SQUARE WITH ROUND EDGES

My Vagabond Wishlist

2012-01-19T14:50:00.001+05:30

I am finally getting a holiday, after ages.

2 friends, and a trip to Rajasthan. The golden sand, the majestic forts, the royal glow reflecting from the chandeliers, the mirage of colours around us, jingling of bells on cows, steaming chai in kulhads, cool winds and a small fire to warm us - there is so much we are looking forward to.

I want to meet new people, locals and tourists, see the cities from both their eyes. I want to dance with the folk dancers, and I want to walk the streets just observing and not saying a word.

However small the trip, the idea of going to a new place just gets the blood pumping in our systems. What will we discover there? What new experiences will we gain? Will we return wiser... or sillier?

As I tick off one from the bucketload in my Travel Wishlist, here is to hoping this year brings some more ticks and trips.

But I still seek my mountain peak
Momentary posts may refuel me
But my eyes are set on a destination I cant yet see
Till then I try to be happy with breeze that whistles by.

WOH DIN

2012-01-06T18:37:00.000+05:30

Halak mein atke hain kuch beete hue pal,

Saans le chale phir ussi kal.

Jahaan sardi ki dhoop si thi khushiyon ki garmaahat,

Jahaan koi na ho, phir bhi hamesha thi aahat.

Bas baithe baithe khud par hans lete zara,

Chaahe aasman gir jaaye, kisse thi parvaah?

Par phir aaya ek din, jab aahat na koi,

Neend mein achaanak uth padoon,

Koi hai? Lagta hai koi aawaz suni!

Har taraf dhoondha, kahin yeh meri kalpana toh nahi?

Sapnon ko pukaarte,

Khudko dhakela neend ki galli.

Subah hui aur aankhein dhoondein wohi dhoop,

Par thand ne thithur di meri rooh.

Mann se ki dua ki yeh sirf ho ek maaya,

Palak jhukaayi aur kuch mehsoos hua.

Lagta hai sirhaane aakhir koi aaya?

Kaun aaya? Kaun aaya?

Bas Khaalipan ka saaya.

6 Jan 2011.

SECRET SANTA

2011-12-23T19:54:00.001+05:30

This entire week, we had Secret Santa in office. The office was filled with the Christmas spirit, as people continued to give and receive presents. Knick-knacks, food, accessories, jewellery, utilities, books, what nots. It was not the price tag that mattered, it was the spirit of giving, the feeling. It was the note that came with the gift that was often more treasured.

As you watch this happen, you cannot help but feel the happiness and joy. That is why I love Christmas. I love walking around all day in office, on the streets, even at home, with a Santa hat - even if I am the only one. I love smiling randomly and spreading the smile around. It's nice.

Another great thing that Radio Mirchi did this year was the Santa Cause initiative. The team worked really hard to spread some joy to those who really need it. People were asked to donate new toys, which are then going to be given to the suffering children at the Tata Memorial Cancer Hospital. Many gave generously, and the RJs tell me how they are simply waiting to see the faces of those kids light up. See what was collected: https://twitter.com/#!/MeeMeera/status/150160695160348673/photo/1
https://twitter.com/#!/MeeMeera/status/150163098022576128/photo/1

Have you have felt this joy of giving? I remember the time when I did Project Care with underprivileged kids, or when I would give food to some kids on the street, or when I would simply sit and chat with some kid selling stuff on the road. Try it this Christmas. And if you don't feel the spirit, this will surely bring it back and take right to your heart!

Merry Christmas in advance to everyone!

ON STAGE - 'WORLD WITHOUT WOMEN'

2011-12-23T19:45:00.000+05:30

So, I am a small part of a play called WWW- World Without Women, by Loudmouth Productions. The play is about female infanticide and foeticide, and takes different looks at what would become of this world if this practice continues.

It is a short play, and we had performed for the first time as part of the Be Artsy street theatre festival at NCPA. As the creators of the play describe it and I quote:
"The play staged in a street play form, explores the possibility of a day not far in the future of a world without women. Through the metaphor of a womb, the issue of the death of a girl child is explored.
A woman-less world enfolds where abuses have died away, songs lose meaning, iconic movie scenes lose their sting, men who remember women are never the same again, while sonography operators lose their jobs. The endangered women become mere objects of curiosity, 'protected' in zoos before their eventual extinction. In the end, the womb metaphor recurs, to give the message of hope, if the world wakes up today."

After NCPA, the play became a part of one of the most prestigious youth theatre festivals in the country - Thespo, as we performed at the curtain raiser at Crossword Bookstore, Kemps Corner. And the rush was unbelievable.

Let me begin by saying this - I am someone who loves the spotlight, the stage and the limelight. I love an audience. And performing at the bookstore gave us all such an amazing high. The reactions were perfect and we were glad that the play was liked and understood.

Here are some pics: WWW at Thespo 13 curtain raiser

After that was THE performance, at Thespo 13, Prithvi Theatre. On the 14th of December, ours was a platform performance.

As we reached the venue, we saw sitting right there, in the front row - Shashi Kapoor with Dolly Thakore. The surprising part wasn't finding him there, but the coincidence. You see, we had the 'Mere paas gaadi hai...' dialogue from Deewar in the play (watch the video below to know more). If Crossword was a high, this was cloud 9 altogether. We felt so elated after the performance, and it reached new heights when the play was commended and liked by Dolly Thakore.
Watch some part of the performance: THE PLAY VIDEO

As we headed to Juhu beach to celebrate with some street food, we realised this cast may not perform together again. But we were glad that we did this, that we removed time from this from work/college/etc, that we took a social cause, and that we made new friends.

Here is hoping that many more such things happen as the next year arrives!

And for those who liked the play, you can join the group on Facebook - Loudmouth Productions

Dance away...

2011-12-21T15:49:00.002+05:30

Merry Christmas to my three best friends! Mwah! Happiness arrives...

What they should teach in school

2011-11-28T19:51:00.000+05:30

I commute to work by local train everyday. As a result, I usually have loads of train tales, grievances and more to tell or rant. This post is also a result of some such incidents.

As I have mentioned before, I hate it when people litter. Especially the educated ones, who throw garbage without a second thought. A few days ago I was travelling back home. Sitting opposite me was a family, with a small kid, about 3 or 4 years old. One of the ladies opened a toffee and immediately, before I had the chance to utter a word, threw it out the window. My blood started boiling right then. I wanted to watch what they would do next before bursting out. They gave a pack of Polo to the little girl who started unwrapping it. And, to no one's surprise, following the lady's footsteps, reached to throw the wrapper out of the window.

That is when I stopped her. Took the wrapper and put it in my bag. And told the family, is littering what you want to teach the little kid? That incident made me think.

We build character and learn very important life lessons when we are little. From our teachers, our parents and people around us. It builds our point of view, our opinions and more. And if at that age, children are taught that it is ok to litter, it is ok to spit on roads, it is ok to be rude, then the next generation too will grow up with the same values as today.

I strongly believe that one subject that should be included in the school syllabus is CIVIC SENSE. You will say, oh but you needn't teach that officially. I disagree. I feel that kids should be taught from the very beginning how important civic sense is and what one should and should not do. I do believe, if this is ingrained well, they will move on to teach the elders around them.

Think. One kid has the power to make the parents, the relatives, all stop and think about what they are doing. One kid will change the mentality of an entire family.

Make civic sense a subject, teach kids what will happen if you litter. Teach kids about how diseases spread due to spitting, teach them that you should be polite in public and respect others' opinions, teach them about dry and wet waste. Have clean up-drives, have kids walk up to strangers and tell them that 'you are doing the wrong thing', give them the courage to stand up and speak out and make their world better.

Otherwise the next generation too will grow up to be educated, ignorant people who behave like apes and pretend to be the most civil of the lot. Isn't it time we show them the mirror right from the beginning so that they can be civil and change the world around them too?

The adrenaline of travelling

2011-10-31T16:59:00.000+05:30

Travel... sigh!

Travel is a dream that one in two people have, at the least. Everyone wants to travel, see the world, in their own way. Some prefer a backpack, whilst some prefer the luxury of a cruise. Me, I just love the thrill of a new place, new people, new culture, and something different.

Recently for Diwali, I went to Pune - just for a day. I haven't visited that city in years, and so for me, it was a new experience all over again. In the evening, I would just take a walk by myself, roam the pretty streets of Koregaon Park, look around, talk to a few people, and it would be an adrenaline rush. I loved the thrill of being somewhere new, of discovering something.

I was pressed for time. But had I had the time, the one thing I wanted to do was just walk around, and ask the people to suggest the next place in Pune I should go to, get there and then figure out where to go next. Basically, build a day of travelling through a chain of suggestions from people there. Not just see the place, but feel it.

I want to travel the world, I want to talk to people, maybe live with them and see how their life is. How similar, how different. I want to step into a different country, and feel the land, the place, the vibes. Dress like them, smile at them, talk to them, maybe act a little like a tourist once a in a while, and maybe couch surf sometimes.

A new place is a new rush. So, anyone taking me somewhere new?

For the 'litter' in me

2011-10-31T16:15:00.000+05:30

I miss my Literature classes. I miss the obnoxious sounding 'arty' discussions, the dissecting books and movies, the critiques, the words and their magic, the losing oneself in imaginary worlds, sitting in the library for hours, watching movies no one would ever watch except in lectures or at film festivals, and so much more.

I have lost that since I started working. My books are my solace.

Here is something that, if I get the chance to attend, will take me back to that world for a while - The Mumbai Litfest.

Anyone interested in giving me company?

Here is the website: http://litlive.in/

And the schedule: http://litlive.in/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/Tata-Lit-Live-Schedule-29-Oct-2011-A4.pdf

Something fun, something old

2011-10-21T17:17:00.000+05:30

Just remembered and found something we did for fun at my ex-office. Filmed, edited etc by Joshua Upputuru. Drama by yours truly :D

What say?

Wajah

2011-09-29T12:12:00.003+05:30

Zindagi mein bas saans lene ki wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main,

Har ghadi bas jeene ki nayi wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main.

Phoolon ki mehek mujhe agle mod tak le chale,

Hawa ka jhonka mujhe do saans aur de.

Pyaar ka pehla ehsaas mujhe mein ek nayi jaan bhare,

Khumaari si jo aaye, kahe thoda aur jeeya jaaye.

Khojti rahoon har pal kuch naya, kuch alag,

Maksat mile toh kuch pal ki ho raahat,

Warna bechaini sada, jhapke na meri palak,

Bas taak mein rahoon, shaayad mile junoon ki aahat.

Sthir na rahe yeh mann hai ek bhatakta raahi,

Talaash ho har pal ek naye gaanv ki,

Kal ek alag mod se hogi mulaaqat,

Yehi subah uthne ki wajah bann jaati.

Har raat sitaare mujhe banaa de chitrakaar,

Baadal ka peecha kar, sukhe paate si udta rahoon,

Jigyaasa hai amrit, jo mujhe zinda rakhe,

Indradhanush ki khoj mein hi jeevan rangeen banaaun.

Zindagi mein bas saans lene ki wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main,

Har ghadi bas jeene ki nayi wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main.

Ojhal Mann

2011-09-08T18:36:00.001+05:30

Ek choti si jhapki jab aankhon mein basi,
Mann chala phir khwabon ki oar,
Manzil kahaan kisse hai fikar,
humein toh bas hai safar ka nasha...
dharti se humein baandhe hai bas ek patli si dor.

Door kahin ek chamak si dikhi,
Ban gayi wohi manzil agli.
Aankhen tez, aur lakshya par nazar,
Chal pade hum ban gaya woh ek safar.

Pahunche jab wahaan, toh chamak na thi kahin,
Bas halki si dhoop aur hawa mein nami,
Do pal lekar saans phir mann ne bhari udaan,
Ab kahaan chale, dhoondhe kaunsa dwaar.

Kabhi na bharta, kabhi na khush,
Mann yeh behte paani sa ojhal,
Raah badalta, na aage ka pata,
Bas chalta hai na jaane kiski khoj mein,
Bas behta hai sapnon ko sach samjhe.

- © HAEM ROY

The jig

2011-07-29T20:43:00.001+05:30

A few days ago, I was commuting to office in a train in the Ladies compartment. A eunuch (honestly, I don't like using this term but is there an alternative that is better and more respectful? If yes, please feel free to correct me.) entered the train. Nothing unusual there. (He or she? I am just going to use it for now even though I don't prefer that) started begging. Nothing unusual again.

For the initial moments I ignored as is the habit. But then I noticed. This was probably not a eunuch. It was probably just a guy in woman's clothing. Someone who looked about 18 to 20 years of age, chubby and more like a big baby.

Then I noticed something else. Something was not right. The guy (I shall not refer to the person as male, for it seemed like a male), seemed mentally challenged. The expressions, the way he behaved, all reminded me of someone who could be much much younger. Maybe a child who had just learnt to beg. And I decided to just give him some money. The moment I called him and did that, to my surprise, he did a little spontaneous jig. It was no mad jig, neither intentional. It just reminded me of how a little child would just do a jig if you hand it a toffee. There was this innocence in his happiness at getting the buck. It was just one rupee, but he seemed overjoyed.

Many may say it is probably just an act. But my mind does not believe it. Maybe because I was there and they weren't, and there are definitely things I cannot describe in words. I even remember, some ladies asked him to get off by violently pointing at the door. And as he looked at the ladies, he made a mock sad face (again, like how kids do) and imitated their actions. It was surely not something out of lewdness or anger or evil mockery. It was childish. Really childish.

And that was one of the moments when I felt, I wish there was something that could be done for him. But we humans (me included) are primarily selfish creatures. We want to survive, and we spend our lives trying to live well. We struggle to get a good life. Very few can manage to touch other lives in that duration. And that is just the sad way it is. I can help, to a certain extent. But I can't give people a home, I can't feed them for life, or teach them till they graduate. I can volunteer in a small way. And just hope that helps.

But I am digressing. I don't mean this post to be social. I just meant to narrate something that touched me. And it also reminded me of a previous encounter, again in a train. Here is an account of that in the form of a poem I had written -

http://haemlet.blogspot.com/2007/07/try-it.html

Mumbai-Delhi fight fight

2011-04-20T14:44:00.000+05:30

Well, the Mumbai-Delhi debate will never end. Every city has its faults and every city has its positives. But to harp on only one of these makes a city incomplete. After all, just like with any human, it is the flaws and the favours together that make it complete.

Here is one of those debates:

Against Delhi:
http://www.manujoseph.com/City%20of%20Sperms.html

The response:
http://www.facebook.com/notes/sonal-narain/an-open-letter-to-mr-manu-joseph/10150170162595827

The 'Principal' factor - Part 2

2011-04-05T14:56:00.004+05:30

A while ago, I had written a post commenting on our education system and talking about some incidents that happened at a college in Mumbai, about a principal who had no principles.

(The Post - http://haemlet.blogspot.com/2010/12/principal-factor.html)

Time has passed, but nothing has improved at that college. In fact things have gotten worse. The principal is now even more of a dictator, and his only aim seems to be to establish his power. The way I see it, his masochistic attitude is gaining momentum due to the fear that parents and students are harboring. They are willing to bow down and accept his weird terms and demands, feed his ego and give him the satisfaction of getting everything he wants the way he wants it.

What has he done now you ask?

Well, even in this tough competitive age, tell me, how many students in a class can possibly fail, all together? 10? 15? Can you imagine 65 students in a class of 80, all failing? That is exactly what has happened.

The reason? It is given to be 'incomplete projects'. They have achieved less than the required marks in a practical subject and as a result they will not be allowed to appear for the theory exams and have in all technicality 'failed'.

This may be a stunt to show students that they need to be serious about their studies and give them a jolt. But my point is, what is the use of a stunt that doesn't just mess with a student's future, but can lead to a lot of mental stress also? Imagine what a student may do on hearing the news of his/her failure? Is it not putting the life of the student in jeopardy too? Is it not harassment? At a time when everyone is talking about reducing pressure and stress on students, here is one 'Marshall' who is championing the opposite cause and in fact piling the stress on the parents too.

When asked to complain to the Mumbai University, or approach some council, or the media, firstly, the students or parents did not know who to approach. The university website is the most unfriendly site I have ever visited. It just leads you nowhere. How does one get in touch with the right authorities? For that matter, who ARE the right authorities to approach in such a scenario?

Secondly, the parents are afraid to take any step. The kids have two more years left in that college and they are not sure if doing something, if protesting will actually give a solution, or will just make things worse. They are not willing to risk the future of their kids. Because from what has been seen in the past, the principal believes he is the ultimate authority, and can go to all lengths, from blackmail to pressure and more to get the students and parents to do what he says. This time, he has made them sign a letter, that has the parents admit that it is their kid's fault and that the kid has not completed the project. In other words, parents are forced to admit that their own child is incompetent? And for what? To massage the principal's ego? What use does this exercise have?

And I found out that, despite signing the letter, despite giving in to the princi, more than 70% of the students in that class were not allowed to appear for the exams this April. They will have to appear in October and that in itself has a lot of complications. Some even have reason to believe that the marking system is faulty and they are sure they have passed but are not given fair and just grades. I cannot believe that this is happening in a democracy and no one, no one is doing anything to curb it.

And even if I give the princi all benefit of doubt, if I agree that the students were not up to the mark, did not have enough attendance or whatever the reason given. Still, if more than 85% of your class is failing, isn't it a reflection on your teaching methods then? Wouldn't this in fact be a shameful thing for your college, your teaching system and your education? And instead of scaring the students into getting suppressed, and bow down to your rules and will, shouldn't you offer guidance and help and give them a way to improve and score better?

I mean, if you really want the students to work harder, make the marking system more difficult, but make it fair. Teach them the right way to do things. Be strict, but also be someone they respect and can learn from. That will get your college a better passing average than all this. That will also save a lot of lives and futures and give your college a strong alumni.

But if people understood this, the world would be a better place right?

Disclaimer: The views in this post are entirely mine. No student or parent is related to this. I have refrained from naming the college or any person to respect the privacy of those involved. But I do hope, someone comes forward.

My style

2011-04-01T18:06:00.000+05:30

I was randomly surfing, when I discovered www.etsy.com. And I loved it! It has handmade and vintage stuff from all over the world, uploaded by users to sell. You can buy anything from clothes and accessories to diaries and a lot more. And there are a few sellers whose stuff I totally fell in love with.

The bad part is shipping costs for these items. So even if you find something quite cheap, you will end up spending a lot due to that. Sigh!

Pani Puri!

2011-04-01T18:05:00.000+05:30

Pani Puri - the quintessential chat that tingles everyone's senses! For me, it brings an instant twinkle to my eyes and I start salivating.

Today we had pani puri in office. Every month birthdays of all the people in the past month are celebrated. And the March birthdays were all celebrated with Pani Puri. Yaaay! And Yum!

Pierced through and through

2011-03-28T16:06:00.001+05:30

A little gory, but again I have been watching crime shows a lot. Here goes:

It starts with a little poke,

A tease, a scratch,

Finding it's way in,

The needle slowly inching in.

A drop of blood, oh, it's just one,

I'll wipe it away.

But one drop gets replaced by two,

and then they turn eight.

The draining starts,

the pouring begins,

it's all on the floor.

The needle is now way in,

pierced through and through.

Can't stop.

Can't dab,

just let it flow,

just let it all go.

It will eventually stop,

it has to,

till then just lie still,

till then just think of sheep and clouds,

Don't look at the needle,

don't look at the pool beneath.

- © HAEM ROY

Date a girl who reads by Rosemary Urquico

2011-03-17T15:16:00.000+05:30

Written by Rosemary Urquico. Has been circulated and passed around a lot. I stumbled upon this a few days ago and just loved it, and HAD to repost it. Thanks Rosemary for writing this.
__________
"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

A goodbye?

2011-03-16T18:34:00.001+05:30

I pack up my thoughts,
I pick up my memories,
Without any footwear,
I seem to walk out with apparent ease.

I step out of the threshold,
I pull myself away,
I swear not to look back,
It's time to go away.

"I shall visit soon",
"I'll drop in for tea",
Or so we say,
Before we go our way.

Why so serious they tell me,
But goodbyes are never cheerful,
They bring an impending doom,
They always leave you tearful.

