Comical History

Funny things happens in India.May be thats why Govinda sang 'It Happens Only In India'.Last Sunday i read somewhere that middle school students of a Mumbai institute are being taught history through Comic books.The Comics being read by students are Amar Chitra Katha and the concerned school is going all gaga over their success with students who earlier used to sleep during their history classes.Yea i have had my share of those lovely naps during history classes and i strongly feel that the new comic books are depriving these students of good-for-health and feel-fresh-afterwards naps.

But these kids are certainly relieved if they have a history teacher like i had in my 6th grade, the orange haired, tall and ogre voiced Mrs. B Kang.I still remember the way she used to torture the history ignorant young souls by single twist of their ear using her long devilish fingers.Ahhh Ohhhh it still hurts.When i passed my 6th grade i was happy that i am passing with both my ears intact in spite of all her vicious plans to make me one eared jack ass or rather dumb ass.

Anyways why i am finding this history through comics idea funny is because students would now see cartooned portrayal of historical figures.I have wondered since my middle school about the looks of the famous kings and queens and apart from emperor Akbar who i always perceive as Prithvi Raj Kapoor (smile Ranbeer your family is getting free publicity), i have never been able to imagine the persona of hundreds of other legends who these days are deemed important merely because some road has been named after them.

So now we would be able to see beautiful Begum Mumtaz Mahal taking bath in the private Hammams of Agra fort. She must be curvaceous and sexy enough to beat Katrina Kaif else students would miss the point that she was indeed so beautiful that someone like Shahjehan took pains in the ass to built TajMahal.

The Comic book about Maurya Empire would be even more sexy since we have seen how Kareena , playing the part of Rani Kaurwaki, rain danced in her skimpy clothes throughout the movie Asoka.And though i liked the movie, i still cannot imagine Ashoka the great as SRK since the actual Ashoka could never have looked metrosexual in his times.Therefore the comics must portray Asoka by someone having six pack abs , broad chest and muscular built since thats what it takes to win battles and build such a large empire.(Don't cry shahrukh over your newly found muscular looks, you remain metrosexual no matter what you do).

When you add so much spice to a subject like history, students are bound to take interest, what else this might start a new trend due to a big line-up of period films ready for release.So my dear students don't be surprised if you have Hrithik and Aishwarya visiting your schools for promoting their upcoming movie Jhodha-Akbar.

Lucky Kids.But still Govinda was right when he sang 'It happens only in India'.

Regards,

khukii

Silent Fiction

It was third time when i watched Pulp Fiction.Being a Quentin Tarantino fan i have watched each of his flick at least twice.This one though is the best among his works.One of my favorite movie sequence also falls in it.It is when Vincent, a hitman played by travolta, takes his boss's wife Mia(Uma Thurman), out to a fancy hollywood themed restaurant.It was their first meeting and definitely not a date as put by Vincent.The best part of the sequence is when there were some quiet moments between them. Mia was playing idly with a cherry between her lips and vincent sipping his drink and trying to escape Mia's intriguing looks.

Mia : Don't you hate that?
Vincent : What?
Mia : Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent : I don't know. That's a good question.
Mia : That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.
Vincent : Well, I don't think we're quite there yet, but don't feel bad.We just met each other.

I just love Mia's thought of these uncomfortable silences.I can say a lot of bullshit about them but i think its better to be silent about them. So i would just ask you people 'Don't you hate that? '

Regards,

khukii

PS : Run to your DVD store and buy pulp fiction's DVD if you havn't watched it yet !

enjoy;-)

Ecstatic hypocrites

Another event less week and once more i am confused about what to blog about.Alright i know you must be thinking that its a world cup conquering week and can't be passed off as event less but then too much have been said and written about it and i don't want to ride along with the ecstatic hypocrites who were crying just a few months ago over an early exit of team India from fifty over edition of world cup.When one of my friend described the cheering fans as "hypocrites" i thought its an apt description for them(by the way i was cheering too).

Anyways the euphoria is finally settling down and now its time for those who were left behind to cash something out of the win.So the hockey guys have started sulking and the media is going after the errant NETAS who sat in the front row and eclipsed the players in the welcome ceremony.Only two words from me ' Who Cares ? '.

