……………………………voiceovers from life.

Author Archives: Kamikaze


Note : This is a rant.

Writers are dreamers. They keep talking big things. They see the world in a different way. They unnecessarily romanticise things. They do not pay attention to real life and take shelter in imagination. Writing is an escape from the reality. Writing can only be a part time hobby. Nobody can be a serious writer and manage other stuff like job, business, household life. Writing is the passion of the extreme rich or the extreme poor.

How many times have I heard these sentences? Writers are dreamers. That is correct. They do see potential in everything. In a way, writers are innovators, conceptualisers, pioneers.Β  A quality necessary for every entrepreneur and businessman. They don’t talk big. They want to enjoy each and every creation of nature, every emotion a human being can feel. They do not romanticise things – they just see simple things in life with a child-like awe. They just want to live life to the fullest. This enables them to be happy always.

It also leads to a certain nonchalance. Like the song says, “Gham aur khushi me farq na mehsus ho jaha….” This nonchalance, also called equanimity by the more spiritual, makes them efficient in their daily work. Writers react the same to any situation they face. They say ‘Wow, so this is how it feels!’ and go make a note of it. They observe themselves and their life as the unbiased observer mentioned in our physics textbooks. This doesn’t mean they escape reality. They face it with the detachment of a monk.(I have come to love this word πŸ™‚ ) Writing is then, meditation.

Writing is the dessert, the goodie one enjoys after having a dinner filled with daily routine, awesome work day and family time. It is not really an escape from life, but discovering the realities of life. I have heard people exclaim, ‘Oh writing? It requires a bohemian lifestyle no?’ It doesn’t! Look around and one does find a part writer in every person – be it writing funny sticky notes for roomies, students forgetting mugged essays and composing one runtime, techies writing interesting mails as their status, people on Facebook/Twitter, a housemaid forgetting lines of the song she is humming and then making it up.Have you ever noticed babies? They have a funny habit of making limericks about anything they see.

Writing is a way of life. An essential skill for everyone wishing to make a mark in their field. Writing is a stress-buster. Writing is a negotiator. Writing is a rescuer. You name anything and writing is it. (That is the skill of an engineering student eh? To justify anything :P) So yeah, to sum up

WRITING IS NOT AN ESCAPE!



A poet from a country which has freedom of artistic expression may not choose to publish his work (for whatever reasons, say personal); while there would be an artist struggling to get his work published in the less free regions of the world. I sat pondering on this for a while and then the idea of this post came from the word Paabandiyan, which means restrictions. Every word has a relative meaning from person to person.Β  So does Paabandiyan.

A picture of two friends from an old era came to my mind. Say from Chanakya’s period. They both studied at Nalanda. One wants to finish his studies and head to Himalayas to explore the deeper questions of life. While the other, wants to finish his studies and head home – and get married to his fiancΓ©e. The first friend finds it very amusing of his friend to walk into worldly ties willingly. His own family has been appealing to him to stay back. These ties are suffocating him.Β  He wants to be free, while his friend wants to embrace them happily. To the world, he would be forbidden to be a part of society as a monk. But to him, he is willingly giving it all up.Β  At this moment, ‘restrictions’ ceases to be true to its negative connotation and is just a hollow word. And hence, the poem says – There are many forms of restrictions, some voluntary, some enforced. To the world, the Paabandi is for the monk, who won’t be allowed to live in the society. While to the monk, the Paabandi is his family’s insistence on staying back and getting married.

Paabandiyan to kai hain, kuch chahi, kuch unchahi

paabandiyan to kai hain,
kuch chahi, kuch anchahi.

ek hain,chahte hain azaad hona,
aur ek, bandhano me bandhna

kahi ek kadam bandhe jeevan ki dor,
aur kahi door ek jogi chala himalay ki or,

paabandiyan to kai hain,
kuch chahi, kuch anchahi.

Image credit : www[dot]myopera[dot]com, www[dot]fineartamerica[dot]com



Quite an eventful week. Watched Agneepath. Apart from that, no respite from worldly tasks. I am trying to take out 15 minutes every morning for this section. This is an attempt to gauge the feasibility.

Nadaan dil sabb kuch paana chahta hai,
waqt ke panno se akele bhidna chahta hai,
kitabi keeda almaaria ulatna chahta hai,
shayar ye deewana kalam ka saath chahta hai,
kya kahen janaab, bas khwabon ka sahara hai,
rozmarra ki zindagi me uljha dil bechaara hai.

