(Despite being variously implored and repeatedly threatened by many on including mass media in my articles, they somehow seem to find their way up here.)
For a few days, news elements floating around seem to be creating more than just waves. In fact, these high tides have toppled the consistency of sanity amongst many. The proletariat, the entrepreneurial and the technocrati have responded in various degrees of indifference to each of them, the highest being raised eyebrows and widened eyes. But it was later discovered that it was just the foreplay of a giant sneeze that shattered the ear drums of many in a closed office. The school going children, however, were as tricky to track as the count of the number of outsourced units in India.
An English teacher of an ‘International School’ (this is a term to denote places that have buildings representing obnoxious monstrosity and unconventional education that has parents in knots – in their brain and pockets!) decided to introduce newspaper reading for tiny tots to get them converse better than a hotch potch “That is correct, no Ma’m” and “He only did it, M’am”.
Ma’m (beaming with enthusiasm): “Class, today we shall be doing something new.”
Naughty Tot: “That is what you say in every class, Ma'm.”
Ma’m (not amused, but holding her head high where the clouds floated): “We shall start newspaper reading from this session and then we shall discuss what you read. At the end, one of you shall summarize the news for the day. Dolly, you begin”
Dolly: “Yes M’am. ‘Coimbatore blasts: Basha, nine others get life sentence. The founder leader of proscribed Al-Umma S A Basha and the outfit's general secretary Mohammed Ansari, along with eight key convicts, were on Wednesday awarded life imprisonment in the 1998 Coimbatore serial blasts case.’”
Ma’m: “Thank you, Dolly. Let us see who has the first question.”
Naughty Tot: “Why are we reading 1998 news now? Sid just wrote today’s date on the board. The year is 2007, no Ma’m?”
Ma’m: “Yes, the year is 2007. But the judgement was announced only yesterday. Most of the times the result of such cases is known after a delayed period.”
Naughty Tot: “Does it apply to our school results too?”
Ma’m (sternly): “Ahem! Firoz, the next headline, please. All discussions after it is read out.”
Firoz: “Ok. ‘N-deal will benefit India, US & world says Burns’. I have a question Ma’m- Is N-deal a rock band?”
Ma’m: “No, it stand for Nuclear Deal, which is between India and the US.”
Tot: “New cleaning?”
Ma’m: “Well, not quite. It deals with making weapons and building arsenal.”
Tot: “Wow! Like ‘Counter Strike’ video game?”
Ma’m: “Uhmm… no. let’s move on to entertainment section. Kiti… Sheeti… the last girl in white.”
Tot: “Kshitija, Ma’m. ‘Sanjay Dutt goes to prison again’.”
Naughty Tot: “Man! You know, he went to all temples, still he was taken to prison.”
Ma’m: “No discussing between yourselves.”
Naughty Tot: “You know, he has big gun. I have his poster in my room”
Tot: “Cool! I will come to your house then, ok?”
Ma'm: "Sshh! Avi, the next headline."
Avi: "'Queen Beatrix of Netherlands meets President Pratibha Patil'. Is she Sirius Black's sister, Ma'm?"
Ma'm: "Sirius, who?"
Avi: "Sirius Black, Ma'm. Harry Potter's godfather. He had this wicked witch sister. Is she the same one?"
Dolly: "No! Her name was Bellatrix Lestrange and she was deatheater. She did not wear nice pink hats like this. Deatheaters don't wear hats! Don't you ever read Harry Potter?"
Avi: "Uh... "
Ma'm: "Stop the exodus! Let's move on to Sports section. This should be easy, right? Malcolm, stop rolling eyes around, you are making Gia dizzy. It's your turn to read the news. Remember, discussions only after I ask."
Malcolm: "Ok, Ma'm. 'Rahul Gandhi takes time out to play a cricket match'."
Ma'm: "Good. Who can tell me who Rahul Gandhi is?"
Tot: "A right handed batsman who wears specs? Like Rahul Dravid."
Ma'm: "No, he is no cricketer. He is Member of the Parliament."
Naughty Tot: "But he plays cricket, no Ma'm? Look he is wearing the cricket uniform."
Ma'm: "Just an off day for him."
Naughty Tot (to Malcolm): "The article is in sports section. I bet my bubble gum that Ma'm is wrong."
