Bye Bye 2014: Contemplating on Good, Bad and Ugly

The minty scoop of ice-cream melt into the tongue and swirling sensation of wine drops rolled inside the mouth, making it an enjoyable and sinful treat. A year that would soon be buried in the past as 2014 calendars is dumped to be replaced by a fresh one. The new diary, calendar and agenda would soon be set for 2015. Happy New Year.

2014 was a crazy year and a repetition of the earlier one, 2013. Two bad years rolled into one where I stepped into darkness, getting myself into crazy stuffs. It was frustrating to see things not falling into the right place and the moments where light inside the tunnel eluded my existence. It started crazily with me resigning from the job in the first week of January. By nature, I am a very instinctive person. I wasn't agreeing with the way things was shaping up and during the briefing session, took my decision. Post briefing, grabbed a coffee and lit a cigarette. Decision was taken. It was the start of a long and tiresome journey, days and months surviving and hanging on the thread. I became restless. 

There were such moments of frustration when extreme negative thoughts popped in and couldn't control ugly thoughts. It was a vulnerable period and I felt helpless fighting the inner demons cum psychological illness plaguing me. I was running late with bank threatening me with dire consequences for lateness on loan, credit card was cancelled and EMI walon on my trail. I became restless, finicky and crabby. Getting irritated at the slightest thing and over hyped, I was in a hurry to sort things out, chucked out some people from life the time you know who are your real friends are and need to get things right in the head.

A guy who was taking things for granted and who was a friend for years got it from me. I decided, enough was enough and screwed him with words.I told him off and sad things reached there but had to tell the naked truth to him. I am happy it happened since the true colors of the chamaleon was exposed.

There were the bad moments. It continued till the second half of the year and things bottled inside me. I choose the face things that wasn't working and sailed through. Slowly, the scattered thread picked and got a new job in a magazine. I made a comeback to the company where I had three best years and glad that I made the decision. New avenues were opened with freelancing for websites such as Indie Icons, blowing my trumpet on The Indian Trumpet. Dabbling with book reviews was a first for me and it's been cherry on the cake with one thing leading to another. Blessed I was to review books by super talented authors such as Shuchi Singh Kalra, Sundari Venkatraman and India was One fame which got me visibility. Today, many authors approach me to review their books. Just yesterday, actor Olivier Lafont playing Suhas Tandon in Three idiots approached me to review his first book, Warrior.

The year where my former boss whom I hold in high esteem made her comeback to head our magazine which postponed plans to move away from the company. The light and memorable moments were made possible by blogger friends, whom I call the extended family on FB and Twitter.

There was the bad, ugly and good. I choose to remember the priceless memories in the dying seconds, minutes and hours. Our FB, Twitter and Blogger friends. I owe it to you despite distance separate us.

Happy New Year 2015 and wish loads of love, happiness and fulfillment.

There is always light after darkness.

Love

Vishal

Soaring spirits of soul in the new season

The bells chimed to glory,

fire crackers flung to an escalating high reaching the blue sky.

Soaring spirits renew hope and strengthening bond.

Promises unkept, turning a leaf on past glory and disappointment,

as souls are born again.

Embracing the world like a new born, eyes sparked with curiosity to explore brand new avenues and never shying away from pushing the self towards the edge.

There shall be unplanned friendship, new love and falling from grace.

Yet! The modest heart shall not be trapped in the illusion of grandeur or mysticism of the world.

Life shall knock the self down,

nursing the wounds, one shall get up slowly, facing adversity and brushing aside sobbing story.

A new beginning is on the way.

Fierce and daunting spirit to lift all souls together,

singing the song of life.

Three cheers to the New Season.

Happy New Year 

2015 is Ghar Waapsi, a blend of 'New' Year cocktail

Mommy Returns, Bhootnath Returns and Singham Returns need to take a leaf since we are minutes and seconds away from the good ole’ Sanskari days. It’s called, ‘Ghar Waapsi’ at the stroke of midnight. The RSS is hitting their stomach with a bang doing bang bang for their success in the scripted blockbuster ‘Ghar Wapsi.’ An anti-dote to the modern day of Ramayana-move over The Secrets of Nagas’  to convert and re-convert ‘Hindus’ coz India is a Hindu state first, NO.

Swacch Bharat re-plugged with the meteoric rise of extreme right ‘Hindu’ fundamentalists. It should be the dhamakedaar dialogue of the year ‘Ghar Waapsi.’ Time to move over ‘Ache Din’ and ‘Ab Aahi Gaye Modi Sarkar’, it’s Ghar Wapsi piping Modi one-liners to the post.

Last heard, the RSS Walon is planning to welcome the year clinking cocktail glasses with a Dharna a la Kejriwal, asking PM Modi to ban all social networking sites like Facebook and, of course, whatsapp since it’s a by-product of western culture infiltrating India and polluting young minds. The likes of Sunny Leone and Sherlyn Chopra will soon be out of work as skin showing will flow out of the window and will be invited to embrace Sanyasi in Ashrams. The kissing Babas will fall sway to the perfume of spirituality as their lotus feet will be the solace for the damsels in distress.

This is true Ghar Waapsi, according to spoke people of the Shakha. There will be a police ban on erotic movies and illegal viewing of pornography-cum-intimate materials on websites and magazines. You know why? Because, some spiritual people have just discovered a ‘scientific fact’ that sexual performance decreases mental concentration and reduces life span.

A new law is in the offing: Every male must deposit their sperms with the Government and will be rationed on demand to procreate because ‘Ghar Waapsi’ will be the buzz of 2015. We are in for a huge revolution in India to clean our great culture of all evils, perpetrated by man-kind.

HRD Minister and Yale’d,  Smriti Irani will announce a pet project in all schools and colleges, ‘Kyon Ki Sanskari Kabhi Bhi Hindustani Sabyata Tha’. Our text books will contain only scriptures of Ramayana, encouraging every child to be a pious Hindu and Non-Hindus to convert in truly ‘Ghar Waapsi’ fashion. Failure to do so will entail that our children will not be allowed to take exams or will get a zero note.

It’s the award of the year to take the pie. The ‘funtoons’ in real life are jumping the fray, fighting  and kicking each other a la Bum Be Laat to take the award home. The 2014 Award of the year goes to: Baba Ramdev, for saving Hindu religion from PK. Next in line: Rashtriya Sevak Sangh and Vishwa Hindu Parishad slugging it out at No. 2. Wait, we are not done. The outsider, Shiv Sena is sending a rocket: daring PM Modi to capture Dawood in an Osama-like operation. Who will make 31^st December their’s? Your take and don’t forget to put all your money on the dark horse. Nostradamus has just failed.

Whipped a freezy ice-cream, pour some liquor to trade New Year Eve and ushering in brand new 2015 filled with idiosyncrasies coz 2015 gonna be a super- hot and spicy year with phunny one-liners, endorsed by our politicians and religious men to beat each other. So much for the lime light!

Happy New Year 2015

Char Botal Vodka

Vishal

WoW! Maya, The Illusion & Me converse about 'A New Beginning.'

I am participating in the prompt, 'A New Beginning' as part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Maya, The Illusion & Me converse about 'A New Beginning.'

Every year, it's the same old story with you, she says. A new beginning laden with fresh hopes, dreams and leaving the past behind. You are stuck in a rude dude, she sensuously tells me, stroking my lip with her red hot nail polish.

Who are you? I ask, "A tempest."

