Oh Shit, not again!

It is not often that one comes across a masterful piece of literature. Few people have the courage to be different and defy convention. Mandar Kokate does just that. From his unconventional use of language (he experiments with grammar and spelling - not to every one's taste) to his description and depiction of women (women are not good with money and require male supervision - perhaps Kokate believes that the global meltdown was caused due to the emancipation of women - he knows he is entitled to his opinion and expresses it) to North Indians (vague reference about a paan waalah), Kokate is fearless. Here is somebody who does not believe in being a politically correct pansy. Add to this a lyricism in the novel, so absent in the works of other popular young authors like Chetan Bhagat, '"Ting tong" the bell buzzed"'. Of this cloth are great artists cut.

All this I could conclude after reading only twenty pages of this masterwork - I do not own a copy, and I cannot spare the Rs. 150 to buy this truly unparalleled book.

I hope a genius like Kanti Shah or KRK can translate this to celluloid. I doubt if any one else can do justice to it.

Overall, this book is not for every one, it is in parts offensive, rude and crude and revels in it. Two classes of people may enjoy it - true geniuses like the author who "get" the book and lesser mortals like me: unjealous appreciators of true art.

Train to Bangaluru

My first long distance (over 7 hours) train journey was a fascinating experience. On 19th of December, 2009, at around 10.00 pm, we left for Bangaluru from Mumbai LTT, for a 23 hour train journey through some of the most dramatic landscape that I have ever seen. As students, broke, and hoping for travel reimbursement, we decided to travel 2nd class ordinary, on a passenger train taking the longest route between the two cities (the Coimbatore Express).

The journey as such was uneventful, but contained a wide array of people from all walks of life. As the train left the station from Mumbai, few people were in our compartment, and no one bothered to sit in their assigned seats. Everyone was scattered comfortably all around. There were a bunch of slimy looking people across the aisle, playing cards and talking loudly, and behind us, on the topmost berth, was a man ready to sleep, lying down, all snuggled in, with his tape recorder/mp3 player blaring some beautiful Mohd. Rafi songs. I couldn't help but hum along, "yeh chand sa roshan chehra...".

As we approached Pune, people got off (the slimy group among them), and our neighbours for the rest of the journey, a young couple, saccharinely in love, boarded the train. The windows by now had been forced shut by the cops for there was unrest in Andhra Pradesh due the Telanagna thingy, and there had always been a gang of robbing thugs in the whereabouts (so a friend told me), thus we had a couple of cops in our compartment till light dawned and the chai, coffee and breakfast wallahs came to sell their wares around 6.30 am, when people started waking to utilize the facilities. The toilets on the train were surprisingly usable, better than most public toilets one can find in Mumbai, and definitely superior to the one found in the G7 multiplex.

I hadn't slept much (perhaps 3 hours at most), mainly out of excitement, but sleep literally flew away after I saw a cockroach trying to find shelter in a sleeping friend's hair. The lone mouse in the compartment (active only after 7.30 pm till 6.30 am), wasn't much of a bother.

As I had not slept much, I managed to occupy the window seat before anyone else in our group could, and looked out of the window for most of the day. I saw the soil get redder, the grass greener, and the flowers obtain a deeper vibrancy. The transition was not dramatic, but was perceptible. Then came the dramatic rock formations along the river Krishna, very beautiful indeed, looking like old abandoned forts created by Nature herself.

Lunch was a methi thepla with aachaar for me. Every one had brought packed lunches, and our neighbours had it expertly packed and segregated according to meal and wrapped with newspaper and string. It consisted mainly of a heap of rice, which the couple fed each other.

After the obligatory games of Antakshri, we had our dinner, and waited for our destination.

Bangaluru is a horrible city for a tourist who is alone, broke and doesn't know the local language. The public transport system is rubbish and disorganised, so it takes a person 2 hours to reach a place that he can within 30 minutes, thus wasting the day in travel. Alternately, he can travel by autorickshaws (the option I had to reluctantly choose). These are exorbitant, and like to charge extra money (at least Rs. 20) on longer (over 5 minutes) journeys. So, one ends up spending around Rs. 500 just on traveling in one day. In Mumbai, you can do it in Rs. 50. The weather was pretty pleasant.

The train journey however, was not unpleasant. May be more fun travelling first class though.

Paa is Pathetic

Heard all the hype about Paa, and had the misfortune to watch it. Several reasons why I found it nauseating:

1. The beginning is slow and boring
2. There is an India TV/Times Now/Aaj Tak style expose on DD. Yes DD!
3. There is a massive tirade against the media, where the the protagonist actually says "CURB FREE SPEECH", "POLITICIANS INNOCENT: MALIGNED BY MEDIA", "IN POLITBURO PLEASE TRUST"
4. Then there is an "ultra cool" Principal. Please give me Boman Irani in Mein Hoon Na any day. At least he is hamming on purpose.
5. Kids actually listen to and cheer speeches
6. An hour and a quarter later Auro isn't dead, (he was so close!) and you desperately want him to conk off.
7. Cheesy dialogues.
8. The concept was lifted from Jack, a much better movie, and comparisons (deliberately) made with Benjamin Button. Oh we don't copy (recent) films.
9. Left one hour twenty two minutes after it started.

