Check it Out

(view of my Alma Mater from space on Google Earth)

You guys must check out this site www.wikimapia.org

.org not .com remember.

You can get great satellite pics of all your fave places, and even your own homes etc.
Like Google Earth, Do you say? I know, I know. Its just that this is better. Try it and see for yourself.

(same view but on Wikimapia)

Great Comment on the books Shyam. Keep it Up and others learn something from Mr. U. (Now with the Dhoom craze and Mr A's etc I am also going to follow suit. Atleast till the thrill wears out) Surprised that Ms. R and Mr. A have not seen fit to respond. Stopped reading have we?

I also would like to take this opportunity to web-smack that crazy M.P who suggested that the King be made a President in Nepal. Either throw him out and begin afresh or let him be as he is. What's this about a President. Who in their right mind wants a President in any country (the U.S included) Grand state occassions gets turned into a pantomine everytime Hon. Kalam steps out or when Bush opens his mouth. To really understand the value of the monarchy (inspite of them being big-spending free-loaders as per Mrs Blair) you should all watch The Queen. Apart from Helen Mirren who as ElizabethII gives a lesson in acting and subtelty it also shows how a monarchy serves as a symbol of stability & impartiality in an everchanging face of local politics. When Diana died and the British were thinking of abolishing the monarchy there, Blair was at the peak of his popularity just like Messrs Koirala & Prachada are now. But as Her Majesty tells Blair towards the end of the movie, "The public have a funny way of changing loyalties. Sometime in the future, suddenly and without warning, the same will happen to you"

We all know where Blair is now and knowing Koirala i am sure we can expect the same very soon. So in the middle of all this having a monarchy is the only decent thing to do.

Sorry to all you non nepalis who must be wondering where this blog is going.

By the way i am also starting a iNGO called "Lets Make Prabir History".

Oops! that should read "Lets Make Prabir's Bulimia History"

Contributions are welcome and should be addressed to either Mrs. R or Mr. S

For Cathy,

Wonders never cease.

People are beginning to get addicted to my blog and some come back regularly for a 'fix'. Even the ones who supposedly dont have any time except to cannodle with the other half.

Before i go on a very Happy Birthday to Dom. Since you have not given any of us your contact numbers in Mumbai we could not call. Prash and me did manage to speak that day and wish each other on your behalf. Anyway hope you had a great birthday. I am sure you are getting a lot of birthday presents in birthday suits in mumbai as i heard the party scene is quite rocking there. Good Luck and God Bless from all of us.

The reason for the delay in posting my blog was simply because of the fact that my parents arrived in Dubai last tuesday and were staying with my cousins and i had to go pick them up and you know how it is.... busy busy busy little bee.

Heard that Dhoom 2 is quite rocking. And if Zee News (which for the record is the worst channel on TV) is to be believed the Bachchan's are supposed to be very angry with Ash for kissing Hrithik. Yeah and she would have kept that as a secret till the movie released. Phew. What junk passes in the name of news now a days.

By the way does anyone know if Shyam is back from his honeymoon. And where has he gone anyway. Prash was saying he went to Seychelles while Cathy said Maldives (where Mr & Mrs Cruise are also holidaying currently). And where does Prabir guess he went? Let us not even go there. Shudder shudder. Such venom in such a small head. Tsk Tsk.

More soon i promise.

After some time i am planning to compile all my favourite blogs and publish them.

Prabir: Any thoughts?

Till next time..... as Ash and gang say... Go Dhoom!

Ciao

An Outrage

HI Again,

All of you who know me know that i am not easily outraged. Angered, amused and pissed-off maybe, but seldom outraged except in rare cases like when people throw cats and dogs out of moving cars for 'sport' (see blog dated friday October 13).

However last Friday I went for a Ghulam Ali concert and to say i left the concert outraged would be an understatement.

