Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I don't quite seem to understand why they make South Indian Movies. I mean, sure a few of them are really good - good enough to be copied shamelessly by Bollywood directors.
Having said that however, one doesn't quite understand the pure madness that is created by a lot of Tamil / Telegu actors. I wont talk about Rajnikanth, I have to confess - I am quite his fan myself. Because of two things - one, He's a good actor (he's proved that in quite a few Bollywood movies) and secondly - I love the guy's guts (he pulls of the most wierdest of scenes and make them look 'cool' :P)
But again, back to my ranting - alot of the Tamil / Telegu actors that I've come accross in my 4 years at BITS and month and a half in Bangalore look like what 'uncles' look like when they have pumped out 5 kids, two wives and survive after 50 odd years of eating butter chicken :|
You add to that, the outrageous scenes that you get to see in their movies (my source has been purely YouTube - Search for Funny South Indian Scenes / Vijaykanthand and you'll get my point!). One often wonders, maybe these guys are made stars because no other self respecting young chap would even dare put his image through that kind of turmoil. :|
However, an interesting incident in this city. When I was out flat hunting, me and my flat mate came accross a Real Estate Agency. It claimed to have over 20 offices in Bangalore (we ended up visiting 3 - one in Indira Nagar and two near Airport Road). What was amazing was, every damn office we entered had huge posters of Rajnikanth, a huge potrait hung in the middle with aarti's and agarbatti's in a pooja plate right in front. :) Man, I freaked! It had to be one of the most amusing things I've seen in Bangalore till date. And I hope they are more to come..
Oh yes... Another thing - Dance floors are banned in Bangalore. I've been told its because of some confusion on the part of the Government that Dance floors mean Dance Bars.. :|
Ah, it feels nice.. I shall use this blog now to vent out my frustation at a lot of things that happen here.. The Buses / Autos are my next target! Stay tuned!
- Varun Anand
19th August, 2008
Office
Bangalore
Friday, February 29, 2008
I was walking down a road last night. If you ask me where I was, I'd say I wont remember. Thats quite a funny answer though. Not remembering where you were and then telling a story about it. But then again, I guess the location doesn't matter, its the story that has to do the talking. I often forget the exact details of stories I narrate to people, a wipe of memory that I'm sure is not credited to my advancing age - I can maybe blame that on other things in my life.
Anyhow, back to where I was. It was a dark road that was laid cutting across a forest. I could feel the chilly breeze across my face. As I walked down, I could not even hear my own shoes clicking on the asphalt - the silence getting eerie. I wondered why on earth was this road so empty tonight or why I couldn't hear a soul no matter how hard i tried. Even the wind blowing the dried leaves lying on the floor was doing so silently. I almost had an impulse to check if I could still hear - was this how you turn deaf?
I lit up and started walking briskly. Again, I don't remember where I was heading to, but i felt a resolve in my legs as I moved ahead. I was quite enjoying the silence, but the loneliness was getting freaky. I had trouble focusing my eyes. I could see a leaf clearly, but then it took me a while to zoom out and notice the tree.
And then it happened.
Out of no where I swear, an old school friend crossed my path. Almost scared out of my wits, my cigarette fell. I called out, but she didn't seem to hear me. She just stood there in the middle of the road, fiddling with a tress of hair.
"Fuck you" I said, and moved on. I hate it when people don't pay heed to a call. Its irritating, and makes you feel horrendously stupid for even calling out in the first place.
A whack on the head slowed me down. Bullies from school were circling me. Making fun of the way I combed my hair, spoiling it with their hands. I seized up, thought to myself how I hadn't seen these blokes in years. And what a peculiar place to meet them again.
I walked into my school field, standing near the goalpost. A cricket match was being played, and I thought i saw a reflection in the bowler. It got dark in a second, and I saw the field light up with diyas, hundreds of them. Our school convocation going on, the proud faces of my parents shining. I walked down towards them, and just like my surroundings were bit by a chameleon, I landed up on another road. This one was a humped road, with me standing at a bus stand on its side. A Honda was parked there, from which I took a cigarette to light up again. It felt like the first time I had smoked.
The wind blew again, cold and chilly. As if asking me to turn around, which I did. A majestic clock tower caught my gaze. It must have been 10 : 34 by the look of it. A short walk forward took me to a beautiful temple made out of white marble. The path by its sides looked familiar. I set foot on it again to find myself standing in my hostel wing. A old bottle of McDowells Mera No. 1. lay broken on the floor. A few messages written over it. With my blurred vision, I couldn't quite make out what they said. A spark brought my attention back to the door, as one of my friends lit a cigarette. And as with bees following honey, I noticed all my fellow smokers moving ahead for a drag. Clearly, it was the last one left in stock.
