Tuesday, October 24, 2006


The movie is actually not that bad. In fact it’s good. Although the reviews sounded otherwise. But I guess the reviewers did something what I did not i.e. comparing it with the original DON. Come’ on, that had AB. That’s has no comparison at all.

Let’s look at the SRK’s DON in isolation.

The speed of the movie is good enough to not get you bored.

Songs are good although some of them are a straight lift from the earlier version.

SRK has been asked to do what he does best, not acting but showing off style. For example, his role as a country guy which needed some versatility has been kept as small as possible.

Boman Irani has again proved that he is a quintal of sand which could be molded into any role.

Priyanka and Isha have perfectly done the roles of working house wives, the killing beauties of underworld who do kill people apart from doing cabaret. Just that a little more skin show could have helped but………… it’s a bachelor talking.

The Hollywood style (you may call it a terrible attempt to copy but only in the comment section in my blog) direction and the twists in the end keep you glued to your seat. Or at least I was glued to my seat.

All in all it’s a typical masala movie which is a rarity in bollywood these days and “go see it” kinds. Secret to enjoy the movie is, keep your comparing hat at home.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

My three attempts to tie a knot!!!

This post is written to display humor with an expectation of reader’s ability to find some sense in it. In case you feel any part of this is intended to hurt you, you may be dead right. Please take it in lighter spirits, be wise enough to not to take anything otherwise.

“What kind of a wife do you want?” My parents asked me this question some 4 years ago and like most of the interviews I have faced, I was clueless. And I am still seeking for an answer. However, the search for my soul mate kick started last year when I was forced by the parents of both the side to go and meet a girl.

So here I was, knocking at her door. Her mother opened the door and by the look of her I soon realized to introduce myself as her daughter’s “could be would be” before to be taken as a salesman. Finally I was invited inside and the interview lasted for over an hour. At the end of it, the only person who looked to be genuinely interested in me was her mother. I doubt, given a chance, she might well have eloped with me in the same auto I came back. Actually it was a total chaos. I was interested in the girl, her mother pretended as if she wanted me to marry her younger daughter and sounded as if societal norms are forcing to hide her intentions. On the contrary I wanted a wife of my age. Finally the chaos ended in me being rejected.

That calls for a new search string and the result was to be found in my previous company. I could not hide the temptation and started using a tool for which all the Romeos and Juliet of this internet world must be thankful till Armageddon, chatting with both side pretending to be completely ignorant of the genesis of this process. After repeated requests, the girl agreed to grant me a meeting, and ran away within five minutes of meeting me. Next couple of days, I spent in front of the mirror scrutinizing if the word people use to explain my looks, terrible, should be replaced with horrible. The girl simply avoided meeting me thereafter although my ex-employer couldn’t arrange a bigger workplace for us to avoid accidental meetings. Every time I saw her, her looks forced me to realize either she did not know the meaning of word “smile” or I was the worst possible thing that could have happened to her. This was rejection number 2.

So that sends us back to the same search string with expectation of different, better and results with a changed expected result. My entire family and all my friends gave me loads of beauty tips and suavity lessons for my third encounter. I, along with the third result of same search string, decided to have a cup of coffee and lunch there after. I wanted the coffee to be as short as possible and rush for lunch. So we, rather I, started talking over the cup of coffee. She was unnaturally quiet for a female. Just a few questions here and there from her side. Like “what kind of a wife you want, working or non-working?” I answered and immediately responded with a question mixed with my innocence, “what kind of a husband you want, working or non-working?” Response was a killing glare which forced me to doubt on my mere existence. This was one of the rarest of instances of my life when my listening skills were not put to a stress test while meeting with a species of other side of sexual divide. I gave up talking after half an hour only to face a question “You seem to be a quiet person”. This surprised enhanced my hunger so I asked “Should we proceed for lunch?” “Do we necessarily have to go for lunch” was the answer pointing out the third rejection.

I some how managed to make excuses for yet another letdown and let my family members open the doors for me. Its all back to square one now and my disagreement with the definition of weaker sex is increasing day by day. Even if a fraternity, after being painfully verbose, common sensically non sensical, with logic as a distant dream and with understanding of word cricket as a game of aliens, has such a decision power in its hands that makes a male wonder if he is going to die virgin, it cannot be weaker sex. Just cannot be. Or as Suraj Badjatya forced SP Balsubramanyam to say..."Kudiyon ka hai jamaana".

Friday, September 15, 2006

When they caught me in wet pants!!!

Like any other “bubbling to blast the world with my success” representative of the generation which is still enjoying the right side of their 30s, I also dream about my future when I will make it big. I dream about those “Rendezvous with the lady in white dress” interviews where she is interrogating me with tears in her eyes and making voices as she has never been hornier. And I am answering them with all the grace, sophistication and charm; I probably would never be able to achieve in next 7 lives.

