Bored !!

It’s time to get bored. While the entire world is celebrating December as Anti-Boredom Month with vacations, festivals and parties lined up, I am yawning my way to office. How am I doing on my boredom meter??? Well lets see... really bad, infact getting worse by every passing minute. With only reality horror shows, Ruchika’s trial and nth time repetition of bollywood flicks, Idiot box, is the last resort. Friends are either at home spending time with parents/friends or merely on a mega world tour vacation to chill out and welcome the New Year in a very serene, relaxed and high-spirited way. I’m in Bangalore :( working and attending office daily. Why? Coz I don’t have leaves and no plans to go home. The good/bad part of working with an International organization is that there is literally no major work in the last 2 weeks of December. And to top it all; Recession has slowed down things a lot. Now at this time of the year, people are getting less work to do. Off late people are free and do not have much to work. All colleagues who stayed back like me are catching up on the pending work by filling pages and pages of performance appraisals. Hey am not talking about myself. Common work and me? I have this reputation of being the laziest creature on the planet and I have to live up to that. With year-end closure and holiday season, I am as free as the stainless steel chammach that comes free with Brooke Bond Tea and I am loving it. Like every normal human being I also look for number of long weekends when the next years calendars are released. Like everyone I was yearning for holidays. But now with holidays round the corner, and left alone in the city, am not excited. I am bored to death and let me count you the evidences of getting bored. I am playing all kinds of stupid games on facebook. You can see a lot of activity going on there. I started watching some brainless reality shows and CID on TV (not suicidal to watch K serials though). I am reading all org announcements of unknown people joining GE and several other countless brainless activities to keep myself from going insane. I’ve also attended my colleagues child’s 1st birthday parties… It’s the holiday season and I’m all-alone on this planet earth. Well at office I have to fill out my performance appraisal forms like everone else and IT returns to be filed- which is monotonous and I despise it. I am not able to go home as it was not planned earlier and now the flight expenses are exorbitantly high. Sigh…. So here I am vegetating in Bangalore winters and literally doing nothing. I love it. I love my life… :(

Kurbaan

Lots have been said, written and exressed about "Kurbaan". So better late than never I thought I should also put my views in black and white before the movies effect fades away. I watched the movie last week with friends and trust me this is something you must watch if you havent. I'm sure many would agree that It's the most powerful film to come out of Dharma Productions continuing to make history with the letter "K". Many film makers have narrated story with a backdrop of terrorism but nothing as profound, thought-provoking and dramatic as Kurbaan.

Rensil D'silva who has chosen a burning issue like terrorism as his launchpad comes out with flying colors making one suspect if he's really a debutant. Though some draw parallels with recent movies like Fanaa and New York, Kurbaan is totally different with only one similarity being terrorism as backdrop. Despite its long running time of nearly 3 hours the director maintains the pace and keeps the audience glued to the screen. The best part is there's not even a single dull moment and every 10-15 minutes there is a twist which completely gets you unaware and hooked to the screen. The last half hour of climax is unpredictable and keeps you totally off the edge. Songs which are important part of our Indian cinema were already the chartbusters. They have gelled perfectly with the sequences without any lip sync.

Now coming to the actors- Saif has already proved himself as a fine actor and he is superb when he plays wicked. The transformation of his character from a charming college professor to cold blodded terrorsit is awesome. Kareena scores high with her acting and looks- No doubt on that. Vivek Oberoi also comes up with flying colors in his pivotal role though his american accent sounds very fake. No words for legends like Om Puri and kirron Kher who set new standards for themselves. Kirron however was a surprise element which was totally unexpected of.

On a whole, KURBAAN deserves all the superlative accolades its fetching being the most powerful film to come out of the Hindi film fraternity in 2009, so far. The film has a captivating plot, gripping screenplay, superb performances and a climax that shakes you up completely. In short its no ordinary bollywood masala flick, rather something that will spike your brain cells to think. If you havent watched it yet, you missed something !! In short fultoo paisa wasool.

Lost in Transit

The Bucket List

Today I happen to see "The Bucket List". Academy Award winners Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman star in the comedy drama," a touching, no-holds-barred adventure that shows it's never too late to live life to its fullest. Morgan Freemans' philosophy professor suggested that his students compose a "bucket list," a collection of all the things they wanted to do, see and experience in life before they kicked the bucket. But while Morgan was still trying to define his private dreams and plans, reality intruded in the form of Marriage, children, myriad responsibilities and gradually turned his concept of a bucket list into little more than a bittersweet memory of lost opportunities. Meanwhile, corporate billionaire Jack Nicholson who was always too busy making money and building an empire to think about what his deeper needs ends up in Morgans cabin. Thats when life delivers an urgent and unexpected wake-up call to both of them. Both decide not to give up or hope for some miracle. They decide to persue their pressing desire to spend the left out time doing everything they ever wanted to do before kicking the bucket. So against doctors order and family's refusal two virtual strangers hit the road together for the adventure of a lifetime- from the Taj Mahal to the Pyramids, the finest restaurants to the seediest tattoo parlors, the cockpit of vintage race cars to the open door of a prop plane- with just a sheet of paper, Adding and crossing items off their list while taking in the grandeur and beauty of the world.

The movie really made me think to work on my bucket list as well. Everyone have some unfulfiled desires and sometimes we just need a deadline to get our life in gear.

And they say life sucks !!

Standing Ovation

In a bizarre order, which stink of a feudal mindset, the Rajasthan government has issued a diktat to all its employees, making it mandatory for them to stand up and greet the visiting MPs or MLAs. Have you ever heard of anything more wacky order as such? Ever since I was a child, I was taught that respect is something you command not demand. Such order really questions the credibility of the Rajasthan government in taking a step towards progress. This also makes one think are we moving from developing country to an under developed one? For heavens sake we are in democratic country in 21st century and this is a not a jungle raj. The order clearly states to show proper respect and regard to a Member of Parliament (MP) and a Member of Legislative Assembly (MLA) especially when they come visiting. The government employees have been asked to stand up when the MP or MLA come to visit them.They have also been told to see them off personally, by actually leaving their rooms and work, among other things. As per TOI, Chief Minister Ashok Gehlot’s government says that what the government employees are being asked to do is nothing new, but just a part of the Indian culture. Why for every baseless thing we do, we cover it up by saying it’s our culture. It’s preposterous to pass on something like this and justify it by saying it’s our culture. Agreed it’s our culture, then why do we need an order for this? Is the government suggesting that people are cultureless? We Indians are taught by birth “atithi devo bhava” and we do treat our guests with due respect. Politicians like Shibu Soren started his political career by using mob attacks. Rabri Devi who was as smart asa cow was chief Minister of Bihar. Off late one MP of Andhra Pradesh has slapped a bank manager. With politicians having such a bad reputation how would anyone agree to such a demeaning order and show respect? This is a heinous act and I wonder how the ruling party has agreed something like this to be circulated. These are the incidents that hold us back from being in the league of developed countries. Like the roots hold the plant from movement, we also cling on to our culture anytime we want to pass on any such nuisance. I guess it’s high time that we stand upto such issues and raise our voice, use our freedom to speech.

