Bangalore… was always sceptical about the city…I mean every self respecting Bong pseudo will look down upon everything that city stands for…capitalism, urbanization, easy money and partyyyyyiiiinnn (we prefer our staid adda sessions thank u )…but then now that I am visiting it (after some 8 years)next week for whatever reason , I wonder if my opinion of the city will change…

I remember once when I was 4 yrs old and my sister 7, we plucked some squashes from our neighbor’s garden for my mother assuming that she would be happy…My mother reprimanded us and made us return those innocent squashes to our neighbor …the feeling of humiliation and hurt was so intense that I still hold a grudge against her…I still cant talk to her amiably at length for more than five minutes….

Of obnoxious instructors and impending newsletters…
When someone is as obsessive and compulsive a procrastinator as I am, life isn’t exactly easy… and when such an obsessive compulsive procrastinator takes on the duty of an editor of a newsletter, then one can be sure of one thing, that the newsletter wont be out on time, and not very surprisingly and very predictably I managed to postpone the publication of the already delayed newsletter due to nothing but sheer laziness...and to think I spent the whole week thinking about my editorial…
And to top it all I have managed to enroll myself in this incredibly lame course called “writing for newspapers”-sample this
Instructor with a phoney accent and a fake attitude: “what made u choose this course (i.e. writing for newspapers)?”
Me : “that fact that I want to write for newspapers sir.”
Instructor with a phoney accent and a fake attitude: “good”.

Incredibly irritating and earnest student: “Sir don’t u think news which affect greater number of people should be given greater prominence.”
Instructor(with the aforementioned qualities): “it most certainly should, I am impressed with ur progress incredibly irritating and earnest student.”

Such is my life but do you hear me complaining…

I have a strange ailment nowadays, I can’t eat (the only time I eat is when I eat out) and hardly ever sleep (am averaging 4 hours of sleep everyday, which is alarming by my standards, coz I used to average 8-10 hours) …mornings are particularly bad coz I m pukish… ugly girl suggested getting a pregnancy test done, wish that was the case though, at least there would have been a sense of purpose to the suffering…

A college pic of me and my friends… a few digital strokes and we are just anonymous, faceless bodies…

A love that will never grow old...

Go to sleep, may your sweet dreams come true
Just lay back in my arms for one more night
I've this crazy old notion that calls me sometimes
Saying this one's the love of our lives.
Cause I know a love that will never grow old
And I know a love that will never grow old.
When you wake up the world may have changed
But trust in me, I'll never falter or fail
Just the smile in your eyes, it can light up the night,
And your laughter's like wind in my sails.
Lean on me, let our hearts beat in time,
Feel strength from the hands that have held you so long.
Who cares where we go on this rutted old road
In a world that may say that we're wrong.
Cause I know a love that will never grow old

Brokeback Mountain

This time of the year always does this to me …I jump around, clap my hands in glee and root for my favorites unabashedly…no I m not talking about the football season, or the cricket season either…it’s the award season that I am talking about, Golden Globes have been done away with, the Screen Actor Guilds award are just around the corner and the countdown to the biggie has just begun…the Oscar buzz and the Golden Globe indications points to just one movie, the movie that I am dying to see Ang Lee’s masterpiece Brokeback Mountain (5 top Golden Globe Award winner)…a cowboy story with a difference…now I wont talk about the film, much already has been written and said about it, but can I just say that I am DYING to see it… the other movies that I am EAGERY waiting for are Transamerica (which won the lead actress Felicity Huffman her first Golden Globe),
Capote (Philip Seymour too earned his first Golden Globe for his portrayal of the troubled novelist Capote), and the critically acclaimed History of Violence (though Medusa thinks it’s over hyped, I feel it definitely deserves a watch)…Everybody says we should stop celebrating the Capitalist institution that Hollywood is, and I agree wholeheartedly, but then who can resist the magic of the movies (certainly not me)…

Whenever I feel the world is against me (which is ever so often) I have realized only one thing does the good, taking an auto to the nearest mall (which happens to be the Life Style complex in this very compact city). There is something so calming about the look and feel of a mall; you feel nothing very bad could happen to you here, the quietness and proud look of it… The piped music, the brightly lit showcases, the posh mannequins the fruity air freshener,and the happy /harassed/confused/lost/determined faces around you: malls all over the world look and smell the same and that’s what’s so comforting about them: they connect you to your never seen cousin in Birmingham (long live globalization) …
No one is ever going to be rude to you here (and even if there is a disapproving salesperson following you around everywhere you have the power to screw up his/her happiness by lodging a complaint at the customer service desk). Everything is on sale here and those little commodities that probably will mean nothing to you in a few days time ,give you a hollow pleasure when you buy them…
You take in a whiff of the fruity air freshener and look around your domain contently; after all, the urban animal in you would like to believe that you are the master of all you survey …

