Sunday, December 17, 2006

The Public Movie-Going Experience

Today, we went and saw Casino Royale at Fun Republic in Ahmedabad (sue me!). A good movie, but then this isn't a film review; it's an experience review. The public was downright blaise, a bunch of insensitive louts who talked and joked loudly and left their phones on. It's unbelievable how we have so much more money now, but so much less culture. Money may not buy love (debatable), but it sure as hell does not buy etiquette. Throw into the equation the fact that the theatre works on its own principles and not on yours, and you figure out why consumption of entertainment in personal spaces (jargon) is picking up like it's going out of style.

On an aside, it ought to be easier to blog on the move.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

News Flash

I'm sitting. It's very, very still. There is no sign of life. It is as though time has stood still. Not a leaf is quivering. Not a whisper of a breeze. Not a cloud in the sky. Mammals are completely absent. The music crashes and explodes into the serenity. For the trained ear, this is nothing out of the normal. For the third eye, it is an aberrant, something that ought to be obliterated. But then, the third eye never was a part of the life of the trained ear. It was a union that was sought by the trained ear but was shunned by the third eye. Now the trained ear has learnt to go the distance alone, to wing it. The third eye, that was once so important to please for the trained ear, is now worth no more than a mere thought.

"So will you please FUCK OFF?" - Stillwater band manager Dick in Almost Famous

Friday, November 24, 2006

Brand-dick-tionary

I would like to solemnly thank Ms. Sarika Chuni, a fellow sufferer archetype in Brand Land, for this collaborative effort.

Brand Masturbation: Excessive stroking of the brand leading to the loss of its core contents, thereby forcing the brand to "go soft"

Brand Gyration: The rollicking motion a brand goes through when deciding upon which consumer mindspace to occupy

Sideshow Brand: The lesser-known third brother from "The Simpsons" (Sideshow Bob and Sideshow Mel) who went into management

Brand Bang: Many brands banging/fighting for the same consumer mindspace

Thong Brand: An unethical brand that pays off necessary parties just the right amounts so
as to cover its arse

Brand Playmates: 2 or more brands that collude and create a collaborative effort/output
for the pleasure of the consumer.
E.g.: Clinic All Clear and Yamaha Motors were Brand Playmates in the campaign that featured the common brand ambassador John Abraham

Sunday, November 19, 2006

How The Mighty Fall

He walked with his head in the clouds
Walked with kings and Gods
With his best friends by his side
He looked infallible and happy
Then he coveted "thy neighbour's wife"
And acted upon her reciprocation
Stabbing his best friend in the back
Brutus to a Caeser
He went into a self-imposed exile
Imposed by those he called his own
And by those who called him theirs
Expelled by his kith and kin of choice
With only his neighbour's wife by his side
With his reputation lost and her disrepute gained
With his face grounded like an ostrich's
He puts up a brave front
Knowing fully well that another neighbour is around
The disrepute has a reputation
That will be lived up to

Friday, November 10, 2006

My Shadow And I

I see my shadow stretching out in front of me
Infinite like the Daddy Long Legs that I am
Existent because of the light source behind me
A frizzly mop topping a stick frame
But what is worrisome is not my shadow
But what lies beside it - nothing
Vast expanses flanking either side of my shadow
In a world it was never meant to be in
Never wanted to be in
And as my shadow slowly slinks into the darkness
That lies ahead on my path, my future
I crave for the smile, the kiss,
The real love that only a significant other can give

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Early Morning Wake Up Call

I hadn't slept all night
Yet I had the perfect start to the day
With the sun peeking out of
Its brilliant moon-lit black blanket
When the duty of an early morning wake up call
Revealed to me in a sudden moment of inspiration
The most breath-taking vision of beauty
Radiating in the glow of sleep
In her most vulnerable moment of truth
With all her guards and inhibitions down
She revealed to me almost inadvertently
Her most glorious and beautiful side
I was thunderstruck
Knocked senseless
Rooted to the ground in stunned reverence
At the justice of nature
There is poetry in the world after all

