Monday, February 28, 2005


This was sooooooooo funny couldnt resist the temptation of posting it on the blog.

Hold on to your chairs coz you r gonna roll out laughing....




















Friday, February 25, 2005

Koi Yeh Kaise Bataye...

koi ye kaise bataaye ke woh tanaha kyon hai
wo jo apna tha, wahi aur kisi ka kyon hai
yehi duniyaan hain to fir, aisi yeh duniyaan kyon hai
yehi hota hain to, aakhir yehi hota kyon hai?

ik zaraa haath badhaa de to, pakad le daaman
us ke seene mein samaa jaaye, hamaree dhadakan
itane kurbat hain to fir faasla itanaa kyon hai?

dila-e-barbaad se nikala naheen ab tak koi
ik loote ghar pe diyaa karataa hain dastak koi
aas jo toot gayi hain fir se bandhaataa kyon hai?

tum masarrat ka kaho ya ise gam ka rishta
kehate hain pyaar ka rishta hain janam ka rishta
hai janam ka jo ye rishta to badalata kyon hai?

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Update to Reality

Was terribly busy the past week.The Tata Pitch made sure that we stayed over in the office for the weekend.But it was good fun.Lotta learnings.The best part being I was there for the final presentation.It was a major morale booster.Presented two radio spots.Started the narration with a faux paus."Spot opens with the sound of a doorbell.Next we see a somebody opening the door."Gawd!!!Everybody was in splits...the client was like,"We see?????In a radio spot????"But that was the only pitfall.Rest of the narration was bang on.After the presentation Ban came up to me and said, "My God what voice you have got!If not advertising dubbing seems like an apt career option for you."I rolled my eyes and smiled.

I got this forward on a sunday night while we were trying to crack the creative.Found it too realistic.



Our communication - Wireless

Our telephone - Cordless

Our cooking - Fireless

Our youth - Jobless

Our religion - Creedless

Our food - Fatless

Our faith - Godless

Our labour - Effortless

Our conduct - Worthless

Our relation - Loveless

Our attitude - Careless

Our feelings - Heartless

Our politics - Shameless

Our education - Valueless

Our follies - Countless

Our arguments - Baseless

Our bosses - hopeless


Our Salary - Very less

Hmm..couldnt agree with it more...Wot say?

P.S.Didnt get time to complete Escapade Part II and now I am feeling toooooo bored.Only if there's public demand I am gonna take the trouble of putting it up..guyz anybody?

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Which Author's Fiction are You?

William Faulkner
William Faulkner wrote you. Yes, you're a genius,
you drunken old coot.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

The Escapade Part I

Last Sunday Sachin had just mentioned that “We guys(that is Sachin,Raman and Mumpy) are gonna go to Chandigarh from here and maybe also to Simla, why don’t you join in?” I was like “Are you crazy? Coming all the way from Mumbai to Delhi then Simla just for a weekend…You must be nuts!” But Sachin persisted, “C’mon man it will be fun…we haven’t been out for quite sometime now.” “Oh..Yeah…but sir I don’t posses the good fortune of being born into a Birla or an Ambani family and what I get at the end of every month for doodling a few lines, doesn’t permit me to indulge into such lavish acts of hedonistic behavior.”But my taunt seemed to have had no effect on Sachin, he hurled a senti remark to combat my sarcasm which was something like, “Since when has money come in between friendship?”Hmmm…

I pondered Mr.Jante you think you can lure me into puffing 5 grands just on a weekend, which involves 36 hours of ruthless traveling?

Well actually he had.

The crafty politician that he is. He knows what bait to give to whom. Promise me a never-ever-heard-of-an-adventure and you have got me.

Hung up on Sachin (after vociferously denying all possibilities of being privy to his proposal) I call Samir. I try selling the idea to him. Surprisingly he who is known to be the rational and sensible person of the group hasn’t completely run down the idea yet. Hmm…blame it on my convincing skills or Samir’s practical side going for a siesta; he decides to sleep over it. As far as Sood was concerned, I just called him and told him that Thursday evening we are leaving for Delhi and we will come back on Monday. Keep your bag ready and meet us at Mumbai Central station on Thursday. That’s it. As usual he said, “Chalo! May I know the reason why we are doing this.” I said, “No.” “Theek hai…”he quiped.

