Paradise Pier

Serendipity that’s how I found ‘Paradise Pier’.

The Second Hooghly Bridge runs in from the city and takes a sharp left over Princep Ghat, and then rises into suspension over the river. There is an unfinished ramp adjacent to the bridge, it was the proposed site, but technical reasons eventually pushed the site two hundred meters away. So all that’s left now, is a ramp of a bridge that never was, a pier extending into the river. It’s a wonderful place to be, it’s a mind space.

The bridge runs along its edge into the horizon, the pillions of colored light securing a gently curved suspension. The design born in a quaint quarter of Paris, under the circumspect gaze of a French engineer. Now a reality for another great city, my city Calcutta.

Paradise Pier takes one to the edge of the city, without actually taking one away.

The wide river rolls on silently. The infamous caliginous ‘Calcutta Smog’ hangs over the horizon. Blurbs of light from the opposite bank, diffuses into the night. River vessels float on in torpid motion.

The place means a lot to many different people, each describes it with their own private adjectives. But for me it’s Paradise Pier, a place where I have spent a few evenings with friends, and many nights alone in sleepless dreams.

It’s me on Paradise Pier.

The only survivor of the nightlife,
The moonlight shimmering on the river,
Songs with no videos, running in my head,
Life playing out God’s holy Pantomime.

Its’s me with the Night to my self,
It’s me on Paradise Pier.

It’s you with my mind space all to yourself,
It’s me on Paradise Pier.

Labels: Fiction

Realize this…

Yes I am getting old. It’s a fact now…no longer a fancy.

A friend from college came down for the weekend, he is currently studying business in Indiana, and it’s been over two years since we last met up.

Sample this,
We went to catch a flick and then stuck on at the Mall to do shopping, he wanted to buy shades. He checked out the entire store…these are good for driving, these look like imitation Oakley’s. I on the other hand was looking for a new laptop bag, can I fit my extra battery in this one, and does it have an extra pouch for my organizer?

The sport he has picked up in the last few years is Racquet Ball, a “with it” form of Squash I am informed. My only active sporting pursuit now is, a sedate game of Golf.

We were watching DVD’s one night. We used to watch tons of movies when we were in college, so we were trying to re-live the “movie-thon” of our college days. A quarter of an hour through Van Helsing, I dozed off…he saw the entire flick and then woke me up.

We went out drinking, went to the “Light Horse Bar” at my club. Plush leather interiors, two hundred year old paintings, waiters in cummerbunds and turbans. After that he wanted to hit a discotheque, it was past 11 and we were pretty sloshed already. I gawked at the idea, “Boss I have to go to office early tomorrow”.

So well its true, I am getting old.

“As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do.”

Labels: Revolving Doors

The Twelfth day of Christmas...and the Christmas Price Index.

"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Twelve drummers drumming, Eleven pipers piping,
Ten lords a-leaping, Nine ladies dancing,
Eight maids a-milking, Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying, Five golden rings,
Four calling birds, Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree!"

The Christmas Price Index

A partridge in a pear tree 93 $
Two turtle doves 40 $
Three French hens 45 $
Four calling birds 396 $
Five golden rings 255 $
Six geese a-laying 210 $
Seven swans a-swimming 3500 $
Eight maids a-milking 41.2 $
Nine ladies dancing 4400.13 $
Ten lords a-leaping 4039.08 $
Eleven pipers piping 2053.20 $
Twelve drummers drumming 2224.30 $


The Christmas Price Index 17296.91 $

(From the CNBC Kudlow and Cramer Show)

Expensive, huh?

Merry Christmas ! :)

The King and his Swades

I have always been a big big King Khan fan!
I have had pitched battles with many a non-believer, and trust me there have been many.

I shall admit that he is no way as talented as an Aamir Khan or an Ajay Devgan.

The King Khan though, has Passion.

Passion is not at tangible scrap of reality; one can point a finger at and say, “See this is Passion”. It’s an intangible feeling, an experience almost. Some people have it, others don’t. Some people see and perceive it in others, others don’t know what its all about.

The thing with talent is that it is an already achieved “state”. In that sense it is placid, it is an exposition of an already attained position. Unlike Passion it doesn’t reek of strife and achievement, it isn’t vibrant. It’s the difference between a journey of belief and a pulpit of self-ability.

