Thursday, December 06, 2007

Something About Nothing

Someone asked me the other day, Tom Cruise or Matt Damon? I was submerged in Bourne Ultimatum so Matt Damon, I said.

Someone asked me, Vodka or Tequila,Vodka meant malaysia and madness, so vodka, I said.

Someone asked me, Rahul Dravid or Roger Federer, Rahul lives in my backyard, so Federer I said.

Someone asked me, apple or orange, someone else likes apples too much, Orange, I said.

Someone asked me, workshop or just work, workshop is hours of lecture, no head or tail, just mutually understandable yawns, so just work, I said.

Someone asked me, football or cricket, football is just 90 minutes of red cards and yellow, so Cricket, I said.

Someone asked me, office or college, Office is just work, work, work gossip and fun, so College, I said.

Someone asked me, tech writing or sports journalism, I cant write for long about stuff I really don't understand, so Sports journalism, I said.

Someone asked me, sunrise or sunset, sunrise is beginning of a new day, so sunset, I said.

Someone asked me, harry Potter or a thousand splendid suns, harry potter is brilliantly fantastic, so a thousand splendid suns, I said.

Someone asked me, late night dance party or a long walk, two left feet, so long walk, I said.

Someone asked me, facebook or orkut, gmail I said.

Someone asked me, Tiramisu or Dairy Milk, Tiramisu is yum, so Dairy Milk, I said.

Someone asked me, mail or msg, virtual is not real, so Talk, I said.

Someone asked me, boy friend or just friends, boy friend is not happening for whatever reason, so just friends, I said.

Someone asked me, single or committed, everyone is either single or committed, so OR, I said.

Someone asked me, something or nothing, I said well, nothing in particular, but I wish I could say something.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Truly Asia!

I know I know, I have been Malaysiaing to everyone ever since I came back from a four day conference from Kuala Lumpur. But I have only Malaysia to blame.

I was really neither keen nor excited about it. I actually dint wanna go. I was going through the-please-leave-me-alone phase. But that was not to be. Malaysia changed a lot of things for me.

So, the first day we land in KL and then take a two-hour bus ride to Genting Highlands which is 4500 mtrs above sea level. The roads all seemed not very different from bangalore, except that they were wider and cleaner. Cars and bikes would catch your eye for an instant. if you notice that is. We reach Genting and get on to a cable car which would take us to the First World Hotel (third world people in first world hotel hehe) It is supposed to be the fourth largest in the world with more than 6000 odd rooms. It was Massive! And people who are geographically challenged like me are advised not to venture alone.

The cable car was taking us deeper and deeper into the clouds, the green below was merging with the white above, at one point of time all we could see was mist! Pure white mist..Its so weird, we cant see when its pitch black and we cant see when its pure white...Naked truth of sorts!!

The ride over, the excitement, hardly. We are assigned rooms and told to assemble for lunch. we do as directed. I was hungry as hell. the minute we stepped into the buffet, our sensory organs started working overtime. There was food everywhere. P introduced me to this delicacy called 'Satay', its nothing but chicken on a stick, to be very very basic, doused in peanut sauce. YUMMMY...after I allowed it in, there was nothing else I wanted. It was heaven served on a stick!!!!

Post two days at Genting and a lot of work, we move to KL. Two hour drive again..We catch the glimpse of the Petronas! Beautiful..Read in papers, seen on TV, never thought I would be standing under it one day. Life!

KL has an amazing night life. I made full use of the anonymity the city gave me. Went clubbing for three nights, got sloshed, danced on the table, forgot the world..Just what I needed..

More than the prima facie experience, Malaysia taught me much more than anything else ever could. it made me question commitment in a relationship, it made me think about how true a person can be to himself and to someone waiting back home. How drunk can you get to forget or make the inebriated state an excuse to forget and give in to temptations? How can not being in control of yourself, give you freedom? What freedom?

How far would you go with a guy ( a guy you really are attracted to) who is already in a relationship? Is it just about the opportunity? The opportunity of him being available for that instant..I dont know.. I dont know whats right and you?

Anyway, perceptions are different. Malaysia was an experience of a lifetime. On the flight bac, I brought with me a lot of memories and a few lessons learnt.

The biggest being "The most predictable thing about life is its unpredictability"....

Nothing is as true as that...

Nothing is as true as Truly Asia!

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Picture Abhi Baaki Hai Mere Dost....

What happens when you go with an intention of watching 'Jab We Met', buy tickets for 'Saawariya' but end up watching 'Om Shanti Om'? You come back with a smile on your face.

OSO, as they call it, was not a movie I was dying to watch ever since I saw the promos. I thought Shah Rukh Khan looked too old with his six packs, Deepika looked too pretty, the set looked too made up and everyone seemed like they were trying too hard. I could not connect with anything. I read the review, like i always do, but I have never taken any review seriously, i have to watch the movie myself to say anything about it. And so i did!

I am not a Shah Rukh Khan fan. But he is a people's actor, he gives them what they want and he works his 'abs' off to do it! I admire him, and thats that. Or so I thought. His best performance to date for me is Swades. He was Mohan Bhargav and not Shah Rukh Khan.

Om shanti om in all its entirety celebrates Indian Cinema. Cinema with all its extravagance, illogic, cliched dialogues, manmohan desai style milna-bichadna, purely co-incidental, naach gaana, hundred costumes in one song, poor boy- rich girl, the maa and her dil, the kaash aaj tere pitaji zinda hote, the aaj se bees saal pahle (and beyond). The audience loved the 70s.

I have grown up watching a lot of seventies. So much so, that I can tell the name of the movie by just looking at a scene. I cant say the same about the 90s though. I am yet to come across an actor as brilliant as Amitabh Bachchan (Anand, Agneepath, Chupke Chupke, zanjeer, sholay, Deeewar), as natural as Shammi kapoor, not exactly 70s( Teesri Kasam,Junglee, Brahmachari, andaz) as romantic as Rishi Kapoor( khel khel mein, bobby,Kabhie kabhie, karz) , as versatile and effortless as Sanjeev Kumar ( you have to watch Koshish, Sholay, Khilona, Pati Patni aur Vo) as intense and as good looking as Vinod Khanna.

Not to forget the beautiful Smita Patil, Shabana Azmi (watch Arth, mirch masala) Rekha in Umrao Jaan and Khoobsurat, Jaya Bhaduri in Abhimaan, Mili, Guddi, Koshish and Sholay. Sharmila Tagore in Aradhna, Amer Prem, chupke chupke. Outstanding.

Also Amol Palekar with movies like Baton Baton mein and Golmaal. Naseeruddin Shah in masoom, sparsh and mirch masala. There was a bad bad villian, there was a too good to be true hero, then there was hero vs the establishment (mostly during the emergency) milna- bichadna still continues. Numerous love triangles, one very well made that I distinctly remember is 'Sangam.' My friends in school used to tell me, i need to go with the times. But i am a 70s fan and I love it.

Which is also why I loved OSO. yes, the dialogues could have been better, screenplay less dragging, but at the same time attention was paid to the details. In every sense of the word, OSO is an innovative movie. I felt it showed the routine re-incarnation drama with a million elements and that to me is intelligent cinema. You get the feel of that era, there is a subtle connect with Karz, only if you wanna see it. There is a lot of exaggerated play up of emotions, there is that trademark music.

Post-thirty years, running around trees is replaced by item numbers, the actor or the main lead has more say in the movie than the director himself. Cinema is more real but at the same time more plastic.

Arjun Rampal was superb. Deepika can act. Shah Rukh Khan looks sexy with the six packs. Shreyas Talpade's timing is brilliant. Kiron Kher's rendition of Nirupa Roy is worth watching.

Music was not bad either. The title track and 'ankhon mein teri' are songs you take with you. I also liked 'kaise naino se nain milaon sajna!'

OSO was a blend. The struggle of a junior artiste, a filmi mother, star struck Om, so much in love, the villain with his cruelty, pappu his best friend forever and the love for cinema. It was entertaining. It was colourful. I laughed till I cried. After a long time, I was taking back with me just the feel good factor. Happys Endings!

It was special cos I watched with one of my bestest friends. An evening I wont forget for a long time to come.

Tum bore to nahi hue na?


