Taare Zameen Par - Mighty Nice, Aamir!

Well...to say Taare Zameen Par - Every Child is Special is a brilliant and magical film would be an understatement. It’s an exceptional and extra-ordinary film in every respect. So Aamir and Team - take a bow!

It’s a movie that takes you on a real emotional high. Especially if you are an emotional person, better take some extra tissue as it has the power to moisten your eyes quite often.

The story has many facets but it mainly deals with a little boy’s journey from darkness to light, from failure to success helped albeit by his drawing teacher. It also raises a question about the current urban trend of measuring childrens’ performance merely and purely by academic success he/she achieves. And finally it offers a meaningful solution to the question.

The Plot

Ishaan Avasthi (Darsheel Safary) is a loveable young boy of 8 years of age. He stays with his parents and his older brother, Yohaan in Mumbai. He is blessed with an amazing imagination and has an immense liking for all small (read apparently unnoticed) things happening around him like fishes in a school-side pond, birds and water puddles of which he paints pictures vividly.

Unfortunately he ignores his studies, writes in a bad hand-writing which sometimes looks like Russian, bunks school for a day and signs a fake sick note from Yohaan. All this in spite of failing in 3^rd standard for first time. The school has to maintain his reputation and his parents are forced to break off his term and dump him in a boarding school.

Thus the little boy is deprived of his sole emotional support and we see a naughty and jolly Ishaan drift into a sad & dejected loner. So much so that he quits painting and dreams of committing suicide.

In walks a temporary professor, Ram Shankar Nikumbh (played stunningly by Aamir Khan) who is sensitive and sensible enough to notice that young Ishaan suffers from a neurological disorder called DYSLEXIA whereby he is unable to recognise the alphabets & numbers in the first place then leave alone comprehending words and sentences.

Nikumbh works part-time for Tulips, a school for mentally-retarded kids. As he dreams of bringing these kids into the mainstream he also takes pain-staking effort to repair and restore Ishaan’s self-confidence and eventually turns Ishaan into a winner.

The Act

Everything about the film is so special that no words in any language can do justice in correctly bringing out its “feel”.

In Darsheel Safary, Aamir has found a winner. Young Darsheel’s performance is so real & effective that every single beat of your heart reaches out to Ishaan and his suffering.

The gradual transformation from the naughty, bubbly Eishan to the sober and emotionally-dry Ishaan and all the sufferings in between and then again his blossoming into a winner has been enacted with such pristine beauty & clarity that Darsheel deserves a standing ovation.

The other players are also perfect in their part.

The Lyrics and Music

Prasoon Joshi & Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy have once again turned out a fine blend of lyrics and music and every song is melodious, situational, has meaning to it and amazingly gels with the overall story, mood & feel of the film.

Listen & Watch out for all the songs but  Taare Zameen Par (Shankar), Mera Jahaan (Adnan Saami) and Kholo Kholo (Raman Mahadevan) deserves a hats off ! 

Most importantly, each song has been shot brilliantly. Taare Zameen Par with Tulips’ kids as a backdrop brings a tear to your eyes, Mera Jahaan shows the world through Ishaan’s eyes (notice the amazing shot at Marine Drive or the ice-candy bought by the poorest of the poor labourer for his son whom he carries on his shoulders) and the amazing rhapsody of lyrics and emotions in Kholo Kholo.

The Direction

 Aamir is known to be The Perfectionist and this film does not prove just that. Rather it proves Aamir is The Super-Perfectionist. As a directorial debut, Aamir Khan has done a stupendous job. Right from the word ‘go’, Aamir has your undivided attention to whatever pictures he has painted on the celluloid.

His shot-selection is impeccable and the way his frames moves captures all your senses. You not only see and hear the film but become a part of it. And credit must also be given to the Creative Director Amole Gupte and also to awesome screenplay & research by Ms. Rita Bhatia.                      .

Another thing about this film is Aamir has maintained a perfect balance of the film by diluting the grim situation of Ishaan’s suffering (notice Ishaan’s cryinjg in bathroom during the song and his refusal to speak to mother on the phone) with the bright and sunny times at the NEW ERA's (notice the humour of New Era school teachers’ cartoons emerging at Drawing Mela).   

