Paras Tomar

That's not my name!

2012-01-29T10:39:00.001-08:00

If cliches are anything to go by, a guy who addresses another guy with a "dude" or "man" or "mate" or "dawg" is in theory wearing low slung jeans, visible boxer shorts in a contrasting color, dr. dre headphones and sports a few tattoos on his arms. And yet somehow, here i am... not your everyday guy from the hood, finding it increasingly difficult to have a conversation with another guy without using "dude" and "man". When did I becomes one of those guys?!

I've never really understood the "mate" bit..and thats still a word that remains unused in my vocabulary. Is it supposed to somehow imply that the other person is your, well mate?! And while some of the above mentioned words come in handy when you a) don't know the person's name b) don't remember it c) dont want to say a name that's either too long, too complicated or too....well whatever the reason maybe.... "dude" comes in handy and usually never goes out of style. Well not until a new friend from the gym says his own name repeatedly in a conversation and clearly says "Paras, my friend..don't call me dude!"

# paras is stumped.

I blame the street talk on one of my recent best friends who not only introduced the "brodaaaaa" talk to me but also made it a very part of my DNA. My usual way of addressing just about all my friends was either too formal or very personal. There really was nothing between Mr... and adressing someone by their first name. The "dude" however, is something i've fallen so in love with that I find myself even addressing some of my more adventurous female friends with the same word. They only laugh.

Ghetto, street, fun..slightly impersonal it may be..but some part of it is me. I might even have gone to the extent of calling it "wannabe" a few years ago.. although now that i think about it... if something is you, it's just you..even if it means NEVER saying your friends names in a conversation..which I'm increasingly noticing!

Bollywood's eccentricities!

2011-10-12T13:59:00.000-07:00

I do what I do with mild amusement.

Amongst a host of travel, youth and trend shows..the one's I love anchoring, , are bollywood shows. And with good reason.This is a country that loves it's movie stars. I do too. I just don't care about the movies, i never have.

Most people are shocked, and some are convinced that I'm fibbing when I say... "I don't watch bollywood movies". But that's perhaps why i've been able to tirelessly do these shows for a few years now, because the films never excited me. The actors did.

I mean no disrespect to our cinema. It's our biggest cultural export, and perhaps our most entertaining one at that. Images of the Indian parliament and ministers hurling shoes at each other may rarely make it to the top of international headlines, but when Aishwarya Rai walks the red carpet at Cannes, the world sits up to take notice. Such is the power of our celebrities. Beauty over politically- flung footwear.

At the moment, we're shooting for episodes for a Bollywood show for the Zee network. We interview stars about their films. It's perhaps the first show , where I'm forced (by the show's format) to ask questions about the script,film,scenes (yawn!) and other things related directly to the movie making process. And yet somehow actors tirelessly repeat amusing stories about the process of putting together that film interview after interview. The very latest was a story about how a scene had to stop because a cow began giving birth on set! The film in question being My friend Pinto, the actors in question....were very amused!

I like that i have access to some of the most coveted people in this country. And i like that, I know some of them really well. Because the nicest moments are when the camera isn't rolling. Then it's just a bunch of young people having fun... and that's always a super thing!

P! :)

Air hostess, air hostiles!

2011-06-22T17:42:00.001-07:00

“They’re not air hostesses, they’re air hostiles!”

And so it began. The journey from Mumbai to Toronto for IIFA 2011.

Air India might not be your airline of choice for the terrible word-of-mouth they’ve got over the years. You almost imagine air hostiles (kinda love that term) flinging shoes at you, refusing as much as a glass of water and pretty much threatening to throwing you out , should you ask them to get you anything. God forbid, THAT’S not their job.

Oh wait, it is! Only no one’s told them.

No such drama on this flight though. I hate to admit it, but this Air India flight is a revelation. But I’ll get to the good part in a bit. Gotta check-in first.

I am greeted by a woman at the counter. Mid forties, usual grumpy -ground staff demeanor with a I-can’t-believe-I’m-still-doing-this written all over her face kinda thing. You get the picture.

“Put your bag with handle upside..so it is easy for me to put tag”

I don’t comply. Quite frankly coz it’s hard to understand someone who’s juggling (what I imagine) to be around half a gallon of spit with a pen, all in the same deep cavity called the human mouth.

“Handle up,” she frowns at this point. Enough to let me know that this woman isn’t going to take too kindly to me listening to Colin Hay while I check in. Ear phones out, she has my full attention by this point.

*indescribable mumble

I now have someone from the IIFA team who’s come to my rescue, put the handle in a position that finds the approval of the check- in lady, who as I now understand must have been am army general in a previous life. She certainly has the talent to say “Here’s your boarding pass” with just about the same ferocity as “I’m gonna kill you, you mother F$%^#ng twat”

“Yes Ma’am”, I say. Partly obeying orders, partly smiling. Partly scared I’ve overstepped rank.

Oddly enough I see a sight most travelers may conclude is mythical. She smiles... and asks me to have a good flight. (it’s still an order, of course.)

And I really do!

I’m unsure of why Air India has such bad press. The flight is great. Service is wonderful. The air hostesses are anything but hostile, in fact if anything at all I might break out into a hugging spree when I’m getting off the plane!They’ve been fantastic. Sure there’s Sridevi (minus make up) walking around with hubby Boney in tow…but I can’t blame Air India for that. Can I now?

