Insane Nutjob Services. That's what it should stand for. Jeez. The last time I got my viza (purposeful) documentation, they made me a Canadian citizen. This time around, they've made me a Bahraini citizen. like WTF, mate? What is this, Around the World in Red Tape?

Overheard on the radio, during a cab ride:

"Lobbyists are pushing their case to ban the usage of the words "penis" and "vagina" during sex education classes in schools. When asked by the press as to alternative terminology, they did not have comments".

Retarded how people are?

Best bit of feedback I've received on Kaise so far, comes from mah homegirl, Shivani, who says that the song borrows a lot of subliminal influence from Darren Hayes' Strange Relationship - which btw was such an underappreciated underdog of a brilliant track - and that influence works even in the lyrical sense, considering that both songs are nearly about the same thing.

Curious, considering that I haven't heard that track in decades. But I guess somethings linger on.

You know the part I love in Strange Relationship, is when he goes "Well, maybe if that's a fact, may I suggest, a brand new plan of attack". I thought the word meter and the rhythmicity (Webster's prolly going 'WTF mate?') of those lyrics are sheer brilliance.

"Imagine. Somewhere in the world there is a man who is actually allowed to kiss her"

A line from Notting Hill in reference to Julia Roberts who plays the movie star, Anna Scott. Rather touching. Although I do feel that the movie should've ended when Hugh Grant overhears her telling her co-star that he was, in fact, just a minor aspect of her past.

But the "Ain't No Sunshine" sequence-montage that goes across various seasons was the moment that made the movie for me.

In other news, I love the way the British use adjectives. Its simply marvelous.

Al Jarreau's performance at the Naming Ceremony for the Freedom of the Seas blew me away. He's nearly 70, and the energy and smoothness with which he accentuates his jazz is awe-inspiring.

Made me think a lot of the complexities in the intricate chord structures of jazz, and whether there is a bridge where Indian elements can fit in. I'm not talking about Shakti and Louis Banks, where they have two disparate elements coming together in the oft-cliched "Fusion" style of music. I'm talking about delicate flurries which give the song an Indian feel.

Well, I know its difficult to visualize what I'm talking about, so I developed an instrumental slow jazz piece with a keyboard-saxophone lead to give you an idea. You'll catch the delicate Indian flavor in the lower registers of the song, but thematically, the overall feel is smooth jazz. What began with a little bit of research into jazz chords, has turned into a fairly decent instrumental theme. So for all you cool cats, here's Bittersweet Bliss (BEST Experienced on Koss, or any other headphones) and you'll see the bittersweetness in the snappy alterations from major to minor throughout the song. Very curious chord structure, which was challenging to develop, but fun nevertheless, and don't miss the minor chord at the end which completely diverts the listener's attention. It was an essential (and impromptu) last minute decision, because I didn't want a honeysweet ending to this track. and hence the title.

Never make that person your priority, to whom you are just an option. Ominous, yet true.

On that sombre note, here's Kaise Kaise. Its less of a song, and more of a thought process. So, I thought I'd share. Its one of the many tracks that I keep private and locked up in a folder somewhere. This one reminds you of how often, and how definitively, things change.

And just how pretty is the acoustic version of She Will Be Loved(Maroon5)?

The piano track in the background of Mary J. Blige's "No More Drama", is the theme track to the "Young and the Restless". Although originally written for a very lame movie that never made it anywhere, the song was selected as a theme track for Y&R but gained its crucial five minutes of fame, where Nadia Comaneci performed her routine with this track as the backround. Since then, this tune has come to be known as "Nadia's theme".

Just tripping to No More Drama, which I think is a really succinct track.

Ok ... serious question. PFlirt and I were hanging around Oak Tree Road, Edison, people-watching, one day, when we spotted this ad for Hakoba Sarees, which I think in itself, is a devastatingly attractive name. I mean, just by hearing the word HAKOBA (sizzle!), it makes you want to go out and get bedecked in a couple of yards.

Now, that brings me to the question. Isn't the model a guy? I mean ... YES! ... its a GUY in a pink saree! WHAT?

How scary is that? Why would you use a guy to promote a saree shop?

Talking of gay guys in sarees, Paresh - your commenting on every blog entry of mine makes it seem like you're the only one who reads my blog. As undeniably fascinating as that is, a little discretion on infallibly resorting to topics of a gay nature everytime. I know you're proud of your basic orientation, but ....

In case you're wondering, THIS is where I'll be this weekend :-)

Man, I really wanna see Brick

Phenomenal reviews, and a very, very curious previewline. And to add to that, accolades at Sundance for a first-time director. Shyte.

A must-check-out!

An inherent difference...

...between Indian youngsters here and those in India... something I discovered recently, in more clarity.

In India, you see a disparate and startling difference between attitudes when dealing with their friends, and when dealing with their elders. They are absolute goofballs when they're with their friends, but when it comes to somber things like prayers, traditions, respect to elders - they are totally different people. Take the scene in RDB when Aamir's grandad walks in, and Aamir looks at Siddharth and goes, "Karan. Bujhale" (asks Karan to extinguish his cigarette). Its a minor gesture, but it shows where these kids come from.

That's missing here. Although I find it cool that kids here take their parents and elders to be equals, and treat them on par with their friends, I only see a handful - a miniscule pinch, really - of them actually displaying a degree of due respect. Maybe its because the generations here have a more lackadaisical approach when bringing up their kids, and are so wrapped up with sorting their own lives, their status, their taxes and their paychecks, that they don't get around to (don't have the time to) substantially convey those meaningful values from the des, on to their kids. In the bargain, these kids are brought up more dominantly by others (daycare/school), and that results in their complete Americanization. The balance is lost, and when they hit their teens, they earn the much-hated sobriquet-acronym title of an 'ABCD'. And then you have the parents, who somewhere between filing their tax extension and switching insurance companies, stare at their heavily-pierced, spiky-highlight-haired, cuss-mouthed disrespectful offspring and think, "where did we go wrong?".

The year is 2006. Do you know who your kids are?

Just Jew It


#1049 - Film Seminar on Iranian TV: Tom and Jerry - A Jewish Conspiracy to Improve the Image of Mice, because Jews Were Termed "Dirty Mice" in Europe

Un-freaking-believable.

What's next? Elmer Fudd is a skinhead closet Neo-Nazi? Bugs Bunny is a advocate for oppressed and disciminated homosexuals? Are those really carrots?

Thanks for the link, Xinu.

I wrote Humsafar for my parents on their 25th wedding anniversary on May 7th, 2004. This year they celebrate their 27th! Wow! Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad.

In serious attempts to draw Simpson's characters, using the keyboard:

Marge

@@@@@:>)

Homer

(_8^()

Hyuk hyuk. So this is what I do at work ;-)

T'was the Shaqster who introduced me to the concept of khalkhalash without rice. Its just lamb and chicken with the trademark sauces (or as the men say it best why soss, hoth soss?). No salad, no rice, no pita, no need. Just some serious meat. Like a straightforward conversation without the b.s. and topical innuendos. Of course, its a clogmaster, so not everyday. But just when you feel like being proud to be non-vegetarian :-) NV-ious?

Aight, so here goes my take on Brokeback Mountain.

Its more than a gay movie. Its a muffled diatribe on how depressing life can be, how unfair things can get. But for me, after much thought and comprehension, I reckon that the signature of Ang Lee on this film, is the fact that there is no clear 'resolution'. I love that. I love the fact that he leaves things bittersweet, unexplained and mysteriously disdainful, even down to the fact that Jake is shown to have been contemplating 'cheating' (?) on Heath, prior to his death (murder).

Its unanswered whether Jake's dad has anything to do with his death - being a hardcore homophobic redneck (also Heath mentions a similar feeling about the incident when he was 9).

But truly, Heath Ledger's character was crafted with the utmost care. During the first sexual encounter, although Heath fights Jake tremendously, he does exhibit some kind of homosexual promiscuity. Basically, he doesn't seem like a novice. An incessant rebel without a cause, Heath seems to be 'angry' with the fact that he is attracted to Jake, and feels this love for him. That's a very curious emotion to portray effectively on screen, and Heath scores (yeah he does).

But more than a gay cowboy movie, BM explores the sinusoidal vagaries of human destiny. It asks some deep moral questions. Sometimes the things that bring you the most happiness, may not be the ones that may be right for you. Does that mean you don't pursue them? Just because the world around you has set these precedents because of prevailing and over-powering stigma, does it mean that you forgo your right to be happy? The best part is, BM doesn't preach gay pride, nor empower gay emotions. Its just a sad on-screen depiction of an unfortunate and bittersweet story, with an ending that, quite like real life, doesn't 'come out of the closet' to explain itself.

In other news, Bush is a jerk.

