tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49346008901017194772024-03-13T17:11:51.877-07:00Fantasiadjnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-80524626507305367942008-12-19T14:15:00.000-08:002008-12-19T14:26:10.217-08:00Honeymoon Travails...Part 1<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/SUwfWvnqnjI/AAAAAAAAAlI/kcJ45vnj3jo/s1600-h/IMG_0069.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281630938599169586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/SUwfWvnqnjI/AAAAAAAAAlI/kcJ45vnj3jo/s400/IMG_0069.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><p>Its been a long vacation…<br />Its been almost more than six months since I wrote…Its been too long since I introspected, is it?<br />Ah…marriage takes away your space for introspection you may say?<br />I doubt that as I sit by the window of the Holiday Inn watching the snowing Boston street on a lazy Friday noon…<br />Its something about the rain or the snow that tends to tickle your imagination, expand the dimension of time and pull you back to words.. Or is it effect of the English weather subconsciously ingrained in your head by those English lessons in the Indian classrooms that opened your doors to the wordy world ??<br />Hmm…later..<br />Lets get back to the topic…<br />Honeymoon can be a very good way of knowing your partner well as these are the first few days and for some, probably the last few when you actually get to spend some quality time together, alone. So, a lot of time and effort should be put in to the actual planning which needs to be done months in advance. I started planning the same around three months in advance and decided to go to North East basing it on the following considerations and logical assumptions(engineering mind at work!!!)..<br />-She probably wont like to go to south..The only places worth visiting in south are munaar, coorg, ooty…she being a southie herself may have already covered a few of these..I am neutral here..<br />-She wont like the sea.. Its June man…Its humid there…I am neutral here..<br />-She wont like to go for a videshi honeymoon…You go out of the country you will spend more time knowing about the country and their culture rather than your partner..Moreover, she wont like it if her husband ends up bankrupt after the whole episode..she will prefer security.. I am neutral…<br />-She probably wont like to go to Shimla and Manali… Everyone goes there..Doesnt suit my intellectual capability(Remember, Iam an MBA..innovation & imagination, you know!)…Although, I was neutral, as always…<br />So, considering all the above considerations, I, no..no(how dare I make decisions alone), we decided to go to North East and planned ten days around Darjeeling, Peling and Gangtok..<br />I however had a close friend from the college days who helped us with the planning and logistics…Both of us had a great time there although we had our own bit of adventure (getting caught in the Gorkha Janmukti Morcha bandh, driving with almost zero visibility in a dark stormy lonely night, sleeping at a petrol pump surrounded by dense dark forests of the Sikkim hills etc,etc).<br />Whereas Darjeeling is beautiful, crowded and a highly commercialised hill station, you will count the number of people you come across in the silent, serene hills of Peling.. Gangtok is just the perfect mix of both of the above…<br />Ah..when will it stop snowing??More, on how we planned around the ten days there, in the next post…Something across the road just fails to get off my mind..Need to check that out!!!<br /></p></div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-43525944927029372212008-05-01T10:14:00.000-07:002008-05-01T10:31:39.818-07:00The Wedding Planner...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/SBn-Xx3kw2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/wRV_Wdac5Cw/s1600-h/saree3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195463329625457506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/SBn-Xx3kw2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/wRV_Wdac5Cw/s400/saree3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><em>Tips..hmmm...STRATEGIES for saree shopping!!</em></div><br /><div align="justify">One's Wedding, I agree is a once-in-one's-lifetime event- <em>hopefully</em>.So as they say, one must be as lavish as possible - spending to an extent wherein it takes another six months of your life to clean up the mess that you made while being lavish - repaying those expensive loans and credits..<br />However, like every other important-thing-in-life-gone-wrong,the realization of having committed such excesses happens only after committing it. Other's experiences as usual dont teach much..And why not??<em>All the saints of the world are known to have learned from their own singular individual experiences...And who are We - just such negligible mortals!!<br /></em>But then, I too like all those saints would like to preach, teach and spread my knowledge to my not-so-fortunate brethren, as i continue gaining experience and knowledge slowly treading towards that altar of wisdom and dhoom(<em>letter 'h' here can be replaced as per your point of view and experiences after marriage)</em>...hmm...to the day of my wedding!!<br />My teachings are solely based on my logical inductions and inferences of own experiences..so I recommend the student to use his own discretion while accepting(rejecting) them..