Random And Happy

Freedom of choice is just a word (or three)

2012-01-30T23:24:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time, in a land not far from where you are (right where you are, in fact) was a different world. It didn't have the internet, or Rajdeep Sardesai, or this newfangled concept of your life being an *open book*.

I could be biased here, but I think it was interesting, for starters.

You couldn't go to a museum knowing what was inside. You couldn't travel to a foreign country with a street view in your palm.

No checking of menu before trying a new restaurant.

No videos of how it actually feels to be a bungee jumper.

Not even any articles on life in Delhi, when you considered moving.

No tweets by movie stars with bad grammar, about their breakfasts. No unwanted information on the two hours spent in makeup.

No second-guessing by friends and family. No zillionth point of reference for your life, reducing you and everyone else to the greatest common denominator.

No ready voice in the background, telling you why you're wrong. No body of proof, ready to be drawn from Google, twenty friends and eleven relatives.

No nth album of Goa pictures, or wedding pictures, out there to prove to you that no matter how shiny and perfect you thought yours was, someone's was better.

No location tagging. No tedious updates about who is where, especially when you're at home on a Saturday night.

No outrage wars, no empty protest marches, no instant activism for the generation with an attention deficit.

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Yes, this blog is becoming a little too philosophical. I promise the next post will cover all the usuals: Uday Chopra, Gujjus, blonde women, SRK, Rakhi Sawant... you get the drift.

Killing Them Slowly

2012-01-21T22:39:00.000+05:30

Dear Readers,

Bear with me as for once - just this once - this blog gets a little bit girly. No, scratch that. Feminine. Because that always sounds better, right?

I read this article a couple of days ago about women's clothing. Click this.

Now call me slow, but this gave me one of those blinding flashes of the obvious. This is a global problem. I thought this was about me, or Indian stores, or my overall penniless-ness and consequent lack of access to fancy brands.

Obviously not. It's the bloody manufacturers.

Because women's clothing, frankly, is a pain. Bags are a pain. Shoes are a pain. Hell, even the conventional idea of how to do your hair is a pain.

Everything in every high end store caters to a tall thin woman with small hips and very little flab. Where is this mythical goddess? No one knows. Often, increasing sizes account fully for increasing heights but not at all for girth. This naturally makes you wonder who buys them. Answer: The lineup of supermodels that you see at Palladium on weekend mornings and afternoons. Just them. (Want to know more? Read Avantika's post here.)

Here we are. A nation of short, well-rounded (heh!) women. No long legs. No 22 inch waists. Definitely no 30 inch hips. And yet, someone wants to convince us that we can look good in skinny jeans. And Levi's wants to make an ad for *curvy* women showing 3 types of jeans for different "types" of curves, except that they all look exactly the same - skinny.

Let's talk about footwear. Buying anything at all is usually a tiring exercise. Footwear, more so, and chances are no matter what you buy, you'll regret it. Why? Because:
1. All formal shoes will give you shoe bites within 3 days of wearing them. (Not to mention all formal shoes have zero grip and maximum potential for slipping, tripping and falling.)
2. All comfortable shoes will make you look like Mayawati.
3. All pretty-and-comfortable shoes will make you wonder if you should have bought something with a heel.

Bags? Here we're all at fault. We want our bags to fit in a book, our phone charger, wallet, keys, makeup, sunglasses, glasses, lenses, lens solution, dabba, bottle of water, disposable soap, a newspaper and if possible, a laptop. Result? Gargantuan beasts that usually come with as many shiny straps and buckles as a dozen cowboys. Result a month later? Perpetual shooting pain through 1 shoulder and 1 leg.

Hair? Hairdressers are the scum of the earth. To justify their highway robbery, they will push to give you the most *unique* haircut in the city. Maybe something short enough to make you worry that you're a boy. Or asymmetrical. Or worse - bangs. Which normal woman can put up with bangs without a desire to staple bits of paper to her own forehead? And this is just the earnest ones who want to have earned their fee. The non-assiduous ones will be happy to spray a lot of water on you, trim all of it a little, and say, "You like?" with such fierceness that you feel obliged to say that you love it.

But no matter what kind of hairdresser you're up against, no matter whether you want them to cut your hair, or trim it, or lop it all off - one thing is common. They thrive on doomsday prophecies. The minute you're in the damn chair, they're tut-tutting at your hair and how *damaged* it is. How you need a hair spa (no points for guessing, this is usually very expensive.) How dry it is. How oily it is. How straight it is. How curly it is. How they found 3 split ends. How they found 1 white strand. How your hairfall (whether it's 1 or 100 a day) is abnormal. How you'll be bald in a year.

Then they ask you asinine questions like "Don't you use an egg?" Good God, obviously I don't. It stinks, I don't have the time, aney this is a pure vegetarian Gujarati household. (Even if I did have the time, it'd be a sad waste to spend in a bathroom, cracking an egg on my head and waiting for my hair to absorb all the muck.) Better still, "Do you use public transport?" Answer: If I keep coming here and spending my life's savings on you trying to make me feel bad about my normal hair, I won't even have money for public transport.

The next time you assume your co-worker is sniping at you because of PMS, consider this: She has very likely come to the office in uncomfortable pants, in a train filled with fisherwomen, then walked on a road in high heels looking for a cab, carrying about 7 kilos of weight on one shoulder - and all this is fresh on top of her hairdresser saying yesterday that he wouldn't give her hair 6 months. And this is just the beginning of the day. It is extremely probable that lunchtime means just a salad thanks to the Struggle Against Worse Pants.

Enough, I say. Why do men get away with a 50 rupee haircut, 2 pairs of shoes (total), 1 comfortable bag and 5 pairs of almost-identical, comfortable clothing? Because no one can convince a man that he's not a stud to begin with. Ladies, very important lesson there.

Don't believe me about this? Check out the Zara website. Now visualise a normal sized Indian female friend. Fit A onto B. Have a nice day. :)

On Avoiding the Kolaveri

2011-12-08T13:26:00.000+05:30

Yo boys, gather around.

Every now and then you wail about how all girls are horrible to you.

Now I draw your attention to 2 facts:
1. All girls cannot be horrible, so maybe you are chasing the wrong ones?
2. Your lack of guile (and very often, stupidity) in these matters often lets you down.

Alright. That's the disclaimer.

Now let me say that I do agree with you. Most girls are horrible. In fact, the only time they're not horrible to you is when you're way out of their league. In which case they're being wonderfully nice to you, but you're just not noticing.

Why are most girls horrible to you? Well, research shows that at every stage in your friendship / courtship / anything-in-the-middle, there's ample opportunity for girls to be horrible. Ah, why keep saying horrible. Bitches be crazy. It's true.
There are various categories of girls, but most of them have the ability to be bitches at the drop of a hat.

The Girl Who Won't Put a Label On It

Everyone enjoys the "chase". However, if you've been in the chase for 6 months now and still have no idea where you stand, be assured, you're not the only one. And your chances of winning (if she ever admits to such a thing) depend on the quality of the competition, your unflinching regular phone calls, your unwavering commitment to her shopping and your periodic subtle hints on how you're so crazy about her.

Obviously, it takes an extremely well-organised, patient (not to mention, completely jobless) man to do this. Ergo, no one can do this.

Interaction with other girls:
She's a bitch to them. Which is okay, most of them can respond in kind. This doesn't stop them from envying her for the variety of men willing to be strung along.

The Victim/Martyr

These ladies are constantly being wronged. By friends, by family, by boyfriends, by househelp, by colleagues... Everyone's a cruel perpetrator of mental trauma.

So you're lucky, because the sympathy card is easiest to deal with. Combined with the average man's constant desire to help and solve, this could really work out.

Until, of course, you hurt her by talking to another woman. Then you're the cruel perpetrator. And don't you dare forget that, for the next year or so. (Even if you do, there will be enough bad press about you -to all your friends and hers- to keep the memories alive.)

Interaction with other girls:
She's a bitch to them. Just not to their faces. Which is okay, most of them can respond in kind.

The Hypocrite

She lurrrrrveeess kids! Show her a baby and she will use her histrionic abilities to convince you that she'd make an excellent mommy.

She lurves your parents! She lurves you! She thinks you're oh so smart! She laughs at all the right jokes. She has only nice things to say about your friends.

To those of you to whom this has never happened, it's okay. Missing out an a particular category of bitch is not a catastrophe. Even if she's hot.

If this has happened to you... you, my dear man, are very, very, very rich.

Interaction with other girls:
You know how putting on an act can be very tiring? Well, she compensates for the fakeness by being completely herself with other girls. She's a bitch to them. Which is okay, most of them can respond in kind.

The Kitty Party Enthusiast

Those of you who think kitty party means 40-something married aunties with kids - please wake up and listen carefully. Every stage of life has kitty parties. They just have more upmarket names.

The girls with graduations who are looking for jobs, but with very little enthusiasm? The girls whose daily schedule reads: Wake up, go to gym, lunch with the girls, online research for job, drinks with the girls, dinner with a boy? The girls who choose a postgrad that makes them better marriageable material? The girls who "take a year off" after finishing a degree for which they studied for a month?

They collect in groups. And gossip. They discuss fashion, and boys, and shoes, and boys, and jewellery, and boys. For all practical purposes, this is a kitty party. There may be no card games, and the ladies are a lot hotter than kitty party aunties, but this is a kitty party.

Oh, they're beautiful. They have nice faces and exemplary make-up skills. Good metabolism and amazing love for the gym. If they are also nice to you, this simply means that they are both a KPE and a Hypocrite (see above). And of course, that you're very rich.

If they're not nice to you, don't worry. More time on their hands = more time to think about you. Before you date them, this translates to better chances of dating them. Once you're dating them, this translates to better chances of her getting rid of you.

Interaction with other girls:
She's a bitch to them. But it's very subtle, so subtle, in fact, that even the best male will say we're being paranoid. But female bitchiness is a learned concept for men, and an intuitive skill for women. So, please, let's trust the women on this. Either way, it's okay, most of them can respond in kind.

The PR Girl

She makes a sandwich, and it's on Facebook. She studies a new language, and it's applause-worthy. She takes off to an unheard-of university to do a diploma in something that no one cares about, and it's cause for celebration. But the biggest achievement is this - she's not even hot.

Whoa, right? How does she do it?

Painstaking PR and a few similar ladies. She gets together with the besties, and suddenly your Facebook wall is filled with pictures, updates, stories of how hard she works, tales of how she sacrificed 2 hours of sleep, pictures of the coffee she made (which, I don't wanna brag, but it was so awesome in the first go!!!), deep philosophy on life and people, world peace, quotes from Chinese philosophers and her humble account of how she met a child today who changed her life forever.

This, my friend, is brainwashing in the information age. And you are the unsuspecting victim. While you are surrounded by women with careers, and education, and opinions, and less bullshit, and even women who might be hot - you regard the PR Girl as the complete woman. This is as much the victory of PR as of the girl.

Dating a PR Girl:

Pros: It's reasonably stable. Screw up, and there's always the chance that you can use some of her bullshit philosophy to justify why your screw-up was a good thing. Not much conversation is expected from you as long as you can nod intelligently.

Cons: Everything about you will become a part of the PR. And the negative PR when it ends will come as a complete shock to you for some reason.

Interaction with other girls:
They're bitches to her. Partly because they cannot stand the amount of attention she gets, and partly because they think she talks rubbish. Which is okay, she can respond in kind.

Aspirational Girl

She does you a favour by talking to you. She does you a favour by dating you. And you must return her favours by turning into whoever she wants you to be.

It's never put like this, of course. It's polite, sweet and cutthroat. You see those guys who walk around looking like they're constantly under threat? Well, they are. They're under threat of being given the boot, even if this is never stated.

Interaction with other girls:
She's a bitch to them. It's a cycle. She feels threatened by them, so she threatens you. You flail around a bit, do the best you can and hope for the best. But then, so do the other guys. And she will hear about them from her girl friends, and feel threatened again. Most of them respond in kind, not because they're Aspirational Girls (though AGs do tend to huddle together), but because... well, bitches be crazy.

Yes? Okay?

The FAQs.

Q. Where do I stand with her? Does she flirt with other boys to make me jealous?
A. Won't put a label on it. And no, that's not the primary reason - but it is a reason.

Q. She's a good friend of mine, but ever since I started seeing X, she's been behaving odd.
A. Won't put a label on it + Victim/Martyr.

Q. I'm dating her but she's constantly unhappy with me. I love her, I don't want to make her unhappy! What do I do? *wail*
A. Aspirational Girl. You cannot win. Put your foot down and risk being gotten rid of. Or keep trying. Premature balding awaits.

Q. She loves my mom but my mom hates her! What do I do now?
A. This happens when a Hypocrite meets a non-Hypocrite. Don't worry. Get married, then they'll both hate each other.

Q. I like talking to you because you're interesting. My girlfriend bores me.
A. She's probably quite normal. And you're saying this because you're one of the more complicated categories of men. That post will come later. It's enough to say, though, that for once she is actually a victim.

Q. Before we started dating, she was so nice to me! Now she's just... I don't know.
A. If she's free a lot, refer KPE. If not, Victim/Martyr.

Q. She makes me want to be a better person!
A. About half of you are dealing with a very gifted Aspirational Girl who just wants you to be a different person.

2011-12-04T23:55:00.001+05:30

The proliferation of idiots will be the downfall of mankind.

Are You A Super Cheerful Social Being?

2011-10-19T11:16:00.000+05:30

Are you happiest when at a table of 20? Do you look forward to occasions with extended family? Is talking to people what makes you happiest?

Good for you.

But. Are you also one of those people who think that being quiet is a disease? Or, literally, a case of not being at ease?

If so, I sincerely (really, truly, desperately) hope you will read this:

6 Misleading Assumptions You Make About Quiet People

I'm hoping this article will put an end to the people who jolt me out of half-slumber at dinner tables, saying "Arre Mudra! You're toh not saying anything only!"

Because... here's what. If you were going full-steam on a conversation with everyone, and I suddenly interrupted it to say, "Dude! You're not shutting up only!", that'd be met with a stunned look. How rude that girl is, no?

And if you do understand that, understand this - when you do it to me, it's just as rude.

Have a nice day.

Thought for the day

2011-10-04T21:41:00.000+05:30

Being a man means never being too old to be irresponsible.

(I thought of this. Really! I surprise myself... about once a year.)

...

2011-10-03T23:37:00.003+05:30

For most of us, the world feels like a huge place where you move in a daze from point to point - with voices (clear voices or vague voices, inside your head or outside, in front of you or in shadows) shouting at you to "do something useful!" when all you want to do is the exact opposite.

That's what I hope, at least.

We're All Stars on Facebook

2011-09-19T00:33:00.003+05:30

There's a lot more space for mediocrity online.

You don't have to be a writer to blog. You don't have to be a political analyst or standup comedian or scriptwriter to tweet. You don't have to be a photographer to have a flickr account. And you don't need to be... well, anything, to be on Facebook.

Which is all very well, since it serves as much-needed *practice* (for want of a better word). If I blogged every week, my writing would improve in a few months. The more pictures I clicked, the more I'd see what could change. Until - and this is a big "until" - my mediocrity starts being encouraged.

I have no incentive to write better if comments are only going to say "LOL!". If my instinct at a failure is to feel bad and give myself a tough time about it happening - it doesn't really help to say so online, because all it means is that 7 people will comment telling me "Don't be silly, you're amazing." The failure proves the exact opposite, in fact, so what are they talking about? While I don't deny I'm amazing in general (hah! :P) it's obvious that hardly any thought that went into a comment that makes me feel better about myself - for no bleddy reason.

Similarly, I have no incentive to work harder, as long as I can log into Facebook, bitch about my life and the state of my studies and have 6 other people tell me how it's completely okay to be frustrated, and how I need a break.

Because, really, I don't. No one does. Everyone has enough breaks, enough help, enough advice and enough politeness. What none of us seem to have, is enough introspection.

All around you, all over cyberspace, and especially all over Facebook, you will see mediocrity. Mediocre pictures, mediocre art, mediocre talent, mediocre lives. I'm not being condescending. This is mediocrity that could have been something else, if it wasn't crowd surfing on more mediocrity. And why does it find support? Why do you tell someone something is "awesome"? Is it...
1. Because you think so?
2. Because you know they want to hear it?
3. Or because it makes you feel better that someone comparable to you is *awesome*, hence, by extension, you might be too?

We're all part of it. Ranting online makes me immensely happy. Not just as a release of frustration. But as a substitute for action. Having a consistent (albeit largely fake) feel-good atmosphere strips you of the desire to change something, to do something differently, to take control, to move forward.

This post won't really end with one of those grand promises. Because I really don't know how much can change. I'm sure this will garner enough comments telling me how the world is a more empathy-filled place, support systems, etc etc. Maybe. Maybe not. I'd just rather have genuine criticism that makes me stop and reconsider, than hypocrisy-fuelled inertia. Good night, peoples.

PS. If your comment here is positive, that's fine. But if it's "Lol!" or "Wow!", it'd be irony of the worst kind. :)

"It does not take courage to survive"

2011-09-04T20:45:00.000+05:30

...or so says the principal of a college, to a woman who has dealt with and bounced back from an acid attack, and wants to push for awareness and inclusiveness towards burn victims.

In addition, interacting with a victim of an acid attack is a bad idea for college students because it will *put the girls off the idea of marriage.*

Where do I start? I'd rather not. Just read the article.

Yes, You Will Get Older

2011-06-04T22:38:00.003+05:30

And your friends will stop dancing the drunk-baraati dance.

You'll stop eating dosas at the stalls, and have reunions at fine dining restaurants.

Some of them will inexplicably take to jazz. Or feng shui. Or marrying.

Enjoying Govinda movies will be looked down upon. Or remembered indulgently with a "We were so silly then!" Some people will start throwing names of Japanese filmmakers around.

Cutting chai will be replaced by green tea. Chocolate (any chocolate), by hand-made chocolates, or Swiss chocolates, or truffles (what in God's name are they?), or -even worse- cream-filled chocolates where they bung in a pile of yellow cream with a 0.01 mm layer of chocolate to cover it.

Birthdays will become about painful (and painstaking) reciprocity, instead of show-up-and-rob-of-available-money.

Some will compare husbands and wives. Many will compare money.

Most of you will do all those things to your kids, which you told each other you'd never do when you have kids.

Some will unabashedly kiss posteriors. The rest will do it with some embarrassment.

Superiority and inferiority complexes will happen. Commonalities will fade.

I'm sorry, there isn't a last redeeming line of hope. Or maybe there is. Yes?

And Gentlemen,

2011-05-22T22:50:00.006+05:30

(The much-awaited follow-up to this post.)

Instead of posing rhetorical questions here, let me list it down, plain and simple, in point form, so that the meanest of intelligences can comprehend. What's that? Oh yes, I mean the women. Obviously. Naturally. I mean, what else could I possibly mean?!

#5 - Being sure ("Abbey, 100%! 200%! Bol raha hoon yaar!") all the time

So, someone told you that you must come across as assertive and confident. So far, so good.

Unfortunately those people didn't realise that they've created:
- Boys who step out of exam halls and:
> Compare with each other - thereby getting into fights. (Abbey saale, pagal ho gaya hai kya, yeh toh 155 nahi, 206 tha! Tu toh gaya!)
> Compare with girls - thereby causing girls to think they are failing. (C? Are you mad? That's D! And the next one? No it isn't H2SO4, it's H2S! I'm 100% sure re, I saw it this morning only!)
- Men who won't ask for guidance at work because they've got it all figured out - until the day the kicking of the posterior begins. After this, to their credit, they catch on quickly.
- Guys who make decisions on impulses. Why? Because being indecisive is not macho. Sure, it's okay to make the wrong decision, at least you made it quickly. Yay!

#4 - Telling me how much you work

So, someone told you that hard work is important. And a thing to be appreciated.

Unfortunately those people didn't realise that they've created:
- Guys who begin their internships, and crib.
- Guys who work 15 days out of 30, and crib.
- Guys who crib about having to work 9-hour days... in a 2-month internship.

And the worst of all - guys who seem to think that the rest of the world is on vacation, and they're the only ones working. Really, Einstein?

Don't get me wrong. Those of you who work at regular jobs, should crib. I mean, we all hate that, don't we? But to those of you who have just begun working - pick your audience. We're not in the 1950's any more, when you could tell a woman about how much you work in office and she'd be instantly impressed and want to make you a hot meal. Everyone works. It's kind of necessary, since we all want BMWs. So use your "thak gaya yaar" line on the liberal arts graduate who hasn't ever interned. It might just work.

Everywhere else - I think not. (Especially with your wife, if she works. All you'll get is a list of all the things she does around the house in addition to working, and maybe she'll eat your half of the takeout paneer tikka pizza simply to spite you. Yes, I know what you're thinking, having a little money of their own corrupts everyone.)

#3 - Saying "Sachin is God" all the time

Yes, cricket is an important part of Indian culture.

But every time you do that, I imagine about a thousand zombies rising from a graveyard, in perfect sync, and walking towards Wankhede chanting "Sachin is God. Sachin is God. Sachin is God." in unison. Eventually you (the zombies) are just standing around, looking silly, still saying "Sachin is God."

So, erm, don't do that? Find a new line. Or something.

#2 - Clicking on anything that has certain keywords in it

I won't go into the details of the keywords. This is a family blog. Let it suffice to say that in spite of the raging Facebook spam all around you, and the various things you could learn from an experience, you seem to be clicking on the same links again and again. It's as if your memory of previous scams is erased the minute you see the golden words. My home page is littered with the tales of your follies, and all it tells me is that your interests -your business alone until now- are now public information.

Do something. Stick a post-it over your monitor. Or, well, simply find restaurants that actually serve your dishes, instead of looking for baked beans in a can of worms.

#1 - Bullshitting people who aren't your boss

See, everyone knows when you're bullshitting. And everyone deals with it in their own way. Your boss usually has 3 options - he could call you a bullshitter, he could say nothing but make a mental note for the next performance appraisal, or he could see a little bit of himself in you.

Everyone else, unfortunately, is faced by a singular predicament - we can't say you're bullshitting, because that's rude. But when we're forced to listen, we're troubled by an overwhelming urge to:
- Point and laugh
- Punch you
- Both
(There's also the option of do-nothing-and-laugh-about-it-with-friends-later, but that's irrelevant here, because everyone's doing that all the time anyway. Trust me.)

So, coming back. When you know nothing about a subject, hacking together an article from Wall Street Journal, and chapter 1 of macro-economics doesn't make you the expert. Psychology isn't what you see on Oprah combined with the articles you read in Bombay Times. Photography isn't just what you do with your camera. (Yes, even if it's an SLR.)

The world is a complex, complex place. When you try to explain it, to people who understand it a little better than you, in gross simplifications, that are based on someone else's thoughts... you're bullshitting. Don't do it. No one's being fooled. I'm sorry, but you had to know.

Dear Multiplexes,

2011-05-03T23:18:00.004+05:30

We need to talk.

When you came into my life many years ago, I liked you instantly. You had so many screens! And played every kind of movie! And so many show times!

As we grew older, you made me show up 40 minutes early for shows I'd prebooked. I let it go.

Then you started changing. I suffered through it all - 250, 300, 350 rupee tickets. 50 bucks for water. 100 bucks for popcorn. Spending 3 hours with you, at my level of poverty, meant forgoing 2 books.

