A PUFF OF SMOKE!!

Jesus!! I wanna write something...I wanna write something so bad. I have so much to say and yet it all seems so irrelevant. Will anybody even listen to what I have to say? Does anybody actually give a damn about whats written in a stupid blog by some random college student? There are millions of bloggers out there like me-writing down their damn philosphies, their thoughts and their opinions-hoping just like me...that it would make a difference. So what makes me so damn different from the rest of them? It doesn't. And I am aware of that fact. Yet-more than anything else, this is a place to vent out my frustration on the absuridty of it all. I sit here in my damn flat, on a lenovo laptop, listening to my favorite tracks on Intex speakers while wondering about what to do with the rest of the evening and yet I write about the problems that the world is facing. Fuck-do I even know what's wrong with the world? Am I even completely aware of what prolems this world actually faces. For Pete's sake-I ain't even completely aware of what's wrong with me and I have set out to improve the world. Fuck me! 

I know what you are thinking-whats got into me all of a sudden? Why am I so frustrated? Well-I am frustrated. I don't really know at what, probably at myself and so I am gonna write some crazy stuff, a whole load of bullshit for you to read and then walk out of here and smoke a Dunhill. Funny, isn't it? As soon as I write a deeply touching and emotional post trying to prick people's conscience, I go out and smoke a cigaratte. Oh wait-you wanna make it poetic? Then I blow away my problems with a puff of smoke. LOL!! What kinda fucked up philosphy is that? I mean how on earth are you blowing away your problems or anybody else's for that matter by inhaling smoke into your fucking lungs. Jesus-the absurdity of it all!!

So there I was at a grocery store yesterday asking for my share of cigarattes for the day.  Now as I reached the store-I saw a bit of a peculiar sight. A family was standing there-with 2 kids about the age of 5 in tow.  Usually I wouldn't really care-but seeing those 2 kids I stopped. I didn't want to buy a packet of smokes in front of kids for how much ever we may want to avoid the fact-the truth is we do influence the kids. Even those whom we don't know. For that's how we start smoking in the first place-dont't we? For I too was an impressionable kid once and I remember vividly seeing actors smoke in Hindi films and imagining how cool it would be to smoke.  My grandfather used to smoke too and that too, perhaps subconsciously, had a huge influence on me for picking up cigarattes. I knew from the age of 8 that one day I was going to smoke. The sight of a cigaratte being lighted somehow always enchanted me and for me there was nothing more cooler than lighting a cigaratte followed by that puff of smoke coming from the mouth. It almost seemed magic.  And since no one would give me a cigartte then, I would take pens and imagining them to be cigarattes I would act as if I was lighting one. Oh-the glory of it all.  Finally-at the age of 13, I decided I was old enough to smoke. So one fine day I left the house, went to the nearyby paan shop and asked for a cigaratte. The paanwaala didn't even blink once. I guess I wasn't the first 13 year old to ask for a cigaratte. Though I do hope I was the last one. I placed the cigaratte on the tips of my lips as I had seen so many actors do before, took a lighter hanging on a pole at the paan shop and lighted the cigaratte. I felt like I was Shah Rukh Khan of Baazigar who could beat up a 100 guys and throw a girl off the roof. I felt like a bad boy and man-it felt good. If only I was on a terrace with a girl. I swear to God I would have thrown her off just for the thrill! That would make me a complete anti-hero. That would complete my glory. That would have made me Baazigar. 

And so started my foray into the world of smokers. Inititally I would cough like mad but then some of my older friends taught me the skills of a good smoker and just like that, my lungs got used to the smoke. I know-I made it sound like I am very proud of it. But the truth is-at that time I was. At that time smoking gave me a high. Like I was one of those heroes on the screen that I wished to emulate but never could. It made me feel closer to the world I loved-Bollywood. 

And no-I am not proud of it anymore.  I wish I had never liked Shah Rukh Khan in Baazigar so much. I wish I had never ventured out to that Paan shop 8 years ago and asked for a cigaratte.  I wish the paan waala had been shocked at my daring and had slapped me across my face and sent me back home crying. I really wish I had never touched a cigaratte in my life. But then we all wish to change somethings from our past but never can. The past can't be undone. Once the act has been committed, your conscience, however hard you try, cannot escape it. So it was with me.

The point here is that all of us pick a bad habit because someone else influences us when we were younger. We see college students or actors, whom we all aspire to be one day, and seeing them have such fun in lighting a cigaratte or opening a can of beer, we too feel how cool it would we be if we could follow them. For me-it was the world of Bollywood that attracted me. For someone else there could be a different reason. But there will be a reason. Unfortunatalely.

Those 5 year old kids-had they seen me buying a cigaratte that day and light it, might have been attracted by that strange white cylindrical piece of paper and wondered how is it that when you light it-it didn't burn but instead people actually inhaled its smoke. Maybe those kids would have found it attractive and felt a desire inside them to find out how exactly it works. To get a kick out of it. And 8 years later, just like I had, they too would venture across to that paan shop and asked for a cigaratte. And so another vicious cycle would begin. I know I can't do much to stop this cycle. But the least I can do is not be "that" influence to the little kid looking upto me and wondering how cool it would ne when he could go to college, light a cigaratte and see that puff of smoke form out of his mouth.

