"... and what you are left with is a premonition of the way your life will fade behind you, like a book you have read too quickly, leaving a dwindling trail of images and emotions until all you can remember is a name."
~Jay McInerney
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
La Vita E Bella
"Natasha has just come up to the window from the courtyard and opened it wider so that the air may enter more freely into my room. I can see the bright green strip of grass beneath the wall, and the clear blue sky above the wall, and sunlight everywhere. Life is beautiful. Let the future generations cleanse it of all evil, oppression and violence, and enjoy it to the full."
~Leon Trotsky
~Leon Trotsky
Giosué Orefice: "No Jews or Dogs Allowed." Why do all the shops say, "No Jews Allowed"?
Guido: Oh, that. "Not Allowed" signs are the latest trend! The other day, I was in a shop with my friend the kangaroo, but their sign said, "No Kangaroos Allowed," and I said to my friend, "Well, what can I do? They don't allow kangaroos."
Giosué Orefice: Why doesn't our shop have a "Not Allowed" sign?
Guido: Well, tomorrow, we'll put one up. We won't let in anything we don't like. What don't you like?
Giosué Orefice: Spiders.
Guido: Good. I don't like Visigoths. Tomorrow, we'll get sign: "No Spiders or Visigoths Allowed."
Monday, May 07, 2007
City of dreams
Bombay - correction -Mumbai. Have been reading about it these days - piecemeal - at a leisurely pace. I never came across a more layered city than this one. It might take a lifetime to uncover the various faces of Mumbai - dirty secrets - star dust - glamour and glitz - mind boggling riches - mind numbing poverty - the ignored underworld - the pseudo-stylish bhais - the corrupt politicians - the slums and the chawls - Bollywood and the actors. Perhaps the only city, where the most beautiful dreams exist in such extreme proximity to stark - bare - ugly realities.
Suketu Mehta, in his book "Maximum City", has painted Mumbai with such myriad colours that it all overwhelmed me initially. But as I progressed through the pages - I began to see Mumbai through his eyes. Mumbai - the city of the Taj Hotel - the city of Gateway of India - the city of Wankhede Stadium - the city of Dharavi slums - the city of the high-rises of Malabar Hills - the city of Dawood Ibrahim - the city of Thackeray - the city of vada-pav - the city of Dalal Street - the city of Bollywood - the city of dreams. At times - I had tears in my eyes - times when I was aghast at the audacity with which he spoke of certain sects and individuals - he came across as too blatant at times - but I was laughing with him when he made a passing sarcastic remark about something or someone - felt his pain when he missed the Bombay (not Mumbai) that he grew up with. The book spoke to me - about Mumbai and the burden of millions of shattered and fulfilled dreams that the city carried. He made me long to know Mumbai a little more better.
From the countless anecdotes, experiences and meetings he recounts with varied contrasting characters all across Mumbai, he - at times - eloquently and at times - crassly brings out the hidden truths and blatant rumours about Mumbai. Be it the Demolition Man - Honey - Mona Lisa - Sunil - Girish - Chhota Shakeel - Bala Saheb - Vidhu Vinod Chopra - Ajay Lal - everyone carries a little bit of Mumbai in their heart. They sometimes curse it - sometimes sing praises of the city - but they are addicted to it - every bit of it - the rich to their single malt whisky evenings on the high-rise balconies - the poor to their dirty and stinking chawls and shanties.
I might never get to experience Mumbai up, close and personal - but after having read Suketu's book, I can say for sure that am now a pseudo-Mumbaikar - a little bit of Mumbai goes with me now - wherever I go.
Suketu Mehta, in his book "Maximum City", has painted Mumbai with such myriad colours that it all overwhelmed me initially. But as I progressed through the pages - I began to see Mumbai through his eyes. Mumbai - the city of the Taj Hotel - the city of Gateway of India - the city of Wankhede Stadium - the city of Dharavi slums - the city of the high-rises of Malabar Hills - the city of Dawood Ibrahim - the city of Thackeray - the city of vada-pav - the city of Dalal Street - the city of Bollywood - the city of dreams. At times - I had tears in my eyes - times when I was aghast at the audacity with which he spoke of certain sects and individuals - he came across as too blatant at times - but I was laughing with him when he made a passing sarcastic remark about something or someone - felt his pain when he missed the Bombay (not Mumbai) that he grew up with. The book spoke to me - about Mumbai and the burden of millions of shattered and fulfilled dreams that the city carried. He made me long to know Mumbai a little more better.