Since then things picked momentum. Next day morning to my surprise Samir agreed. Called Sachin. Asked him to book the tickets. The excitement was palpable. We love doing such things don’t we?

We came to office on Thursday with our bags packed. But we were still 86th on waiting list. Everybody had almost given up. Then Sachin and Mumpy tried to use some of their 'pull'. (Dilliwallahs at the end of the day!)Train was of 4.55 p.m. and till 3.30 we were still waiting for the seat confirmation. At last at 3.40 we got the confirmation. The approach had worked. Long live corruption!

We boarded the train and ya..Sood dropped out coz last minute he had to wait back for a family friend who was to fly to Denmark from Mumbai and was supposed to stay with Sood.
The journey was good. Nothing much to write home about. Except that since we were on the corner 2 seats I slept up and it was like sleeping in a cupboard. They don’t care much for tall people like me.

Reached New Delhi at 10.Sachin apparently had lost his wallet at his place so he couldn’t leave home on time. By the time he left we had already reached the station. Came out. Sachin had told us that the auto fare would be around 50-60 bucks. Phir kya tha. Armed with the actual rate I set out to outwit the intellect of the Dilli auto wala who is much much smarter and craftier than his counterpart in Mumbai.

Reached Sachin’s place. Had a Ram-Bharat milap in the middle of the road outside his place. Got ready. Met Raman at Gola while having lunch. Left to meet Mumpy in his office at Nehru place. While coming back. I was gonna meet a chat friend of mind who ditched me.
And that was fodder enough for the junta to take my case during the whole trip.
Samir was very keen on seeing the monuments in Delhi. Drove to the Rashtrapati bhavan. Clicked some snaps. Reached minutes after the Mogul Garden closed for the day, so couldn’t see it. Went to India Gate. Raman had taken it upon himself to rush things up, whenever he used to see us settled at one place. “C’Mon dudes make it fast!!Come what may we must be on the road to Chandigarh by dusk!”

Mumpy and me left together to go to his place and the rest of the gang was to follow in Raman’s car and catch us at some bypass. Reached Mumpy’s place at 6.45pm.

Met up with aunty (ie Mumpy’s mom) The last time I had met her was two years back when we had been to Udhampur and Akhnoor.Teamed up with aunty and teased Mumpy a bit on his fiancée. Ate the spiciest cheese patties ever.

Left with Mumpy to join the gang at the bypass. Those assholes made us wait for 45 minutes before showing up.

Fastened the seat belts. Pumped up the volume. Felt the adrenaline rush.And the car was zooming towards Chandigarh. Vroooooom…..

Tuesday, February 08, 2005


Its 12.30 a.m. I am sittng at my desk. Serendipity. The Radio at Ajit’s table has started playing, “Jaane kya baat hai…”from Sunny. I get up as if in trance. Walk to his table. Pull a chair and sit. I sit and I listen. In my own reverie. Eyes close. I experience tranquility and upheaval at the same time. I do have that song in my comp, but the serendipity of the radio is too pleasant. When you least expect …

I like radio.

Saturday, February 05, 2005

One man standing…..

Disclaimer: These thoughts are my personal thoughts of which I feel very strongly about. These are not meant to preach or demean anybody’s feelings. This was there in my system for quite some time. I had to take it out.

It set me thinking. One man returning is going to change nothing. Is it really so?Is it really stupid to think otherwise?

If observed carefully the story of Mohan Bhargava in Swades spun by Ashutosh Gowariker will remind us about the life of a person we know. The situations may differ. The predicaments may have a different background. The disparity in the outcome might not be the same. But one thing ties both stories - The Reaction.

