In no specific order

I’m tired of media cashing on every tragedy: Every time a dog pees on a car in Delhi, a Barbie falls on the face of earth from 22^nd floor in Mumbai, a crow dumps on Mayawati (I wish) or the latest shortcut to fame – a particularly self involved kid falls in some remote unfinished bore well: its Christmas time at Aaj Tak’s office. Not just the journalist will have a ball smashing microphone at everyone’s face instead of helping, news readers will keep reminding you every 30 seconds.

I'm tired of hearing people argue about abortion, quota row, female infanticide, mercy killing and all the other bullshit that makes up the average Indian political discussion board: It’s good that you’re arguing. But just for a change have you consider listening to what people on the other side are ranting about? If you do not care for the ideas presented by the other side, why even bother participating: might as well blurt out your partisan argument to a wall. It’s not like you are helping your case by selective acknowledgement of the obvious.

I’m tired of short term memory loss: more commonly known as, oh fuck!

I’m tired of self-help authors telling me how to live MY life: You think people like to constantly frown as if someone buried their face in a 10 ft deep pit filled with cow-shit? Well for this once, try to have a look at life from their point of view. My advice to you is put your pen down and bullshit before a person who isn’t already a designated loser. You'll end up empty-handed like every other shallow idiot in the room

I'm tired of science being set back by superstition: Human Genome Project receives little-to-no government support in India because of our moronic Prime Minister's twisted religious beliefs and woeful understanding of biology. The Big Bang Experiment at NASA keeps receiving lawsuits from paranoid dimwits with a limited knowledge of Physics who think slamming a few protons together is going to destroy the universe. And this hasn't happened yet, but eventually some idiot "numerologist" is going to freak out and try to ban Calculus for fear of causing the Apocalypse. I wish I'm exaggerating.

I'm tired of people whinging that TV and movies are getting blood obsessed for them: The developers of TV also give a freebee called remote control with it and you dont have to take lessons from Mr Poirot to look for it. Try pressing that red button on top corner before crying out loud. My suggestion to you is to get a DTH and subscribe Pogo for your sorry ass. And before you walk out of your momma’s lap, please throw away your rose tinted ridiculous idea of the world and face it head on. Dodge this.

I’m tired of people blaming my music for death of their sex life: If it did, let me play a record or two of Cannibal Corpse so it ends the remote possibility of you procreating. Its not my fault that you were busy chasing butterflies when He was distributing sense, connoisseur for creativity and music, fresh unprejudiced brains, better eardrums and mojo. The gene pool you are creating is anyways a total trash and not just by Spartan standards. Your DNA is not even worth a bottle of formaldehyde. So let me start by crashing a cymbal on your head, stuffing your elephant ear in my sub woofer and disclosing the fact of your slothful penis by confronting it to nude cheerleaders.

I’m tired of people crying after 2 shots of tequila: Our own Uncle Sam made coke for kids like you and then they made Diet Coke for the fussy ones. 50% alcohol is for people who CAN handle it. How I wish your age reduce by one year every time you sulk, I’m sure it would make your case more curious than that of Benjamin Button. And I know I’m a very good person but I’m not a brother of a cry baby.

Labels: Bitching, I, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts, WTF

Few days back D was being at leisure on a scarlet lonely beach in a white shirt, really short shorts, slippers and a can of beer. She was sitting right by F who was decked in a floral tank top, red frilled skirt and bare feet with a Pinacolada in her hand. D was staring in the oblivion and F was trying to write something on the sand against the mighty waves. Dusk, wind, beach and alcohol. Girls tell each other everything, they say.

F: So what do you think of him ?

D : Him, who ?

F : You know..

D : Oh he !!

Most people think he is crazy, but I dont believe that.

I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got him all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just does not explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he is a retard, a big brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that does not have the right ring to it either.

No, it’s like there is nothing wrong with him, nothing at all - except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battle field swinging an ax, into somebody's face. Or in a Roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him...

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep !!

Snoooooooooooooze !!

