Causes and Reasons

If ever there was a day
when the morning never rose
with a smile wrapped in the warm quilt
I couldn't have made it here.
We made up a tale for them
they never had it all
and made up a tale themselves
and had a cup of reasons and causes.
Why should we paint the door
and why not the floor
after all they both are a part of our lives
and before we paint the wall
shouldn't we paint the floor
as if it were a part of our life.

The Lower Bazaar

When the streets they shine under borrowed light and the people brush against each other very few souls can claim to be immune from the general excitement which lingers in the narrow alleys of The Lower Bazaar.

I don't venture out there quite often but when I do I can't hold myself back from marvelling at the insane cacophony produced by the crowd which in spite of itself doesn't actually hurt your ears . The same cannot be said about the noise which those machines generate , even when they are the sole occupants of premises where they are placed .

Evenings are cool at this time of the year and hence one can see people all dressed up in their heaviest attires which to be sure may eventually turn out to be superfluous items given the fact that the human body itself emanates a good deal of heat . We can then see young children pestering their hapless parents to allow them to remove those heavy woollen jackets which were placed upon their slender shoulders by the concerned mothers before leaving for the Lower Bazaar.


One often gets confused in the Bazaar . So many bodies and so many faces . Some look familiar while the others actually are . In small towns all faces are familiar. Everybody is an acquaintance . It's really nice to see smiles waiting to break out on their faces just as they come near you. My hands are always cold , thus it's a nice feeling to shake hands with warm ones .


The Bazaar is located on the slope of the hill and as you go higher you come closer to the Ridge. It's a kind of social elevation too. The narrow alleys soon give way to broad roads , but what remains the same is the conspicuous presence of human population .


The wind up here is a lot cooler and now those jackets and coats reacquire their lost dignity and from being otiose items hindering our movement become our second skin. I feel a little sorry for the mendicants who have no choice but to wrap themselves up with those sorry looking rags which till quite recently were used by the more privileged classes to protect inanimate objects from the chilling cold.


When the time comes to return back home I feel like breathing in the cold mountain air and taking in the sights and sounds of the market and the Bazaar. My stride is leisurely but I can sense that it is also brisk , even as the the warm breath from my mouth rises above in the cold air and disappears without a trace.

Diwali shopping and the Perils involved

This small article is meant for those who are keen on protecting themselves from unprovoked attacks from fellow shoppers and their kids.

When a crowd gathers in a shop which is almost half the size of an Industrialist's drawing room, what follows is a belligerent spectacle where the consumers who look quite innocuous , suddenly turn into ferocious creatures competing with each other to gain the upper hand in the on going tussle to grab whatever comes their way while they swiftly and to some extent indecently scamper past the fully loaded shelves of the glittering store.

Dexterity and adroitness are really tested in such establishments when a man's body shape determines how easily he can maneuver past his peers to reach the gift hamper placed on the last visible shelf ( which to be sure was placed there for allowing people to display acts of gallantry).

Another interesting feature of these stores is the presence of an outrageously large number of salesmen who instead of helping out the consumers act as impediments when it comes to browsing through the shop and discovering the prices of various goods.

It is in such stores and on such occasions that male-female bonding is seen to reach it's highest point as young men devoid of any intimate female presence in their lives try to deliberately place themselves near attractive wenches so that the latter may have the opportunity to brush against their bodies and send down some delectable shivers. It is in such stores that certain acts which would have been called uncouth behaviour in the non-festive season are suddenly branded as the signs of efficiency and alacrity ( and include snatching the chocolate box before the old lady can lay her hands on it, breaking the billing queue by sneaking in while others are fighting for space, shouting the lungs out to hasten the departure of the person waiting to get his gifts wrapped, pushing and sometimes pulling others and then uttering an accented sorry etc.).

Anyone who is new to this country would mistake such stores to be charitable institutions distributing free goods and all those who have gathered there as well dressed beggars. Such is the anxiety and desperation to barge into the stores and buy as many things as possible.

The store which a month ago would have been a picture of lazy elegance now gets transformed into a wall hanging depicting The American Civil War (sans Vivien Leigh) . The metal detecting machine which used to resonate with the beep occasionally before the festive season now wears an exhausted expression and some say has stopped giving any sound at all owing to the presence of more metal than in the coffers of the Oil Barons from middle east.

If patience is a virtue and bargaining our need, you just have to look around yourself to confirm the fact. In spite of the mad rush and apparent impatience , people actually are the human personification of patience. Notwithstanding the fact that their child is being pushed around by men 3 times his height or that their clothes are undergoing barbaric torture at the hands of the unruly mob of consumers, they still have the patience to bargain and ask for discounts . Even while hundreds of people are waiting to get but a glimpse of the displayed merchandise which currently is being blocked by their shapely figure, they merrily spend more time than is necessary in finally making a decision as to what to buy and what to just behold, admire and then place back on the shelf (an action is instigated by the price tag ) .

Another danger which lurks around in the precincts of such stores is that of pick pockets and other such damnable characters who often face disappointment due to the excessive expenditures already incurred by their potential victims at the behest of their wives.

In such commotion and conundrum we can always spot a couple of fellows who have decided upon dispensing with the last part of their business commitments before leaving the store and hence are scene shouting at the top of their voices into their mobile handsets and also staring at other loudmouthed individuals as if to remind these others of their impertinence and ill mannerisms.

Consumerism has had had one very important effect upon the psyche of the people. Unlike the ancient times of chronic impoverishment when every purchase elicited a rather apologetic and almost repentant reaction from the consumer , nowadays the happiness which marks the faces of the victorious lot is enviable. How happy and cheerful their faces look, their sense of achievement may only be paralleled by Archimedes' uncensored elation at having discovered the first principles of buoyancy.

The entire street and nowadays malls ( for those who frequent those establishments) where such stores are located looks a lot like Noah's ark where a variety of each species has been warmly accommodated.

Festivals truly remind us of who we actually are, and this I say to honour all those who have become experienced campaigners when it comes to shopping during this season and under such demanding circumstances.

On a Political issue.- please pardon the grammatical errors.

Yesterday I was watching N.D.T.V. 24/7 ( I am sorry I don't have any means to insert the multiplication symbol) . Barkha Dutt was hosting a talk show who's name I deliberately choose to ignore. The hot topic of discussion was whether Mumbai should be called Mumbai or Bombay .......

Yes this show was for real . Being hosted by Barkha Dutt it would originally have been telecast at prime time (although I managed to watch a repeat telecast at 1 in the afternoon).
Now in a city where the mafia is thriving, the local transport system is in tatters, where freak accidents are gaining alarming proportions, the drainage system is pathetic, where Terrorists attacks are an impending danger and have claimed atleast 10,000 lives in the last 20 years ( in the form of attacks and riots) , this issue was the last thing which any conscientious citizen would have expected to see on television.

I sincerely believe that the question discussed in the show is quite important for all the news channels and some political parties . For the news channels it is important because they would have to then change their news reports accordingly , substituting Mumbai for Bombay or vice versa.

As far as the political parties are concerned their obsession with Mumbai shall end with it's importance as the financial capital of the country. I believe the Thackrey clan wouldn't have given a damn for the Mumbai issue had it been just another ordinary Indian town with ordinary citizens and not some rich industrialists or filmstars.

There is one more point I want to make. Maharashtrian identity and culture is not reflected in Mumbai. Mumbai has been , from the time of it's inception a cosmopolitan city...the city's heritage buildings bear testimony to that fact...what from Prince of Wales Museum to The Victoria Terminus.

I have no idea how these petty parties have been able to declare Mumbai as the representative of Maharshtrian identity. There is nothing remotely Maharashtrian about Mumbai. Having stayed for 5 yrs in Pune I can assert this quite confidently. If at all you want to relate any city with Maharashtrian culture I would point to Pune.

How can we call a city intrinsically Maharashtrian when it has never been culturally dominated by the Maharashtrians. The real agenda behind this senseless movement , which tries to cheat us into believing that Maharashtra is Mumbai, is that the power hungry politicians want to control the rich municipality and administrative regime of Mumba,i to fill their own coffers.

I would also like to say something about the Thackrey clan. They to be fair are not a unique family and have no unique agenda. Each state where the local population (historically speaking) is in the danger of being overrun by migrants , has many such self proclaimed protectors. And this has been true from times immemorial. In Maharashtra, this problem has been reduced to Mumbai. The Shiv Sena or the MNS have placed themselves in major urban centres of the state and indulge in hooliganism in the name of what not. Anyone who has heard them speak specially two leaders from these parties , would easily recognize them as petty local goons and lowlives who are thriving because the public in this country is dumber than they are. In fact this holds good for almost the entire breed of politicians.

As far as the congress is concerned I feel it is time that they stopped being hypocrites and came forward with a solid and digestible stand. The NCP is a good for nothing party which ,even for the sake of it ,has no ideology and hence has tacitly admitted that it's only ideology is to promote power grabbing policies.

I am writing this article not as a distant observer governed by bias, but because I have had the privilege of staying in Pune for 5 long years as a student. And hence I had every opportunity to investigate each and every minute feature of this issue.

