Facebook and Social Networking - Whose watching?

Just this other day , i was spending time with a friend , bringing in her birthday. The usual trend to "bring in" a birthday is to wait around till midnight of the night before the actual B-day... So, at around 11ish Pm , we all just sat around having a couple of drinks trying to stay up long enough to "bring it in".

Just around then was when little Miss Birthday girl got all excited about who all would have already wished her on her Facebook profile page! I mean, come on! What about the couple of her friends who actually waited around to be "present" with her as opposed to the hundred others on her friends list who just wished her - online? With one singular : Happy Birthday phrase!

But, to be honest is to accept the fact & reality that these days, the number of people wishing you on your social networking site's profile page plays a far more dearer role probably than the few friends who actually take the time to make you feel special by being around you on a special occasion.

Not only birthdays, these days, everything is public and on a profile page. Your anniversary. Your Husband's birthday, The day your dog was brought home, everything.
Life as we know it, is a profile page on a networking site.

The truth is, even if we reach the limit of a 1000+ "friends" or "connections" on any of these social network sites, in real life, hardly more than a few matter or care or bother.

But, humans , or all things living, have the tendency and the "want" to share their life with people even if some claim that they dont like the "attention". We are all attention seekers and we dont usually care about giving out as much attention as we would rather have...

Social beings = Human. Social Networking sites = Human's Life/Style.

I don't over-use my social site access. But, i dont under-use it either. It's got it's plus points, for instance, it's a great way to stay in touch with people overseas. Or people in other cities of the same country, It's also a nice way of knowing what the other people you know in general are doing professionally (and personally)..

Some people do get addicted to social networking. Some, have their moods and whims based on what's going on around their pages...
It's a funny thing to observe in people actually. But it's also a great feeling to see and observe how the world connects as one, or CAN connect as one on these sites.

Friends and Friends of Friends and Families and their Relatives. One can usually trace someone's entire social and non-social life through these sites.

Do we like to live life as an open book?
Most of us do. If we didn't, there really would'nt have been an IT boom at all...

Needless to say, little Miss Birthday girl spent the next few hours giving out generous "thank you's" to all the people who had wished her online.

Yes, at the end of it, it was the number of people who wished her that mattered most!

Probably just like you.

Or me.

Billing per second on mobile usage

As an everyday working girl, i usually and mostly and mainly communicate and live life via the magic of wireless devices: of which: my laptop and mobile phone play the lead roles.

Of course, the constant mantra of "being on the move" which in today's times translate into, "being in touch while on the move" add to the world's obsession with the latest telecom gadgets. Needless to say, with the obsession comes the pros and cons and also the - Bills.

The basic and most important rule of commerce is , "time is money". The invention of mobile technology and the constant increase in usage of the same match this age-old rule, with no bounds. As on a day like today, i can openly ""boast"" of how my work has made me a slave to technology. With my work mobile and personal mobile and my work laptop and personal laptop, i basically habitate in the new modern day's version of the 4 walls of a house. Yes, i can openly say that i live within these 4 gadgets, as does, any of my other counterparts in a busy metro.

I let my already wild imagination run wilder a few days ago...

I was in cab, passing a busy street & i kind of let my eyes wander around to see what was around me. My plain brown eyes fell upon an advert by Tata Docomo which publicized proudly their new gimmick in the world of telecom - Mobile phone usage billing per second.

Of course, majority of my peers and counterparts and enemies , foes and friends would be THRILLED to have this new theme in mobile phone billing. Any why not? Who would'nt want to save their bucks in any way possible?

Now, one of the hidden rules of commerce also doesnt let competition get in the way of retaining clients.
Which basically would mean that, Tata's new theme would soon be introduced by other mobile phone service providers, too! And why not? Who would want to loose their clients just like that to any other service provider?

That day, the day that was a few days ago... as i read the ad and thought about the chain reaction that would kick start thanks to Tata's head of product innovation using his brain, i wondered and imagined what the new world with the new 4 walls would turn into, in a few months , maybe just a meagre years from now.

I imagined a girl called "Moo" and a boy called "Doo", about 18 years of age, being in love. I imagined Moo and Doo talking endlessly on their mobile phones, endless meaning, non-stop to the core, day in and day out. And, why not? If they are in love and they get charged by their mobile phone service providers PER SECOND, why shouldnt they do the "coocheee coo" a normal couple in love is subjected to, over the phone?
I mean, there's nothing wrong with it and well, "Doo" will land up saving alot of money this way , anyway.

I imagined, "Moo" and "Doo" hardly meeting in person because it was cheaper and quicker to talk on their mobiles for hours on end.

I imagined tomorrow's couples not experiencing the lovely simplicity and natural magic of dates, watching movies together, going on a boat ride, together.
I imagined no long drives with the music playing and no road trips and no walking along the sea shore hand in hand.

And then, I looked at the "mobile billing per second" ad and thought of when my own service provider would add this theme too! And i thought of how i would probably waste more of my living hours, being on the phone.

My work cell phone rang at exactly the precise moment as did my own personal cell phone then. I looked at the 2 cell phones and started imagining a world where cell phones were actually living creatures.

I thought of how "Moo" and "Doo" could probably, in tomorrow's world, very well be 2 cell phones in love.

350 crore statue by the sea: Hail Shivaji!

Mumbai, 10-Sept-09:

It's been in the news for the last few recent months now. News about our local politicians being keen, very keen, mighty keen on building a 350 crore rupee statue by the sea off Mumbai. This staue of "Shivaji" (A famed Maratha king of the old days) is to follow the basic idea and pose, maybe poise of the renowned Statue of Liberty off the sea of New York City.

Don't our politicians and "leaders" think before acting? While India as a whole is still a developing country, needless to say, even major cities of the country like Mumbai lack basic good support systems & infrastructure to make life, on the whole, decent. Crowded trains. Over stuffed buses. Government staff on strike. Badly shaped taxis. Crimes. Pollution. Pot-holed and collapsing roads. Don't these "problems" need attention by our politician? No, but, they'd rather use public taxes (that includes some of my money too) to build a statue. And not just any other statue. A state of the art one. In fact, a statue that has a museum around it, library and restaurants too. All for 350 crore. Are they kidding?
It's always been known that our politicians, since the start, have wanted to match Mumbai city to international standards, however, what these unthinking people don't understand is that: matching Mumbai to an international standard and making it a "world class" city, would be an aim not so far-off if they only opened their eyes and targeted "REAL" issues.
Our sea: is dirty. It's filthy and grey.
Our trains, look like they'd fall apart anytime.
Our taxis and taxi drivers don't know the meaning of being a taxi driver that drives a taxi.
The city is over-crowded.
The buses need more routes.
The roads need better building.
The routes need to be re-developed.
There isn't any place to live. People live on the street.
The buildings here seem to collapse just suddenly.
The corruption level, rises every minute.
There's too much black money doing the rounds and no real work being done anywhere.
Yet, we want to build a statue in memory of someone who would would probably hate the present Mumbai in Maharashtra had he been alive.
Aren't there other ways to pay tribute to someone? Rather, couldn't our "leaders" fix the real problems Mumbai city residents face and then think of raising a statue?

It's simply unbelievable how our leaders seem to budget and think. It's remarkable how life just moves in this country with no real decent level of living or breathing. It's too large a problem to just slide by. But, when the people who seem to be at the top don't think, it's the rest of the masses that not only suffer, they live,barely living.

Vishal Dadlani, a well-known music composer started a petition against this idea of the statue. How much could it help though? Would anyone really listen?

Mumbai's "leaders" will go on doing what clearly benefits no real citizen. And why?

