Another GOD(darn)YEAR gone by

They say one dog year is equal to seven human years. I know It's true. After all, my 8 dogyear (56yrs) dog makes sure she gets fed in the house first like all elders should, she doesn't chase the cats anymore but justs shakes her head in annoyance at them with an otherworldy wisdom.. and as for her gorgeous looks, I guess she's selling my novel collection to pay for the botox treatment needed for her still young 35ish humanyear (5ish dogyear) looks.

Why am I mentioning it ? Because i wondered how many humanyears one blogyear translates into? Surely, it can't be less than dogyears.. dogs live longer than blogs, right? Since I've come across no statistical study / thesis, I guess I'll just go ahead and set the ball rolling..
Hear ye, hear ye.. From this day forth, a blogyear equals ( inky pinky ponky.. blah blah blah )15 human years! ( the crowd erupts in joy and celebration as the purist bloggers frown in disapproval. )

Well, guess what? Godyears turns two today.. And I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm feeling a wee bit proud. I mean, sure, It's only posts and all that, but still,161 is a lot of posts right ? Even if you take away personal life incidents, I'd like to think I've tried my hand at quite a few genres of writing in this period.. Unleashed the creative type-writing baboon within, as some would say of me. I remember wondering at the end of last year, if I'd be able to carry on writing , once work caught a hold of me, once the creative tap ran dry.

Well, a year on, work is in full flow, time is forever scanty and sleep is far and few between. But the blog has carried on. Just as the changes have crept in from the first year to the second, so too there will a change as Godyears progresses for however long it exists .. but one thing hopefully will remain - the ability to either make you laugh or think, with every post. Because that was the only aim when this blog started... ok, that and the impression that I thought there was money in this hobby !! Oh well, ye win some, ye lose some.
No new post on Godyears birthday.. Just a 'best of collection' in no particular order, which I hope you'll enjoy reading or re-reading, as the case may be.

01. Chasing August - this one I enjoyed a lot because I wanted to try something entirely different, in the form of storytelling. Writing horror doesn't come naturally to me ( which is weird since i'd make a perfect psychopath in real life, i feel, given the chance. )

02. Shaktimaan - the other end of my story telling capacity. Again, take every B grade hindi film in your mind and then 'view this film' as you read it. Personally, I'm still waiting for funds to release this film. Donations, anyone ?

03. Tetrapack Gods- a touch of controversy, a blurring of faith.. Not a lot of God.. A real God anyway. What's the point of having an opinion you believe in if you don't have the right to voice it, right ?

04. Stranger i love - this one was written at a time of yearning.. Of just wishing for love. I must say, i was pleasantly surprised by how much people enjoyed it. Danielle Steele, move over. Rads has arrived.

05. A memory of sweets - umm. The post speaks for itself. It will always be special to me for obvious reasons .

06. Dogyears - could there really be a 'godyears- best of' collection without Ruby in it ?

07. Soothsayer Prophesies - I probably worked the hardest on this one. Seeking out the info, finding different people's interpretation of the same.. hey, it was worth it. It ( along with that Darling Shammu's appeal ..she must have put a gun to the judges head ), helped me get the Blog of the Day award.

08. Tablespoon of sadness- love and what's wrong with it here, in our country.

09. Man behind the mask - it was a story I had to tell ... Before the cacophony of everyday life drowned it out of my head. Weirdly, It's one of the few doc stories in this blog!

10. For want of a moan - so typically me. This is how I think, seriously. Some find it funny. Some slowly move away from me in fear. It's really a tie between this and my karma ran over your dogma..

11. Tabloid series - A series that allowed for a lot of creativity, both in writing and photo editing. Sigh.. Sadly, time does not permit me to continue it. which is really sad, because almost everyday, I read articles which would be perfect for new tabloid issues. Sigh.. You humans.

12. Terrorists in Mangalore - My first encounter with a terrorist outfit. Reading the papers, I know it won't be my last.

13. Payangadi adventure- one long post. Just another example of how an ordinary day can be made to look eventful, if you want it to.

14. My Real Profile - This is what I am.. this is who I am.

15. The Namesake - One of those dark moments.

16. Chocolate and the Bitter Pill - It's personal.

17. To those who helped me survive - One year back, today. A lot has changed since then. Touchwood, I'm in a better place.

