Replug

As I relentlessly hammered in my last post that I was in the organising team of the Annual Get-together of my firm and I did nothing, this post is all about the work I did for that. These posters and the write up at the end for some magazine I have no idea about.

The design was not by me, only the words were.

This was entirely done by me.

This was also done by me

The name was suggested by a colleague.

The background was contributed by a colleague, the rest by me. Though the original lines went something like these

“ We still snarl ‘kutte’ to our friends at times,

That hot girl is still ‘Chamiya’ for us,

People with “Thakur” as surnames are still asked for their hands at times.

And still more jokes are made on Sholay that on our politicians.”

And then followed all that is written on the poster. But it all was edited out.

And the write up is

“The evening began with poise and ended with exuberance. In an nutshell, that was the ambience, tone and the general spirit at the annual family night “Spandan’ we had on 26^th of November.

 From buffets to drinks, from dancing troupes to employee dance performances, from casino to karaoke, from lucky draw to fashion shows ,  from musical shows to couple games and from kid games to childhood picture games, we tried to incorporate all. The fact that there was fantastic enthusiasm and participation shown from the employees and their families obviously spiced it all up.

  There was a mesmerizing semi classical Indian dance performance by the daughter of one our colleague while another of our colleague chose to partner his son on “Tabla” an Indian percussion instrument to result in an utterly mellifluous ballad. A tiny tot’s dance performance completely belied her age and some of our colleagues who tried to copy her steps are still recovering from cramps!! While a senior colleague chose to remind us of his splendid skills with harmonica, the innovative couple games involved such twists and turns that the participating couples were left exercising those muscles and bones of their bodies they never knew existed.

 A family event that it was, it never could have been complete without the involvement of the newest addition to our CH2M HILL family- The Halcrow Group. Several Halcrow employees were also present and delighted us all with their active participation. One of them actually won First Prize in the Fashion Show event. Well Done Sir.

 A memorable night was rendered truly momentous with the verve of participation from one and all. It really was a night to dance, jive and feel alive.”

Any creative media agency reading this post and liking it ? Anyone?? 

Bored Ruminations

It has been four months since I have been employed. And the only thing I have learnt apart form the fact that you actually wish your colleagues “Happy Weekend” on Fridays is to unlearn the theory that you have to work a lot while you are being employed while I was in college. Well, another thing I have learnt of course is that your supervisor will come to look for you to fill timesheets, to tell you about some non-technical training, asking you about the coming get-together, hand you your termination letter at the exact time on which you will not be present at your “work”place. Ok, he didn’t come to hand me my termination letter, but maybe he did come and didn’t find me anywhere. But Murphy taught us all this years back. Didn’t he? So there goes my chance to “learn” anything  because just learnt that before I should have learnt that. Frankly, why are you still reading this post??

And even more frankly, I don’t know why I am writing this post.  May be plain boredom at work. F act that I was in the organising team of our Annual Get-together, fiction that I actually helped in that organising. Fact that Internet has now marked my blogspot blog URl as a phishing address, fiction that I actually harboured fishes there. I even deleted the widget “Feed these Fishes”, but to no avail. Fact that I am thinking of buying a personal domain, fiction that I will actually do so. Fact that I am writing something meant to be a blogpost, fiction that I will actually post it. Ok, did you just say that it is not fiction that I will post this as you can read this blogpost. You too are damned bored right now, aren’t you?

So, if you are still with me you may have read that I was in the organising team of the Annual get-together of my firm. Forgive me if I make that sound like organising of Olympics, but still there were lessons to learn it. Like how to shop with ladies. “Shopping”, “Ladies” and “Men” have difficulty in existing together. I knew that beforehand, but I learnt it now. Then naming an event is the most difficult part and you have to start with that. Or that lucky numbers are not really lucky. Actually we had a lucky draw prize based on the coupon numbers allotted with the invitations to employees. Now as the organisers , some of has had first access to the coupons and selected numbers like 123, 111, 013, 007 or like in order to get lucky. But the numbers which won were 072, 078 and we realised that the numbers we thought were lucky were actually only good looking numbers. On second thoughts, 13 x 6 = 78. Now did you tell me to shut up?