Innovative Choreography !!

My name is (NOT) KHAN !!

Last week I woke up to the news of SRK’s detention at Newark Airport. Too much heat, hatred, emotions and god knows what all were generated by the 60 minute detention of Shah Rukh Khan by the US airport authorities. The Page 3 crowd has been vociferous in condemning the 'evil empire' and the whole episode is being portrayed as if an assault to India's dignity. Wake up people SRK doesn't represent the collective honour of 1 billion people. (Nor does Dhoni or Rahul Gandhi for that matter!). After reading the paper and watching the breaking news (as portrayed by media) I couldn’t stop myself from writing the post. Many of my friends flew to US whose names are neutral and they are neither Muslims nor their name ends with Khan. They don’t have a police records and they are not linked to any terrorist links also. But, still they are stopped, checked and questioned at airports. But they didn’t protest or cried like a crybaby and yelled or screamed-Discrimination! Racial profiling! Yankee dadagiri! Religious persecution!” Immigration Officials were just doing their job to keep their country safe that’s it. What might seem irrational for an onlooker is nothing but mere following of their responsibilities as immigration officers. Well its not India, where the rules are meant to be broken to accommodate anyone who confidently delivers: “pata hai main kaun hun?” or “pata hai mera baap kaun hai?” Come on- lets get real. SRK might be an icon to Indians; even to the desi Diaspora spread across the globe, but to America he’s just a visitor. We may be convinced he cannot be involved in anything that’s remotely violent, but the guard given the responsibility of stopping something like 9/11 from happening in his country again will want to take no chances. It is quite ridiculous that Indians feel their icons are everybody’s icons. What the heck? If Jet Li came to India tomorrow, very few would give him a second look. Matt Damon was here recently and there wasn’t a traffic jam in Delhi. These guys are huge back home. Moreover, America doesn’t have a culture of fawning the way India does. Mike Tyson was treated like a common rapist and spent most part of his youth in the slammer. Winona Ryder was sentenced to a three-year probation for shoplifting. We are actually aggrieved because we are ‘‘not like them’’. Guess what, it isn’t a virtue. We should be like them and take the security of our country with solemn, no-nonsense professionalism. Frisk Brad Pitt when he lands in India next. Give Tom Cruise the same dose. Don’t spare Bill Clinton either. Isn’t he an exprez, just like Kalam? Who’s stopping us and what’s stopping us? Colonial hangover? Or is it plain callousness? Looks like both. SRK says he’s ‘‘upset and angry because it was his Muslim name that caused all this’’. Countless Muslims are made to go through extra security checks everyday in America and other Western countries. Is he equally upset at that? He’s probably just miffed that it happened to him, India’s mega star. Well, America is a different country post 9/11, one that takes the killings of its people with the seriousness it deserves, unlike India whose record on this is shameful. Does anyone recall the movie titled, Sarfarosh? The story revolved around a famous singer from Pakistan who was much loved in India and was a toast to the millions of Indian fans but he eventually turned out to be a terrorist. Now we all know that that was a movie but sometimes the reel life can resemble the real life. If a Hansie Crownie, the much-respected South African cricketer can be a match-fixing enabler then anyone can be anything. At least theoretically! Nobody should be exempt from detailed scrutiny if the initial checks point out that more detailed checks are required. After all who could have imagined that the lovable Munna Bhai once kept an AK 47 in his house! Not long back if the former Defence Minister of India can be searched and the most revered ex-President of India can be frisked, then surely SRK can be detained too. Is a film star to be attached more importance than the former President of our republic? In India we take everything very seriously and attach our emotions to it. It is the country, which has temples for Amitabh Bachchan and Rajnikanth why?? because some people think they are great actors. We give undue credit to cricketers, politicians, and film stars. If they’re in a queue we let them pass through, if they are visiting a city the entire security and traffic is diverted. In India every 3rd person is a self proclaimed VIP asking for VIP treatment wherever they go. We Indians are too used to VIP treatment, even at the cost of security considerations. We are just whimpering over here like hurt puppies because we feel, ‘‘Oh, but we don’t do it to them’’. Oh no, we don’t. And it’s a scandal. We should. Instead of making SRK’s detention an issue, we should think of upgrading our own security apparatus. There’s a lesson in this — a positive one. The bottom line: Stop fawning, shed the colonial hangover and make no compromise where the country’s safety is concerned. It is time our movie stars, politicians, cricketers and other ‘self-proclaimed VVIPs’ wake up to few international ground realities and think of themselves as mortals. The outside world is neither interested nor impressed by any individual’s local status or bank balance. It is not about fans waving and asking for autographs. It is not about claiming friendship with Hillary Clinton or Obama. You may be India’s biggest business tycoon or Desi Superstar. But out there you are an anonymous nobody - nothing more and nothing less than a name and a number – deal with it.

The Last Past Week

I landed from my flight and to my dismay I felt as if I entered a blast furnace. That was my first feeling when I landed in Indira Gandhi International Airport on Saturday morning at 9:00 am. A drastic change from HOT looking chic’s (KF airhostess) to HOT weather, which I despise. Yes, I was in Delhi the capital of India. Few hours back in Bangalore I was searching for my jacket to keep myself warm from the weather outside. While traveling from airport to Noida where I was to put up for next two days I realized the rise in the mercury. Hot to hotter, hotter to hottest by noon hitting it to 46 Deg. August is blowing hot... like nothing seen for years in Bangalore. As I was admiring the expressways and the metro I realized that I was at my destination and had already traveled 41 kms in just a matter of 35 mins. That is definitely one thing that Delhi scores hands down over Bangalore even though it would lose in terms of weather. New Delhi—the power hub of one of the world’s most vibrant democracies, home to fabled gali-kooche and multi-lane flyways and yes, one of India’s greenest cities! For most, Delhi is the face of India—an icon in its own right. As we get set to celebrate the 62nd year of India’s Independence I landed in the city for some leadership training from my company (not from our so called political leaders :P). I got in touch with some of my old buddies who were settled in Noida and Gurgaon (and yes this is definitely NOT Delhi – It is as Delhi as Mysore or Mangalore to Bangalore). Over the next one week I did the training in Gurgaon and tried all methods to beat the heat. Gurgaon, with monster malls and futuristic high rises, is frequently called the poor man's Singapore. Gurgaon lives up to its name of being Concrete Jungle with its high raised buildings and multilane expressways. Finally after a week full of gyan on leadership in HOT weather and HOTTER chic’s around I was done with my training and it was time to leave and get back to namma bengaluru. Even though my stay was limited and packed with schedules I loved the place, people and the get together with old buddies. Finally, I am back in namma ooru and woke up to pleasant morning of Independence Day. Somehow I missed my home that day. My parents are old-fashioned patriots who ensure that special delicacies are prepared on the eve of 15th of August, since they felt it was exceedingly important to celebrate 'Freedom'. Freedom, not just from foreign rule.... but as a basic human right. They also believed it was important for them as parents to convey to us that this precious freedom was worth guarding with our own lives. There were no delicacies at home this year. It is yet another dull, uninspiring and listless day with only one hope that it was still beginning of Saturday and Monday was still far away.