<br />The experience hot and ready for serving today is "Tips for Saree shopping?"The step-by-step guidelines are as under:<br />1) Decide on the minimum and maximum budget value for each saree you plan to buy based on the intended individual for whom its to be bought.<br />2) Announce that the complete shopping has to be necessarily completed on the same day as you may be busy on other days..<br />2) Make sure of the number of relatives who are goin to accompany youfor the shopping..You need to plan fairly high budgets for them accordingly..<br />3)The priorty and time spent on making choices should be proportional to the importance of the individual to you.for eg: Start the day with choosing the bride's wear and spend more time on it rather than on for some cousin from kodhamangalam..These come later on..<br />4) Now,you can consider visiting a number of shops..I would classify them into two types based on my experience: </div><br /><div align="justify">Type no.1 : Seemingly large multi-storeyed shop, huge collection, lots of space to move around,shop and choose especially while relaxing on tempting soft mattresses sprawled on floor..</div><br /><div align="justify">Type no.2 : Deceivingly small looking shop, multi-storeyed again!, decent collection,crowded with great service.<br />Now the best strategy would be to take the gang to visit the type 1 shop in the first half of the day and to the type 2 shop in the second half.The logic is quite simple, during the first half they being quite fresh and restless..are usually not happy with the collection, choose quite a little few and are eager to move on to the next shop.By the time the decision to move on to a different shop is made..its lunch time. You take them out for a grand lunch..feed them as if its your wedding party they are attending and then proceed them to shop of type 2. By the time you reach shop type 2 they are already heavy and relaxed.Also, remember this is not a shop with mattresses to rest one's tired ass andheavy tummy..So you know what happens next...exponential improvement in productivity..given the fact that there s a target to be finished in the allotted time i.e by the end of the day...And remember this is a smaller shop and hence comparatively inexpensive too..and so you are managing your bottomline too!!!Hai na patey ki baat??<br />P.S: Pl. note that the above strategy has been devised purely from the perspective of a desperate groom whose sole aim at the point of time is tosave his fast diminishing resources to the best possible extent....<br />For your info, those from Mumbai, type1 shop i took my folk to,was "Bharat kshetra" and type 2 "Silk Museum", both located at Dadar...</div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-6525797909813384552008-04-14T06:20:00.000-07:002008-04-14T06:47:38.847-07:00Death of a Dog....<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/SANdz5gwZoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/0LGNGm4f7SU/s1600-h/montsirlwp.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189094341853865602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/SANdz5gwZoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/0LGNGm4f7SU/s400/montsirlwp.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"> source of the image :www.appleblossomart.net<br /></span><div align="justify">He was a bundle of flesh and black fur when I stole him from the litter of eight, all comfortably snugged together and dozing under the shade of the jamun tree in the ajith's compound.The mother had probably gone out to look for food around..I managed to sneak, commit the crime and not get caught...<em>I was just not guilty..</em> </div><div align="justify"><br />He was still and did nt even whimper when i got him into my bedroom, hiding from mom- busy talking to the neighbour across the garden...Using an old T-shirt which i dished out from my cupboard, I made a warm bed for him, put him on it and patted him back to sleep...I pushed the make-shift bed with tipu- <em>thats what i decided i would call him...Names like "Bravo" sound so videshi na</em>- under our own cot hoping that mom would never ever notice..Everything went on perfectly as i could manage to smuggle in some milk into the bedroom and keep the pup engaged and content...</div><div align="justify">As was usual at ten thirty, we were all into bed..Trouble started at around quarter past twelve, when parents woke awake stratled by yelps from under the bed...Hell broke loose when they realized the source..Dad's four "chooral" hits on my calf and half an hour of tearful cajoling was all that was needed to convince them to allow me to keep Tipu...No cost benefit anlaysis or techno-economic feasibility report was needed here..