Saturday, 7 November 2009
Sunday, 30 August 2009
Monday, 24 August 2009
Thursday, 21 May 2009
Walking on the road
I see the sun shine
I couldnt tell if it was sinking or rising
Lots of birds chirping
I think its sinking
More than a gentle breeze
Trying to disturb by unruly hair
I reached a park
Small one near our place
A swing there was, another broken
A slide there was, with a ladder to climb onto it
Children were on the swing
There were some on the slide
Some climbing up
Some sliding down
And both happy
Sun is behind the trees now
Hitting my face through the spaces
I think I can paint a lovely picture
But realize its incomplete without you.
Some were playing cricket
With stones as wickets
The others just sitting on the wall
Chatting about the movie tickets
There sat a couple
Looks like they are in love
Whether lovers or brother-sister I dont know
Whichever love is love after all
I think I can paint a lovely picture
With the sun sinking in
And the sky growing golden
With the kite flying above
And the one holding the thread
But I realize its incomplete without you
Now where should I put you in
On the wall ? its quite silly
On the slide ? still the same
Playing cricket ? its mad (sure love is)
In the swing ? looks right
Beside me ? Oh wait,
I wouldnt be painting if you were beside me
All I would do is to stare
Sunday, 10 May 2009
I really didn't think that I would, at some point of time, support Chelsea FC. I quite dislike them. Its just that feeling you have against someone without any reason. Partly attributed to prejudice. Anyway, this is what this entry is about. Its about the recent outburst over the indecent exit of those eleven from the Champions League.
If Tom Henning Ovrebo had been dragged into court and sued for the millions (they might have been crowned The Champions, who knows ?) that Chelsea has lost, he'd have nothing to plead but temporary insanity, if at all temporary insanity could count for more than ninety three minutes at a stretch. Turning down what many see as clear penalties, and not one or two but a full four of them is really over the bar and over the bar a lot. Agreed that if Drogba hadn't dived game in and game out, there'd had been pretty good chances that Ovrebo might have given the penalty. Agreed that Chelsea could have scored when there were good opportunities and all Drogba did was to keep Barca's hopes alive (and probably the ref's as well). Agreed Chelsea havent taken the advantage of the twenty odd minutes when the visitors from across the sea had been reduced to ten (owing to another misjudged red card. Now whose side is he anyway?). But still, four penalties is way too much to disallow.
What followed after the match was a thing that the media was happy to pounce on. Drogba termed it all a "f*king disgrace" which most would say is true. One, from the guardian, was voicing the fans when he said that "Ballack should have gone all the way to do a Zidane". Ha ha. One leading Barcelona newspaper also sported a cartoon where a kid asks his mom that he needs a Barca shirt. But which one," his mother replies, "the goalie shirt, the home shirt or the referee's shirt?"
John Terry must have kept his calm and talked to his jumping mates. But the leader was far from it. Its really a shame to see such world class players act that way but one can only say that one can understand it. But that doesn't mean that they should go unpunished. It speaks of the quality of the team when one faces such adverse situations. "Character" is what should be shown here, at a time when the scenario least demands it. And thats what makes players great and a team great. I just don't understand how they couldn't do this one act. A team of the class of Chelsea should have kept calm however emotional they might have become. Anyway, being normal isn't bad at all. The ref. really deserves a full Zidane done to him.
It has to be mentioned that Chelsea really didn't play football at Camp Nou. All they did was "par k the bus". It was almost a 10-0-0 formation. A f*cking disgrace too, I dare say. All they did was pass, pass, pass. Only one good chance that was ruined by (no prize for guessing it right) Drogba. The rest was really frustrating to any football lover. Hence, the Spanish press were quoting this debacle as justice done, even if they find it delayed (till the 93minutes, that is).
At the end of the day, it was a bit of clumsy effort by Chelsea and a big big hand of the ref that made them see the end of the road to the final. A 1-1 was on the cards, but the way it drew is a shame.
Saturday, 2 May 2009
You must watch it to know what I am speaking here. Once in a while when we are changing the tv channels, we stumble across an advertisement that is worthy of our attention. Quite fewer times we come across one that makes us feel all nice and gay - there a few ads that make us happy everyday, but these fewer ones make us feel entirely happy from inside. And fewer times, 'rare' can be the word to describe it, there comes an ad that grips your attention, that dictates terms, that more than lives up to what it is advertising. Some ads stand a class apart. Way way apart. This ad is one in that league. Its almost solitary being in that league because there are too few that sit up there.