And thus we part,

But it's not forever they say,

Though while I start walking I wonder,

how can a goodbye be half way?

- © HAEM ROY

A nice gesture

2011-03-16T14:26:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, ricks and cabs went on a strike. And transport was difficult. The good thing is I travel by train, and then I could have my brother pick me up from the station to home.

But not everyone was that lucky.

It was not like this was a tough time or anything. But yet, something nice happened and I wanted to share it with everyone.

Close to 11.15 pm last night, I was standing outside Kandivli station, waiting for my brother to arrive. People were standing outside the station, hopeful to grab the 2-3 ricks that were plying. That is when, a lady approached me. She asked me very nicely if I needed to be dropped anywhere and if she could help me. I thanked her and told her someone was coming to pick me.

But the gesture overwhelmed me. She smiled, patted me on the arm and walked away, keeping an eye out for anyone who would need help. It was a breath of fresh air, a pleasant surprise and something that gave me a wide smile. We all always talk of helping people. But it is rare that we actually gather the courage or the sense to approach someone and ASK them if they need help. We wait for people to come to us.

And someone coming and offering help, being observant enough to notice a girl standing alone at the station late at night, and having the courage to offer help to a stranger - that is what I salute. I would call it the spirit of the city, but honestly, I haven't seen that very often these days. So I will not give credit to the city, but to that unknown lady, who I am sure helped someone else that day.

I say thank you to her.

A small village in a big city - Khotachiwadi

2011-03-14T15:15:00.002+05:30

Bombay is a large city. Tourists coming here do explore many famous parts of the city, right from the Gateway to the Elephanta Caves to Esselworld and what not. But those of us who have settled here very rarely visit such touristy places. We also very rarely think that Bombay (yes, I shall call it that, for the nth time), has much to offer in terms of exploring, seeing, or visiting. Yes, you can go to Crawford and buy things. Or you can walk down Colaba. But none of these are something that the ordinary person living here would feel out of place, or different.

This Sunday, amidst the chaos, hustle-bustle and crowd of this ever-growing city, I found an oasis. A little hidden place that threw me off.

My three girlfriends and I visited Khotachiwadi. It is a little area, just off Charni Road, quite close to the station. You turn into a thin lane that is not wide enough for a car, with a conspicuous board at the entry. Walk a few steps, and you will wonder what happened. You are greeted by colourful single story wood houses, with balconies, plants, tiny bylanes interconnecting the houses, a grotto, graffitii painted walls, and more. It is entirely reminiscent of old Goa. And it is in Bombay.

The moment you turn into the Khotachiwadi lane, it is like all outside sound has been shut off. Nothing filters in, and you can actually hear sparrows. In fact, I actually saw a peahen, an arm's distance away, happily sitting on one of the houses.

Khotachiwadi is inhabited by East Indians, Maharashtrians and Goan Catholics. The plot of land was originally owned by Mr. Khot, who allowed migrants to settle and build houses here. The migrants slowly bought their pieces of land from him, turning this place into a small community.

No matter who you talk to, everyone here will tell you that this wadi is like a large family. Most people have migrated abroad, leaving maybe just a few members of the family back here. A lot of times, it is old parents who live here alone. And in times of need, of sickness and of trouble, anytime of the day or night, it is the neighbours who handle everything like family would.

The people come together during Christmas, and here, it FEELS like Christmas. They meet every evening, they pray together, they hold festivals and fun and fairs. And the best part, anyone and everyone is invited. These events are peaceful and quiet, with no blaring music, or alcohol.

The houses here too are Portuguese style. Some over 100 years old. A lot of them have been rebuilt. But they are colourful, open, filled with plants and each one has a character of its own. They are not boxes. They may be small, but they are not suffocating or claustrophobic. They have an old world charm and a new world spirit of liveliness, bundled together.

The place started with around 70 or more houses. But today, only 27 remain. And being located in such prime property area, it is no surprise that builders are doing their best to get the residents to sell their plots and houses. Some have done that, giving way to 18 floor skyscrapers, that look odd and out of place in this quaint neighbourhood, and attracting the wrath of the other residents of the area.

The place was declared a heritage site, but now with laws changing at the drop of a hat, the status is also under doubt. This leaves the area and the residents fighting to keep the place alive, to not let it be swallowed up by the concrete jungle that seems to be spreading like plague. Holding festivals, pot lucks, trying to get publicity and raise awareness, get more people involved in the cause, and just do anything, they are building their own wall to shield their Khotachiwadi.

Will they be successful? I don't know. Should they be successful? I want that yes. Because like Mrs. Bridget Misquita said, "Money is not everything." The joy of discovering that this place exists in a city like Bombay is even greater.

The mask with many faces

2011-03-11T16:05:00.002+05:30

The mask...
the mask...
it is the cover,
it is my shell,
it is what I use,
to hide my hell.

The mask is green,
The mask is red,
It is pink with joy,
It is always a smile ahead.
The colours are many,
Drawing attention,
They are the illusion,
They are the surface above the reality.

What lies beneath,
what lies within,
Sometimes even I know not,
The mask with many faces,
Hides my true face from me,
The mask with many colours,
Makes me forget the true colour of me.

Keep it fixed, keep it on,
Let the act keep going on.
The moment it comes off,
There you lie,
Stripped of the colours,
Bare and dry.
There you lie with your true emotions,
With nowhere to hide,
The fake colours of joy stripped,
The mask pushed aside.

The mask...
the mask...
it is my protection,
it is my shield,
it saves me from my thoughts,
It keeps them controlled and sealed.

- © HAEM ROY

50 things to do before you die in India

2011-02-25T17:02:00.000+05:30

Found this post at this website. Interesting.

50 things to do before you die in India

1. See the Taj Mahal
2. Eat at the highway Punjabi dhaba
3.Watch an Indian movie in the theatre
4.Play cricket on the street
5.Put mehndi aka henna on your palms
6.Take a dip in the Ganges at Varanasi
7. Walk through the bazaar of Chandni Chowk, Old Delhi
8.Go to Pushkar Mela(Fair)
9. Sip tea at a streetside stall
10. Watch the cricket match at Eden Gardens Stadium, Calcutta
11.Visit the city of Palitana, City of Jain temples
12.See the Golden Temple, Amritsar.
13.Spend a week at Osho Ashram, Pune
14.Sunset with the camels on the sand dunes of Rajasthan
15. Visit the mystical ruins of Khajuraho
16.Tiger Safari at one of the many Tiger Reserves
17.Visit the Gir Sanctuary, the last refuge for the endangered Asiatic Lions in the world.
18.Attend the Durga Puja in Calcutta
19.Fly kites at the annual kite flying festival in Ahmedabad
20. Blind yourself dancing in the monsoon rains (my personal favorite)
21. Go the southern tip of India, Kanya Kumari.
22.Get an oil massage in Kerala
23.Ganesh Visarjan, watch the idol of Ganesh the Hindu God being immersed in the sea.
24.Visit the Tirupati Temple, Tirumala.
25.Stay at the Udaipur Lake Palace Hotel, Udaipur.
26.Dine at The Taj Hotel, Bombay
27.Take the Darjeeling Train Journey, Darjeeling.
28.Volunteer at an Orphanage.(believe me it will change your life)
29.Travel in the train (make sure it’s not first class)
30. See the Meenakshi Temple, Madurai
31. Attend the Republic Day Parade, New Delhi.
32.See the world famous Dabbawallahs (lunch delivery specialists, all of them uneducated) in action in Bombay. (given a six sigma rating for organization and zero wrong deliveries)
33.Meet the Real Maharaja staying at one of the heritage hotels.
34.Go to Ladakh the highest plateau in the world
35.Visit the Chapel of St. Francis Xavier in Old Goa.
36.Yak Safari in Sikkim
37.See the Sun Temple in Konark, Orissa.
38.Stay in the Shikara or House boat in Dal Lake, Kashmir.
39.See the Mysore Fort lit up, Mysore.
40.Sun Bathe in Goa.
41.Visit the Gandhi Ashram, Ahmedabad
42.See Jodhpur, the blue city, Rajasthan.
43.See the Red Fort and Qutub Minar, Delhi.
44.Tashi Jong Monastery, a Buddhist Monastery, Himachal Pradesh.
45.Follow the Buddha Trail, Where Budhha found enlightenment.
46.Scuba Diving in Andaman Islands.
47.Visit the Ajmer Dargah, Ajmer.
48. Ride a motorcycle on the street of India.( seems impossible)
49.Do Kushti i.e. Indian form of wrestling.
50.Get a Gold Facial. Yes, 22 carat gold facial.

Restaurant Week: OLIVE BAR AND KITCHEN

2011-02-21T14:33:00.007+05:30

Restaurant Week was on, and my friends and I decided that we needed to get together, and treat ourselves fancily. So we booked ourselves a table at Olive, and loosened our purse strings.

What: Olive Bar and Kitchen

Where: Mahalaxmi Race Course, near Gate No. 7

Cuisine: Continental, plus alcohol

Ambience:
Elegant, classy, serene. The outdoors is nice, furnished in shades of white and off-white, candles on the table, a fountain and a beachy feel to it. There are two pretty ladies personally coming to your table, playing the guitar and singing, on some days. Everything has this air of quiet elegance and soft glamour, not a hoity toity five star and not even a random fine dining place.

Food:
I went through Restaurant Week and hence, the menu was a fixed three-course meal. We did not order anything a la carte, except a bottle of wine. There were three of us, so we could order three different things in every course.

The food is decent. It is tasty, and the salads are something to talk about. Even if it is just 'leaves', as my friends put it, they are still delicious, with the dressings. The Restaurant Week menu was not something grand or great - just a usual fare of an assortment of some continental dishes.

For the first course, we had a Caesar Salad, Wild Mushroom Borek and the Olive Oil poached Duck Breast Salad.

The Mushroom Borek was a crunchy puff pastry filled with mushroom and herbs. There was a green chutney dip with it which together tasted quite nice. The textures complimented each other well, and there was a depth of flavour too. Bit the crunch, to find a soft and creamy mushroom filling.

The Caesar salad we ordered was vegetarian and had a nice dressing to compliment it. The veggies were very very fresh, and that made it a pleasure to eat. Even though it was not much in terms of preparation, the fresh ingredients made up for it. The lettuce had just the right amount of crunch, and dressing, with nothing overpowering, and finding little salted capers amidst that jungle was an absolute delight.

The Olive Oil Poached Duck Breast Salad arrived, and the meat was camouflaged under the leafy green lettuce. The presentation left a lot to be desired, as it almost felt like the duck breast was attempting to engage us in a game of hide and seek, among the leaves. But once the salad touched the taste buds, it was an explosion of flavour. Dominated by the lemon vinaigrette, the leaves were crisp, and the orange and arugula added an interesting contrast to the flavours, with tangy, bitter and saccharine playing subtle games with the taste buds.

The best thing was the portions. They were really good for one person, and would fill someone with a good appetite. At the end of the course, we were already feeling a bit full.

Next came a watermelon sorbet as a palate cleanser. And it did the job quietly. The flavour was just about right, without dominating, or leaving a strong aftertaste in the mouth.

The main course followed. We first opted for the Seared Tenderloin Medallions, the Seared Basa Fillets and the Vegetable Pot pie, but we were then informed that the medallions were not available. So we substituted the Medallions for the Crumbled Sausage Green Peas and Cauliflower Risotto. and we chose a Vegetable Pot Pie, the Seared Basa Fillets, and the Risotto. The Pot Pie was honestly, quite ordinary, and not something I would come to a restaurant to eat. I expected more out of the vegetarian menu and was quite disappointed with the main course offerings. My thought was that if I am coming to a nice place, I'd like to try something new too, and not the usual Arrabiata or pot pie. The pie was creamy with diced vegetables and a crunchy pastry on the top. It was rich and hence, very filling. Yet there was something missing.

The Basa Fillet was delightful. The fish meat was succulent and tender, and did a good job of retaining the flavour of the marinade. The meat, though tender, was not quite melt-in-the-mouth quality. The glaze that the brown butter provided glinted in the candlelight, providing a bit of visual appeal, and also added a richer quality to the flavour. The seasonal vegetables that accompanied the fish added a contrasting crunch to the smooth texture of the fish. All in all, the dish was good, but not what one would call memorable.

We ordered all three desserts. I absolutely loved the cheesecake. The Affogato was nice too, and chocolate fans would quite like the pate. For me though, it got a bit overwhelming after a couple of bites and I could have no more. To be fair, it was nice and gooey in the centre, as it should be, and had the right texture.
We ordered a Sula Chenin Blanc, which was not too sweet, not too dry, and went well with the food.

Negatives:
The menu felt very limited for a vegetarian, and if the purpose of Restaurant week is to have people try out new places, then they should have at least attempted to have something new in their menus too. I am not talking about extravagant and expensive dishes, but I am talking about something a little more than just vegetables put together. The non-vegetarian section seemed sufficient on that count, though one item on the main course menu - the medallions, was not available. It was surprising that the management allowed that to happen, especially during restaurant week, as they should have expected a crowd which would probably be trying out Olive for the first time. Instances such as this definitely diminish the chances of a repeat visit.

The wine list at Olive seemed limited too, as they did not have a dessert wine, when we asked for one. The Chenin Blanc was what was recommended to us, and it was good yes, but we preferred something sweeter.
The servers did have a knowledge of wines and food, that seemed useful for first-timers who do not know what to expect at Olive. Though, they could do with passing on the knowledge in a friendlier manner.

Positives:
The ambiance is quite nice and a good mix of casual and classy, comfy and sophisticated. We liked the outdoors better than the secluded interior space.
We were lucky to have live music on the day, with two young women moving from table to table with a guitar, singing songs on request. We even interacted with the two musicians and it was quite nice.

The outdoor area is really nice, and something rare in Mumbai, without any traffic noise or any other interruptions. It is a great setting for nice conversations.
The portions were very good, and I liked the first course the best. It set the bar high, but unfortunately, nothing else matched up to it.

The service was polite and prompt, and quite smooth too. Wine glasses were refilled quietly and the servers would ask how we liked everything.

In short:
It is a nice place to go once in a while, and spend some quiet, happy time with friends or family or your beloved. Children are not allowed, so it is nice if you want to go for a date too. It's better in the evenings, with the candlelights. Choose your meal well, with some wine, and you will have a good time. But a fair warning, don't go for the food, go for the ambiance and the experience.

(With inputs by Mariette Valsan, esp for the non-vegetarian section.)

Nouveaublogophobia - Fear of new blog posts

2011-02-15T17:23:00.004+05:30

Aibohphobia - Fear of palindromes

Person 1- "Dammit, I'm mad!"

Person 2- "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Alliumphobia - Fear of garlic.

Vampire, anyone?

Allodoxaphobia - Fear of opinions.

No comments.

Ambulophobia, Stasibasiphobia, Stasiphobia - Fear of walking or standing.

Cathisophobia, Kathisophobia, Thaasophobia - Fear of sitting.

One person, both these fears. Go imagine!

Anablephobia - Fear of looking up.

Eyes on the floor, young lad, eyes on the floor!

Androphobia, Arrhenphobia, Hominophobia - Fear of men.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Anglophobia - Fear of England, English culture, etc.

What an arse!

Francophobia, Gallophobia, Galiophobia - Fear of France, French culture, etc.

Must be British.

Arachibutyrophobia - Fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Autodysomophobia - Fear that one has a vile odour.

Keep a deo handy dude!

Autophobia, Eremophobia, Isolophobia, Monophobia - Fear of being alone or fear of oneself

Who's that?

Oh, it me...

Oh wait... Aaaaaaaaa!

Cacophobia - Fear of ugliness.
Interesting.

Caligynephobia, Venustraphobia - Fear of beautiful women.

Even more interesting.

Chirophobia - Fear of hands.

Yeh haath mujhe de do Thakur!

Chrometophobia, Chrematophobia - Fear of money.

Plutophobia - Fear of wealth.

I am a pretty helpful person. I am willing to take what these people fear. For the greater good of course.

Coprophobia, Scatophobia - Fear of feces.

Oh shit!

Counterphobia - The preference by a phobic person for fearful situations.

Sadist!

Decidophobia - Fear of making decisions.

Should I blog this, should I not? Should I? Should I not? Aaaaaaaaaaa!

Dextrophobia - Fear of objects at the right side of the body.
Fine, I'll keep to the left.

Levophobia - Fear of things to the left side of the body.

Dammit!

Diplophobia - Fear of double vision.
Dipsophobia - Fear of drinking.

Funny how they are co-related.

Ephebiphobia - Fear of teenagers.

This fear is courtesy of a parent.

Euphobia - Fear of hearing good news.

- Congratulations! You are cured of the fatal disease.

- Noooooooooooooooooo!

Geniophobia - Fear of chins.

Now, that's where a double chin would be a real nightmare.

Homophobia - Fear of sameness, monotony, homosexuality or of becoming homosexual.

Ummm... how are homosexuality and monotony related?

Katikomindicaphobia - Fear of the RNI (Resident Non-Indian).

Mikatikoindicaphobia - Fear of the NRIs (Non-Resident Indians).

Funny how it's all about India.

Syngenesophobia - Fear of relatives.

I'd say, welcome to India :)

Novercaphobia - Fear of one's stepmother.

Meet Cinderella...

Symbolophobia - Fear of symbolism.

You're telling that to an English Literature student?

Technophobia - Fear of technology.

Hello Apeman... Do you understand what I am saying?

Macrophobia - Fear of long waits.
Suicide point: government office.

Mnemophobia - Fear of memories.

Try amnesia... Ghajini style.

Amnesiphobia - Fear of amnesia.

Ummm... do nothing memorable?

Ideophobia - Fear of ideas.

Idiot.

Phronemophobia - Fear of thinking.
Lazy.

Ergophobia - Fear of work.

Smart!

Panophobia, Pantophobia - Fear of everything.

Convenient!

Names of fears from: http://www.fact-index.com/l/li/list_of_phobias.html

Office Office

2011-02-11T18:57:00.000+05:30

It's a new office and a new place for me. The job profile has changed slightly. The people have changed entirely. But of course, there are some things that never change.

Every office has certain characters that are very very standard. They are a staple in a medium to large sized office environment, and every office is incomplete without these characters.

There is the moody and broody Finance guy. He releases your salary, and more often than not, it seems that he takes that personally. He seems to be PMSing at the end of every month, mourning the loss of cash, and every new employee is like a stab for him. His high is not alcohol, but profits. And what a high!
Then there is the office 'chamia'. Everyone loves to love her. And she loves the attention. She is the looker, she is the reason why people don't mind dragging themselves to work every morning. One smile, and the day is set. And she is what they talk about when they are drunk with office mates.
There is of course, the poor, hard worker. He may be the trainee, or he may be a regular exec. But he will work harder than all of them put together. He is the one you will see in office after everyone has left and before everyone is in. And he will quietly go about doing every task and more.
Tyrannical bosses cannot be missed out. They run about, they scream, and they are the topic of frustration-venting-discussions. Sleepless nights were a gift from them. And their backs are the best places to exchange glances. They will blame everyone in the world. And everyone will love to blame them.
The office jesters, who prance about, crack bad jokes, lighten the mood and love everyone. They smile, and get smiles, they make trips fun, and they are always invited to everything.
The star - who will hog attention, and want it. The star - who is sometimes arrogant, and talks only to select people. Who knows he/she is good, and never fails to show that.
The silent star. This is the real star. But will never show it. he/she will quietly go about working. But the day he/she is on leave, that is when chaos comes to earth and the star is valued.

I am sure there will be more. These are those I noticed. Feel free to add more if you can think of them.

My Card

2011-01-11T18:17:00.002+05:30

So, people who read my blog, I am proud to present my official personal business card:

The computer creatures

2011-01-10T20:12:00.004+05:30

This is something I think about a lot of times when I am sitting on my comp. When I see processes moving slow, or very fast due to more or less load, I always imagine little creatures inside the CPU working really fast. When you are doing too many things, they can't multitask, and therefore everything becomes slow. If the comp is on for too long, they are tired, and everything gets delayed. Otherwise, they work in perfect sync, passing on information to each other and quickly finishing work.

So here is an attempt at a story, based on that imagination of mine.

