Nidhi Kapoor BSODed

Posted originally on The Nidhi Kapoor Blog. This is a slightly modified version. 

Unlike most writers, I write on a Windows based laptop. And I initially used tools like Omniwriter, Scrivener etc to get things written.

But then, as I went along, despite all the rich features that these writing tools offer, I craved for simplicity and flow. And thus, once I reached beyond 50,000 words, I moved my files back to good old Microsoft Word. All was hunky dory, things were great, till the blue monster showed his face. I am talking about Blue Screen Of Death aka BSOD.

The dreaded BSOD

Just when I was writing the climax scene of the story, the computer crashed. And along with it, it took the entire word document. And no, I could not recover it. The word document got corrupted and I tried retrieving it but despite all efforts and all software, only thing I got was a 200 page word document full of gibberish. It was as if my work of the last five months was reduced to the infinite monkeys punching on the keyboard at random.

I have nothing against getting compared to monkeys but what about all those promises I've made to all the friends? to myself? the promise I made to readers of tnks? What about my dreams of becoming a full-time writer? There were a million questions and I hit the panic button. And hit it again and again, so hard that I almost broke it.

But somehow, while I was shitting bricks, I remembered that I still have the story saved as a Scrivener project. I fired it up and voila, I had a large chunk of story there. I had shifted to Word about two weeks back and hence apart from whatever I did in last two weeks, the entire story was there.

If I could be honest, since I started writing the book, the last two weeks were when I made real progress, real breakthrough in the story. I made it lot more deeper, lot more interesting, lot more complex. I added layers and introduced more characters. I even killed an important character and un-killed someone who I had killed in the second chapter. Sadly, I cant recover any of what I wrote in last few days but the bright side is that I was not back to zero. Just that two weeks of my life went down the drain.

Thankfully, the story, the plot and the twists are still fresh in my head. With little extra effort, I am sure I can recreate all of it. Despite the setbacks, I remain committed to my deadline of finishing the first draft by end of the year. And I promise I will.

I dont know who to blame about the fiasco. The old laptop, or the operating system, or all the applications installed on my computer, or all the multiple windows that I keep open, or myself for being so callous about something as important as #tnks.

So lessons learnt?

• A. Always always always take backup. Three times. And buy insurance. Just that you need to understand the pricing. 
• B. Keep calm and carry on. I shouldn’t have panicked. Things always tend to workout in the end. 

Someone buy me this notepad! 

Thats it!

And while I work towards writing longer and harder to finish the book in time, do help me spread word by sharing / liking the fb page. I am also looking for someone to help me with design around the book. If you know someone who can help me, do let me know.

And finally, please let me know if you would want to read and review the first draft of The Nidhi Kapoor Story. 

I. Yoga.

Image Credits: Anonymous. Found here.

Ladies, gentlemen, friends, fellow countrymen and other minions of the world,

With one simple stroke, a sheer brilliant one at that, I have done the impossible. I have dislodged Nidhi Kapoors, Arvind Kejriwals, Sections 377, Tarun Tejpals and other such news hogs of the world from their usual position on the top of my mind. And replaced all those with one word. Fitness. And replaced all the thoughts with one thought only. I need to get fit. And replaced all my frivolous actions with one. Chase of personal excellence. Ok scratch that personal excellence bit.

In short, I have now joined a fancy Yoga training regime. And I have been doing it for a week. And I am loving it.

The regime includes alternate day visits to a yoga studio about 25 KMs from where I live, at 7 in the morning. At the studio, I have a personal instructor that spends anywhere between 20 minutes and one hour with me and works on my breathing, poses and peace. All of this, in attempt to make me healthy, peaceful, effective and better.

And if I could make an confession, even though its just been a week, it has been amongst the best experiences that I have had in a long long time. Its been so good that I am wondering why din't I do this sooner. Actually, for the sooner bit, I have no one but myself to blame. I thought yoga was yet another Indian thing that the new media and collective conscious of the modern, evolved, educated world has made popular (other things include naturopathy, homeopathy, social media, Arvind Kejriwal etc). But like they say, if something has to happen, it will happen. I was nudged pushed into this amazing world of yoga and I have been enjoying it immensely.

