Talking about the times when India wasn't busy with the 3g.
India has reached 1.21 billion as per census 2011 just a wee bit less than China(if you are going to trust government figures, that is) which is thrice our size.
And we thought cricket was our favorite sport.
After having celebrated 'baby making day' for like, forever, I am reminded of a quote . . .
Albert Einstein said: We owe a lot to the Indians, who taught us how to count, without which no worthwhile scientific discovery could have been made. Indians love counting: Tendulkar's centuries, political scams, scandalous affairs etcetra. Turned out we liked counting so much that we are now 1.21 billion and still counting.
As the Bachhan family is very well helping Indian government's cause by making shows like 'Shaniwar ki raat Amitabh ke saath' but that isn't helping, it's just one day what about the rest of the week!
And when junior Bachhan came up with the Idea of making people busy with the 3g, it didn't work either. As I don't, however, see our government handing out free mobile phones to Indians because one of government officials said 'Mr Prime minister 3g provides faster internet people will download malicious stuff, then they get aroused, wrong strategy.'
One advice I gave Mr Manmohan Singh was to make Mr Suresh Kalmadi the chairman of Lokpal committee and give permission to every Indian to fast with Anna Hazare. When he did not listen to me I told him, 'at least make it mandatory for every Indian to appear for CA finals.' Or put up posters of Poonam Pandey in a campaign called, 'this is why you shouldn't have kids.'
I am thinking of making a sitcom on Indian population like the west like 'How I met you mother, however instead of naming it, 'how I met your mother,' we could name it . . . 'WHY I met your mother,' I think that will make more sense.
If you looked at us you wouldn't notice anything extraordinary that would suggest our prowess in cricket or . . . Other sports.
It's all our ancestor's fault. You see, if you remember. Then: women always covered their faces in veils, while forgetting to put the veil where they so desperately needed. And then you had unemployment and no electricity so people barely had anything to do at night, except showcase their machismo to tacit bhartiya naaris.
Apparently BMC has spent about 3.5 crore on sterilizing dogs. Extripation or castration is supposed to be the solution for many conduct related problems for male dogs.
So when Indira Gandhi did it they called it an emergency, quite a term, I say. Although, as a writer using such references are more potentially fatal than remotely entertaining. Thusly, I shall speak of that some other time.
Obviously, as the government has found out, the poor are the worry.
Because it's acceptable to point fingers at the poor than to spend money on educating them. Those starved won't even go on a fast to protest;food is all they are living for. Poor are kind, loving and wise in their own way. For them having their kids is a fortune, something that calls for cheerful celebration; to praise the moon of its various declensions and beauty is for us. They believe that a man can build a castle and not the other way around. For them: the child is their moon.
You see, in India, the poor have the obligation to remain poor so that they can sew, out of animal skin, boots that make your delicately precious legs incomparably pretty, so that they can clean city's dirt and sewer with their own hands after being robbed of their land for a corporate need of infrastructure and globalization. And certainly, their kids, he, who's mother was dried of milk when he was born because of malnutrition and his bare body which to you would look like it has been put together by a series of bones and a layer of discolored skin, his stomach, deformed of being callously unfed, and his eyes would look like holes in a mint leave, dried of tears for he can't shed any while looking at an ice cream, or whatever is left of it anyway, after the cone is thrown out of a car by a rosy cheeked kid who's parents call it an act of naughtiness.
And all this, of course, happens in a planet which can't survive without food.
I apologize if you find my sense of humour disgusting, or my sense of compassion appalling. Because we are talking about the poor and if there is something that can be done about population, that would be, as done earlier, to begin with castrating the poor one by one along with dogs, that is. You see, it is my long held belief that the poor don't deserve the right to nutritious food or access to education, or the right to even smile;and if someone happens to cross his limits, a BMW of a drunk rich lad will, of course, run him over by the time he is half way through his smile.
And I forthrightly approve of it inasmuch as his death doesn't change the fact that he still remained a poor or that his odor was awful or that he wasn't wearing clothes or looked ugly or he didn't have a house and his jute bag woven hut happens to be in the way of a speeding BMW or may be because the rich lad just . . . found him repulsive.
In the largest democracy in the world(for the privileged anyway) killing turned into shame before it turned befitting, so much so that they started to kill themselves the moment somebody used that vehement, terror-striking word:Democracy! I mean, look at farmers of Andhra Pradesh. Only if they had told the government that they had a bit of land. But again Commonwealth and 2g scams are enough money to quench their thirst for now.
Although writing this is as likely to help the problem of population as liking Anna Hazare's page on Facebook likely to eradicate corruption. There isn't much hope poking around my optimistic head you see.
This is India because One day Wasko Dagama landed in this place and called in India. This is India because some day someone named a pool of flowing water 'Indus river.'
Beside the indus river
Sits the greatest democracy ever.
Some call it the emerging dominion,
Some the cruelest hypocrisy ever.
Oh ! It is not baring it all yet.
It is Just the fullest monty ever."
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Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Being Suicidal
Have you ever tried to kill yourself? Not that I am suggesting, but you know, like a passing thought. I mean, has it ever crossed your mind? The idea of killing yourself, because if it did, and if you did try to kill yourself, you’d be called being suicidal. They have a name for this in psychology, I can’t quite remember. It’s a funny name, some sort of psychiatric name for hopelessness. They say it’s out of depression or I don’t know may be because you have been sitting around doing nothing, except for putting on weight.
All right, then, what would you use? An Italian stiletto to slice your wrist or a jump from the roof, perhaps, or sleeping pills? Yeah! Sleeping pills that will put you to sleep forever, but there is every chance of you not dying at all, and you might end up waking up convulsing in a hospital room surrounded by flowers and friends and relatives who are looking at you with over-eager eyes but are really fuming inside, for you have ruined their other wise fine day. Gosh! That’s embarrassing. You might as well have died. You see, death must be grand. Grandeur never ceases to amaze people. We plan for possibly everything that we can, except for the most certain thing in our life.
The fastest way is to strangulate yourself, but that will take lot of set-up time, a rope, a chair, hangman’s noose, and something to hang it to. After all that you are not even sure whether you are goanna get it right. That’s hard work, I say. And I have always believed, ‘why work hard for something you are not getting paid for,’ and besides many celebrities have hanged themselves to death so it’s pretty boring. Isn’t it?
I am not depressed, I suppose; or perhaps I am and I just don’t know it yet. I guess I must be really depressed to write something like that. I don’t know. I haven’t proofread it yet, and I am not going to read it again. No, not this piece, not this time. But it sure though looks like a wretched piece of shit, the way its going. It certainly isn’t what I sat down to write. I wanted to write a joke, something funny. This, however, looks pitiful, like a guy whose life is spent heartbroken or in contemptuous desolation. Desolation! Yeah, that’s the word. It means bleak and empty. Apposite, I guess. Honestly, I don’t have a fucking clue what I am writing. But I am writing all the same. It’s frustrating. I mean, it’s like you go into the bathroom to brush your teeth and end up cleaning the wash basin with toothpaste. Sometimes I feel I am not fun anymore, like an old whore who falls asleep half way through sex.
Have you ever read a bare act or statute? When they amend it they add a proviso to it. I like the way it begins, ‘notwithstanding anything contained in this act,’ it means whatever you’ve read so far can go to hell, for what you are going to read will over-rule everything. I wish life was like that, where you can amend things and over-rule everything.
Animals never kill themselves. It’s the species with smarter brains that do. That brings me back to the topic of killing myself. Oh! Don’t worry. I am not going to kill myself, I wasn’t going to; it’s just a thought. I am sorry if I scared you. I am just venting. A shrink once told me, ‘you have to vent, let go,’ he said, ‘ take a deep breath and now hold on to it . . . keep holding on to it. Do you feel suffocated?’
I gave him a sluggish nod. ‘Now let go,’ he said, ‘do you feel relaxed?’ of course I do you fucking nut job, my lungs have oxygen now. But I got the point. I need to let go. I have found a good way, I say. Just write . . . anything that comes to my mind, no matter how fucking useless that is, for I can’t be taking it out on people. When I am displeased I shouldn’t be displeasing others. It’s easy to take it out on people, say few harsh words. Sure, if I condemn others it will relieve my feelings, but what will I get out of it. A hollow sense of pride, a feeling that I can be just as cruel; and what have I given, a boiled sense of resentment, hurt, pain and possibly no respect left for me either. Oh! Enough for now. Eh? Okay, let’s have a vote: reasons to kill myself? Do you really think I am goanna give up my life just because I have been feeling low? Naah! Not really. I think I am goanna stick to reasons to live and that’s aplenty. Like this jaded post, a reason to be pissed off. Let’s find a reason to be happy. A way not to hate but a way how to love.
-For a dear friend
All right, then, what would you use? An Italian stiletto to slice your wrist or a jump from the roof, perhaps, or sleeping pills? Yeah! Sleeping pills that will put you to sleep forever, but there is every chance of you not dying at all, and you might end up waking up convulsing in a hospital room surrounded by flowers and friends and relatives who are looking at you with over-eager eyes but are really fuming inside, for you have ruined their other wise fine day. Gosh! That’s embarrassing. You might as well have died. You see, death must be grand. Grandeur never ceases to amaze people. We plan for possibly everything that we can, except for the most certain thing in our life.
The fastest way is to strangulate yourself, but that will take lot of set-up time, a rope, a chair, hangman’s noose, and something to hang it to. After all that you are not even sure whether you are goanna get it right. That’s hard work, I say. And I have always believed, ‘why work hard for something you are not getting paid for,’ and besides many celebrities have hanged themselves to death so it’s pretty boring. Isn’t it?
I am not depressed, I suppose; or perhaps I am and I just don’t know it yet. I guess I must be really depressed to write something like that. I don’t know. I haven’t proofread it yet, and I am not going to read it again. No, not this piece, not this time. But it sure though looks like a wretched piece of shit, the way its going. It certainly isn’t what I sat down to write. I wanted to write a joke, something funny. This, however, looks pitiful, like a guy whose life is spent heartbroken or in contemptuous desolation. Desolation! Yeah, that’s the word. It means bleak and empty. Apposite, I guess. Honestly, I don’t have a fucking clue what I am writing. But I am writing all the same. It’s frustrating. I mean, it’s like you go into the bathroom to brush your teeth and end up cleaning the wash basin with toothpaste. Sometimes I feel I am not fun anymore, like an old whore who falls asleep half way through sex.
Have you ever read a bare act or statute? When they amend it they add a proviso to it. I like the way it begins, ‘notwithstanding anything contained in this act,’ it means whatever you’ve read so far can go to hell, for what you are going to read will over-rule everything. I wish life was like that, where you can amend things and over-rule everything.
Animals never kill themselves. It’s the species with smarter brains that do. That brings me back to the topic of killing myself. Oh! Don’t worry. I am not going to kill myself, I wasn’t going to; it’s just a thought. I am sorry if I scared you. I am just venting. A shrink once told me, ‘you have to vent, let go,’ he said, ‘ take a deep breath and now hold on to it . . . keep holding on to it. Do you feel suffocated?’
I gave him a sluggish nod. ‘Now let go,’ he said, ‘do you feel relaxed?’ of course I do you fucking nut job, my lungs have oxygen now. But I got the point. I need to let go. I have found a good way, I say. Just write . . . anything that comes to my mind, no matter how fucking useless that is, for I can’t be taking it out on people. When I am displeased I shouldn’t be displeasing others. It’s easy to take it out on people, say few harsh words. Sure, if I condemn others it will relieve my feelings, but what will I get out of it. A hollow sense of pride, a feeling that I can be just as cruel; and what have I given, a boiled sense of resentment, hurt, pain and possibly no respect left for me either. Oh! Enough for now. Eh? Okay, let’s have a vote: reasons to kill myself? Do you really think I am goanna give up my life just because I have been feeling low? Naah! Not really. I think I am goanna stick to reasons to live and that’s aplenty. Like this jaded post, a reason to be pissed off. Let’s find a reason to be happy. A way not to hate but a way how to love.
-For a dear friend
Monday, July 18, 2011
The insider story on Mumbai Bomb blast
Yes, it is the insider’s story of the Mumbai bomb blasts. Who is the insider? I am the insider. When I went inside the Prime minister’s house I couldn’t find Manmohan Singh, he had gone to Sonia Gandhi’s house to deliver pet bottles of mineral water along with a fresh Omelet made from his own hands and European apple salad that he would claim his own too. After the bomb blast in Mumbai, they had arranged a meeting with Barak Obama, who hunted down Osama in Pakistan, to discuss the issues of terrorism in India. And I secretly hid behind the curtains, I was sure nobody will suspect because walls have ears but curtains don’t.
When Manmohan singh took Obama inside the prime minister’s house, he started introducing him with the people inside the room. ‘He is my finance minister Mr Pranab Mukherjee, Manmohan singh said. Pranab comes forward to greet Obama.
‘hello sir.’
‘Why are you spitting on me, man! Obama says.
Manmohan sing interrupts, ‘he is not spitting, that’s his specialty sir, he is like your dog, loyal and full of froth. Anyway come here and meet our home minister Mr. Chitambaram.’
‘What is he wearing,’ Obama asks.
‘He is wearing dhoti, you remember Mahatma Gandhi who ran around the country half naked wearing only this, to shoo British away, tats our traditional dress sir, sort of trouser only, just not stitched, that’s all. Okay come here, he is my financial adviser, Mr Aluwalia, potato fellow, looks like a potato too, haha. And Mr. Kapil sibbal, who is handling our anti lokpal bill, sorry, anti corruptions bill, what to do truth comes out. Meet our general secretary Soniya ji, very intelligent sir, she is Italian and she likes all the American songs.’
When asked why doesn’t Manmohan singh make a public statement, an assurance of sorts like he does in America, Sonia Gandhi interrupts and says, ‘he is trying hard to get to the bottom of it, really busy with that issue itself.’ That was not quite accurate, that was more like saying he doesn’t know what he is talking about or he shouldn’t say a word because he looks stupid.
‘Hey Manmohan, what can I say? You must have vigilant intelligence and strong security systems to stop these attacks.’
‘Sir, we have everything, from smart intelligence to patriotic policemen to a strong army to lots of ambulances, we also have prime minister’s relief fund from which we give compensation packages to victims and homicides.’
‘Then, why don’t you use them to prevent attacks.’
‘You haven’t heard that saying. Have you? If it ain’t broke why fix it. Anyway, tell me how did you manage to get so much money to bail out American banks. I know I know. Printing extra notes, right? We do it sometimes, and then we deposit them in Swiss banks.’
‘I thought we were going to discuss terrorism.’
‘Oh come on! You think this is some sort of news channel that we’ll talk about terrorism and the spirit of Mumbai. That we’ll call some poor chaiwallah from the streets of Mumbai who will cry and tell his tragic story in Hindi on an English news channel and win great journalism awards. No! That’s media’s job, it’s time for us to relax. Thank god we had couple of train accidents and now this bomb blast, this will distract the media from anti-corruption bill and the one lakh crore treasure of travancore that we found.’