Interlud-icrous

I'm all about the interludes today. Some instrumental solos from tracks that stand out and exclaim their presence and definition. Here are my top picks:

(1) Slash's Guitar Soliloquy (much more than a solo), in GNR's November Rain
(2) The Flute Solo in Tanhai (OST - Dil Chahta Hai, Music - Amar/Akbar/Anthony)
(3) The Weeping Violin Solo in Karunesh's Punjab

Also, did you notice the delicate rhythm and piano-based mood change in Khuda-Haafiz (OST-Yuva, Music: ARR). Verse 3 goes completely into jazzy Swing with touching piano flurries, and then blend back flawlessly, when Lucky Ali goes "Anjaana".

Ah, its official. Sun lo. Music is my raison d'etre.

And yes, big up to mah homegirl, Dubai's very own Mistress of Spices, for a fun long convo, ranging from (yes, i'll say it) gay sex to GlaxoSmith. Piece!

Oh wow. There's crazy. There's insane ... and then there's David Blaine.

This is just plain WILD. I'm gonna go check this out tomorrow, will come back with pictures! :-)

Not so 'blunt' after all...

Its difficult to administer a pre-judgement of James Blunt's vocal range and comfort level at higher octaves, if you listen to "You're Beautiful" for the first time. When he starts with "My life is brilliant", you assume that he's a low-rider, but then he launches into the main (keyword:non-falsetto) chorus, without any kind of warning, even though the quality of voice may seem kind of scratchy and unclean to a first-time listener, but Blunt grows on you with sharp turns and delicate notes. I also love the way he falsettoes "f***in' high" (or for those who heard the radio edit, "flyin' high") even though he doesn't need to.

I bray for your souls....

In the words of our eternal School Supervisor, Mr. K.L.P.D. Joseph, "Awride Chil-wren, com to the yassumblee hole for the brayer".

Wat a dumbass. No, I mean it. Dum-Bass. As in, the fish (No, Curious Mallu Person, not the guitar) Its my word of the day (thanks to my 'acquired taste'). Dum-Bass. Dum-Bass. I have been pissing off people all day with it - fellow employees, subway workers and random Middle Eastern food cart vendors (who are rather pissed off as it is, and threatened to douse me with Hot Soss). Learn it Children. Dum-Bass. emphasis on the B. Dumb-Bass. As Joseph would spell it . "Dee, You, Yem, Bee, Yay, Yes, and yet another Yes".

And for those who are more of the visual kind, here's an example of an under-rated dum-bass.

Magnum "Opus"

Opus Dei's response to the Da Vinci code is quite intriguing. Hard to tell if they're being defensive, or just plain honest. Ah, don't we all love conspiracy theories?

Desperately Seeking Sa Trincha

Does anyone know where I can get my hands on a Single CD (Import will do) of Jon Sa Trincha's self-titled track? Its an amazing Ibiza-trance track, one of those melodious-ambient-psychadelics - (goes well with chronic).

Meanwhile .. sample Churate.

Extremists! Nothing but a bunch of misguided fundamentalists, who lack fundamentals, itself! People who need to take a step behind, backtrack and realize that each day, they are taking our world closer to oblivion, and lowering the collective global conscience curve. We're metres away from damnation, and its soulless religious mavericks, like them, who are assuring us front row seats to the show. What shocks me is how pointless it all is? What price independence .. or freedom ... or communal superiority, when international secularism itself has been interred without a dignified tombstone, even.

Aight, by public demand, a cleaner, unplugged version of Deewana, here.

I'm too busy trying to figure out if Manhattan will be achievable on Monday morning, with all the burritos and muchachos on strike. Damn - guess this means no delivery boys. Gotta step OUT for lunch. Life sucks.

This is the ONLY thing on me wishlist. The Strke/AP rendition of the song DEFINES my college years, when I discovered Claude Challe's godliness. These downtempo lounge dubs are PHENOMENAL. Check out the samples, get hooked ... and don't just call her, STALK her ;-) (what a lame ass teen movie line, N)

Bono at last year's commencement at Penn. What a speech!

I get the moving through a crowd and interrupting a loud cellphone talker part, but why say "Excuse me" when you request someone's attention at a store? Isn't that their job, to give you their attention and earn a commission? Why "excuse" yourself - is it such a heinous sin, to get them out of their daydreaming and nail-filing to help you buy your merchandise? Hmph. The kind of parameters we set for ourselves, and expect to follow them, all the live long life. Part of us are too pre-occupied to question it, and most of us are too lazy to modify it.

Funny enough was my colleague, Debashish, from India, who made the glorified mistake of asking a "person of African descent" for directions in SoHo. So, while Denzel keeps ending every statement with "knowhatimsayin", young Debashish keeps clarifying "yes, I do know what you are saying, sir" - to the extent that Jamal goes "You making funna me, n****?".

Bengal's son Debashish is a little too dark for you to notice his black eye.

Make Music, Not War. Turning rifles into guitars - pure genius!

Yes, I know. I've been out of circuit, out of commission - whatchamaycallit. But in the words of an inane governor, I'll be Bach!

http://www.cnn.com/2006/SHOWBIZ/Movies/04/23/cruise.holmes.reut/index.html

Get outta here!!

My muse - Elisha Cuthbert ..... My song - Deewana

You know the drill - rough track, 4 AM recording. But 'catchy tune' is something i'm getting ever so often, so do check it out.

Ek Pal Ke Liye - Ankahee (listen to the Sonu Nigam version, all the others are trash)

You can literally see the influences on Pritam's music staring out at you...

The line "Ek Pal Ke Liye" ... the verse of O Haseena Zulfon Waali ("Garm hain, shaukh hain, yeh nigaahein meri")

The line "Phir kya ho kya khabar" all the way till "Phir ho na jaaye seher" .... "Lafzon mein keh na sakun" by Abhijeet Sawant

Pritam, aan milo?

They're taking the subway fares up AGAIN? Man!

The MTA is seriously a reverse ATM -> it just keeps taking money away from you, people!

PFlirt: see you have these 3 personalities
PFlirt: i have detected
PFlirt: there is the Working Vish
PFlirt: the 9-5er, he wishes, who is like a regular working future ceo, killing himself and slaving and giving a f***
PFlirt: then there is the Weekend Vish
PFlirt: who is the opposite of Working Vish
PFlirt: see above line and put not behind all the words
PFlirt: then there is the what should I call him Vish
PFlirt: the Chilled Vish
PFlirt: the guy that is all knowing, the guy that is able to take you anywhere in NJ or NYC and even to places that don't exist and the guy that can write a song based on a sentence, the guy that can make you laugh and the guy that is basically the S***
PFlirt: so what's the difference between weekend vish and chilled vish you ask

PFlirt: about 8 drinks
PFlirt: basically, weekend vish was chilled vish until he takes the bus into NYC

wow ....... what more can I say ..... we are in the company of genius, people .....

Hazy weekend, and I don't imply the weather. Saw "Thank You for Smoking" at a party in Manhattan (yes, one of those shady "Phyve Dollah Phyve Dollah" DVDs from the subway), and I've gotta admit - that's quite an interesting sarcomedy there. It had its inspired moments, with the hard-hitting subtitles at key moments, but there was lack of uniformity in that segment - i.e. there shouldve been more of those. Otherwise - the political incorrectness. Forced at times, pleasing at some. All in all - worth a watch, and im glad this movie is out of the "select theatres" category, and has been upgraded to "a theatre near you" ;-)

The Best Ad for a Law firm, specializing in divorces and separations! Pure Genius. Courtesy of one of the best patient flirts I know.

"Is true love a trip to Chinatown
Or being held in one's opium gaze
Under the peach trees
There I'll sit and wait

Is true love a long walk through Bryant park
Or being held in the month of May
under the peach trees
There I will be, will be until you come and get me

Cause I'm so tired of waiting in restaurants
reading the critics and comics alone
With a waiter with a face made for currency
Like a coin in ancient Rome"

- Peach Trees, Rufus Wainright

Rufus seriously had a love affair with the city of New York. However, the "waiter with a face made for currency" line still rings in my ears - key descriptive ability. Kinda takes the foci away from the central element, but then Peach Trees was always a mysterious track. A song from the soundtrack of the movie, Prime - which has a really really awesome make-out scene between Uma Thurman and Bryan Greenberg. Very heartfelt.

And of course, the line of the weekend - Nicole recounted the oft-remembered, oft-forgotten line from The Bachelor, "Its amazing to be with someone who looks at you when you're old, and sees what you think you look like". Ah, so well put. I'll have what that writer was drinking when he wrote that.

Peace.

so what would you rather be - a tease or a whore? maybe you'd like to be a hybrid variety ... like a twore or a whease. but i know certain people who are quite content being patient flirts, or pflirts.

if you didn't understand any of this, join the Society to Ban Delirious Blogging Between the Hours of 5 and 6 AM (I would abbreviate that, but I'm not THAT retarded - emphasis on THAT).

