Dhruv (Gappu)

May 17, 2020 Leave a comment

Before Dhruv becomes old enough to ask why bhaiya has a poem on this blog, but he doesn’t- an old one written on the day I held him first –

वो पूछेंगे की कौन हो तुम
कह देना
मैं गप्पू हूं
गप्पू
वो गाल में होता है ना
वो वाला गुप्पु

पापा के कंधों पर सोता रहने वाला
मम्मा की गोदी में हंसने रोने वाला

भैया दिन है तो रात हूँ मैं
उसकी हर अधूरी बात हूँ मैं

किसी का सपना किसी की जी लेने की चाहत
जैसे आसमान में उड़ती पतंग
या किसी के दबे पाँव चलने की आहट

कभी ऊँगली पकड़ता हूँ
कभी राह दिखाने वाला ध्रुव तारा
कभी आरोह, कभी अवरोह
कभी आपने में छुपाने वाला अँधेरा
कभी आँचल में समेत लूँ , वो उजियारा

कहना

मैं गप्पू हूँ , गप्पू
मेरा नाम सुन के चेहरे पे मुस्कराहट आती है
सूखे होंठों पे हंसी
गीली आँखों में चमक
और ठहरे लफ़्ज़ों में थरथराहट आती है

गप्पू गप्पें भी हांकते हैं
तोतली बोतली आवाज़ों में
कह देना
मेले दोस्त बनोगे तो कहानी भी छुनाऊँगा

मगर याद रहे
मेरे साथ मेरी कहानी सुन के
तुम भी थोड़े गप्पू हो जाओगे
मेरी उँगलियों के घेरे में
तुम अपनी नयी तस्वीर बनाओगे

गप्पू का मतलब मत समझाना गप्पू

वर्ण सब जल जाएंगे,
पूछेंगे
सिर्फ तुम क्यों गप्पू? मैं भी गप्पू?
तुम हंस कर केह देना
हाँ, तुम, मैं , हम सब गप्पू

बस मेरी ठिठियाती हंसी में जुड़ जाओ
फिर सब कुछ बस गप्पू ही गप्पू

The missus does not want me destroying his name as well, but what do you do when you have kids who give you the feeling of laddu and gappu!

Filed under Musings Tagged with , , ,

Can you turn back time?

April 23, 2020 Leave a comment

Can you turn back time?

It’s been four years.

Four long years…

I’ve missed you.

Every day.

Every success,

every failure.

Every happiness,

every tear.

But I cannot turn back time

To give you more of mine.

I cannot come back home

To sit next to you

And not say anything,

And know

That you know.

That somehow you do.

You always did.

If I could turn back time

I would take one more vacation.

One more summer eating mangoes,

One more winter covered in warm quilts.

One more evening getting scolded,

One more morning being loved,

Laughing about the loader’s son,

And having good food

Cooked by mom.

Did you like anyone else’s cooking?

Ever?

I somehow don’t.

Mom’s special…

She gets by

Sometimes alone

I am not the good child. I never was.

And still am not…

She tries to turn time back

Over and over again.

For us,

For you,

For what you left behind.

Sometimes,

Google tries.

It turns back time.

With photos and videos,

that bring you to me.

And makes me happy

and sad

all in the same moment.

It showed me a photograph today

Of us

From four years back.

A big happy family.

Waiting for the worst to happen.

Smiling

With you,

For you.

Hoping for miracles

When there were none.

Wishing to turn back time.

Could not do it then,

Cannot do it now.

Filed under Musings, Writing

इक नाम लिखा है (Ik Naam Likha Hai)

August 13, 2018 1 Comment

इस दिल के अरमानों पर
इस घर के सामानों पर
इक नाम लिखा है

इस घर के चंद चरागों पर
दीवारों पर, दागों पर
इक नाम लिखा है

बड़े दिनों के बाद
मेरे बेदिल अफसानों पर
इक नाम लिखा है

तेरे साथ की बातों पर
तेरे इश्क़ की रातों पर

आवाज़ों पर, आहों पर
दरवाज़ों पर, राहों पर

इक नाम लिखा है

शीशे पर, और जामों पर
गुज़रे हुए जमानों पर

इक नाम लिखा है

 

कुछ बेनाम से रिश्तों पर
जीने की इन किश्तों पर

इक नाम लिखा है

इन आधे अधूरे लफ़्ज़ों पर
रिश्तों पे लगते कब्ज़ों पर

इक नाम लिखा है

 

चेहरे की इन झुर्रियों पर
दिल पे चलती छुरियों पर

मौत की खामोशी पर
मौसम की सरगोशी पर

इक नाम लिखा है

 

मैंने, मेरे दोस्त, मेरे गमख्वार
मेरे हमख़्वाब
शिद्दत से तेरी इबादत में
पैगाम लिखा है
इक कोरे कागज़ पर जाने कितनी दफे
बिन स्याही की कलम उठाये
बस…

इक नाम लिखा है
इक नाम लिखा है

Filed under Ghazal, Writing Tagged with ,

Book Review: Godman to Tycoon by Priyanka Pathak Narain

October 5, 2017 Leave a comment

Sometimes, Twitter does good. It was through Twitter that I realized that I wanted to read this book. Someone was posting passages and snippets from the book. Soon enough, I realized that the book is not easily available online (digital or print editions). Because there is an injunction to the distribution and sales of this book. More intrigue. More itch to get the book. I can be blamed for many things, but being resourceful on matters such as these wouldn’t be one of them. [Anyway, click on the book, and you will get to the Infibeam page where it’s being sold]

So, with the book in my hand, and a long weekend around the corner, I dug my heels in, and began my quest to understand this extremely enigmatic person and brand. For, Baba Ramdev, the person, is the same thing as Patanjali, the brand. At least in my humble world view.