18. My Majestic strut - Just so people don't get the wrong impression that I don't do religious rituals.. or atleast that was how it was supposed to be when it started out.. oops !!

19. The final nail - This is my albatross .

20. Ask Uncle Rosho - What better way to end a collection than with some advice, eh mate ?

Here's looking forward to another year of fun and laughter, twists and turns, tears and friendships, old and new.. Have a great week everyone.

Silky smooth baldness...

As a kid, I used to read a lot of spy novels and watch all those damn detective serials and paranormal phenomenon serials ( Yes, the X- files was my Bible and I still bow my head in reverance thinking of Mulder and Scully) which all stressed the same point - blame it on the government. I slept uneasy night after night, the words of Ludlum and Clancy beseeching me to trust noone. Anyway, after a few "unsavoury incidents" with the postman ( or that's what he claimed to be, though I knew better ) which had to be financially hushed up, I was sent to a medical school for counselling and due to an error on the administration's part, was chosen as a student instead of a patient. Long story short, I became a doc. Anyway, with bones and drugs taking over my life, I grew up. I realised the folly of my childhood fantasies. You see, I don't think they're out to get me anymore.. I'm NOW SURE they're out to get me. No doubt about it. Nada.

And it's not just via the obvious routes too, you know. Like that damn mobile Gps system or those ATM cards which delay just a second too long before giving me my cash, as they relay my position to them 'officials. It's in the small thingies too. How do I know ? Because I seek the truth, Scully.

Below, I present one of the many conspiracy theories I've uncovered out there along with fellow aides ( strategically positioned at NIMHANS, Oolambara, Kuthiravattam, Erwadi.. God bless their souls ). The full list of our theories will be released soon in our super self help book - "How to reach the top 5 - kill everyone else."

"Conspiracy theory 67b - silky smooth baldness"

For a long time, it occured to us enlightened few that these government bodies would be trying to get into our most private arenas - the bathroom. After me and the others kept 72 hours vigil over the toilet and uncovered nothing ( other than severe stomach cramps ), it dawned on me why we had failed. We were looking for an enemy which was already there. The evil lady with those long show-offy hair locks in the shampoo bottle !!! Of course. It all started to make sense.

I mean, we've bought it, right ? What easier way to enter the house ? And those silly non-disclaimer pick up lines they threw at us ?

"Shampoo - for extra body" Ya, right. Try it and all of a sudden, with the loss of hair, it looks like you've gained a whole lot of "extra body", all right. Of course, it doesn't affect me with my lush locks, but you poor commoners.. ah! Who'm I kidding ? I'm losing hair faster than a monkey with diabetes. Hell, my dog throws sympathetic glances at my headmop. I haven't had to buy a new comb in years.. the humiliatiuon when people see the comb and say "Hey, new comb.. what ? 4 years old ? No way. It looks brand new.. lke it's never been used.. Oh.. umm..so how's everyone at home ?" The last guy who gave his variation of the above dialogue still carries my bite marks on his arm. Hopefully, word will spread. But wait !! Like all normal unsuspecting folk, you too are still a disbeliever ! I have not provided enough proof , mon ami ?

Oh ya.. then what about the "for dry and damaged hair" tag line. Ever notice they never say "For making dry and damaged hair wet and fluffy hair" ? Because, that's part of the plan.. to make your hair "dry and damaged".. Why? So it'll falllll. Why ? I haven't figured that part out yet, but I'm leaning towards the "it's hard to make us out via spy satellite with our hair on" theory. Oh yes, Will Smith was trying to warn us with "Enemy of the State ". We just didn't listen.

Of course, nowadays, they've released pro-active shampoo. You recall, no doubt, that little line at the end which says "best if used with OUR conditioner / nail polish / face wash / toilet paper / condom / any of our products dammit !!" Well, you better believe they mean it. For the truth is far more sinister than just selling their products.

Remember that innocous bit of shampoo that always manages to find it's way down your forehead ? Coincidence that all over the world, people nodded to the above line ? Nay.. it's because that's their 'pro active' shampoo.. that's their look-out boy. He scouts and sees whhether we've really been using their other products as recommended. If he sees a different conditioner or soap, well, that's it. The message is relayed back immediately. The rest of the shampoo have their orders..to self destruct right there, on your hair, taking those precious follicles with them. Made from line and tea extract ? My Ass !!!More like made from Taliban jehadi suicide camp !!

