Online Shopping for Indian DVDs

Hmong to Champaign, IL - that's one crazy stretch! Even for Bollywood. And yes, I have seen Japanese kids dance on Rajni songs at a school function.

I took a look at the films Nicki had seen as a kid. And I used to think I had a weird childhood.

And please do try out Induna. It's actually as good as Nicki says. It's quite rare to come across good service standards in India, at low costs as least. Just travel by Go or Spice and you'd know what I mean.

Tweety Bird

I joined Twitter a few weeks back. Like a lot of things that I join and then lose interest in, I haven't gone back to the site again, at least no more than twice maybe. And certainly haven't made any posts. Or is the right term 'tweets'?

Actually, for some reason it does not take messages from my phone. Now I don't have the patience or the interest to figure out if it's a problem with my net connection, my phone connection, my connection or anything else. Just now I realized that I don't even know for sure if it is meant to take messages from my phone.

But, still, people seem to keep deciding to follow me on Twitter. Unless it's that fan thing on Orkut, or the equally dumb Recommendation thing on LinkedIn (the only two networking sites I whole-heartedly support - I find Facebook too confusing), where it's expected to be quid pro quo, I don't understand why people do that.

Of course no one loses anything on adding one more name to the list of people you follow, but it does give my ego a fairly respectable boost, which could be the secret of my energy, when I see yet another new person starting to follow me on Twitter. And like the many good people who keep sending friend invites on Facebook, I don't know a fair number of the people following me on Twitter either.

No offence meant to people who did add me on Twitter of course. I am sure they are all very nice. And busy.

Quizzing in Mathura

I returned to Mumbai (and office) in the morning today, a couple of hours back, after a very hectic and enjoyable weekend.

At Mathura.

MnA had been invited to conduct three quizzes at Indian Oil Corporation's Mathura Oil Refinery, as part of IOCL's golden jubilee celebrations. Both Menon and I were there - the first time after our 1st quiz at IIMC when we have been quizmasters at the same venue.

I did a quiz for college students and then a quiz for employees' spouses on Saturday and Menon followed it up with a quiz for the employees on Sunday. The entire experience was very unique - it doesn't really get any more unique than doing a quiz for housewives.

And the best part is that we managed to get it right. We underestimated the ladies a bit, and almost all my questions got answered without being passed around much, but the more important thing was that we connected really well with the participants and the audience and everyone seemed to have enjoyed it a lot.

The enthusiasm, especially among the ladies, was truly infectious. Made the slightly painful trip to Mathura, barely managing work and making questions for 1.5 quizzes, and generally cribbing about having to make easy questions completely worth it.

This feeling, which I have probably talked about here earlier too, that we are doing the right thing as quizmasters - ensuring that people enjoy a quiz without having to dumb it down or making it too jazzy, essentially still concentrating on having good questions - is immensely satisfying. It feels great when people, who have probably never quizzed in their lives, clap spontaneously for a good question or an inspired answer from the stage. And both of us are getting better in terms of being comfortable on the stage and with the audience too, which adds to the fun.

Of course the money we are making on the side adds to the satisfaction.

The journey to Mathura and back was through Gurgaon, where I had a (partial) night out with friends, drinks and gossip after a very long time. Made the trip even more tiring, but a lot more enjoyable also.

Talking of MnA, this article came out in Times of India (Kolkata edition) recently. The other guys mentioned are probably working on their ventures a lot more proactively, but we have till now largely been picking the fruits falling in our laps without us having to do much by way of pitching. We should be making an effort to pluck some out from the trees pretty soon.

After this weekend, coming back to work seemed particularly drab and pointless.

Let Live

It's really annoying how often people tend to think they are more capable to make the choices for another human being. Almost every day one comes across one more self-righteous fool trying to dictate how someone else needs to live his/her life. I never quite understand why as long as someone's decision is not having a bearing on your life (and the butterfly effect argument is too dumb to count) why you would want to interfere in that person's life.

