A Brush with Inspiration

The brushes, the acrylics and the canvas finally beckoned. Long time.

Open to all interpretation(s).





The Buddha's image was inspired partly by my visit to Bodh Gaya and the visit to Kalighat. This is the preliminary notebook sketch. The final outcome on canvas is unknown to me right now...(Kali - Buddha - Woman - Man - Goddess - God - Intensity - Enlightenment - The Fire - The Calm - Life-like - Death-like - Bodh Gaya - Kalighat: all merge at some point).


The musician's image was partly inspired by Pandit Jasraj at his concert in Kolkata.















Intezaar.

Circle of Taste

A trip down memory lane : I found a list of my favorite movies from some eight years ago. Looking at it, I myself was startled out of my skin. In a quick moment of uncontrolled reflection, I could not help but marvel at my current movie taste.

Then:
Kagaz Ke Phool
Sholay
Pratidwandi (The Adversary) - Satyajit Ray
Shatranj Ke Khiladi
Agantuk
Apur Sansar
Suraj Ka Satwaan Ghoda
Mili
Muqaddar Ka Sikandar
Nayagan
Roja
Ek Din Achanak
Ijazat
Bada Din
Arth

Baap Re.

Gulp.

(...and there were others like Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron, Salim Langde Pe Mat Ro, Albert Pintoo Ko Gussa Kyon Aata Hai, Saath-Saath, Mrigaya, Lekin, Masoom, Elippathayam, Iruvar, Bombay, Raakh etc.)

Now:
Bheja Fry
Darwaza Bandh Rakho
Chupke Chupke
Do Aur Do Paanch
Golmaal
Angoor
Chhoti Si Baat
Naram Garam
Waisa Bhi Hota Hai (Part II)
Chini Kum
Hyderabad Blues
No Entry
Honeymoon Travels

Pure, sparkling laughter. Pure, blissful entertainment. Bas, aur kya.

Call it Evolution. Call it the birth of yet another moron. Call it Wah-Wah-Wah, call it whatever you please.

I refer to it as the Circle of Taste.

What the ....

We netizens believe in sharing. Whatever we share and whatever we do not, whatever we care or don't care about, there is one virtue that unites all us net users - that of instantly forwarding some email forward which happily happens to land in our Inboxes. Even before one has finished reading the poor email, "Click, Click and one more Click" on the Send button. Sent it to almost all that mattered. There. Now I can work or do anything else. These days you find a lot of the funky YouTube videos etc. But there was a time when it used to be pure, vanilla text forwards. There have been instances when some bandicoot would even walk upto me and say "Yaar woh waala forward waapas bhej na".

One such forward ran something along these lines : a human being can read sentences even if some characters in the words in the sentence are jumbled, garbled. And quite fittingly, most I knew could read the following (as an example) correctly - "Teh trian blew a luod whistle sa it roleld itno eth raliwya statoin."

I often notice the cool kid on the block proudly display his clothing labels by wearing a branded shirt, the logo screaming loudly on his chest, probably along with his attitude. Who knows? The display line often reads "FCUK". Going by the logic presented in the preceding paragraph, I don't want to say more. The first time I ran into one of those raccoons wearing the fcuk t-shirts, I actually asked my friend what is wrong with this guy - "Why couldn't he spell the most famous or infamous word correctly"? I know now. It is one of the cool brands and hey, I am no longer saying anything.

Speaking of which, I don't understand what all this fuss about this cool word is about. It is a favorite with so many of my buddies. They use it when they are happy, they use it when irritated or angry or if they drop their pen or if they see a cool member of the opposite sex. Many use it all the time - just about for everything or just about for nothing. See, it is that cool.