I am speaking about the story of none other than Mr.Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. Call it coincidence or deliberation that both are Mohan.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. A barrister from England. Starts a legal career in Bombay. Doesn’t make much of headway. Goes back to Rajkot. While living modestly in Rajkot takes up this contract to go to South Africa. The contract is for a year; the remuneration is £ 105, a first class return fare, and actual expenses. The fee is modest, and it is not quite clear whether he is being engaged as counsel or a clerk, but Gandhi wants to get away from Rajkot and accepts the offer with alacrity.
But fate has something else in stored for him. In a Durban court he is ordered by the European magistrate to take off his turban. He is unceremoniously thrown out of the first-class carriage at Maritzburg station.

The other Indians there pocket these humiliations as they pocketed their earnings.But not Mr.Gandhi. He initiates a protest. He initiates a protest against racial discrimination. Against using Identity cards by Indians to set them apart from the Goras and refuses them basic human rights. And the protest is not a, ”Inquilab Zindabaad” or a “Vande Mataram”. The protest is just burning of these identity cards in the town square. A gathering of around 20-25 odd people. Most of who had just come curiously to witness the histrionics of this over smart man called Gandhi. Buss. That’s it. With this modest beginning he gives shape to a philosophy. A philosophy, which had to be endorsed by the west for us to take cognizance. The philosophy of Satyagraha and Ahimsa. After having tasted blood by this humble beginning this man went on to make the South African government bow down to him and sign the Gandhi – Smuts agreement.

There Gandhi realized that one passionate man can make an impact. So he returned. Not with the intention of freeing India from the clutches of the British but to just go back and do something for the motherland. What happened in South Africa for this callow, diffident young man was inner transformation.

An intelligent Indian NASA scientist. A brilliant future ahead of him. Comes to India to meet his nanny. Takes notice of an India that he had just read and heard about but never seen and felt. The experience tugs his heart. He tries to do make a difference. He gets them out of darkness although in a literal sense. He goes back to his bright future. But the lure of the brightness doesn’t seem to entice him anymore. He returns. He returns to make a difference. He returns above all for himself. He wouldn’t have been able to live with it otherwise.

For those who think that Mohan Bhargava came back to India for the people in the village, then my dear friends you are sadly mistaken. He comes back for himself. That’s because there still exists the phenomenon called conscience in him, which compels him to come back. You know why? Because he realizes the difference that he can make in those villagers life. By bringing electricity to the village, he has tasted blood. Unless one actually does it, one would never know the difference that can be created. That’s exactly what happened with Mohan Bhargava. If he would have returned in a couple of days without doing anything much apart from jumping like a jack on 'yeh tara woh tara' he wouldn’t have come back. He would have cried for the country and its sorry state of affairs for a couple of months and then moved on with his bright future. That’s exactly why his Indian colleague can’t relate to him and advises him to stay back. Because he hasn’t seen and done something himself he can make a statement like, ”You think just by lighting a bulb you are going to change the system in India?” He can’t. Mohan knows it. So do we.

And realistically speaking he comes back not to become a schoolteacher or a social reformer. He toys with the idea of joining the Sarabhai Research center, which is enough to describe the profound maturity of the director.

I think there is enough merit in drawing a parallel of the reactions of Mohandas Gandhi and Mohan Bhargava. Injustice, poverty,disparity in lifestyles; all of it we see everyday. But what sets some people apart is their reaction to it. If politics and bureaucracy control the country now, it was far worse then, when Gandhi came into the picture.

And yes my friend if this would have been a Hollywood movie it definitely would have ended at the caravan driving out of the village. You know why? Because they are still new to this concept of conscience and its pangs. That’s exactly the reason we have a Gandhi and they don’t.

Its time we realized the power of ONE.

