Telly Tales part-2

If I gave the impression in this post that I've grown up watching only English television, let me not delude you. Fortunately I grew up in times when Doordarshan produced cult shows and Indian television had not been besmirched by the crass commercialization. The private channels too were not the money-spinning, balderdash churning channels that they've become today.
Here are a few personal favorites.

1. Malgudi Days

This is the first television series that sprang up in my mind when I was thinking of good old Doordarshan days.

Who can forget the mischievous Swami ? His Calvin-like unwillingness to go to school., his constant tomfoolery, his best friends Mani and Rajam. A masterpiece penned down by R.K Narayan and the hilarious sketches done by brother R.K Laxman proved to be a lethal combination. Of all the stories I was most inclined to the ones that featured under ' Swami and Friends'. What's more! Even the title tune was so catchy- "Ta na na tana nana na..ta na na tana nana na". :) Malgudi days were fun days.

2. Chitrahaar

 

Long before MTV came to India in an aeroplane, long before we requested our cable-walla to tune in Channel V,. long before You and Tube became a single word-there was Chitrahaar. And Wednesdays were changed forever. Every Wednesday at 8:30 P.M we would huddle in the living room and watch with rapt attention the Bollywood music being televised. I was quite small then, but my enjoyment was not. I loved Bollywood songs! The captivating music,the dancing around trees, the change of costumes within seconds. It was my first glimpse into the world of cinema, and...Mercy! I was awed by these movie stars at that time. I thought they were really remarkable people as they could  sing so melodiously without catching their breaths while doing those graceful dance movements! Also the fact that they could change their clothes, jewelery and make-up faster than I could untie my ribbon seemed to be a superhuman feat. I don't know how many times have I looked back and thought- "God, I was stupid!"

3. Mahabharat

          Ath Shri Mahabharat Katha

          Katha hain purushaarth ki, yeh swaarth ki, paramaarth ki

          Saarthi jinke bane Shri Krishna, Bharat Parth ki

Mahabharat has always appealed to me. I think it still is the greatest story ever told, scoring above Ramayan or any other epic. Maybe because the characters were so much human, totally susceptible to human frailty. It practically established the adage-to err is human. There is possibly no human emotion that this epic skips. You've got love, lust, trust,betrayal, fear, jealousy, anger, rage, remorse, hatred, disappointment, sadness, humiliation, euphoria, guilt, sympathy, nervousness, forgiveness and many more.

When I was in 7th, along with the regular text book and work book 

we had an entire book of Mahabharat in Hindi. Reading the book, and watching the show side by side turned out to be quite an experience.

4. Potli Baba ki 

  

The picture of this show is unavailable on the internet. But I vividly remember this one. A wise and shrunken old storyteller would regale me endlessly with stories of Ali Baba and forty thieves, and of Aladin.

               Ghungar wali, Chhenu wali, Jhunnu ka Baba

                 Kisson ka, kahaaniyon ka geeto ka chhaba  :)

5. Chhoti si asha

Now, this one was a heart rending tale. One of those simple and humane stories that show you how very remarkable human bondages are, even the non-blood ones. I miss such story-lines these days. A very well defined, artistically portrayed story that had the power to induce in you beautiful feelings that were happy and melancholy from time to time-that's what this series was all about. This was a story of a newly-widowed, jobless mother who was forced to give away her children in adoption after she came to know she was dying. By the time a good Samaritan helped her through her operation and she came to know that she will survive after all, the children were dispersed in different parts of India and happily adjusted to their new lives. Then, the story shifts to their adulthood, the search, the hesitance of the mother to meet her children and yet a yearning to do so, the non-recognition of her children, the reunion of the mother with their children, the siblings with each other. 

The only show till date, wherein I actually loved 'the leap'. A beautifully written and directed  show! And the actors were a cut above today's hamming actors.

This one too was originally aired in DD National, but I watched it in the re-runs in Sony TV.

6. Hum Paanch

 The Czarina Kapoor can almost be forgiven for torturing the entire nation with her hopeless tearjerkers just for producing this one. When the other world was watching a popular sitcom featuring six friends, India was getting tickled by five rather troublesome daughters. The 'tapori' language popularized by Kajal bhai had become quite a lingo amongst girls, and so had Sweety's rummy habit of opening the door only after singing a song. I remember picking up that habit myself for a short while! All in all Hum Paanch was 30 minutes well invested.