The computer creatures

They were sleeping peacefully after a long night of running around when they were suddenly roused early in the morning. Work beckoned again. They got up lethargically and started carrying the items to their right places. Within microseconds, their speed had increased 10 times and they were rushing about faster than light. The little orbs of information had to be transported from place to place, and it was their job, their life to do it.

An authoritative voice shouted out orders into the loudspeaker. Some file had to be opened, and the little green creatures turned the key hanging around their necks and opened the large file in a micro-micro second. At the same time, there were orders to move a 'boulder file', as they called it, to the far end of the area. Immediately, many of them rushed to the spot and lifted the boulder to carry it across.

That was not enough, it was time to set up 'the connection'. As if working within the area wasn't enough, now it was time to work with other green creatures, in other areas. Did the humans even know how chaotic and exhausting that was? Did they even know how many casualties that led to? One 'virus' and half the area could be affected by the plague and be wiped out. Plus, everyone was afraid of that 'Worldwide Web'. It was like the black hole. No one knew where it led to, what would emerge out of it, or even where it would lead them. Only the daredevil ones ventured into that profession. The meek and timid ones stayed back and took care of the area work. They managed the old files, managed the backups and archiving, sat in the library for hours and took care of all those details. Adventure was a bit too much for them.

The portal to the black hole had been opened, and a few daredevils plunged in with their parachutes. They had special search torches to find their way in case they were lost. And they hoped to God that the human had hired the special forces for security against the terrorist viruses! Because only the specialists had training in recognising unwanted elements before opening or bringing them home.

As the day progressed, the green creatures were reaching the limits of exhaustion. The movers team was working ever so slowly, and parcels would just get stuck mid-way because someone had collapsed on some aisle. Yes yes, the human was frustrated with the 'not responding' errors, but there is only so much a green creature can do. Everyone has their limits.

Dragging their feet along the ground, the daredevil team finally returned home. It was a good adventure today, no casualties, just a lot of exhaustion and work. They had to rest before the next trip now, because, well, you couldn't trust the humans. They would press the buzzer and wake everyone up at any time. Better to catch a few winks when you can!

So, buzz ya later! Keep clicking.

OvenFresh - A Vegetarian Delight

2010-12-20T18:01:00.001+05:30

I am a vegetarian. That means, finding a good place to eat gets quite difficult. At best, you get the regular Udipi or some fancy looking restaurant that serves very ordinary Punjabi fare. Honestly, I stay away from such food as much as possible. Too rich food and too much oil leads to a sort of party-gone-wrong in my stomach. So, when I find a good place that offers good variety too, I am usually ecstatic. And this was the case when I landed at Ovenfresh.

Where: Shivaji Park, on the road that leads straight from the station to Dadar Chowpatty.

What: An all-veg bakery-cum-restaurant, serving Continental and a bit of Middle Eastern cuisine. Pizzas, Pastas, Sizzles and some Hummus and Falafels.

Ambience: The first thing you see when you enter is the bakery and the crowd at the counter. The croissants, doughnuts, pastries, cakes, tarts and more are all lined up beautifully. There is a glass box behind the counter, which has a part of the kitchen, and you can actually see the chefs in action. I find that bit quite interesting and love to watch them whip up stuff.

The seating area is divided into two sections - one at the front and one at the back. Seating is comfortable, but both areas can get quite noisy and chaotic during busy hours. And when I say busy, I mean really busy! If you are in a group, you may have to wait for a while to get seating. The back area has some fun graffiti, but as a friend pointed out, they could do with some soft music to drown the noise made by people and make the place more pleasant. Overall, it is not fine dining, or even decorated restaurant-like. But it gives a cosy feel and is the kind of place that is best enjoyed with a large group of family or friends.

Positives - Food:
The baked goods in the front area look very inviting. Glazed, golden and generous with fillings. The pastries and cakes look good too, are moist and fresh. Whole cakes are freshly made on order on the same day. The doughnuts are soft and tasty, and the tarts are crumbly and good too.

As for the restaurant, the menu itself is very interesting and varied. They have a variety of pastas from Raviolis to Lasagne to Cannelloni. You won't find the regular Arabiatta here, but you will surely discover many more tastes and flavours in vegetarian continental cuisine. They have pastas in Orange Butter Sauce and stuffed with vegetables too. The Ravioli with sun-dried tomato is delicious with a good dollop of yummy tomato sauce and just the right flavour. The Enchiladas are known to be a favourite. I definitely wish to try every single of their pasta items at least once for sure as I couldn't help but read that section of the menu over and over again, smiling to myself. I just loved the combinations that they have put together.

If pasta is not your thing, you can opt for the Sizzlers or the 'Make your own Pizza'. You can choose your base and toppings and it is served hot, and in a large portion. The thin crust is the winner, with a crispy base and enough toppings. The sizzlers too look decent, but I would prefer the pastas and pizzas any day. The sizzlers too look colourful, are delicious and have good portions.

Besides Italian fare, they also offer sandwiches, burgers and some Middle Eastern dishes. I haven't tried those, but I saw them on the next table and they looked inviting enough. There is not much variety in starters or beverages though and they could do with adding a few more attractions there. But whatever is on offer, is nothing less than delicious. They also offer some parathas and very very limited Indian fare, though I doubt it would be asked for often.

The desserts of course are a cracker. No matter what you choose, it will be difficult to not like it. I loved their Plum cake and cheesecakes, and the tarts and doughnuts are good too. They have nailed the balance of taste in their food and that works to their advantage.

Negative - Service:
The place is very noisy and seems very small. The service is really slow and lazy, and it can take ages for someone to listen to you. I was crying out for some friendly gesture from my server. And it can take really long for your order to arrive sometimes. The portions are good enough for one main course dish to fill one person entirely, so if you go with people, you get to try more stuff. Another negative it a lot of the items on the menu are available only from 11am to 3pm and 7.30 pm onwards.

Overall, the place is definitely worth a few visits. In fact, it has been known to convert many non-vegetarians I know and get them to appreciate and speak positively of vegetarian food for the first time.
So, this may not a place for a late lunch or early dinner. But it sure is a place to enjoy some brilliant food and believe that even vegetarian fare can be really really good.

The 'Principal' factor

2010-12-20T16:58:00.002+05:30

This is not the first time I will be commenting on our education system. But before I begin, a small disclaimer. Whatever is said here, is merely my opinion, and not any attempt to defame or insult anyone. It may or may not be the whole truth, but what I speak about is the side I know about.

So, let me begin.

Recently I heard about a small incident in a reputed architecture college. Well, not exactly small. The college principal has recently been appointed, and since his appointed, has been surrounded by dissatisfaction, controversy and rebellion. And for good reason too.

During assignment checking, the Principal would make the students wait in line outside his office from early morning to midnight and more. Till the checkings finished. Now, I do believe that it is really unethical to make a student wait so late, esp when you are not going to provide him/her transport back home (yes, girls too!) Following this, a parent wrote a complaint to the media, which led to the Principal ending up in the spotlight and being questioned. But would that deter him? No way. In fact he went around threatening students to sign a letter that said that he was innocent, or else he would fail all of them. Older students would still say no. But the first years, fresh into college and scared to death, would obviously give in to the threats.

This did not end here. Many such issues happened. Now we have to understand that in an architecture college, it is not just lectures, there are also assignments that take all day. I have known people slogging over assignments all night and barely getting any sleep, throughout the year. Having full knowledge of this, the Principal still increased lecture timings and kept the college open on Saturdays too. Which led to less time to complete assignments and more stress, pressure and less sleep. Teachers would object, but they had no say either.

The most recent incident happened a couple of weeks ago. Some background. Final year students have a thesis to submit along with other assignments. They spend almost 2 years on this thesis. They also have to spend their final semester at an internship working. The lectures happen, but it is often that they do not happen and are cancelled. Lecture timings are one lecture from 7-11 am, and another from 11-2. The attendance format was changed by the new principal such that attendance would be taken at 7 am, 11 am, and 2 pm, whether lectures were cancelled or not. So if the 11 am lecture did not happen, attendance would still be taken, but at 2 pm, not 11 am. As a result, many students chose not to come and instead spend the time on finishing assignments, thesis, etc. Better than whiling away 3 hrs in college doing nothing right?

Well not for the Principal. The attendance of students in class as a result was not 75% due to the system. In fact, the person with the highest attendance had a total of 74 something %. That says something doesn't it? Well the Principal decided he had to 'show his authority and power' again and forced the students to write a letter saying they did not have complete attendance and scored unsatisfactory marks (even if they didn't) and that's why the Principal had complete right to not send their exam forms to the university. This had to signed by them and their parents or else, guess what? The Principal would not send the forms to the university.

So, in order to get this straight, the students had to write a letter allowing the Principal to not send forms, in order to stop him from not sending forms. It was a lose-lose situation.

So, the students peaceful went to the Principal's office to ask him that why is he doing this. What is the purpose of signing if there are chances of withholding forms either way? And what is to be gained by such an exercise?

The Principal curtly replies that he is the Principal and has the right to do whatever he wants and is not answerable to students. He told them that if they wanted to go to the media, student council, or complain anywhere else, they could do as they wish. They could not harm him. He would make sure their exams forms are not sent. And if they want him to answer something, the most they can do is request him.

So they requested him.

And he said fine, you have requested, I have heard. Now go, and sign the letters and get it. And sent them away! They had to comply, because they had no choice, and nowhere else to go. The trustees turn a blind eye and there is no forum for complaint and action, that the Principal cannot control.

My question is, is it ok for students to be bullied by the education system like this? Is it ok to suffer it like this, because what can be done? There is no one to go to. And the system is so flawed, that if a complaint is filed to the university also, it would take ages to act upon the same. Which means the Principal can get away with blackmail and ill-treatment and waste a poor child's life. Why are authorities allowed to play with lives like this?

I know the students, and I know they slog every single day, staying awake late and barely getting 3 hours to sleep to juggle their internship and their thesis. During college days, it is the same, with a struggle to keep up under pressure. I know students who have been hospitalized too. Is it fair then to behave like this? Is it right to believe that you have the right to play with these children's future? And if this is the case with one of the top institutions, how bad will it be with other places?

While all the long-term flaws with our education continue to exist, it is this sort of immediate and impactful flaw that is much more dangerous and a cause of concern. And while we try to control the stress rate among students, does it help that teachers and school authorities do their best to increase stress? No wonder we see more suicides. No wonder even 11 year olds have killed themselves and cannot deal with the pressure any more.

It is sad, but true. And I don't know what can be done about it. Do you?

Winter

2010-12-14T01:27:00.001+05:30

I love winter. I agree that the little brushes of cool wind we have here in Bombay are not considered as winter by most, but I like to call it that.

It is the only time of the year when I abandon my shorts at home and walk around in my bro's old tee (which is huge for me and I love that) and long pants. It is the only time when I am walking around the house switching off all fans. And when I can wear long sleeves at 3 in the afternoon without thinking twice. I don't have to worry about heat headaches that I often get, or sweatiness.

It's beautiful to feel the cool air brush against your skin, and take you to a dreamland. It's beautiful to feel the sun warm you just enough and not scorch you. It is beautiful to rub your hands together and then warm them against a bonfire maybe. It's beautiful to breathe in and actually feel the cold air rush through your insides. It's beautiful to wake up to a cool morning and clutch your quilt even tighter for a small nap again. It's beautiful to run and not feel sweaty, but feel a warmth that is actually welcome. Of course, it is beautiful to get a nice warm hug from anyone who gives good hugs. Somehow, hugs are always better in winter. They make you happier.

I mean I love the rains yes. But I won't tolerate them throughout the year. But this sort of winter, I will take it any day.

For me, it's the time when fairytales seem real. It's when even though the real world Christmas here may not be as exciting, the idea of Christmas just seems to brighten you up. Winter is the time for nostalgia before the year ends, and new hopes for something ahead. New energy, that is powered by the cool rush you get. It's cosy, it's fresher, it's more homely.

It is like the world has cooled down its temper so that it can let you feel better too. And I say, bring it on because I am ready to feel good already!

गुलाबों सी पट्टी

2010-12-09T19:04:00.001+05:30

Yeh kya hua hai mujhe?

Kaise samjhaaun, ab kahoon main kise?

Ek choti si harkat,

ek lamha bana kahaani,

par alfaazon se bandh na paaya woh,

ek itihaas jiski rachna mann mein hi.

Khwabon ke dhaagon,

Se buna liya aasman,

Jad liye rang birange taare usmein,

Aur odh ke lagne laga yeh apna sa.

Dohra ke mann me,

Woh dhundhla sa pal,

Khushiyon ki silvaton mein chip gaye,

Koi shak, koi gumaan, anchaahi hulchul.

Aankhon par bandhi,

Gulaabon si patti,

Kholne ko jee na kare kabhi bhi,

Isse yeh duniya dikhe kitni madhur si.

- © HAEM ROY

Kahaan chal pade

2010-12-09T19:02:00.002+05:30

Galiyon ki mehek mein huye aise mashroof

Ke sadakon ka pata hum bhool gaye,

Fiza ki madhoshi mein kho hi gaye,

ke lamhon ka pata bhi bhool gaye.

Saundhi mitti ki khushboo bichi,

Aankhen moond hum kheeche chale,

Oas ki boondon se baatein karein,

Hariyali ki chadar par daude chale.

Patli si sadak bhi chhoot gayi,

Khushi khushi hum gum hi gaye,

Neeli chadar odh, hare bichawan par,

Thake tab do saans late gaye.

Raat ki surrati hawa suni,

Mausam jaise dharti se kare baatein,

Meethi yeh boli mein aise khoye,

Ghar wapas kaun jaana chaahe.

Khwaab chale jet plane par

2010-12-09T18:59:00.004+05:30

(A song I wrote for children.)

Khwaab chale jet plane par,

1^st class savari.

Wings ho gaye hain saare puraane,

Yeh hai style kuch nayi.

Khatte se kuch oranges mein meethi chocolate candy.

Bageeche mein chippi mili dekho Santa ki red potli.

Khwaab chale jet plane par,

1^st class savari.

Birds ke saath khel rahe hain,

Hum toh chuppa chippi.

Butterflies ne banayi hai darvaaze pe rangoli.

Stars ko bhar diye hain piggybank mein meri.

Khwaab chale jet plane par,

1^st class savari.

Rainbow ke peeche chale hum,

Koi nahin hai hurry.

Treasure chest ko dhoondh nikaala pirates ne haar maani.

Fairies ke saath dance kar lein phir ho khatam ye story.

Khwaab chale jet plane par,

1^st class savari.

Pakad ke hum bhi udne lage,

Clouds se bani dori.

- © HAEM ROY

When I have a kid

2010-12-03T14:40:00.001+05:30

You know, sometimes I wonder, what will the world be like when I have kids? What will it be like to be a parent in this century?

Imagine the weather, the global warming and environment.

Add to that the internet, television and media exposure that is taking the childhood away from so many kids.

The lack of space which means fewer playgrounds, practically no lawns and very few open areas.

The world growing smarter, which means more stress, more competition, more pressure and more burden. Livelihood becomes even more difficult to earn, and average is just not enough.

And speaking of competition, there is something else that has become an issue of concern these days. SCHOOLING.

Now my mother runs a playschool. So, she is at the beginning of that merry-go-round that parents have to run after. She is in touch with the happenings of the world that I have left behind 8 years ago. And yesterday, that world had another thunderstorm. Admissions.

Parents are running hamper scamper to secure admissions for their children in a good school. Those being rare, the results are heavy unaffordable donations, rigorous interviews of 3 year olds (yes, 3 year olds!), a train rush outside school gates and constant worrying for the parents. There are wait lists for schools from the moment your child is born, and admission is still not guaranteed. If your child is not a bookworm or a geek, or a sports genius, the chances of the poor brat getting through are slim. Average is just trash these days, to put it bluntly.

Today, School X is giving out admission forms from 8 in the morning. To prevent the accusations of making money by giving out too many forms and having only a few seats, the Principal decided she is only going to distribute a limited number of forms. That was hurdle no. 1. That meant that parents had to fight, run, kill and slaughter to just get their hands on the admissions forms, before the interview process began.

That resulted in hurdle no. 2. Panic and desperation. Some parents had god-knows-what epiphany and formed a line outside the gates of the school last night since 8 pm. I am not kidding, 8 pm! When my mother found out at 10 pm, there were more than a 100 parents already in line outside the school as word had travelled quickly. She too informed her students who ran, with blankets, tea and more to camp outside the school. And let me repeat, forms were to be given out at 8 am the next day!

That really shocked me. I mean, what did the person who came first and formed the line even think? 150 forms and 200 people already in line before midnight. And my mother recalled that it was a similar rush last year too, albeit not so fierce. A few ladies, 7 months pregnant, stood in line for 5 hours (that would be since 3 am!) and did not get the forms in the end.

All this makes me think, with so much madness in this world already, what is the future? Maybe home schooling eh?

The baggage of maturity

2010-12-03T14:19:00.000+05:30

The importance of being mature is often highlighted, for anybody. Teenagers are asked to behave maturely and adults have to make their decisions maturely. And once you are past a certain age, it is mandatory. It is said that being mature helps you deal with the world better, and helps you live better. In other words, it is good for you. It is desirable.

But I don't entirely agree with this. Because for me, maturity brings its own heavy baggage.

Being mature means I can deal with my problems, solve issues and be more patient in order to make the right decisions. It means I can take care of myself. Now, some may ask, how is that bad. Let me tell you how.

When I was in college lets say, if I had some issue, with friends, with guys, with teachers, with family, with almost anything, the first thing I would do is go to my closest group of friends and pour my heart out. Everyone does that at that age. Then it would be a conference with everyone consoling, suggesting, cheering me up and giving collective advice. Whether the advice was useful or not, it was always that conference that helped. Having a few people around you who cared and who were always at hand. You could rely on them to take your stress away, to ease your tension. You could afford to not think at that moment and let them throw in suggestions.

But once you grow older (and I don't mean older by age, but older by mind and experience), you learn to resolve these issues yourself. You can act practically, and not let emotion get in the way most of the times. You don't need consoling or advice to manage your problems. The solutions just come to you and you have to act on them yourself. No experimenting, speculating, trying, like in college. That is what some call maturity.

Now you can see what you lose when you gain maturity? No? You lose that conference. You lose that group of friends who were bonded by misery and adolescent issues. Yes, these friends will always be there when you need, but you won't need them that much. You won't rely on them to help you out. Because you can help yourself very well.

For me, that means losing touch with some of those people. It means isolation. It means that I am happy with myself and that's why I am going further away from these people. I don't meet them every week and discuss my life. I may call them once a week maybe and we may talk what is happening, but they are not involved in my hair fall problem, or the issue of the staining of my white shirt. They are no longer as close to me.

I do believe that isolation and maturity go hand in hand. And you cannot do anything about it. You can try your best to keep in touch with that group of people, but it can never be the same. That bond of misery and whining cannot exist any more, and that always makes the company feel different.

That always makes you realise that grown-ups are so lonely. And why being a kid once in a while is so important.

Me Update

2010-09-11T18:00:00.000+05:30

Well guys, as some of you may know, I recently quit my job, and now am pursuing an idyllic dream of doing something on my own. So here I am.

I am now a Voiceover Artist and Freelance Writer. It sounds all fancy even to me, but it's never easy. I started with networking and spreading the word, so that people think about me the next time they need anyone. And now I have put together a demo tape. (You can hear it right here on the blog. Just click on the tab above that says Hear my Demos.) *Fingers crossed*.

As for the freelance writing part, same thing. Spreading word, telling people, sending samples, etc etc. Here's where knowing 600 people on Facebook may just prove to be not entirely useless hopefully. After all, what better way to announce things to the world eh?

Now, me get back to me practice :D

Cosmopolitan? Really?

2010-08-16T17:49:00.000+05:30

I was watching the news yesterday, and I got to know that one of the so-called 'Maratha political parties' was demanding that radio stations play Marathi music, and multiplexes show Marathi films.

Let me make it clear at the outset that I have nothing against that, or the concept or against any sect, religion or region. But I do have an opinion as everyone does, and I do have the right to express it, just like the parties and the people do.