I’m lucky to be traveling with someone I’ve known for years but never hung out with. I ran into him literally five and three quarter steps away from the plane and then realized on boarding we’re sitting next to each other. In theory he has potential to be a friend. In practice I wouldn’t know because talking to someone who’s asleep 12 out of 16 hours on a flight usually yields very little result. Believe me, I’ve tried!

Anyway, to a happy trip now. Will keep you guys posted on what’s happening at IIFA 2011. You know where to look for that information.

Why I'm not a political mastermind..

2011-05-22T05:49:00.001-07:00

To say that my interest in politics is limited, may only be an understatement. To say that my understanding of politics isn't up to par, might be spot on though.

I find myself mildly amused when I read headlines about Rahul Gandhi being arrested and rumors of Shilpa Shetty being pregnant, all on the same web page. It might strike you as being ironic, but if news pages aren't talking about the fact that Aishwarya got her Cannes fashion right (finally!), they're talking about the fact that Ratan Tata is taking potshots at Anil Ambani for being in a billion dollar mansion in the heart of a slum infested city. Can you blame me then for not paying too much attention to the other news items about the farmer's of Bhatta Parsaul?

Like many of my peers from Bombay (and I insist on calling it that because that's how I've ever known this city) I might be largely disconnected from the world of Indian politics. When I meet my cousins in Simla, they're a lil more inclined towards knowing which party might come to power in their state. In Maharastra however, as long as political goons aren't ransacking a stadium or a pub or beating up autowallas for some strange agenda that makes them only increasingly unpopular, it's hard to find traces of politics in daily life. Thank god.

The spectrum scam has dominated headlines for months now. And while many hundred crores may have exchanged hands during the 2G scam that landed several in trouble while some others continue to hide ...I don't understand why I'm STILL unable to make 3G video calls from my vodafone number. If you call THAT a political question, then I probably ask a lot more of those everyday.

I'm not sure if politics disinterests me or the fact that politics in this country simply equates corruption, is what has put me off altogether. I admit, when the American elections are on, I'm glued to CNN for absolutely no apparent reason. I'm sure they have their political filth, but that usually comes in the form of stained underwear and glamourous vice presidential candidates who make for great reality tv when not elected to office. I don't see Mamta Banerjee being half as exciting if a crew from TLC decided to follow her on a reality show, like they did Sarah Palin. It's a good thing we're not about to find out .

It was only last year that we were shooting in Gandhinagar during Dandiya that I had a brief encounter with Narendra Modi. In my head he's everything that's wrong with Indian politics. The fact that he's not only glorified, but also in power in a state that's possibly suffered the most because of religion in this country is what completely baffles me. I have to admit though, the man's got style. A state function in Gujarat might resemble something that Wizcraft may have planned. And you can call him anti secular all you want, the fact is Gujarat is planned, cleaner and the infrastructure is to be envied. I can see how people are willing to put the past behind.

I'm glad I don't need to understand politics in this country. And I'm glad I live in a city which is largely self governing. If my life depended on making sense of politics, I'd be in heaven by now , far from politicians who'd be in a whole different sphere!

If however someone deconstructs it and makes a cartoon strip of the whole mess and emails it to me, I'd gladly read. It is the best reality tv after all.

Paras!

From Breast massager to the Fluffer?!

2011-05-20T22:03:00.000-07:00

Yeah I bet that title got your attention. And why wouldn't it?

To be fair, the breast massager, may have started out with the intention of helping lactating mothers ease the process of...well lactation. But we all know what pervy minds like you and me are thinking. Turns out some other residents in Shanghai (where this issue was being errrr...handled) weren't too thrilled about men handling the breasts of new mothers. The fact that these "masseurs" were charging anywhere between $50 to $70 an hour to nurse new mommy's boobies in a "scientific" way..just seemed like a slap on the face to the fathers who were actually paying to have another man fondle the mother of their new borns!

To put this in perspective... man squeezes breasts (for an hour!), gets paid $50. No wonder the Indian rate of unemployment is so high...we dont have these lucrative options. And while the Boob massager might definitely be on the list of "most desirable professions" for most men... women have done something similar for ages in an effort to add a certain, well, stiffness to that wonderful art form we boys call pornography.

You see the penis has a mind of it's own. Excitement barely ever lasts as long as one would want it to. And if the penis in question is attached to a pornstar, chances are it's being over worked. The most exciting of propositions, threesomes, plots, sub plots, role playing etc can seem tiring beyond a point...and if you're a male pornstar (an occupation most boys have dreamed of at some point!), chances are..you might need a hand .

Enter the fluffer. A job so "hands on" it'll make your palms sweat. The job of the fluffer is simple.. keep the pornstars erection intact. IF the flag is at full mast, you can collect your cheque. And while this might come with a certain degree of health risk, not to mention some rather embarrassing moments during filming...it also comes with pay cheque ranging from $35 an hour to $200 a day. I'm sure your bringing out your calculators just about now to figure that an average monthly salary of the fluffer is about $6000 (that translates to about two lakh seventy thousand INR) For the second time today, I clearly have your attention now!

No job's big or small. In the case of the fluffer, the tool..just might be. Incase you come face to face with a fluffer my advice is , stay clear of questions like "do you spit or swallow", "wow, that's quite a mouthful", and "can you fit a sword in your mouth"...and you should be alright.