F rolled over to drop a glance on her cell. 8:05 AM. Unwillingly, she picked up her toothbrush from the cup, and mumbled as she moved towards bathroom “Damn it!! I hate early morn snoozes.”

Labels: I, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts

The Hacker Manifesto

by
+++The Mentor+++
Written January 8, 1986

Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker

Damn kids. They're all alike.

But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?

I am a hacker, enter my world...

Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...

Damn underachiever. They're all alike.

I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."

Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.

I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me... Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I'm a smart ass.. Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...

Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.

And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...

Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...

You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.

This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.

Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.

I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike. Arrested after Bank Tampering"...

Labels: I, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts

DISCLAIMER: Few facts have been molded, curbed, exaggerated to spice up the story.

Scene 1: Embezzlement

“Holy Fuck” said I, jumping up from a cosy sofa of lounge at ITC Sonar Bangla when S called me up saying that we were conned and the passes we bought for the New Year bash were fake. My next reaction was – “Ha-ha!! Very funny, smart ass. Tell me where to come. In fact, please come and escort us. Over and out!!” I turned towards other four who were busy bitching about the vile traffic jams of “city of joy” and staring two hot chicks by the corridor. I reiterated S’ words and burst out laughing. But before our smiles faded, we saw all the dorks, including S coming towards us. Well, Atlas did shrug and we were conned.

The quest for dinner began.

Scene 2: The cracks of imperfect focus group

In P’s room six-seven ‘non-sceptic-fairly-optimistic-hardball-attitude’ studs sat together exploring the options which included a trip on a barge, a bar-b-que, hotel Radisson’s party and of course coveted “ITC Sonar Bangla” party. Hasty scheduling and lack of prior planning directed first two options off-stage. For remaining two, choice was not that hard to make. Monetary optimizations, ease of conveyance, brand name and most of all a miraculous discount made it quite an obvious unanimous select.

ITC it is.

Scene 3: Hysteria

No other word can describe what we witnessed at Park Street.

Post dinner, we guys turned on the damage recovery mode and decided to conclude the mishap by having a decent cup of coffee @ Park Street Barista. Little did we know that the hypothesis “’Just when you think that life can not suck anymore, a bird shits on you.’ was true.

Hooligans were erupting at Park Street. A wheelie, ugly naked dance on the middle of the street, whacky fights, drunken snotty bastards; they were all available, absolutely free of cost. But the deranged of the evening award goes to bunch of reckless boys which were coming out of a speeding car and pilling beer all over. And guess who the greatest cheerleaders were?? No points for the answer, “The ever alert Kolkata Police”.

Even guy were feeling pretty vulnerable, I couldn’t possibly fathom about the fairer sex. So amidst all the mayhem we decided to hide out in less affordable but better guarded Hotel Park.

Scene 4: The Park Scenario

Like refugees of park street frenzy, we were bestowed shelter in Hotel Park. Hell, it was crowded. Understandably we didn’t expect to get entry at any pub, disc or bar, but all we asked for was a little attitude from the coffee shop. Alas!! Lady luck was pissed with us and not just coffee shop but even the lounge was mobbed.

Drunken rabbles were everywhere, from sofa to floor, from dance floor to stairs. But the scene was in male restroom. A guy sunk in his own puke was lying unconscious. Man unleashes the beast within on special occasions, location no bar. Finally authorities called up an ambulance and the last I remember was when I saw them lifting him like a sack and taking him away.

Anyways petrified of the whole incidence and considering the safety of girls, we headed back to joka-land only to get mocked and deprecated by fellas.

Scene 5: The diamond in the coal mine

Amongst all this crazy set of events, there was a time when clock strike 12. All of us losers, how much ever I don’t want to use this word but can’t find a better fit, were sitting in Balwant ka Dhaba licking our fingers. Not that food was that delicious, but anything after such an atrocious night had to be sweet. Nevertheless, lassi was some serious gourmet shit and was designated toast for the evening. It was the most festive moment of one of the most unforgettable night of my life.

We had seen enough for the day, so thought we, before heading for a coffee.

Scene 6: Verdict

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. It may not be the way I conceptualized. But I did spend my new year with my friends; with people who mattered. Few of them were missing, but then...

