Homeless

I am a man without a home, no, not the philosophical sort which you rich sorts search for all your life, the one without four walls and a roof above.Every day or rather every night I search for a place where I can lie down without being disturbed by cops, dogs, rats and any other such creatures. Every morning I wake with the knowledge that my day would end somewhere else. All my belongings are in a big polythene bag which I carry with myself at all point of time. I found it with great difficulty while rummaging through the garbage of a posh housing society, or maybe it was my lucky day.

Dark corners, isolated places are the best to take care of my the bodily necessities, especially the ones you have in the morning. The smaller urgencies are taken care much easily. I can vaguely remember the regularity of brushing my teeth and the feeling associated with it, now a gargle with water (which sometime is clean and sometime is not) is more than enough to last me through the day.Like love, taking a bath happens when it happens, there is not much I can do about it.

Oh, in case you were wondering, I wasn't born on the road, I had a family once. Not so loving though, but nonetheless I had it.In fact, I am almost as educated as most of you are, give or take a few degree / diploma. So how the fuck I ended up here. Let's admit it, you don't give a fuck.There are million ways to go up in life, and there are a billion to go down. Mine was one of them, so there is that.

I tend to get philosophical at times and talk to no one in particular (usually the stray dogs are the best listeners). I would wonder how worrying about my next meal or next bath has made me free of all the other superficial worries in my earlier life, like finding the meaning of life or my calling. Mostly, i call my bluff myself and say out loud, "my life sucks.

Once in a while, I feel oddly buzzed to change my life for better. This feeling lasts for sometime (usually for around five minutes or so) and then it fizzles out on its own. Being on the other side, my motivation gets hampered largely by the fact that your life is not necessarily better. You are equally unhappy, stressed and insecure about your own future like I am. The effort to reach your state doesn't seem to be worth it, hence I wait and continue with my 'sucky' life.

Movie Review: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Very rarely we come across a movie which leaves us wondering what that movie was really about. The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and I mean it in a good way. Is it about a man going through a mid-life crisis, is it a romantic comedy, is it about the quintessential search for meaning of life ? I just saw the movie and I couldn't be sure of anything. What I am sure of that after a long time I had a feeling that I watched a good movie.

Don't worry at all, it is not those Oscar type movies which usually bore us (the normal people I mean) to death. It is interesting, comic, tragic and exhilarating
in the ways that only a good little movie could be. It is written beautifully, shot brilliantly and anchored competently by the director and actor Ben Stiller.

He takes you from US of A to Greenland, Iceland, upper Himalayas in Afganistan before he coming home literally and metaphorically. Walter Mitty travels the world only to rediscover the past he left behind and what a fascinating journey it is for all of us to watch.

Ben Stiller is in top form, comic and tragic at the same time in the ways only he can be. Kristen Wiig is perfect in her role and there isn't a cooler actor to play the photographer than Sean Penn. He is absolutely riveting in the single scene when he meets Mr. Mitty in Himalayas trying to shoot a snow leopard.

Highly Recommended. !!!

Movie Review: Besharam

One of the million dollar question while watching an intelligent actor in bad movie is, why in the God's name he did this movie ? Here is my theory about why Ranbir Kapoor did Besharam. He has now done a Rajneeti, Wake up Sid, Rockstar and YZHD, which means he is now a established actor in bollywood. For him, the next logical step is to become a bollywood superstar. What better way to do it than do a non-sense pot boiler without a semblance of sense or a script. If Besharam makes money, he becomes the 4th KHAN ,THE superstar and will finally grow out of the tag of the "next" superstar. Unfortunately, even for someone like me who enjoys his Dabang and Rowdy Rathore, Besharam hardly has any redeeming quality about it. It seems like a string of poor jokes and sequences where easy laughs are difficult to come by and any emotional connect is a distant dream with lousy characters, below average music and "mis"direction. It is hard to believe that this is the same director who made Dabangg. Maybe the claim that most khans ghost direct (yes even someone like Salman) is true.

Abhinav kashyap tries to be funny, slapstick and crowd entertainer through inane joke (mostly originating or referring to lower parts of the body) and forced situations. Ranbir tries his best to pull it off, but eventually fail to save this lazy piece of work from what we thought was a good director. There was a time when few directors used to believe that foreign locations guarantees their success and script or dialogues can be dispensed with. Besharam suffers from the same problems except that it captures the exotica of our times: "The small town". Anurag kashyap may disown his brother, only for the random songs which comes so often out of  nowhere, that their pointlessness seems some kind of secret joke that no one gets in the audience.

Neetu Singh looks like a million buck and plays the cutest corrupt cop ever with a great panache. Rishi Kapoor and Ranbir Kapoor deliver as good a performance as a shoddy script and direction permit them to. Special mention is required for the actor who plays titu (Ranbir's sidekick in the movie) he is actually funny. Pallavi sharda is not bad for a first timer, and her character is written with distinguished lethargy.

For Ranbir Kapoor fans this is obviously a dampner. He has dazzled everyone with his choice of movies and roles so far, maybe we were expecting a little too much from him too early. Besharam seems to be for RK what Ram Jaane was for SRK.

Watch Besharam strictly only if you have nothing better to do.

 

Why I love Karen ?

Writing about why I love a TV Character is a dangerous thing. Considering the stage of my life, even more so ( I am a 30 year old male who is single and unmarried). So, if you can see past the weirdness of it all, I have something to say which you just might like.

Like a lot of single people, I watch a lot of movies and TV. One of the few TV series which I particularly relish is Californication. People who watch a lot of movies and TV have a tendency to fall in love with the on-screen characters, I am no different. It is nothing like Guddi in that old Hindi Movie, but I guess you get the gist. 

So moving on, there are women and there is Karen. For the uninitiated, she is the female lead of the TV series Californication. The show is superficial but insanely irreverent, reason enough for me to watch all of its six seasons. Here are very few of the reasons why I love her:

1. She loves a writer, an inconsistent, chronic under performer with little flashes of brilliance once in a while. I am not saying anything more.

