Writer's Blog

I wont make any excuses for the looooooong hiatus I took from my blogging. I will simply say to you, that until last week, I had miscalculated my age. Mathematics was never my strong point. But this is one count I shouldn't have messed up.  Now I realise that being born in 1981, I complete 29 years of living life & step into thirty. Thirty. Terrible, traumatic, tragic, terrifying, troublesome. Thirty. Like many before me, I believed that I am above the cliche. And that I wouldnt fear the turn of the decade. Turns out, I AM a cliche. My head is automatically tallying up a lot of facts. And drawing conclusions. Some I shall share here. Money in my bank: None whatsoever. Apart from the compulsory tax savings & some investments made by wise parents & spouse, this ultra important aspect of life is not applicable. I am simply daft about money matters. Career: Exists. Potentially bright. But in frozen mode when it comes to satisfaction. Basically going to wo...

Good Health, wise folks say, is the key to all happiness. But the quest for it, in modern times in  Indian metro cities, is a lot of cost, misery & unending confusion. Let me give you a background of how my thought processes of the medical kind have gotten muddled over the years. I come from a family with many doctors. My maternal grandfather used to be a government doctor in interior Assam during the fifties and sixties. He used to deliver babies in damp outhouses, cycle to stitch up bear clawed tribal folk and come back after his evening tea to stitch up an entire family of peasants, who decided to take swipes with each other with daggers during a drunken brawl. My mother and uncles, as kids, remember peeking into all kinds of mangled people who would bite into their own wrists to keep from screaming out in pain,as huge needles would dig into them without anesthesia. My grandmother would often fill in as nurse when the nurse was off duty, and the doctor never was. My gr...

I suggest you take all prying, protective male eyes (read father, brother & boyfriend) away from this post. And if you happen to like it enough, forward it to all the Bad Boys who have at certain points of time, touched our lives in manifold manifestations. I remember, whenever I have dined out with boring folk, and am therefore wearing the charm of a beatific smile as armour, my eyes veer. They rest and travel to all tables around me. They often land for longer on a man (irrespective of his age) who's armed with a twinkle or glint in his eyes. Sometimes, the eyes take me in enough, and I rarely take the  travel to the man's face. Very often, the eyes hold my attention long enough for my mind to wonder about the lady sitting next to this man. And then, the memories come flooding back. I will skip the specifics of the 'bad boys' I have hung out with. Most of them have been friends from school and college. Some have been more than friends for fleetin...

This post is meant to encapsulate what all women, often end up feeling or growing up to. Or perhaps, 21st century, Indian, working women living in various urban centers.  It's a 15 point piece. Do please let me know your responses to the same. Its after all, your space and your forum. 1. Anyone calling us fat, or mentioning how our hair isn't looking great, or that our skin is somewhat damaged, HURTS. Period. Truth be damned. 2.  Poetry, pearls, flowers,pretty promises and resolutions of faith forever melts our hearts. For centuries, men have made these weapons of our acqueiscence. We ALWAYS  give in to that. Or moves mountains to experience it again. 3. All the shopping in the world versus lacey,soft lingerie. (Preferably french). There's no contest there. Lingerie wins hands down. It makes us feel super beautiful in our own, personal slice of paradise. 4. We can love many men at the same time. and keep it seperate. And if need be, detach from it...

Right now, the background score to my thoughts that flow freely down cyberspace is the masterpiece by Gandhi. Only this time, its sponsored by KFC & some such. Such is the irony of India today:) I actually write in context of our freedom. Not from the British, mind you. I think so much that made sense and that didn't has already been said on that matter. I mean the freedom from the myth of 'beauty'. I spent some slow, unmoving hours in the changing room of Shoppers Stop during sale season before I realised how trapped all women are in the conventional norms of beauty. Each lady took an armload of tops, shirts, shrugs & leggings to try out. And by armloads, I mean serious numbers, big enough to injure a man who runs into that! Then each one crept, stepped, struggled, sucked in her stomach, & did all this to try out the clothes. Then each one called out to a rohan, ratan, akash, joy, jason etc etc etc to check them out! As per my observation in the last f...

