Sunday, April 6, 2014

An Open Letter to all you kind hearted movie goers

I write this with a heart as heavy as the butter laden potato filled paranthas I had for breakfast. At a time when it's every twelve year old boy's dream to have six pack abs and charm the world, you might raise your eyebrows at the butter oozing from all sides and corners of my breakfast and the tiers I lovingly add to my paunch. But brother, when you are me, at a point you just stop caring.

I am sure none of you remember me although you'd have seen me a gazillion times - in more specific words, each time you put your common sense to sleep and decide to splurge on a real Indian masala flick and see a hero who no one can defeat and his surrounding admirers which includes me, way in the back.

Do you know that feeling when evil fills the world, making your heart heavy and face cringe and then the hero  walks in  - you look at him and then you feel like he fills the whole screen, that feeling of completeness-? No no, it is not because of his screen presence as they would have you believe, it is because of me, his sidekick or rather one of his sidekicks. I am sure it was more difficult coming up with the word 'sidekick' than making up lines and roles for me.

It's not even like I'm the villain's henchman who gets to flex muscles, dance with an item girl, eve-tease the heroine or anything remotely fun. If there's anything more boring than being the hero- the bright, round sun shining goodness, it's the stooges, little stars of goodness, yawn!

And, worst of all, I need to help make up stories, lie, beg, plead with the love of his life however hot she might be so that he can have all the fun. Even if I see the hottest girl in the world, however long her legs might be, however fat her papa's wallet might be, how much ever drunk she might be, the only reason my heart would pound is because it thumps bhabhi bhabhi, bhabhi.

And when the aforesaid hot-love-of-life is not available, I'm the one the villain kidnaps and ties up. This doesn't happen usually, because kidnapped, hot girl with hot legs is well, hot. When paunchy guy gets kidnapped, well, that's the point when ppl remember their heavy bladders, empty popcorn boxes, returning calls. So I get tied up in some unmanly position while silently applauding the hero mashing up the villain and his stooges, single handedly. I understand the point that the hero doesn't need any help to take on hundreds of six-footed, mean villains, but that doesn't need me tied up, I would prefer to be left behind to keep company to the moping heroine.

I even worked out and got a full-fledged six-packs, counted it and all. But then, the next movie was the one in which the writer actually put me in the screenplay and added a few fat jokes surrounding me. So, I had to watch my packs getting filled slowly with butter chicken and cheese pizzas.
Once I figured out that the more odd I looked, the more likely I was to get lines or atleast be the butt of jokes. I never looked back after that. With my ever growing potbelly I got all excited when I heard about this guy called Mohanlal who looked like a mini-elephant and judging by the number of income tax raids at his house, was quite rich too off movies. However, I later learnt that he could actually act, so phat went my hero-dreams too**

My requests to you net-loving ppl, who are already changing the world through sharing and likes on social media.

- Atleast five lines in each movie

- A friend/sister/maid of the heroine I can romance

- A long drawn script in which I am the long lost brother of the hero/heroine atleast in 1 in 4 movies

- Freedom to call the hero by name (gasp gasp)

- Please, please, please, no kidnap scenes involving me. Make the hero have sisters, wives, kids , all set for kidnap and ransom.

I do enlist the help of you righteous people to help me with my few, limited wishes before I lose my mind.

And, by God, if he leans his elbows on my shoulders while sweet talking the heroine, I might actually end up sloshing him on the nose.
You wouldn't spend hundreds to watch a crooked nose hero, would you?

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

And another year races by...