I know what you're upto, shampoo people. You can fool the rest of the world, but not me. Rosh is too smart for yer kind.

P.S. Why why why are you so curious to know what medication I'm on right now ? Eh ? Who asked you to ask me ? It was them, wasn't it ? What agency are you working for ? What does it matter to you about those extra pills I'm taking on the sly ? That's between me and Pablo, supplier of "pain go bye bye" pills. Thank you, Huan Pablo. Cuba can always depend on me when war erupts.. just get me a good cap to cover my lush locks !!!

My lucky magic 8 ball

How many of you have played with a magic 8 ball.. you know, the big black snooker ball with the space where the number should befrom wherein different answers pop out. The idea is, you ask the ball a question ( There's really no way to write that without it sounding 'weird' ) , shake the ball and the answer appears..
Back in my internship days, Vj "DonBoy" Shelly had brought a magic 8 ball into the hospital and pretty soon, everyone was engrossed in checking their luck, be it the fellow interns, the gullible nurses and even quite s few senior professors, if I recall properly ( medicine shmedicine.. Lucky 8 ball, should I start my patient on penicillin ? Not in this lifetime )

The questions would range from pure fantasy ( Will she fall in love with me ? Try again after 6 months ) to funny ( Will Argentina win the next world Cup ? You betcha ) to really emotional ones ( Will our marriage be a success ? It's hard to say ). Of course, there was always the "You didn't shake it right, do it again" response if the answers didn't favour the concerned dude / dudette. Me ? Well, as is the case with most inanimate spooky objects, this one too took an instant dislike to me, eagerly awaiting my arrival and setting me up by giving the guys before me lotsa happy answers ( Will I win the lottery ? You betcha ) before using me as it's punching bag ( Will I clear the exams ? Not a chance Ok, will I atleast get the girl of my dreams ? Not a chance .. Oh, so you're gonna be all negative on me, huh ? Well then, magic ball, the chances of me being a success in life are pretty much nil, huh ? You betcha ) Sigh... I hated that Afro- American 8 ball. I guess the feelings were mutual, huh ?

I guess it didn't affect me as much as it did others though.. I'm not gonna deride them saying " oh, silly fools, falling for the words of a silly toy. I guess hearing bad news about something you dream about can sting anyone. The number of times I've seen nurses who were crestfallen after that damn ball spelt doom for their marriages.. My ego though was iron clad and sky high. I was the king of the world. I could do no wrong in my mind and no silly ball could affect me with it's eerie predictions of impending doom.

2 years have past since I last laid eyes on that magic 8 ball. I was on my return trip back when I stepped into the airport bookstore. I was just thumbing through ( reading fervently ) some books on the display shelf when I came across a book I didn't know had been published. It was the follow up to the old Richard Bach classic "Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah" titled "The Messiah's Handbook".
In the earlier novel, the Messiah's handbook had played a vital role, granting the Messiah Shimoda with 'the keys to the universe' as the author watched on. Yet, in the end, it was a disillusioned narrator who watched his friend and messiah die a senseless death, and in anger at the Handbook's 'response' had thrown it into the fields in disgust. Now, the book had returned.

The book that had once contained words of advice for the world,but which had also cruelly betrayed him. He wondered if it too had evolved in the two decades that had passed.

Bach gives us a word of advice before reading the rest.. Think of a question in your heart. Then open the book randomly at any page.. you will find your answer.

I scoffed.. I may even have 'smiled out loud' .. I do that a lot, incidentally. It usually attracts the close circuit camera guys in these kinda stores, with those security camera guys all going " Suspicious activity detected.. bears watching. " It's probably a good thing they don't have stun guns here.. I'd have a lot of tummy burn marks,I'm guessing. Anyway, I decided I'd give the book a chance to prove itself. I closed my eyes, pondered a few seconds and asked

"All my life I've cared for people who meant a lot to me and looked to go the extra mile to show I loved them. I always believed that was the one one should express oneself. Yet today, I find myself alone in a crowd, looking at my phonebook and not having anyone to call while I await my flight. Was my concept of love and affection wrong all along ?"

I opened the book randomly.

