Phlogging!

This is probably my fourth post that I am typing on a phone. This mode, the phone one, gives me some kind of an exhilaration. I know that phone is not making an iota of a difference. The readership remains dismally low. Am nowhere close to bringing the change I want to bring in this world. Am last, not writing any better. And yet am hooked on!

But then, irrespective of things, something draws me towards this. May be I am trying to talk to someone. May be this blog gives me the feeling of authority. Maybe am trying to compensate for lack of action on FB and twitter. I don't know but I am hooked to blogging all over again.

Its like, am back in the 2004s again! Loving it!

Tags: #phlogging, #blogging, #mobile, #personal

Aug 07: Re-living Mr. India

"Kamra. Kamre kay aage balcony. Balcony kay aage garden. Garden kay beach. Beach kay aage samunder. Samunder main pani". So said the great Anil Kapoor, before his Slumdog, 24 and MI4 days. He was peddling a room to the lead actress of Mr. India and describing in vivid detail, the beauty of the room and the view.

Am at Goa right now, waiting for a meeting to happen. And while the client wakes up from her deep slumber, I am idling away my time at this amazing place.

Goa is a coastal state and is hence dotted with beautiful beaches. Here, beer is cheap, women come by scores, poisons easy to find and time, all the time to while away pursuing intellectual conversations and thoughful ramblings. Goa is a classic example of a place where time moves slow and things happen at a leisurely pace. You could choose to gape at the ocean, drowning in the sound of its music, wondering about that lone boat that you see docked in the horizon. Or you could choose the walk on the beach, feeling the sand, waves kissing your feet and whispering those unexplainable messages, as they come and crash against your feet. From your vantage point, you could also choose to let your gaze follow that beautiful lady in red, walking on the beach and paint a picture of her life in your head. Like this woman am looking at, she must be one of those MBA types, she's moving in a straight line, at the exact place where waves just end. Very calculated, precise, sure. She would be single. I don't see any signs of commitment. And at the pace she's walking, she is not in any sort of hurry to go anywhere. She is content by herself, the way she's hugging herself. Probably the serious kinds. I have been seeing her move around for a while and she is yet to kick some water or bend down to pick those shells. Obviously well to do, as evident from her taste, clothes I mean. Probably here to take refuge from corporate jungle that she lives in. Am wondering if I should go and try my hands at being the kamra salesman and see if I can make an offer she can't refuse. But then, the question remains, is she looking for a kamra, with all those benefits that we spoke of in the beginning?

And yep, in the movie, Mr. Kapoor, aka Mr. India, did manage to sell the room to our heroine, and eventually, lived happily ever after.

Tags: #movies, #anilKapoor, #goa, #travel, #peopleWatching

Aug 06: The Art of Dropping Subtle Hints in an Conversation

So todays post is a bit different. Am typing this on the phone. Tough, considering that I can't format, use html, check spellings (I can but lemme exaggerate), do a word count (all my posts have at least 500 words), type with my fingers (and see my fingers do the jig on keyboard), and worst of all, I would not have the luxury of editing, copy pasting or proof reading this.

But like some things need to be kept sacrosanct, am trying to develop this habbit of penning something each day before I sleep. I have no clue if I would be able to do this in a long run, but I know that I can do it today and here is the post. Am calling it, the mobile revolution (note: changed the title once I started writing). Because, you guessed it, I am using a mobile phone to type this out. And I will write a piece of fiction. Am calling it, The Art of Dropping Subtle Hints in an Conversation.

A: Hi! Ssup? Too late to text? Is it?
B: Nah, not really. Was about to sleep. Have an early flight tomorrow. Wassup with you?
A: nothing much man. Just bored outta my wits.

A: wow! My boredom is infectious. Looks like you've slept. Anyways have a good flight. See you around

A: oh ya, get me some fenny while you are there. Heard its really potent.
B: Haha. I will try.

A: Ok. Lemme be blunt here. How does one make a conversation with you?
B: lol. I don't know. The way you're doing right now?
A: nopes. Its not helping. Ok, here's another Q. What's the weirdest question someone has ever asked you?
B: ummm, tough one.
B: I know. It was "How does one make a conversation with you?" :D
A: Hehe. Nobbad Ms. Smarty pants! And what's the weirdest answer you've ever given?
B: thank you thank you.

