Thursday, March 22, 2012

A end!

I can’t remember every story, there are just far too many to try.
Sitting next to you in class, eating our ‘tiffin’ together, I know I lost every pencil &‘rubber’ (eraser) I borrowed from you.
Buying SRK & Sachin postcards outside school, how we’d managed to sneak out just to watch India win.
The bus rides, the long walk back home and endless phone conversations that followed.
Back rest defined where we sat around the campus, not food and boys.
We made the local our house of madness, we really did love our train.
We were the eternal strategists, who only ever took one bad call.
We ‘loved’ our jobs and gave long lunches a whole new meaning.
The beach, a few cocktails, endless laughter and some fries made for a good life.
The perfect evening meant more than one cup of chai.
Every Friday night was a special occasion.
Drinks, music and places which felt like our own.
We devised theories on almost everything, and all of us now have a PhD in thinking,
There was singing, dancing, movies and all the drama.
12 AM calls, SMS, gchat, BBM, nothing was ever close to enough.
We’d laugh with everyone but I also cried with you.
I finished your lines, you read my mind.
We always knew what the other is going to say.
Once we had the wine, everything was absolutely fine.
Coffee and conversation worked on all other days.
We walked the talk, donuts, gelato...and some more walk.
Times have changed and things are different now.
We were great once but we may not always be the same.
At every stage of life, we leave something behind, only few will pass this test of time.
If everything has a start, it probably has an end.
Why are we so obsessed with forever and eternity?
It's about time we learn to say goodbye.

P.S: mot of my people are part of this in some way :-)

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Invisible Ears

When you say what you mean,
When you write what you don't say,
When you try to prove you are right,
When you know you messesd up,
When life is just so blahhh,
When you find the courage to face your darkest fears,
When you just about manage to fight away your tears,
When you blast the music just before the silence starts talking,
When your frustrations are louder than any car honking,
When you have a whole conversation in your head and not utter a word at all,
When that heart-felt smile says it all,
When you hold on to the phone and wonder what should I say,
When you believe I'm ok and keep everyone at bay,
When you pray for one but truly want another,
When you know what you should but you don't anyway,
When the heart and the mind are in one crazy race,
You may think all of this is just within,
But little do you know, I'm always listening.

Thursday, February 2, 2012


Someday the block will clear.
Someday grey will be the colour of the day.
Someday things will not always stay the same.
Someday right or wrong will be just words.
Someday decisions won’t be tough.
Someday life may not seem so rough.
Someday traffic will be a breeze.
Someday a sport will be just a game.
Someday we’ll be at peace with the self.
Someday we will not shy away from help.
Someday we’ll have all the answers.
Someday lyrics will conquer.
Someday the system will crack.
Someday there will be no more attacks.
Someday peace will be a reality.
Someday we’ll know when to let go.
Someday we’ll want to hear “I told you so.”
Someday they will understand.
Someday we’ll have quality time on our hands.
Someday we’ll go back to writing.
Someday talking will take over typing.
Someday phones will be just phones.
Someday pictures will be more about caring than sharing.
Someday we’ll tell someone we are not ok.
Someday a laptop will not sit between us.
Someday we won’t need a video to laugh.
Someday we’ll go out and buy a greeting card.
Someday : and ) will stay only on the keyboard.
Someday there will be no need for interpretation.
Someday we’ll stop using those nicknames.
Someday we’ll know the ones who matter.
Someday the hundreds will just be a number.
Someday, we will know we are sorted.
Someday patience will pay.
Someday someday will be here to stay.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Vijay Dinanth Chauhan or Satya? #sameguy: Film- Agony-Path

Now I’m not one to write mean things about Bollywood movies, I love them, but when I read people raving about a film which only deserves criticism if anything, I get a little pissed. If #Agneepath is trending, it should only trend due to the agony it must have caused several people who spent more than Rs.200 and three hours of their lives watching it. Damm.. I missed the Nadal- Federer match for this film. I like quite a few KJo movies and I love Hrithik, but this one.. this one’s an exception!

We all saw and loved the original; no one can and should even try to copy it, thankfully this one doesn’t either. I won’t totally spoil it with every little detail, just the parts that bothered me. So the new Agneepath starts off well, young, curly haired kid does alright to show both anger and emotion, very Vijay Dinanath Chauhan. The first half, in fact, is engaging where Vijay’s father is framed, humiliated and hanged in public by Kancha and Vijay and mother are forced to leave Mandwa and move to Mumbai. Enter Rishi Kapoor (Rauf Lala), the ‘abbajaan’ of Mumbai who hates Kancha and becomes Vijay’s godfather types.

We are still interested. Basically Vijay wants to rule Mumbai so he can get Mandwa from Kancha and avenge his father’s death. Ok, understood. So he gets Lala’s son killed, Lala gets a heart attack or whatever and boom.. Mumbai ka King kaun.. not Bhiku Mhatre, Vijay Dinanath Chauhan!.. We are watching Agneepath not Satya.. Oh wait..or are we??

Hmmmm, come to think of it, this Vijay Dinanth Chauhan of Agneepath and Satya...#sameguy. Satya is Bhiku’s right hand man, Vijay is Lala’s. Satya is obsessed with his love interest, Vijay with Mandwa. Both Satya and Vijay stab one of the bad guys during Ganpati Visarjan! I am telling you, #sameguy!! Hmmm...Ram Gopal Varma will not be happy when he realises this... if ever he does!

But to be fair to RGV, Satya was brilliant, Agneepath.. well...this will help you make up your mind:

So the police cannot stop the public auctioning of a girl, incidentally Vijay’s sister, but obviously Vijay and his eunuch friends can.

Vijay‘s only motive in life is to get Mandwa and after he strikes a deal with Kancha for it, he kind of forgets about it. He comes back home, you know, chills a bit, re-unites with his family,gets a little married, the usual soap opera stuff. After all, what’s the rush, it’s a three hour longggg film!

In the end, Vijay obviously goes to Mandwa to kill Kancha, so obviously he has bombs and all to blow up the place, but obviously, he does not have a gun, not even a knife. I mean, why does he really need it anyway, Kancha ke liye toh uske haath hi kaafi hain!!

Imagine this: big man Kancha has stabbed Vijay four times and dragged him on rocks to take him to the same Bargad ka Ped where he hung his father and Vijay, miraculously still alive, suddenly gets up, in almost full power!! How you ask? Simple, the very symbolic Bargad ka Ped!! In true Ekta Kapoor style, a hat-trick of flashes of the tree and It’s all coming back to me (courtesy Celine Dion), Vijay lifts Kancha up and throws him down while all the villagers cheer him in the background. They are just an audience, they can’t help..itne paise mein itnahich milega ok!Now remember Kancha is much older than Vijay, so he has weak bones and all so he gets hurt and then minutes later is hanging from the same dam tree!!

Priyanka Chopra is also in the movie yes, I think this movie has done complete justice to her. This is the exact amount of screen time and dialogues she deserves to get in every film. Hrithik is well Hrithik, you have to love him, especially in the Ganpati Visarjan scene. Sanjay Dutt does a good evil laugh. Chikni Chameli is awesome! They somehow forgot about Om Puri towards the end and rightly so. Rishi Kapoor is evil and kind of lecherous, very well done!!

If only people tweeting about Agneepath would stop trying to turn Twitter into another Times of India, a Bollywood buff like me, would not have to resort to this.