the buddha soliloques

SING OUT LOUD FOR A HEALTHY DEBATE!

2012-02-08T13:54:00.001+05:30

Wouldn't you agree if I told you that the bathroom is the best place to sing a song? What with the intimate comfort of the space, the unmatchable acoustics & the chill/warmth of the shower/bucket bath as you polish your set of pipes: this is where I first thought I could sing!!! (And, I'm sure, so have many of you). Ask me to sing off-hand & I might hesistate. Put me on stage or stand outside my bathroom door & you'll hear a different me. This was the place where I did most of my riyaaz before going for the Indian Idol auditions! This is the spot where in hotels around the world, I find my solace before going on stage or in the recording studio.

However, a bathroom can be highly misleading, having you believe that you're better than you actually are! It's quite akin to two hypothetical scenarios in our daily lives:

One: you're a Frog in the well. You're the master of your domain & no one is mightier than thou, because you have no one to compete with & no one to tell you whether you're right or wrong, good or bad.

Two: you're surrounded by people who

love you (and will praise you no matter what. After all, you're the apple of their eye)
loathe you (their praise is spiteful & meant to hinder your progress)
have something to gain from you (will praise even your goofball errors)
are in a compulsive habit of lying or showering excessive praise.

Like a bathroom, all the above scenarios give you absolute comfort & a sense of invincibility. But step out of the bathroom, put yourself out there in front of strangers, in difficult situations and you'll know your true worth. Figuratively speaking, throw yourself into the ocean and then learn how to swim. Yes, it is imperative that you be prepared for what you undertake; it'd be foolhardy not to be. But more often than not, you have to take that risk, that initiative which will set you apart from the crowd. It is also important to periodically conduct a self-check, know where you stand and not get swayed by the strong current of applause. Remember, a 1000000000000 folks will tell you you're good. Only a select few will genuinely point out your flaws so that you can work on them. And one of them should be you!

Listen to all, absorb the worthy and apply the absolutes.

And while you're at it, please do continue singing in the bathroom. Who knows what miracles it might seed ♫♫♫

Picture courtesy: www.pinkkiddo.tumblr.com

*****

There is a reason why it's called a "healthy" debate. When two or more people indulge in dialogue, better ideas emerge amidst a lot of necessary & unnecessary chaos. What we learn by rote in school & college, what we read in the papers and hear on television is all nice & dandy but futile unless we stop accepting everything that's offered to us on a platter and start asking questions out of sheer curiosity. This thought was also sparked by an article dated January 30th 2012 in DNA by Patralekha Chatterjee, and I quote,

"How many schools in (India) encourage their students to look at a subject from multiple perspectives or train them in writing an argumentative essay? It is clear that most schools have little time for this approach. Rarely do young people get an opportunity to examine a subject from multiple, often conflicting points of view before making up their minds."

How true! Build your own questions & also lend an ear to what others have to say. If one has the gift of filtering through the clutter, they inadvertently find humor & viable solutions to the most desperate of situations. Which is why I like reading the responses of readers to articles on various websites. The common citizen has a lot of questions & not surprisingly, many solutions as well. It's always easier to sound someone off & proffer unsolicited advice but one can't deny that some of these solutions are actually very prudent. An article about the deferment of the Ayodhya verdict last year carried reports of how a faction of the nation was weary of the unending conflict and proposed a hospital be built on the disputed site which would be called Ram Janmabhoomi Babri Masjid hospital! Controversial, debatable, but nevertheless an amicable thought. (Of course, India is a democracy & such a decision needs be a democratic one as well, weighing the pros and cons and not, as someone pointed out on the forum, a "rich-o-cratic" one). The point being, would such a suggestion have come without the willingness to have a dialogue? NO, is the answer. Ideas like these might or might not be the panacea we seek, but they are the realisation that there are viable opinions beyond our own. And believe me that when I write these lines to you, I also write them to me, because this is a life lesson we'd do well to imbibe

Phew! Chang Baba seems to have gone into a philosophical overdrive today. I promise the next blog post will be in a lighter vein. Till then, adios & God bless.

RUMINATION, INTROSPECTION, INSPIRATION

2012-01-24T01:23:00.000+05:30

Self-captured, Nalanda

Old age is a crippling situation. I do not mean to imply that it need be pitied. Far from it! I know of many fiercely independent & strong-willed oldies (my grandmother included) who'd put youngsters to shame with their grit & zest for life and would hate to live life as a liability or an extended limb. However, the deterioration of bodily functions that afflicts one in old age is something they cannot fight and that's where they need our love & concern rather than our pity. But what brought about this rumination, you might ask? It was perhaps a series of events involving strangers & loved ones that occurred in the recent past.

Just the other day, an old gentleman collapsed on the street as I was buying breakfast. The generous people of Mumbai came to his aid (as they always do when someone's in need of it, God bless them). High blood pressure, someone said. Low blood sugar, said another. Someone used onion-therapy to bring him to his senses & another rushed to fetch his relatives from the neighbouring street. Yet another person arranged for him to be taken to a Doctor & offered his vehicle for the same. While I couldn't help but marvel at their magnanimity & presence of mind, a vortex of sadness engulfed me to see the helplessness of this old gentleman, shuddering at the thought of what would've happened if this had occurred elsewhere, where help was not so forthcoming.

On the same train of thought, a hospital visit genuinely humbles you. I've studied & worked in a Dental hospital for 6 years and even though it is quite an experience, it does not prepare you for a medical ward, neither as a Doctor nor as a patient. It shows you how massive a responsibility the Doctors carry on their shoulders, how strong a medicine hope is but also how some things are beyond our control. There is absolutely nothing a human being can do against the onset of old age & disease. Which is why I was in a distracted state of mind when I recently took my mother & grandmother to a town-side hospital for a medical check-up. Mercifully, there was nothing to worry about. But just to have to go there is daunting indeed. To see your loved ones who've lived life king-size and on their terms suddenly frail & unsure of how long their bodies can withstand the rigors of daily life is heart-wrenching.

I'm sure you feel the same sometimes. You worry for the aged around you. Which is why I appeal to you to lend a hand. Take care of your elders. The smallest of gestures make them happy beyond anything you can imagine. No matter how melodramatic it sounds, do this good deed! You'll only realise it's value when someone returns the favor in your old age...

*****

My Grandmother with the youngest member of the clan: my cousin Shih-mei

I guess the ruminations above were also initiated by something that happened just the other day. As I shot this series of pictures of my adorable naani & her grand-daughter (and my youngest cousin), I realised what a gift of happiness this moment was for her. With all her children in different cities and me not being to able to spend much time with her either until lately, it is but obvious that she must feel extremely bored & lonely at times. So when we had some relatives visit on us on the occasion of the Chinese New Year, she, like a magician, produced some letters dating back to 1991 written by me to her. Full of crooked letters & innocent banter, they were yellowed but preserved otherwise by her in mint condition, as if posted only yesterday. And then she took out what seemed like folded chits of paper no bigger than conventional post-it notes. There were childlike illustrations of comic book super-heroes, only one on each carefully folded piece of paper. And when she told me the story behind these seemingly innocuous caricatures, I had a tough time holding my tears back.

Apparently, as a child I could sense that my grandmother must get very lonely when the other family-members weren't around. So on one of those vacations in Mumbai, I decided to do something that would help her pass time & brighten her day. I sketched anywhere between 50-80 caricatures on pieces of paper, folded them with an instruction of "open from here" on each and told her that these were to be opened whenever she'd get bored, one for each time when she'd feel the need for company....

Did I really do that for her? I was pleasantly surprised at my childhood capacity for compassion, and deeply embarrassed by the Me who stood there, reading those letters and knowing that I would perhaps never again go out of my way or out of the box to show my love to those near to me. Oh, where have those innocent days gone, when we would give our unconditional love to our elders without expecting anything in return? Where are those days when "I'm very busy right now" would not be used as an excuse? When did work, ambition, money, peers, time-tables, schedules & deadlines become roadblocks in the path of love? And why?

