space of my own

A whole new world

2008-07-09T00:58:00.012-08:00

I am of the opinion that as an outsider you take a closer look at a city than you would as an insider.

21 years in Ahmedabad v/s just 3 years in Pune. I think I can talk more about the later than the former - not a fact that I’m particularly proud about. So last week, with the hope of knowing more about my city, I took a heritage walk in the old city of Ahmedabad.

Organized by the Gujarat government, this walk takes you through the labyrinth corners of the vicinity where the city originated. In these lanes, time stands still and each building narrates the story of the grandeur of the bygone era.

We started with the house of Kavi Dalpatram. This bronze statue sits at the entrance.

The two hour walk takes you through various ‘pols’ – the self-contained neighbourhoods, some of which are virtually small villages. In olden days, these pols were protected by gates and secret passages.

An old woodden door that caught my eye

Today, when you walk through its narrow streets, you cannot help standing in awe before these architectural wonders.

A traditional bird-feeder known as a 'chabutara'

These carved out pieces that adorn every house here bear the influence of various cultures. While the floral pattern is a Persian influence, the presence of angels is very European.

This one bears a chinese influence

And then you enter these Jain temples where gods carved out from wood some 400 years ago still retain their luster and glory!

Some pics taken from outside the temple

Inside a particular house, it looks just like a ‘chal’, only that it’s bigger and grander. Some of these houses still accommodate huge Jain families (some 80-100 people).

In those days, it was a matter of pride for the family members that their girl child is educated. They'd place such small statues on the main door to indicate that.

Amidst these lanes also lies the tomb of the man who built this city – Ahmad Shah. (He was only 20 when he built it!) The intricate designs on the walls that surround it are beautifully carved out.

The city was systematically divided. There was the residential area called pols and the commercial area called ols. The markets of the old city are still the biggest markets in Ahmedabad and here you’ll find every damn thing you have on your list!

A banner with a typo that caught my attention

The walk ended at the Jama Masjid. It was the first time I entered a mosque and the feeling was overwhelming. The huge central area is surrounded by walls where some urdu words are painted.

The central area

The soothing Urdu script

To say that the central dome is a work of beauty would be an understatement. The 500+ pillars within the mosque give rise to an interesting play of shadow and light. I just had to close my eyes and say ‘Allah’ in my heart to feel one with Him.

One of my favourite pics from the day

I wondered, how many people know this facet of Ahmedabad. How many even care to? And as I type this I wonder if it would be fair to even call it the old city. In those couple of hours, what I discovered was a complete new city.

Shaival and me :)

Thanks Shaival for your wonderful company. Thanks Om for helping me out in posting the pictures.
P.S. - You can see some beautiful pictures of Ahmedabad pols here.

The first mistake

2008-06-30T23:09:00.002-08:00

A little mistake and everything goes for a toss. All the goodwill that you've earned washes away in a nano-second. You look at yourself and ask, 'how the hell didn't i notice that mistake'. They look at you and say, 'we didn't expect this from you'. So what are you supposed to do. Say sorry is the first thing that comes to mind but that doesn't solve anything. Next you accept your mistake and promise that such a thing wouldn't happen again. Peace enters the room but you just can't come over the fact that you missed that silly mistake. The clean slate you had all this while shows a mark. And no matter how small it is, its so evident. It's right there, in front of you.

Damn...how could i miss that.

Artistic Expressions

2008-06-07T02:31:00.008-08:00

And i thought candle light dinners were supposed to be romantic! :)

I wonder what the visualiser must have thought of when he selected this particular font for 'candle light dinner.' Let me guess - Is he afraid of the dark? Did he watch a horror movie before making this layout? Or did he simply remember the first time he went out for a candle light dinner with his girlfriend, which turned out to be a horrifying experience?

Whatever be the reason, the point is the right font makes all the difference!

Something's missing

2008-05-26T21:06:00.000-08:00

6.20 p.m. and she was done with her work. She left the air-conditioned office and headed home. Hot and humid air awaited her outdoors. The sun was still shining and she could see the colour of the buildings, rather than the grayish shades that they put on later in the eve. It looked like a different world.