This time it was different from the usual jazz. Two five stars, one dhaba, one coffee shop and countless hooligans; we did all. Its not about blame game or fault analysis, but forgetting about the sunk cost. The lassi toast, the awesome group hug, I shall never forget this New Year. :)

Labels: Bitching, I, Pet Pooja, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts, WTF

Such untainted was Amol Gupta’s effort with the script that I was overwhelmed. Simplicity and sincerity were the key ingredients of Aamir Khan’s directorial debut “Tare Zameen Par”. And during the first 15 minutes of the movie I could draw parallels with my life of all the mundane commotions of our naïve protagonist Ishaan, which by the way gave a splendid performance.

The innate similitudes took me back in time when I use to toss gazillion innovative bahanas to bunk school just for one day, pull some crazy prank, add layers of mud over me by the time I am back from school, virtually box with kids next door, run for a kite, get pampered by mom when dad was designated villain, indulge in rowdy peer comparisons, lie precariously, unleash those captive imaginations in most dilapidated manner, fancy a virtual friend, get over protective about my baby sis, get thrown out from class for every single possible reason, get notes of excellence and not-so-excellence and even worse, of disapprobation.

I did it all and I relived those moments when Ishaan did it. Its not about whether it was appropriate or not or my guilt conscious was taking command or something; it just rejuvenated those careless, or should I say apathetic days of my life. It was about the time when I used to be wacky and reckless. Thinking of consequences was not my obligation; ma-pa did that for me. All I was supposed to do was to do, do whatever I please, however I please.

The childhood that’s eroding with every passing day, was gifted back to me in those 3 hours. The genuineness of the movie was because director himself was living each of the moment with Ishaan. There is a scene, where Ishaan was getting late for school and while running for the bus, he saw a mud-hole. He jumped and splashed it all over. Now to think of it, you need to be a kid. You and I are probably too self-conscious to do something like this now, even to think of it. The scene of flipbook exposed the vulnerability of a 9 year old. A thing like this requires getting into the script, feeling the mood of the movie and most importantly pouring your heart out. Aamir did that.

The second half of the movie was even better. It strikes a chord, leaves a itch somewhere. Parents do make their child live their dream, many a times forcefully. Imaginations are curbed as we grow older. Instincts are kept at bay and materialistic results become the benchmark of life. Dreamers, by default, are labelled as losers.

This movie dares to ask why!! And such innocent, yet mature is the approach that it makes you think. It compels introspection. The impact travels from heart to brain, from emotions to thoughts.

It raises even bigger issues like why in a country like India with such a diverse population; innovation is still an occasional hunch. Why do people here make run of a mill choice and not think beyond the horizon? Why kids like Ishaan have to struggle because they dare to be Howard Roark? The flaw is inherent in us and we all are responsible shelling million kids like Ishaan.

So after all this, do I think I’ll let my kid be so independent that it exempts me from his/her every action? The answer is NO. But then that’s the discussion of some other day. This day and this post is about the movie “Taare Zameen Par”. This movie made its way in coveted “Anshul’s Fav Movie” list and I’ll ask all the readers of this blog to do yourself a favour. You owe it to Ishaan in you.

p.s. I don’t feel like discussing the acting, animation and all those things. Trust me, they were all secondary. But before I forget to mention, lyrics and music were phenomenal.

Labels: From the other side of the Lens, I, Lord's review, Memoirs, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts, WTF

So everyone is talking about how impressive Liverpool were in the Champions League game against Marseille. But does anyone realize that we lost to Reading? The fact is simple. Rafeal Benitez is not getting it right with his tinkering and priorities.

Ask any Liverpool fan and I am sure you will get the same answer. The one trophy we all want to see at Anfield come end of the season is the Barclays Premier League title. A Champions League trophy will be a great bonus but surely a club of our stature should be challenging on all fronts? So what happened at the Madejski Stadium was an absolute disgrace. The reasons are simple.