'Fasana' was born last week. Rough trial available here.

Props to M for some wicked guitarwork. You rule!

Thievery Corporation RULEZ!!!!! Buy or Sample their CD NOW!

The Jews have Jon Stewart. African-Americans have Dave Chapelle. C'mon people, even the Mehicans have Carlos Mencia. Isn't it time a desi comedian got a stand-up act on ComCen? Oye Russell. Somebody's gotta get a show real bad!

Today was officially the first beautiful day of Spring for me. Just a gentle breeze, perfect weather. Lou's Cafe on 5th Ave. opened up its outdoor patio. Had a comfortable sit-down date with False Impression, biting on a Caesar Salad and sipping on my Pinot Noir, after work. No, I don't pretend to like Pinot just because of Sideways, I really have respect for that grape.

In other news, FOBs are getting beaten badly by the new immigration laws. Makes me think that FOB should now stand for "F***ed Over by Bush". Peace, people. Have a Good Friday, and a F'Easter.

http://www1.yashrajfilms.com/fanaa/fanaa_teaser.htm

Fanaa ... Aamir .... Kajol ....

In order to describe Kajol in her comeback vehicle, I'd like to do a Janice .... ahem ... OH ... MY ... GOD!

I can either be employed or funny ... take your pick ....

work is significantly hazardous to my (non)sense of humor.

new discovery.

Book of the Year: The much-awaited False Impressions by Jeffrey Archer - out now in hardcover for $27.15. Finally! This book has been out in India and Europe for over half a year now, and I find it quite annoying that my friends and family have access to an Archer before me. But as for the book, its written in true Archeristic twist-in-the-tale style, FI is quite a whirlwind, and keeps me totally occupied on the Manhattan bus commute. Oops, correction, its Lord Jeffrey Archer who (according to the book's jacket) spent six years serving in the House of Lords and two serving in Her Majesty's prisons. You've been Served, Archie ;-)

"aur zara si de de saaqi ... aur zara si ... (hic)"

I have always been curious about the connotations between the Urdu term "saaqi" (meaning, wine-bearing damsel - kinda like a Urdustani Geisha) and the poet, Saki. A few discussions with some well-read associates led me to understand that Saki was the pen-name of Burmese reactionary, Hector Munro, who was a predominant misogynist and Anti-Semite.

Truth is, that he did borrow his pseudonym from the name of the cup-bearer in the Rubaiyyat of Omar Khayyam, "Saki". :-)

Although there is no relation between Saki and the word, sarcasm - most of his writing is highly sarcastic (albeit, hilariously well-worded). Wonder why? I learnt that Munro's mom was reportedly killed by a runaway cow in England. Now, wouldn't that be enough of an experience for one to view the world through crap-colored lenses? Runaway COW, people! jeez!

Yes! Its finally here! The Tribeca Film Festival!

The alternative artistry that makes New York so authentically New York! When people pack into Loews to watch 30 minute - 125 minute movies that didn't make it mainstream because people didn't have the time to evaluate or value these unsung artisans. Its good to take a break from our laugh-a-riot or space-voyaging or pre-pubescent's-riding-broomsticks-while-people-who-need-a-haircut-watch-on adventures - to appreciate something that got lost in the crowd of mad box-office dollar-hunters - meaningful, quality cinema.

Tickets go on sale today, and I'm already picking out my choices to check out! There's also an Indo-inspired flick called "Return to Rajapur" in there somewhere. So many choices, so little time.

2:00 AM. Messing with Audacity.

This one's still got a few rhythmic issues - mainly cuz no one's willing to sponsor me some real DJ mix software. But I think its a cool concept.

Check it out here. I call it "Rising Temperature".

I'm sorry but don't stories like this - just add more fuel to the fire of biased racist opinion towards a particular community being far more belligerent than others?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060407/ap_on_go_co/mckinney_scuffle

holla back, n****?

Ah. How interesting.

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/1473395.cms

Better ‘Saif’ Than Sorry

An informal chit-chat with Saif Ali Khan

I had the exceptional opportunity of interacting with Saif while he was touring for the Temptations concert series across the country. With a whirlwind schedule, he rarely had the time to sit down and take a quick breath. The ground management team had been deputed to receive him from La Guardia at 5 am. Usually stars are late, but this time, the ground team were the ones who showed up 20 minutes late. And there was Saif, busily instant messaging on his cellphone. He was an image of energy and zeal, and hardly showed any signs of jet tiredness. And most importantly, he didn’t reprimand them for being late at all. He brushed it off with a simple “Hota hai, yaar”.

Through out the limo drive from La Guardia to his hotel in midtown Manhattan, he continued to show his exclamation at New York City Traffic, which is not too different from Mumbai City with the exception of cattle, two-wheelers and rickshaws. Although the initial symptoms of jet lag were kicking in, he was exuberantly ready for a quick chat.

With regards the upcoming Kerry-Bush Debate, whom do you support?

Frankly I really don’t know the technical difference of being a Republican or a Democratic since I haven’t lived in this country or understood its political policies.. It really doesn’t matter to me as long the party who wins support India.

You’ve been all over America as part of the Temptations Tour. Which is your favorite place to be?

Are you kidding me? New York City, of course! I had a wonderful time with the entire cast and crew of Kal Ho Naa Ho. The best part about the Big Apple is the fact that every time you are here, you feel that there is still so much more to explore. I can never be bored in New York. There’s always so much to do.

Which is your favorite shopping area in New York?

Without doubt, the Village.

What are your favorite designers?

I adore Ralph Lauren’s Polo and DKNY. I really like the Diesel collection as well, as the clothes are the most comfortable. I love to wear them.

With your dad being an exceptional cricketing icon, did you ever think of taking up cricket as a career?

I can't play cricket. Well, not as well as Ajay Jadeja at least. I played a lot of cricket in school. I enjoy the game and of course, its in my blood. I am greatly inspired by my dad. But I didn't want to play club cricket. I wanted to do something where I am among the best in that profession. Today, I feel I have achieved that.

Would you like to share your wildest college experience?

(smiles) Well, my college life was very wild indeed. But being wild in the '80s was not the same as being wild in the '90s. Back in the day, having a couple of cans of beer was wild. Today, its commonplace. We used to party all night and things like that. College was great fun. There was so much independence and ‘masti’ in the air.

I was in boarding school in Winchester, England. I remember that there was a good-looking, burly Italian guy in my school. It was my first night in school and he came up to me saying that I am very sweet and chikna and that he wants to sleep with me on the same bed. I was 11 at the time and started to cry. Then I realised that it was a prank. That was funny. Well not at the time, but today when I look back it, I crack up.

The past few months, there have been many rumors about your personal life….

All I really want to do is clear the rumours regarding me and Amrita. Yes, it’s true that we aren’t staying together. But there’s no bitterness or anguish over it. There have been differences which, we both decided, were best sorted out by parting ways amicably. But wherever I am and whoever I am with, my priority will be my work, my kids and Amrita. I will never let any harm fall on them. I would rather not talk too much about any other aspect of my personal life, especially Roza.

A few weeks back there was this news that you no longer want to be part of multi-starrers or even two-hero projects. Is that true?
That's all rubbish. I know I don't sell solo, so why would I be averse to acting in multi-starcast films? I am perfectly alright with it. No doubt, you sometimes feel insecure in a two-hero film when the other hero has better lines than you, but then you can't help that.

And on that note, I bid Saif goodbye as he went on to catch some sleep at his hotel and geared up for a thunderous performance at the Nassau Colisseum that night. But, I have to admit, that if you’re ever stuck in New York City traffic from Queens to Manhattan, nothing beats the hysterical company of Saif Ali Khan.

Comfortable Silence

Interesting, na? Something that came up in a conversation between me and my "acquired taste". The higher end objective of any relationship. When you don't feel obligated to make small talk all the time. Comfortable Silence is essential - not only is it a turning point, but its a rare stage that very few couples achieve. Not to be confused with Awkward Silence or "I-Couldn't-Give-A-F***" Silence, CS is an absolution that many will disregard as commonplace - but little do they know, that its another fascinating other-worldly-experience altogether.

In other news, Dubya is retarded.

According to a documentary on Discovery Health, the best place to meet women (read: pick up women) is .. hold your breath - not a bar or a club - but at a supermarket. Apparently, because of certain "hormones" that are at work while a woman is "shopping" at a supermarket for necessities, are the ones that make her more open to "choice" and "selection".

The chances of a woman picking up "someone" who may not really look like a "greek god" are much brighter at a supermarket.

Shop-Rite anyone?

I had forgotten about The Verve, after Bittersweet Symphony - but there's this track of theirs that I heard recently which I haven't been able to get out of my head. Brilliantly composed, standard white-rock guitar notations - but its all in the feel.

Check it out - Lucky Man (The Verve) from the OST of The Girl Next Door.

Inside Man. Spike Lee's joint is smokin!

