Friday, December 31, 2010

Ayushyawar Bolu Kahi

(Lets Talk About Life)
Come friends lets talk about life. You don't have to talk just right stuff. Some wrong things on the way will also do. Come, lets talk about life.

Your feelings keep getting lost in a maze of words. You keep using your words, and the labyrinth complicates. But keep talking, for you only have to talk till that one moment comes - when your eyes meet, and the feeling are through. But till then friends, lets talk about life.

In the face of storms, all the ships ashore become alert. Its no different from what we humans do when problems come along. But for now, lets just face those problems. Let them disappear from the scene. Then, and only then, will we talk about them. We will talk about life.

Humans are weird sometimes. They like to talk about the worst times of life almost as if those sorrows are close to their heart. But if talking about these sorrows makes you feel light-hearted, then come on friends, lets talk about them. Unwilling and reluctant, your words wont come out easily, but still, lets hear them out. Lets talk about life.

Just how much will you worry about tomorrow? There's always a tomorrow you know, and then there's a day after tomorrow.. So just give it a rest. Lets not talk about tomorrow. For now friends, lets just talk about life.

Its a dark journey up ahead and the road is rough. So make a staff out of your words. Talk, talk it out. Talk, about life. You don't have to talk just the right stuff. Some wrong things on the way will also do. Come, lets talk about life...

This is the translation of a Marathi poem 'Ayushwar Bolu Kahi' by Sandeep Khare, later sung as a beautiful song by Saleel Kulkarni. The song, just by its sheer music, has comforted  and inspired me for a long time. So I asked a Marathi writer, father of one of my friends, to explain me its meaning, and here it is now, put into English. here's a video of the song, if you're interested:

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Chapter I: Harakiri

She walks in a trance, a mere collection of broken pieces, held together by an overpowering, all-consuming darkness. Her smile is fake, her eyes are blank, her heart is maimed, her brain is dead. She used be different, the contrary, and now she cannot remember why, or how - her memory is handicapped. The ghosts of her past floating in her eyes, demented, disoriented, she walks, she is in a trance..

She is drowning, falling into the abyss, and there is nothing that can stop her fall. She is out of breath, suffocated, she knows she is going to die, soon. The weight all over her body is unbearable, and yet, she is weightless. Water has such a weird temperament - it drowns the one who is struggling to survive, and floats the one who's already dead...

Darkness closes in on her. It is all that is around her, confining her to her own wretchedness. Her lips are parched, and her eyes are wet. She prays, desperately, between her sobs and hiccups, for the unknown saviour.. She yells, she shouts, she pleads, she begs, more tears fall down, her throat goes dry.. She falls on her knees, with her hands folded and eyes closed, praying for the one Deliverer, her rescuer.. please.. please..


Chapter II: Saisei

How does one describe the light that breaks her trance?
It is like the rays of the sun which break through the clouds and announce the dawn, and a dead man wakes up, sleepily, grudgingly, but definitely..
It is like a small ray peeping out of a slit at the end of the tunnel, which whispers of hope; and the weary pace quickens. Stumbling, falling, and rising again, she runs. The trance is broken, her brain is awake, her eyes are alive - they have seen light..

She can feel the pull, a hand grasping hers, bringing her closer to the surface. A fresh breath enters her body, fills her lungs, she coughs, and sputters, but she breathes in life. The surface, dark and dreary from below, now gleams like a thousand diamonds. She can feel her weight, but the burden is gone..

Knock.. knock, what is that? Something shakes around her.. KNOCK! Is it the ground itself? BAM! With a crash, the walls break, the confines are destroyed, and light floods in - the light of her Saviour, her angel. In this flood, her misery is washed away, her thirst is quenched.

The chaos is over, and the silence is silenced. The music has finally begun..

Chapter III: Wind


For what?

For.. For coming..

You know, if you wanted me to come, you shouldn't have closed the doors around you.

Huh? I.. I..

