There are times when a book makes such a great impression on you that you can see the
aphorisms gleaned from the book, as a living example in your everyday life. Each and every incident you see in your life, will remind you of a pithy saying found in the book. 'Shantaram' was a prime example of a life-changing book, where the sayings rang with the sound of truth. I was lucky enough to find a second book that did the same for me, a book that made me laugh and cry at the same time, with the whole gamut of emotions that it manages to evoke in you. I am talking about a book called 'Tuesdays with Morrie' by Mitch Albom, which describes itself thus - 'An old man, a young man; and life`s greatest lesson'.
This book recounts the lessons that the author gains from an inspirational professor from his university days; a man called Morrie Schwartz. The author thinks the world of his professor, and on graduation day promises Morrie, that he would always be in touch. However, the author like many others before him, finds it difficult to honour this promise, when confronted with life and its many problems. He drifts apart from his professor, until sixteen years later, Morrie`s appearance on an episode of the famous television series, 'Nightline', as a person dying from Lou Gehrig`s disease, makes him want to touch base with his professor, who he affectionately used to address as 'Coach'. The day he arrives at Morrie`s house happens to be a Tuesday, and they decide to meet every Tuesday for their meetings, where Morrie lectures his favourite student on life and its challenges. As Albom so poignantly says, "The last class of my old professor`s life had only one student. I was the student".
Morrie instead of moping around, now that he is dying, decides that his death should be a learning experience for people around him, for he says that he feels most alive when he knows that he is still capable of making a difference to someone`s life, even when his body withers around him. The author, who is lucky to be the recipient of Morrie`s lessons, faithfully records all his experiences, to preserve it for posterity. Over the course of fourteen Tuesdays, Morrie generously gives away all he can still give away, as the disease gnaws away at him, rendering him incapable of performing the most basic of activities. His indomitable spirit shines through when he tells Ted Koppel from 'Nightline', "Ted, this disease has taken my body. I will not allow it to take my soul."
The quality that I liked about Morrie was that unlike many people on their death beds, Morrie doesn`t allow his family to drop everything for his sake, even though they would have been more than willing to do so. As he tells his sons, "If you stop leading a normal life, this disease would have killed three people, instead of one.". From the time that he finds out about his disease, till the time of his death, Morrie makes a difference to the lives of millions of people the world over, and continues to do so, even after death.
I really don`t think I am capable of doing justice to this book. One thing, that I can guarantee however, is that you`d be joining the crusade to promote the book once you have read it, because this is a story that just can`t not leave an impression
on whoever reads it.
Read more...
Monday, June 14, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
Rajneeti - a review
After reviewing a lot of reviews about 'Rajneeti', most of which rated it quite highly, barring the few that delighted in going against the flow, just to be different, I decided that the movie warranted a look at. However, my experience with movies that I have patronised within the first week of the release has not been the greatest. Sample this, 'Chandni Chowk to China', 'Lahore' and other movies that were so bad, that even mentioning them here, seems like a real waste. What was worse, was that most of these movies had been rated highly. Suffice to say, the experience had made me wary of investing too much on movies, that I am watching based solely on television and newspaper reviews. Sunday, therefore saw me at one of the movie theatres on MG road, clutching a ticket that hadn`t burnt too deep a hole in my pocket, silently praying that this should be one of the better movies that I would watch.
Half an hour into the movie and I was hooked, eagerly awaiting the next twist in a movie that boasts of a power-packed star cast, where each member seems to have been made for the role. Naseeruddin Shah, has a miniscule role in the movie, in which he still manages to dazzle as the firebrand politician, Bhaskar Sanyal. The movie is about a political dynasty, and the games and countergames that politicians play in order to be at the helm of the political affairs. The fact that they share the same bloodline seems not to matter, as in the quest for the limelight, elaborate conspiracies are hatched to upstage the opponent. Prakash Jha, has drawn on elements of the Mahabharata, in the making of this movie, and it is evident in not just the plot, but also the names of the characters. You have Nana Patekar, playing Brij Gopal, the uncle of the younger members of the Pratap clan, Prithvi(Arjun Rampal), Samar(Ranbir Kapoor) and Veerendra(Manoj Bajpai), whose character reminds you of Krishna. More such instances unfold themselves as the movie progresses, and it is to the credit of the filmmaker that he has managed to incorporate these elements in a modern political setting, without it seeming anachronistic.
The movie, which dazzles in the first half with its brilliance, slackens off somewhat in the second, with a few melodramatic moments and a really out-of-place item song thrown in, which could have been avoided. Then again, the reason all the flaws are evident in the first place, is because the movie sets such high standards, that you expect nothing less than excellence from it. As far as performances go, Manoj Bajpai, walks away with the honours. Inspite of essaying a negative character, your heart goes out to him, as he thirsts for the recognition that is denied to him, in preference to his cousins. The need for attention, makes him nominate a Dalit youth, Suraj(Ajay Devgan), for the party seat, which once again draws a parallel with a certain incident in the Mahabharata. Ajay Devgan, gives one of those under-stated performances, that we have come to expect from him; his body language speaking volumes to compensate for the lack of words. Arjun Rampal, playing the scion to the Pratap clan, is a revelation. He plays a tough talking politician, who allows emotions to get the better of him, which leads to his downfall on most occasions. Ranbir, deserves accolades for successfully relinquishing his chocolate-boy image, and coming of age in this movie, as Samar, the suave, shrewd strategist who works in the background to allow his elder brother Prithvi, to reap rich dividends. Katrina too, acquits herself favourably, giving a performance that should stand her in good stead, when it comes to getting roles that demand much more than dancing around trees.
This one therefore, is a refreshing change from all those movies that demand a complete lack of common sense,and which indulge in over-the-top histrionics to elicit a response from the audience, which isn`t exactly forthcoming. What we have here is a hard-hitting movie, that makes you think, and ensures that the characters stay with you long after you have walked out of the theatre.