"I am Maya (The Illusion) may be. An object of sensuality who is taking you on my bed. You make make love to me since you are a weak person. I am making you fall weak on the needs. Perhaps, you will make love to me, kiss me all over and be one with me. I shall disappear in a while. One thing for sure: You live in a world of illusion. This is why, you are lying naked with me, beneath the white sheet."

"Hell!"

"Yeah, hell," she smiles. "You know how you sound every year when you say that you shall make a new beginning. Monotonous! You are stuck in a rut like the routine sex we just had."

I am confused. But, who is she?, I wonder. She got the gut to tell me the truth. It's the truth. May be! How did I land up with Maya, the illusion, falling sway to her charms. How dare she tells me all that?

She got up from the bed, walked naked in her crystal clear body made of ice and pulled her nightie. She held my hand, dressed me up and said, "Come." She brewed two cups of coffee and smiles, "Let me take you to the haven of truth and you will face the reality only if you allow it." She became gentle.

"Why is it that you never forget the past?," she asked.

I protest, "But, that's not true."

"It's been six years. How come you have never been able to forget Dia? Every year, you take resolutions that Dia is not a part of your life and you shall move on. But, she is in not just your past but present. You shy away from falling in love. The truth is that you are scared. All it needs is a delete button. You must watch Jab We Met again."

"Ok! I am listening," I am feeling irritated.

"The past failures gnaws you and you are dying every single day. The failure in exams and the past job that made your life hell. You are not able to come to terms with the frustrating fact that you gave everything in your career and you were dealt a blow. You need to let go of you past relationships with people. You lack the courage and guts to get things going, blaming everything on destiny. You cannot remove the fear that plague your existence. And people's opinion about you is holding back the success waiting to crown you. Only then, a new beginning will take place."

I was at a loss of words, not knowing how to react. This woman knows everything about me. She's been telling how nurture false hopes which crash as the year unfurl itself. She is right. I need to look up to a new beginning, getting rid of the mental blocks and negative thoughts that affect my life.

"Anything else?" I ask.

"No," she smiles. "You've read my mind and you already have all the answers. I shall leave now. Time for a new beginning and forget that we ever met, made love and helped you to see the real picture.

The mysterious woman, draped in long, white robe bend towards me to forcefully smooch me for the longest time. She seductive says, "This is the longest kiss. It will remain etched in your soul, reminding you every second that a new beginning is not just lofty thoughts, words but you must sprang into action. Make your life worth it every moment. You deserve happiness and joy because you are a special person who is destined to achieve extraordinary things in life. Happy New Year."

Slowly, she turns into ashes and what remained was dust scattered on the marble floor in the kitchen. 'It's a New Beginning.'

Chiming bells of Joy and Santa: Merry X-Mas

Bells chime in, miniature Santa Claus adorn X-mas tree, decorated with toys and balloons.

Santa Claus is perched atop and smiles at the snowy beauty of the festive season.

Ringing in with new promises and happiness,

filled with joy and dreams,

pure fantasy echoing delight felt and lived by children.

The joy of waiting for Santa and falling asleep on tiny, innocent ears.

A sudden whisper by Santa,

yet the cute heart will sleep its way to heaven, dreaming of gifts.

It's the perfect season.

 It's Christmas.

The X-mas tree stands tall with gifts and toys to warm the contented heart.

Jumping with joy and tree hugging,

the child's heart warm for a small toy that would give happiness.

Yet! It can only wish for happiness.

The parent's meager income cannot afford the humble toy,

as the child shed a tear or two.

Pinning for a miracle, the father dons the mantle of Santa,

sacrificing lil penny, sleeping on empty stomach throughout the year,

slink the super fast car below the child's cot.

Leaping on his foot, he exudes in sheer delight.

After all, Santa listened to the cry of his heart.

It's X-mas,

no child should be deprived of happiness.

Merry X-mas

Share and spread some love

Vishal

WoW: When my smart phone went missing

This post 'When my smart phone went missing'is part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Damn!!! Where have I put the phone? Fuck! It just cannot happen again. Re-visiting the ugly past of losing the second smart in my life. I am not gonna survive like that without my handset. 21k gone waste like water seeping its way in the mud. What a waste!I call on my number!!! S*** it's switched off. I became red with seething anger, mourning the death of most prized buddy taken away from me. I tell Mom, "No luck! It's gone." She tells me to keep the bus ticket and tomorrow morning, jump straight to the bus terminus before going to the cops. I think, I am going to die right now. The energy is drained from the body and feel weak. I try to maintain my calm and composure, ready to kick myself in the ass. Now, no whatsapp, FB or checking mail on phone. How am I gonna survive without the smart phone!

I take a cigarette and walk past the door to smoke on the verandah. Smoking calms. I try to recollect the past events, unfurling itself on this fateful Friday.

Strolling past Marine Drive at night, I miss listening to songs on the smart phone,nursing my wounds and pinging of friends on whatsapp, the spicy Alia Bhatt forwards. I cannot come to terms that I have to borrow a phone from a friend and walking long distance to fish for a boot, a remote possibility in India's cosmo world. I feel like kicking myself on the butt, for being so careless about the phone.

Slowly coming to terms with life minus smart phone, I spend time in cafes, reading newspapers and books, chatting with strangers bout life, metaphysical joy and happiness. Despite my grand deception of losing a part of me within the handset miraculously disappearing out of thin ear, there is a certain happiness flowing in the air that I am able to reconnect with the self and making human contact, something that I was so alien to and caught in the fake in the passion of everything hi fi.

At times, I forget that the smart phone is not in the pocket and I slip the fingers which hit the emptiness in life, dictated by the world of gadgets and social media. The mind, somehow, verges to the first expensive Nokia handset that I lost in a matter of three months inside the hostel room, exactly on same day and date I got it at the phone shop for 10k, a princely sum for a student at Mumbai.

It was a Saturday. I hardly slept during the night and dashed for lecture in the morning. On my way back from Santacruz, I wondered whether I should hop at Bandra Bandstand for my weekly Latte dose. But, the inner voice directed me to miss hopping at Bandra and jump straight to sleep in the room. I lay on the bed, putting the handset beneath the pillow and slept. I wake up to see the phone missing. I freaked out, only to realize that I let the door open, inviting expert hands to conjure magic tricks with the pillow and handset.

Prologue:

Where on earth have I put the HTC handset!! I called a couple of times but the handset is switched off and gone totally blank. The 'lucky' one must have been having a field day and Santa has come earlier for them. S**** the stupid me who has now lost the third handset. Record!!! I take another drag from the Marlboro cigarette and tried to retrieve my memory trove. I was sitting in the bus, listening to songs and when the bus hit the stop, I got up with the lap-top bag. Point one: I must have left it on the seat for grab.

I stopped at the shop to buy stuffs and, in a hurry, I must have left it on the counter. No point racking the brain now. The smart phone is gone and end of a love story of checking office emails, whatsapp and FB.

Taking a detour inside mom room, I am searching for something when my eyes hit a shiny object, white coated and sleek. F***! I just can't believe my eyes. It's my HTC One X. What the phone is doing on top of the drawe? Is Someone playing truant with me!

Wait! Now, I remember. When I reached home, my cousin called on the handset and we indulged in a passionate B-town and political chat, before passing the phone to Mom. I went inside Mom's room to change into shorts. Inspecting the phone, I saw that by mistake, the handset turned into 'Airplane mode' reason for being insensitive to my needs.

Lesson learned: Always be careful when you keep your prized possession. Take a habit to break away from your phone to add a human touch to your relationships, chatting with parents, friends and your loved ones.