DAMN! I NEED A DUNHILL NOW!!

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MORALITY: AN AMBIGUITY!!

I have to admit that the following post has been inspired by some one Else's writing. Who actually had been inspired by my own writing. Or so I would like to believe. Nevertheless-now that we have the formalities out of the way...lets begin!!

Perhaps no where else has the term morality been provoking so many debates as it has in our country. Yes-it's mostly a youth centric debate for the older generation still continues to believe in the age old traditions and their arguments are often met a with a response of 'generation gap' by us. Yet what you cannot ignore is when people of your very own age group defines morality in a diametrically opposite sense to yours, then it stirs up a hornet's nest and a never ending debate rages on.

I have a feeling I know who is going to win in this debate. In almost every generation, the modernists have come out triumphs. Yes-the traditionalists might have put up brave resistance but that resistance has mostly been futile and with each generation what we have is that the definition of morality gets more and more ambiguous. You can spin your own take on morality and give it as your definition and we won't be able to prove if it is right or wrong.

Let's face it-the debate 25 years ago was whether it was alright to have a love marriage, to go against the norms of that time and fall in love with a boy before marriage but today that debate, though still existent in the rural parts of the country, has almost ended and a new set of ethics are being debated on. Today the question isn't if you can have a relationship before marriage but whether you can indulge in pre marital sex. Here I will have to say that this debate is mostly dominant in the urban youth of India or to make it more specific-the upper middle class urban youth. The rich and elite clearly don't believe in making a fuss about sex anymore or else Salman Khan wouldn't be single at the age of 44 despite Aishwariya Rai's claims that kissing before marriage is not allowed in our customs. Customs has almost become a funny word these days.

The middle class is still grappling with the issues of mini skirts and spaghetti tops but its the upper middle class India-that great and privileged stoica of humdingers that I belong to, whose sense of morality has got confounded in the influence of the west and our own traditional values. You can't exactly blame them. If your parents were to narrate you about how they met each other the first time while going to college in a BEST bus and eventually went on to fall in love and defy their grandparents for a love marriage then you are bound to think along the same lines as well-'25 years go my parents did what they thought was right. Today how can they deny me from making that same judgement? Who are they to deny me from sleeping with the person I love. 25 years ago love marriage was taboo and my parents went ahead with it because they thought there was nothing wrong with it. But now they are stifling me with their own set of traditions and rules. They have no right to make such a judgement.' You can understand where the confusion stems from. So probably in about another 25 years, pre marital sex and live in relationships will not be taboo or looked down in our society anymore yet as per the norms we'll be embroiled in another raging debate about some other morality or ethical issue regarding the society.

The argument though here is an altogether different one. I have for sometime now held the belief that the issue is no longer about who is right or who is wrong. I believe that every person has a set of moral values, a set of things they believe in as they seem fit and it doesn't make me any more right or wrong than say some other person whose set of moral values are different from mine. Morals pertaining to society of course. Criminal offences do not come under these set of moral values. You can accuse me of taking the easier way out, of lacking a backbone but then I never said I don't have convictions. I am just saying that my convictions don't necessarily make me a higher or more open minded or close minded person than someone whose convictions are different from mine.

Yet there are people who continue to believe that their own set of moral codes are right and anything opposing it makes them certain to burn in the fires of hell. Or to put it in a little more milder term-who believe that any view opposing theirs is wrong. These are the people who are convinced that pre marital sex is wrong and that live in relationship is nothing but the devils home where morals have long gone for a toss. Probably all true but then my simple question is-have they looked at themselves? The upper middle class youth who talk about sex being sacred and saving it for marriage often talk about the great traditions and customs of our country as their natural defense. For example lets say a group of friends are sitting in a disc and an argument starts up on pre marital sex between them. A girl in the group insists that it is wrong for it goes against the traditions of our forefathers. Do you see the irony here? If you don't then let me point it out to you-this girl is sitting in a disc, dancing herself to glory with the boys, probably had one shot of tequila and is talking about the traditions of her forefathers. If the irony was to be complete then she would probably be sitting in a mini skirt and sleeveless top to boot. Now don't call me a sexist but this is exactly what happens.

But then people would argue that there's nothing wrong with wearing a mini-skirt or sleeveless tops anymore. Or if she isn't dressed in a mini skirt then she must be wearing tees and jeans and surely there's nothing wrong with wearing tees and jeans. I of course completely agree. I never said there's anything wrong with girls dressed in mini skirts or spaghetti tops or hot pants. Heck-I don't mind if you wear a bikini. Dress as you please. If you are comfortable in a salwar kameez-please do so. It its mini skirts that you like then its your choice. I have nothing to do with it and I am no one to stop you or pass judgement on you for it.