Many languages are dying, and many cultures are becoming influenced by Western ideals. I agree. I also agree that Indian culture deserves to be preserved. But is it our culture to fight, break things, create a riot and force people to believe what you believe? I may not have read many religious texts, but I do know for sure that none of them promote violence, abusive behaviour and forceful submission at any cost. Indian values have always been about peace, unity and integrity and that does not change with state or region or language. That is also why Indians are known the world over for their hospitality, their warmth and their welcoming behaviour. So when we talk about preserving our culture in a way that is actually against our culture, it's quite ironic right?

Now moving to regionalism. I talk about Maharashtra because I have been a Bombayite (yes I say Bombay!) all my life. This is the place I am familiar with, and relate to. And no matter what the name is, I know it as Bombay, I love it as Bombay. Calling it Mumbai does not make it closer to my heart, and calling it Bombay does not make it feel alien and Anglicised.

So back to the topic. Marathi films and music. I like Marathi films, though I don't understand them entirely. But what I do get, I like. I especially like Marathi theatre. And of course, staying in this city, you can't stay away from its music. But no one is going to like it if they are forced to hear it. Art has it's beauty and people should be allowed to appreciate it at will. Thrusting it in their faces will not make them open to it. On the other hand, it may have just the opposite effect.

Bombay is a cosmopolitan city. And it is what it is because of people of all communities. To say that only Maharashtrians, or Gujaratis or South Indians are the core of the city, or that North Indians or East Indians are not welcome would be wrong. Everyone has made the city and everyone should be respected.

Yes, radio should have regional music. But instead of forcing private stations, why don't people who believe in the cause start one themselves? Why don't the political parties start an NGO that promotes the regional arts, from films to music to the language?

I am a Bombayite by heart, or Mumbaiyya by name. I have lived here all my life, and earned the right to be called that. And as a citizen, I have the right to choose what I want to hear or not, what I want to see and what I want to appreciate. No furniture breaking, bandh proclaiming, slogan shouting, flag waving party can take that away from me. Tell me peacefully and I will think about whether I want to support you. Force it on me and I will make sure I never vote for you, and of course neither do my friends and family.

Simple logic right?

My Independence... or is it?

2010-08-16T12:11:00.000+05:30

On the eve on independence day, I quit my job. On impulse. I didn't like it there. I was bored, I was frustrated and everyday was a test of my patience. So one day I stopped taking the test and quit. Some called it a rash decision, but again, I am the kind of person who cannot be at a place if I feel like I am doing nothing there. I wasn't growing, I wasn't learning, I wasn't doing anything worthwhile. It was all just a big black hole, where I kept getting more and more confused. In fact, it even had me doubting my career choice. I pulled myself together and then demanded my independence.

But that is where the idealistic tale ends. I am 23. And I have quit my job. I am not sure about my career choice. And I have told myself to give myself a chance at something else before jumping back into advertising. I have many passions, I have many things I like. But how do you know if what you like and what you are good at can translate into what you do for a living? How do I know which is the best combination of like and skill for me?

I love to travel and I love to write (and I don't suck at either), so travel writing is an option. But again that's a field that many dream about, one of those utopian careers for most.

I have been told I have a good voice, and I have found Voiceovers as an interesting medium. Again, I have no idea how to start with it or whom to go. It is one of those word-of-mouth fields that works on contacts.

I like brands and communication. I like to plan things and organise. I know I can be very good at managing brands and their communication. I know what is required, I am passionate about it, and focussed. So that's another option I have, if someone will take me.

I love a lot of other things. And I am not bad at them either. But what out of these works as a career. What out of these will give me money? It's a decision I have to make. Maybe I need to jump into something, maybe not. I don't know. But what I do know is that now is the time. Now is when I can take that risk. Because if I fail, I won't drown at least.

Meanwhile, I am thinking of fulfilling another idealistic wish. A break and a vacation. Maybe a nice trip. Maybe a course in something that makes me happy. Maybe sitting at home with some coffee and mindless TV. Things that are rarely possible. But, what the hell! Why not? After all, Independence should always be happy.

Decisions

2010-07-30T12:13:00.001+05:30

An open road is rare,
a crossroad is always encountered,
there's the choice blindly made
or maybe pondering for hours,
and then you choose the way.

A decision is like mist,
Always hanging in the air,
fogs your eyes, blurs your vision,
but you can't move it aside, you can't feel it there.
Try and grasp at it,
it'll run away,
try making sense of it,
and it'll evade you.

Let your eyes adjust,
feel it on your cheek,
Imagine the road ahead in your head,
and jump forward.
Only then will the mist clear out,
And reveal the truth beyond.

- © HAEM ROY

Where the clouds are born

2010-07-28T19:16:00.007+05:30

After being trapped in the limited confines of the city for very long, I was eager to break out. And since I am not so brilliant at planning trips, and more importantly co-ordinating with people, I readily joined in when some friends planned a trip to Malshej.

Before leaving, all I knew about Malshej was it was a hill station some 3-4 hours from Bombay. Rumours were that some parts of Raavan had been shot there. I was happy with that.

We went to Thane by rick and then took a train to Kalyan. Some of the people had heard very bad reviews of the food at Malshej. So at Kalyan station, we picked up a lot of fruits, some Maggi and instant soup packets and a few munchies. We then took a rickety ST bus to Malshej Ghats. Once we crossed the city borders, the can't-take-my-face-away-from-the-window journey began. Wind in my face, lush greenery outside and an assortment of mountains, hills and valleys, topped with lovely grey clouds.

Picture Diary:

Along the long-winding road, the bus stopped suddenly, and we were told this is Malshej Ghat.

It seemed to be smack in the centre of a mountain, with nothing nearby at all. Just one small road leading away from the main road.

When we looked ahead, we saw that about half a kilometer down the small road was the hotel, sitting pretty on a plateau jutting out of the mountain. And it was surrounded by valleys, mountains and clouds. Niiice!

We walked towards the hotel, checked into the dorm we had booked, and went to the canteen for lunch. That's when we got our second surprise. The extremely cool weather at Malshej was balanced by the gut-ripping, throat-splitting, tongue-burning pungent food. One morsel and I was metaphorically jumping into some waterfall for relief. The fruits we had bought were now a boon.

We set off to try and discover some waterfalls. We walked about 2 kms one way, reached nothing useful and then walked back and then in the other direction for about a km. A waterfall on the road was spotted and not left alone.

In the evening we would sit on the porch outside the canteen, sipping on hot chai, feeling the mist on our faces and just peering through the clouds that were now actually just a hand away from us.

Picture Diary:

The MTDC hotel has a viewpoint, a concave section from where we could have a pan view of the valley. There were a few more surprises here.

The mountain peaks resembled smoke machines. Clouds were being spun quickly and they hushed away towards other parts of the world. It just seemed like the mountains kept churning out the fluffy grey masses out of nowhere.

Next we saw something called a Water Rise. In simple words, thats a waterfall turned upside down. Due to the wind and water pressure, the water instead of falling to the ground, defies gravity and rises upwards. At times, we even saw some waterfalls entirely and directly forming clouds instantly. It reminded me of the cotton candy machine spinning the sugary sweet.

We would find the clear times in the day and roam about. From the viewpoint we decided to do a blind trek. Walking around the mountains, making jokes about this being the new Mc Donalds outlet location, we reached a convex. If you could fly, it was not very far from the viewpoint. It looked onto the same scenery, but the difference was obvious. Everything was wide angle now. And no matter where I turned, my mouth was left open.

We sat there till the clouds came, and then ran back through a shortcut we discovered. Of course, we returned the next day.

Apparently Malshej is quite the hotspot of various insects, birds and other such living beings. Flamingos too appear during the monsoons but due to the global warming, the change in seasons, they were late this year. My friends kept spotting weird blue and green insects, while I tried my best to avoid anything that moved. Mountains - good. Water - good. Treks - brilliant. Snakes - RUN!

We avoided the spicy food and went to a hotel about 3 kms away - Sushant Resort. Bad place to stay, decent to eat. Really small cramped rooms, and hardly any view.

The best part about Malshej is that it does not have many places to go. Unlike present day Lonavla, it is quiet, secluded, and lovely too. Perfect for a little escapade. It is best in the monsoons, and it's better to travel to and fro before dark, as the roads can get quite scary. Most rentals even refuse to ply after dark. The ST bus too is not bad and is quite frequent from Kalyan Stn Depot.

If you wish to explore, there is the Shivneri Fort, about 30 kms from Malshej. Along the way, about 5 kms from the hotel is a dam too. But I say, the place itself is enough!

Before we knew it, we had to leave the dreamy place and were jolted back to town. Literally! But our minds stayed there for long.

IMPORTANT INFO

HOW TO GET THERE:
Nearest airport is Mumbai at 154-km.
Nearest railway station is Kalyan. Buses or rentals from there available.
By road, Mumbai to Malshej Ghat, via Murbad is 154-km, Pune to Malshej Ghat via Alephata, is 164-km and from Alephata to Malshej Ghat it is 39-kms.

The best place to stay is the MTDC Resort. The dorms are strictly ok, and best if you are in a large group, as they have common loo facilities and not much else. The rooms available for two and four people are pretty nice and worth it, at a reasonable rate too.

Check-Out time: 12 noon

Things to carry: Some instant food like fruits, maggi etc, water for the way, warm clothing, rain wear if you are travelling in the monsoons (DO NOT carry an umbrella, it won't survive), shoes or floaters (flip-flops will make you slip) and a camera.

Best time to visit: June to September. Avoid road travel after dark.

Places to see:
Viewpoint at hotel
Dam 5 kms
Shivneri Fort 30 kms

Digit-all!

2010-02-18T20:23:00.002+05:30

So well it all started off with some buzz about the world going 'digital' last year, and since then it seems like nothing can stop it. There came the influx of Facebooking and Twittering. Even clients slowly began to add 'online' in their list of deliverables. We had a 'talk' on digital as the way forward in office. And Shahrukh too started twittering. The Idea ad promoted phones to paper and iPad came along, and was talked about in the digital medium. I saw some amazing websites and then heard the talk by Pranav Mistry on Sixth Sense. And we had the 'pool in ideas' activity in office, this time on the digital medium. I too sit on the comp all day, type lines, write a blog, browse websites, create a bookshelf on Shelfari, read ebooks, etc, etc.

In all this, there is one more thing I realised. I MISS PAPER. I know it is all saving trees and all, but not like digital doesn't use any energy. I miss the feel of paper, i miss the fountain pens that feel so good to write with. Ebooks have come in, but I love the smell of fresh books and adding a new one to my physical shelf always makes me grin with glee. I still think I can write best when I am writing on paper. That is why I have a paper Thesaurus on my desk right beside my comp that has the digital one bookmarked. That is why I have pen holders that hold just that. That is why I always carry a pen and notepad in my bag.

'Cos I still think paper is irreplaceable.

Uff!

2010-02-10T18:31:00.006+05:30

It's tough to plan things. Mostly because when I plan, somehow it has to be jinxed. Plan a movie, no tickets. Plan meeting friends, they suddenly get busy. Plan to leave early, hey, there are artworks to be signed. There was a point when I had decided that I won't plan anymore and just go along with ad hoc decisions when they come up.

But that can't stick of course, cos that too is a plan. So plan I had to. This time it was planning W's bday. Madness describes it a little. Confusion completes what's left.

To start off, I needed a plan (obviously!). It had to be something possible since working days and Mumbai's far-away places make sure nothing can ever happen on time. So then I stuck to the old trick of 24 gifts for the 24th bday. There plan's settled. Now starts the trouble.

It's stupid to pile a bag with all 24 gifts in front of his face, all at once. If the plan was to be executed, it had to reach him in installments. But how? Only 4 days left. So Haem calls his 4 best friends and ropes them in. They can get some gifts, I get some and then I add in some little stuff to add to 24. Done.

Wrong.

I had to figure out what gifts, so that nothing is repeated. I had to number gifts so that we reach the figure. I had to tell people to courier some gifts to his office and then get his house address and use that as the sender's address so that he doesn't find out. Some I had bought earlier just like that. I had to rush out during office hours to shop for the rest of the gifts and then get late to office cos I had to shop for the little add-ons. And the having enough cash for everything part also.(I am still an underpaid writer. Anyone wish to offer me a freelance job? :P)

And then there was the job of planting some gifts at his home. So then I fixed a plan with his friend where I call him out and she goes and gives the bag to his mother (yes, she was in it too). But that didn't happen. So I had to call him out. And hide behind a tree while he exited his building (yes yes I did that!). And run up the stairs. And hand the bag to his mother and run back down. And ask him to stand at a spot where he can't spot me coming out of his building. And run back out to meet him. And of course avoid questions about being late, being tired, being secretive, etc etc.

Phew!

All over? Nope. There was also the calling a friend at his office to ask him to arrange for a bouquet and place it at his desk, without him knowing it. (Thank you Pathare!) There was the numbering of all presents and co-ordinating with the friends who were also adding to the 24, and then making sure it reaches 24.

Finally, it was over. Did something go wrong. Yes, a little. Can't do without that. But then, the main objective was fulfilled - of making him happy, surprised and giving him a birthday to remember. He was delighted today. And that's all I wanted.

Happy Birthday W.

Mamma, I'm on TV!

2010-02-05T18:54:00.000+05:30

Was watching parts of Rahul Mahajan's swayamvar yesterday (can't get myself to sit through one whole episode. Need to switch channels at intervals to retain sanity).

And that got me wondering. People really wanna parade themselves on television? Many shows like that and the advent of reality Tv has often got me to think that. Why exactly would someone wanna showcase their stupidity to the world and make a fool of themselves? I never understood.

These women know they are being filmed. They also would know that every wrong thing would definitely be made worse and shown, and the right things would probably get edited. They know that such a marriage lasting is a far fetch (or so I think). So why?

Watch the people on the singing and dancing reality shows, watch the delighted souls jumping around in random shows and you will understand what I am saying. Is the pleasure of being on Television really worth that? I don't know. What do you think?

What's next?

2010-01-28T21:57:00.001+05:30

THIS is absolutely, totally, mouth-opening, jaw-dropping brilliant.

Make laws, make rules, create memory loss

2009-12-30T13:34:00.002+05:30

All around me, when I see someone littering, or spitting, I hear some convent-educated, well-fed voice go "You know, they should make a law against this. And fine all those who do it. Like in Singapore" (or London or any other phoren countries). Someone else goes, "Laws won't make a difference, we should create awareness." And I think, will ANYTHING work? For what has to change primarily is mindset. People have to get conditioned to think differently. And to tell someone, 'Hey whatever shit you are thinking, you are wrong' is not easy. More so, to get someone to believe you without punching you in the face.

Most people would get angry at being questioned. Humans as we know are conditioned as a species to live with the thought that they are the most superior beings. Now they apply this theory to compare themselves to other humans too is just a natural outcome or side-effect. So telling them that what you are thinking is just retarded, old fashioned and simply stupid will just get you a red nose and a black eye, maybe some abuses.

So, as it turns out, I know many people who belong to that 'I am always right' category. And well, I have tried, and tried. "You know, bell bottoms are seriously out of fashion". "Mushrooms ARE vegetarian". "Drinking milk does NOT cure all diseases." and more serious topics too.

Just like them, we have those all over the world. Take for instance the perennial Mumbai local ladies compartment traveller who thinks - So what if I stamped on your foot, you are no one to scream. Or the rickwala who has a sticker saying 'Spitting spreads TB' on the back of his rickshaw and some red liquid in his mouth. And then there are the elderly who will be all gung ho for secularism but throw a fit if anyone in their family decides to tie the knot with someone outside their religion. Blasphemy!

So, what can we do then? I think there is no option. Laws and rules will be their, maybe be enforced but no one will be willing to follow them. You can't change thinking. But of course you CAN create memory loss *evil glint in eye*.

Comic book villains, where art thou?

Dilbert: It's relevant

2009-12-28T13:09:00.003+05:30

The spirit

2009-12-26T14:15:00.000+05:30

I like festivals. But as much as they have a religios relevance, I don't like that. I like festivals independent of religion, custom and rituals.

I believe every festival has a soul to it. It has an individuality and a personality, just like you and me. And that is what I like about each festival. Holi for example, is colourful and loud and gets easily drunk- carefree and oblivious to the world around. The kite festival on the other hand prefers to speak very little, and yet makes its presence felt through the burst of colours dotting the sky. Diwali for me, is loud, garish, fun-loving and exuberant. It is that nice, sweet aunty next door who loves flowers in her hair, and always makes good food for you.

Christmas. I love the Christmas personality- the Christmas spirit. For me, it is like this tiny fairy with transparent wings and tinkling anklets who goes around sprinkling magic dust on everyone. Yes, quite fantastic, but well, I actually feel that on Christmas. As much as it is a religious festival, for me it has hardly any religious significance. I just the love the way everything looks, the way people behave and all the cultural modes and symbols floating around that time of the year. The icy cool nip in the air, the red and green and white fluttering all around, the white lights twinkling like stars from every house. And cakes, and carols. It's just rhythmic, a festival of music and merriness. Everything in Christmas has a musical quality in it. From the Ho, ho, ho's, to the bells in your window, to the 'Merry Christmas' greetings.

I like Christmas. And what I like is I don't have to be Catholic to like it. I don't have to go to church to celebrate it. I can still put up a tree and decorate it. I can still walk around with a Santa hat and exchange presents. And it still makes me feel as much a part of it as anyone else. All I have to do to feel what they call the Christmas spirit is walk around and look at the simple decorations on people's windows- not the store or mall or street decorations, but the home ones.

And I can feel myself dancing to the rhythm of the festival.

Anjaana raasta

2009-12-18T20:18:00.006+05:30

I just had this sudden urge of writing in Hindi. So I began:

Galiyon ki mehek mein huye aise mashroof

Ke sadakon ka pata hum bhool gaye,

Fiza ki madhoshi mein kho hi gaye,

ke lamhon ka pata bhi bhool gaye.

Saundhi mitti ki khushboo bichi,

Aankhen moond hum kheeche chale,

Oas ki boondon se baatein karein,

Hariyali ki chadar par daude chale.

Patli si sadak bhi chhut gayi,

Khushi khushi hum gum hi gaye,

Neeli chadar odh, hare bichawan par,

Thake tab do saans late gaye.

Raat ki surrati hawa suni,

Mausam jaise dharti se kare baatein,

Meethi yeh boli mein aise khoye,

Ghar wapas kaun jaana chaahe.

My critic avatar

2009-12-18T17:01:00.005+05:30

I saw Avatar recently, and I came out with mixed reactions. The much awaited movie was both much more and much less than what I expected. And I realised, I mostly had one line reactions to it:

- Effects 10 yrs ahead of their time, and a story 10 yrs behind its time gives a movie that lies in the present.

- Before I could say How, all I could say was Wow!

- The movie lover in me was stunned by the level of filmmaking. The critic in me cried out for some story at least.

- This movie defines our present state: Humans are the villains, we sympathize more with aliens than with our planet, we are always out to take what is not ours, destruction is just a daily norm and heroes or miracles are just fantastical.

- Sci-fi is just human stories and love tales told through blue or green bodies.

- Filmmakers take ten years to make a movie that shows trees falling down and nature being destroyed through special effects, and the world beats them at doing so in real time.

I will keep adding to the list as and when I come up with more. And you are welcome to add on.

P.S: A friend who accompanied me claimed that the aliens were copies from our Lord Krishna who was also blue skinned, and the name Avatar proves it. This is her theory. What's yours?

Perception

2009-12-02T20:02:00.007+05:30

I fly by

past my dreams

oblivious to the shooting stars

as I stare at the little boy

who carried a basket of laughter on his back,

I look at his 9 coloured rainbow

as he rubs his crayons on the sky,

and paints the trees blue

I find my dreams rushing back

I find them flavoured with dew

Looking at the stars for the first time

I make a wish.

Ganapatipule

2009-11-24T16:56:00.011+05:30

Set along the Konkan belt is a little village called Ganapatipule.

It's an hour's drive from Ratnagiri. When you set off from the dirty, messy streets of Ratnagiri, you will definitely not expect what you get when you are half way through.

But before you set off, make a trip to the Ratnagiri fort. It is best to make the trip early in the morning (that is when our train arrived), because then the heat gets so annoying, you won't be able to enjoy the sights. The fort is quite boring in itself, but it is the view that is striking. The blue clear sea down below, and the mountains in the distance- breathtaking. Sit in one of the 'windows' and lose yourself in the beauty of your surrounding.

