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
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
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 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
Monday, August 6, 2007
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:
stinkingly yours,
khukii
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:
- The chair of state for a monarch, bishop, etc.
- A plumbing fixture for defecation and urination(i.e. a commode)
- 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
stinkingly yours,
khukii
Saturday, August 4, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
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.
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.
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