Radio. FM.

After ages (it seems like that, can't help it) I listened to some FM in the unlikeliest of places - a BEST bus in Mumbai! (Some of those buses even have small screens playing music videos... beat that!) And do the FMs play music? All they do is talk talk talk and ... TALK! However, it felt good...something new after a long time.

Strange as it may seem now, but I was an avid FM listener (read: Radio Mirchi) way back when I'd started Junior College, some 5-6 years ago. I'd this new portable Radio player gifted by someone which had found a permanent abode in the form of my trouser pocket! (The only difference now is that it's been replaced by an iPod.) So much was I into Radio Mirchi those days, for sheer novelty, that I even managed to use my music-listening and identifying-them-from-their-intro-music skills, and my word-spelling prowess to good effect - twice winning the then latest movie tickets at Inox through "Kan-test" and then again a Malaka Spice dining voucher plus a "Goody-bag" through the Spelling test, conducted by a certain RJ Karma and RJ Señorita respectively!

So coming back in the present - there was this show "Kamla ka Hamla"! Whoever has given the voice... it's mind-blowing! And then there was "Sud – Hansi ke Phooaare with Sudarshan!" Call me Sud, C'mon Baby Chill…" :-D (later learned that Sud is also on Radio Mirchi, Pune - heard him again and loved it... even the lamest of PJs was good enough for a hearty laugh, thanks to the way he speaks!)

Though it again popped up the question in my mind: Whatever has happened to the lyrics department of Bollywood? Who are the lyricists now? Where's Gulzar and his likes? Heard these 'chartbusters' one after the other - Himesh Reshamiya nasaling "Tandoori Nights, If loving you is wrong, I don't wanna be right"! and Twist... n we Twist... (the guy just goes on and on with the same) on the Nagin been from Love Aaj Kal. Pathetic :-(

Will We Ever Learn?

I'm back to my bickering; can't help it much. When I see nonsense and I'm not allowed to do what I'm supposed to, it bothers me.

Traffic and the Desi attitude: By far, I find this to be the most annoying one. Everybody wants to go first. Picture this – where there's traffic on one end, all the vehicles from the other end will just cram up wherever there's space. Numbskulls don't realise that it's clogging the whole freaking road. The point is "Even if I don't get it it's fine, but I need to ensure that YOU don't get it." And to do this, we'll break signals, bribe the Mamas, run over innocent people. Killing people here is not that big a crime if you got the power of 'Vitamin M'. Again the same shit starts: buy witnesses, kill them or destroy them, bribe babus... somewhere I feel David Scott Mustaine of Megadeth had India in mind when he was writing Killing is my business...

Mob mentality: This you can find everywhere. Where there are queues, mob mentality makes its ugly presence felt. Simplest of all examples is lunchtime at a Cafeteria or better a Dining Hall - instead of behaving in a disciplined way and waiting for my turn, I'll just pounce on the guy who's serving food. I'll just shove my plate into his face and scream "Arrey ithe waadh na aadhi!". I'm not just alone there. There are scores and scores of hungry wolves who do this and this just scares the jeebies out of the poor guy on the other end.

Most popular examples of it being our weddings, functions and festivals. My due respects to everyone's sentiments, but just one thing. You book a hall or a hotel or a whatever; get inside that room and do whatever you feel like doing. Why block the roads with some band playing the lousiest of music and hamper traffic or steal one's peace of mind?

Senselessness in the name of God: One more thing now that I've opened this topic up - what's with this new Toran prakaran? which is on similar lines of a Ganapati miravnuk. Everywhere these days (Navratra) I see certain groups organizing unwarranted processions; the kitschy music going hand in hand leading to plenty of unnecessary headaches for the locals. And if that's in a way interlinked: when there's traffic, refer above.

On the hindsight, dear God, I feel sorry for you.

We'll never understand that one doesn't need policing to behave well. Simple fact - Money can buy you everything, but not the basic etiquette.

Movie Review: Kaminey

I know I'm pretty late doing a review for this movie with respect to its release and that most of you might have already seen it. The reason being that I myself got a chance to see it only yesterday.

Let me ask you something - when was the last time you came out of the theatre and raved about the performances of the cast after watching a Bollywood flick? Taare Zameen Par? Really? That long? Well, wait no more. With Kaminey, all of us can scream our guts out DHAN TE NAN!

