Kismat ki Phooti Connection

Q. Why would you watch Kismat Konnection?

A. It could be because

a. You go to watch some other movie to the theatre and bloody hell...it is houseful.

b. You are not in a mood to return home and so think "what the heck..lets try this out"

c. You Kismat has made some bad Konnection (what is with the 'K' sentiment) due to which your next few hours are going to be short circuited.

d. All the above

If this were KBC and if I was to lock option D, I could have won some decent money. Alas....my luck just stays with me to write reviews. I don’t know if you observed, but I hardly write reviews for any bad movie, unless I force myself to see one and write one as well for funs sake(ex. Kuruvi, Tera Suroor etc). Why? Because I value my money dearly and I have to pay the ticket price out of my pocket unlike the reviewers who get the money milked from their employers. Well...cant call it their luck as they might have gone thru the same ordeal.

Now....you are discouraged reading this. Aren’t you? You wonder "Is this movie really that bad? Or has this guy gone bonkers?". Let me begin this review by asking you some questions. You introspect them and try to figure out WHY I wrote the above paragraph.

a. Why do most of the bollywood heroes need to be baptized as Raj Malhotra or Rahul? Aren’t names as Sunil, Dinesh, Stephen or Harish (dont bother) good enough?

b. Why are all Raj Malhotras in movies predominantly NRIs? If they are really destined to be NRIs maybe I will name my kid as Raj Malhotra (if it is a girl I will name her Anjali). Who knows...he could be singing duets in Swiss Alps or Phuket Islands.

c. Why do Bollywood Heroines try to pose out as 36-28-36 type figures? Whats wrong with being plump and admitting it? I mean I have no problem with a heroine being plump, but why pass it off? If you don’t understand what I am talking about, you should watch Ms. Balan on the big screen wearing those tight outfits that appear to have been stitched for some voluptuous babe. (she appears much better in the recent Airtel ads)

d. Why do all ex-boyfriends of heroines needs to be pakka A-holes? They are either womanizers or jerks or don’t devote time for the heroines and so she sways towards our Hero. This makes you question the judgment of the heroine and wonder if she really is as smart as she is shown on screen.

Maybe it is a subtle directorial touch to emphasize that Love is blind. But yeah...at least it is a far cry from the earlier cinematic trash where the Hero and Heroine were always their respective first love.

e. Why is Ms. Balan entrusted with the job of looking after the sick, old or suffering patients? Is it because she looks like a really nice lady who would go out of her way to do that...or...is it because she looks to be one of their age-group?

f. Why does a Hero have to run and sing solo romantic number (and be joined by many soon) when the heroine touches him? Ok...calm down. I don’t mind if the song is really that good, but why would you not think that if the song is incorporated with the sole aim of increasing the sales of the eateries in the cafeteria.

g. Why do all Bollywood mainstream movies have atleast one shaadi number where they have to incorporate the Punjabi words "tenu" "kudi" “munda” "mar jaava" "Leke Jaava"? The male dress up in designer sherwanis and women dress up in Manish Malhotra wardrobe which should cost her an amount close to what is required to perform a marriage function in itself.

How do you expect a movie to be amazing with all these inconsistencies? The point is that a movie is supposed to be mesmerizing and it allows the director to provide some escapist entertainment. I am not against masala movies or regular candy floss stuff, but the point is that this movie seems to be a candy floss which is prepared with more salt than sugar.

The story line is simple that Raj malhotra (Shahid) is an out of the work architect who is looking for the big break. By chance and fate he comes to believe that every time Vidya Balan is around, he seems to hit the right note and get a home run. He is preparing to build a mall for a contractor (Om Puri) and the problem is that it is the point of dispute for Vidya who is out to save a community center at the expense of the mall.

The problem with this movie that it is very much predictable. When a scene pops up, you know what will happen in the next frame and worse, you can even guess the dialogues. The jokes are ok to laugh at that moment, but once you are out of the theatre you don’t even remember what you laughed for. Well...in that case, I should say that it was not a KILLER stuff unlike other comedies which make you gag yourself.

Shahid Kapur in many scenes tries to be ShahRukh. He has developed some nice bulging muscles and the costume designer favors him by dressing him up in nice suits and biceps revealing shirts. His comic timing is ok and he does a decent job. The scene where he was good was the monologue where he explains Vidya about his ambition and the last scene where he explains about consumerism and human welfare. To be frank, as the end credits rolled out, the only thing that really impressed me and which I remembered was the last scene where he makes a nice emotional speech.