She got into the car and started her drive. 5 radio stations. Not a single one played a good song. Every two seconds, her finger kept pressing the next button, cursing the producer who didn’t think twice before playing that awful number on such a beautiful evening. Luckily she found a CD to her rescue. An old favourite calmed her restless soul.

Nothing could replicate the magic of old songs, she thought. There was meaning in every word that was written. The music was such that generations later people would still cherish it. Why had it become so difficult to live life in that pace, she wondered.

She wished she could pause her life and enjoy all those things she had not in months. Listen to all her favourite songs and get nostalgic. Read the books she had bought with the hope that she’d read them someday. Make a card for that someone special. Have chai in the garden and watch the birds return home. Call up a friend and talk like there were no tomorrow. Cook something special for her family. Go out for a movie with friends. Write on her blog….

She played the song once again, the lyrics crying out her heart’s desire. Dil dhoondhta hai phir wohi fursat ke raat din...

Life's like that

2008-03-11T09:03:00.000-08:00

I hate Fridays. They are like those people you wish to avoid but nonetheless happen to meet at regular intervals. Like a ‘dare’ that befalls on you no matter how strategically you try to play. It’s like what one feels like on reaching the top of the giant wheel. It all looks so beautiful from that height. Everything seems within your reach. But as it slowly descends, the larger picture is lost and all you are left with is that thing which lies immediately before your eyes. It’s exactly the way a Friday begins, giving hope to numerous possibilities. But by the time you plan something, it’s all lost. Whoosh. The ride is over. You have to come back to ground reality and begin the circle of daily routine.

The best things happen on a hunch, like they did the week that went by. A women’s film festival, a photography exhibition, a display of drawings put up by school children and another exhibition of a renowned painter, Nabibaksh Mansuri are the events that made my week. There’s something about the places these activities take place in and the kind of people you see there that gives rise to an emotion that lingers around for quite some time. Suddenly, you feel a part of a community that endorses the aesthetically appealing activities. It gives you a different kind of high; a voice that screams out ‘yeah, this is life man’. To paint a picture with bold strokes on a huge canvas, to capture the myriad human expressions through the lens, to appreciate beauty and have the freedom to express it the way you understand it...That’s life.

Had it not been for media studies, I would have taken up fine arts. I’m reminded of a line from Bob Dylan’s song, “People seldom do what they believe in. They do what is convenient, then repent.”

i have something to say...

2008-02-06T07:24:00.000-09:00

It’s been long since I posted something on the blog. Considering the medium, even 2-3 days is a long time and I was away for almost 20 days! Reason? Even I don’t know. Not that I didn’t have anything to say, but just that I didn’t know how to say it. But today I do.

I dread the word ‘expectations’ and no matter how hard I try to avoid it, it manages to come back to me time and again. Sometimes it’s about things I expect from others but more often it’s about things I expect from myself. At times I think I know exactly what I want from life. And at times I’m left completely clueless. Sometimes I crib because I believe I do not have enough options to choose from. And at others, I get boggled down by the choices in front of me and hate it when I have to go through the pain of choosing one thing over the other.

It gets even worse when people put a certain amount of faith in you. Relationships often get marred by expectations. It’s not easy to please everyone; rather, it’s impossible. But still, we keep trying, thinking that some day we will succeed. And though we know we are doomed to fail, we do not lose hope.

I, like everyone else, like to find solace in the word ‘hope.’

We the Bloggers

2008-01-19T00:07:00.000-09:00

Last Sunday, on ‘We the People’ (NDTV) the topic of debate was – Should blogs be regulated? My immediate reaction was - What sort of question is that?! Despite the absolutely senseless topic, I dutifully watched the entire debate - thought it was my responsibility as a blogger to do so :P

On the panel were people behind some popular blogs:

Compulsive Confessor
Emancipation of the Eve
Sour Apple Martini

To my surprise, the debate was highly disappointing. I thought it was meant to take blogging seriously. On the contrary, it displayed a very shallow understanding about this whole new means of expression. Add to it the many digressions it succumbed to only to return to the topic towards the end of the show.

Imagine this: Barkha Dutt reads some shocking lines from a post where the blogger talks about his sexual orientation and returns to him to ask ‘Do your parents read your blog?’ Excuse me? Is it some kind of exercise where your parents’ permission is mandatory?