We may be God-fearing people and good people too, but none of us really survive the corruption that engulfs our lives. In this slowly spreading malaise, the biggest casualty is our only defense against moral ambiguity: our innocence. The world is still a beautiful place because of the innocence of children & a handful of good people, and I only hope that it can remain so for the longest time before we forget what it truly means...

*****

Image sourced from the Internet

How inspirational can a basic conversation with certain individuals be? Very, I'd say. The someone in question here is an extremely versatile Indian vocalist who's super-successful & has endless flattering adjectives trailing her illustrious name. And yet, she remains at heart, a child: sharp, smart, ambitious but innocent. You could call us friends, I guess. We have worked & hung out together. But in an industry where everyone is everybody's friend, the lines usually blur and it is tough to separate friends from acquaintances, cling-ons & the yes-men. From a fan's point of view, I have nothing but immense respect & admiration for her. I often wonder how she maintains her humility & composure in the face of gargantuan success & adulation. Which is why, a very basic conversation about life & work in general with her turns out to be anything but banal. It becomes a gift of experiences, anecdotes & lessons, one to be absorbed & applied in life.

Picture by Ritika Mittal, Bodh Gaya

They say you can gauge a person by the way they speak. From the few times I've conversed with her, I'd like to think she's blessed; not only with a voice so strong yet soulful that it sets the tone for any emotion (you already knew that!), but also with good values, earthiness & a love for family and all things simple. Many a talented people lose their way owing to a failure to understand that success is transient and that good karma is the only appropriate beacon in life, hence highlighting the importance of people like her even more. So without sounding too syrupy-sweet in an industry that sustains itself on mutual admiration, I'll end here, wishing there were more like her around. It'd be good to maintain the balance in this make-believe city of Mumbai and a pleasure for the people who have the good fortune of knowing her.

WHAT DOES IT TRULY MEAN?

2011-09-11T19:00:00.000+05:30

Shooting at Sarai Ghat for India's Got Talent

It's amusing how distances take a different meaning in different geographics. Like how travelling half an hour is very far away in a small town or city but is casually dismissed when mentioned in a megapolis like Mumbai where one hour is considered the minimum time to cover a reasonable distance. This rang true when work got me on a short trip to Guwahati a while ago; a chaotic city not unlike my hometown Dhanbad but with the advantage of being accessorized by hills, the mighty Brahmaputra river and a lazy something in the air.

After a hectic day of shooting in the tea gardens, at Sarai-ghaat & around, a sleepless night followed making the rounds of the now absolutely still city to meet my mates. Even though it barely took 30 minutes to move about, time seemed to have painfully stopped in it's tracks, to put it mildly! Nevertheless, I was looking forward to seeing my friends again, some of them schoolmates I'd spent 8 years of my growing-up life with. One would expect sentiments running high, hugs galore & nostalgic stories of the good ol' days. But there was to be none of that. Instead, the air was thick with a "sizing up" that does not & should not exist in friendship. A thick & impenetrable wall reared itself between us that heavy artillery wouldn't get through! I was baffled, to say the least. We promised to keep in touch & meet the next day, but we knew in our hearts that it was not to be.

On the other hand, I later came across a couple of acquaintances who I'd hardly interacted with before and who I am great friends with now. I later went on to make the journey of a lifetime to Nagaland with them, twice. More on that in another post. This unexpected change of dynamics put me in deep thought & introspection about the real meaning of friendship. I'm no philosopher, but in making great friends out of none, and strangers out of some old friends, I guess distances took a different meaning in my life as well. It's aptly stated that the mere time spent together can never be the true measure of friendship. Either there's a spark, or there isn't. We're either meant to ignite, rekindle or stub it out. Sure gives a whole new meaning to the erstwhile jingoism & marketing heavy Friendship Day, doesn't it? And makes you think, who are your true friends, really?

Making great friends out of none: Kasturi & Ritika

*****

The world is as we see it. As children, we're imaginative, outrageous even. And as grown ups, we become smarter but tied down by conventions & the supposed right thing to do. As the flight back home took to the skies & distanced itself from terra-firma, the sun became a hot, bright ball someone tossed into the sky & forgot to bring back; set against the dirty slate of a sky full of dark clouds. Feeling the warmth of this most beautiful sunrise ever, barely a 100 feet above the gloomy clump of ominous rain clouds got me philosophical. The clouds are akin to our troubles; worldly troubles that should be beneath us but bog us down instead. And the sunrise is eternal hope; the burst of optimism we need to look forward to if only we could look beyond our "clouds" that are literally & metaphorically obscuring our sight. The bright yellow of the sun is not merely light, it is a gift of a smile & many joyful, positive thoughts.

Image courtesy - http://buyousef.net

Seat belts strapped, the descent into the destination city mimics a sinking feeling. The pessimist equates this to drowning in life's quagmire once again, but the optimist believes we shall fly again to watch the sunrise. The day we absorb that thought in our person, life will truly be worth it.

****

RECOLLECTIONS & REFLECTIONS

2011-09-01T17:38:00.000+05:30

A fan helped unearth a memory from the deepest recesses of my mind; a memory that now seems like from another lifetime altogether. It comes from a time when choreographer Ganesh Hegde landed up on the sets of Indian Idol 3 as a guest. Those were heady days for me as a contestant who was taking a big risk by switching professions. I nervously confessed to him that I could sing but not dance for nuts, and he encouraged me to just have fun with the "bulb-fixing" & the "tap-closing" steps he proceeded to teach me. That done, I never remotely thought about dancing again. Not until 4 years later, when I was offered to participate in one of the biggest celebrity dance shows on Indian television; Jhalak Dikkhlaa Jaa.

Here I was again, in flashback mode & thinking "All right. Let's just have some fun. No harm in that." But before I had time to gather my bearings, the fun turned into initial disappointments and subsequently into a friendly, yet cut-throat competition. People were getting eliminated even before we'd had time to know each other. To make things worse, I still couldn't dance! But that's when the trust, belief & innovations of my choreographers Marischa & Deepak re-infused life AND the fun-factor into my preparations. No longer did I care about eliminations or points. My only aim was to do justice to what I was being taught. In a few quick weeks, appreciation began to pour in & so did the expectations, work-load & near-nervous breakdowns. Often, it became difficult to tell night from day as we lost count of the number of hours we'd put in practice. Reason often gave way to rage & frustration when things weren't going our way. We celebrated every moral victory and with every setback, we went back to the drawing board

Improvement. Growth. Upward graph. Dark horse. The underdogs. These were terms being used to describe us. And boy, did Marischa really want to win this one!!! Having been part of two earlier seasons, she was in no mood to be content with a runner-up spot this time round. In hindsight, I realize that apart from the lessons learnt from initial setbacks, it was also her hitherto unrequited dream that egged me on to reach for the stars. That's the beauty of team-work, isn't it? You forget everything else, embrace each other & learn to fly!

I remember mentioning in one of my interviews that "in the end, it will boil down to who handles the stress best" and indeed, only the strong-willed improved & survived. Otherwise, what chance did a complete non-dancer like me have against seasoned performers like Yana, Krishna, Ankita & Sushant? I absolutely loved most of their performances & it inspired me to do better. Everyone, from the Judges, co-contestants, choreographers, stylists, reality team, production & post-production team, sound engineers, in-studio staff & many others who I might have forgotten to mention here, were a dream to work with. The amicable atmosphere & the constant encouragement by well-wishers gave me ample opportunity to prove myself and made the sweat & blood seem worth it. Yes, sweat & blood, considering the months of preparation & the numerous injuries incurred.

