Comeback

A simple word with a simple meaning. We all have had it in our lives, and have seen it in others as well.
A comeback is what constitutes
our history,
our theologies,
our inspiring fables,
our sports,
our heroes,
our superheroes,
our movies,
our personal victories,
our future,
our politics,
our friends,peers,our enemies,
our idiosyncrasies,
everything.

Something that is omnipresent, something that transcends its own meaning. A comeback is just not a positive turn of affairs. A comeback is good for one, bad for another, though never usually a zero sum game. A comeback is like fog, it always feels like we are approaching it, without actually understanding that we are already inside it. A comeback is a traffic jam, we think it is their because of others, without acknowledging that we are a part of it. A comeback is an oceanic wave, inexorably stubborn with its presence. A comeback is unique every time. A comeback is subjective. A comeback is knowing there is no coming back. A comeback is transient. A comeback begets comeback. A setback begets comeback, a comeback begets setback. Here's commemorating the "birth" of comeback.....

Air Drumming--Make yourself heard---or seen, whatever

"Once in a while a person comes along who holds on to its beat, no matter how hard the world beats back" -Adventures of Power

Out of all the "bands" that I have represented, out of all the performances that I have had "mesmerized" people with(could I BE more modest!!!), there can be nothing in comparison to the day I got to talk to a girl while playing Drums in Hard Rock Cafe. Did I say Drums, I meant Air-Drums. Oh, common, all you shruggers who are just about to shrug the most novel, the utmost of all musical theories, the experience of making an impact with, but your hands and no 'sticks' attached, the joy of rolling those fingers to gesticulate that you couldn't have cared less about the people nearby doubting your sanity and a total neglect to your internal turmoil of not being able to show the world that,"Yes, I have heard this song, its great". Please dont tell me, that you havent tried them yourelves, every single one of us has, now or then, on the advent of their best songs, have twitched their hands to spare a bit of rolls to the air, be it in front of the mirror by yourself or in a bar amongst people. And those of us, like me, who really comprehend the joy of (air)drumming from their hearts, understand, that yes, this guy might not know how to play Drums, but just look at the way he is Air-Drumming.No age long practice, no tuning, no long hours of trying to get the best sound out of the Toms, its all in your head, the more you enjoy it, the better the sound. Headbanging is stupidity. Better bang your head on the wall instead. The joy is essentially in making the music, rather than following it. What fun lies beneath the attempt to time the fall of your hand with the sound of the snare, the joy of fisting your fingers and completing the end roll and then hitting the crash with your head bowed. Thats NIRVANA for you right there.

I am nobody if I dont have some-buddy

Of all the things, good or bad, true or false, right or wrong, that I remember from December 2008 grilling interview sessions, one question that is rigidly etched on the murals of my brain-wall is

"What do you think is your weakness?"

I could not think of it then, not that I never had one, I always had many. But one that is presently exposing itelf to me is, my over-dependency on others. I cant do one thing alone. I cant take any step without a proper counsel. I am nobody if I dont have some-buddy. I rely too much on others. And, yes I am learning. I have learnt a very important lesson after being alone in this wretched city. In the end, even if you most certainly believe that someone would not leave you on the way, that someone you thought would be with you forever, that someone would always understand if something is wrong with you, you would be left alone eventually. You cannot rely that much on anyone, its all an illusion. And the longer you retain this illusion, the harder it is when this bubble breaks.........

Walking the Straight Line called Life!!

Watching the dew drops slip

Licking the cusp of the cocktail glass

Life displayed its colors to me

And it’s true meaning at last

Life is a cocktail my friend,

To drink it, is to live

Flaming like hell at some time

At other times it would just chill

Life ain’t as sweet as wine

Won’t get better as you age

Life ain’t as cool as beer

Won’t be as smooth at every stage

Life ain’t as transparent as Vodka

Won’t mellow you down when times are hard

Life ain’t as fleeting as Tequila

Would make you endure when you wish to discard

It is a blend of all the drinks

Don’t search for the perfect proportion

It all depends on the order you have placed

A drop more misery, a drop less salvation

And it’s in people dreams, I think

The quest for the ultimate blend

And they mix and match, day and night

Lost in a game which has no end

It hurts me to think about these people

Who are still searching for the drink they’ll prefer

Wasted, stoned, intoxicated they hopelessly fall

Not knowing, that life doesn’t give a One+One offer

……..

It feels strange to think it this way

When I have everything I need, my mind still would pray

Yearning for the greener grass on my neighbor’s clay

And still mixing the drinks in utter dismay

Goodbye Blue Sky......

So, it’s finally over. While the new 10,000 mass of ‘spectacled’ eyes witnessed their dreams realize reality on this day of 25^th May (IIT JEE Results), I quietly slipped out unacknowledged, with an Alumni Form in my hand. And yes it was my dream too, to go to IIT and get a good profession and make a big name of myself, I only never want this dream to be fulfilled, damn I wanted to stay here. My mind with a still a long list of should-have-dones and must-have-dones and should-nots, I feel I could have have never got enough from this place.

And now I move from KumAON to AON, from Delhi to Bangalore, from mates to peers, from spending to earning, from jeans to suits, from professors to Bosses, from strolling to chasing, and most of all, from having a life to making a living. And I do believe that I have grown up to be the person who will adapt well to this ‘turn of affairs’. Yes, I have grown up, I have seen quite a lot already. And yet, my mind still disagrees. The fact that I don’t want to change, that I don’t want to leave my present life, the fact that I still want to play AOE, I still want a window seat in a train journey, I still like playing football in rain, I still pick my nose now and then, and also the fact that I still look like a child, makes me wonder that while I moved on to experience the world, I held the wrist of my child and took him along. While the kid in me eventually vanished, the child grew to be childer.