These days there's this case in the news about a mentally-challenged orphan pregnant rape victim in Punjab being stopped from having her child. Thankfully the Supreme Court let her go ahead with her decision. It's her body, her child. One really doesn't know what the child would want, and till it's born I think the mother is the only person, at least in this case, who can decide for it. Why the hell do apparently well-meaning people want her child to be aborted! There's so little that lady has to live for. Why the hell can't you let her be happy if she feels she can take care of the child!

Monsieur Sarkozy decided to ban the hijab in France. Because it is a secular country. I don't know what the definition of secular is. I have always believed that it is not banning the expression of any religious belief, but instead ensuring that people from all communities are allowed full freedom to wear, worship, speak, celebrate in any manner they want to as long as they are not harming anyone else. Barring a Muslim woman from wearing a headscarf or a Sikh man from keeping a turban, irrespective of whether that person wants to do it or not, is not secularism. It's autocracy.

It's no different from a Muslim emperor in medieval times allowing people from all religions to stay in his kingdom as long as they paid a tax for being allowed to stay there. It's no different from Muslims in a certain Well-known State in Western India living under the constant threat of another riot.

Nicolas Sarkozy might believe that he has done a great deed by liberating Muslim women. I might be wrong, but I do believe that the hijab holds a more important position for at least some Muslim women living in France than just something forced onto them by their fathers or brothers.

Which brings me to the Section 377 decriminalisation case. There have been all sorts of people from all sorts of backgrounds saying all sorts of things about how homosexuality is against our culture, is unnatural, is criminal, is a portent of the end of mankind and so much more.

The funniest bit that I saw on TV was in an NDTV debate hosted by Vikram Chandra where a high-school kid said with a lot of conviction that sex is only meant for having kids. Damn, that kid is up for so much revelation some time soon.

Or maybe not.

But, on a more serious note, I was just peeved with the time that was being spent on the issue. I know it's one of those things that need to be discussed in the open and not brushed under the proverbial carpet, but while doing that it's really annoying seeing people like Baba Ramdev saying things they obviously have no clue at all about. Why do these people feel it's so important to dictate what I do in my bedroom. Or, for that matter, even what their son/daughter does in his/her bedroom.

I doubt most such people would even have a clue about it actually.

Reading Hamza in Mumbai

It's really difficult fitting a whole lot of things to do in the few hours I get free after work and before I go to sleep. Reading Dastan-e-Amir Hamza, playing with my new iPod Touch, playing with my slightly old Wii, watching all the stuff I copied from a friend recently, watching all the stuff I have been copying from other people over the last few years (I still have movies left from the 1st trip I made back to Delhi after joining IIMC), watching TV, watching YouTube videos (I came across these bunch of awesome videos made by the 2007 Civil Engg batch at IT-BHU, actually made by essentially one chap, but starring many of his batchmates), and a lot of other stuff.

Surprisingly, watching TV wins. At least on weeknights.

I am really enjoying Rakhi Ka Swayamvar. As Amit Varma said, WTF-ness abounds. I actually do respect Rakhi Sawant for having achieved whatever she has despite all the apparent handicaps, but that still can't keep me from cringing almost every other minute with what people do there. Of course, you'd know by now that I love cringe-worthy stuff.

I was also enjoying Entertainment Ke Liye Kuchh Bhi Karega before it got over a few days back.

There are two things I saw on TV in the last 2-3 days, which made me marvel at how far we have come from the DD days, for better or for worse. One, they actually showed Chetan Hansraj (who, incidentally, I realized, had played the young Balram in one of the biggest DD hits - Mahabharat) take a shower in Iss Jungle Se Mujhe Bachao. Don't think any of the other Big Brother/Survivor clones had gone into that territory yet. And the other thing was the absolute voyeurism of Sach Ka Saamna. If the first episode's questions are anything to go by, I am hooked. Who wouldn't want to see a seemingly ordinary lady admit in front of her family that she had once wanted to kill her husband! Or computer-ji, or whoever Sid Basu has got in this time, telling the same lady that when she said that she wouldn't sleep with another man even if her husband never got to know of it, she was actually lying according to the polygraph. Late night TV gems are made of these and more.

