30 Aug 2013

SRK takes up Lord Krishna's role

With Janmashtami day's lively daze, aamchi Mumbai tuned into festival mode with head-banging music. I wondered Lord Krishna preferred  which of the two songs more? A remix from Aashiqui 2 or Lungi Dance from Chennai Express. There was flash– a van decorated in silver foil. There was excitement– a man tore his T-shirt when a particular mandal broke a matki. There was inquisitiveness a lady, while having her mouth open, saw if the little guy on the pyramid would make a hit... a mosquito conveniently made a hit into her mouth.

The scene after crossing the only time-saving bridge in the city got even more flashier. The crowd at Worli was a replica of the one we witnessed when we earned the 2011 World Cup. What was happening? It seemed that Lord Krishna was supposed to visit Worli for his birthday. Maybe He posted it on Twitter. But there really wasn’t any Twitter update from Him. After all, He must have decided to spend time with his childhood friends as He keeps so busy with us on the rest of the days. He can’t bear to listen to us even on his birthday! So what were lakhs of people doing in Worli?

One dear MLA had organised a Dahi Handi... (I really don't know whose money was put into it). Okay and...? And SRK was scheduled to come after a line up of several other celebrities. Now there had to be  a wait, an anticipation, an anxiety, some goosebumps until the gem arrived. It was fascinating to see the love of humans for another human (who is charming and enterprising). It is also fascinating to see the 'SRK jealous-mongers’ criticise! Please do, scream out your lungs, exhaust the oxygen within you because it will just add to his fan followers' base. One can’t have lovers until they have haters. 

So coming back to the love of humans for another charming and enterprising human.
 After learning that SRK was coming for the Dahi Handi, Madhuben had travelled from Gujarat. Her supportive husband immediately arranged for Madhuben’s travel and here she was in Mumbai, decked up with new glazed bangles. Rizwan, Asif, Farzan and Shoaib Aziz, the four siblings wore coloured lungis while Saurabh gleamed amidst the lakhs of people. Saurabh, an aspiring filmmaker was pushed by the crowd with varying intensities at varying points of time while he waited only ‘to see’ SRK. Kakaji had carried his medicine, and popped it in while slyly giving one of his calm smiles to Kakiji. Kakiji scored high on shyness. Both had lost a few of their teeth capable of breaking African walnuts. But Kakiji had bought dentures. She couldn’t let SRK see her teehtless. Stock broker Mukundbhai blurted on his phone ‘Kal phone karna. Abhi mujhe Shahrukh ko dekhne do.’ Did I really hear a stockbroker delaying his phone conversation? He really didn’t care about the delicate points on the Sensex or the Nifty for those few 'SRK-glancing' moments!

I witnessed India in Worli; different castes, creeds, religions and languages wove into one location for one purpose. All had a common place to visit that Thursday evening. A common desire ran through every blood – to see SRK. A common wait pumped in every heart.
Ruhi Kaur and Inderjeet Kaur were heard telling their putar Junior Inder (as they usually address him) that if he works hard and honestly, someday all these people will await to see Junior Inder. Junior Inder, seated on Senior Inder’s shoulders, screamed with joy. 

The cameras went over heads. 
The flashes triggered. 
A common joyful uproar was launched. 
The common tears of joy were left to unveil.  
The day had begun.
He had arrived.



17 Aug 2013

EXPERIMENTAL SCREENPLAYS: ‘How a small action creates a change in the universe’

To,
Human

After a human asked me something regarding one of my earlier posts ‘How a small action (a hug by Shah Rukh Khan & Salman Khan – to be precise) creates a change in the universe’, and after I witnessed some real life incidents at different timings, I decided to conduct a written experiment with 2 screenplays.
Who asked me?
Just a human with nerves, blood and arteries.
Asked what?
So the smallest of actions creates a change in the universe, eh? (followed by laughter which sounded like snorting)
I decided to experimentally stalk how the smallest of actions can create bigger twists and turns.  

APPARATUS:

My Mind

My creativity

Observing a few real life incidences at different timings on one quiet, partially-rainy morning

I couldn’t really get SRK or Salman Khan to participate because if I would have got them, it wouldn’t be a quiet morning anymore.



