The unconquered devil -- Day 4

While going through the news today, I read about the Mathematics and Physics board papers being really difficult. I have not been able to shake off the uneasiness from the article. That's how much I was terrorized of Maths. Even after a decade, when I learn that the paper was tough, I sweat. "What if I was there!" I think. I still get that queasy feeling, before an interview or before anything important in my life. I call that feeling "The pre-maths exam feeling"

To this date, I either blindly take the change given to me or turn to the husband with a questioning look. Every single time, he smiles and whispers the figures that I should get back. I never participate in splitting the bill and again, blindly hand over or accept whatever is the amount. Because, I know how futile the attempt to try would be. I still get confused with linear equations and mostly calculate the age of the mother to be lesser than the daughter. My father still laughs at that. Talking about my father, well, if I could pass any of those mathematics papers, it was all thanks to him. He would be after me , endlessly, tirelessly, helping me solve every single problem, understand every single logic and basically help me keep my head up to survive.

I used to hate those girls in my school who would get full marks in maths and although it is not a big deal or even unusual to get full marks in maths, for me, it was a completely unknown zone. How do they do it, I would wonder. Actually , no I would not hate the toppers, because unfortunately all these were my really good friends. I remember one annoying incident though. I guess it was 9th Standard. I was still a pretty decent student. Our mathematics teacher was called Girija Warrior. Yup! A warrior she was. She was actually a very sweet lady. Anyway, so after I believe the second terms, Girija warrior announces in the class, "Bad performance girls. No full score in this section this time. Only one girl got 99 and a half." I obviously did not bother about the second half of the information, but the first half rattled me. "How bad is this bad performance? I hope I pass!" After she dismissed the class, the girl I used to sit with, started crying.

"What happened?" I asked.
"What if I am not the one who got those 99 and a half?" She said, sobbing,

I am glad hitting each other in school was not taught to us. I mean, seriously girl? Here I am, worrying about scoring at least 40 on 100 and you are crying? like real tears out of your eyes on a what if? What if you don't get 99 and a half?

I turned. I didn't answer her, I didn't console her, I didn't talk to her. No. I hated such people then and I hate such people now. If you are extra ordinary and you know you are extra ordinary, please don't cry in front of an average student who struggles to pass. I mean I understand every one sets a standard for themselves and one gets disappointed if those standards are not met. But can you please take those high standards home and not scare already scared children?

I know! I know! It is unfair of me to blame her. After all she was a good student looking for perfection. She was crying out of fear, I don't know her situation, what if she was under tremendous pressure to perform blah blah --yes! I get it.

Anyway, I never got along with the nasty subject and I am glad I don't have to study it any more. Nor do I have to apply it except basic calculations. Seriously, what was the point of learning log tables and proving a theorem which said that 2 parallel lines meet at infinity? At least and thankfully I never had to use it. I am sure mathematicians find practical application of their knowledge. Good for them.

The news article opened a box of unpleasant, yet when-you-look-back-you-laugh memories.It also made me extremely extremely thankful. Thank God I am done with all this. Thank God I was not one among those students who gave the exams. Because I am thoroughly aware of how utterly torturous are those 3 hours when you know nothing in a paper. If any 12th standard student is reading this, all I can say is, from the bottom of my heart, I will pray for you. I know the pain.

Before I end this, that sobbing girl? She indeed got her 99 and a half. I remember her properly, I know her name. Of course I won't take it.

So this was day 4 of my blogging challenge and I hope it continues. Till then , if you, my reader want me to blog about something particular, please leave a few suggestions. I can surely use one!

Same old , Same old -- Day 3

My hands are hovering over the keyboard. This is what it feels like to not know,not having a freakin clue about what to write. Still hovering --
still clueless.

Now since I really don't know what to write, I will write about a topic that has been done to death in the last few days -- The AIB roast. What did I think of the roast? Well! I laughed! I did not think it was mind-blowingly brilliant nor did I think it was boring. Here is the deal with me. I don't find profanity funny. What I do rather find funny is how much people guffaw at the utterance of abusive words. "Why?" I shrug!! Whats the joke in that?