I blinked, swayed my head. Unable to digest where all I had just been. Its not something I could comprehend, but it was like moving through the ages of my life, in parts of course.
Where was I? My mind drifted to those summer days at home, reading about Dumbledore's Penseive in a book. My sister nagging me that it was her turn to read. I got that feeling again. I guess a feeling I had forgotten ages back. The one that makes you feel that Life's never been better.
There was something I was getting conscious about though. I was deaf now, I'd never be able to hear another sound again. Damn, I still haven't heard all the songs I get in the mail everyday!
I spoke out loud, but couldn't hear myself.
Bang
I don't think I was supposed to remember what happened after this, or maybe I think this was the only part I was meant to recall later.
A tall and broad figure lay on the ground. A puddle of blood surrounding it. The strands of brown between the Grey hair revealing its identity.
Have you ever taken a breath like you were in a vacuum? Not gasping for breath, but trying to fill up your lungs to the limit and that too in the shortest possible time? Till they are at the brink of exploding with pressure?
My lungs would have exploded, just that I smoke so much that my mind had a reflex to prevent so much of air going in.
Panting and sweating I woke up. My watch read 3 : 34 AM. And I realized, I had been shot tonight.
Monday, February 25, 2008
A movie to watch over the weekend when you're bored and at loss for enthusiasm to go out.
I find myself lucky never to have been under a surgeon's knife. I know I'll be there someday, but after watching this movie you start doubting whether anesthetics are enough to keep you away from the pain.
An interesting fact on which the movie is based : In an year, about 30,000 people having surgery under the influence of general anesthesia are unable to sleep. The drugs affect the body in such a way that these people are physically paralyzed, with their eyes closed - but can hear / feel the surgery being performed on them. In short, their still awake when they are sliced open (hence the name :P ). With every tantalizing curve and slice of the surgeon's blade they face the excruciating pain, but are unable to scream for help or react. This they say, is called "anesthetic awareness".
It kind of brings me memories of certain dreams that one has every now and then. You would know what I'm talking about, or you may just not remember having them. Its when you cannot control your physical actions within the dream, feeling entrapped inside your own body as things happen around you. The helpless and depressing feeling that surrounds you in that dream is what I could relate to when I saw this movie. Of course, it was no where compared to having your chest sliced open for a heart transplant.
This movie is about a young rich billionaire named Clay Beresford (Hayden Christensen - decent job, just a bit too stone faced in the movie) who has lived his whole adult life trying to better the feats achieved by his father, who died when he was a kid because of a freak accident. Hugely successful as a master of mergers and acquisitions, he's created jobs for thousands and saved a number of companies from being washed away - all with a weak heart.
Jessica Alba (hot, and thats about it) as Sam plays his love interest, a girl who happens to be his mother's assistant and someone he has been seeing secretly for over an year. There is a much treaded Rich boy - Poor girl track which ensues in the movie as his mother (Lilith played by Lena Olin) is kept under the dark over the relationship. Knowing that he doesn't have much time in hand, and being on the heart donor list for over an year (O -ve blood group, very rare.. ) he asks Sam to marry him - against his mother's wishes. (Argh.... some movies just cant do without this, but well having watched it, fits in quite well.. )
And well, as fate would have it, as the two lovebirds are "trying" (weak heart remember? :) ) to consummate their marriage, Clay is paged that there is a heart available for him. He is then prepared for surgery by his friend and surgeon Dr. Jack Harper (Terrence Howard - Nice job!).
Just that when he's put to sleep on the operating table, his body seizes to move but he can still hear and feel as his chest is being cut open for a heart transplant. A few very well shot scenes in the movie make you squirm at the thought of having that done to you. However, thats not just what this movie is about. Clay hears the doctors plotting his murder as they operate on him.
A very interesting concept that could have almost made a superb movie. Just that there is a huge dip in the rush that the movie generates in the end. All in all, a one time must watch. :)
Friday, February 22, 2008
Ive been here before. More often than I'd like myself to be. Its quite amazing how life, though cliched it sounds, brings you back to a point you worked so hard to get away from. A wise man once said that life is like a round about, you pass by each point more than just once.
