Revelry of the young and old

For the past few days, I had been thinking of organizing an outing in Patna. Nani has been feeling so lonely ever since Nana left and she just used to sit idle, staring into the darkness. It was very important that she have a change in her daily routine. Mananmama has got a new car and a trip for Nani in the car was also due. So it was that yesterday, we decided to go to the local Zoo for a picnic trip. Rita Mausi was here from Muzaffarpur and Mausi was already here in Patna. It was decided to have two trips by the car to transport all twelve people to the zoo.

To add to the spice, the pump at home was burnt out. Water had to be stored into drums and buckets because the mechanic had given Monday evening as the probable time of fixing up the motor and pump. Mananmama decided to have a full bath at Mausi's place in Rajiv Nagar. Since we also had to pick them up for the trip, I, Mananmama and Shanu left for Mausi's place with all our clothes for the first phase of the trip. How little we knew that this phase was all we could have hoped for. The rain gods unleashed their fury as soon as we were all ready to depart with Mausi's family for the Zoo.

After some hour-long deliberations on what to do and a score of telephone calls later, it was decided to have the picnic in Mausi's home. Mananmama went back to pick up everyone else, including Nani. I agreed, though with a heavy heart (because of the plans getting cancelled), because it would anyway have turned out to be a good outing for Nani, especially since she would be able to meet up her favorite daughter. Pappumama, as expected did not turn up. I always knew that unless the plan to the zoo materialized, he will not come. That was another of the reasons for my being upset by the change of plans.

Everything turned out to be good in the end as we did have a nice time. The lunch was good and full of fun and some good laughter all around. The most satisfying part was that Nani was having a good time and that's what finally mattered to me.

Chatting away with some friends in the night (thanks to the twelve hour internet pack that I had bought yesterday), I could not help but philosophize a bit about life. Here was Nani, all alone and full of life, slowly losing recognition of all those she held dearest to her through out her life. There, just a few days back when I was in Varanasi, was Bharat Bhaiya's new born baby daughter, who is fast busy gaining recognition of all those who are going to be close to her. So much is at stake for one while the other already has her plate full. The difference, however, is negligible. For an outsider like me, who is not in constant touch with either of them, what is important is not to let their attention wander into loneliness...keep them occupied...the methods differ but the objectives don't. Both of them are fragile as fragile can be. Both of them have to be pampered and cared for. Above all, both of them are so…so very dear to me...

What's your lakshya?

Farhaan Akhtar must have had some sort of insecurity when he started to make Lakshya. If he did want to make a war movie, there was absolutely no reason to disguise the real content of the movie in this way. Lakshya, in the end, is nothing else but a well-disguised and well-presented war movie. The movie does talk about the frustrations, ideology and final salvation of an individual but the backdrop is beautifully crafted as the Kargil war between Indian soldiers and Pakistani mercenaries-cum-soldiers.

Hrithik Roshan is Karan Shergill, who wanders around in his laid-back style and weird yet suitable hairstyle and is reminded, more often than digestible, by his girlfriend that he does not have any 'lakshya' in his life. The girl friend is Preity Zinta, who plays the role of the journalist Romilla Dutta. She does look good in her new hairstyle and some exceedingly well-chosen outfits that suit not only her personality but also the kind of role that she plays. The movie begins in the present with Hrithik having just joined the regiment headed by Colonel Sunil Damle, played to perfection and yet wastefully by Amitabh Bachchan. In fact, any other actor could have played the character of Sunil Damle and Amitabh was not really required for the role. If at all Farhaan wanted to effectively use the services of an actor of Amitabh's caliber, he should have chosen a meatier role for him and could have actually shown him to have some real influence on Lieutenant Karan Shergill finding his 'lakshya' (the aim of his life).

As it turns out in the flashback, Karan was a laid back person studying in Delhi and having absolutely no idea as to what he wanted to do with his life and career. Boman Irani, who is insipid in his small role, plays the well-enacted character of his father. It probably is a tribute to his astonishingly good comic performances in his last two movies that a relatively serious role in this movie, albeit small, may not be appreciated. Karan is in love with his classmate Romilla who has plans to follow in her father's footsteps and take up journalism as her career. Romilla is the steadying influence in Karan's life and she encourages him to take his first decision when he decides to go for an army career. When Karan comes back from the Military Academy days later because of the strict regimen there, Romilla greets him with disdain and literally tells him to either be a man and stick to his guns or beat it.