Having said that, I found some of the content pretty funny. So yes, as I said earlier, I had a good time watching the roast. Now here is why I feel the hungama over the AIB roast was unnecesarry-- this show was different from AIB's other shows only in the format and not so much in the content. If you have attended any of their royal turds show,or even if you have seen them on youtube , you will know that all their shows are highly abusive. When they are not making fun of volunteering film stars, they are making fun of random audience members. When I attended the Royal Turds in Bangalore, they caught hold of an audience member who wore a flash t-shirt. He was literally 'roasted' throughout the show by every single member of the group. So honestly, except the fact that this show was much more daring and the actors were physically present for the show, there was nothing new -- at least nothing shocking for people like me who follow these guys closely.

Talking about being funny, I really like how the stand up comedy scene is growing, at least in Bangalore. It is nice, once in a blue moon, to laugh at things that may or may not concern you. As far as taking offence goes, I have nothing new to say. One needs to learn to laugh at oneself. But where does one draw a line? Is there a line at all? What is that one tiny divide between insulting someone and "Hey! I was just kidding!" . If I say the most derogatory things to someone while laughing, is that okay? These are just a few questions that usually come to mind whenever this whole debate takes place. But if you are worried that these stand up acts are bad influence for your children because they use a couple of f-words, then don't lose your sleep over it. There are enough sources and more than enough exposure for a young mind to know stuff we never knew at that age.

Talking about stand up comics, I find Vipul Goyal and Sapan Verma really funny. This is an awesome to the power infinity video. I have seen this guy in real and he is seriously fantastic. This one by Sapan Verma is amazing. There are many other Sapan Verma videos that I love. Recently, I have a new favorite. This guy. His content is not just funny, it is thought provoking. I hope to see him live very soon! Oh and while we are talking about funny people, I would like to add my most favorite ones here . They are not stand ups but they are superb. The Viral Fever guys. These are the best out of the lot, hands down! If I ever meet them, I am going to say a heart felt thank you. These people have made me laugh in the saddest of my moods and though that never solves a problem, it does allow light to enter your room!

There are a lot of stand up comedians these days and trust me it is a good thing. Life is fucked up people! You are stuck in a job you hate with people you hate. You start a Monday morning only to wait for a Friday evening. You wonder what will become of you in a few years. The money is always less and the expenditure always a bit more. Many reasons to frown, only a few to smile. These funny gentlemen help you increase those moments. Do yourself a favor. Laugh!

Running Away -- Day 2

I have always wanted to run away -- to a place where no one bothers. To a place that is an escape, that is breathtaking beautiful.
I want to pack a bag with the bare minimum and flee off. To a place where serenity covers the surroundings like a blanket.
I want to sit on a rock in the middle of a white stream. I want to breathe the dampness around.
I want to cry. Yes , I do. I want to cry because Rashmi ma'am hit me with a scale when I was not even the one who disturbed her class. But she won't listen.
I want to cry because they say I am not enough. Not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough.
I want to cry for every single time I pushed my tears back, blinked and smiled.
I want to finish my due.
And when I am done, I want to feel light.
I want to feel as if I can fly. I want to close my eyes and feel the air caressing me, running its fingers through my hair, like a lover scared of touching me too much and yet wanting to.
And then I want to laugh. Just because.
There should not be a reason to laugh. A person should not be labelled mad because he is just plain fucking happy with no reason.
I want my eyes to sparkle -- I want them to have the star in my stare. I want the won in a wonderful life and the live in being alive.

Taking the plunge ... Day 1

I have always been scared of commitments. I have always been excited about them , but they are scary. But then, they say -- do what you are afraid of. So that's what I am here for. I am here to make a commitment. From today, everyday for one month, I am going to write a post here. Phew!! Scary! I don't even know what am I going to write. But all I know is that I need to do this. I needed to do something big, to promise something almost impossible, to get myself started or rather restarted.

Here goes nothing!

I almost never write movie reviews. I am not going to write one even now. What follows though are my thoughts that were racing through my head while I watched NH10. First things first. All the actors are fantastic. Anuskha Sharma is really really good. If you want to see how good the actor is, look at their eyes. Anushka Sharma's eyes in the movie spoke when she mouthed no dialogues. There is one scene in the movie where she sits in the ladies room to smoke. Meera, the character she plays, is already under stress. She scans the door of the washroom and sees profanity written on the doors of the washroom -- a fact very common in India. She stares at the words with a look that says , "When will this ever stop!". It is not anger, it is not on your face , roll your eyes irritation. It is just a disappointed angry look. It is amazing.

