The Dark Light

I've really been enjoying movies lately.

Jaane Tu was surprisingly entertaining. Reminded me of me friends, it did. Watching it with Mum and Dad was equally charming. It was interesting that for once Bollywood made the ridiculous seem truly lovable and not annoyingly fake. It was a story being told and that made all the random bursting-into-songs understandable. Everyone apart from Genelia rocked. I loved Pappu yaar.

That obviously leads to the other movie I really enjoyed. There probably are a dozen million reviews of this movie all over the internet so I am not going to attempt to be another redundant addition. The Dark Knight is brilliant. Heath Ledger is legendary. His non-existence is tragic. Whether playing the Joker contributed to his death will always be debated, but the very fact that it could, is scary. The psychedelic Joker is truly powerful both in the movie and in the freakiness of the character. Ask Ali. All in all, like the world will probably tell you, if you don’t watch this movie and if you have anything against it, you suck.

The summer’s been crazy but not in the way that you’re thinking. It’s just been full of epiphanies. It started with Spain with my sister and my cousin. I finally realized how close I am to my sister and how much she means to me beyond just the blood relationship. Dubai was next. My parents re-instated how super cool they are. Mum’s food can never be surpassed. Dad’s greatness can never be appreciated enough. Work at TEN Sports has been a truly fruitful experience. Another change that I’ve come to accept is music-related. Good music is good music - doesn’t matter if it’s a part of your “favorite genre” or not. Amen Romit. Also, intoxication in controlled amounts is dazzling. I think too much. So getting the right amount of drunk makes me carefree and gives me the release that I sometimes really need. It’s a feel-good-don’t-give-a-shit feeling. I like.

But Dubai has its limits. I’m done with it for the summer. I can’t wait to get back to university. Also, New Zealand in winter (thanks Jason!). Good times.

P.S. Nothing P.S. worthy today.

Home

I hate Dubai but Home feels good. Mum, Dad and Sister are awesome. Rekindling the lost moments with friends is priceless. Losing yourself in the place where a lot of me was shaped is smile-worthy.

Life is friggin' hectic and I love it. Coming back to the old has helped me realise how I have changed over this past year. Meeting people but not deviating from career plans, and the sense of growth is very uplifting.

University is life-changing. It all boils down to what you make of it. You can either come back as an alcoholic, smoking stoner or as a level-headed, matured individual - it's fascinating. Re-igniting old friendships and catching up with people who you never expected to catch up with, is satisfying. Life's good - filter out the hatred and embrace the worthy.

Anyway it's late and I have nothing of great consequence to say, so I will take my leave.

P.S. Hope Netherlands demolishes everyone else. :) Screw you Ronaldo. MUHAHAHAH

Redial Entertainment Today

The five great souls that constitute Redial Entertainment are still alive, but scattered.

Harendra-ji is in Bombay, India enjoying university life like it should be, caught amidst his dreams, his passions and his recently shaved off afro.

Tejas-ji is in Pune, India, exploring "The Civil Cats" with his city neighbor Harendra-ji, trying to find his true education-calling; yet, staying faithful and connected to the film industry in some way or the other.

Ali-ji is in Toronto, Canada, playing CleopatraII (his guitar) better than ever, piercing, eating and studying Computer Science. Watch out for his guitar-skills - he just might become the next big thing. Remember then that you first heard of him here.

Romit-ji is also in Toronto, Canada, living his life to the fullest, becoming sexier than ever without disconnecting from anything he once treasured, which includes film-making.

I am in Austin, TX, USA, enjoying the independence like never before, getting involved wherever I can, and always staying connected to my passions of football (soccer), film-making and people.

Redial Entertainment will always unite us. Technically, it might just get revived and explore our greatest ambitions. Remember Ali, those ludacris-ly ambitious yet somewhat realistic dreams that we discussed of Redial Entertainment in those cab-rides back home?

Someday...maybe.

P.S. Visit http://redial-entertainment.blogspot.com for new updates and video.

Achieving

There were once 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels. They kept running around the University of Texas with only their commitment to a cause holding them together. They all had this yearning desire to spread their brown squirrel-ness among the other thousands of squirrels. The leader-squirrel was the most hardworking squirrel that the squirrel-community had ever seen, in addition to being unbelievably nice and super-unbelievably calm. The vice-leader squirrel was this tiny, cute, little, passionate thing – you’d probably never find a squirrel more principled in life, in addition to the tons of fun this squirrel could instigate. There were also two special-breed squirrels. One of them was the genetically-enhanced-by-the-Squirrel-God “U-squirrel” and the other was the genetically-modified-by-passion “S-squirrel”. Now these 2 special squirrels were like pioneers for the other extremely special, little, brown squirrels. They inspired, motivated, helped and guided these extremely special, little, brown squirrels through crisis and dilemmas. All in all, these 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels were a united bunch of squirrels, functioning together to pervade their brownness throughout the flora and fauna of the University of Texas.

These 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels hosted a cluster of events –from serving brown-squirrel-food on campus to hosting thousands of squirrels in the biggest of squirrel-run events. Oh, how these extremely special, little, brown squirrels slogged their extremely special, little, brown backsides off! All this did not obviously come without drama. There were fights, arguments, clashes of opinions, and cut-throat disagreements – oh, these little brown squirrels were feisty and passionate little creatures! But these clashes were always constructive, and in the end, the best won through, and all the differences seemed to evaporate. Instead, there was this binding brown-squirrel-love that ignited. And then, all these extremely special, little, brown squirrels were merry again.

