Till three years back, I never used to go to the theaters. I found movies a waste of time and they did not appeal to me at all. I would occasionally catch up with movies on the TV but my big-screen total between 1990 and 2003 was, as far as I can remember, 8. I would sit through old movies on television, waiting eagerly for that priceless song in the usually ordinary proceedings. Else, who would sit through a thoroughly nerve-wrecking movie called Mahua - if not for the strong, poignant and rebel notes of 'Dono ne kiya tha pyar magar, mujhe yaad raha tu bhool gayi - Maine tere liye jag chhoda, tu mujhko chhod chali'. I did not watch a frame after this song was over, and frankly don't remember what I saw before.
With a proper fraction as my yearly average, I could barely be called a movie-goer. But this changed after I moved to out of house after college. I started going for the movies more frequently - and notched up quite a number of them by the time I moved to Hyderabad. With nothing much to do after work hours (and a 11-8 work hour at that), our group resorted to movies. I am not sure how many of us went for the movie itself, and many times people would turn up and ask - 'What's today?' Even though I liked quite a few we went for, including Dor, Rang De Basanti, Lage Raho Munnabhai, Parineeta and 'the different one', Being Cyrus, I have to admit the liking came after the show was over, and I never quite had a wishlist.
Anyways, it was fun with all those last minute plans, and I became quite an expert in identifying potential sellers outside the Box Office in the multiplexes, even in the first weekend of the show. The evening and night shows, which we usually went for, would mean we had to eat out either after or before the movie, respectively - and was an added incentive for a foodie like me. I remember going for a midnight buffet after watching Lage Raho Munnabhai - eating from 1:00 to 2:45.
All in all, it's good fun going out for the movies or have friends over at my place and rent a VCD. There's not much to do when you live away from home with new found friends who are, well almost all of them are, living away from home themselves.
Talking of movies, my favourite genre is comedy. Golmaal, Half Ticket, Munna Bhai and some Govinda movies top my list. I am also a great fan of Guru Dutt classics Pyaasa and Kaagaz Ke Phool.
And, on a very recent note (actually 2 days back), I'd suggest everyone who is reading this NOT to watch Salaam-e-Ishq under any circumstances. If someone tells you he'd pay for your ticket, or take you to dinner after the show, or whatever - please reply with a firm 'No, thanks.' Simply put, this is THE WORST movie I watched that I can recall.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Movie Going
Monday, January 29, 2007
Line of Fate
Yesterday will definitely go down as one of the worst days of my life. Little did I know about the outcome of going for a haircut, long due. The nearest barber shop was full - so I and my friend went to take a stroll. And, of all streets, walked to one that hosted a shop with an unbelievably attractive sign - "$4.99 hair cut". It was too tempting not to have a closer look.
Getting in, we found around 20 people cutting and about a 20 more waiting for their customers. Someone said - 'Sign in there'. We signed - even though the declaration above started with 'I hereby understand that the students working here are not professionals and are aspiring barbers... I understand that I might get injured in the process...' I have no explanation whatsoever as to why we did not come out of that den then and there. :)
I was directed by the student instructor towards a chair and asked what number I'd go for from the chart displayed above. Confused, I just said I want my present style to be preserved. So he instructed to his waiting student - 'Do a 4 on the sides, 6 on the upper area and scissors on top' -and went away. I could see the clumsiness in the first few clips and in the way he was going about the whole task at hand. Unknowingly, I joined my palms for a silent prayer.
The 4 was over and so was the 6. But his hands shook when it held the scissors. His ordeal showed in his face and found expressions in his frequent 'I'm sorry'-s. At one point of time, I told him he needs to hold the comb in the other hand to do what he was trying to do. Two deep cuts made me utter the only words I found that could save, literally, my face - 'Please go ahead with the blades if you are not comfortable with the scissors'.
His reply was that of a confident man - 'Definitely better - I'm a blade man, you see.'
Five minutes later, I realised there was no way I could save myself. I just decided to close my eyes and let him make merry. When I opened my eyes and looked at the progress, the hurt showed in my own reflection - and I was doubly sure to see my friend standing far away and laughing his heart out looking at me. Whatever little doubt I had went away after one glimpse of the look in his eyes. I could feel he had already got over the dissatisfaction over his own makeover - after seeing the still amateur craftsman giving the final touches to his, maybe first, creation.
The thing that took the cake was the razor clean hairline he made on my forehead. A straight line running ridiculously parallel to the brows, and demarcating hair from skin - is what anyone would see on my person if I stand in front. A deeper, sharper line runs where this blow cut across my bleeding heart.