Apart from the fact that each state and people have their own culture and social temperament (with the exception of the Punjabis who are largehearted and hence accept everyone for what they are) the local residents were as far removed from the MNS or the Shiv Sena as the "Outsiders".
Even if we admit that outstation students were targeted by these goons, it does not mean that the local Puneite was garlanded by them.

What this means is that such parties rake up non existent issues and blow them out of proportions ;to make the matters worse the people in general are waiting to be defrauded by these lowlives.
I would thus appeal to the common man (If there is anyone who can be called so) to be well informed on such issues and take intellectually motivated stands and not follow pricks and thugs under the illusion that they will fight for your rights. No one out there cares for you. To force them to do so, you'll have to thrash them politically as well as physically . Those who claim to be your benefactors are in fact trying to demean your status to further dominate you and control your behaviour. After all, once this ludicrous issue ends, what would inspire you to vote for them?

Please wake up.....this isn't about Maharashtra..it's about Mumbai...! Why not pressurise the state governments to decentralize the economy so that migration is curbed. That ways Mumabi would no longer need MNS and Shiv Sena . Their existence is purely dependent upon Mumbai's unique status of being the financial capital. If this is the attitude then Delhi, the country's political capital should be claimed in equal shares by the Punjabis and The Haryanvis!
Like South Africa we should now have more than one capital . That ways petty provincial politics shall recede to the background and it would also pave way for the eventual overhauling of our useless economic system..by transforming it into a decentralised economy where each region has cities as employment friendly as Mumbai.

On SHAVING

I don't know why I started shaving (or may be I do)
but the fact is that I hate shaving.Every third day when I face the mirror it shows
the emergence of facial hair.I get concerned but do nothing about it.
After a day or two I don't have to look in the mirror to confirm my fears
that a beard has grown in the place of those infant hair because not only can I feel it but also the look from my mother puts to rest any doubts on the issue.
I don't fear it's growth per se but I hate it because it's arrival also brings along the pious moment when I would be coerced into shaving. Normally I shave once a week although many have told me that daily shaving is the way to go the mere thought of picking up the brush on a daily basis to soften the beard and then to wash the blade and use it on your innocent skin.
For me shaving even once in a week is such a cumbersome activity that it
forces me to acquire a rather serious and to some extent irritated countenance
whenever I have to prepare for that ordeal.
Shaving is so unnatural but I don't know why people associate virtue with it.
They feel that those don't who don't shave (I am talking about those who like me don't want either a full beard or a clean shaven face due to the inconveniences posed by both of them) are people of shoddy moral values and of an incorrigible indolent disposition. The fact is both these things especially the latter is true to a great extent but then you can't generalise.
Shaving is a waste of time and resources(both natural and man made) if done periodically. If however it is left to the whims and fancies of the individuals it would lead to the holistic growth of the society as well as the hapless individuals like me who till this point have been at the wrong end of the barrel.

On Female Emancipation

Before I write something let me take some precautions by apologising to the whole creed of die hard feminists whose appetites are fed by inflammatory articles such as this . Feminists are wonderful creatures who have taken upon themselves the onerous task to work for the betterment of their kind (although no one really knows what their kind really is). Most of them the times their arguments commence with female foeticide and ended with females' absolute right to dress whichever way they want to . It is thus quite reluctantly that I have come before the keyboard today , given their well known belligerent and extremely cynical nature.

There are a great many number of N.G.O's working towards female emancipation in this male dominated society but I am quite skeptical when it comes to rating their credibility.

Most of them comprise of the wives of well to do bureaucrats and corporate 1st ladies who need to kill time and consume freebies. All such gatherings are marked by elegance and finesse ....freely flowing beverages and exotic snacks...not to mention the 7 course meals which are served in the best bone china ever manufactured by the enterprise. The nature of these gatherings stands in sharp contrast to the cause for which they have been allegedly convened. For example : A party in Sun n' Sand, Mumbai would be organised to discuss the plight of the destitute. And we'll have Mrs. x seductively sipping on a Hawaiian cocktail while trying to come out with a workable solution for providing clean drinking water for the slum dwellers nearby.

Coming now to the issue of Women's rights...these N.G.O.'s have indeed done remarkable work. All their deliberations are structured keeping in mind the oppressed females of posh localities who feel terribly exploited and oppressed if they are not allowed to have extra marital affairs and sport revealing evening gowns. I sympathise with the male species. Women decorate themselves so that the males should look at them...and when they do those very females feel insecure and in danger of being robbed of their modesty.

All such feminist moves thus originate in the drawing rooms of the elite and are completely exhausted before they can travel beyond the confines of their big mansions. The result is that those who actually need a dose of emancipation don't even come to know of the grand designs which their benefactors and patrons have sketched out sitting in a room 1000 miles away while munching on grapes from Seville and apples from New Zealand.

In class, I often got confused when each and every reference to female emancipation triggered a synchronised sigh and self conscious reaction from my female classmates there. Now the point is that female emancipation is not an issue which concerns those who already are in a super emancipated state .

Female emancipation concerns those who aren't allowed to watch Television and hence can't view those psuedo intellectual debates on feminism. It's about those who don't even know what this feminism is all about.

I shall continue this discourse but write now I need to eat food....

ON Music in general

I confess that I have not earned any degree from Trinity in music but that in no way is something which can legitimately hold me back when it comes to appreciating and talking about life in general and music in particular.

Before we officially launch into the realm of Rock music and start dissecting each and every form it is desirable to get a bird's eye view of the whole concept of music and it's antecedents.

My brain which is fond of instinctive speculation takes me away to the first century of civilization when Human intellect for the first time identified itself. Prior to this our intelligence had an unnoticed existence. By recognizing it's existence we validated it's purpose.

Music, brethren, is an intelligent form of human behaviour( although headbanging may seem to refute this claim)

The ability to identify musical patterns, appreciate them, compose them, perform and lastly enjoy them requires great proportions of sagacity and intellect. But what makes music such a delectable human activity is the fact that unlike other scientific pursuits music can be audaciously experimented with.

A tribesman who derived pleasure by playing on a piece of wood is as great a musician as Mozart in his hey days.

Music is a term so generous that it envisages almost every artistic amusement involving humming and swaying as music short of noise and rioting.

To fully appreciate music two things are necessary: Temperament and Temperance.

By temperament we mean looking upon music for it's own sake. By temperance we mean uncommon secularism when it comes to critically analysing art.

Any art to be fully appreciated requires that the person appreciating it divorces himself from preconceived prejudices, morality and biases.

Unless this is done no art can be properly understood.

A Valley

A small herd of schoolgirls dressed in Pink and white made their way out of the unfenced ground. Marching to the tune of the fife and the Drum whose membrane bore the signs of years of heavy beating and affection. Just a few feet beneath the field was a small stream or rivulet...you may call it whatever you want which didn't seem to be in a hurry and was flowing with a carefree stride. The mountains were looking down upon their wards and their ever watchful gaze placated the concerned mothers of the errant boys who broke the files to scamper past the old school building and into the corn field where stood cute scarecrows which beckoned youth and infancy alike to flock to them.
The beauty of the scene lay not it's simplicity but in it's complexity. Behind all those simple and plain portraits there was a complex maze of contrasting emotions and overtures.

I stepped out of the car to click a snap and ended up clicking a small piece of life all alive and dancing before my eyes.

Valleys are beautiful because they are closer to the earth and nearer to the mountains. There is a sense of calm and serenity which resides there. One can rise up and stoop down all at the same time without actually doing either. The lull which marks the dusk is occasionally broken by a couple of young children who play blissfully in the silence and seclusion of their world.I also saw some girls thursting their beautiful backs on to the pile of fodder and chirping away with a wild excitement in their eyes. An old farmer returning home with a shabby bag clinging on to his muddy shirt. A woman with a sickle in her hand briskly walking on the extreme corner of the road staring inquisitively at the presence of an alien being.

The last leg in Calico museum.

Calico: A plain -woven cotton cloth , normally with a figured pattern on one side.

A tourist: a person who believes it is his moral duty to waste money and time.

A host: a person who believes it his moral duty to help the tourist to do so.

a museum: a place which is never brightly lit and from which no one ever derives any pleasure but never admits to that fact.

Boredom: Something no parent can digest in a child.

Hooliganism: A cousin of partying.

When we entered the house of calico
to begin the last the leg
a thought in all our minds lingered
at our hearts did it peg.

Why should be there museums
which house calico
when many out there
what it means not know.

Why to keep all that cotton
stored up for posterity
when millions on the streets
have nothing to wear or to show.

If Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder
then why does beauty always side with opulence?
Why do we have to go to a museum to appreciate it
when we won't look at the peasant who wears it
when we won't have anything to do with the weaver who weaved it.

We spent 2 hrs in a place where
which taught us the value of human life
which taught us that it counts for nothing
if it can't be displayed in a museum.

Calico Museum -2

The Characters:

A nosy tour guide who for some reason wasn't impressed with us.

The three of us and our unbridled enthusiasm.

A group of six elderly ladies who knew something about the art of embroidery and a bit too much about the art of conversing ceaselessly and unabashedly.

