badkismat konnection

Now I know that drooling incessantly over Shahid Kapoor and dragging your family to see the movie only because you can't get enough of his to-die-for looks is naughty, but to be punished for the naughtiness oh so severely is rather harsh - the movie is a mighty disaster. Sitting through it, one counts the number of better decisions one could have taken in life, such as:
1. Listened to one's parents more often
2. Studied more diligently
3. Saved more and not gone on that mindless shopping spree
4. Never wanting to see Kismat Konnection

Shahid, near perfect looks and fantastic dressing apart, does not know how to act. He tries so hard its painful to watch him. His comedy is so forced, so severe, it leaves one with a sick feeling in the stomach. But what good looks, perfect eye candy, every woman's dream - how sad that he is a half package.

Vidya Balan is so out of place in this movie that I nearly felt sorry for her. She looks awkward and tired, and whoever was responsible for clothing the leading pair poorly neglected the lady. Now I know that she has two and a half poses which she can carry off passably well and earn the goodwill of the critics, but the woman has absolutely nothing new to offer. She looks sad and dejected and brings nothing but under eye bags and dark circles to an ill-conceived set of reel shots.

I could go on about the pathetic editing and less than mediocre plot with a rubbish ending and horrible music but I shall spare you my thoughts just this once.

Please do yourself a favour and stick pins in your eyes rather than see this movie.

The Uncommon Reader

After a particularly boring stint of no work, no play, I decided to hit the bookstore. While the walk did me a lot of good, the merchandise has since worked wonders for my mood. Alan Bennett's The Uncommon Reader is a brilliantly tight work, funny and bold. Once I started reading it, I couldn't stop - it had to be finished. What does the Queen finally do? And of course, the love for reading, such a basic sentiment, like holding a friend's hand. The way she hides her books from those who don't want her to read and how she finds them to be mysteriously disappearing. Reminded me of the times I used to hide fiction behind the bulky, boring school books in my school bags. Someone described it as a fairy tale of adults. And I now know why. It is a delightful treatise on English literature through the eyes of the monarch, and at the same time, it is an introduction to the world of books through a quaint little mobile library. If there is one book you read this summer, it has really got to be The Uncommon Reader.

On to The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid now. Man! Am I enjoying this unplanned break! :-)

Someone at a distance

This one was an unexpectedly insightful read. The emptiness of a woman left alone by her husband for another woman after twenty odd years of marriage. Her conflict to come to terms with the reality, the helpless interospection, the furtive search for a skill she could set up her life on - simple writing at its best. Dorothy Whipple is back in fashion, and though her books are brightly covered to entice the new generation of readers, the fundamental moving forces of human behaviour remain the same - love, lust, jealousy, hatred and pride. Add to it the foolishness of a husband who, even as he is leaving his wife and home forever, knows what he is doing is wrong, and you have a beautifully simple, or shall I say simply beautiful piece of work.

Politics

Has anybody been watching the hideous drama unfolding in the Indian parliament? Somebody tell me that this is a horrible nightmare and that we will all wake up soon to realise that the world is still alright. That no longer is the common person's name used in vain in the game of politics, and the country is not bought and sold, over and over again, in the name of national interest.

I don't for a moment believe that real politics is un-dirty anywhere in the world. But it takes on its ugliest colour and most uncivilised form in the Indian parliament. How could a huge bag full of currency notes be allowed inside the parliament? How can MPs decide to take matters in their own hands and reduce the floor of the house to a stage where they execute their tamasha without the permission of the speaker? Why do grown up adults behave worse than four-year-old school children? Kidnapping MPs? Bribing them to abstain from voting? Allegations more and more disgusting each time around. Does anybody else feel its getting worse by the day?

On another note, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry when an elected member of parliament asked what exactly is the connection between energy and poverty. Seriously now, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and for once I was thankful to the TV channel for repeating stuff over and over again - no I hadn't made a mistake, this MP who represented lakhs of people in the country was actually asking how energy related to poverty. For someone to not understand these fundamentals of economic and social development and to have the power to decide for the country - isn't something basically very very wrong here? Its quite obvious from the projections of the media and the politicians that the country believes it is all set to be a world power to be reckoned with. While that concept itself is debatable, is it at all possible for us to trust what is being described variously as the political class? Can we get anywhere at all with this dubious breed of professionals whose primary talents include wearing different hats and fabricating lies?

Of babies and wanting them

S and I caught up over a good old chat session after what seemed like ages. And we went straight for the issue that was most bothering the both of us - why is everyone lugging for our throats to have babies?

So we are both 29 somethings, dangerously close to the big three-o. Happily married, happily 'careered', happily settled - looks like thats not enough. I am in London and she is in Delhi but our problem is the same - everyone wants us to have babies and people have stopped mincing their words.

After a massive bitching and getting-it-out-of-ourselves session, we came to the conclusion that we both want children too, just not as a result of the pressure. And there is no way of knowing if we want the babies because we want them or because there is so much social pressure to tow the line. Plus the fact that we seem to have lost all our friends to the baby-brigade. What are we poor women to do?

That was where it ended with S. Meanwhile, this weekend, A and I decided to brave it and go see a friend's new born baby girl. We were all prepared to see our friends completely transformed into 'I couldn't care less about you, I have a baby now' strangers. As it turned out, no such thing happened and our decision to risk such a rendez-vous over Saturday night proved to be a good one. Mercifully, this was the first couple we met lately who appeared to have things in something close to a perspective. They are delighted and doting parents, no doubt, but they are also themselves, which is so refreshing to see.

And baby girl N is an absolute darling. She doesn't cry much, and is constantly smiling at pooh and tiger hanging from her mobile. Occasionally she will grace you with a look of pure love - oh that look is definitely to die for. When I saw K, a successful career woman, singing songs in Malayalam that I don't understand but still adore, I knew that it was pure love. S, a high-flying investment banker, was transformed into an indulging, loving father whose sole aim in life was to feed his daughter. It was over the course of the evening that I realised why we yearn so much for children, why it is said that life may well be good but it can only become better and richer with children in it. And that is perhaps why, I am truly looking forward to having some of my own some day.

a little bit of luck

What is the difference between success and failure? All other things being equal, does it not boil down to the 'something' factor - the small quirks of fate that turn things around? One can try all one likes, if it's not going to happen, it won't. And if it has to happen, hindsight will reveal perfect actions on the individual's part. Even if things were to go wrong, somehow you will be able to turn them around.

So is this a blog about destiny versus human actions? I'm afraid no. If only things were that simple. Oddly enough, I think the big picture comprises of smaller bits of both karma and kismat. Luck and hard work together make the winning combination. Seldom can one survive without the other.

So with a hope in my heart, a song on my lips and a tea cup in my hand, I am seeking a little bit of luck. Will it change my world? Who knows...