Bondage

Why don’t you say something?

Something? Anything?

Why do you think I look up at the stars?

Why do you think the blood runs in my veins?

Why do you think I take my tied body out to the world?

Why do you think I wait an endless wait?

Why would my parched lips sing your praise?

When there’s nothing to say.

Why don’t you say something?

Would you rather I walked away?

Unannounced? Unrepentant?

Unsure of where my feet lead me?

Why would you not let me be?

Alone?

Why would you keep coming back to my dreams?

They turn into nightmares.

Why would you not lift your curse?

Why would you mock in rare glee?

Why would you not let me live?

For once?

Free Fall

The angel looked at His Lord for the last time. He knew there would not be any sense of emotion in Those eyes and yet he hoped to find an answer. The task he had been sent out for was yet incomplete. In fact, in what could be called at its best incomplete information, he was asked to figure out the task and complete it. The Lord had promised that he would understand it all when the task was done.

He had travelled across the Universe to find his task and yet he could not. But everywhere he went, he felt more and more human. The Ethereal soul that he had started with was slowly getting extinguished. Today as he stood, he had trouble remembering that he was an angel. He had been born and re born so many times in a human body he did not even remember when was the first time he had opened his eyes to look at a face that had resembled his Lord’s.

Today as he stood before his Lord he saw Vivacious, his best friend, his worst enemy and another of Lord’s angels. V was standing in front of the Eternal Throne as well but he wasn’t tied up. He did look haggard, all of them did, but he was still undefeated. His heart felt proud for V. He had survived the onslaught of Maya, the enchantress. All around him angels lay dying, losing their spirits, succumbing to Maya and yet V stood still.

He remembered a conversation with V while they were facing Caesar for the first time outside Rome. He had laughed at V asking me to not let his mind get rigid but embrace Maya to be able to move out of it. Today, he felt a pang of jealousy. Maybe the rigidity was what had saved V, the last angel standing.

The Lord raised his eyes and slowly the heaven’s flew upwards. He was in Free Fall. One more life was spent in vain searching for the task. The empty space flew past him. Once he hit the ground, it would all be over but he knew his fall will be prolonged. This was the punishment for the most loved Angels. All through they would wonder if they deserve this and if they will ever know what the task really is. Legends have it that at times new wings grow out of their bloodied bodies as they are falling and they can fly back from mortality.

He was in Free fall. He prayed, not for miracle but for V to find the answer that he would now not know for another life, till another age.

Sex, Morality and Censorship

We went to watch a play called Sex, Morality and Censorship and to be honest, I missed the first part of the play. But that does not stop me from declaring that this was one fascinating play. Seldom have I seen a play that was so physical, that reverberated with the energy of the actors on the stage. That spoke of a story of struggle, of belief, of fights for a cause.

Sakharam Binder was one of the most famous creations of Vijay Tendulkar. To the society of the 70s, Sakharam was a culture shock beyond anything. India was yet to come out of its closet. Its sense of morality was still dominated by a false sense of nationalism rather Indianism. People campaigned to stop its screening. The political parties unanimously spoke against it without ever seeing the play. And the team fought for the right for art to survive and be free from all influences.

Sex, Morality and Censorship documents this journey and does it exceedingly well. And I really want to watch this play again. On time, in Full :)

But the question lies elsewhere. I have always been vocal about complete freedom in expression of ideas because no age can decide for itself if an idea is the Word of God for a future generation. And therein one can find the seeds of discontent and the efforts to control freedom of thought and speech. People have often played the responsible speech card against this argument. But then responsibility is also something that is relative. Society decides what responsible behaviour is and like most things society once static for a long time, stagnates in its thought as well. And there you require policing and with policing starts control and with control begins the advent of Big Brother.

Who decides where the line is to be drawn?

Goodbye Geoffreys

So finally I shall no longer visit South Bombay as I used to. The office has finally decided to let go of the legacies of the past and move to a swankier new building in the famous environs of Andheri. The Great Chakala is the place now where the fate of Soaps, shampoos and soups and their sellers will be decided. And of course toothbrushes. Sibs is in the building beside me.