The show was full of contradictions and superficial knowledge about blogs. A teenager proudly announced that he considered it to be a cheap stunt and his classmates had started blogging to get famous overnight! Sigh. He still hasn’t seen anything beyond Orkut.

Thankfully, towards the end the segment on the good and bad about blogs managed to pull out some decent threads. Again, nothing new was spelt out but it encouraged some discussion. Mr. Jagdish, a journalist who maintains a Hindi blog asserted that blogging has revived a new way of writing. Now you don’t have to wait for a newspaper or a publisher to print your stories. Add to it the instant responses! (I told you, nothing new!)

Barkha’s personal experience of an anonymous post holding her responsible for the death of 4 soldiers during the Kargil war led her to believe that though blogs offer freedom and eloquence, they lack accountability. This, in turn raised a question (which apparently was the original topic of the debate) “should blogs be subjected to some level of regulation?”

Towards the end of the show I felt it was a complete waste of time. I wish the NDTV team had done some decent research to know that not all blogs are ‘personal blogs’. Comments like they are a threat to the ‘indian culture’ and a mere way to get ‘cheap thrills’; picking up writers of only personal blogs as panelists; Barkha's superficial knowledge about the subject and the dearth of audience participation marred an otherwise potent topic of discussion. Nothing new was articulated, no conclusions were made. It was an utter disappointment, except for the fact that it became this post’s raison d’etre.

Cut-throat competition – literally!

2008-01-15T23:06:00.000-09:00

Uttarayan – the kite flying festival was celebrated with much gusto during the last two days here in Gujarat. Colourful kites, loud music and voices screaming ‘kaypo che’ and ‘lapet’ filled the air. Relatives visited each other, friends indulged in some fruitful bird-watching on the terraces and undhiyon-fafda-jalebi was the obvious menu in every household. The tanned faces, bruised fingers and sore throats of every second person I met were a telling tale of the fun-filled day spent on the terrace.

But today is a different story all together. The colourful kites that adorned the skies are now seen entangled in the branches of every tree and electrical wire that comes to sight. The dangerous glass coated threads (manja) that became the reason of much jubilation and many frustrations until yesterday now lie on the roads, clinging to every vehicle and passer-by in its way. And I haven’t even spelt out the worst that could have happened – something I feared the most.

The headline reads that a man lost his life after a Chinese thread (apparently with more glass powder) slit his throat while he was driving on his two-wheeler. Seven other people lost their lives while chasing kites and two toppled off the terrace. More than 500 birds were injured and 90 lost their lives during these two days - some of which include the most endangered species.

I cannot help but think, are these celebrations even worth it? Why don’t people understand that their moments of joy could cost someone his life? It degrades the very essence with which such festivals were started in the first place. And Uttarayan is not the only festival to be blamed here. In every festival - be it Holi or Diwali – the nuisance overrules the celebrations. Chemical colours burn the skin; black smoke chokes the air – but we wouldn’t stop celebrating such festivals. Afterall, they are a part of our tradition, isn’t it? Think again. Do we still have to continue like this? Can we not think of better ways of celebrating these festivals in its true spirit?

Ad-dicted – The best ads of 2007

2008-01-07T03:59:00.000-09:00

From typical saas-bahu soaps to typical reality shows - television programming is getting more and more stereo‘typical’…

Little wonder, there are only 2 things I watch with full devotion on TV – the amazing shows on Travel and Living and advertisements.

2007 I believe has been one of the good years for ad agencies owing to some major changes in marketing strategies, mergers and launch of some great brands. The following are some of my favourite ads that were showcased in 2007:

(Follow the link to watch the ad)

Happydent – Hats off to Prasoon Joshi – the man behind the 100 watts smile. What does he eat? I mean, who would have thought of such huge sets, never-seen-before idea and a crazy execution for a mere chewing gum? Little wonder, all the ad functions went gaga over this ad. It surely deserved it.

Bingo – Bingo marked a new trend in advertising – something that we’d never seen before. A clip which started as a tele-shopping ad for glad bangles gets weirdly associated to Bingo’s combination of mad angles! Stupid? Creative? Whatever people say, the fact is that you remember the ad because of its craziness. No confusion, great combination indeed.