EXPERIMENT:

 SCREENPLAY #1
FADE IN:

INT. STREET/ SOUTH MUMBAI  – DAY

Abundant greenery is evident on this street which is lined by buildings on both of its sides. The street is empty with two cars parked on one side. The street is wet, and few droplets drip from the trees. The screech of a truck passing by is heard. A hamster is pecking into the ground. The MELODIOUS shankh being blown is heard. The innocent LAUGH of a child from a near distance.... the hamster stops pecking. Running legs of a child... wearing scuba diving shoes with a button that lights with every quick step the leg takes. We notice a hint of an oxygen cylinder-shaped sling bag that is swaying as the legs run. The hamster rapidly crosses the street... hides into the trees. The MELODIOUS sound of the shankh. Running legs of an adult wearing black converse shoes. We notice a hint of rugged grey track pants. The legs fade into a distance.
A suit clad MAN, talking on his phone is taking fast paced steps towards the car...

MAN
(laughs)
Bingo. Didn’t expect Valkesh to sign it this soon?

Man gets into car.
MAN (CONT’D)
Whatever, the ball is in our court. Yes, yes. Ask Khushboo to remove the contract papers.

MAN (CONT’D)
(starts the car)
On my way!

He hangs up. A FRAIL LOOKING MAN, wearing rugged clothes comes upto him. Man rolls down his window.

FRAIL MAN
(smiles)
Gadi saaf hai na (The car is clean right)

MAN
(smiles back, searching in car)
Kaka, sorry.... lagta hai bhatuwa ghar pe bhool aya. (Sorry uncle, I guess I left my wallet at home.)

FRAIL MAN
Kya saab...  Apki gadi ko extra force se dhota hoon. (Sir... I put in extra efforts/ force to wash your car.)

MAN
(laughs)
Are, gharpe jhakar pasie lelo na. (Go to my home and take the money)

FRAIL MAN
Abh wapis peeche jaana padega. (Now I’ll have to again walk back)

Frail man begins walking back. The car drives away in the opposite direction.

FRAIL MAN
(murmuring)
Aj phirse woh khadoos parsi bolega ‘derse aveeche, ghadera’ (imitating). (Today the irritating parsi will again tell me ‘You’re late, you donkey’)

Frail man trips over something.

FRAIL MAN
Kya kachra... kachra sab jagah. (What now... there’s garbage everywhere)

He picks up a thin brown wallet. He opens it and sees a lot of cash and cards in it.
Legs of an adult wearing black converse shoes come in from a distance. We notice a hint of rugged grey track pants. The feet with the scuba diving shoes follow. The frail man is staring at the money. A lady pulls his collar from behind (she is the one wearing the converse shoes and tracks).

LADY
(hitting the frail man)
Robber. How swiftly you people flick things?

FRAIL MAN
Are, memsaab... (Madam..)

LADY
What are? Haan... what are?

FRAIL MAN
                                                     Woh...that... paise... no give

LADY
                                                                    No give?           

LADY (CONT’D)
So if somebody doesn’t give you money, you flick haan?
I’ll hand you over to the cops. Come with me, COME (dragging him)

FRAIL MAN
Baapre Bhagwan...aurat... (Oh my God, lady)

LADY
(turns to look at kid – she is wearing a scuba diving suit)
What are you waiting there for?

The kid runs towards her mom.

KID
Mummy, leave him. I’ll be late for the fancy dress competition.

LADY
Sapna, these people need to be taught a lesson. I’m hanging him over to the cops.

The three of them fade into a distance, as the hamster crosses the street.








 SCREENPLAY #2
FADE IN:

INT. STREET/ SOUTH MUMBAI  – DAY

Abundant greenery is evident on this street which is lined by buildings on both of its sides. The street is empty with two cars parked on one side. The street is wet, and few droplets drip from the trees. The screech of a truck passing by is heard. A hamster is pecking into the ground. The MELODIOUS shankh being blown is heard. The innocent LAUGH of a child from a near distance.... the hamster stops pecking. Running legs of a child... wearing scuba diving shoes with a button that lights with every quick step the leg takes. We notice a hint of an oxygen cylinder-shaped sling bag that is swaying as the legs run. The hamster rapidly crosses the street... hides into the trees. The MELODIOUS sound of the shankh. Running legs of an adult wearing black converse shoes. We notice a hint of rugged grey track pants. The legs fade into a distance.
A suit clad MAN, talking on his phone is taking fast paced steps towards the car...

MAN
(agitated)
Why is Valkesh creating such a fuss and not signing it?