Then begins the hour long journey to Ganapatipule. The sights begin when you are driving through the mountain roads. It is a wall of mud and rock on one side and hold your breath- almost virgin beaches with blue waters on the other. The greenery around, the peaceful atmosphere and looking down on the white sand and blue water, you won't believe you are just h

alf an hour away from a totally different civilization.

Reach Ganapatipule and you have every house turned into a lodge. Not that there are way too many houses at that. You have little restaurants serving thalis and little else, and some of the more 'grand' ones that serve 'Panjabi' cuisine too. The roads are hardly cemented except in a few places, and you will like walking below the trees on the mud path to the beach. This walk in itself is quite pleasing and the instant you start, you know you are in another dimension altogether. Away from your daily rigmarole.

The beach is a haven in itself. Clear blue waters and almost white sands, unpolluted by plastic and other human remnants. If not for the Coconut water shacks lining it, or a few bunches of pilgrims on one corner of the beach near the temple, it would resemble the virgin beaches that were spotted all along our journey.

Sitting in the water all day baking in the sun and frolicking among the waves, we just didn't realise how fast the time passed. There could have been so much more we could have done like cycling down the roads or hiking a little to nearby places, discovering new beaches - but all we

did was turn into water buffaloes. But that too was great fun!

Back to the place... There is also the Ganapati temple. Not quite small, it is better to visit the temple either early during the day or about an hour before sunset. It has a hillock which is holy and you can walk around it. That is a holy Hindu ritual called Parikrama. It't not the holy part that is good here, it is the scenery you encounter while walking around the hill. On one side is greenery and the other side holds a brilliant sea view. Even during the night, you may not be able to see the waters, but the pinch in the air and the chilly winds will make you feel wonderful.

After the walk, you can probably lounge on the sea, gazing that the endless number of stars. This view is impossible from a city. Whats more, you can even spot more than a few shooting stars. Watch the sky, peer into the darkness, feel the cool sand beneath you or breathe in the slightly salty, slightly chilly sea breeze. It will all feel therapeutic.

As for food, I recommend the local thalis at least once. But if you can't digest Maharashtrian food, or coconut in your preparations, there is a garden restaurant which serves almost everything. There is also the MTDC restaurant which I personally did not have the stomach for. Though the MTDC rooms are splendid if you have the budget. They command a great view of the beach.

All in all, Ganapatipule is one of those escapades that you go to when you have a nice long

weekend, and don't want to tire yourself out. Sit, chill, sunbathe (or burn like I did). But remember, if you want beer, you may have to get your own from somewhere. 'Cos this Ashtavinayak-temple-housing-village mostly doesn't have any.

Here's a picture log of my Ganapatipule trip, beginning from Ratnagiri station.

Kahaani

2009-11-08T19:54:00.005+05:30

Sirhane padi thi ek palak

Ho gayi woh pawan ke hawale

Jhonke sang jhoomi, na hosh ka pata

Poochti khud se, kaun hoon main?

Ek choti si harkat,

ek lamha bana kahaani,

par alfaazon se bandh na paaya woh,

ek itihaas jiski rachna hai bas mann mein hi.

The hippie at heart

2009-10-08T14:37:00.002+05:30

I strongly believe I was born at the wrong time. No, I wasn't born way ahead of my time, I was born way after it actually.

I think I belong to the 70's. Really.

The hippie age. The flowers, the madness, the free spirit, the loud junkies - it's all there in me. I love to dress like a hippie. I am as eccentric as one (or so I have been told). I refuse to bow down to rules like one, and I love randomness. It just seems right to have been born in that age. Yeh ok, I don't like their haircuts, but then again, if I were born then, I would have liked it.

And to top it all off, all the ideas I have for ads come back to me with 'This has already been done and it won ____ and _____'. So my ideas also belong back then!

At least if I were born in the 70's, it would be less of hearing 'This has been done before'. :D

Movies take from life, Life takes from movies

2009-10-02T16:57:00.001+05:30

Since the inception of cinema, filmmakers have always been fascinated with one concept- love. They can never get tired of courting and romance, undying and unconditional love and victory of love over evil. Romance is this Yash Chopra's tulip field and walking in the moonlight, and life always gets the scope of 'happily ever after' only after you find the 'one'.

Utopia!

This utopia had been built from human minds, probably from experiences, expectations, imaginations. Slight exaggerations initially, and then the butterfly

effect- masala upon masala upon spicy dreamy masala. Movies took from life and put them up on the larger than life screen to share it with more lives.

And it all began right then. In the 50's. When movies began to show lives and how they should be.

Since then, romance remains the walk in the moonlight, stealing glances at each other, chasing each other playfully and what not. In people's minds, and expectations.

And now, the wheel has turned. Now movies define life. You look at Shahrukh or Salman or Richard Gere or James Marsden (27 dresses, my fav :D ) figuring out new ways to impress the girl and you want that to happen to you. You see them running around New York or Bombay with flowers and you dream of the same, and get disappointed if that doesn't happen.

I have seen many girls (and guys too) follow movies and live in utopia. I have seen the signs of the movies followed by the disappointment of real life.

That is when a question arose in my mind. As happy as the movies make us, if they make us hate our life, are they actually worth it?

Etiquettes at theatres and theatres

2009-09-07T19:23:00.004+05:30

Theatre- technically it means that magical place where a bunch of individuals enact a story right before to take you to another world. Colloquially, it is the magical place where a story with song and dance is weaved and recorded and played to you again and again and again.

And I have encountered both these last week, with varied experiences.

At the Prithvi theatre, I went to watch Confessions- a play about stories, murders, abuse, psychology and a lot more disturbing things. Long as the play was (2 and a half hrs!), it never felt that long. But the best part was in the second half, when there was a sudden power cut. The entire place was enveloped in darkness and it was utter silence. I can actually imagine the panic that the actors must have felt. And then as we are wondering, out of the black we hear the voice of one of the actors addressing the other 'Do you want me to continue? This may take a while. It happens here often.' And the play continued.

For a moment there, I thought this must be a part of the play. But then I saw many members of the audience switch on their phones and use that light to illuminate the stage. It was some sight as the play went on. And for once, none of the cast members would o a shoe at the audience for switching on their mobile phones.

The other theatre was a movie hall where I went to watch Quick Gun Murugan. No, I am not posting a review of the movie. If you want one, ask me and I will send you one individually.

When you go to a movie hall, the security checks make sure everything is in order, and well scanned. But they miss out one crucial thing- your feet.

No no, I am not talking about whether you have smuggled bombs and popcorn inside. I was nicely watching the movie, and suddenly I smell something wierd. Funny, I think. I assumed they cleant the movie halls regularly. It must be the guy next to me. Thinking so, I tilt a little in the opposite direction.

The stink though remains. That is when I realise, Dude... its not the person next to me, its the one BEHIND me. Yes, his/her feet were stinking. And in a movie hall, with the seating on steps, you can't even escape. I don't know how accepting it is to just get up and point out to a person that their feet stinks and would they please keep it to themselves, but I had half a mind to do so. They were distracting me from the bullets cutting into two and the yellow-orange-green-pink cowboy outfit of Murugan!

But unfortunately I never got to find out how the person would react to being told his feet stinks, as my friend, for fear of being embarassed by a wincing nosed me, dragged me away to another seat.

Well, that was one etiquette broken and one desperately needed to be followed at a theatre and a theatre.

I am a complex pigment

2009-09-01T17:46:00.008+05:30

It's time for some narcissism! For all those who keep asking me what my name means, well, I decided- lets ask Google for its version.

HAEM

A complex red organic pigment containing iron and other atoms to which oxygen binds.

1. (Science: biochemistry) compounds of iron complexed in a porphyrin (tetrapyrrole) ring that differ in side chain composition. Haems are the prosthetic groups of cytochromes and are found in most oxygen carrier proteins.

2. (Science: prefix) haem-, eaning relating to blood.

Origin: g. Haima a ring like structure found in haemoglobin giving it its characteristic red colour.

With random definitions like these, no wonder I love my name!

P.S.: That is not the meaning my Momma told me :)

Books and more books

2009-08-17T13:52:00.002+05:30

What with inflation and all, as much as I would like to, I cannot buy books instead of dal and rice. So, in times like this, where the barely-there-salary goes into other things, I resort to free e-books for my mental hunger. And I thought I must share with you two sites that I absolutely love:

1. http://www.truly-free.org/
This one allows you to download about 5 books every 2 weeks and has the most amazing collection.

2. http://www.readprint.com/
Here, you can read all the good stuff online.

There is also http://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/, but it is a little tedious.

So, while I sit back and have my fill, now you do that too.

In a hurry

2009-08-14T11:30:00.003+05:30

I always seem to be in a hurry for everything. I just can't wait.

I was in a hurry to be born and came a month early. I started talking really really early, cos I couldn't wait to explore speech.

I was made to start school earlier than the rest, the result being I have always been a year younger than almost everyone in my class.

And this impatience has followed me everywhere.

It has resulted in a constant need to stay busy. And mind you, not with the same thing. The impatience has also brought with it quick boredom as a package deal, which means that I need to keep doing many things- constantly. I need to drown myself in a surge of activities.

As much as I crave for free time, the moment I get it, I start looking for something to do. Activity just makes me happy.

The impatience also shows itself with people. Have you ever gotten bored with people? I do. Regularly. In a way, maybe it is like a 2 year old, whose attention span is limited to a mere few seconds. In order to sustain the attention, something really interesting has to come up.

This is also the reason why I keep inventing excitement for myself. I turn even the smallest thing into something to look forward to in my head, and that preoccupies me. I try and extract meanings out of nothing, just so that I have something to be enthusiastic about.

Is that good? Maybe not. But sometimes yes. At least, my adrenalin continues to rush at the pace I want it to, even if it is due to something not entirely factual.

The point of this post? I don't know. I needed something to do.

2009-08-13T15:40:00.003+05:30

Here is an old ad i found on Flickr, and i really had to post it:

A strange kind of immunity

2009-08-12T16:52:00.005+05:30

I just attended a funeral today. Of someone quite close to me. And that had me think about death.

Well, you know how our body becomes immune to many things with the course of time? I realised I have become immune to crying at funerals. I may shed a silent tear, but just a drop. I cannot sob, wail or express any sort of emotion on the outside. It is a straight face that walks about handling responsibilities, chores, calming people and taking care that nothing else goes wrong.

How? I guess it is the fact that I have seen way too many deaths when I was young. Being the eldest in the family, I was close to even the distant relatives. And be it my granduncles, by great-grandmother, my grandmother and grandfather and eventually my own father - it was a surge of deaths before I was even 12. At my father's death the immunity took over. I haven't cried at a funeral since.

I have seen some acquaintances and some close friends pass away. Still no tears. It pulled at my heart, but it was dry sorrow.

There is another thing I cannot do. I cannot touch a dead body. I just can't go too close to it. It's not like I am afraid, neither am I overcome by grief. I just can't. The feet do freak me out, frozen and pale. But something else in me, I don't know what, keeps me away, like an invisible shield. Who knows?

And somehow I prefer it. I prefer not publicly showing your sorrow, not wailing out loud in front of people. I always have. It just attracts unnecessary sympathy, it just makes you the centre of attention.

Isn't it better to just let your grief phase out on its own? To let your mind understand the sorrow and learn to deal with it? If it is sorrow due to death, I believe it's a silent and more strong respect to the one who is no more. And if it is any other reason, it just keeps your life where it should stay- with you.

I just walk past reality sometimes

2009-08-11T13:56:00.003+05:30

I am currently reading a magical realist novel. I recently watched an absurdist play that was all about the blending of that fine line between what is real and imagined. And I am forever confused on whether I am real or just an alter ego of some other more 'real' self. (Yes, this does happen when I am entirely sober)

It's strange but I have this habit of suddenly switching off. Literally. I switch off when I am just sitting down, or writing, or walking on the road, or even during conversations. I just stare blankly somewhere, and then its random thoughts bobbing in my head, popping in and out.

There are times when I have wondered how objects got names. Like why did a car get named car. I mean, the word 'kaa-aar' sounds more like a bird. Some little bird who flies really high and swoops down suddenly. 'Hey, a car just flew past and shat on my shoulder!' Now that sounds right doesn't it?

It is very much like a macho guy named Pinky or something. Someone else had a strange epiphany and gave him the name, that now is stuck.

At other times, I have imaginary conversations. I invent situations, and then invent reactions, and my reactions to those reactions. What is the point of this you ask? Really?

Then there are times when the illusions just invade concrete, tangible reality. Reality that could break a few bones (or probably it did). I am walking, or suffering another mode of transport, and everything seems to become hazy. Remember those dreamy, blurred effects in Bollywood movies? Yes, exactly those, sans the foreign locales, expensive clothes, background score and silly dances.

So, coming back to the point. The not-so-picturesque scene becomes blurred, and it seems like everything is moving at a slow pace. It seems like nothing around is real. And that I am just experiencing some time-space warp. Maybe with a click of my fingers, I will reach a nice beach, basking in some pleasant sun with a cool drink in my hands. The poisonous fumes of the bus next to me at the signal detoxify my vision.

I wonder. Is this life really the life we are living? Is it just one monotonous, routine-plagued alter ego of something else? Or is this real and is the lucky alter ego busy having its fun? What harm can a little talking-to-yourself-dreaming-on-the-road do? It's just like adding some dream sequences to the movie of your life. After all, you are the filmmaker and the leading lady, right?

Blast from the past

2009-07-09T18:23:00.003+05:30

I love the rains. On most occasions. But after being deported to Andheri east for work, my romanticised 'South Bombay' picture of the rains has been washed away. Literally and otherwise. My love for puddles has been replaced violently by a desperate search for dry ground. The immunity of the city has been so badly attacked, it seems that soon the island city will be an 'underground island city'.

And as I reminisce of how I usually felt very poetic during the rains, I am left thinking of how poetry would be in this scenario. Imagine if Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Byron and Shelley, with all their creative and poetic juices intact, were born in Bombay - the present.

An example of a Shakespearean sonnet 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day', as I see it now:

Shall I compare thee to a rainy day?
Thou art more dirty, making me asphyxiate:
Rough winds do shake the umbrellas we take,
And smoke and grease hath leave me no breath:
.... (and i skip to the last 2 lines)
No longer men can breathe or eyes can see,
No long lives left, only choking, suffering and misery.

Maybe, the cynical Eliot would be more fit in these times. His Waste Land is quite apt, with some minor 'tweaking', as we say here in Ad Land:

July is the cruellest month, breeding
Instects out of the dead land, mixing
Smoke with gutter, stirring
Dull roads with acid rain.

Public opinion - once in 5 yrs?

2009-05-25T12:56:00.002+05:30

As we are fresh from elections, again I turn to the same topic. Here is an interesting bit I found from an article by Noam Chomsky. Chomsky is known for his propaganda theories and plays the cynic quite a few times. That can be good at times as it makes us think about the world we are in, and whether do we actually follow our own mind? Read on...

Can a Democrat change US Middle East policy?

Noam Chomsky

Khaleej Times, April 3, 2008

Recently, when Vice-President Cheney was asked by ABC News correspondent Martha Raddatz about polls showing that an overwhelming majority of US citizens oppose the war in Iraq, he replied, "So?"

"So -- you don't care what the American people think?" Raddatz asked.

"No," Cheney replied, and explained, "I think you cannot be blown off course by the fluctuations in public opinion polls."

Later, White House spokeswoman Dana Perino, explaining Cheney's comments, was asked whether the public should have "input."

Her reply: "You had your input. The American people have input every four years, and that's the way our system is set up."

That's correct. Every four years the American people can choose between candidates whose views they reject, and then they should shut up.

Evidently failing to understand democratic theory, the public strongly disagrees.

"Eighty-one per cent say when making 'an important decision' government leaders 'should pay attention to public opinion polls because this will help them get a sense of the public's views,"' reports the Program on International Policy Attitudes, in Washington.

And when asked "whether they think that 'elections are the only time when the views of the people should have influence, or that also between elections leaders should consider the views of the people as they make decisions,' an extraordinary 94 per cent say that government leaders should pay attention to the views of the public between elections."

The same polls reveal that the public has few illusions about how their wishes are heeded: 80 per cent "say that this country is run by a few big interests looking out for themselves," not "for the benefit of all the people."

So I ask, do OUR opinions count? More importantly, how many times do we care to voice it?

The other side of our democarcy

2009-05-25T11:16:00.003+05:30

As the election hangover now settles and blurred visions finally get clear, here is something I recently read this article which quite jerked me out of my dream too. I got thrown back into reality as it is.

TWO SIDES TO DEMOCRACY
The demolition of a Gandhian ashram in Chhattisgarh: Politics and Play
- Ramachandra Guha

In the early hours of May 17, while the rest of India was asleep after an election conducted honestly and won fairly, a massive contingent of police and paramilitary descended on a Gandhian ashram in the interior of Chhattisgarh. They woke up the sleeping social workers, and gave them exactly one hour to pack their belongings. The Gandhians were then escorted outside the ashram that had been their home, thus making way for the bulldozers that had been sent to demolish it. The machines were supervised by some 500 men in uniform, variously owing allegiance to the Central Reserve Police Force and the Chhattisgarh state police. Over the course of that Sunday, as the rest of India was considering the consequences of the election just held, the Vanvasi Chetna Ashram in Dantewada was razed to the ground. The office, the training hall, the staff quarters, even the tubewells — nothing was spared.

In the summer of 2006, I had myself eaten several meals in that ashram in Dantewada. Its founder, Himanshu, is a sharp-eyed, well-built, and forever smiling man in his late forties. Originally from Meerut, he was inspired by Vinoba Bhave and Nirmala Deshpande to devote his life to the adivasis of central India. In 1992, he moved with his wife to Dantewada to fulfil his calling. He recruited a group of local boys and girls, and with their assistance worked on bringing education and healthcare to the adivasis.

By the time I visited the Vanvasi Chetna Ashram, it had established a solid presence in the district. Its campus lay in the little village of Kanwalnar, about 10 miles from Dantewada town. Ringed by mango trees, the ashram contained a set of low, modest buildings where the members lived. From this home in the forest they ventured out into the surrounding countryside, to work among the Gonds and Koyas and Murias of the district.

The activities of the Vanvasi Chetna Ashram would be reckoned by most people in most times to be uncontroversial. But these are dangerous times in Dantewada, with a civil war raging between Maoist revolutionaries and a vigilante group promoted by the state administration and known as Salwa Judum. In this war, the tribals are caught in-between — so are Gandhian social workers. No one living in the district of Dantewada is now allowed to be neutral, to condemn even-handedly the barbaric acts of the Naxalites as well as the barbaric acts of the Salwa Judum.

As a consequence of the civil war, more than 50,000 tribals in Dantewada have been uprooted from their homes. Some left voluntarily; while many others were forcibly displaced by the Salwa Judum or by the Maoists. These refugees live in camps strung along the main road, in leaking and unstable tents, and without proper access to food, water, and means of employment. Many victims of the civil war fled across the border to Andhra Pradesh, where they live in equally pathetic conditions.

After months of living in this way, some tribals asked that they be allowed to return to their villages, so that they could live in their own homes, and close to their lands and their livestock. While the state wanted them to stay on in the camps, the villagers were encouraged to go back by the Vanvasi Chetna Ashram. Thus Himanshu and his co-workers set about rehabilitating those adivasis who wished to have no more of life in the camps.

The pretext behind the demolition of the Vanvasi Chetna Ashram is that the campus has ‘encroached’ on government forest land. The Gandhians, on the other hand, insist that they built on revenue land acquired legally and with permission from the local panchayat. The case is currently being heard in the local courts. Rather than await the court’s verdict, the district authorities uniliaterally chose to demolish the ashram, in what is very clearly an act of vindictive retaliation against the refusal by these Gandhians to wholly condone the support to the Salwa Judum of the Chhattisgarh state government.

As it happened, four students from the Indian Institute of Science in Bangalore were visiting Dantewada on the weekend of 16/17 May. They were thus eye-witnesses to the ashram’s demolition. One scholar I spoke to said that the sub-divisional magistrate directing the operations, Ankit Anand, was particularly belligerent. When a student weakly protested, Anand commanded the police to have him silenced. The boy was taken away, beaten up, and asked to confess that the good Gandhian Himanshu was (a) an agent of the Naxalites; and (b) running a prostitution racket.