The crazy man strolled in 1 hour late and then proceeded to sing only classical numbers. In his own words he "informed" us that he has been singing for 50 years, so for the first half we should listen to his choice and that in the second half he would take requests.
Pakistan Television, PTV, he added, survived and flourished only because of him. (I could not figure why that piece of info was given to us at that juncture)

The charlatan then went on to sing precisely 5 songs in 1.5 hours. If you are wondering why it took 1.5 hours for 5 songs, well.... he decided that he would do his riyaz here and go aaaaaahhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhhh, saaaaaa reeeeeee gaaaaaaaaaaaa for ages.
In between that he also managed to scold the official photographer, a member of the audience for standing up and almost every member of his troupe for being out of tune.

Now my issue is simply this. When you insist on travelling with your own musicians (at what must be quite a considerable cost to the organisers, which is then passed on to the poor ticket buying public) the least you can do is get them to tune their instrumennts before the show.
And please dont take out your frustrations on the other musicians when your own son is playing the spanish guitar (dont ask) on a completely different scale.

At this point i have to be honest and mention that this is not the first Ghulam Ali concert that i have attended. About 2 years back i had been to one in Nepal with Prabir. I had flown the whole night and chatted with family and friends the whole day and then attended the concert in the evening. Therefore i was gracious enough to attribute the mind-numbing boredom that followed to lack of sleep. (I would also like to say jetlag but HRH Prabir insists that jetlag is only applicable when you fly from Wisconsin to Kathmandu.)

Oooh how wrong was I?

After the neverending first half finally got over i dragged myself to the bar (selling overpriced & overwatered drinks, even by Crowne Plaza standards) hoping that like the nawabs of yore, lifting a few glasses would help lift my spirits too. Alas that was not to be.

Post interval Mr. Ali decided that just fleecing people of their hard earned money wasn't enough, he would thrust his son on us too. "Please," he intoned in mock humility, "bless my son by listening to a few of his songs."
Talking of the son here let me be succinct.

Overweight, Undertalented & Uncharismatic. Period!

After that was over and people started to get restless, he finally asked for requests and guess what.... he decided that he would not sing them. Why? Because he 'decided' that the audience should listen to newer songs and not pine after old stuff. Towards the end (nearing 2am) the crowd finally had enough and began to heckle, which only helped to get him more riled up. Chupke Chupke, Hangama etc came the loud and boistrous cries from the cheap seats in the back. Sensing trouble but still defiant, he sang the requested songs but only a paragraph each. Then abrubtly he got up to go but forgot that the door was at the back of the hall.

To see a great artist (he does have his talent) be ushered out amid boos and mockery almost made up for the horror that was the evening.

Pity PTV could not capture this.

Mediocre + Mediocre doesn’t a Masterpiece make

Hi Guys,

A good friend of mine Jashoda from Sikkim, who is also an editor among many other things has recommended a few good reads. Namely “The Inheritance of Loss” by Kiran Desai and “Like The Flowing River” by Paulo Coelho.

I have heard a lot about “The Inheritance of Loss” but after the high of the Booker, things seem to be going downhill all the way. I heard that her portrayal of Kalimpong isn’t quite flattering and what’s worse, I believe, is that she seems to show a very naïve understanding of Gorkhaland and the subsequent Hill politics even though she did live through that period in Kalimpong itself. Too much like an outsider looking in, which is not necessarily a bad way to go when you are writing a novel but to then pretend that she is a ‘simple girl from the hills’ is hypocrisy. Of course, not having read it as yet I am only speculating on speculations and normally I don’t go by those but her aunt who still lives in Kalimpong I heard isn’t too happy about it either. That for me is enough. Amen!

Long ago when Aparna Sen’s “36 Chowringee Lane” (which I personally loved, by the way) was released, a lot of critics went ga-ga over it and fell over themselves trying to find superlatives to describe it. Jug Suriya (a columnist of certain renown with the Indian Express) wrote a brilliant article. He asked if Indians had become so used to mediocrity that even an average film makes us behave like we have created a classic. Indian writing in English is also in the sameboat. Apart from Amitav Ghosh, no one is currently producing anything of substance. No one who’s read “A Suitable Boy” or “Midnight’s Children” can read any of the later books by either Seth or Rushdie and not notice the marked deterioration in character study and form.

