State of Mind

Irritated. Tired. Cranky. Sad. Empty. Dead. Charged Up. Rebellious. Wish there was a gun to shoot everyone. Wish I was all alone. Wish I was far from civilization. Wish Mom was here. Need a hug. Hungry. Thirsty. Thirsty for rum. Especially Old Monk. Miss Totos. Miss friends. Want no human interaction. Want a home. Need to pack. Have to shift. Have to find a house. Have to make a home. Tired eyes. Up for 20 hours straight. Need more energy. Why is there a mosquito buzzing around? Craving Blueberry Cheesecake. Havent baked for a long time. Cooking is therapeutic. Sleep deprived. Fondly remember the glow in the dark starry bedsheets. Unstable. Meditation. Superpower. Force. John Abraham. Lust. Bicep. Exercise. Boot Camp. Old age. Retirement. Bucket List. Paragliding. Macchu Picchu. Road not taken. Nostalgia. Books. Prized possessions. Alternate world. Escape reality. Reality TV. Bigg Boss. Work. Edit. Crunch. Walls. House. Brokers. Communication. Writing. Blog. Book. Characters. Sabina. Unbearable lightness of being. Coincidences. Bigger Picture. Future. Long wait. Tough. Filmy Dialogues. Kishore Kumar. Music. Silence. Calmness. White. Peace. Words. Life. Death. The End

3rd time lucky?

So this is the 3rd blast in Mumbai which has happened near me… and when I say near I mean near… the first (7/11) where 7 serial blasts send shockwaves across the country….it happened when I took the train home… had left early from work….I had to walk home cursing everybody not knowing what was going on. The next day there were slogans on ‘the spirit of mumbai’. Memories of human sea and panic have added to my claustrophobia.

Next was the 26/11, where the hostage saga carried on for 54 hours … I was shooting in the same locations for a channel id and had unfortunately packed up on time and had just left when we got the call. Memories of widespread media panic-mileage-hype added to my disgust.

The third time is today, 13/7 where 3 blasts again sent the media hype to a zenith. This time my office was nearby the site and yet again this was a day I had chosen to step out from work early. Wonder what memories will plague me this time?

Moral of the story – don’t leave work early, coz I may not be lucky the next time.

A new parenting technique which may evolve to a new career option!

Gone are the days of “mera beta engineer ya doctor bannega”. Now all that hyperventilating dads and shrieky moms want, is a child who can throw a tantrum and refuse to sallow a morsel for 3-4 hours even at the cost of turning blue in the face.
Most of the old timers are aghast at this new parenting technique and these new age parents who are fighting the Sharmaji and Guptaji’s in a race to clock the most their child is deprived of food are secretly plotting their climb to fame.
When contacted by eager journos, Gulabo Devi, a resident of Haryana said that she was forced to starve her son due to the acute poverty they faced but being the people of the soil; his son battled it out against malnourishment and hopefully against corruption someday. She seemed apologetic that she chooses her husband over her son. Between silent sobs, she concludes that “kya karen tau, aurat ki zindagi ek sangharsh howe”. Her son has now grown to be a successful ‘Professional Hunger Striker’ and is currently eyeing a piece of the political pie.
Moving from the hinterland to the mainland of corruption though is another story where choices of starvation are self inflicted along with choices of bulimia and anorexia. Mrs Anchal (it is fashionable to drop the surname these days) claims that it was a tough task for her to hide all the snacks and tidbits especially the cereal boxes from her tiny tot. “He has the nose of a blood hound, he can smell food from a mile away!” exclaimed Mrs Anchal while describing the tough times she had to undergo while training her son Ram to stay away from food. She describes that if she wouldn’t have been tough then, her teenaged son would not have made a successful career of a professional ‘Hunger Striker’ that is so in vogue these days.
Currently Ram is part of an NGO (ashram as it is lovingly called by all and sundry) which flash mobs issues plaguing 23% of the population. Ritambhara another young Hunger striker rising slowly through the ranks and confident of making it big in the main leagues says that being a woman it was doubly difficult for her to fast for long stretches and not shop to fulfill the hunger pangs. One of the professional hazards of being a hunger striker is to lie still among thousands of people in an open maidan.
Ashutosh another eager journo asks peevishly, if the fire in belly prompts the firey speeches that also have become a hallmark of a seasoned hunger striker? His question is rudely ignored and Ashu is reduced to posting status messages on his FB describing the under the table diet that these hunger strikers consume. His next assignment would be a sting on the same.
However, the only thing worrying Ritambhara, Teenaged Ram and parents pushing their kids to this new career option is the diminishing causes that drive able bodied men with a glint of political power in their eyes to the arena of public fasting.
Meanwhile Sudhakar Jagdish a journalist with Indian Express has posted a new nursery rhyme for kids who want to take up this vocation later in their life.
Baba Baba Black Sheep, Have you any cash?
Yes Sir Yes Sir Three bags full.
One for my ashram,
one for the phoren cruise,
and one for my political career which needs some push!

CSR stands for Con Swindle & Rip-off

This is how cynics are born… they are shown utopian world, promised bliss and then rudely awakened by some corporate mumbo jumbo.

Why does a corporate want to be socially responsible? Isn’t doing the business that they do, honestly count? Why do they have to pretend to care? Is there a corporate God watching over giving out brownie points for such things? How do they sleep at night after conning people over and over again? Do they think that employees will be happy waking up early to reach a out of the way location, battling early morning traffic (which is worse than morning traffic), reaching the said location and then realizing that what was meant as a ‘cycle to work’ activity actually meant ‘cycle for 2 min among fume spewing trucks and killer buses” and then pollute the environment more by commuting to work through a circuitous route. And yes, for this you get to keep your yellow helmet with you!

Well I have a problem being used as a guinea pig to promote a company that I know nothing about… don’t want to become a statistic in their report of how they have helped the environment (humbug) and not even work up a sweat!

I had to actually go and run for 30 min to feel that the early morning activity was not wasted… and then indulge in a leisurely breakfast so that I don’t reach work before my usual time (cant let the bosses see me that early at work, they would assume a crisis is on!)

Although unwillingly, I did manage to CON the environment by promising it a pollution free commute, but added more; I did SWINDLE myself into thinking I could have a healthy approach to work and self, but added more calories by the extra strips of bacon during the leisurely breakfast; and I was certainly RIPPED OFF by promoting a couple of corporates into getting some brownie points that their conscience wouldn’t approve of.

Soft Kitty by ANU

superman knock knock

Whistleblower…who lost the whistle!

What do you do when you chance upon an explosive piece of information that can stir things up in an already chaotic environment? Do you believe in your own luck or start questioning it…do you share it with anyone… or sit on it till the time is ripe… how do you know that the time is ripe anyways?

If you have any sense of morality, you approach the authorities and let fate/law take its own course of action…what do you do if your morality needs a crash course in counseling? Do you drown yourself in the elixir of life or rummage through tech handbooks for that button camera?

If you are yours truly, you very lamely present it to the top brass without any corroborating evidence and hope that the genius of your luck sandblasts the film of mediocrity coursing through your veins…failing which there is always the infinite digital space to rant and rave!

But what if that explosive piece explodes into nothing more than a whimper and hushed even further by watchdogs of the corrupt? Do sit back and lament how your luck has run out or how you were not smart enough to cash in or how you had no morals that your conscience didn’t even prick a teeny weeny bit?

Nah! You just move on… put everything in perspective and give in to fate! Or post an ambiguous status on Facebook? Or buy a real whistle like me?