UNVIELED

We are proud to announce another remarkable addition in our glittering list of previous brand ambassadors like Bill Clinton, Silvio Berlusconi, Nikolas Sarkozy. May I present to you our next and perhaps most apt brand ambassador till date, ex-because of sex- Governor of Andhra Pradesh 85 years young Mr. N.D. Tiwari. A truly inspirational figure for all the Japani Tel users . May he continue to inspire us with his jidhar dekhi naari, udhar aankh maari ways till the end of his days and keep increasing our pride and selling stocks. And remember, Tel ko maliye, Kaam par chaliye.

We are truly yours,
Phuc Pho Lai
CEO,
Japani Tel Ltd.

NO 1

Yay, we are the no.1...... NO.1 NO.1 No.1. And if I couldn't believe it yet by now, every English , Hindi, Urdu, Bengali , Marathi, Bhojpuri, etc etc news channel has strained every nerve and sinew to infuse my mind , body and soul with this earth-shattering, zamin-hilaoing bit of information. Everyone. probably except CNN . They care as much about cricket as we do about global warming. But we are NO.1. Australia teri monkey(or maa ki) , POM POM POM, you baby bums. And Proteas.... unko karo khallas.

We are the NO 1. So what if they had Kangaroo curry in Kangaroo land and after all the bandar shorba we tried, all we were left with was maa ki, behan ki and Irfan Pathan's fiancee. We are the NO 1.

And all hail the Almighty and omniscient BCCI ,who of course foresaw it years back when it designed the FTP for India. After all, you remain champions until you lose to any other team .And in order to lose, you have to play. And since Bangladesh has been begging us for a test series for the last 4 years, lets us oblige them then. Since it wouldn't be the world cup, it is rather unlikely that we would lose. Damn those ICC rankings which will automatically dethrone us in time to come. This is the BCCI way of setting benchmarks. Anybody who becomes No 1 , we would snicker and mockingly say them ,"But you haven't played us, we suppose!!!!" And also officially at last we have something we are better than China at. Given the fact that they have started thrashing us in hockey and have taken a liking to learn English as well.

We are the best . Even as I write this , a T.V. channel is going bonkers about this at 12 at midnight. Yes, after we were thrashed in a 20-20 just a couple of days ago , which the captain described as a practice game . How one can regard a game in which he is representing his country at par with a game between Board President XI and Timbuktu XI is of course rather beyond me . Perhaps representing India Cements (CSK) is more Indian for our captain than representing India itself in an admittedly hit-and-giggle format.

But what has been rather surprising for me has been the general surprise and shock that has preceded happiness and satisfaction displayed by Indian media. Reminds me of India playing tests in South Africa in 2007-08. By winning the first test they surprised themselves so much that they promptly ended up losing second and third . As they say , winning is a habit. But as much winning is a habit, losing is also one. It has taken more than a quarter of a century to lose the habit of losing. Losing the habit of winning can be much easier and can be rather swift. Specially when confronted with spiteful Australian and South Africans on their home turf.

But then after all it remains rather debatable that how much importance need be attached to the rankings of a system which until recently ranked Nuwan Kulasekara as No1 ODI bowler, Sri Lanka as No.2 ranked test team , and Gautam Gambhir(though rather good, but....) as No1 test batsman. The same council, recently adjudged on its "All Time Great Bowlers List" that Dale Steyn is No.22 on the list and one highly ineffective , inconsistent bloke called Wasim Akram whose 900 + wickets chiefly consisted of the tailenders only, be rightly placed at 59. The same system on the batting list opines that Mat Hayden be at No.10 and a certain flat track, small ground bully called Sachin Tendulkar be languishing at no.26. If a drunkard like Shane Warne puts him at No1 on his list, lets punish him by throwing him off at no.15 on bowlers list. Is it that important? Blogs like Greatbong or Amit Verma don't even consider it important enough to even post about it. Sections of Indian media has been honking about it and I wrote a post. But then some people are rather less occupied and rather less important.