Saturday, November 10, 2007

Shit Happens

Yes, I know. I know I have written this several times over and some more. But now its not for me. This is for a dear friend who is special in a special way, someone whose poetry goes beyond mere words, someone whose writing amazes me every time I read it and someone who I have grown to admire each passing day. But, this is not about her. Its about what she feels and what she feels is important.

This seems like its going nowhere, but it is. We always have questions, I have many, all the time about everything. Some of my questions hardly have an answer, when i cant find them, I write. I also write when I find them. Questions like why people meet when they have to part? Or why people decide that its time they parted ways? And when they do come back for whatever reason, what do you do? Welcome them with arms wide open or say screw you too?

No, its not about love. Not at all. Its about friendship and the love within. Ok that sounds weird, I shall rephrase. Its about memories, gathered, nurtured, fallen and gathered again. Enough and more to fill a life time. 'Memories' is not a plural of 'memory'.

What do you do when a friend walks out on you? A friend who meant more than life itself, who meant music beyond orchestra, who meant poetry beyond prima facie phrases, who meant all that and much more. You go back to all those songs that dint mean the same once. Those conversations that lasted hours, when time was just another word. So now are they all meaningless? Or had I forgotten that nothing lasts forever? Or was I expecting too much?

What do you say when they tell you 'I dont feel the closeness anymore, I have changed, not you?' without realizing that everything changes for the 'you' post-profound-statement... It happened to me, not once but several times over, it happened to her and I am sure it happens to you too...But only because something happens so often it doesn't mean life is like that! Or maybe it does, I don't know.

My best friends have walked out, moved away, without a warning, a sign or a signal. But if you know them well enough, you would understand that they have better things to do than making memories with you. Thats a sign, you choose to ignore. Well, I chose to ignore.

I was telling her, I cant write about this cos my wounds have healed or i have scratched them so bad that they don't bleed anymore. I am immune, or so I thought. Her wounds are fresh, mine don't seem any different. But i am only wounded, not dead yet! Neither is she.

Life goes on, people change, you change too. Sorry for sounding like an introductory paragraph of some crappy psycho book, but its true. What remains is the M word. What do you do with those?

For you, my friend I have only this to say:

'Meet and part is the scheme of life, Part and meet is the hope of life'

Shit happens. We need to learn how to flush, now and again and forever.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

19, Dravid

1996: An eleven year old, young girl, surfs through boring TV channels, looking for a reason for the invention of television. She finds it. A ball running towards the boundary, a fielder hopelessly behind it. Camera moves, batsman in frame. Girl has never seen him before, cricket was still Sachin Tendulkar for her, like everybody else.

Things changed. He had arrived, but right now only for testing times. Scoring a 95 on debut versus England, he found himself replacing an injured Manjrekar. He was the new rising star. Not yet.

But for the girl, he was the new idol. What struck her was his silent aggression, his determination, his temperament and his way of silencing his critics. When he was on the field, only his bat spoke. In an age of swashbuckling, stylish batsmen, no. 19 jerseyed Dravid played all strokes in the book to perfection. Branded as technically sound but slow (BTW he is the fastest to reach 9000 runs in test cricket, breaking Brian Lara's record by one innings), he found himself splashed in sports pages of dailies, but couldn't find a spot in the one-day squad.

That was then. Batting at No. 3, 4, 5, 6, keeping wickets, even bowling, he did everything in his might for the team and some more. His batting hardly failed him, his gut never. Girl had a new definition for cricket. Rahul Dravid.

From being a 'defensive' batsman, to standing shoulder to shoulder with the best batsmen in the world, finding his name etched in records previously broken, made and shared, Dravid had become more than just another name. He had become an ambassador of consistency, grit and team spirit. Girl came to know him as the 'wall'. Girl doesn't like labels.

So, the 'Wall' that has now crumbled as they say, is the only player to have scored a century against every test playing nation away from home. First Indian batsman to have scored five double centuries, each bigger than the other. Girl witnessed all. A silent, but loyal spectator.

Waiting for a wicket to fall, just to see him bat, waiting for him to take on the field, snatching the ball from the air at a speed of naughts, taking the most amazing catches fielding at a spot known as the 'slip'!

Today, dropped from the side, he doesn't need this post. But, the girl needs to tell him that he is, was, and will be her hero, now and forever. He needs to know that he has been the teacher, the guide, the mentor. He needs to know that he has provided the game of cricket with a follower who wanted to be like him, but who realized that being Dravid is not easy.

Cricket is not going to be the same. Just not going to be the same.

No. 19 Dravid, will walk again, this time to prove a point to those in the selection committee. You say, its no big deal? For the girl, it is.

For the girl it is because the cover drive still haunts.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

143 Really?

I have conveniently, and for long, avoided writing about something so close to everyone's heart, literally. Its a question that refuses an answer to itself. I am not going to ask that profound question, cos I am sure, none of us can answer. In these 22 years of inconsequential existence, I have experienced being in the four letter word. Probably i would never say it.

I have fallen deeply, head over heels. I have fallen miserably too. Like everybody else. I could never understand how a person can like two people at once, or why are there certain norms to be followed in a relationship. What is the difference between being close friends and being in a relationship? Lust?

It all seemed fake after a point of time. It seemed mechanical, i mean, a relationship should be respected, the 'other' should be. No matter what. Why I say it seemed mechanical, simply because of the way a relationship is perceived

"you have a boy friend ? or are you single?" (no I think I am double)
" So u like him?''
"when are you planning to tell her?"
" are you going out with him?"
"what did she say? rejected or accepted?" (like its a job offer)
" so he dumped you? you guys broke up?"
"what you gonna do now, i think you should just move on, you deserve better."

Thank you very much. I know I should move on, but who answers my questions? Can you? you wont know how it was cos you are not me and I am not you. The stupidest thing to say, once somebody loses the other, is 'get over'. I can fake it too and say yeah man everything is cool, its over and then reconcile saying it was never meant to be. really?

How does someone become so important that you forget the world? everything previously associated with something else, just goes back to that one person. why? I don't know. really.

The feeling with which everything started, loses its way to a truckload of crap all brought upon by the self. Do I regret falling for someone? I don't. It felt right then, it feels right now. i feel love like i feel everything else. Its a FEELING.

I was losing it. I wasn't living up to expectations, those that I have from myself. I have lost myself in the process, it is an evolution in itself. thats when I realized it probably is not my cup of tea. I can be in love, but never say it. ever.

Being in love is different for different people. you can be in it, but not necessarily be in a relationship. I can be in love forever, but what am i committed to? to being in love or the person? What exactly is commitment?

The feeling of being in love is exciting to say the least, its up to me to let myself loose or say no way, its not for me. But the question is do i have the guts or whatever it takes to think of someone as a prospective 'other'? probably not, I would prefer watching the action from the sidelines. Really?

I would be lying if I say, I don't wanna be in love. Really. Maybe I am, right now, maybe not. Anyhow the point is I don't have whatever it takes to say it. I 'really' don't.

1 4 3 is just a number. And love is just another four letter word.

This post in all its totality is nonsensical and therefore can be ignored.

But do 143? Really? but who is you?

I shall keep it to myself. Really.

Friday, October 05, 2007


A-5. My school bus stops in front of our apartment gate. Students step out into the scorching 2:30 pm sun, glad and tired after a day's work. I help my brother down and we cross the road with a bunch of other school mates. Ansari Bhaiya stands near the gate, envelopes in hand, doing his cutomary duty, that of guarding our homes.
"bhaiya meri koi chitthi aayi hai, koi courier, kuch bhi?"
Yeah right, like I am a celebrity waiting to read fan mails.
But he has never said no. Ansari bhaiya never says no. He nodded and I jumped.

"appa ke liye hai, koi bank se aaya hai. ye lo". He smiles and gives me water to drink. "bahut dhoop hai na, tum logo ko ye iskool vaale dopahar ko kyun chodte hain?"

"bhaiya kabhi to chodte hain na, ab iskool mein rehna kaun chahata hai?" He raises his hand at the mention of 'iskool', as I run away. He has helped me in more ways than one, bought tennis balls when we lost ours, fought with boys for us, conspired with us in fooling the boys on april fool's day! I have conversed with him about his family and his life as a security guard. He has advised me on several occasions to behave myself and act like a girl should, "varna tumse koi shaadi nahi karega, batadeta hoon main". All those moments remain in me.

Today, I don't know where he is.

