One Fleeting Moment

This one is for my friend Anoop; so here is a list of things that really annoy me:

1. The poetic license that manufacturer's of organic products seem to have which enables them to wax eloquently about the sun, moon, the gentle breeze kissing distant shores etc. etc on boxes of cereals, chips and what and what nots. Heck chips are not good for you, even if its organic and singing love songs to the organically grown corn crop will not make the chip a health food, it will just be the organic version of junk. And btw I pay more because organic food is good for the environment, not because my food had a good life before it met its end at the processing factory.

2. Middle aged people who stalk you in the frozen section aisle of the grocery store to lecture you on the benefits of joining Quickstar.

3. Self appointed brand ambassadors for India...beware at the slightest of instigations your Friendly Neighbourhood Desi (FND) will have a tendency to start mouthing things like :
a. Indians love the cow and so they will not touch beef.
b. Indian marriages do not end in divorce because they are arranged.
c. Indians don't have sex (wonder where all the babies come from!!)!! nor do they turn gay!!!
d. Indian wives cook for their husbands.
e. Indians invented the zero( this is where all conversations usually stop).
f. We Indians have an history that goes back thousands of years ( the ultimate dig!!).
And all these statements or variations thereof are usually combined with an "unlike you Americans" at some stage. If America is so horribly decadent why don't we all just stay put in our little villages and cook rice in earthern pots (the old fashioned way) and eat with our hands and feel wonderfully self righteous about it??

4. Good boys and girls. Good boys and girls don't drink, don't smoke, don't swear, don't sweat, they wear ironed clothes and have clean rooms, they go to bed early and wake up early and also tend to moralise a little too much . They make very good FND's.

5. Ty on Extreme Makeover- The Reality Show

6. Health freaks. I love my 45 minutes in the gym but I don't want to have a two hour conversation about which exercise machine to use for which set of muscles in my toes.

7. Gadget freaks...exactly how many 72" plasma screens do you need to watch your crappy reality TV show? Note : These people are very different from the cool, nerdy types who discuss stuff like this.

So much for today.Will think of some more spiteful, annoying things and post them later.

I have not been very punctual in updating this blog off late. Ages and ages ago (almost seems like another lifetime) I used to write down whatever came to my mind into a little diary. It was a daily ritual- to be performed just before going to bed. But that punctuality fell by the way once I left home for Pilani. I have barely made close to ten entries in my diary after 1997. The erratic nature of my entries may be representative of my laziness, lack of interest, busy lifestyle etc. etc. But somewhere within I do know that it is symptomatic of the convoluted, complicated lives we started living (I use “we” here deliberately). Writing a diary was no longer the simple act of putting down on paper what I did or what I thought about during the day. My day was inextricably linked with those around me and it became impossible at one point to write all the stories. I just kept collecting and storing the stories in mind. That’s probably why I have so many stories (according to Subhamoy).

Just came back from watching"A Thousand Dreams Such as These" at the DC Film Fest. It turns out that "A Thousand Dreams Such as These" is what the Film fest organisers decided to call Sudhir Mishra's latest film" Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi". I had read the reviews in The Telegraph and had dismissed it as another of those slick-commercial-but-wannabe art-housy films. The posters showing three young actors strutting thier stuff in the latest Bollywood fashion seemed to corroborate my view point. I was completely surprise by the 2.5 hour movie which followed once the lights were dimmed in the theatre. Shot as a series of love ltters between three people who are caught up in the heady ideology of their times, the film presented a very balanced view of the Naxalite movement.

Apart from the slightly anachronistic costumes ( more 90's than 70's in some places) and the fact that the what was shown as St. Stephen's College premises was more like the Hindu college premises ( how many people would actually know that), the film did create a very accurate and gritty picture of reality. And the protagonists in the film never look like they do on the publicity posters...so is this is what it takes to sell a good movie in India?? The director informed the audience during the Q and A session after the movie, that his movie was a surprise hit in India....would people still go to watch the film if the heroine was dressed in khadi saris on the posters as she is in the movie???

And before I forget, I did manage to watch " The Wild Parrots of Telegraph HIll"yesterday ...a captivating movie about a flock of wild parrots and a man who loves them. This shoe string budget movie does not have any agenda...there is no preaching about conserving the ecosystem and the planet...its just about love and finding happiness in what you do....even if it means feeding a flock of wild parrots daily for 15 years.

