Dostana, Digression and... Dhupia?!

Today’s a Tuesday, meaning it’s the day for one of my favourite columns in The Hindu- Know Your English. The knowledge gained today was particularly interesting, the standout being the phrase ‘academic bulimia’. It really amazes me as to how the languages sometimes have the exact words or phrases for common things- and trust me, look up the phrase, unless you know it already, and you shall be, too! Another interesting titbit of info was about the pronunciation of ‘potpourri’. So many years of reading and using the word, and only today did I realise that there’s a silent ‘t’! That’s what I love about this column- it’s almost always got a revelation in store! In fact, the juicy quote at the bottom of this column every week is the source for my most-used quote, which can be found a few pixels to the right of what you’re viewing presently. Of course, too many variations of the same have now been used by a gamut of celebrities- including the one by Neha Dhupia, where the feet in the quote were replaced by... you should know it- I can’t mention it here- on a FilmFare cover .

 

(Digression- It’s the Dostana playlist playing right now, and the very song Lefty wanted on my playlist last time out!)

 

Anyway, chatting with a friend on Gmail the other day, I mentioned that I was obsessed with my blog these days, and that everything seems worth a post- more and more signs of shifting to the second type of bloggers. Sad for them. Oh, another digression, please.

 

(Digression- Did I forget to mention in the music post, that I totally dig Shut Up & Bounce, and it was on the playlist that night? Although I so didn’t dig the unofficial Indian ambassador to the city of London, Ms. Big Brother, in the video!)

 

A glance at my last three posts revealed that I blabbered on TV, music, movies and food- pretty much everything I’m upto in these holidays, unlike others off to the explore the wonders of the world, in Egypt and China, to be precise. Can’t wait for their excited narrations. Speaking of Egypt, I saw The Bucket List last night. Very nice movie. Another Morgan Freeman starrer on the list of movies I like- this brilliant actor might as well take over SRK, at least numbers-wise! I also happened to watch a movie called Definitely, Maybe. It’s a 2008 release, and of the actors, I only knew Rachel Weisz (pause for drool and starry-eyed sigh... and we’re back), and had kind-of heard of Ryan Reynolds. I’m not really sure which genre to club it in- romance might fit best, although rom-com isn’t too bad either. Again, I might be walking a tightrope saying this- Big B gave me a most quizzical look and said I had pathetic taste- but I really liked the movie- especially Abigail Breslin as the protagonist’s 11-year-old daughter, Maya. Plus, Isla Fisher’s really cute in the movie, playing April Hoffman, and Rachel Weisz as Summer Hartley is, as always, worth pausing and drooling. The pause-and-drool list, by the way, is ably led by Catherine Zeta-Jones and Nicole Kidman, among a host of others. I tend to make up this list whenever there’s a new addition.

 

The MTV Tickr, a fairly popular addition this year to the channel, was looking for writers, the other day. On some days, I seriously think it does need good ones, badly, although the guy/gal writing the Uday Chopra or Ghajini jokes isn’t really bad. The horoscope guy is simply pathetic- seems like just a space-filler.

 

(Digression- Dance Pe Chance has weird lyrics, but I guess with that kind of title, it’s warranted!)

 

Speaking of horoscopes, I’d like to let you in on some more about me. I simply love reading the horoscope in the papers every day. Before you add a few more points to my weird quotient, may I add that I do so only after the end of the day. I just like to measure how they accurate they turn out to be, and the days they do turn out to be even a little close to reality- after various twisting, twirling and imaginastics operations- I smile and go on to read Calvin and Hobbes, which, needless to say, is simply mind-blowing! My philosophy when it comes to astrology and horoscope, is borrowed from the beginnings of quantum mechanics- take known results and fit them into theories, or build theories around them. That way, the chance reading of my Chinese zodiac sign’s Wikipedia entry was great fun. The thing with astrology, at least in the case of sun-signs and Chinese zodiac, that most people dismiss as inaccuracy is actually quite unfortunate. Of course, it’s impossible to predict one’s characteristics when hundreds of thousands of completely distinct people are born in the same year, or the same span of weeks. But, the characteristics that these methods attempt to give are only a set of traits that may define a person, and it isn’t necessary that one fits all- one is supposed to fit only a particular subset of that set. Try looking at it this way, and you might just be able to appreciate such things. My Chinese Zodiac sign- Horse- is amazingly close to being me, especially that particular paragraph about secrets on the Wikipedia page, left me awe-struck. Mom and Big B are both Tigers, something the latter always uses in arguments involving deciding who’s more majestic.