‘Oh cool! You are just like us, now I can be myself and stop pretending like Theodore Roosevelt. But hey! You look kind of weird, you know, you must look firm and why don’t you use your hands, like I do, you know, it’s called body language, you must have personality and stuff man!’ Obama says.
‘I was working really hard to get that noble prize for peace sir, with my peaceful demeanor and having not attacked Pakistan even after 26/11. I really thought I was in with a chance, but you stole it and then killed Osama, anyway congratulations for winning sir.’ Manmohan sing responds holding two glasses of Johnny walker scotch.
‘I heard you arrested this yoga guru. Why? Yoga is one of the two best things your country ever gave America, the other being Kamasutra, of course.’
‘We had to do something about this Ramdev phenomena, for starters he was fighting against corruption and due to his yoga gyan our Soldiers were turning into vegetarians sir, which is not a good news, how are we going to fight with fifty million meat eating Pakistani’s with our stomachs full of plants, I heard their soldiers carry large stocks of chickens, goats, and lambs with them. And their government gives out free alcohol on the border, sir. The only time we give out free alcohol is when we have the elections.’
That’s when Chidambaram cuts him short and says, ‘we must get back to the point.’
‘Yes yes, sir, he is also a vegetarian no, he is very similar to your predecessor George Bush, both of them have had shoes thrown at them by journalists. haha’
‘So what are you going to do about terrorism in India, Manmohan.’
‘Arey don’t you follow news, especially the controversial ones. Rahul baba has said at news a conference that 1% of the attacks will get through. Something’s wrong with the city I tell you, first, after 1993 attacks we changed its name to Mumbai from Bombay, you see, the name made it the centre of attraction, Bom-bay. Bomb-ay. But still it has had bomb blasts, but it’s alright, Rahul baba has already said, one percent of the attacks will get through.’
Potato fellow comes and says, ‘sir media people have come, India wants answers. One of them had said.’
‘I think I have to leave you sir, you heard it. India wants answers.’
‘Are you nervous, Manmohan.’
‘I am not nervous. Quite frankly, I am not concerned about India’s security sir.Here people need things to talk about. Here people spend more time standing in queues than worry about security. Here people are more concerned about buying bread than security. Here people spend more time watching cricket or a movie than worry about security. Sir it’s India, after all, it’s a country of crazy people. Here people die. They die everyday. Some from train accidents, some from bomb blasts, some from hunger, some from too much food, some die because don’t have money, some because of too much money. You see, India is a country of rats. We run for our lives, until we find a hole for ourselves to hide in . . . Sheltered, cloistered . . . afraid. They call me the most honest man in India sir, but I am one of them, I am also a rat,’ Manmohan said and walked away.
When Manmohan singh took Obama inside the prime minister’s house, he started introducing him with the people inside the room. ‘He is my finance minister Mr Pranab Mukherjee, Manmohan singh said. Pranab comes forward to greet Obama.
‘hello sir.’
‘Why are you spitting on me, man! Obama says.
Manmohan sing interrupts, ‘he is not spitting, that’s his specialty sir, he is like your dog, loyal and full of froth. Anyway come here and meet our home minister Mr. Chitambaram.’
‘What is he wearing,’ Obama asks.
‘He is wearing dhoti, you remember Mahatma Gandhi who ran around the country half naked wearing only this, to shoo British away, tats our traditional dress sir, sort of trouser only, just not stitched, that’s all. Okay come here, he is my financial adviser, Mr Aluwalia, potato fellow, looks like a potato too, haha. And Mr. Kapil sibbal, who is handling our anti lokpal bill, sorry, anti corruptions bill, what to do truth comes out. Meet our general secretary Soniya ji, very intelligent sir, she is Italian and she likes all the American songs.’
When asked why doesn’t Manmohan singh make a public statement, an assurance of sorts like he does in America, Sonia Gandhi interrupts and says, ‘he is trying hard to get to the bottom of it, really busy with that issue itself.’ That was not quite accurate, that was more like saying he doesn’t know what he is talking about or he shouldn’t say a word because he looks stupid.
‘Hey Manmohan, what can I say? You must have vigilant intelligence and strong security systems to stop these attacks.’
‘Sir, we have everything, from smart intelligence to patriotic policemen to a strong army to lots of ambulances, we also have prime minister’s relief fund from which we give compensation packages to victims and homicides.’
‘Then, why don’t you use them to prevent attacks.’
‘You haven’t heard that saying. Have you? If it ain’t broke why fix it. Anyway, tell me how did you manage to get so much money to bail out American banks. I know I know. Printing extra notes, right? We do it sometimes, and then we deposit them in Swiss banks.’
‘I thought we were going to discuss terrorism.’
‘Oh come on! You think this is some sort of news channel that we’ll talk about terrorism and the spirit of Mumbai. That we’ll call some poor chaiwallah from the streets of Mumbai who will cry and tell his tragic story in Hindi on an English news channel and win great journalism awards. No! That’s media’s job, it’s time for us to relax. Thank god we had couple of train accidents and now this bomb blast, this will distract the media from anti-corruption bill and the one lakh crore treasure of travancore that we found.’
‘Oh cool! You are just like us, now I can be myself and stop pretending like Theodore Roosevelt. But hey! You look kind of weird, you know, you must look firm and why don’t you use your hands, like I do, you know, it’s called body language, you must have personality and stuff man!’ Obama says.
‘I was working really hard to get that noble prize for peace sir, with my peaceful demeanor and having not attacked Pakistan even after 26/11. I really thought I was in with a chance, but you stole it and then killed Osama, anyway congratulations for winning sir.’ Manmohan sing responds holding two glasses of Johnny walker scotch.
‘I heard you arrested this yoga guru. Why? Yoga is one of the two best things your country ever gave America, the other being Kamasutra, of course.’
‘We had to do something about this Ramdev phenomena, for starters he was fighting against corruption and due to his yoga gyan our Soldiers were turning into vegetarians sir, which is not a good news, how are we going to fight with fifty million meat eating Pakistani’s with our stomachs full of plants, I heard their soldiers carry large stocks of chickens, goats, and lambs with them. And their government gives out free alcohol on the border, sir. The only time we give out free alcohol is when we have the elections.’
That’s when Chidambaram cuts him short and says, ‘we must get back to the point.’
‘Yes yes, sir, he is also a vegetarian no, he is very similar to your predecessor George Bush, both of them have had shoes thrown at them by journalists. haha’
‘So what are you going to do about terrorism in India, Manmohan.’
‘Arey don’t you follow news, especially the controversial ones. Rahul baba has said at news a conference that 1% of the attacks will get through. Something’s wrong with the city I tell you, first, after 1993 attacks we changed its name to Mumbai from Bombay, you see, the name made it the centre of attraction, Bom-bay. Bomb-ay. But still it has had bomb blasts, but it’s alright, Rahul baba has already said, one percent of the attacks will get through.’
Potato fellow comes and says, ‘sir media people have come, India wants answers. One of them had said.’
‘I think I have to leave you sir, you heard it. India wants answers.’
‘Are you nervous, Manmohan.’
‘I am not nervous. Quite frankly, I am not concerned about India’s security sir.Here people need things to talk about. Here people spend more time standing in queues than worry about security. Here people are more concerned about buying bread than security. Here people spend more time watching cricket or a movie than worry about security. Sir it’s India, after all, it’s a country of crazy people. Here people die. They die everyday. Some from train accidents, some from bomb blasts, some from hunger, some from too much food, some die because don’t have money, some because of too much money. You see, India is a country of rats. We run for our lives, until we find a hole for ourselves to hide in . . . Sheltered, cloistered . . . afraid. They call me the most honest man in India sir, but I am one of them, I am also a rat,’ Manmohan said and walked away.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Greatest movie list of all time by the greatest critic of all time
Okay, not the greatest list of all time, and also not by the greatest critic of all time, but it’s a list, and we all have lists, we already have about a zillion lists.We all know that lists are shit, but we must have them, for I believe, if everybody’s a king then who is the king. Eh? Critics will give you all kinds of reasons why such movie is the greatest, now that reason will be basically based on their ideologies, interests, understanding, taste and state of mind. So we should not compare movies, especially of different generations, but that isn’t going to stop me. Is it ?
So I am going to present to you my very own biased list of top movies, no, it’s not biased, it’s not the list of my favorite movies but the list of best movies.
I would like to thank Rohan Dave for introducing me to the classics, and Rishi Ondhia for giving me all the horror flick DVD’s, and Deepak Soni with whom I saw all the dude movies and also to all the girls who accompanied me to romantic comedies and animation movies, and a special thanks to my dad who took me to a play called ‘Muawza’ by Bhism Sahini when I was 15..
My apologies to these movies, for I haven’t seen them, Lawrence of Arabia, Citizen Cane, Benhur, Apocalypso Now, Space odysy 2001, Dr Strangelove, Rear Window. They couldn’t make the list.
Top ten movies of all time
10. The lord of the rings. The return of the kings
Dir: Peter Jackson
One of my favorite director, who also gave us king kong that nobody talks about which I think was as good a Avatar if not better. This movies won 11 oscars and is a classic. This movie is what I call doing the impossible. The books were too huge and too complex to be made into a movie unlike Harry Potter which is more screenplay and less writing. Peter Jackson take a bow.
9. Vertigo
Dir: Alfred Hitchcock
There was a big fight among Psycho, Vertigo and North and northwest. I am still not sure if I have made the right choice. He is known as the king of suspense and mystery. I’ll tell you what he should be known as king of drama and intrigue. I am yet to see rear window. I’ve heard a lot about it. What’s remarkable in vertigo is that it doesn’t take you by surprise and nothing is hid from the audience. ‘I don’t believe in suspense like a mystery novel where the reader gets to the last page out of curiosity and does not go through emotions.’- Hitchcock
8. Inception/The dark knight
Dir:Christopher Nolan
'Don't talk like you're one of them! You're not... even if you'd like to be. To them you're just a freak, like me. They need you right now, but when they don't, they'll cast you out. Like a leper. See, their morals, their "code"... it's a bad joke, dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you. When the chips are down, these uh, these "civilized people", they'll eat each other. See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve'
Excuse me people, I’d like to direct your attention towards the most original, and innovative, and probably the best director of modern times. Mr. Christopher Nolan.
The dark Knight or Inception, The dark Knight or Inception. These were the thought going into my head, although I agree that dark knight was more complete movie than inception. With breath taking performances from Heath Ledger
7. Forest Gump
Directed By Robert Zemeckis
A man who’s IQ is 75, doesn’t understand war but becomes a part of it, wins medal of honour, all of a sudden realizes he has tremendous running skills, enters white house 3 times, becomes a major shareholder, and not for a single moment you would ask for justification. Tom hanks plays the most endearing character, so much so that I am tempted to say it’s a godly performance from him.
6. Raging bull
Dir: Martin Scorsese
Here comes the dude of all time, Robert Deniro. And another dude of all time Joe Pesci and another dude of all time Martin Scorsese. They get together and create Raging Bull, Casino and goodfellas. Raging bull is a cult classic directed by my favorite. Its an incredible movie. It’s a story of a boxer who is raw and talented but then turns into a self obsessed, paranoid man who loses everything but his pride. The depiction of boxer LaMotta and then of a retired corpulent boxer is amazingly portrayed by Robert Deniro. Since films release varying interpretations have been made of the way it’s been shot and it symbolism. Here the monologue by deniro sitting in front of the mirror.
5. Schindler’s list
Dir: Steven Spielberg
Dark, sobering and also invigoratingly dramatic,’Schindler’s list’ will make terrifying sense to anyone, anywhere.-N.Y.Times. That sort of sums it up. I have personally liked everything that the man has made The Jurassic series, jaws, minority report, Indiana jones, the terminal. There is no doubt that he is best director in the industry. A businessman comes to war spoiled Poland and becomes a super hero. It’s haunting and heroic at the same time. Tremendous camara angles, the real looks even more real. Spielberg’s best work till date.
4. Annie hall
Dir: Woody Allen
Annie: ‘That’s so clean out here.’
Alvy: ‘that’s because they don’t throw their garbage away, they turn it into Television shows.’
‘Don’t you see the rest of the country looks upon New-York like, we are left wing, communists, jewish, homosexuals, pornographers? I think of us that way sometimes and I live here.’
Clever and classic, I read it’s screenplay before I saw the movie, and I was blown away. What’s extraordinary is that how your cheeks and stomach hurt out of laughing so much. Its satirical, irreverent and real. Alvy singer played by Allen says, ‘I’d never belong to a club that would have me as member.’ Which simply means, how you can expect the society to accept you when you cannot accept yourself ?
3. The godfather
Dir: Francis Ford Coppola
One day Mario Puzo, Francis Ford Coppola and Marlon Brando got together to indulge in a project that will keep multitudes of filmmakers intrigued and fascinated over generations at the greatness of their work. In the movie nothing is what it seems. War of mafia families, double crosses, standing by your family, standing by your word. That’s the heart of the movie. It’s innovative and riveting the way the killing have been shot. It sets a benchmark for compelling storytelling. It’s needless to say it’s more than a mafia film.
If you want to learn film-making, watch it, and watch it again, and watch it over and over again.
2. China town
Dir: Roman Polanski
Why is china town rated better than godfather, you want to ask? Because china town is original, that’s your answer. Flawless. Flaw-less, I have to say it again.. Not even a singe error. Thrilling, intriguing, shocking, high voltage drama. Roman Polanski takes a detective story and turns into brilliance. Mr. J.J. Gittes, played magnificently by Jack Nicholson is a detective trying to solve infidelity cases and stumbles on a case where drinking water is going to be drawn out of LA and then as plot reveals itself, turns into much more complex drama, as the major conflicts grow deeper, a more darker secret would unveils, that will be as shocking a the word. The controversial climax is an act of bravery and takes the movie to a insurmountable heights.
1. The Shawshank Redemption
Written and directed by : Frank Darabont
Rating: Beyond 5 stars
‘Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, may be the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.’
‘I have no idea to this day what they were
Aah… can’t say a word. It’s beyond words. Beyond description. A triumph . . . Ineffable . . . Hope, our biggest strength, which give us faith and belief , hope, that makes you wake up every morning, with a belief that you can be what you can to be… Beautifully written, perhaps the best written scripts ever. A masterpiece that captures the drama of friendship, resilience and hope.
Screw Oscars for not voting for it. The movie has encapsulating moments. When red, Morgan freeman searches the fields for Andy’s, Tim Robbins, and what he finds under the stone, that scene will make your blood scream into your veins, and your body will explode with emotion, and your heart will be filled with joy.
'I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't wanna know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful it can't be expressed in words, and it makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you those voices soared, higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.'
‘Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free.’
