Spiderman Speaks

Lost Love

2011-02-08T18:01:00.002+05:30

My first brush with him was when I was twelve. Way too young to even understand with intensity any of the emotions he could invoke. Yet Abhas Kumar Ganguly or known to most as Kishore Kumar has had a profound impact on my early years.

I was besotted by the haunting aspect of his voice and was completely taken in by his ability to transform the mood I was in just by listening to him.

Koi Hota Jisko Apna...
Aye Tum Yaad Mujhe...
Kiska Rasta Dekhe...
Yeh Laal Rang...

These were my favourites. In the next 3-4 years, not an evening would be spent without my Philips two-in-one blaring his songs. Mother would just not figure out why I would listen to such tragic and fatalistic songs ! Of course, in that there was a reason. And as in most cases, the reason was a woman. That is however, another story for another day.

Today, I cannot quite fathom why I loved those songs. The only word that comes to my mind is 'inexplicable'. I do still remember the context but what I find absolutely deplorable or incomprehensible is what is it that appealed to me so much about them then and what is it about them that I am indifferent to them today ?

The answer is not in the songs. Maybe the answer is me. An unfortunate and sad fact of life is that I have grown up. And though I am still every bit the hopeless romantic at heart, I cannot by any stretch of imagination feel anything when I hear these songs.

It is a love story gone sour. We are still friends and we will always be, yet somewhere we have lost a chord. While there are still many such nuggets which tug at my heart, but that is nothing compared to the passion we shared. Maybe, this is how it was meant to end. That I be replaced as the most obsessive follower by some other 15 year old of the day and me looking back and wondering how I could have loved so much.

15 years - that is what it took for me to lose one of the most endearing part of my childhood.

Give and Take

2010-04-20T15:57:00.001+05:30

Whenever I wonder about the balance of life, I am quite simply nonplussed. If the basic assumption is you reap what you sow, then what or how much you give finally should equate out to what you get. Yet, that hardly seems to happen. You look around and see that absolute nitwits for whom the word 'bastard' was possibly designed get away by being lousy S-O-Bs while the inherently good and decent ones get the stick.

But this is not about them. It is about the countless times when you have given everything you had to people who have hardly ever stopped to glance at you and thank you for what you have done, and appreciating how much they mean to you and got nothing in return. So much so, that at one point you wonder where do you go from here. What else do you need to make them appreciate you and then you realize that whatever you do, it will not happen. For they are too oblivious of you, too consumed with their own considerations.

It hurts. And you are filled with a sense of wastage.

The other side of the coin is more interesting and more poignant. Many a time, while we are pursuing our set of interests, we commit the same error - an error of utter neglect towards the ones who have given us their love and undying attention. For those, your smile might be the most important thing they look forward to. Maybe, you do smile but not with them, but at them, at their all too apparent folly at the things they do to be with you. In short, you trivialize and insult their emotions. Yet, looking at it purely objectively, they are the ones who deserve you the most. And they are the ones who have been left high and dry.

So, how does this equate out ? Does this ever stop us from making the same mistakes again ? Does this make us more sensitive and teach us to appreciate love as and when we see and feel it ? The feeling of deja-vu is not one which is gratifying irrespective of which end of the spectrum you are at and in both cases, you should be more careful of losing out on the wonderful touch of love because of your inability to appreciate it.

Devdas's Glorification and Parvati's Pain

2010-04-04T15:15:00.002+05:30

From the time I read this classic I have always been overwhelmed by its principal protagonist. Devdas, epitomizing the suffering of an unrequited lover. Love has the potential to destroy a soul. And Mr.Chatterjee's words ensured that when you finish the novel a part of you cries with him. In a lonely death yards away from the house of his beloved.

Yet, as I think now, I cannot help but feel that Sarat-babu was too biased and completely oblivious to the plight of Devdas's love interest Parvati. We are never allowed to feel any empathy for her. Saratchandra does not do justice to her. Never for a moment does he delve into the psyche and silent moments of anger, frustration and deprivation which Parvati must have felt.

It is assumed surreptitiously that being a woman, she has accepted her fate and moulded herself and directed her mind to meeting the wants and desires of the household which she was married into. Her aspirations of a life of love with the person she loved, her anger at Devdas's seeming cowardice at not being able to take her with him and the frustration of being with another man, completly shutting her of all the magical moments love can bring is never put forth.

We see that Devdas suffers. His pain, unbearable, finds temporary solace in Chandramukhi and in alcohol. His torment is glorified and Sarat-babu, incredulously puts a white veil to this by implying the purity and intensity of his emotions through his act of abstinence from having a transactional relationship with the courtesan. Implicit also is the assumption that once married and too occupied in her household activities Parvati is happy - for happiness for the woman was defined as having access to wealth and position in lieu of her husband. Ironically, the state of mind or of the heart was never considered for Parvati. The glorification of Devdas and the utter neglect of Parvati and her ordeal, which any woman is likely to go through in such a situation is unfair deserves to be questioned.

Over the years, as I have been exposed to emotions of various kinds, the unfairness to Parvati has made me think. Think about what and how much a woman can endure. Think how little we know of them, how we have, maybe unconsciously pushed their emotions to the fringes and how naive we are when we claim to know them.

Today, when I hear of heartbreaks and stories of lost love and broken relationships, I remember Parvati with her dignified reconciliation to her situation and the weakling that Devdas was - unable to cope up with the failure at love. Makes me wonder, who loved and lost more. Devdas, having given vent to his feelings or Parvati who kept quiet and led a life without ever having the avenues to express and only her own heart to talk to.

Saumyajit

2010-03-03T23:05:00.001+05:30

There are some who will bring a smile to your face the moment their thought crosses your mind, there are some whom you would not even remember after a brush in an evening while there are some who would earn your respect by the sheer weight of their personality but there would always be one who would change the way you think leaving an indelible imprint on your mind, on your life.

I don't know whether Saumyajit has changed my life. Now is not the time to be the judge of that. Maybe, 20 years later, when I start doing a post mortem on my life. But surely the association which started about 15 years back has transformed my thoughts, recalibrated my principles, allowed me to break the greatest barrier known to man - to unshackle the mind and allow it to be free.

I was batting in an absolutely trivial match in my locality where it was a question of life and death to win or lose when I saw this book with a white cover with a rose on top which said "Love Story". At 17, when your life is pretty much on a diet dished out by parents based on the foundations of their moral and ethical fabric, the word 'love' was meant to be uttered in hushed tones, the word 'kiss' used only while cuddling babies and 'sex' meant only checking boxes in forms where you had to specify gender. So, on looking at that book with wide eyed wonder, my exclamation caught him off-guard and he straight away shoved it in my hand. A bit hesitant, I enquired the likely reaction of my parents if they were to catch me reading such a book, to which his nonchalant reply was to first ask them to read that!

That was the book. I had not read anything like that before. It was an appetizer to a sumptuous never-ending meal. After that, at periodic intervals, I would ask him what to read and would have some of the best times of my life poring over his recommendations. And then discuss them with him. His method, or an agenda, I doubt if there was one, was to just throw up a question and let me be with that. In one discussion I remember having being critical of people indulging in sex with reckless abandon, only in pursuit of physical pleasure. His response was "what is wrong with that?" To this day, I do not have an answer to that and possibly this question was the genesis to me thinking about everything and questioning all till I found an answer which would either have a rational backing or an emotional one.

And then came the movies. An ardent follower and admirer of Hollywood, this was a dessert which I had not had an exposure to. That words have power, that melodrama may not be the only method of expression that grief and love has a refined intensity which is much more endearing and intoxicating is something which the movies of the 50s and 60s have made me realize.

What this exposure has inadvertently done is to make me a trfile snooty and utterly dismissive of people who do not read or watch stuff which you wont even remember a moment of barely a minute after you have finished it. I seem to have lost some of my humility in the process but what I have gained in the process is many times more gratifying.

So here is to Saumyajit. May all of the 'spidermans', wherever they are, always have a Saumyajit at some point of time in their life - maybe not to change them, maybe not to do anything but just maybe to make them realize that the liberation of the mind is the greatest instrument of experiencing the divine taste of freedom.

Parents and Children

2010-02-23T22:35:00.002+05:30

I know all of what you do are meant truly for our well-being, that the intentions are absolutely noble and you only have our best interest at heart. The problem is what constitutes as a virtue to you or rather a vice to you might not be one when you look at it from my perspective. If you let your apprehensions and prejudices and inhibitions and more importantly your value system dictate what I should do or should not, then you are fundamentally destroying everything you have tried to inculcate in me.

YOU have taught me to be independent, to use my ability to think and weigh and choose accordingly what is right or beneficial for me. YOU have given what you had to give and if I, today, are at loggerheads with your value system or your conventions and I desire to chart out a path that I think suits my disposition, then YOU need to stop for a second and allow yourself to trust me against your wishes. Before you jump out of your skin and use the typical parental rhetoric of me being insensitive and how things used to be in your time.

Because if you do that, then I need to remind you in all humility that your time has passed. Just as mine will maybe 20 years from now on. Just as my children's will be when they are 50.

Your children are NOT expected to abide by your system of morality. Because times change and through that changes many things. One of them, particularly in the context of our country is that, the glorification of sacrifice as an instrument of expression of undying love and intensity has given way to being selfish in pursuit of happiness. If it could be had today, it should and will be had today. The second would be a just and necessary utter disdain for what will become of society if we are to be hedonistic. While I appreciate our eternal commitment to hypocrisy in every sphere of life, when we criticize others inspite of having lovely skeletons in our own cupboards, this concern about society forgetting who constitutes them is perplexing. Why not for a change think of our own happiness and fix ourselves first before taking such an honourable job of fixing the society?

Now, why do I still rant about YOU and not just screw it and go ahead? Because I want you to be part of the time when the world appears to be a beautiful place to live in. And hence, I yield. Every time. Hoping that someday you will look at it from my end and try to out-think yourself and allow me to be me. You are important irrespective of whether you can take a call on my life - you are the one who has given it to me.

We are not at war. We shall never be. And if you intend to remain rooted to your conservatism and your ideas, then as a worthy son, I have to do what you have always taught me to - stand up for what I believe in even when I see you warming the opposition bench, for I cannot allow you to let me let go off something which I know for sure is right and let you realize that in hindsight, when we have lost the most precious resource called time.

Realizations

2010-02-03T15:34:00.003+05:30

There is nothing profound in any of these. Yet over time, all of these have been buttressed repeatedly leading me to believe that there might be some element of truth to all of these. These are my realizations collected over the last decade or so:

There is a poet in everyone. Its only a function of the surroundings and the inspiration which is the foundation of great creation.

If you are selfish, you won't have friends but life will be convenient for you and you don't have to make considerations at your own expense.

Goodwill is an asset but one which hardly gives you any tangible benefits.

When someone loves you, you will just know it and once you do you will never mistake it for anything else in life. It will cease to be an impostor and will welcome you with open arms.

Whether life is beautiful or a sack of stone bags is purely a transient state. It takes one moment to change everything. Either you come crashing down or you rise up in exultation. Whichever way, it is at the least, always interesting.

Sometimes, a look is enough. Much much more than a hundred words exchanged. Sometimes, one word might be more powerful than all of what we have spoken since we learnt to speak. Sometimes, silence can be deafening.

The only thing which I have always carried with me and which I cannot live without are memories. They are my greatest friends and my sworn enemies.

Heartbreaks are essential. Without them, you lose out on one of the most important learning of life. They teach you to be sensitive and humble. They make us know that we are fragile and worthy of love.

The joy in the voice of your friends who are happy for you is something to cherish. It is then, that you feel that all the time spent being with them might have been worth it.

My Grandparents

2010-01-10T21:50:00.001+05:30

For most part it was a one-sided affair. Contrary to the general rule which has governed my life, out here I was fortunate - supremely fortunate. When you are loved without preconditions, and only loved and hardly chided or disciplined and even saved from the occasional justified wrath of your mother, then you know that you are lucky.

Till about a very long time, I really did not think much about my grandparents. Except for the fact that Dadu would offer all kinds of incentive to have me at his place and Didimoni would mesmerize with her mind-blowing culinary skills. And I, oblivious of what I meant to them, in ignorant cruelty, did not have time. Too engrossed in my own life, too proud of my youth and energy.

They were a strange couple. My Dadu was a typical chauvinistic patriarch. Sensitive but dominating, sensible but conservative and one who abided in almost all cases strictly by the prism of duty, responsibility as laid out by traditions. Didimoni was love. There is no other way to describe her. A beauty in her younger days, she had a smile all through the back breaking work she did all day. Not a complain. Not an indication of irritation. Fully and utterly committed to the one person who was her world. Dadu.

Dadu died when I was in college. Didimoni died today. She was dead the day Dadu ceased to exist. The transition from a bubbly, jovial woman to one who was alive merely physically having lost the will to live was shocking. To me it was painful. Having never seen her, being at the mercy of another, having always seen her as upright and capable, it hurt.

It made me realize that the terms of love and respect might not always rest with equality, that being together in peace needed nothing except faith and unflinching support, that a successful life is not measured in any other terms except the smiles you bring about with whom you are.

In my adolescence, Dadu tried with all his persuasive powers to teach me the strength of poetry. To no avail. Today, if I were to single out one single impact of him in my life, it would have to be the ability or propensity to appreciate creation, to read, read more and learn and assimilate. Maybe he did not have the power to implement it in his own life, maybe he wanted me to be a better man to be able to do what he could not - I would never know.

But together, they both were there, with me, when I had those stupid frequent fever, when I was spiritedly broken by jaundice and when I did well in my tenth, I think I have never seen anyone so happy for me - not even my parents.Is it just coincidence that of all what I have done so far, that day would unarguably qualify as one of the happiest one in my life.

As Didimoni goes to the pyre today after years of struggling to die and be with Dadu yet stoically living, possibly to meet up with the woman I am going to marry or possibly just because she had to, I have lost something more than the only two persons in this world who called me 'Tipai'. The name is dead from today. And what remains is a man richer by all of those times and poorer to some degree by that elusive and precious thing called love.

An Interesting Year

2010-01-01T12:22:00.003+05:30

What started as a year of melancholia finally turned out to be a very interesting one. One of my best friend got married. Consequently, it pulled the curtains on the one and half years we shared a flat. Since our disposition was eerily similar, both being of the laziest sort, we had an amazing time. Staying with friends is such fun.

Then came the months of serious introspection. One of despairing boredom, of steady restlessnes, of getting sucked in to the finality of a job which allowed my brains to rust in its stupendous glory. In the midst of this, happened the trip to Lahaul, Spiti and Chandrataal. I am thankful that I made the decision to go on that trip within a span of 2 hours. It surely is the best place I have been to so far in my life.

August was a month which was unkind. I realized I spent three decades on this earth without anything to show for it. And suffered the first bout of a mid-life crisis even before I reached it ! At the onset of September, things started getting brighter. Joined a job, where I met new people, new perspectives and the brain was put to use after a very long time. Felt, I belonged.

And then, surreptitiously, almost imperceptibly came an email, which as I realize now, was the
first corner my life was about to turn. Initially, as is the case with me, skepticism ruled the roost. Some phone calls later, I sometimes felt like asking myself the question which I have been asking for quite some time then - "was this it?" But then, experience in its wisdom, had taught me to brush aside such thoughts. You don't score till you have scored.

November and December were at the very least, interesting, which actually colours the entire landscape of 2009 and tilts it to such an extent that the earlier memories fade into inconsequence.

It was in November that I met her.

We spent a day discussing dreams and life and feeling comfortable in our own space. There was a flow, a certain sense of fluidity and then the question kept coming back. By the end of the week, I knew I was getting into serious trouble again.

I had vouched that I would never be in a position where I have committed myself to play the stroke only to get caught at the last moment. But then, life has other plans. In spite of all my inclinations to hold back, I just could not. Just went with what I wanted to do. Being in different cities just added to the spice. Never before in a single month have I gone through such a plethora of emotions. One of upheaval, at times bitterness, moments of pure joy, moments of total disregard for the repercussions my actions were to cause and yes, of course, of hope. I said things, which I myself could not believe I could. I almost invariably found the right words to express exactly what I felt.

It was in December when winter felt like spring. Warm, sunny, bright and glorious.

I have no idea what lies in store in life. Whether ours will be like Richard and Francesca or Robert and Francesca. But for the first time, I truly feel alive. Wanting the next day to come with all its anticipation, its unexpectedness, its possibilities. Wanting it to be not just another day where I mark off my attendance but a day where I smiled without a reason, where I heard another - without a reason and understanding fully what John Nash meant when he said "It is in the mysterious equations of love that you find all the reasons of logic"

Goodbye 2009 ! Welcome 2010 !

Ah ! Finally...

2009-12-17T01:28:00.002+05:30

Why is it that I feel that this makes everything right? Everything. All of that I have been through, all of those small battles which I lost and those big ones I did not win.

Why is it that I am not scared but excited about something I do not even have an iota of an idea but assured of the outcome?

And why on fucking earth do I keep on smiling for no rhyme or reason staring into blank space, thinking of nothing, just, just feeling happy? Idiotic.

Restless

2009-11-25T17:14:00.001+05:30

What do I want and what do I need? Till I was 23, when most of the decisions of my life went by conventions, I did not have to think. Life was superb. Apart from the occasional pangs of insecurity, I was happy. Thought less. Enjoyed stupid movies which I absolutely abhor now. Played sports to my heart's content. Loafed around with friends. Could not have had a better life.

The last years have been, for the lack of a better word, weird. Every year, I have had to decide on something or the other. Which would be quite defining. Significant. In almost all of those decisions, my life could have taken two different paths, different trajectories and different expectations.

I made the choices. I am responsible for all of them. But till about three years back, I never thought about this question. The answer may lie in a single word. Peace. And how do I get it? I don't know.

The later half of the twenties has been exhausting and a test of my mental strength and a time for serious consideration of values and of facing up to some hard-hitting realities of life. At the very least, it has been quite tiresome. Hardly exhilarating. Hardly like the life I had. I am consumed with a certain degree of restlessness - an unharnessed energy. Sometimes, I think, given a conducive situation, I can simply hurtle myself headlong into something and travel at breakneck speed towards - maybe oblivion, maybe glory.

But for what?

If I was a man of limited capabilities and limited ambition, I think I would have been supremely happy. At this juncture, I need to know whether I have it in me or I am just another in the crowd who would be happy with what life has to dish out rather than trying to extract something out of life. The restlessness is palpable. My friends can feel it. So can I. They sense a bit of urgency hitherto unknown in me. I, on the other hand, sense a lack of purpose. I have to break free, but from what - is a question I cannot seem to find an answer to.

Till that time, let me continue to rust in my world of illusions and increasingly keep on pushing the accelerator till I slam into a wall. To break it or to get broken. Either of them will serve the purpose. Happy in death or ecstatic in life.

Burning Fingers

2009-11-16T23:02:00.001+05:30

I have hardly learnt from my mistakes. And I seriously doubt whether I ever will. But for some strange inexplicable reason, I cannot seem to do things otherwise.

Actually I refuse to play by the rules of the game. Specially when it comes to a woman. There are strict guidelines to adhere to. Certain things are acceptable while certain things would surely spell disaster. Naturally, I have an affinity for beckoning disaster.

The first and cardinal rule of the game is that you should never reveal your cards till you are sure of a win. Experience has taught me that this is something I should not try much to experiment with. But, as is always the case with me, I simply do not believe in conventions. So, if you let her know, that you indeed have a stake and that you might actually be thinking, then you have most likely shot yourself in the foot - or the heart. Yet, I choose not to hold myself back.

Foolish. I know. Stupid. I agree. Yet, can you find fault with either my intention or my intensity? Do those count ? I don't know. Someday, I hope it will. To the right person. If ever, there be one.

The other rule of the game is to hold the moment by the scruff and push it through. Never allow time to think. Apparently, it takes away the spontaneity and makes it a rational process rather than an instinctive one. And rational choices are hardly interesting choices. But choices nonetheless. Yet, I choose to allow time. For only if something stands the test of time, only then the exploration is worth it. Only then, would it be immenseley exciting to look at life and live.

Ridiculous. I would think so. Idiotic. Maybe. But will the wait ever be worth it ? Am I actually romanticizing something or is there an element of reality in it? For, the waits have always been long, agonizing, draining and ultimately futile.

The best part is a burnt lost finger can only heal. Otherwise it was already burnt.

Fortunate But Ungrateful

2009-10-01T23:14:00.003+05:30

Life is unfair. Life is unjust. Life also has a way of balancing out the positives and the negatives. Sometimes, it becomes so arduous a task, that living itself is a cumbersome process. But, if you are to ruminate on a leisurely evening all by yourself and try to figure out whether life has been kind to you, the answers might throw you off-balance - completely.

This post is a product of such a ruminating and illuminating evening.

I have heard this many a time that we take the very obvious things for granted in life. We do. Like having the privilege of access to a sound education. Having the resources to pursue your dreams. Having a support system in the form of our parents. Almost getting everything that we have aspired for. Maybe not in time but eventually.

We forget that the absence of any one of them might create a situation which could have hampered and altered the course of our lives beyond imagination. We are not expected to win always. We should not. Or rather we cannot.

There are 2 ways of looking at our present state. What could have been if we were born in a better situation and likewise what could have been if we were born to the opposite? Just the harrowing prospect of the negatives of one compared to the opulence and comfort of the other will lead us to the conclusion that we are not that worse off in life.

So, when we think of our seeming failures or unsucessful attempts at many things in life which seem to be futile now, we curse our inability to make it happen. For we have in many cases seen people, who we think are undeserving, to have nearly got away with everything in life. The fallacy of the argument lies in the fact that we are no one to judge whether they are undeserving or deserving or whether what they have is what they wanted in life. Even if they did want and get them, it is only probabilistic that such aberrations will occur.

We should, ideally, judge by what makes us happy. More often, we judge ourselves by our peers. And even more, by the standards or parameters of success which our ever beloved society has ingrained in us. Owning a house, a car and a beautiful wife to name a few and in that order!A good life does not necessitate any of the above.

As typical humans we should try to find someone to shift the blame upon and crucify him. Once that is done and we have had our conscience satiated, we can safely go home thinking we have solved the problem, hardly realizing that we have only had a brush with the symptoms. Like all problems, the problem with aspirations, starts with the upbringing. Once you teach the child to work around the system and ask him to perform at every level, with minor considerations for what he wants, you have sown the seeds of near maniacal competitive spirit which stinks of a rat race.

The only thing we can and should teach our children would be the value of freedom and to be responsible for the consequences of the choices they make. For that, we first need to respect their choice. For that to happen, we first need to respect our own. For that, we have to have a liberal and fearless mind. And therein lies the problem. We are so sucked in, we are so self-congratulatory, we are so obsessed with being 'successful' that we are almost paranoid of failure. We do not provide for sufficient leeway for our children to fail for we know that in the final analysis it is going to hurt us more.

The Question of Identity

2009-09-20T13:57:00.002+05:30

One of the questions which haunt us all through our formative years would be "Who am I?" I have seen people do all sorts of things to establish that. It makes for amazing study of the psychology of human beings. I have always been fascinated by the people around me. Just by being with them, following every action of theirs gave me a glimpse of what they are going through, what is bothering them and what makes them.