Paras!

Blah episode. Fun with pictures!

2010-08-01T12:51:00.000-07:00

Things people say!

2010-07-08T03:47:00.000-07:00

Picture a fat punjabi aunty in loud clothes with a lil nerd boy of about eleven years by her side.

He's picked out a pair of shoes he likes, she's trying to haggle.

"Bhaiya..hum humesha sirf lactose shoes hi pehente hain.. theek theek price lagao!"

And I'm already ROFL! Only I can't actually do it, or she'll smack me with her blingy hand bag!

While the poor dukaandaar at sarojini market kept a straight face thru the "lactose"... I was amused! When i narrated the story to my colleagues, one was quick to say.. "you've scripted this!". To think, I wish i had!

It's hardly the first time a faux pas of this sort has been witnessed. or well, FOX PASS as we jokingly call it! A sweet gym trainer in delhi was playing with his iphone and I asked him a simple question which took a rather dramatic turn. "which version are you using?". He laughed as i continued doing some abdominal crunches, leaving me confused. Then again, it's standard response. Don't understand something, laugh and exit frame. I thought that's what he did...until he returned a while later and said.. "shaadi ke pehle toh virgin hi honge naa sir!".

It was my turn, to first be very confused (because i had no idea what he was talking about!), then later amused..(because i realized he thought version was virgin!). It's almost like he's decided to gimme a lil gem on each visit. This visit to delhi, I was on the treadmill when he came over to say hello."You're looking very fresh," I said pointing out the obvious. "Fresher kahaan sir.. dus saal se gymming kar raha hoon!". Mental giggle! Again, he is a very sweet guy...and i noticed he simply catches a word or a phrase from a sentence and then goes on talking! on the bright side, there's never a dull moment in the gym!

Good times!

P! :)

Blah!

2010-07-03T16:35:00.001-07:00

Only a few episodes old, and its already my favorite show on tv! That I anchor the show, may only be clouding my judgement slightly, but that doesn't take away from the fact that BLAH is after all, a fun show!

Watch Blah! Saturdays 11 pm and Sundays at 8.30 pm on Headlines Today!

:) Paras!

The wedding!

2010-04-17T01:44:00.000-07:00

I admit its crazy!

But it's not crazy because the channels want to intrude the wedding of Sania and Shoaibh. It's crazy because just about anything on the Shoania (as Headlines today insists on calling them!) seems to be getting whats called in the business "numbers".

English translation: it's selling!

Their house in hyderabad is nothing more than ordinary. If this country had produced more female tennis stars, there's a good chance that our dear Sania wouldn't merit this much attention. And had shoaib mirza been blessed with that thing called common sense, he probably wouldn't have married Ayesha (appajan or begum still unclear!) on the phone)

I mean ..what could possibly be the circumstance that would make a couple get married on the phone. Green card, yes. Citizenship, yes. Want- to -indulge- in- fraud- and- need - to - be- married- for- it, yes. But other than that, which couple in agrreable mental health want to commit to each other for the rest of their life over the phone. what if the networks bad? What if the call gets disconnected after the second quabool...What if you've accidentally dialled the wrong number?!!!! Haha! or is that exactly what happened?

I have to admit, When this thing started, I was convinced the Ayesha woman was a fraud. Seeing it through the end, I'm convinced it's not that she's cunning, it's that he's nothing short of stupid! She'd my wife (he said in archive interviews), who is she (he said on live tv), she's like my appajan (he said soon after), talaq talaq talaq (he said fially putting it all to an end. So what if he did divorce his "sister"!

Call us pessimists, but none of my colleagues from the media seem to give this wedding more than a year. Some whose marital lives aren't going particularly well are willing to even trim it down to 6 months. Theories even include "Sania's doing this because she has tax liabilities and she needs to show expenses. Enter 15 crores settlement) Personally, I find that preposterous. You hire a good CA to file returns and evade tax, you don't get married! And certainly not in the same jewelry you wore for your first engagement that broke off!

The media's milked this cow, (no , no..not ayesha!) dry... but something tells me we really didnt get the true story. Somewhere between the out of court settlement and the speculation, money changed hands...and the story lost!

Aah well! atleast the two will get to hump their hearts out now that they're married and not have to worry about another Fatwa!

MY superhero denims!

2010-04-12T20:56:00.000-07:00

You know the feeling.

Your favorite pair of denims is beginning to wear out and that t shirt you love so much is beginning to fade. In a perfect world you'd be able to go out and buy another pair just like it in a flash. Only it isn't a perfect world and the sartorial god isn't on your side. Not today, atleast!

My GAS denims have been with me for long. At about twelve and a half grand , sure they were a stretch, but when you consider the fact that I paid about 1500 rupees for them, the deal doesn't seem so bad! How? Don't ask!

Now, these are no ordinary denims mind you. They are Uv protective. They come with a temperature control option and they have a unique florescent gel that can help forest rangers track me, should I get lost on a trek in the jungle. uhh..ok , quit rolling your eyes. Truth be told, these denims can do no such thing, heck... no denims do! but the one thing that makes them soooo good is a fantastic fit! And trust me, that's a novelty!

Now, if your wondering what's preventing me from buying exactly the fit, shade, size blah blah... problem is GAS in India has shut shop (pun intended) ..and what only began as a dillema about denims is soon going to extend to t-shirts and what not.

