In the name of life

I danced the night away. Clinkering glasses of wine and spirits added to the rhythm of the night. We bathed on dance floor in colours of celebrations painted over our moods- blue and battered from weekdays of struggle at work. Escaping from an earful by the boss, parents and loved ones, our refuge was perfect only until on my way back I saw a man with his son, dressed in pristine white unapologetically sleeping on a park bench.

Skies began crying. It poured in streams and not droplets as if Mother Nature finally had turned teary eyed without any sobs or sound. Maybe she was not in mood to be consoled

They ran for shelter while I rolled up windows of my cab. The little one clutched big hands and tried to shake sleep off his eyes. Dreams were not meant for him. It was in harsh waking truths that his life was to shape up. I don’t know why but i stopped the vehicle near them. The man was apprehensive till I showed my press badge and asked if everything is alright. He asked me to watch over his son till he fetches his stuff he left behind near the bench and I nodded silently asking him to cover his head with a newspaper I had in my bag. As he moved some metres away with fast sogging offering that I had given him, cabbie asked the boy what they were doing there at this hour. The boy looked up and turned towards the man and just to let us know that if he tells us as the man would be angry.

Considering it a kidnap or some such shady business, I probed further and prompted the boy to speak up if there is anything wrong. I told him sleeping in park is illegal and police officers would be happy to get them moving if I complained.
At my attempt, looking down he muttered unapologetically that there is no need. Their landlord had thrown them out and his father – the man that he was with had no money, so they were waiting for the temple doors to open in the morning. By the time, he finished a few more details about where they lived and the tea stall that they had nearby, the October rain stopped, and father returned. I offered them a lift if they wanted to go anywhere and he refused. After which I asked the cabbie to move from there.

Yes, I was smashed yet, not with the drinks but with my own view of life
There might be many 8 year olds in this world calling sky their home, a few supporting their parents in daily struggle without knowing the role that they play. That kid for me is answer to my prayers for guidance about my life. I could never pray specifically and always asked god to show me the answers as i move ahead in journey of life. Today was a landmark, a reason to celebrate as true reverence and faith had met me in person. They were contained in a small frame with a smaller mind, big eyes and bigger questions but yes the child and his self respect was bigger as he never asked for money which a child would normally and easily in this situation and stood being half drenched with rains instead of seeking convenient comfort from helpful strangers.

His determination shone in his eyes to move ahead and change the situation without being apologetic and to face the life like his father who did not expect this young life to seek help elsewhere. I remembered my maid who helps my landlady run her household in clockwork precision keeping my mind off the trivialities. Also about the watchman who guards my home 24x7 with his meagre pay, the rickshaw drivers who have left me at my correct destination when I did not have a clue and strangers who were hardworking poor people without begrudging their challenges in life.

On the other hand, I had my day job, the deadlines that I was ready to crib about, and my humble abode which lacked the best paintjob i desired. I realised at that moment the easy route of self pitying behaviour prevalent in the queer community of my city. There are challenges that lie ahead of us – social acceptance, section 377, fear and misunderstandings at every junction of our lives.

I asked myself while climbing the stairs towards my home when I visit the parties and hang out with friends or date, what is the void that needs to be filled? It is the spark of determination that the kid had. His acceptance of his realities and will to support his dear ones through it rather than an easy rebellion route or self-pity can guide each one of us.

I was sleepy and ready to enter the realm of dreams. The ones that showed the blue print of change required in our attitudes. The brighter, better tomorrow where each one of us brings to the fore – our unique views and creates value rather than spilling over petty issues of sexual compatibility with the cruisers at a particular location.

I guess it is these experiences that are humbling and for which Billy Joel wrote River of dreams which I am ready to enter blissfully

Lights, Rights and Fights of a Suburban Life

21 grams is the exact weight you lose from your body when you stop breathing; rather living and reduce to a mere body; rather corpse. Is that the weight of human life?

That's a question posed by a movie, which I saw a few years back. I remember very little about the movie but this question has remained at back of my head ever since. I have got answers to it partially time and again but the complete picture I guess will emerge only in final years of my life or at least I hope so.

I am writing today after long as amidst a usual day full of struggles to reach work on time, meeting client deadlines, work handed down by boss, catching up with friends over phone or in person as something unusual happened and I asked this again

We had just finished our dinner rather left it in between and walked out after finding a family of roaches resting in the bread basket of a famous mughlai restaurant not far from my home (we didn't pay them a dime of course). A minute after expressing my disapproval over my NRI friend's holier than thou views about India and its need to improve spurred by the dinner incident that a speeding truck brushed past him pretty close and parked a minute ahead.

