Views and Abuse

commentary currency

2010-04-03T05:24:00.000-07:00

The IPL is an amazing venture. Though much has been written about about its pros, cons and con artistry, my issue is with the bastardization of cricketing language as we know it.
A sixer is a DLF maximum, a catch is a karbon kamaal catch and pretty much anything qualifies as a citi moment of success, including the time Ganguly tried to take a quick single and was run out or Laxman attempted a hoick over long leg six and was caught at first slip.
In fact I would not be too surprised to hear commentators say this next.
Ultratech cement number 4 attempts a dlf maximum but a superb karbon kamaal from mountain dew number 23 has given the royal challengers a citi moment of success.
WTF!!!!!
Whats next? Tata nano singles, Run out Reliance, victoria's secret bouncers, even the government might jump in with GOI ducks, Ford stumped and so on...perhaps a viewsandabuse hit wicket.
I have heard rumours of commentators taking special orientation classes to unlearn IPL lingo for other cricketing series. One cannot have Ravi Shastri at the Oval during the Ashes saying "thats a citi moment of success." Especially when its sponsored by Barclays!
While drinking at "The Old Goat' pub the other day, I overheard Danny Morrison and Ian Bishop (respect) saying that there is a box of lights in the commentary box, each pertains to a different sponsor capturing the moment and lights up to remind the commentators to use these phrases.
In fact one would not be surprised to know that the commentators get extra bucks everytime one of these phrases is used. This is how Harsha Bhogle kicked Michael Kasprowicz in the nuts and had his woven hair ripped out.
And Laxman Shivaramakrishnan needs to pay off those gambling debts it seems. Reminds me of a line in Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye, where a reporter keeps saying sansanikhej over and over.

Race - last one out of the cinema hall is a monkey

2008-04-03T23:47:00.000-07:00

Race is a movie of twosomes. A pair of fratricidal brothers, two dolled up, bloodthirsty women and a dull detective duo. This along with a bad side and a boring side. Abbas-Mustan's latest venture, which starts off in pole-position, with an interesting script only leaves quite the skid mark all in the wrong places.
What connects them all? Why their love for money of course, no Ram-Lakhan or Laila-Majnu scene happening here. All this set in the backdrop of a horse-racing empire, there are two horse races in the first 10 minutes and none after.
Saif is the older, assured elder, head honcho and Akshaye is the younger sot, tired of playing second fiddle all the time. The plot thickens with one hatches a plot to bump off the other for the insurance claims, but thins out since everybody bumps into each others buns ever so often, with several poorly timed songs with spine-busting choreography. All set in in Durban, South Africa.
As one hacks through cliched dialogues and philosophical and devilishly charming one-liners all heard before, one wonders why they would even need the money, Saif owns a prestigious stud farm and cheats to win horse races and blows away treacherous jockeys. Akshaye drinks beer for breakfast and they all have 007 gadgets at their disposal. Such is the opulence that the brothers change expensive cars more often than MLAs shift political loyalties.
Amidst this swirling family maelstrom are three damsels, each playing their own diabolical part to imperfection. Kaif is Saif's secretary with love in her eyes and burgeoning dialogue delivery skills, Bipasha Basu is the supermodel reincarnation of Nefertiti, with enough kohl in her eyes to rival the dead queen and Sameera, sigh, Sameera. All three seem draped in a spastic designer's tanturms.
Enter Mr. India himself as a detective in the second half after one sibling dies mysteriously. Kapoor sprouts a new look, dual earrings and several lines on his face, which mirth did not cause. Kapoor hounds the live brother suspecting foul play and eating fruit all the time. A characteristic quirk for laughter relief. Not the first time a quirk is used, but the first time fruit actually causes gas.
There are more twists in the plot than on a screw driver, but the execution at best is boring. There were times when the movie actually surprises you with a 180 degree shift, but that is offset with the above mentioned songs. The camera work is slick at times and some locales quite breath-taking, but no major effort needed there, South Africa is that way.
The car chase scenes are typical; hastened on computers, with mindless, illogical explosions. No sci-fi explanations given. The lesser mention of the songs the better.

Race is for crash test dummies.

Laudable: Katrina Kaif, only when she speaks English; three sentences.
Laughable: Saif-Bips love scene. They seem to keep licking sweat off each other in a barn.
Delectable: The cars...ohhh BMWs, Porsches, Aston Martins and a couple of horses as well.
Deplorable: Cheap comical relief, an overacting Anil Kapoor and Sameera as a "bimbo".

The drool factor: Episode (b) – The attack of the clowns

2008-03-30T06:57:00.000-07:00

To start with a few examples. Ice Cream. At least leave this product to the children, but no…even ice cream has to scream eros. I always thought ice cream was meant for children…I mean I feel this craving for sub-zero milk slithering down my throat every time I see an Amul, Joy, Dasprakash or Vadilal sign. Ice cream has that quality…but to bring sex into this I thought was weird…People are meant to drool from their mouths at ice cream ads…not feel bulges some where else.

Walls ice cream: The strawberry one. Romantic music. Woman leering into the camera. Her beau trying to understand why Rupa rejected him. Sly smiles. Coy looks exchanged. Legs wrapped around beau. Music tempo hastens. A delectable lick on a ice cream cone. End.

Alright…I’m traversing back in time to when I was a kid. If I saw this ad then, I would go yeeeeaaaccckkkkkk. And of course Walls believes the urban young male who see this ad and go, hey forget this chatting, orkutting business, I wanna get an ice cream and attack women with it.

2. Walls brought this nonsense in some years ago, with that ice cream is actually a phallus ad. Some half nude morons are standing with their hands on their crotches, and this dame pretends, maybe actually does don’t know, to check the size of their, umm members. In the end she picks a guy who raises his hands, which are ohh…wowo…holding a foot long bar of ice cream.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

The only upside of this proliferation of women into the ad scene is the employment factor, strictly according to me. I have seen several people (male and female), friends, cousins and others flocking to Mumbai to get a job, which exploits their bodies and sometimes their acting talent. But the women by and large seem satisfied as there are always some ads that randomly require a skimpily clad lass. The men have Rupa and VIP … see Jockey and Hanes use only white six packs and glutus maximuses.

CCTV II: The drool factor episode (a): The Hokum menace

2008-03-30T01:17:00.000-07:00

This is also known as the-rake-your-libido-up-to-extreme-heights-so-you-wanna-run-screaming -out-of-your-house-and-buy-that-damned-product-to-bring-it-to-a-climax.