<br />From then on, Tipu became the fifth member of our small family... </div><div align="justify"><br />Those days,we used to live in the defence colony quarters .The establishment had to be protected from the enemy air raids and was so camouflaged using a lush green forest cover and surrounding hills.Added to this, life as such was insulated from the outside fast paced world. So ironically though close to the metro, we lived a country life, breathing fresh air and relishing leisure...So we had this big garden around each house and a tiny scalable hill in the backyard which we used to explore every evening after school hours...We were a team of four..Four weeks into- Tipu became the latest member of our daily explorations.But as time passed we realized that it was us who were members of his explorations...An old water tank built by the British was his favourite exploratory lab. The huge tank although looking rusted to ruins, stood still strong, reflecting the strength of the British Engineering fundamentals.The name metaphored him so well, for he was a real bravo leading us to so many of those explorations through thick underbushes, narrow paths and some real dark scary structures.Such explorations usually do not yield anything tangible but to the explorersits just the thrill of discovering things new that drives them to it..Bushes, flowers, fruits,spiders,lizards, snakes, butterflies, animal skeletons and what all.... </div><div align="justify"><br />Months passed and whether any of us fell ill or had to change the routine Tipu never grew tired and made sure he never missed any of these explorations. </div><div align="justify"><br />It was on one such routine evening just before the summer was to start thathe broke his routine...He looked tired and clearly to be under some pain and enquiries to mom led to the fact that he had been avoiding food for the past two days..The neighbour who himself had a pet dog diagnosed it a result of worms and prescribed a tablet which we crushed and fed him with some rice which he ingested very unwantingly..The medicine started acting fast and seemed to tranquilize him. As usual he sat at my foot as i watched TV and slept.... </div><br /><div align="justify">He never woke up for his daily routine..</div><br /><div align="justify">We took him to the hills and buried him near the tank... </div><br /><div align="justify">It was different that night..</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">I think I heard Dad weep that night.. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div></div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-57938085429012746052008-03-09T01:02:00.000-08:002008-03-09T01:16:58.786-08:00A lone stand....<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R9OqW24UAZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/qrA91aLWKmc/s1600-h/180px-Electric_transmission_lines.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175667706444382610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R9OqW24UAZI/AAAAAAAAAHA/qrA91aLWKmc/s400/180px-Electric_transmission_lines.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><p align="justify">As I gaze out on to the barren misty fields through the tinted half-open glass window of the company bus,I somehow get this strange feeling of brotherhood and empathy with - as those tall posts carrying the eleven kv lines glide past my vision. Like tall knights, with limbs outstretched and carrying the weight of the ever tense thick strands,they stand braving the odds of the sun, wind and rain- <em>accepting all quietly, never complaining.</em></p><br /><br /><p align="justify"><br />In a larger sense most of our lives resemble those towering structures, i wonder?</p><br /><br /><p align="justify"><br />Like them, we too stand tall - braving it all - braving the <em>fury of nature, of time, the pressures of change,age & society.</em></p><br /><br /><p align="justify"><br />Like those knights with outstretched limbs, we stand carrying the weight of those invisible strands- what we call <em>"relationships"</em> - connecting us to others- <em>a few heavy and delicate while quite a many light, hollow and weak.</em></p><br /><br /><p align="justify"><br />Like them,powered by those strands, we too stand- <em>our existence forcefully defined by our relations.</em></p><br /><br /><p align="justify"><br />Like them,we too stand there <em>not alone, still lonely</em>.</p><br /><br /><p align="justify"><br />Like them, we too stand there <em>seen "through" and known by all, but understood by none</em>.</p></div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-34958963857548207332008-02-20T09:50:00.000-08:002008-02-20T09:56:30.763-08:00Random Sightings....<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R7xpK1WCrmI/AAAAAAAAAEo/4bwihoziqkI/s1600-h/clock.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169122107153624674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R7xpK1WCrmI/AAAAAAAAAEo/4bwihoziqkI/s400/clock.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">Billboard over the Powai-Knjrmarg flyover- </div><div align="justify"><br /><em>"Die while saving lives in a ship wreck and not for want of a seat belt" </em>-------Road Safety Drive<br /></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">Sticker on the rear of a car - </div><div align="justify"><br /><em>" Keep safe distance, I work for Fevicol"</em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><br /><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-5460015772727765262008-01-30T09:34:00.000-08:002008-01-30T09:59:22.582-08:00Spit on thy Grave!!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R6C68QonoHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/3fUBh8TQiI4/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161330717386842226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R6C68QonoHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/3fUBh8TQiI4/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R6C5vQonoGI/AAAAAAAAAAc/iSJcxNjM0HM/s1600-h/images.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div>What is one common thing between the dashing Jhonty (of the Rhodes fame), yadav ji- the local politician, mishra ji- the government official and shambudada - the auto rickshaw wallah?