Katrina Item girl and pseude mall clones

So the pure awesomeness has stuck with dark knight, kung fu panda, hancock and jaane tu all in a matter of a couple of weeks. It feels so great being born in the time a movie has gone upto IMDB # 1. The joker has redefined what a villian looks like, walks like, and does (Its not actually this godly, but I like to exagerrate a bit when it comes to this).

So, the agenda of discussion was, how many girls today have gone totally free, wild and excited about the same. Blogging about their lives, nightouts, boyfriends and binges. Describing themselves as living lives similar to SATC chicks. Being proud to be cute, snuggly, and girly. Part of http://www.ihatemen.com/ and writing those nonsensical lyrics, which are just a produce of some fancy and colloquially pseude literate words which makes the contemporary crowd go yayy, with a piece of rhyme and bitter cool hatred and suffering. Its like living 'Tere Bin' all their life. The Aatif Aslam Generation, if one must say. So many are cool, fall in love, break their hearts over a break up, blog, and are secretly being a wonderful person trying to wait for that one guy who will be the most humourous, charming prince who will fulfill their destinies. So, as I was reading this blog 'the compulsive confessor', just got a feeling of a tinge of SATC, shobha de and a friends voice combined. Well, thats too much interpration too.

Life was working well in hostel, and when I turn up home after a trip, my fone, hard disc and RAM have stopped working. A small wtf. Then I remember the work I had with these things, and how I have been bogged down by the almighty himself in doing my things with ease and no pressure mounting situations. A smile reappears on my face, and I go to a cyber cafe resuming my work. Its not that bad still.

Being cool, trying to discover new passions, working on daily reading habits, playing cricket/squash, looking decent, getting appointments with health clinics. Life at IIT was single agenda, just scrape though exams and enjoy whatever comes along. Sudden transition to home has changed how everyday passes by. Every meal has become important, every sitcom, every injury, every friend, every phone call, every headline, every movie, every problem has a significance (Salu SRK is discussed with gusto) suddenly. That fuck-it-no-matter-what-happens-I-continue-with-myself attitude disappears. Met this new person this weekend, and realised how long it had been since I met new people in my life. Really long. I had almost forgotten how to bond or even get along with a new person. It's nice.

Factory production. Guys used to be the same, jeans t shirts. Go to a mall, and it feels there are clones of women walking. Everyone has the same top, same necklace, same hair, walking in the same manner just the companions are different. Its like the Zee add of Youngistan. Zamana badal gaya hain. Everyone is smart all around. (And yeah, my lookout is limited to this, can't appreciate the variance in the different type of jackets and wrinklets or sandals/slippers, or even the difference in the lengths of 3/4ths or 4/5ths, for there exist our own shriyas who are in and can remarkably make a costume look like the ones in gossip girl)

Btw, the penetration of fashion sense into indian public has been very speedy. Everyone has a cool quotient. Even a person like me, who is the least conscious of what he is wearing, thinks twice before putting on a t shirt of a particular colour. And yeah, I suck at being fashionable, or what many people call being decently dressed.

Whichever channel you look, you have a katrina dance number playing. Sorry, Item number. She has infiltrated every movie possible. Sometimes I get tired of seeing her! And thats the last thing that should be happening with someone like Katrina!

Addiction of item numbers, cool flashy sets, rap music, cool tops and skirts, tight jeans and necklaces, cleavages and belly button rings, multi cellfones and break up songs, infidelity and experimenting with sexuality, football fan following and F1 fury, nightlife and freedom to follow dreams, its a completely different generation this one. Surely something very radical is in line in the next 10 years in India!

Dollar the great

Let us first realize how big the dollar parity is. How much a dollar is worth. How inflation is dependent. How equilibrium is far from existing.

Let us take some figures for eg.
One dollar exchange rate = 40.
Purchasing power parity: 1:5, i.e. you can spend 5 times in India with as much money as in the US.

How should this be possible? Shouldn't labour be worth the same? Shouldn't a chocobar equal to one chocobar and not five in india?
Some countries develop, some don't, some at a faster rate. So inflations are different in every country. Exchange rates drop, rise. Parities change. But who started the exchange rate? Is it ruled by demand and supply alone? More countries believing in the US, and thus buyin more US dolllars so its worth increases? A faster path to production, industrialization and smarter tactics? You obviously can't just increase minting money, you have to create moneys worth, real money. Sell. Produce. Export. SO did these countries, the US, australia, NZ start earlier and got ahead in the race? Do the unemployment rate, trade balances, interest rates affect the dollar weakness? Yes, they do. So are we saying, we started out late, and hence are behing the US, and now until the US screws up, we are not going to beat them? Or NZ for that matter?

