I’m on a strict schedule these days. Hit the bed as early as 10 in the night and wake up at 5 in the morning. I start working at 5 and by 8 I am either done with most of my work or a little is left for the rest of the day… I make coffee and breakfast and consume it while reading the newspaper. Then, I do some browsing for a while (not more than one hour) and force myself back to reading/writing. At 12, I stop all that and concentrate on making lunch; salad and juice… yes, that’s what I eat these days for lunch or some nice Chicken and Rice. Then I sleep for a while (2 hrs.) and wake up to make a strong tea. From there I work for 3 Hrs. and at 7 starts making dinner. Now, the deal with dinner is that I can either cook it or go out to a fine restaurant to have it. Sometimes I call for company. Sometimes I don’t. Most of the time there’s nothing more exquisite than the company of my own self and I plug-in the earphone, start my bat-bike and ride out to have something. And, dinner has to be something tough. Something great and satisfying to provide me a good sleep for 7 Hrs…

Yesterday, I made a slight change in the schedule. The day began as a cloudy one and I thought I should go out to buy some books. I was running out of books and I wanted to go out after spending so many days indoors. I was beginning to feel like Charlton Heston in The Ωmega Man, where he plays the last man on earth alive who is destined to fight a group of nocturnal mutant humans.  Actually, the world outside is no better than what the film shows! The building I live is filled with Zombies.
“……they roam the roads at night. During the day-time, they run up and down stairs and howl and bite at each other. I know, it is foolish to expect civilized behaviour from Zombies but this what they do. Sadly, I’m running out of bullets and I have to pay a visit to the military armory in the city for a refill….that itself is an adventure. There are soldier zombies there; zombies that are well versed in Combat!” (Excerpts from the Zombie Diaries I am writing…)

So, I went out for a long ride and bought some books. Two of them were Coffee Table Books; one on Ancient Trade Routes and the other was titled ‘Modern Paintings and Sculpture from the Collection of the late Edgar J. Kaufmann, Jr.’ I have started reading the first one yesterday night itself. It has a lot of amazing photographs and maps… Maps! Did I tell you I love maps? I love looking at them… finding out routes and mountain passes and borders and strategic points. There was a time I had a huge collection of maps and my favorite time-pass was to spread them on my worktable and closely analyze them. They were all maps of Europe and Asia in the Middle Ages. My father used to think I was going crazy. My mother asked me if I want to become a Cartographer. Well, we live in an age were Maps are made by satellites.

Modern Paintings and Sculpture from the Collection of the late Edgar J. Kaufmann, Jr.

Some of the other books that I bought.

A Chinese beauty engaged in a Tea Ceremony at the China Tea Museaum in Hangzhou

The Map of the Tea Route

These books are what I read now when I’m not killing Zombies at night. They interrupted my sleep yesterday, when a group of them ran up and down the stairs, howling at each other. I didn’t get a clear shot. These days, they use some sort of a clear communication method. I don’t understand that. They also started planting Milk Bombs outside my door. It is some sort of a Zombie tactics where they use old Milk packets (the milk will have gone bad and the packet will be like a balloon, whirring all by itself, as if a slight wind could make it explode) to ambush me. I escaped from one yesterday.

- Manu

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Bollywood aka Hindi film industry is generally viewed as India’s mainstream film production industry yet surprisingly it churns out the ugliest endeavors in that format. I have been a critique of Bollywood all my life as a film-goer because of their trademark beating-around-the-bush and singing-around-the-tree formula. It happens in the other regional language films too but with its money flow and pulling the right strings politics, Bollywood has always managed to subdue better films from other regional languages in India. Marathi, Oriya, Bengali, Tamil and Malayalam industries house such brilliant actors, technicians and story tellers, one could feel totally flabbergasted if venture out enough into their world of storytelling. But, at times, Bollywood too deliver good films… not from the Khans, Kumars or the Khannas and neither from the Bachchans or Kapoors! Yesterday, I happened to watch a small film called Jolly LLB! Let me talk about it.