Karan re-joins the IMA, becomes a competent army officer and is posted to Kargil sector. He comes back home, vindicated for the cruel (tsk...tsk) remarks of his girl friend. He even takes revenge in a scene where he calls up Romilla and when she wants to meet up, tells her that since she decided not to meet, he will be the one to decide when to meet....ridiculous, what?

Anyways, he is called back from his vacations when the war starts and that is when the movie really picks up the pace. With Romilla too joining the war scene as the reporter (remember she wanted to be a journalist) covering the war for her news channel, the story moves into top gear. The war scenes are well enacted and directed. Instead of wasting the footage trying to do justice to all the big names in the movie (as was the case with earlier war movies like Border and LOC), the war is shown with Karan as the central character and it does make the necessary difference. Somehow, the viewer is able to identify netter with the theme and the individual frustrations and adrenaline rush of the soldier.

Hrithik Roshan does a fine job with some well brought out emotions at the correct places. He subtly manages the change from the laid back Karan to the extremely disciplined and determined Lieutinant Karan Shergill. The change in hairstyle and the clothes are definitely helpful but he also seems to have grown as an actor since Koi Mil Gaya. Preity Zinta is good in her role and does look like a journalist. She has avoided the temptation to look glamorous and has instead gone for a look and acting style that suits the character of Romilla Dutta, the journalist, to the tee. Amitabh Bachchan and Om Puri are excellent, as usual, but utterly wasted. Having watched the movie and the utter lack of space that Amitabh had, I seriously failed to understand the hullabaloo over the casting of this movie and Farhaan's said disputes with Amitabh.

Farhaan Akhtar has done a good job if he wanted to make a sincere war movie that is shown from the perspective of the current generation whose members are widely believed to have no aim in life and even if they do have some aim, those aims are frivolous according to many. He has succeeded in making the viewer empathize with Hrithik's character and finally rise to a crescendo with Karan Shergill realizing that the aim of his life is to fight for his country's honor and his actually achieving this aim by winning an army post from the Pakistanis in the Kargil war.

The music and songs are good and do not look out of place in the flashback portion despite the 'Main aisa kyun hoon' song actually coming out of nowhere. The songs in the second half, although a part of the story and supplementing the mood, somehow seem to be an extra. The background music is unexpectedly quiet for a war movie but does set the mood as and when required. Also, since most of the movie is shown from an individual's perspective, the silences and the tastily done background score suitably reflect the pensive atmosphere in the second half.

To summarize, if you want to watch the movie because it might give you a taste of Dil Chahta Hai, please stay at home. If you want to watch the movie as the second of the three June releases of Amitabh Bachchan, please stay at home. If you want to watch a movie that entertains you without requiring you to put the slightest stress on your mind (Main Hoon Na, anyone???), please stay at home. If you want to watch a sincere, well crafted, in its own genre movie that entertains you as much as it makes you think, you have your Lakshya.

The glory of old

Banaras Hindu University is in deed, a great institution. Despite the four years that I stayed there for my engineering degree and even during the course of my two later visits to the place, the very grandeur of BHU's mansion-esque buildings have never ceased to amaze me. The sprawling hostels, the tree covered pathways, and the vast stretches of lush green fields play their own roles in enhancing the face value of this astonishingly beautiful and huge university.

There was no specific reason for this particular visit of mine. It was just that I was in Varanasi and had to meet my cousin who stays near the university. Since I was in the vicinity, I decided to drop in. My cousin had some work and could meet me only in the afternoon. I had started from my uncle's house in Chowka Ghat early in the morning right after my breakfast, and so I thought it better to complete my BHU visit first in the schedule. An auto rickshaw from the Cantt. railway station dropped me at the gates of BHU and I could see Mahamana Pandit Madan Mohan Malviyaji standing there, watching and blessing the university's hallowed portals.

I decided in favor of a regular rickshaw instead of the auto for my journey inside the campus as the latter would have hardly given me any time and space to watch any and all changes. I was right but wrong, too. I had not really thought of any change in particular but just had the impression that some things would certainly have changed since the last time I was here. However, the changes that I had expected were nowhere to be seen.

BHU was still the same old campus that I (and all my batch mates, I am sure) have been familiar with. Mahila Maha Vidyalaya (WC for the IT-ians) still had the guys waiting patiently for the ever-elusive girls who were busy chatting up elsewhere in the famous phone booth there. Madhuban still had that odd couple sitting there, holding hands and sipping the Pepsi they had bought from the Madhuban Cafe. Faculty of Performing Arts (FOPA) had some enthusiastic people discussing a forthcoming event in full earnest. Although I could catch only a few words, they were enough to fuel my somewhat dormant memories of the college festivals. I could also see the students lining up in front of Maitri Jalpaan Grih for their morning breakfast.

