chitgo

Decent article on Blah in 'Campaign' - 25th March 2011

2011-03-26T01:33:00.002-07:00

the truth

2011-03-26T01:33:00.001-07:00

I count myself blessed. Having been a part of AIESEC, having visited the country and having made friends (albeit over a relatively ‘shorter’ duration) that I count as truly fabulous – the match on Wednesday is nothing more than 2 tremendously talented teams coming together to thrash it out for a chance to win the ‘cup that counts’. The media’s billing of this being a ‘purani dushmani’, the political drama, the animosity, the abuses, insults and insinuations are shocking and a bit embarrassing. I was far more aggressive in the Australian match because that team embodies an arrogance, disdain, childish and unsportsmanlike behaviour seen rarely in champion sides. They’ve rattled our cage and deserved to be booted out. Wednesday will be epic – but purely as a match, nothing more.

Airtel & Karthi

2010-09-30T03:45:00.000-07:00

mein chal mein chala mein chala

2010-04-24T23:29:00.001-07:00

this song has just taken over my conscious..unbelievably beautiful.

Baap ke joote mujhe, chhote pade...

If this is what 'commercial backing' can do for the creative musician in our country, I'm all for it. Phenomenal. The kannada and malayalam versions are excellent as well.

the marchness of march

2010-03-28T05:31:00.000-07:00

With KWAN now in its 6 month since inception, a great deal has happened in the gloriously large and opportune market of Delhi. Initial phases of difficulty and acclimatization have made way for a certain degree of comfort and confidence in the remaining 3 quarters of '10 where I'm hoping my team and I can single handedly decimate national targets and continue to propel KWAN towards a situation where we are looked at as India's premier solutions providers in the entertainment and sports business. The way we're going, I see that vision turning to reality sooner than later. A couple of days with my colleagues from Bombay that look after the fashion and experience portfolio have reminded me once again, of the phenomenal opportunities that lie ahead.

With this madness ensuing, I've had absolutely NO time to devote to blogging, writing or penning my thoughts down for all of you. The last 180 odd days have been about re-engaging with a life once past and now truly present; brands, strategies, celebrity archetypes and 'pitches' have immersed with man-management, administration and a bunch of other stuff..

The severe lack of time has also been brought on with the busy morning schedule (that inadvertently has me wiped out by 11pm every night) - Squash and badminton have joined the competitive basketball experience leaving me with a great workout but little energy post the workday. I am incredibly blessed to be able to play so many sports at an above average level, big high-fives to parents who gift their children the basics of reading and competitive sports. You're never leaving your child lonely once you've imbibed these fundamentals to a fulfilling life.

In the end of January, with another extraordinary whim (as a bunch of my friends experienced last year), I decided to go off the 'juice' again. This time I stayed on the meats (much to Tara's delight). I found the alcoholic sacrifice remarkably difficult at points. Irrespective, 2 months have now elapsed, and as I write this - I greatly look forward to knocking a few (many) drinks with my home boy GK. In the telly in front of me, The Rajasthan Royals are giving CSK a decent drubbing and look like putting up a decent score. The IPL is unique. Despite the naysayers and question marks on the consumer experience due to brand overkill and viewiing dilution, one has to marvel at the ability of the country to come to a standstill around it. Not until I saw Akhila Blah's flustered/frustrated status message lamenting on the insane length of the tournament that I realized what a pain the damn month and a half could be. Seems to get futile after a bit no? As for the injuries to players, is it not important to draw parallels to international football players who arguably play a more gruelling sport for atleast 2 teams at a time with equally enormous pressures? Mull over that.

The last couple of weeks have also been fun on the movie front. Tara and I went to see LSD on the day of release. Whilst the reviews have largely been focused on the intensity and the dark side of human nature, one cannot help but congratulate the boldness of effort by the directors, producers (big UP to Ekta Kapoor - who knew you could be a rockstar that did more than milk the urban and semi-urban middle class for its love of drama) and string of ensemble characters. I got a bit queasy with the ending of the first movie and my heart silently screamed at the brilliantly captured 'haraamipan' of the Indian male in the second. The third link was rather useless, frankly because I felt disconnected to the story. All in all, I'd say the barriers of Indian cinema have been pushed once again and as Karan Johar remarked in a recent Delhi times article (big UP to him too. Despite making largely crappy movies - the man certainly has the intelligence should he ever choose to use it) .. "movies like LSD prove that Indians can push the envelope, and how!" Tara hated it and wanted to walk out after the first 10 minutes. Rishabh and Chandini did walk out after exactly 8 minutes (although Rishabh told me he was enjoying it.., not sure whether to believe him or not). Niel found it intense as I thought he would and a bunch of my other friends are yet to find time amidst financial year-end and summer holiday planning to check it out :p

The other good movie of this last month was the grimy, action packed and awe-inspiring "Book of Eli". I won't say much except for the fact that Denzel delivers again. The Hughes brothers show us why they are numero uno in this genre. A post apocalyptic look at the importance of a religious scripture in the hands of a desperate human race struggling to attain supremacy of a world run by those with a iron grip of resources. Sounds disturbing familiar doesn't it? A must watch if old school movies like Mad Max (Thunderdome) turn you on. "Eli' is far superior with its cutting edge digital flavor ofcourse. Don't be surprised if you leave the hall with a burning urge to dawn the role of mankind's gunslinging saviour when the nukes are done and dusted...

Whilst I was busting my ass alongside the most awesome professionals in the country (aka my home boys and girls of KWAN), winter gave way to summer. Delhi is now officially in blast furnance mode. Only in summers like the ones we have here can the inside of a darkened room provide so much beauty. My new album of the lost prophets hums tunefully behind me and as I sing "if it wasn't for death, we'd never feel this alive" and I realize - life rules.

Over and out from the waning days of the marchness of march. I'll be back.

KWAN with India's number 1 youth icon

2010-03-23T23:53:00.000-07:00

Making Of Aamir Khan's 'Samsung Guru' Ad

2010-03-22T21:42:00.000-07:00

Actor Aamir Khan, director Anurag Kashyap, lyricist Gulzar and music director Amit Trivedi come together to show a heart-warming story of how mobiles can reduce distances. Catch the making of the 'Samsung Guru' mobile ad in this video.

Oh, and why is this important? KWAN manages Anurag Kashyap, one of India's most brilliant creative minds. He's also the director of what I think is the boldest and most awesome movie of the past decade - DevD.

brilliant article

2009-12-17T04:13:00.001-08:00

Much too long for me to post directly but worth reading for anyone perplexed by the insanity that is Delhi's underbelly.

http://www.granta.com/Magazine/107/Capital-Gains/1

The Urban Habitats Forum Fellows Programme

2009-08-25T09:57:00.000-07:00

•Are you between 18 and 35 years of age?
•Are you interested in the developments that take place in 'your' community and city?
•Have you ever wondered how key decision makers address issues that matter to you, the citizen?
•Have you wanted to make an impact on the way you live, work and play in your city, but didn't know how?

If the answers to any of these questions is 'Yes', then we invite you to apply for the URBAN HABITATS FORUM FELLOWS PROGRAMME. A programme that offers selected candidates a 100% scholarship to attend the 1st Habitat Summit, 24-26 September 2009.

Visit www.habitatsummit.org/fellows for more details or write to us at fellows(at)mirabilisadvisory(dot)com

quotable quote

2009-08-18T03:38:00.000-07:00

On Vineet Jawa's gmail signature:

"The corporate website is an unbelievable collection of hyperbole,
artificial branding, and pro-corporate content. As a result, trusted
decisions are being made on other locations on the internet"

-Jeremiah Owyang

of weekend trips and a thankful existence Part 1 (Mumbai)

2009-07-17T04:30:00.001-07:00

6 months had gone by since I had allowed myself some respite. 4 months had passed since I had consumed the juice or the nucleus. I was just about finding that thin line between passion and cool objectivity. It was time for a break.

Bombay was everything and more- as it has always been. That Friday (the 19th) I checked my watch a few more times than usual over the course of the day. T was already in the maximum city living it up with a frenetic energy that would surprise anyone who knows her in D-town. Her excitement of jumping from one set of friends to another, one pair of shopped shoes to another and one exciting plan to the next had me smiling on the 6th floor of the climatically cooled environ of my india habitat centre office. I was also relieved with the knowledge that the creators would be together as I returned to the city of dreams for a weekend of unabashed relaxation. As I look back, we ended up doing a heck of a lot of things in the short period of time. I headed to the Blahs' right after landing in the now super cool bombay airport. A quick auto ride was accompanied by shrieks of ' get here fast' from a now 'well past her capacity 2 drinks' -T. It was going to be a long, fun night. Reunions with vesky, himank(an old @ friend) and ofcourse akhila along with a couple of jds were followed by a sprint down to HRC. Undoubtedly my favorite place in Bombay, the place was packed to the core. T's friends are an extremely warm and engaging bunch. I realized on this trip how lucky I was to be inducted into this 'scene'. Pure gems. When we finally wound up at the vintage, a bunch of us zipped off to a hotel in the vicinity for some midnight grub. There is nothing more pleasing than pulling off a 20 hour day in between cities with a club sandwich and comedic conversations. Plans had already started to get made for day 2.

Crashed at Niel's and woke relatively early on Saturday. His collection of nonsensical but inanely enjoyable magazines kept me occupied while he had his 4th dental check up in as many days. Note to self: take care of your teeth! The pain and suffering of future issues just isn't worth it (plus it's friggin expensive). We then proceeded to Bandra where T joined up for what was a brilliant and extremely filling lunch at Five Spice (we never miss this when we're in Bombay together, the last time around it was right after a crazy night with these guys and a gracious night spent at her place). The brilliance that is this restaurant can be defined by its location (across totos and at the descent of pali hill), its gargantuan (is that a word? is that spelled correctly? Do I look like I care?) servings and its relaxed ambience. The lunch was increasingly pleasing thanks to a huge reunion with old mc bro - aalekh. His stories from the modelling/acting world (aka tinseltown bombay) were enjoyable to say the least. It was good to see that he hasn't changed a bit :)

From Five spice, T and I split from Niel as we head off to meet with her gang and the much awaited tattoo experience. Now I'm an inked up grandmaster as you guys are well aware but the fact that she wanted one had me slightly jittery. Not because I dont think she can pull it off/handle it but because she does have sensitive skin and getting a tattoo needs to be a bit more of an experience. Needless to say this was mocked quite vociferously :P . T's best friend J took us to this big indian dude (ben?) who spoke like a crack dealer from ghettoville queens. He wasnt too convincing with the tatoo advice but it was the most entertaining 40 minutes of the day. I left in splits hoping that the next tattoo parlour would prove to be a bit more comforting, given the fact that the girls wanted to get inked in a place that didnt look like a 3x3 shanty with a delapitated dentists' chair in the centre. Proceeding back to bandra with 5 of us squeezed into R's redmobile, the conversations ranged from the inability of mumbaikars to speak in our national tongue and the uncelebrated qualities of trust company. R and I bonded like crazy over musical tastes the entire weekend. It never ceases to be a soul connection amidst people that found answers more often in an inspired riff rather than a textbook. The trip to avengers, a night at R's full of random card games and sneak peaks at India's best death metal band displaying their talent finally wrapped up around 4am. With a content *sigh* I fell asleep under the soft humming of the air-con and the delicate reminder of mumbai's oncoming monsoon outside my window. If there was ever an image of tranquility, it would be of a room full of friends - asleep in their knowledge of what they have, and whom they share it with.

Sunday went by in a blur. We woke up pretty late - greeted by groggy faces all around us. The plan was quickly made (thanks to A and T) to jet towards town for the awesome sunday buffet at Not Just Jazz. A perfect setting for the closing hours of my bombay getaway. R & I dropped the girls to A's houee, after which we spent an hour at Niel's as I packed my things. I felt bad about not spending more quality time with him but I knew he understood. Will be making it upto him this weekend when he's in town on work. Not just Jazz turned out to be filled beyond capacity so we decided to dine in the semi-outdoors Pizerria which proved to be excellent. We were joined by T's old school friends, one of whom is an up and coming south-Indian film actress. Loads of jokes, boisterous laughter and discussions around south vs. the rest of bombay ensued. I was not looking forward to this brilliant weekend coming to an end...

As the hours wound down, I slowly began extricating myself from the buzzy sense that was the weekend. J and I knocked a quick beer at a roomy (read empty) restaurant next to the gateway whilst T continued to lament on how she'd love to shift back to bombay someday - soon. She voiced this desire repeatedly on this particular trip. Whether it was having her closest friends in a proximity unmatched the previous 3 years or the sheer freedom of roaming unabashed along the winding streets close to midnight, I'll never truly know. When you love someone, even giving them everything sometimes seems inadequate. I found myself yearning just that little bit more too.

I boarded the delayed flight with a sense of bitter-sweet happiness. My terrible phone connection ensured that my goodbye message to T's gang ended up being delivered 17 times. It probably looked a bit desperate :) but I didn't care. I had to thank them for what was the perfect 48 hours after what seemed like a lifetime of sacrifice and toil.

:)

2009-07-17T04:29:00.004-07:00

UKIBC report released

2009-07-17T04:29:00.003-07:00

A survey conducted by trade facilitation body UK-India Business Council (UKIBC) has ranked Pune as the most suitable place for British investments in India. The survey report, titled ‘Opportunities for UK Plc in Emerging Cities in India’, also ranks eight other cities — Ahmedabad, Chandigarh, Jaipur, Goa, Indore, Kochi, Nagpur and Vadodara — as the most conducive destinations for UK investments in India.

The report is a product of “qualitative research through a process of in-depth interviews, reviews and perception surveys across various professional and social networks”. The report said in its preamble that close to 200 survey responses were analysed and over “150 key informants” were conducted to ensure an extensive and representative coverage.

While the report’s annexure lists 41 cities in the survey's ranking with Pune holding the top rank and Ranchi getting the lowest rank, it provides a detailed study of nine cities that merit UK investment the most.

UKIBC’s CEO Sharan Bamford, however, cautioned that the immediate priority of the report was to take the investments forward by pointing at prospective cities for UK investments.

The rankings are based on physical, social and cultural infrastructure and key economic indicators. Good quality roads, power connections, number of banks, health institutions and colleges, per capita income of each city and market size are some of the key parameters considered for the final listing.

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An intense and interesting project comes to fruition. Will be interesting to see what the response and spin-off from this is in the coming weeks.

shameless promotion: atleast its awesome

2009-07-17T04:29:00.001-07:00

Urban Habitats Forum (UHF) is a public-private partnership between the India Habitat Centre (IHC) and Mirabilis Advisory Pvt Ltd. The Forum is a collaborative platform for multidisciplinary thinkers and change-makers to push for innovation in shaping the next generation cities in India. The Forum aims to mobilise action through intelligent discourse, impactful research and result-driven advocacy.
The Forum shall host the Inaugural Habitat Summit, a week-long event, to develop a vision and blueprint for sustainable urbanisation in India. The Summit will focus on the key parameters thaturban habitats ought to deliver on: liveablity, competitiveness and environmental sustainability.
Register at www.habitatsummit.org

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Champion Cities
The goal of champion cities is to provide an invaluable platform to a cross-section of stakeholders involved in the delivery of mega-sports and cultural events with a special emphasis on host cities in Asia and Africa. The inaugural Champion cities summit will take place in 2009 in New Delhi, which will host the commonwealth games in 2010.
The inaugural Champion Cities Festival will take place in September 2009 and will focus on Host-Cities of Multidisciplinary and Emerging Sports events.

the fire evens out

2009-07-17T04:28:00.001-07:00

You know there was a time, at the point when I begun my professional life as a young student volunteer for a non-profit organisation to my time with the UN to my time with a private equity firm, to two years ago at a sports marketing agency to even 6 months ago with the my current start-up experience when- there wasn't a work-life differenciation. A 7am start meant a compulsory checking of email, a dogged and determined view that a workplace conversation could happen anyday and at anytime. I scoffed at those who yelled work-life balance at the top of their lungs, I cynically looked down upon senior peers who boasted about being able to switch off their blackberries.