Regards,

khukii

The Polka Dotted Girl

Standing at metro station i was waiting for Aditya to deliver him CAT study material which i bought for him from nai sarak.Actually he called me up in the morning and asked me if i can buy a CAT package for him since he was really busy and someone needed the package urgently.At the back of my mind i thought how can this CAT package be so urgent for someone since i was struggling to pay it some respect from past two years with no success. Anyways we fixed up to meet at metro station, and here i am standing a good 30 minutes before the slated time since i overestimated the time taken for a walk to nai sarak from my place.

It was my fast today and so the walk through the busy lanes of old Delhi was difficult one, not because i was starving or tired but because the streets are home to hundreds of mouth watering snacks from fruit chaat to kulfi faloda to aalo tikki, and i was unable to relish them due to my fast.Finally i reached the metro station and since i had nothing else to do i started reading an ebook from my mobile (well this has become one of my habit to start reading books while waiting for people and afterwards the books keeps waiting for me.)

I was sitting on the last step of the station's staircase, reading Hilary Clinton's Living History and the lines read 'through a time of profound change and upheaval for women' when someone walked down the stairs leaving a trail of most pleasant perfume i have ever smelled. I looked up and it was a girl wearing black top and a blue short skinny jeans , flaunting a trendy belt around her waist.Her hairstyle was none less stylish with some short hairs covering her forehead and the rest of them were pulled back by a broad B&W polka dotted hair band(her hair style reminded me of 60's actress Sadhana known for her famous Sadhana-Cut). She was carrying a small Reebok Kit bag over her shoulders and it looked though that she was confused about which way to go.

I tried to show some panache and ran my hand through my hairs only to realize that they were chopped off to a length less than an inch only a few days before.Anyways i returned my vision to my mobile but this time i was just faking the act of reading, actually i was more interested to know if the girl gave me a look or is she trying to ask something.I thought i might get lucky today after all every dog has his day.Within my mind it was like - did she?? did she returned the look..no no..yes yea..yes finally she gave me a look (well that look could easily be called blink and you miss it look).By the time i was busy stealing her glimpses through the edges of my mobile she was talking to someone over her cell.All that i could hear was where are you?...come quickly..i am near the staircase..okie..byee.Must be some girl joining her to visit nai-sarak i thought.

And now when she was going to accost me (yes i can tell that by her looks) probably for asking about the way towards nai-sarak, a boy came runing down the stairs and she waved to him.She said hi to him and they moved towards the ticket counter, but being optimistic i never loose my heart and said to myself 'the boy must be her brother' while they were strolling towards the escalator with the boys arm around her shoulder.Thats the height of optimism isnt it?

Soon both of them vanished from my sight and i was left with my mobile in my hand, bored of reading Living History(as if i have read a lot) i kept it back into my pocket and walked towards the escalators.Aditya arrived soon and i handed him that package.We chatted for some time and then left for our places.While walking back to my place i thought that it was not so lucky day today but the dog would have his day someday and till then khukii remains single..!

Regards,

khukii

The Hypocrite

I feel choked when i come across hypocrites. Though i avoid people like that but sometime the net is so woven that i end up as their trap.And when someone whom i perceive as an honest, straightforward and a caring person is the weaver of this net i end up hurt to the core of my heart.It often happens that a person's thoughts and actions are governed by his personal whims and fancies, but he pretends that they have been inspired by his loving and caring attitude and by the righteousness of his decisions.But his words and actions bear no relation to each other.While he is one person on the inside, he pretends to be something quite other on the outside.He gives the impression that his thoughts and ideologies have an objective, positive basis, but, in the last analysis, they are nothing but reflex actions.

Well such persons though hard to catch when they are in their altruistic phase , but can be easily identified when they covertly desire something in the name of their goody-goody thoughts because the vast contradiction between their thoughts and actions cannot go unnoticed.So my advice to all of you would be to beware of these hypocrites and don't turn yourself into one more so if you are one of my friends...!

Regard,

khukii

The Good Old Times

Do you sometime feel nostalgic about things which once used to be part of your daily life and now does not even exist, well i do.This is the beauty of being human, you love pleasant changes, you work hard for betterment and then when you achieve your aims you tend to miss your previous state, nevertheless you forgive yourself by telling that you can still do better and start working for next cycle of change.And the human race keeps on progressing.

