Thursday, April 17, 2008

My R.E.M. Playlist

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

All About Those Eyes :)

He said:
Oho, really! Well, let me try to summarise what you just told me with a sher. Here goes:

तेरी आंखों की कशिश से एक पल को साँस थम गई,
तूने इशारा भी न किया और कत्ल-ऐ-आम हो गया

Howzzat?


I replied:
There's more to it. Try this:

चार लफ्ज़ बोलने का ये अंजाम हो गया
देखिये शायरों की शागिर्दी क्या इल्जाम हो गया

And,
माली से दोस्ती में मैं यूं बदनाम हो गया
काँटों के खीचे खून का भी चर्चा तमाम हो गया

But, I'll admit this...
एक घूँट में ही ग़म-ऐ-ज़िंदगी से आराम हो गया
क्या बताएं जनाब, ऐसा ही कल एक जाम हो गया

Too bad, though...
मेरे सजदे से मोहल्ले में कोहराम हो गया
उनकी इबादत करने की थी आरजू , अफ़सोस...कत्ल-ऐ-आम हो गया

:(

Friday, April 11, 2008

Hm.

I've got to give it to some people, they really deserve it. The gift, you know, the sheer talent, man , that they have, it just makes comparisons so inanely redundant, you know. Now you might be thinking what's got into this raving good-for-nothing, just blabbering away, makin' no sense at all. Well, yeah, you're right, but that isn't going to make much difference to me, as you know very well by now. But anyway, I've never been one to listen too much to people who have no good words for anybody except other people they want something from, so I'm going to let you keep at it while I get myself warmed up. So, yeah, I was sayin', this is nothing to sneeze at, right? The guy was born with something but he didn't have to put so much into it to become so good at it. It's called knowing a jewel when you see one, and sometimes it's just the most goddamn hard thing to see it in yourself. Now, look at me, I've been there and I've had people totally eatin' out of my hands, you know how that goes, but I never had the kind of concentration or maybe common sense to put into what they call developing one's talents. I've always been pretty naive that way, but it's not a huge bother, I've not done that badly in life. But, sure as death, I know that if I had a half a brain I would be makin' 'em dance to my tunes all over town, you know I'm right. So, yeah, I walk into this room full of people, and in five minutes, you heard that, five minutes, I can tell who's the star of the show, who's the hanger-on and who's the timid wannabe. It's that easy, it's a gift too, but it's just as useful as an eye for useful trash in the dumpster. That's not what you might consider an appropriate example, but trust me, if you were to talk to one of them beachcombers, he would tell you the same thing, right? In any case, I was just telling you about this idea of being able to spot the man with the gift of the gab from a mile away, and I'd be lying if I didn't half envy some of those splendid men making them ladies swoon and giggle and behave like puppets on the cords of his words, flying out into the air around him, stronger and more allurin' than any of those musk perfumes you might've seen the ads about. Absolutely brilliant, I call it, and they know it too, you know, that easy charm, the way they throw their heads back when they laugh, the way they pull that jacket sleeve just a little higher to allow them to look at their expensive watch, yeah, now you notice it, don't you? It ain't no accident at all, trust me, it's a talent, and it's also a lot of practice, man. You never get quite as good at anything without beating yourself up over things once in a while. It's like this problem I have with my jokes, you know. People tell me that they were this close to bashing my head in when I tell my jokes, and I could never understand it. Of course, I get to grin behind their backs because they have no idea, absolutely no idea at all, how many times I've made fools out of 'em and they didn't even know it. As I said, it takes some doing before you can even get the hang of your own practical jokes, but if you're as good as I am, then it's only a matter of time before you have them thinking, and thinking, and thinking, and then saying, "Now what the hell was that all about?"

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

To Dear Papa, With Love...

I watched some parts of 'Road to Perdition' again recently, and I couldn't help but be moved by the last scene of the film. To understand how much those lines convey, one has to watch the movie. However, I want to share them nonetheless, also as a tribute to my own father, with whom my relationship has evolved, and is still evolving, over my short (and in some ways, long) lifetime thus far. Here they are:

"I saw then that my father's only fear was that his son would follow the same road. And that was the last time I ever held a gun. People always thought I grew up on a farm. And I guess, in a way, I did. But I lived a lifetime before that, in those six weeks on the road in the winter of 1931. When people ask me if Michael Sullivan was a good man, or if there was just no good in him at all, I always give the same answer. I just tell them... he was my father."

Do go and see the film if you get a chance. I recommend watching it on DVD, but if you can't, then here's the youtube link to the first part. It was acclaimed cinematographer Conrad Hall's last movie, and he received a posthumous Oscar for his work. I assure you that the award doesn't honour the film, it is the other way around, in this case.