Just for example, I've had more than a dozen cigarettes which i promise myself to be the last of my life. Sitting alone at the barista tonight, with my cigarette burning up its last few seconds worth of tobacco, i make that dreaded promise again. I know its a tough job giving up something you are so addicted to. A bit easier if forced into it, but a nightmare when you do it out of free will.
Sitting under the orange light, i take a look around to see the number of people lighting up. The familiar scent of burning tobacco filling my senses. I wonder, and with a plunging feeling in my heart, if my visits here would ever be the same again, now that i have kicked the butt.
My eyes are drawn to the girl sitting right opposite me as she lights up. My mind remembers the feeling of content as smoke fills up the lungs, the soothing nerve calming sensation, the relief that sets in as smoke blows out through the nostrils. Ah, I believe life will never be the same again. Especially these moments of solitude, where I have so often found company in my little friend rolled in paper.
Its written in Hindu scriptures that a soul is bound to a circle of existence - life to death to being born again. That funda brings a smirk to my face - the guys who wrote that couldn't have possibly missed the redundancy in life. Its almost as if the supreme forces were just too lazy to cook up a new storyline for mine.
If moksha is excusing oneself from the circle of existence, then i hope, maybe tonight i have taken the tangential path to my life.
As an afterthought, as the orange hues dawn upon me again, maybe not. With my head heavy from even understanding what all i have just written, my zippo clicks - yet again.
Varun Anand
11 : 30 PM
21st February, 2008
Barista, Hotel Sartaj, Green Park, New Delhi ... :)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Welcome to mobile blogging.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
On the way to the desert,
I look back,
the misty blue,
and a face,
Am i leaving something behind?
The Wind rustling my hair,
as if the sky beckons,
and so does the tower,
so do the faces I love,
with just one missing,
Am i leaving something behind?
I dare to smile,
and look ahead,
the corner of my eye,
looks back instead,
Am i leaving something behind?
The glare of the sun is soft today,
but I'd miss that glint,
The sands pile on,
and I imagine a dimple,
I ask myself again,
Am I leaving something behind?
The cold rain hits me,
I'm drenched with emotions,
Bliss being at the top,
'Cos I am leaving something behind,
but for a change,
I have something to miss
0042 hrs
28th July, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
I've fallen before,
I've skinned my knees,
I've bled wine,
I've drank tears,
But just this once,
I hope the grass in my hand doesn't slip,
The moon I gaze at doesn't wane,
The hand i hold doesn't lose grip,
Just this once,
I wish I don't move from where i stand,
As the rain falls on my face,
I wish I never forget this feel,
As a glare of heat rummages through my heart,
I wish I can stay a moment more,
Just a moment,
And just this once,
I wish I don't have to walk back
20th July, 2007
Varun Anand
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Left or right,
My mind seems to be lost,
Avalanched in thoughts
My eyes straining hard,
to see the road ahead
My fingers crush,
Twigs at a time,
A little light coming from the left,
and darkness to the right
I wonder where to move,
I sit like stone,
The brain,
otherwise helpful
seizes to work,
Its been an age,
And with every breath of air
I wait,
For the Smoke to Clear
18th July, 2007
Varun Anand
(I just cant think straight right now!)
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Trickle
Trickle
Bang, I see blue..
The mop of hair on my head colored red,
This wall was meant to hold
meant to hold me back,
but i chose to test it
Another trickle down my forehead,
Another bang on the wall,
I wonder whats on the other side,
luring me to break through
my mind imagining a wide open field
full of poppies welcoming me,
as I bang hard again,
My vision darkening a bit
I persevere,
My head spinning,
but the image of the fields encouraging me
Another splurt of blood,
and Im surrounded by darkness,
And as I hit the ground,
I feel the poppies crush under me,
and as conciousness leaves me,
I realise, I was banging on the dead end.
3rd July , 2007
(C) DATACORP
(Feeling Dark)
Monday, July 02, 2007
Walking down the tunnel,
I see a small shimmering bright light,
glinting at me with all its might,
luring me on,
one more step,
just one more
I walk towards it, and it diminishes
and as I stop, it lights up again.
Almost wicked,
Urging me to go on when i loose all hope,
I think I should listen to my brain,
It warns me against trusting the light,
As i stop, the surroundings urge me to move,
and as I move, the light goes out
Leaving me in darkness
Torturously, giving me a reason to move
and then stopping me right in my tracks.
I take a deep breath and take my chance,
I run for it,
trying to grab the darkness.
I hit a wall,
I wake up from another illusion,
I sit in the dark
till I see the light again.
