Writer's Blog

This friday, a very interesting film is up for release here. Waiting- starring Naseeruddin Shah and Kalki Koechlin, has a beautiful, humane story at its heart about two people waiting for their better halves to recover in a hospital. Not so, the saga of waiting for film journalists in India, at least. It’s a mix of tragedy, comedy and the kind of frustration that makes you want to hit a stranger on the street, or spray ink on the ‘star’s face (when the wait finally gets over). Here are a few instances of waiting that I shall carry to my grave. 1. While ‘waiting’ for a Khan to turn up for a big ticket news channel interview, in a mosquito infested movie studio, we struck at the blood suckers and delved deep into Ayurvedic classification of human beings. This had been a pastime during a day of banishment by our glowering, angry editor for ‘being entertainment’ in the newsroom. Nupur from my team and I figured out that indeed, we were Pitta people (attuned towards acidity. No surpris...

I woke up sweating, and heard incessant rain beating down on the windows of our humble hostel room. I  realised  there was no electricity! Once a norm in my life as a child in Uttar Pradesh, and a college student in New Delhi, my city slicker existence in Mumbai has spoilt me. I simply couldn’t believe a capital in Eurasia would have no electricity. In a state of slumber, I walked downstairs to the reception to find out more. It was 630 AM, and the part time student/ receptionist told me most apologetically, that heavy rains & snowfall had ensured Tbilisi loses power! Repairs were on. All around me, as dawn broke, well-endowed babushkas, the commonest tourist in Georgia, were sitting outside their hostels, shaking their heads & muttering. Curious, I asked the worried receptionist what were they saying. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, they debate if life was better before or after the Soviet Union, their favorite subject for all weathers. Only a month before...

As always, it’s been a while since I wrote a blog. I am scrapping out a few minutes this morning to put this out, for I believe it’s important. Tons have been spoken and debated around the JNU students (or non students from outside) and their sloganeering. For a natural born cynic with little faith in politicians of any colour and a complete, holistic disconnect from anyone who dabbles in politics, I steer clear of the wrong and right. However, what has concerned me, are the underlying colours of extreme Right wing beliefs and values that have popped up online, on social media, and in multiple urbane conversation circles. To my rather visual imaginative mind, its like spotting neon coloured saffron underwear beneath a sheen of 'education', sophistication and prestigious Engineering/MBA degrees, which leaves a rather unappetising taste in your mouth. While in our free country, and that’s why, messy, chaotic, absolutely beautiful country, what you wear under your pants is ...