A foreign tourist accompanied by a local translator.

A couple of foreign origin...but I could not ascertain their nationality.

A middle aged woman and her son( I presumed)

The staff of the museum , who's duty was to dissuade us visitors from touching and going too close to the specimens and to do that were trained to utter the following words with immaculate precision and infallible effect : "Please Don't Touch" (it took everybody full 5 minutes to understand the meaning of these words , because of our underdeveloped hearing abilities and the staffs' overdeveloped vocal powers)

The tour started with a brisk walk to the main building which was to be our adopted home for the next hour and which housed some magnificent textile works with numerous variations of embroidered silk,cotton and other such materials. Our guide was a brisk walker who rarely looked back while travelling from one precipice to another and this the old women of our group realised pretty soon, much to their chagrin. When finally we all had assembled outside the building , she gave a small and cold little speech, although I could hear both my friends chuckling over something which nobody else found funny, which was of course the absence of any eatery in the museum's vicinity ; after all 2hrs inside a museum can be quite exhausting.
Nevertheless we all proceeded to begin the tour and soon were surrounded on all sides by brilliantly crafted materials which helped us to smother the hunger pangs which had already begun banging violently inside our young and hungry stomachs.

" On the left is a palanquin which the queen used used to travel from one fort to another and which is covered with a rich material and embroidered silk, which may give you asll a fair idea as to what exactly was the idea of opulence in those times....."
"To your right is a collection of sarees and other garments from orrisa , with double lining, *****frill work, this and that and what not"
For about 30 minutes all of us (except for the old ladies who turned out to be great connoisseurs of such things) tries to pretend that we really were enjoying the tour and relishing each and every moment . But soon came the time when I for on could no longer take in the any more textiles for the maximum limit to which I can be exposed to all such dress materials is 30 minutes at a stretch (that too when I am shopping with my mother or other such close relations who can force me to give them company). Uneasiness is an infectious thing and soon all of us started rushing through the museum while sweating profuse;y and my Gujarati friend also began mouthing certain unmentionable obscenities. The staff who was earlier constantly on the prowl to catch one of us going near the glass cases and exposed linen now was wondrously watching everybody's exasperated faces waiting for the tour to get over.
After an hour had elapsed the tour guide in her cold and calculated expression announced that after 5 minutes the next leg of the tour would commence. Anybody who wished to leave the tour because of certain pressing engagements could do it there and then for once we entered building no. 2 , it would be like entering a labyrinth and there would be just one way out. No sooner had she uttered these words than the foreign couple pleaded forgiveness for that suddenly remembered that they had a train to catch in about 40 minutes and before that they a had a couple or more things to do. I can't be certain but when the couple was taking leave I caught a glimpse of the lady's shoulder bag out of which was protruding a train ticket which revealed to me that the couple were to board that train not until next week . Why had they lied? why did they forego such a great opportunity? I never understood this then nor will be able to understand this ever. Our audacity abandoned us as we all marched towards the next leg of the tour when suddenly the white chick almost fainted. Oh pardon me I should abstain from using such derogatory words for a female. She almost fainted because of the stifling heat, claustrophobic corridors and the constant blabber which ricocheted of the carpeted walls of the museum.

A recreational excursion to the calico museum-1

The following article has not been modified , altered or censored to suit any audience, to fit any screen or go down well with any honcho.
In the month of July when the whole human race screams for some reprieve from the scorching heat , did a fellow reach Ahmedabad to get a feel of the city, quite oblivious of the fact that the sun over that part of the country is usually brighter and stronger than most parts of the country.
I dropped in at the 11th hour just to give him company and protect him from his own eccentric traits. We were to be housed by a friend whose name needs no introduction(especially if you have been to any eating joints in and around the western region of the country).
So the three of us were to explore the city from a tourist's perspective in weather as hot as hell, but that doesn't matter. Weather hardly matters in India...or at least this what our movies lead us to believe- in a single scene the villain can be seen wearing a tweed, while the actress is dressed in a two-piece swimsuit, the hero sports a leather jacket, even as the henchmen can be seen flaunting outrageously well matched Dick Tracy attires.
Anyways....the point was to impress upon the reader the fact that weather in India is hardly ever the deciding factor.
Our Gujarati friend, a decent fellow. A good host . His obsession with potatoes notwithstanding. WE three explored the city to our heart's content. Which means that each and every excursion was plotted in such a way that either on our way to the place or on our way back we would have the privilege of having potato rich , deep fried snacks and eatables.
On about the third day he mooted the idea of visiting the calico textile museum. Since it involved no potato centric plans, we both became indecently excited about the thing and finally after a he made a few calls, we arranged for ourselves three secure places in the daily guided tour which started at about 10:30 in the morning and lasted for about 2 hrs. The duration of the tour made us all a little apprehensive . What the hell, our normal college day lasted for 3 hrs. But we all mustered some courage and this in no way was not affected by the praises which one of our classmates and who was quite close to the gujju, had showered upon the entire thing. So we all hopped into his mother's car and made our way through the giant door which hid behind itself the WORLD FAMOUS CALICO TEXTILE MUSEUM.

Can't travel by that class

Hey mister, can ya tell me the time?
It's about time .
What do you mean?
Shut up and watch.

The train was supposed to cross that stretch in less than a second. But someone had been quite cagey and had commenced some shoddy repair work along the tracks. So no sooner did the train pass than the small motley crew of them rapscallions showered stones and other solid missiles upon the Indian locomotive.
The occasion was Monsieur Gandhi's debut journey in an ordinary class after his mother had declared that minimalism would have to be the mantra . A fellow called Tharoor had raised valid objections about all this (after all it was not for nothing that he had joined politics), but Madame can never be convinced otherwise, especially when it comes to cost reducing measures.

As far as the mob which pelted those stones is concerned, there are many theories flying in the wind, as to who actually was in the mob.

One theory says it was a mob of some B.J.P. backed hooligans aided by the venerable Akalis.
Another one says that it was nobody but the congress workers themselves who wanted to dissuade the party high command from taking such dangerous and inconvenient decisions again.
Yet another one is making rounds which plants at least one representative from each political party into the mob, for cessation of travel by air and business class or by private jets is a matter of universal political concern, cutting across those flimsy party lines.
My father has contributed to this pleiad by saying that that mob was actually a group of high ranking bureaucrats and hoteliers and owners of all those airlines who were quick enough to judge the repercussions of such a policy.

Well whoever may have been in that mob, I am happy to see that there is somebody out there who still cares for the general public.
Having travelled by Indian railways I can say that any such move whereby these Politicians would have to travel by the ordinary class is a very deadly weapon waiting to be unleashed upon us. After all how can you expect to get confirmed tickets in the already choked system when Mantri ji and his train of 2345678901 bureaucrats + 908765432123456677 security guards would have to be accommodated. God Forbid, had this journey been incident free it would have spelt doom for all of us who are already used to getting 5 tickets reserved for a single day's journey, that at least one may get confirmed by that date.

So divine intervention has saved the ordinary citizens of this country from unbound misery. I am really grateful to all those hooligans who displayed civilized behaviour by pelting those stones and what not on the already dilapidated body of the train.

Since none of these leaders would be asked to pay for the journey, the railways shall also lose out on quite a sum and may be all the good work done by Lalu ji to create an attractive balance sheet would be for nothing.

So in public interest it is my appeal to all of you sitting smugly in your homes to step out on the roads with stones in your hands and a placard which reads " No second class for Third grade persons" If you are up to it, I would even ask you to spit at notion of such a policy and stone it to death, after all we are cultured people who know all about some decent ways to protest, the result of being a 3000 year old civilization which thrives on non-violence.

The controversial nobodys of our world.

A lacklustre performance, a mundane life, a less than ordinary career . And guess what? all it takes is a dumb controversy to reverse their fortune.
I can count umpteen actors , leaders, writers(who were after fame), artists(you can't call them that now) and politicians....who have frequently resorted to this time tested method of gaining immortality. These low lives never did anything substantial for either their organisation/profession/art or for the world in general. When they realised this, they panicked....they panicked and in desperation reached out for their brethren to help them. They just couldn't bear the thought of being a nobody. It is another thing that simple nobodys have done unbelievable things for the world, but these " I won't be a nobody" types have done nothing constructive.