I haven’t yet prepared myself for her other questions. But I definitely have prepared myself for the answer to one of her questions. “My most embarrassing moment in life”. Let me site few of them here.

The Shobhna!!!

I was on tours during one of the very little training I have done in my life. I had gone to Vadodara and was truly amazed with the Gujju beauties. My amazement was even more so as I was coming from the lands of extreme south where every female seems to have crossed 40, either in her age or in her waist size.

But time to bid adieu came sooner than I expected. So there I was, at the platform and waiting for my train. During all my journeys, lady luck has always blessed me with the company full of experiences. M 67, F 78, M 82, F 98 and like that have been my neighbors in all my journeys. But I expected and hoped for some change this time and the lady smiled at me. I checked the reservation chart and it was F 25 Shobhana occupying the seat below me. However it was around 2:00 AM at night so I dozed off. I woke up next afternoon and decided to chuck out all my fears with opposite sex. We started talking. Although as usual, I didn’t talk much.

Growing age induces a lot of vices into your brain before it infiltrates with your body. I had developed a habit of forgetting names. But I wasn’t going to forget this lass’ name. Noway. “Shobhna, Shobhna” was what drumming inside my mind round the clock. Finally, like all good things, journey was coming to an end. We had decided to get down together, catch the same autos and proceed as our destinations were in same areas. But what the hell, we haven’t been introduced formally. She recalled it almost an hour before the train was to come to its final halt. My mind was still drumming “Shobhna, Shobhna” just to make sure its not deleted from my fading memory.

She: “Hey, we don’t know each others name?”

Me: “Yeah you are right”

She: “So what’s your name?”

Me: “Shobhna”. That is exactly how it came out. And I could see the “shock of the life” look on her beautiful face.

“What?” was the next word I could hear from her and it was the last one. Next one hour I spent outside the cozy air-conditioned compartment. As soon as the station came, I ran away faster than I have ever done in my life.

But, the name was nice… “Shobhna”.

My hobbies!!!

If first one was embarrassing, this one crosses the limit. I met this gal over one of the matrimonial sites. And like the modern catalyst of matchmaking, we started to chat. Now people knowing me also know I am a big chat addict and generally have 4-5 windows open at a time. I was also chatting with a guy friend of mine and the first three letters of his name were same as the first three letters of the girl’s name. After the first few messages, the girl asked me “What are your favorite pastime activities?”

I thought my guy had asked me this stupid question. I never miss a chance to showcase some humor in whatever I do and expect my friends to find some humor in it. And they generally do it successfully. So thinking the question had come from a guy, I wrote “I love to sh****”. It went to the girl’s window.

I realized my blunder instantly and suddenly started doing everything I do in an interview. I was sweating, shivering and trying to control my laugh. After 6-7 sentences full of sorry, the girl replied “Chalo, at least you are honest about the things you love to do.” Her cool attitude and acceptance of the fact that she was rolling over the floor laughing with her head over heals made me even more embarrassed.

I sincerely pray to God that I don’t have to face any situation worse than that but as the saying goes, “If you think situation is bad, just hold on. It can actually get worse.”

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Lage raho….

Yet another effort of generation awakening through a radio show. But it has been an entertaining effort. “Lage Raho Munnabhai” is a sequel to the previous hit “Munnabha MBBS”. But director has been intelligent enough by not connecting the two. It’s a fresh new movie; just the brand “Munnabhai” has been en-cashed. By making a sequel has saved his efforts of character building. And by not connecting this to the previous one has saved his efforts of carrying the burden of the previous movie which could have caused hara-kiri as in “Phir Hera Feri”. In fact most sequels fail because the next movie is made to encash the success of the previous one. Where as the first movie is already a complete movie in itself. So you have to mould the “the end” of the first part in the second movie. Aaaahhhh…………I am getting confused myself. The bottom-line is, the sequel seems to be better than the first movie.

The best part is, even though the movie is full of bollywood drama, it still conveys a message, tickles you with jokes you can share with your mom and grand mom. The movie is not like Karan Johar’s never ending traumatic love stories or RGV factory’s either “Bhoot” or “Bhai” products or Bhatt camp’s nonsense efforts to showcase the page 3 crowd as the face of Indian society. It’s a neat and clean movie with no hangovers or aftereffects.
Arshad Varsi and Boaman Irani have been truly amazing. And director has been intelligent enough to give them the footage they deserve. But these two actors must be thankful to their dialogue writer. He has done a great job.
All in all it a must see movie. Although it may not be as big a hit as the traumatic, the painful, the agonizing, “Kabhi Alvida Na Kahna” but we all know how the words Hits and Flops have been defined here.

Monday, July 03, 2006

Saluting the Wall!!!