Tot (excitedly): "I know... he is Mahatma Gandhi's grandson, Ma'm?"
Ma'm: "That's not correct. He is Indira Gandhi's grandson."
Naughty Tot: "But History Ma'm told us that Pandit Nehru was Indira Gandhi's father."
Ma'm: "Yes, that's correct, but... "
Silent Tot: "How does the surname change? And why is it Sir name? Indira Gandhi was a lady, no Ma'm?"
Ma’m (dabbing forehead with a tissue): “Class, quiet! I think this is enough for today.”
Tot: “Ma’m, I will summarize!”
Ma’m (tiredly): “Huh?”
On reaching home, an expectant parent asked his child what he learnt in school today-
Naughty Tot: “Oh Daddy, today we read newspaper. Coi… Coimto… Coimbatore judgement of 1998 was given today. But it is only to tell them that they will have to be in prison and write sentences. I guess they had failed in using adverbs, like SJ. But Ma’m says our results will not be postponed. The nuclear deal has nothing clean about it. It is not even as much fun as Counter Strike. You know, they put you in prison even if you go to temples. Having a poster also does not count. Harry Potter's sister met the President today. Though, in India she does not look like a witch. Finally, the sports news. Mahatma Gandhi's grandson wears specs and plays cricket on an off day.”
Daddy (perplexedly): “You learnt that today? Is that all?”
Naughty Tot: “There was more, but don’t know why Ma’m didn’t want us to read. She has given us 5 long comprehension tests. They are a little confusing. Can you help me finish it, Daddy?”
October 24, 2007
A Devil’s Workshop called Mind!
(October 28, 2005)
“Hi! My nam’s Dolly Do-little. M hr 2 mk frnz wid sum1 f my types. ne Teddy Free-man lisnin’?”
How profound! But more than the words (or the lack of it), what amazes me is how online chatting could become quickly popular with people of all ages (tell me about despondent uncles and desperate grandpas on portals!). When I introspected the why and what of things, it led me to the deadliest virus of all times. A mortal word called boredom! And this seemingly humble word can drive two legged sloths to activities – creative or otherwise that only a devil could fabricate in his workshop.
What happens when the frustrated guy on bench (off a project temporarily or for as long as he is not laid off!) wants to kill time on a drowsy Monday? There are more chances that he may end up becoming a cartoon artist having drawn monstrous avatars of his team leader / project manager, depending on whose head he’d love to have for supper.
Boredom could also be gripping for some others who do not have the liberty to sketch. So much for living in a democracy! She may sit writing down plans and plots how ‘Kill Bill’-Volume 3 could be made. These creative minds may come up with sub plots that may start from their own cubicle. How interesting would that be? It'd not be a surprise if these amateur conspiracy theorists could give shivers to one Mr. I-love-blood Tarantino!
A few others may choose to convert their misery to entertainment. The best part (or the worst) is that there is no warning sign for all those unsuspecting colleagues who would soon become subjects. While some such ardently working guinea pigs return from lunch to find their workstation filled with post-its, others see that the keys are either missing or interchanged with yet another equally bewildered compatriot. Some of the badly affected ones are those found with certain... ahem... DVDs, which have nothing to do with the Inaugural function, or the day when the boss spoke endlessly at a seminar long forgotten! “Is this really the Chief Fun Officer at work or a monster on the loose?” some victims shout out in desperation.
When a person is devoid of work of some sort (in fact any sort) and is made to feel idle and lazy, it gives rise not only to a devil’s workshop but also to exploitation of the inactive brain. Now, I had not looked at this perspective of the saying, “Necessity is the mother of invention” when boredom cramps a sincere staff member. Whatever be it, this goes out to prove that a devil’s workshop is capable of coming up with some interesting ideas. But, usage at one’s own risk!
“Hi! My nam’s Dolly Do-little. M hr 2 mk frnz wid sum1 f my types. ne Teddy Free-man lisnin’?”
How profound! But more than the words (or the lack of it), what amazes me is how online chatting could become quickly popular with people of all ages (tell me about despondent uncles and desperate grandpas on portals!). When I introspected the why and what of things, it led me to the deadliest virus of all times. A mortal word called boredom! And this seemingly humble word can drive two legged sloths to activities – creative or otherwise that only a devil could fabricate in his workshop.
