Nehru: The Invention of India A review

Jawaharlal Nehru, in his 17 year long innings as Prime Minister, had influenced India more than anybody else has ever done in her long History. For most of the world, India was Nehru and Vice versa. His actions, his morals, his principles still hang around today. He is said to be responsible for everything that is good, as well as bad in India today. Quite a feat! But one must realise that he was at the helm of a nascent India, and he could have chosen any path he wanted, and India would have followed. That is why M.J. Akbar named his Nehru's biography as 'Nehru, The making of India'. In 2003, one of my favourite author, Shashi Tharoor wrote his version, 'Nehru: The Invention of India' which I just finished reading.
Tharoor confesses in the preface that it 'is not a scholarly work; it is based on no new research into previously undiscovered archives;...It is, instead a reinterpretation-both of an extraordinary life and career and of the inheritance it left behind for every Indian.' Fair Enough. He has an incredible way of putting things across, and It would be interesting to note his take on Nehru. Alas I was far too disappointed.
The book, even though it is an reinterpretation, contains no new insights. We already know Nehru's life was one of comforts, and his schooling in England, first in Harrow and then at Inner temple was not one that was 'average' and 'undistinguished'. Tharoor tries to bring out the father-son relationship, but one feels that he he could have done better. Tharoor is known as a novelist, and one would expect, that he would bring his considerable talents, and write a passionate and evocative narrative, which is wholly missing.
We plod through Nehru's early Public life, till independence, and the book read like a newspaper article. Instead of an emotive narrative, we have a elegantly written piece, that does not show us the real Nehru, only his achievements and movements. Ironically enough, Tharoor's 'Great Indian Novel' gives a better insight in to Nehru, his mind and his emotions then this one does. Another fact that bugged me a lot, was that th is a singular focus on Nehru, with Gandhi & Motilal Nehru, sharing some of the limelight. It seems like there is no one else. This somehow leaves a gaping hole, in our understanding of Nehru. The narrative reminds me of Bollywood Movies, where the hero is all-important, and the secondary characters serving only to be at the receiving end of the hero's actions and words.
The post-independence part of the book is somewhat better. The first Chapter in this section deals with his foreign policy initiatives in the Post war world. This is where Tharoor brings his diplomatic expertise at the table, and wonderfully wields his pen, to provide an insightful analysis of Nehruvian diplomacy. The next chapter deals with Nehru's declining years, and ST manages to paint an heart retching scene of Nehru beyond his prime. It is the last chapter which deals with what ST loves to write about quite passionately. He writes about Secularism, democracy and other legacies of Nehru.

My biggest criticism of this book, would be with its title: 'Nehru: The Invention of India'. It is a rather Pompous title, and Nehru wouldn't have ever thought that he was inventing India. India for him, was always there, with its 5000 year old history and culture. Nor was it just an idea for him. It was there, just waiting to be discovered. No wonder then, that he wrote a book, which briefly described the History of India, called 'The Discovery Of India'. But let us give ST poetic license to name his book what he want.
Where he fails is to do justice to the title. The book hardly touches how India was 'invented'. Yes he does mention the ethics and morals of Nehru, but that does not make India. ST might think that India is just about secularism, democracy, foreign policy and socialism...it is not.
This book would be welcomed by people who know nothing about Nehru, but given a choice, I would recommend M.J.Akbar's biography over this any day.

Dus Kahaniyaan---A review

There was quite some Publicity buzz around this movie, and it seemed quite interesting, so I had to take a look. This is an anthology of 10 short stories, in the visual format; 6 directors: Hansal Mehta, Rohit Roy, Meghna Gulzar, Apoorva Lakhia, Jasmeet Dhodi and Sanjay Gupta, paint an engrossing film of just above 100 minutes. So how is it? Well..let me first tell you about the 10 different stories.

The film starts out with quite an engrossing tale, called Matrimony, featuring Mandira bedi and Arbaaz Khan. Mandira Bedi is more famous for her spaghetti straps then her 'Shanti' and Arbaaz Khan is hardly known for his Acting Skills. Given this background, we hardly expect them to perform so well. The story has an 'O Henry-isque' ending, but the story works, even though it is quite predictable.

Then we have High on the Highway which is the worst of the lot. Not only do we have wooden performances from Jimmy Shergill and Masumeh Makhija,
but the director doesn't help either. There is no buildup, for which the frequent flashbacks are partly responsible. The main blame however lies on the story, which has no essence, or even the ending, where he dies a romeo-like-death, unable to handle a loss.

This is followed by a very wonderful film, Pooranmashi. It's a film staring Amrita Singh and Minsha Lambha. Within a few frames you start believing in both the characters, and mourn the eventual sad ending. However the scene where the daughter faces the villagers could have been better handled, given that there is hardly any interaction between the Mother-daughter, when the whole story revolves around them. There was so much potential for Minsha to act here, but she is not upto the task. Amrita Singh, however comes out with flying colours.

Strangers In The Night, is a film high on Substance as well as Style. It features Mahesh Manjrekar and Neha Dhupia, as a couple, unmasking their deepest secrets to each other. Here you have neha's character telling us about her most Intense moment, and We are first shown the incident from one angle, and then the same incident in it's entirety. These contrasting angles are so antagonistic, that instead of it being a twist in the tale that we would blame ourselves for, we tend to blame the director. This one, out of the 10, had the maximum potential, but until the second angle is better handled, it leaves us unsatisfied.

Zahir, is a film featuring Dia Mirza and Manoj Bajpai. It starts of quite well, with the canvas being painted in just a few scenes. They are beautifully handled, but then the story starts losing it's grip. It starts feeling jerky, and instead of the story moving continuously, we find that there are lots of gaps. The ending is as predictable as hell, and we are left mourning over what could have been.

Lovedale which stars Neha Uberoi and Aftab Shivdasani, is the first film after the intermission. It's a sweet love story, but I felt the writer was trying too hard to be 'arty'. It ends up looking like something a teenager would write and claim that it was going to be the next big thing.

Now comes Sex on the Beach, which is story featuring Dino Morea and some hot chick. This film provides the horror quotient to the anthology, and works beautifully due to the background music and cinematography. There are seriously scary moments during the film, and in a way provides an interesting contrast to the last one. It treats lust and paranormal phenomenon in a way that is antithetical to the last story, which I found to be quite thought provoking.

Now comes the most awaited section, Rice Plate, featuring Shabana Aazmi and Nassurudin Shah. We know that both of them have a lot of talent, but Shabana's portrayal sometimes feels like a Caricature. Nassurudin is perfect as expected with his understated performance, but when you get them together, magic happens. The débutante director is however unable to use them properly and he chose to focus on unimportant parts of the story, while glossing over the crux of the story, which was the realisation that dawns on Shabana's character.

The ninth film is called Gubbare, which has a stellar performance from Nana Patekar. Nana can set the screen on fire, on his day, and this was his day. The story moves towards its inevitable conclusion, but Nana's voice holds you hand along the way, and for once, the predictability is the strong point of the film. It leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, and not in a bad way.

The film ends with Rise and fall, which is the most stylish of the lot. It is low on substance, but you don't mind it. There are two parallel stories, and by mid point you realise that a flashback sequence is going on. The action is wonderfully shot in the rain. It might not be matrix level, but you feel each blow and cut. Sadly there is no novelty factor, because we have seen the same kind of stuff from him earlier.