My favorites but missed my list
10. Closer
9. King Kong
8. Tropic thuder
7. Pulp fiction
6. Rainman
5. The Aviator,
4. The Pursuit of Happiness
3. Philadelphia
2. Little miss sunshine
1. Taxi driver
Top ten Horror movies of all time
It’s a genre that hasn’t hat too much respect from the Industry nor from festivals and awards, But I believe it’s the most exiting genre of movies. No body likes being scared but we still want to do things that scare us, we want to get out adrenalin pumping. It’s such a rush, I tell you. Two weeks ago I saw 40 minutes of The Shining and it was chilling, I couldn’t see it because my friend was too scared to watch anymore, so it couldn’t make the list.
10. Friday the 13
9. The omen
8. The Texas chainsaw massacare
7. Hellraiser
6. The exorcism of Emily rose
5. A nightmare of Elm Street
4. Grudge
3. The silence of the lambs
2. The sixth sense
1. Paranormal Activities
My favorites but missed my list
5. The ring
4. Jeepers creepers
3. The exorcist
2. SAW
1. The orphan
Top 10 super hero movies
10.The incredable hulk
9.Batman returns
8.X-men origins
7.Superman returns
6.Batman begins
5.X-2
4.Batman
3.Iron Man
2.King kong
1.The dark night
My favorite movies but missed my list
My favorites are in the list, so to speak. Sorry guys. Spiderman is not a movie. It’s something you do when you have nothing else to do.
Top ten animation movies of all time
It all started with Ducktales and Mowgali, story that had griiping storyline and tremendous fun, and all the following movies are equally good as any non-animation movies, if not better. How some animated characters have the ability to make you cry laugh and wonder at genius.
10. Shrek
9. Cars
8. Kung Fu Panda
7. Finding Nemo
6. The Incredibles
5. Wall-E
4. Madagascar
3. Toy Story 1
2. Toy story 2
1. Toy story 3
Top ten Romcoms
My apologies to Mr. woody allen for not having seen Hannah and her sisters and Manhattan and also to My big fat Greek wedding, As good as it gets, and Scent of a woman. I am pretty sure some of them would have made it to the list.
10. One fine day
9. Along came polly
8. The break up
7. P.S. I love you
6. Bridget jones diary
5. love actually
4. Serendipity
4. Moulin rouge
3. Shakespeare in love
2. Pretty woman
1. Sleepless in Seatle
My favorite movies but missed my list
10. tom cruise canaroon diaz
9. Emma
8. The Duke
7. No stings attached
6. Forgetting Sarah Marshall
5. Four wedding a and a funeral
4. Runaway bride
3. 50 first dates
2. French kiss
1. When harry met sally
Top 10 bollywood movies of all time
Every attempt that I made to get to the ‘best’ movies of all time and not ‘my’ favorite movies of all time has endeavored to arrive at modification and thereafter some more modifications until I came to a point where I couldn’t decide, because how can I make the list without having seen Pyasa, Kagaz ke phool, Sahib bibi aur ghulam, Madhumati, Awaara, Salaam Bombay, Satyakam and Ardhsatya. What’s worse is that I have seen bits of each and they are brilliant.
My apologies to Mr. Ray, I know you’ve won an Oscar but I can’t include your movies in the hindi language category, which makes my job easier. It really pains not to include Mother India, Pakeezah, Mera Naam Joker. It’s a pity that Bollywood cinema is still known as just song and dance, let’s send them this list. Shall we?
.
10. lage raho munnabhai
Dir: Raj Kumar Hirani
Remove the songs and I’ll put you couple of steps further. Coming From the best Director of modern time Raju Hirani. This really transpired that you don’t need big complex, intriguing drama to become a cult classic. He is possibly the worst director as far as cinematography is concerned, but who’s complaining. If your movies grosses 450 crores in four weeks(recall 3 Idiots), you’ve got to have talent. I call him the Hrishikesh Mukhejee of modern time. In this movie he maks you laugh and cry every 5 minutes. This surpassed it’s prequel that in itself was a cult.
9. Dil Chahta hai
Dir: Farhaan Akhtar
Brave. Path-breaking. Revolutionary, World cinema . . . I have seen it seven times and now after ten years I have even more respect for it because lot of directors tried to re-create the same effect but failed miserably. And it still continues to inspire filmmakers. An actor who had zero style content, Aamir khan, became a school of cool. Saf ali khan made a living out of that movie, and India accepted a beautiful love story between a young boy and a middle aged lady. That was what Farhan Akhtar created with his first movie.
8. Masoom
Dir : Shekhar Kapoor
His first movie and possibly the worse as far a technicality is concerned. But after this he would go on to make Mr India and Elizabeth. With great music by R.D. Burman. It is one of the most loving movies of all time. It’s a sweet movie revolving around a boy rahul played by jugal hansraj. There are heart wrenching scenes in the movie. It has awe-inspiring performances by Naseer and Shabana. It’s a movie with a heart and a soul. All the actors have done an outstanding role in movie.
7. Maqbool
Dir: Vishal Bhardwaj
Pure magic.... In every sense of the word . . . Vishal Bhardwaz is india’s tarrentino, screw tarentino, he is way better than tarrentino. Best adapted screenplay ever written in india. He is a director of class, and a brilliant dialogue writer. Adapted from Macbeth, the story is put into an Indian mafia family. Vishal bhardwaz does a brilliant job at the Back ground score of the movie. It has legendary performance by Tabbu . I can’t believe the same guy made 7 Khoon Maaf, his worst effort till date. Here is the first scene of Omkara, where langda tyagi says….
‘Chutia aur bewkoof me dhaage bhar ke farak, dhaage ke engee chutia aur ongee bewkoof. Aur jo dhaaga khench lo toh kon chutia aur kon bewkoof sau karor ka prasan. Par tu toh bewkoof hega, chutia toh aadmi shaadi ke baad howe hai, aur teri toh shaadi honi ni.’
6. Guide
Dir: Vijay Anand
Guide has beaten Sisila, Lamhe, Choti si baat, and arth to get this place. A story written by india’s greatest writer ever R K Narayan. This movie is a masterpiece. ‘Man does not die it is only the body that dies the soul remains forever.’ This is the last dialogue of the movie. It was set to be partly english and partly hindi movie to be produced by an indo-american venture but due to differences it was postponed and later dropped then vijay anand stepped in to direct.
5. Black Friday
Dir: Anuraag Kasyap
2006, enter Anurag kashyap to change Bollywood cinema forever. You send this movie to Oscars and it will win an award straight away. Bsed on 93 bomb blast in Mumbai, this was banned for 2 years because the case was under litigation, and they though this movie will influence people or perhaps cause riots or something. Mature as our governments are this is not surprising. A real story told in the most gripping style possible. Woderful performance from K.K Menon and other less renowned actors. This movie is a gem, better than Satya, and Parzania.
4. Jaane bhi do yaroon
Dir: Kundan Shah
‘Kisi desh ki unnati ki pehchan agar kisi cheeze se hoti hai toh wo hai gutter, wo gutter ke liye jiye aur gutter kr liye mare. Marte Marte unke Akhari shabd the, ‘gutter.’
‘mujhe pata hai aapki aankho me kya hai…ek model banane ka sapna…aur inko dekho ye jab hamare studio me aayi thi toh burqa pehen ke aayi thi’
Innovative, satirical, intriguing, sharp, breathless, and hillarios. When I first saw this I couldn’t stop laughing. But on a broader sense, I realized it was much more than a laugh riot, death of morality, succumbing to hunger, This is, one of those movies that’s weak in every department of film-making and yet never ceases to amaze you. . . A god of cult.
‘Theher papi!! theher! Mein teri zubaam khich lunga!!
‘Abe shaant! Gadadhari bhim!shaant!’
‘adharmi papi tera satyanash ho!’
‘maine vastraharan ka idea drop kar diya hai’
‘abe kaun hai be tu?’
‘aankho se agyaan ki patti utaar ke dekh!’
‘oye dhitarastra ke putar! Dropadi ko wasp kar vo mere saath jayegi!’
‘oye dropadi tere akele ki nai hai!ham sab shareholders hai!’
‘oye chal oye, paalan toh hamne kabhi apne baap ki agya ka bhi nai kiya!’
‘oye chup oye arjun singh!, ye le, tere dhanush ban ki toh!’
‘shaant! gadadhari bhim shaant!’
‘Thehro! Thehro! Thehro!’
‘nalayak!adharmi!durachari!somethingchaari!brashtachaari!bolo sorry! Apne sasur ko nahi jaanta main hu dropadi ka baap!’
‘jai ho! Jai ho ! jai ho !’
3. Lagaan
Dir: Ashutosh gawarikar
Do I really need to say anything about it? Cinema that changed the way west looked at us. A movie that gave way to new ideologies, new beliefs . I love the treatment of the movie. What’s amazing is that you knew the villagers’ are goanna win it, you knew no matter what? Bhuwan’s gonna hit that six of the last ball. You knew it will be another underdog story with a triumphant climax, but still the journey of 3.5 hours was worth it. Probably the best movie in last 25 years. I really think it should have won in the foreign language category, all A-listers of Hollywood voted for it, except the jury.Ha.
2. Anand
Dir: Hrishikesh Mukerjee
'Life should be big not long.'
‘ babumoshay, jindaga aur maut uparwale ke hath hai jahapana, jise na aap badalsakte hai na mein. hum sab to rangmanch ki katputlia hai, jiski door uparwale ke haath bandhi hai KAB KAUN KAISE UTHEGA YE KOI NAHI JANTA.'
Sometimes cost of happiness costs us happiness. It doesn’t always help to know it all, have it all, because you are as happy as you want to be. And the best way to be happy is to share it, just as Hrishikesh Mukerjee shared it then, as I am sharing it now.
Here is our response to ‘It’s a wonderful life.’ I was heartbroken when I first saw this. But this movie teaches you a lesson that life is beautiful and it is for living. Without a shadow of a doubt hrishikesh Mukherjee is one of the finest storytellers of all time, with movies like Chupke chupke, Golmaal, Abhimaan, Bawarchi and Satyakam, But as far as I am concerned Anand is his best film.
1. Mughl-E-Azam
Year: 1960
Dir: k. Asif
Budget: 1,50,00,000($3,000,000)
In the year 1960, something incredible happened, an eccentric man made the Eight wonder of the world, a movie that will break all the records in movies costs and also set the box office on fire, making it worth every minute of the nine years it took to make it.
It brought grandeur on the screen, lavish sets, renowned craftsmen from delhi and surat came to stitch costumes for the movie, jewelry that Madhubala wore were made of pure gold and diamonds, a battle sequence was shot with 2000 camels, 4000 horses, and 8000 troops, soldiers were taken on loan from Indian army. It had meticulous performances form Dilip Kumar, Prithviraj Kapoor and Madhubala.
The greatest Mughal Emreror, Akbar would pray for his successor and on hearing the birth of his son promise his maid who brought the news, a wish, whose daughter, Anarkali and his son, Salim would fall hopelessly in love which the empreror will despise, however, despite his protestations salim, in order to get his love, would fight a colossal battle with his father, only to lose and to be death sentenced along with Anarkali. That is when the maid, Anarkali’s mother will exercise her wish to save her daughters life, who will be secretly transported outside the kingdom. The Emperor out of love for his son would tell him that Anarkali has been killed to get his son back. And both the lovers will live a life of longing and separation. A tale of jealousy, love, honour, trust, betrayal and a promise.
My favorite movies but missed my list
1. Don (Amitabh Bachhan)
2. Rang de basanti
3. Andaaz apna apna
4. Arth
5. Omkara
6. Swades
7. Silsila
8. Satya
9. Deewar
10. Sholey
Epilogue: What are movies ? A way to tell stories Or an Ambiguity ? Why do we like movies? Is what played before us real ? Of course, it’s not ? The actors are, but the behavior isn’t ? There are explosions, people are getting killed, there’s a boy in love with the girl, men turn into lovers and psychos. It’s all fiction, and we know it, then why do we go through pain, and anger, and happiness and fear while watching them . . . Because it’s us, and when we watch it, we become part of it, the real we, not the one living in the society but the one that is only known to us. The one who feels bad when goodness is tormented, ideologies are killed, righteousness is played, and feels good when the good wins over the evil. That’s why we love movies, as Hitchcock said, when a painter draws a painting of apples and trees, he is not interested in the apples or trees but he wants the audience to go through certain emotions while seeing them, that’s what cinemas do.
A simple act of pretence becomes real, that’s the power of movies.
So I am going to present to you my very own biased list of top movies, no, it’s not biased, it’s not the list of my favorite movies but the list of best movies.
I would like to thank Rohan Dave for introducing me to the classics, and Rishi Ondhia for giving me all the horror flick DVD’s, and Deepak Soni with whom I saw all the dude movies and also to all the girls who accompanied me to romantic comedies and animation movies, and a special thanks to my dad who took me to a play called ‘Muawza’ by Bhism Sahini when I was 15..
My apologies to these movies, for I haven’t seen them, Lawrence of Arabia, Citizen Cane, Benhur, Apocalypso Now, Space odysy 2001, Dr Strangelove, Rear Window. They couldn’t make the list.
Top ten movies of all time
10. The lord of the rings. The return of the kings
Dir: Peter Jackson
One of my favorite director, who also gave us king kong that nobody talks about which I think was as good a Avatar if not better. This movies won 11 oscars and is a classic. This movie is what I call doing the impossible. The books were too huge and too complex to be made into a movie unlike Harry Potter which is more screenplay and less writing. Peter Jackson take a bow.
9. Vertigo
Dir: Alfred Hitchcock
There was a big fight among Psycho, Vertigo and North and northwest. I am still not sure if I have made the right choice. He is known as the king of suspense and mystery. I’ll tell you what he should be known as king of drama and intrigue. I am yet to see rear window. I’ve heard a lot about it. What’s remarkable in vertigo is that it doesn’t take you by surprise and nothing is hid from the audience. ‘I don’t believe in suspense like a mystery novel where the reader gets to the last page out of curiosity and does not go through emotions.’- Hitchcock
8. Inception/The dark knight
Dir:Christopher Nolan
'Don't talk like you're one of them! You're not... even if you'd like to be. To them you're just a freak, like me. They need you right now, but when they don't, they'll cast you out. Like a leper. See, their morals, their "code"... it's a bad joke, dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you. When the chips are down, these uh, these "civilized people", they'll eat each other. See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve'
Excuse me people, I’d like to direct your attention towards the most original, and innovative, and probably the best director of modern times. Mr. Christopher Nolan.
The dark Knight or Inception, The dark Knight or Inception. These were the thought going into my head, although I agree that dark knight was more complete movie than inception. With breath taking performances from Heath Ledger
7. Forest Gump
Directed By Robert Zemeckis
A man who’s IQ is 75, doesn’t understand war but becomes a part of it, wins medal of honour, all of a sudden realizes he has tremendous running skills, enters white house 3 times, becomes a major shareholder, and not for a single moment you would ask for justification. Tom hanks plays the most endearing character, so much so that I am tempted to say it’s a godly performance from him.