Imagine tees that make you look like your in shape, when you actually aren't. Fabric designed to conceal donuts and brownies oh my! What am I going to do when these things begin to wither away? Why can't good clothes last forever. Why, god, why!?

P! ;)

Weeding it out

2009-11-29T04:57:00.000-08:00

The weed didn't choose to be a weed. It didn't choose to grow in a pot that already had a more desirable plant in it. The wind just carried its seed there. It had no choice but to grow. Unwanted. It only tried to live. Drank it's nourishment from the soil. Basked in the glory of the sun. That it slowly began killing the other plant, the one that was potted with love, was perhaps not intentional. Or was it?

Is it the weeds fault that its a weed? Perhaps not. Would it be a better living being if it didn't kill the other plant in the bargain? But then it wouldn't have fulfilled the job of a weed, would it now?

I don't feel great pulling out the weed. But it IS killing the other plant. One that was a vibrant red, and flourished merrily in the first few months is beginning to look more and more frail now. It's space being taken over by another being. Its water being absorbed before it can get to it. The rays of the sun being blocked by the tall stems of the weed. The parasite.

We simply plant the unwanted guest in another pot. The weed didn't choose to be a weed, after all.

Of glasses and more.

2009-11-26T04:42:00.000-08:00

I wonder sometimes about the glass being half empty or half full. Not because I’m trying to figure where I stand on the optimistic scale…but because I’d like to know which way I would’ve seen it if I didn’t know the psychobabble behind it. Who doesn’t?!

I’d like to think of myself as a positive person. Heck, I think I might even be tipping dangerously towards the “its all going to be great” side of the scale. The tarot deck might refer to it as “the fool”, a card I get very often in my readings. It’s the image of a boy walking merrily, not knowing he’s standing at the very end of a cliff. He couldn’t care less though. Between gravity and good karma, it’s karma that always wins and his chances of falling head first are one in infinity.

I remember reading in ‘the secret life of bees’, that people start out one way but don’t often turn out the same. True. I’ve always believed that things have a way of working out. And part of that belief has come from the fact that it’s something that’s always happened. I’m not sure how, but it always has.

Back to the half full glass, or half empty, is it?

When I racked my pretty lil brains about who this experiment might possibly work on…the answer flat out was ‘anyone who doesn’t know about the theory’. Like duh. Problem is… its one of the first few things you learn about life when you do personality tests or Type A or type B tests and what not. (I’m type A if I remember correctly). It’s a trick question that everyone knows the answer to. Doesn’t seem so tricky then, does it? If by some stroke of genius you did manage to catch a child before someone spoiled the fun by telling him the rationale behind this lil trick, I don’t even know if his or her vocabulary would be enough to render the experiment conclusive. Assuming our bright little lab rat says “where’s the rest of the water?”..does it mean he’s wildly upset about the glass not being full or curious when it will be. I know, makes no sense to me either.

Now whenever I’m taking one of these fun personality quizzes (they never get old, really.). Are you a born millionaire? Are you a good lover? Are you the life of the party? Do you have a penis that all other men envy, …kinda tests…you’ve already figured by the third question which of the a) b) or c) is going to give you the desired personality type. And if they’ve been clever enough to not make the results that apparent…one picks the most flattering ones anyway.

A part of me wants to erase the knowledge of the full glass test. In another life perhaps I’d object wildly if anyone even tried to educate me on the matter before I could take an unbiased test myself. Since that’s not about to happen anytime soon, unless a wave of amnesia hits me ( and here I sincerely hope it doesn’t), I’m going to continue being the fool from the tarot deck who might be innocent, but is atleast in the able hands of his dear friend. Fate.

Out, in the open!

2009-05-25T22:25:00.000-07:00

We’re sitting by the river Satluj. My cousins, my aunt and I. We’ve come to this exact same spot by the river on my last trip a few months ago. And since then, we’ve longed to come back. On this trip we’re trying to relive the same excitement. If life were a formula…we’d attempted to do all the things from our previous trip…taking pictures, playing Dog and the Bone, Kabbadi…a lil trek. But for some reason…it just isn’t as much fun as the last time. Formulas don’t work for real life.

We’re now sitting by the river. Dipping the bottle of warm Mountain Dew in the cold ripples of the Satluj. The water is so cold..that we’re bound to enjoy a cool beverage if we wait a while. The exact opposite is happening with the bottles of water that we’ve carried…that have frozen in the ice box! The water is frozen…so can’t be drunk…the mountain dew too warm. In time, they’ll both be just right.

To kill time we eat the junk food we’ve carried. Some chips and peanuts. This is no time to count calories. Carefully carrying back the wrappers with us. My cousins have a little spat and the boy takes some time out to go sit alone. It’s my job to go get him. He comes. Minutes later he hits his sister like he often does. She cries. She’s consoled…the game is back on track. My aunt is sitting on a big rock. Her pink outfit against the dark rock. The digital camera and the zoom on it..is keeping her amused.

Then it happens. I ask Daisy, my cousin if she wants to chant here. By the river, in the open, under the blue sky…the sand beneath us. She agrees, a little more readily than I’d have imagined. Soon we’re all chanting….my cousins, my aunt and I. And it is amazing! I’ve never chanted in the open before this. Certainly not by the river with a rock face so big…that we feel ridiculously small. We’re down about a hundred feet from the main road. The sound of our chanting is very easily drowned by the roar of the river. No contest. But six heads, sitting upright with their hands clasped looking towards nothing…catches the attention of two truck drivers. They stand and watch for a few minutes. Amused, but not amused enough to stay too long. They decide to move along. So do we.