I don't know what got into me and I rushed to the truck instead of my friend leaving him with another colleague who he has never met before in his life. I stood in front of the giant vehicle and began yelling full blast at the driver on the deserted road well past midnight. The guy who was definitely under the influence of alcohol, was looking amused at my act as my friend had no visible injuries and he wasn't the one who was making the noise.

I did not hit the man and began making him understand where his fault lies. He had not honked or blinked his lights and was oblivious to the fact that in his steep turn he has not made his super close parking but nearly hit someone who was saved by a microsecond by my colleague who pulled my friend very briefly from a larger harm.

For a person like me who follows a philosophy aiming at world peace - Nicherin Daishonin's Buddhism , this would seemingly be contradictory to his beliefs. it is not so in fact. I made a scene and noise enough to gather an audience of 5-6 people including two rickshaw guys and snatched the driver's ringing phone which he was more focused on. He was non-chalant about the whole episode and was standing proudly with his arm stretched over the bonnet of this large automobile.

I flung at him all that he could do in any such situations and reacted to each of his arguments about not knowing Hindi, which he was surprisingly saying in Hindi. He followed it up with his attempt to play the local Marathi language card, which was again busted as I am conversant and fluent in the language. This was followed by his over the top claim that he would pay 10 - 12 thousand rupees whatever the cost of medical damage and come to police station with me after calling his boss.

I refused to budge over his half hearted sorry mumbled with no remorse what so ever. He was more worried about delay in dumping of goods that he had been carrying for the night. My anger was mounting by the minute and I was now manhandling him to get into a rickshaw and at the same time asking him if he has realised what he has done to which he retorted with a very desi "it happens" statement. That nailed it and I stopped right there and began again on twice my earlier voice. It wasn't just his mistake but more so his attitude that made me aggressive. I was downright close enough looking at him in the eye, inches from his face and hurling away to glory about his attitude. My problem was with his excuses, which were coming by the minute and piling up.

The man was not yet convinced of his mistake and the spectators began butting in trying to take my side and every time I said I would have hit him but I want him not to do something like this again, he gave me " don’t make a issue where there is none, your friend is alive" look.

I refused to relent till I hear the man admit and realise the impact of his action rather than cocky, half hearted apologies which were coming few and far in between his arguments of how honking horn would have irritated us who were from rich families and so he did not do it before turning the truck. The driver had to apologise since I gave him no other option.

He came up with a “Are you hurt?” and I looked back sharply. I saw my friend who was hurt and was now tired as he saw no point in continuing and the other one who was just waiting for me to begin hitting this man

As much as I yelled, the crowd nearby agreed and supported me by talking to the driver about what I was saying a while back i.e. his options like honking the horn or applying brake or blinking lights during the turn. I let him go but informed him about how he has to change and learn to accept his mistakes or else him and his truck would never have a good effect back and would end up leading a very sorry life as it took him good 20 minutes, public reactions and my refusal to hand his phone to him which he wanted badly. By the looks of it, he was more concerned about his calls rather than the human life that we were talking about.

It was then I handed him back his cell phone and told the guy that I wish that he changes his ways or else what has been averted today would happen and when his family runs around to get him out of jail, his boss – the contractor he was calling would actually make him realise what he has not.

We left and walked ahead to cool our heads with a drink of coffee we were originally seeking but decided to go to our respective homes instead.

Any other person would say that our day had ended on not so good note but I differ, all that happened reassured me to carry on my quest to find my answer. What is the actual weight of life? How much does it matter? How do we instil this knowledge of holding our lives as treasures of hope, dreams, love and everything there is to being alive? How do we make humans more humane?

I smoked thoughtlessly , walking towards my home which is close by and realised that I have to find out the way of talking to each of these truck drivers from within my boss, my friends, my family, my city, my country, the world and within myself. The dialogue has to continue. My task does not end at confrontation. My task is to continue holding the knowledge that human life is precious and to convert it into wisdom into my sphere of work. I have to insure my events, not to overlook the fire norms or medical attention for cost cutting. I have to stop compromising rather neglecting the voice within.

It is me who gives life its weight, its meaning. It is me who makes it what its worth. It’s us who chose with our daily lives every moment whether our 21 grams would be used to awaken the struggle to give living its dignity, it’s worth by keeping the human life at the forefront of whatever we do.

I have my answer now and assure you that I would do my best to make my 21 grams of life worth it.

