Metamorphosia....

John Gray, as the neighbourhood knew him was an ugly duck in a perfect sense. there was something uncanny about the way he appeared. Hairy nose, toad eyes, crooked half smile, pierced ear which the neighbourhood kids often found scary. The hairs on his head had long left on a journey to the unknown realm.
Once he stood in the sun, there was always a silver lining running around the neat shaved head. Funny as it may seem to look at the guy,  there wasn't anything going on in his life that he himself would be happy about.
But then, he was happy. For the day was coming close for the transitions to happen. Pretty close.
John Gray, born 15th Aug, 1967, 5 feet and 10 inches in all, broad shouldered, pale white all the way, walked like a mummy with hands down, and a jiggling pot belly with a knife scar on the right side. Born into the neighbourhood of a working class family, he had always wondered about the intricacies of life. To begin with, John Gray was an overtly brilliant guy. Blessed with a above average IQ. He was good with numbers and often found solutions to the daily financial problems his family faced. Over time he proved more than handy with his skills. And by the time he was fifteen, he was able to feed a family of four  working in the local drug store. His speciality lay in the fact that .

 

There are seven deadly sins.
And more than half of them, for more than half a century have been dwelling in the sinister heart of Mr. Alistair McCovey. The vicious secret lay in the depths of his heart, fenced against the world that he lived in.

Knight on the Red Corridor

There are two parts to a story, one that is told and the one that is supposed to be told. There is a certain important difference between the two. The former is a lie and we will soon discover the later.

Sitting alone on a plush table at "The Bay(Cafeteria)" on a cool summer evening surrounded by Google, Ernst & Young, indi-joe, Subway and trying to gulp down a big fat cheesy burger , I looked around to see something new,may be I was expecting aliens attack, flood, a car turning into Optimus Prime or just a spaceship land right in the middle of the courtyard surrounding the BAY and Jedi knights pop out to fight each other, yet I saw nothing new. And to be honest I was a bit sad, so I gyrated my eyes towards the Lovely Ernst and Young employees. There were all petite chicks who at one time early in my career made that over stressed mind of mine delve in to the depths of erotic fantasy. But after two years of staring the cantilevered maidens, the cascades of hair settled on the shoulders, kajoled eyes, long thin legs; I summed up that it fades faster than most of the flowers in the world. So in a way you could say, It was just another day at office fore me. One of those days where I could afford to take a break during office hours to have a cup of coffee or a McDonald's Veggie Burger with extra cheese along with a Coke.

My office shared space with Google, Ernst and Young and some of the best organizations of the world. And no doubt the place was as cool as any other office complex, if not better.

With two good pubs and plethora of eateries it did provide a decent choice to an average over stressed working professional.

But that day indeed was different from all others. As I was gulping my burger, the fat cheesy one, I couldn't help myself wonder why exactly am I eating a burger? Yes! I was hungry, the obvious answer but why not a Dosa or Samosa or a fruit salad. Why a burger?

Absurd as it may seem, i felt that my eating a burger had lot to do with the fact that it was marketed, presented to me as a better option when I wished to have something prepared fast and easy to satisfy my hunger pangs, which I would say the Dosa failed to do in the marketing department.

I stopped, journeyed to a dustbin, dumped, travelled back to my seat and had a hot cup of tea thinking all the way at the Non-marketed options available to me. Finally I settled for the Sprouts salad. That's my story. Why I threw it, Lets discover it...

In this era of marketing and sales, the dreams and aspirations of the nation is being subdued in a very grotesque manner. We the people of this free nation are being pulled towards an non existing utopian world, where our very own existence is camouflaged as a means to serve the rich and the powerful.Every where around me, I see American products swarming with their righteous claims to provide me the most sensous moments without any compromise to quality.

Everything is marketed so well, and researched so religiously that I soon enough my writings would be carbon dated to determine which age I belonged to.

A heretic at the dawn of the new millennia would I appear to the teenagers that live the burger infested all new American dream.

If any other country claims that we have taken their share of Jobs, I can still understand. But not with America incorporation. They have not only brought Ipods to our tinsel towns but have made themselves richer in a multi dimensional way by defining the rules of the game. The "Dude" and "babes" are lost in Disneyland oblivious to the fact that at the Grass root level things are very different. The divide between the rich and the poor is growing at an alarming rate.