In the finale, the three finalists who took the stage were broken warriors; down but definitely not out, each with their own motivation & goals. What transpired thereon is common knowledge. Whether the world agrees or disagrees with the end of the story, it remains a thoroughly cherished one. Since the curtains fell on Jhalak Dikhla Jaa Season 4, all of us have moved on with our lives. Deepak is currently teaching the contestants on India's Got Talent & Marischa is conducting dancing workshops in various Indian cities. We still carry fond memories of the time spent together & the profound experiences shared and continue to be good friends.

*****

I don't really believe in horoscopes. But call it co-incidence or otherwise, there are times when your horoscope reads eerily close to what you're going through in real life. We dismiss them as just another way to fill up newspaper columns & our imaginations but yet some of them strike too close to be just that. For example, I was shooting for a horror reality show a year ago which was undoubtedly the most physically & mentally draining experience I've had so far in my life; what with shooting in remote & far-flung locations at the peak of an Indian summer and the lack of the basest of amenities. Add to that, gastropathy & a gargantuan pile of official work back home was eating into my peace of mind. So imagine my surprise when I came across this in my daily horoscope:

"Slow down before you burn out."

Fortunately or unfortunately, my career is on a fast-track that does not give me the liberty to slow down. The show came to an end soon after & I had some time to recover. However, the timing of the horoscope was uncanny & not just a one-off incident. I'm sure you too have had similar experiences to vouch for the verity of daily horoscopes. Too many of them hit bullseye too often to be mere co-incidences. But then again, wouldn't believing in horoscopes be equivalent to being superstitious? Or is there a definite science behind their perceived accuracy? I guess there's really no answer for that.

"I don't believe in superstitions since they bring bad luck."

Anonymous

*****

While shooting for the same show in a remote corner of Goa, Arjumand (the script writer & a dear friend) and I decided to take a walk on the beach. As the sun slowly melted into the sea & our feet sank into the not-so-clean yet soothing sand, we lost ourselves in a conversation about life, our dreams, ambitions, friends, troubles and so on. A lot was said but the most important sentence spoken in that enveloping darkness was:

"Life is about the little things, and not always about riches & career. For one, life is about being able to walk on the sand, unfettered, without a care in the world. We just don't realize it until it's too late"

Food for thought...

WHAT'S NEXT? INDIA'S GOT TALENT!!!

2011-07-29T14:43:00.001+05:30

Press Launch for India's Got Talent Season 3

It's been a couple of months since a wonderful new experience called Jhalak Dikhlaa Jaa happened to me. It taught me much and brought sheer joy & inner satisfaction. All good things do come to an end, and as a wise sage would say, the end of something memorable is always the beginning of something opulent. And the truth in those words shines through once more as I take over the mantle of Host on India's Got Talent Season 3. (www.igt3.in.com)

One of the fastest growing international franchises, this is the Third Season of the Indian leg of the Got Talent series and my first on the show. Needless to say, I'm mighty excited about it, not only because it is new territory but also because this show is grander than what I had assumed at the outset. Made with a lot of love, toil & teamwork, this show is about the hitherto unsung Talent of India from all walks of life and in every size, shape, form & number. In a nutshell, it is a culmination of anything & everything that you would expect (and sometimes not) on a talent show, only much bigger! In Prince Dance Group & Shillong Chamber Choir, the show's had two exceptional winners. And it was in Britain's Got Talent (the British leg of the Got Talent series) that I learnt one of the most inspiring phrases of my life: "Chase the dream, not the competition."

PRINCE DANCE GROUP
WINNERS: Season 1
Picture courtesy: Harish Mohan

SHILLONG CHAMBER CHOIR
WINNERS: Season 2
Picture courtesy www.soundbox.co.in

But hey, don't take my flowery words for it :) WATCH the show & decide for yourself. Watch it for the Judges, watch it for yours' truly (takes a bow) but most importantly, watch it for the culture, colors & indomitable talent this great country has to offer.

Starts 29th July, Friday-Saturday 9 PM on Colors.

OF TRAINS AND BURNING BRIDGES

2011-05-20T12:17:00.000+05:30

Prashant & I aboard the Darjeeling Local, 2009

A friend of mine lives very close to a railway crossing in Mumbai. Local trains whiz by in both directions every few minutes and the never-ending traffic follows suit. While an average Joe would curse his fate for having landed such an apartment for the sheer noise it bears, my friend doesn't mind it much. Having lived there for a number of years, he is accustomed to it & gets anxious when the trains don't pass by regularly (due to bandhs, accidents, water logging and the like). Sometimes, he finds it therapeutic even.

I completely relate to him. In my home town Dhanbad, my folks and I have lived in places barely 100 meters away from a railway line for what now seems like forever. Over the years, our home has changed many times but there has always been a constant: the railway tracks & the perenially chugging trains. As a child, I've watched in awe as mammoth steam-billowing engines have hauled a bevy of bogies & puny-seeming human beings within from one corner of as-far-as-the-eye-can-see to the other. The whistle of the steam engine would have me rushing out to the balcony to marvel at the rampaging metal monster & the black, ominous smoke surging out of it.

I've watched, bemused, as the monster has been humbled more than once; having to grind to a halt as a Holy Cow sauntered across the railway tracks. It's had me in splits when its whistle has scared the living daylights out of a defecating local. It's had me wide-eyed by running over the silver coin I've placed in its path, reducing it to a warm, flattened ellipse. It's made me ask my parents endless silly questions about it. And it's made them answer each silly question with utmost patience. The gentle rocking of the train has often been my lullaby on sweltering, restless nights; the thududd-thududd an assurance that everything is as normal as it can be. These little things had become such an integral part of our lives that on subsequent relocations, my parents specifically looked for homes bearing an intimate proximity to a railway line.

Where I live now, the sights & sounds include a sea of humanity & automobiles, festivities, funerals and what-have-you. Everything but the constant. The memories of the railway lines may nestle in a corner of my mind but my parents still live those memories back home. They live next to one to this day...

*****

Image courtesy: Vogue India

It's a common fashion to disagree with what Sapna Bhavnani has to say, but that doesn't necessarily make her wrong. A firebrand acquaintance, more popularly known as M.S. Dhoni's superstar hair-stylist tweeted this gem recently:

When in doubt, open your mouth & spill it out instead of being a diplomatic hypocrite! Burning bridges ain't that bad. You learn to build new ones.

Yes, it ain't that bad. It ain't that easy burning bridges either when life & peace of mind might depend on it. But what good is a marriage of individuals which takes the joy out of living? Life IS after all a jigsaw of good & bad experiences, and some unplanned risks might very well put the puzzle together. Easier said than done Sapna, but a valid point nevertheless.

A MOMENT TO THINK

2011-01-29T18:49:00.002+05:30

As the end credits rolled down on Dhobi Ghat, I leaned back in the reclining seat & pondered over the 90 minutes just gone by. This was cinema at its simplistic & realistic best, with some very competent work in every aspect being its enduring pillars. This was also a film that felt oddly incomplete. Yet, in its' paucity it remained poignantly beautiful in its apt casting, near-flawless acting, a lilting background score and the brilliantly shot visuals of parts of Mumbai that we might never get to visit in real life. When I moved to Mumbai 4 years ago, I wanted to explore all the tourist destinations without fail. The curious nomad in me even went to the extent of going it alone when friends came up with one excuse or another for not making it. Somewhere down the line, the eagerness has dulled, the excitement now a pale shadow of what it used to be and the fear of being clustered a cardinal deterrent. Was it also this reminiscence of my past in this city; some recent, some long traversed that moved me? Or the fact that I've always been a sucker for hyperlink cinema? Or that I'm finally falling in love with this city?

