Random Thoughts

I used to have strange thoughts as a kid...mostly prior to the school reopening after summer vacations, I used to wonder how would it be if I forget English alphabets.

Even today there are times when I wonder is there a possibility that I might forget how to write and, this happens mostly as an after effect of whenever I try to find a misplaced thing or try to recollect the sequence of events on a particular day and fail to place something in context.

Then I start worrying, all sorts of random thoughts begin crowding my mind; and then for few minutes I would  just dive into a visualization ride where I am old and a forgetful.

 And then my mind starts sending pieces of memory randomly which I had thought had perished or had thought would not be worth preserving...such as scenes from the movie 'Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind' start floating (reminding of selective memory deletion)...and, then a flashback of a visit to a friend's place; whose granny used to forget things, she was a lovely lady, the way she carried herself even at the age of eighty was amazing, she spoke about her college days and the places to she had been around the world...and then half an hour after the conversation when we gathered for dinner she had no memory of me...that was scary.

If I could be a Ghost

I was wondering how would it be like to be a ghost?? I have thought about this many a times, probably hangover of reading too many spooky stories during those teenage years. But there have been times I have seriously wished that I could have some superb magical powers at least for a few days. I have made a list of things to do also…

• Going to chocolate and pastry shops and do some shop lifting.
• Rob the accounts of some millionaire industrialist and then donate that money to child welfare organisations.
• Trouble some people to such an extent that they will need a shrink permanently (sounds really mean)
• Take some of the most notorious and corrupt politicians and drop them at North Pole, where no one would find them and they would not find a way out for themselves.

And the list goes on…on second thoughts, I could trying having a chat with Shekhar Kapoor, he might give me Mr.India' s secret formula ;-)

The Elusive Checkmate

Yuvraj Singh has been making headlines after he was diagnosed with cancer, I heard various people saying various things about him like..."Why he?"..."No one will marry him now"..."Is he going to survive? will he play cricket if he is cured?"

Why he? is difficult to answer, but cancer has been an equaliser across the regions, religions, and continents. No one is big or small in its eyes, it has been generous to both the rich and the poor. Well one may argue that rich can afford the best of treatment, but cancer is not just about the best treatment, it is a matter of luck I will say, if you are lucky enough and detected at an early stage of cancer, your chances of survival will be higher. [I will say in this age luck can be replaced with medical awareness at least to some extent]

I had my first personal encounter with cancer almost a decade ago, someone in my family was detected with lumps in her breast. She had to undergo several rounds of mammography (which can be a painful experience), list of tests, and opinion from various doctors. Before finally arriving at the doors of a very senior cancer surgeon, who  said there was nothing to worry, the lumps are benign, but she was put under medication initially for six months and few more months thereafter. Probably what he did not tell us was that he suspected something, could be an initial stage of cancer, which he did not want to reveal.

One word which still stands out in my mind is "Tamoxifan", the medicine she was put on, though we did not speak in open, but there was fear of unknown in our hearts, and I had prayed with all my might. And God has been kind enough, she is living a completely normal life today.

Thereafter whenever I came across anybody who had seen cancer from the close quarters, I insisted on sharing their story. Sharing of right information is very important when it comes to cancer, because people still know very little about cancer and there are many myths shrouding it.

Few years ago I read the book "My journey back to life" by Lance Armstrong, where he has written about his encounter with cancer and how he survived, it is worth a read.To fight cancer medicines do 50 percent of the job, rest 50 percent depends on one's fighting spirit to overcome it and lead a normal life.

Around two years ago I had met and interviewed a 17 year-old-boy, who was suffering from cancer, he was a fighter, he had organised the "Terry Fox run" to raise funds for cancer treatment and raise awareness among people.

My recent encounter with cancer was an year ago, my room mate's mother died of lung cancer, she was perfectly fine till one day she was diagnosed with chest congestion, and after that there was no-looking back. It took less than three months and she perished, she was detected with stage IV cancer and doctors had given up, she was not informed of what she was suffering from. Last year in January I had visited her in the hospital and I had assured her that she would be completely alright, I actually believed that she would be fine, somewhere my heart was telling me that something magical would happen.

Following her death, I had done an article on cancer, spoken to the best of  the surgical oncologists and medical oncologists here. But only a small part of the article was published, someone at higher decision making position had asked me sarcastically "Is it cancer day? people don't read such stories"...I did not fight it out with him, because he is a crackpot, though I wanted to ask him "God forbid, if someone in your family falls victim to cancer, would you wait till the cancer day to begin treatment?"

Anyway, that was that...Like with any other disease, in case of cancer also Prevention is cure, awareness needs to be raised right from the school days among children, not just doctors but any group/ individual interested could meet doctors and arrange awareness camps to widen the horizons of understanding of the malady.