The biggest of the memories came flooding back when I reached the Vishwanath Temple (VT for the IT-ians). The temple was standing, as usual, in all its glory, the benchmark of all buildings in BHU and the guiding tower of the institution. The bevy of shops surrounding VT had no new faces and the lassi shops, the studio, the paav-bhaaji shop, the juice corners, and especially the samosa-tea shops including Bihari's shop were all there, waiting for their customers. Before enjoying a sip of the old days through the mouth-watering delicacies, I decided to pay obeisance to Vishwanath Bhagwan whose blessings have made all that I ever wanted possible.

As has been the norm more often than not, the shoe stall had the phoren maal sitting there, adjusting their cameras and talking some gibberish in their language. It did seem a little odd when I had to pay for keeping shoes in the stall. The BHU Identity Card used to be my only ticket and payment during all my previous visits to the temple. The temple, too, had its share of couples holding hands and there were even a couple of guys in jeans and stylish tees which told me that their probability of belonging to IT-BHU were quite high. My thoughts were vindicated when I saw them vanish round the back gates of the temple.

The special tea and samosa at Bihari's stall were the most exciting part. Sitting at the same place that all of us friends used to make merry for four years made me all nostalgic. The feeling was special not just because this place was a part of my institute. It was special because of the memories that it carried, of the discussions that took place, the plots that were hatched, the people we made fun of, the birthday parties we had...so many memories that I really can't do justice to all of them.

My return journey was through the hostel road (Raja HarishChandra Road for the quizzing enthusiasts). Limbdi Corner (I made a detour), DG Corner, Morvi Hostel were all the same, though a little silent because of the vacations. Birla and Broacha were still as menacing as they have always been in the stories we have all heard at IT-BHU. IMS had a new lecture theatre and auditorium in their name (I could almost imagine the efforts by IT Cultural Wing guys to book it for their events).

Nothing had changed BHU over the past two years and as I was leaving the place, I realized that most probably, nothing would have changed BHU over even longer periods. The institution is so historic that it absorbs any and all changes that its current occupants decide to bring about. The situation was a little different, however, when I moved outside the campus. There were quite a few shops that had mushroomed all over the place. The most notable ones (keeping in mind the latest developments, even amongst the student community) were a number of ATMs and an equally big number of mobile phone shops that littered the Lanka landscape.

Host restaurant had finally lost the battle for survival despite somehow managing to break even in spite of getting milked dry in sponsoring the numerous festivals of IT-BHU. Our branch was the beginner of the Host downfall. How can I ever forget the way we sold the idea to Host owner that two 50% concessions are equal to one 100% concession and how can I ever forget all that followed the Housie stall in the Valentine's Day fete??? The poor guy might not even have got a flat in the high-rise building that has come up in the place where the restaurant used to exist in its entire sponsoring splendor.

Having met my cousin for lunch and a little stroll to the Assi Ghat later, (the weather was exceedingly pleasant owing to the intermittent showers that have been visiting Varanasi over the last few days) I was ready for my next stop, Sankat Mochan. The temple has gained special importance for me ever since I started my Tuesday fasts at the end of my third year in college. I had been thinking of visiting the place for quite some time and after the IIM results and my sister Priya's amazing success in her B.Com examinations, it sure was high time I bowed my head at the temple. The red 'sindoor' and the chants of Hanuman Chaleesa created the mood as the sticky red 'teeka' cemented my ties with this historic Varanasi city yet again.

I am back...but leaving soon

It seems ages since I blogged last but believe me, it hardly appeared a day to me. Home is one place where I forget everything else, yes even the blog. I do not have much choice too. There is no PC at home and the nearest cyber cafe is about 5 kms into the city (5 kms is one hell of a long distance by Buxar standards). To add to all this, the storm that came a day prior to my arrival in Buxar uprooted some trees which conveniently fell on some electric poles and as a result, there is no power in this district for the past 5 days. Welcome to Buxar, my home town!

The journey home was broadly uneventful apart from the now-usual discussions about the latest cabinet at Delhi and our beloved Laloo's role in the same. In fact, one enterprising young guy on the adjacent berth was mouthing the possibilities of the diffrent sweepers/pantry workers actually being Laloo in disguise. The beautiful girl on the upper berth was quite interesting, too...especially when she used to ask me for help in opening the cabin door as she had a lot of stuff she was carrying in (she almost always had a lot of stuff whenever we reached a major station...mostly a couple of magazines and some biscuits and stuff). The train did not go all the way to Buxar and I had to change trains at Varanasi. Getting down in the Varanasi heat from the air conditioned compartment of an express train and getting into the general compartment of an inter-city passenger was nothing short of hell.

