How To Take Down a Stupid Notion.

Imagine an all-wooden hall. The door is shut, the windows half-open.

The source of an eerie unnatural glow are a few tubelights.

There are vases which are rumbling with voices, people, creatures and things casually strolling about – some of them real (everything/one I know of),

some fragments of others' imaginations (hippogrriffs, tyler durden, gargoyles)

and some of my own (confidential; some half-formed)

There are millions of boxes strewn about all over.

Amongst all these, there are banners hanging up – displaying slogans, quotes and statements.

Welcome to my brain.

(There are many more details in there which I will not disclose right now because you and I do not have eternity for this post).

The banner I focus on right now says –

'the human race is a highly intelligent one.'

As I see the banner with sharp clarity, one of the boxes 'POPS!' to reveal a jack-in-the-box.

It's wicked smile mocks my beaming pride for us humans.

“If you are so intelligent – how come most individuals and your planet as a whole are so messed up?”, it asks.

“We are'nt messed up”, says my voice – booming in the hall through invisible speakers.

Then the jack-in-the-box says –

“I am souha's dissappointment with copenhagen turning to hopenhagen and then into flopenhagen.

I am souha's unnending dissatisfaction with this world.

I am souha's weird identification with that rolling stones' song.

I am souha's ability to deny her own thought.”

(“You are also souha's subtle obsession with fight club's “I am jack's...” dialogues”, my voice booms, irritated)

Suddenly – a marquee board descends from above the ceiling – 'Attention all matter in here', it reads in dim red. Words continue as every object in the hall stops and looks at the marquee:

'I need to switch off.'

'How does one do that?'

That irritating box-ed jack continues staring at me coldly.

More words in marquee:

'Distraction.

All thoughts to use diversion to the following code:

Classification: Want.

Code: to watch the movie “avatar” today.'

The movement in the hall resumes, exactly as it was before. Only now little circles and squares appear from thin air. The squares sit in one place while the circles move their hand just above the surface of the squares as if to manouvre invisible joysticks.

As a result: I get up – eat, talk on the phone, dress up well and leave. I am cheerful.

And have come to watch avatar in 3D!

I saw the movie and in a word I was – uhm... REVELA-ted?!

(the sketched roald dahl in my brain hall winks happily at me for inventing another one)

What I mean is the movie was FANTASTIC – and FANTASTIC of a degree that draws from our reality and gives something back to me.

That 'something' gives me a new and strangely clearer view of our reality.

'tis a movie that made me think - with ferocity.

(Brain hall at this point is beautiful – with thoughts taking shape of spheres of fire & colours and shooting through the hall, dissappearing just before they touch anything; a comet-fall of thought, if you will.)

Being the grammar nerd that I am, I suddenly start thinking how a word is defined equally by both – its synonym and its antonym.

How we are defined equally by both – by that which we are pro and by that which we are anti.

By that which we are; And by its opposite.

Avatar showed me a glimpse of that antonym world. And oh, it was beautiful!

Needs were needs, nothing more.

There was a higher, more evovled network between everything.

Na'vis (the people of this antonym world) respected nature and everything in it.

Dying, they knew – was returning energy that had been borrowed. It was not the end of the world.

The focus was not living for what you become, but for what you are and how that fits in nature's scheme.

They loved their mother and were true to her.

Most importantly, they lived THE song - “Imagine”, by John Lennon.

At least they did before human aliens came along to destroy all they had for a precious metal buried deep within the tree in which they lived

(yes, the TREE, IN WHICH THEY LIVED – do you see the difference?!).

You can guess what the humans did to get that precious metal. If you cant, try and wiggle out of your nice little bubblewrap. Humans blew up everything.

Bill is right. We are about out of ideas on this (our) planet.

We are almost EXACT opposites of the world of the Na'vis.

Presents quite a sad picture, doesnt it.

Just like a Na'vi says in the end – the aliens went back, to their dying home.

Also, it was quite nice to see humans cheer for the na'avi side. Against the humans.

But these very specimens let the message drain out from their mind-sieve even though it hit them between the eyes – “Its only a movie, let it go...”

Sorry, I wont.

As a race, we have characterised ourselves with bad choices. Too many of them.

Profit over welfare, lies over truth, betrayal politics over loyalty, honesty.

We have been going on like this for zillions of lifetimes now.

It is safe to say we are'nt headed for a happy place.

Not a surprise – considering we choose (yes, CHOOSE, continous present) silly entertainment over evolution. We CHOOSE to let ourselves be blinded by everything we are spoonfed.