The Clutch

Fashion, news on fashion, latest trends, latest fashion accessories are what majority of the world lives by. Although i am officially part of the world, i don't think i'm a slave to this majority. I'm a banker, i tend to disect and look for things, with "value". With good "material". I must say, i do have a good fashion sense & this piece of prose by me is my first write-up on anything fashion-oriented. I just decided to traverse into an aspect of ponderings that iv'e never written about.
At 23 years and 10 months, fashion plays an important but not exclusive role in my life. I do not strictly follow trends, i mix & match what i like and what would look good and then i decide to wear or carry forward an attire. Simply said.
One of this years "latest trends" was the innocent "CLUTCH" bag. Bag? Well, ideally, it's an accessory formed to help one carry knick knacks in. So, it classifies as a bag for sure. It's called a "CLUTCH" simply because one can only carry it by "clutching" it. You may have seen us women carrying this CLUTCH around these past months. It looks like a rectangular shaped envelope type thing with a zip or clasp at the top. It comes in various colors and sizes. It was pictured in the hands of almost every young actress / wana be actress / retired actress this year, at least once.
I told you, i don't necessarily "follow" fashion's trends. I never intentionally went out and bought myself a Clutch bag. I happened to be given this accessory, as a gift. Good idea for a gift. But bad idea of a bag is what and how i'd sum up the Clutch. As in, a bag was meant to hold your belongings together, right? Well, no clutch seems to be able to or want to do that. They prefer just hanging around in their bearers palms, looking glossy and shiny in their specially made and coordinated color & shine. That's all. It could pass off as "a good looking" accessory to your outfit, it could pass of as a "pretty little bag" if needed. But, if you really had to step out for a party (formal or wild night out, either one), i don't believe for one single second that it would or could hold in all that you would need to carry with you. Let's get to the basics, women could'nt step out for a soiree empty handed. They have their basic needs and carry ons. These needs mostly include: 1) Own cell phone 2) Keys (car and,or house) 3) some basic make-up items 4)Tissue paper (maybe, maybe not)5)Money/Wallet/Card. Depending on individual minds, these needs could diversify, or simplify.
However, the Clutch, clutches not much of these items, it could perhaps hold you keys and phone whilst you find other interesting ways to carry the rest of your things with you. So, what was the point of the clutch again? Ah, yes, it's the new in fashion trends of course.
I took my newly gifted Clutch out with me the other night. It was a nice yellowish shiny piece of bag. Before leaving, i tried to pack in all that i'd need for the night out. I managed to stuff in my already miniature sized black wallet. My phone did'nt fit (the clasp of the clutch would'nt close if the phone was in, never mind. I decided to hold onto the phone in my other hand. Ideally, that was'nt necessarily a good idea. Holding onto a clutch in one hand and your phone in the other whilst trying to dance & enjoy yourself at a pub, is plain silly. Anyway, my eye pencil managed to fit into little miss yellow and so did some tissue. Keys... if i pushed and closed the clasp fast enough, then yes, it fit. Aaa, there. All done. All set, i stepped out, trying to flaunt the uncomfortable clutch. Not a good idea. Everytime i opened it (to remove or use anything), it would take a considerable amount of effort (and time)to get it to close again. That's cause, ideally, all that should have been put inside should have been some money, 1 key and that's all. No good.
This CLUTCH concept clearly, only works as an accessory. Most accessories are anyway silly and mindless jamble. So, it doesnt surprise me that there is nothing intelligent about a Clutch. Of course, people do fan their clutches. They collect them, pamper them, color coordinate them, maybe even make families of them. Or football teams. Love for anything in the world, be it fashion, cinema, music is lovely really.
The clutch, to me, is nothing. I would'nt use one again unless all my other real bags broke. I would'nt buy one. But if i got another one gifted to me, i'd keep it. In the corner, to look at and laugh it.

She-Wolf by Shakira

AAOOOO!
With this blog entry, i will be, simply, writing about a relatively new song by Shakira. Shakira firstly, is a colombian singer/dancer and wanna-be belly dancing act. And i would safely say that she's pretty good at the last one! Probably very good.
She professionally is known as a singer though and i have been coming across her tracks occasionally over the last couple of years. Some of her work, her songs, are decently good. In these, some of the lyrics in the songs are the sing-along kinds,

I'm not her "fan" and could never be designated as one. I listen to her music, if it happens to be playing. But i don't admire or like her in anyway.
Another point on her music is that, the beats are greatly influenced by belly dance music, probably so she can move to the beats that she's actually good at whilst trying to sell her music to the world. When it comes to her voice though: it's pretty ok. Nothing of the voice that i would or could admire anything about.
But yes, as is true and common amongst most music artists these days, she does exude a large sense of sexual ease in her videos. In that, she tries hard to be sexy-like.

I came across another of her songs just recently: She-wolf. If you have chanced upon the video, i don't know what you'd think about it, but i know what i feel about it.
Firstly it's a music video with not that much good music in it. In the sense, the lyrics & beats aren't great or good or nice. But, you ARE certainly free to have another opinion about it! When it comes to the portrayal of the song via it's video: Shakira has , like she always does, moved every single part of her human body in the aim of trying to make it as sexy and sexual to the audience in general.
But, if you were to look into the lyrics of the song, it's more of a woman's song to her man. A song wherein she wants to pass on a "real" point that's getting to her and eating her up. How does a girl moving her body like as though she's sexually turned on really pass on the meaning of the words of this song...? What happened to making good music videos or for that matter good music in the first place?
Of course, in this video, Shakira has conveniently tried to portray a she-wolf and has dressed somewhat like a wana-be lady, in a costume i dont understand, with large nails and expressions depecting a wolf. However, in some scenes, she wears a complete see- through outfit and moves in her "special-Shakira" way (this is not the belly-dance way). Her body moves in an obscene and cheap manner through this video, but, people at large i guess tend to appreciate that these days! However, i stick to the point about the video not matching the words of the song, rather meaning of the song. The point of the song gets lost amidst the wolf-acts and moves and sexual portrayal. The song is named She-Wolf and she enacts a she-wolf. But, what about the rest of the song.. what happened to that?

Anyhow, hats off to her, to be able to and want to move and sink and rise and fall with music she creates. I dont like her in this video.. although the song is just about OK. Maybe at some point in every woman's life, she would want to sing a song like this to her man. Just maybe.

Enjoy the music.

Why Rakhi Sawant's reality show on choosing a groom to marry was the 2nd most watched show on Indian Television

And here we have Rakhi Sawant doing it again.

Who is she really? Not a star kid. Not a heroin of any greatly acclaimed movie & not even an award winning actress. Neither an economist or academician. But still, a celebrity of sorts.

Rakhi Sawant was more of an item girl, the one who danced and gyrated to hindi music and maybe sometimes english too. She spoke and still speaks with a marathi based english accent, wears lots of make up and speaks her mind, freely.
She wasn't loved or adored by the media or fellow "actresses" alike.
However, her reality show in which she was to choose a groom amongst a prospective few turned out to be the 2nd most-watched tv series during the months of June/July '09 in India.
Why? No one even bothered to pay attention to the ramblings of this unknown before.
Well, the answer as to why she catapulted into a household name with fame is probably simple.
Marriage and a wedding and planning a wedding and having one in any family in typical India is not just a big thing, it's maybe,perhaps; the most-important scene a family "must" go through. Indian love weddings, are maybe even a tad bit obsessed with the concept of one.
One would have a father of a daughter start saving for his daughter's wedding from the time she was born!
However, in Rakhi Sawant's case & show, it was the dream of a girl, any girl , being shown live on real time TV.
As in, every girl, (it's quite a known fact), dreams of that perfect man, that perfect wedding, that perfect feeling of finally feeling like a well-loved princess.
Every girl, will open up to a fairy tale romance and whispered sweet nothings.

Cup the 2 points of this being any girl's dream + India being a country that loves weddings and marriages and you can somehow figure as to how & why the country gladly watched and paid "great" attention to her while she went through the series and spent time with each prospective groom before finally picking her Mr. Right.

Not only did the masses at large watch the show. They debated. Debated one prospective groom from the next. Debated about who Rakhi should and shouldn't choose and would and wouldn't choose.

The country gladly & unconsciously supported this girl's right to have a good match, her right to the near-perfect happy ending she so hoped & wished for, and morever, deserved.

Everyone deserves a chance at love.

On Sunday (August 2nd 2009), Rakhi Sawant, on live TV, in front of millions of indian viewers, smartly posed and chose who she thought best would fit into her Mr. Right concept. Eelesh, an NRI. I haven't researched on who he is and what he does for a living, i'd leave that alone, for now. This article is for Rakhi and her courage.
I don't and never did specifically admire her. Yes, she MAY be a tad bit pretty under all the make up she wears. Yes, agreed, she's just like another other girl out in the world looking for the same things you and i are. But, admiring someone takes alot more.
What i do know is that, according to me, a meagre writer, she's boldly and publicly hoped for a good life and has involved, unknowingly, every single one of us in her endeavour. She has, unknowingly MADE us care, MADE us watch and MADE us feel.

I would end this write-up by saying, her show has resulted in (most-probably) many young girls hoping that they too could, once, in some lifetime or some near day in their future, have a show wherein they starred with the aim of choosing the Right Prince for their fairy-tale journey.

p.s: I'm not one of them, i'm the by-stander who watches from a corner and writes about it all.

Flamboyante

I went for dinner to a restaurant the other day named Flamboyante (in Mumbai).

I live in the south of the city, i work somewhere in the south of the city too and i usually tend to choose places in & around the south to wine and dine within. No, that does surely not make me a pro on south-Mumbai city life, but it does give me the right to talk about goods and bads none the less!

Flamboyante, is a sweetly nestled asian/indian cuisine restaurant, rightly placed on the ground floors of one of the courtyards of the World Trade Center in Mumbai.