It is a courtroom comedy film that revolves around two lawyers involved in a case of hit and run. Arshad Warsi plays Jagdish Tyagi aka Jolly, a struggling lawyer who moves from a local court in U.P to Delhi in search of better prospects. On the opposite, we have Boman Irani as Tejinder Rajpal, a suave, rich, English-speaking and sophisticated lawyer who has never tasted failure in his life.

Boman Irani as Tejinder Rajpal

In order to become noticed easily, Jolly files a PIL (Public Interest Litigation) against the hit and run case, which was successfully won by Rajpal. The court opens the case again, taking in to account fresh witnesses and evidences. The film depicts the battle that both lawyers have to fight against each other as well as themselves.

It is the presentation that makes the film different. Two completely opposite characters coming into conflict with each other. One fights for justice and the other trying to seal the face of truth. Arshad Warsi, is as usual, easy with his character; depicting it casually as well as with envying comfort. We are used to Boman Irani’s portrayal of such characters and this is another shade of what we have seen before in Three Idiots and Munnabhai MBBS. One who steals the show with his complex enactment is Saurabh Shukla. 

Saurubh Shukla as Justice Tripathi

His performance as Judge Tripathi is amazingly convincing, capable enough to eclipse the performance given by the lead actors themselves. In fact, in the whole movie, this is one performance that one should watch out for, in my opinion.

Amrita Rao’s role is a two-song-after-that-what’s- there one which could have been given to anyone in the industry and nothing remarkable would have happened anyway!

Jolly LLB is a fine comedy with elements of social satire prominent. In its seemingly easy weaving of the story and remarkable screenplay, however, one thing stand out for the viewer to understand; that Justice is something that is to be fought for… if not given! It stands as a critique of the system, like a fine political cartoon that would get us to thinking and pricks the right people at the right places!

Hats off to the director Subhash Kapoor…

Watch it for a fine weekend experience.

My verdict: 3.5/5

- Manu

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Rahul’s post made me want to watch the recent Malayalam film Mumbai Police. I have been carefully avoiding big starrers for a while, only watching films that came to me through suggestions from friends and all. Also, Malayalam films rarely get released in Hyderabad. And, if they do, they come on the weekends in Prasad’s screens, making it a 30 km ride for me.

Mumbai Police is a thriller. That is the minimum of a generic description anyone can make. It is the presentation of the story and the brave attitude that wins the accolades for this film. The age old principle that a good script is a film half-made is worth mentioning here because the screenplay by Bobby and Sanjay is one crucial element that helps the film from slipping off into the usual plains of boredom and lagging. The story revolves around three cops; Anthony Moses (Prithviraj), Farhan Ashraf (Rahman) and Aaryan John Jacob (Jayasuriya). Together they are nicknamed by the media as ‘Mumbai Police’ due to their short stint in the Q division of Maharashtra Police before joining Kerala cadre. During a ceremonial function Aaryan John Jacob gets shot resulting in his death and the burden of investigation falls on to Anthony Moses. The rest is a fast-paced thriller that gets the viewer through sudden and shocking revelations from the lives of the three officers.

Hats off to Director Rosshan Andrrews for his guts to do a story with overt homosexual overtones and as an actor Prithviraj has done a brave thing by doing such a role in a film industry that is deeply orthodox and unadventurous when it comes to new themes. Despite the general homophobia of the public, the film seems to be receiving good reviews. Hoots and whistles rose up from the homophobes in the hall during the climax and one need not say that we have a lot more to go before we achieve certain kind of tolerance level.

The background score deserves a special mention because this is probably one of the few movies that had a BGM that lingered in my mind even after leaving the hall.

Besides Prithviraj, Rahman and Jayasuriya, Kunchan is the only actor that deserved any special mention. Aparna Nair had not grown out of her usual eye-candy roles that stereotypes women of a certain social stature. The debutant Rohit seemed a little comical in his role as a cop assisting with the investigation, who has to muscle up whenever the camera faces him. His salutes were a source of laughter and his face resembled that of someone trying hard not to cry out in pain due to some unseen wound.

