Random thoughts

Destiny's child

2009-01-11T08:29:00.000-08:00

Toonta toonta ek parinda aise toonta, ki phir ud na paya.

Loonta, loonta kisne usko aise loonta, ki phir jud na paya.

Girta hua woh aasman se aakar gira zameen par,

Khwabon mein phir bhi baadal hi the, woh kehta raha magar,

Ke “Allah ke bande hasde, Allah ke bande,

Allah ke bande hasde, jo bhi ho kal phir aayega.”

Every once in a while, there comes a story that touches a raw cord deep within you and moves and uplifts you. When I watched Slumdog Millionaire, what I expected was a rags-to-riches success story, peppered with colourful anecdotes of the lead character’s life. What I didn’t expect, was an anything-for-love storyline. I was briefly disappointed initially, only because the theme has been explored ad naseum.

Soon enough, I was deeply engrossed in a kaleidoscope of Bombay’s slums, the underworld, street life and a chaiwala’s singular dream. Cheesy and presumably predictable though it may seem, the saga of a lost love is timeless. Drawing on this theme, Slumdog Millionaire is fresh, uniquely earnest and hopeful, raw and ruthlessly honest in its portrayal of Bombay’s slums. The drama is inherent. And I’m guessing the Hindu-Muslim connection is not purely coincidental. In any case, it is hardly the crux of the tale. Technically too, the film scores. I love how the past and the present alternate seamlessly, woven deftly into the fabric of the story. The background scores, composed by A.R. Rehman will be downloaded shortly, it is brilliant stuff.

The lead character is a young boy from the slums, who has very little to begin with and every time he comes within reach of one thing that gave meaning and purpose to his life, he loses it all over again. Perhaps borne of his unique circumstances, his integrity and resolute determination, even in his turbulent childhood, astonishes. His changeless, unwavering commitment to a vision in his mind, his unflinching pursuit (of happiness), turns into his destiny.

Perhaps that is how it was written.

Rajasthan

2007-11-26T19:17:00.000-08:00

A recent trip to the picturesque and tourist-uberfriendly state of Rajasthan has me convinced the Rajasthan has me convinced that everybody is involved in a robust love affair. Very openly too. A love affair with ... colour. In blatant defiance of the dust-coloured, parched landscape of their motherland, they've painted one town pink and another blue. The Rajasthanis themselves are a colourful lot- attired in the most cheerful and brightest of hues. Swathed in red, magenta (among some twenty other colours) and bandhanis and shimmering with mirrors and a ton of silver jewellery, the women paint a merry picture indeed. The men are just two steps behind in the jewellery department.For the men the multi-hued turban and their perfectly groomed moustaches is their style statement. The turban is more than just a style statement though, different styles of wearing indicate class, profession and geography. Even the camels are well-turned out. Patterns adorn their faces, beads and tassles grace their necks and the seating on the camel's back is a mass of patterned fabric and mirrors. It's like the Rajasthanis have taken a serious offence to dry, lifeless landscape and have made sure that everything they make (food, jewellery,clothing, music and dance) is in every colour possible like defiant little children. The clash of colours against the dusty backdrop of the desert, the lilting notes of the sarangi and some robust folksy singing make Rajasthan postcard-photo material. The land of contrasts - scorching days and chilly nights, monotonous landscape and colourful people, inhospitable terrain and the most hospitable people in the world. Yes, I went back to my roots : ). And loved it there.

Back

2007-11-26T19:07:00.000-08:00

It's been a long, long hiatus from the blogging world. The break's been a bit too long, honestly. Months and months. It's been sheer laziness but now I have a new motivation to start blogging again, among other reasons. And now that I'm back, I realise that I really did miss blogging, and checking out the comments I got and reading other people's blogs. It's time for me to start from scratch. It would help if i got a little readership from you netizens out there though.

