Now that's what I call an Evening!

SE with the CEO

It has been, as it should have been, first NRN and then Nandan. I would have said Mr. Nilekani but we are supposed to call everybody by their first names. The occassion was Infosys Excellence Awards 2005 and Nandan had descended to Mysore, by choice as he said. A very friendly and nice person to talk to, he makes you feel special while talking to him. He corrected me when I called him a "9 pointer in college" and said that on the contrary he was a "much relaxed" guy and nowhere near 9.

I am all ears!

I further asked him the same question which I had asked NRN, and as expected the reply wasn't any different, though laced with his trademark humour. He obliged the all the autograph mongers, choc-a-bloc with their names and a personal message. No wonder why NRN handed over the reigns of the firm to him.

Mobbed by the junta

The award function followed, with all the DCs videoconferenced. Shabana Azmi was the guest of honor at Bangalore. Having topped FTII and won every award for acting in India at least thrice, she was a befitting candidate for the honor. The awards rolled in, and it was IVS all the way ending up as the most decorated department. And it had to be ... it's my IBU afterall!

Before

The high point for the crowd of course was the free dinner and the DJ which followed, and Boy, did it rock? So with two more days to go for the New Year, it seems a nice run up the Eve before I bid adieu to Mysore.

After

It happened one night.

My craving for music is insatiable, and for some days I've been trying to search sites which can play Indian songs online with windows media player support, because I can't install real player or other software on the PCs here. I knew a couple of such sites, but got really bored listening to the same songs again and again. And guess what, I struck gold. I found this site which has this collection of old hindi film songs, some of them rare ones. I didn't like old hindi film music when I was a child, which is natural because it needs mellowness to actually enjoy it, and it has like soft moss, slowly but steadily, grown upon me over the years. Most of these songs were played overnight, again and again (much to our chagrin!) from the carefully assorted cassettes in the dashboard, during the long car journeys to MP, when Pop used to drive, Mum by his side and all of us, sleepy or agog trying to make sense of it all.
So I started the day(night?) with "yeh mera prem patra padh kar", a song reverberating with the innocence and the pureness of first "love" and brought back the images of the days when "love letters" were written, torn, thrown away and sometimes with much audacity, left on "the person's" desk to be bemusedly found when she returned. Not to mention the storm and the gossip rounds which followed as a result of such gallant acts. While I was smiling all by myself, the track changed and came along an all time favourite, "Ajeeb dastan hai yeh". There's something about this song ... Lata's voice, the lyrics, Meena Kumari, the melancholy, the guitar notes, the pain of unrequited love ... I wouldn't know what. Perhaps all of these in small unmeasured doses, recreating that sweet magical feeling. The songs kept playing ... "rasik balma","woh bhooli dastan, lo fir yaad aa gayi", "khoya khoya chaand","gumnaam hai koi","jab chali thhandi hawa" and many more, each came with a special moment, forgotten to be remembered ... frozen by time, thawed by the warmth of these magical renditions, keeping me snug while the night kept rolling by swiftly ...

Smoke!

A young Amrita Pritam, madly in love with Sahir, once wrote his name hundreds of times on a sheet of paper while addressing a press conference. There's was a profound, though strange relationship.They would meet without exchanging a word, Sahir would puff away; after Sahir's departure, Amrita would smoke the cigarette butts left behind by him. After his death, Amrita said she hoped the air mixed with the smoke of the butts would travel to the other world and meet Sahir. I just wish that now, that she has herself become smoke ... she can be one with Sahir in some other world.

Annie's Song

You fill up my senses,
like a night in the forest,
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain,
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean,
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again...

Come let me love you,
let me give my life to you
let me drown in your laughter,
let me die in your arms
let me lay down beside you,
let me always be with you
come let me love you,
come love me again...


~John Denver

I've been itching to put this beautiful song up on my blog for some time, so beautifully rendered by Denver. It is all over me and I have been humming it right from the pot to the pool. What better day than this to put it on ... Yuletide, eh?

Hallelujah!

It is again that time of the year, the time for carols, time for festivities, for presents and loads of fun. I love the spirit, and absolutely nothing religious about it. I regret that we didn't celebrate Diwali, like we are celebrating Christmas, probably because all the HRs and most of the people were on vacation. Nonetheless, who cares what the reason is? The cristmas tree has been right at the entrance of the GEC for a couple of days now. Me and Donald on our way back from the music room (and the Pantry for a late night snack), just out of the whim decided to pose with the tree. Trecilla, Aubrey and the rest of the gang, Thanks for doing up the tree for us.

