Saying a lot, saying a little… who cares?
Archive for January, 2009
senescence
Jan 30th
Posted by SEV in staying.in.my.head
I never really realized how the people around me have aged until very recently. Somehow the people I knew when I left India were not people who could grow old. They had dark hair, glowing faces and were always larger than life. And yet, since the day I’ve left.. every time I go back, I see something that reminds me that they are older. It strikes deep that these people are changing even now, a time warp that I cannot stop. And it includes people like my parents. People you believe should never get old. Ever. My mother tells me of recent developments in the family, it is all I can do to assure her that such things happen.. to assure her that everything is OK.
I remember the last time I could spend with my thatha a few months before he passed, and there is a sorrow that I still cannot be there for those who remain. That I cannot do more. That I am currently unable to take care of them the way I want to, the way they should be taken care of. I remember the way their eyes shine on the rare occasions when I get to see them.. the happiness apparent when they see any of us, we talk to them, we sit with them, we are with them. I cherish the 20 minutes I spent walking with my other grandfather down to the general store, helping him over the shoddy footpath, and helping him back home. His smile at the end of it all made me wish I could do it everyday. I remember the hug my grandma gave me after a year and half. Holding my hand, never wanting to let go. The smile when I told her she was looking good that night.
I hate it more because I know it means that soon my parents will be like this. People who I only remember as being young and bigger and stronger than me are slowly showing the signs of age, gray hairs and all. It is a bitter feeling, a sad one, that I cannot shake off. One of my grandmothers is suffering today in a way I did not think possible for her, it is all I can do to hear about what is happening with her. She is being taken care of, true, but such is life that you wish that more could be done.. that she never had to be this way. She has always been a strong loving person, to see her like today is something I could never have imagined. I have vague memories of playing with her before I came back to India in ’94.. I wish I could remember more. There is my dad’s complete archival of all our photos ever.. someday I must sit and see them. They may soon be all that remains of memories that slip away before I can think about them. I want to show them to someone, to describe how wonderful it used to be with these people.
Age is cruel, very cruel.
On the flipside, age is cruel on many things you discover as a child – the concept of ‘dudes’ and ‘awesome’ and ‘bogus’ – some things you watch when you’re 10 years old, and enjoy to the fullest. I remember watching ‘Teen Wolf’ and the sequel and enjoying them completely. The ‘awesome’ dialogues, the great attitude of M.J.Fox.. it was rocking at a different level! I spent weeks replaying the final sequences of the boy (and not the werewolf) reaching for victory. Similarly, ‘Saved by the Bell‘ and ‘Bill and Ted‘ and ‘Boy Meets World‘ or any of the other 80′s shows and movies. To my rosy memory each of these had special places among the few ‘neat’ things that I watched when little.
I rediscovered them recently.. and somehow the magic has jaded ever so slightly. ‘Teen Wolf’ stands revealed as M.J.Fox riding the wave of ‘Back To the Future’. I was jumping, awaiting the DVD from Netflix.. willing myself to enjoy something I had seen nearly 20 years ago.. but some things cannot just be. One part was bearable, I could will myself back to the child who watched them.. but the second (which is a tad badly made anyway) stood stripped of the memory. The TV serials, somehow, those amazing lines and great timing breaks down more a little. This is not true of everything I’ve watched back then – some, such as ‘Back to the Future’, ‘The Wonder Years’, ‘Tom and Jerry’ are ageless. I watched ‘Bill and Teds Bogus Adventure’ only to realize that ‘dude’ and ‘awesome’ and ‘bogus’ were not mere words.. they represent a time and place when things were simpler. It does not seem like such things can exist today.. the world is a lot more complicated, and people expect so much more. Being able to live through hell, beat the Grim Reaper at ‘Battleship’, watch Hammerman save the day, even the gentle humor of a ‘Lisa Card’ seemed so brilliant back then, with snappy dialogue and neat stories.. every aspect of it seems tacky at best now, but somehow watching them reminds me of the time when ‘awesome’ really meant something.