Over 9000 test runs with average fast approaching 60, a resume rich with over 100 tests having missed hardly a few based on fitness basis and a reputation of strength and immense concentration really hated by bowlers across the globe. This is what Rahul Dravid’s 10 year long career is turning out to be. After a nearly missed a hundred start on debut, for next few years he was seen as a stroke less wonder born to play in the longer format and completely miss fit for the pajama cricket.

But things have changed since then. Remember his epic innings at Adelaide to win India against world champions, or 270 at Rawalpindi when he got out reverse sweeping in search of quick runs even after being so close to a triple hundred, or a century in both innings match winning effort against Pakistan in India or a 180 supporting Laxman’s epic 281 to make on of the biggest turnarounds in the history of test cricket or the match winning performance in the recent Jamaica test or….the list goes on.

Once a Sri Lankan commented on his surety of line and length against Murali, “He plays everything with his bat, why the hell on earth he needs those pads?” or Danish Kaneria wondered on his skill of facing the Rawalpindi Express, “What disheartens a fast bowlers is when a batsman plays his fast rising delivery from behind where others play. This means the pace and bounce is not surprising enough for him.”

Surprisingly, he has always been the second best performers till the last few years. When he scored a mammoth 180 against Australia in Kolkata, Laxman’s 281 took the limelight. When he scored 148 on a cloudy day in Hedinglay, Tendulkar and Ganguly’s attacking centuries made us forget him and there have been many more cases like these. But he kept disheartening bowlers by his impeccable defense, non penetrable concentration and mostly in control and faultless shot selection and execution. In a way it has been good for him. The weight of billions expectation was weathered by Tendulkar’s and Ganguly’s where he kept improving his skills and concentration. And we hardly realized our increasing dependence on him. He was a failure in 2000 in Australia; we lost by 3-0. He failed against Australia in 2004-2005 in India; we lost by 2-1. He departed early in Karachi; we lost even after a first over hat-trick by Pathan.

I have not seen Sunil Gavaskar play, but Dravid seems to be the best batsman India has ever produced especially in tests. And we all accept it in silence although we still voice out Tendulkar’s name. But no one has won/saved us as many matches as Dravid has done in the last decade, are it any form of the game. Last win, was yet another feather in his cap.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Please let me in!!!

Resuming office after resuming health is never easy. You just don’t feel like giving up the leisure of rest you have become accustomed to. But good health comes at some price.
I realized in the bus that I had forgotten the key to my office, my access card. Suddenly I was tempted to jump off the bus but I was way too far off my shelter to do that. I was told that it is easier to go back home and get your card rather than getting a duplicate card but then, my workplace and residence happen to be at two opposite extremes of the city. It was the time to realize it.
I was told at the gate by the security to get them confirmed by my manager that I was a genuine employee of the company. But it’s not that easy in the morning because people prefer replying nature’s call rather than your call. To make it worse, I had just changed my cell hence my phone book was not as rich as the earlier one. So I was waiting & waiting at the gate for any familiar and senior face to tell the security to let me in. Finally the collaboration of my networking skills and common sense helped me getting through the first barrier of security at the gate. Next was the notoriously famed administrative department. I was not only asked for all my details but also a photo ID card. Suddenly I felt like traveling in a third AC compartment on a Tatkal ticket. Enough of cribbing!!! The wait was going to be over. They were going to hand over my temporary access card to me. But hey, wait!!!! All I got was a piece of paper Xeroxed in the worst possible manner and with a signature even simpler then mine. That means in a company premises where you are being searched at the gate like Indians get searched at US airports (even my lunch box is seen with suspicion), you can roam around freely just on the basis of a piece of paper. Get it printed, sign it and do what you want. It was a perfect example of security being risked in the name of cost cutting.
Actually the entire concept of outsourcing companies runs on cost cutting. Hence they try to cut it down wherever possible with HR & Administration falling as the easiest of preys. They are treated as cost centers with extreme emphasis on cost reduction wherever possible. To hell with the good side they produce which obviously comes at a cost.
The strategy looks fine for a gorilla approach, but for growing as a part of a strong industry in a futuristic vision, this may lead to a catastrophe. One of my colleagues predicts our industry to head the typical Marwari way, may be there is some truth in his vision.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Some of My Quotes.