Edelweiss, Edelweiss,
Every morning I wish I could see you
Blossom of snow
Bright and white
Can I touch you?
Blossom of snow
Bright and white
Can I take you home?
Edelweiss, Edelweiss
Will you wilt if touch you?
Blossom of white
Bright and white
Will you fade away if I take you home?
Edelweiss, Edelweiss
May you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever…

Of farts and belches…

Some time ago I had commented on how I hate the sight of the male of the species indulging in something which comes most naturally to them …scratching crotch , yesterday I was subjected to another sight which I find very repulsive , a very pleasant looking middle aged man was digging his nose vigorously, with such concentration and singular devotion that one would assume that his life depended on it , and have u ever been in a dinner table where u hear the person next to you fart (and if its really not your day you smell it too) and u don’t know where to look because you are embarrassed for that person while he gorges on his chicken tikka (filling u with the dread of being subjected to a chicken tikka flavored fart …ewww) and after that you probably will never see the perfectly respectable person in the same light again coz u heard him fart , or the time when the teller of the bank decides to burp right on your face polluting the air with the smell of his lunch… now I m no prude and I confess to indulging in each and every one of these very “biologically justified activities” but then why am I (in particular) so squeamish about the public display of them???
Farting is the spontaneous expulsion of intestinal gas through the anus and is as common and important a biological process as say blinking…then why is there the stigma attached to it …maybe because of the odor it emanates …
Wouldn’t it be nice if we accept these biological functions as normal and stop attaching the stigma to them? A world infested with farters and belchers and crotch scratchers !!!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Its that time of the month again folks, I am not talking about partying till wee hours of the morning time (though it’s the right time to air ur naphthalene smelling pashmina scarves and pin striped suits) what I am talking about is my Movie of the Week (or what I call MOTW) time, never mind the fact that the week sometimes stretches up to a month and a half, since it’s the time for resolutions and retrospection, lets go back to a time when the movies weren’t so compulsively audacious (Being John Malkovich, Magnolias) and obviously special effecty (do I even have to name anything???)When a filmmaker could actually fall back on his and his cast’s talent to see the film through (and not depend on some wiz kid from silicon valley to embellish his film with pancakey effects), when “big” meant a big cast and not mindbogglingly huge budget and a casting coup meant getting Richard Burton and Elizabeth together and not Will Smith and some computer generated virtual thing called I robot… lets go back to Come September (1961) ta da da da daaa daaa daaa daa da da
Wealthy industrialist Robert Talbot arrives early for his annual vacation at his luxurious Italian villa to find three problems lying in wait for him. Firstly, his long-time girlfriend Lisa Fellini has given up waiting for him to pop the question and has decided to marry another man. Secondly, the major domo of his villa, Maurice Clavell, has turned the estate into a posh hotel to make some easy money while the boss isn't around. And, finally, the current guests of the "hotel" are a group of young American girls trying to fend off a gang of oversexed boys, led by Tony, who are 'laying siege' at the outer walls of the villa. Talbot, to his own surprise, finds himself becoming an overprotective chaperone…Rock Hudson in his hudsony best and miss lollobrigida is well …lollobrigida …and who can forget the unforgettable soundtrack.

I am male. Wit and charm will only take me so far. What I need is to affirm my maleness. My primordial instinct demands it. A throwback from the time when men like me ruled the plains and hunted everything to near extinction. Fortunately, household chores are a perfect platform for this. So I seek out the big games in my house. Pursue the laundry. Stalk the dishes. Ambush the unmade beds. Corner the garbage bag. Prey on dust bunnies. And I do all these with such poise that it makes alpha male of every species green with envy…

Passport: An official government document that certifies one's identity and citizenship and permits a citizen to travel abroad.
ECNR: a confusing and bothersome procedure, which almost jeopardizes ur trip.
Kind and well trained ground staff: saves ur day …
Nasty and impatient ground staff: Jeopardizes the trip again .
Passport Office bara babu (Big Boss): Saves the day again.
High drama: A situation or succession of events in real life having the dramatic progression or emotional effect characteristic of a play.