I withstood your grand entryways and your hole-like exits.

I silently cursed your slow staff and your annoying promotional pieces of glossy paper.

I gritted my teeth through repeated bag-openings, pocket-emptyings and friskings.

But I have reached the end of my patience. Thin edge of the wedge, etc.

In spite of all your faults, I thought we were committed to each other.

But you -you annoying piece of omnipresent shininess- you can't even commit to tomorrow's show!

What moronic idiot cancels shows as and when he feels like, just because an art film is not doing enough business? You have 5 screens and 25 shows a day for a reason, you know!

If you want to screen only blockbusters, why are you part of my life? I'll go back to the old faithful single-screen, no? It doesn't make me wait, doesn't change plans randomly, doesn't subject me to multiple rounds of security, doesn't charge me based on my desperation to watch the movie, seems to care about me at every step and so... well, I think it loves me more than you do!

I think we should start seeing others.

It's not me, it's you.

And FYI, I was lying when I said I like your bright red walls. I think they suck.

Hmpf.

On the Marvels of Modern Movie-Making

2011-04-23T13:53:00.005+05:30

So thanks to the World Cup, school exams and IPL and god-knows-what-else, the movie industry has either been releasing nothing or launching one dud after another. Hollywood also, for some reason, has been sending rubbish our way. Dum Maaro Dum comes at a time when people are sick of looking at Telugu and animated movies on BookMyShow. And frankly, its timing is probably the only reason it'll do well. Smart.

The movie-makers would have you believe that Deepika Padukone is in this movie. After all, she shows up at those press things, and talks on every damn channel about it.

Don't buy it.

The woman's there, in a 4-minute item number which would have been better if left to Yana Gupta. The lyrics would have been better if they were simply beeped out and a -1 track played.
(Side Note: Dear Padukone, With your kind of star power you couldn't spend your time on anything better than this song and holding a flask of cold coffee while you move?)

The movie-makers would also have you believe that this movie is stylish and a visual treat.

Maybe it is. But there is only so much of drug-induced haze you're willing to tolerate on screen, especially when the story isn't moving the way it should.

The movie pretends to have a story and logic.

If the audience cared enough, it'd find the holes.

Someone streams live video in HD on an Edge connection.

I want.

The director takes Anurag Kashyap's style of filmmaking and adds his own spin to it, trying to make it *gritty* and *stylish*.

And good God, it is crass.

Bipasha Basu needs a comeback.

Unfortunately no one cares.

Abhishek Bachchan wants to prove he has more than 1 expression.

And he fails badly.

Vidya Balan should sue them. She has more screen time and more to do than Padukone. No mention or publicity to her.

Why? Haan? Tell why? (Answer: Movie-makers are mercenary idiots, and Padukone is publicity-hungry creature wonly, no sense of ethics left wonly in this industry, what to do, saar.)

-----------

This blog's popularity just went from 0 to negative, thanks to the Padukone comments. :D

Updated to add - Forgot to mention, Prateik is quite, quite brilliant yet again.

Before a wedding in Ahmedabad, someone got very very creative

2011-04-19T14:21:00.003+05:30

To those of you who like Justin Bieber, and to those of you who are not Gujjus, this will not make sense.

To the rest, I think it's hilarious.

Here you go.

And yes, like every form of Indian/regional media recommended here, this too, is absolutely déclassé.

Food.

2011-04-16T22:52:00.002+05:30

Every time someone uses the phrase "buttering up" (e.g. "X is just buttering up Y"), I immediately imagine Y being transformed (in a typical, Cartoon Network, poof! way) into a life-sized slice of hot golden-brown, toast; and X, hungry, holding a knife with a lot of Amul butter on it, spreading it lovingly on Y.

Then I want breakfast. Regardless of time of day.

Ladies,

2011-04-11T20:21:00.004+05:30

Must you be so blonde?

Must you giggle and twirl and pretend to drop your little purse and then say "Oh I'm so clumsy yaa!"?

Must you match your bags with your outfits? And your nail paint, and your hairclips, and your belts? Must you wear the latest in London's fall collection, in India's summer?

Must you let your hair fall over your shoulders when it's 35 degrees? And flip and twirl and bunch up, only to let loose like a waterfall? Even when there are no men around?!

If you are model-thin, must you have a fat friend that you take everywhere? If you are regular weight, must you take one model-thin and one fat friend everywhere? What are you lot trying to be, a life-size before-after advertisement? And to the fat friend - find me, we shall hang. I eat everything so you don't have to be guilty every time you want fries. Seriously.

Must you wall each other on Facebook to make your evening plans? Can't you do it on BBM? (Come on, you all have "a BB yaa!")

Must you parade the nauseating spectacle of your communication with your "besties" and "dolls", with all its "muah babes" and "call me NOW" and song lyrics with little hearts in them? Why aren't you doing it on email or BBM or Facebook message? Is it because you think it's cute? Or because you think that the guys think it's cute?

Must you try to be cute at 20+?

Must you be silly and dumb? And those of you who aren't, must you try to pretend?!

I want to see what you look like in the mornings. Do you sleep with makeup on, in fitted designer clothes and a teddy bear from France that you've named something ridiculous?

I want you to not click pictures:
- in a loo. (Faucets and tissue and bathroom stalls, really?!)
- by pointing your own camera at a mirror. (Get your besties to do it, even if it means returning the favour by clicking 5 of the bestie)
- that are in fake-homo poses. (As they say, you're either there or not there. There is no middle.)
- that are taken at slumber parties which were held for the sole purpose of taking those pictures. (Whom are you kidding?)

I want to see you do something remotely useful. I want you to have a conversation that's not about yourself. And if the conversation is with a man, try and not make it about how smart he is.

I want you to cross the road by yourself, carry your bags yourself, drive yourself or use public transport, and for God's sake, stop expecting someone to rescue you.

Oh well. Wishful thinking.

And I'll do one about guys also, just wait. :P

Do you read poetry?

2011-03-22T23:11:00.002+05:30

Do you enjoy it? Do you get it? Does it move you?

Because I don't. For as long as I can remember, poetry either felt like it was trying too hard or not trying at all. Either there is a thought or there are words. One usually overpowers the other and the end result is not enjoyable.

This, of course, is from limited experience. And if I'm not mistaken, I'm not alone. Poetry needs patience, and silence, and thought - and all these, just to read it. No wonder then that poetry the toughest thing to publish. (Short stories are next, and that is surprising.)

But here's the interesting thing. The best and most interesting poetry I've read has been online. On blogs, linking to obscure poems by (often) obscure poets. For this (among, admittedly, many many many other things), I am thankful to the www. :D

Anyway, the point, the point! The point of this post is, poetry isn't so bad. It's very often a song without music. And sometimes -just sometimes- the absence of music is what makes it so much more powerful.

Don't believe me? A few links:

An entire poem blog.

Rehab often writes and quotes poetry. I really loved this and this.

Go on, find more. And tell me about them. =)

So I Finally Watched 'Robot'

2011-03-14T22:58:00.004+05:30

...and am I overwhelmed? Not really.

Entertained, yes. Very, very, very entertained.

So what if it's set in some mythical period where a Kargil war widow is still pregnant but Rajnikant has an iPhone? He probably created it as a toy and it took Steve Jobs 10 years to replicate it.

The stunning thing about this movie is... well, nothing. It isn't a Rajnikant movie in the true sense (or so I am led to believe, since I haven't ever seen a whole Rajnikant movie.)

For those of you who haven't seen it yet (there must be someone!), here's the story in a nutshell (it's full of spoilers, but who cares, you lot have seen this movie thrice at least. No don't deny it, I know who all read my blog, countable on the fingers of one hand and while I do love you all, you are vellas, aren't you):

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Rajni (The Scientist) creates Rajni (The Super-Robot). The Robot is for the Indian army and is doing rather well at the Robot Pageant by strutting, showing off its skills and bowling everyone over until it starts messing up rather badly in the Human Judgement round.

At this point The Scientist takes him back to the lab to give him feelings. After this, The Robot falls in louwwwe with The Scientist's girlfriend. Meanwhile, Danny Denzongpa (who I had no idea was alive), a rival scientist, wants to build a similar robot for terrorists but can't, because he lacks the brainpower of The Scientist.

Somewhere along the way, The Robot also screws up his military tests badly (read: he sings odes to Aishwarya Rai and sticks a rose into a grenade when asked to throw it). The Robot is dismantled, then rises out of the Chennai Corporate Dumping Yard in Goosebumps fashion, assembles itself, finds Danny, gets a red destructive chip fitted into it, replicates itself, goes on a rampage, is finally stopped by The Scientist and finally dismantled in a court of law, but not before some moralistic science-vs-humanity preaching and Rajni-praising.
----------------------------

Complicated storyline? Maybe. Unpredictable? Haha no, but that's not what anyone's looking for anyway.

Now the highlights of this movie (and there are many!):

1. Aishwarya Rai gets a role that's made for her. Yes. Consider the facts. The lady is pretty, healthy, and behaves suitably dim-witted at most times. For any actress in any industry (but especially the South) that's perfect casting. Add to this, she is required to behave innocent, young, giggly, and wear outlandish costumes and dance to a song that calls her "Kilimanjaro, ladki parvat ki yaaron, aha aha", more or less a cross between a History lesson, Devang Patel and a Pepsi ad. See what I mean? Perfect for her. Someone show it to the Cannes jury though, it's a role of a lifetime.

2. Everything that Rajnikant himself does in his movies, a robot does in this one. Which, frankly, is nowhere as enjoyable. From the clips and bits and pieces I've seen of Supershtaar Rajnikant (chasing a butterfly through a field for lady love, two guns one bullet each, I'll-make-a-tornado-with-my-foot, etc) I did expect The Scientist to be doing most of the dhamaal here. But what to do. They're trying to adapt to changing sensibilities. Someone tell them that sensibilities haven't changed, Indian paablic is Indian paablic wonly, and a Rajni in hand is worth two robots in the bush. (Or, well, a million.)

3. When a mosquito bites Aishwarya, we're already halfway into the movie. I expected the robot to scan it for its genes/DNA (scientific people correct me if you like) and match it in the swarm of a few thousand mosquitoes that he finds when he goes hunting for the bite-r. But no, saar. The robot stands among the mosquitoes, turns on "Mosquito Mode" and begins a conversation with the mosquitoes. Yes, saar. Such is the brilliance. I am floored.

4. Everyone seems to have remote access to everything. But The Robot's creator does not have remote access to him. Such is life.

5. Aishwarya Rai's blondeness, carefully measured in most Bollywood movies, is given free reign in Robot. And man, does it pay off.

6. The Scientist works with the government but has piles of money, a convertible Mercedes, a bungalow, etc. Patents, I assume.

7. Joyalukkas is there! Nothing is more heartwarming than seeing the one thing you associate with South India, in a movie. It sort of reaffirms your arrogant belief that you've seen whatever there is to see out there.

8. Surprisingly forthright for a South Indian film (not that I would know, I've watched only bits and pieces of Meri Jung - One Man Army, Bajrang - The He Man, and so on).

9. Aishwarya Rai breaks up with Scientist Rajni by asking him to sign some papers (stamp paper, no less.) Now the dubbed version calls it "pyaar radd". I would love to know if the Tamil version makes more sense. Anyway, after this breakup (and patchup which occurs in two minutes), she becomes surprisingly supportive of his mad-scientist ways. Then again, who wouldn't be, if the scientist was Rajnikant.

10. Rajnikant needs only 2 assistants to create his SuperBot. Danny needs a few hundred evil-looking buggers, and still fails. Then again, Danny isn't Rajnikant.

11. Robots organise themselves into the best possible form for fighting an army of humans. Which is fine. But the arrangement begin from functional (massive spheres, spirals, etc) to purely mythical and terror-inspiring (massive pythons, arms, etc). Pretty cool strategy, if you think about it. First kill half your enemy. Then scare the remaining half out of their wits.

Will someone lend me a DVD of Sivaji - The Boss? Thankyouveryverymuch.

Vishal Bhardwaj is a genius for many things

2011-03-14T22:53:00.000+05:30

...but the first among those is this song.

Dear Restaurants,

2011-02-20T20:27:00.003+05:30

Please serve breakfast. Decent breakfast. Breakfast with filling portions for vegetarians. Vegetarians who might not be eating eggs.

Please don't mention on your menu that half a boiled tomato (by whatever fancy name) is part of a dish. In the good old days, people just accepted that it doesn't add value to the dish. Don't pretend it does.

Ditto cream, syrup, butter, jam, a small side salad, a slice of an apple, etc. Basically, if it's tasteless, tiny and usual, it is irrelevant. Yes. I-r-r-e-l-e-v-a-n-t.

Baked beans, when on toast, must be served before the toast has crumbled beneath their weight.

If you're serving baked beans, try to do something to them to convince me you didn't just open a can and empty it on my toast.

Don't rip me off for breakfast. I will hate you forever.

Don't rip me off for breakfast while serving me rubbish. I will come after you with a hammer.

Don't open at 10 a.m. If you want to, don't say you offer breakfast.

Leisurely service could be appreciated by people at candlelit dinners in pricey restaurants (if at all). This is breakfast. I'm hungry. Hurry up.

Don't have a special breakfast menu and an all-day menu which starts at 11 a.m. All day should mean all effin' day. Don't put the good stuff on the all-day menu and save the rubbish for the breakfast menu.

Yes, be snooty and call it continental breakfast. No, don't expect me to give you my life's savings for a bagel.

While we're at it, I don't want a fruit for breakfast. Or a muffin. It's breakfast. Gimme real food.

Places that would do well to take notice of this post: *cough* Salt Water Cafe *cough* Crepe Station *cough* Mondegar *cough* and many many more.

We Once Had A Maid

2011-02-12T23:11:00.000+05:30

...who told me a crow was her husband. (She fed him with great devotion everyday.)

If this was a philosophical blog, I could talk about how all reality is only a perception, how human beings are complex creatures with bizarre beliefs, and so on.

This is not a philosophical blog.

I see no reason to continue polluting Twitter while ignoring the blog. The blog doesn't ask me to stop at 140 characters.

Hence, hah. I will microblog on a blog. Not a blue site with blue birds and too much blah-blah from journalists.

You Could Build A Mansion

2010-10-26T00:00:00.004+05:30

...or a chalet or a villa.

But it takes Mukesh Ambani to build A Monstrosity.

The Ambani residence

While I will not deny the man his right to construct a 27-storey house that houses 5 family members and 600 staffers, does he have to make it look like that? By that, I mean Tetris Monster, who was born out of a game that ended chaotically in Level 1. Tetris Monster is horribly ugly, has sharp glass teeth and devours innocent little children who get too close to the monster. (He also looks like all your failures at Tetris, merged vertically into a never-ending pillar of gaps and wrong blocks - if you're an adult.)

I'm sure the monster, in reality, is a shiny building with so many lights burning at any point of time that even the average mindnumbed 5-year-old will look up from his game on Mommy's iPhone and go, "Au!" happily. But show him a picture of the same house (as shown above) and he will probably spend the rest of his life in terror of Tetris in particular, video games in general, and shapes in... er... even more general.

And to the parents of the one kid in a thousand who likes this picture, please please please don't let him be an architect when he grows up?

What is with

2010-09-30T20:32:00.013+05:30

...Ms. Dutt's makeover?

What spawned an entire generation of FabIndia-loving, consciously artsy-looking, asexual but appealing journalists is now wearing some kind of a bob, getting her face made up and looking somewhat Chinese.

I'm sorry, but I liked the earlier one better. Non-airbrushed, hardly wearing jewellery and definitely not wearing makeup all over her face.

Of course, like everyone else, I liked the earlier one better also because she wasn't discussing futile issues, trying to incite people, fingering families of dead people and creating drama where there was none.

I also liked the earlier one better because it was as if you can't figure if she fitted the stereotype so well, or the stereotype came from her - you know, Stephen's education, journo scholarships, coverage of something really important, breaking the glass ceiling, care-a-damn attitude about how it seems to have someone with a pimple reading the news to you, the willingness to go anywhere and do anything for news that matters, so on and so forth.

Ah well. There's always been, and will always be, Prannoy Roy.

Oh, have I mentioned that I resent (and when I say resent, I mean resent!) the fact that she allows herself to be made distinctly fairer than she is. Because I do.

(Image courtesy NDTV and Femina (duh!))

Bad movies are useful when there's nothing to blog about

2010-08-08T20:21:00.006+05:30

There are only two reasons you should watch Aisha. One is Amrita Puri, much easier to fall in love with than Sonam Kapoor. The other is that Abhay Deol gets to wear the nicest clothes that any film producer ever gave him, and looks absolutely wonderful.

If you want anything other than these 2 things (a movie, for example) then you will be disappointed. Because Aisha isn't a movie. Aisha is the story of how two rich girls decided that the easiest way to expand their wardrobe (and get money to do it) would be to make a movie and put down all the clothes as costs to the film.

So the film is essentially about shopping (which Sonam Kapoor does all the time) or window-shopping (which you are forced to do all the time, because there is no point in time at which anyone -except Abhay Deol- is normally dressed.)

People get hooked and unhooked to others with alarming speed and by the end of the movie, it almost seems like everyone fancied everyone at some point. I'm sure this isn't true, but at the end of the movie no one really wants to figure out.

Sonam Kapoor seems to have taken over the blonde territory (every movie so far!) at a time when most female actors are trying to find meaningful, woman-of-substance roles. Even the blondeness would be okay if it wasn't so... er... bratty. Or, well, retarded.

The film is also about, well, Sonam Kapoor. Sonam Kapoor eating (diet food), shopping (for designer stuff), talking (mostly bullshit), trying to be cute (ending up looking retarded), gardening (with pearls in her hair), sleeping (with makeup on), fighting with Abhay Deol (and losing pretty badly, because she's dumb and he's hot) and generally making you wish that she would go away and let Ira Dubey, Amrita Puri and Abhay Deol do something useful with a film that seems to be going nowhere, forever.

Many polo matches, shopping trips, blonde women and annoying men later, the movie ends and you can't help being thankful.

I don't know whether the movie is supposed to make you like/identify with Aisha, but if it does, it's probably a case of epic failure.

If it's supposed to give you some kind of exclusive window-shopping experience, it fails rather badly too, because a lot of it looks like the kind of thing that would make even a decent-looking person look fugly.

If it was supposed to show you how the rich/famous of Delhi live, then I'm sorry, but does anyone really care?

If it was supposed to be India's first chick flick, let's face it, we'd rather stick to watching Bridget Jones again. Because Bridget is fat, funny, interesting, has a crazy mom and genuine problems that we can identify with. (FYI, just because your movie is about clothes, it's not a chick flick. Especially if the girls in the audience find the lead actress a complete annoyance.)

*leaves*

So, this new movie...

2010-06-19T23:51:00.003+05:30

Why didn't they just call it i h8 luv storys......!!!?

After all, if the spelling ability of a Rediff commenter is what you're trying to achieve, you might as well do it properly. :)

The Amazing Thing About Facebook

2010-06-19T20:52:00.003+05:30

is that there are things you'd never have known about people you couldn't care less about but they turn out to be so interesting in a OMG-seriously?! kind of way that now there are so many more things you want to know about people you still couldn't care less about.

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Also, um, I blogged. Finally. Yay. :D

This Blog Talks About Movies All The Time!

2010-02-28T21:50:00.004+05:30

I watched Karthik Calling Karthik today. Now, given the fact that there's Farhan in it, there's not much criticism you can expect to see here. To be fair though, even if it was SRK, I'd say it's a decent movie. However, Farhan Akhtar makes it a very good movie. Slow in parts, but that's made up for by Akhtar's acting.

Basic premise everyone knows. Karthik is a loser (who, by the way, is a CA! Haha CAs! Stand up straight, smile, look everyone in the eye and most importantly, look yourself in the eye - and tell yourself, "I'm a CA. Farhan's a CA. So I too can be awesome. QED.") His boss (Ram Kapoor, of Swayamwar fame, dependably OTT but with an interesting snarl) yells at him all day, his landlord annoys him, and the love of his life (Deepika Padukone, absolute *yawn* all over again) doesn't know he's alive.

What's that? How is she the love of his life? Well, like in every 2nd Hindi movie, they haven't spoken a word to each other. But he knows he's in love with her. (These are the same Hindi movies who frown upon lust as a bad thing.) Oh and he writes emails that he will never send to her.

The emails we're talking about, are like the secret dream of a 13 year old girl who reads too much Twilight. Maybe it's as well that he doesn't send them.

But I digress. Yeah, so Karthik boy is a loser until his alter ego steps into his life and helps him take over. So Karthik does, and woohoo, he's become a stud now. Gets the girl, gets a raise, refurnishes his apartment and all is well.

Then he tells the girlfriend about the phone calls, all hell breaks loose, phone freaks out several people, and it goes on. Won't bore you with the details.

What's interesting is that everyone asks Karthik what he does in that office of his. No one asks Deepika Padukone, because her job, apparently, is to walk in and out of the office at irregular hours, wearing designer clothes and looking slim as a willow. Yes, lady, you're pretty. Please put it to some use, will you? Every Deepika Padukone movie sort of merges into the other, or am I the only one who thinks so?

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Also, trailer for Kites. Now I hate (HATE) to say this, but it looks bloody retarded. Hrithik Roshan, for your sake I hope this movie isn't as terrible as it seems. Also, Rehab blogged about how the trailer is just wrong at many levels, and now that I've seen it, I agree.

And If You Think About It...

2010-02-26T00:15:00.002+05:30

nothing is unique.

I'm Setting Up My Own Mob

2010-02-12T19:17:00.002+05:30

And everyone is welcome.

My mob (name suggestions are welcome) basically protests against bad movies. Here's how it works.

The Quality Clause:
Suppose the mob strength at a given point in time is 20. All 20 will watch all movies there exist on the first day of opening. If 20% of the mob (i.e. 4 people) think that "Prince" is bad, we will stone the theatre, the buildings aren't the theatre, burn a few effigies, break a few glasses and force the theatre to stop showing "Prince".

If 20% of the mob thinks SRK should be banned from hamming any more, we, of course, will not allow anyone to screen My Name is Khan, or even, for that matter, Dulha Mil Gaya. As Founder, I have 2 votes, so if even 2 people in the mob have a problem with SRK, I add my 2 votes to that and boom! The only thing you can watch this weekend is Rahul ka Swayamwar re-runs.

The Morality Clause:
If 50% of the mob (i.e. 10 people in the current example) thinks that Hrithik Roshan, owing to the rumours about being unfaithful, should not release Kites, we will shut down theatres that show Kites too. (It will break my heart, believe me, but we're a democracy. Nothing, in fact, is more democratic than a mob where everyone is free to break as many things as they want.)

The Alternate Censor Board Clause:
If 10% of the mob (at the risk of sounding like a math teacher, I mean 2 people here) would rather not watch a particular 'U' movie with their kids, we stone theatres until they start asking for ID proof for a 'U' movie. No, we will not let the children of our country forget their values and watch people kissing in theatres. Let them do that at home when they log onto the Internet.