It did not come easy to be honest. My sis had to pester me forever to go join the classes. sgMS had to consistently ignore my existence and my attempts to woo her back. A cute stranger with beautiful hair and smile had to remind me that I am fat and ugly, when I made a pass at her. My folks had to get angry and inform me of my limited and fast-dwindling supply of money. Nidhi Kapoor had to remind me that I have made no progress, no breakthrough in the story, even though I am so close to the deadline. My body had to remind me that I am not young anymore. In short, everything that I care for, except that stranger with long hair, was gaping at me and questioning my choices in life.

I did not see a way out and initially joined these classes to shut all these people up. You know how it is when you think you know better than anyone else and you do something just to stop all the noises in your head?

In terms of doing it, I do it with all seriousness that you expect from a 31 year, balding, single, almost poor man. The one that starts with pumping a mini fortune, buying ALL the equipment that you may potentially need in the next ten years that you'd do it seriously. And the one that ends next day, at all that equipment getting stowed in crevices and shelves in your house that you never knew existed. You know, I have all the paraphernalia. An expensive yoga mat, a set of clothes made by a brand that only makes and sells yoga merchandise, expensive music bought from iTunes that helps me in meditating, an acupressure chappal that is more expensive that a Nike and a routine that has made me start questioning my erstwhile choices in life. 

But now that I am doing it, I dont see myself not doing it ever. Ever. I just need to figure out if yoga can help me fix my bald head!

Warm Regards,
Saurabh "Nouveau Riche" Garg

Oh, one more thing. You may want to give it a shot. Trust me its awesome! And watch out for more posts on yoga in the next few days.

What to expect from #tnks?

Originally posted on the Nidhi Kapoor blog.

Dear Reader of The Nidhi Kapoor Story,

In my opinion, a book is like any other product. Or a service. You pay a certain amount of money to buy / avail it and you put in a certain amount of time using / consuming it. And in return, you expect a certain amount of satisfaction. Money and time are tangible, I can measure them. Satisfaction is not. I cant measure it.

So before you commit either of the two, I thought I would make you aware of a few things about The Nidhi Kapoor Story (#tkns). This could also act as a sort of a disclaimer. Disclaimer in terms of what to expect from the story.

The story is very important to me
#tnks is one of the most important projects of my life. For a lot of reasons. For starters, this is the first time when I've taken a sabbatical and I know what I want to do with. This is the first time I am trying to write a full length fictional book. This is the first time I am going all-in with a project. This is the first time when I am actually trying to work towards a long held dream.

The promise
I made the promise that it would be worth your time to read the story. And I would do everything to fulfill the promise. I hope you would like what you read. If you do, please let me know. Nothing works better than feedback from people who've liked what you've written.

However if you do not like it, its even more important that you write to me and let me know that you did not like it. The best way to reach me is on email. For a faster response, please ping me on twitter.

As good as I am 

#tnks is as good as I am. Not more. Not less. I am putting my best foot forward with it. I am putting in 6 very important months of my life on this project. And this is a very visible project. I do no want to fail at it. Someone once said, "I am scared of failure". So am I. I will do whatever it takes to not fail with this story. I even made a tiny post-it note and stuck on my wall.

But all said and done, the story would be as good as I am. It will be bound by my imagination.

English as a language
I am not a native English speaker and I am not good with complex constructs of the language. Please expect a lot of mistakes in grammar, sentence formation, tenses, verbs etc. I am trying hard to improve on these things but I think I have hit my limit. I may not be able to come upto the standards of literary geniuses and The Grammar Nazis.

So, while reading it, if you find that I have massacred the language, please excuse me.

Original Story
The Nidhi Kapoor Story is an original piece of work. I hate the very concept of plagiarism.

Years back I used to maintain a fan-site for Lucky Ali and one fine morning I see pieces from the text I wrote appear on front page of Delhi Times without any attribution or credit. I couldn't take on the might of TOI and I couldn't do anything about it. For them, it was one of the million pieces of texts that they print on their paper. For me, it was my life. I put everything I had into that website. And I felt cheated. I felt dejected. I felt as if I have been robbed of everything I had. Its an extreme reaction and that blog meant that much to me. It taught me how it feels to be on the receiving end.

Thanks to that incident, I have never even thought of copying from someone else. And I am proud to say that the Nidhi Kapoor Story is my original work. The story, characters, plots, locations, everything else is inspired from real life people and real life incidents. However, if it does looks similar to something else, I assure you that it is purely coincidental. Please do let me know if you find similarities.