A few examples to exemplify the above.
Breath mints. Now I do agree that breath mints are sometimes needed to attract the opposite sex. but in these ads...breath mints only bring the sex.

The cos seem to believe their target is the urban male youth. What about older males, who ned a shot of garlic morning, noon and night, what about the toddlers who eat everything in sight, what about women, old people; they need no breath mints. Oh wait...I get it...their libido does not go into overdrive every time they gaze at the opposite sex. FYI have you ever been woken by your dog in the morning when he wants to fertilize the trees outside? I keep a supply of tic tacs by my bedside to avoid being gassed to death. But no...its only the colts who deserve the white stuff.

1. Fresh mint: This has to be the ad that destroys the cerebral cortex and replaces it with bubblegum. In the ad is this peeping tom who runs around doing the most bizarre things in an attempt to scope out women, and gets belted each time and everytime. Sometimes he falls of high ladders, vehicles ram into him and he falls into creeks with boulders. The ends up in a hospital where he eats a fresh mint and viola! Rakhi Savant (the pin-up girl for nasbandi) strips from a doc coat to some green hellish looking thing and purses her lips like she licked 14 lemons, while sucking on cottage-cheese. The guy recovers...so go eat fresh mint. The only connection between the mint and all the above nonsense is that the mint is green and so is nasbandi's hellish costume.

2. I forget the name of this product, but it has to do with the weather changing every time this dweeb opens and closes his box of breath mints. In the end some woman sitting yards away from him walks towards him, they hitch up and end up in divorce soon.

3. Wrigley's chewing gum. This takes the cake, mousse, souffle and pickle. Another guy roams around eating mint and catching women falling trees, planes, oxen, goats, buildings and what not.

Now im thinking fine, mints get you women. But what if the woman has bad breath? None of the ads show women even needing mint. Women like the smell of mint from guys, but don't need it themselves.

The funny bit of this minty series is that the objective is completely lost. Whats the point of parading hapless fellows in an endeavor to get women and it is mint that helps you.

Heres an equation that could help. mint = kill bad breath = helps cover smoking, meat and garlic = immature impotency.
I liked the polo ads. beta sweater peheno. it made no sense, but i like the accent and voice. One will always remember the ad. As for chlormint the green stuff now just reminds me of the nasbandi dame

Crap Commercials that trigger vertigo I or CCTV I

2008-03-29T04:23:00.000-07:00

The recent Bajaj Pulsar is all about taking that mean machine to the max and veiled riders take it to all sorts of places, some which are not even showcased in Mithun or Rajni movies. The stunts are enough to ensure a straight ticket to the X Games..a good idea...now that the Hockey team is out in any case.
However, However the ad starts with a rider (pun fully intended)...The stunts in the commercial to follow are performed by trained personnel, do not attempt these at home or even on the road.
OK lets get something straight...WHY SHOW THE STUNTS IF I SHOULDN'T FRIGGIN ATTEMPT THEM.
The damned riders do things on screen with machines...some of which are actually CGI, which even Optimus Prime wouldn't do without complete insurance.
Bike ads are becoming increasingly inane...another prime example being..the one where some engineering graduate attains Nirvana at a construction site and drops a foreign job to take the Indian one. Mein Aah Rahan hoon India...Toh hum kya kare? aur yeh ghatiya gaadi aur tumara connection kya hain? Aur tumare bakwaas gaadi ke peeche woh paanch vaddi gaddi kiske hain?
Hows about a bike ad where there's this biker sipping on whiskey, gets into a fight with other bikers and belts 'em in a race. oh wait Thums Up already did that.
Lewis Black, the comedian came up with a good one. Three rabbits are sittign on a log and one of them goes home and commits suicide. "Buy a bike".

Turbulence even before you fly!

2007-08-07T00:04:00.000-07:00

Domestic air travel has become more turbulent with customers now having to flash a photocopy of the credit card used to buy the ticket at the check-in counter, failing which fliers have in recent times found their wings clipped. Credit card con men have been given a shot in the arm since all they need is the credit card, no secret pin or password. If scams are popping up all over, credit card security could be slightly improved, but instead customers have to carry photocopies of their credit cards as well.

While flying once, I lost the all-important credit card photocopy. On landing, an SMS told me I used Rs 2 lakh from my card in the last one hour, ‘thanks for using our bank.’ I now fly with a Rs 4 lakh worth finger-print analyser, retina scanner, DNA tester security folder (available in gloss and suede), in which I securely keep the credit card photocopy.

It started with the E-Ticket. Book it online, take a photocopy, memorize the PIN number of the booking and of course, photo identification. Now, all airlines advise passengers in bold and italics to carry valid photo identification. I guess that means I can’t use my Wimbledon Club Card to get on board the plane, I might lob a few tennis balls in the cabin, thus a security hazard. So In my case I use a driver’s license, which was made 15 years ago. The card and I have become older though.

Check-in counter lady: “Sir, who is this in the photograph? We ask for valid photo id.”

Me: “But that is me albeit 15 years ago and no regional transport office would like to work hard to update my photograph.”

“You could be impersonating the customer and a threat to flight security.”

“But I’m eighty years old and need two assistants to help me to the bathroom.”

“You could have sleeping gas in your ventilator, maybe even Sarin nerve gas. Security get this man out of here.”

“No No…I have an appointment with my heart surgeon and my 18-year-old wife waits for me…”

Soon airports might become a nation’s security hub.

At the kennel: “Oh you bought a Doberman you say, have you registered it with the airport’s special dog cell?

At the octroi: “Ah! Are you transporting thirty tonnes of fertilizer? It could be used to make a bomb. Get it scanned at the Airport secure manure department.”

At the toy store: “Hey you with the baby rattle! Take that contraption to the Airport’s hidden-in-what-you-least-expected division and get it registered.”

Happy flying.

