Viruddh Gandhi

This one wouldn't have come, but for the incessant abuses Manmeet hurled at me whenever I met him; in person or online. This one's for the aviator.

I'm not convinced Gandhi was Mahatma. It is probably because I've not read enough about the man to deem him Mahatma. He was a good man, powerful rather. There had to be something about a man who could single-handedly influence the second-most populous nation in the world. The aura, of men of that stature, people like Gandhi, Hitler, Luther King; is irresistible. These men inspire me, although none were Mahatmas.
Why this article? Well, I saw Gandhi, my father. Whatever the Times of India or other newspapers thought, I believe the movie was brilliant. From the depiction of a stubborn Gandhi, always knowing the right, a soft father, longing for the love of his son; to the wonderful portrayal of Hari Gandhi, the wasted son of a celebrated father: the emotional relationship is beautifully played.
I had expectations from this movie the first time I heard about it at the IIFA awards. Fresh from watching the Aviator, I almost hoped for a Scorsese-style biography. What I got was different from Scorsese; but was equally brilliant. It is small things I like about direction; the shower scene in South Africa, staying away from the infamous train incident in SA, not indulging into much outside Gandhi's family, images of Akshay Khanna as a Satyagrahi in the later parts of the movie.
It is rather rare that I feel this kind of fervor after watching a movie. The last time I felt it was after The Departed. Rang De Basanti before that. I say Anil Kapoor chose an apt movie to start his production career. Nice.

The dream

Now just the other day, I was discussing dreams with my friends, while cursing myself for not remembering them. They gave me vivid descriptions of their dreamy escapades. So, today, to my surprise, when I woke up, I realised what I was dreaming. Now c'mon, that was an experience for me. So, here it is.

#include fantasyland.h
Now, a senior of mine had shifted to Australia while we were still in school. So now, probably a couple of years later, I meet a girl outside who I faintly recognize as that senior's sister. She's getting some land dug in an open ground in front of school. When I go to enquire out of curiosity, I learn that she's a telecommunications engineering student and she was doing a project on telecomm in India. So she was trying to get to the MTNL lines.
/*Pause. Some days later. */
I meet the same girl again, getting the same digging done, but now right in front of my building. I say hi to her once again, and get talking. Turns out we share a nice rapport. I give her my contact number, and we go around Bombay for a couple of days. We start liking each other, and the day before she's leaving for Australia, she comes to my place. We are in the elevator, and I tell her I like her. She smiles. I hug her. She does not refuse, but she does not respond.
/*Pause. Next day.*/
Next day, she does not call before leaving. I cannot contact her because she does not have a cell.
Some days later, she calls from Australia. I complain about not meeting her when she left, and she says she felt awkward right after the hug. But that, to make up, she was sending me a gift.
Suddenly, I see myself holding an album. Pictures of mine and hers', with apt captions and messages.
/*I get a phone call. My dream ends.*/
end dream

Now, now, before someone asks; I can't remember who the girl was, neither who the senior was. The telecomm engineer in me appeared in the dream. And then, the photo album must have been because I was searching for pictures to put up on Facebook yesterday. Dream analysis ends here. It was a nice little dream. But probably even a little influenced by the James Bond flicks I've been watching rather religiously for the past few days.

The insect

Imagine this.
You take an oath never to kill an insect.
Now, an insect keeps climbing on your face even though you push it away a couple of times. What would you do?

Of people

OK. So there are people who work in my house.

Instance 1: Pandeyji
Pandeyji has probably seen me for more time than I can remember. So whenever he enters the house, he greets me with the words Boss. Now, it's fine to call me Boss, but not when it sounds like Bose. Not as in the Bos(z)e audio systems, but the Subhash Chandra Bose types.
Imagine, everytime I see him, all I hear is "Bose", and it drives me crazy. So much for the patriot in me!

Instance 2: Manoj
Manoj is 18 years old. He's indispensable to me. So now, he was trying to decipher what the Laughing Buddha in my show case meant.
The following are his words:
"Ye to woh hi hain naa ji, woh bhagwan jinhone macchli pakad li thi. Yeh buddhu bhagwan hain na?"
God, I could not stop laughing when he made Buddha into Buddhu. Lord.