Someone already did a brilliant TL;DR version of the book, so I would let you go read that. I would not talk about specific gossipy elements. Or maybe, I would.

The book is a pretty darn good read. The level of research, given the general air of mystery around the Baba, is good. The narrative style – fluid. The level of detail – not so much that it becomes boring. Not so little – that you say “is that it?” I was expecting far more sensationalism and far less detail from the book. Sometimes, three passages that are used for advertising are all there is to the book. Quite similar to the trailer of Dharma movies.

Well, coming back to the man – Baba Ramdev’s life can be organized in 3-4 brackets.

First, the  early life in Saidpur, Haryana. Next, from the Khanpur Gurukul to Saffronisation of Baba at Kripalu Bagh Ashram. This phase introduces two of the most important actors of the story – Acharya Balkrishna and Acharya Karamveer. The third stage is the media brand that Ramdev built. And lastly, the Patanjali phase.

While the third and fourth phases make for an engrossing read and are a lot well researched, the first two leave a lot to be desired. The third and fourth phase also have the benefit of far higher media coverage, availability of footprints online, and more people tracking who this Baba is!

When it comes to the first two phases, the book somewhat disappoints. Ramdev’s strained relationship with his father, the agonies of a poor farming family’s life in rural India, and his family relationships – leading all the way to his running away to join Khanpur Gurukul – are largely unexplored. One of the biggest mysteries has to be how the failed family relationships suddenly became an important pillar of his empire (his brother handles all the finances of Patanjali, and has a hot-n-cold relationship with Acharya Balkrishna). It is here that a reader wants to understand Balkrishna and Ramdev’s relationship. One of the unresolved conflicts of the narration is how easily Ramdev became the CEO in the trio of Ramdev-Balkrishna-Karamveer, given that Acharya Karamveer was the senior of the three and had helped them get their foothold in Haridwar.

Second, the Gurukul to Kanakhal foothold. From Karamveer’s introduction into the story, to the eventual “saffronisation” of Baba Ramdev as he spots the opportunity of taking over the Kripalu Bagh Ashram of Shankar Dev. This section builds up a reasonable amount of understanding of how Baba Ramdev started becoming a Godman. You see early signs of his visionary forward thinking, business acumen, and leadership skills. But here again, a lot of things are presented on face value – like a chain of events. The under-currents of relationships are not that well explored. What’s great to know is how the same set of opportunities led three different men to three different places. Balkrishna started his Divya Pharmacy stage at this point.

However, the book picks up heat in the last two phases. There are lot more balancing viewpoints, people speaking in favour and against Ramdev and his Patanjali empire. A reasonably wide gamut of issues are touched upon – from something as serious as the suspicious death of Swami Yogananda/ Rajeev Dixit, to the less talked about marginalization of Shankar Dev.

Scrupulous as his methods come across as, there’s a lot to admire about the Baba Ramdev, the businessman. How early he spots the religious TV opportunity and the far sighted calls taken on Patanjali products are commendable. Yet, as expected, the book leaves you with a lot of unease about a man who’s revered by a large section of people, and yet has enough skeletons in the closet that the authorities are paying lip service to.

I felt that as a journalist, Priyanka Pathak Narain has done a fabulous job of not taking an either-or stand about Ramdev.  A lot of the evidence is anecdotal and conversational. The places where there is hard-evidence (such as the litigations or product failures), she does present an unambiguous picture. But for what its worth, success has as many enemies as it has friends. While writing the book, it must have been tough to not color every passage with a bit of black against his name, yet the book seems to respect the difference between information and opinions.

 

I really enjoyed the book, and would heartily recommend it to all you Dant-Kanti lovers and haters alike! Have I used Patanjali products? Unfortunately, yes. ☹

 

p.s. One of the funniest things about the book is everyone’s failure to find Baba Ramdev’s date of birth! I mean, in the age of Aadhaar…

 

 

 

 

Filed under Book Review

Winter

January 3, 2017 Leave a comment

Winter is like that.

Cold on the outside. So much, that it makes you feel warm inside. With the right company. Or, the right book. Or, with the right view.

It makes you look inside.

Like the way mild rain showers do. Not the torrential downpours. No, they scare you.

Mild rain showers make you wrap yourself up in an imaginary cocoon. And sing songs to yourself. As you walk back to the comfort of your home. Or, the place you can call home.

 

And as you shiver, you become one with the surroundings.

Winters can do that.

Like mild rains.

Not summers though.

 

The winter haze hides all noise. Sometimes, you rub your ears just to hear something. The sound of silence, maybe.

You only see what you need to see.

Or, what you expect to see.

When you stand by the windows in winter, you see beauty. Nature’s silence.

winter

Everything is an illusion. Or not. Like the heightened taste of pakodas. Or, the warm glow of companionship.