Yes, you closed them, yourself.. The music was always here, you muted it... The fresh air isn't my gift, its your birthright.. The light isn't mine, its your own.. You denied all that.. to yourself..

Please dont riducule me.. I became miserable, but before that I had a sound mind.. Who in their senses would do that to themselves?

Everyone does. You are a little to the extreme..

No! You don't know anything of this! The pain, the suffering, the torture, its incredible.. Why would anyone do that to themselves?! How could anyone do that to themselves?!

Don't get so worked up. Its human tendency to find a justification for every failure. They tend to find reasons for being sad, instead of finding reasons for being happy. They are amazingly intelligent, intelligent enough to fool themselves into a selfimposed misery.

But I was at the very bottom.. the darkness was abysmal.. the pain was unbearable.. and I couldn't do anything..!

Yes, thats what helped you win over everything.

What? Being at the abyss?

Yes, at the very bottom, all you can do is rise. After forgetting everything, all you can do is remember. In the pitfall of failure, when you cant fall any more, when your reasons are finally over, and justifications aren't needed, you rise above everything, and win!
A baby is always happy, coz all he can do is grow, learn, be better.. and like that baby, you are now reborn..

From the bottom of my heart,  I thank you, Masashi Kishimoto-san, for giving me Gaara and Naruto, and with all the gratitude that I can muster, I thank  Toshio Masuda, for composing Wind..

Chapter IV: Naitsuu

I thought I wouldn't need to see you again.

You sound as if you don't want to be here.

Oh, no no. I am just scared. You have such groundbreaking troubles. What is it this time?

Something's wrong.

Clearly, what?

Well, actually, everything's alright.


That's wrong!

Wow! You are a miracle of nature!


Being euphemistic, that's all. I meant to say that I don't understand you at all.

You see, everything is alright. I am at peace with myself and in line with the world. I am happy - not always smiling, but happy. I feel so content; Nobody notices it, but I know its there. I don't know how to put this into words.

Then don't.


Donn't waste your time in telling me something I already know.

But you see, I... I don't deserve it! There are so many people around me who did everything right - they sacrificed themselves, they gave it their best - and they are still not happy. This is so unfair, so very wrong, it doesn't make any sense! It____


Don't laugh. You don't know how_____

I do know. You think too much though. Good, bad, right, wrong, sensible, nonsense, fair, unfair - why does this matter so much?YOu say you are happy, yet your eyes are wide with fear - do you even know that? What are you scared of?!

Of loosing everything! Dont you see? I have everything - everything to lose!


You have a weird sense of humour.

No, you are a funny creature. You rose up so fearlessly when you had nothing. Rose yp for what? For this very moment! And when you have made it till here, you fear everything! Do you still doubt my sense of humour?


I see, you are speechless. Finally.

No. Its this feeling which suddenly crops up in my mind sometimes when I am smiling - and the smile stops midway. I feel as if every smile is rented. So one day, I would have to pay for each one of them with my tears. This isn't a perfect world. Then why is my life so?

It's not.


Your life is not perfect.

What do you know of it?

Really? Are you telling me that everything is flawless all around you? Every morning, when you wake up, there is nothing that saddens you. The weather, the work, the people - nothing daunts you. Is that the way of it? Does the world dance to your tunes, human? Is it that you want nothing more in life?

No... That's not how it is.

Then why do you feel so?

Because, I just feel so...

Now we are talking. Happiness is not something to be achieved, it is to be felt. You can not judge it as fair or unfair, because its just there. Only, most people forget to feel it.

How can one forget to do something as important as feeling happy?

By doing the opposite of remembering what happiness is. It is like this - currently, you have just decided to be happy. But its all you - your resolve making you so strong from within, your confidence in looking up to every problem instead of looking down upon yourself, your attitude of finding solutions instead of finding problems. And this is a very powerful weapon. Pity is, people do not realise how powerful it is unless they have it.

So, my happiness and the apparent perfection, is just my way of looking at things, is it? Does it mean that all of this is just an illusion?