Some or all of the above could be true. But for all the nostalgia & respect the film aroused, it ended for me in the most filmy manner, undoing some of the good work that had gone before it. However Jolene, a good friend, an astute mind & a self-professed Mumbaiphile, had this to say to convince me otherwise:

The ending seeming filmy could be metaphorical really, a life-goes-on kind of ending; given that the central protagonist has reached a low point in life where he has suffered personal loss, is literally washing the megapolis' dirty linen, realises how bleak his possibility for becoming a movie star is, and is in love with a woman who's intrigued by someone else. So he runs onto the streets, hero-like, overcoming all obstacles, finds her and gifts her the means to drift away from him (a kind of resignation, and also a subtle way of telling her how he feels about her). The end symbolises the true spirit of Mumbai: whatever happens, we move on.

A friend rued the fact that he'd have to watch it again with his wife, another found the depiction of the locations in the film in bad taste. Yet others warned me not to watch it as it was too slow and were aghast to know I already had & had in fact, liked it. Whatever the true intent of the climax may be, the film succeeds in lingering inside you long after you've exited the cozy darkness of the theatre. As I sped on the now empty roads leading back home, something good from Dhobi Ghat remained etched within me. So I say, thank you Kiran Rao, for a real, unique and melancholy experience. May your tribe increase.

*****

Courtesy: Vergessene Traenen

An anonymous reader was irked by my last post, The Chinky Factor. This is what he/she had to say (abridged):

If you are offended by being called Nepali/Manipuri/Malaysian/Chinese, I am offended by the fact that you find it offensive for being mistaken as these races and nationalities. I found "DEROGATORILY", the word you used to describe your emotion for being called as such, unacceptable. How about the fact that you feeling such is not a derogatory remark to these races? You try to come out as a victim here but who is the victim of your words right now? Please think twice before you write such things in your blog.

Wow! I'm glad the post DID evoke this reaction apart from the encouraging ones (much appreciated). However, my dear friend, if you'd check the phrasing of my sentences again carefully, you'll realise that nowhere do I state that I get offended on being mistaken for another race. What I DO take offense to is the tone & intent of malice while being called as such. I'm sure you understand what I mean, being a Nepali yourself. We could make it so much easier by saying that we are human beings & not a clothing line to be differentiated by our origin or price tag after all, but we know it isn't all that simple. No one's trying to be a victim here.The Chinky Factor is a response to a question asked of me many times over, and a hope that someday, things will be different.

*****

And in conclusion, I'd like to thank each & every one of you out there who've showered encouragement for my current dancing stint on Jhalak Dikkhla Jaa. Deep within, post Indian Idol, I knew I would sing, host, act. But dance??? No way! November 2006 in Bangalore was the first & last time before Jhalak that I ever attempted to move my now-not-so-left two feet. Those six sessions of salsa were liberating but also a source of some embarrassment (I was the proverbial tortoise in learning & my partner was none too amused. Needless to say, I never returned for the next batch). Four years on, being pitted against the likes of Yana, Sushant, Krishna et al is surely daunting, but as my dad always says, “Do what you love. And while you're at it, don't forget to have fun!” I am having fun & learning so much, primarily that if you put your mind to it, nothing is impossible. So keep watching and keep the love pouring in :)

THE "CHINKY" FACTOR

2010-12-06T00:03:00.000+05:30

Everyone smiles in the same language. ~Author Unknown

Time & again, well-wishers, admirers or plain curious people have asked me this: Didn't I get offended by the racist chinky jokes made at my expense on Indian Idol, Badmaash Company & the like? This is a tough one to answer, primarily because I consider myself so much of an Indian that I often fail to separate myself from the crowd & forget that my roots are Chinese. It's only when others hold up a mirror do I see the stark contrast. I'm rudely reminded of how I look when somebody derogatorily calls me a Nepali/Manipuri/Japanese/Chinese/Malaysian. But then, there are people who are genuinely curious/confused about my roots and I answer their questions with patient honesty. Here is where I draw a line of distinction between malicious profanities & innocent queries.

This conscious decision was aptly illustrated through my experience in Badmaash Company, where the jokes were in good humor & indirectly attempted to show society how the so-called 'aliens', the different looking people amidst us are perceived and how it can push them to the edge. There are two clinching points in the film to this end. One is when I, Zing, pick up a fight with an Indian couple because they aim unpalatable barbs at me in Hindi, assuming that I don't understand the national language (something that happens quite often to me in real life). Second, when Zing makes it clear even to his friends that "I'm not a cheeni, I'm Indian", thus taking a stance that if I'm not confused about my identity then neither should anybody else. This permission to "speak-out" on celluloid about this matter is what attracted me to the character of Tenzing in the first place. He's a carefree, un-ambitious kind of fellow; fiercely protective of his identity, who doesn't mind good-natured ribbing from his friends but knows when to tell them to quit it.

Indian Idol, however, is a different story altogether. A good show, according to the masses is one which has "action, emotion, drama, comedy" et al. When we as a team get down to deciding the presentation of the show, my looks & origin provide for some comic relief in what can sometimes become a very emotion-heavy episode. It has been used to great effect so far and very honestly, I didn't mind it at all. However, everything comes with a tolerance level and keeping not only my sentiments in mind but also those of the Chinese & North-eastern communities of India, I very humbly refuse to do these chinky jokes anymore. Nobody gets offended, the reel-life show goes on & everyone is happy. However, the jibes continue in real life & I can only hope that the ignorant learn their lesson either before the victims strike back with a vengeance or this becomes mere background music to those of my kind.

It will take time, and I shall wait for it with bated breath & a smile on my face :)

YOU'VE GOT THE "LOOK"

2010-12-03T10:02:00.000+05:30

That probing look!

I've perhaps encountered nothing more confounding than the blank look on people's faces in my travels around the world. You'd relate to what i'm saying. You probably face it every single day! This look could be one of disinterest, indifference or a distant zombie-like one; especially prevalent in crowded places, busy neighbourhoods, chaotic surroundings, work stations (and sometimes in the audiences of Live concerts as well. Ulp!) where the populace seems to be existing on some kind of otherworld & running on autopilot. It could be directed at you, probing you to the bone, or looking right through you. Irrespective of that, the look gets quite disconcerting, frustrating even, as it is impossible to decipher what is going through the mind of the looker.

Are they happy/sad/zoned out? What brought them to their current situation in life? Have they had a tiff with family/friend/lover? Don't they care, or do they care too much? Are they hoping that by giving you the look you'll stop bothering them & go away? Are they practicing the look just to bewilder you? Can I dig a hole in the ground & bury myself???

Questions, questions, questions!

If only we could peel off their faces & peep into their minds, we could become brilliant psychologists. But alas! The mask is unpenetrable; cloaking a million stories & emotions, and the thoughts unretrievable. It ain't that easy to read a face after all.

So the next time you're minding your own business or trying to get some work done and you get the look, perhaps you'll be asking the same questions I am! Feel free to let me know when you decode this one ;)

*****

At Archana's sangeet in Kolkata

Over the years, you have showered unconditional love on me, a stranger who had nothing to lose when he first came on to the National platform. But all this would NOT have been possible if not for the lady in this picture: Archana, my elder sister who just got married on 28th November 2010 was the one who egged me on, forced me to go for the Indian Idol auditions (I wouldn't have if not for her). The rest, as they say is a warm, memorable history. I request you to be generous with your wishes & prayers for a happily married life for her, yet another stranger for you but someone who's very close to my heart :)

A LESSON IN OPTIMISM

2010-11-24T23:08:00.004+05:30

What was one of the first, most important lessons we learnt at school? That whatever happens, happens for good. Our first ever lesson of optimism is unfortunately not always the first thing on our mind when the going gets tough. In calamities we lose hope and even on sunny days we fear it won't last long enough. Optimism and Hope are soul-sisters. One cannot exist without the other. Together, they help one weather the fiercest storm. Yes, times may be bad. Yes, they might look like they're hurtling towards disaster but if we never even THINK that things might get better then they never will. If the battle is lost in the mind then truly all is lost - the storm has already wrecked you.