The first time i landed up dining there was probably in the middle of last year i.e. year:2008.
The ambience of the place was what drew me to it. It was one of the few open-air dining places in Mumbai, and it made me feel like as if i was sitting in one of those sweet open-air cafe's on a street in Paris.
I do believe that in order to review a place (eatery joint / lodging joint); one must visit the place a couple of times more than once. You can't have a good review or come out with a decently justified review with one visit. It's not right, it's not possible. It takes a series of experiences and visits to really understand, gauge & finally "feel" what the place is all about.
I've been to Flamboyante a few times more than once.
The asian food menu has a good mix to it. Mumbai boasts of alot of chineses and thai cuisine themed restos, but, an asian grill/bar is different and could work toward giving a guest a fair share of something new, something nice.
Flamboyante's Indian food menu is plentiful too; they offer the most famous north indian varieties of food. Their indian food menu, is quite entertainingly delicious, their chicken gravies of the indian variety have just the right mix of spice and flavor; where you won't feel too heavy after eating it.

However, the drawback that loomed out at me largely probably the 3rd or 4th time that i visited the place was in the service rather level or lack of service given.
Their staff aren't too friendly and helpful and further more, although the food offered is pretty yummy to eat, when served, they don't seem to care much about presentation of the dish.

The last and most recent time i visited Flamboyante, i found my indian chicken dish served on the table with the bowl overflowing. The gravy, the part that had probably dripped down, hadn't even been wiped clean by the server.
I'm not picky and choosy and didnt send it back, however, the writer in me decided to plainly take a picture of the "crime".

If you run a service joint, (restaurant / pub / boutique etc), you have to cater to a near 100% level of perfect service and after-service. Presentation of staff / of service is a key note and criteria that is often ignored by service oriented companies.

To sum it all up; a visit or 2 to Flamboyante is probably a good idea. The food is tasty. The ambience, pleasant.

Liftmen: Men who don't really lift.

So here's a thought. Another thought.
The concept of the liftman or liftmen.

When you have lived in one place for too long, you start reading into the little things around you. You start thinking and pondering and questioning and wondering.

Not like i've been in one place for forever. I have moved around here and there and everywhere.

But anyway, in this place, in this country, there exists the concept of the liftman. He (and it will always be a "he", you wont ever find a liftwoman) is the one who sits in the lift/elevator of a residential or commercial building and he is the one who is the nominal in-charge of the lift. Meaning that, you cant or shouldn't press the button to the floor you would like to reach, you have to tell him where your destination in that building is. His job is to press the button and take you there.

What's funny about this concept is, is that it's actually considered a job. Well anyway, India is a country of masses, many many many masses, and it's probably perhaps maybe a good thing that we have jobs like this to cater to everyone's possibility of being employed.

What's also funny is that, even if a lift is just about the size of an aeroplane's toilet, the liftman shall and always will stand around guarding his right to the lift and pressing the buttons for you.

What's funny is that, from morning to evening, he sits there, waiting for you and me to drop by and tell him which floor we would like to go to and then he will press the button and lift you up and come back down. His office is the lift. He sits there. Sometimes eats there. I'm sure he doesn't shower there but who knows, with the development of technology maybe one day he will land up doing just that. That is, if he does shower ever at all. Yes, it's true, sometimes, due to the claustrophobic nature of indian lifts, they kind of emit a strange smell. I'm not confirming that this is due to our friend the lift man. But...it's always a possibility.

Sometimes these liftmen are friendly and could throw you a smile in greeting. But most times, they tend to look through you (as is common in India anyway since we're all strangers and were told not to ever talk to strangers here). They will sometimes help you if your new to "their" building and lift and try to ease your unease at finding your destination and floor. But, usually, if you don't know your way around in a building, even if it's your first time, you're better off if you just figure it out or try google earth! Cause, well, sometimes liftmen can throw you these strange glances when you ask them a question and it leaves you feeling a tad bit like a silly human.

There's this one building i frequent often. It has 4 lifts. Each lift has 2 liftmen. And they work in shifts. Now that's funny enough. Noting that their working day is a routine day job, they yet have shifts for handling their assigned lift! It's actually quite amazing and more amusing. Fortunately, the lifts in this frequented building are not the size of an aeroplane's toilet but, the liftmen's attitude are. These lift men think they own the lifts, they have this insatiable urge to package as many people as they possibly can into the elevator and make us feel like sardine cans. With no air. Claustrophobia could have originated because of this! Maybe it did!

This lift i speak of and it's liftmen should be experienced by one and all. They're so deep into their job of parcelling us all off together, it leaves us wondering what the point of having 4 lifts in total really is. Use the other 3 lifts, god damit, and give us some air to breathe!!! Aaaaa! The nuances of crowds.

At some point through this lift raising scenario, i thought of using the stairs. Although my destined floor was one of the upper most floors <13th to be precise>, i yet thought of the stairs as the GREAT escape because it could beat the stuffed up effect of being stuck in the middle of 12000 (it always seems like 12000 people in that lift) people who i didn't know, definitely didn't like and surely would never want to know. I'm sure all us lift "buddies" felt the same way about each other.

Another option i came up with was to start arriving at strange hours (very very early) and leave (very very late) so that i wouldn't need to deal with the tragedy of an overly crowded lift during the "normal" hours. But alas, i soon realised that the lifts don't start working until the liftmen are there. And true to their government employee nature, they would never, NEVER dream of starting/ "opening" their office is earlier than usual or anything of the sort.

And no, a non-lift man is not allowed to start the elevators. Cause they apparently have these keys to turn it off and on!!! Yes, yes, it's a treasure the lift actually , apparently , at least for the caretakers of the building. They need KEYS!

So well anyway. The concept of the liftman. Strange when found in literally, maybe and truly almost all residential and commercial buildings in India.
I've travelled around. I've had the fairness of using elevators the world over without the "help" and "assistance" of a lift man. It's been a great, a marvellous feeling in fact, to be able to to do that.

Back here though, i'm not allowed to. Cause i'm not the liftman.

I wonder sometimes what their real use is. Doesn't it get boring to go up and come back down like a million times a day, using the same route! And the same lift! Doesn't it get gratifyingly boring!!!! I would love to ask them sometime, but i'd rather not, well at least till i find a seemingly friendly one someday! I also wonder if we need liftmen. Are we that incapable of using lifts on our own? Are we that..what do they call it ... dumb? That we need liftmen!!!?!

But anyhow, the concept of the liftmen is well adopted here. Of course, you find liftmen in other places too, but not in the same scope of work or way. It's very different elsewhere.
It's more like a national need to use liftmen here. One wont not find one wherever one goes.

Superamazing would be, me getting my own lift from now on. yeah, i dropped the idea of a fancy car or bike for a lift cause, well, you know, well, the crowds, the nonsense related to being tightly packed in, squeezed in is not nice. At all.

Hmmm, maybe i can make me one of those portable elevators.... now that's fancy.

Bride wars / Crossing Over

Bride Wars:

New hollywood chick-flick! I only bought home the dvd to watch cause i like Kate Hudson and Anne Hathaway cause of their decently good acting skills and having them in a movie together made it a must-buy for me, personally.

A saturday afternoon with a movie like this is a well spent day.
Not that the movie was superb or anything, just that, it was a relaxed afternoon watch. One of the kinds wherein you could just let go of the steam of the work week and sit back and relax. The movie is a relaxation! Good point 1!

Story line wise: fairly better than an average ok. The story is about 2 best friends or bff's who accidentally have their weddings on the same day. Of course, any girl would know, you cannot share your wedding day with even your "bestest" of friends and so the story plays out about how the girls start their hidden bitchiness among each other and play fabulously mean pranks on one another till the end. A girly girl would probably understand the depth of the meanness felt in each scene thereafter. It's an unspoken myth; cheese a girl off, even if it's your best friend , and you're doomed till you're brought down or someone says sorry.
They do make up, of course, it's a movie, they have to. This is one of the movies wherein the ending is quite a smile creator. It actually made me wonder if there would be a sequel to this movie...especially since the movie ends with the best friends telling each other that their unborn babies are scheduled to be born on the same day! So well, maybe, perhaps, there could be another sequel to this!

The LOL scene worth remembering: In one of the prank attempts, Liv (played by Kate Hudson) switches the color tone can at the Tanning centre where Emma (Anne Hathaway) goes to get a pre-wedding glow. She comes out with a deep orange hue and is then seeing walking down a busy NY street painted orange. All over. Trying to keep a straight face.

The only negative point in this flick is the hair style maintained by Liv (Kate Hudson), the straightened-blow dried falling-all-over the face blonde hair does not compliment Hudons's filled out face in any way. It makes her look more like a grownup puppy than a famous actress, but anyway.

Overall: watch it if you want to spend a relaxed hour and half. If you have a bff, watch it with her/him!
And vouch to never get married on the same day as your best bud!