PS: The incidents narrated in the prompt is real and misplacing the phone happened to me, two weeks back. Yeah! I freaked. Thanks, Blogadda for this one.

Not Children Humanity is Dead!

"Whoever kills a person (unjustly),it is as though he has killed all mankind." (Qur'an, 5:32).

No religion teaches us to murder someone or worst take the lives of innocent people and children. Small kids are little flowers that bloom into fine human beings, their eyes twinkle with dreams and they adorn our world. Don't we call babies bundle of joys?

I couldn't react when I heard terrorists stormed a school in Peshawar, Pakistan on Wednesday to gun down young and innocent lives. Angst filled my heart on December 16. Of course, the date is a grim reminder of another heinous crime, the brutal rape of 'Nirbhaya.' Not again! I said. My heart cried a lot when I imagine the pain inflicted on parents and innocent children lying in a pool of blood.

What is the fault of the innocent children. Questions are still raging in my mind. People taking the lives of children do not deserve to be called humans. No! They are not humans and please, you terrorists, don't call yourself pious or God fearing. How can you kill 'Children of God.' You are cowards who ruthlessly take the lives of small children. How on earth can you imagine of touching children? I wonder whether your hands trembled once before pressing the trigger. It's high time we stop preaching about religion. Like a friend remarked on Facebook and I fully endorse that, I shall not be religious from today. If being religious-here, I mean, any religion-leads to that, it's pointless to fall sway to discourse.

Image credit: Google/Facebook

I have lost faith in humanity when I see that a bunch of crazy people go on a killing spree, taking the lives of innocent souls. What is the motive of the crime? What do they want to prove? Instill fear in people, the fear of education, the fear of elevating the self beyond human prejudices! They are terrorists giving a bad name to faith. Islam is a religion that preaches peace and Jihad for me, a non-Muslim, means waging a war against the evil in society, rape, crime, murder and violence. First, clean your soul and wage Jihad against the evil in you. It hold true for any religion, be it a Hindu, Muslim or Christian.

What irks me is that some crazy folks blamed it on Pakistan, saying they getting a taste of their own medicine. Sorry folks! It's no time to debate on what's wrong with Pakistan and what wrong they've done. Two wrongs doesn't make it right. If you, as a Hindu, you are uttering such words, I don't consider you better than the terrorists who took the lives of innocent children. Children are children everywhere and it doesn't matter which state, region or country.

There are several questions that I want to ask to the forces of evil but don't know where to start and where to finish. Is humanity dead? It's disturbing to see such ugly face who doesn't bat an eye lid to destroy families and children. It is not a question of one religion but sea of humanity. Our future is at stake and we need to do something for the future generation. Let's sow the seed of love to beat hatred in this world. Small coffins are a big burden to carry. We shall not let hate defeat our purpose.

My heart goes to the innocent children and their parents whose lives were destroyed for no fault of them.

Spread Love and not Hate

Vishal

Sexual Violence against women: Safety, agression and fading hope

Another crime and sexual violence against women reminds us of the Black December we witnessed two years back after the heinous crime that shook our world. We didn't want another Nirbhaya to happen. A grim reality in India, from plush cities to obscure villages. that doesn't seem to stop. I highly oppose the label of Delhi as Rape Capital which is a cliche that will dilute the cause of fighting against rape.

The irony of the situation is that Uber cab, connected to smart phone applications was judged safe for a woman in a city and the country as a whole, that took a beating as a result of heinous crimes such as rape committed against women. It's a real tragedy when we see how the male aggression is hitting such a high octane. When politicians 'indirectly'condone such patriarchal male assault with catch-phrase like, 'Ladke hain Galati Ho Jati Hai,' one might argue where we have gone wrong. The woman, who is a victim in most of the cases, is blamed for wearing short skirts or showing her legs when those bastards shamelessly commit crime  without showing the slightest remorse.

When both men and 'some'women in society blame a girl and fail to educate their sons on how to respect someone, it makes me wonder what shit we teach our boys?  It's perfectly cool and normal to show their masculinity and a woman saying No to their advances is a personal insult or injury, for that matter. Tell me, how the girl going for a walk on the street will feel safe when an asshole makes sick comment on her body or she is being groped in the train? For how long, should she remain silent just because he is a man, no matter how sick this behavior is? How many of us will come in defense of a girl protesting against dirty looks? Such things make me very pessimist on our apathy which sucks?

We've debated at length on so-called reform in our laws that deal in a very lenient manner on matters pertaining to verbal, sexual assault and rape. Piece-meal legislation just doesn't help to curb the crime. Authorities need to come up with strict laws dealing the strict punishments that serve as a deterrent to such crimes. Shaming the criminals by plastering their pictures all over the place is one way to create awareness by letting the public know that they are the bad guys. I also believe in chemical castration that will go a long way to serve as a reminder.

Anyways! The objective of this post is not to tell the Indian Government or authorities across the globe what should be done to prevent such crimes. It's high time we educate our sons on how to behave with a woman and treat her as equal. It's not just about boosting your stupid male ego, adding fuel to the false ego that you have the right to physically harm someone because of ascribed features acquired at birth. For once, it sends shiver down my spine as a man if someone would inside an iron rod inside me or some penis will forcefully enter me much against my wish. How would I feel as man? It is important that we, men, think in those terms to try understand the trauma a women, victim of rape, is going through.

We point accusatory fingers at women with this bullshit of staying late, whether at work or hanging out somewhere during the night, dressing from top-to-toe or being accompanied by a male during the course of duty to restrict women freedom. Agree, women are easy targets by perverts! But, let's cast aside this moral sermon which is utter rubbish so that we don't lose track of the real debate or fight against the crime.

As far as improvement is concerned in terms of safety for women, I just hope that I don't lose the fading  hope. One wonder whether we should take the law in our hands since protests are not really happening to bring change.

The Lingaa is back

The Lingum is back! Don't angry him. He will perform a somersault and fight like a wild tiger to protect his virginity against the enemy besieging, hell bent to break its penance in a world filled with dirty mind. Gandi Baat, Gandi Baat, Gandi Gandi Baat. The long stick thrust in the air as it pops straight like mouth-watering Gulab jamun for a blissful munch.

Fire your dirty mind, fellas. I am not speaking of the Phallus or the Shiva-Linga, symbol of the phallus, representing the fervor Lord Shiv. Pouring holy water to appease the fury of Lord Shiva, think again! Yeah! I am not imagining someone making seductive movies, gyrating mind and body, swaying the pelvic thrust to one's delight. I am speaking of the Master of Impossibilities and what he can do! See! I told. Again, you thinking Gandi! Gandi!! Hey, Bhagwan!!!!!

Come December 12, we shall sing Happy Birthday to Rajinikant, our superstar Rajini coming with a double dhamaka. Lingaa, an ode to Rajni Sir. Will he or won't he do what he can do? Nike (y) will change its tag line, 'Just Did It' to 'We didn't, Rajnikant Did It' in Lingaa. Over-sexualized and over-charged Rajni fans, I am telling you, are all over the place for a taste of Rajini's Lingaa. Hold on! Fellas! You gotta twist your dirty minds! Why you are now associating Superstar Rajini with Lingum, it's Lingaa dirty fellas? I bet you getting an orgasm of sort, waiting for Shivaji Rai Gaikwad doing the lingum of sort flying like UFO to pounce on the villains like tornado and fire crackers. 