2. No matter, who she is married to , who she is living with, there is no doubt who she truly loves.

3. She knows that the writer loves her too, but together they can't function and have no future. She takes it all in her stride and moves on with her life.

4. She looks old and mature, wise beyond her years. Her eyes speak of the pain she has endured and the world she has seen. In her smile, I see the world which sparkle and fade out, like a firefly, isn't that something ?

5. She gets mad at the writer but always forgives him, no matter what he does, because that is how it is meant to be.  

and I keep loving her.

The Letters

The girl was sick and she has been for a long time. People around her knew it, the ones who loved her knew it and she knew it as well. They all understood the imminent future, the unavoidable. Nonetheless, no one talked about it in open. The girl, however was little different from others, she was fond of joking about it. "I really need to fast forward my life, I don't have all day, you know" She used to say very often and that too with a weak smile, because that is all which her sickness permitted.
 
She wasn't always sick, but her sickness has had her for so long, hardly anyone remembered what it was like before. Once in a while, in her smile or the sparkle in her eye, one would get to see the girl that she once was, nothing more.

She used to sing, they said. She had the loveliest of the voice, nothing like the raspy voice which she has now because of coughing for so long.

She used to read, all the love poems. They were her favorites; she liked the melody that she could create by humming those poems in her voice.

She used to write, stories of times long gone by. She liked the charm of the old world. Things were simpler then, she'd say. You fall sick, you die.

She liked listening to stories of the magical world. The stories with angels, demons, gods, goddesses, fairies, witches, she loved them. She believed that fairies do exist. She wasn't so old, you know.

She had the weird habit of making friends with really old people. She had many friends who had seen a decade for her every year. More so, they all treated her like an equal rather than like a grandchild. Though she wasn't old, she wasn't a child, you know.

She believed in all the unbelievable things. Gods, destiny, karma and reincarnation because maybe she needed to. She never had the luxury to start with non-believing and take a U-turn after a few years. She hadn't got all day, you know.

Once she had met a boy at the places where sick people typically meet, a hospital. On one of her not so infrequent trips there. He was on the bed beside her bed. He was sick too and used to come there once in a while. They started talking; actually, she made him talk to her about things she liked to hear about. He was the shy kind, you know.

They were together for a week, and like it happens for sick people, they fell in love too quickly. She liked to hold his hand while talking to him, he liked that too. Their loved ones felt a little awkward, but they pretended that they didn’t notice it and nothing was unusual. Secretly they were happy for them and a little scared too.

The boy was discharged after a week and he had to go back to his home town which was some distance away from her place. They promised each other to write a letter every day.

They wrote letters to each other, every single day. They wrote about their childhood, of the days when they were not sick, of the days when they will get better, about what they could do if they were not sick, of the views from their windows, of the loved ones who were now tired taking care of them and their failed attempts to hide their sadness, of the funny relatives who would come to visit them and ask them silly questions, of the medicine they fake swallowed and spat out later, of the need to be near each other and  of the dreams of holding each other’s hands. They were sure that they couldn’t live without each other.

The letters kept coming and she kept replying. In the morning she will wait for the postman to deliver the letter, and then she will read it a few times. In the afternoon she will think about what to write and in the evening she will write the reply. The postman was one of her old friend, she would hand over her reply to him and take the new letter from him. Her whole life was no longer about her sickness; there was something more important in her life now, the letters.

Though, she was happier and a tad healthier (maybe because of letters, maybe because of love, who knows), she knew that she was getting attached to these letters too much. Her belief in unbelievable things made her believe that days of her life were tied to these letters now. She was going to live till these letters kept coming. She didn’t tell anyone but she hoped that they boy would know and to be sure, she wrote it in one of her letters too.

The letters kept coming and she kept getting better. One day she felt good enough to go on a trip to meet the boy and she went to his town. She reached his house and found his mother. She told her that the boy passed away a month ago, but he has made her promise to keep writing letters. So she kept writing. She told her that he wanted her to get better and live a long life.

The girl was heartbroken and she cried for days.One day, when she woke up in the morning, she smiled and told her loved one that she is going to get better. Later in her life she became a teacher and taught in a university. She wrote a letter to the boy every day, she never posted those letters and kept them in her diary.

 

The End

 

Inspired by:

"The Last Leaf" by O'Henry and Lootera (Movie) by Vikramaditya Motwane

My Sister's Keeper (Movie) based on the Book of the same name by Jodie Picoult

Fairy Tales for the Modern Man

In line with the latest fad of "fairly tales for XYZ". Here is my attempt at writing the set for writing fairy tales for the modern man.

In case you are not aware of this fad, please go through the following links:

Fairy tales for the introverts: http://introvertfairytales.com/

Fairy tales for the modern woman: http://thehairpin.com/2013/06/six-fairy-tales-for-the-modern-woman/

Here goes nothing:

# 1:

Once upon a time a guy was in a relationship where he doesn't have to be the understanding or sensitive kind. He could speak his mind without worrying about hurting her feelings. He doesn't have to notice insignificant things about her to make her feel appreciated. He had once told her that he loved her and she knew that he still does and that was enough.

The End

# 2:

Once upon a time, a guy found what he loved to do. He started doing it, the more he did it, the happier he got, so he did it some more. People around him didn't really understand why he liked doing what he was doing, but they were supportive anyways. Over the course of time, he started making a little money on the side because of what he loved doing. Eventually he realized he could
take the plunge, leave his job and still manage to stay afloat. He took the plunge, kept at it and now only does what he loves to do.

# 3:

Once upon a time, a guy had a good job.He kinda loved it. He had enough money to pay his rent, go out when he wanted to and he was fit enough to  drink and eat to his heart's content. He had friends, men and women, they liked his quirky sense of humour and never nagged him about getting married. He met them regularly. He met a few women who respected his independence both in action and
in thoughts, as much as their own.They talked about interesting things, laughed together and did a few other things too. Later, he found someone for whom commitment was not equal to marriage.
They decided to live together. They realized they can't manage to have kids, so they decided not to have them and instead increased contribution to their retirement funds. They lived together till they died.