Namaste London...Goodbye sanity

2007-03-31T03:05:00.000-07:00

Take one hot looking woman (Katrina Kaif), whose expressions rival even the long dead Egyptian king Tutankhamen, dress her up in the latest haute couture and then write a script that screams "promoting India tourism" (With Punjabi gaon ka chokra Akshay Kumar, who is all praise for India Mother as brand ambassador) and you have Namaste London. Of course for the sake of the same script and the combined sanity of all those who have been drooling about Kaif, the script also has to be borrowed from at least 17 previous girl-boy-another boy scripts that have flopped, (just remembered, the flopped is redundant) and 30 per cent of the movie is shot in English, but has Hindi subtitles.
Set in London and then briefly Punjab, the story weakly follows the travails of the poor confused BBCD (think ABCD) Bimbo, who flits from guy to guy for no apparent reason and wants to stay with her parents as long as they behave like she does not exist. Only later will it dawn that most of the guys she sees are men her father has conspired to get her married to. The opening scene with whatsisname Deshmukh witnesses Kaif in a Punjabi colourful, yet acidic salwaar kameez who guzzles vodka shots by the half-dozen measure, and randomly likes reciting her true-life erotica to strangers. But wait. She's not like this (India mother - big brother), she's doing this only because she wants to get married to a Briton and not an Indian, bad luck Kamal Hassan.
"I've been brought up here (London). School, friends etc are all British, I sing God Save The Queen with my hand on my heart," she says. Her expressions and body language had me saying God Save My Sanity with my head in my hands and feet scraping restlessly on the floor. SO Briton she wants? The Briton she gets in the form of a character who's a combination of a Charles Shultz's fertile imagination and a three-time divorcee and her boss in the movie, who is richer than Prince Charles. Yes her boss's name is (get this) Charlie Brown. Want to drown? There's more the first time Kaif dates her Brown Boss, the duo are out for a spin in his latest Ferrgini or Jagroyce and they have a delightfully charming conversation about Jazz music.
Looking through the corner of his eyes, Snoopy's master: "I love Jazz music." Shot to show Kaif's legs, which immediately move to her face, Kaif (coyly): "I love men who like Jazz." Or something equally ludicrous. More leg scraping and teeth gritting follows. Oh Kaif's name in the movie is Jasmeet or Jazz. Coincidence?
Kaif is warned by her India Mother type colleague, whose role in the entire movie, while showing deep cleavage and classically tanned shaved legs, is to warn her friends who stray from the righteous veda path. And when her friends realise the truth about India and even Pakistan. She claps happily putting the energiser bunny to shame, while showing all 32 teeth colgate and close-up have already started fighting for. But who listens to advice anyway, especially if you have an ethnicity cum cultural confused pea-sized brain. After several arranged marriage boys flops, aging, rotund yet constantly bemused Rishi Kapoor, who plays Kaif's father decides to give her a taste of India. Meaning, major tourist spots shown in their splendour, while the family flies in a helicopter or tilt rotor aircraft. Did I mention, Kaif's family are also stinking rich?
Now come some of the more bearable scenes in the movie with that little bit of humour, a la three boys she sees for the marriage before Kumar comes along. The first seems to think he's Rabbi's incarnate, the second is some unfathomable intellectual who wants to graph the compatibility between Kaif and him, while the third lives in a make-believe Kabhi Saans bhi Bahu Thi world. I love anyone who pokes fun at those shows.
Enter Akshay Kumar. Trumpets, ram horns and two stones. He who wears pink and rides a bullet, he who can milk a cow and fixa car engine, he who speaks English but pretends to be an idiot and he whose hair changes colour throughout the movie from black-brown, to brown, to broen-auburn to auburn. Wow hail to thee Pharaoh Kumar. I will zip along for the sake of whomever, Akshay Kumar in a pink outfit helps the family falls in love with Kaif. Kumar's father - Kaif's father - old friends. Challo marriage is set. Ding ding ding ding ding, walking around fire put garland. Lo Kaif and Kumar are married.
Scenes cut from the final release. Kapoor who is constantly seen enjoying milk products in Punjab suffers a heart attack and is rescued after Kumar given him CPR and other things.
Mummy, daddy, and the newly weds go back to London, where Kaif smirks and tells them the law of London will not recognize the marriage with Kumar. She really wants Charlie Brown; probably fell in love with him when she read about his baseball exploits, or his sarcastic beagle.
Now the roles are reversed, hurrah for women's lib, cause the guy has been gypped by the gal. Watch out future Romeos. But India Mother is in his blood and he tells a wracked Kapoor. "You're here there's nothing I fear, but my heart will go on." The movie is a disaster or titanic proportions I realise.
Time jump again. Brown challenges Kumar and gang to rugby match. Englanders vs sub-continent people. The sub-cons have a flag of India and Pakistan painted on their cheeks (who needs you Manmohan and Pervez) and some othere Punjabi mundas remarkable similar to the off-spinning Bhajji.
Kumar has watched many movies and likes Forrest Gump, for he is a man possessed on the rugby pitch. Just give him the ball and he runs like something anti-India mother is following him. Score after score, team sub-con win. A few scenes later, Kumar overhears a Brit talking about India being a land of snake charmers and BPOs. I laughed so much I swallowed my tongue. The comes Akshay to the rescue, and spews facts and statistics about India which made the entire audience erupt with roars of approval. How many newspapers, magazines, languages, etc etc etc. India mother can be seen giving goo'boy Kumar an Éclair chocolate for his stirring speech. Kaif claps and all but still wants Brown, must like his tan I suppose. But umar persists with never-fail dialogues like, "I will call you 4565564 years from now and ask you about if you're happy, if you're not we'll get together again." One original dialogue stands out like a 3 cm radius pimple on a nose, "I fell in love with you the first time I saw you." Tears stream down my cheeks as the soles of my shoes have eroded and bubble gum sticks to my feet.
Later on, after time jumps, because my brain has become mush I missed about 12 songs and Kumar is her best-man at her wedding with Brown. Skip to Runaway Bride and Kaif says no at the altar and chases Kumar all the way to Punjab, where they go for long rides on his bullet.