In winters, two often become one. As they seek each other.

And as two become one, the world seems like a less crowded place. Not divided by the difference between tea and coffee, white and black, paratha and dosa, capitalists and socialists. Like a nice coffee shop with a community table, which has space for just one more person. And another.

Like that community fire that makes you sit around and share stories. With space for just one more person. One more story.

 

Aren’t wintery places more sought after holiday destinations? Like Switzerland? Kashmir? As compared to the desert of Thar? Or Chennai?

 

Winters bring out the best in everything. Except, the colours of nature. Nature becomes silent. And broody. But broody is beautiful, no? Don’t you see a lot more of model photoshoot pictures where the subject is intense and broody. Not cheerful. Isn’t that the appeal of Ajay Devgan? Apparently?

 

 

I wonder why he wrote it that way. The Winter Is Coming. Ominous. Winter is nice. Winter is togetherness. Winter is the countless night spend together huddled in the same rajai. Winter is multiple rounds of chai-coffee together. Winter is those lazy five minutes of sleep. Winter is the new year picnic with family and friends. Winter is the steam coming off a hot roti. Winter is us.

 

 

 

 

Filed under Musings

hum jaane kya kya kar aaye

January 2, 2017 Leave a comment

Another one from the offline archives that never made to the blog this year.

 

Hum jaane kya kya kar aaye
Ye muththi khaali kar aaye
Jor laga ke bheenchi par
Hun ret na kaabu kar paaye

Paani ki tarah sab pighal gaya
In aankhon se aansoo ban kar
Kuch sapne humne tod liye
Do aankhein khaali kar aaye

Ab haath khule par dua nahi
Ab zakhm khule hain, dawaa nahi
Apni zebein khali kar ke
Allah ka daaman bhar aaye

Kaatenge kaise baaki umar
Is baat pe charcha kya karna
Tasveer bitha ke is ghar mein
Hum tumko rukhsat kar aaye

Tum baith wahan khush khush hoge
Hum roz yahan kuch rote hain
Har roz koi kissa keh kar
Hum dil pe marham kar aaye

Filed under Musings

Moving on… From 2016

January 1, 2017 Leave a comment

It’s been an year. More than that. I’ve not written anything here. This blogging part of my life has stayed dormant. I was busy. Not writing. I ended 2015 with this, and I had to eat my own words in 2016.

2016 was not good. In totality. The year you lose your father cannot give you a victory big enough to compensate for your loss.

I was busy with that phase of taking care of him. Trying to take care of him. Compromising on almost everything else. Even when I was doing other things.

Later, I was busy grieving. The grief still sneaks in from here and there. More so, on the days I sit down to write something. It’s almost like I need to apologize before the conversation can move forward. For everything I did not do enough of.

I haven’t written much about him. I don’t know what to write about him.

The middle class guy that I am, I spent a lifetime living his dreams. All except one. I don’t regret that.

I do regret not talking enough. I regret not doing enough. I regret not being there as often. I regret a lot of those things. Comes with the territory, I guess.

I would like to believe that I made him proud. I am certain some of my actions or decisions did not agree with him. He tried not to make me feel bad about them.

Everyone believes that I was his favorite. I hope I did enough to be his favorite. I hope it wasn’t just because I was the youngest. And the cutest. 🙂

I hope he knew that I loved him as much as he loved me. It’s difficult though.

I am grateful that his pain and suffering did not prolong. I am grateful that while his sickness lasted long, he did not have a difficult departure. I am grateful that I was there. I always feel that I would have not been able to come back to my life if I was not there. If I hadn’t seen him leave.

 

So, here’s to an attempt to fall forward in 2017. I hope that when this year is over, I am done with getting my life and living in order again, you can still proudly say –“my son!”.  To quote from what I wrote for Aaroh

मेरे लड़खड़ाते कदमो को थाम ले
वो ऊँगली हो तुम

तुम मेरा कल हो
तुम्हारा आज हूँ मैं
तुम्हारी अनकही कहानी का
अंदाज़ हूँ मैं

And in case you have internet where you are – here’s a pic for you.

dsc_0021

 

***

This is what I wrote on the night of May 6th. The night before he left.

तुम्हें लौट कर आज आन पड़ेगा।
अभी बात मेरी पूरी नहीं है।
अभी मैंने काफी कहा ही नहीं है।
अभी तुमने काफी सुना ही नहीं है।

अभी मेरे सपने अधूरे अधूरे।
अभी मेरी हर दास्तां है अधूरी।
अभी मैंने कितने फ़साने हैं लिखने।
अभी लफ्ज़ मैंने बुना ही नहीं है।

बस इक बार हंस के मुझे देख लो तुम
बस इक बार और सीना चौड़ा तो हो ले
बस इक बार और उस बिस्तर पे सो लूँ
बस इक बार तुमको पकड़ के मैं रो लूँ

फिर इक बार तुम मेरी बातें समझ लो
फिर इक बार फिर मुझपे गुस्सा तो कर लो
फिर इक बार एक चुटकुला तो सुना दो
अभी मैंने कुछ भी सुना ही नहीं है