The Naw-I-Just-Don't-Like-You-Clause:
If 30% of the mob (6 people) don't like Amitabh Bachchan, sorry, Paa gets outta the movie theatres. The only way out, here, is for AB Sr. to issue a public statement saying that he apologises for us not liking him. Then Jaya Bachchan, AB Jr, Aishwarya Rai and Amar Singh all apologise to us for liking him when we don't. Then maybe (maybe) we let Paa get screened.

All proposals for shutting down will be reviewed each Friday and we will ensure that we break, stone and burn at least 2 movies each Friday. Language no bar.

Spread the good word. Whatever our reasons for breaking theatres are, they'll be better than the ones that the Vaanar Sena is currently using. :)

What Can You Say

2010-02-07T22:05:00.004+05:30

About this?

That it is sickening if, even today, girls are being killed by their families for talking to another kid.

That I hope they hang the father, and the grandfather, and anyone else who was part of this.

I hope they cut off each limb and whip them before they hang them.

I hope they stab them - not enough to kill them - just before they hang them.

I hope the hanging is public and covered by the media. Uncensored.

----------

I hope you know it happens in parts of India as well. Google it.

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Dear Movie Makers*

2010-02-03T21:41:00.006+05:30

Will you please stop calling everyone in any damn song any or all of the following:
soniye, mahiya, kudiye, ranjana, soneya, heeriye

Will you kindly also stop using:
hadippa, balle balle, gal, tennu, menu, sadda, tvada, oho, aha

Will you please quit:
fake overdone Punjabi accents for all characters, scenes of lehlehate fields of sunflowers, tractors, bright gaudy silk clothes for background dancers, calling all grandmothers "bebe", calling all children "puttar"

Will you please understand that the following are not mandatory:
a bhangra song, an aged grandmother, dumb happy sardars

And will you kindly:
Do something to undo the wrongs you've done to the people of Punjab by portraying them all to be so dumb and loud (come on, even the frikkin' stars of the movies are loud and dumb)**, realise other states exist, realise that state identity is losing its damn significance anyway (especially when you make cool-hip-oh-so-urban movies), give up on singing the damn glories of khets

No, really. I know Punjab rocks. I know the people out there rock. I know they overflow with kindness, happiness, love, generosity and every virtue anyone ever invented. I know they all sing wonderfully, and dance amazingly, and are the most shiny and beautiful people God ever created. I know that they all supposedly have gore gaal, kaale baal and neeli aankhen - all part of our endearingly racist idea of love and beauty - and they can fall in lowe and express it like no one else. I know the parents are our favourite metaphor of the coconut - tough outside, soft inside, yada yada. I know the fathers are strict, the mothers are confidantes, the fathers come around, the parents are cool. I know lowe is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I know now that if you're Punjabi, you can see a woman's face for the first time and know you're in lowe with her (something that I thought happens only on Orkut). And what's more, the world and its cousins will conspire to help you get her. With a bhangra, a shaadi song, a baraat song, a sangeet song, a khet song, a mother's song and a dosti song somewhere in the middle. And when that picture of Punjabi perfection finally falls into your arms, I know you that tu tvadi jind odi baahon vich bitaana chahida hai. I know everything.

Now that you know that I know, will you please get over it?

Thanks a lot.***

*YRF, Karan Johar, Imtiaz Ali (you're cute dude, but there's a limit) - I mean you
**Come to think of it, I actually know very few smart and quiet ones. Do you?
***Ashutosh Gowariker, I appreciate you casting Harman Baweja as a guy called Yogesh Patel - he's a Yogesh Patel from head to toe, no doubt - but next time, could you do it in a good movie? :)

--------------------------

Updated to add:

Dear Hard Kaur,
When you do that thing -appearing on screen all of a sudden, punching your fists in the air and putting on that mean-girl expression- my eyes and ears fight over who will explode first. Invariably, though, my brain wins.

Dear Gulzar, Prasoon Joshi & Amitabh Bhattacharya,
Thank you.

Dear All,
Why are grandfathers in such short supply? I mean, we seem to have a surplus of grandmothers - where're the grandpas?

Hey, stop defending the education system. Even our universities don't do that. :)

2010-01-16T21:10:00.006+05:30

Human Resource Development Minister Kapil Sibal’s education reforms for Class 10 board exams are indeed visionary. But caution has to be exercised that urban middle class children are not pampered into thinking that anything that causes ‘stress’ is evil and should be attacked and, worse, not be even attempted.

Encouraging students to abuse their teachers, hate their books, throw metaphorical tomatoes at all centres of excellence is to encourage an illiterate lumpen rage against anything that isn’t dumbed down to the shocking level of intellectual nothingness that we seem to be comforted by these days. If our children cannot use proper grammar, if they cannot spell, if they are unable to sit for examinations, if they are unable to speak a language correctly, if they are unable to study because they are turned off by stress, if they are led to believe that all effort is a waste of time, is this the kind of generation we want to rear as future citizens? Saraswati is a gentle goddess. Maybe we need to change our mode of worship, but let's not disrespect her.
Yet, at the core of the film is a dark and troubling cynicism about the future of India’s young. The technicolour fun and games conceals a destructive anger and a condescending disdain for all those across India who may be aspiring to join centres of excellence or study or teach in them. The incredible popularity of the film shows that as a nation we are in no mood to study and are delighted that idiocy is at last legitimate.

----------------

(Read the full article - it's about 3 Idiots - here.)

What troubles me about this is that the opinion is saying, "Yes the education system needs reforms but as students you shouldn't be asking for them."
Or "Ask for them, but nicely"? I'm a little foggy about what the article is supposed to mean.

Several points here:

1. Anything that causes stress in children is evil. (I'm not talking about kids who've left school, but younger ones definitely.) Because at that age it isn't about how stress is a good teacher, or how it teaches you to cope with life, yada yada. Don't be ridiculous. Munnu wants to play.

2. "Encouraging students..."? :) With or without encouragement, most of us are abusing teachers, hating books and throwing tomatoes at those so-called centres of excellence. Maybe it's time to stop treating us like little kids and just get the fact that if something makes millions of young people unhappy and frustrated, it can't be right? Or is that a privilege that is restricted only to adults?

Also, these centres of excellence of yours - many of their students hate them. And these students are supposedly some of the best minds of the country - can they all be wrong?

3. What's so "illiterate" and "lumpen" about the rage against the system? Most students, if you probe, will be only too happy to tell you what changes they want. Yes, we know that many are not possible in a country of this size, but even a beginning will do. There's nothing inarticulate about that.

4. "...is this the kind of generation we want to rear as future citizens?" Probably not. But since when do children (irrespective of generation) turn out to be what their parents wanted to rear them into? :P Frankly, dear woman, what you wish to rear us into is immaterial. Save yourself the worry of what will happen to this nation when we join the workforce. Worry about the number that'll be too burnt out or too narrow-minded or too rule-book-ish when it joins the workforce. More real concerns. It happens every year, in fact.

5. Saraswati is a gentle goddess? Let's not disrespect her? Touching indeed. :D So now, I take it, my beloved Mumbai University is Saraswati? :D

6. What, by the way, is this obsession with centres of excellence? Quite starstruck we are.

7. We're delighted that idiocy is at last legitimate? What's to be delighted - doesn't the existence of our education system prove it? :) It's idiotic and it's been around for generations.

8. This isn't destructive anger. It's more helpless anger. Because the same students who rant against the system and hate the system are still in the system. I am. You are. What's destructive, Ms. Ghose? We're still in this system that you seem so keen to defend. No one's rebelling. No one knows how. And we all assume that it's just for the next year, or two. Then we'll be done with our education, and glad to be rid of it.

Nope, there's nothing destructive. But what's sad is just this - that there's nothing constructive about our anger either. :)

----------------

Just as a general aside - when you want reforms in public health, you'd ask doctors and patients. Infrastructure, industrialists and junta. (Ideally at least). And so on and so forth. How is it, then, that when it comes to education, it's always Kapil Sibal, and school teachers, and PTA members, and child psychiatrists? Why do we forget the people who make up the largest portion of education - students?

Is it because students are expected to hate the system? Do you assume that no matter how good the system is, we'll still hate it? Or do you just not credit us with the maturity to talk about this? What is it?

Because I'm dying to find out why universal student requests (update the syllabus, make it practical, reduce the workloads, focus on extra-currics) - all of which are legitimate and feasible requests - are ignored year after year, while our politicians continue to discuss if there should be 90% quotas for SSC students in Junior Colleges.

Of Manipulative Directors, and Google searches

2010-01-09T12:54:00.006+05:30

Dear Sanjay Bhansali & Karan Johar,

Why this obsession with diseases and illnesses? I can't help thinking that both of you have realised that the only way you can evoke empathy for your characters is to make them dying, barely alive, or people with abnormal lives.

You're both manipulative. You know it. Filmmaking to you isn't about telling a story. It's more a strategy on what works best, and what can bring out maximum tissue paper. With *normal* characters in your films being as insane as a girl who giggles while running over bridges every night, I'm guessing that the only way to make sure the audience doesn't go "Phtooey!" is to have the character on the verge of death, or blind-mute-deaf, or autistic.

I won't bring Paa & Taare Zameen Par into this. They created characters that you can come to like, and can imagine liking even if they didn't have their problems. Now that, dear geniuses, is what you should really be doing.

I know both films will probably work. At least Bhansali's will have a good actor to hold things together. But here's the deal - I don't think either deserves to work. (Yes, even before I see them - that is how biased I am. I think of it as just knowing the 2 geniuses and what they come up with.)

Just a message for you - could one of you go back to doing talk shows, and could the other just find another profession? Thanks. Love you too.

Till the next movie,
Mudra

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W.r.t. the various searches that bring people to my blog:

1. Are Gujjus really serious about marrying vegetarians?
Ans. Yes. You will have to turn vegetarian, or take to eating chicken under your desk at work.

2. How to say I love you in Gujju.
Ans. A line that'll drive the message home forcefully, would be, "I love you more than I could ever love diamonds, stocks, food, Narendra Modi and chaat. Put together!" (The only problem is that he/she won't believe you. Nevertheless, they won't mind.)

3. How to know if you're losing her.
Ans. I'm a little foggy about how this leads you to my blog. Now there are very few things (really very few things) that I don't profess to be an authority on, but this is one of them. Sorry boss. Try asking Dear Diana. (2nd Dear Diana joke in a week.)

4. Ischool ke tem pe girl
Ans. Yes, right-thinking minds laugh at this song. I'd linked it years ago for a laugh. Now, though, knowing that there are people out there who actually took that song and its people seriously - that opens up a whole new world. You think email and communication and Wiki are why the internet is amazing? No. The internet is amazing because once upon a time, only people in Jharkhand/Bihar knew of this song.

Now imagine you're someone who grew up in Bihar in the early 90s. Then you got educated, and you left the homeland for colleges in other states of the country. You became an engineer. You took the foreign university entrances, you made it to an Ivy League for an MBA. Your family was overjoyed. The cup of kheer runneth over. You left for Stanford, leaving your mother teary-eyed, your father proud, and all the villagers couldn't stop talking about, "Ramu vilayat jaavat rahi, tum sune?"

You settled into Stanford life. You aced everything. Then, one day, early in January, you're sitting in your dorm room. It's been 7 months since you came to Stanford - 7 months that have been rewarding to say the least. But it's cold as hell outside. And suddenly, you begin to miss everything. You miss the warmth, and the smell of earth. You miss animals. You miss the singing, and dancing, and the weddings. You miss the language. You miss the colours, the smells, the feeling of home, the laughter.

You have 3 options.

1. You could cry and let it out.
- But as research has shown, most people don't cry alone. Even your tear glands get the concept of "utter futility".

2. You could call home.
- This costs a bomb. Plus all that will happen is that your mother will ask you if you're eating enough, your father will tell you to beware of foreign girls, etc. Somewhere, you might begin to cry. And that will only make them panic like never before, imagining that you got beaten up by racists, and then you failed a course.

3. You could log onto YouTube and watch Ischool ke Tem Pe. With its shots of scenery from your childhood, the actress who was your first crush, the school uniforms that remind you of your own, and that strong belief in romances (from which, incidentally, springs your desire to send "wil u b my frand" scraps on Orkut just to relive your childhood)... You get a taste of home which also leaves you... *ta-da* happy.

-----------------------

Disclaimer: Bihari stereotypes all in fun. For the record, I'm a fan of Ischool ke Tem Pe, Yun na Sharma, Altaf Raja in general, Ravi Kishen, Nagma, and anything Bhojpuri that comes on TV. :)

Updated to add: Recommended reading for the week.

Farce

2010-01-05T20:09:00.000+05:30

If you get ToI, you've probably seen this ad today, for a project called Aman ki Asha which ToI is spearheading:

Friends are different. Enemies are the same.
No two friends are the same.
They feel differently, talk differently, dress differently, love and even hate differently. And still stay friends.

It is said that the most beautiful thing about friendship is that two people can grow separately without growing apart.

Enemies on the other hand are almost always similar. They share the same intensity of hatred, suspicion, betrayal and revenge on both sides of the battle line. Which is what makes them enemies.

So here's a question. Why is it, that we cannot have differences with our neighbours without making them our enemies?

Yes, we are being naive here. But being intelligent and complex hasn't really got us anywhere.

So we're going to make a start.
Again. With Aman Ki Asha.

A brave new initiative by The Times of India and Pakistan's Jang Group to bring the people of two fine nations closer together. Culturally, emotionally and peacefully.

A people-to-people project, Aman ki Asha is an open platform for a series of cross-border cultural gathering, business seminars, music & literary festivals and citizen meets.

So that the human bond that binds all people gets a chance to survive outside the battlefields of politics, terrorism and fundamentalism.

And lets us celebrate the simple truth that we can have differences. But still be friends.

First off, I had no clue that being attacked by people who find support in a neighbouring country is called "having differences" with said neighbour. "Having differences," in fact, is one of those phrases (not working out, not seeing eye to eye, there is a certain something, etc) which say something without meaning anything.

This is probably being released in Pakistani newspapers by the Jang Group as well. (If it isn't, I absolutely can't see why such guarded language would be used where you miss the issues completely and try to talk about emotional faff.)

There are a few hundred levels at which this thing just seems wrong, so let me outline a few basic things here.

First, India doesn't need peace the way Pakistan needs peace. Yes, I know, politically incorrect, everyone's supposed to need peace, etc etc. Point is, with larger armies and more funds, we're likelier to win wars if it ever comes to that. Which Pakistan knows. Hence it has never come to that.

Instead, Pakistan harbours *international* terrorists who take turns at trying to blow up parts of India. Then, when those terrorists are traced back to Pakistan, the President "strongly condemns" them, and also states that "these terrorists are not in Pakistan." Later, when they are found there, the country starts a trial... which releases them.

Now, seriously, not only do we have better forces, we also have the moral upper ground. What more d'you want, dudes?

Second, we can grow separately without growing apart? Come on, people! What did you recycle to write this ad, Dear Diana's letters?

(Also, our growth isn't going to shoot up if we start trading. It might help the GDP a little if they stopped bombing us, though.)

Third, being intelligent and complex has got you nowhere, so now you'll be naive. Really. Being intelligent and complex has at least saved us from believing that Kasab was roaming the beaches of Bombay the day before the siege.

Fourth, you really want more tolerance? Because right now our country is one that Gandhi would be proud of. We have successfully turned the other cheek for a few decades now. Clearly, though, that doesn't satisfy ToI. The next step is to slap ourselves in the face and smile while doing it.

Finally, the people-to-people interaction. Now I appreciate this. And I genuinely think it's good. My only question here is, does it lead to any tangible benefits in the next decade? (Both countries, being democracies, are about electing a bunch of nuts who don't really know what the people think but who have their own priorities - money, power, fame - clearly set. Which means that we'd be better off getting them to play rummy with each other every week.)

Hey, hey. Start a people-to-people interaction by all means. Just don't market it as the damn media initiative that'll lead to peace. Because it won't.

I know ToI specialises in BS of the extreme kind. But consider this. A month ago, the same newspaper was shrieking about how Kasab is still on trial, how the peace process can't continue this way, etc. Now, just because they managed to tie up with a Pakistani media group, love thy neighbour?

What d'you think the people are? Naive?

Bits of Hatred - Instalment #4. I Dislike You Instantly If...

2010-01-03T21:19:00.006+05:30

...You wear sunglasses indoors.

...You wear sunglasses at all (guys).

...You can't do a thing by yourself (specifically girls). Yes, we all know that a particular brand of helplessness is always attractive to the alpha male (or any male) but seriously, stop degrading yourself.

...You are a dumb person who thinks he's smart. (Yes, unfortunately, it's always 'he' in these cases - I haven't yet come across a blonde who thinks she's smart.)

...You are nosy.

...You are oversweet. (I.e. you treat people whom you've only just met like your bhais and behens from a previous janm *raaaaaz pichhle janm kaaaa*)

...You're chirpy. Now don't get me wrong. Yes, I'm grumpy most of the time. But I do recognise and appreciate genuine cheerfulness when I see it. It's just that that particular version of cheerfulness where you're likely to say, "Oh look! A volcano just erupted! Isn't that fa-a-a-b?!" - it kinda nauseates me.

...You talk about yourself. Seriously, man, get a blog for that. Look at me. I give you the option of not knowing, right?

...You are a couple that wants to tell me everything. (And when I say "couple" and "everything" together, please understand, this means everything! Everything about each, everything about both, everything about what they do, everything about what they don't, everything they think, everything they feel... Seriously, people. Stop. Take a deep breath. Shut up. [Yes, I'm the next Vidhu Vinod Chopra.])

...You make noise in a theatre / airplane. Really, those are the worst places you could choose. Former, because no one wants to hear you. Latter, because people have enough problems just being in an aircraft without listening to you talk.

....You're on a bicycle.

...I think that's it.

Come on. What's your list? :D

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I understand that this post departs from the Bits of Hatred format by covering a large variety of people. But I just had to vent. :)

Also read Vir Sanghvi's column about the Bhagat-Chopra fiasco in today's HT (it's not up on the HT site yet, will update when it is).

Update: Here it is. Still not on the HT site - link via Rahul.

You Must Be a CA Student If...

2009-12-13T16:36:00.006+05:30

- When someone says "UPA", you don't think of Manmohan Singh, or Sonia Gandhi, or the United Progressive Alliance.

- When you talk to people studying anything else and complaining about how tough it is, you just about manage to adopt an understanding expression. In your mind, though, you're going, "Blah blah blah blah blaaaaah!"

- When you see people in cafes on weekday afternoons (if you happen to be commuting from one office to another - and of course you do that a lot) you get this feeling of jealousy. So you console yourself by thinking that 3 years down, you'll have paisa and they won't. Somewhere in your mind, of course, you know that's a lie.

- You're in Andheri East or at Dadar at 7 a.m.

- You're at Andheri or Dadar station at 10 a.m., running.

- You pretend to like what you're doing.

- You can fool non-finance people into believing that you know everything there is to know about taxes, the law, costing, and management.

- You don't fool anyone in your office.

- But you don't care, because everyone uses Google.

- You don't understand most of the budget. But you pretend you do.

- You care more about Kangna Ranaut than the Economic Times. But you won't admit it. Ever!

- You get a secret joy out of making people twice your age run around for you because you're an "auditor". (And the fact that they hate you is something you are proud of.)

- If you're in Bombay, you're Gujarati or Marwari. You could be a South Indian or a Maharashtrian, but you'd just be an oddity then.

- You tell younger people not to pick CA. You forget that someone else told you that, 3 years ago, and you didn't listen.

- You know who JK Shah is. Heck, over the years, his building has become your home.

- You complain about how much CA classes cost. But you won't enrol for the Insti's coaching.

- Your wardrobe of casuals has 5 shirts. That sustains you without repetition for over a month.

- You're in college. At least, well, according to the college's records you are.

- Every place you pick to go to with other CA friends is located near a railway station. Always. (Unless it's Sunday.)

- Your idea of a Sunday is to wake up late and not do anything. Needless to say, JK Shah and college ensure that that won't happen.

- You laugh at college exams and the level of the university's teaching. But somehow, you never manage to ace any of those exams.

Non-articles (yes, that's what we are, don't run from the name, what can you do, it's there, it'll stick) you won't get most of this. It's okay. You're in a good place in life, believe me. :D

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Updated to add: Inspired from here.

Return From The Dead - Umpteenth

2009-11-05T19:31:00.009+05:30

You go off on a vacation for 6 days, you come back, you read your email, you check Facebook, you transfer your pictures from cameras and phone cameras to the PC, you catch up on the blogs you read... And you're ready for a vacation again. :P

Enough has been happening, but most of it is not stuff I will put up here. Actual reason for not posting here is simply that I have nothing to write about. Ta-da! That's it. I don't right now either, but hey, I like attention, and if I stop posting, you stop commenting, and we can't have that happening, can we?

In the meanwhile:

I'm on Twitter. Do not follow. There is nothing to follow. The day that account has stuff for you to read, I will unveil (!) it here. Properly. With just the right amount of self-praise and deprecation.

I'm also watching Bigg Boss 3. Just like all of you. Oh c'mon. You do. Yes? *nudge* Don't you? *nudge* Of course you do. *nudge*

Which is why I draw your attention to the sheer brilliance of a show where Raju Srivastava tells Rohit Verma, "FD? [Fixed Deposit i.e.] Tere FD mein dupatton ke alaava kuch hai?" This, fresh on top of some legen -wait for it- dary (Yes, I've fallen prey to that sitcom as well) bai-acting from RS, megalomania from Vindoo, mood swings from Mr Irani, desperate Hindi-cramming from Claudia Somethingortheother, much tobacco-chewing by Ismail Darbar and absolutely wonderful la-di-da behaviour from Poonam Dhillon. This Bigg Boss kicks every previous Bigg Boss' posterior. (Have seen 1, haven't seen 2, but that's neither here nor there.)

Promos for 3 Idiots are out. I lowe. It has all the effervescence of a mainstream college flick. (Also I really like all 3 lead actors since a looooong time. Not as much as the more obvious ones - but there's something very endearing about Sharman Joshi & Madhavan.) God knows what the movie's like, though. A small voice in my head is going, Whatever it is, it can't *ruin* the book. Though you have to admit - there's something about a guy who can make an entire generation read something, even if it's just 1 book in 10 years.

Meanwhile, vacation picture:

Aaaaaand what else?

PS. Blog is 3 years old. (And a few months, but I just realised so, er, whatever.) Mail your chocolates, food, Hrithik Roshans and so on to me. I'll pass them on to the blog. While exercising my discretion, of course.

And You Are?

2009-10-03T21:07:00.009+05:30

Me: Hi, I'm Mudra.
Person: Oh okay. And you are...?
Me (nonplussed): Mudra...? [Mentally - "A girl?" "A CA student?" "A college student?" "Confused?"]
Person: No, I mean, what are you?
Me: Oh, I'm an intern.
Person: No, no, I know that, but... what's your surname?

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Why do all movie theatres have plush entrances and escalators, and then want you to exit via a crowded narrow staircase with zero ventilation?

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Who likes Govinda? Yes, I know it is considered extremely downmarket to admit it, but come on, don't you? Who else can do Kendi Paw! and Aunty No. 1 and itniii-khushi and amorous-chacha roles?

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And oh oh. Who gives 12 (twelve!) Priyanka Chopras to 1 Harman Baweja?!