7. Dekh bhai dekh

Before most of them went on to become our favorite telly stars in different serials, Jaya Bachchan had clustered all of them together in Dekh bhai dekh.It was a family comedy, mostly nonsensical .Definitely a good time pass, but more importantly a good family time pass show.

8. Just Mohabbat 

Welcome to the world of Jay. His school, teachers, parents, sister, crushes, girlfriend and imaginary friend. Every school-goer could relate to this show. The unadulterated friendships, playing for hours, the menace of homework, dodging the bullies,standing up to them eventually, laughing at the expense of the teachers, group projects, sleepovers. Sigh! This was also a coming of age TV show for me. I was on the gateway of my teenage. Had just started to look at my male classmates differently. They were not gross and stupid anymore. Beginning of teenage is a time in life when one is very impressionable, very malleable. And this show made a huge impact on my life then .I came to know what dating meant, what kind of hints to drop and what kinds to pick up, what guys talk about, what they actually say and what they mean to say.And of course- how utterly awesome high school was going to be! And then college-Oh my! College was going to be a paradise. I, at times, get jealous of my earlier self. Granted I was a fool, but I was also so much alive, so happy. So hopeful. When I thought of future, all I could see was a world full of infinite opportunities. There was nothing that was improbable or unattainable.

9. Saboot

Years before I had picked up my first Agatha Christie, I knew that Crime was my favorite genre. That was when I started watching Saboot. This little popular serial was absolutely mind blowing. And original, mind you. I still vividly remember an episode about a murder during a beauty pageant-still gives me the creeps. Then there was one about an old man who died in his room and his much younger wife was accused of the murder. What a unique solution that one had! Even Christie never wrote a story with that kind of plot.

And the character of Inspector KC was again singularly superb. I just love female detectives. That's right, I'd any day  prefer Marple over Poirot. This particular character that the supremely talented Anita Kanwar (of Buniyaad fame) essayed was messy, clumsy, sensitive, empathetic and Genius!  

Unfortunately, this series is nowhere to be found on the cyberspace. So either you were fortunate enough to watch it, or you missed a superb series of Indian whodunit. 

Well..that's my list. Did I miss out something significant? Do let me know. I also plan to write a similar post on  90s' long lost cartoons very soon :)

So long!

Little Women

Statutory warning : A painfully long post

If there has been a lapse of over a month between my last post and this one, I have little to blame it on the nonavailability of time. For I have only been moderately busy, and could have always got down to blog if I wanted to. But I didn't. Lack of inspiration can be a vile thing indeed.

So I attribute this sudden whim to blog once again to two extraordinary women- one fictional, another real. I refer to the inspiring and individualistic Josephine March, and the brilliant authoress Louisa May Alcott who created her.

I was a little embarrassed in the beginning to have started reading a book that I ought to have read when I was fourteen or fifteen. I have neither any idea as of why I didn't, nor any memory of being suggested to devour the great work. But having read it now, I think it is better that I discovered this book at one-and-twenty and not in my early teens. Reason being my absolute quixotic temperament back then. I'm not denying that my traits have not changed one bit, and I'm still as quixotic as I was, but with age comes a little pragmatism.

I grew fonder of Jo's character as the story progressed. I couldn't figure out while reading who of the four charming sisters was the main protagonist as the book gave all the four little women equal measures of attention, but couldn't help picking a favorite. Your favorite is the one you can relate to. Now that can be really tricky, you know. Because no two persons are entirely similar, and any girl can find one or more similar characteristic between her and any other female counterpart. So look for a character for whom your heart- celebrates when her efforts are acknowledged as they rightly should have been, mourns when she doesn't get what she wants for it reminds you of some of your own missed buses, defends her flaws for it knows that you have the same ones, seconds her decisions, desperately wishes she must not have the damned fate that looms somewhere around, is relieved to find that the bad spell is over for her. Yes, that's your protagonist! A person after your own foolish heart.