All these accusations and retorts that fly around during such controversies are quite irritating. These morons believe that we all our cactus jacks just whiling away our time so they can take us for a cheap ride into dreamland. Let us take the case of Mr. Jaswant Singh and his wretched and worthless book. Now , had this controversy not arisen he would have not been able to convince even his humbug secretary to pick up the book and read a page. And then the dream of seeing millions flocking to the local bookstore to get their copy of that crap, would have turned to dust. So Mr. Singh goes to the party office and says " Mr. party president , I have had a rather low profile career; almost no significant achievements, ya , may be some infamous episodes,but then even there I was overshadowed by that old prick sitting next to you and smiling. In spite of all this i.e. my lowly career and all that, I have served the party for a good three or four decades. So as a retirement gift I want something from you guys that would act as my retirement fund and ensure that I a don't retire as a nobody ."
The partymen get emotional and give in to his last wish as a fellow partisan. And suddenly The Mr. Who? turns into the Mr. Oh He! A book whose real worth is perhaps equal to the cost of the printing becomes a bestseller in waiting. Every citizen on both sides of the border shall now rush to the local bookstore or seller to get his copy. He'll jump to the controversial pages and satisfy his curiosity. Or better still he'll swallow nonsense from those wonderful news channels, and just keep the book on his bookshelf to show that he was around when all that happened.
Let me just wander away to Ms. Shilpa Shetty's life and times. A disastrous career, fading fortune, fading youth......So she raises a monstrous amount of money , goes to the Office of The Show we call Big Brother and stuffs the cash down the producer's throat and may be even uses her feminine features to drown the fellow, and ends up securing for herself a "win" which would revive her life. As if this was not enough , she bestows favors upon a Gearbox and seduces him to kiss her and then raises hue and cry . Oh My Good God! is this chick for real! I mean can't she even pretend that she has some honour?
So the moral of the story is that no controversy is actually a controversy but another fake reality show. I am sure that all the actors and players get their share of profits .

The biggest player is of course the media which guides these low lives through the entire process, giving valuable suggestions as to when to make which move . Rajdeep Sardesai" I think if you release the book in early august it would highly beneficial, that ways we can capitalise on the monsoon session".
So the stage is set. All these people have drawn a plan and we are the scapegoats. It is time fellows, to stand up and thrash the first reporter you see who tries to talk about celebrities and not the drainage system. Step out and manhandle those snobbish celebrities , who are nothing but glamorised buffoons . Choke that bloody politician to death who can't stop blabbering about the past and the future. Ransack that leader who has nothing to offer you but some silly figures that represent a fictional economic growth. Hack the industrialist to pieces who wants more than your entire wealth combined. Kill the King who knows nothing about the price of wheat in the market. Burn those consumer goods store where you are tricked into spending your income on goods you don't actually need. We don't need these controversies. WE don't want to see Shahrukh Khan or Salman Khans' rotten life statements. I don't want to why that **** Kareena broke up with some weirdo. I don't give a damn . Stop these controversies, admit it.....that you never did anybody no good! Just leave me alone!!!!!!!!!

What to eat and How to eat It.

To eat or not to eat is what is pestering my mind
to peel it from the top or to tear it from behind?

To eat it boiled or roasted or fried
in gravy , in sauce or cold and dried.

To chew it, suck it or may be swallow it whole
in slices, pieces or a tied up roll.

Brown when hot , yellow when cold
older the better , but not too old.

Fresh or stale or preserved in ice
bland , plain or a kin of some spice.

Chilled, Boiling, red hot for some
soft for some and for some to crump.

To be had with wine and sometimes water
great in the company of the Boss' daughter.

At noon,at dawn , at dusk or when it sets
a mood pensive or in midst of threats.

Easy, fast or quick if you may like
a salmon, a trout or take a pike.

In oil , without it, with it but without
wrapped in velvet or in a clout.

Eat it while you can dear Sir
for they say each year brings more doubt.

You cannot learn to love

you cannot learn to hate

can't learn how to write

can't learn how to to read

you cannot learn to smile

you cannot learn to see

can't learn how to forget

you cannot learn to be

you cannot learn to be small

and neither to be big

can't learn how to speak

can't learn how to hear

you can just learn how to learn

and learn that you can feel.

The Four Seasons

There are but four seasons
and four seasons shall there be,
all to remind us that life
will be what life shall be.

Be it the bright sunny days of summer
or the gloomy ones of rains,
the hope of spring be it
or winter's cold disdain.

The scent of autumn is in the air
when the leaves they turn to gold
and you walk on them as they lie on the road
they crackle , they are old.

Snowy peaks and clear blue streams
frozen lakes and hands
water everywhere sometimes
and sometimes in few strands.

They begin they end with precision methinks
but then so does life,
it's just that we can't see this all
in this age of struggle and strife.

1st post in September

It is true that this year the monsoons failed miserably. Shimla where the monsoon normally ends in the last week of august experienced on of the most heaviest showers of the season in the 1st week of september. This also marked the onset of the autumn season which means that all the residents of Shimla who had locked way heavy woolens would have to bring them out.
Autumn is a good season in Shimla. The whole experience of watching the temperature drop slowly and steadily and then to welcome the winters is quite beautiful.
From now on the sun shall shine brightly in the sky, but the window pains would be cold. Those who are sensitive to seasonal changes shall suffer from dry skin and other such minor ailments.
Although the rain Gods weren't as benevolent as the last time, still it would be a relief to walk on dry roads and puddle free fields. I have never loved the rains. I hate cloudy weather. When you can't see the sun for days at end you tend to get depressed. As it is Shimla has a very short summer season, and therefore it makes all the more sense for a person like me to hate the rainy season and welcome autumn. The feeling when you wake up to the bright sun's rays and step out into the balcony to bathe in them even as a slight chill in the air cools your still warm hands is ecstatic. You take bath with warm water and then quickly sneak into three layers of clothing and a lower. You step out and wait for your hair to dry and when they do you sit with you back towards the sun and read the morning paper. As evening approaches you are warm and fully charged up for an evening walk with woolens on. The cold air kisses your uncovered face and you get aroused by the romantic shape of the moon , which is shining in borrowed light.
Night comes in and you slip into the quilt which is quite cold but will soon grow warm and once it does you would not like to leave it's comfort.

Yes I love Autumn.

A Few Train Journeys You Shouldn't Miss-(Part 1 of a three part series)

Jhelum Express is a nice train. Notwithstanding the fact that it takes 44 hours to complete a journey which can be completed in about half that time.
Jhelum Express is a nice train,it is another thing that it stops at every station which comes along and also at spots where there never was nor will there ever be a station .
The train passes through 8 Indian states and hence blatantly refuses to accept the crow-fly distance theory . But Jhelum express is a nice train.

I don't know when did the train start running

but I can be sure of the fact that the trwin shall run for as long as Indian railiways is managed by the railway ministry.

Jhelum Express is the lifeline which supports the l;ives of 1000's of students who for some or the reason landed up in Pune and decided to pursue their education there. It also is an integral part of the lives of the Army personell residing in J&K but hailing from Maharashtra and other southern states.

To be continued........

Something about that site.

It was summer time in Shimla when the idea, to construct a portal which would somehow reflect our devotion to rock, in a way germinated. Honestly, we never thought about the shape and form which this novice idea would eventually acquire. All that we had in mind was an idea, an idea which would take us closer to the supernatural phenomenon called Rock music.

This site, folks, is not for those who thrive on dry facts and dead statistics. Rock is not about that. This site is also not an information database (we have wikipedia for it). The sole aim of this site, of this idea ,of this entire thought process is to assemble all the impressions about Rock music and galvanize them into something tangible and easily perceivable by those who plead ignorance when it comes to the various techniques of exploring this genre of music.

To unite the rock scene in the country , to give a concrete yet fluid mechanism via which the real meaning of rock can be explained. To stem out all theories which try to associate drug abuse with rock. These are in effect the humble objects of this site. Rockhangover is about waking up one morning to find yourself steeped in rock music , but of course you won't have to take lime juice to sweep way the hangover, what you'll need is a pint of Rock n' Roll!

A commendable initiative from the Government.

The union minister for agriculture is , in a way, a perfect example of incompetency and dejection. Or so I believed until the enlightened Indian media threw new light on the issue.
Aapke Khaane mein zeher hai!!!!!!!! is the tag line of this campaign which seeks to dissuade all of us from eating adulterated food items and dairy products( presuming of course that we were consuming them quite willingly and with knowledge of their contents) . The channels are however quite silent on the issue of identifying adulterated food and more importantly on how and where to find genuine and nutritious articles for daily consumption. For example, all the crops grown in the vicinity of Mumbai are unhealthy because they are irrigated with toxin infested water says news channel 1; all crops grown in and around Lucknow are not fit for human consumption for they have been subjected to malignant chemical treatment to give them that fresh and healthy look , says channel 2; the milk which many sip on to boost their immunity is actually coming out of a cauldron which contained urea, dye and artificial whiteners , says channel 76 ( I was quite happy to hear this because since childhood I have been raising my voice against the strange taste of the milk which was served to us twice a day, no one believed me then and put it down to my in born hatred for that drink, but now with all this documentary evidence coming up they can't help but side with me on the issue). So the defect of the matter is that no matter who you are and no matter where you live and no matter what you eat you are effectively consuming a certain amount of toxic wastes (depending upon you appetites ......Delhiites be warned) on a daily basis.
In view of these startling revelations , of course not for those who were involved in this affair, the government has now come up with an effective strategy to tackle this issue. To begin with , doubts are now being casted over the intentions of all those people who while they were in power promised to bring down the food prices and ensure that no one sleeps on an empty stomach. The C.B.I acting with it's characteristic expedience has even sketched a story that all those "Philanthropists were actually a part of the adulteration mafia and that this nexus goes way back to the times of Indira Gandhi when when the Green Revolution began. Many sources inside the government and outside it say that a committee has been set up( it shall be headed by bureaucrats) to investigate into the matter and submit a report stating why no steps were taken to snub the revolution and ensure that majority of the population goes to bed without having a morsel to digest.
The next important step to fight this menace has come from our ingenuous agriculture minister who by mismanaging the price control mechanism of food grains has ensured that many would be deprived of all these suspicious food items due to their high price . Only those who are foolish enough to spend exorbitant amounts on these venomous grains shall be the ones lying at the mercy of the mafia.
In an interview to a local news channel the minister said and I quote " Having discovered this conspiracy many years ago, it had become the sole aim of my life to increase the prices of all essential food items so that they are beyond the common man's reach. I understand that many farmers are committing suicide because of my move but please look at the larger picture; I am saving millions of people from consuming these pernicious products. What is more important?the lives of a few hundred (ok thousand) farmers who may have even connived with the adulterers or the millions sitting happily in in their homes waiting for the lady of the house to serve them their daily bread, not knowing that what they are actually consuming is poison."
I must say that after listening to this groundbreaking policy measure I have become a die hard fan of our government. After all what could have been a simpler way of stopping people from buying adulterated stuff than by crippling them financially and ruining their monthly budgets.
almost contemporaneously the government is reducing the prices of mobile phones and other luxury products so as to divert the public money to far safer substitutes ( unlike adulterated food, the harmful effects of mobile phones upon health have not been substantiated by any solid scientific evidence) .
Since this is technically recession time , the government is quite hopeful of further increasing food grains and other prices during inflation. Thus more people shall be benefited and prevented from consuming those poison Ivy's in the coming months.