First of all, we started the game with a good first eleven consisting of Steven Gerrard and Fernando Torres. Both are amongst the world’s best in their positions so why do they only bring their ‘A’ game to the field in the big games? Time and again this season, they have shown us the amazing skills and precision they possess but does it only come in spurts? They should be playing as brilliantly as we know they can week in, week out. Not just in every alternate game or when the big games come along. Against Reading, both were off-colour and neither one seemed interested in winning it.

Are Marseille more important that Reading? No. Both are just as important and if a squad the size of two first elevens assembled through a huge financial outlay cannot handle playing two games a week, then what more do we need? Fifty men squads?

Secondly, I would like to let Benitez in on one thing. Liverpool is a club renowned all over the world for its great history and stature. Never has any Liverpool manager in our history ever dared think of conceding defeat until the final whistle goes.

And right there at the Madjeski Stadium, the much loved Liverpool club conceded defeat. Our manager took our two best players off to protect them from injury and even the most ignorant football fan could see that he decided that the game was lost and conceded defeat. It is a shame to see us giving up on a game just because our manager had his priorities elsewhere.

And finally, stop the demands for funds. Millions have been given to you these past years and you have invested on the supposed players you need to bring glory back to Anfield. Like any child would be told by a doting parent, money doesn’t fall from the skies. You need some, you earn some. In Liverpool’s case, sell the players you think are not of your standard and use that money to buy the players you want. Simple logic.

With that said, the Anfield supporters have waited long and hard for a league title. And with the amount of money thrown into buying players, it is time for us to see some results.

And just in case my stand isn’t clear enough, Liverpool never concede defeat. Not till the final whistle anyway. So wear your hearts on your sleeves and bring us that title! I believe we have what it takes to make sure the ribbons on the league trophy come end of the season will be red, red and nothing but red.

Labels: Sentiments, Soccer, Sports, Wandering Thoughts, YNWA

Ok I confess!! I am bad with kids. Bad as in real bad. Most of them would plainly refuse to come to me and if sometimes someone comes to me by mistake, the interaction is sure to end up in a saline free flow. For the clarification, by kids I mean teeny-weeny kiddo who needs to be baby talked and who can’t drink milk from glass (ok as it is a confession, I accept, for kids less than 4 years I’m devil personified). Few days back I was at my uncle’s place for 3 days and my kid cousin refused to talk to me. Poor guy started crying every time I tried to hold him. And I sat contemplating and I came up with possible reasons (I know this blog is turning out to be extremely stupid, but whatever!! My kid bro is afraid of me and didn’t talk to me at all. I’m sad)

1) My size/voice: With my 185cm+ and 90kgs+ built I’m like Gulliver for the Lilliputian kids. And for the lazy bastard I am I refuse to shave daily (ok it’s a weekly thing for me) and I get scarier everyday. And my loud voice does the remaining damage to my reputation. I’m like a living monster. I’m like one of those fantasy devils which moms use to scare kids. But then this part is not under my control. Genetic faults, I would say.

2) Cant baby-talk: I claim to be very creative and a blabber-mouth. But when it comes to kids, I can’t talk for more than a second. I’ve realized that my monologue skills are directly proportional to size of the person.

3) Scared of kids: As embarrassed I am to accept it, it is a fact. I’m extremely scared of them especially when they curl in my arms. I think they are fragile and I’ll end up doing some harm. And even more than that, I can’t see a kid crying. My aunt kept on saying, let him cry for a minute but take him out and he will become ok. But no thank-you!! I’m scared of crying babies.

I guess I have to wait for another 3 years before I could properly talk to my bro. But only saving grace is my kid sis who found her new best friend in me. Yaaayyy!! We had so much fun together. And my entire family was, OMG!! A kid with bi2. It’s worth a foto. :D

p.s. happy first birthday Yash!! Love you bro. :)

Labels: I, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts, WTF

Up thr "Reds"






When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the Storm there's a golden sky
And the sweet, silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone.
You'll never walk alone.