<br /><br />....yaaa...........thuuuu.......<br /><br />They all spit for no obvious reasons at times at the most public of the places.<br /><br />Spit : expel or eject (saliva or phlegm or sputum) from the mouth;<br />"The father of the victim spat at the alleged murderer"<br /><br />What is it that makes the country turn a blind eye to one of the most basic social mis-behaviour and a disease which carries a potential to carry and spread some of the worst contagious of the other diseases like TB , Hepitatis etc.?</div><br /><br /><div><br />A smoker in public is glared upon and treated with such disgust whereas a spitter is hardly even noticed, let alone challenged...<br />Now, then Which is more dangerous:<br />Passive smoking<br />Compulsive spitting<br /><br />One can see this phenomena repeatedly repeated at almost every other public place. Be it in building staircases, on railway platforms or bus stops or roads or even in public shared toilets...</div><br /><br /><div>Boss...whats it that u dont like abt ur own urine that makes u spit at it with disgust?- an act shamelessly performed by even the most educated of the senior officers in many organisations ..</div><br /><br /><div>Spitting while something awful(as ur own urine) is seen is like adding an awful more stuff to the already awful existence..huh..<br /><br />The government or the politicians would not like to get stricter on this as "they have to practice to a large extent what they preach", aint it?<br />Why is no government or non-govt organization ready to take up this cause while they were all gung-ho and loud when pushing for the public smoking ban?</div><br /><br /><div><br />Is it that they dont realize the ill-effects or is it something to do with the general national culture and unclean nature as such, the way they say usage of the "mild" term "bastards" as quite alright to the australian culture...<br /><br />Foren law----<br /><br />"Sec. 15-36. Spitting in public places.<br /><br /><br />It shall be unlawful for any person to expectorate or spit in or<br />upon any paved sidewalk or footpath of any public street or public<br />square in the city or in or upon any part of any public building<br />under the control of the city, or upon the floor, platform or steps<br />of any public vehicle carrying passengers for hire or upon the floor<br />of any depot, station or other common carrier, or upon the floor or<br />steps of any theater, store, factory or any building which is used<br />in common by the public, or upon the floor of any hall or office,<br />in any hotel or lodginghouse which is used in common by the guests<br />thereof. Violation of this section is declared to be a municipal<br />infraction. The penalty for violation shall be the sum of twenty-five<br />dollars ($25.00). (Code 1953, § 12.38; Ord. No. G-80-21, § 1, 7-17-80)"<br /><br />Desi View<br /><br />"A press note issued by the Kerala Government said spitting,<br />spitting of pan, blowing of the nose and sneezing without covering<br />the nose were harmful to the health of the public. Diseases such as<br />tuberculosis, influenza, pneumonia, chicken pox, diphtheria,<br />endemic fever and whooping cough were spread by phlegm and spit.<br /><br />The bacteria or virus of these diseases spread infection among the<br />people. Tourists viewed such unhealthy surroundings with revulsion,<br />it said. ""- <em>Just to appease the foreign tourists it seems..<br /></em><br />Hmpf..yaya..i know its no use cribbing at this stupid,disgusting, F#$%ing system...thuuuuuuu...</div></div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-652385906437167422007-12-09T00:42:00.000-08:002007-12-09T00:50:25.031-08:00The Bench.....<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R1usSPQQDOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8Ak_muGDXpw/s1600-h/roze.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141892828905868514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R1usSPQQDOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8Ak_muGDXpw/s320/roze.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LOBJc1wZWC8/R1ur5PQQDNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/-qgaVWu3R48/s1600-h/roze.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div>Another furtive glance at his Timex - the third time in the last five minutes.. an absent-minded unproductive look, a ritual which he believed would shorten those moments…those moments before he gets to see her…<br />He had never seen her although he had always felt her close during those long sweet late night pillow-conversations..<br />She would have been feeling the same- <em>he believed</em>…<br /><em>Six months is a pretty long time or is it?</em></div><em><br /><br /><div><br /></em></div>“ Creamish coloured churidhar with green florals running through” was her kiddish description of what she would be wearing for the day.<br />His eyes were fixated at the office gates and were continuously scanning with rapt attention, funneling and filtering the regular outflow…<br />They, his eyes did not fail him, neither did his thoughts. She looks every bit the same in his thoughts.<br />He raises his hands and winks at her.<br />She slowly walks towards him. Her hundred watt smile lights him up and relieves him of his uneasiness.