The issue though persists. What I was simply pointing out was that the part of the youth that talks about pre marital sex and live in relationships being taboo does dress up in mini skirts or provocative clothing if that's how you want to define it(only girls of course), make out with their boy friends/girlfriends, dance with the opposite sex at parties where they often drink together and fight the Shiv Sena for their stand on Valentine's Day. All the above mentioned things have at some point or the other been against our moral codes and definitely against the great custom and traditions of India. If you really believe that pre marital sex is against your traditions then you must be aware that so is kissing your lover or for that matter wearing mini skirts. Heck-once upon a time even love marriages were against our tradition. If you believe that those
issues are no longer withstanding and there's nothing wrong with them-then who are you to tell that live in relationships goes against the very seed on which the values of our country is based on. I guess people who live in glass houses should not throw stones eh?

So what makes issues that were wrong yesterday, right today? I'll tell you what. Parents. 25 years ago our parents were fighting their parents to be able to go to parties and wear tees and jeans and convince them that one can't marry without being in love. Today that very youth of India has now become the older generation and hence they see nothing wrong with the issues that they were fighting for themselves. 25 years hence the cycle will repeat. As we become the older generation of the country, we won't see anything wrong with our children living with their boyfriends or girlfriends before marriage and probably having a child out of wedlock as well. Its a vicious cycle and one that will never stop.

I know I will probably get a lot of brickbats for this. But the issue exists and you can't deny it. Everyone has their own definition of the great Indian tradition today and manipulates it as they deem fit. Rakhi Sawant claims on a news channel that she being an Indian woman can be kissed on the cheek by any random man but not on the lips. Which is very commonplace of course. But what I want to ask is-which rule book says that it's alright to kiss an Indian woman on her cheeks but not on her lips? Which rulebook says that a girl can dress in tees and jeans but you can't in mini skirts? Or for that matter dress up in a mini skirt but not swim in a bikini? Which rule book says that a girl can make out with her boyfriend all she wants but she should not sleep with him before marriage for it goes against our "great Indian tradition?" We have been setting and breaking our own moral codes for ages now. So much so that I no longer believe in things that are right or wrong when it comes to traditional values. There are simply things that you believe in and you don't. Don't try defending your feeble moral stand on the basis of Indian culture or religious values. For if you do, then you have lost that debate even before it has begun. People will simply tear you apart. As I said, there are just things that you believe in and things you don't believe in. Indian culture had gone to the dogs a long time ago. The dogs being us of course!!

PEOPLE LIVING IN GLASS HOUSES SHOULD NOT THROW STONES!!!

JAANE TU YA JAANE NAA: MOVIE REVIEW!!

Take a bow Abbas Tyrewaala-take a bow. You haven't just made a feel good movie, you have made a move which makes us believe in love all over again. Imtiaz Ali did that with Jab We Met last year but yours I believe is still a bigger feat to achieve-for there's nothing new in your script- it's just your treatment and the perfect casting that takes Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Naa to an altogether different level of stratosphere. If there's one movie other than Dil Chahta Hai that's captured the urban metroplis gang of youthful friends so wonderfully, then this is it. Ofcorse while the friendship in DCH played a much more important role, in JTYJN it's more of the tadka-the spice that this movie requires to help the main love story reach its natural conclusion.

The story couldn't be simpler-the execution couldn't better.

Right from the first shot Abbas Tyrewaala takes us into the world of this youthful bunch of friends as they sing Jaane Tu Yaa Jaane Naa(the old one) to a hapless Mala(Renuka Kunzru) who isn't part of this gang yet and hence doesnot understand the significance of the song. Ofcorse it doesn't take long for her to realize-infact 2 hours 45 minutes, the same time it takes us. And in those 2 hours 45 minutes what you get is a beautiful and simple tale told in such a refreshing manner that no one will ever again dare say that cliched love stories don't work anymore. They do, if you know how to tell the story in a novel manner. What Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na makes us realise is that you don't need a 50 crore budget, super cool special effects and a sci fi love story to make a succesful movie(Yeah, I am takig a dig at that other other dull and drab of a movie that released this weekend). All you need is a fine story teller. Harry Baweja-who has been directing movies forever might want to take a few tips from Abbas Tyrewaala here. And Aamir Khan, the producer of the movie.

The story? Ha-don't make me laugh. You really shouldn't care about the story here. Its as cliched and downtrodden as all those masala hindi movies you saw in the 80's. There's nothing novel here-so save it. This movie is one to be experienced, not to be heard. Telling you anything about the plot will spoil the fun. Nevertheless I'll give you the gist of it. Jai(Imran Khan) and Aditi(Genelia D'Souza) are unseparable friends. Everyone-from their friends to their parents believe that they are made for each other. Except ofcorse-they themselves. They are too absorbed in their friendship to notice what has been brewing for so long-that they can't live without each other. And this realization of their undying love for each other is basically what forms the plot of the movie. Told you-nothing exciting there. But watching this simplest of plots unfold on screen is an altogether different experience.

