Rollercoaster

Air-conditioned love

2009-04-13T17:52:00.002+05:30

The streets outside lie empty, as if the whole city was hit by a zombie virus. But none of that post-apocalyptic scenarios, I say, it's the heat that's re-embracing its eternal love, the Juliet to its Romeo, this city of Delhi, a dusty hellhole where the fires of heaven cannot remain clenched for too long.
The cold was only a sham. A mirage to lure travelers into its deepest bowels, and residents into believing climate change is finally a reality.
I can feel the hot tepid air on my face as if it never left me. It sucks the air within my lungs, leaves me gasping for another breath even as Helios pours out its love for this city.
In this heat we wander.
And in this heat, that crowded-to-the-brim but air-conditioned metro system seems like an oasis.
How easy it would be to fall asleep while standing under the vents that give out cold air like manna from the heavens.
Yet in this heat we wander.
In circles and spirals, I say, around a maze of glazed white circular constructions--a remnant of the colonial past. Was it any cooler then?
We wander as we relentlessly seek out the elusive watering hole, that one spot in the desert where prey and predator alike beat the mid day heat.
And in our post-modern, cyber-punk, techno-junky, reality-tv-stupified society--it is none other than an enclosed cafe, another modern invention of expenditure, a haven for get-togethers of young couples who hands and kiss each other in the corners of this fancily-lit, magazine-studded, exotic-brews-advertising cafe.
Air-conditioning is as inseparable from us as the shoes on our feet or the underwear that we wear.
Love brews in an air-conditioned environment.
In that heat, an embrace leads to a shrug-off, a seeming rejection of the affection.
Inside the cafe, the embrace becomes an excuse to come closer.
Love needs air-conditioners to survive in this heat.

of grammar and idiosyncrasies in the air

2009-04-10T01:00:00.002+05:30

i is just coming back from the land of the bombay, where the merry gujhu bhais has setting up a merry own stall of theirs in the airports. i is flying by spice jet one morning [maybe that is why guju bhais choosing it-teekha teekha] when i realises my plane full of patel chacha and hingorani chachi eating theplas merrily merrily merrily.
they coming back from holy pilgrimage of vaishno mata as it was holy time of nine nights....and they is going back to the dhandha in vashi....
i enter and i see plane is full...
i thinks to myself stopover from jaipur with so many peoples inside...
then i hear the melodious voice of a million gujju bhais going ping pong and air hostess trying to calm them by giving them sandwiches......
but sadly air hostess herself was not aware of the demand for garam chai inside and the foot next to the kettle which she sadly dropping on my foot......
all hot hot tea falling on my foot....
i screaming....air hostess--beautiful she was; christina her name was; good eyes too--she keep saying sorry sorry but the harm was done.....my heart was getting stolen....
therefore i is not being able to say much except it is okay.
anyway. back to my uncles.
i like them. they are very nice people. very funny too. filled with joy and pride at the world.
one man being so courteous that he donated 5 sandwich packets, 4 juice packets, 3 water bottles, 6 cashew nut packets [the munchies come on] and 4 chai glasses to the beautiful air hostess
litter bag....
and then very generously offering another aunty [i do not knows if she is known to him. it seems like so. but aunty's uncle was also present. so i dont know what to make out of it] a sandwich which he is saving for the taxi ride from bombay airport to mira road....
so sweet no.
that's exactly what i is thinking.

before i forget, man, i hear this man talking on phone to his mrs. telling her sweetly she is not obese, only little bit fat. to eat tanduri chicken, not butter chicken. so sweet a husband he was.

bombay airport--my my--as crowded as bombay itself....but one good thing i saw.....viveik [i hoping that is his spelling] oberai meeting his friend....
i is being in double mind over taking autograph or not....then i thought i is too cool for him....so i did not....
now i think, i did mistake. i could, maybe, sells it later on ebay.

A new-age Bollywood

2009-03-24T23:15:00.001+05:30

I had this in mind for a very long time, but Mr. Sottai insisted I go ahead. Here you go:

Move aside Mr. Johar and Mr. Chopra. Make way for a new breed in ‘Bollywood’ filmmaking—a breed that is not afraid to tell stories, to express desires, to flaunt psychotic tendencies and to show-off creativity.

‘A Wednesday’, for me, is one of the path-breaking movies in this respect. With a screenplay tighter than a corsette, it moves flawlessly, beckoning the audience to be encapsulated in an urban thriller digressing towards a moral dilemma. Furthermore, it might be one of the few movies where the protagonist is nameless, a representative of the middle class, yet an individual who is willing to take action. What marks it out from the rest of the lot, is the simplicity with which the story is told—there is no time wasted on the rituals of character explanation, and leaves it up to the audience to decide the nuances.

While all this talk of a new Bollywood breed is on, let’s not forget the harbinger—Mr. Kashyap, who, unfortunately, has taken up for himself to be the torch in this new Statue of Liberty. But the torch wavers; it flickers in the gale of commercialism and an inability to deliver the premise of the film. For example, ‘Gulaal’, probably post-2000’s only mainstream revolutionary film, if we discount the beautiful ‘Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi’ as a parallel cinema, fails to show the path that it amazingly lights up in the first half. With an array of the most interesting characters to have graced Indian screens and in a setting that has never been touched in cinema, Mr. Kashyap should have had the good graces to not tumble down the lowly slopes of romantic intrigues and femme fatales. Instead, he does. And the movie, instead of becoming a ground-breaking film, ends up a jamboree of characters who do not know where to proceed, now that they have gone two hours into the film.

A bit about ‘Dev D’ here—which, of course, has been hailed as the ultra-chic and an in-your-face film that has no holds barred. Yes, it is an interesting twist to the traditional Devdas tale. Yes, it shows a deep psychological insight into the characters, as never before. No—it does not work as a reflection of the cesspit Mr. D falls into—the result of a broken heart. Why—because, simply, his relationship with Paro is not defined. His relationship with Paro is a culmination of boyhood fantasies which border on sexual release and the display of machismo. And, most importantly, his relationship with Paro does not appear to be obsessive enough for him to digress into a path of supposedly ‘moral decay’, as marked by Aronofsky and Kashyap’s new best friend Danny Boyle-dedicated 360 degree camera turns and neon lights blinking revealing a drug trip.