No more Entry no.-2005ME10468. The IIT time has gone. The experience of staying in the beautiful city of Delhi has gone. The time to roam in the streets at 3 in the morning has gone. The night-outs have gone, the afternoon-sleep has gone. The freedom of doing whatever you wish to has gone. The time of screaming and rejoicing in unison has gone. The points, the leads, the trophies have gone. THE life has gone.

Slumdog Millionaire-Victory of what India lost

Slumdog Millionaire is a British movie directed by a foreign director Danny Boyle who is an AcademyAward-winning British director and film producer, best known for his work on films such as Trainspotting, Sunshine, and 28 Days Later. The movie received a very warm welcome and went on to occupy the main pages of many international newspapers and received a breaking news status whenever any global awards were being announced. The final tally of the movie stands at 8 Oscars, 4 Golden Globe Awards, 58 other awards and 29 nominations.

The movie begins with a police torture, moves onto show some Hindu fanatics attacking a Muslim Slum, then shows how orphaned children are blinded to beg while girls are sent to brothels, and how the underworld here deals in murders and extortion. Finally when the credits start going to the roof, you can see the drums in a railway station, trumpets are blowing and the two words “JAI HO!!” leaking out the cinema hall. And here we are after some months, witnessing Danny Boyle embracing the Golden trophy with his hands.

It is a victory no doubt. We have no past history of any movie related to India getting such international acclaim. But was the victory really ours? A news article recently said that the Indian Government is giving millions of rupees to CNN for the “Incredible India” campaign. But the movie revealed exactly what the government wanted to hide. We all had felt it. The movie didn’t live upto our expectations. We all had felt cheated, somewhat robbed of that feeling of standing up and acknowledging the Oscars as our own. India’s path to Oscars seems to have taken a deep plunge from Lagaan to Slumdog. And while we were just nominated for one award in the past, the moment was still more felicitating than winning Oscars this year. And then starts a series of thought interruptions, of times when Aryabhatta discovered Zero, and another, of the Kohinoor Diamond snipping out from our fingers, Vedic Mathematics, Yoga all in succession, like someone “shooting thoughts with a Sniper from as far as the Past”. India has been cheated again; the only difference this time is, that we are rejoicing the fact.

With this view of the “Slumdog-India-on-air” brought in front of the world, how is it possible that for a country who has been struggling to find even one nomination for an Oscar, hits a jackpot suddenly. How is it possible all the critics of our country, who never left any chance of rebuking any goof ups in a movie, were left paralyzed over so many loopholes present in the movie. And how is it possible that for a country like ours, where sentiments are just on the verge of overflowing with processions and dharnas and burning effigies, this movie passed off scot free. The answer, would match, rhetorically, with what the old politicians tagline, “Bahri taakto ka haath hai”. A renowned director of the west and the pity-seeking imagery of the East, seems to be a perfect recipe for winning the International “Cookery Awards”. And while the actors and directors potbellied themselves with fame and glory amongst the glitterati, the “protagonist” slums rioted (quietly) in Bihar over being called Dogs. But, as they say, Barking Dogs seldom bite; they are better left unheard of.

The content of the movie seems to centre on all the possible book-marked stereotype there could have been for India. The riots, slums, open-roof toilets, children begging, police-torture, prostitution, underworld, they didn’t even leave our “Call-Centre” image for speaking out loud. The movie could well have won The Best Documentary for documenting the stereotypes of India, if not for the drama added. Nothing good could be judged about us, every scene, every shot, and every story has been shrouded so much by the depths of ignominy that it seems that the whole billion of us live in slums, steal and beg for a living, or more precisely it depicted India as “Slumdog Billionaire” in front of the world. And the fact that the movie won 8 Oscars unveils a retarded and imperialistic mindset of people who rule the world of cinema. We did walk over the red carpet that we always dreamed of, but we never in the worst of nightmares thought that we will be floored off it at the same time. The name Slumdog Millionaire is left for all to remember for ages, for us to believe (or made to) that there was a time when we finally were able to make a name in the Academy Awards, for others to muse for years over the sickness and misery that some of us are in and feel proud of what they have. And yet, we delight shamelessly over the victory, while the movie makes a despicable impersonation of our nation. As the movie depicts the scene of little Arvind being blinded, only some of us could really understand the fact that it was all of us who were being blinded, blinded by an award, blinded by the gleaming phase of hollow pride, blinded by calls of JAI HO.

It’s indeed a victory of our failures.

Coz it Doesnt Remind Me of Anything....

They lie within the deepest abyss depths of our hearts, their importance in our lives occupy such magnitudes of our every emotions and feelings, their hefty natures, without them it seems that the biggest chunk of our way of life diminishes, such are the small trifling happy moments, the small tickling activities in which we spend most of our time and that inundate the evanescence of bigger happier reasons, that defines the not-so-subtle justification of a smile bearing the magnum opus of God’s creation while a laughter, brooding of discontent. They come and go, only to return, and their mark on our memories seems so very rejuvenating and heavenly that they diminish every melancholic frenzy that engulfs our mind. Yet, they are dismissed under the authority of sudden spikes of bigger and influential reasons of happiness. Only if we could acknowledge their strength, their impact, then can we really make each of these smaller happy moments fill up our lives with unbound memories. So, here is an ode to all those small happy moments:
Banta on a hot summer afternoon
Stapling out pins from the stapler
See my self-created paper plane fly smooth
Home Made Rajma-Chawal
See the sun gleaming through dense scrubs
Finding something important lying under my bed that was lost
To have got a rupee more from some barter
To get a cup of tea after a wet rainy shower
….
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"I like studying faces in a parking lot
Cause it doesn't remind me of anything
I like driving backwards in the fog
Cause it doesn?t remind me of anything......"

So Sang AudioSlave