Ideas unlimited Opinions uninvited

Longest day

2010-04-13T17:50:00.000-07:00

The minutes have never crawled more slowly and yet, I am utterly unprepared for what I am anxiously waiting for. Thoughts of him swim around in my mind like schools of fish nibbling every last piece of sanity that my heart can cling to. What really frightens me is that I do not have an answer myself to the question I wish to ask him.

Is this the start of something anew or are we burning a bridge? Damned if I knew.

Why is it that I can't dismiss hesitation and swing a blade swiftly?
Why is it that I worry more about the wounds I might inflict on him even as I bleed away myself?
Why is it that he's holding back when he knows I treat him perfectly?
Why is it I obsess over these whys when he's probably not even right for me?

Should this be an end to ten weeks of dreams, then let my hands not turn bloody with the stain of a selfish act.

Catharsis

2010-04-11T23:52:00.000-07:00

The heart is a stupid fool.

Atleast mine sure is. I honestly wish I knew how to put it out of its misery.

You see, the silly thing never learns,does it? Is it so impossible to stop expecting things from the ones who matter a lot?

Yet, there seems to contain in it a staggering capacity to love. Problem is, there is just immense pain filling this right now and I wish I knew how to vent it out.

While we are wishing for impossible things, I also wish I could learn to love less.

Yes sir...the heart is a stupid fool.

Freefall

2010-04-11T01:41:00.000-07:00

Could it be I feel you closer
With every word that draws us apart?
Do your kisses seem sweeter now
That they don't visit my lips so much
In sanity, I'd be on the path out
Nursing wounded heart in wake of tears
Alas, insanity that hosts me now
Crazed passion harboured within
Slippery slope it is, I know
Perhaps one you can't crawl out of
As you teeter on this edge
Holding tight lest you fall
Go ahead, I dare you, love
Let go for I am here
Catch you and carry you safe
Quell your fears should any arise
Isn't much I couldn't do for you
Save maybe love you less...

Confessions

2010-02-25T22:03:00.000-08:00

Silver sliver slipped in silent
Settled on my sheets as I searched
Searched in them your sweet kisses
Scattered somewhere between sweet nothings
Slowly sinking into satin depths
If ever the heart should wish you ache
Perhaps tonight you are sleepless too...

Cherish

2010-02-19T22:46:00.000-08:00

Restless feathers ruffle relentless
Twitching with the caress of teasing breeze
The slightest touch, a continuum of thrill
Exhilaration every step, a new world
Allure leads with mystic grace
Doubt follows, her dark shadow
Tis scary yes, young fledgling
But remember what the wise man said
This now be a journey, road untrodden
Fear not the end, far beyond sight
Savour the ride of your heart's tide

Affirmation

2010-02-19T22:05:00.000-08:00

As the sun sets on your day and mirth fades
What is born a gentle breeze now turns chill
Darkness descends, unwelcome guest
With it, a million minions
Was it you?Him?Them?
A word misspoken, an act misplaced
Why now alone and confused?
Unveil the night, your moon beckons
See this world in her light
Cold but soft, dim yet demure
Lake's glass beholds your beauty
Look in, look through, look back
Seek this place when the heart wonders
Ne'er forget, you blind a thousand suns

Reconnection:Meeting the gods, the godly and everyone else

2010-01-30T20:10:00.000-08:00

It is no surprise that I do not hold the Indian diaspora in Portland in high esteem after having spent over 3 years in the Pacific Northwest. For a community of its size with a good majority taking home six-figure salaries by designing microchips or performing heart surgeries, I have observed that there is a clear dearth of services catering to the needs of its people. Topping that list is the fact that there is just one hindu temple in the area which is sadly lacking on all fronts. A bitter tryst with the head priest at this temple left me disillusioned for a long time and I have been yearning to enjoy the practice of my faith in a better venue. Thus it happened that on my trip to India, I decided to reconnect with the pantheon of Hindu gods and goddesses and make up for lost time.

Amma and Appa were only too thrilled to support this and we set off on a Friday morning as unseasonal clouds darkened the skies and sent heavy raindrops our way. Our primary destination was the Parthasarathy temple in the Triplicane neighbourhood of old Chennai. Weaving our way through rush hour traffic on Chennai's busy streets, the morning's adventure took us through familiar routes I took when I used to zip around town on my Kinetic Honda scooter. By the time we got on Santhome High Road, we were literally crawling amidst the din of a million cars and bikes honking their daily indignation. Looking out of the window, I felt sorry for the dozens of school kids trudging their way on the sidewalk with backpacks like boulders. I lowered my window and whipped out my camera causing some of them to stare doe-eyed and others to straighten up and brush off their wrinkled uniforms.
On my right loomed a tall Gothic-looking tower in the center of a large courtyard. The white spires stood out in the darkness of the morning sky, almost ominously reminding the city about its presence. Santhome church is is said to be one of only 3 churches in the world (the other two located in Spain and Italy) to be built over the tomb of an apostle. St. Thomas travelled to India in 52AD and is said to have been martyred at Mount St.Thomas near what is now Chennai's airport. Popular belief exists that sand taken from the apostle's tomb has miraculous healing powers. A fleeting glimpse of the church was enough to make me want to visit some time soon and I felt ashamed to admit that I had never bothered to do so during the 20 years that I had lived in this city.

Traffic improved once we got onto Beach Road. Several state offices occupied vast estates on this road facing the world-famous Marina Beach and the Bay of Bengal. Four years ago, the tsunami from Indonesia had rocked this area bad enough to cause the waters to sweep cars away from the beach's parking lots. Today, life was back to normal with morning joggers and daydreamers on their way as Gandhi strode in the opposite direction.

We veered left from Beach Road to enter Old Chennai and chaos erupted inside the car, adding to the confusion of a hundred little alleys outside.
"It is right here!We make a right turn where the old lady is selling jasmine flowers under the banyan tree!", yelled my mom.
"You talk like she's set up a landmark store here!Use your head!What if she moved the rickety wooden stand of a shop to another street?All I see under the banyan tree is a pile of rubble and a little girl selling roses.",retorted my dad.
"That's probably her granddaughter!I know it is!"
We spent a few more minutes debating about the ancestry of an unknown flower woman before Appa lost his patience and swerved right causing a cyclist to nearly lose his balance and jump into an open gutter.
"Relax!We have an agreement on these roads. They know how to handle themselves...", he silenced me with a wave of his hand after he heard me shriek.
I was marvelling at this virtual exchange of information which pedestrians, commuters and hawkers facilitated and wondered when I had managed to lose that valuable skill of interception. My thoughts were distracted by the sight of century-old walls painted in red and white stripes and the sound of giant brass bells ringing in the distance. We had finally arrived at the grand old Parthasarathy temple.

Amma got busy shopping for prayer offerings and I looked around to take in the sight of the temple's imposing gopuram(pyramidal tower) and dhwajastambh(brass pillar). Twelve hundred years ago, Pallava dynasty kings built this awe-inspiring temple which was later reinforced by Chola and Vijaynagar kings. To this day, the temple opens its doors at the break of dawn to welcome the devoted, the hapless and the lost who are looking for a brief respite from the city's maddening crowds just outside. The temple is dedicated to Lord Krishna, Vishnu's 8th incarnation, to recognize his role as a charioteer (Partha=Arjuna, sarathy=charioteer) steering Arjuna amidst the chaos of the Mahabharata war. In keeping with tradition, Lord Krishna, the charioteer, did not carry his weapons to the battlefield and grew a moustache that is strikingly visible when you see his massive idol reclining in the sanctum sanctorum.

We stepped into the temple's premises after leaving our footwear outside. Amma and Appa strode quickly to the main sannidhi(sanctum sanctorum) and I lagged behind, taking time to take in every sight and sound. The sannidhi is housed in a massive mandapam(pavilion) filled with spiral pathways in the shape of a square. There is a definitive science which lays down guidelines for the construction of a temple in accordance with the spiritual intention of its devotees to overcome obstacles they face as they cross several barriers (represented by the concentric squares) to get closer to the divine. Ofcourse, none of that mattered to the dozens of 80-year old Hindu brahmin grannies dressed in 9-yard sarees as they took baby steps along the narrow pathways. Petite and utterly delightful with their white hair pulled into buns and their wrinkled faces adorned by dazzling diamonds, the ladies looked up to peer at me through thick,dirty glasses. Wisps of fragrance from scented incense hung in the dimly lit pathways. I let these women lead me as my feet stepped on the wet,stony floor. In several corners, groups of young boys huddled together to study scriptures and chant the same Sanskrit verses which had resonated in these halls for centuries. The power walkers among the devotees sped along to every altar, sometimes nearly breaking into a run and leaving me behind with the granny bunch shaking their heads in slight disapproval. The experience was turning out to be a feast for the senses and exactly what I was hoping it would be.

We finally entered the sanctum sanctorum of the main deity. The final moment when the deity is in sight is meant to be a personal one. Your experience is yours alone and in that state of absolute devotion and surrender, nothing exists but darkness. No desires,joys,sorrows or fears interrupt your thoughts which focus on the deity. Your prayers are rewarded by a darshan(the sighting of the deity), the only light which exists in this darkness. A priest lights a piece of camphor and helps you take in the sight of an idol of the divine. Fire has always been recognized as the messenger of the Gods and smoke from the camphor's flames rises to the heavens taking your prayers with it. As luck would have it, the main idol was curtained off for general darshan that morning due to oil treatments for the longevity of the stone that the idol was made out of. Regardless, it was an awe-inspiring sight to even watch the smaller brass idols of the Lord and his consorts as they shone in the radiance of a single camphor. These smaller brass idols are smaller replicas of the original stone idols and they are taken out in procession on important festival days. Hindus consider any and every thing within the premises of a temple to be sacred thus delivering equal sanctity to brass replicas regardless of their size.

Men and women filed on opposite sides of the narrow passageway so that the main priest could walk back and forth,carrying offerings and donations. Tulsi (basil) leaves were distributed to everyone and some women received packets of vermilion as well. The men quickly ate the basil leaves. The women immediately shared their vermilion with each other until all of them had marks on their foreheads the size of small coins. I wondered if either sex would have felt comfortable sharing what they had received with each other.

Stepping out of the sanctum sanctorum, there were dozens of smaller shrines which awaited our visit. The Parthasarathy temple has the distinction of housing shrines for 4 of Vishnu's 10 incarnations. Spread a few dozen shrines over an area the size of a few football fields and you had square miles of history, culture and legacy waiting to feed the intellectually starved. Every pillar was carved with inscriptions dating back hundreds of years and it was all I could do to spend the entire day there.

After prayers had been offered to every God and Goddess in the Hindu pantheon, we settled down to enjoy some food offerings which were for sale within the premises. You can tell a lot about a temple's finances by the quality of food they serve. This one was in no dire straits and the vada that I tasted simply had to be the best temple-style vada I had ever tasted. Either that or my tastebuds had forgotten their Indian roots after all these years! Before we exited the temple, I had to dispose the eco-friendly plates made by stitching banyan leaves. I noticed 3 scraggy kittens playing in a corner while a scrawny dog, mongrel perhaps, stretched himself to settle down for a mid-morning nap. The temple truly considers all life forms to be sacred.

Hindu temples generally do not allow photography within their walls but I was lucky that day to get permission to use my camera in the outermost courtyard area. As I was busy clicking at inscriptions and carvings, a small group of brahmin students (evident from the marks on their foreheads and the dhotis they were wearing.Plus, who doesn't go to school on a Fri morning if you can afford it?) came rushing towards me. I geared up for a wonderful "welcome-to-our temple" moment.

"You cannot really take any pictures inside the temple!"
"But I have already asked for permission", I countered.
"From who?"
"That guy over there sitting in the temple's office", I replied and immediately regretted it. I hoped the young boys wouldn't walk over and correct the temple assistant. It seemed wrong to deny visitors the joy of capturing memories on film when it was clearly not against temple or traditonal to do so.

We finished taking pictures and stepped out to retrieve our shoes. Amma started to pick up some more supplies for the prayer room at home while the shop-owner politely offered other items for consideration. My gaze rested on a small 2-piece case woven out of strips of palm leaves. The owner's father picked it up and held it in his wobbly hands for me to see. I paused to realise that this family had probably been engaged in this business of selling condiments outside the Parthasarathy temple for generations. Among the many things they carried in the tiny bunker shop was this case woven out of palm leaves-a timeless tradition in itself and a small source of livelihood for a family struggling to eke out a living in the world of leather cases and satin pouches. I wondered if it wasn't unreasonable to worry that Chennai's city scenes might lose these classic elements in a few years given the giant leaps it was taking to don a new look.

Our next stop was going to be the famed Kapalishwar/Karpagambal temple in Mylapore. Getting back on Beach Road, we passed an interesting building with arched windows. King Frederic Tudor built this in 1842 to store ice imported from Europe and the building changed hands between landlords until one time, Swami Vivekananda stayed here for a few days on his visit to the south in 1897. He agreed to his disciples' request to make this a permanent ashram and thus, 'Ice House' officially became 'Vivekananda House'.

The sun was beginning to come out by the time we pulled into one of the narrow streets surrounding Karpagambal temple. If you've never been there, you should know that you are better off getting a ride or walking to the temple since parking can be a major hassle. With luck, we managed to find a narrow spot between 2 buxom Ambassador cars, India's champion cruiser of pot-hole spotted roads. As Appa tried to manouevre our Camry in reverse gear, an emaciated buffalo sitting in our spot near the wall could not be less concerned but it was everything a pot-bellied parking attendant could do to hurry over and issue a ticket. "Can't you do something about this mess here? Look at those cab drivers thinking they own the road!Can't you ask them to move or something?",yelled my father. Between huffs and puffs, the parking attendant shot a quizzical look as if nothing was out of the ordinary and he saw no reason for complaint.

Legend has it that the Kapalishwar/Karpagambal temple dedicated to Shiva and Parvati (in those incarnations) is atleast 1400 years old. Showing disrespect to Shiva caused Brahma(the Creator) to lose one of his heads and in regret, he built an image of Shiva in this area with a garland of skulls to worship him as Kapalishwar (kapala=skull, ishwar=lord). Parvati united with the Lord in the form of a peahen(mayil), thus giving the area its name,Mylapore(land of peacocks).
The original gopuram constructed by Pallava kings sometime in the 7th century was destroyed by the Portuguese and the Vijayanagar kings rebuilt it much later. Dozens of Gods, Goddesses, celestial spirits and other beings adorn the gopuram and tell stories from the Puranas(ancient scriptures) for miles around.

The temple occupies sprawling grounds in the heart of the city and boasts of a huge tank among its many pavilions. For many Chennaiites, the temple has become an integral part of their lives. When she was a little girl, my mother used to travel from north India to visit her cousins in Mylapore every summer and the holidays always involved nightly walks to this temple. Years later, when she was pregnant with my brother, she would make offerings to the residing Goddess Karpagambal (Light of the womb). After I was born, she would bring us frequently and we enjoyed running around the temple's premises before settling for delicious rose-water flavoured sodas. Within these 4 massive walls, children played, lovers united and split in clandestine meetings, parents lamented their woes and groups of women huddled to gossip about their friends who weren't present.

After we had finished receiving darshans of the presiding deities, I decided to visit the temple's tank. Occupying an area almost as big as the temple itself, the tank had perennially been dry since as far as I could remember. Last month's lashing by the monsoons had however filled it to capacity and the sight was a rare, serene one. A few rupees unlocked the heavy padlock that hung on the tank's iron gates and we climbed down gingerly on the wet steps. A priest started to throw puffed rice and hoards of catfish materialised out of nowhere to gobble up what fell on the water's surface. I was frankly astounded by the number of fish which thrived here and the sight reminded me of piranhas congregating in a carnivorous frenzy.

The afternoon sun was beginning to blaze down and hunger started to strike our own bellies ferociously. No visit to a hindu temple is complete without paying obeisance to the 9 planets that rule the cosmos and your destiny. Completing 9 rounds around the raised pedestal which housed idols of these gods, I stepped out to start taking more pictures of the main gopuram on our way out. The Kapalishwar temple had a better policy about using cameras and visitors could purchase tickets for a small fee to use their recording devices.

Groups of european tourists clustered around a temple attendant as he talked about the temple's history and legends. No sooner had I finished taking some pictures of motifs on the walls when a priest shuffled over to politely remind me that I needed to purchase a ticket to take pictures. Briefly annoyed, I assured him that I was aware of the rules and flashed my ticket stub. After he walked away satisfied, I wondered if he had bothered to check if the european tourists also had tickets for their cameras.

It is traditional to break a coconut or atleast offer it to the gods when you visit a temple. The coconut's matted exterior shell represents the many strands of the human ego. Devout hindus believe in shattering this to expose the pure soul that solely concentrates on uniting with the divine. This is represented by the tender, white inside of a coconut. Stepping out of the temple, Appa took care of the coconut we had in hand. A bunch of street urchins hung around closely and then pounced on the pieces of coconut which went flying in every direction. The sorry sight reminded me of the catfish in the tank inside.

Deciding that we couldn't go a minute longer without having a meal, it was a unanimous decision to head to Saravana Bhavan, the ubiquitous south-Indian restaurant chain that was known for its delicious traditional fare. 120 rupees or the equivalent of three dollars got us an astoundingly sumptuous lunch with atleast 25 items starting with Gujarati dhokla+cumin water and ending with 3 different kinds of desserts. If the morning's activities had been a feast for the soul, the afternoon's lunch was a matching feast for the body. Overall, the day had turned out to be a feast for the senses.

Stepping out after lunch, our eyes were blinded by hundreds of glass bangles glittering in the mid-day sun. Small bunk shops adorned the walls of the temple and their wares ranged from plastic toys and cheap fabric to kitchen utensils and souvenirs. Appa and Amma knew better than to let the shopaholic in me wander astray and we piled back into our Camry to weave our way back home.