 We all knew that Lagaan did made it to the final 5 at the Oscars but did not win but well....Taare Zameen Par just might!!!

 There are so many magical moments in this film (like the one when Ishaan puts his raft sail in a small lake at a mountain-top or cherish the moment when Ishaan’s name is announced as a winner of the drawing mela) that you will swear to watch it at least for two more times! It seems that  The Law of Diminishing Marginal Utlity just doesn’t apply to Taare Zameen Par.

 And after reading all this review if you are still not rushing to see Taare Zameen Par...either you are a duffer or you suffer from DYSLEXIA!!!

I am no movie-buff but I definitely know a little bit about good
and not so good cinema.

Dev Anand starrer 1961 hit "HUM DONO" is a Classic Masterpiece.
No two opinions about it.

The film revolves around Anand and his tryst with destiny.The storyline is exquisitely simple and happens during World War 2.Anand (Dev Anand) and Mita (Sadhana) are madly in love.But Mita is a daughter of a rich but a self-made man (Gajanan Jahagirdar).

On the day when Anand formally goes to Mita's palatial home to meet her father, he gets insulted by her father on the same old "SUKHI ROTI " issue.

A frustrated & pained Anand joins Army and goes to Burma.
While on the battle-field, on day, he finds a wallet belonging to a certain Major Verma.

He goes to the base camp only to discover that Major Verma is just his look-alike.(Thankfully the guys at Navketan did not think of Judwaa bhais Lost & Found formula  here)

Both become fast friends and in their freindship Major Verma shares his grief and pain over separation from his --or rather everyone's family.

"Woh kya hain ki humein apne maa se, premika se , biwi se alag karta hain.." he says in a voice which moves you to tears !

Later in the war, Major Verma is fatally injured and almost sure of death.He forces Anand to leave the war-front position with a promise to take care of his mother (the great Lalita Pawar ) and his wife Ruma (Nanda) if he dies.

Anand leaves the Major dying on the battle-field and joins his other team-members and continues fighting the war.

The next thing we know that Anand is promoted as a major and his leave is granted by Army superiors - he returns to his home and another grief awaits him.

His mother is no more but Mita has been waiting for him for all this time.But a greater surprise and shock awaits him.

His plans of marrying Mita are shattered when he visit Major Verma's house to fulfill his promise but is mistaken for Major Verma himself. And due to Rooma's weak heart, he is forbidden to reveal his true identity by Major Verma's family doc.

Caught in a strange strife he has to decide between a conflict to tell Rooma the truth or not....

A lot of high action and emotional drama follows and finally he is able to win Mita over all his obstacles.

The movie is shot beautifully ( though it is shot in black and white) and what is beautifully portrayed is the interplay of the characters and their emotions truely echoes the fact that the film is made with a lot of passion and love.

The utter destruction that war causes on the soldiers and their families is also quite self-evident.

And now about the players -

Dev Anand - I think this is one of best films by Dev Saab...I have truely liked him only in GUIDE so much as in this film.

He has done a classic act with both the characters and their mannerisms..on one hand, Anand - the young man madly in love, careless but yet very self-motivated and on the other hand the warm but strict Major Verma really deserve all accolades.

Sadhana is just too cute as Mita - really uses her eyes terrifically.

Nanda has really portrayed a mature housewife for whom PATI PARMESHWAR is the whole and her soul. And strikingly her love is revealed at the climax to be of such a high superlative and spiritual value that one can just wish to be loved in such a way by his/her spouse.

Music by Jaydev is amazing - all the tracks are melodious and you tend to loose yourself when you listen.

"Main Zindagi Ka Saath Nibhata Chala Gaya" (Md.Rafi) is an all-time inspirational while "Abhi Na Jaoo Chodkar" (Md.Rafi-Asha)takes love to a new high. "Allah tero Naam"(Lata)  is one of the best bhajans the Indian film industry has ever produced.

"Kabhi khud pe kabhi halaat pe rona aaya" ( Md.Rafi again) is a real slow melodramatic kinda track.

Direction by Vijay Anand is awesome.Starting with the romantic scene between Anand and Mita, the battlefield sequences, funny scenes at the Battle-field ( when soldiers are confused when both these "judwaa bhais" come together), family scenes at Major Verma's house  are all shot with 1000% honesty, sincerity and simplicity giving it a classic masterpiece look.

