Of 'Aam Ke Ped' and cockroaches

Before I begin on the subject(s) I intend to write on during this blog post, I would like to make a very special announcement. Anyone who thinks Aishwarya Rai is not looking nice in the Bunty Aur Babli item number can, for all I care, go to hell. I have, after a lot of hard work, managed to convince myself that the movie was worth the time and money I spent on it solely because of Aishwarya Rai and her item number. It has taken a lot of hard work, and what I do not want is some stupid ass coming along and ruining all that hard work by saying that he/she thought Ms. Rai was actually looking fat and ugly in the song. Therefore, this moment onwards, I expressly forbid such opinions on my blog.

With that out of the way, let me move on to the 'Aam Ka Ped' (Mango Tree) I wish to talk about. There are lots of 'Aam Ke Ped' (Mango Trees) in AIIMS Campus, but the 'Aam Ka Ped' I shall talk about is the one situated right outside my house. The branches of this particular 'Aam Ka Ped' extend right up to my bedroom window, and have caused me a lot of trouble in the preceding few weeks. As most of you would probably know, the mango-season, at least in most of North India, is in full swing, as a result of which, the 'Aam Ka Ped' in question is almost always heavily laden with mangoes. These mangoes, though real mangoes, are not like traditional, sweet, the-ones-you-have-at-home mangoes. They're green and small, and are not usually eaten as they are. They are usually processed and are ingested only in the form of eatables like achaars, chutneys, and pana (a thick, sweet, mangoey liquid which is supposed to make one immune to hot winds). Another special thing about these green and small aams is that they fall down a lot from their trees. All it takes is a slight breeze for most of a tree's small, green mangoes to reach the brown, hard ground underneath the tree. Even when there is no breeze, aams keep falling down from their trees at regular intervals, and, as I recently found out, in times of extreme boredom, counting them as they fall is a good way to pass some time.

Another important characteristic of an 'Aam Ka Ped' is its natural ability to attract crowds. An 'Aam Ka Ped' is not truly an 'Aam Ka Ped' until it has about two score people solemnly assembled in its cool shade. I believe the phenomenon has its origin in ancient practices. A long time ago, when India was nothing but a large cluster of spacious villages; when two men wanted to meet, one of them would almost invariably say cordially to the other, "Woh Balli ke ghar ke pichhwade mein jo aam ka ped hain, uske neeche mil jaayenge." (We shall meet 'neath the mango tree behind Balli's house), Balli, in this case, undoubtedly being a third party known to both men, but otherwise quite unconcerned with this conversation. The other man, not one to cross his fellow villager without good reason, and not seeing anything objectionable with meeting under the mango tree behind Balli's house would, somewhat less eloquently, but equally cordially, reply "Achha.", the motive behind meeting under an 'Aam Ka Ped' probably being the fact that meeting under anything smaller, like a 'Kele Ka Ped', would be extremely taxing on the back due to the continuous stooping required, besides being extremely undignified, akin to meeting behind a bush, and meeting under anything bigger, like a 'Bargad Ka Ped', would be unsafe because of all the bhoots and dissatisfied aatmas lurking in such trees, and superstition being widely spread in backward villages of olden days.

The exact reason for men being found in close proximity to an 'Aam Ka Ped', whether it be an uncontrollable urge written into the very genetic code of us Indians due to years of continuous socializing under one, or simply a matter of greed for aams that accidentally fall down from the ped, will probably never be known accurately to me. What I do know accurately is the fact that every day, about three dozen people hold a get together of sorts under the mango tree near my house. I am woken up in the morning by whoops of joy from children who are under the tree at about 4:30 AM, looking for aams that have fallen down overnight. Then, during the course of the entire day, I am forced to hear opinions of all kinds of people on all kinds of subjects through my window. The crowd dwindles only at about 9:00 in the evening, and that too provided there is electricity in the campus, which, more often than not, is not the case. Some people go as far as to climb the tree (Halfway up, roughly at my window level, they realize their progress is being keenly followed by me. They then look sheepishly at me through the window, and having done so for an adequately long time, proceed to continue climbing shamelessly up the tree), although in the recent past, fewer people have been climbing trees, no doubt due to the incident involving one of the AIIMS postmen who climbed a mango tree in search of mangoes, fell down, and promptly died. Now, most of the climbing is done by the monkeys, and since AIIMS Campus happens to be amply endowed when it comes to monkeys, there is, even now, more climbing than there ought to be (the poor postman, God bless his soul, seems to have died in vain), and I am still woken up at 4:30 in the morning, for monkeys are much like children who like aams and climbing on trees.