The morning had been more satisfying in every way than I could have ever expected it to be. A part of me wanted to cling on to every minute and make it last longer so that I could enjoy it just a little bit more. Maybe I had lost myself so much in the chaos within me that I had forgotten to pause and take a step back to see the bigger picture. Maybe I had lost myself in the chaos outside that I had become one with the milling crowd. These were the moments when you wondered what it was all worth-the perfect job, the greatest family, the best friends ever, the most memorable experiences. How often do we pause to put ourselves under the microscope and figure out what really 'gets' us? Do we devote enough time for personal reflection as we rightfully should?

The thoughts were circling in my mind as Ramakrishna Mission passed us by. Swami Vivekananda had established this in honour of his guru, Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, and Subash had told me that he often visited the Mission to spend hours in peaceful meditation.

Leaving Mandaveli to cross the Adyar River back to home base, I spotted a huge billboard that echoed my thoughts. Jesus was calling as well.

But for a moment...

2010-01-21T20:44:00.000-08:00

He woke up with a start as he felt his nose turn snuffy. He'd been sleeping belly down and arms folded with his face nuzzled in his elbow. He realised that his forearm was warm and covered with sweat although the heat in his studio apartment was down and it was winter. He had been in this position for over thirty minutes and it was starting to hurt. He was starting to feel warm under his sheets and badly wanted to kick them back and stretch his legs. He dared not.

He raised his head a bit to see him sleeping peacefully. He was on his side and his alabaster skin shone softly in the moonlight streaking through the window. His forearm was stretched and his fingers were agonizing centimeters away from his lips, barely grazing elbow. He let out a breath of air with a hiss and parted his lips ever so slightly.

It was torture he couldn't stand a moment longer yet he wanted this moment to last an eternity. In all the time they had spent together so far, never had he felt such an intense passion to be so close nor had he felt so weakened by a magnetism he never knew existed between them. He looked back at the times when they'd been out checking guys on the street or at the waterfront on summer days. He remembered every single time he had picked up the phone to get excited about yet another first date only to call back the next day and bitch about it. He remembered never wanting to get off the phone when they chatted and always agreeing to meet up at a moment's notice. All along, he'd known deep down that he harboured fond feelings but the night had just revealed just how strong they had grown. He closed his eyes and remembered their kiss one more time. He couldn't recall anything being sweeter. And yet...

The pain was too much now. He raised his frame gingerly and slid out of bed. He paused for a minute to stare fondly at the sleeping form on the other side and then walked into the next room. He threw himself on a chair and sighed loudly.

"Something's changed."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't face him again. It's different..."
"What are you talking about? It's him. Nothing can be different"
"No, it definitely is. I crossed the line last night. I know I did. I don't know what got into me!"
"Calm down......tell me what happened..."
"Well, you know I've always had a little thing for him. I mean, of course I loved him as a friend but sometimes...sometimes it just felt so right, you know? Like, we just made sense together. Anyway, I never let him get wind of my feelings because he was taken. I could never cause them to break up. I mean, they are my closest friends in town."
"Are you really sure they are together? I mean, the whole thing looks somewhat fishy to me.Isn't she straight?"
"She is but he's out to her. Plus, I really do believe that he swings both ways like he's told me. I didn't at first but the more I see them together, I just can't help but think that there is no reason why this woman would want to be with him if he were just gay. And let's not forget, she is pretty hot and could get any man she wants."
"Be that as it may, women don't let their men wander far from their sight. Does she even know that he spent the night here?"
"No...I don't think so....I don't know"
"So what happened anyway between you two?"

He looked into the mirror and saw his palms rubbing his forehead.

"It was well past midnight by the time we finished watching his dvd.", he sighed. "It was Saturday night anyway so we chatted for a while before he glanced at his watch and contemplated making a move. I told him he should just spend the night here since it was starting to rain outside and she was away visiting her sister in Colorado anyway. He talked about having to wake up to go to church in the morning and I thought it made sense to just save time and have him sleep here."
"You wanted him to, didn't you?Admit it!"
"Yes!I DID!"
"What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't!", he spat out."I wasn't thinking, ok? All I knew was that we'd had a great evening as always and I did not want him to go.Not just yet."
He softened and his gaze fell.
"Well, he agreed to stay anyway. I offered him something comfortable to wear but he insisted on sleeping in his clothes. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth and when I got back, he had stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed. I was somewhat surprised but I didn't say anything. I climbed into bed and we chatted some more after I killed the lights. He suddenly remembered that he needed to set his morning alarm and I groaned in protest. "Sorry!",he chirped sweetly and reached over me for the bedside clock. I snatched it from his reach and hid it behind under my pillow. "Hey!", he exclaimed and dug his hands on either side to reach for the clock."
""Just go to bed! It's Sunday. Don't make me wake up to a morning alarm", I said.
"Give..that...to...me!I can't miss church". He was trying to pry my hands open and we were now rolling in bed as I tried to fend him off.He had gotten behind me and his arms were around me."
"We were giggling like silly boys. His fingers were on my hand and I felt my grip relax. My fingers unfurled and our palms met. I looked up to see his face. His eyes were closed and I felt his warm breath as he buried himself in the nape of my neck. "
"It was pleasure like I had never felt before. I don't know how to describe it. I felt like we were joined in every way and every nerve in my body was tingling with that realisation. My fingers dug into him like I couldn't hold him close enough. His lips started to caress me. I closed my eyes and let the insanity take over...."
"Wow, it's hot in here! Don't give me every disgusting detail,you skank!"
"Relax", he sighed. "I just needed to relive that moment for a second. Actually, it only lasted a moment."
"You didn't do anything more?"
"Our faces drew closer and his lips were on mine. It was the most perfect kiss I could have ever had. I felt myself grow weak his arms and I loved how he held me tightly. I suddenly peeled myself away and held his face.
"Wait!I can't do this. I think we should ...you know...I mean,what would...", I said.
"She say?",he finished my question."Relax. It's ok really. We sort of have an understanding. I told you she knows that I'm bisexual."
"That's not the point.", I countered.
"She also knows that I like you a lot."
"I knew that .."
"No, I mean that she knows I 'like' you. I've always found you to be pretty cute."
"You do?", my heart skipped a beat.
"Well yeah,heck you're cute and I've always told you I'm baffled that some guy hasn't snatched you away yet. The times when you used to tell me about your dates, I'd secretly be jealous. I've told her how I'd totally want to get together with you sometime. She'd be cool with that."
"What sort of 'understanding' do you guys have?"
"Well, early on, we figured out that we were always going to find other people attractive physically. I mean, I am bi and she's this sexually open woman!What else would you expect? We decided that we didn't need to let sex define our relationship. We were free to be with other people physically as long as we had each other for everything else. We also decided that we didn't need to involve the other person by telling them every single thing unless they asked about it. Sort of like a 'don't ask don't tell' thing. I don't know....does that make sense?"
"Don't ask don't tell? Are you really ok with that? I mean, you guys have no idea where the other person's been. And what if ..."
"I'm not saying it makes perfect sense. Really, it doesn't have to work for everyone. I mean, I am all for people living their lives and dealing with their relationships any way they want as long as it works. We just figured out that this works really well for us. Take sex out and it is much less frustrating or confusing.And it isn't like we are sleeping with the neighbourhood. I mean, I can't say for sure but I don't think we have really been with over 2-3 people in the past year.Of course, we're always safe in whatever we do. I know you probably didn't think we could be this way. Does it bother you?"
"I....no, it doesn't. I mean, well....maybe a little bit. Ok it does bother me. I mean, everyone thinks you are soo there for each other and..."
"We are. We just didn't want to let our sex lives be the thing that proves it. Trust me, she would not mind it one bit when she finds out. This is a lot better than meeting someone discreetly."
"I don't know...",I hesitated as he started to stroke my forehead.
"Can we just finish that kiss we started?", he drew closer again."Or are you not..."
"It's not about that. I LIKE you."
"Then what's the frickin problem?"
"NO!", I sat up."You don't understand. I like you. I mean, I really like you. At some point, I've always wanted you. I just didn't realise it at first but even after I did, there wasn't much I could do, was there?"
"You..what? I never had a clue!"
"Well, good for me,right? I didn't want you to know. Believe me, it was tough to keep it to myself. I mean, the times I used to see you two together..it killed me! I felt like I should have been the one who got to kiss you and hold you and fight with you."
"Shit!I ..I'm sorry!Are you sure you feel this way?I mean, maybe you've just been too lonely ?"
I shook my head."You're the person I want to take home and introduce to my folks!Every time something happens, you're the first person I wanted to tell. That one time when you guys were here to help me hang some pictures, we were arguing-you and me. She said we made a cute couple. You made some funny joke but I thought to myself, damn it we do make a couple. We should be together and we would be if she hadn't gotten you first!"
"Well, what's changed now? I mean, you still like me,right?Don't you want to see what this can be like now that we finally got together?It'd be pretty amazing,don't you think?And really, she wouldn't mind. Especially knowing that it is you..."
"It would be amazing.I know that. That one kiss alone left me shivering. If we got together tonight, it would make for one amazing night which I'd never forget. But I don't want just one amazing night. I can't just be a page in your secret black book of experiences even if you chose to share it with her. You guys might be happy with the arrangement you have and maybe it works for you. I can't say I have figured it out but I certainly can't be just another guy in your list. I like you far too much for that."
"I...I don't know what to say. I get what you're saying but ....", he struggled for words helplessly.
"It's not your fault. It's not like you made me feel this way on purpose. I couldn't stop myself from falling for you. I can't let myself fall down any further knowing that I am never going to be the one you come home to. I mean, I could never ask you to do that for me. I love her too much to be a home wrecker."
"No, I am not leaving her. I mean, we're very happy. But, God, I wish there was some way I could make you happy too!"
"You've given me more than what I could've expected. You're my best friend. You have no idea how much I bank on you for everything. Let me not spoil what we have. Believe me, if I had any shred of dignity or common sense left in me, I'd stop us from falling down a slippery slope that I could never climb out of even if she got you out."
"No, I'd never do something you weren't comfortable with. I really respect what you said. I just wish there was something I could do to make you feel better.I mean, I didn't realise I wanted you so much until tonight!The intensity took me by surprise but if this is something you don't want to do, I won't say or do a thing. I just worry, is this gonna be awkward now? Moving forward?"
"Maybe a little. We'll have to find out. We'll deal with it anyway. For now, let's just go to bed. I think we might feel better in the morning."
"Ok.You're right.", he sighed. "For whatever it is worth, I'm really sorry!You know I still care for you very much?"
"Yeah I do. And it is mutual. That part will never change...don't worry."
Leaning over, he kissed my forehead and whispered goodnight. "

****

"And you guys fell asleep?"
"Pretty much. Well, he did. It took me a while. I pretended to sleep but I couldn't.In some way, I wish we'd never had this moment. At least, I would have never found out what it felt like to kiss him. I mean, I could have imagined his body to be covered with warts or something! Honestly, I've never wanted someone so much and felt so terrible after getting them. It's like absolute joy and pain at the same time. Knocks me out.."
"I know. I know. But you know what you have to do. You know you're not going to give in.And you're also going to have to tell her.Well,someone has to. Just so I can be at peace. "
"I know.", he sighed."I'll figure that out later. Right now, I just want to sink into a blackhole somewhere."
"Go sink back into bed before you do something crazy. And watch what you say to both of them moving forward. You need to keep your emotions in check."

He slipped back into the bedroom and opened a window. A cool draft blew in and he felt ready to climb under the sheets again. He stretched his frame and glanced sideways to see his beautiful face one more time.
"I love you" he whispered.
He turned to his side and buried his face as the tears rolled into his pillow.

MAD tv - Bon Qui Qui at King Burger

2009-08-23T22:02:00.001-07:00

Ooh..don't laugh at Bon Qui Qui!
RUDE!

Bollywood Bachelorette

2009-04-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

Raakhi ka Swayamvar!

Oh there are so many things wrong with this ! It pains me and kills me to decide where I can begin! In particular, allow me to direct your attention (if you can peel your eyes away from the image of this sultry siren) to the videos posted on this site.

Miss Raakhi Sawant claims she is but the perfect combo of Miss India+Mother India as she gazes coyly and admits that she is now seeking a suitable patidev. Let him come from any corner of the earth! Riches dont matter but then, they dont hurt either! Above all, does he have it in him to sweep her off her feet?After all, she IS Raakhi!

Sigh...the irony....

Facing an open book

2009-04-15T23:41:00.001-07:00

As annoying as its applications can be, Facebook does tend to get people addicted to it. I don't care a rat's hinny if Joe Schmoe were to throw a sheep at Chuck Schmuck. Or for that matter, who really wanted to know what comments friends were writing off to one another. Are we trying to bare it all?

But I digress as always! There is one particular application on this obnoxious networking site which somehow amazes me everyday and leaves me wanting to see more. Here's what yesterday's Astrology Prediction application had to say for me:

It doesn't matter what your family thinks today, there are just too many romantic opportunities to pass up. You may find yourself involved with a partner that your family disapproves of but you'll enjoy yourself immensely if you allow yourself to follow your heart.

It is pretty eerie how the application tends to predict my state of mind even if it is off by a day or two.

Why am I sharing this here? Am I daring myself to go a little further every day?Or am I daring the people around me to come one step closer?Am I being reckless by throwing caution to the winds?Or have I finally found security to know that my faith is unshakeable?

I don't know. Ultimately, I just want to share.It is as simple as that. I am tired of the awkward "umms" and "aahs" as my feet shuffle. I am tired of that constant pining that eats me inside.We can all find anonymity online or in the real world to help us don masks, seek distance and hide our true selves. Ultimately, we still yearn to connect and share by throwing sheep,fending with chairs or blogging after midnight.

Today,supposedly things are brighter!

It will be an excellent day for partying, socializing and getting together with friends. Art, music, drama and dance are all good distractions. If you are single, it would be a major crime to sit in the house alone today. You could be missing a wonderful opportunity.

Superman and MakdiMati

2009-04-03T16:18:00.000-07:00

On an otherwise mundane Friday afternoon when time seemed to have stood still at work, Miss Kitty directed my attention to this scintillating video of a desi version of Superman and his Lady Love. Methinks barring Mukesh Khanna in ShaktiMaan, Govinda could not have been a better fit for a desi superhero needing to sport supersized briefs outside his pants (Nacho Libre meets Tantex!). Ah and clearly, that rocks the world of his premika-the svelte Spiderwoman (henceforth named MakdiMati)!

Points of observation:
1.As romance blossoms at 30,000 ft, the superhero couple surveys the scene in Bombay to ensure all's well. Robotic heritage is apparent from the way heads turn to sweep a 70-degree field of view. Who dares say that such superheroes arent from another planet?!
2."Tu mera superman! Tu meri lady!"....Superheroes prefer simplicity.
3.Always stay in shape and that means butt-workout in the middle of a disco-style duet.
4.Fun and dance is great but duty comes first!Place song on hold to rescue damsel in distress. Hunt for said damsel's spineless boyfriend and hand her in his charge before returning to song+dance.
5.Change locations every few minutes. No dearth of parks!
6.Quickly identify trendy party to crash, regardless of location. You are superheroes.You can get anywhere.
7.Make MakdiMati show some mast moves to ignite fantasies of common layman and sadak-chaap type log.

God bless the 80s.

For better or for worse...

2009-03-21T14:41:00.000-07:00

"This is so childish!", Sagar called out."I know you're in there. Why can't you just come out?"

He'd been standing outside for over 20 minutes and the heat wave was killing him. "Atleast let me in,dammit! I stay here any longer and I'm going to turn as dark as you!"

He knew that should do the trick. Eshwar hated it when people compared his complexion with Sagar's. Their oddities combined had ensured a friendship which has lasted several years. Sagar knew he could bank on that to take liberties at times and shower abuses at will.

Sure enough, that afternoon he heard a lock unlatch and Eshwar stuck his head out. "I'd gladly let you wait out here for the rest of the evening but I don't want your parents to pound on my door tonight when they see their darling prince sweaty. What do you want?"

"What do I want? You haven't been seen in a week!You stood me up for that stupid charity event I signed up to help your friend Ritika. We were counting on you to finish the Thermodynamics assignment due Tuesday.And you wanna know what I want? I want your ass roasted in this midday heat,that's what I want!Frickin moron!"

"Ok ok, stop yelling. It's bad enough that you're in my face trying to drag me out. Can't a guy go underground for a few days? Noo...Mr.Sagar has draw him out and drag him to every damn thing in his fancy life."

"You're lucky I do that in the first place. You wouldn't even have a life otherwise, you big fat hippo!"

"Screw you!I want you to apologise for saying that!"

"Apologise? Ok...I'm sorry you are fat!"

"Humph!I wonder where you come up with lines like that!"

"You know, I pull them right out of my ass!"

"No wonder they stink!"

"SCREW YOU!". But by this time, they were both laughing and they knew how much they had missed this camaraderie.

"So what's her name?", Sagar quipped."You wouldn't be in hiding for such a long time if it weren't for a girl who made you painfully shy."

"I can't talk about it this time. Not yet, atleast."

"Well at least tell me something about her! Have I seen her somewhere?How do you know her?"

"We hang out a lot. Pretty casual, you know.We just talk casually and it's fun."

"Hmm...so you guys are just friends?Nothing more?"

"I don't know. I'd like to take it further but I'm not sure."

"How long have you known her?"

"Oh .. off and on...a few months. Maybe more..."

"You weasel!You've known her for a few months and you haven't told me yet?"

"LOOK, I said I didn't want to talk about it.Let's just drop it, ok?"

"Whatever!If I'd been seeing a guy for a few months, we would have had an anniversary by now."

"If you'd been seeing a guy for a few months, it'd be snowing in Chennai considering you barely see a guy for 3 dates!"

They had been walking around the neighbourhood for a while and they stopped under a tree. Sagar spotted a man selling coconuts and he bought a large, raw coconut for himself. The water inside was warm but delicious in the midday heat. His head bent over, he sipped through a straw noisily.

