Acting To Glory - The Vinay Pathak Way

Scene : Late Night. It’s raining profusely.

The protagonist of the movie is standing in front of a house drenched, waiting for the door to open. A female character opens the door from inside, comes out and is surprised to see the hero. The hero gestures her not to raise voice since others will be sleeping. He then through gestures conveys to her that her daughter is so cute and that her husband is very smart and that the house is a good place to live in. He exclaims and expresses the beauty of rains. Then he slows a bit. Takes a deep breath and goes on continuing his talk through gestures through which he conveys that he loves her and how deep it was rooted. The heroine, first perplexed, regains her sense and gets emotional and forwards to offer him a hug. The hero stops her and bid a goodbye. He raises his hands in happiness of the feat he made; to convey his love to his old flame of love.

The above said scene is from the movie ‘Dasvidaniya’. The male & female character is portrayed by Vinay Pathak & Neha Dhupia respectively.

Vinay Pathak, the lead actor in the movie is a theatre actor turned movie actor. As per Oscar Wilde theatre is one of the finest and greatest forms of art, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being. And Vinay is one who truly lives the quotation. From upgrading himself from theatre to main stream motion movie he had given his talent a wide exposure. This is one actor with whom we can relate instantly and never get bored off.

Vinay had hosted a show in Star TV with his friend and co-actor Ranvir Shorey called ‘Ranvir, Vinay Aur Kaun?’ He profiled another feet too when he hosted a show on ESPN called ‘Nokia Football Crazy’ during the World Cup in Germany. Below are few brief reviews of his acting skills in some of the well acclaimed movies; bet not to miss ever if you are a complete movie freak. List is just put chronologically.

Jism (2003)

In this third movie of his he portraits a character called DCP Siddarth. Though his character doesn’t have a much wide scope for his talent, the role was something to watch out. The concern of a human whose friend is in trouble is very well portrayed by Vinay.

Khosla Ka Ghosla (2006)

Asif Iqbal, the character he plays in this movie is a visa agent. With acting stalwarts like Anupam Kher & Boman Irani stealing the show, Vinay makes it sure that he embarks a notable performance in this flick. The story which is revolving around a plot of real estate fraud deal, its Vinay’s character’s crooked idea that helps the script stay above everything. And no prize for guessing, he had enacted the character so well.

Bheja Fry (2007)

Taxman and aspiring singer Bharat Bhushan is the main reason which makes us sit in front of the screen when the movie is running. Playing a mediocre idiot guy who is being pranked by a rich socialite, Vinay hits the humour nerves of the audience throughout the movie. How fool a man can be and how he can turn around the situations from bad to worse is amazingly portrayed by this guy.

Johnny Gaddar (2007)

Greed, an emotion difficult to portrayed is being easily handled by Vinay in this movie. The character Prakash in this movie can be anytime rated as one of his best performance till date. Though famed as comedian, Vinay gets morphed into a club proprietor with dark shades. Nobody could have pulled out this character this best, if it was not Vinay.

Dasvidaniya (2008)

A movie in which Vinay Pathak entertains you through a character Amar Kaul, an accounts manager who realizes he is left with only three months of life before succumbing to stomach cancer. A perfect to-do-list following person, Vinay’s character lists down his final notes. Scenes of him with Saritha Joshi playing his mother, Neha Dhupai playing his childhood love, Rajat Kapoor playing his best friend were simply done superb. Though a sad ending, his acting leaves us realize the importance of life and reminds us to pursue things which we really want to. A must-watch performance enacted brilliantly.

Few other flicks of his worth watching

Manoram Six Feet Under

Buddha Mar Gaya

Say Salaam India

Mixed Doubles

Somebody said it right : ‘Life is like a play; its not the length but the excellence of the acting that matters. Vinay Pathak truly prove this statement. I am sure, his best is yet to come.

Written For India Special

Unplanned Trip...

His mother was throbbing her chest heavily. Her voiced cracked while conversed on phone. After the first call she dialed his father’s number, then someone and then someone else and he could feel her voice very dampened. He didn’t understand anything but realized there was something to worry. He tried to prod his mother to tell what happened but all in vain. Maybe a six year old is not supposed to know that.

In half an hours time his father reached back at home. He had never seen him so early from office other than for his birthdays. By the time his mother had wrapped herself in some old Sari of hers. There were no traits of make ups on her face this time and he wondered how the hell in such a less time she got ready to go out. He don’t remember even one instance where his father hadn’t had waited for his mother to get ready for an outing.

“What about me. I am also coming.” He tried to get in with their plan. His mother looked at him helplessly; her eyes read and teary and her nose leaking a bit. The kerchief she used was almost wet and she started to use the tip of her saree too.

“No you are not coming. Play with your grandfather and grandmother”, his father quipped. Following that, came a pat of grandmother which irritated him. He loves to be with his old grandfather who got his white mustache polished everyday, every minute: but not today. He wanted to be with his mother. But what a six year old child can do. ‘This world is that of elders’ he thought.