Fashion - good, bad and ugly sides of reel life and real

I would like to begin with a spoiler alert for all those who haven't seen the film, this write up may reveal too much or affect your opinions. please proceed only if you comply with the consequences

Fashion is made up of stellar performances,inconsistent direction, fewer gripping moments,fewer scenes where editor was awake, good dialogues, better cinematography supported by presence of more glamorous names than i can count on my fingers and toes, functional music, okayish supporting cast, a non existent script, completely predictable story, glossed up production design after a long time surprisingly by Nitin Desai and 3 hours of endless Priyanka Chopra. It left me with mix feelings like a man who has been teased but not been laid. It showed promise, it delivered at intervals but all of it at a pace so slow and in such a predictable 'fashion' that anyone would suffer from

The problem with Fashion is it tries to fit in too much and in the process doesn't communicate one single message to its viewers effectively like the director's earlier movies. I have silently maintained a grudge against the director of this movie for a long time. I like to believe that all his earlier subjects - Chandni bar, Satta, Page 3 and Corporate ( excluding his offerings like Trishakti, Aan and Traffic signal) were dealt in a focused single dimensional manner. Constant hellish depiction and misery, unhappiness and suffering in all his movies left a bitter taste in audience mind making them supposedly hard hitting. They all had an underlying message for the masses saying all that is glamourous is hollow, short lived, ends up horrid and wanted them to thank their stars if they are not exceptionally rich, famous or good looking cos that would surely be a bad news as his realistic movies show.Thats probably the reason they were successful cos they gave the audience what they want - a feel good factor that our lives are better than all those people's who we think have advantages over us.

I believe Fashion provides redemption to him in this department. We see a positive side of the coin as well even though it comes too late in the story and drags like rest of the movie. The protagonist emerges out of her hellish life but you have had enough of fashion by then like a dark chocolate cake you cannot get yourself to finish the last morsel of.

None of the scenes in Fashion create an impact to do justice enough to the scope of the story, camera work, performances, look & scale of the film. In spite of all this panning, its a brave effort, refreshing in look, evolved in sensibility, flawed like most bollywood projects but heads and shoulders above ordinary or average stuff that you see. Priyanka Chopra gets a major credit for it as she gets into skin of her character's every mannerism, her hesitations, ambitions, heart breaks, self loathing, a la lady macbeth. I say that in spite of hating all the cliches like a pansy make up artist being bullied, supermodel dying of drug overdose, lingerie photo shoot that our lead does not want to do, adultery that she regrets after a while, so on and so forth, I give Fashion 7.5 on 10. Its the 25 % that they didnt get right that bothers me ;)

Girls amongst the crew are smartest in this movie with Priyanka delivering her best performance till date, Kangana being as effective as always but wasted majorly with a small role and Mugdha Godse being fresh as a daisy, confident enough for most people not to notice that this is her debut. Boys prove to lag behind but Sameer Soni, Harsh Chaya deliver substance and dignity to their small roles as gay designers. Arjun bajwa has a good delivery only in one break up scene before interval. Arbaaz is effective in some scenes and completely funny faced in others as a corporate head honcho of India's top model management firm whose full time occupation seems lusting over his models and seducing them.

Coming to the real life element of the movie, all the inspirations for wardrobe malfunctioning, rehab of gitanjali, arrogance of Shivani Kapoor on being selected as face of Lakme and then having an attitude and drug problem, faces from page 3 like Nisha Jaamwval, Suchitra, Prahlad Kakkar, Shane and Falgooni Peacock, Karan Johar, Narendra Ahmed, Atul Kasbekar etc etc. might not even be registered by large part of audience but they yet add to authenticity of the movie. At the same time these real factors make the movie predictable and boring. I hope people realise while seeing this movie that fashion industry like evry other is made up of good, bad and the ugly, its cause and effect like every where else, so they must not see the reckless behaviour and form opinions rather observe that success, arrogance, compromise on ethics and other such causes bring drastic effects but the moment you chose back the right causes, there opens a way for anew destination.

This review cant end without mention of all my friends and acquaintances who have worked on this project- Suchita for VFX, Daman as Salim, Shruti who has rendered Mar jawaan song soul fully, Dilshad who has helped in Make up, Anuradha Tewari who has helped in story, screenplay and dialogues and all the others whose names i missed while rushing out of theatre... lemme know what you all think of the movie ;)

Back from the 3rd gear lane of life

It was a moment that made me change the speed of my life... the momentum of my being. Nearly a year back, I packed my bags from the slow lane of being just an event conceptualiser and a freelance writer to be more. I didn’t exactly know what more was and how much more I could be but handling additional responsibility of being a business development and client servicing person along with the ideator/ writer seemed like a correct direction. Just like all visions and dreams, this too needed me to replace and redirect all I had for getting where I wanted to be with a faint promise of being happier when I get there. After many events, promotions, pitches, nights of staying back at work, losing cell phones, developing one sleeping disorder and numerous cavities, adding reckless partying and vacationing to my leisure choices, putting up with clients who are either impossible or insane, it seems more can never be enough for us humans.

