Manic Mondays!

Well, contrary to what I've written as "Manic Mondays", Mondays are not manic at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. Mondays can be safely termed as dull, boring, and sleepy, and the one thing which I absolutely hate is waking up to another Monday morning. It is all very nice for the Tom Sawyers of this world, pretending tooth ache and going to the extent of even losing the tooth in question(!!!) and conveniently missing school on Monday. If only it were as convenient for us poor employees. Ahh, well, I dont deny that I exercise my little gray cells on Sunday evening( you gotta be prepared in advance, guys!) and think of probable and convincing excuses for going in a couple of hours late on Mondays. My favorites being, a visit to the doctor(I have an unbearable pain in my tummy!), a visit to the bank(havta send money home, they need it badly!), bike's punctured(we both know I'm lying, but try proving it!) and, the most classic excuse of all, which the boss cannot refute in the most extreme of circumstances - Traffic Jam. Traffic jams are a boon to us here in Hyderabad, and invariably used by more than 50% latecomers. The rest is all quite easy, and something I'm quite adept at... Pretending to be busy and harassed at work, giving the boss an impression that you are one of the few hard workers left in this world; roam around the office a couple of times during the day, shuffling a few papers and muttering to yourself; this also gives the boss the same impression. Open Gtalk and Yahoo Messenger stealthily, and chat to your heart's content. Before you know it, its evening, time to leave, and thats another dreaded Monday laid to rest. In relative peace.

Leaflet from a devil's diary - A short story

Dear diary, I opened my eyes to a dark, windy day. A perfect day for us devils, I thought, as I clapped my hands gleefully n stomped out of my bed. Performed my daily ablution of dustin' myself thoroughly wid ash. It took me the better part of an hour, n I did it with great fervour. Why is it, my dear diary, tht though I do it twice a day widout fail I dont get any fairer?? Hurried to the office n smiled at the pretty receptionist, who glared in return. I mean, its not my fault tht I've got stubby legs n funny horns, aint it? Anyways, my momma says I'm the most handsome devil ever born, and let anyone who thinks otherwise rot in fungus!

The boss was positively fuming today, mebbe he's got somethn on his mind, the poor feller.... Heard from the grapevine that he's got severe poop problems, so why doesnt he go to the witch doctor and do somethn abt it, for chrissakes? Hell smells bad enough, and now he's just adding to it. Aargghh, hell is teeming with hundreds of new souls everyday, and these guys don't even give me a raise for all the extra torture that I've had to do; cmon, how much more can a devil take?

PS: Guys, I've run out of ideas for this piece. In case any one has any idea as to how to continue this, please let me know. I shall be more than happy to write their name in this space. I look forward to giving this baby a happy ending, folks. Please help. :-(

Acting Vs. Politics

What is it about these two fields, anyway? Are they one and the same, with just a thin line in between???

I really dont understand why successful actors, with a good name in the movie industry risk everything they have, and join the murky world of politics. This trend is not prevalent just in India, but in the US too(remember Arnold? Ronald Reagan?)... Ohh, politicians were always great actors, in fact, I wonder how they act so splendidly without ever enrolling in an acting school, heh.

After a spate of actors entering the political arena, the latest to join the bandwagon is our South Indian superstar, Chiranjeevi. I know its wishful thinking, hoping Chiranjeevi is going to make a difference, and that the lives of Andhraites are going to take a turn for the better; like some cine industry scribe put it, he never cared tuppence for the film industry people, and the people he knew; so how on earth can we expect him to do something good for the people of the state?

Political campaigns have a volley of actors at the helm, so much so that, people forget the real meaning of these meets, and flock just to catch a glimpse of their favorite actor/actress. Talented South Indian actress Soundarya lost her life when she was on her way to attend some similar meeting. What a meaningless end.

Even our dear respected politicians have turned towards acting nowadays; what with Laloo Prasad Yadav having an entire film named after him, and on his way to acting in his second, I seriously doubt whether these two industries are planning a merger.

Hmm. Should be quite interesting.

Nostalgia

Parlakhemundi, the place where I grew up, is a paradise for lazy bums like me; I still remember the summer holidays I spent as a kid, when I had nothing better to do except think about what games to play; I remember the times when we had a hard time deciding whether Hide-and-seek, or Chasing game was a better choice. When we didnt know what having computers in the house was like. I love these warm, drowsy, afternoons, when you feel like doing absolutely nothing, just laze around in the house, or maybe go out into the backyard and climb the gauva trees, and yearn for the juiciest ones which are always out of reach. On days like these everything is unusually silent, and the normal sounds of nature, like the twittering of sparrows, or the occasional bark of a dog, are amplified. Those sounds soothe me like no other, and it is the only place where I feel absolutely at peace with myself.

