Radio Aamchi 24.7 FM!

Aapka favourite gaana!! Chado chadao! Giro Girao!

(When you step out of home)
Haan Hai Koi to wajah
To jeena ka maza yun aane laga
Yeh hawaon mein hai kya
Thoda sa jo nasha yun chhane laga

(When I step onto, sorry, run, jump and land on the platform and get into the train)

Pucho na pucho mujhe kya
Hua hai teri raahon mein aakar
Pucho na pucho mujhe kya
Milega teri bahon mein aakar
Yeh local Haaye Khadey Khadaayein
Jannat dikhaye haan
O raama

Chhodi maine sare hi bandhan zamane se yaara
Choodungi na mein 1st class
Aadha Mumbai ghusa hain isme abhi kya karoon
Bacha tho body massage hi

Dekho na dekho mujhe kya hua hai
Teri bheed mein kho kar
Pucho na pucho mujhe kya
Mila hain teri bahon mein jeekar

(On the way back)

Mere jaise lakho mile honge
Tujhko piya
Mujhe to mila tuu hi
Tu hi mere hooton ki khilti hui se hasi
Gila bhi kiya tu hi
Yeh moti Haaye Khadey Khadaayein
Dhakke khilayein haan
O raama
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Hope my sense of humor doesnt get worser than this.

Random

The performance was far from awesome. Art. Let me share my definition first. Art is meant to be the skill of succeeding in expression or action with an effortless inherent ease. Anything that makes me feel that I have been trying to acquire it only tells me that it is an acquired ‘skill’ and not an art. This is what I had felt about the performance. The entire sequence was more of anguish while it could have been a sinusoid of happiness blended with anxiety and anguish emerging out of pain. There is no denying that the expression of anguish throughout the recital was outstanding. The sequence could have been more arranged and made use of more mudras rather than landing the audience in the trouble of figuring out which block is being performed. Yes. It was an ‘experiment’. All this aside, the crowd had hardly 2 p.c. of youngsters. :)

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Few commodities for which I would like to get into contracts for the next two months here:
1. Tons of sunscreen.
2. Liters of toner.
3. Thousands of coconuts.
4. Heaps of cotton scarves and toe sox.
5. Bottles of deodorants.
Any new device that enables me to escape the free massages on the local is always welcome. Please post your ideas in the comments area of this blog. Who knows? You might be the next big name in social entrepreneurship!

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To be able to give a vent to any emotion, at the right time and at the right place is just as important as it is to control it. Sometimes I recollect the fury of heroines in the movies scattering things off a table and breaking mirrors and throwing stuff. It’s kind of funny that I feel like having a desk full of papers so that I can scatter them all over and create a mess and then when things cool down, I promise, I will clean up the mess. Do let me know. Right now, my room doesn’t have a table that offers me this luxury.

One by one..

Tats our backyard. Cricket is indeed a religion in India. These guys devotedly gather every sunday morning to play cricket here. More than the game, we are amused and entertained by their conviction levels exhibited every now and then for a dropped catch or a lost ball or faulty umpiring! Yeh hain Mumbai meri jaan! :)



Bandra-Worli sealink bridge.It is a civil engg marvel. Apparently, no bikes and no stopping anywhere on this bridge.We happened to take a taxi with an understanding and enthusiastic driver (=P) who slowed down a little while on the bridge. This is the best I could capture.

One by one..

Haji Ali..





View from Bombay Stock Exchange.

Tats the shipyard.






MG Road..



Tats the high court overlooking the Oval Maidan. Back in the deep you can see Brabourne Stadium and Marine drive.



One more with the city's skyline..



By evening, when the drive is lit..it luks pretty much like our necklace road and is indeed called the Queen's Necklace.

Well

Tat was an electrifying experience at the DY Patil Stadium. I agree.But of what use is it when its just another no-victory for Sachin. Yes. I did see both the Gods at a time. But of what use if I walk out telling myself, 'Sachin is not God.'? Thats exactly what I hoped to have disproved! Oh how I wish he picked the trophy!! To top it all, he gets the honor yet embarrassment of Orange cap and Golden player. He has enough of them. God!Are you listening? I beg to differ when people say that he lacks the art of finishing or the art of captaincy. Its only he who can take the pressure of the entire team. There were no beams. No pillars. None to distribute the load.None to stand by him. Catch droppers, incorrect batting line up..to sum it all...a 'sold out' match. I now know how much it hurts any fan to even think of it. Hopes. Betrayed. They say,'Its sport.All this happens.' Oh yeah!

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I might find it difficult to go back and live in Chennai.Now thats quite a revelation, I should say. :)
This city is great.It makes one dream. Again and again. But it does leave me with one question at the end of the day..when will earth evolve into a place where money stops topping the charts?? Any of them.Yeah..I am too naive for this place.

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Yes! It is!

Forgive the lapse.No access to picasa. No access to net at home.
Doing good.

Irony

of independence and loneliness. Is something I havent been able to figure out. They come in a package. Dont they? Why cant someone be independent and not be left alone simultaneously? Yes. I know. Its about the line. The line you draw. The line of emphasis. The line you purposely put down, there. But isnt the beauty about trying to push the line, tweak a little or even trespass and then decide?
Why are independent people taken by the face value? Why is it that they are left in their corners? How often have you or I tried to bring one of them out of that zone?

Imagination. Assumption. Truth. Order please!?