अभी मैंने कुछ भी सुना ही नहीं है
अभी मैंने कुछ भी सुना ही नहीं है

Filed under Musings

Nazm- हम में भी बड़ा दम है

December 17, 2015 2 Comments

कहते हैं बड़ा ग़म है
हम में भी बड़ा दम है

था खौफ कहानी में
पर रूबरू बेदम है

हाथों में सुलेमानी
और रूह में ज़म ज़म  है

हम दीखते हैं तनहा
ये इश्क़ तो  पाहम है

हर ज़ख्म हरा हो ले
हर अश्क़ में मरहम है

गर छत नहीं तो क्या है
सर साया-इ-मरियम है

निकले हैं बाँध सर पे कफ़न
अब कई दीवाने
होना है जो हो जाए
ये जूनून फ़राहम है
हम में भी बड़ा दम है

Filed under Ghazal, Writing Tagged with , ,

Movie Review: Prem Ratan Dhan Payo

December 15, 2015 1 Comment

Yesterday, I subjected myself to this movie. To survive, I tweeted throughout the movie. Rather than write a review and, in that process, hate myself again, I present to you – the storified tweets.

 

prdp

Filed under Bollywood, Movie Review Tagged with , , , , ,

Book Reviews

September 13, 2015 Leave a comment

A bunch of book reviews I had done for thetalespensieve are out.

 

Zen Garden by Subroto Bagchi – Collection of Bagchi’s interactions with some of the finest business and social leaders, entrepreneurs and pathmakers, invited to the Zen garden, where they share their life stories, inflexion and tipping points, principles, driving forces, passion, and success mantras.

“Comes in easy language and short chapters, well catalogued without being prescriptive, and is a great bed-time read.” (4/5)

Dream With Your Eyes Open by Ronnie Screwvala – Ronnie Screwvala traverses his entrepreneurial journey of over two decades in his debut book. More popularly known for having created UTV from scratch, many people may not know about his several other stints across toothbrushes, games, and many other categories (not all of them successful).

Great lessons, extremely conversational, slightly preachy, but a wide view of what entrepreneurship can be!

 

Letters From An Indian Summer by Siddharth Dasgupta – less a novel, more an elegy. It’s a celebration of Arjun Bedi and Genevieve Casta’s love story, through letters and meetings, destiny and serendipity spread over 5 years and many countries.

Reminded me of the first time I had sizzlers. Someone else had ordered in on some other table in the restaurant. It promised a lot of sizzle and excitement. And it delivered on that very well! But once the show was over, the taste was passable. (2 on 5)

The Death And Afterlife of Mahatma Gandhi by Makarand Paranjape – ““He felt that non-violence during the struggle for independence was an expedient, i.e., resistance to the white man was undertaken in a non-violent manner simply because we had no military strength with which to offer battle.” – Kingslay Martin – Jan 27, 1948”

Where the book succeeds in a big way is by asking us – Is Mahatma Gandhi relevant anymore? Or, was Gandhi ever relevant in a post-independence India? Paranajape believes, and so do I, that he was, is and will continue to be. (Rating: 3/5)

Seven Uncommoners by Ridhima Verma – collection of biographical sketches of seven entrepreneurs from across a variety of industries in India.The choice of entrepreneurs is interesting – across gaming and technology (Vishal Gondal of Indiagames and Goqii), hospitality (Patu Keswani of Lemon Tree Hotels), logistics and supply chain (Pawan Jain of Safexpress), construction & infrastructure development (Jagdish Gupta of J Kumar Infraprojects), financial advisory (Mahesh Singhi of Singhi Advisors), facilities management (Prasad Lad of Krystal Group) and legal services (Nishith Desai of NDA).

The feeling that there has to be more, and that something has been left out, is the pervasive sentiment at the end of the read. Nevertheless, the book is a good celebration of home grown successes in a world which is excessively enamored by the Steve Jobs brand of arrogant leadership and perfect solutions.(Rating: 3.25/5)

A Hundred Lives For You by Abhisar Sharma – takes montages from three decades of Abhimanyu’s life. A media man with a penchant for reporting, Abhisar seems to have gotten down to writing a deeply personal book, or so it seems

Simple story, great emotions, good use of the country’s timeline, weak first half, good narrative, few editorial misses, and a very strong father-daughter relationship in the second half of the book. (Rating: 3.5/5)

 

Ladies Please! by Jose Covaco – A no-holds barred take on dating in India from a man’s perspective. Jose, through his series of spectacularly failed (I am not sure if they are real or imaginary, but at the very least they are relatable and everyday sightings) and moderately failed and occasionally successful relationships (because in India, there is no dating; there is only a relationship), bares it all and leaves you with (especially women) tips and tricks for dealing with the other sex better.

I strongly urge all ladies to read the book. Especially, if you want to really train your man. And of course when we talk about training or changing the man, all you are trying to do really is make us better. Right? The book is hilarious in pint size measures, but slow otherwise.(Rating 3:25/5)

 

Filed under Book Review, Entrepreneurship Tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Movie review: Masaan is so real that it hurts.

