Short Story - Published here

I couldn’t see it, but the fragrant rain overwhelmed my thoughts and brought fantasies anew in my clogged mind.
It was the fragrance of water meeting the parched land – but more of innocent children celebrating in its welcome and old couples sharing coffee under its benevolence.
The innumerable drops fell out of nowhere – from an unknown source, a generous donator and a fine craftsman. Each drop held its identity in its astounding spectrum and wet secrets. And each time it hit the earth - a puddle got bigger, an umbrella got wetter and an old hag got sulkier.
Of science claiming rainwater as the purest form of water available – I opened my mouth ajar as a kid to collect it inside and gulp it down all at once, feeling it cleanse my body. The kids in my neighborhood used to join me in my spiritual pursuits but ended up in the laps of their mothers sniffing and sneezing while the parental love cussed the rain for its very falling.
I never once caught a cold dancing in the rain. The rains had always enveloped unforgettable moments for me and sealed it with its sweet scent.
He never once stepped out in the rain. The drops irked him, the water drenched him and the sky depressed him. He only urged me to step out and make the best of it, but I never did. Not without him.
I would’ve liked to say that we met when it was raining and held pink umbrellas with little heart patterns above us, but it would be a lie. We met on a clear sunny day, fell in love on a velvety purple night and married in thin fog. There were no romantic connections with the rain, no matter how much romance it filled my heart with.
I never asked him if love was forever or if we would always be together. In my mind love was like the rain. It came from nowhere, it landed with its own sweet poise and it ended up somewhere. For few, it reached the gutters – for others, it made the oceans and became infinite. And we only had to love to find out the answers.
And we did. We loved like there was no forever. There was no together. It was just now. And it was just me and him. Each day we passed was like that heavy cloud that showered us with all its joy and disappeared right back into the sky.
When he died – in the middle of the road, with the blood streaming down the sides of his head, his brown hair drenched in red – it rained. Like there was no tomorrow.
And when they picked him from the ground, I shielded his face with my umbrella and requested the strangers who had come in futility for rescue – “Please, let this cover him. He doesn’t like the rain”.

Few weeks back when the India Shining campaign crept its way into the television media - there was an extreme hue and cry over it. Apparently, the multi-crore advertising gimmick went off-air, leaving the country impressed at the pressure media can put on politics.
And suddenly, they turn the tables once again. Now you can catch BJP ads focusing on a sari-clad woman questioning whether you have Ataljee in your heart. Congress ads show a woman fighting for her seat in the bus and concluding with the hum Congress ki saath hain slogan.
At this juncture, as the television-savvy parties battle it out, one only wishes one owned a television channel...

There's something about luxury which makes you question its very existence. Wasn't it meant to be for a select few and if it is accessible to all - then is it really a luxury after all?
My friend tells me she won't take a chance travelling in a train, for the last time she did so - she booked executive class - and ended up sitting next to a maid...

Lux comes up with another incredible (?) publicity stunt. Lux 'Aish Karo' offer - spend a day like Aishwarya Rai - five star hotels, shopping worth fifty thousand bucks and the works.
Personally, spending a day 'like' Aish and 'with' Aish would be two different things. I reckong that 'like' Aish would automatically eliminate all men by default - since their interests would primarily lie with the 'with' Aish factor.
Also, five-star hotels wouldn't be such a big deal for the higher income group. The ones in the lower income group or nearing/below the poverty line would probably not be using Lux anyway.
But those may just be my nuerotic statistics. I would want to live 'like' Aish only if Vivek was involved. Otherwise, I'd just give it a pass...