Trying not to be judgmental, I will put forth some of them which has intrigued me and still continues to do so and of course, what I think about them.

Academic Brilliance
This is actually a disease. A typically myopic, conservative, elitist aspiration. If we cannot be judged by how we look (though in reality, we are), why should we be judged on how intelligent we are? If I had the choice, believe me, I would look like Gregory Peck and be as intelligent as Einstein or even Dawkins. Some of my friends were simply paranoid about how they fared in an exam. And if it did not meet up with their expectations, it would be a shattering experience. Not because it would close certain doors where they would have liked to knock on, but because it puts their identity in question. Now, how ridiculous could that be ?!

Professional Excellence
Excellence in any form ought to be appreciated and applauded. But the extent to which people can harp on their outstanding performance and appraisal ratings, is to be heard to be believed. Frankly, I doubt whether anyone wants to hear how good you are at what you are doing. Its of the least consequence to mankind until and unless you are researching on the next HIV drug or the next nano-bomb. You are making money, and all of your energies and focus are in ensuring that you continue to make more of it. Just don't make a marketing project out of it and prove it to the world at large that you count. You do, by just as much as you would have, if you did not have a job.

Looking Ravishing
I must confess that I am biased towards this. I mean, who does not want to look at beautiful women? I have heard people say that beauty is subjective. Which is of course, a whole load of crap. And wonder of all wonders, this line is generally taken by the ugly ducklings. Talk of self-consolatory statements and there is no better example than this. We look the way we look. We cannot do anything about it. YOU KNOW whether you are beautiful or ugly. And hardly anything can change that. Except maybe, being in love. Which in a weird sort of way, makes everyone beautiful. But for people, who base their identity on how they look and I have had the privilege to be associated with some of them, theirs is a lot to be pitied. They are visually delightful but intellectually bankrupt.

Rebel Without a Cause
The most natural method of getting yourself be known. Do things which are disapproved by all and you get instant recognition. Plus - a lot of girlfriends. Transient - Yes. But at 14, who cares ? The problem occurs if you stretch it too far or start too late. For you to sustain it, you have to be a near genius. And genius, misdirected or aimless, can wreak havoc. Read this and tell me what you make out of it. Because I still don't know if living for oneself is the best way to extract the maximum out of life.

My Take
How would I like someone to establish his identity? I don't know. But over the years people who have followed these traits listed below are the ones whom I have come to respect and admire and I guess this is what I would appreciate most:
1. Being honest to yourself
2. Respect and compassion for all human beings just because
3. Pursuit of excellence without a loudspeaker

Will you marry me?

2009-08-30T13:59:00.003+05:30

When it comes to waxing eloquence, chances are you won't find anyone better than the inexplicable creation called women. And exactly on similar veins, when it comes to handing out a reality check in vague,indistinct euphemistical terms there is no competition to them as well.

Harry Belafonte had a song dedicated to this "The woman is smarter than the man in every way". Wonder what made him realize that. The poor guy, I doubt, hardly had an inclination that he had stumbled upon a cosmic truth. And we think our ancient sages had all the answers.

The last two existing bachelors of our JU group has had a bagful of experiences when it comes to marriage. One has left the field in sheer exasperation while the other continues to fight as he has been doing all through his life with no signs of abatement on any front. The list of experiences listed here is definitely not exhaustive but indicative. Of what ?

Girl: You have such a charming sense of humour....
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl: You are an awesome guy BUT you see after careful consideration of the chemistry we enjoy and I assure you that it is something which I have never enjoyed with another, I have come to the conclusion that we should not go beyond this...

Girl: You are an excellent person and you deserve all the happiness in the world. In fact if I were to sum up the collective happiness that this world has to offer, you would deserve more than that.
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl:You are an awesome guy BUT I do not think I can be happy with you. I mean, I want someone who is chivalrous and polished and could really make me happy, you know...

Girl: You are so witty and educated and you have such an awesome career...
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl: You are an awesome guy BUT things did not turn out the way I expected when we met. I expected sparks to fly and the sky to applaud in its resplendent glory and rainbows to add to the brilliance. But you felt sleepy and tired. Okay, you had a 14 hour bus journey, but so what ? You cannot be allowed to be tired. Not when you are with me.

Girl: You are one of the nicest persons I have met. There are lots of reasons for marrying you.
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl: You are an awesome guy BUT when I said that there are lots of reasons for marrying you, I really meant that there are exactly that many for NOT marrying you. I wish you all the very best in life and may you find the Cinderella of your dreams with her shoes intact for life.

Girl: You talk so well. That is such an endearing quality. Women would secretly desire you but might be unnerved by your extrovert nature lest it attracts others bees to the nectar!
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl: You are an awesome guy BUT I think I need to think a bit more. At this moment, my priority in life is to think about my career and my aspiration is to be married to someone who will pamper me, fulfil all my desires without me having to spell it out - basically someone like my Dad!

Girl: You are so funny. The conversations with you has been mindblowing to say the least. Your wife will be one of the luckiest persons.
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl: You are an awesome guy BUT the stars foretell trouble. When I matched your horroscope with mine, they said there was an explosion. In Baghdad. Our horroscope score came out to be 28 while mine with another prospective suitor was 32! Now, it does not require mathematical genius to know that 32>28.

Girl: You are such a brilliant guy. I think we should seriously think about us.
Guy: Will you marry me?
Girl: You are an awesome guy BUT I don't think that you are sincere enough in your attitude towards me. You actually went ahead with your trip which you had planned with your friends about THREE months before meeting me?!! Of course, you should have cancelled that and danced to my tunes. You had the audacity to think that you are the Pied Piper ?!

On the basis of the statistical evidence at hand, the two bachelors individually were forced to discover another cosmic truth:
"I am an awesome guy...BUT"

Crucial Disclaimer: The bachelors in question so far has never popped the question. But the answers came nonetheless.

Three Decades On This Planet

2009-08-21T01:11:00.003+05:30

On Childhood
One of the best times I have ever had. Partly because I was at my dominating and bullying best. Imagine. ME being a bully. Trust me, I had that power. Not physically but the lashing which I could vent out even at that age through my tongue was to be heard to be believed. Being the boss of a group of kids is a pleasure. People hate you but they are scared to stand up to you.

Today, in hindsight, I feel absolutely lousy for those actions of mine. I shudder at the thought of some other kid doing the same things to mine some day.

The 6th Birthday
I think that was the first time I celebrated my birthday. And possibly the best and most eventful one I have had in my life. It was remarkable. The first time I received so many gifts on a single day and so much attention was showered on me. I simply was transported to another planet.

Since I was 14, I have become totally indifferent to that day and now I dislike it much more than I do anything else. It makes me feel utterly idiotic and I cannot find one good reason why I should celebrate THAT day. As far as I know, the world does not seem to be better or worse off because of me.

The First Love
I have dedicated an entire post to that. Need I say more ?

Honestly speaking, I really do not know what love is. I am obsessed by it. And this obsession has continued to this day. My idea of love was shaped by two landmark movies of my generation - Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak and Maine Pyar Kiya. Being in love was to be catapulted to the highest pedestal of adulthood. And me being the ever flamboyant one, had to be there. Different matter that I never got there.

MBA
Possibly the most critical element in my life. I will know the significance of this possibly ten years from now. But surely in these three decades, if I could call anything an achievement, it would be to complete a MBA shocking everyone around.

That day, I realized, even I can.

On Girlfriends
Mine are a unique lot. Seriously. My father is actually more proud of them than I am. He thinks what I share with them is quite extraordinary. I am not sure why I interest them - they seem to take an uncanny interest in my life but its kinda nice. Much as I wouldn't want to, I have to admit that. Ohh, the glee on their faces when they read this. Intolerable !

Subhabrata
Aparajita was right. I doubt whether anyone else would love me simply for who I am or rather for me being me. How many are fortunate enough to have people like that in their lives. I am.

Three decades spent. Mostly wasted. Some cherished memories. Some excruciating ones. Some failures. Few successes. Some outstanding persons who have left large footprints on my life. Few who have screwed the hell out of me. Some whose actions have changed where I was headed. Some which started new journeys. No miracles. Loads of good wishes. Some true and some well - fake. Some curses, powerful ones. One sensational friend. No enemies. A young heart and a mind which still functions.

Could I have asked for more ? Shouldn't I be happy and satisfied ? Then why am I not ? Maybe the next three decades would answer that.

The Curse of Friendship

2009-07-12T15:12:00.002+05:30

The lady comes back with prophecies made long time back only to prove that she was right. For all the hours and minutes spent trying to challenge age old wisdom it was a battle I was destined to lose. The only critical factor was time. At thirteen, the world is different. Realism hardly sets in at that time and vision is limited to the next 100 yards.

At that age, relationships appear to be everlasting. Love is sacred. And the pledge of friendship beyond question. The lady in a fit of exasperation at my obsession with friends had warned me of a junk investment, if you were to look at one purely in terms of return. If it was a question of riding over the next few years, about sharing some time and space together, she was fine. What she objected to was the over emphasis and the price tag I put on it.

Of all the time I have spent on this wretched planet, I think I would have been well served if I had nomadic relationships rather than the ones which continued to defy time. Old friends are like old wine. They ought to be exploited and brought out once in a while to let you remember of 'those days' where life was uncomplicated and promises were meant to be kept. More often than not friendships are based on unspoken contracts which require no law to be executed but are more sacrosanct than any other legal document you can create. It is those unspecified and unwritten clauses which when honoured make friendships beautiful. It is when those are consigned to mere corollaries and overlooked which renders it useless. And as per the lady in question, such renderings are just a day away.

Life is beautiful but the action of living it is what makes it a drudgery. It is at those times that you need the return on the incredible amount of time and energy and emotional quotient that you have invested. And it is precisely at that moment that life hits you with its greatest weapon and numbing force - reality.

The reality is startling and quite devastating. Maybe, it was always like that. Maybe I never took the sunglasses off for fear of being blinded. Or maybe, I never thought that it had the capacity to blind. In hindsight, those idiots who stunned us simply by their unapologetic superficiality, were not idiots after all. They understood that in time, friends might be there and might not be. What we do and make and what we are, are questions that is best answered by oneself. Finally when you stand and look around, you will see your friends - basking in collective glory if you have made a success out of your life or looking at you with forlorn eyes and paying lovely lip service if you have not. What would be sadly missing is the honest intent of feeling either of them or even depressingly is the intention to honour those pledges. That is when you feel the sense of wastage.

I guess that is what my mother used to warn me of.

The Smartest Man

2009-07-06T23:41:00.001+05:30

Mark and Steve did not have an illustrious father. Thankfully, the same cannot be said of us. It has taken me a pretty long time to understand that of the three men in our family, given a different time and space, he would undoubtedly be the most successful considering that he is the most talented and definitely the most intelligent.

It took me about five and a half lakhs and two years to understand credit crunch and derivatives (I still don't though!). It took him possibly a little more than half an hour to conceptually understand both. He was never a doting father but one with whom I never had a problem communicating. Contrary to my mother, with whom I can never seem to be on the same plane, he was simply outstanding. Precise, to the point, utterly pragmatic and truly objective, conversations with him would range from being enlightening to stupendously enjoyable. My girlfriends, much to my chagrin, always pointed out that I could never have the sense of humour he has. And reluctantly, I have to agree.

It is said that who you are is a function of what you have done and how. If I take that to be true, then there cannot be a better role model to emulate. Coming from a financially dire background and making it through to the IIT by winning scholarships all through an excellent academic career without the luxuries we enjoyed would surely qualify as exceptional. Add to that a mix of the ability to paint, ability to take photos, ability to radically energize a gathering by sheer wit and you have nothing except a genius who is totally oblivious of it.

As far as his effect on my life is concerned, sons are expected to be better versions of the father. Maybe not as much accomplished but surely better as human beings. Whether I make that cut or not will be a question time will answer. But the fact that I am not exactly a boring company to be with or the fact that I have seen what it is like to start from a modest beginning and make it good or to be positive about things and never lose the practical element of life can be attributed to him.

Never the one to dish out unnecessary advice but always there should you need one, never once intruding upon personal space - in fact, encouraging us to have one, never for once imposing anything or burdeninig me with his expectations and always being supportive by tacitly trusting my ability when there was no evidence that it could be - I could not have expected a better support base. I vividly remember an incident when after my pre-board exams, where I was pummelled by all subjects, I was sitting disappointed having lunch and he casually came to have a glass of water after his siesta and said "It will be alright, not to worry". And he went off. Whatever self-doubt or lack of confidence I had was put to rest. Not for that fleeting second. But for life.

The only logic to faith is love. He had that in plenty. As I try to make sense of this utterly nonsensical life today and I see the same intensity of life and passion in him I am stunned by what an incredibly outstanding human being I had the opportunity to witness in my formative years. Whether I do justice to his legacy or not and whether I finally live up to being a worthy son, the pure joy of being associated by lineage to him was worth it.

If only I had a bit more of that intelligence and talent...

Wisdom or Cliche

2009-06-23T15:09:00.002+05:30

I received a forward from one of my friends which listed down the dos and donts from a lady who is 93 years old. Here are my responses to those:

1. Life isn't fair,but it's still good.
If its not fair, then by extension, it has to be unfair. If it is unfair, then surely you have got a raw deal somewhere. Then how is it good?

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
Precisely the question. The fact that you are in DOUBT, implies that you ARE hesitant in taking the next step - big or small.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone...
Hating does not require time. Come to think of it, sometimes it can act as a trigger.

4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
I thought you need to pay the hospital bills ? Or are you from Cuba, where healthcare is free.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
Agreed.

8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
You get angry with things which exist.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck..
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
Agreed again.

13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
With some, I have. And frankly, the comparison is inevitable. That is the basis of all progress.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret,you shouldn't be in it.
On the contrary, ensure you are in it. There is nothing like perverse pleasure.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
Neither does a stone.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
If only it was THAT easy!

17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful,beautiful or joyful.
How about bad memories?

18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
The question is what is the price you are paying for it?

19.. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
Let me finish my first!

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
I hardly do, but sometimes there are no choices.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special..
Exactly why ? Because the sun shines and I am alive ? Please...come up with a better line.

22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
Sounds good.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
This is what happens when you don't use the organs for which they are meant for !

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
The greatest bullshit ever given. At 90, though, I will say the same thing, I am sure.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words'In five years, will this matter?
In five years, nothing might matter. I might be dead in the next five minutes.

27. Always choose life.
Death was never a choice anyway. Are there other options ?

28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
Yes.I know.

32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
That, my dear Watson, is precisely the problem.

33. Believe in miracles.
I will, the day one happens to me.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
WOW !! That almost nearly made me feel ecstatic. Send me his mailing address. I will put in a letter of gratitude.

35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
Utterly useless statements.

37. Your children get only one childhood.
So did I. So ?

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
No, all that matters is that whether it came to something or not. Your actions is NOT independent of another.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
Where ? Where ?

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's,we'd grab ours back.
This I would totally agree with. Though its a bit like saying that since there is hunger in this world, I should not celebrate.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
How I wish !

42. The best is yet to come.
We all keep hoping that and spend our lives on that premise. There is nothing called 'best' really. Finally, its a relative superlative.

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
I do.

44. Yield.
Only if it appeals to my rationality. Not otherwise. Not in this lifetime at least.

45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.
From God - right ?!!!!

A Defining Moment

2009-05-31T01:03:00.001+05:30

Let us for the sake of political correctness call the two women 'A' and 'B'. This was about 10 years back. It is funny how incidents such as these play a significant part in shaping the emotive traits in a character.

I was supposedly in love with B. It was a time when my infamous rationality had gone for a toss. In fact, as I think back, I hardly thought. There is this manic obsession one is consumed with when one thinks one is in love. And I was no exception. 'A' was my friend. A very dear one. Someone with whom I go back a long way. 'A' and 'B' were classmates. One fine afternoon, a very fine one indeed, considering the events to follow, I got a call. From B.

"Are you free now ? Could we meet and just go around for some time ?". For a brief moment, I thought my heart would stop. Just stop. Here was I, always waiting for such a call to go out, with HER and in the web of my dreams had pictured such an outing to near perfection and lo behold, I do get one such invitation ! Who says, miracles happen only in fairytales ? I stuttered and composed myself and asked "Yeah, sure, you alone ?". The basis of the question was my earlier experiences with 'B', wherein, she would consciously avoid being with me all by herself. This, in spite of the fact, that I was hopelessly decent with women and pathetically harmless. The answer was a cryptic "Yes, who else would be there?" to which I promptly asked her to wait wherever she was and assured her that I would get there in about 10 minutes.

During this short walk to the agreed destination, I had all sorts of questions in my mind. I was so excited that I was actually amused. Amused at the effect a ridiculous 'date' could have on me. But behind all of this, lurked a sneaky feeling - "Why on earth would she suddenly call ME?" and that too after steadfastly refusing to even walk 5 metres with me ever. I reached there on time. It would not have been even a minute when out of the blue 'A' appeared, from behind with a glorious and slightly sly interesting smile. I was shocked to see her there. Then I saw B approaching from the other side of the road with a knowing sickening smile towards A.

It took a minute for it to sink in. The first thought that struck me was "Shit, they planned it!".

I do not know whether it was at that moment that I understood what having fun at the expense of someone else meant. And whether I did start appreciating emotions much more from that point on. I have thought of it many a time and have never come to a definite answer as to why one of your closest friends would do this for the heck of it. For B, well, maybe, maybe when you know that there is one who would be there to answer to your beck and call, or rather, when you know that you have a power over another, a power so strong that it is capable of controlling the other without wielding any sort of authority over the other, possibly the human tendency is to sometimes test it out. Just for fun. Which does not make the action forgivable. But to an extent would surely justify it.

For A, it was unforgivable. It still is. Vivian Leigh has this line in "A Streetcar Named Desire" where she says "Intentional cruelty can never be forgiven". On the money, I would say. But just that with time, hurt heals and we become wiser. With time, we also come to the inescapable conclusion that it all evens out. Where and when are just matters of detail. So it best not to forget but always to forgive.

The dilemma is that sometimes you hardly want things to even out - just because they are friends. Even at your own expense. Even at the expense of a dignity compromised and a loss of self-respect.

My FilmFare Acceptance Speech

2009-05-26T01:22:00.002+05:30

I would like to thank:

Filmfare, for supporting the trashiest awards ceremony the world has ever known or will ever know - one that panders to general opinion, based on pure escapism of the highest order, where quality or excellence is measured in currency, where how much you make is more important than what you make and where crony nepotism is the sureshot way to fame.

Yash'ji' (and Pam 'Aunty'- it is fashionable to mention her name with his) for giving us timeless classics full of intensity and passion, for bringing together some of the best talent in the film world and extracting mind blowing performances from them and then thrashing everything he had created earlier to make huge money spinners without a soul, without a story and mindless cliches. Just to let us know that it is indeed possible to dive into the depths of alarming mediocrity from a plane of excellence.

Karan Johar, for showing us the talent he has and letting us know in the same breath that he will never do justice to it.

Shah Rukh Khan, for taking on roles considered to be graveyards for heroes, for defying every stereotype that was there in the industry at that time, for making a success of his marriage amidst the heaps of broken ones all around him, for breaking the shackles imposed by the burden of being a superstar and then methodically, consciously undoing each and every one of them so painstakingly built. For frittering away the opportunity of a lifetime to bring about a paradigm shift in the business of making films in India.

Abhishek Bachchan, for showing that it is possible to leverage one's career, first through one's father, then the mother and then the wife. For proving again and again, that in our nation unworthy sons make absolute fools of illustrious parents, for proving
that in the CV, the surname matters more than the matter that rests in it. For landing up with plum roles inspite of being the greatest dud ever. Well, apologies, he did beat his father to one record at least. The most number of flops before a hit.

Hrithik Roshan, for using his lineage judiciously and making it count on his own merit every time. For just showing that hard work might actually make up for a perceptible lack of talent to an extent. For showing that humility does have a wonderful charm.

Kareena Kapoor, for putting to shame the legacy left behind by Raj, Shammi, Shashi and Rishi - all very competent actors of their times simply by her expressionless acting and horrendous selection of roles. For confirming the notion that great genes do not necessarily translate to greatness in reality.

Ram Gopal Varma, for being the most maverick filmmaker of our times. For never being afraid to try out new things, most of them utterly crappy, yet never shied away from trying. For giving horror a new dimension, for gloryfying and humanising the dreaded underworld and for screwing every awards ceremony that India offers.

Aamir Khan, for never attending this awards ceremony and for calling their bluff and surviving inspite of being at loggerheads with the powers that be.

My cast, crew all other support staff for making a film which none of us should be proud of, purely because here I am on stage receiving an award from the most farcical institution, if it could be called that, through a process of selection which is anything but transparent or credible from a bunch of people whose only claim to fame is to sit on the fence and applaud greatness and never make an attempt to achieve it.

Mark and Steve

2009-05-08T01:19:00.002+05:30

To say that he was the cheese and I was the chalk would be an understatement. To say that he was Mark and I was Steve would be a closer approximation, nonetheless stretching it a bit far.

He has grace. I have grit. He was prolific. He still is. I was the typically sedate. He made it look so easy. For him, it was just a question of when. The how was clear and so were the results. I was cocky and definitely lacked the ability he had. Ironically enough, we both started from the same room. And reached different horizons in life.

It had to be this way. There was no other.

He was a mother’s delight. Unobtrusive, quiet, a boy of exceptional intelligence and concentration, obedient and a sneaking tendency to excel in everything he would touch, the indications of his success were for all to see. He was destined to be something special. Coming from an academically illustrious family, this was the norm rather than the exception. And he did not disappoint. Never did. The boy grew up to be one of the best in the family – excellent in demeanor, hard-working, handsome and professionally outstanding. The parents were blessed. Or so they thought.

Till I came into the picture.

I was everything he was not. I was mischievous, deliberately non-conformist, utterly vain and supremely confident in the idea that I was an equal if not better than him. I never was. Contrary to the general fortunes in my life, in academics, luck did smile on me when it was most needed. I barely scraped through otherwise. Statistically, I hardly had an average academic career. I never listened to the soundest advice of my parents even when I knew that they were right. My desire to learn everything through experience was unshakeable even after persistent, recurring setbacks. In short, I did nothing in my excellent useless life so far to deserve the tag of a worthy sibling. I could not have cared any less.

If it were not for my mother.

When he was felicitated as one of the beacons of hope, after he stood in top 20 in our final board examinations, only one could accompany him to the ceremony. My father went and my mother missed out. I promised to her that on my day it would even out. Much as I pride myself on keeping promises, I was not able to. She never mentioned it and I am quite sure she would not even recollect this incident.

But promises in childhood are more than just promises. Particularly those made to parents.

Today, we have both made something out of our lives. He – expectedly and I, contrary to popular belief quite unexpectedly. He – seamlessly, effortlessly and I scrambling and scraping. As I think today, given an option, whom would I like my offspring to emulate? The one who gave joy and made them proud or the one who hardly ever could? The one who grew up to be everything his parents hoped for or the one whose only connection to his parents would be the same genetic constitution?

This time, the answer definitely does not blow in the wind.

The Romantics or The Stupids ?

2009-04-23T16:54:00.003+05:30

The demarcation between a romantic and a stupid is so fine, that in my opinion all of my existing bachelor friends have surely thought that they belonged to both with equal ease at varying points of time. As with everything what we finally would be classified as, would entirely be a matter of perspective.