P.S--- Icc is considering introducing two balls from either end in ODIs thereby effectively eliminating reverse swing as each ball will be maximum 25 overs old. As Dennis Lille once said," Maybe they will ban the yorkers next." But probably, next may be they will ban bowling itself, installing a bowling machine instead which can be adjusted as per to the whims and fancies of ICC.

The Monkey

(This was written on International Child Abuse Day,19th Nov. Due to my exams , and lack of online facilities, I could not post it earlier.)


I am not supposed to remember this. At least not the date. For somebody who remembers only his own birthday among all the anniversaries of the people related to his life, even I would pinch myself to soreness if I could recall that the International Child Abuse Day falls on 19th of November. As it turned out, I need not pinch myself anyway as I did not find anything different about a rather dull, routine day until I came across a radio broadcast on child abuse. I had my exams starting next day, so I need not listen . I did not need to recall anything either. But I did. Both.



I would not call my experiences a case of child abuse. Actually far from it. To call them child abuse will be severely undermining the pain, humiliation and depression of those who have undergone this most horrific form of self-gratification. But still it left a lasting impression on me. Both the incident and what became of it.

I went to a boarding school in class VII . Now, you don't face abuse in that class. You are still a child, but lets say, you are not child enough. You start developing that bit of a fighter instinct ; growing out of that complaining attitude. And by experience I can tell you that, any child who does not show the same, might just be a case of abuse , direct or indirect. A lot of parents introduce their child as ," Bada sharmila baccha hai ." . Alarmingly so often quietness is used to shroud a self-depreciating and guilt-ridden mindset. Not for nothing in India 1 out of 2 children has been somehow abused and 70% of them never talk about it .

There were a couple of guys in my school- one was called Rana Pratap and other Ashok. What they did to me was nothing more than beating and forcible kissing. But I had never had such experience before and I was as shocked of that as you might be when you read me talking of such treatment in such casual terms. I remember everything as vividly as the back of my hand , but I wouldn't give importance to such people by writing about them. I wouldn't even have taken names, but then I feel that it is simply a way to get back to them. Vague may be, but still, here I go SLAP SLAP SLAP!!!!!

I would not have taken names also, since it is not normal for a child having being treated abnormally to talk about it . But then something happened - the culprits did not get away . It so happened that one day I was humiliated more than Murali has been against Sehwag, having been beaten and was told to do something when I shot back and was told that since I was his wife, I ought to do that. Something broke inside, and at outside , I broke down. Men don't cry, and I was ironically just been reminded by my conscience that I was a man still. Weeping I proceeded toward dining hall, when I was seen by a prefect , Souvik Ghosh. He asked me about and I told him everything including that wife bit. Back in my mind I knew that, kids henceforth will call me as the one jisne apne classmates ko phansa diya . But I wanted to get myself free of trappings of different kind ; the bondage was not comparable , I would say.

That prefect went straight to my class teacher. He was called Mr. Francis. He was rumored to have a slap which could play Walkman in your ears. We had a large hall in which we all used to have our meals but , it was not only Rana Pratap and Ashok who listened to Walkman that noon. The whole hall did; we sitting inside and those two and the teacher playing it outside. . You might call me sadist, but that was the best music I have ever listened to in my life. I was avoided by those two for the rest of my life. Life meant so much more henceforth , a monkey was off my back. It is quite unlikely that you are going to achieve a lot in life with baggage in your mind and monkey on your back. I topped class X in my school and a major share of credit was attributed to those two gentlemen-the prefect and the teacher. I don't support corporal punishment, but such incidents make me think twice.

But everybody doesn't have people like Souvik and Mr. Francis in their lives. More importantly children are generaly abused when they are much younger than I was - incapable of fighting back. Specially, since we Indians are often a bit timid in nature and the best way to solve problems we know is to avoid them . So, that is what a lot of our children do when abused, that is they simply avoid the problem by keeping shut. Child abuse is not that big a problem as children keeping quite about it is. A lot of us treat it as if it is like a ghost, talked about but not believed into. That is so dangerous because that is an attitude we pass on to our kids who since they don't know a think like this exists, think all of this is their own fault. We need to talk ,and if need be , we need to be like Mr. Francis. Otherwise timidness can be a bane ...a dangerous one at that because it can have many layers beneath.