I had jumped on to the rollercoaster ride for thrills, expecting the change from the mundane, knowing that the time that it lasts, I will have to put up my brave face. I will have to give it my all – courage, alertness, alternative reflexes as per my comfort at times and as the moment requires at others. I am writing after forever. Not that endless number of presentations, proposals, half hearted drafts of scripts that some producer wanted me to write, some dialogues for a veteran dance guru’s own show on television teaching Indians how to dance, didn’t count... just that for me that was auto pilot.

It was my need for money writing some of those and need to stay on the job doing a few, a desire to prove myself to the colleagues and superiors pulling off some smart cocktail documents which tasted nice to them. I went by their guts, sold it on prices that I feel suit it, and stretched myself to be able to pull off a series of seemingly impossible manoeuvres one after another, consistently.

Sometimes, I was crowned amidst thundering sound of applause and at others leashed like a slave with some choicest abuses echoing in the air. It is only last week when for 3 days I could pause my life and stopped filling my overflowing platter of activities planned or unplanned. I could look back at like this diwali and finally put a finger on what was decreasing throughout the period of increased fame, power, capabilities, social network, collection of books, DVDs, clothes and friends.
It dawned on me this week that my exhaustion has reached its peak as I chose fear and insecurities to fuel my speed more than love and trust. The more I venture further towards my dreams in this manner, the more I will be uncomfortable. I know now that it isn’t only about reaching the destination fastest, it is about the quality. No matter how much I cherish the childlike wish of growing up as soon as I can and doing all that I want just today, it won’t be worth it. I have to make a choice. I have to let go of some dreams and chose the ones that give me a better journey – a more fulfilled life with chances to blog a few times every week. The one in which, when I decide to write a story, it would not be because a TV channel wants me to pitch for their next big show. It might be just because a story needs to be told. The one in which bank balance isn’t the only measure for success in life.

I am back today. I say that not because I have quit being in my job. I am a project leader now- a senior resource in a niche venture of a global giant. My income has nearly doubled on paper and so has my credit. Last year, I was in my late twenties trying to find a suitable master’s degree as my Post graduate diploma didn’t seem impressive enough to me. This year, I am nearer to thirties and find my patience with the wannabes missing when I enter a classroom now to teach as a guest faculty. My friends are matchmaking me to ugly guys who I dread to call but my faith remains that with a tiny fix in my head, I can surely reach my zenith of a happy, fulfilled life by changing gears and shifting lanes again. It’s only about keeping time, love and tenderness before everything.

My struggle continues but the realisation has seeped in. Recklessness has to be balanced with responsibility with a moment of care, of getting off the Ferris wheel of complications and taking refuge in a quiet dawn by the sea peering at the sun smiling on the faces of friends who were there by my side through this madness.

To love or not to love (It was love part 3 - Finale)

“Long time! God, just look at yourself” he said.

I couldn’t decipher whether he meant it in a good way or bad. Breaking away from embrace I looked at him in the eyes and was sure that he wanted just to express how good it was to see me finally. It wasn’t about me turning skinnier or fat (our heated debates about my unhealthy lifestyle and eating habits were the last thing on my list when I planned this impromptu trip).

Lost in my thoughts I could just respond to him to begin the conversation but impatience got better of me.“How have you been?” was all that I could come up with. The devil within me was chortling at the irony. The most romantic gesture of my lifetime just went kaput due to a meek pick up line but who has ever required to impress his / her soul mate.

We moved quickly from the lobby to his room, which was warmly lit and cosy, surprisingly arranged like his bedroom (in what used to be our home in Bangalore). Since we both were ending our days, after small talk about the journey, return time and the wait I have had, we began settling on the couch. I headed for a shower while he decided to speak to his sister and mom, who would be excited about the outcome of his soiree.

I could overhear him talk anxiously about her parents and their thoughts about this matrimony. Amidst water jets and the gushing sounds, I drowned my regrets of him being with her in his thoughts even now. I cleansed myself of the insecurities of sharing him tonight with S in spite of her absence by lathering my aroma therapy body wash generously on my small form.

I stepped out fresh and dressed in shorts to find him changed into his nightwear much like our nights back at Bangalore. He had finished his conversation and was surfing channels trying to find some cartoons as he always liked. I walked past him, opened the window and lit up a cigarette overlooking the poolside soaking in the serene view in spite of the noise of television. As per my habit, next step would be turning on mellow music and sitting for a long conversation but I did not act on my impulse to do so but invited him to join me in looking up and playing join the dots with stars in the sky.