Natural is the keyword here. Nothing is forced or out of the ordinary. The dialogues come out as if we would be saying them to our friends or parents on an everyday basis, the scenes flow as if straight from our lives, the characters as if they were our friends. And the one time that this move does take the downtrodden path, it steals the show. The climax is so cliched and done to death in numerous movies, but then you have to realize that Abbas Tyrewaala does it on purpose-because he believes that for a tale so ordinary, only a climax so completely out of the ordinary would be befitting. And as Jai gallops across the city, racing against time to stop the love of his life from leaving his life and finally declare what had been so obvious right from the beginning, we too race with him-our hearts in our mouths and cheering Jai on to stop Aditi and tell her what we have known from the beginning-that he loves her and that there could have been no one else. We know he will make it, we know they will live happily ever after and we know exactly how all of this is going to unfold but we just can't help but feel our heart beats racing at an abnormal pace as Jai runs out of time. For if he doesn't make it, then there could be no bigger tragedy on earth. We so want them to be together that we forget that this is just a movie.

A R Rahman's youthful music only adds to the experience. 'Kabhi Kabhi Aditi and Pappu Can't Dance Saala' add spice to the zany proceedings on screen. 'Nazrein Milaana....Nazrein Churaana' comes at the apt time as it takes the narrative forward. And it is wonderfully picturized. 'Kahi To Hogi Woh Duniya' is such a heart breaking song, it's worth listening to again and again.

Rajeev Soorti's cinematography is rivetting. The dialogues are so completely natural and the screen play rock solid. And in all this Aamir Khan has a hand. Without a doubt he's setting the benchmark for the rest of the production houses in India to follow. 3 movies and all 3 have been memorable to say the least. Aamir has been known for excellence for quite a while but Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Naa wil take it to an altogether different level. For this isn't an Aamir Khan type of movie. Far from it. Yet only he could have seen the potential in the screenplay.

Of the supporting cast-whom can you single out for praise? Is it Ratna Pathak Shah who as Jai's mother seems so beautifully natural that everything else around her just crumbles. Whether it be in the scene where a crying Aditi realizes that her college life is over and wonders where did they go and she effortlessly replies-'Phone pe beta. Phone pe' or the scene where she sees her son Jai galloping on a horse and when her friend asks her-'Isn't that your son?', she so cooly replies-'Nahi, ye mere pati ka beta hai,' Ratna Pathak just seems completely at ease. Or is it Prateik Babber as the angst ridden and mature brother of Aditi? Watch him as he explains to his sister why they don't seem to be friends anymore or later when he explains to her why she can't live without Jai. He is the conscience of the movie, the one misunderstood character whom we somehow understand so well. Or is it Manjira Phadnis as Jai's girlfriend who is just so beautiful and innocent that you really want to live in her world forever. You feel sorry for her as you know she won't get the man she loves although it's no fault of hers. Watch her as she explains why she has turned a blind eye to her parents fighting and you somewhere in you heart you would wish that she too gets her happy ending. I still do. Rajat Kapoor in just one scene is absolutely rivetting. The four friends-Alishka Varde as the slow Bombs, Karan Makhija as the pessimistic Rotlu, Sudhan Garg as the ever optimistic and carefree Shaleen are all fantastic additions to a great cast, although Nirav Mehta as Jiggy undoubtedly steals the show among the friends. Paresh Rawal, for once doing a non-Priyadarshan movie, is absolutely hilarious. He's so mean that he's funny. And that says it all. Ayaz Khan as Aditi's fiance makes a strong impact although you do feel that he's a bit old for the absolutely ravishing Genelia.

There are also 3 fantastic cameos in the movie, each one standing out on their own. The desi cowboy brothers act by Arbaaz and Sohail Khan will have you rolling on the ground with laughter. While Naseruddin Shah, he just seems to be so busy enjoying himself that he doesn't even notice that he might have pulled out the best performance of the movie. And that's no mean feat in a movie where not even one casting seems to have gone wrong. In fact-let me just say this-I haven't seen a better ensembled cast in a hindi movie in ages. Hats off to the casting director-Pakhi.

As for the lead pair, you can't help but fall hopelessly in love with them. Genelia D'Souza as the eccentric, fiery cat-like yet sweet Aditi is absolutely fantastic. As Abbas Tyrewaala said in an interview-the camera loves the girl. And so do we. You wonder where has she been for so long? Why couldn't other directors see in her what Abbas saw? She really is the spark of the movie, the one to whom you keep coming back when things start to get heavy and everytime she comes on screen, you fall in love with her all over again. The climax works because you are so hopelessly in love with her that you know that you would do the same for her. Whether it be the scene in which she very rudely reminds Jai that hanging out with her isn't some sort of duty or the scene where she breaks down and admits to her fiance that she is indeed in love with Jai, she lights up the screen like she owns it. Hopefully we would be seeing much more of her from now on.

Imran Khan makes a debut which will be remembered for ages. He's so refreshingly charming and different in this age of 6-pack abs and kung fu fighting heroes that he makes you smile. Just watch his reaction when he sees Aditi getting a tab bit too close with her fiance or for that matter that hilarious scene where he saves his to be girlfriend from two goons by convincing them that she has AIDS-he's downright mind blowing. He's definitely here to stay-no two opinions on that. What remains to be discovered is whether he follows in the footsteps of his illustrious uncle and climb the ladder of success as Aamir Khan has. There's no doubt he couldn't have got a better launch.