"OK I'm sorry!", Eshwar spat out. The delivery made the apology quite unconvincing.

Sagar shrugged his shoulders and continued to empty the coconut, knowing the noise made by his straw was driving Eshwar mad.

"This person is really great. I just didn't want to jinx things up. I really care for our friendship and I don't want to end up losing that. That's why I've not made a big deal about this so far."

"That's fine. Whatever." Sagar was busy scraping tender coconut peels.

"And you're not the kind of tramp I said you were!Cut me some slack!"

Sagar glanced out of the corner of his eye.

"So why are you so hung up over this girl?Does she even have a name?"

"We just click,you know? I really enjoy hanging together with this person. We have a good time and we do a lot of fun things together."

"Think she feels the same way?"

"I don't know. I don't think so....I mean, how do you know for sure, right?"

"Well, sometimes you just can. You gotta watch for the signs. Girls are pretty expressive when it comes to that, you know"

"Yeah but..oh,forget it. It's complicated."

"There's an original line. No wonder even match-making sites have started to offer that as an option when you try to pick a status on your profile. What could be soo.."

"You don't get it!", Eshwar cut him short."Things aren't always the way you see them, ok?We all handle relationships differently and what's right for you doesn't work for everyone! You might be able share everything under the sun with your guy but that doesn't mean I can do the same with mine!"

Sagar looked away and took a deep breath.

"I thought I'd ask some friends about what I should do.So let me ask you this. Don't tell me what you yourself would do. Tell me what you'd do if you were me."

"Look, I mean...I don't know...I can't...that's not fair. You know I'm pretty opinionated about these things.", Sagar fished for words.

"It's ok.", Eshwar insisted."You're not going to be forcing me to do anything.I'm just curious to find out what you'd do in my shoes.I've talked to some people and they've had lots of thoughts.They aren't friends you might know. Sometimes it helps to get an outsider's perspective."

"Well, at the risk of being an outsider myself here, I guess I'd just gauge things based on body language first. I mean, if you are really unsure about telling this person and you want to test the waters first, you should probably read body language. People can't fake that. You just know when someone is trying to send you signals to take things further ahead. I don't know....what did your other friends say?"

"Well their opinions were all over the board.", Eshwar sighed."Some of them felt I shouldn't risk it 'coz they felt it was not going to go anywhere. But a lot of people said I should just follow my heart and go for it."

"Well, ordinarily I'd say the same thing but I really think you should take some time first and try to read the signs you are or aren't receiving. It might help prepare yourself if, I mean...you know."

It was now Eshwar's turn to look away.

"Look, I'm just watching out for you. I don't want you to risk everything and get hurt tomorrow."

"Umm...no that's fine. I understand.", Eshwar mumbled.

"If you still want to come clean, that's fine. Just be cautious and see the signs first,ok?"

"Yeah.I..I'll figure it out."

They had arrived back at Eshwar's house and the afternoon sun had cooled to an acceptable temperature.It was still very warm but the sunshine felt good.

"Ok, I'll have to go finish that Thermo-D assignment you were supposed to complete for us. The gang is meeting at Sunil's place in an hour."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't mean to ditch you guys.In fact,I'll try to.."

"Nah , that's ok", Sagar brushed his offer aside."We'll finish it but can you please get out of your depression? You could put a basset hound to shame."

"Oh just get lost!", Eshwar grinned. "I'll see you in class on Monday."

"Yeah, see you then."

Sagar walked out into the street punching digits on his cellphone and tripping over a small rock simultaneously.Eshwar watched him leave and sighed.

Silly fool! How dumb are you? I wish I could tell you that it is YOU!I can't even say that to your face. I don't know if you've figured things out.Nah, you probably haven't. But why did keep harping about signs?Are you trying to tell me something?I wish I knew! Wish I had the guts but I love you too much to do this. Isn't that ironic? I love you too much to tell you!

Sagar reached the corner of the street and turned around. Eshwar was standing at his doorstep, leaning on the wall casually. He waved and Sagar waved back before he disappeared around the corner.

Poor Eshwar! I feel so terrible! I can't believe you've had feelings for me!ME! I mean,when did you even know? I thought you were always straight! You've always been my straight man-friend. I just couldn't see you any other way and I couldn't even tell you that I knew. I couldn't jump to that unless you had mentioned it. I hope you were smart enough to figure out what I was trying to tell you.

Don't make me give you an answer by opening your heart to me. I can't do this to you. I know how sensitive you are. I'd hate to be the one rejecting you but I can't wish myself to be the guy you want me to be either. That's not fair,is it? And you were putting me in such a tough spot!I wanted to hint at my answer but I also wanted to be your friend and tell you the right thing to do.

Don't make me pick sides,Eshwar!

The pursuit of happiness

2009-03-05T16:55:00.000-08:00

I finally finished reading "The Geography of Bliss" earlier today. I must say that I have a love-hate relationship with this book. There are parts where I loved the author's words, parts where I hated them and parts where I loved to hate what he had to say.

In a nutshell, the author hitherto known as the 'Sully Scribe' and decidedly proud to claim himself to be eternally depressed/unhappy, now intends to explore the 7 continents , traverse distant seas and scale peaks to locate the places in the world where people are happiest in general. The romantic expedition has all the trappings of adventures accompanied by epiphanies and revelations one dreams to realise at some point in one's otherwise dreary life. Strangely, as I bore deeper and deeper into this book, I had to acknowledge a growing sense of resentment...no, restlessness is the right word. SS probably tried to fight this same feeling before deciding to quell it by setting off on his journey. As much as I'd love to follow his lead, I don't have an inexhaustible source of wealth, the amount of vacation time or the comforting cheer from family (wonder how excited his wife was about this idea) to go country-hopping for months. The result is aggravated restlessness which needed to be addressed swiftly before my flaky witless alter-ego took over and executed some crazy decisions ("Mr.Manager?I QUIT!That's right.I'm off to HappyLand!")

The Sully Scribe heads to Holland which houses a 'Happiness Institute' (dedicated to the study of happiness) in ironically bleak buildings. Clutching a list of countries which lead the world in claiming to have happy residents, SS visits over 12 countries and spends time talking to their citizens from all walks of life and strata in society. The effort is well-appreciated and just when you near the end of every chapter anticipating a profound truth from that culture, the author wraps it up with a succint 360-degree perspective about what makes that country tick(or not tick) without actually describing how that relates to his quest. The observations he makes about people in a country far outnumber the reasons he quotes to explain why his quest does not end there. Nor does he completely clarify another interesting question. What would he do once he locates Utopia?Relocate with his family?Return to America and spread the good word?

After reading several accounts of his travels in Qatar,Thailand,Iceland and other lands, it seems highly unlikely that our dear SS would ever feel completely at peace in any one place. The book progressively gave me the feeling that he was making the same mistake millions of people do the world over (and have been doing for centuries)-striving for active change to ensure happiness. People change homes,change jobs,change partners,change lifestyles and even change themselves all the while hoping that there has to be something better out there that they're missing out on. Change itself is not a bad thing but change in pursuit of a better good needs to be coupled with good reasoning. What is this better good that we try to strive for? A new home? More luxuries?A better relationship?Can that change really ensure the longevity of that better good?

After sailing the seven seas, our dejected SS returns home and talks to several people from his home city of Miami who decided to move to Asheville NC. "Is this home?", he asked them after seeing how happy they were with the move. "It is for now.."

The book does a great job of describing people and their way of life. Does the author find what he's looking for? Probably not. When he returns to America, you expect him to sit back and sigh, "Home is where the heart is". I doubt he has decided to end his quest in Miami or anywhere in America.

Hinduism does a noble job of addressing this issue to a considerable extent. The things which have the potential to make us happy (sukham) or unhappy (dukkham) are not ultimately powerful enough to sustain. These are fleeting changes in the expanse of a lifetime and they are more aptly defined as pleasures and displeasures. Pleasure can be a source of endless joy for some people and pleasure can be disturbing for many depending on that source. Regardless, pleasure is not happiness-what we call bliss(anandam).

When we make changes to our lives, we tend to focus on sukham more than anandam-immediate pleasure over lasting bliss. This might be a subconscious decision which we happen to realise much later. If we are to attain bliss (and ofcourse that isn't easy), we need to awaken to the realisation that one goal cannot exist in the presence of another. Bliss doesnt come through a steady source of pleasure.Nor can the quest for pleasure deliver something blissful. We aren't perfect beings and so we make our choices and remain 'content'.

The Vedas also decry the purpose of desire. Desire develops an attraction which lends itself to a fixation and eventually an obsession. This obsession plagues our mind, and rids us of our intellect. What hope do we have left after the complete loss of our senses? While this makes perfect sense, how does one tackle the pursuit of happiness? The scriptures encourage us to seek bliss (ananda not sukha) and unite with Brahman, the universal spirit. How then does one deal with the desire to attain bliss? We could heed to the words of the Gita and perform our duties with no expectation of their fruits whatsoever. Does that still justify the presence of this desire anyway? I have no further answers and if you do, please tell me.

Another reason why this book got me restless is because I have always struggled to come up with my own definition of 'happiness'. I now understand the difference between pleasure and bliss and while I certainly haven't uncovered the secret to a blissful existence (for me), I am unable to define what could even come close.

One time in 7th grade, we were asked to use a pin-up chart and come up with answers to the question, "What makes you happy?". Today I can tell you what makes me joyful, feel content, feel at ease,feel pleased and even feel pleasured. When I know my family is safe, I am content.When I know people love and care for me, I am comforted. When I see or do an act of kindness, I feel good or rewarded. But I still don't know what makes me happy.

Do you?

What's love got to do with it ?

2009-02-21T12:08:00.000-08:00

A playwright introduced me to a wonderful collection of poems from several cultures. The compositions were mostly from the middle ages (6th-13h centuries) and they celebrated love in its most passionate,decadent and at times unbearably painful forms. The romances took me to soaring heights, literally, as I flew across the country in the middle of the night to visit dear friends in Chicago who coincidentally had gotten married recently. Fatigue took over but fingers protested as I had to give form to my own thoughts on the subject. Here's an ode to love...

Lady Love

A temptress, you tease with sly smile

Scores approach, their arms you cradle

Brazen whore!How easy you slip in blinks!

No mercy for my naive heart

That soars and sighs in sweet suspense

From afar you exude yet ne'er you approach

And still lame fool only wonders

Such pain persists in mere solitude

How infinitely worse must be

The tragedy of separation...

The next morn...

The first rays fell on supple skin

Warming my form bursting with life

Why now does fresh air smell sweeter

Wherefrom this intoxication

Inching into my every spore,I inhale in hunger

His hold tightens and I exhale

Encaged in arms engaged

A dove,in his sky I soar

Morning bliss

For here you are

Eight winters left me benumbed

The warmth, that glow my skin once shone

Now mere trace of flame

Fighting for life

Come finally,the spring of destiny

Tis been far too long,my love

Your face I've seen only in dreams

I doubt no les you're anything but

The sum of all my aspirations

The heart awaits, its rhythm paused

Mirage

Should anything dare to stand brave

Face you in a test of sheer beauty

Can only be this moment I dream

When we unite after many winters

At last! That dawn now arrives

Resplendent, the joy of a thousand mornings

But what be this?Your beauty dims!

Words smite and gestures ignore

Eight million winters I could have endured

Alas! This be the dusk of a thousand mournings

Classic dance sequences from Indian cinema

2009-02-08T00:45:00.000-08:00

For the sheer wealth of talent which I am about to comment upon, I shall refrain from resorting to cynicism in this one post alone! The universe is well aware of my relentless criticism of poorly made movies,particularly from Bollywood or mainstream Indian cinema. My biggest peeve lies with the poor standards of lyrics employed by popular foot-tapping numbers in recent years. On the flip side, I derive a lot of pleasure in appreciating the choreography of a song which has been superbly crafted to match that song's musical excellence. Indian cinema today cannot really claim to boast of fantastic dancers of the calibre which actresses used to possess several decades ago. Yes,we do have Madhuri Dixit (God knows we hope she'll never stop dancing!) but in past years, we have seen some amazing women (and some men) enthrall audiences with their moves, classical for the most part. Here are some of my favourite numbers which showcase actors in Indian cinema for their talent in dance. They DEFINITELY are not arranged in any particular order as I cannot compare their talents and rank them.

1.Waheeda Rahman in "Piya tose naina laage re" (Guide)

I could try to suitably describe the magic that R.D Burman's music creates with Shailendra's lyrics especially when Lata renders it in her own style but as unforgettable as the music can be, it would be impossible to remember this song without Waheeda's graceful dance. If you are really curious to find out more about this number, click on the "more info" link found in the video link above. The description does justice to the video which I cannot hope to reword.

2.Vyjayanthimala in "Honthon pe aisi baat"(Jewel Thief)

Feast your eyes on Vyjayanthi's myriad expressions as she prances around the hall to entertain the prince and his court in Nepal while danger lurks everywhere. This is one phenomenally talented dancer, the likes of which we haven't seen since.

3.Kumari Kamala in "Abhinayangal.."(Konjum Salangai)

Bharatnatyam is probably the oldest form of classical dance in the world today and this song is a glowing tribute to its many nuances. Kumari Kamala does apt justice by bringing out the 5 'jathis' in the taalam(beat). The acts of creating portraits through the course of their dances may be an exaggeration but I would easily believe that such feats were(and are) possible by skilled students of this South Indian dance form.

4.Shobana in "Oru murai vandhu paarthaiya"(Manichitrathaazhu)

As a newly wedded wife who identifies with an alternate personality (that of a courtesan),Shobana etched this role to such perfection that the original Malayalam movie(featuring a Tamil song) was later remade in Kannada,Tamil,Telugu and Hindi. Shobana is an accomplished Bharatnatyam dancer herself and this song has been treasured by her fans as one of her best dances in Indian cinema. The jerky opening moves give way to refinement when she transports herself back in time to relive the romance she once had.

5.Helen in "Piya tu ab to aaja"(Caravaan)

Time to pay our tribute to the grand old dame of Indian cabaret songs. I'd love to pick a whole bunch of songs by Helen to bring out her versatility but this one's probably the most famous. Check out how infectious her energy is!

6.Madhuri Dixit in "Maar Dala"(Devdas)

Oh come now, can this compilation be complete without the lady with a million-dollar smile? In "Devdas", Madhuri plays a courtesan dancer who patiently waits to get her affections reciprocated by a dejected lover. In this song, she accepts a challenge testing to prove her faith in the lover's arrival at her chambers.

7.Madhubala in "Pyar kiya to darna kya"(Mughal-e-Azam)

Nine years in the making, this movie broke all box-office records in India when it was released in 1960. The film tells the tragic love story between the Mughal emperor Jahangir and a dancer,Anarkali. Madhubala was irreplaceable in this role and one can't help but wonder at the striking resemblance between today's Madhuri and yesteryear's Madhubala. You have to check out some trivia related to this song and the movie itself!

8.Rekha in "Dil cheez kya hai"(Umrao Jaan)

Rekha turned legendary after the runaway success of this movie. Her simple gestures and emotions prove that a terrific dancer can charm you from right where she is seated. The beauty of these lyrics add to her rich expressions.

9. Karishma Kapoor and Madhuri Dixit in "Dance of Envy"(Dil to pagal hai)

Jealous of the new girl on the scene, Karishma's character gives Madhuri Dixit a run for her money in this dance-off.We all know Mads can dance but the lovely KK is no less and clearly...kitty has claws!

10.Vyjayanthimala and Padmini in "Kannum kannum"(Vanjikottai Valiban)

Ah, but if you want to see a real dance-off, step aside ladies! No duo can come close to Padmini and Vyjayanthimala as they match wit,charm,poise and grace in this legendary song. now both actresses were accomplished Bharatnatyam dancers in their time and it was impossible to decide who should be allowed to win the contest. Enter Gemini Ganesan to the rescue who saves the day when he realises that things are getting beyond control. I wish I could post the English translation of the entire Tamil song but that'd make this post way too long! Just know that the lyrics to this classic are as beautiful as the dancers who give them form.

Vyjayanthimala and Helen in "Muqabla humse na karo"(Prince):Bonus!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jQmgcsRE44

Well!I couldn't really do justice to my obsession with Vyjayanthimala without including this one last number which pits her against cabaret queen, Helen. It's a sheer pleasure to watch them showcase so many dance forms in this number from "Prince".

Dawning

2009-01-18T00:18:00.000-08:00

12.24AM.

I just got home after watching "Slumdog Millionaire", the new movie featuring a rags-to-riches story of a boy who grows up in the slums of Mumbai. While an objective review of the film could take me several hours, I must honestly admit that my first thoughts might get tainted with impulsive indignation about the poor light in which the city of Mumbai and the people of India are graphically portrayed. For those reasons, I'll refrain from attempting a review. I cannot criticize the director for being so brutal with his camera. Nor can I sigh in exasperation when a western audience gasps in horror at the sight of stark poverty, the likes of which they either do not see in their countries or choose not to. Life is what it is and things in India are the way they are. A million things contribute to their functioning and you really cannot expect to understand it unless you have lived in their midst. I can neither make accusations nor offer explanations since I am one of several million Indians who are aware of this economic disparity but do little more than comment in a safe environment or make a small donation to a non-profit organisation they might trust.

But I digress. What I can comment about is in fact something more lucid and indeed sublime. The patriot in me often ignites in argument,protest and rage whenever my country and its people are cast in an unattractive light. I am learning to acknowledge that as much as I pride in my heritage, I cannot deny the existence of a plethora of problems which gain intensity mostly due to inaction. Thus it happened that I adopted restraint in the movie theatre when people around me turned away or let out soft cries when harsh scenes of wretched poverty burned in front of them. However, the same audience watched the movie for the story of a young boy, not for an education about cosmopolitan Indian living. They cried when he pined for his love just as much as they cried when he was beaten on the streets. When the movie ended, a soft applause broke out to celebrate the portrayal of a human story that transcends social differences, economic disparity and religious intolerance. That moment somehow triggered me to remind myself that we are indeed all human, no matter how trite that sounds. We want and need the same things in life, although they might be on different scales. And while prejudices may always exist between societies, they cannot prevail for long when individuals connect instead.

