A visit to Pochampally village

Pochampally is the land of exotic  Ikkat weaves and the historic Bhudaan movement.  This was an unplanned long drive with family on a Sunday. My Alto must have felt good to cross the city limits and feel the freshness of nature as we touched the highways. Pochampally is 50 kms from Hyderabad; driving on the busy Vijayawada highway was quite a thrill! The village is surrounded by scenic hills lending it a picturesque look.

As we entered the village, I felt excited about  meeting some weavers and spending some time with them. I drove past the narrow lanes of their colonies and found that almost all the houses were locked.  Then we got to know that they had come to the city since it was a Sunday. So we couldn’t meet any of them. Then we headed towards the APTDC guest house and found that the staff was ill-equipped with information about the place. In fact, the entire guest house and museum complex was deserted. However, we caught a glimpse of the lake while driving; the lake didn’t seem to have been maintained properly.

Later, we wanted to try our luck with the Handloom park. Even the park was closed. The security person told us that the best time to visit Pochampally is on a week-day! Added to these disappointments, we could not find any good eatery on the main road. So we ended up buying some stuff from a ‘mithai bhandar’ for the return to the city.

The trip would not have been so bad if the government's initiatives were well-thought out to promote eco-tourism on weekends too! Pochampally has tremendous potential for eco-tourism, hope it is optimized well for creating awareness about our weavers.

Pigeons – pests? nightmare?

Forget about all the romantic associations with this winged creature. Songs like kabutar jaa, jaa or the more recent masakali, masakali… must be for people who haven’t seen what a pain these apparently innocuous birds can actually be. Over the past one year or so, the open spaces between our flats have become home for these pests. I never imagined that the design of our flats (with no common walls) could actually land us in trouble with several birds perched on the most unimaginable spots – windowsills, drain pipes, balconies, AC units. 

Because of this menace, my flat is deprived of good ventilation. The doors and windows need to be closed all the time because leaving them open would mean inviting them to create more nuisance and dirty the place. The only way to keep away these birds would be covering the balconies with a mesh. And I don’t think I accept this as the solution, perhaps when all else fails, I might consider meshing it up.

But till then, I wanted to try other ways to shoo them away. Once I saw a note put up on the notice board of our apartments. It suggested a natural and harmless way of keeping away the pigeons. The idea was to keep some chillies, pepper and cinnamon in a plate where the birds usually perch. I followed the instructions only to find that the next minute the plate in which I kept the stuff and its contents were thrown down promptly by the birds. Next, my domestic help told me that she would catch at least one of them and then take it far away and leave it there. I thought this was a rather hurtful method so did not encourage her. But, one day she actually caught one of them and put it in a bag and carried it away. Her idea was that this would make other get scared and stop them from entering our house. Sadly, this didn’t work either! Now what? The other day I had left the bedroom window open and went to have my bath. When I was came out I was taken aback…there was a pigeon pecking on the neatly ironed dress which was on the bed. And when they enter inside they can be anywhere – on the cupboard, on the fan, on the paintings – how menacing! what a nightmare!

I was reminded of the “Durbar Hall” of the Kothi Women’s College where I studied. It had hundreds of pigeons. During our exams the pigeons would become such a nuisance - it was common to see pigeons dirtying the exam papers and making us rewrite on a fresh page!

A visit to Ramoji Film City (RFC)

The first time I visited Ramoji Film City was in 2000 and now, my second visit was exactly after 10 years. This time I went with my team in the office. Last time I accompanied my relatives from Bangalore who were here for my brother’s wedding reception.

We had a pleasant ride in the Tata Winger hired for this trip – taking pictures and having fun, good occasion for team bonding. The Vijayawada highway is one of the busy roads, especially with several district buses entering and leaving the city. The picturesque location  where the largest film city in the world is located, is a sight to behold as you enter the hotel Sitara. We had booked the Sitara entire day package for our tour. It included the bus rides, lunch, fun and games and snacks.

