Sunday Afternoons

I still remember the first time I met her. It was a hot April Sunday afternoon. We had bonded momentarily over the works of Satyajit Ray.  There was nothing extraordinary about her. Just another culturally inclined Bengali woman.

It’s hard for me to remember when exactly I developed feelings for her. But I believe it began almost a year and a half after we first met. On a despondent, rainy Sunday afternoon.  I was being driven mad by the tedious monotony of existence. And she came like a storm. No complexities, no intricacies. And she blew all the sewage away from my mind. Something extraordinary about her. She made everything seem effortlessly simple.

I remember the first time I heard her sing. It was a lazy, indifferent Sunday afternoon. I have heard a million songs in my life, but never before have I been filled instantly with an overwhelming flood of emotions.  After that day, her songs were treats I fervently anticipated. Like you wait for the next part of your favourite story when the last part has ended in a  cliff-hanger. Something extraordinary about her. It’s like the King of Ghosts from the aforementioned Mr. Ray’s films has gifted her the voice of an angel.

I remember our first day of courtship. It was a fading Monday evening. The world was rushing me by and then she appeared and just like that, as if by some powerful magic spell, the whole world froze. I don’t remember the conversation we had. I just remember feeling that I was finally home. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, as if afraid that if I did so, she would disappear and I would wake up. Something extraordinary about her. She could stop time and make a hopeless man dream.

In this journey of life, we often take each other for granted. We often forget the moments of magic. It would help, if on some idle, commonplace Sunday afternoon, we could recall those beautiful moments that make life worth living. It would help if we could remember the moments we fell in love. Because, as some great men once sang, all you need is love, love is all you need.

My City

My dear beloved city.

You hate me.

You love me.

You tower high above me;

And yet you never look down

On me.You’re always around

When I need you.

Sometimes we fight,

Playfully like old friends

Sometimes you stab me

From the back

Right in my heart.

You kill me with your cruelty

Because you know

I will still love you.

My cruel,heartless city.

You’re an old friend

Who understands my pains.

And like a twisted nemesis

You exploit them.

And leave me reeling

Time and again.

And as I fall,you laugh

Like the sadist you are.

Because you know

I will still love you.

You Just Got Censored

Foreword:Read this quickly.No telling when the censor guys come around and censor the sense out of this little ol' post.

So the entire internet community is in an uproar over Kapil Sibal’s attempt to censor material on certain sites on the internet.And can you blame them?The internet is supposed to be free.No not THAT free-that’s illegal and called piracy,shame on you if you indulge in it.By free I mean the freedom of speech-the freedom to call someone a douche bag sitting in your dark basement room trying to sound badass and dissing movies on message boards.Yes I know you also use the internet to search for erotica-shame on you again.Point is the internet allows you freedom real life doesn’t.So naturally censoring the internet WILL cause an uproar.People will be angry.But from experience and history we know that people are as often right as they are wrong.So let’s analyze this a bit.

Does the internet need a guardian?That’s the first question.I would say yes it does.We all know of cyber frauds,cyber crimes,etc.So yes it does need a guardian.Next question-does content on the internet need to be censored?Suprising though it may seem,the answer is YES IT DOES.The most obvious question which arises next is why?Well for many reasons-For example,suppose someone uploads a formula for making bombs,suppose some fundamentalist is spreading his warped twisted theories and brainwashing young people.There can be various other reasons but I think we have established the fact that yes often content on the internet needs to be censored.For the greater good (Winks).

Now comes the question-is the Indian government right in censoring material on the internet?My first reaction is that it depends-if he’s going to censor what some teenager writes on Facebook then it’s absolutely pointless.Yeah many people may abuse politicians on the internet but it’s not causing them any harm is it?Cricketers and filmstars have been getting this hatred for ages-the fanboys of two rival superstars in India are always at loggerheads and abusing the holy hell out of each other.So this basically seems kinda pointless if not downright petty and fascist.However if this censorship is used to censor some bank robber somewhere from planning a bank robbery with his fellow robbers on Facebook or something like that then I guess it’s useful.The last line sounds mindblowingly stupid no?That’s because it is.