Murphy's laws

2006-09-02T23:59:00.000-07:00

There are some days when it rains like the world's coming to an end, yet professor's merrily waltz into class, untouched and unscathed. You're soaked to the bone, clearly surviving on that one feeble hope that classes will be cancelled-after all the city's flooded. But classes stretch an hour or two longer than usual. You enter your room in a particularly vile mood to see that your roommate's entire wardrobe's on the floor, beds, everywhere. Arrrrgggh. To add to that , the shittiest, most inedible blobs are being served at the mess. Oh and you're broke, their's no one to hear you crib 'cause the cell's out of balance, so you're left to wallow in your misery. You look into the mirror, try to smile at yourself and notice that you're having a particularly bad hair day.
Gosh, it seriously seems like the entire universe is deviously conspiring against you. Nothing's going right, and everything's a mess. And they seem to be getting worse. You couldn't feel more off colour. Time to tune into some Murphy's laws. They promise to offer you some Karmic relief at best, or atleast a few wry laughs. Here's an assortment:

If anything can go wrong, it will.
Smile .....tomorrow will be worse.
If you're feeling good, don't worry you'll get over it.
If an experiment works, something has gone wrong.
A patent application will be preceded by one week by a similar application by an independent worker.
Variables won't, constants aren't.
The probability of a young man meeting a desirable, receptive young female increases when he is already in the company of : a date/ his wife/ a better looking and richer male friend.
Beauty multiplied by brains= constant.
If in the course of several months, only 3 worthwhile social events take place, they will all fall on the same day.
Anything labelled new/ improved isn't.
Multi-function gadgets won't perform any function adequately.
How long a minute is depends on which side of the bathroom door you're on.
Archimedes' principle: When a body is immersed in water, the phone rings.
The pimples don't appear until the hour before the date.
A clean tie attracts the soup of the day.
You never really learn to swear until you learn to drive.
Four wheel drive means getting stuck in more inaccessible places.
Wind velocity increases with the cost of the hairdo.
The overwhelming pre-requisite for the greatness of an artist is that artist's death.

Cheers!

Belief

2006-05-13T23:15:00.000-07:00

Various debates and posts(where I realised my comments were getting a tad too long) have prompted me to write a post on the topic of God and faith. Plus I've been nagged enough about updating my blog ; ).
We humans are second-handers by nature. Even an unflagging confidence or belief in yourself stems from encouragement, appreciation or atleast acknowlegdement from others. Hence the need to look to someone else when challenged by the unknown. This deep-seated and primal fear of the unexplored lead to the earliest tryst with with faith and God. What couldn't be explained was attributed to God.
This phenomenon has several names and explanations. Some call it God, some destiny, some call it an unknown primeval force, some nothing. For aeons God was a self-explanatory word and it is only in the recent centuries that people have been questioning this blind faith in God and have been trying to experiment with and analyse faith in God in order to understand it.
This faith exists, probably because it is unburdening and liberating. It's this belief that there is a saviour out there, an entity to transfer our worries and responsibilities to. Whether he exists or not is immaterial.
Consider a placebo. It is a harmless pill that in actuality does nothing. Except that it does mitigate the patient's anxiety about his health. Although the placebo has no effect whatsoever on the patient, he believes it does and that is the cure. The principle of God works in the same way( It is just an analogy and is not intended to hurt anyone's sentiments). He can be whatever you want Him to be. Maybe it's the extra-edge kick you got during some paper and you don't know where it sprouted from. Maybe it's your aunt's miraculous recovery from a terminal disease. It could be anything. Or nothing.

She

2006-04-12T10:36:00.000-07:00

A soft, cool breeze on a scorching day. A tempest. A blazing fire.
The dimple in your smile. Succour. An ice-cold shower.
A blanket that envelops you in it's warmth.
A fragile shard of glass. The band-aid for your broken heart.
The reason why your heart's broken in the first place.

There are many roles that a woman has to play. Effortlessly she morphs from one character to another. She's a bitch. She's your boss. She rocks your world. She's a mother. A sister, friend, sweetheart and wife. Elegance and grace personified. She can be a clumzy klutz too. She can wrap you around a her little finger, just as easily as she can show you the finger. Powerful, strong, wilful and vulnerable. The softest steel you could ever find.

But she's also an object. A toy. A prize catch. Even a trophy. Loot and treasure.
What is she really?