Guys, it is a film worth watching for. Thanks Rahul, for suggesting this.

My verdict: 3.5/5
Watch it for a change.

- Manu

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2006
August

K came to my room. It had only been two days since we met. It was a new place for the both of us. I was lost in thoughts, lying down on my bed, pretending to read something that no longer held my attention. K stood at the door and, momentarily forgetting the uneasiness of addressing someone he did not know, asked me, “Do you drink?”

I looked up. I kept my book down. I stood up focusing my eyes on him. Rage started building inside me. He shrugged and started, “Hey, it’s okay if…”

“I do.” I said in a breath. That night we drank like a bunch of pirates who got their largest loot followed by bloodshed. Now that I am looking back, I think we should have hung the third pirate who was with us that day… could have avoided a lot of things in that way!

I have introduced K through some of my posts. We have been friends through a lot of things. We have turned enemies too. But, as always we get back together because we have a couple of nice and sweet common friends. We have fought each other (literally), fought together watching each other’s back (literally) and rode together… all things that made a blood-bond between warriors in ancient fables. I bought my new beer mugs only for the both of us to sit and drink in this summer.

They are not the conventional type of beer mugs. They look like what they used in the Lord of the Rings: Two Towers or even the old film The Vikings, starring Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis. I bought it from Shilparamam, the arts and craft village in Hyderabad, paying just Rs. 150.

Summer is getting worse folks, and the three things you need badly to survive in Hyderabad now are a good pair of Ray Ban, a refrigerator filled with cold drinks (of your choice) and ice cubes and a cooler/air conditioner. 

- Manu

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After the DC, I wanted to read and get lost somewhere for a couple of days. Last Sunday’s The Hindu Magazine had given in its box list of new publications a name that caught my attention; Taking the Taj by Shivjeet Kullar. I have heard that name somewhere vaguely. I googled the guy and the got some interesting details. He writes a column in the Times of India and I thought at least the book would be readable. So, I gave an order for Taking the Taj.

Taking the Taj by Shivjeet Kullar

The books cover says, “At last a genuine Indian thriller writer”. I do not agree. I should say that I finished the book faster than my normal time for any book of this genre. Seriously, it is about time for Indian English writers to concentrate on something else other than Pakistan and terrorism. It would be convenient to spend time in a bookstore where you are not surrounded by books written about gun trotting Jehadis and a Bin Laden figure. There is nothing thrilling in this book as the title claims. Seven terrorists take over the control of the Taj Mahal in a surprise move and take hostage some billionaires from all over the world. They demand the release of world’s no: 2 terrorist (who is in an Indian jail awaiting death penalty). They threaten to demolish the Taj and kill the hostages if the demands are not met. A shrewd National Security Advisor brings back a war veteran and disabled Wing Commander to oversee the negotiation… the terrorists and their internal stories… an Indian historian, taken hostage along with the tourists try to break a code about the Taj… flashbacks back into Shah Jahan’s time revealing the real truth behind the legend of the Taj… a Prime Minister who has to deal with rising religious tensions in the country as a result of the hostage situation… and all of these in an unbelievable 365 pages with big lettered printing. More than a book, it felt like an abstract for writing a screenplay for a possible motion picture attempt in the future.

Shivjeet Kullar

There are a multitude of characters. There are certain areas that the author has been able to write well in sharp contrast to areas that will confuse a seasoned reader of thrillers. One thing that stands out is that none of the characters have been given enough page space and that leads to a major void between the characters and the reader. The plot is a bit loose with so many things happening at the same time and not enough space give for anything to increase the effect. The result is a bland reading of incidents that fails to surprise you. It is one thriller that you can read without giving much attention. If you’re reading it in this summer with the mercury rising to the top, read it with a relaxed mind or with some beer. You’re gonna miss nothing.

