stuff

Once upon a PM

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It’s laughable. Utterly ridiculous.

Scam after scam has defined this PM. Otherwise touted to be one of the most intellectual PMs of India, one of the ‘honest ones’ out there, he’s brought nothing but shame and inefficacy.

Hard to believe that he’s the one credited with bringing a positive change to India, once as a minister.

Change?Yes.

He’s made corruption a staple; endemic for a change. A PM who has allowed scams to pop up like pop-corns and he a pop corn vendor. A PM who hardly appears in public, who seems to be the very embodiment of a Kumbhkarna in perpetual slumber. Let the nation shake out of its roots – thou shalt not be perturbed.

So what does the PM do? I wonder. He certainly doesn’t take responsibility for his Team of The Corrupt, that’s for sure.

He’s The One Who Evades. The PM doesn’t see the need to talk to the nation on most important matters concerning the nation. And when he does ineffectively and feebly talk, it’s mostly the last moment face saving farce of an exercise which is too late. By that time the supreme court, the civilians, the media, the social activists … everyone’s given up on him.

You know what … a leader knows his team very well. So it’s highly improbable that the Leader of the Team of The Corrupt didn’t know what’s going on. Unless he didn’t want to know. Unless he was (a part of) The Team of The Corrupt.

However no one really talks about the PM. Is the PM above reproach? Is he Mr Integrity personified?

Intellectual?
Rethink.

Honest?
Rethink.

I used to believe that generally intellectual guys are honest.
Rethink.

Capable?
No need on that one.

life, philosophy

Ten Little Things

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You learn
You play
You unplay
Unlearn
Start again
Stop again
And start again
Stop again

And one day, you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll breakdown

Ten little things written on a paper
Ten little things that really really matter
Ten other things push you away
Ten little things…
You’ll need You to pull it your way…

And one day, you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll breakdown

Ten little things written on a paper
Ten little things that really really matter
Ten other things push you away
You’ll need You to pull it your way…

Else one day you’ll all breakdown
One day, Should you really breakdown?
Should you really breakdown?

Life’s one
Have fun
Give it a go
Best shots
Persist
But be wise
Persist
Don’t you die, Survive

Else one day you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll really breakdown

Those Ten little things written on a paper
Ten little things that really really matter
Ten little things that drag your life away
Ten little things
You’ll need You to tear it all away…

Else one day, you’ll all breakdown
One day, you’ll all breakdown

stuff

My garden plants … for when I travel!

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This automatic watering globe thing purchased from watermyplants.in

 
 

Pretty well thus far. Plants are watered appropriately and healthy when I come back. Have had 2 trips greater than a week. Max water test lasted for @ 12 days. Good product. No complaints!

So plant care and watering stress during vacation taken care of!

stuff

Cricket forecasts

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Well, I miss my dad. Tonight has been India’s night at the world cup and he’s not with me – he’s somewhere in the tundra region (thanks to my sister and her uncanny sense of timing her first kid in the middle of a world cup).

Alas they have no access to the world cup telecast. If someone climbs on the roof to place a dish antenna, they say, the roof might come down – it’s a lovely old house, you see, and no risks to be taken with the baby, the doggy and the parents around!

When my sister, brother and I were old enough to understand cricket, we came to appreciate our dad’s cricketing insights – astrological forecasts. On every morning of the match, he would take out his panchaang and ask us for the name of the captains who were to compete that day.

This would follow with some obscure mumblings on the dashas of the planets with fingers charting trajectories in the air. Further down would follow abstract calculations based upon planetary positions of the competing countries and their captain’s names. We would be waiting with baited breaths to hear the winner’s name. Astrology, you see, foretold us the winner much before the match started!

He generally had a good scoring rate. Enough for us to brag to our friends about our deep foresights into the game.

Watching cricket together was fun. As the match progressed, he would be there with his usual quibs over cups of tea….’see I told you so’, ‘whatever they do, they’re not going to win’, etc. Mom would bring ‘garam garam pakodas’ and we would have a blast. Mom is an ardent cricket fan and she would always take a stand against astrology. Hence the ‘forecasted losing’ side would be her favorite, unless of course it’s an India match.

So the sides would be split and we would have a match going on right in the middle of our living room with occasional screams and whistles. Priti would keep on changing sides depending upon who’s winning and which players are better looking. I would be rooting for the weaker team. And Box – if the Indian bowlers didn’t bowl well, he’d be sure to pick up and bowl a couple of things in our living room – bouncers that we were expected to duck!

Seems cool as I look back; nostalgic. One lively, happy family!

So well… Tonight was the night. As I sat in my living room savoring the victory ‘alone’, I missed my parents. It also dawned upon me that years of moving from one place to another as per the whims of my career has really left a void in that ‘friendship space’. All my friends whom I could have invited are scattered all over. And then they are only a few. I am basically ‘friendless’ & where I am, there are none.