This cycle of constructive clashes was what made these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels extremely special. But, one day, like a bolt from the blue, Zeus bolted upon these little, brown squirrels, a curse. Oh, how the thunder clouds trembled over these little, brown squirrels! They argued like there was no tomorrow, and they hit an all time emotional low - drama and controversy unparalleled. Life moved on and these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels limped ahead too. They did their duties, but seemed scarred. The brown-squirrel electricity seemed to have dropped by a few voltages. As, the year came towards end, these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels didn’t seem to feel the love.

However, amidst all this depression, something hidden under the squirrelly-covers erupted. The 23 (+/- 2) extremely special little, brown squirrels won the coveted title of being the “most outstanding” squirrel group in the University of Texas for all their efforts. All of a sudden, everything seemed worth it. All the stress, pain, anger and frustration fizzled out only to convert into this great feeling of pride. The extremely special, little, brown squirrels had achieved something of great consequence. There was this sense of deserved accomplishment among the squirrels, and for that moment, the fights and the personal riffs seemed irrelevant. There was this burning desire to celebrate and treasure the achievement.

Treasured, appreciated and celebrated, the moment soon transcended into bitter nostalgia. All the squirrels seemed to look beyond the differences, and seemed to be lost in the memories – the ups, the downs, the laughs, the cries, the fights, the love, the anger, the stress and above all, the squirrel-ly experience.

But, just like how all zeniths have a climax, these 23 (+/- 2) extremely special little, brown squirrels also reached a point of decision. Some of the squirrels felt that they had had enough of the rollercoaster and decided to walk away, satisfied with memories. Some squirrels decided to continue spreading the brown squirrel-ness that they had grown to love. Some squirrels left prematurely, heart-broken and unable to get over the past. Some were driven out and some just drifted away, in search of something different, satisfied with what they had experienced. But, all of these squirrels hoped that there would be new squirrels to take their place and continue spreading the brown-squirrel-ness and wished them the very best of luck. The squirrels realized that just like the American Economy, everything that has a boom also has a recession. They hoped that there wouldn’t be that much of a recession, but instead more of a transition – a replacement, a restart. No squirrel can deny how much the experience has taught them, probably more than any squirrelly book could. Accepting all of this, they ended their united chapter, and looked at starting new, separate, individual ones.

P.S. As the story-teller, I’d say this would make a pretty decent feature film. Anybody want to name the squirrels?

Dancing With The Girl

Long time, no blog? Yes sir – women, dances and a ton of university work. But besides that, between this post and the previous one, lies a phase of life that shouldn’t necessarily have happened but none the less, has enlightened my brain with quite a few pointers on life and women. Here’s the issue – I fall for the wrong girls. The nicer you are the less I am attracted to you. The more appropriate you are, the less I am attracted to you. The crazier you are, the more attracted I am to you. The more eccentrically messed up you are, the more I am attracted to you. I am attracted to those that fascinate me. Sounds good and all? Not really. The fascinating ones I am attracted to are the ones that screw me over. Intentionally or unintentionally? I don’t know - that makes it worse. Add that to my attachment issues and you get a bomb waiting to explode. Your friends warn you to STAY AWAY, and how much ever you respect their opinion, you do exactly the opposite. Hope + Hormones are powerful forces. The “chase” is even more powerful.

Now this “chase” is more than just stalking a random girl - that’s pure, hopeless, horny-ness. This “chase” is more hopeful. There is an undeniable “something”. That spark that you know exists is what makes it interesting. It’s not entirely one way. It might be dominated by one side, but that response from the other side is what sustains the “chase”. Then what gets added to the “chase” is this crazy mind game. Fun fun? No. I suck at mind games. I am too darn open and thus, always hand the leash to the other. I need to learn the game, or devise a new kick-ass one instead. This “chase” does sometime end and transcend into a more fruitful, stable phase, but at other times you get bulldozer-ed over. Either way, you cannot deny the pleasure of the pursuit.

I, like you, also, cannot deny the fun either. In this “chase” of mine, it wasn’t as if I was Mr Perfect and she messed up, I did some stupid things too (nothing unfaithful you drama-seeking mis-judgers). My over-emotional emotions got the better of my general emotions and I let those bastardic emotions control me. Not smart. I over-analyzed and over-thought everything. I over-said everything I felt. I was over-honest. None of that really works. What’s worse is that this situation made me say stupid, dramatic things. It unleashed this sense of immaturity that I thought didn’t exist in me. If I had ever seen someone else say the things I did say, I would have ridiculed that person’s bum off. I felt stupid and said stupid, immature, snappy, unreasonable, over-dramatic, attention-deriving things. That’s scary. But what I am super-scared of is the type of girls I am falling for. There was no real good reason to like this girl and I shouldn’t have. We are two extremes of the spectrum of humanity. We wouldn’t get along and were not getting along. But I did fall for her! I really hope it is some combination bad luck and hormones.

Anyway, “things” did happen and things did fall apart. All for the good, eh? I think so. My friends turned out to be right, and my counselor back in Dubai helped me take it all out in addition to showering her wise words of wisdom on me. My sister told me to buy this book and I told myself to try and never succumb to my emotions again. I regret some things I said and I regret some things that happened, but I learnt a ton. Good enough.

P.S. Maybe a little too personal, this post is not intended to harm anyone. Writing helps.

Nothingness

Spring break is here. Woot woot! Time to parttaaayy! Get those trunks and bikinis out y’all, it’s time to hit the beach! Let’s get high! Let’s crunk it up, hoe! Let’s do this, bro!

Not really.

