Face To Face

Deepak, a friend and colleague, and a gifted photographer decided to click a few of my snaps and ask a few questions for his blog.

Deepak,

Thank you so much for choosing me as a subject of your interview post. I enjoyed every bit of the photoshoot and the interview. Thanks for making me feel like a Diva. God Bless you. :-)

Click the link of Exposemaximum for the interview:

Exposemaximum

Why SRK is my God!

Words fall short when someone asks me why I revere Shahrukh Khan. I have on many occasions tried to explain but in vain. Most of the times the words have failed to translate the emotions to ‘T’. On other occasions I was sure that the person I was rambling in front of just would not be able to comprehend from where I was coming from. So, in true filmy fashion I will try to pen down my reverence for the man, who I have on many occasions gone as far as comparing to the God almighty.

SRK is God by the definition that God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. This said, I believe that everyone has the right to choose their Gods. In form of human, stone, energy, Is, One. Circumstances in my life were such that only SRK came close to fitting the description of God, as I understood the Supreme.

To begin with, a self-confessed ‘maa ki pooch’, I liked SRK just because my mom liked him. Then some 11 years ago, in November of 1998, my father was admitted to the hospital for 19 days and he succumbed to Hepatitis B and passed away on December 7. Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, was released on October 16, 1998. Piracy was rampant and the cable wala had dutifully showed the film within two days of the release. I had seen the film on TV several times before seeing it in theatre.



The atmosphere in the house was something I don’t want to even remember. With death looming in the corner and the air thick with depression, it was dark and tense. Smiling was not an option that was even considered. There were days when as a 15 and a half year old I would cry my eyes red. Then there were days when tears would not come but grey tear marks on my cheeks could be spotted by friends and family from miles away.

The only time, I smiled was when SRK would tell Kajol, “ladkiyon jaise mat chilaoo” or “Excusez-moi”. I would feel “everything would be alright” when Rahul, played by SRK, would assure his eight-year-old daughter that "everything will be alright". I saw the sadness I was feeling in SRK’s eyes and by the end of the three hours he would give the scared teenager sobbing soundlessly late into the night, assurance of hope that something better would come.

I am no more a teenager but that positivity, which he still exudes through the screen, has the power to make me smile in the darkest hour. And thus as far as I am concerned SRK is God

As God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Art Of Conversation: Women vs Men

Most of the women I am meeting these days are verbosity personified. A colleague, who never leaves a single opportunity to remind me that I am elder to her, will use at least four sentences just to say that she will remain quiet for the next five minutes. She recently said that she not only talks a lot herself, but can also boost talking capacity of others manifolds. “I am a communicable disease,” she had proudly declared. Others, mostly school time friends, are eager to share the details of their love life, or rather the lack of it.
Now, this might not seem like something that should occupy blog-space, but for someone like me, who has been TALKITIVE since before comprehending the nuances of words and languages, the situation takes precedence over the Iran issue. Unfortunately, I cannot hate these women who talk incessantly . Not just because I am a really nice person and just can’t bring myself to hating anyone. It has more to do with the fun I have with the gal pals. They are funny and have the best of stories to last me a lifetime, if I ever fall short of material for the blog.
A recent conversation with a male colleague, however, made me profusely thank the powers above for making the women in my life as they are. The said colleague, who calls me a female Hitler, and my world, feminist Hitler’s Third Reich, had a one-word answer or response for N number of questions or statements. “Nice,” that is all he said. Amazed at the expanse of his vocabulary I could not but think that if not for women, languages would die.

Nods, burps and farts , is all that men need to have a meaningful conversation.

Prove me wrong! :-)



*Dedicated to Aditi and Biswarup.

अश्क

जब तुम थे अपनी हथेली से पोछने के लिए
यूँ बहते थे ये, की इन्हें थमना याद ना रहा,
जो गए तुम, थमी ज़िन्दगी इस तरह
की इन अश्कों को आना भी याद ना रहा!


Sketch courtesy Google Image Search. I cannot draw a straight line, if my life depended on it. :-)

Nostalgia

Old photos
Songs we sang in school.
Films from our times
Books we turned yellow.
With a tear for company
And smile as a mate
I have hit nostalgia lane.

This is all the heart wants

A second helping of the dessert,
After a seven course meal
Five minutes more of sleep
After an eight-hour lay-in
Two licks of his ice cream
After devouring my own cassata

One more rainy day
After a monsoon spell

This is all the heart wants.

'Rakhi Ka Swayamwar' What Are We Stooping To?

And so it has begun, the kalyug, declared my grandmother. Men will now romance men and women, other women. However, even the High Court order making gay sex legal had not scandalized the 75+ lady as much as the news that 10 men had decided to prove their love for the item bombshell in the show Rakhi ka swayamwar. With a sigh she declared, while Rakhi has found 10 suitors, my granddaughter doesn’t even have a boyfriend. Not one to be bogged down by such comments, I was quick to divert the topic and said, it is a progressive show. Look, finally the goal of women emancipation is turning into a reality. She is calling the shots and men, who in another world, in a different time zone would have easily been suspected of committing heinous crimes, are today dancing, walking on coals and making complete fools out of themselves for the chance to marry Rakhi.




Is the show authentic? Well, I am no gaon ki gauri to believe that for a moment. But accept it or not, it is catching eyeballs and how. The show scaled to the TRP rating of 3.5% in cable and satellite homes of the Hindi speaking market in the first week itself. The sensible person, living in some dark corner within me nauseates at the idea of majority of the Indian viewers watching the so called dramatized swayamwar. But lets face it, the girl who, after making 4 pages and reading 5 pages, driving through the manic traffic of Delhi, arguing about innumerable things with acquaintances and strangers, would not like anything better but to see 10 men making complete fools of themselves for Rakhi Sawant. This makes me wonder, are we as a society becoming voyeuristic in our tendencies. We love watching Bigg Boss, Sarkar Ki duniya and Roadies. We claim it is for the tasks… but lets admit it it is as much for Palak’s abuses and Ali’s attempts to woo women, who were his fellow contestants.

I know this issue is not as serious as the unrest in Iran and China, the soaring prices of veggies, pulses and petrol in India or the delayed monsoons. But it is something to think about and certainly something to worry. Especially since majority of the people in this room, me included, are just plain sadists, who love to see others do in reel life, what we hold back ourselves from doing in real life.