The New-Age Protagonist

I have seen people who revel in Hindi cinema more than they do in anything else. They have spent all their lives swearing by the fact that the hero is the protagonist and he has to beat off the villain and his aides by the end. He has got to be the man with real sense of responsibility, humor, care towards others and fear of god.

The so-called male protagonists are so easy to be spotted amongst the crowd; for they are the ones who never turn their eyeballs to a hot chic passing by; they always abide by norms and regulations of all the possible laws in the world, including fundamental laws of Somalia; they always end up fighting away a bunch of villain’s aides despite their 32-inches-sized chest or lack of any possible knowledge on martial arts; they respect their parents heck lot and end up tracing them (if have had parted) by the climax despite them being in different continents; and they are easily provoked by their favorite antagonist, leading them to activities like punching hard or spicy arguments.

Thus, these people define their recipe of a ‘hit’ movie. For them, if any of the above clauses misses, the movie doesn’t do well in the box office. Well, I bet say that I have discovered a lady who is so gracefully defending the current trend and is still making a lot of name and fame for herself—the lady who is so seamlessly attracting eyeballs that she has become a hot favorite without anyone really realizing that; the lady who has given birth to an offbeat cinema which has, as a matter of fact, been loved by everyone including critics; the lady, none other than Vidya Balan.

J    

Giving a knuckle sandwich to all those who relied on Khans and Kapoors to make a movie hit, Vidya has shown to the world how the sole content-oriented subject can make news as well as money. Having watched both her movies in which she has acted protagonist (The Dirty Picture and now, Kahaani), Vidya has given way to a new age, female-protagonist era. For some reasons, I am welcoming this era with open arms, as I don’t have to rely on the senseless romance or meaningless act-and-take-revenge stories for good entertainment.

Strangely, I am not a PR executive of Vidya who is getting heftily paid for building her image or a die-hard fan who is extremely ignorant to her flaws. I am not even a film critic who is susceptible to nuances and can easily catch any aberration. I am just a lover of good cinema who would surely demand full worth of my money, time and emotions invested in a movie. And for a change, I totally admire this wind of change!

Watching from the stands

They say playing in the arena and watching the game from the stands are like night and day; both might not narrate the same part of the story and one might just take back home a hundred versions or a thousand perspectives to chew over.

I remember one of my close friends quoting her experience of a random party that she was compelled to attend. Being advised by a dentist, who was more concerned of his fee than her molars, to not touch anything which could harm the expensive root canal treatment, she kept her hands off the hard drinks and surprisingly, ended up enjoying more than the times when she was happily drunk, anyway unable to notice things happening around.

According to her, she lived every moment of the elation and also laughed off several bloopers which drunkards around were unwittingly landing themselves in, unaware of the fact that some exceptional, conscious mortals might have their eyeballs fixed on them. She also imagined herself doing the same, enjoying the tastes of varied IMFLs, and catching all the limelight having made a monkey of self. Anyway, she said it was total fun watching hardy guys puke, oh-so-sensitive girls fall on the dance floor, happy-go-lucky types cry while pouring their emotions out and elderlies dance like no one’s watching.

According to her, being amongst the party animals and eying on them while sipping fruit juices were two distinct experiences all together. While former would leave you least concerned about the world around, the latter would give you hundreds of hush-hush stories to gossip about and thousands of instances to watch and fracture your rib cage while laughing.

I experienced a similar case of watching a game from the stands during this holi. Since we were not supposed to play along this year, we basked in watching others make merry while soaking themselves in colors, water, filth and, of course, bhang. Here are my tablets of observations, coated with loads of sarcasm:

 

1. I saw oh-aah-ouch girls merrily throw water-filled balloons on random guys and hiding away when the guys gave them what these girls eagerly sought after, their attention!
2. I noticed several haw-Namaste-nahi-bola aunties rub gulaal off each other’s faces while complaining about their hard-to-tame kids.  
3. I also managed to catch a glimpse of henpecked uncles have a day off their wives and get mirthfully drunk in the daytime.
4. I viewed the world around me so jubilantly drenched, from their crowns to cuticles, in colors unknown, only to wash them off during the later half of the day.
5. I observed one of the self-proclaimed dudes of our society, under the influence of his favorite ‘unknown’ liquor, listen to the same song blare in his car in the repetitive mode for the entire day.
6. I relished watching numerous kids run in unison to color and wet every new member, only to add the person targeted to the group and further look for a new target.
7. I viewed several ageds enjoying the euphoria which so gave them a break from their usual dull lonely routine.
8. I loved the smell of gulaal around, which filled the air with loads of toxicity and agents to cause allergy.