Hoping for Hopelessness

Hope is a funny thing. It can make you believe into nothingness. Somebody created an April Fool Day. But then we don't realise that for God, everyday is a fool day. Everyday he makes a lot of people hope against logic. Everyday he sees them being fooled according to logic. Afterall, logic is the correct thing. But hope is a funny thing. Yes, it is a funny thing. I study in a college , where most of my co-hostellers are from the same city.So, on weekends they go back to their respective houses. So, when the weekend starts, you feel that my good friends are going, so I will be bored to death. You hope that when they are back , things will be better.


But then when they do, you discover that you were only hoping that they were my good friend. They come back and get on with their lives, as they should. The hope was on my part , logic was on their's. And logic is the correct thing, hope is a funny thing. You suddenly realise that the best part is over - the weekend. You realise that even sulking can be better than certain things. But suddenly the weekend arrives once more and hope plays its fun game all over again. You again start to hope, and the cycle repeats itself.

You hope that you are a good person. Polite ,sensitive, good at heart etc etc. You hope so since the people who call you friend are like that. So hopefully you must be like that. Opposites attract each other only in love , not in friendship. Then, one day you talk to somebody unknown in a bad mood and he retorts,"Why are you talking to me so rudely?" Then you realise that they are with you not because you are a good person but because they are good people. You remember that you have been talking to them as rudely, hurting them on and off, was often selfish. But they chose to ignore, play it straight because they are good people and logically they did not want to hurt me. Logically, they were good people, but you only hoped to be good. Again, logic proved to be the correct thing, hope only a funny thing.

We always hope to be good in the eyes of parents of our friends, even if the friend in question is not a girl. When you share the room with somebody in a hostel, and when his parents come visiting, you make an extra effort to clean up the room. You don't want to look messy . When you go to friend's house, you make an extra effort to keep shut, so that to shut out any opportunity that expletive might have to slip out of your mouth which often keeps cropping up in your daily parlance. I have also hoped that I am good in the eyes of the mothers of people whom I call friend. But hope is a funny thing. Their Moms are not like the people you live with . Let's put it this way- They are not obliged to be good to you. Of course, they are atleast as good as the sons they have, but they don't need to be nice to you. They have the luxury to be blunt for the sake of their sons. This luxury is coupled with the experience they have in life which gives them the ability to see through you. They can make out if you are a harsh person no matter how hard you try to be polite. Or if you are a selfish person wearing the mask of magnanimity. Don't try to butter them, the butter will melt faster than an ice cube in a furnace. Hope doesn't work with them. And I only hope which is a funnny thing.

Once mother of my one of friend was told by my classteacher to keep him away from me as I was unlikely to get even 70% in boards. By that time, I was only hoping that I will perform well in boards. But then , I promptly abandoned hope in favour of logic which told me to study well instead. And I scored 84%. And a few months earlier, the same lady told his son," Don't hang around with Sumit. He will study alright and will not let you study." My friend scored 73% . See, they can look through your selfishness. A few days earlier, a mother of somebody told me ," Bete, I used to think of you as a mature and sensible guy. But......" The eloquence of silence. You can't fudge things with them . Hope is a funny thing, which can be still beaten . Logic is not beatable. But the funny thing it is, I still hope that someday I will be seen well, if I still have people whom I can call friend.

I hope that it is like that with only mothers. Otherwise hopefully people will not shoo me away as it might be below their dignity to do so . But the problem is that I know where logic stands and where hope stands. Logically I know the answer. I want to go home. A lot of people like me and love me selflessly, but I find it difficult to reciprocate. I think that the only people I can love selflessly is my family. Presently, I am in need to love somebody selflessly. So I guess, I need to go home. I hope that the day when I board the train back home will come soon. But, then hope is a funny thing.

Wanted- Movie Review

A question for you,

"How did Salman manage to complete Wanted?"

" Kyunki ek baar jo commitment maine kar li, fir to main khud ki bhi nahi sunta."

About a month earlier, I took a pledge after watching a trailer ," Come what may, I shall save myself from the ignominy of watching Wanted ."