RFC has several gardens based on themes that are landscaped and maintained to perfection…the replica of Moghul gardens, the Japanese gardens or the maze…There are caves, interesting ‘sculptures’, statuettes etc. These would form the natural setting for picturizing a typical Indian film song. The sets take you to a world of make-believe where every structure transforms itself into a ‘real’ building or a setting when the camera rolls and the director says “Action!” You have the college, the jail, the airport, the railway station and whatever is needed for the scene.

The “Movie Magic” was the best part of the tour. I liked it because it conveys in an interesting and simple way the complex process of movie making for a lay person. The demo includes a ‘live’ movie making with some volunteers who bring out the importance of different aspects like light, sound, editing, sound mixing in making a movie. It is also like paying a tribute to those thousands who work behind the scenes while the main actors enjoy the stardom as it were. Once the movie process is demystified, you have a display of stunts performed by professionals.

Other attractions include the 4D theatre, the scary house, the fun and rides for kids etc. If you are lucky you may catch a glimpse of your favourite star in the shoot. 

The mirror as seen in some Hindi movie songs
I felt like keying down some random notes, when I thought over the imagery of mirror or aaina in some memorable songs. Often seen as a metaphor for reflection, I guess there may be many songs that refer to the many facets of aaina - existential and philosophical - literal and figurative. Here are some I could think of:
Kyaa koi nai baat nazar aati hai hum mein

Aainaa hamen dekh ke hairaan saa kyon hai

(Last two lines from the song "Seene mein jalan aakhon mein toofan sa kyon hai...")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyoKDxbbhIs

From the movie: Gaman ( lyrics- Sharyar, music - Jaidev, singer -Suresh Wadkar)

Such beautiful lyrics have become a thing of the past...Let me try translating them...Is there something new about me? The mirror and I - we both are the same, but why is it that the mirror is surprised looking at me? Some lyrical compositions, like this one, are difficult to translate as they do not retain the essence of the original, lose the magic. Perhaps, the newness in me is because of the way I look today. But, I couldn't have changed so much that the mirror finds me so very different. Now, lyrics from another song:

Aaina wohi reheta hai Chehere badal jaate hain

Aakhon mein rukte nahin jo aansoo nikal jaate hain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFsgQ2Hrg5o&feature=related

From the movie: Shalimar

How true! The mirror remains the same, and we change - mind, body and soul. We really change or we wear masks - a mask for every occasion. I looked back and pondered, "how often do I look into the mirror? how much time do I spend in front of the mirror?" Not more than few seconds in a day! In fact, the only time I get to see myself in the mirror is when I'm in the lift of my apartment that has mirrors on three sides. 

Does the mirror remember I how used to look earlier? Then why does it ask me for my 'previous' face as described beautifully in the lyrics below:

Aaina mujhse meri peheli si surat maange

Mere apne mere hone ki nishani maange

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGkmoCv4R6w

From the movie: Daddy (Singer- Talat Aziz)

Is that the reason my mirror finds something strange in me. It has seen me grow up and seen me go through changes at various stages of my life. Why does the mirror feel startled looking at me? Certainly not because of the way I look! For, I've looked more or less the same always. Is it because of my expression? Is it because of the things I've forgotten? Is it because of the things I remember? Which previous 'image' of mine is the mirror trying to match? How does the mirror remember so many of my them?

Isn't mirror a chronicler of  life - imprinting all the events as it were!

Nous ne sortirons qu'au printemps 

Feeling nostalgic about my French classes, especially thinking of Prof. Christian Asquaciati, Madame Rastogi and Madame Sishupal. I'm glad to find the lyrics of one of the songs taught in our Adv. Diploma.

