Friday, May 23, 2008


Many boats sail away, with the tides they sway. Searching for shores afar, always near, yet so far. Almost there, but not quite where they wanted to be.

Some boats stay on the shore, soak up the sun not wanting any more. Holes in the bases, quite beyond repair. Content in the placid unconformity, basking over the halcyon stretch of the sea. Left behind, of their own volition.

I am a new boat, feeling quite old. Let me stay on the shore.

Photos: Fishermens Settlement, Colaba

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Uma Thurman to star with Steroid Monkey

In a shocking revelation it came to my knowledge that Uma Thurman is to star in a movie with Steroid Monkey as its male lead. The movie is to be directed by Vishal Bhardwaj, based on the life of the actress of yester years, Nadira. The monkey, which cannot act even if his life depended on it is rumored to be quite excited at the prospect of working with the lovely Uma. Fans of Miss Thurman came across the astounding piece of news while browsing her wikipedia page. The actress who has worked with the likes of Ethan Hawke and John Travolta, doesnt understand the implications of choosing to work with Mr. Monkey. Maybe it is the prospect of money which made her take such a step, but fans believe if she comes across some of the works by the demented expression-less bollywood clod she would think once again about the role.

What the fuck is wrong with Uma Thurman? I cant for the life of me believe that the actress I adored in movies like Gattaca and Pulp Fiction would rub shoulders with Hrithik Klutz Roshan. Ohhh, Et Tu, Karuna.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

New Species Found

New lizard species: A new lizard species has been found in Satara. The
lizard, Hemidactylus Sataraensis, can’t climb walls or stick to

Sigh. Lucky fucking lizard. Its inability to do normal things in lizard-kind has made the front page news. I wish even my inabilities could be identified and documented with pomp and glee. They can even put me under observation, as long as they feed me and keep discovering newer inabilities. The headlines can read something like:

New Human Species: A new human specimen has been found in mumbai. The Human, Procrastinatus Permanentsis, can't do hard work or concentrate for long periods of time. Dies in extremely competitive environments.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

They are leaving me behind

The tramp moves on to the end of the street
I listen to the echo of his hobnail feet
For some there’s a future to find
But I think they’re leaving me behind.

The world hurries on at it’s breakneck pace
People fly by in their lifelong race
For them there’s a future to find
But I think they’re leaving me behind.

The chances they come, but the chances have been lost
Success can be gained, but at too great a cost
For some there’s a future to find
But I think they’re leaving me behind.

The wind sweeps up and goes back to it’s tree
The rain flows by and moves to the sea
For them there’s a future to find
But I think they’re leaving me behind.

Nick Drake

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Kazuo Ishiguro: Importance of Acceptance

Kazuo Ishiguro has been one of the most thought provoking authors to me. Today, I finished reading ‘An artist of the floating world’, my 4th novel by the writer. This work, as most of his other works, portrays and enunciates the thoughts and world view of the protagonist. The work moves forward in a given period of time, while progressively looking backwards, in no specific chronological order at various people the character came across and how they subconsciously participated in his evolution as a disturbed individual, which he denies till the end.

Ishiguro always shows the transience of human nature, how it moulds itself according to the person’s assimilation of himself and events around him. The central proponent might be dealing selective areas of occupation, be it a pianist, a butler, a detective or an artist. That doesn’t stop them from justifying their actions and the impact they have had on society, their importance in the hoi polloi. On the first read, it would appear as if the agonist is entirely composed of the best ideas and notions about existence and rightful living. As the novel meanders into the deepest recesses of thought process, we come to realize that the initial righteous image of the person through his own dictation is flawed. Every human is perennially in doubt of their choice of path and purpose of existence, and would go to any lengths to vindicate the same, at whatever cost.

The prose, which initially makes us allies of the hero, thus complicit with his actions brings out our own tendency to side with what we think is right. Later on, as we are brought face to face with his cracks in personality and the inherent weakness of will to come to terms with failure as a human being we see the reflection of our own insecurities. It makes us uncomfortable, afraid to realize that Pianist Ryder, Butler Stevens, Artist Ono and Detective Banks are all around us, in us.

That, is the genius of Kazuo Ishiguro.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Shooting The Moon

Every now and then I realize that I am a very difficult person. A person who no longer talks to me (there are many such) had said that I am not everyone’s cup of tea. It came as a surprise to me the moment she said so. I had assumed that I am one of the most amicable people I know, someone who tries to give space, is sensitive to difference of behavior, understanding, attitude and choices. How the hell am I difficult then? What she said affected me and that instant, resentment spawned. Without telling her that I didn’t give two shits about what she thinks I started rationalizing for the good of me and rendering her daft; for my own good too. And there I recognized my very own defense mechanism. Superb I must say.

A defense mechanism works in a dilemmatic direction for me. One, whatever you find untoward about me reflects your own personality flaw in an equal measure as it does mine. So maybe instead of telling me that I am so and so you can try your hand at the charity-begins-at-home routine and root out the flaws which you think are mine, but are actually yours. I have also observed that voicing these thoughts is not helpful in taking the conversation or the relationship forward in a positive manner.

I know what’s wrong with you, I can tell you that. God help you if you think the same.

Two, my doing something like this is exactly the reason why I am not anyone’s cup of tea. Not that I have not tried not doing this, but I can’t stand anyone farting in my face and expecting me to open my nostrils wide.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Morning Walk

You know what the right thing to do is. You know how to do that. You also have a faint idea how important it is to do it correctly, what you might lose, how you might get changed, forever. Yet you push. You don’t shove; you push gently, inch by inch, feeling by feeling. A strange madness overcomes reason. The reasons to push keep refreshing, intermingling, becoming one dark mass of masochistically sadistic feeling of pain. Now it is imperative that you ignore cries for help, especially from within yourself.

And then you have reached the edge. You have the least idea what made you push it this far. But the edge is near, and to finish successfully you need to do the last bit. Your hands quiver and your legs ache. You are no longer sure if it’s your brain which drives you, or your heart. Which is the evil one? Why evil, you might ask yourself. Of course its evil, otherwise it wouldn’t feel this fucking good.

Pause. It’s the last inch. This part will take more than will power. It wants the last shred of goodness, of kindness and compassion to consume and gain strength. It is almost like a form of meditation, concentrating on one point.

A slight tap and it has happened. Down you fall, confused and panicked. Weren’t you the one pushing? You look up, the last effort, and there stands something black with its arms outstretched, laughing like a madman. You feel cheated, you look again, and realize. It’s your own ego.