I am in Dobie, doing nothing, and I am loving every moment of it. It’s this weird satisfaction that you get when no one’s telling you what to do. It’s this no-responsibility, no-liability, do-whatever-the-hell-you-want like phase. You sleep when you want, eat when you want, play when you want, listen to music when you want and do absolutely what you want to. It’s brilliant. I have no family member to be nice to or to respect, I have no chore to do that I don’t want to, I have nobody to force myself to talk to - I have nothing to do that I need to. It is pure freedom and it’s bloody brilliant.

The past year has been awesome, no doubt, but there comes a time when you really just want to sit down and do nothing. All my past life, there has been someone looking over or someone I owe a responsibility too or someone I feel I need to make happy – be it mum or dad, or a friend or some other family member. Not now, and it, for some reason feels very good. It’s not that I despise any of these people, it’s just that I am going through a much needed release - a removal of the load of maintaining yourself for the sake of others, a removal of all the unnecessary drama that I somehow get entangled in, a removal of all silly complications, and just a time to sit down and breathe. It’s a time to do a little introspection and think about nothing or everything. It’s a completely no-strings-attached reason to enjoy myself and my life, away from the people I am always surrounded by, away from the good and away from the bad.

I am not in any way saying that I want this situation to last forever. No, I’d go insane without people – without my friends, without family and without everyone who I care about. But, there comes a time when you need to be away from every single thing, when you need to be alone and lonely. This loneliness is not depressing - it’s mind-bogglingly fulfilling. For me, this is that time.

P.S. I don’t when I am gonna get sick of this feeling – maybe sooner than I can imagine. But right now, it’s beautiful, let me enjoy it.

Euphoria

I had waited a long time for this. It came and is now embedded as a memory, not merely a memory of what it was, but a memory of how it felt. No, it's not sex you over-assuming perverts. It was just a concert. I knew every song and almost every word. Inhibitions withdrawn, I transcended into this swoon of satisfaction, and let go. Almost voiceless and tired after, not to mention deflowered, I finally understood what I could only see on Ali's face at the Iron Maiden concert in March of 2007. It's this weird feeling of how everything makes sense, and everything is so right. I almost can't believe the power of music at times, and the power that live music unfurls is only amplified.

I thank Tarryn for taking me to Houston and back. matchbox twenty rocked the kasbah, or rather the Toyota Center, and I don't care how anyone else feels or felt about it, but I feel and felt bloody great. I guess I needed the release to some extent. I was having a crappy day thanks to the over-paranoid nature that I sometimes seem to illicit within me, but MB20 sorted all that out. Michael Buble, a night earlier, was brilliant too. His concert was more chilled though, in contrast to the energetic, heart-stomping matchboxers. 2 kick-ass concerts in 2 days - I like very much so, lots of.

ICA (& ISA) is bringing Penn Masala's booties down to UT and that should also be fairly entertaining. A Capella is fascinating, eh? Ever heard of "vocal play"? Naturally 7, who opened for Michael Buble, are "vocal players". Ali, you should have heard how one of the dudes belted out a distorted guitar solo. It was unfriggin' believable. I'll post videos on FB soon.

Talking about ICA, a bunch of the ICA committee just pulled an all-nighter to put together the "Swing-Out Application", in our quest to capture the unprecedented-ly glorious award of "Most Outstanding Organization". I was, as usual, making a video - turned out decent enough.

In other self-obsessed news, I and Jason and Tarryn have Bon Jovi to look forward to this April. Ali will probably automatically, emotionally and mentally, message the brain-centers of the world how brilliant a Bon Jovi experience can be - it's a pity how some arrogant, insecure guys frame them as "gay". That's either defensive pessimism or downright superficial. Go die on a prayer, losers.

P.S. 19 feels the same as 18. Birthdays are over-rated.

Fadoslessness

The futility of futility is so futile. I did nothing of great consequence today. That basically means that today, I did no studying. Two important midterms are coming up this Tuesday and I have done absolutely nothing to prepare for the either of them. My bad, all my bad…

I thought Fado’s, this Irish pub on 5^th street, screwed me over by over-charging my debit card. WelI, I thought wrong, and ended up wasting a whopping two hours traveling to and fro from Fados, thanks to a bus detour, only to later find out that they really hadn’t overcharged my debit card. Apologies Fado’s, but WTF Anish?

Ooh, I am going to be shaking my booty for Jashan ’08 this year to some Bollywood rhythm! I am weirdly excited because it’s been forever since I dhin-chakd (danced) on stage. It kinda brings back those young frivolous days but, at the same time, allows you to be mature enough to not get over-conscious about yourself. Essentially, it’s all for the fun of it. And when something this fun can uphold ICA's solemn goal of pervading Indian culture through the roots of the UT campus, then why not go with the flow?

I am going to now print some study material for tomorrow and hit the bed. Screw the studying. If you do something, do it to the best of your ability. I am currently procrastinating, so I will do it to the best of my ability.

P.S. Peace and have a great week.

Satanic Pointlessness

We partied last night. I’d have liked to say we partied hard, but we really didn’t. It was one of those Valentine ’s Day parties – a “red light” party to be precise. No, it has not got anything to do with prostitution you over-assuming perverts. What the “red light” basically refers to is that when you enter, you get a colored neck-glow-band according to your current “relationship status” – red to stay wed (i.e. those taken), green for those who are single and ready to mingle, and yellow to stay mellow (i.e. stay neutral). Super cool, eh? Yeah, right. What they should have also had was pink to wink and blue to screw – would have made the night way more interesting.