Richard Anthony

Nous ne sortirons qu'au printemps

Non, ce n'est pas une hirondelle
Qui vient de déchirer le ciel
Les grives et les tourterelles
Dorment encore d'un profond sommeil

Ecoute, c'est le vent qui passe
Et qui recourbe nos sapins
Regarde, ce matin, la glace
Recouvre encore l'étang voisin

Pourquoi veux-tu aller dehors ?
L'hiver n'est pas tout à fait mort
Pour nous aimer, prenons le temps
Nous ne sortirons qu'au printemps
Autour de nous, tout est pareil
Tu n'as vu qu'un peu de soleil
Reste encore près du feu de bois
Tu vois, l'hiver est toujours là

Les fleurs n'ont pas percé la neige
Et je n'entends pas les ruisseaux
Le ciel est gris, le ciel est beige
Le givre est toujours aux carreaux

Pourquoi veux-tu aller dehors ?
L'hiver n'est pas tout à fait mort
Pour nous aimer, prenons le temps
Nous ne sortirons qu'au printemps
Autour de nous, tout est pareil
Tu n'as vu qu'un peu de soleil
Oublie le monde, oublie le temps
Nous ne sortirons qu'au printemps

Qu'au printemps.

Proof-reading my book...how I miss you!
It's a strange feeling these days, ever since I got to see, hold and feel all the chapters of my book together. This is hard to express. It's something that you feel when you are unable to share your happiness at reaching a milestone with your most loved ones. I missed my father at every little goal I accomplished in the last two years of my writing, re-writing and editing. And now, I remember him each time I look at the first proofs of the printed chapters; I'm sure he would have been more excited than I am and would have eagerly awaited to see it in final shape. I know he would have definitely helped me with at least one round of proof-reading using those standard 'proof-reading' symbols (like he had done for my dissertations).

Sometimes, I feel I've had imaginary conversations with him, telling him in detail about the subject of my book, updating him on the progress, my meetings with the publisher (Mr. Madhu Reddy), introducing him to the editor (Ms. Dharani. K), the difficulties I've been facing in managing my writing along with regular office, and every little thing to do with it...just like how I used to narrate things during my college days and take pride in telling him about any reward or recognition that I got. Or, how he would 'react' looking at any write-up of mine published in newspapers and magazines. I miss those words of encouragement and appreciation.

My father was not an academician but he was indirectly associated with academics throughout his career at CIEFL. I remember when I was pursuing my PGDTE at CIEFL, how he would get curious about me working on new ideas for textbooks and new ways of teaching English. He would often ask me if I was going to write textbooks after my research. Perhaps, that was not the way my career would take shape, as I bid adieu to college teaching after a brief stint and got into e-learning design and development in an MNC.

However the idea of writing/publishing a book (not a textbook) remained with me, and I explored several options. I wanted to publish my Ph.D dissertation, but that didn't seem practical as I 'changed' my career and my professional priorities were different. Later, I explored writing on 'Instructional Design' since most of my articles and presentations were well-received and I was asked by several professionals to write more on this subject. But, this didn't seem to work as the topic was too narrow and that was not how I wanted to project the area of content design for e-learning. Later, I toyed with the idea of working on a professional blog on the same subject but didn't pursue it further.

Then, one fine day, it was like a 'revelation' for me. In one of my invited talks on e-learning design at CDAC, some participants sought help in learning on their own about various aspects of e-learning.  I quoted some references from websites and mentioned my idea about blog to them. Immediately, I heard some of them saying that to access the blog or to refer to the web pages, they need the Internet and most of them do not have access to the Internet. Not that I wasn't aware of this fact, but this point was bothering me because I felt what they said was true about most of the teachers and trainers in India. That's when I felt that I should reconsider my book and start working on it again. This time, it was on e-learning design, development and delivery, specifically targeted at the Indian audience.

More about my book in the next blog.