(Chuckles) And does that mean, on further extrapolation, that everything - all life - is just an illusion? There are all sorts of questions. But that, my dear, is the domain of philosophers.

Aren't you one?

Oh, I am. You aren't. Not yet at least.

So I might become one in future, is it?

That, I believe, is up to you.

Thursday, September 30, 2010


They come in numbers beyond count, singing, dancing, laughing, and walking all the way from all corners of Maharashtra - from Dhule, Nashik, Pandharpur, Khandala. (All these places are in different districts, separated by a few more districts). They walk through the rains, enduring the blistering afternoons and the cold wet nights. Some of them are mere children, sometimes piggybacked by their parents; some are really old, having seen 7 decades or so. Yet they all walk, to meet their God who chose to live in this small town in a godforsaken district of Vidarbha.

The men are dressed in white, the women in saffron, sometimes in bright shades of pink and green and red. They play manjeera, lezims, dholak and a variety of folk instruments as they walk, singing Abhang and bhajans and dancing together to those tunes as they sing. Somewhere you see two girls playing fugadi, while a dholak beating beside them spurs their momemtum and the rest of the girls clap around them egging them on to play faster. At some other place you see 8 to 10 year old boys playing Lezim rhythmically as taught by their instructor who is supervising them. Its a sight that can make a dead heart leap.

You might be wondering whether these people have nothing else to do. No, thats not the case. These people aren't rishis who have renounced all worldly life. They are normal people, having a family, a house and a neighbourhood just as much as we do. They aren't people who have someone to earn at home while they are here. They live hand-to-mouth, mostly farmers and labourers and 'lower class' representatives. They are people who have seen the worst of life - poverty, illiteracy, famines, droughts, sickness, maybe even suicides. And yet here they are, their faith in their God undaunted by all that life has shown them.

Exhilarated, we watch them as they move, enjoying the music, the noise, even the blaring of the loudspeakers. We have lived with their God since we were born, yet their devotion is an example to even the most dedicated of us. Its a devotion that can spur a belief in the most atheistical of all beings, a devotion that will bring a tear to the eyes of the staunchest non-believer. In their simple yet profound beliefs, the legacy of Dnyaneshwar and Tukaram remains alive. In their earthly, yet unearthly presence, we find the God who is believed to live in the heart of every human being.

 Every year, 5-6 lakh such pilgrims, called Varkaris in Marathi, come to my hometown Shegaon to pay their respects to Shri Gajanan Maharaj, a saint contemporary of Sai Baba. A salute to you, Varkari!

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

A Place to Sit

A weird thought I know, but recently I have come to realise the value of a very small insignificant thing - a place to sit quietly and do something that I want to do without being disturbed. Such a place is easily available at college - you have the library to sit and read or write or even watch a movie, you have the IPC to take your laptop to, then there's SAC, and IC, the hostel common room, and above all, you have your own room, which you don't share with anyone.

Living in a city replete with Crosswords and CCDs, I realise the value of these joints now. All I want is some place where I can take a notebook to scribble, a book to read, and my laptop to watch Lord of the Rings or Naruto whenever I feel like. CCD is a good option, I know, but not for someone who doesn't like coffee or chocolate or any product based on either of them. There are libraries and reading rooms, but they do not permit the use of laptops. Then there are internet cafes, but they are too crowded and too cramped. And there are the book stores like Crossword and Landmark, but obviously they don't allow you to take your bag(gage) inside.

Being stuck in this quandary sometimes makes me wonder - A place to sit?! Thats what I miss in this huge city which has a mall at every turn! And it also makes me wonder, wont it be a great place to build - a place to sit? No coffee to serve or books to offer - just a place with tables and chairs and electricity at the user's disposal. In this fast and crowded life which doesn't ever seem to stop, won't people be willing to pay a few bucks an hour to just sit in solitude, away from work, home, roommates and everything? I don't know. I wonder, though.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Like Poles

Opposites Attract, goes a well known modern proverb. This one is widely used among youngsters to describe some pairs of people belonging to opposite sexes in various stages of relationship (friendship, friendship tending to love, timepass, love, love tending to marriage, etc.). People generally say this when the guy and girl in question have seemingly opposite characteristics. Typically the girl is chirpy, the guy is silent; the girl is short-tempered, the guy is cool; the girl is an artist, the guy is a nerd... many such combinations. Then Science steps in to support them, and the theory is established. Opposites attract.