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Closing Chapters

It's hard to close chapters and keep them closed, even if you are the one who initiated the closing. Some chapters just refuse to get closed. Why? Is it because the chapter's not finished and you are attempting to close it prematurely? Or is it because somebody else has opened the chapter that you have not yet been able to close? So many philosophies and only one reality: the chapter that I/we was/were once scripting is now being scripted by somebody else. And although he may be writing in a different way and has not taken my place, I am sure (atleast I still remain unique), the truth is he/they are now scripting the chapter left unfinished by me. I ought to have finished that chapter. Now I repent.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Counter Strike

I "discovered" this game today. Counter Strike Condition Zero. Yeah, I know all you CS addicts out there will be holding your sides and laughing till you lock your jaws. But, you see, I ain't the computer gaming kind, and when I am, it's sports/racing. Definitely not RPG/first player shootouts. But CS has ensnared me. I want to keep playing it. I'm so excited I can barely contain myself. Now, if you'll excuse me, Havana (one of my favourite cities, thanks to Che) needs rescuing.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Sitting Alone

Remember this one episode of Frasier where he goes to meet this woman (hot, but of course) for dinner and she needs to run somewhere and so can't have dinner with him? Well, dear Dr. Crane ("I'm listening") decides to eat alone since he is already here and the restaurant is good. Soon after, a little boy runs up to Frasier and tells him that his parents wanted to know if Frasier would like to join them since he was all alone.

Have you ever tried sitting alone at a cafe or a restaurant? Try escaping the pitiful looks or the suspicious furtive glances or the wide-eyed stares. A pub is an exception though. It's almost as if you are supposed to go drink at a pub alone, drowning in your thoughts and your sorrows in a haze of alcohol. The same however cannot be applicable to a respectable family joint like a cafe or a restaurant. And if you ever sit alone in a hostel mess where everybody, forget knows you, even knows at what time you went to the bathroom that morning, then you can be sure to wave any chance of a peaceful quiet meal goodbye. For cryin' out loud, maybe I want to sit alone. Maybe I just want to sit with myself and my thoughts. And maybe I'm not really alone, I might be schizophrenic. The only thing that might save you is a book or a laptop. So always ensure to carry one around, just to appear busy at the very least.

Film - Film - Film - Film

A film is a film is a film, is a film. Right? So if you've seen a film once, chances are you would prefer not to repeat it, unless it was a film that blew you away. Right?

Wrong! You ought to watch whatever film you can lay your hands on, even if you've seen them before. The full force of this realisation hit me yesterday when I saw four, that's right, count 'em, four different films, strategically enough, after every meal (tea is a meal, you know). October 1917 by Sergei Eisenstein, Casablanca by Michael Curtiz, Happy Together by Wong Kar-Wai, and Pirates of the Carribean: The Curse of the Black Pearl by Some Random Arbid Director, in exactly that order. Now, the fourth film is the one that showed me the light (it's always the last one, isn't it?). If I had seen Pirates... a year and a half ago, I would have lapped it up. Not so yesterday. I still liked the film, extremely watchable, but I've been seeing international cinema for over a year now, and those expanded horizons showed the film to be exactly what it was - extremely commercial with a lot of audience-pleasing scenes, rampant use of special effects and oft-repeated dialogues for good measure ("The code is more like a bunch of guidelines, not rules" or something to that effect). That was to an extent true even with Casablanca ("Here's looking at you, kid!"). That would explain why six, yes six, of the top one hundred most memorable movie lines come from Casablanca.

Right, so I guess what I'm trying to say is, screw everything, watch films. I find international cinema or world cinema works best, but others might also do the trick. Basically I'm getting bored of writing this blog post, so I'm ending it rather abruptly.

Monday, September 04, 2006

TUNO

The Unlike No Ones had their big comeback gig on Sept 1. A nice long one hour gig. As is wont with such big occassions, things went awry. We started like a true rock act - late. And there weren't too many people around, not the kind of numbers we had expected. But the guys who did stick around were treated to one heck of a show, I am sure. We have really improved as a band (and there are people who will vouch for our suckiness last year). On a more personal note, my drumming has improved exponentially, I believe. Really proud of "Mr. Peddler", I love that song. And now, it's time to conquer the country through all the B-school fests and other competitions, and then the world.

