My Mystery pal

Some incidents in life are bound to stick to your memory forever. One of the craziest thingsI did was "bench chatting" with a mysterious female from my college. Now dont go look up google on 'bench chatting'.
The story goes thus.....

It was one of the boring chemistry lectures ( one of the very few that I graced with my honourable presence),
I was somewhere between a oxidation reaction and my dreamy state, when my eyes fell
 upon a small comment on the bench.

I dont really remember what was written , but I replied to it with a pathetic comment of my own. 

Next day , Funnily enough, someone as crazy as me took pains to write a reply to it on the same bench again.
This really started me up and then onwards it became a routine, we ended up spoiling all the benches in our class ( we wrote with a permanent marker).
I never knew her real identity, nor did  she know mine. But all good things have to end, and one day we just stopped....just like that......

maybe I should dedicate a song to her.....
still better, I rather sing it ....

Im no peter andre but ill try

"Mysterious Girl"

I stop and stare at you,Walking on the shore
I try to concentrate, My mind wants to explore
The tropical scent of you
(...did i just hear the sound of breaking glass???)
Takes me up above
And girl when i look at you, Oh i fall in love
No doubt you look so fine
Girl i wanna make you mine
 (..... my neighbour is threatening to call the police ...)
I want to be with a woman just like you
No doubt i'm the only man
Who can love you like i can 
   ( .. my pet dog just jumped off the roof....)
So just let me be with the woman that i love
Baby girl... Shine like a looking glass
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh  
(....theres a awful lot of banging on my bedroom door...)
Mysterious girl
I wanna get close to you
Oh, oh, oh, oh ,oh, oh.
..( people are so jealous of my talent...)
Mysterious girl
Move your body close to mine
oh, oh oh,
mysterious gi...(thwack  ,thwack)...........
......... ... ........ ............ ..........   ..........

( Owing to his  incessant screeching , the author of this blog had to be restrained and sedated, he now sleeps peacefully and will continue to sleep for a few days .. we gave him enough sedative to kill a horse. . . . . we can now rest in peace)

HOW TO TORTURE A BARBER

My hair stylist probably winces upon my arrival at his salon. Most often than not, I have to drag him out of the table he is hiding under and issue a few verbal threats . That is generally followed by a couple of whacks on his pathetic
 face to force him to give me a haircut.
 Before you start wondering about the endearing relationship 
between me and my hair stylist , let me tell you a story.....

It was one of those winters when u like to grow your hair long and thick
 to provide a much needed insulation (for my head of course)
 from the december chill . 
No, nothing happened during that winter.....It all started after that . 
My parents disapproved of my long locks as boys are not allowed to grow their hair this long.

Things became worse when the neighbourhood stray cat disappeared and was found dead days later in my hair ( Due to asphyxia). Dad virtually points a flamethrower at my head  
and I am forced to submit. ( better cut it than get it burnt)

I entered into the salon dragging my hair along . The barber gave me one of his usual cordial smiles and beckoned me on to his chair.
"and how would you like it sir?" the gentleman asked. 
With a evil grin I said "cut it short maestro". 
He picked up his tools like a tenor would pick up his baton and with a  customary 'snip snip ' in the air, he began. A clank was the next sound
 ...if it was the right way to describe it. The barber looked at me with 
dismay and probably shock as he held his now broken  scissors in his nimble fingers. What an inauspicious start. 
He composed himself soon enough and picked up his next pair and restarted.... albeit cautiously. The new pair of scissors met with a similar fate...and the barber wrung his hair with anger. Slowly he wheeled my chair closer to the sink and began a series of washing and scrubbing and shampooing and scrubbing again.  Finally after what seemed to be an eternity , i was back facing my own reflection along with that of an exasperated man. Slowly and carefully he began snipping away at my wonderful locks till they lay all around me 
like the dead soldiers protecting their king. He was like a crazy despot who sought to lay bare all the fields he set his foot upon
Halfway through the ordeal, my perfectionist alter ego woke up and halted his progress with
 a raised hand. 
His inertia nearly cut off my ear.
I now started instructing him ..." cut it this way ...and that way, a little here and a little there, not too short , a little long here, leave this part intact,... take care of my side locks......, no no no .. wait ill show you" .. and I grab his scissors and chase him all around town till he is subdued. I then demonstrate a bit of my finesse on his hair. (It ends up looking somewhat like a cross between a
 sheared sheep and a wet dog.) 
I am finally chained to my chair and blinfolded too. Then for a time (which seems like ages) I am oblivious to my surroundings ( I may have been drugged too, I dont blame the barber though).
Finally and finally I see a strange looking man in the mirror and after a while recognise myself. "Hmmm not bad at all" I remark. But the barber is no longer to be seen . I later learnt that he was rushed to the nearest hospital for stress related fatigue syndrome.