# 4:

Once upon a time, a guy realized he doesn't like the city so much. There were too many people, too much noise and the colour of the sky was all funny. He decided to go back to his hometown in mountains. He still lives there and loves it.

The End.

# 5:

Once upon a time, a guy realized that he doesn't like his home town so much. There weren't enough fun people, the evenings were eerily silent, the sky was too blue for his taste and to top it all everybody knew him and his parents. He studied hard and got into a good college. He landed a job from the college itself. Now he lives in a small room near the multiplex with his college mates.
He goes to movies every weekend, parties once in a while, holds the hand of the girl he likes in public because no one knows him or care and likes the fuzzy pale blue of the sky.

His parents are still at his hometown and don't give him any grief.

The End

Confessions of a Jeevansaathi Finder

I am writing this because these days marriage is on my mind, there, I said it,so move on already :)

->These days, I understand why people choose to get married. Surprisingly, I can see a point when everyone around me expresses their concerns about my impending matrimonial plans. My best buddies who are married now have ready tips to give to find just the right girl. I listen to their advice carefully and sometimes implement it as well.

->The FB updates on marriage, honeymoon pics do affect me. Deeply. Period.

->I am more active on Jeevansathi.com than on facebook or twitter.

->I think a little less of myself for registering on a website to find a soulmate.


->I am confused about how to write my profile details, should I present myself as the nice, stable, well educated guy that the parents will like or should I go for the cool guy write up that the girls will like. My current profile write up is the first kind in case you were wondering.


->My height on my profile page is more than my actual height (but then so is my weight :P)

->I am keeping a french goatee only so that I look old (or maybe better) enough for marriage.

->Though by this time one should get wiser, I am still looking for love as a reason to get married. I dread marrying someone for "practical" reasons.

->I still have no clue about the kind of person I would want to marry. To act my age, I do rattle off few "politically correct" criteria to others when they ask .Deep down I am completely sold on that marrying your soulmate bullshit :)

->I can now relate to the quote "No woman likes to be loved only for her beauty and no man likes to be loved only for his salary".

->I think less of people who send me horoscope request even before talking to me.

->I find it uncomfortable talking to 3-4 girls at a time about a marriage, it seems unethical, but then this maybe nothing but my MBA talking.

->I find it difficult to tell a girl that I don't like her enough to continue talking so I simply stop calling and hope that she gets the hint. Manning up and telling the truth is difficult, I have tried it once but it really doesn't help anyone.I make up for this chicken act by getting the hint myself soon enough.

->I think the truly regressive nature of our society reveals itself during marriage discussions.

->I have a feeling that eventually I will have to take this decision through a leap of faith and not through my inner voice as I would like to.

->I think that spending lavishly on marriage ceremony is a criminal waste. However, I doubt that I will be able to convince all the "stakeholders" (including the girl) to have a simple and most importantly happy wedding, which Indian marriages seldom are. I have a feeling that I will be judged as rigid, radical and someone with no respect for traditions. Those who disagree with my unhappy marriage comment, please don't judge a wedding by its facebook pics.

->Most of girls I meet are modern enough to raise their voice against dowry, however I am yet to see someone who is modern enough to understand that a dream wedding ceremony (and accompanying expenses) is not our parents' duty or obligation.

All being said, I appreciate everyone on these websites on their own, for taking the chance to find the one they want to spend the rest of their lives with.It is a total chaos with so many people having so many whims and fancies of their own. It takes some courage to put your heart out knowing that it may be kicked around. I know it is not easy being judged for your looks, height, weight, caste, age, educational qualification, salary by some random person.So kudos to these soldiers of fortune for marching on to build a future of their own. You incorrigible bastards, your persistence in this messed up world of online matrimony tells me that there is still enough hope in this world.

Stay Beautiful
Amitabh

#Talaash, #Aamir

Let me clarify from the word go, though this article talks about the movie Talaash, it is not a review. Simply because to review a movie one needs to be fair unbiased and being an Aamir Khan fan I am definitely biased towards most of what he does.

I watched Talaash this friday, at the unearthly show timing of 8:10 AM (First Day, First Show :)).I found Talaash everything that I expected it to be or more precisely everything that I expect from Aamir.

I became an Aamir fan when I saw Sarfarosh and have never been disappointed since. He keeps on surprising me with this consistently outlandish choices and equally consistent great quality work he does with everything he takes up.

The thing that I like with him, is that he can see beyond bollywood formulas, sample these one line summaries of his previous body of work:

Sarfarosh: Young IPS officer working to curb cross-border terrorism

Dil Chahta Hai: Stories of 3 friends discovering themselves

Lagaan: Village plays a cricket match with English rulers to get a tax (lagaan) waiver

Mangal Pandey: Story of the first indian freedom fighter

Taare Zameen Par: Story of a dyslexic chid

Rang De Basanti: 5 people fighting against corrupt politicians

Ghazni: Revenge story

3 Idiots: Life and times of 3 engineering students in India

I guess you would realize that except Ghazni, none of Aamir's movie would fit a prevalent bollywood formula. He did it because someone wrote a beautiful script and he liked it. With the onslaught of inane movies that I see so often, I guess a movie where a script has been written before going on floor, is promising from the word go.Talaash is no different, it is nothing like what would supposedly work at box office, but it is definitely well written. Apart from that you can clearly see that this movie is a labour of love, where people have taken great pains to deliver what they believed in. The sheer visual appeal of mumbai's dark underbelly, the finely etched characters, the brilliant acting, it's all there.I don't expect Aamir to do what I think would entertain me, I expect Aamir to do what he believes in. It is for the simple reason that there are many "entertainers", but there is only one Aamir.