Airtel – The brand moves from its “express yourself” tagline and goes deeper with a new thought, ‘Barriers break when people talk’. The original idea was to set the ad at the Wagah Border, and get Indian and Pakistani soldiers to start a football game together. But later, it was changed to make the appeal much more universal. The result – Airtel breaks the clutter and once again becomes one of the most recalled brands.

Vodafone– Hutch becomes Vodafone and the ads just get better. No dialogues, just some background music, great performances and gripping visuals. You’d leave anything aside to watch these ads one more time. I especially love the elevator ad where the poor chap waits the entire day to meet his soulmate and finally meets her. The song ‘take me away’ was especially made for the ad! Loved it.

Lee- This one’s Lee’s first television ad in India and what a success! Denims get a sensuous look and the song ‘I want to touch you’ does the magic. This one was made by a 6 month old ad agency from Bangalore called ‘Happy’ and here too the song was especially made for this ad.

Madhya Pradesh Tourism –Jheel dekho, taad dekho, sher ki dahaad dekho, aankhein neeche neeche dekho, aankhein phaad phaad dekho...
I wish I make something as lovely as this someday. The addictive music, the perfectly rhyming list of sentences, the tamasha treatment – you are sure to enjoy this ad everytime you watch it.

I’m sure there are many more ads but these are the ones that come to my mind instantly. While the world cribs about increased airtime to ads, I would say they are probably the only creative spots we are left with on Indian television today. And I strongly believe there should be a channel completely dedicated to ads so that soaps and reality shows do not spoil the fun of appreciating creativity at its best. What say :)

First post of 2008!

2008-01-02T00:30:00.000-09:00

Couldn’t think of a better way of welcoming the New Year on this blog than posting one of my favourite poems…

Sitaron se aage jahan aur bhi hain
Abhi ishq ke imtehan aur bhi hain
Tahi zindagi se nahin ye fizayen
Yahan siakdon karwaan aur bhi hain
Khana’at na kar aalam-e-rang-o-bu par
Chaman aur bhi aashiyaan aur bhi hain
Agar kho gaya ek nasheman to kya ghum
Maqmat-e-aah-o-fughaan aur bhi hain
Tu shaheen hai parvwaaz hai kaam tera
Tere saamne aasmaan aur bhi hain
Isi roz-o-shab main ulajh kar na rah ja
Ke tere zameen par makaan aur bhi hain
Gaye din ke tanha tha main anjuman mein
Yahaan ab mere raazdaan aur bhi hain

Beyond the stars there are worlds more
Our quest yet has more tests to pass
This existence alone does not matter
There are boundless journeys more
Do not rest on what you have
There are paradises more to explore
Why worry if you have lost one abode
There are a million addresses to claim
You are the falcon, your passion is flight
And you have skies more to transcend
Lose not yourself in the cycle of days and nights
Within your reach are feats even more
Gone is the day when I was lonesome in the crowd
Today those who resonate my thoughts are more

Mohammed Iqbal
Naujawaan ke Naam, Bal-e-Jibraeel, 1908

Stop to shop

2007-12-30T23:37:00.000-09:00

Lord save me from the disastrous shopping trips I end up into. Last afternoon, my parents got a pleasant surprise when I announced, ‘I feel like shopping.’ Their eyes gleamed on hearing this rare expression from the Big B and immediately mom got ready to accompany me for shopping.

Alright, I know I’m a little too choosy when it comes to clothes (more than 4 clothes still have price tags attached to it and more than a dozen shirts that I haven’t touched since ages still usurp my wardrobe space). But then, that’s me. Live with it.

Almost an hour into the shop, and I felt like banging my head against the wall. Why, no I mean, WHY don’t I ever get the kind of clothes I want?? All of them are so tight and dhinchak. Why can’t they just keep simple, normal clothes? Everything has to be so bloody body-fitted. I mean, how do even people breathe in it? Tight jeans and tight t-shirt. Go to a tailor and he wouldn’t even have to take out his measuring tape to know your vital stats! And everything seems to be so loud (probably, it’s my mistake - I went during party season). Everything was glittering – loaded with sequins, stones and God alone knows what all.

Anyways, my point is why does fashion have to come in the way of what you feel comfortable in? Isn’t it ok if I don’t like those clothes? Wouldn’t it be just fine to move around in my jeans and kurta? No, I’m absolutely normal. Just that I detest this whole idea of going with the ‘in’ thing.