The story revolves around two Kaminey, two identical twins played by Shahid Kapoor - the first is Guddu and the second Charlie. Guddu stammers while Charlie says "Mein pha ko pha bolta hoon"... It's about how they hate each other and the clichéd how-their-paths-cross. It's a crime drama with a killer combo of dark humour and violence.

The best part of this movie is that it can truly boast that each and every character does full justice to his/her role. To start-off with I was bowled over by Amole Gupte's performance as a crackpot politician Sunil Shekhar Bhope whose lines are suffixed with Jai Maharashtra (Amole Gupte is the same guy who wrote the wonderful screenplay for Taare Zameen Par and was initially going to direct it). The way he snaps "Aye Gap Re" reminded me of one of my friends who uses the same phrase whenever we devil him. My second favourite character in the movie was Chandan Roy Sanyal: Mikhail, Charlie's buddy. Nothing much to say here since he's bound to give a crisp performance considering he's a seasoned theatre actor. There have been talks of Charlie and Mikhail having gay shades in their characters (I'm leaving that to the sole discretion of the audience). Priyanka Chopra as Sweety was adorable with her Marathi lines; Tashi as the dope guy was typical. One very singular thing that I noticed was there were no background scores for some large portions of scenes. Nice. I liked it.

To be fair to the director of Vishal Bhardwaj's calibre, I'd expected this movie to be a completely different one; for the treatment if not for the storyline; peppered with Vishal Bhardwaj's own unique touch to it. Sticking with Vishal Bhardwaj, you happen to find his name in almost every crucial aspect of film making - screenplay, dialogues, music & background score, decent vocals in addition to direction! Gulzar's lyrics as always suit the movie. Pehli Baar Mohabbat sung by Mohit Chauhan tends to linger in your mind for quite a while.

Amidst all crap like Life Partner, Love Aaj Kal, Tere Sang (or whatever that was *YAWN*), Kaminey may not have the newest of plots, but it surely comes as a breathe of fresh air. So go watch it if you haven't and have fun.

Ravivar Sakal With Ajoba

The idea of this post germinated last weekend through a healthy chat-session-on-a-Sunday-morning-over-breakfast with one of my Ajobas on varied issues: including Social Networking (are we really networking?), Cricket (should Cricket=T20s today?), Investment in shares and The importance of exercise in today's sedentary lifestyle.

Needless to say I dominated him on the networking issue; Cricket was a clash-of-generations - he sticking to the Test form and I to the T20 form, each of us having valid reasons to support our choices. It was hardly a dialogue when it came to Shares and the Financial market, thanks to my limited knowledge in it contrary to Ajoba's. The discussion on the last subject veered into a completely different avenue, ultimately leading to the sub-topic of this post - Patents.

Ajoba was quick to point out -

First it was the 'Basmati' (Special type of Rice)

Then it was the 'Haldi' (Turmeric)

Then they were eyeing the Yog! (a.k.a. Yoga)

"Hats off to Uncle Sam!", exclaimed Ajoba. "They rule the world! During the time when those guys were trying to acquire the patent on Yoga, a certain news channel had been airing the news about the same since morning under the nonsense "Breaking News" banner. US companies had realised that there is a big money in those yogic contortions - say about $3 billion, each year :-) News sources said that the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office has issued around 150 yoga-related copyrights, approx. 100 patents on yoga accessories, and approx. 2000 yoga trademarks."

Great! What say?

Ajoba also said, "The Americans know how to make money in everything. For example, they introduced CMMI-types certifications so that they can make money while having fun watching the third world countries die to get certified. I secretly admire this quality of the world's greatest traders, salesmen & the businessmen."

"India has been giving away its knowledge to the world for free or at the dirt cheap rate. Yog (he hates it being called Yoga) is known to cure diseases which the modern medical science cannot cure; and that too, with simple breathing exercises. Indians believed that the knowledge should be given to the 'right persons' for free. We gave the ZERO to the world, for free!"

