Is ther any news channel that gives a news that is good news, unbiased news, relevant news? I scratch my head. The dry skin on the scalp disintegerates into 1000 pieces marking a snowfall in liceland. I wish Gibberish news was a channel. OK that gives me an idea. Why not make a channel of bloggers. An internet channel, where movies of daily happenings can be shot on a mobile phone and uploaded on the net. A peoples collective all over the world? Daily news from the people. To save people from uploading porn, we can have an editor for the site. I am sure someone can volunteer for that.
We can take small baby steps to creating a news channel contributed by people all over the country. What say? Anybody game? I am going to try anyways. Anyone can join anytime!!!
Friday, July 27, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
First dream in the first night at my first home
It was my first day at my home – alone. After a long long, really long time, I finally got a house on rent close to my office. The home is a small one, a 1 BHK flat. On the first floor. The only thing I don’t like about the home is that adjacent building windows can peep into my home, if they take the effort to do it. Living on the top floor at my parents house gave me a view that extended to Kanjurmarg. The home towered above rest of the houses and was breezy enough. It might take a little time for me to adjust. Get the curtains, the furniture. All I have right now is a rug and a quilt as my bed, a bean bag as my resting chair. A stove for chaa…
The first thing that struck me is that the house had a layer of dust. So I had to sweep the floor clean and then wipe it too. My colleagues recommended a ‘bai’, but I felt that it is my home, and the reason I shifted is to learn living on my own, without help. And besides with no exercise in our office life, what better than getting down on all fours and wiping 400 sft of floor!
Half an hour of work out (read: sweeping and wiping) and a bath later, I was ready to fall asleep. I put on the AC (It came in the deal) and stared at the ceiling. Surprisingly, I could hear crickets crying. The last I heard them was in my hometown, or probably, it was always there, but I never noticed it. Soon I slumbered into sleep. There was a dream.
I was with a small little girl, Greesha and another child. I was taking them to a film. They were enjoying the film. The film was entertaining. A cartoon film. A film that I had never seen before. I knew she loved it because she was squealing with joy. She was having candy. The fone rang. Greesha and the other child had to return to her home. But she was in no mood to go back. By the time we came out, it was already morning. The fone rings again. The sweet voice at the other end is concerned. ‘Come fast before Ravi gets up or he will be furious’. I take them into the car. As I shut the door, the indicator goes beserk. It makes a noise like my mobile phone. I try switching the indicator off. My eyes open.
Its 6.30. The alarm clock in my mobile phone is ringing. ‘Weird dream’, I think to myself. It was my first dream in the first night at my first home.
The first thing that struck me is that the house had a layer of dust. So I had to sweep the floor clean and then wipe it too. My colleagues recommended a ‘bai’, but I felt that it is my home, and the reason I shifted is to learn living on my own, without help. And besides with no exercise in our office life, what better than getting down on all fours and wiping 400 sft of floor!
Half an hour of work out (read: sweeping and wiping) and a bath later, I was ready to fall asleep. I put on the AC (It came in the deal) and stared at the ceiling. Surprisingly, I could hear crickets crying. The last I heard them was in my hometown, or probably, it was always there, but I never noticed it. Soon I slumbered into sleep. There was a dream.
I was with a small little girl, Greesha and another child. I was taking them to a film. They were enjoying the film. The film was entertaining. A cartoon film. A film that I had never seen before. I knew she loved it because she was squealing with joy. She was having candy. The fone rang. Greesha and the other child had to return to her home. But she was in no mood to go back. By the time we came out, it was already morning. The fone rings again. The sweet voice at the other end is concerned. ‘Come fast before Ravi gets up or he will be furious’. I take them into the car. As I shut the door, the indicator goes beserk. It makes a noise like my mobile phone. I try switching the indicator off. My eyes open.
Its 6.30. The alarm clock in my mobile phone is ringing. ‘Weird dream’, I think to myself. It was my first dream in the first night at my first home.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Chikungunya - A Kerala Story
I came down to Trivandrum on a visit and am on my way to Chennai. Landed Yesterday morning, i was in for a shock. There was a Hartal decided in Gods Own Country. The reason? A disease - Chikungunya, Tomato Fever. I scratched my short haired head. Scratched it twice, thrice... The concept seemed novel. A communist state, who doesnt believe in the concept of God is called Gods Own Country. So much for branding.
Further, when Communism is all about the hard working class of people, the people here are in the hardly working sector. Obviously, i don't understand the fact that a Hartal would get the mosquitoes to reform. Here is the classic case that would be seen in Kerala, outside a swamp full of mosquitoes.
Party Leader: Bandh karo bai bandh kora, bimari failana bandh karo!