But I beg to differ. Somehow, it doesn't fit. I mean, imagine this conversation (Assume the guy to be trying to attract the girl):

Guy: Hey, wassup? what plans for tonight?
Girl: Well, all my friends are hardcore FIFA followers, they all are gonna watch the match. And I hate football, so presently, no plans :|
Guy: You hate football?! Hey, guess what? I looove football! Wow, we are already opposites :D Shouldn't we be attracted?

Not at all attractive :-P

A better conversation would be:
Guy: Hey! I hate football too! So what say, we sit and talk over a cuppa where there's no noise of the fans shouting?
Girl: Sure! I love Back-IC, its generally very silent. What do you think?
Guy: Back-IC is one of my favourites! So, 4.30? 
Girl: Cool!


Personally, I believe that atleast in the initial stages of a relationship, the stage when the attraction starts, the similarities attract. How cool is it, to discover that the beautiful girl you steal glances at, is an atheist, just like you? Or the cute guy you had a crush on, loves peaceful places, just like you do? Perhaps, a little more down the relationship lane, you start to like the opposites, and therein comes the second part of my theory: Opposites keep the attraction intact. They kinda act as a glue between  the similar particles held together by attractive forces.

So concluding this theory, Likes attract and Opposites keep together! After all, scientifically speaking, the universe is governed by a force that speaks of small attraction between similar particles, and not by the huge force of attraction between the opposites!

Monday, September 6, 2010

Another Lecture

Warning: Read this when you're not in a hurry. I'm sorry, I couldn't make it any shorter.

This is a discussion between my dad and a friend of his, Dr. Kulkarni, which I was also a part of. For some time, I opposed what they had to say, but after some time, I decided to let it go and just listen. Dr. Kulkarni is the Dean of Mechanical Engineering in an engineering institute in Maharashtra. My Dad works in the State Bank of India, and is much more educated than he is qualified.

I don't remember how the discussion started off exactly, but dad and uncle were of the view that our generation in general is very irresponsible and insensitive. It started with they thinking that we all are very lazy about college education.

DK: Yeah, you think you all are the most knowledgeable people, and teachers are just some people too dumb to do anything else. you don't attend lectures, and a teacher who makes it compulsory is instantly the most notorious person among you. What you dont realise is that the curriculum is designed by people who have been through what you are going through right now, and are much more experienced, and perhaps, more intelligent than you.

Me: Well, i refuse to believe that students dont respect their teachers and don't attend lectures just for the fun of it. In my college, lectures are not compulsory, but we all do attend the lectures where the teacher teaches well and there is some positive outcome. However you should admit that not all the teachers have enough knowledge or the ability of conveying it to us. I'm sure there aren't any teachers who are good at what they do, and are still insulted by students.

Dad: No but after going to college, all you think of is your own fun. Once you're away from home, you've all your freedom, and that becomes the most important thing to you. You forget that someone back home is paying for your 'independence', as you call it, and that someone rests all their hopes on your future. For you, they are just another burden who 'dont understand anything'.

Me: You can't blame us all totally. Our education system is so testing that right from kindergarten we have been taught to be the best. For us, even playing was a competition ; we had to defeat the opponent all the time. So by the time we reach Undergraduate studies, we're fed up of competing. We deserve a break, its only fair. I mean, at the age when all we do is switch from school to tuition to another tuition to home back for studies, you used to be playing gulli cricket all evening after school.