My verdict: 2/5

- Manu

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Mom is planning to adore the walls of our first floor with my precious photographs. I’ve sent her a few of them and she has picked these ones… I thought I might share’em with all of you.

These photographs are the ones I shot while taking a stroll with my mother in her newly designed garden. She and Dad re-designed the garden recently and during my last visit home, I was helping her with the transferring of some flower pots. She would say things like, “Look at your hands! They look pampered…. So, help me with these pots!” And I would counter that by saying, “I work in a University not at some construction site!”

I asked her to credit some money in my account for all the photos that I was sending her.
She said she’d send me a cheque of Rs. 100000/- and if I wanted more, she’d wire some money to my Swiss Bank Account.

Mom says that she wants to re-design our interior now that she has time… The school is closed for the summer vacation and Dad’s around…Let’s see how far they go in doing anything there.

- Manu

I don’t remember the end. I was in the dark for a long time and that was all I could remember. Everything before that ran through occasionally like a 15 second trailer. After a while I got used to the experience and did not really bother worrying about the constant blackouts and the short trailers… Then, suddenly, I started getting my senses back. I was in a moving thing… a vehicle? Building? Plane? Lift? Yes… lift. It could be lift. I was scared of lifts before… before the long blackout. I couldn’t see anything and I had a feeling that I was in it for a long time. The air smelled like a fridge… cold and stale. Then suddenly the lift stopped. I didn’t know if I was going up or down. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn as long as I didn’t know what happened before the blackout. The doors opened and I could see a well-lit floor; like the one I worked in. I stepped out and a guy called me from extreme right.

‘Hoy! C’mon over here.’

I looked at him. I had seen him somewhere before but I couldn’t say where.

‘What are you fuckin’ around for? Come here!’ He raised his voice. I walked next to him. He was sitting on a wooden chair holding a tablet in his right hand. He looked at me and the gadget and then back and forth again as if he was confirming my identity. He looked like Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

‘Mmm?’ He looked up from the tablet.

‘Who are you?’ I asked again.

‘Business.’ He said.

‘What?’ I asked. I had never met anyone who had that surname before.

‘Business. Mr. Business. You can call me that. My first name is None of your Fuckin’. So… my full name is ‘None-Of-Your-Fuckin’-Business’. Understood, smart-ass? He looked straight through me.

‘You can put down your god forsaken arse down on that chair over there’. He pointed towards a corner where there was a brown chair kept like it was abandoned. I was speechless from his behavior so I walked slowly towards the chair.

‘Listen’, he called from behind. ‘When I call you, stand up and walk through that door right over there.’ He pointed at the extreme left of where I came from and I saw a door there. I had not seen it before.

I nodded. He mumbled something and went back to his tablet. Hours passed and I didn’t move. The trailer played several times in my head. I started understanding that it played things which I had forgotten long ago. I did not understand why I was remembering them now. The guy looked up from his tablet to look at me and shook his head in disbelief. He stood up and slowly put down the gadget on his chair and walked over to me.

‘You don’t really know why you are here. Do you?’ He asked.

‘No.’

‘You are dead, sonny. That’s why you are here.’ He poked my forehead with his point finger.

I was silent. It took me several minutes to figure out what he said because I couldn’t believe it.

‘You don’t remember how, right?’ He asked.

‘No.’ I said.

‘Well, I can’t tell you. Not part of my job profile.’ He raised his hands in dismissal.

‘What can you tell me then? Am I going to be judged or what?’ I asked.

He raised his eyebrows and pretended to be shocked.

‘Well, what do you think?’

‘I’m trying not to. Are you God?’ I asked. I felt pretty stupid asking him that.

‘Surprise… surprise.’ He extended his hands and shouted at my face. I didn’t move.

‘Well, I am not God. We take care of things that need to be taken care of. We never call ourselves Gods or… supreme beings. We cannot create Thunder or cause rain as some of your brethren believe… we just have a little more brain capacity than you guys and we use it for better things. And the last thing, most of us don’t think you guys deserve to be judged. Understood?’ He stopped.