And I couldn’t leave it at that – add ‘blogging’ to the list of my hobbies and post only once the whole year. Two posts, of course, makes it fair and square.
Yet another year end  - I was thinking, when young, you think of it as a new year, life was all about looking forward to new things, and now, it’s another year past, life became all about looking back and wondering. And this year sees the end of my coveted twenties status. Hardly a week and I join the thirties club. Good thing people keep postponding the aging factor.So god bless all those who say life begins at 40, I say make it 50, 60. So long as there is no burden of making most of life on me.
I usually fall in the majority who make up a whole lot of resolutions and tear it up by the end of the first day of the new year. So, this year, instead of looking forward to the future like an eager-eyed kid, as a mature thirty-ish person, I am going to look back over the past year and the loads of lessons I learnt from my learned, wise, practical and very sensible toddler. He, being a patient teacher, is generous with his lessons, but I am listing a few of them here.
  • Sleep and rest are definitely way over-rated : It’s ok for a turtle to be sluggish, it has a long life, after all how many times can you climb in and out of water displaying your amphibian-ic skills. When you have a short life span, out of which 9 months are already spent swimming in some gooey liquid, make the most of the time now. How can lazing under a blanket be fun when there are walls to be climbed, dinnerware to be broken, bathrooms to be flooded?

  • At times, it’s ok to want something which others have. There is nothing to be ashamed of in bawling your head out – the important thing is to realize no amount of screaming will bring it to you, wipe off your tears, look around, find something else in someone else’s hands and start with the bawling again
  • Recently, at a very crowded place, I had to take a very smelly diaper and the baby it wrapped to a changing room with 4-5 tables. I don’t want to be one of the mothers who think their kids are the best, but really, as far as smelly diapers go, he is a topper. While I was acutely conscious in changing him, my wise guru made v good use of the company by starting a duet with a little girl in a similar predicament in the near-by table. To each of his ta she replied with a ta-da  and vice-versa. Life stinks, but it’s nothing a little companionship can’t turn into fun
  • There is no specific place or time to do a monkey-dance be it while in a crowded shopping mall, strapped head-foot in a car seat, in the parking lot, bath tub - If the world laughs at you, it’s ok, they really need the laughter too.
  • Took him to the the happiest place on earth(read Disney World) but there’s nothing more fun than pushing his stroller, playing catch with shoes, laughing at the crying kids around – forget tickets worth thousands. Wherever you are doesn’t matter – happiest place on earth is always within you
  • An important lesson which goes into the back-burner

Any bump or bruise, however small needs parents’ magical touch. You can get on without them for a while– but sooner or later, you do need them to kiss it and make it better.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Where the head is held high...

The sound of her name being called out broke the overwhelming silence surrounding them. The constable's eyes did a quick tour of her face, disappointed, his eyes lingered below her neckline. Nothing pleasing to offer either ways.

He beckoned to her to come in. Her father got up, an old, old man.
His face, clean shaven to the core, hardly had a trace of a wrinkle and ditto his immaculately pressed attire. Probably it was his eyes which had gone old and withered.
 "This Way", the constable said, gruffly, but taking care not to be termed rude. Not until he could judge just where in the ladder they stood.  In a different world, her father would have struck the right note in anyone - people would look up to him, tone down their voice before speaking to him. But not outside the glossy walls of his office, cut out without a political or influential tie. Here, he was a non-entity, tagged as a may-be, respect would all depend on how many Gandhis would pass his hands.

The constable fondled his chin as he led them inside,
 " Sir would be along in a minute", he said, his glance already on the bench outside.
Educated and well-off people were a waste of time, usually. They would argue, question and were extremely miserly and you never know when they start questioning the methods and hint about complaints about corruption; not that it would do any good, still an annoyance. If this were any middle class father daring to come with a grown up daughter to the station, he just would need to give a once-over look to the daughter and the father would have coughed up enough and more by now. Her father counted out five crispy one hundred notes. The constable beamed at him. His look mellowed as he looked through her files and sat down. Now that he was paid, he was ready to be as genial as possible.

"It's a rape case!!!"
He exclaimed going through her files, hardly hiding the excitement from his voice.
The clerk and another police man, idly rifling through a magazine looked up in interest and were clearly debating whether to join them. Involuntarily, her look fell on her father’s face and saw the usual flinching she had got so used to over the past year.