So, yes I rather liked the obstinate yet devoted tomboy, who turned out to be the main protagonist after all, but it was only after I finished the book and researched a bit about it did I come to know that Jo March is often recognized as an extraordinary literary heroine, very much like Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice. But unlike Jane Austen who-much to the sentimental joy of her readers- penned a fairytale ending for Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, Louisa May Alcott broke many a hearts when she didn't unite Jo and Laurie-or Teddy as only Jo would call him. Of course she didn't keep her an old maid and brought to her world more happiness than she deserved( in Jo's own words) by getting her married to Prof. Bhaer, whom she tenderly loved. And Laurie after nursing a wounded heart from Jo's blunt refusal, began to ardently love and admire Jo's youngest sister Amy, who subsequently became his wife. Even though the ending was perfectly merry with the comforting presence of a big happy family, I felt felt there was something amiss. With little self-absorption I found what. I discovered that I'd have rather had Jo accept Laurie's proposal, for they were so meant for each other! For backing my feeling I began the research, and by Jove! did the whole world echoed my views or what? For they did, and passionately so! I read how Louisa.M. Alcott was harried with heaps of letters from fans requesting to change her mind about Jo and Laurie, and how she remained perverse about it. But then it was the love, response and demands of her fans that made her script Jo's marriage because originally she was to remain-as I understood-a literary spinster, like herself, as the character itself was loosely based on her.

Now, here is where the good thing about my reading the book at twenty-one instead of fourteen should come into picture. My teenager self would have vehemently protested and would have never understood. I don't claim to understand the reason entirely even now. But the only difference is that I can and I shall try. Both for the sake of perusing a swell piece of literature and because I daresay I need to make some discoveries about myself.

There are two ways of looking at it. Both diametrically opposite.

First: It is utterly selfish of the readers (including myself) to demand an alteration just for giving vent to their own unfulfilled romantic dreams. Deciding every character's fate is entirely the author's prerogative. And say if we leave that aside, isn't there something called platonic relationship? Even as I type this, I can imagine all the cynics of the world unitedly scoffing. Maybe I'm the wrong person to orchestrate this as I never really had a guy as a best friend. But with the experience of having many a close friends and confidants of the opposite sex, I can certainly answer in affirmative . Sometimes you're too good friends to be anything else. This, I vouch for. These things are so to-each-his-own types that a general conclusion is hard to reach, but if I speak for myself, I, even in my most coquettish days have never once flirted with a friend. I can't! And it's amazing how so many people can. Now, if some old friend is reading this and saying-"you hypocritical vixen, you so can!", all I can say is that I never flirt till I fancy, and if I fancy I don't put you in my friend's domain. So if I ever burst into peals of laughter at your codswallop that you called joke, it was probably because I didn't consider you my friend then and was merely flirting in good faith. Apologies.

The point I'm trying to make is that what Jo shared with Laurie had it's roots in the most uncorrupted days of their lives, when playing outdoors was the most important thing in the world. So, if they promenaded arm-in-arm and called each other 'my boy' and 'my girl', it was because the two buddies thought ( although Laurie did in a different way) that they owned each other, like a family.

So why my dear fellow readers of the book, do you take Jo to be stonehearted? I think it was immensely remarkable of her to not have acquiesced to her lovesick friend because she knew she could never love him the way he loved her, which would have been mighty unfair to him. Do you not think that it takes courage to look at a despondent face knowing that it is you who made that face look like that? And excruciating is the pain when it happens to be your pet face. May lord save us all from such agony.

Second: Then we can always see it in a different, though not so unexpected light. The stupendousness of the romantic tragedy. It isn't in the least surprising that by being denied a tangible union sincere love always achieves an eternal one.

Some wishes should remain unfulfilled for the feeling to linger around forever. For that 'idea' of the fulfilled state of wish to always stay alive. Sometimes it is million times better than its granted form. The history is strewn with such plentiful examples that I would make a poor display of my awareness if I attempt to cite a few. The yearning to yearn is passionately strong in us humans from the very incipient stage. Have you not seen how a child yearns for the very toy that is forbidden for her/him? It is psychological, I believe.You're halfway through making a sand castle and the surging tide sweeps it away, and you lament for you think it was to be the best sand castle ever made and nothing could have made you happier.Not pausing to think that it could've been the most hideous one ever made in the history of sand castles, but you wish to believe the opposite. And this cheers me up, as I sense optimism even as we pine away. It is our devout desire to make perfect endings but when we can't, be happier as it is ordained to have something better than a perfect ending. Everlasting existence. If you believe in this you probably can enlighten me more comprehensively and I'd be much obliged. If you don't, what are fan fictions for!

As I was chatting with my friends, while ambling down the road in the precious one hour break this afternoon, we all bitterly agreed on how time flies with miraculous speed. How we're very much into our twenties now and yet feel and behave every bit like carefree sixteen year olds.

