Monday, December 05, 2005

The Fourth DBM was...

a success, Mr. Ranjan Yumnam. :D

Now, I know I was the host (who reached a little late though), but there were no minutes taken down, and the agenda - well, there was none.

Fifteen people turned up:
(This list also includes four "elite" bloggers)

...Lots more news on the DBM later today - at a time when I'm not dangerously late for work.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Some more updates on the 4th DBM:

  • Quite high on nice white wine and potent sake right now. (...ok, this wasn't about the 4th DBM...I know...but it's my blog...what you gonna do?)
  • Blog Meet tomorrow. It'll be fun.
  • Have reserved place in DV8 for about 12-15 people. (Again. Hah, Saket! ...Before your list-making began.) :)
  • Blog Meet starts at 5, which gives us at least 3 hours to drink within Happy Hours! Yay!
  • They just might be convinced to let Happy Hours go on even after that(!), what with DV8 regulars like yours truly and Anand being present. Double yay!
  • I really hope Ranjan Yumnam drops in. However, even if he doesn't, Jai thinks he himself might attempt a sting operation this time.
  • Meanwhile, Tarun, of course, promises that there'll be frisking for media credentials.
  • Quite a few people have confimed. Even those who haven't - please drop in. We'll be the large group of people - four of them, "elite bloggers". :D Please do come.
  • If anyone needs to tie up anything, here's my number again - 98101-41855.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Coming Up: The Fourth "Delhi" Bloggers' Meet

Update: Six people have accepted as yet. I'd really appreciate it if everyone could spread the word further. Also, you could call me at 98101-41855. And, yeah- in case DV8 doesn't suit everyone, please suggest an alternative. And, if it's gonna be DV8, then well...we catch Happy Hours (Yay!) from whenever we get there till 8 o'clock. Also, a few things in its favour, or the reasons why I thought of it- nice, comfy couches, not very loud music, and very friendly waiters. Ooh, and...pretty nice cocktails! ;)

Meanwhile, some more on the upcoming blog meet- it's gonna be all about frisking and recording, I hear.


I hereby accept to host the Fourth "Delhi" Bloggers' Meet, which, I insist, will represent all of Delhi.

Also, since I be one of the now-famous "elite" bloggers, I also be the right person to host this Blog Meet.

Date: 4th of December, Sunday
Time: 5 p.m.
Venue: DV8, Regal Building, Connaught Place

All you Delhi Bloggers are invited, and a special invitation is hereby extended to a certain Mr. Ranjan Yumnam.

---Leave comments to confirm---

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

One of the nicest opening lines in a film...

is - "This picture takes place in Paris in those wonderful days when a siren was a brunette and not an alarm --- and if a Frenchman turned out the light, it was not on account of an air raid!"

...from Ninotchka, made in 1939.

After the credits, the film's prologue is viewed over a long shot view of the Place de la Concorde in Paris, and that's when you hear this line.

Sunday, November 27, 2005


Mary Poppins:
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious

Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Because I was afraid to speak
When I was just a lad
My father gave me nose a tweak
And told me I was bad
But then one day I learned a word
That saved me achin' nose

Bert, Mary Poppins and Chorus:
The biggest word I ever heard
And this is how it goes: Oh!
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Mary Poppins:
He traveled all around the world
And everywhere he went
He'd use his word and all would say
"There goes a clever gent"

When Dukes and maharajas
Pass the time of day with me
I say me special word and then
They ask me out to tea

Bert, Mary Poppins and Chorus:
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Mary Poppins:
So when the cat has got your tongue
There's no need for dismay
Just summon up this word
And then you've got a lot to say
But better use it carefully
Or it could change your life

The Perlie:
One night I said it to me girl
And now me girl's my wife!

The Perlie, Mary Poppins and Chorus:
Even though the sound of it
Is something quite atrocious
If you say it loud enough
You'll always sound precocious
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay!

Click on the subject of this post for some pretty interesting information on "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious".

Before the Word

Corn is great, on the cob or otherwise,
but before corn in the ear there was life.
Fire is holy especially for Zoroastrians,
but before fire too there was life.
Before the bowstring and the flint arrow sang,
there was life.

The word is great,
yet there was life before the word.
We can't turn romantic and say
we were into bird speech or river-roar then,
into the silence of frost
or the language of rain.
But forest speech and swamp speech
came through easier to us.
When lightning crashed,
the cry of the marsh bird was our cry,
and we flung ourselves to the other branch
like any other baboon.

As winter whined on windy cliff,
we shivered with the yellow grass.
In winter-dark a hundred eyes
flared yellow in the jungle scrub.
When seasons changed, blood coursed with sap
and flowered in meadows. We were at home.
Nor eyes nor bat cries bothered us.
What if we didn't know
a bat assessed reality
from the ricochet of its cry?

Though there were no words,
fear had a voice with many echoes.
Worship was quieter, adoration
spoke only through the eyes or knees.

What was it like before language dropped like dew,
covering the scuffed grass of our lives?

Keki N. Daruwala is an eminent poet and fiction writer.
He writes in English and lives in New Delhi.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

sheher ki bechirag galiyon mein
zindagi tujhko dhoondti hai kahin...

so said someone to someone else...wonder what happened after that...

Friday, November 18, 2005

A prostitute to her daughter - K. Satchidanandan

Dear child, say without shame
that I am your mother
and this city is your father.
Go, tell the chaste wives,
I teach their men how to love.

I offered myself
in place of a thousand women,
and became a saint.

Man, my child, is endless Desire,
you should cross that sea
the way I rose above my body.

Raise your head;
be my survivor, grow to be great.
You should have a tryst with tomorrow:
you should see the sun
that I could not.

I do not want to weep before Jesus
nor do I want Upagupta to weep before me.
Every night I turn red hot,
every morning I become gold.

I conquered lust;
you should transcend greed.
We are the bountiful Earth
and we, the giving Nature.

(Translated from Malayalam by the poet with Rizio Raj)

Tuesday, November 15, 2005


"When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean - neither more nor less."
"The question is," said Alice, "whether you can make words mean so many different things."
"The question is," said Humpty Dumpty, "which is to be master - that's all."

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Na aaj lutf kar itna ke kal guzar na sake
woh raat jo ke tere gesoo'on ki raat nahin
ye aarzoo bhi baRi cheez hai magar hamdam
visaal-e-yaar faqat aarzoo ki baat nahin

Grant me not so much bounty today that tomorrow
night, without your locks,
may be too wearisome.
Yearning is a great thing, O friend,
but union with the beloved is not just a matter of

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Delhi Times/Delhi Slimes

Today's "Delhi Slimes" has an article about our Blogger Meet.

TTG also has a post about the article.

Now, the thing about the article is that, well, one, that Delhi Times (now Slimes) has sunk the lowest they could ever go; and two, that this article completely and totally misinterprets everything that was said that day.

I'm so fuckin' furious!

The only lucky thing about it, as TTG says too, is that River's name in the article isn't her real name.

I so hope Vulturo posts this "James' " number on his blog!

