald food hamper. In short, just all kind of people around me. Fun, it was, to compare, contrast and collate my impressions at the airport.
The flight was brief and I spent my time stuck to a diet pepsi can, not doing much socializing around. My first view of Dallas-its very green-greener than Europe when I took the top view in. But then, that's what it is. Lots of skyscrapers, malls, wide roads, the lilting Texan accent and the comparatively high proportion of blacks among the hoi-polloi-yeah that's what Dallas is. I was confused about the baggage collection, infact, I sat on the terminal for 5 minutes wondering which side should the baggage collection point would be and then I saw the glass divider, across which ran the baggage belt. The taxi taking formality happened quite well and I reached the hotel in no time. It's nice-the hotel-the beds are cosy and springy and the internet connection is pretty fast. The bath supplies are pretty neat and the view from the window is pretty good too.
The food problem is still there. I still find myself helpless when it comes to pick food. I cant pick up food quite well and I just live on "grass". But let's see, with Vipul coming in tomorrow, I think I should get a li'l adventurous about food.
Would update later... :-)

quizz

2005-04-08T17:34:00.000+05:30

Came across this yesterday but yet to find out the source of these lines. Could anyone make a guess:

Zindagi Sirf Mohabbat Nahin Kuch Aur Bhi Hai
Zulf-o-Rukhsaar ki Jannat Nahi Kuch Aur Bhi Hai
Bhookh Aur Pyaas ki Maari Hui Is Duniya Mein
Ishq Hi Ek Haqeeqat Nahin Kuch Aur Bhi Hai

I know its an excerpt from a movie and its a poetry, not a song.
Take a guess.

A song

2005-04-07T18:28:00.000+05:30

Ever been in a situation where you don't find words to express what you feel...when there is pain but you are not able to find the right expression for it...when you have been hurt but don't want to hurt back...still the pain lingers on...this song works then...it does not have melancholy immersed in it but there is a lingering pain which you would identify with as the song progresses...the movie is guide and the singer is RAFI

din Dhal jaaye haay, raat naa jaaye
tuu to na aae terii, yaad sataaye
din Dhal jaaye

pyaar me.n jinake, sab jag chho.Daa, aur hue badanaam
unake hii haatho.n, haal huaa ye, baiThe hai.n dil ko thaam
apane kabhii the, ab hai.n paraaye

din Dhal jaaye haay ...

aisii hii rim-jhim, aisii fuvAre.n, aisii hii thii barasaat
khud se judaa aur, jag se paraaye, ham dono.n the saath
phir se vo saavan, ab kyuu.N na aaye

din Dhal jaaye haay ...

dil ke mere tum, paas ho kitanii
phir bhii ho kitanii duur
tum mujh se mai.n, dil se pareshaa.N, dono.n hai.n majabuur
aise me.n kisako, kaun manaaye

din Dhal jaaye haaye ...

The last bold lines are what create the maximum impact...the tragedy and the romance both entwined so perfectly. Its so simple and straight, yet seems so brilliantly written by Shailendra. In addition to that, the picturisation...Dev Anand drunk donwstairs and Waheeda upstairs...both living with their own regrets, complaints...listen to it if you haven't already.