His singleminded focus means that every time we go to see his movie, we are assured of one thing: Quality. You can safely assume that everything that could have been done to make a movie better would be done. You would know that Aamir would do the best job he could do.He doesn't care that much about "typical" audience, which every director/producer claim to know so much about (case in point: the Golmaal franchise, Son of Sardaar, Ra.One, Don2 and last but not the least Jab Tak Hain Jaan). These people know that lots of cars should be blown up and it should be painted in gaudy colours, item numbers are a must, the angle of SRK head tilt which is just enough to make ladies swoon, the dance step which will just click and the funny gags which will make people laugh. Whether you admit it or not, you would agree that in the above list of movies,except Golmaal part 1, it needed someone to write a script before starting to film them.

I agree that movies are for entertainment and hence these movies have their takers, they may not be discerning viewers but are enough in numbers to make the cash registers ringing. However, movies are also about telling a tale, a tale you would not listen to otherwise, of people who you will never come across, of locations you will never go to and of emotions you may never feel on your own. In this mayhem of entertainment focused movies, Talaash is a movie with a story to tell. Is this story particularly entertaining ? No. Is this story makes financial sense for mainstream cinema ? No. However, it is an interesting tale which have been told competently by the Director. It is about grief and mourning, it is about regret and remorse, it is about people without identity hoping for dignity, it is about two people in love who are too burdened by their own pain to help the other, it is about their catharsis and eventually coming back together.

Talaash is brilliantly written and despite of its somewhat outlandish ending, works for me. More importantly, it brings the real star of a movie into focus, the script. Remaining true to its core, it spends plenty of time in building up the characters so that you understand them and hence feel their emotions.

There is no other mainstream star who would dare to star as a cop in a movie who cries more than he fights. Surjan Sekhawat is another addition to Aamir already impressive repertoire of memorable characters.

In an interview Aamir had said that for him to do a Taare Zameen Pe, he has to do a Ghazni once in a while. I guess now we know why he is doing a Dhoom 3 :).

Overrated Reality : A writer's take

I am a writer at heart, I may not be great at it, but as someone has put it, "hearts knows reasons what reason knows nothing of". So that being settled, here is an excerpt from the movie " Atonement" (based on the book of the same name by Ian McEwan). To cut a long story rather short, this movie is about an little girl whose action damages the lives of many people and she harbors a strong guilt in her heart for her action till the day she dies. She becomes a famous author and her last novel (which is she reckons as her first) is autobiographical in nature where she actually attempts to tell the truth.

What I like about this particular dialogue is how deftly the biggest of a writer's dilemma is captured. To decide between telling the whole truth or add embellishments to the reality. It is a temptation / problem we all face (even those of us who don't write). Even when we are narrating a story / event / incident  we unknowingly add or modify the truth to suit ourselves. That temptation is a great one and I guess one of the reasons, writers become what they are, is to have a world which they can control.

Briony (the little girl who is a big time author now) is talking to a tv show anchor. Here is the beautiful piece of writing:

BRIONY : "I had, for a very long time, decided to tell the absolute truth.
No rhymes, no embellishments.
And I think, You've read the book, you'll understand why.

I got first-hand accounts of all the events. I didn't personally witness, the conditions in prison, the evacuation to Dunkirk, everything. But the effect of all this honesty was rather pitiless.

You see, I couIdn't any Ionger imagine what purpose would be served by it."

TV Show Anchor : "By what? Sorry. Served by honesty?"

BRIONY: "By honesty. Or reaIity."

I know this one is a peculiar post (and rather indulgent), but watch the movie atonement and you will come to understand this post much better.

-Stay Beautiful
Amitabh

Prologue

With unspeakable mirth for the world around, something short of a book and more than a rant came out through his guts, via his stomach and eventually through his hands. One would want the heart and the mind to have something to do with it, but it wasn't. The sick feeling which one gets at the pit of their stomach where something is not right, was the only source responsible for what was to come. Words don't take up any space, but at times they make you so full of them that you have to spit them out otherwise you will have to retch. He always wanted to write a book, he knew that since he stared reading, even before he wrote his proper first sentence. But, he never knew that it would come like this. But it did and he didn't had a choice.

He was not so pleased to write it as he should have been, he was writing it because that was the only way for him to move any further. It was like a holy cross he has been cursed to carry for eternity, which he had been carrying since the time he knew guilt, since he began to make sense of ways of the world. He wasn't born a believer, not that he can remember, but he always wanted to believe in what is good, right, pure and true. The ideas of Love, Freedom, Honour and Kindness appealed to him. Nonetheless, he knew quickly that such ideas are called and dismissed as lofty by the ones who have been marred by disappointment and reality of life. At the end of it all what really mattered was the utility and convenience.He was quick to know of it and smart enough to remember it. But as overrated intelligence is, this awareness didn't make him feel any better or any calmer.

It is rather hard to fight with your upbringing. He was taught and reminded more often than anything else to be a good guy, a gentleman. And what else being a gentleman means if not believing in the lofty ideals and persisting even when failure is certain. The way people around him made decisions because of utility and convenience and provided convoluted justifications perturbed him. He was smart enough to relate to these people. Heck, he was one of them, he nonetheless believed that humans owe it to themselves to protect atleast a part of their lives where heart takes the decisions, however small that part is is irrelevalent. What matters is that you should know what is it and then stick to it. This part of your life is governed by high values, the very best thing men should aspire for and there is no scope of corruption or compromise. He felt rather odd knowing that even that is too much to ask from people around him. He could not hold someone from taking their decisions, but atleast he can pour out what he felt, hence he started writing ....hopefully for long...

Farewell my Hero

I started playing cricket in 1996, same year when Rahul Dravid made his test debut in England. This was also the year when I started to follow cricket, first like a newbee and then like a fanatic, devouring edition of 'Cricket Samrat (or any similar magazine I could get hold of) from cover to cover. At a point of time, I remember all the batsmen who scored 199 in a test match, bottomline: those were crazy and heady days. Despite of being a new bee, I noticed a quiet batsman who missed his century at Lords' while another more fluent one, got 2 in a row and that too on debut. Since I was also learning the game, I related closely to that guy who always tried to play the perfect shot, whose effort was obvious for anyone to see, he to begin with was no genius, no maestro or if I may add no PRINCE. He was a common man, much like us, who had to work hard to get anything in life, boundaries didn't flow from his bat, he batted quietly and meticulously to build an inning to get himself noticed. I don't know about others, but I sure did, he was an inspiration, he was my "proof of concept" that if one works hard enough one can overcome his limitations.