Update: James' number- 9818205432

Monday, November 07, 2005

...aur theek taraazu ke kaante par ardh satya

One of my friends was talking about Govind Nihalani's Ardh Satya the other day. :)

Couldn't help but remember the poem (by the same name) in the film. It was written by Dilip Chitre.

chakravyuh mein ghusne se pehle
main kaun tha aur kaisa tha
yeh mujhe yaad hi na rahega

chakravyuh mein ghusne ke baad
mere aur chakravyuh ke beech
sirf ek jaanleva nikat-ta thi
iska mujhe pata hi na chalega

chakravyuh se nikalne ke baad
main mukt ho jaoon bhale hi
phir bhi chakravyuh ki rachna mein
fark hi na padega

marun ya maarun
maara jaoon ya jaan se maardun
iska faisla kabhi na ho paayega

soya hua aadmi jab
neend se uthkar

chalna shuru karta hai
tab sapno ka sansar use
dikh hi na paayega

us roshni mein jo nirnay ki roshni hai
sab kuchh samaan hoga kya?

ek palde mein napunsakta
ek palde mein paurush
aur theek taraazu ke kaante par
ardh satya

happy, happy, happy

"In that direction," the grinning cat said, waving its paw round, "lives a Hatter: and in that direction," waving the other paw, "lives a March Hare. Visit either if you like: they're both mad."
"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said that Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here. By-the-bye, what became of the baby?"
"It turned into a pig," Alice answered very quietly.
"I thought it would," said the Cat, and vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end on the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.
"Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin," thought Alice; "but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious thing!"


Aanchal, you're a Golden Retriever!

No bones about it, you're a popular, fun-loving Golden Retriever. Adored by all and too cool for school, you're extroverted and enthusiastic. Your magnetic personality makes you the life of any bash. Since you're a true people-dog, you genuinely love all kinds of social gatherings. Going to parties, dinners, and other shindigs is the best way to add faces to your constantly growing circle of friends. But besides being on the social A-list, you're a confident, well-rounded pup who's definitely something to bark about. Pretty accomplished at anything you set your mind to, your sunny nature and winning ways make you one of everyone's favorite dogs. Woof!

The Accidental Elephant a lovely new blog with children's poetry and illustrations. :)

I'M BACK! stay! :)

The reason for my long-drawn absence was a mixture of nothing much to write about and having got a life. But, like I said...
I'm back!


Went to Blogger's Meet at the (supposedly quieter!) Barista Creme. Other bloggers in attendance: River, TTG and Vulturo, and a sweet guy called James (who I hear was there since 4:30 p.m.!). We talked and had nice coffees.
More on today's Blogger's Meet: Here and here.

Went back to Majnu ka Tila (after ages!) for some Beef Chilli and Tingmos and Shabhaklep. Was nice as always.

Contemplated going to Blues for a long overdue glass of Don't Dig It, but decided against it.

Came back home, played with Xena some, made a firm resolve to get back to blogging.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

A very nice poem here.

P.S.: I shall be back soon.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Aisi nazar se dekha us zaalim ne chowk par...
humne kaleja rakh diya chaaku ki nok par...

....meri angdaai na toote tu aaja...

Love the feeling of being in love
(Yes, Mom. It feels great. I know. :) )

Love how one person seems like the world for a moment. Love how no one else comes even close...hasn't come even close...for more than three years now. Love how it just doesn't seem like three years.

"Three years?? Really?!! It's been that long?"

"Three years? It's just been three years?"

Love how three years sometimes seems like such a long time, but it feels like much lesser.

Love the feeling of getting to know someone. Everyday. More and more.

The biggest lie you ever told,
your deepest fear about growing old,
the longest night you ever spent,
the angriest letter you never sent,
the boy you swore you'd never leave,
the one you kissed on New Year's Eve,
the sweetest dream you had last night
your darkest hour, your hardest fight...

....The saddest song you ever heard,
the most you said with just one word,
the loneliest prayer you ever prayed,
the truest vow you ever made,
what makes you laugh, what makes you cry,
what makes you mad, what gets you by,
your highest high, your lowest low - these things I want to know....

:) I feel happy. Constantly.
...Well, almost. :)

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Optical Illusions - I

A skull...
or a woman in front of a mirror?

One old man...
or two people?

Tuesday, August 23, 2005


I love Garfield!
...Even more so since I've had Xena. Cats are all so like Garfield! :D

This is the first Garfield strip that Jim Davies made. It was published on the 19th of June 1978.

This one here was when Odie appeared for the first time - on the 9th of August 1978.

This, here, was the first time that Pooky made an appearance. The 23rd of October 1978.

And, this is today's Garfield strip:

Monday, August 22, 2005


"Our relationship was the greatest achievement of my life"

But did Simone de Beauvoir's scandalous open 'marriage' to Sartre make her happy, asks Lisa Appignanesi

Friday June 10, 2005
The Guardian

The Bogart and Bacall of existentialism ... De Beauvoir and Sartre in 1946. Posted by Picasa

'Women, you owe her everything!" So read the headline announcing Simone de Beauvoir's death in April 1986. It was a phrase repeated over and over at her funeral, where some 5,000 mourners gathered to pay tribute to the writer many consider the greatest French woman of the 20th century, author of The Second Sex, mother of the modern women's movement. De Beauvoir's ashes duly found their place next to those of Jean-Paul Sartre, her partner in life, though never in marriage. He had died six years almost to the hour before her, and her last book, Farewell to Sartre, was the only one he had never read prior to publication.

De Beauvoir had declared that whatever her many books and literary prizes, whatever her role in the women's movement or as an intellectual ambassador championing causes such as Algerian independence, her greatest achievement in life was her relationship with Sartre - philosopher, playwright, philanderer, born 100 years ago this month.

There is something mysterious in De Beauvoir's insistence. Given Sartre's other liaisons, and that this was the height of the women's movement, it seems to fly in the face of common sense. Yet the Simone who had flouted convention in the 20s by entering into an open liaison with an ugly, charismatic young unknown was not about to conform to expectations.

Whether we agree with her own startling assessment or not, it's clear that De Beauvoir was neither lying nor, as some misogynist commentators have argued, simply writing herself into a life more important than her own. After all, for 51 years, whether they were living close to one another or apart, she edited and, as Sartre himself put it, "filtered" his work, which he dedicated to her (some have ventured that, on occasion, she wrote it too). For 51 years, the conversations between them created ideas, books, and a bond which other passions enraged or enriched, but never altogether ruptured. It was, for De Beauvoir, an experiment in loving of which "existentialism" was the child.

When I was growing up in the 60s, Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre were a model couple, already legendary creatures, rebels with a great many causes, and leaders of what could be called the first postwar youth movement: existentialism - a philosophy that rejected all absolutes and talked of freedom, authenticity, and difficult choices. It had its own music and garb of sophisticated black which looked wonderful against a cafe backdrop. Sartre and De Beauvoir were its Bogart and Bacall, partners in a gloriously modern love affair lived out between jazz club, cafe and writing desk, with forays on to the platforms and streets of protest. Despite being indissolubly united and bound by ideas, they remained unmarried and free to engage openly in any number of relationships. This radical departure from convention seemed breathtaking at the time.

De Beauvoir wrote about this in the autobiography she began to publish in the late 50s, after the scandalous success of her exposé of being female, The Second Sex, and her Goncourt prize-winning novel, The Mandarins, where she chronicles, among much else, her postwar affair with the American novelist Nelson Algren, whom she left in order to return to Sartre, abandoning passion for public responsibility.

De Beauvoir and Sartre met in 1929 when they were both studying for the aggregation in philosophy, the elite French graduate degree. De Beauvoir came second to Sartre's first, though the examiners agreed she was strictly the better philosopher and at the age of 21 the youngest person ever to have sat the exam. But Sartre, the future author of Being and Nothingness, was bold, ingenious, exuberant in his youthful excess, the satirical rebel who shouted, "Thus pissed Zarathustra" as he hurled water bombs out of classroom windows.