Read more...
Half an hour into the movie and I was hooked, eagerly awaiting the next twist in a movie that boasts of a power-packed star cast, where each member seems to have been made for the role. Naseeruddin Shah, has a miniscule role in the movie, in which he still manages to dazzle as the firebrand politician, Bhaskar Sanyal. The movie is about a political dynasty, and the games and countergames that politicians play in order to be at the helm of the political affairs. The fact that they share the same bloodline seems not to matter, as in the quest for the limelight, elaborate conspiracies are hatched to upstage the opponent. Prakash Jha, has drawn on elements of the Mahabharata, in the making of this movie, and it is evident in not just the plot, but also the names of the characters. You have Nana Patekar, playing Brij Gopal, the uncle of the younger members of the Pratap clan, Prithvi(Arjun Rampal), Samar(Ranbir Kapoor) and Veerendra(Manoj Bajpai), whose character reminds you of Krishna. More such instances unfold themselves as the movie progresses, and it is to the credit of the filmmaker that he has managed to incorporate these elements in a modern political setting, without it seeming anachronistic.
The movie, which dazzles in the first half with its brilliance, slackens off somewhat in the second, with a few melodramatic moments and a really out-of-place item song thrown in, which could have been avoided. Then again, the reason all the flaws are evident in the first place, is because the movie sets such high standards, that you expect nothing less than excellence from it. As far as performances go, Manoj Bajpai, walks away with the honours. Inspite of essaying a negative character, your heart goes out to him, as he thirsts for the recognition that is denied to him, in preference to his cousins. The need for attention, makes him nominate a Dalit youth, Suraj(Ajay Devgan), for the party seat, which once again draws a parallel with a certain incident in the Mahabharata. Ajay Devgan, gives one of those under-stated performances, that we have come to expect from him; his body language speaking volumes to compensate for the lack of words. Arjun Rampal, playing the scion to the Pratap clan, is a revelation. He plays a tough talking politician, who allows emotions to get the better of him, which leads to his downfall on most occasions. Ranbir, deserves accolades for successfully relinquishing his chocolate-boy image, and coming of age in this movie, as Samar, the suave, shrewd strategist who works in the background to allow his elder brother Prithvi, to reap rich dividends. Katrina too, acquits herself favourably, giving a performance that should stand her in good stead, when it comes to getting roles that demand much more than dancing around trees.
This one therefore, is a refreshing change from all those movies that demand a complete lack of common sense,and which indulge in over-the-top histrionics to elicit a response from the audience, which isn`t exactly forthcoming. What we have here is a hard-hitting movie, that makes you think, and ensures that the characters stay with you long after you have walked out of the theatre.
Read more...
Monday, May 31, 2010
The smile that never was.
He had always thought, he was much too level-headed to fall for one of those "Love at first sight" syndromes, relegating it solely to the realms of those mushy Bollywood movies, where the characters had all the time in the world, to pursue the call of their hearts. Fate, however had dealt him a cruel hand, and rendered him incapable of conjuring up any sort of fantasies of the romantic kind. He had lost his father at the young age of 7, a result of a mishap at the factory where he worked. His mother worked odd jobs and managed to eke out a barely hand-to-mouth existence for the family. With great difficulty, he managed to make it to class 5, after which the circumstances at home, forced him to take up a job, to assist his ailing mother. By the age of 10, an age at which kids discover the world of Xbox and Nintendo, Raghav had lost the innocence of childhood and been forced to become a man.
8 years working variously as a cleaner, a waiter, and a cook, at the Udupi restaurant at the corner of the street, had left him with enough, to make a trip to Dubai, where an uncle, had promised him a job. The hope of seeing his mother lead a comfortable life, was enough incentive for Raghav to accept his offer. Once the decision was taken, the days leading up to his departure flew in a flurry of activities. There were provisions to be bought, relatives to be informed and all the documents to be readied before he was to board the plane. The last requirement was the one, that found him at the photographer`s dingy studio, on a balmy Sunday evening. The last time he had stepped into this studio was during happier times, when as a kid, he had come here with his father. There had been a contest on Children`s day, where the cutest kid would have his picture published in the newspaper and his father had decided to send his pictures to the editor. That day, eating the cotton candy, when he had his father all to himself, had been the happiest of his young life. He felt a lump in his throat, as all those childhood memories came flooding back, and he had to hastily blink back tears. It was as he was in the act of composing himself that he saw Her.
There she stood at the counter talking to the shop assistant, her hair billowing in the breeze of the rickety table fan, that stood in the corner. She had the most innocent face he had seen on a girl ever, the kind of face that makes you feel protective towards a person. She was dressed in a Salwar Kameez, and the aura of simplicity surrounding her,seemed to make her face glow. As the door closed behind him, she turned in his direction. One look at her, took his breath away. All those feelings, which he had thought were dead and buried, threatened to come bursting forth. He instinctively smiled at her; one of the very few times he had felt like smiling in his life. The look that she gave him killed the smile, as suddenly as it had appeared on his lips. It was a hard, cold look that froze him in his tracks, and made him regret his decision instantly. A thousand thoughts came to his mind. Maybe, she was one of those who had guys smiling at her all the time, in an attempt at unsolicited friendship, and the experience had made her wary towards them. Or maybe, her over-protective mother had warned her against smiling strangers. Whatever the reason, he felt strangely jilted, as if he had been spurned by a close friend, which surprised him, since she was a stranger, who he had met just a few minutes earlier. He instantly termed her a snob, and banished all thoughts of her from his mind, as he followed the photographer into the inner room to get his pictures taken.
When he walked out after a few minutes, the girl was gone. He however, noticed something that, captivated by the presence of the girl, he had initially failed to. There were pictures of the girl strung on every wall, with a brilliant smile lighting up her face, in each and every picture. "Just like I thought. A model, who probably has hundreds, following her every move. Why would she smile at a nobody like me?", he thought morosely as he turned to walk out of the studio.