My Brother Nikhil - a nice watch

2005-04-05T00:32:00.000+05:30

It was nice to go to the theatre to catch a movie after a long time. Since the past few weeks (or maybe months) have largely been devoted to the sardonic movie watching experience on the CD player/laptop. I like debut movies since you always have an element of surprise in them. Like you watch "EK DOOJE KE LIYE" and though the movie is full of flaws, the way Rati Agnihotri performs in her role, takes you by surprise...its her debut movie !! On similar lines, Onir's maiden work also surprises you. Its not grand, not absolutely heartfelt but is made honestly and makes a sincere attempt to stay away from the trite. Sanjay Suri (the model turned actor: credentials include JHANKAR BEATS) puts in a good performance. For a change, he gets to play shades much more varied than the "oh so charming, oh so nice" roles that he generally gets to play. Nikhil is a character, most people would identify with. The pampered boy, the ambitious man; in love with his family but wanting an identity of his own. Sanjay has brought out the multihued dimensions of Nikhil beautifully and I believe the most important part has been the transition (from the state swimming champion to the AIDS victim) phase. It doesn't make you sympathetic but you cringe with fear; the fear of being so close to death. Juhi has this mass sweetness aura and the movie plays well upon that. Juhi comes out well as the loving but strong sister of Nikhil. Victor Banerjee and Lilette Dubey fit their roles.
The lurking theme of the story also revolves around homosexuality, the misrepresented (like the way it was in PAGE 3 or the likes) and under-represented reality that the society hates to come face to face with. The chemistry between Nikhil and Nigel is enigmatic. No, there is no touching, no "hot" scenes or masala material but the relationship is majorly picturized in the extent to which Nigel is able to feel Nikhil's pain though I personally believe the role of Nigel could have been better enacted by someone other than Purab. The best part and I applaud the movie for this is, instead of discussing why Nikhil catches the HIV virus, the major discussion is around, what happens to him after he tests positive. Maybe, thats where PHIR MILENGE failed. There was too much attention at the justification of why Shilpa Shetty tests positive rather than the whole problem of AIDS as such.
The movie is picturised beautifully. Worth watching are the scenes shot in semi darkness, transparent blue around, and the locales of Goa beaches. Best scenes: the one where Viktor Banerjee is playing with his grandson and Lilette Dubey asks him, whether he not misses Nikhil. Or the one where Nikhil tries to seek solace in Juhi after his doctor informs him about him testing positive.
A good effort. I have a personal inclination for such movies and My Brother Nikhil does a better job than most of the flicks in this genre.

2005-03-23T11:35:00.000+05:30

The TAJ- as we saw it

The temperature was close to 40 and we were walking on hot marble. Torture, it might seem to be-but then, we were walking on the marble platform on which one of the seven wonders of the world rests-TAJ.
I have been to the TAJ when I was a kid; around 12 years back and this trip was accidentally planned because someone from the US office was visiting India and wanted me to accompany her to what most foreigners come to India to see-TAJ. I am not very much into sighseeing but TAJ has its own temptations that you cannot ignore. Maybe it comes from the fact that TAJ is the ultimate in grandness and makes one appear so diminutive that you begin to understand what humbleness is. Or the fact, that even if you have a heart of stone, it requires real guts to be able to ignore TAJ's power of love. The simple fact that TAJ is erected on the foundations of love, makes it so noble and complete. One could laugh away the story that a king built TAJ for the love of his wife but the truth is-TAJ reflects that love, even if you dont trust the story.

AGRA is still the same. Polluted, mismanaged, living on the leftovers that tourists coming to see TAJ leave behind, but pass AGRA, and you would see ruins scattered around the city; people basking in the aroma of the Mughal empire that is no more; a city that lives enveloped in the cocoon of time. TAJ arches over the city as the common theme that justifies the overwhelming nostalgia. The YAMUNA is no more; it dies ages back I guess. The Mathura refinery is threatening to break the borders and enter Agra; its smokes have already petrfied the TAJ; it has paled in complexion. But, still, AGRA, a li'l like LUCKNOW, has its own identity. Something, one might see missing in places like Bombay and Kanpur which are thronged with new structures and the city has come out of its past to accept the present. AGRA in contrast, lives and flourishes in its ancient past.

TAJ-I dont know how many visitors visit it every day but there are people, people and even more people in and around the TAJ courtyard. Some reason why Mayawati wanted the TAJ corridor to happen !!! The foreigners are numerous; clicking pictures, marvelling at the beautiful carvings of the masterpiece and wishing that their forefathers would have erected something similar back in their homelands. There is a big beehive of vendors, and the hive breaks open the time they see white skin around. They would charge 3 times the actual price for a set of pedestrian TAJ postcards and for trinkets that otherwise sell for pennies on the road. The police is inefficient and is more than happy to let TAJ manage its security by itself. There are signs not to click snaps inside the tomb or near the lake but nobody listens and nobody objects.

I wish TAJ improves, at least if there are so many people voting for it to get included in the seven wonders; I hope they also come forward to do something about the way it is managed. As I sign off, here's a snap of the massoleum. Adieu, TAJ !!

