Teaching the Yanks a thing or two

I love The IPL. As an average Indian somewhere somehow cricket is a part of some yet to be identified strand of DNA in some chromosome in my body.
My Love for IPL springs not just from this gene but from the gene which gave me love for marketing.

Till the IPL juggernaut rolled the Yanks had claim for best effort in sport marketing, starting from concept selling, to endorsing merchandising they had done it all. Imagine getting a few clubs together and calling it the World Series. Yeah! the world lies in between the Pacific and the Atlantic stretching from coast to coast!! Include the Canadians, Mexicans and a few other Hispanics and we should be thankful they didn't start a Universe Series.

IPL, did not need the world prefix, Indian premier League was sufficient, the world comes to play here. Does the world see it on TV who knows and cares. The Indian TRP`s are itself mindboggling. Create some teams with filthy rich owners, throw in a few short skirts, the best of talent, loads of money and IPL is born.

Teams with less than creative names 2 kings, 2 claiming royal lineage, a knight, a war horse,a daredevil and a plain simple Indian combined together in bright colours. It was Bollywood meets India Fashion week meets cricket.

Boy was it packaged well, the models the starlets, the star owners it was one fancy Ramlila maidan after another across India. It was equally good as the bandwagon rolled to South Africa.

They threw Gandhiji out of a railway carriage we threw their whole world out of orbit. Blawdy Hell! Am told the whole country is still walking dazed. Imagine a stadium full of banners, hoardings and boards all advertising products which are not available and which in the near future will never be available in their super markets. All for a billion lying across the globe!

It was all about creating a product which caters to virtually everybody, the cricket lover, the sport lover, the fashion lover, the gossip lover, the voyeur. Package it all with bright colours and fireworks, reach the length and breadth of the nation and demand your price.
Voila! You have a Winner.

Yeah! IPL may have been waiting to happen, but we caught it by the scruff of its neck and made it happen. The yanks could never take their world series outside the US and expect to survive. They don't even dare to take it to Canada. IPL went to South Africa and is back here saying Hi! Missed you India!

That is what I call the power of a billion.

HOPE

Crawling through slime
Plodding through sand
Rocks and brambles tearing the soul
Thirst burns, Lungs yearn, eyes seek.

Is it Light
Am I feeling air
Is that the proverbial Silver Lining
Heart beats faster

Will the dice fall this time
Is it Pausupathi with Pasupathasatra
or is it a common tribal hunter
Fate is it a Mirage

Time I await your reply....

The Mesmerising Kaleidoscopic Palace

Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni-CBD (Its too difficult typing out her small name with two long unhyphenated surnames) and I got off to a bad first date, not her problem nor was it mine. I first saw a CBD with a girl, whom I considered to be the intellectual equivalent of a medium size gnat. Hence CBD and I got off on the wrong foot.

This combined with Aishwarya Rai Bachhan (oh another Double surname. What’s with these women.....? let me not digress, that’s matter for another post) starring in Mistress Of Spice had me convinced its best I stay away from CBD. I had read a couple of her books Vine of Desire, Sister of My heart, Mistress of Spice - to be honest did not dislike her but my early prejudice prevented my complete enjoyment of her writing.

Palace Of Illusions shattered my prejudice.

I have been exposed to The Mahabharata at various stages of my life. My first experience was when Muthassan (Me Gran-Dad) got all of us noisy cousins around his armchair and gave us the story like a TV serial one hour everyday all from memory. He successfully got a bunch of unruly kids to be on their best behaviour for half the summer vacation!

My next tryst with the epic was C.Rajagopalachari`s Childrenss Mahabharata. Loved it and reread it many times, even after growing a moustache and learning to shave. During this time MaliBharatham by Mali a children’s writer in Malayalam. (Loved him when I was kid, thanks Dad for introducing Mali to me and for giving me this love for books and reading.) Not to forget the miserable Hindi Non detail text in Std VIII. (I hated it). Oh Amar Chitra Katha`s were a constant companion, borrowed from friends and libraries and begged from my thrifty folks.

I grew up and read more versions of The Mahabharata, numerous to be named. Read interpretations of the Mahabharatha like MT Vasudevan Nair’s Randaam Oozham (Translated from Malayalam - Second Turn ) Mahabharatha from Bheema`s perspective (TOW loves this), Bharatha Paryadanam - Kutti Krishna Marar (A Treatise of Mahabharata in Malayalam) and Shashi Tharoor`s The Great Indian Novel (Not too bad, very well researched).

And then landed Palace of Illusions from TOW`s book buying spree. Three Oh`s followed in quick succession. A pleasing Oh! after seeing the well designed cover page, a disappointed Oh! after seeing the author and finally an interested Oh! after reading the back page. Took up the book as nothing else was available and did not put it down till I reached the end.

For a book which has no suspense and whose plots are sub plots are well known it was amazing that I found it un-put-downable.

All the old characters were there but they had a different sheen. Draupadi was brilliant through out. Bhima and Draupadi relationship thought inspiring. Was CBD`s Dhirthrashta influenced by B R Chopra and DD. Bhishma had shades of the Chopra influence. Shikandi and karna too characters who have been brushed aside one as a eunuch and the other as a luckless bastard take on a diffrent hue. Kunthi turns from a helpless widow to a sharp and conspiring woman.