Three Cheers to all those who have made, saw and liked this movie !

To end ,

"Main zindagi ka saath nibhaata chala gaya,

Har fikr ko dhue me udaata chala gaya,

Barbaadiyoon ka sok manana fizuul tha

Barbaadiyon ka jashna manaata chala gaya" 

meaning ---

I lived my life with a full heart,

Puffing out all worries like the (cigarette's) smoke

T 'was futile to grieve ( or ponder over )  my losses

(Thus) celebrating the losses I lived

मी शोधतोय मलाच माझा मीच
आयुष्यातला कल्लोळ वाढतोय
आणि एकाकीपण सुद्धा

जीवनाच ध्येय हरवल आहे
अर्थाची दिशा कुठे भरकटली
आशेचे दिवे मालवुन मी
एकटाच बसलोय क्षणांचा हिशोब करीत

कृष्ण सांगून गेला "कर्म" करीत राहा
म्हणून आम्ही 'जगत' राहयलो
आमचा पेला सारखा 'अर्धा' भरलेला
म्हणून पुन्हा पुन्हा भरत राहयलो
पण

आयुष्यातला पण कधीच सरत नाही
नेहमीच्या परिघाबाहेर आम्ही कधी पडत नाही
असेच चालू राहीले तर....
एक दिवस असा येईल

मनातल्या मनात
दाबून टाकलेले विचार
कोंडून ठेवलेल्या आकांक्षा
उर फाडून बाहेर पडतील

आणि तेव्हाच होईल
पुण्य-कर्माचा .................
एक महा-भयंकर '' अणुस्फोट " !!!!

MATHE-MAGIC -  Part 2

At the Home – the Confrontation!

At 8 o’clock, I rang the bell. She opened the door.

“Hi”, I said.

No reply.

“Hi, I said.”

Still no reply.

“Now please Neha…for godsake at least speak with me.” 

“There’s nothing left. Anyways… I am leaving by tonight’s Air Deccan flight. Taking Aryan with me to New Delhi ( that’s where my in-laws stayed).” 

“ Ok Ok..now please calm down.” 

“I have told the bai to cook for you ONLY from tomorrow and don’t drink too much after I leave. You have an allergy.”

“Please Neha… I don’t know how to say it…but I am really sorry!”

“Don’t say anything. You’ve already said enough yesterday.”

“Ok ..but at least hear me out first. Even the convict is asked his last wish.”

“Bad joke. But Ok. Shoot.”

 “For the whole next month, I have cancelled all my meetings, presentations and whatever. I am going to come home early and study Maths. Think a month should be enough to catch up with Aryan’s syllabus. Then I am actually going to sit with him every weekend and understand why he is not able to do better and then start the repair job…..And this is not limited only to Maths. I have some plans and I am going to try to teach him in a way in which he understands and enjoys.”

Well, you may say she was mighty pleased with my speech and I must have sounded really serious and sincere but still she had some doubts.

“Do you really mean what you just said?” 

“Talk to my boss!”

Just then my cell rang. It was boss. I told her he wanted to speak with her. She did speak with him and 5 minutes later  hung up.

“What was he saying?” I asked. 

“That you’ve-cancelled-your-meetings-stuff.” 

“Convinced?” 

No reply. 

“Are yaar.. ab maan bhi jao!”

No reply.

“Ok. At least do one thing. I’ve got your favourite strawberry ripple from Baskin Robbins. Have it and then I will come with you both at the airport. What time is the flight arriving?”

“Rahul!” she said in a soft voice..”Now don’t talk to me in a tone like that!”

“Think I will have to do classes for this also.”

“Don’t say a word!” she said and moved quite close to me.

I melted and took her in my arms.

“Promise me…..,” she said…

“That we will make great love tonight..” I completed.

“Now that wasn’t funny at all.”

“Ya. Who said that was funny. Shouldn’t we?”

“Don’t change topic, Rahul. Promise that you will be as caring and loving and understanding as today.”

“Now that’s tough. But I will.”

I could see love in her eyes and really felt an urge to kiss her. As I was about to lock my lips with her, she asked, “But how did you realize…”

“Thanks to Kasturi.”