It was surely not an accident that the state of Chhattisgarh chose the very weekend that the election results were being declared to carry out this savage act of retribution. Who, at a time like this, would care about a violation of democracy in a remote and inaccessible corner of the country while the world was celebrating the victory of democracy in India as a whole? For this writer, the juxtaposition of these two events was powerfully symbolic. For I have long argued that India is a ‘50-50’ democracy. In the formal, institutional sense of holding fair elections contested by many parties, allowing freedom of movement for its citizens, and nurturing a free press, India is indeed democratic. But in other respects, it falls short of the democratic ideal. Kin and caste play far too important a part in politics and governance. Levels of corruption among politicians and officials are unacceptably high. The autonomy of the judiciary is somewhat compromised. The use of force by the State is often capricious and arbitrary.

Even in safe and (mostly) peaceable places like my hometown, Bangalore, one can occasionally encounter the dark side of Indian democracy — as in tax officials who take bribes, or politicians who fill in common waterbodies and sell them to private builders. But it is in the conflict zones of Kashmir, the Northeast, and central India, that the State shows itself at its most unappealing. To be sure, there are extenuating circumstances, such as separatist movements and revolutionary struggles. But to explain is not to apologize. One must condemn the violence used by the Naxalites and by the Kashmiri insurgents. One must yet insist that the Indian State, our State, be held to a higher order of morality and accountability.

Over the past few years, the government of Chhattisgarh has had a particularly undistinguished record in this respect. The burning of adivasi villages under the government-sponsored Salwa Judum has been documented in a series of independent reports. Then there is the unconscionable incarceration without bail of the respected social worker and doctor, Binayak Sen, on the very flimsy charge of carrying a letter from one Naxalite to another. Now comes this savage act of retribution against a group of law-abiding, peace-loving, and utterly non-violent Gandhians.

Supporters of the Chhattisgarh government deflect such criticism by pointing to the fact that the chief minister of the state has won a series of elections. But democracy does not begin and end with the counting of votes. Those elected to political office are sworn to uphold the rule of law, and to honour the ideals of the Indian Constitution. This holds true at the national as well as provincial levels. It applies equally to Congress-led governments as to Bharatiya Janata Party-led ones. So long as incidents such as the demolition of the Vanvasi Chetna Ashram occur and recur, India will not count as much more than a 50 per cent democracy.

Young is as young sees

2009-05-18T12:15:00.004+05:30

The youngest democracy in the country is now shedding its white hair. And boy am I glad! For the first time in 22 years, I am interested in politics. I am hooked onto news channels, and I am reading every single political section of every single newspaper I can get my hands on.

The action in Delhi has my heartbeat racing, and I can find myself with an opinion, a voice, for the first time. I am critiquing, I am supporting, I am turning into an active citizen.

What is it that has made me change my interests?

To say the truth, I don't know. I can tell you though what I did like.

A prospective young cabinet for this young democracy. The reigns of the country are in hands that yet plagued with arthritis, heart attack, etc etc.

A 38 year old scion of the royal family of Indian politics taking huge decisions, emerging victorious at them, travelling 87,000 kms in the Indian heat instead of TV advertisements to make himself known to the masses, being humble enough to say someone else should be PM, and being determined enough to insist on having his way with the redundant politicians...

Other young leaders supporting this spirit rather than turning it into a war against personal ambition. The likes of Jyotiraditya Scindia and Sachin Pilot supporting Rahul's initiative and bestowing full confidence.

The people of the country believing in this rather than sticking with parties that still promote religious fanaticism and engage in propaganda that divides the nation into tiny fragments. The people have finally begun to use a mind of their own rather than let the leaders think for them.

Maybe the country is going to witness a different era. Maybe I am just being too optimistic. There is definitely a flipside and I know about it. But what is different is that I simply don't feel like playing devil's advocate right now. I just feel elated at this change of things, and it makes me feel that we have hope now. I feel like casting my vote, cos now I feel that my vote does count... WILL count.

I feel empowered. More than ever.

How to identify the Gujritius homo sapiens (GHS)

2009-05-08T15:19:00.002+05:30

This certain species originated in the West Coast of India and belong to the Indo-Aryan race of homo sapiens. With the advent of globalisation and human export though, these creatures can now be found in every little remote country there is, including that little country stuck in between Egypt. There are a few sure shot ways of identifying this widely found species:

They are collective animals. They will always be found with almost their entire clan. If on a rare occasion you do chance upon a lone GHS, you will see him befriending (or scares) other clans and species aggressively.
Their vocal chords are differently developed to speak at louder tones. They are incapable of whispering, mumbling or muttering. Even at a distance of 5 feet, they will be found using their full vocal capabilities to beckon each other.
Not quite unlike cows, they have a primary need to keep chewing. Their food chambers are located outside their body through and they will always be found with some edible items on their person. While travelling, if you are out of food, you can rely on them to have some stored at all times.
They are characterised by a peculiar form of dance movement. They are sure to perform the same when you play music of any kind, as the clan gathers in a circle and dances around.
Their currency comprehension and value recognition capabilities are quite low. As a result, they have their personal judgement of a value of an item. You will always find them fighting to obtain the same at a lower price, and at most times, they exasperate the vendor enough to gain their way. Something obtained free of cost of course holds most value for them.
Although they travel in clans, they readily include anyone from the same species. In fact, they are always on the look out for fellow GHS, and will go all out to find one if there is.
Be wary of swallowing their food if you are allergic to sweetness. If you are not, you can identify a GHS in an instant by tasting simply a morsel. Their sugar consumption level far exceeds that of an average homo sapien.
A social event or a wedding is actually a meeting ground of potential matches, and you will find the elder of the species discussing prospective matches at all times. No young GHS can hope to be spared of this custom of inspection at any event.
If you spot meat, be sure not to find a GHS in that area. GHS are herbivores and avoid any meat consumption. But the younger of the species have begun adapting to meat eating patterns.
Lastly, even the most unlikely GHS will believe in exploitation of resources. They use the available resource to the optimum and then find a way to go even beyond it.

Statutory warning: If unprepared and unarmed, stay within escapable distance of a GHS.

the fight for survival will end

2009-05-01T15:15:00.000+05:30

The world is suffering from bombing, wars, terrorism, propaganda, insensitivity and swine flus.

But I recently chanced upon the worst of all these that is sure to bring the world to its ultimate doom.

The loss of innocence.

We had a still shoot in office for a certain ad. And models were being auditioned for the same. This is something told to me by a colleague.

A kid was being auditioned. And he was spoken to as we would with any four year old. He answers back as would a 16 year old! Talking about being a 'professional' and with no hint of the cute innocence that you crave for returning to after you grow up. What will these kids want to go back to once they grow up?

The world has started withering at birth. And the fight for survival has reached its peak. It's gone from killing of bodies to the killing of souls. The killing of living, and of enjoying life. Now I think the cycle will get over as the fight destroys it all and it begins from the beginning again.

I await the beginning of life. I await going back to being a single cell.

The premium on boyfriends and birthdays

2009-04-12T15:45:00.000+05:30

Well, I had my birthday recently, and actually I should be the last person saying this. But well, even the last person has a right to say :)

And I thought. Among all that hype and self-created excitement, among the Ooohs and Aaaahs and Oh cooooools, I thought - don't we place too much of importance on birthdays? And boyfriends?

I mean, yes we were born on this day. Celebrate, be vain, feel happy. But is it THAT important? As excited as I am, I always have this certain gloomy feeling on the day. This emerges from the fact that it is no different from any other day and I am disappointed. Maybe, for the kind of madness I expect, it turns out, this could be on any other day too. The sky doesn't turn purple, the trees don't start singing for me, and I don't end up having a million followers just for that day. It's as normal as normal can go.

And moving from birthdays to the other half of the title of this post - boyfriends.

Hey, i am totally in favour of them, i wouldn't mind one now and then either. Nor am I asking you to let go off yours. I am just noting down my observations. I may be guilty of the same, who knows...

With boyfriends, it seems like there is some compulsion. I see people go to no end to arrange a surprise for a one month old boyfriend and forget birthdays or anniversaries of childhood best friends. The irony - they break up the next month. So that sets me wondering, is the concentration of effort in one direction actually necessary? Is it so necessary to sweeten a relationship in this way in the beginning for it to last? Or is it like a colleague put it - 'because there is the possibility of sex involved'. Crude yes, but possible probabilities. Nothing wrong or right again, but it makes one wonder.

Another instance would be spending time. Family and friends are with you all your life. And sometimes when it comes to choosing who to spend your time with, you pick the new lover. Spare time can be left for the other people.

I may be opening a Pandora's box with this post here, and debates, comments, criticisms, pointing out my faults, everything is welcome. But one thing cannot be denied, there is definitely a premium.

The balance

2009-03-30T16:04:00.003+05:30

I was lying in bed yesterday, trying hard to fall asleep, when the play on lights on my ceiling lit up certain thoughts in my mind. It had been a tiring day, shopping and having some mad fun with friends. And then coming home to find my cousins and uncle there, waiting for me. Some family time followed. And when I later speculated, it seemed like two different worlds for me.

On one hand was my mad gang, English speaking, totally modern, always up to some craziness and with their own worldview that would be constantly discussed, debated and thrown on the table.

On the other hand was my typically Gujju family, thats no less when it comes to zest and fun and madness. But it is madness of a different kind. It's more constrained.

Both have warmth, but of a different kind.

And I realised somehow that was one of the better days of my life. A day that I enjoyed. And it was not bcos of any special thing I did, or anything different that happened. It was simply cos I managed to have 'balanced fun'. I experienced two different lives in one day, and I realised I need them both. Taking any one of them from me would leave me restless.

We all are on a constant quest for balance in life. On all fronts. We seek it in every sphere, and everything we do.

And I found a balance in that day. Correction: I found THE balance in that day.

Time-travel in a split second

2009-03-18T14:46:00.000+05:30

Sleep in your mother’s arms once again. Experience the first rain. Discover the secret cave behind your house. Feel the snow between your fingers.

Invent things that haven’t yet been invented. Or fly in a plane without leaving the ground. Lie among tulips as you watch the birds. Live on the moon for that little while.

Fast forward or rewind. Freeze time and play with it.

Jump back to that moment. Or create one you imagined.

Forget the world. Find the world.

Bring life into one moment… a moment of escape.

Life @ 10 km/hr

2009-03-16T14:45:00.002+05:30

Escape. To the little bylanes while zooming on a highway.
Choose the diversion, even when the road ahead is wide open. Take the sudden left turn down the mud-track. Steer away from long roads to travel at 10 km/hr. Discover your own road, and follow the scents and sounds.

Escape. To unknown places some afternoon.
Jump the fence, and reach strange yards. Climb a tree and look at the world down below. Fly a kite on the hill no one goes to. Lie down in the hay with your dog.

Escape. To find life in everything.
Compete with the wind to laugh out loud. Splash in the rain while on your way to work. Walk slowly and follow the snail. Smell the leaves and wave at the trees. Wink at the stars. Lie in the grass and stare at the sky.

Escape. To take a day off from time.
Forget your age and run in the park. Eat all you can. Leave a boat in the stream nearby. Find shapes in clouds of places far away. Watch the sky change colours through the day. Sing with the birds. Dance without reason.

Once in a while, walk slowly through life. Once in a while, escape the ordinary.

Don’t grow wings. Learn to fly without them.

2009-03-14T14:41:00.000+05:30

Sometimes, when a room feels stuffy, all you need to do is open the window.

Just like in life.

All you need to do is break free. Just like a little kid, trying to break free from his inabilities, to try and reach his favourite toy. Like a tree swaying with the wind, trying to break free from the ground.

Break the permanency of routine. And be the vagrant ray of light that winds its way through darkness. Be the whiff of scent that leaves its flowers to mingle with the air around.

Be the little drop of water that trickles down unknown roads to find its puddle. Be the moonlight that finds a way into the most reticent corners of earth. When you are the tired traveller in the heat, be your own valley of flowers.

When looking for an escape, don’t look around. Create one within you. Leave your mind blank for a moment, and let all thoughts escape you. Don’t go looking for the answers to life. Make up the most interesting answers yourself.

Close your eyes and reach your heart. Don’t run away to look for a haven. Find your paradise right where you are.

Let a moment of change enter every second. Let a smile escape when moods are sombre. Don’t wait for wings to sprout so you can fly. Escape to your paradise anyway.

What the bookshelf MUST have

2009-03-12T18:20:00.006+05:30

A must read for book lovers, and a checklist for 'Litters' like me - here are a few lists of the best books of all times.

This is a list by The Guardian. I find this list one of the better ones since it incorporates writers from all parts of the world. Quite a collection I personally would love to own:

Chinua Achebe, Nigeria, (b. 1930), Things Fall Apart
Hans Christian Andersen, Denmark, (1805-1875), Fairy Tales and Stories
Jane Austen, England, (1775-1817), Pride and Prejudice
Honore de Balzac, France, (1799-1850), Old Goriot
Samuel Beckett, Ireland, (1906-1989), Trilogy: Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnamable
Giovanni Boccaccio, Italy, (1313-1375), Decameron
Jorge Luis Borges, Argentina, (1899-1986), Collected Fictions
Emily Bronte, England, (1818-1848), Wuthering Heights
Albert Camus, France, (1913-1960), The Stranger
Paul Celan, Romania/France, (1920-1970), Poems.
Louis-Ferdinand Celine, France, (1894-1961), Journey to the End of the Night
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Spain, (1547-1616), Don Quixote
Geoffrey Chaucer, England, (1340-1400), Canterbury Tales
Anton P Chekhov, Russia, (1860-1904), Selected Stories
Joseph Conrad, England,(1857-1924), Nostromo
Dante Alighieri, Italy, (1265-1321), The Divine Comedy
Charles Dickens, England, (1812-1870), Great Expectations
Denis Diderot, France, (1713-1784), Jacques the Fatalist and His Master
Alfred Doblin, Germany, (1878-1957), Berlin Alexanderplatz
Fyodor M Dostoyevsky, Russia, (1821-1881), Crime and Punishment; The Idiot; The Possessed; The Brothers Karamazov
George Eliot, England, (1819-1880), Middlemarch
Ralph Ellison, United States, (1914-1994), Invisible Man
Euripides, Greece, (c 480-406 BC), Medea
William Faulkner, United States, (1897-1962), Absalom, Absalom; The Sound and the Fury
Gustave Flaubert, France, (1821-1880), Madame Bovary; A Sentimental Education
Federico Garcia Lorca, Spain, (1898-1936), Gypsy Ballads
Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Colombia, (b. 1928), One Hundred Years of Solitude; Love in the Time of Cholera
Gilgamesh, Mesopotamia (c 1800 BC).
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Germany, (1749-1832), Faust
Nikolai Gogol, Russia, (1809-1852), Dead Souls
Gunter Grass, Germany, (b.1927), The Tin Drum
Joao Guimaraes Rosa, Brazil, (1880-1967), The Devil to Pay in the Backlands
Knut Hamsun, Norway, (1859-1952), Hunger.
Ernest Hemingway, United States, (1899-1961), The Old Man and the Sea
Homer, Greece, (c 700 BC), The Iliad and The Odyssey
Henrik Ibsen, Norway (1828-1906), A Doll's House
The Book of Job, Israel. (600-400 BC).
James Joyce, Ireland, (1882-1941), Ulysses
Franz Kafka, Bohemia, (1883-1924), The Complete Stories; The Trial; The Castle Bohemia
Kalidasa, India, (c. 400), The Recognition of Sakuntala
Yasunari Kawabata, Japan, (1899-1972), The Sound of the Mountain
Nikos Kazantzakis, Greece, (1883-1957), Zorba the Greek
DH Lawrence, England, (1885-1930), Sons and Lovers
Halldor K Laxness, Iceland, (1902-1998), Independent People
Giacomo Leopardi, Italy, (1798-1837), Complete Poems
Doris Lessing, England, (b.1919), The Golden Notebook
Astrid Lindgren, Sweden, (1907-2002), Pippi Longstocking
Lu Xun, China, (1881-1936), Diary of a Madman and Other Stories
Mahabharata, India, (c 500 BC).
Naguib Mahfouz, Egypt, (b. 1911), Children of Gebelawi
Thomas Mann, Germany, (1875-1955), Buddenbrook; The Magic Mountain
Herman Melville, United States, (1819-1891), Moby Dick
Michel de Montaigne, France, (1533-1592), Essays.
Elsa Morante, Italy, (1918-1985), History
Toni Morrison, United States, (b. 1931), Beloved
Shikibu Murasaki, Japan, (N/A), The Tale of Genji Genji
Robert Musil, Austria, (1880-1942), The Man Without Qualities
Vladimir Nabokov, Russia/United States, (1899-1977), Lolita
Njaals Saga, Iceland, (c 1300).
George Orwell, England, (1903-1950), 1984
Ovid, Italy, (c 43 BC), Metamorphoses
Fernando Pessoa, Portugal, (1888-1935), The Book of Disquiet
Edgar Allan Poe, United States, (1809-1849), The Complete Tales
Marcel Proust, France, (1871-1922), Remembrance of Things Past
Francois Rabelais, France, (1495-1553), Gargantua and Pantagruel
Juan Rulfo, Mexico, (1918-1986), Pedro Paramo
Jalal ad-din Rumi, Afghanistan, (1207-1273), Mathnawi
Salman Rushdie, India/Britain, (b. 1947), Midnight's Children
Sheikh Musharrif ud-din Sadi, Iran, (c 1200-1292), The Orchard
Tayeb Salih, Sudan, (b. 1929), Season of Migration to the North
Jose Saramago, Portugal, (b. 1922), Blindness
William Shakespeare, England, (1564-1616), Hamlet; King Lear; Othello
Sophocles, Greece, (496-406 BC), Oedipus the King
Stendhal, France, (1783-1842), The Red and the Black
Laurence Sterne, Ireland, (1713-1768), The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy
Italo Svevo, Italy, (1861-1928), Confessions of Zeno
Jonathan Swift, Ireland, (1667-1745), Gulliver's Travels
Leo Tolstoy, Russia, (1828-1910), War and Peace; Anna Karenina; The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Other Stories
Thousand and One Nights, India/Iran/Iraq/Egypt, (700-1500).
Mark Twain, United States, (1835-1910), The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Valmiki, India, (c 300 BC), Ramayana
Virgil, Italy, (70-19 BC), The Aeneid
Walt Whitman, United States, (1819-1892), Leaves of Grass
Virginia Woolf, England, (1882-1941), Mrs. Dalloway; To the Lighthouse
Marguerite Yourcenar, France, (1903-1987), Memoirs of Hadrian

Here is BBC's top 100 books list. This concentrates highly on British and American writers, with some others included here and there:
1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie

P.S: Budday coming. Ask me which ones I don't have and you'll know what to get me :D

Gossip

2009-03-06T12:22:00.001+05:30

Well I have lots of guys say they don't gossip. And then I have known and experienced most of them gossip to no end. And then they say, why should we gossip? We have better things to do. So well, because I don't have anything better to do, here are a few reasons, why guys are better gossipers than girls:

Hey, if underwear can be shared, why not ‘information’!
Active imaginations and forgetfulness are the markers of a genius. So who can blame them if they allow their imagination to run on facts and then forget the actual ‘information’ along the way?
The stomach should be used for storing food not ‘information’. If any ‘information’ enters, immediately evacuate it to make way for more food.
It’s just a technique to avoid another World War. If everyone knows everything, there will be no secrets, and hence no secret weapons of mass destruction. Right?
The policy: Say it all when you are sober, so that you don’t have anything to blurt when you are drunk.
The world is too boring. Distractions are necessary. And if there is an interesting distraction somewhere, let everyone benefit from it.
Live in the present. Why imagine what happens in the future when you can sit with a smoke and a beer at the beach now! What can such ‘minor information’ do to the future anyway?
There is no jealousy, no your-shoes-are-better-than-mine, or your-assests-are-better-than-mine between them. All ‘information’ is therefore equal, and everyone has a right to it.
An attempt at serving the society. It’s important to stand united and educate one and all. The aim is to achieve 100 % literacy.
Girls are too busy thinking of ten reasons for everything. So the guys have decided to carry on the mantle.