August 10, 2015 Leave a comment

A desolate Deepak is sitting with his friends. His friends are trying to console him. Deepak remembers Dushyant Kumar’s lines, his last conversastion with Shalu, and then screams – ee saala dard khatam kaahe nahi hota hai be. His friend says – chup ho ja be Deepak. Chup ho jao be… nahi to hum maar denge tumko, he stammers. And they all hold him close really hard. Deepak is crying hysterically. Another friend offers – abe tum humra bike lo be. Tum le ke jao… From Deepak’s silence, to his friends’ awkward cajoling, to the outburst, and to the friends again. His friends are in tears. But they are not crying. And they are crying – What. A. Scene. After a long time, I shed a tear drop during a movie scene. Not because the movie was gutwrenching. This particular scene was. It was so real that it hurt.

Masaan is so real that it hurts.

Deepak (Vicky Kaushal), a civil engineering final year student from a polytechnic college, finds his love in Shalu (Shweta Tripathy), a shayari lover, one who talks of Badr, Fazli and Ghalib. Shalu gifts him the lines from Dushyant Kumar – tu kisi rail si guzarti hai… Deepak gifts her an audio recording of their conversations along with a set of his favorite songs… gazab ka hai din dekho zara. Shalu is upper caste, whose entire family goes on annual pilgrimages like Badrinath, Kedarnath, and enjoys the food better if it is run by another Gupta ji – apne caste wale hain na, isliye. Deepak is a dom, who’s spent his entire life dealing with the dead bodies, crushing their skulls and wiping off the stench of their burning flesh from his face. Their love takes flight under the fear of the caste divide of a small town (Kashi), and finds closure on a boat ride at Allahabad.

Devi Pathak (Richa Chaddha) falls in love with Piyush at the coaching center where she teaches at. They decide to check into a hotel, only to be raided and harassed by cops shortly afterwards. Piyush commits suicide, and Devi and her father (Sanjay Mishra) finds themselves dealing with a ransom demand from the cop. Vidyadhar Pathak learns to deal with the financial and, more importantly, social setback of it, and Devi finds closure for something that her heart does not blame her for, through a railway job in the interim and a final ritual at the ghats of Allahabad.

The generational conflicts are everywhere, and so is the conflict between progressive and regressive thoughts. Vidyadhar finds her reconciliation with Devi after an initial outburst of anger. Devi closes the loop with Piyush’s parents, and then sends off Piyush in a touching moment, just as Deepak offers her “paani”. Devi wants to flee to Allahabad. Deepak wants to leave his masaan-ghat life behind. Most moments in Masaan exist without judgements. Exist like reality. Like the facebook friend request and the messages sent to Shalu before she accepts the friendship request. Or that balloon that floats through the air like a proclamation of love. Like Devi’s scroll through Piyush’s facebook photographs. Or the friends quipping – “Guptaji hain!” and reminding later on “wo upper caste hai. Jyada senti mat ho jaaana”. Like that carefully and painfully planned music player for Shalu. Like that guy in Devi’s office – seedhe pooch rahe hain. Degi kya? Or Deepak’s – wo last year strike ho gaya tha na, nahi to ab tak humara final ho chukka hota aur placement bhi. Like Sadhya ji’s – har college group mein ek intellectual gyaani type hota hai. Or Pathak ji’s “humko lag raha hai ki is mahine ho jayega”. Or Deepak’s father, in a moment of drunkenness, saying – “sab tu hi to hau”, and in that moment, summarizing the dreams and aspirations of many underprivileged who have pinned their hopes on their children’s education.

Interestingly, as the movie progresses, the concept of time is made irrelevant. When it ends, you have no idea how much time has gone by, but you can feel the amount of life that has gone by. That’s how time feels, right?

Perfect – Acting, Script, Dialogues, Cinematography,Editing and length!

Not too perfect – Ending – a little too good. I was glad that the movie was not a depressing end, but a positive fall forward. But a little too tied.

Gripe – the brother. It seemed to me that Neeraj Ghaywan (director) and Varun Grover (script) had some ideas about Deepak’s brother Sikander, but those ideas didn’t survive the editing table. Unfortunately, a conflict is shown for about a minute, and is not resolved any further. The only minute in the movie that didn’t seem to belong, as an after-thought.

Absolutely gorgeous – the soundtrack. There are three songs in the movie. Look at their placement and how much they achieve in the movie.

 

Overall – Go watch it. Please go and watch it. Did I say please only once? Please please go and watch it. Please.

 

And as a parting off thought – here are a few links –

“”Main jise odhtaa bichaata hun,

Vo ghazal aapko sunaata hun.

Ek jungal hai teri aankhon me,

Main jahaan raah bhool jaata hoon.

Tu kisi rail si guzarti hai,

Main kisi pul sa thartharaata hun.

Ek baazu ukhad gaya jub se,

aur zyaada wajan uthaata hun.”

– Dushyant Kumar

The full version w/ annotations is here

 

“Ho chuki hai peer parbat si pighalni chahiye, is himalay se koi ganga nikalni chahiye”

The lines though I remember of him often – kaun kehta hai ki asmaan mein suraakh nahi ho sakta, ek pathar to tabiyat se uchaalo yaaro.

And a whole lot of other Dushyant Kumar poems

 

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Can’t Put My Finger On It. But I Know Something’s Wrong.

August 9, 2015 11 Comments

Something has gone terribly wrong with the basic fiber.