End of topic. No more shopping trips for me. In 2007 I mean. Better luck in 2008!

Wish you all a very happy New Year!!! :)

5 taare to Taare Zameen Par

2007-12-27T23:01:00.000-09:00

2 days back I watched TZP. I must admit, it’s after a long long time that a movie made me cry. After all the gyaan regarding video-production in DCS, I started looking at cinema from a very cynical point of view. So everytime I watched a movie, I would scrutinize it to the core and comment on it left right and centre. The result, I would never enjoy the movie. And this left me cinematically malnourished. Thankfully, this movie came forth as a saviour.

The subject itself is so strong that you happily overlook the minor flaws here and there. It’s a simple story beautifully captured and complete with brilliant performances. There is an instant connect with the character of Ishaan (Darsheel) – the dyslexic child burdened with the expectations of his parents and teachers alike. At some point in time, everyone has been misunderstood in his/her childhood. And this story is just about that – the vulnerable state of a child when people dearest to him are not ready to understand his state.

Where did we ever get the crazy idea that in order to make children do better, first we have to make them feel worse? Aamir Khan’s role as the art teacher Nikumbh compels us to reflect on parent’s behaviour towards children who are forced to join the rat-race; parents who are not ready to understand that ‘every child is special.’ His concern for Ishaan looks genuine, his fear for Ishaan’s future wants us to get up and help him too. The unspoken words between Nikumbh and Ishaan; the depressed look on Ishaan’s face; Nikumbh’s moist eyes – there are so many instances where you feel a gulp in your throat.

Add to it Prasoon Joshi’s beautiful lyrics; Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy’s unfailing music; lovely animations that take us into Ishaan’s mind; some unusually great performances by many debutants and the documentary shots of children shown during the credits. The year couldn’t have ended better!

CNN-IBN: Taare Zameen Par, directed by Aamir Khan and written by Amole Gupte, is the one film you have to watch, even if you haven't watched anything else this year because it's a film with a big heart, an important message, but mostly because it's a film that could change your life.

My long lost handwriting

2007-12-26T02:24:00.000-09:00

Few days back I appeared for an exam – a written exam! Yeah, the exclamation mark ‘cos it’s not everyday that I write 20+ foolscap pages. There were 4 exams in all – 2 on each day. The first paper I sat down to WRITE gave some good exercise to my fingers. The first paragraph took quite some effort and had different handwriting on every line. Thankfully, I continued with the best sample of the lot.

Everytime I released the static position in which one holds the pen, there was a slight crackling sound in my fingers. It took some effort and some pain in the knuckles to get back to the pen-holding position once again. Three hours and 20+ written pages later I realized what a humungous task writing has become. I don’t remember the last time I wrote a long letter. I haven’t opened my diary since last 10 months! Scrawling my illegible signature; underling sentences in a book; scribbling some lines here are there – these are the only things I remember doing with a pen nowadays. We are so used to keying in data that we’ve even forgotten how our handwriting looks like!

I mean, think about it – aren’t we losing a quintessential part of our identity? Everyone keys in the same-looking characters on the screen. So what happens to a whole stream called handwriting analysis? When you read someone’s hand-written letters, you can actually see that person’s face superimposed on that letter (ya, 70’s film type). Your sweat can drip on a note; your perfume can be absorbed by the fibres of the paper…Can you feel the same when you read a mail?

Mails, chats, sms – communication is becoming shorter and quicker. In the process, writing is becoming an archaic form of communication. The ability to communicate without editing is being lost. I mean, when was the last time you typed even one complete paragraph without pressing the backspace key?

Typing is faster while writing is slow. No wonder I have lost patience for creating a text at a speed slower than I think. At the same time, I love to write and I don’t want my writing skills to decay. I want to continue to write, to pour my feelings on a piece of paper and then read it after years and wonder if it was my tear drop that caused a smudge on that paper…

Intoxicated!

2007-12-25T03:13:00.000-09:00

She was done with her work for the day but didn’t feel like going home. It was still afternoon. What could she possibly do at home – watch Travel and Living? Well, that wasn’t a bad idea either. Thankfully she thought of something else and landed at one of her favourite places – Tea Centre.