My favorite dialogue:

The Sardar Guy: I can't even get across an airport line without being 'randomly' searched.

Denzel: But I bet you can get a taxi quicker than I can ;-)

LOL!

hai liye hathyaar dushman
taak mein baitha udhar
aur hum taiyaar hai
seena liye apna idhar
khoon se khelenge holi
gar watan mushkil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna
ab hamare dil mein hai

haath jinme mein ho junoon
katt te nahi talwaar se
sar jo uth jaate hai woh
jhukte nahi lalkaar se
haath jinme mein ho junoon
kat te nahi talwaar se
Aur bhadke ga
jo shola-sa hamare dil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna
ab hamare dil mein hai

hum to ghar se nikale hi the
baandh kar sar pe kafan
Jaan hatheli pe liye
lo bad chale hai yeh kadam
Jindagi to apni mehmaan
maut ki mehfil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna
ab hamare dil mein hai
Dil mein toofanon ki doli
aur nason mein inquilab
hosh dushman ke udadenge
hamein roko na aaj
dur rehpaaye jo humse
dum kahan manzil mein hai
sarfaroshi ki tamanna
ab hamare dil mein hai

sarfaroshi ki tamanna
ab hamare dil mein hai

Immigration Laws. Changes to immigration laws being discussed in senate. Yeah right! I'll believe it when I see it.

Till then - its just a vicious game of "Alien vs. Senator" ;-)

Have a fun weekend, peeps.

"Oral with rubber? What are you .. vegetarian?"

I'm sorry ... but that was just too funny to resist! Reminds me of Aladdin in American Desi asking people for "rubber". I laugh now, but that's what I used to do back in 8th grade as well.

What to do ... When in Rome, Do the Romans.

With the Lord of the Rings musical, with music by A R "born a day before me" Rahman, opening in Toronto this week, the legend is back in the news.

And guess what else? If you watch the latest Owen-Foster-Washington thriller, Inside Man, directed by Spike Lee, the opening credits featuring a montage of New York City, feature the track "Chaiyya Chaiyya" from Dil Se. No, not as way-back-in-the-background music as some tape playing in a taxicab - its in the SCORE. And the Punjabi MC remixed version plays with the ending credits. Isn't that cool? I mean, this is way past "Hindi Sad Diamonds" in Moulin Rouge - this is the entire track. And in true Hollywood style, the song is incorporated in the background score CD.

And with every movie featuring a South Asian actor or character, and now, music, is it long before Indians break into the mainstream?

Ok. So Being Cyrus.

When I first heard of this flick, I really assumed it was a Being John Malkovich-type flick. Well, I was wrong about the premise, but Cyrus does adopt a lot of the darkness and surrealistic approach from Malkovich.

The movie falters towards its close, after building a severe amount of mystic hype - and a certain degree of skepticism as to whether the end will justify the means. Saif Ali Khan does a stellar job as the enigmatic Cyrus Mistry.

The movie highlights the characteristic strangeness of the inter-breeding Parsi community, and the director accurately captures almost all of their idiosyncracies. But, when it comes to the crux of resolution towards the end, this dikra has a significant downfall.

Another hour-and-a-half songless flick that captures your attention and makes you want to turn to Bollywood and go "more like this, please". What pleases me about movies like Cyrus is how far they deviate from the stereotype. This is definitely a hallmark of the new breed of Indian Cinema, which will define the next 100 years. A few slaps on the side in the story and screenplay department, and this train will be chugging back on track.

"You try not to (think of the negatives). I think that's what all golfers do, we rationalise everything. You hit a bad shot, it's not that bad. You should always try and look at the glass as half full. There's always a bright side to everything, you've just got to find it sometimes." - Tiger Woods after dismal putting at the Players, yesterday.

And therein lies the issue. Finding it. Identifying it. And most importantly, it being enough. It never usually is. And this is not just pessimism. Its pretty realistic.

I would write more. But I'm still recovering.

'pardonne! pardonne! pardonne! you are peeing on my shoe' - Bernaise from Mel Brooks' History of the World - if you haven't seen it, rent it now!

A thousand apologies to everyone who reads my blog (yes, all two of them) for not having posted in a while - as I am engaged in a reminiscent and hedonistic jounrey (note: alcohol causes typos, because it contains the homoprotein, typose. it also kills my non-existant humor cells) as part of the 10th Anniversary of PM weekend. I would love to give you more details on our escapades, but I'm sworn to cult secrecy on this.

But its great to be back on campus, and catch up with old friends! Bringing back killer memories of Philadelphia. Breakfast at the Food Trucks, before rushing to the classes I actually attended (yes, all two of them). Steiny-D. Pottruck. The Quad. Locust Walk .. and of course, the mecca of musical stages - Irvine Auditorium. Will post pictures soon (the censored ones, that is). Until then.... adios ... and a dum-ba-dum-ba-dum to you too ;-)

Deep Pockets

What would you say about a movie that was made on a production budget of $25,000, and ended up grossing over $600 million? You'd say its pretty darn suckcessful, innit?

Well, that typo was intentional. The movie I'm talking about is Deep Throat, Gerald Damiano's directorial sleazefest that ushered in the sexual awakening of the 70s, and brought Linda Lovelace into instant stardom. Although the movie has the strangest premise, faced miserable controversy, skyrocketed a country-wide furor over Obscenity laws, was funded largely by the mob - but developed the grounding for what forms one of the most successful LIMO businesses (a management term for Less-In-More-Out) in the world - grossing over $57 billion worldwide - for what is essentially an underpaid, low production cost, initial investment - gold mine or not?

These thoughts are courtesy of the new exposive documentary, Inside Deep Throat, outlining the sexual revolution of the 70s leading into the volcanic burgeoning of the adult industry - all owed to this one movie that broke the ice, but with catastrophic results for its cast and crew - especially Linda "Lovelace", who met a tragic end in 2002 - while the San Fernando Valley Lords continue to thrive as the Sultans of Smut.

Thought-provoking, no?

Christopher Nolan deserves a shrine or two!

A man who could come up with a screenplay like Memento deserves god-like status. What genius!

I have also concluded as of yesterday that we are a disposable generation. The few of us who have no qualms, no scruples, no hyper-emotionalism and no preset commitments to our master plan on life - are the ones who don't end up curled up in depression. The ones that do, are terminally ill. Not just because they are hanging onto the value system of the generation prior to ours, by the thin, splitting thread of belief, but because when reality saddles up, gallops at them and bites them in the ascot, it will be too late for them to change who they are.

After that seemingly pointless diatribe - just 'cuz your life has no imperfections in it, doesn't make it perfect. just cuz your life has no perfection in it, doesn't make it imperfect. Its unnecessary for there to be drama in your life, because when there isn't it feels like its in abeyance of some kind, and once injected, drama stays in your lifestream for a significant span of time before wearing off.

Everything is temporary. Everything is disposable. When life itself is so unpredictable, why do we bother so much with a an un-quantifiable entity like commitment?

As I feel I said is most succinctly in "Khayaal?",

Zindagi bhar woh saath nibhaane ke khwaab kyun dekhte hain ?
Jab yeh zindagi humaari, khud, hamaara saath nibhaa nahin sakti ...

The Government takes your money...

Processing takes your time ....

Your boss takes your enthusiasm ....

Citizen White Boys take your fiancee ....

Green Card takes your hopes...

Wait times take your patience....

Marlboro Man takes your lungs....

Life...

Life takes Visa ... the H1 visa ...

(brought to you in part by the Immigration and Naturalization Services, a.k.a. Satan's Mischievous , Red-Sword-Yielding Dwarfs)

(Major Creative Input: Zeenat Rasheed)

Its drastically evident that age has caught up with Al Pacino, but that doesn't mar his complete dissolution into his role. Watching him in "Two for the Money" (pathetic script, btw) was a revelation. Can't imagine this was the same guy who played the ambitious Cuban immigrant in Scarface. His portrayal of one of the most naggingly complex roles of his career (aside from Insider which was inspiring as well) was legendary - its totally worth watching this suffering-from-loss-of-screenplay movie just to be in awe of the histrionics of Pacino.

No, No, Not Greenpeace. More like St. Patrick's Day, where everyone parties their paddy off. Had more than my share of $3.5 Irish beer and sheesha for a lifetime.

Allow me to soberize

Before I forget, comments of the night:

Nick: "With boxers, I'm just flipping and flopping, my boys need a home!"

Nita: Doesn't the Empire State Building seem kinda phallic, this time of the night?

Nick (again - on a f***ing roll): Lady Liberty looks like she could give some phenomenal head (yes, the HQ of the group at this point is pretty high - horniness quotient).

Vish: What time's the 5-o-clock bus leave?

Becky: Lets not start sucking each other's d***s, just yet (no, she's not like that. just quoting the Wolf from Pulp Fiction - or so the official story goes).