Now that you know what the short films are all about, comes the important question. Does the Anthology work? The answer is not in black or white, but in the greys. Anthologies work when either you have a common theme, or if the sections provide a different insight to construct the whole. It is on this count that the film falters.

There is no unifying theme or idea. The only thing that could be construed to be the theme, would be the travails of lust... Sensual lust, carnal lust or even lust of power.

There have been attempts along this path in Bollywood by RGV, with his Darna mana hai series, but those failed because the individual stories sucked. Here the short films are of a higher caliber, and the film as a whole provide good entertainment for almost 2 hrs.

You know that you are boring

You should know that you are boring when I feel that talking to A.L.I.C.E. will be more fun.
[I actually was thinking about that when someone was boring me over Gtalk]

Where lies my Kingdom???

I haven't forgotten you, my 3 year old blog. It's just that I have been rather distracted by certain important things. 'What?' you ask. Well I have been grappling with profound question. Question regarding me, my purpose in the world, and where I am headed...those kind of questions. Questions which are very difficult to answer, because you are never sure whether, the answer you have is the right answer, or whether there is in fact a right answer at all.

Ever since August, I have had this internal struggle, these innumerable doubts about my life, and the way it has been shaping up. I am not writing to say that I have found the answers to these questions, but rather to say, that I have found a helpful hint. I am quite sure that I will never be satisfied by any answer I get, so it's foolish to even suggest that. My revelation has been much smaller, but yet, it can be described as a 'paradigm shift' (I don't believe I just used those words).

You may be aware that I have eclectic taste...weird interests you might say, or even varied passions. I love reading, photography, traveling, adventure sports, conversing with interesting people, biking, eating and a hell lot of other things. I am currently at such a stage of my life, where I am officially stepping out from the role of a student, into that of a professional. You can well imagine, where all this mental torture comes from. I want to know clearly who I am. Now some post-modernistic physco-babble would say that I am a mixture of all these things, and much more than the sum of these things. But while that seems reasonable to the brain, the heart is not satisfied.

I had an insight out of this chaotic darkness today. I was generally wondering what I have to show for the month of November, the last 3 weeks. And my answer to that question, showed me the way out. Let me enumerate the things I have done, that I am particularly proud of:

• I wrote an Arcscript to make cartograms from shapefiles, which create maps like these.
• Not satisfied with that, I renewed my Knowledge of XML, explored Kml, and created a tool to enable shapefiles to be displayed on Google Earth.
• Wrote a bash script for automatically installing a programme from its tarball
  
• In another practical, I handled exception in JAVA programming, without using 'exception handling.
• Somewhere else, I presented a programme, which accessed a database using C# and .Net framework.
• I learnt the basic principles behind semivariograms, and understood where they fail.
• I manage to shrink a partition, and repartition another disk, and to make it work, I had to get my hands dirty with GRUB and fstab.
• I rewired a room, so that I could run a modem, on low voltage.
• Figured out a way to calibrate a projector on my own, after getting some hints.
• Beta tested Firefox 3, and submitted a couple of Bug reports.
• Corrected Philipp Lenssen

Do you see the pattern here? All of them are related to Technology in general, and computers in particular.

This is not to say that I did nothing else. I met some great people in Ashagadh and Pune, biked about 700 Km in 4 days, did something for the underpriviledged kids in the Rural camp, Spent some great days with family, shot some amazing photographs, read interesting books like Shame and 'Penguins stopped play', saw entertaining movies like OSO and Jab we Met...

Yet what are the things I am most proud of?
All these techy and geeky things.

I think I can now accept that my life lies in geekdom, and I am sure I will rule there. I will sleep comfortably today.

P.s. I think I can now assure my mother that I am doing productive things, when she complains of me being online the whole day. If she persists, and asks what is productive in all this, I will rehash the Feynaman quote that I always use: "Physics is like sex: sure, it may give some practical results, but that's not why we do it."

A lesson from Life

Dumbledore is Gay!!!

J.K. Rowling is an evil, evil woman. First she write a terrible book called Harry Potter and the deathly Hallows. She makes such good characters like Harry Potter mouth Bollywood dialogs like, "There is nothing between us. She is like my sister!" Then she goes on to describe their sad life after 20 Yrs..like we needed an epiloge.

Now she comes along and takes away the one good character that I loved. Dumbledore was a leader, the last man standing against 'he who shall not be named'. He was an Ideal and Idol for many. Now that he is out of the closet, his fan following will decrease.

No longer can I openly say that I truly loved him, and would lay my life down on his orders. I used to say that he touched me in ways, no one else ever did. That is going to be greeted with giggles now. 'Dumbledore's Army' will soon been an euphemism with a totally different meaning.

Thanks for Nothing J.K. Rowling... I'll go back to reading about the platonic love between Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins in LOTR .

You know you are in a new league

I have to admit, that SIG has blasted me into a different league all together. I am definitely on my way to a professional life, and no matter how much I crib about SIG, I ought to credit SIG with this.
So how do you know, that you are in a different league altogether?

• You spend 4500 on drinks in four hours, and you think it was value for money.


• You meet so many Municipal commissioners in a day, that you hardly think anything of it.


• You have met so many experts and authorities that whenever anyone mentions that so and so person is being approached for a project, you instantly, recall their name and designation, and can go on talking about their expertise


• The Commissioner of Kanpur begs you for a photo you just took, since it happens to have him as a tiny dot in the photo of the bureaucrat who happens to be sitting on One Lakh crores.


• You move around with the Newsmakers, and hear stuff from their mouth, which makes the front page of tomorrow's newspapers. This has happened atleast 6 times in the last 3 weeks.
  

Chatting with Matt Cutts

I'm so sad that I am not a SEO professional (Though I could help you out if u needed some help). I could have used the above screen shot to claim that I regularly chat with Matt Cutts, and collaborate with him on several Projects. Just Imagine the amount of Money I could have made...

Statastical Analysis of my Life

Once again, we have a masterpiece from Xkcd

The 3 Question Test

Your Personality Is

Rational (NT) You are both logical and creative. You are full of ideas. You are so rational that you analyze everything. This drives people a little crazy! Intelligence is important to you. You always like to be around smart people. In fact, you're often a little short with people who don't impress you mentally. You seem distant to some - but it's usually because you're deep in thought. Those who understand you best are fellow Rationals. In love, you tend to approach things with logic. You seek a compatible mate - who is also very intelligent. At work, you tend to gravitate toward idea building careers - like programming, medicine, or academia. With others, you are very honest and direct. People often can't take your criticism well. As far as your looks go, you're coasting on what you were born with. You think fashion is silly. On weekends, you spend most of your time thinking, experimenting with new ideas, or learning new things.