The other thing I noticed tonight was a truth more fleeting and definitely, more personal. There is a scene in the movie where Jamaal, the protagonist, is on his way to the game show which might make or break his destiny. Stuck in a traffic jam, Jamaal looks out of the window of the car and is momentarily bewildered when a woman recognizes him on the street. Cheering him on his success, she exclaims,"Go win the jackpot, my son! May you have my blessings!".

To me, this scene alone was powerful enough to pack everything that is about Indian culture in a few seconds of cinema. The chaotic traffic surrounding Jamaal reflects a complex amalgam of differences that thrives in Indian culture. The differences scream out much like the horns of vehicles which blare incessantly. A layman on the street walks on indifferently, weaving his way through this mess just as millions of Indians deal with the vagaries of life they are all too familiar with. It takes a person to get into a bubble in this chaos and observe what surrounds him to understand the bigger picture. Jamaal's bewilderment mainly arises because this is the first time he has been able to step out of his world and experience something more. Recognition for him has always brought pain or abuse. For the first time, he is recognized in fame. For a moment, he forgets about his nondescript existence and observes the functioning of the masses. For me, it took a journey away from home to pause and ponder the same way.

The revelation turned more poignant for me when the woman called out to Jamaal and blessed him with luck. The simple sequence plucked my heart's strings as I thought about all of my parents' friends and even other strangers who automatically became my 'uncles' and 'aunties', old ladies who became 'grandmas' and men a few years older who became 'brothers'. A certain oneness exists between us as we acknowledge friends and acquaintances as family members do. The warmth that I felt when I heard this woman call to Jamaal as her son is a feeling I can never hope to describe perfectly but fully expect other Indians to understand. I don't mean to trivialise the beauty of human emotions in western cultures but this is a sublime emotion which I have so far experienced only in India or with other Indians. To me, the scene was powerful enough to make me yearn for my own mother and marvel at the unshakeable faith she has in my prosperity (as any mother would have for her child). When I speak to her over the phone and reveal that I am battling a cold or getting depressed at work, she tells me my troubles will vanish for she will pray for me. They might not, at least not the very next day. But hearing her say those words is immensely healing. And trite or not, the heart pines to hear such words of comfort from those dear to it.

To this day, when people bless me as they'd bless their own children, I am humbled and struck by the power in this parental instinct which forms emotional bonds in the absence of biological ties. So powerful is this emotion that it made me rush to my computer and battle with words to try convey it in the wee hours of the morn. So powerful was this scene in the movie that it will forever evoke a tear for me every time I watch it again, much like it did tonight.

...."For in the dew of little things, the heart finds its mornings and is refreshed."

2.00am

Truth be told...

2009-01-13T21:08:00.000-08:00

Nikhil paused his typing to look up and catch sight of him. Tarun was every bit as handsome as Nikhil had hoped he wouldnt be. Concealing tinges of lust and other emotions, Nikhil dropped his head to focus on the typing and steal glances without being too obvious. Tarun was chatting up with the baristas as he ordered a drink to go.Success hadn't been served to Tarun on a silver platter.Atleast, that's what the tabloids had to say. Graduating with top honours from the University of Madras,he had opted to work for the state's ruling party instead of taking a more convenient and lucrative opportunity to head west and seek his fortune in law school. The decision paid off in due course of time and at 33, Tarun was one of the youngest persons to enjoy the distinction of serving the Chief Minister in his team of advisors. It wasnt just his age which set him apart. Tarun brought a refreshing perspective to politics hitherto governed by conservative players. He never ceased to question why or accept compromise. The media celebrated his success and had already touted him to be one of the youngest successors to occupy the country's highest chair.

That day, his sudden presence in the coffeeshop hadn't gone unnoticed.Whispers started to float around and pretty soon people started to crowd around him. Nikhil peeped out the window to peer into the posh Beamer which purred by the sidewalk. Instantly he turned back and chided himself for his cheap curiosity. He had promised himself that he'd never resort to such fanaticism, even on the low side. Not in this case atleast.

"Do you think he's really gay?I don't believe that! It'd be such a shame!"whispered a girl at the next table.

"I don't really know. I read somewhere that he once had a girlfriend and that she might be suing him soon.", her friend hissed.

"Well I for one don't believe it. I'm sure some trashy magazine started that rumour to create gossip. Some lucky chick must have nailed him somehow.These yuppies always find a chick.Can you imagine what a fantastic wedding that could make for?I wonder if its going to happen soon!"

"It's not!", blurted Nikhil.

"Who told you?", the girls looked in his direction.

"I just know he isnt getting married.I know that for a fact."

"Bullshit!What are you?His best friend or beer buddy?"

"He is seeing someone. But there definitely isnt going to be a wedding."

"You know who he's seeing?"

"Yeah, uh...someone I know". Nikhil wondered why the word 'friend' didn't come out easily.

"What's her name?Come on!"

"His name.",Nikhil corrected," And I'm not going to tell you. Leave them alone."

He shut down his laptop and packed his stuff hurriedly. The girls were now snickering and giggling animatedly. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a pair of teenage girls gossipping about a gay romance. Walking out of the coffeeshop, Nikhil's thoughts returned to the estrangement he had subconsciously acknowledged. He was surprised that his mind had chosen to stick to the truth even though it hardly made a difference to the girls how Nikhil knew Tarun's boyfriend.

He strolled into a mall and tried to lose himself in a sea of faces. The drone helped him zone out and focus his thoughts in an unusual silence. It was this same mall where Rishi had met him to talk about his first breakup. Nikhil remembered the bench they'd sat upon when Rishi sighed in frustration at the end of a 4 year relationship. The chaat-stand they stopped at where Nikhil bought him some pani-puri and stuffed them in his face to bring a smile, the fountain where Rishi had claimed Nikhil to be his best friend, the parking level where he had hugged him tight before saying goodbye-Nikhil cursed his memory for remembering every minute detail of their friendship including all of their outings,conversations,moments of frivolity and goodbye hugs.

Sauntering over to a familiar table,Nikhil sat down and toyed with his earphones distractedly. He didn't notice a mass of bags occupy the seat across him and jumped up with a start when a voiced popped "Boo!".

"Priya!Jackass!"

"You were a sitting duck really. If I didn't know better, I'd love to make you feel more miserable right now, moron!", chirped Priya. She was one of Nikhil's closest friends and confidante."What's with the long face? I've seen basset hounds look more cheerful."

"Nah, just lost in thought."

"Good, keep 'em to yourself. Nothing works better!"

"Y'know, there's a free lecture tonight at the local community college about getting in touch with your female sensitivity. You should attend that.Maybe they can help you find where you lost yours."

"That's ok, Nix.You probably picked it up right where I tried to lose it!"

"Oh screw you.."

"So hey, I ran into Tarun Raghavan at Mocha Joe's nearby. Handsome man ! I'm gonna let him know that my evenings are wide open for him!"

"Yeah right. And they arent the only things about you that are wide open either!"

"Shut up!Anyways, isn't he seeing Rishi? I thought the two of them were something of an item now.How's Rishi, by the way? What's he upto?"

"No clue. You probably see Rishi more frequently than I do"

"That's weird. I thought you guys were like really close", Priya commented absentmindedly as she flipped through a menu.

"We were.But we hardly see each other these days. He must have forgotten me. " muttered Nikhil.

"Maybe you just pulled his leg too much. You can be pretty nasty sometimes.Ooh its been ages since I've had dahi vada. I am so gonna go for that right now!". Her attention had shifted to the menu.

"Definitely not the case. That fellow's hide is thicker than a buffalo's!"

Priya shrugged and started to flip through a magazine after placing her order with a waiter.

"He's just that sort of person, you know? Kinda flakey. Latches onto someone before he finds someone else.", Nikhil continued.

"Haven't you guys been friends for almost 2 years now?"

Nikhil felt his ears turn red and warm up. He felt ashamed for sounding petty.

Rishi could be very flakey and Nikhil's patience typically wore out with flakes very quickly. He preferred suave to silly.But it was this particular imperfection which Nikhil found endearing with the charmer.In Rishi,he found it easier to deal with things in a laidback manner, something Rishi had perfected.

"Yeah I know. It's not like we had an argument or something. He just gets distracted easily. I mean, look at his boyfriends. First there was Milind, Mayor of Flake city! Then there was the philosophy major who couldnt stop complaining about the world.And Chetan, the silly twit who could lose to a 5th grade student in an IQ test! "

"Why do you care so much?If he wants to date jerks,let him! That's his problem."

"I don't have a problem!", Nikhil spat out."I just feel sorry that he has to waste time with such guys.I mean, it shouldn't take more than 1 date to figure out that none of them really have what it can take for Rishi to enter into a relationship."

"Including Tarun?", Priya quizzed.

"Why not?I mean, it cant be easy dating someone so famous."

"They've been together for several weeks now , right ? Give him some credit. Maybe he has learnt to be smarter. And anyways, why are you so hell-bent on quickly spotting something which these guys lack?". Her eyes narrowed in curiosity.

"I just...I mean, I'm only trying to watch out for him.", Nikhil flustered.

"You sure about that? Seems like someone might be a tad jealous..."

The realisation bothered him.He was never one to openly admit a fascination for another person and he certainly had no intention of letting Priya find out about..

"You know you can never have him."

"Huh?"

"Tarun. If you're jealous of Rishi because he's dating Tarun, get over it. You're never going to get that lucky. He's wayyy out of your league!"

"You know its amazing I actually bother to even seek your advice!" Nikhil spat out. His pulse was racing.

"Oh come on, I see through you. You criticise Rishi every time he starts to date someone.Secretly you're happy when he breaks up soon and it's not some platonic bullshit about you wanting something better for Rishi. You just cant stand him finding someone and settling down before you do so yourself. And Rishi being in a relation reminds you that you're still single and alone. And after a string of losers, Rishi has found someone so awesome that your jealousy is getting the better of you. Grow up, ok?"

"You're out of your mind!",Nikhil bellowed. "You think I am jealous of him? He can date a movie star for all I care."

"Look Nix,I don't know why you're single. You're a prize package and any guy would be lucky to have you.I know you didn't expect me to tell you that but I do believe it and I'll only admit it on occasion. But you need to learn to be a bigger person here. You cannot let your own feelings of self-pity turn into spite this way. And Rishi is a good friend, for God's sake! You think he'd feel this way about you if you were dating Tarun instead?"

Nikhil buried his face in his hands."Maybe he wouldn't. But then who knows what he'd feel. I can't remember the last time we hung out. He probably wouldn't care if I were to date someone famous...". It was petty but it felt good to say it.

"What a baby! Cheer up and go find a date for yourself. And stop sulking,will you?You could put off a drunk guy this way!"

"Oh go stalk someone!", Nikhil muttered and stretched out.

"Anyways, I gotta run. Prithvi wants to go see a movie. Wanna join?"

"Nah you go on. I'll hang out here for a bit. Clear my head..."

"Call me if you change your mind. I'll see you later then.."

Priya hurried off leaving Nikhil at the table, confused, irritated and slightly guilty.

He knew he should have been more supportive. As flakey as Rishi could be, he had always sworn his affection to Nikhil, ready to take the blame and apologise whenever he screwed up as a friend. Nikhil also realised that a lot of his frustration came from his own impatience with Rishi-that he never learnt from his mistakes...in their relationship as well as in Rishi's love life. He should learn to control it and be a better friend,he decided. Priya was right.He needed to become a bigger person.

But why couldn't Rishi see things clearly?Why did he have to jump from bed to bed, carrying pieces of broken heart everywhere? It bothered Nikhil that his frustration was getting the better of him. It bothered him even more to realise that the frustration completely concealed something Priya had almost hit upon,but not quite.

With resignation,he looked down at the scribble his car key had made on the table and he hugged himself tightly.

It hurts so much,Rishi....hurts so much.

The way I see it....

2009-01-09T14:18:00.000-08:00

fart=fancy snooty art
obnoxious=rudely get in your way and knock you over
symphony=singing pretentiously
ridiculous=group asking to be made fun of
idea=Drunk Australian proudly claiming to have 'scored'
style=fancy waiting rows for pigs

folly=person on a downward journey (usually painful)

dynamite=something you might die from

mermaid=listening device to pick up soft conversation

ipod=treatment facility for people with low self-esteem

laptop=petite escort

juicy=firm affiliation to Israel

radish=almost cool (will be in a few days!)

supper=1.teenager ; 2.bouncer at a bar

xenophobia=fear of the alphabet ending in "x"

For Auld Lang Syne

2009-01-05T17:07:00.000-08:00

As I shut the door after the last of my guests had departed,I turned around to wade through party hats,confetti and balloons to sink into my couch and stretch. The evening had turned out to be more fun than I'd expected it to. With a sigh of exhaustion,I realised that this was the beginning of yet another year, yet another collection of stories for my journal, yet another endless string of lonely nights, moments of exhilaration, possible triumphs,probably heartbreaks and infinite expectations.

Somehow, it seems like several years have passed in the last 365 days. I have learnt to be more independent than I have ever been in the past.I have made new friends, lost out on some old ones, made mistakes, felt pain and pride. My travels took me to the ends of the continent from icy slopes to alligator-infested waters. My confidence in my professional capability has soared even though prospects themselves have ebbed beyond belief.

Above all, I have come to realise that I am now ever so closer to that moment I once dreaded but now am excited about. It will not be easy but it will have to be done. The wait has made me a stronger person who will not cower to pressure or yield to guilt. Every day I have learnt to be true to myself and expose that truth to the ones who truly love and care for me.

I have not completely conquered my fears and perhaps that won't be such a bad thing. I have been fortunate enough to meet the kind of people this past year who have vowed to be there for me when the time comes and shoulder me in the aftermath. I am touched that they are anxiously waiting to hear from me when the time comes.

There are moments when people promise to be there for one another. In time, the intensity of their promise wears away and is replaced by the awkwardness of reconnection. Sincere words disappear and trite expressions save the day."I know! It's been ages!","Yes we must do lunch soon!""Definitely,we'll visit you guys soon".

But when friends make promises and check with you frequently to find out when they can be there for you, those are the moments you should treasure and revel in the joy of knowing that you are loved unconditionally.

Fortunately for me, these were the people who were present with me to ring in the new year.

Probably my most important one ever....

Miss you,friend...

2008-12-12T13:16:00.000-08:00

I clutched my hemp haversack tightly and held it close to my chest. The shirt I wore that day was pretty blah and on any other day, I wouldn't have dared to be seen in public wearing such an unimpressive piece of clothing lacking style or finish. But on that day, I was ready to sacrifice style for the safety of anonymity. If I could just get through the day without anyone trying to engage me in conversation...

"Are you waiting for the SVCE bus too?"

I turned around to see a tall boy. His father was on a scooter a few feet away. The boy was dressed in a white shirt brighter than the sun. An obscenely large silver belt buckle flashed at his waist and the ensemble was completed by a pair of brand new sneaker shoes.

"Uh..yes I am.", I replied.

This guy was dressed to get royally raped, I decided. What was he thinking?

"Oh good.I'm Vadivel. They said the bus should be here by 8.30AM."

"I'm Vikram. Yeah,that's what they told me too"

In a few minutes, a particularly unattractive yellow bus rumbled along. The sign in front read "27 Mambalam". Here goes,I said to myself as I got on board.

The bus was fairly full and I was happy to find an empty 3-seater in the first few rows. I love occupying the window seat in any journey. After a couple of stops,Sharada boarded the bus in K.K.Nagar. Seeing a cheerful friendly face was reassuring that this wasn't going to be the most humiliating day in my life.

Four stops later, an attractive boy got into the bus. He was tall and looked strong. He was dressed conservatively in a checked shirt and nondescript jeans. He stopped to talk to a girl sitting a few seats away from me.He then surveyed the scene and noticed that the seats next to me were unoccupied.

"Can I sit here?"

"Yeah sure",I replied and got my bag out of the way.

We didn't say a word to each other for the rest of the journey. Later that morning,I found out that he was in my class. I was too preoccupied trying to maintain a low profile to bother striking a conversation with him.

I'd attended the same school for 16 years and I'd grown comfortable within that well,never needing to step outside and 'fit' into new circles. This was my first day in college and I'd heard enough stories about seniors 'ragging' incoming juniors to make me want to get through the day unnoticed. And who really knew if your own classmates were any better or different!

Over the course of the next few weeks, that boy sat with me regularly and eventually we formed a fun group of friends who took the same bus every day, occupying 2 rows of seats to spend journeys playing charades, music games, sharing gossip or cracking jokes so inane you'd think we were high on dope! It worked just as well that we were all in the same class. The laughter never stopped in batch "D".

After freshman year (or 'first year' as we call it), the bunch of us never got to take classes together as a group. Daily jaunts then became more precious since those were the only times we could forget the miseries we endured in our respective disciplines or bitch about them passionately.

As the years rolled on, our friendship was cemented by laughter,tears,fights and apologies. I sensed a unique connection with each of these people and I was thankful that I'd never have to pick favourites. I couldn't possibly.

The aforementioned boy became one of my closest friends as life let me discover eventually. His temper and blunt attitude masked a sensitive side he didn't always expose. His success and good luck was congratulated and often envied. He was the only one to call me on my behaviour and eccentricities. I hated his guts but that's what made me grow to like him more. He could hurt my feelings in a second but he was just as capable of punching someone else who did the same thing. I remember the day I showed him an insensitive message I'd received from a project partner regarding a difference in opinion. My friend turned so livid that he leaned back to yell in anger at the project mate who was caught off-guard.

I'll never forget that moment.

It has been 10 years since the day I first met that boy.