5 mins to type, 5 mins for the pic. Works, I guess. πŸ™‚ I do not know what this conveys, but rhymes well πŸ˜›

Image courtesy : http://www.artgalleryimage.net





This book review is being written through me at the evil behest of a rogue Martian.
Otherwise Martians be good people, they be. You may understand that these words have been censored out by him, these too and these too……. Focus, you earthling!

Warning : This whole review is a spoiler. Go buy the book and read it first to get the head or tail of this review written by this very incapable earthling. Regards, Martians.

Why I read the book

One fateful day, when I was doubling over in pain due to a kidney stone….I noticed Sorabh Pant’s tweet about Westland Books bestsellers. The agony on my face made way for worry as I realised that the Mayan Apocalypse may not be a rumour afterall; since @hankypanty had tweeted without a tinge of humour, sarcasm or pun! I had realised that it might be a PR kinda thing, ‘cos people do so when they write a book. Had he written a book too? *Lord save us!* I asked him about it, as I saw Martians landing….and in turn, managed the feat of getting @amisht,Β  @ashwinsanghi and him form a very adorable mutual admiration society. I love that kinda thing! *sniff* Little did I know that I was the target of this sharp marketing strategy devised by the Martians who are outsourced by Ms. Recliws, who has ghost written(no pun intended) The Wednesday Soul. They tactfully bombarded me with pictures and media bits about the book and at a sleepy moment, under the influence of a 400mg Spasmoproxyvon, took over my brain too and made me sign-up at Blogadda for the copy. *I was wearing normal zero glasses then, should’ve worn sunglasses to escape* Over the days, they made me read the book, not once but twice (once with Wren and Martin’s souls) ; bribing and coercing me at times.

* here’s the real reason *
Most of the books I am picking up these days are when I am skeptical about their overnight success or the way the author might have handled the plot. I have been following Sorabh’s tweets for quite some time. He can be very witty at times and sometimes, I do not like his tweets at all. I found myself shaking my head all through the description of the book and thought, it seems whacky,…..but still it might have a Comedy Circus kinda humour maybe. I can’t stand sick jokes in the show. I have high regard for stand-up comedy, but I like them when they are not nasty in an insulting way, each line has an underlying wit to it and most importantly, it is not cheap. This book, written by a stand-up artist, seemed to have some elements which made me skeptical about the praise it was garnering; but at the same time it was not cheap. I could say that without reading by seeing it’s price tag – Rs.250!

Why you should read the book

Okay it’s not cheap. So you can drop that reason. It doesn’t have an emotional touch. The prerequisites are an IQ above 130 and to keep the logical side of that genius brain (yes, I have one of that kind too :P) aside to appreciate the beauty of the writing. So, don’t buy the book. *tap on the head by Martian wielding an electric taser* Err….you should buy the book for it’s humour quotient. You’ll find yourself sucked into the world created by Ms. Recliws…err…Sorabh and not find it out of the blue at all! You’ll fall in love with the lunacy out-folding itself right from the author’s intro, preface to the last page! If you like Govinda movies and Steve Martin movies alike, this one is for you! You’ll meet lotsa celebrities from the geek world, your college idols (Pythagoras, Gauss…. Che Guevara), Attila the Hun(who tries to pass off as Hagar the horrible but fails when he tries to joke using hun err… pun). I read it for Guru Dutt, yes I was one of the disappointed Guru Dutt fans when… *tap on the head again… “No spoilers, earthling”. “Alright, I got a little carried away. Keep the taser away please, I have a review to write”*

The story

*conspiracy theory*

Recliws wanted it to be a philosophical title, but Sorabh titled it The Wednesday Soul, to cash in on the hit A Wednesday and the Chicken Soup series which always ends in soul. The cover has been designed by a secret symbologist, so that it has Greek letters hiding in the font of the title. It gives it a Dan Brownish feel. The word Sunglasses is written in different colors to combine sun and glasses which play a major role in the story. There is liberal use of Feng Shui eye symbols to keep it from the evil eyes of self proclaimed critics and book reviewers, but they don’t work on me πŸ˜› I even got this through the Martian standing on my head!