Labels: Sentiments, Soccer, Sports, Yaaaaayyyyyyyyyy, YNWA

when ppl say, He does not perform under pressure and He should be like Ponting who raise His level during crunch situation and sails his team through, i confess my temperature rises by 100%. people just do not see the facts and start criticising. WTF..just a quntitative analysis will prove the otherwise.

wat is a crucial match..for sake of simplicity we will stick to worldcup matches and finals of tri-series..and from india's perspective every match against australia.

worldcup : i dont think anyone can even dream of comparing His worldcup stats with anyone else. they complain that He didnt perform in last worldcup final. wat do they expect out of Him ? He scored more than 650 runs alone..was the sole reason your team reached the final..and now He didnt perform in one match, they are ready to rip His balls apart. its more than unfair. and punter has just reached 1000 runs mark in worldcup though he has played almost as many games while He is in league of his own, 1700+ runs. He got out in 90s three time, which is more than enough to proves how selfless His game is. and most impressive performance was His innings of 94 against pakistan last year. with strike rate of 175, He almost single handedly demolished the pakistan pace trio (wasim, waqar, shoaib)

His record against autralia is imperious, with average more than 48 and strike rate of 90+, its almost a miracle. only failure is against against proteas with a meager average of 27. But whatever, You are my God !!

Happy birthday :)

Labels: Cricket, Sentiments, Sports, Yaaaaayyyyyyyyyy

Bye bye Lara...to one of the greatest test batsman ever. i will always remember that knock of 400, your respect for sachin, keeper of once great windies team, and your sexy "crouch-crouch-crouch-up-BANG" stance.

Labels: Adieu, Cricket, Sentiments, Sports

i have a threshhold, i have a fucking threshold. i might burst. i might do a "rang de basanti"

Labels: Death, Sentiments, WTF

These days I’m extremely pissed with the attitude of Indian press in general and news channels in particular. Their capitalistic tendencies are on a roll and moral responsibilities are going down the drain. The urge to be different and fast is so high that sometimes that at times facts are deformed and truth is compromised. The condition so arrived is due to moronic internal competition between media. Every senseless piece of news is covered by every channel and no one has any resources and means to find out the reliability and authenticity of it.

The competition is so huge between them that they will not hesitate even for a moment to pull a live-wire, not giving a damn about the emotions and sentiments attached with it. The sensitivity of any issue is cashed to attract more viewership and rules are bend to spice up the story.

They say, people are more aware these days because all these news channels. And it’s due to channels like these; people who are looking for instant fame do not mind doing something otherwise stupid. Public here is idiot and jobless, and certainly not shy of wasting time on streets holding placards saying “hai hai” and murdabaad”. Rationality is alien to them.

And a lot of times I feel that most of these processions and burning effigies by mob, is more of a drama in front of lens where everything from script to screenplay to sets are provided by these TRP pimps. Because my senses do not allow me to chew the fact that people enraged by dismal performances of Indian cricket team or Rakhi Sawant kiss while taking out procession will be intimidated by the fact that they are on TV and so they’ll put their laughing face forward. Yes, I have seen people in mob laughing and getting thrilled to be on TV. But then that’s my view.

1) Prince scenario: about a year back, this little kid named prince fell into a dig hole near Ghaziabad. Now instantly it became“breaking news” for the entire media industry and in a flash that whole place was packed millions of cameras and reporters. Almost every thing was given a major hype and the kid was already a national hero, even before he came out of the pit. And since then I have seen more than ten similar instances in different part of the country. Are kids in this country all of a sudden become so self-involved that they have stopped seeing the pits on the street? Or is it a shortcut to instant stardom to a lot people? May be it is!!

2) Cricket Reviews: zee news takes the crown in worst review. I believe my knowledge in cricket is damn good and I can analyze the game. It just takes one match to monkey flip the image of the entire cricket team. Being hero to zero is matter of just eight hours. All the comments on TV seem to be rigged and highly manipulated. And if sometimes some sense is being talked, they will do their best to go off air with some ad and eventually put “breaking news” forward. This is one conversation I saw on Headlines Today with Kapil Dev about retirement of Sachin.