The Great Indian "DAL" Scam

Inflation has surged and threatening the ‘feel good’ factor that the Manmohan Singh government promised before the elections. You might be wondering that how come I’m hoping that Indian government would fulfill promises. I know promises are meant to be broken but still the hope is that the government is going to take some steps to help the economy grow in this recession period. Just trying to be lil optimistic. Now, just when the buildup for the new government is beginning, the inflation nightmare is back in flying colors, with the potential to undermine Congress’s agenda. While the poor — an influential category that Congress successfully wooed during the elections with its “aam aadmi plank”, are the worst sufferers. I remember reading as a child that once upon a time India was known as "sone ki chidiya (golden bird)". But now in 21st century it re-christened itself to land of scams. We all know about the famous Bofors scam, Telgi, Fodder (Chara), Shares and the recent Stayam Corporate scam. But I guess what tops all is “The Great Indian Dal Scam” which got uncovered as a result of the skyrocketed prices of pulses in Indian market. Government has imported a variety of pulses from the world market and stored it in various ports to be distributed in the local market in controlled prices to curb the inflation. The dal that was said to be imported for the aam aadmi didn’t reach the aam aadmi rather it went down the drains due to sheer negligence of the spineless government whose motive was to make money out of the basic human needs. The agricultural minister Sharad Pawar doesn’t have any answer to the carelessness and no one is there to take the onus for the 15-lakh tonnes of rotten pulses across various ports of India which amounts to 300 crores from our pockets paid as taxes. These pulses were not released to the local markets, as the ministers were more involved in plotting how to make money spent recently for their victory in the recent elections. Prices of pulses have risen to such an extent that some harried families even find meat a cheaper option. Not just exotic broccoli and mushrooms but the relatively affordable tomatoes, onions and potatoes - basic ingredients in most Indian meals - are moving away from the common man's reach as prices continue to soar because of our so called incompetent government. The daily used tur dal, which used to be 36-38 per KG, is now available at 5-star rates of 96-98 per KG. NDTV’s special report about the day-to-day life, infact hand-to-mouth living of the common man (like me) directly takes us to the dismay of downhearted common man who is directly and mostly affected with the soaring prices of his basic needs - Dal, rice and vegetables. Many households have entered the uncomfortable zone with each tick marked before rising prices - balancing the checkbooks. These are all essential items in an Indian household and the government is not doing anything to help us out of this crisis. Expenditure is unmanageable in the festive season and now ordinary living is also a hassle. To manage the home budget for a common man is getting more difficult with each passing day. Rising prices have hurt the living style of those who live on modest incomes. In the last one year India has noticed an abrupt rise of 10 to 60 per cent in pulse rates, making it quite testing for the poor to find the money for even basic nutrients and now our lower strata even will have to survive without protein-rich pulses. Even as city dwellers are worried about the price rise, suppliers and traders on the other hand are hoarding essential commodities to create artificial crisis. It is time for the Government authorities to instigate action against such suppliers and bring in relief from the increase in prices. However, this is the time when the opposition party would launch a nationwide stir against the Congress government for its failure to arrest rising prices instead of joining hands in coming up with some solution. These are one of those testing times when the government has to come up with something brilliant to prove their competency. Till then I am keeping my fingers crossed.

Fir bhi dil hai hindustani !!

Namma ooru- Bangalooru

Bangalore - a city known for its lush green gardens, scenic beauty and great weather all year round. Bangaloreans claim that the city is an Indian metropolis with a modern outlook. It is supposed to be the heart of the booming Indian software and electronics industry.

Sure, the illusion lasts for a week or a month. But let me tell you what Bangalore is really like when the smokescreen clears. For the metropolitan city that it is embracing people from all over the country, how about having a street sign in English or Hindi, for God’s sake! All road signs are in the local language, Kannada. Even the public transportation has signs in Kannada alone. I thought Chennai was bad when they insisted on putting up anti-Hindi protests everywhere. But at least they compensate for it by writing the bus destinations in English as well as Tamil!

Now to the root cause of the problem, the people of Bangalore. The state has been aptly named "Kar-natak" (make a scene). Sometime back they have imposed a seven-week moratorium on all non-Kannada movies here, meaning that movies in all other languages will be released only seven weeks after they have released in the rest of the country. This is supposed to uplift the sagging Kannada film industry, since nobody, not even a kannadiga, watches their lousy movies otherwise. Has anybody heard of anything more preposterous than this? Maybe Thackeray’s plan of driving all non-Maharashtrians out of Mumbai came close.

Even with the "modern and broad" outlook the Bangaloreans have, companies still prefer to recruit only from local colleges, preferably kannada speaking populace. During official meetings, lunch or any other team gatherings, they speak almost exclusively in Kannada, so a non-speaker (like me) is absolutely flabbergasted in all weekly meetings and conferences. And to think that the French are snobbish!! Public transport: Autos: another big pain the ass. The drivers are rude and are very choosy as in which route passenger they would take. Aren’t they supposed to take any fare as per law? Thanks to our disfunctional police staff who are more engrossed in making money out of the thelawalas and roadside chaiwalas. The auto drivers have very outrageously lamest possible excuses for not taking a particular fare. Some samples when asked for a ride- Its too far (why the hell would I take a ride if its close by?). Its too close (really? I think I should walk instead), There is lot of traffic (and you do not want to contribute to the traffic?) I wont get a return customer from there (how about I drop you back here?) and and the list goes on. Another problem, if you don’t have change you are screwed. Fisrtly the meter runs faster than the olympic winner and on top of that you end up paying extra bucks as they would never have change. I mean common guyz you are working stop begging for heavens sake. $#@&^%. Nightlife: A typical Cosmopolitan city like bangalore which has a sizeable section of youth, business travelers, tourists and even local citizens, is devoid of night life. Bangaloreans, who work late into the evening and need some time for relaxation and recreation cannot do anything after 11:30 pm. Its sad that the Sillicon Valley of India is forcefully slipped into sleep before cindrella hours while the other countrymen in different cities have good time till late hours. The reason offered out for such rule is to control crime rate and safeguard the citizens from the mishaps at belated hours. Many big cities of the world allow an active nightlife but are by no means unsafe. Moreover, this shows sheer incompetancy of the local “4 kilo tond waale so called policemen”.