It's like the last scene of the movie when Mala finally gets to meet Jai and Anjali. She hugs them without giving a second thought and much to their surprise and later explains, "We have never met but seems like I have known you for years." At the end of those 2 hour 45 minutes, you feel much the same. Like you had known Jai and Aditi for years and they were your friends. And their stories was yours. The beauty of a story lies in its narration. And that's where Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na is a hands down winner. Enough said.

Final Verdict: This isn't just another movie going experience. It's a movie going experience for the ages. Watch it once and you are left thirsting for more, a second viewing it definitely deserves and a third is something you might not be able to help. So go catch this one now. And when the dvd comes out, keep it on the top of your collector's edition. For this is what movies are supposed to be. Where at the end you just can't help but smile. Where your heart feels elated and your joy in Jai and Aditi's union seems to complete you. I haven't felt this good or upbeat after watching a movie in ages. And for that Abbas Tyrewaala-I really do thank you.

RATING : ****

THE PITTER PATTER OF RAIN!!!

Its a lazy Sunday afternoon of a summer vacation that just doesn't seem to end. It's been almost a month now and as it happens with all vacations, I am once again terribly bored. The house is in chaos today as everyone is at home and everyone is looking for time to kill. I have found refuge in a balcony, sitting by the window, watching the droplets of rain fall onto the ground and bring calmness to my mind despite the chaos around me. Rain does that. On a lazy afternoon with absolutely nothing to do, rain brings a sense of peace. The dark clouds, the gloomy atmosphere, the cold waves blowing across the sea, the light drizzle-they all add up to the somberness of the moment.

I don't know why but somehow I am not able to share the enthusiasm that my relatives are showing today afternoon. Everyone seems to be busy doing one thing or the other, yet me, I am just sitting here by the balcony on the 4th of the building, abosrbed in my own thoughts. A man runs across the road and into the opposite buliding, covering his head with his leather bag, to take shelter from the rain. A few children are playing football on the road behind our building, without a care in the world and enjoying themselves in the rain. A car comes honking and the kids step aside to let the car pass. As soon as the car passes, the children resume their game of football, rain being more of an inspiration than a detterrent in their ambition to kick the ball. The ball seems to get lost in the water collected on the ground now and then but the children don't seem to mind. The wetter they get, the happier they are.

Inside the house, some of the ladies are busy in the kitchen discussing the latest fall and rise in the prices of vegetables, saris and jewellery. I can hear their conversation from here. The men are busy in their own discussion. It's regarding whether Congress should continue in power in the next general elections or is it time for a change? The kids-my sisters and cousins, they
seem to be busy in their own world regarding what to do with the afternoon. Playing outside is considered as one of the options but my 10 years old cousin Noora reminds everyone that their parents wouldn't let them out in the rain so they start their brainstorming again. My eldest sister, Rubina, 18 and just out of school, is watching the latest promos on B4U music. The TV is in the hall, where all the men are sitting, so before long she's asked to turn down the volume by my Nana. She is not happy about it but she won't dare and try getting into an argument with Nana. As sweet as he was, once he said something, it was often the end of discussion. Unless you wanted to know what's hell wrath was like.

"Farid beta," I hear my mom's voice from the hall. "Farrrrrooooooo," she calls out again. I don't know why but I love it when my mother calls me farrrooo. Love seems to echo in every syllable of that. So much so that I never let anyone call me farrroo. That right is reserved just for mom. "Jee mummy," I reply back. "The pakodas are ready beta, come and eat."

Ahh-pakodas. Kachori. Sambosas. And a cup of tea. Perfect for a rainy day afternoon. But somehow I didn't feel like leaving the balcony side. So I asked mom to bring it here. "Mummy, can you bring it here please? I want to sit here and eat."

Five minutes and a few rain drops later, one of my younger cousin sisters, Farheen, brought me a plate full of kachoris and pakodas and a cup of tea. Thanking her, I took the plate and cup from her and rested it by the side of the balcony in front of me. She didn't say anything and went back on her duty. She was 20, a year younger than me but had been married for 3 years now and with a 2 year old son, my nephew Bilaal. Looking at her I wondered about life's predicament. I would be 21 in less than a month and when someone asked me who I was, all I could reply was that I was a 3rd year engineering student. She on the other hand, a newly turned 20 year old girl, was mrs Farheen Kausar and a mother. Life's not fair, I thought to myself. Why do some of us get the oppurtunities we seek in life while others are not even given a chance? Just because she was a girl, did that justify her getting married at the tender age of 17? My sister was 18 and if all of a sudden my dad were to talk about marrying her off, I would have just walked out of the house without a second thought. Luckily, my dad's thinking matched mine in that regard. My sister would be pursuing a course in architecture soon.