But forget the media hype for now. And instead, watch ‘The Stoneman Murders’. Indeed, it has its flaws. There was no need for a lingerie-clad madam to be performing a traditional ‘item’ number. Neither was the concluding scene. Rather—watch it for it represents—an edge-of-the-seat thriller that twists and turns into a maze of cat and mouse, where you never know who the predator is and who the prey. Notice the film posters on the walls—the details are all in there—keeping in mind a basic point of filmmaking: the time and place should not be anachronistic to the event on the screen.

It’s not as if our big budget starrers are not trying to break the mould. ‘Luck by Chance’ is an example—spoofing the inherent tendencies of Bollywood’s obsession with stars and not with actors.

That draws me to an interesting concluding question—is Bollywood getting over the hype of the star, and instead, focusing on the story and the actor? Or is it just a phase—like the time we thought ‘Lagaan’ would show us all a new Bollywood?

Whatever it is—just promise me one thing, all ye directors: never put me through the trauma of another ‘Delhi 6’.

Hunger pangs

2009-03-24T19:28:00.001+05:30

In response to Varun Gandhi's over-the-top overture in the wilds of Pilibhit. Had written a long time back, though.

The mob moved ahead, weapons brandished as if they were divine gifts. Their leader, a restive young man in ruffled hair and a cheap orange shirt from the pavement, was urging his followers to move on, reclaim what was once theirs.
The mob didn’t need to be told that. They were hungry, yes, they were. For exacting revenge on the cut-dick bastards who had gone over the top this time. This time, once and for all, things had to be sorted out.
“Remember those martyrs, those pure of heart, who got burnt alive. Those innocents, roasted inside a compartment just the way these fuckers roast their goats. It’s time for us to show them who we really are, won’t we?” the man asked upon his crowd.
The colony looked haunted. Dark - the lights had been cut off a long time ago – except for a yellow bulb giving short glimpses whenever it came within the range of their eyes. It seemed like the gods were on their side – darkness would be the perfect time for a massacre. All the blood, it could seriously unnerve some of the younger ones. Plus if there are any witnesses…..nay, there wouldn’t be.
But they were too late. The entire colony was empty. Not a single human soul now resided in the huts, nor moved among the dark alleys, stepping over the drain that flowed onto the road.

They had moved out in the very first days of the riot.

“Shit. I think these fuckers have already gone to the relief camps,” one of them shouted.
“I knew these guys were too smart to stick around waiting for us to attack.”
“They must have left at night, when our boys went back home.”
Slowly, the mob reached a frenzy. Heated discussions over whose fault it was became the point of the hour. Fingers were pointed, abuses to one’s mother began simmering in the air.
But all of them heard the whimper.
It was a sound of pain, of immeasurable agony.
“It came from this corner,” pointing towards the alley opposite.

A dog slowly appeared in their view. It was an emaciated bitch, her ribs’ presence overpowered by the bulge in her stomach and the overflowing teats.
“It’s just a bloody dog.”
It came towards them, wagging her tail, expecting a bone or if lucky enough, a piece of meat as the others did before they left.
It never saw the blade’s glitter before its head rolled off to the side, its body spraying blood and thrashing around.
“What did you do that for?” asked a man, closest to the dog and recipient of a splatter as well.
The restive man just shrugged, and said “I think it was one of theirs’.”

unemployment blues

2009-03-03T03:00:00.002+05:30

when the going gets tough, there is no place to hide.

2 and a half months and counting. unemployed still. surviving by on daily subsistence levels. realizing the best (and only, so far) offer i had was of an internship that paid less than what half of India earns a day. (That's 100 bucks--what i was getting and what more than half of India earns)
Wow!!!

This 'recession' everyone's been talking about--how real a recession is it really?
firstly--India doesn't suffer from recession. It's a slowdown. S-L-O-W-D-O-W-N
secondly--thank the Communists. they've saved India.
thirdly--it's just a fucking excuse for layoffs. cost-cutting benefit analysis.

I am just back from a 5-star. All the lights in the lobby were on. All the valets were working. They had candles on the lobby tables even whiles the bloody lights were on. Stupid stupid aesthetic sense--mine, obviously, not theirs. How dumb of me not to notice--it's the look, dammit.

My friendly Rastaman still grins. Thankfully. My girlfriend is still with me. Thankfully. My maid still takes an off on Sundays. Thankfully.

unemployment blues/ooooooh
life's all loooose/oooooh
i croon all day like a burnt fuse/ooooh
and everyone believes it's all a ruse/ooooooh

Corbett Corbett...

2009-02-25T19:19:00.002+05:30

You can take a man out of the city, but you can never take the city out of a man.

There we were, in one of Corbett National Park's most famous chaurs, or grasslands, while our Gypsy driver pointed out a Horned Owl amid one of the branches. Along came another Gypsy, its denizens a bunch of young men from the City. Seeing us stop, they asked what could we see. We said, an Owl.

"उल्लू की माँ चोदो. हमें शेर देखना हैं."

And in one instance, my vision of a human world co-existing with the natural world disappeared.

Can man, as a species, truly recognize the importance of every species in a ecosystem? Given that everyone goes to Corbett to see a tiger (we did too), does that fact really diminish all other species' importance within that park? What is indeed, the difference between a tiger and an owl? Both cannot live in harmony with humans, and both are equally vital as is the Chital or a Wild Boar in Corbett's ecosystem.

Dhikala resthouse.
Babies play with their nannies while their parents catch up on sleep. Loud men in garish clothes reek of alcohol in a no-drinking place. A family of 10 constantly chats, even while on safaris. And nubile young women stretch their bosoms out of a Cielo to gather a glimpse of an imaginary tiger.

Does the idea of eco-tourism really work? Not in my book, unless one is aware, unless one recognizes the idea of co-existence.
It's a little bit like communalism, really. Hindus don't want to live with Muslims. Muslims don't want to live with Jews. Jews don't want to live with Christians. And all of them certainly don't want animals around them, unless it's a fancy Pomeranian they've bought for 15k.
So is there a solution?
Probably. And in certain little ways, Corbett is an example. Hand out garbage bags at the gate. No non-veg food inside the resthouses. Restrict the traffic inside the reserve. Fine people who do not obey the rules.
Yet, there is a lot more that can be done. Hold workshops inside the resthouses. Teach the people why they should respect forests. Do not look over any sort of indiscipline.
We can save the tigers, but can we save ourselves?