An evening with Mukesh

I wanted this Sunday evening to be different, a really relaxing one with good music, something that is soulful and refreshing. Last weekend, Total Recall on Times Now channel paid a tribute to Mukesh on his 34th death anniversary. Ever since I watched this dedicated episode, I felt as if I was 'haunted' by Mukesh's songs, the episode was a neatly woven piece with archival info, pictures, interviews and songs classified decade-wise, his playback from Raj Kapoor to Rajesh Khanna. Like all other episodes of Total Recall this was informative and memorable, making it special to all the lovers of Hindi cinema and its immortal creators. Of all his songs, I've had some favorites like Kahin door jab din dhal jayen from Anand, Kai baar yunhi dekha hai from Rajnigandha, Jaane kahan gaye woh din from Mera Naam Joker and Sajan re jhoot mat bolo from Teesri kasam and so on...Let's look at the classic from Rajnigandha:
kai baar yunhi dekha hai, yeh jo man ki seema rekha hai
man todne lagta hai,
anjaani pyaas ke peeche, anjaani aas ke peeche
man daudne lagta hai...



Today, when I went to Ratnadeep for routine grocery and stuff, I couldn't resist picking up an MP3 compilation with some of the best songs of Mukesh. The CD has 40 songs, 30 of them are super hit numbers picturised on actors like Raj Kapoor, Amitabh Bachchan, Manoj Kumar, Rajesh Khanna and others.

Incorrigibly romantic that I've always been, I was always in awe of the lyrics and the compositions in Kishore Kumar's immortal creations. And Mukesh did not fit into my perception of 'romantic' music. Hence, earlier I could never relate to Mukesh with such intensity, though my parents, especially, my father was a Mukesh fan more because of his renditions for Raj Kapoor. This time, after ages, I reconnected with Mukesh, and the experience was different, perhaps a sign of how such music fills a void in today's fastpaced life and meaningless stuff in the name of entertaiment. The philosophical strain in most of his songs had a cathartic effect, complementing those meaningful lyrics there was music by Shankar Jaikishan, Salil Chaudhary and Khayyam...it created an atmosphere that is kind of unearthly. I wondered how it must have been in the times of singers like Mukesh, Lata Mangeshkar, Manna Dey, Kishore Kumar and Mohd. Rafi, music and singing must have been such a spiritual pursuit for all of them. How true, 'the sweetest songs really tell you of the saddest thoughts', the sadness from loss and betrayal or themes related to ultimate truth or the complex human relationship, Mukesh had an inimitable style and a flair for conveying the beautiful lyrics in a voice that touched our hearts and tranquilised our minds.

There's something mystical about the monsoon skies*

View from my balcony

The skyscapes with myriad hues
Symbolic colors expressing several emotions
Ranging from pure serenity to frightful fury
Clear blues quickly turn amber
Suddenly enveloped with shades of grey
As greys disappear into sombre black
The celestial spectacle leaves me spellbound
As if the stage is being set with a magical wand
For several scenes to be performed
And when the overcast skies open up
The scenes unfold in drops, downpour and deluge
Sometimes the clouds fooling you
With all the thunder and lightening
They fill you with an air of expectancy and hope
Of an impending shower or an incessant pour

The city seems to have become more unreal
And I get caught in the inevitable realities of urban living
I stop blaming the concrete structures
Find my own ways of connecting with nature
So what if I can't walk on the green grass
I have the privilege of looking at the sky
When every green patch is turned into a permanent dwelling
I'm left with nowhere to look, but to the sky for peace, solace or inspiration
Often thanking my stars for the view from my balcony
Though it limits the horizon
I try to look beyond with gratitude.

*Blogger tells me that this is my 100th blog post:)

I can relate to your experience Archana!
...Though not completely, but yes, the relationship of parents and attitude towards a single daughter, the taken-for-grantedness and much more.  How you and I, as kids, became crisis managers in our families, where was the childhood I wonder... how I had to grow up soon, there was no choice...I'm moved, touched, reading your blogs because it seemed so autobiographical, especially how I became a dedicated care giver when my father was suffering from a terminal disease...how I would weep alone whenever I looked at his medical reports and deteriorating conditions, how, on most occasions, I would go alone to get him tested in the hospital, collect the reports, again alone...all this while managing my work at office...and so on.
But, no regret at all! I'm glad to have owned and shown responsbility at the crucial moments without bothering too much about the dynamics of singlehood, relationship with siblings, etc etc and never once did I bow down to the 'social pressure' of changing my singlehood for reasons whatsoever. Perhaps that was how I could return all that my father gave me by not forcing me to do things that I never wanted to...and I do have my bit of fun because I take life the way it comes!
http://ibnlive.in.com/blogs/archanajahagirdar/2770/61955/a-depressed-dad-being-single--life-in-between.html?from=tn