Most people find it okay to jump traffic signals. There is a perverse delight even in being able to jump a light and jump the cop who tries to catch you shortly afterwards. Driving on the wrong side is fine. Incidentally, I live in this residential area, which, by conservative estimates, is higher middle class with a large proportion of educated (graduates and above) families. And yet, every morning, I find people driving the wrong way on a one way street in this residential area, just to avoid driving an extra 100–150 meters. Expensive fuel. I also see a lot of people whose driving license should be revoked given their parking skills.

Most people find it OK to not worry about their driving license, and let an extra 500 bucks to a grand take care of it. Most government offices and officials find it OK to take a bribe. Easier than having to check whether someone actually knows how to drive. The driving school guys also find it easier to get the license than to teach you how to drive.

Most service professionals find it perfectly alright to not deliver on their commitments. Most plumbers or carpenters mean one hour when they say they are 15 minutes away. Most technology companies find it OK to delay a project by a few months. Most hardware manufacturers find a 10–15% defect rate in their products OK.

In the most affluent city of this country, a metro rail project gets delayed by several years, and the city fails to buy the services of the best planners and builders, with all the money it has. In this process, every day, thousands of professionals who charge their clients and their organizations by the hour, spend several hours on the road just trying to get to their respective destinations. In the political power center of this country, a girl gets brutally raped and beaten and murdered, and it takes citizen rallies and candle light marches for the authorities to remember that this might need some attention.

Most people find it okay to be disrespectful towards a woman’s identity and her physicality. Teasing, groping, fondling, grabbing — they are all just fine. Somehow, a survey conducted on women suggests that more than 90% of them have been teased. Interesting, not more than 10% men commit to having participated or observed it.

In a certain state, men are married off without their consent and at gun-point, and in another, daughters are burnt or killed for expressing their desire to marry someone of their choice.

It has to be disturbing that a man often charged with abetting the murder of hundreds and thousands of people is the supreme political leader of this country, because a majority of constituencies felt that they had no other choice. It has to be unnerving that education minister of this country has had to refer to a certificate course of x days as her best credential for the job, only to be seriously undermined. It is even more disturbing that a politician universally acknowledged as the most corrupt ever has a gold plated Lanka of his own in a small Maharashtrian town that is now known for nothing else but this politician. It is also quite disturbing that the biggest democracy in the world has but one family owned business as the real political alternative.

The accident of having found a great president is almost immediately corrected by finding one that even hard fought despair could not have cared about. And a prime minister who could have done something is put on mute by a remote, ably handled by the buffoons of a family legacy.

The government actively bans harmful stuff — beef, porn. A college/ university even banned certain dresses. Harmful for the Indian culture. But religious, acidic and dividing speeches are not banned. Religious tolerance.

In broad public eye, 540 odd chosen people waste a nation’s precious time and money and do not let the office function, and nothing happens to them. In some companies, people are fired for showing dissent against their bosses.

Most are trained to respect our bosses. And not respect those who are not our bosses. Or peers. It is unacceptable to let your educated children work in a restaurant part time, and acceptable to laugh at the poor English of the unskilled service person. Most people want to have someone who could do their work. All the time. Maids, delivery boys, office boys… are, jara mera ye kaam kar dena… but find it rude if someone asks them to do something extra.

Most people find it an extra and unrequited effort to hold the door for someone coming from behind. But they find it OK to jump a queue and get in front of someone who might be ahead. They do make the extra effort for that.

Speaking of time and effort, our judiciary is piling over with the number of cases it has to handle. And it still keeps a case running for decades. An actor gets a bail after running over many people. Several years after running them over. Being Human? A young drunk lawyer can’t get bail for running over one. Fair and Blind Justice. A certain politician is still in contention, and gets support from the torch bearers of “anti-corruption and fairness”, having siphoned of a little over a 1000 crores in the name of fodder. And people will still vote for him. National Blindness.

They either support, or they are against. People take sides too easily. More importantly, they want people to take sides. Or they choose people’s sides. If one says Aye, one never gets to say Nay. The walls of protest have become too easy to paint — a digital swish, or a 140 character momentary wish. Every debate is black or white, no shades of grey for this nation of mine. “Jo galat nahi hai, wo jaroori nahi ki sahi ho”, I had read somewhere long back.

Something is terribly wrong with the fiber. I just can’t put my finger on it.

p.s. This post deserves a lot of hyperlinks. I am not in the mood though.

Filed under India, Musings Tagged with ,

Dilli, बड़ी रफ़्तार है

July 30, 2015 Leave a comment

बड़ी रफ़्तार है तेरे शहर में

हर इक ठहराव पे गुस्सा निकलता है
बड़ी रफ़्तार से
हर इक तकरार पे चलते हैं खंजर
बड़ी रफ़्तार से

कभी गर भीड़ में रफ़्तार धीमी पड़ गयी तो
कोई चिल्लाता है फ़ौरन से,भइ
साइड को हो ले दिखाई को ना देता
पलट के आती है गाली बड़ी रफ़्तार से

कभी पीले से कपडों से दुप्पट्टा जैसे सरका
तभी झोंके से आई एक सीटी
बड़ी रफ़्तार से
चिपक के एक फब्ती कस दी किसने
मिली बेशर्म आँखें फिर
बड़ी रफ़्तार से