After some five hours they came back. He asked where they had gone. Mom didn’t say much. She went to the bathroom. Her face was swelled upon. Again, this is the first time that his mother didn’t plant a kiss after coming back from an outing. He felt bad for his cheeks. He looked up to his father. He was there talking to the elders in a very hushed voice. He remembers his father doing talks in a hushed voice whenever he wanted to give any surprise to anyone; and always it flopped big time. A smile creaked for a second and he got a feeling there is some surprise in store.

“What happened, Papa?” He went near to his father and tried to stand on his feet. He always loves doing that. His father got long legs and it is always a fun to stand on his feet cuddling his legs. He could feel his father’s long fingers passing through his silky hair. He looked up his father’s face.

“My Superman”, his father started, “your sister Priya went for a trip. She didn’t even tell anyone of us. We don’t know why she went but now you won’t have her around you to play with. She won’t be there to play ‘hide and seek’ or ‘snake ladder’ and sing rhymes to you.

She was his best sister, his maternal aunt’s daughter. Long hair, wide smile, soft cheeks, magical fingers, lengthy skirts, golden nose ring, red bangles on her both hands; he used to love her presence. She used to make him sleep in peace at nights whenever she was here. But those things won’t be there anymore. That is what his father says to him. “But why?” he asked again and again. “She might be angry with us or may be she don’t love us.” By saying that, his father got up and headed to the bedroom.

He sat there only. Where would have she gone? With whom she might have gone? Why she hadn't told anyone before going? When is she going to return back? Or where should we go to meet her again?

-->And what is this ‘suicide’ thing which he overheard his father saying to his grand father? He stood there thinking.

Kite Runner - A Review

Kite Runner, is a novel released in 2003, topped the best seller’s list in the year 2005 in USA. Khaled Hosseini, author of the book is an Afghan by birth. He is now settled in America with their citizenship; had authored one more book to his credit.

The prose is done in an astounding way and the emotions of each character, drawn perfectly.

The book starts with and older Amir going back to his memories in Kabul where he had grown up till the age of 12. Amir, a Pashtun considered being an upper class, lives in a society who got a privileged life under the shadows of his iconic father and a posh livelihood. His only companion is Hassan, a Hazara servant, an outcast those times. The relationship between the two kids is portrayed best in the first half. Amir was never ready to accept Hassan as his best friend, but they always sticked together in whatever they did.

Innocence of children and their thoughts are streamlined amazingly in the pomegranate tree expeditions to Amir’s read-out sessions of classic books for Hassan to the kite running competition. But jealousy in Amir result in some sour incidents which leads Hassan and his father to leave the house and this is before he with his father become a part of the exodus of natives to America escaping the Soviet attack on Afghanistan.

Second half deals with Amir’s life in America depicting the immigrant’s hardships and emotions, his blooming romance, his fathers surrender to a tumour, his guilt ruling him of betraying his friend Hassan and the search for Hassan’s son back in Kabul.  

In short the book is weaved on the relationships of a father and his son – Amir and his father, a master and his servent – Amir and Hassan, two good friends – Amir’s father and Rahim Khan, a silent romantic relationship between Amir and Soraya. There are some surprises too in store.

The book definitely highlights the sufferings and tragedies of a nation after a war and internal conflicts in a heart wrenching manner. The plight of orphaned children and woman are portrayed well in this write up. Well, towards the ending at one point when we feel that things are getting settled with Amir, immigration problems comes as a monster which make the reader too feel an uneasiness as it did with Amir. Thoughts go wild with the reader as it did with Amir. This is where the author succeeded. He could very well relate his protagonist with the reader; same with other characters like Ali, Rahim Khan and Soraya – Amir’s wife.

A definite read, the book is brought by Riverhead Trade in a paper back mode with 384 pages to gorge on. On a 10 star rating meter, Kite Runner, definitely deserves a 8 rating. Go, Get it.

.....

Post written for India Special

Shouted Aloud... :)

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“Beep Beep”

The mobile screamed continuously. He tried to avoid the voice, no noise. But every three four minutes his mobile was crying for attention.

It was a very day yesterday for him. Long hours of grueling meetings and talks with clients had actually made him exhausted. And after coming home also he had to work till the wee hours of the day. For the first time he felt a day is made of 50 hours. Every minute he was longing for a relaxation from the schedules, hit the bed and sleep to glory. And finally when he did sleep at 6 am he had decided not to get up from the bed, the whole day.

Half asleep his hand searched for the mobile. Grasping it, he pulled back his hands under the comforts of the blanket. Laziness was at the heights. He didn’t feel like opening his eyes. He just clasped his hands lay over here. It was then when the mobile cried again. Fuming anger and frustration made him grip the mobile tighter. It was a Herculean task to open his eyes. That is when he realized there is nothing more heavily than them. He checked the mobile screen where an alert was waiting for him reading “23 messages unread: Read now?”