Solitude-meanings and implications

2005-03-17T17:24:00.000+05:30

I discussed this yesterday and since this whole topic is so thought provoking, I thought of blogging it. Solitude, is it a matter of choice or are people actually born with it. My best friend is a real loner. Given a choice, he will never talk to a human being. He infact hates most of the people on the face of the earth. On the other hand, I know of people who just can't visualize life without a "gang"or "group". Is it a weakness to be too social ? Do you actually become dependent on other people for fun and happiness? A context to this, is something that I thought of yesterday but couldn't put in perspective. If being social and extrovert is a weakness then love should be an even higher form of weakness. Because, in the depths of love, your happiness and pains become dependent on a sole entity. Isn't that weakness too? I agree, love makes you dependent but love also enriches your soul, teaches you to rise over and above individual fancies and look at a larger goal. Similary, when you have friends around you, you also learn to live with the shortcomings in personalities and look over and above that, at the larger picture, the positives in a person. Not that being a loner is a bad idea but solitude promotes selfishness. When you are the master of your life and there is no involvement of any other factor in your life matrix, then you are bound to swing things your way. You apparently become selfish.
The other side of the story is solitude also promotes creativity. Big writers, achievers and successful men have come so far owing primarily to the fact that they looked far ahead of the average life. In a group, more or less, you become one amongst the herd, an average person but uniqueness and therefore greatness, comes only through a silent, solitary and lone effort. These are my thoughts, what does everyone else say about this?

Would friends stay close with the passage of time ?

2005-03-14T14:15:00.000+05:30

I was on the phone with my best buddy around an hour back. We were trying to chalk out plans of a get together in Lucknow this weekend. The plan was-we would travel all the way from Delhi to Lucknow-meet up, talk, roam and then leave for delhi on the next night. I want to meet everyone. After all its been only one and a half years since I left college, and friends and fun still accounts for a substantial part of the happiness quotient. Though, this trip is tough to manage because of work back in the office and due to the preparations that I have to do for my forthcoming US trip. Icing on the cake is the fact that I have to anyways travel home the weekend after that and too much travel is bad for a non-adaptable me. But, still I wanna meet everyone and feel safe in the haven called nostalgia.

When I disconnected the line, a colleague looked up and asked me where was I planning to go. I told him, with enough excitement in my voice that me and my friends are meeting up this weekend and possibly this would be lots of fun. He looked puzzled as to why would I waste so much time even thinking of the possibility of going so far just to meet up with few "friends". I could well understand that college is a blurred stroke of memory for him and "friends" have gone far apart over time. He told me that since I am just a kid, recently out of college, it would take some time before I develop the surprise element on thoughts of meeting up friends. He is partially true. I have seen people drifting apart, failing to keep in touch and simply getting too caught up in their personal life. There are always strings which pull you back. Your parents or bf or gf would always want you with them, when you move out of college as you are now supposed to grow up and understand your commitments much more. But what about friends and the certain carefreeness which comes only with the nights spend talking with them. I sometimes wonder would my friends also drift apart with the passage of time ?

Would there come a day when I would just have my cosy family circle but no one on the outskirts, harking back to the old times, those lovely days ? I am too young to visualize that and I fear the day it would actually happen. Till the time, I wanna be with friends and just live my life the way I want to. If tomorrow I forget my words and forget friends, there should be some way to set a reminder which would just touch my shoulder and tell me that friends are important in life.

If I talk about friendships that last for a lifetime then I would think of her. She has been with me no matter what has happened for the last 14 years. She has been my friend, guide, counsellor and confidant at every step. Now, when I am busy in my professional life and cant give enough time to my family, she still makes it a point to visit my mom every evening and talk to her so that she doesn't miss me. We have seen enough happening with each other. Heartbreaks, maturity, new life and deaths...so much and yet we grow fonder of each other everyday. I wonder if there would be a day when she would lose meaning for me. I hope not. I just wish that never happens. And I should tell my colleague, that friends don't drift apart universally with time. It's you own decision to shut off your eyes, so that you don't acknowledge them.

Trying to make sense of BPO

2005-02-24T14:50:00.000+05:30

I was always under the impression that services industry is the best thing to have happened to India. It was giving jobs to the unemployed, 'twas giving India a global identity and was attracting the rare FDI trickle into the country. But ever since I have come to Gurgaon, not one day passes when I come to realize that all this is a big farce. The services industry is not giving anything back to India. It is only a money game at the end of it and the day India loses this advantage to a Manila or a Beijing, that would be the end of the game. I see call centre crowd outside the huge glass towers. Girls smoking cigarettes because the work pressure is too much to handle. I see a frustrated breed of people, increasing in number every day, who know that the job is worth nothing and it is repetitive and redundant but still, they are forced to do it.