However, he felt he had to know who the girl, who had so influenced him was, and retraced his steps. Very reluctantly, he pointed up at the picture and asked the shop assistant about her.
The man beamed up at him and said,"Aaah..I see, you have been taken in by the smile too. Not surprising. She would have been so happy to see someone appreciate her for that. You see, she is quite Blind".
Read more...
8 years working variously as a cleaner, a waiter, and a cook, at the Udupi restaurant at the corner of the street, had left him with enough, to make a trip to Dubai, where an uncle, had promised him a job. The hope of seeing his mother lead a comfortable life, was enough incentive for Raghav to accept his offer. Once the decision was taken, the days leading up to his departure flew in a flurry of activities. There were provisions to be bought, relatives to be informed and all the documents to be readied before he was to board the plane. The last requirement was the one, that found him at the photographer`s dingy studio, on a balmy Sunday evening. The last time he had stepped into this studio was during happier times, when as a kid, he had come here with his father. There had been a contest on Children`s day, where the cutest kid would have his picture published in the newspaper and his father had decided to send his pictures to the editor. That day, eating the cotton candy, when he had his father all to himself, had been the happiest of his young life. He felt a lump in his throat, as all those childhood memories came flooding back, and he had to hastily blink back tears. It was as he was in the act of composing himself that he saw Her.
There she stood at the counter talking to the shop assistant, her hair billowing in the breeze of the rickety table fan, that stood in the corner. She had the most innocent face he had seen on a girl ever, the kind of face that makes you feel protective towards a person. She was dressed in a Salwar Kameez, and the aura of simplicity surrounding her,seemed to make her face glow. As the door closed behind him, she turned in his direction. One look at her, took his breath away. All those feelings, which he had thought were dead and buried, threatened to come bursting forth. He instinctively smiled at her; one of the very few times he had felt like smiling in his life. The look that she gave him killed the smile, as suddenly as it had appeared on his lips. It was a hard, cold look that froze him in his tracks, and made him regret his decision instantly. A thousand thoughts came to his mind. Maybe, she was one of those who had guys smiling at her all the time, in an attempt at unsolicited friendship, and the experience had made her wary towards them. Or maybe, her over-protective mother had warned her against smiling strangers. Whatever the reason, he felt strangely jilted, as if he had been spurned by a close friend, which surprised him, since she was a stranger, who he had met just a few minutes earlier. He instantly termed her a snob, and banished all thoughts of her from his mind, as he followed the photographer into the inner room to get his pictures taken.
When he walked out after a few minutes, the girl was gone. He however, noticed something that, captivated by the presence of the girl, he had initially failed to. There were pictures of the girl strung on every wall, with a brilliant smile lighting up her face, in each and every picture. "Just like I thought. A model, who probably has hundreds, following her every move. Why would she smile at a nobody like me?", he thought morosely as he turned to walk out of the studio.
However, he felt he had to know who the girl, who had so influenced him was, and retraced his steps. Very reluctantly, he pointed up at the picture and asked the shop assistant about her.
The man beamed up at him and said,"Aaah..I see, you have been taken in by the smile too. Not surprising. She would have been so happy to see someone appreciate her for that. You see, she is quite Blind".
Read more...
Friday, May 28, 2010
Cat-atonic
Know what? Napolean Bonaparte and me have something in common. How I wish I could tell you, that we both believe that there is no word such as 'Impossible' in our dictionaries. Unlike Mr.Bonaparte however, who must have referred a French dictionary, before he said that, mine has, not just 'Impossible', but also 'Improbable', for good measure. No! What I am referring to is something that I am not proud of, and which Napolean would most definitely not have been proud of - Ailurophobia.
The fear of cats, is something that seems to have afflicted me ever since my trip to Coorg recently, where a very daring cat(or was it a small tiger), probably mistook me for a mouse(I guess, the capybara is no longer the world`s largest rodent).When the most strenuous bit of exercise you have ever indulged in, involves a walk from the comforts of your couch to the dining table, you can be rest assured that even the most comfortable of walks will leave you with a gargantuan appetite. So, here I was after one such day, looking forward to pamper myself with the delicious, Chicken curry, redolent with spices, which had been prepared for us by our hosts at the lovely homestay we were put up at. The setting for the meal would have pleased the best of butlers in terms of its aesthetics. There were spoons and forks and knives of various sizes. Now, I`m not a boor,but show me one person, who can manage to use all that cutlery, when he`s truly, truly hungry and I`ll eat my spoon. All those people who are shown on TV delicately nibbling at the delectable spread laid out in front of them, with their forks and chopsticks, would have had a large tandoori chicken, behind-the-scenes. If the hostess expected us to use these, in the face of the overwhelmingly tempting aroma wafting all around our noses, she was sorely disappointed.
Only 1 in 20 attempts that a tiger makes at hunting a prey ends in success. So, when you see a tiger eat the small fawn that it has killed, suppress that urge to berate the tiger, and try to understand the value of that meal. Now, put 4 hungry guys in place of tigers, and replace the fawn with a more palatable chicken curry, and you get the picture. We tore into that chicken with a ferocity that would have made any self-respecting tiger proud, and probably the smallest member of the family, decided to try his luck with his two-legged relatives.
There sat this creature, with beady looking eyes, unwaveringly staring at me, as I gnawed on the chicken leg, mewing piteously and urging me to part with a small part of my meal. I was too busy, however to understand the dynamics of cat-behaviour and blissfully closed my eyes to the threat at hand. The realization that something was amiss, came to me, when a small part of my brain, warned me that the stage for pleading was long past, indicated by the lack of mewing. I looked down, just in time to see the crouching cat, take a giant leap, straight at me, and more specifically at my paw..err..my hand, which at that moment was about to relegate the chicken leg to oblivion. The pandemonium that followed, was unmatched in the history of that pristine land called Coorg, and ensured that the migratory pattern of a few species of birds, startled by the commotion, was altered forever. Thanks to my incredible reflexes however, that usually come about when I see a threat to my food resources, I managed to evade the feral, feline fury and saved both the chicken and the human from the clutches of the devil`s own, which was promptly whisked away by the devils.