Being Indian

2006-03-05T06:39:00.000-08:00

I've never understood the saffron brigade's(Shiv Sena, VHP, etc.) intense insecurity about the so called invasion of the Western culture, their staunch opposition and violent opposition of Valentine's day celebrations and anything else that they deem 'western'. (Btw this curiously does not include the alleged paedophile Michael Jackson's music. Apparently Balasaheb is a fan). True, these corrupt bumbling idiots love trivialising or conveniently ignoring the bigger picture and love making mountains out of non-issues. But still, what were they thinking?
That jeans, heart-shaped cookies and English music can take the Indian out of us? Or that renaming every street and building in sight after Shivaji is suddenly going to make us feel more Indian. They've clearly misunderstood the youth of the nation.
Our Indianness is a nebulous feeling, that perhaps is the only mark of uniformity in the heterogeneous population of the country This feeling of belonging is intrinsic, it's been pre-wired into our systems and can't be influenced by any other. It flows in the blood of the stinking rich and the poverty-stricken, the NRI and the ueber-patriotic types. So why do these idiots worry so much about the erosion of our culture?
I'm kind of dissillusioned about the Indian culture, I'm not really sure what all it encompasses.( The word brings memories of Kathak recitals and classical music.) People keep telling you what it's not, so you're left to make what you want of it. Culture, just like mankind has evolved and keeps evolving. It's a process that's catalysed by change, foreign influences and choices. Although cultures have their own identities, in this shrinking world every culture inevitably borrows from others-its plain and simple evolution. Culture is being constantly remixed to suit the current generation, yet the old tune rings clear and strong. Old and forgotten traditions do have this uncanny ability to reincarnate every now and then.
We Indians are bound together as a community by a sublte, complex feeling of belonging, of being Indian. Some of us express it robustly at cricket matches, clad in blue and sporting the tricolour on our faces. Some of us acknowlegde the slumbering emotions stirring in our hearts when we watch a patriotic film. There are so many manifestations of this feeling. It's that smile(wry it may be, but it's a smile nevertheless) when you get off at the chaotic, maddening Sahar airport(oops it's Chhatrapati Shivaji airport isn't it? ) after a trip abroad. And the aroma of parched earth when the first raindrops soak it. Ghar ka khana and aam ka anchaar. Sequinned kurtis and kurtas worn over faded jeans. Annoying hip hop-Bhangra numbers in typical east-meets-west style that grow onto you.
So what if many of us are amalgams of Indo-western sensibities? Our Indianness is firmly entrenched in our body, mind and soul. It's timeless. And it's got absolutely nothing to do with the names of cities, whether Bangalore ought to be called Bangluroo or not. That's why I just don't get why Sena workers suffer mild cardiac arrests everytime we sip our Coke and bite into our pizzas. We're not forgetting anything. They should just give it a rest.

Terra Incognita

2006-02-15T00:40:00.000-08:00

A few weeks from now and I'll be twenty. Twentehhh! I'm going to be OLD. Yikes!!!(Ok time to cut the drama). So why is turning twenty such a milestone?
It means official(read: no looking back) entry into the world of adults. My hostel mates will no longer call me 'bachha', 'kiddo' or 'little one'. Or pinch my cheek about 50 times a day. (And believe me they get such a kick doing that). Don't think I'm going to miss that much, but it sure is nice to be pampered for a bit.
When I was much younger, I always believed that there was childhood and then you jumped straight to adulthood at twenty. I thought I'd know how to drive a car, cook everything possible and do several other things that I deemed 'adult'-at twenty, just like that. Like a snap of the fingers.(I was really really young back then). I never realised that one would have to traverse the tortuous realm of adolescence. Tricky years that make you who you are. Years that trigger a metamorphosis, hormonal surges, introspection and experimentation. Moments that hone you and sandpaper the rough edges. 16-19 especially was one memorable journey-one helluva topsy turvy rollercoaster ride.
These years have taught me several valuable lessons-like you've got to keep learning, it's a never-ending process and it's never going to be enough. That the only opinion that really really matters is my own, however humble and unrefined it may be. And time is paramount-each fleeting second is a priceless gift. We all know this
but do we conciously realise it-ever? And perhaps the hardest lesson of them all is learning to just let go sometimes-however unacceptable it may seem. It saps the energy from your very core, leaves you badly bruised even, but you just have to see that things can't always be the same. After all change is the only constant in life.
Twenty for me heralds the closing of chapter 1. Sure, I can go back to it, just like a favourite book, but just to re-read that beloved, intoxicating chapter. The next chapter has yet to begin. I think I'm in no-man's land right now. Sometimes we greet changes with hesitation, then one fine day you realise those very changes have become stale news, pedestrian. Turning twenty is not earth-shattering news. Not even miles close. But it does mean stepping out of some of my comfort zones. Which translates to apprehension and excitement and a hundred butterflies doing the tango in my belly! Its a heady cocktail, but alas! It's laced with nostalgia. Sigh. Guess it's time to kiss the growing up blues and the Peter Pan Syndrome goodbye. Sometime in the near future at the least.
Yeah, I'm going to cherish all the memories of the era gone by. They'll always play at the back of my mind. It's been a great year guys. Before I get more senti here, I'm going to sign off. God bless you all.