I am going to tell something about things i miss in present world which seems to be a complex automaton built upon countless turing machines and running on a string of zeros and ones (huh! that was a smart way to tell that i am a computer engg. Lol). Anyways let me start the list of those things

Sunday Morning Shows : Well i was an avid fan of all the sunday morning T.V. shows when i was a kid. They usually used to be epic dramas like Mahabharata, Chanakya , Sword of Tipu Sultan and of course how can i forget that "yagg" of krur singh from Chandrakanta.Ofcourse when you look at them now they might seem to be ludicrous but i used to cherish them as a kid. I miss that kind of fun, it just vanished with the age i guess.

Chatt Cricket(Cricket on the Roof!) : yea, with little open spaces around our houses what we did as kids was to play cricket on the roofs with our parents yelling at us to come down and we just kept on ignoring them as if they are not loud enough.And then we used to come up with crazy rules which made cricket more suitable for that place.We even had our ways to keep a check on the bowler so that he never delivers a really fast delivery and ofcourse if the batsmen hits the ball out of the ground he was not applauded on the contrary he was penalised by buying us a new ball(in case we lose it). I really miss those good days when we had enough time to do all that stuff.

Summer Holidays : If there was anything we waited throughout the year it was either summer holidays or the Mango season.Holidays used to be so much fun back then, we used to have lot of plans with our family.A trip to a nearby hill station was a must as if they wont let us enter school again if we failed to do so.And who can forget the days we spent at our naunihals, where we really behaved as a king in the castle.And the last few days of holidays were hectic when all of us used to be busy with our holidays homework and projects(which no matter what you do cannot be completed anyhow).Life was so much cool back then.

There are so many more things which i can't even describe, i don't know how well i can describe the times when electricity went off and there were no inverters, so what we usually ended up doing was playing antakshiri with all the uncles and aunts and cousins singing along.How can i describe the times when there were no video games to play and all that we used to play was pithoo gaarm, aais paais and chhepan-chhepai.The times when bisleris were not sold in the trains and we worried if papa will get back into the train in time or not when they were getting down at stations to fill up the water bottle.The times when there were no caller tunes to listen but a simple tring-tring of landlines which used to be in one out of every five households.The times when our teachers were not afraid of our parents while slapping us and when 90% marks would mean a free ice-cream at nearby nirulas (ofcourse i never managed to get 90% but my brother did and we used to share the ice-cream..Lol).

Though i miss all those things and a lot more i know that the world is changing for a better future so the best thing we can do is to feel good about the old times and enjoy the present while working for a bright tomorrow.

Regards,

Khukii

Random thoughts

Why is it that when every thing starts falling in its place suddenly your world is turned upside down and you feel terrible because you realize that things were just happening to you in right way and it was not because you were controlling them.It feels that you are a puppet in the hands of time which appears at that moment to be the most sarcastic script writer having the courage to dump its characters at the crest of their pride and break them into hundreds of pieces.The heroes who rise and fall with time are hence just the outcome of some experiments by time which keeps proving its supremacy as a script writer. Then shall we believe that no hero is absolute in this world and all heroes are unreal, naah!

A real hero would be someone who is not temporal who is beyond the scope of time and who is above the worldly rise and falls.So who is the real hero then? How can we find him? Well the answer lies within oneself, because it was only us who wanted to control things.

Now a million dollar question is why am i saying this, does it makes any sense to me or is it just another night in which i am inebriated by the knocking sleep at my door.Actually i screwed up big time today.And call it my ego or arrogance but i cannot take failure when i am expecting success.I know it is the worst kind of attitude and it takes you nowhere but i am still a person living with a desire to control things, may be the world matters too much to me.One day may be i can rise above this desire to control too, may be i can detach myself from the hands of time and live in absolute rather than relative world.May be....

Regards

khukii

The Girl On Air

Now this is an unusual post,quite unlike khukii, but there is something exciting about it which tempts me to write something like this. Actually its about my growing addiction to a news channel NDTV 24x7. And no its not because suddenly i am more aware of my surroundings its just because of their news reader Nidhi Razdaan.Oh man i have a huge crush on her since i first saw her about 2-3 years back.She is beautiful and carries a brain too.I know its quite uncanny,Lol. She is one of the best TV journalist with lot to say about national matters and foreign policy, she does not sensationalize the headlines but still her news invokes a thought process in the minds of the audience (some serious thoughts in my case..Lol).

