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A Brave Bollywood Romance

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In a scene from the film Mirzya , Suchitra and Adil burst into laughter having realised that they have finally escaped the clutches of the world which is out to take away from them their love. Later they are captured and killed but that laughter echoed through the film for me. It was no ordinary laughter. It was a laughter of revolt. A revolt agains the diktats of the world. A diktat which had drawn between them an unsurpassable wall of rich and poor, a stable boy and a princess. But the two didn't care. Their love had drawn them magnetically to each other. A love which began in births before the one they were living.  It was an obsession, this love of theirs. The kind of love that makes a 14 year old Monish shoot down a teacher who had punished his love with a cane. The kind of love that would make Adil hide his true identity from Suchitra lest she should fall in love with him again and break off her marriage with the Prince. But it is indeed difficult, nay impossible, to
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The Age of Kali: From Note-ban to Tumpocracy

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These have been remarkable last few weeks. Somebody, who nobody thought could even win the Republican Presidential nomination, won the race to the White House. And in an unprecedented move, the Indian Prime Minister Modi banned Rupees 500 and 1000 notes in an alleged effort to curb black money. Maybe it was not so unprecedented as another Indian Prime Minister with similar first two letters MO, Morarji Desai has done it before. But the way the move has sent the people into a tailspin is certainly unprecedented. Here is my take on the two earth-shattering events: Earth-shattering event # 1-Trump's Victory: To me personally, the victory didn't come as a surprise. I had expected Trump to win by a landslide. That is not because I thought he was more deserving for the Oval Office than the former first lady but because he was just what the Americans seemed to want at this moment. Top among that being a change in the Democratic way of governance. Anti-incumbency, as we call th
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gAGEing

I saw a post on Facebook a few days ago. It was that of one of my Facebook friends posing next to Shiv Khera. The post said, "bumped into Shiv Khera for the second time. As you can see, he was quite happy to see me." Mr. Khera, for those who don't already know, has been the bestselling author of books like 'You Can Win' and 'Freedom is not Free'. He is one of my favourite authors. His 'You Can Win' came out in 1998. I remember reading this book as a teenager. Its stories inspired me immensely. Seeing the Facebook post about Mr. Khera brought back old memories. But something that surprised me painfully is how much Mr. Khera has aged. I googled his age and found that he is about 54 but he looked as old as 70 in the picture. I guess he works too hard and age is taking a toll on him. I do wish that such a potion existed that could prevent the effects of ageing. Or better still, that could stop ageing itself. And we could all be Peter Pans in our Never
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About Fans

I have been an SRK fan for long now. Even when he has churned out not so decent films, I've always admired the man behind the work. His film, 'Fan' is not one of his not so decent films. It is, in fact, one of the best films to have come out in recent times. It touches upon a topic that anyone who has ever admired someone can relate with. I certainly could. There are many whom I admire from various fields of endeavour, be it in  art, literature, films or politics. And whether it's Shakespeare or Scorsese; Michelangelo or Gandhi, I have felt at one with them through their work even though I haven't met them or talked to them. It's almost like having many soulmates. It's just that they connect with you through their work. They may not know us but they talk with us nevertheless through their work. Doesn't matter whether the work was made 5 weeks ago or 500 years ago.  Like the character of Gaurav in this film, 'Fan', I often wonder what it would b
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A Substitute History

Sometimes, I wonder whether any of us are aware of the entire history. One, of course, is the history of this world. Imagine how much more glorious would be the history of the entire universe. The world where we live is but nothing compared to the infinite number of phenomenons existent in outer space. The Sun itself, without whose help no life could sustain itself on the planet, is capable of including millions of earths like ours. We are part of a galaxy known as the Milky Way, which consists of billions of planets. And there are trillions of galaxies within this universe. Some now believe that there are actually seven universes.  The meta-physicists or the Mystics say that the universe is an illusion. While the physicists believe that it's infinite. So either there is none or there is infinity. Come to think of it. What are the chances of our being alone in such a vast universe as this. Within our own Galaxy, there could be an uncountable number of planets with the right env
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The Omnipresent

So finally I've begun writing about the greatest story ever told: the Human History. And I don't intend to begin by talking dryly about Harappans or Mesopotamians here. I want to start by using the three words found at the start of the world's most read text: "In the beginning". And I want to start by talking about History's greatest hero and most revered being: God (and He's still going strong, by the way). So, in the beginning, we had God who created everything around us. Or so the Holy books say. Throughout history, if there's anyone who has most impacted our lives without actually having ever been seen, it is God. From our very birth onwards, what we eat, what we wear, how we see the world around us is dictated by our religions. And all this is done to ensure that our guy in the sky doesn't get mad on us. He is in everyone, in everything and he is all-knowing. He is perfect, the purest and without his wish, not even a leaf can move. But you
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A Look Back

My favourite book is Mr. Nehru's 'Glimpses of World History'. Even now when I stumble upon this book, I am transported back into the time when I first read it. When I was very young, only thirteen. And though the letters written by Mr. Nehru were meant for his daughter, they were pieces of writing that any child could have related completely with, even if that child in question was I. Friday morning, when you wake up and realise that your office is later today than usual, and you chance to see a book that you haven't gone back to for ages. You begin reading it and it were as if you were sitting right next to the author. Seeing him tell his story. And you suddenly move back a hundred years in time. Well, about 86 years to be exact. 26 of the last 86 years in which I myself have walked this earth. Still finding my way. Not 'there' yet. But when you compare that quarter of a century to the time that has passed in human history, you are reminded of the smallness o
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