Sartre was the pampered son of a widowed mother. Educated in French and German by his pedagogue grandfather, the young Sartre, diminutive, wall-eyed, was corresponding in alexandrines by the age of 10 and something of an outcast at his provincial school. By the time he returned to Paris, he had learned to make up for his physical lacks by the sheer force of his personality. De Beauvoir was captivated by the intensity with which he also listened.

The young Sartre already saw himself as a Don Juan, a seducer who ruptured outworn convention, and whose presence revealed things in their fundamental light. Seduction and writing, he believed, had their source in the same intellectual process.

Late in life, he admitted that he had fantasised a succession of women for himself, each one meaning everything for a given moment. De Beauvoir had astonished him by agreeing to the experiment he had outlined. She accepted the freedom he insisted on and became its custodian.

"What we have," he said early on to De Beauvoir, "is an essential love; but it is a good idea for us also to experience contingent love affairs." Recording Sartre's proposal, De Beauvoir writes: "We were two of a kind, and our relationship would endure as long as we did: but it could not make up entirely for the fleeting riches to be had from encounters with different people."

It is difficult to underestimate the sheer adventurousness of this pact forged in 1929. Particularly on De Beauvoir's side, the break from accepted norms was monumental, as was the social stigma. For De Beauvoir, Sartre seemed only to be repeating what, from her father's example and bourgeois practice, she understood as a male prerogative. What was different about their relationships was that she, the woman, would be equally free to engage in other affairs. Then, too, there was Sartre's important dictum of "transparency" - the vow that they would never lie to each other the way married couples did. They would tell each other everything, share feelings, work, projects.

Yet in this lifelong relationship of supposed equals, he, it turned out, was far more equal than she was. It was he who engaged in countless affairs, to which she responded on only a few occasions with longer-lasting passions of her own. Between the lines of her fiction and what are in effect six volumes of autobiography, it is also evident that De Beauvoir suffered deeply from jealousy. She wanted to keep the image of a model life intact. There were no children. They never shared a house and their sexual relations were more or less over by the end of the war, though for much of their life and certainly at the last, they saw each other daily.

With the posthumous publication in 1988 of her letters to Sartre, a good proportion of them written during the war years when he was at the front and then a prisoner, gaps that were left out of the autobiography are filled in. What the letters express is not only De Beauvoir's overarching love for a man who is never sexually faithful to her, a man she addresses as her "dear little being" and whose work she loyally edits. They also underline the mundanity of De Beauvoir's early accommodation to his wishes, her acceptance of what many women would reject as demeaning, her dependence.

But this dependence is hardly simple or passive. It is a shared attachment from which power also comes - as De Beauvoir, in The Second Sex, shows it does for all women. From early on, Notre-Dame-de-Sartre, as the wits dubbed her, organises the comings and goings of Sartre's "contingent" women; she encourages, consoles, manipulates, and continues to do so until the very end for that loose grouping of friends and exes they called their "family". With a few exceptions, she performs whatever Sartre at the Front asks of her, including finding money for him, or having an affair.

The voyeuristic narration of the details of sexual passion for the other's entertainment, the ups and downs and seamy manoeuvres of these relationships give Sartre and De Beauvoir the aura of a latter-day Valmont and Merteuil, planning and reporting on their dangerous liaisons, analysing assaults and retreats, and deliberating over the propaganda which is to surround them. On top of all this are De Beauvoir's lesbian pursuits and her sharing of Sartre's partners. Bluestocking she might have been, but De Beauvoir was never averse to taking hers off, and then letting Sartre know.

It would be easy to condemn Sartre and De Beauvoir, to dismiss their sex lives as squalid and find therein reason to undermine their intellectual or political projects. This would be to miss the great edifice that De Beauvoir constructed out of their mutual experiment in living; the often gruelling honesty they both brought to bear on each other; and the ways in which the living and changing organism that was their partnership shaped both their philosophical writings and their fiction. It was clear to De Beauvoir that Sartre was a great thinker: thought needed tending. Happiness, that state she claimed she had a talent for, was not the point.

Then, too, there may be another very good reason why De Beauvoir thought her relationship was her greatest achievement. The Second Sex is her encyclopaedic and shocking account of woman's condition as "other" in a world where the norm, with all its overarching and defining power, was male. The book analyses how women have been made over in a world of male descriptions, the contortions performed in order to draw something from the secondary role, the mutilation, the pain. In the experiment of her relationship with Sartre, De Beauvoir took over the power of description. She writes him in and through her life. Maybe that was partly what she meant by her greatest achievement - alongside a generous love, respect and abiding loyalty.

· Lisa Appignanesi's biographical portrait of Simone de Beauvoir is published by Haus on June 21, price £9.99. To order a copy with free UK p&p, call the Guardian Book Service on 0870 836 0875, or go to

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Ma and the two brats - my grandmother with my cousins - Siya and Ketaki Posted by Picasa

Nicole and Rachel - On their last day in India Posted by Picasa

(Not-so-)Little Candy Posted by Picasa
"Madam, you have between your legs an instrument capable of giving pleasure to thousands - and all you can do is scratch it."
- Sir Thomas Beecham
(to a cellist - attributed)

Saturday, August 20, 2005

:) Happy Birthday, Naani! :)

...wish I could go to D'dun and surprise her!
And true... :)

"People who are sensible about love are incapable of it." - Douglas Yates
This way too...

"Love doesn't make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile." - Franklin P. Jones
"Oh, I just wish someone would try to hurt you, so I could kill them for you." - Frank Sinatra

...Love makes me feel this way.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Of festivals...and the thought behind them

Went home after 2 months this time. And, it was wonderful...and, dare I say, (at the risk of sounding like one of those Gucci-bag-toting aunties) "therapeutic". :)

Today's Rakhi a.k.a. Raksha Bandhan. Traditionally, a festival where sisters tie a thread on their brother('s/s') wrist, the idea being that she will always stand by him, and he will always protect her. Nice thought. But, why do people (other than my family...and possibly a few other families...hopefully a lot of other families) not think of this the other way around as well? Saahil has always tied a rakhi on my wrist, like I have on his. Well, why not? I'm older anyway. How in the world would it've worked if I'd needed protecting when he was just a year old?! I could protect him better for sure. And, why's this still interpreted as big-strong-brother protecting small-weak-sister?! I mean...hellooo! Why can't any festival...every understood and interpreted in a nicer, more progressive way? I've always loved Diwali for the lights and the dressing up, Christmas for the well...the Christmassy feeling, the red and green, the holly, the mistletoe, the Christmas trees, Santa, the stockings, the reindeers and the elves...the works...Eid for the luverly food...Easter for the nice chocolate Easter eggs...Dusshera for going to Ram Lila Maidan and seeing Ravan burn, and buying a Hanuman mask...and actually wearing it, and embarassing my brother...Holi...well, not one that I like..havent' played in years...Rakhi for the tradition...for the thought behind tie it to everyone you love...Papa, Mom, Saahil...the dogs (well, they protect you, don't they?!)...everyone who you'd want rallying around you when you needed protecting...
All this makes the whole year so wonderful. It does. There's always some nice holiday coming up. Of course, they're all just leading up to the biggest holiday of the birthday!!! :D (Another 4 months, 2 days to go!)