Have been going to sleep these last few days reading stories from the English translation of Dastan-e-Amir Hamza. When I was in school, I used to be desperate to lay my hands on any book of fiction and had digested every book worth reading in my school library (it wasn't all that big anyway) and one of the books I had chanced upon was Stories from the 1001 Arabian Nights. Quite evidently no teacher in the school had ever read it (and probably no other student as well, as it ran into over a 1000 pages), or it wouldn't have been available in a school library. I was all of 14 years then, and the descriptions of all kinds of sexual deviance and tasteful paeans to private body parts (both male and female) provided a wonderful introduction to Central Asian literature. The book I am reading currently hasn't reached those standards yet, but I am still in the first 100 pages only. Hopefully, things will get more rewarding.

I hope even more that they do because Hamza was Prophet Muhammad's uncle, and I just love the Prophet. You can't not love the chap.

Kaminey!

So I am alive. Very much so.

I hadn't expected that I'll say this, at least so soon, but I like Mumbai more than Bangalore. As I had written in one of my last posts - Bangalore is a dying city. While Mumbai is the most alive, throbbing city I have ever lived in.

Also, my opinion is bound to be biased a great deal by my work environment, since I spend a good time of my waking life at my office. I am the only one in my firm who has worked in both the Bangalore and the Mumbai offices, and I can certify that the Mumbai office is better. My boss here is a lot more mature, unlike my previous one, who had never been able to grow up from this feeling of self-importance he gained while working in a mediocre investment bank, and had a terrible inferiority complex and needed this constant puffing up to prove to himself that he was worth something. Contrary to what the generally accepted belief in the firm is, the Mumbai office gets thrice as much work done as at the Bangalore office, and manages to remain a lot more convenient (and more 'cool') place to work at.

Love being in Mumbai, despite the humidity, despite the crowds. A few friends had told me when they got to know of my transfer that I would love the place, but I never believed it. I do now. There's so much freedom, so much potential. This city just lives so much more. The fact that I can take a train to the beach at 10 at night and get back to my home well in time for office next day. The fact that I can order food from a restaurant at 1 am. And then breakfast again at 7 am. The fact that I can easily find an auto-rickshaw at 4 am in the morning (and I have tried doing that). Mumbai never sleeps.

The vada-pav. The pav-bhaji. The fish. The bhel. Yeah, well, a city for me is defined largely by its food. Delhi still scores higher because of that.

And of course I enjoy being able to converse in Hindi for a change, instead of battling speaking in any non-Kannada language with the awful Bangalore auto-wallahs.

I also had this misconception about the people of Mumbai. I would have to make another post sometime soon about the people of Mumbai, but I have fairly enjoyed it here. Maybe partly because this is being in Bihar all over again.

The distances hurt a bit. I stay in Goregaon, in a flat I am really proud of, and Colaba and Nariman Point seem like parts of a different planet altogether. But I'll get there one of these days. My office is in Santacruz, so I can afford to stay in the suburbs. I look forward to eating Bheja Fry at one of those fantastic restaurants in Town and sitting for hours at one of those Marine Drive benches reading a novel.

Before I forget, what made me want to write here today after such a long while was the music from Kaminey. I just listened to the whole soundtrack a short while back, and I am in love with Vishal Bhardwaj right now. I might buy an iPod Touch because of this.

Aaja aaja dil nichodein!

Kannadiga films

Ambareesh has got to be the ugliest former-actor in the world (too scary to put on my blog). Though considering that he was part of the Kannada film industry, which has by far the ugliest actors I have known in any other part of India, or world, he can be forgiven. If you have seen Dr Rajkumar's videos, you would know what I mean (as an aside, if pubs in Bangalore used to have singers like that, it's hardly surprising that the current government has a low opinion of these joints). This is the chap whose death made people go on a rampage in Bangalore, burning vehicles and stuff. Sad.

You would argue that at least some of these chaps are/were good actors. My response to that would be - Go get your head checked! South India is known for its melodramatic films, the kind Hindi films got done with in the mid-80s. And the actors, or male protagonists to be more accurate (as they can hardly be called 'actors'), know only one thing - hamming. Maybe, and just maybe, some of the Malayalam actors could count as people with acting skills, but one look at the movies of MGR, NTR and all those other worshipped chaps would make you feel rather shocked that you weren't around to take their place - you stood as good a chance.