दिलाया याद सबको कौन हैं वो,नाम क्या है
दिया ठुल्ले को सौ का नोट
क्या रफ़्तार से
जो बच कर आँखों से छुपना हो मुमकिन
तो मारी केडी क्या रफ़्तार से

अगर भूले से आँखें मिल गयी तो
किया इनकार क्या रफ्तार से
जो उसने ज़ोर डाला सच का जालिम
दुहाई दी तो क्या रफ़्तार से

जो देखा सामने कमज़ोर कोई
दबाया उसको किस रफ़्तार से
जो देखा सामने भारी सा कोई
दबाया सच को भी रफ़्तार से

ये रफ़्तार तेरी है न मेरी
ये न सच है न कोई झूठ ही है
ये है रफ़्तार अब इस ज़िन्दगी की
ये है रफ़्तार तेरे इस शहर की

बड़ी रफ़्तार है तेरे शहर में
बहोत डर लगता ही तेरे शहर से

Filed under Musings, Writing Tagged with ,

Book Review: The Girl On The Train by Paula Hawkins

July 19, 2015 1 Comment

I picked up Paula Hawkins’ “The Girl On The Train” for just one reason – for the last several weeks, I have seen the book perched on top of the NY Times Bestsellers list (Fiction). Lately, my reading has gone down significantly. Some of it can be attributed to paucity of time, but the bigger reason, I hypothesize, is a distracted head-space. Sometimes, I believe, reading fast paced fiction helps you get back in the groove. And TGOTT seemed to fit the bill. Also, I had seen a rather interesting promo image sometime back – of several ladies sitting side by side on a subway train reading ‘the girl on the train’.

TGOTT

Image Source: http://www.usatoday.com/story/life/books/2015/01/28/american-sniper-the-girl-on-the-train-usa-today-best-selling-books-list/22464365/

 

Rachel, the girl on the train, loves looking out of the window and weaving stories about what she sees. She gives names to people, imagines stories about stranded items like clothes or shoes, and obsesses over them. She is a divorced alcoholic with severe depression and confidence issues, who cannot seem to get over her broken marriage, and just cannot get her life back together. She is the central protagonist. Most of the chapters have been written from her perspective. The male characters in the book don’t get chapters of their own. The other two girls of the story are Anna – the new wife of Tom, and Jess/ Megan – a girl Rachel has seen many times from the train’s window. Tom is Rachel’s ex-husband. And Scott is Megan’s husband. Kamal Abdic is Megan’s therapist. With this much, here is a poll for you to consider – Column A is the murdered. And Column B is the murderer. Take a guess.

Victim Perpetrator
Rachel Rachel
Megan Megan
Anna Anna
Tom Tom
Scott Scott
Kamal Kamal
Some other person briefly mentioned Some other person briefly mentioned

TGOTT excels at its broader plot contours. It delivers a taut murder mystery. The book works well as a single session race to the finish. It uses the standard narrative of a shifting timeline and multiple vantage points to create a sense of darkness, foreboding, and suspense. More often than not, it succeeds. Paula has created a book which is ready to be adapted into a movie (and Emily Blunt will be starring as Rachel). All the right elements. But it is no “Gone Girl”. It neither has characters so grey or flawed, nor a suspense so riveting. Moreover, the central characters are not “that” smart. Megan is a bored seductress, Rachel is a broken alcoholic, Anna is an insecure home-maker and a new mother, Scott an overbearing masochistic husband, Kamal a flawed therapist, and Tom is the ex-husband who doesn’t like anyone touching his phone or laptop. The darkness that permeates that entire narrative of Gone Girl is missing here, save for the end where you see the untapped potential of some of these characters.

Let’s revisit the poll with the additional information I just threw at you. Has your opinion changed?

TGOTT’s problem for me was its predictability. The victim’s too obvious, and so is the perpetrator. The haste in introducing the suspects, and the choice of crime scene makes it a little too obvious. The decoys and breadcrumbs are not the most engaging. Yet, the storytelling is gripping. I envy (and respect) people who can write such engaging stuff.

TGOTT’s other problem is the long drawn moping of Rachel. The continuously repeating montage of her getting drunk, reprimanding herself, and the wine and the gin and the tonic stops serving its purpose beyond a point, unless you are too absorbed to notice the conflict that is established in each such cycle. In the end you might just say – oh yea! remember that?

All in all – It’s a middle of the road – 6 on 10 – kinda thriller. I enjoyed it. I would not, though, go out of my way to recommend it. I won’t diss it either.

In a world where “The Girl On The Train” by Paula Hawkins is a long standing NY Times Bestseller #1 (Fiction), I worry about the quality and quantity of what is being read at large. Am I being extremely critical of the book? No. I definitely do not want to. Do I think the book is an undeserving bestseller? Not at all. It probably is the best thing visible on the shelf right now. My problem – the #1 for weeks should have been a little less obvious.

The novel has quite a few loose ends, which I hope get resolved some day. Someone once told me that to be a good writer, the need to be a good storyteller is way higher than the need to have a good story. So there! More power to Paula, because I do believe that the survivors of this novel can come together for another twist in the tale.