We, unlike the Na'vis, do not see.

I turn to the jack that started it all and I admit: Maybe humans are not that intelligent after all.

With that, the banner falls and in the brain hall, forth comes Master Oogway, (the wise tortoise from Kung Fu Panda): one often discovers his destiny on the road he takes to avoid it...

The Jack-in-the-box smiles again – and I know thats not the last of it i'll be seeing.of it.

As the banner falls down, the marquee box descends again – a little brighter than before, with the words: Another One Bites The Dust.

a letter to the food makers of the world

Someone once said, 'food is the only beautiful thing that truly nourishes'

Someone is Richard Gere in the movie 'august in new york' and the quote is the most beautiful thing i have heard about food.

Food is one of the things that i love about being a human. Really, i think, being able to eat all this FANTASTIC food makes all the trouble being a human, worth it. We could have gotten on well (better than we think) on just what nature provides; its not even rational in the strictest sense - but we did it.

We created an art out of a basic need.

"You have not discovered other joys of human life", you might say - and though that might just be the truth, no one can deny the absolute, fleeting happiness that good food gives.

Whether its hot (rather, garma-garam) pav bhaji or creamy, crunchy spinach and corn quiche or just a simple salad decorated with spices and herbs that beckon admirers from miles away

- food breathes in so much melody, passion, drama into our life. Without most of us actually realizing it.

('tis funny how most of us don't realize the extreme, intoxicating beauty of so many things around us; try thinking about electricity for a while - Well, that's another post altogether)

Its not just a daily activity, food. Its a kind of miracle that happens everyday - everything just fits. The sugar, the flour, the water, the heat - all get along superbly, everyday to make the wonder we call bread.

(okay, i'd just like to clarify that i am not a freak who fantasizes about bread - well, maybe a little, but i just really love food)

Its the greatest achievement when we, too, replicate the process and emerge victorious. A greater disappointment than we like to admit when we fail. Like I did with my fudge today.

When such misfortune occurs (and hard-hitting as the truth is - it DOES happen, children.) - A cheesy pizza becomes our (yeah, okay, read MY) lord, the savior.

The process of making food (i could just say cooking, but making food is more appropriate, i think ;D) is, in itself, like life -

that starts from a random list of all things available in the universe to cook, then the things you select, then how you arrange them, all in a beautiful composition, a little time and you've made yourself a harmony!

A tangible song, if you will - which you CREATED! Which is YOUR baby (which you will, uhm, EAT; but that's secondary)

Whether it's a composition thats been around since forever, or if its been passed on to you, or if its your very own - making food is one of the MOST INTERESTING thing life on this plane of existence has to offer. Something everyone should experience.

(You should know, i rarely say should... well...mostly.)

Listening to the spanish guitar while doing it is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

(post on spanish guitar might come soon after this piece on food - although i have EXACT same feelings for both.)

And to those MASTERS, who go through this marvel of an experience everyday - whether in one or several house kitchens or in that of the greatest restaurants - i'd just like to say - thank you.

What you create makes the world a happier place.

Colours of the Wind

The one thing that people (family, friends) always associated (read still associate) with me is my lack of alertness. I have fallen (literally and figuratively) a lot of times – too many times as some would say – because of my absent-mindedness. But whatever and how-many-ever the case(s), I still cant keep m

yself from gaping at the sky and escaping into my own amazing planet while trying to matter in this little world of ours.

A new addition to my planet is something that I have been fascinated, no, raptured by for many years.

I saw it the first time in “Pocahontas” (my favourite disney character, by the way) when I thought that was just the brilliance of an imagineer (please google 'imagineer', if you dont know what it means). Then I saw it again, in Brother Bear and most recently, in Happy Feet.

('tis most amazing how Disney and others' animated movies can provide a portal to your own planet; where imagination is set free)

Naïve that I am, I didnt think this was a real phenomena. Dont fret, “this” is to be revealed to you soon.

Then, on my way to try and see the world through backpacking – an email came my way – offering me to take me to a place where I can witness this brilliance – IN ACTUALITY!

IT'S REAL?! (one exclaimation mark does'nt really express my ecstatic state, but nor will three and I am fond of grammar)

I googled it's name (and oh, what a glorious name it is) – AURORA BOREALIS – more commonly known as NORTHERN LIGHTS.

(Named so after the Roman goddess of 'dawn' – 'AURORA' and the Greek word for 'north wind' – 'BOREAS'!)