I used to ask ..why? How can you not love your work? How can you not want to be running at full throttle 24/7 balancing the brilliance that is professional ambition, success and challenge with the bitter-sweet of life and it's highs and lows. I was a rock with an insatiable appetite for mach3 speeds in the goals that I thought made me who I was in the atmosphere that egged me in further, faster, higher, stronger.

See and that's the the beauty of life. It lets you build your fantasies, your mind-sets and your opinions before laying brick walls of such enormity, of such intimidatory quality - that it forces the DNA that defines your personality to challenge its existence. It forces you to believe you're wrong and re-approach everything you've believed in. This change, it says, can be self-driven or forced upon you. That's where winners lie. In the thin but clearly visible gap between survival and defeat.

These past few months I've been forced to change. I've come face to face with an increasing desire to balance life, to turn that phone off at 6pm, to be comfortable with not checking emails in the dead of the night worrying about the best solution to a problem I know isn't mine. I'd rather make time for that conversation with a friend, that help a parent might need, that movie I might have missed and that song that's left unheard. Yet, in my heart of hearts I know that I miss those old days. Simply because I knew that I lived life to the extreme with the knowledge that I brought value to everything I did professionally whilst striving to maintain a balance personally. I succeeded more often that not because both goals were within my grasp. I know that at this point in my life, despite the seemingly decent value I add, this just isn't mine. I used to hurt from the protracted and disconnected feeling this 'act' would bring, now I am just plain numb. It is time to take some big decisions. Phenomenal opportunities that I have worked tremendously hard for knock on the wooden door of deservedness. Do I have the courage to embrace them with open arms and return to the days of wonder? Or do I continue to be enslaved by a demon that wants nothing but to suck the very soul of my brilliance in an effort to achieve its own, undeserved end?

I have the courage and I have the answer. It lies before me.

Historic

2008-11-10T23:56:00.001-08:00

The recently concluded Border Gavasker trophy shall go down as one of the most legendary and historic series in test-match cricket.

Any Indian fan will now tell you that the Indo-Pak rivalry stands defunct. The clear superiority emerging in the former's level of cricket (no guesses which side of the border I'm on!) coupled with the sorry state of affairs of the Pakistani board, have pretty have laid the yesteryears mother of all battles' to rest..

This last decade has seen the emergence of a new rivalry, one that has all the thrills, spills, below the belt and above the belt anecdotes that one can imagine from fierce competitors. It feels almost funny to use the word fierce with an Indian cricketing contingent but thanks to certain outstanding and outspoken leaders, the country now heralds a new set of heroes, ones that clearly let the combination of results on field ride alongside smart-assed jibes off it. Can I be more proud ? (insert tongue in cheek here:)

This series saw the retirement of 2 phenomenons of Indian sport. One a tireless and gutsy hero who defied the laws of conventional spin bowling and rose to greatness with an unmatched ability to deliver. The other, a revolutionary and charismatic artisan of the sport and its' vagueries; deftly steering India into a new dawn. One which recognized young talent, nurtured skill and backed its instinct to deliver counter punches to the deafening and unending mood swings of the idiotic Indian media, the foolish and knowledge starved indian cricket 'expert' and the growing list of cricketing 'pundits'....the lot of which probably played 5 one-day internationals between them and scored an equivalent number of runs/number of wickets.

I bow to Anil Kumble and Sourav Ganguly. You will be the heroes we speak of with pride and honor and hopefully smile to your stories in the commentary box years down the line. Hold your head up high in this, your last series as Indian sporting legends.

The Border Gavaskar trophy returns home. Many can argue that this Australian team lacked the spit and shine of previous teams but really, those debates are as pedantic as they are unecessary. What matters is that one team was systematically schooled on the way to win test match cricket. Schooled good and proper.

As an ardent cricketing fan, I need no rest and no respite. The poms are next and I wouldn't be surprised if I saw a shiver of nervousness upon their faces when facing this Indian team - it is truly a force to reckon with.

a quarter past

2008-11-09T21:42:00.001-08:00

unbreakable
indefatigable
indestructable
welcomed with open arms
even when unannounced
not quite as maverick
not quite as debonair
this devil now cares

A quarter past

No longer effortless
no longer seemless
no longer casual
in transition
what was once
an impeccable embodiment
of the multifaceted one.

A quarter past

Wisened
hardened
victorious and vanquished
the player who's been played
the heart breaker who's been broken
spoken of
in whispers
raised eyebrows
pointed fingers
sometimes called upon
in memory of a glorious past
in anticipation
of a momentous future
so that they can boast
"we knew him once"

A quarter past.

this month of october

2008-10-16T11:26:00.000-07:00

indiabanao.org
cities a la champions
an oncoming chill
a dissapointment in a loved one
a feeling of age
a sense of loneliness
a midnight surge to create a quality effort

and in the end of it all, questioning repeatedly if it's worth it all?

so much, so fast, so deep. How? HOW?

haunted by a flame, riding on, living on a memory as alannah myles says it best.

trying to break away, riding on, living on a memory.

a great vacation

2008-10-11T02:37:00.000-07:00

Ever since I stepped into college, I’ve realized that ‘living’ has become one big master plan. Yeah, it sounds extremely espionage-ish but it’s not. The life plan has been pretty much all about excelling professionally at every venture I’ve undertaken, creating the right atmosphere within which to explore creative and personal endeavours and ensure that relationships that matter, as well as relationships I’d like to build co-exist in peaceful harmony. All of these have required planning. Strenuous, mind-numbing, often painful and always time-consuming preparation. Which course to choose? Which college? Which girl? Which team to play on? Which battles to fight? Which ones to save for another day? Which friends to chase after? Which ones to let fly? Which insults need treatment like water’s off a duck’s back and which ones to ensure ample retribution from...

Lots of decisions.

2 weekends ago, I threw caution to the wind, let decisions take a life of their own and stretched out with a great gang to the rapids of rishikesh utop the holy shivpuri basin.

Beating the drudgery of pressures – we swam through the rapids, jumped off cliffs, debated on how to conquer the wall and much more. Amidst ming mang mong sessions and a pretty crazy game of kings, 2 and a half days swooped past and I was left feeling almost dejected on the possibility of going home. Believe it or not, I’ve never felt bad about going home after a vacation....this time, it was different.

An enthralling sense of freedom I’m looking forward to having again soon. Plans for the big NYE get concretized and I just can't wait anymore.

the end of a legend

2008-10-07T04:18:00.000-07:00

Sourav Ganguly has announced he will retire after the upcoming Test series against Australia.

"This will be my last series," said Ganguly in Bangalore. "Before coming here I spoke to my team-mates and hopefully I will go out with a winning knock."

Bow down to greatness- Dada, you have and will always be the man.

the patient

2008-09-29T05:52:00.001-07:00

A groan of tedium escapes me, startling the fearful.
Is this a test?
It has to be. otherwise I cant go on.
Draining patience. drain vitality.
This paranoid, paralyzed vampire acts a little old.

But Im still right here, giving blood and keeping faith. and Im still right
Here.
But Im still right here, giving blood and keeping faith. and Im still right
Here.

Im gonna wait it out

If there were no rewards to reap,
No loving embrace to see me through this tedious path Ive chosen here,
I certainly wouldve walked away by now.

Im gonna wait it out

If there were no desire to heal
The damaged and broken met along this tedious path Ive chosen here,
I certainly wouldve walked away by now.

I still may. and I still may.
Be patient.

I must keep reminding myself of this...

If there were no rewards to reap,
No loving embrace to see me through this tedious path Ive chosen here,
I certainly wouldve walked away by now.
And I still may. and I still may. and I still may.

Im gonna wait it out.
Im gonna wait it out.
Gonna wait it out.
Gonna wait it out.

The Patient - Tool

switchover?

2008-09-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

since nomadlife has been giving me some trouble, im blogging here for a bit.

A restless and fairly mechanical week with the UHF and the 3rd of our seminars wrapping up today. The experience is fairly down pat but the desire to hand over that area of responsibility grows fairly considerably considering the fact there are 'other' fish to fry.

A dull headache appears (a feeling had before) with the realization that there is almost always 'something missing' - in every sense of the word. The fact that I was told that "the sort of people that seek ownership for activities rarely ever own anything in their life" was also a little disturbing and putting off especially considering the experience of a conversation that preceded this statement. This is all going to sound fairly esoteric to you- but who cares? I get it :)

There's a desire to be true to form and reduce the corrosion occurring from conformity (taken from 2 bands that I heard a lot of with the latter having a brilliant black sabbath cover...which one it was I forget now)

I saw an old friend cross the street as I drove past him late in the evening. He has become the size of a mini mountain and I regret ruefully that I havent called him in ages. We were supposed to go for early morning jogs and I was to share health tips. Not like I'm extremely healthy myself but yes, the basis discipline and balance is in place.

The plan now is to count backwards from the next big goal...more on that very soon. How it happens, shall be part of the excitement.

it's the little things

2008-09-26T05:27:00.000-07:00

Amidst selling the hell out of a pretty phenomenal news distribution platform, driving new initiatives, hearing of drastic and unbelievable changes amongst close friends (as I shake my head with the platitude of 'everything changes but change' running through my head), finalizing trips to rishikesh with the college mafioso (HELL YES! - october 2nd weekend) and planning for the insanity of the coming 3 months..., I enjoy the little things.

Never Back down - a decent movie on mixed martial arts and the american teenage angst proved to be the find of the last week. Supplemented by a kickass soundtrack, the motivation to stretch that little extra bit in the gym every morning has been found. I can't get enough of feel good flicks :)

Other little things include the arrival of my GOF and barbara Keith purchases (finally!) - both of which I cherish on completely different levels.

D returns after a fortnight of fun in France and London - and boy am I glad. Caught up with her on Sunday over the musings and reflections that only long plane rides can give you. I nodded in frank acknowledgment - been there, done that my friend.

Little things galore. Goa NYE plans being concretized (I don't think that's a word but me, AD and KS used it one hell of a lot back in the day dating 04-05 whilst on the champions league in vikhroli). Should be a kickass 7 days and only a few minor logistics remain unattended.

A fanatical blast of rain beat away the humidity (albeit momentarily) this afternoon and one can only help it's the sign of gorgeous times to come in the northside. More little things.

Ok - now I hear the phone ringing and I've got to scoot. You guys can now think and thank the little things that bring a smile to your face.

peace.

chrome and other things

2008-09-26T05:26:00.001-07:00

The new google chrome has got a thumbs up from me thus far. I am using it as a supplementary browser to good ol' I.E. but with advanced version expected soon, it might just become a mainstay.

What is also super cool is the comic that google has created to take one through the chrome's features and reasoning. Smart stuff!

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Apart from the geeky updates, the last 2 weeks since the return from Beijing have been hellishly topsy-turvy to the extent that I can openly admit to being moody, depressive and damn near neurotic. It took some stabilizing conversations with friends in similar walks of life, the calming influence of the creators, the trust, judgment, objectivity and unconditional love from the partner in rhyme and crime as well as a late night of jamming and unwinding at Mr. Seth' to put things back in perspective. An evolved sense of understanding sets in as well as the realization that direction and focus has to leave one with an image of a horizon that could have been. Multiple horizons with multiple landscapes. Creating the rainbow of my landscape, not to mention the pot of gold lying at the end...

The entertainment and music has been sparse but enjoyable. Rock on was surprisingly good and I can't help but hate Farhan Akhtar for being so damn talented. The guy's got mad skills. ANyone thinking of watching it- should stop speculating and take the leap.

Bombay and Pune for a day this next week. working on building 2 organizations at a time now...I laugh head on with the challenges that lie ahead with a sense of excitement, curiosity and anticipation.

The month of September is an important one. A major birthday, a major anniversary, with some major and minor chords thrown in. Friends plan vacations whilst I struggle with the decision on whether the glorious beach town is going to be visited this december or not. December. That's another frigging important benchmark. Much reflection, evaluation and decision-making on next steps will take place with MAPL. The calibration (or re-calibration) of expectations shall occur at the 10 month mark. Kya hoga?

Got myself and the abode a subscription for TIME, the Achewood GOF, my own copy of the Fountainhead, the 5th HP and a gift for Niel all through some fun net-shopping these past few weeks. The ensuing bills will be a shocker but it was worth it :)

Enough rambling for now. Am helping a friend with one of his MBA essays so shall resume the efforts on that...perhaps this could be me not too long from now ? :) If I know..I'm not telling.

hilarious

2008-08-29T06:40:00.000-07:00

As a consultant - I take offense to the video and song, but still laughed my guts out...

Damn It Feels Good To Be A Banker -- A Wall Street Musical from Leveraged Sell-Out on Vimeo.

encapsulating

2008-07-06T14:09:00.000-07:00

Much time has elapsed since the last major update. The reasons for this have been multi-fold. Buried under oodles of work, traveling across countries and southern beach towns (not that I got to see too much of the beach), reunions that stretch out long into the evenings and an overwhelming sense of 'too much too soon' in terms of expectations both within and without.

A crazy last 4 weeks to put it mildly.

Reunions

DG was in town. I have always admired the man's ability to create the sense that we'd never spent a day apart. An insane reality check that almost 3 years had gone by since we shared the tiny room in vikhroli leading up to the big I-C....Anyways, as always with DG, the catch ups had much to do with food so we head to Oh Calcutta for the first of our long nights of nostalgia. Speaking of Oh Calcutta, the food there is simply out of this world. Get a taste of the biryani and the crab that comes served in banana leafs - melt in your mouth stuff. After dinner (and a long discussion on the average dilliwalas lack of social/civic sense) we scooted over to Debbie's for more drinks. I got some more music of DG (although his taste is becoming softer by the year) and finally bid adieu as late as 3am. I had to fly to London the next night and with DG meeting up with us around 8 in the evening, I just about caught my flight post 4 stella's (thanks to the InBev brand launches in Gurgaon) at TCs with KS and SS. A good night and a great reunion. Fantastic news from DG along with the most insightful bit of wisdom he's ever shared with me in recent times "After a point, when I realized __ was the one, I didn't see any point in waiting around anymore". Amen. Thanks for sharing bro, can't wait to celebrate the awesomeness with you very very soon.