DK: Who said our education wasn't tough?! Our teachers used to beat us up so often, these days corporal punishment is illegal! We were punished for small mistakes, and parents never interfered even if the punishment was severe and the offence negligible. Parents themselves were so strict, that we thought it was easier if the teacher handled the punishment.

Dad: Yes, we didn't dare look into our father's eye. But this isn't about it. We don't tell you not to have fun. All we expect is a little consideration of your parents' expectations. For you, your friends and your fun along with them becomes much more important than the things which should be your priority sometimes. If your dad says no to something, your immediate reaction is 'shit yaar!' I wonder why 'shit' is the most common reaction to parents's view.

Me: Oh come on, thats what a teenager might feel and do. By the time we go to college, we are much more mature. Some of college students might be like that, but then you can't expect everyone to be sensible. However, friends are important to us at every age. We all have been throught the same gruelling system, and we understand each other a little better.

Dad: Oh we too had friends, but your friendship is different. When one of our friends had a sister's marriage at home, we used to be the chief labourers. We knew it when a friend's father was sick and needed help, you don't even know the profession or income of half of your friends' fathers. Most, not all, but most of your friendships revolve so much around messaging and chatting and orkutting, that you forget to see the essentials underneath. Without your cellphone, your friendship is lost.

DK: Yeah, cellphone, another thing you all are crazy about! I remember a guy i caught in the class while he was using his cell. He had a cellphone worth 20000 bucks, and when asked what his father did, he said his father was a farmer and that his education fees are being through loans. I was shellshocked! Why, why is it so important to have a cellphone with a camera and music and a loadful of crap when all you need is a device to call and talk? What is it - esteem in your circle or a wish to look modern or an inability to adjust - what?!

Dad: The West affects you a lot. The children there have all the independence they need, yeh India mein hi saala sab restrictions hai! well, in the West, children earn for themselves since they are 18. That you won't do. You would ask your parents for all the favours, but wont accept even a small restriction from their part.

DK: When we were kids, we used to work hard and wait for our results, so that we could ask our parents for a bicycle or a new dress. And the happiness we used to feel at that time - I don't think you will feel it even when you get something 10 times as expensive! You don't realise the value of small things - the value of what your parents do without you asking them to do it, the value of an oppurtunity to study without supporting financial burdens, the value of money being spent on you without any hesitation, you just don't realise that.

Me: I don't think all students are like that, and even if they are, its more out of immaturity than out of disrespect or something. Im sure they all become responsible at some age.

Dad: I rode my first bike when I was 24, my son rode his when he was 14. You want all the good things early enough! Your generation is the one for shortcuts, instant glory, instant fame, instant success, but no patience. Hows that going to work? You can't filter out all the good things to keep, thats not how life is. You like easy solutions, and life's anything but easy. This doesn't apply to you or most of your friends in particular, I know. But the vast majority of India's student population is getting wasted in such things. We don't say anything to anyone, coz then the standard response is 'shit yaar.. another lecture!

I wanted these thoughts to reach the student community in general, in a non-lecture format. Perhaps very few people are like this, perhaps the elders have too negative a perception about our generation, or perhaps they just like to complain a lot, but perhaps, there is also an ounce of truth in all this criticism, which we all ought to take in the right spirit.

Friday, June 25, 2010


Oh love, you are my dearest,
You're the nearest to my heart
Even though you're so distant
And ever so far apart

You open my eyes to a new world
But in love, you make me blind
In you I lose everything
In you, everything I find

You make me lie awake at nights
And lull me back to sleep
With your eyes you calm my heart
With your eyes you make it leap

You kill me with one look
And bring me alive with another
Your touch makes me so restless
Yet sometimes kills all bother

With you, the moment stops,
With you, time flies by
With you, I am so carefree
And with you, I'm so shy

You're the laughter in my voice
And the teardrop in my eye
The absence and the emptiness
The content and the joy

I smile at the times we spent
Though they also make me cry
To you, till we meet again
I now say goodbye...