It’s the difference between a Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed.

Rahul’s world with million-dollar mansions, sports cars and epic love legends, we all know that its surreal, a fantasy world right? No actor with all his emotive talent and ability can make that world seem real. No deal of talent can make, Xavier’s college of ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hain’, seem like a real place.

This is where Passion makes a difference.

It doesn’t attempt to make real, it attempts to make you believe. Talent can at most make an Atheist an Agnostic but passion can make you a Believer.

Reading out a love sonnet from an empty diary (Kal Ho Na Ho)…that can never seem “real or realistic”, but passion can convince you that one can really love like that…that you can indeed find emotion in emptiness, meaning in solitude and love in apathy.

Swades has very relevant spirit and message. Yes technically it’s a step backwards. The editing is poor, certain scenes are quite pointless, and the movie’s structure is at times meandering, it lacks the tautness of ‘Lagaan’.

Comparisons with ‘Lagaan’ is inevitable. But such a comparison would be a bit like apples and pears.

Lagaan is Patriotic. Swades is Nationalistic.
Lagaan is representative of an earthy grass root movement. Swades is about an individual’s journey to his soul.
Lagaan is the robust euphoria of victory; Swades is the vulnerability of taking a step forward.

Labels: Cinema

Ladies and Gentleman... A Flexisexual!

flexisexual n.
Straight man who flirts with gay men to secure attention, a job, or a bigger tip.

Not a Million Answers...only a few forever Questions.

What goes on behind your bright diamond eyes?
Not a million answers…only a few forever questions.
Can I someday hold myself from turning away, before having had enough?

To be in your room, see your little bottles of cream and your colored perfumes.
And then know… that which makes you beautiful isn’t little bottles with labels.

When your hair tumbles down the side of your face.
Wanting to tell you “Why don’t you tie it in place?”
Hoping you never do.
I am always there, to run my hand through it and put it right.

To see you looking down the road, waiting for me to come.
Hoping you’ll always wait… at the door, in the garden, at midnight.
When I am driving, walking, flying…I am always coming home to you.

Looking at the stark murky night sky.
Every moment like the next. Every moment like life.
The stars like your crazy diamond eyes.

To wonder what a fool I was to not walk up to you and say, “I am crazy about you”.
Knowing now, the fear of losing you.

Do you think of me when you walk away?
A bit of you stays back … even when you go.

What goes on behind your bright diamond eyes?
Not a million answers…only a few forever questions.

Of Poems, Prayers and Promises.

There was this song called “The Box” by John Denver. I loved it as a kid, cause it had a nice “rhythm” to it and it talked about kids and a box. I just simply loved it. We had it on LP and I knew just one line from it, I used to chant these lines…slowly and sometimes as fast and as loud as I could.

“The box bound up with chains and locked with locks…”

Many years later, while in college I heard the song again. And for the first time realized all that it said and meant. It felt nice…revisiting a scrap of my childhood…I even remembered the little pithy…

“The box bound up with chains and locked with locks…”

It’s a wonderful song.

“The Box” from the album “Poems, Prayers and Promises (1971)”. John Denver.

Once upon a time, in the land of Hushabye,
Round about the wondrous days of yore.
They came across a sort of box,
bound up with chains and locked with locks,
And labeled "Kindly Do Not Touch, It's War."
A decree was issued round about all with a flourish and a shout,
and a gaily colored mascot tripping lightly on the fore,
"Don't fiddle with this box, or break the chains, or pick the locks,
And Please... don't ever play about with war."

Well, the children understood, children happen to be good,
and they were just as good around the time of yore.
They didn't try to pick the locks, or break into that deadly box;
they never tried to play about with war.
Mommies didn't either, Sisters, Aunts, Grannies neither,
'cause they were quiet and sweet and pretty in those wondrous days of
yore.
Well... very much the same as now, and not the ones to blame somehow,
for opening up that deadly box of war.

But someone did... someone battered in the lid,
and spilled the insides out across the floor.
A sort of bouncy bumpy ball,
with flags and all the tears and horror that goes with war.
It bounced right out and went bashing all about,
and bumping into everything in store.
And what was sad and most unfair is that it didn't really seem to care,
much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for.
It bumped the children mainly, and I'll tell you this quite plainly,
It bumps them everyday... and more... and more,
and leaves them dead and burned and dying, thousands of them sick and
crying,
cause when it bumps... it's really very sore.