But then there's also something I always secretly believed in, and which was wonderfully put into words by the Little women's mother or Marmee- "Children should remain children as long as they could".

I wish I could a little longer. It is ironical how while reading the pen picture of the tomboyish wild girl, a hazy face of a cheerful, messy girl just floated into my mind. Now, if you don't know how Divya Nair was you probably will never understand the irony, but never mind. While our novel's Jo never wanted to grow up, our precious Tayar was the one who made us grow up. I was a little scandalized at such a reflex action of my subconscious mind. Because no two girls have been more dissimilar. Why, she had no proclivity for literature or writing (or academics for that matter), was more ripen up than the whole lot of us, and flirted unabashedly. So totally un-Jo-ish. So, what made me think of her? Hmm..the curly hair could be one, outspoken audacity the other, always monkeying around could be a contributing factor and so could be her on-your-face ruthlessly honest comments. Now, wait! Am I disparaging her? Hell no! She was one of the sweetest persons I'd ever had the fortune to meet and also the vividest of all. The funkiest joker of the class who always kept us in high spirits. And whatever I wrote, I mean it in the most revering way imaginable. For who but she could perpetually rag the fellas, use their slangs on them, and keep us ever entertained. The guys scowled at her, as they always hypocritically do, at girls who can give them a dose of their own medicine. But she couldn't care less, and I loved her for that! She educated us about the facts of life much before and better than our biology textbook did, she taught us swear words so that we'd be able to recognize when somebody spoke them. She taught us that if you have a fervor for playing for the house sports cup or dance for the cultural award, don't let the uneasy days of the month deter you.And most of all she taught us how wonderful it is to laugh together even if it is at your own expense!Oh! what would we do without her. So, can you gauge my shock when I got to know that she was the first birdie to fly out of her nest? Maybe, you can. But you have no idea how near-fainting experience it was to see her coyly standing next to her hubby at their reception stage. Visibly docile, exuding feminine grace. Part astonishing, part revolting. Yes, revolting! Where was my partner in crime with whom I used to have capital times? One with wild mane, silly grin, mallu accent, reckless spirit and dollops of spunk.Who was this saree clad, eyelash-batting, children-loving, dutiful, domesticated belle? It was like watching my childhood dwindle away in front of my eyes. I started framing sentences in my head to say to her as I queued up for going to stage, for I thought I could hardly be able to stutter anything except congratulations to this intimidatingly stranger woman who was strangulating my girlhood. It was best, I thought to let Anu and Vandita to do the talking, I'll just smile, congratulate, give the gift, get snapped, grab a bite and get the hell out of there lest she formally thanks us for coming and requests us to 'please eat'. So as per my on-the-spot plan I smiled, gave the gift, muttered congrats and was ready to get discomfited by her formal smile and thanks, when she teasingly said- " Basu, tune bahot powder lagaya hain" :)

Atta girl! Saved my childhood memories. :)

I sometimes wish I had never reconnected with some of my old friends on social networking sites. Then I'd have forever cherished the sweet imprints that those lovable people left in my wistful eyes, but damn you facebook! You show me what has become of them, and now I don't adore them half as much as I did in some ancient time.

P.S: Phew! Unleashed. Finally. Feels so good :)

random flashes

apple juice
bhaaiyya,didun
aaltaa
mojdees
amul cheese cubes
lady bird
pyramid
chunnilal ramnarayan
thick black frames
cotton dhoti
chicken pakodas
jhaal mudi
republic day '96
phulkopi aaloo'r torkaari
mountains of chilli powder somewhere in maharashtra
bright smiley erasers
pair of earrings @ Rs 30, souveneir of fear, token of servility
banana trees, pine trees, fat jackfruits
steep, narrow, red mud road
paalika bazaar-new delhi
neelanjana-the newspaper
sand paper greeting cards
timeless tales-cartoon network
garlic pickle
'deserved' golden shoes
essel world
tea estates
time machine @ science city
secret mission,secret names, secret villains, secret lift, finger guns
ncert-stnadard 4-bal bharti-chapter 9-haathi
red ribbons, white ribbons, black ribbons
black and white printed frock
sleeper coach
swimming lessons
five star
the lost uncle
florida
ghargatta
1 kg= 1000 grams
samantha, tabitha, harriette, angela, kelly,phillips
allarippu, jatisvaram
fresh cow dung
plain copper colored saree
shantiniketan bags
nilanjan
rangan
sarojini naidu
a petrified bhaarat maataa
chinese rice
a cancelled tour
humaaraa sankalp
lice infested hair
green tiles
leisure
stolen scarf
smelly minal
"hum jeeeeeet gaye..tum haaaaaar gaye". "hum haaaaaar gaye...tum jeeeeeet gaye"
mere haathon mein nau nau chudiyaan hain
mim
ruffle lays
meemee, baapi
mars bars
caged parrot
bobby, mahesh
"hands fold, lips fold.."
kalupur fish market
billoo
kajol-the ten year old runaway maid
rakhi, rakesh
cigarettes
hand held shower
champak