And speaking of which, people the world over seem to be angrily abusing someone else or the other. Look at Hilary and Obama. Just look at our Bhajji boy and Symonds or for that matter, big fella Hayden. If Bhajji said "Monkey", others said he was saying "Maa ki". Our puttar simply was referring to Maa Ki Dal since he was utterly nostalgic and was longing for ghar ka khana. Now, that is a big problem - playing in these far-away lands. Hayden called Bhajji an OLW (Obnoxious Little Weed). So? Big deal. The cool kid on the block would be utterly, butterly proud to be associated with anything weed-like. He says it would be a privilege to be called one. So what was Harbhajan's problem in life? Or for that matter what was Symonds' problem in being compared to the dal (possibly or something else) from Ma's kitchen? This is the age of the Gaalis and the Lord of the Gaalis shall be the winner and shall rule. It is almost uncool not to huff and puff and swear something which no one around has heard hitherto. The more the number of heads you turn or the eyeballs you help pop out, the cooler you are. If you don't agree with me, you know what you are going to get now.

With the gaalis booming in the galis let this post be dedicated to all those who have done us proud over the past month by swearing the hell out of hell itself.

Holy %+#*!!

Couple of lines

Stumbled upon my favorite poet's poems today. Been a while. Sharing one of my all time favorites.

Har aadmi mein hote hain dus-bees aadmi,
Jise bhi dekhna ho kayee baar dekhna.

-- Nida Fazli

(for inexplicable reasons, I dare not translate it)

Oh, nothing really

It is only after getting rid of my top-of-the-shelf iPod (gifted it to my sis during my trip to India) that I realize what it meant to me. It was probably an unmentioned, taken-for-granted companion that would accompany me to almost all places I visited, whether or not the companionship was made use of, acknowledged or valued. Never more missed than during my trip to Portland. Usually I board the airline, plug in my iPod and am lost to the world around me. Sometimes I smile silently at a video, nod my head at a movie I start watching or silently tap away to the beats when the music takes over.

The stop-over flights from Toronto to Portland meant a tremendously long travel time. For the first time in almost several years I felt I had opened my eyes during a flight. Several interesting personalities popped up as my neighbours. I shall try and exclude part or the whole of their names. But to me, the character loses meaning as soon as I change the name. Not done.

Atlanta to Portland : A marble collector and antique marble seller. Old man. Would incline his head towards me every 10 minutes and say something and chuckle to himself. I would nod in appreciation, even if I couldn't hear what he said. The effect of which was that he would chuckle more. He finally started reading a book as I started to work on my presentation. But in the next 10 minutes, he leaned towards me again and almost made me promise that I would read the book he was holding in his hand. "Will do sir, will do", I assured him. He explained the history of marbles to me and was greatly knowledgeable in that area. Even invited me over to his home in Salem for a lunch. Finally as we were about to depart, he thrust the book in my hand. I was stunned by this gesture. Not something readily seen in the Americas, I can tell you that. I thanked him profusely, took his email address so I could email him once I finished reading his book. Didn't quite know what to make of the whole thing, but after a good two weeks, after a marathon session at work and coming back home to my Winamp music list, I stare blankly at the book and see this: "Tuesdays with Morrie - an old man, a young man and life's greatest lesson" by Mitch Albom. I am tempted to say "Go read it", but shall hold on till I manage to finish it of course. But there was a lesson in there somewhere, even if I am unable to explain it right now.

Portland Airport: sitting at the Margarita Bar, surfing and catching up on email. Enter Christine who took the seat next to me and promptly ordered her two margaritas. She asked for help about getting into the wi-fi network there and who better than me around, surfing away madly. Sorry, couldn't help that one. She soon reveals that she signed her divorce papers on Valentine's Day and how her life ends at 32. I don't know what I told her (simply cannot remember) but she thanked me profusely. Not often that you get so many blessings and good wishes and compliments of being a good soul from a stranger. Hope she finds happiness.

Portland to Las Vegas: A certain Kevin, whose wife was on the verge of leaving him. He was very quiet at first but once he started talking to me, there was no turning back. Covered almost all topics from relationships to Sufism. He gravely insisted and finally bought me a beer. So there it was, two strangers drinking away their Friday evening and flying to Vegas. The interesting part was when I remarked how stunning (no matter how many times I have seen it while airborne) Las Vegas looked from high above - a dazzling display of lights. Immediately Kevin became agitated. He was very loud on how water from other parts have been wrongly diverted and used to light up a desert. He very strongly recommended me to read a book on the Colorado River and the impact on Vegas. I forget the author's name, but will find it out soon.