He gets into his car. He hangs up. A FRAIL LOOKING MAN, wearing rugged clothes comes upto him. Man rolls down his window.
FRAIL MAN
(smiles)
Gadi saaf hai na (The car is clean right)

MAN
(searching in car, removes his wallet, hands frail man a note)
Thank you

Frail man analyses the note as the car drives away. The hamster runs in the direction in which the car drove. The frail man walks in the same direction. The hamster takes a turn, swiftly paces around... climbs onto a brown wallet fallen on the street and pushes it. The wallet falls into a drain. From a far off distance, the legs in the track pants and the small legs in scuba diving shoes come, passing across the frail man who is merrily singing.

FRAIL MAN
(singing)
Mein apke kaam me aata.... (I would have been of help to you...)

SMALL GIRL WEARING SCUBA DIVING SHOES
(to her mum wearing tracks)
Mamma, I don’t think you are finding that wallet here.

FRAIL MAN
(singing)
Par aj nahi... (But not today...)


So whose small act lead to what followed?
The hamster who made the small girl run after it? 
The small girl who was running making her mother run after her? 
Valkesh signing or not? 
The suit clad man forgetting his wallet or remembering to carry it? 
The lady dropping her wallet? 
The day? 
The wallet?

All did what they felt like, and like everyday the day shaped itself up based on their small doings.
We may not realise it, but much bigger changes in the world are all because of our doings itself.

(*So kudos to you if Chennai Express is a hit. And un-kudos to you if it isn't! Anyways, now, it is. Hah!) 

2 Aug 2013

Freedom of expression given, if it's in accord with our dear netas


It’s altogether a different feeling to stalk back certain moments when one realises the harsh, yet real face of certain ‘supposed’ freedoms which we as citizens of India are given. I stalked back certain moments from my school and college days. I remembered studying books which elegantly, like a long stream, listed the freedoms the citizens of India had. It felt liberating to read the words ‘democratic’; it felt exhilarating to know that I along with my batchmates had the ‘Freedom of Expression’ sans any fears attached; it felt wonderful to know that four whole articles in our honourable Constitution were dedicated for this very Freedom of Expression. But that’s all what it was and it is! Just a few words embedded in various sheets of paper. I think the editor who edited those sheets forgot to add a single line ‘if it’s in accord with our dear netas’ after editing the Freedom of Expression paragraph. Or maybe it was just one of our dear netas who ordered him not to tell the writer to add it.

"Maharashtra and Mumbai??? Why not? Mumbai has always fancied itself as an independent entity, anyway. This game has countless possibilities." 
- Writer Shobhaa De’s Tweet- the tweet that brought several realities to the forefront.

It’s just an expression (that too satirical) consisting of 20 words (that too on Twitter). But expressing 20 words is baap re baap, isn’t it dear netaji?

And we don’t understand or need humour, isn’t it netaji?

And how can we use the term ‘game’. It is a question of the land, and crores of emotions attached to it, isn’t it netaji?

And how can Mumbai obtain a separate stance, isn’t it netaji?

Well netaji, I along with millions of others already know that you can’t take satire or humour in good spirit. Fair enough, but what exactly happened to the Democracy status? Where exactly did our freedom of speech and expression (which our Constitution clearly states) evaporate? 

We can’t use satire. We can’t use words like ‘game’. We can’t express our views, and even while tweeting on Twitter or posting on Facebook we need to spend hours to analyse our tweets and posts, ensure that it is in accord with every neta party (and maybe even send it to your office to get your approval) and receive an approval/ rejection receipt maybe after a year (considering the reputation with regard to time management you guys have). Oh, and we should also know that if it isn’t in accord with your terms and conditions, we should totally expect personal remarks, protests in our compounds and threats.

But dear netaji, I on behalf of the youngsters of this nation must tell you that you have very well, in absolutely life-like picture quality, explained to us a side of the word ‘opportunist’. Against all odds, if one of us bravely decides to express his or her view, you-the dear netaji sees a great opportunity to tweak the interpretation to maximise the vote bank and suddenly express boundless and elevated love for your constituency (strictly through words).

So now I’m left with a hazy understanding of this concept ‘Freedom of Expression as practised in India’. Until an actual amendment is made in our rule book or a restriction is added under the prevailing heads, I’ll continue to go ahead with the one currently stated in our Constitution; even if our dear netas lack humour, find expressions offensive or pricking! And I’m sure there are several other youngsters who would do the same to keep democracy alive.