Vidya Balan has a hackneyed role. Neither she looks appealing (in fact one girl behind my seat said she looked HUGE) and nor she has much scope to perform. To top it all her costumes are horrendous and there is NO chemistry between her and Shahid. The rest of the cast as Om Puri, Juhi Chawla (over the top but cute) and Vishal malhotra do a decent job. Perhaps the best surprise was provided by Boman Irani as the 'waving uncle' character and it was a nice (and only good one) twist indeed.

The Ai Pappi song was foot tapping while the rest were just ordinary types. Better luck next time Pritam! Now coming to the director. Aziz Mirza usually is identified with ordinary man's stories and I guess he too gave in to the NRI movie brigade. And the comedy too was way thanda compared to his other movies.

Maybe you may feel that I am too harsh and maybe I am, but I am so because the cast promised so much and delivers so little. Maybe what they needed was Konnection (or whatever it is) with some good writers instead of having relied on their Kismat to see them through.

Rating: 2/5

Find below the song of the moment (will try to have one in every post henceforth).

In a world filled with mayhem, ear-shattering beats and tongue and nose touching each other (naaka mukka :P), I am glad that someone decided to churn out a song which just required your ears & senses open and eyes closed. Thanks James Vansathan!!

Jaane Tu...Ya Jaane Na

By the time the end credits rolled on screen, Jai had walked out of the theatre leaving Aditi behind. She scampered her way amidst the teenybopper Friday Evening crowd and punched as hard as she could on his arm (with fake anger). Of course, that was a reward for deserting her when he should have played the Knight-in-the-armor part who would rescue her out of theater.

As Jai and Aditi hopped on to his Red Wagon-R, he switched on the A/C as the car rolled out of the Fame Adlabs theatre in Mumbai.

Aditi: Jai. What is it? You didn't like the movie?

Jai: It was ok yaar. It is not some earth shattering stuff like Rang De Basanti or Taare Zameen Par.

A: See. Those are also Aamir Khan movies. Bolo Aamir Khan ki Jay. (giggles)

J: Oh cmon Adi. It was just some mushy romance and time pass movie.

A: What were you expecting? Bullet-time animation? Slow motion, world saving super heroes and blowing cars? Half or quarter clad Mallika or Rakhi?

J: Its not like that Aditi. Agreed we boys do like to watch such over-the-top, sleazy, cheap and stupid movies at times....but not again...they are just AT TIMES.

A: So your taste is good at movies?

J: Of course. Remember Pans Labyrinth? How was that?

A: Uweek. Gross looking creatures with Eyes, ears and what-not misplaced.

J: Oh c'mon. It is pure cinema. Part fantasy, part fiction, part drama. Its so amazing.

A: Yea...but what about the ending? What is it with you guys and sad ending movies? Why can’t we live happily ever after?

J: Because we it is not the same way in life Adi.

A: Why not? J: I don’t know. But it is not that way. They show an ordinary guy become successful and rich overnight. How many people you know have gone through that Adi? They show an angry hero crusading against the villain and say "Satyameva Jayate" at the end. Where does it happen?

A: Cinema is an illusion Jai. It is always nice to look at something which "could" happen rather than wondering "what" the hell happened.

J: What about this movie?

A: What about it? It was good time-pass chakas stuff.

J: No. I mean the theme. Do you accept it? Friends turning into lovers?

A: Why not? Isn't it always nice to like someone whom you know instead of forcing things around?

J: This has been beaten to death theme. I myself have seen so many of them.

A. You mean couples or films?

J: How do you twist things you devil (sneers). Its films Adi. I have seen so many of them.

A: See. You have seen so many and you turn to see one again. (huskily)That's the magic of love. J: Very funny. As if you care.

A: What I care? What do you mean?

J: You mean to say you would choose a known likeable friend instead of some IIT or IIM graduated million-dollar-baby your mom would recommend to marry?

A: Hmmm...let me think.

J: See. This (points finger at her) is practicality.

A: Stupid. I meant to say, let me think what excuse I can put to my mom to say that I don't like the million dollar baby.

J: You are saying this because you know it won't happen.

A: And why not?

J: Because you won't fall in love with anyone.