"The only thing that matters at the end of the stay on Earth is ,

how well did you love ? what was the quality of your love ?"

I stood frozen for a good 4 seconds ( an eternity when you're bookbrowsing in a crowded store with a luggagebag on your shoulder ). Ok, that was scary, I told myself. Talk about your flukes. Still, I admit,my feathers were "mildly ruffled" I decided to try it again..

"Ok. I know I ain't the ideal human being and all that. And sure, perhaps I chose to show respect for the big guy..God, differently. But I still feel I didn't deserve the pain and suffering which I got.. I mean, worse a- holes than me were definitely on this planet. So how come I got screwed so bad, eh ?"

I opened the book.

"You build the appearances around you.

You get exactly what you deserve.

Who's to blame, who's to credit, but you ?

Who can change it, any time you wish.. but you ? "

As I sat in the plane an hour later, I wondered about how true the sentences were.. about how we create our own destiny.. how it all lies in our own hands, in the end. The sooner we stop whining and get back up, the sooner we're ready to keep moving forward. What seemed unsurmountable peaks not so long ago, now seemed delicious challenges to face. Of course, the road ahead would not be easy. It never is. There will be more tough decisions, more moments of self doubt and frustrations, more failures to come.. but I couldn't help thinking that perhaps my life had become a slightly easier place to live in.. especially now that I had my own magic 8 ball, tucked away safely in my bag to guide me whenever I'm in doubt..

Rosh decides to live

You don’t need to travel around the world for a vacation. You don’t need to chew self help books by the dozen to elicit a change within. In the end, it comes down to your own mindset. In between family duties and weddings, I had 72 hours of freedom for myself to go where I wanted.. and I chose the past. Because in the past lies some of my biggest strengths, my pillars. Of course, I wasn’t going back to Mangalore just to see if the birds and bees were still at it.. no, siree, this time, I was out to scare the city I once lived in.

1. An auspicious beginning : When I was leaving from Pune for my parole, I had made the most of my Pantaloons Green Card, looking for an entire new wardrobe, aimed just for this vacation. I was aiming for “moderately bright” ( something that would make Goan party-goers go jealous qualifies as “mildly bright”, what makes them nauseous.. now that’s “moderately bright” !!! ) Result : As I waited in the crowded railway station of Kannur, I was perhaps the only one who had free arm space to twirl around like a ballerina if I wanted. People were actually staring.. what be this ‘creature in a yellow short kurta” ? Mothers protectively shielded their children’s eyes, lest the child were to get mentally traumatized by such a explosion of colour in this sepia toned station. Hari, already in the train, and who had taken so much trouble in organising the much vaunted break for us both, had no trouble spotting me as the choo-choo train came to a grinding halt.. he just followed the crowd’s eyes to the yellow canary.. more like Big Bird, actually. You know what the funny thing was – I didn’t look to hide or jump into the bathroom for a change of clothes. Because I had 60 hours to enjoy life.. and I wasn’t giving it to the public.

2. Old caretakers : There was a sense of home, coming to the land where everything began for us. It isn’t monuments and girls that bring me back here. It’s the people I left behind. It’s the memories that I love walking by as each street intertwines with the next, as Malayalam couples with Kannada, a heady mix designed to destroy both original versions ( me being a pundit in both languages, I can survive.. but what about the poor regular folk ? ). It’s where we waited as our friends prayed in the mosques during Ramadan while we beat the rush and bought them their ‘kababs and mutton samosas’ ( they usually got the last piece ). It’s the old widow from whom we booked our travel tickets always for 6 years, even when we were in Kerala !! It’s where noodles were made in buckets using a water heater, where grown body builders were coaxed to danced in mini skirts, where a royal chicken dish still costs 60 bucks at a funky restaurant. It’s a place that welcomes me with open arms and no pretensions.