I-day memories

I'll pick up from where I left in the previous post.

The program was good. it makes me very nostalgic. It reminds me of all those dances I was a part of in my school life, especially in the Independence and Republic days. I think the best of all was the one I did in 2nd standard-Aye Vatan, aye Vatan. It was my first dance performance of school life and easily the vividest of all others that followed every year since then.

There were some speeches that stirred us with patriotism and some that gave us a lot of time for idle talk :D
The flag was hoisted at 7:00 AM sharp, which meant that we were to be present latest by 6:30 AM. We had to wear our P.T(white) uniforms, and not the regular navy blue and white on that day. Prayer, pledge, a very inspirational thought, news and then the ceremony would begin. Flag-hoisting, rashtra gaan, a few more patriotic songs,house-wise parade, P.T, a few dance performances, speeches, history of freedom struggle, a few deshbhakti poems. And we sat on the dry ground under the scorching sun, playing with the sand and wishing desperately for the torture to get over. We groaned and sighed when the speech we thought was the closing speech turned out to be yet another intermediate speech. And then..the yellow pendaas :)
Such was a typical I-day at school, which I wished to believe then I would never miss. But that wish has not been fulfilled. I miss it.

Had just been watching those special programs on T.V where they take celebs to the border to meet the jawans. In one channel they took Abhishek Bachchan to the Tiger Hill, where the batttle of Kargil was fought and in other they took Sachin Tendulkar and Harbhajan Singh to meet the NSG commandos. I watched both the shows. Listened to the gut-wrenching tale that journalist Barkha Dutt told about a major who was the first one she ever interviewed and the also first one whose obituary she ever reported. The way some of the families of the martyrs had pulled themselves together, the way some still cried foul at the slightest mention of their names even a decade after they got slain.
Defence people- the personnel as well as their families are a different race altogether. A very very brave race.

In one channel they brought back a lot of messages to the border from the jawans' families and it was indeed an emotional moment. Even their family members seem to be made up of a different fibre. Fibre of sheer grit, valor exuding from every word that they spoke. And even after watching their families after months, even though tears wetted their eyes, when they spoke they were quite stable and firmly repeated that-"lekin desh zyaadaa zaroori hain". And one of them when asked-"Kya aapko yahaan border par apne parivaar ki yaad nahin aati?" answered with a smile-"Mujhe desh ki zyaadaa yaad aati hain".

Then in the other channel they showed some of the drills of the NSG commandos. And I have no words for expressing my awe. I'd read somewhere that the rejection rate in NSG is more than 95%. No wonder the ones who are there are so fit! Then some of them shared a few incidents from the very recent operation Black Tornado. The spirit of friendship that and responsibility that led one major to engulf the bullets that were meant for his subordinate. The way they forgot everything about food and water let alone their personal lives during the operation that went on for two days. I remember a clip where after receiving adulation from the crowds after successfully completing the operation one of the commandos remarked-"This is the real reason why we chose to become a commando".

I have utmost respect for defence people. I know everybody has. Everybody should actually. And the more I learn about their gallantry the more I hero-worship them. It's not just about the physical fitness. It's mostly about the fervor with which they serve the motherland. One would think that patriotic dialouges are delivered just in movies. But the truth is that even the actors in movies cannot emulate this super human passion and commitment. Imagine being away from your family for a major part of your life, putting the nation before your loved ones, living in a sub-zero climate with modest facilities, braving the bullets, doing every possible thing and sometimes even the seemingly impossible ones by jeopardizing your own life so that your countrymen can sleep peacefully. If this is not the epitome of selflessness and bravery then what is?