These are entirely my original creation. Although some of you may and will have other opinion, but if there is any similarity with the words you happen to hear or overhear sometime somewhere, it must be either a complete coincidence or my fame has emulated such a stage where people have started quoting me. If any of these hurt your sentiments, you can very well elaborate the acronym FO.
  • Satisfaction is like a mirage. You can see it from a distance, but its non existent as soon as that distance is covered.
  • Old memories are like shit-pots. One must flush them regularly else they start stinking.
  • Everyone wants to go to heaven but no body wants to die.
  • Alcohol kills slowly, but who is in a hurry.
  • Alcohol is God’s best gift to mankind. I takes you closer to him.
  • Life is a bitch. Its okay if it bites you, try doing the other way round and you will be termed an insane monster.
  • Love is like reverse sweep. Looks good only if it comes off else you regret trying it.
  • Emotions are like the drunk drivers. Just let them drive and you never know where you going to end up.
  • I wasn’t asked when I was born. I cant be held answerable if I want to die.
  • Difference between life being fair and unfair is a four letter word called Luck.
  • I was looking for complete job satisfaction. I quit and remained unemployed forever.
  • Logic is like a distorted mirror. Every angle has its own meaning.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006


I have always wondered the continuance of life. For continuance of a species which is mortal, one needs reproduction. You need almost equal population of the entities which help carrying on the process, i.e. members of both side of the sexual divide.

But I could hardly spot the equality. During my graduation, the fairer sex occupied merely 6% of the entire pie. I do not remember the data for next two years at work but it was not significant. Post graduation occupancy was definitely better than the graduation days with nearly 14% but I was still bamboozled. My state continued till I ended up in my current organization.

The organization seems to be determined to actually mean the term gender equality. Every morning I see a plethora of new females walking in to take a revenge of their so called suppression by males for ages. Every morning, my childhood dream of being surrounded by divas comes true. Please do not doubt my sexual orientation but it really feels uncomfortable to me for whom the fairer sex has always been a breed not very different to aliens. I always felt like a tourist whenever I saw one worth looking.

But every dream has a price. And what price I am going to pay? Historically, the ratio of females has been low in corporate world. But now organizations seem determined to improve it. Why? One of the silliest reasons given is, to improve the work culture. But what about the efficiency which might be jeopardized? May be it's a well thought-off, preferred and revenue increasing move so that organizations thriving on per hour rates increase the numerator.

Hence, the acceleration to improve the ratio. But as Newton suggested in one of his laws, you always need a force to generate the acceleration. The force is to give preference to so called weaker sex. And the same force might be denying the opportunities for stronger sex, somewhere. This is again an invisible, unintended reservation. And with reservation for supposedly suppressed races in private sector not beyond sight, imagine the life for males in upper castes. The pie of opportunities seems to be getting smaller and smaller for them and competition is ever so increasing. I wonder how the life is going to be for non-achievers. May be we are headed back to the days when Brahmin was a sugar coated word for beggars. God bless them.

PS: The act of writing has been done in testing conditions of "being idle at work", "heavy hangover" and "ever so empty mind". This post has also been written to intend pun and show my humor. Please do try to find it. If you are not able to, close the browser. Please do not doubt my non existent logic and start sending hate mails.


'Its better to burn out than fade away', this is what Jimmy Handrix/Some nirvana singer said before killing himself. The members of optimistic society might see his act of suicide as an act of cowardice, but I beg to differ a little bit.

Let's start with from the point it all starts. When you are born, you are not asked if you want a life or not, it's some one else who makes that choice without even taking your view in consideration. You have not even a single say in choosing the religion, family, place, time or any other measurable or immeasurable entity. So the game starts by you learning the rule of the game by start playing like a rookie and trying to master excellence. But the game doesn't give a start to everyone on even keel. Some start way ahead from others whereas some don't even get to run on the track. But the parameters to measure the performance and decide the Victorian are predefined and blindly measuring the output. No one gets a handicap for the late starts, tottering starts, brutal stoppages. It's a bloody cruel race.

But what if I don't want to run in a race I never wanted to? Why not I can easily opt out of this? After all, I wasn't asked when I was born, so no one should question me if I want to die.

Why 'suicide' is such a taboo in the society and seen as an act of cowardice? If I kill my self, it's just that I want to opt out of something that was forced upon me. May be I never wanted this.

Suicide is an act when an individual's capacity to suffer in the hands of life crosses the extremes. Capacity becomes a relative word which entirely depends on individual's tolerance towards pain. So, let the individual decide the performance of the act and respect it.

As a student of science, I have always studies the law of downhill diffusion. The only place I could spot the exception, the existence of an uphill diffusion, is life. Why should I accept the exception when the rules of real world state otherwise?