Poetic Moods #6 Distress II

My grandfather suffered from a brain stroke on the 6th of October, 2002. It took away his speech, and left him paralyzed on the right side of his body. This is for him.

His fingers clenched around my wrist,
he held me tight,
a quiet look of desperation,
I trembled at that sight.

His eyes so still,
pleading to me in exasperation,
the worried smile,
I cursed my incomprehension.

I relived that old night,
had it struck again?
without those words he had long lost,
I could almost feel the pain.

The sudden relax,
his grip lost my hand,
he responded to my excited worry,
on my feet I could again stand!

Poetic Moods #5 Her

A little shade of the unorthodox,
she looks into those eyes,
And then she comes to understand,
there's someone who never lies.

She's pretty, she's smart, she's sensible,
she's all that you would wish,
yet she's not available,
she's happy as she is.

There is so much more meaning,
it's difficult to explain,
but for a friend like you,
it's all simple and plain.

When you feel uncomfortable,
I know exactly how it is,
But damn, I do not know,
Is there anything else to this?

Russell that!

So then; I wasn't supposed to be there! I did not have the passes. All those people who are thinking of me as the perfect bitch who went without them knowing, let me tell you the whole thing.
It was the last show Russell was doing in Bombay on this tour. And so, like an expectant fool, I went to Andrews thinking that an idiot would come there offering me passes for the show. I reached there to the sight of one of my sisters friend selling tickets to another guy. I cursed the traffic. I waited with a friend for another hour with no luck. No one was generous enough to give me that so desired pass. We waited, and the show started. Then, we went to the entry gate and gave the organizer the most agonized look that we could. Sympathetically I think, he told us that he had only one ticket with him to sell. Tempted, we bought the ticket and waited for someone as helpful to give us the second ticket. When that person didn't come, my friend suggested we toss a coin and the winner goes in; no point wasting more time outside. I agreed and my luck! I got the ticket. Center seat, 1st row!
Sorry Raj!

Roger that!

You have these times when you are in front of legends. People who have written a part of history. And then you don't realize that thirty years down the line, when history is being read, you would be the lucky one to have come across it.
So today, I watched Roger Waters perform live 10 meters away from me. For the idiots, Waters is the major lyricist and composer of Pink Floyd, along with giving vocals and guitars in most songs.
The gig started with the usual Floyd antics; sparks running across the stage, exaggerated lighting, and beautiful music. Before we could realise, the classics started coming in. When songs go beyond the music, it is then that you really love them!
Then there were people, lots of them; Indians, Australians, Britishers, French, Hippies; cigarettes dangling from the mouths, some flaunting Bacardi bottles in their pockets, shouting out to random people about even random things; all part of a typical rock concert.
I had a wonderful time. With Guns n Roses last year and Roger Waters this year, I'm silently praying for Metallica next year!

Poetic Moods #4 The Arsenal

A rush hour!
A big game!
A bunch of stars!
Adorned with fame!

Some in their car!
Some by the train!
They come from far!
To chant the name!

We say welcome to the Emirates!
And we go a goal down!
We see you in that ecstatic state,
Oblivious to the oncoming frown!

So many times before!
Hadn't you already seen?
What we had in store!
Through what even the reds have just been!

One from Robin!
And the second from Henry!
Oh, what a win!
Another comeback to the Arsenal gallantry!

The thunderous roar!
The walk back!
The voices into the air soar!
Now it is time to relax!

Poetic Moods #3 Distress

This is for Manmeet. I wrote this in the flight thinking of you.

I shook in mid air,
with just a head rest to stare,
for the other I didn't care;
and I waited!

There were only clouds outside,
the one beside me cried,
I was on an adventurous ride;
so I waited!

A voice over the speaker came,
all the consolation was now lame,
I had never experienced the same,
but I waited!

Something from the top fell,
and I felt my head swell,
all the sweat that I could smell;
I waited!

A little orange and a lot of pink,
and still the sun would not sink,
I had no heart to think;
hence I waited!

