How does a child grow up with so much of confusion and contradictions all around? She listens to her parents, her teachers, friends, seniors, TV gigs... overhears things... how does she interpret it? Consistency is terribly missing in this beautiful world. She is asked to speak the truth all the time, be obedient, mix with good friends in the class, not to say or listen or even see bad things. She does not understand whom to make happy and yet retain attention everywhere. How much to divulge to someone, how to read the prevailing mood and how to rise to situational expectations? She starts with believing everything that's in front of her. Alas! Not every stomach upset was preceded by a wrong choice of food, not every kid at your neighbor's house is your own sibling, not every sincere effort fetches the intended outcome. 'Trust' gets a bad name in the process. Imperfection adds way too much spice in a tender soul. Slowly a sketchy filtering algorithm gets into her brain. It's painstaking for a child because it's uneven, the patterns are pretty vague at times and are often heavily biased. The child looks for a safe harbor and end up knowing how to prioritize, please, polarize and pressurize for survival. We, the caring parents, seed the tricks of corruption into a child. It's not just the formal education or conventional trainings, but also this implicit mentoring over the childhood that produces the end result - a human being ready to present himself/herself on the stage of life where every performance will be carefully monitored and appraised. It's such an ordeal to learn "Charity begins at home".
It was a city bus, crowded with office-goers on a typical week day morning, I was on my daily lookout for stuff. The bus conductor-driver duo were desperate to invite everyone possible to join them aboard. Their interest lied in their variable pay which is directly linked to the tickets sold. Commuters were worried about reaching the workplace on time. There was a serious conflict of interests between these 2 parties. That led to verbal abuse hurled by the passengers and usual snub by the crew. This being an everyday scene, has very little hope of being resolved with a clean chit to one side. When both the parties have legitimate monetary i.e. existential interests positioned perpendicularly to each other, I can't take a side. My only bet is the ticking of the clock that listens to none - let there be enough people inside the bus to feed the crew who are battered economically - let the bus move to its destination with a clear conscience then onward. The real stuff came from a lady in dark glasses who obliged her share of social accountability by participating in the debate. She asked the quintessential question "these creatures (read the cabin crew) are never short of greed or hunger, even after a fare hike". Well, my 'sun-shy' lady, the fare hike was hardly enough to meet their legitimate demands. It was a political show more than anything else. WB continues to boast of cheapest bus fares. So have some mercy on those creatures who at times decide to fight the injustice but fail in the preparation - sometimes due to lack of backup options to feed their family, sometimes alcohol/grass fills their stomach with happiness. Besides, craving for more is a human instinct and we all suffer from that. When my job gives me a fixed pay and encourages me to 'perform' better to earn the variable components, why can't I do the honor? See, age is such a factor... I'm losing focus on the theme and straying away. The lady in question settled after a noisy start and took out a book from her bag. She started reading the book to the gallery. Dust, abuse, crowd... last but not the least, the sun... she ignored all of these pollutants and opened a Chetan Bhagat book called 'Half girlfriend'! It's the celebrity author's latest 'work' - tinged dark by the glasses of the lady, booked in advance by some film producer at a premium rate (his stories turn into the most 'bankable' scripts) - and the lady preferred it over a 'thumbule' (it's my first contribution to the English vernacular, it's devised to mean mobile phones or tabs)? OK... she is different from the mass, she just did a favor on us by getting into a bus... but I'd rather go with someone who reads a newspaper instead... and I don't care which language she prefers reading.
