"PHOONK"ED!

It was a perfectly bad day...everything going the way other than the one I intended!

So I decided to lick my wounds in the comforting darkness of a movie theatre...along with two victims of my whimsical plan for a movie( I literally pulled them out of their afternoon siesta!).

There we were, standing in front of the supposedly best movie hall in north campus ( I can't help but mention the fact that movie-lovers would have felt marooned here had it not been for the Delhi metro) after a bumpy rickshaw ride, which reminded us we had been skipping the gym for quite some time. And guess what,....... it was "Phoonk" which was being screened and not "Rock on!"(now come on, how do I know the "Batra glitz" in the movie schedule is not our "beloved" Batra of north campus?!!). The three of us kept staring at the movie banner wishing something would happen and "Phoonk" would change to "Rock on!". After much brain-storming we finally decided to let RGV scare us a bit.

One step into the "chitra mandir" and I decided never to treat any of my south delhi friends to a movie in north campus( there are other distractions here...Kamala nagar and "momos point" zindabad!). The nauseating musty smell made me wonder if I would last till the end of the movie, though it was really comfortable with lots of space to stretch out our legs( did I mention two-thirds of the hall was empty?)

Then the torture began....would somebody please tell RGV that its not just low camera angles, going-round-and-round-the-actors( it does nothing more than making us dizzy) and close-ups of animal figurines ( may be in a hope that they would start doing an item number to save the fate of his movie) which makes a horror movie scary? Whenever the irritating background score allowed us to hear the mediocre dialogues we got the chance to give our ears a break. To tell you frankly, I got spooked only once during the entire movie in the mirror-walla scene. And one of my unlucky companions did the honours of reminding everyone that it was a horror movie that we were watching by shrieking at the top of her voice.

Then there was the very confusing message of the movie....what were these people actually trying to tell us, were they trying to testify the existence of black magic and all ( we can argue on this on some other post in the near future). No, thank you RGV, we really don't need to strengthen the grip of such beliefs from which science has been struggling to free us in the past many decades. By saying this, I am not denying the prevalance of such things in some quarters of our society but "Phoonk" was definitely not a sensible take on the subject.

Much bored, we were relieved when the movie ended, though the splitting headache as an after-taste of the experience was the last thing we had hoped for. What's more, the clinging hope I had pinned on the movie to redeem my day was extinguished with a "phoonk"!

Olympic blues...

Its Olympics time yet again! And my heart painted with the tricolour sent a silent prayer above this time too even though the site of a heavily disproportionate Indian contingent ( read more officials than required against lesser players than wished!) didn't fail to prick me this time too.

The first thought which crossed my mind (yet again), after the euphoria of seeing my countrymen among the world's best sportsmen died, was, " _ _ _ _!this handfull of players is all our more-than-a-billion-strong population could breed! that too after 62 years of Independence!!...to hell with the nuclear power, where is our manpower?!"

I don't want to sound like a cynic, but a cynic is what I become every four years since the first Olympics I watched when a kid. At that time, I used to feel embarrased when I saw the other major sporting countries' never-ending contingents, their jubiliation seemed like mockery to me, as if they were jeering at me...."look, kid! your men are so less here"....I used to hate that feeling.

Even as an adult, I find it hard to reconcile with the ol' feeling; now my pet sarcastic remark is ..."don't you think we should switch the channel to watch our 11 men in blue trying to compromise their gel-fixed hair in running after a stupid red leather ball for the whole day?".... then the dam of frustration would overflow..."why can't we deviate our attention and funds from the glamorous pseudo-athletes to the struggling Maleshwaris, P.T.Ushas and Kunjaranis? Their only fault is they chose to play a lesser popular game rather than opting for the sport played by our demi-gods!

But then comes the much-awaited respite, Abhinav Bindra has won the gold medal, the first ever individual one. But then the question which I had been trying to keep out of my mind overtakes..." could he have done it had he been not a billionaire's son and had been dependent on the Government for training and funds?"; well, this is a question I myself would rather avoid answering.....

The orbituary

I lost my baby
What can be more unhappy?
What a mom I am
Don't even remember it's name!


no...I didn't have a secret lover whose child I bore!!
Its an idea that I lost....I know many who fancy themselves as writers can understand exactly how I must be feeling.

It was just before lunch today that I thought nobody could stop me from winning the Nobel prize for literature now...what a brilliant idea it was!( hey, what's wrong in dreaming?).But before I yielded to my literary urges I gave in to my gastronomical demands.

The less-than-ordinary lunch in the hostel mess, a 'hi' here and a 'bye' there took me away from my "baby"....and before I realised I had forgotten all about writing it.The thought had got drowned in the violent red of Ram Singh's curry.

By the time I came back to my room the site of my study table reminded me of the "brilliant idea" I had left unattended, unprotected by the covers of my diary....."drats! now I can't even recall the title I had intended to give to my unwritten poem!"

I tried hard...I tried everything...recalling each and every thought that had passed through my mind since morning...I even untied my hair, burried my head in my pillow, was in a position anyone could have mistaken for a yogasana...hehe....but it didn't tumble out of my brain.

I know it's there,.. still there....hope it can, someday, come out of the tangles of my neurons!

come'on Rafa!

Did everyone witness what happened in the centre court of All England's club this year?
This year's Wimbledon Gentlemen's final, between lord-of-the-grass Roger Federer and the clay master Rafael Nadal, was a page written in Wimbledon history- longest final match ever .It gave one a peek into the historic final match between the then defending champion Bjorn Borg and John McEnroe, but much faster and more powerful a game.

Even Nature was in her elements, so were the players, the raging bull from Spain versus (arguably) the finest player modern tennis has seen.The players matched their skills point-by-point, only one wished Roger had played a stronger game. For a while fans feared the grass-king would go down to Nadal in straight sets, but he suddenly picked up his game to stretch the match to become a five-setter which lasted almost five hours.

The rain-interrupted match saw a much improved game from Nadal, who went on to take a bite of success , quite literally, as he went on to win the match and bit his trophy in his trademark style.Nadal had won 6-4, 6-4, 6-7, 6-7, 9-7.

I, for one, had always had my loyalty been torn between Federer and Nadal, but this time the tennis fan in me couldn't have asked for more. Now am ready to cheer for the crowned prince of tennis as he goes on to become the world number one and my heart will only say......."Rafa, hubba, hubba!"

If at first you don't succeed, try, try,try again...

This is my second attempt.
nah! am not talking about UPSC exams. Well...this is my second attempt at starting my own blog.

What stopped me the first time round?...it was just the thought of spending (read, wasting) time writing and maintaining a blog, but more was the thought that I'ld have to write on a compulsion of making my blog updated( this being just one of the many manifestations of my hatred towards compulsions, forced boundaries....lets talk about this sometime later). But what the heck! There are people who post on their blogs once a year....I can write as much or as little as I want!!

The major thrust came from my having to spend whole days working on a summer project, right here, in front of the computer- the door to my dream blog.Resisting the urge to write has been futile and time-consuming( I need lesser time to write a thing than to try to desist and put it out of my mind)

So, here I go again....on my second attempt...am not talking about UPSC exams, man!