Secondly, its unfair for a global citizen to be living lives on parity. Parity should be one, such should be things. Third world, first world. Reaping benefits for a few smart tactics of a few ancestors in a few countries.

And this power is so great, that it can move Manmohan to sign a deal, or governments can fall on the orders of a US national decision. The pressure of the World bank, IMF, UN, and the G8, is too artificial but humongous enough to be gone against by anyone. Someone like Che or Osama or Sadam are upto it. Putting a goverment at stake in order to let some businessmen sell you uranium, when the only stake a hand is some thousand megawattt power. Sounds very goody goody and problem solver, but do those billions of dollars of dollars solve the problem of electricity? Aren't we self-sufficient or even smarted to buy it cheaper from someone else?
Are we doubting Indian scientists for developing the technologies for the same that we need some capitalist to sell us the same? We export everything under the sun in thousands of cruises and planes, and we get a plane of uranium in return, and it equals out all trade balances with a country. Wtf. Economic disparity and human worth are proportional in this world. Economic disparity is due to the production and advancement, while human worth is due to the exchange rate. Now, is it true that, if I want to steal some money, I better get a passport and steal in the UK and return home to become a millionaire!

The injustice in this world very well disguised by the industrialization. I will add to this post soon as I keep on searching on facts.

30 kms away..

Fear of the unknown. Uncertainty. Numbness. Anger. Restlessness. Helplessness. Emotional Paralysis.
The night the news hit the TV, we were a little scared, (me and my bro who had just reached home, for our parents who were traveling in a train from dadar to malad. On calling them up and reassuing they were ok, we continued to form our analysis (rather the forced analysis of the tv channels) about the possible gangwar going in south bombay. Hinting about 10 of my friends to reach home asap, i slept being optimistic that the situation will be good by the morning, ending with sorrow.
Morning saw news flashing about the apex officers being killed, and extent of the operation, and rumours of JW, borivali, and goregaon firings. Office was called off. Curew in South Bombay.
Then went on the hours of news watching. Trying to comprehend the extent of damage, the reasons of the act, affirmations of optimism and hope that it will get over soon, and the country cannot be held ransom by a couple of dozen of obsessed people.
Then was proven wrong by 10 hours of news.

Being a Mumbaikar, the amount of hope, dare devilry which I possess, I thought was unmatchable. Bomb Blasts were followed by mourn and carrying on our tasks taking risks of another blast within the vicinity, based on blind faith on the city, on its police, on its people, on myself.
Not this time.
I was actually SCARED. Very scared. Of uncertainty. Of who will finally win.
The certainty that Bombay will come over them soon had died. There was a probability that they might go free and create havoc. Kill more. Kill Me.

I was actually scared of going out for a cigarette. What if Something happened? Was I sure? Nope.

Will I ever be able to Drink at Leopolds with the same Laughter and Revelry? Will we be young forever? Will we trust a passer by on his words when he says, its safe to roam around in Bombay at night? During the day? Traveling in a train? Sneaking into Taj just to checkout the chick who went in mini?

the chat i had with a friend,
"The blast, even the first time it was the same it was due to the certainty that its over as in ho gaya blast ab nahi hoga, this is like an ongoing thing, its still not over, might be over 40 hours now. I know i cant go to churchgate right now
I CANT
thats the scariest part
somebody might be still hiding in some other building other than those reported in the media"
Was full of fear at around 4 p.m. when I was at home, partially because my brother was watching the broadcast the whole time, my father was making theories for the act, and I was trying to study for the CFA , due next Sunday. Also, at the back of my mind was that my exam centre is Bankok, Thailand and the airport there is closed down by protestors. It was like someboedy was terrorising my life.

With noone to express my thoughts, I thought I would call some of my friends and share my feelings. Called some people and released my insecurities, and felt better. Went for a smoke, came back tried to study but to no avail. My mind was full of quickly forwarding non answered questions. Could this be happening for real? Could such a thing happen to Bombay? My Bombay?
The bombay I was so proud of. The Bombay whose Vadapav and Cutting I missed when I was in Germany. The Bombay where we considered noone can touch the 'Town'. That is a haven for big people. For wealthy people. For people with opinions. With Freedom. With the Culture of Bombay. The Southies. The Obviously Superior people. The People who controlled us. Us, who ran Bombay. But were still the lower strata. The Bombay of Monuments. THe Bombay of Irish Cafes. The Bombay of Coolest, laid back places to Drink. The Fort. The book Sellors. The Marine Drives. The High rises. The epitome of romance. The epitome of destination for a hangout. Away from all the madness in the suburbs. The walks around the JJ Flyover. The getting drowned in the rain at Chowpaty. Mocha, Fountain Sizzlers, Xaviers, Navy Nagar, the TIFR, Sterling, gateway and the Taj. The Bombay I used to love. The Bombay I will love after 7 days. The Bombay which I will sympathize now. The Bombay which I want to save. The Bombay which I want to strengthen even more. The bombay which has lived through so much. The Pride which comes along, the genuine affection which arises out of such feelings, such terrifying incidents is nowhere to be seen. No two people will ever share the same feeling about a city, other than in Bombay. Its sheer love.