In the end I would have to say I don’t know if Mr Sibal has any hidden agendas or motives (he’s a clever man no doubt) behind this,but I’d have to say up front this sounds a really bad idea-one which has expectedly not found close to as much love among the internet community as Kolaveri Di.

The Sands of Time

The grass withereth,the flower fadeth;

Time goes on and dreams go dead.

Unanswered prayers become forgotten,

Dreams of the young grow cold and rotten.

The mundane weighs heavily on him

Penance for some inadvertent sin?

The stars call out but his sky is black;

This hopeless reality holds him back.

Some dark cloud follows him around.

It sheds no light and it makes no sound;

It rains down heavily and extinguishes

The bright flames of his deepest wishes.

He could have,but didn’t want to run away

Coulda escaped but he’d much rather stay

Than take the easy road ,betray his kind;

Sell out his spirit-his very soul and his mind.

And now he’s tired and the hour is late,

His feelings are rusted,his dreams all dead .

The grass withereth;The flower fadeth.

Fun?Not Exactly! What bothers and annoys me about the Pujas

So the festive season is here.People all around are dee-lighted and basking in the festive atmosphere(I have no idea what that means).Except me.And NO,I am not an atheist,I don’t have anything against idol-worship or the Goddess.I dislike a lot of things about the Pujas pertaining to the mortals who celebrate it.Here's some of them:

1.Overcrowded streets-The streets,roads,alleys,by-lanes are all overcrowded,and all you can see around you is an ocean of human heads.Someone’s elbow hits you on the back,you try to turn and bump your head against someone,someone treads on your foot,you try to jump and accidentally hit an old guy behind you and everyone around stares at you like you’re the worst human being in the world.How is THAT any fun?

2.The walking-It may be just me,but some evil psychotic friends of mine love walking during the pujas.Mile after mile after mile.Maybe they derive some kind of sick masochistic pleasure from this because I simply don’t get what’s the fun in walking for hours in the scorching heat or the rain,tiring yourself out and ruining the new clothes you’ve just broken out.

3-Overpriced/Low quality food-I don’t know what is it during the pujas,but it seems the price of food increases and the quantity/quality decreases during Pujas.If you want to get into a barely average restaurant you have to wait for 3 hours outside to get that overpriced food.I am sorry but this is fun-HOW?Am I missing something?

4-Noise pollution-Yes,noise pollution.The puja pandals all playing the latest Hindi chartbusters in full volume.Somehow I really don’t think the Goddess really wants to hear that during the Pujas.However it could be just me,and maybe everyone really enjoys the trashy Bollywood songs played during the Pujas.

5-The theme pandals-This is what annoys me the most perhaps.The pujas have now become gimmicks,gimmicks to win various awards.Whatever happened to the good old sabeki pandals,where there won’t be 40000 people at a time and where you can sit and chat with your friends/family? The homely feeling associated with those times just isn’t present in these theme pujos.It feels like a mockery.

Did I mention the food?Oh yes...I did.Sorry...well that’s that then.So basically these are the stuff about the Pujas which bother me.things I don't like.But to all those who do,have a blast!Enjoy yourselves.

This Ol' Town

The old man has lost his glasses

The little boy’s scared of a clown

The young man lost a friend  tonight.

And the sheriff-he’s lost this town.

The night is oh so very black.

Clouds hide the stars & the moon

The scared little boy’s now happy.

His father has bought him a balloon.

A thug comes out of the shadows

His hands clasp a shiny metal.

A shot rings out through the night.

The old man-he cries out and falls.

The sheriff has his head in his hands.

He’s watched his beloved town fall

He’s watched them take over the city

And there is no one he can call.

The young man shivers-it’s cold

He’s walking these streets alone

His friend went to join the army

Young lad never came back home

This town has come alive tonight

It’s like an autocrat on crack.

It’s twisted like a psychopath’s mind.

Can we ever take this ol’ town back?

The Lonely Rider

The western sky grows crimson

The sun sets below the horizon

Folks end their work for the day

But the lonely rider rides on.

He hasn’t slept a wink in days

His mates have gone  their separate ways

He’s been left to ride alone

Left to wander on his own.

Our lonely hero wears a frown

Wanders about from town to town

Singing songs and righting wrongs

Stopping awhile in this journey long.