And spring cleaning always seems to happen on the guy's day off.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

MLS - My Life's Slept

The light shines and bounces off
The voice drones on
Increasing gibberish
Cradling the listening people

History is a mystery, an enigma
That cannot be deciphered
A cynical old fool
Beaten by the realities of life
Faces the harsh ravages
Of a gladiatorial contest

A suitcase full of
‘The West is the best’
We need to reinvent the wheel
So that we can use it

Anger is rising inside me
Like a swollen tide
Wishing to engulf and obliterate
The bourgeois proletariat

Friday, August 25, 2006

Go Red

The dirt and grime streaks my face
The hot wind ruffles my hair
I’m lugging my six-string
I’m living on the fringe

The clink of glasses is a lure
So I push open the door
Silence, suspicious silence
It’s the other side of the fence

My life has been well-fed
But I no longer pay the fare
Let’s all go red
Money is not the only care
Go red
Learn to share
Go red
How and where
Can I go red?

I swagger to the bar-stool
Ask for a shot in a dirty glass
Light one, looking cool
My show is just a farce

I lean back on the bar
Nursing my drink
So near, yet so far
These are not my kin

I have been led
Astray Oh
My mama always said
Go home
So I’m going red
Back to the loam
Go red
Let’s not roam
Go red
Justice in a poem
Go red

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Leisure Time

I am a man of leisure. Looking at my lifestyle over the last week or so, somebody commented that I live a semi-retired life, what with my private balcony where I put up my feet while relaxing in an exquisitely cushioned chair with nothing but the best international artistes caressing my ears to the tune of the soft radiant glow emmited by my beautiful floor lamp, and the burden of work doing nothing more than a light wrinkle on the garment covering my shoulder. People who know me however would argue that this is how I've been living for the last couple of months now, so what makes the last week any different. What makes it different, my good man, is that I have just improved on perfection - my last week was even more leisurely than ever, with no commitments even that had to be fulfilled.

Also, my personal computing device, colloquially and possibly globally referred to as a laptop, decided to take a little stroll in the finely manicured lawns of my campus and checked out. Left with nothing to do and with nothingness stretching out infinitely in front of me, I did what any self-effacing man of leisure would have conspired to do, especially so with men of leisure on the sandy beaches of Australia - I bummed around. Simply dashing it was!

My lady love returned from her visit home during these leisurely days of mine, so I managed to get in some quality bumming around time with her.

Well, I'm sure you have some pressing appointment for which you probably need to rush (tch tch), so if you'll allow me, I'll show you to the door, adjust my silk robe specially designed so that men of leisure like myself can bum around in style, and get back to my cushions and fine water.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Forlorn Melancholic Strains

An extra long weekend, almost like a vacation. Most people would salivate at the very thought, but it also has its fallouts, on a more personal level though. My baby left for home today, gone for 4 whole days. I'm already starting to miss her and that probably explains my moodiness and being in the dumps today. I have no place to sleep, nobody to go to and whine, no British accent. The only consolation, the only bright spot is that I get to see her in 2 days because I'm going over to her home city for entirely different reasons. The band needs to buy brand spanking new equipment and what do you know, it's in the same city. Yay!

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Some Sound

Im sitting here with a rhythmic headache, guiltily aware of my negligence with my blog posting frequency. I've been contemplating over the last couple of days about writing another post. I wanted to write one on 'Memories'. I even started it, but discarded it almost immediately. It's just too tough to think when you have a throb in your head. Oh, for a drink!

There's been this weird buzzing noise that's been emanating from somewhere above my head, but I just can't seem to figure out where from. It's starting to drive me crazy.

Monday, July 31, 2006

Thatha

When I was 14, my grandfather died. He was my favourite grandparent. I have never quite been able to get over that loss at such a young age, rather choosing to push everything related to that to some deep inaccessible corner of my mind. I was at an age where I was just starting to create memories that I would be able to remember. I still wish that he were around today so that I would have had many more memories than the precious few I am forced to desperately cling on to. And as time passes, there arises the danger of memories of events that never happened being created, in other words, falsified memories. Memories are the only means by which I can hold on my Thatha, even though I let him go peacefully nearly 8 years ago. I don't want them lying to me.