3. “Our public image” : Of course, my wardrobe and image transformation did not fail to scare the rest. Ani and Ramna, future orthopaedician and sweetheart no.1 respectively, were not given any hints of what I was wearing. They had come to pick us up from the hotel and I snuck in and got into the back seat while Hari chatted them up. They turned around to greet me.. and froze.
Ani : Umm.. yes, who are you ? How can we help you ?
Me : I missed you both too. Now, come on, start this buffalo cart. Take me to the old hangouts.
Ani and Ramna could only share one of those hubby-wife glances that say “Ani, we have a status in society. If we walk around in society with him dressed like that, I can’t show my face in the malls ever again. I know, but, what do we do now. He’s already resting comfortably in the back seat. You and your friends. Let me see you make fun of my friends ever again.”
Of course, I was quick to assure them that this collage was actually just a mild one.. that I had an amazon green kurta just waiting for a chance to be released from the luggage bag. It was perhaps for the first time that I saw fear in that poor couple’s eyes. It would not be the last time that day. Anyway, the ritual trip to CCD was par for the course.. the number of classes we’ve bunked during college for a Tropical Iceberg and hours of sofa chat are innumerable. And keeping with the script, along arrived the adventurer, VJ. As always, he went for the sugar free versions of coffee and then topped it with a choc-a-vloc ( 2 rich ice cream scoops with choco sauce ). Ramna too reprised her role as official food-and-drink tester of everything I ordered, having the first bite. Apparently, it’s because she fears that a big and famous personality like me is always at threat of being poisoned by jealous enemies.. I sometimes wonder whether she just wants to steal my food, but then .. she has a point about the “big and famous personality” and “people being jealous of mua”. Ani, meanwhile, after a couple more glances at my shirt, excused himself saying he had to ‘tie a tie’ for a guy who was graduating that day and ran away.. a process that eventually took an hour and a half..

4. Take my breath away : Evening brought the 4th piece of this jigsaw puzzle of nuts.. budding surgeon, Shaffi. Work pretty much limits our options, so any free time a doctor gets is literally gold, especially when you’re a resident. Thus getting all these fields ( Anaesthesia, Orthopaedics, Surgery and upcoming General Medicine and Hospital Administration ) together like this is a lot more difficult than it sounds. I was pretty much shocked to hear that since I’d left, this was the first time the 3 staying in Mangalore had actually had the chance to meet up in the last 6 months. I want to say it’s hilarious that it took me from Pune and Hari from Trissur to get us all together again… but deep down, I know, it’s more heartbreaking than hilarious, being in a field where “if you really want to, you will find the time to meet” doesn’t apply.
Of course, while Ani and Ramna had gone back in between tea time and dinner for a 2 hour duty at work, I had done what they perhaps feared subconsciously – I had released the amazon green shirt. Thus, at 9 pm, when the couple arrived back in town, they were greeted with a peculiar site. A green moving traffic light ? A green alien ? Ani considered running me over rather than stopping in front of me. I had faith of course in the kind heart of Ramna to save me from his evil plans ( I later found out that she was goading Ani to reverse after hitting me so that they could make sure I didn’t get up.. sheesh ! Marriage sure changes people !!! )
Ani got out of the car. “ What da hell are you supposed to be ? A peacock ?”
Ramna had her own point of view “Radha, please please give me this shirt. It’ll make an excellent blouse for me.” Of course, I couldn’t oblige.. Peacock Man does not have a spare outfit to fight crime. Await more toys and merchandise from Peacock Man as soon as I get a sponsorship from “the makers of Barbie.”