*conspiracy theory*


There’s not much of a story…… *looks around with frightened eyes trying to spot any approaching antennae with tasers* The story is a classic romance panning not across years, eras but incarnations after incarnations – the standard Bollywood masala. Nyra dies in a freak accident to discover that there is a world of the dead, where they term us the real ghosts! When she dies, she is denied the right of living happily ever after with the love of her life – the burly hero of the story, who is a classic mysterious lead. What angers her more is that she was a victim of an evil conspiracy by the classic Bollywood villain (who I guess had possessed Ajit, Pran and Prem Chopra during their shoots that led to many masterpieces in the Hindi Cinema). Now this villain, who goes by the name of Kutsa is actually…. *”Alright! Keep that away. Sigh….”*

Anyway, the story is awesome. It has references to history, politics, science, astronomy, and what not! You will read every chapter with delight at finding new laws of the world of death. Two stories run parallel, the live world and the dead world. Some characters move effortlessly from one to another and lead to an awesome finish of the murder mystery. *Keep it consistent Earthling, you said it’s a comedy, then changed to romance and now to murder mystery? Ms. Recliws said it’s about finding your innerself and that Coelho soul searching stuff….I haven’t dared read the book you know…..after seeing your state….*

Characters

Nyra, is a no-nonsense urbane vigilante, who roams around like a Ninja avenging the gory crimes against women. She has her flaws too. Like she drinks, and goes out on Delhi roads….alone! She thinks from the heart. She is spunky and does not even heed Gods when it comes to following her instincts. She is err…how shall I put it delicately, a little on the wrong side of normal weight(read fat), but totally in love with herself………that is what I liked.

The hero of the story, Chitr, has a mythological parallel and is very cute as the amnesiac Head of some important department in the world of dead. He is just perfect, if he just didn’t have that paunch. He really needs to lose some weight. Hence, he is a perfect match for Nyra. See the deep thinking?

Kutsa – Now this name really got to me you know! He is a very nasty villain inspiring awe from even the people he tortures. He is the epitome of vileness. One good thing came off it. I was haunted by the name, thinking I had heard it somewhere and then realised that it is very similar to my gotra…..maybe the rishi influenced the ideology of my ancestors and read a lot about my descent and Kutsa rishi, to realise with relief that this is just a work of fiction by the author. He was not like that at all! And I got to know much about my origins too πŸ™‚ Win win πŸ˜€

There are so many supporting characters like I said. You’ll recognise some of them instantly from your textbooks, iPod lists, fiction books and if you know some Nobel Prize Winners. I haven’t mentioned any from the parallel story but they are totally ROFL material. A hyper Northeast Indian doctor and a Delhi cop with no sense of grammar or tense priding himself on speaking chaste English, make the parallel leads.

Writing style

Being a stand-up artist, Sorabh writes like one. Witty, ladden with puns and contextual jokes. I read along swiftly till the first 2-3 chapters appreciating the quirky style, but was immediately held up by typos which keep appearing to the eye which is gifted with spotting “typo- score” like the “eye-score” mentioned in the book. Westland should really have had better editors and diligent proof reading before giving the book to print. This I say because the book is surely on its way to the bestseller list. Urban India has an appetite for books which tickle their grey cells and I give full credit to Sorabh for respecting his readers’ intelligence to digest such a whacky story! All this in a debut novel – which is not his forte – considering he is temporarily retired from scripting TV shows (psst…not getting any writing work or so the grapevine says…. *the Martian was on a tea-break πŸ˜‰ *)

me likey……..me dislikey πŸ™‚

Thumbs up for the innovative plot, flow of writing and respect for readers. I really felt the editing was lax….I think a book published by Westland should have been a little carefully proofread.

In a nutshell!!!!!!!!!!

Picking this one up is compulsory! Not to flaunt your IQ score, but to enjoy a thought provoking journey to the Universe of the Dead and Alive. You’ll surely come out wiser and happier from it. Also I can use some peers to discuss the amazing conspiracy theories discovered and allusion spotting done by me. In order to convince you that this is not sarcasm and I really liked the book, I give it aΒ  rating of 3/5. πŸ™‚
Go read it and come back to the review πŸ™‚ You’ll like it all the more.

Disclaimer : Typos in this post, if any, are purely unintentional. I haven’t got my payment from the Martians yet πŸ˜₯ Please feel free to point them out, though I won’t correct them….it takes me eons to write a post and will take another era to correct them. Just wear your sunglasses, the typos disappear then πŸ˜‰

This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!