With a thud it was all over,
a smooth path for us to hover,
never was I to be so sober;
and the wait ended!

Then and Now: Part 1

Then:
Yh, those were the days. I was captain of the Junior team in the 6th standard at my boarding school. We were bowling for the trophy, as in I was bowling the last over for the trophy. The opposite team needed 5 runs, with 4 wickets remaining.
Ball1: Wide
Ball2: Wide
Ball3: Caught back by the bowler.
Ball4: Wicket. Caught in the slips
Ball5: Wide. Run out while trying to steal a single.
Ball6: Single.
Ball7: Wide.The match was over. Apparently!
It was 1998. Then, a four off a wide delivery was declared as four runs and not five as it is now. The scorer had made a mistake and given it as five. The match stood tied with three balls remaining. Those three balls were to be held the next day.
The next day we had a science test (and we all were serious about studying, at least I was). The morning, I missed my prep time (study time) and practised for those three balls.
After lunch, we went for the match.
Ball7: Missed outside the off stump. Collected by keeper.
Ball8: Missed outside the off stump. Collected by keeper.
Ball9: Missed outside the off stump. Collected by keeper. Run out.
Yh, so we won by the rule of wickets. I was picked up like I had just won my team the world cup. The match took away my interest in cricket. I did not want to hear the name of the game. I never played serious cricket after that.
That was then.

Exciting day!

This is someone's exciting day!
"
I wake up at 9 for an 8.30 lecture. (Yes, that's *exciting*)
Then I miss the lecture and sit in the canteen (How very **).
I sit in the canteen.
I sit in the canteen.
Then, I get a brainwave to go to Brio /*Corrected on request*/. (**)
Then, we sit at Brio. We talk, get excited about the place we've come to.
Then, whether we have tuition; according to home, we always do.
We go to U Turn during that time. (Very **)
After that, we go to 11 echoes for dinner and talk. (** **)
Then, I come home.
"
EPILOGUE
Once upon a time in Bombay, there was a person who told me that my life was not exciting enough, because all I ever talked when asked how my day was was the exact course of events. So, I asked how that person's day was more exciting than mine; and the above is the response!

Poetic Moods #2: Red

On the surface, I see a creature;
he toils in the night, and tries to rest;
just then something strikes,
and the creature meets its death.

When the surface is revealed,
and the curtain is raised;
a hand appears,
Unaffected, unfazed.

The hand is blooded,
and the creature lies there;
the black of his body,
smeared red in despair.

It could have caused a disease,
or an epidemic, the hand said;
there will always be another one,
for this one dead!

A day in my life

Yesterday was the most proper day in my recent life.

1) I woke up in the morning to go to Borivali to play a football match. As I reached Andheri station, I realised that I haven't got my ID along; and we needed it. So I got down at Jogeshwari and went back home to collect my ID. I rushed back to Borivali. There, they didn't even ask for the IDs. But the proper day went on, and I managed to lose my ID. I DIDNT EVEN PLAY THE MATCH, I WAS ON THE BENCH FOR 50 MINUTES AND ALL I DID AT BORIVALI WAS LOST THE ID WHICH I HAD FORGOTTEN AND THEN GONE BACK TO COLLECT!

2) So then, we came home. In the evening I had another match at VJTI. So I went to Andheri station, and all my idiot friends bought harbour line tickets, because they thought Kings Circle was closer to VJTI. So it was, but then harbour line trains come within half an hour of each other, and we had just missed one of them. Yh, so we got late. We reached there; warmed up; and I realised I wasn't even in the squad there. Frustrating! I went to VJTI to cheer the team.

3) I was supposed to be running for the marathon today. After winning at Borivali, we were told that the next match would be today. Thinking that I would anyways miss the marathon, I didn't collect the shirt number. At VJTI, I came to know that there was no match today; and still I would miss the marathon. Aargh!

4) There was a Siddhesh who played against us at Borivali; and there was a Mehra who played against us at VJTI. So, both Siddhesh and Mehra played, but Siddhesh Mehra didn't play.

Off again!