 

(One final digression- Just finished playing the whole RNBDJ album. Not as impressive as the reviews, but Haule Haule is too charming to snub the album! And, a tip for all those with a small but growing library- just play the Rock On album when you run out of tracks; there’s a song for every mood!)

 

Before I sign off, I feel very strange ending a post without any post-script(s). No useless info to add. Sigh!

What's in a name?

The end of another calendar year is near. Ergo, so is this blog’s first anniversary- better known as the first bloggiversary. And, less than a month before the D-day, the blog’s name has been changed as notified in the previous post but mostly ignored. Hmph. I guess that’s because I never explained the change. Well, here goes...

Yours truly was sitting in this delightfully warm room in Noida, and with the cable’s limited capability, was reduced to watching a half-hour ‘news’ report on how four friends hacked another friend to death during a drunken night out. Infotainment at its very best, one might say. Another might just throw up on him. But, one might just deftly change the channel, to a totally unintelligible Tamil channel and then decide to just shut the idiot box for good. This is exactly what I did, as I sat down to type out one of my longest posts. And, change was the thing on my mind, as I thought up more interesting about-me’s for Orkut and Facebook, and this page wasn’t spared too, as I thought ‘The Geek speaks... or rather types!’ wasn’t even a joke any of the Big Bang Theory quartet would’ve appreciated, and, Amy Lee, Shawn Michaels, The Rock, Jena Malone (who played Christopher McCandless’s sister in ‘Into The Wild’) and a few other arbit crushes and idols crossed my mind, and, the next thing I know, I have a new title for this webpage! Of course, implementing that change, and publishing that post, were 8 hours of sleep and a 4-hour flight away. But, then, after that patient wait, spent dreaming about playing the Sultans Of Swing guitar solo in front of my tenth grade batch, and reading the in-flight magazine twice over (ignoring the stupid lofty ads, of course), the changes were duly made, and they shall stand till the next change of mood comes along, ignoring peacefully the challenges posed by nostalgia, incumbency, and a fetish for choosing easily memorisable dates for occasions.

Whoa! Was that sentence long? Grammatically correct, but the structure was surely something my high-school teachers won’t be proud of. I remember telling one- my class-teacher for two years, and one of my favourites- about my blog. She did express a sense of happiness, pride, and some more emotions you would associate with teachers when you meet them after a long while. But, little curiosity was exhibited. Boy, they do know how to dodge these kinds of situations! Never once was the link to my blog asked for, and lost in conversation, I forgot to give it, too. Sad. I guess I’ll get a banner, or wear a T-shirt, to publicise my blog at my school’s alumni meet. I wonder if I’ll be kicked out unceremoniously. Or worse, not allowed to enter in the first place. But I know it’s a dead idea, anyway- I’d be too lazy and too frugal to get that T-shirt made in the first place. The Black Sabbath T-shirt, on the other hand, is a much better idea. And one I think I am going to go ahead with. Oh, in the sudden change of topic, I forgot to mention- I’ve become a huge fan of Black Sabbath over the past couple of months. But, Dire Straits still rule- Crazy Train was toppled by Brothers In Arms. Tandoori Nights, though, continues to play in the background. If loving you was wrong, I don’t wanna be right... (A highly nasal) Rabba Rabba...

 

By the way, back home, and I haven’t learnt any lessons from all my previous holidays, and continue to sit watching TV series and movies on the computer, when not fulfilling the role of Couch Potato. TV’s seen a sea change, now though. No more K-serials on Star Plus. That’s probably robbed the pleasure, and killed the routine, of many a housewife, and working ladies, too, across the country. I know this is coming very late but I had to experience the change to talk about it- and although the channel listings are full every time I press ‘Guide’ on the remote, the hole left by the removal of these serials, not just on the channel, but in our lives, is yet to be filled. Afternoons and nights aren’t the same anymore. This, of course, has given a great opportunity for the other contenders for the No.1 channel spot to rise, especially when one of them has a Balaji show running on it. But, Bani can never be a Tulsi or a Parvati. I still remember, when we’d shifted to Vizag, and had survived in a house without cable television for a few months (Jai Hanuman, Suraag and Chitrahaar were the saviours then), how everyone had a glimmer in their eyes, when they discussed Mihir’s killing-off, and subsequent bringing-back-to-life. I remember reading in newspapers, that Resident Welfare Associations (RWAs, Noida residents would prefer) had actually taken out rallies in many cities, demanding a change in the story, to bring Mihir back. Considering that, the response to this taking off air of the very same serials, has been quite muted. It’ll also be interesting to see how Smriti Z Iraani and Sakshi Tanwar (thankfully, no numerological name change for her) will come back to try and break away from the moulds of the immortal Tulsi and Parvati, respectively. And also, whether Ekta Kapoor will ever deliver something as legendary as KSBKBT and KGGK ever again- these along with KBC, have been enchanting TV viewers since their almost simultaneous release nine years ago.