All in all BRILLIANT. Go read it.

I am with The Pregnant King and he or is it she will soon feature here. The palace got me so hooked on, that when I saw the King I had to have him/her then and there. So far money well spent.

P.S I had planned this post earlier and seem to have lost steam midways. apologies

WAR and PEACE

peace
–noun
1. the normal, nonwarring condition of a nation, group of nations, or the world.
2. often initial capital letter) an agreement or treaty between warring or antagonistic nations, groups, etc., to end hostilities and abstain from further fighting or antagonism: the Peace of Ryswick.
3. a state of mutual harmony between people or groups, esp. in personal relations: Try to live in peace with your neighbors.

This is what dictionary.com has to say on peace (the first three meanings).

I would dare guess that Nobel Peace prize would be awarded for improving condition 1, 2 or 3.

Lets analyze each of them.

Meaning 1 : the normal, nonwarring condition of a nation, group of nations, or the world

OOOPS cant mean this! War is a permanent condition. Friends today, partner tomorrow at War day after!!

Meaning 2: (often initial capital letter) an agreement or treaty between warring or antagonistic nations, groups, etc., to end hostilities and abstain from further fighting or antagonism: the Peace of Ryswick.

Agreement or treaty, hmmmmmmm, let me think, nope cannot be this. End to hostilities, hmmmmmmm not this one! Abstain from further fighting - Ha ha ha ha ha, You must be joking how will our people eat if we dont fight. So cant be 2. 3 it must be

Meaning 3: a state of mutual harmony between people or groups, esp. in personal relations: Try to live in peace with your neighbors. aaaah! that must be it Mexico and Canada live in a state of perpetual bliss and in harmony with the US.

AND THAT`S HOW BARRACK OBAMA GOT THE NOBEL PRIZE

Till now I believed wiping clean the posterior of an influential person using your tongue was a corporate phenomenon. Didn't realise the eminent Nobel Panel loved this famous sport. Practiced by many of my betters.

Dont get me wrong, am not a Obama hater or a US hater. But, come on..... Let that guy be in office for a couple of years then give it to him, maintain decencies. The guy was in office for what 3 weeks before he was nominated!!!!

Remember Gorgons whose looks could kill,Corollary, Obama whose talk brings peace. Platinum Tongue, anyone! No more forked tongues, A solidly fused tongue is in vogue.

Hear Ye, permit Obama to talk nonstop for 365 days and we will have world peace.

Bloody hell give it any of the various Miss World`s, Miss Universe`s and others they always talk World Peace. Atleast they wont Justify War while receiving the Peace Prize!

P.S : There Goes my chances of a US Visa

P.P.S If I go missing look for me at Guantanamo Bay.

How Chetan Bhagat Stole my story!

I just finished reading 2 States and I am seething with Indignation!

Before Chetan Bhagat, Rupa&Co and assorted others run off to sue me. Let me assure you all that I am worth peanuts, those too bad quality peanuts. Let me present my case and then we shall get the guys in coats and collars involved.

Oh! There are a few questions you want me answer. Most willingly.

As they show in movies I have my hand over a convenient holy book and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but truth, oh and answer your questions also.

Q: Do you know Chetan Bhagat
A: Yes I do

Q: How do you know him?
A: I have read all of his books (Liked them and re read them) and I know him as the author and have seen his photographs in book covers and newspapers.

Q: Does Chetan Bhagat Know you
A: I don’t think so

Q:Have you Met CB.
A: Nope, not at all. Don’t even think we have been near each other.

Q: (In perplexed tone) Have you both ever corresponded, letters, emails, phone calls
A: Oh you mean like that guy who attempted suicide in his book. No not at all

Q: Do you think CB or some one employed by him burgled your house or hacked your computer
A: Why are you asking this? My complaint was he stole my story not stole jewellery from the house (said for local effect, more like used kitchen utensils) or hacked my bank passwords (He! He! He! let any one try that bank will ask him to pay past dues and then log out.)

Stern Warning issued! No jokes answer to the question

Q: Where have you kept the draft of the story
A: What draft

Q: Of the story you wrote:
A: I didn’t write any story

Q: (In exasperation) You are the one who claimed CB stole your story!
A: Oh that! If your questions are over I will explain. Please do not interrupt my flow.


My story begins ....

Anand sits on the sea face Opposite Air India Building, Nariman Point, Mumbai. The sea is rough with incoming rain clouds and matching the turmoil in his head. He has no idea how he reached there, in his hands a letter from Pooja telling him that she is no more his. She is walking away from their 5 years as both of them are not able to get parental consent for their marriage. Its better they both suffer pain rather than allow their parents to suffer the pain.

Anand was going mad with pain and grief, he was finding it difficult to breathe. Does he walk into the sea, is the train better, and is there a faster quicker way. He doesn’t know. Only thing he feels is pain, searing pain through each of his nerve cells as if each and every nerve is on fire.

