Khush raho ahde watan...Hum to safar karte hain

It’s my last day today at LB (Although I will be comin on 30th but still). It’s been a wonderful 3 years. This place has made me whatever I am today. Over here I have experienced times when I was at the top of the world. On very few occasions I felt let down. And mind you I am not being diplomatic. Coz this is the place which gave me my first break. I owe it to these guys. Ohhhh… I am feeling sooo sentiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!

This is probably the last time here that I am typing a post. This was the desk wherein I formed my blog. This was the desk wherein I got all the info that I got…. This was the desk where I came out with my first ad…my first jingle…my first award…

K da…what can I say bout him…he has left an indelible impact on my psyche. In fact he was the one who got me here in the first place. My film guru.

P sir… who has always stood by me throughout everything…been a wonderful boss… Pa sir…always working hard…always up to some award winning campaign…an institution in himself…we had the semi-hug (a la Joey-Chandler style awkward hug) abhi sometime back…

Oh…somehow cant get over the feeling that I wont be sitting here…taking Coke briefs from M…infact someone else would be sitting in my place and typing on the keypad that I am typing on right now…opening the samwe drawer where everyday I used to keep my wallet…

Kya koi nayi baat nazar aati hai hum mein…
Aaina hume dekh ke hairan sa kyon hai…
Seene mein jalan aankhon mein toofan sa kyon hai….
Iss shehar mein har shaks pareshan sa kyon hai…





M, V n S chatting

The big P at his work desk, working late as usual

My work desk

The G gang

Nutan climbing down

Phir Hazaron...

Saw Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi again yesterday. And again I quivered at the sheer passion the movie exudes. The rawness of it just slithers down your spine choking your senses while cleansing them at the same time. It’s a piece of work that never fails to inspire me. It’s a composition that shakes me up from within, slaps me across my face and then takes me in its arms and lets me cry.

It makes me feel responsible. It makes me feel irresponsible too. It makes me want to reach out. It makes me want to withdraw.

When I hear ‘Man ye bawraa…” I identify with the anguish that Vikram must have gone through.

And when I hear ‘Bawraa man’ I feel its written for me. I feel it’s written for anybody who has a heart. A heart that hasn’t yet lost touch with its own beat.

My previous post on Hazaron is here.