He invited me in return to sit next to him on the bed with a pat on the mattress and I went almost without a thought to be by his side on the white giant only to ask him about food, which he had of course had but I had avoided on the flight due to my restlessness. He opened the fridge, handed me the nuts kept on top of it knowing my fondness for salted cashew nuts and asked me “I don’t have vodka here but beer. Would you have it or want me to order vodka for you in spite of your early flight in case you intend missing it”

His cheeky remark made me loosen up and I reverted with “You are like one of those stingy hosts!” He mumbled “Buddhu Bachcha” – his nickname for me, which I hadn’t heard forever. At that very moment, I moved past all my fears that anyone can ever take away from us what we share – our bond, our friendship, our chemistry and our love.

We sipped our drinks and spoke of our lives and plans ahead facing each other on the bed for the next hour or so obviously knowing that the clock was ticking and our time together was reducing with every movement of its hands.

I was tired from whole day’s work and by now was resting with a pillow below my legs and one behind my back when he moved and placed himself instead of the pillow behind me. Soon we were pressed against each other and it happened. We kissed. An electric bolt ran up my spine by surreal nature of this moment. I had wanted it to happen ever since we broke up or rather from the time I had left him behind at Bangalore before he moved back to States a few years back. None of my kisses ever since were as true as this one. It was happening now and I was kind of numb with disbelief till I snapped out and showered him with all I had in store for him.

I did not want to waste a moment in sleeping this night but my body didn’t permit. I woke up so many times in the night just to feel him lying next to me, his warmth, his eyes and his body were all mine for the last time unless life had saved any of its miracles to get us back together. But wasn’t this a miracle. I was celebrating life and all it has to offer without regret. I kissed his forehead while he was asleep and said I love you in his sleeping ears, hugged him and went back to sleep only to wake up in morning and find him ready.

He couldn’t come to leave me to airport but this time the hotel car was waiting for me. He had called for it thoughtfully- one of his traits that I just adored was that surprises and gifts run naturally in his system. In the next 15 minutes of repacking and giving 100 advices for him to take care, I embraced him a few times but surprisingly there was no longing or pain of final farewell. He walked me to the car. I bid him goodbye and smiled my way to the airport and in flight. Sun was shining more brightly than yesterday somehow and I was listening to ‘Someday’ by MLTR on the iPod he had gifted. Suddenly I got goose bumps and my heart swelled with joy of the knowledge that I had something no one can ever snatch or threaten, something beyond the control of whole universe and its forces – my love and ability to decide to love or not to love. Thankfully I had decided in favour of it and stuck by its results and its end. Would I love again? Well, for sure, yes.

Love and last night (It was love part 2)

"Come here! We will find you a hotel" yelled the rickshaw drivers outside Hyderabad Airport as soon as they saw me. It was 10 pm, supposedly an unearthly hour for an Indian small town but the presence of these gentlemen in big numbers told the story of this town being ahead of many a metro we don’t look beyond.

I knew my destination but did not know the way to get there. All I could think about was the end i.e. meeting him after forever and maybe for the final time. Soon I bargained like a citizen of Telangana region and rattled all the names of landmarks and vicinities that R had sent in his email guiding me how to get to his hotel.

My heart was beating fast and my mind swung between why I had agreed on this trip which was completely insane and all the insecurities I had conducted for an abstract four letter emotion called love. I knew that right at this moment, he was away at dinner with the family of a girl he had chosen to be his life partner. Somehow I was devoid of even thinking how much I had longed to meet his family especially his mother who he compared with me day in and day out when we were together.

It didn’t matter anymore. I was soaked in his fears of not being accepted, of not getting what he seeks from the depths of his heart and of not finding a way out of a life he leads into a life he desires. I didn’t know how and I yet don’t know when the realisation had seeped in that I cannot be happy unless he is.

I was soaked in his fears of not being accepted, of not getting what he seeks from the depths of his heart and of not finding a way out of a he life he leads into a life he desires. I stopped the driver at a medical store, bought a deo and somehow found myself for the first time in life asking for a packet of condoms. It wasn’t as if I was readying myself for the big night of romping, when I had exactly 8 hours to spend with him apart from the to and fro from the airport

It was a sheer wish to be with him in every possible way this last time that made me pass a chasm of my self imposed taboo and lines that I had drawn throughout our relationship. All of it had past its validity date and reasons

I reached the hotel before he was back in his room and thus I was early by a good 30 minutes for him to end one of his most crucial evenings and for me to see him. The time passed under the gaze of a receptionist who saw me casually dressed and cherubic faced at one of the top business hotels of Asia. She was curious of course about the nature of my visit but couldn’t afford to ask.