My worst fears have hit me. To escape the monotony of everyday life - which no longer includes the daily grinding at school or the unbeatable torcher of boards - I recklessly browsed through my bookcase to find books unread and untouched.
I found two - 'The House of Blue Mangoes' and 'The God of Small Things'. Apparently, I could not go beyond the two-hundred-and-something page in each. I can't believe such brilliantly endorsed and publicized books can turn out to be such outstanding pieces of rotting tomatoes! Almost a disgrace to the Indian literary community.
Many months ago - I had read of Kavita Deswani's 'For Matrimonial Purposes' on some blog and read high praises of the book at that. After much trouble I finally found it and regretted so.
The book in itself deals with the typical ABCD element combined with the pangs of arranged marriage. Haven't we had enough exploitation of the theme already? Why are Indians portrayed as such desparate shallow people anyway? Very upsetting.
I trashed all three books immediately. Thats the next best thing I did to getting my hair colored ash blonde again this month...

Politics has its own funny way of creeping into your life and staying there as the indispensable. Its influence on those who call themselves liberally 'democratic' is quite astounding.
When Sajan Kumar (Congress) won from our area - a similar theory could've been successfully derived. People gathered in great numbers in the beautifully-manicured and landscaped garden across my place and burst crackers for hours raising their voices high enough for our BJP supporting neighbors to hear (including those who had insisted the whole lane puts up BJP flags on their gates as well as terraces - my house hosting about seven of those tricolors).
It was a sight to see - and I captured it with my Nikon. So while Sonia Gandhi may see mungerilal ke haseen sapne, I am content that the news channels would have something else to discuss.
Long live India - and long prosper such ministers, who make our lives so politically uplifted.

This random story generator did do a good job with mine. Award winning, isn't it?

One day there was a smelly dog. The smelly dog was quite content to live in a Sandhya and eat pigs.
Suddenly, there was a lovely knocking sound coming from the India. The dog jumped in fright. It decided to run to the Denmark, and got there just in time to see a cool Kanu standing there! The Kanu waved a sweet fish and the dog turned into a rusty bottle. One quite unable to smile!
The Kanu shimmered and disappeared, leaving a few babies in its place. The bottle picked up the babies and popped one into her hand. The gift of speech befell the bottle, who exclaimed,
"What a gross day! I think I shall pick seahorses!"
Off went the rusty bottle, slyly running and skipping, finally tripping on a weird walkman and toppling headlong into a smelly radio. Needless to say, it succumbed to a melony death.
The moral of this story?
If you are thinking of becoming a dog, never open a Denmark until you are sure there is no cool Kanu lying in wait.
Above all, live mentally. The seahorses you eat may be your last!

The italics words being the ones I entered, and Kanu being my nickname ;)

India is perhaps rightly then known for its superstitions and unrealistic beliefs when we hear news channels boasting of the superstitious reasons behind the moves of the politicians.
Atal wanted the counting to happen on the thirteenth of May (13, being his lucky number), Congress claimed Sonia was born on the date the Indian Constitution was drafted and Sonia was apprehensive on meeting the President today because its Amavasya (the no-moon night).
Its only smart for us to draw the conclusion that there are seldom chances of this country progressively thinking with the leaders forcing beliefs like these on the nation. Sighing, apparently, seems to be the only solution.

It my generic theory to stay away from much-hyped movies.
The media hypes, for they get paid handsomely. The audience hypes because they've shelled out their pocket money for three hours of bollywood junk and want everyone else to undergo the misery too.

It only takes a smart (?) girl like me to understand their evil plans. Hence, if a movie - a) Has Shahrukh Khan and b) Has any association what-so-ever with Karan Johar, I have pledged never to watch it. Never ever.

My faith has been reaffirmed with the release of 'Main Hoon Na' - a very hyped and much talked about movie in recent days. Apparently, it goes beyond formula movies incorporating not just a single formula (a choice from love triangle, revenge stories, across-border issues, tragedy, infidelity or comedy) but all of them, in a single serving. The good thing about the four so-called-actors of the movie, namely - Shahrukh Khan (probably our next Filmfare hero), Sushmita Sen (was I the only one who saw her face and not her body?), Zayed Khan (Hrithik's saala) and Amrita Rao (a big shock after her Ishq Vishk days) - is that they give much relief to the eyes by jumping in and out all the time. Breaks the monotony I suppose, but never really fit in.

