Know me a little..

List five things that you want to say to people but never will. Don't say who they are.

1. Open your eyes. Look at yourself. Don't live in Denial. Before it's too late....
2. Don't change if you don't feel the need to. Keep pretending if it makes you happy.
We won't wait forever.
3. It's over. We're no more. It's all for the best so accept it and move on.
4. You misled me all the while. You broke me. Now, you're gone. But I'll wait for you. I adore you. Someday, we'll meet. Remember me.
5. I only live because it makes you happy, and that's how long I'll live. If it weren't for you, I would've been gone.... long ago.

Seven things I’d love to do before I die.

1. Sing on stage. Record an album.
2. Find the one. And then....
3. Play the lead. At the end of the show, stand centre-stage when the crowd has left, look at the empty seats with appreciation and take a bow.
4. Travel the world.
5. Own a large home. Keep dogs, gizmos, expensive furniture and decor etc. Earn a lot and engage in charity.
6. Social Activism. Fight till I drop.
7. Be happy unconditionally for over 6 hours at a stretch.

Five things I will not do even if it kills me.

1. Let myself be forced into it.
2. Cheat someone.
3. Take from the needy or the less-privileged.
4. Enter into a profession that gives me nothing.
5. Let anyone take advantage of my worth.

Five things I do when I'm away from the public.

1. Sing.
2. Look into the mirror and wonder who's looking back at me.
3. Touch myself and wonder if I truly exist.
4. Groan.
5. Dance or sway to the words and the rhythm.

Five fave sentences/quotes.

1. Remember, Remember, the face of you. Surrender, surrender to the touch of you.
2. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players
3. I, too, will fade away.
4. I'll be back. Look out for me.
5. There's No Need To Argue anymore.

Five things I'll make you wish you didn't do if you did.

1. Betray
2. Be unreasonable
3. Oppress the weak
4. Hypocrisy
5. Pull the carpet from beneath another's feet, when he deserved


People to tag-
1. Harshita
2. Neelav
3. Vipul

Summer Sorrow

I truly wonder why "Summer of '69" is the anthem that it is. With all due respect, the composition is fabulous. The guitarring, I suppose, is superb!
But the words? They're so depressing.. A harbinger of the melancholic existence that awaits us and is inevitable.
It isn't just an ode to our younger years. For some, it serves as a reminder of a lifestyle that they would've wanted to live, even if only for a very short while, but couldn't. "Academics!!"
For the more fortunate who did live that summer of '69, a beautiful chapter of their lives that has ended.

Which of us led that normal life that absolutely normal life, none of which we'd want to change? Are we truly strong enough to let go of every unpleasant memory and consider our childhood well-lived, opportunities well taken and decisions well made?
More so, what lies ahead? Could it be as promising and inviting as the Summer of '69?

Did we truly spend a summer in a garage, fooling about with a six-string caring not for what lay ahead? Do we hold on, still, to those companions that we shared those moments with? Did we really ever think nothing would change?
What of those who walked away.... alone?

A lasting impact

Oh al right, agreed! It isn't polite to ignore those few individuals that visit your world. I cannot ignore you.

I haven't many humorous anecdotes to share, thus if you were in search for them, flutter away. Though I'm not exactly forcing myself to blog at present, I am making an effort.

The thing is, when you live in a hostel room, all that exists between one wall and another comprises 2 beds, 2 cupboards, 2 study tables (one of which is very messy, i.e., mine) and other little bits. The centrepiece is a wi-fi enabled lappietoppie. And when there is very little of other things to do on a lappietoppie, one logs on to Blogger and writes stuff and nonsense about one's tiresome modus vivendi. It's a very small world.
At home, all the things above reduce to one in measure along with a sister who hoards the internet connection at all hours of the day, thereby incapacitating Yours Truly to write to you all.
But today I have garnered the opportunity to acquiesce to your demands and shall comply.

As mentioned before, I have no outrageously uproarious events to relate, but a few less hilarious ones nonetheless.