Speaking of KBC, in what seems to me as an attempt to regain viewership, Star One is now telecasting ‘Legends of KBC’, a collection of classic celebrity KBC episodes. Interesting it will be, to see whether it does gather eyeballs. What has caught mine, though, are some really interesting advertisements. The Futures General insurance ad, showing how a family helps their elderly grandma blow all the candles on her birthday cake, and the new Airtel ad, with Shreyas Talpade rolling back the years with his father, manage to bring a smile to one’s face, and I consider them to be delightful ads. The new Virgin mobile ad, although not as brilliant as its predecessors, remains characteristically cheeky, and gets the point across, importantly.

 

Sigh! There goes another attempt at a short post! There goes another attempt at a good post! There goes another post... (A sigh of relief may now be let out by you without any reservations)

 

P.S.- Do check out my Orkut About Me. And the status message, too. Puhleez!

P.P.S.- Whatever the post may suggest, I liked Kahiin Kisii Roz (not sure about the spelling) the most, as I had a brief crush on Mouli Ganguly, and for the legendary Ramola Sikand. Just to clear the air, I watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Scrubs, mostly, nowadays.

P.P.P.S.- Kung Fu Panda is an awesome movie. Forgetting Sarah Marshall is forgettable. Memento isn’t- condition or no condition. And BBT season two is off the hook!

Long time, no see...

Alright. It's been a while since I last managed to bug you with my whining, grumbling or my brilliant sense of humour. 25 days, to be precise. But, this has been a period of change for your truly. 10 days after the last post, I happened to receive my personal computer, or, if I am to indulge in some shameless bragging, my ultra-fast, uber-cool and supremely brilliant (configuration and performance-wise) personal computer. And, it's only a matter of time, before I start getting accused of lack of social activity since its arrival, which might as well be a reason for the inactivity of this very page.

Now, I wouldn't delve into a SriPri or Dela-esque post wondering why I haven't posted in a while, or a Lefty-ish post listing all the wonderful things to have occurred during this hiatus. Not that I dislike doing that; I'm just too lazy. And forgetful.

My sheer joblessness has reduced me to sitting on Chehra ka Kitaab (which always reminds me of that song from Baazigar) with no one else online, sifting between the 'Home' and 'Profile' tabs when not gawking. This, more often than not, results in either me posting, or publicising the blog. As indolent as I've been to type anything longer than a few four-line verses, I chose to do the latter. And, it has actually resulted in something positive, after all. Apart from praise, friends getting nostalgic, and a few cases of nausea, people have actually started taking interest in the blog, even recommending topics for posts. Now, here comes one which I had thought of right at the beginning of this semester before I became too involved in it to remember.

Age of Empires (AoE) had, by the end of the second semester, become quite a fad in our year, so much so that it actually became a significant parameter for the choice of hostels. But, as luck would have it, the branch-wise allotment system led to all Electrical guys being forced to set up base in Azad. But, also as luck would have it, some of the more addicted gamers in the year above ours also happened to move into Azad, resulting in the creation of a huge following and addiction for the game. When I say 'addiction', I mean it.

No meal of the day would have a non-AoE conversation. Strategies, analysis of the previous game, predictions for the next, discussions and a myriad other related things were the order of the day. Chats, even spoken conversations, would be generously littered with spatterings of GG (good game), 11 (AOE chat lingo for laughter), 8 ("All hail, King of the Losers") and other numbers and abbreviations, making normal people (like thou, for a certain period of time) rack their brains.

Now, though, with half the wing playing the game, and the other half too used to it to bother, the aura surrounding the topic has slowly dulled, the LAN installation, removal, and reinstallation being flashes in the pan.

Meanwhile, I also happened to discover that concentrating isn't a tough job. 'Spirit walks', the name stolen from a popular TV series, the idea from Paddy, is this brilliant thing I've discovered which actually lets me think about pin-point issues- an ability whose absence has been felt severely, and mostly reflects clearly in my writing, me being such a scatter-brain.

The other day, a spirit walk went a little astray, with me wandering off to the corner of Azad Bhawan, barely able to hear the chatter at Ravindra Canteen, with Bhupi's voice clearly audible in the now-chilly night air. I went up to the wall and ran my hands over the shreds of broken glass embedded in cement. The instinctive urge to touch those sharp edges surprised me. I started to think of heights, and how I feel it completely natural to imagine falling- not the part where I hit the ground, it's too gory for my fraidie-cat self- it's the idea of falling, going down with gravity, that, well, fascinates me. But, then, the crazy mind of mine began to evaluate the source of the broken glass- light bulbs, broken windows, used tumblers, and whiskey bottles! Yeah, at least all that boozing comes to some use!

