Went to MMB for the "Kalpanirjhar" short fiction film fest yesterday.

Was appalled watching the Indian movies. What is it with our incurable obsession with sexuality? And the crassness? My GOD. Why don't the best come out of their closets and send the worst back to where they came from? Loved the Polish film "What it's like to be my mother".

Went for phuchkas with Bharati and mummy after that. There were three marwari guys standing there,eating to their heart's content. Fine. It was fine till their faces started growing green with every phuchka. They noticed three women standing behind them waiting patiently so they were doing it purposely. They ate till the phuchka container was empty. Seriously. I HATE cheeky marwari bastards. I hate marwaris in general. Period.

I'm not sorry if I offended someone here.

Musical maturity

I was thinking of a conversation I was having with a couple of friends once. How liking jazz and slow and beautiful music shows you're maturing and definitely shows a maturity in music taste. I'm wondering more about that conversation sitting as I'm typing this post. I'm listening to Norah Jones's "Feels Like Home" and downloading two other albums of hers simulateaously. It's beautiful in the truest sense of the word. She really has inherited an immense amount of talent from her father. Although juxtaposing her and her sister Anoushka will be very unfair, a person like me can't help but bring up comparison between siblings of a stature as high as theirs. I am,of course,ignoring the likes of Amaan and Ayaan Ali Khan and Suha,Shaona and Armaan Khan (children of Ustd. Rashid Khan. Too early to judge given they're children but,well,let's just say you ought to give me the benefit of doubt here). Anoushka is the much media exposed and indulging-all-the-attention kind of sibling. She is talented without a doubt,but there's a certain difference between her and Norah. The latter's quiet, soaked in her art and very humble. I heard Anoushka in a few concerts and all I can say is that she plays like a dream when in jugalbandi with her father,but loses everything when she plays alone,confidence and aesthetic sense.
Never mind. We're really no one to discuss "celebrities". I judge their music. Without a doubt, jazz is like a dream. That's not forming any basis for my bias though.Maybe my interest in jazz will give Rahul Khanna a chance to like me :D

I bunked and I wrote: Magni-scope

8:15 a.m. Autumn has finally set in and is making way for winter. I can see the shawls set out to dry in the sun in my neighbours' balcony in the opposite tower. I was woken up by my mother's pressure cooker "chusshhhhhhhhhhhhhh"ing away early in the morning and robbing me of my peaceful sleep. My father's in the other room,singing away to glory. Cacophony? Yes.

A quick scan of my surroundings and I see my brother getting dressed to go to school. How time flies. He'll pass out of school in less than a few months now,and I,will be a graduate (!!!!). Still not sure about what I want to do with my life though. We'll leave that for later...

An hour later, I wake up again. I had managed to doze off again despite all the noise and worrying thoughts which I'm immune to by now. I hear a disturbing sound. Something like a "grrush grrush grussh". It suddenly dawns on me. How can I forget last night?
Quick-scan: There was some meat in the fridge which I wanted to transform into something magical using all my knowledge obtained from sitting for hours in front of the TV,listening to every word Vir Sanghvi,Nigella and so many others said in the hope of getting wise viewers who are master chefs anyway. I had taken up the herculean task of making Biriyani for my family. Uttering "swatantram swargalokam" under my breath, I started my mission when nobody was home so I could cut down interruptions and connoisseurs' comments to the minimum. I managed to cut my finger with my new double-chopper and burn two fingers but the process was fun. Mixing,frying,chopping,drizzling. I thought I had done a neat job till I made the mistake that spoiled nearly all my effort. I placed the handi directly on fire. With the lid covered well,I couldn't even smell much going wrong. 45 minutes later,I opened the lid to find all the meat burnt (dad said they looked like dilapidated kebabs) but the rice sitting pretty on top,smelling charcoal-y but tasting heavenly,thanks to all the most expensive inputs that went into making it.
Maid: "Ki go,kaal raate biriyani baniyechhile?"
Me: murmuring
Maid: "Ei handi ta ghoshte amar praan beriye jachhe!" (she meant she was having a hard time scraping the handi).
Unbothered,or lets say,prepared for more such challenges in the future,I went back to my room.
Another hour later,I shut the door behind me to go to the grocery store. I see my widower neighbour standing in the lobby waiting for the lift.
Me: Morning,Mr, Taneja!
Mr. Taneja: Grunt.
Quick-scan: The eve of diwali. Lonely Mr. Taneja was in his house with no visitors and with his daughters living in far off lands. My heart went out to him. I quickly caught hold of a packet of laddoos and went to his flat. Mr. Taneja was astonished at first and uncontrollably happy within a few moments. Just as I was about to say "happy diwali" he gave me a tight hug and planted a big wet kiss on my cheek. To be specific,it was below my right eye and on my cheekbone. I handed the box and rushed home without a wasting a moment. Mom opened the door and looked confused on seeing my expression. I quickly rushed to the sink in the kitchen and washed my face,explaining throughout how he was affectionate but UGH! EEWW! Now,the sink is so positioned that Mr. Taneja can see it from his flat. I know what must've happened there...