Besides 'Aam Ke Ped' and monkeys, cockroaches, rats, mosquitoes, and other not-very-pleasant species are also found in abundance at AIIMS Campus. Presently, there are two cockroaches that are residing at my house. While most cockroaches, as is expected of their kind, stay at a given address for only a very limited time, ranging from a few minutes to a few days, these two cockroaches have been living at my place for a decidedly longer time now. I have a feeling that they are more than enjoying their stay here, and therefore do not seem in a great hurry to leave. One of the cockroaches is bigger than the other, and I call it 'Bada Cockroach'. The other one, which is smaller, has been named 'Chhota Cockroach'. Bada Cockroach lives in the bathroom and Chhota Cockroach lives in the small passageway just outside my room. I am not very fond of them, but I have, over a period of about a month, learnt to peacefully co-exist with them. We may not still be what is described as a happy and satisfied familial unit, but we get by.

In other news, I continue to be ecstatically happy about nothing. There are, I think, essentially, two types of people. The first category is made up of people who, when they are happy, express their happiness by singing loudly, laughing, and jumping up and down. The second category is mad up of people who, when happy, go about being nice to dogs. I belong to the first category, as a result of which my parents continue to think I am on drugs.

Also, it's getting terribly hot and humid in Delhi. Life without an air-conditioner has become difficult, and venturing out of the house during the day has become almost impossible. I am, therefore spending much time indoors. I have been reading a lot. And I have been listening to a lot of music. These days, music plays in my room round the clock. I sleep with music on. I wake up with music on. I read with music on. I eat with music on, and I do pretty much everything else in between with music on. Therefore, in addition to thinking I am on drugs, my parents also think I will go totally deaf before the end of these holidays.

In addition to books and music, I have also been spending a lot of time watching home videos. There are lots of them lying around the house, and a lot of them have a much younger me in them. On watching them, I have come to the conclusion that I was quite an awesome guy when I was about two. But then at about four, I started getting weird and creepy, and by the time I was nine, I
1) Looked mentally ill.
2) Had the weirdest hair.
3) Wore purple pants.
4) Was terribly fat.

I think I was pretty much at my worst in life when I was nine. After that, I started recovering a bit, although most people who know me since then would say that I never really recovered much. Nevertheless, I feel I am definitely better now than I was at nine. And at the current rate of improvement, I think I should be almost as cool as I was at two by the time I am about seventy. I just hope I am around till then.

I have returned

After a very very long break from blogging, I have returned. And I come fully loaded. With three movie reviews and lots of juicy tid-bits to follow. So, without much further ado, allow me to get to the reviews. In alphabetical order then.

Bunty Aur Babli, which I watched today, was a decent watch. I did not love it, as I had expected to, but it was a fun watch nevertheless. The beginning is wonderfully done, and the plot is pretty decent. But the later part of the movie is a bit disappointing, and the last half hour left me a bit stunned. Stunned at how they could mess up such a brilliant beginning, and at how miserably the movie fails at living up to the promise created by its unusual plot. The movie was, till then, impressive in parts, with the highlight of the movie, without doubt, being the item number by Aishwariya Rai. I thought Ms. Rai was looking breathtakingly beautiful. I do not usually like Aishwariya, but this song was something else. It made me almost forgive her for all that giggling and fake accent putting-on during Letterman and Oprah. The movie does have its moments, and most of the attempts at humour are pretty credible. Rani Mukerjee is looking very hot at times, and not so hot at other times. Amitabh Bachchan, as always, has done a bloody good job. In retrospect, I have a feeling that if it wasn't for the last 30-40 minutes, the movie would have been a delightful one. But as things stand, it isn't.