Crossing over:
Sunday needed a movie that wasn't a fun watch. "Crossing over" made the top of list. This movie about immigrants and their life and problems faced while living and hoping to get residence status in America wasn't a good overall flick. The story has been depicted a million times over already and further, the constant parallel running of different immigrants and their stories seemed like a market sale.
It felt like the screenwriter or director was hoping to get emotions out of his viewers, however, the movie itself played on till the end with a blank thought from the critic. Immigration and immigrant stories did well in the 80's and past before, don't think they would do too well anymore unless there's a real story in the loop.
"Crossing over" could have been a great movie if the scenes were shot with greater authenticity rather than an everyday life sequence. The actors didn't even seem too involved in the parts they played. Harrison Ford for instance just bore a cold expression or so it seemed throughout the running.Overall, if you missed watching it, you're not missing out on much. Although the film has an impressive ranging star cast, the story is just another movie made. Which is now almost already forgotten, a meagre less than 24 hrs later.

Jonathan : the stray she-dog!

Earlier on, during summer breaks, i was the kind of person who enjoyed following a strict fitness routine. Of course, these days, laziness supercedes my any other past interests and hobbies but however,

During my last few years in college, summers were a pleasant chilled out time. This one summer in the early 20hundreds brings smiles to the memory of a special few weeks wherein i encountered a stray dog on the streets of Mumbai...

It's common to all or most who know me personally. I like dogs. Basically domesticated pets. I grew up in a household that at one point of time sheltered 3 in-house born generations of love birds (yeah, we saw them hatch and grow into lovely pretty things!), 2 parrots, 1 baby squirrel (who had fallen out of a tree and lost it's mum), a dog (found on the street).
It's thus pretty ok to assume that we were an animal loving family.

Ok, so this one summer, i decided to start going for daily early morning runs. And i actually stuck by that decision. Today though, waking up anytime "early" is a major war like struggle for me. However, that summer....

I woke up! At 15 minutes to 6 am. Everyday! phew!
Armed with a portable music player and my walking shoes (i landed up walking , not jogging), i started out. I chose a 2 kn stretch close to home that was a route by the sea. Aaah..scenic it could be but i was too sleepy to bother.

It's during one of the first few "runs" during these summer mornings that i first spotted her. A brown, not-yet-fully-grown adult dog, with eyes that boasted of true innocence. She seemed unlike the other strays on the street. She seemed friendly and hungry but more childlike than not. Human childlike if i may.

I observed her cause i couldn't help not. She strutted around, trying to get people to come up to her, play with her, anything. Nothing. Usual it is for people to just walk past actually. Probably cause the fear of the stray biting you keeps you from really showing what you think "that the dog is cute of course!".

I swore to bring her some food from the next day on...
Comes day 2. I wake. I get my music gear and walking gear, sorry running gear, i pack in some biscuits for the stray browny and i head out.

I find her sitting around at the same spot as the day before. I walk up to her. She gets up, wags her tail and her face and eyes show-off the sweetest welcome i've ever got! I put some biscuits on the ground next to her. She smartly and confidently walks upto it and starts devouring them. The satisfaction got from seeing the glee in her face was indescribable.
It soon became a routine for me.

Going for a walk with a "doggy-bag" for my pet stray. I named her Jonathan. Why? Cause she felt like a Jonathan! Any dog lover or owner would tell you that they sometimes just get the urge to name their dog a certain something irrespective of whether it makes sense or not!

Jonathan seemed to look forward to seeing me walking toward her from a distance. I looked forward to seeing her eye light up and her tail wag everytime i neared her.
Of course, i did play with the idea of bringing her home, but i couldn't. I already had a dog who would fight with a new dog entering it's territory.
Summer was good. Every evening i parceled newer types of treats for Jonathan's breakfast.
Regular walkers and joggers smiled when they saw the scene play out everyday. A few came up to me to say they admired what i did. But did i admire it myself? Not at all! Jonathan was a dog. A sweet stray dog. She caught my eye and attention and i gave her what i could although, the reality in the number of loving and friendly dogs out on the streets are haunting. It takes alot more to really make a difference. I didn't make any difference as such. Just maybe only to Jonathan's life.

Summer eventually rolled into monsoon. College started. Rains started, the early morning ventures stopped.

I thought of Jonathan often through the year. I wonder if she's still around and if she'd remember me if i happened to chance upon her sitting by the sea...

I never ended up taking a picture of her, that's the only regret. But, she remains in any case in my memory. Always will i guess.

A poem for she

I sat down to write,
A poem about she,

The one whose my darling,
My lovely little baby,

She's just so sweet,
Sweeter than you can ever be,

The innocence in her face,
Could almost make up for common man's disgrace.

I found her on the street,
This white little baby,
She came home with me,
Entering our lives, creating simple pleasurable glee.

When she's happy she smiles,
And comes to sit next to me,
She cuddles up cutely and rather playfully.

When she's sleepy, she hides,
Under the masterbed, snoring in peace,
she loves eating chicken,
Ice cream and anything thats a mishti and sweet!

We think she's almost human!
Cause she almost understands all our feats,
She likes watching TV,
And chilling on the sofa seat.

Her name is Toffee,
She's my own little honey,
I love her white fur,
I love her dearly.

I'm glad to have found her,
Even if on a street,
She's made my life so much lighter,
Like almost maybe harmony!

I'm honored to be able to keep her,
She deserves everything a house pet should get, gladly,
I'm happy, so happy to have her,
My Toffee, my lovely little angel sweet!

note - p.s: Toffee was found wandering on the streets one February day in the year 2004. She was found with her leash on. Noone knows if she was abandoned or a run-away dog. However, she was scared and lonely and we had to, just had to bring her in. Some people (courtesy the WSD) adopt stray dogs. Some people adopt abandoned dogs. Some people abandon their own dogs (these people are'nt humane).

Some other people try and rescue dogs.

A modern day prayer to Lord

Lord,
I pray that you grant me, all of my wishes,
I pray that you hear me, please please listen.

I wish that you give me, a mansion by the beach,
Plus a car with big wheels, like one of those SUV's.

I pray that you give me,
A mobile connection with no bills,

A butler who can grill,
And a country house on the hill.

I wish that i can have,
A "successful" life,
Where money falls from every
Tree when i need.

I wish that when i go out,
It never rains on me.

I wish that when the sun shines too strongly,
There's always shade above me.

I pray that i can own at least,
One yatcht in my life,
A big white one,
With 2 decks under the sun,
Oooh, i can already imagine, what fun!!

I pray that you keep me,
Safe all my life,

I wish that in my mansion on the beach,
There are lots of plasma TV's and a nice view of the deep blue sea...

I pray that i have,
All these material things that i think i "need",

I wish that you hear me,
Hear me indeed!

This is my prayer,
My prayer to thee.

The TISS student

The recent crime against a meagre 23 year old student of TISS - Mumbai, has sent not only shock waves through the masses sentiments but also waves of fear through girls and women of the city at large.
Isn't it enough that we as girls/women have a thousand plus things to deal with on a daily basis already? And then comes the news that a girl not much diferent than us was brutally assaulted sexually by friends. Friends who she may not have known very well, but yet friends, who she innocently considered as safe to hang out with.

In a country that largely disregards it's girl child anyway (this is a fact seen even today in the mass of rural lands) and sometimes even in the bigger cities of India, girls have to anyway deal with a sense of fear in whatever they do and whatever they wear and whereever they go. It's very common for even a city girl of today's times to be subjected to lewd stares if she were to dress in what's actually a decent pair of western attire, this is probably the basic mentality inbuilt in the general masses. Forget western attire. Lewd stares in our own traditional wear is also pretty commonplace.

What irks one more is that, we deal with these issues all the time. But we anyway try our best to live a life fully by creating our own world of safety in which we build our friends and special friends and in which we make do with what we have by socialising amongst our chosen peers.

What do you do when the people you consider your own turn around and take you down and take every bit of self respect away from you.

A girl, a young student at TISS, an indian girl brought up in America, faced one of the worst if not the worst crime against her. This incident isn't an isolated case of it's kind. We read stories of this that happen around the country / world alot. However, it's incidents like this that take your heart and close it up in a way that makes you not want to make new friends or meet any new people. I mean, who knows if the next big scammer or pervert could be in the person your being introduced to.

It makes you somewhat paranoid. Paranoid when you do decide to have a night-out with friends. Because, an incident of this kind makes you want to stay alert, more alert than usual, no, you can't let go and have a good time, because you'd rather pay attention to the people or kind of people around you and your drink. It makes you fussy and scared. It makes you wonder secretly through various times of the day what that student at TISS really felt when she woke up the next morning only to figure out that her *friends* , a total of 6 of them, had raped her the night before.

Reading the news on this incident makes you think of the fact that you don't really know who your friends are.
Life's lesson has been to learn with every experience.
What about incidents like this? Does a victim ever heal? Does a victim ever feel safe again?