Still, one learns to get around. For all the deriding remarks I made about the people here, I must say this: there are some who are very helpful in every way possible. Some of them even go out of their normal routine to help a stranger out, which is unheard of elsewhere in the country. They are also very conscious of their image and communicate very well beyond the language barriers that exist. Even though Bangalore is a sleepy little town, people sure are active during the hours that the city is awake. Not too many lazing around, it’s a nice thing to see. Take in the good and filter out the bad, that’s what I am here to do. While in Bangalore… "Namma ooru, Bangalooru!"

Reminiscence of my past Quarter Century

Today on 22nd Jun 2009, which happens to be my birthday, I sit here in my cubicle scribbling down this piece of post. Over the past couple of years birthdays have not been a special occasion, as it used to be when I was a toddler. Now a days, its just another day, jab main mann maarkar office jaata hun and work till I drop. Today in the midst of colleagues, sitting in the boardroom, unable to receive calls from friends and relatives, I wonder how this particular day has changed over the past quarter century of my existence. I remember as a child my birthday used to be a special occasion with new clothes and shoes to wear, mom’s special delicacies to feed on and some extra generous savings from granny to make the piggy bank little heavier. Colored balloons decorating the hall, Mickey Mouse shaped cake, colorful candles and entire gang of bachcha party singing the happy birthday jingle. When I close my eyes, I recall my happiest days as a child. Those were the days of innocence, fun and frolic. 28 years ago on the same day, a baby boy was escorted into the world, crying loud enough for a deaf man to get a pair of earmuffs lest his eardrums go tattered. After all it’s the momma's job to tell me that unless I kept quiet gabbar aa jaayega. Months rolled up and I grew up into a pretty normal kid who thought thumb is gods candy so I hogged on it. Funny days were those. I used to toddle about the dining room and reach the kitchen to see momma cook, waiting anxiously for her to look and throw an endearing smile at me, and when she did, I would chuckle and clap my hands singing in my own baby language loudly, and eventually land on my bums. I kept repeating this act while she was in the kitchen. And at the end of it, when she was done with her chores, she would hug me and kisses followed and I sang even louder. Ahh the joys of the first-born kids. As the days passed by the young toddler turned into a very naughty lad who used to take pleasure in destructing any random object available within 2 feet height. As mom recalls I used to break the glass jars and bottles because I loved the sound of breaking glass. What a unique music lover was I. Once I even dropped my younger brother while mom was busy with her usual household chores. I picked him and bang… my brother was on the floor crying with a bump on his head while I was all clapping with chuckle. And what followed were spankings from momma. In our building a motley crew of about 10 of us ran around with gay abandon, unbothered by adult concerns. If we fell, which we did, bandages and our mothers’ love awaited our scraped knees back home. We were the noisiest lot; we would fight, cry, cold shoulder each other, but would eventually patch up. Unlike kids now, we didn’t brandish cellphones. But we left voice messages for each other the old-fashioned way. “Will you come out to play?” we’d shriek. It did not matter if one were on the ground floor and the friend, on the third, much to the chagrin of snoozing adults. As the years went by, play was abandoned for studies. The noise of children mellowed and the drone of television took over however naughtiness grew proportionately. I used to gasp seeing Sunny deol planting his "dhaai kilo ka haath" on the "chaar kilo ki tond" of bollywood villains and how He-Man and Spiderman used to send hooligans flying in air with their karate kicks. I remember once I kicked the door after I was back from school...Mom heard the loud bang...Two slaps later I was as calm as gurudutt silently scribbling my homework. PS: My mom’s a pro in slapping though, all thanks to yours truly. I have given her enough chances while growing to practice on me. Eventually years rolled by and the kid grew up to become apna desi no nothing Engineer slogging hard to make a living. Today after 28 years history repeated itself and yes it’s my birthday sans the balloons or cake or the happy birthday jingle. How I wish I could carry myself back to those fun-filled days when having fun was more important than feeding the ego, sunday special delicacies by mom were awaited more than the pizza delivery guy, when dad’s shoulders were the highest place in the world, the annual visits to the circus/zoos were eagerly awaited, when dadi/nani ki kahaniyon ke imaginary jaadugars were more scarier than our managers or deadlines. While I jotted these memories, I clutched my childhood close and left the chaotic present for a while only to realize that we cant get back what we have already passed.

Wanna Salsa ?

Arms were everywhere, shooting up towards the sky, sliding off each other’s arms and backs, and you could only wonder if they had discovered some magical potion that cuts through everything. Sweat dropped off their brows and clung desperately to their clothes but the smiles never waned. Pirouetting on pencil heels and looking ever so electric in their colorful tops, they locked themselves into the arms of the men and flowed like wind. Welcome to the enchanting world of salsa and salseros where the greatest high is dancing, and not alcohol or smoke. For years I was intimidated every time I walked into a club with four left feet. I would freeze at the thought of someone asking me to dance. Sometime back couple of my friends joined salsa classes and in no time they were electrifying the stage with their moves. When I saw them flowing to the tunes I can’t stop myself. What is instantly appealing about Salsa is that being essentially a social dance, it attracts and brings together all kinds of people with a magnetic energy that cuts across age, culture, language and any other human boundaries. I have seen the plainest, shyest, so called insignificant men and women transform into graceful, passionate and poetic movers on the dance floor. Learn the basics, feel the music and let yourself go. Immediately yours truly also enrolled to the next batch and now here I am in F-Bar moving to the beats. The pulse of salsa music has a hypnotic quality; it gets under your skin and makes you move almost involuntarily. What attract the common dancer to salsa are the elegant yet sensual glides and twirls. Two people, who may be perfect strangers, can connect and move to salsa, even if only for five minutes. While merengue and jive are peppier, salsa is more passionate and stylish. I attend classes during the weekends and in the evening, there are performances ranging from the exotic, to the energetic to the sublime. So what if Bangaloreans aren’t ‘technically’ allowed to shake a leg? That doesn’t stop us from getting out there and hitting the dance floor — on a weekday! Three weeks back was the first in series of Tuesday night Salsa’s at F-Bar. We went after work and grooved to the moves till the Cinderella hours. As I’m just a beginner, I managed to stamp on my partners feet couple of times without any guilty feeling :D. As experts say, the key is not to be scared of mistakes, but to live with them, bash on and just keep dancing. That’s the only way to learn. Apart from the fun and learning new art, the newfound friends are an added bonus. But most importantly, I have found yet another way to express myself, and get closer to my soul. The salsa fever is catching up fast and I believe pretty soon everybody would know how to salsa. From classes at various gymkhanas to dedicated nights at Casa Del Sol and F-Bar, lively music, sensual yet not-too-intimidating moves and a very social, interactive couple dance—are the key ingredients for the success of-Salsa. Wanna dance???