London

I already gave you guys a glimpse of what was the second trip in as many weeks. A tremendous city with a phenomenal cultural melange; I was lucky to have had some extremely insightful discussions on what makes the world's most desirable city click from a couple of locals. This combined with 2 insane projects running side by side and I had my first ever feeling of international exhaustion. I never thought it possible - but it happened and boy was I glad to be back on home soil after finishing off YT and the series of never-ending meetings on the event that is going to capture the state of science in India. Not etirely the topic that captures van chitgough's imagination but the scope has enough in it to be noteworthy of a phenomenal experience. The fingers are crossed that all of this is going to create enough of an 'echo' in the coming months ofcourse :)
Moving along, London highlights included Nando's, the salt yard, brilliant chilling on a sunday afternoon at Hyde Park, The London Eye, the V&A Museum, waddesdon manor, lots of 5 minute stop-overs with the tube-station musicians of all sorts, trips to Oxford Said Business School for a seminar on the politics of inclusion around globalization and finally a cocktail reception with the good doctor on 'entrepreneurship' (he is such a stud) at LBS. On a reunion note (what is a visit without catching up with friends in the vicinity:)), brilliant fun catching up with RC and the rest of the London based gang. Lots of great conversations, walking around embankment and south bank (the former being my favorite part of London) and generally finding cool places to go dancing - shancing after the stupidly early timings that bars close (it's certainly NOT the party capital of that side of the globe). A satisfying trip overall both professionally and personally and Van Chitgough's thumbs up to the city is now official.

JNC 2008
So I got back from London on the 20th. Tired, jet-lagged and with enough follow up work to kill an army of really intelligent consultant elephants (consultephants?), I could have used a couple of days in bed just answering emails and being pampered with cold glasses of nimbu paani and good desi grub...alas,it was not to be. Van Chitgough has been notorious for pushing the limits on previous occassions and in this particular situation, he just didn't have the heart to back out, knowing the consequences it can have for the organizing parties of an @ conference. Hence, on a sunny sunday morning, I packed up and proceeded to pondicherry, for what was going to be a pretty jam-packed week. I underestimated just how maddening and jam-packed it was going to be.
350 youngsters aged 17-22, lots of internationals, lots of activity and lots of expectations. 3 years since my last @ in India conference and I was now back. I was also very very old (at 24, believe it or not!). The organization's gotten wilder, louder and rowdier (or am I just being an old foggy?) but the intelligence, passion and pure unadulterated enthusiasm remains. I think I did OK overall and managed to connect with a critical mass of people. Some more great conversations, moments of hilarity, moments of inspiration and moments of sheer exasperation with the state of affairs. @ conferences never fail to provide a see-sawing sense of emotion :)
Can't put all of it down in words but all in all - I'm glad I went and I'm glad I capped off the core involvement with the organization that's been such a part of my life (uptil now) in the way that I did. From here on, I'm happy to sit back, reconnect with fellow old-timers (or dinosaurs as we used to say in Switz), shell out some cash for support and providing time periodically for advice. Great memories from Pondicherry and it was bizarre to feel that post-conference let down after so many years. It's hellishly difficult coming back to an empty house and loads of decisions/responsibilities/deadlines after being surrounded by a micrcosm of India's screaming youth population in a room for 7 days :) Great memories.

Phew. A lot. So brilliant to be back home though. Spent the week catching up and getting down with the warrior sound once again. Got the realization that I need to get a lot of stuff down on 'paper' and not leave difficult decisions purely to trust. Things change and situations evolve. The manifestations of expectations is best described on ink, rather then through spoken word. I need to push for this to secure mine and the organization's future. An excellent reunion with the thakur who is now back in India for good (giving me an opportunity to visit him in Gwalior :)) along with some late night shenanigans at YBR with the entire college gang. Gosh how much I love those guys.

I'm still up at this unearhly hour, partly because of the blessing in sporting spectacles that was the recently concluded wimbledon final. In all of Lord Federer's greatness, there is something to be said for this 22 year old phenom from Spain. I bow to you ever so gently Rafa. You were the man tonight and your humble repitition of the heavily accented 'thank you very much' during the presentation ceremony was a reminder of just how young you are. Your age and innocence bely the brutality of your game on court. Very few men have won the french and wimbledon back to back; and to beat god in his own backyard takes guts, gumption and pure 'want'. You had it all. Just remember one thing though - god creates his legacy and we've all been reminded of lord federe's return next year. The rivalry continues.

On the aspect of cool web-findings, the crawls led me to find wordle through arthur's blog (the man has mad skills when it comes to finding some stuff).From the website:

Wordle is a toy for generating “word clouds” from text that you provide. The clouds give greater prominence to words that appear more frequently in the source text.

The above wordle is of portions of my nomadlife blog. Would be awesome to see what it comes up with for great speeches, songs and books..

Also, my bro Vijit introduced me to the latest in online radio - musicovery. A good shot at the brilliance that was Pandora at one point of time with the emphasis on moods and branches that connect genres of music.., I'll be giving it some serious trial runs this coming week and will post the outcome for you guys.

chalo, that's about it from me now. A busy week beckons with the creators returning after their 2 week London chilling next Sunday. A big change in the 'abode' setup will culminate the following weekend with my decision to return. A good one I think with the much needed balance being put in place at most levels.

Good night guys. Peace.

quick update

2008-06-15T03:40:00.002-07:00

In London again. Should be a quick trip and it's been fairly eventful already. Some interesting people met and some interesting places visited. Nothing like combining the love of good locations, good company and work at one go.

The Victoria and Albert Museum had much to offer and I even got to see a couple of Turners..

The London Eye was slow but breathaking (despite the damn dampy weather). Needless to say the sun came out the moment we got off.

Lots more coming up in the coming days including Waddesdon Manor and a bunch of crazyness with meetings, YTI and a heck of a lot more.

This time around I'm near Tottenham court road which is a lot more exciting than St. Johns Wood (which was utterly sleepy) so more to see and feel in terms of the hustle/bustle of London.
-----------------

Can't get Panic at the Disco's song 'I write sins not tragedies' out of my head right now..

Haven't you people ever heard of
closing the god damned door?

still here

2008-06-15T03:40:00.001-07:00

it's half past 2.
and i'm still here

somewhere
we're all wide awake
here though
it's stupendously late

it's half past 2
and i'm still here.

is this madness?
or a sickness?
or a hidden affiliation
for masochistic tendencies?

it's half past 2
and i'm still here.

Drive
force
belief
ambition
beyond the call of duty.
What does one do
when the call comes
from nowhere
and everywhere
all together
all together now.

It's half past 2
and i'm still here

What'll make it all worth it?
riches?
contentment?
contempt?
One answer
I'm willing to pay for.

What the hell

It's half past 2
and I'm still here.

In effect

2008-05-29T04:00:00.000-07:00

In effect
I’m here to listen
guide
assist the ride
steady the tide.

In effect
I’ve got the answers
the questions
the poignant yet ambiguous
musings

In effect
I’m sort of all knowing
sort of wise
inner strength glowing
sorted.

In effect
I’m really not
I’m also lost
in the dark
I’m groping
the fading candle
at arm’s length
is all
that’s really glowing.

-Dhruv, May 26th 2008

whirlwind

2008-05-25T13:25:00.000-07:00

As I write this, it's the 26th of May. Before I know it, the halfway mark of '08 would be here. The sheer speed with which time has elapsed could not be better explained than through what has transpired over the last 3 odd weeks. A whirlwind comparable only to some times back in the @ days. Except the stakes are higher, much much much higher.

The problem with not having blogged or taken down the faithful 'notes' (a random reference - Microsoft Onenote is pretty awesome, get it if you're the kind who needs to write everything down for future reference in work/life etc) is the difficulty one faces in capturing it all. I saw some great movies, Iron man being the most entertaining of the lot. London happened last week. My first trip which was in itself a lightning quick 6 days considering the number of range of activities it entailed. That too on a raging temperature and antibiotics for the first couple of days.
Note to self: flying when sick sucks. British Airways has a decent in-flight program though. I watched a random Michelle Pfeifer moving en route to London and picked up the new Tom Hanks on the way back. Charlie Wilson's war. Not fantastic but with enough decent performances to be semi-enjoyable. I think a thorough book on the true story might do more justice on a creative level though.

I warn you, this is going to be one rambling post . I'm in no mood to make this pretty to read or a post that'll merit a return in the future. I feel like typing out some of those from time to time. Tonight however, amidst a slight haze around me, with delhi at it's muggy best and the disoriented bitchyness that coincides the return from a long flight and preoccupation - not to be.

For the first time in these last 3 months, I've experienced the feeling of giving a large bit of yourself to something held dangerously close on a professional level. The investments of time, money and pure 'soul' have been diverse. What is enlightening though is that it isn't as glorious and congratulatory as the entrepreneurial experience is made out to be. It's hard guts, blood and tears combined with the obsession of looking over your shoulder, making sure you're safe. The unknown clashes with the surroundings. Whilst there's no time to ponder and compare, the stories of the conventional are all around. The B-school entrants, the wasted lunatics that jump from one scholarship/institution to another with an insatiable need to soak in the academic experience, the self-righteous yet monotonously cheerful cogs in the multi-national wheel of fortune (does this sound derogatory ? because it's really not meant to be); the list is long and endless. This trip re-opened my eyes to situations I had shut off a long time ago. I had no desire to percieve the merit of my choices, there choices, yet I did. The result is supreme and unadulterated relief to be back home. Strum the guitar and rue the time lost originally dedicated for song-writing. That HAS to happen. It is going to be the savior amidst rocky times to come. The thing with rocky times is that there are some pretty lofty peaks. The lows I've almost been able to handle. It's when those peaks don't reach my expectations that things begin to look dreary.

Some elements have been sacrificed on the professional front . Why is it that pure dogged professionalism and excellence can't go hand in hand with a culture of comfort? I look forward to BS returning. Music holds many answers. I repeat- the savior.

Met Bee on the last day in London. Was an excellent reunion amidst a bit of tension. Thievery exists everywhere. Anyway, catching up with her was excellent. Stories of the year, road-maps of near and dear friends and as always- the future. Relationships, evolution, nostalgia. Over 2 hours with club sandwiches and tea. It was a nice closing to a crazy trip. I'll see more of you next time London. I think I owe you that much.

The sickness still holds on tight. I haven't enjoyed the sense of having taste buds for a week now. Characterizing food types on the basis of texture gets old after awhile. A pretty disgusting feeling to have. I can only pray and hope that it doesn't last long.

Onto more positive reminiscing. There were some awesome birthdays. D threw a killer scene for Ro to celebrate his 25th. I had spent the day shifting into KS' place and was fatigued of mind and body upon entering (late- for which I was lambasted to some extent). More then made up for it with random socializing and playing semi-host (which has become an invaluable skill that has been honed from a young age). Passed out and woke up with a start at the crack of dawn (well 7am really).

krant's bday followed a week later. Urban Pind has skills although apart from Thursday- the local spin king needs a check up from the neck up. Once again amidst a heavy week of work which led to the breakdown of the immune system. Extremely pissed off with myself for not having taken care of myself better, not having the ability to say no and not striking the balance which usually keeps me sane. I go back to that 'drive' which has emerged to make the most of 'this'. Not at the cost of Ma santé though. No way.

The new abode has been largely comfortable although I don't know how long the current set-up will last. Let's see. I finally need to get one of these because work demands it. Another investment but I'm sure I'll manage the much-needed balance with 24/7 on-call availability for all and sundry...

A closing word of advise to anyone reading this- DONT watch the darjeeling express or the darjeeling limited or whatever the hell its' called. Possibly the most pathetic movie of ALL time. I don't know why me and T do this to ourselves. Serious addicts with no quality control is what we've become...:)

June is upon us. A very important birthday draws near (thank the stars for you baby:)) and the visit of another old friend pumps up the excitement.

Is this release or mearly me enacting 'much ado about nothing'?

later alligator

2008-05-07T23:29:00.001-07:00

Tonight's the last night at the abode of the last 2 years. As me and the phenomenon (V) sipped on our carlsberg's whilst beholding the arificially 'starlit' gurgaon skyline last night, we celebrated the independant goodness of the 2 years spent here.
It had been a blast. Ad-hoc @ parties, surprise birthday cakes, late night (and early morning) thievery of precious H2O from the neighbors, the see-sawing attendace of the variety of domestic help we employed, the tiffin that went from bad to good to worse to edible (or did our palate change?) , the guests from around the world, the sweaty nights that were the pre-invertor days, the fun of doing up our rooms (and the simplicity of the remaining portions:)), the fights over shared responsibilities, the late night returns in a state of inebriation...aah the list is long. And sweet.
Thanks V-28/15a - whilst you were bizarre in your construction, you gave me the distance and yet the proximity I needed post my return to the motherland. Come Saturday - you return to your naked origins. Take care of yourself.
Years later, I might drive by and point out the awesome balcony that is your exterior to the next generation of le chitgos. We might even come up to say hello.

no ordinary problem..

2008-04-30T00:18:00.000-07:00

Update: Article written by Thomas Barlow from the Financial Times

Waiting for Michel to tell me who wrote this piece. Irrespective, a pretty interestingly captured look at 'our' current generation. Disclaimer that this will not resonate with everyone that reads this blog. A large cross-section of people I know don't nearly relate to the sense of ambition or the 'problems' the author speaks of below, irrespective- an insightful read.

A friend of mine recently met a young American woman who was studying on
a Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford. She already had two degrees from top US
universities, had worked as a lawyer and as a social worker in the US,
and somewhere along the way had acquired a black belt in kung fu. Now,
however, her course at Oxford was coming to an end and she was
thoroughly angst-ridden about what to do next.

Her problem was no ordinary one.

She couldn't decide whether she should make a lot of money as a
corporate lawyer/management consultant, devote herself to charity work
helping battered wives in disadvantaged Communities, or go to Hollywood
to work as a stunt double in kung fu films. What most struck my friend
was not the disparity of this woman's choices, but the earnestness and
bad grace with which she ruminated on them. It was almost as though she
begrudged her own talents, Opportunities and freedom - as though the
world had treated her unkindly by forcing her to make such a hard
choice.

Her case is symptomatic of our times. In recent years, there has grown
up a culture of discontent among the highly educated young something
that seems to flare up, especially, when people reach their late 20s and
early 30s. It arises not from frustration caused by lack of opportunity,
as may have been true in the past, but from an excess of possibilities.

Most theories of adult developmental psychology have a special category
for those in their late 20s and early 30s.

Whereas the early to mid-20s are seen as a time to establish one's mode
of living, the late 20s to early 30s are often considered a period of
reappraisal. In a society where people marry and have children young,
where financial burdens accumulate early, and where job markets are
inflexible, such appraisals may not last long. But when people manage to
remain free of financial or family burdens, and where the perceived
opportunities for alternative careers are many, the reappraisal is
likely to be strong.

Among no social group is this more true than the modern, International,
professional elite: that tribe of young bankers, lawyers, consultants
and managers for whom financial, familial, personal, corporate and
(increasingly) national ties have become irrelevant. Often they grew up
in one country, were educated in another, and are now working in a
third.

They are independent, well paid, and enriched by experiences that many
of their parents could only dream of. Yet, by their late 20s, many carry
a sense of disappointment: that for all their opportunities, freedoms
and achievements, life has not delivered quite what they had hoped. At
the heart of this disillusionment lies a new attitude towards work.