I love you Thatha, and I miss you terribly. I only hope that I have turned out as the good grandson you loved. I want you to be proud of me.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

The Morning After

It's the morning after the party. I wake up feeling a slight throbbing on the left side of my head. I don't want to get up, partly because I have no energy and partly because of the breathing form that's sleeping peacefully beside me. Memories of last night come flooding back to me. I redefined 'wasted'. After dillying and dallying, hemming and hawing, whispering and giggling, we finally arise to catch the last gasps of breakfast, unimaginable a few hours ago. I sway like a flickering flame, remnants of last night's exploits. I see visions of leisure.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Led Zep In The Morning

I awoke early today and I flipped a Led Zep (IV) cassette into the player. You have no idea how awesome it is to be listening to Led Zep early in the cool morning breeze while the rest of the world (or your hostel atleast) sleeps blissfully unaware of the rising sun and the broadening daylight. If you haven't tried it before (the Led Zep bit, not the sleeping blissfully unaware bit which I'm sure we've all done at some point or other), then I strongly recommend it. And now, back to some Bonham.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Conversation No. 3

We walked out the gate
Ambling down to the canal
Stopped and took in
The breath-taking beauty

The bright full moon in between the clouds
Throwing light on near acquaintances
On that little bridge we began
Our conversation no. 3

We talked about everything under the moon
Looked up and took pictures of the moon
After a second of eternity
We made our way back

I laid bare my soul
Told her my heart
She accepted it
Like only a friend could

Our secret spot awaited us
For us to continue our conversation
Past our beloved unnamed tree
We climbed the stairs to bliss

We sat ourselves on the wall
She succeeded after a few tries
But she cleared my mind on the first try
Made my heart a lot lighter

Its time to leave now
We sneak our way through back alleys
Always having fun
We talk some more

We share our first hug
A big step for touch phobic me
I walk back home
After 3 magical hours

When I’m with her
I have a silly grin on my face
After conversation no.3

I realize I love this woman

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Early Morning Ramblings

It's nearly 4 in the morning (or at night?). I have no classes for the next couple of days. I'm sitting here listening to some random songs shuffling themselves on my playlist because it feels like a crime to go to bed this early (or this late?). I'm so sure I'm going to miss breakfast in the morning and I'm not too sure if I should make the effort. The friendly neighbourhood hunger is starting to make its presence felt and I'm currently trying to satiate it with water. I'm currently in that surreal state between wakey-wakey and sleepy-sleepy when things either make no sense or make perfect sense. Black and white, no greys. It's too much effort to attempt a grey and I'm content letting my senses wander imagining the impossible. What about pink elephants and purple rabbits? Happy child.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Musings

If I could trap time in an hour glass
If I could hold the world in the palm of my hand
If I could tuck eternity into my pocket
When oak leaves sweep across a cold, misty morning in an English countryside
With the dew glistening on the early morning grass
A worm crawls out of his pint-sized home in the ground blinking in the bright morning sunlight
But an early bird, living up to its proverbial status, cuts the worm's early morning sojourn short

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Human Companionship

Remember those moments when you have absolutely craved for human companionship, when you have felt so lonely that you could cry but saw no point in it because there was no shoulder to cry on?

In today’s technology rich age, we find it very easy to substitute actual living breathing human beings with mere creations of the ever effervescent human mind. The television, the computer and its myriad forms and vices, the mobile phone and its predecessor the telephone, along with the variety of innovations that are fighting to occupy our mind space, replacing you and me. These creations make us believe that there are people out there for us, trying all the time to make up for the loneliness of a destitute life. However, an absence of these products for even a short while makes us reflect upon our lives and cringe at how solitary it really is.

What is it about the physical presence of another person in an intimate manner, even emotionally, that stirs up the butterflies in the vacuum that is created in the pits of our stomachs, makes us swoon and go weak at the knees in the most primitive of fashions? Let me hazard a guess.