<br />She doesn’t greet nor does he. <em>They have been too close all the time for all that.<br /></em>Slowly they walk on to the garden, they had decided earlier on…She hates restaurants..<br />He feels awkward at his inexperience…She looks confident…<br />She guides him to a bench at one end.. which happens to be the only one un-occupied then.<br /><br />“So what do you think of me?”<br />“What does that mean?”<br />“I mean do I look the same that you expected?”<br />“You know that I never expected anything, you idiot!!”…<em>Re-assurances, is it just the women who need them all the time??<br /></em>“Now.. now.. idiot again?”…<br />Casually she nudges his shoulders…her first touch..<br />Encouraged he pulls her to him, his fingers playing with her nails and his face sinking into the sweet aroma of her hair…<br />They just sit there silently communicating…his fingers tracing hers…talking to them…relishing those moments of togetherness…those few and only moments of the lifetime and companionship on the bench….<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:78%;">PS: Image source </span><a href="http://www.roze.us/"><span style="font-size:78%;">www.roze.us</span></a> </div></div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-43593227585251454972007-11-21T09:10:00.000-08:002007-11-21T09:13:56.450-08:00Now and Then..."...Jhalak dikhlaaja..ek baar aaja..."beamed the local music channel.. Himeshbhai's hugely popular,succesful and patented nasal rendition...<br />"Cut the crap out...Do you call this music?? Even Ginger sounds better.."<br /><em>Ginger is the name of our neighbour's dog.</em><br /><br />"But Dad, this is the most popular one topping the charts these days!!"<br />"Huh!!music and today's generation..Have they ever heard good music??Can they ever produce sensations like Rafisahab or hemant ji?? Can they ever bring soul into the music the way burman da or nayyar did? Those were the times.."<br />"Enough is enough dad!! I have heard you repeating these same lines umpteen number of times..Agreed that the music then was good, the music now is not bad either..Infact music can never be bad..."<br /><br />The exchange is quite common between generations in most of the families..<br /><br />CASE 1<br />Time changes, perspectives dont..<br />The above is a perfect example of the same 60's frame being used to to see 90's world...Black & white- the only colours...Purple & red -obscene..grey-not exists!!!<br /><br />But this I realized happens to be something most of us, irrespective of age can be found to be guilty of...<br />"My gosh!! You have put on so much weight since we met last time!!"...<br />Last time was during graduation 8 years back...<br /><br />Case 2<br />Time changes,perspectives too..Ever went back to your old school library or the assembly hall whose hugeness you used to rue about when in sixth grade??.. those so-much-to-explore hills in your old backyard??<br />The library although a bit shabby and small, still smells the best, aint it? Doesnt take much to go around your old backyard..but the mystcism of the old british-watertankand the freshness of eucalyptus scented breeze still enthralls you..aint it?<br /><br />Change in any form is often a surprise to most of us.. And accepted indifferently most of the times..A few of the times they are not ..These are mostly those better moments and instances in our life which we dont want to change..which we just want to capture and keep in a frame for forever...The presumption of something being best lingers on and themind happens to just close itself to any changes attempted on those...<br /><br />(<em>The above thoughts crossed my mind when I recently came across this lady- a play friend of mine during those kindergarten times..The perspective of the most beautiful and graceful lady that i had made of her during those infant days still lingers on and although she s put ona lot more weight and aint that bit beautiful now as claimed by others, she still happens to be few of the most beautiful women i ever came across..)</em>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-63256536700258463732007-10-30T10:56:00.000-07:002007-10-30T11:08:53.827-07:00No Smoking - A great smoke<div align="justify">Five minutes into the movie and it was decided that this would not work..not work with the major majority who define this democracy...the majority who define this system...the majority who define whats right and whats blasphemy....the majority who define whats art...the majority who define whats music..the majority who define whats pure and the majority who define whats base!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Seven minutes into it and it was decided we didnt care what the majority defined...neither could have the director!<br /><br />"No Smoking- a dissappointing fare...No smoking- dark & un-inspiring...a disaster from director of Black Friday....an arrogant venture...an over indulgence.." cried most of the taglines from the self proclaimed critics on newspapers,on news channels, on websites, on blogs..on almost every other popular media...Popular is the key here...popularly popular as to 'kabhi alvida na kehna' or 'laaga chunari mein daag'..<br /><br /><em>"Brilliant" is how the 'I' as in the unpopular minority defines this movie as..</em><br /><br />There were three kinds of 'popular' dissappointments here...<br />1) Disappointment arising out of expectation to see the movie as guide to the smokers to quit the habit.