Since those days, I followed him closely. He was, is and will be my favorite cricketer ever. I defended him ardently when the whole world blamed him for playing boring and slow cricket and declaring him unfit for One Day  cricket. I admired the fact that he was a team man, not just in words but in action, when Saeed Anwar plundered 194 against India, it was he who led the India's reply by scoring his first ODI century, sadly that was not enough. I admired his discipline, commitment and immense hard work he put into his game to become a world class player. He was a hope for a person like me who without being bestowed any particular talent wanted to make it big in this world. 

We learnt our cricket (as it happens in small towns) by watching the Greats play on tv. The pinnacles of our  short lived (and much cherished) cricket careers were the time we struck a ball which closely imitated either Dravid's cover drive or Sachin loft for a six off a leg spinner, and hence we watched them closely and obsessed over every ball they played. I was heartbroken when Dravid was dropped from the ODI team, and ecstatic when he made that rare run-a-ball century against New Zealand in New Zealand.

His dream run in 1999 world cup settled any doubts over his fitness for ODIs and by the time he hung his boots he amassed 10,000 ODI runs. I guess my faith wasn't in vain.I will always remember his outburst in Australia when we won a test match, though he almost won that match single-handedly (233 and 73* ) his celebration was for the team and for our nation.

There are many other things that I remember about Rahul Dravid, but then it is a memoir not mine to write, but as any other cricket fan in this country, we believe that we have lived the lives of our heroes. A hero who deserve an standing ovation for his farewell walk from everyone. May the WALL stand tall, as always.

Keeping a Secret

Sometimes when you stumble upon a truth which is so secret that it can make or break someone's life (or at least change it for better or for worse), what do you do ? As a social animal your first impulse is to share it with someone in confidence, consoling yourself that you can ask the other person to keep it to himself and not tell it to anyone. In this simple way, we pass on our burden to someone else, though knowing fully well that secret if told to someone else will always reach even further, like water which always finds a way to leak.

Or you can simply choose to ignore it and move on with life as you were going to. Sometimes people deserve to keep their secrets to themselves, and one should respect that. Easier said than done, but it seems to me a nobler choice, and what are we if we don't try to be noble once in while ?

Well, you know the answer.

Stay Beautiful.
Amitabh

Take a bow to Imtiaz Ali

Somewhere deep within all of us is an innate desire to transcend ourselves, to be more than what we are and what we can be, to grow beyond and merge ourselves into something all pervasive. Sometimes we do realize this wish as well, though rarely and in fleeting moments.In my life, I have had these experiences as well, those sudden bursts of brilliant fecundity (or creativity) which makes you do things which makes you wonder later, if it was only you who did that or felt that. No matter how old I become, I will remember those moments with vivid clarity, like the time when I wrote something or the time when I took that brilliant catch or the time when sang that song or the time when I read that passage.
Despite of my fairly routine existence I cherish and strive for these moments hungarily. But I guess this phase of my life, I am getting used to becoming a bore and cynical. Very few things impress me and even if they do, it fizzles out.
Hence I want to write about the movie Rockstar right away, till I am still in awe, till I am still itching to write something. Once you sleep on such things, you never know if you feel the same way when you wake up in the morning.
Rockstar is basically a love story expectedly from Imtiaz Ali. But more than that it is about an artist's journey to find within himself a part which will transcend him into a realm of his craft which every artist want but seldom reach. He would reach there eventually but through the painful route of a heartbreak. In my opinion, heartbreak is nothing but a plot device, it could have been anything, death of someone, terminal disease of the rockstar (our hero feels doomed for having none of these :) ) but then a love story is a love story. Nothing tugs our heart like love of two good looking people :D.
Nargis Fakhri is all that she needs to be, beautiful and pristine, the unblemished portrait of a woman which can inspire a Janardhan Jakhar to become a Jordan. Ranbir Kapoor is also all that he needs to be and probably much more. In a role of a lifetime, he delivers the goods and proves his worth as the touted 'next big thing'. In my humble opinion, he already is with an enviable body of work in such a short time. His contemporaries are far behind.
Though I will always believe that Swades is A R Rahman's best work, he needs no praise from someone like me. The music is superb and if there ever would be a real life "Jordan" in India, he would have some benchmark to cross. Saada haq is as good a rock track as can be and I have already listened to Kun Faaya Kun and Tum Ho for hours in loop. And then there is "Nadan Parindey". Sample these verse from the song :
कागा रे, कागा रे, मोरी इतनी अरज तोसे
कागा रे, कागा रे, मोरी इतनी अरज तोसे
चुन चुन खइयो मांस |
अरे जिया रे,
खइयो ना दो नैना मोरे,
खइयो ना दो नैना मोरे
पिया के मिलन की आस ||
But more than anyone else, this movie belongs to Imtiaz Ali, the director with the vision to create this magnum opus. He deftly moves through a non-linear timeline displaying his control of the craft and the medium. Rockstar works because it has something to say (simply put, it has a story). It may not be entirely new , but every single frame of the movie is immensely watchable and thanks to Imtiaz Ali for that.
To sum it up, I loved the movie and would recommend it very highly to anyone who like watching movies.
If you have read this note so far, put a comment below (I only humbly request), what is it, that makes you feel more ? (apart from when you stand on the weighing machine of course :P).
If you know, you will do alright. Even if you don't, you are alive and will know eventually.
All the best.
Stay Beautiful (Courtsey:Orkut)
Amitabh

A Game of Marble

"There you go", said Amitabh triumphantly, afterall he has hit the marble and his total marble count stood at 10 now.He was a newbie in this marble business, but he was no rookie. Within a week he has almost mastered the art of hitting a marble by bending his fingers expertly and aim like (or atleast pretend like ) someone who knew his marbles.