Thursday, February 03, 2005


Still not back from slumber land. Slept at 3.45 in office. Was woken up at 4.30a.m. by a security guard.Who was on a special mission of mailing some stuff to the Australia office urgently and that poor soul was having problems logging in and in a fit of panic thought I was his best bait to bail him outta the mess. Groggy and irritated I try to open my eyes piqued by the thought that how come its morning I just slept 15 mins back! And I see this masked man clad in black attire breathing down on me. For a moment I think I am a character from Van Helsing and this is the vampire ready to suck my blood. With a jolt I get up. Realization dawns and I hear the pleading tone of the security guard urging me to wake up. I am both amused and irked at the audacity of the guy who has mercilessly woken me up after a hard night’s toil.
Like a zombie I go down with him. Fix the comp. Sneak back in the sleeping bag. But sleep has decided to play flirty with me. After being pleased with herself about her efforts at teasing me she gets bored and chooses to depart. Leaving me stranded.


Lay a whisper on my pillow
Leave the winter on the ground
I wake up lonely, is there a silence
In the bedroom and all around
Touch me now, I close my eyes
And dream away...

It must have been love, but it's over now
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow
It must have been love, but it's over now
From the moment we touched till the time had run out

Make believing we're together
That I'm sheltered by your heart
But in and outside I turn to water
Like a teardrop in your palm
And it's a hard winter's day I dream away...

It must have been love, but it's over now
It was all that I wanted, now I'm living without
It must have been love, but it's over now
It's where the water flows, it's where the wind blows

It must have been love, but it's over now
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow
It must have been love, but it's over now
From the moment we touched till the time had run out

Even now after so long a tear drop still finds its way down my cheek.Hmmmmm...somethings go with you to the grave...

Night Shift

Its 1 a.m. in the night and I am still in the office. Trying to crack the creative for a campaign. A la Jhankar Beats. My art partner and me are struggling to think of something whackily creative to shove down the clients’ throat.Have just thought of something which according to us (after two drinks,Creativity needs fueling you see ;-))fits the strategy.Ab sab uparwale ke haath mein hai.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005


For those who have already seen the movie.Here's a review of Bhumika the movie.I hit upon some of the sub text of the movie that I had missed while watching it. This is how a review is to be written.Something that makes the reader think and wonder.
But we have to appease ourselves by the piece of s%^& that the Jitesh Pillais and the Nikhat Kazmi’s of the world churn out for us. Not to mention about the moron called Khalid Mohamed who thinks he knows it all but have a look at his movies and I think K.C.Bokadia makes better films than him. Mayank Shekhar in Mid-day has this aura of I am gonna run down any movie coming my way so you better watch out. But out of all these bunch of clowns I find him making a bit of sense.

Now if you are going to argue that there are no longer any movies like Bhumika to find the sub texts and present it to you gift wrapped, then I’d say go read the reviews of Maqbool, Choker Bali,Company,
Chandini Bar,Lagaan,Swades.

They are written just like they would write about a Kabhie Khushi Kabhie Gam and similar other awful movies. Same criteria of judging. No reading between the lines. No emphasis on nuances and a zero credence given to the art of layering.

You can find another good review of Umrao Jaan by our blogger friend The Letterhead who has really given an honest account of her reactions which make you ponder.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

So many things...

So many things to write about and soooo little time!Whew...

Saw Page 3 on saturday.

On sunday - Went for Natyotsav

Waman Kendre's "Madhyam Vyayog" on sunday.Not to mention the discussion session with Nasser bhai(Nasserudin Shah) after the play followed by the grand finale "Ismat aapa ke naam"

Monday - Atlast caught Choker Bali and luuuuved it!

To begin with...

Page 3.