I leave office at a peak traffic hour. Cross one road, walk some distance and then stop. Bangalore roads have signals at the most bizzare places and four policemen manning a four lane road. Result: confusion.

From somewhere a hand comes and holds mine.
"baa maa" I obediently follow this blue sareeed old lady, wrinkled-hands of steel. We cross successfully, she beams at me like we have just crossed the english channel, I smile and walk away. She stops as she needs to cross another road. For some reason I turn and wave at her, she smiles and waves back, shouting "Nagamma". I am guessing thats her name.

Today, I don't know where she is.


"sadhana! epudi irrukai ma?"( how are you) Nobody has ever called me so lovingly. He used to, unfailingly. Always. "you dont meet me these days, nor do you come this side, everything alrite?" He gets out of the car, opens the door for me to sit and there begins a rendezvous. Dorai uncle is the best Driver my mama ever had, he talks about my cousins and how they have grown up and spend less and less time with parents. Telling me in a way, not to indulge in the same. I nod. He looks at me and says, "you know when I was small....." his voice trails off and I am spellbound by his pre-independence tales...

Today, I don't know where he is.


A broken knee, a torn jeans, a bag on my back. I stumble and stagger towards my college food court, the usual post-accident scene. I see him, pot-bellied, dark, white moustache. He takes my bag and helps me with torn papers waiting to slip out of my wounded hands. Subramaniam, my favourite security guards and one of the most valuable friends I managed to gather from Christ College.
He helped me all the way to the bloody third floor, (these people love to give our question paperson the himalayas) all my other friends were studying.

Today, I don't know where he is.


"tibban aaytha ma?" (have u had tiffin?)
"aaythu" pause..
We pass the sixth floor. The lift moves, he says "too much traffic these days, how do you manage?" I just smile...
Evening arrives. I get back into the lift and he presses 0. He is buys reading the newspaper, I ask him, what do you do the whole day in the lift, going up and down?"
"nothing, listen to other people's conversations, heheheh"
"whats your name?"
"Kimraj. nimma hesaru?"
"ah! monday ok? byebye"
I smile.

Today, I know where he is.

Phone rings. A familiar name.
"hi, how are you?"

MT-"fine. so tell me."
"I am wearing a white shirt today"

MT- "so?"
"I thought you always liked me in white"

Call gets cut...
Me thinks does my opinion matter, did it ever?

Today, I know where he is....

Does that make a difference?

Today, I know where he is........

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Guilty As Charged

I am angry. For several reasons than one, but I am really pissed with the way these people have treated our hockey players. I am using too simple words but this is anger speaking.When we say 'Indian team', its understood or rather is a given that we are talking abt the Indian Cricket Team. Yes we won the world cup, a couple of days back, yes it was a great match, yes I blogged about it. But I myself did not blog about the hockey team's victory, nobody I know did. What does this say about us? about me?? I am angry with me.

Indian cricket team beat australia by 15 runs, good job. India beat Pakistan in a bowl out(when there is a tie in the final scores a bowl-out is called for akin to shoot out in football), India beat england by 18 runs, India beat SA by 37 runs...All good wins, but close ones. Iam not taking anything away from the cricketers, I watched every match, without blinking an eye. I knew every player in every team, mostly, by heart. I can recognise them from the way they walk, stand or talk. Everything from batting line-ups to players unfit. Just about everything.

The hockey team (no 'india' here) beat the balls outta their opponents. India beat sri lanka by 20 goals, yes it means 20-0. Thailand 16-0. Pakistan 3-1 South Korea 7-2. I would like to mention here that South Korea is more than a formidable team. Its the Australia of hockey, its easier to understand that way isnt it? But is it good enough to earn the team 3 million dollars?

Not that ist not, just that they cant. Simply cos, the IHF unlike BCCI doesnt have sponsors, therefore not enough money. BCCI is the richest board in the world, maybe thats why members of the board and the politicians occupied the front row, waving shamelessly to the camera men, as if they toiled in the field.Yuvraj's six sixes got him a crore, a porsche car, match fees obviously and some more. This is minus the selling products campaign.

The whole Indian hockey team got just Rs. 50,000. A bonus of 1000 for each goal scored!! A huge hue and cry over that too... Sahara sponsors both hockey and cricket in India. While, the men in blue got a luxury house each, the hockey team dint even get a brick.Today, the Indian cricket team is back in India. A grand welcome. The hockey team is on a hunger strike, fighting for their rights. Who is gonna give them a morsel?

I cant, cos I am as guilty as the administration.
I had to google most hockey facts.

Guilty as charged.

Monday, September 24, 2007

Bas Ek Naam IN-DI-A

'Itihaas bhi kabhi pahli baar hua tha'

Said Dhoni on the front page of the Times of India. I normally dont read sports news before an important match. Simply cos the 'media' of which I am very much a part , takes the bunch of eleven hard working players to the peak, dangerously increasing the expectations of a nation that suffers from cricket mania. And then pushing them down from that pseudo peak to ground zero.

But, on 24th Sep. 2007, I did read that bit of news. That one line, a quote for the journalist and a statement for Team India, forced me to stop and rethink. (I also got excited cos I had just found a status msg for myself!). Here was a young captain of an even younger side, exhubing confidence of having beaten the 'kangaroos' convincingly, saying with a firm head on his shoulders, that history does repeat itself, but to repeat it has to happen atleast once.

1996, the year I actually started following serious cricket, a cricket beyond Sachin Tendulkar. I genuinely got interested in the game, thanks to Dravid's cover drive. A few months hence, and a couple of nail biting victories later, I was there. A number in the multitudes that love the game and a tad inch closer to understanding the sport. Thats when it ceased to remain just a game.

I played with the boys, even though I was always a fielder on the far end of the ground where the ball would think twice before reaching. I got myself trained, standing behind the stumps, like an idiot. Fast bowler from the far end, inside the nets there isnt much place. The ball mistakes me for the stump and I get hit right on my abdomen. Pain. Excruciating pain. I quit.

Why I narrated this unimportant incident here is just to say that I know how difficult it is to run with those pads on, to adjust yourself to see through the helmet, to make yourself comfortable with the leather ball, to get used to the pain is a pain in itself. Its more of a mind game. Which is where the amount of respect I have for Cricket comes from.

The men in Blue have been through a match-fixing scandal, have lost a world cup, have had an early exit from another, have struggled overseas, have been dubbed as chokers, have never had a steady opening combination, have had several wicket-keepers or bastmen, but not one wicket-keeper batsman, have reached the finals several times and lost. In the process, lost on a heavy chunk of people who call themselves 'cricket lovers'. At a time when the team needed the nation, it got brickbats. I could never understand the lack of faith. Yes, I did feel devastated, shattered, but wouldn they feel worse?? Its their job. And trust me, they want to win too!

Today, however, is a different day. We just won the twenty-twenty world cup. This shorter version of the game has been debated,discussed and dissected. Now, it will be accepted even by those who worship test cricket and are afraid of its extinction. Cricket will survive in any and every form. Detractors will always be there, its about how you play it. Whether its five days, fifty overs or twenty, doesnt really matter. Had we lost it would have been a different ball game altogether...hmm..for the media, definitely...

Here is to a team that has been fearless, passionate, persevering and deserving.
To the former team that has been same as above.
To the team that won the 1983 world cup.
Gave us something to cheer about.
Took us out of our mundane lives.
Made us realise that it aint over, till its over.
To those commentators who made english sound like such an interesting language.
To Tony Greig, Harsha Bhogle, Ravi Shastry.
To Sachin, Ganguly, Dravid.
To those who made it to team India.
To those who dint, 'quitting isnt worth the effort'.
To Dhoni and his entire team.
To Bhai for introducing me to the game.
To Pricky, who was the only person other than me who believed we would do it, no matter what..

From the bat to the ball,
From the backs to the 'wall'
Team India never had a great Fall
It was not just a status msg. after all!!!!!!

In the end what matters is..
Bas Ek Naam IN-DI-A....


Why wasnt the Indian hockey team all over the newspapers when it won the Asia Cup beating South Korea, a team known for its better deal with the stick? More importantly, why did'nt I blog about it, if i call myself sport lover? What exactly defines the 'times' of India?

Nothing much, Iam just wondering about the 'IN-DI-A' bit...
Thats all..

Monday, September 10, 2007

Just a Ping Away...

Torn pages
from a diary.
Twisted dog ears,
Traces of memory...