Bitter, sweet, sour... this new year

New life, new living, a fresh beginning
Like everything that blossoms in Spring
The season of rejuvenation
The season of mirth, joy and revelry
As the nature seems to blush like roses
As trees in full bloom turn yellow and pink
Gulmohurs waiting to spread cheer
With their bright orange and red hues
Hidden there would be some koel or myna
Waiting to break into a fresh morning song.

New thoughts, new ideas
Unfurling like the tender mango leaves
A whole bunch of tender mangoes
Green little, sour things reminding me
That sourness is a taste to savor.

I walk past the whiff of sweet scent of Neem flowers
The huge neem tree covered with delicate white flowers
Frail little bitter things reminding me
That bitterness is also a taste to savour.

Far away there seems to have been an early shower
The familiar smell of first showers on dry earth
The sweet smelling air reminding me
That sweetness is not just in sugar
It's an everlasting taste of all things pleasant.

The days get longer and warmer
Signs of impending summer
Perhaps a severe one, hotter than the previous one
Sweltering, scorching and sizzling
Forcing me to be indoors till the Sun goes down

The tender coconut vendor
Sits there around the corner
Under the shade of huge green tree
Quenching the thirst of a passer-by
Or selling the refreshing drink to as many

In the evening
The bazaars are graced by the divine Jasmine
The heavenly perfume fills the air
As the buds slowly bloom into flowers
Making every evening a special one
For the dame, adorning her long hair
Or as earnest offerings at places of worship.

Taking together
Sweet with bitter and sour
Just as the tastes of nature are many
A melange of several feelings and experiences
Isn't this true of us, as we step into another year.


Image courtesy: http://in.ygoy.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/ugadi.jpg

Our sweetest songs are those that tell you of ...

Our sweetest songs are those that tell you of sad thoughts, bitter-sweet realities, existential and profound truths- to extend Shelley's famous lines. Isn't this true of most of our movie songs? There's a mystical charm about songs that make us feel exalted, elevating our spirits while experiencing the lyrics, the music and the singer. The way these songs are composed brings out the best in the singer, making us feel the emotions vicariously - poignant and cathartic -intoxicating and liberating - existential and transcendental. The lyrics of each song, highly poetic, composed and rendered with utmost artistic appeal. Such sublime beauty is rare to find these days when songs have become 'musical' commodities, created, packaged and distributed - legal or pirated. Most of these songs have remained as masterpieces with everlasting listening pleasure for the discerning listener. Here are some of my eternal favorites:

Yaad kiya dil ne kahan ho tum jhoomti bahar hai kahan ho tum...
Ae dil-e-nadaan, arzoo kya, justaju kya hai...
Yun hasraton ke khwab mohabat main dho liye, khud dil se dil ke baat kahi aur ro liye...
Hasne ki chaah ne itna mujhe rulaya hai, koi hamdard and dard mera saya hai...
Chingaari koi bhadke to sawan use bhujhye, sawan jo agan lageye use kaun bujhaye ...
Main to ek khwab hun, is khwab se to pyaar na kar...
Suhani raat dhal chuki na jaane tum kab aaoge, hawa bhi rukh badal chuki...
Tujhse naraaz nahi zindagi hairan hun main, tere masoom sawalon se pareshan hun main...
Yeh jeevan hai is jeevan ka yahi hai , yahi hai rang roop..
Katra katra milti hai, katra katra jeene do zindagi hai, behene do pyasi hun main pyasi rehene do..
Tere bina zindagi se koi shikwa to nahin, shikwa nahin...
Aane wala pal jaane wala hai, ho sake to isme zindagi bitalo pal jo yeh jaane wala hai...
Jaane woh kaise log the jinke pyaar to pyaar mila, humne ne toh jab kaliyan maangi kaanton ka haar mila...