It is scientifically explained as the combination of some of the earth's atmospheric gases with the sun's which creates a sort of light show (rays of green, blue, red, and even violet in moving and pulsating shapes)

For me, this phenomena is nothing short of magic – and the folklores about it do agree.

And if not in march 2010, I will go someday, and see this phenomena – which looks as if beauty of all the world's dreams has been put together.

I will stand transfixed; paralysed by what lies before me and think about the MINDBOGGLING FACT that I am made from the same matter which makes aurora...

Even though i've not yet seen it, even the photos of AURORAE (plural for aurora) are a door to a new place – of dream like reality. Of a place where watching it, I become one with the phenomena and fly in the starry sky. Of a reality that is so gorgeous, it makes me question if it is real, at all.

Maybe that's what happens when the men and women of the world become cold and cynical and untrue. Maybe our priorities are really mixed up.

I say this because it is beyond me – why a schedule, a plan is more important than shape of clouds, constellations, aurorae...

Why we don't understand just how essential it is to, in Pocahontas' words to – “paint with all the colours of the wind”

But then again, that's just the rant of an absentminded kid, right?

Niid ka Nirman, Phir Phir :)

The thing about destruction is that most people, and by extension, most movies ignore that it leads a way for creation. That, exactly, is the strongest point of 2012, a film directed & co written by Ronald Emmerich.

The movie is about a certain alignment of all the planets that is happening for the first time since the dawn of the humans. Whether UB313 is included & Pluto excluded I am not sure; watch them in the title sequence and wonder why they didn't make the movie 3D!

This causes major changes in and on our planet which put into action the supposed “doom”. The word “supposed” takes a backseat (a rather far one at that) when scientists discover that the phenomenon will take place much faster than they predicted – all in a day, apparently! No prizes for guessing that day is 21 December, 2012. (which, incidentally, coincides with my friend's birthday, so we might have a party in advance, I don't know).

Thus, the “fire and brimstone – revelations!” ending-of-the-world part begins. We see doom with the Curtis clan, a regular Hollywood family – oh, come on, you know the drill – white, 2 kids, ex husband, ex wife who both still love each other but have separated for reasons which you and I should not get into &, finally, her boyfriend.

All of whom try their best to survive this doomsday – & yes, the best a little girl can do to survive IS wear a hat!

For a detailed (read more plain, more boring) synopsis - http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1190080/synopsis

2012 does do what it is supposed to – show extreme thrills for lazy adrenalin junkies (myself included). The special effects, the “OH SHIT!” moments & the “they're not going to make it” moments are all there. Larger than life visuals are all well in place but their impact is a little reduced because you know that the over-the-top destruction has been created, which is why 3D for this movie would have been apt (read, MINDBLOWING!).

One thing that makes the movie scary is the thought that “this might just happen”. It keeps toying with your brain and makes the movie seem like a plausible reality. That is where it succeeds to give its audience the *in a radio advertising voice*: “thrills, chills and excitement!”.

The actors are just convincing. John Cusack as the failed author cum ex husband is rather plain. An actor of his caliber deserves meatier roles (Please watch “Being John Malkovich” or even “America's Sweethearts”).

Danny Glover acts the part of President of the United States of America by being overtly noble. He gets a little irritating when, at the time of total anhilation, he wants to have a casual chat about his deceased wife.

Chiwetel Ejiofor (Please tell me how to pronounce that) gives a good performance as the humanist scientist. He does get over-emotional at times, but so will we when it comes to doomsday.

The real show stealer, however, was Woody Harrelson as Charlie Frost, a madcap (costume took that term rather seriously) radio jockey who keeps track and knows accurately of our event and updates everyone from inside the Yellowstone national park

(which, I noted was the home of yogi bear; I'm sorry to tell you that traces of yogi bear – in hibernation at the time – are yet to be found, what after the forest turning into a volcano).

Coming to the 'The representative of Indians in Hollywood' (that's what he said; courtesy: HT Cafe) – Jimi Mistri is cute to look at as scientist Dr. Satnam Tsurutani (*bearing massive headache*: too many jokes! Too many jokes!) but cannot speak Hindi to save the excess oil in his hair!

The women in the movie are negligible, Amanda Peet (Mrs. Kate Curtis, the ex wife), Thandie Newton (The First Daughter) & Beatrice Rosen (Tamara - the Russian millionaire's cheating, dog-loving mistress) do hardly anything but wear water, dust, general anhilation-proof make up & look pretty in the face of complete destruction.