An interesting observation: A solar-electrified fence around the Dhikala resthouse means only one thing. Out here, in this outpost in the middle of a jungle, we are the ones inside cages. Therefore, we have to behave like the ones who live inside cages.

of fat jaguars and ice-cream addicted monkeys

2009-02-17T17:46:00.003+05:30

The signboard reads: 'Dangerous animals. Please don't put your hand inside the cage.'
I finally understand why the Mayans revered the Jaguar as a god.
Sadly-not here in Delhi Zoo.
"It looks unhealthy."
"Obviously. Look at the exercise they get. A bloody 15 by 15 feet cell."
"Look at the flab that hangs under its belly."
"What is it trying to do? Climb that branch?"
"The female's not interested."
"Fuck. That's a lot of flab."

Dangerous animals over. We wade through marsh mosquitoes, and halt at the mother of all thievery corporations.

(A monkey with an ice-cream, in case you were wondering.)

"Bipedal animals look so ugly."

a season of discontent

2009-02-13T14:44:00.004+05:30

and life moves on, like a crawling tadpole about to take its first step on land.
my terrace is a cheap replacement for the sands of Goa.
yet i park my behind and sun-bathe like an inglorious individual.

unusually warm for this time of the year. the ants are out of their hibernation and back to what they do best--invade my kitchen. my landlord's sons believe a loud barbecue party is the best way to end the season's depression. coal flakes fly all over my head. my clothes line creates a hyperbolic shape under the weight of all the clothes that we refuse to pick up and pack in.

"Who told you to leave your job at a time like this?"

curiously yours

2009-01-21T02:03:00.002+05:30

every once in a while, a movie that shakes your very soul is released. it questions your ideals, it raises doubts about what you believe to be important, and it teaches you some very important facets of life. the curious case of benjamin button manages to do just that. it is indeed a curious tale. based on a f. scott fitzgerald story of the same name, it tells the story of a man who ages backward. it seems a weird story at first, but layered within this seemingly innocuous screenplay are some truths about life, a lot about love and a whole lot more about realising who you are.

i never realised aging could be such a complex issue. i look at it a lot more differently now. to grow old--what does it really mean? to witness others' lives in front of your own eyes, to outlive your loved ones, to find that age is nothing but a relative concept--these are a few ideas expressed in the film. no, there aren't grander concepts such as destiny and fate which are addressed here. no, there isn't a melodramatic tale about lost love in the film. yes, there is a certain innocence maintained throughout the movie--one that seeks to understand what is life all about.

it teaches you that love isn't about compatibility, or about common interests. love is unconditional, and this movie tells you why. [i wouldn't want to spoil your film by telling you how.] it teaches you that life is a long affair, and yet, every breath of it is to be treasured. and finally, it teaches you what coming of age really means.

visually--it's a stunning movie. hollywood has gone a long way in achieving near-perfect special effects. brad pitt pulls off one of the best roles in his career. cate blanchett, as always, is ethereal looking. the love they share, in the film, may safely be called one of the most fascinating relationships i have seen in motion pictures. equally fascinating is the mother's love showered by Queenie on Mr. Button.

i cannot predict whether it's an oscar winner or not. what i can vouch for, though, is that it is one of the best movies to have come out in 2008.

insecure elements of the human mind

2008-12-06T01:31:00.003+05:30

we live in difficult times.
26/11 has been played over and over, yet the details remain fuzzy. by now, most of us have an idea of what happened: a group of people managed to hold an entire city hostage.
and the 24-hour news channels have continually reminded us: this is war, this was a precise military-style operation, and that lashkar-e-taiba [the alleged conspirators; their past attacks on India doesn't help their we-did-not-do-it-Hindu-nationalists-are-framing-us theory either] had help from the Pakistan military and the omnipresent nemesis of India:the ISI.
then the morning papers: damaged sushi bars, a shattered 5-star heritage hotel, the survivors' tales of horror.

it's all around us. it pervades our innermost senses wherever we go. it is in the back of our heads, our sub-conscious minds tell us, beware, there could be another. from discussing it at a friend's wedding to a what-the-hell-just-happened-to-India debate over a round of drinks: 26/11 is everywhere. it pervades it to such an extent that you are unsure about the person who agreed to pay your auto fare to the metro station because he was getting late and the driver didn't have change; that the man inside the metro with a backpack looks threatening, that a faulty silencer sounds like the piercing rattle of an AK-47, that everywhere you go, there is a nagging doubt at the back of your mind telling you to look out, find a safe area.

we truly live in difficult times.

exciting happenings in the wild

2008-11-21T01:16:00.004+05:30

lately, what has got me hooked is the state of wildlife. tigers, particularly. wild ones. and i fear, that our future generations may never know what a wild tiger is. in fact, they may never know what
wild really means. especially not, when tour packages such as these advertise wildlife reserves this way.

exciting happenings:
accidents, maulings, deaths.

what's not exciting is, 96% of India is covered by people. 4% by animals, wild animals.
when Project Tiger started in 1973, there were 1,800+ tigers. In 2007, there were 1,411.
and of course, the in-famous Sariska. where two tigers were recently translocated from Ranthambore. sadly, the forest officials couldn't translocate the third tigress, as she couldn't be found. [or did she know something about sariska we didn't--the easiest way to kill a tiger, is to shoot it inside a national park. it's like killing a man in his home. only difference is, there are too many of us.]

then i read about China. about South-Chinese Tigers being one of the most endangered animals in the world. about how it could have survived the wanton development that China undertakes. and about how IUCN believes it to be extinct in the wild.
but, a chinese official believes otherwise.
in fact, China believes tigers do exist in the wild. Proof:

unfortunately, there is a slight problem with this supposedly wild tiger's proof of existence.
apparently, the farmer who had clicked it, and the forest officials who proudly announced that the pride of their land did exist in the jungles, did not know that "A Netizen Panzhihua discovered that the tiger poster on the wall of his home shared the same features as the tiger in Zhou's photos. Even the stripes were the same. The only difference was the ears."

and slowly, the truth came out.
From a Chinese blog cum news site : Zhou Zhenglong , 53, a hunter in mountainous Zhenping county who produced photos purporting to show a South China tiger alive in the wild and who repeatedly insisted they were genuine, has been arrested on fraud charges.Seven officials were sacked, including Shaanxi forestry department's deputy director Zhu Julong - who pledged to resign should the photos prove to be fake - and six others were subject to disciplinary action.
if you are a chinese, this goes for you. did you know, that scientific evidence shows tiger bones, which are supposed to cure everything from rheumatism to blue balls, does not have any medicinal properties. that a mole rat's balls will give you the same aphrodisiacal feeling that a tiger's testicles will. or in plain simple language, your balls won't work if your balls are lousy, even if you had that tiger bone soup in the evening, no matter how hard you try to get it on with that hot woman.