A month later I take another pledge- " I will never challenge Bollywood. And I will never try to act God to decide my future ." Both have funny ways to pinch you at the backside.

One of the rare movies to have been made in Bollywood not to have it's title featured in even a single dialog (Even Badhti ka naam Dadhi had a tilte song) , rides on a simple cliche- Love it , hate it, but can't ignore it. And generally not being ignored suffices to be a hit in Bollywood. Here, when Vinod Khanna was exhorting Salman to be a one-man-army, he was merely echoing the producer's sentiments. Ayesha Takia will find difficult to sell even a flap of Shilpa Bindi if with it a life size poster with a prominent mention of her bosom is not doled out for free. And regarding the saleability of director Prabhudeva, hmmm.

We went to watch Hrtihik in Lakshya, but then he was a choreographer. But, when he comes up with an action flick , which is a remake of a south Indian super action movie, sniggers are more commonplace than expectant sniffs.

There has always been a North-South divide in Indian movies. For e.g. with all due respect to Rajini Sir, a lot of north-Indians fail to grasp the significance of the act in which he tosses up a cigarette in the air , and then force of gravity becomes so miniscule on it that it lands well after he has finished playing with all the bad guys. Likewise, a lot of my south Indian friends can't seem to understand how SRK manages to woo scores of girls , when he wouldn't be able to sustain a punch from even a gali ka goonda which are blown away by a mere breath from Rajini Sir. So our esteemed director invented a new pharmoola- that is to make a pharmoola movie. And the pharmoola tells him to amalgamate what he knows sells in South and what he is being told that sells in Bollywood. And his goodness lies in the fact that he sticks to his pharmoola . In the recent past the Ghazini director also tried the same. I didn't particularly like the movie apart from the sugar-coated love story and the sugar herself ( Asin that is). But Wanted has no Amir and Ayesha Takia is no Asin. So does that set the film back? No, not a bit.

Coz, it has Salman. The Khan with a man in even in his name chooses to play the man and quite naturally lives up to it. Earlier, he chose to play a prince and act weird in Yuvvraj ( did I miss a v there?) He turned pauper instead. He chose to play a God in God tussi great ho and act weird. As it happened the Gods didn't turn out to be in such a good mood. He chose to play Salman Khan and act weird in Hello . Nobody turned up to say even a hi. Now he chooses to play the other Salman Khan in Wanted and though he still acts weird, we suddenly discover that we actually like the bad boys. Hmmmm...That's my man. And maybe Salman realizes that as well. He has gone from Wanted to Veer with full abandon , which is quite visible in Wanted as well, with most of the songs apparently shot later with his Veer hairstyle.

So to the movie. It is actually quite decent. I didn't picture myself writing this a month back , but life takes strange turns. Two years back I didn't picture myself writing a blog either. Anyways, to a neo-generation for which a single screen theatre is nothing but a macchi bazaar sans any macchi , Wanted can be a wee bit surprising. When in theater Salman made his entry on the screen , there were a lot of whistles from some section. Now, the one I go in ,I have never heard any such things earlier and one of my friends muttered under his breath," Bloody Biharis" . By the time I left , I was thanking those bloody biharis. They created an ambiance in which Wanted deserved to be watched. It is not LOTR to be watched in PVRs among muted appreciation and mild claps. It is supposed to be watched with a lot of seetees, inane remarks , lewd jokes and infectious laughter. And if you don't know how to whistle, go watch the movie. Salman will teach you even that.

I was almost waiting through the movie to watch Salman criss-cross the air with fire a la Garv style . But he didn't. And that is the best thing about the movie. It is crude, but it has no place for histrionics. Another good thing about the movie is that it doesn't take itself seriously. Even the villain Ghani Bhai is more like Crime master Gogo than a Mogambo . Thus what could have turned into a Bam Bam Bigelow , manages to keep its feet together.

The support cast turns out to be a large one , given that Salman is the only major lead here. Ayesha Takia, flaunts her charbi-waala gosht, her charbi-waale lips and manages to do what she was required to do. Mahesh Manjrekar excels in the eternal kutti cheez act and as Vishal Bhardwaj would have us believe that ," Har kutte ka bas ek hi jawaab hota hai-Kaminey" , Salman promptly turns Kamina to get rid of him.