What happens when the frustrated guy on bench (off a project temporarily or for as long as he is not laid off!) wants to kill time on a drowsy Monday? There are more chances that he may end up becoming a cartoon artist having drawn monstrous avatars of his team leader / project manager, depending on whose head he’d love to have for supper.
Boredom could also be gripping for some others who do not have the liberty to sketch. So much for living in a democracy! She may sit writing down plans and plots how ‘Kill Bill’-Volume 3 could be made. These creative minds may come up with sub plots that may start from their own cubicle. How interesting would that be? It'd not be a surprise if these amateur conspiracy theorists could give shivers to one Mr. I-love-blood Tarantino!
A few others may choose to convert their misery to entertainment. The best part (or the worst) is that there is no warning sign for all those unsuspecting colleagues who would soon become subjects. While some such ardently working guinea pigs return from lunch to find their workstation filled with post-its, others see that the keys are either missing or interchanged with yet another equally bewildered compatriot. Some of the badly affected ones are those found with certain... ahem... DVDs, which have nothing to do with the Inaugural function, or the day when the boss spoke endlessly at a seminar long forgotten! “Is this really the Chief Fun Officer at work or a monster on the loose?” some victims shout out in desperation.
When a person is devoid of work of some sort (in fact any sort) and is made to feel idle and lazy, it gives rise not only to a devil’s workshop but also to exploitation of the inactive brain. Now, I had not looked at this perspective of the saying, “Necessity is the mother of invention” when boredom cramps a sincere staff member. Whatever be it, this goes out to prove that a devil’s workshop is capable of coming up with some interesting ideas. But, usage at one’s own risk!
October 22, 2007
Of Alsatians and wispy hosts!
(March 28, 2006)
Television is an amusing medium (calling it ‘powerful’ has become such a cliché that cliché has also become such an oft-repeated formula). One is set up to meet so many characters, whether they figure in their calendars or not. Newsmakers attract a fairly good share of eyeballs. Though it is the celebrity / newsmaker who is the focus of such a program, many times the person who analyzes, questions, debates, counter-attacks, occasionally passes an informal jab and sometimes connects the willing celebrity to star-struck or disillusioned audience also becomes a celebrity.
Let me walk you through two such hosts of talk/ chat shows who have acquired celebrity status and have become newsmakers themselves. They have been around for a good number of years and have created an impression on the audience for their ability to push their guests to the edge – of sanity, emotions or just foul temper.
Tim Sebastian, who is essentially the Alsatian of BBC, massacres the person in front of him (calling his ‘guests’ so would be so irrelevant!). Be it harrying George Michael about his tryst with Iraq or interrogation of Mikhail Gorbachev in Russian about Putin, Sebastian has always made his guests eat more than their words! But why is he part of this story? That’s because –
* He is the only one to interview political leaders who are unreachable by speaking languages that most of the interviewers are unfamiliar with. Russian and German or even Arabic – whether he understands or not, Sebastian succeeds in transcending all language barriers.
* He bullies his invitees and when they raise objection, convinces them that all he was trying was get to the root of the facts, so well that the beleaguered interviewees change their statements!
* He created a new phrase that’s presently doing the rounds – “A tongue is mightier than a sword or pen”.
* No matter how blatantly rude he seems, people remind themselves to watch him repeat and better his technique of delivering blows, while the people who sit across him fumble in various ways giving in to bloopers after bloopers.
* His videos make all moot court debating lessons seem lame.
To the other end of the hemisphere is the lady in white on the Indian telly who is the self proclaimed counselor of the high fliers – in-power politicians, influential diplomats, billionaire business heads and successful and still in vogue film personalities – Simi Garewal. That she has not chosen a colored ensemble for her chat show save white till now, is well known. But what makes her tick is her unique voice (she has sung the title track for her show!), which is deep and soft (she attempts to make it as wispy as possible for the right moments) and many times irritatingly sweet. She still attracts attention of the media because:
* She has the ability to get the mightiest of the mighty politicians sing their heart out and turn teary eyed at her words.