Mr. And Mrs. Smith was, to put it bluntly, terrible. Once again, the plot held great promise, but at no point in the movie did I feel that justice hasd been done to it. The movie doesn't even come close to being a good watch. Agreed, the dialogues are crisp and witty, and Angelina Jolie has never looked hotter. But even Angelina Jolie, aided a bit by witty dialogues, can't hold together a movie that has no story, with no clear beginning, no clear middle, and no clear end. Not taking Angelina Jolie into account, the movie was a big waste of time and money. It was a miracle that I survived it. I guess the only thing that saved me was my realizing, at a very early stage in the movie, that the only way to enjoy it was to keep staring intently at Ms. Jolie. It might be that I am being unduly unfair to the movie because I sat in the first row of the hall to watch it, but the only other time I have felt as disappointed with a Hollywood flick was when I watched The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Both the movies were very similar in how they made me feel once they were over. After watching both, I was left with nothing but a rather odd sensation of having been slapped in the face with a wet fish.

Parineeta, the third movie I watched this week, was simply brilliant. It was, easily, the best of the three. While Bunty Aur Babli, at least in the first half, looked like beating it to the first position, it lost out in, as I said, the last half hour. Mr. And Mrs. Smith didn't even come close.
The reason I liked Parineeta was that out of the three movies I saw this last week, it was the only one that actually made full use of a superior and unusual plot. Maybe it was because Mr. Sarat Chandra Chatterjee had already done all the hard work, and the movie makers didn't have to do much. Whatever the reason, the result is an extremely well made movie, with well-delineated characters and a well-paced, convincing screenplay. The direction is praiseworthy. All actors have performed very well. It is difficult to believe that this is Vidya Balan's debut movie, for her acting is of a caliber not usually associated with newcomers. Something tells me that she shall do well in the future. She is reasonably good looking and, as she proves with this movie, a very good actor. Saif Ali Khan, as in many of his last few movies, has come up with an impressive performance. Sanjay Dutt has made the most of his rather limited role. The peripheral actors have also delivered satisfactory performances. My only complaint with the movie is its weakness in the music department. Also, Rekha is too fat to do an item number. But then, one can't have everything.

This post has now become long. And it has become late. I have to go and sleep, for I am extremely tired. The juicy tid-bits, therefore, shall have to wait. But I promise I shall return soon. And then I shall write a long and nice post full of them. Till then, let the comments keep coming in.

It's been a while

Quite a while actually. I'm writing a post (here, by writing, I mean writing something original, on my own, unaided) after almost 2 entire weeks. The two interim posts that appeared on this blog were, although very meaningful and significant entries, not very well received by people other than myself, as I gather from the comments, and more importantly, the hits-counter. It seems that people want me to stick to original prose, and to rescue this blog from a premature death, I think that is precisely what I shall have to do.

There has not been much to write about in the recent past. When I think about the preceding two weeks, the first thing that comes to mind is that I have been unbelievably happy. I have been in a constant state of almost ecstatic euphoria. I have been incredibly excitable, overtly enthusiastic, and pretty much bordering on insane. I have been running and jumping around the house, singing (if one could call it that) as loudly as possible, and have generally been acting excessively buoyant. If you would ask me why I have been so happy, I would tell you that I have not the faintest idea. But elated I have been, and not just normal elated, but abnormal elated. My sister now refuses to talk to me, for she says I have lost my ability to make normal conversation and give straight answers, and though my parents have not actually told me this explicitly, I have a very strong suspicion that they think I am on drugs.

While we are on the subject of parents, I must point out that mine aren't very happy with me. Besides thinking that I am doing drugs, they also seem to not like me being out of the house the entire day, and being in front of the computer the entire night. And that's not all. They also want me to sleep. You'd think that with me just having finished a hectic IIT semester, they'd be a bit more understanding.