Becky: If I do throw up on you tonight, just know that I still love you, ok?

Good times, people, good times.

"You know what I didn't get about Shah Rukh in KKHH - the skin tight pants and the fagbag!" - Erika ....

It took me a while to figure out what a fagbag was, until I realized that she was talking about a 'fanny pack' (which sounds so much better, doesn't it? so much more masculine).

Ah, Erika. Tu es tres hilarious!

Insaaniyat... Kahaan?

(Spoken through the voice of a helpless old man, at the hands of sword-wielding religious terrorists, who question his 'mazhab')

Agar hindu ho tum, to musalmaan samajh kar, maar daalo mujhe
Agar muslim ho tum, to hindu samajh kar, maar daalo mujhe,
Agar khoon karne se tumhaari pyaas mit ti hai, to maar daalo mujhe,
Agar tumhaara imaan ise insaaf kehlaata hai, to maar daalo mujhe,

Kabhi, apne wajood par ghuroor tha mujhe,
Kabhi, is insaaniyaat ka karta tha mein sammaan,
Abhi, ek tarah se dekho to mit chuka hoon main,
Ab insaaniyat hi nahin rahi, le lo tum meri jaan,

Kyun khade ho tum aise, uththaao apni talwaar,
Is andhe qaatil ko kardo, mere seene ke paar,
Banaado mujhe is jung-e-mazhab ka shikaar,
Isme tumhaari hi jeet hai, aur isme tumhaari hai haar.

Meri duniya ab tumhaari hui,
Mere anth se gale milaa rahe ho mujhe,
Mera mazhab hi mera gunaah ban gayi hai,
Aur maut hi bacha sakti hai mujhe

Yeh masoom bachchon ki cheekhein, nahin sun sakte hai yeh boodhe kaan,
Yeh vehshat nahin bardaash hoti, le lo tum meri jaan,

Mere dost, is gunehgaar par kar do yeh ehsaan,
Is zindagi ki qaid se azaad karo, le lo tum meri jaan,

Par khuda ke liye, ya bhagwaan ke liye,
yeh baat kabhi na bhoolna tum,

Aaj ke din, tumne jiski li hai jaan,

Woh na Gita padta tha, na padta tha Quraan,

Woh na hindu tha, na tha woh musalmaan,

Woh bilqul tumhaari tarah, tha …. ek insaan

- Vishal

America. A land where you saw your dreams and opportunities come true. The land you came to after leaving it “all” behind. And today, as you stand in awe and admiration of the magnificent Statue of Liberty, amongst a crowd of New Yorkers on their way to work, what do you hear? You hear this. “Did you hear that Abhishek and Rani are carrying on? Oh my god, yaar!”. Yes, it’s the invasion of the “desis”, who have arrived to burst your sweet “I’m-away-from-home” bubble. Desis, desis everywhere, not a whitey in sight. Desis are like ants – we migrate in hordes. We’ve formed dominions of influence in places as spread out as South Africa, Canada, U.A.E. and of course, the “States” (a truly desi reference, as if it’s the only country with that kind of divisional policy).

And this is America, today. A melting pot of Hispanics, Asians, Africans, Europeans and “desis” (or in a more politically correct classification – South Asians). An inter-continental smorgasbord, if you will. A land where white people are soon diminishing into a minority. Most Americans, however, have a very ambiguous outlook towards Indians and India. They think that we can do only one of two jobs in America –manage convenience stores or code software. And contrary to belief, most Americans still think that back home, Indians are snake-charmers, goat-herders or inept call center representatives. Although the awareness is building, it still needs to be purported on a vast scale. And movies like Bride and Prejudice aren’t helping as they still show Indians as a bunch of over-zealous, elephant-followers. Yes, I agree we have a wonderful culture and oodles of tradition – but we also have a metropolitan side to India that needs to be portrayed to the world through popular film. Bollywood, are you listening?

Whoop that Trick!

Until I saw Meet the Fockers, I thought that the terms "number 1" and "number 2" were Indian-isms. Or maybe, something the British left back for us. It was funny to see Robert DeNiro use it. It gave that crap some class.

"Walk Out Like Somebody Born into Color" - Rumi

Kya hota hai pyaar aakhir ?
Ya chaahat ? Ya dillagi ?
Ek paththar bhare raste ke mod hai ye,
Jise kehte hain zindagi - Vishal

No, not comparing myself to the genius of Jalal-uddin Rumi. Just trying to outline by contrast, a distinct non-positive current in my writing. I say non-positive, because its not exactly pure negative. Its around the same precinct, but a few blocks away. On the slightly sunnier side of town, but with clouds looming over, threatening to rain.

I guess that's just how life is, innit?

"Relationships should be symbiotic, not parasitic". So well said by one of the few people I know who can bring 7th standard biology into a convincing comparison in a discussion about relationships. This "acquired taste" chooses to remain pathologically anonymous - but you know who you are - thanks for the awesome conversation!

Oops! It is not Ismail Darbar singing "Tore Bina Mohe Chain"- but Ustad Rashid Khan!

Thanks for that bit of info, Mom!

"Eclectic Fusion"

So I turned DJ today and was messing with two tracks. "Tore Bina Mohe Chain" from the Background Score of Kisna - which is basically a classical rendition by Ismail Darbar, and "Right Here Right Now" from the OST of Bluffmaster.

What resulted ... of course, in extreme ghettoness of a per-minute crashing and trial version of Audacity .. was rather interesting.

Check it out here

And btw ... now I officially go by .. DJ Vishal.

We complicate things. A lot. I think its the nature of the beast. Simplification is just not a part of our inherent system. We prefer drama, albeit subconsciously. Why can't things be different?

"Swathi said what behind your back? Uh-uh, girlfriend, you got to stand up"

HAHA! Sepia Mutiny rocks! (Image and Caption Courtesy Them)

Get this - "An argument broke out between US security personnel and the management of the [five-star] Le Meridien Hotel in New Delhi on Wednesday over the accommodation of 60 sniffer dogs that are part of President George W Bush’s security entourage. The US Embassy booked 70 rooms in the hotel in the Indian capital, where Bush will travel on Thursday. However, the hotel management was surprised to find that the rooms had been reserved for dogs".

Dogs? That's mean. Meridien Management, please don't talk about the President's chief advisors in that tone! He prefers that you refer to them as his "four-legged canine confidantes", with whom he shares his most personal thoughts, and whose opinion he considers equal to his own. Based on their woofs and fancies, Dubya has made some of the most key political decisions that have shaped his policy - the war, tax hikes, pooper-scooping Katrina, Social Security - which have made him the wonderfully loved, approval-laden President that he is today. In fact, you remember that scene in Fahrenheit, where Bush is informed about 9/11, and he sits quiet for nearly 15 minutes before leaving for D.C. - its only obvious what was going through his head. "Gosh, what would Rufus do?".

In other news, thanks for sharing your opinions on pro-choice and abortions, Dr. Parita Sahani ;-) Very profound info from a very insightful person :-)

Much Respect! MUCH respect!

For Terence Howard. From the Memphis accent, to his portrayal of a broke pimp trying to make it big in hip/hop - his performance in Hustle & Flow is off the hook! Highly highly recommended movie! I love the way the songs build up - esp. Hard out here and Whoop that Trick. Caught this flick again on Demand yesterday, just for that trademark elevation. But its not the kind that 8-mile gives you. H'n'F is a little bittersweet. So many variables.

All in all - recommended viewing. Makes you really think about whether you're wasting your life doing something that you think you should be doing - or whether you're in it for the ride?

As Notorious B.I.G. put it - "Either you're slinging crack rock, or you've got a wicked jump shot!". However you do it, you gotta make it up to the top, right nigga (oops! don't shoot!)

Peace out, world!

(CNN) -- South Dakota Gov. Mike Rounds signed a bill Monday that bans nearly all abortions in the state, legislation in direct conflict with the Supreme Court that legalized abortion in 1973.

"In the history of the world, the true test of a civilization is how well people treat the most vulnerable and most helpless in their society," said a statement.

I just don't get society. Really. The flip-flop nature of our judgements and the necessity for approval lead us to do some strange things. On one hand, you have people still trying to figure out whether fetuses are capable of classification as members of society - because one interpretation of the Bible defines social existence from the point of birth, and not conception. If not, then abortion would be as bad as tossing out a bad egg. As the superior race, we have no issues questioning the fact that live, grown animals are still being hunted for game, but make it a big deal discussing the doing-away-with of unborn human fetuses. Terrorism and related devastation leads you to believe that all that remains at the end - is faded memories. There is no concept of retributive justice. Waging a war on a nation does not avenge a massacre of innocents. And while society is all wrapped up in dealing with issues that puppetmasters cast before them like biased dice, the supremos themselves are busy in modifying the destiny of the world to their political convenience. What fate hath wrought?