Because the SERVICE culture has arrived in India and is here to stay.

I see people logging in long hours at work because some client sitting in the US or UK wants cheap work done at the click of a finger. I also see young men and women dropping out from college to join a call centre, thus giving up the faint chance of making a better career in the future. In India, a whole bunch of young people, are logging in wierd hours at their office; trying to work in the US shifts in India; which is affecting them personally as well as professionally. Is this the legacy that we, the young turks of the enterprise called India, would want to leave behind. I can hardly see anyone passionate about building, making, creating or manufacturing these days. Everyone wants to sit on the BPO boom and go wroooooooom. No one is concerned, neither the leaders, nor the government and the Indian people have long acclimatized themselves to live with what they have got; even a second rate life would do.

A visit to those gigantic malls is like a randezvous with reality. I see potters from the villages putting bricks on the parking space meant for the visitors to the malls. I also see little kids, of an age when they would be better off in school, cleaning tables at McDonald's. Its embarassing. As an Indian, it never ceases to amaze me, what we are doing with India and lo behold, even I am a a part of it.

Fresh from the oven !!!

2005-02-18T14:55:00.000+05:30

samay ki is aapadhaapi mein
jeevan aniyantrit ghode sa
bhaaga karta hai rozana
mujhko deta hai ulaahana
ab chal tu bhi, baandh le bistar
uth kar sangrah kar le jeevan
mrit, pracheen smritiyaan chod

jeevan chal navjeevan ore

jeevan mrtiyu hai khel anokha
maanav kab samjha ye dhokha
maati aur manav ka rishta
hain sadiyon se chala aa raha
maya aur moh ke bandhan
bandhenge mann ko andar tak
par tu inke bandhan tod

jeevan chal navjeevan ore

bahut jatil hai prem paheli
rishton ki seemayon mein ye
kasti hai jeevan ki veni
aur jab koi taara ban ke
kho jaata hai neel gagan mein
mann dhoondha karta hai usko
sapnon ke abhyaranya mein
par ab in mrigtrishnayon ke
naye chalavon se munh mor

jeevan chal navjeevan ore

On the sentimental side

2005-02-08T14:36:00.000+05:30

Have never done a song post ever. But that has been majorly owing to the fact that I believe music cannot be explained. The way music touches me, I can't share it with people. You need to be then, there, letting the honey melt in your ears, to feel the same. But, then, this song is special and Geeta Dutt and Hemant Kumar are two very special singers. A post to describe my regards to this composition and these singers is worth every bit of it.

This song is from a movie called Mamta. It is sung by Geeta and Hemant and the metaphors are so subtle, yet very powerful. And someday if you find this song, do listen to it, i think it has power to make even the lead hearts melt. See for yourself.

chupa lo yun dil mein pyaar mera
ke jaise mandir mein lau diye kee

tum apane charanon mein rakh lo mujh ko
tumhaare charanon ka fool hoon main
main sar jhukaye khadi hoon pritam
ke jaise mandir mein lau diye kee

ye sach hain jeena tha paap tum bin
ye paap maine kiyaa hai ab tak
magar thee man mein chavi tumhari
ke jaise mandir mein lau diye kee

fir aag birahaa kee mat lagaana
ke jal ke main raakh ho chukee hoon
ye raakh maathe par maine rakh lee
ke jaise mandir mein lau diye kee

Wierd Verse-Wierdest Ever !!!!!

2005-01-28T16:27:00.000+05:30

Written for a friend who feels just the same. We even put it to music and it sounds great. Maybe I should change the title...this isn't that wierd !!!