Kites

Thin sheets of coloured papers

Transformed into

Wondrous pieces of colourful craft

Purple, pink and pale green

Red, blue, white and yellow

Like pieces flying from the rainbow

A colour for each emotion

And a colour for each reason

Like my aspirations

Flying high, flying low, flying even

Blown by gentle breeze and strong winds
Gliding, sailing and soaring new heights.

Amazing artifacts!

Don’t they look like pictures of human imagination

Framed with thin bamboo strips

Fragile but strong with courage and determination

Shaped by hopes, desires, beliefs, convictions

As if telling stories

Of thoughts, actions, dreams, promises and failures

Of hits and misses striking a balance

As they rise higher and raise my hopes

Or plummet suddenly reminding me of a possible despair.

Look at the ones that are flying high

Rustling sound of crisp paper

Forming tiny specks of myriad hues

Some get tangled and some get cut

A flight cut short, perhaps a reminder

Of how we clash, win or lose

How we give in to ego, envy or other emotions

I let my ambitions soar as high as the kite I fly

The string that it’s tied to is as strong as my will

The sky is where I look for my limits

I hold it tightly

Then I loosen my grip

Alternating between…

Seeking control.

Ethereal creations!

Will you be my guide to fanciful flights?

In a new world beyond the clouds and cosmic realities

Where I become a child all over again

Fascinated by the world of fairies with magic wands

Excited about fulfilling my wishes and wants

As you carry my message

Beyond the bright blue and white clouds.

The year that was...

My motto in 2009: "I am my competition" and "Re-live and enjoy the intellectual waywardness all over again long after my doctoral studies"

Job, professional
New and pleasantly unexpected creative challenges, geared up to do my best
Exploring social media, its potential for learning, marketing B2B enterprise software
Completed 10 years in e-learning, new media and corporate training- glad that I followed my heart and quit teaching English
Discovery
The convenience and power of social networking, connecting through Facebook, touch base with old friends
Writing
Writing my book and working on a plan to market it
Writing, writing and writing...simply loved every bit of the slog
Movies I thoroughly enjoyed
Kaminey, Wake up Sid
Movies that could have been better
Kurbaan and 3 Idiots
Became a fan of
Ranbir Kapoor (doesn't mean I'm ditching Shah Rukh Khan)
Enjoyable moments
Listening to Sanjeev Abhayankar during those stress-filled days
Early morning 'Moonset' and catching it on my lens
The drive to airport on Expressway
The thrill of seeing 267pages in shape!
Regretted
Spending at Shoppers' Stop and Woodland and ending up with dresses that shrunk and got discolored and footwear that never lasted for more even 3 months.
Not checking the stepney of my car when the tyre got punctured and I ended up with two punctured tyres
Best buy and ownership
Replacing my kitchen chimney with Faber
Over with EMIs - now I own my car
Finally decided to own a vacuum cleaner as borrowing from Madhu was more of an excuse for not cleaning frequently...nothing much has changed even after owning one:)
Satisfying buy at Fabindia, Bangalore
Jewellery
Parting with my earrings (a collection of 100+) coz of problems with the piercing in the earlobe and for medical reasons... wasting money on a pair of diamond and gold earrings...imagine what a gold-hater like me had to go through, being unable to match my earrings with my dress:(
Not-so-pleasant
Several visits to the physician at Care clinic, diagnostic tests etc what with viral fever, swine flu, dengue all over the place
Seem to be on the verge of sleeping disorder because of my erratic sleeping habits to cope with my writing and office timelines
Kept postponing
Visit to L&M for eye check-up and new spects
Bravery or agony or endurance?
Underwent RCT for 3 teeth and one pending:)
Pleasant ones
Meeting Kavitha's kid Vaishnavi
Playing with Shreya's friends on her birthday and seeing her dress up as a fairy on the eve of Christmas
Maansi's surprise visit one morning in the month of May 
Shreya improves her sketching, she writes stories in English and attempts the same in Hindi
Maansi playing "air hostess" and offering us food and drinks while I was in Bangalore
Reading
Mostly work related- other than this, well nothing:(
In fact, my reading took a back seat because I concentrated more on my writing
Books and CDs
Books - none, CDs - some Hindi movies
Television
Convenience of ordering movies on Tatasky Showcase
Michael Jackson memorial service
50 years of Doordarshan - a documentary revisiting those serials, songs and sitcoms
Memorable
General and local elections - voted for the first time from my own house
My presentation at national e-learning event and the appreciation
Driving back home from office on my birthday in real heavy rain, late in the evening
Unable to get started with
My initiative on web based help and counselling for students to 'follow their heart'
Unfortunate
The Telangana turmoil and resultant impact on the lives of commoners in Hyderabad and other places in A.P