Though, the first instinct of that famous 'Fight, or Flight' mechanism asserted itself right there, in that land of the brave Kodavas, I find that, back here, in 'Namma Bengalooru', the second instinct seems to have crept in with a vengeance. The sight of a cat, crouching is enough to send me scurrying for cover, which is exactly what I am going to do now, as I see one right behind my chair. Meaow...sorry, Ciao.
Read more...
The fear of cats, is something that seems to have afflicted me ever since my trip to Coorg recently, where a very daring cat(or was it a small tiger), probably mistook me for a mouse(I guess, the capybara is no longer the world`s largest rodent).When the most strenuous bit of exercise you have ever indulged in, involves a walk from the comforts of your couch to the dining table, you can be rest assured that even the most comfortable of walks will leave you with a gargantuan appetite. So, here I was after one such day, looking forward to pamper myself with the delicious, Chicken curry, redolent with spices, which had been prepared for us by our hosts at the lovely homestay we were put up at. The setting for the meal would have pleased the best of butlers in terms of its aesthetics. There were spoons and forks and knives of various sizes. Now, I`m not a boor,but show me one person, who can manage to use all that cutlery, when he`s truly, truly hungry and I`ll eat my spoon. All those people who are shown on TV delicately nibbling at the delectable spread laid out in front of them, with their forks and chopsticks, would have had a large tandoori chicken, behind-the-scenes. If the hostess expected us to use these, in the face of the overwhelmingly tempting aroma wafting all around our noses, she was sorely disappointed.
Only 1 in 20 attempts that a tiger makes at hunting a prey ends in success. So, when you see a tiger eat the small fawn that it has killed, suppress that urge to berate the tiger, and try to understand the value of that meal. Now, put 4 hungry guys in place of tigers, and replace the fawn with a more palatable chicken curry, and you get the picture. We tore into that chicken with a ferocity that would have made any self-respecting tiger proud, and probably the smallest member of the family, decided to try his luck with his two-legged relatives.
There sat this creature, with beady looking eyes, unwaveringly staring at me, as I gnawed on the chicken leg, mewing piteously and urging me to part with a small part of my meal. I was too busy, however to understand the dynamics of cat-behaviour and blissfully closed my eyes to the threat at hand. The realization that something was amiss, came to me, when a small part of my brain, warned me that the stage for pleading was long past, indicated by the lack of mewing. I looked down, just in time to see the crouching cat, take a giant leap, straight at me, and more specifically at my paw..err..my hand, which at that moment was about to relegate the chicken leg to oblivion. The pandemonium that followed, was unmatched in the history of that pristine land called Coorg, and ensured that the migratory pattern of a few species of birds, startled by the commotion, was altered forever. Thanks to my incredible reflexes however, that usually come about when I see a threat to my food resources, I managed to evade the feral, feline fury and saved both the chicken and the human from the clutches of the devil`s own, which was promptly whisked away by the devils.
Though, the first instinct of that famous 'Fight, or Flight' mechanism asserted itself right there, in that land of the brave Kodavas, I find that, back here, in 'Namma Bengalooru', the second instinct seems to have crept in with a vengeance. The sight of a cat, crouching is enough to send me scurrying for cover, which is exactly what I am going to do now, as I see one right behind my chair. Meaow...sorry, Ciao.
Read more...
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Hindi, Holi and Hilarity in Delhi
According to me, the best times of a person`s childhood are the years between age 6 to 12, before the pressure of board exams and the like set in. I spent the first 3 years of the said time period in Delhi, where my father was posted at that time. I can safely say that the years spent there, were the best of my life. I hardly remember having done any sort of activity that could be remotely related to what is called 'Studying'. The only time I did have to strain myself was when it came to learning Hindi, a language over whose mastery, I prided myself, since I was the only one amongst my group of friends in Mangalore, who could say, "Tumhaara naam kya hai?"(what is your name?). A week in Delhi, was more than sufficient to disabuse me of this notion, as I realised that the conversation did need to continue after learning a person`s name for the umpteenth time. That is how I found myself at the doorstep of Ms.Ahuja, a lady who lived next door, who gave private tuitions, but who I secretly liked to call, Ms.Oucha.
Ms.Ahuja, got the nickname, because she delighted in twisting your ear till you reached the stage where you felt that the ear did not belong to you anymore. She was an unmarried,unsmiling lady who stayed in a house with her mother, who was equally grumpy and a whole lot of cats. It was the kind of house that you`d call spooky, at the best of times.Add to that, learning a language that was becoming increasingly difficult to master, and you had a house that was downright terrifying. I would concoct all kinds of illnesses to avoid setting foot in that house, but there are only so many diseases a 6-year old can come up with, which his mom can`t see through. Every evening therefore, saw me reluctantly go over to her house to learn a language, that I was starting to heartily dislike.
Ms.Ahuja, was one of those ladies who believed she was Saraswati-incarnate. There were kids of all ages, learning all the subjects around a large rectangular table, with the Mataji hovering in the background. I tried to be at the far end of the table most of the times, to avoid giving more credibility to Ms.Ahuja`s nickname. The other kids however soon saw through my ploy and thereafter, a mad scramble for those seats ensued, which meant that bony kid that I was, I had no other option but to be at arms length from those ear-twisting tentacles.