Club parties are getting boring. I don’t drink because self-intoxication is pointless, so that basically means that I have to look for un-intoxicating ways to get “happy”. I enjoy dancing, but a crappy DJ doesn’t help with that. What really gets to me about these club parties is the sexual tension that floats in the air. Everyone is checking everyone out in the most sexual of ways. That’s fine I guess, but annoying thing #1 is that a lot of things are assumed. If you ask a girl for a dance, they almost all assume that you are shouting out, “Hey, can I get into your pants?” This might be true for some horny guys, but sometimes, a dance is just a dance. If it does proceed to the pants, good for you, because you very well know that you (and your lovely friends) will not let yourself get into the wrong pants. Annoying thing #2: People hate it when someone who they find unattractive harmlessly flirts with them – it’s “weird”. But, if a sexy SOB comes along knocking on the vaginal door, it’s obviously no longer “weird”. Get over yourself you arrogant self obsessed maniacs! Instead, be flattered by the attention that you get, however “ugly” the source seems to be.

Frat house parties are worse, at least through my lens - taboo alcohol flowing like the “Ganges” (Ganga!), sexual tension blowing like the Westerlies and dancing opportunities only as flexible as the first-stage bicentennial man, does not help. Also, being surrounded by drunken people is funny only to a particular extent. At least dancing at clubs with unassuming, decent girls to decent music is a decent amount of fun; but house parties for the un-intoxicated is only a live, monotonously boring, visual encyclopedia of young people.

We, as in Jason and I, had an early morning today. We walked down to Fados, this Irish pub on 5^th street, at 9 in the morning to watch the Satan’s Children – Arsenal game. Arsenal played miserably and Eboue is going to hell. But the Satan’s Children victory was pretty pointless as it seemed that Arsenal were not in any mood to play football or “soccer”. I have the same views as this guy, so let this guy bore/entertain you.

P.S. We (ICA/ISA) are bringing down Penn Masala to UT. Woot woot! I need to make a flier/hand-bill for their show.

Limp

House is one hell of a television series. The script is, quite simply, breath-taking. So breath-taking, that it literally takes your breath away, and then stuffs it down your lungs with the gustiest of gusts. To add to the breath-taking-ness, Hugh Laurie plays the character of House like a dream. Gregory House is fascinating – messed up in sorts, but principled when it matters, i.e. good. He is bloody brilliant in bestowing his brilliant bedical bisdom on beople. The Vicodin addiction does not take away anything from the brilliant doctor that he is.

Dad, you need to watch this show. Go to Carrefour or Virgin and buy the 1^st season DVDs of “House.” Yes, people do say that there are some dodgy medical facts that the writers do concoct, but that doesn’t really affect the purpose of the show. Being a doctor, you will really enjoy it.

For some bizarre reason, a couple of days ago, on the 13^th of February, a day when I did not blog, my blog got a whopping 200+ hits. Why? Brilliantly stupid, I say.

For all Arsenal fans that do happen to bounce onto this blog, let us bow down and worship the brilliance of Mr Wenger, let us treasure our current 5-point league over Satan’s children and let us pray that we kick Satan’s children’s rears tomorrow. What you also need to do is start reading www.arseblog.com – the all time greatest Arsenal blog. You should also go see the grand old Adebayor rant away about his brilliant form.

P.S. Ali, where art thou?

7-4

I just saw American Beauty. Heavy stuff. It starts of slow, but picks up like a friggin’ Ferrari as it progresses. The whole “don’t-give-a-shit” attitude that Spacey eventually adopts is fascinating, and seriously, why the hell do we care so much about our friggin’ image? Get you principles sorted out and be good when it matters – things become a lot less dramatic and complicated then. On the other hand, people with the loveliest images can be as bad as Hitler and Satan combined. They appear to be as sweet as peaches when you meet them, but when it comes down to what matters, they mess up like how global warming is kicking our rears right now. And the weird thing is, just like our rears, they also don’t really care that they are being such hypocritical, superficial maniacs. Yes, if you think this superficial maniac is you, then it probably is, don’t doubt it, rectify it, you superficial selfish snob. It’s insane how unfeeling you can be at times. Don’t you get it? People are not stupid. They know you have issues – the only reason they stand by you is because they don’t have anyone else to stand by or fall back on. Another reason could be that you’re attractive, and your “friends” have raging hormones. Or, they might have pity on thou sorry self. We need each other, and as everyone is not great, we have to suffice with what we can get hold of. But hey you, good luck finding real, true friends.

If you are not one of these “superficial maniacs” then it’s a good thing. I am glad you have that edge over others to actually care a little for someone else rather than yourself. Everyone is selfish, and that’s our wretched nature; but show a little love and you’ll get a little love. Be genuine when it matters. Then, listen to Bob Marley, and get high on life.

The weather in Austin is weird. It keeps fluctuating like a singer who can’t sing – when the weather hits those flat notes, it is totally ridiculous, but then there are those random sublime notes that makes it a lot more tolerable.

University is “rocking”. I am in control of my classes and I am enjoying the independence. IM soccer is fun, but ICA is just taking up too much time. It’s good we do a lot, but we need to know when to draw the line. “Live and learn”, eh?

Jason, you're ultra cool. Never hoes before bros, I apologize.

My nose is running like Marion Jones with steroids, and is annoying the tissues out of me. Head's a little heavy - don't want to fall sick.

I am bored of blogging like any other random person about minor, uninteresting, forced issues. I hate the formality that seems to be pervasive in the previous posts and I hate the unnecessary stress I am taking over it. My blog=my way. Change is good if you make it to be, just like life.

P.S. Ridicule away you cynics, stop judging things that do not need to be judged. Feel the love generation foooo!