Another lesson I learnt was that while expats got to know about the timing of event , 5.30 pm that is  by looking at the invitation card and arrive at that time , we Indians never require the invitation card to know about the timing. Like we Indians all arrived at 7.30 and that was the time the event started. Telepathy, anyone?

Also, recently we had a Rewards and Recognition felicitation at our office which is held to reward the outstanding performers of the last 3 months. Only, this time it was a little different. Instead of rewarding people with outstanding work in the last 3 months, the management decided to award everybody who worked in the last 3 months. And the awardees were in total 5 in number.

And at last, as the year draws to a close, it reminds of the number of great people we lost this year. Along with Shammi Kapoor and Dev Anand , the person whose work I liked the most was Shrilal Shukl. And,

मैं श्रीलाल शुक्ल के बारे में कुछ नहीं लिखना चाहूँगा 

क्योंकि वो शब्द सूरज को ना सिर्फ दीया, बल्कि माचिस दिखाने के जैसा

होगा, वो भी बुझी हुई माचिस ।

And to conclude , I must admit that I have not seen many movies of either Shammi Kapoor Or Dev Anand, but of all the old songs I love and they are far greater in number than the new ones, I realised few days back that 90% of them star either Shammi Kapoor or Dev Anand. RIP All.

My way or Subway???

I have gone impolite these days. Just like some say that impossible can be read as I M Possible, I am wondering that if impolite can be read as I M Polite. Actually that was what I was shouting in front of the mirror in the bath room when my reflection shouted back, “impolite” at me and asked me to shut up. Now, if you believe this story to be true, then you are the exact kind of people I love to be reading my blog.  Those who will believe anything and everything I say. And trust me , I will behave absolutely the same when I get to your blog as well.

So the other day, I went to a subway outlet. Now if  you do not know what a subway outlet is , go and thank whatever God you pray to for your “ignorance”. And to add to that, you shall go to the top right corner of your browser and press that close button. Because I might  just describe “Subway” in this post. It will lose me a few readers (if any) , but the greater good, you know and all that . Subway is a place where the idea of making a cool burger is to put in stuff Italian people do  not like to eat into ice cold bread loaves. It is a place where you always stand  confused on the counter where they ask you to choose between 5 different types of breads , scores of  different ingredients and many different sauces and you just cannot decide which combination  is likely to be the least worst of all.  But  this time, well ….

“ Which bread Sir?”

“ Honey Oat please.”

“Sorry Sir, that is not available.”

“Then I will have umm… Italian Herb & Cheese.”

“ Actually even that is not available Sir. Only Parmesan Oregano is available.”

I was stumped.

“Then why did you ask?”

“Sir, because I am asked to  ask.”

I wonder whether I have gone impolite or there is something in the whole Subway atmosphere itself.

A question

The time has gone beyond me ,

The “phoney” conversations now only make me sad

I don’t even wish to turn around time

Can we please put an end to this charade?

Just a passing thought....

Mere Brother Ki Dulhan and My Conundrum

I am wondering these days whether I can review movies. I have consistently held , even if not in written word in all my posts about everything written being my view, not review. I am not qualified enough to be a critic. Because for one, I liked “Mere Brother Ki dulhan” and loathed “That Girl in yellow Boots.”  If I were a critic, the adjectives used for these movies would have been opposite. Or I might have even loved That Girl…. So technically I am not a critic. Taran Adarsh is a critic, because he loved “That Girl in Yellow Boots” and gave it 4 stars. According to him, the finale hit him like a ton of bricks. Everybody I know of who were fateful enough to watch that -yes all three of us-  had guessed what the end is going to look like. But then , Taran Adarsh likes anything. He is the antithesis of Devil’s Advocate. He gave “Mere Brother ki Dulhan” 4 stars as well . Actually he gave “Do Knot Disturb” (you remember?)  3.5 stars. Actually Mark Zuckerberg told me that the Facebook  like button using which you can like statuses which condole somebody’s death as well was inspired by Taran Adarsh. Actually.. ok you get the point, right?

