Bachao!

Yes, that is what I would scream out when a movie turns out so sour that I end up strangling myself for watching it. This is usually what I would do in general but if it’s an exclusive ‘treat’ from bollywood, then it gets uglier. I’ve been watching bollywood grow (or degrade) through the years since the day I have learnt to understand the language. In the late 80’s and early 90’s, the movies were so caught up in unraveling the twists and turns in the very popular and monotonous theme of ROMANCE, either woven out by a cheesy writer or partially or completely borrowed from the other film fraternities.

Every movie had an incredibly audacious hero by the names Raj/Rohit/Aman/Rahul/Vijay (sometimes with a sidekick called Mitto or Bittu or Chintu) who had fallen in love with the gracious Pooja/Tina/Priya/Sapna, with one of them from a super rich clan and the other clamped in poverty. The plot usually works out on how the couple fights on tirelessly till the end against the tyrants with wild names like Rocky/Tiger/Vicky/Robert and with the inclusion of the infamous dialogue from the lead female “Mujhe Bacha Lo!” every time the villains eye her. Oh and how could I go past without a mention on the sizzling songs where the lovebirds run around (yet managing to get the music notes a 10 on 10) with a 100 or something dancers out of nowhere amidst the rain, snow and the ‘holy smoke’.    

Ok, I quit with the mockery but I simply cannot help it. Today bollywood in its utmost glorified version has a mass appeal all over and I wonder what has happened to the world.  Movies that kill me are the ones with huge numbers rolling by their side and the ones that I get impressed with turn out to be among the lowest of the lowest in the box office. Inspite of being a part of today’s Gen-X, I find appeal in watching the wonders of Nasseruddin Shah and Om Puri and off late Paresh Rawal. Why are filmmakers so hesitant to portray the messages that are important in the real world? And why do actors go on signing such blunt movies that makes you want to throw a brick at them? Movies like Parzania, A Wednesday, Road to Sangam make it to the limelight once in a blue moon and yet are over shadowed by the supercilious and glamour-obsessed film industry and its audiences.

Bride at 9, divorcee at 10

That is the title that caught my attention from an edition of The Times of India. Out of curiosity, I checked out the article. What I read after that was shocking and sick to the core. The story of Nujood Ali strangely resembles the Khaled Hosseini fiction: A Thousand Splendid Suns. I couldn’t help but write something about the ordeal that left the 12 year old Yemeni rot for over a year.

Nujood Ali, a regular school going girl from Yemen, who loved math and Quran classes, was forced into marriage at the age of 9 to a man old enough to be her father. She was raped on the first night of her wedding and regularly abused by her in-laws and so called husband, until she ran away two months after the wedding. With the help of a relative, she filed for divorce and was granted freedom later in the year becoming the youngest bride to legally end her marriage. With that she made headlines all over the world and was declared ‘Women of the Year’ in 2008 alongside Hillary Clinton and Nicole Kidman by Glamour magazine.      

Today her story is being told through her memoir "I Am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced " composed by a French journalist and is appearing in about 19 languages world over. She and her sister are attending a private school at her hometown with the funds she received from her book. She says with a smile, "All I want now is to finish my education. I want to be a lawyer."

I simply couldn’t stop imagining her plight and how disgusting and insane people can get. It’s great to know how successfully she fought her way out through the agony but it’s heartbreaking to realize the pain in her at the time when she should have played with her dolls.

We all have been truly blessed with a roof above our heads and satisfied with our never ending desires to carve out our lives better than the others. One thought of what girls like Nujood go through, is enough to make our stomachs turn over.       

http://www.glamour.com/women-of-the-year/2008/nujood-ali-and-shada-nasser

The Unexpected!

Believe it or not! I have been awarded with the beautiful blogger award! Yaayy! It finally feels great to be recognized for what you write rather than estimating one’s blog by the number of visitors dropping down for a peep.

Anyways, I have been awarded by my little friend Magali @ Life etc. Thanks a lot! XOXO!     

There are a few rules for the award, some of which I thought were absurd. I will just put up what is necessary.

1. Share 7 things about yourself.

2. Pass on the awards to 6-7 different bloggers who you think are the best.

It's as simple as that. So let me kickoff with my 7 "characteristic features".

1.Born and breed for more than half of my life in the tiniest pearl island - Bahrain. Proud to be part of two unique countries.

2. I dream on opening up my own book store when I get really old. Books on everything you could possibly imagine. I even have ideas on having small reading sessions for kiddies (inspired from 'You've Got Mail'). Reading makes up most of my life and is absolutely necessary for my survival.    

3.I used to be a super nerd back in school with real geeky glasses. But I guess I straightened out alright in the end. I used to be the typical teenager with pimples, mouth full of braces, long stubborn hair and yes my dorky glasses.

4. I have to spend at least an hour everyday on my own. Maybe to reflect on varied ideas, think of how or where I will end up in 10 years or just sit there staring into the green and play with my hair with music.

5. Close friends say that I am a lot sweeter than required and that people get an incredible urge to take advantage of this. It’s true to an extend but the fact is I ain’t that meek people!  

6. As a kid I have had a blend of transitions of what I would want to become when I grow up. Starting from being an astronaut, archeologist, painter (inspired by my mom), news reader cum reporter, author of a thriller (always been a dream), designer, social worker, a kindergarten teacher, editor and lately the bookstore dream.

7. I am an engineer by profession but it was never my cup of tea. I quit two jobs in a year and I am still in search of what I want.

So this is what I have got. And as per the tradition, I would like to present the awards to:

Anirban @ It's a Miracle!