Sunday, May 2, 2010


We are your better half, your sensitive half, your cuter half, but also the smaller half, and the silent half of you. we are, as you would put it, complicated people, who don't understand themselves, who, in fact, don't understand anything. But we beg to differ.

You believe that our lives are boring, we concentrate on trifles and talk about things. But you pretend too much; at times, you wish you could talk to someone. And you know, we don't rote all day in college. We do have brains, and also a sense of fun. So your stereotype - "tum log ghotte ho yaar! hum log lite lete hai.. " - seriously, chuck it! We're bored.

We hear you complaining that there are no beautiful girls to look at in the campus, we see you using your fingertips to count the few females who are 'worth a glance'. You go on and on about how 'dry' your college is, while we are sitting with you on the same table. And at all these times, we wonder what makes you think that you deserve to have beautiful as well as intelligent girls hovering around you, when your own population, if we think about it, is nothing supernormal.

You believe that birdwatching is your birthright. And if you neither drink nor smoke, even for a change, its unnatural. But if a girl does that, or even wishes to do that - oh no! thats so characterless! We don't want every liberty that you have, we just want a fair judgement, you know.

At times, you go to the extent of thinking that you would be popular if you divulged a girl's secrets to a crowd. you proclaim your intimacy with a girl just to put up a cool face in a group. Sometimes, when you are drunk and loose on the streets, you take the liberty of jeering at a girl walking alone. You evetease, just for the fun of it; perhaps you derive an insane pleasure in seeing us scared, supressed, at your mercy. you know what? We feel sick of you at times as these.

You still don't realise, do you? we aren't meant to be a prize for your eyes. We also aren't just a bunch of body parts you fancy. We're people with brains and a heart, and above all, we're people with an identity so much independent of yours.

Introducing ourselves to you,

Yours Sincerely,


Sunday, April 25, 2010

Love :)

Born in a family where everyone is a Krishna devotee, i grew up listening to Krishna stories in my childhood. There was one thing about him though, that bugged me too much. Everyone said that Radha and Krishna are incarnations of love, born on earth to teach mankind the essense of love. It made no sense to me, as Krishna left Radha forever, went on to become a king, had a sixteen thousand wives, but never thought of calling his girl friend back. To me, it looked more like a teenage fling than an attempt to teach humans what love is.

However, one year back, I went to Gokul and Vrindavan, the place where Radha and Krishna grew up. While we were doing a pradakshina around the Govardhan Parvat, I asked a rickshawallah the same question about the relevance of Radha and Krishna's love. What he said illuminated me more than ne pandits ever had.

"Radha's love for Krishna was not just the love of a woman for a man as we look at it today. She loved him like a woman loves her lover, like a daughter loves her father, like a sister adores her brother, like a student respects her teacher, and like a devotee worships her god. Krishna was everything to Radha, and He understood that. Who says marriage is the ultimate expression of love? It wouldn't have been so for Radha and Krishna for sure, because the love they shared was so much more than that. This was the message they wanted to give to the world - a nameless non-judgemental love."

I understood what he meant. We always try to name love, to analyse it, explain it. But we forget that the real beauty of love is in its mystery. There's no rationale behind it, and no boundaries ahead of it. We always try to reason about every relationship.

'He's a very good friend, you know, just a friend.'
'But u spend so much time with him!'
'I know its weird.'
'No but you should explain... there has got to be something. What exactly is it, you are what? friends, lovers, friends wanting to be lovers, friends trying not be lovers, what??'
'I have no idea.. '

Thats perfectly 'lovely'. We don't have to give love a name, and make it some kind of 'relationship'. Love is just... it. Its Love :)

Sunday, April 18, 2010

All Hail Bollywood!

A few days ago I saw a movie Green Zone, based on the post-Iraq War period. I was discussing the movie with a friend of mine, and out of nowhere we started thinking how the movie would be like if Bollywood directed it!