A: Well...that's all you know about me after these 5 years.

J: Come on Adi. You are way playful to be in serious love.

A: So what? Just because you are serious in everything does it mean that you are serious about love and loving someone?

J: Maybe it is.

A: Then tell it you dumbo.

J: Tell what?

A: Forget it.

Both remain silent for some time. Jai turns the radio on.

"And now we will listen to the hit rocking number from the movie Jaane Tu....Ya Jaane Na. Keep listening."

The song Jaane Tu Meri kya hai plays hauntingly as Jai and Aditi remain silent. They listen to every word of it amidst the busily constantly honking Mumbai traffic. It seemed as if someone had written it keeping them in their mind.

Instead of steering into the read leading to Andheri West, Jai steers the car to the Chowpatty beach with Aditi not complaining as if it didn't bother her. After parking the car, Jai walks out and sits on the bonnet of the car. Aditi walks out calmly and sits next to him.

Jai: Do you realize that our college folks will make pair us and drive us nuts after they see the movie?

Aditi: How about making it true?

They hug each other and don't speak a word for quite sometime. The radio DJ starts playing Tum Bin Bataaye as if he is playing cupid for them.

P.S: Am yet to see the this movie :-)

Dasavatharam

Yeah. I know. Why would someone want to read a review after almost 3 weeks since a movie has been released? Well....how about...to kill time? :-).

The basic problem or advantage (depending on your taste in movies) in Mr. Hassan's movies are that he tries to convey lot of things in one movie and sometimes it just spills out. While the average viewer used to dappankuthu and punch dialog stuff as in Vijaykanth, Balakrishna and Vijay's movies may find it too hard to understand and digest, the avid cinema lover would embrace it with all his heart as watching it time and again gives him a refreshing experience and conveys a new meaning every time its viewed.

That is exactly the same problem/advantage in Dasavatharam.

Among all the hype and hoopla surrounding the 10 characters Mr. Kamal has portrayed, it is quite to difficult to spot and be in awe of them and lose the plot and narration. There is no story to speak of and so it is quite odd to write a review and not mention the basic plot.

The plot revolves around Govind, a scientist in US who finds a virus which he says is powerful than anthrax. Govinds superior is corrupt and tries to sell the virus which leads to a chain reaction which ultimatley brings forth all the avatars of Mr. Kamal. In between he meets all the Kamals and that to say...is Dasavatharam. Odd? What the heck? Yep. Thats what strikes you when you hear the story (or lack of it).

But truly, Mr. Hassan is indeed a jack-of-all-trades. Not only does he don the mantle of writing the screenplay, but also plays all the 10 roles (virtually hogging every other frame of the 3 hours odd movie) and plays them with distinctive touches. Thank god, if not for the central character Govind, I would have even forgotten what the real Kamal looks like.

Almost every other issue under the sun has been discussed ranging from Butterfly Effect, Nuclear war to Caste discrimination and Sand Quarry Theft. Personally I think it is a masterstroke to include so many of them in a pot pourri masala flick and possibly only Mr. Hassan can achieve it. But that as well robs the movie of the distinction of belonging to any one particular genre.

Personally I think the characters of Fletcher and Balram Naidu were the best. Bush was needless to say funny. Given a choice, I would love to see a movie featuring Balram Naidu and his stupid antics. Fletcher should rank as Mr. Hassan's most stylish role to date (the square jaw being characteristic of CIA Assassins?). The general complaint has been that there have been some roles which were just filled in to make a round count of 10. Not to defend it, but I think that is EXACTLY the point. Don’t we see how one small action triggered in one small corner of the world affects someone somewhere else?

I don’t know if it is me, but personally I felt that the character of Govind stood the most poorly sketched. And yeah, what was with the Bullet-curing-cancer theory Mr. Hassan? Hope we wont have cancer patients who will run around the doctors with guns in their hand and asking them to shoot-and-cure them. Asin was so irritating that I wished that Kamal would take the vial from the statue, tie her to it and throw her in the Indian Ocean. Among all the pygmies among Gulliver Kamal, M S Bhaskar raised few laughs with his Jeppiarish english.

Surprisingly Himesh Reshamaiyya's two bhajan type Kallai Kandal and Mukunda fared better. Hope that doesnt prompt him to wear the swoosh cap and croon "Om Jai Jagadish Hare" in his nasal accent. Devisri Prasad's background score is good and sometime has some Harris Jairajish touches. But dont know why he needed to include the Spiderman 3 promo music in the beginning. Maybe all Mr. K S Ravikumar was needed for was for the Balram Naidu parts and to dance in the climax.