Browsing through the pages of ‘Brothers Karamazov' and praying for everything to go well, I passed, minutes by repeatedly glancing at my watch and listening to songs on an ipod, which he had gifted me years back and which I hadn’t separated from myself even for a day.

Anxiety got better of me as I couldn’t even call him to check and risk putting him in a spot. Our meeting had turned clandestine and we were now in rendezvous of different sorts from our earlier affair. I walked out and decided to take a quick look at the hotel premises only to find myself seeing every car that came with the hope of his arrival.

After a while and when the car count reached about a dozen, he arrived with his future family. I was far but could make out that he was extremely happy with the force in his handshake with the girl's father and the vigour of his farewell wave of hands to say goodbye to the girl's brother.

Somehow I couldn’t see the one who was now supposed to play my part in his life. They left and I found myself impressed by his preparations to impress with a black dinner jacket and formal trousers et al. something very rare that he would reserve for do-or-die affairs.

I was glad he was giving his all to this relationship. I found myself surrounded by a strange contentment with this knowledge. He was proceeding fast towards lifelong happiness rather companionship from the looks of it. I was satisfied looking at him taking that leap, driving an extra mile without begrudging anything or maybe it was just the discovery of that peaceful space within me where I buried my restlessness and anxieties springing from not seeing him for a long time but wanting to do so all this while.

I was almost hidden by the plants standing as just an anonymous silhouette in the dark night. What I saw was his happily ever after without me in it. This made me more conscious of the awkwardness of the situation I was in.

I didn’t know for the first time what to say to him. I didn’t have to. He turned to me in spite of his future in laws being within the sight. He walked towards me with his million dollar smile while I was melting from within from the heat of various thoughts running in my head and a rush of blood to my heart having seen him finally and of course the hot June breeze of the Deccan plateau.

He embraced me tight and more than being glad that he did so, I wanted him to ensure that his future life partner wouldn’t see us. It would be really awful if any of his desires got ruined because of me or us. In a minute after the Reddy family had disappeared into countless patches of green surrounding the hotel, his grip hadn’t loosened and I found myself responding.

I clutched him right under the gaze of receptionist and the doorman who had been observing me for a while continuously trying to figure the story. I closed my eyes and did not want to open them ever again. This was my moment. This was my love and its last night

(To be continued in next part)

A lot happened over a coffee...

This is a graphic representation of an evening where one of my closest friends S was in war mode with F over the movie Jodhaa Akbar's review. I have tried to recreate the proceedings with my inputs as i was a silent spectator to the interesting scenes


Accompanying Snap: Scene 1: S decides that since we are criticising the movie, he would spend his time in a cafe with us designing a website for his workplace. Flared nostrils and arched eye brows tell the story of his disapproval on our accusations that the war action sequences in the movie were carefully lifted from Troy and were the best part about the movie. Much to his chagrin, the uncomfortable and awkward positioning along with swollen air filled cheeks help him stay quiet over his decision that movie was perfect and our unnecessary critical overview of the same was
an attempt to spoil his fun as he basked in radiance of satisfaction having feasted his eyes on some pretty costumed and otherwise sights of the film.



Accompanying Snap- Scene 2:
F decides to invoke more by sharing her expert views on how casting Aishwarya as the Rajput princess worked due to her waxed expressionless face, which is perceived as the proud augustine look and elegance when it is stiffness and inability to express in real. She is not unmotivated by the development of S retracting back into his shell even in our presence as she thinks continuing a bit more would force him to react and finally resurrect him for the evening



Accompanying Snap- Scene 3:
Its time for S to ponder deeply about his decision to keep shut when his dislike and need to stop this blasphemy far exceeds the results achieved by the so called dignified silent stand. He tries to look further engrossed in the website but his face says it all that he is searching for a repartee to shut us up while keeping it visibly separate from the topic of movie as he would like to appear to be considerate on everyone's free will





Accompanying Snap- Scene 4:
F seems content with the fact that S has already begun to think of breaking his self imposed spell of Silence. She is waiting for his shell to break open and for him to openly admit and say that he does not want us to discuss the movie. She looks at me meaningfully as if she wants to communicate her next move via telepathy. But as they say you can take an employee out of call centre but you cannot take call centre out of the employee, she went in for the cliche..