Suprisingly someone like Naseerudin Shah - who already has to his credit a Hollywood movie - agreed to do a pesky role like the one he did. Extremely sad what money can make a man do.
The most brilliant thing about the movie is perhaps the character names. Ram and Lakshman. Who could've guessed they were brothers? Ingenious Farah. Just amazingly, extremely, unbelievably, astoundingly ingenious. Where are your feet oh eighty-kilograms-in-weight-but-nothing-in-your-head Khan? Please don't even force me to tell you the plot. String my thumbs and hang me but NO I cannot even put in words the torcherous story.

Apparently, the reason I've gathered that people find their money well spent is former Miss Universe, Miss Sen. The itsy-bitsy nothings which covered her itsoo-bitsoo body have proven the size of her self-esteem and self-respect. Her role offered nothing else. Only sudden bursts of giggles or sudden drops of her pallu. And not much left to your imagination too!
Zayed had the toughest job of saying 'Avoid' five times in the movie, for which I gather he probably didn't take more than fifty takes. On an average of twenty-five takes in a day, I don't think his work was more than two days. And he was probably paid as much and sent off home - probably to please Hrithik six-fingered-freak Roshan.

Of all the nerves, they also added Suniel Shetty. That man gives me constipation. A look at his face and my food remains undigested. And if you add those long hair, I don't think I'd eat for another week. And I don't think I did too. Ugly and talentless as he is, the Matrix-like action footage only made me bang my head against the wall asking God for mercy - of all the sins I've done in my life, isn't this punishment enough?
Shahrukh was, undoubtedly the 'hero'. Farah told him, look Shahrukh, I've taken all these loonies in my movie because my budget is very tight. So you not only have to act for yourself but also for all these jerks.
So Shahrukh, keeping upto his promise, not only acted, but overacted to cover up for the lack of talent amongst his co-stars. As the orphan and army officer on his mission (lol!) of keeping watch (bodyguard?) of some twenty-inch-waist chick, in search of his own long-lost brother, while flirting with his teacher and transforming from a sixties dude to the nineties (see, he does everything in the movie - every down and dirty thing), he does a job. Not a good one, not a bad one. Just a job. He does his job and takes the crore something back home and tells his wife Gauri - I hope this is enough for your cosmetic surgery. Go make yourself beautiful, and while you're at it, pass me the darn ciggies.

The songs appear out of nowhere and just when you're starting to feel like smashing the television, they stop. Probably a planned strategy by Farah. The only good thing about the movie is the Physics teacher, the one who spits with every word that comes out of his mouth. The good thing about him is not his character - but his input into it. He's a good actor, better than all the others 'combined'.
In my personal opinion, Farah should've just made a movie about the Physics teacher who has a major crush on the Chem teacher (Sen) and is about to get married to her when Ram (Shah) steps in and steals her heart. He then plans Ram's murder to rekindle with his lost love, but realizes soon that she was never meant to be his. The climax could be Shah leaving on a train while he could spit all over Sen telling her how much he loved her, but is letting her go for her own sake. And then Sen would run DDLJ style on the platform - 'The End' flashing as her hand meets Ram's.

I better go work on the script...

CBSE 2004 results date announced on Reliance! 12th on May 21st (11:00am) and 10th on May 23rd (11:00am).

My reaction?
Screeeeeeeeeeeeeech!

Edit: To check your result from Reliance, SMS 'CBSE12'/'CBSE10' followed by rollno. Send to 1234. And pronto!

If they would've put a pay-per-view banner on their website, I alone would've given them business of a billion dollars.

A prior warning to reading this review would be reading the 'Main Hoon Na' review below. If you don't agree with that and if Shahrukh Khan is your God, please don't read this one. For Yuva is a complete contrast to MHN - in a good sort of way, of course.