I guess that's about it for the time being. Hope these things help you make an informed decision about #tnks. In case you choose to read it, I would love to know what you thought about the story. And if you dont, I would love to know why you dint. Please do write in.

And, like always, thank you for reading this.

Regards,
Saurabh Garg

P.S.: This may not be important for anyone else, but for me, its very very important. Because I would be custodian for your investment. Its my moral responsibility to ensure that your time and money is spent well.

Love Actually. Movie Review.

For a 30+ year old man, I realized that I am very very melodramatic. And I am the king of mush, if I may. I mean I have always known that I like romantic comedies (Notting Hill, Maine Pyar Kiya, Serendipity, DDLJ and others) but I did not know that I would be such a sucker for well told romantic stories. Before I go ahead with writing a review / post, a note to self: must try and write a romantic story. 

So I was on this long flight over the Atlantic and I had nothing to do. I was forced to turn on the 6" or so wide screen and this film, Love Actually, caught my fancy. My film policy is that I want to watch the first ten minutes of a movie and then see if I want to see the entire thing.

Love Actually is like an anthology of love stories of a few different couples characters that are loosely related to each other. Remember NY, I Love You? Life in a Metro? Its like multiple stories in one story. I am very very sure that I want to write one of these cities of love things. May be Delhi, may be Mumbai. In 2014, I promise I would write.

Anyway, coming back to the movie, the ten minute test that I have for films, Love Actually passed it with flying colours. In fact the first few minutes-when the aging rockstar sings the modified version of an old British classic, Love Is All Around-set the tone of the movie for me. The way that actor goes about performing for that song on screen, I could give an arm and a leg to see him doing that for real. He's singing it with so much passion, so much energy, a child-like enthusiasm and that thing, that in Delhi we call, feel. Its contagious. Its addictive. Its viral. I want to see it over and over again and keep watching it on loop. Its done so so well. Watch it here.



And after that sequence, the movie gets into other various characters and their stories. And despite numerous characters and their complex professions and obsessions, I was hooked. So hooked that a part of me did not want the stories to end. And a part of me wanted the characters to find their true love and see them living happily ever after. Any story that can tear your thoughts into two polar opinions has to be a great story.

Each character's story has something endearing about it. Each story is believable, each is very much possible, if you ask me. Each story could happen to you. Or people around you. For example, the love story of a guy madly in love with a woman that his friend is getting married to. Its like a typical one sided love that most Indian men (at least me) have fallen into. The guy doesnt have the balls to admit his love for the woman, for whatever reasons. But then he finally comes out of the closet and admits his love for the woman. It has to be amongst the most beautifully penned and shot proposal scenes that I've ever seen. Without a doubt.



Then there are other stories, of a writer who finds love in a house maid who cant speak English (the third best story in my opinion), a school kid who is infatuated with a classmate, even the British PM who falls for a staffer at his residence, an office romance between an old boss and a young secretary. Every story has a nice ring to it. Each story is well thought, well crafted, well written. Each story is better than most full length features that we create in the name of cinema in India.

Its a beautifully written movie. For the love of reading, I would love to read it as a book, more than a movie.

I would love to talk about production value, direction, music etc but then its one of those movies that indulge you so much that you seem to ignore everything. At least I did. I wouldnt want to talk about those things and spoil the gooey warm melted chocolate feeling that even talking about the movie induces in me. Gooey warm melted chocolate - wtf am I high on? 

So, yeah, its one of those movies that you just can not miss. If you haven't seen it yet, please do YOURself a favour and go see it. Its totally worth your time.

And anyway, Christmas is just around the corner. You ought to take out time and watch it, even if you dont like movies. If you do, trust me love will take an entirely new meaning. And to end the review, like The Troggs' say, "I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes // Love is all around me, and the feeling grows", ladies and gentlemen, let go and let the feelings grow.

Oh, one more thing. Thank you Reg Presley. Thank you Richard Curtis.

P.S. Starting 1 Dec, I would attempt to make another streak of one post a day. And 1000 words a day. December is a tough month, I need to finish tnks and another compilation of short stories that I am working on. But I shall try and write everyday. If you dont see a post a day in December, please point out.

P.P.S.: I had decided that I would not talk about sgMS. But the movie, on a long trans-Atlantic flight, made me miss her like crazy. So crazy that if I had an option, I would have jumped off the plane, waded through the waters, walked over mountains, braved seasons to knock on her door and and ask her out fr a dinner. 