Click> Publish 

24 Jul 2013

How a small action (a hug by Shah Rukh Khan & Salman Khan – to be precise) creates a change in the universe

It’s said that the smallest of actions, the shortest of words and the most subtle of reactions do certainly have an impact on this big, badly beautiful world. Whoever said/ plagiarised it, wasn't faking it! And it was this very hug that made me actually understand the meaning of these spiritual-cum-philosophical lines. Earlier, I would think that it was just a random guy trying to mint money from his book comprising of such lines.

 It was just a month back when I was taking a stroll on Bandstand promenade, which is incidentally the same place where both Shah Rukh Khan and Salman Khan have their plush residences. Like every other day, it felt refreshing; the breeze swept along with the slight drizzle. The partially wet mud had begun to emit its unique fragrance. People walked, jogged, lazed and gossiped. Some like me; ‘stared’ - let’s make me and the rest who stared look more productive. Some like me; ‘observed’.

So I observed; the meagre sounds of a tiff, coming from a distance, slowly pricked my ear drums. The volume of this unpleasant sound increased at the same rate at which people turned heads in a particular direction. Yes, a fight was in progress. People flocked to the exact site to get the best view of two beings engaged in a verbal spat lavishly garnished with a multi-lingual stream of abuses.

‘Dude, this is as entertaining as an open theatre’ said the guy with dreadlocks to another bald guy as they passed by me to go to the “entertaining spot”.

‘It’s the SRK-Salman war - sequel 2’ replied the bald guy.

For a moment I wondered if a film shoot was going on. Or maybe it was just the lovely media bugs that had come to churn out some buzz-creating honey. And just how randomly we get thoughts, the next thought I got was ‘I'm hungry’. So I decided to head back home, and yes I had to pass “the spot” to get home. There was neither a film shoot going on, nor was the media there to drill or grill.

So what exactly was happening at the “entertaining spot”?

I was stranded in my car as the two stars of this real tiff – Mohan chatwala and Ritesh chaiwala argued on how Ritesh approached Mohan’s customer, Bill at 8:30 p.m. Bill, after his jog everyday, would eat chat prepared by Mohan at 8:30 pm. But this very day Bill drank Ritesh’s chai, instead of eating Mohan’s daily chat. This was because Ritesh approached Bill at 8:30 p.m. asking him to buy some chai. And Bill agreed.

Got it? No?
I can’t help it. Re-read!

Back to the scene

It could clearly be seen that Mohan was in high spirits to fight. He refused  a plate of sev puri to a  passerby, who took the risk to interrupt their fight asking for sev puri.
I had to honk. I couldn’t stay there till their fight terminated. I was hungry, and neither Ritesh nor Mohan would give me chai or chat until they had filled their tummies with a good dose of this fight. Before I could honk, I managed to hear another of their furious verses said in Hindi. I'm translating it for the convenience of worldwide audiences.

‘You are just like Sallu, harsh and mean’ blurted Ritesh to Mohan, while pointing at the bungalow where Salman Khan lives. So clearly Ritesh didn’t like SK.

‘At least I don’t crack dumb jokes on people, like the person whom you admire, SRK (Mohan repeated the K to create a spoof out of a film’s scene) replied Mohan. Clearly, Ritesh preferred SRK.

People seemed amused. I honked, honked and honked once again before I drove off.

The very next day I noticed both Mohan and Ritesh having placed their stalls at two extremes of the street. And thereafter I noticed them at different ends every day until recently....
So until recently, when the news of SRK and SK hugging spread, nothing changed! Or I thought so until I went for my regular stroll. Mohan and Ritesh laughed while serving customers chat and chai. Their stalls stood beside each other. I saw the same bald guy walk up to the tea stall. He didn't seem amused. He waited for his plate of chat as he sweated profusely.

‘I'm sorry again’ Mohan tapped on Ritesh’s shoulder while squeezing some lemon onto the ingredients in the plate.

‘Now that they have hugged, we too can, isn’t it?’ Ritesh proceeded to hug Mohan.

Are... please hurry up Mohan bhai’ ordered the bald guy in an irritated fashion.

‘Yes, yes’ Mohan spoke as Ritesh hugged him.

Mohan swiftly dropped some coriander chopping onto the plate and gave it to the bald man.

So it’s just one hug, why is the media making such a big deal out of it? This is what people are discussing now. A few hours back, somebody asked me ‘Is it so important that it has to come on the front page of Mumbai Mirror?’