The graphic sequences are quite tacky compared to hollywood, but then cant complain much as we can do that much with limited budget and so we are still taking baby steps in graphics. Don’t know how many of you noticed, but Mr. Hassan has a small homage to his acting guru Mr. DeNiro when Fletcher quips "You talking to me?" in the climax reminiscent of the famous monologue in Taxi Driver.

Mr. Hassan is a great actor and we all know it. But this film does not require much of his acting abilities. Rather other skills as his patience to go through the grind of hours of make up for minutes of shots, his unmatched perfect linguistic talents and change of body language have been put to test. Finally, this film would be remembered for an intelligent (but incoherent) screenplay talent of Mr. Hassan that he has used to bind these 10 characters.

Last but not the least, there was this amazing piece of dialogue.

Asin: Are you saying that God does not exist?

Kamal: I am not saying that. All I am saying is that I wish he did.

This one piece of dialogue was bloody worth my ticket price and a standing ovation.

Rating: 3.5 / 5

Happily Every After?

Today 7.30 AM

In a room just for her

It was quite convenient that everyone had left the room to see the groom coming back to the mandap, while other relatives were busy in the other dressing room chit-chatting and telling each other how they had made their respective husbands buy their costly necklace or ear ring or any obscure piece of jewel on their body.

She was alone. All alone by herself. She saw herself in the mirror.

The light red color sari which was filled with chamki work did go well with her medium complexion. She was woken up early in the morning at around 5 AM like in the army camps and the beautician had started polishing her up. Her job was possibly the toughest in the whole arrangement as she had to show something that was probably non-existent or hidden. Perhaps that’s why even her scrooge like mother did not mind paying up the fat bill of 7500 Rs that she charged for those 2 hours of work. The last thing she wanted to hear was some groom's relatives grumping and complaining about the girl's complexion.

She had a mehendi in shape of a peacock which started from her arms and ended in her tiny fingers. She might have appreciated the work of art on any other day and even on any other person (although she might have felt jealous), but maybe not today. Even the 30 sovereign gold distributed equally on her body failed to accentuate her on one possible area.

Her face.

She felt like as if she had forgotten to smile. And then she thought about him. She wondered what he was doing now.
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Yesterday 7.30 PM

His house

Actually it was a tough choice. He had to decide with his limited experience and knowledge. He had done it only very very few times before, but today he needed it. When he used to see it in the movies, he used to think "What a piece of crap", but today it appeared logical. No wonder they tell that art is inspired from life.

He had to choose between Bacardi rum or the Black label. He wondered if doing an inki-pinki-ponki between them would freak out the shop-boy. So finally he decided to go by instinct and logic. Since it was apparent that his life had plunged in darkness, he decided to make it darker with Black label. Logical eh?

After having bought 2 packets of Ruffles Lays and some mixture he did not care to read name about, he went to his room and locked himself up. His roommate was off for night shift and so he was alone. ALONE. He could do whatever he wanted and he was his master today. He remembered seeing an 80's English movie named "8 million ways to die" and wondered if it was all true. Were there really so many possibilities?

Throwing towel on reason, he decided to pursue his current mission.

FORGET HER.
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Today 8 AM

Her younger sister accompanied her from the bride’s room and she was beaming with pride and happiness. Apparently her parents were happy as their freak show was going as planned and their ego was satisfied. The relatives were happy as they would be getting 2 square royal meals and something to gossip about for sometime. What about the girl's happiness hereafter? Who cares.

The place was filled with smoke because of the religious rites being performed. It was convenient for her in a way. Even if anyone would ask why her eyes were moist, she could shift the blame on the smoke. Another option was to say that she was feeling sad for missing her parents from today, although she had little doubt that she was lying enough to get a season ticket to hell. The groom was busy chanting the mantras and even his eyes seemed moist.

She may or perhaps may never know the real reason for his tears. Who knows if he too was victim of circumstances like her? Perhaps that why we humans should never invent a mind reading machine. If they ever prepared one and if it were to be out in the markets, imagine what kind of a catastrophe it could bring on us. No one would even pass an interview, no one would get elected, no one would get married (save a few) and murders could be on the rise.