Chamcha: PL hamara neta hai, sabka dard leta hai!
PL: Atyachar bandh karo, Khoon choosna bandh karo
Chamcha: Jab tak sooraj chaand rahega, PL bhai ka naam rahega!
Next to them on the border of the swamp is the Environmental Rights Activists dharna. They are staging a silent dharna with swanky mosquito headgears, in support of the mosquitoes.
Placard 1: The mosquitoes cant express themselves, and biting is the only way they communicate. Be mosquito friendly for an environmental peaceful world!
Placard 2: Chicken Gunya ya Chicken Tikka, Save the chickens. They are a gift to nature.
Placard 3: Mosquitoes and Chickens have feelings too! They feel hurt when you swat them.
Inside the swamp, two mosquitoes are in an indepth discussion.
Mosquito 1: I think this is going to revolutionize the industry.
Mosquito 2: This is one of the firsts in the New Medica Industry. Booble is interested in acquiring us. This is the most innovative and expandable form of new medica business strategies. We have achieved over 1 million hits with around 10% conversion into medical ill Health.
Mosquito 1: How much are they offering?
Mosquito 2: I think we can sustain on our own. We can later buy out Booble.
Mosquito 1: How can you be so sure?
Mosquito 2: I have tied up with the local parties and Environmentalists. They have struck a deal with us to provide their clients and are at the waiting room with them. They are dying to meet us...
Further, when Communism is all about the hard working class of people, the people here are in the hardly working sector. Obviously, i don't understand the fact that a Hartal would get the mosquitoes to reform. Here is the classic case that would be seen in Kerala, outside a swamp full of mosquitoes.
Party Leader: Bandh karo bai bandh kora, bimari failana bandh karo!
Chamcha: PL hamara neta hai, sabka dard leta hai!
PL: Atyachar bandh karo, Khoon choosna bandh karo
Chamcha: Jab tak sooraj chaand rahega, PL bhai ka naam rahega!
Next to them on the border of the swamp is the Environmental Rights Activists dharna. They are staging a silent dharna with swanky mosquito headgears, in support of the mosquitoes.
Placard 1: The mosquitoes cant express themselves, and biting is the only way they communicate. Be mosquito friendly for an environmental peaceful world!
Placard 2: Chicken Gunya ya Chicken Tikka, Save the chickens. They are a gift to nature.
Placard 3: Mosquitoes and Chickens have feelings too! They feel hurt when you swat them.
Inside the swamp, two mosquitoes are in an indepth discussion.
Mosquito 1: I think this is going to revolutionize the industry.
Mosquito 2: This is one of the firsts in the New Medica Industry. Booble is interested in acquiring us. This is the most innovative and expandable form of new medica business strategies. We have achieved over 1 million hits with around 10% conversion into medical ill Health.
Mosquito 1: How much are they offering?
Mosquito 2: I think we can sustain on our own. We can later buy out Booble.
Mosquito 1: How can you be so sure?
Mosquito 2: I have tied up with the local parties and Environmentalists. They have struck a deal with us to provide their clients and are at the waiting room with them. They are dying to meet us...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Jihad - 32 Virgins in heaven
My Mac turned one today. I called him Makkan toast after Macintosh. A day of joy and sorrow. Joy, obviously because having a Mac laptop was what I craved for ever since I knew about Apple. Sorrow, because it was the same day the blasts happened. 7/11. Shocking memories. I know of a friend’s father who passed away in the blasts.
What did they gain out of it? What could anyone gain out of killing masses of people that you personally don’t even know? I tried to prod into the terrorist’s mind. I tried to think like him.
The terrorist, sitting in the car planning to drive into a busy street and blast the car and kill masses…
“I have to kill them, kill them all. They don’t follow my religion. My religion teaches me the best and no other religion talks the truth. I must kill them all. What if a child is there? Does he know what religion is? I should kill them all. It is for God. It is a holy war. What if that man has helped many people? What if he was kind to everyone, including people from our religion? I must kill them all. It’s the holy war. 32 virgins are waiting for me in heaven. I don’t care if they die.”
He rams his explosive car into a building. There is a numbing silence after the blast. The man feels his soul lifting from his body. His soul looks around. There is total destruction. Blood flowing everywhere. Debris left from the carnage all over the place.
“What did I do? There is so much sorrow” His soul writhes in pain “I am going to get 32 virgins in heaven. I did the right thing” His soul enters the gates of heaven. There are 32 women waiting for him. He is ecstatic. His dream has come true. The mentors indeed spoke the truth. He is taken to a chamber and is undressed. Oops!! He is castrated! ‘This is not fair!’ He cries out to God. He cries inconsolably. One of the virgin maiden comes to him and consoles him.