My dad also happens to be my best friend. I miss him.

life, philosophy

Just hang on

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When there’s nothin
Just hang on
When there’s somethin
Move along
Try to push it
With a happy song
YeahAll the long miles
Run along
All the while
Stay along
Try to push it
With a happy song
Yeah

Cos one day when the skies open up
The skies will see
Who’s been underneath
All the while, all along
Singing the same ol’ happy song
When there’s nothin
Just hang on
—

life, philosophy

Wisp of Air

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As I look out of the window
And see my home pass by
I realize that years have passed
Time has flown
There must be my marks in that house somewhere
There must be a wisp of my breath lingering
There must be some proof that I had once lived there
And that house was but my belonging
The street outside must have my footmarks
Certainly the marks of the cycle I rode
My school must still have my mischief in its corridors
And the garden where I played
Oh, the trees must recognize me surely

But I realize
There are new dwellers now
The home, the street, the school, the garden
Which I once called mine, are someone else’s now
For my marks were only temporal
I had no claim
The stay was short
Only the desire strong
In the scheme of things
I have moved on
I will move on
Guess, I’ll hardly be anywhere
But for a minutiae, a blip
And a lingering wisp of air…

life

The Mumbai Morning Muse

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This morning is a prized one for Mumbai – the rare mist, the rare cold on a winter Saturday.  I sit down with my regular cup of tea and an urge overwhelms me. I want to write something down asap. I fumble through my kid’s rack (for I have none) for a pen and a paper and end up with a blunt pencil and a paper. Sitting in the balcony I start writing… the muse has finally awakened after a long long time. And the mist isn’t going to last for long…

It’s 2010. And I’ve been constantly running after unfinished tasks – finding a better job, finding a house, gathering funds, defining & living up to my aspirations (which also includes writing), manage 2 kids and my wife who’s most helpful by the way – to the extent that she manages me! I gather all these thoughts as I go about writing.

The mist also has effects on the other, above mentioned members of my family. While at writing, my subconscious registers my wife dancing and the first little one, four year old, joining in… singing songs and dancing around the not so large 2 bedroom house in one of the suburbs of Mumbai. Our maid also joins the gang. The second little one, 6 month old, unfortunately cannot join the train-gang but his rather high decibel screams seem to register the general excitement in the air.

I am out in the tiny balcony focussed on my paper and pencil and the frolics in the house are a bit vague to me till I suddenly hear my name… “Pappa is taking us out for a stroll in the garden”.  I  anxiously look  in the direction of the living room… 3 pairs of eyes are looking at me, the 4th pair also  making an effort from his cot. There are expectations in the air…  expectations from a good husband, a good father, a good master and a good driver!

The muse goes back to sleep. The mist clears a bit. They seem to appreciate my other duties. I finish my second cup of tea and change for the occasion.

I have been prodded often by my better half  towards moving to a mountainous region, away from the city. “We’ll open up a hotel, a cottage and live amongst the mountains”. Somehow I have never taken it seriously;  I think am afraid that life will be too simple, too far from everything.

Now while driving I wonder if a hill station will be good for me. Will it constantly awaken my muse? Will I be able to write? Will I be able to love life more?

philosophy

Egos Abound!

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A bit abstract, but here goes…

As I look around, I see thousands of us moving on, about our little works, thinking on, and as we look around, expressing our importance or feeling an inherent, natural need to look relatively important, controlling, thus relatively powerful.

Why is such an ego appeasing need in us? What if we had no egos, no need to prove ourselves, no need to feel important – just going about the world doing our own little things, enabling others, and moving on with no requisite of proving ourselves over others?

And what does appeasement of our ego make us feel? Happy? Powerful?

After all it’s only subjective, relative and in one’s own sphere. There are infinite such spheres anyways in this universe, and there are infinite universes by themselves. So how powerful are we?.

Why can’t we just be? Just get on with being ourselves and that’s it. That the world exists is an external phenomenon anyways – why should it affect our intrinsic state of being?

Why do we have to have an external reference for ourselves?

life

At the speed of life!

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It’s strange. What used to happen in months and days now happen in seconds. The speed of communication has undergone a revolution, there are new tools to increase productivity, yet we continue to grasp for time. What explains this?

There’s not a pause, there’s always a ‘next’ or a ‘rather’. Frustrations abound. Does the base lie in a constant sense of dissatisfaction that the mankind lives in? There is no end to ‘more’. Now that there is speed and instant recognition, has the speed with which the wants are wished for also increased?

I would then believe that the more speedier things become, the more efficient things become, stress would further increase. There would be need for instant answers, instant results and instant gratification in a world of intense and instant possibilities.

Man would continue to pursue his desires, with even more speed. And it seems that he will never catch up. He will run till the very end, and if science has it’s way, even beyond!

stuff

Too late for the new Kites to fly

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Saw the hindi version of Kites. Didn’t like it. Found it amateurish and dragging.

Just saw the english version presented by Brett Ratner. Though the core remains and one could be affected, the film is crisp and could have augured well if the same edit would have been used for the hindi version. It certainly wouldn’t have received the bashing it so received.

For the english version I went to the theater on a thursday eve. For a capacity of 300, there were just 5 people in the theater, including my friend and I!

Hindi has had a 1 week lead. Too many negatives floating out there and the fall guy will  be the english version. Someone had advised releasing both versions together…to give viewers a choice. We feared cannibalization which also was justified in a commercial way, still is.

Had the hindi version received positive reviews a la 3 Idiots, would have the 1 week delayed release of the Brett Ratner version worked?

Or should we have just launched it all together. Let the audience have a choice? And risk cross-cannibalization?