For the optimists lobbying for the life to be beautiful, it all lies in the eyes of beholder. What if my eyes refuse to accept what my mind is being told by them?
Life is an egoistic bitch; it'll put you to a test of extremism even at a slight disregard. Death is an angel, even though we are all always running away from it, it happily accepts us in our worst of forms.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Peace in Life

I just came out of cancer hospital and could have a look at the Ashram and the pupils of the Guru I better don't name on this public forum for my own betterment. I could see the aura around it. The members of the ashram, mostly with the skin having ruled us for centuries, seemed to be in complete peace with their souls, roaming around in plane simple cloths, having sips of coffee in Barista and enjoying their cigarettes. I could see the peace, satisfaction and all the words even remotely related to wisdom and Moksha. It does take courage to give up the luxuries of life and devote your self to God, completely.
All crap. It's a total status symbol nothing else. All searching for an entity with doubtful existence, God, are nothing but people lost in search after having enjoyed all the pleasures and luxuries of life. You start thinking of Moksha, peace of soul and stuff when you do not have to worry about more brutal aspects of life. Henceforth I can believe a Vinod Khanna joining such an ashram but have you ever seen an Auto wala, your vegetable vendor or you yourself going in search of such intangibles? That is because life has been cruel enough to keep them busy in quest of those luxuries, these Gurus preach to forget.
I doubt the entire concept of Moksha. If one is suggested to spend the life just in mere quest of God till it lasts, better make this expenditure shorter and kill yourself. The soul anyhow is believed to be meeting the all mighty after death if we go by the rule books of the game. God did not create us to meet him back in his world. He created us to run his industry of species in most practical and balanced way, be it good or bad.
I have always doubted the scripting of such paths leading to Mokhsa. Is it not running away from the misery of life towards the shelter of saints which is nothing but a mere act of cowardice? Life is all about fighting it hard and fighting it out. It's about killing it all before you get killed. Mysticism is not in staying in secluded aloof mountains or lush green ashrams and meditating but in facing the dirt of this very real world. The former option is a more for those who are on the right side of the term "done it all" or those who are simply too not intrepid enough. Life is like a relay race. You just pass on the baton once you finish while the race goes on. Why to quit the race in between and enjoy your air conditioned dressing room when you actually are supposed to sweat it out?
I have always doubted the scripting of such paths leading to Mokhsa. Is it not running away from the misery of life towards the shelter of saints which is nothing but a mere act of cowardice? Life is all about fighting it hard and fighting it out. It's about killing it all before you get killed. Mysticism is not in staying in secluded aloof mountains or lush green ashrams and meditating but in facing the dirt of this very real world. The former option is a more for those who are on the right side of the term "done it all" or those who are simply too not intrepid enough.
Life is like a relay race. You just pass on the baton once you finish while the race goes on. Why to quit the race in between and enjoy your air conditioned dressing room when you actually are supposed to sweat it out?

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Females in the ATM

Ever since electronic currency entered my wallet, I stopped carrying cash along with me. Being a spendthrift, that forces me to be in the vicinity of an ATM all the time and has increased the number of visits I have to make to it.

So I landed into one of the ATMs last evening only to realize the power of weaker sex once again. As ever, I was the last person in the queue with 4 divas trying to lead (???) me. If I was in the process of realization, they were in the process of self actualization. Everyone was so tensed about their withdrawal as if they were going to face the exam of their life. And as soon as they entered the ATM, they started doing something not associated with women, "think". Some great philosopher said, all great ideas come when you are replying to nature's call because that is where you take privilege of your privacy and think. It's somewhat different for women. They invariable do the soul searching inside an ATM, need not be alone. It could be in group, on phone or whatever.

But they are extremely methodical while dealing with the ATM. They check if on the two consecutive wrong entries of PIN the machine gives you a warning or not, then confirm the PIN with some one out side. Next is the time to take out the mini statement and balance enquiry follows. "Yeah, the final figure in both must match."

ATM for them is like a play ground, the guinea pig and they just love experiments. So if you are waiting outside, keep waiting. I have actually seen two females discussing the menu of the machine in the context of "if then else" scenario with a long queue outside it. Once I did a survey about the same. On an average, males take 40 seconds and females 2 minutes for their withdrawals.

Finally after some 10 minutes I was obliged with an entry in side the ATM. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The lady who was standing ahead of me in the queue had come back to check if she has forgotten her purse there and wanted to come inside only to find out there was nothing which could have been seen from outside as well.

Actually government of India must take a note and should order banks to have separate ATMs for both sides of sexual divides. A PCO, some beauty equipments, software to match the mini statement and balance enquiry figure, a television are a must for female ATMs. You can add to this list for sure.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Darna Jaroori hai-A Comic bluff

A character goes to a movie hall, ask for Samosa and get a pack of popcorns which last for the first half of the movie. This is the level of directorial mistakes Ram Gopal Verma's factory has emulated.
Darna Jaroori Hai is Ramu's another crack at the world of non- existents, the ghosts and their stories. As a producer-director, Ram Gopal Verma gives us some hope of being a savior from Yash Chopra's terribly boring love sagas or Karan Johar's never ending Family Dramas. But unfortunately he has restricted his world of movies to either underworld or Ghosts.
However, we must salute Ram Gopal Verma for his guts to experiment. Single movie, 6 different stories and each directed by a different director. It comes as a relief in the world of Bollywood where a so called legend Yash Chopra has naver had the guts to sway away from love stories or Su raj Badjaatya means only painfully long family dramas. To start your career as a Video Cassette Library owner and reach a level where you are helping others making their debut, is an effort which needs applauds.
The movie starts with a story which most logically proves that the mere existence of ghosts and the entire concept is just the genesis of human mind. It's the lack of belief in your senses because of which the belief in extra natural species rises.
Rest of the movie continues on the same lines of "Darna Mana Hai", the previous part of the movie. Even the best story is a total lift from the earlier movie. You feel like as if you are watching a skit / play competition where every team wants to showcase what it has in store for you and rush off.