I'm walking downstairs to the shop when I hear "And I don't want the world to see me,'cause I don' think that they'd understand....". It's my mystery neighbour. He listens to some of my favourite songs and NEVER shows his face. EVER. None of my friends knows who he is who lives in that flat. Rumours are on the rounds,however,of a very cute 20-something boy living in that flat.
Quick-scan into the future: I take a lift with a drop-dead gorgeous guy to the 13th floor when,all of a sudden, there's a loadshedding and the lift gets stuck. Mystery man takes me into his arms and rescues me. We escape,unhurt, and helplessly in love. I ask him where he lives. "3-1302". That's him! That's him! "Brighter than sunshine" playing in the background (and on his music system).

I'm jolted from my thoughts at the store. The guy says there's no wai-wai (again. Stupid ^#%$***). I come home. Sadder about not getting Wai-Wai. The last pack I got on my birthday from a very generous friend was finished by my brother who was simply taking a revenge on me. Ugh!
I see dead bodies of insects that had flown in last night and disrupted my studying. I clean it with a piece of paper. All the bodies land on the floor,each making the softest thud as they land on the clean white floor. Where do their brains fit in? I thought to myself. After observing them for a while,I pick one up and dissect it like a pro biology student in a bio practical class. The wings are transparent with miniscule patterns. Boring. I sit on my chair. I look at Caves-Frankell-Jones. My life then comes to a standstill.

Undeleting the past

I thought. And thought. And thought some more.

I've steered clear of a lot of trouble now so I can write with a little more confidence and bring some improvements here and there (courtesy suggestions made by MB and CC. Thanks you guys!)
So here I am! Finally :D

A few random updates:
Like I promised myself,I got my license. Took out the car on my own with my brother in the front seat (with him panting and praying to God for his dear life) and went quite a distance. I went out without my license or my cell phone so got a little scared. Came back home,victorious nevertheless and very VERY excited. Haha! So proud of me :D

The overcast sky makes for a brilliant mood changer. Awesome to sit with a bottle of chilled beer, let life just run past you and not care a damn.
Rejoined my driving classes today. High time I sat for my driving test and get my license. I love driving :D
And well,there are these little rules that I had almost forgotten:
A. The more you want something,the farther it runs away from you. Stop caring,and it shall come to you.
B. There is someone or the other who'll see reason in something,even if the rest of the world doesn't. Similarly,there's someone or the other in this world who'll love you,even if the rest of the world doesn't seem to.
C. Love= Cheesy. Period.
D. If you get very tense about something,there's a very high chance it will turn out in an entirely different way from what you were scared about.
Nice,na? Bet you didn't know about all this. Aha, am I getting wise or what? :P

Bloggaversary

So,here I am! Completed a year of blogging successfully(?).

Had tonnes of fun today. That's what it's like when madcaps who've known each other for as long as they know meet up for a whole day :D

Watched Kaminey yesterday. Was the first movie I watched with my family in the theatre after the utterly disastrous Don. I had grown rusty about handling emotions,espcially laughing at the wrong times and stuff. But who cares!

Kaminey is a complicated plot to follow. It involves a plethora of characters,some of whose names you wouldn't remember only because there's a lot happening at once. Then again,this is a movie that was intentionally made confusing. From the beginning,the story starts taking form in bits and peices but when things start falling into place,you can't help but sit up your chair and watch what's happening. It's fast,quirky,chaotic but enjoyable all along. Vishal Bharadwaj's script is replete with his subtle comic moments and there's no dearth of dialogues with different speech impediments,thanks to Shahid and Priyanka Chopra. It is engaging of course,but there are loose moments,like when the title track of the movie plays in the background. This,of course,reflects poor editing.
The movie has been shot brilliantly. There are raw images as well as brlliant camera techniques which make the movie an interesting watch. The music,of course,needs no mention. The "dhan tanaaaaa"ing nation is enough to hammer that into anyone's head.
Last but not the least,Shahis Kapur IS the real substance of the movie. His acting skills have rarely been recognised and the very fact that the audience is able to treat Charlie and Guddu as essentially two different personalities is enough to tell you of his brilliance. Priyanka Chopra tries hard too,and she is very tolerable.
Madness,mayhem,chaos,adrenaline,Ffahid,Ffaaley,g...g....g...guddu,h....h....h...h...home science....
Give this movie a try! A movie trying desperately to be different yet merging with the commercial stream.
****

Kobiguru

Walking on the soil of his house,there's one thought that echoed through my mind:

Did he walk on the same grains of red soil that I'm walking on today?

Or has the soil turned to little pebbles now?

Did he sit here,in this romantic setting with cement benches,with creepers running over his head and write what makes a million hearts love and others admire him?

I never saw him in the light I saw him in that day. He's underrated,in a different sort of way. Much of what his creations are have actually been manipulated and he hasn't been interpreted the way he should have been. But that's just my point of view.

POTRAIT OF A LADY