Getting in, we found around 20 people cutting and about a 20 more waiting for their customers. Someone said - 'Sign in there'. We signed - even though the declaration above started with 'I hereby understand that the students working here are not professionals and are aspiring barbers... I understand that I might get injured in the process...' I have no explanation whatsoever as to why we did not come out of that den then and there. :)
I was directed by the student instructor towards a chair and asked what number I'd go for from the chart displayed above. Confused, I just said I want my present style to be preserved. So he instructed to his waiting student - 'Do a 4 on the sides, 6 on the upper area and scissors on top' -and went away. I could see the clumsiness in the first few clips and in the way he was going about the whole task at hand. Unknowingly, I joined my palms for a silent prayer.
The 4 was over and so was the 6. But his hands shook when it held the scissors. His ordeal showed in his face and found expressions in his frequent 'I'm sorry'-s. At one point of time, I told him he needs to hold the comb in the other hand to do what he was trying to do. Two deep cuts made me utter the only words I found that could save, literally, my face - 'Please go ahead with the blades if you are not comfortable with the scissors'.
His reply was that of a confident man - 'Definitely better - I'm a blade man, you see.'
Five minutes later, I realised there was no way I could save myself. I just decided to close my eyes and let him make merry. When I opened my eyes and looked at the progress, the hurt showed in my own reflection - and I was doubly sure to see my friend standing far away and laughing his heart out looking at me. Whatever little doubt I had went away after one glimpse of the look in his eyes. I could feel he had already got over the dissatisfaction over his own makeover - after seeing the still amateur craftsman giving the final touches to his, maybe first, creation.
The thing that took the cake was the razor clean hairline he made on my forehead. A straight line running ridiculously parallel to the brows, and demarcating hair from skin - is what anyone would see on my person if I stand in front. A deeper, sharper line runs where this blow cut across my bleeding heart.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Subway Stop
Coming out of my laziness, I took the subway today - despite having to walk a few blocks in the freezing cold. It's easier to come out, hail a cab and be home in 20 minutes. But the subway surely has more experience in store. For instance, today the train just stopped at Fulton Street for a full 10 minutes. No one knew the reason, no one showed any signs of restlessness. Most commuters here, even if getting down a couple of stops later, would open a book or plug in the i-pod and sink in. 10 minutes of a stoppage without any announcement does not make the New Yorker stir. I was sorely missing the presence of a fellow Calcuttan with me. Sounds of 'Ki Dada, train-ta cholbe naki?' were echoing inside my mind - would have surely come out if there were one. Loosely translated it means - well, the essence of comments like this cannot be captured in translations :)
Thursday, January 25, 2007
TV again
I switched on the television after a long time yesterday. The channels I get here are from the basic package the cable company provides - and, hence, are not worth raving for. Morever, I am not a TV regular and do not fall in the 'everybody' group that loves Raymond. Neither am I an English movie/music buff. I am not into basketball, baseball and golf - that is shown almost always in the sports channels. This leaves me totally out of choices and I just managed a princely combined duration of 2 FIFA world cup matches and another 20 minutes in front of the TV in my apartment in five months.
Yesterday night was different. After a long time, I switched it on for the Australian Open Women's Semifinal match between Maria Sharapova and Kim Clijsters. The match turned out to be almost entirely one-sided as Sharapova cruised to a straight-set victory. Much to my disappointment, though - Clijsters, along with Justine Henin-Hardenne, is one of the two women I like in the circuit at present. Sania Mirza remains a sentimental favourite nonetheless.
Talking of tennis, if I were to pick just 2 of my favourite players, I'd pick Andre Agassi and Gabriela Sabatini. They remain my favourites from as early as I can recall.
I am not interested in the men's game after Agassi's retirement and would not want to watch Sharapova vs Serena Williams. So I guess I had my share of tennis viewing for now. Will Sania Mirza break into the 30s once again? Would there be any different champion in the men's grandslams this year ( other than the 3-1 between Federer and Nadal)? These are the questions I'd be having this year...
Yesterday night was different. After a long time, I switched it on for the Australian Open Women's Semifinal match between Maria Sharapova and Kim Clijsters. The match turned out to be almost entirely one-sided as Sharapova cruised to a straight-set victory. Much to my disappointment, though - Clijsters, along with Justine Henin-Hardenne, is one of the two women I like in the circuit at present. Sania Mirza remains a sentimental favourite nonetheless.
Talking of tennis, if I were to pick just 2 of my favourite players, I'd pick Andre Agassi and Gabriela Sabatini. They remain my favourites from as early as I can recall.