The last one week was therefore painful. Apart from the fact that I realized I have more things on my desk than I have space for in the new office, it was also a time to let go off things I had become accustomed to. The late lunches at Oxford Cha Bar, the tea seller who used to sell tea to the tea sellers, the sandwich man, the peanut guy, Eros night show, Colaba dinners, calling people and cancelling get togethers as I was “still in town”. No longer staring at the Queen’s Necklace when you are upset with the office. No longer calling up A and asking him to meet me at Marine Drive whether or not he has made a few million pounds in the day’s trading, No longer sitting at the last stone facing TIFR and wishing to be alone amongst the crowd.

It was a nice farewell to the place that has been my home for close to two years now. But the hardest part was saying Goodbye to Geoffreys. Set bang in the heart of Nariman Point, Geoffreys was the piece of England in the heart of Bombay and as much as I love to be an Indian, years of studying Shakespeare has left a little bit of anglophile within me who loved the quaint British pub feel. And the music, the music was always beautiful. It always played the music I grew up on. G and I had made it a custom almost to visit it every fortnight when I would order my Cloud 9 and he is Virgin Mary and as we drank our poisons and chewed on the tortilla chips, which got refilled regularly, we would talk about where life was leading us.

The last day at Geoffrreys was therefore special. And we walked out of a relationship, happy and content. We will of course go back to the place as this will always remain my favourite pub in Bombay but then it will not be the place where I call up G or A and say, “enough work. Let’s go” and they would know where I want to go.

Where is the Universe when you need it?

Given the fact that “the words of our prophets are written on subway walls”, I could not help but wonder at the fact that being directionless is something that we excel at. Imagine a situation when we look for inspiration at the Badshah of Bandstand who in his numerous “holier than thou” roles on silver screen have told us about ‘Kaynaad’ or universe conspiring to give you what you want. So like millions in the country I too believe him, irrespective of the fact that I am more eagerly waiting for ‘Rann’ than ‘My name is Khan’.

Anyway, the problem with the whole universe thing is that the universe needs a question. But Winnie the Pooh and I have had just one question that has troubled us all our lives, “What’s for breakfast?” Beyond that it has been answers, either thought through logically or irrationally. But the answers have been there. And you could fall back to 42 whenever you felt like it. The important thing is to ask the right question.

These days, “Aal izz well” seems to be the new mantra. And though I am sure that the movie is way way better than the book (which I have not read and don’t intend to either), I think the movie could just have been better if Aamir did not take the same holier than thou approach as the other Khan does. I mean, we all love to see underdogs win and we all love to see genius flourish in front of bitter adversity but then Life just isn’t fair. In life Sharman would die, Madhavan would have left his camera back home in some forgotten corner of his cupboard and Aamir would have been married with kids by the time Kareena came running. But then the movies help us forget reality, don’t they?

I also completed the long pending viewing of Rocket Singh, sometime back and it really didn’t cut any ice. While I appreciate the story of a person building an organization which promises what it does, I think it made little sense to run an operation that made little or no business sense. And as much as I appreciate Shimit Amin’s efforts and identify with the problems as shown, I am sure there is always a better way out, than starting a non sustainable business model. This is perhaps where the entrepreneurial spirit within me has taken a backseat. I still remember that once I told 2 friends who had not a clue about formatting “chill dudes. Karte karte sikh lenge yaar.” I think therein lies the difference. Today I have been trained to do risk analysis and not success planning.

Then came the question of the Muse. Guy Ritchie is a great movie maker but Conan Doyle’s spirit was crying in my dreams the other night. Sherlock Holmes was always cocky, he wasn’t ever moony. He was sarcastic, oh yes he was, but not outright pedantic. Anyway, whoever was the detective, the Good Dr. Watson made up for it. Jude Law was extremely impressive, much more than our poor apparition of Sherlock Holmes. But it was Irene Adler that caught my attention. Given that the only thing common between Sherlock Holmes and Pyaar Impossible was a man’s relationship with his muse, both made entertaining watch. And while people might lose the subtlety or the finesse, it makes sense to pause and think if the greatest wars of legends had a story of the Hero and the Muse.