Festivals aren't about religion. They're about having fun, being together, dressing up, eating good food, drinking lots...and they're about the thought behind them.
"All I really need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt." - Lucy Van Pelt

...An ode to my new-found sweet tooth.

"Sammy" - A word that broke an empire

Watched an excellent play today. Called Sammy.

Written by: Pratap Sharma
Original Music Score: Mahesh Tinaikar
Lighting Designer: Inaayat Ali Khan
Directed by: Lillete Dubey
The Cast:
Joy Sengupta – Mohan Gandhi
Ravi Dubey – Mahatma
Neha Dubey – Kasturba Gandhi
Anu Menon – Sarojini Naidu
Zafar Karachiwala – Jawaharlal Nehru
Vikrant Chatturvedi – Jinnah

That's Joy Sengupta as Gandhi and Neha Dubey as Kastoorba a break of 2 I was saying...

Excellent play! I'd gone for a shoot, and everyone can see the story on Subah Savere tomorrow morning. True, that this was yet another play on Gandhi, but what was wonderful was that it wasn't like "yet another play on Gandhi"! What I liked best about it was that neither were any of the characters black or white, nor was the play. It had everyone's points of view - Gandhi, Nehru, Sarojini Naidu, Kastoorba Gandhi, Gandhi's eldest son (through a scene with Joy and Gandhi's inner voice), Jinnah, and even Nathuram Godse. I just loved that each character had the opportunity to give her/his reasons or explanations to what happened.

Another thing was that the play was so realistic. For once, like Lillete said, Gandhi was not a larger-than-life character who we are only meant to look up to. Instead, he was just an ordinary man, and the play traces the journey of a man who goes from being Mohandas to becoming the Mahatma. I just adored the scenes with Gandhi and Kastoorba. They maybe...intimate...real perhaps. And, Kastoorba's character was given as much emphasis as was Gandhi's. And, it was played wonderfully by Neha. I mean, this character had its own motivations, its own thought process that it goes through. As was Nehru's character, which was done by Zafar Karachiwala. There was this whole growing up in Nehru from being an Oxford returned "dandy" (?!), to being someone who didn't necesarily always agree with Gandhi, but was still inspired by him. Sarojini Naidu's dialogues were just so intelligently written. Anu's character uses words just like a poet like Sarojini would've.

And, in the whole play...there were...5-7 maybe...actors, with some of them playing multiple roles. And, it was so smooth. Full points to the lighting designer too! Also, I loved Zafar's accent as the South African officer! :)

Attn: Anvita
Now, these guys have had about 10 shows in Bombay already, and whenever they have the next one, you HAVE to watch it, woman! Seriously.

Friday, August 12, 2005

"Yes" and "No"

This is something I'd heard on FM many, many years ago. In the days when it used to be "Times FM...yeahhh" :p (I wonder if anyone else remembers the "you're listening to Times FM...yeahhh" was HILARIOUS!)

I think it's very quaint and a little silly...and also kinda sweet in a way...
Found it written in an o-o-old diary of mine.

What I believe is that all girls should know,
When to say "yes" and when to say "no".
There are no textbooks and there are no rules,
The subject is neglected in orthodox schools.
"Yes" to flowers, "Yes" to a dance,
"Yes" to a flirt straight from France.
"Yes" to a walk in the beautiful rain,
"Yes" if he wants a chance to explain.
"No" to slacks unless you are thin,
"No" to an impulse to telephone him.
"Yes" to a Saturday, "No" to a Monday,
"Yes" to a salad, "No" to a sundae.
"No" to him if he has a wife,
"Yes" if you want him for the rest of your life.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Broken! Broken! Broken! Broken! Broken!

I'm now convinced that there's something wrong with my left leg! Have an almost constant horrible hollow ache. It pains when I walk. It pains when I sit. It pains when I lie down.


Sunday, August 07, 2005

Skype me!

Something that EVERYONE should get! Correction: Must get!

Skype rocks! You can make PC-to-PC calls to any Skype user, as well as on normal telephones (...for which you need to buy a calling card though). Talked to Saahil all afternoon, and then to Arvind (...though there, only I talked, since the idiot doesn't have a mic!) :) And, it's so awesomely crystal clear!! YAY!!

My name on Skype is "aanchaltyagi". Add me as soon as you get it.

You can download Skype from here.

Today's mood: Broken!

Got a b-a-a-a-a-d bodyache. Have had it for the last 2 days or so. Gonna have a Cetzine and s-l-e-e-e-e-e-p tonight. Write more tomorrow.

Hope Xena's sleepy too. Otherwise, will have to lock her up somewhere if I want to sleep without having my toes chewed off by morning.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Starry Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh and Don Mc Lean

June 1889 (210 Kb); Oil on Canvas, 72 x 92 cm (29 x 36 1/4 in); The Museum of Modern Art, New York

The Starry Night was completed near the mental asylum of Saint-Remy, 13 months before Van Gogh's death at the age of 37. Vincent's mental instability is legend. He attempted to take Paul Gaughin's life and later committed himself to several asylums in hopes of an unrealized cure.

Van Gogh painted furiously and The Starry Night vibrates with rockets of burning yellow while planets gyrate like cartwheels. The hills quake and heave, yet the cosmic gold fireworks that swirl against the blue sky are somehow restful.

This painting is probably the most popular of Vincent's works.

Don Mc Lean's lyrics:

starry night
paint your palette blue and grey
look out on a summer's day
with eyes that know the
darkness in my soul.

Shadows on the hills
sketch the trees and the daffodils
catch the breeze and the winter chills
in colors on the snowy linen land.

And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.

They would not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.

starry night
flaming flo'rs that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in
Vincent's eyes of China blue.

Colors changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's
loving hand.

And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.

They did not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you
but still your love was true
and when no hope was left in sight on that starry
starry night.
You took your life
as lovers often do;
But I could have told you
this world was never
meant for one
as beautiful as you.

starry night
portraits hung in empty halls
frameless heads on nameless walls
with eyes
that watch the world and can't forget.

Like the stranger that you've met
the ragged men in ragged clothes
the silver thorn of bloddy rose
lie crushed and broken
on the virgin snow.

And now I think I know what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
they're not
list'ning still
perhaps they never will...

The words and imagery of this song represent the life, work and death of Vincent Van Gogh. "A Starry Night" is one of the Dutch impressionist's most famous paintings.

The lyrics "paint your palette blue and gray" reflect the prominent colors of the painting. The "ragged men in ragged clothes" and "how you tried to set them free" refer to Van Gogh's humanitarian activities and love of the socially outcast as also reflected in his paintings and drawings. "They would not listen/They did not know how" refers to Van Gogh's family and some associates who were critical of his kindness to "the wretched." "How you suffered for your sanity" refers to the schizophrenic disorder from which Van Gogh suffered.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Yaad by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Dasht-e-tanhaai mein ae jaan-e-jahaan
larzan hain
teri awaaz ke saa'e, tere honton ke
dasht-e-tanhaai mein doori ke
khas-o khak ta'le
khil rahe hain, tere paihloo ke
saman aur gulab

uth rahi hai kahin qurbat se teri
saans ki aanch
apni khushboo mein sulagti hui
madham madham
door ufaq par, chamakti hui qatrah
gir rahi hai teri dildar nazar ki

is qadar pyaar se, ae jaan-e-jahaan
rakha hai
dil ke rukhsaar pe is waqt teri yaad ne
yoon gumaan hota hai, garche'h hai
abhi subh-e firaq
dhal gaya hij'r ka din, aa hi gayi vas'l
ki raat

Friday, July 29, 2005

Today's mood: Happy!