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Bajrangi Bhaijaan – The Jaan Is Shahida

July 18, 2015 2 Comments

bajrangiI think it has been forever that I got down to watch a movie on its release day. And that is not to say that I was so excited by the prospects of watching Bajrangi Bhaijaan on Day 1 that I broke the well-defined norms of parenthood. I went down to watch Baahubali (having heard people rave on and on about its scale and grandeur), and since there were no shows of Baahubali, or any other movie for that matter, I watched a significantly overpriced Bhaijaan. Overpriced has a definition here. Each ticket of PVR Gold Class was 800 bucks. Without any popcorn or cold-drink included in the ticket price. Why did I not turn back? Because I don’t do that. No, I don’t. And if I try to, the missus does not let me do that. Not when movie watching events with just the two of us have become so preciousssss.

Now, you know, I am a fan of Bhaisms. That mindless over the top drama with dialogues like “main dil mein aata hoon, samajh mein nahi” or “mujhpe ek ehsaan karna…”

The movie is about a mute girl from Pakistani who finds herself stranded in India, only to be rescued by Bajrangi Bhaijaan, urf Pavan Kumar Chaturvedi, a naïve lad from Pratapgarh, who lives in Delhi, but finds the girl in Kurukshetra. Bhaijaan promptly decides that it is his duty to take the girl back to Pakistan, against all odds, and help her unite with her parents.

Can you imagine the hand pump sized opportunities here? A Pakistan full of stereotypes, an army full of good for nothing soldiers, an occasional world-unifying-Muslim-with-a-heart-of-gold, and Bajrangi Bhaijaan going “Hulk Smash” on them? The number of grey haired preachy sermons being delivered to tikka and akshat wearing nincompoops?

It does not happen that way.

 

Read the rest of the review with the sarcasmometer aside.

The movie is fairly heart-warming. But for the last 15-20 minutes, its reasonably well-toned and not over the top. The kid-Bhaijaan equation is not full of melodrama. In fact, it’s lovably cute. In fact, it is this that makes the movie very very warm. It’s not a typical Salman movie. [Spoiler alert]: Salman does not bare it all this time. There is a total of 2 minutes of serious Salman kinda violence in the movie at the end of which one guy is found hanging by the electric wires of purani dilli, and a policeman in Chawra, Pakistan is seen nursing his neck and apologising for letting a jasoos escape. Few broken tables and a few broken glass doors. That’s all.

Salman tries to act this time, and not play Thalaivar. And for most of the movie, gets it right. By his sheer charm, not by his acting skills. There is something about his chemistry with Shahida (the kid, Harshaali). Their scenes together are almost perfect. Shahida, by the way, without a dialogue, is so awesomely perfect and cute in this movie that even before she is stranded in Pakistan, you start waiting for her to cheer for Pakistan Team. She is not just a cute prop. It is she who really elevates the movie to being a genuinely lovable movie. I can safely imagine quite a few tears being shed across the theatre, so heart-breaking her pain is in quite a few scenes. On second thoughts, it’s good that she does not have dialogues. Most adult script writers don’t get kiddy dialogues right. They make them either too cute or too preachy. Kareena Kapoor Khan  is an unrequired prop in the movie. She provides enough support to the emotions of the movie, and her eyes still light up the best in the industry.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui. You were waiting to hear about him, right? I think Nawaz confessed in an interview somewhere that commercial movies help pay the bills better than the movies with great scripts and direction. Nawaz is spot on. He more or less always is, these days. He pulls off that “Eid mein Karachi se andruni mulkon ki” video copy. Interestingly, his character is named Chand Nawab (just as it was in the original video here). I was so hoping that they allow him to swear freely, but I guess censor board would not have liked it. In a way, he owns the screens when he is there. And he may just have the problem that Irrfan Khan had some time back. He overshadows the “superstars” too easily. The only place where he falters a bit is that last passionate appeal of his exhorting people to come support Bhaijaan. But by then, it’s all over.

The others in support – Rajesh Sharma, Sharat Saxena, Om Puri, etc. are extremely well cast and right on the money.

For a change, Salman decided to start off with a script this time. Or, maybe, Kabir Khan decided not to throw away the script in his excitement of having signed Salman for a movie which was getting an Eid release.

One of the biggest positives of the movie – it’s neither preachy nor pedantic. Mostly.

The movie has its flaws, the biggest of which is its ending, and the long standing gripe I have against the “need to conclude”. I don’t think there was a need for Shahida to get her speech. I don’t think it was important to have the army general drama about forcefully trying to prove Bajrangi a spy. I don’t think there was a need to apologetically convert a staunch Hindu Bajrangi and make him do an Allah hafiz slow-mo. More importantly, I don’t think there was a need to stretch the movie too long to accommodate all this.

The music is not much to write about. Bhar de jholi meri + Adnan Sami is the high point. Selfie le re will always be the song that you don’t confess to liking, but are bound to hear on every radio channel 15 times a day, just because it’s so popular and catchy.

Camerawork / DOP deserves some mention too. The opening shots, and some of the shots of Pakistan part of the movie (the corn truck scenes/ the sunsets, etc.) are beautifully shot. For some reason, the last shot of the movie, between the two borders, reminded me of Henna.

The movie runs much longer than I would have liked. But the charisma of Bhai is such that directors always think more is better.

 

In short – it’s a very decent, un-Salman movie which has done well to encash his stardom. I do have my doubts about it being a 150Cr movie though. And – “pehle pata karo ye Boo Ali kaun hai”

 

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