1. The first occurred on my first day in Delhi. Scandalised by the weather conditions that I discovered upon stepping off the airplane, I vowed to discover an institution that would admit me during the day, allow me to loll about till evening when I could return home once the heat had subsided. Of course, the institution had to be severely air-conditioned.
One such inst. was the British Council Library. I discovered it as a viable option as it lay near the Metro track. Thus, I'd move from my air-conditioned house to an air-conditioned train, into an air-conditioned library, return to the air-conditioned train and back home when the weather was less exacerbating.
So I was returning from the library, with a brochure in my hand, walking towards the train when I chanced upon an old acquaintance from school ahead of me. This individual I had worked with in an event at school, and was not particularly fond of. I wouldn't have minded saying hello to him had he not been walking like a constipated chimpanzee, flirting aggressively with his companion.
As he was moving rather slow and I couldn't overtake him without being noticed, I crossed the road and began to approach the train from the other side.
And so I was trudging along when I happened to approach 3 gentlemen (approximately my age) who stood conveniently on my path. One looked right at me and I observed on his face, an expression of joy and jubilation, the sort one bears upon discovering an old friend.
"Dhruv!?!" he cried in joy. I smiled back, said hello and we spoke for 2-3 minutes, updating each other about where exactly it was that our lives had led us.
Eventually, I bade him goodbye, almost promising to meet him again. We didn't exchange numbers so I doubt he believed me.
As I walked away, I wondered if I had ever seen him before. His face was so refreshingly unfamiliar, I was truly puzzled. But since he managed to recognize me by name, I supposed he was not a total stranger.
Oh well, I suppose I touch people's lives such that many years after I have forgotten them, they still smile upon beholding my presence.

2. The second incident occurred two days ago. Having developed an interest in theatre over the past year, I agreed to attend a play with my father staged by the National School Of Drama. Though it was in hindi, I chose to risk it, and it was worth. The play titled Kafka - Ek Adhyay (meaning Kafka - A Chapter) was based on German writers Franz Kafka. The experience was entertaining owing to the German setting, costumes, short and awkward choreography and a brilliant portrayal of the lead actor's youngest sister Otla a lady whose name I don't quite recall. Her dialogue delivery and presence was so awe-inspiring that I was enamoured.
Caught in the enthusiasm of the experience, I was talked into attending another play 2 days later, an immensely popular musical titled "Ghansiram Kotwal." I'm sure the play lived upto all expectations. But owing to the Marathi-Hindi spoken for most of it, I did not understand a word.
I would've dismissed the 2 hours as wasted had it not been for a short moment that I shared.
It was any other dull scene, as incomprehensible as any other. On the stage were countless actors, one of whom was beloved Otla, who played minuscule parts in that drama, possibly owing to her inability to speak an archaic language. Having sung her lines, she stood in position, frozen. Possibly by chance, her gaze was directed towards me. Our eyes met. Mine were locked. And she smiled. A toothy smile.
Every time she appeared on stage after that, I observed her. She did not smile again.

Chapter 2

Hello Humans!
I present myself this evening at four minutes to midnight, not to share with you an uproarious tale, nor a horrific event but a dull rhetoric of who I am, what I want out of life and what I am up to these days.... except the bit about "Who I am" or "What I want out of life"

I am a ninteen year-ol....
Err, no wait.

Ah yes, I am presently in a position to wrap up with my end-semester examinations on the day after tomorrow, thereby earning one-fourth of my Engineering Degree.

Since the commencement of my exams, that I regarded with utmost gravity, I have completed reading "About A Boy" by Nick Hornby. The reason for this selection was that both the title and the author sounded resoundingly familiar to me, and I thus assumed that this title must have been a best-seller. My assumption was possibly incorrect but I, nonetheless, had a very good read.
I heard the book was adapted on the big screen, starring Hugh Grant, which annoys me because I feel that he's being type-casted. Thus, I hope never to end up watching the film.

Another title that I picked up yesterday was "The Curious Incident of the Dog in The Night-time" which you will notice was adapted on my previous blog title. That was because the title fit just fine.
The book is lovely. The narration is by a boy suffering from a form of autism. I wonder how the author (Mark Haddon) managed to interpret the thought process of an autistic.
If you have read the book, you will notice a slight resemblance between the style that the novel adopts and that of this blog entry. The effect is unintentional. It is simply a hangover, though hangovers usually don't occur till one is over with something and I've only completed half of the book.