The trek back up is fantastic! We’re walking up a dried up waterfall. The rocks are amazing. The thorns are not. I have a few scratches on my legs. Some war wounds and blood stains to earn bragging right back home. We’ll all embellish our stories when we replay the incidents to my grandmum. And if you happen to hear this from my grandmum, don’t be surprised if there’s a crocodile thrown into this story for added effect!

I love it here. I really do. I’m so grateful that I get to take time off whenever I want. And that when I do, I have people to share it with.

C for Cancer

2009-05-07T11:18:00.000-07:00

One in 28 women has breast cancer.

Men can get breast cancer as well.

Club that with the fact that all of us ALREADY have cancer cells in our body...and its enough to make you get seriously worried. In some people these cells mutate. In some others, they decide to not go through all that trouble. You can try the antioxidant diet, green tea, regular workouts and a thin frame...but it doesn't necessarily guarantee that the Big C won't catch you.

Here's the good news though. For everyone one of these facts that had my brain working overtime...there was the reassuring smile of a Nigerian lady called Peace.We were shooting with her for one of our last episodes for the NDTV Good Times show. She's an ad film maker. A mother of two and had to break the news of her cancer to her family. ..As opposed to the other way around. It's been eleven months since she first noticed a lump on her breast and realized she was already on stage 3....today chemotherapy is over, her hair is growing back, she's considering a breast reconstruction surgery and is throwing a reeeeeeally big party when she goes back home. Her spirit will move you...and if that doesn't give you strength...really nothing else can!

Unfortunately for me, I'm a hypochondriac. If I hear of a new disease..I think I have it. My organs conspire with my brain to make me feel some severe pain in and around the organ that the disease attacks..and I'm instantly imagining the worst! You can imagine my surprise then, when I was listening to Peace...asking Dr Sarin, who's a cancer surgeon about how bad chemo is really..and telling myself...'its no cakewalk..but it doesn't mean the end'.

Really, as an anchor, this isn't a show I'm proud of. This show hasn't provided me with the opportunity to just be..and have a ball and use my mind. What it has done though...is teach me so much about medicine, see surgery..and get over the fear of these big fancy sounding diseases. I know that everything will always be fine with me and my body...but if shit hit does the fan...I know i have a mop ready!

....to new friends!

2009-05-04T07:26:00.000-07:00

You travel alone to a new city, the trick though, is to leave with a lot of friends!

Sure, it means having to stretch out of your comfort zone a wee bit...but that's the thrill of it! My month long stay in Delhi has only been fun because of people I've met completely out of the blue! And when I was talking to a friend about all these new additions first to my phone book...and my life, we were quite amazed!

From a young french student who jumped in when I was ordering a juice by saying 'that one no...good..try pineapple....' to the coolest plastic surgeon in the country and his family ...that I so feel a part of, to an Afghani interpreter who volunteers with ailing patients explaining to doctors what they need, to an 18 year old pilot incidentally the youngest one for kingfisher airlines from Delhi (he got his flying license BEFORE his driver's license!!).....my trip has been so cool!

I've had a gym friend who took me out till the wee hours just because I said Delhi was fuck boring....and by 3 am I was begging to be taken back to the hotel because it was all TOOOO alive for my taste! Can you imagine...if I hadn't been shooting, or gymming, or just buying juice...my path would never cross theirs and I'd never have learnt all the stuff that I have!

Here's what I reaaaaly like about meeting random people and making friends..See, if you and I were working together...we're thrown into a situation. We might get along great...or not. But that relationship (sweet or sour) comes out of that situation. It wasn't voluntary when it began. On the other hand..when you walk up to a total stranger and start a conversation...they have no obligation what-so-ever to continue the chat, humor you, or even keep in touch! Now, THAT'S what I love! Isn't it great to know that you can form a bond with just about anyone instantly....!

I love it. Think about it. It means you're ALWAYS surrounded by friends..you just dont know them yet!! Make it happen ;)

Brain surgery!

2009-04-27T22:14:00.000-07:00

Watching someone's skull being cracked open isn't exactly dinner and a movie. But I'd pay good money to watch it happen! Now, before you hop, skip and jump to conclusions about me being a freak and what not...it's only fair I tell you why!

We're in the operating room at the Apollo hospital in New Delhi, and cool cat Dr. Rajendra Prasad is removing a tumor from a patient of his. We happen to be given access because we're shooting for a series called Apollo 11 for our friends at NDTV Good Times. And watching a grinder saw through a skull and the scalp being folded back to expose a squiggly mass called the brain, are just perks of the job! I'm surprised how my brain is reacting to seeing another one of its kind being worked on. I'm not shocked, unlike my producer... I'm not squeamish, I'm actually fascinated.

The patient is face down on the operating table...his entire body covered in the green hospital cover, only part of his skull is exposed. And that perhaps the reason its so easy to leave your emotions in your back pocket while you simple stand, look in awe...and see how we've managed to understand our bodies so well...that we can actually fix these issues!