5. The case of the missing chips : Of course, with Peacock Man and Don VJ around, there just had to be an adventure lurking around. We had just entered one of the oldest lounges that the city had to offer after seeing Ani and Ramna off when we got a mysterious call telling us to come out. A challenge ? Silly fool. Super heroes like us never back down from a challenge. We came out. An eerie silence. Something was wrong. We looked around.
Where is everyone ? The streets were deserted. It was only 9.30 in the night, how could this be ? Something’s wrong, Peacock Man. I know, Don Boy. It’s almost as if the place has been cordoned off… my voice trailed off.
As a superhero, we come across scenes like this often. There was no doubt. Someone was out to get us and wanted no witnesses. But who ? And how ?
Patience,DonBoy, would be the key here.. years of yoga will be my ally in this.. "WHERE ARE YOU ? I CAN’T TAKE THIS SILENCE ANYMORE !!!!!" ( Ok, I needed to work on my patience a little more )
The phone rang again in answer. DonBoy answered it. “Will you two shut up ? We can here you all from the turning.” Donboy looked at me “Ummm.. Ramna , is that you ??” “Duh !!! Doesn’t your mobile have caller ID ?” “Well, actually, I’m the only one in India who doesn’t pay the caller ID tax, so actually..” “Gaaah !! Look, it’s urgent. My bus to Bangalore is leavin in 10 minutes and I need the secret CD key in your car which will activate my GPRS.” “Ummm.. that’s gonna be difficult, Ramna” he said. I intervened. Don’t be silly, Donboy. It’s just a CD chip. It should be easy to find. “Ummm.. PeacockMan, the CD chips are in the backseat of my car.” A sharp intake of breath from me and a gasp from Ramna in the phone entered the silence that followed.
You see, Donboy owns one of the few 2 seater cars in the city. Well, technically, it’s a 4 seater Matiz, but it’s been years since anyone has sat in the backseat.. anyone human, that is. That backseat has held, at various times. A microwave oven, a goat, a turkey, kittens, a post office box ( don’t ask.. seriously, don’t ask ). That’s in addition to stuff like his graduation certificates and other vital and non vital items. Sufficed to say, noone knew the colour of the seats in the back.
We opened the door. Nothing had changed. A bat and a couple of mating armadillos sauntered out, cursing in Amazonian slang. Not that that cleared the area any.. there was only one way we could find this. One of us would have to go in… this was a job for Peacock Man. A quick ruffle of my feathers and I had changed into civilian outfit ( 5 % less brighter than my superhero outfit .. helps me blend in with the everyday crowd.) After donning my scuba gear and double oxygen cylinder, I went in. I’ll spare you the details – sufficed to say, with 2 seconds of oxygen left, the chips were found.. another success for the dynamic duo as Ramna got her GPRS code.. it’s a different matter altogether that she never used it.

6. Sone de Nakra : Zero Degrees combines an awesome menu with a great ambience and best of all, a great DJ. That DJ, was of course, tempting me for awhile with some really funky beats. Hari, ever the sane one out of the 2 of us, of course, was searching for a bicycle chain to tie me up to the table so I didn’t make an ass out of myself. After getting adequate promises that I’d stick to food and drinks, he turned his attentions to the Plasma TV. As the beats started to merge with the next song, he turned to ask me whether I recognized the ‘familiar tune.’ Silly boy. I had left the table at the first change in the beat.
For neither twists nor a plethora of dishes could have hidden the beat of ‘Sone de Nakre’.. I had promised I would dance to it before I died, remember. Well, Rosh is a man of his word. That DJ probably knew it too – “Nach Roshan Nach. Tumhe mere Kasam. Tumhe Govinda aur Salman ke kasam..” Of course, maybe he didn’t say those exact words.. maybe he didn’t say a thing. I wouldn’t know. I was too busy dancing. Hari, of course, realized the futility of holding me back and did the only thing that made sense.. joined in. When the song started, there was one couple on the dance floor. I’m proud to say, I left the dance floor only after bringing in 70% of the crowd into the dance floor. Introverted ? What’s that…

7. Final touches : Every good thing must come to an end. We knew that when we started on this journey, didn’t we ? It had many moments besides the above snippets –
• Meeting batchmate and ENT surgeon in the making, Nazia, now a mother, but still the same kid we always knew her to be.. I don’t know what kind of women would make the best moms but I always believed it’s these type – the type who stay young at heart always.. not with makeup and botox, but just by being sweethearts. No makeup can hide that.
• Goldfinch is a new hotel which came up which looks extremely promising and I and Hari didn’t miss the chance to dine there twice. Valet parking, a creme de menthe and a James Bond drink showed our complete lack of respect for the Gandhi notes.. of course, Gandhi had his own revenge and the next day, I was playing host at Pizza Corner to make a quick buck for my train ticket back ( forget the lunch crowd, the damn cook ran away within an hour of my joining ). Anyway, I was paid to leave and that was good enough..The gang made it to the station in time - Shaf feigning an illness in his department and Donboy sporting his rockstar brother’s band shirt ( try it out.. the songs ain’t bad at all ). Sweet goodbyes, inside jokes.. oh yes, and a superfast rush to catch the train which was trying to escape without me…hah!
• The icing on the cake ? The news that Ramna and Ani are now mothering and fathering, respectively.. the perfect news to end a memorable trip. I’ve already promised to make little boy and girl outfits out of my Peacock Man outfits for the kid and teach the kid all about fashion.. for some reason, the phone line kept getting bad as I told them about my plans and they claimed they couldn’t hear what I was saying… stupid phone lines. Weird, huh ? They could hear everything else but when I tried explaining how I figured on developing the kid along a Bappi Lahiri style.. zzppiit, the line goes bad. Oh well… I'd have plenty of time to ponder over it once work begins again.