Accompanying Snap- Scene 5:

Knowing S's soft spot for technology and his geek-hearted existence, F decides to flaunt her collection of images, video and music stored carefully on a call centre employee's most crucial device i.e. Phone. Her expression is a mix of pride for this brilliant move and the resources to pull it off. She knows she is winning and somewhere down the line, movie and its review has gone for a toss and now it is about whether or not she can crack the da-S code.



Accompanying Snap - Scene 6:

S on the other hand is slightly amused looking at the extent of attention his small act of indifference can get him. Feeling good about the attempts F is making to win him over, he breaks out into a gradual sideways elevation of his lips and finally smiles as if just to say that okie, even if you did not like the movie and I would not like to hear about it, we remain together, its okay. He wastes no time and begins his favourite act of friendly sharing and caring i.e. bluetooth swap of data.

Finale:
The big dark cloud of melancholy has bursted and war a-la- jodhaa akbar is resolved without even a single dialogue.. only if Ashutosh Gowariker had witnessed this epic coffee session

, he would have casted them to play the loggerhead lovers on screen in reel life as they appear in real life. And if we decide to chronicle this evening nostalgically into a movie, the end credits would roll on the backdrop of F's glorious smile of contentment, friendship and victory. Although, we didnt begin this friendship fairy tale with once upon a time, i am tempted to leave it at ... and they lived happily ever after.

It was Love (part 1)

It was love. It didn’t seem like it on day one but yes it still was. This series is narrative of my most cherished relationship. Hope you like it

My phone rang at 2 am and I stretched my hands to pick it unwillingly, just to avoid the noise. As I answered the phone, the voice on other end said Hi love, Rohit here. It took me a whole minute to realise it was indeed him on the other side. All I could remember now was that we were in our off phone calls phase , which was a regular feature after our break up a few years back and that he was breaking the ice with this call.

He was in India. He sounded excited and I on the other hand was struggling to make sense out of my words and sound sane. I realized Hyderabad was not exactly the city where he would find friends to talk to at this hour and no one from Bangalore - his native town in India would speak about what he wanted to discuss. He was visiting to ask for hand of his lady love in marriage.

Last time we spoke, he was at his scared little school boy routine fearing the outcome of her family knowing he has one false eye, which only a few people in this world knew including me. It was a big deal when talking of marriage as though him being North Indian was not enough to put them off. I remember when he told me the first time about it lying in bed by my side, all i thought was It doesn't change you one bit for me. Why should my love for you change if you have one false eye? Well, I have a false tooth cap over my cavity on left side of my jaw. Don't punish yourself love by thinking it makes you any less than anyone.

But I guess I couldn't tell him now what I thought and I had to make do with some statements about him being more than his physical self and a properly functioning body, its the mind and the heart that matter equally. I geared up for my agony aunt type counselling session inspite of my sleepy state and told him that he need not worry as he was perfectly loveable. I told him that his actions bore testimony of what he had for her in his head and his heart.

There I was talking to my most cherished lover encouraging him to jump to the other side of fence because I knew what family and the girl meant to him. It's not like it didn't hurt me but I was immune by now. Being with him on our roller coaster relationship, I had to be stronger as the moment required it.

He proceeded to mention that it is the first time that he is putting all that he has on stake including his big ego. Traveling from US for a girl was something unthinkable when in his 3 year relationship with me he had visited Mumbai only twice for weekends, when we had been as close as heartbeats through that time. I knew it was difficult for him in the face of his friends boycotting him due to his expression of interest in a girl and his willingness to begin a traditional family after years of alternative lifestyle. They saw it as a criminally convenient route that most Indian gay men take.

None of them had any idea, how Rohit had always been the kind who learns from experience and trying to fulfill all his dreams was the only way to go for him. He never believed in gay relationships and was happy with just one night stands till we struck a chord. Now he was ready for the next change. They weren't. I was not sure if I was but knew it nonetheless that I would break his heart into million pieces if I stood along with the world holding him guilty for his pursuit of happiness.

What we spoke for rest of an hour is blurred in my memory but I remember we weren't ready to keep phones even after an hour of sharing updates on lives, what we dislike in ways we react to people, situations and moreover what we see right in each other's lives. Somehow our conversation wandered from him and me to us. We had not seen each other for many years now and needed healing from all the burns of our break up which hadn't yet been fully cured. Ever since we had ended up fighting on phone, chats and emails every time except this conversation tonight. He took a pause and said I miss you and hearing it made me melt within and jump at the same time and I replied I miss you too honey.