Almost as if to say: “i will not let you affect my presentation, doomsday, I simply WILL NOT”.

And now, my favourite part of the movie –

It's subtle symbolism – which might just be crashing into your face but you wouldn't get it if you aren't thinking. This symbolism – the small facts (which you are already supposed to know) and their incorporation in the film is what gives you hope. I, obviously, cant give you examples because then I will be revealing what you should work out and feel good about yourself. To someone who goes into the theater with active grey cells, it can provide answers to metaphysic (metaphysic, metaphysical, I don't know) questions, even.

Its on the lines of Tyler durden's philosophy (If you do not know who that is, please read or watch Fight Club)

So when your going into the theater don't switch off your brains – as we are often told to do. (actually, while we are on the topic - don't EVER switch them off.)

If you check the facts, you ll know (as I now do) that the Mayan calendar (which is the premise of the 21 December, 2012 being doomsday euphoria) actually extends to octillion years (maybe they just didn't feel the need to publish it at the time, I don't know).

But at the end of it all, the movie doesn't just turn out to be about doomsday – to me, it just says :

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.”

a day in the "real world"

This is something i discovered in the drafts section of my posts. Its from an email i sent almost a year ago. Like alot of issues there is always a solution, often a compromise - but it's important to remember what the struggle was actually about.

And i do, still, want to remember this "grapple", if i may.

So here goes:

i got my salary yesterday.

Sent a text to mom dad saying it felt strange.

Here's why.

I have long been obsessed and upset with the idea of growing up. of being an adult.

In very simple terms, I HATE IT (still do).

When i got the cheque in my hands - the whole 'being paid for your work' process began sinking in. Stay with me, i'm not slow. I may be over-analytical, but not slow.

This is probably why everyone is not completely and totally happy. Money ruins everything. The dirty, strange feeling of being paid for what i have done.

In my mind, in my heart - the work i am doing is no longer a labour of pure love & learning. Now its give and take. Cut and dry.

I want a world that doesn't run on and for money - but for what it wants, for what it really RELISHES doing.

I know it doesn't work that way. and that's what kills me.

Hurts this wonderful part of me that everyone calls 'kid' - that is already being diminished by the adult world.

All those things that people say that make you want to be an adult when your a child.

ALL LIES!

Adults are good at advertising. THAT is the problem.

Somehow, its like everyone really loses perspective of what is REALLY important.

I know i'm blabbering about a world that i want and which can never be but i just cant help asking why.

One Day at Dadar Station...

I saw a monk on the station, a few days ago.

That’s right, a Buddhist (Tibetan, I think) monk, on a railway station.

Standing amidst a rushing, blurred crowd.

I guess, he too wanted to go somewhere – but it just didn’t seem like the same thing. And it wasn’t because of his clothes or his shaven head.

Maybe it was his expression, which (to me) seemed like that of peacefulness and shock.

Was he shocked at us, the normal crowd – running, pushing, bustling to get somewhere…

(To get somewhere, to get somewhere?)

Or was he shocked because of something that had happened in his life… that compelled him to travel to our crazy city?

Either way, he hadn’t lost the sweet, serene peace inside him.

You know, I have this little game that I play when I’m on the station. On the stairs I try and ‘overtake’ the others. The more people I beat, the better I feel about myself.

But today, when I saw him, after beating ‘lady in rush no. 3’, I stopped. I just stopped.

A few pushes a lot of swearwords later, I realized you can’t just stop on the station. And so, I started walking, slowly, so I was right behind him.

I don’t know why, but I felt like stopping and talking to him. I wanted to know where he was born, why he was here, where he was going, where he came from, why he joined a monastery, what was in his yellow cotton jhola, etc. etc. etc.

But I didn’t ask him. I didn’t stop.

I didn’t.

Instead, I took the stairs to my platform.

The Utter Crappy Episode of a Failed Session

11: 35 p.m. - I am extremely sleepy. My brain is not showing any signs of life. But I am going to write. Yes.

My friend, katya has enlightened me (several times, mind you) with a quote that she once read (on her way to Mahabaleshwar). It said – “If you want to be happy, so be.”

Yes that’s the quote. And it’s by Leo Tolstoy.

So I in my more than 3-quarters asleep mode am applying the same logic to writing.

“If you want to be a writer, write.”

By Maitreyee Upadhyay.

(You can quote me.)