6. Raging bull
Dir: Martin Scorsese
Here comes the dude of all time, Robert Deniro. And another dude of all time Joe Pesci and another dude of all time Martin Scorsese. They get together and create Raging Bull, Casino and goodfellas. Raging bull is a cult classic directed by my favorite. Its an incredible movie. It’s a story of a boxer who is raw and talented but then turns into a self obsessed, paranoid man who loses everything but his pride. The depiction of boxer LaMotta and then of a retired corpulent boxer is amazingly portrayed by Robert Deniro. Since films release varying interpretations have been made of the way it’s been shot and it symbolism. Here the monologue by deniro sitting in front of the mirror.
5. Schindler’s list
Dir: Steven Spielberg
Dark, sobering and also invigoratingly dramatic,’Schindler’s list’ will make terrifying sense to anyone, anywhere.-N.Y.Times. That sort of sums it up. I have personally liked everything that the man has made The Jurassic series, jaws, minority report, Indiana jones, the terminal. There is no doubt that he is best director in the industry. A businessman comes to war spoiled Poland and becomes a super hero. It’s haunting and heroic at the same time. Tremendous camara angles, the real looks even more real. Spielberg’s best work till date.
4. Annie hall
Dir: Woody Allen
Annie: ‘That’s so clean out here.’
Alvy: ‘that’s because they don’t throw their garbage away, they turn it into Television shows.’
‘Don’t you see the rest of the country looks upon New-York like, we are left wing, communists, jewish, homosexuals, pornographers? I think of us that way sometimes and I live here.’
Clever and classic, I read it’s screenplay before I saw the movie, and I was blown away. What’s extraordinary is that how your cheeks and stomach hurt out of laughing so much. Its satirical, irreverent and real. Alvy singer played by Allen says, ‘I’d never belong to a club that would have me as member.’ Which simply means, how you can expect the society to accept you when you cannot accept yourself ?
3. The godfather
Dir: Francis Ford Coppola
One day Mario Puzo, Francis Ford Coppola and Marlon Brando got together to indulge in a project that will keep multitudes of filmmakers intrigued and fascinated over generations at the greatness of their work. In the movie nothing is what it seems. War of mafia families, double crosses, standing by your family, standing by your word. That’s the heart of the movie. It’s innovative and riveting the way the killing have been shot. It sets a benchmark for compelling storytelling. It’s needless to say it’s more than a mafia film.
If you want to learn film-making, watch it, and watch it again, and watch it over and over again.
2. China town
Dir: Roman Polanski
Why is china town rated better than godfather, you want to ask? Because china town is original, that’s your answer. Flawless. Flaw-less, I have to say it again.. Not even a singe error. Thrilling, intriguing, shocking, high voltage drama. Roman Polanski takes a detective story and turns into brilliance. Mr. J.J. Gittes, played magnificently by Jack Nicholson is a detective trying to solve infidelity cases and stumbles on a case where drinking water is going to be drawn out of LA and then as plot reveals itself, turns into much more complex drama, as the major conflicts grow deeper, a more darker secret would unveils, that will be as shocking a the word. The controversial climax is an act of bravery and takes the movie to a insurmountable heights.
1. The Shawshank Redemption
Written and directed by : Frank Darabont
Rating: Beyond 5 stars
‘Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, may be the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.’
‘I have no idea to this day what they were
Aah… can’t say a word. It’s beyond words. Beyond description. A triumph . . . Ineffable . . . Hope, our biggest strength, which give us faith and belief , hope, that makes you wake up every morning, with a belief that you can be what you can to be… Beautifully written, perhaps the best written scripts ever. A masterpiece that captures the drama of friendship, resilience and hope.
Screw Oscars for not voting for it. The movie has encapsulating moments. When red, Morgan freeman searches the fields for Andy’s, Tim Robbins, and what he finds under the stone, that scene will make your blood scream into your veins, and your body will explode with emotion, and your heart will be filled with joy.
'I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't wanna know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful it can't be expressed in words, and it makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you those voices soared, higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.'
‘Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free.’
My favorites but missed my list
10. Closer
9. King Kong
8. Tropic thuder
7. Pulp fiction
6. Rainman
5. The Aviator,
4. The Pursuit of Happiness
3. Philadelphia
2. Little miss sunshine
1. Taxi driver
Top ten Horror movies of all time
It’s a genre that hasn’t hat too much respect from the Industry nor from festivals and awards, But I believe it’s the most exiting genre of movies. No body likes being scared but we still want to do things that scare us, we want to get out adrenalin pumping. It’s such a rush, I tell you. Two weeks ago I saw 40 minutes of The Shining and it was chilling, I couldn’t see it because my friend was too scared to watch anymore, so it couldn’t make the list.
10. Friday the 13
9. The omen
8. The Texas chainsaw massacare
7. Hellraiser
6. The exorcism of Emily rose
5. A nightmare of Elm Street
4. Grudge
3. The silence of the lambs
2. The sixth sense
1. Paranormal Activities
My favorites but missed my list
5. The ring
4. Jeepers creepers
3. The exorcist
2. SAW
1. The orphan
Top 10 super hero movies
10.The incredable hulk
9.Batman returns
8.X-men origins
7.Superman returns
6.Batman begins
5.X-2
4.Batman
3.Iron Man
2.King kong
1.The dark night
My favorite movies but missed my list
My favorites are in the list, so to speak. Sorry guys. Spiderman is not a movie. It’s something you do when you have nothing else to do.
Top ten animation movies of all time
It all started with Ducktales and Mowgali, story that had griiping storyline and tremendous fun, and all the following movies are equally good as any non-animation movies, if not better. How some animated characters have the ability to make you cry laugh and wonder at genius.
10. Shrek
9. Cars
8. Kung Fu Panda
7. Finding Nemo
6. The Incredibles
5. Wall-E
4. Madagascar
3. Toy Story 1
2. Toy story 2
1. Toy story 3
Top ten Romcoms
My apologies to Mr. woody allen for not having seen Hannah and her sisters and Manhattan and also to My big fat Greek wedding, As good as it gets, and Scent of a woman. I am pretty sure some of them would have made it to the list.
10. One fine day
9. Along came polly
8. The break up
7. P.S. I love you
6. Bridget jones diary
5. love actually
4. Serendipity
4. Moulin rouge
3. Shakespeare in love
2. Pretty woman
1. Sleepless in Seatle
My favorite movies but missed my list
10. tom cruise canaroon diaz
9. Emma
8. The Duke
7. No stings attached
6. Forgetting Sarah Marshall
5. Four wedding a and a funeral
4. Runaway bride
3. 50 first dates
2. French kiss
1. When harry met sally
Top 10 bollywood movies of all time
Every attempt that I made to get to the ‘best’ movies of all time and not ‘my’ favorite movies of all time has endeavored to arrive at modification and thereafter some more modifications until I came to a point where I couldn’t decide, because how can I make the list without having seen Pyasa, Kagaz ke phool, Sahib bibi aur ghulam, Madhumati, Awaara, Salaam Bombay, Satyakam and Ardhsatya. What’s worse is that I have seen bits of each and they are brilliant.
My apologies to Mr. Ray, I know you’ve won an Oscar but I can’t include your movies in the hindi language category, which makes my job easier. It really pains not to include Mother India, Pakeezah, Mera Naam Joker. It’s a pity that Bollywood cinema is still known as just song and dance, let’s send them this list. Shall we?
.
10. lage raho munnabhai
Dir: Raj Kumar Hirani
Remove the songs and I’ll put you couple of steps further. Coming From the best Director of modern time Raju Hirani. This really transpired that you don’t need big complex, intriguing drama to become a cult classic. He is possibly the worst director as far as cinematography is concerned, but who’s complaining. If your movies grosses 450 crores in four weeks(recall 3 Idiots), you’ve got to have talent. I call him the Hrishikesh Mukhejee of modern time. In this movie he maks you laugh and cry every 5 minutes. This surpassed it’s prequel that in itself was a cult.
9. Dil Chahta hai
Dir: Farhaan Akhtar
Brave. Path-breaking. Revolutionary, World cinema . . . I have seen it seven times and now after ten years I have even more respect for it because lot of directors tried to re-create the same effect but failed miserably. And it still continues to inspire filmmakers. An actor who had zero style content, Aamir khan, became a school of cool. Saf ali khan made a living out of that movie, and India accepted a beautiful love story between a young boy and a middle aged lady. That was what Farhan Akhtar created with his first movie.
8. Masoom
Dir : Shekhar Kapoor
His first movie and possibly the worse as far a technicality is concerned. But after this he would go on to make Mr India and Elizabeth. With great music by R.D. Burman. It is one of the most loving movies of all time. It’s a sweet movie revolving around a boy rahul played by jugal hansraj. There are heart wrenching scenes in the movie. It has awe-inspiring performances by Naseer and Shabana. It’s a movie with a heart and a soul. All the actors have done an outstanding role in movie.
7. Maqbool
Dir: Vishal Bhardwaj
Pure magic.... In every sense of the word . . . Vishal Bhardwaz is india’s tarrentino, screw tarentino, he is way better than tarrentino. Best adapted screenplay ever written in india. He is a director of class, and a brilliant dialogue writer. Adapted from Macbeth, the story is put into an Indian mafia family. Vishal bhardwaz does a brilliant job at the Back ground score of the movie. It has legendary performance by Tabbu . I can’t believe the same guy made 7 Khoon Maaf, his worst effort till date. Here is the first scene of Omkara, where langda tyagi says….
‘Chutia aur bewkoof me dhaage bhar ke farak, dhaage ke engee chutia aur ongee bewkoof. Aur jo dhaaga khench lo toh kon chutia aur kon bewkoof sau karor ka prasan. Par tu toh bewkoof hega, chutia toh aadmi shaadi ke baad howe hai, aur teri toh shaadi honi ni.’
6. Guide
Dir: Vijay Anand
Guide has beaten Sisila, Lamhe, Choti si baat, and arth to get this place. A story written by india’s greatest writer ever R K Narayan. This movie is a masterpiece. ‘Man does not die it is only the body that dies the soul remains forever.’ This is the last dialogue of the movie. It was set to be partly english and partly hindi movie to be produced by an indo-american venture but due to differences it was postponed and later dropped then vijay anand stepped in to direct.
5. Black Friday
Dir: Anuraag Kasyap
2006, enter Anurag kashyap to change Bollywood cinema forever. You send this movie to Oscars and it will win an award straight away. Bsed on 93 bomb blast in Mumbai, this was banned for 2 years because the case was under litigation, and they though this movie will influence people or perhaps cause riots or something. Mature as our governments are this is not surprising. A real story told in the most gripping style possible. Woderful performance from K.K Menon and other less renowned actors. This movie is a gem, better than Satya, and Parzania.
4. Jaane bhi do yaroon
Dir: Kundan Shah
‘Kisi desh ki unnati ki pehchan agar kisi cheeze se hoti hai toh wo hai gutter, wo gutter ke liye jiye aur gutter kr liye mare. Marte Marte unke Akhari shabd the, ‘gutter.’
‘mujhe pata hai aapki aankho me kya hai…ek model banane ka sapna…aur inko dekho ye jab hamare studio me aayi thi toh burqa pehen ke aayi thi’
Innovative, satirical, intriguing, sharp, breathless, and hillarios. When I first saw this I couldn’t stop laughing. But on a broader sense, I realized it was much more than a laugh riot, death of morality, succumbing to hunger, This is, one of those movies that’s weak in every department of film-making and yet never ceases to amaze you. . . A god of cult.
‘Theher papi!! theher! Mein teri zubaam khich lunga!!
‘Abe shaant! Gadadhari bhim!shaant!’
‘adharmi papi tera satyanash ho!’
‘maine vastraharan ka idea drop kar diya hai’
‘abe kaun hai be tu?’
‘aankho se agyaan ki patti utaar ke dekh!’
‘oye dhitarastra ke putar! Dropadi ko wasp kar vo mere saath jayegi!’
‘oye dropadi tere akele ki nai hai!ham sab shareholders hai!’
‘oye chal oye, paalan toh hamne kabhi apne baap ki agya ka bhi nai kiya!’
‘oye chup oye arjun singh!, ye le, tere dhanush ban ki toh!’
‘shaant! gadadhari bhim shaant!’
‘Thehro! Thehro! Thehro!’
‘nalayak!adharmi!durachari!somethingchaari!brashtachaari!bolo sorry! Apne sasur ko nahi jaanta main hu dropadi ka baap!’
‘jai ho! Jai ho ! jai ho !’
3. Lagaan
Dir: Ashutosh gawarikar
Do I really need to say anything about it? Cinema that changed the way west looked at us. A movie that gave way to new ideologies, new beliefs . I love the treatment of the movie. What’s amazing is that you knew the villagers’ are goanna win it, you knew no matter what? Bhuwan’s gonna hit that six of the last ball. You knew it will be another underdog story with a triumphant climax, but still the journey of 3.5 hours was worth it. Probably the best movie in last 25 years. I really think it should have won in the foreign language category, all A-listers of Hollywood voted for it, except the jury.Ha.
2. Anand
Dir: Hrishikesh Mukerjee
'Life should be big not long.'
‘ babumoshay, jindaga aur maut uparwale ke hath hai jahapana, jise na aap badalsakte hai na mein. hum sab to rangmanch ki katputlia hai, jiski door uparwale ke haath bandhi hai KAB KAUN KAISE UTHEGA YE KOI NAHI JANTA.'
Sometimes cost of happiness costs us happiness. It doesn’t always help to know it all, have it all, because you are as happy as you want to be. And the best way to be happy is to share it, just as Hrishikesh Mukerjee shared it then, as I am sharing it now.
Here is our response to ‘It’s a wonderful life.’ I was heartbroken when I first saw this. But this movie teaches you a lesson that life is beautiful and it is for living. Without a shadow of a doubt hrishikesh Mukherjee is one of the finest storytellers of all time, with movies like Chupke chupke, Golmaal, Abhimaan, Bawarchi and Satyakam, But as far as I am concerned Anand is his best film.
1. Mughl-E-Azam
Year: 1960
Dir: k. Asif
Budget: 1,50,00,000($3,000,000)
In the year 1960, something incredible happened, an eccentric man made the Eight wonder of the world, a movie that will break all the records in movies costs and also set the box office on fire, making it worth every minute of the nine years it took to make it.
It brought grandeur on the screen, lavish sets, renowned craftsmen from delhi and surat came to stitch costumes for the movie, jewelry that Madhubala wore were made of pure gold and diamonds, a battle sequence was shot with 2000 camels, 4000 horses, and 8000 troops, soldiers were taken on loan from Indian army. It had meticulous performances form Dilip Kumar, Prithviraj Kapoor and Madhubala.
The greatest Mughal Emreror, Akbar would pray for his successor and on hearing the birth of his son promise his maid who brought the news, a wish, whose daughter, Anarkali and his son, Salim would fall hopelessly in love which the empreror will despise, however, despite his protestations salim, in order to get his love, would fight a colossal battle with his father, only to lose and to be death sentenced along with Anarkali. That is when the maid, Anarkali’s mother will exercise her wish to save her daughters life, who will be secretly transported outside the kingdom. The Emperor out of love for his son would tell him that Anarkali has been killed to get his son back. And both the lovers will live a life of longing and separation. A tale of jealousy, love, honour, trust, betrayal and a promise.