I like TCIOTDITN because it leaves you with a good feeling. This is something Jayashree told me because I haven't finished the book yet.

I recently watched Amelie and The Color People and both of those movies left me with a good feeling, thus I know that I shall enjoy finishing this book.
Amelie is a brilliant film. I hope everyone gets to watch it in their lifetime. So is The Color Purple which is a controversial film directed by Steven Speilberg in 1985 starring Whoopie Goldberg and could be the most sensitive film he could have made.

That is all for now.
Good bye!

Dream

Percy Bysshe "A dream has a power to poison sleep."

I differ. "A dream poisons sleep."

The day concludes. We return home after physical, mental and emotional exhaustion. We yearn for rejuvenation of our faculties to face another day. We yearn for replenishment of our senses, for a few hours of mental solace. We yearn for sleep.

We shut our eyes. Events of the day that has elapsed plague our minds. We push them away. They persist. We seek aid to squeeze them out of our minds. A child seeks a lullaby, an adult seeks a song.

Slowly, we begin to drift. Our physical senses lose control, but don't leave us. The mind detaches itself from them, but only almost.

We drift into an Other world. A world not very different from the one in which we lay 'asleep', yet different. Everything here is out-of-place, or rather in a different place. We may not be ourselves. At least, not in every way.

In our dreams, too, we face challenges. We are faced with many tasks to be accomplished. Yet, we cannot pursue them. Yet, the mind has no control over our physical senses. It must observe. In moments of intensity, it tries hard to hint the other self that contols our being, but cannot power over it.

Often, we are seeking for something that we may or may not be able to find. If found, it doesn't vaguely resemble what we had sought all along.

There is no reason, no logic, no pattern.... but a vague connection with our past or person. Nothing can be questioned. Everything must be endured.

We follow our other self as he journeys through a world we've never seen in person before yet is we treat it as familiar.

Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits. Yet we attempt to decipher it all. Our effort is futile for its fruit is soon forgotten by even our own self. Yet the effort is made.

Hours go by in what seems like seconds. Time stands still in the Other world.

The Other world begins to fade. From the darkness, emerges our own in which mind controls the body.

Another day.

The mind is fatigued. Yet, we must rise. Our senses protest but there is no one to listen. Another day has begun and we must rise.

When that day has ended, there is no solace. We must return to the Other world, which is scarcely constant.

This cycle is vicious. The mind is helpless. It protests, but no one listens.

Nine Things..

that I associate with a Gust Of Cold Air..

1. A Walk on the mountains (Possibly a reminiscence of a Rickshaw Ride I took late into the evening in December '99 through Mussorrie. Most memorable.)
2. A windy autumn day
3. A fancy hotel room (Quite an amusing association, this.. Not only do I imagine myself in a fancy hotel room, I can almost smell the scent of the wooden cupboards, clean linen and air-freshener. And for a moment, I unwind. Most heavenly.)
4. Winter Rain (Surely the best time of the year, when that comes along. With the exception of, of course, a Foggy day)
5. A failed romance
6. A broken friendship
7. A New Life
8. The Titanic

and finally,

9. Winters (Duh)

DK's Box Office

In accordance with my nature of wanting to contradict all that elapses in my immediate surroundings, having roomed up with a movie buff, the number of flicks I sat through in the past four months was fairly limited. That unfortunate tragedy was compensated to a fair degree in the weeks that have elapsed since my return.
The following is a list of flicks that I saw, with my opinion, en bref

1. Garfield - Tail of 2 Kitties : Sweet. But frankly, I'd like to kick that cat once in a while.

2. Don : For most part of the movie, I was cursing myself to have allowed my folks to drag me into watching a Shah Rukh Khan flick. I've seen so many of his. Aren't all of them the same? Well, he jolly well seems to play the same character in each.
However, the synopsis was completely unpredictable and left an impact, making the flick worthwhile. As did the presence of Priyanka Chopra. And the music.
I forgave my parents and myself.