The entire process of getting married is quite cumbersome to say the least, particularly, if you have not already found a woman who can sustain your interest and wonder of all wonders be capable of holding a fairly intelligent conversation and miraculously enough also like you sufficiently well enough to say "I Do".

Its not that such women do not exist. I am sure they do, but they are an endangered species. Which begets a very significant and distinctly uncomfortable question. If they were there, then where were we ? And if we were also there amongst them, then the conclusion is not a flattering one for us !

So, how did those of our friends who were not bitten by the cupid bug managed to get married ? They, mind you, did not look for so many things. Which makes me question our parameters for qualifying someone as interesting and worthy of a second look.

Are we looking for the right things ?

Since all of my friends are 'apparently' happily married does it matter whether the person is knowledgeable or intelligent or has a definite perspective in life or finally does it only boil down to getting a good person ? I have no idea what it takes to share a life. But the idea of a shared life I have is something that I cannot possibly explain.

What we can explain is our undying relentless pursuit of trying to find the one with whom there can be no boundaries in thought, who would have a way of looking at things which might not be mine, who would have an identity of her own, who would have a vision which would challenge and stretch the horizon.

And that is where our stupidity lies. That we will not give up even though the prospect of a harrowing defeat is evident. Is it then a coincidence that we we be labelled the crazy romantics who would hardly ever want to conform to reality but would want to write a sonata of our own ? For now, however, only the discordant notes are our only companion and time our only refuge.

Maya Banerjee

2009-03-24T12:50:00.001+05:30

We have always been at loggerheads. It started about 20 years back and since then it has become progressively worse. Now, however, we have achieved near total perfection in communication. She does not understand a single word I say and I refuse to accept what she says.

Yet, for some quite inexplicable reasons, I cannot help but admire her. I cannot help but be thankful to her for what she has done for me all of these years. To construe it as a discharge of responsibility would be to trivialize the intent, effort and an almost uncompromising love.

If, at times, it appeared to be too harsh, it appeared to push me more than what was required, those chidings which appeared to be unsubstantiated and unnecessary, it was just to instill in me the spirit to stand and fight, not to lose till I have lost and to be humble in victory, possibly to teach me that what might win you the day might be responsible for losing you another.

That courage is not just in muscles and more to do with a heart, that being honest is tough yet advisable, that being a good human being meant much more than accumulated material achievements were consciously and subconsciously drilled more through actions, and much less through dictums. I distinctly remember, my friend and I, 10 years old, playing one evening and being the object of quite a brutal verbal assault from a security guard at our locality. Defenseless, we hardly had the ammunition to hit back. She happened to pass by at that moment and stopped by to confront the inebrieted guard. It did not matter that he was physically more intimidating and it did not matter as well that, in the event of an unsavoury incident, she would also be quite defenseless.
What mattered was, she did what she had to and ten years later those two children understood what it was all about.

If not for anything, I have to salute her incredible strength of mind. It takes a lot of courage to tell your offsprings that they are not exactly good looking. And to do it without sounding offensive, without hurting the most precious thing you have ever possessed is worthy of unparalleled praise. Remarkable.

To stand against practically all of who claim to be far more rational than her, maybe justifiably so, to pursue something with a zeal purely to extract the best for me and nothing but the best, inspite of my objections to her thoughts requires a motivation and affection which cannot be replicated.

There will be many and there are, who love me and would want me to be happy in life. But none as purely and as much, as the woman I call 'ma'.

As I look back on the woman, who brought me up, nurtured my thoughts, thought me to think and love and fight and keep fighting, I am filled with a sense of amazement and wonder that whom I thought to be quite 'ordinary', is actually, in reality, an exceptional person. Much more that what she gets credit for. Much more than I could ever be. Much more than I could ever ask off any other I would come to know.

The First Love?

2009-03-04T15:54:00.002+05:30

I met her for the first time when I was eight. She called. To say 'hello'.And she had me at hello. Every morning after that for the next seven years, I would meet her and wonder in awe and amazement.How could someone be so pristine and so beautiful ? My days would be made by her smile, her attention. I was smitten.

I don't know whether it was love or infatuation or a crush. But I so wanted to be with her all the time. Coming to think of it, till today, I think she was the only person who had some degree of control over me without acting pricey. We were great friends, we still are and we will be. But I could never tell her in all those years what she meant to me - the stakes were very very high. I did finally tell her, of course. And I knew it would be quite useless. Or so I thought.

Eventually when the moment came, and it did, I, true to the trend of my life, let it go, opening up a plethora of 'what-ifs' and 'maybes'. At a later point of time, I guess, we both realized what we missed.

What we have for each other today can never be counted as love. I am not sure whether there exists in English a word that could describe it. And we do not even feel the need to. Its pure, its honest and its beautiful.

She never knew it and neither did I for a very long time that our dreams were the same and so were our aspirations and so were our feelings for each other. Today, it does not matter. We will, in all likelihood, live those dreams individually with different people without regret, without remorse, with love and with an assurance that we did exist for each other many years back.

Maybe just for a fleeting second. But we did.

25 Things You Are Better Off Not Knowing About Me

2009-02-19T21:36:00.000+05:30

1. I sulk, a lot.

2. If I were ever to meet someone like myself, I would not even turn and say 'hello'.

3. I think I am smart. Rather, I KNOW I am smart. But I have hardly done anything in my life to prove that.

4. I am surely born at the wrong time in the wrong country. Temperamentally, I was suited to be born in France or maybe in Ireland.

5. I think people who love shopping are weird.

6. For me, whatever I eat HAS TO taste good. No point eating something only because it is good for health.

7. I have an unsubstantiated confidence that I am good at making desserts.

8. There are times when I can be quite...err...mushy?

9. I am a horrible dancer. And an equally bad singer. (I guess we all know this?)

10.I am frantically scared of dogs. Would anyday prefer a tiger to a dog in a battle.

11.I love anything which makes me think. Can't decide whether that makes me boring or an intellectual or a boring intellectual.

12.Cricket was my love. And like all love stories, this one has also gone wrong. I hate it now.

13.SRK was my favourite hero. Now, I think that guy is detrimental to Indian cinema.

14.Sushmita Sen is the only beautiful woman I have seen. Ok - Ingrid Bergman as well.

15.I love politics.

16.Kolkata is the stupidest place on earth. Yet, I cannot be anywhere else.

17.I suffer from commitment phobia.

18.I cannot handle women when they cry. It makes me fall in love with them !

19.I almost always will support an underdog.

20.I have some of the best people as my friends. I think they can walk into any hall of fame anyday. I am hopelessly proud of them and on most days, when I think, I cannot understand why they chose me as one.

21.I have been accused of everything except dishonesty. That is something I cannot tolerate.

22.I LOVE kids. If I could support it financially, I would not stop reproducing. Yeah, I know, you will say, 'start first' !

23.I love my country more than anything else. Really.

24.Nowadays, only two things make me cry - the last scene of Cinderella Man. I just cannot hold back the tears. Its ridiculous ! And the memories of my school - particularly the staircase at the back.

25.Barring 3 exceptions, I have always kept my word. And on those occasions I have not - I still feel guilty. For me, a word given is a word kept.
(This is a repeat post - the credit for this post goes to Paromita, who wanted me to write and post this in stupid Facebook)

Celebrate

2009-01-09T19:12:00.000+05:30

(This post is in response to questions posed by friends on one of my earlier posts)

Celebrate life. Not events. Events are mere milestones and if you ask any traveller, they would have hardly noticed them. To them not even the destination is important. What counts is only the journey. If you are living life to achieve targets, then you are losing out on the very essence of life - its spontaneity and its vibrancy.

Celebrate love. Not by counting the number of years you stayed together. But by that one glance, she gave you when you nearly lost it, by that one touch you gave her when she had nowhere to look. The greatest and the fondest moments of your life will always be personal and fifty other people can never be a part of it.

Celebrate friendship. Not by counting how many called on your birthday or how many made it to your marriage. But by giving what you have, by being a better person for them, by incorporating their best in yourself. By providing one lasting impression which will see you through.

Celebrate excellence. By being relentless. By never giving up. On yourself. On others. And most importantly, on your capability. You and ONLY you have the power to refine yourself. Being good is great, being better is even better, being excellent is the best.

Celebrate youth. Not by dancing yourself to glory on a disco floor. But by watching your children grow, by being hurt once again when love fails them, by allowing or rather encouraging them to make the same mistakes you have made.

Celebrate silence. Our gestures do not need words. When minds meet, words are consigned to the dustbins of frivolity. Proclaiming love a hundred times does not make it stronger. One gesture could be so powerful that those hundred would fade into oblivion.

The fact that you have stayed together for 30 years, brought up three kids who are millionaires counts for shit. What counts is that you hardly felt it was 30 and if you lost track of time, you would think it has just started.

Words Learnt in 2008

2009-01-01T22:10:00.000+05:30

Cynicism: Calling a spade a spade

Reality: Dreams

Illusion: Reality

Beautiful: You to me and me to you

Success: What I have and what you do not. Come to think of it, if all of us were to have everything we wished for, we would hardly survive. That is why envy and aspirations are time tested virtues !

Failure: Being educated without wisdom or being knowledgeable without education

Love: The idea of being controlled but never knowing that you are

Marriage: Expensive

Destiny: Horoscope

Sin: Virtues

Of Messages and Happiness

2008-12-18T12:55:00.000+05:30

Happy Birthday

Yeah, I am so happy that my parents screwed 9 months 9 days before this day as a result of which I have been exposed to the wonderful drudgeries of the gift called 'life' and every year I am expected to spend money treating friends just to be reminded that I have slowly but surely taken one more step towards the grave.

Congratulations ! (On marriage)

This is a classical case where people actually think that it is the best day of their lives. Because the society formally accepts you and your partner and gives their consent to start the process of procreation for the survival of the human race. On top of it, you spend a fortune living up to the standards of marriage set up by society again. Moreover, you have to look at your brilliant best - unmindful of the fact that if you look like shit, there isn't much you can do about it except look like an adorned better shit ! I am discounting the constant negative cash flow which you are going to incur for the rest of your lives. For what?

Loooooooooooooooovvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeee....!

Congratulations ! (On attaining parenthood)

YESSSSSSSSSS ! I have finally proved to the world that I am able bodied. Not only that, I have again performed up to the expectations of the world at large and saved the mankind from possible extinction.

Happy Anniversary

Celebration of the fact that we have stayed together for 'x' number of years without cutting each other to pieces. So, again I spend more money, first on each other, mouthing mushy romantics and then on friends showing them a glimpse of our lives seeped in love.

Thank You (On attending marriages)

Whats so big and significant about attending a marriage ? I mean, I know its a special day in your life and I am truly happy for it. But if I cannot make it, well, then I cannot. Anyways, the betrothal of the bride does not depend on me ! Again, to attend your marriage, I get to spend, first on air tickets and then on brainstorming to figure out what gift would be ideal for you to remember me. As if, that would be the only thing for which you will remember me ! If it is, then please don't bother. Just throw me away at the nearest trash can. Anyways, your remembering me hardly makes my life any easier.

So in all of the cases, whenever you are happy or you feel that you are happy, you have to spend money. And in buckets. Because nowadays, happiness is measured in buckets.

Disclaimer: Not intended for anyone in particular. General thoughts.

Dreams and Reality

2008-10-21T18:34:00.000+05:30

D:I want to be an engineer. And like my bro and dad, from IIT.

R:I ended up being a surrogate engineer. Civil Engineering is looked upon as a discipline which does not deserve the 'engineering' tag.

D:I want a campus placement in one of the software companies , preferably CTS. At that time, CTS was the highest paid employer in software.

R:I got an offer from Paharpur Cooling Towers Limited and started at a salary of 9700 per month, which was the lowest offered at my University.

D:I want to do a MBA, and from IIM Calcutta.

R:After two consecutive shots at that, on the 3rd attempt I finally made it to SPJIMR, Mumbai. Miracles do happen.

D:I want millions.Now.

R:Leave alone 'now'. I can't even see that in the near future !

Now, in this context, my mother wants me to get married. And I have to select my partner. Recipe for a perfect disaster !

If you are in love with a

2008-09-22T19:31:00.000+05:30

13 year old: Tell your friends. Specially the ones which cannot keep a secret. Let all know that you like that girl. If they are half their worth of salt they will tease the hell out of you. And when 'she' asks you to confirm or deny the rumours - DENY. But keep continuing to do what you did. At some point of time she will understand and in her own quirky way will ask you again. That is your time.

16 year old: Whatever you do, just don't be nice. That is a tag which would put you on the same table of untouchables. Be an absolute chauvinistic moron. In all likelihood, you will land up impressing the stupidest of bimbettes - one undeniably hot but undoubtedly worth exploring. If you are already in the knowhow to explore, that is.

20 year old: At that age, whoever kicks first wins. If ever she gets the idea that you ARE there and that you will be there then its over. It has finished even before it has begun. She must know that you are CAPABLE of being there but she is not sure whether you would WANT to be there. The winning strategy is to project the perception that you simply do not care while in effect it might be the ONLY thing you care about! And if by 22 you still have not made it - forget it.

24 year old: If you have not had her at 'hi', then start looking elsewhere. Okay, maybe not at 'hi'. If she banks on you, if yours is the shoulder she leans on, if you are the one she spends maximum time with and if every one of your friends think that you two are going around and you FEEL in your guts that you are the 'one',trust me, you are anything BUT the one. Most likely on a coffee date on a beautiful, bright, luscious evening, she is going to open her heart only to reveal 'that' cute guy's name and HIS adorable, measured adulation that she so craves for.

28 year old: Just show her the dollars. Potential or realized! Or look like Shah Rukh Khan.

The Miracle Worker

2008-09-14T01:01:00.000+05:30

We were 16 then. Self-obsessed. Presumptious. Nonchalant. And like all other 16-year olds - rebellious. It was no wonder that when she would walk into our lives, we would only be skeptical. Specially when you have to fill up a pretty long shoe.

Till that time our idea of a teacher was quite different from what she offered. We looked up to them to protect us, to stand up for us, to tell us where we should go, what we should do. They were conventional in thought, they discouraged indiscipline, they did not encourage an independent thought. They were prim and proper and they were good at their job. Above all, they loved us. Though we hardly saw an expression of that in our interactions. And more so, if you did not set the marksheets on fire.

But Sipra Basu changed all of that. And something more.

She was a lady of uncharacteristic strength, of profound dignity and an unflinching confidence in her own sense of judgment. Brutally honest and genuinely concerned about the well being of her students. Being a teacher of history she harboured no such adulation towards the general leftist tendencies of Mughal glorification or of the typical rightist unadulterated reverence of Gandhi.

You had to respect her guts. If she did not believe in something and you were on her side, she would defend herself and in turn teach you,unconsciously, to defend yourself. But she would never defend you. It was sort of her principled stand that in life you will have to fend for yourself and your battles are your own and only yours to fight and win. If not win, at least fight. She was by no means a free thinker. She was as conventional as any of her age and time. She would not approve of many things and to this day she still sticks to them. But she would never ask you to go by her ideas. Disapproval meant censure in the strictest possible terms but did not imply conformance.

It is unfortunate that such people are under serious threat of extinction. They don't make them like them anymore. My parents had the privilege of having their son come in contact with such a person. But would their son be that privileged ? If not, then his task becomes that much more difficult. Because he knows the role she played. In his life.

Freedom

2008-08-22T13:52:00.000+05:30

I am stuck here. Right at the centre of the rut. And there is no escape. When I am in my room, the walls close in on me. When I am outside, the shackles of the mind hold me dear to them. The rays do seep in once in a while, the sparks of the rain do drench me and do provide the succour but it never satiates. It leaves a taste in the mouth which asks for more.

Sometimes the notes of the octave in their myriad combinations is liberating and more often than not the visual graphics creates a tune never heard before nor felt and those are the only times when freedom exercises itself. The freedom of the soul - if there be one.

And I want to break free.

Would a prisoner serving a life sentence cherish his freedom or be afraid ? To face a world he has no idea of - where everything he knew, everything he stood for, everything which caused his existence no longer exists. The punishment lies in the freedom and not in the sentence. Yet it is the sentence we complain about.

The concept of freedom of being the chief objective of humans is a polished myth. Love is the greatest constraining factor. It limits you in ways unfathomable. So much so, that we do not even recognize it. Yet, all craves for it. And you want freedom ?

Maybe, freedom from love.

Its A Wonderful Life

2008-08-17T13:38:00.000+05:30

If I say this out loud, the cynics would bay for my blood. The realist would refrain from making a categorical statement and would prefer to remain neutral. The optimist, would welcome it with open arms. The film (James Stewart,1946) sends out the message that he, who has friends, is not a failure.

Jay has this theory of quantifying the wealth in life by counting friends. For him, if you have eight friends whom you can call at any point of time in your life without any reservation and you are sure that they will respond, then it has been a life worth living. Now, dont ask me where he got the number 'eight' from. I can only attribute it to one of his idiosyncrasies. But the thought sticks on.

The first time I heard it, I immediately made a mental calculation and was quite satisfied then. That was 10 years back. Today, the calculations have become a bit difficult. The numbers have surely dwindled. But still I can make eight. Just barely so. The worrying aspect is, from here on, subtraction is imminent and addition unlikely.

Those that are here today - might not remain tomorrow. Actually will not. Many of whom I had counted had only flattered to deceive. Some did but without flattering. Some stayed, when I never even counted them. While some were there from the beginning even when I could not count and in all probability, barring the refreshing calamities of life, will be there even after I am gone. IF they can outlive me, that is!

I was always passionate about friendship. Far too much and I realize that now. As usual, mother had warned me of the possible consequences of doing that and as always I had totally disregarded her sermons. Yet like many other things, I remembered it and it seemed to me even at that time that she could turn out to be right. As she puts it "mothers are always right". (Her sample set consists ONLY of incidents where she has been proved right!)

I do not regret the time I spent on them. But I do feel, that I ought to have been a bit more selfish. A little more demanding on myself. It pays well to think for yourself. How I wish I had known Adam Smith and his theory of the invisible hand.

We'll always have Paris !

2008-08-04T23:50:00.000+05:30

When was the first time the heart broke ? Really, really the first time. Do we distinctly remember the incident ? And in course of time when wisdom is supposed to claw its way into our lives, are we, in our acquired rationality, able to justify the actions of the perpetrator and forgive him for it ? Would it unconditionally qualify as the first time when our idea about life takes a beating - when for the first time we are exposed to the unshakeable truth that in life, the colour grey is the most significant ? Much more than both black or white.

I was reading Kundera's 'Ignorance' some time back and was enthralled by its stunning simplicity and its success at emphatically analyzing the effects of what we have gone through in our lives on what and how we would react in circumstances which are vaguely similar, in future. Ignorance asks some unforgettable questions - which linger on even after you have finished with it.

I am not sure how significant those questions would be when one is seeped in happiness, when one is satisfied or content with one's life. In general, satisfaction has seldom asked questions, has rarely stimulated minds and consequently, very rarely created masterpieces.

So, in my opinion, 'Ignorance' would fail to elicit the kind of response it should, for you. And if it does, rejoice in the thought that you are still alive, that you still have not forgotten to feel and that you will have a semblance of honesty when you say "I understand".

When we choose or start to like someone for the 2nd time or rather, the first time after an unsuccessful attempt, we do measure him/her against the first one. To what extent ? And in doing so, are we just living with our past and see a reflection of that in the present? If that is to be true - where is the sanctity of integrity ?

The instinctive response to this by invariably almost all, would be one of incredulity. You will not even try to accept the truth, even if you accept to give it a thought. Since, most of our lives we hardly realize why we are alive, we try to convince ourselves without much effort that we live for someone else because we are in love - the truth could be much more naked, much more disturbing.

We live because we feel that we are living with those whom we wanted to live with and could not. Till possibly the time, our emotions and sensibilities are so stamped upon, so full of our present that we have all but lost touch of our past. And if you have lost touch with your past, I am not sure how far ahead you will progress in the future.

It is tough to really let go, to forget. The beauty of the human mind is that somehow or the other our perspective lets us shift our frailties by that much to make us feel we really have. And what we had was nothing as compared to what we have now.

So here is to "We'll always have Paris!" (Humphrey Bogart, Casablanca, 1942)

Perils of Cultural Nationalism

2008-06-12T14:17:00.000+05:30

(My first political post)

The bloodiest wars in the history of human civilization has been fought on the pretext of passionate nationalism. From the evidence, prima facie , nationalism as a concept seems to be the precursor to imminent destruction. And more often than not, nationalism comes with the package of cultural imperialism.

It is on this context that I am not convinced whether our right wing political parties who harp on the cultural superiority of our ancestors and ask us to be fiercely nationalistic is doing the country a favour or a disfavour. In isolation, being proud of our heritage is good and should be inculcated and appreciated. But that road is fraught with danger. The issue is so sensitive that it could be twisted very easily for pandering to the local sentiment for petty political gains.

Given a free hand, the right wingers would want to go back two centuries into a system which, to them, worked and was responsible for India's truly pluralistic and strong society. They are oblivious to the fact, that preservation of a cultural heritage does not necessitate active usage. Knowledge of the achievements of our predecessors are sufficient. Ask a Scotsman about how they lived, ask an Irish about their way of life, ask an African about their history - in all likelihood they will tell you. Yet they never harped on their ancestral lineage. They still do not. But they are proud humans. Make no mistake about it.

It is important to know that Aryabhatta was a great mathematician, Sushrut was a great surgeon, we had constructed planned cities before anyone ever thought it was possible, sanskrit is still the most scientific language ever designed - but it is pointless to follow what they did, today, blindly without questioning them. If under scrutiny they still hold good, lets use them. If not, remember them with respect and do not be constrained by them.

The freedom of the individual should be of paramount importance. Only that will ensure a free society. Banning events which are not in accordance with our eastern values on the ground of westernization and loss of cultural identity is akin to subversion of fundamental right of expression. And to colour it with the idea of preservation of culture and of nationalism is a calculated insult.

To a nation, to a culture.

The evolution of a society will extract its pound of flesh for good and bad. We have to accept both. Resistance will only be detrimental.

The idea of nationalism as mooted by Narendranath Dutta could possibly be termed as the most comprehensive, most progressive and unbelievably pluralistic. But the problem with an institutionalized dictum backed up by strong religious undertone is that - it is totally dependent on the people running the institution. They might be good today, bad tomorrow and worse the day after.

The only solution is to emphasize the importance of a free thought, even when it questions the fundamentals of our firmest beliefs, which are just a function of time and our acquired knowledge.

Freedom to think, freedom to act, freedom of choice, freedom to express - that is what a nation with rich cultural heritage should stand for. A dissenting voice should be welcomed in spirit and fought by an equally powerful contrary view if the voice happens to compromise our social fabric.

When Shah Jahan Met Mumtaz

2008-06-06T22:07:00.000+05:30

Sparks flew, glasses broke, there was electricity in the air, the mood was tense and sombre, there was skepticism and apprehension and then from somewhere crept in meekily almost cheekily - love.

While Mumtaz was pretty sure it was over even before it began, Shah Jahan was not. Considering his overtly unsuccessful endeavours in the past, he was too reserved, too reticent to believe that it was happening to him. For all that he has been through, it almost seemed improbable. And he still would not admit even to himself that he was swept away by the sheer enthusiastic liveliness of that woman the instant she shattered the glasses.