Back 2 School + The Bahamas + New York = Past Month

There was this itching feeling/problem that has prevented me from blogging in the very recent past – A great compulsion to blog about my holiday even though I fully know that an elaborate account will bore the life out of you. So here’s the past month in less than two hundred words:

After end of the first semester and a week with my new-born nephew, Orlando came all too quickly and took me by storm. A luxurious stay in my super-cool uncle’s house in an Orlando resort and a chilled and a family New Year’s with the wondrous firecrackers of Disney preceded our journey to our Bahamas cruise ship. Contrary to my pre-conceived belief that I would be among a bunch of uncles and aunties on the cruise, I was lucky enough to meet a merry group of my-age people with whom I had the splendid pleasure of partaayyh-ing it up on all the three cruise-nights. An awesome week in New York followed in which my ultra-cool first cousin took splendid care of me. The “care” included a Knicks v Rockets game, Hairspray – The Musical, an Ice-Skating trip overlooking the NYC skyline, the NYC night life, delectable dinner, lumps of laughter, a cluster of constructive conversations and one hell of a holiday. Back to Austin equaled a lot of partying and a lot of adding/dropping/organizing of classes/schedules, ultimately leading to this blogpost.

- 180 words (expandable to 1800+ words)

I have this nasty/awesome habit of extracting knowledge from everything I experience, so here’s the extracted knowledge from this past month, which is essentially for me to know and care about, and for you to enjoy or ridicule; but not for you to react and annoy me. So here goes nothing:

[Note: It is advisable to listen to "Arrival to Earth – Steve Jablonsky – Transformers OST" while taking in the following.]

Things are easier said than done, and one’s worded beliefs seldom reflect one’s actual behavior. People should not be judged, but judging them is unavoidable and uniquely pleasurable; so, instead, let judgment not dictate your life and please do remember to leave room for accommodation, for no one is perfect. Good Friends are priceless and are the greatest s u s t a i n e r s. And most importantly, as my man Jason and I concluded, be good, always; because it is only from our bad-ness that hatred and complications breed. But then again, it’s all easier said than done, right? Thus, we establish the loop of imperfection.

P.S. Thank You Ajay Chacha, Vaishali Chachi, Ravi, Shreeya, Meghna Didi & Ankit Bhaiyya for a very enlightening and enjoyable holiday.

Taare Zameen Par Indeed!

So yesterday, after a mega long period of five months, I finally went to the cinemas to watch one and a half movies - A half of "Awake" which does not need to be spoken about and the full of the latest Aamir Khan production, "Taare Zameen Par." Yes, I was friggin' excited, both for the latest Aamir Khan experience and for the replenishment of my cinema needs.

I really wanted to enjoy "Taare Zameen Par" and I did. It was simple, direct and yet, brilliantly creative. The story is straight forward, but intriguing enough to keep you hooked. It is about this dyslexic kid whose parents are oblivious about his dyslexia until the great Mr Khan comes along and turns everything around. People say that it does become slightly draggy, but I hardly felt so. The kid, Darsheel Safary, is beyond brilliant. I really wonder how they pulled out such a convincing performance from this new-young-kid-on-the-block. His rabbit teeth and killer expressions are heart-warming and amusing. He is NOT the cliched kid that we see in almost all other Indian "blockbusters" and that says a whole lot. Aamir Khan is good as usual, but cries a little too much for my liking. I love the way he has this kick-ass Mohawk-of-an-hairstyle throughout the film, but that doesn't rectify his pansy-ness. I guess the Mohawk is somewhat of a decent attempt of bringing out the youthful exuberance of Mr Khan, but I'm afraid the wrinkles get the better of him. On the otra lado, the kid's mother, Tisca Chopra, plays her role so perfectly that no one else could play her role more perfectly that she has - props to her!

But then, to make sure that the "flim" has some Bollywoodness, some of its parts are pretty over done. For instance, Aamir Khan's entry initially takes you by surprise and fills you with glee, but then the "Bum Bum Bole" gets to you. It's almost as if they over-enjoyed shooting the song and thus made it super long. Also, there is a little melodrama here and there, but not enough to annoy, but just enough for it to be lost in the positives.

All in all, I laughed a lot in this film, and at the same time came very close to tearing up. It's intentionally touchy and well sprinkled with outright funny jokes that will crack you up. Aamir Khan, as a director, has tried very hard to look out of the box for inspiration and has succeeded many more times than he has failed. The songs and it's sequences are brilliantly animated and are far from a typical Bollywood film. The subtle use of animation and cartoons is laudatory. The soundtrack blends beautifully throughout the movie and hits the right spots when it comes to eliciting emotions - the song "Maa" is so very touching. I missed my mummy so very much during that song, and the homesickness did creep in...

Beyond the technical aspects, the message that this movie screams out is strong. It preaches equality of education for all children, whether they are physically/mentally challenged or not. It almost ridicules the Indian system of its close-minded, theoretical approach and begs for the introduction of a more creative and practical system of study. It demands the Indian system to tell a child to dwell into his passion and lay more emphasis on it, rather than wasting time mugging extraneous information. The movie delivers this message beautifully and therefore, I think all teachers and all schools in India should deliberately be shown this movie so that it can help open their minds up. I strongly feel our Indian system of education needs to find a balance between rigorous theory and oblivious practical applications. What that basically means is that we need to find a midpoint between the crazy Indian System and the laid-back American/Western High School system, so, umm, shall we?

P.S. Dad, Mum, Gulshan Aunty - please make sure you watch this movie. Thanks.

Nephews & Skies

My first first-cousin's son was born twenty days ago. Buried in finals and paper submissions, it took me twenty one days to get my first real glimpse of Ayan. He is this tiny little thing with one of the strongest necks among 21-day olds all over the world. He spends the most amount of time sleeping, so interaction is minimum, but enough. Whenever he is awake, his father, his grandfather, his mother, his grandmother and especially his Austin aunt take and make great entertainment from this cute little boy. I just wonder what feedback Ayan gives to the Almighty up above...