The idea has grown up, in recent years, that work should not be just a
means to an end a way to make money, support a family, or gain social
prestige but should provide a rich and fulfilling experience in and of
itself. Jobs are no longer just jobs; they are lifestyle options.
Recruiters at financial companies, consultancies and law firms have
promoted this conception of work. Job advertisements promise challenge,
wide experiences, opportunities for travel and relentless personal
development.

Michael is a 33-year-old management consultant who has bought into this
vision of late-20th century work. Intelligent and well-educated - with
three degrees, including a doctorate - he works in Munich, and has a
"stable, long-distance relationship" with a woman living in California.
He takes 140 flights a year and works an average of 80 hours a week.
Some weeks he works more than 100 hours.

When asked if he likes his job, he will say: "I enjoy what I'm doing in
terms of the intellectual challenges." Although he earns a lot, he
doesn't spend much. He rents a small apartment, though he is rarely
there, and has accumulated very few possessions. He justifies the long
hours not in terms of wealth-acquisition, but solely as part of a
"learning experience".

This attitude to work has several interesting implications, mostly to do
with the shifting balance between work and non-work, employment and
leisure. Because fulfilling and engrossing work - the sort that is
thought to provide the most intense learning experience - often requires
long hours or captivates the imagination for long periods of time, it is
easy to slip into the idea that the converse is also true: that just by
working long hours, one is also engaging in fulfilling and engrossing
work. This leads to the popular fallacy that you can measure the value
of your job (and, therefore, the amount you are learning from it) by the
amount of time you spend on it. And, incidentally, when a premium is
placed on learning rather than earning, people are particularly
susceptible to this form of self-deceit.

Thus, whereas in the past, when people in their 20s or 30s spoke
disparagingly about nine-to-five jobs it was invariably because they
were seen as too routine, too unimaginative, or too bourgeois. Now, it
is simply because they don't contain enough hours.

Young professionals have not suddenly developed a distaste for leisure,
but they have solidly bought into the belief that a 45-hour week
necessarily signifies an unfulfilling job. Jane, a 29-year-old corporate
lawyer who works in the City of London, tells a story about working on a
deal with another lawyer, a young man in his early 30s. At about 3am, he
leant over the boardroom desk and said: "Isn't this great? This is when
I really love my job." What most struck her about the remark was that
the work was irrelevant (she says it was actually rather boring); her
colleague simply liked the idea of working late. "It's as though he was
validated, or making his life important by this," she says.

Unfortunately, when people can convince themselves that all they need do
in order to lead fulfilled and happy lives is to work long hours, they
can quickly start to lose reasons for their existence. As they start to
think of their employment as a lifestyle, fulfilling and rewarding of
itself - and in which the reward is proportional to hours worked -
people rapidly begin to substitute work for other aspects of their
lives.

Michael, the management consultant, is a good example of this
phenomenon. He is prepared to trade (his word) not just goods and time
for the experience afforded by his work, but also a substantial measure
of commitment in his personal relationships. In a few months, he is
being transferred to San Francisco, where he will move in with his
girlfriend. But he's not sure that living the same house is actually
going to change the amount of time he spends on his relationship. "Once
I move over, my time involvement on my relationship will not change
significantly. My job takes up most of my time and pretty much dominates
what I do, when, where and how I do it," he says. Moreover, the
reluctance to commit time to a relationship because they are learning so
much, and having such an intense and fulfilling time at work is
compounded, for some young professionals, by a reluctance to have a
long-term relationship at all.

Today, by the time someone reaches 30, they could easily have had three
or four jobs in as many different cities - which is not, as it is often
portrayed, a function of an insecure global job-market, but of choice.
Robert is 30 years old. He has three degrees and has worked on three
continents. He is currently working for the United Nations in Geneva.
For him, the most significant deterrent when deciding whether to enter
into a relationship is the likely transient nature of the rest of his
life. "What is the point in investing all this emotional energy and
exposing myself in a relationship, if I am leaving in two months, or if
I do not know what I am doing next year?" he says.

Such is the character of the modern, international professional, at
least throughout his or her 20s. Spare time, goods and relationships,
these are all willingly traded for the exigencies of work. Nothing is
valued so highly as accumulated experience. Nothing is neglected so much
as commitment. With this work ethic - or perhaps one should call it a
"professional development ethic" - becoming so powerful, the globally
mobile generation now in its late 20s and early 30s has garnered
considerable professional success. At what point, though, does the
experience-seeking end?

Kathryn is a successful American academic, 29, who bucked the trend of
her generation: she recently turned her life round for someone else. She
moved to the UK, specifically, to be with a man, a decision that she
says few of her contemporaries understood. "We're not meant to say: 'I
made this decision for this person. Today, you're meant to do things for
yourself. If you're willing to make sacrifices for others - especially
if you're a woman - that's seen as a kind of weakness. I wonder, though,
is doing things for yourself really empowerment, or is liberty a kind of
trap?" she says.

For many, it is a trap that is difficult to break out of, not least
because they are so caught up in a culture of professional development.
And spoilt for choice, some like the American Rhodes Scholar no doubt
become paralysed by their opportunities, unable to do much else in their
lives, because they are so determined not to let a single one of their
chances slip. If that means minimal personal commitments well into their
30s, so be it. "Loneliness is better than boredom" is Jane's philosophy.

And, although she knows "a lot of professional single women who would
give it all up if they met a rich man to marry", she remains far more
concerned herself about finding fulfillment at work. "I am constantly
questioning whether I am doing the right thing here," she says. "There's
an eternal search for a more challenging and satisfying option, a better
lifestyle. You always feel you're not doing the right thing always feel
as if you should be striving for another goal," she says.

Jane, Michael, Robert and Kathryn grew up as part of a generation with
fewer social constraints determining their futures than has been true
for probably any other generation in history. They were taught at school
that when they grew up they could "do anything", "be anything". It was
an idea that was reinforced by popular culture, in films, books and
television.

The notion that one can do anything is clearly liberating. But life
without constraints has also proved a recipe for endless searching,
endless questioning of aspirations. It has made this generation obsessed
with self-development and determined, for as long as possible, to
minimise personal commitments in order to maximise the options open to
them. One might see this as a sign of extended adolescence.

Eventually, they will be forced to realise that living is as much about
closing possibilities as it is about creating them.

Indulgence of all kinds

2008-04-27T05:20:00.000-07:00

T’s exams usually bring a relative lull to the ‘socially-attuned’ weekends. The words appear in single inverted commas because of the long standing joke between us that I am now positively asocial compared to my earlier days. It’s rather brilliant this way though. Who would have known?

The last week was an indulgence of all kinds.

Our seminar launched our partnership with the IHC (if you’re on facebook, go ahead and join the Urban Habitats Forum, it is positioned to become the next all-encompassing network dealing with the opportunity of building the next generation of cities in India) and I was pretty much sold on the organizing, fine-tuning of the same till Wednesday. An interesting turnout with varying opinions. The focus on urbanization has raised its’ fair share of clichés but we’re hopeful that the direction we give it ends up creating new paths to the effort of ‘creating places for people’. I embrace that theme, warmly. It just makes so much sense.

The last week was an indulgence of nostalgia, reconnecting, self-congratulatory pats on the back and gratitude. The third year of the International Congress Scholarship kicked off and as always- van chitgo forgot that he had zealously volunteered to manage the process this year. I’m so glad I did. Pani from Singapore/Bangalore, Dandy from China, Sneha from Paris; all writing and calling in. Jaj and Adrienne were missing in action but I know they’re keeping abreast with the dialogue. With the likes of the 2 of them it’s almost like being reminded of the great sages of the past. They believed that any word spoken, any breath taken without absolute necessity, was a wasted opportunity to take the name of the lord in prayer and meditation. Fortunate were we that the ‘Lord’ in this case was common sense and vision. Anyways, I digress. Back to the scholarship. Every year, one chosen congress committee member from AIESEC India gets a significant monetary scholarship institutionalized by the CC team of IC 05, i.e, my team . We’ve had 2 excellent recipients already creating waves post their experience with the mother of all conferences. Now, in '08, it’s time for number 3. Talking to Dandy and Sneha, I was filled with such a sense of happiness and consequent understanding of how legacies really work. It could very well be termed the cornerstone of sustainable action. Whatever it may be, year after year, the process brings together a small but very diverse group of people that worked their butts off for a goal much larger then themselves. Can there be a better learning?

The last week was an indulgence in what I love. Music and path-breaking literature.

I picked up the great outdoor fight- arguably the most brilliant graphic novel in the short history of graphic novels on this planet. Unarguably, GOF is the pinnacle of ground-shattering alterno-humour we’ve ever been witness to. I got it at a pretty decent price since it’s still not out in official print. 11$ - not bad for a piece of work as phenomenal as it is. I even showed off to Gara who responded with his usual magnanimity. I’m sure he booked his own copy soon after. I owe the discovery of achewood to him. It is righteous that the first strip of achewood I ever read was that of TGOF.

Indulgence number 2 was the final purchase of Barbara Keith’s self title album. Frankly, I picked this up for one track and one track only. Heard numerous times in the awesome snugness of Mr. Seth’s beautiful home, the rendition of ‘all along the watchtower’ that I have spoken of before is a piece of sheer beauty. The muted guitar, her salutations to the lord chief himself, whatever it may be- it was worth the amazon.com visit.

It was in light of this indulgence that the unmatched awesomeness of web-retail therapy dawned on me. It’s not like the usual retail therapy you know. The conventional methodology has multiple cracks in the model. Had a shitty day? Feeling old and disregarded? An overwhelming desire to hug some bling, feel something new and shiny in your pocket? Embrace a new tune? Jump in a car, go to the mall, window shop , feel guilt pangs, , interact with annoying customers/lines/salespersons alike...blah blah blah.

Why ?

Web retail totally kicks regular retail’s posterior. The easy browsing, the multiple links to reviews of the product, the samples, the choice, the easy access- a list that is long and sweet. The best however is the delivery. With no exact day of arrival you forget that you had ever ordered that brilliant work of art. You forget the sense of power with that click of the mouse and you move on. Suddenly, one Saturday morning in the distant future, there’s a ring at your front door. You wander unknowingly to greet the visitor and there it is, waiting for you patiently, like a ticking time bomb of fantabulousness. What a feeling.
Ok, so I exaggerate a bit. I still love buying stuff online though. The pleasures of a bank account are indescribable muwahahaha.

What else? Pet piece of the fortnight is undoubtedly the idiots that leave facebook messages on event forums/communities saying “Hey, would love to come but am out of the country!” We got it ass@#$%, you’re travelling. For what reason you’d decide to share your absence for an event that you’ve been fortunate enough to be invited to and why anyone would care is beyond my understanding. The downside of web 2.0 is the voice we’ve somehow managed to give attention-starved delinquents. Meh. Some people are damn fortunate we have such stringent gun-ownership laws in this country.

The heat is on., Like full on. And it’s not even May yet. Lots of new developments in the horizon with some confusion existing with where and how the new ‘abode’ shall be situated. Updates on that soo enough. As of now, it’s a lazy Sunday evening, the delhi daredevils are 4 down for 60 runs there's need to go shoot some hoops before the start of another hectic week for the entrepreneur.

Over and out ladies and gents. You guys have a good one.

creating places for people

2008-04-10T23:18:00.000-07:00

Things have gotten busy. Not busy like the way they used to be, its different somehow. Working in a pure start-up environment is really all it’s made out to be. Challenges, changes, excitement, risk, concern- truly a medley of situations within a concoction of experiences. All this in the last 40 days. Positive point number 1 is that there aren’t any signs of grey hair just yet, the initial assimilation of the environment has been smooth and finally- there’s a heightened sense of belief in what opportunities lie ahead. Needless to say, the time period accompanying a major change always goes by so damn fast. I can safely say that the months of Feb, March and April from 2002 to 2008 have been a blur. They’ve always been decision making time, inexplicably hosting transitional phases and adding years to the wisdom of how one ‘pushes the limits’

I’ve found time in between to do the things I love though. The guitar rocking continues on in anticipation of Lord Seth’s return. Badminton at Gita’s place is an occasional must, my game isn’t nearly as good as it used to be but the sporadic presence on the doubles court reminds the crowds of what it means to behold pure skill. Hell yeah, the cross court behind the head drop shot is still a work of beauty.

The most interesting of engagements recently was one put together by a fellow boss dawg – Udit. An alumni from Don Bosco, he’s created an annual half-day seminar for students between the age of 15-16 (in Indian education systems, this is the time when most kids choose their ‘specializations’ from between the arts, commerce and sciences) that allows them to hear from and interact with young professionals with diverse backgrounds. These last few years have got me feeling pretty passionate about these subjects and a recent trip back to my alma mater (DPS RKP) with the Asia Society folks led me to accepting. I put together a short presentation in my distinct style; threw in a few inspirational videos, a couple of anecdotes and basically set out to challenge the mindset of the current generation around how they thought they’d like to see their individual growth charts shape up. The discussions stayed lively but the real impact point came when I threw this idea to the group:

The slide heading read “ What makes you happy?”

The bullet points below it read:
- Money?
- Friends?
- Travelling?
- Respect?
- Authority?
- Being your own boss?
- Leadership?
- Challenges?
- Uniqueness of experience?

So the discussions started. Couple of kids in the front got up and said “why is uniqueness of experience so important?, I’d rather do something my parents/society respects so that I can hold my stature in society”. I helped them debate their own thoughts, gave them examples of various vocations/occupations that delivered tremendous learning opportunities as well as financial security. We went back and forth, the topic obviously resonated with them at some level. Yes, as young people we’re told to find a purposeful role in society, but no one’s really making an effort to help us answer 2 simple questions- ‘How do I know what I enjoy doing?” & “Why would I enjoy doing it?”
The discussion evolved till Moses got up. Yup, his name was Moses. Shirt loosely tucked into his trousers, tie hanging from his neck, hair slightly rumpled- the kid was a 100% me back in the 11th grade. Just how alike we would turn out to be, I was to find out in a few moments.

“Sir honestly, I don’t think I need anything on your list to make me happy except one- Money. If I have money, I can buy friends, I can buy respect, I can buy authority and I can choose to do what I want. Who needs leadership, challenges and uniqueness when I can have money?”

I forced myself not to smile. These are serious questions and define pretty serious elements of our society today. We’re bringing up a generation (I was exactly like this) that’s losing sight of themselves in pursuit of a lifestyle. The media attention that focuses on the glitz & glamour of high-flying lifestyles is failing to talk of more real elements like attaining a personality. In fact, its 2 extremes. Either we’ve got life-gurus urging us to leave it all behind for a 10-year hiatus off the coast of Madagascar amidst some shrubbery, or we’ve got wall street profiling the next big investment banker/ million dollar package of the IIMA/IIT student. Someone’s got to tell these kids that there’s a life in between. There is a grey. From a marketing perspective, everyone wants to be a Microsoft but noone's realizing there's a joy in being brand Linux or Brand Apple- with all the perks thrown in! There is a balance- and it is this balance which offers the most of all. I’m not saying one doesn’t have to push frantically in a certain direction from time to time or make sacrifices for an ambitious pursuit, all I’m saying is that it pans out. It has to. A lack of balance is the biggest cause of unhappiness on the long run.