Labels: Cinema

Pre Sparsh- Subho got a haircut…and I had a big laugh.

Sparsh - Raj and I did not qualify for the quiz, but managed to qualify for the Antakshari. We then went on to make complete fools of ourselves in the final round. The Antardhwani program had a shaky start and was plagued with sound problems, but the audience was very supportive. Later on even Spandan had to battle with the constant feedback on the mikes.

Post Sparsh -saw the entire band and some other friends bringing the house down at College Perk. The jamming session continued till 1:00am and was very enjoyable. This was followed by dinner at Akbar’s on Sunday. A new restaurant discovered…Yippeee

The first weekend of April saw us waking up at 8:00 AM (an unearthly hour for most) and heading to the DC to check out the cherry blossoms. With our sandwiches and water bottles we were all set to enjoy the lovely blossoms along the Tidal Basin. Unfortunately a couple of thousand odd people also decided to enjoy the glorious day in exactly the same way. So we jostled with families with children, families with big dogs and children and Indian families with children (no dogs here) and parents from India in tow for some time till we settled down at the edge of the Basin and ate our sandwiches and clicked some pictures. As the crowds started growing we decided to head back home. But I have to admit the blossoms were worth the trouble.

I came in this morning and logged in, only to be told that I had 5 grace logins left and I should change my password ASAP. After barely logging 5 hours of sleep last night I was positively groggy and it took me some time to comprehend what that quivering mass of plastic and sillicone was trying to tell me. It took me even longer to come up with a password and enter it in. But no...my computer wanted an unique password which had nothing in common with my last five passwords. So some one please help me...you need to have an unique combination of letters, numbers etc. as your password which is not easily guessable. I have used up nearly all the numbers and letter combinations which would even vaguely suggest something to me....I cannot come up with more stuff. And even if I let my imagination run riot here...how does my moronic computer expect me to remember it along with passwords to my mailboxes, bank accounts, Web site accounts etc.etc...

So I watched The SpongeBob SquarePants movie again. It is hilarious, irreverent and downright juvenile. And what's more I loved it. The eponymous sponge lives in a giant pineapple in the undersea world of Bikini Bottom and is certainly not the brightest kid around. The movie revolves around SpongeBob and his dimwitted friend Patrick and their adventures as they go their merry way to find King Neptune's crown. Like all young men in adventure tales, they meet monsters and ghouls along the way, get to understand what being adult is all about and hitch a ride on David Hasselhoff's back. Finally introduced Subhamoy to my favourite Britcom -As Time Goes by. It went down rather well. Have to get myself to brush up some of my Indian history and Art type facts for the India Quiz next weekend. Raj and I have decided to participate, we should to atleast clear the semifinals.

Labels: Cinema

We have been enjoying some gloriously beautiful days. The longer day makes for woderfully rejuvenating walks along the lake. The dogwood trees are in full bloom and the crocus is peeping out too.On one of my last walks I saw a beaver (a creature I had long suspected of inhabiting the woods from the tell tale signs of gnawed tree trunks) and also befriended Toby- a huge Chesapeake Bay retriever( his owner tells me that he happens to be the State Dog of Maryland).
Yesterday after a rather harrowing experience at the rental office, Subho and I went for a walk to cool off. Met a rather slow turtle who seemed stuck in the mud. Subho thought otherwise. And usual the walk ended at the Cafe where mulled over the day's happenings while polishing off a taco salad and a quiche.
Have been reading the Azar Nafisi book called" Reading Lolita in Teheran"...it has that slightly lyrical quality about it that I often find in books written by authors from non English speaking lands. Tried watching "Ray" two days back, am yet to finish it. I really don't feel like it though. The movie just didn't get me...it just another movie about a yet another musician whose creative output was somehow linked to his narcotics/alcohol input.

This little gem was today's poem of the day from the Wondering Minstrels list serv. After reading Amlan's post about potery and maths yesterday, this seemed to fit in somehow. So here it is

"Selecting A Reader"
First, I would have her be beautiful,
and walking carefully up on my poetry
at the loneliest moment of an afternoon,
her hair still damp at the neck
from washing it. She should be wearing
a raincoat, an old one, dirty
from not having money enough for the cleaners.
She will take out her glasses, and there
in the bookstore, she will thumb
over my poems, then put the book back
up on its shelf. She will say to herself,
"For that kind of money, I can get
my raincoat cleaned." And she will.

-- Ted Kooser