Hope is one helluva strong line by which many lives "hang in there". Indestructible, unbreakable and with a lifetime guarantee, it cannot be purchased at a store but is manufactured by kindred souls and distributed to those in need of it. It is a shimmer of light in the darkest abysses, a pathfinder, the difference between those who muster ample courage to carry on or to fall off the wonderful but sometimes difficult road of life. To be able to see the light, we must first be willing to LOOK.

We all know the story of Pandora's box, right? This popular fable of Greek mythology tells the story of a lady who unleashed evil, sickness and misery on the world from a box in her possession. Hope was the only item that could not make it's way out of the box; withheld from mortals so that their lives should be full of misery and despair. We're often like Pandora ourselves; unleashing every possible malady known to man but unwittingly keeping hope bottled up inside, the one thing that can redeem us and set us free. As with most things, the answers lie within ourselves. All we need to do, is open our minds...

It's uncanny how we often know what is right for us but fail to put it into practice. I've often been guilty of badly faltering myself. It's as they say; Doctors are the worst patients. But I hope, that my words may find someone in need and kindle the light in them, and in doing so, in me as well.

Remember: No matter how good or bad things go for you, never EVER lose your enthusiasm for life and for what you want from it

ON TOUR IN THE US & CANADA

2010-10-20T00:13:00.000+05:30

It was the same time last year when I was shooting for Badmaash Company in Philadelphia, Atlantic city & NYC. WOW! Time sure flies by! The movie did favorably and some interesting television assignments later, I'm back in the States & also adding Canada to the itinerary for a musical tour with Sunidhi Chauhan herself!

This is of course, a warm-up to getting back to my singing ways which had been on the backburner due to other commitments. Irrespective of what I do ahead, I know that music is what lies at the centre of my heart. And what better way to reboot than this! So here's hoping that I get to interact with & sing for as many of you as possible on this tour :) Lots of love & keep me in your prayers...

THE SCHEDULE:

October 23rd:Edmunton
October 24:Vancouver
October 29:AtlanticCity
October 30:Dallas
October 31:Toronto.

PROMISES AND PROSE

2010-09-15T23:29:00.000+05:30

Promises are like fragile relationships; made with the intent of being fulfilled but often broken & forgotten with nonchalant disdain. Everyone promises something to someone or themselves. My promise to myself is quite simple. Put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard in this case) and cast my thoughts into the virtual vastness. Often time races ahead of my thoughts and I'm left holding a mental slate devoid of any words for weeks at end. And sometimes all it takes is one inspiration to trigger a consuming urge to write straightaway, just like now!

A regulation Facebook update of a friend read thus tonight:

मुस्कुराऊँ कभी, तो लगता है

जैसे होठों पे क़र्ज़ रखा है

These lines from an eternal classic provided the spark that inspired the following prose; coated in philosophy & meant to cheer. Little did I know that the intentioned optimism would lift my spirits as well! I raced my thoughts against time and just like that, my words won!

I am no poet but let's just say that I could not resist sharing this with you:

"क़र्ज़ का ज़िक्र ना कर,

ग़मों की फ़िक्र ना कर.

मुस्कुराये जा कोई कितना भी रुलाए.

मुस्कुराये जा,

तो क्या अगर कोई वजह नज़र ना आए.

इन होठों पे गीत सजाए जा,

बेपरवाह, गाए जा..."

Till next time...

DREAM A BIG DREAM

2010-07-07T15:30:00.001+05:30

In this picture: The Dreamcatcher; part of Native American tradition is a symbolic web which when hung above the dreamer filters dreams from the night air, letting only the good dreams through

Dream a big dream. Become a child again. Dream the colorful. Dream the vivid. Dream the impossible

And if you think that there are no dreams left inside you, then shake yourself up.

Because dreams never die! They're what keep you going when there seems absolutely no reason to

Dream a big dream...

*****

In case you're wondering what prompted these lines, I can only direct you to a wonderful piece of art shared with me by a friend who's always been a pillar of support & sometimes a source of conflict as well. It made me smile and wonder what my dreams would have been like if this chapter called life hadn't happened. If I had still been a child with dreams where anything was possible, madness was good & visions unclouded by reason. Sometimes, just sometimes, let the world we see around us dissolve like paint on a wet canvas. Let us for once see it not for what it is, but for what we'd like it to be. Who knows, our dreams might give us the answers we've been looking for.

http://www.veryawesomeworld.com/awesomebook/inside.html#

THE JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES...

2010-06-26T13:11:00.000+05:30

I finally sit down with Grandma to ask her an unanswered & oft-asked question. WHY did my forefathers leave China for India? The answer is not as prompt as I expect it to be. Almost 200 years later, no one amongst the living in the family seems to know the exact reason & the details are sketchy at best. It is a story nonetheless, and I find myself listening intently to the bits & pieces that Grandma has to offer

"18th century Communist China: A country which was making rapid developmental strides and was hell-bent on strengthening it's military might. It was a time when a member or members of the family HAD to enlist in the armed forces. Only one child could stay back, the rest had to leave to prepare to die on the battlefield. Although serving the nation in such a capacity is a matter of honor & pride, no decision forced down one's gullet ever goes down well. So it was that my forefathers & their families expressed stern disapproval and decided to move to more secular & democratic shores. Those who could afford it boarded the boats to Burma and beyond. The rest, in an age devoid of motor vehicles, aircrafts and navigational equipment bore the journey to India in small groups through ice-capped mountains & hazardous forests on foot. They walked for weeks, sometimes months. Many fell prey to the elements, sickness, fatigue, hunger & ferocious cannibals. Those who survived made it to Calcutta, the then capital of British India and made it their first home. They brought with them their traditional professions of Dentistry, leather works & restaurants, many of which exist to this day in modern-day Kolkata. Hereon, the family-tree flourished to what it is today. They learnt the language, imbibed the customs & traditions. Some moved again to Canada, Australia & America when they could. The rest made India their permanent base, a place they called Home..."

Grandma's story ends here as I'm in a hurry to leave for a Doctor's appointment. Now that we've started, it whets my appetite for many more lingering questions. How did they manage to settle down in a country where no one spoke their language, let alone look like them? Where exactly in China do we hail from? What were my father's growing years like, born in 1948 - a year after Indian Independence? Did the Indo-China war of 1962 undo the good-will garnered over decades? Like a good page-turner the answers to these will have to wait, for this is a story for another time

*****

It is indeed a pleasure to read what you have to post on my blog, be it praise, criticism or just general affection. And I thank you for the time you take for penning your thoughts

Of late, however, many of you've been writing to me in Chinese. I'm sorry to say that since I don't read or write the Chinese letter I cannot decipher a word of what you've written. I would love to hear from you, but in English or Hindi please, if you will. Till next time, God bless!

SOMETHING OLD, SOMETHING NEW

2010-05-20T02:25:00.003+05:30

Picture courtesy: Dr. Sheetal Amte

Pictures and journals have an irreplaceable significance. They bring back a deluge of memories with them, some of which you're fondly reminded of and others which you cannot relate to any more. And since this blog is roughly 4 years old, the older posts throw a revealing light over the changing state of mind of the author. He used to be more carefree with his words, discussions, opinions and the enthusiasm could literally be "felt" through his writings. Four years later, a cloud of maturity hovers over his writing (which is good) but an unnecessary self-censorship has crept in; reining in words, expressions, anecdotes. Somewhere along the years, the carefree child has lost his way and a cautious adult has taken his place.