I don’t know. Nor do I care. What I know is that I've realised that every action that we make has an impact on this universe, be it hugging somebody, proposing somebody, greeting a neighbour, appreciating leaves, reading these words or smiling. No act is impact less.

4 Jun 2013

Stalking Frownys Vs Bright Minds

My school-going sister needed to collect her textbooks for her upcoming academic year.She would be entering the eighth grade. A grade which I would never forget because it was a grade that left me with  a massive number of memories. Memories of fun, and purely fun. I had fun playing, dancing, studying, participating in events; I had fun during exams and picnics....

So my sister  needed entertaining company (obviously me, duh!) amidst the boredom of new textbooks, new syllabus sheets,  new unnecessary fears of new frowned faces of teachers.

My sister's face glowed. The glow was due to the sweat; she had been playing with her friends over/below desks until a frown faced teacher entered the class.

'You need to study at least 9 hours in a day from now, or you will fail in 10th class' blurted Frowny, let's just address her as that. I noticed sparks of nervousness appearing on my sister's glowing face.
Thinking back of when I was in the eighth, we weren't told we had to study to avoid failure. We were told we could study if we wanted to learn and explore life.

ME (in my sarcastic mind): yea, really... maybe they should even give up on bathing... it wastes time!
FROWNY (to all of us): Parents, even if your lazy children bathe on alternate days, it is fine; but they have to study daily. 
Thinking back of when I was in the eighth, we weren't told we were lazy. We were told we were highly responsible and capable of achieving immense feat in whatever we pursued. 
No wonder I felt claustrophobic in that classroom. Some not-so-pleasing odours seemed to sway. Oh, and in my time, we had pleasing fragrances in classrooms. 

'One smile doesn't cost, Frowny. If nothing else, it will only make you look good' my mind spoke to itself.
Thinking back of when I was in the eighth, we had teachers filled with energy, optimism, humour and their smiles helped us not to fall asleep when we read about one of the many battles in Panipat. 

'You kids are full time on your phone or laptops. You should read relevant things. Okay, Chetan, tell me who is India's P.M?' asked Frowny in a dominating tone.
Chetan, a chubby soon-to-be eight grader, and a victim of Frowny had a look which clearly said 'and you really think I don't know the answer to that?' 
Chetan replied with great confidence 'Miss, why do teachers always ask us such questions. We are always underrated. Why isn't an adult ever asked such a question?'

Frowny was quite pissed. Her ego had been hurt. How could any student (whom she thought doesn't know who India's PM is) ask her anything like that...

'I know that all adults in this room will know that answer, Chetan.' she said as she banged a stack of textbooks on the table.

'Come you pests, and take your textbooks.'  Frowny had to go to some other class to hopefully feed her ego there.

We all began to disperse. I looked at Chetan. He and my sister were discussing about a new invention; another classmate joined in and announced the new chess move he had learned from his uncle.The others pestered him to share it with them. Naomi, my sister's best friend,  dragged her to one corner to show her the candle she had made for her grandma. 
I saw bright minds. Each of them was bustling with ambition. Each of them wanted to learn. Each of them had a dream for India. 

It was unfortunate to see people like Frowny acting as a mentor to these bright minds, constantly demotivating them and telling them they weren't bright. But deep within I knew, these bright minds wouldn't be overhauled by Frownys in their journey. They knew well whom and what they had to look upto. 

While walking out, I decided to stalk and test Frowny's concept of 'all adults knowing who India's PM is'. I went upto a parent who was busy gossiping with a few other aunties about a soap. 

'You look so much like our PM's wife!' I exclaimed with joy.

She instantly replied 'Aree.. but I thought Abdul Kalam was not married.' This lady had clearly been a sincere student of some Frowny.

I didn't know who was at fault  for demotivating bright minds and trying their best to turn them into horse-blinkered empty vessels.Was it the Frownys of our society who tried their best to demotivate bright minds? Or was it  the not-so-charismatic PM of ours? Or was it just the fault of bright minds because they were bright?

I joined my sister and her friends, and learned about the new invention they were talking about - a robotic mechanism that could heal a particular disease. 
They very well knew whom and what they had to look upto. 

Let the Frownys keep coming. These minds aren't giving up their brightness. 
 