I  dust away the leftover hair on my face and shoulders and walk home to my happy parents.

I eagerly await the end of the next winter........while my barber plans a vacation at that time .....probably to a far off place where my dreadlocks dont reach.......

An ode to Minal Panchal

We lost...
an angel....
among the very few that exist on this wretched earth

We lost...
a smile....
that could never be erased from our memories

we lost...
a friend ....
whom we can never see again.


lost  forever in a foreign land...
 loved by all and she will be forever....
even when she has gone..
to a place where there would be no guns...
no stray bullet from a stranger 
to whom she meant no harm...
to a place of love, peace and bliss..

Rest my dear,
rest in peace...
No tears will be enough shed....
not more can one's heart have bled....

rest my dear ,
rest in peace.

BYE BYE JUMBO

Full Name : Anil Radhakrishna Kumble
Birthday : Oct 17, 1970
Birth Place : Bangalore
Country : India
Batting : Right hand batsman
Bowling : Right arm leg-break googly bowler
ODI Debut : India vs Sri Lanka, at Sharjah, on 25/4/90
Test Debut : India v England at Manchester, 2nd Test, 1990



An unorthodox, right arm leg spin bowler, not a great turner of the ball but exceptional with his line and length.
One of the most Unforgettable scenes from his great career is when he bowled 14 overs with a broken jaw against the West Indies. India of course did not win the test match, but Kumble's committment will always be reminisced for the years to come.
And who can ever forget the Magnificient Ten wickets against pakistan.

The relentess fighter, humble to the core, was however dropped from the finals of the last World cup and India paid a heavy price for it. 

His ever so famous  googly and flipper, along with his faster balls won many a matches for India besides reviving the art of leg spin.

Adios JUMBO ,..YOU WILL BE MISSED 

The unheard melody

Oh howI long to hear the nightingale sing...
how I long to hear the sweet chime...
How I yearn for that eternal music...
that which echoes through my heart...
embedding itself in my existence.....

Oh how I long to hear that celestial laughter ,
that divine assonance....
the chants of joy...
 
ah but it eludes me .....
...it eludes me...

Coffee

It was one of those great winters in nasik. By a quirk of fate, I got to have coffee with Anupama* ,one of the smartest girls alive. The college canteen wasn't really a romantic spot , but coffee is a strange brew.....The right dose of sugar and milk and it turns out to be a bittersweet experience....just like love......it can turn the most boring situations to wonderful joyous episode worth remembering throughout life.

It was something just like that , when i had my first coffee with Anupama*. The fact that she was only bitching about the place didnt matter at all, because I was just besotted ( if thats the right word) by her talk. She seemed to have an amazing enthusiasm ( which I later learnt that it was due to coffee addiction) , and her intelligence superadded to her awe inspiring persona. Oh and did I mention that she was cute too? Many such  coffee sessions followed where we discussed things , bitch about people, made fun of each other...and things like that...
Alas but all good things have to end and so did my aquaintance with Anupama* ( dont ask me how)....hope we meet up some day....somewhere on a cool winter evening ...for a cup of coffee.....

(*name changed to protect indentity...not that my friends dont know about it)

WHY I STILL WATCH CARTOONS

....also titled " ALL THAT I HATE ABOUT TV"

"You still watch cartoons???????" , my friend screamed at me. "You need to grow up man ,be more mature".I do not reply. I calmly switch the channel to Cartoon Network , which is currently showing Tom & Jerry. Before you can say "catch me if you can" , the cat and mouse antics have my 'mature' friend in splits and he is hooked onto it.

Why do i watch cartoons?....well what else is worth watching?

Looking at the current state of entertainment, I think cartoons are the only unadulterated form of Tv viewing.

What does the Idiot box offer today?