They had a very good reason to coin the phrase 'Jai Jawan'.

vague

Row, row, row the boat,
gently down the stream.
Merrily merrily merrily merrily,
life is but a dream.

Innocent kinter garden days. :)

But it amazes me! The depth of these few lines. Children recite this heavy or light (depending on our perception) piece of philosophy, in a singsong voice with a purity that can only emanate from an unsullied heart. And I have a feeling that they understand it better than the adults do. Some wise man had once said-"If you want to see life in the exact way it is, see it from a child's eye". I think all of us were much wiser and much better humans when we were young. But alas! Not anymore. Someone was kind (ahem) enough to remind me that at twenty-one, one ages enough to publicly enter the aunties' leauge (huh! :x). Ohh..no one has called me an aunty yet. I don't think I'm prepared to be called one, nor am I prepared to bid goodbye to the twentieth milestone of my life.

My throat is a lot better now. Throat infection gives me the scare of my life. Imagine not being able to talk! It's like a capital punishment for me. :o

Today as I and priyal sipped our coffees after finishing the paper work, it struck me that the tagline of the coffee shop is sufficiently justified. Indeed, a lot can happen over a cup of coffee.On sunday evening it was a typical g-talk with anu and chinky in the same place. Yesterday it was a leisure talk with harshit whom I met after a long time. And today it was a some vital and hopefully fruitful work.
Now that I come to think of it, I have a lot many good memories associated with these joints. A lot of casual hanging around, a lot of meet-ups, a lot of catching up, a lot of idle talks, a LOT of gossiping :P. I remember the first time I went to one of these outlets, it was with anu, on our way back home from school. As young girls in uniforms, we were heavily embarrassed to see a couple right across our table snogging unabashedly in the full view of public ( I, anu and the shop workers were the only public!). Of course it is OK, but there has to be a refined technique. Tearing each others' faces- how primitive are you? :o
And also that time: my most horrible day of the college till date. The whole thing was so nasty and I was so weobegone that I didn't even care to leave soon. Which is totally abnormal, as I look forward to leave the college area as soon as I'm allowed to. I'm the last person to suggest -"hey, it's just seven thirty let's stay for one more hour". But on that occasion I let the caffeine system along with my friends cheer me up.

As I was glancing through the tv channels yesterday, desperately trying to evade the ridiculous details of Rakhi-ne-Eelesh-ko-chuna-apna-var news, I came across a hindi music channel where they were playing all those nineties' hindi movie songs. Pehla nasha, Main koi aisa geet gaaoon, Dil hain chhota sa, Baaho ke darmiyaa, Aawaara bhanvare...most refreshing! It was then that I wondered where had these songs gone? Why don't I listen to them anymore? I should. I've grown up listening to these songs. Every generation is most attached to the songs that they hummed while they were young. At the age of ten, totally overwhelmed by kuch kuch hota hain, I used to daydream about my college life (a glorious period, thought I, when I'll be like one of those big girls) on the background music of koi mil gaya. Then, when I was in seventh, the entire country was obsessed with ek pal ka jeena from kaho na pyar hain. I was obsessed with na tum jaano na hum, from the very same. I used to sleep with that movie's cassette! In fact, Hrithik Roshan happens to be the only celeb/person whose poster I glued on a wall of my room :). Then there was a movie called 1942- a love story. And if I were to jot down a list of my top ten or fifteen, all of its songs would feature.
There's so much that has changed now. Anyone from the same era would remember a trend that was characteristic of that time. I don't know when it died out. Remember the music videos with songs that had a story to tell? I used to like piya basanti a lot, I still do. It had nauheed cyrusi playing a kashmiri girl and then there was a terrorist who falls in love with her..something like that. Colonial cousins, falguni pathak, sunita rao, alisha chinoy,shubha mudgal- these were people who used to cut an album every now and then. All with stories. Sometimes senseless, and sometimes very touching. What happened to this story-in-a-song culture? It was kinda nice.
Music actually is a very strong link to one's past. It can remind us as much as an old, battered diary can do. If I speak for myself, then as far as hindi music is concerned the nineties and a few early years of the new millennium would define my type of music. Of course some old and new ones are classic as well, but they don't make me nostalgic the way the songs from the former category do. :)

PS: This post is vague :)
PPS: yaaaaawn!