Varun Anand
2nd July, 2007
(C) DATACORP
(This one is kind of like a different theme to what I usually write on! So read this with a fresh train of thought!)
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Every now and then i sit down,
I have a chat with my friend in the sky.
The round one that illuminates us at night.
Hearing his story, I cant help but smirk.
He says he's bounded to our skies,
Enters them every evening, and stays on till dawn
He tries to run, he tries to escape
but the spring of time brings him back
to stay bounded to those skies
I listen to his ordeal,
his anguish at being tied down.
And with an after thought,
my smile vanishes.
Its not a well hidden secret,
but then again,
I too am the slave,
not of the skies, not of the horizons,
but of the elements enchanting my blood,
my eyes, my mind and my heart.
As if reading my mind,
My friend from the sky looks down upon me,
and says,
"Brother, We're both Stuck a Slave"
28th June, 2007
(C) DATACORP
Wrote this sitting in my car, waiting for mom and dad to finish their shopping...
Monday, June 11, 2007
You see them once, and you smile
In shades of blue, green, yellow and gray,
the spring carried on their wings
and they shower happiness on all.
Butterflies never make you sad,
they ride on winds of bliss.
But then, there are others
the kinds that flutter inside you.
The ones you cant see,
but those that can calm you
and make you nervous all the same.
Otherwise still,
they flutter with the batting of an eyelid,
the advent of a smile,
the forming of a dimple,
or a shine of the eye.
They don't make you queasy,
they light you up to red.
These butterflies in the tummy,
they come and go,
just hope this time,
I can sail through them though.
DATACORP
3 : 30 PM
11th June, 2007
(Sitting in the Indiapicture office, with nothing to do for a change - and thoughts running through my head!)
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
And The World Started Moving Again
And the World stood still then…
As She looked back that one last time…
As I saw those two gems glint at me…
A drop of regret held on to the ends…
The lines of concern on her forehead…
Crossed by a stray tress of hair…
Moving down to meet with rose petals…
That tress of hair reminded me…
There was a connection I made with her soul…
When that flower touched my lips…
But right then… with the gaze of our eyes…
Our souls met…. That one last time...
Those lines had written our fate…
That were setting us apart tonight…
And then she spoke…
And I wish I could have heard her longer…
Instead… all she uttered were words of hope…
Life has to move on she said…
And as regret rolled down her cheek…
She mustered a smile…
Beautiful, innocent, pure …
The way I hoped she’d always be…
If eternal solitude was what it took…
To keep her as she was…
I’d take it with open arms…
She broke the gaze….
And I felt her soul leave me…
Leaving an imprint lasting forever…
For I could never forget that look…
It was then …
I took the path destined for me…
I drank the elixir of love with separation …
And the world started moving again …
- Varun Anand
5:20 A.M., 26th April, 2006
(C) DATACORP
Thursday, April 13, 2006
The Dark Side Of The Moon
They seem joyous
But sometimes I wonder
Are they as happy as me?
They live in the light, yet see darkness
They live fulfilled, still dread emptiness
They are happy, yet fear the clutches of distress
As the rain splashes their faces
They feel the drops, yet miss the warmth in them
They fear the thunder, ignoring the light accompanying it
All they feel is helplessness, the uncertainty
Masked by the plastic smiles on their faces
Tired of searching for elusive bliss,
Not relishing the treat of life they have
Prim and proper they believe themselves to be
Looking for opportunities to shut out the dark
They smirk, they fear, they conspire
Failing to gauge the power of darkness
I see them from where I sit
From this Dark Side of the Moon.
Sad for them, they can’t do the same
But when you begin to see what I can
When smiling at light, you derive pleasure from the dark,
When aware of the joy in sight, you find peace in the arms of misery,
As you feel the radiance of light from a distance,
And still mask the cold of the dark, to find peace with yourself
Aware that you are miles away from the clutches of hypocrisy
When you smile and you are sure it’s pure,
When you know your tears flow from your heart,
When you emote from your heart, than your brain
Corrupted by society and age,
When you know the face you desired is far away.
But the shimmer of hope to see it again makes u live on,
A wish to come out into the light but, only with her hand in yours.
I've been sitting here for eternity
My words blunt, concealing nothing
With hope, lying in the sands of despair.
Someday I hope, you join me here
Someday I hope, the world realizes
How you have to be cradled in the arms of darkness
To appreciate the energy that the light gives you
That day,
I'd welcome you my comrade, my brother
To the Dark Side of the Moon
(10th April, 2006)
© DATACORP