Hmmm.

I miss the days when I was a kid. When life was so blissfully innocent, all that mattered was school crushes on cute boys, Tintin and Asterix, finish off your homework somehow and then run off to more important tasks at hand, like chatting with your best friend. And now, look at us. Everything is so darn complicated. Deadlines, rush, traffic, office decorum, and a whole laundry list of pathetic chores. If I had known grown-up life would be so tedious, then I would never have wished to be a grown-up. Except the only thing to look forward to now is the Payday! Somehow, my school tasks seem much more exciting, stern teachers more lenient and the exams far easier than completing a 6 monthly review presentation. No wonder suddenly I am hooked to re-runs of Back To The Future. Anyone has a Time machine?

The Days that were

This post is the result of long, nostalgic reminisces with a friend.
Whenever we talk, we inadvertently begin talking about the era of the 90s when our life was not invaded by status updates, micromax and Amul macho ads. When the only ads we used to see were the ‘Amul piyo glassful doodh’, ‘Sunday ho ya Monday, roz khao andey’, the favorite English movies were Terminator 2, Jumanji, and Jurassic Park, primetime used to consist of Superhit Muqabla and Tehkikaat. Serials like Just Mohabbat, Hip Hip Hooray, Genie, Small Wonder and Hum paanch formed the staple conversation. And also, the cute guy in the next class. So, I thought let’s just go ahead and write a post about it.

There was something about those days. The 90s. After all these years, even the snooty teachers, the horrible home works, the bad results seem to have a charm of their own. It’s like, they are waving out to me and saying, ‘Hey see, we were not that bad after all’.

·All cousins were divided into two camps – Shahrukh Khan and Amir Khan. I valiantly fought for the dimpled, stuttering, cute Shahrukh until all my rowdy cousins overwhelmed me with sheer volume. Jeez, I can’t even count the times I have watched Kuch Kuch hota hain and Dilwale Dulhania le jayenge, wide eyed. And I didn’t even keep a track of it when I started cringing at those very songs and dialogues.
·The Indi-pop era – I think it was Alisha Chinai first who breezed into our television sets and our minds with her ‘Made in India’. Followed by now-forgotten Indipop artists like umm...really can’t remember!
·Superhit Muqabla – Baba Sehgal. Top 20 songs at primetime. The perfect dose for entertainment-starved kids.
·Golden oldies of the 90s. – Andaz apna apna. Jo jeeta wohi Sikander. Hum hain rahi pyaar ke, Khamoshi. Comedy and love at its pure unadulterated form. The songs, the lack of conniving - ness in the scenes, the dialogues and the chemistry between the stars – all was so heartening. It did not have an oversmart Akshay kumar throwing wretched dialogues our way like in a Housefull. And now, while listening to Pinball Wizard, I realized how Jatin-Lalit conveniently lifted the tunes from the genius work of The Who.
·No multiplex, no show-offs, no exorbitant ticket prices. The standalone theatres ruled at that time. Hordes of people crowding in front of the theatre with just popcorn in one hand a movie tickets in another.
·The very first English movie that bowled the kid me over was Terminator 2. And then of course, was Titanic. Now Terminator 2 doesn’t feel that scary any more. And Titanic definitely doesn’t feel the ideal, definitive portrayal of love and star-crossed lovers.
·Other than gulping down whatever that came on the idiot box, rest of the entertainment was derived from collecting priceless Tintin and Asterix comics. Now I can read them for free on Teh internetz.

However social-media powered life gets these days, those still rule.

Why, oh, why?

What is the reason for the sudden spate of attention hungry, life-revealing, world-upturning status messages on Facebook? I mean, really why? What kind of desperation and insecurity would drive you to post status updates reminiscent of a simpering Manisha Koirala, a psychotic Urmila or a megalomaniac Mithun?