I love this ad. The way the music stops at the right moments and then carries on again. The way the whole thing is shown. The way different scenes are portrayed together. The way the whole music plays. The way that guy looks up as the waves crash on his feet. The way the Dicor drifts and mud rises. The way the Dicors background is. The way the rain drops fall on the spectacles and on the mud.
This is one ad that made me feel that I should buy this Tata Safari Dicor. Maybe one day I will. And if someone asks me why, I might just smile and open the door and get into it and press the pedal and watch his outline becomes smaller in my rear view mirror. Brilliant ad ! Really no words can mention how brilliant this is.
Kudos to the ones involved in the ad production and design, and the sound track maker ofcourse. Wonder if anything can get a better video for promotion !
Thursday, 19 March 2009
"The time has come," the Walrus said
"To talk of many things:
Of goals -- and penalties-- and red cards--
Of when the final bell rings
And whether Man. Utd. have wings."
It was a dull day for most of the Manchester United fans, atleast duller than the past times that they've been vanquished. Losing a match by a telling margin of 4 goals to 1 to an adversary, of whom they despise, of whom they talk about while playing cards, while sipping hot tea on a saturday morning, would bear upon their feeble minds an onus that is well worthy of itself. The last saturday, with their full strength, their eleven men, Manchester United lost the match at their home ground, the Old Trafford, to the Reds, the Liverpool, by the scoreline 1-4.
Much has to be said about their complacency and arrogance. So much that if one has to go on writing, it would well be reaching the end when a book of Ramayana started parallely would have had the Lord Rama constructing the mythical bridge to the Lanka. The comparison isn't apt. More so because of the hard work that the monkeys and others had gone through to build the bridge. United here, for one, did nothing of that sort. They were just bewildered by the audacity with which the Liverpool forwards and midfielders have surged through their vaunted defence.
A passer by, when prompted to watch the match, would have said that the scoreline would have been much heavier on the latter side with some khatarnak goals just having missed the blessing that master Fate holds its reign on. United are not wonted to having being thrashed at home. Maybe this would wake them up from their day dreams and their habit of stating that the Premier League is unka baap ka jaagir.
There are some things that only one can experience. Those that someone of the calibre of Wodehouse or Sidney Sheldon can describe with their hold on the language but would still fall short of giving one the actual experience of it. Like having garam channa or pani puri on a winter evening, or having a garam chai on the rainy day watching the rain through the window sills, or dancing in the rain with your loved one. One can speak much about them but would only be succeeding in communicating that one would enjoy such things. But to actually let you know how it is to feel those things, is quite impossible. The same can be said about a casual football lover that watches a wonderful game on a saturday evening. That it is between Man Utd and Liverpool , the old rivals, needs to be mentioned here. That I couldn't watch it is not a matter of chance, but speaks of the tragic lives that people in BSNL project are leading. Atleast with the feeling of unable ot watch the match, I felt it hard on my conscience. ;-)
Enough of this obituary for now. I have exaggerated a few things here, but would be happy to have written the same stuff again. Especially contemplating on the match through the red tinted glasses that I am wearing. (Liverpool are called 'The Reds') Whatever might be said, it is evident that unless Man. Utd. fails to win a few of the easy matches, Liverpool dont' stand a chance for the title. Man. Utd., with this scar, would be quite formidable and thrilling to watch, as ever. Whoever wins, the football each of these teams play gives one a quite-a-smug feeling and that's what it is all about. Let there be love. Let there be football. To hell with Indian fourth estate and their mania for cricket that has driven me to stop watching cricket.
PS: All the Manchester Utd fans sorry to have disappointed you. It was just a wakeup call for your team. Next to Liverpool, I love Man. Utd. Apart from Christiano Ronaldo, of course.
Sunday, 15 March 2009
The valentine's day has passed. No news of bombings anywhere. Thank god, I say to myself. Valentine's day. The day that sells many greetings. Many flowers. What about the ones on the other side of the line ? The ones that wreaked havoc lately, with their bombings and shootings. What would the valentine's day hold for them ? The boss says it's a holiday for us today. He's going out with his wife to a dinner tonight. ??? What about these guys ? Quite young. With frequent rushes of blood to the heart. The adrenaline rush. Cold blood to the heart or blood to a cold heart ?
It's not like they have thought it from the time they came to senses. What would they have thought when they were 10yrs old ? What would you have thought of when you were 10yrs old and one amongst them ? You look at the grocery store wondering how lucky his children are because they need not work much because they already knew what they would do when they grew up. Owner of the grocery store...the place where people get vegetables from, their daily essentials, not guns. Yes knives. Only that they are used for cutting vegetables.