The vagrant wind

2009-02-26T15:53:00.004+05:30

The whoosh of a wind as it swings past my ear
Whistling a tune, pleasant but unclear
A huge bag slung on its shoulder
The fuzzy fog trapped inside.

Hopping past the meadows
Ignoring the trees that beckon
Brushing the flowers with a touch
Scampering away merrily, grinning to everyone.

A tinge of mischief hidden beneath its folds
Spurts of giggles every now and then
Sprinting across as you look away
Sneaking away to the corner.

In the lands far and near,
As it explores what we so fear,
Rings a hollow laugh, a merry cheer
Left behind by the vagrant that swishes past.
- © HAEM ROY

Verbal Obfuscations

2009-02-25T11:20:00.004+05:30

I may be no activist or Gandhivadi. Of course I have lied in my lifetime. But, one thing I do believe in, is speaking your mind.

First lemme straighten things. By speaking up I do not mean go out and proclaim your love for Communism in America, or walk into the Sena office and deliver a speech in Bhojpuri. When I say speak up, I mean be straightforward.

In the easiest sense, this is to avoid all hypocrisy, double facetedness, and speculation. I am a believer of 'a spade is a spade and lets make it clear that its a spade'.

But then, if I believe it, doesn't mean the world should eh? I am not Hitler or Bin Laden.

Now getting to some aftereffects. It's like one big capsule. You have to have the courage to swallow it, it may be bitter, it may not taste anything at all, but in the end it will mostly cure. It may have side effects too.

Side-effects: People not being used to straightforwardness take it in the wrong sense. I have had people suddenly change their behaviour towards me and become rude and arrogant. I simply believe, these are people who can't handle the truth. They don't appreciate frank attitudes and would rather have someone bitching behind their back than in front of it.

It may also get you into trouble. But what the hell!

Cure: You don't have the burden of hiding something all the time. What is, is out there.

It's lighter to travel through life with less of this burden I believe. You are more free, more worried about your life rather than trivial, unimportant things. And most important, you know people like you for who you are, and not for something you seem to be.

Watsay?

Things and your mind

2009-02-16T21:19:00.003+05:30

My most recent discovery:
Getting your mind off things is not the same as getting things off your mind.

We are usually good at just one of these two. It's simple logic. If you can get things off your mind, you wouldn't feel the need for the former. And if you are indulging in the former, well, that's just because the latter is not happening.

To get things off your mind, you need to achieve a certain level of detachment - somewhat like achieving Nirvana I say. You have to 'rise above the earthly' and realise that the particular 'thing' is not that important. Considering you have your entire mind focused on that one 'thing', this can be a bit of a problem of course.

The first one obviously is easier (Proving why I usually end up using that). Read books, tell yourself you have become fat and go to the gym, blow your phone bills, drown in work and then drown with stress, write mindless blog posts, etc etc.

What's my point here?
Nothing.
I was just writing a mindless post to get my mind of something :)

What's wrong with Vanity?

2009-02-16T20:47:00.000+05:30

So, lets get this straight. We come alone in this world (unless you are one half of a twin, or multiples of that), and we die alone. That's cliched.

What is not cliched is the fact that we live alone. Yes yes, we are around people all the time and relationships are the most important part of our life, etc. But relationships are not life. People are temporary. Your life is what you live... alone.

So if that is the case, what is wrong when you think about yourself? What is wrong in you making yourself happy, or you talking about how you feel, or you expressing your opinion? Hell, if you won't, who will?

I always believe, the only person who cares the most about you is you alone. So why stop? Why deprive yourself of the love that you deserve? Yeh sure, I do love others. I love my friends, family and all, but I don't discount myself.

Yes I am vain. I won't hesitate in saying that. Cos well, I do love myself a lot. After all, how long can you live with someone you don't love to death?

Anyone has a problem with that? Maybe you never loved yourself enough then.

A few (read: many) uncanny things that will make you wonder how quirky (or jobless) I am

2009-02-14T21:24:00.003+05:30

(Read at your own risk. My advice: skip this post)

1) I don't like biscuits. The only ones I can eat are Pure Magic chocolate and Monaco. I am not very fond of bread either.

2) I get bored of anything and everything very very easily. This also includes people. Sustaining my interest is tough. Which is why I get restless so often.

3) I wanna learn to ride a bike.

4) One of my biggest dream is to go backpacking all over the world. With minimal luxuries, living in the wild and exploring. Maybe on a bike. And scuba dive, and river-rafting, and mountain climbing. And I believe some day I will.

5) I love being a drama queen. Strangely, it makes me feel like i am free somehow.

6) I secretly wish I was acting in theatre. But I get weak in the knees at auditions. I have also secretly wished I had learnt contemporary and Latin dance. :)

7) I will go to jail for mass murder if I try to sing in public.

8) I like collecting books, movies and music. Wait, make that LOVE collecting.

9) I make very good coffee. And experimental food.

10) No male is allowed in my bathroom, not even my brother. I can sense it if he has even stepped into it. I can't stand a dirty bathroom.

11) I can be quite an organisational freak at times. I have to keep things in order, make lists, etc. But again, I can be quite messy at times also. (check my cupboard for proof).

12) I talk to plants, animals, myself, everything. I once tried talking to snail. But it crawled away.

13) I love water - the sea, the rain, swimming. And the breeze by the sea. I can walk/sit/stare by the sea for hours without saying a word.

14) I have got the weirdest compliments from people. One guy once commented - 'you have a very bright back'!

15) I love saying PREPOSTEROUS with a Brit accent. I break into accents or voices while talking to people generally. For no reason.

16) I have been the eldest in the family and youngest outside of the house, wherever. This is one of the causes for my split personality.

17) I like writing little notes to friends now and then. Saying thank you's or anything I feel.

18) I sometimes wish I could be mean.

19) I don't like blonde men. I prefer Latinos. They look really hot I think.

20) On the menu, I'll always look for the item with the most vegetables in it.

21) I can get very very shy at social events and parties.

22) If you call me when I am asleep, I will talk to you, but never remember the conversation the next day.

23) I love babies and kids. Be it animal or human. I have had half hr long conversations with street kids and beggar kids in the train.

24) I sing and dance for myself when I am alone.

25) I like the way it feels in high heels. After 2 hrs though, my feet don't support that feeling.

26) I have laughed continuously for 10 mins without knowing the reason.

27) I am very impulsive. Which is why I get a lot of afterthoughts. I may probably think of 35 better things about myself AFTER i publish this note. But I can also get unbearably practical at times.

28) I write better in verse than in prose. And i love metaphors and analogies.

29) I am a movie buff. But I can't watch horror movies. No matter how lame.

30) I love surprises. Though I haven't ever got one.

31) I love my first name. And I absolutely HATE it if someone calls me Hemlata. Though I love the way it confuses people.

32) I am very secretive, especially when it comes to what I am thinking or feeling. There is probably a side to me which even my closest friends don't know.

33) But I always prefer to speak my mind about what I think of someone. If I am angry with someone, like someone or dont like someone, etc, I will let that person know.

34) I like coloured pens. I used to write all my notes in different colours.

35) I always wished I could play volleyball and basketball. And regret that my school never had any of these.

36) I have a chatpata tooth. At least once a day I get a BAD craving for something chatpata. I don't like sweets that much. I will pick Pineapple cake to chocolate cake anyday.

37) As much as I say I hate too much mush, I am a total softie inside. Gimme flowers and I will sigh to no end. I am a total romantic at heart.

38) I have strange tastes with men. I run away from lovestruck puppies, and mysterious guys will always intrigue me.

39) I love my independence, and I will fight to defend it always. But I also like chivalry.

40) I dream that someday, someone loves me so much that he protects me not cos I need it, but he wants to. As much a tomboy I am, I know I will turn into a total girly girl then.

41) I can't paint my nails. I try, and have to sit with nail remover by my side, always.

42) I hate pigeons. They are stupid, silly and full of shit!

43) I find jeans a very uncomfortable piece of clothing. I'd pick skirts and Chudidars anyday.

44) I get angry very fast and cool down very fast. But if someone has really hurt me, I won't get angry. I will just stop talking to the person forever. And I have actually done that.

45) I love bright colours. To no end. My least favourite colours would be greys, mehndi green and browns. And I can never have too much of white.

46) I have a thing for men with slightly long hair. Better still, curly.

47) I have a mad shoe fetish. Though I don't have money to indulge in it yet. Someday I will have shoes in all colours.

48) I dread watching a movie alone.

49) I have a habit of plucking my eyelashes out at intervals. I have no idea why.

50) I love the few glow in the dark stickers in my room. I also love the way the streetlight dances through the curtains on my cupboard at night while I am falling asleep.

51) I have a strange habit of reading anything an everything... from hoardings to stuff written on the back on ricks, etc etc.

52) I feel a constant need to stay busy and have more on my plate than I can handle. I will never stay happy if I do only one thing. Which is why, even in college, I was into everything possible, and every society that would take me :)

53) I am easily amused by little things, even small whistles and kids' toys.

54) I am a tomboy who wishes she was girly. But again, I love being a tomboy too. Don't ask me, I don't understand it either.

55) Time and again, I feel like picking up my bag and running away to some far off hill or beach.

56) I get strange urges to bite people often. I have bit people's fingers and hands when I get that itch.

57) I trip on Blueberry Cheesecake. And the awesome Wild Berry Iced Tea at Candies.

58) When I am in a serious mood, you won't be able to remember if it is the same person who was going so mad. I call it my extremes.

59) I love it if people call me weird. Or eccentric. Or crazy. Well, that quite proves why they say it too.

OPPOSITES

2009-02-13T19:23:00.002+05:30

(just a short story I wrote very very long ago)

Opposites

I am introverted, have always been so. I have never liked being in the limelight too much. The ‘In’ crowd is something I totally despise. I just can’t understand how they can live a life so dependent on others, on their friends; how they can share all their thoughts and feelings with someone else; and dress up and act and behave to impress others. Aren’t they satisfied with themselves? Why do they need others? I remain by myself most of the time; enjoy dressing up for my own pleasure. I am Sanskriti and I live with and for Sanskriti.

Oh yes, Sanskriti is one of the boring types I must say! I have known her since my childhood. Let me introduce myself first. I am Susie, and though I am 4 years younger than Sanskriti, I do know her very well. But she doesn’t know me. She was always scared to make friends, whereas I, quite unlike her, have always been a social person. I hold pride in my numerous friends and the ability to charm people. Sanskriti can’t charm even a dog even if she tries her best! I mean, look at her…oiled hair, no sense of dressing (where does she get these rags from?), cannot talk properly – forget English, always oblivious to everything…

Many laugh and make fun of my appearance. But then, what’s wrong with it? Oil is good for the hair; no one has hair as strong and healthy as mine. Those who have coloured their hair following the ‘trends’ will regret later on. I like my dresses, they are extremely comfortable and don’t suffocate you, or indulge in skin-show. And I speak very well when I am by myself, it’s just that I am not comfortable in company. I have been living a satisfied life, barring a few weird incidents. There are some periods in time when I am completely lost. It’s as if I lose consciousness and when I regain myself, I do not know what happened, don’t remember anything. But then, it just be due to weakness, as I often do not eat; I just don’t feel hungry.

Crazy she definitely is, and these ‘weakness effects’ are just signs of her madness. Living all by yourself will have some effect on the mind! No man is an island and all islands are in deep water. Forget her! I just can’t imagine her life. I live a life where I eat a lot, talk a lot and laugh a lot. Going to the movies, partying, enjoying all the pleasures that life has to offer. I have always been a free bird, with no one to bind me or stop me. I did what I liked, when I liked, since I was a kid. Who needs parents when you have so many friends?

My childhood was a learning process. My father was a strict disciplinarian and my Ma was a deeply religious lady. They imbibed in me their values and morals. I was taught to respect and obey all orders, work around the house, pray regularly, never speak or shout out loud and contain myself. I did try to follow all that, but I guess I am too clumsy. I wasn’t allowed to be friends with the guys, and they were too rough for me anyways. I had a couple of girlfriends, but none too close. I never had much to talk and was happy being with myself. That is the way to live – in all harmony and proper order. It was disastrous for me the day my father died. I was around 12 years old. I felt this deep sense of regret and loss. I do not know how he died, no one told me, and was kept away during his last rites. I was not allowed to even look at the body. Maybe they thought I would get scared. After Pa’s death, Ma’s behaviour towards me changed. She did not talk to me, or care for me. She just shunned me and always kept shouting at me whenever she spotted me. I think the death had affected her mentally. I cooked my own food when hungry, and continued with my activities by myself. She also died after a year or so, how I do not know or remember. After her death, I was sent to an orphanage as any of my relatives refused to accept me.

My Pop never gave me any freedom, always restricting and tracking every movement of mine. I wasn’t allowed to have many friends and boys were a strict no. But I loved hanging out with the boys; they were so much fun. We would play football, climb trees and do all sorts of cranky stuff. Of course Pop wasn’t supposed to know! Mom would ask me to do household chores, pray, etc. But I hated all that. I would mess up the chores purposely. These restrictions in fact egged me further and I tried my best to do just the opposite. They were bearing upon me too much. Finally, one day I couldn’t take it any longer and I killed Pop with my switchblade knife. Everyone was shocked and thought I had gone crazy. Mom now hated me and stayed away. Maybe she was scared! She would occasionally try to discipline me and order me around. But I showed her too that I was not to be pushed around. I killed her too…

I considered the orphanage my home and started living there normally. I got used to the lifestyle and didn’t need much for myself. I got into college and concentrated only on my studies. But, however hard I studied, I never managed to get satisfying marks. College was when these weakness-blackouts increased, sometimes even during exams. But I managed.

Yes, it was the orphanage where I knew Sanskriti properly. I was sent there after I killed Mom as all were now scared of me. Maybe they thought I was a serial killer! Ha ha! She would follow all orders, stay within her room and remain to herself. Most boring I believe! I, on the other hand, got friendly with almost everyone, including the watchman and peon. They would help me when I wanted to sneak out for a party or something. Studies were never my interest. In fact, I hardly studied. During exams I somehow managed to scrape through with a bit of divine and ‘other’ help.

These blackout phases are seriously scaring me now. I recently visited the doctor finally and he too was confused. He did not know what ailed me and thought maybe I should see a psychiatrist or something. I just hope it’s no serious illness. Two days ago I found some things in my cupboard, which did not belong to me. There were some clothes, the modern ‘trendy’ types and make-up. I found some cigarette packets and a switchblade knife and was shocked. There was also a diary with Susie written on the front cover. I did not know how all that came there. Maybe I had made a new friend during these unconscious ‘blackout’ phases that I do not remember. That’s when it started to worry me.

Well, she had to find out one day, and so she will. She found my stuff in her cupboard and wondered whose it was. Of course she doesn’t know me yet, so she is confused. But once she does, she will be shocked, terrified maybe. Earlier I would hide my things at places she never looked at, but at the orphanage there was no option. And it was here that I felt more free and expressed myself more often. That’s how she became suspicious and went to that stupid doctor. But of course he couldn’t find out anything. I can hide myself so well that I bet even the psychiatrist will be baffled. Though I do intend to get introduced to Sanskriti soon. I am eager to see her reaction, because helpless as she is, she won’t be able to harm me of course. I am much stronger. But she has to know me, her opposite, her other half, her other personality ….

Haem Roy

The fall of the majority

2009-02-03T21:14:00.002+05:30

Recently, I saw Luck By Chance. My reasons for awaiting this movie were different (read: Farhan), though conventional reasons too played some part.

But, it was after I watched the movie, or rather, after people I know watched the movie that I had a realisation. All the people I know were divided on their opinions about it. Some liked it immensely, some hated it. And when I asked the reason for hatred - 'It was boring'.

Now, let me clear this. I am not publicising or justifying the movie. But I have a theory as to why the people who hated this movie did so (as I have a theory for every second thing).
The world has gotten used to formulas. They are used to a routine, comfort zones and a set pattern to everything. Even entertainment has a pattern.

Movies for example. They need to have an adrenalin rush. There HAS to be a twist in the tale, and having a surprising or dramatic climax is important. Experimentation is allowed as long as you follow the rules of shock and stun. Luck By chance did not have a climax. It had a very stable pace, no ups and not much downs. And hence, it was disliked by many for 'not having a story/plot'.

According to me, it was not meant to have a strong 'plot', since what goes on in Bollywood is common knowledge. What was the strength was the characterization, and the performances. Yes, it sure wasn't a 'great' movie. There were a lot of flaws, a lot of stretchy scenes, and had a desperate need for better editing. But then, it wasn't that bad either.

Another factor which brings movies to doom I believe is expectations. If you expect too much from a movie, you will be disappointed very easily. On the other hand, if you expect too little, chances are you will really praise it. This is why it gets more and more difficult to predict the success of movies these days.

I believe we should enter a movie hall without expectations. Not affected by hype or lack of it. Opinions are being formed by everyone. And all are subjective. Some out of habit, some cynicism, some surprise and some lack of surprise. No review can be trusted and no opinion adopted as your own.

There is no majority.

I want to be a politician

2009-02-01T00:52:00.012+05:30

Now, this is not a Std 5 English essay, nor is it my SOP to the political parties to get them to adopt me.

I am just trying to see how life could be better. Let me explain.

If I were a politician, I wouldn't have to worry too much about restrictions. My bills would all be paid of course, so I can talk on the phone or use up as much electricity as I wish.

Oh and some cool wheels with a light on it too. Break signals or zoom past the speed limit, who cares. I am allowed, since I would be one of those who runs the country, and cos i make the rules I can break them.

I can be impulsive and whimsical too. I don't need to try and be responsible and all. If I feel like, I can suddenly ban the wearing of underwear. Now of course during the ancient times in India, it was the skimpy generation. So after all that IS Indian culture, and who are we to not follow it.

I can polish my debating skills by fighting over mindless issues. Obviously it is not necessary that I know about these issues. What is important is I can speak nonsense (which I am quite capable of, by the grace of the Almighty). The rest will follow. Oh but I have to be careful to ignore the big issues like terrorism and crime rate and poverty. They are a trap by the opposition.

I have to speak about the small issues only, like an incident at a pub, or a stray cat being knocked off by a parked cycle falling off, or hot tea burning a celeb's lips. Lets ban cycles and tea! After all, who else will look after the minority if not me. We shouldn't ignore these issues.

And if 29 people come together to molest a young girl at a pub, I will not care about the welfare of women in the country. Why should I care about the lack of awareness and empathy among the people, or about the woosies in the law system. It's much better to tear off the root, and just remove all chances of any fun anyone can have. No one has fun, no one misuses it. Simple logic.

Maybe I can shut movie halls to stop the casting couch. Or how about banning cars on the roads to prevent all road accidents.

I haven't been out of India. I can just fly to Australia for a research on the life of penguins, and how they would affect India's ecology. Of course, I would need my family, my neighbour, my barber, my chaiwala and bhajiwali for general help during the research.

I can also be of help to humanity. You don't think I am heartless now, come on. I will give some donations to the families of war, attack victims, with the media being totally in the know. They have the right to know and cover everything (that I ask them to cover).

I will be the best politician in the country I tell you. I won't ever be caught in sting operations, I will make sure I keep all my wealth a big secret from the Income Tax, I will be in the eyes of the media at all the right times, and of course I will visit all your homes every 5 years (or maybe 2, you never know) to ask for your votes. I promise, I won't trouble you at all otherwise and you won't see a trace of me anywhere.

And as for all that keeps happening in the country, 'bade bade shehron mein choti choti baatein hoti rehti hain'. I have my cuppa to bother about. Another cutting please!

(a relevant video: http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=4N0eeu1wahM)

I can manage

2008-12-04T18:15:00.017+05:30

When the tide turns on me

When every step beholds a rock

I'll be fine

Cos I can manage.

When the world seems lost

And I grapple with directions

I'll be fine

Cos I can manage.

As you worry about your own

Go on with your life

Don't bother about me

Cos I can manage.

When I need someone

I'll hold my own hand

Don't look back at me

Cos I can manage.