God, I like Earth. I get everything I need but the funkiest aspect is definitely my cute little bini. My dad is super cool, but why does he keep calling me "gundabachha"? My Austin-aunt is a little crazy, I must say. She thinks I am some "golgappa" waiting to be devoured, and she keeps messing around with my stomach, yelling that atrocious "golgappa" like thing.. No one apart from my lovely Granny calls me by my real name, so I often forget what it really is. Apparently, it's Ayan or something. Oh and my Mum keeps telling everyone to sanitize his/her hands before they touch me - I must indeed be holy. Sometimes my Dad holds me like he is clasping a magnum rifle! Don't get me wrong folks, it's rather comfortable. God, I need to ask you something, why do I sleep so much? What's worse is that I make these weird groaning noises while I sleep which seems to confuddle the general public. Oooh, I have successfully learnt how to create spit bubbles - it's fascinating. And why in the blooming world can't I cry? God, it's like you are taking away my strongest, most useful weapon from me. Please God, you need to sort these issues out for me. I need to be able to cry. But, on the other tiny hand, thanks for giving me a lot of hair on my head - I just hope it lasts forever. I love the glint in my eyes and my ears are huge - I can hear everything (hehe)! Oh, my parents are super techno-savvy. They have this special camera fixed on me while I am sleeping and can monitor me from anywhere in the house. It's cool and all, but what about some privacy huh? Jeez! But, the bestest thing in the world is the 46-inch-television that is going to be coming into my house soon. I have no clue as to why it is the bestest thing in the world, but I can't wait to find out. And oh, my youngest Austin-uncle is super-duper cool. Right now, that's all I know about him. Okay, Mum's coming to feed me - yum yum. See ya!

P.S. The skies of Austin are so very beautiful.

Finals Week & Homesickness

Last week was crazy in a not-so-fun way. I had three major finals and a lot emotional “trauma” [yes, I’m exaggerating, but still] to deal with. The finals were awesome – I got my As and I’m glad. However, my Spanish treacher-er did screw me over – he gave me a B for my 89.53%. Everyone rounds up you fool, why don’t you? Life.

But what really made this week crazy was the homesickness. Way back in summer, I was this young man, confident of being in control of my emotions and ready to belittle the homesickness theories. I cognitively dissociated myself to believe that there was no need for me to return to Dubai this winter for I was this strong fellow who had a ton of related people in the US of A, and who thought that visiting them, instead of going back home, made way more sense. After all, spending ten pocketfuls of money and going down to Dubai for 20 days didn’t make any darn sense, right? Wrong! It makes all the friggin’ sense that it needs to, and yearns for far more attention than I have ever given it. I should have gone back home. I really should have.

It hit me when I saw all of the gazillion people that I know in universities all over the world facebook their excitement of heading back home. Pictures and videos of school and Dubai did not help either. The typical-ness of Mum and Dad made me more nostalgic than ever. The thought of enticing Ghar-Ka-Khana [home food] was agonizing. Ali, the fool that he is, was not helping either. One day before my Philosophy exam, these thoughts rattled my emotions. I stopped studying, got on Expedia.com and started looking for the cheapest possible flights to Dubai. How I searched! I called Mum and told her I wanted to come home, giving her vivid details of how the air-ticket was relatively cheap and how it could all be possible.

Oh, it’s not possible! I was in this emotional delirium which made the ridiculous seem reasonable, and that dragged me into thoughts that my Psychology professors Sam Gosling and James Pennebaker would be proud of. Emotions offer stir up such extreme thoughts and actions. However principled and “in-control” you are, the passion of true emotion can sometimes drive you to do things that you know are in no way reasonable or right. Obviously, this doesn’t solely apply to homesickness. Temptation to do the pleasurable wrong, whence engulfed in an emotional trance – that’s a broader description. It is closely related to “cognitive dissonance” [this wacky term that I learnt in my awesome Psychology class]. Cognitive dissonance occurs when you have two contradictory thoughts, which drives you to choose one and justify it. Didn’t get it? It’s a little complicated – e-mail me if you really want to know. =)

I am better now. The homesickness has subsided but I am afraid that it has only become dormant. I am dealing with it right now, but I will not deal with it next winter because I am so going back home then! At least that’s what I’m saying now. We’ll see how cognitively dissociated I will get then.

P.S. Apologies to those that got bored/annoyed by my usage of certain not-found-in-Wikipedia terms [i.e. Cognitive Dissonance =)].

Postergación y Práctica

Estudiando es muy importante y postergación no es. De los dos días ultimos, tengo perdido mucho tiempo por tocando “X-BOX 360” y disfrutando con amigos. Sé que este es malo pero la vida es así…

¡Tengo tres exámenes en los próximos tres días y necesito estudiar! Más importantemente, mañana, tengo un examen final de español a los dos de la tarde. Yo tratando de estudio pero es muy aburrido, entonces yo escribiendo este “blog post” en español a practicar mi español.

P.S. I write this post to practice my Spanish and with a secondary motive of updating my blog. Translate if you care - http://www.google.com/translate_t

Melting bankPot

It was a good friend’s birthday the other day, and we decided to go to this stuck-up, “posh” restaurant and decorate our stomachs with one of the most delicious of delicious delights that mankind has ever created – Fondue, expensive Fondue.