It's a funny aspect of life. You don't always have to go far away to find yourself.. sometimes it's right where you left them. You don't have to see a new destination to enjoy beauty. Sometimes, looking back itself reveals sights you've never seen.. sights you've taken for granted till they were gone. Sometimes not having friends beside you can be a blessing as it helps you realise just how much they mean to you.

Just another post...

Just a short post as there's tons of shopping and a train awaiting..

Why are people being so bitchy about Saawariya.. all the reviews I saw before I went for the movie absolutely killed the movie.. I'm not even gonna say that perhaps cause my expectations were down, I enjoyed it. I would have loved that movie nonetheless. It was poetry in motion ( ok, a play in motion, but still.. ) I found it a very admirable effort from all involved..the sets, the lighting and colours ( ok, I'm partial to aquatic shades, but hey, tell me, you weren't blown away by the look ). If anything, the jarring parts were those of Rani and Salman. The newbies were just tooooo lovely, in pretty demanding roles. Sigh.. Sad that films like this and Johny Gadaar don't get their worth.

P.S. There's so much byplay in between the lines that get missed in both of them.

Om Shaanti Om.. well, a lot of the humour (the tiger scene had me in tears as did the quadriplegic Om's second version of the marriage scene ) reminded me of my own, not to mention the "fantasy" aspect of the story. Shah Rukh was awesomely refreshing.. finally he's getting the scripts that suit him. Deeps was a treat to the eyes and does know her acting..a lot of what Farah Khan was aiming for appealed to me - the obvious over-acting in the first half, the inside jokes on the industry, even the graciousness of the whole industry to come in for all those cameos.. still, I wish the ending were better, I and most of the crowd telegraphed what the twist was with nearly 30 minuts to go.. oh well, you can't have it all.

Two different genres, two entirely new forms of story telling.. somehow, I found both "equally" good. If you were to ask me who won the Diwali war, I'd say it was a 3 way tie. 3 way ? Ah, my dear, you can't ask me to get Jab We Met out of mind so easily, can you ? Not with that damn haunting "Tum se Hi" competing with "Aankhon mein tere " and "Saawariya..".. it was a good week for filmgoers. Thats what matters, right ?

P.S. Await shockin snaps and a fun vacation in the comin post...

Oooooh.. aaaaaah

This is more of a follow up to the "man on the moon" post.. it had perked up my interest in optical illusions and other phenomena so I went hunting through the net.. I got a lot of routine fare, to be sure, as the net is full of them.
But out of the lot, this one interested me, mainly because they claim it's real, which I find hard to believe. Apparently, it's a Lake in Burma with a very peculiar rock formation and this kinda scene occurs "only once in a year at a particular angle".. when you hear that line itself, you smell something fishy...
Nevertheless, I'm adding it here because if it's real, then it proves that God's an Aquarian ( please, that kind of creativity ain't coming from no horned people ). And if it's fake, it's still a brilliant fake..

P.S. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, take a look at the picture after tilting your head ( so both your eyes are on the left side, guys, not right )





Oh, and I'm ending with this advertisement for Club 18-30. It's a travel organisation for youngsters. Why am I leaving a travel agency ad on my blog.. well, that depends on what your eyes see now, doesn't it ?


P.S. What do you think of the new Godyears template ?

The world at my fingertips, a song on my lips...

Seek high, seek low, search the malls, walk the streets... in front of inox or in the queues of KFC.. you shall find me not. Pune will be a decidedly gloomier land this week.. do you not know why ? Because, I'M GOING HOME !!!!!!
I'm on parole for a week.. it's down to the final countdown really now. My heart's been running on empty for awhile now and it's time to refuel, especially since I've been on duty continuously for 4 of the last 5 days. Rest assured, I will be back. Rest assured, there will be snaps !!!!