Even now, years later, whenever I visit my grandparents, deep inside my heart, I feel like I've finally come home. The house itself, rambling and huge, feels welcoming and warm, and I feel an overwhelming sense of security. I guess there is something special about the place where you spent your entire childhood, where all the townspeople live as neighbours. I feel glad that none of those people have changed, and I feel happy about the fact that they still remember me, as the child that I was, and treat me with the same affection whenevr I visit the place. Parlakhemundi is the only town that I know of, that has'nt changed; new buildings might have cropped up, and new people might have made it home; but the real spirit of the place, the old-world feel... they're exactly the same.

I feel thankful, that I have a haven to escape to, when I find mundane life too much to bear; I have a home, which will always wait for me with welcome arms, and people who I love, will always be there to love me in return.

Kung Fu Panda Review

Kung Fu Panda is like a whiff of cool air after all those action flicks, Wanted, The Dark Knight, and Hancock. Chock full of humor, the film portrays the dreams and aspirations of an overweight, lovable panda, Po. Po wants to be a Kung Fu warrior, but feels thats an impossible feat, partly due to his weight, and partly due to his responsibilities towards his Dad's noodle restaurant. Po's fortune changes when an announcement is made regarding a search for the Dragon Warrior, and Po decides to try his luck. Needless to say, our hero gets selected as the Chosen One, and embarks on his adventures. How he realizes his dream, and proves that he is, indeed, the Dragon Warrior, forms the crux of the story. The film has been made with a liberal dash of humor, but it has its serious elements as well. The animation is excellent, and so are the graphics. The film can be seen by all age groups, since it has a subtle message which says, "Dont judge yourself too hastily, dude, success lies in your hands, entirely!!! No secret ingredient!!!" So all you young uns out there, who were hoping to pass your examinations without studying, take care! You might not be as fortunate as me! Heh.

Phoonk Review

Deccan Chronicle sums up Phoonk in just one sentence - "Phoonk fails to scare!" Yea, I expected to shiver, and planned on viewing the entire movie through slits in my fingers, but found out that there was absolutely no need to do so. The only way Phoonk scares the audience is through its blaring sound effects. The sounds are deafening, and are a torture on the eardrums. The lead actor is way below average, tries too hard to be the tough guy. The vamp in the film acted horribly, laughing like a cackling rooster, and screaming as if she had sat down on a ton of red hot bricks. She leaves the audience grimacing at her expressions. There is no story at all till the interval; we spent the entire time waiting for something, anything, to scare us; the movie was finished before you could say "Boo!" and the entire theater was in splits, which made us wonder whether Ram Gopal Varma had in fact misled the audience when he said its a horror movie, finally revealing that he had made a comedy, instead.

The film is a poor copy of the box office hit The Exorcist, and even then the likeness was utterly dissatisfactory. The only scenes which have some element of horror in them are not even real, they are just dreams. The one where the hero dreams of prowling through his house, and the one where the maid dreams about the mother-in-law. The actual scenes featuring the girl fail to impress. The Baba is spooky, and looks like a bhoot himself. He overacted like there was no tomorrow, twittering his eyes in a ridiculous manner, and looking like he might drop dead any moment. The only thing his rasping voice did was grate on the audience's nerves. The end is quite sudden, and if you turned for a moment to have some popcorn, or sip some pepsi, blimey! You'll have missed it, and wonder what could possibly have happened within such a short time.

I would rate Phoonk a 1 on a scale of 5, and would ask you not to waste valuable bucks watching it in a theater. If you love Ramu too much, and feel like watching it nevertheless, get a CD or a DVD. You'll not be missing anything.

Ever felt like quitting?

You ever have the feeling, where you just wanted to scream, smash the screen before you, and stomp out? Ever felt that mind numbing sensation, which you used to feel way back in college when listening to your parents' lectures? Aaarrgggh, I feel the same way now, buddies! Every morning I wake up and think, "Awww, Lord, no, not another working day!!!" If it wasnt for the life saving two days they call weekends, I wonder what on earth would've happened to me.