Talked to Mom last night...about the crabbiness...and what she says is right...I'm surprised I didn't think of it myself...
Why do I mostly expect everyone I know to be on the same wavelength as me? Why don't I feel great about all the really nice people and things at work (and around me) and forget about the rest...and just get my job done? I'm over all the crabbiness anyway. Knew I'd get over it soon enough. Think I'll just blame the "cultural shock".

Had a nice time this evening. :)

Today's mood: Happy...and it's staying this way now. :)

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

A Strange Problem by Kunwar Narain

Got my salary today! And just treated myself to a subscription to The Little Magazine.

Was reading the online edition just now, and read this poem which I think is really nice. It's been translated from Hindi by Pratik Kanjilal, and was originally written by Kunwar Narain.

I have a strange problem these days —
The power to hate with all my heart
Is ebbing by the day

I want to hate the English
(They ruled us for two centuries)
But Shakespeare sidles up
To whom I owe so much

I want to hate the Muslims
But Ghalib stands before me
Tell me, is it possible to stand up
To him?

I want to hate the Sikhs
And Guru Nanak fills my vision
And my head is bowed

And this Kamban, this Thyagaraja, this
A hundred thousand times I tell myself
They are not mine
They’re from some place far South
But the heart does not rest
Till they are made mine

And that lover
Who betrayed me the first time
I’d as soon kill her as look at her!
I do see her, but
Sometimes she is a friend
Sometimes a mother
Often like a sister
And I drink from the cup of love, and am still

All my days
I wander like a madman
In search of someone I can
Hate with all my heart
And ease it for a while

But precisely the opposite happens
Somewhere, sometime
I find someone
I cannot help but love

Day by day, this disease of love is growing
Rooted firmly in the fantasy
That one day my love
Will show me Paradise

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Today's mood: Crabby

Long time since I wrote. Have been trying to, but just can't somehow. Put this new thing on my blog called "Today's Mood". Quite cool, I think. Today, I'm crabby. Actually, wasn't in the morning. These days I get crabby as soon as I reach office. I keep telling myself on the rickshaw ride to work that I won't let things get to me today, but I still end up getting all bugged. And no, it's not really the work. (Though, I wish the film would take off quickly.) It's more the people, and the constant sarcasm and the sexist jokes. No, the jokes don't happen when I'm there, but they do go on all the time, and...oh, it's SO IRRITATING!

Although (clarification needed), it's not everyone. It's just a couple of people. The rest are nice. Really nice.

I know I gotta do something. Just don't know what.

In the meanwhile...for some reason, been thinking of these lines all day...

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

- William Blake

Monday, July 25, 2005

I tag you, River!

That bugging questionnaire I was tagged with...well, I'd tagged Gourav, but he still doesn't have a blog...hence...
You're tagged, River!

Which Emoticon Are You?

Aanchal, the emoticon that represents you best is the Smiling Face

What's up, smiley? Somehow you just always seem to find a way to turn that frown upside down. Your upbeat attitude and friendly demeanor brighten up any room, including your favorite chat room.

Like your classic emoticon counterpart, you're a staple on anyone's list. Boring days and sleepless nights are far more bearable when you're online to chat. Whether you're shooting the breeze, catching up, or giving out advice, you can cheer up anyone on the other side of the conversation. So keep lightening the mood, making new friends, and bringing smiles to other folks' faces. After all, it's just so natural for you!

Friday, July 22, 2005

Papa's Birthday Present

Yes, this is it! The famous gramophone that Saahil and I got Papa for his birthday!

Thanks, Anvita and Tanzila...for trekking through Chandani Chowk and Dariba Bazaar hunting for an actual antique piece...and not the "new antiques" that you get at Janpath. :)


Mom (caught mid-sentence), me and the Brat (posing as always!).


And while I'm at's me with the Brat.


Yours truly with the newest blogger in Dad! :)

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Post Script to the last post:

Papa, you got a blog too now. Welcome, blogger! And, you're tagged! :-D

My Dad's blog, ladies and gentlemen... The Travels and Adventures of Thor.

Monday, July 18, 2005


I was tagged by here goes...and remember what it said on your going away party cake?...that's what you are, woman!

Three names I go by:
  1. Aanchal
  2. Ant (??!!)
  3. Her Royal Airness (...due to the famous "airhead mode")

Three screen names:
  1. Aanchal
  2. Aanchal Tyagi
  3. Magic (I know, I know...dumb screen my defence...I was 15!!)

Three things I like about myself:
  1. That I'm so much like Mom.
  2. That I'm nice to people...mostly.
  3. That I'm quite intelligent, and can be rather good at whatever I set my mind to (...except at maths, physics and chemistry!).

Three things I don't like about myself:
  1. Lazy
  2. Impatient with people who act/are stupid (...and yes, Anvita...I kinda like that about myself too).
  3. That I can't really talk with someone I've just met

Three things that scare me:
  1. Horror films...and they scare me not just in the way that they scare most people...they freak me out..for years!!
  2. That my computer will crash one day, and I'll have no back-up!
  3. Fire

Three essentials:
  1. A wonderful I've had.
  2. Hope.
  3. A top-of-the-line computer with high-speed internet.

Three things I like in the opposite sex:
  1. The fact that it is the "opposite" sex.
  2. Lesser hang-ups about supposed morality.
  3. Simple minds. Ha! Ha! Ha! *evil laughter*

Three things I want to do badly right now:
  1. Write an amazing screenplay.
  2. Go home for a few days.
  3. Go on a really nice holiday...maybe to Kanataal.

Three careers I'm considering right now:
  1. A film-maker.
  2. An editor.
  3. ...and that's it...more the first option anyway.

Three places I'd love to go on vacation:
  1. Morocco
  2. Europe (...all of it...kinda makes answering this question easier!)
  3. Kerala

Three kids' names I like and why:
  1. Mihika
  2. Kaahini (Anvita, that's what happens when you tell people! Ha!)
  3. Ankush
...because all three sound lovely and/or mean lovely things.

Three things to do before dying:
  1. Stay happy, love, and be loved...always.
  2. Make films.
  3. Bring up great kids ( my parents did!)

Three people to get to do this wonderful questionnaire:
  1. Arvind
  2. Papa...but he doesn't have a blog yet.
  3. Gourav...and he doesn't have a blog either.

Finished! Whew!!

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Sehar - Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Kabir Kaushik

Met Kabir Kaushik this evening. He's the director of Sehar. Interesting guy...really. The film ought to be nice. And it's got quite an impressive cast - Pankaj Kapoor, Suhasini Mulay, Arshad Warsi and Sushant Singh. Mahima Chaudhary too. Releasing on the 29th of July.