For those who haven’t seen the movie: Based in post war Baghdad, the story is about a Chief Military Officer (the hero) who, along with his Iraqi Interpreter Freddie, is set upon finding the truth about the weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) supposedly hidden by Saddam’s Government. A (female) Wall Street Journal Correspondent stationed in Baghdad is on the same trail. Inside Story: The Pentagon’s man in Baghdad (the villain) has already been told by Al Rawi, Saddam’s right hand man, that there are no WMDs whatsoever in Iraq anymore. However, the truth is being cautiously hidden from all, and the search for WMDs is now just pretence to establish American leadership in an Oil rich country.

So, if this story was to be made in Bollywood:

1. The movie will actually be a love story set in the background of a war that shook the world.

2. The Pentagon guy (a sleek figure in the actual movie) would be a dangerous looking man, with a huge moustache and a booming voice. Villains have to be scary, see!!

3. The hero’s entrance will be amidst great fanfare; perhaps we will see him as he comes out alive and untouched from a gory fight and lots of gunshots. How else will the people understand that he is the hero?!?

4. Being the only female far and wide in the actual movie, the Wall Street Journal correspondent will be the heroine. She will enter in clothes fitting a fashion model, her hair blowing in the wind and all eyes turning to look at her. She would be the epitome of beauty, and yet a karate champion, of course the best journalist in the world, and oh yes, also a tomboy. Otherwise, why would anyone watch the movie, huh?

5. Every time the hero and heroine meet, there will be eye contact, and awkward moments, followed by a romantic music as they go away from each other.

6. After the hero comes back from the heroine’s room, in the night both the hero and the heroine will lie in their beds, thinking about each other. There will be a song, in which they both will be together in almost every part of the world, changing the dress up every 20 seconds. And for some reason, the lyrics of the song sung by the hero and by the heroine will be the same, though they are so far away.

7. Sometime during or before the final adventure, there will be a ‘Maa’ scene. However, seeing as the hero’s and heroine’s moms are in the US, Freddie’s mom will come to the rescue. She would have lost her husband in the war, but will be brave enough to egg her son on for the country’s good.

8. There will also be a woman whom Freddie loves, perhaps his wife, but she will be a silent woman, loving him from the shadows. Sometimes, love is beyond words…

9. There will be at least 4-5 out of place songs in the movie, including a qawwali, which will inspire the hero, and an item song, to give people one more reason to watch the movie.

10. The villain will laugh boisterously at the hero every time they meet. A boisterous laugh for no reason signifies evil.

11. Somehow the heroine will get caught up in the final fight. Either she will be kidnapped (the villain knows everything!), or she wouldn’t be able to sit still while the love of her life is facing mortal dangers (ahh love…)

12. The hero would be badly injured in the final fight, but he will think of the heroine, and manage to stand up again and fight back (ahh love… again..!)

13. The punch line of the movie by Freddie - “You don’t get to decide what happens in this country” - won’t be one single line. It will be one long speech, which he will have the time to deliver even during the urgency of the fight. Also the last line of his speech will have the name of the movie somewhere.

14. The name of the movie would be changed to something much less sensible than Green Zone.

15. In the end when the hero will mail the truth about Pentagon to everyone, the heroine will see the mail, blush, hesitate, and then run out to meet the hero. The hero, knowingly, will be waiting for her with open arms. She will fall into his arms, they would embrace, the world will revolve around them, and that, dear friends, would be the happy ending: D

Hats Off to Bollywood!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

A Gallop

When you do something that you have always wanted to do, like you know, always always wanted to do with all your heart, doing it finally gives you a sense of fulfilment, even if that thing you wanted was very trivial. I knew this was one of those content moments when I lay face up, looking at the blue skies above me. My head rested on her head, my legs on the base of her tail. The five and a half foot creature below me was a mare named Megha.

Even as a kid, I had always been fascinated by the world of the ancient kings and queens and princesses. Above all, I had been crazy about battles and wars, and ancient warriors with their horses and swords and spears. And it has been one of my dearest dreams to learn all the skills of a warrior - sword fighting, archery, spear throwing, and of course, riding a horse. And as my luck would have it, there was a Riders Club at the Essar Township in Hazira, where i was doing my PS1 in the summer of 2008.