17 May 2013

Stalking thoughts; fearlessly, freely


Restless, furious, ghastly entities!
The first emotions these words bring to our minds: fear, avoidance, dislike, disgust.
But let’s think tangently, let’s keep all our conditioned thinking aside, let’s think damn freely.
An entity that is restless, furious and ghastly can fill our eternally stirring souls with peace. Sit beside such a river, waterfall or dance to head banging music. You will feel serenity. It’s quite miraculous how restlessness can lead to serenity, how fierceness can bring calmness.
Similarly, we need to think freely to bring out the best in us. Don’t believe me? Well, that is upto you. But what wonders can thinking in the same monotonous way do?

“But I just spent 400 bucks… rather wasted 400,” Dippy told me frantically. I finally met her, after having to have waited for her on a road we considered ‘peaceful’ for more than 30 minutes. We were fascinated by the concept of inner peace from the film Kungfu Panda, and were in search of it. Sounds stupid? Let it sound that way.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dips. The auto you were in was stranded in traffic. The meter rose” I tried consoling her.

“Rose quite rapidly.” She responded furiously. She was collecting money to buy a new camera. Every single rupee was highly precious to her. It’s rare to see such people these days who value literally every single rupee; but when you do encounter Dippys in life, you do feel inspired and learn so much.

“Maybe you should earn it back.” I couldn’t think of anything to say. This was what came out from my vocal chords.

“Hell yes, and I’m earning it back in the next half an hour.”

She had formed a pact. The goal had to be met in the next half an hour. She usually, almost always till date, would carry out her said task. She wouldn’t accept delays; and I’m sure she wouldn’t even take them well.

We two stood on some random road; two to three people passed at a frequency of thirty minutes on that road. A car or an auto made special appearances on special occasions. Our resources were Dippy’s empty wallet, my wallet housing 50 rupees with a whole lot of tissue papers. Clean ones! Now, we needed to think, almost instantly, of a business model that would give us a turnover of rupees 400, on an average, per 30 minutes.

Selling something concrete was the most conventional idea. Few empty packets of Lays and Parle G lied on the road. We couldn’t sell those for obvious reasons. Thankfully that day, there was nothing there or nothing that we had carried that we could sell, or we would think conventionally eternally until we merrily turned hundred.

Conning people didn’t hold a chance. Dude, we are highly ethical people! The only time when we lose our ethics is when we push the other one standing infront of the AC, doping in all the cool air at a time when the city turns into an oven.

So coming back to the situation we were in. I stalked our talents to evaluate what could aide us now. She had great engineering knowledge which wouldn’t work now. I made great unburnt bread which wasn’t really feasible now. Both of us sang like frogs, danced like zombies and mimicked like pirated DVDs. This was all we could use now.

“We should” said Dippy.

“Everyone has heard melodious singing, witnessed mind boggling dancing and heard jaw dropping mimicry. Let’s give people something new.” she added with great enthusiasm.

Two people were passing; we didn’t know when the next lot of humans capable of giving us money would pass. We had to do it now. I, thankfully, didn’t have much time to think conventionally. Thankfully, I didn’t have enough time to ponder about making a fool of myself.

I sang; I mean I croaked. Dippy danced, it looked more like a rundown car trying to start its rusted engine. The two people held an expression which said they would run away right then and swear not to come back onto that road even if the spaceship that could save humanity from the end of the world stood there. They did as we forecasted. They screamed on the top of their lungs and liver, cried and ran away.

I and Dippy felt good as well as guilty. We felt good as we had atleast applied our free thinking. We felt guilty of scaring away the people.

A group of around 10 people suddenly came onto that road. This herd included the two people we had just frightened. Had they bought their friends to beat us up or arrest us for creating fear?
Their eyeballs searched… for us. Their radar caught us. 
The two people said “Once more, for them”, pointing to the herd. 

“You got to watch them”, the two laughed and told the rest of the group. We realised that what we thought was their ‘cry’ when they ran away a few minutes ago was actually their ‘laugh’. Yes, some people have this laugh which sounds like a cry. Variety.

Dippy showed me the time on the watch. We just had 4 minutes before we could pocket the said rupees 400 as per our set goal.

Thankfully, it again didn’t give me time to think conventionally. It’s funny but true; when we have less time to think we take the best decisions.

 I thought to myself “What the hell!!!”

I croaked again and Dippy made those rundown car moves.

“That’s great talent I’ve seen” said one of them, who was an action director.

They left. Dippy waved to them with a rupees 500 note in her hand.

Making roughly 500 per half an hour can amount to a turnover of 8000 per day, which can amount to roughly 2 lakhs plus per month. Our fearless free thinking did create a good business model.