Birthday Party

The other day I was invited to my manager’s daughter’s birthday party. As all of my colleagues were attending, so, I also decided to make my esteemed presence. The party hall was decorated with balloons hanging really low. Though in different colors, each had only one particular hue. They were either fully blue or wholly red or completely pink. These were not like the balloons of our childhood. Colored balloons then were always spotted by other tints in ink-drop sizes. In those days, balloons were always taped close to the ceiling, well beyond the reach of our eager, grasping hands. Hopeful, we stood below them waiting for the string to loosen its grip and let them go. Often when the elders were busy clapping for the birthday child, we pulled the nearest chair, climbed furtively and then in small bursts of energy tried to pull the balloons down. On good days, the risk paid off. On bad, of which there were many, the chair creaked loudly, called a grown-up’s attention leading to the inevitable tongue-lash. The color of a twisted, temporarily misshapen ear often matched the blotchy hues on the balloons. It worked both as a remembrance of the deed, and a warning of the punishment to come. As the balloons fell petal-softly, I was the only one watching their descent. The urge surfaced. Get to them before others do. Then hold them close for the rest of the evening lest they escape and float into other outstretched arms. But there was no mindless scramble for the falling balloons. The adults, and now yours truly was one of them, were intent on the food piled on their plate. The kids had other things to beguile them — a clown and a swimming pool. What did — or didn’t — we have that made these things so dear to us? We didn’t have the clowns at our birthday parties. With luck, we would get to see those at the annual visit to the circus. Our party meal was served in paper plates, one helping, no more. A slice of plum cake, five-six wafers, a samosa, an orange-colored drink. Maybe that is why at this party, all who were seven in 1988 and before chose to dwell on the food. I turned and took one last look at the bereft balloons before leaving. I clutched my childhood close and left the balloons fallen behind.

Rain Reigns Again !!

Yay! Looks like monsoon has finally set in Namma Bengaluru. We had the season’s first shower yesterday, just about an hour before I was about to start from office. Going down the memory lane, I fondly recollected those exciting youthful days when I used to be at home. We have extended asbestos shed in our house where we used to park our scooter. The splattering of rain on the corrugated ceiling, chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs had a heavenly rhythm, a sensuous soothing cadence all rolled into one. The icing on the cake was mummy ke haathon bane pakode aur garma garm chai. Mmmm… I can still feel the taste of it. As I got back to reality, I realized that sweet music and tasty snacks were replaced with blaring horns and muddy sweet syrup supposedly tea. Anyhow, the showers got a respite from the heat. I noticed everybody rushed to the windows and corridors to see the rain! Funny, how the spell of rain can change a busy and serious workday into chaos, fun and laughter. Soon, it started pouring cats and dogs. Lightning and thunder added their bit to the season’s first pour. For once, the office didn’t seem so drab. The light above my desk did not look like the one above a criminal being interrogated by a cop in the police station. I didn’t feel like hitting a few selected characters in office or smack on their grinning faces. For once, the egoistic attitude of certain other characters seemed bearable. Deadlines seemed achievable. Colleagues seemed tolerable. Managers felt like buddies. Just when I was about to start I saw that there were no menacing dark clouds however it continued to drizzle. It was just a perfect weather to go on a long drive. To fulfill my heartfelt wish, my company cab screeched next to me. As I left for home, the trees looked greener, the rain having washed off their long-accumulated dust. As vehicles sped past, I could hear the splash of water and see the light reflected from the small puddles. I got down and as I walked, I saw people thronging the "bhutta” (corn cob)’ and chai stalls on the roadside. There were traffic jams near these stalls and on roads, which is not a surprise! Both the customers and the stall owners were having a field day! People here sure know how to enjoy themselves to the fullest. On the way, I noticed a poor family cooking food huddled inside a large drainage pipe, sheltering them from the rain. They were laughing and enjoying. Talk about contentment and making the most of what you have! Somehow, it brought a smile to my face. It was one of those days when I was grateful that I had a warm home and a family to go back to. The bowl of steaming Maggi noodles I had that night seemed heavenly after that!

It's cloudy today. Might rain. Might not. According to the newspaper, monsoons have not officially set in. Full-fledged rains are expected only towards the very last part of the month. A few hoardings and trees fell down and 2 people have been reported dead in yesterday’s rain! Couple of cars met their dreadful fate in the rain yesterday and here I am cozily snuggled in my bed playing inky pinky ponky to decide If I should go to work or not?

Rani (HB and 4B Pencils)

Why do women want to marry?

Last week I saw this wonderful movie: “He is just not into you”. There are 2 characters Neil Jones (Ben Affleck) and Beth Bartlett (Jennifer Aniston) who have been living in together since 7 years. Beth wants to get married while Neil does not believe in the institution called marriage where you have to actually spend huge money just to announce to the world of your love and commitment to each other. His explanation is that two best friends does not need a formal event like marriage to show that they care, love and are committed to each other then why does they need marriage when he is totally committed, responsible and in love with Beth. Doesn’t that make sense? Before you guys pounce on me let me tell you I do believe in the institution called marriage. It is just that after watching the movie a thought struck to me. Why do women want to marry? Imagine this: A young couple walks into a Café on a Saturday evening. As she sits opposite her date, sipping on a crème frappe, she runs her hand through her hair, moony-eyed she is already visualizing her family album. She of course has decided that he is the one — which is why she even bothered to go out with him. She knows that she will make a great wife and mother. She will also never fight with her mother-in-law, sister-in-law and, yes, she would make the best granddaughter-in-law ever. She also knows that with time and her loving attentions, she will make a better person of the guy, who is right now busy checking out the babe seated on the opposite table in minis. Girl: Stop checking out that girl in minis. Boy: Girl??? Who??? Where??? No, I was not looking at anyone… you are mistaken. Girl: hmm… so tell me what was I saying? Boy, who is caught totally off guard, thinks hard but his brain is still stuck at those smooth unending legs on the opposite table. So, to save himself from all the tsunami he is about to face, he handles the situation very cautiously. Boy: I Love You jaan. Girl: Really? cho chweet. Did you talk to your parents about us? This is probably the most common thing that happens in a relationship after a year or so. Ever wonder what drives a smart, young and liberated city girl to enter into a hand-me-down institution like marriage. The pressure to get hitched has always been there. An Indian woman views dating solely as a marriage platform. Even the first world sees an unattached woman as odd. The single urban girl leaves home for college or her workplace with a garland in her head. The modern variation of a swayamvar. Colleges and offices are marriage bureaus. The drive to become financially independent has a lot to do with finding the right guy too. A woman of course has always been categorically told that her in-law’s place is her real home. So while a city girl behaves and looks like her sisters in Manhattan, she spends her 20s and early 30s pining for a knight, if not his rescue act. “You think of getting married at 25. Thirty is like going over the hill, a different decade.” So as she walks about with a composed air in branded trousers, talking business with her junior male colleague or errand boy on her cell phone, she instinctively checks out every decent-looking man for a trophy husband. One who will make a great support system for her and their subsequent brood. Even the most coveted females are not untouched by the prehistoric bug. “We are social animals and have been brought up with the concept of permanent families. For a woman, marriage is all about security. Even women who are doing very well professionally want a man who can ‘support’ them. That they do not need the support is a different story. Even at the end of this post I cant figure out “why do women want to marry?” If you are a women reading this please enlighten me.