Scary enough.

She had reasoned and argued with her parents that her choice was correct and that he was perfect. But it never seemed to reach their deaf ears. All they wanted was 'her welfare', 'her goodwill', 'family status', 'relative’s loose talk', 'her sister’s marriage later', ‘what will society say’. She had just one reason on her side and they had so many. The balance never seemed to be tilted in her favor. If she had decided to step out for good, she would be branded 'traitor', 'selfish' and every other thing in the lexicon that is available for making someone depressed. But when her parents state their reasons even if they are for their own, they are 'reasonable' and 'caring'.

Love was still a taboo subject in the second populous country on the face of earth where Vatsayana wrote Kamasutra and epics like ‘Ambikavati-Amaravathy’ were written and Taj Mahal was erected. Most parents in India physically live in the ipod age and their minds and egos are still left in the rock ages.

Welcome to the world of Indian marriages.

The first thing every parent wonders when told about love is that it is infatuation. And even if not the immediate question raised is ‘It will wean over with time’. As if arranged marriage comes with some kind of bond where groom pledges never to ditch the girl.

She wondered if like in those old hindi movies where the hero would appear out of nowhere and drag the heroine out from a forced marriage, he would come on a horse or maybe disguise himself and sit smiling next to her. As she sat near the groom, she slowly turned her head to see his face.

It was not him.
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Yesterday 8 PM

There were almost 90 channels on his cable connection and no channel appealed to him. He could not listen to one song and could not watch one scene. The rest were all mega serial shit that he never gave a damn about. Either way they would show 'love triumph above all odds' stuff which would only add fuel to the fire in his heart.

Why do they make movies like that where after the entire struggle the couple remain happy ever after? How many happen that way? Even if they do, what are the other consequences? What happens after marriage is the same as it happens everywhere and anywhere between any couple. No one cares a damn if an arranged marriage goes haywire. Why point out failed love marriages?

He failed to understand what was wrong with him. He was intelligent, smart, decent-looking, earning well. It was the same stuff they were searching for their lovely daughter. Infact he had additional qualification of loving her and caring for her better than they could have ever imagined. Yet he lacked in one important criterion. He was from a different section of society. Seemed as if having born to his parents belonging to this section of society was all his crime.

It’s like a vortex where we get trapped and no way seems out. No one gives a damn if they stay happy later. What matters is NOW. What matters is 'what will all our relatives say', 'what will the society say' as if they share all our emotional burdens. He could not blame her or himself and it was not right as well. They had tried their best. It was just that they were one of the few pairs who revolted against a huge system.

The Black label seemed to be doing what it was intended to do in first place. Make him asleep. He did not want to wake up tomorrow to remember that it was her marriage and that he was not next to her.

He rested his head on the pillow nearby and plunged into deep sleep. A sleep where he could imagine anything. A sleep where there were no boundaries, no limitations, no one to reason any logic, no one to care about.

A dream and a parallel universe where there were no parents or relatives who boasted and talked of status, caste, creed, color or anything obscure. He was alone....alone with her.
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"Boy or a girl?"

"Girl"

"Why not a boy?"

"I am a boy. So shouldn’t you have a girl.?"

"Hello....I am a girl.

"Yeah. I want one like you."

"Why do you need another when you have me with you?"

They laugh at their silly joke and smile and hug each other.

P.S: Inspired from too many real incidents…past, present and future

P.S1: தமிழ் படிக்க தெரிஞ்சவங்க கொஞ்சம் இங்கே போங்க

Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa

We all feel sleepy in the afternoon. And when you add the fact that our Indian food is so amazingly designed to be heavy, you cant resist feeling sleepy.

Worse, I had a presentation today morning for which I had to slog yesterday night and I had only 2 hours of sleep. My eyes were super-duper red like Vijaykanth and I was barely able to look at the monitor. 2 huge mugs of coffee failed to keep my eyes open.

As luck would have it, many of my clients left in the afternoon and I was left alone. Wondering what to do, I opened my favorite site...YOU-TUBE. I closed my eyes and decided to enter anything that would come to my mind first. I typed Kabhi haan Kabhi Naa and found this song. Its amazing that even though it has been years since I listened to this song, I remembered its lyrics and also the shot angles. SRK looks so young and innocent and if I remember correctly Suchitra Krishnamurthy used to appear in Sunrise ads.