in Vietnam, they advertise tiger balls saying, "eat once, make love six times a night and that will bring you four sons."

please. i am not a seafood person. but oyster sounds much more potent than a pair of balls.

the chinese incident is, however, too similar to the indian forest officials' version to go unnoticed. back in 2005, when Indian Express broke the story of the Sariska tigers, every forest official denied it. some, in fact, even said that the tigers were in hiding. Hiding-yes sir!
what the incident shows, is the great bureaucrat's propensity to show results. to show that he cannot be blamed, and that all reports of local extinction are overrated.
what the Chinese officials did not count on, was that one could trace and test digital photographs.

what is this enigma called the tiger?
Corbett wrote, "when I think of a tiger, I see a young boy about eight or nine, walking in the bush without a care in the world. And he comes face-to-face with a tiger, who looks at him, gives him a scowl as if to say 'what the hell are you doing here boy?', and walks off into the bush." [I am sorry I don't have the book to repeat the exact quotation, but in case you are interested, it's from Man Eaters of Kumaon.]
Geoffrey Ward talks of four different individuals in India, who found their calling in this striped king, and writes of each of their trials and tribulations against the 'mighty' Indian bureaucracy. Billy Arjan Singh, for example-who was single handedly responsible for setting up the Dudhwa National Park, and the bureaucrats forbid him to enter the park because he was accused of stealing firewood from the jungle. [Tigerwallahs: Saving the greatest of the great cats]
Ruth Padell writes of Ullas Karanth, who kept screaming at how tiger pugmarks were a highly unreliable way to count tigers, and quotes an interesting anecdote: Two tigers were kept in a cage, and after a couple of hours, several 'scientists' were brought in to guess how many there were inside. The lowest figure was EIGHT. the highest-17.

it is difficult to imagine how, in a country with a population that grows at nearly 2.5% a year and has the highest number of malnutritioned children in the world, can someone find it possible to even think of saving tigers. especially since a tiger pelt can get a villager more than what he can earn the entire year through his farm. but, as India's tigerwallahs have always argued, to save the tiger, you have to involve the local community.

Understand this: The world's highest demand of tiger parts come from China, a country where the tiger is supposed to have evolved first, and now has died out in the wild. The demand for tiger parts is ever-increasing, and now, China is "farming" them, like horses or cows.
And here we are, in the countries where the Tiger still roams free, atleast in a few parts.
If you are an animal-lover, hunting a cuddly-looking tiger cub will definitely not appeal to you.
If you are a nature-lover, imagining a jungle without its residents should not appeal to you.
If you are one with a conscience, driving a species extinct for its pelt and bones cannot appeal to you.
And finally, if you are a patriot [anything, any idea to poke at your conscience just to save the tiger], imagine this: your country's tigers are being killed, to sustain that old fart's sexual appetite, or that executive's exquisite lunch laced with tiger wine, must not appeal to you.

if you remember your enviromental studies 101, you must remember: kill the apex of the food chain, and the order of nature goes awry.

if you can, please pass it on, especially to any Chinese friends you might have.
as i said before, anything is plausible if it works to save the tiger.

we are liberal, but hey, don't disgust, disturb, disappoint us!

2008-11-01T21:09:00.005+05:30

this week's tehelk a has one of the most interesting letters to the editor i have in recent times. it gives an interesting insight into the characteristics of the english magazine-reading mind. sadly, it is not something to cheer about.
i quote:
"disturbed.disgusted.disappointed. This is how I would describe my and my friends' feelings after reading your cover story on homosexuality in India.
Disgusting it is, for using the word 'love' for the carnal, unnatural and debased sexual infatuation that the deviant group is afflicted with.
Disturbing for an attempt to impose respectability and acceptance to acts, that till now, were limited to closets of those suffering from the malady.
And disappointing it is, as valuable space in your esteemed journal has been wasted on the fantasy of a miniscule deviant group, which feels compelled to ape the West in all they do.
Without being distracted, I hope you continue your crusade against the rampant corruption, communalism, criminalisation of politics, partisan attitude of our police and the travesty of truth and justice that we see amidst us every day."
The letter was from a MA Jaleel.
i have a few problems.
firstly, the usage of the word disgusting for substituting carnal, unnatural and debased desires into love! i am sure the person concerned might surely be an expert on love to understand its nuances and therefore, comment on homosexual love as just a sexual fantasy, but as a die-hard upholder of the liberal indian dream and as a crusader of justice, he does not remember what a bench of the Delhi High Court had said a few weeks back :"These are not scientific reports. These are articles quoting Bible, which is propaganda. Your arguments should be based on scientific reports. Show us scientific reports which justify criminalisation of such acts (gay sex)"
secondly, the reader calls it disturbing that the article was an attempt to gain respectability to an act indulged in by a 'deviant' group. the article in question is not an attempt to gain any respect; rather, it is an insight into what it is like to be homosexual in a country like India, and does not in anyway, become self-apologetic or empathy-arousing. and well, the reader, like many other 'illiterates' who only read hindi magazines, does not know what a malady is. english lesson for him:
malady:

1.	any disorder or disease of the body, esp. one that is chronic or deepseated.

a malady is a disease. how can a sexual behaviour be termed as one? is homosexuality chronic? is it contagious? did all the readers of tehelka change their sexual behaviour after reading the article?
Mr. Jaleel, however, thinks otherwise. maybe he has turned gay as well, after reading the article, and wrote the letter in a moment of frustration?