These being decent enough measures for those who won't be left with enough money to spend on food and milk after having exhausted their savings on mobile phones and prescription drugs( genuine ones of course) the government is now focussing it's attention to all those people and classes where people earn enough to spend on all the above mentioned items without having to raise a loan. These people shall always be vulnerable to adulteration and hence the government is contemplating setting up compromise centres wherein the adulterers and the affluent public will meet weekly to decide upon the contents of that week's toxic materials and their % composition in the food stock. This, says a Senior bureaucrat, will help both the sides to resolve any differences as also allow the doctors to accurately diagnose any ailment caused due to impure food , as people would know beforehand what is being served to them. Conversations in clinics are most likely to go something like this- "No wonder my dear Sir, are you suffering from such and disease , after all you have been taking in too much urea of late. I would strongly advise to go for ABC food products , they use better quality and diluted urea . "
Not to stay behind in this war against adulteration the Consumer affairs ministry has asked all food grain suppliers, dairy milk producers and fake drug manufacturers to start displaying the % composition of all the chemicals, toxins, paints, dyes, fertilizers and filth used to produce their respective items.

Those working in corporate set ups are however not pleased with this system of weekly negotiations, because of their hectic work schedules. Hence many of them have sent a representation to the government asking it to provide online facilities to do the same. While many have gone as far as deciding not to buy these products and thrive on the frozen foods served by their cafeteria( blissfully ignorant of the fact that that pizza has been made by the local sweetmeat store).

Whatever may be the response to this scheme it is now certain that the government has found a a sure shot way of curbing this menace. As it turns out, all those 5 year plans which were filled with elaborate schemes to remove poverty and hunger , but failed miserably , may just even have worked in our favour.

No longer shall I criticize the Agriculture minister for attending B.C.C.I. MEETINGS , no longer shall I criticise the economists for being decorative pieces in a curiosity shop. This is because now I know that every time that I am denied a meal I am also being denied the opportunity to consume harmful substances in the shape of food grains.

From Θ to Π

Many humans with whom I have had anything to do in life, have a very cheerful air about them. From the moment they enter into something they become a part of it and start enjoying the experience of being a part of it. I cannot claim any such thing for myself. It takes me an awful long time to become a part of something so much so that when I am finally able to relinquish my fears and prejudices it is almost the end of my stay in that something. Consequently the only years when I do enjoy my stay in any institution are when I am at the fag end of my stay there.

After spending 10 years in the same school I finally began accepting my situation and it was only in the beginning of year 12 that I finally started enjoying going to school.

My father says that no matter how dark and sad your past may have been , the brain has a natural propensity to always remember all the happy moments which you may have experienced in your life, despite the general gloom around you. I don't know how far this statement holds good , but as far as I can remember my last year in school was a time of great strife and struggle and still I can claim that most of the memories from that time are sweet.

It all started withΘ and ended with П.

Rock is not about drugs

Ever since I was a kid ( and I am not an octogenarian as I write this) have I seen this slogan being telecasted , printed and aired on every possible media- SAY NO TO DRUGS! DON'T SMOKE! etc. etc. etc.  Well, for all those chain smokers , drunkards and drug abusers out there , I have just two words - CARRY ON ! It's just that there is a little problem here , a small but real problem. Unless you are a Syd Barrett or Robert Plant or anyone related to those figures you may very well end up in a state owned Rehab. facility located on the outskirts of an obscure locality where sewage and drinking water share the same source and where food is not important for you'll be busy vomiting out truckloads of shit which you so religiously ingested over the years under the intoxicating effect of adolescence, youth and "Rock music"....did I get it right was it Rock music...yes it was . Iam pretty sure that when you first sniffed a drug it was because Kurt Cobain( God bless his soul) personally handed you the stuff. I really hand it to you guys, the only thing which Cobain handed out to me was a headache when he entered the MTV studio in New York without taking a bath. Any ways I surely am glad for all of you who feel that Rock music has something to do with drugs. After all every drug peddler needs to earn his living, that poor fellow shall die of hunger and frustration if people stop being gullible and injecting themselves with that cool stuff. I would have joined you in your exploration but I for one care more for that highly overrated commodity called good health. Someone once said (somewhere around 1200 A.D. ) in Arabia: That if you have health you have hope, and if you have hope you have everything. Unless hope is the name of a drug I think the message is quite clear. By the way that guy surely knew how to enjoy his music , though it may only have been a few Arabs playing a tambourine after gulping down a glass or two of  fresh camel milk.

Don't let the covers distract you Sir.

First impression is the last last impression. This has to be the most overused line in the history of behavioural sciences. Also , it is one of the most erroneous ones when it comes to picking up the best deal from the lot. Often the things which you repel you when you look at them first turn out to be the gems among the whole pile. I repeat 'often' for there are many things which are as pathetic as their first look signifies.

The image of rock as something more serious and heinous has always been a topic of discussion among the young followers of this phenomenon. No band has done more to promote this image than Iron Maiden not because they were repulsive to look act but because of their outrageous album covers and also their mind boggling fan base.

Iron Maiden makes music which is marked by innate energy and pump. The band always goes out for the kill. Be it in drumming, guitar play or vocals Iron Maiden's music never fails to enthrall the listener. The only thing which takes something away from the band(and it's fans may kill me for slighting them) is the conspicuous absence of variety and as some may call it finesse.

The band is undoubtedly Hard rock's most illustrious representative having brilliance recorded at various times in their long career.

The reason why this article may end up being short is that their music warrants so. You either love them or can't relate to them. Either ways you can't take away anything from the band who's fan following is sufficient to remove any doubts from anyone's mind regarding the stature of this veteran Rock act.

Sammy recommends:

Songs: Be quick or be dead, Hallowed be thy name, Killers, The ides of march-wrathchild, to name a few.

It is a serious advice that if you like even one of the above mentioned songs please make it a point to try out the entire album , it's worth it.

Put the fork on the right side.

The fork as a tool for devouring meals is hardly an Indian implement. You don't require a three pronged fork to properly eat any staple Indian food. Inspite of this we all as a race have indeed been benevolent to the fork and now any excursion to any restaurant, irrespective of the cuisine it serves or professes to, brings us to a well laid table with the cutlery essentially loaded with knives and forks .

Laying the table is one thing and using those items another. To my bewilderment I have discovered that the people actually use forks to eat traditional Indian dishes. More over, South Indian food is now looked upon as something which cannot be consumed without a knife to cut the the Dosa and a fork to poke into the Idli. I always find myself at a loss when it comes to eating south Indian food with forks and knives. Having said that , dosas and idlis still can be comfortably eaten with forks and all but would somebody care to tell me as to how can anyone possibly eat those deep fried paranthas from Punjab with forks. But I have seen people do that. I mean even the fork would be wondering that for what unearthly purposes am I being put into use. Why should a fork be used to eat paranthas. There is nothing wrong or right about having Indian food with western implements but then should we also bring table manners into this.

All said and done , does all this even matter when we look at the bigger picture. The moral of the story is that while eating put the fork on the right side, i.e. the left side which is the right side.