You look at the ice cream walah. Like a magician who takes a rabbit out of the hat, he takes the ice-crotes from his dabba. Look magic. Smiles on the faces of the children surrounding him. I want to be a magician, make people gasp, make magic. Look magic. Everyone claps. Nice show, sir. What show is this now, where's the rabbit ? Only that its not a rabbit, it might have been an AK or a grenade. No claps. Only hands, detached from their masters.
You watch the television. Big cars and smiles all around. Enough dough in their pockets to buy lots of icecreams and chocolates. I want to have them too. Except that on their way up, they forgot the things that gave them satisfaction, the things that they wanted. Aspirations grow. People change. But when you listen to a wrong voice you make a wrong choice.
How does it work? What you think is wrong, is right for one. What brings you tears brings a smile for someone. How does it work? How does one know what's right ? What's right need not always be good. What's good or right need not always be the thing that should be done. Who decides these? Who dies and who lives? You there, you are wearing that blue pants that I despise. You will pay for it. Is that it ?
What about their valentine's ? They say everyone has a someone who thinks they are the angel on Earth, the blessing from above. Everyone has a someone who has robbed of their hearts. And in some cases, minds as well. That one girl that used to grin, through the veil, when she sees you.What about the one for these guys? Holding roses instead of guns. A bunch of roses for you miss. You stole my heart. I am heartless now. Sarcastic, no. Tragic. Maybe there are the only ones who can stop them frommarching ahead.
So, where is the love ? In the world, is growing unrest. My darling son, you are home. How was the school ? He's safe today, she says to herself. One more day of being safe.
We went for a small trip to Basar, to visit a temple. On the way, we stopped to eat the puffed rice, lemon rice and chapathis that mom made. We stopped near a lush green field. It was an onion and potato field. There was water running through the pump that was in the field and we thought it good to stop there. We had just finished eating the food and had taken a few snaps and were contemplating on leaving when a little girl arrived. She was the daughter of the farmer that owned the field. She was all smiles. She stretched her right hand and we saw that there were a couple of roses in it. There were two of my sisters with us. It was for them. They were only too glad to accept it with a smirk. Her dad had plucked those roses (there were a few rose plants on the far side of the field and we didn't notice it. Probably he planted them for his daughter) and gave it to her daughter to give it to these girls. No one has asked for it. It was not at all needed. But it was love. Love for his daughter as well as these daughters of some father that he didn't know. An act of good will.
One can blast such people. Can grind bullets through them. But cannot touch what's within. Of what one holds inside.They can make love take a back seat for some time. But cannot destroy it. It's here. It's all over the place. It's everywhere. For we are, still alive now. It wouldn't have been without enough love to hold on.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
"You want to say that you love me ?", asked the princess.
"Yes. A lot. A lot, lot, lot. I love you a lot". Presently, he just saw a dark outline of a pretty face and some strands of hair on an ear and it was shining. What it was that shined was inexplicable to him. He was entirely lost in his own thoughts. It was as though he was blinded by the light that was hitting his face. Little did he realize that it was really the sun that was shining behind her. It was becaue she tilted her head to the other side. She came in between the sun and his face. And now that she tilted it to the other side, he felt the brightness on his face. She didn't look surprised and that told him that his face was not showing that surprise either.
"This is the fifteenth time today that you've said that and it's not even noon yet"
"That's a small number. I would say it a hundred times a day"
"That's not enough. I want it to be said Nine hundred and ninety nine times"
He moved a step forward. Her eyes widened.
"You're not going to..."
His face was bent and he landed a burning kiss on her uplorn face. He was a bit taller than her and she had to look up when he did that. The kiss was right on the top of her forehead, above the black tikli. It was too gentle. She felt as though she could be there forever in his presence, with him so close, so close that his heartbeat was almost audible, and that it was beating for her, with her name resounding in a rhythmic fashion.
She tried to control her smile, but she was already grinning.
"You said more than what I asked"
His fingers entwined with hers in acknowledgement. Her head was resting on his chest. And she was sure of her name resounding now. It was as though they were one, made more prominent by their entwined fingers. And he was now looking at the sun, and she was in his arms.
"How would a wide eyed beauty like it, if it was Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine times ?"
"That would mean that they both would be quite hungry and thirsty in the end. What with how long it would take to tell it or show it"
"You stole my line, princess"
"And you stole my heart"
"That's even then", he said. He was now passing his other hand through her hair.
"No. I haven't kissed you back yet", she giggled.
"Oh ! When you give it back, I need the actual one plus the interest on it"
"How does a hundred percent interest sound ?"
"Suits me well"
"Then I'll give you more than that"
"That would be more than fine", he said, "And I would be more than happy".