‘No.’ I said.

‘Exactly what I was talking about, right?’ He smiled at my face from a close distance. I felt pretty offended. I wanted to punch him on the face.

‘So what exactly is behind that door?’ I asked.

‘That’s where you get a chance. Let’s call it a chance giving committee. Some of us are trying to help build a better place and I am just the doorman. Having said that, I should also say, that I hate this god awful job… sitting here all day and receiving impertinent souls…’ He fell on his knees and started sobbing comically, ‘Nhooooo nohhoooooo No…. sir, it must be a mistake…  please send me back… I’M NOT DEAD…..!’ He got up and became normal. ‘So when your turn comes, I will kick your arse through that door and you’ll face a couple of guys over there that you shouldn’t mess with and you’ll calmly answer their questions… that’s all you need to know.’

I nodded my head. I felt even more stupid but I swore that I will not ask any more questions and give this guy any chance to ridicule me.

‘To be on the serious side, you answer their questions wisely, young man… because they’ll give you a chance if you deserve it.’ He said that with the most serious note I have seen and started walking back to his seat.

‘A chance to do what?’ I asked.

He stopped midway and turned around, ‘To do better… to amend… and believe me, not everyone gets one.’ He started walking.

I sat there looking at the door.

Then, suddenly, the door opened.

‘Go on…’ He said, without even looking at me.

I walked inside the room, slowly. It was not lit properly. It took my eyes a bit of a time to readjust to the light of the room. I must’ve looked like a fool there.

‘Face us.’ A voice said from my right. What’s with sitting on the right sides? I turned right.

‘I’m sure you have met Adam outside. Sorry if he shook you… he’s been stuck there for a long time, hoping to be promoted.’ There were two men and a woman sitting there staring at me. One man looked like Indian. The one next to him was definitely of Mongoloid origin and the woman looked… Middle east, mostly. The men looked like they were around their sixties and the woman must have been in her forties.  I felt like a criminal in front of them. They had this unusual surge of energy oozing out of them and filling all around me that’ll make any saint from earth feel like a petty pick pocket or a thug. I moved a little closer to them.

‘What do you want? Where am I?’ I asked.

‘We try and keep things simple here. So what if I say you just have to answer our questions and then we’ll answer your questions later?’ The woman said.

‘I guess, that’s alright with me.’ I said. She was the most intimidating woman I have ever seen considering the fact that I didn’t have much of a memory left. I realized my skin was tingling.

‘Okay… what do you think of life?’ The man, who spoke initially, looked at me.

‘Beautiful…’ I said.

‘Gautam, let’s don’t ask him the usual ones. Why don’t we let ask according to our new test pattern?’ The woman asked the man.

‘I think you are absolutely right, Mary.’ The man whose name is Gautam said. ‘What do you think, Kong?’ He asked the Chinese man. I hoped his first name wasn’t King.

‘I think that’s fine. But, is he the right person?’ Kong asked back.

‘Until we give someone a chance, how’d you know he or she is the right person, Mr. Qiu? Mary asked.

‘Alright.’ Mr. Q turned to me. ‘We are going to give you a chance to ask us one question. If the question is a right one, we’ll give you a chance. I mean, your chance of getting a chance depends upon your question. Okay with you, kid?’ He concluded as if he explained a great theory to me.

‘Well, nothing here is understandable but I know what happened to me and I know there’s virtually no possibility in me getting a second chance, if that’s what you mean by repeating that word and hammering that down through my skull…’ I was agitated. ‘But, hell yeah… I’m ready. But…’

‘Yes?’ Mary asked, raising an eye brow.

‘Can I ask anything?’

‘Related to your life, yes, you can!’ Mr. Qiu answered.

‘And, no questions related to confirming urban legends or celebrity secrets… understand?’ Mary asked.

‘Okay.’

‘You are ready?’ Gautam asked.