FAMILY CHANNELS: relentless saas bahu crap, filled with fake emotions and as much as fake jewelry coupled with so much make up it would put a dressed turkey to shame. ( do women really wear those earrings?) . More women oriented sagas spanning 3000 episodes and still newer ones coming up. Im not a misogynist but i really do think that the indian woman is much different than what is shown by ekta kapoor and her lot.

The rest of the showtime is filled with not so real 'reality ' shows....oh thats where they play with our emotions and the telecom operators are laughing all the way to the bank.

SPORTS CHANNELS: A welcome break.....but put in a few doping scandals, match fixing, indian cricket matches, blame games, the poor state of indian hockey , and mandira bedi ( what does she know about cricket????).....ho hum....i get bored even writing about it

FORIEGN MUSIC CHANNELS: cant see those in front of the family....

INDIAN MUSIC CHANNELS
: Who wants to hear ( or see) a bearded , unwashed guy with a old jacket and even older cap singing with a nasal twang. ( the correct word should have been TWANGING not SINGING)

NEWS CHANNELS: The most irritating thing in a news channel is the recurring loop that they keep showing....of course no news is really enjoyable

DOORDARSHAN: Nothing on earth can force me to watch this.......

so the boob tube leaves me with only cartoons .....bye for now , i got to catch up on THE SIMPSONS

How opal mehta got kissed, got wild and got a life

Oh yes , I am a bookworm ,and a happy one too......

My library happened to provide me a copy of this controversial book by Kaavya Vishawanathan . I dont know whether it has been plagiarised , but here's the review

Its all about Opal , an american desi and her Harvard obsessed parents, who have been training Opal right from her daiper days to get into Harvard. However a pre admission interview leaves opal shaken and she finds out that only high grades and an excellent resume is not going to get her into Harvard.
What follows is an hilarious attempt by her parents to give her a social life , friends and whatever it takes to achieve her ultimate aim....Harvard.

Its a good book, a kinda girlie movie sort of a story, but nonetheless... humorous. There are points in the book where u will really feel like having a good chuckle.

Definitely not something that an indian reader would identify with, but it does have a tinge of familiarity to the GREAT INDIAN RAT RACE( read bad education standards and high aims, coupled with parental pressure).

Plagiarised or not, I say go for it....
after we live with Anu malik, Pritam and "inspired" (read badly ripped off from english) hindi movies dont we? But thats another issue for another day......

hi everyone

Well,  a new blogspot for me( im sick of using msn spaces ....too cumbersome)...hope to keep this  interesting

                 Yesterday's Hindustan Times had a front page story on M.F Hussain cribbing about not being able to return to India....it seems there are about 900 cases pending against him.....

Wel Mr. Hussain, You should have thought about that when you came out with your paintings depicting hindu goddesses naked. I know you are a great artist and all that , but hey when you are such an accomplished artist, you think you can get away with anything?  For all art afficianado who support the great MF, let me get this straight ....art is a form of expression agreed, ....but when you create a piece of art ...u ought to keep the sensitivity of the audience in mind....it is of course the audience that decides.  

           I was taking a break from my drab study routine, and of the rare chances i get i happened to catch a good movie on Tv ---" Agneepath" ....an unbeatable performance by Amitabh.......which set me thinking....there are some roles which can never be remade or reenacted..

Amitabh Bacchan              AGNEEPATH, DON ,ZANJEER
Amrish Puri                       MR. INDIA ( who can forget mogambo?)
Shahrukh Khan                 DARR
Amjad Khan                       SHOLAY
Sanjay Dutt                        VAASTAV
Aamir Khan                        GHULAM, ANDAZ APNA APNA ( contrasting roles... i know)
Paresh Rawal                     HERA PHERI
Rekha                                  UMRAO JAAN
Nargis                                  MOTHER INDIA
Raj Kapoor                          MERA NAAM JOKER
Dilip Kumar                        KARMA


PRAYER FOR THE DAY: Dear God  please forgive all movie makers trying to remake ( read rehash , recrap, ...whatever) the good old classics and cult favourites. Please knock some sense into them for they do not know what they do. Please Forgive Farhan Akhtar for making DON...Please forgive Shahrukh Khan trying to step into the mantle of the great B himself...and last but not the least , please forgive song remixers for they are very poor people ( the dancers have very less clothes to wear)
 
till next time..............