I have nothing to add

Hotlinked from Flickr

Charlie Munger made this term famous. The "I have nothing to add" one.

And as I embark on the journey of the lifetime, something that I can do just once in this lifetime, something that I have been looking forward to since I was a kid, something that has taken so much planning and has been marred by so many obstacles, something that is scary and exciting at the same time, I have nothing to add.

Its so funny, its not funny. Really. I have been writing about all sorts of stupid things all my life and here when I am just about to leave, I have nothing to add.

When I am back, may be I have something to talk about. I may take notes. I may not. I dont know. But right now, I am blank. Blank as a blank canvas that is starting point of all the great masterpieces. Call it recency or whatever, I can not stop thinking about what Red said when he was finally allowed to leave from Shawshank.

"I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain...”

However there is nothing similar between Red and I. The journey Red is talking about and the one I am about to embark upon, they have nothing in common. And yet I can think of this one quote only. Funny how us humans are.

So, if you are reading this, do wish me luck. I may just come of age by the time I am back. I may write my own Bildungsroman once I am back.

Till then, so long!

The curious case of missing comments / viewers

For someone who's been writing for almost ten years now, I have a surprisingly low count of regular readers (the exact number is here). And subsequently, lower count of comments on the blog.

I mean its not really surprising, considering that I am not really popular (even in my friends' circle). And if I was interesting or funny or intelligent or a loud mouth or opinionated or smart or an eloquent speaker or a photographer or a social media expert or well endowed or well versed with history or connected or rich or something similar, people might have read my blog. But I am not any of these. In fact I am like Hugh Grant in Notting Hill and "...even my mum has a tough time remembering my name...".

Thing is, all this while, I did not matter if someone read, commented on the blog. After all this blog is more like a conversation with myself, on things that I find interesting (or things that catch my fancy). But now that I am trying to get my first novel out, I need to solve this curious case of missing comments. Simply because I need people to read what I write and give me feedback on how/what I write.

So here is a quick list of reasons why people might not be reading this blog regularly...

1. I am Joe Nobody and since this blog talks about my life, my boring life, no one is interested in it. 
2. I am an average writer. Or may be I am a bad writer. Or may be I dont even qualify to be called a writer. And thus reading this blog is not the best use of their time. 
3. There is no "theme" to this blog. I write about a wide range of things (poker, writing, travel, getting old etc) and most things I write are my conversations with myself and hence people dont want to read an ill-informed guy talk about a million things, to himself!
4. What I write do not make sense. Worse, whatever I write does not provoke any thoughts in those who read. Its like eating bland food. You stuff yourself with a lot but you do not enjoy the process of eating. You know that you have had a lot, but you dint enjoy it. That.
5. May be, I do not know my target audience and thus my product has no real market per se. A typical marketing problem. And just to put things in context, I am a post-graduate in marketing.
6. I dont market my blog. 
7. People do not have time to read blogs. They are happy with 140 characters. And blogs by celebrities. And other such people.

There may be other reasons why people do not read my blog but at this point in time, I can only think of these 7. 

I mean, to be honest there is nothing on this blog that someone would want to read on a regular basis. If I wasnt myself, I would not read it! Most people (out of 100 odd that come everyday on this blog) land here by either searching for some lyrics or hunting for startup reviews or using complex queries that somehow point to my blog. Or something frivolous like that. Chasing multidisciplinary expertise has its own disadvantages I guess.

Of course thanks to this blog, I have had the opportunity to meet quite a few people that I wouldn't have met otherwise. But like all mortals, I want tangible gratification and all that. And for (an aspiring) writer there is no better gratification that readers and comments from those readers.

May be over the next few weeks, I would try and get people to start reading what I write. Not because I am hungry for gratification. I mean that is a very important reason but also because every reader that reads and shares his/her feedback helps me improve and makes me aware of my mistakes and makes me a better writer. Remember that thing I wrote about Anton Ego?

And starting with this one, any advice anyone? Why do you think I dont get traffic on my blog? Why do you think I dont get comments?

P.S.: If you want to point about grammar and long sentances, I am working on that. I still think in Hindi and translate in English before I write :(

We risk very little...

Anton Ego, the critic from Ratatouille!

In the words of Anton Ego, of the Ratatouille fame...