A flash of thought,
Spills over like
a forgotten bookmark
from sandwiched shards of nothingness..

I wipe it out from
time to time
Enough of this mist
Enough of wordless mime.

It comes back,
like an old story
in a new cover
But the issue is closed...

Weird it is,
this juxtaposition,
Mind against the heart
In terrible opposition...

Between a dream,
and a bygone nightmare,
a severed thread lingers
completely in despair..

Open arms, I waited
for a long lost gesture
My own annihilation..

I search in vain
for a little more pain..
But what do I gain?

Just a phony call
that found its way
saying, 'I was just a ping away'..

Sorry, a network problem..
You are no more connected..
The issue is closed....
Exactly a ping away...

Monday, August 27, 2007

Tu Bhai hai to apun bhi behen hai!

Actually, I really dont think I should blog about this cos the guy in question, is being very nasty with me right now, he just threatened with hand gestures, to shut down the comp. But because I dont take such things to heart, I shall continue..probably he does'nt know he is being written about! Blame it on the innocence of his age or should I admit, his 'I-care-a-damn' attitude?

Whatever the reason, (see even I dont care!), the point is this is a post waiting to be blogged. When I was in the eighth standard, our class teacher told us that we need to celebrate rakhi! we were shocked. Most of us were open mouthed and dumbstruck for very obvious reasons. Thats the kuch kuch hota hai phase and this lady was telling us to do a bhaiya mere rakhi ke bandhan ko nibhaana...She was like all the girls will buy one rakhi each and all the boys should get something for the girls..fair enough...but the problem is, its according to your bloody roll number, so if u happen to be romantically inclined towards anyone around your roll call, then thats the end of the knight in shining armour and farewell to the dreamgirls...

I personally was not in favour of encouraging such a blasphemous relationship. I have a brother at home and I dont need to add to that number. This is the only place where I can bitch abt him and Iam making use of this golden opportunity...

So, when I was really small, and he was minus four smaller than me, we had a fight. Whats new? lots actually. Our fights have always seen the glint of new age weapons, it was never hit-with-whatever-you-find. Thats not how real warriors fight, thats random self-defence. The weapon in question here is a punching machine.. He hit me hard with it, on my back. And that was just the beginning of my romance with back injuries, that keep reminding me, in Arnold the great's famous words - "I will be back".

Years later, when we matured into responsible individuals, we got a new TV at home. Its USP for us was definitely the remote. U have the remote, u have the control, thinking thus, a deal was made and it was mutually decided to give each other a day with the remote. one day for me, one day for him. It was the fastest deal in the history of independent India, there was no one 'left' to oppose it anyway! thanks to my parents who firmly believed in hum do hamare do..

And then reality hit hard, we were informed that we were gonna vacate the delhi house and move to bangalore, for good. That was probably the first time that we realised we live in the same house. That was the beginning of a completely weird relationship.

We grew up, he did, definitely. He got friends, a nice bunch. He has always been the dominating kind, his following thus, is a bunch of wayward kids who look upto him. And he loves it and I love that. Temper plays around his nose, and he makes no attempt to silence it. I am not scared of it though, maybe Iam but thats just a wee bit.

We used to play a lot together, even though we had our own gender specific friends. I learn cricket from him and since then I have been trying to impress him both with the ball and the bat, but in vain. He never complements, scolds always, but that has made me push myself harder. Sometimes I feel like he is my elder brother, but when I see that cheeky smile on his face, " Akka! enodu akka! " ( my sister!) I realise that my purse is gonna say good bye to a big bunch.

His face gives away his innermost feelings, how much ever he tries to hide. Behind that tough exterior is a sensitive soul, aiye sounds like some axe effect ad.. But thats true, he has cried his heart out after watching an emotionally charged movie 'sagar' . He says all kinds of things about the Indian cricket team, but then ends up biting his nails... He is what I call, the secret,silent, nail-biting spectator.

You should witness the dressing up ceremony. Bath over. towel rolled. mirror in fsront, full x-ray of the face, applies axe, almost empties the bottle. I fume. Wears jeans, takes shirts out...selects:

Bhai: oi ye theek hai kya?
MT: hmmm..
Bhai: theek se bata na..
MT: haan theek hai..
Bhai: (not convinced)
MT: tujhe kaun dekhne vala hai, kuch bhi pehenke jaana..
Bhai: tu kabhi theek se nahi batati..
MT: to puchta kyun hai?
Bhai: aur kaun batayega?
MT: (smiles) red pehenke jaa, vaise bhi tere paas kuch hai nahi..
Bhai: to leke dena.
MT vanishes...

This is an everyday affair...and will continue for years to come...I might not be able to say it on his face ever, but he is one guy I will do anything for...cos he just bought me chocolate cake from sweet chariot...that reminds me he is an awesome cook...extremely brilliant..he can make a five star dish outta dhabe ka khana and both will tempt your taste buds to ask for more... And he is really funny, you should see him sing and dance..His jokes are wicked and soon you will learn to laugh at yourself and when he laughs at yours, you feel like you have accompolished something...I mean, I feel I have...all the time..He can sing besura and bring the building down and if I do the same he says " sadhana raat ho gayi hai, akal nahi hai kya tere mein?" And I increase my volume....

I love him.

Completely, genuinely,honestly....even though he goes crazy over football,over liverpool, and is mad about red...He will go a long way,I know. He is so unlike me, and that is reason enough. Dismantle anything and give it to him, u will find a new and improved version,be it a broken cd, a comp,or a broken heart. Kids love him..Harish bhaiya chahiye, Harish Bhaiya chahiye...

Thanks for that arm around my shoulder
Thanks for being with me
Thanks for letting me win remote fights, and giving in to my stupidities
Thanks for teaching me cricket and making me fallmadly in love with it
Thanks for telling me I suck instead of flattering me to death
Thanks for everything....
have a wonderful life...i hope things between us dont change when u become a big man ;) u know what that means!

" bhai jao pahle us aadmi ka sign leke aao, jisne hamara ghar kharida tha, uske baad mere bhai, tu kahi bhi sign karne bol, main karungi.."

For all the songs we love and all the laughs we have shared and the tears....I know I irritate u too much, but this is just for you..

Hope u have the patience to read...

Take Care

He loves red...

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Chak De India!!

Yes. I watched the movie...finally, after witnessing house full boards all over the city, I got to watch it on this very special day, 15th August 2007. Sixty years is a long time...The tv channels understand it, so does the media.. From CNN-IBN to NDTV, and our very own aaj tak... there were debates, indo-pak one sided superficial discussions...There were special shows, taking us back to the past, 1947 to 2007...our achievements, our contributions, our struggle...

I watched all that and much more. I was one of the millions listening to patriotic songs, repeatedly being played on TV. nothing moved me for quite some time. I surfed and re surfed and surfed again, the buttons on my remote are no more embossed. I was searching for something, I dont know what. In the process, my fingers trembled and went back two channels, some weird awards and a scantily audienced quiz show later, I found it. A sardarji was singing,

ae guzarne vaali hawa bata
Mera itna kaam karegi kya....

and it went on to..

Main vaapas aaoonga
Main vaapas aaoonga

And I realised what I was searching for...I cried... It touched me, the way the guy sang, he could barely sing cos his voice was choking...But it was straight from the heart, genuine, not the annu kapoor type.

I can still hear his voice. Why I brought this up here? Cos I felt like, cos I just wanted to, thats what freedom is all about, isnt it?

Chak de India was an experience in itself, no I am not gonna review the movie, but for me this was Shahrukh Khan's best performance after Swades. He has done a brilliant job. the dialogues are intelligent and delivered superbly, there is subtle humour with immaculate timing...They could have done a better job with the screenplay, but I am no expert. The title track rocks, it makes you wanna dance!! Even though you know the outcome, you will find yourself surprisingly sitting at the edge of your seat, biting those dirty nails off...even if you pretend to predict!

So thats that. But what happened after the movie left me with a few questions. We, that is my friend and I, came out from the theatre, searching for an auto. every auto guy we asked said 150 bucks for 8 kms, I have always detested the incessant right that they seem to possess with no rhyme or reason and more often than not they end up getting a piece of my mind. So, I said "aap apne paas apna auto rakho"..