Me and Moses debated for about 10 minutes. I asked him if the friends he ‘bought’ were the kind of friends he wanted. There were jokes and there was some banter from the crowd. In the end, I told him to call me in 10 years to let me know how the plan had panned out. I look forward to that call.

I left the kids with this list – entitled “Dhruv’s basic list towards planning a career”

• Never, EVER be afraid to ask questions
• Things ‘sound’ a lot fancier then what they actually are.
• Building expertise in an area is vital!
• It’s not all about the money! Your quality of life index is as important as your ‘well-being index’
• Experiences are what matter at your age. Try everything and anything.
• Knowing what you don’t want to do is as good as knowing what you do want to do.

What would you guys add to this?

Musically, van chitgo has been treated to some brilliance recently. I saw clips of the Guardian with the creators recently and was once again hauntingly attracted to this voice and muted guitar expertise in the background of the scene when Kevin costner’s swimming alone in the pool timing himself after every lap. I downloaded the soundtrack (thank you mininova and torrent files- mininova.org) and heard the first 60 odd seconds of each track. Straining hard. Suddenly, with the conclusion of a short but captivating piano solo, was her voice. The myspace profile speaks volumes of Abby’s experience and her growth as a musician. Tri-me is especially brilliant, one of those songs that I’d want to hear whilst sitting on a thick armchair in a large patio amidst the smell of old Cubans and mahogany furniture. A song of strength, experience and wisdom. Sung by someone so young. How music transcends conventionality amazes me. Check out the other tracks as well- they are all worth a listen. The plan now- is to try and figure out how to see her play live : )

All else has been great. Working on a seminar for the 23rd of April that should boast of an interesting format. “Creating Places for People” is the theme and urbanization is the context. If you happen to be in Delhi and are driven by the idea of ‘liveable cities’ that join social, physical and cultural infrastructure in a manner that spurs growth of communities, then let me know, I’d be happy to send you an invite.

Take care yawwlll.....

the worst OS..ever!

2008-03-28T03:22:00.001-07:00

I had to upgrade my laptop. I had to be a moron and embrace evolution and new software and that shiny new interface they boasted of...

And what did I get?

The Vista. Windows VISTA.

The most unbelievably SHITTY and F!@#$ed up Operating system in the history of this planet. This makes windows 3.1 seem like a time when Eutopia had visited us with a lifetime supply of strawberries and cream. As Roast beef once said, talk about an OS that basically has AIDS. No usability, none of the user-friendly features of the 38490328493289234 versions before this, no easy access to any programs, slower then a snail on manala cream (that's deadly potent marijuana for the unitiated) and weaker at the joints then Samuel L Jackson in unbreakable.

Screw you microsoft. You've proved your point alright? Shitty products sell. They sell like hot cakes. Just remember that when you find yourself in hell, the program they're going to be using to manage your utter damnation will be Windows Vista.

This blog turned 3 years old this month btw :)..something to smile about!! :) Happy bday my beauty. Everyone loves you.

quite a holi!

2008-03-23T02:17:00.000-07:00

It had been a few years for both me and T. For me because of an exit from the country/city of true holi revellers over a few years and for T, a clear lack of interest with the festival of color and the accompanying irritants ;)

I continue to be a 'bad influence' on her though! A brilliantly fun day with bhaang, beers, good friends, jives, a swiss gangster that showed a few indians how to get with it and lots of chilling.

The pictures try hard to capture some of the scenes...guess you had to be there!

The evening was andhra bhavan (recounting when trent sweat off half of his body weight trying to handle a chicken fry) followed by a killer game of charades at Tan's with a battle of the genders. I won' say who won 'cos there was a clear lack of integrity over the course of the game and noone believed me when I said "Kamikaze 4: The story of the suicide bomber of Jalapeno" was indeed a cult classic.

You guys have seen it right?

delhi skies

2008-03-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

Your anger
sultry
your cold shoulder
bitter
when you rain down
you show me
pain ain't no quitter

As I look to you
to shelter my dreams
I sense the wind
through the trees
not unlike those down below
you too
are a reluctant hero.

You wear the speckled starlight
as your disguise
i know you're seeking
what we're trying to hide
it's your reprise
no surprise..

dont you see through my lies
my tearful goodbyes
i can hide from it all
but not you
my all knowing skies..
my Delhi skies...

reunions rule

2008-03-09T01:55:00.000-08:00

They well and truly do. the Swiss maestros continue to grace us with their presence- this time it being Cileia and Michel; the former being coerced into visiting the country post her Pakistani sojourn and the latter coming into study first hand the BOP concept with a dutch multinational.

Phenomenal fun to say the least. Van Chitgough did his best to combine cultural exposure with pure chilling in a night that once again made me realize just how lucky one has been to be exposed to multiple worlds across multiple geography. Needless to say, the little jewel in the heart of western europe is undoubtedly my most loved...I will return soon, just as I promised! And in the meantime, I cherish every chance to reconnect with friends like these...

Dimpy Menon's work was even more impressive up close. When one is close to subject as I have been these last few weeks through some very minor assistance to the exhibition- one tends to get a bit more involved then usual. I arrived at the open palm in Habitat expecting to be impressed..this exceeded the expectations...Not too long before I have one of these sculptures welcoming guests at the front door. I just realize that Cileia's got the exact same pic on her blog:)..

Checked out the new F-bar last night at the Ashoka..either i'm getting old or something was majorly wrong with the janta..lots of brutishly gyrating couples and groups that somehow didnt gel well with my previous memory of F-bar when it was situated near adchini...No sign of the patent leather sofas or the pristine silver/bling set up. I predict it'll be another classic delhi nightspot; 2 months of glory followed by a continuous visit from the underbelly just as various others before it. The evening culminated with KS showing the visitors a lot more of delhi at 3 am then what they had bargained for and with me knocking a few teachers' with tan and ro after what seemed like a VERY long time. good conversations that included reminiscing of the old and touching upon new, slightly touchy topics. A perfect saturday so to speak...

Errands to be run, prep for the return to the village underway and the absolute acceptance of the fact that the delhi summer is upon us. Whoop-do-woo :)

More on work and the ongoing brilliance in being part of a set-up soon...

shut your eyes

2008-03-04T03:49:00.000-08:00

the weekend was relaxing. a 3-dayer after some time in fact. Checked out the gorgeous Akshardham temple. A phenomenal structure spread across a large expanse in the east of delhi; the temple pays tribute to a host of hindu deities dating to a period approximately 2-3 centuries old. The architecture is complimented by an excellent effort from the organizers to provide educational exposure on that period (apart from blatant glorification of the indian contribution to global science, technology and general advancement:)) through film, music and an innovative boat ride carved under the ground!

I was duly impressed but still couldn't get my mind away from just how many people that complex and area could have housed. The crores and crores of indian rupees that it must have bucketed in the name of religion...stagger me. The creator admonishes my supposed over-righteousness with "Ultimately, the money that has gone into this would have gone into less useful areas; so might as well have it for a good cause like a religious structure right?" Dunno. I really don't know.

Vantadge point and Nanny diaries- Check. the frenetic pace of movie watching continues apart from relaxed evenings at home. Today marks a whole new adventure which would be greatly solitary but hopefully hugely rewarding. It is in one's own hands....

Super sunday was truly super. There is nothing, and I do mean nothing that can take away from pure unadulterated greatness. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Sachin provides a size 13 sole for those struggling with the foot and mouth disease :). The boys also show the world why India is a dominant force in the face of world cricket. Very proud of young rohit sharma and heart races at the thought of a pure humdinger tomorrow when the Aussies shall surely come at us with all guns blazing.

Bring it on I say. Bring it on.

In bombay this week on work- will be there from the 6th-8th. WIll let the gang know of the reunion spot; might just be at the holiest of holies like totos or not just jazz but I'll wait till the schedule is fully decided upon.

song of the week is undoubtedly 'shut your eyes' by snow patrol btw. Just when I thought they were possibly the worst band of the last decade, they come out with quite a beauty i must say.

dot

2008-02-25T20:57:00.000-08:00

the last 3 days. Michael Clayton lived up to expectations. Jumper did not. I don't know anyone who watches as many movies as we do. I wouldn't watch that many if it wasn't for you. It's just too damn awesome to have someone you can do everything with. Seriously. Everything. That's a lot of things. I told a friend there wouldn't be anything else I missed expect for.. He was genuinely surprised. Tendulkar fires under pressure once again. Back in the village. Settled down. Basic things make one happy. Like a good game of badminton. How can one man have so much game? Big decisions this week. The phenomenon's movement impacts my own. The weather is so damn perfect. The papers were filled with news of the 4 kids killed in the car crash. That is totally one of those things that you think could not happen to you or me. It can. It does. Drive safe. Drive smart. For hell's sake: employ a driver. Dread. Excitement. Hope. Loneliness. Sefl-driven. So much to do. I know this isn't making any sense. Don't worry. Some things are not meant to be understood.

24

2008-02-21T21:24:00.001-08:00

It's 5 past 1 in the morning. The complaints of my better half combined with the knowledge that I can start my day a little later then usual tomorrow are urging me to re-capture some of the emotions from last week.

For last week was momentous. Marking the dusk of yet another 'era' in the saga, DC turned 24.

Holy crap. I say that to myself nice and slowly as if to be re-playing it in the very filmy style of "nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin"

"twwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnttttttttttttttyyyyyyyyyy------ fooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuur"

As I look at what I've just written it looks kind of moronic but what the hell, this isn't quite winning the booker for best blog entry. I know that doesnt exist but I really think someone should be thinking of adapting our current rewards for literary genius to the shorter , far more anonymous writings of the web-crawling layman.
Irrespective, this one's not in the contention either which way.

It all sort of started with the day before the big bash-to-be itself. A nice reunion with a mentee and his ever expanding avatars that can only be acquired over the experience of vikhroli combined with terribly large shots of rum mixed with vodka (thanks ofcourse to KS) - led to a few drunken phone calls and some random conversations that I couldnt care to recall now. One phone call was cathartic for me and the recipient though I didn't realize it would become a matter of such great discussion. Still not quite sure as to how it was perceived but am going to allow myself peace with the realization that at the end of the day 'I am a generous, kind hearted man that wants people to be happy' Even for those that are owed nothing- there is a feeling of remorseless remorse. Ever had that feeling? You knoow you shouldn't be feeling guilty about a good decision you made but yet end up feeling so just because the decision is too hard for another to swallow? Small mistakes continue to plague in this one odd-ball connection, that too shall be dealt with.

Drove the boys home that night and woke up with that sleep-deprived, alcohol ridden sense of disgust that can only be cured with a long hot shower, coffee and loads of citrus and carbohydrates. I was to have none of these for the first half of the day so I proceeded to take my 6 million facebook messages (god I love that thing for reminding me of others arrivals but hate it for reminding them of mine), emails and rapidly incoming calls to the east side where T was waiting. Some wonderful gifts were received and there is really nothing more cute then connecting with a 12 year old at her own level. Maybe i'm still 12 in some ways huh? I'm now the proud owner of a book I've wanted for a long time as well as some very very nice apparel that is sure to light up the social gatherings of the coming season. Thanks to you:) !

The birthday prep was kind of stressing me out. My MV pad, as snazzy as it is, can only host so many people at the end of the day. The end of the day (in a literal sense) saw over 40 people during the course of the celebrations. Gate-crashers et al!I should have known that the back garden would play an unassuming host. Whilst I didn't have time to mingle with all and sundry,it was a good chance for people to catch up and for me to remind myself that this is where it is at. This is what the hard work is for and this is truly self-realization and growth's outcomes in the simplest of ways. Nurtured relationships come together from across generations, bonds built with the creators come to an enlightening fruition and the resolve to be 'outstanding' continuously wrestles with the balance it must attain; nay, the balance it HAS to attain.

Balance - The only weapon available freely to manage the chaos that surrounds us.

Anyways, after a fun tash session (there's that word again- for my non-Indian homies this means a game of cards) , the gang dispersed slowly I and joyously. Champaigne accompanied conversations that are always welcome. I slept to the knowledge my teens are a fair distance behind, and the quarter century sneaks closer. I felt the urging need to evaluate, draw up a progress report and browse through notes of 'where I'll be at 24'. I resisted the urge to do so. Something told me, something tells me - it may be spot on. And even if it's not- there's a part of me that is just too damn happy with the balance of yin and yang around me. I would continue to drive change in myself and around me , but ironically enough, it would be a motivation that yields the ultimate goal- of staying in status quo of contentment.

Contentment.

I still remember that conversation with evicka "Dhruv, are you happy?" rings true in my ears every single time.

Bharat sent me a new piece which kicks some ass somewhere in between the festivities btw. It was brilliant and I could imagine myself giving him some pakka-pow leads to go with it. Heart breaker as he is , I get the information that the lead is already in place, he just needs to work the layered recording. Damn you. irrespective, I think a reunion is on the cards sometime next year no?

There didn't exist any post Birthday blues btw. I woke up with a sense of excitement for things to come. There are huge advantages that come with being your own person and your own individual. To any kids that are dreading 'growing up',- don't. Financial freedom, the opportunity to pursue your dreams, the long winding road that carries adventure,invitations from the tracks less traveled and the pathway to make it all right. Right as how you imagined it would be. Right as you played out in your head- over and over and over again. Right as the manner in which the dream, the path and goals converge. Too much uncertainity revolves around the developing years. The years of core development are now done- take all you have and make something happen.
Make it happen.

Diwali night itself turned out to be a lot more fun then what I had expected it to be. More tash, fuljaris, T, close friends, lots of scotch, catching up, random pictures, little fights, festive colors and returning home at 5 am. Diwali in delhi is the sort of thing that an almighty must look at and say "I think they've got the togetherness thing sorted out, now how the hell do i get it to be this way all year long?"

The last few days have been hectic with ups and downs. Only a month and a half remains to the true judgement day. No second takes, no second chances , no trials and no alternate angles where self-aggrandization is the easiest way out. It's now or never. Time to go for broke.

I'm writing some new songs btw which I'll be uploading soon. In the meantime, here's my top 5 track-list of the week:

1. stabilo- flawed design (remix)
2. Kanye West - good life
3. Seal - amazing
4. unkle - lonely soul
5. taking back sunday - what's it feel like to be a ghost (transformers OST)

P.S.- for anyone looking to watch the most nonsensically hilarious, racist and degrading movie to the human mind- watch soul plane. It's a riot.

over and out with the recommendations. You guys should be doing something productive!

of an evening somewhere else

2008-02-21T21:23:00.000-08:00

On why I like being somewhere else. (written some days ago)

Just once in a while.

I arrive at your doorstep ..or is it gatestep? Or does that even make sense whilst we’re yelling at each other on the phone on why your cell phone battery always dies at the worse time and how you can supposedly hear me with my booming voice outside the gate A-62 in the fighter jet colony and you come out and say:

“bro you smell splendid, all fresh and all”

And I say “bro, im always refreshed upon seeing you” and then there’s this big stupid laugh as we hug and you slap me on the back and ask “whatsup bro?”

It’s always good to be back.