The iron maiden

2007-03-24T02:48:00.000-07:00

Saturday, March 17: The sleepy morning stupor vaporizes on seeing the adrenalised bedlam at Mumbai's Chhatrapati Shivaji airport at 4 am. Destination: Bangalore where the multitude of metal-heads in a self-imposed dress code of black shirts, complemented with torn and faded denims, are all headed for Palace Grounds, talking, breathing and living heavy metal music. The occasion is Iron Maiden's concert, the first ever of the heavy metal band in the Indian sub continent. And even their mascot Eddie, joined in, on a specially made "Maiden India" t-shirt, where the skeletal apparition is shown wielding a bat as he whacks a fiery cricket ball.
To my advantage and several others across the subcontinent, the concert dates were announced a month before, which made it wonderful for us all. I, for one, managed to get airline tickets for the price of an A/C train ticket from Vadodara to Bangalore; only I had to board the flight from Mumbai. Hey, who's complaining?Sleep was next to impossible on the train to Mumbai from Vadodara, when in lesser than 20 hours, I was going to witness Iron Maiden. Live. Oh the delirium. I couldn't stop my pessimistic brain from conjuring images of some mishap that would prevent me from attending the concert.
Arriving at the Chhtrapati Airport was like a scene before an epic battle. Armageddon? With Maiden playing it could be possible. Men, women and children, of all ages donned black shirts, each depicting Iron Maiden's iconic mascot Eddie, doing something nasty and violent to either himself or his aggressor. Perfect. I thought it was going to be a lonely wait till my flight took off at 8.30 am, but with these guys and girls in black, talking over heavy metal music, I was going to have the flight of my life.
After the usual post-9/11, airport security nags, I had my boarding pass, now only had to stop the same brain from imagining something horrific on my flight in three hours, but till then I had unlimited company.
Scanning left and right, I spotted a bunch of fans, long hair, straggly beards and dangling cigarettes, discussing Maiden's latest album, 'A Matter of Life and Death.' One was software professional, another claimed to be an RJ, while three others were engineering students. None of us knew the other, but Maiden, metal music and Mumbai airport made us seem like old friends. "It is more Maiden than the previous album, 'Dance of Death' with all the electronic sounds," said one, while another replied, "How does it matter? They all sound good." Yippee!
We moved into the airport, the RJ's flight was boarding. It was 6 am. The flight had about 15 Maiden fans aboard. A half an hour later, the software pro left with another 20 black clad revellers. And Till my flight at 8.30 am, each flight had about 15 fans each, not many Mumbai Maiden fans were going to miss the concert. And neither were those from Delhi, Chennai, Hyderabad and even Nepal, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.
Arriving at Bangalore we all felt on top of the world, nothing could come between the show and us, except for Force Majeure. But it was a beautiful, sunny Bangalore day. Typical.
After a dramatic and non-tearful reunion with long lost pals, we were headed for the concert arena, we had be right in front near the guard rails. The gates opened at 3 pm, but we took no chances, we were there at 2.30.
Now came the hard part, the waiting. The eager and charged up fans would have to wait an agonising five hours, before Maiden delivered us. After an impatient three hours, the show opened with Pune-based KTN, followed by Parikrama and then Lauren Hallis, a UK rock band. The hours flew past and the crowd grew impatient, till at last Hallis's performance was done, and we knew what was next.
The arena suddenly goes pitch dark and a church organ's ghostly strains tears through the air. The 25,000 strong crowd screams, they been waiting nearly a decade for this. Seconds later the lights kick in throwing a devilish red glare on the stage, centring on a backdrop with battle tank driven by a skeletal apparition and his minions. The screaming is now frenetic. The beast had arrived in India and Iron Maiden would leave their impression on us all for years to come.
The power chords assaults us while the deafening drums reverberates across the arena. Maiden's front man Bruce Dickinson does not stop prowling around the specially designed two-layer stage, and as he sings his familiar and distinct vocals seem to grab my insides and shake them about. All around the fans have their hands in the air, while other just stare awe-struck at the gods in their realm and keep bobbing their heads.
From the minute Dickinson entered the stage and began their first song 'Different Worlds', the audience became his. For the next two hours, we are his puppets, and do his bidding without question, whether it is to chant a few lines of a song, or compete with the other side of the crowd in a who-can-shout-louder match. The reward from Dickinson: "You guys are much better." Our side won. 'These colours don't run' follows', but not many in the crowd know the song. The slow haunting lilts of 'Brighter than a 1,000 suns' begins, it is song about the atomic bomb and the power used and abused by nations who own it.
Dickinson laments as he sings, "Burying our morals and burying our deadBurying our head in the sandE equals MC squared, you can't relateHow we made God with our hands."At the end of the song he trails off, "Holy Father, we have sinned."Makes you think.
Another song from the new album; ''The Ballad of Benjamin Breeg' and the band moves to their older tried-and-true numbers, starting with 'Wrathchild' which the band dedicates to the late Indian band Moksha's lead singer Leon Ireland, whose death in December last year was mourned by heavy metal fans all over the country. 'Wrathchild' then makes way for 'Trooper', amidst many cheers and everyone joins in the singing. One of their most theatrical numbers, Trooper has Dickinson in a red army uniform waving battered Union Jacks, which are finally flung away in contempt as the song comes to a close. The song seems to draw inspiration from Tennyson's 'The charge of the light brigade' and the way he waves the battered flag, I couldn't help thinking if Maiden were making a political statement here.
The crowd is a deadly concoction of all ages, from us 20 somethings to the mid-life crisis group, the geriatrics living the old days of rock and other hard substances and then the infants (read between 6 to 16). Chee, lets see an Enrique or one of tose wannabes draw a crowd like this. I feel I've blasphemed by uttering his name.
So far the bassist Steve Harris has been typically solid even as he runs from end to end, guitarist Janick Gers not as wild as he is known to be, drummer Nicko McBrain tries to dismantle his set with the thrashing, while guitarists Dave Murray and Adrian Smith seem to have the time of their lives belting out the solos and playing back-to-back with each other. And Dickinson just keeps gallivanting all over the stage.
Trooper segues to the ever famous and controversial 'The number of the beast', in which Dickinson refers to the mystical 666 after which comes 'Fear of the dark'. With a chorus with the same lines, Dickinson only has to scream, "Bangalore" and the crowd joins in perfectly, as if we've rehearsed it a thousand times. 'The evil that men do' came next followed by 'Iron Maiden', '2 minutes to midnight' and 'Run to the hills'. Gers gets into the mood, he displays his prowess with not just playing the guitar as he hurls it a good 30 feet in the air, snatches it out and keeps playing.
Technology amongst the crowd seemed to us at the time to be the biggest problem with crazed fans that did not seem to care about the music and were intent only on capturing a video of the band on their mobile phones which costs a five-figure amount. A sea of blue light obscured the band and stage frequently as they tried to capture Maiden on puny 2 sq inch phones. These mobile phone cameramen even got into trouble at some spots, with disgruntled fans using violence to persuade them to put their sets down.
Now then onto the revered 'Hallowed be thy name', a song without which no Maiden show can end. We knew this was the last one, and used what energy we had in our depleted bodies to sing with all our might.
However, it was not only us who were in awe of our metal gods. Maiden themselves said that we were one of the best crowds they'd played to. He did manage, "We have played a lot of gigs in front of a lot of fans, but never guys like you. This is a very, very special night indeed."
I knew it would be greedy to want more, but I only wished they sang their other epics like 'Powerslave', 'Bring your daughter to the slaughter' or 'Aces high'. Oh well.
But Dickinson would deliver me from greed, especially when he announced, "You have waited 17 years for this gig, for the next one, I promise you will not have to wait even 17 months."
For those of you who missed it this time, start scouring the Internet for Maiden's next gig in India, which could be sooner that we all think. Hope. I wouldn't miss it for all the money in the world. Metal is here in India, only to stay.
BOX:
The Iron Maiden concert in Bangalore last week signalled the genesis of heavy metal music in India, a phenomenon that has only been growing in the country in the last decade and a half. Last Saturday, Maiden became the first international heavy metal, not rock or hard rock, act to blast fans into a frenzied orgy of head banging and show them the meaning of a true heavy metal concert.
Sure, Bangalore had witnessed a lot of acts prior to this one, Roger Waters, Deep Purple, Bryan Adams, The Rolling Stones, Jethro Tull and Uriah Heep, but none of them rivalled Iron Maiden's display of energy and sheer power, though all the band members are pushing 50. That combined with an elaborate stage set-up complete with a battle tank and a 20-foot Eddie mascot, sealed the show as one of the best ever.
And those who missed Maiden's gig in Bangalore last week may have just missed the first chapter of heavy metal music in India. With the cult-band playing numbers from their latest album 'A Matter of Life and Death' and of course their older, better-known favourites, the Maiden concert was unlike anything Indian heavy metal fans had seen till now.