“But she looks alright”, he said, almost accusingly, “Wasn’t she hospitalized? “

Disappointed at not getting answers, the three of them huddled over her files reading it through. They muttered among themselves for a bit before walking over to the desks. Her case wasn’t so interesting, school girl abducted, raped and dumped. There seemed to be just one culprit and she was fourteen, practically a woman and no signs of any injuries; she seemed alright, the little yellow magazine they were reading promised more thrill. 

“'It's a difficult situation”, the constable tried to start up again.

Difficult! It was a year back that life was difficult, the endless stream of lessons, the presentation she was preparing for the Science Fair, the secret plan to bunk the extra class and go for an evening movie, the crush she had on her apple cheeked classmate until he outranked her, the inexplicable island in which everyone seemed to get murdered until none remained *.

No, now life was simpler, since it got condensed in two-liner news in the newspapers. She had googled for that day’s paper and went through it a hundred times. An everyday incident hidden among gorier incidents and considering the current trend, not even a notable raise in the statistics.

The constable and the clerk were muttering together
“Nowadays girls have become very feisty, they think of themselves as boys.  Why wouldn’t this happen, they don’t understand their limitations.”

“At least she was lucky, she is alive and alright”

Yes, lucky to be a fourteen year old girl and alive – in a country where culture and society conspired to make it a man’s world, and termed it the great heritage, lest someone questions it; where, for a girl, stepping out of the house was a call to the males in the vicinity to focus on taunting, humiliating and if possible, groping her. Where it was fortunate if a girl had to put up only with that, atleast she didn’t get her interims mauled out and left to die.

And, if that did happen, either it’s because you defied the culture, went against the prescribed rules, or, you get termed a braveheart. What is brave in being attacked, tortured and killed? It’s only a proof of the pathetic state of the world, an easy way for the nation to protect its shame.

What else could be expected from the culture which sent women flocking to their husband’s pyre just so no one need be burdened of their care. And, everything can be made alright by calling them goddesses - frightened and trembling goddesses.

“They are here to file a fresh appeal to expedite the case. It’s one year, what is going to happen”.

“She won’t even remember his face”

They stood up as the sessions judge walked in.
“ Is she ready to give the statement”? He asked after going through the files.

Her father seemed to awake, “ My daughter will need to write the answers.” , “ She has not spoken in over a year”

The judge filed her statement next to a ten year old case, that of a woman disfigured by an acid attack during a marital fight.

As they drove back, she saw huge banners on the road, against female infanticide. Apparently once the nine month tenure is over and the daughter gets born, the country ensures that she gets enough chance and opportunities to help her grow, to help her future. Just stop the abortions and everything would be alright.

Her father sped up, they had to reach on time for her appointment with the therapist.

In a parallel world, she was having a shouting match with her father over a class picnic she wanted to go to.

Friday, September 7, 2012

The pea which burst forth

They told me it is tough

I thought of the tiredness, the bulging
The endless hunger
Being sick to the stomach

I thought of the sleepless nights, the hard work
The constant wailing
The chaos that would fill up my life
Yes, I knew what they were talking about

And, one day,without any warning, you come, angry and seething
I feel the sudden void in my middle

I have my body back, I am free from the bondage of so many months
Why do I suddenly feel so lonely

Has it always been so quiet there

A little blanket with a wobbling head
Squinting, sleepy head
How do I touch you without hurting you

And, you outgrow your clothes in the blink of an eye
You lift your head and bang your arms
You scream in protest, howl in delight
I am happy
But, somewhere a sense of loss floats around

Where did the little pea in my tummy go
I wonder, looking at you, my little monkey
And I feel your grandmother's eyes on me
The far-off sense of the time past
An emptiness seeps through
Rolling upto a lump somewhere in my throat

I can't but wait for each day to come
To see you grow up, for each change that comes
I can't but dread each day which is past
For how much farther it takes you from me

Yes, motherhood is tough
I know what they are talking about

Monday, August 15, 2011

Sorry we bit the apple !