And if Himesh Reshammiya wins one more award for Best Singer, I swear I will shoot a helpless fellow hunter!

"If the tragedy of one Heer could make you cry, what would have happened if you were alive in 1947 when a million Heers were raped in the same land"- Amrita Pritam on Warris Shah

We reside in an era where religion is masked as a motivation behind heinous acts of mass destruction, it becomes essential for us to redefine the word itself. Religion - Untitled in its purest form. By giving it a name, you are not enhancing it, or personifying it. You are only insulting its characteristic chastity. Demoralizing its identity. I call it 'a nameless tribute to our source of existence'. Because in its anonymity, lies its essence. If we are destined to learn of it in entirety, someday, we will....... Let fate be the page turner for the book of circumstance. She does it best. How do I know that fate is feminine, you ask? Because she takes hours (ages) to make herself look presentable, but only a second to change her mind (course)".

Peace out, world.

I was SPOT ON about the Best Actor, Best Actress and Best Director Award. But like most of the rest of the world - I crashed on Crash! Yes, it was rather unexpected. I loved the movie - but was it deserving of knocking over BM and Syriana (in that order - because I felt Syriana was the only movie truly deserving of upsetting BM)!

I really need to re-watch Crash now - because I never viewed it from an Oscar perspective. Was it better than Syriana? The films had a lot in common. While Crash reviewed immigrant experiences and their intrinsic discomfitures, Syriana was more petro-political but still had the same Soderbergh-style parallel yet interwoven plotlines, like Crash. But I felt Syriana had more of a pertinent and global message, and much more fiber vis-a-vis Crash - this is purely comparative because both films are phenomenal in their own respect. Syriana was more impactful, while Crash was more introspective.

But heck, to each his own. In between Jon Stewart's hilarious hosting histronics, Ang Lee on stage was saying "I have this to say to my wife..." and Didi completed his statement - "I'm gay, honey". That would make sense, wouldn't it? So if Ang Lee's gay - his wife is going to be quite AkeLee, no?

Peace Out, World!

Excuses: Mother is the necessity of their invention ;-) Sorry, mom. I just thought that it was the coolest word play i've heard in a while, at a party last night. Something I discovered about New York City apartments, today. The smaller they are, the more happening the parties. Friend of mine signed up a one-bedroom in Soho where she lives alone (read: yes, she's stinking rich), and threw the most ridiculous house-steaming party. Her priority in the hunt - location, location, location! Also, as part of my theory- New Yorkers get drunk far slower than New Jerseyites. You can also tell them apart really well, as part of my analysis. NJ-ites stare at the clock/watch more, drink faster, take longer to settle into a party, aren't as loud and overbearing, describe their location in Jersey in terms of distance from 'the city' and pack up sooner because they need to drive/commute home. Also, NJ-ites don't get much action. Because the pick-up line, "Your place or mine?" is usually followed by a trip to Penn Station or Port Authority, which is an immediate turn-off, and if you drive, chances are bright that the girl falls asleep in her drunken stupor before you hit the Turnpike.

Something about the NYC subway keeps you awake and seeking. Isn't it just the best? Especially on Saturday nights, you always the 'stink cabin' phenomenon - the inevitable cabin on the 1 or 9 where someone has thrown up because he/she mixed straight JDs with Apple Martinis. The inevitable Jesuit converter, usually Black and well dressed even at 4 AM, reading out passages from the Jehovah's Witness' Guide to Screwing With People's Minds. Notice that its only when you're drunk that you actually end up listening to these guys and saying stuff like "Right on!". Also, there's the inevitable wannabe musician selling CDs, the old-black-man a capella groups (some of whom are really good) and of course, those kids selling M&Ms for their so-called Basketball team, who shadily talk on Razrs and drive Miatas to "work" - woo hoo, talk about charity.

Ah but its New York. The New Yorker has a big red sign now, so you know big and bright where the shittiest rooms in the city are at. Gotta love the city that never sleeps. As Carrie says it best, "Despite the fact that there are over eight million people on the island of Manhattan, there are times you still feel shipwrecked and alone. Times even the most resourceful survivor would feel the need to put a message in a bottle, or on an answering machine".

why have kids ..... watch out world ... i am about to RANT!

we have kids ... we deal with their every concern ... clean their butts ... feed them ... soothe em .... teach em .... then they grow up .... meet friends .... friends are the cause that they are embarassed of us .... they get embarassed of who they are .... divorce their culture .... try to be white ... black ... hispanic. .... grow up confused .... hate us even more for putting them in that situation ... think we smell ... think we talk wierldy ... start cracking fob jokes at us ... and knock us in the Shady Pines Old People's Home one day leaving us thinking ... man, i cleaned his butt to see this day?

(spl. thanks to T for her inspiration)

Quoting an Associated Press article:

After the suicide bomb killed a US envoy in Pakistan, Bush, in neighboring India, quickly vowed to stick with his plan to fly to Pakistan's capital, Islamabad, on Friday."Terrorists and killers are not going to prevent me from going to Pakistan," Bush told reporters.

Right on, Dubya - but they sure as hell can prevent you from coming back!

Conversation overheard on NJ Transit bus, heading to Port Authority. While Bharadwaj dreams up his mutual fund dreams, he attempts getting away with this conversation with a co-passenger:

Co-passenger: To aap kaam kahaan karte hain? New York mein?

B'waj: Nahin, Manhattan mein

Co-passenger: Achcha! Mujhe to lagta tha ki aap New York mein kaam karte hain. Aap karte kya hain?

B'waj: Mera murgiyon ka mutual fund hai. Naam suna ho gaa. Henpecked Consulting. Yahaan nahin! Sab kuch bahaar jaata hai .. sab bahaar.

Co-passenger: Achcha? humaare ande ka business hai. Eggjackly Brothers. Actually, Henpecked Consulting? Naam kuch familiar sa hai. Pichle saal aapki murgiyon ne thode kam ande diye the ... kuch udhaar baaqi hai lagta hai.

B'waj (upset): Dekhoonga dekhoonga. Farm jaake accounts dekhoonga.



Song in background (SPB trying to sound Northy): "Do andewaale chale zindagi banaane, murgi sambhaalne aur omelet pakaane, OMELEEETTT PAKAANE "

Many have requested me to continue my series of AAA spoofs. I am alarmed that others share this ridiculous inanity with me - and how much time they have on their hands as well.

This time I've decided to add a smidgen of Gulzar's Angoor as well ... here goes... btw... my friend's name is Bharadwaj!

Start: B'waj's second interview at "Bahadur" Outsourcing (Deven Varma starting his own supari oursourcing firm, against Sanjeev Kumar's constant oppression)

Bahadur: Aao Bharadwaj aao. Bhaang piyoge?
B'waj: Kyun nahin? kyun nahin? ... KYA???
Bahadur: Kuch nahin. Tum IS AADMI ko jaante ho?
B'waj: uiii maaa, yeh to Thaakur hai.
Bahadur: Ramesh Sippy ke liye yeh Thaakur hoga ... lekin mere liye ... yeh mera jaani dushman hai ...

Bahadur: Inki khushi ki khaatir maine kya kya din dekhe. Prema ko Ekta Kapoor ke serials ka chakma deke, Ashok Babu ne use Bombay bhaga diya . Suna hai ke Zee TV ke kuch serials mein YUUN khadi dikhaai deti hai. Aur to aur - mera eklota grey kurta-white pajama ka set chori kar ke gayee. Ashok Babu jab jab khush hue hain ... main barbaad hua hoon ....
(B'waj offers tissue)
Bahadur: Lekin ab bahut ho gaya. Inki maut mein hi meri khushi hai!
B'waj: par ... par .. par .... main to Investment Banking karna chahta hoon ....
Bahadur: arrey investment banking jaaye bhaad mein. yeh supaari ka dhanda
hai, supaari ka!
B'Waj: Arrey? pehle bhaang. phir supaari? yeh consulting company hai, ke
paan ki dukaan?
Bahadur: KHAMOSH! pehle mere ek gambhir savaal ka javaab do...
B'waj: poochiye?
Bahadur: tumhaare resume par thook kyun hai?
B'waj: Oiii maa. Ek hi copy thi mere paas.

My Oscar Predictions

Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote ... man, after he played the embarassing, forgotten child star who can't get rid of his star complex in Along Came Polly, I thought this guy was the bomb. But in Capote, from the little that I've seen, I really feel he deserves an Oscar.

Reese Witherspoon should pull off Best Actress (and I agree with Ebert that Dame Judi Dench shouldn't pull this one), and I will officially turn gay (finally!) .... if Brokeback wins Best Picture, after all the excessive lobbying, because if it doesn't, someone will be velly ang-lee.