Can you do what Rajini do? I am sure you will burn your fingers. Still doubtful about that our new-age ling'um, oops, Rajini can do. Ok!! I challenge you on your terrain: Can you bag Rs 200 crores for your lingaa? See! You can't! Only Rajinikant can do it. And, you gotta the nerves to tell me that it's all fad watching Rajinkant and that he doesn't know the deep and dark secrets of Netas, Abhinetas and bimbos of the Sherlyn, Sherwat, Dimpy Mahajan and Sunny-baby. 

Our new Lingaa can stop the war if he wants to by brandishing his lethal weapon, aka, Lingaa pistol and the mere twitching of his moustache will make the Pakistani rifle shooters and jawans abandon their post. Now, you know what PM Modi should do? He should stand in deference in front of the Lingaa on December 12, showering petals and holy water on Rajni-Sir and India will reach double-digit economic growth, prosperity. Of course, no need for the Government to file cases in Supreme Court and the mere threat of Rajni-Sir showing lingaa will brought back all black money stacked in Videsh.

Now, who needs Father Christmas when Rajni Sir's Lingaa is back to fetch us goodies and, of course, gifts, toys, paisa and wishes from Santa Claus. Move over Santa Claus this season coz Superstar Rajni is back with a bang. The hundreds hundreds crores for him and wish for us that miracles will happen as we worship the Lingaa. See! I tell you Rajni Sir can shut the mouths of the mothers and fathers of stupidity. Move over Action Jackson and Shakers! Let's do the Lungi Dance and put a yo-yo in the mouths of the advocates hell bent to 'saffronizing' our text books and the Sadhvi of the epic 'Niranjan Jyoti'.

Wishing plenty of goodies triggered with Linaa, bearing the hall mark of the father of possibilities as we reach for the sky, the one and only Rajnikant.

PS: This post written in good humor to tickle your funny bones and is not meant to offend anybody's sensibility, moral, religious or otherwise.

Lingally Yours

Vishal

Warrior of dreams flirting with danger

I jumped out of the bed, running for cover and furious throwing things away, unearthing my deadly weapon. In the fury, I switched off the light to confuse the attackers. Gosh! I feel sloshed! I feeling sleeping and my eyes are drowsy. I am scared to death for I know they gonna get an edge on me. Suddenly, I am sleepwalking and body oscillating, to and fro. Fuck! I tell myself. I gotta get control of the body. They hitting me on my face, legs and stomach. I yell. Yet! I ain't feeling any body. What kind of violence is that?, I stammered.

Finally, after sustaining blows, I retrieve my deadly weapons and flings the object, sparkling with balls of flame, in their direction. I cannot hit them and they suddenly, became invisible. I feel like an impotent warrior, failing to cudgel them to death. They popped in front of me, right now, laughing hysterically like the dreaded Hollywood villains. I pulled my might, resort to brutish force and pounced on them with the weapon. They lie down on the floor and blood seeping on the floor. As I revel in my victory a gun piercing my back and as I turned around, a man with devilish eye makes a wicked face. He got the better of me. Before dying, I hit him with the deadly weapon. We lie down on the cold floor, awaiting for death to take all of us to the final destination.

I moan, waiting for death to consume my body. Running my hand on the pierced chest, I sense the blood that I wanna taste before dying. I get a jolt: There is no blood spurting on my body. I opened my eyes to see my attackers has miraculously disappeared. Is it some magical trick conjured by invisible men to kill me? I slowly get off to see that my body is intact. The TV is on, playing some Hindi action flick. I must have dozed on the sofa, getting sunk in a nightmarish action fascination and baying for blood.

In the flick of seconds, I hear Mom shouting and crying for help, 'Thieves, Thieves'. I scampered to her room and see her, lying motionless and crumpled, on the bed. I run towards the door and checking the rooms, to see our house safe. I shake her gently, "Mom! Wake up, there is no thieves." She is in tears, oblivious, of the nightmare both of us flirted with. We flirted with danger, thriving in our world of dreams and nightmare. Dreams is a complex emotion that scared us down the spine where the hurt is non-existent.

Strucking gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Today's theme is:

WOW- ‘Connect the dots between Cycle, Hotel and Family’

Strucking Gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

Cycle, hotel and family. Three words echoing the reality in the life of Pappu, riding the black cycle, from the slum in Mumbai to the Ritz Hotel in South Mumbai. He started as a cleaner at the tender age of 10 and worked diligently, dedicated himself in the hotel and saved enough money from the baksheesh of the Sahebs to buy himself a second hand cycle. It was his prized possession which he called his 'Black Ambassador. Riding to and fro, braving the sweat and crazy traffic in Mumbai, Pappu's boring life revolves around his cycle, the hotel he calls the second home and the family-Maa, Baba and Munni, his two-year-old sister, who is the apple of his eyes. As he rode the cycle at night fall and early morning, the smile of Munni would miraculously make the tiredness on his face disappear.

It was a usual morning when Munna set on his cycle to Ritz Hotel in Mumbai. He stopped at Marine Drive for a while and sip a cup of steaming hot tea he bought from the vendor, shouting in a coarse voice, 'Chai chai chai..cutting! cutting!' He realized that he reached South Mumbai, earlier than usual by two hours. The time was reset on his modest Reliance handset. Munna was getting bored sitting on the paraphet in the scorching sun. It was 6 a.m. Somehow, he walked on the huge boulders and almost slipped. He fell down and his leg was stuck between the huge rocks. Munna pulled all his might and freed himself. As he was limping his eyes struck upon a shiny object. He looks around to ensure that nobody was watching and tried to pulling the huge boulders. A grey tin suitcase that would have been exhibited as vintage was hiding behind the stack of rocks in ruins. He opened the suitcase and his eyes popped at the bank notes, some crispy and the rest, old notes, ten, 100, thousands. Munna was shit scared at the money that he could have never imagined throughout his life. 

Munna pulled back the suitcase under the boulders and cycled back to The Ritz Hotel and worked diligently till 2 a.m. He cycled back not to home but stopped at Marine Driver, sit for a while and made sure that no eye brows were raised on him. He surveyed the Mumbai Police van where cops stopped for a cup of chai and drove faraway. Not a soul could be seen. The frightened Munna walks on the parapet and quickly slipped beneath the rock. He struggled with the pot of gold that he carried on his cycle and slowly made his way to the slum. As he cycled inside the small lanes in the sleepy slum, he knew that he has just made his life. Munna has big plans for his Munni who will go to a private school. Fate has struck and made his life. He slept peacefully that night for he knows tomorrow will be another day, Cycle, Hotel and Family.

Feeling the pristine beauty of sky, sea and sun

Radiant blue sky,

Blazing sun sparkling its brilliance in all directions,

the white sand on the beach and crystal clear sea water expressing the sheer beauty of life.

I stood motionless, admiring the vivid scenery and images unfurling itself.

Soothing atmosphere depicting the soothing beauty of life,

the heart singing a beautiful lullaby as I feel the relaxed and calm, faraway from the monotony of city life.

Seeking solitude in the magnificence and pristine beauty of life.

A day where I seek together in my own company and soul searching for the real me.

I shall find myself in this solo journey, surrounded by mountains, lush greenery, sand, sea and shining sun.

A gateway to fulfill unlimited happiness.

With Love

Vishal

Sunday Bouquet of Short Stories

Language of the heart and soul

He stood on the lawn of the plush garden, his tiny hands pointing to the direction of the football and eyes focused on his friend. The tiny toddler muttered to his friend in his baby language, 'I want the ball.' He felt helpless, moaning and burped to his friend, hitting the ground with his naked feet. His mom lovingly pinched his cheek, "What do you want, honey? You just had your cereal." She couldn't comprehend what her innocent son wanted. In the flash of the moment, he smiled when the ball flung at him. Only his friend could comprehend what he wanted. The grey-colored dog wags his tail, dashing towards the swimming tail to clench the ball with his tooth to throw at his young friend. Both were alien to each other's language yet the intensity in their eyes conveyed pure love and understanding.