"Have you seen Aditya", asked Sukhjeet. "Nah", said Amitabh while trying to gauge the best way to hit the marble so that his marble would end nearest to the pegging hole and help him score the 'goal'. "Abe teen din se school nahin aaya hai (he hasn't come to school since 3 days)", said Sukhjeet.

"I am also playing", said Gautam while walking towards their small marble 'playground" from the classroom. Amitabh sheepishly looked at Sukhjeet. Gautam was a master marble player and letting him play with them would mean loosing some of the marble they have collected so far."We are not playing for real, this is a jhutthi mutthi game between me and Sukhjeet", said Amitabh trying to build a background to avoid playing with Gautam. 'Oh, alright, I will also join you", said Gautam in his flambuoyant way, so typical of someone good at marbles. "But we are not playing for real, you get it right ?", said Sukhjeet, giving his last shot at shooing Gautam away and playing at peace with Amitabh, with whom he had a chance to win some more marbles."I get it, we won't play for real but we can still play for points ...right ? One hit , 10 points" said Gautam. This seemed to be the clicnher, and Amitabh & Sukhjeet (now assured of safety of their marble "wealth") abondened their game to let Gautam joined them.

Gautam stood at the small pegging hole, took 1 marble each from everyone, shook them between his closed palms and threw it away from the whole on the ground. Now the goal of the game was to reach to the pegging hole, while hitting other's marble as many times with your marble as you can. Every time you hit others marble you will have to score the goal with your marble by hitting it inside the pegging hole.

As it turns out, Sukhjeet's marble went the farthest, Amitabh's was second nearest and Gautam's, the closest. Seems like the throw wasn't so random as it seemed at first."Oye haan... Gautam do you know why Aditya hasn't come to school for so many days" , asked Sukhjeet suddenly, continuing his conversation which he started with Amitabh with Gautam now. " This guy is still stuck with Aditya", said an irritated Amitabh, " if he didn't come, he didn't come, must be having fun at home yaar, who cares".

"Nothing yaar, I was asking just like that only", said Sukhjeet, " actually, I am missing the toast he used to bring for his lunch, he told me his mom toast it with something like butter but not butter, and that is why it tastes so different and so good.

"Cheese".

"What ?"

"That thing like butter which is not butter is called cheese, Aditya told me this and you know me, once you tell me something, I don't forget", said Amitabh, cashing on the opportunity to brag about himself. Something which he has started to enjoy since very recently.

"There has been some accident on the bridge, A jeep collided with the truck, Aditya was also there in the Jeep. He is in hospital right now. That is why he is not coming, my elder brother was talking to his frind yesterday, he was talking about Aditya's sister who also in the jeep. But Aditya will not come to school for sometime now." said Gautam, feeling a tad proud of providing a information meant for grown-ups only and quoting his sources as well.

"Yes I know, Aditya & his sister will always go home in their Papa's jeep, I wish my Papa's also had a jeep like that. Once Aditya invited us to his home across the bridge, we went in that jeep to his home during the interval , it was so nice and bumpy" said Amitabh, a little lost reminscing about that glorious visit.

"Did he break any bones ?" asked Sukhjeet out of curiosity.

"I think so, his left arm I guess. But my brother was telling his friend that his head got struk with the jeep's window very badly, his head is all wrapped up in bandages right now. He was unconcious for two days."

"Like the Mummy in Duck Tales ?" asked Amitabh, who was feeling a little left out in this rather serious conversation. He was still remembering the little trip they had. Aditya was always like that, sharing his tiffin with everyone, inviting them to his home and letting us use his new new things, he thought ruefully. Aditya not coming to school was not a good news.

"he he...sort of, I can only imagine, Aditya all wrapped in bandages, running behind us for our marbles making scary mummy noises... ...wwooooooo ...woooooooo ..wooooooooooooooooooo" said Gautam and they all started laughing.

And with that Gautam hit Sukhjeet marble once before hitting the peggin hole. He was, as expected the winner of the game. They started another game but midway someone shouted from the classroom, "Oye, Neppo is here, come back to class if you don't want to be flagged once again". Nappo (aka Napoleon) was the nick name they had given to the Principle of the school who was very strict and very short. How he was named after a French war legend in a school deep down in indian hinterland was a mystery. However, thanks to this, every kid in the school knew who Napoleon Bonaparte was (a really short guy, a detail most relevant at that age). The fact that Neppo always did his inspection with a short stick in his hand like a sword, just helped his notoriety as Neppo.

So they ran back quickly to the classroom, not before collecting & counting their respective "marble wealth".

Good Luck Dear Friend

At times one gets too busy in one's own life that we completely lose track of people around us, and if you are in a b-school this might happen quite a lot. In fact it takes a while before you realize who you have lost along the way. Not to say that life here is very busy, it is just that we form a very small circle of people and tend to lose ourselves in that circle only. People out of this immediate circle get lost in the background. You see them once in a while, say Hi and move on with your life.

A week ago, while surfing orkut (which indicates the abundance of time available) a friend's name flashed in my friend list and it struck me, that I haven't seen her for quite a while, inspite of fact that she is in same campus. Then it also struck me that she was dropped from the college due to poor academic performance. When it happened, I was also one of the many people who felt upset to hear the news. But soon enough, we got immersed into our lives and soon enough it was 3 months after that fateful day when we got the news.

Conveniently I forgot that a person existed around us and she was a friend. I am not sure why I am writing this but I felt bad for forgetting a friend so quickly, don't know why.

Anyways, all the best my dear friend, may you do well wherever you go.

GoBaldyLook

So finally after such a long time, I took the plunge & went "full monty" with my head.Translated, I shaved my head :). My hairs were coarse, full of dandruff (ewww..), falling & turning grey, and that's when I realized, it is time for "a new beginning". Apart from that I wanted to do it at least once till it is in my hand (or on my head :P ), just another tick on my 'bucket list' :).

What I really found interesting were some of the responses (though I must admit, not completely unexpected :P ) :

Here are some of them ( in no particular order ) :

• Inability to recognize me from 2 feets away when they saw me for the first time. One of my friend called me 'Chotu' and almost asked me to bring him some chaai.