Her graceful movements as she walks, the whiff of her scent that tingles your nostrils and quivers your nerves, the way she absent-mindedly twirls her hair, the way she looks right through you when she’s thinking of you, the smile that plays around the corner on her lips as she shares a private joke with you in a public forum, the expressions that dance around in her eyes as she looks at you meaningfully convey more than any work of literature ever could, the way she looks up at you trustingly with her big round eyes that are about as limpid as a rough sea and are constantly darting around searching for the slightest hint of a reflection of her feelings for you. She knows she hasn’t made a mistake. She wants to know if you have. If you have noticed the above, chances are you haven’t. She might be just a friend, but by Jove, you’re in love with her!

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Inspired

Whenever I write poetry especially, I take in my surroundings, absorb my "lifetime research" and then write poetry/prose suitably inspired. This time around, it is no different.

Life is standing still
Not a leaf is quivering
A beaming girl on a rubber swing
Provides the only interplay of shadows

A pyromaniac on the side
With dangling silver jangling
Entranced by the pretty lights
Is busy beautifying the world

And as the lazy smoke rises ever so slowly
Clouding our world and clearing our minds
The contagious smile infects us all
Ridding the world of the disease of importance

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Power Causes Hypocrisy

Theoretically, you are against abuse of power, especially if that power has at some point of time been used against you, you have experienced it. Theoretically. If the tables were turned, I'm willing to bet my bottom that you would abuse that power too, no matter what has been said before. Even if you do not go the extent of abusing, you would atleast use the power to your advantage. Practising your preachings! Ah, how tough it is, to put your money where your mouth is.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Rain & Coffee

This is a poem that I wrote while sitting one evening at Java City. It was raining outside and was positively beautiful. I haven't named this poem, but then thoughts and feelings never did need a name.

The rain's coming down
It's cold outside
I'm sitting in a cafe
'Coz I have no ride

I'm having a cigarette
With a coffee on the side
I'm penning down my thoughts
'Coz I got nowhere else to hide

I'm with myself
Alone, but not lonely
People come and people go
But none whom I have seen

A sea of strangers
Touched by the rain
They're all smiling
To hide their everyday pain

Rain brings together people
Under a common roof
Mere acquaintances
Can no longer be aloof

The rain's stopped now
The road's lively again
We can all go back now
To pretending to be sane

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Man Without An Identity

There once was a man
Who lived in a global village
He was raised in a foreign land
Alien to his past ages

Then the flux came
And he found himself
In the middle of a rat race
Among the giants, an elf

They asked him if he knew
His mother tongue
And he said ‘no’
For he did not study it

They asked him if he knew
The language of his land
And he said ‘no’
He knew only the global language

They threw him out
They spat at him
All in their minds
Their words, their actions

The man cried and he cried
But they would not listen to his pleas
For he was not a man
But a man without an identity

Friday, June 16, 2006

Fear

Is fear a good thing? I'm not talking about the George W. Bush or the government or even the media kind of fear infusing tactics. I'm talking about an innate fear that abounds within all of us. Fear of the dark, fear of the unknown, fear of becoming impotent, fear of becoming fat, fear of being anorexic, fear of losing hair, fear of getting fired, etc, etc. Is that what keeps us going? Is that what makes us strive to seek an improvement within ourselves? Is the constant process of bettering ourselves, an exercise that I hope all of us are doing, fuelled by fear? So that means that a whole range of products, maybe even entire categories, like hair care products, are driven by fear. This in turn translates to our final conclusion. The growth of the economy is driven by fear. Hence, the more people that are more afraid, the faster and larger will grow the economy. Hmmm...interesting, what say?