It was a city bus, crowded with office-goers on a typical week day morning, I was on my daily lookout for stuff. The bus conductor-driver duo were desperate to invite everyone possible to join them aboard. Their interest lied in their variable pay which is directly linked to the tickets sold. Commuters were worried about reaching the workplace on time. There was a serious conflict of interests between these 2 parties. That led to verbal abuse hurled by the passengers and usual snub by the crew. This being an everyday scene, has very little hope of being resolved with a clean chit to one side. When both the parties have legitimate monetary i.e. existential interests positioned perpendicularly to each other, I can't take a side. My only bet is the ticking of the clock that listens to none - let there be enough people inside the bus to feed the crew who are battered economically - let the bus move to its destination with a clear conscience then onward. The real stuff came from a lady in dark glasses who obliged her share of social accountability by participating in the debate. She asked the quintessential question "these creatures (read the cabin crew) are never short of greed or hunger, even after a fare hike". Well, my 'sun-shy' lady, the fare hike was hardly enough to meet their legitimate demands. It was a political show more than anything else. WB continues to boast of cheapest bus fares. So have some mercy on those creatures who at times decide to fight the injustice but fail in the preparation - sometimes due to lack of backup options to feed their family, sometimes alcohol/grass fills their stomach with happiness. Besides, craving for more is a human instinct and we all suffer from that. When my job gives me a fixed pay and encourages me to 'perform' better to earn the variable components, why can't I do the honor? See, age is such a factor... I'm losing focus on the theme and straying away. The lady in question settled after a noisy start and took out a book from her bag. She started reading the book to the gallery. Dust, abuse, crowd... last but not the least, the sun... she ignored all of these pollutants and opened a Chetan Bhagat book called 'Half girlfriend'! It's the celebrity author's latest 'work' - tinged dark by the glasses of the lady, booked in advance by some film producer at a premium rate (his stories turn into the most 'bankable' scripts) - and the lady preferred it over a 'thumbule' (it's my first contribution to the English vernacular, it's devised to mean mobile phones or tabs)? OK... she is different from the mass, she just did a favor on us by getting into a bus... but I'd rather go with someone who reads a newspaper instead... and I don't care which language she prefers reading.
The GOI has handed over a list of 627 individuals with foreign bank
accounts (created to park black money) in a sealed envelope to the SC. This is
a sticky situation for me... there are flurry of questions in my mind the
moment I hear this. I can't write all of them. It's ridiculous to be so
inquisitive in India! As my brain goes for an over-run with puzzles and reaches
the tipping point, I tend to ask irrelevant questions... just to bring myself
back to sanity. Let me ask "How I wonder what you are?" or "Where's the playground Susie". This is unethical. You can't choose 627 names and give preferential treatment to them? I've heard self-deprecation is the new comic style in Hindi movies, but you can't be so mean.
There was an article on the influence of numerology on the modern Bengali
film fraternity. A few actors and directors who are Page 3 regulars even otherwise came in to
certify numerology as an absolute and ancient science and how it changed their
lives. The good part is these people didn't hesitate to say what they believed
in and the bad part is all the goodness ends there. Their attitude to bare
their minds was far more entertaining than their movies. Some got a 'hit' film
after adding an extra letter, some had fits of positivity in their lives with a
weird spelling, and some felt healthier without a letter or two in their names.
Well, world peace was really not so distant... just these idiots came in its
way! It reminds me of a tele-astrologer (I'll talk about these fun-generators
later) who used to say her school was based on nothing but science because she
prescribed pure Brazilian crystals as remedy for all evils. Yes.... you've read it right. It's a Brazilian crystal that needs to be placed in your bedroom in order to get a job or solve marital blues or grab a property. Just when you start
feeling privy to an age old secret cure-for-all, she hits back saying it may be
counterproductive to use such a crystal unless you know the exact variety,
dimensions etc that suits your need. You'll know it only when you pay a visit
to her clinic. See, we are so desperate to show our inclination to science
that we often overlook our stupidity. All is well as long as there are readers/spectators
like me. My wife chides me for my interest in reading Page 3 stories. Like George C, I’ll perhaps never feel having enough of goofy sh*t. Things turn sour when readers start following these success cases too religiously. Most of them are speaking their mind, but they may have lost it. Why are most of our good examples in teaching honesty are actually fools? A few are paid to spread such inspiring recipe in return. They are smarter than you think they are and are here to sell things for real exchange of money. (Remember? That's the first step towards technology.)
It’s 7:15AM. I’m standing on a yet-to-be-busy street, waiting for a bus.
This is what we call a ‘main road’ – probably one of the noisiest and most
polluted roads in the city. Thanks to the time by my watch, it appeared decent.