In short, I saw this holi from the stands and realized how I missed getting mad along with the crowd, being totally mucky this one day of the year, only to wash the stains off the rest of the 364 days. J

You know me how!

Have you ever adopted a plant or a pet? If yes, you will better comprehend what I am trying to put forth. Witnessing a life grow in front of your eyes is an experience of a lifetime. And if you have a sibling, who is about the same age as yours, you might as well accuse me of copying your thoughts and putting into words.  

Reaching at this point in life, where the meanings of most of the words don’t actually remain the same and it’s the tone in which you say them what actually counts, when the pitch of your voice unknowingly reflects your mind and your acts need to be moderated aptly before they are being exhibited, I have felt a coldness creeping down my spine each day as I’ve stepped closer to being a young adult.

Spilling out my sentiments has never been this tough, as all I am feeling is a sudden dearth of words and an almost choked mind. Sharing a lifetime — the best part of our lives, when the life itself does not seem more than a word, when tough is tying the laces of shoes, doing one’s homework, preparing for exams, convincing parents to give a 5-rupee note, asking for ten more minutes to sleep, playing for an hour more, when fear is of not doing the homework, of being caught lying, of scoring low, of mysterious ‘ghosts’, of not being with each other, of getting scolded; the golden era when we actually break the cocoon of innocence and venture into adulthood, from just liking to crush, infatuation and love, from school dress to branded clothes, from a transparent relationship to a more so a translucent one — can be summed up in no other word than ‘magic’. The feeling transcends all other types of emotions in the world.

All that I fear is things just might not remain the same, say after a couple of years. But I am happy to have a person with me who knows me more than anyone else in this world, who I have literally grown up with, who has seen me crack from a seed and finally become a fruitful tree, who has been there like a roof, a shield and who has stood by like a true ELDER BROTHER. No matter what life makes us face tomorrow, I pray that the love between the siblings remains as fresh, as immaculate, and as overwhelming as it has always been.

PS: I am really sorry for an emotional one, but that’s me *rolling tearful eyes* J

If there is anything in the universe that can't stand discussion, let it crack!

When like minds play the game, the output ends up being a mean of their average intelligence, but when unlike minds sit down to conspire, the end result could be something as lethal as hydrogen bomb. That’s what I have chanced upon today. In a way, the experience was enough to light up my days and invoke positivity.

It was kind of a déjà vu; reason – I have always had someone in my thoughts going against my conventional thinking. May be, I found it too low to chew over every time. Though the reason behind the reunion was rather blue, the end result was blessedly amazing. I found someone who is witty and whose wit can bring out the wackiest side of a person out, knowingly or unknowingly. Needless to say, I am happy having met him. 


Here are the droplets of the wisecracks spilled all over:

1.      Why do we have to take all the self-opinionated souls on this planet seriously?

2.      There is nothing wrong in being ‘comfortably religious’… everyone else too is.

3.      There is nothing incorrect in dreaming big too, just study about the bigger picture more! J

4.      A creep’s life sucks — ask a creep. I am sure; he won’t have anything to tell! J

5.      If you’re stuck in the middle, either make your way to the top or life will make sure that you end up cleaning the bottom!

6.      Eye contact shows that you are ready for anything but shit.

7.      Lastly, it’s OK to have an opinion, but the correct knowledge will make you stand out. After all, you got to have a reason for everything that you do, the reason that will make all the difference.

In all, a learning experience, the one which forced opened numerous doors of my mind and let in fresh air of indulgence. J

Ways of Our New House (Part II)

Focus – our new maid, this Nepali woman, who I have referred to in my previous blog. Although, I reach home by the time she is about to leave having completed her work, I still sometimes get chance to see her working or chit chat.