*****************************************

The Journey of Love

Every single day, they traveled together in the long, tiring train  journey from Borivali to Churchgate. Their hearts longed for each other and their eyes speaking the language of love, making love to each other every single second. Only if the heart and the mind could speak and declare their flame. She was a divorcee, accompanying his son for his guitar class and he, an orphan, who lost his parents to the terrorist attack in Mumbai. No amount of human prejudices and orthodox could prevent them from falling in love, constantly craving for attention as their hands gentling stroking each other. They were not alien to the sensation as the electrons in their bodies run wild. Little did they knew it was their last journey together in the train! She sat next to him and sported her angelic smile which he responded as his eyes and lip moved together. "How I wish I could kissed her!" he wondered. She responded in equal measure, "What are you waiting for? I am all yours and can't wait to get intimate with you. I am longing for love and craving for intimate pleasure." He sensed something amiss when he realized that her son didn't accompany her today. They heard a loud, thumping noise that shook them off their berth as shard of metals cascaded on fellow passenger and, fire blew inside the train. Terrorists planted a bomb that exploded in the train which charred all commuters to death. Police found two unidentified bodies, sticking to each other like glue. Death united them in the bond of love when their existence couldn't bring them together.

************************************************

The Last Act

'After all, I am a performer on stage and gotta deliver this last act. Love and death doesn't matter,' she courageous tells herself. After shedding bucket loads of tears inside the make up room, she knew that she has to put a facade of happiness, smiling to her audience and look her sexiest best in the designer's outfit. The compere introduced her as the biggest sensation of the year. She traipsed her steps. blew a kiss to the audience who responded with equal fervor going into a trance. She performed a somersault, her curvy and slim-toned body flying like a spiral upward and downward. The audience is in her spell. She is announced as the winner and won the biggest award a performer could only dream for. After all, she longed for this award but was not happy today. She run to her room and closed the door as hordes of admirers, publicists and fans knocked on the door. She checks her cell phone again. How she wished it was a lie. "Your father couldn't survive the surgery and died on the spot. We are ensuring that his body is flown by air at the earliest." She closed her eyes and could envisioned her father holding her tiny hands and carrying her on the shoulder as she cutely said, 'Papa, I love you.'  

Good ole' days of Love Letters

Gotta be the sins of love in the past decade that has almost drown us in the sea of liquor. The pure, unadulterated love giving us a high a la scotch whisky, neat and clean. Whatta feeling, man!!!! Once the gulp of alcohol seeps in the mud, no power on earth can bring it back in our palm. The hand written love letters was our aphrodisiac and alcohol that gave lovers like us a kick as we let the passion run wild to pour our hearts on ink.

Today, everything is written on social media, babying each other and letting the whole world know bout our mushy mushy feeling. Idhar Udhar ki Baatein, wagaira wagaira, not viagra silly. E-love, E love quotes, E-romantic cards aur kya naahin. Agree! Lovers seductively flirt on whatsapp, Gchar and Facebook. Agree! It gives a sense of thrill and excitement when dates are set, behind a screen, making us enigmatic creatures or 'vultures' on the prowl. Kidding!!!

Do you still remember the days of yore when you were struck by the magnetic beauty of the cute girl waiting for the bus? Naam aur Pata maloom nahin tha! She was a mystery to your existence. Or, the super hunk for gals. You survey her moves and confirming that your nameless lover will wait for the bus at this time. Her face haunting your dreams for days, skipping the pulsating heart beats that you feel when seeing her and lacking courage to speak to her. Dhak Dhak karne lage!!!!! The only savior is the love letter. You've decided enough is enough when you weave poetic words, black-and-blue on colorful and love scent pads. You wanna write in absolutely flawless hand writing despite you write like shit in your note book. Racking your brain on what to write on a rough paper, a spine running down your spine in case Mom and Dad just barged in the room, you throw away the paper.

Nah! It's not happening, yaar. You tell yourself. After sitting and moving in frustration, the words flow like magic, borrowing love quotes at the nearest library that you write at the back of your notebook. See, Mr Google was alien to our teenage days and only the nearest library would do the trick. As lovers, we worked hard at it and asking the uncle to find us some love quotes in books. Finally, when it's done, we rush home and write in a lyrical way as if you are talking to the moon in a bid to impress your lady love.The pool word and tasty calligraphy, almost doodling and bearing your heart out, sketching a cute si heart. A day would be spent writing love letter and not signing your name, for fear that her Dad or elder brother would catch you up. 

Remember the days of Archies! The time you would save your hard-earned pocket money to buy her a romantic red-colored card, declaring your flame on Valentine Day. How exciting it was to fall in love, head over heels with her and not with Google Uncles and Aunties, like it is, nowadays! Love letters whipped with salt of passion, masala of pure love and sprinkle of the heart to steer a storm of intensity.

Give me the hand written love letters any day to make love a magical feeling and nothing makes matters of the heart beautiful like in the good ole' days.

Love

Vishal

The Curious Case of Public Relations

You know what Public Relations people and we, journalists have common? Ahem! Ahem! Grrrr, both of us need each other and we hate in equal measure. A tale of sleeping with the ennemy on the same bed. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that we fuck with passion on bed and, once the act is done, we swear to never ever, kiss and tell. Never do it, Again!!

As a journalist, I had a love and hate relationship with the bunch of PR people. Yeah! I loathe their aggressive way of doing things and hoodwinking us to get their job, scripted by them, bearing our pen. It's irritating. Yet! They say the pen is mightier than the sword.

I agree that the dreaded, PRwale, got a job to do and we not playing an orgy of sort, surrounded by musical chair. But, what gets to me when they invite you to some crap event and insist that we cover the whole thing from A to Z. As a journalist, it's a matter of personal discretion to retain some information and crap some, which will be of interest to my readers. For journalists, what matters is telling a good story and not doing promotion of sort for a brand. You cannot be telling what should I write or not. I am not here to promote your brand or else, I wouldn't be in this profession.

Girl A represents PR Agency X invites me to an event. I keep the story for Friday since we have something special that will be issued on the Saturday for the readers. A keep calling me and insist that the story need to appear on the specific day.

A: When it's coming? We need it asap.

ME: Sorry, we are keeping it for our special issue on 'real estate'

A: No!!! That cannot be. We need it now. I have a boss to answer. (Sounding hysterical)

ME: I am answerable to my boss as well (banging the phone)

I check with my post and, all said and done, we decide to keep the story. Person A sends a press release and, after checking and double checking my facts, the story go on the page. A calls, "Hey! I need a favor. Can you publish the story again?

ME: (Aghast) Again!!! We already published the story.

A: But, I made a mistake on some facts for the events. You need to publish it again. Please! Please! Please!

ME: Pardon me. Mistake was yours, not mine. I shall revert.

Come 2014. I am working for an upcoming magazine for high net worth individuals, read, super rich expats. PR agency Z represents a client and, somehow, I met the latter for an interview, without going through PR Company, Z. Guess, it hurts their ego. The director calls and was sounding so offended that I didn't go through his agency for the interview.

Director of PR 'Z: You know, they are my clients. I am accountable to them and you can't give us a date when you coming out. You are in the wrong.