Now I have to admit here, albeit at the risk of sounding like a heretic, that I am not the greatest fan of Paulo Coelho. I have not read his Alchemist and other novels but did manage to read “Eleven Minutes” and quite frankly I was sorely disappointed. It was nothing better than a Danielle Steele novel(who by the way, along with other potboiler/airport novelists has her own merits but then that is another topic for another day). I found it a downright corny book trying hard to be philosophical. Spirituality, mysticism, sacred love etc have to be portrayed by the characters and they must live those ideals so that by the end of the book you feel what they feel. You cant have it stuffed down your throat. Then it is just fanatic preachings in the name of literature.

As far as I personally go, my gauge for a good book is how I feel after I finish it. I don’t remember who said it but in one of the old Reader’s Digest’s “Quotable Quotes” page was something I believe in 100%. It said:-

“You know a book is really good when after you turn the last page and put it away, you feel like you’ve lost a good friend”

Halleluiah to that.

And to all you Desai and Coelho fans, my sincere apologies.

Surprises in the Mail

I must tell you of this wonderful thing that happened this morning.

I got a call in the office from EMPOST (the local courier company) asking for my exact location. When i asked him where the letter was from he said it was infact a 'parcel' from someone he did not know as the FROM address wasn't clear. I wasn't expecting any parcel from anyone and so i waited with a mix of confusion and low-expectation.

When it (see above) finally arrived i found that it was an exotic gift set from Mrs Shraddha Rana (Prabir's wife to the uninitiated) all the way from NEPAL.

Well if this doesn't deserve a blog i dont know what does.

A very very BIG and Sincere THANK YOU to Shraddha and the foetus. She did metion Prabir also but, knowing him as well as i do, i am pretty sure his contribution in this was virtually nil. The whole effort of choosing a gift and god forbid, actually going out and couriering it would be too stressful for him. It would mean thinking of the gift, making decisions, missed siestas, travel in traffic filled roads, conversing with the bourgeoise staff at the courier company et al.

Naaaah Not for Prabir this humdrum routine and painfully crass behaviour.

So Thank You to Shraddha and the Foetus. I heard from reliable inside sources (guess who) that the only time Prabir shows any willingness to exercise himself (for want of a better phrase) is after 9pm and before 6am.

As soon as office gets over, I shall go home and wash myself with the curiously titled Yogi soaps and then, as Shraddha suggested, rub myself with the oil.

Shakespeare seemed so prophetic in Hamlet when he said:-

"To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come"

Once more a Big Thank You to Shraddha. And for the record i loved the gift and even more the thought and effort behind it. Do keep it up.

I too wish you many many fun and fun-filled 'rubs' with your 'Yogi'.

Till Next Time....

Blog Late because of Flu

HI Guys,

I'm not Arnold but I'm Baaaack (If you dont get the joke then dont bother. Its P.J anyway)

I am back after a long and well deserved break. With Diwali, Eid and My Birthday falling together it was very hectic to say the least.

Now some of you must be very surprised to read “Birthday” in the above sentence and well… YOU SHOULD BE!

Some wonderful people (you know who you are) did call and wish me but for the others who forgot, well, there’s a special place in Purgatory for you guys. And incase a wise smile is beginning to creep around the corners of some of your mouths, the second category also includes those people who called/wrote very cheerfully after the 23rd chiming “Happy Belated Birthday”. Belated my Ass!

Since I am still in the 1 year mourning period for my paternal uncle, Diwali was subdued and sombre but I did manage to light some lamps. It reminded me of home and family and nice, kind people…... you know, the ones who remember to call you on birthdays and wish…etc..

And since the D-Day, or should I say B-Day, fell bang in the middle of Diwali/Eid, I had my party on the 27 and even though I say so myself it was rockin. At the end of it I was tempted to shout Zindagi Rocks but thought better of it. Would have been too corny and too hindi. Ha Ha.