What the Fuck? 23 messages! What the hell happened to all? He slowly lay on his back. Adjusted his pillows to give his head a support; Surfed through the messages. Some read

Now what to do? Will have to reply everyone, 23 replies? Will type one single message and send it to many at a go. Hah! Thanks to all those technological advances Nokia is bringing, he thought.

He got up from his bed and headed to the bathroom. In three minutes he came out with a toothbrush in his mouth. The foam of the paste was slowly finding ways outside his mouth. He switched on his laptop lying down on the bed. He was expecting an important mail from one of his customer with whom he is trying to expand his business. 115 mails in the inbox! He was just shocked. It was just some 6 hours back he had cleared his entire inbox. 12 hours and 115 mails and that too on a holiday! Freak! He searched for the customer’s mail. It was somewhere lost in the heap of ‘deewali greetings’ messages. He got up and went on to the terrace.

The whole city was decorated with lighting..!! He checked his watch. It was almost 7 pm in the evening. One deewali is almost over. He looked at the skies. Even the Gods were celebrating it seems; Clear sky with streaks of long thin clouds. All were glittering reddish, as if retired-for-the-day Sun had illuminated them. Lots of birds were flying here and there and lots of crackers too illuminated the sky. He felt relaxed.

Each and every street was illuminated. Flashy dancing lights were on their best. Only smiles and happiness floated in the air.

He stood there. Something started flashing in front of eyes. 23 Messages…115 Mails… Oh No! I need to reply to them, he thought. The day is getting to over and I can’t give an excuse of work and sleep to these people who cared to message or mail on this occasion. But, How? He was clueless. He wished there will be some technology by which he can just shout the greetings and it will be delivered to everyone he loves and cares about. Just some satellite connectivity which will capture his words and safely deliver to his dear ones.

He smiled at himself for his weird thoughts. He turned back to get the laptop. Just for a moment he felt his legs not allowing getting back. He stopped trying and then came to the edge of balcony. With all his energy, with all his care, with all his love and with all his power he screamed aloud

HAPPY DEEWALI DEAR FAMILY ! !

HAPPY DEEWALI DEAR FRIENDS ! !

His blood veins had almost popped out from his neck. His face turned blood red. His eyes sparkled. He looked around. A small smile bloomed over his face. He looked into the vast sky imagining some satellite capturing his waves and delivering it to his dear one!!

He again shouted

HAPPY DEEWALI TO ALL..!!!!

The sound waves echoed throughout..!

Doctor.com

“Check the site doctornet.uk.com”, a rough voice bounced over him.

Abhinav turned back. It was his project manager Batra. A stout person, he was just behind him holding a coffee mug in one hand and a burger in the other. Without wasting an iota of time he closed all messenger windows which were open on his desktop. The social network sites were minimized.

Calling back what his boss had asked him to do; he clicked on the Mozilla explorer, the new downloaded web browser. He was happier to operate with that than the old fashioned Internet Explorer. He typed in the title bar and checked for the site.

“Abhinav, I want you to open Doctor.com” Batra sounded impatient.

Abhinav stared at the monitor. He read what he had written. ‘docter.com’. One thing was confirmed. There is some mistake in what he had written. What the fuck? Now how this hell word spells? His fingers moved through the keyboards aimless. He recalled the day when his English teacher scolded him for making mistake in the spelling of ‘Friend’. He forgot to add ‘i’ into the word. His word ‘Frend’ also was sounding the same. He forced himself to think harder. Is it an ‘e’ or an ‘a’ in the word my project manager want? He asked himself.

Abhinav, don’t waste time. Just check it out –DOCTOR.com. This time Batra stressed more on the word.

24 years of age. Right from Kindergarten I am having problem with letters. I never understand where to use vowels. He completed high schooling facing all taunts from teachers. Engineering was completed with high flying colours but still he realized he was many a times a laughing stock due to this problem of his.

With all guts, he once again wrote ‘Doctar.com’. ‘Oh my beloved God, help me out from this situation. Please evolve in front of me as the alphabet which should be actually befitted into the word after‘t’ and before ‘r’, he prayed. Sweat drops emerged on his face from all the pores.

20 years of repeated conscious efforts to improve this problem of his had created a kind of I-Hell-Give-A-Damn attitude towards this. Though initially he always used to feel embarrassed for his silly mistakes, in a later stage he covered all those with his academic performances. He cleared his 12th exams scoring high marks, joined engineering and finally completed masters in business management.

“Abinav, what’s happening? What the hell are you typing? Are you on grass? It is D-O-C-T-O-R.com what I want.” Batra sounded much psyched out. He spelled each alphabet separately and his voice echoed the whole cubicle. Abhinav didn’t feel like looking at others. ‘What will be others thinking about him? An MBA graduate who don’t know the spelling of a very common word. A word, which we start hearing from the age memories are imprinted in our brain.’ He felt like diving deep into some ocean or just running fast to some thick dense forest.