2006-02-10T05:50:00.000-08:00

Agony and ecstasy,
Shattering, consolidating,
Bliss and chaos,
Moving hurting.

Trust versus jealousy,
Inhibition, exhibition,
Bittersweet and tangy,
Sunshine and thunder.

Desperation, liberation,
Black, white even red,
Draining yet powerful,
Words said, moments shared.

Looks that say it all,
Sweet surrender in your arms,
Passion and oxygen,
Love is all that and more.

Mumbai is.......

2006-01-26T03:18:00.000-08:00

Been living in Mumbai for nearly 2 years. In upmarket, snooty South Mumbai by virtue of being a resident of the Sophia Polytech hostel. And i'm starting to understand, if not assimilate(just a lil') the city culture, far removed from our laidback Puneri culture. Bombay is B I G- it's population probably matches that of Australia, geographically it's just enormous, takes you ages to travel anywhere, and everything in Bombay takes place on a mega-scale. Being a true-blue Puneite, I can't conform to all that Mumbai stands for, but i've made peace with a city that i semi-loathed. And i enjoy the city now.

Mumbai to me(an average outstation student) is:

Walking side by side with a Gucci-clad, Louis Vuitton toting 'Townie'(South mumbaiite) and a eunuch wearing gajras, loud makeup and a torn sari can happen only here.
Getting squeezed to a pulp in a local train during rush hour. Its so crowded, people flood that tiny compartment, you'll have about 10 people per square foot, people of all shapes, sizes, backgrounds. A couple of ladies selling cheap, plastic earrings will add to the utter chaos. Get used to hanging perilously over the tracks, and elbowing your way out of the train if you have no access to a car.
The typical Mumbaiyya smell-a stench that pervades the city, reeking of leftovers, the sea, and a lot of unmentionable things.
Mumbaiyya Hindi with it's 'tereko-mereko, karneka, wat lagana' etc.
Hip and happening eateries like Waffles, Pizzeria, Relish, lounges like Lush, Bed Lounge(don't know a lot about the clubbing scene though i happen to know some of the good lounges)
That the college crowd will never be homogeneous. The divide between the rich and the poor, the middle class and the upper class is probably the sharpest in Bombay. My group of college friends comprise those who thrive on brands and designer labels-Levis, Catwalk, Victoria's Secret, Mango you name it and those who pick up tees off the road. And yet noone's felt the difference.
The Shiv Sena rules here. However the situation may be currently with Narayen Rane and Raj Thakeray, they have a claim on the hearts of thousands of Maharashtrians over here. In the cyber cafe that i frequent, the wall is adorned with a huge picture of Balasaheb
Rubbing shoulders with celebs like Rahul Bose and John Abraham is a no-affair for a even the most crazed fan 'coz it can happen pretty often.
The mega college fests- they totally live up to Bombay's standards of making entertainment larger than life. Mood Indigo is one example-they've got sponsorships worth 50 lakh or so. My own college's fest Kaleidoscope got Strings to perform last year and this year they plan to bring in Jal/Euphoria/Indian ocean. Entertainment-wise these fests score well, the literary events however get totally overshadowed a lot of the times.
It sure is a safe city for girls. I've seen chicks wearing incredibly short skirts(I'd rather not describe how short ; ) ), super low-cut blouses, and they can casually gallivant all around town without men gawking at them. Of course it does depend on the locality to some extent but overall it's quite alright to be out pretty late without having to depend on a male escort.
The city really never sleeps.

Reality is an illusion caused by alcohol deficiency

2006-01-15T06:26:00.000-08:00

...Lol I wish sometimes. This new year's, I had my first official drink(s)( sips don't count) and i did get high. I was always curious about the feeling and to tell the truth all i felt was a lil dizzy, kinda light-headed. So what is the big deal about alcohol and the 'highs'? I still don't get it, although it have to admit, as a first experience it was fun. Why does it make everyone so extra-flirtatious though?