Disgust for the world
Contempt for the new
Yearning to go back to Eden-a mirage in disguise
looking at the yellowing leaves and the smog filled skies
wishing to wield the power
to destroy and then not justify

Do I have to change the world overnight
am I the Superman who still survives

A nostalgia that refuses to breathe its last
Would love to be a chameleon, but just that I can't
Strung betwixt the heaven and the hell
Not loving where I am
Can't reach where I ain't
Understanding is out of stock
Only compromises sell

Do I have to change the world overnight
am I the superman who still survives

I could give up, give in, and sit down
instead of changing the world
I could just turn it around
cull out my part of the world from the rubble
and just live with it, strong yet subtle
yet, I wish to show the mirror to the world
maybe I am the maverick who would be burnt to cinders
but then, superheroes are born to die
maybe my legend would still survive

Do I have to change the world overnight
am I the superman who still survives

Please Dont Go

2005-01-13T11:21:00.000+05:30

it happened in a day
like a whiff of smoke, you passed away
never paid heed to my screams
I just wanted you to wait, till I reached

You didnt miss the four walls that loved you so much
didnt miss the old soul in the bed beside you
did you miss the old telly and your daily pet soap
did you miss the last evening with me, and the embrace of a lifetime
if you did miss these
why didnt you wait till I reached

I cant read you now as your eyes are closed
and you cant tell me about the gossip of the neighbors
because your lips have turned cold, ice cold
they tell me your hands are like frozen sticks
but your palms were so warm when I had touched them
You could have kept your promise for once
and just waited till I reached

They would burn you like cinders and my heart would explode now
you can't take away my share of love with you
you can't rob me of the lap that brought back the child in me
you can't make me loose all that I have

please, for once, come back for me
I promise not to fight, not to tell you to keep quiet
but the misery is too much, and I would die of the pain

I wonder if I could have stopped you this time
if only you could have waited till I reached

about SWADES and my self-realizations

2004-12-28T09:47:00.000+05:30

I watched SWADES around a week back. Both of us, as mere audience in a jam packed hall, were quiet throughout the movie. I tried to hum with the songs but the impact of the motion picture was stupendous enough to mum my musical meanderings.
As a person, I always run from responsibilities. I am the kind of frog which would love to stay in its well, knowing there's a bad bad world outside, but who cares !!! But this was different. I could recognize the same helplessness that I feel when I look at a child selling water for 25 paise a glass on railway stations. I could also sense the humiliation when I see a malnutritioned child, his impoverished family. I can stand on my high pedestal and proclaim the nuances of physics, maths and chemistry to an elite crowd but has my science been able to help those, that need it the most ?
SWADES does not make you acknowledge those realities but it helps you re-recognize the facts that you have shied away from. I could understand Shahrukh's falling in love with the simplicity of the village. After all who hates the picturesque and scenic beauty of India? The filmmakers love it, so do the NRIs. But India isn't only this. This is only a small fraction of India. The beauty of Kasauli, the backwaters of Kerela, the waterbanks of Rishikesh...no this isn't what India is. It is time people rise up to see that India is also uneducated, underemployed and impoverished to the core. As Shahrukh's character says in the movie 'I dont believe we are a great country'. Yes, we are great because we have a rich culture, a proud heritage, a diverse geography and a unique sould. But we are the unluckiest people on the globe, because we have never utilized our own greatness. We have never repsected our own heritage, except to flaunt it in front of foreign tourists. We have never tapped into the problems and have only harked about greatness, greatness, even more greatness.
Saying this, I also realize, I have been an equal contributor to this mirth. How have I, an educated, well paid, Indian citizen, helped the masses. Forget the villages, have I ever done anything for the street urchins in my own city. The answer is an obvious no. There are many people who belong to the same sect as mine. Who know everything, have resources to help but they dont because, they have more pressing matters to cater to.
I made a start only a little time back. I started doing my own bit to educate the underprivileged kids. Telling them what matters in life; to count money; to understand road signs; to sign their name; to open a bank account. My engineering doesn't come straight into the picture but yes, I feel a strange fulfillment by doing this. I have somehow discovered my soul in the process, unearthed the reasons for my own existence. But I know this is not enough. A certain me can't change the world. It has to be a bigger contribution, more meaningful, more emphatic.
SWADES is not a remarkable movie. But it is a movie which would mean a lot for sleeping beauties like me-people who have deliberately lulled their own conscience to sleep because they have more pressing matters on hand. It is a wake up call and it is high time that people like us pay heed to it.

story

2004-12-10T12:15:00.000+05:30

From the barren lands across the dried banks of the river,
where the sun is so hot, it has burned the green grass,
where girls grow faster than maize and barley
i come from that land-
a small town girl with big time dreams
raring to go before others
thats coz she has no first mover advantage
she is a back bencher of the civillization
started after others had learnt their lessons
she is neither faster, nor smarter than the crowd
still she thinks she is special
her mom thinks so-and-her neighbours think the same
though she is only-
a small town girl with big time dreams
with eyes ready to burst
and a tongue ready to lash
a dignity, thats afraid of its existence
a dignity, thats her only true friend
dreams dont cost, so she dreams a lot
loses her words and stammers often
the accent, so archaic, yet truth in her eyes
her only fault being-
she is a small town girl with big time dreams

listening to good old Bon Jovi after 3 years - do you believe me !!!