Two days at home and it was time for the 'Maa' of all stormy nights. It seemd as if it was a special way for the nature to greet me on my birthday with another violent storm. 9th June had hardly started and my parents and sister had just wished me Happy Birthday (with the help of the 12o'clock alarm that my sis had set on her mobile). All of a sudden, the bedding started flying from the terrace (which is our bedroom in the summers at Buxar, what with no electricity and an almost heavenly wind blowing in the night). We could hardly hold on to our stuff as the wind raged and bellowed with abandon. I know that it sounds melodramatic but that is the way it was, especially it being my birthday and all...

I guess that I do not have much more to write about since I have not been doing anything worthwhile at all for the past few days. I plan to go to Varanasi on the 15th (after we have celebrated my parents' anniversary on the 14th) to meet my newly born niece and later, I might go to Patna...only then will I be able to get in staeady and constant touch with the outside world but till then, sayonara...

Anjaana...Anjaani...

What a tremendous experience! I truly believe it to be something which is of the once-in-a-lifetime types. In case anyone is wondering over what I am talking about, please refer to the song Anjaana...Anjaani from Yuva. I bet that you would have noticed Kareena Kapoor and Vivek Oberoi wearing life jackets, lying on a motor driven raft that is splashing across the waves of the ocean. We did this and much more.

Ravi had come in quite early for the party and he had to cool his heels in the office reception for quite some time. A delayed and short exit interview later, I was all ready for the long day. Bijon had made all the plans and made bookings for what is called the Catamaran dive (I am not sure if I have the spelling right). There were ten of us and apart from Bijon, who had had this experience earlier, all of us were pretty apprehensive and scared about the safety factor. Numerous attempts of chickening out later, we were all ready in our life jackets, looking as terrified as hens waiting to be slaughtered. The life jackets being worn out and torn at places did not help either.

Since we were the first customers for the day, we had to drag the raft from the shore to the sea. All ten of us, yes...all ten of us sat on the raft and two life-savers with their motor propeller and nothing else, started steering us towards the sea. The journey was exhilarating, to say the least, With water coming on the raft, or rather the raft going inside the water, it hardly seemed that we were on some structure above water...it was as if we were all being carried away by the waves to some unknown destination. That destination proved to be some two kms from the shore where, as one of the life savers smilingly admitted, the dept of water was some 500 meters.

The life jackets and the absolute confidence emitting from the life savers had emboldened us and all ten of us actually jumped into the deep sea, clinging for life to the rope tied to the boat. It was an amazing first few minutes and probably the scariest ones of my life. Panic was clearly written over all our faces, especially when we started to lie down on the water with our backs facing the sky. Soon after, however, we were able to control our bodies and lay in a more comfortable position with the sky above us and the water below...oh my God, absolutely heavenly. We were all scared and shouting at the top of our voices to keep the panic down but that was when we started. Ten minutes on the surface of the deep sea and we were all singing...Anjaana...Anjaani

This amazing experience was followed by two games of cricket, not too keenly contested but fun anyway. The fact that we played on the beach, with the running made difficult due to the sand, made the game all the more interesting. Before we noticed, it was already dark and time for us to take the showers and be prepared for the dinner. Dinner was at a new restaurant called ECR Dhabba...quite decent food and at a reasonable price, too. Bijon, Nitin and Sathish went out for some drinks as it was not available at the restaurant (pretty surprising, given it was a highway restaurant). This actually bugged me for some time, especially when we had to finally cancel the movie because of the delay and the fact that everyone was tired like anything.

I really had the time of my life and was so tired when I came home that I fell asleep before I had the time to change my clothes and locate the bed. Pradeep, our landlord came in the morning to give us the draft for the advance amount. He really is a nice guy, making it a point to come over and give the money himself so that we do not face any problems on our last day in Chennai.

Missing you...

When I started writing this blog, I thought that it seemed a good idea to have more and more people read the blog. Somehow, the statistics related to the number of visitors to the blog fascinated me. I even tried to trace the IP addresses of the visitors to know who visited my blog and how regularly. Lately however, I have been writing some things that I really don't want to invite people to pry into. The question that comes now is that if I really don't want people to know these things, why am I writing them in the first place. I don't know the answer. I have been writing for only a month now and yet, I have somehow started to depend on writing stuff to take it out of my system. It is such a relief when I sit down and just put fingers to keyboard and let out all that I have been thinking for the past day. Also, there is another thing that I promised to myself before I started writing this blog. I would be honest, if not to others, then at least to myself. And so the journey continues...