I was a real oddity to the other kids. While they were learning Maths, Science and English, I was there to learn Hindi. Hindi...Hindi??? Hindi, was supposed to be something you started speaking as soon as you learnt to talk, wasn`t it? However, inspite of the initial hiccups, a genuine mutual dislike for the teacher was sufficient to transcend all the linguistic barriers, and I soon made a lot of friends, with whom I used a language that revolved around the sacred mantra, "Tumhara naam kya hai", with a liberal sprinkling of my own mother tongue Konkani, which thankfully was quickly picked up by all the kids there.
Gradually, I made a lot of friends in the neighbourhood. However, just like for every Harry Potter, there is a Draco Malfoy; for every Batman, there is a joker; for me it was Tarun. This fellow, rebuffed all my offers of friendship and delighted in being mean to me. Not just that, he would spread slander about me to my newly acquired comrades-in-arms, thus endangering the sanctity of our brotherhood. I was sad at this development, but I gradually reconciled myself to the fact that there was nothing to be done for it.
In the meantime, the atrocities of Ms.Ahuja were on the rise. Just when our ears had got inured to her ministrations, she decided to improvise and bought herself a weapon;a shining steel ruler, that was leaving us all with grievous injuries at the end of each class. We had to strike back somehow. But, what could we do and more importantly who would do it?
Very soon, it was time for Holi. I was terribly excited as I had never celebrated the festival of colours before. The day before Holi, I prepared my arsenal of balloons filled with coloured water, to be thrown on passersby from my flat on the 2nd floor.
There are certain rules you need to follow during Holi in Delhi. One of them, is that you never wear your best clothes if you are going to venture out of your house, since you will invariably be targeted for a drenching. Ms.Ahuja, chose to overlook this piece of wisdom, which proved to be her undoing. Just like a tiger lurking in the bushes, I was waiting for an unsuspecting target, and I was presented with the sight of her coming back with a set of freshly laundered clothes from the 'Dhobi' down the road. Now, I swear on everything that is evil, that I always meant that balloon to land just in front or immediately behind her. However, the balloon landed bang on top of her head, painting both her and the pristine white clothes, in a garish red.
There she stood in the middle of the road, spluttering and gasping. Before she could regain her composure however, I had the presence of mind to duck inside my house. So, when she finally did look up, who does she see peering at her from the first floor?...If you said Tarun, kudos to you for getting it right.
Needless to say, Ms.Ahuja, who in addition to being an expert at chaste hindi, also knew the colourful aspect of the language, gave Tarun an earful. What about me you ask? I became an instant hit amongst the kids of the neighbourhood, since I had got sweet revenge, though totally unintended. Tarun had been tamed, and Ms.Ahuja bested. Talk about killing two birds with one stone..err..balloon.
Read more...
Ms.Ahuja, got the nickname, because she delighted in twisting your ear till you reached the stage where you felt that the ear did not belong to you anymore. She was an unmarried,unsmiling lady who stayed in a house with her mother, who was equally grumpy and a whole lot of cats. It was the kind of house that you`d call spooky, at the best of times.Add to that, learning a language that was becoming increasingly difficult to master, and you had a house that was downright terrifying. I would concoct all kinds of illnesses to avoid setting foot in that house, but there are only so many diseases a 6-year old can come up with, which his mom can`t see through. Every evening therefore, saw me reluctantly go over to her house to learn a language, that I was starting to heartily dislike.
Ms.Ahuja, was one of those ladies who believed she was Saraswati-incarnate. There were kids of all ages, learning all the subjects around a large rectangular table, with the Mataji hovering in the background. I tried to be at the far end of the table most of the times, to avoid giving more credibility to Ms.Ahuja`s nickname. The other kids however soon saw through my ploy and thereafter, a mad scramble for those seats ensued, which meant that bony kid that I was, I had no other option but to be at arms length from those ear-twisting tentacles.
I was a real oddity to the other kids. While they were learning Maths, Science and English, I was there to learn Hindi. Hindi...Hindi??? Hindi, was supposed to be something you started speaking as soon as you learnt to talk, wasn`t it? However, inspite of the initial hiccups, a genuine mutual dislike for the teacher was sufficient to transcend all the linguistic barriers, and I soon made a lot of friends, with whom I used a language that revolved around the sacred mantra, "Tumhara naam kya hai", with a liberal sprinkling of my own mother tongue Konkani, which thankfully was quickly picked up by all the kids there.
Gradually, I made a lot of friends in the neighbourhood. However, just like for every Harry Potter, there is a Draco Malfoy; for every Batman, there is a joker; for me it was Tarun. This fellow, rebuffed all my offers of friendship and delighted in being mean to me. Not just that, he would spread slander about me to my newly acquired comrades-in-arms, thus endangering the sanctity of our brotherhood. I was sad at this development, but I gradually reconciled myself to the fact that there was nothing to be done for it.
In the meantime, the atrocities of Ms.Ahuja were on the rise. Just when our ears had got inured to her ministrations, she decided to improvise and bought herself a weapon;a shining steel ruler, that was leaving us all with grievous injuries at the end of each class. We had to strike back somehow. But, what could we do and more importantly who would do it?
Very soon, it was time for Holi. I was terribly excited as I had never celebrated the festival of colours before. The day before Holi, I prepared my arsenal of balloons filled with coloured water, to be thrown on passersby from my flat on the 2nd floor.
There are certain rules you need to follow during Holi in Delhi. One of them, is that you never wear your best clothes if you are going to venture out of your house, since you will invariably be targeted for a drenching. Ms.Ahuja, chose to overlook this piece of wisdom, which proved to be her undoing. Just like a tiger lurking in the bushes, I was waiting for an unsuspecting target, and I was presented with the sight of her coming back with a set of freshly laundered clothes from the 'Dhobi' down the road. Now, I swear on everything that is evil, that I always meant that balloon to land just in front or immediately behind her. However, the balloon landed bang on top of her head, painting both her and the pristine white clothes, in a garish red.