Me and my big mouth.

Immediately she moved away from me. “Now who is this god-damned Kasturi, the new secretary?”

Then I had to go great lengths to explain her what had happened in Bus no.385 and even the equation.

“But I don’t get it”, she said. “Where does the equation fit?”

“Well, at the Gym running at 15, in a fraction of second I made a simple substitution.”

“Now don’t talk like a Mathematician.”

“Look here… you are x, I am y and Aryan is z.”

“What?”

“Yes… I am and always will be dependent upon you and Aryan upon both of us.

Now observe closely.

Initially x was 2, y was 3 and z was 5.

But later x remained at 2, y became 1 and z became 8.

The problem with me was that I was attaching a huge priority on my job and forgetting my responsibility as a father. That is why I was 3 and Aryan was 5. 

Now Prof.Kasturi want to maximize sum of x, y and z.

I wanted to maximize happiness in our family.

So if reducing y from 3 to 1 increases z from 5 to 8…..”

“The optimal solution becomes 11 which is much better than earlier solution of 10.”Neha said.

I never knew Neha was that fast.

“Thanks.” I said and looked at her.

She was smiling and I could sense some expectation from her side. But I decided to play safe.

“You know what I’ve learnt.”

“That you should make every effort to save your wife from going to her in-laws.”

“Not funny at all. I’ve learnt not to focus on single thing, but rather understand the mutual dependencies between our relationships and figure out the best way forward.”

“ Good stuff.” She moved closer.

“ You know, Neha”, I said kissing her on her forehead, “ I think I did it well. I remembered Kasturi’s message to go to the roots!”

“But you haven’t gone to the roots yet!” Neha said.

“What ?”

“Yes..you are close but not gone to the roots…”

“Please.”

“...roots of my lips!”

Needless to say, that was my best ever kiss and you know who gave it to me…

Yes. Till that day, I believed that Maths didn’t gave me anything but on that day, MATHS gave me everything.

The man in Bus no.385 sat in a window-seat holding piece of paper in both his hands. All his attention seemed to be focused on that piece of paper.

It was drizzling and that absorbed a lot of humidity from the air. You will find Mumbai hot and humid at any time in the year and we Mumbaikars have now become quite accustomed to it as we are to terrorists' attacks and collapsing apartments.

He was dark, very thinly built and had a small face. His shirt was light-blue in color and a black leather bag was placed on his lap. His gaze was fixed steadfastly on that piece of paper and that made me curious like hell.

Luckily at Dadar, the passenger sitting just beside him alighted and I grabbed the seat in a fraction of second.

(This is one habit that you will notice only in a real Mumbaikar. No matter how tired we are, all our fatigue is driven away once we spot an empty seat in a bus or train.

Time and again it has been said that India performs dismally at the Olympics but if one has the patience to observe how Mumbaikars catch trains and buses, he will realize the sheer depth of talent we have for all the damned athletics in the world.

It is my honest opinion that any Tom, Dick or Mary (Women should have one-third reservation - hence Harry is out of the league) living in Vasai/Virar is capable of winning a couple of medals - at least to begin with.)

I kept on looking at him. It was a paper torn from a note-book and had something scribbled in pencil hence not distinctly visible. After a lot of time and effort, I could make out that they were some Mathematical formulas. So our man was a nerdy professor.

Now I was in a fix. Long ago in my school-days, I realized the harsh truth that I cannot be-friend Math and ever since it has been a very tough relationship (for both of us) to sustain. I can vouch for the severe pain inflicted upon myself and many of my friends - and this pain has been ever-increasing as we grew.

In the early days, big brother 'Algebra' tortured us to no end with all his Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD) like "Pythagaros theorem' and 'Quadratic Equations.'

while 'Ratio and Proportion' made us realize what was the ratio of "our" IQ to those of the smarter kids - which in turn resulted in creating a major INFERIORITY COMPLEX which I have not been able to shrug off even today though today I am married and a father of a 6 year old.

And just when we thought Algebra was being kind with us, his younger brother 'Geometry' came down heavily upon us and we were badly hurt by all his pointed rays and vectors. To this day, even if someone urges me to explain difference between perimeter and circumference, I AM READY TO ACCEPT DEFEAT.