i don't claim to be a scholar on homosexual issues, nor can i completely understand the stigma that gay people have to face in this society, but even for a straight guy it's easy to understand, once you read the story in question, that no author is asking you to prerogate their position. noone is asking you to support their fight against an illogical act, which deems a blowjob illegal. the magazine does however, tell you about the matunga racket, and how the mumbai police sodomise gay men on threats of charging them under the very same act.
how is that disgusting?disappointing?disturbing?
yes it is disgusting. disgusting that despite a history of 4,500 years of civilisation where same-sex love was not frowned upon (don't believe me, it's everywhere: krishna and arjun's relationship; arjun's year-in-exile as a cross-dressing, weapon-wielding transvestite; bhishma's understanding that shikhandi was the woman he had spurned in a man's body; khajuraho, kamasutra, so on and so forth), this shining nation frowns on the very idea of sex. where women are thought to be purely for quenching desires and the medium of marriage is the best excuse for people to have sex whenever they want and not pay for it. where a girl cannot sit in a bus after 9 anywhere in this great nation, except a tiny section in the north-east--another bit of land our english speaking readers don't bother to know about, and hence, cannot be inspired from.
disappointing, for it was a rare breed of article that needed to be encouraged more. sadly, receiving letters like these will make the author think twice, or any one else attempting to write something similar. disappointing, that whoever thought english education would be the best way to inculcate a liberal mind, a mind that does not gravitate towards any prejudices.
and lastly, disturbing, because this letter reflects not the single reader himself; it is a microcosm of the bigger picture, a reader who knows corruption and communalism are detrimental to human society, that travesty of justice occurs every day, that our police is not ours to behold, that our politics can never be clean. unfortunately, for the same reader, deviant minds like the one who wrote the article must not be allowed to spread their malady, or else, this great cradle of human civilisation will be infected.

a village and some ruins

2008-10-25T17:51:00.004+05:30

it seems impossible to imagine the existence of a fresh-water tank in the middle of a city like delhi. and a further suspension of belief that once, this tank existed for the sole reason of quenching people's thirsts.
a right from the green park market takes you to hauz khas village, where quaint little movie poster shops co-exist with glitzy designer labels, where a thatched roof lives alongside a multi-storeyed apartment, where, wonder of wonders, a deer park shares its space with a celebrated restaurant, and where, in the 13th century, Messrs Alauudin Khilji built a tank for the residents of Siri [Hauz Khas is the second city of medieval Delhi], as Wiki informs me.
but it does exist, and is a personal recommendation to any friend who wants to laze an afternoon in a narcotic haze.

of delhi's shivers that wait on the horizon

2008-10-05T16:21:00.003+05:30

before the storm came the lull.
and before the chill came the dusty, muggy, sweaty and sticky clime.
a brief period of rainfall that led to multiple traffic jams and a million insects is now over.
what we face here is the intensity of heat reserved for the hotter months.
but i believe it is a warning sign, a sign that the coming months will be a worthy adversary, and that your best ally is only the old monk from mohan meakin castle.

the cold wind that blows through your jacket despite it promising a warmth reserved for the polar regions; the heavy fog that threatens to overpower the road while you drive; the heater that is about to melt its grills but the heat never seems to reach you; park your car outside and the remnants of a frozen night appear on the windshield as ice flakes; push the quilt to cover your legs and you discover a certain other part that now feels the chill; a frigid drive back in an auto's back seat through a city that has frozen by now, while you feel the pangs of envy witnessing a bunch of people crowding around a fire in their flimsy blankets; the early morning rays of sunlight that you desperately try to gather some warmth before the smog bounces back any hint of heat; sipping a mug of hot chocolate on your terrace, sitting in that comfortable couch you bought on the MG road, wrapped in a multi-hued shawl indigenous to hippie towns; gulping that hot alu-chaat on a cold evening amid the multi-storeyed office complexes; how the fingers automatically retract when the first drops of ice-converted-to-water falls on it....
to suck on that cigarette so that it gives you some warmth even though you know it's not going to give you any....
multiple swigs of the rum in an attempt to preserve your body from falling prey to hypothermia...
a cold nose...
frozen fingers....
a frozen world...

a vast tundra...where all the denizens move effortlessly into hibernation...
and the city sleeps....

torrential downpour

2008-09-30T14:30:00.003+05:30

my life revolves around movies these days.
no, seriously, it does. the immaterial, metaphysical and obscure object called life, has decided, that it will not bother with other activities as long as the unlimited width of the broadband gives up on the traffic that it generates.
and so, it has come to respect the hard work and the effort put in by two significant men [i presume, women have better things to do] called aXXo and FXG.
some would call them pirates.
more would probably rejoice when they manage to release a flick before the cartel of expensive dvd makers do.
yeah yeah, they are pirates. but the clarity of vision and sound that they offer is undoubtedly, the best among the millions out there in the infinite galaxy of the internet.
so i bow my head in reverence, and spread the word of the prophets:
"seed and leech
dare to share
one way or the other
you will always find someone who cares"

what would the life of a movie-pirate be like? the imaginarium of a distorted mind spreads itself out, and imagines: "a job at the local dvd store. everyday filing through hundreds and thousands of motion picture dvd catalogs. go back home with a couple. today i shall rip these. with a toke in one hand, and a beer in the other, he watches the computer take over, rip the original 4 gig dvd in a 700 mb file and create an object that brings the movie studios to their knees."
or it could be: "i am against the corporatisation of the motion picture business. i hate these movie studio moguls who think a movie is a commodity, an object to be sold in the market place like a loaf of bread. and i hate these idiots who think buying a dvd for $20[or $30 or Rs900 or whatever price you might be paying] is doing the right thing because it's a genuine piece and the money goes into further productions and its their property and blah blah......"
or it could be a simple "fuck the capitalist bastards. i am going to have some fun today."

the internet is the god of our times, and axxo and fxg are surely its prophets. they are heralding the dawn of a new era, marked by sharing size and file upload speed. they are breaking down the rigid laws of hollywood, where marketing makes up 40% of a movie's costs, and the profit margins are 40% as well. and you thought that bar in the alley was robbing you just because you paid 50 bucks more than the cost of a pint.

axxo and fxg have another lesson for the current world phase, this current financial situation which is based on the eternal gratification of infinite human greed. as banks fall like dominoes on a daily basis, mankind realises avarice has no end. it may be a sin, hell yeah, but as long as i go to church it's all cool. why should i share the $50 million BONUS with anyone else? it's my hard work [based on something called leverage-what this whole mess is about]
what axxo and fxg tell us, is that it's never too late to share. share a bit. share a lot. don't be like the bankers, and start sharing once your movie has been completed.
come on, someone stayed up all night to let you seed, didn't she?