He intends to be that child in his writings again. He intends to use the language he wants, to write whatever he wants even if it's politically incorrect & may rattle some sensibilities. Perhaps no one is judging him, but sometimes a man has to be his own judge

*********

"BADMAASH COMPANY" is a hit! Phew! What a relief. One can hardly sum up the experience garnered over 7 months of filming this mammoth team-effort in a few words. All I can say is that when life threw lemons, "Zing" used them with his Tequila shots ;)

In any field of work, observation is an integral part of one's learning process. While the film was a good teacher, yours-truly learnt more about life, people, genuineness & illusions AFTER the film was wrapped. Wiser, stronger, more confident I emerged, albeit with a dash of skepticism. I had a blast making this film with some genuinely genuine people (if that makes sense) .I'm glad that many of you have liked Badmaash Company. Some have watched it more than once, many have dragged their friends & family too. It's this love that has helped me grow from the shy contestant to what I am today. So THANK YOU VERY MUCH once again, "from the left side of my heart" :) And to those who still haven't seen the movie, what are you waiting for? Free tickets? ;)

LIFE'S LITTLE LESSONS, OBSERVATION

2010-04-27T20:02:00.000+05:30

Image courtesy: cry4moons, Photobucket

I believe in a time-tested maxim: if you have nothing good to say about someone, it's best not to say anything at all. In short, what we call "bitching" is quite an unhealthy practice. Some compulsively speak ill of people, others do it for fun or for personal vendetta; to score one over another or to rocket one's ego; the sense of "I am Right, you're Wrong." Before you know it, it becomes a habit & the habit transmogrifies into a negative character trait, hence opening up a Pandora's box .We often mistake "venting" for "bitching". Venting may be good, the latter is not. One need NOT translate into the other. It's a personal choice, and I'm sure we're mature enough to make the right one. Spread the good word!

*****

By the way, I've just realized the reason for my steadily declining blog posts. No, it's not just a decently busy schedule but an addiction for brevity. In simpler terms, an inclination towards the micro-blogging monster that is Twitter. However, although brevity is considered the soul of wit, bibliophiles will agree that nothing beats a full-blown written conversation. Which is why I try to bring myself back to my writing roots; back to my blog and breaking free of the 140 word-limit shackles.

*****

The city of Mumbai is dotted with gigantonormous slums. Millions reside in these inadequate spaces and it is this forced proximity that perhaps strikes an instant kinship amongst them; making every joy & sorrow a shared sentiment. The street outside my house is often witness to the bonding these slum-dwellers share in many walks of their lives, where they sing & dance together as a secular unit at festivals, lose themselves in the merriment of a mate's first step into marital bliss, grieve on each other's shoulder on someone's passing and gang up against the tide when one of their own is shown in poor light. Irrespective of the occasion, I have seen them enjoy their slice of life to the hilt, augmented by playful gossip & ranting debates. Loneliness is, by habit, an unknown feeling for them.

In this vast, vast city, where distances or the lack of it can kill conversations, this bonhomie is indeed a visual & spiritual treat. As I write this, there is a considerable din brewing up downstairs, which is an indication of another approaching excuse for merriment. So for the meantime, I shall cool my fingers & become a busy observer. Till next time …

"Evolve Your Mind" by Jesi

ABSOLUTELY RANDOM MUSINGS ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON

2010-04-18T17:21:00.007+05:30

Many people have asked me whether I check in to my blog anymore. The answer is a jolly YES! Yes, I do come back to my blog and I always go through your opinions, bouquets & brickbats. I love reading & writing and nothing can keep me away from the written word for long. But sometimes, just sometimes, my creative will & urge to pen something takes off on a collective holiday. I then remind myself that in spite of current commitments & new directions, there are certain things that I love doing and may never leave. In that vein, I can only offer to say this: the written word is a true vehicle for my thoughts and I shall ensure this vehicle is well-oiled & regularly serviced. Onwards then!

*******

The phrase "I love you from the bottom of my heart" would actually be, if we look at it from a Medical point of view, one of the most inappropriate form of speech to display your affection. If you remember your undergraduate Biology lessons, deoxygenated blood (blood poor in oxygen) enters the heart through the Right Atrium and is passed through the Right Ventricle to the lungs for re-oxygenation and removal of carbon dioxide. It's only the Left side of the heart that receives AND delivers pure, oxygenated blood to the rest of the body. So on principle, if you're intent on certifying the purity of your love to that special someone, the phrase you should be using is, "I love you from the LEFT side of my heart."

I just tried it on my lady love and she fell for it!!! My explanation must have been convincingly sound, or perhaps she was just being too polite to laugh ;)

Image courtesy: www.wellness.recesswellness.com/

BADMAASH COMPANY THEATRICAL TRAILER

2010-03-24T19:29:00.002+05:30

Well guys & girls, ladies & gentlemen - here it is, finally! The BADMAASH COMPANY Theatrical Trailer ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtcdflQAOs4 )!!! Still more than a month to go for the release on 7th May but I have the butterflies doing tango within already ;) Hope you guys like the promo, and more importantly; the Movie. God bless us all

US V/S THEM

2010-03-01T12:13:00.010+05:30

There are films that get you thinking about issues that years of learning & reading would not have invoked. It may be shameful on our part not to feel about it, or perhaps the detachment is a byproduct of not having been in the thick of such issues or personally not having known someone who died in it or for it. Firaaq and Black Friday are gritty, intense films that refer to some important black chapters of the country's history & deal with the victimisation of a certain sect of society; most of them pulled into the cesspool either out of hateful incitement or a sense of injustice. A moving scene in Firaaq shows four youths fighting to own a solitary bullet for their only gun, just because each believes he has been a victim of injustice more than the other!

Now I'm not one to point fingers or to excuse the sin of a person. The instinctive response to injustice is rage & vengeance. Situations have gone out of hand before in our country. Blood has been shed mindlessly on either side. The Us and Them have suffered equally in terms of tranquility & peace of mind if not property & lives of friends, children, loved ones. Both have been right and wrong. Both have seen the futility of violence & felt the angst of loss. Then why must the blood lust continue? Why must we let our minds be provoked & poisoned against the other? Mob mentality is volatile - it is child's play to incite; more than anything it is just so damn convenient to let our base instincts take over & unleash the animal within us. When will we put our differences aside and sort out our niggling issues? When will we stop burning our own people just so to turn the tide against the opposers? Why prosecute innocents while people in national custody continue to make a mockery out of our judicial system? Where will it all end?

On a positive note, The Us and Them do have the peace-mongers; those who'd give their lives to broker harmony & make things "as they were" ages ago. They are mere drops in the ocean, but the foundations of an amicable future will be built on these minimums. Will there come a day when we shall live in togetherness & peace, or will we regret that the pages of our lives which should've been decorated with the mirthful ink of empathy & compassion have been splattered with morose blotches of abhorrence & turmoil? Will there come a day when the Us and Them will truly become "WE", just the way it should be? Easier said than done, but then again, hope is such a wonderful thing ...

SOJOURN - MURUD JANJIRA & KASHID

2010-02-28T12:05:00.014+05:30

Life has a way of bringing together people who you've known for a few years, perhaps many. The time frame doesn't matter; what matters is the bond you share with them. Sometimes, an eternity can be insufficient & often some special moments are all you need to know if a person can be firmly entrenched in the album of your life as friend, lover, guide or what have you. Other than the girl I love, some of my school & college friends hold my heart ransom to their invaluable presence in my life. And you can only imagine my glee at being reunited for a bit with them on one of my favorite escapades - a Road Trip :)

I was in Wynberg Allen School, Mussoorie only for two years. But as aforementioned, time is but a figure. Some lasting friendships brought Bikash, Prerna, Rahul & myself together on the Holi weekend in Mumbai (big achievement considering how near-impossible it is to "catch-up" once we've all drifted in different directions & contrasting careers. I say contrasting mainly because they have weekends off and I don't ;). One untested car for very long drives and four friends kickstarted the sojourn to Murud Janjira Fort & Kashid beach, some 200 kms out of Mumbai.