Vegas to Toronto: A slightly elderly lady Claudette who happens to be on the film board of Canada. We discussed film making at length (happens to be one of my passions). In particular the discussion on Mani Ratnam's Dil Se was enlightening.
She was very well versed with Indian films and had been to India many times.

Why did I mention it now? Today? Don't know. Exhausted after 2 days at work with a three hour nap in between I guess.

In any case, kuch yaadein. Bas.

Things come back to you slowly, at their own leisure, at their own pace, as they choose.

He is just a friend yaar!

All this love-shove business amidst all the V-Day hype have been wreaking havoc amongst my gray cells, coupled with the number of extramarital affairs I have heard of in the recent past, that too in the pyare families of my pyare dosts. Chill guys. What is wrong with desis today? The cool and chillaxed Victorias, Amandas, Natashas were expected to have trudged and stomped that path of all the extras. Lekin socho zara - the Renukas, Piyalis, Mitalis have thrown the chooris at the faces of their Rahuls, Shankars, Abhijits and are out in open revolt now. So have the Sonalis dished out a similar dish to the Kelkars and the Bhattawadekars.

Aaila. Kya Mirchi hai.

Seriously. Something has happened to desis in the Americas. Ok, before you knock me out with that belan in your hand, let me tell you that I am not siding with any Rahul or Shankar here. Desi men have a long history of extreme finesse as goes the wolf-whistles. What was hitherto sort of unknown was the frequency of desi cat-calls leading to several cat-fights in the open ring of Desi Life, with other desi onlookers watching agape of course.

It was only recently that I stumbled upon a survey of Indian professionals in which a whopping 34% said it was ok to chill with your office colleagues to move up the corporate seedi. The survey sort of reminded me of the Snake and Ladder game I used to play in childhood. The survey made me believe there were plenty of beautiful snakes in the Indian corporate industry. They almost assure us that there is no dearth of the snake charmers in there too.

So when some white man tells me India is still a land of the snake charmers, I chuckle to myself, nod silently, shake my head in some feeble protest.

"Depends Steve, it all depends", I say.

Which brings us to the all important question. What is this flirting in the first place, which inadvertently lead to this unwanted and unadopted relationship and shook everything from the bedroom to the boardroom? Umm.

Most women I have known have been well aware when a guy flirts with them. They gradually get used to it to a point when the pest becomes a deemed dost, when they can simply shrug off all his "harmless" flirts/advances with a "Cmon, he is just a friend yaar". Really? And at the same time, while loving all the attention from the rodent, they would usually be impudent enough to express some form of annoyance towards all the attention they get. Everyone likes appreciation, but when in a relationship, the wise one always knows where to draw the line. Getting sweet SMS-es and/or messages from an ex maybe perfectly alright to some cool ones, it maybe too hot to handle for others. Then there are the ones that are given the spin of "a true friendship" over an ex-love, with the ex constantly trying to revive the spurned lover with his/her cheekiness and the true friendship stance. I long gave up understanding those. The way you are inherently, probably defines your attitude towards this whole way of living. Whatever it is, take the onus upon yourself and be well prepared to face the consequences on the morrow. Rarely have I seen one indulge in this high-adrenalin race of grace, embrace, trace and not shed a drop in remorse later. So pssst....just KISS (Keep it Simple Stupid!!). Of course, everyone is a friend in these sublimely divine times. Sigh, you got me wrong there, didn't you?

To guys, it never matters, so long as the life form in question happens to be female. Be it your ex with whom you have probably broken up and vowed to move on, be it someone's girlfriend, a girl is a girl. Never should you as a guy let a chance pass by. What is this constipated thing called a principle anyways? Only beavers have a conscience. The cool kids "Just Do It". Welcome to Generation Y.