Another thing I wanted to add before I left.. ever since I got here, there's been very little time to read people's blogs with the hectic work hours and miniscule sleep hours. Well, that changes now. I've finally activated GPRS ( after 4 complaint calls just for activation of the darn thing ) and I must say it is a godsend for me. While I can't add a comment in your posts via it, now atleast I can take a few minutes off work to just read people's thoughts in between a coffee break or while going to sleep.. people whose thoughts I enjoy reading. In the last 48 hours, I've read so many articles from so many of your old posts which I had missed in the past.. I must say with a fair helping of conceit, that it feels funky to see my site on my mobile with all its colors and pics and MY OWN WORDS !!! Who woulda thought a day would come when people all over the world could read my views via their mobile?? Cheers, bloggers. We have arrived.

I'm off now to comment on various blog posts I've missed and found interesting.. after that, well, Kannur, here comes Papaaaaaaaaaaaaaa !!!

The God insecurity

I don't know how many of you already know of this picture and the hooha it's brewing all around the world. But for those of you who don't know what it's about, please stop reading for a moment and focus on the picture you see here. Tell me what you see in the moon ? Go ahead, strain your eyes. Then, come back to the rest of this post.

So, what did you see ? Did you see what so many blessed mortals saw ? Did you see the divine presence ? Did you see God ? Because that's what so many people got.



It was mayhem and madness, rolled in one. Suddenly, you had all the believers sending sms, international calls and net posts saying - "Look at the moon ! Look at the moon ! He's on the moon !" Suddenly, the man banned in quite a few international countries and facing a waning popularity was back in the news in a big way. Suddenly, there was the old swagger in the devotees ( Who's your God , now, eh, disbeliever !!! ). Over what ? A cloud covering the moon.

Your eyes see what you want them to see. They ignore what doesn't fit into their point of view and match the rest into the equation. It's as simple as that, really. When your heart is set on a girl, her natural smile as she passes you by will be read as " I love ya too, baby !!! Let's ditch my rich parents and live like love monkeys on the fruits of love at your one room flat !." Alternatively, when someone you despise walks past you without acknowledging you just because he's preoccupied, you alone will see a "I hate you, yyou little weasel. Let's go outside and thumb fight till one of us bleeds to death."

It starts from there, doesn't it..our insecurities ? We see what we want to see to further our beliefs. We build a palace out of these fictional bricks, painting the non existant walls with our minds mirages till they blur out the reality outside.
The difference here from a madman's plight is that since it thrives on insecurity, it is not restricted to the singular. Many people pass by, see the palace and decide it suits them better than reality.

It starts from a benign "she always wears black" to a maligning "she's always around booys only " to a destructive "she'll sleep with anyone."


It starts with a "he hurt my daddy", moves to "he's a dictator" and ends with "he's got weapons of mass destruction". A million lives later, many of the believers have realised they were sucked in by their insecurity for their lives.. an insecurity foor which they were ready to let thousands of women and children die.

It works because we all carry our insecurities. We all need to cushion our hearts againstt the truth. We all need to believe in others flaws, to tell ourselves we do no wrong... to tell ourselves that God is in the moon just because there's a fluffy cloud in tthe sky ( 'Gadzooks !! A cloud in the sky, Holmes ? That's shocking.' 'Indeed, Watson. And not just any cloud.. a fluffy cloud.' )

I can visualise the millions of devotees sharpening their peace loving tridents to carve themselves a meaty slice of Rosho ( 3rd room on the left, 4th floor. I'm the hunk with the John Katzenbach novel ), but look, you have to face facts too. A person who needs to believe will believe whetherr it's God on the moon on the Loch Ness Monster at a Scottish strip club
( Ay laddie, I saw 'er with me own wie eyes and I tell ya', shhe 'ad the biggest honkerrs I'd ever seen. )

But give me the freedom to not see what I can't visualise as well. It doesn't make me a lesser 'chhaddi dost' of the Big G than you. It just means that I don't need to read too much into a cloud. I don't see a human's face ( the friend who brought this incident to my notice used the world cult leader.. hhmmm ) in the moon. I'm just not that insecure on the presence of God on Earth.
And if you're gonna keep persisting on the fluffy cloud.. well, there is a slight resemblance to Boney M now that you mention it.. HAIL BONEY !!

Final word : Sigh.. yawn.. sigh. Do good. Be good.. God's in ya. And remember... don't always trust your eyes.