2004-12-08T10:18:00.000+05:30

Its been 3 years since I picked up this dust laden cassette from my closet. Its a childhood favorite, something that I have never forgotten. Its not my favorite music but yes, I have lived on it. Now that I want peace and silence in life, Bon Jovi music seems to be, at best, tangential. But something you have grown up with; it takes time to get over it. I remember sitting with friends in the garage- our old guitar, the arcane keyboard and the hoarse voices. Its not a joke but we would just stay awake screaming NEVER SAY GOODBYE. Till my mom would actually drag me to bed and march the rest back to their homes respectively. As I am listening to the same music on the walkman right now, I can feel the tingle in my bones. The excitement of Bon Jovi, ah its magic. I want to be the same, wild kid, again. When "She's a little runaway" was the theme song for me. And now, the sophisticated, peace loving, me, cant even endorse my first love. I have graduated to ghazals, Nora jones, leaving behind, the Bruce Springstee, Bon Jovi and Joe Satriani. Its the same little poor escapist inside me.

the writer bug -it finally got the better of me

2004-12-07T13:09:00.000+05:30

This has nothing to do with my literary meanderings...just wrote it two minutes ago and I still cant reason why have I written this...might be incpired by "Jassi jaisi koi nahi" that I saw yesterday :-))))

jo sab kuch tum le jaoge
paas mere kya bach jaayega
naye naye chikane pankhon ko
agar kaat kar le jaoge
mujhpar ye akash hansega
jo sab kuch tum le jaoge
nahi paas adhikaar bachega
na koi astitva bachega
na hi koi swapn bachega
bas main tumse jud paoongi
kya jeevan ki yahi hai asha
mere is antarman ne jo
baandhe the khwabon ke dore
ooncha udne ki abhilasha
kshitij se bhi oonche kuch sapne
agar sirf abhisaar bacha hai
jeevan mein bas pyaar bacha hai
to kya jeevan vyarth nahi hai
mera aur tumhara saathi....
agar mujhe kuch de pao to
udne ka adhikaar na cheeno
mujhse mera vishwa na cheeno
ye saara aksah ne cheeno

Google - its toooo good

2004-12-07T10:17:00.000+05:30

I was doing this on-demand analyst report on Google today and the company never really ceases to amaze me !! The founders are under 40, they own around 20% of a $1.5 billion company and what more...they are competing with Microsoft and the likes. Its amazing !!
Innovation =GOOGLE and probably its the biggest buzzword going around right now. For instance this blog, its an absolute manifestation of the prowess of the company in web-search and web based services. I liked the way the company has grown. I mean if your net income grows by 700% in a period of 2 years, its not a mean feat to achieve that. While doing the analysis, I did came across pitfalls and shortcomings but they are nothing that cannot be overcome by Google as it grows. It anyways is a very young company right now and is competing with market incumbents like Microsoft.
The simple and biggest threat is Microsoft, coz of its sheer size. The company devours a market it takes head-on and it size, revenues, market capitalization along with the monopoly in desktop PCs are factors that might even surpass and overcome GOOGLE's innovative genius.
I know this is boring for some of you...but the company has really excited me in these last two days and I just thought about telling thist o everyone in my blog...hope nobody minds !!!