Sketching Continues !!

Volvo Ki Sawari

After years of trying to build roads and flyovers, Namma Bengaluru government decided to change track to address the woes of city commutation and invest in new buses: Volvos for the general public. For daily travelers to office in Bengaluru, the Volvo bus is a familiar experience. With the traveling time ranging anywhere between 1 to 2 hrs for a stretch of mere 10 –15 kms the old city buses experience was awful. The city buses used to be crowded, with people hanging from all possible directions like makdee ke jaale in a haunted bhootiya haveli from Ramsay movie. You will be surrounded by all kinds of crowd starting from the bhaajiwalas with their bhaaji ki tokri to software professionals with their 10-kilo lappies. As the crowd increases you will end up smelling the co-passengers sweat covered armpits or the combination of cheap deodorants and some half hearted farts. You might also have to stand face to face with the chaiwalas who would have his mouth filled with gutkha, which you are scared that he might puke on your fav shirt any moment. If you are spared there, you will probably encounter some unwanted nose digged fingers and crotch scratching hands on your favorite Louis Philippe Shirt. With the sinking heart crossing all hurdles, smelling like a fisherman, when you reach your destination you are in no way presentable either to the client or your boss who happens to come to work in his new Camry with un-crumpled shirt smelling of Hugo Boss. *&%%$ Thanks to the government, which heard the software professional’s woes and launched the Volvos for commuting. Off late I’ve started taking the Volvo to work instead of the company vehicle, which shows up before the pados ka murga decides to get out of its cozy bed. The Air-conditioned Volvo is the good option to hop in and catch on an extra 1-hour sleep while the monster does a nagina number on the so-called roads, scaring the hell out of the poor pedestrians. As soon as I hopped into the bus, the TT babu popped up like a matrimonial ad of shaadi.com to make me halka by some rupees, before I could manage to make myself stand in that bheed bhaad. While I stood in a corner groggily, hunting for a prospective commuter who’d get down at the nearest stop, I was poked hard in my ribs by the fellow passenger who got off-balance by the roller coaster ride in the city roads. I thought of yelling “teri **** ki... But considering the language management, I controlled myself. Very soon the bus started getting flooded when, one-bhala manas decided to get down and I grabbed his seat like a hawk. I made myself comfortable in the seat and switched on my new I-pod. By now all my sleep was gone and I was wide-awake and following are the different categories of people I noticed for the rest of my journey. Sleeping Beauties: These are generally those uncles who would probably have Aruna Irani or Himani Shivpuri type wives at home who wouldn’t let them sleep all night. What are you smiling at you dirty mind I meant not letting them sleep by continuous nagging like our bollywood vamps. These bechare sataaye hue mard are so sleepy that stranded traffic, blaring horns or the human chaos in the bus doesn’t bother them. It seems like they have grabbed their seats as the bus rolled out of the manufacturing plant. Some of them would have their mouth wide open enough for a baby hippo to pass through without getting hurt. To add on you will probably see a Ganga flowing out of their khula muh making a small puddle for gully ke bachche to swim. College ka Chokras: This is generally a group of 5-6 boys in their early 20s with faded and /or torn jeans, champu shades and long unruly hairdos- in short Chunkey Pandey Chaap students. Every word they utter would be sandwiched by a swear word beep beep. Once the brats are done with getting their feet placed in the bheed, they are set to explore the bus for those "F-16 to F-22"s. They scan through the entire bus and the data is shared among them to come with some vital information as to where they need to oscillate to and fro for the entire journey. Yeah, I used to be one of them few years back. Padhakus: In contrast to the college brats you can also see some padhakus with 4 inch thick glasses engrossed in rattofying probably the last commas and full stops in the book. These are the kinds who look forward for exams all year and write endlessly from the moment the question paper is distributed and take extra sheets and sometimes-extra pens to puke in everything in their brains about the subject. At the end of the exams they would make the gloomiest face possible coz they would realize that they have not answered question 5 ka part C, which is worth 0.5 marks. $^&%#@ Gadget Gurus: These people board the bus wired either with a cell phone or an I-pod that they got from their recent onsite visit. These people have their ears plugged throughout the time. When the TT asks for the ticket they would shout at their highest pitch so that the passengers in next bus know where they are going to get off. They would hum the song that’s playing in their Indian Idol voice, which would probably fetch them some chawannis outside. The callers are no less. They would smile all for themselves and suddenly shout out loud with words like “Listen to me, No No thatz not what I am saying”. Paunchy Techies: This is the breed of men where I belong (and probably you also). These are the uptight men wearing full formals sucking their paunches in to evade the un-required attention on their potbellies from the giggly HR girls in front. Needless to say these are the fellow techies with assorted Id’s around their neck, brownish newspapers under their armpits, cheap and heavy laptops clinging on to their shoulders. You can see the manager’s fire in their bellies, demons of variable pay haunting them and the release dates approaching faster than the weekends or salaries. With the fast rising pink slips and slow moving traffics you can hear their frustrations loud and clear even in the chaos of the city bus. Furry Females: These are the category of so-called fur ball girls who board the bus with a look of behenji in their attitude. Their untrimmed mustaches and stubble beard reminds you of unshaven look of our Khiladi Kumar. The hair on their hands would be enough to make a fur coat for 2 grizzly bears. I wonder haven’t they heard the term called “waxing”? Their furry hands would even force Anil Kapoor to cover his sleeves in shame. Well it definitely makes me roll-down my sleeves. Observing from one passenger to other, how time flew I didnt realize. Finally my stop came and I got down. I realized that my shirt is not crumpled and the Dunhill is still smelling as fresh as I left few hours back. In short the Volvo is sawari is fulltoo paisa wasool. However, this khushi was ephemeral. Looking at the high-raised tinted glass building where I have to be for the next 8-9 hours or may be more, my heart sank. Being left out with no choice with heavy heart I walked into that building to suffer the pangs of my existence. By the way why dont you take a Volvo ride while I get back with my next post? It fun !! Trust me...

My Recent Sketches !!

Try Again

When you feel tierd and lost,

Not getting the way at any cost.

The path is hard and a bit rough,

And every step so very tough.

The end of it is not in sight,

And you have lost the urge to fight.

Life is worth living and fighting for,

Not to defeat and leaving for.

It easy to give up and accept defeat,

But the brave will willingly repeat.

Will and dedications are steps to the top,

Journey is hard, but you cannot stop.

Don't give up but try again and again,

A different life you may regain.

