Before there was Brokeback Mountain...

... before there was Ennis and Jack.

... before there was Dostana.

... before there was Sameer and Kunal.

There was Karthik and Arun from Kadhal Desam. And their God of Love, Musthafa.

An Apostrophical Calamity

I am losing sleep. And the anxiety is killing me. I close my eyes and the same sign board comes to my mind.

A closeup of a granny's wrinkled face with the store name under it:

Ladies Corner

Ideally there should be an apostrophe after 'Ladies'. But is it really there? That's the worrying thought.

Oh, for those uninformed, 'Ladies (Ladies') Corner' is a shop in my hometown that sells ladies' items (you cracked it? You genius you).

So next time I visit my native, I will pay a visit to the fish net banyan wearing, mucchad shop owner and correct the typo if there is any.

The Great Indian English Challenge - Edition Deus

If you not commenting, pity will be fine.

Pro Choice

I hate dictations. Remember the spelling tests in lower classes? The teacher would dictate a word and we had to write it. I was pretty good at that; but still, I hated it.

Dictating words is one thing.

Dictating life is totally different.

I don't want a life where I am dictated things. If I am the only one who has to face the consequences of my actions, why should you dictate? For lemonade?

So let me live.

Live smoking.

Live drinking.

Live making out.

Live making in.

Live working.

Live lazing.

Live eating.

Live working out.

Live doping.

Live meditating.

Live travelling.

Live sleeping.

Live playing.

Live fighting.

Live writing.

Live reading.

Live farting.

Live puking.

Live blogging.

Live commenting.

Live thinking.

Live dreaming.

And if you don't agree with me, I will buy you a lemonade. See I CHOOSE to buy. Or I CHOOSE not to buy. You CHOOSE to accept. Or you CHOOSE not to accept.

Dev D - From a curious onlooker

I accept I am kind of a newbie when it came to knowing about Anurag Kashyap. I don't know what made me buy the 2-DVD pack of Black Friday. But well, I put money into it. And it blew me away. Narration that doesn't preach. Editing like it's sprinting towards a finish line in Olympics. Special effects that didn't shout "LOOK AT ME!"

Later I looked into his filmography and was mindblown! Many films that meant something to me. Including the shelved Alwyn Kalicharan. I still remember seeing a small teaser image of the movie. A fleeting glance, but a longlasting image.

Paanch, with its brilliant score. It was like the opening of a floodgate in an unknown dam. We all felt the rush, but never realised where it came from. Watching Paanch is something I want to do before I die.

No Smoking. His first film after I was a true blue fan boy. And was I excited! But a step too many that one. I liked it. I couldn't dislike is more appropriate. But not many others felt the same.

And now, Dev D (I am not mentioning Hanuman Returns, well for whatever reasons). My curiosity is peaked. The trailer runs in my iPod and I hook it up to my speakers and listen to the all-too-short strains of 'Emotional Atyaachar.'

Here is the trailer of the movie.

And here is the poster.

I want to know what you guys think about the poster and the trailer. I know there ain't many of 'you guys' out there. But whatever trickle nevertheless is water.

Picture courtesy: www.passionforcinema.com

Trailer courtesy: Utv Motion Pictures

I know you love me...

... so why don't you buy me a PS3?

Death: Home Delivered

He was probably close to 80. Yellowed teeth (a few missing, probably 'coz they were too yellow), hollowed cheeks and grey hair so light, it was like a dense fog that settled over his scalp. 

He stopped me outside my gate. I presumed he wanted a lift somewhere.

"Can you do me a favour?"

His voice definitely didn't hide his smoking preference. It was a hoarse whisper at the loudest.

"Where are you heading towards?" he asked. 

"Oh, I am sorry, but I am just going to the junction. Not anywhere far."

I rarely like the prospect of giving lift to strangers. Humanitarian considerations have taken a quiet back seat, thanks to Bangalore newspapers.

"I want a small help from you. Can you buy me a pack of cigarettes?"

Now this was more than just a regular dilemma. This has become a moral issue. One of conscience. The man was obviously hiding his desire for nicotine from his family. Else I'm sure he'll have an able-bodied son or grandson to get this task done.

I decided to play the white samaritan.

"I am really sorry. You shouldn't probably be smoking at this age. Plus your family might not really like it. I'm sorry."

There. I have said it. Being someone who smokes a strict four cigarettes everyday (never less,  often more), it was a dire decision for me to make. Does it imply that I don't care about my health as I do about others'?

I brushed the dilemma off my white samaritan uniform. After all, he was pretty old. I wouldn't be smoking at that age. So it's best he too doesn't.

I couldn't get that old man out of my head. I kept thinking. He was asking out of possible desperation. A desperation for something that might seriously affect his health. Now if a packet of cigarette can have such an effect on me, what about euthenesia? Both are questions of personal choice. But to hand it to them, you need someone else.

Can I pull the plug on someone suffering from a possibly terminal disease?

I remain a huge advocate of euthenesia. I am ready to keep money aside for a flight to any country were euthenesia is legal, and get my plug pulled. But who will pull it? If my life doesn't go into progressively deeper ditches, I am sure none of my close family will.

And if ever someone asked me to stop his aching heart from its miserable journey, I don't think I can. There will be a dear someone, somewhere in the world who wants to see the ailing man live how much ever he can naturally. Who am I to decline their needs? Who am I to decline the dying man's needs?

See why this is a question of moral dilemma more than just of personal choice? There is no answer here. My hands are empty. Probably yours too.

As I came back after my short ride. The old man was still there. I don't think there passed anyone else who granted his wish. Will the cigarette pack make his today brighter and tomorrow pitch dark? Is that what he wants? Or a bleaky today and a bleakier tomorrow?

I didn't look at his face. I couldn't stand the question anymore. I was too scared.