I am expecting you to raise your eyebrows in puzzlement  after reading this piece. My thought process began with the folk melodies from Peepli Live that have become the nation’s rage. Composed by my college day favourite Indian Ocean & Raghuvir Yadav, each tune of this film reminds me of the many reporting trips through hinterlands of Madhya Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, interior Maharashtra & even, the brightest shade of green that comes alive in Assam's villages. I am not alone in loving the sound of the hinterlands. Or the sounds of the distant cymbal, dholak & chorus vocals echoing in the twilight from temple or tree top gatherings. Almost everyone in my work place is either humming these songs, or uploading them on their ipods and phones, or discussing their charm. For me though, the connect of Peepli Live's music brought back memories of another kind. When I was in college, in Delhi's university's most colorful institute, Hindu College, I ...

It's been a comforting trip back home to Assam that has allowed me some time off from work, from cyberspace and from a laptop. So the mind is functioning without fog. And the spirit is focused on the right path. Before you think I have turned spiritual, I am actually writing about the one relationship our species hasn't yet been figured out. Men and Women. Us and them. Well, it's never been a very confusing or troublesome bond for me. All my life, men have made better friends. They are less complicated in their reactions. They grunt when they are watching tv. They are utterly lost when I serve them a 'matters of the heart' or 'a relationship' rant. Then they calm down, meditate. And then they ask, " what was that about? Are you upset?" So its basically back to the pavilion. And I Never Ever have the energy to re do the rant. However, as age and mental fatigue fast catches up with me, I am re assessing a few decisions I made about...

I am taking my time to get over some raw earthy, hard core offiice politics. But apart from that, and a nagging monsoon health problem, I have little to explain my lethargy with watching films. I found my break through with a simple, visually surrealistic film- A Single Man. Tom Ford , the iconic designer, has adapted it to screen & has directed this Colin Firth starrer. While it's simply inexplicable why the Best Actor Oscar didn't come his way, it's also inexcusable that  I have taken so long to watch this slice of beauty. A Single Man, I warn at the onset, is Not for the homophobic, closet or otherwise. It deals with one day in the life of a middle aged English professor, who has  to learn to live without his partner of 16 years. Based in the 1960s Los Angeles, America, the film depicts how being gay wasn't so public or easy then. Nothing in the film though goes beyond a subtle sub text of the social prejudices that Colin Firth's character faces. Inst...

As always, the words have been in hibernation. And the trigger? Summer. Somnumbulence. Sleepiness induced by mirage like heat haze. And of course, demotivation. Key word in my program these days. De Mo Ti Va Ti On. Some in my work place might be baying for a taste of my disgusting blood right now. Some, the better ones, are often constantly over worked, over screamed at, and live in a huge, bobbing, surreal, space capsule. A space ruled by fast, feckless commands and constant edginess. But they will agree on the de motivation.... We all are. Hanging our heads down, staring so hard onto our computer screens so hard, hoping to pierce in a few explosive holes on the monitors Just by staring. U see, the menial masses that run the functional, superficial yet superciliously arrogant and smug Indian news media industry, lost out on a whole 36 months of pay hikes. The cause given was standard, factory line, store front excuse- the recession. Of course, the recession was also the phas...

I have once again almost forgotten my log in details to my blog. So I am guessing by now you know it's been a while. I am struck by sudden inspiration today to write again after having watched two fabulous, out of these world films last night. How did I source them? Well, let's just say I have my means of doing so. The overbearing, killer Mumbai heat had given me enough excuses to put off any creative persuits. Be it writing a blog, or taking up a swimming class, or meeting up with friends, I put Everything on the back burner. But the films are always a staple. After all, lying back on my wooden bed, lights out, and two remotes in my hand, Dont' really qualify as effort. I started last night's movie night with 'The Breakfast Club'. A cast of unknowns, this 1985 teenage comedy by John Hughes is an absolute MUST WATCH. Simply to observe how a straight forward story telling tool, of one singular location and seven characters can make an evergreen movie that...