Riders Club had a vast lush green ground, and in the centre of these lawns was a circular, sandy patch of land, meant for the learners. They had eight mares, one horse and a few foals maintained in excellent shape. There were Chandni and Bijli, Noor Jahan and Roshni, Suraj and Pawan, and the most beautiful of all, Megha – a sheer black-skinned mare, with a single white spot on her forehead. I wanted to ride her the moment I saw her, tall and gleaming in the sun, strutting around proudly.

But the coach would have none of it. He said that Megha was the most violent of all the beats, and I couldn’t ride her for two months at the least. Instead, I was to mount Noor Jahan, a chestnut coloured mare with a calm air around her. The coach told me that she was the most good natured of all of them, and so beginners always rode her for a month or so.

It was a good thing she was so calm, because riding wasn’t as easy as it looked. The first speed, walking as they called it, was easy enough (as long as the horse didn’t jerk a leg or sway its head without any warning). But the tough part came at the end of the lesson, when the coach announced that we were to perform some exercises to remove the fear of riding a horse.

Honestly speaking, the exercises were much more fearsome than the riding itself. They made us support our weight on our hands rested on the mare’s mane, n then lift the whole body from the saddle, legs dangling in the air (Luckily, the horse was supposed to be stationary during all this). I wondered what would happen if Noor Jahan chose the time to suddenly give herself a jerk and start trotting. The coach even made us lie down on the beast completely, face up, with just our arms to hold the saddle. It was supposed to remove all fear, you see.

The next speed was trotting, which is faster than walking but slower than galloping. It seemed fairly simple to look at, but I realised it was a back break when I sat on the horse, and it started tossing me up in the air every time it rose while trotting. Three rounds in the arena, and my back hurt because of all the ups and downs. The trick was, the coach said, to move up and down in the saddle with the rhythm of the horse, which I admit wasn’t that easy. The fact that I was just five-feet-two made it even more difficult.

But very soon, those 15-20 minutes spent riding became the most eventful minutes of my day. As more people joined, Noor was employed for the newcomers, and I got to ride different horses. I rode Pawan a few times, a snowy white Indian horse, shorter and stockier than the rest of his mates. And then one day, Pawan was ill, Noor was busy and so were the other mares. The only one left for me was, yes, Megha! I was overjoyed!

Mounting her - it felt like heaven, but riding her felt like, well, being really close to heaven. She trotted like there was no one astride her; I had one hell of a time telling myself that she isn’t trying to throw me off herself. I pictured Aragorn in my head, and told myself that I had to brave this if I’m to become a rider like him. (Yes, I’m that weird. And if you don’t know Aragorn, you are so.) An interesting moment came when we were doing the exercises and I was lying on her back, when suddenly she jerked one head and started walking briskly. Luckily the coach had anticipated this, so he had been standing nearby to control her if need be.

But well, all good things end too soon. Within 3 weeks of my training, it started raining in Hazira. And when it rains at the Coast, it rains for days at a stretch. After a three day spat of rain, I visited the Club, only to see our arena all muddy and the lawns submerged in water. One thing was certain, it would take days to dry up completely and be suitable for the hooves of a horse, and by that time, it would start raining again. So thus my training was cut short.

But nevertheless, I was happy to have lived my dream, though for a short time. I know I’m going to become a fairly good rider one day, but till then, these small memories will remain to be one of the most beautiful ones I have had.


I read a lot, and think even more. And most of my thoughts don’t make any sense to anyone, even to me actually. For a long time, I’ve been thinking about writing a blog of my own. It doesn’t take too much of an effort to churn out all your thoughts, does it? The only thing was, I couldn’t figure out why someone on earth would bother to read all the junk manufactured in my mind. But then someone told me, just give it a shot! why care about what others think?! So well, here I’m, writing the random thoughts of my meandering mind! Just give it a shot!