17 Apr 2013

SRK - a better leader than Rahul Gandhi!

The recent comment on my previous post by Smruti got me thinking.
' hey decent stalker... Do you think SRK can be a good leader for India? or how about Rahul Gandhi?'

@Smruti and all others, so here is my next post. This one's not only the voice of The Decent Stalker but I'm sure it's the enthusiastic, energetic and zealous voice of billions of other Indian youngsters. The title of my post is a clear and bold reply to your query. Let me add on the voice of Young India to it; SRK may not be a member of the Parliament and may not also want to be a part of it till eternity. Fair enough! The same goes for many of us; we wouldn't want to get into politics. What matters is how we make our own little effort to benefit the people of this nation, how we inspire other people to work towards the benefit of this nation and how we lead our future generations (even if we don't have out butts stuck onto the power seat).

Each of us has a dream. Yes sure we want it to benefit us (no one wants 'not to have money') but it will surely benefit  people around us and India on the whole. Be it in the field of business or entertainment or spirituality. We need inspiration.  We need motivation. We need role models. We don't care if our role models smoke or drink. We don't care if our role models are covered in white or wear torn jeans displaying skin. We don't care if they are old or young. All we need is dynamic role- models who motivate and inspire us. Considering the above factors of being able to inspire, act as a role model and provide a tiny bit of motivation, SRK already seems a bigger and better leader than Rahul Gandhi.

We aren't sitting in that 'seat of power'. We don't have the power wherein one phone call made to some authority can kill a rapist. We do hope that people having conquered this seat of power (and seem least interested to give others a chance) make that one phone call. But Alas, we instead  see hoards of crores pumped into 'some form of humans' who just raped one of our people. We also see people who don't hold that seat of power, someone like SRK and Farhan Akhtar trying to get some sense into society through the MARD (Men Against Rape and Discrimination) campaign. Once again let me remind you we (including celebs), don't hold that power wherein we can enter Tihar/ Arthur Road jail and ensure justice. We don't have mummyjis who rule India, nor do we have family friends who are Prime Ministers, so we can't even put in a word to our mummy or family friends to use their power to ensure justice.

We end up doing something like holding a protest outside Rashtrapati Bhavan wherein the owners refuse to even come out, and prefer being seated on plush sofas. We launch a campaign. We try pumping some sense into the people. We promote humanity. We remain sensitive to all communities, races and genders through all our acts and words. We ensure that no person loses hope in our beautiful country.

 We don't play the blame game. We don't end up giving speeches which support/ defame a particular community, race or gender. We don't mock.

We are highly tired of speeches and words. We don't have reason to care about the number of seats the UPA has gained or lost. We don't see any reason to care if Rahul has gone to Trinity College and obtained a distinction. NUMBERS aren't going to help the farmer who doesn't have a single light bulb in his home. NUMBERS aren't going to help the man who is striving to collect money for his daughter's education. NUMBERS aren't going to help the family who lost their son in 'one of the recent' blasts. Yet we don't lose hope in our beautiful country because we see somebody like SRK adopting five villages to provide them electricity,  funding the education of kids of people who work for him, creating the children's ward at a Hospital or putting in his money for relief funds to help people who have been victims of natural calamities. We see somebody getting up from that plush sofa and telling us humanity still exists.

So if a person who doesn't hold that seat of power and still can motivate and inspire us, I am sure he can be the best leader! There is someone that continues to instill hope. There is someone who motivates us to act. There is someone who inspires up to work towards betterment.

P.S: All I know is that if SRK contests elections, he is acquiring a hell lot of votes. And that's going to be a big blow to all the power imbibed so-called leaders :P What a scene. #Epic.

Let each one of us do our bit for this beautiful country. Cheers!

Love Decent Stalker











6 Apr 2013

Whom to stalk in IPL?

Hooting. Howling. Hat-trick.
I watched the repeat telecast of last evening's match. Today's match was about to begin in the next hour.
I turned the volume down when my friend gave me a ring 'I'll enter the stadium in about 20 minutes. Whom do I stalk?', she asked frantically.
Usually before an IPL match and all the excitement - by default - embedded within it starts,  most sapiens who have gone to see it ask;
'Hey, you have the camera, no?'
 'Hey honey, do you need popcorn now? I'm not getting it in the middle of the match!'
'My eye makeup is alright, no? There are cameras placing people's thopras on the big screen the entire time.'
'Soo soo kiya?'
'Whom do I stalk?' isn't a cliched, conventional or expected question to be asked before an IPL match.