From the countless anecdotes, experiences and meetings he recounts with varied contrasting characters all across Mumbai, he - at times - eloquently and at times - crassly brings out the hidden truths and blatant rumours about Mumbai. Be it the Demolition Man - Honey - Mona Lisa - Sunil - Girish - Chhota Shakeel - Bala Saheb - Vidhu Vinod Chopra - Ajay Lal - everyone carries a little bit of Mumbai in their heart. They sometimes curse it - sometimes sing praises of the city - but they are addicted to it - every bit of it - the rich to their single malt whisky evenings on the high-rise balconies - the poor to their dirty and stinking chawls and shanties.
I might never get to experience Mumbai up, close and personal - but after having read Suketu's book, I can say for sure that am now a pseudo-Mumbaikar - a little bit of Mumbai goes with me now - wherever I go.
Of reunions and goodbyes
The last week just fleeted by. Amidst all the work and studying, I managed to squeeze in Jack Welch, Suketu Mehta and J K Rowling – a chapter each - got irritated with the power cuts – the killing Hyderabad heat – the long ride back home - Hrithik’s short hair - lizards which keeping falling off the walls of my house.
Weekend was chilled out. It was a journey back in time. Met two friends from college after a real long time – L and P. L has been a good friend always. He and I have never been swell friends – we have not kept in touch – we do not talk on a daily basis and our work definitely does not have much in common – but then – sense does not prevail when we meet up – thats the most fun part of it all - it was the same yet again – thankfully.
P was ever the same – the cute little charming kid – only now with an increased fan following – both here and overseas. She was just the same. We both also now don’t have many common things to talk about – we don’t keep in touch for days on end – but there is always this comfortable sense that we are there for each other in whatever way possible. Guess that’s what the real essence of friendship is all about anyways. Wished her good bye yesterday. I don’t like goodbyes. They make me retrospect many things – relive many moments – make me sad mostly. P, L and I might keep in touch in future – might not keep in touch – but then with some friends you can pick up things just where you left thm - you dont ever owe an explanation - you just know that they will understand. P and L are two such friends. Till we meet again guys – God bless and good luck.
As for me – back to making Premji richer – increase my work-ex numbers and watch and gape at Spidey – long week ahead. But then I know it will be a fleeting one – just like the previous long weeks of mine.
Weekend was chilled out. It was a journey back in time. Met two friends from college after a real long time – L and P. L has been a good friend always. He and I have never been swell friends – we have not kept in touch – we do not talk on a daily basis and our work definitely does not have much in common – but then – sense does not prevail when we meet up – thats the most fun part of it all - it was the same yet again – thankfully.
P was ever the same – the cute little charming kid – only now with an increased fan following – both here and overseas. She was just the same. We both also now don’t have many common things to talk about – we don’t keep in touch for days on end – but there is always this comfortable sense that we are there for each other in whatever way possible. Guess that’s what the real essence of friendship is all about anyways. Wished her good bye yesterday. I don’t like goodbyes. They make me retrospect many things – relive many moments – make me sad mostly. P, L and I might keep in touch in future – might not keep in touch – but then with some friends you can pick up things just where you left thm - you dont ever owe an explanation - you just know that they will understand. P and L are two such friends. Till we meet again guys – God bless and good luck.
As for me – back to making Premji richer – increase my work-ex numbers and watch and gape at Spidey – long week ahead. But then I know it will be a fleeting one – just like the previous long weeks of mine.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Out in the open
The best advice I ever got in life was from Ross Geller in a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. episode. He said – never keep anything in your heart. Speak things out. Never keep the ifs, buts and what ifs around you. When you speak things out, you get a clear perspective – a third person’s viewpoint. When you hear yourself saying things out – you realize whether your reasons behind the whole issue are truly logical or just something immature and kiddish.
I did it once – apprehensively – skeptically – cynically – hopefully. I was not disappointed. I realised Ross did make sense. It hurt at first – a lot at that. But then, sometimes, band-aid is not the solution – you just have to let your wounds breathe and hope that they will eventually heal.
I did it once – apprehensively – skeptically – cynically – hopefully. I was not disappointed. I realised Ross did make sense. It hurt at first – a lot at that. But then, sometimes, band-aid is not the solution – you just have to let your wounds breathe and hope that they will eventually heal.
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