There she stood in the middle of the road, spluttering and gasping. Before she could regain her composure however, I had the presence of mind to duck inside my house. So, when she finally did look up, who does she see peering at her from the first floor?...If you said Tarun, kudos to you for getting it right.
Needless to say, Ms.Ahuja, who in addition to being an expert at chaste hindi, also knew the colourful aspect of the language, gave Tarun an earful. What about me you ask? I became an instant hit amongst the kids of the neighbourhood, since I had got sweet revenge, though totally unintended. Tarun had been tamed, and Ms.Ahuja bested. Talk about killing two birds with one stone..err..balloon.
Read more...
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
A Filmy reunion
30th April, 2010, 0215Hrs - I wearily trudge to my bed and lie down, after having watched the inaugural matches of the T20 world cup. Sleep assails me immediately, and I willingly welcome the sensation of nothingness that clouds my brain. On a normal day, even an earthquake wouldn`t have roused me from such a deep slumber before 1200. But, 1st May, 2010 was not any other day. It was a day I had been looking forward to, for a very long time. It was a day, when I was to meet my friends from school after a very long time.
I had approached the first get-together quite gingerly, making small conversation politely, sizing up people, who I had last seen in school uniform, may years ago; exactly like you would with a stranger you meet at the airport lounge. By the time, we had dispersed after an awesome time at the resort, the ice had been truly and completely broken, the formalities done away with, and the old, ribald nicknames we used to have for each other were doing the rounds quite freely. An indication that the strangers had turned into buddies, if ever there was one.
This time, however, was different. I had got to know them all well, in the days after the reunion and was looking for an excuse to meet up. So, when Babitha suggested a re-union for the group, I was raring to go. After lengthy deliberations and a lot of mails doing the rounds, regarding the date and the venue that would be convenient for most of us, we zeroed in on Innovative film city, on Mysore road.
We decided that we would all meet at the Rajarajeshwari arch at 8:30AM, from where we would proceed to the venue where Gautam and Meghachandra would join us. Me and Vasi, had decided to go to Pradeep`s house in Banashankari, from where we would take Pradeep`s car to IFC. Things didn`t exactly go as per schedule, and by the time we left Pradeep`s house, it was already 8:15. Pradeep, called up Babitha and told her we would reach the arch, in 10 minutes, which made my heart skip a beat. The only way we could make the deadline was if - (a) Rajarajeshwari arch was closer to Pradeep`s house than I thought or (b) Pradeep was planning to fly his car. I realized pretty quickly, that I wasn`t geographically challenged and that (b) was looking like a realistic option. We however couldn`t take off, owing to the traffic on Mysore road, and Vasistha was left with the task of placating an irate Babitha who called us a little while later, a task which he handled admirably well, by telling her that we were looking for a parking spot at 'Kadumane' restaurant where the first group had moved to, for breakfast. By the time we reached the place, and if the excuse had been valid, we would have found a parking spot on the moon.
After a quick bite and some catching up, we decided to hit the road, when we were joined by Gautam who had come all the way from Tumkur for the re-union. The first thing I noticed about him, was the accent, which has a distinct Yankee twang to it now, and the obvious passion, he has for pediatrics. There was an impromptu Q&A session between Narendra and Gautam, to which I was privy. It was like watching a show on the Discovery channel.
We reached IFC at 10:15, bought the tickets and entered the park. Manjith immediately took out his camera, and started clicking pictures, which can make even a plain Joe like me, look like a million bucks..err..not a million..maybe a thousand bucks, which makes me reiterate the fact that Manjith should take photography more seriously. He, obviously has a flair for the thing. We had an award ceremony, where the Waterzz award, was presented to various candidates, some for obvious talent, and some because the candidates wouldn`t take NO for an answer. As you can see, posing for the camera, is not my forte.
Yeah..baby..yeah
Finally..my talent has been recognized
Err..There has been a mistake. Take it back.
One more award..ho hum..so boring
Thank you..for making the right choice
What took them so long?
Aiyyo rama...Gotta pose again!
Yaakappa ee awaaedu?
The mirror maze was the first attraction we visited. I told the group to split up, since it would be more fun that way than following each other, a decision I was to regret when I was hopelessly lost. The group, which was waiting for me on the outside, was seriously contemplating, sending a search party, when I stumbled out, totally disoriented, and having set a record for the longest time spent inside the maze. Poora paisa vasool, I say.
The sun was beating down ferociously by then and we decided to rest a while in the shade and indulge in some tomfoolery. Aditi, is obviously the photographer`s muse, because she ends up posing for invisible cameramen as well, as is evident from this snap.
'The Ripley`s believe it or not' was the next attraction on the agenda, and ended up charming the entire group. 'The laughing Buddha' was a huge hit, with everyone wanting to pose with him.
As was the fattest lady in the world, who apparently wasn`t fat enough for Aditi. The closest we came to equaling the lady, was when me, Gautam and Manjith got onto the scale, though Manjith`s contribution to the cause was negligible. :-).
Shock..lagaa..aaa..aaa..
Aditi on a feeding spree..this time offering herself
By the time, we came out of Ripley`s, the heat was unbearable, and we all decided to cool down and click more pictures, this time of our feet. What do you know? I realized that I could pose very well, as long as the shot was below the knee-level.
There was intense debate after that as to whether we should visit the haunted mansion or not. We decided to take a vote on this, and the majority was of the opinion, that we should. Aditi, tried to calm her nerves, by trampling on the grave of Ralph Lee, and coming away unscathed. Babitha had a different modus operandi, as she tried to strike a deal with the devil to leave her alone by cosying up to him.
However, when push came to shove, they wanted the entire arsenal of boys and girls to be around them, which wasn`t possible, considering only 4 were allowed in at a time. After entering the house, however, and seeing the pitiable sight of the zombies and the ghouls, we regained our composure and started posing with the ghosts. Vasi and me,however, were not as brave as the rest, as we had a 'Darr' moment, that led to a 'Dostana'. :-)
in fact, we soon realized that we were scaring the denizens of the house, with our antics.