Its just that time of the year when I start to travel; and last year was good travel. Kerala, Lonavala, Europe, Delhi (i know)..
And this year starts with Nainital. But as always; hopeful destinations for this year:
Ummm.. Delhi (perpetually there.. not hopeful, im sure ill be there atleast twice in the year)
America - I wanna go meet Didi.. please
England - Arre thats to on the way tto the US only na.. so Ill stop there for a couple of days
Goa - I just want to go there, feeling aa rahi hai..

Plagiarism

I just loved this one on the front page of the Times today:

There are two Indias in this country.
One India is straining at the leash, eager to spring forth and live up to all the adjectives that the world has been showering recently upon us.
The other India is the leash.
One India says, give me a chance and I'll prove myseld. The other India says, prove yourself first and maybe then you'll have a chance.
One India lives in the optimism of our hearts. The other India lurks in the skepticism of our minds.
One India wants. The other India hopes.
One India leads. The other India follows.
But conversions are on the rise. With each passing day more and more people from the other India have been coming over to this side.
And quietly, while the world is not looking, a pulsating, dynamic, new India is emerging.
An India whose faith in success is far greater than its fear of failure.
An India that no longer boycotts foreign-made goods but buys out the companies that make them instead.
History, they say, is a bad motorist. It rarely ever signals its intentions when it is taking a turn.
This is the rarely-ever moment. History is turning a page.
For more than half a century, our nation has sprung, stumbled, run, fallen, rolled over, got up, dusted herself and cantered, sometimes lurched on. But today, as we begin our 60th year as a free nation, the ride has brought us to the edge of time's great precipice.
And one India - a tiny little voice at the back of the head - is looking down at the bottom of the ravine and hesitating.
The other India is looking up at the sky and saying, it's time to fly.
INDIA POISED - our time is now

There is a reason why I picked this up from the Times and posted on my blog.
Newspapers are read one day and thrown away the next; but I want this part of today's paper to remain with me.

Turn ons

I was just thinking what kind of things can impress people:
In the 4th standard, girls thought I was too cute.
In the 6th standard, a girl loved the speed with which I typed (So much for being a computer addict)
In the 7th standard, a girl liked me because I was good at Maths
In the 8th standard, a girl liked me because I irritated the hell outta her.
In the 10th standard, a girl liked me because I kicked her out of something I was handling.
In the 11th standard, a girl liked me because I had nothing against anyone.
Enough! I'll come to the later years a few years later.

World Press Photo

Now I'm not much into all this, but I got to know from a friend that there was a photography exhibition in Nariman Point. A curious interest in photography and nothing else to do drove me to the Express Towers, where the World Press Photo Exhibition was put up.
The photos were, as expected, beautiful. Now the exhibition had been put up in two separate rooms; and to no surprise, one of them was filled with only tragic pictures: of a girl being stabbed in the face, of earthquake and hurricane victims, of gang violence, and of famished children. So much for the state of the world today!

Cricket

Its amazing how you, can speak right .. Aargh...
Its amazing how one win can make you forget all the losses of the near past.
With Team India looking more like Tame India in the one day series, the test series has taken a great turn.. what with India scoring their first in SA.
There were moments in the match which you just cannot forget for a long time..
Day 1 - Glimpses of Sachin; Dada is back, and back with a bang!
Day 2 - Shreesanth and Zaheer, God!
Day 3 - The return of the VVS; Shreesanth does a number!
Day 4 - Old Lord Kumble strikes the blows! Blood.. aargh.. Beer bath! You thought they would spare you, Dhoni?
Day 5 - Victory is a day old!

Thought monitoring

For people who know me, I've been sensible! I'm positive they will agree. From staying arrogant to being straight forward, I know myself as I'd like to be.

But then, there are these moments; these times when I think I'm just too right. I should be wrong at times. It gives people more of a chance to get close to you. If you portray yourself to be unaffected by anything, you put yourself inside a shell; and don't give any reason for others to try and break that shell. And then the worst part comes: for all your life, they who you thought knew you, understood you; go away, stop understanding you.

These are just moments. As much as I think about it, I know I will never do anything that I feel wrong. I'm just what I am. And I'd stay this way!