The hurdles were many, with the weekend crowd driving like lunatics & city-like traffic jams till almost 60 percent of the destination! But once they were overcome, a gentle calm descended upon mind, body & soul. The roads narrowed down to pass through old-world villages where time seems to have stood still, with ancient houses & a bountiful of palm trees, where life is lived simply & wordly desires are few. The closed down rusticity of the town soon gave way to winding roads, an open sky and a graceful ocean.

A coconut water & short snooze in a hammock later, we made our way down to the dock where lay sailboats with a charm oozing from a bygone era. Packed to a spillover, the boat set sail towards the island on which proudly stands the imposing Murud Janjira fort.

Owing to low tide, disembarkation had to be done a distance away from the sharp, rocky shore. A lot of muck & cuts later, we were in the fort. A quick perusal explained why this has supposedly remained the only unconquered fort in India's history - a fort on an island surrounded by water on all sides, a 360 degree view of any kind of approach and virtually unscaleable walls. The fort must have been self-sufficient, with resting quarters, a gigantonormous swimming pool, artillery & weapons rooms to boast of.

A thought hit me like a brick - the warriors of yore must get very good exercise, owing to the immensity of the fort & the impossibly high stairs!!! They also must've been very lonely. How soft we as human beings have become owing to technological advances & the luxuries on display in this age. Even then, the loneliness within us remains to this day. While a section of the ruins undergoing restoration towards honoring our legacy & heritage gladdened my heart, a simple thing humbled and gratified me. Standing in front of this particular structure with my friends, marvelling at its enormity, we noticed a strong beam of light through one of the windows. This beam seemed determined on finding it's way through the aperture on to us. God's Light, I thought. And this is God's way of saying Hi. I could not help but smile, smile at how kind God has been...

On my way back, I was amused to witness again how many people were willing to fit in into a single sailboat. It wasn't a mere hurry to get back home, it was a quintessential quality that we all hold within - that of sharing. That in spite of the heat & lack of space, people found reason to laugh, celebrate & sing. To not find a single frowning face in the crowd was bliss indeed.

Once ashore, it was back to the beach & the sunset leaving a lazy hue over the restless waters, making one wish that the sight of this liquid gold be preserved in memory forever. Darkness descended soon & the car began to zig-zag its' way back home, where reminiscences & laughter awaited us with open arms...

WHITE COAT RUFFIAN

2010-02-24T10:12:00.004+05:30

I am a Dentist. Or at least I used to be. Five years of Dental School in Bangalore encompassed many instances of mental & physical exhaustion. It was daily parlance to try avoiding the whiplash of the professors' acerbic tongue, as well as to crave the warmth of the patients' gratitude. I guess that's what kept me going in those formative years - the smile of relief of our subjects and the attainment of the elusive title of Doctor. I was to leave to pursue higher Dental studies in the United States in the month of September, 2007. Indian Idol happened and my life as we know it strapped up & went for a roller-coaster ride. Looking over my shoulder, it seems like another lifetime altogether.

Now no more a practicing Dentist, I came across a moment of nostalgia while visiting my college mates in the same country I was supposed to continue my studies in. "Pal bhar ke liye koi humein pyaar kar le, jhoothaa hi sahi", so goes the popular Dev Anand song. And pal bhar ke liye I became the jhootha Dentist in the NYU College of Dentistry., donning the flowing white coat, mouth mask & gloves once again. The dam of restraint crumbled to pieces and memories of dental school came flowing back. And with the memories came the realisation that being a Doctor has always been tough (for obvious reasons). Tougher still, is being subjected to the same things we put patients through when we ourselves become patients - sticking needles, making incisions, stiching them up and the like, promising them that "it won't hurt a bit". Nine out of ten times it really doesn't, thanks to better training & advanced anesthesia. But we all know that battles are often lost in the mind, and pre-emption of pain is something the best anesthesia in the world can't wish away. A simple procedure like administering an injection or something more mentally stressful like suturing of a wound creates a mountain out of an otherwise painless molehill. It's easy for us to say nice things to our patients to placate them & to prepare them for a procedure, but a good Doctor would be one who can gauge both sides of the coin, i.e. understand the plight of the patient & genuinely show the necessary concern but at the same time remember that not every act is possible in a humane manner. For which, I'm forever grateful to my patients who helped me learn and let me help them. Ah, but I'm wavering from the nostalgia sitting like a morning mist over my thoughts :)

As I walked around in the corridors of NYU, I saw apparitions, phantasms. It wasn't my mind playing tricks; rather the sweet, disconnected sterile smell of the hospital triggering a series of suppressed memories - of friends, professors, laughter, patients, mad rushes, joy & despair in a similar, sterile corridor half a world away. I've heard that my hospital has changed; that the faces of the walls & of those I knew are no more the same. But memories are strange bedfellows. They leave you when you're in a crowd, surround you in your solitude & refuse to change one bit. Never had I known that six years of my life as a Doctor could flash by the mind's eyes in so mercurial a manner, and I wouldn't have it any other way...

MY DEBUT MOVIE

2010-02-11T22:58:00.006+05:30

This one is for all the people who've read my blog ever since I was forced into starting one. I've often mentioned at various avenues that I'm a person who expresses himself better with the written word rather than speech. But today, I'm wordless - both with the pen & mouth.

My debut movie under Yash Raj Films called BADMAASH COMPANY, with Shahid Kapoor, Anushka Sharma and Vir Das is hitting the screens on the 7th of May, 2010 and I cannot but feel limitless exhilaration. All those months of hard work, and the first fruits of it are finally beginning to show...

No word can explain the bouncing-off-the-walls phenomenon I'm experiencing right now, so all I'd like to say is - You've supported me unconditionally, right from the days of Indian Idol and I have deep gratitude for that. All I ask is, no matter what the fate of the film, be there with me. Keep me in your prayers, always.

And yes, go watch the movie in the theaters. Make this extraordinary story an extraordinary hit :)

LATE NIGHT PRAYERS

2010-01-15T18:01:00.003+05:30

The above picture is not the Author's property. The text, however, is :)

There is no place in Mumbai more peaceful than Mount Mary Church at 2 am in the morning, with the dipping mercury and the warmth of the prayer candles to keep you company. In the dead of night, when the air is still & the sound of the waves muted in the distance, it makes for an ideal end of day. The only trace of humanity is devotees who have one thing or another to ask of God- wishes, requests, questions. That, and the lady selling prayer materials to all who cometh, accompanied by the omnipresent stray dogs. The steps up to the Grotto are a gentle climb & the ink-black darkness beyond it frees the mind of worries & sorrows, if only for a short while.

The first time I visited Mount Mary was in broad daylight with a Chinese friend a long time ago. She enlightened me about the legends associated with the church - the significance of the wax dummies of houses, children et al and how "sacche dil se maangi hui dua ko Mother Mary kabhi inkaar nahi karti" (Mother Mary never refuses genuine prayers). I thought of this while I prayed. And while listing my "requests" & "pleases" to God, I couldn't help but smile - smile at the manner in which our wishes change as we grow up. The innocent requests for peace & happiness for friends, parents & the world-in-general morphs into more self-centric pleas- as if the world just got left somewhere far behind as you grew up in the rat-race.