<br />2) Disappointment arising out of expectation to see a 'black friday' in the 'No smoking'.<br />3) Disappointment arising out of expectation to see another 'KANK'type show.<br /><br />...and three kinds of 'unpopular' surprises for the minority:<br />1) A very different and first-of-its-kind bollywood movie - reminds me of classics like 'Clockwork Orange' and 'Requiem of Dream'..<br />I still laugh and feel sorry for those popular souls who went on to watch "Kill Bill"for the action part...who could never look beyond and admire the style and the creativity.<br /><br />2)Who could expect such a neat work from Mr. abraham...his decision and that of the others' even to be a part of this unusual act raises their stature for sure..<br /><br />3)The movie is a real creative one and uses quite a few contemporary tricks like 'symbolism'and high levels of abstraction, leaving a lot on the part of the viewers to imagine. I was lucky enough to watch this in an almost empty hall...and with an almost empty mind..<br /><br />Many have criticised the director-Mr. Anurag and his work as self-indulgent, selfish and arrogant.. and the same many never understood Ayn Rand or Howard Roark....and the same many never understood any art to be solely the artists' perception- his pure selfish expression!!<br /><br /><em>The objective of this post is not to review the movie(me not qualified enough to do that)..The ojective is to make my like-minded unpopular brethren aware of the reality and not get carried away by the popular reviews...</em><br /><em><br /></em>Carry on Mr.Director coz your smoke's already addicted quite a few...</div>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-24623616561925171942007-10-25T11:04:00.000-07:002007-10-27T13:01:37.405-07:00..(continued)..WReckless Reckers wRecked the Reck…a bright red flash somewhere near the temporal…and then darkness followed by a long stagnating numbness…<br /><br />The effectiveness of the subsequent slaps follow the dipping marginal UTILITY curve...<br /><br /><em>For the knowledge of all those who have never had the experience of slapping or being slapped, let me assure you that the feeling is one of the dirtiest kind, humiliating enough to make you react, to rebel, to revolt… and to cry..<br /></em>None of us did the above..<br /><br />The initial feeling of fear and hatred is taken over by a strange sense of relief and happiness…a sense of victory.. the victory of human endurance…<br /><br /><em>This intense feeling of victory after every session, we went on to realize was what, going to keep us living through the next two months of extreme physical torture and mental trauma. When so many of the batches could survive this ordeal and especially these b@#$$%(our technical fathers) could survive it, so could we, was what that used to run through our minds during each of these sessions.</em><br /><br />The room which was supposedly for a single occupant was now almost wet, gruffy and sweat stinking, overcrowded with the 22 bodies, 11 of them heavily worked out.<br /><br />“That’s all for today” says a voice, the same one which guided us to this secret room.<br />“This was your technical introduction. ‘Welcome to RECK’. Did you think that we meant it , the last time we made that statement in the official freshers party, you idiots???? Official parties are for official records.. You can never be free until you learn to abide by the rules- the rules that dictate the strength and tradition (sic) of Mahagang warriors. Such sessions will go on for 2 months, 6 months or possibly a year. Your freedom from these and from us depends on how fast you adapt to the RULES and follow them without mistakes….”<br /><br /><strong>The Rules</strong><br />*Each of you would treat each other like ‘bhai se badkar’.<br />*Each of you need to know the other’s bio data by heart.<br />*Each of you need to maintain and carry along with you an Identity card which would be a daily record of your technical length( the length of one’s genitals)<br />*You are to remain in the same clothes till further instructions at any instance- by day, by night. *You need to be wearing the shoes all the time, even while on bed.<br />*The eleven of you need to share the same room, the same bed.<br />*You need to be present in front of us within ten minutes of communication, any hour of the day or night.<br />*You need to learn and internalize the RECK pledge, the RECK song and the Mahagang aarti.<br />*None of you know or ever heard of our names.<br />*None of you know or ever seen our room numbers.<br />*The bruises on your face and other body parts including rupture of ear drums are the result of freak accidents in the bathroom and the football field.<br /><br /><em>A new rule gets added every other day and the list of rules keeps piling.<br /><br />And they surely made sure that we broke the rules most of the time!!!!</em>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-6039658511579246522007-10-10T11:03:00.000-07:002007-10-10T11:15:36.436-07:00WReckless Reckers wRecked the Reck..<div align="justify">"Ok guys...roll up your sleeves, untug your shirt and follow me in pairs each maintaining four yards between...and do Walk like KINGS!!!"<br />"ok sir"</div><div align="justify">Eleven of us meekly follow the instructions-shocked.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">The one assuming the role of our instructor is our technical father,31 years OLD- a GMC Nagpur MBBS fourth year dropped-out(thrown out), caught getting messy with the GMC director's son-a junior there, managed to get through into RECK therafter...