The initial music sounds like the old song "Dilbar mere Kab tak mujhe". Kumar Sanu ruled Bollywood in this period and Jatin-Lalit were in prime form. Hmmm....well...to let one secret out, this was our gang's theme song for their respective school crushes :-).

For more nostalgia, click here.

Can we leave?

She: Darling. How is this color? (Shows a saree)

He: You like it?

She: You tell me if you like it first.

He: Yeah. Looks kind of good.

She: Ok. We will see another one.

He: What? You don’t like this?

She: You know something? You have got a horrible color sense.

He: Wow. That’s very comforting.

She: How can you like that color? Look at it. It’s orange with green border.

He: So what? It would go nice with your color.

She: You know why I asked you? Because always seem to like colors which I don’t go good with me.

He: Well. Even the army selection test for color blindness seems better now.

She: (after 20 minutes of saree checking) Honey. Are you bored?

he: Oh....actually no. I am enjoying this whole attention thing?

She: What attention thing?

He: Look around dear. I am the only male in this whole shop. So every other female is staring at me. What say?

She: (pointing to a guy at a corner) What about him?

He: Let me guess. Isn’t he paid to be here?

She: And him? (another guy at another corner)

He: He robs me. Because he is the friggin owner. He collects money from me and gets to be with all the hot chicks in the shop and the ones who come here to shop. What do you call that?

She: So you think that the chicks in this shop are hot?

He: (realizing that its gone other way) Well..you see....I was presenting you his perspective.

She: And that is?

He: Like...he finds these chicks hot. Obviously you know my taste in woman.

She: You like Tanushree Datta and Devayani.

He: I NEVER liked Devayani. I mean who in the world finds Devayani hot...except of course her husband?

She: Your friend said that you had a notebook with her photo in the front.

He: I also had a notebook with Ajit’s photo on it. What does that prove?

She: Hee hee...which means you think Tanushree is hot?

He: Tense Tense dear.

She: What tense?

He: Use past tense. It is THOUGHT and not THINK. That was when I was single.

She: Hmmm. So you like this color? (shows another saree)

He: (looking bored) Don’t bother. Either way you won’t like it.

She: You seem so fruity. Why is that?

He: We have been here for what...like 2 hours? How many sarees have you selected? Let me guess.....how about zero?

She: We women take time. Haven’t you gone out with your mom to buy saree?

He: That fate was reserved for my poor dad. He would practically look like a sheep walking to the slaughter house when accompanying her to the saree shop.

She: Hmmm...so you feel the same way?

He: No No. I am talking about my dad. It’s ok. Do you realize that as of now we men are the weaker sex and not you?

She: Why is that?

He: See around. You will find so many shops that sell stuff for women. Saree shops, Cosmetic shops, beauty parlors, Chudidaar shops. Brands like L’oreal and Garnier which are like stuff that only Ambanis and Birlas can afford. In addition to that you can wear jeans and T-shirt also which seemed to the only thing that we men could tag along with.

She: So what is that my poor husband is trying to prove?

He: That you have so many choices and we have none. The only thing you have spared us are the useless and step-and-trip dhotis and devadas kurtas.

She: You forgot something. We have a version of Dhoti and we call it skirt and I think you must be living in mars because you forgot that we also wear Kurtis.

He: Hmmm…lucky you. So you like this?

She: Actually I like that one (points to another saree which a women nearby is examining)

He: Tell me something? Why do you women always seem to pick clothes that some other women seem to like?

She: That is totally false. Its’ not like that.

He: Ok. Let me refresh your memory cells. Remember what happened one month before? You almost grabbed the saree that the women next to us selected and went to counter. The women looked at you as if she was witnessing us landing from spaceship. Thank god that they had a spare saree of the same color and they gave one to her.

She: See. The matter was resolved.

He: Imagine if they had run out of stocks. Then we would have had a tug-of-war with that woman and her poor husband on one side of the saree and you and me on the other.

She: I know we would win. My husband is strongest.

He: You seem to like me now. Wait a minute....is this saree costly? That’s why you are hitting on me?

She: Nothing that you can’t afford (whispers price in his ears).

He: (looking bewildered) ok. It’s ok if it makes you happy. Can we go now to the counter?

She: You forgot something.

He: What now?

She: I have to collect another to go to my friend Shamili's Bday.

He almost faints as she walks to select another saree.