My city missing a beat again...too soon!

My city is where my heart is, this is where I belong, being born and brought up here. Past few days have been a testing time for the city dwellers gripped by the 'fear' of the unknown and uncertain. Today, I simply wasn't able to be normal self - somewhere there was a lurking apprehension and anxiety, "would I return home safely, will my colleagues who depend on private and public transport make it to office?" and so on... Something has gone wrong somewhere - will things get back to normal soon? My heart overpowering my mind, perhaps my dirve to office today was the most painful one, may remain in my memory for long, as a sad reminder of the day my city missed a beat. The frequent 'bandhs' seem to have paralysed the lives of millions of peace-loving people who have made Hyderabad their home.

The familiar scenes were missing - there wasn't a soul on the otherwise bustling Kirshna Nagar-Jubilee Hills road. Every little tea and tiffin stall is closed. I could empathize with people waiting perhaps for their breakfast at these outlets. People waiting at the bus stops with forlorn looks. People stranded in trains and buses at the outskirts of the city. People waiting to reach hospitals and people faced with emergencies. Vendors who depend on us to make their daily earning. It's the people - we the commoners who bear the brunt of agitations, bandhs, strikes and other similar violent manifestations of public ire. This time it's a region that wants to establish its identity - later it would be another region that wants to do the same and this may be followed by similar instances all over the country- a country that was divided on the basis of linguistic identities for better governance- how ironical! Apparently, this was not-so-flawed a strategy for retaining our regional identities yet understanding and tolerating other cultures and religions.

Scratch a little and it's all over the place - strong feelings of regionalism, casteism, communalism - when provoked come out with true colours-making no difference whatsoever in terms of education and culture. Even the most 'educated' get a pleasure in establishing so-called 'superiority' on the basis of religion, caste, region and other parochial priorities. North Indian? South Indian? From Telangana? From Andhra?From ...endless ways to establish our identities, where are the actual issues of economic and inclusive development? Why don't people explore avenues of cooperation and collaborative development? If these were the issues on the basis of which the 'struggle' was planned, there could have been other means of achieving the goal - perhaps with less agony and destruction to the lives of common and innocent people.I'm sure my city will soon get back to normal, one can destroy the physical assets and cause similar damage but one can't kill the soul of a city that's consituted by its sincere citizens who have toiled to make it what it is today!

All is well?

Perhaps not, hmm, certainly not...especially with our educational system, social pressure and rat race and all that. Was this the message Hirani was trying to convey in typical Munnabhai style? The message, though strongly intended, got entangled in those innumerous twists and turns and those overly exaggerated 'comic' scenes, like the one where Chatur makes a speech on Teachers' Day and the childbirth on a table tennis table.
Devoid of such farce, may be the movie could have been more honest and fresh in treating the same theme.

If Five Point Someone (the novel on which the movie is  based) is itself a pulpy version of the dark side of engineering education, the movie based on this novel, remotely addresses any issues raised, leave alone developing them, at least in 'Lage Raho Munnabhai' style. In bits and pieces the movie does make some points- student suicides, lack of recognition for innovation and creativity and parental pressure to outperform others etc. But the conviction with which these points could be been conveyed is missing, since there is so much of typical Bollywood mass-appeal kind of 'comedy' that the actual story is lost somewhere in between the witty one-liners that comment on our engineering education and the stereotypical depiction of schools and colleges in Bollywood movies.