Abuse

2006-12-25T23:29:00.000-08:00

The Times of india is probably one of the most irritating papers I have come across. No I am not going to aimlessly dish them for their P3 stuff and other such things which have been said on numerous occasions in the past. The damned paper actually carries some very good articles, very readable and very significant. The only problem is that one actually has to play a toned-down treasure hunt every morning and find the damned articles. The other day I read an artivle about some guys here who have shot n entire movie using a cell phone, now though I have read similar things on blogs andon the internet, never in a mainstream newspaper. Swaminomics, is another example. And during the `brave' struggle of the poor upper-class who were being ruthlessly trampled upon during the OBC quote issue, Times was one of the few papers who carried editorials and op-ed pieces in support, while other said some random bull-shit.
Damn paper all the muscle-power. Wonder if they are saving up to start the revolution?
AAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahaahAAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahaahAAAAAAAAAAhaha
hahahahaahAAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahaahAAAAAAAAAAhahahahahahaah.
Gool Duck

Views - The elite canine

2006-12-25T23:14:00.000-08:00

It was a fine and dandy day in Baroda...so what? I really don't know why I wrote that, must remember to beat fists on the wall and head with a plate to contemplate the meaning of that question.
On to other things, I found a brahmin dog the other day - it was fascinating.
My friend S and I were enjoying a cup of steaming, ginger filled tea a few days ago at our usual morning tea haunt. S has this strange affection for animals, all animals, not many humans but definitely animals, so when this poor, mangy looking, half starved dog trotted past us. S immediately let out a low whistle and then began some noises generated by sucking air through his teeth - all to attract the mutt's attention. When it failed, I decided to help my friend and both of us started whistling like a scorpions `winds of change' sonata.
The mutt heard our desperate cries and waddled up to us, wagging tail and all. S was eating a biscuit at the time and had just taken a bite, when the dog arrived at our feet. S took the bitten piece of biscuit out of his mouth and gave it to the dog. The reaction was astounding; the dog sniffed, rolled his eyes and walked away.
Undaunted, S decided to try again. This time S gave the mutt a whole biscuit. Furious tail wagging, and tongue hanging. The mutt came up, gently took the biscuit and walked away a small distance, jumped atop a parapet, walked around the biscuit like it was a ritual and began feeding,.
The damned dog was a brahmin dog, it refused to eat food that had been salivated upon. I wonder if it left a little bit for the crows or other birds.
Sigh. we have chanced upon strange times, if it wasn't enough that we were all ritualistic and stuff, DOGS?
Gool Dight

Views

2006-12-06T01:28:00.000-08:00

A cat came to me the last night and started mewing like it was auditioning to be a Brittney Spears understudy. She (the cat, who I have aptly named Himmesh) also happened to be pregnant…the similarities between the cat and Spears suddenly struck me like the reverse thrust of a humming birds wings beating furiously against my upper cranium. Spears screams and shouts and supports Bush and according to the times of India has been pregnant several times. The cat screams and shouts, pisses on a bush and has been pregnant several times. The coincidences in nature alarm and amaze me from time to time.
About the encounter: Luckily it was pregnant and sllow and i managed to slam the door on her face, narrowly escaping death. She just waits utside my door....patiently, waiting to attack.... she's not domestic i tell you...she's a concrete jungle cat and dangerous...Gool Duck

Abuse

2006-12-06T01:18:00.000-08:00

Baroda is fast metamorphosing into something else. Real estate rates are up, crime is up and abouve all the money in the city is up. And the clincher, Vadodara Central is to open here soon, the construction is done, we're waiting for some Bhajap fellow to come and inaugrate it. Another indicator I have come across is the change in the art scene here, gone are the days when all the stalwarts, rebels and revolutionaries were being shaped in Baroda. If the art market cannot come here, then take it to bombay and delhi seems to be the catch phrase around here. Fine arts students who earlier had to struggle, now chill out paint something, market it in BBY or DEL, and viola...kaching...let the money roll.
The objective of the piece was to bring to the attention of whoever is reading this, the concretization of Baroda district. Now with the NURM projects, the lakes in and around the city are going to be the revenue getters. B told me that it was all about land and a state's responsibility to make their opwn money.
The passive are now becoming dangerously active, active with dollars, pounds and rupees.... people are becoming like the cat mentioned above...docile till they see the opportunity...the disadvantage of not being completely capitalistic...at least there, you expect a dirty game...Sigh..Goon Dight

Views

2006-11-27T01:35:00.000-08:00

It is not an insult to accept the truth, especially about one's self. In fact accepting the truth and deficiencies about one's self is the path to the truth...At least half the truth as death is the only one truth.
Goon dight