Aditi and Gautam, went so far as to snatch a bite out of a ghostly banquet., which was a cue for us to head out for lunch.
We were joined by Meghachandra at lunch, who is a lawyer by profession. We had quite an eclectic mix if you ask me, with a doctor, a lawyer and a marine engineer. We had a good time, making Vasistha divulge the details of how he met the girl, he is due to get married to, and the single ones amongst us, were keen to know how the conversation with the girl had gone, considering that we might soon have to go through the same, unnerving experience.
After lunch, we had a taste of what watching a movie would have meant, before the advent of glitzy multiplexes and the like. With an option of 'Benchu, kurchi or nela', we watched a 10-minute screening of 'Sholay', complete with the cat-calling and whistling that made it a truly rustic and rowdy experience. It was so much fun singing along with Jai and Veeru, to the tunes of 'Yeh Dosti...' or aping the menacing Gabbar with 'Kitne Aadmi the?'. Meghachandra also decided to try his hand at an alternate career option here.
The movie experience really had the creative juices flowing freely, if the wackiness of the next set of pictures is any indication. We realized that we had our own set of Charlie`s angels in Vidya, Babitha and Aditi, who could kick butt just as well as the original ones.
It took us ages to get the pictures of the gang sprouting wings - either because my camera wasn`t quick enough to capture the winged ones or because the winged ones were too sluggish to take off.
After a lot of masti, we finally came out of IFC and bid a fond farewell to Gautam and Meghachandra, who had other commitments.
The rest of the group made its way to Pradeep`s house, where we were treated to delicious Onion Bajjis and mango juice. After the sapping heat, this was heaven. Pradeep also showed us pictures, of his travels to various countries and life on a ship. This fellow has been to so many countries that it is easier to get an answer to which countries he has not visited. Man, am I jealous or what!!! Must be such an exciting life.
With that the curtains were drawn on what had been a fantabulous day. The only grouse, seemed to be that the response wasn`t as enthusiastic as we would have wanted it to be, which hopefully will change when the next reunion comes around. By the time I reached home, I had a terrible headache, with the lack of sleep making its presence felt with a vengeance. I, however, didn`t mind it one bit, since I had got to spend the day with a perfectly awesome group of Buds. Kudos to ye all.
Read more...
I had approached the first get-together quite gingerly, making small conversation politely, sizing up people, who I had last seen in school uniform, may years ago; exactly like you would with a stranger you meet at the airport lounge. By the time, we had dispersed after an awesome time at the resort, the ice had been truly and completely broken, the formalities done away with, and the old, ribald nicknames we used to have for each other were doing the rounds quite freely. An indication that the strangers had turned into buddies, if ever there was one.
This time, however, was different. I had got to know them all well, in the days after the reunion and was looking for an excuse to meet up. So, when Babitha suggested a re-union for the group, I was raring to go. After lengthy deliberations and a lot of mails doing the rounds, regarding the date and the venue that would be convenient for most of us, we zeroed in on Innovative film city, on Mysore road.
We decided that we would all meet at the Rajarajeshwari arch at 8:30AM, from where we would proceed to the venue where Gautam and Meghachandra would join us. Me and Vasi, had decided to go to Pradeep`s house in Banashankari, from where we would take Pradeep`s car to IFC. Things didn`t exactly go as per schedule, and by the time we left Pradeep`s house, it was already 8:15. Pradeep, called up Babitha and told her we would reach the arch, in 10 minutes, which made my heart skip a beat. The only way we could make the deadline was if - (a) Rajarajeshwari arch was closer to Pradeep`s house than I thought or (b) Pradeep was planning to fly his car. I realized pretty quickly, that I wasn`t geographically challenged and that (b) was looking like a realistic option. We however couldn`t take off, owing to the traffic on Mysore road, and Vasistha was left with the task of placating an irate Babitha who called us a little while later, a task which he handled admirably well, by telling her that we were looking for a parking spot at 'Kadumane' restaurant where the first group had moved to, for breakfast. By the time we reached the place, and if the excuse had been valid, we would have found a parking spot on the moon.
After a quick bite and some catching up, we decided to hit the road, when we were joined by Gautam who had come all the way from Tumkur for the re-union. The first thing I noticed about him, was the accent, which has a distinct Yankee twang to it now, and the obvious passion, he has for pediatrics. There was an impromptu Q&A session between Narendra and Gautam, to which I was privy. It was like watching a show on the Discovery channel.
We reached IFC at 10:15, bought the tickets and entered the park. Manjith immediately took out his camera, and started clicking pictures, which can make even a plain Joe like me, look like a million bucks..err..not a million..maybe a thousand bucks, which makes me reiterate the fact that Manjith should take photography more seriously. He, obviously has a flair for the thing. We had an award ceremony, where the Waterzz award, was presented to various candidates, some for obvious talent, and some because the candidates wouldn`t take NO for an answer. As you can see, posing for the camera, is not my forte.
Yeah..baby..yeah
Finally..my talent has been recognized
Err..There has been a mistake. Take it back.
One more award..ho hum..so boring
Thank you..for making the right choice
What took them so long?
Aiyyo rama...Gotta pose again!
Yaakappa ee awaaedu?
The mirror maze was the first attraction we visited. I told the group to split up, since it would be more fun that way than following each other, a decision I was to regret when I was hopelessly lost. The group, which was waiting for me on the outside, was seriously contemplating, sending a search party, when I stumbled out, totally disoriented, and having set a record for the longest time spent inside the maze. Poora paisa vasool, I say.
The sun was beating down ferociously by then and we decided to rest a while in the shade and indulge in some tomfoolery. Aditi, is obviously the photographer`s muse, because she ends up posing for invisible cameramen as well, as is evident from this snap.