Summer of 69

Today
7.30 AM

The cock-a-doodle-doo was probably a caveman's favorite idea of wake-up call. But Rahul had no particular attachment or fondness of waking up to that sound. Infact, he despised it to the core of his heart. Probably that is why he kept it as his mobile alarm ring tone so that he could atleast wake up in anger to silence it and bring his world to peace. But today being a Monday, Rahul was extra large lazy and decided to snooze it and romance with Asin for another 10 brief minutes.

Realizing that he could be late for the 9 AM conference call, he woke up at 7.45 cursing the dead person who had declared Monday to be a working day. As every bachelor's speedy get-ready-zip-zap-zoom habit, Rahul was ready tip-top in his Indigo Nation blue shirt and Van Heusen black pant by 8.05 AM. He collected the laptop bag which lay untouched in the hall.

Damn! His shoes just looked like the dirty old ones they showed in the Cherry blossom ads. Reminding himself to get it shoe-shined in the automatic machine outside his office, he picked up his Maruti Zen key from the drawer.

Hmmmm! Another 5 more days to go.

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April 2003
6.30 AM

"Raghuuuuuuuu! Wake up" Rahul wanted to slap him really hard or pour water over him.

Raghu (a) Kattai (meaning log in tamil) was Rahul's roommate for the past 2 years. Any stranger who would hear Raghu being referred to as Kattai would probably derive that he was nicknamed so owing to his stocky 6 feet plus frame. But the plain fact was that it was because Raghu could really sleep like one huge log. All his floor mates once sat around him and cried and howled as if Raghu was dead. One guy even lit an agarbatti and another guy garlanded him with paper. The only thing missing were 2 cotton pieces blocking his nostrils. Oh...I almost forgot to mention. Raghu only knows this news through hearsay as he never remembered a thing.

After 15 minutes of herculean effort Raghu opened his eyes in the same vein as any amnesia-struck hero does in hindi movies. Rahul wondered if one day he would blur "Main kahaan hoon?" (Where am I) like those stupid heroes. While Rahul was revising for the 2nd time since 4.30 AM, Raghu had another 1.5 units to cover and finish them off. In Raghu's almanac revising was a word as much absent as a happy saas-bahu relationship in Ekta kapoor's serial.

"Is it time to go to Anthony?" asked a sleepy Raghu.

Anthony (a) Drunken monk was their exam guru. Other than gulping Haywards 5000 and Kalyani black label in 5 mins flat, Anthony had a unique gift of forecasting the probable questions. In every other exam he would predict atleast 3 questions of which 2 would certainly appear. While Rahul wore his regular brown pant and striped shirt (which he wore on every other exam since the first semester as a regular sentiment), Raghu went to the campus Vinayaka temple which was as usual operating house full as on every other semester exam period.

Rahul felt a knot in his stomach as he sat in the exam hall. Surprisingly though, it had nothing to do with skipping his morning breakfast or the semester exam.

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Today
2 PM

Rahul was bored. After checking all his gmail, yahoo, msn and office mails for the 3rd time and finding no scraps even in his orkut even though he had uploaded new pics, he was kind of sleepy and frustrated. He had finished the conference call, worked on some Statement of facts documents, reviewed some artifacts and had a full lunch.

The curd rice was beginning to show its soporific effect. His outlook calendar reminded him that he had a team meeting in another one hour where he was supposed to go through the usual drill of asking the status and hearing a customary "Its done" although everyone knew it was far from ready.

Deciding to give himself some break, he walked to the new state-of-the art shopping mall opposite his office. He found the Cadbury dairy milk Roasted almond too tempting to ignore and decided to have one. Just as he was billing it in the counter, he observed a child nudging his mom and pointing towards him.

"What is it honey?" asked the mom.

"I need that chocolate" declared the kid in a get-what-I-ask-for-or-I-will-scream-my-lungs-out tone.

"Which one darling?"

"The one that the uncle is having."

Just as he heard it, Rahul dropped the chocolate on the floor.

UNCLE!!!!!!!!!

UNCLE??????

Rahul lost his interest in the chocolate. As he passed outside the shopping mall, he saw his pale reflection in the mirror. What had he become? At 27, he had a paunch like a 3 month old pregnant lady. His forehead was receding (thanks to his genetic gift from his dad and granddad) and there were dark circles on his face thanks to insomniac working hours.

