Monday, July 27, 2015

Masaan

Masaan - मसान  - colloquial for "shamshaan" - (cremation ground). This movie by Neeraj Ghaywan flows like the Ganga in Varanasi - the setting of the movie. So many stories flow into each other really well . Good and bad, corrupt and honest, foul and attractive, evil and nice, troublesome and helpful - all flow along and into the Ganga making this film an absolute treat.
Here is a link to the soundtrack . I have linked it from www.firstpost.com. 

Saturday, November 06, 2010

The gradual loss of expression

The Turks don't speak English at all. Even if they know the language they don't speak English when they are sitting with natives of Turkey. They don't say January , February; they say Ocak, Subat etc. They don't ask you what your email id is; they ask you what your e-posta is? They don't appreciate it when people who can speak Turkish start speaking English.
We , Indians, can speak English. And there's nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all. But in the process we are forgetting if not our umpteen languages but the nuances of these languages.The proverbs, idioms, those stinging words for sarcasm and those starry words for romanctic poetry; we are losing them all gradually.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

It's in a plastic bag!

A plastic bag is your life.
It holds securely
but it also suffocates.
The one you hold securely starts to rot,
it sticks to your sides discharging gunk.
The gunk leaks its way out.
Some of the gunk is left inside the plastic bag.
It stays immobile in this plastic bag and
doesn't leave it
The plastic bag glides from a posh kitchen's garbage bin to a ditch in the slums.
But it all stays: the gunk and the plastic bag!
Plastic is not bio-degradable, you see!

It's a play of darkness and light

Your calm and the tenderness is effective
It gives power to the mind
The body is energised
All around me is lit up
My heart oozes with love
My tongue drips with candy-drops
Then comes the long dark tunnel
Where tenderness can't be found
The calm has turned into a thunder-like whizzing noise
My body limps
My mind sags
My heart hangs from a weak dry branch looking like a non-biodegradable plastic bag
My tongue dribbles just profanities and insensitive remarks
The cycle keeps going on after the tunnel ends and there is light again
And from light to darkness and from darkness to light.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

It's simple!

It's simple!
This is how it works.
It's like this:
You give 2 he takes only less than 1.
You give 1 he takes 5.
You want a metre but
 he gives you an inch.
You expect just an inch  but he gives you the world.
You think he is just another person floating around you but
 he becomes the axis on which you start revolving.
You get used to the axis and the revolutions but
he conveniently drifts away and
you shake as if there was a 7.0 magnitude quake.
You think you have collapsed but
you stand up again to be shaken again.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Noises out Noises in

Noises more and more
Some outside some within
The noises outside are heard but not listened to
The noises within are only listened to by the self and not heard by others
The noises outside can bring about laughter
The noises within are about darkness
and they throw up questions
about the definitions of right and wrong,
about good and bad,
about logic and illogic,
about fair and unfair,
about love and games,
about trust and insincerity,
about doubt and belief,
about black white and grey.
You can shut out the noises outside
but there is no pill for the noises within.

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Take care!

Stop! That hand will rattle you;
It will lightly brush you with adoration
but you will yearn for more.
Stop! Those eyes will muddle you;
They will look at you tenderly
but you won't find your way in the dark.
Stop! That concern will jumble you;
It will offer you solace
but you will toss and turn in your bed.
Take care and build a fence!

Friday, December 04, 2009

One more death of trust

I am not hurt
I am an oaf now
To me you were like a kid
(Yes, WERE).
There’s a stroke of ruefulness
Though you don’t deserve any.
You are savouring this,
Your evil mind is embedded in you,
Your evilness will kill our innocence and trust.
You are such a waste of energy,
Or you are wasted.
What you call religion is not just reading the Book,
Follow it and perhaps you will be cleansed.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

The whiffs of Love

Don't fret
Love is not pure
Love has a waft
But it just changes it's whiff
A friend's love smells of fun and concern
A student's love smells of attention and fondness
A spouse's love smells of chores and onus
A family's love smells of trust and strength
A parent's love smells of comfort and warmth
A lover's love smells of passion and separation
In one breath love has myriad aromas.
Take them all in.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Toilets and Corners

Corners and toilets feel the safest
Walls on your sides in a corner are arms wrapped around you
The silence in the toilet is a lullaby sung to you
The groove of a corner is your lover's bosom
The silence of the toilet is your mother's comfort
Toilets and Corners it is then!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

The architecture of Touch

It is the design
The pattern is the same
First it is numbness-forced one
Then comes that special touch full of warmth
Numbness trembles because it was not real
The touch leaves an imprint
You use fake detergent to wash it away
You know if the imprint stays stains won't be far behind
You are fed-up with washing the stains
But the touch creates a flutter
You know it is the design
You don't really delight in the design
But there is no flipside
So stains and more stains and tough stains you are left with to wash again.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Spineless

Spineless: A species that has a spine but because of lack of inner security or self-confidence their spine loses strength and , therefore, are called spineless. You will definitely see their spine but it will be squelchy. If you press their spine tenderly it it may ooze out sycophancy which can have an unbearable stink. Mostly, you will find this species everywhere but more at the workplace.

Friday, August 07, 2009

Saif, Sikhs, beards and Sweety Baba



So there is one Mr. Charan Singh Sapra, the President of Punjabi Cultural And Heritage Board who thinks he is the keeper of Sikh values, morals and beards. He has made Saif and others associated with the film, Love Aaj Kal , apologize ( that little wriggly worm inside me says that the apology was in the form of bank notes with Mahatma Gandhi's photo on them) to the Sikh community. I am also a part of the community but I don't need anybody's apology because I don't think there has been any misrepresentation of Sikhs if Saif is seen with a trimmed beard in the film.In fact he has potrayed the Sikh character with dignity and elan.

Mr Sapra would surely know that all Sikh marriages take place in Gurudwaras now. Many grooms have trimmed beards and nobody can stop them from getting married in the gurudwara just because their beard is trimmed!

On the other hand it is people like Sweety Baba aka Sarabjot Singh, son of Buta Singh who are a blot on the Sikhs for having names like Sweety Baba. And will Mr Sapra please ask Sweety Baba to apologise for the crores he has gulped down his big round Balley Balley belly?

Also will Mr Sapra please ask those two heavily- bearded Sikh Jawans in Assam to apologise for teasing a girl who owns a shop?
Its time that the likes of Charan Sapra stopped targetting soft targets like Imtiaz Ali, Saif or Akshay Kumar for political and monetary gains.

Friday, May 22, 2009

A thought on the new cabinet ministers

For the first time I was stirred by the swearing-in ceremony of the new cabinet ministers. Graceful, sombre, intense, serious, business-like, professional - thats how they looked. I hope they will sustain this this time inspite of parties like the DMK.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Buying and selling bodies, not politicians

Some bodies are being bought, some bodies are being sold;
the wheeling-dealing makes you guys businessmen of the ugly sort;
yes, politics is a business
but you get so immersed in your business that you forget the ones who are immersed
in floods, in sewage water, in darkness, in droughts, in famine, in joblessness, in poverty,in long queues outside your offices, in unending lawsuits,in potholes, in caste wars, in honour killings, in cargo ships packed like sardines to cross over illegally, in ignorance, in fanaticism.

If only you were not bodies in a market!
If only you guys were real politicians!