I am not sure what hit me yesterday. I had been getting signatures on my release form and just meeting up people generally. Since Puneet had a dinner engagement at his boss' place, I decided to call it a day and return home at about seven. All alone and biking through the Chennai traffic on a relatively cloudy evening, my thoughts automatically turned towards Nana. It has been difficult for me to digest the truth that he is no more. Since I just went to Patna for the funeral and came back immediately after, I have not really felt the loss. Since that unfortunate day, for the past eight months, Nani and everyone back there in Patna has been feeling the absence of Nana everyday in their lives. For me however, it is nothing different at such a radical scale. I am still away from Patna. I still talk to everyone on phone. I am still not actually meeting anyone physically. It is almost as if Nana is still there, waiting for me, reading his newspaper on the front verandah, with his eyes looking up every once in a while to check if I have come yet.

I grew up in Patna, did most of my schooling there as the schools in Buxar were not good enough. I did not know enough at the time to appreciate what Nana and Nani had committed themselves to, and all for my sake. They had taken over the role of my parents and how well they performed it! I was more close to Nana that I am to my own father. He was so much to me that even if I want, I can not count his blessings. Somehow and for some stupid reason, all this and more came back to me yesterday. I spent the entire 15 km stretch from office to my flat crying...literally sobbing aloud. I don't know how I managed to control the bike with images flashing across my eyes of Nana buying me comics everyday, Nana taking me for rides in the office jeep, Nana helping me cut my birthday cake, Nana lying motionless on the Ghaats, as if waiting for me to come and pay my last respects before he moves on....so much and yet, so little.

Moving out

I have literally been running from pillar to post since the morning. With the HR finally giving me the separation form, I am now supposed to take the autographs of all the department heads at Infosys, Chennai. They are supposed to swear by the undisputed (???) truth that I have no dues pending with their respective departments. I have already had a good start, with four out of six departments in my kitty. I still have another two days to get the thing done with.

Tomorrow, I have to meet Sangeetha, HR head of Chennai Center of Infosys for the exit interview. This is actually a good process if at all, some one bothers to look at what comes out of it. I know that my case is not a norm but more of an exception. Generally, people who leave the company are either disgruntled, complaining employees, or those who have been shown rosy dreams by other companies. In my humble opinion, if the company does take the complaints of the out-going employees seriously, it is in deed a good exercise in introspection. As for the dreamy eyed ones, Infosys can certainly take a lesson on how to retain employees and know for sure exactly what it is that an employee wants from the company. I remember having read in the autobiography of Jack Welch (GE's ex-boss) that GE had a policy of actually making the managers accountable if any A-category employee left GE's services. The emphasis that GE put, even if only, on their top performers is as refreshing now as unconventional it was at that time.

I, for one, have planned to raise a few issues with Sangeeetha tomorrow regarding my experience in Infosys and have even written about the same in the exit interview form. I don't know if it is going to be of any use at all but no harm in trying is what I believe.

I plan to see 'Hum Tum' only when I am back home. There are some good reports about the movie and they couldn't have ruined 'When Harry met Sally' much, even if they tried to. With Saif and Rani doing the honors, I expect the best...anyways, more on that from home

Working for free

I have been working for free once again, and that too during my last few days at Infy. I know that it may sound like cribbing but I am ready to challenge anyone who says that they love working and that too, with the knowledge that they will be leaving the company for good in another three days.

I got the letter from IIMK today and it does require a lot of things for me to do. The difficult things seem to be the Work Experience Certificate and the Medical Fitness Certificate that has to be bribed out of some Government Doctor. I guess that Papa, as usual, will want to take care of all this and ask me to just have fun. This time however, I have decided that I will share the burden (as if it is somebody else's load) and do something on my own, too.

In the long telephonic chat with Nani yesterday, I started to feel really home sick. With four more days to touchdown, I am really becoming impatient. Shanu, my cousin, was telling me about the plans that the entire cousin gang has already made regarding my arrival and stay. They have picked up the movies that we will be watching, the places we will be visiting (what with the new car that Mananmama has bought) and the restaurants where they will suck the last drop of cash out of me. I am really missing them and want to be there as soon as possible and even earlier.