And finally all hell broke loose with the arrival of 'Trigonometry.' Looking back, I feel all Trigonometry forced at us was a huge "SIN" committed by education ministry.

And this Professor of ours was actually playing with all these WMD day in and out. Immediately in my view, he transformed into a terrorist - albeit an academic one.

I felt as if I committed a crime by grabbing this seat. It was getting real hot and immediately I began searching for some other seat. But of no avail. Not a single seat was vacant. Now what to do? Do I sacrifice this seat for fear of Math Prof or do I not ?

'To be or not to be, that is the question', says Shakespeare in Hamlet.

Finally I decided to stay put. I was really tired and quitting could have been worse. I also decided not to speak with him. But then it was too late. My continuous peeking into that goddamned piece of paper had broken his concentration. He was now looking at me and he smiled. I had to reciprocate. I smiled back.

"You are interested in Maths?",, he asked with his misty eyes.

I was about to faint...but I needed to show some courage and lot of wits.

I took the paper from him and wrote down all the givens one by one like this ...

Maximize A = x+y+z

y = 0.5x
ie. A = x + 0.5x+z
       = 1.5x + z  

Now, z = 3x + 2y
Substituting y = 0.5x we get,
z = 3x + 2 (0.5x)
i.e. z = 3x + x = 4x.

now if x = 2, y = 1 and z becomes 4 times x or 4 times 2 which is 8.
Hence the solution is 11 !"

I felt exactly the same as Robert Langdon when he cracked the Da Vinci code!
 
"Good work, Rahul. You haven't forgotten the basics. But the real problem was quite complex...  I kind of over-simplified it for you."

"But Sir, how did you solve the real problem?"

"BY FOCUSSING ON THE ROOTS! The inter-dependencies of variables. Once I figured out their mutual behaviour, it was a cake-walk!" he said in a jubilant mood.

" Thanks, Rahul. But oh no ! I need to get down. My stop has arrived. All the best to you, Rahul."

"But Sir...your good name?"

"Kasturi. Professor Kasturi." he said in a James Bond-ish style.

Just then my cell rang. It was Neha, my wife. I froze. I went blank as if I was living in a vacuum.

Neha and yesterday's fight. Some memories flashed. My furious temper and her silent suffering. Subject - Aryan, our 10-year old. He had failed in Maths and that made both of us quite upset. We had put him to the best tuitions but still he had failed. And then, Neha had uttered the bitter truth.

"Rahul, just accept it. You don't love your son enough. You just love your high profile job and your endless power-point presentations."

Now that definitely hurt my male ego.
"Ok I dont love Aryan and I don't love you either. Why don't you just leave me and my f****** work alone?"
"Now don't speak with me in a tone like that!" She had tears in her eyes.
I felt sorry but was too stiff to say sorry and patch it up.

I sat there thinking what was happening to me all these years since I decided to shoulder the "higher responsibility" at office. What the heck was really happening in my life? Why suddenly I had become so rude to Neha? Was this the real me or was it Mr.Rahul-the workaholic-and-stressed-out-professional? I couldn't get anywhere and the noise in my head kept on increasing.

I just couldn't think of facing Neha in home. There was only one place that was ideal for me and after getting down from the bus no 385 and the weirdest experience with Prof Kasturi, soon I found myself heading towards The Bar ...i.e the gym called "THE BAR" near my home.

To be continued hopefully in part 2 ..

Kahaani mein twist hain.

This is the poem which has saved my life - on coutless number of times,

This is the poem that has helped me survive when infinite amount of criticism is hurled at me by

1.my father,
2.my boss,
3.my friends and colleagues
4.the bus conductor when I tell him that I dont have change and he secretly wishes to screw me up and
5.so many other people who make me realise how foolish, stupid and incomprehensible I am.

Anyway - enough of praise...

O READER.. PLEASE BEHOLD !!!
NINE STANZAS OF ULTRI-INSPIRATION.....

A Psalm of Life
 
What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist
 
TELL me not, in mournful numbers,  
  Life is but an empty dream!—  
For the soul is dead that slumbers,  
  And things are not what they seem.  
  
Life is real! Life is earnest!      5
  And the grave is not its goal;  
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,  
  Was not spoken of the soul.   
  