Here's the reason I took such liking to putting on a pair of scrubs and stepping into the OT from time to time and see wassup. For one thing we all associate surgeries with a lot of pain and discomfort. Sure it isn't exactly like a peck on a cheek, but the pain isn't as bad (or as horrible) as one might imagine. And that idea was reiterated each time we ran into a patient after the operation and they were roaming around like nothing big really happened! Sure, none of us want these things to happen...but if shit does hit the roof.....bring out the vacuum cleaner, and head to the hospital.

It's only brain surgery afterall, not rocket science! ;)

Fire or flowing water?!

2009-03-14T10:59:00.000-07:00

You're having a casual chat with a friend of yours, about nothing in particular...but that's what makes it so beautiful. In those moments, words are exchanged, things are said... and you've generally had a nice time. Here's the most beautiful part though... once the friend is gone, the coffee has been taken away (or warm water.. if like me you don't fancy coffee or tea) somethings come back to you. And you have your 'Aah! what a wonderful thing that was' moment!

Most of my epiphanies come to me when I'm in the shower. Funny how soap and lather and generally touching myself inappropriately helps open my mind! A friend of mine was telling me about the intensity that chanting requires... Her philosophy used flowing water and fire as analogies.

Fire dies out quickly. Sure, its intense for the moments it burns...but it withers soon. To put it in perspective, I'd rather have a 20 watt bulb burning through the night in my room rather than have a 1000 wt bulb burn for ten minutes and have me bumping into furniture all night!

Low voltage bulbs aside, I realised very often in my own life...I've wanted things too fast without really asking myself 'can i sustain this?'. Sure I could be over 5 channels doing rubbish shows and make money now...but is that going to serve my larger good. Do I want longevity or am I satisfied with exposing all my potential now and keeping no reserves for later?

My choice is flowing water. There's really no right or wrong here. Its where you take your life. I want to grow, meander, touch places and plains I hadn't imagined. Slow down if my life hits a village that's beautiful to enjoy its country side, and speed up if life isn't offering me much somewhere. But I MUST KEEP FLOWING! Because if i burn too soon, rather if i don't flow... I'll never reach the ocean. I want to.

MY 'Challenges'

2009-03-10T12:22:00.000-07:00

Its something a friend has been saying over and over again and it's beginning to become an inner voice for me. 'Every second you're creating karma...', he says...and I couldn't agree more.

I know it sounds like a lie when you look yourself in the eye and tell the mirror...'You're fine.' I know it seems like a lie when you begin to tell yourself that you have the strength to face it all. You know you're lying. But here's the most wonderful thing... faith, like much else is easy to fake. Like they say, if you tell yourself a lie over and over...you'll believe its the truth.

My setbacks are not roadblocks. My sorrows, grief, disappointments aren't coming in the way of my progress...they are challenges. They're the bitter sweet instrument to teach me the fine art of living, to teach me to enjoy and cherish my life when it finally does blossom to its fullest. It'll get there. Soon.

I know its easy to get caught up in the moment. Some of us deal with these challenges with rage, some pretend like it doesn't bother us, some turn to friends for comfort..some of us might even drown ourselves in the bottomless ocean of self pity...here's the learning though.. no one can pull you out until YOU are ready to be pulled out.

My way is to smile. I think a little part of me has begun to believe that I can trick my mind. When you tell yourself the lie about being happy over and over again...you do begin to believe it! And that...for me ...has become the trump card to face these 'challenges'.

Really, its all in the fucking mind... one moment the damn thing is down and out..and in the second instant it sees hope..and just when you hit rock bottom.. you hear the words 'it can only get better from here', and you smile!

Best part, you're not even faking this one!

Of kings and Queens

2009-02-22T04:34:00.000-08:00

I remember as a child playing in the corridors of the palace. The palace itself, a wooden fortress, in the small town of kumarsain was a matter of pride for my cousins. My nani, was raised pretty much by Raja Badhyar singh, because he made a promise to my great grand dad by his death bed…that his wife and daughter would be looked after.

Now, this may sound like its straight out of a movie about jaydaad, and vaaris and what not..but my grand dad, in all seriousness took the raja’s vachan….and that’s the reason why the raja himself found a match for my nani in a 16 year old orphaned lad, Charandas mahant. She was 12..and remembers playing marbles with him, Only they didn’t use marbles…they used walnuts….from their own tree mind you!

You can see then, how this palace was important to my family. My nani’s grown up there, my own mum (the hottest 38 year old the world ever lost) ran about in the palace and my 12 and 13 year old cousins..until very recently studied in the palace foyer. A part of it was converted to a school.

I remember seeing the palace last year when we shot on the palace steps. A large part of my cousins and aunts and uncles, nani in the centre…posing for a family picture. To put it in perspective, this palace, The Hira Mahal…is what the gateway of India is to Bombay. I know, it serves a very inconsequential practical purpose…but it’s a part of its DNA. It’s like the mole I have under my right eye or the one I have on my left shoulder..you might consider it cosmetic….but they’d ask about it if they were identifying me…wouldn’t they?!

It’s in ashes now, this sprawling palace made of deodar wood. A short circuit started a fire that quickly spread through the corridors. The palace was on fire for hours. And the fire brigades that made a futile attempt to reach here from simla and rampur (both 2 hours away) were too late.