Abuse

2006-11-27T01:24:00.000-08:00

After covering crime for a mere two months I already have my abuses ready about them.
Its ridiculous the way cops have to work, there is no scope for even minute good work...forget all dreams of Shiva - the movie i.e - If perchance an honest cop manages to enter the force, then the best that can be expected from him is not to accpet bribes...at any level, the honest cop will not arrest a fellow officer, providing that a charge against the officer is actually produced. At the IPS level even, officers cannot touch other officers...however, when the courageous, fourth pillar of democracy and the purveyors of doom scream for blood and bare fangs and while a little, somebody ahs to get the short end of the stick...So what do our vardhi dudes do? Why, they catch some junior level officer usually a head constable or above till the PI and suspend him...oh god the horror of being suspended, the horror of the change in the force, a suspension...gadzooks...thats really gonna affect lives and the force....like yoda, obi-wan and the other jedi said...may the force be with you, rather may the farce be with you.
Gool duck

2006-11-27T01:20:00.000-08:00

hoo hum...bored and procrastinating...wish i were at least under the table and dreaming...things shall change now....i have to at least uphold the name ofthe blog...goon dight and gool duck

The Ramayana...in a moment of clarity

2006-07-08T02:25:00.000-07:00

I think I'm a really slow chap...man, I also figure I belong to a sub specie of a kind of moron...I have been breaking my head for weeks now, trying to understand the significance of the Ramayana or why it was ever written or is used as a handbook to Hinduism...
Well initially I figured the epic has been altered to suit the needs of despots. So I went about trying to unravel the truth...I read the English translation of Valmiki's Sanskrit version...(done by a foreigner) I found I was partially right but more wrong.
I have come to a partial conclusion that the ramayana has been altered and misinterpreted in ways....but for some reason, I like to believe the ancients were better than us. Yes there are a lot of things in the Ramayana that need to be debated...his sita chastity test, his slaying of Vali for taking Tara (Sugreeva's wife), who went willingly and wept miserably when he died, Rama's finality in his decisions to end life or punish criminals without fair trial, there is not much mention about what Rama did to improve the society, building roads, law maintenance, transport, hospitals etc. Just because the Ramayana happened years ago does not mean these things had no right being there...We all know the superior social order of the Indus Valley Civilization.
Muppalla Ranganayakamma wrote ÂRamayana VishavrikshamÂ : Ramayana the Poisonous Tree , between November 1973 and October 1974. She says - The Ramayana supports all the features of an exploitative society. It defends the autocratic rule of kings against the people, their imperial expansion by invading other weak kingdoms, exploitation of the poor by the rich, oppression of lower castes, aggression of civilized non-tribal communities against primitive tribal communities, exploitation of women, superstitious beliefs against rational thinking, fathers' domination over sons, elder brother's superiority over younger brothers and so on.
According to me the Ramayana was not written to establish Dharma, the Ramayana is just an account of history. History that was written by the ancients in the only way they knew...Tyranny has eclipsed the human race for too long...except the anarchy of Neanderthal man...The ramayana was probably an account extolling the king at that time to protect the author and placate the King...because writing ill about kings and all powerful men have been known to have disastrous consequences. The ramayana is rife with meta or sub text, and is up to intelligent people to decipher. The ancients could not be seditious, so they wrote between the lines subtlety was used to a great extent.
It is well known that wars have been fought through time to serve man's ego to own women...Helen of Troy for one. And we know Helen was just the excuse that Agamemnon needed to invade Troy. Sita might have been the excuse here. The entire tale of the Ramayana could be a warning, a warning for future generations which described the fallacies of the time, the injustice, the prejudice and the basic social structure.
The Ramayana was written to tell us how not to go about life, how not to oppress, how not to treat women, how not to be a judge and executioner. Because what the Ramayana does is describe what happens when all the above mentioned are practised. It was left to us to read, become aware and avoid such things.
I have found more stuff now The Manu Smriti, mentioned in the Ramayana...will devote time to that, understand better and get back to the Ramayana.
Rama - This land, each hill and woody chase,
Belongs to old Ikshváku's race:
With bird and beast and man,
the wholeIs ours to cherish and control.
Ikshvaku is the first king to implement the Manusmriti, or the religious rules of Hindu living composed through divine inspiration and from the Vedas by his father. He is remembered in Hindu mythology as a righteous and glorious king.
The House of Ikshvaku reigns over Kosala, an ancient kingdom in the northeast river plains of India, in the modern state of UP, along the banks of the Sarayu. The capital is Ayodhya.
If Valmiki or any of the ancients were wrting what i suppose they were writing (sedition). Then the above verse must serve as some evidence to what Im saying.

A quote

2006-07-08T01:03:00.000-07:00

"I'll tell you what this war taught us. It taught us that the real enemy is the United States. It is against you that we must fight. Not because your bombs killed our people, but because you have closed your eyes to what is moral and just." Yasser Arafat, killed while fighting %#@$*#@

2006-06-19T03:41:00.000-07:00

I just got this mail from my cousin...thought it was quite interesting....
This letter was written in response to an article:
Dear Editor:
I'm sorry but I would like to challenge some of your Indian male readers. I am a White female who is engaged to an Indian male, good-looking, educated and loving. I just don't understand a lot of Indian female's attitudes about our relationship. My man decided he wanted me because the pickings amongst Indian women were slim to none. As he said they were either too fat, too loud, too mean, too argumentative, too needy, too materialistic or carrying too much excess baggage. Before I became engaged, whenever I went out I was constantly approached by Indian men, willing to wine and dine me and give me the world If Indian women are so up in arms about us being with their men, why don't they look at themselves and make some changes. I am tired of the dirty looks I get and snide remarks when we're out in public. I would like to hear from some Indian men about why we white women are so appealing and coveted by them. Bryant Gumbel just left his wife of 26 years for one of us. Charles Barkley, Scottie Pippen, the model Tyson Beckford, Montell Williams, Quincy Jones, James Earl Jones, Harry Belafonte, Sydney Poitier, Kofi Anan, Cuba Gooding Jr., Don Cornelius, Berry Gordy, Billy Blanks, Larry Fishburne, Wesley Snipes...I could go on and on. But, right now, I'm a little angry and that is why I wrote this so hurriedly.
Don't be mad with us, white women, because so many of your men want us. Get your acts together and learn from us and we may lead you to treat your men better. If I'm wrong, Indian men, let me know.
Disgusted White Girl,
Somewhere in VA.

