Four weddings and a Funeral

An autumnal winter welcomed me,

For a lovely wedding,typically Indian.

Where the boy meets the girl amidst families and blessings.

Life begins on an arranged note.Rehearsed.

Seven years is brave for love to be as fresh.

Does your man cook dinner for you today?

Life is hopeful, circumstances tougher.

Advised to be married and followed.Exotic.

A father's delight.A mother's pride.

Their daughter is an MBA.Applied for PhD.

The day approaches, the watches are matching ones.

She is just a kilometer away in the same neighbourhood.Relieved.

The darling of everyone,the labour of their love,

She just learnt how to say, "maasi!" a week ago.

She has gone home after her play.

The playground does not look the same.Tragic.

A summer wedding, maybe.

A winter one,hopefully.

When is it happening?

Coming soon!

And, Hyderabad saw some who ran

A social responsibility initiative of a college and an NGO to promote 1098 - Childline. The roads surely belonged to the young ones - those who ran, those who walked, those who zoomed in their bikes and scootys for delicious eye candy  and for want of sunscreen.Some kids who wore the white tees were absolutely thrilled for the faarst time! I hope, you get the drift.

I had dressed aptly for the occasion - in sports gear, only to realise I was going to emcee the show! I mean, what? Methinks, I should command a premium going forward for all the stop-gap arrangements I do (wink, wink). Overheard -"Arey, yeh Chinese bhi bhag rahi re!" That's Hyderabad for me after 4 years.

I carried a spare kurta, a hand towel, sunscreen and a pair of sneakers for a colleague (who never wore them, I am grrr that she didn't tell me she already had one). And, yes. The stage did not have adjoining green rooms, not even a makeshift one. I was expected to change my outfit in some goddam car, which did not even have dark screen.Nevermind, the dignitaries can wait. They did. Meanwhile, I walked to the MMTs Railway Station at Sanjeevaiah Park, spoke to the counter guys to open the ladies loo. The old gardener had the key.  In a minute, I was in a new avatar. Kalamkari kurta, black capris and absolutely colorful sneakers and mehndi hands and strictly told, I cant wear a cap.Thank god, for sunscreen. In such times, the common man also loves to play some power games to establish the hierarchy.He asked for a neat 11 rupees. The most beautiful invective that flew out of my sacred morning mood was 'Chup be!' I did not even use the loo for its real purpose, besides the free loos in most malls are way cleaner than his one.The juice guy brushed past me, helpfully whispered in English -"Madam, pay him one rupee only." 'Only' before/after/ stressed/non-stressed is so Hyderabadi. I thanked him in the most 'firang' fashion to make his day. And I marched to the venue, only to be nearly gasped at by everyone. The programme began, amidst jumps and starts, coughs and hiccups, breaks and whatever. I think, I don't remember a word of what I spoke there.Daniel Defoe gave the world one Manfriday for Robinson Crusoe, yours truly is the female version for all seasons - I felt like aloo-tamatar, dal-chawal, ginger-garlic, salt and pepper (please ignore the food analogy, I was really hungry when I was doing the show).

The program got over, and as anticipated, there were enough and young Shakespearean fools, gender unspecific - some eat out of your hands, some  eat dust, some commit faux pas of going all giddy about classified information - who provide such sitcom entertainment.I mean, college kids around their teachers will continue to be moony eyed (guffaws). There are rare exceptions like  me, for example.

B and I had a total girl's day out. Sandwich starters with two lovely kids.Then Chinese lunch.Then, a total brain-outing of a Hollywood movie, of course not to forget the jewellery shopping (blush blush).Tired feet dying for TLC.

Psst : KCR forgot there was Jai Telangana bandh. The chief guest, some politician looked so pissed to have been woken up so early, especially on a Saturday.

Smiles. 

Tuk-Tuk tales : Kiss in the mirror

I hailed this auto last morning on my way to work, it had all the works of Basanti Tangewali. Anyway, meter on and we were on our way zooming when i notice a salacious pair of ugly red lips on both the side mirrors.OOOf!

Whichever side of the auto one sits, at the back - central, left or right, our man has ensured he gets a a live coverage of heaving bosoms, with dupatta, scarf, odhni or without one from the rear-view mirror.

I tried to perch myself strategically away from those roguish lips,i managed to hide from one side but was covered on the other, not happening!