Khayaal

Humaare khayaalon ke azaad parinde, jo aasmaano mein udte the,

Na jaane kaise, yeh duniya ke pinjron ko bardaash karne lage hain



Manzil ki khoj na karte the hum, bas udne ki thi ummeed,

Na jaane safar mein kab se, manzil ki talaash karne lage hain



Dhoondte the zindagi ki raahon par, pyaar bhare woh pal,

Dhoondte the zindagi ki raahon par, guzre hue woh kal



Us safar ki tanhai mein, ek humsafar ki thi ummeed,

Na jaane kyun, us humsafar ki chaahat mein mitne lage hain



Ubhar aaye mere woh sapne, jo barson se dabaaye hue the,

Na jaane kyun, woh khayaal mere bhi paraaye lagne lage hain



Aur woh harjai, jo beechch raste mein, haath chod gaya tha

Na jaane kyun, hum usi humsafar ka saath chaahte hain

Zindagi bhar woh saath nibhaane ke khwaab kyun dekhte hain ?

Jab yeh zindagi humaari, khud hamaara saath nibhaa nahin sakti ...


aadaab arz hai .......
vishal

Another Prick in the Wash

Yesterday I applied the theory of differential managerial economics to my 8 laundry loads. I am officially disgusted with myself on various levels.

Anywho, here's a rough sample of a basic script I came up with for a friend of mine who plans to work in the absolutely unique, untapped and non-competitive world of hedge fund consulting (please don't let the sarcasm go unnoticed). Credit to monsieur RK Santoshi for most of the original conceptualization.

In the office of WAH! WAH! Consulting

Mehmood-Like Interviewer: Wah! Kya resume hai! Thoo thoo thoo thoo
Friend: Sir, aap mere resume par kyon thook rahe hain!
Mehmood-Like Interviewer: Thook nahin! Nazar utar raha hoon. Taaki kisi aur consulting company ki ispe "nazar" naa lage.
Friend: abhi to main aa gaya hoon .. guru .. kardo na Wah Wah Consulting shuru!
Mehmood-Like Interviewer: Shuru Ho Gayee! Bajaj se baat bhi ho gayee. yeh lo. bajaj aa gaya.
Timepiece Bajaj: Nonsense! Tum log waqt se pehle kaise aa gaye? Har cheez time-to-time honi chahiye. Start.
Friend: Err. I have a lot of experience in ....
Timepiece Bajaj: Stop! Nonsense! Yeh resume par thook kyun hai?
Twin Bajaj Enters: MILGAYA! INVESTOR MILGAYA! Ab hum izzat se yeh consulting
company kholenge... hum log .. ek murgiyon ka mutual fund kholenge ...
Timepiece Bajaj: Nonsense!

Mehmood-like Interviewer: Dekho beta. Inki baaton mein mat aao. Tum ek aur intern ko apne consulting dreams ke jaal mein phasao .. jaise maine tumhe phasaaya hai ... (Friend raises eyebrows) ... banaaya hai ...

(Dream bubble emerges where Friend pictures himself selling the Murgiyon ka Mutual Fund idea to another friend)

Any takers?

The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

Something to think about, isn't it? Not just an ominous or profound thought to start me off today, but its true. Civilization may soon become the cause to upgrade us back to the stone age, because one part of me really feels that we are pushing things. Beyond the wondrous good that technology is doing for us, I sometimes feel like equating modern science to that little cartoon experimentalist who keeps mixing chemicals till they blow up in his face to leave a charred, hair-burnt and frazzled person, with a quizzical look in his eyes. Perhaps its because the world's supposedly most modern country has a leader who tells the country what it already knows in the most surprised, kiddish way possible - "Look what i discovered, America! Turns out we're dependent on oil!" - while his replacement filler is out accidentally shooting people.

(sigh) ... when will we ever learn? as Ghalib put it best ... "bazeecha-e-atfal hai duniya mere aage, hota hai shab-o-roz tamasha mere aage" ... i'd try and translate that, but I would never be able to convey it the way MG intended to.

Do check out my attempt at bringing the diverse worlds of dark ambient and Urdu ghazals together here.

Peace out, world.

Sometimes the simplest things in this world become the most complicated. Sometimes we fail to see what's under our very nose, and what's been there for so long ... gone unnoticed. Sometimes the things closest to you are not necessarily the most precious, and the things farthest from you are not necessarily the most insignificant .... and although its not in my nature to be mysterious ;-) .... i just feel like messing with you all ... :-)

Ryot of Color. Not just a play of words, but a resolved identity crisis. That's me. Connected with my roots and my simplistic heritage and identity. Beneath all the makebelieve, all the determination, all the want-to-bes and want-to-haves ... its time to connect with who I really am .... someone with simple needs but complicated derivatives .... with simple satisfactions but complex desires ... with simple passions but multi-dimensional ambitions .... truth is ... im truly a blot on the lifelong questmap ... a pawn in the never-ending, commercial-filled reality show of destiny ... im a ryot .... a ryot of color ....

its really difficult to explain where i'm coming from .... i do find a writer's block in trying to explain this thought .... it may sound like an absinthe-induced haze to most (and perhaps it is ... shhh) ... but its true ... its how i feel ... and i really can't deny it ...

Warning: Contains Rang De Basanti spoilers!

"SMS Generation - chaar line se zyaada koi bhi conversation, lecture lagne lagti hai". One of the many lines from Rang De Basanti which linger on, days after the movie. More than a diatribe on the lackadaisical approach of this very SMS generation, RDB comes across strongly as a piece of meaningful, target-oriented and impactful Hindi cinema. Eye caressing cinematography by Binod Pradhan, in one of his few non-Vidhu Chopra flicks - I particularly liked the bike sequence-lighting techniques and the aerial shots and of course, the sepia tinged flashback sequences.

Ok, coming to the movie - highly awaited Aamir "Pheonix" Khan flick - but that's the difference here. Its not a whole and soul Aamir Khan movie. No doubt, Aamir pulls off another living role, comfortably fitting into the jeans of a Delhi collegekid - the scene where he breaks down, sheer brilliance. When Aamir's on screen, especially in a Hindi movie, it really feels like that one soloist singing his heart out, deeply involved in the music, in a group of cacophonics. RDB's different with several performances coming out gangbusters - Soha Ali Khan, Kunal Kapoor, Atul Kulkarni, Sharman Joshi, Kirron Kher and the new kid, Siddharth.

Brilliant premise. Handling of the switch-element between pre-partition and today - mindblowing. RDB has dozens of USPs. Where does it fall short? Length - second half was unnecessarily stretched. And most importantly - believability. Yes, India is corrupt - but a group of college kids killing the Defence Minister, and then locking themselves up in the AIR building, only to be subsequently shot dead, doesn't seem to be a likely solution, nor a possible occurence. RDB had all the makings of a gripping, soul-touching classic - if only, the "Awakening of a Generation" could have been made a little more believable.

But it was great to see a MEANINGFUL movie. key stress on that word, because of the string of Neels and Nikkis that we have been subjected to, the past few months. Also, the combination of intricate and top notch dialogues, music, cinematography and performances. With a few touch-ups necessary in the screenplay and story department (the same that Rakeysh Mehra's previous movie, Aks needed as well), RDB meets, matches and, in many aspects, supercedes expectations, with a soundtrack and dialogues that remain in your zehen for a while. Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ........!

Statement of the Day!

On a discussion of whether Brokeback Mountain is a theatre movie or a DVD movie, Didi goes ... "but I want to see it on big screen, so you can see big gay love.... not chotu gay love"

Hilarious!!!

So I was recently told that Manish Malhotra was rather pissed off that I referred to him as "Pretty in Pink" in print, and mildly insinuated that him and Karan Johar might have been gay. Have you heard of anything more ridiculous? Jeez, it wasn't even an insinuation. All I said was that Karan and Manish were spotted having coffee in New York, at a cafe that was rumored to have once been called "Gaylords". That's a pun more than anything!

And if he's still trying to be in the closet about things - he's not really doing it too well, is he? Sad that they silently listen to all that Stardust and Cine Blitz have to say - which is far more direct and controversy-worthy than my mild rants - and then they choose to pick on things like this to vent their anger on. Is this a homosexual thing or a homosapien thing?

Still Looking!

"Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World". By far, one of the WORST scripted shams I have seen in recent time. Leads me to think - what the hell were they thinking? Especially Albert Brooks. The film should have been conclusively titled "The Futile Search for Comedy in the Muslim World", because evidently Albert was looking the wrong places. Except for a couple of dated jokes on Indian call centers, and a few pointless puns, the movie falls flat on its face. Sheetal Sheth delivers a convincing performance - decent concept, devastatingly executed, the film starts, proceeds and most of all, ends shabbily. Repetitively annoying dialogues and a tacky screenplay - the true comedy of this film is in the sheer misguided execution of this project. Clearly, these people have NOT done their research and continue to portray a bare, stark view of India - to further feed and engorge the pre-existing misconceptions of the Western world. One word - Pathetic!! Ughh!