Nowadays, the visits are infrequent and always at a late hour. When the world tucks itself comfortably into their holsters, one can feel the freedom & absolute peace under the starlight & the shadow of the towering church. There's no denying that one leaves this spot with a replenished state of mind and a hope that Mother Mary has indeed heard your prayers. As for me, I keep mixing selfish demands with selfless childlike requests, hoping that God wouldn't mind me cheating in my prayers :)

MY TAKE

2009-12-15T10:33:00.006+05:30

Image Courtesy : Rico, www.gimmefever.com

The American President Barack Obama recently accepted the Nobel Peace Prize under much speculation & debate over a wartime president being awarded such an honor. While Obama was gracious enough to accept that he has not done enough yet to deserve the prestigious award, there is no doubting the President's oratory skills, and might I add, honesty. At his acceptance speech, Obama actually defended war. And honestly, I think he did the right thing. Obama professes to be an ardent admirer of Mahatma Gandhi & civil rights leader Martin Luther King and believes in their principles. However, he confesses that "as a head of state sworn to protect & defend my nation, and in a world where war is sometimes necessary, I cannot be guided by their examples alone. A non-violent movement would not have halted Hitler's armies. Negotiations cannot convince Al Qaeda's leaders to lay down arms".

Don't get me wrong on this one though. No one with a head firmly on their shoulders would propagate war. The President doesn't. I don't. What hit me in Obama's statements, however, was that we live in a world where "war is sometimes necessary". And this is not a new phenomenon at all. Indeed, for all our desires of World peace, we cannot deny the unshakeable position war holds in mankind's past, present and future. If we take our own country, India for example, which has been invaded, ravaged, pillaged and ruled over by outsiders for eons, then probably we would realize the worth of this statement, and of war - the necessary evil.

In essence, why are wars waged? Either to protect or to expand. While wars waged on the lofty heights of ambition are the sorriest excuses of megalomania, who can oppose taking up arms in order to defend your land, your people and your dignity? I'm unapologetic if I attract controversy on this, but I've never really understood the principle of Ahimsa so deeply engraved in our history. I, like many Indians, am not a great fan of Mahatma Gandhi. I agree with his peaceful methods, but difficult times need difficult measures. The situation was surely different back then, and since I have only read about it and have not been a witness to the times, it would be easy for me to oppose the overtly peaceful path paved by Gandhi. However, I often ask myself & my friends, would the British have ruled over us for over 200 years if we had systematically taken up arms against them earlier? Would violence have won India its' freedom earlier than non-violence did? Was Subhash Chandra Bose a disillusioned villain- one who was intent on proving Gandhi wrong? Were Rani Laxmi Bai, Shivaji and the like wrong in fighting for their motherland? Sceptics would say that wars waged by rulers of the pre-British era yielded to nothing, but let's not forget that most of those defeats were party to bad organization, false pride, treachery and technological backwardness. If a burglar were to break into your house, would you back off trying to protect your family because he has a gun? If inevitable, you would engage him at the cost of your own life to protect those who're worth more than anything in the world to you. Let's not forget the pockets of violent resistance through the decades that seeded the British paranoia, and for the absence of them would have meant the invaders running roughshod over the motherland. If organized and well thought, they'd have had a far greater impact. Perhaps then, we'd have celebrated our independence much earlier. Perhaps, we were just lucky to have the British rule over us. I would love to know if turning the other cheek would have worked or would we be choking in a gas chamber had the Nazis ruled us - if it would have driven the Chinese away - If it would have deterred the repeat offender, the blood brother...

Then again, history gives us ample evidence that war is not the remedial solution to all of the world's ills. The American troops in Afghanistan have lost more than they've gained. The terrorists are still at large, and the troops' actions (due to depression, loneliness, hopelessness?) have not endeared them to the local populace either. The Heroes have fallen and in many pairs of eyes, have sunk as low as the villains. Simultaneously, several wars around the world have been just that - endless carnage, endless heartbreaks but no solutions. Closer home, Indian history throws up some interesting nuggets of wisdom. King Ashoka of the Maurya dynasty was determined to expand his empire pan-India, but got entrenched in intense soul-searching once he saw the madness of war and the lives that it engulfed unapologetically. The peaceful principles of Buddhism also converted Angulimaal, a dreaded dacoit who had a fetish for adding his victims' fingers to a garland around his neck, into a God fearing man. Why the world is still a peaceful place in spite of all the seemingly anarchic situations around the globe is perhaps because of the seeds of peace sowed by many of our philanthropic leaders, one of them perhaps the one who I am not a great fan of. Perhaps that is why, we as human beings - so uniquely diverse and diversely unique still share our lives in harmony. Small, petty quarrels are acceptable - after all, what is life without a little strife. Wars, however, have far greater implications than a mohalley ka jhagdaa. Can you imagine every man, woman and child across boundaries, cultures, religions, ethnicities and ideologies resorting to violence as a tool to settle their differences? The world would become one big Pandora's box - a domino of miseries and no way to shut it down. Remember, John Lennon's Imagine?

I am, by nature, a peaceful person. I love harmony in my life and a balance in people around me. I cringe at quarrels and scoff at being party to one. But I also know that when the time comes - when rightfully, my people, my dignity and what i hold dear are endangered, the cheek to be slapped will not be mine. Yes, we do live in a world where war is sometimes necessary.

(This is my take on war & peace, and I would love to hear yours…)

Image courtesy : www.kearnystreet.files.wordpress.com

THE LADY, THE IMAGINARY COW AND I...

2009-10-28T23:00:00.003+05:30

Cow by Mondojohn, www.deviantart.com

A return to Mumbai invariably means taking the chaotic rush & traffic head on. It also means that all semblance (or rather, pretense) of road-etiquette inculcated on a foreign trip is lost in the melee of exhaust and human processions. Patiently waiting for the green signal becomes a forgotten memory (in spite of the fact that there isn't really a hurry to get anywhere. One's back to relax, isn't it? Or is it just our innate desire to be ahead at any cost?)

So it comes to be that his unquestioned self-imposed authority on the street takes over and he drives like it's his baap kaa road. However, a Godly wand is waved and speedy justice is delivered. Rash driving is countered by a woman sashaying her ware in a shockingly gaudy sari in the middle of the road, unperturbed by the fact that she's holding up traffic like the Holy Indian Cow. Her rump is all he gets to see (the rest is covered in blingy embellishments) and he could swear that the sway of her hips was not unlike the wag of a cow's tail. Another moment, and she would turn, her mouth full of cud and her eyes full of becalmed disdain.

The cow ambles along. The human in the car zips ahead and still drives like a maniac. The pedestrians continue to saunter on the road like one would in their garden. And hence, the game of retribution continues. Tit-for-tat, how's that?

Now how about working together? How about you use the zebra crossings and I follow the lane system? How about we make being on the street a more pleasurable experience? What? No, it's not mere baap kaa road but can't we just.... Hear me out... But..... I mean...

Ahhhh! Just forget it!!!! Carry on...

the buddha soliloques

SING OUT LOUD FOR A HEALTHY DEBATE!

RUMINATION, INTROSPECTION, INSPIRATION

WHAT DOES IT TRULY MEAN?

RECOLLECTIONS & REFLECTIONS

WHAT'S NEXT? INDIA'S GOT TALENT!!!

OF TRAINS AND BURNING BRIDGES

A MOMENT TO THINK

THE "CHINKY" FACTOR

YOU'VE GOT THE "LOOK"

A LESSON IN OPTIMISM

ON TOUR IN THE US & CANADA

October 23rd:Edmunton October 24:Vancouver October 29:AtlanticCity October 30:Dallas October 31:Toronto.

PROMISES AND PROSE

DREAM A BIG DREAM

THE JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND MILES...

SOMETHING OLD, SOMETHING NEW

LIFE'S LITTLE LESSONS, OBSERVATION

ABSOLUTELY RANDOM MUSINGS ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON

BADMAASH COMPANY THEATRICAL TRAILER

US V/S THEM

SOJOURN - MURUD JANJIRA & KASHID

WHITE COAT RUFFIAN

MY DEBUT MOVIE

LATE NIGHT PRAYERS

MY TAKE

THE LADY, THE IMAGINARY COW AND I...

October 23rd:Edmunton
October 24:Vancouver
October 29:AtlanticCity
October 30:Dallas
October 31:Toronto.