With this line, my brain suggests a series of “if you want to...” quotes. Hope awakens in my sleepy system. My brain says, “If you want to be a cook, so cook; if you want to be a joker, so joke”; Hope, now, chokes. Just one last one, my brain says – “if you want to be a kitten, so purr” it says and cracks up. Hope dies.

12:00 midnight - I now realize my brain has now semi-woken up. It has also become a separate entity, a different thing, a creature – slower than a dead sloth. With an uncanny resemblance to lyka the dog that has adopted my office as her second (or official, my brain suggests) sleeping / eating place.

12:30 p.m: Another creature arises. ‘Tis Brain-lyka’s foul play, I suspect. It starts grumbling and moaning loudly, demanding food. Reminds me of my sister when she was an overweight infant. “Can’t ignore this one” brain-lyka suggests. I agree, promising myself to come back to leash brain-lyka and write.

1:00 a.m. – Oh, how I love rice! The monster of my sister’s infancy has been silenced. The prospect of sleep seems glorious. Brain-lyka nudges me towards it. But I am still driven by my writer-urge (that very rarely succeeds in making me shift my position from the couch to the chair) and don’t lose focus. I want to write something important. Something that matters. I tell my brain.

It shrugs.

“The whole world is drifting towards a narcissist consumerist lifestyle obsession” – This is me trying to leash my brain-lyka.

Brain-lyka: “Illa Lilla Lilla La. Lilla Lilla Lilla Lilla La. Lilla Li La Lillill La. Lilla Li La…” How is it that I remember songs whose lyrics I don’t understand? I have got to be amazing.

I: No your not. You still can’t remember the 5 Ps of Marketing that we were taught for 3 years. Plus, this song means nothing. At least this part. The rest is Russian, I think.

Brain-lyka: You can’t think. I think. For you. And I think the 5 Ps are rubbish. Anyway, it’s not just this song. Many others. That are supposed to be English.

I: Example?

Brain-lyka: Miami by will smith. I just sing the chorus as : “iis on-a li(f)in saaa…efen su remember…”

I: What the…?! What about consumerism?

Brain-lyka: What about it? Self-Consumption might be the end, or some such. That’s unimportant.

I: Ya? What is important then? Please enlighten me.

Brain-lyka (British-ish accent): Thank you. I am glad that you are trying to un-block yourself. Allow me…

What is important is whether giant aliens will respond to the crazy frog tune.

What is important is when I am going to get to see Robert Downey Jr. next.

What is important is who is the genius that has managed to fuse, so effortlessly, a Bhojpuri song and vengaboys’ brazil.

What is important is why people sit in chairs when benches and tables are so comfortable.

What is important is why people (read you, instead of people) feel repeating words adds to the impact.

What is important is why eminem makes it so difficult for you to make people understand that there is some sense in his songs.

What is important is why Jai die at the end? And if it’s not a happy end then picture abhi baaki hai, toh baaki ki picture ka baa rahi hai?

I: Shut up! Fine! Sleep! You crazy fool!

Brain-lyka (super-calmly): You’re the one talking to your brain in the form of a dog. YOU need sleep.

I: (long pause; no argument)

I (to you): I really wanted to write about consumerism or what’s happening in Africa or something else. But. I am extremely sleepy and my brain has taken form of a dog and is saying things I don’t understand.

Brain-lyka (now on my lap, happy and licking with my decision to sleep): Because understanding is a process that I do.

I (to you, with great difficulty ignoring brain-lyka, with overbearing sadness):

Good night.

Both I and Brain-lyka sleep.

chotu note - 'b'

i just realised something and want to tell you that im not fixated over the alphabet 'b'. I just really like it. Its evident in the title and the previous post and in my personal choice of pet names (for me) - basanti, billo.

And just for the record, my favourite use of the alphabet is in the sentence -

"bumbling bambling band of babboons"

new blog new beggining

i had a blog. Okay, that sounds like a singular version of cooties, but you get what i'm saying. Who are you? I dont know. Do, you, my reader actually exist, i dont know. But i want to write. I also want this to be the single-most popular blog on the planet. But i don't know how one does that. All i know is once you have a blog, you write a little about yourself, then keep writing about, well, whatever you want to and if people want, or stumble across it by accident or if are coerced (which, people who are my friends will be) - will read it.

True, I was equipped with this information earlier as well, but, as fate would have it, my lazy-butt would conflict with my brain. Now the conflict has been resolved.

So this is another attempt.

And as of 9th Aug., 2009 at 11:02, i have a blog.

I solemnly swear to write in it. Readers or no readers.

Because, that, should never bother a writer.

(You can quote me.)