This morning I filtered through my mail as I gobbled breakfast. I paused to see a thick golden envelope. The decoration was ornate and an image of Ganesha beamed over the letters

"Sai Koppaka weds Sandhya Kanury".

How time flies...

Wings over my wind

2008-11-23T20:14:00.000-08:00

Last night,Musicman invited me to join him at Anka gallery in Old Town. A group of people had been taking classes in "Process painting" and they were 'sharing' their work in a spacious gallery-the sort of open space where aficionados stand rooted to their spots lost in contemplation while the uninterested shift edgily,wondering how much time one spends looking at a work of art from various angles. To be honest, I didn't know anything about process painting until last night. One of the artists there explained to us that the form is all about putting emotions to paper in a continuous, unchanelled fashion where figures,shapes and colours aren't picked for a reason. In other words, you just let your creativity flow sans objective, aim or direction. Pretty soon, the creation begins to direct you instead. The experience is more about the journey than the destination itself.

What is the destination then, I asked. If you are putting expressions down on paper without any specific direction or vision, how do you know you're done with your work? Apparently, you don't on several occasions. It is a tough decision to figure out when you need to stop. The easiest way is when your creative source has been exhausted and you don't continue to feel that urge to keep painting.

If that sounded lofty to you, it seemed improbable to a cynic like me when the lady explained all this to us. The artists encourage visitors to pick up brushes themselves and explore their creative side for a few minutes. It was this attraction which made me resist the temptation to dismiss this method as yet another hoity-toity art jargon. After spending a few minutes examining several pictures (I won't share my honest opinion here since the artists insist you neither commend nor criticize one of their works), I felt the urge to don an apron and reach for a palette.

Musicman and I started working on 2 sheets of paper pinned to a wall. I felt a familiar rush as I reached for the tub of black paint. I could see it in my head. The idea excited me in the same way I favour my composition or craft project as soon as I have completed it. I am not unreceptive to criticism or comments (seemingly hard to believe given the title of this blog) but in some slight measure, I like to give myself a little bit of uncompromising credit for conceiving any idea.

My fingers flew across paper as rapid brush strokes filled up almost every spot with the idea bubbling in my head. Occasionally, I'd glance across at Musicman to find his brush casually caressing paper with soft curves, free-flowing forms and ultimately an attractive amalgam of colours. After almost 30 minutes (didn't seem that long), I stepped back to examine my effort in temporary satisfaction. More form needed to be included, white spaces to be filled and features to be detailed. But what lay in front of my eyes was quite satisfactory in no small measure.

In a flash, my bubble burst and with resignation, I informed Musicman that I was ready to go. Locating a funky coffeeshop a few doors away, we sat down with cups of chai to discuss the experience. Talking it out helped me put words to that bubble burst.

When I picked up my brush, I hadn't opened a door to my surge of expression. I had desperately tried to give form to a vision in my head, granted that vision germinated during the first few minutes I'd spent in the gallery. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, how I wanted to say it. When I put down my brush, it wasn't because I had depleted that creative source. It was because I knew I couldn't complete my work (a word the other artists actually don't encourage you to use) at that time. I also knew that I had filled up enough space on my paper to prevent another artist from continuing to express on my sheet (an idea these artists actually encourage, since the idea is about expression,not ownership). In every possible way, I had flouted the basic principle behind process painting.

And that was simply because I couldn't let go.

I like to think of myself as a creative person. But truthfully, it is channeled creativity that I actually possess, possibly due to my cultural upbringing. Eastern cultures almost unanimously insist on striving for stability from cradle to career. That stability almost readily comes from the next rung on an infinite ladder. Competition is so fierce that switching ladders or staying put on any rung aren't viable options. The need to succeed drives parents to egg their children to outperform their peers and strive for the goals they themselves couldn't achieve. I read somewhere that no parent wants their child to lead the exact same standard of life they had to lead. The aspiration is admirable indeed but the repercussion is equally damaging. Teenage suicide resulting from unsatisfactory academic performance (not failing) is probably the worst fruit this egging has resulted in. While this happens on a smaller scale (but happens nevertheless), the majority of children grow up with their parents' vision ingrained in their head, their own dreams either nipped in the bud or compromised with regret. One of the greatest tragedies in our lives has to be the continuation of our existence without an evolution of the self. When some of these individuals find themselves living and/or working in a western society, the discovery of tremendous opportunity is overwhelming and liberating to the point where it restores the self-confidence they had once lost to follow their dream.

Western cultures celebrate the idea of the self almost to the point of glorification. The development of the self and the idea of respecting personal space is of such prime importance that it is self-evident at every stage in life-letting babies sleep separately, assigning children to their own rooms with individual beds, allowing high school students to pick their electives, encouraging college freshmen to explore their interests before picking a major, urging working singles to date frequently and engage in relationships before ultimately identifying 'the one', relocating to a different city or country to experience a change, changing careers or quitting work to follow a dream. The consequence, in my opinion, is that people tend to be so focused on achieving what they want, they lose sight of a bigger picture. They spend hours trying to thread memories and experiences to explain why they are the way they are, where they have come in life and what it means to be in that position. A vast majority of them are constantly besotted with the dilemma as to why they aren't happy ever. In an ironic fashion, some of them decide to examine eastern faiths to understand the nature of the self and its purpose in this world.

I hasten to mention here that I do not wish to condemn or criticize any one faith or culture. I am perfectly happy and in many ways extremely grateful for the wonderful upbringing my family was able to provide for me. It has taken me this long to pause and understand what essentially defines me. While I am all for the idea of people discovering and pursuing what they truly believe in, I must honestly admit that I have grown to enjoy a good bit of control and stability in any undertaking. I find its absence very unsettling and the idea of relinquishing it absolutely impossible.

"I just don't know why I wasn't able to let go. I couldnt let my mind wander when I needed to pick shapes and colours. I knew I wanted orange right next to blue.I knew it'd bother me too much if I'd picked purple instead.I might be judging myself too much but I can't stop judging.Maybe it's not that I couldn't let go. Maybe I didnt want to let go..".The words gushed out of my mouth as Musicman stared directly into my eyes in that coffeeshop.

"I think you just said it there yourself. You can let go....you just don't want to.", he replied quietly.

Perhaps it is best that I stay this way. My behaviour might appear to be neurotic and in some ways obsessive-compulsive (talk to my friends!), but atleast I am now aware of who I am, what makes me happy and why I do the things I do.

I might have failed in process painting but I learnt a truth that day which was just as personal to me as the realisations every other artist has discovered in this class.

In a different light

2008-10-28T16:09:00.000-07:00

At precisely 1pm, I trudged along the concrete walkway to the cafeteria as irritated geese honked at my disturbance. The day was no different from a thousand others I'd spent here. And yet, my fingers felt cold and clammy. I knew I was about to do the right thing.Then why did I feel so uncertain about it? A surge of envy took me by surprise as I looked at busy heads around me-walking towards the cafeteria,walking back to work,huddled in gossip or staring seriously at the ground. In an immature way that we often feel but seldom share, I wanted to become one of them. I wanted to shake off this bravado which clung to me and return to my mundane existence.

I waited in line at the soup station to pick up yet another cup of the daily selection-the same choice paired with a bread roll overpriced for its size. There stood the lady I loved to hate. I didn't know her name.I had never had a conversation with her ever before. I knew nothing about her job. Nor could I explain why I was so fixated on this baseless prejudice. All I knew about her was what she presented to the world every day between 1 and 2pm at the cafeteria. A picture of immaculate poise and grace. She maintained perfect posture when she occupied a seat at the table by the window.She spread her food,water,book and reading glasses on a tray and carried them in a way that made the engineers around her look like slobs as they tried to stuff food cartons into their gym bags. She had never worn the same outfit twice in the 12 months that I had been noticing her. Her outfits wove a fine thread of class with subtle hints of style,fun, professionalism and adventure and they seemed to reflect the many moods she might possess every day as her emerald eyes concentrated on her hard-bound book.

Bubbling malicious thoughts were momentarily curbed by an approaching figure which I spotted from the corner of my eye. He was a handsome young man and he strolled in a manner which befitted his relaxed persona. I knew everything about him, just about. I knew his name was Jake and that he worked as a writer. I knew he had a girlfriend,Megan, who enjoyed having him accompany her to cooking classes. I had heard stories about his brother in Albuquerque, his student years in Vermont, his adventures on a cross-country trip and his plans for the future. Infact, I felt like I knew more things about him than he ever realized.

"Good workout,Jake?"
"Hey,how's it going? Yeah not a bad workout!",he replied.

He didn't know my name. I knew he didnt because he had never ever asked me. Nor had he ever tried to introduce me to another person who might have been around. And yet, he'd talk to me about everything under the sun.

"I wanted to head out of work early today" he continued. "Meg wants to go to this poetry reading tonight. I don't really care for it but we kinda had a bad fight last night so I'm trying to be the nice boyfriend!", he grinned.

"Oh thats a good idea", I said. You dont know my name!

Paying for my lunch,I walked back outside to an area where several tables sat unoccupied. The sun was out today but the air was nippy. I flipped my book open as I tasted a spoonful of soup. I knew I wasn't going to finish reading it in time for our book discussion group's meeting. I was about to put my spoon down when I jerked my hand away in surprise. A tiny spider, small but ugly nevertheless, crawled from under the book to the paper napkin I had spread out for my spoon.

I love all animals, well almost all of them. I dont have a huge tolerance for insects and frogs. And I particularly hate bugs. I wasn't going to kill this one but I didn't need him disturbing my lunchtime reading either. The chauvinist in me assumes that any intruder from the animal kingdom typically tends to be a male,unless examined closely.Taking a deep breath in, I blew directly into his face, picturing myself to be a massive giant wreaking havoc on a hapless soul. I didn't want to crush him to death but I wanted to give him enough of a chance to survive a windy gale.I felt no remorse.

As my lungs gave out, I was surprised to see him rooted to the spot. He paused for a few seconds and then continued to scurry cautiously across the napkin as if bombs might explode under his feet any instant. My amusement turned into irritation. I wasn't going to let a bug humble me. Taking another deep breath, I blew from the rear so that he might get taken by surprise. My shoulders slouched in exhaustion. He was still there.

Pushing him with the edge of the napkin, I tried to force him off the side of the table. Had it been any other bug, I wouldn't have thought twice about flicking him away. But the sight of the ugly spider trying to climb over the moving napkin hurt my eyes even as my fingers moved without conscience.

I pushed him off the edge a few times and he came crawling right back. The feeling of guilt was overpowering and my uncharacteristic nature chilled me. My own imperfections are my darkest secrets and I'd sooner join the rest of the world in denying them rather than acknowledge their existence.

I wanted to put an end to my ordeal. I waited for a few moments as the spider's legs moved cautiously. I wanted him to be caught unaware. Summoning one last deep breath, I blew strongly at his many legs. He struggled to maintain his balance but his legs gave way and he vanished into the air.

I leaned over to check if he had fallen on my slacks. The last thing I wanted today was a thin trail of spider goo staining my crisp cream slacks. My eyes fell out in amazement.

Curled into a tiny speck of a ball, the spider was elevating himself as his front legs worked furiosuly to pull his body up a strand of his saliva which remained suspended from the edge of the table. After he gained strength, he positioned himself and swiftly rose to the edge of the table once again. Pausing for a few moments, possibly to regain his composure, he proceeded to scurry across a paper desert and finally sink into a small crevice on the surface of the table.

I stared at the crevice in shock, wonder, amusement and finally in shame. I looked around to see if spectators had been witnessing this sadistic torture. There wasn't a soul in sight although I was pretty certain Miss Perfection sitting at her table indoors would have judged me with her cold green eyes.

I closed my book and gulped down my soup as quickly as I could. I wanted to get away. Scurrying back to my office, I locked myself inside and sat behind my desk, staring into my computer lost in thought.

Finally, I pulled open my drawer and opened a file. I retrieved my resignation letter and tossed it into the shredder.

Breaking down Bollywood songs...

2008-10-22T20:51:00.000-07:00

Ladeez end gentelmen

My name is Professor Shayari BandMaster.

Welcome one, welcome all to "Breaking down Bollywood songs - an Intro to understanding popular Indian movie songs through the ages"! Now a lot of you American ignoramuses might dismiss off bollywood songs to be crazy potpourri of gaudy costumes, hip thrusts and smoke bombs. Nothing could be farther away from the truth and it is my moral responsibility to present the Indian film industry in proper light.

Now in Hollywood movies (where hero heroine remove clothes in middle of movie and do dirty things without shame), sound tracks are fitted to suit only certain scenes (wherever director says) and win Oscar awards. This is complete disrespect to music profession in opinion of Indian music directors. We feels that the songs are the backbones of the movie , like the skeleton. Therefore, it is essential to build skeleton first and then build body.

Any movie in Bollywood MUST essentially contain the following types of songs (minimum 1 each) for box office success. For each type, I will illustrate with one example to show how proper lyrics should be written.

1.Hero's intro - mixing with college students (20-30) or village folk/city folk(hero 30+)
Hero is always man of masses.Hero introduces himself as best of best men. Sometimes hero also tries to pass cultural value message through intro-song to remind us all about Indian values which are foundation of all movies.

Eg:Anil Kapoor in "My name is Lakhan"(Ram Lakhan)

Ey ji Hey you!
Oh ji Yeah you!
Ey ji Oh ji Lo ji sunoji Hey you,yeah you,look,listen to me!
Main hoon manmoji I'm everyone's favourite here
Karta hoon main jo woh tum bhi karoji Just do whatever I do
1 2 ka 4....4 2 ka 1 I'll make 4 out of 1 and 2....and 1 out of 4 and 2 (oooh!)
My name is Lakhan My name is Lakhan
My name is Lakhan My name is Lakhan
Sajjanon ka sajan,mera naam hai lakhan The best of them all,my name is Lakhan

Then again,sometimes hero not so dashing-smashing. Tries hard to find love.

Eg:Sharman Joshi and Sahil Khan in "Excuse me!Kya re?"(Style)

Excuse me, kya re? Excuse me. Yes, What is it?
Mera dil tere pe fida re My heart crazy about you
Bus stop pe dekha tujhe pehli baar Saw you at the bus stop the first time
Jhatke se ho gaya tere se pyar Fell in love when bus slammed brakes
Bolta hoon main sacchi baat I speak the truth
Samajhna isko bakwaas kya? Not rubbish, ok?

Excuse me ? Haan bol na ! Excuse me. Yes, tell me!
Main pehle se shaadi shuda re! I'm already married!

2.Heroine's intro - in garden (for sweet rich girl image), waterfall(for Mandakini image) or Ooty hills(for pahadi type image)
Goodygirl heroine is like safebox where you store jewels. Once open and available for public display, it , sorry she, might get looted and robbed of family prestige. Therefore, please protect your girl child like flower.

Eg:Venkatesh and Karishma in "Phoolon sa chehra tera"(Anari)

Phoolon sa chehra tera Like beautiful flowers your face is
Kaliyon si muskaan hai Like buds your smile is
Rang tera dekh ke, roop tera dekh ke Looking at your complexion and form
Khudrat bhi hairaan hai Even God is shocked

3.Teasing song(boy teases girl or vice versa)
Boy and girl are like fire and firecracker. Chemistry happens with explosion and dishum-dishum first. So first we have playful fights between lovers, then lovers realise they'd rather spend time loving instead of fighting. Such a beautiful truth there is! Let us all do the same!

Eg:Govinda and Karishma in "Ik hai anaar yahan"(Dulaara)

(Please do not start controversy about song resembling American pop song. That music star says his shirt is sexy.Govinda ji says his pant is sexy first. Infact,even his rumaal is sexy!)

Ik hai anaar yahan kitne beemaar yahan One pomegranate here but so many sick girls
yeh dil main kis kis ko doon? How many people can I give my heart to?
Har ik ladki mujhpe hai marti Every girl falling for me
Main sab ke dil mein rahoon They all want me to live in their hearts
Kyuni Mere pant bhi sexy 'Coz my pant is sexy(only pant not pants)
Meri shirt bhi sexy My shirt is also sexy
Mere baal bhi sexy All my hairs are sexy
Meri chaal bhi sexy My walking style is sexy
Yeh rumaal bhi sexy hai! Look!Even this scarf I wear is sexy(not girly on a tough guy like me!)

4.Duet 1(fantasy - before hero heroine say I LOVE YOU)

Even though boy teased her, girl is not able to resist boy's charms.Therefore she puts up icy exterior to prevent his advances but secretly she is sending out pheramones to let him know that he is right up her saree,sorry alley (if you pay close attention, Govindaji mentions this in previous song!). At this time, either girl fantasises about duet or boy fantasises. The location should ideally be Ooty hills with 12-24 or 36 dancers (all female).Please pick celestial damsel costumes(Urvashi Taylors) for back-up dancers. Smoke bombs can help add colour to scene.

Eg: Anilji and Loloji in the movie "Andaz"

(yes yes I know that all examples seem to have Loloji but what to do, she is mast Punjabi kudi perfect for these songs!)

Dil ka panchi bole kuku kuku Bird in my heart says kuku kuku

Sanson ki bansi bole kuku kuku Flute in my breath says kuku kuku

Tera bhi dil bole kuku kuku Your heart also says kuku kuku

Mera bhi dil bole kuku kuku My heart also says kuku kuku

Mujhko pasand tere kuku kuku I like your kuku kuku!

Tujhko pasand mere kuku kuku You like my kuku kuku!

Jo tha khwab mein,hai woh saamne What I dreamt of is now in front of me

Roz karenge ham kuku kuku ku ku ku ku Now daily we can do kuku kuku !!

Boy handles initial butterflies in different way. Boy wants to celebrate with his loafer-friends who are quite the poets. They compares the love feeling to wonderful disease!