It’s in ruins now. A gaping hole at the very centre of the town. If you hadn’t seen it in all its glory, its hard to imagine why anyone would miss this thing really. From the day I arrived here, I’d been wanting to go in. I finally did manage to climb over the burnt wood, hoping it wouldn’t give way and send me tumbling down about 20 feet. My cousins followed me in, but only slightly. The main courtyard is massive. I remember going in once with mum to meet her friend, the princess. Now, I only saw an empty wooden chest which agreeably might have been full of riches at a time. The tulsi plant at the very centre has managed to come back to life, Kumarsain’s very own phoenix.. and the wooden steps that lead to the raja’s personal chamber are intact. I climbed down. Scared of the legend that the Raja’s spirit still lives here. Curious to see if he will greet me. Hoping he wouldn’t!

I’m not sure what this did for me. But I feel at peace. The place makes me sad every time I see it. And it scares me because my own aunts and uncles have heard shrill sounds of crying late at night from the ruins. I’m not sure if it’s true…one part of me hopes it is.

The palace has gone from being fact to legend. And legends are only complete with ghosts. I’m hoping for one here. The stories then, will live on. A part of the palace, with it.

Small town blues

2009-02-17T09:41:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure you'll really understand this until you're in this situation...but for some strange reason...my cousin and me had been yeeeeeeearning to have ice cream for a long time while a little north from simla.

To put things in perspective, in the city...everything is available everywhere all year round. I'm talking about a place where ...asking for bottled water might be too much. And I'm not making this up, i was told water is "off season" when i asked for packaged water at atleast six stores in kumarsain! Apparently, people don't drink water in winters...and certainly not from a sealed bottle!

You can imagine our delight then, at holding three yummy baskin n robins cones in our hands! We even shamelessly asked the woman at the counter to take a snap shot of us eating the damn thing. She was more than amused! The ice cream...heaven!

It's fun living away from the city from time to time. it's good to take a break. But honestly, i do enjoy picking up boxes of cereal without having to check expiry dates...or eating stuff at 2 am..or ...you know ..doing other things you do all the time in the city. Bombay needs me. I can feel it more than ever! How the city survived without me for more than a month, i cannot imagine...but the saviour, ladies and gentlemen, is back!! haha!! ;)
P!

Roadtrip...in a bus!

2009-01-24T09:58:00.000-08:00

My bag is stuffed beneath my seat. It's a big bag mind you. My legs are bent and resting on the bag..I'm sitting next to a guy I just met at the Chandigarh bus station. And he's possibly the reason I'm feeling ok...in the first place!

After a shoot in Patiala for CNN IBN, I'd decided to head to Kumarsain (about 80 kms) from simla where my mum's family is. While the notion of going to the hills might be romantic, the road that leads there definitely isn't! And if the dusty roads weren't an issue, the state transport buses hit you in the ass like a fucking hard baseball bat! The pain in my ass at the moment, was the himachal transport bus that I had boarded in Chandigarh.
It was probably my state of complete confusion, the lost look on my face, of just the sheer desperation in trying to find an easy way to reach simla from chandigarh..that probably let Jitendra to encourage the conversation i'd first begun. Long story short, after wondering if we should take a cab for 1500 as opposed to a bus for 100 a passenger...the vote was clear. Now we were sitting on the second row behind the driver with the sign "you can do online BOKING" with us. As they say, if you stare at something long enough..you think its right...and i'm really beginning to wonder if the word booking has two o's..or is it indeed boking!?

The guy was as cool as they get. He was on his way to attend a course in simla he knew nothing about. He didn't know how many days it would last, or what it would teach him...he didn't even know where exactly it was in simla...what he knew though...that he was on his way! Adventurous... you bet!

After discussion finances and interesting ways to make money and sharing our ideas on entrepreneurship vs being an employee...our chat had strayed into the area of ghosts, god and of course personal experiences. My stories always get juicer with every narration. I expect that others embellish theirs as well.

Our man began telling me all about aghoras that are these tantrics who do strange things to break from the cycle and death and birth. Our chat continued despite men furiously digging their noses. Bumps that i feel now, but i didnt...then. And ofcourse even as we passed places called fagu and matiana (which i would ordinarily laugh at) and amusingly enough a place called nanni..when i was on my way to see my..naani ;)

It's easy to make friends of course.. through the course of this journey, we'd both trusted each other with our luggage and wandered off several times...and at the end of it all..really we were n no hurry to reach because the chat about Aghoras wasn't over. Well we did. And now i can't wait to pick up the book. I like the idea of travelling with a friend. The trick though..if you don't start your journey with one...make sure you at least finish with one.

P!

Marry a Tree?!!

2009-01-07T11:03:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately we're at that ripe age where our parents seem most excited about the proposition of getting rid of us. The Hindu tradition, out of sheer politeness, calls it marriage. While some of my friend's parents have managed to shoo their kids away to another home...some others...are relentlessly trying!

I was chatting with a dear old friend of mine..who's parents are hell bent on finding her a match. Ofcourse...they have to find a whole other set of parents who'll be willing to take a bride...who's already married...and to make matters worse...to a tree! She's Manglik ofcourse.

Yes, I know Aishwarya Rai comes to mind because she had to marry a peepal tree...before she became the Bachchan bahu. But isn't she Mrs Peepal first!!?

Here our some questions we came up with..in this conversations about trees, peepal, people and ofcourse strange peepal people.

1) Why a tree?