A boss who expects me to work wonders, and frowns when that (predictably) doesnt happen; a senior colleague who thinks she is the CEO of the company, and we are all born to slave under her; colleagues who feel the same as I do, which doesnt help matters any, cos all we do since morning is gossipp about everything under the sun, and collectively concentrate on new epithets for the manager. Sales is a real tough job, cos even though you are a star performer, the moment things begin to slack, you are dropped like a hot brick. You gotta perform, period. Now, I'm the sort of girl who's too fond of laziness; I hate people who boss me around, and I'm the perfect taurean - I can be very, very stubborn when I choose to be. All this combined, matters have gone from bad to worse with my new boss. I feel like running away, but not before I give everybody a piece of my mind. I've reached my limit, after seeing the same faces everyday, and doing the same thing over and over again, for two long years.

Sometimes I daydream about being born in the Ambani family, or the Mittal's; I probably would have gotten fat and round like their sons, but heck, what does it matter, anyway? You miraculously get surrounded by new friends, get invites to parties, and literally have a good time, without doing a single thing whatsoever. Hmm, I would get bored of it within a few days anyway, and clamouring for the life I am leading at present.

I guess the human mind always craves the impossible, always pining for something out of our reach. Guess I shall have to make an effort to like the slum I am in, and like the pests generally known as the managers, and the team leaders; appreciate the mediocre life I am leading right now, and daydream about what I could've had, if only things were different.

To go, or not to go

Its monsoon time in Orissa, Dad wants me to come over for the Varalakshmi Puja on 15th August; I am scared to journey through all those waterlogged areas, brave the raging elements, and come back to Hyderabad in one piece, by Monday morning. My favorite train, Falaknuma Superfast Express has turned its tail and started detouring from Orissa ever since the onset of monsoons. I am left with just two options - Visakha Express, and the Konark Express. Visakha leaves Hyderabad at 5PM, drags itself with difficulty all the way and leaves me on Bhubaneswar station at 7PM the next day. Whereas, Konark leaves Hyderabad at 7AM, and dumps me at BBSR the next day morning at 4AM.

To top it all, I hadnt even booked my tickets, and the waiting list showed100+. Aaarrrgggghh! Might as well go anyway, since my leave has been approved, and I have been feeling suffocated since the past few days. Tatkal reservation cost me an extra 150 bucks, but atleast my ticket showed waiting list 18. It was reduced to WL 07 by the time the chart was prepared, and I was a goner. To top it all, I contracted a slight fever that evening, and I boarded Visakha Express with a running nose, blaring cough, and high temperature. I had to run the entire length of the train twice, requesting the TTEs for a berth. They were adamant, saying the train was full and it was impossible to get one. Finally, when it was nearing night, and I was fully exhausted, I let it slip that I had a few bucks I was willing to spare; and a berth miraculously appeared, for 200 bucks.

I gave the money with reluctance and cursed the system from the bottom of my heart. I slept throughout the entire journey, and not even gossip in the compartment about floods at Rajahmundry woke me up. The train finally, mercifully, reached Bhubaneswar, and I caught hold of one of those mini buses which frequent the Bhubaneswar-Cuttack highway. Luck seemed to be mocking me, cos with Cuttack just 05 min away, the bus sputtered to a halt, and thick, hot, smoke started coming from the engine, making it unbearably hot and suffocating. Needless to say, the bus was filled to overflowing, and people started screaming and jumping out of windows. I have been reading too many thrillers recently, and in my mind's view I could see the bus catching fire, and exploding, with me coughing and huddled up inside.

I got up, collected my bags, and started elbowing my way towards the entrance. It was a huge relief when I got out into the open, and breathed in huge gulps of air. I was sick and tired of my misadventures by then, and I motioned to an auto rickshaw which was going in the general direction of Cuttack. I finally reached home at around 8PM, and collapsed on the sofa, my fever kicking in big time. Guess my Dad was overjoyed to see me, but that happiness was shortlived. I spent the entire vacation sleeping, sneezing, coughing, and literally making a nuisance of myself. The only good that came out of this miserable experience was that I was able to bag an extra couple of days leave, spent more time with my family than I did in the last couple of years(yes, I stayed for 8 days, guys!!!) and finally came back to Hyderabad on the 20th. I am still coughing away to glory, but a few days of bliss, where I slept uninterrupted, were worth the effort.