With our near choked voices, we were fumbling to express our desire of seeing each other just once and when we did, I thought that its silly to think of meeting him now and like this. Every time my inner voice said no to his insistence of my traveling to Hyderabad to meet him for the last time, I felt guilty for denying myself an opportunity i had been waiting for. In middle of his offer to pay for one side of airfare and my pleas of not being in any state to bunk work that morning, he suggested that I take the evening flight after work and offered to book tickets online right now.

I knew that now was the moment to end the call, I promised to try and see ticket availability and to inform him over email about the schedule since he was not carrying his US cellphone and leaving a message in his room would not be a great idea in his absence. After saying goodbye and cutting the phone, I asked myself if he deserves this and got a reply that I deserve to see my love after so many years.

I took the evening flight and landed in a city where I had never been. While I was trying to find his hotel that I had never seen on roads I did not know , I realised the reason for this quest. I knew once again that this is love.

(to be continued)

तपीश

सर्द सी धुप में तेरे जीसम की तपीश हो,
और हो साए आसमान के सरपरस्त,
दील में येक सुर गूंजें सुकून का
और खामोशी जुबान पे तराने से बीखेर जाये
पहलू में तेरे दीं डाले और वक्त हो तारों के जागने का
अंधेरों में महसूस हो तेरी छुअन के नर्म साए
आरजू यह खूबसूरत ख़्वाब है अब तक तो
क्या खबर कल हक़ीक़त बने गर तेरी भी ये हसरत हो

Nostalgic nights

Holding your hands and walking in the clouds,
my days were full of joy, so full of you.

Soaring in the sky with wings of your dreams,
My moments flew in vivid nights, our nights

Listening to your heartbeat, a rhythm so pure
I was touched by an angel, not fallen of course

Thinking of your ways and sweet smiles,
My blues just vanished as you filled my space, my horizons

As you open a new chapter of your heart each time,
I believe we met cos we were destined to

Treasuring togetherness, a boon of your presence,
My life seems now more complete, sculpted to perfection and blessed by him

एक और कारवां

साँसों के कारवाँ कुछ देर पहले गुज़र गए

साथ चल देता मैं भी लेकीन लम्हें आगे बढ़ गए

रफ़्तार वक़्त की थमती कभी है नहीं

तनहाइयों में भी हमें हुम्साये दीखते हर कहीँ

कुछ रवानगी कीस्मत की है और शायद मुकाद्दर है मेहरबान

दीदार यार का ही है देखता हूँ मैं जहाँ

2007 - a year of inspirations for bollywood

Mumbai is the city of dreams and dreamers. Please pardon my sweeping generalisation when i categorise all the dreamers in two categories i.e. those who follow cricket faithfully and those for whom movies are a religion.

Since last century Indian cinema's hub Mumbai has seen and witnessed quite a few milestones but this year has been quite a memorable one with creative juices flowing from the studios and production houses to outdo one another. The race here isn't necessarily with Hollywood but surely inspirations come from those quarters quite frequently.

2007 has seen many movies paying tribute to their inspirations and the inspired directors have come up aces with some memorable cinematic moments which are clearly their own creative self expression.. they have blended flavours, moods, sounds and more from their sources. For the lack of space and time I will just take you through just a few of such works.

The year started on a high note with arguably one of the best products from Mani Ratnam - Guru. The movie had hottest stars and was based upon life of most incredibly famous industrialist. If you think he was inspired by Abhi Ash chemistry or values that Dhirubhai Ambani followed, i would ask you to strain harder and think again. Guru was Mani Ratnam's reply to all his critics in his true hall mark way. He assembled many elements from his own movies and came up with this super product. He took the biopic structure of Nayakan, where in the lead protagonist just doesn't have a rags to riches story but great integrity, hardships and heroics to stand heads and shoulders above others. He took the Roja's angst ridden love-hate chemistry in early marriage parts of Abhishek and Aishwarya and turned it around to deep bond between the couple as in Bombay. Vidya Balan's chirpy wheelchair handicap was his favourite Anjali mixture of innocence and pain. The look of tere bina and the location reminded of Bombay's kehna hi kya & Mallika Sherawat's Maiyya Maiyya was a tribute to humma humma completely with red outfit et al. We can get into screenplay structure which he has devised by taking the reigns in his hands this time but i do not want to risk sounding like an over enthusiastic movie school graduate.

Coming soon are our other contenders- Anurag Basu, the director of Life in a Metro - an unusual tale of many intertwined lives in this cosmopolis, Sriram Raghavan, the director of Johny Gaddaar, a slick casino heist movie & last but not the least the director duo Abbas mastaan with their largely underrated brilliance in Naqaab- a film about reality cinema... I hope this posting inspired you to think a bit more about Indian cinema :)