Abhinav typed on the screen, ‘doctor.com’, this time perfectly as dictated by his mentor. Some web page got opened. Batra came forward and checked the site. Clicked here and there, and made his way back to his cabin. Abhinav sat there aghast with a hangdog expression. Some of his colleagues came to him.

One of them kept patting him behind. Abhinav got up from his chair. “Yeah, I do have some problem with vowels. I always make mistakes when words with vowels are written. Now what the fuck I can do about it? I am facing this very bloody problem from the bloody start of my life, from the time I got memories, from the time when I know what bloody fucking thing a language is. Yeah I got some confusion with few letters in my mother tongue and with English too. I tried my best to change that problem, but the bloody hell it hounds me like a dick head, many a times putting me in an awkward position. Now why the hell you people are behind me. Just for another mother fucking laughing stock” Abhinav sat back on his chair. He took the pen in his hand and started twirling in between his fingers.

Everyone surrounding him sat silent.

“Hey, chill man. That’s not a unique problem. We all know you are the best. Its just a small imperfection.” Sidharth, his friend, murmered.

It was a total silence in the cubicle.

Life...

The moment the flight landed he couldn’t wait for the door to open. He had already unfastened his seat belt and impatiently waited on the aisle. The beautiful air hostesses were waiting for the door to open. The red skirted girls were looking beautiful if not ‘HOT’, he thought. While he waited there impatiently the door opened and he rushed towards it. Stepping down the stairs he sensed the smell of his motherland.

While waiting for the luggage he threw his eyes towards the gate. After a round of gaze, much to his delight he found his sweetheart, his better-half waiting over there, outside the glass walls. When their eyes met each other he could feel an upheaval of joy beaming out from his body.

He got into the Mercedes that was waiting outside for them. The driver helped him load his luggage back into the dickey. “What happened to the new BMW? He asked. “Your sister had gone to meet her friend in that, sir” the driver said politely. Settling on the back seat with his lady, he felt very relaxed. Holding her hands, sitting very close to her he dabbed his lips on her smooth cheeks. The touch itself had made her cheeks turn rosy.

In front of the huge iron gates they waited. As the security guard opened the gate, the Merc moved in. Along side the garden the vehicle headed towards the palatial white bungalow. When the vehicle reached the parking space two servants came running towards the car. The doors were opened for them. Both of them got down from the car and headed towards house. “Keep the luggage in my room” he ordered them.

Entering the colossal living room, he saw his father watching something on the television. Heading towards his change room, he asked for something to eat and drink. He was very hungry. He entered his dress change room and removed his blazer. The temperature here is getting worse year by year, he thought. Switching on the a/c he untied the tie, unbuttoned the shirt and unhooked the belt. He entered the adjacent bathroom, had a shower and came out in a silky towel. Drops of water were still on his body. There she was waiting for him. “The food is ready”. He went near to her and held her close. “You are wet.” She removed his towel and tried to dry his body. “I will make you too wet, don’t you want?” he giggled. Blushing, she threw the towel on him and headed towards the door. “Come dressed up, I will be waiting for you near the table, your food is ready”, she smiled coyly. He opened the cupboard, got a night dress out from many. This one was the one he had picked up from London, in his last business trip.

The table was full of dishes. Right from his favourite chicken items to fish items and even mutton. The vegetarian dishes also were there but he didn’t check which all were there. A bottled of chilled champagne also was there. His mother came down and sat besides him. He planted a kiss on her cheeks. Her face was gleaming with happiness. After the food he headed back towards the living room. His father was watching some movie in which South Indian superstar Mohanlal was acting his guts out with comedy. Greeting his father he settled in his two lakh worth cushion. “How is the system” he asked. His father gestured with his hands which meant ‘Superb’. He sat there content. Paying seven lakhs for the home theatre system including the plazma television didn’t go waste.

Bidding a good night to his dad he went to his bedroom. He reached near the bed, the one he had specially imported from Italy. He jumped on to that bed and slipped into the blanket. She was taking a bath inside the bathroom. He switched on his music sytem which he had brought from New York splurging more than 12000 $. Jim Morrison was playing in the player. In some time she came out. He stared at her. After a shower she always looked more stunning. He got from the bed and took steps towards her.

“Trrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggg”

He banged the alarm and made it stop crying. Opened his eyes. He didn’t get out from the blanket. Lying down on his back he stared the ceiling. The plaster of the roof had cracks running down in a particular pattern. The old ‘Orient’ fan was doing its job with a buzzing sound as if it was tired running the whole night.

He removed the blanket; sat on the bed. His lips nurtured a smile. He stared the banyan tree which was visible outside his almost dilapidated house through the windows which bore broken glasses. He got up from his bed, which made squeaking voices and was shaking.

“What a wonderful dream” he thought and headed towards bathroom in his boxers.

