Are we there yet?

Dostana...Really?? Gimme a break!

2008-11-20T11:57:00.002+05:30

So I'm back!
No posts only out of pure laziness.
Anyway, so I saw this movie Dostana last evening. Piggy Chops was looking hot for a change and Abhishek's timing was excellent. But what was the point of this movie? I dint quite get it. I heard this girl coming out of the hall telling her friends how this was Karan Johar's response to all the talk about him being gay. This was his message to his audience- that being gay is alright and we should accept it as a society.

The movie dint come across like that though. Who was gay in the movie except for Mr. M? and was there really a message in this which has apparently been appreciated by the gay community? What was that message? All I saw was two straight guys making a mockery out of homosexual orientation and taking everyone for a ride. I heard this one guy telling some news channel how he was liberated after seeing this movie and how he told his mother he was gay after 20 years!!!
Ok, so mabye I missed the point here. Please someone tell me how this movie appreciates independence of sexual orientation. It doesn't. All it does is give ideas to straight guys - to live in with hot chicks, take immigration departments on a ride and mess around with little five year olds.

AND please tell me Bobby Deol's face is twisted! Isn't it? Its disproportionate!

Pain

2007-02-10T10:45:00.000+05:30

I couldn't sleep last night. The last thing I saw on TV before turning in was news of Anna Nicole Smith's death. A great star has passed away and it is unfortunate. The papers have got it all wrong though. Especially The Hindu (it's one of the few pseudo intellectual activities I must do every morning, even though the paper is quite like an academic journal and I don't understand most of it. But I am studying at a leftist institution and the REVOLUTION IS COMING! and if I don't read The Hindu the commies will haunt me when I die.) Anyway, getting back to the point, I noticed how distant 'Miss. Smith' was made out to be.

Apparently readers were 'fascinated by her good looks ( ok agreed), her marriage to an elderly billionaire (???!Who cares??) and subsequent court fights over his estate (yawn) etc. etc. Hello Mr. Journalist (no, I'm not a feminist, am working towards it) - what of all the good she has done to the male species on this planet? The endless hours I've spent on the Net, the huge phone bills and most importantly - the satisfaction (wide grin) viewing, discussing and recalling her (hah that sounds so proper, but the boys of the world shall unite because they know exactly what I am saying) all came back to me.

You see, I started my career early. When I was just a little boy in Class 8 I started selling pornographic images on 1.44' floppies to all the desperate customers in school. And Miss. Smith was my first star. I made so much money selling her 'assets'. That was a long time ago. And it quite unfortunate that the woman who made us 'stand up' and notice is no more with us. A minute of silence for the great star is required. May her soul rest in peace.

2007-02-04T18:38:00.000+05:30

With all Due Respect- Presidents be Damned

A silence falls over us, as the night wears on
With fleeting images and empty thoughts
Another inch is covered...
Another body left behind, rots.

And then another scream resounds
Perhaps a father lost a son
Another body writhes in pain
As we wait for another dawn.

Crawling over mutilated heaps I wonder
Who has won this war today?
Up in the horizon dawn breaks out
Home is still far away.

As the firing starts again
I move on, inching forward...trying to crawl
And then the bullets pierce into me
Engulfed in screaming silence, I fall.

Yet another house is broken
Just another soldier has died
A few drops of oil have changed hands
Somewhere a grieving mother has cried.

Perhaps we need to rethink
Perhaps we need to realise
This life is as precious to me as to you
Then why do we kill to survive?

Annoying Auntie Brigade

2007-01-21T19:06:00.000+05:30

So here's the scenario. I decide after 22 years of convenient isolation that I must go visit my paternal grandfather. Call it love, maturity (umm..no), sheer boredom or just a dirty room I wanted to leave for a few days, I ended up packing my backpack and booking my train tickets. Big mistake. Should have gone by bus or car or plane or anything else but not that godforsaken train. Anyway, so I left home and reached the station only to find myself shoved and pushed for an hour. The train was, as expected, late.

Finally it came, I got in and almost fell out. My darned bag did not wish to go in with me so I had to coax it into submission by holding it at varying angles and so eventually it got stuck between my legs and I got stuck between two rather large specimen of the fairer sex. As if that was not enough when I reached my compartment it was already overflowing with activity and obviously all the space at the bottom was gone so I had to accommodate my bag on the seat itself. Now, lower berths are not the worst seats in a train and I was just settling in when the ANNOYING AUNTIE BRIGADE struck.

Annoying auntie 1: Excuse me? Would you please shift to the middle berth in the next compartment?

Rishabh: No. (thinks that would sound a bit too rude) Actually auntie my bag is too big so I can't shift. (back to playing with phone pretending to be very engrossed in it)

Annoying auntie 2: (hisses) Ladies are sitting here and he is alone. Today's generation...

Rishabh: (Amitabh Bachchan glare...)