The Response:

Dear Editor:
I would like to respond to the letter written by A Disgusted White Girl. Let me start by saying that I am a 28-year old Indian man. I graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in Atlanta, Georgia with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Business Management. I have a good job at a major corporation and have recently purchased a house. So, I consider myself to be among the ranks of successful Non-White men.
I will not use my precious time to slander white people. I just want to set the record straight of why Indian men date white women. Back in the day, one of the biggest reasons why Indian men dated white women was because they were considered easy. The Indian girls in my neighborhood were raised traditionally. They were very strict about when they lost their virginity and who they lost it to. Because of our impatience to wait, brothers would look for someone who would give it up easy without too much hassle. So, they turned to the white girls.
Nowadays, in my opinion, a lot of Indian males date white women because they are docile and easy to control. A lot of Indian men, because of insecurities, fears, and overall weaknesses, have become intimidated by the strength of our Indian women. We are afraid that our woman will be more successful than us, make more money than us, drive nicer cars and own bigger houses. Because of this fear, many Indian men look for a more docile woman. Someone we can control. I have talked to numerous Indian men and they continuously comment on how easy it is to control and walk over their white women.
I just want to set the record straight. I want A Disgusted White Girl to know that not all successful Indian men date white women. Non-Whites like Ahmad Rashad, Denzel Washington, Michael Jordan, Morris Chestnut, Will Smith, Blair Underwood, Kenneth 'Babyface' Edmonds, Samuel L. Jackson, and Chris Rock all married strong Non-White women. And, to flip the script, there are numerous white men, in and out of the spot light, who openly or secretly desire Non-White women over white women. Ted Danson, Robert DeNiro, and David Bowie to name a few. I just don't want the 'Disgusted White Girl' to be misinformed.
Stop thinking that because you are white that you are some type of goddess. Remember, when Non-White Egyptian Queens like Hatsepshut and Nitorcris were ruling Dynasties and armies of men in Egypt, you were over in the caves of Europe eating raw meat and beating each other over the head with clubs. Read your history! It was the Non-White woman that taught you how to cook and season your food. It was the Non-White woman that taught you how to raise your children. It was Non-White women who were breastfeeding and raising your babies during slavery. It is the Non-White woman that had to endure watching their fathers, husbands, and children beaten, killed and thrown in jail.
Indian women were born with two strikes against them: being Non-White and being a woman. And, through all this, Still They Rise! It is because of the Indian women's strength, elegance, power, love and beauty that I could never date anyone except my Indian Queen. It is not just the outer beauty that captivates and draws me to them. It is not the fact that they come in all shapes, sizes, colours and shades that I love them. Their inner beauty is what I find most appealing about Indian women. Their strong spirit, loving and nurturing souls, their integrity, their ability to overcome great obstacles, their willingness to stand for what they believe in, and their determination to succeed and reach their highest potential while enduring great pain and suffering is why I have fallen in love with Indian women.
I honestly believe that your anger is geared more toward jealousy and envy than snotty looks. If this were not so, then why do you continuously go to tanning salons to darken your skin. If you are so proud to be white, then why don't you just be happy with your pale skin? Why do you continue to inject your lips, hips, and breasts with unnatural and dangerous substances so you can look fuller and more voluptuous? I think that your anger is really a result of you wanting to have what the Non-White woman has.
BOTTOM LINE: If I were looking for a docile woman, someone I can walk over and control, I would give you a call. But, unfortunately, I am looking for a Virtuous Woman; someone that can be a good wife and mother to my children; someone who can be my best friend and understand my struggles. I am looking for a soul mate and unfortunately, you do not and CANNOT fit the bill.
No offense taken, none given.Signed,
Indian Royalty.

A really abusive but controlled-rage letter (sadly was not sent)

2006-06-17T05:38:00.000-07:00

yes im there somewhere

Sometime last year the co-ed college I was studying in decided we were to be treated as small babies.. and decided on martial law...which was sad...
Accidental Birth Of Anarchy In ACJ

We have been repeatedly told in flurries of words that would have made an oxford professor commit suicide (or a dog retch, whichever), that ACJ is not satisfied with the conduct of the students of this college.

The following were the claims and some suggestions:

· ACJ drills into us the concept and advantage of teamwork. Every assignment save a few are meant to be done in teams. Some examples: Key Issues Project, New Media Project, Broadcast work, Print projects etc etc etc. So how are we to work at all the projects and assignments if we cannot even communicate? Some groups are lucky and they all stay at the same house. Some of us are not as lucky. We have to travel vast distances at odd times of the night to meet deadlines, which you claim are crucial.Suggestion: 1) Pay our cell phone bills. 2) Rent some large hall of some sort where we can all go and talk and discuss the work we have to do.Further more there are exams to write which cannot be studied by aimless mugging; some opinion exchange is required.

· “There is interaction with the “opposite sex” (how fossilized) at the two provided accommodations, that too, that too after 8 o’ clock in the night,” (Nahin!) and when the heroic master at arms flirts with a television personality blatantly in front of the entire class (while exposing his under-arms and gassing the room might I add) its all cool.

· Now we come to the issue of sitting on the platform: It’s called a FOOTPATH.

· After sitting through lectures by people like V. Geeta, Mangai, Susi Tharru and even Sudha Ramachandran to an extent. Do you really expect us to accept your prehistoric views about co-education? Start a nunnery!
· Yes, now we analyze and deconstruct the issue of going home late.I have devised a simple mathematical equation. 112 students + 6 cameras + 3 editing rooms = total chaos in case you haven’t noticed we hang around in college till about 10 PM in any case. After dinner and such we leave at 11 PM. Commuting in a group is a good idea, n’cest pas?OK you do not want to mar the college name and have the police knocking at your back door. Fine! We won’t go back home! We’ll bring our mattresses and lay ‘em all out in the hallowed halls here in college. Please keep the AC on for us there is a huge mosquito problem you see.

· Guests have to limit themselves to the living room. OK suddenly someone feels irregular bowel movements and has to go visit the throne or somebody has to regurgitate or just answer a simple call of nature. Well what are these people supposed to do? Emulate their primates and defecate next to a tree? I do not think ACJ has the right to control what we do in our bedrooms. After all we did pay 24,000 Rupees for some privacy and who comes in or out is our sole business, what say?

· ACJ is curbing all the enthusiasm that we have by trying to enforce ridiculous rules upon us. These rules I believe will only escalate the problem because students being students will be forced to use other means of communication. I mean smoke signals…because of these rules we are all going to become chain smokers, contract cancer and die. Do you want to be responsible for the deaths of 112 students?

· Ah yes. Partying. The last time that we had a late night party was … was… I really don’t remember when we had a party last. There are too many pains in organizing a party here. Permission from college, permission from students (unheard)… it’s too complicated.