But did that in any way compensate for the injustice done to Farheen? I am not sure if you can call it injustice. But was she even ready for marriage? Leave alone to be a mother. I am about to turn 21 and I still consider myself to be too young to handly any sort of big responsibilties. And she was all of 17 when she was thrust upon the responsibilty of being a wife and a home maker. I wondered if I could even consider her to be younger than me. Sure, she may have been born after me, but the life that she was leading now, the resposibilities she was carrying out, I doubt she is any longer my younger sister. It almost feels awkward when she calls me 'bhaijaan.' Sometimes I feel I should call her 'aapa.'

I took a bite out of a kachori and sipped my tea, still watching the rain drops. Life is stranger than you think, I thought to myself. The youngest of my cousins, the 10 year old Noora comes running to me shouting 'Farid Bhaijaan, Farid Bhaijaan.' I take her up in my arms and make her on my lap. 'Kya hua?' I asked her in hindi. My youngest sibling, my 14 year old sister Nayab comes running after her. 'Nayab aapa is asking for the mp3 player. But I want to listen to songs," she says showing Nayab's blue colored Sony Mp3 player. "It's mine," Nayab says defensively.
I smile at the innocence of this fight. I slowly take away the mp3 player and hand it back to Nayab. Noora looks hurt. I tell her to go pick my iPod from my table and listen to songs from there. She gives me a big smile and leaves my lap to pick up my iPod. Nayab leaves happily too, now that her mp3 player has been returned.

The rain drops continue. The children continue playing football but are looking a bit tired now. Cars come and go by the street, their vipers turning every few seconds, to wipe away the water from the winshields, disturbing the game of football.My thoughts continue to consume me. Where has the innocence of youth gone? Where are the dreams that we held so close to our hearts when we were children? Where is the conviction we had in ourselves when we believed that the most difficult task in life was to score a 100 in an exam? My newphew Bilaal comes rolling on his tri cycle, zooming throug the room as if he were driving a ferrari. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," he imitates the sound of a running car as he drives the tri cycle. I look at that child and wonder if he would ever realizethat his tri cycle wasn't a car-it was just that a, tri cycle. Somewhere in my heart I wish he wouldn't.

The conversation in the hall had turned from politics to why engineering was the most viable career option today. My uncle, Intesaar maamu, recounts his experiences and explains why he regrets not taking engineering when he had the chance to. My dad, elder cousin brother and nana listen vividly. I just smile at the irony of it all. My uncle regretted not taking engineering and I regretted just the opposite. I regretted sacrificng my dreamsf or a supposed safe career option. 'But my dreams aren't over yet,' I told myself. I don't have anything to regret in my life yet. I still have my whole life in front of me and hopefully by the time I am my Uncle's age, I won't be sitting with a bunch of old men and discussing the mistakes of my life.

The females of the house-my mom, my 2 aunts, naani and eldest cousin sister are having a discussion on some old relative from the village. I feel detached from it all. Like theywere talking about a place I didn't know of. I had been to my village only once and that too 14 years ago. I had never called it my home, whenever someone asked me where I was from, myreply had always been Mumbai. How could I call a place I had only seen once my entire life my home? Even if I was born there. I was a product of my surroundings, I had been shaped into what I am by the streets of Mumbai and the runes of Bahrain. Bihar and the village of Garri was just my birth place and nothing more. It didn't hold any other significance in mylife.

One of the kids scored a goal. He was celebrating wildly, splashing in the water, his joy knowing no bounds. My mom joined me in the balcony. "Aur kya kar hai mera beta?" she asked fondly, looking on at the game of football. "Nothing," I replied. "Just watching a game offootball and wondering when the rain would stop." "Ahaaa," she said. I looked at my mom, that face of ethereal beauty having the heart which had so much love stored in it and wondered how any one could love so much. Why was it that one person could love more than others? Why was it that one person cared so much more than any other? Why did we love someone more than some one else. Why does our heart seem to be more fond of one person than the other. We had a favourtie aunt, favourtite sibling, favourite cousin, even maybe a favorite parent. But why? Because they loved us more than others? And if all of them were to love us equally, would we love them equally too? No-even then, somehow we would still pick our favourites. Why does our heart do that? Why can't it love everyone equally?

"Mom," I said after a while, "Yes beta?" she asked me. "Do you ever wonder while you watch us grow up about how you were as kids and think that maybe it would have best if you had remained a child forever? Far away from the problems of the worldly life."
She smiled at me before replying. "Some times," she answered. "But then I remember that if I hadn't grown up, then I would have never known what it meant to be a wife. I would have never experienced the joy of being a mother. And," she continued after a pause, "I would have never known what it felt like to have a wonderful son like you."

I laid my head back on the railing of the balcony and smiled at her. She kissed me on the forehead and left, leaving my alone to my thoughts. So maybe it wasn't that bad to live inthis world after all. Maybe there was something to look forward to in life after all.The responsibility of being a husband, the joy of being a father still awaited me. My dreams and my life still awaited me.