Yuva is a concept movie. It revolves around a single concept and all its characters weave their lives around it. What I really like about the movie is the choice of the concept. It gives a certain objective and meaning to what education is and what patriotism truly can be. It ascertains the power beneath the skin of an ordinary individual in ordinary circumstances with a hope to rise above all and clean the dirt by himself. Absolutely priceless. Youth in politics and the brain drain issue - stuff you'd probably discuss at Symposiums or crib all the time, but never do anything about. This one's an eye-opener. Makes you see life with a whole different perspective.

The direction and camerawork is exceptional. In the song 'Anjaana' - the way the water frolics around Kareena, its like the water is a character in itself. The climax sequence of the bridge fight - I have never before seen such an action sequence in any movie. Probably even more heart-racing than the Matrix trilogy.
The surprise package is of course, Abhishek Bachchan. An award winning performance for a deep-down-rotten negative role. I could imagine other people doing the role of 'Lallan' - but none as better as him. He was a natural. Like its coming from within him. Violent love, violent life and violent ideas - Lallan was the prize turkey.
Ajay Devgan never fools around with his work. His performance is as brilliant as that of the other movies. He easily comes out as a rebel - whether on the political or the romantic front. Esha doesn't have much of a role, but she gives a nice feel to the movie. Innocent, petite and vulnerable - Esha's character hangs there somewhere. She could've not been there, but no one would mind her either.
Kareena tries to overact at few places but you can see the Mani kept bringing her back on her track. The only thing I didn't like about her character was that the concept of getting married to someone else - wasn't believable. All the while I've been thinking she's kidding, until the time it actually did surface! Perhaps something in Kareena's acting there, or a lack of a believable dialogue. Rani looks best in her bare minimum makeup (like the days of Saathiya), biting and enticing Abhishek. What her character does, no one else can in the movie. It proves that love can make a difference, yet fails miserably at times. And it comes out beautifully in her eyes. You can see her emotions like she's feeling it.

The movie could do without songs. Infact it did start off as a song-less movie, but Mani couldn't perhaps resist to the temptation and added the Rehman tracks. I never liked those tracks much until I saw the movie. Now I can't get them out of my head. My personal favorite being 'Fanaa' and 'Badal' - very techno tracks. But you really need to listen with your eyes closed and your mind open to love them. That holds true for any Rehman track, I guess.

Yuva is a movie for the youth. The youth to learn and believe in themselves. To find a meaning to this country, to their education. To be proud and make loved ones proud of them. To seek for a solution and not an abuse. To stand up against the wrong and make it right. A lot of turmoil gone into making sense of this movie and its apparent that only a few seem to have liked it. Most of them still consider Shahrukh crap better. But with a message like this and performances and direction to match - Yuva remains to be a much-enjoyed and much-thought-provoking movie for me...

Check me out on Zee News - all night tonight ;) Have two interviews - one live in studio and the other a short story done on me during the day.
Will post more details on what time exactly - but darn, was it fun!
Wait for the Metro edition of Zee News to see the story.

Been out all day being treated like a Bollywood star. Also am visible in headlines concerning CBSE on Zee News. :D !!!

Hands down, the most eventful day of my life hit me when all I could think of were figures in mid-nineties for my twelfth-board results. I had slept for precisely two hours (12:00-2:00) when I got the doomed call reporting that apparently Airtel had released the results 'four' hours before the destined time.
Its only tragic that I chose Hutch over Airtel at the time of a mobile phone connection and I beat myself to death for doing that. So after much thought I handed over my roll number, crossing my fingers and half-wondering if this was a nightmare.
It was indeed. A living nightmare. Less than two minutes later, I was reported that I got an 87.4% in an exam I had expected for no less than the 92-95% bracket. In a mix of relief and utter disappointment I hung up the phone and called up friends/relations to pass on the news.

Twenty minutes later, I was crying due to sheer mortification. My english results had shocked the crybaby out of me. People without the very knowledge of the alphabets had scored more than me. And it was only fair to take out my anger at my tear-glands.
The drama continued till 04:00, me secretly hoping the result was wrong since it was never to release before 06:00. That was when I got the call that NDTV reported the CBSE lines were open for results. The website indeed confirmed with that. The result had come out two hours before - at 4:00 a.m., I was on my way to confirm my result. And was only hurt again.
Somewhere in the mid, I called a friend to crib, hoping he'd have a lot to say in the matter. Surprisingly, he had scored a 93% and I was left staring at my face in the mirror wondering if I had hearing problems.