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Will someone get The Perfect Bride off air? I know, democracy and free market and all that, but duuuuuuuuuude!

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Oh and I watched about half an hour of Gunda. Man!

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I'd get on Twitter if it was called something else. I'd also be able to tolerate zoozoos if they were called something else.

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Thought For The Day

2009-09-29T19:55:00.003+05:30

The true test of character isn't how well you stand up for yourself. Standing up for yourself, in most cases, is just self-preservation - not necessarily bravery. The real test is whether you manage to stand up at all for someone else.

Things Every Person Should Know About The Harbour Line

2009-09-04T22:26:00.003+05:30

1. If you can't cuss in Marathi, you should stand on the station and help people get onto the train that you want to get on.

2. The normal rules of civilisation (e.g. allow people to alight first and then get on) which you learnt on WR do not apply here. Whether you want to get on or get off, elbowing and pushing and screaming is the way to go.

3. Your shoulder bag is your weapon. Use it on people's faces.

4. Never, ever, let anyone go without a fight. Not only will you release your pent-up feelings, the others in the compartment will get some good old-fashioned masala entertainment. They can't turn their heads to look at you (because their necks are jammed between people's arms) but they will be able to hear "Maa-baap pe mat jaa!" and "Yedi" and so on. [Yes, Ladies dabba. Makes you wonder what happens in the general.]

5. If you're the kind who wonders why pedicures are important and why people can't take care of their own feet - travel on the Harbour line on a rainy day.

6. Don't count on anything. Trains may not stop where they are supposed to.

7. Use hair oil. It's the easiest way to express your hatred for womankind.

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Among other news, I'm extremely gratified to find that Google searches for "ketan parekh birth chart" and "Jamvanu su chhe" have led people to this blog. I hope you are not disappointed. Aavjo...

Just a Thank-You Note

2009-09-03T19:16:00.004+05:30

Dear God,

Thank you for helping me pass The Exam. (CA Level 2, for the rest of you)

I promise you, in return for you aseem kripa (because I don't see what else this could be), for the final level, I will be a good girl.

I will spend more time inside class than at the bookseller (who sells great fiction at good prices, by the way!) outside class.

I will not write down hilarious grammatical and logical errors made by profs at the back of my book for future reference. I understand that when I say they will help me remember better, I am actually just being a hypocritical child who wants cheap entertainment - not just now, but 5 months later too, when I will turn to the back pages of my book first to see what I wrote.

I will focus on the subject matter of my books. I will not write "LOL!" in the margins and flip through the book looking for LOLs.

I will not proofread. Pointless, and too much fun, really.

I will make notes. I will not hopelessly underline things I shall never read again.

I will read. I will not launch into what-if situations of great amusement but little productivity.

I will solve problems. Will not stop solving halfway, and write "Aaargh" in large letters over the page.

I will wake up.

I will not land up in Prithvi Cafe when I'm supposed to be studying.

I will not buy books I don't end up using.

I will not photocopy sections of textbooks 2 weeks before the exam, hoping to read them, and never managing to.

I will not question your existence by the logic of if-this-course-exists-it's-obvious-you-don't.

That's it, really.

Love,
Mudra

I Have Seen Very Little of This Show But...

2009-08-18T20:19:00.007+05:30

what strikes me as funniest about Iss Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao is that:

People on screen talk in English
|
|
v
Their lines are translated into Hindi
|
|
v
The translated Hindi line is written on the bottom of the screen
|
|
v
In English.

(Y'know, the English alphabet. Like if someone says I'd never eat that, what appears on the bottom of the screen is Main kabhi woh nah khaati - as opposed to मैं कभी वो नही खाती। - More power to Blogger, Hindi publishing etc.)

Check it out. Like, dude, exactly whom are you simplifying things for? The junta that knows only Hindi, but can read English?

The Great Thing About Saturdays That Are Public Holidays...

2009-08-15T21:25:00.000+05:30

is that when they end, you still have a whole Sunday. Such wonderfulness, I tell you.

...

2009-08-15T18:32:00.000+05:30

Thought for the Day: Why do blogs see a dip in activity on weekends, especially Sundays and public holidays?

Look at it logically. You're working on weekdays. So what are you doing? Blogging at work?! Or coming home all tired, and saying, "Okay, lemme write a hilarious post about Salman Khan!"

Is it the fact that on weekends you're not frustrated enough with your life to blog? Or maybe you're just sleeping?

How about the fact that even readership (i.e. number of hits) is higher (!) during the week. Which explains what your boss has suspected forever. That none of you are working, really.

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I'm on my way to taking this blog back to what it was. Regular, short and devoid of sense/reason almost all the time.

I'm saying this now because making the disclaimer takes away:
- the guilt that usually goes with badly written pieces,
- the need to think before I write,
- the need to be politically correct,
- the need to be correct at all,
- the need to please an audience (!),
- the thinking and re-thinking before blogging

This feels good. :) Have a nice weekend. :)

Bits Of Hatred - Instalment #3. Pseudo-bookworms. (And, well, it's a random post as usual so there's some other crap also to read.)

2009-08-06T23:26:00.003+05:30

I read Kim's post on books and it's got me thinking. My own reading habits are pretty much going downhill. Tragedies, I can't stand. Horror, I abhor. Philosophy makes me puke. Hardcore romance I've always avoided anyway.

Which, really, leaves me with Jeffrey Archer, John Grisham, a couple of classics, a few Somerset Maugham short stories... and, well, the standard Christies and Wodehouses and 'Yes Ministers' and Douglas Adams and so on, but that's different.

Don't ask me what happened in the last Jeff Archer or John Grisham I read. I won't remember. And believe me, with all the authors I've just mentioned, once you've read enough of each, every piece of fiction seems pretty much same as the other.

Why, then, is popular fiction so... popular? To draw a (horrible) parallel - they're like David Dhawan movies. Sab same hai, you can laugh once and waste time without getting emotionally or mentally involved, and walk out feeling like it was worth the cheap price. (Note to everyone - buy these second-hand. [I would say pirated, but that's unethical, y'know? Bad people do that. *hides her books*])

And while I'm on books (this was a point that actually occurred to me while reading the post I linked), and well, as usual, I get lost in my own train of thought and come where I'm supposed to later and...

Ah the point is - know those people who make a parade of being "voracious" readers? I. Can't. Stand. Them. (Mainly because of their attitude. And at this tiny level because "voracious" is such a ridiculous word, really.)

Buy books. Don't break away from a group of friends to go into a bookshop because you want "this book on Tao philosophy, you know, like, it's supposed to be, like amazing?!"

Don't announce loudly to everyone that you'll "just be back in a minute" and then spend an hour in there deliberately making it look like you can't tear yourself away. When we come in, we find you stuck on stationery. (Hey, I'm all for stationery, don't get me wrong. Just say you want purple pens. I like 'em too.)

Don't bring books into random conversations that have nothing to do with them. Don't lie about what you're reading / want to read / have read. Sooner or later, someone will figure out.

Don't announce every book you begin to read. You're going to lose steam halfway through, and on my bitchier days, I will make sure I ask you, "So, you finished that book you started 2 months back?"

Do not recommend a book that is bullshit but sounds *fundoo*. Someone will pick it up some day and curse you and your pathetic taste.

If you ask me to recommend something, and I ask you what kind of stuff you like usually - please, please, please do not say "Arre everything yaar." Books aren't dessert.

Aunts who will ask me what their kids *should* read -I've talked about this before- will you please leave them alone? When I was a kid, I took instructions from no one and read whatever came my way. It's simple, really. Goosebumps if they want, Sweet Valley High if they want (both absolutely disgusting series', but who am I to say?) Nothing if they want. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Get it? Nothinggggg. It's better if little Pappu grows up reading Bombay Times and likes you for it, than if he reads Thomas Carlyle and hates you -and me- for it.

(By the way, I believe the good old Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew and what-not are being replaced by these stupid American high-school romances and bully-stories. Oh, and golliwogs in Blyton are considered racist. WTF moments like these make me feel very very old. Such is life. Take me into a Scholastic exhibition and I will cry. [Scholastic, I love you guys - you gave me money and all - but your selection... *shudder*]).

I realise this post is more about my intolerance than anything else. But then, intolerance is what our world is based on, so I'm allowed to add my two bits, am I not? Thank you.

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No, I don't know when I'll post again.

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No, I don't think you should watch Love Aaj Kal.

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No, I don't really mourn for Michael Jackson.

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Yes, I do think Obama stole the campaign chants from Bob the Builder. (Bo-o-o-ob the Builder - Yes, We Cannn!)

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Please feel free to rant in the comments section. (Not that I need to tell you lot that now.)

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PS - How many of you think a move to Wordpress is a good idea? How many of you love this blog (with its BS posts and lame colour scheme) too much to let go and will cry into your pillow every night if I move?

The Dummies' Guide to Driving

2009-06-20T22:18:00.011+05:30

(I've been driving for 2 years or more now. On Bombay roads. And I've had zero accidents. That ought to tell you how good I am. :D)

1. Everyone on the road should have been placed in an aslyum 17 years ago.

2. There is no such thing as a sidewalk/footpath. The road, lanes and parking space are all extensions of a footpath. So even if someone is crazy enough to walk in the middle of the road and you bump into him - you're a drunk driver and ought to go to jail.

3. If you have an accident, it doesn't matter who did it. All that matters is who is richer. If you're in a car, for example, and you hit a pedestrian (no matter how deranged he is), you did it. If you're in a Mercedes and you hit a bike that was speeding like nobody's business on a busy street - you did it. So it's also good to keep in mind - if you are a really bad driver, it's best to drive around Juhu. You'll crash into a rich dude and make him pay for the repairs because the crowd that gathers on a hot afternoon, well, just hates him, in his AC car.

4. The horn does not say "Let me go first" or "Move on" or "Choose a lane and stick to it, goddamit!" (Though those are interpretations.) The horn is simply a power tool. Whoever toots it first can do whatever the hell he wants, and later say, "Arre lekin horn toh bajaya! Sunayi nahi deta kya?" (People will justify anything from cutting lanes at 80 kmph to crashing into you, with this line.)

5. Children will run across roads like it's their playground. So when you see anyone below 15 years even 10 feet away, slow down. A child being halfwitted is still not reason enough to land him in hospital. Also note that if a person playing gully cricket runs backwards towards you to take a catch, you must at least stop, if you don't have the heart to cheer.

6. An upraised hand means stop. It doesn't matter if someone puts their hand up at the exact minute when the signal goes green. You wait for them to amble across their property (you're just a trespasser on the roads, you honking irritating creature) and then you drive on.

7. Zebra crossings are paint on roads, and nothing more.

8. Every time someone waves their hands at you furiously in a "WHAT THE HELL" gesture, you do it right back.

9. Your prime enemies are: Buses, trucks, bikes, scooters, bicycles and pedestrians. The 1st 2, because they own the road. The last, because no matter what they do, you will be blamed for the consequences.

10. An autorickshaw can fit anywhere. Period.

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Hellew, yes, I'm back. Major thanks to the people who told me to blog. I have such dedicated readers. Aww. I love you all, and there's lots of India TV, SRK-bashing, AB-phooing, crap-discussing coming your way.

And since I'm back after exams, here's a thought on my education - or anyone's, for that matter (and because I'm back after exams, duh, it's got to be scientifically presented):

(Click for better resolution)

Random Thought of the Day - (I know elections are over and all that, but I'm blogging after so long, no?) The Bachchan parivaar supports Samajwadi Party, yes? So leave aside the fact that they would vote for a party that's going, "Down with computers, down with English!" (How come no one shouts, "Down with Karan Johar!"), considering they live in Andheri, do they vote for Abu Azmi?
(I realise that I just discussed the Bachchan parivaar's voting tendencies. This clearly puts me just half a notch higher than India TV which has an all-consuming interest in AB Sr's cough.)

You Must Be a Gujju If... (Non-Gujjus, please ignore)

2009-03-24T21:21:00.009+05:30

- You have at least 1 relative in the stock market.

- You're never worried about what happens if you get stranded in Ghatkopar. All you'd have to do, you know, is walk across the road and find a relative. (Still easier, just shout, "Mama! Masi! Faiba! Kaka!" a couple of times. At least one is bound to be around.)

- You don't worry about being stranded in New Jersey. You've been told by everyone that the thing to do at such a time is to open the telephone directory, turn to "Shah" and call any number for help.

- You measure the success of a wedding by how many people praised the food.

- You believe Narendra Modi is the solution to everything. From your hair to the nation's defence.

- You understand that when someone says "Dhirajbhai no babo" or "Maniben ni baby", the "baba" and "baby" in question could be 40 years old.

- You either think the garba is the coolest thing ever, or you wonder why the whole world makes such a big deal out of it.

- No packing for any trip is complete without thepla.

- Winter = undhiyo.

- Summer = keri no ras.

- Monsoon = have su karvanoo?!

- You assume (in marital situations) that because Mara bhai na vevai ni dikri na sasu gave a recommendation, the person in question is virtue personified.

- You have no problems with love marriages. You just view them as a last resort, that's it.

- You may not donate anything to the orphanage down the road, but when there's a calamity in Gujarat, you send truckloads of money, food and amenities.

- You feel a slight sense of pride in Ketan Parekh, no matter how much you hide it.

- You think the G-U-J-J-U sequence in Kal Ho Na Ho was rather cool, actually.

- You're so attuned to smiling and laughing for no reason at any given social occasion, that funerals become odd for you. (Non-Gujju funerals, that is. At Gujju funerals, everyone has the same problem, so they understand.)

Updated: A few more:
- You know what "doodh cold drink" (pronounced doodh coal dreenk) is.

- Sunday mornings = Gathiya and jalebi. From Trupti, if you live in the suburbs.

- The road outside Borivali Station doesn't scare you to death.

(Check out comments section for more contributions. :D)

This is not a post

2009-03-15T20:14:00.003+05:30

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This is an update, to tell you that I'm trying (hard, very hard) to cut down on internet time.

*points forcefully with grim expression, like Sansani's anchor* Which means that you suffer.

I will try to follow a Sunday-ke-Sunday routine with the internet. Peru does it, and does it well, and I'm inspired.

I will comment on all your blogs, hopefully, next weekend.

I will check your emails, hopefully, next weekend.

I will reply to all your wall posts, hopefully, next weekend.

I will reply to all the notes, status messages, and every-other-piece-of-addictive-Facebook-crap, hopefully, next weekend.

Yes, I now may not reply to comments on my blog. Yes, I am trying hard not to blog at all. Yes, I'm advising you to not comment on this post because, really, there's nothing to comment about.

Until then, I leave you with a generic comment for all your blogs:
"Awesome post!! Brilliant work!!"

No, really, I do love all the blogs on my sidebar. :) May your tribe increase.

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Oh, and the picture for the week:

Maybe this auto is jointly owned by SRK and Amitabh Bachchan?

I Don't Post So Often But...

2009-02-28T19:30:00.006+05:30

...This astounds me. Highlight of the article:

Recently, the government also asked the education department to start distribution of uniforms to students of Std I to IV. The uniforms are for Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh, Christian, Jain and Parsi students studying in government-approved all aided/non-aided primary schools.

Someone tell me it's a typo. Or a mistake. Or that the person who took the decision was stoned when he signed, but thankfully some babu (who miraculously happened to be around and not asleep) noticed and got it cancelled.

It's blindingly obvious to anyone who lives in Bombay or India that purely from an economic perspective, Parsis, Jains and Sikhs are much likelier to have the money (or their own charities to fund them) to buy uniforms as compared to Hindus.

Politically incorrect? How politically correct is what the State Government is doing? Screw politically correct, what about ethically correct?

What I really want to know is if they can come up with a reason for this. Help me out on this one. How do you justify this? Hindus are the majority, and we have budgetary constraints, so we'll just cover the minorities? Or the famous we-must-protect-our-minorities line? Or have reservations been extended to minorities sometime recently while the nation was sleeping?

No, I'm not a VHP person. I'm not even one of those people who shouts, "Hindus are the true minorities now!" from the rooftops, because I don't believe that. Yes, minorities have been discriminated against in the past. But we're talking uniforms and money here, aren't we? And anyone in this country will readily admit, poverty hits everyone. Except Shah Rukh Khan.

At times like these, you begin to wonder if there's really any difference. Which party is in power, who the CM is, who the Education Minister is, which idiots make up the Legislative Assembly. It's all the same dirty politics, isn't it? Religion-based bribes to the parents of little kids by scumbag politicians who wouldn't be doing this if they even understood what education means.

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...

2009-02-27T23:03:00.005+05:30

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Every time I read portions of The Namesake, what blows me away the most is that it's written so effortlessly in present tense.

I'm on a Jhumpa Lahiri OD... again. I really need to find new authors.

And to all and sundry, please read books before they're made into movies. That way, you're buying them when they still haven't had beautiful cover designs replaced by film shots.

Anyone care to talk about how the books-vs-movies thing affects you? Even when the movies are really well-made, I feel a faint sense of being cheated, because now I won't ever be able to visualise the book the way I did before I watched the movie. Right from what a character looks like to what a situation feels like - it's made so tangible and visible by a movie that it takes away the depth to some degree. The answer should be to not watch them at all, of course, but curiosity is a powerful thing.

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Why I Love My College

2009-02-17T18:38:00.010+05:30

...Because people do this to notices:

(Pardon my lousy censoring.)

...And because advertisements like these are found randomly lying on canteen tables:

(Wouldn't you kill to be part of movies such as these?!)

Images courtesy: Prerna Lalwani, Apurva Chaudhari (that's her hand :D), me.

Yes, it's fun to be in college all day. Even if it is to study in the "liabrary". One sneaks into neighbouring colleges gleefully, rejects their coffee disdainfully (?), and eats gluttonously.

Added later: When in the neighbouring college, one sees that there's an extra floor marked with "P" between floors 2 and 3, and the conversation proceeds thus:
Me: What's P for?
Peru: Dunno. Umm...
Me: Paune-teen?
Yes. Every once in a while, I can compete with the worst of the PJ Kings.

"And may I add, one barges into their 'P' floor, makes friends with the liftman & calls the coffee man a pervert, sits on the footpath & bitches about JCs with waxed chests, whistles at boys, tries to break into the terrace, buys 7 coloured pens.. Oh good God this list is unending. I'll miss this gravely.."
- Prerna Lalwani, partner-in-crime, in the comments section. I love her comment enough to put it here. Go, Peru!
[Er, I mean she said it in the comments section and she's the partner-in-crime (among others) in college.]

I Blog Therefore I Am

2009-02-15T18:41:00.003+05:30

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To those of you who have not seen Dev D yet (and who don't have issues with cussing/substance abuse/other stuff on screen)... Please do.

To those who would rather see Billu (Barber) than Dev D, please don't.

To those who wouldn't see either, keep your halo safe.

To all, I hope you're all well and are coming back to this blog forlornly, saying, "Why no new post? I want new post. I'm dying to read."

To those about to take exams, all the best and may you survive.

To those frustrated with work, grin and bear it. Recession hai, you oughta be thankful you still have jobs.

To those frustrated with neither exams nor work, if you exist, please leave a comment.

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No, that's all. Really. Now go read something that makes sense. :)

...

2009-01-30T13:46:00.008+05:30

I louwe (really lau, in fact) Prasoon Joshi.

No, seriously.

Update: For this also. Now I really want to know where he comes from - this cannot be a city-dweller speaking.

Update 2: No wonder. Almora, Rampur, Ghaziabad. :)

Update 3: Divya would kill to be the subject of Dil Gira Dafatan. Me, I'm not choosy. I'd kill to be the subject of Dil Gira Dafatan or Rehna Tu.

Update 4: Before anyone asks, no, I have no desire to be the subject of Masakali. It's a wonderful song, yes, but anyone who knows me also knows my great hatred for pigeons. You put Farhan Akhtar in a room, and a pigeon in its window, and I will run out. Screaming. Even if the window with said pigeon is 20 feet away from Absolutely Adorable Akhtar. Yes, I will. Kindly note the "Pigeons." in the description of this blog. (That little white line of words separated by periods on the blue bar above?)

2009-01-19T11:22:00.004+05:30

Rs 10/- lakhs MUST be won, you understand?

In Which We (Temporarily) Say Goodbye

2009-01-03T14:40:00.003+05:30

Right now, it's winter. (Bombay winter, so what? It's the winter I louwe.) It's Jan 3rd. It's a month since I posted, and it will (hopefully) be some more before I post again.

This is not a goodbye post. This is a come-back-when-I-come-back-or-I'll-kill-you post.

This was also a post that was supposed to be about most of this. But Peru is my blogger soul sister and beat me to it. :D

Having said that, we move to ordinary business.

Since every newspaper has a "Highlights of 2008" section, we have one too. Except that it's less serious and more audience-centric (meaning, these are the things you saw in 2008 too. Don't lie, most of you weren't following the economy or the politics in Bangladesh.)
1. Himess released yet another movie.
2. Deshdrohi happened.
3. Rakhi Sawant had only 1 item number.
4. Indian Idol, Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, Voice of India, Nach Baliye and about 6 other reality shows launched their 6th / 7th / 8th / 100th seasons.
5. Barack Obama became President of "the US of A". Much joy was had, principally because we have given up hope for our own politicians, so an intelligent, balanced man being voted to power anywhere makes us feel good - like Paradise still exists. Even if it's not here.
6. All Yash Raj films bombed. (Praise the Lord.)
7. Aamir Khan turned into a rhinoceros.
8. Bombay was under siege, and finally we all woke up and said (apparently), "Enough is enough." Newspapers overflowed with Special Features on what Riya Sen, Parmeshwar Godrej and Subi Samuel thought of the attack.
9. Omar Abdullah became CM of J&K. Go, Omar!

What We'd Like to See in 2009:
1. A Himess movie in which he romances Bappi Lahiri. Or Anu Malik, really, we're not choosy.
2. Deshdrohi in theatres in Bombay.
3. More Rakhi Sawant on TV, yelling about something or the other. C'mon. TV's not TV without her.
4. Something useful from Obama. (No, Barack, "Change" is too generic. We still love you, of course.)
5. More YRF films like Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic (I watched this on cable TV. And to those of you who haven't, I promise you, you don't know what you've missed. Your life won't be complete until you watch it.)
6. A normal-sized Aamir Khan. An SRK-like SRK, as opposed to a funny man in glasses. (I have this uncomfortable feeling when SRK actually acts. The kind of feeling I have when I manage to get a problem right, or when I pour milk from one place to another without spilling it, or when Shobhaa De talks sense.)
7. Less of Raj Thackeray. (Which shouldn't be so difficult considering the man has disappeared post-26/11.)
8. More of Abhay Deol.
9. More of Vikram Chandra on NDTV.
10. More of Sansani! (This is on Star News. Again, those who haven't seen, you don't know what you've missed.)

And the Utter Bullshit Award of the Year goes to... MTV. (I'm sorry, there's just too much here for it to not have its own section).

They started off with Roadies 5. That's fine. High drama, lots of swearing, mock fights, but that's the crap reality TV is made of anyway. We love it.

Somewhere in the middle, Splitsvilla and Teen Drama Queen happened. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank your lucky stars because those were the most cringeworthy shows in recent times on TV. Worse than Big(g?) Boss, Indian Idol & Ekta Kapoor's shows put together.