Neil Bhoopalam plays Anushka's husband and although the actor was amazing but sorry the character was a jerk! No seriously! He is the reason they get into trouble and basically the reason the movie happens. Now when I shared the same thought with my husband, here is what he had to say , "Ab kahani kahin se toh aage badhani padegi na" (They have to move the story from somewhere!) Yes but no. I believe they could have given a much better reason for the story to move ahead. The way the story panned out, it more seemed like the protagonists' doing. It felt more like, "Well! It was their fault!" Now before people jump their guns , here is the reason why I say so .

(Major spoilers ahead!! It is not a suspense story and probably one can gauge the whole movie through the promos. So there is nothing to spoil but I am going to reveal a major scene of the story. If you have not seen the movie and don't want to know what is it, I suggest you stop reading now. However, if you don't care or if you have seen the movie, go ahead. There ! You have been warned!)

The trouble begins when our protagonists see a woman being dragged by a couple of men. Arjun (Neil) is the only man who stands up to these goons. That is very brave and I love brave men. Now these men do not want any one's involvement and they shoo away Arjun. Arjun tries to argue with them again. Darshan Kumar, the head of the gang, then punches Arjun and goes away. This is what pisses off Arjun. Not that he failed in saving a woman being dragged on a bright day in full view of everyone -- he is pissed off because he was punched. It hurts his ego. (I know this for sure because he confirms this in a dialogue later too) He goes behind them with a licensed gun and soon realizes that they are too dangerous. So he chickens out! This then triggers a chain of events and then happens whatever is supposed to happen.

Do you see the trouble here? Of course the situation presented was extremely risky. What does one do when one sees a situation like this? Personally, I know I will hide a girl in my house running away from goons if I know I will not be found out. But will I butt in a sensitive matter like the one in the movie? I am not sure! Because like many onlookers I am a pathetic citizen who fails in front of a group of insensitive men who do not think twice before killing someone. But Meera and Arjun get into trouble because his freaking ego was punched. He retaliates in anger and not out of righteousness. In a place like Delhi/Gurgaon , one usually knows better.

Now that we have this out of the way, let us focus on the good points again. One -- NH10 shows a real believable world. well, almost. NH10 is a story of a real India. People who decorate their godrej almirah with stickers, working girls who face snarky comments in office, a couple who chit chat about "nothing really" but still do. I loved the realness of NH10. Exactly the reason why a bollywoodish twist dampened my spirits again. What are the odds of Anushka ending up at the goon's place looking for help? Reason? Because Bollywood.

Thankfully the songs were in background and the end? Oh the end! I loved the end. It drags you to the edge of your seat and forces you to stare at the screen with your mouth open. It makes you want to throw away all the fear you have in your minds. It makes you want to be brave.

Conclusively, NH10 did not make it to my list of "wow" movies. But someday, when I am in a mood to see good performances, I will re-watch it.

Allow

There are days i know
When somethings are just not right
When your dress gets burned or your top is too tight

And there are days i know
When all is well
But you dont smile
When things are just fine but ...something ...just something is not right

And there are days when tiny tear drops peek from your eyes
And you turn the other way
Because people will see and ask and prod and refuse to go away
So you smile ...that little ghost.of a smile that is there and yet not there
Not true and just not fair

I know you are strong of course there is no doubt
You can smile and laugh when you are down and out
But can i dare to say whats wrong in a frown
One day in hundred ...I think its allowed

Let your heart feel ...give it space
If it is sad ...show , tell, take it out ...express ...don't explain
Its great to be strong ...please dont get me wrong

Sit alone , ponder maybe even.cry
But let your heart feel what you wish to deny
and when you are done show the world whats true ...
That this smile on your lips is the actual you

When Craziness Converse

I met Neeraj at writers meetup. So yes, he is a writer but actually he is way more than just a writer. He is also a playwright an artist and a poet. Now one day, randomly (because he like me is mad), Neeraj sent me the following in a mail :