So, on the pleasant evening of a good friend’s birthday, the seven of us entered Melting Pot, one of Austin’s finest server’s of scrumptious, expensive food. We were treated with great royalty and were led to a nice, round table. The first thing that took me by storm was the “pre-waitress”. The “pre-waitress” gave us a hearty welcome and referred to our actual waiters (yes dears, there were more than one). They took our drink orders, and a couple of us ordered some virgin cocktail. The second thing that took me by storm was that each of these “virgin” drinks was intoxicated with a bulk of alcohol, even when it was pretty obvious that we were under age. Strange, but my friends enjoyed the extra-nice service.

We then placed our order – a three course Fondue Night Special. Starters included two pots of glorious fondue - melted cheese of different types with rich wine and fine flour, and accessory dip-delights that included bread of all colors, beautifully cut apples and some chips of the highest quality. Obviously, the entrees were next. Two large pots of steaming meat fondues were served. Meat Fondue is essentially a boiling, gravy-like oil. We were also given freshly cut raw pieces of all types of meat – salmon, shrimp, beef, pork and chicken to dip into the fondue. The eating process involved us grasping the meat of our choice by our fondue sticks, and putting them into the fondue to cook and sizzle right before our eyes. Once cooked, there was a plethora of sauces to dip into to add more luscious taste to the freshly cooked meat. Sauces included the horseradish spicy cream sauce, the herb butter dipping sauce, the sour cream mustard sauce, the peanut butter sauce and a dozen more. Taken by storm for a third time, I savored every bite of meat and seafood that penetrated my stomach. Little did we know that the best was yet to come.

The dessert was what made the night wonderfully memorable. The two pots were now filled with molten white chocolate and molten milk chocolate. As our waitress poured the chocolate into the pots, the warm, enticing aroma of the chocolate engulfed our nostrils, as we prepared to savor the best of the best. We were given chocolate marshmallows, bright-red strawberries, munchy rice-crispy blocks, freshly cut banana and delicious pieces of green apple to dip into the molten chocolate. As each of us dipped our way into chocolate paradise, we grew oblivious to our surroundings and let the delicacy allow us to reach this orgasmic high, experiencing seemingly eternal joy and thanking the Swiss Gods above for their brilliant gift to Earth. But then, just when it couldn’t get better, it didn’t – the waitress delivered us the bill.

A whopping’ $45/person is what we paid for this mega-expensive meal. Yes, it was delicious, but $45! We’d rather have bought some white chocolate and some milk chocolate, melted them in some melting pot and purchased some marshmallows, some apples and some bananas to enjoy the almost similar “savory” dip. Suddenly, the brilliance of the meal turned to sheer ridiculousness. The orgasmic nature turned to regret – oh why does this sound like a one-night stand? It was no longer royal treatment, but rather an exaggerated, unnecessary exuberance. The perils of temptation that man has successfully created drowned us in this moment of guiltiness. But we shook it all away, because it was one memorable night in the celebration of one good friend’s birthday. And that’s when the extremes ceased to matter, and what remained were the memories that came along with fulfilling a good friends birthday wishes.

P.S. I did get phone-whipped [kind of] by my Dad for this exuberant expenditure, but hey, it’s a once-in-four-years experience. Yeah Dad, I know that’s no excuse – lesson learnt.

Musical Excitement, Etc.

Without any intention to show-off, but with a definite intention to share my future joy is why I write this post The next four months have Michael Buble, matchbox twenty and Bon Jovi lined up on my calendar - Buble on my birthday at the UT campus, matchbox twenty a day after, that is on the 28th of February at Houston, and Bon Jovi at Dallas in April. Excited? Bloody excited.

Concerts, to me, are still quite simply what I said a year and a half back on this blog:

"I would again like to highlight the sheer joy and memories a 1 hour 50 minute concert can give, so if any of you get any chance of seeing Robbie, or any other good performer for that matter, grab it with your hands, your feet, your stomach and everything else that is possible - because it is rare."
-Sunday, April 23rd, 2006.

Yes, I thoroughly enjoy concerts and love getting lost in the music. Obviously, I am the most excited about matchbox twenty. They have been my favorite band for quite a few years now, and however "cliched" or "gay" this sounds, watching them will fulfill one of my many dreams. Bon Jovi and Buble are supposedly great performers - I love their music too, so there isn't going to be any boredom issues there either.

In other news, my laptop's motherboard has quite conveniently, without any reason, crashed, which has ultimately resulted in the tragic but temporary death of my laptop. To add to this disgrace, HP is being a united idiot with regards to my warranty. I will rant and ridicule about this issue soon. Where as emotionally, I am so annoyed with how much my laptop's crash is annoying me. Lord, we have'st become'st so'st dependent'h on'th our'st laptops'sts.

Thanksgiving at Tarryn's was a great escape - relaxing, fascinating and fun! A bunch of finals and paper submissions are coming up, which I am looking forward to only to get them out of my way. Winter plans are done and involve everything but being home. Ali just blowed the bezeezles out of me, oh how I miss him!

P.S. I am writing this post only after making sure that I have the tickets to all three concerts in my hands. Muhahahaha! :)

The Fall

It was on a chilly Sunday morning. Thanks to the ICA, I hadn’t slept much in the last 24 hours. A ton of ICA work had kept me up all night. I was at a friend’s place, working, while the rest of the gang chirped away about the most random of things, throwing in bits of laughter here and there. By 6 in the morning, I was done, and decided to finally head back home. Tarryn came along and I hoped to walk her back to her car, and then sleep away the exhaustion in my cozy dorm bed. But things did not quite unfold the way I planned them to.

A heavy breeze made the dark, early morning chillier. Tarryn & I were walking arm-in-arm singing and talking about the most random things, as we inched closer to her car. All of a sudden, the calm of the cold Sunday morning met with a loud yelp. Our heads immediately turned towards this sound and we saw this body falling from about four floors above the ground. It hit the road with a crunch, a crunching of bones, and then the body lay their motionless. No screaming, no twitching, absolutely still, dead.