A: so?
B: oops. I don't remember sorry. But it was to the effect that, dude, get lost. I am younger than your grand daughter.
A: Aha. Some oldie pervert tried hittin on you? Is it?
B: ya. Sorta. Let's not go there. Anyways. I guess I should sleep. I don't want to miss that flight.
A: Okies. And where's your sense of adventure? Dint expect you to be this boring!
B: ya, Mr. Judge o personalities types.
A: How'd you guess? Its actually a specialty!
B: no kidding. Let's test it. Tell me what am I thinking?
A: Easy! You're thinking when would this guy come around and actually ask me out for dinner.
B: holy cow! So when?
A: There's no time than now!
B: :)
A: Is that a yes?
B: almost.
A: Define almost.
B: let's meet at the airport. Am sure they would have some seats left on that plane. Lemme finish the meeting in a couple of hours and then we will talk about dinners and questions and answers.
Oh yes. See you around. Tc

This is day 06 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.

Promise me, Son

Promise me,

that you would give your best shot. Each time.
that you will not leave a single stone unturned. In any quest you agree to undertake.
that you would be honest. To yourself.

Promise me.

Tags: #miniNonFiction, #motivation, #inspiration, #randomness, #whatever, #mansSearchForMeaning

Aug 05: The God Delusion

We, the people, the children of Gaia, believe that we are strong. We tell ourselves, all the time, that we can achieve anything that we set our eyes on. We are invincible. Its us, ourselves, who hold back any kind of achievement. After all we have conquered the entire planet. We have breached the limits and set foot on moon. That too about half a century back. We have created mammoth structures that can be seen from the outerspace. We can now play God and create life. We are no less than God himself.

I say, BALLS!

We are probably the most fragile of all the nature's creation. Take us to cold places, our heart stops pumping blood. The brain does not get its oxygen and and we get giddy. Take us to hot places, we start secreting vital minerals. Make our heart work overtime and try and pump more blood, to make up for the loss. Keep us off food, water, air, sleep and we get cranky. And then we get angry. And then we lose hope. And then the mind. And then the body. And then the soul.

We are so fragile, and yet, we bicker over small things like religion, caste, money, authority and other hazaar things. We need to rather realize our place in the universe. Accept that we are as insignificant as a grain of sand in the great Sahara. All this while, we liv our lives chasing greatness. And we refuse to notice supreme greatness, surrounding us, all the time. Everything, from that innocent smile on a kids face, to a smirk on the face of a prankster, to that street dog trying to cross the road, to that new leaf that has just sprung up, to all those rivers, clouds, rains, mountains, everything screams of greatness. Greatness of an artist that no one has known and will never probably know. With all the limitations of this human mind and body, how can we even think about competing with the greatest artist and his greatest creation? Who are we to even touch the magical creations that we can never ever even think about creating? Who are we to stake the claim to superiority when we are mere blips?

We should, rather be grateful that so much diversity is at our disposal. To help us get through this passage that we know as life. We should be thanking the mother nature for the sincere and honest creations. We need to try and preserve them. We need to try and give back.

You know, I have no clue if God exists. If he does, he is really unfair. If he doesn't, good for us. The bottom line is that we need to realize that when we are feeling most heady, that is the time when mother nature (you may choose to call her God) would spring a surprise and show us our tiny little place in the scheme of things. And humble us.

Time for a lot of self-reflection.

This is day 05 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
I thought about this first when I was en route to Mumbai. I was travelling with a friend who is very scared of flying and yet has to take more than three flights a week. While talking to him, I realized that we are probably as delicate as glass, or may be dreams, to use a poets metafor. It takes a split second for that blip to disappear.

India of Tomorrow

There was a time when I was an active contributor on this website called Mutiny.in. I was part of tons of bloggers, all spread across geographies and time and each one of us, would religiously take time off to write things for Mutiny. We could write about things that interested us. Business to politics to sports to policy to education to fiction to cartoons to and anything else under the sun. And we wrote things that mattered. There were grand plans for the website. The owner/editor was talking about print publications, subscriptions and what not. But then, I dont know how and why, it slowly faded away. Everything comes to an end, sooner or later. Somehow, the entire bunch disintegrated and we were left with a url that doesn't even work now!