कभी गौर किया है तुमने ? रात के कुछ ढलने के बाद कई बार एक तलब चढ़ती है, चाय या कॉफ़ी पीने की । ये वो तलब होती है जब चाय या कॉफ़ी में से कुछ भी मिल जाये तो काम हो जाता है । तुम्हारे पास ऑप्शन ढूंढने के कोई हालात बचते ही नहीं । जो भी सामने आता है वो तुम स्वीकार करते हो, या कहो कि उसमें घुल लेते हो । अक्सर रात के बारह बजने के आस पास या उसके बाद मेरी भी यह इच्छा तीव्र हो जाती है । कई बार दोस्तों के साथ या अकेले एक प्याली चाय या कॉफ़ी ढूंढने निकल पड़ता हूँ । बैंगलोर के कई चौराहों, नुक्कड़ और गलियों में कुछ दूकानदार स्ट्रीट लैंप की पीली रौशनी के नीचे अपनी साइकिल पर चाय के थरमस के साथ सिगरेट और चकली लिए अक्सर खड़े होते हैं । और उनके आस पास होती है, दस से पंद्रह लोगों की भीड़, चाय या सिगरेट पीते हुए । सब अपनी बाइक और गाड़ियों को रोक कर चाय का लुत्फ़ ले रहे होते हैं । मैं उन्ही में से किसी एक नुक्कड़ पर चाय पीने निकल जाता हूँ … जहाँ भी मिल जाए । बैंगलोर की हल्की ठंढी रातों में किसी बंद दूकान की सीढ़ियों या किसी फूटपाथ पर बैठ कर समय को गुज़रते हुए देखना मुझे पसंद है ।

खैर बात हो रही थी चाय की... दरअसल रात की चाय को बस 'चाय' कहना अपराध होगा...लेखन की भाषा में कहूँ तो बड़ा ही फ्लैट होगा । रात की चाय एक टोकन है कुछ और वक़्त खरीदने के लिए… नींद की आगोश में जाने से पहले अगर रात थोड़ी और जी जा सके इसकी सम्भावना लिए हर चाय की प्याली आती है । भले ही देर रात गली नुक्कड़ पर बिकने वाली चाय हो या घर में देर रात बनाई हुई मेरी कॉफ़ी । ये सभी एक टोकन हैं, जो मुझे थोड़ी और देर जगाने में मदद करते हैं । मुझे रात पसंद है, रात में बाहर निकलो तो ऐसा लगता है आसमान मानों एक बड़ा सा तंबू तना हो और टिमटिमाते तारे ऐसे जैसे उस तंबू में लगी छोटी छोटी लाइट्स, और रात के इस वक़्त इस तम्बू के नीचे चल रही बहुत सी कहानियों को थोड़ा ठहराव मिलता दीखता है… एक कहानी शुरू होकर अपने एक मोड तक आती दिखती है, जैसे दिन के पाँव दुःख गए हो और वो रात के पीछे छुप कर थोड़ी देर आराम करना चाहता हो । मुझे यह सब देखना बहुत पसंद है, अलग अलग किरदारों को देखना, उनको गढ़ना, उनके बारे मे सोचना ये सब उसी तंबू के तले होते हैं | मैं रात में सोना बस मजबूरी से करता हूँ। मैं कभी अपनी छत पर बैठे बैठे पूरी रात, रात के साथ सफर करना चाहता हूँ, तब तक, जब तक रात सरकते-सरकते सुबह ना बन जाये… पर ऐसा मुमकिन नहीं हो पाता । पर मेरी कॉफ़ी का मग या प्याली की चाय मुझे कुछ और देर जागने में मदद करते हैं , इसके लिए मैं उनका शुक्रगुज़ार हूँ । मेरे लिए दिन और रात के अलग अलग वक़्त पर गटके गए प्यालों का अलग अलग मतलब है ।

खैर अभी अभी बाहर से आया हूँ , आज कोई चायवाला नहीं मिला । मैं अनायास ही लगभग तीन किलोमीटर का सफर कर के खाली हाथ वापस आ गया । रसोई में जाकर देखा तो थोड़ा दूध बचा हुआ था … जैसे मेरे लिए ही छोड़ा गया हो । रात के एक बज रहे हैं … और मैं अपनी कॉफ़ी बना रहा हूँ ।

- Neeraj Pandey


When I got this mail, I was going through a "lack of ideas" spell. Neeraj's mail gave me an idea to adapt his piece in my way. This is what I replied.