Now, I have broken tons of glasses in my 29 year old career at home. And the only thing I received was my mother's chidings and sometimes a stinging forehand crosscourt across my back and here my dear friend Shah Jahan gets a woman to spend a life with ! Unfair - wouldn't you say?

Mumtaz is cocky, vivacious, brimming with life, being blissfully and thankfully unexposed to the throbbing pain of unrequited love. Just the perfect foil for Shah Jahan - eternally skeptical and for good reason, never quite believing that someone could be so sure, could be so forthright in expression, in her ability to be pleasantly unpredictable, to hold his hand with assurance of being there - something which he had never known before.

So, there goes the last one of the best of friends I have. Claimed by the flight of fantasy, gripped by the excitement of the novelty of love, of marriage, of living the feeling of being together, of knowing that he also has not lost all of what he had and that he too would discover that its all there somewhere just waiting to be stroked, waiting for the match to strike to light up his life.

The wait ends on 30th Jan, 2009. Congrats!

Boss

2008-06-05T14:59:00.000+05:30

Dear Soumya,

Most people command respect because of their position and I am not sure whether it is more out of fear or out of respect. Some people just by being who they are. Some by their brilliance in their profession. Very few by affection and camaraderie. And even fewer by a combination of all. It would be a bit melodramatic to say that you are a shining example of the latter. But almost all things in life in its intrinsic form are melodramatic and true. So is this one.

I know it is customary to speak good about people on their farewell but I am not the one to abide by conventions. I know of no other way but to speak the truth. So what I write is not what I have to but what I want to.

Professional success and sound knowledge always brings with it that smug condascension reserved specifically for rookies and those who are not at par. The most endearing part about you is that you have given those rookies the leeway to grow with time, expecting them to come up the ranks by their own accord, by their own merit. You expect high standards only because you have set it yourself by your own work. Being assured in your own knowledge and yet being humble enough to discuss them, to listen to another opinion, knowing fully well that what the other guy might take away from you will be much more than what you take away is appreciable. In fact, unfortunately this is seldom seen in professional circuits. Kudos to that!

It was fun working with you. Maybe not working in the truest sense of the word. But being in the same place it was exhilarating. I will remember many of the professional stuff that I got to know from you. But more importantly I will remember your cooperative attitude even when you were under time crunch, your unbelievable sense of humour, your constant digs at Raj and Sham and Pradeep, your accusations of a combined conspiracy by them to vilify you, your excitement at cooking something new, churning out as Milind puts it "the word of the day", your unapologetic passion for Sourav Ganguly and your total devotion to Harbhajan Singh (sorry, but could not resist this one!)

It was a privilege sharing the same workplace. Great knowing that such people do exist. It lets me believe that the word 'boss' could be actually seen in a positive light.

As long as you have your intellect and drive you won't need it, but still - All the very best.

Against the odds

2008-04-02T23:14:00.000+05:30

The problem with this post as I envisage it is how to put it in a way which would capture exactly how I feel. And in some cases I have been told that my posts send out a strong repulsively negative vibe. So much so, that the image that I portray is one of a frustrated, hopeless, insipid chap without strings attached and with nothing to look forward to. Nothing could be further from the truth. And am pretty sure my saying so would not convince anyone who chooses to think otherwise. And in such cases I do what I have done for most of my life till date. Stand up and try at all cost not to let them get to me. In short - fight.

Which brings me to this post.

Perception is not the only thing I have fought against. It is just one of the many. And sometimes I wonder whether it is all worth it. Whether 25 years from now, I would look upon this fight as one I could have done without. Whether what seems to be outlandishly ridiculous would make perfect sense then. Whether I will turn out to be like all 50 year olds who refuse to accept that what they thought when they were young was totally in tune then and out of tune now. Whether my rigidity now is the indication of my reluctance to evolve.

Hopefully not.

The other thing I had to fight and I still am are the friendly curses of my friends. These should not classified as curses, most of them were said jokingly, without intention while some with purpose and a lot of heart. To all of them, my best regards and my very best wishes. Nothing is more precious than something which comes out of the heart. Some of them were said a long time back yet I distinctly remember all of them and what struck me then was that all of these had a potential to come true. So, here goes the list:

"You will have a life, a good one but without love" - when I believed truly that a life spent without love is a life wasted.

"You will get things in life but not those what you want" - when I spelled out the kind of woman I would like to be with.

"Its unfortunate but true - you will always remain a mediocre" - when I could not make it through an exam which others had.

"Who in the whole world would buy a product like you?" - when I compared the arranged marriage matrimonial process as a market and the prospective brides and grooms as products.

"You will never be happy in life" - someone who thought that she loved me and am pretty sure did not and when I asked her whether she really wanted this to happen replied in the negative, albeit a bit unconvincingly.

There have been wishes as well on the other side of the spectrum. But as it goes, good wishes have only one place to go. Its the easiest thing to be blown away by the wind. And so went the wind, dutifully cleaning those up and leaving the remnants listed above in all their simplicity and brilliance.

Meanwhile, I continue to fight. Against my friends, for my friends, to prove to myself and to them that they were right. That finally in the strangest paradox that by screwing up my life I would actually be living for them. Since, I have always won as an underdog, would it not be great to lick them up over and out? That is the only reason why there is a tomorrow. If tomorrow comes.

Furniture & Riviera

2008-03-12T00:19:00.000+05:30

There is something about a dispassionate honest comment. Something which shakes me from my laidback, lacklustre existence and provokes me, pushes me into a labyrinthine maze of utter clarity shining through the dusty, smoky confusion which is ever prevalent in my life. (Whoa ! what a sentence!"I" wrote it??)

This particular conversation like many others I have had with a wide spectrum of people struck me immediately the moment it was occuring. It was as if something profound was being said in the most simplest of ways, without a complaint, without remorse, without any real feeling. Like stating the obvious. Yet, a certainty we wish not to accede to.

My uncle, roughly 75 years old, told me "Our state is like a discarded furniture". He said it without fuss, as matter-of-factly as possible. And on my subsequent protest he backed it up with an argument I could not disprove. His logic was he has lived a life where he has done it all, seen it all and today he has no contribution to make, either in his family life or in his professional life, let alone his social life. So, why live further? In a queer way, it is reminiscent of Adolf's theory of extermination of unproductive resources.

Rationality was always a family trait. But to such an extent! I did not know what to feel. And since, in a conflict of the heart and the mind, I have, contrary to my wish, always gone for the mind, I could not but disagree with him.

Which is what makes me insensitive ?

It lead me to think of the proverbial question which haunts me intermittently and which many in their own right have tried to find an answer to. "Why am I alive now?" and "Why should I live after I am 60?". The answer to the 2nd question is fairly easy at this time - "cross the bridge when we come to it". But the first one?

My explanation is - It is pointless. There is no reason for me to exist. And this I presume holds true for most of us. Ask yourself "What is the purpose of your life?" If you get an answer, then well, maybe you might have an outside chance of having a reason to live beyond 60.

If you don't, then well, just mint money for the time being - we will talk of philosophy later,sipping coffee by the Riviera.

The Fabulous Five

2008-02-26T12:02:00.000+05:30

India has already won the 2011 World Cup. Here is why:

MS Dhoni

The greatest captain India has ever had. That day he started India's bowling with Irfan Pathan and Sreesanth ! Now, if that is not a mark of ingenuity then what is ? I mean, have you ever even heard, let alone contemplated, of a captain starting the innings with his two premier fast bowlers ?! And wonder of all wonders, he even had 2 slips in the first five overs! So aggressive - after all that is what won him the T20.

Gautam Gambhir

India's next Sachin Tendulkar. He actually hits a delivery which is short and wide and deserves to be spanked on the backfoot and cuts it over point for a four. Mark of unhindered brilliance. Of course, he learnt it in his T20 days when he played "without fear". In case you are wondering how Sunny Gavaskar played his game - he was afraid. Dead scared. Remember, his fear got the better of him and he could only score 36* in 60 overs. Ah, the other 10,000 does not count for much. Only that 36 is sufficient for crucification.

Rohit Sharma

India's next Sachin Tendulkar. Oops ! We cannot be THAT lucky ?! Two Tendulkars in one team. Sorry, 3 including the 'real' Tendulkar. Then, we have 3 best batsmen in our team. And I cannot see the requirement of any other batter in the team at all. Ask Ravi Shastri, he will ask you to play 7 bowlers with them. Ohh, Ian Chappell says that Rohit is a combination of Sachin and Lara. Wow ! Now, I know what 2-in-1 means !

Ishant Sharma

Had it been the British media, by now, he would have been hailed as the next Ian Botham. Funny, why no one has compared him to Kapil Dev, till now. Ohh, could be because he is better than him. See, he is quicker than Kapil and he is able to lift it up(the ball, I mean!) from just short of a length (Ravi Shastri says it). Plus, Ricky Ponting is his bunny. And considering that Ricky is one of the best in business, Ishant has to be better than Kapil. Kapil never had Richards as a bunny, you see.

Yuvaraj Singh

India's best test player. He should be drafted into the team at the cost of Rahul or Sourav or even Sachin. Blasphemy you would say ? Naah. He is such a sweet timer, he is at the form of his life and his FIELDING ! Dear o dear, how can you not have someone in the team if he saves you 15 runs ? Even if that is his collective score in 6 test innings ? We are focussing on the future and youth is the future.

Err, just a question. How old is Manmohan Singh and L.K.Advani? Chuck them, NOW. And make Sachin Pilot the standing-in-PM. Or Rahul Gandhi. Shucks ! Our obsession with Rahul and Sachin is just not limited to cricket!

Matrimonial Skirmishes - Part 2

2008-01-24T19:53:00.000+05:30

My partner should be understanding, good-looking, tall, dignified, professionally well-settled, caring, honest and possessing a good sense of humour! (Someone please give her a thesaurus - at this rate she will run out of adjectives!)

Now, lets get to the requirements one by one. This is what a young woman of today wants in her partner in her words.

Understanding:
The guy has to be understanding - in the sense that he must know when to shell out the bucks for shopping, implicitly know when my mood is off for something which has happened 15 days ago and which at that point seemed completely immaterial and was safely consigned to history.

Good-Looking:
Nothing short of Leonardo Di Caprio would do. A George Clooney - ok, worthy of consideration for a full, attentive five minutes but for a Matt Damon - just a casual shrug. What the hell - can't I even have a Di Caprio?! Of course, madame, for that you need to be at least Julia Roberts!

Tall:
Six feet. 5'11" ?!!! You got to be kidding. So what if I am barely 5', can't I even aspire for a tall handsome bloke inspite of compromising for a Matt Damon?!

Dignified:
Basically, he should never tell me he loves me. I mean, he should tell me but not in words. You can't be too obvious about something as precious as love. And he should stand up for his own when we are at loggerheads but he should at the same time finally do what I want. I can't seem to understand why THAT is so difficult.

Professionally well-settled:
What?!!! He does not even earn a million bucks a year? (relax, in Indian currency terms - c'mon they are not inconsiderate!!) How on earth are we supposed to live with less than that? And he does not have the opportunity to go abroad?!! Does he work at all?

Caring:
He must tell me whether purplish-olive green suits me more than magenta-orange when we go out for shopping. And don't tell me he prefers not to come for shopping ! Thats like depriving oneself of the most exhilarating, intellectually satisfying, orgasmic pleasure known to mankind. AND he must have a ready database about the number of shoes I own, the number of handbags and laud me for not buying the 25th pair of either one last Monday!

Honest:
He should always speak the truth. There is only one truth - I am the only woman he looks at, I am the sole reason for his existence and whatever be the time of the day I look ravishingly beautiful. Any other opinion would be construed as a blatant disregard for my sentiments which would render him to be insensitive and hence un-caring.

Good Sense of Humour:
He should make me laugh. Apparently, that is the only thing a woman wants (Read this). Looks like all women are paid a royalty by marketing companies for popularizing Khushwant Singh's jokebook.

All you bachelors with no girlfriends or with no possibility of having one - well, resign yourself to fate and to the basic tenet of Hinduism - that of nirvana. There is only one slogan for you - "Sab Maya Hain". And before your mind wanders off, Maya is not a girl I am talking about!

Living It

2008-01-23T11:25:00.000+05:30

I am unbearably happy today. Which is somewhat of a surprise. The reason is even more perplexing. My friend is happy. And every time one of those who matter in my life is happy I am infused with a fresh breath of life - an incurable optimism, an undeniable lust to look forward to tomorrow.

Everything then goes for a toss. Its like I am living it - cherishing the moment, being part of that sublime ecstasy, of expectation, of hope, of love and of unbridled, unhindered sunshine. I don't know why, I don't know how it is possible to feel like this for someone who is not a relation by blood, someone who is a part of my life yet not my life, someone who is not just a friend but nothing more than a friend either.

Friend.

I have never been in love, so I am not in a position to judge or compare but many years ago we had this debate about which is the most beautiful relationship - one of love or one of friendship. And both of us ironically, had the same answer. And I know today why we had that answer. I do not know whether I have contributed to his life in any way or not except by just been there when needed. I have no idea just an inkling. It does not even matter to me.

Just that his happiness which he is cautiously optimistic and skeptical of, is so pervasive that it is bound to affect any individual near him. It is lovely to see someone in love, hopelessly in love and more so when you know that he is trying his best to be nonchalant about it, when he is trying to portray that it is just another part of his life. And I know that it is not!

To you my friend, to you, for all the glorious exciting uncertainties that this would hopefully offer you, for all the unbelievable moments that you will live through, for all the smiles which you will remember, for all the questions which you wished someone will ask, for all the answers that you always wanted to give but never did for want of the right person - to you is this moment.

For once, I will hope, albeit without success - as always, that time stands still. And for you, it just might.

The Contribution of SCG

2008-01-21T16:11:00.000+05:30

Never has one man caught the imagination of a community like he has. Never has one man stood for the pride, success and character of a community like he has. Never has one man changed the shape of a sport in a nation like he has. Never has one man been so humiliated and trodden upon like he has been. Never has someone given it back to them like only he can.

Sourav Chandidas Ganguly. The name evokes two kinds of reaction. Utter disgust, ferocious hatred or unadulterated, uncompromising adulation. There is however, a third kind. One of respect and admiration. And as always, I fall in the third category.

When I first saw him, I did not like him. Apart from his off-side strokes, that is. But Sourav is neither about being a batsman nor about being a captain. In a sense he is comparable to James Braddock - the boxer who came out of wilderness during the 1930s US economic depression and inspired a nation to fight back - with dignity and with honesty. It gave them hope.

Hope. Now, that is quite a word. Isn't it?

In the last 60 years, Bengal has produced two cricketers of note. Pankaj Roy and Sourav Ganguly. One still has his name written in the record books for the highest opening stand in test cricket - but thats it. Pankaj Roy had no other notable contribution - definitely not to Bengali society or identity. In those times, Bengal had no dearth of people who gave her an identity.

In the last 20 years or so - the steady decline of Bengal, intellectually, politically, industrially, socially - in all spheres of life has been alarming. And its in this background came a regal master - fearless, hungry for success, and one who would not flinch an inch but come back at the opposition at all times.

Ganguly defined Bengal. He is passionate as almost all Bengalis are, he wears his heart on his sleeve - something which has been associated with Bengalis over time, he is political which again defines a Bengali, he does not mince words and is more often than not controversial - which I grudgingly admit is another Bengali trait. He is lazy, as most Bengalis are. And he is non-parochial. He stood up for people he believed in. He did not favour a player from Bengal but picked the best Indian side. And he put his neck on the line, always, without fail.

He will never have a grand farewell. We, as a nation, have never given our heroes that. His contribution to Indian cricket will never be recognized. In fact, except for statistical records, he would be confined to the dustbin of Indian cricket. So, lets not crib about it. Lets accept it as part of life of a 'great, gracious' nation. Let us just remember that for every run scored by Yuvraj Singh, for every wicket taken by Harbhajan Singh, for every century scored by VVS Laxman there was someone who saw it all coming when others did not.

And as a Bengali, thank him for showing what we are capable of. And that in spite of a decadent 30 year rule which has destroyed all what we had, we still matter - to India.

The Seven Wonders

2008-01-15T16:31:00.000+05:30

The best here would indeed be the best I have watched:

1. Life is Beautiful
It indeed is. I have not seen a film where the two halves of the film are so contrasting, in style, in tenor and in its implication. It is hard to imagine that this is a fiction - which means that someone actually thought and wrote it and that makes it so staggering. A film which every mother, every father and every son would be able to relate to. Roberto Benini has epitomised the power of cinema as a medium, through this.

2.Forrest Gump
One of the most eminently lovable creations of all time. The characterisation of Forrest Gump is unparalleled in Hollywood cinematic history. It has no pretension, it is totally American, it is ruthlessly simple and tells a remarkable story.

3.Judgment At Nuremberg
Watch this just for the performances, the lines, the sheer blasphemous yet rivetting premise of the film. Montgomery Clift and Marlene Dietrich hardly has 10 minutes of screen time. Yet their significance and portrayal of a mentally traumatized man and a proud German is something which is seen to be believed. However, Spencer Tracy has the last laugh with the last dialogue in the movie - "What is logical might not be right!"

4. Guess Who Is Coming To Dinner
Sidney Poitier and Spencer Tracy, not to mention my darling Catherine Hepburn, possibly the most significant movie which deals with the issue of a black man falling in love with a white woman in 1960s America does so with a sensitivity and pragmatism unheard of in that era. There are sequences in that movie which if I start to list out will require another post. But the most memorable ones are with Catherine and Sidney. Just as he said "You got to get off our backs!" - should be the uniform anthem for all children dedicated to their parents.

5.The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance
There is something about a Western. But this one would not be classified as one in the true sense of the word. The film has a lot of character and John Wayne as the unrequited macho lover is something. Besides, there is that house with the tree in the movie. Symbolic and touching. Memories. Boon or a bane? Your call.

6.Indecent Proposal
"Everything is for sale, you just have to know the price". That love is for sale where the price is a dream, that it is possible to buy love and not just sex, that love has a way of coming back, that sometimes when you let go you win, that victory might not always be about possession, that love has an infinite capacity to endure - has been put into flesh and blood by Robert Redford and Demi Moore.

7.Once Upon A Time in America
An epic. Par excellence. Four friends, spanning two decades. Sergio Leone's masterpiece. Love, betrayal, sacrifice - it has all the things which are intertwined in our lives. At the end of the movie who wins or who is right is the question. And to this day I am not sure. Four hours of rivetting drama and not a moment's boredom. Can we ever make one like that?

Some which barely missed the cut - One flew over the cuckoo's nest, The Departed, Gandhi, the Day the earth stood still, The heiress, Birds, Unforgiven, High Noon etc.

The Best Five

2008-01-14T14:04:00.000+05:30

The Best of what I have seen:

1. Lamhe
Every time I watch this movie I am consumed by the sheer intensity portrayed on screen. Not by words, not by action, but simply by the breathtaking beauty of the simplicity of the situation. And "Yeh Lamhe Yeh Pal Hum" makes my life difficult every time I hear it. The movie asks uncomfortable questions which have comfortable answers which are difficult to accept and more so - implement.

2. Silsila
That language is just not a means of communication has its greatest proof in Silsila. Four powerhouse performances, dignity and grace all around, tempered melodrama, surreally believable, passion and heart in every word spoken - could you ask for more? Yes. The ending does not do justice. But then leave alone the last 5 minutes. What you get before that is something which has the potential to shake you - out of your belief, out of your skin and make you alive.

3. Hum Aapke Hain Kaun!
I had avoided this movie for the first 11 weeks after its release. In the next 3, I watched it seven times. 13 songs, almost all unnecessary, yet never for once breaking the narrative, a story told a hundred times before but still so very enjoyable.

4. Dhoop
Ah ! I so love Revathy. That a 60 year old couple can exude power, can get you and keep you hooked to the screen for roughly 2 hours is beyond comprehension to our generation. Based on a true story, a take on the corrupt bureaucracy and their fight against it, Om Puri is brilliant, particularly in the scene where he proves that he is the father of his own expired son to a corrupt police constable. An experience of a lifetime.

5. Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi
Ki har khwaish pe dum nikle...bahut nikle armaan mere...magar phir bhi kam nikle...I cannot remember a love story which has touched me in such a measure as this one post Lamhe and pre Khoya Khoya Chand. A perfect example which shows that love has only one destination - destruction. Sudhir Mishra has a way of telling a story. And they do leave a mark.

There are quite a few notable exceptions - DDLJ, Swades, Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar, Yes Boss, Namak Haram, Main Azad Hoon, Damini, Bemisaal, Deewar etc. but the top five can only have 5 movies !

Hollywood next post !

disclaimer: The "Best" here is not in terms of the best I have watched but the ones which I have enjoyed the most...if that makes any sense

Being Bejan

2008-01-11T15:51:00.000+05:30

At the outset, this post is dedicated to my dear friend SRK (NOT Shah Rukh Khan but SivaRamaKrishnan !!)

THREE predictions:

1. The ban on Harbhajan will not be revoked.
2. Brad Hogg will get away scot-free.
3. India will win the Perth Test (provided the Bhajji hearing happens before that).

Lets see whether I can compete with Bejan !

In Praise of Rahul

2008-01-03T11:47:00.000+05:30

He needs no introduction. In my opinion, he is India's best Test batsman after Sunil Gavaskar. And this morning just proved why. Pushed against the wall by criticism of his overtly cautious defensive innings at MCG, Rahul Dravid had only one thing to play for - pride.

Today's innings would never be lauded for its class or its excellence or the impeccable footwork which has come to define his vigil at the crease as and when he has gone out to bat but for all the virtues he stands for, for everything he has achieved in his brilliant cricketing career - a stomach for a fight, a steely adamant resolve of staying put when the going is tough, never giving away his wicket casually and an insatiable hunger for success in adversity. It is only when you are searching for runs after having scored around 10,000 of them, only when you cannot figure out how on earth you will find the gaps which you were piercing at will the other day, only then you will know whether you are looking at greatness or passing by mediocrity.

The match was poised at a very interesting stage. On one end VVS was going all guns blazing with his trademark silken touches and his exuberant wristwork while on the other one man was fighting to stay alive.

And what a fight.

For 36 balls at one stretch Rahul had not scored. The crowd had got into the game. Boos were heard all around and with each passing ball stoutly defended the boos only became stronger. Yet, that did not ruffle him. In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say that, that was the trigger he needed to assert himself. You can just about make out from those eyes that "come what may, I will not give in. I will NOT give in." And just after tea, he took a single, an ungainly push to the covers. The crowd rose on their feet, in jest maybe, maybe in respect and lauded and Rahul raised his bat! He allowed himself a smile and got back to work.

That is the reason why that man is impossible. That is why you have to stand up and respect him. That is why he ought to be every underdog's role model. That is the reason why they call him "The Wall".

Matrimonial Skirmishes - Part 1

2007-12-18T17:10:00.000+05:30

Case One:
What is your designation?
Consultant.

What do you do?
Consultancy!

No,no, what exactly do you do?
Err, I solve business problems.