“Shit”, he fussed. The geyser needs a repair. The water was so chilled which can bring anyone back to full senses.

Changed Strategy...

It’s always like this. He had never reached the railway station without all those last minutes hurry ups. When he reached the station the announcements were echoing all over the platform. He checked the list and hurried to the second platform. The train was there ready to leave. It looked like a big python.

Before entering his coach he checked the reservation list which was hanging outside the door. He was delighted to see his name, Anup Tiwari. He looked all around as if his name was there in some national newspaper only to realise that no body was bothered. Laughing at himself, he took his baggage and jumped inside the coach. Suddenly, something pulled him back. He checked the list once again, who all are going to come in his cabin.

Seat Name Age Gender From To
S8-37 Ram Prakash 54 M LTT KKDI
S8-38 Jagadamba Kadam 48 F LTT KKDI
S8-39 Archana Sahoo 34 F LTT RHA
S8-40 Meera Shah 22 F PNVL TCR
S8-41 Rajesh P 37 M RTGI ERS
S8-42 Jagdeesh Pujari 39 M RTGI ERS
S8-43 Anup Tiwari 24 M LTT MDGN
S8-44 Mangal Sahoo 37 M LTT RHA

His eyes then got stuck on one name, Meera, his eyes glinted happiness. But the boarding was after two stations.

He reached his birth, a side lower birth. He kept his baggage beneath the seat and settled. His eyes scanned all the passengers in that cabin. Next to him there was a man with a thick moustache, maybe in his mid thirties. ‘How boring it will be to travel 1500 kilometres with this guy’, he thought. An old man was reading a magazine, oblivion to the world outside the train in the platform. The lady who was sitting beside him was looking much younger though, enough to be his daughter or daughter in law. Anup stared at her; she was stacking their baggage here and there. Twelve baggages, he counted. There was a not-so-bad-looking female sitting by the window seat. Wearing a big round bindi on her forehead, she seemed to have befriended solitude for this trip, if not for life long.

He sighed! This trip is going to be boring unless berth number 40 hosts a smart girl. ‘Meera Shah, sounds Gujarati!’ He thought. More than her name it was her age that excited him. Only two year younger to him, he imagined her like a mirage. Various prospective faces of Meera flashed through his mind, together with thoughts involving how to impress her to gain her friendship and flirt with her till destination.

The train started its journey with all its passengers. The sleeper class he was in was almost full. Tea and coffee vendors went here and there shouting their product, serving and collecting money.

“Do you mind to exchange your seat with my wife’s ticket? It’s a window seat.” The husky voice from the moustached man interrupted his imaginations about his yet-to-be-befriended friend Meera. “Yeah, no issues”, the answer was quick since this time his brain worked faster than a supercomputer. The tough, rough moustached person was giving an offer to sit near berth number 40, Meera’s seat. He wanted to jump with joy. Recalling the award for the best actor in his school days, he made a so-so face in front of him. He exchanged the seat and watched the couple sitting together in the side berth. “Happy for you, I will somehow manage over here’ was the expression on his face. He only knows there was huge crackling joy bursting inside him.

When the train slowed down at panvel he took a position nearby the door. Each passenger entering and exiting were under his eagle eyes but no one cleared the criteria of a 22 year old beautiful lady with all those womanly features to the perfect as he had imagined. Suddenly a face caught his attention. Wheat colour face, black, straight and silky hair, she wore a beautiful smile. Her eyes were green which excited him and her lips were rose in colour, wide and full! The ear brows were perfectly shaped and the nose ring adorned her totally. Wearing jeans with a pearl white shirt, she was nothing less than a movie actress. She was far above from what he imagined. ‘The entire trip is going to rock!’ he thought. Flirting which is his forte is going to be the main weapon.

That is when he saw something odd; something he missed because of his excitement. A kid, maybe in his second year after birth, trying to tug at his mothers arm. Before the train started moving she raised the kid and placed him on her hips. Both waved to those who came to see off them. After few seconds she took her luggage and headed inside to settle in her berth.

Anup stood there standstill.
“Strategies should be changed” he thought with a grin.

Am Sorry...

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He kept his mobile aside. Every one minute he passed a glance over it. Confirmed there was no call missed. He was feeling restless. He turned here and there on the bed. He closed his eyes and covered his head down below the pillow. The noise of fan was piercing his ears. He tightened the grip of pillow over himself. He twined his legs. Two minutes past that he threw the pillow towards the door. Got up from the bed and got hold of the cigarette packet. He lit one fag in a jiffy. Smoke tunneled from him like from a steam engine. He verified the mobile once again. The wrinkles on his face were showing the frustration. He went to the bathroom to get a leak. A drop or two; There was nothing more to come. Flushed the toilet and came back to the room, slamming the door.