Merry Christmas, all you people. Be Good!

Khwaab Bunein...

Aao ki koi khwaab bunein kal ke vaaste,
varnaa ye raat aaj ke sangeen daur ki,
das legii jaan-o-dil ko kuchh aise ki jaan-o-dil,
taa-umr phir na koi haseen khwaab bun sakein,

jo hum se bhaagti rahii ye tez-gaam umr,
khwaabon ke aasre pe katii hai tamaam umr,

zulfon ke khwaab, honthhon ke khwaab, aur badan ke khwaab ,
meraaj-e-fan ke khwaab, kamaal-e-sukhan ke khwaab,
tehziib-e-zindagii ke, farogh-e-vatan ke khwaab,
zindaan ke khwaab, kuuchaa-e-daar-o-rasan ke khwaab,

ye khwaab hii to apnii javaanii ke paas thhe,
ye khwaab hii to apne amal ke asaas thhe,
ye khwaab mar gaye hain to be-rang hai hayaat,
yuun hai ki jaise dast-e-tah-e-sang hai hayaat,

aao ki koi khwaab bunein kal ke vaaste,
varnaa ye raat aaj ke sangeen daur ki,
das legii jaan-o-dil ko kuchh aise ki jaan-o-dil,
taa-umr phir na koi haseen khwaab bun sakein...


~Sahir

sangiin daur = hard/difficult times
taa-umr = entire life
tez-gaam = fleet-footed
meraaj-e-fan = (to reach) summit of art
kamaal-e-sukhan = perfection in poetry
tehziib-e-zindagii = civilized life
farogh-e-vatan = nation's progress/upliftment
zindaan = prison
kuuchaa-e-daar-o-rasan = road leading to the gallows
amal = work
asaas = foundation
hayaat = life
dast-e-tah-e-sang = hands crushed under a stone (helpless)

Stupor

"Her mind is Tiffany twisted
She's got the Mercedes bends
She's got a lot of pretty, pretty boys
That she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard
Sweet summer sweat
Some dance to remember
Some dance to forget"

Yes, we danced in the delirium ... who the fuck wants to remember ?

Get Drunk!

Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"


~Charles Baudelaire

A day well spent!

Okay, the albatross is finally off my neck, and I am so glad it is. And it turned out to be a nice day unexpectedly. Tottered back to my room and ordered a mushroom-onion pizza after we got the "news". Gorged on it all by myself, while drooling over Gisele Bundchen on TV. In between also came to know that India has had a field day at the Motera test. Smiles again!
Then hit the bowling alley with Abhilash, and how! We blew up one whole grand between us, and played "i-dunno-how-many" frames on the trot.

Blue Fuzz!

Lost some and won some (That's the way it works, honey!). They had turned the neon lights, on and we were literally in the "blue" and add to it the rocking music that they play. I get the kicks out of that place!

My first S-T-R-I-K-E of the day!

Raided the pool room, played pool until dinner time, tucked in Malai Chicken with Lachcha Parathha for dinner, checked Outlook for mails, called Gugs, Beast and Ding, came back to my room, heard the song "Do naina, ek kahani" and kept humming it again and again, ended up watching "Sparsh", starring Naseer and Shabana.

Boogie-Woogie ... Bowling shoes!

And as is my wont, became nostalgic over the good ol' DD days, having seen it years ago. A day well spent indeed, a nice one in quite some time. Things turned out my way, kicked ass, had fun, did things that I wanted to, and all that throughout the day. As it ends, all I can say is ... all's well that ends well!

Right Here, Right Now!

Hip Hop never sounded better in an Indian flick, until ofcourse "Bluffmaster"! Rocking video, better song!

When you are old...

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep ;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face ;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars...