She took a corner table meant for four and ordered masala chai. Two groups of people seated on the other side were discussing Sensex and Modi; neither of which interested her. She looked the other side and peered through the clear glass wall. Surprisingly, from that height the traffic looked much more organized. Strange things that people do while waiting on a signal – a girl combing her hair, a biker trying to squeeze in his bike between two cars to move ahead faster - caught her attention. Meanwhile, her masala tea arrived - two full cups made from tea liqueur, ginger, pudina and other tea masala. As she sipped the piping hot tea, she wondered why people still referred to Gujarat as a dry state; they could always enjoy intoxicating drinks like this one!

That afternoon, time moved at a leisurely pace, letting her enjoy every moment of it - the soothing white and lime green interiors, the glass wall between her and the chaotic world outside, the aroma of the chai, doing nothing in particular…

After a long time she found some good company. After a long time she spent time with herself…

P.S.: This is my 52nd post (missed the half century!). No, it hasn’t been a long journey. Rather, the journey has just begun. Looking forward to your company ahead :) Cheers!

Death of a different kind…

2007-12-19T00:03:00.000-09:00

The blogosphere seems like one vast ocean of knowledge, inspiration, creativity, questions, musings, thoughts, fancies, cribs, scattered emotions, non-sense – every single thing that defines us. At times I’m happy to see that such a thing actually exists and at times I’m simply awed by this unbelievably never-ending process of dissemination!

One of the best parts about blogs is that you are sure to find an expression to some of your deepest thoughts which you could never put into words. I came across this post on Atul’s blog. It’s something that I have been thinking about since long but could never spell out so neatly…

...blogs, like memories, don't die. Or something to that effect. And I believe so. People delete blogs, they stop writing at their blogs, yet blogs themselves don't die. They may be pushed back in the darkest deepest recesses of an inaccessible server somewhere, but they don’t die. At worst, they don't grow - they stagnate for want of nutrition.

Blogs don’t die. Bloggers do. They die two kinds of death, one of which is certain.

Between A and B

2007-12-18T01:28:00.000-09:00

A: Isn’t 18 the official age to marry?

B: Not any more… they’ve changed it to 21 years for girls and 23 for guys.

A: Oh, ok

B: It’s so weird…at 18 they think you’re capable of making national decisions but not your personal ones!

A: That's 'cos national decisions don’t f**k you up so badly…

Sunday Morning

2007-12-17T04:16:00.000-09:00

It’s a cold morning. She wakes up earlier than usual and heads for the front door to pick up the Sunday paper. Without even glancing through the headlines, she turns directly to Page 20. The world can wait; she needs to know what the coming week has in store for her. “An exciting week ahead. Financial matters will improve.” She grins. “But…” Oho, why the BUT? “But the sudden change in planets can pose a problem on the social front. Parents or friends may not agree to your plans.” Shittt.

Life’s so predictable...

Jitega Gujarat?

2007-12-15T00:03:00.000-09:00

The big debate about Gujarat continues on all news channels. Ghosts of Godhra and Sohrabuddin haunt back, taking up most of the air-space and the crowd once again gets divided into extremes – to be or not to be (with Modi). While Mr. Bandukwalla said that its time to forget 2002 and move ahead, there are people who think that Modi needs to be hanged for all the blood and gore that shredded the moral fibre of the state.

I switch off the television and am lost in deep thought. This is for the 1st time I’ll be voting. It’s quite a responsibility. On one hand we have a Modi who has changed the face of Gujarat, made it the land of investments and convinced people that we live in a ‘Vibrant Gujarat’. On the other, he’s the mass-murderer – the modern day Nero who set the state on fire and gleefully watched it from a safe distance. So while people do not stop praising him for making Gujarat one of the most progressive states of India, the same people abhor him when they watch the sting operations with men describing the details of the Gujarat genocide. And now that it’s time to take a stand – Modi or no Modi - people are struggling under the burden of choice.

My question is - Can the Modi of 2002 be separated from the Modi of 2007? Is it really possible to forget (if not forgive) everything and move towards a better future? Is it possible not to think about ethics but only about economics? Can there be a middle path? Can progress and justice co-exist in Gujarat once again?

The dichotomies boggle me and I fear the consequences.

To be or not to be (with Modi) is the question my Lord.