And that just makes age even crueler.
the 2 billionth set
Jan 29th
Posted by SEV in staying.general
Yes. I counted to a billion. Twice. Even if Ravan beat me to it.
51. Do you like coffee?
In the mornings. I prefer chai anytime after that. Long-term habit, thanks to college.
52. How do you like your eggs?
Bhurjee-style. Again, college. Again, I’ve never quite managed to make it the way they did in college.
53. Do you believe in astrology?
Nope. Entertainment value at best.
54. Last person you talked to on the phone?
Slightly smart person working at the idiotic Student Accounting Office at Rutgers. *&$%^$@#$%!
55. Last person on your missed call list?
Shivangi, for some reason.
56. What was the last text message you received?
Warsha, saying that she exists. 20c spent on something that’s free for networks. America, I tell you.
58. Number of pillows?
Two. One’s all out of shape.
59. What are you wearing right now?
Blue (unwashed) jeans, Boston tee, brown sweater, socks, Sketchers, and a jacket hangs in the background.
60. Pick a lyric, any lyric:
“Yeh Dilli hai mere yaaaar.. Bas ishq mohabbat pyaaaaaaaar..”
61. What kind of jelly do you like on your PB & J?
Blackberry.
Blackberry.
62. Can you play pool?
Virtually, yes. Practically, barely.
63. Can you swim?
Yep. Since I was a tiny tot.
64. Favorite ice cream?
There’s a chocolate sundae combo that’s divine at Baskin Robbins. Otherwise, something random at Thomas Sweet.
65. Do you like maps?
Yes. Its really cool to navigate the driver with an actual printed map.
66. Tell me a random fact about yourself:
I enjoy comics. I wonder why I ever stopped reading them so ardently.
68. Ever attend a theme party?
Yes. I went as a ‘grad student zombie’ so I didn’t have to actually dress up.
69. What is your favorite season?
Rain. In Bombay.
70. Last time you laughed at something stupid?
Mentally, all the time. Out loud, yesterday I think.
71. What time did you wake up this morning?
Vaguely interrupted at 6 am. Officially out of bed at 930 am.
72. Best thing about winter?
Hot chocolate. Snowstorms.
73. Last time a cop gave you a ticket?
June 26th, 2007, I think.
75. Name of your first pet?
Nada. Really want one. Will be called ‘Devil’ after the Phantom’s dog, then.
76. Do you think pirates are cool or overrated?
They’re Arrrrsome!
77. What are you doing this weekend?
Anoushka Shankar concert on Saturday evening. Outside of that some work, and some doing nothing.
78. Birth date?
Obviously, got done with that a week or so ago.
79. What do you want to be?
Someone good. Someone with a PhD. Teaching. Smart. Happy. Cool. Way too many things.
85. Are you on a laptop?
Not right now. It sits at home.
87. Are you smiling?
Nope. This blog-writing is serious business!
89. Do you miss someone right now?
Yep. Terribly.
90. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Permanently: Bombay. Vacation: Paris.
92. Are you in high school?
I got done with that only about 9 years ago. Damn, that’s a long time ago.
93. Do you have a crush?
One permanent, one that keeps changing with my wallpaper.
94. What is your favorite name?
Toughie. Indy. I have my reasons.
95. What color is your swimming suit?
Grey stripes.
96. Does your school start in august?
I am not in school, I’m at University. Fine, fine, grad school. Which started in August, got done with in Dec, and restarted now. I did not notice any of these stops and starts.
“The most deadly error mortal man can make, with the exception of calling a school a college, is to call a college a school.” – P.G.Wodehouse, The Pothunters.
97. Did you go on vacation last month?
Yes, kinda.
8. Have you ever been on a cruise?
Heh, yeah as part of MICCAI, we got to go on a Sunset New York Golden Line Cruise. Turned out to be more fun than I expected.
99. Do you have a sister?
Yep. Painful person cost me 40c with silly SMSes.
100. Are you upstairs?
Yes. And there’s an upstairs for me too.
101. Are you in love?
Yes.
102. Have you ever been in the hospital?
Once for me, quite a few times for someone else. The last time I was there, sucked horribly.