Next auto, a flag sitting pretty, looking beautiful on top of it, the guy said "ten rupees extra dena madam"
MT: Sirf 7 baje hain. kamsekam jhanda rakhke nainsafi mat karo. sharam aani chhaiye tumko.
Auto: thhek hai baitho madam.
MT: meter se zyada nahi dooongi.
Auto: theek hai na madam, meter laga diya.
MT: baad mein ladayi mat karna.
Auto: aap baithiye na madam..

The three wheeler zooms past the bangalore not-so-trafficky-evening. As I read his name plate that said mahaboob pasha.... The wind sways the flag on my face, I touch it, with pride, as I glance through it and read a hoarding which said "dangerously desirable"....I smile

We get down, and my friend tells the auto guy,
F: bura na mano to ek baat kahu. flag utar do, andhera ho gaya hai.
auto: nods...

The first thought or question or what ever u wanna call it, was why?? why should he put the flag inside? Just because its dark. I asked him. he said, its a rule. there are some special occassions when u can let it sway after dark.

I dont agree. Somehow its not acceptable to me, even if its a rule, or like my other friend said, a flag protocol. The auto guy, Pasha, was celebrating his country's independence day, doesnt he even have the freedom to let the flag sway till whenever he wants it to?

What freedom are we talking abt? Is it only for the armed forces and the politicians, the right to hoist the flag? Is it only on special occassions?

If the announcement of freedom was made at midnight, the flag would have been hoisted then, midnight is not sunshine in full bloom! now this is a special occassion..hmmm

My question is why not? why cant I hoist the flag and keep it till day break? maybe this is how i celebrate my independence day...

I, a civilian and the citizen of this country want to hoist the flag, a flag that is the symbol of my country and its independence, its identity, a flag that came to 'light' after 200 dark years of slavery, of inhumanness, of being the so called white-man's burden...

Do I have it in me?

I would say Chak de India!

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Some Random Crap 2

Back to blogging. Back to crapping, and lots more. So much has happened, hard for the mind to comprehend, harder for the heart to ignore. Not in any order, this is obviously random....

I was talking to one of my childhood friends and we were discussing something that both of us severely lack, weight.. He was telling me abt BMI thats body mass index, by the way, and he concluded that I am a stick, like I dint know!

So we have our first woman president, hmmm, some say give her a chance others say, who the hell is pratibha patil, never heard of her! I was one of the latter. Dr. Kalam is someone I respect, admire, adore, there could have been no replacement. He had a foresight, an eye on the future. He sincerely believed in nation building, in the Ramnath Goenka Debate, aired on NDTV and CNN IBN, he said journalists should focus on nation buliding which is equal to A+B+C. A is increase GDP growth, B 60% below poverty line, improve their condition and C restore belief in the value system. Love the man, I still refuse to accept Ms Patil as President. Thats not gonna change anything, anyway!

Watched Phir Milenge and Morning Raaga, yes I hadnt seen either, damn I feel so old, havent watched many movies. Both are brilliantly directed and superbly acted, Shilpa Shetty and Shabana Azmi were outstanding. At one point, Abhishek Bachchan who plays the I-want-to-help-people lawyer, is in a quandry, searching for reasons why he wanted to become a lawyer, he goes on to say that he lost his primary aim earning money, as good and as much as it came. I can relate with that, I shall not elaborate...

I am also watching a whole lot of not-so-real(ity) shows, all of them suck beyond everything. They are simply playing with emotions, they seem to follow a mantra that says 'More tears for more TRP!' If tears dont do the needful, then its definitely war of the judges and brilliant editing that makes the 'sincere and dedicated' viewer sit a mile from the remote. I can write a thesis on this...some other time, maybe. What exactly are we doing for indian idles? The unemployed lot? are we voting sincerely enough or do we plan to lose it all to the Indian Idol?

Sanjay Dutt finally got his sentence, and the world went berserk. Usko ek sentence mili, logo ne to panne bhar diye, an argument says he was in his best conduct and attended court even when he was sandwiched between tight shooting schedules... Isnt he supposed to do it anyway? Six years is a long time, maybe, maybe not. Does he deserve it, I am no one to say that.. Just as I am no one to select my president.

Well, all through all this, just some time back, Sania beat Hingis! Finally did it, I am glad, actually I am mightily happy, and then I was triply happy when we beat England, it always gives me a high to beat english in their own backyard, that too convincingly..Sreesanth's wary aggression caused him an oust from the team, but then he was too wayward and his beamer was just uncalled for.

Will we ever seal the deal? This stupid nuke-deal seems to have taken longer than the '93 bomb blast verdict. screw them...duniya tarakki kar raha hai, hum 1,2,3 pe attak jayenge! thu..The americans are a bunch of idiots, like one of my close friends wrote in one of his very first articles, Indians, simpletons, fools?

ah and friendship day came and went I dint even realise, except for that one phone call from the Big Ben! ;) And a thoughful card from someone who 'me thinks' ;)

On that note, this hardly-working woman, stops the crap flow, pardon the randomness of it all...

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Rendezvous with Salman Khan

Just last week, I indulged in something I find extremely boring and a sheer waste of time and money. Shopping! Now, that I am employed, I need to get a nice wardrobe, so says amma...I cant go like just some girl who cares a damn about what she is wearing...Like they are paying me for what I am wearing...

Shopping on commercial street on any street for that matter is more difficult than rocket science. I am dying of hunger, while amma shops for me, suit material...When hunger is coupled with boredom and that too me being the victim, its a pretty sad state of affairs. I begin to show extreme disinterest in all those mannequins, all bald and beautifully dressed.

My eyes spot an american corn seller, I tell ma, I will be back in a while, she has this 'where to' expression on her face and I say "pasikaradu" (meaning, am hungry) she says fine lets go.
Lets go?? I thought I was hungry. Never mind...

So then, we buy corn. She sweeps the cup clean, faster than a tendulkar (ok sad pun on sweep), as I struggle with the spoon which is smaller than a key hole. I sit on the side walk, opposite the Favourite shop (50% off, hurry) amma reads the last word and rushes in...

I make myself comfortable on the side walk, which is already occupied. And then I spot him..
Clad in a pink banian and faded jeans, he sat in style, like he always does...
oh oh jaane jaana playing in my head, I offer him the residue of my corn, he replies in Tamil
"Neengal sapudunga" (you eat)

MT: Tamil epudi teriyum? (how do u know tamil)
SK: Learnt it, worked in several places, I am a fast learner.
MT: Oh cool! So then you must have understood everything I spoke to ma.
SK: Definitely! I dint show it, I am a silent observer, and a good actor.
MT: oh of course.
SK: Where are you from?
MT: I am from Delhi. ( safest bet)
SK: Oh I have been to delhi, Its a beautiful place.
MT: yes yes. ( I was already impressed)
SK: I think you should go now, your mom is already inside.
MT: Thats ok. Anyway she wouldn want someone who doesn offer any help with either the clothes or the cash. what brings you here?
SK: I came with a friend, he is just taking a round, will be here any minute.
MT: Oh cool! I wanna meet him.
SK: Iam not sure if u will like him.
MT: Why not?
SK: Lets see...

Time out... Friend doesnt appear on the scene and I realise its time that I went into the not-so-favourite-shop.

SK suddenly jumps, "Ah there he is"... I have this notion of some tall guy, with long hair, I witness, a man, well over twenty, using his legs for his hands... Begging...

The person I was talking to was in no way ordinary. He had accompolished a lot, his eyes showed a rare determination, a zest and the immediate need to set things right. I was in awe.
Still am.

I asked him out of curiosity: what is your name?

"Salman Khan" he said.
I have never seen a more confident smile.

" Not the actor" he added, as an after-thought.

I smiled. wished him luck. " Thanks Akka"

Took his friend and walked away to an uncertain future.

While I stood there, telling myself, shopping is not such a bad deal after all!

Oh Oh jaane jana......

Monday, July 02, 2007

Some Random Crap

Crap can mean a lot of things. It can mean crap as in literally crap or crap as in anything that one feels is crap-like! Definitely not making sense. But that what this post is about...
Some random crap...


2 months in Delhi. UNI in this not-so-beautiful-world. Life felt like it was never like that!
I just wanted it to get over cos what UNI gives you besides tasty subsidised halwa, is a world of disguised unemployment leading to frustration and dehydration due to delhi heat.