Life for every one is a book of issues that each is meant to deal with, live with, grow with. Or not, that's a choice.
However, any crime of this kind is downright disgraceful, unspeakable of, scary..and true.
It happened. Period.
But can we as people of the same city do anything to stop it from happening again?
Girls and women face smaller types of these incidents a thousand times through the year. In the local train, the local bus, on a local walk... it's a "push by mistake" if not a stare, it's a lewd comment if not a lewd pass, sometimes it's as bad as something one can't write about.
Respect is so dam hard to find these days isn't it. If only those 6 *friends* could be made to feel what it's really like to be in a girl's shoes.
What made them do it? We wonder. But can we really know?
Do they deserve to be punished? I think, yes. They should be somehow made to feel the exact same thing that they made their victim go through and then they should have the worst kind of punishment thrown at them.
Forgiveness in this case is not an option, they have destroyed a life. This is real. And a hard fact. Whatever the reason behind why they did what they did can never be a justification.
What audacity did these 6 young boys have, we wonder. Most of them came from good homes, good family back grounds. However, in cases of this kind, it's not influenced by where you come from at all. It's a basic feeling of thinking that you can just abuse who you want and get away with it. People in every strata of society do this. People in every strata of society are affected by it.
We read about it. We think about it.
Can we fix it?
How?
How do you fix it when the perpetrators of a crime like this were people you called friends. How do you fix it when the perpetrators are people next to you on a flight? How do you fix it when the perpetrators are sometimes members of your own family?
Can you fix it? Or can you at least try? We all wonder where we could possibly start.
From where or with who do we start?
Chilling fact is this incident and the brutal truth in it. The brutality of having to go on living, wondering...

One of my closest friends in reaction to this incident said to me: "i'd rather have been blown apart in one of the terror attacks in India than have faced a crime like this".

You know what friend?, so would i.

The 7 year old

The story in the recent Mumbai news about the 7 year old half-parsi child who died due to starvation and no medical treatment has been doing it's rounds and gaining it's fair share of publicity. However, most newsreports seem to only point to the fact that this child who was a half-parsi child could have been saved by the riches of the parsi trust funds and community as a whole if only they hadn't turned their backs on the fact that she wasn't a 100% parsi bred and borne kid. This story gets it's fair share of publicity all over our news, but i really wonder truly WHY?

I'm not a parsi and this article has nothing to do with religious or sectorial sentiments.
But, i really wonder how and why news reports "kind of" blame this tragic child's death on a community as a whole. The only real reason that this child's death by starvation was put in the news was because she is a half-parsi. Is that even justified?
Looking at the real country, it's pretty easy to see a large number of quick deaths of little kids due to various factors; out of which starvation may be a major cause but it's teemed with many more: medical negligence, lack of funds for treatment, lack of hygiene, poverty, poor living conditions etc. And more etc.

It's ridiculous how one child's death caught on the news while the major actual ones seen and experienced all through the country are blatantly ignored. Of course, we have our share of NGO's and volunteers doing their bit, but in a country of more than 1 billion, reaching out to every single rural child or even child in need within big metro's is hard work.
Farzin Batlivala, the aforesaid 7 year old who perished is an example of a child who was in need. When it comes to the basic question of a child in need, it is NOT about being parsi or half of it that matters. It's not even about being sikh or any other.
It's about humanity or the lack of.
Farzin's tragic story reached the news because she died due to starvation whilst her mother was away at work trying to earn a meagre salary to help bring home the food. The mother and children were abandoned by Ferzin's parsi father and Ferzin's pleas to the parsi trust to try and get their help wasn't successful because they needed proof that the mother (a non-parsi) had in fact married a parsi.

Imagine the mother's sentiments when she tries to help her children, but can't. Imagine the mother's sentiment when she is abandoned and has to take care of her children herself and just about barely can.

This story without the parsi twist thrown in actually happens openly in many many many corners of the world we live in, it's not a story sidelined only for mumbai or parsi's. It's a story that plays out in general alot.
But, in our world, we'd choose to help a certain criteria of people only. We divide and discriminate on the basis of religion, color,sect. Even if alot of us try to live in and create a world with no bias, the fact of the matter is that the sentiments of discrimmination are deeply imbibed in our own blood and we would unconsciously let it influence what we do or who with and how we interact.

This story of a young 7 year old's death caught on the news. In another part of the world the same back ground story of a lone and abandoned parent trying to raise her child would play out with the difference being that the child was of another caste / sect and died due to...

Why do we have this gnawing need to mention or even consider the color, caste or sect.
Maybe cause it helps to blame it on someone or something else? Maybe cause it helps us clear our own conscience? Why?

The bottomline is, a child died.
There could have been help given.
Help could come from you or me.
Fact is, help doesnt "have" to come from someone or some sect in particular.
It can just be us, in general.

The ones from MSN contribute

------
Between 2006/07, P.S. contributed some poetic art form online to msn's contributions for writers. Herebelow are 3 works from that category:
1-Just a little more
2-The world so big
3-A walk in the park
------

Just a little more
-Friday, November 23, 2007
As on MSN Contribute: http://content.msn.co.in/Contribute/Others/UCStory5006.htm

Just a little more,
Just a little bit more,
Come on now, don't count the score, just a bit little more.
Spread the word - the word of love,
Love who you are and not what you could be.
Cause if you do, there wouldn't be wars,
Wouldn't be doors, knocked on by beggars and more.
So just a little bit more,
Spread the word of love,
Love the people you see,
Cause without them, see, the point is, you wouldn't be.
This is one world. There should be one love.
Spread the word of love,
Come on now, just a little bit more.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The world so Big.
-Monday, July 30, 2007
As on MSN Contribute: http://content.msn.co.in/Contribute/Others/UCStory3414.htm

So much to do,
So much to see.
So many places to be.

So many people,
All these lives,
Days wear on,
I walk on by.

The world so big,
Comfort in this.

Although I’m alone,
I’m never really alone.

By myself not,
Cause there’s so much to do,
So much to see,
So many places to be.

The day starts here,
The night ends there,
Yet, I’m never alone.
The shield of the world.
So big,
Comfort in this.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walk in the Park.
-Tuesday, June 05, 2007

This story has been read 438 times. On Msn India contribute Site: http://content.msn.co.in/Contribute/Others/UCStory2604.htm

A walk in the park,
Left to my thoughts in the dark,
A walk in the park,
Surrounded by flowers,
Under the stars,
With my flutterring heart,
A walk in the park,
In the center of nature's heart,
The warmth is the start,
Of new beginnings,
New Laughs,
Something as simple,
As a walk in the park,
Dew drops that spark,
New beginnings, new laughs,
Just a simple walk in the park,
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Flick Flick vs Chick Flick: it really doesn't matter.

Cinema has always appealed to me. Most of us watch movies as a form of enjoyment and entertainment or maybe because we may just think that the hot actor / actress in a certain movie is worth watching a movie for! It wasn't for nothing that the term "die-hard fan" was coined afterall.

However, my personal interest in cinema falls within the criteria of looking for intelligent and good storylines in a movie's script, i judge movies, i'm not afraid to say so. I come from a background of artistic artists (hee hee) and be it hollywood flicks or the closer to home bollywood flicks, i watch most movies that seem appealing. No, don't get me wrong, i'm not a movie "lover", but yeah, i enjoy my dose of them once in a way.
Books are my preferred choice of a way to chill-out, but anyway, to get to the point of this note:

If someone were to ask me what kind of movie i liked, i'd probably say, "them action flicks - with the guns and goons, or any real comedy that turns into a laugh riot for me".

See, the point is, i dont hate or dislike any genre of movies. Within entertainment we have movies / plays / music shows and then further on within the range of cinema we have the various types of cinema. Action, love dramas, horror, sci-fi, CHICK FLICKS.

We like categorising, don't we? Sure we do. We label people, ourselves, our enemies and friends and also movies and more. Maybe we all do this to feel less confused in general, i would'nt really know and don't care to. Cause i label everything and maybe everyone too!
But, it sure helps to know what "type of movie" is likeable by anyone by labelling them.

What's funny is how we make our choices and preferrences but don't stay real to it.
I'd like to take the example of "chick-flicks" at this point.

Let's remember one thing, - no movie is a bad movie.
It's just that, everyone can have a different opinion and say in any matter, in general.
Further to that, no "genre of movie" is bad or "shameful to like".. Really.

A movie maker goes through an immense ordeal to coordinate the production, casting, script,post production, marketing and editing criteria of a movie only to have it cut and showcased to people like - us.

We can like it. Love it. Hate it. Or just enjoy it.
But, it's funny how we debate it, sometimes even have riots because of it, sometimes even get it banned.
The point is, everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has a story, basically. Whether to tell it or not is a different matter.

A movie maker shows his story to a million more people than you and i do.
Because he likes to and wants to.