That brings me to Siddhartha Mukherjee' s book The Emperor of Maladies, which  is aptly named because cancer is just an umbrella term, it's heterogeneous in its expression and a common cure is not possible for its different manifestations.  I am yet to finish the book, to say it is well written would be an understatement, he has made medical history sound like the story of  one individual, probably like the mastermind "Hrithik Roshan" in Dhoom-2 who kept eluding the police. Doctors have been trying different form of cures to annihilate the "mastermind", be it surgery, chemotherapy, radiation therapy, a combination of two or may be all three, but in spite of their best efforts the war is far from over.

You are Awesome 2012

Happy New year people, I know this comes a little late. I was busy enjoying the new year and January went by a little too quickly.

Well 2011 was neither good nor bad, though it started on a very bad note, it ended on a good note, and all’s well that ends well. I would say the second half of the year was relatively good and as the months inched towards Christmas they turned better.

And 2012 began on a good note, I have a very good feeling about the year, and generally when I feel strongly about something it comes true. So it has to be a good year!

January brought a whole gamut of things, even before January began I was all excited making travel plans though it was just for a day. Met three close pals after five years and we had some wonderful time together. Till the end we were not sure whether four of us would be able make it considering geographical, professional, and personal constraints. But we pulled it through, together we walked through the memory lane and lived a lifetime in those moments.

Professionally I made a decision which I was holding back for long, and I feel liberated. Though I could see it coming, still I tried my best to rationalize things. And then one day within a fraction of seconds I knew exactly what I wanted from life. Yes, I had to do some explaining stuff to friends and family, but I know I have been very lucky to have a strong supporting family and, some very loving and caring friends.

And by the time I was done with all these things January was over.

Call Me Don

Movie: Don 2

Cast: Shah Rukh Khan, Priyanka Chopra, Boman Irani, Lara Dutta, Om Puri, Kunal Kapoor

Director: Farhan Akhtar

 I am not sure if a movie could be called stylish, but if anything else could be said about Don 2, then it should be called SRK’s style statement. The way Dhoom 2 was overshadowed by Hrithik Roshan, so is the case with Don2.

 Those of you who watched Don 1 and liked it will like Don 2, those who did not like Don1 will surely like Don 2.

The movie begins with a narration in SRK’s voice, he tells you what happened and what is happening in his life that includes a short summary of Don1 and sets the stage for Don 2.

The Don having conquered the Asian drug market is now planning to take over the European market, and this has ruffled too many feathers. Various mafia gangs come together to sketch out a plan to eliminate Don forever, and the trap is laid.

It’s time for Don to make an entry and he makes the grand appearance in the Bollywood style driving his motorboat through a picturesque lagoon. But little did the Don knew that people are vying for his blood, but even if he knew it would not have made any difference. What follows is an action sequence where the Don slaughters the attackers with such agility in a deadlocked situation where even the Superman would have fumbled, welcome to Bollywood! Here the hero has a larger than life persona and has highly developed senses which he uses to his advantage.

Now it’s Roma's (Priyanka Chopra) turn to make an entry, she is working with the Interpol and her aim in life is to put the Don behind the bars. And then there is Om Puri, her mentor, who decides to resign ‘retired hurt’, he has only one regret that in his career of over 33 years, if there was a criminal whom he could not catch hold of, was the Don. With heavy heart he hands over this responsibility to Roma.

But Don being the kind hearted comes and surrenders just few minutes after this conversation as if he was a Christmas gift sent by Santa. While Roma arrests her no one tries to find out what made Don surrender.

Now begins the actual plot of Don 2, Don surrendered so that he could take Vardan (Boman Irani) (his enemy) and flee out of the prison. Vardhan agrees to come along, and they manage to escape, rest of the movie revolves around how Don plots and executes the plan of stealing currency printing plates from a central bank with the help of Vardhan, Aisha(Lara Dutt), and Shameer (Kunal Kapoor).

Performance wise SRK is at his best, Priyanka gets very little space to showcase her work, Lara was convincing in her confined space, Boman Irani and Kunal Kapoor did a fine job of supporting cast, it was Om Puri who was wasted, that role could have been played by anyone.

There are few loopholes but considering it’s a Hindi-masala movie those can be overlooked and coming to the songs the lesser said the better.

Treatment of the story is good (there are enough of twists and turns), editing is crisp, dialogues are catchy, beautiful cinematography, and some reasonably good action sequences make it worth watching.

My favourite dialogue: Don tells Kunal Kapoor, Don’t call me sir, bahut sareef sunai deta hai, call me Don.

I loved the movie, it was complete entertainment!

Life Is Stranger Than Fiction

It is said don’t judge a book by it’s cover, but there are certain books which live upto their cover page…The cover page of  Nine lives I bought had eyes of a Kannur dancer exuding energy wearing a red head gear with silver serpent heads on it, a very intriguing picture.