Rep: Kapil da, don’t you think Sachin is performing exceptionally bad in recent times and it is high time that he should pack his bags.
Kapil: Sachin is the greatest player this country has ever produced and I feel, better than you and me he knows his game. And he certainly is not the kind of player who will put his personal interests above team’s interest. So I feel it is best for him to decide whether he should or should not retire. If he feels he is not good anymore then he will voluntarily take retirement.
Rep: So you agree that even Sachin knows that is not good any more and he should take retirement.
Kapil: no, that’s not what I said. I said if he feels….
Rep: So now you guys have seen even legendary Kapil Dev thinks Sachin should retire.
Kapil: you are getting it all wrong…..
Rep: We will continue this discussion with Kapil Dev after the break. Please do not touch the remote.

And in split second, in font size 24, appears “Breaking News: Kapil thinks Sachin should retire.”

3) Shilpa – Gere Kiss: This is the latest one. In an AIDS awareness program for the truck drivers, organizers were cashing the new found global fame of Shilpa Shetty and Richard Gere, whose love for India is pretty well-known. Now Shilpa gave a beautiful introduction of Richard and overwhelmed (I’m not sure what took him overboard, either looks of her or the introduction) Mr. Gere expressed his gratitude with a bit excess of PDA. Now people were stunned and so was Shilpa, but she made it clear that she was neither offended not appalled. Even her mom was ok.

But this little mis-adventure was a hot story for the Indian media and they were moved by their love for Indian culture and how a “firang” is flirting with it. Images were shown on all the news channels as “breaking news” and all the “vella junta” in the country was given a reason to take another procession. Entire country was opposing the “move” of Mr. Gere, so said the news channel. They say, he has no right to misbehave and un-dignify an Indian actress and he should apologize pronto.

What I fail to understand is why are these news channels are trying to be the keeper of Indian culture. I’m sure that Shilpa is mature enough to know how to maintain her dignity and with the type of publicity she is getting these days throughout, she would be well aware of the image she is projecting. Media is trying to make a fool out of themselves, and certainly portraying as a stupid bunch of dorks trying to raise TRP by making an entire half an hour of program on this shit.

4) DPS mms: This incident takes the last piece of the brownie. This is the height of irresponsibility and utter non-sense. I guess everyone know about the incident. Two kids of RK-puram were having “fun” and the guy made a video clip of it on his cell. And in sometime this clip was floating on the internet and was one of most searched voyeur clip globally.

Eventually media came to know about it and suddenly it was the hottest topic and of course “breaking news”. People were infuriated and parents worried. But that’s not the point. The point here is crassness of the media. By the time news leaked to all these channels, the clip was seen by a lot of people, but it still was less than 0.01% of Indian population (I guess). Now these intellectually challenged news channels and their “country-should-know” philosophy compelled them to show the entire clip on TV, saying that this is what was in the clip (they blurred the images of course). So what was seen by a minority is now seen by the entire nation.

I really was pissed with this bullshit. Height of stupidity. I really can’t understand what they have achieved out of this, except for sensationalizing the issue. But they made the life of that girl and that guy living hell.

But whatever, media is eating up the democracy. In wake of fundamental rights they are mocking the entire system. Sometimes I feel these people do not deserve to have freedom of speech, and it should be revoked until they get some sense. Such an irresponsible media should be banned forever. If not a ban, some filter has to be installed or sense has to be instilled.

Labels: Bitching, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts

Last Night, I was watching Pulp Fiction again and suddenly this thought of plagiarism crept into my head. Some call it “influence”, which is an overused politically correct synonym for it.

I was thinking about what Jules say before killing a person. He recites a line from bible, Ezekiel 25:17. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee." And quite similar to this is what Joker says in the movie Batman, before killing anyone. "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?”


Is this an influence? May be it is. By any rationale, I won’t go too far to say it is a theft.

What about the un-avoidable similarities in Reservoir Dogs and City on Fire? Quentin Tarantino has told in a million interviews that he was heavily inspired by the Hong Kong film and he has almost copied shot-by-shot the end of Reservoir Dogs, i.e. the Mexican standoff. But then he is probably the only director/writer to admit such a thing blatantly. He scores for accepting truth gracefully

I really don’t know where the thin line between “homage” and a nonchalant “copy-paste” lies?