• Why ? Why ? Why ? ( with supressed laughter juxstaposed with shock... I would interpret it as awe ,courtesey my glorious GoBaldyLook :P ). Supressed laughter later turned into uncontrollable hoo..hoo..haa..haa...with the clutching of the stomach and a pointed finger at me.

• What happened ? (almost a shreik !!! ), Gum got stuck in your hair ?

• Everything alright at home (Owing to a Hindu tradition ), I quickly reassured them that nothing of the sort has happened and then can go ahead, laugh and make fun of me. Everyone obliged :)

• The priceless open mouth with popping eyes.

• The rhetorical question, "Dude .. what the F*&^$ ?"

• The mean and loud laugh (It hurts.. man :( , coming from the person who knows how to do it)

there were some others, but I'll save them for a sequel ( I can very well write a book :) )

Stay Beautiful
Amitabh

P.S. : I am not going to post a pick of my own, enough people made fun of me already ...boo hoo hoo :D

The year gone by

"Sir, my name is Amitabh Singh Yadav and I am waitlisted 18 for the PMIR course.
waitlist 18 ?
Yes Sir.
PMIR ?
Yes Sir.
Amitabh ..Singh Yadav.
Yes Sir.

Your waitlist has been cleared and we will send you the formal admission letter in 3-4 days.

Are you sure sir ?

Yes .. now be patient and wait for your offer letter .... and the person on the other side of the phone call hung up. "


It took a while for this news to sink in me. When it did .. I did an impromptu Salsa step (which I was learning those days) and my colleague who was with me for breakfast was amused to see it.

Then I told her, "I am going to XLRI Jamshedpur" with the widest possible grin on my face.

Recently I completed a year after that fateful day and the journey so far has been a roller coaster ride to say the least.

This is my attempt to look behind past my shoulders to reminisce about what has happened in one of the most eventful year of my life.

This was the year :

• When I again started to believe in dreams and possibility of impossible dreams coming true. What happens after they come true is altogether a different story.

• When I made 3 friends, and if I were a corporation and friends were my profits, I am not only beating recession, I am making a killing of it.

• When my dear Sister found the love of her life and decided to get married.She has became a Mumbaikar now.

• When I hurt someone because of being nice to me.

• When I read too much, understood a lot but learnt very little.

• When the time went by faster than it ever could.

• When I saw the rich people (too rich for their own good) and the poor people( too poor to get hold of their next meal) and my sense of justice took almost a U-turn.

• When I saw 14 interview shortlists without my name before seeing the one with my name for the Summer Internship Process. As it turned out, that was enough :)

• When I again tried to fight prejudices of many, failing often and succeeding rarely.I plan to continue doing the same.

• When old age caught up with me for the first time. The sign ? It is not the grey hairs(though I have few of them head) and I am yet to grow a fully blown beard or moustache. Rather it is the year where emotions got the better of me, I have become rather more sentimental and emotional than I ever was. I just hope it is a temporary phase.

• When even after going through this ... I am not any wiser. :)

Stay Beautiful
Amitabh

Life in Short !!!

That's a piece I wrote sometime back as part of my application for a PG admission process.(Believe it or not :P ).

Enjoy Madi :)

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Adieu Amitabh (A eulogy)

Born on the 18^th Nov, named after a living legend, Son of a homemaker & a teacher, Amitabh was an exciting prospect. He was good at studies, followed Cricket and Bollywood religiously (Name does have its effects, doesn’t it?).He duly pursued Engineering where he discovered Public Speaking, Table tennis, English literature, SPIC MACAY, guitar and not to mention his major Information Technology too.

A two year stint with TCS took him from Trivandrum to Cochin, Cochin to Bangalore and finally to Gurgaon. He made some interesting friends & despite all his dislike for food cooked in Coconut Oil, he swore by the Fried Fish till the very end. He liked to claim that he had found enough stories from Cochin and Bangalore for his Grandkids to last 20 years.

His love for printed words was a legacy of his father who was a librarian himself. Starting with Champak, Nandan, ChandaMama, Paraag, not to mention a fanatic following of Cricket Samraat he then moved on to read English Literature, reading classics, fiction-nonfiction with equal gusto. In particular he was fond of Indian Authors Vikram Seth & Arundhati Roy being his favourites.

He was confident, contemplative and had a sense of humour. He was afraid of stagnation, disliked hypocrisy (mostly his) and liked people. An atheist, he respected other’s belief but hated Religious fundamentalists.

Once when asked if he had any regrets…he said “I have many…but I won’t mind living to have some more”. We couldn’t agree more. Good Bye ‘O’ Beloved Friend. May you start again from where you left.

Love Ya XL !!!

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This is story of an ordinary college boy. His story is as common as can be till something happens. During the very first few days ...Like you see a girl .. beautiful, smart and so intelligent that everyone seems to be eating out of her hands. You being the ordinary guy .. look at her in once in a while and try to console yourself by concentrating on some other stuff. The time goes by .. she is too good, you don't stand a chance and you remain the invisible guy that you are .. at least to her.

You are so much enamored that .. You feel scruffy when she is around... you feel tongue tied even when you know that you are not going to talk to her and she not to you. You live your life in the self-denial mode and keep it a secret even from your best friend.. Since he might find it funny and you really would not like it. You try talking yourself out of it .. it doesn't work. You try focusing your attention on something which supposedly is more important (study, career and all that crap they talk about), even that doesn't work.

Then as it happens with almost everything in life ... somehow your heart beats a little less faster when you see her. You try to follow the rule of "avoidance leads to forgetfulness". You succeed partially... life seems a little better now ... at least on the surface.

Then out of nowhere.. After 2 years in the college ... on a fateful day, something happens. You are coming back from your college and since you are thinking about the India-Pakistan match that India lost yesterday.. You don't notice her approaching you from the side. Suddenly she is standing in front of you and she asks. "Hi Amit, How are you?" (Let’s assume that’s your name).

You are dumbstruck. Caught between the feeling of shock and euphoria (She KNOWS my name !!!), you mumble something ..which obviously isn't audible enough but essentially meaning that you are good and something like that.