Eg:Shah Rukh Khan and Juhi Chawla in "Loveria Hua"(Raju ban gaya gentleman)

Kya hua, ise kya hua? What's happened to him?
Doston yeh ise kya hua? Friends,what has happened to him?
Iska to baj gaya baaja This guy is done for!
Yeh kya hua?Arre re kya hua? What happened to him?Oh what happened to him?
Sardi khansi na malaria hua Not a fever,cold or malaria
Yeh gaya yaaron isko This guy's done 'coz he has caught
Loveria hua!Loveria hua!Loveria hua! Loveria!Loveria!Loveria

In some cases, hero is so smitten he wants to enjoy the feelings in garden setting.

Eg:Noname in "Jab se hui mohabbat"(Pyaasi Raat)

Jab se hui mohabbat Since I fell in love
Kal ki nahin fursat No peace of mind
Kabhi unke khwabon mein Sometimes lost in dreams of her
Kabhi unke khayalon mein Sometimes lost in thoughts of her

5.Duet 2(fantasy - after hero heroine say I LOVE YOU)
All Bollywood movies are about love-love for one another, love for parents,love for children,love to kill,love to steal,love to die,love for animals,love to dance etc. Therefore it is necessary to have lots of love songs, especially in second half of movie (incase people forget story during intermission).

Eg:Shashi Kapoor and Mumtaz in "Phool ban jaoonga"(Pyar kiye ja)

Phool ban jaoonga sharth yeh hai magar I'll become a pansy only if ...sorry,a flower only if
Apne zulfon mein mujhko saja leejiye You promise to let me adorn your hair
Khwab ban jaaongi sharth yeh hai magar I'll become a dream only if
Apne aankhon mein mujhko basa leejiye You promise to nest me in your eyes

Please note wonderful director ji's-touch where Shashi Kapoor grants Mumtaz's request when he wears Rayban glasses reflecting her image.

6.Duet 3(reality - identity song in case one of them cheats later or is missing)
Love is blind. We Indians realise this very early in movie making. That is why sometimes the hero forgets the premika or vice versa. For jolting memory, it is necessary for them to learn a song together in cases of mistaken identity(very popular theme!).

Eg:Shammi Kapoor and Saira Banu in "Ehsaan hoga tera mujhpar"(Junglee)

Ehsaan tera hoga mujhpar You'll be doing me a favour
Dil chahta hai woh kehne do If you can just tell me what your heart wants to say
Mujhe tumse mohabbat ho gayi hai I'm in love with you
Mujhe palkon ki chaaon mein rehne do Let me stay in the shade of your eyes

Version 1: Boy singing (makes lofty promises)

Version 2:Girl singing (boy shocked by girl's lookalike and rebuffs her but girl's attitude is 'never give up!')

7.Family song(can be changed into Mother-son song if needed)
Family ! Family ! Family ! We CANNOT stress importance of family in Indian movies. Family always sticks together and nothing unites them like a family song. This will help as identity in future if children are separated or if they have gotten corrupted by modern culture. Parents can use family-song to set them straight!Best example I can think of combines lesson in English with lesson in music and quick 5-minute video tour of Indian tourist spots. Value for money !

Eg:Family number in "Hum Saath Saath Hain"

ABCDEFGHI ABCDEFGHI
JLKM JLKM
NOPQRST UVWX NOPQRST UVWX
YZ YZ
I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU!

8.Philosophy song(after either hero or heroine go through pain to learn meaning of life)
Now Now life is not always song, dance, teasing,joking. Lovers need to understand that they need to get tested the hard way. Chee Chee no, not STD testing. In Indian movies lovers dont do dirty business. But lovers do need to face hardship because there is no such thing called free love. The lessons learnt will serve to educate the silly romantics who waste afternoons thinking love is easy. Please appreciate multi-purpose lessons learnt through Bollywood movies.

Eg:Taariq and Kaajal Kiran in "Kya hua tera waada"(Hum Kisi se Kam nahin)

Kya hua tera waada What happened to your promise?
Woh kasam woh iraada Your promise and your intentions?
Bhoolega dil jis din tumhe The day my heart forgets you
Woh din zindagi ka aakhri din hoga Should best be the day I die

Please note poor lover doesnt get angry even though childhood sweetheart cant recognize him. Instead he takes frustration on guitar-ish device and lets childhood memories torment her. Effective strategy!

9.Devotional song(in case God has to rescue their love through miracle)
But not everything can be left to fate of lovers.Sometimes fate has to be moved in right direction. And only faith in God can change faith, as has been repeatedly insisted in our Bollywood movies. Praying to God is absolute must. That's why our villages are named Rampur while our heroes are usually Ramu (heroines Sita or Gita). And remember, devotional songs aren't always for lovers !

Eg:Akshay Kumar and Baddy girl Rekha in "Maa Sherawaliye"(Khiladiyon ka Khiladi)

Maa Sherawaliye Mother riding tiger
Tera sher aa gaya Your tiger has now arrived !
Apne khoon se nehlane To bathe you with his blood (ouch!)
Tera beta aa gaya Your son has now arrived !

Please pay attention to over-acting by Akshayji since Rekha madam's evil designs are driving him crazy!

10.Cabaret song/Item song(gangsters anthem when heroine is captive)
With devotional song, hero has double confidence and double shakti to face any obstacle. Alas,What a tragedy!Villainji has kidnapped innocent damsel heroine. She must be rescued by hook or by crook. Usually plot is complicated by including stolen diamonds or lost family relative resurfacing in gang. While hero tries to figure out how to solve these problems, villain's goondas are busy getting entertained by sultry vixen. Vixen is all about the fun things in life, after all, there has to be some perk to being the bad guy and dressing up in awful clothes!

Eg:Helenji and Parveen Babi in "Koi aaya aane bhi de"(Kala Sona)

Koi aaya aane bhi de If someone has joined, let them join
Koi gaya jaane bhi de If someone has left, let them leave
La La La Tujhko toh hai masti mein jeena You know how to live life
Jee le! So go ahead and enjoy!

Caution!Sometimes the chudail just might turn out to be the gatekeeper with a heart of gold so dont dismiss her as woman of bad character!

11.Warning song(when hero uses dancing distraction to make strike on gangsters)
Now hero knows where premika is trapped. He has to rescue her but needs distraction.Sometimes baddy girls can help if they have change of heart. She entertains gangsters while trying to mix secret message in her words. What a responsible temptress!

Variation:Hero can disguise himself and try to save damsel. Even pencil-line moustache can do.Gangsters are super-dumb for a reason!!!

Eg:Rajesh Khanna and Mumtaz in "Roti"

Naach meri bulbul ki paisa milega Dance, my bulbul, so that we can make some money!
Kahaan kadardaan hamen aisa milega Where will we find such a donor?
Ghungroo banaake paaon mein baandhke I'll make anklets for your feet
Kahan meherbaan hamen aisa milega Where will we find such kindness?

12.Happy song(all's well that end's well)

No matter what evil hero-heroine face, everything always ends on positive note (unless public demands tragedy where they die like Romeo-Juliet). In the end, we need to remind people about power of love which converts bad people to good people and villains to friends. Ending song also lets public walk out of movie theatre on happy note and singing nice song.Happy Happy Everyone Happy!!!

Eg:Entire cast in (Pyar,Ishq aur Mohabbat)

Yahan wahan idhar udhar dono taraf aag hai lagi Here there both sides there is passion's fire
Dono taraf pyaas hai jagi Both sides thirst is there

Dono taraf ek jaisa haal Both sides same condition

Dono taraf dil hai beqaraar Both sides hearts are restless

Isi ko to kehte hain pyaar This is what they call love

Above was basic minimum song-set for success formula. For better luck at box office, bollywood gurus insist on including one or several numbers of the following types. Please remember, between over-drama and under-drama, always go for over-drama!

1. Fun and game song(for kids)
Teaching the family values to the young ones in fun way is the prime importance in the Indian culture. Please watch little boys cajole granny here.

Eg:Lalita Pawar in "Gharana"

Dadi Amma Dadi Amma maan jao Grandma Grandma don't be mad
Chodoji yeh gussa zara hanske dikhao Drop this anger and smile a little
Dadi Amma Dadi Amma maan jao Grandma Grandma don't be mad

2. Wedding song(guaranteed hit)
No Indian movie can be hit without shaadi-scene. Spend lots of money on bridal dress. Seat groom on horse and cover his face with flowers so that he can walk unawares into marriage. Indian wedding is where bride's family has to say tata to innocent flower raised in love and care as she steps into house of in-laws to become kitchen-slave. Please release waterworks for girl's dad, girl's mom,girl's siblings, girl's kabootar and all the 100 extras hired for the bidaii scene.

Eg:Renuka Shahane, Reema Lagoo,Alok Nath, Madhuri Dixit and half of Greater Mumbai in "Hum Aapke Hain Koun"

Babul jo tune sikhaya Hey Dad, whatever you taught me
Jo tumse paya Whatever you've given me so far
Sajan ghar le chali I'm taking everything to my hubby's place
Yaadon ke lekar saaye Taking images of memories
Chali ghar paraye I'm off to a new house
Tumhari Laadli Your lil girl, Mommy!

3. Separation song(when lovers separate from each other or from family)
Parents never approve any kind of romance between boy and girl. Afterall, they didnt get a chance to date when they were young!Why let these kids enjoy? Pain of separation is so bad that girl has no idea about the things she is breaking or setting on fire. Boy meanwhile decides he will sing sad song in endless desert or on top of cliff so whole world can hear him. But ultimately,only girl knows how to steal show. She might drink poison or cut herself so that we forget about joker in desert and focus on her frail form instead!

Eg:Salman Khan and Ayshwarya Rai in "Tadap Tadap"(Hum dil de chuke sanam)

Tadap tadap ke is dil Suffering suffering heart is
Se aah nikalti rahe Gasping "aah" on and on
Mujhko sazaa di pyaar ki You gave me punishment of love
To aisa kya gunaah kiya What crime I did?
To lut gaye...lut gaye All lost ..all lost
Lut gaye hum teri mohabbat mein All lost in your love!

4. Tragedy song(when life hits you hard)

When Lady Luck isn't kind to you, only thing to do is put pain into poetry. Sometimes she gives you shitty deal like Raj Kapoor got in following example.

Eg:Raj Kapoor in "Dost Dost na raha"(Sangam)

Dost dost na raha A friend didn't turn out to be a friend
Pyar pyar na raha My love didn't turn out to be my love either
Zindagi hamein tera Life, I have lost faith in you
Aitbaar na raha, aitbaar na raha Lost faith in you

Please make sure actors tend to over-act.Every cheek muscle and facial expression is important. Sometimes it helps for boy and girl to cry. Also make head turn for every word or every line in song. That shows how words can pierce like dagger.

5. Motivation song(for fighting spirit)

Ok now all actors finish crying. What to do ? We fight! That is life's lesson...unless movie makes more money by killing off hero/heroine in tragedy drama (make note!). But life is never over....that is moral we exploit in Bollywood cinema. Pick heart-moving motivation song and if that doesnt work, go for reincarnation to bring back all new supershakti hero/heroine.

Eg: Nargis in "Duniya mein hum aaye to"(Mother India)

Duniya mein hum aaye to jeena hi padega Lets face it, we're in this world...so we gotta live!
Jeevan hai agar zeher to peena hi padega Life's a crappy bottle of poison, so drink up!
Gir gir ke museebat mein sanbhalte hi rahenge We stumble on obstacles but pull ourselves up
Jal jal gaye magar aag pe chalte hi rahenge We might get burnt but we tread on fire anyway
Gham jisne diye hain wahi gham door karega The One who gave us these sorrows will take 'em away soon

Please note,ladeez end gentelmen...in this song, motivation is exhibited by ideal woman like Nargis-she is the 50-50 of Miss India+Mother India.

6. Foreign Location song
Average Indian cannot afford to visit the Europe and the America.So Indian moviemakers become genius. They shoot one duet song in foreign location to show handsome hero+beautiful heroine dancing in lovely London,nice nice New York, beautiful Belgium and other places. Even better to get local kudis to dance with our superstars. Colourful costumes and sportscars look great in such songs. Hero can wear fluorescent green suit while heroine HAS to wear tight skirt or chiffon saree(even if it is in Alaska). Please note that audience wont care for lyrics in such songs. Just add some crap about "khoob","mehboob","dil","mast","jaaneman","dhadkan" and other rhyming words.

Eg:KamalHassan and Manisha Koirala in "Telephone dhun mein"(Hindustani)

Telephone dhun mein hasne wali You laugh like telephone ringtone
Melbourne machli machalne wali Exciting Melbourne fish
Digital mein sur hai taraasha Your voice is like Dolby Digital
Madonna hai ya Natasha Are you Madonna or Natasha?
Zaakhir Hussain tabla tu hai kya? Are you Zaakhir Hussain's tabla
Sona Sona tera chamke roop salona Goldy Goldy your complexion is all golden
Sona Sona cellular phone tum to hona Goldy Goldy you are my cellphone!
Computer ko lekar Brahma ne rachaya kya? Did Brahma use a Mac to create you?

7.Patriotic song (we love India)
But please remember, no foreign country is equal to our India!Long live Mother India! All desh-bhakti songs must have hero-heroine in traditional clothes. Please have heroine prance like little deer.That is true Indian beauty. Hero should be man of masses or try to show Indianness in any environment.

In following example, we combines the Indianness with the partyness.

Eg:Salman Khan in "India is the best"(Judwaa)

Yahaan ki ladki wah wah Girls here wow wow
Badan pe sari wah wah Sari on body wow wow
Maathe pe bindiya wah wah Bindi on forehead wow wow
Kaanon mein bali wah wah Earrings on ears wow wow
Pairon mein payal wah wah Anklets on feet wow wow
Honthon pe laali wah wah Redness of lips wow wow
Hai bholi bhali wah wah Very innocent wow wow
Hai sharmili wah wah Very coy wow wow

Saare jahan se acha Better than all the nations in the world
Hindustan hamara Is our India
Hum bulbulein hain iski We are tied to this land
Yeh gulsitan hamara This is our paradise

East or West East or West
India is the best! India is the best!

Deliverance

2008-10-22T12:19:00.000-07:00

Fletcher stared into his pale reflection as he scrubbed his hands vigorously. This wasn't his first time but that familiar, unpleasant feeling was back in his stomach. He noticed beads of perspiration form on his forehead and he splashed cold sterile water to steady himself. "It's not going to take long, 20 minutes tops and I'm out", he muttered to himself. And this time, the condemned wasn't someone he already knew. Anonymity made the task easier, as small mercies went.

Changing into his uniform and reaching the chamber, Fletcher found some orderlies topping off bottles of saline solutions and laying out IV needles on a stainless steel tray. A large heavyset man was strapped to a gurney.The veins on his arm were popping out from the pressure but strangely, he had a placid look on his face. His eyes reflected a composure Fletcher struggled to own himself. They locked into Fletcher's and followed his every move.

"You doin' ok?", Fletcher asked as he scanned some stats on a clipboard.
"How am I supposed to answer that?", grunted the man as his eyes narrowed.
"This won't take long. You probably won't even feel it."
"Probably? Gee that's great, isn't it? Except I won't be able to 'thank you' later. Maybe I should do it now..."

Fletcher felt strangely uncomfortable as the man's eyes followed heart monitors being placed on his chest. Typically he masked his anxiety by avoiding small talk but this man was able to read his face.
"Tell me, you like doing what you do here? That make your ol'man proud?", prodded the prisoner.
Fletcher's fingers clenched when he heard the man mention his dad. Nothing would have ever made his dad proud of him, not that it mattered anyway. When he was 7, Fletcher's dad had killed his mother in a fit of drunk rage. Then he had turned the gun on Fletcher and reached for the trigger just as Fletcher's brother swung a baseball bat to his head. As his father collapsed in a pool of blood, his brother had run away when police sirens screamed in the night after frantic neighbours made calls. Through the course of a single,dark night, Fletcher had lost his family. Since then, he had been trying to lose their memories for 23 years.

As much as he hated to admit it, the terror he witnessed had goaded him to eventually fight back in a way he had never managed to do that night. The tens of thousands of children living in fear every day, never sure if their own parents could one day kill them in rage....the people who had given their everything only to be treated like slaves...the women mutilated beyond recognition after they had been ravaged without mercy...he wanted to fight back for them all. The fury he felt each day was never appeased by the degenerate he put away doing what he did. And deep inside, he knew that he still lived in fear himself; a fear he had tried to suppress by donning the garbs of an executioner.

"It's really none of your business", he muttered back.
"Oh no? It's your business to put me to sleep but not my business to question it? Kinda unfair there,wot? Who decides you can do that anyway?"
Fletcher gritted his teeth as his palms started to sweat inside their gloves.
I wouldn't be here if assholes like you didn't have to be put away,he said to himself.
"Feel like a hero,huh? Throw the bad guys in the doghouse .. kill 'em if you can! You feel like a hero strappin' me to this table,you wimp?"
You probably aren't gettin' half of what you deserve, so why dont you just shut your fuckin' mouth before I seal it tight?
"You figure I deserve this huh? I do a favour and wipe off a bunch of perverts and you think I deserve this? I kill those sick rat bastards and you kill me instead. What makes you the bigger guy?"
Who the heck do you think you are ? Friggin Batman? Fletcher was seething.
"The doc figures I got a screw loose upstairs. What excuse you got?", spat out the giant.
"Just shut the fuck up!" yelled Fletcher as he picked up a needle and felt the man's right arm strapped to the gurney. He didn't wince as the needle punctured a thick vein.

Breathing heavily,Fletcher walked to the other side of the gurney and tried to repeat the procedure with another needle.

"Ya wake up every mornin an' kill people like yer God? That make you feel good? You ain't no different...yer just as sick as the rest of us. How do ya sleep at night? How do ya?", the man muttered as his gaze grew intense.

Rage and guilt swept through Fletcher. The man had asked him the same questions which had tortured him over the past year. He thought he had made his peace with it but he knew he'd been lying to himself all along. The syringe in his hand twitched as his hand trembled. If looks could kill, he knew that he should have dropped dead by now.