Labels: From the other side of the Lens, Sentiments, Wandering Thoughts

meet kalu.

he lives in suburbs of pune. he is 12 year old, though u cant make it out from the way he talks. he is polite, gentle and very mature. his family on paper is a pernnially sick mother, and a cute sis who is 8 yrs old. his dad was a rickshw puller, who died 3 years back in an accident.

he studies in 5th grade and his sis in 1st. he used to work at sweets shop of bhola guru during evening hours. guru was really nice to him, and besides daily wages, he also help kalu by giving him books, clothes and medicines for his mother.

this was kalu 4 weeks back. happy and satisfied. but now, he is not going to school, because he has to spend time on signals and beg for money. thnx to the ban on child labour. the law just managed to blow his self-respect.

Labels: Bitching, Sentiments

i was googling today and came across this piece of news. and i am shocked to the core. male dominated society is one thing, but this time the limits have been crossed.

this news is about a 11 yr old girl in pakistan who is frequently being used by her father and her frnds, to have some "fun" with a young girl.her mom knows about it but she prefer to keep it to herself. frustated and wrecked, that girl runs away. police get hold of her, so poor girl tells them about those horrible incidents and her mom testifies it. but wat followed next, can only be happen in a land where morality is unheard of.

the law states, unless a girl can produce "4 male muslim witness" as a proof of being raped, she will be convicted for adultery. and harsh hudood laws make sure that extra marital affiars are dealt strictly. and ofcourse a woman's testimony carries no weightage, even if she is muslim.i dont know wat hurts me more : producing "4 male muslim witness" or idea of producing witness and not relying on DNA tests and all.

rape is a mental trauma that cant be described in words. but in pakistan trauma does not end after getting physically and mentally molested. you try to seek for justice and this time law makes a mockery of your appeal. you will be charged of getting indulged in a sexual extravagenza and raising a finger towards rapist, finally you end up in jail.

bravo !!

is thr anyone out thr to listen to all those poor gurls who are being used merely as sex toys, for which one dont even have to buy a ticket to get a ride. they talk about human rights. why the hell are they are not speaking on this matter. and this is just one case that came into highlight, but wat about million other girls. rape by father !!! no punishment will be enough for such a crime. cha !!

i rememebr seeing a video involving penectomy for a rapist in iraq. i guess anything less than that is not justice. for a crime as hideous as this one, capitol punishment is not enough. just chop of his source of so-called "manhood". may be it is strict and extremly inhuman, but i will stand for it. the punishment should be so hard that even thought should send shivers in the spines of every man trying to have some "fun".

fuck these laws and fuck you prez.

Labels: Bitching, Sentiments

recently in madrid fashion week, a russian model fainted on ramp and collapsed later. they say she was living on green leaves and diet coke for past few months. all in attempt to be a skinny, HOT model. and she paid for it dearly. models have to undergo enourmopus stress both mentally and physically before every ramp performance.and with event like MFW which is considered to be one of the most profilic one(comes only after paris, milan, ny ), schedules are obviously hectic, deadlines are stringent and expectations are higher. its not easy to cope up with all this pressure along with working for like 15 hrs a day on a meager diet.

so wat is it that a lot of girls compromise on diet to get a pencil slim body ?? is being fit is not in anymore ?? and who says being skinny is being sexy ??

i guess a fat ass like me will never understand.

Labels: Bitching, Sentiments

"The dress she wears on the tennis courts not only doesn't cover large parts of her body but leaves nothing to the imagination. She will undoubtedly be a corrupting influence on these young women, which we want to prevent."


said,Haseeb-ul-hasan Siddiqui, a leading cleric of the Muslim organization the Sunni Ulema Board.