HEY-- DOESNT THE GITA ECHOE THE SAME SENTIMENT ??


Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,  
  Is our destined end or way;   10
But to act, that each to-morrow  
  Find us farther than to-day.   
  
TRES SUPERBE !!! WHAT MATTERS IS NOT HOW GOOD  YOU WERE YESTERDAY OR TODAY BUT WHAT MATTERS IS YOU SHOULD BE ( & DO )  MORE GOOD TOMMORROW.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,  
  And our hearts, though stout and brave,  
Still, like muffled drums, are beating   15
  Funeral marches to the grave.  
  
In the world's broad field of battle,  
  In the bivouac of Life,  
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!  
  Be a hero in the strife!   20 
  
HERE ..THESE LINES ARE WORTHY OF INSTILLING SO MUCH STRENGTH AND COURAGE IN ANY TIMID AND INSIPID MAN ...THAT HE CAN DO WONDERS.

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!  
  Let the dead Past bury its dead!  
Act,—act in the living Present!  
  Heart within, and God o'erhead!   
  
YES SIR !!!! I PROMISE YOU I WILL.I HAVE TO .THERE'S NO OTHER WAY THAN THIS.

Lives of great men all remind us   25
  We can make our lives sublime,  
And, departing, leave behind us  
  Footprints on the sands of time;   
  
ABSOLUMMENT ! READ THAT THOUSAND TIMES OVER ...

"Footprints on the sands of time ''......
THATS MY GOAL !!!


Footprints, that perhaps another,  
  Sailing o'er life's solemn main,   30
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,  
  Seeing, shall take heart again.  
  
Let us, then, be up and doing,  
  With a heart for any fate;  
Still achieving, still pursuing,   35
  Learn to labor and to wait.

AMEN!
NO WORDS!
SPELLBOUNDED!
O LORD - I SEEK YOU!

P.S _ Ultri means Ultimate and Terrific all rolled into one.

Nowadays, it has become a cliche to name Mr. So & So as a role model.And channels from spirituality to movies are busy minting money by distributing awards like "Indian of the Year" and so on.

Nothing wrong with that either.

Today's society is starved for super-heroes/heroines and everyone from Ms.Kiran Bedi to Ms.Rakhi Sawant can claim their name to fame by their utterly revolutionary deeds.

And so how can I not join the band-wagon?

My role-model is a hero neither by appearance nor by deeds.

To tell you the truth, he is a drunkard. A person who drinks every day and night.

On meeting him face to face, the first thing you notice or rather your nasal glands will notice (except on a day when you are having a real bad cold) is the strong pungent smell of liquor.

And then if you bother to look at his face, you will notice a pale face devoid of any emotion except his sunken deep eyes.

Flared up in such a dark reddish shade that I fear a newly-married lady would scream to her young smart hubby - "Merawala Red !!!"

He is a thin - pale man, with a dark complexion and often seems to be lost in himself. Not at all an interesting character.

He lives very close to my home, scarcely has visitors, have no friends and very few distant relatives. Born loser, you would say.

However, he has a family - 2 daughters, both married and a wife - inflicted with a mental disorder.

"Schizophrenia, that's what the doctors said. You know, Rawgul.My head went crazy allover the place".

Rawgul.That's how he pronounces Rahul.I like it immensely.Calls me by name rarely. For most of the times it is "Ma Friend."

He talks of his youth. A young man of 18 - getting married off to a girl of 13. From then onwards, started his long and untiring journey ...rather a saga of suffering, frustration and .......albeit TOLERANCE.

"Hey Rawgul, you see ... I cud have quit any day. She's outta her mind - beat me black n blue one day. And on other,just left home - with ma two kids inside.Even flirted with some of the fuckin' guys I knew well."

You just don't know what to say at that.You realize, atsuch times that, silence is a powerful tool.

"Ma friend, you donno in those days how I survived with ma two angels. I had to go to work with no one to look after ma girls except this mad lady."

By now, my impatience is really exhausted like his 4th peg of whiskey on the table.

"Oh Dear Sir, why the hell did you not try for divorce or inform her parents or put her in a mental home ?"

I feel elated by the options my brain thinks of. But his reply puts my pride to dust.