You'd think they'd have got enough flak from the feminists (and just... humans) after these 2 shows. Apparently not.

They started GTalk. (This apparently stands for Girl Talk. The opening sequence has a bunch of female lips talking excitedly, and the sentence "Kitna mazaa aayega na?!" is enunciated in a way that you'd have thought possible only coming from the friend of the heroine in an 80's movie.)

The show revolved around 2 girls from the *hit MTV show Roadies* - no they didn't win, they were just too hot for the channel to let go of after the show - who set up house in Bombay and interview celebrities at home. It's supposed to be casual, what-girls-talk-about-at-slumber-parties kinda atmosphere.

Except that it's not. Ask me. What goes on at slumber parties is either too boring or too WTF (or too scandalous) to be on TV. They chose boring.

Their celebrities are usually fallen pop stars, starlets, and other VJs. The anchors are bored themselves. The script would put Suhel Seth (on coffee) to sleep.

Also, the whole authenticity thing? Kinda lacking. Because while I hate to break this to some of my readers, girls at home are usually wearing shirts 2 sizes too large, with their hair up in what can't even be a hairstyle, and mismatched shirts and shorts. In fact if they don't have oil in their hair, it's a blessing. They do not - with all due respect to MTV - prance around a bright yellow kitchen wearing bright yellow singlets and perfect navy shorts, with waist-length hair hanging loose.

Yes, I understand, no one wants to see VJs with their hair in a bun. I wouldn't be bringing up this if the rest of the show didn't piss me off so much. Not only is it empty-headed, it's also regressive, stereotypical and pathetic. What in heaven's name could be interesting about Girl 1 telling Girl 2, "I think you've lost a lot of weight..." and Girl 2 tittering and replying, "Yaaaa, but you know, I need to lose more yaaaa..." What, we're making a script out of lines overheard at a cafe now?

Anyway. Having ranted now, I will move on to other things.

I do believe the OOCBC is a success. Comments have risen considerably, and my writing has only deteriorated, so I think I can safely attribute it to OOCBC. Other members, pliss to be sharing feedbacks.

Postlets (as Jhayu calls them) could happen. Full-fledged posts you can expect when I'm back (yes, this is a marketing gimmick. So what?):
- 4 years in college, and 4 seasons of college fests
- The Random Nonsense in CA Class (and why I might just actually miss it!)
- Uday Chopra to Turn Director
- Vivaah - A Movie to Watch
- Renuka Chowdhury ko gussa kyon aata hai?
- Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Why I Hate Him
- Other random ramblings, rants, and some crap. (In short, this blog will be what it has always been for 2 years.)

To everyone... Till next time, then, be good. :)

Crises Bring Out The Best In Our Politicians

2008-12-01T20:10:00.024+05:30

Manmohan Singh

Psychological twin: Vajpayee, towards the end of his tenure. (The same weariness, the same boredom, the same I'm-a-nice-guy-just-don't-expect-too-much-of-me-willya attitude. Give him a break, the man's 76. That's the age when a man should be falling asleep on his veranda while reading The Upanishads [or Stardust, whatever rocks your boat] with his bifocals slipping down the bridge of his nose.)

When he says: Blah blah blah blah blah

What he really means is: Blah blah blah (if I'm monotonous enough, no one will know that I'm not saying anything new!) blah blah

Current status: The real MS seems to be drugged and asleep somewhere, and a robot with an irritatingly soft voice has taken over. The robot, too, will continue to be directed by Sonia Gandhi, so as such, robot or MS, what's the difference. Pshaw.

Shivraj Patil

Psychological twin: Celine Jaitley. (The philosophy is, if you suck at what you do, you ought to at least pay attention to your clothes - they'll draw attention away from your work. Unfortunately, this works for Celina, and pretty much backfires for Mr. Patil.)

When he says: I will resign if that is what the government wants.

What he really means is: Damn you, Sonia Gandhi, for kicking me out. Manmohan bhaisaab, inko kuch bolte kyun nahi?!

Current status: Unemployed.

RR Patil

Psychological twin: Shah Rukh Khan in DDLJ. (H-e-e-e-y, senorita... bade bade deshon mein aisi chhoti chhoti baatein hoti rehti hai...)

When he says (yesterday): There is no question of resignation, that is unnecessary.

What he really means is (today): I am willingly tendering my resignation.

Current status: Unemployed.

Vilasrao Deshmukh

Psychological twin: Are you kidding me? There's only one VD.

When he says: Ram Gopal Verma's presence at the Taj was a coincidence...
What he really means is: He promised to make me his hero! Dammit! Ritu, beta...

When he says: Development took priority over security.
What he really means is: C'mon. You pay more than 50% of the nation's taxes, have some sense. Obviously you can't have both.
*Channel [V] Bai voice*
Itne paise mein bhi itnaich milenga...

Current status: Unemployed, no movie offers, not much goodwill. Aww.

Raj Thackeray

Psychological twin: Your school bully

When he says: ... *silence*

What he really means is: Damn. There goes my region-politics. What to do now? What to do now? Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Current status: The object of a few hundred SMSes and jibes on TV, Mr. Thackery was last seen hiding under his bed and sobbing to himself, "But I just wanted everyone to like me! Mommyyyyyy!"

L.K. Advani

Psychological twin: Moody teenager with a drugs problem.

When he says: Manmohan Singh & I will fly to Bombay together
What he really means is: I'm hoping you're not there at the airport with your cameras tomorrow. I can't stand that guy.

When he says: The nation will stand together at a time like this.
What he really means is: The nation will... but, d-uh, we won't. What? You seriously thought I'd be nice to the Congress for a change? * Walks away humming "Aisa mauka phir kahaan milegaaaa..." *

When he says: Jinnah was secular.
What he really means is: Just like my party.

Current status: Hasn't been this happy since his last rath-yatra. Breaks into a little dance every once in a while.

Narendra Modi

Psychological twin: What a scary thought.

When he says: 1 crore compensation for Hemant Karkare's widow.

What he really means is: Make me PM! Please!

Current status: Continues to rule over Gujarat. Will keep up attempts to barge into other states at crisis-time and shamelessly lie and manipulate, till, of course, he becomes PM. Then he will love all humanity. (Just imagine.)

Mukhtar Abbas Naqvi

Psychological twin: The old fogey in your colony with rather strict ideas on what girls should do, at whom everyone laughs.

When he says: Some women wearing lipstick and powder have taken to streets in Mumbai and are abusing politicians spreading dissatisfaction against democracy. This is what terrorists are doing in Jammu and Kashmir.

What he really means is: The ladies in lipstick hate the government, the terrorists hate the government. We can't control the ladies in lipstick, we can't control the terrorists. Hence, they are the same. (QED, hahahahaha.)

Current status: Was last seen in some press studio being bashed by the media. Was also heard asking the same media to let him stay there for the night. (Lipsticked ladies were waiting outside, you see.)

"In politics, stupidity is not a handicap."

- Napolean Bonaparte

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Because this blog is crap. And because I don't want to trivialise the blasts (any further) by discussing them on this blog.

PS- Something I've wanted to say for a long time. Facebook is a social networking site. Not a Voice of the Youth. Not a platform for change. Facebook exists to provide you your daily quota of entertainment. Not to Save The Earth, or Save Tibet, or Save Mumbai. Because it doesn't do any of those things. Can we start differentiating between our lives on Facebook and our real lives, please?

(Yes, I know blogs don't save anything either. But at least there's the hope that somewhere, someone could just write something that forces you to think.)

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Added later (thanks to Peru & NDTV): If there was any doubt in your mind that our politicians our among the most WTF politicians in the world, we present - the Kerala CM. Sometimes words fail me.

2008-11-27T20:39:00.009+05:30

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I've never really felt that a blog is the right place to write about how terrorist attacks make us feel. My blog, especially, has always been some kind of crap-machine which hardly ever reflects what's really occupying my mind at a given point of time.

Yes, I hate this. I hate knowing that any day, 25 terrorists can just sail into the city with tons of ammunition and enter every landmark and fire at people.

Riots, we're used to. Bandhs, we smile at. Bomb blasts - they've become "usual", recently. Yes, our politicians are spineless. Yes, none of us expected Raj Thackery -so *protective* of Bombay usually- to spring into action or do anything remotely useful. Yes, we knew our security sucks royally, none of us have ever been checked at a station, and we're not surprised that people managed to breach dock/hotel security either.

But bombs in 10 places, a continuing hostage situation in 2 places even after almost 24 hours, and a couple of terrorists who could be on the loose?

It's not about the Congress vs the BJP anymore. It's not about bombs or guns, RDX or grenades. It's not about Indian victims or foreign.

It's really just about terror vs. humanity. The simple fact that you can't keep beating a man over his head without him either hitting back or collapsing. The fact that it's no longer as simple as calling your friends to ask whether they're okay. The fact that the loss of life, even if its not in your immediate circle, is still loss of life for no reason.

And the fact that the tangible damage -people dead and injured, policemen martyred, soldiers in battle, relatives waiting for loved ones- is only a trailer of the real damage this can do - to the psyche of an entire city, and an entire nation.

Because it's our city. Our roads, our hotels, and most importantly - our people.

It's not easy to watch helplessly as fires rage, as blood spatters over roads, as your city crumbles, as people die, as the media speculates and as AN Roy gets emotional and mourns the loss of his men. It's not easy to see the roads deserted, the people scared, the voices hushed, and to hear the sounds of ambulances in the dead of night. All we can hope is that we bounce back. I'm not 16, I can't chant "Spirit of Mumbai" every time something goes wrong. A city is made by its people, and the only thing that holds us together is the fact that we love and need this city and -at some level- each other. If that can override our fears -and I think it just might- we will bounce back still.

This is not something I really wanted to write about. In some way, it feels like a trivialisation of the horrific realities. Do you blog about the loss of a family member? Or have Facebook status messages mourning the person?

Do bloggers, journalists, writers and activists really matter at a time like this? What do they do, except stand at the sidelines and comment? You know how we always believe that the media has the power to influence thought and progress? Does it matter? A bunch of intellectuals analysing situations while people die on the streets? Pardon me for thinking in black and white - but it's difficult not to, at a moment like this.

It pisses me off that the media goes overboard and Barkha Dutt -one of our best- plays manipulative emotional games with relatives of people held hostage. (I've seen her at it before, with a woman who lost her child, prodding and questioning until she got the reaction she wanted. Yes, the media is manipulative. But one would hope that at least some of them would retain some semblance of ethics?) Or when CNN brings in "terror experts" from London (upper-class Brits) to talk about the *trends in terror* while Indians die. Or the obsession of news channels with this being "India's 9/11". Is this what we're reduced to? A nation of spectators, victims, and clowns?

Call me an idealist, but I still believe that this is not who we are - this is not what people are, anywhere in the world. Because after this is over, once the fear and sorrow and shock has faded, hopefully -just hopefully- we won't go back to being cynical.

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Comments are disabled on this post. I just don't feel it's right. Feel free to email me if you have something specific to say.

More (and better) writing, here, here and here.

Coming Back Only To Say...

2008-11-19T21:43:00.000+05:30

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...that The Gender Analyzer (try it on your blog!) says

"We think http://mudramehta.blogspot.com/ is written by a man (83%)."

52%, I could live with. 64%, I could still convince myself. 75% would strain every nerve but I might just retain my equanimity. But 83%?! Gives me the feeling that I ought to be waking up and writing 6-line posts on beer, football, cricket and Salma Hayek.

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PS 1- This entry was published, deleted and now published again. Apologies to Ani, the sole commenter the first time round - I think your comment is lost in cyberspace. And to the rest of you - my blog and I have hit a rough patch in our relationship. Bear with us while we get some counselling. In the meanwhile, for cheap mindless entertainment, there's always India TV, Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Himesh Reshammiya...

PS 2- MS Office 2007 rocks.

PS 3- When we're sleeeeepy... Coffee will keep us alive... (Damn all projects. I'd forgotten what a pain they were. But like so many other painful things, they've been reintroduced to me courtesy the Insti.)

PS 4- My blog layout is kinda screwed up. This is the only template I like, and it allows widgets just on one side.

PS 5- My PSes just got longer than the post. Also, Ani boy, your comment's still here!

Short Post, So What?

2008-10-23T13:12:00.006+05:30

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The easiest way to make a guy do something he doesn't want to do -
"Kyu, teri phat rahi hai kya?" (Inadequate translation: You're scared?)

Also note:
- The number of times this question is asked is directly proportional to the number of guys in a group
- The number of times this question is asked is directly proportional to the stupidity of the action being contemplated by said group

And while the phrase is Indian, I'm sure the sentiment is not. Worldwide, men have done, are doing and will do stupid things because they're provoked by, let's say, the English, or the French, or the Mandarin version of "Kyu, teri phat rahi hai kya?"

Half the wars in the world started because one guy went berserk, and the other guy had people who, instead of giving him ideas on peaceful settlements, were asking him, "Kyu, teri phat rahi hai kya?"

A lot of men gambled, smoked, did drugs and got drunk because someone was asking them, "Kyu, teri phat rahi hai kya?"

A lot of men cheated on their wives because they started asking themselves, "Kyu, teri phat rahi hai kya?"

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PS - What are your happy foods?
(Happy food = Food, the sight/smell of which alone is enough to make you happy. It gives you a sense of fulfilment, a sense of peace, and an enormous appetite.)

Mine are... Idli, aloo poha, cornflakes, corn toast and sandwiches. [Discussing what food I like on the World Wide Web. As you see, this blog is finally going the senile way.]

Anyway, coming back, what are your happy foods? Is my generation still crazy about pizza, or am I middle-aged?

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PPS- All posts with the tag "It's a Gender Thing" are nothing more than light fun. I will poke fun at women too. Be good children and behave yourselves.

2008-10-06T20:30:00.004+05:30

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Why is it always easier to write, than to say? Easier to SMS, email, and IM than to talk face to face or over the phone and say, "I have a problem with you."

Is sarcastic-droll-rude-online me, really me? An image that I can't possibly carry into real life because it's impossible to say some things to a face.

Is emotional-insecure-me-in-person, too much of me? A reality I'd rather not have people figure out.

Is it the fact that some things, said aloud, would sound downright stupid?

Or is it just easier to communicate with a white window than to have to deal with facial expressions?

It's easier to write an email to say you screwed up and you're sorry, right? Maybe because a delayed response means you don't have to deal with emotions in real-time? Or because you know, subconsciously, it will cause more havoc in your mind if your apology is not accepted?

Is the web-interface an easier escape route? To run from difficult situations, hard things, anger, fear, frustration, nostalgia, love and friendship? To pretend nothing, you know, really matters.

Does adding an "lol" at the end of a message make it seem a little less... intense? Is a smiley really the equivalent of an actual smile?

What would make you happier - a heartfelt thank you online, or one in person?

And what would hurt more - a friendship falling apart online, or in person?

What's wrong with it if it is easier to tell someone - family, friends, anyone - how much they mean to you through the written word? As long as it's being expressed in some way.

Are we scared of not being able to express things well enough in person? Or are we scared of expressing them only too well in non-verbal ways?

Is vulnerability really that bad? Is nonchalance overrated?

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Afterthought: What are personal blogs/entries like this? Yet another escape route from emotions? Or simply a medium to express what could be a universal phenomenon, with no solution?

Apologies to the people who came here looking for fun posts. :) Next post will lampoon Yash Raj, SRK, reality TV and anything else you want. :D

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How To Buy Bags

2008-10-01T13:34:00.004+05:30

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The Guy Way:
Think of the number of things your bag has to hold, then go and buy a bag that would accommodate those with some room left over.

The Girl Way:
Buy a bag of any size. Put all your stuff into it. Usually, 2 things can happen:
a. It's too small
b. It's too big
(Note: If it's just the right size, something has to be wrong - colour, pattern, texture, style, strap - and because of this it will be rejected.)

If it's too small, you can carry around only the things you can't do without. To figure out the things you can't do without is a torturous process so you prefer going back to Step 1 and buying a new bag.

If it's too big, you find enough things to fill it up with. Like an umbrella in October. Or books you don't intend to read. Eventually, your bag is populated with things you don't really need, but now you have some weird psychological dependence on their presence around you. You feel incomplete without them. Simultaneously, you're also getting a major ache in the shoulder. So you steel yourself, and go back to Step 1 and buy a new bag.

In all fairness, I think everyone reading this should agree on one thing:
While the guy way is the sensible way to do it, the girl way gives infinitely greater joy to the bag-possessor.

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Disclaimer: This was supposed to be a light post. And before comment trolls come and say it, yes, I am stereotyping, and it's obviously not necessary that this applies to the universe at large.

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Happy (2nd) Birthday to Blog

2008-09-24T10:53:00.003+05:30

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Just realised this blog has been around for more than 2 years now. How? Much like your relative, I have this strong urge to say, Arre-dekho-Munnu-kitna-bada-ho-gaya!!

[ I'd assumed I'd give up in a few months out of boredom. But the thing about blogging is, it's such a perfect remedy for all the people with no lives -people who are bored, narcissistic, self-absorbed, and under-performers in their actual field of study/work (yes, I am all of those, and more)- that it's impossible to quit. What to do? Much like a bad relationship, this blog survives solely because it's a habit, and once in a blue moon, it has its good moments. (Deep, no? :P) ]

Yes, I realise this is a dumbass entry and thanks to all the new sidebars which update themselves automatically, this blog will show up for no reason. As a concession, no one will be blackmailed and bribed into commenting this time round.

Spread the joy.

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Random Thoughts for the Day

2008-09-17T19:13:00.004+05:30

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Only in India: The entire "First Family of Filmdom" (why I hate them is a story we shall leave for the long rainy afternoons) apologises to the Chief Goon of Maharashtra. What for? For Lady B exercising her freedom of speech.

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Observation:
Every couple (and I mean every couple) that has just gone *official* does exactly the same thing:

1. Call confidante [Yes, that'd be me. All the time. No, seriously. I'd kid myself into believing that I'm a *good listener* but I think it's just the fact that I don't get over-interested. It makes people feel safe. Maybe. Humans are strange.]

2. Rave on [No issues here, ab nahi karoge toh kab karoge? :) ]

3. Develop a sudden desire to set up said confidante with various people.

Can't they eliminate Step 3? Maybe it's unconscious. Maybe they want to spread the joy. Very aww individually, but when they all do it unfailingly, it gives you a fascinating insight into human nature - everyone's exactly the same. Single people reading this (there are, what, 2 of you?) does this happen to you too?

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Finally, some gems from our educational system:

It is made clear that an auditor is a watch dog, not a blood hound

- Audit notes
(But either way, he clearly is a dog.)

Internal Control over employees:
...Every member should be encouraged to go on leave at least once a year. Frauds come to light during such a leave period.

- Audit notes again
(So the next time your boss encourages you to take leave - which boss does, by the way? - you will know why.)

A promises B to attend the dinner and fails to attend. This promise certainly does not create a legal obligation on the part of A to enable B to sue A for the price of non-consumed food.

- Law book
(I've always said, Law - the academic portion of it - is the art of stating the blindingly obvious in a mindbogglingly (word?) ridiculous manner. Which host would want to sue a guest for not turning up? I'd be thrilled.)

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Heroooooo... Hero Hondaaaaaaa...
Heroooooo... Hero Hondaaaaaaa...
Dhak, dhak, go!

One word: Eww.

(Disclaimer: The above is not to be construed as a criticism of Tic Tic Roshan. His only fault is bad taste. What do the people at Hero Honda think they are, though? Madhuri Dixit?)

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Yes, this is a fully faltoo blog. What to do, men. Given up the bluddy pretence of creativity also, men. (Fully faltoo se I remember, watch Lost In Translation on MTV. It brings back the MTV we once loved - before Splitsvilla, Teen Drama Queen and other sundry lame shows happened.)

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Social Servant? Here's what you can do.

2008-09-09T19:26:00.003+05:30

Be Blind, To Serve The Blind.

I really want to meet the person who wrote that. Maybe it actually makes sense in some way.

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2008-09-08T20:46:00.005+05:30

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We sit at the same table,
Strangers.
They told me you were wonderful,
That I'd love you from the first moment.
And I wonder now, "Do they even know me?"

Something's missing.
You're not exactly hot, but that'd be fine
If you stimulated my mind.
The ones before you did... and how.
You're too mild... almost nondescript.
There's no... what's the word?
There's no character to you.
And I hate to be trivial, but... the way you smell!
Horrifyingly wrong.

I try to be polite.
I can't just walk away.
But I've had a bad day,
And this is really not helping.

I look around furtively,
Suddenly, I realise, there are many like us,
Many like us, sitting right here.
I wonder what's going through their minds.
Do they find this as insipid as I do?

I focus on you again,
And I sigh.
I just can't go through with this.

On an impulse,
I turn around.
I've tried enough to like you
And it's impossible.
I yell out to the waiter,
"Arre boss, coffee mein bilkul dum nahi hai!"

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I know I write terrible poetry. But that doesn't stop me. :) I was forced to write poetry at Malhar recently after a gap of over a year, and I had a lot of fun. So maybe there'll be another section now for Attempts at Poetry.

And people who've read my other blog for very long now (just Peru, I think) will know that this is very very similar to another poem I wrote. Apparently only coffee brings out the bad poetry in my soul.

Also, question open for all - was this one really predictable or is that just my imagination?

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Reading and Misc (This is how I label folders in Windows Explorer.)

2008-08-31T20:50:00.006+05:30

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Why everyone should read Yes, Prime Minister (or watch the series, really, but the book is wayyy funnier):

I decided it was time to remind Humphrey who was boss.
"Humphrey, who has the last word about the government of Britain? The British Cabinet or the American President?"
He sat back, crossed his legs, and considered the matter for a moment.
"That's a fascinating question, Prime Minister. We often discuss it."
"And what conclusion do you come to?"
"Well, he replied, "I have to admit I'm a bit of a heretic. I think it's the British Cabinet. But I know I'm in a minority."

Why everyone should read Wodehouse:

"What did he say?"
"I cannot recall his exact words, sir, but he drew a comparison between your mentality and that of a cuckoo."
"A cuckoo, eh?"
"Yes, sir. To the bird's advantage."

It was one of the dullest speeches I ever heard. The Agee woman told us for three quarters of an hour how she came to write her beastly book, when a simple apology was all that was required.

Over-generalisation: Is all good humour by British authors? Wodehouse, Douglas Adams, Helen Fielding (okay, chick-lit, but pretty damn funny), Sue Townsend (drags sometimes, but still), even Jeffrey Archer (at times), Gerald Durrell? I can't seem to recall any American writer of humour. Then again, it could be the fact that my reading is very limited and very mainstream.

Grouse #1: While we're on books, will someone explain why Agatha Christie novels are being made into those... graphic novels? Is that the term? Or any novel, for that matter. They look like bad comic books. I sincerely want to know what the point is. Help kids read? Make adults read? Replace Betty & Veronica Double Digest?

Grouse #2: Also, I register my hatred for ladies (or men) in bookstores who yell to someone on their cellphone, let their kids run amok, and look at books, not read the title / author / blurb. Sample these (all overheard in Crossword):
"Haan, Jigna, mane book levi chhe... Discount voucher kaale expire thaaye chhe. Aiya bau badhi chhe... kai saari chhe?" (Translation: Yeah, Jigna, I want a book. My discount voucher expires tomorrow. There are lots here... which one's good?)
*volume equal to that at which Raghu Dixit shouts in that song of his* "Hello? Haan, boss, sau rupya bacha hai... Kaun si loo? Kuch khaas nahi dikh raha yahaan pe..."