Back to bangalore. College beckons. People all seem new and different. Getting back to books, back to student mode, after a stint as an employee of a 'prestigious' organisation was more difficult than I thought. Friends or rather a friend made all the difference. Thanks. had you not been there I would have broken down.


Exams done away with. College over. MT post graduate... Still not all that wiser though. Just another degree old.. Its getting hot in here! ;)
Convocation day, came and went... No invocation song, inspite of hours of practise...The MC forgot!


People packed their bags. Left for their respective places in search of livelihood. Pardon the exaggeration. The residue is here, waiting...


Rona dhona over. Painful journey to the station to send off people every second day, over. Paying fine for no platform ticket, arguing with the personnel at the station, over. Roll no 16 expressing his emotions for the first time on platform 1, over. MT crying as Sri Sri kids leave, over. Over and out.


Searching for a job. Dropping resumes all over the city. Waiting for interview calls. everything seems like a movie. So surreal but THE reality. Unemployment sucks but giving interviews is so exciting.. I wish I could do that for life!! Running your fingers across classifieds, keyword-journalists wanted (really makes you feel so wanted, atleast by someone ;) )


Mumbai flooded, Sahib singh verma dead, Pratibha Patil for president, Infosys to take over capgemini, Little master on 15,000, Bachchan and Barabanki, Brown britain PM, Rice says NAM is crap...


Appa still smokes


No movies watched yet


A birthday came and went. I did not wish, deliberately. I still care I always will. No matter what I say. I still care.


No headphones yet. No calls. No mails. No messages.

Just some random crap.............


Friday, June 08, 2007

Me Thinks Me Weird!

Rules are:
* Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

* People who are tagged need to write posts in their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

* At the end of your post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

This is something I would have done anyway... But now this becomes important as I had been tagged by none other than someone who won the 'Thinking Blogger Award'...

1. I hate the rain. It depresses me.

2. I dont know how to start a conversation with girls, I feel extremely awkward. Iam more than comfortable with the guys, unfortunately for them.

3. Writing gives me a high..its so intoxicating that I can do it all my life. Iam addicted to it.

4. Iam in love with Amitabh Bachchan and I strongly believe I was related to him romantically ;) in the previous birth.

5. I like pain, physical pain. I think it gives me endurance. It makes me stronger, it tests my limits.

6. I have weird mood swings. I might be extremely happy, enthusiastic, on top of the world and then miserable, angry, upset, depressed, irritated the next minute.

7. I think I have a learning disorder, Iam technologically challenged.

8. I wish I was a guy.

I tag:

Nothin Within




Chicane Cruiser


Mad Angel

cant think of more people...

Thursday, May 31, 2007

Just 8 cms Away......

What did the tall chimney tell the small chimney?

" You are too young to smoke"

Not a milllion dollar question, not a wisecrack, just an old joke. But why now? why today???

Today is a special day...two reasons:
Today is one of my closest friend's birthday..Happy Birthday Cosmos...

The second reason is something I have been toying with. I dont know if this is the appropriate place, all I know is that this is the most appropriate time..

Cigarrette smoking is injurious to health, words marked in red. The one who sells cant read, the one who can read, chooses not to. I shall not go into its ill-effects, not because its oft-repeated but because that is not my objective here.

It causes Cancer, infertility, leukemia and several other life threatening complications, but who cares? thats not the objective, like I said. Thats all just in the books or on TV where the style statement on 70mm, turns into a public service message. But again who cares?

I do. I am a self-confessed passive smoker. I have a chimney at home.
The chimney for smoke uses an 8 cm long nicotine filled stick-like object, which needs a matchstick or the more sophisticated, lighter to burn. This results in a sensation that gives you a high and for those like me, gives a rock bottom all-time low.

It burns the lungs, takes the life outta you and they call it 'stress-buster'..
Even I can smoke if I want to, but unlike those who do, I have this very irresistable urge to live.
Smoking, I guess wont give me that high!

They say there are ways to control it. Hong Kong has recently developed an e-cigarette. Then there is hypnosis and then there are several other alternatives. But the point is, unless one wants to leave it for good, he/she wouldn take any of these steps. Saif ALi Khan complained of chest pain and was admitted to the hospital recently. The reason: excessive smoking. Are you waiting for that warning? Oh but again, thats not the objective.

Appa, this is the last time. I want you to be there to see your grand-children grow. Thats a very dramatic dialogue, but if this doesn't work, nothing would. I know how much a goldflake, or kings as you so very lovingly call it, costs. No. Not 30 bucks. It costs life. Is it worth it?

Is that 8 cm long piece of lifeless crap more precious?

The choice is still yours, we are still at a distance.... just 8 cms away...

Bridge the gap... just 8 cms away...

This is an appeal, if this doesnt work...nothing would....
Nothing ever would....

Just 8 cms away....Appa...

Happy No Tobacco Day....

Sunday, May 20, 2007

The IS and the WAS

Its been a really long time since I posted. No net connection and the most limited access to the web world will have to take the blame.

I am in the city I was born in, therefore it would be right to say that it holds a lot of memories of my childhood ranging from amazing to awful. But the point is, I am back to where I thought I belonged. Maybe, maybe not.

Six years and so much has changed. The roads are brilliant, flyovers have made distances seem near negligible. CNG vehicles have reduced pollution considerably. Incessant honking, unnecessary howling has been almost done away with, almost. It exists, here and there. Malls and some more malls now 'aaram se' sit pretty on those encroached government paths that came under the sealing drive. All of that is legal, by the way. Traffic police have more power than the Prime Minister and rightly so, you dont wear a helmet, pay 600 bucks fine, your pillion without a helmet pay some more! Now, drunk driving, talking on the phone and smoking while driving all amount to fines and a better half of your life chakki peesing. not so 'fine'!!

So much and some more. Auto guys are second only to the underworld, they wont come where you wanna go, their rates are so exhorbitant that even Chidambaram would agree with their inflation excuse! "madam mehangaayi itni badh gayi hai, bachchon ko kya khilayenge?" But they are the best source for info and have an opinion about everything. "Ab to Mayawati aa gayin na, dekhna sonia nahi tikegi, ye sab badal jaayega." I smile and he nods in acknowledgement, we communicate through the rear view mirror. Buses are fun, people sleep and continue sleeping even if the bus bumps over the speed breaker several times over, I am amazed at their impeccable balance. Metro !!! Simply rocks, the system is so user friendly that any idiot like me can travel without any hassles. well maintained and absolutely spotless..

So much has not. Shopkeepers are still open to bargaining, " Bhaiya kya yaar, hum phir aayenge na, dene ka daam bolo," he will make a face and then say with utmost respect "le jaiye madam, ab bhi kya yaad rakhengi" ...
I still hate to shop. Palika bazar and janpath invite those who love to empty their pockets to the temptations of every day life at a much cheaper price. Rightly so.

People are the same, the warmth exists, the " haan jis and namaste ji's " "kya haal hai?" " aaj to tum chaa gaye!", People you have met just yesterday, remember your name and if they cant, the guilt and disappointment is more than obvious on their sweating faces. Beat the heat, how, nobody has figured out yet. Life still goes on, come wind, rain or hailstorm.


There is always a 'but'. Delhi is not home, Delhi is not where i see myself settling down (actually i dont see myself 'settling down' at all!) , Delhi was once the place i always wanted to be, Delhi was once my home. Period.

Bangalore with all its traffic jams, lazy people, slower than a snail life, is where I belong... Bangalore with all its inadequacies, Bangalore with christ college, Bangalore with Sri Sri, Bangalore with so much and not so much.
Bangalore is home....

Delhi WAS.

Bangalore IS.

And there lies the difference....

Thursday, May 10, 2007


It happened then,
without a warning
all of a sudden
out of the blue

When things hit you,
asking for evidence
of your existence

Claustrophobic this
very being,
inside me, deep within
scars piled up,
scathing, unseeing

Who would want to know?
Who would want to know?
This breaking news?
Any takers??

No sunshine
No drops of dew
A crack enveloped
in the fourth chamber

Complicated, Confused
wanting to reveal
the purpose of survival
in every new reel

who would want to know?
who would want to know?
This breaking news?
Any takers??

Any takers??

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Pappu Pass Ho Gaya!

Black Board in class 4 A reads

: Write an essay on "My ambition In life"

With a pen in my hand and another hand scratching my head, I think about what this word can possibly mean.. Hmmm.. ambition I thought was something that you want to do, some vocation that you want to take up that would give you immense pleasure.