Leaving Bengaluru - 2

My morning-afters are also moments of realization, except that I don't need to use this. I just come to my blog and realize that I have made a rather strongly worded post in a condition of drunken-ness. It would be obvious to most of you that the only time I feel creative enough these days to write anything is when I am slightly (or a little more than slightly) drunk. I don't lie after drinking, but I do end up making posts that amplify my feelings.

So, even though I don't think anyone's opinion is going to get influenced by my post, I feel I need to write a bit about my previous post.

I did go through a brief period of discomfort when I got to know that I would have to move to Mumbai, unless I resigned from my job (a thought that I confess hasn't been completely absent in the last few weeks), but I got over it soon enough. Much as I have come to like this city, or at least town (calling it an overgrown village is a little too cruel), I have started to look forward to moving to Mumbai. Which does come as a surprise. When I had visited Mumbai in August last year, I had absolutely hated the place, maybe partly because it was marred by loss of my wallet and a one-day, tiring, trip to Singapore, during which I fell ill and developed a hatred of salads that lasted over a month. But, my visit last weekend to look for a flat made me realize that it is as good or as bad as any other city in India. And just as I have ended up loving Delhi, Kolkata and Bangalore over the last decade, I am sure Mumbai will also grow on me. Quite a geographical distribution of my love, you would agree.

And Mumbai is definitely a better option in terms of gaining a semblance of social life. Even if I don't meet any of my hundreds of acquaintances there, at least taking that 5-minute auto rickshaw ride to my bro's place will not stop. I pray he doesn't take up a job in Bangalore now!

As far as my rants about people of Bangalore is concerned, even though I don't feel as strongly as the post might have made one feel, I do think there is a problem that the city faces in that respect. For a large section of the population in Bangalore - the not-so-well-off-ones - the IT revolution and the inflow of people from other parts of the country, particularly from the North, has been very disconcerting. It has brought about a change in the living standards of the upper-middle-class sections of Bangalore as well, but I am not sure the fruits have reached the lower sections. If anything, they have felt more left out, been made more aware of their shortcomings. Their response is reflected in the rapid increase in crime rate in the city, very often directed towards the IT professionals. I also feel this unrest, this frustration, is responsible for the attacks against women. There is this helplessness that a lot of men, who don't see themselves being a part of this growth, must feel.

On the other hand, there is this section of people in Bangalore, whom I find even more pathetic. These people rue the demolition of every ruined theater, closing of every loss-making bookshop, shutting down of every unfrequented restaurant, in the name of culture. They are the equivalents of jhola-wallahs of JNU in Delhi, or the frustrated communists spread all over Kolkata, who just suffer from a severe case of cultural constipation.

Even though I mentioned some stuff about Kannadiga culture in my last post, I think I am probably the person with the least respect for this sacred cow called culture. I don't think there is anything called culture in terms of the broad brush-strokes people tend to define it as. My thesis on culture still needs some time before I write about it here, but I do find these 'cultured' Bangaloreans, many of whom meet regularly at that really pathetic restaurant called Koshy's or wax eloquent in Time Out's Bangalore edition about things so pointless that I can't even recall right now, indescribably sad. Bangalore deserves better.

There is one section that I really enjoy interacting with. Not that I have had the privilege of doing that much, thanks to the largely insulated, secluded, life I have lived over the last one year. This section is Bangalore's hope, and thankfully comprises a large fraction of Bangalore's population. People who have lived in Basavangudi, Rajajinagar, Jainagar, JP Nagar, and all other parts that I haven't heard of. People who have been here for multiple generations, and love this place, and have taken its change in their stride. Many of these people probably don't enjoy the turn their city's fortunes have taken, but do realize that it was inevitable.

Unfortunately, most of these people are too content in their nice houses, great jobs, loving families and wholesome bisi-bele-bath. They are the quintessential middle-class, or upper-middle-class if you will, which tends to do well in all situations.