* She is probably the only one who tries to dig the emotions of her guests, when they inherit a big empire (Sample this - “Being the heir of million dollar empire must have been pressurizing”)
* Nobody recollects life’s misgivings like her! (To a 30 year old successful actor - “There was a time during your childhood, when you had problems with stammering … that must have been hard for a tender soul of 8 years”)
* There is no other person who says “Why?” the way she does, in almost all her shows (At the risk of sounding like a propaganda - you have to watch her to believe it!)
* She manages to be in news not just for the lack of variety in her wardrobe, designers and look but oodles of honey coated sentences.
No matter how brutally rude or excruciatingly diabetic a talk show host may be, the fact remains that if there was no unique trait in them, it would make news viewing monotonous. So enjoy the barks and subtle intonations while they last!
Television is an amusing medium (calling it ‘powerful’ has become such a cliché that cliché has also become such an oft-repeated formula). One is set up to meet so many characters, whether they figure in their calendars or not. Newsmakers attract a fairly good share of eyeballs. Though it is the celebrity / newsmaker who is the focus of such a program, many times the person who analyzes, questions, debates, counter-attacks, occasionally passes an informal jab and sometimes connects the willing celebrity to star-struck or disillusioned audience also becomes a celebrity.
Let me walk you through two such hosts of talk/ chat shows who have acquired celebrity status and have become newsmakers themselves. They have been around for a good number of years and have created an impression on the audience for their ability to push their guests to the edge – of sanity, emotions or just foul temper.
Tim Sebastian, who is essentially the Alsatian of BBC, massacres the person in front of him (calling his ‘guests’ so would be so irrelevant!). Be it harrying George Michael about his tryst with Iraq or interrogation of Mikhail Gorbachev in Russian about Putin, Sebastian has always made his guests eat more than their words! But why is he part of this story? That’s because –* He is the only one to interview political leaders who are unreachable by speaking languages that most of the interviewers are unfamiliar with. Russian and German or even Arabic – whether he understands or not, Sebastian succeeds in transcending all language barriers.
* He bullies his invitees and when they raise objection, convinces them that all he was trying was get to the root of the facts, so well that the beleaguered interviewees change their statements!
* He created a new phrase that’s presently doing the rounds – “A tongue is mightier than a sword or pen”.
* No matter how blatantly rude he seems, people remind themselves to watch him repeat and better his technique of delivering blows, while the people who sit across him fumble in various ways giving in to bloopers after bloopers.
* His videos make all moot court debating lessons seem lame.
To the other end of the hemisphere is the lady in white on the Indian telly who is the self proclaimed counselor of the high fliers – in-power politicians, influential diplomats, billionaire business heads and successful and still in vogue film personalities – Simi Garewal. That she has not chosen a colored ensemble for her chat show save white till now, is well known. But what makes her tick is her unique voice (she has sung the title track for her show!), which is deep and soft (she attempts to make it as wispy as possible for the right moments) and many times irritatingly sweet. She still attracts attention of the media because:* She has the ability to get the mightiest of the mighty politicians sing their heart out and turn teary eyed at her words.
* She is probably the only one who tries to dig the emotions of her guests, when they inherit a big empire (Sample this - “Being the heir of million dollar empire must have been pressurizing”)
* Nobody recollects life’s misgivings like her! (To a 30 year old successful actor - “There was a time during your childhood, when you had problems with stammering … that must have been hard for a tender soul of 8 years”)
* There is no other person who says “Why?” the way she does, in almost all her shows (At the risk of sounding like a propaganda - you have to watch her to believe it!)
* She manages to be in news not just for the lack of variety in her wardrobe, designers and look but oodles of honey coated sentences.
No matter how brutally rude or excruciatingly diabetic a talk show host may be, the fact remains that if there was no unique trait in them, it would make news viewing monotonous. So enjoy the barks and subtle intonations while they last!
October 15, 2007
Eulogy of Babble Talkman
I have always been inspired by the mass media. But many times, this has also prompted extreme reactions. I am quite sure I am not the only one to be influenced so.
This is a fictional piece of musing that has nothing to do with any particular person.
__________________________________________________
Eulogy of Babble Talkman
(Feb 15, 2006)
“Relatives, friends, foes and undecideds:
We lost Babble Talkman a few days ago and yet, it feels like it was only seconds before he last shouted ‘Whatta shot!’ Truly, time flies.