The Three Question Personality Test

My way of Thinking

I had this conversation with a friend, that has set me thinking, and I am still searching for answers.
You see, we have this class, were we learn how to solve question that we would be asked in the aptitude tests, in the various placement interviews. These questions are the usual CAT type Quantitative questions, which are concerned with using some basic concept of Maths, like SI, percentage or GCD/LCM ect. Now you all know that I would not be having any problems with this, and you are right. I treat the whole lecture like a long and drawn out Puzzle session, and try to solve the questions in as many ways as possible. Very often it happens that I solve it much before anyone else, and sometimes even before others have started working on it.
It was regarding this that we were talking. She asked me, "Are you studying for these problems?" I said "no". She then asked me how I could come up with solutions so fast. Before I could answer that, she said, "Everyone requires time to think with logic"

This is when I realised, how differently I think when compared to most people. I tried to answer her question, but I could not articulate myself properly, so she was rather unsatisfied. So let me try to say here what I wanted to say.

I do not think with logic, I just think. Very often, my thinking is not logical; it is a series of random unconnected thoughts. But that is besides the point.
I do not need to think to solve these elementary problems. I can see the solution. It is after I see the solution, that I have to convince myself, which I do by thinking. There could be many reasons why my brain works like this.

Firstly, I have been solving puzzles for a long time. And compared to them, these problems are very simple. Hence I can quite easily abstract the mathematics out of it, and form an equation.
My experience also helps me out here. It tells me the best way of solving the equation, and shows me any short-cut, if any exists.

Further, more, I have always played around with numbers and am not scared of them. This might seem trivial, but I know so many people who do not realise what numbers are, and are more caught up in their properties and characteristics. Let me illustrate with an example. For me, 0.7, 70% and 7/10 are the different aspects of the same thing. I can use them interchangeably, because I am manipulating the Number underlying these representations, not the symbols. I am surprised when people say, "Why are you using 0.7? The question says 70%." This point is an important point, which many people like us, fail to grasp.

Further, more, once we have converted the problem into the language of maths, it can only proceed logically; there is no other way. I realise that I have so internalised this language, that I do not have to work at it, it works through me.

However, is this just a result of familiarity, where I have internalised so many things, that they seem natural (like we have memorised tables, and have no problems believing 3 times 17 is 51). I think not. I think there is something deeper. This is where I am having problems with articulation, and will be quite helpful, if you help me out.

As I see it, my thinking, is different from my expression of thinking. So When I say that I see the solution, I mean that my brain-processes are unconscious. I do not need these symbols, laws, and rules. They are followed implicitly. It is when I convey my thoughts to others, that I need these symbols and rules.
That is where the 'Think logically' comes in. That is where one is in control of thoughts (I'll prefer to say that one can choose which thought to focus on).But for greater part of my conscious time, I do not think consciously.

I'll illustrate this with an example. When I am on the bike, and taking a turn, I have to bend inwards. This I do without thinking. Even the amount of leaning is unconscious. A similar thing happens while walking and jumping. If you just try to think of what you are doing when you do these things, you will be surprised by the number of decisions you are taking, and how fast you take them.

I guess my rational processes also are performed at the same baser level, and by training and experience, I am capable of expressing them in a verbal way.

Metro- A review

A lot has been written about these Multiplex Movies which are targeted towards a certain niche audience in the Metros. Life in a metro is one such film. I have wanted to watch it for a long time, but somehow one or the other reason I haven't been able to do so until today. It features two actresses who I have had a crush on for a long time: Shilpa & Kangana. I was weary of watching the film because I was afraid that it would disappoint me, and would have a non-existent storyline, with symbolic stereotypical characters. However, when I watched it, I was pleasantly surprised.

The story is a multiple-story, running parallel, which connect together in the end (Isn't that also the rage nowadays?). You have the sweet love story of Dharmendra and Nafisa Ali, the loveless marriage of Shilpa and Kay Kay, the unspoken love of Sharman for Kangana, the love affairs of Shilpa with Shiney, and Kay Kay with Kangan in addition to the unexpected love story between Irfan & Konkaana.

In spite of this somewhat complex character list, the Director has managed to make it an integrated story, which runs well. This is the strength of the movie. Before the climax, you don't have a single cliché dialogue or scene.

You have such a strong star cast, that they leave you spellbound in spite of the weak character development. Shiney plays a theatre actor, and he has one particular scene, where is giving a theatrical soliloquy on stage. This scene could have easily gone downhill with hamming, but Shiney manages to use just the right amount of control, that it appears to be something that would have been said on stage, but not hammed out. Kay Kay once again shows his immense talent and skill, as a husband in a love-less marriage. There is this scene where he confesses his affair and begs for forgiveness, only to hear Shilpa confess hers as well. You can feel the confusion in his mind, as he goes from the sorry one, to one wronged. Only He could play the chauvinist husband -who feels that his indiscretion should be forgiven while his wife's peccadillo is unpardonable- with such calm and total believability. His one movement of hands shows his entire state of mind.

Then you have these great actors: Konkaana and Irfan. They might have very few scenes, but when they meet, you can see the magic. Irfan has maybe 5-6 scenes, but he performs so well, that it is his dialogues that you remember. If lesser actors had been used, then the film would have surely failed. Sharman manages to do well with his limited character, and Kangana has once again to play the depressed and weak character that she has played in all her movies so far. The characters are one dimensional, but the actors playing them play them with so much gusto that we get a sniff of what they could be. I don't know why film-maker still think that character development means showing the audience what the character's life long ambition is.

This movie is more rooted in reality then the recent 'Metro' movies like Delhi heights and Ek Chalis ki local. Here Mumbai permeates ever scene, unlike Delhi heights, which could have been based anywhere in spite of the name. Now, I know I am a Mumbai-expert, but I can recognise every public place shown in the movie, be it the footpath outside Britannia, or the platform on Khoparkhairane. It is beautifully shot, with wide camera shorts that span, the entire scene, that make you feel as if you are there. The rain is also beautifully used in a number of scenes.

Along the way, it successfully deals with several competing emotions like, life ambitions, jealousy, Boredom, fear of society, lust, passion and loyalty. Now that is a very wide range, and maybe that is why the tagline of the movie is One city. Countless emotions.

Another thing I liked is the way the songs are pictureised. You don't have the usual song and dance routine by the characters. Now don't get me wrong, I love that a lot. I can't put into words how much I enjoyed the songs from 'Aap ka Surror'. Here whenever there is a song, the singers magically appear in the frame, behind, in the background to the main characters. It is a sort of magical surrealistic feeling to see them appear suddenly, and sing songs while the characters go on with their lives, but somehow I like it a lot.

After seeing this movie, a friend's sister had sent out a questionnaire, from which I'll like to quote:

hey everyone…last night I saw the movie “life in a metro” n was i glad i did..(hey! this is not a film review..it's better than that..) those of u who've seen the movie will agree with me that this film is nothing of the unforgettable or 'the one u take home' sorts..but something during the course of the movie really made me sit up and take notice of it (besides irfaan's performance tht is!) which is, that I could see almost everybody, and i mean everybody, stare at a reflection of themselves on d screen…and on not just one, but many occasions…The reality or rather the “familiarity” of the plot was just too strong to ignore and the next thing I knew, I was crafting this questionnaire to see how many of us could relate to the movie and in what way. The movie is definitely not a straight "A" but it does leave one with a strong aftertaste of the sex-driven, slick n fast-paced life we all call metro..the kind of life that we’re all subjected to..the kind of life that we’re all invariably bound to..and it was the realisation of this immense "common factor".......