The rain had stopped. And with it, the game of football had ended as well. The children, trying to catch their breath, scattered to ther homes with a promise to meet tomorrow again.The match over, I got up from the balcony as well. "Farrrriiiidddd," my dad called out."Coming dad," I answered back. I left the balcony to join everyone else in the hall. As Iwas making my way to the hall, I found Bilaal still on his tricycle riding away to glory.I picked him up from the tri cycle and placed him on his shoulders. "Ready to fly Bilaal?"I asked. Bilaal giggled and said, "Yes maamu." I flapped my hands out like they were wings zoomd across the corridoor and into the hall way with Bilaal laughing and cheering on.Hearing his laughter, I somehow felt a sense of peace, of happiness. Like this child'slaughter was the only thing that mattered. And really, it was all that really did matter.For if we could all put a smile on every child's face, this world would be a much better place.

I joined everyone else in the hall to catch a retelecast of my nani's favourite movie,Dilip Kumar's Ram Aur Shyam. As I looked around the hall at everyone sitting there, from my 2 year old nephew Bilaal to my 14 year old sister Nayab, to my 26 year old cousin brother Nehal to my 43 year old dad to my 65 year old Nana, I somehow couldn't help recounting Robert Frost's famous line:

AND MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP

AND MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP!!

WHAT WE HAVE DONE!!!

A soldier dies in a battle unaware that his wife is about to give birth to his son. A man thirsts for water in the desert while we sip a cold chocolate latte at the nearest CCD outlet with our friends. A Government official signs a bill that passes a hike in petrol rates sitting in an AC room while a poor man waits for a bus that would take him home unaware that he might not have enough money to pay the price of the ticket anymore. A wife is burnt to death at the house of her in-laws because her father was unable to pay the dowry that was asked. A father rapes his own daughter and then slits her neck and leaves her for dead on a railway track.

No-this isn't a worst case scenario of what happens in our society. In fact-this is what happens in our society. For those of you who want to know from where did I get the above paragraph-well, they were all headlines in the last weeks Times of India. I know-sounds like end of the world is around the corner. But even if it isn't, I secretly hope it is.

I have tried to find meaning in all this. Where all this will make sense. Where this savagery of man will be justified. But then the deeper I think, the longer I let my heart try to understand this destruction of mankind by man himself-the more sure I become that perhaps we are better dead than alive. For where will all this stop? Or will this even stop? I try to be hopeful, to be cheerful that one day man will realise that he gains nothing by destroying his own self but then it hits me that man is too selfish, too foolish to understand this.

For he doesn't understand that hate is the one thing that is sure to destroy him. It's stunning to see how low we have stooped. This Thursday I opened the newspaper to read about how a father raped his daughter and then to save himself, slit her neck and left her for dead on a railway track. The girl though managed to move away from the track in the nick of time. Yet, she was unable to call for help and lied in the nearby bushes till the next morning when she was found by some passers by and taken to a hospital. Luckily she survived to live the tale.

Unfortunately she will have to live through the pain that her very own father caused her.

The story brought a lump to my throat and for a few minutes I imagined that girl, that 14 year old girl, being sexually abused by the very man responsible for her birth and I tried to understand why any father would do such a thing to his own daughter, to his own blood. Has man really stooped so low?? Have we really become this pathetic??

For why would we do this to our own selves? Why are we all hell bent upon destroying each other? Give me one reason that justifies war. Give me one reason that justifies the existence of nuclear weapons today. Give me one reason that justifies a crime as heinous as rape. Give me one reason that justifies dowry. Give me a reason~I plead you, I beg you, to give me a reason that justifies the injustice that is being done in the world today.

I have dreamt of a world where children can play without the fear of a bully taking their toys away from them. I have dreamt of a world where women can roam the city streets without the fear of being mugged or raped. I have dreamt of a world where a father takes as much pride in his daughter as he does in his son. I have dreamt of a world where there's a smile on every man's face, where there are no beggars and where every man has a roof to cover himself and enough money to feed himself and his family. And believe me it's not an impossible dream. For nothing and no one can convince me that there can't be a world where peace reigns supreme and where life really is beautiful. That world is possible but not plausible.

For the world that we see now is the payment of our very own sins. We have become so embroiled with our own selves, with our own success that we have stopped caring about anyone and anything that doesn't directly affect us. If there's an earthquake in China why should we care unless one of our relatives was living there. If a girl is raped in Delhi, why should we care as long as she doesn't belong to our family? If a man guns down a bunch of school boys in US why should we care as long one of those boys is not our son. It's our selfishness, our innate desire to care only about ourselves which has got us here. Man was always a selfish being. And today we are paying the price for being selfish.

Yet somehow we still haven't realised this. We still refuse to accept that the blame lies with us for what our society has turned into. We refuse to believe that the society we are living in is one that we have ourselves created. Our selfishness, our ignorance has given birth to this society of crime, evil and inhumanity. For we don't care if there are riots in Rajasthan as long as those riots don't start in our state and our city. And even if they do~all we do is lock our doors and don't venture out for our safety comes first. Survival is the only thing that matters.

I want to say that there's still hope left for humanity yet my heart doesn't believe it anymore. For every time I want to restore my faith in humanity, somehow another story pops to my mind revealing that man indeed has reduced to nothing a but a savage animal fighting for his own survival. Where the fittest survive and those who are weak are left for dead~cared for by none and have to fend on their own. I don't know for how long humanity is going to survive but the way we are going I hope it doesn't for long. For really~humanity already seems to be extinct and life seems to be already on the wane.