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After all this 'Dnyanat Bhar' from Ajoba, I believe that it's high time that we patent our own ZERO. Wow! What a great idea! India will own the world! No one will be able to count! Intel & AMD will have to reinvent their microprocessors! Anyone who wants to count beyond 9, will have to come on his/her knees to us for permission. Woo Hoo! :-D

…and we will proudly say, "We have contributed 'nothing' to the world!" ;-)

The chat-session-on-a-Sunday-morning-over-breakfast ended with a nice laugh :-)

[Fiction]: A Sound Effect

The same sound came at the same time every day. Stephanie heard the wisplike sound coming from behind the door of her newly-owned condo on the picturesque and serene Cat Island in the Bahamas.

The crockery, clattering spoons and the shiny knives were scattered all over the granite counter. She was sorting the sparkling cutlery and arranging them neatly when she realised that it was unusual. She stopped what she was doing and concentrated on the sound. The sound slowly grew in intensity and soon she felt as if it was coming from somewhere too near. Terrified, she quickly grabbed a sharp knife and started walking in the direction of the sound.

Stephanie realised she had started to sweat and also felt weaker only to realise the hot pot of tea going cold over the stove and the marmalade on the crispy toast turning soggy. She took deep breaths and kept walking toward the unknown source of the sound. She calculated the approximate distance separating her from it and wished if it could miraculously stop even before she reaches there. She looked at the new lace curtains flying high as if waltzing on one of Mozart's symphonies in her richly decorated living room. The potpourri started to scatter by the brush of curtains and she could smell some lavender, some rose and some jasmine. She walked carefully not to crush them and continued walking. A strong gush of wind blasted the windows open, and she turned back to notice the potpourri brutally scattered all over her precious Turkish rug. She noticed the mark the heavy marble table had left on the rug and spoilt its perfect artistry. She shirked her shoulder and sighed, gripping the knife even more tightly in her moist hands.

The sound weakened a wee bit; enough to allow Stephanie to relax a little, but she kept her pace and moved nevertheless. The sound was still emanating, though slightly improved, as she could now begin to identify the sound. She thought may be it was a crying kitten or a puppy but then realised it was too strong to be that of a young one. Moving one step closer she realised that it may be from a water-pipe leaking somewhere due to overflow. The grip on the knife soothed with this idea and she bravely moved further noticing a cobweb next to the wall clock at the same. The cobweb was not there on the stunning crimson wall when she had vacuum-cleaned the house yesterday morning. She made a point in her mind to find a good quality insect repellent when she goes next to the department store. Stephanie had to make friends to know the nearby good stores and places she can buy some plants for the verandah from.

That must be it, Stephanie thought - someone watering the plants with the sprinklers. But why would someone turn on the sprinkler in middle of the afternoon; you either do it fresh early in the morning or in the pleasant late evening. With all these thoughts purling in her mind, she realised that now it was hardly a couple of feet's distance to the door from where she was and that her sweating was profuse.

Knife clenched in her clasp and rejecting the notion of sprinklers or kittens or puppies, she pensively reached out for the door knob with her quivering free hand. Five, four, three, two, one and she turned the door knob...

"Honey, I'm home!"

... and at this sound she lost the grip and the knife fell on the floor making a bristling sound while scratching its glass hand.

Stephanie hugged him tightly, still transfixed over the entire episode, and cried while wetting his crisp cotton shirt.

[Fiction]: An Introduction

Authors ranging from Jeffrey Archer to Frederick Forsyth, from Robert Ludlum to Clive Cussler, from Tom Clancy to John Grisham, all have left me in awe with their work of fiction. More recently, Isaac Asimov and Roald Dahl have instilled in me the love for short-stories with their amazing twists and thrills. Even Archer and Forsyth have written some of the best short-stories.

Such has been the impact of all these writers on me that the thought of I, myself writing one day never ceased to occur. I'd been working on the same for a while now (seriously). Obviously it had to be a short-story, but somehow couldn't get the kick on how to start, what to write about, what the theme would be, etc. Fortunately, selecting the genre wasn't a tough task; it had to be one of these: Thriller, Suspense, Mystery or Adventure - my favourites.

So, finally after some cerebration and 'brainstorming', I'm ready with my first short-story! I'm so much under the influence of the above mentioned authors that inadvertently might have included a bit of their writing styles in my own piece of fiction here.

I'm hoping you'll like the effort... (and the story of course)

Teachers Will Teach

Note: This post by no way is intended to hurt or ridicule the Teacher-fraternity. I thought I'd rather be good sharing this anecdote (which Aai had told me some time back) than writing a preachy post on account of Teachers' Day.