The last time I encountered a lady whose kid was running amok, I gave her such a dirty look that when I turned and left, I heard her tell her husband in a whisper, "Kaise dekh rahi thi..."

That makes me feel good. Though Crossword is kinda losing its charm. Half the store sells shirts now. Major piss-off. Just an armchair or two left. Must switch to Landmark. But I really don't like how Landmark is structured. Hard to explain, but I don't.

Grouse #3: Mothers who ask me what they should make their kids read. How would I know? Just because I sneak a book into every social gathering (I'd die of boredom otherwise) doesn't mean I'm an authority. Let 'em read what they want to. Let 'em not read if they don't want to. We grew up choosing our own books, first Enid Blyton, then Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, then classics, then RK Narayan, then contemporary Indian fiction... some people went crazy over Roald Dahl (I never took to him, somehow), Sweet Valley, some horror series... A lot of the books we read back then seem funny and silly now. I remember picking up a Nancy Drew a few months back, and being shocked that I ever enjoyed it. But the point, the point! Why must parents force books down their kids' throats? Leave them alone. If they want to read, they will.

This is, as you can see, one of the more rambling entries. Sunday effect.

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I have this urge to do a tag about my favourite male fictional characters. No one tagged me, (no one ever does), so I should start taking matters in my own hands and doing whatever tags I feel like. But this particular tag will probably turn into a mush-fest, so I'm leaving it for when I have absolutely nothing to write about.

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Anyone who expects a Rock On!! review is hereby disappointed. I'm too biased. But just as a note, consider this: Akhtar can write, direct, act, sing, dance and look super-hot. And he has a gaze to die for. (Okay, not literally, but quite an awesome one.) AND he beats Ranbir Kapoor hands down in the towel department. Haha. Go, Farhan! (Unabashed groupie-giri. Can't resist. Peru, join in.)

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I Refuse To Be Discriminated Against

2008-08-24T12:32:00.012+05:30

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I take this opportunity to propose: Our Own Cool Blogging Clique.

clique (plural cliques)
A small, exclusive group of individuals;

Considering that none of us (people who are in "us," know who I mean) are big-shot bloggers, and considering that none of us are likely to ever be more than a bunch of bored, slightly crazy students who blog to embarrass themselves on the the World Wide Web, I suggest we have our own clique.

So, we're not Amit Varma, or Greatbong, or The Compulsive Confessor, or IdeaSmithy, or Falstaff, or any of the Top 20 Indian Bloggers. (Yes, I make arbit rankings. So sue me.) And we're not them, for good reason. But heck, that shouldn't mean we sink into oblivion. I demand my fame in cyberspace now. It's a gross violation of my human rights that I must veer between ecstacy and despair depending on the number of comments each posts gets. I hereby appeal to everyone (Medha Patkar, Rahul Bose, Shabana Azmi, even Maneka Gandhi) to protect my human right to cyber-happiness. Their morchas, however, will take more time than I have (cyberspace has a short memory and an even shorter attention span).

So the quick-fix solution is this: every once in a while, we all link to each other (so everyone gets the impression that lots of people read his blog), we all comment on each others' blogs (Need I explain? Every blogger's self-esteem is linked to comments.) and we all throw in a coupla links to posts of other members of OOCBC. (Please rechristen. I'm fully aware this is a shitty name.) Moreover, we all flatter each other once in a while by asking (on Facebook, or in the comments section, if possible - to guarantee maximum visibility) "Why haven't you been posting recently?" (Don't underestimate this. I got this from a few people recently and it made me very very happy. I love my lukkha readers.)

We are not great bloggers. We are not wonderful writers. We are not enlightened individuals. We are unknown in cyberspace.

But now we have a way to create an illusion. A wonderful illusion that will keep us all happy without making us try to improve the quality of our posts. See? You can write badly and have good stats. (Blog stats, that is. What were you thinking?) To summarise, you can get everything that famous bloggers (deservedly) get, without any of the effort or talent.

In a world where it's duh!-obvious that you can't get something for nothing, I say we have just broken the glass ceiling and proved the economists wrong.

Here's to happy illusions.

People I'm inviting now to the OOCBC: Jhayu (though he's on the way to becoming an actual celeb blogger), Peru (the soul sister who taught me how not having blog stats and assuming a WCS every time can actually make you happy in the long run), Shrey (who blogs madly, then disappears, blogs madly again, then disappears again), Geru (who had a funny blog till he killed it), Kannu (who doesn't like sharing his blog so I won't link it here), Asterix (who blogs brilliant crap, but at horribly dwindling frequency now), Divya (whose blog makes me laugh out loud and wonder how she says the exact things that are in my mind, in almost the exact way I would, except that she's way funnier)... and anyone else who is reading this, feels discriminated against in the blogging world and wants a share of the pie. Bloggers who already get large numbers of comments are welcome too, because then we can get some of their traffic. Celeb bloggers, I'm sure, aren't interested, but this is open to them so that some of the glamour can rub off.

(The pukka bloggers among you, of course, will know why I named so many people and linked to so many blogs. Another desperate attempt to bring in more comments.)

That aside, once the OOCBC is set up (seriously, new name required), I'd like to talk to Arjun Singh. We want special privileges for the chinta bloggers in India. Economic assistance, 11 guaranteed comments per post, 5 seats in every panel discussion about blogs, 3 quotes in every newspaper article about blogs, and last but not the least, 2 book deals at least.

Rejoice. The weak shall inherit the world.

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Some Definitions

2008-08-08T22:26:00.007+05:30

Absence of hope: The feeling existing in a participant's mind when she realises all the people she ever participated with in any college fest have left college, that now she is the senior, and that she still knows nothing.

Blasé: The adjective used to describe the said participant's state of mind in spite of abovementioned hurdles.

I'm An Eminently Sane Young Person.

2008-07-29T21:27:00.008+05:30

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I'm not the kind of person who hangs posters of actors in my room.

Or watches their movies over and over again.

Or enqueues their songs on Winamp 20 times.

Or gets jealous of their wives (Seriously! Why would you?)

I don't waste my day at Film City trying to catch a glimpse of someone's toe.

If I see a star in a public place, I don't go to them. Or even take *autographs* (What's the big deal about them? Unless you plan to forge cheques, of course.)

I also don't believe they deserve more blog-space than 3 lines. Or more mind-space than 2 minutes.

But when I hear Farhan Akhtar sing "Tum Ho Toh" I melt into a puddle of mush and turn into the exact thing I thought I'd never be - crazy female fan.

Those who know me will know what it means when I say he's hotter than aapdo Hrithik Roshan. [Hotness = overall package, not just looks.]

And if Rock On! disappoints me (which is likely, considering I'm expecting so much from it) I'm going to be very... umm... disappointed.

Girls, you are allowed to agree and disagree. Gay men, you too.

Guys who have issues with his voice / looks / the prematurity of it all (considering the movie hasn't even released) need not comment.

Have a nice day.

Oh, here you go: Last Sunday's Eye

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[5th post in a month?! How jobless am I?]

Bits Of Hatred - Instalment #2. The ICSE Student's Hatred for the Maharashtra State Board

2008-07-25T22:01:00.010+05:30

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(Warning: Longish post. Bits of Hatred always make long posts, I'm too vitriolic to pack my hatred into 1 sentence.)

Read this: Article No. 1

And this: Article No. 2

Or, if you don't have the patience to, here's a summary. Article No. 1 is about the MLAs in Maharashtra wanting to keep ICSE, CBSE and IB students out of its Junior Colleges. Reason? ICSE schools charge excessive fees, and there could be some financial scams going on. Article No. 2 is about the whole percentile nonsense.

The good part is that the Council is fighting hard to stop this nonsense. My favourite part of the article:
"The Council said its syllabus was more rigorous than the SSC syllabus and even attached a copy of an SSC and an ICSE board English paper to illustrate the difference between the two. The affidavit added that the ICSE board regularly updated and upgraded its syllabus to ensure a high quality of education and it was unfair to deny an ICSE student a seat in junior colleges because the state board had failed to upgrade its syllabus. "

Sometimes the Council makes me more proud than I can say.

But the point here is. I. Hate. The. Maharashtra. State. Board.

In spite of all the crap we've faced for being ICSE students, I will never say that I regret being an ICSE student. It's given me more than I can count, and it has been a defining factor for me as well as most of the people I studied with. It's the best education you can ask for (barring IB), with a board that respects application and practicality, and takes the pains to update its syllabus every year. It makes sure you learn enough, and makes sure it's just tough enough for you to not take it for granted.

The SSC board (or HSC) does none of those things. And they have their own constraints and problems, so I don't blame them for the way they are. Okay, maybe some of it is their fault. But then, if something is government-managed, it's a given that it's going to be outdated, inefficient, filled with corruption and of no real use to anyone. I spent 2 years in Junior College, dammit. I was shocked that profs still *dictated* notes (word for word, yes, and spelling out words that were more than 7 letters); and there were concepts we'd studied in the 8th. (This is not to say that the Mumbai University is any better. It's just that the Mumbai University is easier to ignore.)

But the point, the point! The point is simply this: Anyone who says ICSE students are rich brats who have it easy, or that our board throws marks around, or that we think we're too smart - is. bloody. wrong.

What the hell do the Maharashtra ministers (busy in their vote-grubbing exercises) know about education? How many of them are paanchvi pass anyway?!

Yes, ICSE schools are expensive compared to state board schools. But if you're saying there are no state board schools that charge similar fees, you're crazy.

Yes, the Council tends to be a little more lenient with the language papers than yours. But, considering the fact that we had to study Shakespeare (unabridged, un-simplified) and were expected to write essay-type answers about character developments, while you had "Who said to whom?" type stuff, I'd say we deserve some credit.

And about us thinking we're too smart - yes, there is a grain of truth. We kinda do have a chip on our shoulders. After all, when you arrive in 11th standard (state board) to find math you did in 8th grade and English you did in 4th grade, you tend to be a little cocky. Even the most biased of you can't deny this.

And while I'm on all of this, I must bring my personal ego into this. I can't help it. I simply feel like slapping SSC-types who ask me what I got in the 10th (BTW, people, that was 3 years ago. Why are you still asking me this?), and when I say 94.67, I get "Oh, but ICSE, na? Your Board is really lenient." B*****d, would you have got the same score if you'd been in ICSE? What bugs me is that any answer I make to this will simply beget an "Oh-look-at-the-ICSE-girl-be-snobbish" response. Which'll make me homicidal.

And with the whole Marathi-manoos nonsense (Shiv Sena, MNS, take a bow; between the 2 of you, you redefine stupid, immature, irresponsible, disgusting politics) things are only going to get worse. Every person in the state board hates ICSE and CBSE students already. (Don't believe me? Count the number of jibes by profs in a Junior College at ICSE students, or the complex paperwork required to make the transition from school to JC, the list goes on.) Now they will have a legal, professional, institutionalised way to do it. What with the bloody normalisation of marks, and trying to keep only SSC students in HSC, and trying to make Marathi compulsory for ICSE students... the Maharashtra State Board is punishing us, and how.

And the best part is, ICSE students are being punished not for being from a board that is inane and inefficient, but because we must be brought to a level of inanity and inefficiency equal to that of the Maharashtra State Board.

I think we're the only set of students in the world who are, effectively, spat on for having a good education.

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PS - Among other things, *woohoo* to celebrity popats - Peru, take a bow!

PPS - Everyone who thinks that having a job makes you homicidal, say aye.

PPS - I'd blog about the cash-in-parliament if I had something to say. But really, the only part I found funny and ironical was the way they played Vande Mataram at the end of it all. Bunch of idiots.

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Update: Ever had an SSC student tell you "ICSE students don't know grammar" simply because you didn't know the difference between a gerund and an infinitive, or what past participles and injunctives are? I've been told this, on several occasions, and it made my blood boil. But in retrospect, I just feel sorry for them, because this is a thought process that is born out of being educated by a board which is known for placing the emphasis on all the useless things.

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You Know You're Losing It When...

2008-07-24T22:36:00.004+05:30

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- You look at your cellphone, it reads "12:36 PM" and the first thing you think is, "Hey! That's the Service Tax rate!"

- You press Ctrl + C on one PC, move to another one to work, then press Ctrl + V obsessively 7 times, wondering why it isn't pasting.

- You make fun of people who don't know what TDS is. Irrespective of the fact that it's not something anyone would want to know.

- You now know people who think a book's price should be directly proportional to the number of pages it has. And you don't have the energy to scoff at them.

- All you feel like doing is watching TV. Evenings, weekends, even mornings.

- You think lines like "Meri laundry ka ek bill..." are awesome lyrics.

- You get kicks out of picking fights. And your aggression levels are at an all-time high.

I think I'm becoming brain-dead.

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Open Letters

2008-07-13T11:29:00.014+05:30

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Dear Ladies on "Splitsvilla",

Just one question. What are you doing this for? Love, money or fame? And once you answer, please think about which is worse. I still can't decide.

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Dear Harman Baweja,

I wouldn't laugh if you'd failed, but now that you've tried being Hrithik Roshan and failed, yes, I am laughing.

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Dear Himesh Reshammiya,

That haircut is meant for women.

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Dear Farhan Akhtar, Hrithik Roshan, Pierce Brosnan, and a few others

Thanks.

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Dear All,

You really will find it difficult to comprehend the extent to which your saying "so fun" instead of "such fun" pisses me off.

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Dear People-Who-Whine-That-I-Don't-Keep-In-Touch,

Here's a newsflash: neither do you. You're just utilising the first mover's advantage by saying it first and thinking you have a moral upper ground.

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Dear Bachchan parivaar,

Stop.

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Among other stuff, I read an article about lyrics in movies now being crap and all that, which is not really the truth but what do you say when you hear a song that goes:
Sadde naal kar le party,
Kudi tu lagti hai naughty,
Freaky freaky raat ho gayi.

Like, hello, party and naughty don't even rhyme. You'd have to say "naati" and that'd give it a whole different meaning. (Update: Or, well, "potty" in the first line. That, actually, makes the next 2 lines ring truer than they do now. But these are exactly the kind of cheap shots and stupid jokes that I try to avoid, so I should shut up now.)

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(Okay, I promise. I will not use any pictures of Himya in future unless extremely integral to the entry. Sorry for having inflicted one on you today.)

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Aaaaaaaa!

2008-06-30T22:53:00.011+05:30

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Scene: My room.

I've switched off the PC, shut the book, and am about to go to sleep.

Loud buzzing sound makes itself heard.

Enter flying cockroach from extreme right.

Exit me from extreme left.

It's midnight. Everyone's asleep. My grandmother, who is the family specialist when it comes to catching and throwing out flying cockroaches, is asleep. My father, who's a close second, is asleep too. My mother, who is almost as bad as me at this, is also thankfully asleep. For a moment I toy with the thought of waking them up. But, dammit, I'm 19, am I not? I can deal with this myself. I shut the door and try self-hypnosis.

Okay, relax, it's a stupid bug.
It's HUGE!
No, it's just gross to look at.
JUST?!
Well, it can't harm you.
It could give me a heart attack!
Oh, come on.
Come on what?!
Maybe it'll go out of the window.
The hell it will!
Maybe you should try catching it.
WHAT?!
Well, what can it do?
It can fly into my face. It can crawl up my leg. It can touch my arm. It can...
Okay, stop. Stop. See if you can locate it.

Quick glance into the room proves that it's sitting on the floor and not buzzing around.

See? Maybe it's tired now.
Those things don't get tired!
Hey, maybe you could go to sleep, maybe it'll just scuttle around the floor.
The bugger has WINGS!
Oh. Well... yeah. Try catching it. Go on. Come on. Try it.

So I pick up a jhadoo and a napkin and walk towards the damn thing. I'm 6 inches from it, it hasn't moved, and I'm thinking, "Okay, this is good so far; I'm calm, what can it do to me?"

Then the bloody insect flutters its wings. And I'm out of the room, faster than Vivek Oberoi on sighting Salman Khan.

Another half an hour of self-motivation outside my own room follows. So, then, I do the thing a sane adult would. Run into my room, pick up my pillows and sheets, move some stuff in my parents' room and go to sleep there.

Hey, those things are scary.

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This was gonna be one of those posts with *ahem* visual aids, but then my better self took over.

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I Never Thought I'd Say This, But...

2008-06-26T22:46:00.001+05:30

Farhan Akhtar is hotter than Hrithik Roshan. Any day.

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The Difference Between Girls and Guys (to me)

2008-06-17T21:36:00.008+05:30

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You know how you drift apart from old friends, and then think about them once in a while, and go, "The magic is all gone..." Then, one day, you bump into them somewhere - at the station, at the bus stop, in class, or even online - and you discover it's all still there. And it's still as crazy and still as much fun.

And there are old friends who you miss a lot, and who you want to talk to all the time. And when you finally DO talk, it's formal, it's perfunctory, it's "So, what's new?" "Oh, nothing much... you?" "Nothing really." Or it's (worse still) "You seeing anyone?" "Nope... you?" "No... *silence* What else?" Zoop. There it goes. It's gone.

And I don't know if anyone else has had this experience, but the first type consists of a lot many more guy friends, and the second type, a lot many more girl friends. Or is it just me? Seriously, am I the only one who is seeing a sudden distinction between girls and guys in the way they've changed (or not changed, for the guys) over the years? There's something blissfully uncomplicated, stupid, immature, fun and just so... straightforward about guy friends. God bless them all.

And God bless the couple of girl friends who more than balance the many, many, many girls who've changed (evolved, or so they think) and with whom there's no connection any more. Oh well, I'm probably biased.

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PS- If the title misled some people, I'm very sorry to have disappointed you :D

Tohre Dil Ka Thaeter Maa, Dil Deewana Boooooking Advance Maange Re...

2008-06-11T21:28:00.011+05:30

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(Copyright of this picture to whoever it belongs to, seriously, I have no idea how these things work. It didn't say (c) Somebody, Year when I found it, though, so hopefully I'm safe.)

In a post that will spark heated debate (or so I wish... hah!) I admit: I liked Tashan. Enjoyed it, in fact. Someone give Vijay Krishna Acharya (what a name, man) an award for trying something so different and playing around with 3 languages so much!

Okay, so it's improbable, it's silly at times. But that, my friend, is what holds true for every Hindi movie. What's important is that this one was fun! Whether it's Anil Kapoor (with his sidekicks) going "Preence Charlieeeeeeeeee!!" or Akshay Kumar blubbering when embarrassed, it's all quite hilarious.

Sample these, after all...
"What doings? Eating rabdi malai?"
"Saving your jhindagi... yours affectionately, bhaiyyaji."
"Aadmi haraami... par Ingleeeeeesh!!"

Also, very nice touches here and there, like Anil Kapoor at the end muttering "Lots happy, you..." It's all quirky and funny, and I found myself wondering why people hated it so much. Go watch it. Oh well, it's almost out of theatres now. Watch it when it's on TV, then.

The next thing from the YashRaj stables is something called Thoda Pyaar Thoda Magic (eww) that looks like a rehash of every YRF movie. What I don't get is how their stars and locations manage to look exactly the same in almost every movie. It's as if they're Chinese or something!

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Oh, is it just my imagination, or does Blogspot have some of the ugliest templates on this planet? Why, lord, why is Wordpress so pretty?! :(

In a Single Day:

2008-05-27T21:37:00.005+05:30

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1. A cab driver in Sion who goes straight down a road, circles a junction, takes another road, then scratches his head, turns behind and asks me, "Arre lekin King's Circle kidhar hai?" Then, he blames me for not knowing.

2. An auto wallah who slows down with a confused look, to ask "Kidhar?" and when I tell him, says, "Arre magar gaadi kharab hai..." and drives off. I find most indecisive auto drivers immensely funny. Most of them slow down but never quite stop, preferring to rattle past at 15 kmph. When you say where you want to go, they first almost nod and almost stop, then have some kind of internal conflict, and start shaking their heads slowly. On a parallel note, what I can't understand is how someone who is driving a three-wheeler little metal thing on the road and falling apart all the time, can still think he is so cool. Because most auto drivers do! But then, I guess, that's not really restricted to them, the principle applies to the entire male species, yesno? (More on auto-drivers later.)

3. An organisation (one of the biggest in the world) that has those distortion mirrors installed at every intersection of corridors in its office, so that you can see who's coming towards the same point from the right turn. Their motto, apparently, is safety of their employees. This motto also includes many, many other hilarious cases, but the one I found the best was this sign stuck to the main doors to the loos: "Please knock before you enter." Really? Why would someone do that? Is it a bedroom, and am I about to stumble upon people changing their clothes in the middle of a normal working day? Or must I respect the sink's privacy?

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On Why I Am SO Not Made For This Career

2008-05-10T11:25:00.005+05:30

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44[Explanation 1.In this section, assessed tax means the tax on the total income determined under sub-section (1) of section 143 and where a regular assessment is made, the tax on the total income determined under such regular assessment as reduced by the amount of,
(i)
any tax deducted or collected at source in accordance with the provisions of Chapter XVII on any income which is subject to such deduction or collection and which is taken into account in computing such total income;
(ii)
any relief of tax allowed under section 90 on account of tax paid in a country outside India;
(iii)
any relief of tax allowed under section 90A on account of tax paid in a specified territory outside India referred to in that section;
(iv)
any deduction, from the Indian income-tax payable, allowed under section 91, on account of tax paid in a country outside India; and
(v)
any tax credit allowed to be set off in accordance with the provisions of section 115JAA.]

- From the Income Tax Act

What beats me is that the damn thing is called an explanation.

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P.S. An apology to all those people who left huge argumentative comments on the last post. I usually enjoy those but this time, I just got bored of replying. :) People who were nice, thank you and... ahem... keep coming? (Yes, blog promotion here also.) To the ones who left nasty comments, hey, I'm glad that fighting over the Internet with someone you don't know, and who doesn't care, made your day. :D

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Bits of Hatred: Instalment #1

2008-05-04T21:25:00.006+05:30

(Warning: Long post.)

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I've figured out that the only way to blow off steam is to vent it publicly. The blog is a good place, because it is public but no one gets harmed in the process. Hoping that people at whom the rant is directed are reading it, would be asking for too much. Nevertheless, this is the first in the line of many, many spewings (?) of hatred against sections of humanity. Yes, I officially declare that I will no longer be nice and kind to people (if I ever was). Enough is enough.

Aaj ka vishay hai... The Various Abuses of English and Writing

Let's start with the basics:

Your-You're-Their-They're-There
I don't know what it is about reading a mix-up of "your" and "you're" that brings out the worst within me. Or, for that matter, "their", "they're" and "there." Yes, I know, these things sound similar. But we were taught English for a reason. And there's a spell-check on MS Word for a reason.

Other gripes:

"Rawk" and "kewl" instead of rock and cool. Dude, you're not even reducing the number of letters you're typing.

"That was so fun!!" - It's either "so much fun" or "such fun". Not "so fun."

"That's how she looked like" - It's "what she looked like" or "how she looked."

"Like.." "As in.." - Okay, I do this too, but not 7 times in a 10-word sentence.