Coming to the agenda, I want to resurrect Mutiny. Or maybe create a clone. Or a better avatar. I dont know what to call it yet. I will have to ask HK and RN. They are two of the most talented people I know. I take their word without any arguments. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

The Big Idea.
The idea this time around will be simple. We (everyone that i reach out to and I) will try to imagine a better India. An India that we would love to live in. A India that we would be proud of. We will create content that citizens of this better India would want to consume. When I say better India, I mean a utopian India where elections agendas would not be religion, hunger or poverty. Where youth would not grow up on Roadies, Big Boss or Kyonki Saas ... .Where media would not be a mere entertainment channel. Where ideas would get merit over eloquence. Where we would live with morals like equality, freedom and respect. Where we would be responsible for what we do and we would own up to our actions. And more importantly thoughts.

The Details.
To start with, we would create a simple, group blog. Multiple authors post their opinions and make themselves heard. Unlike other outlets, we will not run this as business and money would never be a motive. We would have no political inclination. The endeavor would be to present an opinion and encourage debate. And hopefully stir something within the readers.

The End Notes.
I dont really have the gift of the gab and its tough to get the sentiments across but I am sure this can get started. The Internet gives us so many opportunities to socialize and meet other interesting people. Of the 100 million or so Indians on the Internet, cant I get just a handful to help me with the idea?

Aug 04: Welcome to Africa

So far i have written 3-4 posts under Project 0811 and so far, this is proving to be the toughest. I am back to square one. Where I know I have to write a piece and I am clueless what to write on. I am out of stories, anecdotes, ideas, data that I have no clue what to write. Ideally I want to write a short story, in 500 words, but then nothings coming to my head. And starting today, I wanted each blogpost to have a picture/photograph that best sums up the post! But then, dear sire, we need to have a post in the first place!

Let me attempt a short story. Ok heres the deal. I shall find a random link on google and write a piece of fiction inspired by the content on that page. I googled and I found randomwebsite.com. Let me generate a random website link. Drum rolls, confetti blasts, here we go! So it pointed me to AllAfrica.com. And heres the story.

"You dont understand me at all. I cant tolerate you guys for even a minute now. I am going.", said my daughter. She is 13. And I had caught her red handed while she was trying to steal money from my office. Moment she said, you don't understand me, something snapped inside me. I could clearly see what would she do once she leaves home with that money.

She would go buy an ice cream. After all, like father, like daughter. Then she would go for a walk till she reaches the dockyard, which is about 100 meters from our bungalow. No one else but us, call the bungalow, bungalow. This used to be a chawl till about 5 months back before I bought the entire place and created this sprawling landmark.

She will then board the vessel docked farthest from the shore, scared that I might find her and fight with her again. She would get curious with all the instruments, compass boxes, wheels, navigators, maps, logbooks, pens, radio sets, levers, cranks, the tunnels and will get lost in her world where she would play the pirate and fend off the crusaders. She has to be the pirate. The kingpin. Nothing else would do. There is something intriguing about being on the other side of the law. I, I even went to the extent of patching my right eye.

Without her realizing it, the ship would set sail. It would take her to Africa. I could see that cloth banner, that read the most dreaded words I had ever laid my eyes on. Welcome to Africa. She would be surprised at first. Then she would feel lost at a place where everyone is topless, dark, smelly, humid and cold. Then she would be surprised for a bit.

And when the reality would hit her, she would not flinch, leave alone crying. She would be brave. Probably braver than her father. She would take less time, far less to make her fortune in the land of black gold. I dont know what business would she pick but whatever she does, she would survive and reach the top of the game. All the while, slogging, to teach her father a lesson. No other emotion makes a person work harder than hatred.

And sooner than later, one fine day, just like that, she would decide to head back home. And see that banner, the Welcome to Africa banner, for the last time. Ever. And come back, to claim her place. To erect the tallest skyscraper the city had ever seen. At a place where I built a majestic home. Where my parents rented a 6 feet by 8 feet, shared toilets with 30 other "homes".

I could see everything. As clear as you could see things.

History, as they say, repeats itself. I was determined to keep history at bay this time. Just this time. For once. I fought back the tears, ran after my daughter. And dug my head in her neck and allowed that lone tear to roll down my bearded cheek. And I had no clue, who was more surprised. She or I.

This is day 04 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.
Note to self: Need to fix my woulds and wills, coulds and cans, so on and so forth.