Its heartening to see the young future of our country sweeping across the filthy railway platforms.

No where is it better portrayed than in " Slumdog Millionaire". The movie was not received well by Critics and Actors in India. The film fraternity of India protested that the west shouldn't see India as poor third World Country. I feel selling dreams have made them numb to the fact that what is shown is just the tip of the ice-berg and it exists outside the gates of their dream world. It would be naive not to acknowledge the fact that the condition of poor down-trodden people of this country is in the hands of the well to do individual of this Country. why hide ourselves in the doctrine of " Ignorance is Bliss"

There are many such instances of the lie that we live in. The Print media, the films, the advertisements are all moving towards a direction to justify this utopian world which exists only in their films and glamour shows. On the contrary The Maoists, terrorists, revolutionaries, conservationists, soldiers and the dead farmers all cry out together fighting a battle with their lives across the "Red corridor" bringing us face to face with the reality which we are not willing to acknowledge.

I would thank the West for giving us the medium, the technology to find solutions to the problems at our very own backyard. There is a great hope to construct a new India with an unmatched vigour that must be implemented at the grass root level. To build this side of paradise is our responsibility.

However, this mirage of marketed materialistic dreams that we don't want to wake up from, cannot guarantee a better future for our coming generations because a time will come when a few hands that have just finished the last rites of their children, will be holding a gun pointing towards us and the reality will hit us with a BANG!!

THE END

How positive are you about "positive thinking"?

How positive are you about "positive thinking"?

With the Bhagat-Hirani issue doing rounds across the leading newspapers here in India, its a good time to look at the so called Self help books .... The following article is my personal take on the highly successful business of Self help books.

With the markets being flooded with Self help inspirational books of all genres, from business to career, from losing weight to getting married, it does make the job difficult for a person who actually needs help in taking decisions on how he wants to spend the rest of his life without being mislead is minimal.

In this world of technological marketing, even the creative mass is appalled at the onslaught of mass propaganda of humans failing to achieve success and happiness in their lives. The chances of a person not having read a self help manual is becoming obsolete by the day.

The premise is based on the fact that we as humans lack the exact emotions required to excel towards pursuing happiness. On this journey we need a certain companion to guide us towards our goal. Nothing wrong in that, except for the fact that it gets crowded over time with each guide coming up with his own version of what is right and what is wrong.

Nothing in this world comes free, the companions pile up a huge profit at my financial expense. I am weak and I pay for the expert advice but does it really work. Of course not, because the person who actually makes something out of life must not only be creative but also be good at marketing his creativity. He must market himself well over time. It is a requirement that we always forget. But I would leave that up to the readers to decide for themselves, what is right or wrong from an ethical point of view?

Moving over to Hirani-Bhagat fiasco, it is so obvious that it is a marketing gimmick. If the contents of the allegation are read with a probing mind, it can surely be known that both the parties ask the mass only one question," Have you read the book?" Of course if you haven't read Five point someone or haven't watched 3 idiots then you are missing the point.

Its a well orchestrated marketing symphony. And if this can be plotted against the unsuspecting youth of India, what a niche clientèle the self doubting readers turn out for the American publishing markets. Self help books mislead the reader into believing at his own weekness and create room for more doubt at his own abilites. How this is carried out a mass scale requires a willingness to probe, discarding our current myopic stance that we seem to have surrendered to.

In the business of creativity there is always money to be made and dexterity at duping people to be proved. Let us not turn victims to our self doubt.

After all I am not very positive about " Positive thinking" :)

The End

Towards light...

Darkness somewhere confines

The light that is about to shine.

And swirled in the shadows it pleads

" Free me, for its my time!"

Unaware it is to my plight

Of seething pain and ever blinding sight.

My face is furrowed and grown many a lines

Though Time laughs and says, "you are doing just fine."

Draped in dreams, I gaze at the stars,

Take me away to the world I feel so far.

Moist honey lips,

twirl of hair,

dark eyes,

and face so fair

Who are you that lay in my arms

Wrapped with such soft wily charms

Are you a speck in my dream or

Are you glorious reality...