O re piyaa...

2007-12-14T00:16:00.000-09:00

Bliss
Freedom
Sorrow
Pain
Perplexity
Plea
Love
Longing
Hope

It’s amazing how one song can capture all of these emotions so powerfully. It’s after a really long time that a song has touched my heart so deeply. The lyrics are so euphemistic, the music so sufiana and the voice simply magical...

It’s the song ‘O re piya’ from the movie Aaja Nachle, sung by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan.

O re piya haye
Udne laga kyon man baawla re
Aaya kahan se yeh hosla re
O re piya haye

Tanabana tanabana bunti hawaa haaye bunti hawa
Boondein bhi to aaye nahi baaz yahan

Sagish mein shaamil sara jahan hai
Har zare zare ki yeh iltiza hai

O re Piya
O re Piya haye
O re Piya

Nazrein bolen duniya bole
dil ki zaban haaye dil ki zubaan
Ishq maange ishq chahe koi toofan

Chalna aahiste ishq naya hai
Pehla yeh vada humne kiya hai

O re piya haaye
O re piya
Piyaaaaa....

Nange pairo pe angaro
chalti rahi haaye chalti rahi
Lagta hai ke gairo mein
Palti rahi haaye
le chal wahan jo
Mulk tera hai
Jahil zamana
dushman mera hai

haaye

O re piya haye

You need to listen to it to know what I’m saying. Here it is.

Your favourite restaurant can help you improve your blog!

2007-12-12T02:14:00.000-09:00

My 1st post on blogging got a pretty decent response. I had written it when I was still new to the blogosphere. Now, having spent a considerable amount of time reading hundreds of blogs and being significantly regular with my posts, I am trying to interrogate what factors make or break a blog.

This analogy struck me while having dinner in one of my favourite restaurants last Sunday. I have been to this place umpteen number of times but on this particular visit I consciously thought - what is it that brings me back to this place? Alright… let’s put it this way – why would you go to a particular restaurant?

a) the food is really good
b) you like the ambience
c) the service is flawless
d) it sets a standard

Ditto applies to a good blog!!!

a) Excellent food: Everyone’s in search of good food for thought. Good writing and good topics are definitely the first things that draw readers to your blog. Like a specialized v/s multi-cuisine restaurant, you too can find your forte. You could either maintain a blog that projects you as a pro in a specific subject (media, photography,etc.) or offer the world on your plate. However, do not forget to lay emphasis on the presentation. Well-garnished food not only looks good but also tastes better. Quotes, pictures, etc can give a complete facelift to your posts.

b) Ambience: Many people seem to underestimate this but the fact remains that the look of the blog matters. It doesn’t mean that your template should be fancy or extremely stylized; it should be visually appealing and ‘clean’. Personally speaking, a blog with thousands of links on either side puts me off and leaves me hunting for the actual post.

You love to go in a restaurant where you feel most comfortable. Similarly, the reader should be comfortable when he/she visits your blog. They should be able to concentrate on the substance of your blog. I’ve come across some blogs where a heavy backdrop moves with the cursor. It’s very irritating and I end up with a headache :P

c) Service: Ask yourself - is there any way my readers benefit from my blog? If yes, they are sure to visit your blog time and again. ‘Benefit’ here has no one definition – you may be a pro in some field helping them with information or you could be engaging them in a dialogue/debate that helps them look at the finer nuances of life.

d) Set a standard - Inconsistency can become a big hurdle. When you go to a restaurant, you know what to expect from that place; the same applies to your blog. It’s important to maintain a standard. People visiting your blog should not be disappointed. Do some homework – find out which posts are most popular; what is it that your readers appreciate on your blog. Accordingly, try to improve; experiment a bit if need be!

They say, if you pour your love in food, it is sure to taste better. So no matter what you write, if it’s from the heart it will definitely be appreciated :)

If you have any suggestions, do share!

To end on a sweet note...

2007-12-07T04:04:00.000-09:00

It had been a hard day for her. In an attempt to divert her mind to something pleasant, she turned on the radio. Just then, she heard that tune – it was one of her favourite songs. She gently smiled; kept the little transistor next to her ears. Every word which was so beautifully woven in that soulful music touched her heart once again…

Aapki manzil hun main, meri manzil aap hain
Kyun main toofan se darun, mera saahil aap hain

Koi toofanon se keh de mil gaya saahil mujhe
Dil ki ae dhadkan thehar ja, mil gayi manzil mujhe

The magic of the song still lingering in her mind, she sighed. All’s well that ends well. Tomorrow shall be a new day…

English, Professor!