‘Yes’

‘Then, shoot.’ He said.

‘Did the birds know we were feeding them intentionally? I mean… they didn’t think that they were being clever and were engaged in some sort of a heist… eating the grains we kept for them in the balcony, right?’ I asked, suspiciously.

A silence fell among them. They looked at each other. Mary had a smile in her eyes, waiting impatiently to spill out. Mr. Qiu looked like I defeated him in a game of chess. Gautam did not have any particular change in his facial expression.

‘That is your question?’ Gautam asked. ‘You are not interested in knowing anything else from your life? Why you are being brought here or made to ask these questions blah blah blah?’

‘No… not really.’ I shrugged.

‘Interesting.’ Mary said.

‘Is it?’ I asked. ‘Is it because you don’t know the answer?’

‘Of course, we know the answer.’ Mr. Qiu said. ‘Why do you think we’re here if we don’t know the answers?’

‘I don’t know.’

They started talking among themselves in an inaudible way. I was getting bored. Finally, they stopped and faced me.

‘You’ve been given your chance. You can go back.’ Gautam said.

‘Where to?’ I asked.

‘Wherever you want…’ Mr Qiu said.

‘Mr. Qiu!’ Mary stressed. She looked at me, ‘Wherever you came from…’

‘Okay.’ I turned back.

‘Wait…’ Gautam called me from behind. I stopped and turned.

‘Don’t you want the answer to your question?’ Mary asked.

‘Sorry. Yes…’

‘Yes. They knew. But, they like broken rice better than the huge grains.’ Gautam said.

‘Now… off you go!’ Mr. Qiu said.

I turned around thinking gloomily about meeting Adam again but I blacked out again. I woke up in my car upside down. I blacked out again. This one was a long one. Then I woke up again, this time on a bed in a room which had a blue ceiling. A TV was on with no sound but it was playing news. I couldn’t move at all. I must have made some sound because I could hear someone walking towards me in a hurry.

‘Oh my god! Stay like that…’ a female voice said. ‘Doctor, please come to ICU room 5, the patient seems to have regained consciousness.’

I tried looking back at the TV.

 - Manu

Hi folks,
Have not been able to keep track of any of you for over a week. My sincere apologies to all!
I was on a forced leave from social networking to channel all my attention to something called a DC (Doctoral Committee) for my work. Oh yeah… I had forgotten all about that. This committee requires me to produce facts and updates of my work in every six months. It is to keep track of my work and also to see if I am on the right track. So, just before this committee, I take some time off and sit and work to make it as presentable and simplified. You see, the DC I am talking about is organized by the Centre I am registered in. But, there’s another DC which my supervisor organizes. That is the one I (care for) wait for because that is the real deal. I get to ask questions and get my doubts cleared by people (two experts) who actually have a clue about what I am talking about. They ask me meaningful questions which deserve answers and they give me valuable suggestions. I do not need to tell you guys that the first DC is a mockery of human intelligence and a waste of precious time that could be used for something else. Even going for a casual stroll across the campus would be a much better experience than this.

This is how I go to present my paper in front of the mock DC. It is just a formality most of the time but you know what formality becomes a pain in the arse sometimes when rules are broken…

 Loads of confidence oozing out of me, I wear my best clothes, mask my otherwise inhuman nature in a wide smile…

Then, they’ll start asking me questions…. They go like,
A. Where is Translation in this?

B. Did you translate something?

C. What will you do after this work? Under what category does this belong?

Then, I start feeling like this.

Someone’s always lucky. They always arrange the seating in such a way that I cannot walk behind them. If I could, for a change, this would have been my response….

Anyway, none of this happened and here I am. Hopefully, back for some time. I am gonna catch up on some sweet people and their works that I missed. I don’t want people to forget me… push me back in to the dry cells of their memory…It’s been a terrible week and I fought a freakishly terrible migraine attack and the Ayurveda medicine someone gave me try was a big help. One drop of it into my nasal cavity cleared my sinus although the next hour after that could have easily taken me off this planet. I really don’t have any plans to leave this world like that.

p.s:- Where’s Rahul? I haven’t picked on him for a long time.