Overall, I'll say it is a good film, definitely something I'll watch again.

You know that Reality Shows are fun

Ever since "Survivor" hit the airways, Watching Tv has been fun. Reality Shows have taken over the Channels, with reality shows featuring fat people competing to lose the most weight, to modern versions of Cacofonix, crooning for the hearts of the audience.
I have never liked the India Reality shows, because they seem scripted and phoney. I'll rather prefer shows like "The Beauty and the Geek".

But I read about a Show, that I'll love to watch. Where did I read it? In the crime section of the Asian Age. You can read it at http://www.asianage.com/presentation/leftnavigation/news/top-story/raj-santoshi,-himesh-death-plot-is-foiled.aspx

In Case the link becomes dead, I'll post the main paragraph

An Uttar Pradesh Special Task Force on Wednesday arrested four criminals who had come from Mumbai to purchase weapons that were to be used to kill noted singer-actor Himesh Reshammiya and filmmaker Raj Kumar Santoshi. An earlier plot to kill Reshammiya in front of the cameras during the course of a TV show failed because the hired assassin was eliminated from the show in the early rounds.

I'm sure that if that guy had succeeded, I would have tuned in to watch it on Tv. I am sure that the channel would then have a sms vote, to figure out whether that guy should be hanged or given life imprisonment. Imagine the votes that would pour in for this guy...

You know

You know that you read too much, when this is what you call light reading, and you read it all in a week.

---

You know you are truly blessed, when this is what you see landscape like this for 4 continuous hours










You know that people who told you not to bike on this highway, had no idea, what they were missing.

Chasing the Good Life: On being single

I found this book in the strangest of Circumstances. The previous night, I had this long conversation with a friend of mine, about being single. We discussed the benefits, the gains, as well as the travails of being Single. We talked about going over to the dark side, and whether it was worth it.

I went off to sleep in my parent's bedroom, because my mom was asleep in mine. The room was dark, it was late, and I was tired. So I went of directly to sleep. In the Morning, as I was woken up by the chirping of the birds, my eyes turned to the nightstand, and I saw this book. Chasing the Good Life: On being single, I read. I thought I was still dreaming, so to check, I took the book in my hands. It was real.

I proceeded to the Index. Khushwant Singh, Radhika Jha, Farrukh Dhondy, Dolly Thakore, Suhel Seth, Jerry Pinto; People I have read before and liked. So I was intrigued. I wanted to know what these people had to say about the Singleton’s life.

Don't get me wrong. At my age, I am not thinking of Marriage. But being single is not having that special someone to share things with. For most of my adult life I have been single, mostly out of choice, sometimes out of circumstances, because destiny willed it so. I have been accused of being everything: from a Gay to a misogynist, to even a venustaphobe. I have usually replied that I like the company. Very often the word single has a particular meaning which it is meant to express, without using the appropriate word. For Most people Single=Alone=Lonely. Now I don't think that, that is a valid assumption, but I can't change how other people think. I wanted to know what these people feel about the single life, and I began to read it with much interest.

As one contributor said, 'This... was meant to be a breezy, witty, sassy piece on the joys of the single state'. So is it? It most definitely is, but it's much more than that. It not only is a heartfelt, humorous take on single hood, but it also manages to capture the subtle nuances of their life.

The best thing about this book is the variety it offers. It has 28 contributors, from all ages. These singles, are not only the unmarried single, but the divorced, serially married, widow(er)ed, as well as one, who claims to be a Married Single.

It starts off with an introductory essay by Bhaichand Patel, who regales us with his reasons of staying single, and even mentions in passing, how he almost got married to Rekha. Khuswant Singh mentions how he enjoys the pleasures of farting, while Radhika Jha notes the problems faced by a single person in finding a place to stay.

As Kanika Gahlaut says, 'The trouble with Single in the City chick-lit outpouring is that they are as predictable as a J.J. Valaya fashion show. You know what to expect. Either they are well-written Whines or they put forward the 'I lead a swinging life, who needs a man anyway' argument- both streams having spewed avoidable isms and literature worldwide. The truth about singledom lies somewhere n the middle.' This anthology tries to follow the middle path.

You have a beautifully written piece on becoming 'Suddenly Single' by Gouri Dange, you have the problems of the single mother brought forward in 'One plus three' by Anjali Puri, while Annes Jung touches us with her piece 'A world of my own'. On the other hand you have the always entertaining Suhel Seth, telling us his secrets of Seduction, Renuka Narayanan informing us of the advantages of singlehood in 'Minority Report’ and Rahul Singh excusing his singlehood, by blaming it on his 'imperfections'.

The problem with this anthology is the one that is there in all. All the contributions are not of the same level. Karan Thapar's piece is not even worth reading, while Dolly Thakore's essay, though from the heart, seems like a school essay, given it's pedestrian language and banal ideas. As someone wrote in this book, 'It's difficult to write about something that is a state of being as if it were a choice.' Not everyone can do it, but those that manage, do it beautifully. The Book should be definitely read, for the wonderful insights of all these people, whether we get them or not.

The words that they use, the ideas expressed and the metaphors used are wonderful, and humorous at the same time. When Mahua Sen mentioned 'carrying the heavy corpse of my own life' I know exactly what she meant, even though she used it to describe a different situation. Somebody else talks of the word Singleton, being a cross between single and Skeleton. What surprised me, as well as the editor, is that few people have written about sex or lack of it. Apparently there is more to life then just sex.

In the end, if you can learn anything from the book, it should be what Namrata Joshi Says, ‘I guess most of us singles are idealists, hopeless romantics who are not denying company but looking out for that perfect attachment, a soulmate.'

Yeah Baby! I'm back

This Tuesday, I came from pune on my bike. I took 3 hrs and 50 mins for the 178 km ride. I didn't want to rush, given that the monsoon is on. The weather was so wonderful, with cool air, but no rain. When we go thru the Ghats, I felt like I was going thru the clouds...

I was Thinking of this ad as I was riding



I began to think, that who are the people that I am still angry at, and I need to forgive...As I rattled my brains, I came to the conclusion, that I had forgiven everybody. It seems, that I forgive people who hurt me quite easily. But, I know there was one person I was quite mad at; Myself. I had forgiven others, for hurting me, but not myself, for trusting them. Until I forgive myself, the healing won't be complete. With this realisation, I think I the job is half done.

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Did you read about the Road China is going to build till the Everest Base camp? It's indeed an sad day. I think we are loosing far too much in this race to be the best in the world. Hitler and Germany in 1930's had gone through the same phase, where they built the largest ships, the largest airliner, the best engines, believing that having material things makes you the best. It's sad to see a Wise civilisation like china, following the same path.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was in Delhi, I had met Mr M.B. Lal, who asked me whether I read books. I had jokingly replied that I read far too much, probably too much for my own good.
I know that I am a geek/nerd & love reading books. But I truly realised the extent of my bilomania, when I saw the books that I have began reading in the past 2 days.