She understands and nods appreciatively.(Why ? ..you wonder ).Then she asks ... a little awkward herself, "Do you like coffee ? "

You being the klutz you are, reply , "Yeah .. kinda.." Looking everywhere but towards her.

"Oh..good", and then there is silence -- the odd kind where nobody would speak for a while and hope that the other would somehow rescue you two from this misery.. ..the sweet misery of those early days.

"Uh... would you mind, If I walk with you for a while", says the sweet one ... the one you waited for all along, the one who descended from heaven and landed right to your heart. Is this really happening, you ask yourself and pinch hard... yeah it is !!! .. And it's not another one of you dreams you have once in a while.

Your mind runs fast, very fast ... thinking things which are unimaginable.. looking for reasons for this sudden stroke of luck .. and finally believing in GOD.

Snapped back to real world and senses, you say " I don't mind" then regret immediately and add quickly " I mean .. sure! I would love to" and sigh with relief... just hoping that she won't change her mind.

And then you start walking .. together.. for a short walk now ... and then towards the future ... where there is bliss and there is heaven... though they might doubt it ...but you do live happily ever after.

Why I wrote this all ... just to tell you what XL means to me. When I started preparing for B-School entrance exams ... XLRI Jamshedpur was such a big name for me .. that I even didn't dare to dream about XLRI Jamshedpur, with my own deficiency in Maths and XAT's reputation for Whacko Quant section. I wrote XAT like a Zombie and the only good thing I remember doing is not attempting a single questions I was not sure of. To my utter surprise and delight, I got a GD/PI call from XLRI and the rest is as they say History.

XLRI PMIR to me is like that girl I mentioned above, so wonderful that I was afraid to admit my love for her even to myself. XLRI PMIR was my dream course and I am while writing this from XL, LIVING MY DREAM.

I am in Love and I don't care who knows it :D.

XL meri jaan .. love ya !!!

The Smart Kids

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As most of the people who read it, I found both of Chetan Bhagat's books (Five Point Someone & One Night@Call Center) very interesting. But then these books are not just any interesting books. These are trend setters. Chetan Bhagat started an interesting trend of similar books. Everyone who was someone(read IITian,IIMian and XYZian) wanted to become a bestselling author and some of them actually did(e.g. Harshdeep Jolly of 'Everything you Desire").Even if they didn't, at least the cover page of their books says so, and I being a firm believer of sanctity of printed words..Believe it.

Now consider some similarities between these budding 'authors'.

They all are bright people, they are market savvy and they all know what to write and for whom to write. They have turned writing into a business plan, and a sound one at that. After all, Kotler was taught for a reason :).

Here is the list of a sample questionnaire cum checklist they all ensure to complete while writing their book.(talk about being methodical :))

Q1.Will I get a publisher?

Ans: Hell yeah!!!, there are enough Rupa Publications in market waiting for another college memoir and did I told you my IIx degree works like a magic wand ?

Q2.Who will read my book?

Ans: Apart from thousands of desperate students hoping to get into these hallowed portals, some of my college mates and few odd alumni ...phew!!! That makes it quite a sizeable customer base :)

Q3: What will I write about ?

Ans: I just finished 'Five Point Someone', So I guess I HAVE to include all the juicy details about campus life. I need to ensure my protagonist is not the very intelligent types(who like 9 graders neways :)).Don't forget to include account of male desperation and female bitchiness(Irrespective of what gender I am and how much I know about it).

And...yes, pay heed to the mushy love story amidst all the chaos I'll create, the more details better it is.I mean there HAS to be a LOVE STORY, all the Eric Segals of the world step aside , lemme show ya !!

And just like that, I have a book and Yes, I am an AUTHOR now. Even a process oriented software company will have to try hard to beat the dead on execution of these plans.

And then there are usual questions of what to wear for the photo on the book cover but then "authors" don't bother about such trivialities.(and let a image consultant do it for them ;-))

Chetan Bhagat(and all the 'inspired authors') belongs to the market savvy new breed of Indian Authors who understands economics better than human emotions. Both of his books filled the void in the Indian Book Market where Mills & Boons and usual Chic-Lit (Opel Mehta type books) is still trying hard to find their grip. He actually started a trend and what we see now is a flurry of books where the author's educational qualification matters more than the quality of what he writes. I have read some really bad books recently owing to this trend. I am sure there are many other authors who deserved to be published and read but they are left in a lurch since they don’t have flashy tag behind them.

Here are some areas of concern with these books: (Great minds think bulletwise…so do I :))

• Most of characters are caricatures, with hardly any details and effort visible from the Author.
• Juvenile stunts (at times exaggerated) remains the highlights of the book.
• Love stories are there for the same reason a Bollywood movie has songs.
• No one sincerely tries to tell a story, it HAS to be a light-hearted banter all the time ….why? Because it sells. Period.

Now before you all jump at me and blame me for being too harsh, let me tell you that I completely understand the hard work involved in writing any book. It requires a certain talent to be able to do so and I do not deny it. All those who have finished a book and got it published are achievers in every sense of the world. But I find the shallowness with which a story is told, quite discomforting. The oversimplification of issues and characters is too evident to ignore. It is not difficult to understand why a Vikram Seth, Rohinton Mistry and Arundhati Roy will belong to a different league and why some “mortals”(If I may say so) will remain mortals. Talent cannot be an excuse for mediocrity. The great authors became great authors because they were passionate about what they wrote; so you will have a Vikram Seth rewriting the whole ”The Golden Gate” and Rohinton Mistry leaving his job to turn a full time writer. These were not great milestones of a sound business plan but then writing is no business either. Writing is their métier and the fact that they are able to write what they truly want is enough for them. Money is just a happy co-incidence and the sooner our young ‘Authors’ understand it the better it will be for us readers.

Smart kids as they all are, I am sure they will understand it soon. J

PS: Rupa Publication has been there in low cost publication for quite a while now and has millions of thankful readers across the nation for making reading affordable. Cheers !!!