And our man in a torn khaki shirt was too listless and bored to care about the discomfort.Anyway, i thought this makes for an interesting entry and for lack of a better pair of lens, i took out my old and humble N72 to capture those lips. Our man got alerted.He began stretching his arms to,ofcourse, block my view. He also began driving superfast through all potholes and god, i wanted to swear at him. But then, i spared him.Om Gandhigiri!

I took about 6 wrong pictures before i hooked the ones i wanted.

Alpaviram

Breezy autumn evening, mosquito coils, tabla beats resonating in the air amidst sound check - 1,2,3, guitar man chewing a gum most audaciously (was he bored? can he get bored?he was melancholic, methinks).Chairs getting arranged, tickets guesstimated and sold, everyone getting ready and most arriving late - our lady in nice shimmering saree with neck tilted to one side and all her hair falling on one side of her shoulder revealing her milky white arms and lovely back.Seats negotiated, some want it in front, you know the feel-important look and act-pricey bit.Organisers accommodating and obliging, visual distraction with a tch-tch.Annoying audience, especially the one seated immediately behind us, bad leg manners.Some corporate rookie with a very pronounced tee exclaiming dude-ness in rudeness.Nevermind.May his legs hurt.

The show began before time, from the mike testing. The Audience didn't know if something began.Maybe, they did. They stopped expecting the ceremonial hello, good evening wala introduction.I knew the show began when the dried leaves showered almost, naturally.The skies didn't open up, thank god!

A flautist, a percussionist, tablas and guitars - sheer magic that even tone deaf people sat up and kept quiet.The compositions were short, lively and arresting.

7 Zoozoos and their 1 director Zoozoo without the eggheads just ransacked the stage randomly without any punctuation.Lost in music and rhythm, not able to get their beat. They looked a little unsettled, they insist they are just the way they are - no holds barred, please did you come looking for something? Delivery of most ad-punch lines, abrupt and deafening. Again, a disclaimer. It's just the way they are.Reminded me of the premise of the Theater of the Absurd, randomness as a plot, if there was any.The sub-plots are interesting with the expanded 4-dimensional exaggeration, very much needed.Use of props, excellent. Improvisation it was!Background music was not required even for extended effect, dialogues were lost sometimes because of it.A very A-rated evening generous and replete with 'Pardon my French' stuff. Acting, each one was a class apart.Situational comic relief, awesome.The Audience laughed even at tragic moments.The emotions represented by each Number -profound!Love, Anger, Acceptance, Memory, Peace, Fear - one thread of randomness. Some sections were visibly disturbing and dragging - the abortion-foetus scene, the prostitute mother-son pain.Fear was the best. Peace was natural, effervescent and peppered with messages. The Director gave his heart and soul, pretty evident. The sweat of his toil is Alpaviram. Standing ovation. The MC did not have to fish  for compliments. The rain clap did not have to be taught. It rained claps. We enjoyed it thoroughly.

The audience.Sigh!Outrageous mobile phone etiquette - we just could not care less. The annoying buzz of not-so muted conversations to race towards demonstration of gray matter and how they can connect and identify.The media - defiant and noisy, they always do us favours by perching the cameras and expecting goodies.A piqued gentleman rebuked them, deservedly so.

There was this permanent breathing prop on stage, a clayed girl - the idol. The sutradhar. She breaks free. Brought memories of Rekha Bharadwaj's Tere Ishq Mein - how the heavens and the mountains move in the spirit of love.

Crescendo!

No more reviews, please

Two aunties are avid movie buffs. They would go watch movies from Monday until Wednesday, morning-afternoon shows to keep abreast before the next Friday release.How multiplexes are on weekdays, well, no idea. Our grand dames always booked 4 tickets, one each on either side were kept vacant so that the junta don't rub elbow space with their arms.I thought they plagiarised my idea.Damn!

Writing about movies no longer happening. The big theater no longer excited me. The popcorn- water bottle jaunts no longer irritated me. I dint want to go to the loo during the short break. I hate BookMyShow. I miss Talkie Town.I miss last minute bookings.No time for wish-fulfilment.Independent gallery. Movies are a chore today.

The last movie that I watched of Ajay Devgun left me smiling - U,Me aur Hum when he says love is endurance.Once Upon a Time in Mumbai, Road Movie and Peepli Live. Unparalleled stuff, apparently. Overheard smart corporate-ish people saying -" kya?" Death of the audience. Too cliched if you praised the movie, suicidal to question the premise.