103. Do you wish you could see anyone particular right now?
Hell, yeah.
104. Who is it?
The to-be missus.
105. What are you going to do after this?
Drink coffee, procrastinate work, restart work, meet advisor, take over planet. You know, the usual.
Continued from here.
26 is more…
Jan 25th
Posted by SEV in staying.thoughts
…than just 2×13. And when I say that I don’t mean its actually ’20+6′ or ’30-4′.. but that 13 still seems to be only yesterday. And 26 is here, right now today. Already.
…than what I expected. Some developments have happened in my life which appear to be almost unreal in their effect. Yes, when I refer to ‘developments’ I am referring to that special someone that you talk of in veiled terms.. as I am now. Funnily enough, I can’t get enough of the fact that I can actually call someone a ‘missus’ soon.
…work. More than last year. I thought I had it bad last year with 2 conference papers due in a month.. but apparently having even one causes you to stay in the lab until 9pm on your birthday. And therefore this year has seen a suitably delayed birthday celebration on this blog.
…realizations about the self than I thought was possible. You think you know who you really are inside, and simply think that the exterior is just some smaller version of it. You can’t always be who you really are.. until one day you realize its no longer about what you think you are.. but more what you are now. And that one thing that can scare you more than anything else.
…rules and regimens that you started forcing on yourself to start being more “normal”. I still find it weird that I want to start following a schedule.. me, who hated the idea since the first time I came upon it. Growing up sucks in that you realize that grown-ups have it mostly right all the time.
…the single thought that its going to become ’30-4′ and less ’21+5′ now.
Anyway, back to reading ‘All-Star Superman’ now.
kung fu khiladi
Jan 18th
Posted by SEV in staying.reviews
Ok, so I can think of a few reasons to have made ‘Chandni Chowk To China’:
- Akshay Kumar was getting tired of doing standard romantic “family” comedy fare, and decided to dip into the innuendo (or as The Todd would say: ‘In your end do‘) fare that most comedies degenerate to at some point. Which in turn would lead to the famed ‘iron man‘ dialogue. Or such gems such as stating that Ms. TSM (Ms. Padukone) has been sent from above stuffed with aaloo (while the eyes stray ever so slightly), later followed up with a classic: “Yeh tandoor kahan se aaya? Kisne seki hai rotiyan?” (while indicating the ‘wrong’ Ms. Padukone’s fake pregnancy).
- Warner Bros decided that the best way to make a huge profit fast was to: (a) Pick top Indian star who guarantees a decent collection in India, (b) Add bunch of Chinese + martial arts, (c) Mix up well. This will ensure the movie can be targeted at roughly 33% of the world’s population. Work out probabilities of how many of them will watch it minimum. Voila tout.
- The crash of the world economy has badly affected China, and therefore craploads of Chinese + the Great Wall (something even M:I was not allowed) were given over to the production in an effort to get things kick started.
Classic Akshay Kumar Bollywood fare + Martial Arts + Prabhuji should have made for a heady potion. Sadly the few moments that the movie allows itself to get zany are the only moments that are worth watching: Akshay Kumar getting booted all over Chandni Chowk by Prabhuji, ‘Chinese Bhaiyon, Saavdhaan!’ in the middle of the title track, Akshay Kumar stating ‘Churake Dil Mera‘ is his forte, Akshay Kumar permanently talking to an aaloo, going from ‘roti belna’ to the ‘iron forearm’ kung fu technique, cosmic kicks and flying henchmen, kung fu somehow being derived from cutting aaloo and gaajar as well as lifting sacks, ‘Chandni Chowk to Afreeeka’.
BTW, for those not realizing it, such a sequel would target the only other major segment of the world outside of Asia. Smart.