Sri Ram Sene

In 21st century when we Indians are celebrating our 60th Republic day, we get to hear the horrific incident in Mangalore by the self-appointed cultural cops calling themselves Sri Ram Sene. The chaos unleashed by the so-called samaaj ke rakhwaale has outraged in the coastal city acting as catalyst in some other parts of the nation. The lethargic response of the police in this matter is the best example of our incompetence and rise of Jungle Raj. Sometime back in one of my posts, I mentioned how we Indians take extreme pride in our culture and go beyond our ways to protect it and pass on to the next generations; but I didn’t thought my article will jagaao all the wrong kinds of people. LOL Jokes apart, violent attacks by hoodlums inspired by extreme ideologies — be it regional chauvinism, religious prejudice or a twisted sense of our Indian tradition and ethos — are becoming an alarmingly frequent feature of our times. The incident sometime back in Mangalore, in which women were physically assaulted by a bunch of goons bearing allegiance to the Sri Ram Sene — simply because they chose to visit a pub is further evidence of this phenomenon. Like those associated with other extremist right-wing groups, members of the Sri Ram Sene are self-appointed custodians of ‘Bharatiya Sanskriti’. Is beating up women also part of this culture? Our culture and traditions have never been static. Through the centuries, they have been shaped and reshaped by historic events and interactions with other cultures. Today, there could be more than a billion ways of being Indian in the Indian Silicon Valley. It’s worrying that small groups of people can hold the public to ransom and assault our collective liberties with such perceptible ease. Aren’t we part of a democratic country where we have the freedom to our actions? Today some group thinks pubs are not a part of culture, agreed. What if other group feels that we should stop talking in foreign languages (English included) and stick only to our local languages? What if some other group starts harassing people saying that t-shirts and jeans are not part of our culture and we should only wear dhoti/lungi and kurta? On that note I remember reading in the paper where 2 girls were beaten up for wearing jeans in Bangalore. Where do you draw a line to such ideologies? Such groups act like an anchor stopping the nations progress. The most troubling fact is that our state home minister has not helped in this matter at all. He told that the pub owners must “augment security to prevent this kind of incident in future”. What is the minister suggesting? That we privatize the enforcement of law and order? Isn’t it the government’s job to ensure public security? What are we paying the taxes for? Be it against Raj Thackeray in Mumbai or similar troublemakers elsewhere, administrations move too slowly and feebly, undermining citizens’ faith in their ability to secure law and order. Couple of dozen men involved in the pub attacks have been taken into custody but immediately released without any action. The state government’s condemnations of the incident and stated resolves to suitably punish the guilty have evaporated long back. People say times have changed. What are we referring to when we say that? Is it India winning gold medal at the Olympics? A black becoming President of USA? India bagging an Oscar? Or is it John kissing Abhishek? Is this what we call change? Is it what we are referring to progress? Nothing has changed for the common man. Common man still struggles to meet his basic needs. Its time that we rise to the calls of time and use the grey matter, for country’s progress and self in real terms.

Jay Ho

India has arrived finally with Slumdog sweeping all major awards at Oscars and becoming the Slumgod. Log onto any website, check out any newspaper or tune into any radio channel this is what you would read, see and hear. But I wonder what is that makes us so proud about the 81st Oscars? Yeah I got it... the 8 Oscars right? Well let’s not forget that it’s not an Indian film that got an Oscar. It’s a British-American film about Indian slum with some Indian collaboration. It reminds me that pre-Independence they use to take raw cotton from here and process there which made us proud. If you look carefully this may be an extension of similar kind of imperialism. The hype and ecstasy that I saw on news channels seems absolute crazy for one western recognition. Now that I have pointed out a counter view to the 81st Oscars, that doesn’t make me unpatriotic at all. However, I feel that slumdog was very much similar to any bollywood entertainer and had all the required bollywood masala. I felt it had more bark than bite. I have seen the movie and no doubt it’s a good movie but was it worth an Oscar??? Well I personally don’t think so. I wonder if we would have entered the movie in the foreign film category would it have sweeped the Oscars? But yes inspite of all the not so obvious views I totally agree to the fact that it feels great to know that AR Rehman's soulful music and Gulzar's passionate lyrics have floored everyone at the Oscars. From Brad Pitt to Kate Winslet, Steven Spielberg to Meryl Streep everyone was moving to the beats of “Jay Ho". What continued was goras in traditional dhotis and mems in dazzling pink Indian outfits dancing to the tunes of Rehman. The world is still giving the standing ovation to the men who have got 3 Oscars overnight while the country was waiting for one since the days of Satyajit Ray.

Finally it seems Bollywood magic has charmed the first world. Its time they realize there is no dearth of talent back home. Hopefully this opens the floodgates of offers with more fusion of east and west coming up with FINE cinema for the audience. Jay Ho!!

AAJ TAK...

Hydrabadi Dum Biryaani and home are synonymous, at least for me they are. Finally I am at home, behaving like a refugee from Somalia let loose in Mc Donald’s with free meal coupons. I was starving for ghar ka khana from 7 long months, since my last visit to my home. My taste buds have refused to acknowledge tasting the office canteen food, which I am sure; I’ll be able to scratch off by biryaani accompanied by some chicken curry. Here at home things are not all that rosy and no real "aish" is materializing as my friends back in office would think. I am as free and jobless as the marketing manager of Sourav Ganguly. TV is boring as ever and with the eyes which are used to watching un-censored stuff, detest HBO and Star-Movies where nowadays "Basic Instinct" is as holy as “Jai Santoshi Maa”. When the dialogues cease and a boy and girl come closer, in the very next scene two tota-mainaas are shown pecking each other (?) with there beaks. Pathetic!! The commercial channels like Star Plus, Sony etc air only the K-series saas-bahu sagas where everyone is plotting against each other. I remember some serials as old as my granny (100 and not out) but all the characters are as young as me. I wonder how someone can watch such bullshit, which shows the same old crap for decades with different camera angels. The news channels are no less. I’ve got this confidential news that Amitabh Bachchan ko thand lag gayi. Just have a look at an instance of the prime time news bulletin on Aaj tak.