Somehow, he finds his way to a cab and mumbles airport. Mahalaksmi. Haji Ali, Worli, Mahim all passed un noticed. The cabbies worried eyes kept darting to the rear view mirror. “Saab, Kuch bad news milla. Gaon jaa rahe ho?” Mumbled response the cabby leaves him to his grief till the airport. Anand had to be helped out by the driver, the girl and the ticketing counter asked where without the usual smile. Bangalore, Mumbled Anand. Got a Rs. 4000.00 one way ticket paid on the credit card. How will he pay it back with salary of Rs. 7000 per month never crosses his mind.

The flight was boarding and the plane was virtually empty. As the doors closed and the stewardess walked with a dazzling smile, he was transported back ....


She walked in a bright colorful clothes, to be more precise her smile walked in and without realizing he looses his heart to her. She notices him smiles and sits a few seats away. That was how Pooja arguably the best looking girl and Anand unarguably the worst looking dude of the class of 94 met.


This is how my story begins and goes on about their love. How every one else but they recognize it, but as they do not recognize it every one accepts them for what they always were and always will be True Friends. My story had reached their marriage but I did not have nice ending worked out.

Now look at 2 states

Krish is with a shrink. In desperation as Ananya says they cannot be together ever. The story moves to a flash black with the canteen scene. And then how they get married and all obstacles in between.

See the similarity!

This is not all my story has a friends marriage happening instead of a cousins. There are sections/chapters on studying together, going to Pondicherry, the expensive STD bills, everything is there. Including the desperation to not elope but get parental consent from both sides.

To top it all Anand and Pooja were MBA students.

Now tell me, isn’t my story line very very similar to 2 States. And this really takes the cake, CB says 2 states is inspired by his life and My story is loosely based on mine!

Now do you believe me, when I say,” Chetan Bhagat Stole my story."

I Rest my case

The only problem here is this story was never written down; it was and is there in my head. I have it chapter wise and scene wise sorted and kept ready. How did CB get it from there is the great mystery.

This is not the first time it is happening to me all my ideas are regularly stolen from me. Sigh! I am the world most wronged against person! Double Sigh!

CB what was the name of the shrink in Chennai. Maybe a beautiful shrink is what I need!


Note: This is not intended to cast any doubt on the originality of 2 States. I do not claim in my wildest dreams that 2 States was plagiarized in any form from any where.

I have read 2 states, it is very very interesting and funny. As usual CB has produced a neat and enjoyable best seller.

What my story did not have was a great ending, if I ever publish my story the ending will draw creative inspiration from 2 states.

Diwali Blues

After Diwali is what I am
Burnt paper and metal ends lying in a heap
Sweep them and set fire to them
Bits of sparklers come to life
Ghosts of what they were!

Ghosts they remain
Awaiting Rama`s return
Lakshmi`s Glory or Krishna`s Triumph
To burst again in all splendour
As a thousand dazzling suns in heaven

Bhartiya Nari

Self was stranded at a railway station late at night awaiting TOW and SnH, for newbies The Other Woman and Son & Heir, when I witnessed this drama. This one act play left me with emotions which did not make sense was I angry, sad, bewildered, bemused. I do not Know. What should have I done or what could I do. I do not Know.You tell me!

A lady was sitting on the platform, with a very dirty bundle. A TTE speaks to her, maybe asking her ticket or telling her no begging allowed or what ever. The TTE was not shouting nor did his body language appear to be threatening.

Enter left center, typical drunk, clothes face and hair in disarray and dirty and smelling like a particularly evil distillery.

Drunk: (Shouting) Sir, Is this daughter of a W***e, disturbing you.

TTE ignoring him addresses the woman (not unkindly) and moves away.

Drunk: Putting his face close to the lady and still shouting hoarsely and slurring words. Daughter of a B***h how dare you talk to a man, when your husband is not here.

The scene has the undivided attention of Platforms 3 and 4 and some curious fellows from Platform 2.

Drunk: Goes on to berate the woman on virtues of a good wife and asks her to open the bundle and show everyone that she has not been stealing.

(No One the TTE included accused her of being a thief). The lady keeps looking down on the platform floor not responding. The drunk lifts his hand to strike her again demanding she open the bundle, calling her various animal names and talking about her body parts and her character. Finally the lady opens her bundle to display her wares, I could see onlookers craning necks to see, what is there. The Drunk abuses her more and walks away.

WHY WHY WHY did the lady stay so silent and subdued never raising her head never protesting the verbal abuse. Is it because she felt the man is the best she can get. If yes, how did she become like that. What circumstances drove her to be a fatalist. In between where did she loose her sense of self. WHO was the drunk? her husband? her brother? her only male relative?

HOW could people including me stand sit listen to this tirade. Have we lost our will to respond, where is the so called sense of chivalry. Would it have been a different reaction if the lady was young and glamorous?

I do not know. And what morbid need are we satisfying by staring into the open bundle of harassed insulted lady.

Was she a Bhartiya Nari, the epitome of Indian womanhood?


P.S I began by referring to the lady as woman, but her quite dignity in spite of all she faced made me go back and change every woman to lady. For to me she was a lady i will give her that respect. At least in cyber world she should get the respect which fate snatched from her in the real world.