No response.A blank expression is waiting to greet you. I never thought that explaining what I do would be so much of a problem. The prospective in-laws, in their effort to understand whether I work at all and how much I earn and what are the chances of their beloved daughters getting to try her luck at a casino in Vegas start off with this questionnaire. And I flop, again, repeatedly, time and again. Without remorse or repentance.

I am pretty sure that the impression I give them is that I don't draw a salary at the end of the month and most likely their daughter would end up at one the harems of Arabia and be the subject of a book to be written 15 years hence.

Case Two:
Which company does he work for?
Chainalytics Services Private Limited.

What?!!!!
Chainalytics = Chain + Analytics (MY mom, exasperated and trying her best to hide it!)

Is it a software firm?
No. It is a consultancy firm.

Silence. After the exchange of a few pleasantries, the conversation ends. And my mother asks me to join a software firm ! And I, am convinced beyond doubt that I made the greatest mistake of my life going for a MBA. You see, the software industry being India Shining's mascot has great asset value in the matrimonial market and not been part of the bandwagon is seen here, in this market, as a disturbing trend.

Whoever said that a weak dollar is hurting India? And whoever said that the software market is a commoditized market now?

There was one response which was kinda reassuring. The person said "Oh, even my daughter is in consulting - she works in a placement agency." Finally, someone who KNOWS what consulting is !! Such knowledgeable people !

Shit! I had an offer from HCL Tech. !

What they say MIGHT not mean what they mean

2007-12-10T14:55:00.000+05:30

What is said:: You are looking so young and fresh.
What it means:: Earlier you used to look like a haggard, nowadays you are barely tolerable.

What is said:: You are very good guy.
What it means:: You are a complete moron. And that is why you are lagging behind and you will continue to do so for times to come.

What is said:: YOU don't have a girlfriend?
What it means:: Thanks for reinforcing my faith in God.

What is said:: You deserve the best. Just wait for the right girl.
What it means:: Can't you even see that you getting a girl is more than what you can ask for? The fact that there is someone out there for you is enough of a gratification for you. Be happy knowing that.

What is said:: You are such a charming fellow.
What it means:: You ham people to death. Sometimes we feel like paying you to stop your blabber.

What is said:: You write so well!
What it means:: Please do not waste paper and please refrain from cluttering up the net with your useless rants. There is enough shit out there already.

Righto !

YOU

2007-09-27T22:24:00.000+05:30

I do not know why I suddenly break into a smile out of nowhere in a clear electric blue sky. I guess the electrical impulses in my brain have started its tricks. Or is it the heart?

I have not an iota of an idea in this goddamn world why I feel exhilarated without any substantial achievement both professionally or personally. Is it you?

Why do I want to play, play music, create symphony out of cacophony, feel a pulse which makes me lose control of my feet in the surreal illusionary world of Bach and Mozart?

What have you done to me that I feel that THIS is life. That it can actually last more than a lifetime. That in its sheer, utter uselessness it is unbearably useful?

I am lost, and I want to be found, not by you, but by myself for only through myself can I be you, with you, for you. Is THAT called hide and seek?

Why is everyone talking to me, even those who would maintain a harsh stony silence when I used to ask them the 'why' and the 'how' or more importantly the 'when'? Why are they looking at me in all their glory gleefully mocking me in jest and with that "I-told-you-so" attitude? And why am I not feeling irritated or skeptical about it?

Where has my pragmatism vanished, who has called my senses, in which street of paradise can it be found, if at all?

Why have you taken me from myself when you know I cannot afford it, not again, or did you do this only to prove that I can? That actually I - can.

How the hell am I supposed to explain to my ever-critical mind that my heart says that there is no tomorrow, that what lasts is today.

And today, you are all that matters.

Et All...

2007-08-31T16:05:00.000+05:30

Dreams are dangerous. If I had power, the only good service I would have possibly allowed myself to indulge in would be to strangle the dreams of the world. There is simply no point in wondering what could be when what is does not paint a rosy picture. In fact, if it does paint a beautiful canvass then all the more reason not to think about any great stuff since by law after every great time you have you are bound to have a pretty lousy time. So just enjoy the moment and shut the fuck up !

But there is one inescapable fact of life. Its exhilarating to daydream. I mean, by now, I must have scored at least 10000 test runs with consecutive centuries at Lord's and Eden and must have shot all the communists out there and danced with Salma Hayek and Catherine Zeta Jones innumerable number of times.

In my dreams !

And that why they suck. You have to be out of it at one point and thats when it hits you that, well, they were dreams.

There is one more thing I would like to shoot down if I ever have the opprtunity. The question "whats happening in your life?". Really, in recent times, no other question has bothered me more than this one. I sort of squirm when I hear that and nowadays I even have the premonition that its coming (the question, I mean!) and it starts to tickle me. To me, that is a helluva stupid question.

What is there to happen?
Why should anything happen?
Why should I want anything to happen?
Even if I want something to happen, why should that happen?
The fact, that I might want something to happen ensures it will not happen!

I am an incurable optimist. How else could I explain my commitment and undeniable, stupid fetishness to perfectionism being fully aware that I would be successful 2 out of 8 times, at the max on a perfectly fine, sunny day, 3 out of 7?

If THAT is not optimism, then, what is?

For tomorrow

2007-08-28T13:22:00.000+05:30

Of all the posts I have written so far, this would be the first of its kind. And I am a little unnerved by the prospect of writing something which I am not comfortable with. I have serious reservations about this since I am sure that most of my friends would be equally unnerved and to some extent perplexed by this.

I am happy.

This, is, a transient state. No doubt about that. Before you all start barking mythological philosophies and philosophical discourses about all feelings being transient and life being all about moments and how to seize the moment and strike it when its hot (or hard ?!) I assure you, I AM aware of all that. But for the moment, I am happy.

Now, DON'T ask me why. I, myself, am perplexed no end. I am not a depressed sort, never been one, except for a brief phase in my life, many a winter back and I can safely say that, that was an aberration. There is not a reason in this entire universe which could have transformed my perspective from cautious optimism and confident pessimism to a feeling of utter, carefree, boundless enthusiasm.

Or so I thought! And as with many other cases, I was wrong.

This weekend I went to the best city of India (no, its not Kolkata and I am a wee bit sad about it) to meet up with friends and my two and a half year old niece. Looking at her, I realized why it is necessary to have kids (apart from the usual reason of they being a part of me and my loved one!). It is unbelievable, the amount of pristine joy they can provide and how just by dint of being themselves they are perfectly capable of making you feel on-top-of-the-world. Pure, unadulterated joy.

When you come back home after a gruelling day at office, feeling all lost and tired, then that little bundle of energy, without a care in the world, oblivious to your tirade against the mad, bad corporate world, comes running to you - that feeling cannot be recreated or fabricated by anything else - not even by a hopeless session of passionate, tender love-making, let alone a Ganguly cover-drive, a Rafa-Fedex duel or a Kurosawa creation.

The fact that for someone, whatever you say, makes sense, the fact that, to her you are the world, the ludicrous assumption that whatever you say is right and there is no other supreme being, the exhilaration that is evident when she says the most mundane thing to you thinking that to be of greatest importance makes everything right at the end of the day.

And I guess, that is what makes people look forward to tomorrow. If tomorrow comes.

Epithets and Learnings

2007-07-27T02:36:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, after a pretty long time I was in an introspetive mood. And I just started listing down some of the adjectives that I have collected over the years.

1. Self-proclaimed movie aficionado
I hardly make proclamations except about love, and that too, sometimes erroneously!
2. Self-proclaimed cricket expert
A big FO to modesty, I DO understand cricket. Or am I just been presumptuous, again ?
3. Elitist
Yes. Cheers to capitalism.
4. Left-leaning intellectual
Neither!
5. Opinionated sonofabitch
Former, yes; latter - leave my mum out of this please!

Quite a decent list I should say, considering I have just about completed 30% of my life. Phew ! 30 percent ! So, what have I learnt?

1. Talk less and listen more
Its funny, post engineering days and pre-MBA days, I had lost my words. And had successfully unconsciously implemented this strategy. And it did pay dividends. But
then MBA happened. And it made me a little more educated and slightly more optimistic. And miraculously enough I found the words. And I am not sure whether I should be happy or sad about it.

2. 23 years wasted
All, or should I say, nearly all that I had learnt in the first 23 years of my life, I had to unlearn. The process was quick and was made unbearably easy by a whole lot of incidents, some which has made me write this post, some which has made me tougher but most importantly some which has taken me out of me. Good or Bad? Verdict still awaited.

3. Tomorrow always comes
Irrespective of what happens, tomorrow always comes in to say 'hello'. Sometimes, even when I did not want to see tomorrow, just wanted to shut my eyes and sleep, even then, my eyes would open to a tomorrow staring me on the face asking me to don the gloves for one last time for a battle against time. I have won, I guess. Would I have felt any different if I had lost?

4. I will always be a spectator
Because I lack talent to make it, because as my father put it succinctly one day a lot many days back that I am hopelessly mediocre, because I lack courage, because I have always been hypocritical, because there are still a lot of 'becauses'!

Yeh Mahalon, Yeh Takhton, Yeh Taajon Ki Duniya
Yeh Insaan Ke Dushman, Samajon Ki Duniya
Yeh Daulat Ke Bhooke, Rawajon Ki Duniya
Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye, To Kya Hai ?
- Sahir Ludhianvi-SD Burman-Mohd. Rafi(Pyasa,1959)

Madness

2007-07-25T15:13:00.000+05:30

I am yet to get my hands on Harry's latest tryst with destiny which is his final one and I do know how its gonna end. And I am NOT complaining and neither did I have this irresistible urge to know whether he dies or lives. I like Rowling's characters a lot. Its one of the best books written in some time, thanks to her this dying art has received some interest.

But what's the fuss?

It is phenomenal - this utter madness, utter fanaticism about its launch. Even, 20th century's most celebrated writer Salman Rushdie never faced such mass hsyteria. Neither did Stephen King or Michael Crichton, whose movie rights are sold even before they have penned one single line of their next bestseller. And I am not even bringing Tagore and William into this.

The funny part is that it cuts across the colour of skin, across media, across spectrums, across everything. And more often than not, the repurcussions are negative than positive. Consider the following cases:

1. Diana's death
A woman who has nothing to show for, except her multi-billion dollar boyfriends, whose only claim to fame was that she loved children (show me one lady who does not!) and who had nothing to do with any 'common man' dies while trying to flee with her companion. And the entire bastion of modern civilization comes to a standstill with all whos-who attending the farewell. Never before have we seen such useless, brazen show of wealth and irrationality and maybe hypocrisy?

2. Rajkumar dies
Karnataka's best actor ever died - of perfectly natural causes. Shops were looted, businesses forced to shut down, scuffles with policemen for a glimpse of the dead body - total mayhem for a week in a city which is the face of a resurgent India. Professionally he might have been excellent and his death to be definitely mourned because of his unparalleled contribution to Kannada films, but are we so naive as not to separate a screen image of an actor with his personal life?

3. MGR's death
24 people committed suicide because he died. Our obsession of portraying ordinary mortals as our messiah of hope, of catapulting them to altars destined for the supreme has gone to such a level that the casualty has been the most basic ability of humans. To think.

4. Harry Potter's (death)
People stood in queues for three days to get their first copy! One of my friend, who is a Potter-fan, said "Its a part of growing up!". It is perfectly fine to be inquisitive about the book but 'what' 'growing up' ? Growing up essentially implies an ability to separate propaganda from facts, to look at things rationally as the way they are, to channelize impulse on things which are of some value.

I, of course, understand your basic right of attributing value according to your own choices in life but I cannot understand you attributing it to your inquisitiveness getting the better of you for a character which is fictitious, in a world which is fictitious and something that would only let you know what happens to him and which would have no consequence on anybody's life after you have turned the last page.

Isn't that a trifle ridiculous?

To quote a professor of mine, "A book is a book is a book!" Nothing more, nothing less. And one more "Get a grip!"

Wanderlust to Wonderland

2007-07-09T18:17:00.000+05:30

A house by the edge of a cliff overlooking a vast expanse of a bright clear blue ocean, a stretch of lushy green grass in the front porch, a hammock between two banyan trees, a cuckoo making its presence felt intermittently, a great wife and at least five great children - if I can make this happen, then maybe, just maybe, I might one day be able to look up to my father eye to eye and tell him that finally I have done something worthwhile, that I have not just earned more money than him by doing half his work with half his ingenuity.

Mornings would be spent flirting casually with the fragrance of nearby tulip gardens, jogging with Sushmita Sen and then I would saunter in to the tennis court next door to 'play' a game with Rafa on clay. And beat him.

Since it would sap me of all my energy, a refereshing cup of freshly brewed Darjeeling tea would be next on the cards with Khaled Hosseini listening to how he can magically weave a story with so much emotion, so much intensity without actually having lived through any of it.

Back home an hour later, would spend time with my family, Kishore and Lata being played on the background, kids asking a hundred myriad questions and I sometimes glancing at the laptop in front advising different heads of state on how to run their governments and some fortune 10 companies on how to effectively market their products!

A short nap post lunch and the afternoon session would be spent playing Michael Holding and Dennis Lillee on a grassy Sabina-ish wicket and then bowling gentle outswingers to Vivian. Thereafter, a post match session with Sunny on how to play the straight-drive really straight and with Abdul on how to bowl the googly.

The evening would start with attending a live rendition by Abida Parveen followed by a jugalbandi by Amjad Ali and Zakir Hussain. Over coffee, I would discuss with Yash Chopra how he has lost his mind and how he epitomizes a case in point where excellence leads to utter mediocrity and finally to unfortunate oblivion.

Dinner would be a chicken barbeque on the grass beneath the open star-studded glittering night with sparkling special effects by the fireflies with Harry Belafonte and Pete Segger humming along.

Post dinner, we would lie down on the hammock and gaze away at the brilliance that the universe has to offer and be assured in the tranquil thought of our incredible insignificance in the scheme of things which we have no idea about, drenched in the satisfaction that possibly through love we might have transcended some of the barriers and compelled life to let us into some of its most treasured secrets.

Amen.

The Price of Success

2007-06-13T17:47:00.000+05:30

Its a beautiful world with beautiful people or so they say. Except that I find neither. I think one actually leads to another. Being an engineer I am trained to think methodically and find out patterns where none exists. So my funda is if the latter were to be true in one's life, the former is a foregone conclusion.

Of course, by beauty I do not definitely imply physical beauty. Which sometimes makes me wonder - exactly how many other kinds of beauty are there. And to compound this, there is the inevitability of subjectivity about beauty. And as always, even though I do not seek beauties, I have not been able to remotely come in contact with anyone who would fill my idea of the same. Neither figuratively nor metaphorically. Which begets the question "Am I normal?" or is it that I don't have my specs on or am I looking at the wrong direction altogether. For once, I hope God exists, so that at least I can say "God knows!"

Every evening when I am back from office and I turn the key to my temporary abode, I am greeted with a wonderful sight of a huge empty house, with some useless machines like a television, a laptop, a broadband modem staring at my face in jest saying out aloud "Hah ! Got you again. 27 years and you still have ONLY us to fall back upon."To which I reply with my usual casual nonchalance "Every damn f***ing dog has his day and am waiting for mine!"

The situation is the same every morning. I wake up to that same huge house and the first thing that strikes me is "Isn't it too early to wake up?" or "Why the hell cannot I sleep for 24 hours?".

I have to make breakfast AND have it with the tables and chairs and newspaper to give me company. THEY are such amazing company - I tell you. The very basis of my existence is to have breakfast,evening snacks and dinner with them. In case you are wondering about lunch - for that I grace the tables and chairs of my office along with some other colleagues of mine who do not have such a complete life as mine but are sinfully married! And you can prove it from their totally satisfied expressions post lunch having gulped down everything their dear wives had packed for them early morning. (Alas, they do not have the privilege of such an exciting breakfast as I have!)

The government, opposition, marginals, challengers, secularists, communalists - nearly everyone would have me believe that I being a Brahmin belong to the privileged lot. Ignorant idiots ! They can only guess at the privileges that I enjoy every day of my life. Oh, by the way, in this limited life that I have lived so far, they tell me that I am successful as well.

Yeah, sure. Of course. Great success - tables, chairs, laptops, mobiles, television, music system.

Here is to success. And privileges. And lousy boring marriage.

The Secular Muggers

2007-06-07T15:56:00.000+05:30

Before the likes of right-wing extremists like GKA and the left-leaning liberals like Stambhit pounce upon the title of this post, here comes the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Religion has nothing to do with this post. This is an a-political post.

I am bestowing the honour upon the quintessential Bangalore auto-rickshaw drivers for making their way into my blog because of their all-pervading, ever increasing exploits which would I am sure put them in the altar of greatness along with other Kannada greats in due course of time.

They are the principal characters of this post. It is a tribute to them.

Auto 1:
Expectant Passenger (EP): Richmond Circle jana hain (Around 10 Kms from the place)
Rick-Driver(RD): (No response. Just a shake of the head - like swatting an irritating fly away from your ears.)
EP: (Still waiting hopefully)
RD: Taking a more human approach, deciding that a response might not actually compromise his self-esteem - "Traffic bahut. Too far"

Ohh ! That's news. I did not know that traffic in Bangalore was too much !

Auto 2:
Still Expectant Passenger (SEP): HAL jana hain ( 2 km from the place)
RD: "Bahut paas hain. Walkable distance"

Thank you. I NEEDED that information. You see, he is doubling up as a driver and a portable information kiosk !

Auto 3:
EP (This time not 'expectant' but 'exasperated') : Bhaiyya, aap ko kahan jana hain?!
RD : Jannat (Thinking)
EP : Jahannum, you mean ! (Thinking back !)

This 3rd scenario is the most likely scenario that you are likely to face if you land up here in the "City of Gardens" with no gardens. But as one incurable optimist, in love with Bangalore and its gardens pointed out :

"True to Indian ethos, they are all completely secular. They do not distinguish whether you work in IT or HAL, whether you are a Kannadiga or Tamil, whether you are rich or poor, whether you are anything or nothing. They are humane in their approach - their only criteria for mugging you is that you should be human or look like one. They are professional muggers and they just happen to drive autos in the pastime."

It is of course mere coincidence that the same could be said of Indian communists as well. Funny, how communism always has a connotation with exploitation.

Things I Miss

2007-06-05T12:05:00.000+05:30

1. My unquenched lust for life

Those were the days. Though nothing has changed except a few more years on my resume, very strangely enough I had never questioned my existence. Living was unadulterated fun. With the usual baggages of complicated, intense friendships, of jilted lovers, of heartbreaks at being ignored or less attended to by people who seemed to be the world then and the certainty of thought which never accepted that this would not last.

Never did the question pop up "Why should I wake up tomorrow morning, what for?" Living was part of life.

2. My illicit relationship with Kishore, Asha and Lata

Yes. Them. Those singers. There was not a day I spent without being drowned in the intoxicating voices of these people. It seemed almost all the songs that they have sung were a reflection of my life. As if they were written for me. I was the audience they had in mind, when they sung it.

a. Pal Pal Dil Ke Paas
b. Rula Ke Gaya Sapna
c. Tere Bina Jiya Jaye Na
d. Tujhse Naraaz Nahin Zindagi
e. Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaye
f. Bhanware Ki Gunjan
g. Baadi Sooni Sooni Hain
h. Tum Pukar Lo
i. Hain Apna Dil To Awara
j. Kahin Bekhayal Hokar

If I could have written any one of those songs or sung them, I think I could not have really asked for anything more in life. Every song, every emotion has a time and all through the years at some time or the other one of these were my life.

3. School

I don't need the money. (Actually, I do) Just give me a slice of that life I had, for all of thirteen years, and I am willing to give you all the collected movies, books, cassettes - any damn precious thing I have.

I have not been there for the past 6-7 years, yet, I can remember everything that has happened out there which had left indelible marks in my life. It is such a draining experience, so rich in content, so riveting in emotion that the mere thought of those moments fills me with a sense of nostalgia.

4. Jadavpur University

The only place which has given me much more than I have. When it comes to JU, there are only two kinds of memories I have - very good ones and excellent ones. I was fortunate enough to have practically all of my school friends with me out there. Yet, those of whom I picked up there, I suspect, could turn out to be some of the sweetest ones I can have over my lifetime.

5. SPJain

I frankly did not enjoy the first two months. In a B-school, time is at such a premium that it is very difficult to know people the way it is required to be known.

If in life, I never get to feel unsure about myself or lose my confidence or my ability to break out of my comfort zone and venture out into unexplored areas, I have to attribute it to this place.

Finally, all places are about people. I have never realized how it happens - that I have met so many brilliant people everywhere. And I am even more surprised that they would value in me to have remained friends since. But I guess, that is due. Things do get compensated one way or the other. You win some, and you lose some. I have lost my life, but picked up some priceless things on the way. Cheers to that !

The First Day

2007-06-01T14:20:00.000+05:30

1015 am - Office Car Park

Warman and I, after a long, tedious journey and exhibition of unwavering concentration, crafty manoeuvering skills and patience finally made it - to our office. (I have no doubt that Warman would beat Alonso any day, on Bangalore roads!)

The first day. We did not exactly expect a lavish reception with flowers, cards and long-winding smiles and encouraging pep-talk (that happens at the Ritz Hotel, New York - we had a case study on that!) but what happened out there beat our expectations hands down.

1020 am - Office

Voila ! The office gate. Two striped glass-doors. One huge rectangular glass sheet on the side which proudly proclaims that THIS is the haven of the "best analytical minds in Supply Chain Management" and we both staring at it with a sense of pride and achievement at having made the cut. Then, we see that in all its glory, the doors are LOCKED. Yeah, locked. And you saw the time right !

1030 am - Bench Outside Office

Now, since our Senior Manager is in by 1030 we had decided to wait outside our office where there are some wooden benches a-la the ones besides Thames, London.

Now, I must accept humbly that I have never been to London, but over here I do acknowledge the contribution of my dear friend, philosopher and guide Karan Johar for allowing me to have a taste of London from the cosy comforts of the front row of a theatre. So, we both, Warman and I, sat down (NOT a-la Kajol & ShahRukh!) and discussed India's economy, shares to invest in what company, what would be the implications of Mallya's 'friendly' investment in Air Deccan. (We are MBAs, our discussions are strictly business-oriented!)

1045 am - Still There

15 minutes, by which time we have by using our awesome analytical skills have narrowed down and nearly found a solution to India's economic problems as well as our current financial ones, we decided to call our Sr. Manager.

"I am working from home today. Yesterday, Gaurav had not come. Nilesh will come at 12. Am not sure whether Raj would make it today. And Milind's bro is in town. So, he might as well not be around. Call up Milind to enquire about Raj."

By this time, we both wanted to say "I'm loving it!".

1100 am - We will Join TODAY

Having called up Milind we were assured that Raj would definitely be there and we assumed by default, before Nilesh. Hope, you see, hope !

1125 am - Made It !! Nearly :(

25 minutes later Gaurav turns up.

During this time, we had concluded without any doubt that we are at the right place. THIS is where we were destined to work. No fixed time to enter office. No compulsion for new entrants to be skeptical, to be unnecessarily formal - THIS is what a workplace should be like. It reinforced our idea that there ARE people like us out there who are competitive yet not obsessed by it, who are professional with a sense of balance, who are confident and not insecure, who would not assume much importance to a new entrant but would treat them just as one of theirs. We were impressed.