In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new, an extra-ordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: 'Anyone can cook.' But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.

Do watch it on youtube here. This is writing at its finest. This is voice-over artistry at its best. This is story telling at its peak. This, this has to be one of the most powerful scenes I have ever seen in any movie.

So, the why do I want to talk about it?

Couple of reasons.

A, I loved the writing. So much so that I wish that I had written it. I am selfish like that. I hope that Nidhi's story turns out half as good.

B, I am at a point in The Nidhi Kapoor Story where I am questioning the damn reason why I even picked up the project in the first place. I dont know why would someone want to read a cliched story of an actress and a police inspector. In fact, I am sure if someone gave me the book, I wouldn't read it myself. I am actually worried that its going to be so bad that I would become the laughing stock of the entire town. And I am going to be scarred for the rest of my life (or whatever is left of it). Its going to be so bad that I may not want to write my personal blog either after all the Antons blast me for my badly written first book.

But at the same time, the little speech by Anton gives me a lot of heart as well. Like he says, all critics, they "risk very little". And "the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than [their] criticism". I am filled with hope that my little Nidhi Kapoor story has some meaning in the large scheme of things. Even if its helping me put a tick mark on my bucket list.

And not to discredit these critics, I think they have an important role to play in the entire process. An honest critic and critique could give that nudge that an artist requires to bridge the gap between being good and great. Anton was being harsh because, like he said, "If I don't love it, I don't swallow". Loosely interpreted, it means that if he does not like what he eats, hes overtly harsh at it. And this makes chefs try harder to please him. Similarly a good book critic can actually help bring out the best in a writer. I think in all these years since I have been writing, I have not had a critic to help me, to nudge me, to prod me.

In fact with Nidhi Kapoor, I am looking forward to getting other people to review my work. Thankfully most of these first critics would be my friends and hence I assume that I'd have a pretty long leash with mistakes. Lets see if I can get an Anton Ego to help me make the story any better.

And btw, here's a deal. If you think you want to play Anton, please do let me know.

P.S.: I cant seem to pronounce the name of the rat movie, even after trying so many times. And no, not wrong pronunciation, my tongue falters and I pronounce it as "rat-tat-tool-lee".

Dear Shikhar Dhawan

Dear Shikhar Dhawan,

To start with, I love your batting. Really do. And I love your body language, your raw masculine appeal, and despite being a heterosexual male, your mustache. So much so that I wanted to grow mine to ape your style. Never before a physical trait of an individual has impressed me so much that I was willing to ape it. Your's I was. But thanks to paucity of time, I could not.

I am grateful I could not.

You know why I am grateful? Because I am ashamed of you because of what you did on the field today and I dont want anything to do with you. Afterall they say a man is known by the company he keeps (or people he chooses to emulate).

Shikhar, I am also ashamed to have you as a part of the team that represents India, my country. A country where guests are greater than the God himself. A country where guests are welcomed with open arms and open hearts. What you did today was not something that a true Indian would do. If I could, I would throw you out of the country. And never let you back.

Shikhar, it was totally uncalled for. I understand that you are young and restless and emotions run wild while you are on the field. I know all the media frenzy and attention from young damsels can ruffle you. For a minute I am ready to even consider that they are masters of sledging and they could have instigated you in the first place. But Shikhar, we do not stoop down to their level. No sir, we do not. I guess while you were growing up, you did were not taught moral science. Which school did you go to again? I bet you skipped all the civics and moral science classes.

Someone may dismiss your actions as an immature act of a child while at play. But Shikhar you can no longer afford to be a child. You have a great responsibility on your shoulders. You represent India at the highest level of a game that everyone follows. Everytime you twirl that mustache of yours, millions of younger Indians take note. And your every action is like a fodder to young and impressionable brains of the next generation. I hate to see young Indians becoming ruder and irreverent while growing up. Shikhar, for a minute imagine your younger brother doing that you while you are playing a friendly match in your galli.

Anyway, despite claiming to be a writer, I am a man of few words. And most of my words are rants rather than fact based editorials. So anything I add henceforth in this letter would only be gibberish. Just that I want you to know that while the match was on, I frantically prayed that we, India, lost the match. And I sincerely hoped that the blame fell on your head. So that someone could put some sense into you. Someone has to. It sucks that people like you are free to roam around like loose canons.