So, this is how, amongst the varied categories of movies came known the "chick flicks" base.
Chick flicks are ideally (apparently) the kind of movies that chicks would like , or more so, the types of movies that "typical girly girls" would want to watch (apparently). And this base of movies is also the one that gets the shadiest and soddiest reactions. Majority of us people would have a 1st reaction that goes "oh my goodness, how CAN you say you want to watch THAT movie", or, "Yuck, i don't want to go for such a girly film". It's also superly crazy when it's usually a girl who comes up with a reaction like that.

People, seriously, it doesnt matter. You dont have to disregard a movie because it falls in a certain category of films being made.
If you really ask yourself in deep thought, it's not that you really don't WANT to watch a movie that could be a chick flick, it's because you're scared of what people would say or think of you if you did.
It's just a movie. Anyone who just refuses to see a "chick flick" because it's a "chick flick", is being plain... well, is being plain. hmm.

It's a movie! only. Nothing more. You don't have to watch , but then you surely don't have the right to hate it without even watching it. Who knows, it could have been a good movie afterall. You can't say. Cause you didn't see it.

The problem is, we're all ignorant. And we live by what people would say or think or feel.
Nonsense.

A movie is a movie be it any "kind" of movie. Hate it if you like, but form an opinion for yourself after watching it, not before. And, don't use other opinions. For your own good, remember that, that's precisely where the starting of ignorance arises from.

Personally, for me, i like action flicks. With them guns and goons.
But, i wouldn't not watch a movie because it was a chick flick or any other type of flick. I'd watch it if the story sounded entertaining and appealing enough.

Confessions of a shopaholic

*why i watched the movie*:

A girl sometimes feels the need to watch what we generally term as "chick flicks". Why? Probably because it's an unexplainable girl thing. Some girls prefer to only watch chick flicks all the time, whereas some like watching a wide range of cinema and sometimes lean toward the "wanting to watch a chick flick" feeling at some point of time. I think, rather, i do believe that i fall in the latter category!

So, some day on some busy week, when my friend and I felt like going through a chick flick, we decided to check out the newest one of the time "Confessions of a shopaholic".

*what i felt about the movie*:

I went into the movie hall hoping to be shown a movie that is a complete pink frilled comedy cum uplifting chick movie. Was it? To some little extent, perhaps.

As the name suggests (this movie was based on a book by the same name by the way!), anyway, as the name suggests, the movie is about a young female journalist (it's a wonder that most of us would assume that the lead "shopaholic" is a woman, it "could" have been a man, i'm sure there do exist some men shoppers who could go overboard!) who shops not just for pleasure but for needless need.

The only good show point of the movie i think was the lead actress "Isla Fisher". She was cute and played the role of a "young working girl" cum "fashionista in debt" well.

However, the story as such was'nt exactly a rewarding experience. Most chick flicks are just fun and random themes, however Confessions was more of a let down as a chick flick. It had it's funny moments here and there but on the whole, it was, just was.

The story goes: young female journalist shops alot, loves stores, can't not buy nice, new, good, expensive clothes and accessories, splurges almost all the time, sometimes even *lusts* for new clothes, gets into debt, looses job, by chance gets offered another job in a magazine called "Successful Saving" which is part of a publication group that also owns a high profile fashion magazine, so young female shopaholic accepts job at Succesful Savings so that she can maybe anyway move to the fashion magazine as a writer; while in Succesful Savings, falls for boss whilst trying to evade the Debt collector who keeps cropping up every now and again. I'm sure by now you'd have guessed the ending. A big misunderstanding, pleadings for forgiveness and anyway landing up with the boss was how it ended.

The story is predictable and pink. I'm not entirely saying that it was a waste of a movie. It was OK for the moment's fun.

It's surely not a "must-watch" though.

Fashion followers could probably love the movie for the clothes, although i don't think all the clothes showcased were coolly amazing either.

But the movie did get me thinking. It got me thinking to what extent i myself may be a shopper who craves for fine taste myself, to be honest, i don't shop alot, but when i do walk by a store, i can't help looking at the window displays wondering if i should buy / not buy. Most women are like that i reckon! The one part of the movie that any girl would probably relate well too is the part where Isla Fisher craves to shop and can't stop. It's hard to curb what you like doing best after all, ain't it? But, we all ain't shopaholics...that's why they made a story on her and not us!

The general feeling after the movie ended wasn't the usual "how cute" after a chick flick is over, it was more of the, "oh ok, well, yeah ok".

The audience here probably wouldn't take to the story 100% for other reasons. India is a country of savings. For sure, we do buy alot, individually and as families. However, a young working "fashionista for fun" based out of New York would probably know to a larger level and feel more from this movie what it tries to tell.

Entertainment wise, the moment of watching was reasonably OK. I wouldn't think of this movie a second time and let's just end this by saying that if i saw it playing on home TV again, i'd give it a pass unless i was very deep in one of them "chick flick" moods. Very deep. Otherwise, pass...

I think i'll stay off the chick flick mode for a while. A while that's longer than short...

Slumdog Millionaire

Based on the book "Q&A" by Vikas Swarup, this movie Slumdog Millionaire is one of those lucky few flicks that received accolades and nominations and oscars this year. I read the book a few yars ago (it was a book given to me by an associate). The release of the movie and the handsome number of criticisms from indian people the worldover and the press didn't really make me feel like watching the movie, until yesterday.

Mind you well, i didn't watch it because everyone else seems to have had. I watched it purely to gauge and see what the fuss was about. In these recently past months, every columnist and writer has written about Slumdog Millionaire. Every movie goer has either despised or credited Slumdog Millionaire. Some very famed Indian personalities have gone public with their comments on Slumdog Millionaire. A very famous indian actor, post the immediate release of this movie, criticised the movie openly on his blog. A.R. Rahman, one of India's greatest modern day music composers won the oscar for Slumdog Millionaire.

So, i watched it finally. One final and sudden tuesday evening. In the comforts of my living room, i put the cd on. What is expressed here on is just a view. A feel. Not intended to influence or inspire any else's thoughts or actions on this movie or anything else in general.

Even after reading a mix of negative and some positive views in these past few months on Slumdog Millionaire, the only first emotion or feeling that came through me while watching the movie was, "how true".
Not "how true" to what critics had said earlier about the film. "How true" when the movie honestly portrayed what slums in Mumbai are in reality all about.
Anybody who has even briefly voulnteered in an NGO dealing with underpriviledged children will know that this movie's storyline is the truth. There is actually an unspoken of industry, something we call "begging" that flourishes fully in our midst and it is true that some (not all, some) unsuspecting children are ill-treated and sometimes even mutilated by their "managers" to help make a quicker and bigger buck.
It's what goes on parallely in a city like Mumbai whilst big fashion brands and luxury brands strut their stuff about trying to impress the few high-end socialites of the city / country alike.
But, isn't this a truth & reality for any big city in the world? Why would we cry out loud publicly and try to defend ourselves when the world watches a movie like Slumdog Millionaire? So many of us went on to say, "this isn't right, this isn't India, this isn't fair, the movie only got famous because of the white director". Impossible nonsense.

Agreed. The storyline is nothing exceptinally great. My first feeling was: this didn't deserve so many Oscar nominations, but i also don't believe that the reason it did get so many nominations was because of the white director. Maybe good marketing (pls note that Slumdog Millionaire was released around the time or a bit after the 26/11 happenings in Mumbai). Mumbai was already in the limelight and then a movie that's based in the same city.... well, i'll leave you to do the math.

It's just a story. Based about a boy. Who came from the slums. It had nothing to do with India really. Every country in the world has it's ghettos, slums. A hundred plus movies are based on the "rags to riches" storyline, about someone who came from the shacks and went on to be a big someone. Never did the country that the movie was based in wake up and defend what they knew happened in the city. In any city. Because, it's just a movie. It can be used as a wake up call. But no, we'd rather walk about and cry out loud, saying, Slumdog Millionaire is nothing of the true India.
Maybe it isn't "the only true view of India", but fact is, these things happen. What's important is, the movie was never made to portray "INDIA". It was made, to entertain. No part of the story in reality is really that unimaginable.
What goes on in the slums of mumbai, we can hear / read about. We can support it / help ease the situation / or just be ignorant about it.
What we see in movies, we can choose to like / dislike. It's just an opinion afterall.
When a movie based on Mumbai is going places, we can choose to support the caste (who were mostly indian) / or turn around and pass judgements and say," we only won because the director was white).
We can maybe open our eyes and accept what really does happen at the end. Smile. And remember that it was just a movie. And tomorrow, there would probably be more. Not of the same kind, but movies nevertheless and it's not about who made the movie as much as how well the majority of people took to it.
Jai ho.

We're all one

We are all one,
And we were all wild,
Wild beasts among trees,
Lying in jungles, swinging free.