Photo Credit: Self

The look said it would not let you keep the book down without finishing it, it would stare back at you to remind every single day that the nine chapters based on nine characters needs your attention.

What is fascinating about these characters is they are not fictional, they are about real people just like us, but as you navigate through the chapters the line delineating facts and fiction blur, every chapter leaves you with a collage of images which look stranger than fiction.

I could not continue reading two chapters back to back...I would leave the book for a day before I began a new chapter every time. It felt as if I would be denying every character its due if I moved on to the next immediately.

William Dalrymple talks about nine different characters following different religious path but there is a common thread running through each of these characters, all these characters have immense faith in life irrespective of the path they have chosen for themselves. And somewhere on the way all of them have found their share of happiness.

The author takes you through the travails of a Jain nun, a Kannur dancer, a Devadasi, a Rajasthani epic singer, a Sufi lady, a Buddhist monk, an Idol  maker of Tanjore, a Tantric practitioner , and a Baul singer.

In the Singers of Epic he talks about a Epic Singer Mohan Bhopa and his wife, Batasi…how they used to sing a localised  version of Ramayana, where a local hero replaces Rama…and the belief that on singing it in a particular way “Pabuji” comes to the rescue of the local people.

While a small part of the story is about Mohan, rest of the story revolves around the history and evolution of bhopas-the singers. The detailing and the attention to nuances makes it fascinating.

He has covered the length and breadth of India and has brought to the fore  the stories behind many of those characters whom we know superficially, the story of their lives we never bothered to find out because to us they seemed too trivial. Each of these stories shows a different India, an India caught in a time-wrap, a country where different worlds co-exist side by side, visible worlds which remain invisible.

The finesse with which he intertwines the story of practices and the lives of practitioners leaves you mesmerised and you are simply gripped by the narrative.

You are My Endless Love

It’s been really long I have been working in Bangalore, and I think it’s time I should go back to Hyderabad, that’s where I belong to. But I think that’s not the case with you, you love being a nomad and shifting places. Don’t you ever feel like going back to Hyderabad?

These lines were repeated by many friends who moved from Bangalore and other parts of the country, back to Hyderabad, their home town, after working for few years in those cities.

 All these friends feel my love for Hyderabad is not deep enough, but every time someone said these words to me I was little hurt and asked myself is it that I don’t feel like going back to Hyderabad? Is it that they love Hyderabad more than I love it? Well I don’t know whether they love Hyderabad more than me, because there is no way   ‘love’ can be measured!

I love going to home that’s Hyderabad, but then I liked every other place also where I  stayed over the years. And yes I love living like a wanderer, a new place every two to three years, that’s my idea of life. I would not trade that nomadic spirit inherited from dad for anything or would I, may be, if I could build a beach house on one of those quite and beautiful beaches may be then.

Hyderabad has changed so much from the time first I stepped into the city as a ten-year-old, that these days when I go home, sometimes I look around in awe and other times a little heart broken when I find those old landmarks, the Jalebi wala or the potter missing from the spot where they used to be once.

But would you stop loving a dear one just because he/ she got a new haircut or put on few pounds, at least I would not although I might make little fuss and pass a few comments showing my approval or dislike…but the love remains intact.

Recently an oldie senior at work was sharing his travel experiences and when he came to know that I am from Hyderabad, he spoke at length about the Hyderabad airport. But every time he ended a sentence he would compare it with Bangalore, yes that’s his adopted city and I could see the love in his eyes.

“The Hyderabad airport is one the best airports in the country and it looked fabulous,” he said…aha! my heart was soaring with pride and my shoulders got broadened a little, he was praising ‘my endless love’, how could I not feel elated. And then he said but Hyderabad is such an ugly city, the route to the airport looks so dirty, those ugly looking monstrous buildings on the way. Bangalore is such a beautiful city, Hyderabad stands no-where in comparison.

My was started boiling, but I bit my tongue, reined my anger, and said in the most gentle voices, there are pockets in every city which look untidy, but that does not mean the whole city should be branded as ugly, every city has its own charm. He nodded his head although he did not seem to agree with me completely, but he did not speak on it anymore, whether he understood the damage done or not, which I doubt because I could still see the rose tinted glasses over his eyes from the way he continued talking about Bangalore.

I could never stand anyone calling 'my endless love' names, if anyone has the right to criticize her, its me PERIOD. And to all those who think I do not love Hyderabad, I don’t have to hold placards and walk the road to demonstrate my love, because I know I love Hyderabad as much as my Hyderabadi friends love her, if not  more. There is another set of friends (not from Hyderabad), who keep teasing me, “Ask her she would say the best place on earth is Hyderabad and it has everything wrapped up in gold.” Yes consciously or unconsciously I always carry Hyderabad with me, for me everything I see or do, I happen to compare them with things in Hyderabad just like the oldie senior who compared things with Bangalore, but I respect others’ right to love also.