Good Movie.Must see once for:
1.Boman Irani's gritty portrayal of the editor. He’s really got into the skin of this one. Very controlled yet sooo very effective.
2.Madhur’s honest effort at exposing the gliteratti’s and the chatteratti’s rotten side.
3.Konkana Sen’s genuine Madhavi Sharma.She looks the character.
4.Last but not the least.The ever reliable Atul Kulkarni. He conveys the angst and frustration of fighting a putrifying system oh so beautifully. He mouths one of my favourite lines,”You have to be a part of the system to change the sytem!”So true.
In the beginning albeit I was losing my patience because of the lack luster acting skills of most of the people cramming the frame initially. All of them being non-actors didn’t give me any solace. I wish Madhur could have relied on actors rather than the so called socialites that he had taken to convey his point. Only Soni Razdan stands out. Buss. Period. The rest of them suck. Nasser (NOT Nasserudin Shah!) is anything but an actor. Equipped with a squeaky voice and a macho personality the concoction is unintentionally hilarious. Dolly Thakur is awkward. (with all due respect ma’am. After knowing you as a teacher I couldn’t help but notice your uneasiness on screen.)
Sandhya Mridul rules. Good job. Tara Sharma sucks. She’s good to run around the trees but don’t you dare ask her to open her mouth. You will repent till you spit your guts out and your ears cant bear the brunt of the cacophony of her whiny voice.

Sunday was the orgasm for my theatremind. 4.00pm.Madhyam Vyayog.Dir-Waman Kendre.Me,Vineet,Parag and Kallu.
Mahakavi Bhas’s mythological drama. Waman Kendre’s skilful direction and the brilliant performance by Bhim and Ghatotkach. The orchestration and choreography was just mind blowing. The play proved to be a welcome change in genre. It was a full house and we had the audience sitting on the stairs. But full marks should also be given to the audience who encouraged the actors from time to time with their generous applause, infact there was a standing ovation at the end of the play.

Discussion with Nasserbhai. A dampner. The only thing worth writing home about - “Inspiration hits a person only when he’s prepared.”Profound.

The felicitation of Naseerbhai with Shyam babu and Satish Kaushik.
This thing went on and on. Finally Parag got fed up and left for home. Apparently he had a function to attend. Anyway we had subjected him to an overdose of theatre that day. Thank God he didn’t faint. Satish Kaushik’s speech was a riot. Like when he was narrating the incidences of his struggling days when, he had a small role to play in a film whose main lead was Nasser, Naseer had asked him then (Both were from NSD and knew each other quite well since the beginning), “Shooting dekhne aaye ho?”Satish had replied,”Nahi,acting karne aaya hoon!”
At last the play started at 9.45(It was about to start at 8.00)
Heeba did a fine job with Chuimui. (Although she hesitated a bit in between.)
Ratna Pathak with Mugal bachcha was effective. Nasser himself with lajo rocked. The story inherently is so well written that it gives an actor a lot of impetus to perform. Ismat aapa really is an amazing writer. She through her words manages to create such vivid images in our mind complete with their idiosyncrasies and nuances that we start feeling that we are actually witnessing the happenings of the tale firsthand on location! All in all a fitting end to a lovely day of theatre. Some other celebrities apart from us ;-)were,Milind Soman,Ashutosh Rana,Govind Namdeo etc.Also caught up with Kunal Khemu.Seems he’s pumped iron diligently. Apparently he’s all set to get into the hero mould.

Hush…. Now about choker Bali. What a wonderful movie. The atmosphere creation by Rituparno is brlliant.Takes us back to the Bengal of the 1940s.First of all I am biased about bong movies because I have this strong fascination towards anything bong…Bong writers have always had a deep impact on my psyche and style of wrting. Be it Sarat Chandra or Rabindranath both hold high positions in my realm of superior writers. Sometimes I find myself longing to be apart of the Bengal of the past. To live in that kind of a world. To be surrounded by diehard fanatics and downright romantics. Hmmmmm…anyways… Aishwarya as Binodini seems so perfect. I loved the way her character is established. The smallest of nuance didn’t escape my eye. She opened the heart of Binodini for us. Her longing. Her loneliness. Her wickedness. Her intelligent mind’s yearning. Her sarcasm. Everything is soo beautiful about her. Like when Mahendra is kissing her,with drowsy eyes she says that her husband died of TB and after looking at a terrified Mahendra the bout of laughter was such a sting. Wow! Special mention must be made of Raima Sen who exudes vulnerability to such an extent that you just wanna hold her close and protect her. My favourite is the scene when while drying clothes she sees the red mark on Binodini’s chest. What expressions!