ME: (sounding a bit flustered): Well!! Err..I understand your concern, Sir. But, I don't agree when you say that I am in the wrong....

Director:.....Blah! Blah!! Blah!!!!

His Assistant Manager calls and try to put me under pressure so that the article goes in the sister publication. After checking with the chief editor of the sister publication, I send an email to their PR executive:

Dear K,

The story was done for our upcoming publication and not 'sister publication.'

If you think, they were done, think again about this sagging tale of hate. Miss Dumbo-cum-Bimbo K calls and try to flirt a bit on the phone. She sucks at it and it shows how lame someone gets. I shoot her down, "K! This is my office phone and let's stuck to business. No! I cannot take it on some other publication. So sorry about that. 

All said and done. I mean, I can understand that you are only doing the job. But, you get on my nerves when you attempt to thwart my pen to get things done. First of all, it makes you so lame and dumb as PR people. One need to draw the line between journalism and PR work. Agree! There should be a healthy work relationships between the two players on both side of the fence but one tries to step on one's foot, this is simply unacceptable. On the top, it's my pet peeve as a professional when someone step on my toes and once it gets to me, you better be prepared mayhem strikes.

However, I must say that I had wonderful work relationships with few PR agencies who charmed me with their professional attitude to work. You respect my space as a professional and I think we can go a long way to cooperate with each other.

Professionally Yours

Vishal

Stay away from Kiss of Love! Kiss in the name of Gandhi-giri

Kiss of Love, Kiss of Love...Stay away from the Kiss of Love....One, Two, Three, Four...Get on the dance floor. Look at the Besharam! Oh! Lord! Have they no shame! Tauba! Tauba! Polluting Hindustani Sabrata. Kissing openly, smooching and holding each other tight in public glare. What will our elders say? Of course, they should be taught a lesson, beaten black-and-blue to knock some sense in their western polluted minds.

We will slap them and beat them up coz we are the moral 'Saffron' brigade hell-bent in saving our culture.

 We are the moral policing and let them protest..we will hang them in shape. Of course, we will! Coz we hold the monopoly over morality. Call us high handedness. It's either our way or the highway. We are the RSS, Hindu Sena...pyar karo par apni sanskriti ke anusar (Love but within limits of y (our culture) and 'pashchimi sabhyata vaapas jao (Western culture go back).....

Image downloaded on Google India

wah!wah! Ramji! Kaisa duniya hai!! Sanskriti Bachao manj sashaying to the tune of Hawan Karenge, Hawan karenge..kya hai it's 2014 and they telling us not how to kiss but don't do it at all in public glare. See kissing, smooching and making love should be deleted from our dictionary of life coz it's immoral to do it. Sex should be banned! Our guardians of morality will soon upload their own You Tube video, a re-mix of Kiss of Love! Stay away from the Kiss of Love! Bechare Yash Raj Films...Hindu ekta will steal their own franchise and sing a new refrain coz aaj kal ke youngsters polluting Hindu culture.

Images displayed are meant to shock your moral sensibility. 

Sexist comments! That's okay! Terming women as sluts and dented, it's very okay! Kissing and making up in public is not okay-ish at all coz moral brigade tell us. See! They've taken the paternity of universal morality a notch higher to teach us. They storm bars and pubs on V-Day to assault lovelorn couple, go on rampage breaking everything in art gallery and destroy Archies displaying love gifts. Oh! Tauba tauba! Kya baat hai Hindu Brigade morality. They don't have the spine to make a love in their ruthless world of Sangh Parivar! What a parivar swearing by hate! Hum Saath Saath Hai!

Do they get a mental masturbation or what by assaulting couples kissing! Oh! Wait! What did I say masturbation! Chee chee! What ganda words, masturbation and erection! My days in this world are numbered the day Hindu Sangh finds me out! Spewing such venom against Hindu culture. 

Kiss of Love campaign in India: Downloaded on Google India

The dhamki on Facebook telling us not to love and make love. Sexual frustration lurking around with a torch to get inside bedrooms, sneaking on couples making love. Howz about their watching porn in hiding and declaring war against naked couples making out! Tere Badmashiyan aur mere double standard..ho ke rahega milan coz we are against the kiss of love.

We shall kiss and tell our tale of intimacy, libido and smooch to the whole world coz keep it in the closet is so passe. You getting angry! Lassi Pee and thand rakh, like our jovial Sardar-ji will tell you, RSS-walon. Make space, thoda hua ane de..we need space to breath and make love. Getting angry! What can we do? Feeling like breaking furniture! Go and have an orgasm and kiss! No one is preventing you to embrace the kiss of love. I know, you don't have spine! Just do it beneath the white sheet in your bedroom. Live and let live, Oh! Moral Brigade! Who needs your universal morality! After all, getting laid is not such a bad idea, dear hypocrites coz we know you don't like to tell when you visit adda to have some real action in red light area. Mein Laila Laila Chila oonga Kurta Phadwa!!

Kiss of Love, Make Love and Not War.

Let's smooch. You use violence, we shall make love in Public. It's our new Gandhi-giri coz we know how to make love, love and love.

Blowing a kiss of love to you, O' haters of kiss, love and romance

Vishal

Book REVIEW: MEGHNA is pure entertainment, blissful tale of love

MEGHNA

By

Sundari Venkatraman

Rating: Three and a half

Genre: Romance

Banner: Flaming Sun

THANK YOU NOTE

When author Sundari Venkatraman contacted me on Facebook to review her book MEGHNA, I jumped on the occasion since I drooled over her last outing, ‘Double Jeopardy and am in awe of her writing style that connects with my soul. I’ve been excited to read and review, MEGHNA, since it’s the name sake of one of my best friend and college pal.

Disclaimer by Sundari:

It's only for entertainment and has no special value like Double Jeopardy

So don't look for one :D

BLURB:

The young and dashing Rahul Sinha lives in England with his parents, Shyam and Rajni. Rahul is exulted with his efforts at work paying off and plans a holiday with his best friend Sanjay Srivastav who lives in Mumbai with his wife Reema, kids Sanya and Rehaan and most importantly, his sister, Meghna. Rahul recalls meeting Meghna just before they parted six years ago. 
Meghna who teaches modern dance for the pure love of it is thrown for a toss when Rahul comes visiting. She had thought he had forgotten them.
Thus begins the story between Rahul and Meghna, the teasing, the flirting, the anger, the tears… …will they find love? 

-Courtesy (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22840533-meghna)

VERDICT:

Author Sundari Venkatraman has the knack of story-telling that captures your attention from start-to-finish and writes in a unique style that makes you relate to the characters etched in her world of ‘romance.’ The best thing about the writer’s style that she writes in a simple language that connects with the youth. This is what makes MEGHNA works. However, I feel it somewhat falls short of expectation if I compare Meghna with Double Jeopardy. Nevertheless, MEGHNA is a smart read, weaving tale of love that will make you connect with the world of Meghna and Rahul. Thus, the author is successful in telling a good story and injecting the right dose of love, emotions, sadness and drama, like our Hindi movies pot boilers. It’s enough to say that Sundari Venkatraman has concocted pure entertainment to break the routine in your life. Grab it for the pure joy of reading this tale of love.

Narration:

What makes MEGHNA works is the chemistry among the main protagonists, Rahul and Meghna.  The characters, Sanjay, Reema, Shyam, Rajni and, of course, Prashant and Aisha add to the drama that unfurls to set your pulses racing like the Mumbai local trains. The plot does suffer at times when the narration loses steam and grip. However, the author swiftly hit the right nail by sprucing up things through the ‘wicked characters’ of Rajni and Aisha and drama with Meghna running away in the plane. This is the mark of a good writer who feels that when the balance is not tilted in favor of the book, she injects drama in a timely fashion to lift the narration to pique the readers’ interest. We want to know what will happen next and the novel recovers at the right time. I feel that the main characters, Rahul and Meghna are sketched in a detailed manner which one can easily relate to.  