</div><div align="justify"><br />Hostel no.4 is where we land up-in one of our technical granfather's room- a single bed room, now occupying eleven of us and eleven of them-our seniors..Could almost feel my heart in my mouth as i and the others wait for the inevitable, foolishly hoping not to happen...</div><div align="justify"><br />The usual questions start but the fun part's missing today,somehow. There's seriouness and heaviness, rather an artificial rudeness in their voice..</div><div align="justify">And it seems we were making too many mistakes today or did they make us feel that??????</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">And mistakes we did make under pressure, ofcourse- Nagu forgot my hometown zip code, dicky forgot Jalu's brother's name, I took too much time blurting out gaurav's hobbies...These were things which we were supposed to remember by heart and be ready to blurt out at any given moment of our existence. </div><div align="justify">Any smallest error was an indication of disrespect to the Mahagang rules and the rulers-the seniors..</div><div align="justify">The moment a junior commits a mistake he's ordered to <em>"become a reck chair</em>"."<em>Becoming a reck chair"</em> means assuming the posture of an imaginary chair, squatting on the floor with hands stretched on either sides..An extremely uncomfortable position. </div><div align="justify">Affected areas include toes,calf,knee, thighs and spine(Still shudder to recall those mornings following such sessions, when visiting the lavatory used to be the most difficult and painful of our daily chores,using the water pipe as support to relieve the pain in the knees)</div><div align="justify"><br />Five minutes...seven minutes..twelve minutes is the maximum that a normal person can withstand the pain accompanying this reck chair state..Some stand up to stretch while a few fall down unable to bear...which amount to further disrespect to the senior commands and hence higher grades of punishment - punishments resulting in high levels of concentrated impact on the most sensitive visible part of the human anatomy, the face - "one tight slap" from each of the eleven seniors...(..to be continued)</div><br /><strong>Glossary</strong><br />RECK- <em>Regional Engineering College, Kurukshetra (now NIT kurukshetra)</em><br />RECKER- <em>student from RECK known as in the whole of Haryana & Punjab</em><br />Khokha- <em>a mini dhaba-open till late in night</em><br />Jugad- <em>jack,connection,eatables brought from home</em><br />Mahagang- <em>Maharshtra quota students group in RECK</em><br />KP- <em>Kale pilley (black pups) referred by haryanvi students to all other state students</em><br />Technical father- <em>Second year male senior</em><br />Technical mother- S<em>econd year female senior</em>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-86927061666427637902007-09-30T09:53:00.000-07:002007-09-30T10:13:08.066-07:00The old man and the tea..Five more minutes to go before the company bus turns round the archies corner...weekend plans-to-be-made run through my mind as I notice a sudden hush ..Turn around to see every young eye fixed to one farther end of the road..Ah!its time,I realize, for those two pretty chics to make their ramp appearance..And there they show up as usual- elegantly dressed,decently made up, gracefully gliding to their waiting sumo - a daily ritual which none among miss to follow...Its chitter chatter as usual as their sumo wades through the still-colonial kalyan traffic- out of sight.<br />Two more minutes...<br />I feel someone tugging my unbottoned sleeve and turn to see a very old man in rags with a plastic cup in his hand muttering incoherently and gesturing to the tea-wada shop nearby...<br />I try hard to make some sense of the old man...Neither applied mechanics nor marketing strategy, but only a bit of sensitivity is all that is needed, I realized, to feel the plight of the wretched man- a sensitivity lost somewhere in the hue and din of the fast paced life here...Did I hear someone say that mumbaites are resilient??<br /><br />Being of help to someone and actively making a conscious decision to help someone are two different things. The process of deciding on is often a daunting experience:<br />Will I be hurting myself if i help this guy (thats what you read about happening to people who help others these days rite?) ?<br />What will others around think of me (look at this guy, he 's trying to act like a do-gooder-prince, is he?) ?<br />My consciousness writhes itself through these thoughts at a seemingly slow pace and i appear out of the whole battle between conscience and rationality elightened, confident & happy-virtually..<br /><br />I take the cup out from the old man's battered fingers and approach the tea-wada shop..<br />"kya kar rahe ho sahab, woh budda satiya gaya hain.. i had already offered him two glasses of tea and now he 's back again...I wont entertain him even if you pay me...He's goin to stay around and bring bad luck to this shop..and will be a burden for me if he decides to spend his last days here..These are the times......."Just then,I hear my company bus honking round the corner even as i try to collect my thoughts on the course of action...Abruptly putting a fullstop to my train of thoughts, I toss over the plastic cup back to the anticipating old man and get into my favourite front seat just managing to avoid- those hopelessly hopeful eyes..