He comes in every day and age

Angry as the fire,calm as a sage

Whenever people need someone

He will be there, he’s their man.

And after he’s saved the day.

He’ll be  off again on his way.

On his horse,to meet his fate

Riding away into the sunset.

Broken Memories

I had some time to think about the past

The smiles,the tears,the unbroken trust;

That time of life when we all were naive

And yet we had the time of our lives.

We had not a care in this whole wide world

Would end up like this,who coulda foretold?

Our lives were simple and our biggest worries-

Were about the heroes in adventure stories.

We should have known it was too good to last

Those days are memories covered with dust

Now even in victory we cannot seem to win

Can’t seem to fight off the demons within.

Perhaps we changed,perhaps we lost our faith

Maybe that’s the reason our love turned to hate

Perhaps all we need to do is find the kid within

Perhaps we need to stop always trying to win.

Maybe if we weren’t too busy hunting glory

We could have had our own Cinderella stories:

Too late for a fairy tale for this world weary traveller

Too late for “and everyone lived happily ever after.”

Letter to the Indian media

Dear Indian media,

I woke up today morning,got the newspaper and a full page advert of the Indian Premier League jumped out at me.The front page converted to a full page advert.This was the case with both the newspapers I read.Same thing happened when I open the TV.Regarding this I have some points for not just the print media but the entire Indian media.

I am not a politically inclined person.I keep track of the  political happenings of the country but I am not much interested in politics.However as living in this country you can’t help knowing some things like India winning the cricket World Cup or an Aamir Khan movie is releasing,Similarly you can’t help knowing about certain things-Like the IPL scam,the Adarsh society scam.Like the 2G scam.Like all the other scams.So I happen to know as any ordinary Indian would that there is something wrong.There is corruption in this country.Now that we have established the fact that corruption does exist,We come to our next point-Anna Hazare.I happened to hear that a man called Anna Hazare has started a fast-unto-death protest against corruption.I came to know from a Facebook note even more about this man and this bill he is proposing.And even to a non-political person like me it seemed to be a very important news story.Much much more important than the Indian Premier League-which is no doubt a showcase event for the country but in all fairness that’s what the sports pages at the end are for.So I want to make certain points.

1)What made you think that the IPL’s advert is more important than not alone the Anna Hazare story but than any other story happening in the country.Can you explain?

2)There has been a tendency to highlight even the most trivial issues related to showbiz and cricket.Like how a certain model promises to bare all if the team wins the cricket world cup.Like how  a starlet experienced a wardrobe malfunction,like how an Indian cricketer may get married,like how a certain actor is experiencing bad luck due to the stars.WHY ARE YOU SELLING NEWS AND NOT REPORTING IT?

3)I notice certain news channels-in fact almost all-try to portray certain political parties in a good light.All the while either taking potshots at the other party if not directly blaming them for so and so incident.Why is that?WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE SPIN DOCTORS?

You may think that since the TRPs keep coming the so the viewers must really like it,but you have no idea.Certain late night news channel anchors have become a mockery on certain social networking sites.Certain regional language news channels are the butt of jokes.That’s what you guys are turning yourselves into.A circus.Of course there are exceptions but they are far and few.If people watch news now that’s  because it amuses them.The same way they love watching TV soaps and Reality shows.Speaking of which some of you actually have programmes to analyze the happenings of the teleserials and bring people the latest inside scoop.You are putting the idiot in the idiot box have no illusions about that.Maybe it’s high time you should stop worrying about earning TRPs and sponsorship money and started worrying about earning respect.

Yours truly,

An annoyed ordinary Indian.

The Night

I stand between the gargoyles , above the tower at night

It’s pouring down and windy-there ain’t  a soul in sight

I think about the good things and the bad things I have done

And all I seem to come up with is how that night I run;

Since then his ghost has haunted me-kept me up at nights

Till he drove me to insomnia,to these dizzying heights.

So now I stand so high above ground-yet my head hangs low

I jump into the dark and silent night, Quietly I let go.

The dark night,

The silent night,

The sympathetic night,

The cruel night,

The just night.

My best friend is the night.

My worst nightmare is the night.

It knows all my secrets.