Sanjay: "Aaiye hum aap ko le chalte hai Amitabh Bachchan ke resort pe jaha humaare samvaad daata deepak chaurasia maujood hai" "haan Deepak kya aap hamey sun sakte hai" (Deepak is on screen and he is as blank as Laloo's 10th board answer sheet) "Deepak aapko humaari awaaz aa rahee hai...Deepak" Deepak: "haan Sanjay boliye" (People behind Deepak desperate to come on TV are waving as if stranded on an island for ten years and trying to signal a far off ship in sight) "Deepak Is wakt wahan Amitabh Bachchan ki tabiyat kaisi hai? kya mahaul hai iss waqt wahaa par?" Deepak: Abhi hum Manali mein Amitabh Bachchan ke resort ke saamne khade hain aur aapko bataa den ki Aaj Tak pehla channel jo ye khabar aap tak la raha hai. Sanjay jaisa ki hum sab ko pataa hai aaj subah hindustan ke Shehenshah Amitabh Bachchan ko Thand lag gayi. Subah se hi yahaa diggaj logon kaa taanta lagaa huaa hai…” Sanjay: Ye batayiye ki Amitabh ko kitni thand lagi hai? Kya wo bahut chheenk rahe hain? Kya unhone sweater bhi pahen rakha hai thand se bachne ke liye? Deepak: Haan Sanjay Amitabhji ne sweater pehen rakha hai… par aashcharya ki baat ye hai ki Jaya bachchan is gambhir sthiti mein unke paas nahi hain. Isse ye pataa chalta hai bachchan pariwar mein kucch uthal puthal ho rahi hai. Ye kayi saare sawal khade karti hai? Then suddenly the camera shifts to Sanjay in the studio when he comes to know of the fact that he is on-air and he has nothing to speak and Deepak on the other side is dictating the list of medicines prescribed by doctors. Sanjay is speechless and his face is like as if he has pissed in his pants. Sanjay: Hum aapko Amitabh ke tabiyat ki har pal khabar dete rahenge… kahin jayiyega mat… milte hain fir, break ke baad!!! Break ke baad… Amitabh Comes out his resort and Deepak rushes to him to get some exclusive footage. There's already a battery of media persons mobbing him wid "Ab aapko kaisa lag raha hai?" type questions.. Deepak: “Amitabh ji. Bataaiye aapko Thand kaise lag gayi? kaisaa mehsus kar rahe hain aap abhi??” Deepak trying to shove the microphone up his nostrils. "Amitabh ji …Amitabh ji bataaiye….” Deepak struggling. Big B looks up to his bodyguard… And immediately the telecast is switched to the studio cameras and Sanjay sitting there says in a hurried tone. “Chaliye ab chalte hai Raakhi Saawant ke paas jo ye maang kar rahee hai ki item numbers ka bhi Oscar nomination honaa chahiye.” In the meantime Deepak while trying to get some exclusive footage got some real exclusive “Foot”age on his ass from Big B’s bodyguards. As if all this is not enough what follows is a SMS poll : Aap sabhi se humara sawal hai Amitabh Bachchan ko thand kyon lagi? 1. Kyonki unhone sweater nahi pahna tha 2. Kyonki unhone DABUR ka chavanpraash nahi khaya tha 3. Unka jacket chhota ho gayaa tha 4. Manali wasiyon ki galti hai kyunki unhone Amitabh ke liye heater ka intezaam nahi kiya. Apna jawab SMS kariye XXX par aur inme se 10 lucky vijetaoon ka meilga Ek Sony Camera. kahin jaayiyega nahi kyonki aage hai:

- Aishwarya ne khaya achar… Kya poora hoga abhishek aur ash ka parivar??? - Kya wajah thi ki na hit ho pai “Sarkar Raj” Aur kitne hits ya flops dega “Bachaan Parivaar”??? Janne ke lie dekhiye AAJ TAK ... And it continued and by the time I complete this post I am sure Deepak comes to office with an ice pack stuck to his ass while I happily munch on some more homemade delicacies.

Mere Desh Mein...

India a country of more than 1 billion people has stood over centuries against all odds and has contributed a lot more than zero to the world. When we talk about India, the first thing that comes to ones mind is its rich culture and values apart from our contribution to the worlds population and corruption. Ever wondered why is it that one takes so much pride in his/her culture and values? What is that makes us go beyond our ways to pass on these values to upcoming generations. We want our children to be as modern, competent and broadminded as any Tom Dick and Harry from any other country but at core we want them to be aware of our culture our roots above all our Identity. Identity as an Indian; Identity as a Singh or maybe a Rao. I’m not really sure why exactly is it important, but it definitely does a huge deal of good to a country of more than one billion people where losing your identity is as easy as losing another cell-phone. I remember when my friends go abroad their parents would be worried. Not only coz they will be alone saat sumandar paar and will not get the ghar ka khana but also what if the firang culture and free lifestyle influences them? What if they get back with a firang bahu/damad? How will they manage and how their lives would go topsy-turvy. Even today in India Love marriages outside ones religion and caste is a taboo and is not accepted whole-heartedly, because of the fear of the next generation losing their identity. Well, it does make sense; doesn’t it? A very close Muslim friend of mine wanted to settle down with a Hindu girl against all odds in filmy ishtyle. I always wondered what would their children be- a Hindu or a Muslim? Will they go to a Temple or a Mosque? When they would meet me, how will they greet -say salaam or namaste? There is always a possibility that in midst of two very different religions, cultures, customs and languages, one religion, one culture, one custom might die away. So, if parents do fear that what’s wrong in that? Before you pounce on me saying I am narrow minded and put me in the league of likes Raj Thackeray or Shiv Sena, let me clarify I am not against love marriages or inter-caste marriages. But again that doesn’t change the fact that if every one goes for inter-caste or inter-religion marriages, we would end up diluting our cultures and customs. There will be no more Hindus, Muslims or Christians. There will be no more Bengalis, Tamilians or Punjabis. Imagine a kid introducing his/her ethnicity as part Punjabi, part Tamilian, part Bengali and may be a part Gujrati or may be with names such as Tulsidas Khan, Mumtaz Iyer; which sounds more like India Pakistan Border. Cosmopolitan Kid in true sense, Isn’t it? It would be a khichdi where everyone would be as confused as Marilyn Monroe would be if asked to dance to the tunes of beedi jalayle. I’ve come across so many people till now and almost 9 out of 10 want to marry a person who they think will be able to pass on the right values to their children. DDLJ, whose core was based on such values, had dragged people to theaters continuously for over 10 years. Sooraj Barjatya was able to make people realize the importance of a joint family with super-hit movies like Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, Vivaah, Hum Saath Saath Hain, which, not only made the audience shed a tear but also swept away with critical acclaim and national awards. Movies like Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, Namsate London has shown how parents were frantic, trying to instill these values in their children. All these movies have been biggest blockbusters, which do tell us that maybe the concept of promoting ones aadarsh and sanskaar is the mantra. TV ads like Asian Paints, and the latest one by ING corporate have managed to strike the right chord simply because it has captured the essence of our country just perfectly. Even the smallest of things like a Bengali chele’s dislike to fish or a Punjabi kudi’s aversion to lassi matter to people here. We attach a lot of emotion to everything we do. We hold our values very close to our hearts and also strive hard to keep them alive and pass them on to our future generations. I guess this is what has held this country of 28 states, 22 official languages, and more than 2000 cultures as one country. Irrespective of diverse cultures, religions, and castes we are one and reinforce the idea of Vasudaiva Kutumbukam. One might wonder if it is really important to know your roots, only to realize later how well it differentiates you from other people. But at the same time, what we can definitely not doubt is the fact that it’s our consciousness of our respective cultures, which gives us this immense sense of belonging to our land and the strength to fight for or right to a safe and peaceful life here. It is this very emotional attachment to all little things we do that tells us- this land is our home and not just another house.