Have you heard about those mad writers? The ones who are up at insane hours creating people, giving them quirks , making up a world? Have you heard how writers run on coffee? Well we don't run on coffee but then there are these moments ... When all you want is a wonderful cup of tea or coffee in that tiny little tumbler. I like the feel of that thin glass against my fingers and most of all, I love the coziness of the first sip. To me, it feels like a warm hug from a best friend. A cup of tea is a wonderful companion -- to a loner, who likes her thoughts flavored with a delicious sip of warmth or to an awkward couple who are too nervous to talk, but might break ice with a simple statement of ,"would you like a cup of tea?"

Here in Bangalore, people sell tea or coffee stand in a small corner. Usually, they also sell cigarettes and biscuits -- the best friends to a cup of a tea. Sometimes, I like to go out in the late hours. I like to buy my cup of tea and sip it in the silence of the night. I like nights. I like the stillness, the calm. I like it how the night falls, without us really noticing it. But she just takes over,allowing us to sit back and to sigh or smile about the day. She lets us be, unlike the day time who demands that we go out there dressed to the tee, win our victories and fight our fights. I like to see an empty street of the night. More often than not, I see a story lurking around the corner of a street. I like to hear snatches of people's conversation. I like to get a glimpse of their lives. When I walk down an empty street and see a house with its lights on, I wonder -- is there someone like me in there? What keeps someone awake so late? I have my reasons -- I am sure they do too.

I have just come back from such a walk. Today, there was no one standing in a corner, selling tea on a barely noticeable cycle. So I make my own cup. It might not have the exact same taste, the exact same sweetness but I am sure, when the tea goes in , in the form of a few tiny relaxed sip, the warmth will be the same.





Thanks to this guy, I could finally write -- after ages! I could move my fingers , flex my creative muscles. Thank you Neeraj! I hope to do this more often!

To New Beginnings ....

In his autobiography, Open, Andre Agassi talks about how every time he would try to run behind perfection in every shot, he would lose the match. He needed to stop being perfect. Reading this portion was an epiphany of sorts for me. " ...and that is why I have stopped writing!" I told myself --Because I tried too hard to be perfect , in my head! That is why I had abandoned this blog. I was scared of coming here and seeing what I had written over all these years. This blog has been my companion, letting me record everything that happens in my life. I cannot let a stupid wish like wanting to be perfect take away the relationship I have with this blog.

New year brought a whole new angle to my life. I am traveling tonight to the US of A. Am I excited? Sort of. Am I scared -- very! But as usual, I don't know what to anticipate. I know there are a lot of my colleagues. I know I am not going to a strange land but here is the deal. I want my own experience. The day it was known that I might be traveling soon, my colleagues have been filling me in with a lot of their experiences. You should go here, you should go there -- go to the mall of America, go to that Indian store. I nod every time someone tells me something. I imagine myself being there, I live their memories with them. I am thankful at the end of the conversation for making the place seem a little more familiar to me. But eventually, I want to form my own opinions and make my own memories-- which I inevitably will. I will leave home at 10:00 and will be flying the whole day tomorrow. It is going to be a first of everything. First international travel, first time boarding international planes (I will be changing 3 planes for my route) and first time stepping out of India. In my head, I have lived this moment too many times to count. I have stepped outside my house, I have locked my gate and I have felt my heartbeat go up and stomach do a flip, on the prospect of traveling international. The only difference was -- in my head, I was going backpacking through Europe. As of now, I am going to Minneapolis on a shoe string budget, where I will count and calculate, multiply everything with 60 before deciding to buy anything, where I will have to cook my on food because I am a vegetarian and where I will be colder than Anaa was, when she leaves for a journey to find Elsa.

I hope to come back with a bagful of experiences (good ones), memories (good ones too) and stories -- little, big, funny, happy , good stories , to share on this blog, to share them with my friends and I hope to be traveling more often. The next time I open this blog, I will be in a different country, in a different time zone and God knows what frame of mind.

Hoping for the best ... Let there be lots of love in this world!