Extracts: The Tango Lines

Dialogues are a forte of a good novel and this is where Sundari Venkatraman scores a high note.

“Meghna was just the perfect name for her. Her grey eyes reminded him of dark, rain-bearing clouds. The lightning temper in her eyes and the thunder in her expression added to his conviction. Just now the grey eyes were smiling guilelessly up at him…Rahul found her lips again and gave her a deep, soul-searing kiss. His tongue danced a tango with hers and both were gasping for breath as they came up for air…..Meghna thought that she had been the only one mooning about her love over the past years of staying apart. The sense of having found a kindred spirit grew by the second.

What’s Not!!!

1.      The miss-and-blink characters of Prashant and Aisha. Perhaps, both should have been developed further and given an extended leash to build up suspense.

2.      Post the break up towards the climax, I find Meghna melt a bit too easily into Rahul’s arms. How about playing hard to get?!

Final words:

 Sundari Venkatraman’s MEGHNA is a light, fun-filled read that comes like a breath of fresh air. The objective of entertainment has been attained to make the heart dance to the tune of love and romance. Sundari Venkatraman is among the few authors that struck a chord with the masses and the intimate scenes cum sexual tension is dealt in an effective manner, something very few authors can narrate in a sensitive manner. She lends credence to the adage, ‘sensuality, intimacy can be told in a dignified and beautiful manner.

At one glance: Sundari Venkatraman’s MEGHNA is a smart and joyful ride.

The book can be purchased on http://www.amazon.in/dp/B00KUPUURS/ and the author can be reached out to on http://sundarivenkat.wix.com/flamingsun/ https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSundariVenkatraman

Fireworks of dreams and love

Festive season ushering to fresh dash of leaves and renewing new hopes for happiness, joy and love;

Earthen lamps lighting our lives, re-kindling optimism,

Christmas carols and gifts strengthening bond in the heart capable of love and melting our senses;

Bursting Crackers of unlimited happiness,

It adds zing to our life;

A tale of making dreams come true, where we leave behind the disappointments and deception,

as we get set to embrace the world and never shy away from falling in love;

We deserve happiness and shall never say no to surprises reserved by life to our existence;

A promise that we shall live life to the fullest as our eyes sparkle at the magical moments thrust upon us;

Scripting churning new horizons in the ocean;

A time to hold each other’s hands and making new bonds;

Let’s marvel at the display of fire-works springing in the sky.

Hindi movies, 'One-Liners': Mere Paas Maa Hi

One-liners in Hindi movies has always struck a chord with the Indian masses that go gaga over them. As we look back at the past, the dialogue 'bazzi' has always remained fresh in our imagination, churning memories of classics made that make us revel in hearty laughs. The recent Shah Rukh Khan-Abhishek Bachchan-Deepika Padukone's blockbuster Happy New Year is filled with comic one-liners that delight the heart and which will make us indulge in a laughing riot...Nandu Bhide Dimaag mein Khide...Kismet Badi Kutti Cheez hai, Saali Kabhi Bhi Palat Jaati Hai..Haaro to Haaro Ijjat Mat Uttara. The best things about filmi dialogues is that they need to connect with the masses to make the film a blockbuster hit.

I am a huge Amitabh Bachchan fan whose one-liners connected with the masses that made him the superstar he is today. The way he mouthes his dialogues makes the lines click like a pot of gold. When we watch Big B's successful movies, his one-liners remain fresh in our minds..Mere Paas Maa Hai, Aaj Khush Toh Bahot Hue Tum, Rishtey Mein Hum Tumhare Baap Lagte Hai, Naam Hai Shahenshah, Tumhara Naam Kya Hai Basanti, Vijay Dinanath Chauhan..Baap Ka Naam...Yeh saala telephone Ki Ghanti Bohot Bajta Hai, Mujhe Jo Sahi Lagta Main Wohi Karta Hai, Don ko Pakdna Mushkil Hi Nahin Namunkin Hai, Yeh James Bond Ka Pota Hai. Epic dialogues that took the nation by storm. One dialogue which I feel was so under-rated is, 'Come on, Charlie' from Kyon Ho Gaya Na! Sadly, it didn't make to the list.

Who can forget Shah Rukh Khan's Rahul, Naam to Suna Hoga,Picture Abhi Baaki Hai Mere Dost? I can imagine countless lover boys wooing their lady loves with..Naam Toh Suna Hoga, Don't Underestimate The Power of A Common Man, Hum ek baar jite hain ek baar pyar karte hai, Kaun Kambakht bardasht karne ko pita hai. Baazigar was one movie where SRK redefined the anti-hero that would make the nation fall in love with him. It was okay to be villain-ish. Here's another one, 'Aur Haar Ke Jeetne Wale Ko Baazingar Kehte Hain. DDLJ remains for me one of the most beautiful love stories ever made which marries tradition and modernity. SRK made girls fall in love and boys envy Raj when he says, 'It's alright Senorita, Bade Bade Deshon Mein, Aisi Choti Choti Baatein Hoti Rahti Hain.' Kabir Khan in Chak De India is one character that motivates us when the going gets tough and it's probably a film where SRK plays a character and not himself.

My favorite remains, 'Sattar Minute, Sattar minute hai tumhare paas..Shayad yeh tumhari zindagi ke sab se khaas sattar minute..aaj tum aacha khelo ya bura kehle, yeh sattar minute tumhe zindagi bhaar yaad rahegi...'
How can our villains be left behind? Our own Gabbar Singh whom we love to hate as he instills fear in his eyes, mouthing, 'Kitne aadmi the? So ja Munna nahin to Gabbar aayega...Can cinema's one-liners be complete without our villains? Our own Amrish Puri won hearts with 'Mogambo Khush hua and our old-timer Ajit signing with, 'Saara Seher Mujhe Loin ke Naam se Jaante Hai.' There is no Hindi movies of 70s and 80s without our epic villains delivering one-liners. Shakti Naam Hai Mera Shakti Kapoor...Lolita! The same Kapoor re-defined comedy in the 90s in the mad comic caper, Andaz Apna Apna playing the hilarious crime master, Goga, 'Khandaani chor hoon, aaya hai kuch choora ke lejayega.



Priyadarshan's Hungama was another one replete with hilarious one-liners, 'Babu Bisleri Naam Hai Mera? Kya Kare, Nahale'. He repeated this feat with the crazy Hera Pheri with crazy stuffs that had audience in splits, with our most loved Paresh Rawal aka Babu Rao, 'Uthale le Baba Uthale, arre Mere Ko Nahin Dono ko. Take this one: Dono bhai behen dekhte hai, usne bhi chasma pehna isne bhi chasma pehna. Akshay Kumar adds another feather to the cap, 'Iss Hisaab se aap unke Baap lagte hai.'

The first superstar in the film industry, Rajesh Khanna touched our sensitive chord in Anand, 'Aye Babu Moshai, zindagi badi hone chahiye lambi Nahin' and the most favorite & loved, 'Pushpa, I hate tears.' Raaj Kumar is another actor whose epic lines still rang fresh in our minds, 'Jaani yeh Bachchon ke khelne ki cheez nahin..jo log sheeshe ke ghar mein rehte apne dushman ke ghar mein phattar nahin phekte.'