What I like a lot about Kabir (and, by default, about Sehar as well) is that the name of the film's been taken from one of my favourite poems of Faiz. And this poem is also a part of the film...which just makes the film even better. This poem's called Subh-e-aazaadi, and Faiz had written it in August 1947. Here it is...

ye daaG daaG ujaalaa, ye shab_gaziidaa sahar
wo intazaar thaa jis kaa, ye wo sahar to nahii.n

ye wo sahar to nahii.n jis kii aarazuu lekar
chale the yaar ki mil jaayegii kahii.n na kahii.n
falak ke dasht me.n taro.n kii aaKharii ma.nzil
kahii.n to hogaa shab-e-sust mauj kaa saahil
kahii.n to jaa ke rukegaa safinaa-e-Gam-e-dil
jawaa.N lahuu kii pur-asaraar shaaharaaho.n se
chale jo yaar to daaman pe kitane haath pa.De
dayaar-e-husn kii be-sabr Khwaab-gaaho.n se
pukaratii rahii.n baahe.n, badan bulaate rahe
bahut aziiz thii lekin ruKh-e-sahar kii lagan
bahut qarii.n thaa hasiinaan-e-nuur kaa daaman
subuk subuk thii tamannaa, dabii dabii thii thakan

sunaa hai ho bhii chukaa hai firaq-e-zulmat-e-nuur
sunaa hai ho bhii chukaa hai wisaal-e-ma.nzil-o-gaam
badal chukaa hai bahut ahl-e-dard kaa dastuur
nishaat-e-wasl halaal-o-azaab-e-hijr-e-haraam
jigar kii aag, nazar kii, dil kii jalan
kisii pe chaaraa-e-hijraa.N kaa kuchh asar hii nahii.n
kahaa.N se aaii nigaar-e-sabaa, kidhar ko gaii
abhii chiraaG-e-sar-e-rah ko kuchh Khabar hii nahii.n
abhii garaani-e-shab me.n kamii nahii.n aaii
najaat-e-diida-o-dil kii gha.Dii nahii.n aaii
chale chalo ki wo ma.nzil abhii nahii.n aaii

What really angers me right now is this review...
"Pankaj Kapoor lends his atmospheric voice to "Faiz". The whole piece may only be a minute long but it is effectively powerful and very striking. Kapoor breathes life into Swanand Kirkire´s Urdu words, "Yeh daag daag ujaala, yeh shabgazeeda sehar...” After his picturesque words for"Parineeta", Kirkire is emerging as a very promising lyricist."

Some idiot called Shahid Khan thinks he's qualified enough to review an album, and he isn't aware that "Faiz" is actually Faiz Ahmed Faiz - the man who wrote "Yeh daag daag ujaala, yeh shabgazeeda sehar...", and which, by inference, WASN'T written by Swanand Kirkire!

Here, I'd like to I'd said in this post...
"about 90% of all people are plain stupid, and one should get around their stupidities and get one's own work done."
I believe that, but this still makes my blood boil!

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Bol Ke Lab Aazaad Hain Tere by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Ayodhya attack: Six terrorists killed
Tuesday, July 5, 2005 (Ayodhya):

Six terrorists today made an abortive attempt to storm the high-security Ram Janmabhoomi complex in Ayodhya.

All six of them were shot dead in a one and a-half hour encounter with the security forces guarding the complex.

There has been no damage to the make-shift shrine at the religious site.

The attackers had hired a taxi on the pretext of doing sight seeing around Ayodhya. Once in the car, they forced the driver away from the wheel and took control.

Breaching the wall

The driver, hired by the terrorists, is alive and has been arrested. He told the police that the terrorists had claimed to be tourists and even prayed at a temple before the attack.

On reaching the temple complex, one of the terrorists drove an explosives-laden jeep to the outer fence and blew up the jeep and himself. The other five then ran in firing their guns and setting off grenades.

They stopped by the security personnel at the Sita Rasoi, outside the periphery of the disputed site. The CRPF engaged the militants in a gunbattle, at the end of which all six militants were killed.

"After the blast, there was an opening through which the terrorists entered. That is when the CRPF got alert and retaliated," said Jyoti Kumar Sinha, director general, CRPF.

One unidentified person was killed in the crossfire while three security personnel were injured.

The terrorists were carrying AK 47s and grenades. The bomb-disposal squads called in to comb the area found rocket launchers as well. The CRPF, which led the operation, says one of the dead militants was a human bomb.

Late in the evening, police found another jeep hired by the terrorists to travel from Akbarpur to Faizabad. The driver has been arrested.

Cabinet meet

Later the Union Home Minister Shivraj Patil briefed the Union Cabinet on the terrorist attack in Ayodhya.

Intelligence reports so far indicate that Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) could be behind the attack.

In view of the incident, a red alert has been sounded in state capitals across the country.

This is the first terrorist attack on the disputed complex, since the makeshift temple came up after the demolition of Babri masjid in December 1992.

Locals calm

However, the real eye opener after today’s attack was the attitude of the people of Ayodhya, where not one communal clash was reported.

Shops and small businesses were open as usual - a sign perhaps that the people of the town can be more level-headed than many of our political parties.

So said today's news...

So, the locals are calm. Why then would the BJP want to call a "nation-wide protest against the terrorist attack"?! Political motivations I understand...but not an IOTA of integrity either? What the hell are they thinking?!! WHY in the world would they get the whole country into something that's thankfully (for once!) not been made into a queston of religion...yet?!! Why can't these men, of the RSS and the BJP, think of the country...just for once?!!

bol ke lab aazaad hai.n tere
bol zabaa.N ab tak terii hai
teraa sutawaa.N jism hai teraa
bol ki jaa.N ab tak terii hai
dekh ke aaha.ngar kii dukaa.N me.n
tu.nd hai.n shole surKh hai aahan
khulane lage quffalo.n ke dahaane
phailaa har ek zanjiir kaa daaman
bol ye tho.Daa waqt bahot hai
jism-o-zabaa.N kii maut se pahale
bol ki sach zi.ndaa hai abb tak
bol jo kuchh kahane hai kah le

[sutawaa.N=well built; aaha.ngar=blacksmith; tu.nd=sharp (here it means bright);]
[aaha.ngar=black-smith; quffalo.n ke dahaane=keyhole]

Monday, July 04, 2005

I'm Only A Cat

I'm only a cat,
and I stay in my place...
Up there on your chair,
on your bed or your face!

I'm only a cat,
and I don't finick much...
I'm happy with cream
and anchovies and such!

I'm only a cat,
and we'll get along fine...
As long as you know
I'm not yours... you're all mine!

Author Unknown

Sunday, July 03, 2005

I got me a lil kitten!

Yes, I did!

She's two months old, and her name is Xena. Got her today from these lovely people in Lodhi Colony, whose son had brought home a tiny little orphan kitten from his college in Jalandhar. I'd called Frendicoes, and they gave me the number of this guy. So, I went right over and got her home.

She reached home, got out of the box and started exploring my whole house... crouching and jumping up at imaginary things...hunting imaginary prey...hence, the name...Xena, the Warrior Princess.

She's adorable! Refuses to sleep in her basket, and insists on sleeping either on my bed, or in my lap (...or on my stomach, if I'm sleeping too). She prowls around and hunts imaginary prey all day, plays with her toys, sleeps and eats. And if I'm sitting at the computer, and she's sleepy (...and should ordinarily be sleeping on MY bed!), she comes up to me, starts hitting me with her paw and meowing to tell me to pick her up...or she just jumps up onto my lap...and goes to sleep comfortably! (That's what she's doing in the picture.) Really, really cute!

I'll have someone to come home to now...

Though, Anvita won't be visiting me anymore...! ;-D

Saturday, July 02, 2005

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

- W.H. Auden

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

"Buddhism is against homosexuality. But I am not. I believe that if there is love, compassion and consent, then it is alright. I don't see sex as a means of procreation and reproduction." - Dalai Lama

I have a dream - ABBA

Here's to you, Arvind...