3 Idiots can at best make you laugh and enjoy for the moment, if you can ignore the excesses, you will come out with a 'feel-good' that there is more to life than becoming an engineer or a doctor. Other than this short-lived feeling the movie lacks the sophistication and finesse that was evident in handling social comedies like previous Munnabhai flick. What gets proved again is the difficulty involved in conveying a message without being preachy and yet making it comic, likable and memorable- like two extremes - the Gowarikar type and the Hirani type. Or, the maturity with which Aamir himself handled a similar plot in Taare Zameen Par. How does one do a balancing act while handling series of connected themes like freedom of education, creativity in curriculum and following one's heart. No easy answers here!

Innocent, funny and...
Today's four-year-olds have much more at their disposal than any one of us in our childhood - no two thoughts about this! Mostly the wordly stuff they catch from TV - be it kids' programs, movies or daily soaps. I got to see how my little niece Maansi was playing a prank with her papa the other day when she was in Hyderabad. Vinod had just returned from office and they had an hour or so to leave for Bangalore, perhaps he got busy talking to all of us and Maansi felt she didn't get the attention she wanted. She quickly picked up the phone (intercom) and started dialling some numbers to "call the police" saying her papa is a "bad boy" and they should come and take him, perhaps thinking that bad boys are better handled by police.

She seemed to enjoy her imaginary call, and later started playing with the other phone as well. Shreya was watching her intently. We were having fun observing her 'seriously imaginary conversation' with the 'police'.

In the meantime, my landline phone rang and I picked it up wondering who it was. It was Sandip calling from his mobile from the other room, asking me to give the phone to Maansi. He pretended to be the police and wanted to have some fun. I handed the receiver to Maansi saying that the police is on the line. As soon as she picked up the phone, Maansi got the scare of her life...her innocent expression said it all and I asked her who it was. P-o-l-i-c-e!!! "Please don't take my papa away , he's a good boy" cried Maansi, suddenly her cherubic face turning literally scared. Little wonder, her teeny-weeny brain couldn't figure out that it was Sandip who was on phone.

I felt sad seeing her fun turn into something 'serious', she ran to and sat beside Krupa, tears rolling down her cheeks. Like several kids of her age, Maansi loves to watch TV,  I also heard that she likes detective serials like, 'CID' and seems to be clear about what needs to be done with 'bad boys':)

Latest from Shreya

Shreya has picked up words like "e-learning", "Design" and "Storyboard" :)) And she proudly says she knows the shortform for storyboard; I always write it as "stbd" and once she asked me what it means. Hats off to the observing power of little kids!
And she tells me I write only about these words and not stories like she does about "cheat jackal and clever rabbit".
P.S: I got to know that she learnt about storyboards in the school, here's one I saw her illustrating by reading the description.

Children's Day

Shreya and Maansi were out on some children's day shopping at City Center Mall. They participated in the painting competition at Max on the occasion of children's day. Sad, I missed seeing them perform live... Good that their masterpieces were captured on mobile phone by Krupa. Here they are:

Shreya

Maansi

My Invited Talk at ELELTECH 2009, organized by CDAC and JNTU Hyderabad

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My Invited Talk at ELELTECH 2009, organized by CDAC and JNTU Hyderabad

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31st October, 25 years ago...
It was my instant reaction to Mrs. Gandhi's assassination. My first write-up was published in the Deccan Chronicle, a couple of days after the tragic event. Mine must've been one of the hundreds of articles that were published all over the country, but to me it was important and memorable to see my writing in newsprint format. I still remember how some of my friends, family members and acquaintances encouraged me to pursue writing as a hobby. Not to mention that I've still preserved a copy of that day's edition, as with all the later write-ups. It feels good to go back and read it fondly remembering my teenage days.