We are all one,
You and me.
You can’t be better than I, neither worse than me.
Cause the fact is, your made of the same thing in me.

Do you see?
We are all just the same,
Animals, humans, here say, what a shame,
Some of them lead in a pack,
But it’s only us who tend to move out of these racks.

We fight amongst our own very selves,
We exploit among our own very selves,
And turn around and scream aloud, and shoot
When we see a dog chasing its prey.
We kill our own, We live divided,
It’s only us humans who don’t really stand united,
It’s only our ring of species that’d live and see,
The disadvantages of racism and fights on religion;
While we grind ourselves to believe.

Unless provoked,
An animal won’t kill it’s own kind,
Unless provoked,
We probably also wouldn’t really fight.
But yet as humans we think and feel,
That we are the better,
In the entire line of living beings.

We are all one,
All the same, naturally,
You’re made of the same thing, the same thing in me.
Not only are you and me one,
So is the world and all it’s beings,
We are no better, no worse,
But maybe we are getting ourselves to be.

If you read this and smile,
Or read this and cry,
It’s just cause your human, A human like me.
Come tomorrow and another new day,
You’d forget this rhyme,
There’d be the same living and life.
And there’d probably be more of those fights.

We are all the same.
We are one, you and me.

At the coffee shop

At the coffee shop,
I Saw,
A couple sipping coffee,
Sipping sour,
I watched what seemed to be true love,
But actually it was tainted love.
They looked so cute and seemed so sweet,
But in reality this is what surpassed in between,

As the girl said to the boy she loved,

“Even if I love you true,
And I know you can’t love me to,
I would always love you,
Its cause I’m just a silly fool.

Even if I love you true,
And you can’t love me back too,
I would always cherish you,
And the dreams that our love could have turned into,
A romance budding like a flower
Fresh with hues, that sparkle, like something new.

Even if I love you true.
And I know that that’s me being a fool.
I’d still just always live loving you, I will,
Like I do,
Cause the thing is,
My love is true.

Truer than the day that starts,
Truer than my heart’s hazard,
Truer than the love of love’s,
Nothing like you ever knew.

And so,
Even if I love you true,
And I know you can’t love me too,
I would always love you,
Cause the thing is, my love is true. “

At the coffee shop I watched,
As the filmy story poured,
In front of me, sat a girl beyond her teens,
Wishing he wouldn’t leave her be.

Said he to her,
"I’m sorry girl,
I love you too,
But we can’t make it, dear.
I’m sorry but there is no way,
If there was, I would have found it, yesterday…."

"Don’t leave just yet",
Said she to he,
"This is us,
There’s no in-between.
I don’t care, there has to be a way,
We had our plans, let’s live it, breathe it, I say".

"What’s the point sweetheart,
I move tomorrow,
I won’t be back,
Simple sorrow.
I’m not leaving cause I want to leave,
I’m leaving cause I have to leave."

"The hospice is just a drive away,
But there’s no point in us staying,
I can’t watch you watch me waste,
So, please let’s end us,
This is it. I say".

At the coffee shop I watched,
As she held his hand one last time,
She didn’t cry nor shed a tear,
She just looked at him,
Loving pure.

I went to work the very next day,
To the hospice where I spend my ways,
I saw the boy from the coffee shop,
Sipping coffee,Slowly,

But never asking for more.

~~Paromah

A conversation

I look in the mirror, Oh, hello, i see a vision of me,I speak to it, i ask,Hello, do you hear me?

Yes, replies she, I always do, you see,That's nothing short of a crown. I am you and you are me.
How’s it going back there? Asked the vision in the mirror,

The typical, nothing spiritual, i answer, feeling weird. Yet feeling like me.
"Sounds ok to me", she says, set yourself free… The world is yours, take what it is. Take it as it gives… Take it, BUT LIVE.

Ok i say, but do you really believe, All that's wrong, will eventually be right again,Cause, I can't seem to really believe.
"I don’t know honey", she says,I don’t know little baby.
Guess that sounds ok to me.

Hello vision, i ask on another day,do you hear me? "Yes dear, but I can just barely",she says to me, Have you set yourself free?
Not really, in the sense, i'm trying to just "be", but, it's hard, guess i'll be alright, all eventually..."Sounds ok to me", she says, take it easy, and watch yourself lovely.
Sounds ok to me.

Hello there, can you hear me, No, my darling, I set myself free, It’s probably something to do with spirituality, I feel so wonderfully free. But, where are you, & why cant I see? Cause your yet to live completely, darling, and i have to go far away like the yonder sea… But, your suppose to be with me, You said i was you and that you were me!Where are you really? I cannot see. I need to see, cause i need you to tell me, everything i have to hear, Where are you and why can't i see?

No dear, child, I’m free. I’m what is part of the worlds duality. I see you though, young and sure, I’m watching you child, Be yourself, be free.
No, I don’t get what you mean, You can't just disappear, Come back, come back please. Where are you and why can’t I see? What do you mean by you’ve been set free?

Darling, little baby, Look, just see. In your heart, You’ll find a memory. Of yourself and of harmony, I want you to know, that was a different kind of reality.

What do you mean? Where are you now? Tell me please.
I’m sorry child, I can't, see, Iv'e set me free, I am something of a mystery…. A conscience in reality. I have to go you see, You can't keep counting on me. I'm just a small part of what you're suppose to be, Your journey right now, should be without me. You will be fine, Trust on me. Cause with happiness comes some misery. it's just the way things get to flow free. It takes one to set the other free. I’ll watch over you, i'll always see, That all of your life will be, The best of world’s to be. But i have to leave now, Leaving so you can breathe. Count on yourself and what's inside, Cause, i'm what's inside of you, you see? Think of me when you want to be free… Guess that sounds Ok to me.

I’m so struck on by this feeling of a dream. I wake up, alas, she was with me, but only in a dream, A conversation that made me feel, Made me listen, made me plead.

A light of white, something like harmony. Living and letting go of memories…. In this world, there's duality and reality,This is what you have left to see. I walk toward a path to be free. I look into the mirror,There's only me.

-Paromah6/March/09

Corner of the Street

Corner of the street.
--P.S

She sings standing on the,
Corner of the street.
She sings between the traffic lights,
As the lights turn green, she is seen,
Standing on the corner of the street,
Singing songs, with a heart so deep.
Touching it is, to see the scene.
She sings standing on the street,
On the corner of the street,
Traffic lights change on time,
She doesn’t seem to really heed.
Singing as she stands on the street,
Watch her as she softly breathes,
Musical notes like harmony,
Playing the sound, simple and sweet,
Something like the Perfect Scene.
The girl, the one who sings so deep,
At the corner of a street,
She sings to you, she sings to me,
So we can hear her, even though she cant really see.
She sings for money, she needs to eat.
She needs some food,
She sings for these.
She sings for love, and broken dreams,
She sings at the corner of a street.
As she sings for you and me,
She dreams of homes and warmth and a mother’s need.
She sings but not for charity,
Yet noone seems to really see.
She sings so sweetly,
Quietly,
At the end of the street,
She hopes that people hear her as she breathes,
Musical notes of harmony.
The cars will pass,
One at a time,
At the halt of traffic lights,
Her voice is heard, oblivious to the world’s uncaring spree.
But no one will stop and see,listen or give the girl some heed.
The blind girl that sings, on the street,
Night and day,
She sings to please.
She needs some food,
But no one will see,
Cause the world is blinder than that girl can ever be.
After the storm, comes the last rain,
After the hail, the cold fades away,
After the sunset, there’s a new day,
But still the people that’s us,
Never will change.

As the girl sings at the corner of the street,
I bring her some pie,
Full of apple and I feel her glee…

But my tears pour down,
And I watch as she eats,
The wonder lust eyes, filling in the feed.
Something so simple, can make her smile in glee.
Something so simple, can make her happy with ease.

And like after the storm, falls the last few drops of rain,
The cycle goes on. And on and on.

Singing at the corner of the street.
For you, for me, for anybody who would heed.

Turned again home

(for all those who lost their lives on the 7/11,Mumbai blasts)

The day you never,
Turned again home,
The day that shook,
Our spirits,
Left cold.

It wasn’t so very,
Long ago,
(Just about a year,)
The memories – grown.

Into a past,
Weaved and sown.
These are the days,
We survive, with no hope.

What was the point,
They lost their lives,
People like you,
People like me.
People and their lives.

Doesn’t anyone understand.
The seriousness of the crime.
What was the point,
Of such a big crime.

Blasted in a day,
In a second and minute,
Lives washed and wasted carelessly away,
Under the pouring of the monsoon rain.

People like you,
People like me,
Left with a pain,
To live our lives,
Left with just a few memories inside.

The day you never,
Turned again home,
The day you left,
There is now no hope.
It wasn’t that very long ago.

Just about a year ago.
I have nothing to say except that,
I miss you bro.