Somewhere out there I hope there's some one who can restore my faith in humanity and my pride in being a human. For they say that there's light at the end of every tunnel. I hope there's one in the tunnel that we seem to be moving. But much more importantly~I hope that if there's a light then it isn't of an on coming train. We really are on the path of collision. Question is :

WILL WE SURVIVE THIS COLLISION OR ARE WE ALL GOING TO DESTROY OURSELVES IN THE HOPE TO SURVIVE?

Yet-there remains a hope. An event that I witnessed two years ago makes me believe that even though the candle of humanity maybe flickering dimly but it hasn't been extinguished yet. Two years ago while I was in Mumbai and a month away from entering Manipal~around 5 blasts were caused by terrorists in the local trains killing thousands and wreaking havoc in the city. As Mumbai went berserk in the madness of this mindless crime, it's citizens rose and became the beacon of hope in all this confusion. Several roads were closed as a result of the blasts and thus there was a huge traffic jam on every street. I was in Dadar that day and in the evening when I left for home, I saw several citizens including students standing at the roadside carrying glasses of water and packets of biscuits offering it to the hapless passengers travelling in buses and taxis or even walking as they all tried to make their way home. Even today that scene brings a lump to my throat. I and my friends joined them in our bit to do something, however significantly small,to help ease the pain of a city still reeling from the effects of that blast. As we distributed water and biscuits to the travellers, I felt a small sense of pride. I noticed those around me~all standing side by side-housewives, students, working men, young children~all strangers, unaware of each other's identities yet joined by a common cause to help those in need and to unite against those who wanted to destroy our city~OUR MUMBAI. That day I realized that the human spirit, however bleak, still flutters. The irony was that it took an act of destruction to bring about an act of construction.

LOVE STILL FLUTTERS IN THE HUMAN HEART AND AS LONG AS IT DOES THE HOPE FOR HUMANITY WILL EXIST!!

WHAT HURTS THE MOST!!

PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW WHERE TO DRAW THE LINE!!
PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW WHERE THE JOKE ENDS!!

Two lines that I have used quite often in the past few hours. For there are things you just donot joke with. Every person has a sensitive side to him, every person regards something as above everything else in this world and so I have mine too. And when people cross that line, when people start joking about things which I regard personal, then they are playing with a side of me that is better off not coming out. And so it happened a few hours ago.

I take writing very seriously. Yes~it's a hobby but one that I am really passionate about. Because at times my mind gets over flooded with so many thoughts, that writing is the only means to vent out those thoughts. It gives me peace of mind and sometimes it gives me perspective. But then some people just don't realize that not everything is a joke. And that I don't take everything sportingly. As I have said~some people should know where the joke ends.

A few months ago I started writing a story. But somehow after 35 pages of writing, I somehow couldn't continue. I seemed to have lost the zest for that story and didn't know how to progress the plot further. So for nearly 4 months or so~that story remained on my computer, unfinished and untouched. In fact, I had even given up on the story and thought that it's best if it remains unfinished. Then all of a sudden, 4 months later, I got a plot device which I thought could be used in the story. But just to see how people would react to the story~I started posting it on an orkut community. And I must say I loved the reaction. People loved it and the writer in me was happy, the writer in me was alive again and I felt now there was a reason for me to continue the story.

I would write the story with absolute zest for I knew people were waiting for it and the one thing more than anything else in this world that an artists wants is people's admiration. I had that and that gave me an insurmountable amount of happiness. Until ofcourse the alleged incident happened. I was going to hang out with my friends one day so I wasn't able to continue the story for that day. I told so hoping that others would understand. Well-some one didn't.

A person I had begun to regard as a friend deemed fit that she should continue the story from where I had left off. Now if she had actually continued the story maybe I wouldn't have minded her interruption as much as I did. But no-she ridiculed my story. She reduced to my characters to caricatures, mocked the hell out of them and thought she was being very funny. And no-it wasn't funny. She had insulted me. She had insulted my writing. She had insulted one of the few things I hold close to my heart. And she had crossed that line.

WHAT IS DONE IS DONE.

WHAT ARE LEFT ARE THE CONSEQUENCES!!

I didn't find her little prank funny. I didn't find it funny at all. And the fact that someone whom I had regarded as a friend had dared to insult and mock my writing, the hurt was that much more deeper. So I did what I felt was right. I decided not to post the story on the orkut community any further. I know it sounds harsh-for there were other readers who wanted to read the story but after what she did, there wass absolutely no way I could continue the story any further on that community. One thing is clear-I am done with her and her jokes now. And this is the way it is going to be from now on. Call me stubborn, call me selfish, call me rude but thats's how life is. I am really sorry for all those others who used to read my story. I can't help it anymore than they can. Hopefully I'll find a way for all of them to read that story. For letting them down is not what I intend. But I have been let down so badly, I can't even think of continuing that story anymore.
I really am sorry. But the truth is:

PEOPLE ARE MEAN

LIFE'S A BITCH.