He took his mobile in hand, dialed the short dial number. He saw screen showing her name. It read ‘Calling Babez’, it read. Before getting connected he canceled the call. A deep sigh came out from him. He kept the mobile back, crawled back into the bed. He tried to close his eyes tight. Few minutes went by. He got up back and looked at the mobile. It was lying there silent, unmoved, as if this was not the first time all these are happening. He felt each second passing like decades.

Two minutes. The mobile started ringing. He grabbed it quickly and checked the name. It was her only. He kept it back. The rings went on and then dead. The screen showed ‘1 Missed Call’. He stared at the mobile. It again started ringing. One ring, second ring, third, fourth and so on. Before it got dead he jumped and got the mobile, his fingers pressed the button. The call was on.

“I am sorry”, a sweet trembled voice filled with grief whispered.

A moment of pause.

“No, I am sorry” He said.

Another moment of silence, but this was a sweet one.

Both smiled, burgeoning to laughter.

It take only few words to melt down the tension resulted from a fracas.

Tag

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-->Tag is something i never had tried. This time i am tagged by two friends of mine in this blog-o-sphere, D and Chakoli. I started this blog only to publish my creations. I thought, through that i can reach to more people. So initially tags were never in my agenda. Now also i am not that comfortable with this 'tag' thing. Anyways i cant disrespect my friends and i dont have a story to tell. So here i am with a tag...

This tag is named love tag..!!

RULE #1 : People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.
RULE #2 : Tag 6 people to do this quiz and they cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.

1. If your lover betrayed you, what will be your first thought?
What made her betray me…Its impossible..!!

2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?
That my all dreams actually come true, one by one..!!

3. What is the one thing most hated by you?
Avoidance

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
Build a business which can create another 100 billionaires.

5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?
I did.

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Being loved by someone…I Am blessed..!!

7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?
Anytime, until and unless she says she won’t be ever coming back.

8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Just will keep watching and will like her more for what she is….

9. If you like to act with someone, who will it be? Your gf/bf or an actress/actor?
My girlfriend. .in some beautiful locale with a minimum of five romantic songs..!!

I don’t mind if that movie goes flop also..!!

10. What takes you down the fastest?
Terrorism

11. How would you see yourself in ten years time?

An entrepreneur.

12. Whats your fear?

Practically nothing..!!

13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
D: Sensible Woman

Chakoli: Funny And Extrovert & interesting.

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married but poor?
I don’t have my option in the list. Out of the given, maybe single and rich.

15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Blame my alarm… And then check out for newspaper..!!

16. Would you give all in a relationship?
Confusing question…Depends on the relationship with whom..!!

17. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
The one who loves me back…

18. Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done?
Definitely… I had done many a times..!!

19. If you get to go back in time and fall in love all over again , would it still be with the same person?
What if the numbers of persons are in plural?

Jokes apart, definitely..

20. List 6 people to tag
Anyone who got nothing to post creative…And Anyone who finds this tag interesting..!!

Bird Watching...

Rehman and Sameer looked here and there. Darkness was creeping in slowly which forces daylight to take a leave. The atmosphere was getting dank. Street lights checked on to do their daily shift. People were busy shopping, enjoying the eateries from the road side stalls, taking evening walks, chit-chatting, and couples getting lucky over the corners of the plaza. Their faces read boredom. It’s been two hours since they were ‘bird-watching’ over here at this pastry joint.

Milind’s Pastry Joint.
Rehman lit the last cigarette out from the packet. Taking a deep puff he stared at Sameer. Sameer was blank, out of thoughts; his eyes were kind off drooping. When Sameer too took the packet Rehman offered his cigarette, “It’s empty. We will share this one.” Sharing a cigarette cements the bond, it is an unwritten myth among the smokers. While Sameer took a puff Rehman was releasing fumes in circles from his mouth. He looked like those industrial funnels spitting dark smokes.Just after the fag was over Sameer got up. He adjusted his low waist jeans. Stretched his body wide and gestured Rehman to make a move. Rehman was passive, indecisive. “Let’s go for a round of two-three pegs. Atleast the music over there will be rejuvenating us.” Sameer said. His dialogue bespeaks his intention not to go home before midnight. Rehman showed his empty wallet and tried to pass a wet smile. “I got some, don’t worry” Sameer resorted. Both love spending time gadding about the busy streets in the city.

“Wait buddy, two babes are strolling towards us. Let’s just sit over here only. After the cross us we will take a leave.”

"Oh, cut it dude. Lets have some coffee at least from the ‘Naidu’s Corner’. Sameer said in a miffed tone. He just looked towards the direction Rehman pointed. Two dames were coming from there. He looked twice and then he turned towards Rehman and said, “Man, that’s Sanjana.”“Shit! Boss, it’s Sanjana. Oh Holy shit”

Sameer just smiled at him. His face blanched. The smile he tried to put across his face was faltered. He moved his arse and got up restless. Sameer understood Rehman trying to avoid an eye contact. His fluttering eyes were covered with shame.

Laughter flooded from Sameer seeing him in such a goofed up situation. He just threw the cigarette butt down and crunched under his shoes. Those girls were nearing them.