Even with all the time I have now, I find self with little time on hand, what with all the meaningless browsing that I do - humor, info, stories: been there, done those . It's quite a surprise to realize that 80% of the internet jokes are on women - wives, girlfriends, daughters-in-law, no end to it. It takes less for my dozing mind to shake itself from its sleep. So, to all the guys within the age group 20-50 in my country, firstly I raise my finger, and secondly, just a few pointers hoping I can save you from some tight slaps from the women in your life...

1. On the never-ending question of What Women Want - There's been epics written about it, movies dedicated to this query, frustrated males on the point of tearing their almost non-existent hair out, asking each other this question. But I always get confused - What in the worlds are you going to do about it if you know? Absolutely nothing ! You'd just go back to your booze and sofa, shaking your heads at how stupid and silly women can be. With a few exceptions, you'd have heard enough to know she likes diamonds, chocolates and flowers. You haven't exactly been showering these on her, have you? So isn't it better to think you don't know it for the simple reason that it's of no use to you or make any teeny-meeny difference to the way you will be treating her. So get that diamond ring, get those flowers, buy those chocolates, and then get yourself back on to your comfortable chairs and hope for good dinner.

2. Kids are not our salvation - Well, I know, motherhood is all wonderful, amazing, blah blah blah. For the most part, it is. But taking care of a screaming kid 24 hours a day would hardly count as a wonderful and spiritual experience. So, when you come home in the evening, please, for the sake of her sanity, hold that kid. And, not just when you want her to prepare coffee. Yeah, you may be coming back after moving mountains at work, but stay at home and you'll realize it's more heavy a mountain. Fatherhood is not just about having your name stamped on the kids and using them as entertainment packages. Its about sharing the difficult things as well.

3. I know- that she can't cook as well as your mother does, mend as well as your mother does, nor is she as good a housekeeper as your mother is. Here's news for you- you don't take care of the home as her father does, you don't repair things around the home as he does, nor do you make her feel as precious as he did. And you don't hear her complaining, do you? She can't replace your family any more than you replace hers. And, by all means, she gave up more than you, so enough of that lost-all-freedom-through-marriage talks.

4. Your friends' wives don't always count as her best friends. So, a party at your friends' place while you loll around in the hall while she hovers in the kitchen exchanging things she may not even be interested in - doesn't exactly count as an ideal evening. And, considering, most of your friends are jerks and all their wives do is heap on a lot of grievances, not so sure you'd want her to share some of her grievances too.

5. Lounging about on the couch, watching tv while you idly sip a cup of tea might be your favorite way to spend a weekend. Let me tell you this- so is hers. This is exactly why spending weekends at your parents' place is not a good way of relaxing as far as she is concerned. Five days of paid work and two days of unpaid work, doesn't it sound amazing! Your parents are important, for sure , but so are hers and equally, at that. So long as you don't understand this, you'll be following You go to your place, I go to my place routine. Hell, even if you do understand it, you'd be better off following this.

6. It may be all the meterosexual thing going around- you gossip better, more frequently, more viciously and who better to bear the brunt than any female colleagues you may have. So, she leaves sharp at 6 which is ofcourse a federal offense. How can she do that when you come around noon, take around a ton of cigg. breaks and stay way past the office hours, making sure to send some emails to the right persons, just before leaving. After all, staying in office with all your cigg. buddies must be fun, and the free internet and coffee helps. But, when you finally decide to go back home, the hot supper you have, wonder who made it !

7. About the mood swings and crankiness - Ok, here I do admit, she may seem upset/angry/irritated for no reason at all. But, here's the deal, so would you be and much more so if you had so many hormones playing havoc inside you most of the time. Let's see you being sweet angels through cramps, aches and sores. You could blame hormones for this - but no, you really can't. Her hormones are your only chance of creating a new generation, all of them of course taking your name and having your stamp

Actually, I'm not done yet. But, just realized, I could go on and on and on and it just occurred to me - Indian men cannot be blamed really, considering the two male ideals we have. One, who'd kept 16000 + females so happy and contented and one who'd rather get people's character certificate than keep the one female in his life happy. Former is very tempting, but quite an impossible challenge, the latter, more tempting, but then who will cook the dinner. Quite confusing, really ! So, take a break from all the wife/girlfriend jokes and start thinking, if she starts, there's not going to be end to it. And, she didn't start for the simple reason that she was bustling around the house while you were thinking up all those. And, to MDH, a big thank you - firstly for understanding the pointers without me having to say those (though you could probably work on the diamonds part) and secondly, for introducing me to people who shocked me at first, and then became blog-idea for me :P

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


He closed his eyes and started breathing hard. He shot a nervous glance at his watch.