an era ends

Now before I start getting all nostalgic and maudlin, I should mention the rofl moment of the day. As I, Anu and Chinky were taking out the vehicles from the parking,ready to ride back home a guy came out of thin air,went to chinky with his arm extended, fancying a handshake. I thought he was someone she knew and apparently she thought so too because she'd almost hoisted her hand. But just then he spoke- "Hi,I'm Chirag. I want a frandship with you' :D:D" Chinks was stunned beyond measure. Anu and I were trying very hard not to laugh out loud. After all the snubbing was done,we rode away giggling. God! That was something customary of cyberspace, not real life! :D

So,anyway..the hiatus is finally over! The trauma of vivas still remain but at least I'm done with the major cause of nail bitings. So,one might think that I'd be the happiest and most relaxed soul right now. The deduction,going by the premise is not incorrect-except that I'm not.

It's one of those low phases of life when you know things that are happening are nothing wrong.They're good,they're making everybody else happy,they mark the beginning of something new-maybe not for you but definitely for other people.Still you cannot control your ire,you are frustrated,you want to slow the time down,you want to do so many things you should have,say so many things you could have but most importantly you want to make things as they were a while ago. But you can't. You're not god. You can't undo things,you can't go back in time,you can't prevent the significant changes from surfacing in your life,you can't hold people back,you can't do anything about the fact that chinky is shifting outta vikki...

The first time I met Meenakshi (chal maan li teri baat kamini), it was way back in the year 2004, during the month of march. March end I think,because we were done with our boards and had all the time in the world to kill(oh,what an amazing year tenth class was). It was me,her and uttara and we got chatting about a guy we all knew. What of course we didn't know at that time was that this absolutely irrelevant person was doing us a favor of a lifetime- he was making us friends for life! In any case we got along pretty well,and then began frequenting each others' houses. We wondered how come we didn't know each other for so long! I shifted here during eighth. Chinks was here all along. And so the saga began. On every evening it was mandatory to go on long walks. Me,Chinky and Uttara( Anu,for some reason never joined us) used to spend those few hours blithely discussing funny stuff, merrily discussing the teachers and their eccentricities and stupidly discussing 'him'. God!! Why? What did we see in him anyway? He definitely was not worth the profuse attention that we showered on him. But I'm not complaining since it brought us closer :) At that time,I must admit,I was closer to uttara than chinky. Which is why I was far from being shattered when her family went to Canada for a year. Of course I felt bad, but it was definitely not an overwhelming feeling. There was no orkut,or facebook at that time. We never e-mailed or called. Honestly,we never felt like doing it. I was completely out of touch with her for a year or so. And then one fine day she came back and the timing couldn't have been better because I was in my first year of college and hated it-every bit of it.
From then till now-more than three full years. It has been a roller coaster ride.Like something out of the world from somebody else's life. I wish I could describe every moment of it,but no human language,no semantics can actually do justice to it. Besides I'm bad at casing emotions in words. Let me just say that,every time I think of those days,the things we said,did,didn't do (honestly I don't even remember a major part of it) something in the chest region lifts, something from somewhere exudes positive vibes, my eyes twinkle,I never fail to smile,I feel good,without knowing why the hell.
Of course I don't tell her these things...chadh jaaegi :D

But what can I say when she's actually happy about it(" I'm sick of a stagnant life.I want a change"). It all started with Uttara going away to Chennai,Palla to Hyderabad and then Anu will probably go out of a'bad for her pg. And I wish she really does. She so badly wants to. Chinky will be in a'bad only of course but no matter how much she says it's no big a deal and things will not change-I know they will. Distance is a bitch-I have affirmed and reaffirmed this time and again. This is nothing new to me. It has been happening since I was in school. Of all the people whose parents could have gotten transferred,only theirs did whom I was most attached to.One by one all my best friends went away.I used to think I was cursed but my mother told me-"look at it this way,for every best friend that leaves another arrives,and how many people can boast of having so many good friends,huh?" True,I used to think-For every Alakananda who went away Suchismita and Vandita arrived,when they went away Aditi came,and when she went away Chinky came-of course she wasn't a classmate( which I think was better that way).Anu was there all along ( fifteen years dammit!). It used to stop my tears but still I didn't want new people-I wanted them! They all said while going that they'd stay in touch,which they did too. But somewhere in the path,you lose touch.It's nobody's fault actually. Distance makes people fall apart. It's a universal fact-deal with it. Out of sight,out of mind-harsh,isn't it? But true to the core. The sooner we accept it,the better. I know it's bad. Falling apart is actually worse than falling out with each other.It might be bitter,but at least there's a defined ending. Abrupt endings,vague endings are the worst.
I would someday really like to question the bearer of the universe (if I could) about the dynamics of it,about the way universe functions. It's so unfair that people can just hop in and out of your life.It's so unfair that sometimes everything is perfect but the timing isn't. It's so unfair that you can neither do anything about it,nor live peacefully with it. It's all so unfair.