The movie seems to be a comedy instead of a horror and you wonder if Ram Gopal Verma might have bluffed you for that. If someone will be really benefited from the movie, it will be Mallika Sherawat. She looks really real while portraying herself as a witch. So if she isn't getting the challenging, the off beat, the "need potential to act" roles, she can knock the Ramsey Brother's camp. They can give her a chance to play to her potential as an actress and otherwise. Initially I thought the movie as a complete waste of money, but after watching Aishwarya Rai's Hollywood venture and much awaited "Mistress of the spices", "Darna Jaroori Hai" doesn't seem to be that pathetic.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

The Baba Business

Last Sunday, I happen to visit a temple which belongs to a chain of temples across the country which has a terrific brand name. It was like many other temples, the atmosphere was a mix of spirituality, divinity and peace with few of the priests preaching people and a television showing the same thing.
Most of the priests or Babas were young, energetic and, good-looking to an extent that the female friend accompanying almost lost her heart to some of them.
Preaching spirituality has suddenly become a huge business in India. Go open your television set and you will find loads of channel dedicated only for this purpose. You will find Babas with loads of hair at least six inches below where they ought to be, lecturing about the arts of living. You won't be able to miss the quintals of garlands around their necks, the shine at their faces and their obscene obesity. Believe me; you can't have such a shining skin if you do not stay in the comforts of air conditioners, have the best of luxuries devised by science and completely avoid the cruelties of real life faced by a common man.
Like most of the senior generation, my grand mother is a very religious woman to the extent of, I dare say, blind faith. So was my late grand father. They were always too eager to host the spiritual gurus so often visiting the temple next to their houses. They all lived a much disciplined life. Get up early in the morning, get fresh, take bath which is a distant dream for most of my friends slogging in the corporate world, do their business, have food of such quality I can't afford in my salary and as the sun sets in, ask their assistants to count their daily and the process could take hours.
I had always heard, ditching the "Moh-Maya" and taking "Sanyas" in order to get "Moksha" is the most difficult way to opt for life. It needs courage. And then I used to see the bundles of green papers and wonder about my future career.
I see the entire concept of Baba preaching business is a fraud cashing in on the lack of belief people have in themselves and God. Belief in God means belief in self as God is nothing but your inner soul. Your inner conscience should guide you how to live your life. In case you have a chaos in your life, talk to people you care for and who care for you. Why to go to a stranger and ask to solve your problems by drawing parallel between your situation and any incarnation of God.
Most of them claim to believe in Hindu mythology and preach you taking instances from it. But do they follow the same? Go check, they all travel in luxury cars which you may not even get a chance to touch in your lifetime, stay in shelter even an industrialists might find difficult to afford.
One of such famous Baba's has even got a family. Does it not sound like an entirely disobeying the Hindu mythology. We have 4 "Ashrams" in our mythology representing different stages in life. And as per this, how can one exist in "Grihasth" and "Sanyas" ashram at one instance. Just look at the dramaticism he brings into his lectures especially during the festival which is most closely related to ideally most distant feeling to "Sadhuisim", lust. And he has been given the status of "Saint".
If I have read my history correctly, "Saints" are the creatures staying miles away from the luxuries of this mortal world.
But with the time inducing advancement in every aspect of life, the definition of "Saint" also seems to be changing. "Saintism" and preaching spirituality is nothing but yet another money making industry in the process of attaining maturity.
I hope God is watching the business run on his name and starts claiming the royalty one day.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Pyare Mohan!!!

Two of the most overrated actors in bollywood, a director apt at making love stories like “Dil” to vulgar epic like “Masti”, an effort to make a comedy by wasting of couple of talented actors at the cost of utilizing the so called high profile stars. That is what Inder Kumar’s “Pyare Mohan” is all about. Thankfully there are not much of poetic dialogues having potential to cause headache.