· The issue now moves to concerns of students leaving their homes after 11 PM or 12 AM, and not being able to come back (addressed later). You asked us if this is how we would behave if we were at home? Well once we feel at home maybe just maybe we might, though I doubt it, we like to believe the idea of absolute freedom as long as we flout no rules. I don’t think you know what happens at our houses and we would prefer it stay that way. And moreover at home we usually get free WATER and we DO NOT have to pay for water everyday. Addressed later: We would like to lead free lives here, we are not bound to collar and chain. It would have been easier to stop at “We will not accept responsibility and bail you from the cops.” You must realize that college takes up most of our time. If we want to sacrifice sleep to unwind, it’s for us to choose.

· The ‘Barah bhaje’ rule also implies that late night movies are out of the question. So much for the students who have choosen the ‘cinema’ elective. What are we to do? Watch the camera print VCD or DVD at home and then compare notes using telepathy? Know this, you are also promoting video piracy. Lawrence Liang’s words haunt us all.

· As a closing statement, we like the college, we like what you are trying to teach us and that you are trying to mould us into something we may or may not want to become. But trying to suppress the urge to break out every now and then may not really help us or you, will it?

· And copying the British system of divide and conquer is just plain base!

My interpretations of the Ramayana (Religious Hindu's you may not be happy)

2006-06-17T03:34:00.000-07:00

I have been reading a condensed version of the Ramayana. The one written by R K Narayan who used Kamban's version of the same..
I have come to the conclusion that the Ramayana is not just an epic relating the ultimate fight between good and evil. There is more to the Ramayana than just,

(

(In a chicago accent...) Ladies and gentlemen, in the blue corner
the good, virtuous, handsome, powerful, merciful, strangely blue and
husband of the most beautiful woman in the world....RRRRRRRRRRRama
In the red corner the bad, big, strong, evil, despicable, dastardly,
diabolical, husband to many good-looking women and ten headed
Raaaaaaaaaaaaavanaa.
Then the two slug it out and Rama wins...the world is all fine...

I believe there is more to it...

I believe there were a lot of social messages in the Ramayana...atleast from what I have read.
Ravana cannot be thought as being born evil....all the powers vested in Ravana was gifted to him by the various gods...he became evil...he was corrupted.
Why?
he meditated and prayed to Shiva, Indira, Bhrama, Vishnu and scores of others...He led a very austere life dedicated to these gods...(He cannot be evil...he was a "god-man" he chanted and recited shlokas and how did they reward him for his chanting and reciting ..with unlimited power...
and what happened...tyranny followed.. this clearly shows just being a person of god does not make you any better than someone else. it shows God is not infallible, ubiquitous or omnipotent...Ravanas power surpassed even Indira's or Shiva's...the corruption for Power...the feeling of invincibility or invulnerability....Even the most austere man will succumb to power.
I believe, the ancients were warning us of the Bhramin supremacy, because they were the same...
On the contray, Vishwamitra and others who were equally austere etc..did not turn out the same...
so we cannot go by just the fact that a man is pious...the actions dictate this...

Now Rama...Rama is/was the human incarnate of the supreme god Mahavishnu. Why? If Mahavishnu was a supreme god, then why take on human form....(there are many messages embedded in the Ramayana...Im so excited). It emphasises on the potentials of humans. It shows that humans are capable of things they don't even know, they just have to look for it..
An orphan , overcomes his sorrow to open home for kids like him
A village student from a village who has made it to college against all opression (caste class etc)
A accident victim fights off a coma and opens a school for road safety
A doctor who charges no fees
In these people I see Rama....which means I see in them a capability that escapes us all who are stuck in a rut of ego inflated lives. they can go beyond what any of us are capable of...because they have to...because they do not want it to happen to others...they live not only for themselves...greed is absent.
A politician who regularly takes bribes and fakes elections, but has built 22 temples
A police officer who works for the above
An NGO worker who collects money to help others but buys a mercedes S class instead
These are people with power...In them I see Ravana...they have in them the power to help many but only help themselves in the process...they go beyond what we are capable of .. because they want money...they want power...they need hoisted egos to survive...they have become victims of theor own inanities...Greed has taken over.
I probably seem like a preacher, far from it...these are just some candid observations..

I used to trust the media, now its just humbug

2006-06-16T23:47:00.000-07:00

Media, the mere word conjures up images of infallible "truth", highest models of "virtue", unending pursuit of justice, voice of the common.........SHUT UP. What utter tripe. The media was, I repeat was, enough to make the most notorious criminals run or make the most famous personality flash that irresistable smile and say "there should be world peace." The media was started to inform people, the media made the world a smaller place, the media empowerd people to extents they could not handle. In doing so, the power of the media increased by leaps and bounds, most media houses are speaking trumpets for some political party or the other..or are interested only in money.
..... and now sadly, there is no check...(can there even be a check).
(Please pardon the grammatically incorrect Hindi...those of you who know the langauge...will get what im trying to say)
Kahan gaye woh din, jab sirf ek report se awareness spread hote the.
Kahan gaye woh din, jab har subah, akhbar mein log padthe the, aur kush hote the.
"Es aadmi ne dus logon ko bhuk mari se bachaya."
"Es aadmi ne paatshala ke liye teen karode diya."
"Yeh auraat ne ek free maternal clinic khol diya, gareebon ke liye."

Ab aaye hain din, jab har report ek he tarah hote hain,
Ab akhbar padte hain aur naraaz hote hain,
"salla yeh mussalman logon yeh sab kar rehhain hain."
Ab maar peet ke reporten padkar, logon thak gaye hain.
"Es actor aur us actress ke beech mein kuch ho rahan hain."
"Es jagah pe kal char "atankvaadi" ne bomb detonate kiya."
"Us jagah pe kal teen "aatankvadi" ne AK 47 se dus logon ko maar diya."
"Us actress ne yeh actor ko talak diya. (or vice-versa)".
Read the above four lines anout 6 to 7 times...and thats the news.
The same bloody thing over and over and over again my friend,
ah you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction. (by Barry Mcgwire)

THE MEDIA DOES NOT HAVE THE POWER, WE DO.....WE HAVE INHERITED THIS WORLD AND ALL THAT IS IN IT. OUR ANCESTORS DID NOT LEAVE US AL THIS INTELLECTUAL KNOWLDEGE FOR NOTHING. WE CANNOT BE DUMBED DOWN BY THE MEDIA. THE MEDIA IS NOT ALL KNOWING. T