2) Why a peepal tree?

3) Does the marriage stand 'null and void' in law, if the tree is not peepal?

4) Who was the smart ass who said...any other tree is just not good enough!

5) Doesnt a peepal tree in Hindu philosophy denote a Saadhu..who is NOT SUPPOSED TO MARRY TO BEGIN WITH!

6) What happens if the tree you're marrying is already married to someone else?!

7) How come its always the girl who has gotta do this?

8) How come no other religion has mangliks.. or do they call it something else and marry people off to canisters, garbage cans, coconuts, sheep, crabs and toilet bowls?!

9) A marriage stands to be annulled if not consummated right...? Do they expect you to 'do it' with a tree while your human husband- to -be watches and waits his turn!!!!

10) I'm sure you have a question or two!!

New year hooplah!

2009-01-02T22:50:00.000-08:00

Some tibetan food, some choco chip ice cream. A few hugs exchanged ...and it was new year already!

It seemed a trifle low key compared to the past few years of doing live links on new years eve.... but it wasn't bad. The lack of traffic, I liked. The lack of enthusiasm, I could've done without.

I'm not sure what it is about a new year thats so easy to write off as "just another day" and yet so hard to really treat as...you know, just another day!

All the cliches.... what-you-do-today-is-what-you-will-do-the-whole-year....for instance, I fall right into them..every year!

So, I don't fight with anyone on the 1st, I workout (fitness all year sounds good), I usually pray for a bit...and oh yes I always try and be happy (it is the new year afterall....yippie yay!)

I started my new year this time...waking up with three of my close friends. Quickly passing them all some breath spray. Going out for an uddipi breakfast...(we realised later that NONE of us had gone to the loo!) and the first "acitivity" we did in the new year was...hold your breath- shopping.

I was told there was some sort of handicrafts exhibition that was on at powai....and soon enough we were all driving there. Not that we needed anything really, but when has that ever stopped anyone from spending money on things you don't need, wont use!

Some bed spreads (now i know they're different from bed sheets!), a neti pot, some glass thingees, a lamp, some churan golis, cushion covers....when i finally got back home with all the bags...i really couldn't help but wonder...WHERE THE FUCK AM I GOING TO PUT ALL THIS STUFF!

Here's my question though..

am i going to spend the entire year.....

a) spending money?

b) doing things that are just giving me some sort of joy..

c) just breezing past a crowded bazaar (and im really going in for metaphor here!) and smile my way past people i meet and stop at the right one's who reeeally have something to offer

Move over!

2008-12-17T12:45:00.000-08:00

When do you finally say "this person is NOT welcome in my life anymore?"
I have so many friends really. I pride myself on my ability to meet random people, connect with people instantly and make friends. There's nothing like just bumping into a total stranger and discovering so much about people you may otherwise have just passed by.

I must confess, i even considered a project where I'd make it a point to meet one new person each day and the idea wasn't simply to learn about them..but was also to learn FROM them...and there's enough stuff to go around..learning wise!

Stage 2: You begin to value people. They become a part of your life. They add themselves, with your consent of course, to the people who already exist in your world...some you're born with...some ,you gather on your way...and some people..who become your pillars of support.

I've had my share of falling out with friends to know that one thing doesn't change. You always need someone to fall back on. You always, in other words, need support. Your pillars, however, change from time to time. And you begin to do without the old...and immerse yourself, strengthen your self with your new.

When do you say ..enough is enough? At what point do things like 'meeting mid-way', or 'compromising' become so overwhelming that you have to really ask yourself...is this person really worth it? Brother, sister, girl friend, boy friend, husband , wife, father.......... no matter what the relationship... if someone doesn't make you feel good about who you are...something isn't right!

I'm all for criticism really. It's often only your closest who have the key to your heart. The right to put you on a pedestal and the right to bring you back to earth. And then there are those...who seem to consistently bring you down. Pull you apart..and begin to make YOU question your self worth. THAT is what I've learnt to be weary of!

How long is too long...to give it a fair chance. And at what point can you really, honestly...turn back and say.... i think i've given it my best shot..now, it's really not worth it!?

p!

Swing it!

2008-11-26T01:56:00.000-08:00

So, I swung the other way! And I have to say I'm liking the change! It means feeling up a whole new set of things with different fingers..but I'm liking the feel of it so far. The Macbook, as I've now discovered...is better than sex. (ok not really, but you get the drift)

Back to my new operating system and the glowing apple...that i must confess, i hold in front of the mirror from time to time. I'm not sure how, but i think i look very cool (or cooler, shall i say?) with the mac in hand. It's the kind of strange thing most of us do at a shoe store. You try on a pair of new shoes and look at your face in the mirror...as if new soles are going to change your face!

It's really not as complicated as most had me believe. And if you're a google addict like me, you'll find yourself keying in the words "must have programs + mac" faster than you can imagine!

I've discovered you scroll down with two fingers. The Spaces, application is great. I have to download Adium (which combines msn, yahoo, gtalk altogether, stroke of genius really) and the vlc player..because quicktime really isn't very accommodating. I remain slightly in the dark about the substitute for bitlord, my torrent friend that's given me so much stuff to hear and watch over the years. And I'm fondly reminiscing about the days when real player thoughtfully downloaded any youtube video i was planning to watch. I'm sure there's a way to do it on the mac..I'm yet to figure how!