Movie starts with Boman Irani, playing an underworld don, going into the masquerade of death. With his death, die your hopes of seeing situational comedy in the first half. Pyaare and Mohan are modern deaf and blind of and old flick of B&W era, “Dosti”. “Pyare” and “Mohan” might have been physically challenged but they are blessed with every other possible art be it dancing, martial arts, singing, playing music instruments with an expertise one might take ages to achieve. They can cross buildings in such a way that could have made even Spiderman proud. But director has a justification for that. They were both stuntmen in films and an accident on the sets is the genesis of their disabilities. With in a few minutes they are able to do something I’ve not been able to do in my entire life. They fall in love that too at first sight. There loves rather cleavage revealing beautiful bomb Amrita Rao and the macho daughter of a macho father Isha Deol ditch them and rush to Bangkok. They happen to witness a murder committed by my hope for comedy in the movie, Boman Irani but strangely get acquiesced for the same. Next is the most realistic phase of the movie, TV channels showing the news again and again to an extent so that everyone gets to know about. Hence our heroes land up in Bangkok. They break commissioner’s car which is such a big crime that they end up in central jail and meet their beloveds. Somehow they all manage to run away and catch a transporter to get them India at the cost of USD 50k. Bloody it’ll take me at least 3 years to save that much if my VISA processing starts tomorrow and I go to airport straightaway after getting it. Finally we reach a typical multi star-cast movie climax where couple of heroes beat up millions of villains. Only difference is, the heroes were deaf and blind this time.

Vivek Anand Oberoi, changed name doesn’t seem to bring him any luck, and Fardeen Khan, perfect example of “you should know the place you should be born”, try making you laugh with some age old jokes and pathetic acting. Both of them deserve an oscar for putting the most expressionless faces to the camera. Every time I see a comedy movie, I badly miss Govinda in it.

Isha deol has been a real macho that seems to have bullied Amrita Rao for handing over her dialogues.

Boman Irani has been a waste of the talent. So has been the guy who has played his brother.

But the movie is not as bad as some of the recent movies I have seen. Especially the songs are audible and thankfully no Himesh Reshamiya to counter with.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Being Gay

Disclaimer: Ladies, gentlemen and the others, before you get any ideas, let me assure you that my sexual orientation is as straight as possible. In case you disagree, get a babe in front of me. My way of hungrily ogling at her as if she is some alien and I've never ever seen her, will be a proof enough for you to prove it. I am writing this post about homosexuality because I've always found the entire phenomena more than strange.

Assuming my disclaimer has been credible enough, let's start. Some days back, I was having a conversation with two females about a notoriously romantic Mumbai beach. Although the romanticism was replaced by a wierd topic, homosexuality in few minutes. Being torch bearer of our so called intellectually rich and mentally bold generation, they were in complete agreement with the concept. Their argument had a clear majority of 67% in a population of 3. "Let be open minded enough for the people to decide who they want as their partners". This is what I got to hear again and again.

People from UP have a very unique and common trait. Being true democrats, they always support majority. Go check the political trends in the state. It's just the mere existence of a 13 letter word constitution has denied us a government which has no opposition.

However, I defied this trend that evening. For all heterosexuals out there, I fought till the very last that evening and came out winning.

But being a gay, life would really be difficult. Let's discuss a normal scenario. Approximately half of the population would always be of your opposite sex. So you have to choose from a population of 50%. At least half of that will get rejected based on your search parameters assuming you are not desperate enough to have none. We are left with just 25%. At least half of them will reject you assuming based on their search parameters assuming they are not desperate enough to have none. And then the battle starts. 50% fighting for 12.5%.

For a gay, hardly 2 out for 100 might have that tendency. Hardly 1% speaks out about it and let the others know about their deviation from manly/womanly traits. Even if we broaden our base for selection/rejection parameters, the chances of finding the right partners are less than 1%. Provided they have the selection base of 100%, this is a real bad choice.

Now for the famous argument of freedom to choose love irrespective of sex, why not make animal sex socially acceptable too. Let the freedom of choosing love rest with the individual, be it male/female/animal/ghosts/anything else you can think off.

I can buy the point of getting emotionally attracted/dependent on someone or anyone. But getting sexually attracted? Sexual attraction between opposite sex is a law of nature. If you deny that, it should be treated that as an abnormality needing medical attention. Imagine, what if everyone turns gay? Wish Mandel had thought about this angel in reproduction cycle of life and given a new philosophy/theory.

PS: These are entirely my views expressed on a public forum. So in case you are a gay, please forgive me because I can't start loving you.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Maine Baba Ko Dekha Hai!!!

Banaras, ever since I heard about the movie, I was thrilled and filled with nostalgia. Having spent 4 years of my student life, decision to watch the movie was completely forced by a desire to see the city on 70mm. This desire was satisfied, but this was the only desire to be satisfied.

Movie starts with an orphan scene with Naseeruddin Shah aka Baba seeing an orphan infant and picked up by a sweeper. The kid is names Sohan and Baba inexplicably changes his name to Soham. Perhaps Himesh Reshamiya composed the background score thinking the name is Soham and the mistake was realized half way through the movie was done.