Types
·The World is Hopeless – Cant belive dis is happening. Need al of u rite by me...nowwwww! Sob sob sob. If you just analyze it closely, the person is shrieking out for some sympathy. This is the kind I hate the most. Why on earth will any sane woman/man want to scream out their tragedies from the rooftop? But I guess the very fact of you being open to posting such messages to some 500 odd people negates the sensibility part. My faulty question. At last, 50 comments of ‘low u honey’, ‘mwahh don’t worry’ later and much nausea on my part, things subside.
·I denounce you - Hate people pretending dey care!!
in d end deyr all just selfish... Seriously? Now you realized it? And pray, now that you have made your feelings known to all and sundry, I bet all the selfish people in the world are shedding tears of remorse and queing up to mortify themselves before Your Highness.
·The Ultimate Realization - Realized thr r sooooo many ppl who luv u n care fer u n u jst havnt noticed em at all...have my eyes wide open nw..aint gna miss ne1 nemre...mwaaaah. Realized? Good. Now you might start working on those missing vowels. Hope you walk the rest of your life with eyes wide open and stop inflicting torture upon us innocent souls.

Ah, but I guess I am complaining in vain. It must be a deeply embedded faculty in our system to make Facebook the sole privy to our life’s agonies. Think of it. Boss at office gave me a terrible glare and insulted me. Should I vent it out to my close friends in private, bitch about it and just get drunk? Nope. That just seems too complicated. Those friends must be busy with their own shit too. First, I must log in to Facebook and post a burning, rebellious status message about this so my entire network of 600 (seriously!) ‘friends’ know about it, arouse their curiosity and profess their ‘lowe’ for me. Such genuine concerns do blot out the shitty feeling and make feel obnoxiously bubbly and wired again. Hurray!

And then comes the Facebook albums! Nope, the Facebook-savvy, outgoing people are not just satiated with clicking a few good pictures of them having fun. They have to click it from all possible angles. With all possible emotions. I guess my broadband charge will run out if I take the onus of describing the hideous faces I have seen of people, in the name of having fun! It’s even more nauseating and puke-inducing than the trailer of Twilight eclipse.

Smirk at me for being old school, but I would rather go to a party and enjoy it than making myself busy with taking photographic proofs showing what an absolute blast I had. Reminds me of a small such incident in Hard Rock café. A good band. Great drinks. Delicious starters. I was quite enjoying the music when I noticed these two girls taking pictures of themselves with different smiles and tilts of head rather than enjoying the energy of the place. And when they were not clicking away to glory, they were just busy with their own cell phones, leave alone talking to each other.

Then again, I think, social networking is a kind of peer pressure. Isn’t it? It’s all about cool videos, sassy quips, rocking pictures and SOS calls. I guess, me and a few other similar souls are headed to extinction.

The awesomeness of the Twilight world

On one fateful day, I walked into a DVD store, shelled out 60 bucks and rented the New Moon DVD. It must have been predestined. In the words of another great philosopher, Paulo Coelho, “It’s Maktub” or destiny. I though I had to check it out. Let’s see what all the fuss is about. Since I am a starry-eyed girl with weaknesses for passion, romance and washboard abs, it was time to experience the next great phenomenon after Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana, which is the Twilight saga.

I must indulge in a little preamble here. Last year, I had rented Twilight. Yes, one of those moments when that impish little red devil sits firmly on my head and dictates my thought. I wish it would make me do some cooler things. Like win the foosball round against some buggers. Or acquire a sponsor for booze session. Or magically credit some few grand to me account. But, heck! So, I started watching Twilight. I watched it for about 45 mins. Then switched it off, having decided that I am not a person worthy of such epic awesomeness. A girl who continues to shiver and give a deadpan expression for some unknown reason for one-fourth of the film and the oh-so-handsome hero who jumps from one tree to another were too complex happenings for a simpleton like me to grasp. Over the next few months, I have come across people with amorous pictures of Pattinson and Stewart stuck to their soft boards, going gaga over how ‘super cool’ the book is. Apparently, it beats even Mills and Boons paperbacks when it comes to display the conflict of love, passion and all such raging feelings us laymen are devoid of. Remember the titles? The Greek Millionaire’s Sensuous Mistress, to quote for one. The hero and heroine would engage in naughty sexcapades, drift away from each other and finally, through an epiphany, realize their undying love for each other, if not other people.