- Manu

To…

Shadi.com – I don’t know where you got this mail id. But, I’M NOT LOOKING FOR THE PERFECT LIFE PARTNER. Besides, if I marry someone listed in your countless profiles and then get irritated with her later, will you guys come and take her away or replace her or something? NO!!!!

FaceBook – I do not play games! Understand that…
Please don’t suggest complete assholes to be added to my friends’ list… there’s a reason why they are not in my friends’ list even though we may have 70-80 mutual friends!

My Phone – I know predictable text is useful and all. But, you’re a bit too predictable for my tastes. When I type ‘I’m going to have…’ , you don’t have to give ‘sex’ as an option. I usually mean ‘breakfast’ ‘lunch’ or ‘dinner’.

My bike – I fixed you. I spend a lot of money on you. Please be a good boy now and behave. Or I’ll be forced to retire you and parcel you back home to be kept as an antique piece in my garage. I do not think you really want to be covered in plastic and travel 1500 kms in an iron box, rubbing shoulders with filthy bikes. You are much more than that. This is the last time I talk to you in such a length, alright?

Hyderabad Restaurants – (a) Please give more than one Menu card when a group of five occupies a table. I regret resorting to violence to order food for me.
(b) When I tell you to pack the rest of the food for me, it means I have counted the number of meat pieces in it, if any. I know you guys eat one or two pieces on the way to kitchen. It is just a testing I do to check how many of you assholes are really honest in running a place.

(c) If I’m paying 500 bucks for a dinner, assholes, I have the right to say ‘shut up’ to noisy people. That is, if you don’t! For the rest, I hope your restaurant is insured.

The Neighbor – Learn civilized living, buddy. Your rights to produce noisy brats are as important as my right to have a peaceful day. Remember, a man wouldn’t know when he would snap! Every knock those brats make on my door, are going to be repeated on your tooth later. Requests are not working with you, pal. I’m sorry.

WordPress – Your ‘Reader’ sucks! Your android app sucks!

The Fundamentalists – I know you guys think of me as an ignorant fool and I think all of you, regardless of your religion, are bastards with no brains. Let’s leave it at that and continue living as best buddies!

The guy living in 201 – Sir, a scooter needs to be kick started if the plug hasn’t fired for a long time or the petrol valve is closed for a long time. Trying to push the button for fifteen minutes will only help in reducing the life of your poor battery and also to wake up poor souls like me.

My former teachers from School – I never respected you people. Sorry to say that but I really did not. That school was hell for me and you were Devils’ creatures flying in to torment me in the most innovative ways. If you have taught me anything at all… that is to make me realize how not to be like you at all. Besides, you’ve made that place look like a freakin’ fish market.

- Manu

P.S: The last sentence of the last warning had to be cut short because it was exceeding the limit of one-page. If you all haven’t noticed, I have a strict One-page Policy. Warnings for rapists, abusers (of all sorts!), politicians etc are on the way.

Filed under: Harmless Gossip, Political Commentary Tagged: android app, Bike, Facebook, Fundamentalism, Hyderabad, Phone, WordPress ]]> https://starscrutiny.wordpress.com/2013/04/22/warnings/feed/ 20 17.385044 78.486671 17.385044 78.486671 starscrutiny https://starscrutiny.wordpress.com/2013/04/21/do-your-dutty/ https://starscrutiny.wordpress.com/2013/04/21/do-your-dutty/#comments Sun, 21 Apr 2013 02:38:41 +0000 Manu Kurup http://starscrutiny.wordpress.com/?p=5156 Continue reading →]]>