[I was going to put up a Picture of all the books I am currently reading, but I found out that I have left the camera cable at Pune. SO depressing]

I have began 6 books in all, which will add up to about 2500 pages in total. & I am sure that I will finish them all by next week

~~~~~~~~~~~
The News coverage of the return of Sunita Williams has been disappointing, to say the least. I know that many people are interested in this story, and this could have been used as a way to teach people about the wonders of space, and teach them about Science. Instead we have News Channels here covering the Havans & the namazes that people are offering for her safe return. Now I am not saying that Prayer is bad; It does have it's benefits. What I am saying is that we have lost a wonderful opportunity to popularise Science and Space travel.

2nd Delhi Vignettes: 2 Proposals, 2 biharis, 2 movies....

As my stay in Delhi draws to a close, I think it's time for the second instalment of my observations.
Delhi is very weird city with the security apparatus being very in your face. You have traffic on large wide roads, crawling to a halt, only due to a traffic roadblock, manned by maybe one or two policemen. I wonder what they are looking for. You have two lines when you enter the metro station, one if you have no baggage & the second one, where you will be checked, if the guy is in the mood. Even at red fort, they have an X-ray machine, and you are physically frisked as you enter. The funny thing about all this is that even though there is a lot of security, nothing is secure.
The reason is not difficult to imagine. The checking is very often Perfunctionary. Like several times, I was more enthusiastic to get my bag checked then the guy was to check. Funnily enough, at Red fort, both my pant pockets were bursting forth with 2 cell phones, a camera, a water bottle & a pen Knife. The guy patted me down and let me go. I was left wondering whether he just wanted to feel me up or what...
Now we all know how I don't suffer fools gladly...You hardly need to be reminded about the fake ID scam or the incident at BARC. But I don't even want to resist here, coz it's really sad and scary. I'm having a hard time figuring out why there are not more incidents here, if the processes are so shabby.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have begun to realise how sad the life, of an immigrants to a city, is. You know hardly anybody, have pretty much nothing to do, and frequent the same places and meet the same people again and again. For example, two weeks back, when due to some medical emergency, we were not getting food at the guest house. So we had to go to the M-Block market to grab the grub. Naturally we frequented Subway, for its Sub of the day, which for just 56 bucks is filling, tasty, healthy and wholesome. What more does a guy want? We used to eat there everyday, except for Tuesday & Thursday, when the sub is Veg. I realised that we were visiting it, a little bit too frequently, when the guys started saying "Welcome back Sir". I used to go there with Rohan every time, and I'm sure they thought we like some gay couple or something, coz when I went there all by myself, they were quite surprised.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I happened to meet my elderly Relatives on Friday evening, which was very depressing for me. They have known me from my birth, and it was a real pain to see them in their sorry state. Senile Dementia has set in, and they asked me the same question again and again. They didn't remember me visiting them last year, but could remember me as a 14 day old baby. These were one of the most well read and intelligent People I had known, and it was with a heavy heart that I was interacting with them. You have really grown up, when you start wondering about your mortality.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The chicks in Delhi are weird. They come in only two varieties. Either they will be slim & come to your shoulder, or they will be hefty and you can see eye to eye with them. Another weird thing we have noticed is that it's very hard to guess the age of a female here. She can be an aunty, a college going chick, or maybe young enough to make you question whether you are a paedophile. It's really that hard. I never had this problem in Pune or Mumbai. There you can figure out her age with an accuracy of +/- 2years. Maybe the girl at matheran was a delhite. But this is not the weirdest thing yet. I am not joking when I say that I haven't seen a single chick with curly hair. No one. not one. Even the South Indians I know have Straight Hair. Rohan & I have a bet. The first one to see a curly haired chick wins. When Rohan and I were at CP, we were generally bird watching, and we must have seen at least a thousand of them, but not a single one with curly hair. The prize is as of yet unawarded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The project has finally come to an end. I decide to sit up for as long as it takes, and finish the work. When we showed it to our boss, he was quite impressed. He already made us a pre-placememnt offer. But the late nights and early mornings are having their effect. The Physical stress as well as the mental trauma and strain has finally caught up with me. I am having this really bad sore throat, along with a really runny nose. I think it might take a
couple of days to convalesce.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally, I should be in Mumbai by mid next week. Yey!

Delhi>Mumbai...Ha ha...Nice Joke

Over the past week, I saw that my visitor count was rather high, and on checking the logs, I came to know that quite a few people had come to my blog, by searching for Delhi Metro on Google Blogsearch. I am quite happy actually...atleast visitors will not go away disappointed, like the ones who come here searching for weird poetry...(Try it: Searching for some weird Topic+poetry & my blog is within the first few pages on Google, with a pagerank of just 4). So I decided to find out what else they were reading.

Firstly this Blog post (http://www.sprangleblog.com/?p=61). It's written by a certain Joe Harkin who appears to be from the US. His views and observations are quite interesting. And just read it for kicks.

Secondly, a Guy called Kartik Kannan has put up some pics, the first of which is rather interesting. Cleo had told me about a similar vandalised sign she had seen. I don't know whether she saw the same sign, or that he was a serial defacer, who goes around the metro leaving his mark.

Thirdly, this post by some looser who claims to be a journalist, but has no sense of judgement or ethics. He has put up pics and then writes at the end that taking pics in the metro is banned, and one should not take them. Further more the blogger writes:

This world-class transit system has upped Delhi's prestige and in my opinion has helped it replace financial hub Mumbai as India's hippest city.

It was on reading this sentence, that I was forced to blog.

This is a classic case of what is called a non sequitur.

Ok, the Delhi metro is better than the Mumbai locals by certain narrow parameters; but that's pretty much it. How does having a metro that closes down by 10:30 in the night, make your city a hip place???

I didn't want to make this a Delhi v/s Mumbai post. As Prashant Parikh says on a particular community on Facebook:

I'm SICK of ppl comparing the 2 cities, isn't the answer OBVIOUS?!?!?!
It's not that Delhi is a BAAAAAD place, it's just that Bombay is so much better!

See, when I usually say that Mumbai is better than Pune or Delhi, I usually mean that it is more convenient. I know it inside out; don't have to think at all while doing anything... So it's easier, and more convenient. I'm sure that when a delhite or any other outsider visits Mumbai, he or she too, will be confused by the system, and will prefer their home town. But one should also remember that when we talk about anything, we do that using our subjective background. So when I compare Delhi to Mumbai, I am doing it because, that is the only reference point or control I have.

Just as I understand that saying Mumbai is better than Delhi would be unjust, the converse too would be incorrect. Just having a Metro in certain parts of the city, and big wide roads and 12% canopy cover, do not make a hip city. What makes a city hip is being free to do what you want to.

• Being free to go out whenever you want to, and being confident that you will get food to eat.
• Being free to open your mouth and say what you want to.
• Going out at whatever time of the day or night, without being concerned of your personal safety.
• Knowing that, gods forbid, some calamity fell on you, people would readily help you.
• Knowing that people generally help you without exploiting you.

It's things like these that make a city hip and liveable.

Delhi Vignettes - 1

After two weeks in Delhi I have sort of settled down, and stopped being shocked by the varieties and the idiosyncrasies that this city has to offer.
As a Mumbaikar, the most striking fact is the pace of the city. In Mumbai, we are used to the fast pace, where time is very valuable, and everyone tries to do things in the most time efficient manner. Be it the shopkeeper who directs a boy toward you if you are standing idle in his shop, or the Auto driver who takes the money and gives you change in a flash, everyone is quick and nimble. P.L. Deshpande had written in one of his short sketches, that for a Mumbaikar, the watch is attached not only to his wrist, but also his destiny. When I told a co-worker that I was from Mumbai, the first thing that she said was 'Life bahut taze hota hoga, naa.' I don't know whether our life is fast, or theirs is slow, but the relative difference is striking.

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I happened to travel by the Delhi Metro, this Friday. Now the Delhi Metro is matter of prestige for most delhites. When I had told some expatriate Dilliwalaas that I would be in Delhi, the first thing most had said, 'You have to travel by Metro'. Whenever some foreign Dignitary comes-a-calling, they are shown the Delhi Metro as a symbol of India's Development. I wonder what they think about it. They must be wondering, 'These Indians call 'this' modern? Then they are behind London by almost 120 years.’ What did I think, you ask? Frankly speaking, I am not at all impressed.
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As a Mumbaikar, I am used to long distance mass transport being a challenge. The Indian Railways must have decided that since Mumbaikars do not have much time for exercise, their daily commune should involve a sufficient quantity of it. This will lead to a fitter citizen and a healthier life. The Metro people here have no such lofty aims.
When you want to go up, you have the option of an escalator. Paying the fare and buying a token involves standing in a line for hardly any time. As you wander in the station, you don't have to raise you hand either to your eyes or nose, to avoid your senses from being offended.