But Twilight and its siblings owns Mills & Boon’s ass big time. For the first time ever, it introduced a vampire who is as pretty as a daffodil. Yes. Robert Pattinson. Droopy eyes, alabaster complexion that sparkles in the sun, cherry red lips, women are swooning and drooling and licking their drool. And, Kristen Stewart? Move over, Katrina Kaif. Kristen has the love of a vampire. What have you, Miss Kaif? Just the steroid-boosted body and cranky temperament of an actor in his mid 40s.

So, I sat through the two hours of New Moon and tried to grapple with the complexities of inter-species love. Inter-caste love? Bah! Old news. Inter-racial marriage? Pfft. Way to illogical. The triangular love story of a werewolf who loves perennially sad chick who loves vampire that sparkles in the sun! Whoa! It crosses boundaries, reaches deep within the recesses of your heart and stirs emotions that have been lying dormant for eons.

Things that specially struck me as moments of cinematic genius, histrionic gems and plot twists that would put The Joker to shame. Cries of anguish or pure horniness at night when vampire lover deserts sad chick. Not at all cringe worthy. If you can sit through that, you can sit through Mayawati and Lalit Modi hosting a combo chat show on TV together. Abs/Man boobs of Taylor Lautner and his gang. That’s one clever thinking to cash in on the female fantasy. Only if Mr. Lautner’s face didn’t resemble a shriveled apple so badly. And there’s a pack of guys who turn into werewolves when they are hungry or angry. Never anywhere before will you get to see such skin-fest. It’s like McDonald’s Value Meal offer. All super awesome things coming together in one great package. The film also succeeds in making you crave for some actual mind-blowing action scenes, given the fact that it takes into account so many kinds of species out there. I am surprised it didn’t put dwarfs, elves and demons in it as well.

New Moon succeeds in showing an entire gamut of emotions that consists of moans, blank stares, screams and some more moans. After some more moans and snarls, sad chick and vampire lover get back together, in true Bollywood style. And I, finally heave a sigh of relief and say ‘Aal izz well’. The End.

This post merely tries to portray some flitting thoughts on this epic, mind-numbing saga. For the real deal, go here - http://www.the-editing-room.com/twilight-new-moon.html.

Phrases I am fed up of

Life’s a bitch. Whoever came up with this statement must not have been a master at subtlety. And whoever uses this either frequently or sporadically must be one absolutely manic-depressive personality. Why, you may ask. It’s overused and has run its course of kewlness. Well, I get the fact how life’s fucking you over and ditching you at the most important points. But, use a little imagination. Say, life’s now acting like that annoying relative who irritates you at family functions with questions about impending marriage. Get the hint?

Hey, man! Wassup! Nothing’s up, yo! My life is one big fucking roller coaster ride and you’re just one tiny speck on the landscape. Move out, man! You’re blocking the goddamn view.

What the fuck! Boss is yelling at me again for no fault of my own. What the fuck! Whoa, missed that bus by a minute. What the fuck! Cable is coming static. What the fuck! Can’t get through my friend and shower him with thousand profanities. What the fuck! There’s some error in Facebook status updates today. What the fuck. Rahul mahajan’s comedy show has ended. What the fuck! Wait, no. That’s actually a good thing.

Robert Pattinson is so cute! Now that actually demands a ‘wtf’ expression.

I am not being judgmental here. Just pointing out that I can do with lesser dose of them. We are a generation suffering from verbal bankruptcy. If all these and many more oft-repeated words are taken from you, what are you left with? Will you be just gasping like a fish on land or will you dig deep, finally, and unearth something to the pleasant surprise of the people around you?