The queen of murder

2008-09-03T16:25:00.004+05:30

performance number 22,461. that says it all.
as a writer struggling with the limits of imagination, i wonder what she had to do to come up with such ingenious tales.
you might shrug her off as plain paperback fiction, but you can never deny her the skill of storytelling.
which is obviously lost in some of the more 'famed' writers of our day.

i narrate a few that i happened to read recently.
hickory dickory dock, where a case of supposed kleptomania leads to a much larger mayhem of murder.
towards zero, where a group of people on holiday are only the pawns in a more dangerous game.
and then there were none, where ten people, unknown to each other, have one thing in common-murder.

she might not have written literature of the highest order, but christie certainly managed to convince her readers that as far as the killing of another human being goes, there is nothing short of a motive.
god knows what would happen if she ever committed a murder?
a perfect crime?
maybe.

into the wild-a review

2008-08-19T20:32:00.003+05:30

there are some movies that one remembers as a great watch.
then there are those that one does a re-think about, a movie that forces you to analyze your very own existence, and compare it to the one on screen.
into the wild falls in the latter.
to look at it cinematically is simple - absolutely stunning locales, brilliant cinematography, excellent screenplay and acting.
but to look at it as a tale, as a life-changing experience, is where the trouble begins.

most people desire a break from the monotony of their daily lives, to travel, to see the world beyond their everyday existence. the trouble is to reconcile that desire with the more practical reasoning of
a)funds
b)career
c)family
and that is exactly why christopher j. mccandless is a hero to all those who think on similar lines.

imagine: an A-grades student donates all his savings of $24,000 to oxfam, and hitchhikes across the states finally ending up in alaska, where, in his words, he found that
"And after two rambling years, comes the final and greatest adventure. The climactic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual revolution."
living off the forest and the rivers and the sea.
traveling across a multitude of landscapes.
meeting people who re-define the meaning of life, while changing your own.

who wouldn't wish such a life?
but the trouble is, for all his bravery, he didn't have the required skill to survive in the frozen land of alaska. and that is exactly why i have a problem with mccandless' self-belief.
and by the end, he concedes it as well.

his wish was to get away from the social animal that man has become, to be rid of the responsibilities that come with civilization.
and he achieves it.
but what comes of that achievement?
that is the question we are left to ponder.

a rambling about the day

2008-08-18T20:07:00.003+05:30

did u know that if u buy 100gm parle G biscuit, it's actually 92gms now?
and Nestle has been decreasing the weight of its maggi!
poof!
thus vanishes the last hope of a corporate revival, the last dream of capitalism!

georgia thought by sending the 3rd largest force to iraq, it could bully Mother Russia!
george bush looked on while georgia burned.
and the world learnt - don't mess with the bear, especially not one the size of a polar bear!

the airconditioner came back with the force of the jedi today, once again freezing us in the middle of a summer day. wonder what the building's electricity charges are?
but that aside, i think delhi's people are used to three things the most:
a)air-conditioning
b)eve-teasing
c)the stink of other's sweat
like in the metro today.
wonder how on earth, can people manage to gather up a sweat, at 11 in the morning?
and i wonder, don't they have the sense of smell?
or haven't they heard of an alternative called D-E-O-D-O-R-A-N-T!!!

and my friend sends me an invite to a poetry reading.woohooo!!!!!!!

culture is a vulture that feeds on the human greed to understand society!

for tomorrow's menu: i review Into the Wild (directed by Sean Penn)

in a state of dementia!

2008-08-17T18:57:00.004+05:30

now that the great mint experience begins again...a month long hiatus is apparently not enough to re-jig [or is that one word?] the popular perception of rupert murdoch's pet...
god i wish i could get that monkey's money....
so my pages have finished
and what has happened in the world today?
bihar's NREGS falls in trouble as it gives a 280 crore contract to a company with 16 crore revenue[that's called faith, my dear]
apparently kamal nath got mentioned 700% more this month than last month
and ahmedabad gets a shocking wake up call-wipro employee who turned bombmaker

in the midst of all this-italy lost to 10-man belgium
and phelps got his 8th.....
nepal gets a red as a leader....hopefully he can do something about the fuel and the food..
and lenin turned out to be a mass-murderer!

all the while the office toilet leaked and the shit stank through the roof
even as the air conditioner froze all of us to death
brrr.....
tehelka calls for writers-are they paying any more?
and my life revolves around a bloody kitchen and a tiny gas.

musings...of a different sort....

2008-05-14T21:20:00.005+05:30

i have been thinking these past few days, of the past year at ACJ, and what it has taught me. i have come to a few conclusions, except for the obvious fact that i am now a journalist, a profession many mock for its ludicrousness and exasperating habits. however, i do not intend to go into that bit. i have drawn a few conclusions, and though they might appear mistaken for some, i still believe that the past year has affected the person i was.
firstly, ACJ taught what it means to view things from a different perspective. for all the hoopla and criticism of the initial series of lectures that we had, many of us[including me] had problems with the way things were being presented to us. there were many of us who knew the background to the matter being discussed, and many who knew the matter intricately. however, it was interesting to note how different perspectives could emerge from a single incident, or as sainath would like to call it, a process.
for example, the lecture on caste by kancha illaiah. i still stand by the fact that his theory is based on a lot of falsities, oddities that have been singled out to bring out the whole religion as a flaw. however, once again, what mattered was the difference in perspective, and how it allowed all of us to indulge in a debate over the nuances of caste and its workings.
also, talking about perspectives, landing in nepal after a year during a time of heightened political awareness, it appears that many here lack a different approach. and that the media in nepal is also to blame for this. for example, i have been reading the papers recently, and what i found, or rather did not find, was a questioning of the turn of events post the constitutional assembly elections. a whole population has placed its hopes on this new assembly, and yet it appears that once more we are headed to a stalemate, a squabble that constitutes minor differences while overlooking the single fact that the fate of the nation is in their hands.
however, none of the reports i have read so far appear to question the elected leaders. true, there have been reports highlighting the fact that under-represented people have been elected, like the local tailor from pokhara, or the barber from the terai. but, amidst these reports, there is not a single mention of the simple fact that the leaders are wasting precious time. or that there is a lack of coherent policy making within the assembly as a whole. or that the objections raised by one party regarding the Maoists were to be raised before the elections. or that development has taken a back seat and the country is just functioning, or living by.