10 minutes, that's all he had before his wife would come home. He averted his eyes from the blonde head on his bed, hair fanned out on the pillow, the wide open eyes staring accusedly at him. It was amazing how she had him at her will, making him do her bididng.

10 minutes- Not enough time to make anything right, Not even enough to think up any explanation for any of it.

Explanation! he looked at the knot the sheets had gotten into, the sticky pool on the floor, spreading stains tile by tile, torn curtains, What demon could have possessed him that erased every single ounce of sense from his mind. No..Today there was no escape for him. He was doomed.

Sweat trickled down his brow as he heard the sound of the gate being swung open. Hardly 5 minutes. No time to hide her anywhere.

It was all over, he thought as he felt soft hands caressing his cheeks. He opened his eyes, he was awed at how she still took his breath away each time he laid his eyes upon her, even with her tousled hair and dirty PJs.

She climbed atop him and burrowed her face in his neck.At that moment, he could have done anything in the world for her. 'Are we in too much trouble', her voice was a faint whisper, but he couldn't sense any worry over there. She knew it would be him who'll face his wife's wrath.

He took a deep breath as he looked at the severed barbie head on the bed and turned to his daughter. 'Yes sweetie, Mommie's going to be very angry at all this', he inhaled her sweet baby scent.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

A Dark Tale...

The car behind had to honk thrice to get her attention. She skipped out of the way attempting an apologetic smile at the irate driver and his raised up finger. Nothing could affect her mood today. However, she hardly had any intention of getting flattened on the road. I can be as happy on the stinking, littered sidewalk as in the cluttered noisy highway.
Her stomach gave a deep rumble, she almost laughed out loud. In the excitement that day, she had forgotten that she had not had a single bite the whole day. Long, stretching day, with umpteen interviews intermittently nervous and ecstastic till she finally heard the magic words. It would be difficult to move out and go to a strange city , to be away from her family for the first time, but it was hard to be down when she was feeling so happy. And ofcourse, think of all the guys, nah, they would just be geeks. She couldnt help smiling around. It seemed to be getting darker. She fastened her pace, she didnt want to get congratulated and scolded for being late on the same day.

It was not the first time that he was seeing her. But it was the first time that he noticed a glow which made it through somehow,probably through her eyes or the way she walked, which was almost a dance. He knew where she lived, he had followed her once before he realised what he was doing. He had stopped himself in time, he didnt want to run into trouble again. Lately he had found himself thinking about her more and more and he found it annoying.
The last time he had felt so was when he suspected the presence of a mouse in his room although it never showed itself , he stayed awake for three nights in a row. He felt excitement bubbling up inside, remembering its fear and frantic attempts that night, till finally he killed it. He had had hell to pay the next day trying to explain away the mess his room was in, but he still relished the day. He picked up his rod and started following her.
The strange tightening he felt inside would soon break out into screams, he fastened his pace to match hers, clamping hands over his mouth trying to contain the quick pants escaping from him.

She was thrown out of reverie by the huffling footsteps behind her. Her heart started pounding loudly. Dont look back, she thought to herself as she tried to take longer strides, almost breaking out into a run.

Almost there, he crooned to himself, as he tightened his grip and raised his rod.

A loud yelp made her turn back, she saw a grey bearded guy with a metal rod in his hand, hitting a stray dog while it wriggled into a hole and escaped. He let out a loud howl of disappointment.

She shrugged and rushed in to break her big news to her family...