……..‘CAUSE I AM A MATERIAL GUY….

Anyway I got a lot of gifts (hint..hint) ranging from the bling-bling (gold) to quasi-religio-bling (Ganesh-Om pendant) to sublimely useful (a portable DVD player) to cool (a Jazz sculpture) to artistic (a charcoal sketch) to mundane (a shirt) and finally to kitschy (Happy B’Day inside a golden Heart which turns musically when wound up).

I hope the adjectives above gave you a clearer picture of what I appreciate and what I don’t. It should come in handy for future reference.

Ooh, and I got a hug too, but the apt adjective for it had to be censored.

Some people (who fortunately shall remain unnamed) were so afraid that the recently concluded month of Ramadan would affect the flow of my bar, that they decided to combine generosity with practicality and gifted me 2 bottles of Red Label. Suffice it to say that they then proceeded to drink it themselves.

A big thank you to all of them and to all the others whose gifts, I hear, are in the mail (wink..wink).

I had decided to NOT cut a cake this year cause I feel very embarrassed being the centre of attraction (honestly I do) but a couple friend of mine decided that it just would not do and ordered a cake. Actually the grammar in the last sentence is wrong. It should be plural as in CAKES cause they, lets call them the Cake-Couple, decided (for reasons that would become alarmingly clear later) that I should cut not 1 but 2 cakes. The facial that i got after that made it quite clear what most of cake # 1 was meant for.

WHAT TO WATCH AND WHAT NOT TO…

I also managed to catch some movies during this period and one was great and one bizarre.
Don was great. I hadn’t watched the old version and so was looking at it with un-prejudiced eyes and found the movie very slick and well made with some very interesting twists in the story which, I have to say, were not predictable at all. That’s quite a big achievement for a Hindi movie. SRK initially started off clumsily but then fitted-in so well that for once you forgot it was King Khan on screen. Khaike Paan.. was quite rocking, esp when seen on screen as compared with the trailers on TV. SRK seems to do the bad guy act pretty well and why not, since his breakout roles in Baazigar and Darr were both negative. When Kareena (looking hot but with thunder thighs) offers to answer his ringing mobile, watch him snarl at her and say “Leave it. Its Mine”. The ending I hear is a departure from the old Don and what a kick ass one it is. You can’t help but smile at the absurdity of it and yet the panache that it is carried off with.

Jaan-E-Maan in one word was bizarre. Again what originality can you expect from a man whose sole claim to fame is that his hair is longer than his wife’s (loudmouth choreographer Farah Khan for the uninitiated). He seems to be greatly influenced by Broadway and that is not necessarily a bad thing unless he begins to shove it in the audiences face in every single scene. He seems so stuck-up with the ‘big picture’ that he misses all the subtle emotions. Every frame is so loud, overlapping and jarring that it’s a wonder they are not giving out paracetamols along with the popcorn. Salman (sadly beginning to look his age) is just about bearable in the beginning but once he lands in Manhatten, his accent, which even otherwise was always doubtful, goes for a real toss. Almost all his various conversations in English (and there are quite a few) with different American characters (and there are quite of few of those too) has a different accent. They range from normal American to Country to Hey-Dude kinda twang. If that wasn’t bad enough, I also caught a hint of Caribbean/Jamaican when he said “I can do it Maaan”. Preity, however, is looking so stunning that the entrance cost is almost covered by that alone. And you cant help but go back home and not practice Akshay’s hey..hey..hey…hey laugh with your friends. But seriously, I need to take back more than a laugh with me at the end of a movie. Gimme me Don anyday.

A CONFESSION…

I was just reading the whole blog now before posting and I couldn’t help but think what many of you have already thought and what some have even said out loud.

“This Vishal seems to have too much time on his hands!”

But to paraphrase something, someone, somewhere, said so eloquently…..

“Don ko rokna, mushkil hi nahi, na mumkim hai”

Till next time….