And as a planner, someone who watches how the world is moving, I am really worried about the young India that we are creating. Being aggressive, brash is great. But being rude for no reason or without provocation is not. Even if we are instigated, there are other ways to settle the disputes. You know, we definitely need to aim for the stars but we must not forget our roots.

Shikhar, finally, thanks to you, the wonderful sport of cricket has lost yet another fan.

Regards,
An erstwhile cricket fan

P.S.: Dear Shane Watson, I apologize on Shikhar's behalf.

How stupid I am

Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman, in this pep talk for the NaNoWriMo says,

The last novel I wrote (it was ANANSI BOYS, in case you were wondering) when I got three-quarters of the way through I called my agent. I told her how stupid I felt writing something no-one would ever want to read, how thin the characters were, how pointless the plot. I strongly suggested that I was ready to abandon this book and write something else instead, or perhaps I could abandon the book and take up a new life as a landscape gardener, bank-robber, short-order cook or marine biologist. And instead of sympathising or agreeing with me, or blasting me forward with a wave of enthusiasm—or even arguing with me—she simply said, suspiciously cheerfully, “Oh, you’re at that part of the book, are you?”

Yes. I am at that part of the book. And that's how I feel about The Nidhi Kapoor Story. 

Rockford by Nagesh Kukunoor

From left, Johnny, Selva, Rajesh, Malti, Lily 

As a guy who never went to a boarding school but always wanted to, Rockford (IMDB, wiki) has been and will remain my window in the mystic world of bunk beds and brotherhood, camaraderie, life long friendships, drooling tongues over a dogeared copy of an old pornographic magazine, slavery to rigorous routines, lusting over female teachers and all those things that the boys in boarding schools do that I will never get to know. The movie has often made me want to roll back time and pester my folks to send me to a boarding school.

Coming to the movie, the plot is very simple. So simple that you wonder if they could make a movie on it.

Rajesh Naidu joins Rockford, an all-boys boarding school and like all newcomers to a boarding school, immediately false prey to abusive bullies (read seniors). Before he could find the superhero to save him from his tormentors, he finds a friend and a sidekick in Selva (I did not remember the name, had to look it up). Now Selva is like any other side kick. Goofy, funny, irreverent and fiercely loyal to our young hero Rajesh. The superhero that would save him is the sports teacher, Johnny (Nagesh Kukunoor, also the director of the movie) who takes an immediate liking to Rajesh and becomes a sort of guardian to him. Then there is this really hot lady teacher, Lily (Nandita Das), that everyone has hots for.

The chief bully, a typical spoilt kid of a rich father, plans an elaborate prank that entangles the grownups like Johnny, the sports teacher and Lily, the English teacher. The grownups get into trouble because of these silly games. And then finally, like in all Hindi movies, the hero, our young hero, Rajesh, does his magic, things fall in place and everyone lives happily ever after.

Pretty simple. Along the way there are quite a few life lessons, cute moments, funny sequences that make the movie memorable. Especially funny are the bits where Selva does his antics, when Lily is introduced for the first time to the open jaws and wide eyes of young men and those sequences where Rajesh tries to do pull ups.

Of course movie also has one of my favorite songs of all time - Yaaron by KK. Its embedded here.



The thing with this song is that I have some of my happiest memories associated with this song. Goes back to the MDI days when I was part of the organizing committee of my college's cultural festival. This song was like an anthem for the team that worked on it. This song bonded us like nothing else. And then the singer, KK, was invited to perform at the same fest, like an icing on the cake.

So back to the movie, the hero is motivated by love, the guardian is righteous, the villain is owned by envy and the heroine, she just happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Actually for aspiring writers like me, we need to be able to think about characters in this manner. What rules the actions of a character. What role does that character play in the story. How does the story move forward. Etc. May be I'd take some inputs for Nidhi's story.

And since I havent seen the movie in a long time, I dont really remember other details (production value, camera, sets etc). But this has to be one of those movies that makes me warm and happy. Everytime I see it. And even everytime I talk about it. I wish they made more movies like this.

I'd say its a 4 on 5.

The movie has to be on my list of movies to see before you die. Others being Shawshank Redemption, Sholay. And if you have unlimited bandwidth, you can watch the damn movie here. But I'd rather you pay for a copy of the disc, if you can find it in market.

P.S.: This has been in my drafts folder for almost two years. Good to have finished writing this.