While I muse lying beneath the stars,

I believe

Love wins over many a wars

The end

Phantom of the Opera

Sunday 6th De 2009

I saw the "Phantom of the Opera" lying on a cot with fever and a running nose. And by Rairakhol standards quite late in the night. I had not seen a Hollywood musical before, at least not completely, though Chicago, Moulin Rouge and Phantom of the Opera were on my wishlist for quite a long time. I hardly had been interested in musicals. Anybody who happens to view any number of Bollywood movies surely can skip these musicals. It doesn't get better than here in India "Hum Apke Hain Kaun" Who can forget it for both good and bad reasons. As for me I slept through the whole ordeal. :)

but what really caught my imagination in the Phantom of the Opera was

1) Gerard Butler.

King Leonidas, whose thundering voice commanded an army of Spartans to fight the most fearsome battle according to Hollywood standards is a legendary tale of courage, now singing in an opera was way too much to digest. What was he doing there and if he was there how the hell did he manage to sing.

I guess he did manage to get a team of Fat opera lady singers along with his Spartan army to dine with him in Hell!

2) the Promo of the movie... Featuring a bone chilling masterpiece by Andrew Lloyd Webber which hardly seemed to be the music of opera. It sounded more like a rock anthem. whatever it was, I was really done in by the trailer.

3) A.R.Rehman:I mean I had read somewhere that he had played for Andrew Webber. But i was really not sure whether this was the one. As it turned out this was not it.

The Opening of the film with the celestial music sweeping away the remains of the Opera from the B&W background to the past filled with Light and colour had a great first impression and that was where I decided to watch it completely irrespective of my aching head.

and What a Film!

Gerard Butler and Emmy Rosseum were rightly cast in the Film and Gerard really did justice to the Character of the Phantom.

The music is top notch and the songs portray the real theme of the story.

The title song composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber is remarkable...

There are some really remarkable moments in the film, one of my favourite is the ending, the phantom leaving its mark on the grave of the one he loved. The Ring and the Rose, lying beside his beloved...

well you can watch it if you want to...

PREMONITIONS

Thomas Martyn Jr wasn't happy with his work as a photographer. After more than eight years as a free lance he had yet to come up with his story. The story that he believed could change his professional life and jettison his mundane existence. He was always on his heels, he travelled through the dark lonely roads spending the night in remote motels near to the highway. He had no family, no responsibilities and most importantly no story.

22nd November 1994 was a different day.

The thirty five year old photographer had finally found what he was looking for and may be more. He managed to write his story. But the story was not any that he had written before. It was real life incident that happened and was still happening somewhere in the thousand of acres of land surrounding the Corbett national park. But there was a missing piece that needed to be captured before he could turn back to the confines of his desk and the writing pad. It had to be unearthed. And there was only way to do that; return to the park.

This proved to be his nemesis.

He walked alone. And as he walked he would stand still at times on the open road keep staring over his shoulder, never turning back to look in to the void behind him.

Fear was writ large on his face. His breath was heavy and even the darkness ahead of him was a relief compared to what he had left behind. He walked further down the road, breathed heavier and stood still at times to stare back at the sight and the events of that unfortunate night which seemed to follow him all along. He could see it happen right behind his back and he would gasp for air. He wished he could run as fast as possible but deep down he could feel the ice beneath the ankles. He was paralysed with fear at times. Fear he had not known since the day he was born.

He felt lost and but never tired, because he knew they were coming and they were very close to him. very close to feel his breath, to sense his plight, to see the droplets appear on his forehead, his watery eyes and the raised hairs under many thick layers of garment.

"They are coming!" that's all his mind could conjure. His lips was parched. The adrenaline pumped up and his breathing hard. He tried to walk as fast as he could summon his limbs. He remembered something and he let a gush of air vent through his nostrils. He had a gun, but there was only one bullet now or may be none. Had he fired all or one remained. He thought he prayed that god would listen to him just once more. They can't be killed with one but The one could relieve him of his misery. Yes! that's it.

He put his hand inside his trouser pockets, pulled out the gun, Cocked the gun, smiled at his fortune, and fired.

The Bullet did its job, and did it well. There remained no signs of his brains inside his head. It lay splattered all around as his body came tumbling down and finally rested on the side walk.

"Thanks" was the last word that his mind could sum up before the exodus...

To be continued....