3. Dhoom 2 : On that front, I had no choice. I had no option for I was on more of a young-teenage-boy-sitting task. I was to take my 2 cousins for the flick, one of whom had seen it already and wanted to watch it again. Why? Because he's young and innocent and possibly believes that certain robbers specialise in falling from the sky, breaking into supposedly-highly-guarded train compartments wearing one of the most fascinating genus of face-masks that not only substitute the most impossible plastic surgeries but also, in fact, magically transform the voice of the bearer of the mask into that of a person of the opposite sex. Brilliant!
Aishwarya's performance was less-than-mediocre but better than her worst. Abhishek Bachhan, forgettable.
Hrithik was quite good indeed, but I believe he always is. Except when playing the lead opposite Kareena.

4. Funny Face : A 1957 musical starring Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire. It was my first absolutely delightful watch of this vacation. And one that I'd recommend to all. The surprise package of the film was Kay Thompson, one of the most accomplished people in Hollywood who hasn't appeared in anymore than 3 films as an actress. And indeed, she stole the thunder from right under the two main characters. A most fascinating character.

5. Umrao Jaan : The film is 3 and a half hours long with a trillion songs. It is best watched on DVD so that the songs can be skipped. No, the music isn't horrible but the film has simply an overdose of it. Edit away most of the songs and you get a lovely film, made with a lot of effort and definitely worth a watch. Ash is superbly brilliant. This could've been her big comeback and brought her laurels, but fate had other plans in store. I suppose she can expect more out of Provoked, to be released next month. Shabana.... well what can I say. She is supreme. The entire industry should bow down before her. She is, no doubt, the best actress I've ever known in this lifetime. One is almost convinced that she has been living her character all her life, she plays it with such ease and perfection.
Yes, the film is unending. But that is absolutely necessary if the story has to be told completely.

The film was magnificent with pathetic reception, no doubt due to the, what I believe, intellectually challenged indian audiences who insist on making as much use of their Top Floor while in a cinema as they do of their appendix.

6. Meet The Fockers : It didn't have me rolling on the floor with laughter as I would have expected it to. But it was worthwhile. If nothing else, it broke my stigma against Ben Stiller, him being one of the three actors that come to mind presently, that I cannot stand to look at (the other two being Brad Arm-Pitt and whatshisname). So I suppose he's off my list. I'll celebrate by watching Meet The Parents next.

7. Breakfast At Tiffany's : Another Audrey Hepburn classic saw her in yet a new and refreshing character altogether from what she had played before. George Peppard played the male lead with sophistication and style. The film was a great flick though I still can't see much of a connection between the story and the title.
Audrey has indeed starred opposite the most suave men in hollywood, such as George Peppard and Gregory Peck in 'Roman Holiday.' They are possibly the only American men I would want to emulate.

8. Bhagam Bhag : To all those who found this film horrible or anything in that family of adjectives, I ask you a few simple questions :-
a. When you purchased your ticket for this particular film, were you or were you not hoping to catch a good thriller? You weren't? I supposed not.
b. In continuation with the previous question, were you or were you not hoping it would be a good comedy? You were? Why, that would make you a majority!
c. All through the film, did you keep a straight face and not let the remotest giggle escape your lips?
Those who answer in affirmative, I would like to remind that it is futile to tell lies on matters such as these.
To those who answer in negative, which should now comprise all those reading, I say "Then the movie succeeded in its attempt to send forth a few laughs.

Now I know good comedy when it comes my way. Hera Pheri was good comedy. Phir Hera Pheri was good comedy.
Masti was lame in its attempt to incorporate comedy of a good nature. As was Golmaal.
Bhagam Bhag, in my opinion, would qualify in the former genre of the above two, and not the latter. My word is final.

I wholeheartedly enjoyed the flick.
The USP of the film was Govinda. No, not his brilliant portrayal of his part but the fact that his role was limited. I despise Govinda and had the lowest expectations of the flick of which he was a part. But lord, or rather, Priyadarshi has other plans in store.

9. I'll Always Know What You Did Last Summer : The third in the series of horror flicks and hopefully the last should never have been made with its horrid story line and pathetic actors resulting in horrible output.
Stay AWAY from this film.

Well, I suppose that's all that I can recall having watched, so Ta ta!