There are markings on the platform which tell you where the doors of the coach will stop, and how you have to stand. When the metro train comes, you gather at the sides of the doors, and wait for them to open. Once they do, then people will come out from the centre, while you enter from the sides. In about 30 seconds (30 seconds??? the local trains in Mumbai stop for barely 11 seconds) the doors close, after an audible warning. This is what disappointed me the most.
You cannot show off you simian characteristics, which survived so many million years of evolution. I am of course talking of 'Hanging out’. This is the most fun part when travelling by locals, back home. Also you cannot show-off your feline skills, by rushing off to the closest available forward facing Window seats, due to the very absence of such kind of seats. Further more, vertical distance between the platform and coach is hardly 1 cm, while horizontally it is about 4-5cm; something that will hardly be called a gap by a Mumbaikar.
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The announcements however, are as funny as in B'bay. There we have the announcers asking us to 'Pay your attention' like it some extortion money we have to dole out. Here you have a male voice in Hindi, and a female voice in affected English, talking to you while you are travelling inside the coach. They help you out by telling you which the next station is, implore you not to litter the stations, and remind you to save you limbs by staying away from the doors. The female voice at times tells you to 'Please mind the gap.' This is the aforementioned gap. Methinks they should say 'Please don't mind the gap' since it is so small. The passengers are also warned to take care of their valuables, since ‘Pickpockets have been identified in the coaches’. I wonder that if they have been identified, why they haven’t been arrested as of yet, and instead allowed to roam free.
There is however a nice egalitarian result of the Metro. There is only one class, and no ladies or handicapped or luggage compartment. Everyone travels by the same class. You will see laptop toting executives and cloth bag carrying dehatis besides each other, hanging on to the same hand support, which like always, comes at my cheek level, threatening to destroy my eyesight.
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~~~~~~~~~
The food is going to be a problem. I am used to blazing through the day with only a couple of Vada-pauws and a cola, in my stomach. Lunch here consists of proper Punjabi Veggies, deep fried is the most cholesterol high oil, to be eaten with Roties covered with a thick layer of butter. No wonder I feel so sleepy in the afternoons.
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I visited Rajiv Chowk at CP after ages. It is now totally changed. The Rajiv Chowk Metro Station is underground, with two lines crossing; So It happens to be the largest station, or so I am told. For this they had to dig the Chowk up completely (as seen from the Google Maps) and they totally redesigned the garden. It now has beautiful walkway, manicured lawns, Powerful fountains and a nice open Air Amphi Theatre.
I also happened to dine at Nirula's. The standards seem to have fallen. I was looking forward to pigging out like I did along with Zulfikar back in 2001, but the first dish I had, itself was disappointing. I had asked for a footlong, and I got something that resembled a Long Pizza, with the mushrooms being dry and the cheese being chewy and not at all creamy. Nirula’s seem to have lost their identity, post their takeover.

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In case you think I am being too harsh on this city, please remember that this is the Vindictive and arrogant Opinion of a pure thoroughbred Mumbaikar, on seeing a superior city. When you come to Delhi, you feel like you have come to the 'Rajdhani'. Be it the elegant curves under the flyover for U-turns, or the sparkling lines of led's on the road dividers or the uniform Urban fixtures, or traffic signage that actually makes sense, all make you feel like you are at a Special place. Infact I'll go so far as to say that if you have a place to stay, there is nothing like Mumbai, and if you have accommodation and your own vehicle, there is nothing like Delhi.
On an ending note...You feel the grandeur and the royal heritage of the city, the moment you land here, either at the railway station or the airport, when the Auto-wallas claim astronomical sums for short distances.

Fear

"Have you seen Real fear in someone's eyes?" he asked me. "Real terror, fear of death, nor your ordinary, help-me-god fear."
I was travelling on a flight back home, with the latest Grisham in my hands. I had first seen him at the security check. He looked quite out of place, with his old fashioned tweed coat, and a brown leather suitcase. With his hennaed beard, and the thick glass spectacles on his nose, he strangely appeared quite self assured, a person who had seen the world. I had figured him out as a talkative type, and when he came and sat down next to me, I buried my nose in the book, trying to appear as asocial as possible.

"A look like that can change your life for ever." I silently wondered why I always get such talkative people as my co-passengers. Why do people of his age think that have figured out the world, and why do they want to bore other people with their theories? But I remained silent, in deference to his age.

"Let me tell you a story. A story of an experience, which changed me for ever." I realised that this was going to be a long one, so I ruefully closed the book. I was in half a mind to hit him on his bald scalp, with the thick volume.

"Some time has passed since this happened. It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon. The sun was high up in the sky, and the air was warm. Too warm infact. It was the kind of heat, in which even flies do not fly around, eating rotting flesh. I was on a village road, happily riding my 1953 Royal Enfield. The warm air felt like warm sand running on my skin. Not that it mattered. I had no care in the world, no deadline to meet, and petrol was not a problem.
There was not a soul on the road. Who would venture out in this mindless heat? Most people were sensibly enjoying their siesta.

This is when I saw a dark figure in the distance. I thought it could be a mirage. As I went further, the figure split into two, and I could make out two women trying to cross the road. Both of them crossed, and then one figure went back to middle of the road and stooped. I was approaching that spot, so I honked to warn her. The one at the side of the road looked at me, but the one in the centre, wasn't even aware of my existence. I honked once again.

She pulled herself up to her full height and began to look for the source of the honking, first in the wrong direction. Finally she saw me. I motioned her to cross quickly. I was hardly 15 m from her. But she saw me approaching on this huge motor cycle, and she froze. Like a deer in the headlights. She moved neither backwards, nor forward. She stood motionless, in the centre of that narrow road.
I realised that it was too late to change course, and I slammed the brakes hard. I could see that I was heeded directly towards her. I stood on the breaks to apply even more pressure. By now, I could look into her eyes. That is what we were doing. I was looking in her eyes, while she was looking in mine. I saw a look of sheer terror in her eyes. I didn't know what was going on in her mind. Was her life flashing before her? Or was she remembering her loved ones? I don't know. Her face had contorted into a disgusting scowl. It was a strange cross between biting one’s lips, and an open, gaping mouth.

I suddenly thought of skidding the bike to avoid her, but since I was within a few feet of her, it wouldn't have helped. Thankfully I felt the bike slowing down. I heaved a sign of relief, as I stopped within 6 inches of her dainty toes. The strange look on her face evaporated. Before I could even say anything, she jumped and joined the other woman.

I was too affected to follow her or talk to her. For a moment, through our eyes, we had spoken to each other. I don't know in which language. But for a few moments, my soul knew what hers was feeling. I had felt the very same fear that she was feeling. It was one of those threads of humanity that goes through each one of us. It is at times like this, that they come to our rescue. That is our Insaniyat, the things that make us human."

I took a deep breath, and opened my mouth. "Son, I am 73 years old, you must be in your twenties. Don't think you have seen the world, till you really have seen the world. And never ever keep me away from my Grisham. One more thing: don’t go bald for style. You will miss your hair, when you are of my age."

Infra Red Photography

I have the most boring paper tomorrow, and hence my mind is easily being distracted. A Few days back, I was surfing Orkut, (i.e. checking out random profiles) and I found this community for Infra Red Photography. I checked it out, and it had every thing, except anything on IR photography. The absence of anything worthwhile, planted a seed in my Brain. I had to find more about it.

I already know a few things about Infra red light and photography.

• Firstly, most CCD sensors can record IR light, but the lenses have special coatings, or special filters are used, to prevent the Camera from seeing this, for two reasons: You can see thru people's clothes using IR, and the IR light can totally mess up the 'in camera' calibrations.
• Secondly, Shooting in the Near Infra Red band can have its advantages. This is from Remote sensing that I have been studying. Water appears dark in the IR band, while Vegetation appears bright. This forms the basis of mapping out vegetation using Remote sensing data.
  

In my search, I came to know that the IR blocking filter is present only in the recent models. Now my camera is around 430 camera-years old, since I have been using it for the 5^th year running, so in no way can it be called recent. Maybe I can after all do some Infra Red photography with it. I figured that since I was not going to study, I might as well do something constructive.

Firstly I checked whether my camera can see IR. This was achieved by using the most important invention ever manufactured, the humble TV remote control. The L.e.d. in the front gives out signals in IR, and hence can be used as an IR-only source. (Check it out. You should not be able to see the l.e.d. giving out light, when you hold it in front of your eyes)

Here is how the pulse appears to the naked eye


Here is how it appears to the Camera. (You can see a bright light emanating from the led)


Secondly I had to make a filter, which cut of the visible light, and allowed only IR to pass. I googled around, and found that you can use unexposed developed film, to make an IR pass filter.
So I searched high and low for some film of this kind, and finally found some.



On placing 2 layers in front of the lens, this is how the remote control signal appears.


Finally, after I figured out that it would work, I had to make a filter out of the film. I'll spare you the details, and just show you how it looks.

Now I can just attach this to my camera lens, and am good to go.

*