~William Butler Yeats

Shahar Ke Dukaandaaron

Shahar Ke Dukaandaaron, karobaar-e-ulfat mein,
sood kyaa ziaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
dil ke daam kitne hain, khwaab kitne mehnge hain,
aur naqd-e-jaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

koi kaise milta hai, phool kaise khiltaa hai,
aankh kaise jhukti hai, saans kaise rukti hai,
kaise reh nikalti hai kaise baat chalti hai,
shouq ki zabaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

wasl ka sukoon kyaa hai, hijr ka junoon kyaa hai,
husn ka fusoon kyaa hai, ishq ke daroon kyaa hai,
tum mareez-e-ranai, maslahat ke shaidai,
raah-e-gumrahaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

zakhm kaise phalte hain, daagh kaise jalte hain,
dard kaise hota hai, koi kaise rotaa hai,
ashq kyaa hai, naale kyaa, dasht kyaa hain, chhaale kyaa,
aah kyaa fughaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

naamuraad dil kaise, subah shaam karte hain,
kaise zindaa rehte hain, aur kaise marte hain,
tum ko kab nazar aayi, ghamzadon ki tanhaai,
zeest be-umaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...

jaanta hoon main tum ko zouq-e-shaaiyari bhi hai,
shakhsiyat sajaane mein ik yeh maahiri bhi hai,
phir bhi harf chunte ho, sirf lafz sunte ho,
un ke darmiyaan kyaa hai, tum na jaan paaoge,
shahar ke dukaandaaron, shahar ke dukaandaaron...


~Javed Akhtar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wasl = meeting with the lover ; Hijr = seperation ;
Fusoon = Magic ; Ranai = Beauty ;
Maslahat = Prudent Measure, A Good Thing ; Shaidai = Lover ;
Fughaan = Lamentation ; Dasht = hands (here) ;
zeest be-umaan = life without cheer ;
zouq-e-shaiyari = interest in poetry ;

Death!

Humein yeh bhi thhaa ghanimat jo koi shumaar hotaa,
humein kyaa buraa thhaa marnaa agar ek baar hotaa ....

~Faiz

Persistence of Memory

Persistence of Memory, Oil on Canvas, Dali

Starry Night

Starry Night by Vincent Von Gogh

Kaisa geet likhein?

Dil ke ujale kaagaz par hum kaisaa giit likhein,
bolo tum ko ghair likhein, yaa apanaa miit likhein?

niile ambar kii anganaaii mein, taaron ke phool,
mere pyaase honthon par hain angaaron ke phool,
in phoolon ko aaKhir apanii haar yaa jeet likhein?

koi puraanaa sapanaa de do aur kuchh meethhe bol,
lekar hum nikley hain apni aankhon ke kash-kol,
hum banjaare preet ke maare kyaa sangeet likhein ?

shaam khadi hai ek chameli ke pyaale mein shabnam,
jamunaa ji ki ungli pakde khel rahaa hai madhuban,
aise mein gangaa jal se raadhaa ki preet likhein ...


~Dr. Rahi Masoom Raza

Zehal-e-Muskin

Zehal-e muskin makun taghaful,
duraye naina banaye batiyan,

ki taab-e hijran nadaram ay jaan,
na leho kaahe lagaye chhatiyan,

Shaban-e hijran daraz chun zulf wa roz-e waslat cho umr kotah,
Sakhi piya ko jo main na dekhun to kaise kaatun andheri ratiyan,

Yakayak az dil do chashm-e jadoo basad farebam baburd taskin,
Kise pari hai jo jaa sunaave piyare pi ko hamaari batiyan,

Cho sham’a sozan cho zarra hairan hamesha giryan be ishq aan meh,
Na neend naina na ang chaina na aap aaven na bhejen patiyan,

Bahaqq-e roz-e wisal-e dilbar ki daad mara ghareeb Khusrau,
Sapet man ke waraaye raakhun jo jaaye paaon piya ke khatiyan


~Amir Khusro

Translation:

Do not overlook my misery by blandishing your eyes, and weaving tales;
My patience has over-brimmed, O sweetheart, why do you not take me to your bosom.

Long like curls in the night of separation, short like life on the day of our union;
My dear, how will I pass the dark dungeon night without your face before.

Suddenly, using a thousand tricks, the enchanting eyes robbed me of my tranquil mind;
Who would care to go and report this matter to my darling?

Tossed and bewildered, like a flickering candle,
I roam about in the fire of love;
Sleepless eyes, restless body, neither comes she, nor any message.

In honour of the day I meet my beloved who has lured me so long, O Khusro;
I shall keep my heart suppressed, if ever I get a chance to get to her trick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This poem shows the brilliance of Amir khusro, and was a daring experiment in those times. The lines of the poem are alternately in persian and brij bhasha. It was due to experiments like these that a pidgin language called Urdu originated. The first line of this poem was filched by Gulzar in a famous (and well written) song of his for the movie "Ghulami".