And then, Gaurav says "I don't have the key" (To which my immediate thought was "AV has")

1205 pm - Finally !

So, all three of us went to the nearby Cafe Coffee Day outlet. And again discussed you-know-what. Half an hour later, we decided to check. And lo behold. There was light inside !

I can bet that of all the guys of our batch, no one would even come remotely close to the experience that we have had. A locked door, a wait of one-and-a-half hour, no induction or orientation - something of a novelty which only a start-up can assure. The indications are positive. Only time will tell, whether this is the 2nd good decision of my life. Till then, continue to do what we did from 1020 to 1205 !

Traditional Conformance

2007-05-19T01:30:00.000+05:30

Non-conformism is undesirable. A great man (I think it was Einstein or George Bernard Shaw) once said "The reasonable man tries to adapt himself to the environment, while the unreasonable man makes the environment to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man". Well, who cares about great men, nowadays, anyways?

I am far away from the altar of greatness, even prospective greatness. If I were born in a different era - an era of philosophers, of thinkers, of historians, of sociologists maybe, by now, I would have already staked my claim to greatness!! But, it seems unlikely in this world.

But, I am a non-conformist. Not a radical, though. But, I refuse to believe that things could be done in one way only. That the beaten path is the best path. I would like to do something - anything in a way which no one has tried before. And it is not easy.

If people realize that, then its only trouble. Either way. In one case, you will be brandished as 'different' and you will not be considered for anything which is supposedly 'mundane' by their own dictum, in which case you lose out on a lot of things. In another, they will try to explain to you, that you lack basic sense of reason and intelligence and that they are the last torch-bearers of the highest form of intellect - that of following tradition.

The explanations are fascinating. And of course, what is spectacular and fascinating, glitzy and sparkling, in today's world, is more likely to be ridiculous and devoid of either rationality or intellect. Some of the choicest ones to have been thrown at the non-conformists and their possible replies:

"Our ancestors were not fools. They did it this way so there must be some merit in that!"
I am sure every one of us have heard one version of this or the other. I have no reason to believe that my ancestors were fools and in the same breath no reason either to believe that they were not. Generations after us, would think exactly the way about us. What they did, could have been right in their era but can be wrong in ours. After all, every philosophy does have a time.

"What will the people say?"
I do care what people think, but only when it does not interefere in anyone else's life. Apart from that, they may go to hell, for all I care. I can only give them an assurance on my part that I will be joining them there!

"My head is hung in shame when people speak to me of your actions!"
If you believe that you have done a fair job of inculcating the idea of questioning every premise put forth, that I will not accept any moral code blindly, unflinchingly, and exhaustively but would rationalize and filter out what is best in all, then you would not be ashamed of me even if I were the ONLY one talking nonsense in a sea of so-called sensible people. Otherwise, you have failed and if you have failed, then the only option left for you is to shut up, sit back and enjoy the spectacle!

"Why cannot you be normal? It is great if my neighbour's children do something of that sort. But I want my children not to disturb the social equilibrium!!"
I do not know what is normal. I am NOT normal. If I am capable of disturbing the social equilibrium, then, well, I have satisfied the first premise by which I started this post - I do belong to the club of 'greats'. And since, I do not, by reverse logic my actions would not even cause the flicker of an eyelid.

So here is to ancestral superiority, set structures, laid-out procedures and societal norms. May you all rest in peace. And let me be.

Catharsis

2007-04-29T14:57:00.000+05:30

There is so much anger. So much hate. So much to cleanse. Will it ever go? Things that irritate to the extent of causing a revulsion within, so much so that cannot even be vomitted. Feel sick in the stomach exactly like being on a swaying ship fighting the wind and the waves.

Full of useless content, content which can never win you anything - neither plaudits nor appreciation, neither a heart but maybe a friend. Those innumerable lines of thoughts borne out of a sense of being educated and just not literate only go to compound the problem. Why did Ayn write? Tagore spent an entire seventy years cutting down trees and wasting space in every Bengali household.

The most dangerous and damned discovery of the human race has been the mirror.

The only truth that emerges out of all the labyrinth of shadows is the undisputable crap of racial superiority. Which manifests itself in various forms in various forums. There was a time when only excellence was appreciated and pursued. How I wish I was born then. At least, I could have said that I did not survive that age. There is honour even in being kicked out of excellence. There was a time when men fought on principles and ideas. How exhilarating those might have been. How very proud those men must have been. If only they knew that they were the last lot.

Could extreme cynicism pave the way for perversion?

A liberated mind is the toughest thing to survive with. It is funny how people try to suppress thoughts which are way beyond their capacity by terming them as elitist or intellectual. Will we ever rid ourselves of prejudice? Will we ever know in the first place that we are prejudiced? Knowing is the first step - rectification or assimilation or acceptance is the next. How would we know?

"Be good.Do Good." That is the worst piece of shitty advice that you can give to your children. Rather it should be "Be opportunistic. Be clever."

Adieu

2007-03-26T01:41:00.000+05:30

Spiderman is dead.
As per his wishes, he be left alone in a corner to let him leave in peace.

Definitions

2007-03-08T16:57:00.000+05:30

God:
Excuse for failure.

Marriage:
The day when you get mentally prepared to live some part of your life alone some time in the future.

Love:
A state of permanent intoxication.

Children:
Hangover of love !

Friendship:
Right to speak useless nothings at ill-opportune times without any basis without feeling burdened or uncomfortable and yet feel a time well-spent.

Adda:
A forum for Sachin V Rahul (Dev Burmans!), Sachin v Sourav, SRK v AB and 'discussions' on any other topic by semi-knowledgeable people lacking perspectives in life.

Music:
Rhythm of life!

Cigarrettes:
The strongest bond cutting across geographies, political inclinations, economic disparity, religious faith, employer and employed and any conceivable barrier created by man.

Booze:
The greatest networking instrument. There are 'booze-friends' and other friends !

Politics:
The most thrilling game that could ever be played starting from child welfare programmes to educational institutions to sports to cinema to legislature.

Religion:
Potent double-edged sword. Reason for all advancement and progression as well as all conflict.

Parents:
Heroes at first, mortals then, outdated and archaic later who turn out to be 'us' later in life.

Cinema:
Entertainment. Abused, misused but NEVER used.

Beauty:
Omnipresent but intangible, comprehendible but indescribable.

Women:
The ultimate test of any algorithm ever written and would be written - with 100% assurance of failure.

Cricket:
Wastage of time, money, resources. All smoke and no fire.

Education:
Means to an end. The end being earning tons of money without any plausible effect on enlightenment on any other aspect of life.

Men:
Invariably stupid, unnecessarily possessive, no bends, no curves, straight and uncomplicated.

Books:
Unbridled, unadulterated joy.

History:
Something which tells us what we will be much more accurately than a tarrot-reader. Something which we have to shed to break new ground. Something which if used appropriately can work wonders. Something which when obfuscated can have severe ramifications. Something which when lost destroys our roots.

Tribute

2007-03-06T14:27:00.000+05:30

If tomorrow does not arrive, a lot would be left unsaid. About people who cared, and who did not, about people who loved and hated and about people who did nothing yet were there when it mattered the most. This is for you. There are three names that I have withheld. I have no problems in revealing them, but giving due consideration to their marital status thought that disrection would be appreciated.

Subhabrata:

If there is hope at the end of the road, it would be you. Ours is the only relationship where I have always got much more than I have given. And this is the only time where I have felt elated on being defeated.

Atri:

Those days of unhindered yet apprehensive freedom, learning our first lessons in life, knowing what being 'hurt' meant, devising ingenious methods to satisfy our sadistic mischievious instincts, to live and die every moment of it - if there is something that I would want in my next life, if there is one, those would be it.

Twenty-two:

Possibly,if at all, my only regret in life. If at some point of life I had not taken the steps that I did, I would have been deprived of the most beautiful, affectionate relationship I have ever had and will ever have. I am not sure, but I think, THIS is what friendship is all about.

Souvik:

You taught me what my parents could not in 23 years - how to look into the mirror and to accept what you see, to know how I am as a person, what I am capable of, who I am. It is ironical that you never aspired to do that. If there is something called gratitude, and I were to have it for anyone out there for bringing me down to the ashes, for letting me hit the dust, I cannot think of anyone else.

Anonymous:

What a revenge ! Hats off to you for giving it back with aplomb, with nonchalance and the same degree of indifference that I once meted out. Remarkable !

Anonymous(;P):

Thank you.

Kingshuk:

Its been worth every penny. Every damn penny, man ! You are testimony to the fact, that there might be something called faith, that justice might just squeak into this world, that it is possible to be sane in insanity and that even if we lose, we somehow win.

Jay:

How I wish I were as magnanimous as you are. How I wish, I had that bubbling enthusiasm. How I wish, I were as spirited. How I wish, I could love so much. How I wish, I could be such a sweetheart. How I wish, I could create an impact as you do. How I wish, I could be so loved.

Saibal:

You gave me my smile back when I had lost it. I just hope that I was able to give you back some of those when you needed it the most. But, I believe, I failed.

Play It Safe

2007-02-13T00:11:00.000+05:30

The phenomenon is typically an Indian one,more so a Bengali one. And it sucks ! Big time. The concept is called "play it safe". The manifestation of this concept finds expression in various spheres of life - some mundane, some exciting, some insipid while some bordering on the horizon of incredulity and utter stupidity.

These are the following scenes that are typically enacted in practically 999 out of 1000 households. Till the time I was cocooned in the comfort of my dear city Kolkata, I had presumed that this was a purely Bengali concept only to be fooled later on in life.

1. Post Board Exams - Choice of Stream

Only in India, does this ridiculous idea of choosing one's career exist. And once done, it is irrevocable. Considering this context, for someone, who knows not what his calling in life is, the safe choice is to go for science. "Beta engineer banega..."

The alacrity by which this decision is reached and the analysis that precedes it will put any McK consultant to shame. It is entirely inconsequential that the person under consideration might not be suitable for science, might have literary skills which if nurtured could be capable of creating something more worthwhile than computer programs later in life. So, "play it safe", do your engineering, get a job, get a life.

2. Post 12th - Computer Science

Of course, if you are an engineer, you HAVE to be a computer engineer. Again, it is irrelevant whether the engineering college does not have a building or a space to sit, or even a computer!

And going by the reaction of India's educated elite, who have their own prism to look at life, condascending in their attitude, patronizing any or everyone who do not conform to their opinions, all other streams of engineering are, well, unmentionable. In all their glee and superfluous concern they would enquire about your son and what is he doing and how well their son is placed and if you happen to exude their same level of nonchalance in mentioning that your son is a Mechanical or a Chemical engineer, you had it. You would be diagnosed with a severe disease of non-conformance to societal benefit and wastage of intellectual prowess depriving mother India of a worthy contributor to the GDP of the nation !

So, "play it safe". Be a Computer Science engineer in a college without a computer, and if you do happen to get your hands on a machine, start churning out Tower Of Hanoi programs, brace yourself, convince yourself that in a few years time you would be part of the most educated labour force in the world. And do tell yourself and all others around you - "I am an IT Consultant, I work for a company driven by values and which looks beyond the obvious and powered by intellect!". As if all others are not.

3. Do an MBA

In about ten year's time, when there would be as many B-schools as there are engineering colleges now, those three letters would invoke the same kind of adulation from the society and equally intense smirk from some exceptions.

Ask any TDH why they want to do an MBA and after you have worked through the maze of "holistic perspective, cross-functional expertise, understanding business, synergies of past,present and future competencies and leverage" kind of answers you will realize that those words are just instruments to camoflage their inherent confused state. When will we ever hear someone say in an interview "Am doin it for money, you know. All work is shit work and if I have to do shit work, I would rather get paid more and do shit work".

Ohh, by the way, these kind of responses would ensure that you are not considered for further selection in case you are applying to institutes which try to blend eastern ethos and western efficiency - whatever that means ! (Shit !I AM an MBA!)

4. Placements @ MBA

Focussed Candidate: "Yaar, mujhe BFSI(Banking, Insurance, Financial Services - for the uninitiated) mein jana hain"
Placement Committee Member: "Tera experience kis domain mein hain?"
Focussed Candidate:"Pharmaceuticals!"

I guess this sums it up. Now, you know why placement committee members become slightly eccentric, little cagey and more so fiercely risk-averse. Such archaic mindset on part of candidates is one of the reasons why in spite of a booming economy and obscene salaries placement committees refuse to do anything different. "Boss, agar sab place nahin hua to?"

If you are a wannabe MBA, and by a magical illusion want to do something outlandish (like not go to BFSI!!) then try to talk to your senior placement guys. If you even get a hint of that statement then, think again. Insecurity is self-mutative, self-procreative. Be assured that there would not be any change in that mindset. Like Vedas, this theory will be propagted through ages by the sages from one batch to another. But you cannot blame them. After all, there would always be that critical mass who would want to go to BFSI.

4. Marriage - What?!! Marry a non-Brahmin ??!

Yep, non-brahmins, non-bengalis, non-tamilians, basically non-you - they are untouchables. Come on, you know they might bite - who knows ? And maybe at the wrong times, at the wrong places ?!!

So you are a racist ?
What crap ! Me ? A racist ?! I am a firm believer in equality of all races except that I dont want my son to marry a non-me. I have voiced my strongest criticism for Jade Goody (I hope I got the name correct. If not Shilpa, please help) when they called Shilpa a fu**ing dog.

Of course, racism is only restricted to absence or presence of pigments and not to absence of threads ! So, "play it safe". Marry a girl from your own clan. At least, they don't bite.

Hopefully.

An Agonizing Wait

2007-02-02T04:58:00.000+05:30

I was 10 years old. And he looked just like me. He epitomized my dream. He was living it. I stayed awake all night when he with a veteran fought all day for India. And I was elated when he did it - saved the match. Little did I know, that it would be the first and last time he would do it. For the next 18 years.

I was fifteen. The time when I first started to understand the beauty of batting. The courage involved in playing an open-chested pull, in stepping out to a fast bowler and
playing it straight over, the skill in casually lazing into a cover drive, in knowing the significance of pacing an innings, in appreciating brutal murder - on the field. And he did all of this. Just started. And by the time I was 20, he was India's most prolific scorer.

Yet, I waited.

For him, to lead India into its first away win in tests since 1986. It never came. I still waited. For him, to score the greatest innings an Indian can ever play abroad. Or at home. It never came. I waited. For him to play a part by scoring runs in the fourth innings chasing achievable targets. It never came. I waited.

For that time, when all doubts would be put to rest - when I would be proud enough yet not blind enough to proclaim in all gloriousness that this man - my hero, is the greatest ever to take the field - knowing fully well that someone called Vivian or Sunil would pose some disconcerting questions. That I would never have to shield myself behind 25,000 runs and 75 centuries and 52 MOMs to justify that. It would be one name. That would be it. In MCG, Barbados, Rawalpindi, Kandy - I would be looked upon as a man from that nation.

I was twenty-five. The flashes are gone, the elbow hurts, so does the spine and also the toe. And did I mention the fingers? Yet, the runs came. I was indifferent. And I am tired. Of waiting. The drives, pulls, cuts have given way to nudges, flicks and pushes. The most talented Indian ever to grace the game still is a handful. Possibly more than that. It is hallmark of that genius that in spite of all this, he scores run-a-ball. A century in 76 balls. And is cocky enough to say that he knows best how to bat. Which he does !

So, why am I tired ?

Greatness comes with achieving something outlandish. Something, beyond ordinary mortals. Things, which you and I would not be able to think of. Let alone dream. Sunil and Dev did it. While one chased 406 the other bowled with a torn ligament and won. In Australia. Both won the world cup - an unlikely proposition at those times. Out of the blue. That is greatness. Barry and Vivian will never scored tons of runs. Yet, they in their cricketing span did things which shaped the cricketing destinies of their nations. They made their mark, they defined greatness. Has he ?

How many series have we won abroad in which he has played a significant part ?
How many test matches have we won chasing where he has made his mark ?
How many one-dayers have we won - which appeared to be impossible to win and which he had made possible ?

So, if he has not broken new ground, not given Indian cricket a new life, a new direction, would it be fair to put him in the same pedestal with those who did ?

I have grown up watching him and the few of the others - 'jokers', who had limited talent, very limited - those who did not get bowled through the gates but fended off short-balls, or did not get out to rookie left-armers but fished outside off-stump and even got maligned as "match-fixers", those who never scored in the bulk but stayed as a wall and pulled India through. These jokers, played out of their skin - much more than expected, much more than they are capable of.

They were my life. They still are. They always will be.

But whom should I give more credit to ? To these 'jokers' who have outperformed themselves or to that genius who has a crateful of runs and marvellous flamboyance which has not translated to anything more but pure visual delight ? The choice is for you to make. IF you want to, that is ! A better suggestion would however, be to rest in the cocoon of the preconceived notions and justify them with statistics or to say that people from different eras could not be compared ! (Let us then immediately stop comparing Nehru and Indira with Vajpayee and Manmohan)

And, I am still waiting. And I am sure you are not !

Heads You Win, Tails I Lose

2006-12-29T23:01:00.000+05:30

Story 1:

The husband reflects on his married life - a life he and his wife have spent for the past 25 years of. A satisfying fulfilling life, with no complaints and no regrets. The wife is dead today. The husband tries to stitch his life again.

In the event he comes to know that his wife might not have ever loved him, maybe not even in the most sacred of the times, not even in the most passionate of the moments. That she had possibly loved another man all through.

Without being unfaithful.

Story 2:

The woman gets a call, early in the morning. She gets ready, quickly. Takes a cab and on the way reflects on the life she has had. A marriage with the person she loved. A marriage of priceless moments, unbelievable memories which could not sustain itself over time.

Where did it go wrong ? Why has she not quit it ? Even after years and years of contemplation, she could not attribute any reason for this. Something was amiss. Something. Something that she could not put her fingers on.

And all through those 25 years she has had only one support - her friend. Her best friend. And now, her friend is on his death-bed. And he wants to see her. For the last time.

She reaches the hospital. Goes inside to find the wife and is ushered in. The man looks at her and beckons her close to him. She sits down near him, hand-in-hand. The man says: "What would not I have given for this day?" And smiles. The same twinkling, coquettish smile. She smiles back. The man continues: "I just wanted you to know. You are the only one I loved. Ever."

Deep inside the woman, something happens. She comes out of the room, acknowledges the wife with a nod, leaves the hospital and on that very day files for divorce.

Which is more tragic ? Living with someone thinking that you are the one in your partner's life and coming to know later that you never mattered the way you thought or not living with one to whom you mattered more than you thought you did ?

Just A FEW Things

2006-12-25T16:51:00.000+05:30

What would I like to change if I were to live my life again - from scratch. What I would want spans across geographies, across chronologies and across every damn conceivable barrier that you and I can think of.

So here goes the list:

1. For starters, I would want to be born in Germany. And if that is not granted, then Barcelona. Ok. Any European country would do.

2. I would want to be a girl. A girl with a sexy figure, brilliant looks and zero intelligence. I would screw around with all and when required would find a suitable billionaire ( NO millionaires please, ONLY billionaires) and settle down. And when I get sufficiently bored with that billionaire, I would again look for greener pastures.

3. In the event I remain a boy, then I would want to look nothing short of George Clooney. (IF I have that, all the women would anyway swoon over me!)

4. I would like to score a century at Perth or Lords against the bowling of Andy Roberts, Michael Holding, Dennis Lillee, Chandrashekhar and Imran Khan. The partner at the non-striking end would of course be either Brian Charles or Mohammed Azharuddin.

5. I would write a book - one which would start like Love Story, then move on to be like The House Of Blue Mangoes, as lyrical as The God Of Small Things and end like The Fountainhead.

6. I would want to write a line in that book which would be as profound as "Teachers get emotional when the topic is close to their heart.. we ought to know where we should stop 'getting' from them and let them explore their fantasy land. By the time they get back we would have reflected upon what we got " (Source: www.kumarshut.blogspot.com) or as heart-wrenching like the last line of Rage Of Angels or Oliver's Story.

7. The film that I would direct would, of course, win a national award and would cast Sidney Poitier and Konkona Sen in a lead role supported by Catherine Hepburn and Naseeruddin Shah. The other pair would be Om Puri and Revathy. The music would obviously be by RD and lyrics by Gulzar or Majrooh. It will be a songless film but there would be a title track and a background score.

8. I would want a house at Nariman Point or overlooking the bay area at Rio De Janiero. As a fallback, Swiss Alps would also be fine.

9. I would like to indulge myself in a 'casual' discussion with either Socrates or Plato about existentialism and general philosophy on a warm sunny evening in front of the Stone Henge.

10. I would still want my friends with me - the same ones. Can't get over them still. Too heady and exciting a time I have spent with them.

Now, don't accuse me of asking for too many things and don't ask for justification. ONLY 10 things is what I am asking for and that too I have given options as well. I always was a reasonable man - I still am.

Being ONE

2006-12-19T16:48:00.000+05:30

This would be one hell of an interesting post from the perspective of a reader. Too spicy and full of speculation - exactly the perfect ingredient of a scandalous potboiler.

Many a time I have felt like sleeping with many a woman. Actually, when I think back and try to count, it gives me a sort of a mixed feeling of guilt and being morally and ethically corrupt even to harbour that kind of a thought. But that does not stop my primal instincts from manifesting itself in my fertile mind (lets for the time being stick to the mind only !)

We all have our opportunities in flirtations and flings to indulge in certain excitable acts designed to give us the highest form of ecstasy. And I have had mine. The opportunities. ONLY opportunities. Its in those times that my own reaction has perplexed me. At those critical times, when the next logical step (whatever that means, in this context) would have led into something, all of my senses except the biological one has always answered in a resounding negative. Somehow, even if I am sexually aroused, I almost invariably felt that something was amiss. Maybe, thats what they call as magic. From this perspective I have never been able to understand the sanctity of a one-night stand. One school of thought is that when you are in the act of having sex, you are not actually having sex but are in effect making love.

If you are an engineer you would ask whats the difference. If however, you are an engineer but not meant to be one - then the difference exists, and in a completely surreal plane. The best partnerships happen in the subconscious. When what you are thinking is understood and reciprocated by the other in a flash. And those experiences are the ones which make it all worthwhile - just to wait, for that moment to come up. Once you have had a taste of water, you will never want sand. Once you know, the heights of ecstasy you can reach by unision of both mind and body, it is difficult to settle for anything less.

One-night stands are brilliant. From a purely male chauvinsitic point of view - ideal. No obligation, nice slam-bang-thank-you-ma'am concept. We get to eat the cake and have it too. No issues whatsoever. But at the end of the day, its just a refined version of a 2nd party masturbation - without any heart, without content, without passion.

The choice is there to be made. Provided, you know which is water and which is sand. And more importantly, whether you know how each tastes.

Do Bigha Zameen 2

2006-12-18T12:11:00.000+05:30

Continuation of previous post:

Should agricultural land be used for commercial purposes ?

My answer is NO. I know, there is an alternate opinion on this which says that setting up of a manufacturing plant would result in creation of direct employment which would result in a greater GDP growth resulting finally in more purchasing power at the hand of the deprived.

All of the above are true except the last bit.