**
***
****

So I present to you, the World through IR light:

Here is how a Tungsten Bulb looks like:

Look at these flowers

In IR


Or these


In IR:

You will realise that what happens is, that the flowers, reflect very little IR, while the green leaves reflect a lot. Also the twigs, and the dry parts, that are in direct sunlight, reflect light throughout the spectrum, as can be seen in the normal as well as IR photographs


Now look at this place. Notice the white marble, the grass, as well as soil that can be seen.



When you see them in IR, you see that the marble reflects very little IR, while the Grass and Soil is almost indistinguishable.


Finally, the pièce de résistance:
You can see a variety of Objects in this Picture: Water in the swimming pool, the grass, trees, buildings, sunlight being reflected from glass...



Now look at them in IR

Whooo!
What they have been teaching us in Remote sensing is true...


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A note: I have a paper on Image Interpretation tomorrow. It deals with looking at satellite images, and then inferring from them what is on the ground. You can find out, not only whether it is agriculture or Forests, you can also tell which type of forest it is. If you are really experienced and skilled, you can even say what specie of tree it is. I am too bored to study it, and thought an experimental approach would help me get more marks. Let’s see whether this turns out to be true.
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P.S. This not meant to be an artistic post. It is to satisfy my geeky urges. And if you don't think, that making something on your own, finding new things, and using things in a way they are not intended to be, you are not a geek of my type. And if you haven't experienced the joy of seeing the theory working out in practice, I pity you. It’s one of the most beautiful things in the world.

Teri Yaad Aati Hai

I have been an Adnan Sami fan, ever since I heard his voice along with Asha Bhosle in 'kabhi to nazar milao'. The same album contained his 'Lift Karade' which I totally loved. Here was this round, fat guy, who was having fun, could sing well, and laugh at himself. Why He even made fun of himself in the remix of that song.

Soon songs came and songs went. Every bollywood heroine, wanted to feature in his songs, and I really didn't mind. His songs were as beautiful as ever.

In the Middle of 2006, he went into hiding. Maybe a month back, we heard that he was exercising and losing some weight. We said, 'good for him'.

A week back I heard he was back. Back with a new song, as well as a new waist line; look at him at the Miss India contest:

Apparently the man now weighs 97 kilos and looks pretty happy with this achievement. Not only was he looking slimmer and trimmer last night but also appeared to be in a peppy, naughty mood while interacting with the contestants.

When I saw his new song, I was floored. Not only is it a beautiful song, but it struck a chord.

Have you guessed why it touched a chord?

Well coz it features SXC.

He reminisces about a woman whom he loved and grief over losing her just after professing his love for her, But for me it's something totally different. I left Xavier’s just when I was having the most fun. It's like just when I was having the most fun, I had to stop. So the "Teri Yaad aati hai' is for college, and the fun we had there.

On a related note, you will see that they have made the first quadrangle, look like some European cafe or something. Actually the first Quad has always reminded me of Venice’s Piazza San Marco

Why? The library building clearly is influenced by Doge's Palace

Don't believe me?

Well, look at St Mark's square in a 360 degree panorama: http://www.italyguides.it/us/venice_italy/doge_s_palace/doge_s_palace.htm

Now come back and look at some pics of the Library Building

and

Now what do you think?

I first got this image when I saw the first Quad flooded in 2003, when I had come on a rainy day.

From Wikipedia: The Piazza San Marco is the lowest point in Venice, and as a result during the Acqua Alta the "high water" from storm surges from the Adriatic, or even heavy rain, it is the first to flood. Water pouring into the drains in the Piazza runs directly into the Grand Canal. This is ideal during heavy rain, but during the acqua alta it has the reverse effect, with water from the canal surging up into the Square.

Namesake: The Movie Review

About a year back I had read the novel, and had reviewed it: The Namesake

When I heard that they are making a movie on it, I was worried. The book is so beautiful, with characters sketched in details, lovely scenes, subtle references ect. How would Mira Nair cram all of this in two hours? I waited with bated breath.
Slowly the marketing hype began to be built around it. Mira Nair and Tabu even came on Koffee with Karan. It was left to be seen whether the movie would justify the hype.


So how exactly is the movie? Not too impressive. Let me elaborate.

The Good:
The movie has Tabu as Ashima, a role which she pulls off with ease. You can imagine her as the lonely woman who does not want to raise her son in this foreign country, or as the woman who tries the prospective groom's shoes before she accepts him. When you see her suddenly start singing, embarrassing her children in the process, you can see your mother in her.

Irfan as Ashok Ganguli, is perfect, with his diction, his mannerism or even the way he talks to his son.

Zuleikha Robinson is exactly what I had pictured Moushami to be. She looks just like the shallow, confused, hot slut that I had pictured her as, after reading the book.

The Bad:

Kal Penn is definitely the weak link here. He definitely has talent; he not just Kumar or the secretary of the Party liaison, but he is dwarfed by Irfan and Tabu. Or maybe it's the director's fault that his character's growth is not shown properly. His sister, as well as Maxine make just guest appearances, a far cry from the pivotal roles they play in Gogol's life.


The Ugly

The blame without a doubt, lies with Mira Nair. She has been faithful to the story, taking small scenes from the book, and bringing them out wonderfully on the screen. She brings out the subtleties like the expressions on Ashima's face when Maxine calls her by her first name. Or the small fights between the siblings and so on.

Where she fails, is in properly sketching out the characters. There are about 2 scenes describing Gogol's angst against his name, before he decides to change it. Or that the interaction between Gogol and Moushami is almost nonexistent, before they marry. On seeing the scene where they have their first date, you feel that he is attracted to her only sexually, which is not the case. Or that you almost don't know the sister. I could name a thousand different things which bothered me. The movie seems to lack continuity, and seems patchy.

Another problem, is that there are several jarring scenes. Take the weeding night scene. I really don't see why you have to have them dance on Hindi film music or mouth clichéd dialogues. Or take Ashima's speech in the end. How in the name of god does she come up with that kind of language? It just seems so out of place.



Ok I think I am being rather unfair to the movie; No movie can capture the soul of a book...
Wait... Peter Jackson did.

Poignant Point

After the recent SSC paper leak in Maharashtra, a lot of vernacular newsprint has been wasted on the issue. As expected, Nothing constructive, or original appeared...till today.

My grandfather saw this reader's letter and read it out to me on the breakfast table. Let me summarize what the wise man wrote to the newspaper:

It is indeed sad that some students had to resort to cheating in the exams; But if you think about it, almost everyone copies. Some copy from chits, while others copy from their friends. Meanwhile the Toppers, copy from their memory.

I can bet that this point will be lost, on the majority of the readers.

Love lost: An allegorical tale

Their first meeting, was totally unexpected. He was with his friend, while she was with hers, amongst thousands of people on a January morning. That cool winter morning, running along with entire Mumbai, along Marine drive, he didn't feel strange to stare at her. When their eyes first met across the road divider, he was stunned. He hadn't seen such beautiful eyes before. It didn't matter that she was soaked with sweat, for so was he. It didn't matter that her hair was messed up, coz no one can have beautiful hair in such a situation. She had a beauty, which shown thru all of that, and he himself was surprised to be attracted to her physically, when all along he called himself an intellectual creature.



He felt a surge of energy, felt more alive then ever before, and began to run faster, so that he could catch up with her. Running so fast made his friend breathless, but it hardly mattered; he had to meet her. When he reached closer, by some strange twist of fate, which god had planned all along, his friend recognised hers. Soon they were chatting, which was hard to do, when you have got to run 13 miles. So began that unlikely bond. By the time the foursome reached the finish line, he knew he had found 'the one'. Our crocodile hunter had found his Terri.



That race turned into lunch, lunch gave rise to coffee several days later, which grew into daily encounters. Meeting her totally changed him. He began to dress well, turned into an extrovert, he began to be concerned about his appearance, and he became more cheerful, confident, and so on. Most of people around him recognised the change, and wondered about its source.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well it didn't entirely change him. He was still afraid, very afraid. He never got the guts to tell her how he felt. He preferred to remain alone, rather than experience something new, which could hurt him. It didn't help when he told himself, that just because some other girl had hurt him years ago, this one would too.

Looking back at this, all of that felt like a joke. Did he really love her? Then why couldn't he muster the strength to tell her. This probably meant that he didn't love her, he told himself. It was just too difficult to accept that fear was stronger than love, especially when all love stories said that love conquers all, especially fear.


So had all this been a dream? The evenings at Kala Ghoda, the dinners at Leo's, the walks on the beach, the waiting on the platform, those conversations over cutting chai? What was all of that? He remembered being happy, having fun. Really, what was all that? It was too late now...She was leaving for the U.S. 'Who goes to the U.S. nowadays?’ he asked himself, 'especially when everything is available here?' He conveniently forgot that the root cause of cynicism is usually jealousy.


What about the fantasies of growing old with her? Of seeing the world together? They had a lot in common, and that is why he was drawn to her in the first place. He had enjoyed doing these kinds of things with her over the past few months, and had hoped to do so throughout his life. All those fantasies were now lying in the wastebasket of time.