I have missed some days, will cover them up as I find time. Till then, this one is an archive from my collection. This was a spontaneous response to Md Muddassir Shah’s picture of a blooming seedling on a busy road. The seedling had sprouted at such a place, where it could be easily trampled by a pedestrian or a passing vehicle. It conveyed a sense of defiance, a zest for life and a certain spunkiness to me. Hence, the below lines which say, that this is my land too! My ancestors lived here, co-existed with you and now you have usurped my land! A hint of Sadda Haq, a try at an eco-friendly poem…….

suni thi kahaniyaan
kabhi mere ajbao ajdaad baste the yaha….
kabhi ye sadak thi ek nikharta gulisataan….
apni taraqqi ke nashe me khoye e insaan
ye zameen meri bhi hai sun le aaj ye elaan!

Glossary – ajbao ajdaad – ancestors, nikharta gulistaan – blooming garden, elaan – proclamation.



A Republic Day Special this –

Waving with pride

Wo kehte hain mera watan,
ab nahi raha Iqbal ka chaman,
mere zehen me jhank ke dekho zara,
aaj bhi hai wo jazba, wo nazaara,
jab har dil me ek hi baat hoti thi,
mohabbat sirf ek tarah ki hoti thi,
jasbat wahi naye andaaz me jhalakte hain,
jab kadam Dhvajvandan ki or badhte hain.
kehta hai Tiranga dekhkar apni azaad avaam,
bas jung-e-azaadi me nahi the muhib-e-watan,
uss anjaan shaheed ki ilamat hai har wo insaan,
asar-o-rasokh na kare jisko apna rutba-e-hum-watan,
mahej insaan se salook kare jaise insaan………..
zinda hain, kuch galiyon me aise chand bashinde,
jo lautayenge is gulistaan ko uske nayaab parindey,
aur wo kehte hain mera watan,
ab nahi raha Iqbal ka chaman!

Glossary
zehen – conscious, jazba- emotion, jung-e-azaadi – freedom struggle, muhib-e-watan – patriots, mahej – only, bashinde – inhabitants (here – citizens), gulistaan – garden, parindey – birds (here, the peace pigeons signifying good citizens), nayaab – rare, asar-o-rasokh – influence

The general idea of the poem is

Some claim that India is no longer the land the great poet Iqbal described as Saare Jahaan Se Achha. I would urge them to look inside my conscious and they will see the same inspired emotion reflecting in my thoughts, which was in the minds of people fighting for India’s struggle; as I walk towards the flag hoisting ground. The emotion is love, there was only one kind of love which existed then and it was for their country. The Tricolour looks proudly at the assembled Avaam, it’s free citizens and addresses them saying,”It is not only in the freedom struggle that patriotism manifested itself. They were not the only patriots, the people who laid down their lives in the freedom struggle. The season of patriotism is not over. Each one of my citizens, who treats his fellow citizens with equality – without being influenced by his status, symbolizes the unknown freedom fighters of that era.” There areΒ  exist (even though few) citizens like this, who live in the bylanes of this country. They have vowed to bring back the rare species of such patriots. And they still say, my country is not Iqbal’s Hindustan anymore?!



This post started from a discussion with my cute junior Apeksha . She had written a sher and wanted revising. It is a beautiful thought where the girl tells her beloved that her heart is a mirror which shows his reflection in her eyes. She urges him to keep it safe as the fragments will end up hurting him only in return.

My junior expressed it beautifully in a sweet and crisp way –

Ye mera dil nahi aina hai aapka
Har nazar,apna hi aks dekhoge
Iske tutne pe khud hi ko toh bikhra paaoge.

I messed up her composition in the following two ways!

dil-e-nacheez nahi ye aaina hai,
har deedar-e-nigah aapko –
dikhlata aks aapka hai,
jara nazakat se rakhiyega,
baat adna hai fir bhi gaur farmaiyega –
toot jaana iska aapki shaksiyat ka ishtial hoga,
tab bhi magar zarre zarre me aapka mazhar hoga!

Glossary
dil-e-nacheez – this insignificant person’s heart
deedar-e-nigah – trying to look into my eyes – i guess πŸ˜›
aks – reflection
adna – small/trivial
shakshiyat – personality – here the person you are when you are with me
ishtial – combustion – hyperbole yes yes πŸ˜›
zarra – particle
mazhar – a miniature avatar, incarnation of what is left of you.

and (on request for a 4 line version)

dil hai mera aapka aaina,
aks aapke base inn naina,
toot na jaaye sambhal ke sajna,
bikhroge aap hi jeevan ke angna.

cheesy eh? πŸ™‚ Nevertheless, this marks the beginning of Project 365.



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