More power to conspiracy theories :-)

http://www.pentagonstrike.co.uk/flash.htm#Main

Big B on Broadway

Although evolution has preached ‘survival of the fittest’, in today’s celebrity world, it is clearly ‘survival of the biggest’. And although that does mysteriously sound like the opening to a Viagra commercial, I’m merely talking about the biggest and most spectacular Bollywood super-icon, the Big B himself and his recent, brief press appearance in the Big Apple.

More than the man, it’s the aura today. This is the most apt way in which one can sum up the legendary Amitabh Bachchan. In town for the US television launch of the popular game show, Kaun Banega Crorepati 2, he arrived punctually and barely spoke more than a few words but left the press sheerly stupefied by his presence. He smiled as he gave soundbytes of “Kaun Banega Crorepati … Dwithiya” and did the much-imitated finger twitch that goes with it, with an ostensible comprehension that he is one of the few stars who can make shuddh Hindi sound so cool. KBC2 airs on Star Plus which reaches out to hundreds of thousands of Indian households across the country through the DirecTV network.

Moreover, as hordes of commuters drive from the suburbs of New Jersey to the bustle of New York City to work in the morning, they have another surprise awaiting them. In a publicity spot that was once adorned by the likes of Donald Trump and Coco Chanel, a large outdoor billboard placed strategically at the gateway to Manhattan, the historic Lincoln Tunnel, one sees the magnanimous image of the Big B cheekily pointing out to the crowd, with the tagline “Are you ready for India’s biggest show?”. Although the Americans look at it quizzically as the graphics are replicas of Regis Philbin and Who Wants to be a Millionaire, this is the first time that an Indian celebrity has attained this manic maqaam of mainstream publicity. Outdoor ads of Star Plus and KBC2 are now seen at train and bus stations, and community shopping areas across the tri-state area, which is home to nearly 600,000 South Asians.

Talking of big, the man with the largest Gross National Ego, King Khan pulled up to the Nirvana restaurant in Los Angeles’ cream district of Beverly Hills, a few weeks ago, in a sleek white Bentley Arnage, to hobnob with the who’s-who of Hollywood. He was in town to promote (read:lobby) for Paheli, India’s official entry for best foreign film at the 2006 Oscars, which sadly Black-ed out Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s hopes of running the Academy circuit this year. Although the film tanked at the Indian box office, Paheli held strong collections in the US circuit and Shah Rukh was quoted to be surprised that Hollywood celebs found the film to be rather entertaining.

And if that wasn’t enough to stir up India’s annual (albeit:sinusoidal) Oscar frenzy, US distributors of the Mahesh Dattani flick, Morning Raaga, submitted the movie for (hold your breath) the Best Picture category at the Oscars. Submitted out of pique that the film wasn’t India’s entry for Best Foreign Film, the critically-acclaimed Shabana Azmi-Perizaad Zorabian starrer was submitted for the mainstream Oscars on the basis of its US release, and has been cleared of all the basic selection criteria. Being the first Indian film to be submitted and accepted in the mainstream category, the crew awaits the nomination announcements, slated for January 31^st, with bated breath. For Morning Raga, isn’t that something to sing about?

With over 1000 films a year, and slated to be the largest film production industry in the world, does India really need to run the American Oscar circuit with such overzealousness. Although the chances of a nomination are rather nominal, as India has historically only had 2 runners for Best Foreign Film in the entire century of Academy history, Shah Rukh Khan continues his endeavors to promote Paheli, as he has traditionally been one celeb who aims to have his cake and the bakery, as well. Dugna Lagaan, kya?

So that last piece was pasted across the desi-internet, thanks to Manan and Tushar and a bunch of other Indo-fluenced listservs. More than the hatemail from the miffed Sikh community (aakhir kyun paaji kyun?), I got dozens of mails of appreciation for putting this simple thought across, in a lucid fashion. So after that long hiatus - I'm back. and I'm here to stay.

And hey, a majority of the credit for this return, goes to my buddy, Tamanna, whom I had the venerable honor of chatting with till 5:30 AM last night, for topics as varied as facial resemblances to celebrities, to sex on the Burj Helipad. Quite a night, Tamanna, thanks a million - was awesome to get to know you too .... (if you've read her blog entry of today - isn't that shweet, like two happy cats scratching each other's backs - heck, at least I don't give her a $300 bill ;-) jk!). Love n peace!

Confessions of an American Desi

I curl my Rs and roll my Ls, depending on whom I wish to impress or flatter. My accent changes as I switch calls between my paternal grandparents and my boss. Ever since I convinced immigration authorities that I don’t intend to reside here, and walked through their portals for the first time on my seemingly-solitary quest for the cherished GC, I choose what to like and dislike about my home country, as I am not obliged to deal with it anymore. To a curious-about-our-heritage American, I will be a thoroughbred son of the soil, dripping with awe-inspiring facts about our locales, our spices, our culture and our monuments. But beyond that, I will practice selective affection for my homeland. I watch ESPN to stock up on conversation pieces, and follow American politics to stay informed, with zeal far greater than my basic perception of homeland affairs. I roll my eyes when singled out at security checkpoints, probably because I wasn’t the one running away from mammoth grey clouds of smoke and dust. I come up with clever Hindi sobriquets for African-Americans and Chinese people in order to poke fun at them, oblivious to the fact that they’re probably doing the same thing.

I am the American Desi of today. Not as confused as the ones born here, as I choose to switch between like and dislike of my culture by will, not by birth. But I still shop at Indian stores, attend all-nighter parties for India-Pakistan matches and scroll through credits of mainstream American flicks to look for a Chandrashekhar or a Vaidyanathan, and smile with a glimmer of sporadic pride in my ‘people’, before I hail a cab home for my American neighbour, Greg and me. And as the heavily-bearded turbaned cabdriver asks, “Where to?”, I give him my address. I ignored his initial greetings, because I didn’t want to engage in another “Where-are-you-from-Do-you-miss-home” taxicab conversation. As far as I’m concerned, I am just another passenger. I brush off the initial pangs of guilt probably inspired by the hours and hours of moral talk that my mom dedicated to me. Am I wrong to switch identities so steadfastly? Everyone does it here. Most of the white people I know want to be black most of the time. It’s a global syndrome.

I cringe as I hear the desi cabdriver belch loudly, as if I am embarrassed on his behalf. A part of me feels like apologizing to Greg, but I choose to segregate – distance myself from the cabdriver – in every way possible. At that point, the divider between our seats is a border between my wavering ex-culture and my present, and potentially future fancy. As the cabdriver laughs loudly on his headset and curses ‘affectionately’ in one of the few languages in which that is possible, Punjabi, supposedly to another taxi cabdriver, my discomfiture grows to the point that I curtly request him to “keep it down”. The cabbie turns off his phone and apologizes profusely to me in Hindi, while I refuse to reciprocate. I ignore him and smile uncomfortably at Greg, continuing our conversation about the Republican Party as if nothing happened, hoping that he hasn’t created a mental association between the ill-mannered cabbie and me, because of our so-called “common heritage”. To me, people like the cabdriver are the reason people still think of India as a third-world nation. Him and modern-day directors who still portray the rural and rustic portions of India while ignoring the burgeoning infrastructure. Although I am personally oblivious to India’s growth in the last decade, I selfishly hope someone says something magnanimous about it so that I don’t have to hide behind a façade anymore. To me, India isn’t “cool” enough to be from, unlike Australia or Italy.

As we disembark the cab, I pay the cabbie and realize that I am a whole two dollars short. Greg is busy flirting with his girlfriend on the phone, and I find it petty and demeaning to be asking him for a petty sum. I look at the cabdriver, who seems to understand my predicament simply by my facial expressions. He smiles and in unfussy Hindi, responds “Chalega”, a word that has no clear translation in the English language. A word that tells me that we aren’t different at all. A word that creates an instant albeit fleeting unique bond between our worlds. He greets me with a smile and drives away without waiting for me to thank him. I find it strange that someone whom I have never known - someone whom I would have probably walked right past on the streets of my hometown – would do me a simple yet meaningful favor purely because we are two of over a billion people, who share a historic, meaningful past. I feel that the very identity that I have been escaping from has boomeranged at me in a karmic sort of way, to help me see things in a new light. And although I am steps away from my New York City apartment, home suddenly seems so far, far away.

Continuing my torrid love affair with the city of New York, I embarked on a photo-session of everlasting favorites (well, actually, I was showing an old high school buddy around town, and found the day to be so visually appealing, that I clicked away with reckless abandon) - Here, you'll see - a view of downtown Manhattan rising out of midtown, foggy at 18 degrees - Winter sunset glorifying Lady Liberty in a view from Battery park city - Symmetricity a la the Empire State Building - and the ESB and a street lamp from Herald Square. Holla back if you think I have potential - it might stir me to take up that photography course at NYU that I've been debating on :-)