But now, am scared. I think about my next move. Am not that bindaas guy whos hanging by the pole in a train, trusting the person next to me, who will pull me over if I'm about to fall off.

I wake up at 6, study for a couple of hours, avoiding TV, have a cup of tea. Go towards switching on the TV, Parying for a complete success and an overall finish to the whole episode, when I see the encounter has started.
I go to my room, look out. Look at the empty streets. Its a Thursday Morning. Its Sunder Nagar. Malad. Thirty Kms away from Colaba. And I feel the disgust. The Sickness. The whole stench shoots up my head, my face becomes pitch red and I become fuming red. Am Full of anger and hit my hand in the window. Angry. A tear flows out. The feeling of helplessness combined with restlessness, someone else controlling my life is killing me to the core, makes the flow stronger. A million screams are trapped in me, as I try to control myself to avoid a conversation at home. My Mom is sleeping on the next bed. I gush myself onto a pillow, let it soak the wetness.

Just to try to overcome this feeling, I try getting up, get ready, and convince my parents that its necessay for me to move out of home, not because I can't afford a holiday, but I can't afford this feeling.

I get out, being paranoid about the rickshaw am sitting in, reach office and hear more humours of shootouts in VT. Networks have been jammed. It was a rumour. TV channels are damned.

What next? Will the people arise? Be less paranoid? Be the firm thinkers they used to be? Be the ones with the most fighting spirit? Be the ones with the never say die attitude? The Unbreakable, the city that never stops, has it stopped? Has it slept? Finally?

The Psyche of these people and the acts can be, unfortunately very well explained and the minds of these people, with all the agression and possibe strategists, is but unavoidable. Circumstances. Fate. Of Bombay. And the people here.

I still fear to imagine the plight of a person returning from a late shift, from VT Station, being shot at. 'What harm have I done to an Iraqi? I have 3 children waiting to see my face. Waiting to eat dinner with me. How and who will tell them that somebody killed me for this reason? Will they understand, ever? Wont they take part in the same battle just to take out their frustration?' This continues to depress me.

Though in times of distress, I still have a ray of light in my mind, which brings a gleam, to ask people not to panic, to ask myself to hold myself together, to just imagine that this is one those rare things that happen, and we have to learn from it and move on. Try to bring things back to normal.
Go to Leopolds and drink the same drought beer with jassi and vibhu, and enjoy with the same innnocent laughter. Roam around in trains, looking at the cricket being played in the Police gymkhana grounds at marine lines, taking my girlfriend for a romantic evening, buying books at fort, taking pics of the awesome buildings, and visit the freshness and heritage of the South.

Right now, 40 hours later, Taj is being bombed again from the inside by a lone terrorist hiding with the hostages. News os around 10 terrorists on the run in Bombay untraced are being heard.

There is no end. There is no beginning anymore. It has begun. We need a White Knight. Its become so similar to the Dark Knight, Die Hard. Baazi.

The impacts of US/UK citizens to be afraid to come to India, has been good. But for how long? Does this effect last forever? Don't people understand that this is temporary, they will have to come here, now and then for business and otherwise? Can't this happen anywhere else too?
Bombay, was not that easy a target for all this? This could have happened to any developing nation. Not US or UK of course. They are too strong to be tackled like this by those misfits.

I think this was a long time after which I cried out of Fear. Such a thing happened to me in Germany, when I landed and went to a train station to catch a train to a city. And I missed the train. And there was noone to talk to English, and I was with my full luggage, and really lonely. Felt scared. Called home after reaching an ISD.

In times like these, we learn to live again, in the City of God. Les hope I can channelize all these feelings into anger and live with it forever reminding me to not succumb at the terror they tried to inculcate in me, lest their purpose is fulfilled. Will have to sometime get rid of the paranoia and keep the disgust going, keeping the same lifestyle.
Lets Hope.

So, Where Shall We Go?