It took some pressure to puncture. One iota too much. Fletcher felt the needle go in deeper than it typically should. His toes curled and he tried not to reveal his horror.

Turning around to make sure that the tubes were securely connected to the IV drips behind the wall, Fletcher signaled an orderly to start the flow of saline solution. The screens surrounding the chamber lifted at the warden's signal and Fletcher sighed in relief when he noticed there was no family to witness the procedure.

He walked behind the wall and turned a small plastic valve on a bottle of sodium thiopental connected to the IV. The anesthetic was meant to induce unconsciousness so that the individual felt no pain during the process. Fletcher hoped and prayed his tiny mistake would get washed away, thanking his good luck that doctors weren't allowed until after the procedure. But the jab had gone too far,puncturing a sheath of muscle. And the cool liquid flowed freely into the man's bloodstream, failing to render him unconscious. He must have sensed this as his eyes arched back to question a strange sensation.

Screw it, the bastard deserves it anyway.Fletcher started the flow of pavulon to paralyse his muscles. The pancuronium bromide however wasn't a sedative really and the man suffocated as he felt his veins being set on fire. The agony was invisible to Fletcher and the warden since his body was completely paralyzed to the point where his breathing stopped. Finally, Fletcher started the flow of potassium chloride and a few seconds later the man's heart stopped beating.

The procedure hadn't taken over 30 minutes. To Fletcher, it seemed to be a lifetime. While the orderlies removed needles and unfastened straps on the gurney, he quickly filled out some information for the coroner's examination. The last thing he wanted to do was stick around any longer than needed. After draining out the bottles of solutions he had just used, he deposited paraphernalia into a tray filled with warm saline solution and proceeded to change out of his gown.

As he stepped outside into the hallway to sign out, Dr.Sterns brushed past him into the changing room.

"Evening, doctor"
"How did it go?"
"Quick and smooth. 4 minutes 30 to cardiac arrest."
"You're new here. Where's Jim?"
"Broke his leg yesterday. Had to sub for him at the last minute."
"Yikes,hope he's doin ok. What's your name?"
"Travis sir."Fletcher replied
"Good to meet you,Travis. Have a good night now."

Sterns changed into his gown and proceeded into the chamber to examine the man on the gurney. Things seemed to look fine. He examined the man's arms where the IVs had been inserted. A nasty feeling gnawed his mind as his eyes swept across the man's arms. He withdrew with a feeling of unease as he jotted some notes for the post-mortem examination.

Turning in his certificate to the warden, Sterns drove home lost in thought. His wife had fallen asleep on the kitchen table as he stepped in. The noise awakened her and she went over to fetch his case.

"How did it go?"
"Ok,I guess. Something didn't seem right."
"What do you mean?"
"A young tyke put the needle in tonight. Jim broke his leg. I'm not sure if the rookie did a good job. I'll have to wait for the PM report."
"Don't lose your sleep over it.Let's go to bed."
"There was one other thing. When I examined him, I found an old picture in his suit.Two young boys."
"His kids? Was there any family present to witness?"
"Don't think so.."
"Anyways, I'm going to bed..."
Sterns reached for the picture from his coat pocket. The edges were frayed and the base had begun to peel off. The boys in the picture looked cheerful, one chubby and one thin. He turned the picture over to read something scribbled in black ink.
"Fletcher boys.Summer of 74"

私はひどい下痢です～ I have a bad case of diarrhea

2008-10-21T12:06:00.001-07:00

I have a bad case of side-splitting!

Zuikin English : How dare you say such a thing to me?

2008-10-21T12:04:00.001-07:00

Yes, really...how DARE you!!!

Zuiikin English - Take anything you want!

2008-10-21T12:00:00.001-07:00

These are videos meant to promote physical fitness AND English education in Japan! How neat!

Asian Music Appreciation 101:Benny Lava

2008-10-21T11:51:00.001-07:00

Eastern movie track to the western ear

Goddess descends...

2008-10-17T00:54:00.000-07:00

It was a swarm of heads in every direction. I had been waiting for over 45 minutes but they seemed to be much longer than the many years I have waited so far to experience this moment. So many fabulous dreams have occupied my mind ever since I was introduced to Her grace. At times, I'd almost be tempted to believe that She was an urban myth, a legend in its truest definition...unreal and possibly hyped up beyond imagination.

But I'd met Her followers and I'd met Her worshippers. They swore by Her aura even though she hadn't graced this town in 10 years. I felt I owed my presence here tonight to their faith, even if I didn't owe it to Her splendour. A part of me wanted to believe it was all true. But another tiny part tried to keep me grounded.

Without warning, darkness enveloped us everywhere. My heart skipped a beat as the excitement turned into a frenzy. Some people were in tears, some hugging their neighbours for support. The anticipation was too much.

And then Her eyes materialised. They opened up with allure and Her hair blew gently across Her perfect face. The wind caressed Her fine features as She zoomed down the road. The wave of humanity around me erupted in sheer joy and loud cheer as She flew gracefully to Her High notes...

"I drove all night...to get to you.....wake you from your sleep..."

Tokyo Monogatari aka "Hamara koi hai nahin"

2008-10-15T16:34:00.000-07:00

Last week, I finally finished watching Yasujiro Ozu's "Tokyo Story". The Professor had insisted I watch it after he found out about my profound love for most things Japanese (excluding cuisine, animation, Manga and video games). At the very outset, let me declare that I had no expectations regarding this movie and now that I've finished watching it, I did enjoy the experience. The (in)sensitive comments which might follow are only meant to describe how exactly I'd enjoyed some parts in this movie.

An elderly couple sets off for Tokyo from their tiny fishing hamlet, Onomichi, to visit their children who have settled comfortably in life. The parents leave behind their youngest daughter to take care of the house. Their eldest son, Koichi, hosts them at his house first. His wife, Fumiko (who I shall call Jethani henceforth), is the very picture of the adarsh Indian daughter-in-law that Bollywood tearjerkers are made of. But try as she might, her kids refuse to take to their grandparents immediately. And so she is left to apologise profusely for their rudeness. Duty beckons as Koichi needs to cancel Sunday sightseeing plans to save a child from flu(I'd like to say cancer but that might be too dramatic for subdued Japanese cinema). The parents ofcourse understand graciously but their disappointment is visible, as was my confusion. Sorry Mom+Pop, there are kids a-waitin to be saved by the good doc! Cut him some slack, his wife is literally running from bamboo door to bamboo door trying to make your stay comfortable!

But ofcourse, our parents can't dream of imposing themselves on their son.They decide to head to the dwelling of their second child, Shige who has her own beauty parlour. Now you gotta watch out for this one. Shige is one selfish bitch and she'll sell off her poor old parents to a yakuza gang if that were legally permitted. Somehow, I can't stop picturing Himani Shivpuri playing this part to perfection if this movie were to be remade by Sooraj Barjatya. Rajshri Productions proudly presents "Hamara koi hai nahin" (We don't have anyone left to call our own anymore) starring Alok Nath and Reema Lagoo in lead roles. Ooh, I gotta write this one down somewhere!

Shige has no time to chaperone her gawaar(uneducated) mummy-daddy. There are Japanese women in line waiting to be beautified and time is money,people! So the crafty vixen calls her sister-in-law, the lovely Noriko, to spend time with the couple and show them around Tokyo.

Now if you thought Jethani deserved the "Bahu of the year" award for her service, wait until you've met Noriko. The vivacious lass has an indelible smile that gets tedious after a while. But she worships her in-laws with a devotion so fierce that the Bahurani(Daughter-in-law) Foundation of India(BFI) has protested against her unrealistic portrayal. The Society for Sassy Saasoo-moms (Mothers-in-law) (SSS) however has decided to make Noriko-san their international Spokesperson.

Noriko married the youngest son in the family,only to be deserted when he had to rush off and drop bombs in WW2. We are told that he died in the war, a detail which could have been really milked well by the inclusion of a mother's lament, reincarnation(picture Raakhee's"Mere Karan-Arjun aayenge!") or one of Manoj Kumar's immortal songs. Sati-Savitri that she is, Noriko continues to believe that her heart belongs to the man she lost, chiding herself the moment she stops thinking about him. And ofcourse, his parents might well be her parents!

The daughter-in-law showers care,concern and affection on the elderly couple in a manner that should shame the children. But then, with the likes of Shige,we don't have to worry about shame really. Some classic scenes which remain fresh in my memory include the evening when Mom+Pop head to Noriko's tiny shack after painting the town red. I love Japanese culture just for the fact that family and respect play such vital roles in daily existence.

Noriko:"Thank you so much for visiting my house,Mother and Father"
Ma-in-Law:"Thank you for inviting us over,Ms.Noriko"
Noriko:"Thank you for accepting my invitation,Mother" (hah!I am one up over you in being courteous!)
Ma-in-Law:"Thank you for thinking about inviting us!" (Hah Hah!Thought you could win this one? I've been around a lot longer, missy!)

Ok, that scene really didn't happen the way I'd exagerrated it to be!But it was close enough! With all the apologies and thanks that people had for one another, I was beginning to wonder how substantial conversations actually happened in Japanese culture! Do they maintain such formal tones when they exchange juicy gossip as well?

Hypothetical lady1 at beauty salon:"Thank you for informing me about Kimura's husband's adultery"
Hypothetical lady2 at beauty salon:"Thank you for listening to me about Kimura's husband's adultery. I am sorry I cannot find out exactly how many times he has cheated"
Lady1:"Please dont apologise. I am sorry I burdened you to share this gossip with me"

Ok,I don't want to digress too far. But you do understand that this movie is a lesson in Japanese cultural traditions. And so, I was only trying to make my point more lucid!

Back to Tokyo. Shige decides to send her folks off to a nice spa on the coast so that they can relax. Ocean view, hot luxurious baths, massages,great seafood...the works! Now wasn't that nice of her (even though she kinda wanted them out of the house to prepare for work-related gatherings)? Heck, I would've trotted off to that spa with pleasure. But alas, Otoosan(Father) and Okaasan(Mother) climb a stone wall and dangle their legs as they regret how their children have changed over the years. Mom gets a bit dizzy and they decide to return to Tokyo.

Shige is clearly not expecting them back so soon. After all, she and her husband pitched in 1000 yen each to send them away. Her displeasure is pretty evident when she doesnt respond to their Tadaima!(Ta Daa..We are home!) with the customary Okaerinasai!(Hey welcome back!) and instead pecks on about their early return. Methinks she must have been worried that the spa wouldn't give a refund on nights they didnt spend there. Hey, I would have done the same thing!

The parents realise that their unexpected return was not a smart move, since Shige was expecting to host colleagues. They don't want to be in the way.Mom decides to spend a night at Noriko's (God bless every MIL who has a DIL to worship her!) while Pop decides to visit an old friend and possibly get himself invited to crash for the night(crafty!).

As Pop tries to sweet-talk his friend's wife into letting him spend the night, she sees through his design and makes a pre-emptive strike saying that they don't have enough food in the house (aha, a likely story!). Pop and his buddy grab some other geysers and they trudge into the neighbourhood sake-shop to drink away their woes about their offspring.

A flying saucer now lands in the middle of the city and aliens crawl out to attack Noriko's house when Godzilla emerges from the sea......ok ok I was just testing to see if you were following the story!

Mom tries to persuade Noriko-san to forget about their son, move on with her life, remarry and seek happier times. Noriko consistently maintains humility in her response. This is kinda how it goes...

Mom:You are so good to us.
Noriko:No!
Mom:You are so kind to us.
Noriko:No!
Mom:You went to such great trouble to show us around.
Noriko:No No!
Mom:You really miss my son,dont you?
Noriko:No!...er I mean YES!
Mom:You are still young.
Noriko:No!I'm not young anymore! (Girl,who are you kidding?You could have any American from the Okinawa base anytime you want!)
Mom:You should really try to find another man. You don't owe us anything.You should remarry.
Noriko:No!No!Double No! Please have a goodnight.
Mom:Father and I worry about you
Noriko:No! Please have a goodnight.
Mom:We want to see you happy
Noriko:No! Please have a goodnight.
Mom:We really wish you'd think more about yourself.
Noriko:No!Please have a goodnight (turns off light. That's it you old cow, You better shut up and go to sleep before I kick you out!)

While Mom is pampered in Noriko's humble abode, Pop is so wasted at the sake-ya(bar). The police have to return him to Shige's house and ofcourse the dragon breathes fire when she sees him inebriated. Isn't it funny how parents and children switch roles after a certain stage?

The next day, Mom+Pop decide to return to their village,back to their bucolic setting. A parting song for the family would have been a moneygrosser, reminding society about how the heart always loves the ones dear to it. I would have asked for my money back if the movie had ended here. I mean,come on...so Shige is a little pre-occupied but its not like the parents were disowned by their kids! In a Barjatya movie, you'd be praying to Lord Krishna at this point,hoping that he would send an animal (usually a dove or a fluffy toy dog) to set things right.

Fortunately (rather unfortunately), the kids get a telegram from Onomichi.Mom is critically ill. Shige and Koichi decide to rush down, smartly packing their mourning robes (just in case). Noriko follows swiftly (a tsunami couldn't keep her away). The doctor cautions that Momma might not make it through the night, an alarming detail which brings some shock before Shige regains her calculating self and comments on their younger brother Keiso's delayed arrival even though he lives close by in Osaka. Her acrid tongue goes far enough to express surprise that their Mom should be the one to go first (when Papa clearly has a drinking problem).

Alas, Momma passes away in the morning and young Keiso is too late. Funeral arrangements are swiftly made and Shige immediately stakes her claim on some kimonos which Mom used to own. Hey,its not like she wanted the house or her pearls! Relax,people!

Anyways, the kids ofcourse head back to their homes soon after.Noriko is the last to leave. She mourns this new loss as her FIL stares off into space with his now-legendary "Mmmmm" line (he delivers that to perfection every time someone has a question for him).

And that's it.

Now tell me, Sooraj Barjatya couldn't have made a blockbuster with that plot, a dozen songs and gifted pets?

Extrapolating...

Movie sets: Ram Nagar(Onomichi) and Mumbai(Tokyo)
Mom:Reema Lagoo/Rakhee(lets have a bawling competition to decide)
Pop:Alok Nath
Koichi:Mohnish Behl
Fumiko(Koichi's wife):Tabu
Shige:Himani Shivpuri/Mita Vashisht
Noriko:Vidya Balan
Keiso:Shahid Kapoor

Additional cast:
Tuffy the dog(must have)
Billi the cat(nice to have)
Bindu(essential)
In-laws for all spouses (5 pairs)

Music:Himmesh Reshammiya(no wait,scratch that! He might end up acting in the movie then!)

Overall, I will definitely agree that I loved some of these characters. And I'll always remember Mom with fondness. I dont think the movie is "one of the greatest movies ever made" when I recollect some Bollywood classics (Nargis,Guru Dutt, Dev Anand hits) which really hit you hard. But I wont deny that the movie left me thinking about how jaded we have become to dismiss such a story for lack of melodrama.

As a race,have we already taught ourselves to be thankful for small mercies in our twilight years?

551 words

2008-10-15T15:26:00.000-07:00

Who ordered fall to arrive so early? I hate to see pitch darkness outside my window as I wake up at 7.13am. Bob, my cute little bedside companion from Brookstone, lights up in blue and starts beeping a few minutes later. Dragging my feet into the bathroom, I spend exactly 26 minutes answering Nature's call, brushing my teeth (13 strokes in every corner), showering off (Wednesdays are good for tea-tree oil-based soap) and picking out an outfit to match my shoes for the day (Doc Marten Mondays and Cole Haan Tuesdays need to be followed by semi-casual Wednesdays to set the tone for Land's End Thursdays and Nike Fridays).

Jesudas calls out Lord Krishna's message to humanity through my music system as I saunter into the kitchen to fix myself breakfast. I'm tempted to pick cereal again but I think they taste best on Tuesdays. Sighing to myself , I know I'll end up fishing out 3 banana waffles from the freezer. Pop..Pop...Pop...they smell wonderful when toasted. I make spiral suns on them with maple syrup as I reach for a pair of Taj Mahal tea bags from the tea container.

And then it happens.

My arm twitches and my lips part in mild surprise as I find myself reaching for the coffee container instead. Gulping some spit which had risen up my throat, my eyes grow wide in disbelief. You can't be serious! Are you really preparing coffee today?

Shock takes over as Disbelief sputters on his knees. Are you out of your mind ? How can you let this happen? Have you even thought this through?

Meanwhile,Confusion has landed in my brain and assures Shock that she will now put a stop to this. Why today?What's wrong with tea?Who gave you this weird idea anyway?Isn't coffee supposed to be exclusively for Sunday?Should I call out to Panic?

My muscles and emotions are in complete turmoil now. Thankfully, I hear Order's gaunt voice echoing from the interior of my brain.

"Silence ! This is obviously a case of misjudgement. There's no reason to panic. Our boy has merely slipped. Happens to the best of us."

As Order turns around to retreat, a handsome devil's shadow looms across. His trident raised in the air, Impulse smites the old man and giggles in glee.

"Go on, have that cup of coffee!You know you've always wanted to! Isn't that fresh roast tantalising your senses now? Give in to its rich flavour. It's so wrong, it's bad...and that's why you'll feel so GOOD!"

Throwing caution to the winds, I add 2 teaspoons of Nescafe Instant to my cup of hot milk. I look away in shame as I replace the coffee jar next to the aluminium jar marked TEA. The letters hit me in the face and I close the cabinet quickly.

As I polish off my waffles, I distract myself with the latest issue of Details. In the back of my mind, an unsettling feeling gnaws diligently. I hurry off to work and settle down at my desk as Machan walks over from his cubicle.

"Good morning", he stretches into a chair as he pushes aside a box of Kleenex to rest his elbow on my desk.