Mr perfection, Amir Khan, cannot be left behind in Ishq when he innocently says with a twinge of naughtiness, 'Zindagi mein teen cheezon ke peechey nahin bhagna chahiye, bus, train or chokhri'. Apna Dhai kilo ka haath Sunny Deol in Damini, 'Tadik pe Tadik Tadik pe Tadik and 'Yeh Dhai Kilo ka haath kissi pe padta hai, aadmi utha nahin uddh jaata hai.'

Nana Patekar is another actor whose one-liners is something to die for, 'Sala ek maakhi insaan ko hijra bana deta hai.' Our Pandey-ji Salman Khan 'Ek Baar Jo Meine Commitment Ki Hai to Mein Aapne Aap ko Bhool Jata Hoon', 'Mujhpe ek Ehsaan Karna ke Mujhe pe Koi Bhi Ehsaan Mat karna and, of course the 'Bindaas' Dabbang, 'Itna Ched karenge toh confuse ho jaoge ki saas kaha se ley aur pade kaha se.' Our Munna Sanjay Dutt is another actor whose dialogues the audience love to repeat, 'Bole toh..Tension lene ka nahin sirf dene ka..Mammu yeh tere sona ka nahin' and 'Isse bolte hai Ghoda, do peti ka hai....isse bolte hai magazine aur issko bolte hai trigger iss pe umli raakhi aur tan diya jispe tanna hai, trigger dabaya aur khel khallas.'

Uff! What an exhaustive list! Hindi movie and dialogues are like two twin brothers separated at the railway station or at birth but who, ultimately, re-unite during the climax. One cannot exist without the other to make our Hindi movies an epic tale that we will remember after ages and that make us revere our superstars who almost attains 'God-like' cult-status. Truly ek chutki sindoor ki keemat tum kya jaano..I can walk English, I can laugh English, I can run English.' How ending this post with this tragic line that has almost been comical now, 'Mere Karan Arjun Aayenge.'

Fim Review: Happy New Year, Paisa Vasool Masala Cracker

Film Review: Happy New Year

Cast: Deepika Padukone, Shah Rukh Khan, Abhishek Bachchan, Boman Irani, Vivaan Shah, Jackie Shroff and Anupam Kher, Malika Arora Khan, Vishal Dadlani & Anurag Kashyap in guest appearances.

Music: Vishal-Shekhar

Director: Farah Khan

Producer: Gauri Khan/Red Chillies Entertainment

Wanna go on a bumpy and roller-coaster ride? If, yes! Read this review at your own risk..oops! my bad! Risque! It's for the haters of 'meaningful' brainless flicks and kick ass comedy that tickles the heart to happiness. A word of caution to intellectual critics, swearing by meaningful cinema, it's a sugar-coated appreciation of Happy New Year and don't blame me for giving you a heart attack 'kyon ki saala Kismet bada kutti cheez!'....'Haaro to Haaro, Ijaat Mat Uttara'...'Nandu manjhe Dimaag mein Khide'...

Happy New Year belongs to the masses. Stunning visuals of Dubai captured to perfection, mass appeal, Jhakaas dance moves, super entertaining songs and lovable performances. It's no secret that Farah Khan belongs to the Manmohan Desai's school of cinema whose one-liner should remain buried in our head, 'If you want to enjoy my films, leave your brains at home.' I know, the intellectuals must be fuming coz HNY has done to them what 'Mere Brains Ko Aanda Kisne Maara.' Happy New is a typical 'Masale dhar' movie, a bit stretched perhaps as it hits almost three hours, that will woo and make you laugh your lungs out. What works for Farah's is the dialogue baazi, after all what's a Hindi movie without mazedar dialogues?

Happy New is the story of six losers in Dubai, Charlie (SRK), Mohini (Deepika), Nandu (Abhishek), Tammy (Boman), Jag (Sonu) and Vivaan (Rohan). A team of six underdogs who are hell bent in seeking a revenge by making the biggest diamond heist. In turn, they captivate the hearts of million across the globe and not just Rs 100 crores worth star-studded diamonds.

Shah Rukh Khan as Charlie, the Boston University topper, is endearing and proves why he is one of the biggest superstar in the country. Perhaps, HNY is the film where he packed an action storm that would make the rest of his movies fade in comparison in terms of Maar Dhaar. He exudes charisma whether in funny situations, action, romance and emotions. The rehearsing of his old filmy bazzi dialogues that won him hearts and wooed his audience remains the movie's forte. Captivating.

The surprise package of HNY is Abhishek Bachchan. In case you haven't watched this roller-coaster ride, grab your tickets and you'll know why. Abhishek as Nandu Bhide excels in comedy and HNY will certainly be one of his most loved character after a spate of bad movies. He is hilarious when he does a repeat of Amitabh Bachchan, 'I can talk in English and Walk in English.' Junior Bachchan scores big time in this one with his hatke, tapori style, 'Nandu Bhide Dimaag Mein Khide' which the fans will love to no end. In one word: Brilliant. People will identify with the character Nandu that re-defines Abhishek as an actor.

Deepika Padukone as Mohini is live poetry in motion. Her entry is fantastic in the 'Lovely' song and the kind of energy she displays, hitting the octane level like a volcano is breath-taking. She has improved a lot as an actor and in every movie, she raises the bar a notch higher which leaves her contemporaries far behind. Certainly, Deepika proves in HNY that she is the most accomplished and versatile actor who gives her fans something new in every film. Whether it's the romantic scenes with King Khan and comedy or emotional scenes, she shines throughout. She adds credence to her character whether getting ensnared by English the Phunny language or doing a spoof of Kabir Khan in Chak De India. Deepika as Mohini is endearing.

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It's an education watching Boman Irani as Tammy and one wonders how he pulls his characters so effortlessly. An endearing performance by one of the most talented actors in the Hindi film industry. Sonu Sood as Jag performs competently while Naseer's son Vivaan Shah plays his part well as the loser Geek. A potential to watch out for. Jackie Shroff is competent and suave as the villain.

Farah Khan as a director is fully attuned to the taste of the masses and is a maven on making films injecting the right dose of , 'Masala.' However, two back-to-back songs towards the interval seems repetitive and tad boring. Plus, the films drags a bit with its nearing three hours which could have been chopped to make the screenplay more crisp.

On the whole, credit goes to Farah Khan for packing the right punch of action, comedy and emotions to make Happy New Year, the real winner in terms of entertainment.  The right dose of striking a hilarious route coupled with a subdued text of patriotism in the climax makes Happy New Year a flick that carries repeat value coupled with gripping narrative and blockbuster with the right ingredients. Plus, the friendly appearances of Anupam Kher, Vishal Dadlani, Dina Morea and Anurag Kashyap is the extra Mithais.  Truly Team India! Happy New Year has come to make the perfect Diwali gift like the jalebis, mouth-watering Gulab Jamuns and Rasgoolas. Plus, the music by Vishal-Shekhar is captivating and catchy. Another musical high.

What I like with Farah Khan is how she always gives credit to the whole crew in the end. A special gift by Shah Rukh Khan how he presented his cute son, AbRam and of course, Farah's triplets. It's lovely to see Gauri Khan shaking a leg. Reasons for you to watch HNY.

PS: Breaking with the tradition of giving stars to HNY and just go, munch the pop corn and enjoy the ride. To nay-sayers, I am your average blogger and no, SRK, Farah, Abhishek and Deepika have not paid me for the review. So shut up and stop cribbling.