हमको मन की शक्ति देना मनविजय करें ,
दूसरो की जय से पहले ख़ुद को जय करें ।।

Discussions among friends about joining a ngo, or doing something for somebody except ourselves, again instigated within me a sense of guilt and shame, alongwith the confusion and plethora of choices that my ignorance bestows me with.

Firstly, what principle should one follow? Greater good of the society. Or good for an individual.
Work with a local organization with greater impact on 2 children for 10 years, or work towards 'upliftment' of 1000 slum dwellers? Be a part of an NGO, which I know is minting money and paying huge salaries out of the donations received, or be a part of a voluntary org where there is no funding, no salary?

Listen to the speech made my Mr. Manmohan Singh, its like a poem. Sung with great rhythm, melody and hope. The optimism in his voice is enchanting. Then come the ideas I have been developing. Remember Deccan Airways? Rs. 300 a ticket? Why did they rise to 1000? Now, tribals in maharashtra cannot afford the same. Just because the government needs that 100 % tax on aviation. Nice.

Such incomprehensive and non-complimentary policies will not only harm the nation, but not justify his speech. Now, coming to the point of development. Discrimination and Development.
Of whom? Economic Growth, development, social service, infrastructure, standard of living, basic education, social awareness, healthcare, sports, blah blah. Ring a bell?

Abhinav Bindra. Doing the nation proud. Why the showers of laudes and cash prizes on him? Isn't he already a filthy rich man with assets of around 200 crores? Is it such a great achievement? The sportsmanship, yes. The spirit, no. I find the spirit better in my housemaid, who works at my house for Rs. 400 per month, and sends her kids for monthly private schooling of Rs. 1000, + tutions worth Rs. 300. Imagining the plight?

अमीरी है सितारा गरीबी है एक आँसू ...

Externalizing resources, distributing electricity for exorbitant prices (Reliance prices per watt are amazingly and foolishly high), Jammu Kashmir foolishness, the naxalite furore, Rang de basanti emotion, Hakeekat?

Policy making, being a volunteer, be an activist, be part of the local political organization, start a small school, be a social entrepreneur, start a company adding value to millions, be a social consultant.

What is the optimal path?
With a noble cause, can power still remain pure?
Are means to reach an end justifiable?
Yuva, RDB, Lakshya, Haasil, Shool, Satya, Munnabhai - Give some pointers.

So, a recent survey somewhere enlightened me: For every Rupee used for implementing a social project, Rs. 25000 is spent for getting that money, paying salaries to the officials involved, infrastructure etc. Horrendous?

I once visited Dr. Apte's house in a village near Solapur to see his self-sustainable house, with a farm growing everything to eat, a life without electricity, everything natural. (Dr. Apte is an agriculturist, worked for the government for 20 years) We stayed there for 2 days one night. We were around 20 of us from different parts of Maharashtra, forming a group called Nirmaan. Mr. Apte was a very well educated man and a man of words. He explained every little detail of his Gandhian following and the injustice to the farmers due to the price controls, while inflation kept on growing, which an urban person can never understand on his own. There was an AIR journalist there, from Bombay, who was talking to us and discussing the same. So, when I explained my views about things, IITB, resources and my future plans, politics etc, she had one question to ask: Why have iitians come here to this village? I was convinced to give her a piece of my mind, but then decided to control. I still regret that moment. Why can't I know more about India's villages?

Intellectual discussions, Planning, projecting, and estimating the effects of a particular thing on a particular case. Required. Though also required is the further implementation. Patience. Dare Devilry. Men and women of Courage. Or be strong enough, powerful enough and rich enough to have an impact. This seems so hypocritic.

Or continue what we are doing, pay taxes, be a good citizen, attend polls, attend the society meetings, maintain a sense of decorum, be a just and honest citizen with a clean heart.

The parliamentary vote session produced such a sense of shame, that we as a people are such. No, they are not, all of us. They reflect us. Considering the state as a separate entity than us. State and Society are not different. State is not for society. alone. State is by society. For society, together with society. More than 2 crore employees work in the government (state and central). The others too have a duty.

Suddenly a humming tone:

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;

Where words come out from the depth of truth;

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;

Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action - - Into that heaven of freedom,
My Father, let my country awake

-गीतांजलि

A beautiful dream, lush green grass and azure skies with laughter flowing in the wind, happiness is just the way of life, everyone smiling at the moment, and a tear in my eye being caught by a butterfly. Me-topia.

Luxury of saying all this comes from the fact that I can still type and earn a good enough amount. The day my house be destroyed in floods, or I become a victim of a bomb blast, no longer will I be able to discuss, or even pity anyone similar. Will Regret my misunderstanding of Guilt.