The problem is - those who are affected are seldom benefited. Unskilled labour accounts for a very small percentage of the total employment generated by a manufacturing plant and unfortunately almost all agriculturist (aha ! got a 'better-sounding' name for a farmer) in our country fall in that category.

It is also true that a developing country will have a general shift from an agriculture based economy to services based economy but the price that India will have to pay for that will have serious repercussions for India. Since, the choice has been made, we must be prepared to have a more fragmented disparate society. A society, which will be a lot less coherent than what it is now, a lot more fragile and seeped in mistrust and a strange concoction of anarchy and transient peace.

Using agricultural land would most likely render many homeless, jobless. Where would these people land up ? Most likely, they would migrate to the more populous, opportunity-filled cities causing severe strain on the existing infrastructure of the already saturating cities of India. What would they turn to for sustenance ? While it would be too pessimistic to assume that most of them would turn to anti-social means, it would not be too much of a travesty to assume that a fair percentage would. What are the implications of that ? In the context of the basic mistrust that would result from the initial land acquisition fracas and the economic disparity - it would just compound into a more unsafe India.

What in the final analysis it might mount to, is that, the very aspirations of the society that we are trying to fulfil - economic liberation, peace and prosperity for the general mass, by all such means would be destroyed by the process of 'getting there'.

Does it mean that we stop industrialization ? Definitely not. But our growth story has to be inclusive. If we think of the rural India as a burden and something that can be disposed off with - we might be in for a very very rude awakening.

Amartya Sen, in spite of being a socialist, somehow made sense when he highlighted this a lot many years earlier as a possible problem which we will have to face.

Do Bigha Zameen

2006-12-16T12:45:00.000+05:30

By definition, the left is never right. The Chief Minister of West Bengal in his mission to industrialize the state (which they themselves had de-industrialized way back in the 70s and 80s)had committed to the TATAs of handing over 997 acres of land for their new manufacturing plant to be set-up for the 1 lakh car.Everything fine so far. The whole of Bengal rejoiced at this new opportunity which would create a minimum of 12000 jobs in the next year.

So, whats the hitch ?

The problem started when the Government started acquiring land. There are primarily two issues out here.

1. Is land acquisition from farmers against their opposition correct ?

2. Should agricultural land be used for other commercial purposes ?

Two incredibly critical issues - on which opinions would be starkly divided, battlelines drawn between the urban and the rural India, between famers which account for about a sizeable chunk of our population and a new aggressive Indian mindset which believes that compromise and discussion only complicate matters.

Lets look at the first issue in this post and I will take up the second one in the following post.

Consider a hypothetical situation - a purely hypothetical, mind you. You have a home and you are staying there for a minimum of twenty years. You do not have a fixed monthly income. You earn your daily bread and on some days you dont earn anything at all. On others you earn about 50 bucks on an average. You are uneducated and have no skill. You only know how to raise paddy and rice. The beauty of the situation is compounded by the fact that you are also responsible for the life of three other people. So effectively you have to spend a day within 20 bucks.

Now, I come to you and tell you that I need your home. And in return, I PROMISE to give you 10000 bucks which you have to collect from my secretary at office.

What would you do ?

Had I been in your place, I would have GENTLY said "Fuck Off". Mind you, gently - at first. Then if you pester me and come back a fortnight later with 12 strong, well-built, nice muscular men, I would feel a little intimidated but still resist. On some more 'persistence' I would finally come to the negotiating table and give you my consent. The next day, I would go to your office and ask for the PROMISED sum only to be informed by your secretary that after 'his service charge' the payment would be about 2500 bucks.

So what has been done ?

You got my house, my land, the ONLY thing I had, and you don't even give me peanuts for it and if I resist you brand me of ignoring the implicaions of greater societal good and you of all, finally wax eloquence of social responsibility !

How do you expect ME to think of societal benefits when none would accrue to ME when apparently everyone is thinking of mine while in REALITY none is ? It is MY land, my existence, my roots are there - you want societal benefit, please go ahead and do so at your own place.

This is what rural India is saying out - loud and clear.

Are we listening ? More importantly, are we able to appreciate their problem ?

Cry Freedom

2006-10-19T15:12:00.000+05:30

This post would be a sort of a tribute to the two editorials I came across in two newspapers. One in Times Of India (yes, surprisingly!!) and the other in Hindustan Times.

One about a woman who has been on a hunger strike for six years fighting for respect, dignity and a life worthy of a citizen of India and another concerning the judiciary system of India and how it is unfortuantely playing into the hands of mass appeasement of the publich thirst for vengeance.

In this post I will talk about the former.

Irom Sharmilla is a woman from Manipur - a state torn apart by continuous conflict which has led the Indian government to impose the ASPA, which basically gives the Army a freehand to monitor every aspect of life at Manipur.

While almost invariably in cases of human rights the armyman is at the receiving end of the pseudo humanist, who ridiculously voice their support for the same set of people who aid, abett terrorism both directly and indirectly - in this specific instance it can be said and not without reason that they have erred. Had it been a case of an ambush of a group of people for security reasons or even for that matter carrying out an operation against seemingly innocent people,however irrational it may sound, it would still be acceptable.

What is not acceptable is the violation of women, sexual exploitation, and total disregard for the very citizens and the structure of the society which they are sent to uphold.

I, for one, believe that the degree of civility or the moral advancement of a society is indicated by the position of women in that society. Whether the right of a woman is perceived as equal to that of a man, whether a woman is looked upon as an object of sexual merriment or just another citizen and whether she is not been discriminated against just because she is a woman - all of these are vital parameters for any civilized nation to judge itself. In spite of India's resurgence in areas of trade and commerce and a continuously expanding high-disposable-income Indian middle class, as a country we are probably taking two steps back for every forward step taken.

Irom Sharmilla has fought for the last six years. If she lives for the next six, she is going to die anyways. But she has shown what it takes to take on an establishment which enjoys a hallowed position in our minds and 543 parlamentarians without resorting to any kind of violence and only with the faith, that some day, we might, just might uphold the basic right of civilization - freedom.

Icing On The Cake

2006-10-12T21:45:00.000+05:30

That day I was very happy.

That is something, you know. I mean, I have never felt happy like this before, where I can view my happiness objectively. It is funny that when you detach your feelings from yourself how wonderful life suddenly appears to be.

I called up my friend a few days back. His marriage is round the corner. And as with every relation, it was expected or apprehended that things would not remain the same post marriage between us, considering the fact that the entire time would be invested towards a satisfying, fulfilling married life. So, when we were talking about a possible post-marital meeting I was quite stunned with the ease with which it was accepted that we would not be in touch.

And it made me real happy.

But there was an icing on the cake to this. The fact that I would not in most likelihood be able to attend the marriage was absolutely aggreable to my friend.

And it made me real happy again.

What's in a marriage day anyways? The sun rises on the same direction and sets in the same. And there are 24 hours in that day. Basically, it is just another day. Just that, on that day something changes. And it is supposed to be the most important day in one's life.

After I kept the phone down, I just wondered for a moment. Just for a moment, mind you.

Somehow, in this incredulously happy moment I was able to appreciate others more. Those who were moronic enough to stand by promises made in golden evenings during lovely walks and nonsensical chit-chats in school bunked afternoons, those who cared not to forget and those who care still to want me to share a "homogenity of a lovely experience".

Looking For Howard Roark

2006-10-11T23:18:00.000+05:30

I have no problem with religion as long as it does not encroach upon the right to not believe and yet be accepted as perfectly normal and not branded as a communist (or whatever). But there is one question which has intrigued me time and again.

Why is it that we believe in God?

I have a few theories as to why. These theories, as in most cases, with almost all of the beliefs that I have on every conceivable thing on earth is borne out of books I have read, articles I have come across and most importantly the fruition of many ‘adda’s that I have had with friends.

Theory 1: Lack of Confidence

It goes like this. We are all basically mentally very weak. The fact, that we are incapable of handling defeat or adversity on our own, the very unwillingness to admit that our success or failure may be due to our incapacities or due to a combination of various factors which by simple probabilistic calculation can occur and is no exception leads us to assume that there exists someone out there who is controlling everything.

And I fail to understand it.

Many a time I have heard people say “Its destiny”. I, for one, would like to believe that man makes his own destiny. To me it’s a simple case; there are ‘n’ number of persons in this world. And they are vying for ‘x’ number of things where x is always way smaller than ‘n’. So isn’t it obvious that for majority of the times a lot many people will be deprived of things they want?

Now, the question is who or what decides which amongst those would be the chosen ones. Ability. And a variety of other factors which are completely unconnected to one another. (Now, if 'that' is called GOD then I have no problem) If we were to fail in our endeavours, we would tend to turn a blind eye on ourselves and try to find a scapegoat, an entity whom we can blame.

We do not have the confidence in our abilities or in our rational minds to comprehend and more importantly accept that we have not succeeded. That GOD has nothing to do with it. That it just did not happen. Like many other things which have not and like many others which will not.

Theory 2: Lack of Guts

It takes a lot of courage to believe that I am responsible for my actions. And whatever is bequeathed upon me is due to my own actions or inactions. I depend on no one, certainly not GOD and if I were to succeed the plaudits should entirely be mine and if I were to fail the reasons should only be attributed to me. Or an acceptance that on that day and time someone else was a shade better than me.

I am yet to see such a person. Apparently, communists are atheists. If that is the case, I would like to meet one. Communists by definition are neither atheists nor socialists, they are opportunists.

But would it not be wonderful to know that there exists someone like that?

Theory 3: Upbringing

This has possibly the most prolific effect on us. From the very day we are in our senses we are taught to pray, taught to believe that for anything that we intend to do it is essential to ask for HIS blessings and that whatever happens HE is there.

The mind at that young an age does not have the power to reason and for many intricate and sensitive incidents of lost toys, injured egos, hurt feelings we turn towards HIM. That is the begining. And from then on, it moves in only one direction. Before any major examination, before proposing to a girl, before the first job interview, after the dream job - everywhere HE is supposed to answer.

Shall we ever realize that if we play to our full potential and always believe that the intrinsic ability of man is far more powerful than any single entity, we can create something which might, just might be better than the best HE is supposed to have created?

Shall we ever find a Howard Roark?

Two Sides of the Same Coin

2006-09-19T16:00:00.000+05:30

Scenario 1

Boy says to Girl: I have to talk to you about something important. Can we meet tomorrow at 6 pm at the Cafe Coffee Day?

Note:
The two interesting aspects out here. The specificity and the planning or the degree of detail with which this statement is made is the hallmark of any Boy.

Implication:
The Boy is madly in love with the Girl, or so he believes and is desperate to tell the Girl. Most importantly, and incredibly strangely he is acutely aware that the answer is most likely going to be a confused but confirmed “No”. In such cases, it can surely be statistically proven that the answer would be somewhere in the lines of “Whaaaaaaaat? HOW can you even THINK about it? You are a very good friend of mine. But I have never thought of you as someone else !!”

Post Meeting:
Boy comes back with a bewildered face which gives you the impression that the entire responsibility of the well-being of the world is on his broad shoulders. He tries to find out what the statement actually means and what is it that made him just a “good friend” and not something else. And he keeps on thinking about this for the next “x” number of years.

Scenario 2

Girl says to Boy: It has been a long time since we have talked about something serious.

Boy responds: Ahh. But we talk all the time (meaning you talk all the time and I just listen!! You want more of that ?)

Girl counters: Yeah, we JUST talk all the time. But we need to sit down and discuss.

Boy: (By this time, in cold perspiration at the impending doom) Ok, can we talk over the phone? I mean, if its just for talking, we can chat over the phone, can’t we?(blabbering now incoherently) I mean the telephone was discovered because people could talk.

Girl: (Exasperated) Don’t you think we should meet up?

Boy: Ok. When and where?

Girl: Any place. I am ok with anything.

Boy: Ok. 6 pm at CCD then tomorrow.

Girl: 6 pm is a little too early and tomorrow is impossible. My maternal aunt’s paternal uncle is coming over tomorrow! And CCD!! You do have a horrible choice!! How about day after at the Barista?

Boy: (Wondering why Barista is a better choice than CCD!) Yeah, fine, and at what time?

Girl: Ohh...say about 6-30 pm?

Boy: (Now completely at a loss!) Ok. See you there.

Note:
How the Girl finally had her way. Right from the start. To the end. And the complete utter absence of the word ‘planning’.

Implication:
Serious issue. Damn serious issue. Girl is in love with the Boy. Boy, as is evident, fully understands this and is not too keen to meet. Again, the sense of the answer would be the same but the way it is presented would be a little different. “I don’t love you. I am sorry but there is nothing I can do.” To the point, insensitive, no candy-floss KJo type of melodrama and no “I don’t want to lose you as a friend” dialogue.

Post Meeting:
Girl comes back, eyes all swollen. A family meet is called and mom and Dad get to know about the whole affair. Within a day, all of Girl’s friends get to know about this and almost all of them in their next meeting with the Boy gives him that “You-mean-insensitive-senseless-heartless-creature” looks.

A Month Later:

Boy meets Girl.
Arm-in-arm with another Boy!

A Week Of Broken Hearts

2006-09-18T01:13:00.000+05:30

It hurts, you know, it hurts like hell !

And there is nothing you can do about it. In spite of being rational, being practical and all that, finally emotion wins. A battle we know we will lose even if we have the armoury to win against it.

This post will be a queer one. I can already sense it.

I have stopped looking for answers to all my questions - most of which are rhetorical in nature and yet, life comes to me like a punctuation and compels me to revisit those questions from time to time. And again, I have no answers. Actually, the answer is that I have no answer.

The last week has been strange. Pretty eventful. Well, for once, I was not at the centre of all the events. Though, it did not affect me any less. Somehow, there is always a tug at the chords of the heart for people who matter. Even when you are as objective as one can get. Or would cynical be the right word ?

Three affairs. All over. A grinding heart-wrenching full-stop. And to three wonderful people I have known. And I am helpless, that in such times I cannot do anything but listen. Only listen. I have no other option. It is ironical that the words dry up when you need them the most. Everybody betrays at precisely the right moment. Even the words. Its frustrating. The point is whatever I say, would not make sense, would not help. Yet, I can identify with them no end and I can only tell them things that I have learnt when faced with such things knowing fully well that people only learn it one way. Experience.

How I wish, for once, that I could be a little more empathetic, how I wish I knew what to say, how I wish I could feel, how I wish I could tell them "Yeah, I know, it hurts - like hell !"

Just and Fair

2006-09-08T13:37:00.000+05:30

Sometimes I think she was right. Actually as my friend would correct me always, at most times I think she was right. We were actually not meant to be. Its funny how certain phrases stick. Through thick and thin. How they unconsciously create an impact.

It has happened to me throughout my life and never ceases to amaze me and the people around me. Strange, but I somehow seem to remember the most idiotic things - said and unsaid. The problem with the unsaid things are that you can never be sure(to which my friend again would reply in his typical acerbic tone and sleepy eyes "Its so profound!!") And the problem with the said things are that, well - they are said.

It is always possible to recognize happiness when you see it or hear it. The person changes. I had seen that before on one occassion but this was quite revolutionary. Considering the fact, that she never knew HOW to be happy. And I am pretty sure, I can never make her THAT happy - even if I lived a million years. Which is what makes me realize that she was right.

Its again funny, when you look back at things which you felt at some time to be incredibly important, you wonder WHAT was in it that was so great. And you simply laugh at your own predicament, embarrassed by your own stupid actions. Or inactions.

Somehow, miraculously I have this habit of going for the wrong things. If I were an
investment banker, I can just shudder at the thought of the state of the company. Anyways, I am sure that we would have made a wonderful couple. Now, this "we" and the other "we" are different - of course !!

When we have this conversations nowadays, about things - in general, about crap and all, I sort of understand the price of inaction.What was I thinking? The answer is I was not thinking - which has somewhat become a trend with me nowadays.

Opportunity lost. Regrets? Ah, sometimes (This time STRICTLY sometimes!)

A moonlit night on a sandy beach, a boat in the distant sea is too attractive a thought to let go. Life is absolutely fair and just. You always realize the best things only when they are past you.

Love Stories

2006-08-21T16:30:00.000+05:30

There is something about women. Something which I cannot describe. Something intangible. Something inherently sexy.

So, when a girl, tilts her head at five degrees, gives me that wonderful smile, looks at me straight on with some sort of innocence (every girl has innocent eyes - even the bitchiest of them !) then it just drills through my heart. And I can feel the adrenaline, the chemistry, the incredible possibilities of a fulfilling romance just round the corner - all because the girl just stopped and said 'hi' ! (sometimes they don't even stop !) I lose all of my senses, my logical, pragmatic, rational thinking which I am so proud of just seem like utter nonsense.

According to some, I am an "intellectual Bengali" (since Judgment At Nurmeberg is my favourite movie!) synonymous with being a compulsive thinker. And since this case already has 'enough' material to think about, I start thinking. The eternal question that bothers me always is "WHY did she say 'hi' to ME?"

The possibilities are of course, invariably many. But after a ten to fifteen minutes of nerve-wracking, brainstorming session to find out a plausible answer, I come to the conclusion - that it was 'just' a 'hi'. Yet I seem to fall in love with her.

And if this brief encounter is followed up the very next day by a substantial "How are you doing?" then all hell breaks loose. The next thing that I start thinking about is whether 'we' are mentally compatible, whether she has that laidback sexuality about her, whether we can spend a nice, quiet evening at the Marine Drive !! (Yeah, I AM an intellectual Bengali !!)

If by a miracle, there occurs a further epilogue to that conversation, then I just hit the roof. Marriage, is the next logical step. I try to visualize about all the beautiful things that would be part of 'our' world, the movies we would watch together, the dinners we would have, the places that we would enjoy - all in a flash. Sometimes I just stand in awe of my ability to visualize and imagine creatively ! (Amit is right, I should have been in Marketing - though they don't really 'think' in Marketing but I am ready to sacrifice my honourable epithet of an intellectual Bengali)

This is not a one-off event. It has happened time-and-again. And continues to happen. And it is wonderful. It is so much fun, so exciting to build castles of non-existent love stories, of splendid unspent evenings by the seaside, of sharing sublime moments of bliss through silent conversations and of all the untold stories of hurt and passion which will never find expression.

This is what life is all about, isn't it ?

Thats it

2006-08-21T16:22:00.000+05:30

Just one word.

dependence.

Thats it !

The Cinderella Man

2006-08-15T02:30:00.000+05:30

No, this is not about James Braddock. But this is about what he stood for. To the americans of 1930 James Braddock stood for hope in a rubble of depression, unemployment and hopelessness. This is about that same spirit - of hope. And the torchbearer of that hope is none other than Karan Johar !

Apprently, Indian cinema is now being recognized by the rest of this world. We have successfully beaten the demons of ignorance of the rest of the world and they have woken up from their deep slumber only to find that their worst nightmare has come true ! There is a school of thought which argues, and quite forcefully too, that our movies are 'different' - and besides there is absolutely no need for us to 'ape' the Hollywood style of movie-making and that our song-dance routine is the most marvellous piece of discovery in the history of cinema. Indeed, Charles Chaplin and Sergei Eigenstein would have been proud! And this giant stride of the Indian cinema is being accentuated by none other than Aditya Chopra and Karan Johar. Obviously not Madhur Bhandarkar, Nagesh Kukunoor, Ram Gopal Varma, Shimit Amin, Vidhu Vinod Chopra (Who are they !)

Today I watched Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna (KANK) - Karan's latest offering.

It is a wonderful movie. It is the best movie ever to grace the Indian screen. I am incredibly happy that such a 'bold' subject has been taken up by Karan Johar and even more happy that the Indian cinegoers are fortunate to have amongst them in this generation a director of his ability. Let us get back to KANK.

KANK is a rivetting, short, crisp drama of only three hours and thirty-five minutes ! It is about a love that broke all relationships unlike Johar's previous offering where it was only about loving your parents. Basically, after you have had enough of your parents, you can now think of loving your lovers !

Such is the power of love in the movie that the people who are in 'love' are actually apologetic about it throughout the movie and have to do penance for their unholy act of falling in love. The first half of the movie is about realizing that the lovers are in love. The second half of the movie is about again realizing that they are in love ! (Yeah, it was not a typo, it is actually true!) And Karan in all his interviews tries to emphasize the point that "this time he has not taken a safe subject" reinforced by the critics, some of whom are the stooges of Yashraj and the Johars that this is a movie that has over-the-top performances by all the cast and is one of the best to be offered to the Indian public in a long time.

All of the cast sucks - big time. Except Amitabh and Abhishek. Specially Amitabh. He actually makes the most sensible and pragmatic statement in the entire movie on his deathbed. The subject of the movie is amazingly novel. Never before in the history of cinema has the subject of marital 'infidelity' been addressed. In fact, Karan Johar and Taran Adarsh ought to be lauded for finding a completely new dimension to humanity for exploring extra-marital love for the first time ! Awesome Karan ! Just mind-blowing !

A story which could have been told in an hour and a half, which could have charted a new territory in Indian cinema, which could have been short and sweet and actually bold, upfront and revolutionary to the pseudo-liberal, self-sacrificial Indian mindset was not told even in three and a half damned hours. Instead, unfortunately, the James Braddock of Indian cinema chose to churn out a half-baked, commercial, unimpressive story made with 60 crores which neither had love nor relationships.

I Know Best !

2006-08-09T17:44:00.000+05:30

Thats typically an attitude of an MBA-in-the-making. At least, thats what 'they' say. And they are right ? I would just LOVE to believe that. In fact, one of my friends out here, in course of a pretty animated discussion had once remarked "Always assume that others are stupid". (Disclaimer: I have really quoted him out of context here)

Almost all MBAs I have come across in my life so far have one thing in common. They are cocky, too bloody damn confident, almost invariably bask in self-glorification, mostly superficial and almost all believe that "they know best" !

So, am I any different ?

No. Obviously I know best. I always knew best. Except.

1. That I still don't know what I want to do in life.

2. That I still don't know whether what I believe in is worth or not.

3. That I am absolutely certain that there is no reason for a company to pay me for anything that I will do for them.

4. That I thought, friends are there, they will be there.

5. That I felt that the world is really a just and fair place.

6. That hard work do get rewarded and phony people are someday punished.

7. That after an MBA, you do know best !

Apart from these illusions, I do really know best.

A Proportionate Response

2006-07-29T16:05:00.000+05:30

Israel has bombed Lebanon for the 17th consecutive day. And no wonder the Marxists, Leftists and a few other regional parties are already raising a hue and cry against this punitive action. Their logic is "it is a disproportionate response to the abduction of one Israeli soldier" !

Does this reflect a sense of callousness on the importance of a life of a soldier on India's part and does this by any way explain why India is almost always at the receiving end of any unjust offensive action and that time and again the perpetrators go scott-free and come back to haunt us ? I would think so.

Consider this. Israel's retaliation can be looked upon in two ways. I think, it sends out a very strong message. It says "We dare you. You take one of us, we will take 100 of yours". That is how a country should respond when its soldiers are being abducted. There is no question of being defensive. And the question of proportionality does not arise. For Israel, the life of one of its citizens is important, valuable and their actions have only reinforced that. Unlike us, Indians, callous in our attitude, defensive in our demeanour, afraid to stand up and hit back when we are being hit, willing to go by the 'books' - be politically correct.

For what ?