[Will add more if and when I remember.]

And while we're doing the intellectual snobbery thing, we might as well go the whole hog. Most of my grudges are against people my age, because they're the ones I'm most in contact with. I have this feeling that the older generations have better grammar and sense of syntax, at least. But then, who knows?

Anyhow, I also despise, from the bottom of my heart:

- Too many dots. They're meant to be used in ones, or threes. And not in groups of threes.
To make it clearer to the dummy:
. and ... are fine. However, .., ........ or any variants thereof are not.

- Too many exclamations. Do you want to look like you're high on glucose / alcohol / anti-depressants?

- Long sentences. Do you remember how you started, ass? [Okay, I write humongous sentences at times too. But I'm working on it. Promise.]

- People who, in the "Favorite books" section of their networking profiles, list all the books they've read. Please note - it says "favorite". Hence it implies, you pick the ones you liked best. If you liked "One Night at the Call Centre" and "Dan Brown" best, you deserve to die. If your favorite book is "Agatha Christie and Sidney Sheldon," you deserve to be murdered.

- In that same "Favorite books" section, people who list good books (not pulp fiction) and write it in lowercase and/or misspell it. Really, if you're reading good stuff, accord it the respect it deserves.

- Generally, people who pretend to read. No one said you had to. No one minds if you don't. Just. Please. Don't. Pretend. That. You. Do.

- People who type in lowercase all the time, or uppercase all the time. Former, you look illiterate. Latter, you make me feel tired of just reading, somehow. I feel like someone's yelling at a wall in writing, somehow. [Note: This applies to proper written communication, not IM/SMS, where I'm liberal even with wazzaaaa-ssup-dnt-cdnt-gr8-b4 kind of BS.]

- People who write poetry. Don't get me wrong. But when you write poetry that gets to its middle after just around 2 pages - you PISS ME OFF. You're not bloody Homer. (Of Iliad fame, not Simpson.)

- People who write stuff and want me to read it. I'm not talking about the odd blog, or article, or poetry. I'm talking about the people who hand me a bloody file of 40 pieces of prose/poetry they expect me to read.

I still remember the time when a trio from my school submitted a whole bloody file of romantic poetry for the school magazine and expected me to read each one in it. Seriously, are you bloody mad? Reading a page of something that I've myself written is usually enough to make me want to kill people. You expect me to read 50 pages of crap poetry you wrote? Filled with goddam cliches about eyes and mirrors?

Also, people who breathe down my neck while I read what you've written. Or worse still, demand that I read it in front of you. Some actually have the nerve to ask me to read stuff standing in front of them.

Let me make my reasons for reading alone clear: I can't read with people and noise around me; I judge better when I'm alone; If you've written badly, it's quite likely that my disgust will be apparent, and you won't like that; I don't like being forced, so sod off.

- Amateur writers of horror / mystery. Sorry, most of you just can't do it. Either you're rolling in vampires and ghouls, or concocting clues that are forcefully fitted together at the end to pin the blame on the guy you thought would be the most unexpected killer.

- Amateur romance-writers. Please. Please. Please. Either you're in love and on top of the world, or out of it and at the bottom. Case 1: you want the world to know the intimate details of how wonderful your romance is. Case 2: you want the world to know what a *&#@^!@ your object-of-affection-until-recently is. Either way, there isn't a single original thought coming out of your mind, usually, so will you please shut the hell up?

And finally, the type I hate the most:

The MS-Word-Thesaurus people.

These are the guys who write a sentence in simple (correct) English. Then they select each word, press Shift+F7 and find its synonyms. They select the synonym that sounds heaviest, and replace the original (simple and correct) word.

In the process, the meaning is often lost. The emotion is often lost. The context is beautifully screwed around with.

These are also the people who belong to the school of thought that believes that the merit of a piece of prose is measured by the number of words with 8 letters or more it has. And that a "vocab" is there for you to show off. And that the fewer the people who understand it, the cooler the writer is.

Here's a newsflash, dodos: (And I take the liberty of speaking for all of humanity now)
If I don't understand it, I stop reading it. If a word doesn't fit the context, you look like an idiot, no matter how long the word is. And the longer your sentence gets (with added words, adverbs, adjectives, and syllables), the lesser real emotion it conveys.

Here's some free advice also: Go read. Please. You'll see why famous authors (the same ones who wrote your "favorite books") are famous.

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I also fully realise that when I'm old and stricken with bad memory, I will commit the same errors. I will, too, someday, write terrible English and use grammar that makes Laloo look like Wodehouse; but until then, as we say in India, we are like this only.

PS - The labels "Rant" and "Bits of Hatred" are different from each other in this manner: Rants cover those things that I hate at a point in time, or that piss me off temporarily. Bits of Hatred are permanent.

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Shotgun Speaks Up

2008-04-24T17:32:00.005+05:30

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"Yahaan pe cheerleaders hai, ladkiyan hai.. lady commentators hai.. in sab se cricket ka kya lena dena..?"

- Shatrugan Sinha

To be fair to him, I suppose he didn't know what he was saying. But the bit about lady commentators is, really, a little too much... :D

Shahid Afridi makes a lot more sense when he says

"Cheerleaders in skimpy clothes must be removed from the cricket ground because they distract the batsmen."

At least this guy is being frank. :D

In other news, no sex education for Maharashtra. I totally support this. We are Indians, and ignorance is the birthright of our children, yesno?

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2008-04-04T22:12:00.005+05:30

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In a jeep, he would smile and argue with himself, you can do nothing about your
mind or your future, not until the journey is over. In a moving jeep he was not
vexed by the onus of thought. Later in the year he would like being a BDO for
much the same reason; the job entailed long jeep journeys in which he would be
at rest, watching the miles pass - village boys on a tree, a hut of a post
office, the sky amber at sundown - while his mind roamed, when he would dread
the end of the road because then again he would no longer be free.

- English, August

Yeah, that more or less expresses why I love long drives.

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Common Myths About Bloggers

2008-03-16T14:36:00.013+05:30

-

Before we get to myths, let's establish a few basic things:

Every blogger is self-obsessed.

Every blogger lives for hits. And comments.

Every blogger wants to be part of a cool blogging clique. This is because CBCs come with: cross-linking, tagging, commenting and hits. In short, CBCs are every blogger's dream.

Give a blogger too many compliments, and he'll start churning out utter crap.

If a blogger writes well and says he "doesn't read his posts even once before hitting 'Post'" - he's either amazingly gifted or a liar. He can't be amazingly gifted because if he was, he wouldn't be a blogger. Hence he is a liar. QED.

All bloggers lie, dramatise and exaggerate.

No blogger writes "only for myself." If he wanted to write only for himself, he'd do it in MS Word or a personal diary.

Every blogger has wanted, at one time, to be a journalist, novelist, poet or philosopher.

Every blogger has realised that he'd suck if he did try to become any of those.

Every blogger, thus, sticks to a blog where he can talk absolute crap for free, get appreciated for writing crap and freely delete comments that shoot him down.

Now to come to the myths.

The Good:
1. Successful
2. Funny
3. Smart
4. Interesting
5. Hot
6. Kind / Caring / Compassionate
7. Aware / alert citizen
8. Wants the reader's opinion / wants to start a revolution / wants to "make a difference"
9. Leads an exciting life

G1. Bloggers are not successful people. If they were, they wouldn't waste their time writing 400 words of prose / poetry each day. ("What if they're writers?" you ask. If they're writers, they definitely wouldn't. They'd rather work on their next book, or read something that makes sense.) Bloggers are one or all of the following:

- Unemployed (if employed, they sure as hell are not assets to their organisations.)

- Amateur writers / aspiring writers, but too lazy to follow their... ahem... "dream"

- Unpublished writers / Rejected writers / Failed writers

G2. Bloggers are not funny. They are people who can write humour. There's a vast difference. Meet them in person and they'll be the most boring people you've ever met. Because, face it, writers are boring. Unless they're flamboyant and gay like Oscar Wilde.

G3. It's easy to be smart when you're sitting at a PC with net access. There's Google and Wikipedia. And online editions of the newspaper you never read. So the next time you read a blogger's *amazingly insightful* take on a current affair, look up Wiki and a couple of online newspaper editions, and you'll find it all there.

G4. A blog entry is a one-way conversation or soliloquy. Doing a good soliloquy doesn't make a person interesting. Quite the contrary, in fact. Interesting people are those who have the ability to speak well and listen well. Bloggers write well. About 50% of them speak well. Just about 2% of them listen well. If at all. Also note, every blogger is a closet geekand hence unlikely to be interesting except to fellow-geeks. Even if he pretends to only talk about getting laid.

G5. Hahahaha. They may rave about their hair today, or a new dress tomorrow, or the compliments they got. But let's please note: Bloggers are failed writers / journalists. Statistics show that 1 writer in 5 successive eras worldwide is hot. 2 journalists in 1000 are hot. Also note the fact that success adds to hotness, and failure and rejection takes away from hotness. What do you get? Do the math.

G6. Bloggers care. About themselves.

G7. They're not enlightened, aware citizens who will change this country. They litter, cuss, break, and bribe just as much as you do, even if they repeatedly shoot down these things on their blogs. A lot of them don't vote. A lot of them drink and drive. Some do drugs. Basically, they are no different from the general populace of India.

G8. If a blogger really wanted a revolution, he/she would go out and start one. Just the fact that he is sitting at home (or at work - yeah, they're quite kaamchor too), sipping coffee, eating a brownie and writing an impassioned piece on public neglect for the Tibetan refugees, should tell you one simple thing - he wants you to do it. (Assuming he wants it done. Often he couldn't care less.) It would also be good to note that almost every blogger is: jaded, eccentric, cynical, bored. Those are not the people who start or participate in revolutions.

G9. He may write about the parties he attended, the people he met, blah blah. Point is, when he was doing all of that, he was hardly speaking / dancing / drinking / singing / going wild. Instead, he was making mental notes.

The Bad:
1. Psycho
2. Pervert
3. Weird
4. Self-obsessed
5. Boring
6. Ugly

B1 to B6. No issues here, really. 99% are 4, 5 and 6. A fair few are 1, 2 and 3.

Other things that we'll leave for another day: Blogging Etiquette, Commenting etiquette, Obsessive Persistent Blog-Promotion, Blog Jealousy, Discussion of Love Life on Blog, Blogging Directed At A Single Person But On Display For The World To See, Sneaky Visits to Own Blog to Move Stat Counter Along, Hiding Of Blog From Family, Fake Identity For Blog, Mushy Poetry - The Beginner's Curse, Bad Grammar, Bad Formatting (Covers Hideous Pink Colours, Heart Templates, No Sense Of Paragraphs... Or, Indeed, Too Many Title-Case-Words), Desperation For Approval and Liking, Getting Comments By Pretending To Want Readers' Opinions.

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Oh, and before the Bloggers Wings of MNS or Shiv Sena start breaking my windows (ghar ka windows, boss, not Microsoft ka)... plizz to be remembering thaet I aem a blaady bilaagar too. So, thaenks for not assassinating.

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Why Your Facebook Life Is So Much Cooler Than Your Real Life

2008-02-17T14:50:00.007+05:30

Okay, okay, there are about 3 of you whose real lives are cooler. But I'm talking about the majority.

Wherever I go nowadays, I see people busy clicking pictures of themselves to upload on Facebook later. Of course, they won't say that. We're-just-clicking-pics-because-we-felt-like. Hah! I've done it too, I know. You're not fooling anybody. If people smile and humour you, it's because they want to tag themselves in these pictures.

In real life, you speak to people face to face. Or over the phone. You can't act funny because most of the time your conversation goes like this:
A: Haan, so, I was saying.. arre, what was I saying? Kuttey tune bhulva diya!
B: Chup kar, &^$#^&@, heh heh...
A: Abbe ^$#&@#^(, as in, like, dude...!
B: Like, whatever.

In your Facebook life, you can be funny. Because you can change that wall post 23 times before hitting "Post." And no one will know.

In real life, no one wants to know you. No, really. Nobody gives a shit what music you listen to, what books you read, what movies you love, which stars turn you on. What's more, if you tried to "quote" your favourite quotes to your friends, you would be met with any or all of the following:
a. Physical violence.
b. An oh-my-God-is-he-crazy? look.
c. A not-so-subtle attempt to pretend like they don't know you.

On Facebook, because you're talking to yourself more than others, you can lovingly list all your loves and hates. What's more, there are enough people who will read them too (More out of boredom than curiosity, but do you care? No, man, you're a Facebook junkie.).

In real life, no one asks you "What are you doing right now?"

On Facebook, well, Facebook wants to know. Correction: They don't want to know either, but they do know that you want to tell.

Nobody lets you play dumb games and silly quizzes in real life. If you do, you nearly always lose.

On Facebook, you win all the time. If you don't talk, you're "the strong and silent type"; if you do, you're "bubbly and vivacious"; if you're ugly, "you're unconventionally good-looking"; if you're dumb, you're "smarter than 33% of the people who took this test!".

In real life, people take pictures with cameras. Those pictures get developed and stored in physical photo albums. If you look ugly, you look ugly. End of story.

On Facebook, untag, untag, untag.

In real life you can't take back dumb things you say.
E.g. "Oh my God, are you serious?! THAT hairdo?!" *you immediate cringe*

On Facebook, you go, "omg........... tht hair????? wats rong mn...?!!!!" *you immediate delete* - Lot more effective. All that the person with the bad hairdo gets is "X posted on your wall" and no actual wall post.

In real life, if you stalked people, they'd take you to jail.

From a long experience of stalking various people on Facebook, I can tell you, it's immense fun and won't land you in jail. Provided you're stalking people whom you know, and they don't know that you're stalking them. Karo, karo. Find all those ex-crushes, find your bosses, find the people who dumped you, find the people you dumped, find the people who dumped your friends... stalk them all. You may lose interest in a day (I usually do), but then there are others to stalk.

In real life, you have about 8-9 people to whom you talk regularly and whom you would call good friends.

On Facebook, you have 523 friends, 27 Favorite Peeps!, and 78 Top Friends. Yeah, you love 'em all and they love you too. Call any of them at 3 a.m. and they'll be there for you. Hang on, do you have their phone numbers?

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Breaking News

2008-02-09T15:36:00.000+05:30

-

News of the week:

(Found this on India Uncut)

This gets me thinking, really, what the actual story would've been like.

Newsreader with grave look on his face: Aur aaj Big B, urf Amitabh Bachchan bhi Bambayi ki badhti sardi ka shikaar hue. Humein jaankaari mili hai ki aaj Bachchanji ne apne mobile phone *"mobile phone" enunciated as if speaking to 2 year olds* pe kisi se baat karte hue kaha, "Bahut thand ho gayi Bombay mein."

*Screenshot of these words typed out neatly in Hindi, presumably for the deaf*

Newsreader continues: Humare samvaaddata, Manoj Ghai, is samay (aur har samay) Big B ke ghar, Jalsa, ke bahar hai. Haan Manoj.

Manoj Ghai (idiot who looks grave too): Shukriya Amit, jaise ki aap dekh sakte hai, main iss waqt Jalsa ke bahar hoon. Yahaan pe Amitji apni patni, Jayaji, bete, Abhishek, and bahu, Aishwarya ke saath rehte hai.

Random viewer at home: Manoj, tu yeh 57734 baar bata chuka hai national TV pe.

Newsreader: Manoj, yeh bataiye ki wahaan ka vaatavaran kaisa hai?

Manoj: Yahaan ka vaatavaran kaafi sehma hua sa hai, Amit, kaafi log aaye hai Amitji se milne. Unhein thand lag gayi, iss baat se unke chaahak kuch pareshaan se hai.

Newsreader: Jee, jee... *sympathetic smile* Kya Amitji ne koi formal press statement diya hai?

Manoj: Nahi, Amit, magar jaisa ki aap dekh sakte hai *camera wobbles wildly and finally seems to settle on a few curious onlookers* kaafi press waale aaye hain yahaan pe... *Manoj gestures violently, camera wobbles in opposite direction to settle on a few TV cameras* aur sab ko Amitji ka besabri se intezaar hai. Sunne mein aaya hai ki woh khud press se aadhe ghante mein baat karenge.

Newsreader: Achha... aur kya aap hamare darshakon ko bata sakte hai ki baaki parivaar ke iss thand pe kya vichaar hai?

Manoj: Amit, iska toh sirf andaza hi lagaya jaa sakta hai. Jayaji aaj kal itni garam rehti hai ki shayad unhein thand mehsoos nahi hui hogi. Abhishek aur Aishwarya ko pyaar ki garmahat mehfoos rakhti hai.

*Valentine's Day ads flash on bottom of screen*

Newsreader: Er... achha... *looks at cue, then at camera* Jaisa ki aap dekh rahe hai, humare samvaaddata Manoj aap ke liye Bachchanji ka aankhon dekha haal laate rahenge. Shukriya Manoj.

Manoj: *grins, satisfied at having brought breaking news to the masses*

Newsreader: Doosri khabaron mein, Kolkata mein Amitji ke mandir mein unke fans ne mannatein rakhi hai ki Bambayi ki thand chali jaaye...

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I'm bored of giving random titles to random-er posts

2008-01-31T21:09:00.000+05:30

_

Jan 31, 2008: We are pleased to announce that the Official Recommendations of R&H (yes, yes, acronyms, as if we're some big-shot famous blog) - see them (here) - have been officially revised. That classic song of the 80s, "Rukmani Rukmani" has given way to young blood. The No. 2 slot is now officially occupied by none other than "Aye! Hip Hopper." To those unaware, we present: the video. Neutral audiences will agree that it easily outstrips "Rukmani Rukmani" on the Corniness (word?) scale.

No. 3 remains "Roop suhana lagta hai" because it is the opinion of the jury that such a breathtaking combination of visuals and choreography will never again be achieved in Hindi cinema. Needless to say, "Tic tic tic" stands undefeated. Rajkumar, and the makers of "Operation Diamond Racket", we bow to thee. There is, though, another video for hardcore Rajkumar fans (Lowe me or haeyte me, as Rajkumar says).

Among other updates, the world-famous author of R&H turned a year older. A good time was had. No interviews, please.

2 whole days to go for a Sunday! Why, God, WHY?!

Happy New Year, And All That

2007-12-27T22:30:00.000+05:30

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This is the post where I recount the last year, look forward to the next, say what I will do and what I won't, explain why last year rocked/sucked, expound on why next year should be different, and all that jazz. Frankly, all that really happens is that a date changes. Ha ha ha.

But then, I figured, this could be fun. I don't make "New Year's Resolutions" because I realised (at the tender age of 8) that I have a habit of breaking them on January 2nd. And by now, my resolutions - if I had any - would look like this:
- Work instead of pretending to work
- Study instead of pretending to study
- Be nicer
- Eat more
- Sleep less
- Learn to "party" (just realised how horribly geeky that sounded)
- Stop wasting time on MSN
- Stop wasting time on blog(s)

All in all, rather depressing. So I don't make those resolutions. Just writing them here hypothetically makes me pity my own life, and that's not a feeling that I feel often or want to feel often. QED. (Okay, add "Stop talking like Humphrey" to that list of resolutions.)

But what I will do is make a list of things I learnt in 2007.

1. 99% of the populace my age does not know why it's doing what it's doing. We drift into something that we're not particularly passionate about or averse to, stick to it because, hell, we got in, and finish it because, hell, we stuck to it. Some of us find, on the way, that it's not really that bad. Others can't stand it and need to find their way.

2. The more intelligent and creative you are, the more confused you are. No, really. Because nothing on the conventional side can hold your attention long enough, and there's too much on the unconventional side that you'd like to experiment with.

3. There's a lot more to every person than you'd think. You can never really know what they have in them until you give them a chance.

4. Being sundered across cities does not come in the way of giggly, crazy, idiotic, rock-like, thought-provoking, telepathic friendships.

5. There are a lot of smokers and boozers and dopers in this world.

6. Girls analyse too much. We read too much into every goddam thing on this planet, and we need to stop, pronto.

7. Life is strange, death is bizarre. And a type of bizarre that hurts badly, even if it concerns someone else and not you.

8. Some of the people I know are incredibly brave.

More later, maybe. Meanwhile, a very happy new year to everyone in advance. Don't drink and drive. :)

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On the Bhutto Tragedy

2007-12-27T20:43:00.000+05:30

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http://hindustantimes.com/StoryPage/StoryPage.aspx?id=88db29ad-7ab1-4429-939b-1bdba2a0c929

I have lesser and lesser to say now. Except that it's apalling.

Ischool Ke Tem Pe, Aana Gori Daeym Pe...

2007-12-16T18:07:00.000+05:30

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*TV Reality Show voice* Ab agar "Tic tic tic" South ki shaan hai toh "Ischool ke tem pe" North ka noor hai. Preeeeee-senting... the one and only... "Ischool Ke Tem Pe"!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJJgZAwR9f0

And if you think it's not worth your while to watch this, my heart grieves for you, for you know not what you miss.

Part Altaf Raja, part loud dandiya track, and a whole new meaning to diction.

This is also the song that, Shoumeli says, was banned in Jharkhand because, apparently, it encouraged truancy. *snigger* I am not suprised.

Oh, did I mention? Please find me the school that has high red heels as part of its uniform. Please.

PS - Lau letter...! Yes, completely.

Yes, The Easiest Way Out of Writing Original Stuff is Recommending Stuff That's Wayyyyyy Better.

2007-11-27T20:49:00.000+05:30

Why I love Aamir Khan:
http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?Page=article&sectid=47&contentid=2007112620071126233559468ae880b68

A column that reminded me of English, August so much that I just had to put it up here:
http://hindustantimes.com/StoryPage/StoryPage.aspx?id=070b14c0-22a0-42e8-ae99-3cfad7a69d0b

And to all those slaving away to become "auditors": http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/Auditor

Clarification: Links to the right are those that are great, but that are expected to be consistently great and hence get replaced by themselves week on week (Eg. Barkha Dutt, Vir Sanghvi, once in a while Karan Thapar and Shashi Tharoor). Links here are the ones I love, with no continuity factor.

One And A Half Movies

2007-11-10T22:37:00.000+05:30

Yeah, the newspapers are tacky enough to discuss it. The news channels are bikaoo enough to air promos all the time. The remaining channels are zonked enough to call the goddam "stars" to every reality show. It's time we stood up to this media circus and ignored it all. Ignore it, and they'll automatically fail.

Filhaal, you guys can do that. Ignore the circus. I, on the other hand, shall add my two bits worth to the millions of opinions floating around, and pretend that people read this blog and are affected by what I write.

For starters, let me make one thing clear. Sanjay Leela Bhansali is a genius. A magician. He's achieved the impossible. He's done something that I thought no one would ever be able to do - make a movie that I walk out of in the interval.

Yep, I walked out of Sawariyan. My whole family did, in fact. And there were others leaving the theatre with us who sounded like they were never coming back.

I don't believe in wasting energy on crap movies. But this is a fascinating sort of crap movie. It's aesthetically pleasing - I love the way he's used lighting, though the whole blue-green effect does make you feel like you're swimming 2000 ft under water. And sometimes reminds me of moss and algae. Yech.