~~~~~~~~~~~~
He met her that last one time, to say his final goodbyes. He had been telling himself over that last few days that he would be better off without her, but he didn't believe that lie, one bit. But it was too little, too late. He still couldn't muster that mythical strength, to confess his love. 'She probably doesn't love me, for if she did, she would have said something’ the coward within him was saying. He approached her with fear in his eyes, and hugged her one last time. As she crossed over into the departure lounge, he thought he saw sadness in her eyes. Something died within him that day.


P.s. This is an allegory, and any conclusion you draw from it, is a reflection of your mental state

The Night I Met Einstein

Einstein has always been one of my favourite persons, not because he discovered the Theory of Relativity, but because he was a wonderful human being who just happened to be a great and original thinker.
If you see him as a genius, you are missing the most inspiring part of his personality, which is his humility and his basic human-ness. One should read his Ideas and Opinions to get to know him better.

Today I read this great article in RD, and thankfully found it online.

A young man who was tone deaf, happened to be attending an evening of Chamber music, and Einstein was sitting next to him. When this young man confessed that he was tone deaf, Einstein took it upon himself, to introduce him to Bach. What really made it for me, was how Einstein explained this activity:

"My young friend here and I, however, were engaged in the greatest activity of which man is capable......Opening up yet another fragment of the frontier of beauty."

Read the complete article:

The Night I Met Einstein

You Study at SIG if:

This post may not make much sense to my usual readers, the aim isn't to make any sense; In fact if it made any sense, I would hardly be blogging about it.

So You may be a student of SIG if:

• You pronounce 'Pen drive' as 'PAN Drive'
• You Want every software available on the face of the earth, without knowing what it does, whether you need it, irrespective of whether you system supports it,or even without enquiring whether it run on your OS
• You suffer from 'Laptop Envy' [similar to Penis Envy] if you don't get your laptop to College
• You carry a flash drive around your neck, as if it was a Gold medel you won in the Olympics.
• You think a chick is hot, just because she studies at SIMS
• Your greatest regret is that the Comps in the Lab cannot access Orkut.
• You life's ambition is to access the Net using SIMS Wi-Fi.