Besides that, not a lot has happened since I last wrote. As you have probably gathered from the last paragraph, I have been spending a major part all of my days out of the house. I have been working a bit for Rendezvous-2005, which means that I have to go to IIT once every 5-6 days. I have been meeting up with a lot of friends, many of them after a very long time; as quite a few of them, from school as well as from the Campus (AIIMS Campus, that is) have returned to Delhi after a considerable amount of time. I also saw a few of my IIT friends a few days ago. In short, I am seeing a lot of friends. I am also seeing a lot of movies.

I bought a new desktop computer on the 31st of May, which was, incidentally, also my sister's birthday. Since my old desktop had become very old, and I did not like gaming much on my mother's laptop, which has a small screen and an iffy mouse, I decided to buy a new one. The new desktop has resulted in me taking back to gaming with a vengeance. Presently, all my nights are being spent alternating between Max Payne and Warcraft III, with only a little bit of Spiderman II (The Game) in the middle to break the monotony. According to a recent estimate, I have slept only 53 hours since I bought my new computer. But I see no reason why I should be complaining.

Before I conclude this post, I would like to write a bit about Max Payne. Don't play it. It's frighteningly addictive, and it has great potential as far as turning your life upside down is concerned. I started playing it about two days back, and it has seriously fucked up my mind. I haven't slept a wink since I started playing it, and I have a very strong feeling that my nights will continue to be sleepless stretches of time spent in front of the computer as long as I do not finish the game.

That'll be all for tonight. Hopefully the hits-counter will be a tad better when I look through it tomorrow. Till next time, I would implore all of you to take care.

May you never meet your personal apocalypse.

If I could

This might make my blog look a lot like an online lyrics listing site, but I really don't feel much like writing these days. If your blogging name is Aidoneus, read the next paragraph. If it isn't, you may skip to the lyrics.

The following lyrics have been taken from the song 'Be Like That', by a band named '3 Doors Down'. They are not, in any way, wholly or partially, my creation. Call that a disclaimer, or call it whatever else you want to.

Be Like That

He spent his whole life being too young,
To live the life that's in his dreams,
At night he lies awake and he wonders,
Why can’t that be me?
'Cause in his life he is filled
With all these good intentions.
He’s left a lot of things
He’d rather not mention right not.
But just before he says goodnight,
He looks up with a little smile at me,
And he says,

If I could be like that,
I would give anything,
Just to live one day, in those shoes.
If I could be like that,
What would I do,
What would I do?

Now and dreams, we run.
She spends her days up in the north park,
Watching the people as they pass.
And all she wants is just
A little piece of this dream,
Is that too much to ask?
With a safe home, and a warm bed,
On a quiet little street.
All she wants is just that something to
Hold onto, that’s all she needs.
Yeah!

If I could be like that,
I would give anything,
Just to live one day, in those shoes.
If I could be like that, what would I do,
Lord, what would I do?

I’m falling into this, dreams,
We run away.

If I could be like that,
I would give anything,
Just to live one day, in those shoes.
If I could be like that, what would I do,
What would I do?

If I could be like that,
I would give anything,
Just to live one day, in those shoes.
If I could be like that, what would I do,
Lord, what would I do?

If I could be like that,
I would give anything,
Just to live one day, in those shoes.

If I could be like that, what would I do,
What would I do?
Falling in,
I feel I am falling in, to this again.

Before you make up your mind about not coming to this blog now onwards, I would like to assure you that the next post will be a proper one, written wholly by myself. It will be in prose. And it will come within the next couple of days or so. I promise.

Good Night.

Wait For Sleep

Standing by the window,
Eyes upon the moon.
Hoping that the memory will leave her spirit soon.
She shuts the doors and lights.
And lays her body on the bed.
Where images and words are running deep.
She has too much pride to pull the sheets above her head.
So quietly she lays and waits for sleep.

She stares at the ceiling.
And tries not to think.
And pictures the chain.
She's been trying to link again.
But the feeling is gone

And water can't cover her memory,
And ashes can't answer her pain.
God give me the power to take breath from a breeze,
And call life from a cold metal frame.

In with the ashes,
Or up with the smoke from the fire.
With wings up in heaven,
Or here, lying in bed.
Palm of her hand to my head.
Now and forever curled in my heart.
And the heart of the world.