Multiplicity

2005-12-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

Man, I need a pensieve sometimes. To separate each thought from the few million clouding my brain. To flip them, play with them and look at them from every possible perspective. Pull out some naughty gossip from one corner and mull over the latest scandals, analyse every snippet of advice i've received and delete the cartloads of garbage I'm bombarded with every day. I'd actually be able to focus on my college assignments without any silly distractions. Wouldn't decision making becoming simpler?
We've got an astounding repertoire of information stored in that small grey brain.Human intelligence has so many dimensions, many of which have yet to be explored. We've got emotional intelligence, computing abilities, logic and reasoning, instincts, impulses and reflexes. Add to that the subtle manifestions of ESP that we all have. How do the systems perform all these mind-boggling functions. Its amazing how the chemical cocktails in the body, the senses all team up to help us perceive potential danger, sniff out a partner, elevate our moods, etc.
And the brain loves complicating everything. All the time. It's so easy being a dog(or any other animal excluding the human). They don't have complex emotions like depression, inspiration, desperation, etc. Or even if they do, they aren't amplified like they are in humans. And they're never pressurised. We think before we speak(atleast for a nanosecond), think a hundred times before making a decision,so basically we have the unique flair to think too much, to calculate, to equate. To complicate things further, we've hormonal surges, PMS, pheromones etc. Tangled in emotions, an information overload and our chemistry, it's no wonder we're confused about so many things. There are a zillions of questions, and a gazillion sources to get answers. In this age where the world shrinks on a daily basis, we've got easy answers to plenty of queries at the click of a mouse. The once solid border between right and wrong, black and white is blurring into several tones of grey. So wouldn't it really be easy to be some totally spoiled pooch?
But I know that if reincarnation is a possibility I'd always want to be born as a human. We're just so fascinating! And I'd like to be reborn as me. But that pensieve would sure be handy.

Disconnected

2005-11-25T04:16:00.000-08:00

Suicides have always scared me(suicide cases like the bright iitian boy's, nafisa joseph's suicide,etc have prompted me to post on this issue). The fact that people who seem to have it all(fab looks like those in nafisa's case,money, enterprise, above-average intelligence) buckle under pressure and feel pushed into the darkest corner of no-return is very unsettling. Why did these souls feel so lost, so alone and so hapless? How did they lose hope and faith? Couldn't peers, professors or even family guage the intense dissatifaction they had with life in general?
So this one's to those who harbour ideas like life's way too hard. There's always a shoulder to cry on, always someone who'll care.

We all go through phases of depression in our lives-some last for days, some fizzle away in a few hours. These negative feelings are triggered off for different reasons- academics, trauma, unrequited love, or sometimes the inertia in our lives. These complex feelings are too difficult to express and suppress, so they just keep building up. And you start to feel disconnected with the rest of the world, you feel like an alien on some weird planet. In these godforsaken times, what are your solutions? Someone who's engagement just broke off isn't going to simply 'move on'. Just like someone who's flunked his course isn't going to relax the second you spout the overused - 'its going to be alright'. It will eventually, you should always remember that. But give yourself time to heal, time to figure out your future. There's always a plan B(suicide does not qualify as a plan). It's a matter of perspective and what you do with your life is going to be solely your choice(even if you apparently don't have a choice,it's because you've chosen not to have a choice). You can blame it on influences, pressure, anything at all, but but whether you want to be a victim of your circumstances or not is your choice. Always. It's the truth-naked and ugly, but so it is.

Here but really gone

2005-11-02T04:30:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in class,
Everyone's talking
At the top of their voices,
Yet I seem to hear nothing.
With a phoney smile I,
Ward off a billion questions.
Its so easy to deceive them,
And pretend that I care
About their trivialties.
I hate being a hypocrite,
Yet I am one,
For how else am I to behave
in need-based relationships?
We don't care yet we need,
Hence the sweet nothings
And small talk.
And empty smiles.
We're all brilliant actors.
So in that bustling classroom
I compliment, I smile
Infuse joie de vivre.
Laugh loudest,
After all I'm the one
Who's laughing last.
So with a mental smirk,
I continue being
The perfect listener.
And think about those,
Whom I really care for.
And I realise
That i'm here in class,
But in my mind I'm really gone.
I'm miles away.