Waqt

jism kii baat nahin thii, un ke dil tak jaanaa thaa ,
lambii doorii tay karne mein vaqt to lagtaa hai ...

gaanthh agar lag jaaye to phir rishte ho yaa dorii,
laakh karein koshish khulne mein vaqt to lagtaa hai ...

humne ilaaj-e-zakhm-e-dil to dhoond liyaa lekin,
gehare zakhmon ko bharne mein vaqt to lagtaa hai...

~Hasti

Tum Pukar Lo...

Tum pukar lo, tumhara intezaar hai,
tum pukar lo ...
Khwaab chun rahi hai raat beqarar hai,
Tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...

Honth pe liye hue dil ki baat hum,
Jaagte rahenge aur kitni raat hum,
Muqtasar si baat hai tum se pyaar hai,
Tumhara intezaar hai, tum pukar lo...

Dil bahal to jaayega is khayal se,
Haal mil gaya tumhara apne haal se,
Raat ye qaraar ki beqarar hai,
Tumhara intezaar hai...

~Gulzar

O Maajhi Re...

O maajhi re...
O maajhi re...
Apna kinara ... nadiyaa ki dhaara hai
O maajhi re...

Saahilon pe bahnewale, khabi suna to hoga kahin,
Kaagazon ki kashtiyon ka kahin kinaara hota nahin,
O majhi re, maajhi re...
Koi kinaara jo kinaare se mile woh apna kinaara hai ,
O maajhi re...

Paaniyon mein bah rahe hain kai kinaare toote hue ,
Ho raaston mein mil gaye hain sabhi sahaare chhoote hue ,
Koi sahara majh-dhaare mein mile jo, apnaa sahaaraa hai...
O maajhi re apna kinaara nadiyan ki dhaaraa hai ,
O maajhi re...


~Gulzar

Tagged!

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

The tag above is so very err... European... I am happy being an Indian though!

SE7EN Things I Plan To Do:
1. Go to the laundromat and wash all the blasted rags that have taken residence on my chair! (Highest Priority!)
2. Bungee Jump... fall freeeeeeeeely... soar
3. Go to Ranu Raraku, Easter Islands off the coast of Chile.
4. Learn to play the guitar better ... someday...
5. FOCUS on things I do/want to do.
6. Buy my very own i-Pod ... it's fast becoming a necessity!
7. Plan for the next seven things ... tee hee :D

SE7EN Things I Can Do:
1. Stay awake thru nights for no reason at all.
2. Tie a pony ... Yeah baby, finally!
3. Let things slip off my mind darn easily :)
4. Smile all by myself...
5. Blow up my own money ... what a respite,huh!
6. Talk (no big deal , eh?)
7. Swear (no big deal , either?)

SE7EN Things I Can’t Do:
1. Take care of my hair ... the f***ing things just won't stay in place...
2. Salsa .... Gawd, I so much wanted to attend the classes that Radhika (Boy, is she HOT?) takes. 3. Gym regularly.
4. Wake up early (Ma , I still can't do it!)
5. Study while listening to music (it's blasphemous to music!)
6. Stay quiet for long.
7. Manage my time ...

SE7EN Things I Say Most Often:
1. Gawd!
2. Bullshit!
3. Hi, what's up?
4. Aur bolo... (pent up violence surfaces after ppl have had enough of this!)
5. Achcha, ek baat suno...
6. Thank you/The pleasure is all mine
7. Sure

SE7EN Persons I Want To Tag:
1. Kanu (Yeah, tag you back! :D)
2. Gugs (Now there, u r tagged!)
3. Bobby
4. Rishabh (Get a blog, will u?)
5. The Sarangi (Hey, I am sticking to the DEAL!)
6. Bhai
7. Sumit (abey Jha too hi hai!)

Saamaan

"Ik dafaa woh yaad hai tumko,
jab bin batti ke cycle ka chaalaan huaa thha,
hum ne kaise bhookhe, pyaase, bechaaron si acting ki thi,
hawaldaar ne ulta humko ik athanni de kar bhej diya thhaa....
ik chawanni meri thi...
woh lautaa do...
Aur bhi kuchh saamaan tumhaare paas pada hai
Woh bhijwaa do..."

~From Gulzar's "Ijaazat"