It feels like only yesterday when Babble had come to the TV station for a screen test for becoming yet another anchor on the *MKM!# (Myuzeec Kills Me) channel. His chatter was the bread for all those nasty portals, though I’m sure there were many takers. Being a school drop out, he had a commendable command over his wardrobe. From patch work denim, he moved to trouser strips. Fashionistas still remember his dress sense during his afternoon show – “*MKM!# - Don’t yaw siesta”. Something that will never be forgotten by anyone who watched *MKM!# was the classic boat necked trouser shirt with hieroglyphics on pyramids. It is another thing that the Egyptian mumbo-jumbo he wore had put poor Babble in prison for two nights for defaming the pyramid country.
But as they say, all happens for the good. On Friendship Day, he met the knockout wrestler turned actor ‘The Crab’. It was as if they were destined to meet on that day. I remember Babble telling me that after a good chat, The Crab promised him a post in his action choreography production company. Once on to hosting big matches, Babble carved a niche for himself in the country. The numbers stand evidence that he was not for the masses but classes.
During one of his matches he was introduced to the very beautiful Screechy Candy, whom he married after the two hour match! This showed his decisiveness. Another proof was his divorce from Candy after 2 days. Babble showed amazing hold over himself while he addressed the press too. Managing stars loved by many women can get tedious. But Babble handled it all, mostly by his knack of keeping the conversation going and going till the other person tired out. Very few people have this ability and Babble’s skillful talking was soon noticed by the coach of the Football League. He was appointed as the commentator in the Premier Kickon League.
Babble had certain beliefs that were built during his lifetime some of them challenging enough for others to fathom. There were allegations that Babble Talkman had gotten into drugs, which was unkind of anybody to say so. I hope God gave them a broader mind to understand that Babble was not a sportsman and so, was not cheating anyone! He found a great mate in ace footballer Mar-juan Cocclain to help him recover from depression. Babble was a wonderful friend and he very kindly advised Mar-juan to visit the friendly neighborhood rehab doctor who helped him get through depression unhurt. But fate was cruel to take away his friend very soon.
But he soon found love again, this time in his last wife – Nancy Nex-deur. Being a connoisseur of good food, he had spoken in his unstoppable inimitable style about Nancy who had served him the best macaroni. Their life created a milestone in the institution of marriage. I can proudly say that Babble never let Nancy speak more words than him. Though Nancy and Babble may have disagreed on certain occasions, Babble was man of words and could match Nancy utensil throws. I remember him jocularly telling me that Nancy should have been in a baseball team than a restaurant. Wait, I guess he was serious, after all!
Nancy has been a picture of dignity even in the event of Babble’s death. Despite being told that Babble was killed by a TV viewer who was not fortunate enough to understand his intellectual opinions, she has taken the news with a smile, even laughter sometimes. But this only shows how a woman of poise behaves at the loss of a gem of a person.
Babble Talkman. A speaker with his own mind, who called a spade whatever he wished, an ever advising husband and father to many. His loss is replaceable. As he always included a quote in his commentary, here’s one from William Blake – “Every mortal loss is an immortal gain”. I am sure many would agree when I say that in Babble’s case it was a mortal gain as his memories make him look stronger than he could ever be.
May God bless the world, which is suddenly waking to other sounds in his absence.”
Now, all I’ve to do is wait and hold my faith that the judgmental, opinionated, in-my-face nonstop nonsense spouter kicks the bucket and I get to read this piece, in definite peace.
This is a fictional piece of musing that has nothing to do with any particular person.
__________________________________________________
Eulogy of Babble Talkman
(Feb 15, 2006)
“Relatives, friends, foes and undecideds:
We lost Babble Talkman a few days ago and yet, it feels like it was only seconds before he last shouted ‘Whatta shot!’ Truly, time flies.
It feels like only yesterday when Babble had come to the TV station for a screen test for becoming yet another anchor on the *MKM!# (Myuzeec Kills Me) channel. His chatter was the bread for all those nasty portals, though I’m sure there were many takers. Being a school drop out, he had a commendable command over his wardrobe. From patch work denim, he moved to trouser strips. Fashionistas still remember his dress sense during his afternoon show – “*MKM!# - Don’t yaw siesta”. Something that will never be forgotten by anyone who watched *MKM!# was the classic boat necked trouser shirt with hieroglyphics on pyramids. It is another thing that the Egyptian mumbo-jumbo he wore had put poor Babble in prison for two nights for defaming the pyramid country.