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Virgin Of Truth

Lies and deceit
Surround the profane
It’s no small feat
To stay sane

Two timing
Back stabbing
Nobody here
Is a virgin

And then she came
Like a breath of fresh air
A sight for sore eyes
The answer to my prayer

She’s a virgin
Clean and pure
She’s a virgin
A virgin of truth
She’s a virgin
My only cure
She’s a virgin

Sunshine in her hair
The future in her eyes
Your life in her hands
A virgin of truth

And you depend on her
As if she’s the only one
In the world for you
And vice versa

It’s all just a dream now
A mirage, an illusion
As my world crumbles around me
You’re my only virgin

Monday, June 12, 2006

For TM

As you stand on the pedestal I had put you on
Looking down on me and smiling ever so benignly
With your long tresses flowing in the light breeze
And the sun providing you an aura of womanness
Towering like the victorious Greek goddess that you are
I am overcome with an infinite urge
To fall at your feet and to worship you
To love you and to serve you
Till my last breath

Vicious Circle

I don’t see the point in getting up
I know it’s going to be the wrong side of the bed
But I drag myself out
It’s time to live my vicious circle

The same smiling faces
All smiling assassins
Fake laughing with you one moment
And making you cry the next

Day in and day out
From tying shoelaces
To combing falling hair
It’s time to live the vicious circle

You know you don’t belong
You don’t want to, don’t need to
But you’re pulled into this swirling mass
Of surrealism and pseudo air-kisses

The pollution and the populace
It’s the same story all over again
Feel like you’re life ain’t going anywhere?
You know you don’t belong
You don’t want to, don’t need to
But it’s time to live the vicious circle

Day in and day out
It’s the same story all over again
It’s got its vice-like grip on you
It’s called the vicious circle

Escape?

I’ve hit the sack, my eyes have closed, but I can’t sleep. Sleep. I need to sleep, it is a part of my schedule, but my mind refuses to switch off. Everything is locked up in my mind forever because there is no key. Am I going insane?

Why do I blame myself for everything? Why do I accept responsibility, partly or wholly, for somebody else’s sins even though I had nothing to do with them? Why can’t I just learn to accept and move on? Does change really happen? Is change worth the mental ordeal and trauma? Utopia does not exist except in our heads. Accept it and move on. Never strive for it.

A man can never run away from his thoughts. He can never escape. He is always held prisoner for life by his mind, and there is nothing he can do about it, no one he can turn to except for temporary solace and succour. He is doomed. I am doomed. We all are doomed.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Indian Bones And The Traffic Of Doom

That was the name of an article I had written during my freelancing days. However, that was not how it got published. Check out the link. I just realised I had it.

http://www.deccanherald.com/deccanherald/july012004/metro4.asp

Thursday, June 08, 2006

My Helpless Life

This is a slightly older poem. See if you can relate to it.

My Helpless Life

Here I am,
with nothing to do;
out the window,
my brain just flew.
I stare at the wall -
that's 'cause
I know nothing at all.
My friends around me,
they talk away,
but only to the music
will I sway.
The system is in,
it rules our lives;
blood has spilt
on the steely knives.
Is our leader
really our leader?
Or is he just a
monstrotic child-beater?
I see my life
flash before my eyes;
my soulish spirit,
by force it dies

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

An Ode To Nature

This is a poem I wrote a few years ago. I still regard it as one of the best works I have ever produced. It's my favourite.

An Ode To Nature

I step out
The wind gently pats my cheek
The soft rain slowly moistens my hair
I look up
The rain gently washes my eyelids
And hangs off my lashes
Like dew drops glistening in the early morning sun
I walk around
Sucking in large lungfuls of beautiful, quiet air
Purified by the love of Mother Nature
My fellow-beings are long gone
They do not appreciate your splendour
But I do
I appreciate every single nuance you enrich this world with
Every single smell you have to offer
Every nook, every cranny
I appreciate you, Mother
Every movement you make
Every noise you whisper
Every leaf you tingle
Every puddle you ripple
Leaves me with an intoxicating feeling of freshness
In a moment's inspiration
I have worded my feelings
In actuality though
I have worded your grandeur
I have worded your glorious past
Your breath-taking present
Your eternal future
I have worded you, Mother Nature

'Twas The Beginning

I have succumbed, finally capitulated to the lure.

You will all now be subject to opinionated views on matters, worldly or otherwise.

So keep reading...