Brewing the Koffee on Karan Johar

Human beings love gossiping. Few accept openly that they are interested in other people, but the fact is we do. I love listening to talk shows or celebrity interviews. Most of my time on social media is spent on watching various telly segments about the latest promotion of upcoming movies or “happening” actors of the industry.

On critics

When Karan Johar released an autobiography, it piqued my interest. I liked all his “masala” films and also the “Koffee with Karan” show. I am an ardent fan of Bollywood or Tellywood, or be any creative medium. When someone makes fun of Shahrukh or his acting, I cringe. Who are we do to judge or comment on people? We cannot act to save our life, then how do we be judgemental of other’s jobs? Its their work, which earns them bread and butter, for which you paid Rs.300/- to watch their final product.

A film is not only about the acting of the lead actors; there are so many elements in it. Be it the story, screenplay, editing, cinematography, music etc, and there is a whole lot of invisible work done to portray it on screens. Rather than brutally criticizing it, we can be appreciative of the effort they put into the outcome, however poorly it turned out to be. They too either will be learning from their mistakes, but why tear them to pieces. I have been a fan of entertaining movies, be it mindless or the art film entries. Its like older generation making fun of the computer led young people criticizing them of sitting in front of a screen and doing nothing. They do not yet know the possibilities of computing, and what goes behind to master the art of programming.Continue reading →

Intern at Women’s Web

Going with the theme of being myself, I was determined this year to say yes to many things I wouldn’t have done before. I realized lately that thinking too much can be a weakness as much as it is a strength. Often we weigh the pros and cons while making a decision, even if its insignificant. Rather than thinking with mind, its okay to listen to your heart, though not always. I do not remember any instance in the past where I have been guilty of the decisions I made with my heart. But we have been so conditioned to think twice and thrice before doing anything, that we tend not to pick up the opportunities lying on the path.

This year, while doing my routine random browsing on web, I found that Women’s Web, a popular online community for women has invited for internships, both office based and remote-based. I completed the form in 10 minutes as honestly as I am, but never thought that I would be called or selected. Writing for social issues is a new theme which I have not ever tried writing at, and hence very sceptical, but I hope I can learn something new in the process. Hop over to read some of the articles written by me at Women’s Web.

Welcoming 2017

Another day. Another year. Another retrospection? Not anymore.

I am done with looking back and setting goals. I do know that this maybe a temporary exhaustion, but I am more driven towards achieving little goals which are more practical.

Say, like being happy or enjoying “today” or a day without any guilt or worrying about future. Or saying yes to various things which I haven’t tried ever in the past just because of my inner beliefs, which acted as a burden on my conscience.

Sunrise

This year, the keyword or the tagline I am working on is “Be You”. That’s the mantra people pour out like a river, on every website or blog or counsellor you hit upon seeking for advise. I find it so hard to implement it when its actually simple.

The #LogKyaKahenge attitude is so ingrained in our lives, that though we want to escape from its clutches, and even if we do after few deep breaths, we could see it pouncing on us, whenever we look behind. I suppose the strength to face such invisible ghosts would come only by experience. Just like how as adults we shake away the fear of darkness. The knowledge that there is no actual “Ghost in the dark” or “Bhoots” coupled with the necessary tactics to drive away or face the real beasts boosts our morale to face these fears. Similarly, until I can wisely ignore all the taunts and the inner and outer voices, with the power of complete silence, I would still stumble. But that’s okay, No?Continue reading →

An evening walk.

After long period of dullness, I am roaming around the park in a failed attempt to revive myself. From the slumber of numbness. While waiting for my kid to complete her evening dance class.

I see different people of different ages on the way, while I attempt or rather force myself to a short walk.

Some aged men trying to walk the meagre distance, thereby squeezing the much needed exercise for their fragile bodies.

Old women huddled to each other, gossiping about their illnesses while some others with a smiling face are active in their evening walks.

Children running around are curiously looking at the tiniest leaf amidst the big grass lawn. The full-time maids in their broken English are handling the mischievous bigger kids, while slowly pushing the trolleys which has the cutest babies with wide eyes wondering at the marvellous images and colours of this beautiful earth.

The non stop chattering and usage of phone calls people do while taking a stroll forms the silent whispers of the environment. And the very few face to face talks of people actually interacting with each other provides the much needed liveliness to the same.

The faded shine of the flowers missing their best friend who feeds them whole day and the contrasting greens of the leaves comes across pleasing to the eye. The staff workers seems to be scrambling to finish off their work and return to their homes far away dreading the thoughts of traffic and impending work awaiting at home.

I finally stop my lazy stroll and find myself a place in the white bench made of wood rods. I wanted to pen this down as the thoughts has started overflowing. A stout lady with a dash of lipstick and dressed better than me, sits near me at the other end of the same bench, ignoring the other inviting three benches adjacent to mine. I stop scribbling in my phone halfheartedly, not to miss the thought flow streaming from my mind, and also wondering whether she would find me writing on the notes app installed by default on my phone.

In my older days, I would have given my best smile luring either her or myself to start a conversation. After all we are living in the same apartment complex. The modern form of neighbours which would have constituted a society or a small village on its own in a previous century. But today I was silent. Not even a fake smile wanted to adorn my gloomy face. The words were busy playing football with alphabets and words in my subconscious mind and the throat was dry. Hesitant to talk and feeling uncomfortable I still try to pretend writing as if I was replying to an urgent message. My hands were itching to complete the capturing process and my heart enjoying its stenographer job of its own boss.

Not able to follow my mind properly and write freely, I finally get up to find another secluded space for myself and start walking like many others. Following the crowd. Walking in their own world.