Its hard to find such mona lisa "smile" woman who can think like Da Vinci , who can steer any debate towards the right direction and who can still act as a charming girl next door.There is something about her, i don't know what, which makes news by her interesting, she is a terrific news item oops i mean news anchor..!

Anyways i gotta go she might be On-Air now..

Regards,

khukii

PS : She is married :-(

Mahatma Vs. Gandhi

Finally i am back to my blog, it took me these many days to write a new post since i was out of ideas and inspirations.This might be due to the fact that i churned out too many posts in succession and drained myself of ideas.I must have realized that i am a person of limited abilities and the rate at which i was pulling the buckets would soon leave my brain's well dry.Anyways what brings me back here is still not an idea but a movie.Actually since there are not a lot of ways in which i can kill time i went to watch this movie called "Mahatma My Father" with my friends.

The film is based on a popular play called Mahatma Vs Gandhi and explores the torment relationship between Gandhi and his eldest son Harilal.It saw some good performances by Akshaye khanna as Harilal and Darshan Jariwala as Gandhi,it also boasts of one of the best cinematography of indian cinema by successfully recreating the pre-independence era.But it seems as though the editor slept on his desk while editing the movie.Anyways i am not here for a critical review of the flick but something else.

When you get to know that Gandhi had a loser son who disobeyed his father and more or less became a subject of humiliation for his father you tend to hate him.But his reasons for being so were well depicted in the movie.I am taking no sides but both the father-son duo was expecting too much from each other.what i was able to make out of the movie is that Gandhi expected his son to follow the same path to glory which he had himself taken.Gandhi was too blind to realize two things.Firstly that not everyone can become a Mahatma.Secondly, that his was not the only path to glory.Every person should set his own goals and work to achieve them in his own way and not copying someone else.Harilal on the other hand was a loser who wanted to be spoon-fed by his father.He was a parasite who always blamed his father for his failure.And when everything failed he tried using his surname to con people off their money.

Gandhi was a successful man but a miserable father.History have seen a lot of examples like this.Indira Gandhi and her son Sanjay is an example which cannot be erased from public memory.Sanjay became the cause for his mother's disgrace at the time of emergency.Sanjay was an idealist but a dictator who used his mother's powers for his own good.Some people even went to the extent of saying that he used to blackmail his mother and his mother retaliated back by plotting his murder.whatever it might be we cannot forget the images of Sanjay's funeral where rock solid Indira donned her dark glasses to hide her emotions from the public.

I believe this kind of torment relationship is not restricted to famous people but can happen to anyone.The main reason being disrespect between the two generations for each other.Both of the generations does not understand the others point of view and pay no respect to it either.So to make the world a better place to live the two generations must be respecting each other's thoughts.
Regards,

khukii

The I

Last night was phenomenal for me , the insomniac , i was watching news channels which were gearing up for Independence day celebration, other channels were untiringly promoting their talent hunt shows on patriotic themes.I got bored switched it off and settled on my couch with the days newspaper only to find that the situation is no different here.The papers ran special sections and columns about the tales of 60 years of independence.I thought better catch some sleep before witnessing another dawn than reading all these clichéd stories, stories which keep on appearing at this time of the year.So i retired to my bed.

I was still sleeping when somebody called for me.Yeah, i was sure that someone was calling for me so i payed attention to the voice which was getting louder and louder.The voice belonged to a woman, i can tell that, and it was husky too.I was wondering to whom it might belong when she said i am the I, i was going to pinch myself to get out of my delusions when she said can you tell my story to my people. At that moment the idea of being in delusion seemed to be more promising one then to be in the real world.The woman started with her story, here is the account of what i can recall. She said in her husky voice-

I am the I, the I of India who have always been special to her people.They have always given importance to the I and ignored the rest ndia. But i want them to understand that i am incomplete without the rest ndia. I want them to love India and not only I, the I which makes them selfish, which makes them think about their own interests, the I which represent their self , their ego.On the contrary I must represent India and nothing else. And so tell them what i ,the India have told you.