I am not interested in the men's game after Agassi's retirement and would not want to watch Sharapova vs Serena Williams. So I guess I had my share of tennis viewing for now. Will Sania Mirza break into the 30s once again? Would there be any different champion in the men's grandslams this year ( other than the 3-1 between Federer and Nadal)? These are the questions I'd be having this year...
All About Laugh
We all love to laugh. But at times I get restive seeing some people laugh. I am talking of that class of people who you will find rolling in splits at something amusing - but reactive, angry and even vindictive when the joke is on them. I just do not like people who are like this. Most of us, however, would wait till the tide dies down when we are at the receiving end. And then - there is a small group who would laugh the loudest when in a similar situation. Laughing at myself - I have to admit - makes me happiest.
I have a very good friend who shares this trait. We rarely met after college- but whenver we talked over the phone, a great deal of talktime used to be spent on our recent 'achievements'. This done, we would move on to what others did - and conversations hardly went out of hilarious accounts/experiences. He came to the USA recently and we are having a rollicking time during the weekends when he comes over. We met for lunch today at a chinese joint near my office. Just as he picked up his fork to gorge on his chicken and rice, the man behind the counter came hurriedly and picked up his plate and went back. He apologised - saying that he had given him someone else's food by mistake. I could have given anything for the perplexed look on his face, the still down-pointing fork reflecting his state of mind. We had a good laugh over the incident and it made up for the disappointment over the overly sweet General Tso's chicken which he could manage to just half-eat.
He had come to my office after work a few days back and we had a very simple plan - pick up the one of my teammates from his Broadway office in our cab and go home. The friend would get a missed call and come out on the streets - and I assured him that my call would be so sweetly timed that he would come out to our braking taxi. I was, throughout, telling my friend about cabs since that was his first cab ride - how you stop one, rates, routes, tips, etc. It was all going well. But just as I picked up the phone, I realised that I did not have any minutes left on my cell. I tried to make my brain work beyond its capacity - and it retaliated brutally. As our street touched Broadway, I told him to take a right - on a one-way going left! He looked at the mirror and taught me a new meaning of 'if looks could kill' altogether. Then, why I don't know, I dialed my cell again. Failing at that too, I told him to wait at that junction till I walk down a few blocks, make a call from the building reception to my waiting friend, come back with him when he was down from the 13th floor. The cabbie said many things, which were supposed to bring a lot of curses on my being, but ended up in rumbling sounds at the most. I came to my senses and did the only thing I could do - settled the bill, with a 25% tip. As we were leaving the car, he finally got his speech back. "I don't know what kind of a passenger you are" is all we could hear.
I end here, and I hope I could bring home the point I started this post with.
I have a very good friend who shares this trait. We rarely met after college- but whenver we talked over the phone, a great deal of talktime used to be spent on our recent 'achievements'. This done, we would move on to what others did - and conversations hardly went out of hilarious accounts/experiences. He came to the USA recently and we are having a rollicking time during the weekends when he comes over. We met for lunch today at a chinese joint near my office. Just as he picked up his fork to gorge on his chicken and rice, the man behind the counter came hurriedly and picked up his plate and went back. He apologised - saying that he had given him someone else's food by mistake. I could have given anything for the perplexed look on his face, the still down-pointing fork reflecting his state of mind. We had a good laugh over the incident and it made up for the disappointment over the overly sweet General Tso's chicken which he could manage to just half-eat.
He had come to my office after work a few days back and we had a very simple plan - pick up the one of my teammates from his Broadway office in our cab and go home. The friend would get a missed call and come out on the streets - and I assured him that my call would be so sweetly timed that he would come out to our braking taxi. I was, throughout, telling my friend about cabs since that was his first cab ride - how you stop one, rates, routes, tips, etc. It was all going well. But just as I picked up the phone, I realised that I did not have any minutes left on my cell. I tried to make my brain work beyond its capacity - and it retaliated brutally. As our street touched Broadway, I told him to take a right - on a one-way going left! He looked at the mirror and taught me a new meaning of 'if looks could kill' altogether. Then, why I don't know, I dialed my cell again. Failing at that too, I told him to wait at that junction till I walk down a few blocks, make a call from the building reception to my waiting friend, come back with him when he was down from the 13th floor. The cabbie said many things, which were supposed to bring a lot of curses on my being, but ended up in rumbling sounds at the most. I came to my senses and did the only thing I could do - settled the bill, with a 25% tip. As we were leaving the car, he finally got his speech back. "I don't know what kind of a passenger you are" is all we could hear.
I end here, and I hope I could bring home the point I started this post with.