My favorite movies but missed my list
1. Don (Amitabh Bachhan)
2. Rang de basanti
3. Andaaz apna apna
4. Arth
5. Omkara
6. Swades
7. Silsila
8. Satya
9. Deewar
10. Sholey
Epilogue: What are movies ? A way to tell stories Or an Ambiguity ? Why do we like movies? Is what played before us real ? Of course, it’s not ? The actors are, but the behavior isn’t ? There are explosions, people are getting killed, there’s a boy in love with the girl, men turn into lovers and psychos. It’s all fiction, and we know it, then why do we go through pain, and anger, and happiness and fear while watching them . . . Because it’s us, and when we watch it, we become part of it, the real we, not the one living in the society but the one that is only known to us. The one who feels bad when goodness is tormented, ideologies are killed, righteousness is played, and feels good when the good wins over the evil. That’s why we love movies, as Hitchcock said, when a painter draws a painting of apples and trees, he is not interested in the apples or trees but he wants the audience to go through certain emotions while seeing them, that’s what cinemas do.
A simple act of pretence becomes real, that’s the power of movies.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
This will sweep you off the floor!
Title: Midnight’s children
Author: Salman Rushdie
First Published In: Britain 1981
Rating: 5 Stars
Midnight’s children: The best book I’ve ever read and perhaps, ever would . . . When I began reading this book I was surprisingly overwhelmed by the cleverness with which the prose was carried out. The writing exuded wit, and his amusing description got me cracking with the word go. It’s so brilliantly written that it is all set to reduce to rubble my reading experience, for I know other books will look utterly ordinary in the absence of the riveting style that Rushdie has deluged me with.
This is a demanding book, and probably a little too complex, but once I was drawn into the plot I found it rather easy to discern the characters and their motives. Saleem Sinai, the protagonist, born at the stroke of midnight at the precise moment of India’s independence narrates his biography in the most spell-binding and entertaining style, if there ever was one. The narration goes back and forth on more occasions than you’d imagine and it’s unnecessary to say that the author has set the benchmark for non-linear storytelling. Every page takes you by surprise, each sentence is magically written, as if devised for perfection; it has transgressed beyond the boundaries of imagination.
Although, initially, after completing few chapters, it looked as if the author is trying to persuade me into believing his version of a tale that, at that point in time seemed unbelievable, later on as the sub-plots unfurled and began to tie themselves with significant events, I didn’t bother questioning. Saleem, narrating his story to his lady love Padma, begins his story in the most uncanny way possible, which goes way before his birth, in a startling depiction of faiths and beliefs of the bygone era of pre-independence, who, born with a weird and snotty nose, at a very young age, after an accident, acquires telepathic powers to connect with other midnight’s children and after a forceful drainage of the snotnose attains a strange ability to sniff out thoughts and dangers that others can’t perceive, finds himself in the middle of two India-Pakistan wars, bearing the life, as fate would take him, into different worlds, one in a mansion and other in a slum. That’s about as much as I can give out, unlike an Indian movie review. So I must stop. And that’s that. It’s as much a journey of Saleem and his inner and outer conflicts as it is of India. Because his fate is inextricably entwined with India.
What begins as a random read turns and takes you in a world where you don’t want to return from. What’s extraordinary is that, for a book of such gigantic proportions (647 pages, paperback), you wouldn’t want the narrator to stop. Seldom in the history does a book come along that has the power to enthrall the reader and takes him into a captivating joyride to the moon, and keep him there; so when he looks down at the earth from there, everything, including Himalayas, appears miniscule. Rushdie is my god of writing . . .
Read it for its originality, for its grandiloquent prose, for its unrestrained candor, for its stunning perspicacity, for its absorbing plot, for India’s convoluted history, for the awe-inspiring read that you’ve denied yourself so far.
Author: Salman Rushdie
First Published In: Britain 1981
Rating: 5 Stars
Midnight’s children: The best book I’ve ever read and perhaps, ever would . . . When I began reading this book I was surprisingly overwhelmed by the cleverness with which the prose was carried out. The writing exuded wit, and his amusing description got me cracking with the word go. It’s so brilliantly written that it is all set to reduce to rubble my reading experience, for I know other books will look utterly ordinary in the absence of the riveting style that Rushdie has deluged me with.
This is a demanding book, and probably a little too complex, but once I was drawn into the plot I found it rather easy to discern the characters and their motives. Saleem Sinai, the protagonist, born at the stroke of midnight at the precise moment of India’s independence narrates his biography in the most spell-binding and entertaining style, if there ever was one. The narration goes back and forth on more occasions than you’d imagine and it’s unnecessary to say that the author has set the benchmark for non-linear storytelling. Every page takes you by surprise, each sentence is magically written, as if devised for perfection; it has transgressed beyond the boundaries of imagination.
Although, initially, after completing few chapters, it looked as if the author is trying to persuade me into believing his version of a tale that, at that point in time seemed unbelievable, later on as the sub-plots unfurled and began to tie themselves with significant events, I didn’t bother questioning. Saleem, narrating his story to his lady love Padma, begins his story in the most uncanny way possible, which goes way before his birth, in a startling depiction of faiths and beliefs of the bygone era of pre-independence, who, born with a weird and snotty nose, at a very young age, after an accident, acquires telepathic powers to connect with other midnight’s children and after a forceful drainage of the snotnose attains a strange ability to sniff out thoughts and dangers that others can’t perceive, finds himself in the middle of two India-Pakistan wars, bearing the life, as fate would take him, into different worlds, one in a mansion and other in a slum. That’s about as much as I can give out, unlike an Indian movie review. So I must stop. And that’s that. It’s as much a journey of Saleem and his inner and outer conflicts as it is of India. Because his fate is inextricably entwined with India.
What begins as a random read turns and takes you in a world where you don’t want to return from. What’s extraordinary is that, for a book of such gigantic proportions (647 pages, paperback), you wouldn’t want the narrator to stop. Seldom in the history does a book come along that has the power to enthrall the reader and takes him into a captivating joyride to the moon, and keep him there; so when he looks down at the earth from there, everything, including Himalayas, appears miniscule. Rushdie is my god of writing . . .
Read it for its originality, for its grandiloquent prose, for its unrestrained candor, for its stunning perspicacity, for its absorbing plot, for India’s convoluted history, for the awe-inspiring read that you’ve denied yourself so far.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Why aren't we happy ?
For several months now, I am pursued by a question. It’s a question all of us have, may be not all of us, but most of us. Alright. Some of us. Fine! Just me. Okay.
. . . So the question is. ‘Why aren’t we happy? What do we want? Why is the other guy always lucky? And why isn’t everything fair? Where is this righteous indignation coming from?’
Right then, you think this subject’s appealing? No? Not even a little? What are you thinking then? ‘What has gone into this guy’s head?’ There! That’s what you are thinking. Well, actually, for a moment, I thought of it too. Okay. Enough now. I must begin, before I am too tired and before you lose interest . . .
Happiness, a term none of us know the real meaning of and yet we search for it all our lives. So what exactly is it? It’s the thing that makes you eat noodles and coffee with friends while you are driving at eighty kilometers per hour at two at night. It’s the thing that makes you take a pleasant hot bath, makes you spend millions at your wardrobe, makes you buy a Ferrari, makes you slog at your job, makes you propose the girl who’s way beyond your league, and makes you spend two goddamn hours writing an article that nobody’s interested in reading.
We want to be happy through external sources, like shopping, dining out, buying a car, etcetera. It’s amazing how people very proudly say, ‘I was feeling low so I needed couple of drinks.’ Yeah. You must. Of course. Why not. That’s your tranquillizer. Isn’t it?
As you must’ve heard, happiness comes from within, not from buying a car; clearly we are incapable of feeling good about ourselves so we need a car to do it, for the focus is on what I have, not on what I am. We are pretty much stuck at ‘what we have’ crap, and so much so that our whole sense of being collapses at the endeavors of buying that car, which is supposed to make us feel happy. Money, in a sense, has become this symbolic measure of our importance in the society. But as Shiv khera puts it, yes, money is important. It buys medicines and food. But it cannot buy health and appetite. It can buy house not home, a bed not sleep, books but not wisdom, a clock but not more time, companions but not friends, finery but not beauty, a ring not marriage, amusements not happiness . . . Stop! If this article’s making you ponder the meaning of life, or making you belittle the value of your priced possession, or making you gnash with fuming vehemence at the shoddiness of my language. Stop here.
Wow! You are still reading it. Aren’t you? But if you are anything like me, you are not
reading it at all, you are just skimping through the lines. And by now, you are probably done with you routine curses and swearing in at least three languages at the enchantment of this post. I, however, not considering of your burgeoning boredom, will drift into some more....Abe Lincon once remarked that ‘most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.’ I have seen happy, smiling faces among the poor underprivileged children soiled in mud and seen grimaces on the faces of highly educated people sitting in the air-conditioned corner cabins in their office. There is nothing that’s happy or sad but our thinking makes it so. Your possessions will surely bring you happiness while it’s new but when the newness of that new product wears off dullness arises, and then you go on another quest for happiness. Therefore, let’s follow Abe Lincon’s advice for some time, right now you are reading this and you are probably buying it too, although, I don’t know any more about happiness than I know about the sexual orientation of a humming bee. But you are reading it, because you’ve told yourself to read it, and your mind follows your orders, initially it may resist a bit but eventually it will give in like a dumped guy at a cheap bar.
‘Alright, that’s enough!’ You are screaming this, right? Okay, may be, not screaming, that’s going a little overboard. And being a sophisticated breed you are probably just thinking of this. But you still want to read it, because at the bottom of it you know its philosophical or perhaps even true, or because I have tagged you, or because you have time, whatever. And oddly enough, I am not finished yet.
Become wise not rich. We are not seeking wisdom, we just want ‘comfort me comfort me.’ . . . The idea is to be content with what you’ve got. I mean a glass wouldn’t crave for more water if it is full to the brim. Disappointment comes from expectation, when we do not get what we expected, we feel bad because we are not ready for a different outcome than what we expected, and that’s when frustration and depression take birth. We are always looking for satisfaction, which is an extremely misunderstood concept. So, for the time, therefore, allow me to launce into my explanation of the word ‘Satisfaction.’ Where does satisfaction come from? From fulfillment of wants and desires. And what is satisfaction? The end of wants and desires. So the best way to be satisfied is not to have desires. Right? And if you don’t have desires, you don’t have anything to look forward to. No hopes. No dreams. Nothing to work for. Then what’s the purpose of living.
Enough philosophizing: and if for some bizarre reason you’ve made it this far, pat your back first, and then, let me make my point. I am not telling you to abandon the pleasures of life. Why must I drive you to accept that you’ll never be satisfied? I am, however, trying to say that our sources of happiness were are and going to depend on material things. And there is nothing unlawful in it, but, we must not forget that the real happiness will come from within and we can’t change it. So here comes the moral; if we have money, we should enjoy it. And if we don’t, we can still enjoy. We can still be alive. We can still be happy.
Thank you for you time and patience; and my hat, wherever that may be, is off to you.
. . . So the question is. ‘Why aren’t we happy? What do we want? Why is the other guy always lucky? And why isn’t everything fair? Where is this righteous indignation coming from?’
Right then, you think this subject’s appealing? No? Not even a little? What are you thinking then? ‘What has gone into this guy’s head?’ There! That’s what you are thinking. Well, actually, for a moment, I thought of it too. Okay. Enough now. I must begin, before I am too tired and before you lose interest . . .
Happiness, a term none of us know the real meaning of and yet we search for it all our lives. So what exactly is it? It’s the thing that makes you eat noodles and coffee with friends while you are driving at eighty kilometers per hour at two at night. It’s the thing that makes you take a pleasant hot bath, makes you spend millions at your wardrobe, makes you buy a Ferrari, makes you slog at your job, makes you propose the girl who’s way beyond your league, and makes you spend two goddamn hours writing an article that nobody’s interested in reading.
We want to be happy through external sources, like shopping, dining out, buying a car, etcetera. It’s amazing how people very proudly say, ‘I was feeling low so I needed couple of drinks.’ Yeah. You must. Of course. Why not. That’s your tranquillizer. Isn’t it?
As you must’ve heard, happiness comes from within, not from buying a car; clearly we are incapable of feeling good about ourselves so we need a car to do it, for the focus is on what I have, not on what I am. We are pretty much stuck at ‘what we have’ crap, and so much so that our whole sense of being collapses at the endeavors of buying that car, which is supposed to make us feel happy. Money, in a sense, has become this symbolic measure of our importance in the society. But as Shiv khera puts it, yes, money is important. It buys medicines and food. But it cannot buy health and appetite. It can buy house not home, a bed not sleep, books but not wisdom, a clock but not more time, companions but not friends, finery but not beauty, a ring not marriage, amusements not happiness . . . Stop! If this article’s making you ponder the meaning of life, or making you belittle the value of your priced possession, or making you gnash with fuming vehemence at the shoddiness of my language. Stop here.
Wow! You are still reading it. Aren’t you? But if you are anything like me, you are not
reading it at all, you are just skimping through the lines. And by now, you are probably done with you routine curses and swearing in at least three languages at the enchantment of this post. I, however, not considering of your burgeoning boredom, will drift into some more....Abe Lincon once remarked that ‘most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.’ I have seen happy, smiling faces among the poor underprivileged children soiled in mud and seen grimaces on the faces of highly educated people sitting in the air-conditioned corner cabins in their office. There is nothing that’s happy or sad but our thinking makes it so. Your possessions will surely bring you happiness while it’s new but when the newness of that new product wears off dullness arises, and then you go on another quest for happiness. Therefore, let’s follow Abe Lincon’s advice for some time, right now you are reading this and you are probably buying it too, although, I don’t know any more about happiness than I know about the sexual orientation of a humming bee. But you are reading it, because you’ve told yourself to read it, and your mind follows your orders, initially it may resist a bit but eventually it will give in like a dumped guy at a cheap bar.
‘Alright, that’s enough!’ You are screaming this, right? Okay, may be, not screaming, that’s going a little overboard. And being a sophisticated breed you are probably just thinking of this. But you still want to read it, because at the bottom of it you know its philosophical or perhaps even true, or because I have tagged you, or because you have time, whatever. And oddly enough, I am not finished yet.
Become wise not rich. We are not seeking wisdom, we just want ‘comfort me comfort me.’ . . . The idea is to be content with what you’ve got. I mean a glass wouldn’t crave for more water if it is full to the brim. Disappointment comes from expectation, when we do not get what we expected, we feel bad because we are not ready for a different outcome than what we expected, and that’s when frustration and depression take birth. We are always looking for satisfaction, which is an extremely misunderstood concept. So, for the time, therefore, allow me to launce into my explanation of the word ‘Satisfaction.’ Where does satisfaction come from? From fulfillment of wants and desires. And what is satisfaction? The end of wants and desires. So the best way to be satisfied is not to have desires. Right? And if you don’t have desires, you don’t have anything to look forward to. No hopes. No dreams. Nothing to work for. Then what’s the purpose of living.