“I am sorry man. I made a blunder” his voice was confused and humiliated.

Sameer smiled at him, patted on his shoulders and said, “No issues buddy. It is just that you didn’t realize my sister is coming along with her friend. You can definitely check on her friend.”

“No man. Today’s quota is over. Don’t embarrass me more. Let’s leave” he had already headed towards the car. Sameer followed him, with a smile on his face.

Weekly Horoscope...

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8.00 AM

The whistle of the pressure cooker cried aloud. Susheela was sweeping the floor in the front room. Its only the first whistle, she thought. The phenol smell was punching her nose. Manoj sat there reading newspaper. Dressed in his company uniform this is his routine before the company bus comes to pick him up. He was a man in his early fifties. His face was showing his ageing process through some wrinkles here and there. Some grey hairs had already found its place among the others. When Asha and Anusha teased him of getting old he would quip that’s the premonition of something good that is going to happen. He then always used to narrate the anecdote of his grandmother stating that when luck is on your way, it is notified in the form of grey hairs on head. But he was not sure whether she had referred about any bald head like the one he is sporting.

The third whistle blew loudly and this time very fiercely. Leaving the sweeping mat in the floor itself Susheela ran towards the kitchen. Wiping her dirty hands in the Saree, she got the stove off. “Manu, I want an exhaust fan over here”, she said in a loud voice, “it’s very hot over here in kitchen. You won’t understand the difficulty.” There was no reply from the living hall. “Only we woman knows what it is like to be in a kitchen in a boiling temperature. You guys only need to move your ass from the comfortable sofa to the cushioned seat near the dining table. There will be everything on the table ready to be served.” She said to herself in a husky voice.

“Don’t worry better half. Did you read the horoscope for this week? It reads a great week coming for me. TAURUS: You will have a wonderful week. You will be rewarded both professionally and personally. Your long pending promotion will be awaiting you. New purchases for household are on cards. Monetary problems will be resolved and your love life will be exciting.” He passed a loud laughter after reading out his horoscope. It was for the week September 13 to September 20. “Lady, Its a rewarding week for me this time.”

Susheela came back to the living room. Not much impressed with his excitement she continued to sweep the tiled floor. “Now what do you mean by excited love life. Two grown up daughters, couple years before retirement, sloping down health; I think there are many more things to get excited.” The pace of sweeping increased gradually wiping of the whole dirt the precious day had left when gone.

Manoj got up from the sofa. He kept the newspaper folded on the glass teapoy and came near to Susheela. “Age is not a barrier for these things, wife”, he hushed in her ears. She blush a little. She always does when he calls her ‘wife’. “Oh shut up, kids are there in the other room. You don’t know when to get romantic and where.” She took the bucket and headed towards the bathroom. Aasha came out from her bedroom and gave a hug to her father. “Where is Anusha” he enquired. “She is in the bathroom having her hour long bathe.” Planting a kiss on his cheek she switched on the television.

“Susheela, I am leaving; surprises waiting for you in the evening.” He took his bag and left the flat. “This man will never change” Susheela thought. A small smile bloomed on her face A coy smile.

6.30 PM

Hours later she was surfing the television. Jumping from channel to channel ‘Aaj Tak’ caught her attention. Breaking News. She stopped by. For Aaj Tak and India TV there will be something breaking news all the time, she thought. Reading the news she got enraged. ‘What will be this nation’s state if such devils try to break the peace now and then’ she thought. The count was increasing showing the monstrous face of the blasts that rocked in five spots in the city.

She took the mobile to give Manoj a call. That is when she realized why didn’t he call after the blasts? Maybe he might not be aware of it, she thought. She dialled the number. The whole network was jammed. She went near to the landline and dialled her husband. Ring went but, no one responded. He will be in bus and the mobile in vibrating mode, she thought. “This happens most of the times. I don’t understand why he need to keep in vibrating mode”, she said to herself. She redialled the number. Did he go to buy the exhaust fan? Did he plan some surprises buying goodies this week? Her thoughts started going wild. Her face started to reflect the panic which was growing in her mind. She dialled the number again and again.

Nobody answered the call, ever.

Tea At Cafe Coffee Day...

He sat there with her. Mayank was a bit nervous. It is his first date ever. He read out the board in front of the brand name, ‘A lot things can happen over a coffee’. Coming to this coffee shop was a fantasy earlier and here he can see it turn real. He had often dreamt of getting her over here for a coffee. Whenever he used to pass the café he had peeped in through the glass walls of the shop. And when he started getting close to her, he had decided that this coffee shop will be the place for their first date.

Entering the shop holding her hands was a new experience for him. The air cooler breeze fell on his skin. He looked the whole area. There was a couple coochy-cooing on the corner table, a group of five guys sipping coffee discussing cricket, a group of two girls and guys lavishing over their orders in the sofa set and even an elderly couple sitting very calm and holding each others hands.