Initially, I didn’t realize what had just happened. The shirtless body that fell seemed as unreal as a doll. The sheer magnitude of what we had just witnessed seeped in only slowly - this ‘body’ was of a university student who had just fallen four floors to his death. With his back facing us, we couldn’t see the extent of the frontal damage done, and this mysticism somewhat made it worse. Was he alive? Was he breathing? Had he passed out? My heart started to race like it had never before. I bet Tarryn’s did too, and we both started freaking out, so overwhelmed by what we had just witnessed. There wasn’t a soul around us and we needed to do something about this. I frantically asked Tarryn for the emergency number. “911.” I dialed it instantly. About 3 minutes had passed since the fall when I dialed 911. The emergency officer answered instantly, and I started ranting out details of what had happened, where it had happened and to my self-amusement, why it had happened. She told me to slow down, and repeat the details a few more times. I really can’t recall how freaked I sounded on the phone because I was in flight-and-fight mode. The adrenaline was pumping with fear and shock. I was fairly efficient in giving the emergency officer all the details. She seemed as panicked as me for there was no other reason for her to call me ‘madam, sorry, sir’.

The emergency officer then asked me to approach the body and see if there was any sign of life - that’s when I saw his face. His mouth was oozing with blood, and there obviously didn’t seem to be any sign of life in him. I was glad that the sun was not out, because that would have resulted in a gorier picture. I moved away, fearful, but slightly relieved to hear the sirens that now loomed the air. Meanwhile, three people who seemed to be enjoying a morning run arrived at the scene. They were also, obviously, taken aback by what they saw. They asked Tarryn and me what had happened, comforted us and said that they had no business to be there, and resumed their running. That was slightly weird. A few minutes later the police, the EMS and the ambulance arrived. Tarryn & I moved away from the scene and saw the rest unfold from a distance.

The police marked the crime scene – it was either suicide, homicide or an accident. Obviously, it was most likely to be an accident. A few minutes later a bulky police officer came and asked us a few questions, and took our contact details down. We were the only witnesses, and if this death became any bigger a deal, we would be called in for further questioning. We asked the police-officer if we could be excused for a few minutes to go wash our faces and put on a jumper. He obviously agreed. So Tarryn and I went up to my room, freshened up and came back down at the crime-scene. At about 9, we were still there, on police-orders to stay. We were then called by a Victims-Help officer and briefed on what was happening and what would happen. She said that we could be called in to the police station for further questioning. But what she primarily was trying to tell us that what we witnessed could be a traumatic enough experience to affect our life in university for the next couple of weeks. She said that if we needed any help, we could contact her, or visit one of the university counselors. We liked the support.

The detective finally arrived at the scene. He questioned us quickly and told us to go back home. I think he was trying to avoid us getting exposed to the media, and he did a pretty good job at that, because just as we were leaving, we saw a news-channel van arrive at the scene. I was glad that happened. I was also glad that I hadn’t slept in the past 30 hours, because as soon as I reached my dorm I fell asleep, solely because of the fact that I was thoroughly exhausted. What a day.

The next two weeks were not easy, but not that difficult either. My classes were not affected, and ICA work was keeping me very occupied, but more importantly, distracted. My university did its bit by offering us support if we needed it. That felt good, even though we didn’t actually need any of it. I think the reason why ‘the fall’ didn’t affect me or Tarryn that much was because we didn’t witness it alone. However clichéd it sounds, Tarryn and I had each other. We supported each other, and understood what the other was going through, making everything easier for the both of us. Ultimately, it brought us only closer together. I get scared to even think of what would have happened if I was alone that fateful morning.

Having said all that, the side effects of ‘the fall’ are still there. Late at night, when the air gets chilly, and I am walking back to my dorm, this automated fear starts building within me. Out-of-the-ordinary sounds send chills down my back, bringing back memories that didn’t need to exist. This fear is only temporary though and seems to disappear as quickly as it comes. But what will stay permanently in my head, is this video, this video that continues to loop over and over again. It’s barely three seconds long. But it’s three seconds of something that no one needs to ever witness.

P.S. This is a memory I will not forget how much ever I want myself to forget it. Writing always helps.

Cows & More

My Chinese and Korean suite-mates just semi-disturbed me. They knocked on my door and asked me to come outside and witness something. Gordon, the Chinese one, pointed to a take-away box which had curly and slimy yet garnished food in it, and said, "Try it."

"What is it?"

"It's a cow's stomach and intestine, deliciously savored with garlic sauce."

Gordon and Chol laughed at my reaction, and I laughed back. My religion condemns such actions but their religion almost embraces it. Personally, I really don't care. The only thing I cared about was the ghastly odor that the cow's intestine left behind. Currently, the addressed food sits in the fridge, waiting to be devoured and shut out from contaminating our suite...

*****

I haven't blogged in quite a bit. It's not that I am blogstipated, in fact I have tons to say, it's just that I have been hit by time constraints - majorly. In a nutshell, October of '07 sets out to be the most dramatic and eventful month of my life, and I write that with no exaggeration. From gravitational and traumatic falls to the "biggest cultural event", October might not have had it all, but it did have quite a large chunk of it all.

I wonder if I will be able to write it all out.
Next month, maybe.

P.S. Recently, Austin, Texas experienced a 40⁰F in temperature in a single day. Oh and my suite-mates are awesome . Also, I can assure you that our suite is by far the most culturally and educationally diverse - 1 Korean, 1 American, 1 Chinese and 1 Indian.