And that's when I saw them. Five middle aged women with 20 bags poured in. An aged gentleman was sitting across from me. We exchanged glances. We knew it was going to be one long ride. Within five minutes the compartment looked like a cage full of monkeys just that this time the monkeys were kitty party aunties falling over, screaming, applying makeup(?!!??), and of course, continuously talking. At 11:30 in the night. Thankfully the journey was overnight so there was some semblance of sanity to follow.

At 7 in the morning I literally jump out of my berth, banging my head on to the one above me. Why? Annoying auntie no.4 has dropped her blanket on my face from above! I throw it back at her and she doesn't budge. So my morning starts on an ominous note and I'm more or less up by that time, taking in all the different pitches of snores I've heard in my life. Then the conversations start.

Annoying auntie 1: Arre GOLU isko to dekh! She doesn't know how to get off the top berth! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Rishabh: (increases volume of his i river)

Annoying auntie 4: Arre main to phas gai! Why am I so fat! How will I get off?

Rishabh: (ducks as everything on her berth but her falls to the ground)

Annoying auntie 3: (starts explaining the process of getting off as if its rocket science) First you move backwards. Hogaya? Ok now very carefully, swing your legs to the other side. And then you place your legs on the handles and you're off!

Annoying auntie 5: Ohno! She's trying to come down head first!

Annoying aunties in unison: AISE NAHIEE! GIR JAEGI MOTI! HAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Rishabh: (disgusted because the volume refuses to go over maximum)

Finally some uncle in the other compartment decides to join in the fun, probably trying to impress the hottest auntie in the lot (auntie no. 2) and manages to get Annoying auntie 4 to the ground. All is well that ends well. Or so I thought. Conversation continues.

Annoying auntie 3: Where is my serum! I can't find it. How will my hair look when I get off!

Utter chaos. All aunties are diving here and there to look for a bottle of hair serum. Finally its found, applied and we are back on track.

Annoying auntie 2: (she's the alpha female, if that's a term :s, in the group, so she takes over) You know I never wash my face. EVER. I only use this cream. Its SOOOOOOO NICEEE.....

Rishabh: (trying to read the name of the cream in as subtle a manner possible)

Annoying auntie 5: Mujhe bhi de..main bhi to dekhun kya cheez hai yeh!

It turns out the aunties are beauticians! For the next 2 hours before I finally got out of the train I sat through the most comprehensive discourse on beauty products. I even tried remembering some names and all. Perhaps I will go looking for them when I get back to Delhi, I thought. Perhaps. As for now, I am glad my journey is over. The elderly gentleman sitting across from me gave me the most painful look of defeat as I left him to his fate while getting off the train. Goodbye uncle. Have fun. I still feel bad for him.

Morbid Me

2006-12-19T03:11:00.000+05:30

in this purple twilight
somewhere, hangs my sorrow
a fluid solitude swimming
against the tide of time
a broken wing of hope
surrendering to reality
a tiny ray of light
scattered in my strife
a spec of dust in timeless space
or the moment of truth trapped
in a lie; what’s more ironic
than learning to live
when you’ve already died.
a voice is lost somewhere
in this noise called life
a scream erupts from within
too soft to be heard outside
and then the silence creeps in
i lie down for once with ease
humming in tune
with my death knell...dying

and then there's peace.

Aazaad

2006-12-18T23:52:00.000+05:30

suraj ki kirno se jalte
hawaon ki aanchal mein jhoome
kuch sookhe patte idhar udhar
sarhad ki seema mein ghoome

woh ek masiah surkh patton ko
sunata raha apni kahani
woh ek masiah basti basti
mitaata raha maazi ki nishani

ek nadi ja mili sagar mein
na dekha palat ke na kiya ishara
yun fiza chali idhar bhi udhar bhi
phir bhi soona zameen ka nazara

sarhad pe suna hai kal bhi
hui thi ahat, chali thi goli
na saaz alag na awaz dhali thi
kuch bacchon ki maae roi thin

aaj hawa kuch tez chali hai
woh sukhe patte phir jhoom utthe hain
beeti yaadein sama kar dil mein
na is paar na us paar gire hain

Hmmm...

2006-12-18T22:08:00.001+05:30

Deewaaron par kyon soonapan hai
Parchhai bhi kuch sehmi si lagi hai
Jala dalo inko bhi zara tum
Akele baitthe ho yun shamma ke tale

Jis kagaz mein mod bahut hain
Kyun uspar yun likhva rahe ho
Samundar mein bhi lehren utthkar
Sambhal jaati hain saahil ke tale

Kuch to hai jo chhupa rahe ho
Kya koi khwaab saja rahe ho?
Aankhen paani tab hoti hain
Khulti hon jab maazi ke tale

Kya in baaton mein tum meri
Apni jhalak pehchaan rahe ho?
Shayad kahani yeh hai tumhari
Mere in lafzon ke tale...