'The Ripley`s believe it or not' was the next attraction on the agenda, and ended up charming the entire group. 'The laughing Buddha' was a huge hit, with everyone wanting to pose with him.
As was the fattest lady in the world, who apparently wasn`t fat enough for Aditi. The closest we came to equaling the lady, was when me, Gautam and Manjith got onto the scale, though Manjith`s contribution to the cause was negligible. :-).
Shock..lagaa..aaa..aaa..
Aditi on a feeding spree..this time offering herself
By the time, we came out of Ripley`s, the heat was unbearable, and we all decided to cool down and click more pictures, this time of our feet. What do you know? I realized that I could pose very well, as long as the shot was below the knee-level.
There was intense debate after that as to whether we should visit the haunted mansion or not. We decided to take a vote on this, and the majority was of the opinion, that we should. Aditi, tried to calm her nerves, by trampling on the grave of Ralph Lee, and coming away unscathed. Babitha had a different modus operandi, as she tried to strike a deal with the devil to leave her alone by cosying up to him.
However, when push came to shove, they wanted the entire arsenal of boys and girls to be around them, which wasn`t possible, considering only 4 were allowed in at a time. After entering the house, however, and seeing the pitiable sight of the zombies and the ghouls, we regained our composure and started posing with the ghosts. Vasi and me,however, were not as brave as the rest, as we had a 'Darr' moment, that led to a 'Dostana'. :-)
in fact, we soon realized that we were scaring the denizens of the house, with our antics.
Aditi and Gautam, went so far as to snatch a bite out of a ghostly banquet., which was a cue for us to head out for lunch.
We were joined by Meghachandra at lunch, who is a lawyer by profession. We had quite an eclectic mix if you ask me, with a doctor, a lawyer and a marine engineer. We had a good time, making Vasistha divulge the details of how he met the girl, he is due to get married to, and the single ones amongst us, were keen to know how the conversation with the girl had gone, considering that we might soon have to go through the same, unnerving experience.
After lunch, we had a taste of what watching a movie would have meant, before the advent of glitzy multiplexes and the like. With an option of 'Benchu, kurchi or nela', we watched a 10-minute screening of 'Sholay', complete with the cat-calling and whistling that made it a truly rustic and rowdy experience. It was so much fun singing along with Jai and Veeru, to the tunes of 'Yeh Dosti...' or aping the menacing Gabbar with 'Kitne Aadmi the?'. Meghachandra also decided to try his hand at an alternate career option here.
The movie experience really had the creative juices flowing freely, if the wackiness of the next set of pictures is any indication. We realized that we had our own set of Charlie`s angels in Vidya, Babitha and Aditi, who could kick butt just as well as the original ones.
It took us ages to get the pictures of the gang sprouting wings - either because my camera wasn`t quick enough to capture the winged ones or because the winged ones were too sluggish to take off.
After a lot of masti, we finally came out of IFC and bid a fond farewell to Gautam and Meghachandra, who had other commitments.
The rest of the group made its way to Pradeep`s house, where we were treated to delicious Onion Bajjis and mango juice. After the sapping heat, this was heaven. Pradeep also showed us pictures, of his travels to various countries and life on a ship. This fellow has been to so many countries that it is easier to get an answer to which countries he has not visited. Man, am I jealous or what!!! Must be such an exciting life.
With that the curtains were drawn on what had been a fantabulous day. The only grouse, seemed to be that the response wasn`t as enthusiastic as we would have wanted it to be, which hopefully will change when the next reunion comes around. By the time I reached home, I had a terrible headache, with the lack of sleep making its presence felt with a vengeance. I, however, didn`t mind it one bit, since I had got to spend the day with a perfectly awesome group of Buds. Kudos to ye all.
Read more...
Friday, February 26, 2010
Certified-"material"
It`s exam time! No, I`m not talking about 6-year old Kukku, from down the street, who will take the first exam of his life, or his mother who will also take the first of many proxy-exams to follow in the near future. I`m talking about my cubicle-mates. It is the certification season, and prometric centres have their hands full taking calls from harried employees, wanting to be "certified". The fact that all of the subject matter will be flushed out of the system, seconds after the accomplishment of the mission, namely, getting that 70% against your name, hardly seems to matter.
I look to my right, and see someone poring over a "manual"(that is a polite term, for what most of us use, in order to clear a certification; which if we were to adopt the time-honoured method of "studying the material", would take years to complete), for certification A. If human beings had the ability to set a thing on fire with a piercing gaze, the monitor would have been reduced to ashes, hours ago. To my left, is a candidate, gazing so intently at the monitor, that the slightest twitch from me, elicits a furious scowl. Even as I type this, I`m trying my best to ensure that the keyboard doesn`t rattle too much, and disturb the great Yogi`s meditation.
Having certified employees, no doubt adds to the competency of a company. Forcing them to take it up, using promotions as a bait, is something that I find really hard to digest. I really don`t know why I am wasting time, typing this gibberish here, when I have a certification to take up next week. Somebody, please help me look for my "manual"!!!
Read more...
I look to my right, and see someone poring over a "manual"(that is a polite term, for what most of us use, in order to clear a certification; which if we were to adopt the time-honoured method of "studying the material", would take years to complete), for certification A. If human beings had the ability to set a thing on fire with a piercing gaze, the monitor would have been reduced to ashes, hours ago. To my left, is a candidate, gazing so intently at the monitor, that the slightest twitch from me, elicits a furious scowl. Even as I type this, I`m trying my best to ensure that the keyboard doesn`t rattle too much, and disturb the great Yogi`s meditation.
Having certified employees, no doubt adds to the competency of a company. Forcing them to take it up, using promotions as a bait, is something that I find really hard to digest. I really don`t know why I am wasting time, typing this gibberish here, when I have a certification to take up next week. Somebody, please help me look for my "manual"!!!
Read more...
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