Happy Birthday Kishore Da

Did not realize that today was Kishore Kumar's birthday. While reading for this post, I realized how little I know about him. Like, I dint even know his name! Or the fact that he was a Bengali by birth. But then, better late than never. Did read some interesting tidbits about him and absolutely adore the guy.

I dont know how many songs he would have sung during his long career but he left us with so many wonderful hits that its really tough to put in a list. In fact if you asked 100 people to choose their favorite Kishore Da song, I am sure you would get 100 different songs. Thats how Kishore Da is. To each his own. There are so many facets to his life, his personality, his work, his talents that its tough to even summarize his achievements. He is one those, jinka naam hi unka resume hai.

From his work, Pal Pal Dil Kay Pass remains my favorite. Then there is O Saathi Rey. And Mere Saamne Wali Khidki. And Jhumroo. And Musafir hoon yaaron. And Saagar Kinare/ And the list can go on and on. The wikipedia article actually does a good job of summarizing the list. And burrp has a good post as well.

He is one of those people who I really wanted to meet. And like all the other people I want to meet, I would not know what to ask him. And here an idea drops into my head. What if I make a list of people that I want to meet, along with the questions I want to ask them?

May be later. But for the time being, happy birthday Kishore Da. You truly rock!

Aug 02: Dear Humans

Dear Humans,

Before anything else, without any further ado, let me clarify. I did not cross the road. Not this road. Not that road. Not any road for that matter. And I never thought about crossing any roads ever. And I checked, my cousins also, had no fancy thoughts of doing such a ridiculous thing. And nor my forefathers and their forefathers. No one is interested in your roads. No one in my family and extended family wants anything to do with you guys and your roads. You may please keep them to yourself and create your own jokes.

You see, we are peace loving ... things. We just want to be left alone, to do out little jig with the torso, the neck, the beak and the chicken dance. I know you guys must find it amusing, the way we bump our head into ground all the time. But then like us, you guys have tons of rituals that our race hasnt been able to understand. I mean what could be so interesting about a naked, saffron loincloth clad man, dancing in weird postures that lakhs of women try and imitate all his actions? What happens on that night every year when you guys almost burn the entire city down with so much fire and lighting that it actually hurts.

May be it hard to believe for you guys, but we do have sleep cycles. We dont really have those REM cycles but we do have our chicken cycles and we need to spend a large part of our lives sleeping. And when we sleep, we want to sleep in peace. In one piece.

Thats grudge no. 2 btw. The last letter, listed in great detail, the tortures that every single one of us goes through all the time. The impending cage. Ofcourse it is really tough to spot your relatives in that huge a bunch of while haired things, all looking the same. The lucky ones reach the pressure cookers fast and they happily melt away with all the spices and gravy. The unlucky ones, us, the ones looking at all those of us being carried away, that sight is scary.

The next on agenda is all those filthy cartoon films. Do we really look that yellow? that furry? that tiny? that fragile? Do we deserve to be sold at traffic signals? And not just sold, but renegotiated on and bickered about. And its not even a genetic clone. It is made up of plastic! I know you guys are 7 billion and we are mere a few thousands but this is no way to treat us. If Noah had his way, you and us would have been in equal number. And since we dont have to wait for 9 months to produce the next generation, we would have grown faster. Mmmm, that could have been interesting. Imagine the menu reading butter aadmi, aadam musallam, aadmi changezi, aadam shawarma etc.

So, I am short on time. I understand that roads hold a special place in your life, lores and development. They connected you guys and helped moved faster. They allowed movement of people, things, thoughts and stories. Including the one about me crossing the road. I mean, who could even think of it? And why? Can you even imagine a chicken on the road?

Guys, can we please cut it out? Dont you guys think you have stretched this one, a little too much? Isnt the joke now too old, too predictable and too boring?

Sincerely,
The Chicken

This is day 03 in a series of 31 daily blogposts. Other posts are here.

Two down. Two to go.

Time for a small update on the Project 0811. I like the ring of it. Every month, I think I need to think of some interesting things and call it Project . Anyways, we shall cross the line when we reach there.

Coming to the update, its just the third day in the month and I already broke a rule (of the 4 I made for this month). I ate outside today. An iced tea at a CCD and some Chinese food from Yo China.

The second rule, the Rot 13 one, I was supposed to start it on day 1, I havent even started on it.

Not happening Mr. Garg. Time to pull up the socks!