But as they say, all happens for the good. On Friendship Day, he met the knockout wrestler turned actor ‘The Crab’. It was as if they were destined to meet on that day. I remember Babble telling me that after a good chat, The Crab promised him a post in his action choreography production company. Once on to hosting big matches, Babble carved a niche for himself in the country. The numbers stand evidence that he was not for the masses but classes.
During one of his matches he was introduced to the very beautiful Screechy Candy, whom he married after the two hour match! This showed his decisiveness. Another proof was his divorce from Candy after 2 days. Babble showed amazing hold over himself while he addressed the press too. Managing stars loved by many women can get tedious. But Babble handled it all, mostly by his knack of keeping the conversation going and going till the other person tired out. Very few people have this ability and Babble’s skillful talking was soon noticed by the coach of the Football League. He was appointed as the commentator in the Premier Kickon League.
Babble had certain beliefs that were built during his lifetime some of them challenging enough for others to fathom. There were allegations that Babble Talkman had gotten into drugs, which was unkind of anybody to say so. I hope God gave them a broader mind to understand that Babble was not a sportsman and so, was not cheating anyone! He found a great mate in ace footballer Mar-juan Cocclain to help him recover from depression. Babble was a wonderful friend and he very kindly advised Mar-juan to visit the friendly neighborhood rehab doctor who helped him get through depression unhurt. But fate was cruel to take away his friend very soon.
But he soon found love again, this time in his last wife – Nancy Nex-deur. Being a connoisseur of good food, he had spoken in his unstoppable inimitable style about Nancy who had served him the best macaroni. Their life created a milestone in the institution of marriage. I can proudly say that Babble never let Nancy speak more words than him. Though Nancy and Babble may have disagreed on certain occasions, Babble was man of words and could match Nancy utensil throws. I remember him jocularly telling me that Nancy should have been in a baseball team than a restaurant. Wait, I guess he was serious, after all!
Nancy has been a picture of dignity even in the event of Babble’s death. Despite being told that Babble was killed by a TV viewer who was not fortunate enough to understand his intellectual opinions, she has taken the news with a smile, even laughter sometimes. But this only shows how a woman of poise behaves at the loss of a gem of a person.
Babble Talkman. A speaker with his own mind, who called a spade whatever he wished, an ever advising husband and father to many. His loss is replaceable. As he always included a quote in his commentary, here’s one from William Blake – “Every mortal loss is an immortal gain”. I am sure many would agree when I say that in Babble’s case it was a mortal gain as his memories make him look stronger than he could ever be.
May God bless the world, which is suddenly waking to other sounds in his absence.”
Now, all I’ve to do is wait and hold my faith that the judgmental, opinionated, in-my-face nonstop nonsense spouter kicks the bucket and I get to read this piece, in definite peace.
October 08, 2007
Green Rush
Being born in a family that moved very often gives one the luxury of exploring the beauty of the place and those nearby. On one such occasion, I was blessed to visit this unexplored town called Valparai. Lying on the border of Tamil Nadu, which is in the Southern part of India, this heaven of sylvan setting seemed to me, my Paradise Found!
Here's my tribute to a heaven called Valparai.
Here's my tribute to a heaven called Valparai.
Green Rush
(July 2, 2007. ed Oct 8'07)
Away from swarms of relentless metrozens,
Like a Zorro, hiding in altitudes high,
I knew I’d found a cluster of heavens,
When my eyes caught sight of Valparai.
Unknown from acquaintance lays the hamlet
Like a boy in a game of catch,
There is no known precedent
To seemingly ubiquitous green rush.
Soakin’ in the spectacular marvel of the setting
I felt like being born for the first time!
The wonderment left me numb
Could hear a merry rustle and many a jolly song
Running through long green tea beds
As if there was no tomorrow,
Don’t recall cautioning about banal skids.
A thought arose - Is this salvation to many a woe?
Next morn, I awoke to Whistling schoolboy's sweet twitter
Glistening dewdrops shone like diamonds, my, my;
I reckoned heaven is now, it is here.
At the green rush called Valparai.
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