The Fountain - Head

I don't know why, when, how or who was ingenuous enough to have undertaken the task to scratch the 'C' from every inscription titled " Clover construction" engraved on cement benches to accomodate the tired bottoms of hard working students. It must have been quite painstaking but the effort produced the desired result, which means that 1 out of every 3 individuals observed the work of art and almost every body forgot it the very next moment for it represented the most striking example of unoriginality . Honestly the whole show wasn't actually invidious , only a little low on genuine humour.
After attending our lectures for the day which ended at say around 10 a.m. or 0010 hours , we used to head out to a spot which was quite strategically located in the college premises. Since none of us had anything better to do , except for of course watching a movie or going to a new eatery to order and eat the same old things, we all decided to make that spot our "place of zen" as one of us later called it( God knows why) .
There is a rather long cemented enclosure ( painted with colours which do not match with anything else on the premises) which contains a couple or more of small taps supposed to eject water at the appropriate time so as to be called a fountain.
It is another thing that those devious little truants never actually splashed a drop of that liquid , at least not when when we were around them. Some hostelers do tell me tales of them fountains being really beautiful when they do work, which happens quite rarely ( giving Hailey's comet a run for it's money). The last time when anyone saw them behaving as they technically should, was when a committee of a few persons had come over to our institution to accredit it. I think they liked the fountain , after all we were given the highest grade available on the platter.

Anyways, this fountain(which is not actually one) is not important per se, but becomes so because of the topographical features it gives rise to , quite inadvertently of course, on the premises. Firstly it creates a semi-circular track of sorts for vehicles to ply on, including those which should not have entered the gate in the first place. I never could understand as to why the guard who was supposed to man the gate always stood on the exit end of the semicircle and not the entry point. But why not? After all it is far easier to collect the parking fee when people leave than to be continuously worried about someone making a slow motion yet non-stationary circumlocution of the semi circle to perform an errand. The fountain also served as natural compass for all those who pretended that they were quite lost when it came to finding the lecture halls or the library. To the north of the fountain's top most tip lay the college library and reading room. It is quite interesting to note that at any point of time the number of people who were standing outside the library was always equal to or greater than the number of people inside them. Most of them(who stood outside ) were actually those fellows who had taken a break from their intense research work to attend a call from someone who was standing outside the cinema hall getting confused whether or not to take the platinum row for the evening show of a movie which no one was sure about (qualitatively).
To the fountain's left lay the ladies parking which always bore a deserted look.beyond it was the Sports field which fielded God knows who, for whatever they were they weren't students from our college.
To the fountain's right was the college canteen. Always swarming with people. For as long as I can remember providing it with a permanent roof never quite made it to the priority list of the college authorities. It's yellow coloured tarpaulin roof added colour to the college premises.

Needless to say ( And specially if you have been to a legal drafting lecture where a sale deed was (badly)drafted) to the south was the public road. Quite busy. We managed to witness many incidents on that road, ranging from minor accidents and major brawls to well intentioned peace processions where 98765432 candles were wasted to support something which no one really had any idea about.
So the question is....where did we place ourselves to observe all this and much more? For it was to explain our den's location that the fountain was brought into the picture. Before I go on to describe that location and please it's not a secret hideout , let me briefly and without breaking the vow of anonymity present you with the ingredients of " we". We were a group of 7 persons, human beings if you like. 3 of us belonging to the fairer sex ( no racist intent). All were comparatively free creatures , none hard pressed with any impending deadline. This was because of different reasons to be sure. While the females had utilized 4 of their 5 years quite fruitfully and hence could afford to relax a little, the same could not not be said for the others who had always managed to cheat work and other such organisms by adopting a cynical attitude towards labour and ambition. Ok I admit it, I was the the most indolent specimen out there or may be the only . Whatever it was the bottomline is that for most part of the final year we spent majority of our free time sitting on a rather long low and flat pedestal which supported nothing and at best marked the semicircular track's boundary. That was it , that was our Fountain head. And it did harbour us in pretty rough times.

Thrashing out all the trash

The contents of this review owe their presence to my brother ( yes the same chap who's into guitars and bought that guitar self help book), who introduced me to a band which calls itself " METALLICA". I first felt that the band's name was too cliched . But then I realized that whatever we call trademark metal stuff today was actually the result of a groundbreaking musical movement of the 80's and Metallica was the pioneer. Interestingly unlike other pioneers who soon get eclipsed by their successors , Metallica grew as a music phenomenon at an unbelievably fast pace .

I f you ask me that " Dude , tell me ...what is this Band's music like?"
I would simply answer" Please don't call me dude and go listen to Battery followed by a extra helping of Ride the Lightning "

Sadly, my job permits me no such latitude and hence I can't be terse. So here follows a little something on one of the most closely knit units which the rock world has seen in the age of Music vandalism carried out by pop music and videos.

Metallica's music does not reflect richness in variety. In a way that is it's USP. Metallica's tracks are easily recognizable . Hetfield voice lends a heavy touch to the band. Metallica's success is chiefly attributable to their age old policy of sticking to the basics and strengths. A legendary bassist, Ferocious riffs, typical thrash drumming all contribute to Metallica's die hard fan following. Metallica is surely Rock's face from the 80's .
Metallica also holds the distinction of being the only band who's music never showed signs of softening up time. In fact St. Anger will have to go down as the band's hardest work after the masterpieces from the 80's.
It shall be quite improper if I don't talk about Metallica's exploits in the area of softer and slower ballads like "Nothing else matters " etc. Undoubtedly these songs prove that Metallica knows the essence of rock.
Personally, I am not into Thrash metal and stuff but the baNd's creative sincerity has wheedled out of me a lavish and decorative review of this band's work; but I must say Metallica deserves every bit of this praise.

Sammy recommends:

out here my choice of songs and albums may differ a little due to reasons stated above:

albums: Ride the lightning , Load ( I regard it as the Band's best album )
songs: Battery, Fade to black, Bleeding me and almost all the tracks from Load.

Happy thrashing folks!

Deep as it gets.

My affair with Rock music started on a cold December day when I listened to what would turn out to be my first Rock song, which was "Smoke on the water performed live in Oslo, Norway " By a band called Deep Purple.

My first reaction when I finished listening to the track was : "Oh! God! This is what I always wanted in my music" I won't be exaggerating( though people say I often do that) if I say that I may have rewinded and played the tape at least a score of times to really swallow the enormity of the spectacle.
The fact that it was a much quicker interactive performance added to the song's instant charm. Later I discovered that the Band 's music revolved around this maddening fanaticism for bold stage overtures , theatrics and an equal or far greater intensity in their music.
Blackmore was a Genius, Gillan a romantic , Paice the foundation. The Band has had around 5 lineups. But none of this has dented it's credibility as an unrelenting rock machine over the years.

Through and through a Hard rock act , the band stands out for it's slower and more melodic compositions. Black night, Smoke......, Mistreated, Lay down stay down, The mule etc are classics.

As a band Deep Purple can't claim too high a status, probably because of Blackmore's infamous superciliousness which led to a chronic recurrence of rifts in the Band 's extended history. As musicians though, Deep Purple was a rich storehouse.
The Band's music reflects a great degree of variation and variety. All albums produced in the 1980's for eg. are a clear departure from the Band's material from the early 70's. Interestingly of all the bands which originated in the glorious 60's Only Deep Purple managed to register those subtle changes in their style which helped them to merge with the decade in which they found themselves.

For all those who are new to the rock scene I would suggest a crash course of sorts in which the newcomer ought to listen to at least 3 songs from each of the Band's albums till date. This will be a good foundation for anyone who wishes to appreciate the origins and transition of Hard rock as a genre.

Sammy Recommends:

albums- Machine head, Nobody's Perfect, California jamming ( vocals by Coverdale), Abandon.
songs- Smoke on the water, Mistreated, You fool no one, The mule, Fingers to the bone, Knocking at your backdoor, Black Night......frankly the list is endless...tragically I haven't found a "best of" collection album as yet which covers the essential sound of this Band.

Creedence Clearwater Revival- The soul of Rock

Around two years ago I was browsing through a "Learn your self- The Guitar guide book". The book's title cover showed a man who resembled Jesus in in his outward appearance holding a guitar in his hand with a strange pheasant like expression on his face as if to say "Sonny make my Day, buy this book; it's worth it "

After this rather interesting but not by any means encouraging start my brother who is into this whole guitar thing decided to give it a shot and shelled out a substantial amount on the Book( substantial because the book according to us both wasn't really worth it !).
Well after purchasing it came the next step was to go through it and as I was saying earlier that two years ago I undertook this task to browse through that Guitar guide book. My eyeballs quickly scanned the contents page to see the likes of Led zeppelin , deep purple , nirvana on the sample notes page.
Cutting to the chase ,one name appeared at an alarming frequency . It was a name which I hadn't heard before. But a name I would never forget after that. CCR.

It took me a week to find out the full form of this rather dubious acronym. On the seventh day Google told me : Son what the heck are you doing? it's CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL for God's bloody sake.
Never in my life (and I am no Noah) have I come across a band with mindboggling fan following, painfully simple musical philosophy and no bull shit.
Listen to " Bad Moon Rising" ; the track is a classic example of all those virtues. Simple to play, simple to follow and simple to digest. This my friends if I can call you that , is the essence of rock n' roll.
This does not however mean that the band lacked lyrical depth . To remove your doubts I would like to recommend two songs worth their salt:
Born on the bayou
fortunate son
Both cover different issues . One is a country boy's cauldron of emotions while the other is a brilliant satire shot at all those " fortunate sons around"

I in particular love born on the bayou because of it's southie touch and vocals.