Somewhere else I sit on the 5th floor of a busy building along the highway and see your attractive looking flatmate (who is also a lawyer) walk into the house. On another day, in another time I might have taken more interest but my mind wanders to a girl sitting with a lamp near her face, illuminating her auburn hair as she studies tirelessly the effects of alcohol on the brain and the methodology behind treating retardation in young children. My mind wanders to the point when she suddenly thinks of me and picks up her cell phone. She types out furiously, something extremely adorable. To me, it’s probably more meaningful then anything I’ve read in the entire day. She says “come back” and I joke that I’ve been gone all of 36 hours. As I say this I realize, I miss her...

We drink some nice scotch with water (sam needs his with soda as he goes just a little slower) and we belt down the scrumptious fowl soaked in pure butter. I see planes taking off in the distance and I am somewhere else. They're somewhere else too...

Because somewhere else is nice at times. It’s away from what is everyday and it’s nice to hear the words they say. It’s somewhere new. Ironically, someplace else makes me realize how much I cherish where I was in the first place. Why must we be apart in order to yearn to be together?

The weekend was a heady mix. Things aren't always what they seem and I've got high standards of people. Maybe it stems from the high standards I have on myself. December draws nearer and there are many songs to sing...

many songs to sing.

idiots

2008-02-21T21:22:00.002-08:00

Got this message in the morning:

It's nevr too late to fall in LuV.
Luv is not finding some1 to live with, it's finding some1 u can't live without.!
Never miss a movement!
Happy Valentines Day.

Key inferences:

1. I hate sms lingo- we are slowly disolving into a crass, crude and short-cutting society that chooses to look like graceless morons thanks to the wonders of quick speed technology

2. never miss a movement? Sure you moron. You should also never miss a chance to read what you're forwarding from some other half-witted idiot to check for grammatical, spelling and utter stupidity-ridden errors.

Meh. I hate Valentines Day. I hate it even more because I've succumbed to it, I succumb to it EVERY time.

Stupid day.

what transpired

2008-02-21T21:22:00.001-08:00

has been eventful.

met my blood. I knew he'd love cafe morrisson. we knocked the beers and caught up. As I told V later, there are different levels of maturation. Some may not 'grow up' but face hardships of different kinds- hardships and realities that may be alien to us. He has always meant well and the security blanket we wear manifests itself in his case in the form of a rock hard fist. With this, my brother loves and hates; and for us lucky souls that lie in the realm of the former , there could be noone better. Our reunions will always be joyous.

A delicious cake (even though I didn't react quite as immediately as I should have:)) . Get together at tan's. Highlight being a heater with lights and some insanely dipping temperatures with rum and coke. Pretentious people are everywhere. Gita tagged this pic below as 'family'

The Concert. Huge. Lots of coordination, realizations and more. Went off well and the movie star pulled it off. The creators had fun which was the idea. A friend dissapointed me. Who needs a truth serum when all we need is alcohol? Insecurity towards those who care is despicable. Maybe I don't care as much as I think I do as well.

The night that followed was jarring. None of us are superhuman and the body is fragile. Breakable. Bendable. There lies no greater load then the guilt of letting down one who is your responsibility. There is nothing entertaining about the sight of blood.

Take care my friends. You guys are precious, and I don't mean in the creepy lord of the rings way.

P.S. - I've created chaos by tagging my relationship status as married to V. Jesus- I wonder what's gonna happen when it actually happens. Whaddayasay T? :)

P.P.S- Achewood as usual makes a completely brilliant mess of the ongoing elections in the states. Chris - you are a lone star in the dark skies of our foolhardy belief in all that surrounds us. And you do it through an imaginary set of animals in a fake town. Thank you.

when you care , it shows

2008-02-21T21:21:00.000-08:00

We consume various forms of entertainment in our daily lives and if you’re like me, there’s always the desire to hunt out brilliance in movies/plays/music/visual arts etc. Movies play a pretty big role in my weekly fare (albeit commercial most of the time). I’d like to get more arty with my cinema but the access to such films is sparse to say the least. Anyways, I saw a couple of movies over this past fortnight and the reaction to them was different to say the least.

Eastern Promises: a brilliant account of the Russian mafia (based in London) and their relationship with an unfortunate midwife unveils a dark and highly intense series of events that had me and T (well me atleast) spell bound. The almost gritty shades of violence merge superbly with the fragile relationships that exist within a family that is angelic on the outside but clearly the very re-incarnation of societal degradation on the inside. Viggo delivers a phenomenal performance as the driver with a twist. The ending is heart wrenching and leaves one almost begging for more. Well done.

american gangster : the latest offering from ridley scott left MUCH to be desired. A story that held a tremendous deal of promise (for storytelling purposes) along with access to arguably 2 of the most brilliant actors of our time should have had cinema-goers on the edge of their seat. Instead, we got a loosely packed hum-drum effort with bits of violence, disconnected story telling and characters who you don’t fall in love with or hate with intensity as you might expect to with a theme of this sort. What pissed me off even more was that I saw the ceiling mic (used to capture dialogues) about 4 times during the course of the movie. Just goes to show the lack of care taken in the project. Denzel is powerful but that’s almost expected now. Crowe tried but failed miserably to get my sympathies or attention as the misdirected integrity-driven cop. His philandering nature was shoved in for effect and that led me to further irritation. What is terrible though is the fact that I was really really excited about this flick. The ingredients could not have been more perfect but the dish turned out to seriously disappoint. The saying is true: when you care it shows.

Discovered a new blues artist.. Got a mailer about the one tree festival happening in Mumbai randomly, saw that Robert cray was playing. Sent an email to the organizers whining about how they never bring greats up to the capital and saw that this guy was also performing. Curiosity forced me to check out his website and a couple of his songs. 1 day later I had both of his latest albums sitting prettily on my desktop and ipod along with a burnt mp3 cd for my car. Sloe gin is quite a brilliant piece, even if Mr. Seth doesn’t quite think so : ) How much I love the internet. How much I love you.

speaking of the internet, I got a few minutes of air time on ndtv’s x factor where we discussed the recent internet downtimes taking place in india and Egypt. Friends and foes as always had a good laugh about it but like I said “great way of killing an idle Thursday evening”..I also bumped into an old old friend along with a bunch of other acquaintances which is reason enough to swing by for an interview here and there…Niel ofcourse worked very quickly post the meeting and we spent Saturday chilling in the balcony of tabula to some half-decent music. Dj Hamza has skills although I think he could better. I wonder when I’m buying myself the mixer and console 'cos I honestly think I would love to mix a set once a fortnight. Another to-do that gets added to the list. DJ Chitgo in the horizon?

Mehr was in town as well last week along with her friends from LUMS and beyond. Despite an insanely hectic week, I knew I had to meet these guys for multiple reasons. A quick round of drinks at TGIF followed by a last-minute trip to a club that turned out to be fairly shady was to be the series of events for the evening…they enjoyed themselves and the messages received on their return brought a smile to my face.
The wall read

“hey! just got back home safely.
its been a great trip to India, although I do wish we had more time!
Thanks for everything Dhruv! All my friends are in love with u : ):)”

All the fatigue and coordination is so worth it.

T’s homeboy J was in town last week as well. A brilliant photographer, we took a killer trip down to chandini chowk to check out the sites and allow him a click-a-second opportunity of anything and everything that caught his fancy. Visit number 2 at the paranthe vale gali was enjoyable as we scarped down the deep fried delicacies, including a sinfully phenomenal rabri-parantha that had me and T feeling like bowling balls. Lots of walks into the by-lanes and exposure to sights and sounds that are otherwise alien to our everyday life. There’s so much out there, we sometimes forget just how lucky,unlucky or different our lives are. Me and T spoke of the day and how the evening would be spent at a swanky night club. Beautiful people and their beautiful smiles…some fake, some real- but certainly removed, for those few hours, from reality. Who’s to define reality though? Who? Lots of conversations on life, relationships and more for T; difference being that they weren’t with me and it was interesting to see her tackle the situation in a manner that was unlike her normal approach. What is stunning though is J’s brilliance at his art. I call it art because anyone who can take pictures like the one below (look carefully to understand the talent) inspires , nay demands respect. Thanks man- I’m sure we’ll be walking through a gallery displaying your work sooner then later.

Conversations of immense importance have taken precedence this last week. They will lead to decisions and these decisions will lead to consequences and journeys. I’ve always sought out new journeys and for the first time I wonder if I’ve got the legs to carry me. Time will tell. Insecurities of a certain nature crop up from time to time. Will it work? Will it happen? Will it continue as it has been? Will things change? They plague the mind…and I, like any other superhero- grin and bear it. The manner of release surprises me though. There are miles to go before there is complete and total control. the modern day meditation is dogged determination, there can be no greater concentration then a focused effort.

Kanu and Adi get married this weekend. I rejoice in their union through my presence, smiles, hugs and recollection of stories from our shared experiences. I realize that it’s a new phase. I realize a lot.

A lot of excellent elements to the routine have been ignored this past month. The sustained period at home with the creators has been a vacation of many sorts. The phenomenon returns within the next fortnight and the search for a new abode shall begin with gusto. I look forward to it. Health needs to take priority once again and the ability/time to work it all out of the system has been sorely missed. The weather changes ever so slowly and the day is not far when we speak of manic heat waves and sun-burn. I learn of a good friends’ return to the city, I learn of a friend’s disgust with her job. I celebrate the former and I try and look for solutions for the latter. Sometimes I think I should stop looking for solutions. It’s caused a bit of heart burn in the past, but as I told T..’noone I know has benefited from taking the passionate and loving side of a friend for granted”. I’ve left many by the wayside in the past…with no chance for their return. It still hurts- just a little bit though. Are expectations too high? I don’t even know what that means. Equality and balance is the secret. If I don’t feel it, I know my objectivity promises me that it doesn’t exist.

The fingers fly
The pictures form
The belief rings true
The future is you.
Don’t question
Don’t judge
Don’t wonder
I’ll live it my way
And like no other.

Good night. This has been cathartic.

is this the greatest song of all time?

2008-02-21T21:20:00.001-08:00

this is devotion, this is indescribable, desperate..a complete offering. I heard Rocket house repeatedly in times of endless soul searching and reflection last year. Times are different now, but the whirlwind still surrounds - tempting my efforts to pacify. It's works of art like these that are my armory.

Thank you Chris for having added so much to my life. I wonder which divinity it was that inspired you into writing this. I would have asked her to have mercy on you, on me...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The horizon pales
when she hits the ground
sirens and scaffolds
all coming down
under the weight of heaven
if only devotion
could rise on a word
then you could stumble
never be hurt
you could let go

Breaking your fall
Breaking your fall

The pilots of pleasure
your weatherman
never could push you
far as I can
they just let you fall
while buildings and bridges
just crash and burn
it's only a cloudbank
bursting in turn
they were made to come down

Breaking your fall
Breaking your fall

Fault lines and failures
angels and all
follow her footholds
breaking her fall
it's alchemical

Chris Whitley - Breaking your fall
from the album Hotel Vast Horizon.

a friendly reminder

2007-09-04T01:38:00.000-07:00

Hey dhruv
This is just
A friendly reminder
That I’m watching..

Ensuring
you never forget
the results of your mercurial temper
the maudlin outcomes
of your destructive heart
that ruthless atelier

A friendly reminder
that it won’t always be perfect
you won’t get there that easily
you won’t ride smooth
it won’t be all that breezy.

A friendly reminder
that she will hurt you
for your not god’s gift
as you claim to be
you will propitiate
for your actions
supposedly supernal.

For you too
shall indurate
love demands
proportions that
commensurate
your bellicose afflictions.

Just remember,
I’m always here…
by your side

take a picture...

2007-05-20T00:46:00.001-07:00

It was one of those nights. Tossing and turning, I found it difficult to achieve the blissful feeling one gets a few minutes before venturing into a deep and long slumber. Maybe it was the irritating pain in my legs from the lack of a proper warm up before the basketball game. Maybe it was the clash of thoughts and worlds that my mind often flitters in and out of. They come from having seen a lot of different people in a lot of different situations. Maybe I just wasn’t sleepy enough.

Grumble out of bed. Lights on, I sit and stare into the nothingness of the ceiling of my room. Look at my desk and think of how I should clean up the damn thing at some point. Open the sliding cabinet containing all the papers from my dad’s meticulously arranged bills, investments and strategic financial planning. Smile to myself at the sight of my college graduation mark sheets. With a good friend now in Vikhroli, I refresh the memory of the nervous phone call made to a class mate from Bombay inquiring fearfully of my 3rd year results. “Dhruv, I don’t know the exact number but your average is coming to a mid second division”. What sheer and utter excitement. I hadn’t studied anywhere near as much as I could have, should have. Irrespective, my way with words in subject matter that allowed for grandiose explanations and name-dropped theories saw to it that I pulled through. I recall with happiness the relief in the creator's voice in hearing of the result.

So you see, this is why I can't find it within myself to provide motivation and drive to you during times of academic duress. My academic duress was limited purely to all-nighters before the damn paper, cramming in every possible word in the most selective of studying possible. It was like a damn game of russian roulette every single time. Anyways, I also think I don't give myself enough credit in that regard. Doesn't matter because I give myself a hell a lot of credit for everything else.. HA HA.

I start shifting through some of my old books. From Gerald Durrell to a series of yellowed Jeffrey Archer's. There's also my old Asterix collection. Darn I loved those. I could read and guffaw my way through half a dozen even today.

My fingers feel something soft, a picture. Delicately and carefully (as delicate and carefully one can be at half past midnight in a dimly lighted room) I remove the objects from their hiding place. Its in fact a series of pictures; with a couple of cards thrown in. I go through them and read some of the words.

Instantly, a sea of memories and vague recollections of intense conversations overtake me. Some had scribbled and angled scripts, others large and loud fonts categorizing their efforts to emote on paper. I think to myself 'some more additions to the memory box'

Introducing, the memory box.

A shoe box once belonging to a fine leather brown pair I picked up in Bern, now containing footprints (how ironic) and words of the past 4 years and beyond. Past relationships, conference sugar cubes, short-lived liasons, leather bound diaries and more. I take the shoe box down and peer inside. It's already packed quite near to the top. I realize as I go through (only cursorily) the contents, ' there's a lot of writing in here, not a single picture'

Not a single picture Not one.

'A picture speaks a thousand words'. Bullshit.

Words speak a thousand pictures. Every card, every tiny piece of paper, every book with an inscription brings me back to a time, place and memory that now has an era attached to it. The present streams on in infinity till it too gets bounded by words once written, and thoughts once shared.

A picture plays a small, momentary and futile part.

Hey, we are celebrating...so lets take a picture! Say cheese.."snap snap"...ohhh that's gorgeous, you guys photograph so well!

That's it, captured in time, for a supposed eternity.

Show me a picture from our arguments, from the time I saw 200 people cry, argue and emote in a room with me. Show me a picture of you waitng at the airport to pick me up, or the time I sat down to tell you I didn't love you anymore.

Show me those pictures. What? don't have any?
Too bad. I have them in words.
(I know this is hilarious coming from a guy who loves taking pictures...

Which is why, I at times, fear those words. In that box there are 'what ifs and if nots'. In that box there are speculations and heartfelt expressions of devotion and passion. In that box there is blood, sweat and tears shed to achieve where I am today. I'm not always ready to face them.