I have a dream,
a song to sing.
If you see the wonder of a fairytale,
you can take the future even if you fail.
I believe in angels,
something good in everything I see.
When I know the right time,
I'll cross the street.
I have a dream,
a fantasy,
to help me
through reality.
My destination makes it worth the while,
to push against the darkness another night.
I have a dream...


When We Fail

What are we going to do when we fail. When we find the wrong kind of tears running down our cheeks. When we look at our gods and see mortals instead. When the sports page reads like an obituary. When we know others are celebrating our grief. What are we going to do when we fail. We're going to look up from our toes. And into the sun. Without flinching. We're going to walk out there alone. Again. Grit our teeth. Take guard. And wait for the next ball.

At the university of life, admission is open to all. All I need is my mind. Clever to pick up lessons. Smart to learn from mistakes. To things I have to learn. To things life has to teach.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Love is a luxury

"How can a need be love? Love is a luxury. It is abundance. It is having so much life that you don't know what to do with it, so you share. It is having so many songs in your heart that you have to sing them - whether anybody listens or not is irrelevant." - Osho

Beautiful, isn't it? And, so true!

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Did Someone Say "Babies"? by Ogden Nash

Have another address too now... I also post stuff here...
Mashaalein or The Tungsten Torture

Here, though, will be posting stuff that I read here and there...and like, or have liked...

Today, the aforementioned "here and there" would be the new book I bought this evening...
Candy is Dandy - The Best of Ogden Nash

Posted something out of this on Mashaalein, and putting another one that I like here...
Go read First Child...Second Child by Ogden Nash on Mashaalein...

Did Someone Say "Babies"? (This one's for you, Anvita.)

Everybody who has a baby thinks everybody who hasn't a baby ought to have a baby,
Which accounts for the success of such plays as the Irish Rose of Abie,
The idea apparently being that just by being fruitful
You are doing something beautiful,
Which if it is true
Means that the common housefly is several times more beautiful than me or you.
Who is responsible for this propaganda that fills our houses from their attics to their kitchens?
Is it the perambulator trust or the safety pin manufacturers or the census takers or the obstetricians?
Men and women everywhere would have a lot more chance of acquiring recreation and fame and financial independence
If they didn't have to spend most of their time and money tending and supporting two or three unattractive descendants.
We could soon upset this kettle of fish, forsooth,
If every adult would only come out and tell every other adult the truth.
To arms, adults! Kindle the beacon fires!
Women, do you want to be nothing but dams? Men, do you want to be nothing but sires?
To arms, Mr. President! Call out the army, the navy, the marines, the militia, the cadets and the middies.
Down with the kiddies!

Friday, June 03, 2005

My new movies!! :-D

:-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D :-D

Here's a list of the movies I have now... (Hah, bitter liar!)

  • 21 Grams
  • 8 Mile
  • A Beautiful Mind
  • A bout de Souffle
  • A Street Car Named Desire
  • Almost Famous
  • American History X
  • As Good As It Gets
  • Before Sunrise
  • Being Julia
  • Big Fish
  • Blade Runner
  • Bound
  • Brazil
  • Cast Away
  • China Town
  • Collateral
  • Diarios de Motocicleta (The Motorcycle Diaries)
  • Dog Day Afternoon
  • Enemy at the Gates
  • Erin Brockovich
  • Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
  • Finding Neverland
  • Forrest Gump
  • Garden State
  • Girl with a Pearl Earring
  • Guns of Navarrone
  • Godfather I
  • Godfather II
  • Godfather III
  • Hero
  • Hombre
  • Il Postino
  • In the Name of the Father
  • JFK
  • Ju On
  • LA Confidential
  • Last of the Mohicans
  • Life is Beautiful
  • Los Lunes al Sol
  • Memento
  • My Sassy Girl
  • Nuovo Cinema Paradiso
  • On the Waterfront
  • Ong Bak
  • Requiem for a Dream
  • Rosemary's Baby
  • Schindler's List
  • Seven Samurai
  • Sideways
  • Straw Dogs
  • The Aviator
  • The Ghost and the Darkness
  • The Matrix
  • The Matrix - Reloaded
  • The Matrix - Revolutions
  • The Mona Lisa Smile
  • The Shawshank Redemption
  • The Usual Suspects
  • Tootsie
  • Vera Drake
...and many more coming...soon! Hah!

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

First the bimbo starlets, and now a filmi couple...

Was witness to a hilarious thing this morning! Just had to post it here (which is why am writing again in the middle of a work day, Anvita!).

Was out on a shoot today doing a story on summer fashions and trends in women's clothing for tomorrow morning's show. Was shooting a segment in Benetton (Sector 18), and while my cameraman was taking cut-aways, I was keeping myself busy trying to line up a few assorted shoppers to talk to the camera about what they like to wear in summers. So, saw this girl enter with a guy and they were checking about the usual hip-hop-kinda-factory-bulk-made-kinda-clothes-that-I-hate... just the kind of people I wanted! So I went up to this girl and started to explain where we're from, etc. Gave her the usual about breakfast show on DD-1, etc. And, while I'm explaining to her, at the back of my mind I'm thinking why the hell is she looking so distracted when I'm talking to her. The guy keeps nodding and saying "Yeh" ("Yeh" = an over-accented simple "yeah"!) over and over again. So finally, I say to her...
Me: So, can we talk to you on the camera for a minute?
She: (Looks dumbstruck)
He: Yeh.
Me: It'll just take a minute.
She: (Still looking dumbstruck)
He: Yeh. Yeh. She'll do it.
Me: Ummm... (trying to gesture towards the camera)
She: ON THE CAMERA???!!! (Looking horrified now. Finally a change of expression!)
Me: Yeah... (?!)
She: No, no, no... I'm not doing that...
He: Arre, do it na... (to me) she'll do it.
Me: (Looking from one to the other...quite like in a tennis match)
She: NO!
He: Arre, I won't be on the camera. You could be with girls. Kisi ko pata nahin chalega.
Me: (Beginning to find this hugely amusing)
She: NO! (To me) I can't do it.
He: (Looks at me helplessly)
Me: (Wait for them to run up the stairs and out of the showroom, and then break into a grin)

It was unbelievably crazy! I'm now resigned to the fact that I can expect to see strange things almost everyday at this job. First the bimbo starlets, and now a filmi couple who've apparently lied to everyone about where and with whom they are.

I so hope the girl's parents aren't reading this! Actually, I hope they are. That should be funnier still.

Over and out...for now.


Am up early. Gourav's gonna be here in an hour or so. And I'm waiting desperately. Not for him really. For the hard disk.

Rajjat - can I say it again? Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I am now the proud owner of a copy of Nuovo Cinema Paradiso (!!), which I've been looking for for just about ages. Actually, am the proud owner of that and so many more awesome movies! Will be putting up a list later tonight.

Anvita (and the rest) - Eat your heart out! Hah!
Read a blog a couple of days ago.

Followed a link on synchroni-cities, and reached the Duck of Destiny's blog. I think it's really good, and read it you should. Hey! Whaddya know! I'm a poet! You know...
"I think it's really good,
and read it you should."

Back...after a hiatus

Been busy. My film's taking some time to start, so have been relocated to the Subeh Savere team for the time being. Been busy shooting mainly for a segment called "Entertainment Savere".