Sometimes I miss the point of Anuraag Kashyap’s movies. But in “That girl in yellow boots” I missed the whole game. I simply do not want to go to a movie to do brain exercise to deduce the various acts and scenes which are the supposed illustrations of various degrees of subtleties a film maker can achieve   . Was the massage parlour symbolising the greasing of palm one is required to do to get every governmental job done? Was the constant chattering of the owner of the parlour a connotation for the constant din in the protagonist’s life? Did the character of Naseeruddin Shah typified the father Ruth never had? Did  the yellow boots symbolise…Oh leave it. Did the yellow boots symbolise anything at all? I don’t want to find out. I wanted to get entertained when I spend my 200 bucks, which did not happen. I can find numerous “Find the difference” and “Find the similarities” games on internet for free. And in my honest opinion, Kalki is not that fine an actress either as she is touted to be. Does acting only comprise of a grim mood, dark environment, shrieks, and hysterics?  I am no fan of acting of Katrina Kaif, but for me she was good in MBKD. She gave good expressions importantly at the right times, rolled her eyes well and conveyed appropriate amount of devilry through them. I never imagined that I will ever write such lines for Katrina, but she was good. But still she has been panned by critics. Guess that is what it takes to be a critic. The usual reaction “That girl in yellow boots” elicits is that of shock. I mean that is what I have been told. And I wonder what is so shocking about it. Is it child molestation or incest? Now, do we need a movie to tell us that these exist in reality? So, why seeing reality on the big screen shocks them? Is it because anytime we go to see a movie, they expect to see escapist cinema? Then why does watching something like “Mere Brother Ki dulhan” which is escapist cinema at its core disappoints them? And if they do not expect that, why get shocked at seeing something like “That Girl In yellow Boots” ? I do not expect to get answers. May be it is the taste thing. Rom-coms are anyway panned universally by critics with rare exceptions. But then , why would someone go to a romcom expecting to be shocked? Or expect that one will have anything different from a “run –of-the-mill” good ending? Or expect that if two people are protagonists, somehow they will not end up together just to provide a different ending? Now did anyone really expect Katrina Kaif to get hitched to  Ali Zafar  movie when  Imran Khan with all his Bollywood connection is lurking around? Really? But for me , I do not go to watch movies for the sole purpose of expecting to get shocked. Better I will sit at home and search YouTube for shocking videos instead. I go to get entertained. Simply put, MBKD with all its flaws, entertained me .  That girl in Yellow Boots didn’t despite it’s several subtleties which the critics regularly found orgasmic. Besides what was left in That girl in Yellow Boots if you could guess the end and take away the “shock”  as happened to me , is pretty much still unclear to me. Was it this trailer which is doing the rounds these days? Ch***yappa and handshake? Please don’t tell me that this trailer has not been released just to lure the so- called “ front benchers” using lewd gestures and slang language. If that is the truth, then why carry the pretence of being an off-beat, classy movie?

 Phew… Ok, enough of ranting now. Now did I  give you the impression that MBKD is a hugely entertaining, sugar-sweet, “Four Wedding and a Funeral-esque” funny movie which attains the climactic heights any romcom can aspire to get to ? No, it is  not surely. It is actually a silly movie actually. So silly that it shows BEST buses outside IGI Airport , Delhi. Actually it was more silly that Billy trying to do a wheelie in the rush hour traffic in apni Dilli and it is more clichéd than the word “Clichéd” has becomes a cliché to describe romcom movies. And  the movie is more silly than the last sentence I framed. It has the leading pair who on the account of their last few misadventures are quite proven to be incapable of acting. And if it was not enough, there is John Abraham as well for a quick dekko with his non-existent expressions. I have a theory regarding why Bipasha dumped him. Because he couldn’t “express” his love for her.  It has Imran khan , who had he been an animal would have had 4 left feet trying to “ape” the dance steps of the three Khans.  Now that is only possible if one Khan is your Uncle and you can be relatively assured that he will not sue you for doing that. Now , what is stopping the other two Khans from suing him, I don’t know. They have a camp right in front of The Tajmahal . Surely, Mayawati will want to know more about that. May be we will se a 5 star hotel in just that place in the coming days. And if you want to do better video calls than as those shown in Reliance ads, you should consider acting in movies. I have always doubted Reliance’s ability to deliver but this movie removes all doubts that the best video calls happen in movies and movies only. And that is about its silliness. Additionally it is clichéd at innumerable places.