Thoughts on a few flicks

So, I had this huge movie marathon this weekend. And it was pretty diverse in category, ranging from action flicks, to comedies, to parodies. Rented DVDs from a store, curled up on my bed and subjected myself, first, to the mind numbing, absolutely inane ‘romantic’ movie, Valentines Day! Oh, what an absolute waste of time that was. Not that I was planning to use my time productively, but hell! I could’ve done my favorite thing I love doing all the time – sleeping through the day. Last week, I watched another stupid movie “He’s just not that into you”, Hence I thought, maybe, well, my quota of bullshit movies for this week was at least over. How wrong I was! I mean, it physically hurts to watch Bradley cooper acting gay and Ashton kutcher playing the hopelessly in love, pink tee wearing puppy dog. Add to that, Jennifer garner’s toothy, wide grin perpetually pasted on that face and Jessica Biel’s, again, perpetually constipated expression, it was like one never-ending bombardment of sappy emotions in the history of mankind. That does not mean that Valentine’s day is a horrible movie. It just means that VD (ironic acronym) is just not worth investing money and time in. I mean, what was even Jessica Alba doing there?! The only saving grace was Queen Latifah. That woman, histrionically, is a pleasure to watch, anytime! Anyhow, I redeemed myself with Zombieland, Little miss sunshine, Julie & Julia, Taking of Pelham 123 and The Italian Job. Only, all throughout Julie and Julia I kept thinking that Merryl Streep must have consumed gallons of glucose to keep belching out those giddy squeals of joy/heartbreak/hope/whatever every alternate minute. I mean, after sometime it became plain irritating. Good side – I ended up hungry and consumed one packet of Hide & Seek milano.

Favorite quote from Zombieland – “good thing about zombies. No Facebook status updates”. Epic win.

Verbal Blues

What an unimaginative title! The moment I typed it down, that was the first thought that came to my mind. It must be something in the air. But with every passing day, I find that there’s some serious problem with me when it comes to expressing my emotions and feelings in words. A point will come when just hand gestures and facial constrictions will have to do for me.
For instance, someone asks me, ‘ did you see the news of how the lover killed himself and his girlfriend? What is wrong with today’s youth?’ I, with a deadpan expression, say, ‘Yeah man, it’s weird’. And to say the least, ‘weird’ is the word that crops up in my mind while describing the magnitude of an event or a person.
So weird it is, man! Maybe I should start reading Charles Dickens. Or, just leap off to Salman Rushdie. I once sat with Satanic Verses. After half an hour I felt like someone was hurling me through a time-warped zone in continuum. I couldn’t even go half, as far so as to figure out what all the brouhaha on beheading Salman Rushdie was all about. Now, that didn’t make any sense. But given the fact of me having the ‘dry day’ syndrome for several weeks, I’ll let it pass.

Losers galore

Yes. There are losers galore. Teeming everywhere. from the virtual forums to the crowded stations, hang-out joints, everything. The problem with this particular species is that, they feel like they are God's boon to earth and therefore, they try to make the most out of it by irritating the hell out of others. One particual species has emerged who take their virtual lives too seriously. Like promoting their online communities even more seriously than Obama would worry about recession. Or getting into fights and spewing out rehashed abuses like 'go to hell'..'keep trying..one day you'll improve'..'lolzzz you suck..you are so lame'. Yes son, I am super lame. And you are a mix of all marvel superheroes out there. Time to take a hike to another planet, now. Anyways, now I am done venting my anger over here.
Switch to real life losers now. The problem with them is - you can't turn them off and make them vanish. they are omnipresent. The term 'losers' is a li'l dubious here, being more often in use by snob, arrogant, self-bloated people. I think 'annoying pricks' would suffice.
Well, now I feel bored again. time to get onto facebook and start playing stupid games. If anyone is trying to look for humor here, you'll be disappointed as I rot at it.

Allright. I have never been much empathetic to the concept of putting up your life so publicly for everyone to see and comment on. But, since I was in a pretty sad and bored mood, here we go. Nothing accelerates one's onlife life like the drudgery in real life. I may be wrong. But, heck, who cares! My thoughts are so random, I am afraid they won't make much sense. But, then we have enough sensible people out there to lead the world. Hence, I will just keep slacking in my couch and rant on.

There's one thing I don't understand. How do people live with the fact of them being total assholes? One thing for sure, I won't get emo here. But just felt like letting it out. We hurt the person we love the most in the world. We whine. We go back to being the same retards all over again. I just hope I redeem myself better, in my eyes.

Every time I watch this movie 'Requiem for a Dream' it feels like I am slipping into a world that's not known to me. The music, the expressions just seep into my gut and there I lie, intoxicated and paralyzed. Not very flattering? I know.

Well, I am done for the moment.