I pity this bearded mullah, if thats all he imagine a gurl to possess. Ever since she landed up in pro tennis world, this audacious saucy hyd based lassy has topped the hit list of these conservative people.These bastards, have nothing more to do, but love to see thr non-sense faces on stupid box.a spy cam cud well reveal, how much they care bout islam.

another one,

"You can wear an outfit where your body is not shown. Tennis is played by hands, it's not necessary to show your body. You are making India proud, but bringing shame to Islam"

oh nice, so what do you expect her to wear, a burka !! Oh come on, next they'll say, its a shame on her to step outside her home, but she should remain in thr and help her mother fix mutton biryanbi for all of them.

But to my utter surprise, the ladies supported her decision, which i think is partially a way to vent out thier rebeleous self.I couldn't agree more to them, when they consider teen sensation, as an idol.She made this sport, what leander paes and bhupathi couln't make even after winning medals at olympics and even wimbledon, atleast in india.

But what actually pissed me off, was the statements people gave in her support.Some say, its a requirement of the game, and you just cant play without being dressed like tht.

What the fuck !! . Havent they ever wondered why no one ever saw, underpants of Roger Federer, while he is serving. Thats because , he wear shorts.And i cant figure out any valid reason, to assume ,wearing shorts is affecting his game, or as a matter of fact, game of any top notch male player.

So why not a female tennis player play the game wearing a short, while a male player can,and better than most of them.Glamour is also one of the driving force, in ladies tennis, and better they accept it freely. Its been hailed by russian barbie dolls with racquets, and its high time, indians too should accept it.

Men are physically more powerful, as nature intended them to be, and this makes thr game faster, and more fun to watch. But female tennis, is never so fast*william sisters are not female*, so never much exciting. And sex appeal, always is an integral part of femmes, so why not in tennis.Girls are naturally more fashion conscious than man, no one could aegue upon that.

I wanted Sania to say,"You all enjoy, watching mallika sherawat, dancing in bikini, but cant appreciate, me winnning, few grandslam matches. And i am not specially provocative, but lives with a fashion at par.Female tennis player are fashion conscious, and so am i.If its still a problem, i cant help it."

And deep in thr heart, all gurls want man to appreciate them, lure them.Its a matter of courage, who accepts it. You do it, missy. That i feel, will put a full stop on all the allegations.

All the best for your future, this country expects a lot from you.

And "She is cute, no shit" ;)

Labels: Bitching, Sentiments, Sports, Tennis

this is one of my fav. ghazal.

Dikhayi diye yun ke bekhud kiya
Hamey aap se bhi juda kar chale

Jabeen sajda karte hi, karte gayi
Haq-e-bandagi hum ada kar chale

Parastish ki aadat ke aye buth tujhe
Nazar mai sabhon ko khuda kar chale

Bohat arzoo thi, gali ki teri
So yahan se lahoo mai naha kar chale

Dikhayi diye yun ke bekhud kiya
Hamey aap se bhi juda kar chale


p.s.
in case thrs some problem understanding urdu..try this urdu dictionary
urdu dictionary

Labels: Poetry, Sentiments, Strings and Drums

rajnikant, mithun are not alone anymore....
if rambo can fight 100 ppl,all alone..
our transporter (2)too can...
this movie is just an picturization of thoughts..wat mithun da..
ever forgot/was unable to bring out in his movies..
all laws of motion and gravity are being drained to gutter.
and on tht crap graphics of aeroplane..
i m sure..many of u can do better stuff on photoshop to give me a better air-plane.
and yeah how can i forget..how many times..this guy..
tried to copy agent smith and neo as well
(when he jumps from the building..and fight wid the rod).

but yeah..movie has some..no just one good stuff..
its background music..it was fast and hard hitting..
and nicely edited according to action sequences..
which to some extent may impress many ppl out thr.

but you cant just watch a movie..wid zero story,
poor direction and practically no scope of acting.
but..if u like mithun da's extra-terrestrial stunts,
like to see ur protagonist moving much faster thn bullets of fully-automatic gun,
if u fancy two man fighting to shake an air plane,
and are fan of unrealistic fight sequnce..
in which bullets virtually mutilate everything around but hero.
then..my frnd..this is "the" movie for u..
dont waste time anymore..and rush to ur nearest cinema.

Labels: Bitching, Lord's review, Sentiments