Enough philosophizing: and if for some bizarre reason you’ve made it this far, pat your back first, and then, let me make my point. I am not telling you to abandon the pleasures of life. Why must I drive you to accept that you’ll never be satisfied? I am, however, trying to say that our sources of happiness were are and going to depend on material things. And there is nothing unlawful in it, but, we must not forget that the real happiness will come from within and we can’t change it. So here comes the moral; if we have money, we should enjoy it. And if we don’t, we can still enjoy. We can still be alive. We can still be happy.
Thank you for you time and patience; and my hat, wherever that may be, is off to you.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Exams ! ! !
Sensing my unusual delirium, I begin my hypothesis of exams (exams! there's a cruel word, if you like) . . . while throng of boys and girls, with tilak, sandal wood paste daubed on their forehead, in between eyebrows, with books in their hands, riffling out pages, gathered in the middle of peak summer, reeking of sweat and nervousness to appear for, what it looked like from their faces, perhaps the most important exam of their lives, I, stood desultorily in bewilderment, with my friend who is as screwed up as I am, except he is capable of undressing women with only his eyes and whose business was to tell me which of the girls had the biggest of boobs or a perfect ass. And after the exam when we came out we were faced with paparazzi, only they didn't have cameras and they were parents, answering their own questions . . . "how was the paper? Was it easy? How did you guys do? Well no? Everybody did well? "Blah! Blah! I don’t give a shit about papers, I am lucky to be alive. Go get a life, codgers!
So what's it like? . . . Piece of shit! No, wait. It’s worse than that; it's like a pile of shit, with you in it. Enrolling for CA was the second biggest mistake of my life; the first one was when I fell for an Australian girl at the age of 13. Then, I fell into the trap of a pretty face and blonde hair; and this time too I fell into the trap, but of a longer title before my name: Chartered Accountant. Longer the title shittier (and that's a word) the course. They make it sound really professional and everything, but it's basically just high quality trash. I mean, it's the kind of stuff that makes you wanna fart in an aluminum foil and smell it . . . It’s going to take five years of your youth and you will, if you are lucky, end up with a job(if you pass, that is, which is going to take like a thousand years for me)
Once the exams are over, you are either recovering from an annihilating shock or preparing for another shock. Between the exams and the results you don’t know what to do, not that you did before, but this time it's different, I call it the pre-depression phase, the lull before the storm kinda stuff. Being a ca student comes with lots of gifts such as ability to, use a calculator, interpret financial statements (that nobody else is interested in doing), along with a few piffling medical problems such as hypertension, insomnia, schizophrenia. It has in itself become some kind of a disease, I say; I have a headache and people go . . . Oh! Exams coming no? It happens. I have high blood pressure . . . exam pressure right? It happens. One day I'll die of aneurism, blowing my temples, spouting blood from my mouth, and people will say he was a CA final student, after all, it happens . . .
. . . Everything in this world has a story, and every story has a moral, this one here, has one too. Last Sunday I went to Eden Gardens to see a game between KKR and Mumbai Indians, KKR played wonderful cricket only to loose on the last ball where they got hit for a six. So the moral goes like this: No matter how well you do, you can still get screwed at the very last moment, and no matter how bad you do, you can still end up winning. Exams are a bit like that, I suppose. You have to predict the unpredictable, conceive the inconceivable, and outdo the outdoers.
So what's it like? . . . Piece of shit! No, wait. It’s worse than that; it's like a pile of shit, with you in it. Enrolling for CA was the second biggest mistake of my life; the first one was when I fell for an Australian girl at the age of 13. Then, I fell into the trap of a pretty face and blonde hair; and this time too I fell into the trap, but of a longer title before my name: Chartered Accountant. Longer the title shittier (and that's a word) the course. They make it sound really professional and everything, but it's basically just high quality trash. I mean, it's the kind of stuff that makes you wanna fart in an aluminum foil and smell it . . . It’s going to take five years of your youth and you will, if you are lucky, end up with a job(if you pass, that is, which is going to take like a thousand years for me)
Once the exams are over, you are either recovering from an annihilating shock or preparing for another shock. Between the exams and the results you don’t know what to do, not that you did before, but this time it's different, I call it the pre-depression phase, the lull before the storm kinda stuff. Being a ca student comes with lots of gifts such as ability to, use a calculator, interpret financial statements (that nobody else is interested in doing), along with a few piffling medical problems such as hypertension, insomnia, schizophrenia. It has in itself become some kind of a disease, I say; I have a headache and people go . . . Oh! Exams coming no? It happens. I have high blood pressure . . . exam pressure right? It happens. One day I'll die of aneurism, blowing my temples, spouting blood from my mouth, and people will say he was a CA final student, after all, it happens . . .
. . . Everything in this world has a story, and every story has a moral, this one here, has one too. Last Sunday I went to Eden Gardens to see a game between KKR and Mumbai Indians, KKR played wonderful cricket only to loose on the last ball where they got hit for a six. So the moral goes like this: No matter how well you do, you can still get screwed at the very last moment, and no matter how bad you do, you can still end up winning. Exams are a bit like that, I suppose. You have to predict the unpredictable, conceive the inconceivable, and outdo the outdoers.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The Demon And The Dwarf
I woke with a chill up my spine....
...In the midst of a gloomy weather outside through which it was impossible to see the scantily clad girl in the building next to mine, except her ankles and her bare hands rested on her knees. I stood up, and just as I opened the window, the wind from the window cut across the curling smoke of my ginger tea, ripping it apart, shattering its rhythm, telling that it does not have the strength to make it's way round; thats what my ca final exams are contrived to do to me.
Until recently, I was living a normal desultory life; shitty alright, but I was unabashedly enjoying it-like a pig in the shit, but now it has become a commingling of self-inflicted desolation and iridescent fear.An innocent girls boobs, that's what I have become-fucking boobs! getting squeezed, pawed, and tweaked by ugly, horny, deceitful sods.
...I sat stoned, disillusioned, trying to avoid all the excruciating thoughts that were there in my head, throbbing, whimpering, whichever was worse; resuscitating every last bit of zeal that I was looking for in my deadening self, but could not find, and my heart was pounding hard enough to add to the burgeoning scare.I wondered if I had a heart attack, i wondered if that girl in the adjacent building had anything to do with my fate, I wondered ,for that matter, if anything in the world had anything to do with my fate.
Opaque as it may sound, but you have to be a masochist to get through the monstrosity of CA final'l syllabus that you are never going to enjoy.
which brings me back to the question of "why I woke up with a chill up my spine!"..
...It was a dream, but you don't know its a dream until you wake up. i was running, and a lot of people were running with me. i quickened my pace; as if it was a race.
Running towards the foyer of a mountainous building that seem to touch the sky.
People pushing and shoving each other, and i wondered why.
I entered a room that was so small that any breathing was nearly impossible.I was trapped.
who could ever beat the demon who walked when people clapped.The demon entered the room and a nauseating silence made its presence felt. a frightening chill went up mine spine just as knelt.
I stood there frozen, shaken; I was stirred.Scared at the sight of whistling, giggling demon, and I couldn't say a word.
It grabbed me, wanting to humiliate me.
It slapped me, threatening to decapitate me.
He was very scary when he leaned.I must admit, to my shame...I screamed.
Once in a while I would wail and cry. Despite it's protestations, I would stand op and try.
... In a moments time it'll end, in a moments time, there will be nothing, but parts of my body, and my head in the bloodstained hands of the triumphant demon, howling...
...In the midst of a gloomy weather outside through which it was impossible to see the scantily clad girl in the building next to mine, except her ankles and her bare hands rested on her knees. I stood up, and just as I opened the window, the wind from the window cut across the curling smoke of my ginger tea, ripping it apart, shattering its rhythm, telling that it does not have the strength to make it's way round; thats what my ca final exams are contrived to do to me.
Until recently, I was living a normal desultory life; shitty alright, but I was unabashedly enjoying it-like a pig in the shit, but now it has become a commingling of self-inflicted desolation and iridescent fear.An innocent girls boobs, that's what I have become-fucking boobs! getting squeezed, pawed, and tweaked by ugly, horny, deceitful sods.
...I sat stoned, disillusioned, trying to avoid all the excruciating thoughts that were there in my head, throbbing, whimpering, whichever was worse; resuscitating every last bit of zeal that I was looking for in my deadening self, but could not find, and my heart was pounding hard enough to add to the burgeoning scare.I wondered if I had a heart attack, i wondered if that girl in the adjacent building had anything to do with my fate, I wondered ,for that matter, if anything in the world had anything to do with my fate.
Opaque as it may sound, but you have to be a masochist to get through the monstrosity of CA final'l syllabus that you are never going to enjoy.
which brings me back to the question of "why I woke up with a chill up my spine!"..
...It was a dream, but you don't know its a dream until you wake up. i was running, and a lot of people were running with me. i quickened my pace; as if it was a race.
Running towards the foyer of a mountainous building that seem to touch the sky.
People pushing and shoving each other, and i wondered why.
I entered a room that was so small that any breathing was nearly impossible.I was trapped.
who could ever beat the demon who walked when people clapped.The demon entered the room and a nauseating silence made its presence felt. a frightening chill went up mine spine just as knelt.
I stood there frozen, shaken; I was stirred.Scared at the sight of whistling, giggling demon, and I couldn't say a word.
It grabbed me, wanting to humiliate me.
It slapped me, threatening to decapitate me.
He was very scary when he leaned.I must admit, to my shame...I screamed.
Once in a while I would wail and cry. Despite it's protestations, I would stand op and try.
... In a moments time it'll end, in a moments time, there will be nothing, but parts of my body, and my head in the bloodstained hands of the triumphant demon, howling...
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Procrastinating Student
You stretch langurously, you feel wonderful, you stay still in the bed, eyes shut, you hear something buzzing on the bed, a faint sound, filtered, muted but audible, enough to unsettle your sleep. It's the sound of your alarm clock. You want to wake up. It was something you had promised yourself last night, and the night before, and several other nights before that. In fact, you had pleaded with yourself that you would start studying from tomorrow. You look at the clock and somehow convince yourself into sleeping for 10 more minutes. You are 2 hours into your sleep when you hear a voice,
"get up you fucking piece of shit." That's... my conscience, always telling me to get it together.
I drag myself out of the bed. I pick up corporate law, and all I do is stare at it. I am so fucking pathetic.
I mean, I am looking at the book. The book's looking at me.
The book's looking at me like "what the fuck are you doing."
And I am like "I don't have a fucking idea."
Studying would have been extremely easy if it weren't for all the factors that conspire to stop me from being organised.
The first, and perhaps the biggest factor is me myself. I always have a picture of what I want to do, how I am going to do it. Unfortunately soon after starting I get a craving for subway burgers which is followed by a fag and coffee. Then I get distracted, thinking about what I should have done last week.
If this weren't bad enough, there are other scumbags too, just popping in for a chat, or asking for some information right away even though its going to take an hour to collect it, and I am already working on an urgent something.
There are phone calls, texts and cries for help and demands for attention. Those shitheads are out to snatch my time whenever they can. Even without other people the rest of the world eats away my time.
Then there is one real problem even if i manage to do everything I want to do,( a heavily packed schedule, phone switched off, a mind prepared for slogging, lots of books cluttered on the desk) I can not seem to start studying.
I have finished my lunch, I want to take an afternoon nap, but I can't, for I have to study (scheduled to study). You see, problem can't be without a solution and solution without a problem. I do what they call procrastination and I call it a little improvisation(it rhymes too).If I take my nap I have to cover it up late at night which is okay, for a nap will help me stay up at night. And that, of course, sounds very believable.
At 5 in the evening, I am still stuck in the same chapter. And so far my study routine has consisted of procrastination denial and sulking."Get on with it you fucking nutjob." Yeah, you are right, that's my dirty mouth trash talking conscience again.
It's 9pm. And I am studying for the last two hours, or at least trying to. Contrary to the 'should be flow of thoughts,' there are certain questionable thoughts trespassing in my mind, like taking a small break, having an early dinner, or coffee. Basically I am looking for any damn excuse I can find to get me out of this study desk without feeling too bad about myself.
When I come back after taking an elongated dinner break, I call a friend and ask him" what did he do today." He says," he barely did anything and his day was a complete waste." I take a sigh of consolation after Hearing this.
It's midnight, and I, as opposed to what I had originally planned, am thinking of sleeping. I rationalise, irrationalise, personalise, de-personalise, and after several acrimonious negotiations and re-negotiations I talk myself into going to bed with a promise to wake up really early tomorrow. Because I have a heavily packed schedule, phone switched off, and lots of books cluttered on the desk.
"get up you fucking piece of shit." That's... my conscience, always telling me to get it together.
I drag myself out of the bed. I pick up corporate law, and all I do is stare at it. I am so fucking pathetic.
I mean, I am looking at the book. The book's looking at me.
The book's looking at me like "what the fuck are you doing."
And I am like "I don't have a fucking idea."
Studying would have been extremely easy if it weren't for all the factors that conspire to stop me from being organised.
The first, and perhaps the biggest factor is me myself. I always have a picture of what I want to do, how I am going to do it. Unfortunately soon after starting I get a craving for subway burgers which is followed by a fag and coffee. Then I get distracted, thinking about what I should have done last week.
If this weren't bad enough, there are other scumbags too, just popping in for a chat, or asking for some information right away even though its going to take an hour to collect it, and I am already working on an urgent something.
There are phone calls, texts and cries for help and demands for attention. Those shitheads are out to snatch my time whenever they can. Even without other people the rest of the world eats away my time.
Then there is one real problem even if i manage to do everything I want to do,( a heavily packed schedule, phone switched off, a mind prepared for slogging, lots of books cluttered on the desk) I can not seem to start studying.
I have finished my lunch, I want to take an afternoon nap, but I can't, for I have to study (scheduled to study). You see, problem can't be without a solution and solution without a problem. I do what they call procrastination and I call it a little improvisation(it rhymes too).If I take my nap I have to cover it up late at night which is okay, for a nap will help me stay up at night. And that, of course, sounds very believable.
At 5 in the evening, I am still stuck in the same chapter. And so far my study routine has consisted of procrastination denial and sulking."Get on with it you fucking nutjob." Yeah, you are right, that's my dirty mouth trash talking conscience again.
It's 9pm. And I am studying for the last two hours, or at least trying to. Contrary to the 'should be flow of thoughts,' there are certain questionable thoughts trespassing in my mind, like taking a small break, having an early dinner, or coffee. Basically I am looking for any damn excuse I can find to get me out of this study desk without feeling too bad about myself.