Bangalore has actually changed over the course of the one year I have been here. It's continuously evolving, changing, maybe faster than any other city of a comparable size is. Whether it changes for the better, whether it becomes more accepting, or ends up being a mess that it seems headed for right now, depends on these people.

Well, yeah, I have had a few beers again.

Leaving Bengaluru

I had expected that I would hate leaving Bangalore. But I have actually been looking forward to leaving this excuse for a city since the time I got to know that I have been transferred.

Don't get me wrong. There are a lot of things that I like about this place. The climate for one. The fact that it is a cheaper place than any other city in India (or abroad) I would want to be in. The fact that there is one really nice book-shop on Church Street here (as against none in most other cities). But those should not be the best reasons to like a city. The main reason why one should like a city is its people. And I think Bangalore scores quite low on that count.

The people of Bangalore have still not been able to come to terms with the fact that their city (or erstwhile overgrown village) is not the same Kannadiga-dominated place it used to be 10-15 years back. They still expect people to learn Kannada, not realizing that the city has developed and grown because people from other parts of India have come to work here. Bangalore, unlike Mumbai or Delhi, is still uncomfortable with its cosmopolitan-ness, and I doubt it'll be able to come to terms with it in the near future. It's sad, because the city deserves better natives.

Kannadigas are an inherently insecure people, perennially worried that the more identifiable Madrasis (Tams), the more interesting Mallus or the more successful Gults overshadow them. They actually do. I wasn't aware of a distinct Kannadiga culture till I came to Bangalore, and I am not sure it can still be called one ("distinct culture") just as yet.

The recent spurt in ill-treatment of women hasn't endeared the Kannadiga "culture" to me particularly either. Bangalore, or at least one section of it, has had this elitist hangover from the Brit times, which is fast diluting in the face of the BJP-backed core Kanndiga ideology.

Karnataka is slowly taking over Bangalore. Bangalore is dying.

The verdict on whether Mumbai scores over Bangalore would be settled one year from now.

To Let - a 2BHK near Cambridge Layout

Am trying to help my land-lord find a tenant to replace me, so that he doesn't lose out on any rent when I move to Mumbai. No, this is not due to some long-lost goodness in my heart that has suddenly woken up thanks to the racket that all those religious fanatics are creating close to my home. I am hoping to patao the land-lord to forgo the extra rent I would be liable to pay considering that I am leaving without proper notice beforehand. No, my company does not reimburse that, as some others seem to do.

Selling a house is about as much fun as selling a project/company, which I do for a living. It's particularly weird letting strangers go through my flat while I am away. Even weirder letting them do that when I am at home. Feels like a doctor probing you in the wrong kinds of places. And my home is not even as clean as I am.

I had volunteered to clean up my flat (it's not that unkempt anyway actually) before my land-lord started bringing in potential tenants on a guided tour, but he said this way it gives a more lived-in, personal, feeling.

One of the chaps who responded to my ad was a Muslim guy. Just like I did with all the other people who have responded to my ad on Sulekha, I called him up, gave some basic info about the place and then passed on my land-lord's number. Turns out my land-lord told him in the first call that the flat is taken. It's not. I really can't think of a good reason why he would do that.

If religion is the opiate of the masses, Indians must be perpetually high. The racket I was referring to ended a few days back actually, but it lasted long enough. I have no clue which of our 10,000 gods' birthdays they were celebrating, but they did leave no stone unturned for the festivities. Quite literally actually, since they completely overhauled a dumping ground close to my place, and turned it into a makeshift pandaal facing the Vinayaka Temple close to it (and left it an even worse mess after that).

And once they had ensured that they had set up a structure big enough that would make two-way traffic even more difficult than it normally is, they brought in a whole bunch of pot-bellied priests, who would keep reciting all these hymns the whole day through. On really loud loud-speakers. This lasted for 3-4 days. They had the good sense of shutting up after around 9 or so in the evening. But, they would start again early in the morning. Didn't let me sleep late on the weekend. And I'll never forgive them for that.

Despite all these occasional issues, the locality where I stay is still a good, safe, family-oriented one.