"Rawgul, you don't get it,".. he pauses . "I loved her, maan. She had nobody in this wretched old world n ma kids wud loose their wretched old madder (read mother)."

His reply turns my head down to see my second half-empty glass of beer. I should have told the waiter to make it extra strong.

"Hey Rawgul, look at me man."

Now I have seen smart guys becoming dumber after gulping down a couple of drinks.But he is simply the reverse.

"Only for ma two kids", he murmurs in soft voice.

We all have our ups and downs in our lives.

In our ups, we celebrate and in our downs we feel dejected. Depression imbibes our thinking and engulfs our character.

I have seen men and women with the sleekest gadgets and posh-est clothes but with dark circles beneath their eyes and it tells a lot in a few seconds. A lot. Of their lives and their stresses.

But still we pull on. Hope that tomorrow will be better. Hope is elixir of life, they say.

But what could I say to a man who has been only through his down for 40 long years. With no hope to look for tomorrow.

But for all these 40 years,he stood tall and firm. For his girls. Educated them. Got them married off in due course. And it is this quality I simply admire.

Quality of TOLERANCE. Fighting against the tide. Swimming upstream. Whatever you may call.

Last year, his wife died. I went to the funeral. I have never seen a man who found great relief even in his utter grief.

The Begining.

Elections and  Selections Part 1 :

Date – 31^st Jan 2007. Time : 10.50 Pm. Place – A Mumbai Suburban  Railway station.

After a heavy pressure day at office, I get down wearily from the train and I meet an old friend’s younger brother. An I.T guy. Young and restless.

We exchange the usual “ Hi’s “ and “How are you’s” and “I am doin great”- stuff. Since we happen to stay nearby, he offers me a ride on his bike.

As he leads me into a nearby “galli” with dim lights and an unmistakable odour of human toilet , I ask him “Do you park here everyday?”.

“Yes”, he replies.

“Any parking charges?”

“No, its free”.

“Is it really safe to park?”

“Haven’t lost anything so far.”

This is one of those moments when you feel as if you are the most dumb person in the world!

Have to change the subject.

“Hey, Good Bike”, I remark as he unlocks his “Splendor”.

Now my knowledge of bikes is just as good as nothing.

But  I have learnt from experience that the adjective "GOOD" is just too GOOD to be used in such situations.

Soon he sits, puts his helmet and off we go!

To our homes – which also happen to be the place where we go when we have nothing else to do in office.

He is a real rough driver and  I am really enjoying my ride. The cold Mumbai wind  hits me on my naked face and I feel elated.

"So going to Vote tomorrow?” I ask. Tomorrow are our local civic polls.

"Nope."

"Why, man ? Not interested?"

“No that’s not the point. Our office starts at 9 AM.”

“Now gimme a break, dude. Even ours starts at 9.30 AM but we are allowed to go 2 hours late or leave 2 hours early. That’s as per Govt rules.”

“ Ya … but we work a bit different.”

I am amazed, shocked and angry at this guy’s employer.

“But voting is a constitutional right granted by the ….” I go on with my usual “gyan” as we zoom in a what-must-be a 85 kmph speed.

I really speak candidly against his “cruel” employer and go on great lengths to drive home the point that this is not only wrong but also a grave inhuman crime.

What kinda I.T companies are we working for ?

That which rob us of our rights to vote just because they have to cater to international clients.

The bike slows down.

.......
Oh! Home Sweet Home.

I really must have spoken for a great deal of time.

 And in all my emotional outburst, I had forgotten to ask the guy HIS opinion on all this.

I ask him the point-blank question.

He thinks for a while and slowly replies....

“ Look here, Rahul. At the end of the day, it’s the client whoz gonna pay!!!”.

I am shocked, speechless, dumb-founded, aghast, and…………..

also a little wiser !

Continued from Weight Redn - 6!!!

Brief : I am 84 & want to get married. I need to slim down and try jogging.Not as easy as blogging and soon loose hope. Visit Bengali Baba and with his "blessings" am able to resume jogging. After 6 months of ferocious jogging minus good food , I think I have achieved golden glory ( and can now marry golden lady!!!  But doc disappoints me saying I am still 84.However the weight machine I am standing on says 74. I am dead confused. Aur ab aage....