When I come back after taking an elongated dinner break, I call a friend and ask him" what did he do today." He says," he barely did anything and his day was a complete waste." I take a sigh of consolation after Hearing this.
It's midnight, and I, as opposed to what I had originally planned, am thinking of sleeping. I rationalise, irrationalise, personalise, de-personalise, and after several acrimonious negotiations and re-negotiations I talk myself into going to bed with a promise to wake up really early tomorrow. Because I have a heavily packed schedule, phone switched off, and lots of books cluttered on the desk.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Things a man should not say/do
1) Wink wink.
2) Well, hellow.
3) Will you be my valentine.(to a stranger)
4) I want to do friendship with you.
5) A little bit of this, a little bit of that.
6) At the end of the day.( unless it's evening you are talking about)
7) Booty.(As neither ass nor plunder)
8) Wink at the queen, unless you are the president of America.
9) Never ask "will you dance with me(at a restaurant)
10) "can I ask you a question?"Didn't you give him/her a choice. Did you.
11) "Has the train come yet? If the train had come would I be standing here, you idiot.
12) In the elevator "I have new socks on."
13) "Did you see that?" No looser I have spent 200 bucks to come to the cinema to stare at the damn floor.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
"Life Sucks And then You F*****g Die"
It's your birthday, It could have been any other day, but It's not.It's your fucking birthday.you are broke and you are horny.you take the last long drag from your fag, inhale the stinging smoke, and break into a cough. Your chest hurts, your throat's fucked up.It makes you want to scream on top of your voice until you are out of breath, asphyxiating.you can't even do that, you need to breath to do that, you would breath, if you were not coughing , that is.
I am sick for three days straight.I feel like a cheap whore, tired and fucked.Dark bags around my eyes waiting to eat my eyes.I look at the mirror, it reflects something that used to look like face, but now looks like a filthy twat.
On my way to the doctor'
s chamber, I have trouble breathing.when I reach, I have to wait until three other sick people get their prescriptions.
It's a horrible place, this doctor's chamber.Full of sick people, drained of energy.you look around, not a single fucking smile on their faces.but the unfortunate, rather, unpleasant part is that, you look at all these people and you look at yourself... you don't know who to feel more sorry for.
There's a square table in front of me, cluttered with magazines.I pick one of them up. It's full of anorexic models with their non-existent, almost invisible breasts covered in bikinis.Even in my perturbed and horrid state of mind, I skip these photos and start reading a story on ipad.
It's irritating to an annoyingly excessive extent, for I could barely read a few line without coughing.I bet if the Guinness people were here, they would felicitate me with the world record for incessant coughing.The receptionist tells me to go upstairs,a decision I have to repent in a short while.
When I reach the floor, I feel an acute pain in my chest.my chest is burning. My rib cage hurts, I am panting, my legs shake, my hands sweat and shake, the back of throat is getting dry, my lungs wail for air, they crash, stiffen, choke, and all I could manage is an irrepressible fit of coughing.
I can't hear anything, except a buzzing sound like a humming bee, suddenly everything around me is turning dark, and I faint... Next thing I remember is that I am surrounded by women dressed in green, wearing green masks.My legs are frozen, I can't move, my upper body is going numb. One of them who is carrying an oxygen masks, makes her way toward me, puts it on my mouth, tying to the back of my head.I close my eyes and think.that is it. that's how my life ends.
Omygod! omyfuckingod! Oh! No! Please ! NO! Fuck! Fuck! I am too young to die, I haven't even reached my puberty, I mean, I have, but that doesn't mean I'll have to die.
I have spent half of my life sleeping and the other half eating, and now I am going to die.
I am lying on the hospital bed, peeved, brittle clinging on to my life like the spider clinging on to the hospital ceiling, upside down.If I wasn't lying here I'd be partying somewhere, sozzled. But Now I have to lie on the hospital bed until I grew bored...
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Not Imagining India
In old times, an Indian was born and drudged for the British till he died or cleaned royal toilets, I guess, they didn't have toilets then, so, he probably dug a big hole for the queen to poke her ass out and shit in, and that Indian had to clean the hole.One day he got pissed, and flew a hand grenade up their ass and fought until India got Independence from the stranglehold of the British.
This week India celebrated 63 years of it's independence.Prime minister's speech, patriotic songs, flag hoisting, social gathering in remembrance of the hero's of freedom struggle.....every one is happy and they get on with their lives.what are we celebrating?... 63 years of hunger, poverty, corruption.No!..we are celebrating a 7 percent GDP growth, shopping malls, a stable government full of jingoistic policies.Yeah.whatever.
What has freedom given us?.. for one we don't have to lick British arses anymore,.. and we've got enough big fat Indian arses sitting on powerful chairs to choose from...What is freedom?..Freedom is having a choice, freedom to choose.Well, you give us freedom to choose, right to vote, and we choose someone like Mayawati or Mamta Banerjee.This, isn't a discussion of "all politician are bad, all police officers are corrupt." No! to discuss that, would be to make horrors an object of discussion, this is not even an appeal to our national bodies to act more responsibly.
someone said, build infrastructure, integrate India, invest in the dysfunctional education system, and health care to make India a better place to live.Yeah,They could do that..once they are done haggling over a proposed 300 percent salary hike for the MPs.Ha.I don't have an amazing amount to talk about it, except it's hysterical.A series of walk outs, I mean.. can't you behave like humans, oh, that's too much too ask, okay, try behaving like monkeys, that will be a step up.
What do I think about this?.. I don't think about this.I don't have an opinion,no, not at all, I am not going to give my point of view, either.All I have is a question."why is India's youth so angry?" why do you see emotions of agony, resentment, anguish, indignation.. Because normal people are not always servile. Because normal people ask questions, demand accountability, transparency.Because there is disparity in India between people who have access to the goodies, and people who don't.
Because they don't have opportunity, least of all jobs.It's terrible how India hasn't solved the problem of malnutrition, where as much poorer countries like Africa has.What happens if you don't provide them nutritious food is that, you are not only hindering the growth of their brains, you are reducing the capabilities of the entire generation...
so, what can be done about it?..I don't know.. I already mentioned, I am done talking..We just like to talk and complain, the media like to sit and talk, for talking is easy, cowardish, but easy.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Do you hate Alok Chakraborty
For some reason, Alok Chakraborty needs an introduction, thirty years in teaching business, name slathered across calcutta for his prowess in cost accounting.This is Alok Chakraborty, discoverer, interpreter, creator of playful and hyperbolic offerings in the classroom, bubblegum-whipped, peripatetic genius, ill-tempered, bad mannered lout, warm hearted, rolling costing puzzles in his head,inviolable, unassailable, corpulent, bald, thick, juicy, fiftyish and unafraid: ladies and gentlemen,I give you the one and only Alok Chakraborty.
If you didn't know him, and you met him for the first time.You'd think he's a former heavyweight boxer or retired alcoholic wrestler.You'd think of anything but a teacher.A clean shaven man, who packed with so much pedagogy dignity that he could have been born in any country on any of the five continents and he would still have become a cost accounting teacher.
His ability to carry himself with martial grace and his talent to instill fear in 21 year old adults is legendary.I don't know any other teacher who could crack the dirtiest of jokes in the class and get away with it.
He has all over the room, cameras, so powerful, that if he zoomed in, he could see how many hair you have on your bum.So unlike the nature of his peers, he would check the home work of each and every student, no matter how much time it takes.if you happen to forget to do his homework, you are in for an embarrassment of epic proportions,he'd make stand up.hold your ears, sometimes bring you to the podium, make you look in the camera, just so the whole class can see you in the giant screen and laugh at you.
Because of his brazen and brusque manner of dismissing your question, if you Had a question, you'd rarely ask and even if you manage to ask you'd rarely get what you were looking for.
Do I understand Alok Chakraborty. Yes. I do.Its not always easy, but I do.I can even relate to him. of course, we weren't supposed to need to. He was supposed to be above that.He was never supposed to be a likable man, and never pretended to be.
He transcends beer tests, barbecue tests, and the rest of the tests of whether he was 'likable' enough as a teacher.It doesn't matter whether i want to have beer with him or not,He is Alok Chakraborty.What he represents is much larger than an individual, even himself.It is not necessarily a good thing that I have come to understand him, but I do. His brand is discipline.He wants you to care to study.He cares for your exam, probably the only teacher who does.
Do I hate Alok Chakraborty? of, course I do.everyone does.If there are 1000 CA finals students that he teaches, I bet they all hate him.But if you ask me out of all the subjects, which one I have given the most attention to, I have to say its cost.I am forced to study cost,everyone is.It's a difficult subject in the context of CA final exams.I think I have had enough, before I start typing about CA final exams and fill another 2-3 pages I've got to click on publish.
If you didn't know him, and you met him for the first time.You'd think he's a former heavyweight boxer or retired alcoholic wrestler.You'd think of anything but a teacher.A clean shaven man, who packed with so much pedagogy dignity that he could have been born in any country on any of the five continents and he would still have become a cost accounting teacher.
His ability to carry himself with martial grace and his talent to instill fear in 21 year old adults is legendary.I don't know any other teacher who could crack the dirtiest of jokes in the class and get away with it.
He has all over the room, cameras, so powerful, that if he zoomed in, he could see how many hair you have on your bum.So unlike the nature of his peers, he would check the home work of each and every student, no matter how much time it takes.if you happen to forget to do his homework, you are in for an embarrassment of epic proportions,he'd make stand up.hold your ears, sometimes bring you to the podium, make you look in the camera, just so the whole class can see you in the giant screen and laugh at you.
Because of his brazen and brusque manner of dismissing your question, if you Had a question, you'd rarely ask and even if you manage to ask you'd rarely get what you were looking for.
Do I understand Alok Chakraborty. Yes. I do.Its not always easy, but I do.I can even relate to him. of course, we weren't supposed to need to. He was supposed to be above that.He was never supposed to be a likable man, and never pretended to be.
He transcends beer tests, barbecue tests, and the rest of the tests of whether he was 'likable' enough as a teacher.It doesn't matter whether i want to have beer with him or not,He is Alok Chakraborty.What he represents is much larger than an individual, even himself.It is not necessarily a good thing that I have come to understand him, but I do. His brand is discipline.He wants you to care to study.He cares for your exam, probably the only teacher who does.
Do I hate Alok Chakraborty? of, course I do.everyone does.If there are 1000 CA finals students that he teaches, I bet they all hate him.But if you ask me out of all the subjects, which one I have given the most attention to, I have to say its cost.I am forced to study cost,everyone is.It's a difficult subject in the context of CA final exams.I think I have had enough, before I start typing about CA final exams and fill another 2-3 pages I've got to click on publish.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Why It's okay To Taste Your Own Breast Milk
Kourtney Kardashian, you have to understand is not crazy.The thirty year actress has confessed that she has tasted her own breast milk, and she liked it.No..! there's nothing to be astonished about,or disgusted or exited or whatever it is that people feel when they read something like this.
According to a recent poll in America, thirty percent of women said, they have tasted their own breast milk, thirty five percent said, they would like to taste their breast milk, thirty had indifferent opinion, five percent said they'd like to taste someone Else's(that must have been paris hilton and her friends).
Breast milk is a milk for infants, supposed to be highly nutritious. By mentioning this I don't mean to say that she is drinking her own milk for nutritious purpose, oh! come'on, its not like she is feeling a bit dizzy and she suddenly starts sucking her milk producing organ.No! that... I am sure she wouldn't do. That would be.. uh.. I don't know.. there are some things which are quite difficult to explain.
And if you are one of those "there is a reason behind every thing" types.Then you are free to do a research on it.but I think it's like asking why sky is blue, grass green, or why someone likes missionary position.Why the fuck do you even care.
Oh ! and that's time! sorry, guys, but this kind of stuff makes my eyes roll back in my head. I am, however, obligated to say that if there are questions you have, delete them from your head.and that's enough of that.kourtney, we forgive you, for drinking your own milk, as a matter of fact, who wouldn't?
Why am I talking about this? WTF I am better off those lousy news channels who are busy telecasting dhoni's weedding, or some sting operation or paris hilton's sex tape and every damn shit that can be captured on camera.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
2 Drunk men, Royal Bengal room, Girls, and bullshitting
"I think its on the left somewhere," the girl said.She said that pointing her fingers to the right.Either she was very stupid or day dreaming looking at two a little drunk and good looking men."
"You mean on the right side," I said
She managed a nervous smile and by the time she could say something, her friend pulled her by her hand, turned her and walked away telling me "it's there somewhere."
"wasn't that a Little rude," my friend DK said.I am not sure she heard it, even if she did, she did not turn back.
"Do you often come to city centre," DK asks.
"yes"
"Do you know where is royal Bengal room"
"It's near hangout"
"Where is hangout, actually we are new i the city," DK said
"It's near ...um...okay, come I'll show you."
He is so good at lying, especially with girls. There is not much to talk about DK, except he is tall, stinking rich, and he exists.
He thanked her, complimented her on her clothes or bag or some other shit that I cant remember.I call him Casanova,very apposite for him.
"Which state are you from," the woman asks.
"United states," I say.she laughs manically. I had to say this to stop two people staring at each other with obscene thought running in their heads..
A good 40 minutes had passed, we had asked this question to about 10 odd people.It was DK's idea, he likes bullshitting.
Then we saw a tall married women with attractive features, and loads of make up, she must put on make up with a shovel to have a face look like white paint.
I stared at all that was protruding, although I didn't want to. I was still staring while DK popped with the question.
she stopped, looked at me, examined all my organs, asked my name, where I lived, and promised to take us to Royal Bengal Room. Either she really wanted to help us or she was too sexually deprived.When we got to Royal Bengal room, to our utter dismay, It was closed, we had to pretend that we were calling someone to open the door, until she left, and before it became embarrassing.
Three girls were walking towards us, they were dressed in pink or black or pink or black, I am not sure.They had the usual smiles, the usual make up ALA Sex And The City, only they were younger and didn't have martini glasses in their hands.We step in and ask the usual question.One of them nudged another and she nudged someone else,we were made to repeat twice, then they came up with "ask someone else, we don't know."
How dumb isn't it.
"And that's it," I tell DK "you've had your fun ."
I turn and cross over to the side where the pan shop is.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Vuvuzela, Messi, me, and the biggest sporting extravaganza
You switch on the TV, you get a couch for yourself, you find a sweet a spot, and look for the remote, you can't find it, because you are sitting on it.You don't know that you are sitting on it, until you get up to pee, come back, sit on it again,and suddenly realise that your butt hurts.
You are pissed, you want to hurl the remote on to the TV, you would if you could, and if it wasn't a big ass plasma TV, You get to the sports channel, you don't look at the screen, you don't need to, you need to hear. yeah!If you hear that irritating noise of vuvuzela, you're sure the match is on.
You are bare foot, you are wearing shorts, your burgers are ready next to the table, you have a fag in one hand, and popcorn in another, and your favorite player is on show today, Lionel Messi.It feels wonderful.