Anyway,back to reality. I hope Chinky finds her new abode better than this one. I hope Anu gets through her entrances and goes where she wants to. I hope that this year accelerates with supersonic speed. I hope by this time next year life gets much more certain and structured.I hope to get out of a'bad..oh no,there's probably no other city that I'd ever be able to love the way I love amdavad but you know what..now I need a change too. Chinky and my tagline- In hope we live!
As of now,there won't be any 11:00 PM messages saying- 'kamini,walk par chale?' ,' I'm at your parking;do baar nsp ho gai :D', 'utar bey',there won't be any dogs that she would chase for us,there won't be any peacocks we would gape at,there won't be any O.A whose enviable svelte would provide more atmospehere to the fumes of jealously,there won't be any 15 minute walk follwed by a 45 min lazying around in the garden,there won't be a lot of old things-But hopefully a host of new ones :)
Whatever be the case,this is big,this is huge.Chinky's moving out,Anu would be going out after a month or two and I'm on my countdown year....indeed, an era ends.

those were the days

Today was great.I was very flustered at the beginning of the day due to...some reason.But I feel sooo gooooood now :).I talked to Uttara for almost an hour this evening and to Debanshu for another hour just now.Two hours of school talks,which implies two hours full of undiluted laughter!! :) I am in such a jovial mood now..tra la la la :):):)
God! every time I talk to school people,I can't wipe that grin off my face for at least a day :)Debanshu was a classmate for twelve years.Most of us in the class had sticked around since first class.We've all actually grown up together,so it goes without saying what an amazing comfort zone all of us have.We still chatter like school kids at our reunions..about how Nair mam fell off her chair (:D),how Vishakha's dad came to school to register a complaint against Jagdale mam,how apurva had asked ruba if she was a boy or a girl(wtf! :D),about that infamous Verma mam's incident in 9th,about how everybody was paired up and subsequently how Mita mam said-"your class, it seems is very romantic"(:P),how our stupid the music classes used to be,how we used to sulk at the prospect of mass pt,how Gautam sir used to crack his poor jokes and the boys pretended to laugh their guts off,how we used to be sorted in four houses,how we used to practice like mad for those cca activities..ok i gotta stop.If I keep typing about my class,I'll probably take up all the cyber space! I loved my class,class people.I know everybody does, but then I'm sorry to declare that no class could have possibly been as amazing as ours was.We were the best class in this whole wide world :).I am so thankful to god that I was destined to meet these people.Such vivid memories! School life rocked big time-I get so elated reminiscing those moments that I don't even feel bad that college life sucks by the same magnitude.But I am not going to talk about college or college people when I'm in such a good mood. Uttara was not a classmate.She was a senior at school.But because we lived in the same colony and also because we used to share an amazing rapport with our seniors I address her and all of her class people with the hindi pronoun tu ( which my friends would say is a very big deal-coming from me, as I am an extremely pro-formal person).Nobody...nobody can crack PJs like Uttara does god..oh..god :D. Me,Uttara and Palla had actually contemplated to lanch a PJ magazine back in those days.It was so much fun,sharing silly jokes,making up sillier jokes.I remember those b'day parties where she was asked to entertain people with her jokes and I was invariably asked to mimic all the teachers..and I used to graciously oblige :P. The way I,uttara and chinky used to go for our regular rounds of walk,the way we used to share the minutest of details(we still do-only now on phone),the way all three of us had a crush on the same guy(yes yes I finally admit,I did like him for some goddamn reason :D),the way we had come up with code names(hahahahaha!!)-It was all so tremendously magical. Where are those days gone? Lost perhaps..in the bend of life.Growing up is painful.Teenage was beautiful.School days were...the english vocabulary is failing me.Let's just say,it would be my dying wish to relive those days again..:)

ps: Two posts in a single day.man,I'm addicted to blogging! :D