I know it's been a long while since I have written. And it's been a short gap between two outdoor trips for work that also gave me pleasure. And in between all of that, has been a long break of listlessness, of lack of inspiration & of total blah dom. But this time, London took me to Brighton. Beyond my fascination of everyday Brit life in London, and to a dear friend who has rediscovered herself in an education abroad. She looked fresh as a daisy and happy as an IPL fan! I have come back convinced that whatever be the cost of education, it's Always worth it. London is also an experience when you look at yourself, huddled up in old coats and old shoes due to a total lack of winter in Mumbai. While I carry sufficient bills in my wallet to enter any grand pub for a pint of beer or cider, I look very close to the  bumkin tourist, who won't have enough to eat in the Queen's city. Plus the extra pounds and a total lack of make up on my face, and the regular L...

It's been yo yo stress work days for me this week. And in the course of one such yo yo work day, I had to look through a collection of short clips and trailers of Disney's back to basics animation flick ' Princess and the frog'. A film that will as usual, release much later in India than international markets, just a glance through the trailers sufficed to trigger hearfelt nostalgia. I might be sticking out my neck when I write this, but I don't think we in Indian films are EVER capable of producing that quality of animation cinema. In november 2008, I had the good fortune of being offered a media junket to Disney Studios in Los Angeles to cover BOLT. Because of the studio's head honcho John Lassetter's personal involvement with the film, it was a big ticket release for them and all efforts were put out to give it the right push. And a single day's tour of Disney studios clearly established that I had never expected anything as sophisticated as thi...

So I did the unthinkable. In my corporate gulag, somewhat like vorkuta, siberia, went off during sick leave, to watch my name is khan. In theaters, gloating that I got a ticket within 5 minutes of asking, and then I realised that not too many are Really vying for the ticket!! Anyways, to cut a long story short, with a disturbing back, My Name Is khan didn't prove to be as much of any eyesore as I had thought initially. Its got a positive spirit, some fun moments, and Shahrukh Khan, surprisingly, doesnt ham to the heavens! He is in fact, quite good! Although he slips out of character now and then, by Srk standards, he keeps rizwan khan a natural, likeable, genuine character. Kajol is of course, mind blowing, as long as she doesn't start screeching. K Jo does torture us with some mama jenny and hurricane scenes, but then old habits die hard. However, I would recommend a one time watch, if nothing else, then to irk the Shiv Sena and their leaders, who should be shot dead...

It all started with a desire to do something too fast too soon. I woke up early this thursday and decided enough is enough. I MUST thin down. So what if my back is nagging with a slight pain for a few days? So , I over worked out. And while kick boxing, my back wouldnt budge even while I had aimed a kick mid air. So I crept back home. Walking a 2 minute distance in 10 min. And then started to limp over to the emergency room. At one point, I thought I would faint with pain. But I bravely refused to take pain killer injections. Now, I am grounded, for two more days. It's like school only there are no exams to prepare for! Sick and grounded is terribly boring with normal,human things to do during daylight hours. You know, being a journalist for 8 years, I can't think of much to fill my time with, and a broken back doesn't allow too much activity. So it's the comforts of the tube, and spicy fast food. I think many would agree the world wouldn't be a beautiful p...

It's been a very long break since i wrote. And i wouldn't blame  you for forgetting. But  I am back, and I swear will write more regularly. But then promises are meant to be broken I guess. I have been reeeeeelinnngggg positively under constant scrutiny of Srk. Of every word he speaks, he mentions, every tweet he writes, and also, the other big players of B town and their responses. Hazards of the job you say? Of course. But keeping an eye with a slim sized team Is taxing. I don't so much care about participating in a debate about who's right and who's not. And if Shahrukh Khan is playing this card for a film's publicity. All I would like to do, at times like this, is turn back the clock. To my childhood, in Tinsukia, Assam when I was an eager, wide eyed child. My only exposure to the rest of the world was the 7 pm regional news update in Assamese from the local DD station. And the 9 pm news on DD which updated us in a soothing drone  with the perfe...