More on it later

mormon dreams
a strange and ethereal vision awaits those who visit the bhubanseshwar station, platform no 4 at exactly 1.30 pm in the afternoon everyday, mormon missionaries descend from the skies to convert the most cynical of cyincs into dreamers...

Sugar also rises...

Sugar: Hope, u have to stop cutting me short with ur smart oneliners (and u know what they are not all that smart either), u do realise that whatever u say and do reflects on "us", and just because u get all the good lines i come across as "dumb". Why do people equate niceness with dumbness???

Hope: As long as i get the smart lines i am ok.

Sugar: Why am i not surprised , typical of u to be insensitive to other ppl's needs.

Hope: Sugar, Sugar , sweet Sugar, someday u will realise thats its all about me and it was never ever remotely about u.

Sugar: (sighs) well , my fault , i was foolish enough to think that we can have a decent mature conversation without u making everything about urself...

Hopefully Feminist!!!!
Hope: Train journies are fun , but they are particularly intresting when u have co passengers like a friend did, now this Bengali patriarch wasnt (or more alarmingly , was)aware that the petite looking girl next berth is one of the most fiercely independant souls he will ever come across in his unchallenged life, and he was discussing with his earnestly wannabe MCP crony , how he would rather choke on his ilish mach than work under a woman, then he went onto advice his mesmerised chela how to deal with errant daughters in law and nagging wives(a hotline to the divorce lawyer being the brilliant idea) ,my friend was having the time of her life , being subjected to such blatant and raw sexism , she did what any self respecting intelligent feminist would do, sit back and enjoy the show....

Sugar: But you have to take into consideration his socio economical condition , blah, blah, blah , blah....

Hope:Whatever!!

Its goodbye for some time folks…
For goodbyes are never forever

Sugar: Since I will be traveling for pretty much the whole of this month, posts will be few and far between, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be posting at all, in fact for all you know I might be more prolific than ever…

Hope: As if anybody cares, get a life loser…

Sugar: Hmmmmph!!!

Hope: You know u have hit the rock bottom when u listen to Veer Zaara songs all afternoon and actually weep to them!!!

Sugar: What’s wrong with Veer Zaara? I though it dealt with an important issue and addressed it effectively, blah, blah, blah…

Hope: Yaa right (makes a face and walks away)…

Sugar: (Sings)Tere liye hum hain jiye…..

Hope and a little Sugar

Ok Guys its time for me to unleash my blogonas (blog personae)on you…meet Hope (Hope wobbles up to the stage and takes a lazy bow) and Sugar (Sugar rushes up to the stage looks around excitedly and almost stoops to the floor).

Hope:
Yo!!
They call me Hope
But all I do is Mope
Most of the time
People think I am on dope…

Sugar:
Hey Sugar, Sugar
Call me Sugar
I am your Candy girl
Let me make your life for you…

Now as you can see Hope and Sugar are quite not alike, they seem to be diametrically opposite to each other, and yes they don’t see eye to eye in most matters, but that doesn’t mean they are mutually exclusive, as a matter of fact they cannot exist without each other…After all what’s hope without a little sugar…
More on them Later.

This time tomorrow: will hopefully be halfway through Bhalla’s assignment (ok lets not get too ambitious, would have started on it), both of the Film Analysis assignments being submitted.

This time next week: will be home having muri and shingara with steaming cups of tea with my family, indulgently watching my one and a half year old nephews antics.

This time next month: will be in my sister’s place in Dubai, ideally working as a waiter in Big Macs (making some moolah in hols), but eventually ending up window-shopping.

This time next year: hopefully will be in my plush office fiddling with my super cool laptop contemplating my next groundbreaking expose (for I want to be an investigative journalist), realistically will be in the damp and ugly TOI office in Wellington, Kolkata, running after some know it all prick who is a senior just by the virtue of joining the blasted establishment a year before me.

This time ten years from now: Will be walking into my beautiful apartment in New York and will be at peace with myself mainly because i have apartments in all the major cities of the world(yes i am shallow and materialistic and a true product of capitalism), will have at least a Pulitzer for journalism under my belt and would have visited all the places I always wanted to-Forbidden City (China), Angkor Vat (Cambodia),the pyramids (Egypt) …
And hopefully there won’t be any gaps between hopes and their realizations….

This time in an hour: Madhav beckons…