what is the job of the media?this is a question that has constantly challenged me these past few days, especially since day before's coverage of the jaipur blasts. today morning, IBN chose to highlight the injured - a definitely different tack; however, its melodramatic approach to the whole story had me cribbing - is this really what the media needs to do? also, during a questioning of the DGP of Rajasthan, the reporter missed the most basic question: what sort of explosives were used?were they timed devices or were they remote controlled?
many of my colleagues at the college will argue differently regarding what the media's role is. however, one thing which i learned again at ACJ, is that the media needs to leave its emotions behind. we need to look at events and processes[sainath again], when we are reporting especially, from an outsider's point of view. we cannot be cowed down by how public opinion maybe shaped post the report. we need to report as the incident happened, highlight the failure in the system, and comment on how can the state mitigate the bigger process.

so are we meant to be sadistic voyeurs? i do not for a moment think so. rather, what the profession implies is that we need to live double lives. we need to keep our personal views out of the reports we publish, because what we write formulates the basis of public opinion, atleast to a large extent.
we had this problem while bringing out our last issue of the Word, where a report was deemed to be activist and unsubstantiated. what we also found, was that a better use of words brings out the meaning without intending to offend anyone. and that, creative freedom and editorial censure otherwise, negotiation skills are always helpful.
however, coming back to the last issue, the wholesale cancellation of an article without informing the writer showed me once again that the entire talk about media freedom is actually a huge bunkum, a facade that has been created to encourage potential journalists. when the top official, who is not involved in the production of the magazine in any way, steps in to remove an article he/she personally deems offensive, the least the editorial staff can do is to inform the writer. in other words, it is what the modern world regards as professionalism.

i know these are my individual views, and that the reader may differ from each of them. however, once again, it is the perspective from which you view it that makes your decision.

2008-05-13T09:27:00.002+05:30

finally, a time of insanity ends. no more rides to bessie, no more chandu and no more anna's...its been a bloody long year, and at the end of it all, there was a collective sense of relief. probably, that stemmed from the fact that april was the cruellest month-empty corridors and labs, a few of us who worshipped the airconditioning, and chennai was getting unbearable by the day.
anyway, i am back in nepal for a few days before joining work. there is a new buzz that definitely can be felt around here - it is the buzz of a new government. however, when i look at nepal from the eyes of an outsider, there hasnt been much that has changed. rather, the roads have deteriorated, the electricity supply is short, kathmandu faces traffic problems increasingly, and the heights - pokhara's traffic has become a snarl during rush hours.
i speak to different people about it. everyone has a different view of the problems. but one thing that emerges is the pessimism. one friend tells me, even if the economy is not growing, banks are increasingly growing profitable. which is not untrue. in pokhara, i see new banks that have emerged in the last 12 months. and these are just banks - i am excluding the hundreds of finance companies like the one which has made its headquarters next door to mine.
nepal is going through a very exciting time. the challenge and the prospect of a new system of governance looms over everyone. rumours abound - the king will enter into a deal with the maoists, there is a huge difference of opinion between the Maoist leaders and so forth. everyone is politically interested - a little like the south of india, where sycophancy takes to new heights. hopefully, and thankfully, a similar nepotic culture hasn't emerged here, although our great revolutionary Prachanda is showing signs of deifying himself.
randomly, i choose to take a ride through pokhara. i discover new lanes and newer stores. i spoke about the traffic jam earlier; it was extremely surprising and a bit funny. development chooses different ways to show itself, and one of it is a traffic jam. i see newer cars, more two wheelers, and worse roads.
nepal hopefully will emerge from all of this, unscathed and better. we are a resilient lot; however, we are also an indifferent lot.

Post a madness - revelation time!!!

2008-01-18T17:26:00.000+05:30

finally back to being my old urbane self after a month of wandering....
i can't say i saw too many places...neither did i experience a lot...
but what i found was a distinct contrast...one magnified by an amount unimagined in my mind...
poverty and development are the new buzz words at ACJ...to be sensitive is to seek stories...relate tales of under-development, violence, caste politics
do i seek to differentiate myself from this....i don't think so...i am a part of the system...the system is a part of me...i have chosen to be this...supposedly the power of the press lies in the narration of the tale...but does not exceed beyond that....

eastern maharastra is a land plagued by multiple evils....whether it is the state..or the naxals..or the health system...or the education system...or the under-development...
it seems as distant from the prosperous west [where i spent my new years] as earth from mars..
a land once owned by its people, who now live in constant fear....

so did i think that i was there on a quest?was i there to liberate the people from their pains?
not at all...
yet all the pre-conceived notions that existed in our minds fell apart...all the lectures seemed pointless when we confronted the situation first hand...

it's a beautiful land....filled with trees of every kind....where once man and animal lived in harmony...now there is a constant game of cops and robbers being played in these forests...
land mines....AK's...RPG's...
to get your limb chopped off is passe....the new deal is to be hacked......to death

i have seen this kind of violence before...back home...never has it been so upclose...
i realized the real bastards are never on the ground....they are safe...locked away in their safehouses...in distant forests or in concrete offices....
while the people of the land die daily....

so...
am i a changed man post the 'deprivation' trip?
i don't think so...i am not apologetic about the fact that i love the luxuries of an urban setting...
i just think how easy it is for us to debate about other people's lives and consider them to be plain facts...

I discover a Lost World

2007-12-19T20:04:00.000+05:30

I found myself gazing at the rocks...not a single boulder looked out of place...they placed against so symmetrically.....

just sitting there on the river bank, it just felt like what some would call nirvana.....really...it did....

i dont think i have any words to explain what i felt....i have tried rewriting this 5 times...but cannot manage the words to describe the experience....

welcome to Hampi....

Child's Dreams.....

2007-12-06T16:08:00.000+05:30

A few days back, I happened to chance upon a new issue of Tinkle – which as most of us would remember, was an essential part of our growing up days. I greedily lapped it up, more in nostalgia than excitement, and realized that ‘Uncle Pai’ was still going strong, and ‘Suppandi’ had managed to incorporate Microsoft Windows in his jokes.

So it seems that the magazines we grew up with have changed with the times, in Dylan’s words. But have they lost their appeal? Is the excitement of reading about princes, dragons, mythical worlds, gods, adventurers and daredevils too childish to even think about now? Does growing up mean we cannot be fascinated by these magazines, yet again?

One of the first magazines for children, Chandamama, apparently thinks otherwise. Published in July 1947, it continues with its multi-lingual editions up to this day. It was surprising to read how Chandamama refused to advertise in its pages. Brilliantly colored illustrations, marked with tales that tell tales about the heritage and culture of India, the magazine still upholds its tradition. The ever popular Vikram and Betal series reminds me of a time when we friends would crowd around an adult who would read it aloud.