2007-12-05T01:15:00.000-09:00

There are those famous jokes about the way Gujaratis speak English – snack-snakes; hall-hole, etc. For 21 years in Ahmedabad, I had never come across any Gujarati who spoke that way. However, sometime in 2004, while on my train to Pune, a Gujarati girl scared the shit out of me when she said, “My bag is full of snakes.” It took some seconds to realize what she meant.

My point being, English is a very funny language. Just a slight twitch of a syllable and the entire context changes. And professors are those species who have the knack of using it in the weirdest ways. Forget the ‘open the windows and let the airforce come in’ under-grad jokes. We are talking about the use of English language at the Masters level. And when it comes to DCS, you are sure to chance upon some real gems of phonetic bends.

Here, every professor has a distinct style. Let me begin with Mr D – the same not-so-beloved professor who taught us the basics of Mass Com. His tragedy is that he often gets confused with the long 'eeee' and the short 'i' in words. The result – some absolutely new meanings emerging out of bland sentences and many embarrassing moments…

The beginning – innocent and forgivable…

Media is a very complex subject. To understand it completely, you need to pip into the nuances. (peep into the nuances).

For a class that would dig double-meaning in every sentence, this was perhaps their best chance…

This was during our class trip to Goa:
This is such a rare sight – so many goats on a bitch!!! (beach)

After this one, girls were ready to kill him!

While talking about the Press Council of India:
It’s like a paper tiger with rubber *** (teeth)

But this is just the teeep of the iceberg. Once you seeeet in his class, you’ll realize how torturous things can get! His tongue sleeps was too much :P

Isn’t it?

2007-12-04T02:21:00.000-09:00

Fair, wheatish, dark - In the marriage market, women are reduced to a shade card.

Rewind – stop – play

2007-12-03T02:42:00.000-09:00

Pune. Call it a seductress – that’s what it is. Three years of bitter-sweet experiences in this city have made me the person I am today. And here is an attempt to relive those moments that are etched in my memory. Funny, sad, nonsensical, enlightening – documenting some of these moments is my way of falling in love with the city all over again. So let’s start where my life took a 360 degree turn – the University of Pune.

June 2004

Our not-so-beloved professor is teaching us the basics of Mass-Com. Most of the students are yawning, others are daydreaming. It’s just the first month and many have already mastered the art of sleeping with their eyes wide open! I’m the unfortunate one – sitting in the first row, obediently listening to each and every word and taking down extensive notes. The voice of an over- enthusiastic professor in the next classroom cuts across the fake sound-proof walls and makes the already boring lecture absolutely incomprehensible. And it’s not just the voice; a foul smell too enters the classroom. The dead souls in the class start making some movement. Twitched noses and disgusted looks finally bring us all to a common ground. Everyone exchanges quick looks, suspecting that the one sitting next to him has farted. Not that such an incident had never taken place in school or college but studying at a Master’s level in this esteemed University made me believe that students no longer open-fire in stuffed classrooms. After 15 minutes of torture, the lecture gets over and we catch hold of the culprit – it’s the unclean loo, strategically constructed a few steps away from our class. Eeewww…

Welcome to a whole new world of academic experience. We call it DCS – The Department of Communication Studies. Tucked away in a not-so-nice-looking corner of the oh-so-beautiful Pune University, this is the place where I shall be unlearning the old ways of learning for the coming two years.

Surprise!

2007-11-30T01:55:00.000-09:00

She rings the door bell, palm covering the eye-hole. As she hears his footsteps approaching, her heart beats faster. The door opens and he’s dumbfounded. His face holds the exact expression that she’d imagined – happy, confused, surprised. She cannot stop smiling and gives him a huge hug. The same sweet smell that she’d been missing embraces her body once again. He gently kisses her forehead and gazes into her kajal-laced eyes. They don’t say a word, just look into each other's eyes and smile.

Tears roll down her cheek. She’s daydreaming again...