I am 60 years old or you can say 60 years young, it depends on your perspective. Sixty years ago they decided that i must pay a price for my freedom.They took my arm away but i thought may be its better to be silent then revolt. Soon a lunatic killed my favorite son ,the preacher of non-violence but i kept mum.I was ruled by many ranging from cambridge educated Nehru to pee toasting Desai, the soft shastri to tyrant Indira, the pilot Rajiv to kargil Atal, the kannad Gowda to Italian Sonia. But my journey remained painstakingly similar throughout.I was betrayed by chinese in 1962,and pakis in 1999 and i realised that nothing have changed. A tyrant used her powers to impose emergency for her self interest and i was helpless.Another did not used his powers to prevent the riots and i was still helpless.The bottom line is that only the players have changed but the game is still the same.

All of them have used the I and its other forms, me, my,myself but never a collective pronoun. In their thoughts it was always I , me , my race, my party,my powers.It was never like our India ,our people ,our power.The power which must have been shared remained with the few elite ones. My heart aches when these elite people divide the undivided and rule their divided minds. I have seen it all but i can see it no more. Please stop them from dividing, give me some peace, please forget the I and remember your nation, the India.

I was sweating when i woke up,the words from the woman still beating my eardrums,"the India". A sense of shame and pride filed me at that very moment, shame for being a selfish and uncaring son of my motherland, proud for still being her son.

Jai-Hind,

Khukii.

The Voyeur

Almost every civilization which ever existed in the world have something dark about it, the dark always remained under the covers at their times until the covers are withdrawn by the succeeding civilizations who despises their ancestors for those dark truths , not aware of the fact that even they won't be spared by their successors. Today we might disdain the roman palaces because we know of the incestuous relationships , the mother murdering facts about them. But what about us? What can be the shameful secret about our society which would be mocked about by the future civilizations.I started contemplating this subject.

The strongest contender i found among the various evils of our society is Voyeurism.Yes accept it, we are a part of a voyeuristic society.You & I both. And i am not only talking about the dictionary meaning of voyeurism which talks about sexual gratification from seeing others in the act.I am talking about much worse evil. I am talking about the desire to look into others life, the desire to peep into their living rooms and not only bedrooms.The desire to know their latest crush,their pay packages, the lies they tell, the truth they don't tell, the fantasy they are ashamed of, and anything which we are not entitled to know even the color of their undergarments.

Look around yourself and you will get to know that we are indeed voyeuristic. Okay tell me why do all of us wanted to attend Ash-Abhi wedding? why were we interested in the tiniest news about it? why are all the k-soaps a runaway hit?(every other vamp hides behind the door and listen the other vamp...Lol).Why do every other fake or genuine MMS makes hundreds of rounds? Why do people stick to news channels which tries to console a parting couple on national television? Why do we always wanna have our say about every other thing in no relation to us? Why do we need sms polls to give our advice to a confused woman who wants to return to her first husband but at the same time loves the second one? Is this the side effect of democracy? There can be numerous unanswerable questions like these.

Oh now let me put forth the award winning example.Orkut.When was the last time you visited your friend's scrapbook and came back without reading other's scrap to him? It is quite easy to know what is going in someones life using orkut. And accept it or deny it we all have in someway tried to spy on others using orkut. Orkut initiated a new breed of spies i call The Orkut Spies. This is the most ironical fact of this digital & password protected age that nothing is protected.

Governments are the reflections of their societies and hence we see that CIA, MI6 and KGB are all inventions of our civilization.Though i accept that the need of these agencies cannot be ignored but we need to see that its only us who made their need inevitable.

I am expecting a lot of criticism about this piece of writing but before anyone points out i myself shamefully accept that i am a voyeur or may be the society turned me into one.

Regards,

khukii

The phenyl peddlers

I have been thinking about what should i write next, till now i have shared my nights and birthdays with people around.But what i wrote previously is a sheer piece of shit.Nobody must give a damn about how happy was my birthday and how lonely are my nights.So i thought, lets write something lighter and something relevant outside my bedroom.And you know where i landed up?? in my living room! (what a leap? i wonder).