Messi takes on three defenders, goes past another two, then he is tripped, pushed, shoved, and manhandled.These bloody German's wont let him play, wont let him have the ball.The crowd erupts, it's a goal, the German's score, all 4 of them. Diego Maradona berries his face in his hands.I wonder what he Will do after this defeat.I wonder what Argentina will do if he leaves.i wonder how messi's feeling. "He must be devastated," one of the commentator says.
This month has been a week of upsets.Brazil knocked out in the second round.Last year's finalist's Italy and France couldn't even make it to second round.Fedrer lost to berdych.It would have been another upset had Holland won, But spain deserved it.I am quite fond of the way Spain play, but I was a little disappointed, however.Yes they won the world cup, but didn't play like the champions.It doesn't matter what I think. What matter's is that, they are the European Champions and now the world champions.
Players like Kaka, Ronaldo, Rooney, Messi, Torres couldn't show their magic.Still, though veteran's like Robben, Forlarn and xavi showed their class.Thomas Muller must be in the seventh heaven. You are 20 years old, it's your first world cup, and you win the golden boot, that's what you call destiny, I guess. The biggest sporting event , We are going to miss it of course.The arguments, late night beer with friends, the roller coaster emotional ride, the octopus making headlines, winning bets.We use to bet like crazy,Really crazy, thank god Spain won or else my friend was supposed to piss on my feet, that was the bet.since the World Cup is over,If you are still wondering how you are going to spend your evenings.Read my blog.That's your answer.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
There's always something to infuriate me, always.
Unless, of course, you have the charm, a pleasant appearance, and the grace to carry it off, all that attitude is nugatory.
I felt a twitch of annoyance, yes, I use the word twitch here Because that's exactly how I felt yesterday, during Sanjay Saraf's Strategic financial management's class, when I was asked not to talk by a girl sitting in front me.
Because It's seven in the morning, and because Sanjay Saraf is like your old uncle who just won't shut up, the class is exceedingly monotonous and sleep inducing, to say the least. Therefore I sit at the back, crack jokes, have fun, which the girl didn't seem to like, I presume.
Right. So I stop talking, not entirely, but partly, rather softly, not that I wanted to,however.But It's alright if It's causing people trouble.
I wouldn't have spoken to her had she been not arrogant while talking to me.
"Hey, were you not able to hear properly," I ask her.
"no," she says.
"I should hope not, it was a private conversation," I say with a big smile on my face.
"I know it was a private conversation,but I was getting distracted,"
what? It's a joke sunshine, and you are supposed to laugh, if you understand it, that is.
"you should focus on the screen instead of eavesdropping," I say with a smile not as big as the previous one.
"But I was getting distracted," she says pointing to her ears.
"shut the hell up, you just don't get it. Do you? It's all wasted on you.Isn't it? you white trash piece of dumb ass," I wanted to say this, but didn't(because she's a lady and you should treat her like a lady. I don't say it. Tom Jones says it in his song "She's A Lady")
I find it ludicrous and extremely puerile.Only goodness knows Why these girls have this deliberate an stubborn desire to behave unacceptably, It's like a turtle , you touch them and they'll go into their shell to protect themselves.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
"I WISH I WAS WATER"
“Honey tell me” she asks now “why do you think people see aliens”
My face is in my hand and am shaking it, I say I’m sorry honey but go over there and please hide from me.
I sat her down and tried to explain. "Look honey" "I want you to ask yourself each time before you speak" "Is it making sense." If your answer to any of these question is "no," then whatever the thing is , no matter what, you are forbidden to tell me.
-------------------------------
One of my friends wanted to get couple of dogs, she says they are better than men.Ha
"baby, dogs cant love you, support you, go to bed with you, unless you are really desperate."
-------------------------------
Over there, in the corner, the girl who went to the washroom before calling out the order, That girl, walking with a small little hand bag in her hand or is that a dog.
Why don't I know her or someone like her. That girl, I bet, could make me very happy.
-------------------------------
"I can't remember," "What comes after C as in cat"
"No," it can't be D as in depression, but I prefer keeping my guesses to myself.
-------------------------------
I remember I used to drink Red Bull in the hope that it would energies me, that's how dumb I was.
Not too dumb, I think, the can said 'Energy drink.'
--------------------------------
My friend bought a DOKOMO Sim. When I asked why, he said, he liked the advert and wanted to have some fun with it, I think he forgot It's DOKOMO no DICKMO, but even if it was, why would he want to have fun with it, unless he's had a sex change recently that he wants to keep secret.
--------------------------------
I wish I was water, colorless, odorless and without a taste, and yet, no living can live without it.
--------------------------------
My face is in my hand and am shaking it, I say I’m sorry honey but go over there and please hide from me.
I sat her down and tried to explain. "Look honey" "I want you to ask yourself each time before you speak" "Is it making sense." If your answer to any of these question is "no," then whatever the thing is , no matter what, you are forbidden to tell me.
-------------------------------
One of my friends wanted to get couple of dogs, she says they are better than men.Ha
"baby, dogs cant love you, support you, go to bed with you, unless you are really desperate."
-------------------------------
Over there, in the corner, the girl who went to the washroom before calling out the order, That girl, walking with a small little hand bag in her hand or is that a dog.
Why don't I know her or someone like her. That girl, I bet, could make me very happy.
-------------------------------
"I can't remember," "What comes after C as in cat"
"No," it can't be D as in depression, but I prefer keeping my guesses to myself.
-------------------------------
I remember I used to drink Red Bull in the hope that it would energies me, that's how dumb I was.
Not too dumb, I think, the can said 'Energy drink.'
--------------------------------
My friend bought a DOKOMO Sim. When I asked why, he said, he liked the advert and wanted to have some fun with it, I think he forgot It's DOKOMO no DICKMO, but even if it was, why would he want to have fun with it, unless he's had a sex change recently that he wants to keep secret.
--------------------------------
I wish I was water, colorless, odorless and without a taste, and yet, no living can live without it.
--------------------------------
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Our government office staff are not inefficient, they just don't want to work.
I was already tired and feeling a bit sick and they made me more tired and sick at canara bank. getting your job done quickly is not an easy task at non-private banks.Those who have been there know what I mean. When I went to this bank to withdraw some money they said “I cant withdraw” because it’s a minor account. I was like “What” it’s my account. They said the computer says I am a minor so they can’t honour the cheque.
“Don’t you fucking loose your temper on this,” I tell myself.
This sort of thing happens in these banks so I have to remain calm here. “if you don’t update your system, its none of my fault” I tell them. "We can’t do anything. We would need a photograph and your PAN card for verification."they say.( What the… I cant believe I am tolerating all this). I knew any explanation would be futile, and If I shout at them, I know for sure they’ll not do it even it’s an error on their part .
The only way out here is telling them, very politely that you really need money and addressing them as “SIR” telling sentences like “please sir”. It really works I say, 200 hundered years of colonialism and of addressing brits as "sir" if you didn’t want to get beaten up, it hasn’t changed a bit even after freedom.
So I said what I needed to, in a manner that I needed to. They told me to wait, in the mean time there was a man who was apparently denied payment too because he had written “seven thousand rupees only” in words which is incorrect as per the bank staff and he was supposed to write” seven thousand only”Ha.
I looked at my pen and thought there is a lot you can do with your pen like killing people, I was never going to do that ’I was just expressing an opinion.'
At times I can be verbally abusive. "No" "but really can't" "can't abuse them" "It wont have the effect" "To do that they'd have to know the language better, they'd have to know, first of all, what is a verb"
“Don’t you fucking loose your temper on this,” I tell myself.
This sort of thing happens in these banks so I have to remain calm here. “if you don’t update your system, its none of my fault” I tell them. "We can’t do anything. We would need a photograph and your PAN card for verification."they say.( What the… I cant believe I am tolerating all this). I knew any explanation would be futile, and If I shout at them, I know for sure they’ll not do it even it’s an error on their part .
The only way out here is telling them, very politely that you really need money and addressing them as “SIR” telling sentences like “please sir”. It really works I say, 200 hundered years of colonialism and of addressing brits as "sir" if you didn’t want to get beaten up, it hasn’t changed a bit even after freedom.
So I said what I needed to, in a manner that I needed to. They told me to wait, in the mean time there was a man who was apparently denied payment too because he had written “seven thousand rupees only” in words which is incorrect as per the bank staff and he was supposed to write” seven thousand only”Ha.
I looked at my pen and thought there is a lot you can do with your pen like killing people, I was never going to do that ’I was just expressing an opinion.'
At times I can be verbally abusive. "No" "but really can't" "can't abuse them" "It wont have the effect" "To do that they'd have to know the language better, they'd have to know, first of all, what is a verb"
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Movie With Encapsulating Moments
When I was 12 my mom told me , "never judge a book by it's cover."
So when I was 22 I did.
After seeing "My name is Khan" I am forced to take back my views in my previous posts about this movie's promos. Yes, this Karn johar movie is predictable, yes, its also based in US but its filled with hair raising moments and great performances. My Name Is Khan is oddly compelling and at times riveting. The journey of Rizwan khan takes you on a 2.5 hrs emotional ride.
I am not going to talk about the story,screenplay,music as such . I liked the movie for it's encapsulating moments. Thus, I am going to tell you about that. I felt a little awkward to see the super star as an autistic person but after 5 minutes I started to love the character.
1. Kajol takes a chocolate from the table all ready to put it in the mouth glances over to shahrukh, shahrukh shakes his head and gestures like a fat person meaning "don't eat it, it will make you fat." Kajol puts it back on the table.
2. Shahrukh talking bout the usp of the product that he sells-kajol blocking his vision-shahrukh avoiding eye contact-finally meeting her eyes-kajol saying "I'll take it."
3.Shahrukh proposing to kajol while having haircut.
4.Kajol looks over San Francisco ( covered in early morning smoke), wearing her night suit, says "Marry Me" to shahrukh and audience all goes "Awwww."
5.Shahrukh telling Kajol - he has read "intercourse For dumbos" that he knows everything about sex - on their wedding night.
6. Shahrukh goes to a fund raising event for African children where he'll get the chance to meet the President, gives $500 required to have dinner with the President. The lady doesn't let him go inside, since, its a Christian only event and returns the money. Shahrukh then tells her to keep it for non Christian african children.
This is probably the first movie where Shahrukh doesn't lip sync. I have to say Karan johar has come of age , it's not a very powerfull movie but still spreads the msg of peace and communal harmony powerfully. If you don't go expecting too much from the movie then you will not be disapointed.
If you happened to like the song "Tere Naina" you'll start loving it after watching the movie.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Oh shit ! It's Valentines Day Again !!!!!
There was a time when one heard only of teacher’s day and children’s day. Today we are flooded with special days. There is Valentine ’s Day, friendship’s day, boss’s day, mother’s day, father’s day, veteran’s day- you name it you got it.
Valentine’s Day, one of the most popular special days which has caught on like fire. We have little or no connection with this occasion; yet, the response to Valentine’s Day in India has resulted in sales of cards and gifts that, I am told, surpasses even those of diwali!
There is now a special day for every relationship, each one designated for us tell our girlfriends/boyfriends mother’s, father’s, or whoever how much we love them , not of course by picking up the telephone and expressing our feelings, not even by writing a letter, but by sending cards, flowers, chocolates or gifts of one sort or another.
What we are witnessing is blatant commercialization of emotion. Its obvious that whole idea of having special days has stemmed from greeting card companies and producer’s of such thing as gifts , perfumes and confectionery. Cynics may sniff contemptuously about people falling for these marketing gimmicks but the truth of the matter is they won’t have succeeded had the ground in which the card companies sowed their seeds not been ultra fertile . Perhaps, as people live a busier life and spend less time their loved ones, they fel the need to assuage their guilt by making a fuss over them or perhaps with more money in their pockets, they welcome a new avenue of spending.
How one wonders, are these special days chosen! I dare say not, How do the greeting card companies decide which day eill be dedicated to which member of the family? When should boss be honoured and when the secretary? The answer—just follow the west…
We have also made our own indigenous offering: “Karva Chouth” as husband’s day “Bhaiya Dooj” as brothers day, and “Jamai Shasthi” as son-in-law’s day. So far traditionally we can look forward to their being jazzed up and with cards and sweets! but I’m afraid that no foreign company is inclined to take those days in their country.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
THE PRINCIPLE , HIS DAUGHTER, AND MY PAY DAY(PART 2)
This post is a continuation of the my last post with the same title.
She, Then, moved towards the mirror, carefully arranged her hair, clipped it, when it was done, went inside the kitchen.
She came in with an empty jar to offer me water . I just love it when girls daydream and mess things up.
"Fill in your name on the cheque," the principle said.
I took the cheque and gave him cash, they were all 500 hundred rupee notes.
"you know there are so many fake notes in the market these days." he said while counting the notes using his spit.
"yes sir there are," I said
"These notes look suspicious to me." "You see this note, see how prominent the silver ribbon is", he said showing me the note.
Now he had started to really piss my brains off. I took the note inspected it carefully.(the note was perfectly fine)
"No sir I took them out from the ATM just now,"
"But that's no proof that they can't be fake."
"Sir, the note is fine you can check it for yourself . The silver/green security strip has got RBI printed on it, Gandhi's head is printed at center, 500 hundred printed transparently on the side..........
"Wo sab toh thik hai, he stopped me in between.But no one will take it.
"sorry sir I don't have any other note right now."
"Okay do one thing," "sign at back of each note," "just in case I have problems"
"what?" "shut the hell up, you filthy , potbellied egghead". I wanted to say , but that round face and pink lips flashed through my eyes again .I somehow resisted my impulses of abusing him.
I signed the notes, took the cheque, got up and got out.
i don't know how people like him exist. why people like him exist.
She, Then, moved towards the mirror, carefully arranged her hair, clipped it, when it was done, went inside the kitchen.
She came in with an empty jar to offer me water . I just love it when girls daydream and mess things up.
"Fill in your name on the cheque," the principle said.
I took the cheque and gave him cash, they were all 500 hundred rupee notes.
"you know there are so many fake notes in the market these days." he said while counting the notes using his spit.
"yes sir there are," I said
"These notes look suspicious to me." "You see this note, see how prominent the silver ribbon is", he said showing me the note.
Now he had started to really piss my brains off. I took the note inspected it carefully.(the note was perfectly fine)
"No sir I took them out from the ATM just now,"
"But that's no proof that they can't be fake."
"Sir, the note is fine you can check it for yourself . The silver/green security strip has got RBI printed on it, Gandhi's head is printed at center, 500 hundred printed transparently on the side..........
"Wo sab toh thik hai, he stopped me in between.But no one will take it.
"sorry sir I don't have any other note right now."
"Okay do one thing," "sign at back of each note," "just in case I have problems"
"what?" "shut the hell up, you filthy , potbellied egghead". I wanted to say , but that round face and pink lips flashed through my eyes again .I somehow resisted my impulses of abusing him.
I signed the notes, took the cheque, got up and got out.
i don't know how people like him exist. why people like him exist.
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