Been reading a lot about Sanjay Dutt and his apparent plight in this democratic nation… I get served news in different ways. I choose to pluck the newspaper out of the metal gate and read it. An app provided news links to my phone page and my homepage for the phone is Times of India! I have not been paying much attention to news once the bastards called media shamelessly helped in turning out the fire that broke after the Delhi gang rape case. Some of my friends thought I was being callous in talking about the Delhi Gang Rape. To them, I wasn’t being a tightlipped asshole. I was just curious to see how far this would go. I have an experience in going to a struggle against the government; an experience that I very reluctantly unveil… We saw a protest gathering up in the capital and the beloved political leaders came out in flocks day by day and the police presence went down and gatherers went back to their Baskin & Robbins or Pizza Hut or even talking a bit of Marxism, as that has been the fashion in this country’s leading institutions.

I only asked one question that day, in my last blog about this subject. How many of those gatherers have the power to employ their vote in the coming elections? 20… may be 30% in my calculations. You saw a hell lot of a people; most of them University students, who are old enough to vote but the question is, how many of them would actually vote? Take the pain of standing in queues and put their seal in a ballot paper and make their right to have a democracy count… not many. These are the people who pout about standing in queue to pay their semester fee. Most of them might be having an ID card (iisued by the Election Commission) but being away from their electoral mandals, only a few of them could actually vote. I cast my first vote in 2004 public elections and 2006 State Assembly elections. After that I have not been able to cast a vote anywhere! Leave that as it may….

Two days ago, a minor girl was raped in the same streets of Delhi and also in a bus. Nobody came out of their nests and howled for justice. I do not understand the sociological reasons for this but I will be thinking it over until I get one. Hell, I will even launch a Facebook group and launch an investigation from my couch, eating lays and drinking single malt whiskey! I will debate this over and over again when I brush my teeth or sit in toilet!

I started talking about actor Sanjay Dutt. He is convicted to serve 3 and half years in Jail for having a party to the 1993 Mumbai blast cases. He is a professional actor and is affectionately called Sanju Baba in film circles. During the beginning of his career, he was known to be a cocaine addict and also found to have been in the same circles with dreaded dons of Mumbai mafia; Chota Rajan and Dawood Ibrahim. It is twenty years after the blasts and most of the victims and their relatives or friends might have lost their trust in the judicial system and the Supreme Court has suddenly told Mr. Dutt to serve some time in Jail. We see the film fraternity rallying behind Sanjay Dutt and ‘seeking justice.’ Everyone knows that actors, regardless of which country/industry they belong to, are dumb! What they do recognize (or their IQ permits them to recognize) is his/her posters from someone else’s. That’s all their brain need to do. Of course there are a few people that come out of this peer group and think differently. When an actor is capable of thinking differently, we call them ‘intelligent actor!’ That means, (Yes! I am Harsh!), they only need to think different inorder to gain the title of ‘intelligent’.

Apparently, Mr. Dutt is a changed man and hence the name ‘Sanju Baba’ (Sanju, the pious!). India has a long history of very violent men turning pious when they age. Ashoka (the great) might be a world-class example. He killed nearly 15 million people in battle to find his greatness and God. Just like that Sanjay Dutt had to serve One and a half years in Jail to find god and ‘inner peace’.

Inner Peace…..

Why do people rally support for someone who is guilty. If they respect the ‘democratic’ part of this nation’s constitution, they should welcome the Supreme Court decision and let the actor serve his time. As much as I like Mr. Dutt’s recent performances, I really want the decision of the Supreme Court to be served properly.

- Manu

P.S: The Mighty and Righteous ‘Supreme’ Court gave Sanjay Dutt four more weeks to surrender to his fate. I wonder if the same love is available for a common man?

Filed under: Contemporary News, Films/Stars/Acting, Harmless Gossip, Political Commentary Tagged: Director of Public Prosecutions, Domestic violence, False accusations, Languages, Men, People, Programming, Violence and Abuse ]]> https://starscrutiny.wordpress.com/2013/04/21/do-your-dutty/feed/ 12 17.385044 78.486671 17.385044 78.486671 starscrutiny images 562441_359514477481832_834775122_n Inner Peace.....