Now there's a way to stop the ball, it isn't difficult at all,
all it takes is wisdom.
I'm absolutely sure that we could get it back into the box...
and bind the chains and lock the locks.
But no one seems to want to save the children anymore.

Well, that’s the way it all appears,
cause it's been bouncing round for years and years
in spite of all the wisdom wizzed since those wondrous days of yore.
And the time they came upon The Box, bound up with chains and locked
with locks...
and labeled "Kindly Do Not Touch, It's War."

Labels: Fiction

A thought from a Sleepless Saturday Night...

The most difficult thing for a man...is to understand a woman...(Am sure it’s the same for a woman).

But when a couple marries...or when they commit themselves to do the whole nine yards.

Does the man choose that woman...because he understands her?

Or is it that she is the one he has picked...to spend the rest of his life...understanding...?

Labels: Fiction

The Random Thought Generator...

I think the point at which you realize "you aren’t getting younger" (I wont use "getting old" because its even more ‘relative’ than the expression I did in fact use) is when you have a great many more memories than things to look forward to.
That’s a random thought really, unconnected with everything else.
Some other random thoughts regarding the twin phenomenons of "learning and experiencing" came to mind while driving to work today. Learning and Experiencing by their very nature are "stimulus-response" systems. An event or the apparent lack of an event, acts as a stimulus. The individual responds by,

Collating information and observations drawn from the actual stimulus, and thence reflecting and deriving from this information and observations.

With a real physical world action or intent of action.

Re-arrangement of already existing information.

To summarize, there has to be a ‘delta’. The stimulus – an article in a magazine, a Discman playing Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude, the statement of a law in a textbook, the Taj by moonlight, the rolling waves of the vast sea…etc are all events. If the occurrence of an event causes a "change of state / a delta" in the man/woman exposed to it, we can conclude that a process of "learning and/or experiencing" has occurred.

I know…rather pointless. This whole bit of speculation in the lines above, but it just sprung to mind and kinda stuck on for the whole duration of the forty minute drive, so well – thought ill put it down in a post. Its pointless I know…but as far as the mind goes ‘its current affairs’.

Labels: Fiction

Clint Eastwood meets “Nobody-fucks-with-Dessert-Daddy”

I like reading the Classifieds. Apparently in hack jargon its irreverently called “Hatch-Match-Dispatch”, meaning “Births-Matrimonial-Obituaries”.

Anyway last week I saw this job advert. for a “Jeep driver” in Kuwait. It really made the “fantasy making” machine in the head go into Overdrive. Wouldn’t it be awesome? Driving across the dessert sands from dawn to dusk. Looking at wide expanses from behind a pair of cool shades. With Bedouin headgear to boot. A modern day Lawrence of Arabia sorts.

I would probably drive people from one oilrig to another. A bunch of engineers perhaps. And at the opportune moment, when there is a crisis…something dramatic - like the Computer system controlling the Hydraulics of the rig has gone bust. I’ll make a grand entry and write some nifty piece of code to fix all the trouble. And the bunch of engineers will look at me with awe and reverence, I’ll then let then know in a Clint Eastwood ‘Man with no name’ kind of way that I am an engineer too.

But I’ll stick to my Jeep Driving job. A working class hero sorts, one who is not tempted by the comforts of a white-collar job.

I can almost imagine by self already, driving through the simmering sands with the sun turning the horizon into a blur.

The Bedouin tribes will get to know me of course, as I will be crisscrossing the desserts every day. They will probably give me a nickname or something “The Glimmer man” sorts. Something cool, you know what I mean.

Kids will wave as I drive towards an Oasis, Ill just lower my shades and acknowledge their greeting.

Ill be as cool as one can possibly be.
You know the Clint Eastwood meets “Nobody-fucks-with-Dessert-Daddy” kinds...

Labels: Revolving Doors

A V-String!

Came across “V-String” a few days back. Apparently Victoria’s Secret calls its line of ‘g-strings’ a ‘v-string’. It’s an exercise in Brand Positioning and all of that, but it’s a neat piece of trivia too. That’s what I thought…at least!

Labels: Revolving Doors