A small procession approaches and then slowly surpasses me. To me it appears to
be some kind of an escort rally. To the front, a police patrol vehicle provided
a ‘line’ clearance. Then there were a couple of private cars. Four commando-ish
fellows guarded a relatively thicker circle of people from four corners. The
center of the crowd had 2 gentlemen with no strings attached to their worldly
bodies. The last section had of ladies. Many in this religious rally were
singing god-pleasing songs. There was a flag-bearer. The flag showed an emblem
I couldn’t decipher… some religious clan. OK… enough about the build-up. The
moral or rather the demoralizing part of the story is: Why are they performing
this nudist parade on the road? Are they really serious about not wearing
clothes? Why the just those 2 in the center and not the others? Are these the
same people who protest against any nudity or half of it in a movie or some
other art or run moral policing to define the correct dress code of women? If
they hate society and found dressing as an extremely sadistic act, what makes
them marching on a city street in broad daylight? Can’t they stay in forests or
in some isolated place? Do they miss their followers and fear loneliness? I’m
not here to question the religion or sect this parade was organized by. I’m
trying to… OK… forget it, I keep trying a lot of things… last night I tried to
sleep well… hardly achieved!
Watched Finding Fanny by Homi
Adajania. It’s made beautifully. I had seen his Being Cyrus and was impressed. This one is so enjoyably laid-back
and wonderfully enacted by the cream of actors. Goa countryside is a visual treat that sets the perfect background for such a eccentric and amusing movie. It hasn't done well in the BO and hope that doesn't deter Homi.
Yesterday it was International Men's Day. I am a bit late... by 38Y to know that... but it's really sweet. All meaningless things are usually sweetened. I was looking for an inspiration... was I? Who cares? I felt upbeat after receiving the piece of knowledge... is it going to be my day? Nervous with the hopes, I spent the day.. almost... until I found my man... a 'godman' named Mr. Rampal. A man of impeccable style and panache, who started off as a junior engineer and rose to such dizzy heights of success. The news channels tried to shake my judgement on him by maligning him and his fellow fraternity. Just because 6 lives were lost in some mock battle between the man's private militia and the state force, you can't take his achievements for a ride. Experts are saying politicians traditionally fall in the godmen's feet and let them prosper to secure vote-banks. Some say they are brokers to different business deals. And then there are women.... enough! I strongly object. Don't harass a godman. If you do, God will never forgive you. After all, like all other men, godmen are sons of God.. in fact they are the better ones, or the chosen ones. If I can't see God, I feel helpless... then I search for a bridge, a broker. Who better than a godman? He connects me to God and I follow him. God, another international male specimen I guess, was equally excited about his day yesterday. To his and my frustration, the day wasn't cheerful. Both God and I silently witnessed a fall of a giant. We earnestly hope that he rises from these transient setbacks and grows into a bigger monster. Though I didn't quite find an inspiration, I ended my men's day by blessing Mr. Rampal. When a godman is in trouble, God is obviously helpless... only I can bless him. I wish him fitness, fortune and fuller life outside prison. His countrymen not only deserve him but needs him.
Yesterday it was International Men's Day. I am a bit late... by 38Y to know that... but it's really sweet. All meaningless things are usually sweetened. I was looking for an inspiration... was I? Who cares? I felt upbeat after receiving the piece of knowledge... is it going to be my day? Nervous with the hopes, I spent the day.. almost... until I found my man... a 'godman' named Mr. Rampal. A man of impeccable style and panache, who started off as a junior engineer and rose to such dizzy heights of success. The news channels tried to shake my judgement on him by maligning him and his fellow fraternity. Just because 6 lives were lost in some mock battle between the man's private militia and the state force, you can't take his achievements for a ride. Experts are saying politicians traditionally fall in the godmen's feet and let them prosper to secure vote-banks. Some say they are brokers to different business deals. And then there are women.... enough! I strongly object. Don't harass a godman. If you do, God will never forgive you. After all, like all other men, godmen are sons of God.. in fact they are the better ones, or the chosen ones. If I can't see God, I feel helpless... then I search for a bridge, a broker. Who better than a godman? He connects me to God and I follow him. God, another international male specimen I guess, was equally excited about his day yesterday. To his and my frustration, the day wasn't cheerful. Both God and I silently witnessed a fall of a giant. We earnestly hope that he rises from these transient setbacks and grows into a bigger monster. Though I didn't quite find an inspiration, I ended my men's day by blessing Mr. Rampal. When a godman is in trouble, God is obviously helpless... only I can bless him. I wish him fitness, fortune and fuller life outside prison. His countrymen not only deserve him but needs him.