Never mind. A reporter from Zee News had called me a day before to ask if she could be home at 06:00am to catch my immediate reaction to the result and follow me up the entire day on what all I do post-results. The day before it sounded very exciting. Early wednesday morning, I felt embarassed. I had only been blessed with bare-adequate marks, they'd probably not want to feature me anymore. So when she called to confirm at five, I told her I had not scored well and she was free to change her mind. Dipti (from Zee News) only reaffirmed that she wished to feature me. Period.
And there she was on time lighting my room with a yellow glow and asking me to act to the best of my miserable abilities. It was great fun indeed. After a melodramatic drama at home, she asked me to drive around and then took me to school. The dudes at school were freaked out of their wits to see a camera following me exclusively. For the day indeed, I had scored over all the others - even if the CBSE results didn't agree.
Then we went off to Pizza Hut where they rudely refused to allow shooting, so we had to make a move to the pesky Nirula's where we had drinks while a press meet happened on an adjacent table and Dipti gave her ending remarks into the camera. Bidding her goodbye, we went back to Pizza Hut to devour chicken pizza's.
Then we (me and a friend) doodled in McDonalds for an hour before getting picked by my parents. On my way back, Dipti called again to ask if I could reach the studios the same night for a live discussion. I recultantly agreed. I hadn't slept for a long time and that was the first thing in my head.
At 5:00pm or so, I reached back home. I barely had enough time to catch a fifteen-minute-nap and change my clothes before a press car was there to pick me up. A blue Honda City. A yellowing pair of eyes. And rosy dreams.
I reached the studios half-hour late (Delhi traffic, of course), but was still on time since my interview was only some ten-minutes. It was live - so no thinking, no uhhms and no retakes. They asked me if I was happy with my results (NO!), if I was happy with the CBSE system (NO!) and if I was happy with the syllabus (NO!). I had a lot to say anti-education-system and the anchors smiled each time I blasted it.
This other guy next to me had scored a 94% and could not speak english. Must mention here that he got an 87 in his english exam. He could only mumble under his breath cliched answers about board syllabus being adequate, results exceeding his expectations and tips for students to keep studying till they drop. I wished they had asked me about tips for kids - I would've told them to go to Hawaii and get tanned in the sun. Not that hard work fetched me high marks - so why sweat?
Apparently, as I shot answers and he looked on bewildered, the anchors watched impressed passing wicked smiles and agreeing occassionally on what I had to say. Once done, they asked me what my plans were and when I told them that it was going to be next door (Noida Filmcity) - for a course in Production, Direction and T.V. Journalism, they showed their delight and said they looked forward to seeing me in their studios soon.
Before leaving back, I thanked the correspondent for the day's proceedings and expressed my gratitude for the exceptional coverage. On my way home, I received calls of congratulations. My 93% friend wanted to know why they chose me of all the brilliance in the city. Knowing well that I had missed the airing of the story that had been shot during the day, I was relieved that the day was at its end and my happiness was at its peak.
Back home I attended few of the dozens of calls that were made for me during the day for congratulating for my result/appearance. Then after a small dinner and almost twenty-four hours of nerve-wrecking excitement, I lay down replaying the day's events in brilliant colors in my head.
The transformation from the salty tears to sugary giggles made every worthwhile - even the bad english score suddenly seemed like an excuse for critisicm.
Of all the lessons life teaches us, you don't have to score well to master them all...

Here's the audio version of the Live discussion at Zee News studios. The female voice (the one thats not asking questions, but answering them) is me, the male voice is a guy who scored a 94% and an 87 in his english.
Kind of self-explanatory how great the education system is. And how reflective are the results of one's abilities.