A country does not have friends, it only has interests. That's the way the game is played. That's the way India should look. So instead of criticizing Israel and clamouring for international sanctions against them, let us unapologetically applaud that nation - a nation so small it cannot find itself on the map, for standing up for their countrymen.

The other point of international debate is that the bombs are being targeted at civilians. Now, what would you do if you knew that those civilians whom all are so concerned about shelter rockets and terrorists ? Is there a difference between people who harbour terrorists and those who actually do it ? Are they any less of a culprit ? If the civilians of a country choose to stealthily adopt such practices, then there should not be any furore when their homes are bombed.

But, as in any conflict there will always be a substantial number of innocent people who would be affected. This is no different. That is the futility of war.

My Kind Of Woman

2006-07-23T17:15:00.000+05:30

Suddenly,like a bolt from blue, today I remembered my grandmother. The incredible lady that she was, I was just thinking whether I would ever find a woman like that. And more importantly, if I were to find such a lady, would I like to have her in my life. Paradoxically, the answer is no.

There are two reasons for it.

My grandmother was someone who would be happy with whatever you gave her, in fact, even if you had nothing to give she would not complain. Even for a moment. I find that absolutely revolting and inexplicable.She found that natural. I still remember her working relentlessly from five in the morning (err...those were different days when I woke up early !) and after a tiring day full of household chores would promise to play Ludo with us - three of her grandchildren. We would wait expectantly for the exciting post-lunch Ludo sessions. And not once, not once were we disappointed. Imagine, around twenty-five odd people to be looked after and not a grimace on her face. Happy and contended.

Now, how do I make a woman of that kind happy ? If I were to get someone of that nature in my life, I would think that it would be a great injustice to her. Frankly, I have nothing to offer to her that can contribute to her happiness. It implies that irrespective of my existence she would be happy ? Its too preposterous to believe that I may be the cause of that happiness. These people are seldom swayed by anything material. They are the columns on which rests the entire structure of a family. Now that I am old enough to understand some of the nuances of what 'expectation' is, what constitutes 'happiness', what we have to do to have a fulfiling life, I have this irresistible urge to ask her what made her happy. I am not quite sure that I would have had a concrete answer.

Some questions bother me. Always. And just the moment I think I figured out the answer, there would be a twist in the offing which would make all previous calculations redundant (sounds hopelessly like one of those Fin problems!) The perennial question that bothers me still is "What kind of woman would I want to live with"

The proverbial answer is "I don't know" (I think my dear friend SRK would be happy to see that finally an MBA has the guts to say this !) I am too easily bored, too easily irritated, too frivolous to be anchored, too attracted by other women(I discovered pretty late that I actually fall in love with every woman that I interact with!). Its impossible for me to love anyone over a long period of time. I am just not cut out that way. I find very little to speak about anything - am too lazy. Sometimes I don't even find a reason. And when someone keeps on talking when I am not in the mood, I am turned off. Just switched off. Instantly. All of this - they are the recipe for a perfectly cacophonous co-existence.

But, the only thing that keeps me ticking is an intellectually challenging conversation. If by a stroke of luck, I happen to meet someone who has that elusive streak, who would not really cave in - on the face of it, give it back to me as and when required and yet respond with passion, then it would be exhilarating. And I doubt, in fact, I am sure, that someone of my grandmother's nature would ever offer me that.

Somehow, I sort of understand what Souvik meant when he said "I am scared....of myself" !

Ode to Sarcasm

2006-07-15T02:20:00.000+05:30

Somehow or other whenever I speak, nowadays, I really have to try hard in talking straight. In a world, where subtliity is rare, causticism and acrebicism is not appreciated, even in humour, this is an issue. There are a very select few who would always talk back to me in the same language that I speak and its incredibly gratifying to have them around. Had it not been for them, I think I would have had no 'market' at all !

Had it not been for Prof. S.M. Fakih's almost irresistible sense of humour with a lace of sarcasm and instant wit, had it not been for Prof. V. Sivaraman's unique way of putting across things by always using a phrase "it is a good idea to..." instead of "you should do this..." in conjunction with his putting the left hand to his chin, had it not been for Prof. Sandeep Gokhale's astounding ability to make a perfectly mundane activity seem like the most interesting session ever conducted on the face of earth, had it not been Cyrus' (yeah, the MTV guy and NOT the Sahukar one) whacky completely non-sensical comments - life would not have been half as interesting as it appears to be.

Of all the people that I have heard in my life, in terms of ability to invoke a smile even in the most hopeless of times, I think these would, any day be at the very top. I am particularly impressed by the way they express their indignation when something presposterous is thrown at them. All of them - ALL seem to revel in such a situation. And if you happen to give it back to them, the marginal enjoyment of that far exceeds any other 'interesting' conversation that you have had with anyone else.

Contrary to the general trend, these people 'look' pretty ordinary but the moment they start to speak, you realize that you are into something special. To me, life is not about making money, neither it is about being a top-notch business executive and most definitely not about 'networking' ; its about these electrifying moments which are addictive and which are memorable in their very own way.

(By the way, is there a message in there, that all the profs mentioned above are related to Finance ? And 'they' told me that the Marketing guys are the most interesting !)

Coming back to my love for un-straight comments ; this has I think grown as time has passed by and assumed significant proportions after my entry into SPJIMR. As with all other things in life, there is a reason to this as well. It over here that the zzombies are awake the moment a pun is round the corner, that SRK's tomfoolery is enjoyable, the comfortably dumbs are uncomfortable keeping quiet, a monk thinks about owning a Ferrari and dreams about a Renault actually !

I remember the day about a month back when I had this debate with my roommate about the uniqueness of each individual in our batch and I had no inkling of an idea that I was spot on. I really do not believe in destiny, but I have no substitute for that word. How else would I explain this chance encounter with people who sort of understand which language you are speaking and more importantly respond in the same, seldom taking offence for the liberties I take with them?

I am sure, beyond a shadow of doubt, that had it not been for the way WE talk, it would have been impossible for us to be friends. It is at these times, I curse the schedules of a B-school (though for me it hardly makes a difference !) which leaves us with very little time to get to know each other better.

The very thought of having a completely sarcastic day is giving me goosebumps and knowing the others, it would not be a bad guess to say that they are feeling the same !

Is there anything I can do ?

2006-07-08T01:52:00.000+05:30

When people think I am inflexible, when in effect, what I am doing is standing up for what I believe in ?

When people think that I am snobbish when actually that is one attribute which I loathe ?

When people think that I am opinionated while I am only being passionate about my perspective ?

When people think that I lack commitment because I pursue my passions first and care two hoots about everything else ?

When people think that I am rude and insensitive while I am only just being downright honest and truthful ?

When people feel that I don't know how to appreciate them when in reality I am not being deceptive enough ?

When people don't understand implicit signals that I do not entertain certain things and yet they continue repeating the same ?

When people get irritated by my argumentative trait, when what I am doing only, is being rational ?

When people don't understand that it pains like hell and yet I cannot express it ?

When people are not even aware how important they are in my life and do not even bother to keep in touch ?

When I give a gift and people think that I 'measure' them, while, for me, its not a gift and just a thing I wanted to share ?

Is there anything I can do to change the way I am perceived ? Possibly yes. Should I do it ?

Most definitely NO. A resounding NO.

Why ? Because what if the friends that I have had so far in life are because of the very reasons why people do not approve of me ? Then, how does it make sense to trade off those specific attributes for creating a 'business network' ?

It does not make sense to me. So, here is raising a toast to unabashed arrogance and unapologetic individualism ! May I be in the 'not-so-good' books of many and be in the 'best' of a select few ! After all, I was never a "Maruti 800 man" ! Somehow Mercedes makes so much sense !

Interpretation of Requests

2006-07-05T15:30:00.000+05:30

Over the past one year because of the collection of movies I have or because of my association with SP's movie club I have come across a variety of people (or is it the other way round) who have come to me requesting for a movie. On the basis of the lines that they choose to request I would often take a shot at guessing their level of intellectual maturity (ok..ok..just maturity is fine...but this 'sounded' better !); and more often than not I was myself surprised to see that I was not way off the mark.

Here are some of those lines and my interpretation of those. Obviously, no disrespect meant. (hell, why am I putting the disclaimer ? Bulls to that...I dont care what you think)

1. Mere ko ek Achcha sa movie de
This is exactly the kind of question which triggers off an insane urge to hold the guy by the scruff and holler loudly on his ears that what I might perceive as a good movie might not be good in his opinion. I have really given it a long hard thought as to what constitutes a "achcha" movie in their opinion and invariably, almost always I have got it miserably wrong ! I mean, statistically also, by law of averages, I should have hit the bull's eye at least once. But no ! I guess I am giving the dabbawallahs of Mumbai a very stiff competition with 99.9% (in)accuracy !

Generally, those who come with this kind of a request have very little idea about what a movie is. Mind you, they are also equally likely to appreciate a real good cinema if they happen to come across one. These guys are generally open to movies of all kinds - they would not shut out any option before watching it. But out of their own volition they would not explore.

2. Do u have a 'light' movie ?
Even without batting an eyelid, I respond in the negative. Frankly, I don't understand what they want. Or maybe I fail to understand whether they are asking for a Govinda or a Chaplin? (Due apologies to Charles for having uttered both at the same breath) Because if I ask them whether Chaplin is the answer to their requirement - the answer is "Nahin yaar, it is too kiddish!" For once I am grateful that Charles Chaplin is not alive; had he been alive he would have died again ! If I offer a Govinda (which I seldom can) then the next question is an inevitable "Govinda ka kaun sa ?" As if Govinda has acted in some of the most coveted and landmark movies of India and he is choosing one amongst them !

The "lightweights" seriously lack the ability to appreciate subtlety or an underlying theme. I guess "metaphor" is a word which they are not very familiar with and which they do not really appreciate. It can also be safely assumed with some degree of accuracy that they have been born and bred in a healthy atmosphere of Bollywood masala believing that movies are the best excuse to having a popcorn and an ice-cream filled evening !

3. Give me an action movie
I absolutely love them, adore them. Apart from the fact, that civility is yet to cross their path(how else can the gross admiration for violence be explained?), these people are completely uncomplicated, very focussed in what they want in life, and would not go for any other kind of movie which does not set their adrenaline pumping ! The "Bashers" are never swayed and even an Eigenstein or a Spielberg is incapable of taking them away from their first love !

4. U have a comedy ?
People who have never known what adversity in life is, and who would not have made it to SP had they tried to crack it this time ! They are typically the kind who would want to shut off all that is 'bad, ugly, dirty' in this world and would live in a beautiful illusionary world where there is only happiness, where the sun is always shining, where you can run around trees when you are in love (and have the extras too!), where the dictionary does not have any word called "sorrow" or any of its synonyms. They are enjoyable company but I really cannot see any way how they can add value to my life. Nopes, I am not for them and neither are they for me !

5. I dont want any serious stuff, I don't want to think, just give me a movie, man !
Its only unfortunate that these people are born in the homo-sapien community ! Thoughts or the ability to think and rationalize is the only difference between humans and other animals. If we forego our ability to think, then we might as well be animals. Unfortunately, I have nothing to offer to them. I hope, rather I believe that the ability to always think makes me more humane than anything else and if I am to stop doing that I should only cease to exist !

Sometimes, I think that I am too antiquated, born at the wrong time or at the wrong place. With each passing day, the belief only turns to conviction.

Sense Out Of Nonsense

2006-06-29T01:41:00.000+05:30

Today is a perfect day.

Actually a kind of day which has all the ingredients of a brilliant pot-boiler. A bit of fun and frolic, a little of utter laziness and finally a touch of tragedy. Everything apart
from a dose of romance - which would have made the picture complete or sullied ! (Depending on which side you are on)

The day started at practically the stroke of twelve. I woke up with a dream, a bad one, (seldom do i have good, sweet, sexy dreams); then went for a wonderful lunch - something which i did not have for a month and a half now; came back and tried my hand at Spanish - a language I am learning (i dont know why, just like many other things) and by evening it seemed to be a day where nothing, nothing can go wrong.

But, as they say, life has other plans. (Or should it be 'death' has other plans ?)

The turning point, the pivotal point in this movie that I am acting in, came at this specific juncture when I was just getting geared up for a dinner party. One nice phone call giving me the news that my friend was no more. For a moment, I did not even realize what it meant. There are two moments which I will never forget in my lifetime even if I am afflicted with Parkinson's or Alzheimer's and unfortunately they are both associated with death. This is the second one.

I pride myself on being able to 'take' in anything with minimum amount of fuss and even less amount of surprise - but I have to admit, today was not my day. To quote one of my friend "someone,somewhere had rolled a dice". And what a shot ! I guess its moments like these which prompt you to ask those eternal, profound "wh" questions.

As I was straddling with a blurred confusion, I had managed to call an amazingly wide spectrum of people to check the veracity of the news, thinking that there might be a mistake, there might still be hope. Ironically, this is possibly the only time in life when we want to be proved wrong and would be happy to be. But Mr. Murphy plays the good old sportsman here as well - he does not oblige.

By this time, around an hour and half has passed, and I am well into the dinner party and am feeling stranger by the minute. I am completely out of the party and trying to piece together all of what happened in the past two hours. In hindsight, as I write this, I understand that the 'dice' was played once before as well - before the start of the game - when this dinner was fixed ! And now I am back to my room. The day is over.

I appreciate dark humour very much, but am still not getting the sense out of this whole episode. Is it because of the 60 ml of vodka which I had after ages ?

I would love to believe so. But am not so sure !

A Bunch Of Memories

2006-06-27T19:00:00.000+05:30

I don't want you to say sorry because I know you are

I don't want you to think of me because you anyway wouldn't

I don't want you to thank me because whatever I did, I did for my selfish reasons

I don't want you to love me because I know that you are not capable enough

I don't want you to talk to me since we would not know where to start

I don't want you to forgive me because I do not ask for it - whatever I did, I did it to hurt you

I don't want you to think that I will be there, because I wouldn't

I don't want you to believe that I was good, I wasn't - what you saw was just a facade

I don't want you to think that I am honest - honestly, I am a hypocrite

I don't want you to believe half the things I said, they were just said and nothing more

I don't want you to share your dreams with me - I cannot build them anyway

All I have is one slice of the sky, a chunk of the rasping wind, a whiff of icy water, a gush of fire and a bunch of memories !! And thats enough...

How would it be ?

2006-06-15T16:36:00.000+05:30

How would it be to write a book which no one would want to read?

How would it be to make a movie which only one would appreciate or understand?

How would it be to love somebody without her loving you back?

How would it be to sing a tuneless song which speaks by itself and no one responds?

How would it be if all of the above questions are answered in the affirmative ?!!

How would it be to have a dagger plunged at your heart and twisted slowly?

How would it be to rape whom you love the most and yet be loved?

How would it be to have the winds lash at your face - slapping you for all you have done?

How would it be to stand and wait and wait and wait till u get tired?

How would it be to fight for someone only to be betrayed at the end?

How would it be to lose everything you have yet feel secure?

As the song goes "The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind...."

MBA or Post Operative Diagnosis Course ?

2006-06-11T03:39:00.000+05:30

Its funny how we are in awe of something TILL the point we experience it.

I was never good in acads - its just that some things clicked at the right moments. Precisely, courtesy one of these moments I landed up @ SPJIMR
(Now, if u ask me what is that, then i can conclusively prove two things - one, you are not an MBA aspirant and two, there is still hope for you !)

I had this great idea about this MBA thing - ahhh, here is one course which is going to give me a 'holistic' education 'integrating' the different aspects of the business world intertwining the 'strategic' options of each 'vertical' as per their 'competitive advantages'. (Phew !! Yippeee !! I HAVE finally become an MBA - THIS is what I paid the 3.5 lacs for)

Now, there is no doubt about the utility of the course structure in a B-school. Thats all fine. But if you are to ask me "What have you learnt in the one year?" - Boy, I would be stumped and way off the crease !

What did I LEARN ??

Now, wait, where did this come from ? What learning ? I would have done a PhD if I wanted to LEARN ! Lets talk about salaries - thats what we are here for.

The fact is you don't learn in a B-school. It is a course which informs you about all the business cases which have been mostly successful, to let you be aware of the possible 'moments of truth' that they went through, so that in the unlikely event of you being exactly in the same position in a company where you will handle an important 'portfolio' you will be able to take the same decision without a moment's consideration. ( How about realism - thats what yyou are thinking, right ?)

Obviously, they don't teach you about failures (some do, but then there always are exceptions) Why ? Ahh, ridiculous it may sound but actually overheard that its all about being successful in life !! As if keeping my eyes shut will make the sun go away !

Coming back to the point - on the basis of what we learn we are incapable of taking and backing a decision, we cannot predict with any degree of certainty about anything, we are NOT encouraged to think differently (did I hear Marketing ?), we dress up exactly in the same way for the 'customers' to 'take' us on the D-Day and most importantly speak and talk exactly in the same language !

So why shouldn't I call this course - this 2 year crappy thing a Post Operative Diagnosis Course ? Its like I am trying to rectify a problem 105 years (see, thats what they taught me in Marketing - to use unusual numbers - apparently it lends credibility! ) after it HAS already being solved.

So, what's the point ?

The point is that all said & done MBA is a good crash course for which you pay a helluva lot to earn a helluva lot - there are no LEARNINGS only EARNINGS !

p.s: Someday, I would want to find out why a company gives us the salary which we seem to deserve !! That would be my corporate 'project'.

What is interesting about you ?

2006-06-10T20:56:00.000+05:30

This is a question which has bothered me time and again. Really, when some absolutely moronic professor, or a MBA smart-ass in HR from some high-sounding big-shot organization asks me this stupid question - i sometimes feel i should reply back saying "I am the most boring person I have ever seen, there's nothing interesting about me!"

I try to live under no illusions, and for the last 3 years to my utter dismay I can claim with some degree of confidence that I know myself pretty well-enough and from that I have not been able to pin-point what is interesting about me. In fact, the truth is that there is nothing ! But there are many things that interests me...like

I get interested when someone stands up for something against great opposition and takes the fight to the other side

I get a kick when I see that there still are people who believe in supporting what's right even though it may be commercially unviable

It interests me immensely when an European nation observes an anti-pollution day and not one single citizen takes out a car

I love it when really insignificant people stick it up to the powers that be

It gives me goosebumps to think that a movie can spark of a revolution

Barcelona and its people - isn't it marvellous to know that there still exists such places in the world who would not 'sell' what they love ?

My heart skips a beat everytime I see a Ganguly cover-drive or a Lara bashing or a rearguard Steven

I feel weak in the knees when someone whom I had not attached much importance to considers my opinion to be important and makes me feel special

I guess thats about it. Now, would you call this an interesting person ? I would not - on the contrary I would surely think that this is exactly a kind of person who would transform a perfectly well-lit, bright, brilliant day to a disaster, one who would philosphize, patronize at each and every conceivable opportunity - a perfect hypocrite knowing fully well that he does not have the guts to carry out what he believes in !

The opinion is for you to form and may it be closer to the truth !

Mediocrity Thrives...

2006-05-29T17:07:00.000+05:30

Long time back - about half a decade back to be precise, I had an argument with a dear friend of mine about movies. The premise of the contention was that whether acceptance of Govinda-movies is indicative of the psychological maturity and quality of consciousness of a society. My opinion at that time was to let people make the choice as to what they want to watch. And that it is completely justified for actors like Govinda to make such films.

Today, I hold an opinion which is completely contradictory to that. And I have my friend to thank for that.

The point is our sense of judgement is so very relative and is so grossly dependent on the choices we explore that more often than not we resort to hailing what is mediocre as 'good' and what is 'good' as 'excellent'.

This phenomena unfortunately is imbibed, ingrained into every aspect of our life. Each one of us - we thrive on mediocrity, we revel in it; little realizing that our best is nowhere near the parameters set out by the rest of the world - specially when it comes to cinema.

Of course, many think that we have arrived, that our movies have a unique proposition, that we are being 'discovered' by the world (reminds me of Columbus!) while some question the basis of classifying cinema itself ! (God help Eigenstein and Chaplin - wherever they are)

All of these mindlessly ridiculous logic stems from the belief that cinema is entertainment(which it is) and entertainment is frivolous. Many a time I have heard
"I don't want to think while I am watching a movie" or
"Kya movie dikha rahe ho yaar !" (when told about movies like One Flew..../Operation Daybreak/Scarface/Scarecrow...) or
"Why should cinema be always serious?"

While I am prepared to concede or rather unequivocally accept that most definitely the answer to the last question is a firm "No", the first two express a total ignorance about cinema and a disturbing thought that educated, fertile, apparently open minds wish to remain oblivious to reality or shall we say 'harsh reality'. Indeed 'feel good' has got to us !

So, whats the way out ? How do you make people watch good stuff ?

Is it possible at all ?

The answer is a 'Very Difficult Yes'. It requires a lot of patience and continuous exposure to quality stuff - which again is very difficult to define;(apparently everybody has his/her own definition of 'quality').

If we consider the top hundred movies of all times and blindly go about watching them, then chances are that in 80% of the cases, we would be exposed to really good quality movies - rich in terms of content as well as quality craftsmanship.

But the jump from the typical masala that Mumbai (Bollywood aka Follywood or vice-versa) churns out day-in and day-out to these symbolic yet refreshingly novel movies made by Europeans and Americans is so humongous that the initial experiences create a sense of revolt deep within and this is the greatest deterrent to pursuing the venture.

That remains for the first five to seven movies of such kind. Then its pure inertia and perfect bliss. But for this to happen the basic criteria is the knowledge or realization that what we are watching now leaves a lot to be desired in terms of quality and an equal desire to change it - which unfortunately is lacking in most.

So, finally, since everything depends on personal perception and choice, all of the words above are useless !

2006-05-22T23:46:00.000+05:30

Its Classified !

How many times have we heard this ? How many times have we been exposed to materials that is screened by others only to be told finally that 'this' is inflammatory, that 'that' is a sensitive issue, how many times we have we been the cynosure of abject humiliation ?

Yet, we do nothing.

Because the moment one of 'us' suddenly find a voice to speak, when out of the blue the thought strikes us to strike back - to question the very essence of authoritarianism, we are included as part of 'that' elite. By the allure of responsibility to safeguard the interests of society, by letting open the valve for a split second to let go off the steam !

And we never will do anything.

Because we are incapable of standing up.
Because its not a comfort zone.
Because it does not concern 'me'.
Because it is someone else's problem.
Because we do not even understand that we are humiliated.
Because we love to ridicule or question when someone does so simply because it hits us on the face that we lack character, that we lack strength, that we lack the most basic form of humanity - that of consciousness.

Rang De Basanti tries (and unlike as many think not for the first time) to address specifically this concern. Ankush did that before. So did Arjun. So did Main Azad Hoon. And Hum Paanch. (Did I hear anyone say that RDB is the first film not to have 'one' central hero ?) All of them succeeded - but only as a movie; not as an instrument of social consciousness. It never will be.

Because we end up doing exactly the same things that we loathe when we are on the other side. Its innanely, uncannily, perplexingly funny how we forget what we were, what we are and what we will be. Such is the power of power.

In a conversation I overheard one of my exasperated friends ask this critical question to another "Who gives you the right to decide what is interesting to me?" - to an explanation put forward by the latter about "how divulging the information would lead to mayhem and end the suspense!".

For a second I should have asked them to swap places !