"Don't worry!I'll put the box back in its place when I leave!", he exclaims hastily before I can open my mouth.

I need help.

How to say it?

2008-10-11T22:33:00.000-07:00

When I was in 7th grade, RC's English Language Lab had a chart on the wall with the question "When are you happy?". I really believe that to this day, I haven't been able to answer that question. I can recall times when I feel elated,content,pleased,thrilled or satisfied. But how do you truly define happiness?

Tonight,I had a lovely evening shopping with JJ and Shoopster which ended with a nice Italian meal and delectable Ben&Jerry's ice cream. I brought some dessert home and I'm curled up on my comfy couch in my oh-so-lovely robe (God bless Nautica!). A kind stranger is playing soft romantic piano melodies on an mp3 cd and the new Hugo Boss cologne I'd tried out still lingers in the air. Good food,good friends,good music,comfy positioning.....not entirely happy but definitely content!

Nights in grad school when we used to walk down Clifton Avenue to the UDF outlet near campus. Great ice creams and milkshakes at dirt cheap prices. The walk back was part of the experience...crossing the Hillel Jewish center, stopping for a few minutes at one of the benches on Clifton to observe the people who scurried at traffic lights, enjoying the manicured lawns of Good Samaritan hospital. One of life's simplest pleasures on a breezy night.

Travelling to India in April last year. The trip had been long overdue but a small surprise had been built into it. After taking off early from work, I rushed home to change and get ready just in time for Yago to arrive. The excitement didn't build up until the friendly United Airlines representative handed me my boarding passes for my flights on Singapore Airlines. Holding those passes brought me into the reality of the moment with a jolt. I was actually headed home after 3.5 years. I'd never been away from home so long. The excitement was diluted by the fact that I was planning to surprise them, unsure of how they'd handle it. The final leg of the journey from Singapore to Chennai seemed to take the longest. That rush of emotions I experienced when I read a sign in Tamil for Chennai's Fire Service on the airport's grounds. How many years had it been since I'd seen the bustling city's narrow streets and large crowds!Anticipation.

Pure happiness? Still trying to figure that one out.

Question...

2008-10-10T01:08:00.001-07:00

For the man in the gym who stands under the shower for 30 minutes.

Do you realise some people have to walk miles to fetch drinking water?

For the American neighbour who asked me if he should dial 911 to call the police (not fully convinced that he should indeed call the police to let them know he had walked into his apartment to find a stranger sleeping on his couch)

Are you kidding me ?

For Miss Kaddoo

Didn't you get the memo when they were handing out intelligence? Or is this all you managed to get?

For the teenager who stands in line at Starbucks yapping on her phone until she needs to place her order and then proceeds to stare at the menu ("I would like...umm...")

Brittany, Tiffany and Ashley aren't going anywhere. Catch up on the sappy stories AFTER you've gotten your beverage or just get out of the line!

For the frat-dude who greets you with "What's up?" but keeps walking before you begin to respond

Certainly not your IQ, is it ?

For the skater-dudes who wear their pants around their thighs and then yank 'em up every few minutes

What kind of slobs are you?

For teenagers who use the word "like" 600 times in a sentence

Is that how you guys write sentences too?

For me !

Why do you always have to have the last word? And why can't you just let go?

For the Inball Pinto dance group whose performance I attended this week

What the heck was that all about?

For a restaurateur

Why don't we ever find Chinese people dining in Chinese restaurants?

For my team in van2(Portland to Coast) when they informed me that I'd only walked 0.8mile after what seemed to be 25 mts.

Are you kidding me?

For the rotund lady who manages to fit into a tight dress and walk on super-pointed heels

How do you not fall? I mean, how?? And how does all that weight rest on 2sq.cm heels??

For the yoga instructor who asked us to 'breathe through our outstretched arms'

Seriously, are you kidding me?

For white people who refer to other races (Hispanic,South Asian, Pacific Islanders etc) as 'ethnic' (the word referring to a group where people relate to one another based on preferential endogamy and common ancestry)

What does that make you?

For people who serve cool/cold beverages in America

Why do you fill a glass with ice first and then the beverage? The taste turns gross once the ice has melted ! And you aren't giving us a full cup of beverage anyway.

For Katie Couric (after her interview on CBS with Alaska Gov.Sarah Palin)

What were you THINKING?

For Alaska Gov.Sarah Palin (after her interview with Katie Couric on CBS)

Why WEREN'T YOU thinking?

Sunshine in twilight

2008-10-09T17:12:00.000-07:00

"Well hello there, old man!"

I lift my eyes up to find him peering in excitedly. He is shorter than the others. Not a large person either. His hair is thinning but he seems to have an certain energy his age can't conceal.

"And what are you doing by yourself?", he continues.

By myself ? Did I really have a say in that? Some oldies might prefer to spend their twilight years in seclusion but some of us certainly do crave company. No matter what you hear about this phase in life, nothing quite prepares you for the rude shocks that jolt you at a time when your heart is weak.

He steps into my space but I am too weak to object. What difference does it make?He's probably being courteous like his parents taught him to be. Within the hour, he will have visited the others and be on his way home. He kneels down and looks at me kindly as he examines my surroundings.

"You look so sad! Are you not enjoying this sunshine today?", he reaches out and squeezes me.

It has been a while since I enjoyed a sunny morning, I'd like to tell him. But I am too tired to respond. Frankly I can't remember the last time I did enjoy a sunny morning. A single moment of true joy is worth more than a lifetime of happiness. Katie used to love it so much when Julie Andrews said that line in that funny movie about princesses. But what makes a moment truly joyful is the presence of love in your life. Have you ever wondered how simple things turn so beautiful when love is around you? Colours turn vivid, music turns melodic and people seem to be happier around you. So sad then that the same simple pleasures in life lose their charm just as quickly when that love goes away.

I've never held grudges about the decisions in my life which were made without my consent. I've learnt to adapt to my environs everywhere life has taken me. I've even learned to love unconditionally, something I am sincerely proud of. I just never learned to prepare myself for a time when those strengths hold no good anymore. Then again, how could I have foreseen such a time in my life ?

Whatever happened to taking things for granted? Was I a fool to have loved unconditionally?Had I been naive to think that the same people I'd helped would one day watch over me? Have I just not been smart enough or have people always been this way?

The first time I started to notice a change was when Gertrude fell ill. The old dame had been visited by the doctor several times but I knew she had several years left in her. Even though we both complained about our weak bones, no one could move around the house like she did. When the doctor finally instructed that he'd stop visiting if she sneaked out of bed one more time, I knew I couldn't leave her side. She needed me and I wasn't going anywhere.

The kids never really stopped by. But then, who am I to find folly with the innocence of youth? What hurt the most was the way Craig and Tracy sighed everytime Gertrude asked for a favour. "You need to go to the bathroom again?" "No, it isnt time for your meds yet. Yes, we remember!" " I really cant get to that right now. We are late for work already".

It killed me that I wasn't of much help in my incapacitated state. I did have my own needs but they could wait.

One cold night , Gertrude jolted out of her sleep with a soft cry. My heart raced in panic. This did not feel right. I hurried down the stairs,promising to return soon. By the time I'd returned with Craig, she was heaving uncontrollably. My eyes grew wide as Craig tried to steady her breathing. I backed into a corner and stared aghast as my soulmate's body jerked hard and then slowed into a lump.

In the middle of the night, she had left me. The loss was devastating and I withdrew into a shell. No faces cheered me for days and nothing seemed to excite me again. Her memories filled my mind and angered me. How could she have left me this way?And how was I supposed to move on as these images tormented me? I started to turn snappish and that didn't go unnoticed. For several days, Craig and Tracy came down hard on me, terming me to be 'difficult'.

What a sad irony in life that the same people who seek your full attention in their infancy find that same job 'difficult' when tables turn!

I didn't complain when they decided that I couldn't stay with them anymore. Separation was not new to me. I had been adopted as a young one. I'd never known my mother. The one person I truly knew had now left me for another world. And how much time did I have left anyway? A few more years and I would be a forgotten memory, save the occasionally amusing anecdote at the dinner table.

I've lived in my new space for a few months now. The day Craig brought me here was the last time I ever saw or heard of him. The people here do take good care of me. They do the best they can. And I'm grateful for that.

On occasion, a kind person bothers to stop by and spend some time with me. Usually they are young kids. But sometimes young men and women wearing green aprons stop by too. Much like this young man who is now holding me and massaging my muscles. I realise now that he has been here for well over 30 minutes, longer than most people bother to spend.

"There! Doesn't that feel good, old man?" he chirps with a warm smile.

"It sure does", I wag my tail on the floor in gratitude.

In the company of solitude...

2008-10-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

Cold rainy day, not one unseen

Making my way through faces unknown

Peering through narrow slits

Want not to open them further

For these raindrops are daggers to my eyes

Piercing, plunging, taunting cold

Fresh streams that merge in the pool

Strange the ways of the heart

Eyes of its own that defy what I see

A mind of its own irresolute

Is reality just what exists?

Kill a dying flame with a final breath

Before my frail form collapses in defeat

Every moment I live, I seek you

Every moment I die, I yearn for you

In a crowd, I pine, but for a sign

To tell me you exist, you know and you seek too

A sign to fuel a search futile

Coveting eyes everywhere, fetching forms tease and tempt

A pity I can't spot what I should

I don't see what I seek, and yet I do

A faceless vision; a form hazy in the distance

Every moment I live and die

If truth is belief and dreams turn real

If love has powers praised and preached

If souls were really to seek and comfort

What cold you should harbour to see me this way!

So give me a sign,my love

That every morning I yearn for a night in arms' bliss

And every night I yearn for morning kiss

That I should pen my love for you

And struggle for words to string my thoughts

For none befit such perfect beauty

None merit fantastic passion

On bended knees I pray you seek

Bring meaning to my empty heart

Why the teacher you are not respecting?

2008-10-07T23:09:00.000-07:00

There are some of us who focus on the drive. Then there are people like me who can't even get a car started before making sure that the seat is positioned just right, air vent at the perfect angle and music at precisely the right volume. These are the people who are so meticulous at times that you want to kill yourself when you ask them for a hand. Sometimes you'd like to do that when they ask you for a hand as well.

Miraculously, I managed to find two chums to indulge me for almost 2 hours as I brainstormed over catchy names for this blog. Strong contenders like MNOP(Madras Nitwit out in Portland) and 'apunboleto' were immediately rejected. Others weren't available names on blogger.com which got me thinking about exactly how many jobless Madrasi nitwits were really out there to fight over my title, dorky as it is.

As I jotted down a zillion names, I could hear BSNL's automated lady admonishing me

"Please wait, You are in Queue!"

I continued to scribble some more and she literally reached out of the telephone cable to smack me , "I said WAIT, damn it!"

Smarting from the chiding, I got thinking about the last time I'd heard someone use words like 'queue(line)', 'flat(apartment)' and 'toilet(restroom)'. Six years in America can make you forget some endearing things from home. And so, like the venerating students we promised we'd be in highschool, I've decided to polish my pair of goody shoes and dedicate this first posting to memories from our schooling years when teachers selflessly taught us the beauty of Indian English.

Built on the foundation of implicit discipline, our 50-year old school has grown to become one of the best institutions in South India, a fact our Principal was only too happy to remind us at any given opportunity. Morning assembly was a laborious ordeal especially on Mondays when we were expected to wear a stifling polyester white uniform. It never occurred to any of us back then to find out exactl y why we needed to wear white. Catching up over weekend atrocities, we would pay no heed to repeated calls over the microphone until Mr.Simon, the Phy.Ed teacher, yanked us by the ear to get us in line.

"Both the three of you, stand in a straight line!"

Aren't lines supposed to be straight anyway ? You can have a set of lines make up a jagged,crooked design but the line segments themselves are straight,right ?

Getting clarity on queries like these was supremely important if we were expected to set shining examples in future. While we debated on this, our Vice-Principal had other plans.

"I still hear whispering in the lines! This row,no not that row, this row...this row! Yes, the boy in the middle! Yes you! Standing behind the tall boy!"

A hundred boys would now perspire profusely since there existed every possibility that she was referring to any of them. As they wiped their glasses to focus on her finger, the tall boys would graciously step aside to strip them of any cover.

Eventually the offender would be identified and unceremoniously sent to the back of the line wherein he would have to join the late-comers and the defaulters(no shoes,uniform unironed etc).

"Pin drop silence I want.....Join your hands, close your eyes and get ready for prayer"

45 minutes of Sanskrit prayers would be followed by a "Thought for the day" which no one usually pondered over save the unlucky student who had to deliver a short speech on that topic that day.

"The thought for the day is cleanliness. As we all know, cleanliness is next to godliness..." he stuttered as he tried to tuck in his shirt and rub off a smudge on his shorts.

Spending the next few minutes regurgitating everything he had memorised over the last hour, the boy would wrap his speech by repeating the thought, a truth which had slipped his mind altogether.

"So I'd like to end my speech by repeating our thought for the day which is....umm...."

The noble souls that we were, one of us would save him from potential embarrassment just so we could get dismissed from assembly and head to class soon.

Back in class, an hour of Physics wit h the Doctor lady started the morning on a bad note.

"Who can tell me the colours in the rainbow?" she'd demand with an authority that made you believe she was hiding the rainbow beneath her sari's pallu so that you wouldn't cheat.

"Green?Red?Blue?..."

The surprise in her exclamations would make you question your own faith in the colours of the rainbow (notice I spelled colours with a 'u'!).

"Brown?!!! Adityan, may a barrell of water be emptied on your hollow head!"

Convinced that she could never make physicists out of us, Doctor lady would stomp off to let LaRa begin Chemistry lessons.

"Open the window please, let the atmosphere come in..."

After ensuring that the 'atmosphere' had entered, she focussed her attention on home work.

"Who can say me the answer to last week's problem?You (pointing to me)?"

Naturally I had no idea about the answer.

"Say me the answer!Come on, say me!"

I wanted to correct her but I didn't dare correct a Chemistry teacher when I hadn't completed my homework.

"Ma'am, I cant really say you the answer!"

My honesty and deference was rewarded with a dirty look and I promptly found myself sent out of the class and standing in the corridor(not hallway).

I spent the next few minutes admiring an excited crow when a 6th grade volunteer r an down the corridor for dear life.

"The VP was passing away in second floor!"

No reason to panic. Our beloved Vice-Principal was making one of her unannounced rounds but this wasn't a good sign either.

Spotting me in the corridor, she stopped in her tracks , "What is the head-going problem?" (typical Tamil-English transliteration)

I explained the story behind my imposition without exagerrating details.

"How could you be able to tell like that, tell me now?"

Was that supposed to be a trick question?

The one class I thoroughly enjoyed every week was English with RC. This lady revolutionised the way we learnt English and our contempt for the easiness of the subject was replaced by excitement. For starters, she launched a language lab exclusively for this purpose-an idea which shocked and horrified teachers in math and science. How could anyone desecrate their sacred temple by posting spelling bee charts and word puzzles!

English hour would follow right after lunch and the occasional slacker who was delayed by a few minutes didn't find it easy to slip in.

"Can I come in,Ma'am?", he'd spit out and proceed to step in before she could response.

One cold icy stare.

"You can but you may not."

With that he'd be sent right out again until he had learnt to correct himself.

"May I come in,Ma'am?"

Her temper was usually shortlived and within seconds, a familiar warmth would exude from her kind face as she lectured us on gerunds and infinitives.

"Dear Madam, I kindly request you to exempt my ward from submitting his homework today as he was ill with fever yesterday.", she read out aloud as a cheeky guy stared at the ceiling, fit as a fiddle.

"Your parents cannot be kind to request us to exempt you from anything. It is our decision to be kind in that regard!" she laughed out clearly aware that he had written that letter himself.

The instructor for the next hour had not presented herself after English hour had ended. Like a dutiful puppy, the Assistant Class Leader (ACL) would trot off to the staff room to fetch her.

My Indian friends will agree here that it is customary in Indian schools to not address teachers by their first names. The title "Ma'am" is supremely respectful and at times, not too specific either.

"Excuse me,Ma'am" stammered the nervous ACL as she found a group of teachers gossipping in the staff room.

Several teachers looked up and this got the ACL flustered completely.

"Not you , Ma'am. That Ma'am, Ma'am!" she whispered pointing at the teacher who had to be fetched.

Returning to the classroom with the teacher waddling behind her, the ACL rested after completing a significant accomplishment for the day.

"It's so stuffy in here. Hey the fan is OFF. Can someone ON it?" asked the teacher, fanning herself with the end of her sari.

"Before I forget, you all have to return the forms I gave to you last week. Also, did you read the news about Board examinations becoming tougher this year?"

None of us planned to worry about the Board examinations until we had actually graduated to class 10 when they would be administered to us.

"You should be given a glance in the paper everyday. You can be able to improve your knowledge by that way", commented the teacher, shaking her head in disappointment.

Scanning the forms she had collected, she flagged one out.

"Ajay, you didn't fill in your date of birth. When you came in the Earth?"

Yes,we Indians do take incarnations and reincarnations seriously!

The humour did not go unnoticed and as some students let out muffled grins, her ears pricked up.

"What the reason is for noise? Simply for no reason only you are laughing in back row. I always say backbenchers are worst case"

The school bell chiming at 4pm was drowned in a sea of shuffling shoes as desks got cleared, scales(rulers!) were put away, geometry boxes snapped shut and book-bag(not backpacks!) clips fastened tight.

"Those who didn't submit, bring forms tomorrow without fail!" yelled the teacher as we swarmed around her to head to the door.

"Leave it, that one Ma'am!" we yelled back before heading across the street to Anand Bread House to see if Coca Cola was finally available in aluminium cans.

Ten years have passed since we walked out of those portals. When we bump into one of those teachers these days, it amazes us that they remember every single one of us fondly along with the antics we were infamous for. The pride you see in their eyes humbles us in no small measure.
Here's to you fine teachers! Sree Gurubhyo Namaha!