To be reminded of one’s childhood is a haunting feeling. A friend reminisced the time when she would be eagerly waiting for the new issue of the monthly Gokulam, and the elation she felt on receiving a new magazine in her name.

Children’s magazines aren’t a dying breed today, as we may think, surprisingly. Tinkle continues to rule the roost in the English language, while Chandamama and Champak vie for vernacular language readerships. Most magazines follow a simple thread – richly colored sketches of characters, stories with morals, no shades of grey in the hero, and informative pieces about India in particular and the world in general. The issue of Tinkle I picked up had a brilliant article on the Bamiyan Buddhas – and probably enlightened me more about the destroyed statues than any news magazine or encyclopedia could ever manage to.

These magazines are essentially that – a mine of information, morality and character-building. However, it will be highly unfair if one takes away the fun factor – the biggest draw. Target, another magazine that subsided with the advent of cable television and cartoon channels, made puzzle solving an exciting adventure. Owned by the India Today Group, it stopped publishing in 1993 to make way for Teens Today, a drab attempt at cashing in on Target’s popularity. In those days, we didn’t care about lifestyles or fashion. We wanted adventure, intrigue, fun, information. We wanted to be know-it-alls.

An email from another friend spoke about the days when children had no iPods, multi-channel cable networks, hand-held gaming devices or wireless connectivity. Reading the issue of Tinkle took me back to those days – though I must confess I had a few luxuries to boast of. It seems children’s magazines will never lose their charm, though the magazine itself may die of profitability issues.

Vizag and random thoughts

2007-09-30T12:31:00.000+05:30

here i am - sitting in the lap of luxury watching the waves crash even as the hills behind block out the sun!!!!
who would have thought vizag wud turn out to be one of india's cleanest, most well maintained and beautiful cities.....
pointer to myself - i need to stop making judgments before i see the place

but apart from tht - this place is def rocking....its all scenic beauty..the sea..the long coastline...the massive hills...brings one a sense of calm just by looking at them....probably one of the best health tonics for rejuvenation....

probably wht i needed after a hectic first term....
but it was fun...life flowed in a series of stories..stayed up till 5 doing our print project...got onto a wrong train and didnt realise it upto 30 kms away(yams and muku - we'll prob warn our kids against this sort of idiotic behaviour)...shouted at others maybe a gazillion times:)...
but in the end - it worked...
it will be different this term...none of the random madness that defined our group F..of course..sumitdasgupta is missing...but i have TUNNU to compensate for everyone...
hahahahahaha
we will rock print okies tuns??

so...here we are...
i am reading a book calld red earth and pouring rain...by vikram chandra...
interesting storyline but he is dragging the story now...so gettng infuriated[well not exactly] at the turn of events...
but i am happy...i got to read finally....

till the next post....

Adventures in Lungiland

2007-08-28T21:20:00.000+05:30

feels like ages since i wrote anything apart from assignments....
this place is exhausting...tiring...exciting...yeah it is..u kind of end up discovering a new self everyday...
take me - i didnt know i could manage haggling with the worst auto drivers in the world....and that too with a language barrier
i didnt know i could learn tamil - even if i haven't perfected the art of learning tamil in 30 days[my roomie gifted me tht book tho i havent looked at it even once - sorry mr ziad]
i didnt know that moonlight could shine on the sea.....

anyway.....
my screenplay partner tells me i must start blogging once again...now that i have discovered the art of going around the firewall to edit my blog....we must start once again....

chennai is a city of contradictions - they say it is the hub of india's information technology future...but all i see is a city mired in poverty, lack of official attention and the utter despondency of its citizens
i am a cynic - but i am not alone in my views.
malls here shine in gold shops..while outside drunk people lie on the roads with traffic passing within an inch of them...
i think thats life....
lungi land can never be this good....
maybe i expected a silicon valley in the making....
Tamil Nadu is a surprising land - alien to the rest of India, maybe even to the world.

Asian College of Journalism --
what about that?
it's a job!!!
and one that makes you pay for working!
sometimes i feel - this college was setup to make us alcoholics and schizophrenics....hooked on to stories all day long, we've forgotten how to be at a beach except think about is there a story there?

but i am having fun...soon the grilling starts....
till then...

finally...back to blogosphere....

2007-03-22T21:56:00.000+05:30

after a long long hiatus...
bombay excites me....there is something about the city tht is different...or maybe its just the 5 years in delhi that makes it seem so..
but whatever the reason..
bombay seems a much better place to be than delhi...more alive...faster..
those who say its too fast are just complainin!!!:)
as my friend said....u either love bombay or hate it....

so far so good...
ive got thru symbiosis mass comm, pune...
for now...
i have a place to continue my education...tht feels good...

the new word is RED

2007-01-22T22:23:00.000+05:30

i just finished a very very unusual, exciting and an excellent book-MY NAME IS RED-by orhan pamuk. we would've probably never heard his name hadn't he got the nobel this year. but thank god we did. this book is one of the most interesting reads i have had in recent times. mystery...romance(no sex-sorry to disappoint!!!:)..lots and lots of historical facts and legends...and a very detailed look at the islamic miniaturist artistry style at the height of the ottoman rule in turkey..
if you trust me--
YOU MUST READ THIS!!!

i forgot to mention-the best bit about this book is the style.a very novel way of presenting a story-in the first person, but not as simple as u think.if u dont think so-pick it up for urself-its for Rs. 225 only!!!
btw...i got it as a gift-and i love it!!one of the best gifts in recent times!!!thank you!

new resolution!!!

2007-01-07T19:00:00.000+05:30

another new year...
another new set of resolutions!!!!
seems like its time to join the rat race..
anyway..
on my to-do list this year:
1>movies-lots and lots of them-as always...we must increase our budget to meet increasing movie standards and appreciate the art in them..depictions of reality after all....(thats so lame!!!)
2>books-gabriel garcia marquez, hemingway, steinbeck - the holy trinity - i am coming for you.....

3>study--not that its the least important priority, but its there...yeah..it is...this year finally!!!!

4>try updating this webpage as often as possible..
what i cant figure out is what to keep writing in this..its not as if ppl follow my writin as something great...
maybe someday they will...

anyway..
cheers..