Realized that I need a lot of patience to cope with this job. Went for a press meet for a new film called Men Not Allowed (!!) last evening. Now this film is another one in the deluge of "bold" films. Another one about lesbianism...hence, the title. The interviews, of course, just about killed me! There were these two starlet-types, one of whom kept talking about her character in the film being "normal" before she becomes a lesbian, and why that happens...bad experiences with men, of course. This one was Payal Rohatgi, who I'd never heard of before this shoot, but who claims she's done a lot of hugely successful films (!!). The other one, some Tina Majumdar, had "mummy-ji" along, who was acting more like her pimp than her mother/agent. The producers of this film are this group of sleazy looking men, and you really can't tell which one is sleazier than the next. So, all in all, it was horrendous!

Looking forward to tomorrow though. Gonna interview one of my "heroes". Javed Akhtar! Yay!!

Shabana Azmi's gonna be there as well. But then, as Anvita put it a little while ago, she's just what you'd call "hoity-toity"! Hehehehe... That's so EXACTLY what you'd call her, Anvita! And, I'm not negating her intelligence here...but she IS "hoity-toity", isn't she?!

For some unexplicable reason, just did a search on the latest lesbian love-story and found one review, the last paragraph of which is completely hilarious...
"Promising that his movie will not be a cheap and sleazy film, Shrivastava says that although the movie will have some explicit scenes between the two belles, but it will be shown in a graceful manner on the screen."

Anyway, moving ahead...

Everything else is good. Work's fun actually. But, very easy. That's frustrating, in a way. Hoping that my film starts soon.

Cooked in the evening today after a long time. Bought bhindi on my way home, made it with the more elaborate recipe, remembered I hadn't told the maid to make parathas in the morning, so was gonna take out aata, when I saw that, well, I had none! Just ordered biryani from that place close by. So there!
...Dunno why I felt like saying "so there"!

Wish I could write more. Will try to write at least every other day from now on. Hasn't been that long since I started writing here, but have noticed that I start getting withdrawal symptoms pretty soon after I stop getting time to write.

Nothing else to say today...except...just a few last thoughts...
  • Arvind, you haven't written in ages! Write! You're happy write! :-D
  • Anvita, talked to you thrice today, but forgot to ask all three times...why were you "a little sad" last night?
  • All the people who read this (actually, those among you who I know!)... Bunty aur Babli this Saturday?
  • I just bought M.M. Kaye's The Far Pavilions. It seems good.
  • I think everyone who lives in Delhi, especially everyone who likes the city, should read William Dalrymple's City of Djinns. I just love it! Thank you again, Juhi and The Lil' One.
  • I'm done, and I think this writing in points thing I just did is strange.

Friday, May 20, 2005

Kuchh ishq kiya, kuchh kaam kiya/Some Love, Some Work - by Faiz Ahmed Faiz

woh log bahut khush kismat thay
jo ishq ko kaam samajhte thay
ya kaam se aashiqui karte thay
ham jite'ji mashroof rahe
kuchh ishq kiya, kuchh kaam kiya
kaam ishq ke aa're aata raha
aur ishq se kaam ulajhta raha
phir aakhir tang aakar ham ne
dono ko adhoora chhor diya

Fortunate indeed were those
who took love as their business
or were in love with whatever they did.
I remained busy my whole life--
some love, some work.
Work came in the way of love
and love often impeded work.
Then, finally, in disgust, giving it all up,
I forsook them both, half done.

I like Shiv K Kumar's translations of Faiz's work. He's pretty good. One of the reviews (from The Siasat) says: "What Edward Fitzgerald is to Omar Khayyam, Shiv K Kumar is to Faiz Ahmed Faiz...".

But, more than the transaltions, of course, I love Faiz's work. His poems are so articulate and, at the same time, so poetic and beautiful.

This one, for example, is just so amazing in the way he's made such a commonplace subject sound so militant and poetic, and beautiful...


Ye galiyon ke awaara bekaar kutte
ke bakhsha gaya jin ko zauq-e'-gadaai
zamaane ki phitkar sarma'yah unka
jahaan bhar ki dhutkaar unki kamaai
na aaraam shab ko na raahat savere
ghilazat mein ghar, naaliyon mein basere
jo bighrein to ek doosre se lara do
zara ek roti ka tukra dikha do
ye har ek ki thokarein khaane wale
ye faaqon se ukta marjaane wale

ye mazloom makhlooq gar sar uthaae
to insaan sab sarkashi bhool jaaye
ye chaahein to duniya ko apna bana lein
ye aaqa'on ki haddiyan tak chaba lein
ko inko ehsas-e'-zillat dila de
koi inki soi hui dum hila de

The translation- for the many who don't understand urdu...


Tramping about the streets aimlessly, these dogs,
born to the prerogative of beggary--
their only treasure is the world's scorn
their only wages, the world's reproof.

Not a moment's respite, day or night--
dirt their abode, drains their rest-houses.

If roused, they may be set one against the other,
just dangle before them a morsel of bread--
they who suffer everybody's kicks,
who'd tire and die of starvation.

If these destitutes were ever stirred up,
man would forget his imperiousness.
If only they willed, they'd reign supreme
for they could chew up even the bones of their masters.

All this--
if only someone would awaken them to their ignominy,
shake their sagging tails
to action!

Isn't it strange how some people can write like this?! I think it is.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

In Your Ocean Eyes

The fringe of day, dusk
where the two hours of time meet--
neither night nor day, neither today nor tomorrow.
One moment eternal, another just smoke--
on this day's fringe, for a moment or two
the fervour of lips,
the ardour of arms,
this union of ours, neither true nor false.
Why say a false thing
when in your ocean eyes
will sink this evening's sun?
Then everyone will sleep blissfully in his house
and the traveller will wend his way.

This is a translation of Faiz's 'teri samandar aankhon mein' by Shiv K Kumar.

Woohoo!! Yippee!! ...and all the rest of it...!

Back after a short break. And, I'm posting from home this time. Just got my internet connection done. And it's just SO FAST!! Woohoo!! Yippee!! ...and all the rest of it...!

Was out on a shoot yesterday, so didn't post anything. Getting quite used to writing here. Almost start getting withdrawal symptoms the day I don't. Have realised that writing a blog is strangely fulfilling.

Went to the Italian Cultural Centre yesterday. I was there for a shoot, and there was a really good film on - Padre Padrone. Called Anvita for the film as well. We didn't watch too much of the film though. Saw about half an hour of it, i.e. - until my hunger overtook our desire to watch kids having sex with chickens, sheep and donkeys. So, we went to the horrendously expensive cafe at the Italian Cultural Centre and sat there and talked (while I ate a horrendously expensive pizza!).

We talked about what Padmini, Anvita and I were talking about the night that they stayed over after the house warming party. That, about 90% of all people are plain stupid, and one should get around their stupidities and get one's own work done. This, I think, is the premise everyone should live by.

Now, I'm not saying that 90% of all people ARE stupid. Maybe they are, maybe they aren't. But, let's just assume they are...for the betterment of ourselves and for our peace of mind. How, you ask?

Well, I've seen this work, that's how. Believing this proposition makes life easier. And better. And healthier. Healthier beacause you don't lose your temper, don't get impatient, don't suddenly start thinking about HOW and WHY so-and-so can be that stupid! By believing this proposition, you start out by thinking - ok, so this person's stupid. Let me give her/him a chance, otherwise I'll do it myself. Isn't this better? You completely bypass the hours, or maybe even days, of frustration and anxiety...and anger.

My peace of mind is very important to me. That's why I like to believe that - "about 90% of all people are plain stupid, and one should get around their stupidities and get one's own work done."