The week has been good. Friends have given news that has been happy, funny and interesting. V came down from Chennai to meet a few of us. And as we discussed, I realized that for all of us, the wheels have been set in motion and the rest as they say is in the hands of Kaynaad :)

PS: Year end sentimentalities end with this post. Back to business of “Happy blogging” now.

Good Triumphs Over Evil

Around December, I could sense a change in the air. Something sinister was coming our way. I could feel it. Slowly like every scary movie (Paranormal Activity is not scary. Period) my room mates started changing. You could see the shadow of evil in their eyes. They were conspiring against me. I could feel that.

I knew “one who must not be named” was coming in December. Our rent was due for renewal. The Landlord wanted to negotiate, the office was shifting to Andheri, the planets were coming together to form the unholy nexus.

And then they said it. “Can we look at houses near office?” The transformation had been completed. They had gone over to the dark side. They tied me up and put me in the car and took me to Andheri. I was sure to be slaughtered in the dungeons somewhere. All across Andheri, minions of Evil Warlords had dug up pits of doom. One day, humans would hopefully run trains there.

But then the unthinkable happened. The car started moving towards Powai. I mean Powai? Why Powai? When they untied my hands and feet, I sat down on the steps of Galleria and wept. “Take me back to Bandra. I want to have another year there”, I wailed.

Then there was a bolt of lightning from heavens above. Our Landlord realized that we are nice boys who leave for office at 8, never come back before 8 and pretty much are invisible. Then Christmas Spirit came and decided to give us a gift. The Christmas Spirit found us another house much better than the one we were staying in and gave me back my old room mates free from the influence of evil.

And we did the unthinkable in Mumbai. We moved South. Even though, it was by 500 meters, we did move South. Hear, ideally there should be drums and whistles ringing at the achievement.

Of course, as we understand, the cost of living goes up by a notch due to this move, but if by paying that you can stay in the house opposite your childhood crush, who cares!!! The guard better be right about my new neighbour.

Looking Back

Yes, you are right. This is the classic year end post and as much as I hate to write it, I think the year deserves a post to itself. Also a friend called and asked me to write – anything and something. And it’s nice for the ego to be boosted on the last day of the year.

Lots changed this year. I worked like a lunatic against all sane advice of not falling in love with the job. It’s only today that I realize that like everything in excess, this too takes its toll. Like a run down battery, the weekend would be used to recharge. But that’s not the point. On the last day of the year one should be thankful of all the good things that have happened in one’s life. And I have many to be thankful for.

But let me not bore you with my life. Because on the last day of the year the only one emotion you should have is that of hope. I still remember as a kid, I never realized what the fuss was all about the New Year. On the 1^st of Jan, nothing used to change in my life. It’s only when I grew up I understood its significance. In marketing terminology, it’s called the power of a ritual.

When you see the calendar change, you begin to feel a new hope that everything will turn for the better. We do not celebrate mornings as they come everyday. But a New Year comes once in 365 days. That allows this day to become a ritual. And therein stays the power of this day, Tomorrow anything might happen. It’s a New Year after all.

Hope, the greatest intoxicant in my life and it helped me tonight as well. Around half an hour back I was playing with my music player and suddenly “Wish you were here” started playing. Searing pain ripped through my very existence for no rhyme or reason. There was a crazy sense of loss – I do not know for what or for who but I knew one thing. My last hours of 2009 would not be like this.

So as I switched on the laptop for this post, I hoped for redemption. And it came in the form of music itself –

Jaane kyun dil jaanta hai

Tu hai to I ll be all right

I ll be all right

I ll be all right

Thanks for being there dear reader. Knowing that you all are reading helps me to write even when creativity loses track in the woods.