There was no point,
There is no point,
You don’t hear me,
Because you never,
Turned again home.

-Paromah
July 2007

The Child in the Valley

The child in the valley, innocent and sweet,
Walking, strolling down the road, beneath the summer heat…
Passersby smile at the sight, but never stop to question why.

Why in solitude he walks,
At his age without a cause,
Without a penny for some feed,
With no where in this world to sleep.
With nothing on his mind but tears thus he weeps,
Living on dirty streets.

The child in the valley, innocent and sweet,
At age 3 he didn’t know he’d grow to see,
Days wherein he’d have to be,
Alone and lost on this street.

He loved his mother, it broke his heart,
When in a drunken rage his father would pound her hard,

On that day he still believed,
In dreams that he knew he must meet.

On his way he sought still seeks,
From a distance he stood and watched

A lover’s quarrel, standing on the porch of a house
On 54th Street, he watched

As father pinned mother down,
As his mother was hit till there came no sound,
Till father turned and saw him along with the others in the crowd outside what was once their haven – their house.

The child yet so innocent, so sweet
Fled the scene from 54th street
Wanting to forget and break free.

Ten years have passed,
He doesn’t live his dreams
Because his fears have scarred him so deep.

Alone in solitude I see him walk,
Beneath the summer heat…
He has no place to go, no house of his own.

He remains the child in the valley,
Innocent and sweet.

By – Paromah Sen

Little Thrills

Growing up in Mumbai and the old heart of it, meant that one found and made friends and categorised them according to either where they met them, interests & hobbies groups, good friends and just friends or well, anything else fit.

As a child living in Mumbai - a bustling city, made for getting immune to, accustomed to, passing days with and or without simple things that are usually taken for granted. Meaning which, in Mumbai , and further right uptil now, alot of residential areas faced and face , rather alot of good residential areas faced problems of lack of proper water supply, lack of cooperative housing, noisy neighbours etc. Most places have their own sets of issues for people living there to deal with, which is why, our own closer to home issues, became soon , a part of daily living. Something, we fretted over but accepted eventually and worked our days around it so that we could live with it.
So anyway, coming to the actual point of this. Commonly for kids who had parents born and bred here... we had our parents homes and then their parents homes to visit and have play time during school off's and summers.
My maternal grandparents who live in Mumbai and their homely house was the quickest and commonest get-away while growing up. Every once in a holiday season we wound up there. And breathed in and enjoyed the simple living in with our grandparents and their life styles, visiting their friends, visiting their friends kids and their kids and going to the local shopping centres to enjoy and feast on local delicacies, being pampered and loved , to the core.
It's around this time that i made the set of "friends from the grandparents house".
So, my grandparents house, had one thing that i appreciated alot in it. 2 rest rooms instead of the 1 in my own home and 24 hr running water supply unlike in mine where it was dominated by hourly supply (read: Mumbai's Living issues).
This simple fact made me glow with glee when i knew i'd be staying there for even a short period,
When they say that nothing beats a parent's love, they should've also said that nothing beats the warmth of a grandparent's hug. Cuddling up to my maternal grandmother's saree and laying in her lap was the warmest most cosiest feeling i remember as a child.
Anyway, so, to tell one the truth. In my own housing society, i never made many friends. More so cause the area we lived in leant more toward the traditional & conservative lines of living. And we, i, dealt with a mix of traditions and modern day living. We understood the importance of our own culture, yet, meshed it with others alot. Which meant that my own outlook was alot different that others in the neighbourhood, which ultimately resulted in me making more friends outside of my home;
3 girls.. including me. Summers at my grandparents house. Winter holidays and diwali holidays at my grandparents house, 3 girls. All around the same age group.
I can't remember how to entertained ourselves to the exact point of narration, but i do remember that our days just flew by...
One thing we derived a very great thrill from was, ringing on random people's doorbells and then running away and hiding! What pleasure a growing child can find from doing that is one only a child would totally comprehend.
My grandparents housing block had about 2-3 short little sweet buildings laid around a single compound. All of which were not more than 4 storey's high. The ground floors were of course our usual targets. Due to the having of a couple of short buildings around each other, our hiding places were always in abundance. We use to just ran up randomly to a house unknown to us, ring the bell with a straight face and scram! Then, once hidden from view, we use to listen to the door opening and the innocent non suspecting inhabitant going, "hello, who's there?".
Our efforts to stiffle our upcoming giggles at this simply yet giddyheaded thrill gave us another joy altogether.
How innocent and foolish, one would think. But , it was fun, Think as you want!
Laughing out loud without inhibitions , without a care in the world, with just the feeling of being us, being me, being free, that's a good childhood.

Common in Mumbai, or maybe anywhere in the world is to loose touch with old friends.
I don't know where my "friends from the grandparent's house" are, i don't know what they do.
If i looked hard enough, i'm sure i'd be able to find them again and reestablish contact, but right now, my heart just wants to hold on to the old memory of these little thrills without meeting their grown up versions. Not just yet at least!

Today, i was at work. In the building i work at, is a lift. A special lift in the stairway corridor for higher level seniors.
As i walked up the stairs, the yearning to press the lift bell and run was felt, hard!
If only....

A Red Rose

A child on the road,
Probably just four,
Caught my eye,
As i walked by the shore.

He walked on the street - plain, simple, sweet,
Looking pretty neat,
In a shirt quite clean.

A child on the road,
Not more than the age of four,
Begged for some more,
Money from the people
who sat,
Close by the shore.

Urchins live on streets,
Hear their sound when you leave,
Their giggles pretty sweet.
And their running feet.

A child on the road,
Begging for some feed,
Just something to eat, That's all he seeks.

I walk by the shore,
There is a child on the street,
With No place to sleep,
Except beneath the stars by the sea.

I walked by the shore,
Saw him deep in sleep,
Put a rose on his sheet,

A rose that he doesn't need.

A rose - the symbol of peace? Of perhaps hopes and dreams?
Don't know what it means,
I think of the angel sound asleep.

I walk by the shore,
The next day, i walk along, looking for more,
But there is no child on the road,
He finally shed his load.

He died of broken dreams,
Broken wounds, didn't heal,
No food for his feed,

No love for his need.

A red rose, by the sea,
Lay alone, it's petals flying gently in the breeze.
I look toward me,
There are no angels sound asleep.

Love, Life, Forever.

What i believe the problem with the majority of us is, is that we all tend to, even if only sub-consciously, believe in the aspect of "forever".

This could be the only reason why we would, generally, feel pain when we lose someone, when we lose out on a relationship, when your close ones part ways, when friends leave. When there is a final goodbye.

Everyone wants to believe and hold on to some kind of faith. Some hope amongst when in the mid of a crisis be it professional or personal. This faith, intruded and supported by forever.

Because, we change so much and so fast. Because places, people, dogs, houses, cities, life -all grow and change so quickly, what you were last year of this day, is not who you are or probably not where you are since then.

Because, memories and pictures help us to think and hope and believe. Because, at one time during the picture clicking spree, you wished it had lasted forever.

We all wish at times that "it had worked out". We all sometimes wish that "we could have made it last forever".

There are times when we do thank our forces for the reverse. But yet, all of us, are basically and simply made of the same feelings, emotions and material. We can all be good and we can all be just as bad. We all cry and we all laugh.

And we all need and want the basics of life. And love. And forever.

We've all had that "first love" and the glimmer and gloom that came with it.

We all tried things we weren't suppose to while growing up.

We all fell and lost our way at least at one point in time in life.

And we all needed help moving on.

It's all because we believed in the "forever".

If nothing is as constant as change, if nothing can last forever, if life is all pre-destined, if loves come and go and if we all move on any which way,

I wonder sometimes what the point in it all is.

Are we built to really be this way and make life this way, or is this just the way it turned out to be? And now has to be?

Unhappy - contributed by Sushmit Roy Chowdhury

Unhappy
-- by Sushmit R.C

Bent down,
in this big ol’ town,
is despair that moves mountains.
It won't be long,
before the dawn,
and dream-wreck is all that remains

And in the midst of it all,
is the rise and then the fall
And I am sure I will never make it through.

And I don’t care how it ends,
and I don’t care at all.
I know how to dream,
Don't know how to realize.
The death of a fool,
Mourned lesser by the wise.

But I will make them see,
the faith I have in me.
Will never bring me down to my knees,
I will never ever be unhappy

The other day,
I dreamt away,
I flew back home.
Had no wings,
or any magic rings.
just the fear of being alone.

I woke up with a start,
but the dream had made its mark.
I cried myself to life.

These tears often give reason,
they often make me believe.
life's much harder without them.
This mess will make me go mad
But yet it's is such a beauty,
and its all that I ever had.

And the lips that tasted my tears,
now break into a smile,
It's all so bitter-sweet
How could I ever be unhappy?