Still, Uncle seemed a little bit far-fetched.

He promised himself to hit the gym once again and drain it all out. If Shahrukh could do it, then so could he. He saw the chocolate. Was all the gymming and dieting worth the loss of tasting the chocolate, panneer, pizza, pasta or another hour of peaceful sleep in the cozy bed wrapping the blanket around? Either way what was the point of having six-pack abs if it were to stay tucked in behind the executive shirt all day along?

As he reached his cubicle, he wore his iPod earphones and turned them on. It immediately came to life with "Summer of 69" by Bryan Adams. The song transported him to another world in another day.

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April 2003
2 PM

The college canteen was almost full. Every chair seemed taken and no doubt Baalu anna was having some bloody brisk business. This was the same place where they had shared all their joys and sorrows. It had witnessed them celebrate surprise birthday parties with the most wonderful to the stupidest gifts presented. The Birthday bums, cake cutting (or snatching), the romantic jodis drinking one Maaza for one day. This was the same place where the guys would rate the girls and vice-versa as if they were competing for some Gladrags competition.

The phase "beauty lies in eye of the beholder" comes to life in canteen as the same girl/guy marked 10 in one person's view gets 2 in another person's perspective. They would give CD to Baalu anna to play and he was their DJ in one way or other. Rahul passed him the CD which he had compiled some days before. No one seemed in a mood for full lunch. The track started from "paapa kehte hain" and rolled on with "Mustafa Mustafa", "Manase Manase" and so on. Half of the girls had already started crying and hugging.

Some guys did pose to be tough and acted all chirpy-chirpy, but as the tracks progressed, their resolve weakened and they seemed to shed a tear or two. In one way or other, college life marked an important event in every person's life. We learn to adjust, fail, succeed, celebrate, embrace, make friends, enemies, love, hate and do so much more. To him, college seemed like a crash-course on life-skills.

As Bryan Adams crooned "I got my first real six-string", the guys came out alive. Barely anyone knew the lyrics. The only line they all knew collectively was "Those were the best days of my life" and they shouted it with as much vigor and enthusiasm as they could muster. By the end of that song they were laughing and embracing each other which prompted Baalu anna to play it one more time.

By the end of the song, Raghu hugged Rahul and admittedly he did looked silly shedding tears for his entire six foot frame. It almost looked like Hagrid hugging Harry.

"Will you miss me Rahul?" asked a moist eyed Raghu.

"Not if we stay in touch forever you dumb-ass" replied Rahul.

They laughed and cried at the same time.

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Today
1030 PM

Its amazing how the human mind works. Just one 3 odd minute song and he was still reeling under its effect for more than 8 hours. It was as if so many emotions and memories were attached to that one song. Like a domino effect, it slided with one memory, then the other and another and another....till it made him feel how much he missed those happy days.

Rahul did not find the nerve to call Raghu even after contemplating it for 3 hours. Finally he mailed a "Hi Boss" mail after a long thought. In the beginning few months till he went to work, Rahul regularly called Raghu and all his friends or atleast mailed them. But as days progressed, the 3 paragraph mails shrunk to 2 and then to one and finally condensed to occasional scraps on orkut or facebook.

What had happened? Was it him? Them? Or Both?

Was this the happy life he had dreamt about? Was this the triumph he had envisaged? All nothing but personal glory? What had happened to "Not if we stay in touch forever"??????

It was not like Rahul had been totally out of touch. He went with his friends to Munaar on one of their friend’s marriage, went to Coorg for trekking, had wolf-whistled in one of their friends marriage function. Thank the lord that the bride was also their college-mate, otherwise they would have been driven out for all their misbehavior. He would occasionally mail them or talk to them, but maybe he felt like he could do more. Instead of waiting for the other person to contact him first, maybe he should have taken the first step forward.

He smiled as he wondered what would be their reaction when they would read his mail after such long time. He was listening to "Summer of 69" for the umpteenth time. Even today he hardly understood what Bryan Adams was singing or the words for that matter. Maybe it didn’t matter and probably it never would. He decided to join Bryan Adams and sung "Those were the best days of my life" closing his eyes and losing himself to the magic.

His team mates in the adjoining cubicle peeked into his cubicle and found him singing merrily with his eyes closed and sporting a child like smile.

P.S: An ode to the amazing, memorable and wonderful college days :-)