But you will enjoy the movie if you expect beforehand that it is going to be silly and clichéd like all romantic movies are. I mean which is the last actress you remember who married a books store owner in reality? But that did not stop Notting Hill from being what it was. Love Actually was actually full of stupidity. But it was also full of love. They were good because they made you feel good and they were not bad just because they were stupid and clichéd. Mere brother Ki Dulhan does that, though to only an extent. But then that is why it is not Notting Hill or Love Actually. But who says that film making can only be Sholay on one side and RGV ki Aag on other? 

Pehli Salary

“Pehli salary badi kamini cheez hoti hai" 

It makes you happy. It is beyond anything you have ever experienced. You suddenly want to buy things. Anything. Just go buy it. In my case the day I got my first salary, I wanted to buy even those shirts on the footpath which you get at the rate of 1 for 100 bucks. But that is the story of only the first day. Very soon you realise that you can you have more than peanuts in your pocket and you can actually afford a shirt which costs 1 for 1000 bucks. And then gradually you come to know that not only that, you can also afford a gamepad which cost 1500 though earlier the one costing 150 used to be good enough. And then you aspire for a Xbox itself. Then may be a bike , the aspiration of which will soon turn into the one for a car. And all this khyali pulao takes place within two to three days of receiving your first salary. Just deep within you know that you can actually have all those aspirations.  And then before you know , all the money is spent. It just vanishes. And then the wish gets changed.  The wish becomes a wait. Wait for the next salary.  In other words you start aspiring for money. That is why , “ Pehli salary badi kamini cheez hoti hai.” 

It makes you  love money and disrespect it at the same time. You want to buy the world with it and yet want to lock it in a case and throw the key in a pond. It suddenly makes you aware of the capabilities of money. And that is worse than a lot of bad things you can ever think of. That is why , “ Pehli salary badi kamini cheez hoti hai.”

MY DADIMA

(Today is my Grandmother's (Dadima) 5th barsi. I wrote this shortly after her death. I don't know what made me post this today. But just posting it.
P.S- I dont remember what actually was the "it" that follows)

It  brought  flushing inside me memories of my own grandmother, dadima to us. Sometimes it seems that  she is just beside me , sometimes it seems it had been  ages since she called my name .  The funy thing death is , gives every moment of introspection a dual personality.

                                          Dadima was a deeply religious person , as all the woman of her age generally are.  She never had a very happy life- getting widowed at an age of 29. But still she had a amajing rock of belief in almighty. But what amazes me even more is that why I was able to see these things only after she died. She was so religious that once we tried to tell her that man has reached moon , she said that god lives there and flatly refused to believe that any mortal can intrude his abode. Life was going on and she was just like any other member of my family like my parents or my sister. I did not share any special bonding with her as a lot of people do with their grandparents. But then , she died. Dadima  just passed away.

                                                         Is was not as if she died all of a sudden . She had been suffering from cancer for 2 years . But somehow it made the inevitability of death strike me . And ironically , life around me changed its meaning for me . Life around me became special from being routine. Earlier, my parents were too by the way for me , they were there because they were meant to be there, but now they are a gift , because ther are with me . Funnily enough it took a death to realise me that. Earlier a seat in bus was too precious ; Now every lady is like dadima. Earlier if a friend broke my heart, I wouldn’t have given a damn , now it cries for reversal of time . Probably,  that feeling of loss is etched upon. Saying sorry has become easier , because I have realised that there are far more important things in life than one’s ego and certainly far worse thngs than having it damaged.    Earlier friends were routine , they were there because they probably needed me. Now every moment with them is to be cherished , because  at some other time , they might not be there. The feeling of being with loved ones has changed its complexion , because tomorrow I might be far away , left with only memories and , memories never suffice.  Loss is inevitable , just that notion of bidding adieu has changed. And I thank my dadima for that.

                  Sonetimes , I think that how crass I have been for a death to make me realise that. But come to think of it, if instead my neighbour’s aunt would have died , would that have made any difference to me ?  Never , though I would readily pray hundred times a day for my dadima to make her come back if I could. It just makes me realise that though I never stopped to think of whether I loved her , I probably did, a lot actually, enough to make me love everyone with life . If she is reading this somehow, from any where Dadima, probably , she would understand a lot of things left unsaid. Because that was what she always was. Ethereal in life , larger than life in death . My Dadima.