The first half is a showcase of the esteemed director's dream city - cobbled roads, gondolas, train chugging through, towers, etc. All very interesting if you're an architect. Or a psychiatrist. Bhansali now confirms my opinion - he seems to only see, not hear. To him, maybe, aesthetics and beauty are a substitute for substance and reality. As, indeed, they are for much of his audience, and he's welcome to that adulation and support. But his movie - just like the "shringar and ghunghat" comments (ref. post below) - proves that all he seems to care for is eyes, not ears or minds. I'm sorry for him.

Anyway, I can't comment on the second half because by that time I'd fled the theatre (to freedom and happiness, let us escape) and headed to the theatre next door where a bunch of friends were watching Om Shanti Om. Got there in time and saw the whole movie.

Maybe it's just that after watching Sawariyan, even Hulchul would be enjoyable. Maybe it's just that I find those digs at the 70s, at Hindi movies, at South Indian movies, hilarious. Maybe at the end of the day, I'm just an Indian who wants to be entertained out of her mind when she watches a movie - "Paisa vasool" hona mangta hai. Maybe shallow ploys (like getting Hrithik Roshan into the movie for a measly 4 seconds) get me excited. But whatever you say, I enjoyed the damn thing.

There's no logic. And the only reason why this is acceptable is because the film doesn't pretend to have any logic. It's jazzy (especially the 70s bit), melodramatic (mostly throughout), and funny. SRK weighs in with a decent performance (Who would've imagined? The man is getting better... the 3rd decent movie in 15 years! Gosh.) mostly because it's the kind of character he loves to play. The best thing about the movie is, I guess, that it spares no one. It pokes fun at everyone and everything, and kudos to Akshay Kumar and AB Jr for being so damn sporting and funny.

Khoya Khoya Chand hasn't released. Aaje Nachle, with gorgeous Madhuri Dixit, hasn't either. What do you have? Om Shanti Om and Sawariyan. No prizes for guessing which one I'll back. (Though Apahij Pyaar and Mind It would be still better.)

Until then, "Shotgun, Murugan... Yenna rascal-a...! Mind it!"

PS - "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Nice touch... But I hate it when people don't get it!

PPS - SRK's six packs and Ranbir's towel - yech. Spare us, please. Former looks like a coolie and latter like an Italian taxi driver.

PPPS (Later) - I love the digs at Sooraj Barjatya, Govinda, Shabana Azmi, Manoj Kumar, actresses' mothers... damn, the list is endless.

When Celebs Put Their Foot In Their Mouth, And Feel Happy About It

2007-11-04T13:43:00.000+05:30

Younis Khan (Pakistani cricketer), in an interview to HT Cafe...

Your favourite actors?
Anil Kapoor and Hrithik Roshan.

And actresses?
Aishwarya Rai and the one who was about to get married to Abhishek Bachchan... but didn't... Rani Mukherji.

And Madhuri Dixit?
Nahi yaar, unki to shaadi or bache ho gaye hain.

But even you're
married?
I'm a guy.

Forgive me for being dense, but the connection is...?

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And then there's Sanjay Leela Bhansali (director of the interesting Khamoshi, over-the-top Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, disastrous Devdas and overhyped Black) in the Mumbai Mirror with...

Your women seem to belong to another age.
The modern Indian woman does not excite me. My women are strong. But they're also covered, guarded, cherished. My women are strong without screaming about
feminism. The Indian girl has lost her identity today.
That's not true at all. You forget that the Indian woman is still fighting
against a tradition of subjugation.
Does she need to cut her hair to do that?
The Indian woman plays a lot of roles in life. May be it's just simpler to
manage short hair. What's wrong with it?
Then cut your hair! But my heroines in my films won't. Where is the shringar today? The beauty is lost. There is a certain beauty in the ghunghat too. When a man loves his woman a lot, he doesn't want others to see her, he wants to protect her.
That may mean claustrophobia to women. That's when it's obsession, not love.
Oh, I don't mean the veil literally, nor do I mean negative obsession. But
there is a positive obsession in love. But why are we discussing all this, we're
going off track.

Strange, I haven't seen anyone yet say that Indian men have lost their identity when they cut or grow their hair, or fight for their rights (which is what feminism ultimately is, even if "screaming" about it seems to bother Mr. Bhansali so much).

"Off with his head!" he said.

2007-09-23T15:42:00.000+05:30

Dear 24-7-on-the-warpath VHP,

The news, nowadays, really is a delight to read. So much entertainment. So much masala. Wild quotes fly around, threats are made, people rush in and out of jail. But I have to hand it to you, you take the cake. What you will hate, of course, is the fact that you share your limelight with Karunanidhi, CM of TN. And, to be frank, I personally prefer him to you, just a wee bit more.

After all, this 83-year-old atheist is still young and happening. I don't know why, but I feel he's getting an almost vicious, sadistic pleasure out of spouting quotes like "Rama was a drunkard." And somehow that's hilarious and endearing. It's the sort of thing I would feel like doing, just to see the reaction. I mean, imagine throwing the nation into tumult with one sentence, which is nothing more than an opinion. Brilliant.

And things go as expected. Some loony from your side is offering an equal weight in gold if someone can behead Karunanidhi. Come on. The man's 83. Cut him some slack. Not because he's old, but because all he has done is state an opinion and question mythology. Anyway, if you believe in your God so dearly, why does Karunanidhi's opinion make such a difference to you?

And then, the VHP itself has no great place in India. I mean, okay, you have a few rabid Hindu fundamentalist supporters. So what? The media pretty much hates you, the political parties are scared of being associated with you. Even the BJP, which began its journey with you as a companion, now hedges and mouths platitudes about secularism when questioned about their connection to you. Face it, you're in a pretty sad position. And coming up with "Off with his head!" type of dialogues made even the Queen of Hearts a pretty unpopular character in the 19th century (or whenever Alice in Wonderland was set) so I don't see it benefitting you greatly in this day and age.

Finally, Karunanidhi is such a dude. I mean, those black glares, the nonchalance, the atheism, the stubbornness, the sarcasm. Do you really think he'll give a damn what you think of him or what you want to do to him? This is a man who survived a midnight rough-up by Jayalalitha's men quite suavely a few years ago. Proof enough of resilience.

Plus, southern states. Now this may sound like I'm stereotyping, but they do have a larger-than-life image of every icon. Be it Rajkumar (of "Tic tic tic" fame) or Rajnikanth, no one can beat the southern states for pure idol worship. A bit of that extends to their politicians as well. To many, Jaya didi can do no wrong. The same rule applies to Karunanidhi. And admit it or not, public adulation for a person will always be more than that for an organisation. So you kinda start on a weak footing in that department, you know. And if you think he will lose the next election because of this, dream on. He may lose the next election, but that'll probably be because of anti-incumbency, or negative policies, or something that affects the people more than whether Rama drank liquor or not.

Be broad-minded. You wanna fight over the "Ram janmabhoomi," go ahead. You wanna propagate silly ideas of a Hindu nation, your wish. But don't yell blue murder when someone else decides to make statements that are equally controversial, and don't threaten homicide when someone questions your God's existence. Believe and let believe.

Wishing you a healthier, happier, less violent tomorrow,
The author of this blog.

PS: Remember the Sethusamudram project? That's where this started. Just thought I'd remind you. Not that it would matter to you, considering you've attempted to understand science just as much as I've attempted to understand the bloody blinking yellow and orange lights on my printer. But hey, I think the coral reefs out there are a bigger reason to save it than it being the "Ramsetu". There, I said it. So, now what? Off with my head also?

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Unrelated to this, but, "I want to thank you back home Pakistan and where the Muslim lives all over the world."?! Excuse me?! Since when did "Muslims all over the world" and "Pak supporters" become synonymous?

Random...

2007-09-21T23:15:00.000+05:30

A few brilliant entries by some of my favourite bloggers:

Rama Rama (Greatbong) - http://greatbong.net/2007/09/13/rama-rama

Sastrigal and Engineers (Neha Viswanathan) - http://www.withinandwithout.com/?p=1310

God Resigns (Amit Varma) - http://indiauncut.com/iublog/article/god-resigns/

Don't insult pasta (Amit Varma) - http://indiauncut.com/iublog/article/dont-insult-pasta/

Finally, I could say a lot about the match but wouldn't be able to say it as well as it is here - http://greatbong.net/2007/09/24/we-won/ (Greatbong again)

PS: Blog turned a year old a few days back. I think it's high time I rechristen it, especially considering that the first Mindspace is more or less defunct now. People with suggestions please leave comments. Thanks!

Writing For The Market (Sounds like a B-grade management kitaab, doesn't it?)

2007-09-12T15:30:00.000+05:30

It is often said that the most important thing to think of when you write something is the market. Different publications want different things, as do different categories of readers. I would like to set forth, in my own humble way, a list of things you should do for each.

Say, for example, you were writing for that Holy of Holies, Bombay Times. (That supplement of TOI that has gone from 4 pages to... 12? 14? in a matter of years, and from news about BMC carelessness and civic consciousness to the colour and location of Koena Mitra's tattoo).

7 Easy Steps to Writing a Story for the BT:

1. Maintain contacts with the spot boys, makeup artists and struggling designers of the film fraternity.

2. Make sure that when something significant (e.g. the chipping of Sushmita Sen's nails) takes place, you are the first one to be informed.

3. Have a constant horde of psychiatrists, sociologists and small fry of the industry on standby for quotes. If not that, the easier (and better) option is to ask them to give you full liberty to print what you want as a quote from them. [While this may strike many as improbable, it is a fact to be noted that small fry in the industry have no qualms about being misquoted as long as their names are in the paper. Front page, even.] So when Kangana Raut has a bad hair day, you have a trichologist who will give you 2 columns on the likely problems, a psychologist talking about how hair affects subconscious behaviour, a "PYT" describing her own horrendous experiences with hair ("Ooh, I remember, like, I woke up one morning, and it wasn't silky!!" *tone of anguish*)

If you get really lucky, Kangana might herself give you a quote about how it felt, and hint at the cause being disastrous relationships et al. This, naturally, will move this article from front page bottom to front page top.

4. Polish language, make up a few quotes, put words in people's mouths.

5. Get a few photographs (Google Image Search would be the obvious choice) of celebrities all over the world having bad hair days. Also dig up stories of international celebs with bad hair days. If possible, random quotes by anyone about bad hair days.

6. Round it up with words of wisdom for those suffering from the deep angst that comes from bad hair days. BT is the only paper they read anyway.

7. Get back to your cabin, write a story, submit.

7 Easy Steps to Writing a Story for Mid-Day:

1. Go to the panwalla across the street.

2. Buy a pan.

3. Ask him, "Toh, aaj khabar mein kya hai?"

4. Don't write down. Rely on self to remember.

5. Ask, "Aur gossip?"

6. Repeat Step 4.

7. Get back to your cubicle, write a story, submit.

7 Easy Steps to Writing a Story for JAM (for college students only):

1. Recall your day's conversation with your friends in the college cafeteria. [Brainstorming]

2. Select a topic at random. [Ideation]

3. Call up 2 more friends (preferably the kind who wouldn't know Bush from Al Gore) and ask for their opinion on that topic. [Research]

4. Write 300 words on your laptop about it while eating cookies, playing Solitaire and surfing Orkut. [Multi-tasking]

Note- At this point, it would be good to remember the FSS rule: Fabricate, Stereotype, Sensationalise.

5. Read it once. [Self-congratulation and vanity-pleasing]

6. Run a Spell check. [Optional, because very often they don't either.]

7. Submit. [Your value addition to the coolest youth magazine in the world!]

N.B. All opinions expressed herein are purely personal. And very strong. Do what you want.

I Hate Writing

2007-09-07T19:01:00.001+05:30

I hate writing.

I hate writing because it never seems complete, a process that doesn't stop when you put the pen down.

I hate writing because it occupies my mind, my thoughts, my world whenever I write even a paragraph.

I hate writing for the words that swim in my head, elusive, backing away, vague.

I hate writing because every word, every sentence, very paragraph has me obsessed.

I hate writing because I know that nothing matches it. I hate writing because I hate this feeling, this "knowing".

I hate writing for the unfinished thoughts, the broken sentences, the words that never seem quite perfect when I create them.

I hate writing for the mood swings it inevitably brings with it - the excitement, the disgust, the despair, the apprehension, the conflict.

I hate writing for the dark, vast ocean of things you can do with it, and for the choice you must make to choose a single way.

I hate writing for the power it single-handedly wields over the mind.

I hate it.

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Written in a rare dark mood. I think I'm getting old.

Update - Yet Another Random Entry to Prove I'm Alive

2007-09-03T20:05:00.000+05:30

I'm back after a break of nearly 3 months. Nothing much to say, except: please watch "Mona Lisa Smile" if you haven't already. (Yeah, I know, I seem to be specialising in entries that are more like random snippets of conversation and don't even deserve comments, but I'm past help.) Brilliant movie.

The rest, later. If there ever is another entry. I seem to be facing writer's block of a peculiar kind - nothing seems important enough to blog about. (And then again, considering I've blogged about absolute random crap in the best, this shouldn't be happening.) So until I actually feel like writing... blah.

"She's a woman," "This is tokenism," yakkety yakkety yak...

2007-06-17T21:10:00.000+05:30

Why is Pratibha Patil's nomination such a hoo-haa issue? To the best of my (admittedly poor) knowledge:

1. No one raised a hue and cry when Sonia Gandhi was set to become PM (in spite of her track record being considerably shorter than Ms. Patil's). In fact, the "woman" issue was not even raised. Please explain. Does being a part of the Nehru lineage make you a natural choice for PM? Even, pardon me, if you're Italian?

2. Nobody talks about tokenism when it comes to Sonia Gandhi or Mayawati (even though Sonia Gandhi stands for tokenism of a different kind - the political lineage kind). There are women in Parliament, in the states, and in every goddam place. What's the shock at having a woman President?

3. Pratibha Patil is as good (or as okay) as the rest. Clean record, educated, but quite frankly nothing extraordinary (as Kalam was). So what? Is Bhaironsingh Shekhawat extraordinary? Is anyone else? People like Kalam are few and far between, especially in the world of politics. I myself would love for Kalam to continue for a 2nd term. But now that he won't, we must be clear about one thing - just because we have once had a Kalam, our standards may rise, but the chances of another person of the same stature are close to nil. I don't see another highly qualified nuclear scientist up for public service with full support anywhere in the near future.

Bottomline: We need a President who is neutral, incorruptible, and strong enough to take a stand (I used to love the way Kalam returned bills to the Parliament.) If it's a woman, so be it. If there's a man who can do these things better, make him President. "It's high time we had a woman President" is no argument. "We want the best possible candidate," naturally, is.

Also - what's with all the faff about a woman President being able to address women's issues much better? Did Indira Gandhi achieve more than ordinary success with women's issues? Did the women of Bihar be empowered under Rabri Devi? When a CM or PM can't bring these changes, why push for a woman President on the grounds of "women's issues will be solved"? Women's issues in India are wide-ranging, ingrained and will take a few more decades (at least) to solve - right from foeticide to dowry to domestic violence to harassment to discrimination and the proverbial glass ceilings. No President, PM, CM, MLA, MP, blah blah blah is going to be able to solve them with quick-fix solutions because there are no quick-fix solutions. Putting a woman in the chair ensures nothing unless she is the best person for the job.

Agreed, she was nominated the wrong way. Agreed, she seems like the bottom of the heap, the last option, etc etc. Basic point - if she's good, why not? Conversely, if someone else is better, why Ms Patil?

Why must we cloud simple issues with complex gender factors? Don't put her forward if the only reason for putting her forward is her gender. And don't oppose her nomination if she is, indeed, the best person for the job.

Also overheard on We The People - someone says the ladies in UPA and ladies in media should have campaigned properly for Ms. Patil. When a male President is proposed, is it just male party members or male mediapersons who lobby? Why is it in our country that a man is a person, but a woman is a woman?

To all those who say that Ms. Patil's Presidential nomination is a safe choice, a political choice, a manipulative choice, a default choice, a random choice, (insert other criticism here), I'd just like to say - it always is. As long as they bring in someone who doesn't fall asleep in the Rashtrapati Bhavan or sign everything that the ruling party sets before him/her, and as long as he/she does a good job of opposing wrong, politically-motivated decisions, welcome them in.

P.S. This issue comes under the head of non-issues. But I just watched a heated 1-hour debate on NDTV on this which made no sense whatsoever, so I hoped writing it down would help me clear it out in my own mind. Someone please answer - what the hell is our problem with pure meritocracies? Be it here, in Parliament, or in educational institutes - why must we reserve and reserve and reserve?

P.P.S. Women's reservation in Parliament - &#%&@#* is all I can say. The ones who are there are not significantly better than their male counterparts, nor significantly more effective in tackling female illiteracy, dowry, assault or the millions of other problems faced by Indian women. So bringing in more is not gonna help.

P.P.P.S. On a different track, have cleared the CPT with a decent score. (Relevant story - guy with exact same marks says he's 23rd in the country. If true, so am I. That brings illusory happiness but there's no corroborating proof so let's consider it pure nonsense.)

Yet Another Random Post - Will The Menace Never Cease?

2007-05-28T23:56:00.000+05:30

May 29 (almost): If you're sleep-deprived, tired and a normal human being, at close to midnight you'd probably be asleep. But if you're sleep-deprived, tired and me, at close to midnight you'd be writing a blog of no consequence to any person in the world, without a topic and without any sense of direction.

CPT (i.e. CA entrance to those untouched by such horrors) results are expected on Friday. The damn exam took place on May 6th, with an Eco paper and a Quant paper that made me feel like tying the paper-setter to a stake and burning him slowly. But just in case you're reading this, uncle, that's all crap, I only pander to my audience of 4 people, and in fact I greatly respect you and admire you. (Just as a suggestion, if you can play hookey with the computer that checks my paper, it'd be wonderful.)

On the positive side, no CA exam for the next 2 years. Read: 2 blissful years of appearing only for college sem exams. And we care as much about those as Bush cares about the President of Malawi. (Nahi bhai, I'm not racist. Nowadays you can't take a step without someone labelling you something.)

And I know I ought to blog about news now. Looking through my past posts, I think it's been a ages since I wrote about anything that actually makes a difference. (Cynical Thought For the Day - Does anything make a difference? Ponder.) Will do so soon. Hopefully.

Meanwhile, I say to all and sundry - subscribe to Dilbert and Calvin and Hobbes by email. Thou shalt not regret it.

Also check out http://umang2007.wordpress.com/ - the official Umang blog. (Yeah, what's my blog for, if not to promote people and items as and when I wish?) Write in, people, write in. Or send photos etc. Just remember, plagiarism will be punished. Be afraid. Be very afraid. *Evil laugh*

And to all, good night and good luck. W.r.t. Friday, as A. R. Rehman famously says, "Pray For Me, Brother."

Things to watch / hear before you die

2007-05-09T20:12:00.000+05:30

Things to watch / hear before you die:

1. "Tic tic tic"
What happens when you create an English song to use in a South Indian movie? This:
"Eef you come chuday... You are too yearly...
Eef you come toomaarow, you are too laayyyte...
You peeck the taaaaaaayme,
Tic tic tic tic tic tic, Ah, Tic tic tic tic tic tic,
Daaaaarrrlleeeeeng...!!!"
(Those who know me may check out the same in the videos on my Orkut profile. Others, run a YouTube search for "tic tic tic" - trust me, it's famous.)

2. "Rukmani, Rukmani..."
In a bid to come up with the weirdest lyrics ever written in this nation, someone decided that this song would be their best bet - and why not? It comes in at number 2 on this list!

3. "Roop suhana lagta hai..."
This has to be watched. Hearing it will not complete the ecstacy. I won't spoil it for you, except to say that it has a South Indian hero and Juhi Chawla, dressed as if they're in medieval times, with a hundred sworded warriors behind them, doing a strange form of war dance in the middle of a desert.

Just by the way, why is every South Indian hero moustached? All these songs also remind me of this one school trip to Karnataka, when the TVs in our hotel rooms had only:
1. Gemini
2. Udaya
3. Sun
4. Other-South-Indian-channels-with-similar-names

So we spent our free time watching South Indian movies and songs. And those of you who think that you can decipher a movie without knowing the language, think again. Here we were, 4 people in a room, a total of about a 100 14-year-olds, going bonkers over what we, in our childish racism, called "undu gundu."

There was this one song which was the crowning glory. I may not be able to explain it fully here, but I will try. The only word we understood was "Indra-dhanushhhhhh" which occured at regular intervals. There were 2 heroines (firm in their belief that puppy fat is cute) and 1 hero. 1 heroine was on the phone with the hero. The hero was simultaneously prancing around with the other. It wasn't even a cellphone, so don't ask how. So, on one hand, you have Heroine 1, cooing sweet nothings into the phone, on the other you have the hero, cooing back (on a landline). On the third hand (What, we can have only two hands, men? What about the Great Indian Mythology, eh, men?) you have the hero dancing through gardens, fields, lakes, forests, deserts, hills, plateaus (you name it, it's there) with Heroine 2. At the end of it, we decided that there are only 3 possible explanations:
1. The hero has a clone or a twin
2. The heroines are both the same (they all look the same somehow)
3. There's something going on between the heroines and they're making a fool out of the hero. (Well, we were 14.)

All in all, great entertainers.
[Note - I have nothing against South Indians. I love their food. And them. So all those looking for a fight, thanks, but no thanks.]

And while we're on the topic of "Things to watch before you die", let me also add this thing called "Kaun Banega Champu" on Filmy (every Sunday, 7.30). While the script is pretty silly, the guy who plays SRK deserves an award!! Every nuance, every look, every tone is copied and mocked at so perfectly that I'm in splits. Right from the irritating laugh, to the condescension, to the self-obsession... Hilarious. [SRK lovers... I still say to you... there is time. There is a way to be good again, as Rahim Khan would say.]

Also, listen to "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me" by the PussyCatDolls... (insert spaces wherever). Blondest song of the century, the first time I heard it I thought it was supposed to be funny. Turns out it wasn't.

Watching "Aila Tendulkar" won't hurt either. While the gags are painfully stupid at times, the concept and the sheer uninhibition (word? check dictionary) make it a treat.

Also check out billboards and ads for this soap called "Doli Saja Ke". The tagline goes, "Paida hote hi mujhe ek naam diya gaya... manhoos." (Or some such thing) Anyone who relates to these soaps, please write in. I'd love to communicate with you (if you excuse the fact that I'm not an angelic, sacrificing, suffering young girl who mouths phrases like "mera kartavya" and "mera sansaar" et al) and figure out your psychology.

Genuine appreciation for a Van Heusen ad for their Women's Wear line. I don't remember details, except that it was great. I suppose being a high-end luxury product (by Indian standards at least) they have a target audience that they know will respond to something like this much better than the archetypal "Bhala uski saadi meri saadi se safed kaise?"

[Lame joke - What does Madhuri Dixit say when she meets M. F. Hussain?
"Bhala uski daadhi meri saadi se safed kaise?"]

And a query for all and sundry... I hate to be picky, but why do those compositions by Gwen Stefani come under the head of "music"? Eef you know, pliss tell. I'm waiting to find out, men!

Between Posts

2007-05-01T15:22:00.000+05:30

New Sony Ericsson ad. I the endorser. 'nuff said.

[Disclaimer: This entry was here just to show that I'm not dead. Yet.]