I know why people recommend this film: I went through the torture of watching it, so should everyone else. I, however am a humanitarian, and cannot see suffering, so I'll tell you the truth: It is BAD BAD BAD.

३री कक्शा की kavitaa मेरे मन की बातों को इतनी अच्छी तरहां से कह रही है.

सूरज तपता, धरती जलती,
गरम हवा जोरों से चलती,
तन से बहुत पसीना बहता,
हाथ सभी के पंखा रहता.

आ रे बादल, काले बादल,
गर्मी दूर भगा रे बादल,
रिम झिम बूंदे बरसा बादल,
झाम झाम पानी बरसा बादल।

लगता नही की वर्षा की कोई आशंका है। INSAT photos are tres depressing: http://www.imd.gov.in/section/satmet/dynamic/insatsector-irc.htm

The Great Indian Middle Class

To be a part of the Great Indian Middle Class is akin to being trapped in an air-tight container. It is suffocating, irritating, and there is no way anything interesting can leak in. In this suburban “comfort”, one is expected to stay, and one’s “progress” along a standard middle-class curve is plotted. Deviation is naturally frowned upon, and one’s success is evaluated on the basis of this ideal graph, which in effect is this:

Over 90% in school (preferably a topper) – taking science in 12th, and 90% again – Entering a professional college (Medicine or Engineering) – MBA if an engineer – a job in a bank – counting your pay of at least 1 lakh rupees a month.

Obviously everyone cannot achieve such wonderful results, hence the above remains an ideal guideline, meant for every middle class child to strive for - natural interests and aptitude be damned! This is what my neighbor’s kid/colleague’s kid/insert any acquaintance’s kid is doing, and hence my child must do the same.

“Hobby classes” rarely reflect the student’s interest, they reflect what the student’s parents think will boost the poor kid’s CV. Anyone with an ounce of imagination or interest in deviating from these strict guidelines is ridiculed, perhaps even pitied for being stupid and/or short sighted.

I have thus come to the conclusion that the Great Indian Middle Class is composed, for most part of philistines. Exceptionally practical people, but with no will to explore, no desire to experience, too scared to venture out and try the unknown, afraid of failing, of becoming a laughing stock, of dying poor. But what is worse, is that their children are also trained to be the same, another generation of cowards, of sissies wanting to stay at home with safe jobs and decent pay packets and being compared to their neighbors. They will never take risks and will learn nothing of life. They will die naïve.

Where is the fun in that?

"तूफानों की ओर घुमा दो नाविक निज पतवार"

Paradise Lost

I was watching bits of Kashmir ki Kali today. The beauty of the Srinagar valley even on an ancient fourteen inch Onida TV was breathtaking. Its such a pity that the place has been over run by terrorists. Taarif karoon kya uski jisne tujhe banaya?

Can't people just live and let live?

:C
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"How many times must cannon balls fly,
Before they're for ever banned?"

Ans: Till we all are dead.

Can schizophrenia be self-induced?

As I was walking back from the station today, I found myself mumbling to myself. This started a train of thought. I wondered if I could separate two distinct “R2B2” personalities, a sort of Jekyll and Hyde, and make them both converse with each other. This thought came suddenly, and I felt that I could do so, especially since my personal philosophy (like I assume most other peoples’) is complex, and aspects of it keep evolving. By this I mean that I can have two differing points of view on a certain matter, each becoming my primary point of view with changing moods and situations. As different fronts of my personality can be controlled by my mood, if I separate my thoughts that depend on my mood, would it be possible to come up with a separate person? Actually, this isn’t exactly what I was thinking, but to explain it is difficult and this is the closest I can get to right now.

Getting back to the point, I tried to separate two bits of my personality: first, what I call my ambitious driven side, and the second, laid-back, lazy, philosophical side. I then simulated a conversation between the two, which was going very well until the point I found myself getting some vague feedbacks about myself. A sort of self-discovery. At this point I got a little unnerved, especially since I found that it was possible for me to separate two aspects of my personality, which started diverging as the “conversation” went on. I thank God (or whatever powers may exist) that there was a third “rational observer” personality too¹. I decided to stop at that point because I got scared. I seriously thought that I could go mad. I did not want to delve into something about which I barely knew anything. How our minds work, how thoughts evolve may be the greatest enigmas today, and though I would love to know how they work, I am not willing to subject myself to another fright like that. But it did make me wonder: could schizophrenia be self-induced?

¹I’m pretty sure that I could have done away with the “rational observer” which would have probably revealed better results, but I did not want to do away with my safety net.