Exactly six months ago, it was 84. And 84 minus 74 is 10. I had lost 10 kgs. but doc says - NO WEIGHT LOSS. And .....

THE HIDDEN SURPRISE:

as my face turned into a big question mark....the doc’s room was filled with a great laughter.

Surely something was wrong with me.

Either my ears were deceiving me or I needed to register myself in a mental hospital.

I looked around.
Not only was the doc laughing but hey...my mom , dad and what the hell... even both of my grandparents were chuckling with smiles written over their faces.

Just as I was about to drop dead due to surprise, shock and over-confusion all rolled into one, the doc spoke, “Well, Rahul, lemme explain you the whole stuff. Promise me two things. Don’t interrupt me and answer honestly all questions that I ask you.”

“Well, I will try but not promise”, I replied.

The following conversation followed-
(D for Doc, M for Me)

D - You know few months ago Greg Chappel had complaints about Ganguly...

M - Well, the whole India knows.... but whatz that gotta do ...

D - What did Chappel do ?

M - He shot an email to BCCI guys which leaked.but howz that related to .....

D - Exactly. So he communicated to the right people.

M - But...how the hell thats connected to me???

D - Similarly your parents communicated some complaints about you to me.

M - What complaints?

D - That you are a lazy guy ... very lethargic... not at all active in home.

M - Ok Ok Ok .. what next ?

D - That you do nothing after coming from office. Just eat , sleep and watch TV. Now are these true?

M - Well , ....... yes ........ but.....

D - No ifs and buts.....your parents wanted to change your lifestyle and they wanted me to play a crucial role.

M - .............

D - So I promised ..by hook or crook I will make you physically active. And I very well knew that it was never possible by hook. So I used the crook.

M - What ?

D - Well you see .. just like Ketan Parekh manipulated share prices, I kind of manipulated your weight.

M - What ?

D - Well on the first day , just before you walked in .. I made an “arrangement” in the machine by which it showed 10 kgs more weight than its actual .

  So when I told you that you were 84, you were actually 74 and by all means quite a fit person, both physically and mentally.

Not like Ganguly as per Chappel’s mail. And then purposefully told....actually lied that “You were not physically fit to enjoy happy married life”.

I knew for marriage’s sake, you would really awaken the tiger ( no connection with Bengal Tiger or Saurav Ganguly) within and do all that is required to trim down and...... in the process become a nice physically active person.

M - Now I get the whole point. But just a doubt, If I was 74 even six months ago, how come I am still at 74 after six months full of jogging and Karela juice and Bengali Baba’s holy ash.

D - Nice question. Look here.This is because of the concept of ‘optimum weight’.

It is that weight linked to your age and other metabolic factors which is your ideal weight and will not undergo any significant change within a given level of activity.

74 was your optimum weight and even if you did 1 hour odd jogging everyday, it has not changed.

M - Hmmm....now some things are clear.

D - But why did you go to that silly Bengali Baba. Now thats bad for a person like you....

M - Well I was kinda desperate and wanted to leave no stone unturned. But he is quite a good guy.(referring Bengali Baba), he has branches all over country and soon he plans to open a International Branch at Malaysia....

D - Havent you seen today’s news? That Bengali Baba has been arrested in Malaysia for having links to International Mafia.

I was clean bowled - lock, stock and barrel !!!!

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL:

I was not only relieved but also happy that I was quite safe and sound from the danger of being over-weight and NOW no “deewar” existed between me and my proposed marriage.

“ Hmm.. very very smart ,Sir and I have no regrets.”, I told the DOCTOR, happily.

And turning to all of my family members who were looking at me with a mischievous n fishy  look of how-we-fooled-you in their eyes, I said...

“And for all of you, Very Well Played, INDEED.
You have nearly made me a “MTV - BAKRA”, but I promise to continue this habit of daily exercise for the rest of my life, so don’t worry. But for now, I must rush.”

“For jogging?” asked the Doc.

“For eating Roshogullas?” asked my dad.

“Must be for that Karela Juice”, my Mom. (She doesn’t ask. She asserts)

“No, all - wrong. Where for but to find a suitable BAKRI for myself !!!”, I remarked.

The room was filled with a roaring laughter and believe it or not, even Socrates (our family dog) laughed on that very fine day.