<br /><br />I recall, while in second grade, we did LEARN "Moral Science"!!!!djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-63952112474644441132007-09-18T10:40:00.000-07:002007-09-18T10:48:15.304-07:00She felt...and i thought....<em>She felt that I was an <strong>amateur</strong> and i thought that i was so much <strong>in control</strong>..</em><br /><em>She felt that she would never <strong>love me</strong> and i thought that i would never <strong>leave </strong>her..</em><br /><br /><em>She felt that i was being <strong>sacrificia</strong>l and i thought that i was being most <strong>selfish</strong>..</em><br /><em>She felt that i was being <strong>judgementa</strong>l and i thought that i was being just<strong> rational</strong>..</em><br /><br /><em>She felt that i was being <strong>manipulative</strong> and i thought that i was being <strong>motivative</strong>..</em><br /><em>She felt that I was being <strong>possessive</strong> and i thought that i was being <strong>sensitive</strong>..</em><br /><br /><em>She felt that she was being <strong>reasonable</strong> and i thought that she was being <strong>illogical</strong>..</em><br /><em>She felt that i should have <strong>given up</strong> and i thought that she should have <strong>given in</strong>..</em><br /><br /><em>She felt that i would never <strong>forgive</strong> her and i thought that i would never <strong>forget</strong> her..</em><br /><em>She felt that she thought and i thought that she just felt she thought...</em><br /><br /><em>She felt...and i thought....<br /></em><br /><strong><em>Why did she feel that, which i never thought, and</em><br /></strong><em><strong>why did i think that, which she never felt???<br /></strong></em>djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4934600890101719477.post-86379678453434141772007-09-06T10:54:00.001-07:002007-09-06T11:06:05.859-07:00back-flashesScuffling through the trouser pocket,i came out with a five ruppee coin,which I quietly placed in the "sauf" bowl.Ten buck is what I usually tip.but then this was not what I expected off from baghdadi, the chicken was hard to eat and it would have reflected poorly of my taste to my cousins,here in mumbai for the first time..<br />A not very neat but definitely one of the best tasting,Baghdadi too probably became a victim of the metropolis' unstatiated hunger for more..<br />Quickly,with cousins scumpering behind i moved out lest I have to look into the eyes of the poor,tired waiter(now, unlike the popular belief, the tips collected at the end of the day goes to the manager who distributes them among the team including the cooks).<br />It was close to midnite and we could somehow manage to catch the last local. Home s still atleast one & a half hours away in this slow local.Surprised to see a bit of crowd even at this hour, most of them pavement hawkers and also a few, heavy & drunk like us.<br />huh! This was the last time i would hav treated any teenager with alcohol...The train had hardly moved out of the platform than Shaju gave a yelp...I knew this was coming from the way the teenagers had acted all through the evening at Mondegar binge drinking..<br />I pulled him from the seat took him to the door and held him there till he relieved himself off the evening's inheritence.<br />Settling him on a seat I offered him the lone 500 ml Royal soda that I was carrying as if by foresight.<br />A sense of discomfort crept over me as i noticed the few passengers around staring at us with interest..<br /><br />Got up and walked to the door.<br />It never gets better than standing at the door of an almost empty,last local with ear plugs on.<br />With the wind blowing over,and the perfectly blended scent of the grinding metal wheels and the impending rain,mind runs amock flashing back through to the times gone by..nostalgia sweeps over..<br />Its so strange, the speed and the way the electric signals jump over the neuron synapses, gliding from one thought to another, form one folder to another....<br />But then there always has to be some trigger to give direction to this glide...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Byculla, my trigger</span>....and it-the thoughts, always tred back unlike the bollywood flashbacks...<br /><br />S<span style="font-style: italic;">he just stood there at the hostel gate,that peculiar albeit innocent smile of hers,revealing all... I was not a fool not to read her..</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Had been a dream till then...exchanging mail addresses through a 26 hour train sojourn three years back.. keeping up with those kiddish promises of being in touch...through mails through those long expensive calls and finally meeting up and spending a day roaming around the town..sharing a few of those unacknowledged intimate moments..<br /><br /></span>It was at this hostel gate of Regina Pavis women's hostel, at Byculla, 16:30, a long time back that I left her, desires unfulfilled- forever..<br />No reasons were given,for she would never understand any...<br /><br />The pinching rain drops wake me up from my reverie..But a part of me as the floyd favourite goes had already become comfortably numb...djnairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09618294756321076299noreply@blogger.com2