‘You are not the only one’ she says. ‘Every soldier of the Holy war comes here and cries like you.’ The man looks up in surprise. ‘Why do you think we are virgins?’
What did they gain out of it? What could anyone gain out of killing masses of people that you personally don’t even know? I tried to prod into the terrorist’s mind. I tried to think like him.
The terrorist, sitting in the car planning to drive into a busy street and blast the car and kill masses…
“I have to kill them, kill them all. They don’t follow my religion. My religion teaches me the best and no other religion talks the truth. I must kill them all. What if a child is there? Does he know what religion is? I should kill them all. It is for God. It is a holy war. What if that man has helped many people? What if he was kind to everyone, including people from our religion? I must kill them all. It’s the holy war. 32 virgins are waiting for me in heaven. I don’t care if they die.”
He rams his explosive car into a building. There is a numbing silence after the blast. The man feels his soul lifting from his body. His soul looks around. There is total destruction. Blood flowing everywhere. Debris left from the carnage all over the place.
“What did I do? There is so much sorrow” His soul writhes in pain “I am going to get 32 virgins in heaven. I did the right thing” His soul enters the gates of heaven. There are 32 women waiting for him. He is ecstatic. His dream has come true. The mentors indeed spoke the truth. He is taken to a chamber and is undressed. Oops!! He is castrated! ‘This is not fair!’ He cries out to God. He cries inconsolably. One of the virgin maiden comes to him and consoles him.
‘You are not the only one’ she says. ‘Every soldier of the Holy war comes here and cries like you.’ The man looks up in surprise. ‘Why do you think we are virgins?’
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Sivaji - The Boss
Have you ever experienced the Rajnikanth fever. I remember vaguely some 15 years back. I was in Madras and my cousin took me to a movie. It was houseful and there was hardly anyone sitting in the first row. I wondered why! And then the inevitable happened, Rajnikanth made his entry. Coins were thrown on the screen and so did missiles of coconuts! The coconut was then distributed as prasad to the viewers. That was my introduction to Rajni. Rajni can do anything. He is a style icon. The films are beyond imagination. Who else do you think can do such ridiculous things with such panache? Think for a minute, a day, or a week and you know no one can come close to touch him. The only person who attempted that once was Mithun. But Rajni prevailed and that is the mark of a true Superstar!
I dont know whether i loved Sivaji or hated it. But I truly enjoyed it. Some enjoyed it for 'i dont know why' and some enjoyed at the panache of absurdity shown so real. Come Superman, Spiderman, Batman, Incredibles, there can be many superheroes, but there can be no one like Rajnikanth. Come to think of it, he is 60, but the fact that he can act as a 30 something, woo women, fight baddies and reform the country, come out of deadly situations without a scratch, is phenomenal. He makes flipping a coin a style. I wouldnt be surprised if you see young lads in chennai flipping a coin on the roads. That is what makes a style icon, he makes mundane things stylish.
The other thing that was amazing about this film was the multiplex. PVR, usually a haven for couples, college going guys with bulging arms and petite girls all the while pulling down their short t-shirts, looked like a big South Indian wedding. There were women dressed up with jewellery, gajras, men in lungis with horizontal white thikas who strolled the multiplex. It was a pleasant thing to see. It makes you feel that they have come to see something really important in their lives.
The film doesnot have logic. The success of the film does not have logic. It has made 450 crores and still counting. There is absolutely no logic to anything. But somethings in life should be left alone, without logic!
I dont know whether i loved Sivaji or hated it. But I truly enjoyed it. Some enjoyed it for 'i dont know why' and some enjoyed at the panache of absurdity shown so real. Come Superman, Spiderman, Batman, Incredibles, there can be many superheroes, but there can be no one like Rajnikanth. Come to think of it, he is 60, but the fact that he can act as a 30 something, woo women, fight baddies and reform the country, come out of deadly situations without a scratch, is phenomenal. He makes flipping a coin a style. I wouldnt be surprised if you see young lads in chennai flipping a coin on the roads. That is what makes a style icon, he makes mundane things stylish.
The other thing that was amazing about this film was the multiplex. PVR, usually a haven for couples, college going guys with bulging arms and petite girls all the while pulling down their short t-shirts, looked like a big South Indian wedding. There were women dressed up with jewellery, gajras, men in lungis with horizontal white thikas who strolled the multiplex. It was a pleasant thing to see. It makes you feel that they have come to see something really important in their lives.
The film doesnot have logic. The success of the film does not have logic. It has made 450 crores and still counting. There is absolutely no logic to anything. But somethings in life should be left alone, without logic!
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