Bring on the pictures. The snapshots are of the finale. The finito. They captured my success, my happiness. I collect my past in a 2x2 box that breaths softly from the wisdom it contains.

The pictures are displayed proudly across my room. I don't need a box for those.

once

2007-04-16T21:04:00.000-07:00

For you were once
insecure
yet I scoffed
ridiculed
cajoled
threatened even
for you were once
insecure.

You heard me say
i've had enough
and your eyes welled up
with tears
with fears
unmapped
by your inexperienced
heart.
for you were once
insecure.

How cruel was i
to take advantage
of the innocence
in your touch
in the way your tiny hands
clutched
curled their way
around my arms.
I slept soundlessly
as you wept
siently.
For you were once
insecure.

Time slashes
through bloody wrists
the result of
affections obviated
harshly,
for they were once
far too clingy.
and now
i faintly,
silently,
reminisce
of devotion
dedication
pure agonizing emotion
for i was once
secure.

today i know not
where you are
with whom you dwell
no longer needing
my sense, my voice, my being
by choice.
ofcourse
by choice.
i still remember those
dimpled smiles
those twinkling eyes
for you were once
secure.
---------------------------------------------

bad with words

2007-04-16T20:45:00.001-07:00

repeatedly
the string of words
regurgitate at my feet
over and over
for no other pattern
exists.

you struggle to express
communicate
mention even
what it feels like
how much it affects you
but fail
and fall
dissapointingly short
of what we need to hear
what we need to hear.

For i am listening
every single day
hoping
assuming
that your actions
will not be
as disjointed
as sparce
a farce
as your words

I observe
I study
the double standard
you employ
and I pray
furiously
that you're not another
to suffer the loss
of losing me
forever.

...

2007-04-16T18:58:00.000-07:00

parallel to once...

if there was ever a night when you felt you could sing the saddest song, this would be it. not because you feel you could do it justice, but because in split, piercing seconds, you feel the see-saw of your heart aching and your heart wrenching in unsympathetic waves.

it's true. at the end of the day, you've got to be able to count on yourself, because noone has your back. noone. good friends going through tremendous turmoil in their life would understand this. i respect you my friend. if you're reading this, know that i respect you.

ill let my fingers do the talking..

2007-03-22T21:06:00.000-07:00

oh when a one night falls..

2007-03-12T12:23:00.000-07:00

oh when a one night falls
oh when a one night falls
who will cry when im gone
who will you cry when im gone

oh when a one night falls
oh when a one night falls
would you cry when im gone
would you cry when im gone

would i be the man they say
would i be the man i see
oh when a one night falls
oh when a one night falls

numbers on my grave
embers of my flame
oh when a one night falls
oh when a one night falls

dC's advice column: whats the story morning glory?

2007-02-06T04:42:00.000-08:00

Yo yo yo dC,
My top dawg, hows it hangin? I’ve been facin some major problematic problems recently and I thought Id drop you a holler and get some advice with a side orderin of rice you know what im sayin?

Anyway, the deal is bro that I just cant get myself to wake up in the friggin morning. No matter what I try. My woman be busy screaming her gawddamn lungs out but I cant get the body to move. My mind is saying come on boss, shake it, bake it, make it happen. But it just doesn’t work. Ive tried alarms, bombs, early morning FM, makin my lady throw a bucket of cold water on me (just resulted in me almost smackin her for her impudence), etc etc… Basically, ive tried everything…

I’ve got a job answering queries at the airline counter in Mumbai airport and getting late is just gonna get my ass fired. Help boss, youre like the savior for my misbehavior dude…

-dozing in dadar

Dear dozemaster,
As my good friend Sam would say..its hanging a bit to the left today. But ok, getting to your problem…I have a few issues with the selection of solutions you embarked on.
1.Early morning Indian FM is not for waking/listening purposes. Its what the Indian army uses to torture those who cross the LOC illegally. Don’t ever do that to yourself man..no matter how much of an idiot you might think you are (and you seem to be ranking quite high in the india’s most retarded hitlist)
2.bombs? Dude…..
3.cold water? Man….there are times when I don’t even know what to say….

So anyway, I fortunately, (as in most cases) do not share in your particular predicament, so I turned to my phenomenon of a flatmate who sleeps so much through the day, I sometimes think he’s in a call center. He however, miraculously, survives on, gets his ass out of bed and keeps his job, somehow…Here is what he had to say:

“the oversleeping condition (complimented by the ‘I cant wake up in the morning condition’ is caused by the severe reproduction of the violet colored imbecile-effect inducing moronis cells in the brain’s frontal lobe area. The best solution is to have someone deliver a swift kick in the nuts to you first thing in the morning". Whilst this is something my flatmate has to deal with often, my advice is to follow it up with a supremely loud playback of korn’s issues album or megadeth’s - youthanasia. There is a track in the issues album called wake up that I used for 2 months in a row during my god-forsaken board exams. I never heard it once after that due to the hellish nightmares it brings, but yeah, it got the job done.

Secondly, quit whining and grow a pair.

Sleep earlier, quit fantasizing on how you’ll one day become rich and successful, quit watching late night home-shopping networks (you cannot afford anything) and finally, try to expand your severe lack of grey matter with some intellectual reading. Whilst someone like you would not understand anything a book might be trying to express, it will make you sleepy and hopefully get you up in the morning screaming ‘holy crap!, im a loser, time to make something of my life!’

Hope this helps.
-dC
P.S. aren’t you the idiot who was getting clobbered for not providing the VIP passengers with information on the delayed flight out of Mumbai last week?

dC's advice column: the inheritance of loss

2007-02-01T20:17:00.000-08:00

Dear dC,
This last week has been the very saddest of my entire life. I have never known the earth shattering aftermath of a great loss; but god, in all his beauty, in all his cruelty took someone very close away from me, and I just have not been able to find the answers…

He was over a 160 years old, the oldest living member of our family, Abraham D’Souza (affectionately ‘Abe’) - our pet turtle passed away silently in his sleep.
Having seen me grown up and having been with me through the toughest of times, I am looking for a way to honor his life with a funeral ceremony. Knowing the sensitivity and beauty with which you express your deepest feelings, I thought who better than dC to help me make this a glorious goodbye.

-Lost in lucknow

Dear lost,
Man, I have one question for you. What kind of people, or lets say what species on this planet, choose a turtle for a pet? I mean seriously. Is a turtle even categorized in the ‘Worlds Handbook of Certified Pets’? I’m trying to see your side here, I really am. All I’m left wondering though is – Dude, a turtle? Did you guys play catch? Did he bound into the doorway when he saw you come back from school? Did he lick your face when seeing you after a family vacation? Did he purr gently and snuggle up next to you?

Dude…a handbag is not a pet.

Also, with my little knowledge of turtles, Abe here passed away well before his time right? ‘cos these dudes usually live upto being like 8000 years old or something? I was watching this national geographic once and they found this 4000 year old skeleton, and there was a turtle sitting right next to it. What was crazy though was that scientists figured out he was one of those angst filled teenage turtles (not the mutant ninja ones) going through puberty. Man, thats some old shit.

Don’t get me wrong though. I, in all my wisdom once thought of getting a turtle as well. I have no idea why. I even thought of a name – Tot. Pretty insipid name but I was like 6 or something. Anyway, the idea was scrapped when my dad (the great and original senior DC) brought to light that harsh realities of everyday life.

“dC my son, you’d call tot for breakfast and he would come down for dinner”.

As always he was right. I got a pet elephant itself, a much better choice and only partially illegal.

Ok, so anyway. You want to plan a funeral thing. I guess you’d do the usual – life size picture of ol’ Abe in the front. Friends and family crawling around his 4x4 coffin munching (slowly) on some cloves or leaves or something…

You gotta have the right music ofcourse…I’d suggest any of George Winston’s albums (the December album is tremendously soulful)...If you want to really get a tribute going you might wanna put on some Robert cray or Kenny wayne Sheppard to kick in the blues as the amphibians and you discuss stories of how he once sped across the living room in less than a week to honor his beloved kimi raikkonen. Yeah, itll be a relaxed scene. Maybe later you guys can make a table out of him or something. Honor and utility are partners in the game of life….

Hope this helps
-dC
P.S. if I get a mail from you 5 years later asking for a first draft on the eulogy of your pet snake ‘anna’ ; the answer is no.

dC's advice column: holding my drink

2007-01-28T22:26:00.000-08:00

dear dC,
I’m a smart, attractive working girl with a good pay check and enough men humming around me for attention. I like to go clubbing and enjoy the occasional blues concert as well. The problem is that I can’t really hold my drink…I can start off slow with a small screwdriver or apple martini, but post the second or third drink I’m usually flying pretty high and this has caused more than an embarrassing situation for me in the past. I recently had to be carried home in a bit of an inebriated state by co-workers which has resulted in a few (but irritating) office jokes….
Any advice from a alco-master like yourself?
-tipsy in Trivandrum.

Dear Tipsy,
Ok girlfriend, here’s the deal…people who cannot handle their drink, should NOT DRINK. If there’s anything I hate more than preppy chicks getting wasted on the first wiff of a tight rum and coke, is preppy chicks with some semblance of a brain knowingly making a retarded fool out of themselves. In case you haven’t noticed, you are gracefully and fortunately classified as type B.

Now as I see it, staying away from the fortified grapes isn’t really your forte so I’ll suggest a few other solutions. Try mixing soft drinks with your beer; try adding tremendous quantities of coke with anything alcoholic you drink; eat a lot as you drink; and drink a lot of water as you consume. Now each of these activities will certify you as a grade A loser, I mean who wants to have a conversation with a chick over a friendly drink as she’s stuffing her face with tikkas and red-bull?? It will also make you fat and possibly quite bloated. Congratulations, you shall soon be a certified social disaster; but hell, way better than finding yourself twisted upside down throwing up like an anorexic with food poisoning, all re-enacting scenes from the exorcist. Oh, and if you want to keep drinking, just listen to some robbie Williams and james blunt while you’re at it, it’s the kind of music which will kill your high no matter what you’re on.

Hope this helps.
-dC

dC's advice column: dance

2007-01-25T02:41:00.000-08:00

Dear dC,
Ok this one is really straight from the gut dude. I’m a happily chilled out 17 yr old on the verge of graduating high school. I’m tall, good at sports and popular with the ladies. Now, in this last year or so, I have had to come to face with like this major problem ok, im talking earth shattering problem and its busting my nuts. The fact is that the number of parties taking place in the vicinity of my social circle are growing like majorly ok, like you know crazy amounts. There’s a party for everything and the rest of the boys and I look forward to having some scene to kinda get our flirtations and all on you know….that sort of thing. Anyway, what has been pointed out to me by some of my homeboys is the horrible truth that … well…god damnit!!

I can’t dance.

Like I just ain’t got the rhythm in my butt or legs you know. Im standing there listening to Akon but my bodies moving like a retarded adaptation of the Phantom of the Opera. Now whilst the chicks haven’t noticed quite just yet (‘cos well you know I stand in the corner and bob my head playin all cool like), im sure its gonna dawn on them someday that im this sociopathic loser who needs to be in dance party quarantine…

Help DUDE HELP!...i know music is the answer and no matter how much I play my judas priest greatest hits album I can’t get myself to shake it like a saltshaka’’’..

Much love
Danceless in delhi

Dear danceless,
Oh hell yeah, I remember dudes like you. All Iron Maiden wearing, corner-of-the-party standing, head bobbing metallicats acting all cool, thinking the music was all happy and gay but not really joining in the festivities. I feel your pain. Well I don’t really feel it because I’m quite frankly the rug-cutting, soul-shaking, bootie knocking male version of fergy but yeah, in the possible parallel universe where dC cant dance, I feel your pain. Loser.

Ok, first off delhi boy, judas isn’t going to help you. You ever seen a tiny-skirt wearing, heavily made up delhi chick that would turn down prince William (not cos he’s not good enough for her but because she doesn’t know who prince William is) go all ballistic to Halford screaming ‘I believe you’re the devils child…?’ No you haven’t. And if you have, get yourself checked ‘cos you’re most probably dead. Anyway, Judas isn’t going to help. What you need to do is grab yourself some good house music that won’t cause your testicular fortitude to run down your pants and shy away from you screaming ‘no master noooo’. I’m talking house with an attitude that makes you move. I’d suggest a mix of Daft Punk’s Homework, Paul Oakenfold’s live in Havana and Oslo albums, mixed up with a bit of Depeche mode (world in my eyes, Halo) and possibly a few Disco Kandi records. Don’t be afraid to stand in front of the mirror and try to shake a bit. The sight might be ugly but in the end you’ll come out stronger.

I don’t usually say this, but try and turn on MTV for half an hour a day and watch any of the pathetic excuse for entertainment music videos for inspiration. If you’re desperate, watch any usher video, whilst this is supremely gay, I have to prescribe something slightly more extreme for your ‘govinda’ condition. Turn MTV off before it completely rots your mind though. The fungal infection caused by MTV in the brain can commence anywhere between 20-25 minutes...

Finally, get yourself a copy of a Genesis’ song called ‘I can’t dance’. It’s a terribly catchy, satirical and ironic number that shall remind you of the terrible world we live in where god doesn’t make us all equal and it comes down to those who can, and those who cannot- dance.

Peace retard. Don’t fall over yourself trying to jive a chikita, proclaiming desires for a hikita.
-dC

P.S. and don’t lie to me, aint no dude good at sports can claim he’s got dance disabilities. Unless you’re playing kabaddi professionally, in which case quit reading and writing into my column.

dC's advice column: world music

2007-01-23T03:40:00.000-08:00

Dear dC,
You seem like a well traveled individual. Which part of the world have you picked up direct influences of your musical tastes from?
Why I ask is that I am going to Bangladesh soon and it is my first experience of international travel….I’d love to get some tips on how to go deep into the roots of that culture and dig out music that encompasses the core of their cultural diversity…
-Chatterjee Sen from Kolkatta…

Dear Senmaster (not),
Just a second. Let me get this straight. You live in Bengal, you’ve never traveled abroad, and of all the god-forsaken locations on this gorgeous planet you choose Bangladesh? Man, you’ve got a brain, the internet and hence possibly enough cash flow to afford a newspaper… Are you not seeing what’s going on in that country??? Political lockdown, economic distress….do these words make any sense to you? Dude, they haven’t got things sorted out since the British left us battered and bruised 50+ years ago. They’re busy giving nobel prizes to dudes for micro-finance policies , little realizing that that’s the entire economy itself...

Anyway, what you do in your spare time man….

Finding about musical tastes in different cultures is a discovery. People watch the European top 20 on crap-assed MTV or VH1 and they’re all “im multi cultural and embrace diversity”. Bite me. The same shit does the same rounds all over the world as capitalists drive forward selfish motives and promote seemingly (but hardly) global sounds like shakira and Madonna to any continent that can afford it.

My trick – go into homes man. People’s homes. Go for small Sunday fests in little known cities and hear the music they play. Walk slowly behind mothers taking their children for a walk and listen in on the lullaby they sing. Don’t get too close or you’ll get a roundhouse kick all the way back to rosagulla land but you get my drift.
I spent a weekend at a gorgeous little cottage in the outskirts of Bern once where all I heard was a piano infused jazz collection of the home-owners family collection. Not exactly my cup of tea but it gave me a sense of the serenity of the place. I went for a live concert 3 months later and heard a rapped up French version (in concert) of dr. Jekyll and mr. hyde with Will I am in an awesome avatar. The answer is on the streets.