a happy memory

2004-11-26T16:13:00.000+05:30

This is something that happened long time back. Why I am remembering it now, I dont know, but its alwasy been one of my happiest memories.
Long back, walking through the concrete streets of my college campus, I noticed this small little pup, crouching behind the thick foliage of the side bush. I like street dogs. Actually for no real reason as such. They just seem so lonely and vulnerable that they make an insecured entity like me feel much better (i know its a real sadist reason, but I wont lie). The pup was dirty and I could see the bacteria and fungus right through its fading fur coat. Yet, I couldnt take my eyes off it. It was annual fest time in my college and there were banners and streamers all around. Couples roaming hand in hand. Everyone so happy, so gay, except the poor little pup.
Time was running fast and I had lunch to catch at my hostel mess. So, forgetting the little pup and basking in the sudden revelation of at least somebody being less happy than me, I strode along. No sooner had I moved that I saw the little thing following me. Infact following is a small word, it was stalking me. At first, I felt sympathetic (read patronizing) but then it irritated me. I could see my classmates staring at me. So, I increased my pace and almost ran inside my hostel gates.
Doggy didnt go even then. I was clueless. I only know English or Hindi. Dog lingua is not something I know. Neither have I had any contact with dogs ever before. i just take sadistic pleasure in sympathizing with them. But this was different. The puppy was looking at me with watery eyes and I could feel that it needed me. Now need is an important thing. Nothing or nobody ever before has needed me the way it needed me then. The little selfish thing that I am, I did something absolutely unexpected. I paid for a bowl full of milk and two rotis and gave it to the puppy. The happiness and fulfillment that I felt on that day is almost unparalleled. I could feel proud of myself that day and thats something I have felt rarely before.

After so much of cribibng

2004-11-25T12:49:00.000+05:30

Looking at the kind of comments I am attracting because I am cribbing day in and day out...for a change lemme try and write something happy.
About my home maybe. My home is not something which stands out, or has anything unique in it. It is a simple red brick house, unfinished, painted in white plaster, that too in patches. It has an orange door (look at the interesting camaraderie of colors) and a green lawn with a blue gate. I like my home because its a home, not just a house. I can see the small saplings I had planted in my lawn when I was a kid. I can see the imprints of my mom's henna tinted hands on the side wall. There is the jackfruit tree in the courtyard, something which has grown up with me, and has now stopped growing, stopped yielding fruit, and yet begging my folks to let it stay, just because it loves that place as much as I do.
My home is a part of me. I can smell myself in it when I knock the door. I can see that it loves me when it keeps my memories, even if they wither through the time.

BACK TO WORK :-( :-(

2004-11-22T09:15:00.000+05:30

you know i should have been better off living in hills...removed from civillization...I just hate to live in a crowd full of people, people and more people. I love my folks, love them so much that I wish there were companies in a laid back city like kanpur so that I could have been doing a job there...but alas god is unkind and so it makes engineers out of people like me and then makes them work in a crazy city like delhi where one week of work makes you pine to return back home.
I dont know why my folks and everybody around me thinks that I ought to do an MBA...I have no such fancies...infact I would be happy sitting in front of my work desk, do a work and be paid decently for doing it....but people...they just make you do nething...the other day I was asking a family friend perusing my horoscope, who was making predictions of unparalleled fame and titanic wealth for me....what would happen to me...am i really going to make it big someday ....and he with conviction dripping from his voice promised me so...
So chill baby...every dog has his day and mine would be there pretty soon...so I should stop sobbing and get back to work...poor, old work....

poor me !!

2004-11-04T14:38:00.000+05:30

tujhse naraaz nahi zindagi hairaan hoon main.....
very strange how a bout of depression makes everything dark around you...thats what grief does for me.....it shrouds everything, even the things that are going terrific for me. I am the kind who cries for even the smallest of things. I am too clumsy at handling joy but grief is something that i have a masters degree in...too much pessimism and too much depression, thats what I am.
My friends would always tell me...that i cry because i dont have new shoes while i fail to look at people who dont even have feet to wear shoes on....i try to look...seriously....but then I somehow feel my sadness is so diproportionately huge that nothing can be compared to it...selfish....!!! very very selfish !!!
I kind of started planning my itinerary...and foremost among the must do things is....that I would improve myself mentally and physically....I would be a good girl now....who wont cry and make a song about petty things !!!

winter is here !!

2004-11-01T09:11:00.000+05:30

I was in a pretty bad mood last time...though things havent really perked up this time too...at least winter is around the corner...and that makes everything nice...even sad old delhi :-)
Plus, I am going home on friday for a loooooooong leave.....I have never actually taken a vacation for 15 days and actually gotten away from work...but it seems destined to be a work free holiday this time...havent really planned my itinerary...but i would sit on thursday night and make a long list of things i would positively do this time...
possibly make a trip to college or ruffle up some school memories...as i told you...nothing planned as yet....would see what to do....very soon....