Anybody who wants to go neck deep into the world of rock cannot do so without giving CCR a patient hearing.
Their songs reflect the purity of rock which all the progressive rock bands of the 60's and 70's lack.

Sammy Recommends :

The Chronicles of Creedence Clearwater Revival (Vol. 1 and 2)

Go buy the set. Ya, torrents are available . Piracy is a crime but it suits one's pocket.

RACISM IS GOOD FOR HEALTH

Last month when I was vacationing in Delhi I saw an American feature film named Gran Torino.
It wasn't a politically correct film. Steeped in racism and loaded with profanities the writer of the movie minced no words in expressing the feelings of the characters . I once came across a writing by Braithwaite who declared that racism is for real, but a better way to deal with it would be to slap the victim in the face than to slander and snub him hypocritically.
The movie perhaps took Braithwaite's word for good.
Racism as we have come to define it is any act by which we discriminate against any person who differs from us in his racial origins. Just stop and examine this sentence. Discrimination is the most important word there. While talking about racism we should not get confused . Racial discrimination is wrong , racial differentiation is natural.

The reason why children from the same age group are taught together in class , the reason why People from one community prefer to mingle with other persons from the same community is that we feel more comfortable with those who are like us in may respects. When we move to a higher scale then intellectual similarities overtake religious , sexual and social barriers when it comes to interacting with people.
Racial differentiation occurs because of ignorance , discrimination because of a logically consistent theory which propounds the supremacy of a race.

So whenever we talk of racism we should classify the activity into one of the above mentioned two categories. Racial differentiation can be cured by simply improving the scene so as to make it more congenial for inter racial social intercourse. Racial discrimination is that activity which poses a real threat to the creation of a such a congenial atmosphere.
To eradicate discrimination we have to attack the psyche of those who believe in the theory of racial superiority. Now comes the tricky part. Racial discrimination can be partly eradicated by increasing inter racial social intercourse which in turn may not be possible due to the stubborn and self-righteous attitude governing those who are to be targeted.
The solution to this diabolical problem lies in convincing the racists that what they actually detest is not the race but the social as well as individual characteristics exhibited by a person belonging to a particular community,group or religious sect.

Secondly , we can also tackle this problem by talking about it more openly. Direct confrontations are in all likelihood better when it comes to dealing with this issue than a hushed up take on the issue where discrimination takes place but it is considered a taboo to talk about it as if it is a fictitious monster.

What is heartening is that majority of the cases which we take for racist incidents are actually instances of racial differentiation varying in degree and seriousness.

Thus we should all come out with our beliefs and views no matter how racially charged they are. If you are a racist at heart then the only way to escape injury (both physical as well as mental) from it is by expressing yourself boldly and trying to convert your ailment of racism into merely racial differentiation.

On The Fashionable Nuances of Our Times.

Fashion is like a whirlpool of a thousand ideas which tends to take in and swallow every mortal who swims it's way. Mind you fashion has got nothing to do with morality or immorality. Yes I agree that Fashion sometimes gets a little vulgar, but then what does not? everyone, me ,you, the pastor who lives across the street, the priest who prays in the temple, even Rakhi Sawant was vulgar at some or the other time in life. What's the big deal? vulgarity reminds us of the importance of decency. If there were no reality shows around to cross the limits of absurdity and redefine the boundaries of ridiculousness do you think we would have ever been able to appreciate the fact that in spite of all that it was The Bold and The beautiful was indeed a sensible show? I admit that even after following it for ten years no one could figure out who fathered whom in the show, but then believe me it is better to be entangled in the web of imaginary incestuous relationships than to tolerate the highly intellectual debates between Aman Verma and Negar Khan.

Coming back to fashion(although vulgarity in itself is quite a remarkable topic for discussion) I would like to say something about the Film Industry of India and it's invaluable contribution to the world of fashion. No one can deny the technical and creative brilliance exhibited by our costume designers over the years. I for one, cannot get that image out of my impressionable mind where Amitabh Bachchan sported a jet black suit garnished with 4 volt bulbs all blinking and shining away to glory. Nor can can I ever forget Rishi Kapoor's endless line of sweaters which he wore irrespective of the season or the terrain in which they were shooting. Still fresh in my memory are those frilled skirts worn by the leading ladies of the 90's where it was hard to judge as to who was looking cheaper, the actress(if you can call her that) with her voluptuous smile or the skirt with unbelievably loud embroidery.

Among the most exquisite and adventurous experiments in the field was the one carried out in the legendary saga " DHARAM VEER"

For the benefit of the reader I would like to postulate the creative genius displayed by the costume designer of that movie:

1. Dharmendra is shown as a roman gladiator with strap shoes and a single piece frock.

2. Jeetendra is a 18th century English noble man who was in love with Frenchwomen and hence wears a cross of the two attires.

3. There is Neetu Singh who quite gracefully covers herself up with medieval middle eastern outfits.

4. The queen looks like a character straight out of an unpublished J.K Rowling comic book.

5. The list is just about to get over when suddenly Zeenat Aman steps in dressed as Red Sonja (of course not exposing to the extent which Bridgitte Nielsen did)

I mean I am a great lover of art(except modern and clip) and appreciate creativity but would someone care to tell me that which period in history did the movie seek to cover.

It's as if the costume designer stepped into the dressing room of "Benhur" and came out of the lounge room of the " The Three Musketeers", to go straight to watch the red carpet premier of Harry Potter and The Half Hearted fart.

In a way the movie was a good history lesson. Lets us now scrap all those boring " what did they wear" sections from the history books and substitute them with a CD of DHARAM VEER( a signed club from Dharamendra free).

Moving away from the movies which have done more than anybody ever could to demean the civilized man; let's talk about the role played by the fashion designers and their guinea pig models in shaping the fashion of the times.

Please don't get distracted by their accent they all barely managed to pass the higher secondary school examination( and I've heard many of them had already bribed the flying squad).

There was a time, and I am not referring to the time before Christ, when designers tried to design something which could be worn in public. Of course now that time and practice is passe'.

The sole aim of each designer now is out do the faggot next door when it comes to breaching the lines of sanity and propriety. All the designers I have come across resort to two ancient practices and devices to sell their products.

1. bare it all

2. wear it all

The thing is that almost all of these designers have a doubtful sexual orientation. I f by any chance God gifts them clarity they deliberately adopt a certain attitude as to infuse doubt into the mind of the onlooker regarding their true colours( i mean in a non-sexual sense).

when they see that the sales are dwindling and the trp's

falling they say" Bare It All"

When they see that the consumer is now fully under their intoxication they command" Wear it All" which means wear anything they serve: leaves for skirts, gold plated lingerie, Sheep skin shoes, (though I must say most of them are members of PETA), backless shirts, strapless swimwear, faded torn jeans etc.

Oh yes there is one form of design which always is in vogue: The almost series

eg. The OVIO summer wear collection which ALMOST covers the private parts

A &B 's winter collection which ALMOST serves the purpose.

R's autumn collection which ALMOST falls off when the model walks on the ramp

Y's swimwear collection which ALMOST looks like something.

W's natural theme collection where one ALMOST cries out aloud to be spared from the torture

Alas the ALMOST series is too big to get all the place it actually requires here.

But fashion is not just about what we wear but how we wear it. Till last year, for example, almost everyone I knew who sported Tight jeans or loose ones , tied them way below the waist so as to give the appearance that the fellow is just about to visit the loo and is preparing for it or has just returned from from it and has forgotten to properly zip up the thing.

Fashion ladies and gentlemen is no longer a secondary item on the budget it is now an industry where new means are devised everyday to trick the unsuspecting victims into buying something which will look good on them if they undergo a plastic surgery, a botox procedure, some liposuction and of course Three months of regular gyming in the local super rich elite gymnasium with a sensuous gym instructor who is always ready to show you how it's done.

All said and done I don't think Fashion is really a waste of time after all. For it is much better to spend hours admiring the unisex Capris than watching Barkha Dutt vomit out stale intellectual anecdotes and Mr. XYZ from South Delhi agreeing "completely " with her.

Peeping inside the Modern Tourist's psyche

What does a tourist want ?

This question has troubled me ever since I grew old enough to be troubled by such questions.

Although many years have passed since that question first cropped up in my then inquisitive mind, the answer is still as illusive as it then was .

Initially I believed people came to Shimla to feast on the snow. When snowfall became an uncertain event, I decided that may be it's the cool weather which attracts them. Never once did it come to my my mind that may be they have come to enjoy nature. It's not my fault you see, that this idea didn't show up in my research. After all how many tourists do you you actually see enjoying mother nature as it resides . Every tourist spot eventually becomes famous for the street food served there. If not that then in places like Shimla, where nature is in abundance and where virtually every view is panoramic, ridiculous guided tours are made and points counted to complete an excursion.

I once had the privilege of evesdropping on a father son duo who were in midst of a philosophical debate. the son says" all mountains look the same" the father says" no, that one has some quality, after all it is mentioned in this in this brochure"

this is the state of things as they exist. Every weekend loads of tourist come up to Shimla to do God knows what.