I wrote "I want to be a bus conductor. He is the most powerful person because when he taps on the door, the bus stops, when he whistles, girls dont feel bad and boys obey." Blame it on the innocence of that age.

Class 5 A
Black Board reads same as above. (The education system lacks innovation)

I wrote " I want to be a washerman (dhobi, well I was never gender specific). I like riding on cycles and he is one guy I always see with one. Even milkmen carry milk on their cycles but then who will get up so early in the morning?"

Class 6 A
Essays stopped. I continued writing though. I wanted to be an athelete. Win the olympics, bring back gold medals for my country. I ran and ran for years...But then had to stop. Reluctantly I did stop, the feet did, that is. The pen did not.

Classes came and went. What I wanted to become, what I wanted to achieve, changed almost every year. I was so lost that I dint know where I was going! ( thats what lost means, actually!)
Then I wanted to join the army, there are things that always remain a distant dream.. I guess I dont have it in me!

All through ''MeinKampf" my pen stood the test of time...I know way to textbookie this line, nevertheless, I shall use it.
I wanted this, I wanted that. Ambition then became as small as just being able to cross the road, tell a friend Iam sorry, tell someone that I love them, remember the names of newly elected ministers, newly etched out states in my country's map, finish an assignment, bring out lab journal before deadline, find time to miss people and tell them that I miss them.

Ambition meant fighting with my brother for the remote, winning it without getting hurt!
It meant writing a headline for a story which made no sense
Writing a story, rewriting the same story
attempting exams
And much more....

It was always about reaching and reaching out
It was always about getting there
It was always about beginning something

It was always about screwing up an interview by saying " I have a father, a mother and a brother!" (like the rest of the population has multiple parents!)

It was always about getting away with it...
Abhi to bus trailer nikali hai, picture to ab bhi baaki hai...
Pappu Pass Ho Gaya!

Wednesday, March 07, 2007


The feeling, the need, the touch
of triumph, of glory, of achievement,
of fate.

Of belief, of certainity, of faith, of destiny
of modesty, of grace
of immortality, of imagination,
of folly, of fault, of reason.

Of the flowers, the wind, the rain,
of the sun, the sea, the seasons
Of time, of money, of power
of passion, of lust, of love.
of miles and miles of nothingness.

Of living, of life, of death.
of the frailities of mankind
of the tryst in the body, the soul and the mind.

Of logic, of emotion
of the void within
of the vaccum without
of the dreams that did not see the light of the day
of reality that seems so far away.

Of all that could have been
of all that actually is
of me, of myself, of the alter ego.

Of the illusion I refuse to see
Of the illusion that is me.

PS. Penned at a boring Press conference

Monday, February 12, 2007

To Sir, With Love

Selection for sports meet..

Represent house on Sports Day
Scorching heat on a summer morning, MT and kids from other classes line up...

"7th B-MT?"

MT steps forward-
DK sir-" Too short, you wont be visible if you carry the flag, ye to dikhegi hi nahi, Negi sir, kya karein?"

Negi Sir- "Nikaal do, next"

Trials morning
MT stands watching the proceedings...a not-so-silent-spectator..

Negi sir- "7th B?"
MT- "yes sir"
NS- "class monitor?"
MT-"yes sir"
NS- "unko aur koi nahi mila kya?"
MT-"no sir"
NS-"Bhaagna hai tumko?"
MT-"yes sir"
NS-" tum yes sir aur no sir ke alava kuch bolti ho?"
MT-"yes sir"
NS-" sports room se whistle leke aao, I will time you, 40 secs..."
MT-"yes sir"

MT never wears a watch, time is never in her nobody's hands, for that matter..
returns after 45 secs...

NS-"5 second late, hmmm, kya kare tumhare saath?"
MT-" Sir aapki whistle kho gayi thi, dustbin ke paas padi thi"
NS-"no excuses"
MT-"Yes sir"

Awkward silence follows as Sir plays with the idea of including MT in the relay team, hurdles team and 200 mtrs....

MT-"sir aur kuch lana hai sports room se?"
NS-"nahi, DK sir se poocho flag kahan hai"
MT-"sir sports room mein table pe pada hai, lekar aau, is baar 40 secs...

MT runs, returns with flag in hand, dot 40 secs....

NS-"good, hurdles kiya hai kabhi?"
MT-"No sir"
MT-"Seekh lungi sir, flag uthane dijiye"
NS-"tum abhi aur kya uthakar laayi thi?"
MT smiles...does a triumphant dance on her way back to class...

Sports Day
Prahalad House
March Past...flag in hand, following Amit Bhaiya, Head boy and MT's mentor...
"eyes right...... left, right, left...."

Prahalad house loses to Eklavya....

200 mtrs
On your mark, get set, whistle....

MT runs....runs, runs, still running...
Shravan house wins
Eklavya house wins
MT comes Third...


DK sir: "kaha tha na negi, isko kyun liya? she was reperesenting the house, mazaak nahi hai.."
NS-"Hurdles baaki hai, abhi bachche ko kuch mat bolo.."
DK-Nods in disagreement.." is baar bhi hum eklavya se haar jaayenge, itni choti si hai, khudegi kaise, phas jaayegi.."
NS-"dekhte hai"
NS to MT
"Tumko pata hai kya karna hai? DK doesnt like you much and you know that, all the best"
MT-extremely short of confidence, guilty of letting house down, walks towards the start line, takes stance, waits for the whistle that would decide her journey through hurdles.....

"On your mark, get set, whistle"

MT runs........First hurdle- success,position third

Second hurdle- success, position third

Third hurdle- lace open, falls, position negligible

removes shoe, runs like there is no tmrw...

Fourth hurdle- success, position second

finish line.............position one

MT falls, this time in happiness, in the joy of conquering the fourth hurdle...
Prahalad house beats Eklavya finally....

NS-"DK sir doesnt like you at all...."
MT-"Thank you sir"

Today is Negi Sir's birthday....

Moral of the story..."It doesn matter how many times you fell, what matters is how many times you got up"

Thank You Sir....

Abhi bachche ko kuch mat bolo....

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Rain Rain Go Away...

pitter patter, pitter patter
...drops fall on the ground...
...fragrance of wet earth fillling your lungs!
you feel like you just refreshed a page that cannot be displayed..(kill joy, thats me)
AHA! experience in other words....

you feel a sense of freedom, you feel like lifting your arms up, wide open....Liberation
you wanna fly, with no care in the world...
for, its raining...

I remember, when I was in school, kids used to love the rain cos that would mean, wet ground and no assembly, no monitoring, no long speech, no punishment...

I remember, when I used to return from school, kids used to love getting wet..soaked from head to toe...wet uniform, will catch cold so school ki chutti....far fetched, but hope is a free entity..

I remember, rain always brought with it truck loads of excitement...people rush to their balconies, windows, doors just to get a glimpse of how cluttered drops of water, flushed from above somewhere, look...

Sky spitting like there is no tmrw.....

I remember, in college, the first time we had a rained
we got acquainted in the midst of an unknown, uninterested crowd, showers our only other listener....

Parted rained...friends used to tell me 'see, even God is crying!'
Football rained...
Final Farewell...last rained....

It poured everytime I wanted to play, everytime I wanted to go out,everytime i wanted to eat ice cream, everytime I wanted to meet someone, everytime I.... everytime I just wanted to be me....

I never liked the means nothing to life stops for those few seconds, minutes, hours....



Drops of water create slush,muddy-muddy, dirty dirty....
Watching the rain depresses me.....
Talking abt it upsets me...
It bounds me...liberation ends....


I have no idea...

Rain Rain Go Away
come again another day
Little 'me' want to play

Rain Rain Go Away....

This post has been written and deleted several times....

The Rain never goes streets are flooded......STILL

Rain Rain Go Away..

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Saleem aur Anarkali....A Sad Attempt...

Saleem: aapki razza kya hai mohtarma?
aapki khidmad me haazir
hain hum
Anarkali:aap hamari khidmad me kuchh shaayari pesh keejiye...