Man I don’t know what you’re doing in Bangladesh but if finding flute organs made out of raw rice and playing it for pleasure is what you call music, hell all I’ll say is respect….
If you become a political prisoner though I’m denying I ever gave you advice.

-dC

dC's advice column: tattoo

2007-01-23T03:39:00.000-08:00

Dear dC,
I’m planning to get my first ink-job….any advice from a well tattooed brother like yourself? Also, its not like the pain matters too much but just checking- how much does it hurt?
-Alex from Mumbai..

Dear Alex,
First of all, if the pain didn’t matter, you wouldn’t ask. So quit being a pansy and ask. Now as you asked I must say ‘quit being a wimp and worrying about the pain’. Especially the pain impaled upon from a tattoo. Tattoos are voluntary. In 59 years you might be suffering from some dilapidating disease that causes your bones to crumble at the touch of a hard substance and that is real pain. If we suddenly decide to go to war with sri lanka and the 2 of us need to get enlisted, and you get shot by an LTTE sniper dude in the bottom half of your left ass-cheek, that is pain. Quit whining.

Ok, about the tattoo. First of all, I am not that well-inked up. I have one glorious job paying homage to the sun-sign on my right arm which shall get supplemented at some time in the future….

Good tattoo parlors are numerous. Funky monkey in bandra is beyond tremendous. The player there has a phenomenal samurai scene going live across his chest and back. If you’re looking for pain, inspiration and true devotion ask him to take his shirt off to get a peek. Do not be gay about it though. Secondly, my tattoo experience was enhanced with bad company’s self titled album blaring behind my ears through the hour long duration required for the creation of ze masterpiece. Everytime I heard Paul Rodgers go “bad company, till the day I die…” it was a holy matrimony of an experience.

Anyway, I suggest you tell the ink-master to pump in something cool like the drive-by truckers or even old school alice in chains (man in a box or grind would be scintillating) …. If its pain you’re worried about though, there are hena tattoos on every beach in goa that offer mehndi jobs to little old ladies. They play compulsory goan Christian music with that fallacy of an art, but please refrain from writing or sending pictures to me of the aftermath if this is your choice of action.

Good luck and godspeed

-dC

dC's advice column: getting it on.

2007-01-23T03:37:00.000-08:00

Dear dC,
This is a bit embarrassing to say, but my husband and I (married for nearly 25 years now) have been having some trouble in the bedroom department lately. I don’t know if its his new job or the new mattress I just got from the discount store down the street; he just isn’t firing on all cylinders if you know what I mean. Or well, he’s firing a bit too quickly…well I’m sure you get the drift.

I’ve been reading your column and I am sure the wonders of music would get his ‘well you know’ thing going….
Please help! I want more children…4 is just not enough don’t you think?)

-Desperate in Dalhousie

Dear Desperate,
Ok lady, first off…you’ve been married for 25 years. Considering failed child marriage acts in this country I’m guessing that should make you atleast 30 years old. So please quit saying ‘well you know’ and ‘if you know what I mean’. We ain’t talking about the secret blood line of Jesus Christ or the crying lactose effect of ganesha statues here. Nothing to be shy about man. This isn’t Dan Brown’s advice column ok?

Ok. Back to your problem. Fairly common issue. My worry here is more for your husband and his state of mind at the moment though. You see men like to perform when relaxed. This is not just restricted to the bedroom. Whilst sport is a different matter (where adrenaline and competition play a mightier role in performance), the bedroom is about union, a congruence, a divine act. What im trying to say is , Lady, are you trying to make a little cricket team out of your kids? you’ve already got 4 in 25 years, go easy on the cycle of life sister, we’re all doing our bit…you don’t have to take on china alone you know.

Anyway, what you guys do is up to you. If mr. desperate needs some motivation I suggest a couple of things that have been known to work for some of my friends. My phenomenon of a flatmate chooses to play any one of the longish Doors numbers when he’s getting his mack on. Problem with that though can be that Jim’s songs many a times last longer than him so there’s this melody going “Mr Mojo riiiiiiiiiiisiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing, got to keep on riiiiiiiiiisiiiiiiiiiiiiing” and I come downstairs to find the 2 of them washed up, dressed and drinking stale orange juice….not the coolest scene on the block you know but yeah an option…

Don’t go for the obvious sexual healing and lets get it on. They’re clichés and quite frankly no Indian dude can ever really compare male machismo to the African-american…way out of our league. For your unique case though, I propose putting on Lenny Kravitz’ greatest hits and learning the words to ‘I belong to you’. That’s gotta get things smoking…and if not. Just get a poster of the dude on the wall, whatever Mr. Dalhousie can offer, you can enhance through lenny’s supposed super sexuality. I’ve known a few cats to shake off below average (but good people type) lovers through that image.

Hope this helps.

-dC

06 to 07...

2007-01-09T09:45:00.000-08:00

I left for the big G on the 25th of December. A blog posting from Mumbai airport, surprisingly uber-punctual flights via sahara and 6 hours later I set foot on a truly gorgeous part of my beautiful country..
Goa was everything and more.

One of the first things that struck me about this place was just how clean the damn place was. From superbly maintained roads to lush greenery (ok that could be the climate, but still) and well structured directions to various parts of the coast town beauty. Agreed that goa is mostly populated during 2 weeks in the year, I could not get over the sheer pleasure of my surrounding. The fact that my cab driver was most indignant when I laughed at the sight of 2 dudes (heavily inebriated) attempting to give us directions.
His explanation ‘they are enjoying’. You know, not drinking, not tanking, just plain ‘enjoying’. That is the spirit of goa.
Maybe this preparation was good ‘cos it stopped me from guffawing myself to death when the dominos rep on the phone (yeah yeah I had just arrived and I was much too tired to drive down to north goa for my first plate of prawn curry ok?) says ‘sir im sorry but we cannot assure the 30 minute delivery promise during this season’.
Somewhere some dominos marketing rep is turning in his grave…crores and crores of rupees spent on branding and quick delivery and here’s chiller goa telling customers “we could be there in 40 minutes or maybe even 50, just wait please sir?”

Hahahahha I wish I was kidding…

So anyway, the laid back masti of the wind down to a phenomenal and most intense year began.

It was fitting.

When I look back at this last year I can distinctly look at it from 2 very different perspectives. It started off with major dreams and difficult battles, both on a personal and professional front. I won some, I lost some, but in the end I think I came out stronger and smarter with each battle; none of them scarring me with a wound deep enough to refuse the chance to heal.

I made some big decisions…and learnt that more then the actual decision itself, it is the strength and integrity of the individual to stand by them in thick and thin, as if they were entities residing within us, next to us. The decisions I made this year were almost like people themselves. They carried with them the experience, foresight, pain, pleasure and irregularity of human beings. I stood by each of them and got them through. Another year of being proud with my Entscheidungen.

Goa was heaps of fun. I was staying in donapaulo, residing in the gorgeous pad of lord KS which had all the amenities and more…the jetty near his place yielded gorgeous sites such as these that had me and T gazing wistfully during long walks and occasional sips of our coconut water….goa puts you in a lull…magnifique….

Trips to baga

were often in the first half before the damn place became a fish market. Highlights were the rockstar gautam singhania

making an entrance in his chopper right at the shore of baga and the brilliant dj pearl mixing an absolutely killer mix through submerge at the sunset parties of zanzi’s. a must do for everyone who enjoys the simplicity of sea food, house music, the setting sun and the goan kings beer mashed in with good company and the taste of sand in the air……

We spent a lot of time at candolim with the college gang. Me and T finally found a picture that we both like a lot.

Goa had a lot of attempts and this one certainly comes closest to the most adorable of all time…it was truly awesome having one to one time as much as we did.
The gang was in their element and I was reminded of just why I got such little studying done in college with these guys. In between skinny dipping at midnight too handa’s butt slapping with his new oshos and long insane walks to shack parties noone had heard of to sethi snoring so loud that foreigners wanted to take video recordings specially for youtube specials….

It had it all.
We also made a solemn promise to do goa for NYE an annual thing…if there’s one thing I wish- its for that too actually materialize. Would be a good story for our grandkids…

I knew the airline situation whilst going had to be too good to be true, so on my return sahara expectedly lost my baggage. 2 trips and many shoutings later, I got hold of my one solitary suitcase from the delhi airport and resumed life in the kickassery of the north side; but with one exception.

CK flew in on the morning of the 4th and it was nothing short of…
Well words fail me.

One makes acquaintances, friends, good friends even. One makes plans of meeting across geographies, in home and alien environments. One tells stories of friends and family and just how the bond would grow within loved ones…

Many a time these dreams and promises just don’t come true, they don’t come through. Life is full of people coming in and going away fairly easily. When younger you feel pain, hurt and extended depression on losing the special ones. Age hardens you, maturity and responsibility being the evil reasons for ‘drifting apart’

CK, you and me laid the first grounds for never letting that happen…from playing chauffer to the various wedding ceremonies, to endless screwdrivers at shaloms and laid back waters to conversations extending early into the morning and late into the evenings….we just picked up where we left off and it was awesome.

4 days went by much too fast and I look forward to coming to singy bro. more adventures await us.

Its back to the routine now...something tells me 2007 is gonna have its own share of surprises, only time will tell.

Bring it on I say, bring it on….

funeral chants and prayers: stories for my funeral

2006-10-24T22:02:00.001-07:00

Author’s note: To my dearest readers, welcome to the (http://chitgo.nomadlife.org/2006/07/funeral-prayer.aspx) ongoing series entitled ‘Funeral chants and prayers: stories for my funeral”. I have had, over a period of time been fascinated and entwined with the sheer mortality of our being and the pursuit of understanding life through the lens of a ‘passing’. Whilst this is a macabre topic and highly irregular with my otherwise basic outlook on life itself, I can assure you it has by no means anything to do with ‘visions’, ‘omens’ or un-vocalized, unscripted thoughts of doom. These are purely feeble efforts at putting together for myself and strangers a collection of stories, that may remind us (albeit harshly) of the terminal nature in our existence and the beauty of irony arising out of the realization that in this next second “we may not exist”

These stories are meant for individual reading/recitation in times of mourning or loss of any living creature. I would want them recited during my funeral.

Diwakar’s plea.

They always looked at Diwakar with a certain sense of awe. It just seemed to many that met him in varying capacities that he, pretty much, possessed it all. A chubby kid, not many expected him to grow to be the 6ft strapping young lad (as he liked to call himself).

Mrinalini, Diwakar’s mother would hold herself back from knocking on the door when he would hear his anguished cries of frustration on the phone. “That’s not what I meant!, don’t put words in my mouth, why are you being like this?”. As a mother and as a woman, she was surprised to see her son so out of control. Calm, placid and most importantly cool-headed in the worst of personal or professional crisis – this boy was downright messed up. She didn’t interfere though. Better sense and bitter experience had taught her not to invade in a moment of privacy which saw her son in a ‘supposed weakness’. Be them boys, be them men, there is an ego residing in the core of that gender’s caveman instinct that must be left alone, no matter what. The maturity, she felt, only shone through when these protectors would come forth and lay their head in exhaustion on her lap, allowing a single tear of pure helplessness…..those days had come as well; but this was not the time.

Diwakar felt free. It had been a relationship with tumultuous ups and downs….with anger and self-righteousness; the latter being a role he felt compelled to play. He looked back at those 3 years and wondered at just how they fought through some of there problems. His insecurities weren’t very well known, except to her.

Now he was back in Bombay, in his home town, settled, sorted (as Yashwant loved to say) and very very full of life. After those intense years of hard work, traveling, living a life of self-restraint (which he wasn’t used to considering the ease with which his materialistic needs were granted from a young age), he now had balance. Work was interesting – a manager for Corporate accounts at a respectable PR firm…couldn’t really ask for more. A line fit for him many remarked, youngest at his office and it wasn’t a well documented fact. His demeanor not corresponding to that (Still) young, boyish face. The years of heavy shaving only producing a barely razored stubble that the girls loved to stroke. She loved to stroke. She giggled as it tickled her soft cheeks and brushed against her crimson lips.

That is one statistic that would have a pattern. The last thoughts of a person before … . Diwakar left the gear for an extra second to feel the jagged nature of his neck. He thought of how she looked that close, and how much he had hurt her. He thought of how difficult it had been and how he had pleaded for her to reconsider. How he had pleaded, without words, for her to understand that his actions were honest and true. He thought of his own beliefs – of integrity and honesty, and how she had pummeled them into the dirt strewn burial grounds, a place his heart lay mauled and mangled- beating in a soundless bloody heap. He knew he was drunk, the last drink was stronger but he hardly cared. Many nights he had driven through on his fabled 2-wheeler across Delhi roads fighting rains, headaches induced by drinking and the struggle to light a cigarette with his helmet on, in the middle of a crowded street, like some medieval warrior inhaling the last intoxicating scent of the murderous crowd before reducing to dust in the heat of a battle.

He thought of all this in a split second, and as he turned he didn’t realize the street was one way, he didn’t register the speed of his own vehicle, he didn’t realize the safety belt wasn’t on.
He thought of all this in a split second as the blaring headlights of the oncoming tempo, screeched into the humming, buzzing night.

She was asleep when she got the call. It was 4 in the morning as she grunted her way to the cell phone she wished she had not forgotten to put on silent mode. For a brief second she wondered who it was who could be calling. As the trembling voice on the other end delivered the truth, the closing, the hard reality….she heard an almost deafening scream. It wasn’t from Gaurav, his best friend, but from somewhere deep inside her. She tried to gain balance and stand but lost control and fell, almost rag-doll like to the floor, beating her fists to the cold marble…She must have been quite loud, for dadi awoke almost immediately. It meant nothing though. She stumbled across to the cupboard and put on the first thing she could grab. Ram bhaiyya would have to be woken up, amritraj hospital jaana hai.

That ride was the longest of her life. He had once remarked jokingly that he wondered how it would feel to see the afterlife. For some horrendous and inexplicable reason- those words kept ringing in her head. It’s almost as if he was inviting it.

move on

2006-10-06T01:06:00.000-07:00

Created once
Extradited
Out of a life insecure
Now so mature
So experienced
You Derived heat from my body’s sun.

Was I enraged?
Did I feel wronged
by my own
Unending generosity?
Unending sacrifice.
Unending.

But those deeds
Shall not be remembered
For hate and anger take precedence,
in these moments less worthy.

I too
Move on
across landscapes
Peaceful that my strength
Finds an abode within.
Peaceful that my strength
Meant for a few
No longer plays a role
For you.

Maintained I have
that my tender touch
is but a farce to a colder heart
much too vicious
much too cautious,
pain will not play a part.

Move on
and leave this behind
for your own good it shall be
to leave this behind.
Be prepared though
To face thy inner demon
Someday
‘cos there be no such pain
Like fooling the inner voice.

ok..

2006-09-01T01:33:00.000-07:00

chitgo blogs here
this is purely for purposes of posting at sam and others

?

2006-09-01T01:26:00.000-07:00

what did i just do?