'Stalk the match, silly.' I promptly replied.


'It's going to be crazy. There are match players, celebrities in the V.I.P boxes, I really don't know whom to keep my eyes on. It is like that one incident at a party, a host offered me a tray full of chocolates, there was milk,there was silk, there was guilt, there was dark, there was one with a silver mark; amidst all the guilt I was still deciding which one to choose.' she narrated like a hungry buzzing bee waiting to sting to calm itself.


'So which one did you finally pick?' I asked her.


'All' she said.


'All? You're a greedy guest.' I chuckled.


'All, in my day dream. None, in reality. The host had moved on with her treasure to the other guest who was relishing the one with the silver mark.' she said with a tone of despair. 'I don't want to end up in a similar scene today. I'm going to keep my eyes on only one person. But I don't know whom. I love all.' she added melodramatically.


Before I could talk 'Oh crap, I'm a minute away from entering. I still haven't made up my mind.' She hung up; I thought so or probably the bad signal disconnected the line.


My hyperly-over-hyper friend needed an answer, or she wouldn't be able to enjoy today's match. She had slogged for the tickets. Not to forget 'sleeplessness', 'faking excuses at work', 'screaming' garnished with 'bribing'. I would never utilize all the mentioned '....' to obtain one single piece of paper.


I called her, she wouldn't answer. 15 seconds later her text graced my phone.


'In security check. Plz text me whom to stalk.'


'You have already finished stalking. Now treat yourself by enjoying yourself.' I replied.


'Finished? Treat?' came her prompt text.


'You already stalked your aim to obtain that ticket.' I wrote back.


'You're right. It's done. The fat lady just tore it too. I'm off to enjoy the match' came her calm text.







19 Mar 2013

Stalking K



‘K’ – it bags all the privilege in the film & television industry. Call it astrology, pseudopsychology, sheer luck or mere coincidence, the letter K is auspicious for its beholders. The K serials are money minters, the people born with the K surname do hold higher brownie points for future stardom than the non-K holders, the people having had their surname changed to something from the premier K  list have earned their share of fame, awards and money from the industry.  These are facts, stated as well as observed. 

‘So are you telling me a letter can actually contribute a certain percentage to success?’ I asked one of the stars who was born with the K surname, who also coincidentally is a good friend. I’ll address him as K for now. 

‘It’s more about convincing your mind’ K told me. ‘Once your mind knows it’s a part of the K – Gang, it does feel accepted; even be it solely a connection or similarity of the surname.’ 

‘So once the mind feels accepted, it would work better towards the goal, right?’ I asked K.

‘It’s like all the ingredients are in the bowl, now you just need to make a good dish out of it.’ K told me as his phone rang. He had to leave. 

 How could a single letter motivate somebody so much towards success? After all it is said what's in a name? (I say, A LOT! But what's in a surname?) I wanted to understand more of this. I decided to go and meet an astrologer who helps K with the naming and mahurats of the films he works in. 

I finally got an appointment after a fortnight. With a lighter pocket, I asked the astrologer ‘How does the letter K contribute to the success of people in the film and television business?'

He opened his orange booklet and pointed at few geometrical figures embedded with text. ‘The planets support the letter K, and deem it as most auspicious for the people in this line.’ He told me with a smile on his face.

‘What happens to remaining twenty-five letters?’ I asked him. He removed a massive red box file. He flipped through a few pages before he continued

‘In business, it’s A, H, B.
W, K, R and J get its footage in real estate.
M, W for educational institutions.
But it is subject to change depending on various traits of the individual.’

 Here I had two viewpoints about the letter K; the astrological one and the one sans the ‘astro’ element , the logical one. I had to pick one to answer my query. You know how unanswered queries can literally haunt you and make you go restless as if a mosquito has pinged you.
I once again thought about both the viewpoints. I was stalking every word said by both – the astro and the logic. I was recollecting. I needed an answer. I decided to text K to know more about this letter game. The reply helped me place the full stop.

‘I would have been a star even if my surname didn’t bear the initial K. 
But the guy who changed his surname to bear an initial K few years back,
 is also a great star today.
Goodnight
K’

So yeah, I got my answer;
‘a letter can actually contribute a certain percentage to success, if you think it can…’
It’s not a letter game, but a hardworking mind game.