The kid grows up on the Ghats of Banaras and somehow manages to pick up the knowledge of music in depth. Oh yeah, he has a six pack too. I always wonder how come most of the bollywood heroes are born and brought up on streets and yet manage to have six pack iron pumped bodies. Also, no matter what, all have them manage to hold on to a babe. Bloody, I still belong to the under privileged strata of the society in this regard.

The guy belongs to a lower caste and faces adversities to such an effect that heroine's dad doesn't let him even touch his feet. However, he does not have much of a problem if his daughter romances with the hero in front of his own eyes and in public. Try doing it in Banaras. Having known the city well, it'll remind Adam that once he gifted you his apples and it's high time he should get them back.

Our love birds happily roam around on the streets of BHU with hands in hands. This reminds me of my friends in college days that had the privilege of a female company. You do it once and would realize the meaning of the phrase "Protective brothers for their sisters" again and again on next few days.

Suddenly the hero gets killed, heroine turns insane and the real pain starts. They get a psychiatrist to get her treated whose every breath seems to be his last. A psychiatrist for his life is shown to be psychologically so weak that even an insane girl can make him cry every time he sees her. By the time you decide to quit the movie before your patience runs out to see "The End" on screen, there is a twist in the tale. Baba turns out to be a ghost who died centuries ago. His existence is doubted by mortals. But he is charismatic to an extent that he can give some well known and respected Babas run for their money. He can treat lung cancer of final stage by just a look of his. Now every soul which is showed to have a mix of divinity in it starts claiming that " Maine baba ko dekha hai". In fact the movie should have been named so, "Maine baba ko dekha hai".

Some incidents hurt the heroine, who has a never ending name when pronounced, Shwetambari so much that she decides to move from the dirty, dusty, badly managed Banaras to a beautifully built see facing, at least Rs. 20,000/- per square feet worth bungalow in Mauritius and gets into the easiest business of preaching people. Finally movie ends after a lot of spiritually combined emotional shit.

Director has tried his best to be consistent about the ground rule set by Ramu's "Vastu Shastra". Ghosts are most of the times in whites.

In fact the movie sets a good platform about a real comic sequel. If you have been stupid enough to buy the tickets and see the movie (buying the ticket and not watching it could have been an intelligent move), imagine what if Shwetambari turns out to be a lesbian with her hot assistant or his male assistant had an affair with her mother Dimple or the Police Inspector had hots for Dimple's brother Mahamaaya or…..its all open to imagination.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

SRT.......is it the end...

As the 22nd march unfolds, it could well be the day we thought non existent. If Freddi and co. manage to celebrate 9 times and more importantly they manage to send back Mr. No.4 at a score lesser then expected, it could well be Tendulkar ‘s last innings in 132 test match career.

Master blaster, little champion, demolition man and what not? But no matter how many adjectives have been garlanded on him, but current scenario goes to show that if there is a God, he must exist in heaven. All of us on this closest star to the sun are mortals.

Life is an ironical bitch for all of as at some point of time. And Tendulkar must be feeling its pinch right now.

When a 16 year old kid saved us a test match in the land of swing and reverse swing at lightening speed, we knew we have a special talent. But it’s when he sent Abdul Qadir on a leather hunt in an exhibition match; we might well have a legend in the making. Unfortunately, for next 10 years or so, Indian batting line up meant only Tendulkar. He had to bat in a team which had talented batsmen with doubtful loyalties or loyal batsmen with doubtful talent.

There is on thing if you start your career at the age of 16. You remain a 16 year old kid until wear & tear start forcing you out again and again. And people fail to understand that it’s the age in the game which decides your control and not your actual age. So if a Sachin Tendulkar ages 33, and generally batsmen last till 36-37, we argument that he still has atleast a couple of years left in him. Also we expect him to play like he has in his prime. But those batsmen start at the age of 21-22 not 16.

Over the last few years, dependence on Tendulkar has decreased to a great extent, thanks to Dravid and young guns. Probably for the first time in his life, Tendulkar was facing least pressure to score every time he went out to bat. He must have wished it like hell in 90s. But his fitness and form seem to have betrayed him. In this age when even Bimaru states have no shortage of talent, you cannot score less than 20 and be assured of a place in the side.

So when Tendulkar walks out to bat today, it could well be the last time he would be in a test match. He is supposedly going to have a shoulder surgery which will anyway keep him out for a while. “Supposedly”, because his injury should to be looked at with some skepticism. If he had a shoulder injury so serious that it requires a surgeon’s attention, he should not have been playing at all. And such a serious injury cannot occur in a day just before the announcement of the team for the ODIs. Kaif knocking at the door, Laxman already present in the dressing room and all the Rainas waiting in the wings, he might well find bidding adieu a safer option. After all, his graceful career doesn’t deserve to end up disgracefully.

All said and done, I sincerely wish he scores a punishing ton to win us the match and proves that he was not continuing just to score 35 hundreds and play 132 tests.