He led her upstairs. It was totally a new world. He felt he came into another world. The aroma that was lingering through out was amazing. The ambience was very modern and the music that played was western. Though everything was new to him, he was enjoying it. The waiters guided them onto a table meant for two. He was impressed. ‘They do take care of customers intentions too.’

He pulled out one of the chair for her. He has read somewhere that it’s the way how a gentleman behaves when he is accompanying a lady. He wanted to emulate those English traditions. He was mesmerised with her talks. Her smile rejuvenated him from all his worries.

“Good evening, what would be your order, Sir?” The waiter asked.

“One tea and a hot coffee”, he blurted without looking the waiter. The waiter looked at him puzzled. Sensing something wrong he stared back at the waiter. He wanted to ask him, “Did I order something in German?” He couldn’t make up what was wrong.

“Sir, we don’t serve tea. You can have a look in this menu card and order something else”, the waiter placed the menu card on the table in front of him. ‘What, you don’t serve tea over here?’ He looked sheepish. While opening the menu card his glance went to her. Was she trying to hide a laugh? He camouflaged the situation saying, “its a stupid decision of theirs not to serve tea over here. They are loosing a huge chunk of business”. This time he didn’t even dare to look at her face.

He opened the menu only to realise that some more difficulties are on his way. There were lots of names on the menu. Tensed, he asked for a hot coffee instead of tea. This time the waiter sounded impatient.

“Sir, which hot coffee you prefer. Please select it from the menu card.” This time he felt the waiter was arrogant. His ignorance is highlighted. Heartbeats drummed with a great pace. Now who the hell found various tastes for hot coffees? This is the wrong place to come on a first date, he thought. He checked the menu card in detail. Expresso’s, cappaccino’s, mocchachillo’s irish coffees, and many more. Hell he know there were so many varieties. He never knew coffees got so many varities.


“Just excuse us for a minute more”, Anita intervened. He thanked God. Anita is a real angel for the moment. Giving him a stare the waiter moved on to the next table. She took the menu card from him. The whole world seemed to be stopped in front of him. Sweat drops found its way out of him. He worried what she will think about his ignorance. Will she find him not modern, not enough to know the show buzz things of the modern life? Will she find him not competent enough to carry himself off in such public places?

The air conditioner was doing its duty. But he sat there sweating. She sipped the coffee and smiled at him. His face blanched at her smile, and then is when she said, “You are so cute”. He felt like rains all over the place. Chilled and drenching. The whole world seemed to sing song for them.

But still he thought, why the hell so many varieties of coffees?

Destop Story...

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This post was conceived after two of my mates in this blog-o-sphere, Phoenix and Chriz had tagged me. The tag asked me to post my desktop and to write a story on it. So here goes; this is how my desktop looks like and below the picture is a story inspired from that.(You can click on the image to get a better view of the snap)

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-->He stood there. Life seems to have taken sudden brake. No idea where to head. Life seemed to be stuck up somewhere. It was a cul-de-sac. Whatever he had thought off seemed to back fire on him.

It was in his native place. He still remembered that day fresh. The weather can’t be demanded to be better. The river was flowing aimlessly. The cuckoo birds were chirping sitting on the branches of the big mango tree that was standing tall along the banks of the river. Fresh smell of earth was still lingering over there after the previous day’s rains. Tiny drops on every leaf, ready to drip down, waited a gentle breeze to dab them.

He was frustrated. He was in a state of despair not knowing where the life was leading him to. Everyone he knew was doing well in their life. He felt it was only him who was hit by tragedies and set backs; professionally and personally. Lots of options dangled in front of him. But he was not able to decide what he wanted. He sat on the concrete steps of the river bank. That was the place he always opted for when he wanted to find peace. The serenity of the river always had helped him find his solace. He sat there resting his head on his folded legs and his hands covered his face.

"The river flows without any aim. You need not give them any directions. They will find on their own. They won’t get intimidated with any obstacles coming in their way. Be it an island, rocks or whatever; ultimately they will reach their destination. That is just because their vision is clear; to merge with the mighty ocean. When vision is clear no matter what, even if you need to fiddle with lots of complications and difficulties, you reach your destination."

He looked behind. He eyes preyed for the source of voice. He looked towards the river. There was a figure clad in white long robes. He was not able to identify whether it was a man or woman. He closed and opened his eyes. The figure was still over there. The voice came out from that figure. He tried to identify, but all his efforts in vein.

“Vision, son, have a vision for life. No matter what, you will find your destination”

After the statement the figure passed a smile and evaporated into the space.

He pinched himself, only to realize he was still alive. He got up from there. His mind was like a calm ocean after a high tide.

Before leaving he just stared back at the river. It was still flowing, towards its destination; with a vision.

PS: I am not tagging anyone in particular, but those who are already on my blogroll can accept it and go with their own 'Desktop Story'. It will be a pleasure to read all of them....!! :)