The movie projects Salman as he has been projected by media since ages- bad boy, cool dude, sweet at heart blah..blah..blah. It almost seems that it was made to cash on the media image of Salman. Nevertheless, if you are a fan of Salman, you will love the movie. And if you are not, still watch it ; you might find reasons to like him or the movie.

RAGGED????

"Excuse me, can I talk to you for a moment?"

" Yes, why?"

" Are you from second year?

"No. Third . Why?"

"Can I talk to you for a while?"

"OK"

"What's your name?"

"Let it go. First tell me are you from this college?"

" Yes. Just took admission."

Eyes started glinting. Plams started itching. Steps started springing. Oh WOW!!!! A Fucchha.

Of Birds,Of Bees , Of Nabi's and OF T.Vs

Did your parents have a T.V. at home prior to nine months when you were born? If yes , then chances are that you do not exist. Wait, if you are harboring thoughts of flagging my blog for questioning your very existence. These are not my words, but were put in my mouth ,rather in my pen by this. A full page analysis on Sunday Times of India followed.

When I was in class IX, there used to be question in my syllabus which went like," What are the reasons for the growing population of India?". In answer, there used to be 9 reasons and on no.9 the reason given was," A lot of people in India being poor, do not have any other source of entertainment than sex." Why was it at no.9 intrigued me a lot. Either reasons no 1-8 were more important than this or else the government wanted us kids to believe that there were more important reasons(and causes) of so many children being produced other than sex. But, what intrigues me even more is that what makes the Health minister see the no.9 as a sudden no.1 ?

I have been waiting for this a very long time. Now, everybody who is not from Mars, or hasn't been a serial killer 12 years back and has been in solitary confinement since knows who Harry Potter is . Even my friend's grandmother knows that he is certainly not her next door potter who comes to her every diwali with diyas and all. But who is the Half- BLood Prince? More importantly , why is he here? And most importantly, why is he sharing the dais with the usual protagonist?

Well, if you have read the book, you know the answers inside out. If you have seen the movie, you might actually remember who the Half-Blood Prince is , but the rest of the questions, might sound Greek to you. Why? Well, if you have done both, you know the answer to the "Why?". I was earlier worried, that I might be providing spoilers on the movie through the post.But , I realised....spoilers..hmmm...the book is enough of a spoiler anyway. Wll, since the 3rd part, it has been the other way around; the movie has been spoiling the book. Anyways , if you haven't been able to read the book, the chances of you getting through this post are as bright as Indian team qualifying for the next world cup. Football , that is.

But, wait , don't get me wrong. The movie is quite good actualy . I have a slightly different perspective than the usual reader-watchers coz i watched the first 3 before I read them. And I believe that since part2 this installment is the one whcih stays most true to the book., To subscribe to this view, one has to agree to the fact the purpose of the sixth part is not merely to fond the true identity of Half-BLood Prince, but to discover more about Voldermort. I choose to discount parts 1& 2 as they were so short on volume that that movie scriptwriter was actually a scriptwriter then , not a mere trimmer he has been in parts since.

As expected, the movie does trims away quite a few scenes like it shows only two memories, but still manages to convey a dark look attributed to the presence of young Tom Riddle( played by the nephew of Ralph Fiennes) . The haunted look of his face really make the two memories spectaculary watchable. And at last the cave scene. I have been longing to see it on the celluloid ever sinve I read about it. It has been trimmed, but it still lived upto my expectations. More crucially in the movie, it underlines the indispensablity of Dumbledore. This feeling is omnipresent in the book as an undercurrent and has been found missing in the movie.

The acting from the grey characters like Malfoy, Snape and Bellatrix is specially good. Helena Carter as Bella, gets only a few scenes, but...phew...one can't look more evil. Umbridge can take lessons. Rest also pass muster.

It is definately worth a watch. But one strict warning, Don't watch it dubbed in anything other than english if you don't want to hear rubbish like udanchoh for apparition and ojhal tahkhana for vanishing cabinet.