Anand Nair @ Like a Fish in the Net

Dave Fry @ Dave Fry's Picture of The Day

Magali Vaz @ Life etc

Prerna Malik @ The Mom Writes

Sachith Rajagopal @ Perception

A Tribute

This is a tribute to a magazine that made up most of my childhood and teen years. “YOUNG TIMES – CELEBRATING THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH” by Khaleej Times. I still remember when my dad got me the magazine way back in 1995 and from then on I simply fell in love with it. I waited for every Tuesday evening after dad got back from work to grab on to my favourite comic strips (which included Marvin, Blondie, Hi and Lois, Archie, Hagar, Beetle Bailey and a bunch of others), those short fiction columns, awesome posters, classic cover stories, Sanjeev Kappor (of the Khana Khazana fame) columns, word puzzles, Stampaid by Uncle Malik, music countdowns and what not! Call me childish, but I would always make sure I wouldn’t end up reading everything in a single day and would carry on till Monday evening and get ready for Tuesday. Oh those days bring in such warm memories and truly wish I could go back in time.

This time when I got back to Bahrain, I must have gone to every single store in the island in search of the magazine, though in vain. I thought they must have stopped their sale in the country but ultimately a few day back I heard (via facebook) they halted the publication altogether which is why I was prompted to write something about this incredible journal which I am sure has been cherished by millions of children for the past 25 years or so.

After a dig into my old treasures, I caught hold of a few old copies dating back to 1999. These are a few snaps. (Apologies for the terrible flaw in my shots)

Cinesphere

With a lot of time on my hands these days, I decided to check on some of the movies of 2009 that I had missed out on. So in the span of 3 weeks, I checked out on a lot of different ones, some absolutely appealing, some dull and the rest, well, I didn’t bother to watch after the initial 5 minutes. Of the whole bunch, there were three movies; The Blind Side, Julie and Julia and An Education; that I thought were remarkable in every sense. Interestingly all three are stories of real people and has the protagonist as a woman with each one scoring an academy award nomination. These characters have again, like their predecessors showcased how soaring woman can get to change perhaps one life and how their words can take you an extra mile. Amazing isn’t, how movies open you to these ‘global women’, whom perhaps you have never heard of until you’ve watched their true lives unfold through cinema, and end up googling or reading their blogs to sense their moments of life.    

I can’t help jotting down a word of criticism regarding our Indian cinema. Aren’t we done romancing with the age old fairy tales? Where are the stories of those survivors who have walked out of the flames and have enriched their lives for others to awe upon?  Other than for the somber Madhur Bhandakar movies, the year-end Aamir Khan splendors and works of a few other gifted filmmakers, we have a long way to dig out those special tales of special people. 

Another Jago India post. Hmmmm....

I was wondering whether to actually write a post on the ongoing “Mumbai is mine! No, Mumbai is ours!” issue. But then I have written enough about the pathetic state of our country and I am done. I have stopped believing in the democratic policies of this country and my hatred for Indian politics has reached a new height. Mr. SRK, I hope you don’t falter on your stance like the others in the past.  Of all the movies that you have done, this is THE showdown that has made me one among your million fans. 

Modern day nomad

I have gotten lost with time and travels for the past one year and two plus months. Today as I sit to write this piece of thought my mind wanders over everything that has happened till date. This has made me believe in destiny. I was/am destined to be what I am today.

As a newbie to the great city last year, I had no clue as to what was coming. All I had was a nervous heart and a bag full of dreams. I had not felt so light since my days in Bahrain. The city lifted me to a new dimension, created new hopes and I got days that I would never forget. Work was crazy but who cared. As long as the paychecks were fat and on time, nothing mattered. There were days when I used to catch the late evening bus, sit by the window with the wind on my face and wonder what more I could ask for in life. I loved everything around me (except work) and I loved the people who cared for me. My friends were great especially my roomie. If not for them, nothing would have gotten so perfect like the way it was. We would enter our room everyday with huge shopping bags and later at night laugh out on our stupidity and gossip out like crazy. Other than for the occasional bouts of homesickness, we were living life to the full, sharing every moment with laughs, tears, late night food poisoning, rat hunts and everything possible.

Three months went off like a flash. And then again I was off to another new city. Just that this time I didn’t feel so ecstatic. The place was familiar and so were the people. But yet there was something odd that I realize now. The people I met were so fresh and extremely cordial. I hadn’t come across such people for ages. I had stopped thinking that such people existed anymore. Every morning they all had a great eye-blinding smile to offer, great attitude and every ready to be at your service. It was as if the world was again a better place to live in. I loved taking long walks sometimes alone and sometimes with friends among the busy streets. The city was as good as the previous one in its vibrancy. There was an added advantage; I stayed right opposite to the big political HQ. The live violence, protests and strict policing wasn’t a very pretty sight but this was reality. The people who we usually see on our television were regulars on the streets. One thing that troubled me every weekend were the bus rides that I had to take back home. Nothing better than this would give you a stiff neck and a creaking back for a whole day.

Months again flew by and one fine day I was back to the place I always wanted to be in. You always know what you want the most. And to be here was mine. The feeling to be about ten years younger and carefree is awesome. I belonged there and to me, this was the best place in the whole world. The camera kept clicking in my hands every second. I didn’t want to miss anything. Life was perfect for the third time in a year at a different place and yet again I was left thinking what more I could ask for.

And again I after a few weeks I was back to the city where everything started out. The feeling to be back was great and to be with the people who meant so much to me was the cherry topping in my life.

And I am back after my nomadic days, looking out for another chance to crave out perfection in my life. Every place I visited has brought out a new shine inside me. Everything that has happened at each place was a path that led me to the new one. Life straightens out on its own as it is destined to be.
A new year has come and I hope someone who knows me would truly tell that I have become a little mature and a little of a better person. Don’t get me wrong. I am not asking for compliments. Critics are invited. More than that, I hope I have brought only smiles to everyone I have come across. So people go have a great year!