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A friend of Aai's, who is a teacher, had once asked me - "How can strangers after spending only five minutes with me come to the conclusion that I'm a teacher? Teachers are human too: they talk in the same language and look like any other normal person". She certainly didn't seem very pleased about it. I'd no answer to her question that day; but a few days hence, after hearing this from Aai, I could understand the difference and the answer to her question to a certain extent.

This friend didn't seem very happy. I couldn't stop laughing when she told Aai the reason of her annoyed look - She has a son of a marriageable age and since he couldn't find a partner for himself, as a mother it was her duty to arrange for a suitable partner. The parents of the eligible bachelor like all good parents advertised in a leading newspaper and various marriage bureaus, and as a result they received some particulars from 'suitable' girls. They shortlisted a couple of them and a meeting (baghnyacha karyakram) was arranged between the families of the eligible bride and groom. She gives English lessons to school children. Now when the girl's brother handed over the bio-data (not the most pleasant word but by her description, that is what I came to calling it), the teacher in her took a pen and to the shock of the guests made circles around the words and sentences which according to him were not grammatically correct or were spelled wrong! When she was correcting, the girl's brother, the poor guy sheepishly said, "I made this bio-data, my English is bad but my sister can write very well. She fortunately/unfortunately didn't reveal the result of the marriage proposal (and Aai of all I know her, would have been least interested in knowing it). Unknowingly, she herself had given the answer to her query.

There are certainly some differences between teachers and the rest of humanity. When they are not in the classroom, the whole world is a classroom. Teachers cannot ignore an incorrect spelling or bad manners, or a mispronounced word or a bad habit, etc. They won't think twice before they lecture on the importance of cleanliness to somebody who throws a piece of paper on the road. It might lead to a traffic snarl but they won't let him go till they are finished. To make sure that people understand their point they give examples and demonstrations in social gatherings. While other people normally mind their business, it is difficult for a teacher to keep quiet when they see a guest's child jumping on the sofa even if the house and the sofa is not theirs. More often than not their advice is ignored but this doesn't deter a true blue blooded teacher... and then after so many years you realise that that was for your own good. Probably this is how people can differentiate between teachers and an ordinary mortal.

A Happy Teachers' Day to all those lovely and great teachers I've had :-)

Is It Only About The Book?

Politics isn't my cup of tea; though I couldn't have missed an opportunity to write my first post on the Indian Politics regarding whatever happened last week, all because of a book... a controversial one: "Jinnah, Partition and Independence".

Jaswant Singh ate the forbidden apple and paid the price for it. His unceremonious expulsion from the BJP, a party that he served for three decades, without even being shown the normal courtesy of a show-cause notice was disgraceful. And moreover, the funny part of the story I read is that most of the BJP parliamentary board members who expelled Jaswant Singh haven't read the book!

One may not agree with every argument of Jaswant Singh but as a mature democracy, we should accept different points of view even on contentious issues such as the division of our country. History should be open to reinterpretation and our historians should take a new look at things that happened more than six decades ago. Leaders who create history have positives and negatives both. We then cannot refuse to see the 'bright side' of Jinnah (I understand that this was the cause for the furore). A few years ago L. K. Advani had praised Jinnah as a secular person. After a few protests everything was forgotten and forgiven. Jaswant Singh perhaps thought that he too could get away and dared to analyse the founder of Pakistan. All this reminded me of a joke which I'd heard a long time ago -

A gentleman was on a flight with a parrot on the seat next to him. Every time the air hostess walked past, the parrot whistled. The air hostess gave the parrot a dirty look and walked away. After this happened a couple of times she was nipped by the bird while passing by. She became really angry and complained about the shameless passenger. The captain couldn't do much and asked her to put up with the bird till they touched ground. This emboldened the gentleman sitting next to the parrot and he pinched the air hostess when she walked past. She lost her patience and threatened to resign if the captain took no action...

"Throw them both out of the plane", the captain said.

As the two of them were falling, the parrot asked the gentleman, "Can you fly?".

The frightened man said, "No".

The bird opened its wings and asked, "Why did you take a 'punga' with the air hostess when you can't fly?".