Saleem: Shaayari ki baat na kar ai husn ki begairat adaa waali
tere husn ki jhalak ne ek vaar kiya is aashiq par
ki mujrim karaar kar diya duniya ne.
Anarkali: agar hum laila hote aur aap majnu
to aapka ye kalaam sunkar hum bahut pahle hi
so gaye hote.
achchha hua galib pahle hi khuda ki mehfil ko rawaana ho gaye

Saleem: iis kadar beinteha nafrat kyon hai?
dard to hume pata nahin chalta aur mehsoos sirf aapki judayi hoti hai lekin
dard to mera ek ehsaas hai
Anarkali: wah wah!!!

Salim: Saza manzoor hai mujhe par itni nafrat kyon?
Anarkali: aapse koi nafrat kare bhi to kaise, koshish to bahut kee
par nafrat hume hi ho gayi khud se

Saleem: oh kya kahna mere mahboob ka,
nafrat to ek nagma hai jo aapke
ashkon pe saja hai.
Anarkali: vo aapke liye nahi hai
us nafrat ke haqdaar to vo the jo hume chod ke chale gaye
ab unse bhi kya nafrat karna jo is kabil bhi nahi.
waise aapke liye to jaan hazir hai ek bar
aazma kar to dekhiye.

Saleem: aapki jaan ko to hum kabhi nahin aazmayenge
har ek saans me ek ajab si masti hai jo jeete hue hi parakh lenge hum
wo kaam hum par chhod deejiye
Anarkali: tum par to humne sab kuchh hi chhod diya hai
ab hamare paas kuchh nahi hai.

Saleem: are ek mouka to do mujhe.
Anarkali: Mauka dene vaale hum kaun hote hai
mauke to hume dekh kar log lete hai...

Ab aage hum likhe bhi to kya likhe...
hamare paas to alfaaz hi itne kam hai..
jitna zindagi ke paas hamare liye waqt kam hai..

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this post are fictional. Any resemblance with any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a sad attempt by two jobless people. Names will not be disclosed for security reasons.

Caution: Joblessness can be dangerous.

Friday, January 26, 2007

End Of Scene # 5

Location:Richa's bed
Namoone: Pink, Devi, MT
The room is filled with notes, bits of paper scattered all over... bits of what has been said in class written on the edges of the freshly touched paper...
Scene #1 ( never mind the act, we are always in nautanki mode)
Time: 12:00 am

MT: nazism in germany blah blah blah...
Pink: whats a concentration camp?
MT: Jews, gas, naked, 6 million exterminated
Pink: (Eyes wide open almost touching the floor) Shit! how could he?
Devi: Thats what happened. But why are we talking abt Hitler now?

MT: you should read Diary of Anne Frank...
Devi:yes yes. I want a copy of that one. By the way, have you finished UAE?
Pink: Mujhe to neend aa rahi hai yaar, chaar baje uthke padhai karein?
MT, Devi: (mumble, like thats gonna happen) Nahi..

Scene #2
Time: 12:45
Namoone talk abt the status of women in UAE and the flexi time facilities that they get, maternity leave and the fact that the country is prosperous because of its natural wealth...
Read read and read. Mutual agreement to close UAE and get on with the family life in USA...

Pink: kya bakwaas hai? Divorce rates are so high, there is more remarriage than marriage.
MT: Yeah. The basis of their relationship is love you see, and they dont need consent of their parents or relatives to get into matrimony...
Devi: Single parent is the order of the day. The kids there are 4 times more detached from both their parents than in India...
Pink: (Reads ) Children move out at the age of 18, till then they are supported by their parents..hey thats why they are so independent...
MT: and also stressed out...
Devi: Yaar tumne modernization kiya?
MT: Kuch bhi nahi kiya. Kal bhi vaat lagegi sabki...I think we should just do traits of a modern person...

Scene # 3
Time: 1:30
Devi is dozing. Richa wants to sleep. MT and Pink vacate bed. Shift to MT's room, umm drawing room..hall..whatever you wanna call it..
Pink: yaar ab to bahut raat ho gayi..
MT: Kahan yaar, abhi to din shuru hua hai...
Pink glares at MT, latter gets the shut-up-or-i-will-hit-you-signal, takes out notes that say "Confrontation with Pakistan"....

MT: I think both India and Pak are to blame, India is too proud of hinduism as a way of life- brahmin blah blah, Pak wants all muslim majority areas, we give kashmir they ask for assam, we give Assam, they will ask for hyderabad...Completion of pakistan is a farce, its not possible...But I feel, the reason why the firangs came here was primarily because of the wealth we had, spices etc included... We were too engulfed in vanity, that we lost track of what was happening around the world...apne pair pe kulhadi marna types...
Pink: (sleep does the vanishing act) No. I dont agree. The state of muslims in Pakistan is much worse than that of Indian muslims.... yahan pe vo kaunse aabad hai?
Pink: jaaye kya?

Scene # 4
MT: Reads- A modern person should accept change, should have traits of self-efficacy, yawn...
MT: Sets alarm. Nahi uthungi main..I know..
Pink:Main hoon na..don worry I will wake you up...Pukka

Scene # 5
Time: 2:30
Pink runs off like a small kid who has just finished her homework..
while MT ponders....

Clothes lying in the bathroom, dirty linen, needs a wash

India won the second one-dayer (MT smiles)

Need to finish corruption , 10 marks

India-pak confrontation, 10 marks

Alumni day after, no, not day after, tomorrow...

That would be 26th Jan. '07


India ponders...

Dirty linen needs a wash

Need to finish corruption, sounds like an out of syllabus question?

India-Pak confrontation, a question mark in itself...

Alumni today- Names decorated on India Gate...

Amar Jawan Jyoti...salute...

Tujhe hai pukara......

26th Jan. '07

End Of scene # 5

Thursday, January 18, 2007

The Cockroach Saga

When God created man...
everything was still heaven.....
Inspite of the introduction of Man...

the advent of the insects....
Cockroaches came, saw, conquered
and all hell broke loose....

The problem is not with their existance, it is with infringment. I have butcherd many, beaten them to pulp. Literally took the life outta them, but they refuse to leave. They have taken a liking to the vicinity that I understand as mine.

The other day, a couple of cockroaches trespassed into the media lab, I mean what guts! Entering the very same area that the rest of the world detests....
Ree screams at the top of her lungs, 'Yuck!' mumm mumm mumm... thats how she blabbers at times...
"Sadie cockroach!" I was like, what?! I was stick insect first and now Iam cockroach, as I rehearsed which gaali to use, she exclaimed, "cockroach hai yahan pe!!"

Then began the hunt. I got ready for the kill.

Step one: Search for chappal, bathroom slippers nahi chalega...
Proper chappals so that the insides of the insect do not spoil the newly acquired 100 buck footwear. It is always good to carry your weapon...cos some of them fly, cockroaches I mean..
Sadly no one has invented a weapon to kill them, HIT kills you more than the cockroach and then you feel you might as well let it live...

Step two: Brooms are of good use, to beat anyone for that matter..But this step is to first search for the 'roach (cocky doesn sound good so...) every possible place, under the table, behind curtains..they love corners but are very restless, keep running back and forth, run behind them.
If they go into those godforsaken nooks and corners, follow them. Remember, that thing is your aim. Its hit and win!

Step three: Dont give up. You will always have other ppl around you, active audience in terms of " abey vahan hai, idhar hai.. kya kar rahi ha yaar, dekh bhaag gaya phir se..saala" ('roaches are always addressed with the male norms of name calling, hmmm..)
Dont lose focus..

Step four: Now that you have wasted too much time, catch the damn thing! Hit ones, it will look at you, with an extremely boring expression and say

'roach- "Dude Wassup?"
Me- "Bloody thats exactly where Iam gonna send you, up!"

'roach- " heheheehe" (runs)
Me- bloody!

'roach- "catch me if you can!"
Me- phat! phat! phat! catch me if you can, it seems! phew..

'roach-wriggles, stirs, antennae squashed, eyes displaced..
but smirk intact..

'roach-no movement, dead and gone...RIP


Step five: look for accomplices...they never attack alone..
If you find some more...repeat step 1 to 5..

Step six: throw the crap in the dustbin, use paper....give it a 'whatever' look

Step seven: Let the victory sink in, rejoice! ;)

Well, now that I have provided you with a comprehensive guide 'to kill a mocking cockroach', I hope my services would not be required anymore, right Ms Ree?
You did a pretty good job in the morning, I heard...

I hope next time "Cockroach!! Where is Sadie??" will not be uttered in the same breath....

Pest control Dept.

Coming of Age

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