But don't worry for when you are low

Or just need a push to go

It's you who I'll look at first

Cos my own I can manage.

Dec 04, 2008.

Paki media's views on the attacks

2008-12-03T15:24:00.004+05:30

Politicians playing the blame game, countries speculating, Countries trying to attack on the pretext of saving other nations and the world, diplomacy jumping and then taking dips, everything going for a toss. The people are confused on what to believe and what not. The UN has become the force that it was before the World War - a silent spectator. Those in the know shut up. And the ignorant turn their beliefs into facts for the world.

And the world laps it all up. So that in the end, its a huge mess of views, opinions, diplomatic talks, personal grudges, vested interests, and confusion. And the facts are all hidden beneath, lost forever.

In the midst of all this, adding to the confusion is the Paki media. This bit of video clip just gave me a whole new perspective. I must say imagination is great for the media there. I could never have fathomed this angle to the attacks. But I will reserve my views and leave you to conclude whatever you wish from these clips:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (most scandalist)

Part 5

Do let me know what you think.

Back to democracy

2008-12-01T19:28:00.008+05:30

Here is something that can provide a ray of hope to us. A way towards change:

An incident that happened some years ago where some fellow in Bombay itself decided to make use of this hidden rule and not vote for anyone and make that obvious is what motivated me. One person did it, and it was in the news. Imagine what would happen if even 200-300 youth decided to do this. It's what made me think, this is the way ahead, the way towards the change we are all looking for. And as I looked for more such incidents, I found another interesting article in the Indian Express online edition. You SHOULD read it. It is informative and shows how this was implemented somewhere.

This can be used very well to shake the governance. If even a few hundred exercise this, the politicians will take notice. And they will start talking. Maybe more can join in. And even a re-polling option can be asked for. It's a way to ask for change. A way to protest. Something that will show the politicians that yes we can do something. We are not a bunch of fools who get lured by their promises and blindly vote. We also have power to change the country and the system and if they don't buck up, they won't be able to hold onto their seats.

Let us start with this movement. As we go ahead with rallies and marches, mails and messages, this is one issue we can talk about.

I may be too ambitious. I may have wrong information. But then I have to start somewhere. And if someone has better ideas, better info, better views, you are welcome. Counter, agree, add, do whatever, but please react. Let us find a way to be active and do something. A way to actually create an upheaval.

Show that we still are a democracy. And it is the masses who have the power.

The rule*:

Rule 49-O is a Rule in the The Conduct of Elections Rules, 1961, which governs elections in India. It covers the procedures to be followed when a valid voter decides not to cast his vote, and decides to record this fact. Recording one's vote under Section 49-O is a choice that voters can exercise to prevent electoral fraud, and misuse of their vote.

49-O. Elector deciding not to vote.-If an elector, after his electoral roll number has been duly entered in the register of voters in Form-17A and has put his signature or thumb impression thereon as required under sub-rule (1) of rule 49L, decided not to record his vote, a remark to this effect shall be made against the said entry in Form 17A by the presiding officer and the signature or thumb impression of the elector shall be obtained against such remark.

Present Implications of Rule 49-O
Since the ballot paper/EVM contains only the list of candidates, a voter cannot record his vote under Section 49-O directly. He must inform the presiding officer at the election booth. This violates the secrecy of the ballot.

The exact implications of Rule 49-O from the perspective of winner declaration are unclear. It may be, given the present state of The Conduct of Election Rules, 1961, assumed that a winner will be declared irrespective of the number of 'non-votes'. However, a note of every 'non-vote' will be made with the Election Officer, and the total number of non-voters will, presumably, be available under the Right to Information, Act. Please note that the availability of this information has not been confirmed as yet.

Some recent articles suggest that in case the number of votes recorded under Section 49-O is greater than the maximum number of votes polled in favour of any of the candidates, a repoll is held. This is not explicitly mentioned in any of the sections of The Conduct of Elections Rules, 1961.

*Info courtesy Dhawal Jain who was kind enough to source it for me.

More blogs that talk about this rule, the flaws and possibilities:

1. http://erasmus-in-india.blogspot.com/2006/07/rule-49-o.html

2. http://catscanman.wordpress.com/2006/04/27/rule-49-o/

Please pass on this information to as many people as you can and create awareness about this Rule.

On the city being one, and then not.

2008-11-28T21:56:00.003+05:30

I don't know whether I should feel happy that everyone I know is safe, or sad that so many I don't know are no more. I feel guilty even feeling relieved at the safety of those I know. And I feel I know all those I don't too.

This one event has made the minds and hearts of all the citizens one. Everyone feels, everyone cries, everyone wants to reach out and wipe out the past, turn back time. As horrendous as this massacre is, it has definitely brought the fast scattering city together. Its one city, one issue. And we have all realised how much this city beats in our pulses. How much it lives in us as much as we live in it. And we feel one with the person on the street walking next to us, or walking in the other part of town.

There are no divides. No townies and suburbanites. No rich and poor. No North Indians or Marathas. Everyone is a Bombayite. (I still feel for this term rather than Mumbaikar, so I will continue using it). And everyone feels the pain.

And I could see it in office today, when people felt helpless. They were watching, commenting and then feeling bad about just watching and commenting. They wanted to do something. There were a few of us who wanted to donate blood and I called up the Bombay Hospital to register myself. But there were enough donors they said and just took my number before thanking me. Even though I was disappointed at not being able to help, there was a part of me that felt good, because enough donors meant the city was out there for each other indiscriminately.

And no, I am not giving some crappy schmeil about the 'spirit' of the city. Bullshit that is! I am one of those who believe it isnt spirit, its just helplessness that made the city go on. This is different. And i hope this time the city doesnt show its 'spirit' and comes up in arms against the forces that be. If not for themselves, out of respect for those that died saving the city from further mess.

Amidst all this 'city being one' talk, there is one aspect though that is the thorn. Obviously - politicians. I have a few questions to throw, openly to whoever wishes to answer:

- How is it that with so many hostages and so many victims, the politicians managed to literally saunter out if the Taj, unhurt, unharmed?

- Why did they not take any action whatsoever even at the slightest information of a possible attack or the boat leaving from Karachi?

- How did this happen exactly during the Sadhvi Pragnya episode and the people involved with the same were the ones to be killed first?

- Why is it that inspite of all this trauma, all the politicians can think is how to garner more votebanks, and when to arrive where, where to give condolences and how much compensation to give?

- Why are they behaving like this is an award function where they have to make their presence felt, wave to the public, walk on the red carpet (here, of blood), smile and get airtime and be surrounded by senior officials that could be of help to the city rather than protecting their pointless lives?

- The blame game is escalated to another height and instead of joining forces and saving the city and country as one, as Indians, why are they bent on destroying it further?

I may not have answers to these. Maybe some of these may not have any answers at all. But they are questions rising in the minds of many. They are the questions the masses need answers for. They are the questions that will turn the masses into the active forces, into soldiers, into revolutionaries someday.

Someday then earth will be destroyed entirely to begin the life cycle again.
Maybe.

The city that was... The remains that are

2008-11-27T12:16:00.001+05:30

those streets that we haunted,

where we felt one even with strangers,

those streets have turned strange today,

raped by inhumanity, now haunted by fears.

I remember walking along Metro, or walking among the shaded trees from VT to College (St.Xavier's College), or just walking through GT hospital as a shortcut to Crawford, sitting at Leo's and having some good time, or walking along the shore opposite the Oberoi or the Taj...

all these places were within me... within us. they were a part of the Bombay that beats in the heart of every Bombayite.

But now, like a bubbly girl deflowered by a gang of villains, the city has suddenly turned quiet, lifeless. Its turned into a lifeless form, that continues to move, but not live. It lives in constant fear. In constant memory of what it has gone through. The scars will go, but this damage will stay in the history books.

Most of all this damage will remain forever for the families of the hundreds of victims, of the many martyrs who died defending the city and preventing it from much worse. The short-term memory of the masses will soon forget them, but their families will never be able to recover.

As my heart grows heavy and tears almost well up when I think of the state of the city that I loved; as I can't find words to describe my feelings about the massacre and the victims; as I salute the martyrs and wonder ceaseless about their mourning families and their unfathomable bravery; as I feel one with the whole city and feel its pain in me - I still feel helpless and handicapped. I wish I could do something for this city that resides in me.

"Look she is studying"

2008-11-25T22:21:00.001+05:30

I was travelling by the train the other day, back from work. There sat a kid beside me, who kept staring at me with his little curious eyes. And try as I may, his curious eyes made me curious, wanting to look at what he was looking or wondering about.

As i sat reading my novel, he came closer and tried to comprehend what I was doing. And then his mother said -
'Bagh, abhyaas karte'. (Look, she is studying)

And that sentence somehow struck me. Instantly.

How we drill things into children's minds at such a young age. Reading simply means 'abhyaas' (study). No wonder not many kids grow up to love reading. After all, most kids hated studying. Making them synonymous, they lose out on precious learning.

And how we condition the young ones to live restricted. We show them our view of life. We push them in the direction of life that we have gone and feel is the best and safest.

Where is the spirit to explore? Where is life that is unpredictable, undefined? Why do we try to put life in this one box, and restrict it to that box we know. We are afraid to step out.

I just wonder. It may not look like a big difference, but it would surely make a big difference if the mother told he kid -
Look she is reading a story.

Cinephiles

2008-10-11T23:32:00.003+05:30

Amazing article on cinema and those addicted to it by David Bordwell - his book was our bible when we began studying cinema... I am probably halfway towards becoming a cinephile, with regards to the discussions... The article was recommended by a good friend.
Do read it...

The Europeans have long been fascinated by the subject of cinephilia. The French supplied not only the word but the most outstanding instances, from the founding of Cahiers du cinéma to the passions of the Nouvelle Vague. (1) In the last decade particularly, French critics have often returned to the subject–worrying, for instance, that home video might have changed or even decimated cinephilia–and this has led critics from other countries to join in.

I was reminded of how strongly the idea persists when, at Il Cinema Ritrovato this year, I was invited to sit in on one of several lunches at which critics and historians talked about the subject. The discussion consisted mostly of recollections of the guests’ first encounters with cinema, of the films that affected them most powerfully, of the film-related activities they engaged in during their salad days. Some of us hadn’t done this exercise in autobiography before, but others had had practice. Jonathan Rosenbaum and Eric de Kuyper had both written a fair amount about the sources of their affinity for film. (Sometimes I feel I remember Jonathan’s life better than my own.)

What is cinephilia? Literally, the love of film. But everybody likes, even loves film, no? The term “cinephilia” connotes an overwhelming passion for film, even an obsession about it. And not just particular films. I meet civilians all the time who are devoted to their favorites—The Godfather, The Princess Bride, The Matrix. But they’re not cinephiles. So is it just a matter of quantity? Is it just that the cinephile enjoys a great many movies? Partly, but there’s still more to it.

The cinephile displays symptoms of cinemania, as chronicled in the film of the same name. If you haven’t seen it, Cinemania tracks five people who organize their lives around watching movies. As I watched it, some of my reactions ran to “Wow, that is really hard-core,” but every now and then I thought: “Well, that’s not so weird. I do that.” So I see the similarities...

(contd. here) http://www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=2662

What's this?

2008-10-05T18:14:00.003+05:30

Ever counted how many times people have pointlessly gone 'whats this?' when you have gone and done something radical or unexpected?

Starting from school when you would have doodles in your notebook and your teacher would scream 'whats this?' Doodles, what else!
And then at home when you return after enjoying the first rains, entirely wet - Whats this?
Or maybe when you wear a jeans at a wedding and you have the entire family going Whats this?
Or even better - I have a friend who would draw diagrams and pie charts for literature answers. As far as I saw them, they made perfect sense and in fact, I loved the innovative ideas. But as obvious, his teachers would go 'Whats this?' and threaten to fail him!
I have got red hair extensions now... and I have a volley of Whats this' coming to me.

Its something I felt like doing, and feelings can't be questioned, no matter how silly or radical or weird. Just something I like, simple!

The lonely bungalow feel

2008-10-01T19:25:00.007+05:30

The sweet smell of grass envelops
dew hanging mid-air
mist tying you up all around
a gush of darkness approaches the ground

stars float about, having their siesta
the moon has just stopped bothering
the cottage before you stands in a permanent shadow
the trees covering its promiscuity

and as the crickets begin their speech
the tiny world silently listens
tip-toe, whisper or scream
No other sound will get ears

a wave of eeriness and you walk faster
wanting to get away, but being pulled back
as you crunch the gravel along the road
it's always a wide stretch - behind you or ahead

all your senses alert almost
your Mind wafting away
hushed whispers are all your mouth can manage
seems like someone's carried your voice away

your lonely cottage is your Den
the shadows around it ignored
a tiny lamp your constant companion
the trees sharing the secrets hidden from you
with restless peace your heart keeps beating
as you sleep enveloped by the Lonely Bungalow Feeling...
- © HAEM ROY
1.10.08

Paradise Now

2008-09-19T17:25:00.003+05:30

Thanks to someone at my office, I got hold of a copy of Paradise Now, by award winning filmmaker Hany Abu-Assad, a movie about two suicide bombers - Khaled and Said, in Palestine and an deep look at how they become what they become. It's their search for salvation, and their bitter realisation that they are just pawns in a larger plot. Extremely gripping, the movie is like a camera placed in life, and captures every emotion with such sensitivity that you can't help but get goosebumps. I can't comment about dialogues since I watched it with sub-titles, but I can say I didn't feel any lack of it. What I saw on screen compensated more than enough for it. What is even more interesting is this heart wrenching journey has hardly any shots of violence and still it just twists your insides. Extremely moving, very well shot and amazing performances, especially by Kais Nashif who plays Said.

Worth the awards, accolades and the Oscar nomination and definitely worth a watch or even owning it.

The political volleyball

2008-09-18T17:25:00.000+05:30

I say, why don't they blast the whole country together and start over. That way, they will have their own votebank.

What exactly is the benefit of scare bombs all over the country, injuring some people and murdering the unfortunate few, I haven't yet comprehended. Maybe I am dumb, or maybe I am just not politically inclined. I was born without that mutation in my genes.

Blaming the whole episode on some perpetually constipated loser who couldn't figure out that he was being manipulated by the so called 'religion saviours' for their selfish power plays, and naming him the 'mastermind' terrorist reminds me of the scheming 70's villains and their sidekicks who had no other jobs than to plot such impossible blaming games! Have you even looked at the pictures of the 'terrorist' that is blamed? He just seems too meddled with his own life to even bother about saving his religion.

My view - its just the political parties who care a donkey's nail about anyone but themselves who plot these so that they can blame the ruling party for bad security, blame the opposition for facilitating violence, blame the religious groups for fanaticism, blame the atheists for misguiding the public, blame the moral brigade and blame the 'immorality inducers' and blame the masses for their confusion and indifference. All in all, they blame everyone but themselves for not electing them and not filling their pockets as much as they wish so that they can die in a gold trimmed suit and leave their spoilt children to fight over their illegal properties.

And its not that we choose the wrong people. I think there is some major scientifc advancement that we are unaware of. No matter how decent the person, the moment he/she comes in close vicinity of the seat of power, it's a transmogrification (the Harry Potter kinds) into a vicious, scheming, cunning, greedy and stupid funnel. (its the draining vessel!)

I truly endorse what Sir Douglas Adams *salute* has said in The HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy about a planet of humans being ruled by lizards and they don't overthrow the tyranny cos they simply haven't thought of it. (To know more, go read the book. It's worth it).

And at this point I would like to quote a friend of mine:
"I prefer to be socially and politically ignorant. For as a smart (fictional) man said, I am plagued by the disease of being too intelligent (and hence aware of what a fuckall world we live in), and so to cure myself, I am posing as ignorant. And therefore, blissful!"

I second that.

Word power

2008-09-11T15:30:00.003+05:30

Some years ago, I was an avid participant in many elocution competitions. I had many prizes to my credit too. But back then, no matter how much or how little I knew, I was still ignorant about the actual motive of a speech, or the power of one.

But just like you learn lessons in life when you are hit, you also know things slowly. Ever heard the 'I Have a Dream speech' by Martin Luther?

Or closer home, remember the speech J. Nehru gave as the clock struck midnight and India gained Independence?

There are many such examples - some that changed the world. Some that simply inspired you. It may have been your mother or your teacher saying something, that made a big difference. Words have that power, to move, to bring together. They throw Marx's theory back into his face and turn the 'simple masses' into an active force. Hitler may have been a tyrant, a cruel man, but no one denies that he was a master of words. He could bring life into every syllable and make it hypnotise every listener. And when you get that power, it is bound to get to you somehow, as it did with him!

And it's an unexplainable joy to play with words. And to be in a profession that demands that of you (though of course everything is not as hunky-dory since this is no fairytale).

A blogger has created a list of 13 most illuminating speeches in history. If you are keen to have some words smack you int he face, do have a look.

And I wish to make a recent addition to these - a speech J.K. Rowling gave at a graduation ceremony. May not be world changing, but it sure is inspiring:
J.K.Rowling's inspiring speech - part 1
Part 2
Part 3

If you have any additions or anecdotes, do drop them in.

I want to run away

2008-09-11T14:37:00.003+05:30

I want to backpack...

Just pick a haversack, put in a few things, carry some money, a map and set out. Maybe decide the 1st location, only the 1st. And then go by the wind, or impulse. Explore the uninhabited, dine with the locals, hitchhike down roads, bathe in waterfalls and write by the stream. Breathe in the fresh air, read a story that the clouds draw, listen to the music that the little village boy with the flute composes... and sleep in a sleeping bag under the stars.

But... (there is always a fricking but), responsibilities, home... a mother to care for!

Ah well.. some day for sure. I know. And those wishing to join me are most welcome.

Straightforward or safe?

2008-09-10T14:06:00.000+05:30

How well do you know yourself? Probably not at all. Maybe you are just someone with a big bloated head who thinks too much about himself (allow gender generalisations here). Ok, now that I have minutely poked your ego, let me get to the point.

I am not trying to be some sort of world hating prick. This is just something I concluded from years of interaction with people of all sorts. And it was nailed strongly just recently.

You make friends with someone. You believe they are nice. They are fun to hang out with. They say you are good friends, you think you are good friends. Then some doubt creeps into your mind. So you think, lets clear it. Since we are good friends, it would be better than keep it in your mind. After all, everyone likes straightforwardness right?

Wrong.

You just think you like that. When the doubt is voiced, your insides churn, your mind does a somersault and all the friendship sinks for the moment. "How could the friend even think that?" or "I that what you think? Fine, What's the point of having any contact now?" These are the thoughts that cross your mind probably. Why doesn't this thought come - "Oh well, now that I know, how do I clarify things?"

And then begin the string of events of anger, explanations, anger, sulking, awkwardness, discomfort, ego, etc etc etc. Friendship goes for a toss. And so do your belief that you can handle anything. Very obviously you can't!

This is not an incident that has happened once, or that has occurred only with me. The causes may be different, the doubts may be about the exact same pen or leaked information or hidden feelings - doesn't matter. The pattern is always the same. It is rare that I have seen anyone take things well. It's like a switch in them turns on and they transmogrify into jerks of the biggest order (let us mention, to save flying volleys, that probably I am one of them too!)

And whoosh, before you know it, the tornado vanishes leaving behind the wreck.

Now lets get to the other side. What if the doubt is not clarified? Then is it 'safe'?

I wish!

Then it starts a brand new family inside you, with a procession every two minutes. Oh and new babies every 5 minutes. It keeps growing until the population turns restless, jostling for space and turning everything else out. And there will be no peace - ever. (ok that's exaggerating but you get the point).

So then, which one do you choose? Would YOU rather be straightforward or safe? Or a better question would be - would you like people you know to be straightforward or safe?

Puppy dog face

2008-09-08T18:25:00.004+05:30

Just a thought:

If I had a date in space among the stars, will I need to wear heels? Or will the gravity just make me look taller anyway!

Oh and the recent addition to my list of fetishes are shoes. Anyone wishing to donate some? *sparkling grin*

And an afterthought to the thought:
Farhan Akhtar is quite hot. And I somehow like his raspy voice. But well since I am not alone, I will have to do with some other curly-long-haired, guitar wielding, crazy minded, good-looking person.
Any suggestions?