Just for the record, a busy Thomso passed by in the weeks gone by, and so did an uneventful Diwali, apart from the night being lighted up by the electrifying guitar scene in one of the most legendary movies of all-time, Karzzzz (It's four Zs, according to the initial publicity promos of the movie).

P.S.- (As promised) Special acknowledgement for the Electrical kholu, for giving an idea for the first half of the post.

Movie Review: Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na

I thought I’d add a new feature to my already very insipid blog called (very aptly) Viewer View. Dubble Vee, as I call it fondly, is named (very aptly, as mentioned earlier) because review seems to suggest viewing the movie again and I can’t guarantee that all the time and viewer (which makes up the apt part) is actually an anagram of review. So, DV, as I fondly refer to Dubble Vee, today is about a movie called ‘Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na’ (as mentioned above). So, here we go with Digital Voyeurism (as I fondly refer to DV)...

I saw the night show of this movie yesterday and today (as the show extended past midnight, technically speaking) and I felt it was awfully dumb.

Re-views of this highly detailed analysis of the movie are unwelcome (which isn’t necessary to be told, I’m sure).

Unfortunately for your tired eyes and greatly red mind (because of all the blood around it, and otherwise...), I’m not one for short posts so I’d just ramble on...

The last few weeks have been mainly spent trying to complete the hexaple with Tottenham (winning the Community Shield, Super Cup, Champions League, Premier League, FA Cup and League Cup in a single season) for the sixth consecutive year, praying for a certain mailman who paints a tennis court not to do the same (with full respect for his game) and biting the dead skin on the sides of my thumb trying to anticipate the rabbit-hole brothers' next moves as they try to break out of jail, again. Not greatly productive work, I’m sure, but whenever the electricity somehow conjures up a way to go out for minutes at a stretch, I can’t help but feel helpless about my social apathy at this stage. I’d only gone out of the house once in the past three weeks, that too to empty the ATM and bug the cell phone service guys. I hadn’t called (up, on) any of the numerous friends I was dying to meet a few months ago. I realised my only connection with the outer world had been a certain social networking website named after Finnish for ‘multiple *rg*sm’ and my balcony. Ah, the balcony. How much time I used to spend there, staring blankly at anything I could find- the huge apartments building ahead, the thele-wala just at the edge of the crossroads, the eternally-under-repair bridge over the drain which had a stream running down through it where the washermen had smartly placed their beating rocks (the not-so-pleasing-to-the-ears rock music) and, of course, all those people passing by- pedestrians, bikers, cyclists, cars, school kids with their tired spines and dreary faces, coaching class victims with their even more dreary faces, all kinds of people. Voyeurism (in the most positive sense possible) was a wonderful activity; made me relax but still kept me thinking. Now, the overgrown coconut trees’ branches obscure my view of the road ahead but I still love to lean down on that steel railing and look straight ahead, right up, crane my neck way to the sides- do anything to feel like I’m still living in a world with six and a quarter billion people.

As for my social ventures, after a less-than-eventful class reunion (even there I managed to earn a few expletives, and left the fairer gender totally awestruck, in the most negative sense possible, with my amazingly unkempt hair) and a trip to a rare sun temple with the family, supermarkets’ food-and-drink sections were the only contacts.

A(n? Still confused over this) year away from my place and I’ve become an introverted, anti-social, rude imbecile, who can barely start up a conversation. And I surely don’t like it. A change of attitude, a change of personality, a change of outlook is on the cards. I feel like I’m trying to walk sideways, and I’m ending up falling by the wayside. Too many ‘I’s in a sentence surely isn’t a great sign either, for my writing skills. I’m actually thinking of quitting the very magazine that I had thought of committing my heart out to for three years. And I’m not watching enough South Park. These last two very rare days, where a trip has been made to a lower way of sandwiching and the movies, might be a good start. Now, is the time, for a change...

P.S.- The movie review feature will still run, although not that conspicuously here forth.

P.P.S.- My sincere apologies to those who were offended by the title, and decided not to go through the post. But, wait, they wouldn't reach this part anyway. Sad.

P.P.P.S.- I've caught yet another cold, which resulted in this post being typed with greatly mucus-afflicted hands. Useless info. Anyway, no girls read my blog. And, even if they do, the hair was repulsive enough, wasn't it?

P.P.P.P.S.- Yes, Sushi, this thing is pretty popular because we never run out of things to say which are totally out of context.