I agree, there is this friendship angle that can really complicate things and wash two souls away to the pure shores of Eden. Some swear by honest friendship even with their exes or colleagues. We all know where it all ends in an age when people don't even seem to be true to their siblings or even themselves. I guess, the question really is, how peaceful do you want to be in life? If you have the energy for all the fun and the complexities that could arise, then jump right ahead. Else watch our beloved Shahrukhs and Hrithiks spell it all out for you in the comfort of your HT.

Given the state of things propagated by our dearest internet sites (Orkut, Facebook - need we say more?) I won't be surprised to find desi joint (or disjointed) families of ex-present-n-future-partners popping up on these sites soon with their intricate, mind-boggling web of cross-connections, ex-entanglements, misunderstandings, pseudo-friendships, work connections sprinkled with more than a healthy dose of personal-life-glitter etc.

Which reminds me of this one-liner I once heard: "Mr. Fortune knocks on your door only once. If you ignore him he will send his daughter Ms.Fortune". Many a male face lights up instantly and involuntarily at the thought of a certain Miss popping by, only for the countenance to drop as easily as realization dawns. I want to gift that one liner to many a family right now.

I would like to dedicate the post to a person I fondly call The Boss - Jagjit Singh Ji, the ghazal maestro. I have been a very ardent fan of his for many years now and the respect has only grown over the years. Feb 8th was his birthday. And let me tell you one little secret here - if you thought his ghazals are what I die for, you are very wrong. I did start with his ghazals and went totally ga-ga over them, but I love his bhajans much more. Ah, calls for a totally new post.

But before that, please enjoy. Cheers!

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A Rose

Ah, ok. First things first, so I profusely apologize to all those I have wronged by my silence. I very well owe my readers an apology as well as an explanation. Which is that I had to travel to the United States on work. I went away to Portland/Beaverton which are in the state of Oregon.

This was my second visit to Portland and I think it is a nice city. For those interested, there seem to be these tags associated with the port city - "The City of Roses", "City of Bridges" etc. I could see several bridges across the Willamette River as well as the Columbia River so one of the tags seemed justified. The roses - ah, delicate matter that. I can claim to have not seen any roses in there since my movement was largely confined to the business areas.

But with the week that went by being the week of V-Day, I was not surprised I didn't see any roses growing on trees or orchards. I half suspected most of my readers will be busy the week of V-Day and didn't think it appropriate to trouble them to read any new post of mine .

I went out with a team of software developers for dinner on V-Day to downtown Portland. Everywhere I would turn my head, there would be a sweet couple braving the cold, hushing and laughing over something I dared not ask them about, usually the girl carrying some rose or a flower in her hand. What is it with these roses? Come V-Day and their prices soar above the Sensex or the Dow.

They come in all colors, shapes and sizes you know. The short, mid and long stemmed ones, boxed and packaged neatly, sold at the florists as well as online over the internet. I came to know that the Ecuadorian roses were in demand this season. Over dinner, the conversations needless to say, veered over to V-Day gifts. The people in attendance were all V-less for the evening (due to whatever circumstances). The gift ideas (even theoretical) that the guys proposed were instantly dismissed by the women at the table in the most cavalier fashion.

My theory was that women loved roses for V-Day. The two women at the table said they would kill their husbands if they ever ventured in with roses anymore. One of the enterprising male members in attendance could solve this conundrum and concluded that roses are important only in the first year or so of the romance. After that the real gifts become the cry of the woman. A rose is at best a "this too" kind of gift.

"Where is the diamond?", the woman would enquire if showered with a bunch of red roses alone. Hmmmph. These women. Anyways, Christina and Alex - here is a rose to you both. May you both live and prosper to celebrate many more V-Days with more roses.

I didn't follow V-Day celebrations in India this time. It is an altogether enlightening experience to do so. Usually some neta would have sued the Hallmarks or the Archies for selling roses and greeting cards, oblivious lovers would be booked under the immoral acts for holding hands in a public park, there would be some rally in the major cities against V-Day being celebrated in India. I wonder what happened this time around?

Anyway, I really hope all of you had a great week. Cheers to all of you for V-Day and to the girls, here is a pretty rose!