But nevertheless Dhinchaak paisa vasool

Dabangg - kamaal karte ho Salluji. You did it! Forget the South Indian Robot with your ex-Miss World 97, you are more handsomer than Rajnikant ( lovely hearts floating in between the eyes)

Do Dooni Char - typical North Indian family, modest income.Why was it so familiar? Relatives.Shaadi expenses of sister's in-law's somebody. Not Disappointing but not impressive stuff from the original Kapoor couple's only other comeback after Love Aaj Kal.

Aakrosh - Disturbing. Hardhitting.Ajay Devgun and Akshaye Khanna. Raw. Sensuous.Dripping.Gripping.

Curiosity killed the cat!

Aisha - i thought of Abhay Deol, i smiled. But well, both of us sighed at Aisha. Sigh! No, not remotely Jane Austen.Sacrilege! Anooradha Patel, well.vintage ;-)
Anjaana Anjaani - Piggy Chops after Dostana and Pyaar Impossible, and not to forget her month-long TV wateva is over the moon with this one. The clothes are as incompetitive as Aisha's designer wear but even Ranbir's  dependable sterotyped goofiness is not saving the pennies. Depressing premise.
I hate Luv Storys - God,save me!

Khatta Meetha - needed hajmola to digest Akki's common man chatri act and that irritatable punctuation-forgotten constipated rajdhani express dialogues. Marital rape and violence in an Akki-Priyadarshan treat, nah! Too many social issues!

So glad I dint dare watch Badmaash Company - don't like Anushka Sharma,so no show despite her all show. watched her Rab Ne by chance because i dint know her name.

Midnight conversations

A poem

Scenes and flashbacks.

Hide and seek betrayal.

Life on a begging platter.

Diminished but hopeful.

Happiness and flourish.

Speculations ruin.

Promises destroy.

Never look back.

Dignity and truth.

Awareness eases.

You live to smile.

Smile to love.

A promise

Life alone is not easy, so I'm told.Cranky behaviour, panic calls and difficult conversations.Solution, get hitched.Problem,find the right person.A meeting.Laughter, bonhomie.Maybe,maybe not.Sorry,I am cynical.

Yes,buoyant!Coffee.Long drive,no candlelight dinner yet.Shopping,a movie?

Screeecch! No, not happening.Never happening.Broken.No.Taking it easy.

Moral : Whatever happens, happens for the best .

Stories

What do you mean by G-O-D? Don't know.G- Generate,O-Organise,D-Demolish.Arey, Brahma,Vishnu, Maheshwar, our Hindu Trinity!All scriptures mean the same.All roads lead to Rome,er..G-O-D.

What goes around comes around.Why you and I met in this world.Surely, a reason.Tch, cliched.Someone asked Goddess Ganga if she does not feel the burden of sins washed into her by mankind.No way, she gives to the Sagar (sea).She has no reason to be burdened.Sagar also did not carry the burden of sins washed down by the three holy rivers - Ganga, Jamuna and Saraswati. He gave it back  to the Baadal (clouds). Baadal never kept the burden at all, whoever defaulted - he visited them during the rainy season and wreaked havoc with a little flood here and there.

Awareness of sin is important, acknowledging is even more important.Maharathi Bheeshma Pitamah, the grand patriach of the Kauravas and the Pandavas on his death-bed made of arrows asked Lord Krishna what  he had sinned to deserve this. Remaining silent when a person is wronged amounts to sin.Many years ago, he had diced a snake to death. Two landmark events that went on compounding for lack of awareness.

Never borrow or seek a favour from anyone.The idea of return gifts.Need not be expensive.The thought matters.Be self-reliant. I will give no favour and expect none.

Life is beautiful.

Reaffirmation

That happy unaware child with the balloon.
That lil' girl building castles in the beach.
And the content wife praying to the guardian deity
Not to forget the protective mother weaving stories for her child.
...
The misgivings of trust and time
Never necessarily breaks the doll's house.
Some get disheartened, a little.
Some disappointed, somewhat.
...
Your name beams with your picture,
Reaffirming of the calm twilight to come.
My feet curl up when the seas come ashore.
Looking for familiars lest I drown.
...
Years of love, and longing
Seek approval in that one missed call
Which you lovingly indulge, like always.
And the petulant me skips a heartbeat.


Smiles.