So what has been a constant annoyance to me for past few years is taking shape of an article here. Anyways let me put more light on the matter.Actually my mom insists that the family enjoys its meal together specially dinner.(she adheres to the notion that the family which eats together lives together).At the time of dinner our T.V. remains on cause either its the time for those made for mom k-soaps or if i get a bit luckier its time for some clichéd news channel which untiringly tell us about a 5 year old boy who fell into a well and how after 2 hours of hardship they managed to deliver a 5 rupee chocolate to him(get a life man!).And if you thought that these things annoy me, wait a minute i am yet to tell you about the real piss off (actually shit!).

What troubles me are the commercial breaks at prime time.I know its the best time for selling anything from pencils to planes but atleast spare us from watching shitty commodes while we are dinning. There are many Roshan Abbas and hussains who dressed up in a sweepers uniform knock some old and fragile looking door.They are always answered by some sari clad woman with unsurprisingly surprised expressions.The task of the Abbas & hussains is simple,they promise the woman a much more whiter and cleaner commode with the use of their brand of phenyl.In the process of showing their sanitary skills they first torture you by showing the filthiest pot you have ever seen in the woman's house itself , then they apply their phenyl to the pot, rinse it and yippee the pot is as white and bright as the smile on the woman's face after witnessing this miracle.And if you don't remember let me remind you that while the whole drama of this shit-pot cleaning is being played to us we are dinning.

So my dear phenyl peddlers it is much in the public interest that you stop shitting while everyone else is eating!

Oh by the way i came across something interesting while writing this piece of shit,there are three meanings of the word throne. According to dictionary-

throne:

1. The chair of state for a monarch, bishop, etc.
2. A plumbing fixture for defecation and urination(i.e. a commode)
3. The position and power of an exalted person (a sovereign or bishop) who is entitled to sit in a chair of state on ceremonial occasions

So next time you are shitting feel like a king.

stinkingly yours,

khukii

The Birthday.

Yes it was my birthday today though technically speaking the dates have changed as per clock but its still 3rd of august for an insomniac like me. It happened so on the very same day 23 years ago that a child was born, a wish was fulfilled and hundreds of new dreams were being forged in the eyes of my beloved parents. I am still unable to find out how many of those dreams have been realized? How many of them died halfway? and how many of them still lingers in the mind of my parents looking for a poised taker in me? It also come to me that many of these dreams may have given way to new ones thus starting an endless cycle. Pictorially may be it can be represented as web of dreams. Me being the one trying to find a way out of this web.

Anyways to convince you that i am still a human being and not the holy spirit let me tell you how was my day today.It was fun.It was like any other day.No no i am not a self contradicting lunatic but just trying to tell you that fun was of same nature and volume that i get every next day. My best friends came to my place.Some wished me over phone.And others just forgot(no complains). But there is still one more category. The category consisting of only a single person. Who must have been mentioned among my best friend but is finding the most bitterest place in my heart at the end of the day. You would think that he forgot me on this so called special day of mine and thats why i am over reacting.I would say that he did not forgot, was among the first ones to wish me. But he behaved as an altogether different person. Attitude was strange but not unexpected.Anyways by the end of the 23rd birthday of khukii a friend turns into a foe.

But people closer to heart matter more than those who are away. So people who were there for me today by any means needs a special mention here.Thank u pam, naval, bibo, nancy and akki if any of you is reading this.

Insomniac nights

Why Insomniac nights?? If i tell the truth i cant decide on a single reason for these sleepless nights, though there seem to be hundreds of thoughts trying to seek my attention, trying to convince me that i dont deserve an unconscious sleep like those around me, i just cannot decide and tell u one thought which wander my mind throughout night.Because by doing so i would be discriminating with other thoughts of mine which i dont like for all of these thoughts are equally close to my heart.These are my only companions of night, i live them throughout the nights ,the Insomniac nights.

I don't know when it started but i was not made nocturnal by god i am nocturnal by chance or who knows it was my destiny. But being nocturnal have its own advantages too. Once you become insomniac and you start tending to be comfortable during night you realize the beauty of night. If days are made for work and nights for relaxing by nature does it mean dat sleeping is the only form of relaxation available to mankind during nights. May be after battling with the rabble during the day someone like me needs to be left alone in the most private solitude of his mind. Now please stop shouting over me stop calling me names because you think i am a loner. If a person needs some solitude to speak to himself i don't think he becomes a loner. I am not a reclusive person i am just a well-self-communication-needy person. So nights are beautiful not only in someone's arms but lonely too.