And finally, classic dialogue-giri (to the Ganeshji-Aaloo): “Shiv ling par maatha maar maar ke, maar maar ke.. mera maatha halka ho gaya hai… Bappa, aapke Pappa ne bhi mujhe mana kar diya.. please meri baat maan lo.”
it is better to finish than to begin
Jan 14th
Posted by SEV in staying.creative
The man in front of her cowered. Literally. When she visualized the word ‘cower’ she could see a person shaking, bowed head, on his knees, hands clasped in front, the body bent over with the burden of fear. This was the exact picture presented to her right now. But then, it was to be a tad expected: he had a gun lightly touching the area near his hairline. A soft-nosed bullet would spray the wall behind him with the innards of his skull, a hard nosed bullet would simply rip apart the head. Even moving very quickly, the cower-er would probably die. The safety-catch on the gun was on, she released it with a resounding click. For the person in front of her it was the first sound in 5 minutes, and probably had the effect of a thunderclap. The involuntary shudder was testament to this. The tip of the gun never wavered. The shudder was precursor to the first set of tears.
“Why?!”
She did not touch him, and continued looking down at him. The man hunched over a little more as the tears flowed more freely. The body was racked with silent sobs; her only reaction was imperceptible: to release some of the tension in the arm wielding the gun. The after-effects of gunshot recoil can be pretty bad when you hold a taut arm while firing. She rolled her head from one side to the next, pondering the man who was fast turning into a wreck as she watched.
He looked up. Red eyes pulsated on a teary face contorted with emotion as he yelled “Why?!!” His eyes searched her face, her body, her stance for a reaction. Nothing. He opened his mouth to yell, and stopped before he started. The pointlessness of the exercise had been realized. He had also probably realized that he was going to die. Her finger curved around the trigger. One involuntary twitch and it would be done. Emotion was replaced by wariness. The question remained in the eyes. Why?
“Whatever I have done, is it worth killing me over?”
She remained impassive.
“I deserve at least a final word. Something.”
The questions in his eyes were gone now, they glazed over as memories came back. He would probably stem the tears, and smile ever-so-slightly as the good memories came back. Takes about 30 seconds of remembering. Bang on cue, he responded. She waited a while longer. She wasn’t cruel. Merely unemotional. A few minutes later, she rapped him on the head. His eyes re-focused on the gun, and the fear returned. His mind was racing now trying to put everything together. She gave him another 25 seconds, and opened her other hand which had been innocuously hanging by her side in a balled-up fist. Lying slightly off-centre her palm was a signet ring. He squinted while trying to stifle the indubitable fear and dread rising through his body. Expectedly his breathing grew harder, as he shuddered and clasped hands tighter in an effort to calm fear. The dread was unstoppable, and when he next raised his eyes to her face it was there. It was all that remained. He knew.
It was time for someone to say something.
His face now mirrored his sagging spirit. He remembered the times in university, the near-playfulness. At the time it was not something to worry about, only something that was done. Illegal enough, but also cool enough. As time went on, it was forgotten. Until now, when he had decided it was a part of him that he didn’t need. He was powerful enough to ensure that most of them disappeared. Most. Not a smart move, thinking that most meant all. Especially when it comes to a group of people. All she had to do was wait. There was no use trying to stop him. Or ‘out’ him. Terms such as ‘justice’ mean little to those who have the power to decide what forms ‘justice’ and ‘law’. Her waiting had paid off. Now, on the pinnacle of the ultimate seat of power, she had managed to get to him. And here he was. On his knees. A gun at his head.
She nearly opened her mouth. He never noticed, the thoughts running through his head had obviated everything else. His eyes slowly dropped back to the ring even as her hand closed it.
Nothing needed to be said.
She put the ring in her pocket. A decision was reached. His eyes went back to searching her face for a reaction, to know, to understand her final decision.
She smiled.
His shoulders sagged with relief. His hands unclasped and hit the floor palm down. He raised his face and looked her in the eye as she shot him point-blank in the centre of his forehead.
She watched him fall ever-so-slowly face first on the ground and his body twitch as muscular control was released. Blood and fluid intermingled and flowed out of the hole. Another shot, this time with the gun touching the centre of his head; skull and bone and brain and blood further splattering her and the ground below as his skull rapped against the floor in reaction. She dropped the gun while looking down at him.
After all this time, he had forgotten that she, his wife, was the first person he should have gotten rid of.
He would have always been the last person she would have taken care of, after all.