Raja Ki Aayi Hai Baraat

Kings XI , Chennai Super Kings, Rajasthan Royals, Royal Challengers, everybody is a raja these days, even those who might not have the name tag to proclaim. KKR have the maharja and the king of bollywood rolled into one, Delhi have their own nawab of najafgarh to flaunt and Mumbai has always had sach a prince. The only one, sans any royal blood, Deccan Chargers(huh...) were quite aptly beaten black and blue to the last place in the inaugural edition. Raja se panga!!!! Huh.... And that too with so many of them being around!!!! Wonder what Dukey Banna was crying himself hoarse over in Gulal?? Rajputana?? Welcome to India.

Bloody game..... has a bloody habit of biting you in the wrong places. Otherwise Rajasthan who should have called themselves zamindars in he first place, would have been demoted to being dewans , and a certain test team( I love Dravid though) the good times would have been a reality rather than a mere tagline. IPL2 might be a little different though. After all Dukey Banna wanted a Rajputanaa out of India. South Frica might be a little trickier. NRIPL might turn into Non- Raja IPL soon enough. Now, now the closest thing SA have had to do with royalty have been with an angrez mahrani . Raja????? What's that? A mere sidekick for South Africans . Early indicators seem sure enough- Deccan , Delhi and Mumbai ; the teams sans any royal calling have called early trumps and princes are fast turning into paupers . Dukey Banna!!! Welcome to South Africa. Welcome to non-rajsi honeymoon abroad. Rajputanaa can wait for IPL3.

For now, let the praja have some fun.

Does it Matter?

Does it matter?

When I say yes and you say no,

I say come and you say go.

When I say let’s be friends,

And you say,

“You don’t matter.”

Does it really matter?

Does it matter?

That when life seems so long ,

And I asked you to come along.

With all those nice words you say to me ,

These words were also among,

“Your happiness?

It doesn’t matter.”

Does it really matter then?

Does it matter?

When time will take a funny turn,

After being through every person in the line,

At last you will see my face and learn ,

At the end of line,

I have been there all along,

Through your troubles and through mine.

Possibly, you will finally say,” You did matter , my friend.”

But then I fear dear,

Will all this actually matter then?

My first post . Hmmmmm......

Reminds me of a lot of things.......like Sachin coming out to bat and Gavaskar on air reminding everybody who cared to listen that the first run is the most important.And...........ok let it be, I won't bore myself by flinging such nasty comparisons anymore.

Though the vacuum before that can be quite numbing. Heavily pregnant with endless possibilities. What will one think after reading this? But wait a second, who will care to read it? But wait, wait, before that , how will anybody come to know that anything like this even exists on blogosphere( is that the term? Quite tacky eh....) . But wait,wait,wait.... I got tired of waiting and decided to take the plunge( here I am getting tacky) .Guess the desire to see my name in print outdid me . And also I thought that first I will write for myself, then for anybody else. So what if it's only me who sees it. The last time I saw my name printed was on something called marksheet and it was not a good expereince to say the least(as if they ever are) . Hope this might be better.

But first i would like to extend some acknowledgments and condolences. Thanks to my friend Sayan from whose Blog I copied my URL , though in a badly remixed version, and sorry that I did it without your permission. And next, thanks to Mr. Karl Marx from whose book i borrowed the name of my blog in an even more badly remixed version. And sorry Mr. Marx, I couldn't ask for your permission as dead people hardly fall in the category having the qualification to grant any permission whatsoever. Though I am secretly afraid that that his soul might be thinking of dying all over again on seeing the first name of his magnum opus and "CAPITAL" pronounced together. I tried to post a condolence note to Mr. Prakash Karat though(karl nahi to karat hi sahi) .

I hope Sayan won't kill me .......we have had enough of HEAD banging already. Anyway his sutta and chaska blog was only ever visited by the only girl who is his friend , boyfriend and his girlfriend(take that in any order you wish) . And i really hope that Mr. Karat doesn't retaliate by sending the staff asso. in my college to strike....not that it would make much of a difference though. And last but not the least , actually should have mentioned it first, but my deep condolences to english grammar and language more often than not ,whose murder will be committed and celebrated on my blog.