Company
My office has suddenly become a better place. My friend from my India team finally joined me here yesterday - and we are having a great time working and interacting together in office. Makes things easy for him to settle in, and breaks my monotony that I unwantedly had to bear for the 4 months I was here prior to this. We talked throughout the day, and worked together. We even finished a short, impromptu photo session (short because the batteries gave way) sometime back. By the time I go back to India in 10 days, he would be knowing the people and process around him without having to explore. And, I will be happy that my stay in this office at least ended on a high note. 'All is well that ends in the well' - as someone said long back :)
Office back in India is so different - it's like being in a group of compulsive pranksters vying for the ultimate championship. It's fun and utterly nonsensical, let's talk about it in a separate entry here. It's time to leave for the day.
Smiles!
Office back in India is so different - it's like being in a group of compulsive pranksters vying for the ultimate championship. It's fun and utterly nonsensical, let's talk about it in a separate entry here. It's time to leave for the day.
Smiles!
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
My First Sub
It is not that I had never had at Subway before, but that was in India where you hardly find any person other than those behind the counter. I could take my own time and customize my order as well. Still, I did not like what I had that time and could not correlate the word cold with sandwich while paying so much. Anyways, seeing the long queues at the nearby Subway joint everyday, I thought of trying to see if this was any different.
The first difference - Fast Food queues should move real fast. And so, even though I was around twenty odd in the line, it was hardly 3 minutes before I was to order - fully undecided about my order. The fast movement of the queue was apparent from the fact that 6 people were behind the counter. Your bread travels from one to the next till it becomes a sandwich and you pay to the last person.
The first person asked what type of bread. I replied - "I don't need." :D (He had pointed to a chart that had all the bread varieties, but the only thing I read was, add a delicious garlic bread to your subway meal.) Then he said, "How can I make it without the bread?" Finally I said I wanted the first bread type.
The bread passed on to the next person.
She said - Cheese? My reply - "No, thanks". That would have meant paying extra, you know. But on quickly running my eyes on the board I found no mention of paying extra for cheese. But it was already too late.
The bread passed on to the next person and I could not understand what she did other than passing it on. The next person gave me a look and I could understand she was expecting me to say something, but did not understand what. Finally she said - "What all you need?" Did not get her accent and thought she said something else. So I replied - "yes, fine." She said, pointing - "WHAT ALL? Lettuce? Tomato?" I got the point and continued - "Onion, ummm.. yes that's all." Then realised what all I should have said when the girl behind me replied to the same question - "Lettuce, tomato, onion, carrot, cabbage, pickle, jalapeno, olive…" I realised what I had missed because mine was already packed. And then came further grief when I heard the girl continue - "yes, mayonnaise, mustard, yes a little bit…."
The bread passed on to the next person who billed it and said enjoy your Sub! Enjoy I did!
Afterall, I unknowingly removed some extra calories from what they claim to already reduce. And, like the calories, I had taken away most of the taste out of what little it was supposed to have.
The first difference - Fast Food queues should move real fast. And so, even though I was around twenty odd in the line, it was hardly 3 minutes before I was to order - fully undecided about my order. The fast movement of the queue was apparent from the fact that 6 people were behind the counter. Your bread travels from one to the next till it becomes a sandwich and you pay to the last person.
The first person asked what type of bread. I replied - "I don't need." :D (He had pointed to a chart that had all the bread varieties, but the only thing I read was, add a delicious garlic bread to your subway meal.) Then he said, "How can I make it without the bread?" Finally I said I wanted the first bread type.
The bread passed on to the next person.
She said - Cheese? My reply - "No, thanks". That would have meant paying extra, you know. But on quickly running my eyes on the board I found no mention of paying extra for cheese. But it was already too late.
The bread passed on to the next person and I could not understand what she did other than passing it on. The next person gave me a look and I could understand she was expecting me to say something, but did not understand what. Finally she said - "What all you need?" Did not get her accent and thought she said something else. So I replied - "yes, fine." She said, pointing - "WHAT ALL? Lettuce? Tomato?" I got the point and continued - "Onion, ummm.. yes that's all." Then realised what all I should have said when the girl behind me replied to the same question - "Lettuce, tomato, onion, carrot, cabbage, pickle, jalapeno, olive…" I realised what I had missed because mine was already packed. And then came further grief when I heard the girl continue - "yes, mayonnaise, mustard, yes a little bit…."
The bread passed on to the next person who billed it and said enjoy your Sub! Enjoy I did!
Afterall, I unknowingly removed some extra calories from what they claim to already reduce. And, like the calories, I had taken away most of the taste out of what little it was supposed to have.
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