My curiosity to know her more finally got wings when one day I had an off, and hence, was at home. I got to know a lot of about her, which is surely worth a read. Having born and brought up in a really small village, about 200 km away from Kathmandu, she got married at the age of 9. She was finally compelled to live in her in laws' house at the age of 11, after managing to spend two years at her native place post marriage.

Now, I fail to imagine how she would have managed to get used to the funny words called traditions and customs at the age of 11, when all that I must have been concerned with would have been my Barbie or her kitchen set. I thought here ends the climax of the story, without bearing even a single cue of the mere beginning. I had all the sympathies in the world for her situation then and the fact that she could not study much or make her own identity. She went on to tell me that she was pregnant with her first child at the age of 13! Now, this almost dropped my jaw to the ground. I found myself choked and unable to speak a word or rather clueless about what to say. She said she did not know anything about kids or their cause at that time; it was the curiosity which ended up gifting her child.

Further, she came to India with her one-year old in search of some work at the age of 15. She conceived her second child at the age of 16 and the third, when she was 18. And the situation right now is that she is a grand mom to six kids, at the age of 38. Reason – she married both her daughters too at the age of 15 and 16! I don’t know, may be ignorance showed its presence in solidified form.

She says it’s been an era since she watched a movie in a theatre. She could clearly recall the last movie that she’d watched in a hall, Sajan! I felt a sudden dearth, for I didn’t feel she needed any sort of sympathies or condolence. She was happy the way she was living today, accepting the life as it came, content with her financial or emotional condition, and satisfied with the way life has treated her.

Clueless, I feel life does not serve each one of us with the same platter. My quest to know my maid ended that day and now, I respect her even more, not for the reason that I feel my platter was tastier or richer than her, but for the reason that she enjoyed her food to the full. She has no point to apologize for and is living every moment life is treating her with. At times, I try to read her mind only to decipher very innocent connotations of situations or people. I surrender before her surreal incorruptibility. 

Ways of Our New House (Part I)

I suppose this must be happening with millions around and if that's the case, I would love to hear your stories too! Since we have just moved to a new place, getting adapted to the ways of our new house, the location and the people around is surely a task. And, we are obviously depending on a lot of people around us to help enhance our knowledge on things we never paid heed to before.

By the way, let me not miss this tremendously glorious opportunity to flaunt a bit about my new house and its oh-so-enviable location. Well, situated right in the heart of the capital, it seems as if all the ways to almost all the fabulous places in Delhi start right from my house. Nothing seems too far, as if these must-visit places have come home to take me by hand. For instance, I could never have thought of visiting Int’l Trade Fair on weekends because I was always turned down by first, the distance and second, the rush. Well, the second factor still remains the same, but no efforts seem to be that tiring when I know that Trade Fair is happening right in my backyard! *rolls eyes*

Moving on, living in the old house for about two decades, which is like my entire life, I still miss nothing that substantial about it. I know this might sound weird, but I am so mesmerized by my new abode, that zilch seems to fade in front of the old house’s beauty, except for the intangible part, i.e., the memories!

Moreover, here, we have found one more thing, or rather, a person, who has made us, my entire family, kind of used to it. Our NEW MAID. Well, I never thought, being in my old home, that I would ever dedicate an entire blog to my maid, but that’s how life is. It can treat you with nicest of surprises in weirdest of forms!

Our maid looks the similar, when at work

You would be thinking what about a maid, what extra can any maid do, how can one get used to a maid, etc. I’ll tell you more. This maid, a very cutesy Nepali woman, is not new to Delhi at all. She’s been living here for more than a decade. Her wrinkles have a lot to tell about the world she has conceptualized and her very innocent conceptions might very easily keep one glued to her for hours.

Always giving her 100 percent to the work, to the surprise of my almost every other relative, she would be the first to run for help, when any one in the family commands that. I could easily dedicate my entire post to her life story which is equally enigmatic, yet so so clear! For this, I might have to know her more and till then, I would wait to hear from my readers.

I have all the reasons on Earth for calling her that!