Over the course of time many local shops and eateries have closed down and in their place have come up all those multinational food chains and apparel chains. It would really seem ridiculous if A tourist should travel 1000 miles to eat in a subway on a hill station.

The local cuisine, culture and manners are fast dying. What's even more worrying is that people have no problems with the demise of their unique culture.

A trip on the mall road is sufficient to convince one on the point that everybody out there is a clone. The tourists are looking for non-existent delights.

Tourism is now becoming a self destructive movement.

and I still don't know why tourists throng to Shimla if not for Shimla as it is.

Ode to ILS

Our day starts at 5 in the morning
when the sky hasn't still turned blue
While the people are sleeping or Yawning
We start our day all grand and new.

3 hours into the day
and we are free for good;

we are free to do what we want to,
not free to do what we should.

struggling against the traffic
we reach home much sooner than noon.

for those who have 12 hour work schedules
we are quite out of tune.

back in the room there's no power
so we sit with sweat and in heat
we won't have a cold shower
so without freshening up we eat.

and thus comes the evening and darkness
we all step out on the road,
it looks we are being driven like cattle
being hit by a specially made goad.

finally it's time to sleep
only to wake up at 5 the next day

it's not that we our smitten by this life
but we won't have it any other way.

Let's Start From The Beginning.

Almost a week after it was received, was I informed of it's arrival. Better late than never, they say, in retrospect I can only mull over that day when , at the 11th hour was I given the information which would lead to a series of events all directed and guided by the supreme human desire to appease everyone including oneself in every possible way and to the greatest extent.

Before I commence the tract fully, I would like to say something about the people of Delhi. And when you talk about the people of a place you automatically have to talk about the weather. Like Delhi's weather the people out there also exhibit extreme emotions , surprisingly all at one time.
The word contradictory does not apply here for these emotions seem to compliment each other very well(to my dismay). They are short tempered and tall ordered. Warm and cold. Detached and indulgent. In an AC NIELSEN survey they were rated as the most street smart people residing in any city in thew world( 1/3rd of the Delhiites who fit this criteria can be found loitering around in the corridors of the parliament)

By the way that survey thing was a joke.

Like all humans and for that matter living organisms, even the Delhiites are concerned about their well being, it is but another thing that invariably their embellishment means the pro rata spoliation of their neighbours (the word should be given a liberal construction).

In the sweltering heat of June did I find myself brushing shoulders with these street smart people who in spite of themselves out did each other in pushing me to the back of the queue and convincing me that I was not meant for the streets.(something which I took for a compliment)

Fortune favors the brave and success comes running to those who persevere . I can't see how this applies to our story here, but at the time when I was writing it it sounded good. Hence why bother deleting it.

Had I stayed in Delhi and taken admission there may be I could have devoted and would have devoted an entire chapter to the people of this great city, but as fate had already intervened I found myself sitting in a Sahara air carrier bound for Pune , a day after I received the information that a law college there had shortlisted me for admission .

What I call the beginning is thus the time which starts running when I landed in Pune all ready and set to spend the next five years of my earthly life there.

Nested in the pristine and serene environment of the law college hill lies The I.L.S. Law college.
Primarily it is a happy hunting ground for all morning walkers; The college timings are quite unique , for when people commence their journeys from home to office the students of this prestigious college can be seen packing their portmanteaus ( if they brought one in the first place) to start a similar trip , only towards their homes or p.g. s, as applicable.
To be sure the day for the students of this college starts only when the college ends. This gives them not only the latitude but also the conviction to embark upon various paths and journeys relating to extra curricular exploits and amusements.
During my stint at this legendary institution I personally witnessed students completing 101 diplomas, certificate courses, language courses , higher degrees all quite comfortably and without breaking a sweat, during the semester and after it. It is but another thing that there were many candidates who got so excited by this prospect of adding to their qualification that they ended up missing the law exams or failing in them due to the pending workload brought about by their various allied pursuits.
Although it reflects quite poorly upon me, I would not shy way from declaring that in those five years(yes it was a five year course) I managed to avoid any such constructive activity and devoted myself entirely to the ardent adulation of existential concepts like loneliness, depression and the like which often mark the lives of those who have nothing to do and a lot of time to do it in.
When I first entered the college I had a rather limited vision when it came to the legal profession. Since I had entered the course by chance and not choice I could also not boast of nurturing and entertaining fantastic aspirations regarding my growth in this particular field.
It is another thing that my limited vision completely fizzled out by the time I reached the final year, in spite of the fact that not a single person I came in contact with outside the college , failed to impress upon me the bright avenues linked with the legal profession in these days of harmonious litanies.
True to my shy and indolent nature I was pathetically slow and infirm when it came to socializing and hence even at the end of Two full years(or as some of my more progressive colleagues put it four semesters) I could hardly call any single soul in the I.L.S law college compound my friend. I had many acquaintances, all on amiable terms. Some say that it was because of my monstrous moustaches that I could not break into the social circle. I would beg to differ( not on the monstrous moustaches point, yes they were indeed gigantic) on that point , for if anything which could have brought a shy guy like me into any group , it would have had to be something so striking as those preposterously thick and long moustaches( not to mention unkempt).
I would now like to move the scene to The beginning of the third year when slowly( as slowly can be) I started finding a few fellows with whom I began " hanging around"( no pun intended)

As it often happens, courage and creativity develop in solitary settings but can only germinate and ripen when one is in the company of fellow human beings and the society at large.

My shy and bashful nature could now find an outlet for expressing it's inner most desires on almost every issue available.
It is rather ironic that the first issue which presented itself to me was regarding something which occupies the imagination of each every individual at least four times a day.

Our college was designed by someone who was quite fascinated by the prospect of providing the passers by with adequate opportunity to peep inside the lavatories and feast upon the site of the male species urinating.
Had females been equipped by The Creator to pee in the same way as the males this would have been equally true for the female lavatories also. But as things stand, Females have been forced to urinate behind closets from times immemorial , some say to preserve their modesty, others say to prevent the male species from exhibiting crude animal like behaviour.

Luckily, not many individuals are interested in exploring the interiors of the lavatories ( at least by peeping in) . I however cannot afford to be so presumptuous when it comes to males , who have had folklore written in their names whenever they have been able to make an adventurous excursion to the female lavatory's precincts.
It came to me more as an epiphany than anything else. It so happened that while a person was busy relieving himself he could be watched by two sets of onlookers: ones who were going to the lecture hall( through he strategically place window) the others who were waiting in a queue lined up before the administrative office right in front of the obtuse angled door to the lavatory.

Luckily this revelation dawned upon me when I wasn't inside the rest room myself. Though it cannot be denied that it was due to the continuous and persistent feeling of good natured disgust
that the roots of the toilet committee took shape.

Before proceeding further let me just give the reader a brief insight into the plan and layout of the whole arrangement . We had two sets of rest rooms. One in the library block, the other in the academic block. Both these rooms for both the sexes were so designed that everyone could get a clear view of what was going inside them. For reasons mentioned earlier , the females were protected from the public gaze, but the same didn't hold true for the unfortunate males who were subjected to this humiliation and discomfort daily. I won't deny that some males drew pleasure out of the whole thing. But that percentage was quite small as compared to those who genuinely wanted to do something about the unacceptable situation.

Since the toilet block had only recently been renovated the college authorities were more than happy with whole arrangement. After all , why should the students be bothered about who is watching them.....this is India where privacy is is an alien concept.

As far as the female toilets in the library block were concerned they were located just next to the book issue counter. May be the designer saw a poetic angle in this.

On a wet monsoon day ( urghh.....) me and a group of my now closer acquaintances (totally five in number) formed an informal association called the toilet committee so as to scientifically analyse the situation and then approach the authorities to rectify the same.

This whole idea was initially marked by subdued embarrassment for obvious reasons. Those who were quite comfortable talking about much more sensitive issues conveniently failed , neglected,avoided, refused ....................ad infinitum (long live legal drafting) to sympathise with us and our cause. To bring credibility to the whole thing I even tried to fit in Labour laws to justify our demands. Ridiculous as it may seem this move did work, as the bright and legally aware students of the college who till then were looking upon the whole thing as a joke now began to see sense in the movement( what a joke).

After campaigning for our primal rights for most part of the semesters mostly through(as they later proved to be ) ineffective methods like meetings and discussions we were able to gather 10 people to support our cause. As for the rest , may be they relished the thought of being the objects of everybody's affection or really trusted their fellow students' maturity levels.

Those were days when my stay in Pune was unbelievably short and i was always on the look out for any circular which would announce the commencement of various vacations,( we had a preparatory leave which was longer than the actual vacations).

The plan was to moot our proposal which involved a massive structural overhauling of the current arrangement before i left for the P.ls.

SCENE II:

Last day of the 10th semester exams

As I close the zipper on my faded jeans( not washed for the last 2 months) my instinct tells me that there are about 34 students standing outside who have a clear view of me and hence can easily embarrass me. the scene is the same throughout the length and breadth of the college wherever the rest rooms are located. While i was packing my stuff to bid farewell to Pune I had come across that very morning a piece if paper which bore the names of the magnificent 5 who were the esteemed members of the I.L.S. TOILET COMMITTEE.