In it, Forsyth eviscerates the BBC completely. Its “Africa policy” was so despicable that I have lost respect for BBC. I had such respect for this agency. I remember how we used to see BBC first to get the “right” news, rather than watch Doordarshan with its biased coverage. But gradually, the bias in BBC too was becoming quite visible. Reading the book was a revelation. It makes you lose all trust in the media, which is a real pity. Why has the media become so untrustworthy?
The calling of a true news and current affairs organization is to hold the Establishment of any country to account but never to join it.
I guess this is what we expect from the media, but there are not many takers for this definition unfortunately, are there? :(
Yesterday, we were all dressed up to go for a pooja. On our way down, a little girl and her father stepped into the elevator. The girl was wearing a really cute little pink skirt that flared so nicely that I couldn’t help complimenting her on it. She was thrilled, of course, and her father got her to pirouette for us too.
Dear D and me gushed. And that would have been the end of it.
But her father was thoughtful enough to point out something.
Look at Dear D, he said. She’s also looking so pretty all dressed up, isn’t she? For the first time, the little girl looked up, away from her little pink skirt. She gazed at D, smiled shyly and agreed with her dad.
What a a thoughtful and useful life-lesson! Not to get so caught up in yourself that you fail to notice the beauty around you. To take a moment to admire and compliment other events that are worthy of notice. To keep the ‘me’ aside for some time and look at the world with fresh eyes.
Life’s lessons come at the most unexpected of times. Being open to them is enriching.
It was one of those things that looked like we’d keep talking about it, but never get around to doing. Only this time, we managed to pull it off.
A bunch of us engineering classmates got together and went to Kochi, where another classmate lives, and has been inviting us over forever. Oh what a fun time we had! Stuffed ourselves with food, including the sumptuous Onam spread she had prepared, had a lovely day out, and laughed till we cried! We were back to our silly selves, giggling away, not bothered about anything, just having a jolly good time.
Kochi is known for a lot of things like the port, naval base, synagogue, church, spices, etc. But what took all of us by surprise was this.
A beautiful temple, only one of its kind, the Thrikkakara Vamana Moorthy temple is dedicated to Vamana! None of us had heard about it, so it was quite a revelation. Apparently, Onam has its origins in this very temple. Very interesting history indeed. It was so peaceful when we visited it, though the aftermath of the Onam celebrations was quite visible.
So many varieties, right from the railway station hot chai in small cups, to the golden liquid that swirls into your cup in a plane. So many tastes, from the strongly brewed and sugary chai to the delicate flavours of green tea.
Some of my chai memories include a really tall glass of very strong and rich tea that I drank at a Punjabi household. I still remember trying hard to finish it and hold it in without throwing up.
I have green tea every morning which is just plain, no milk or sugar added. In the evenings, I have the usual Indian chai, with the tea leaves boiled along with the water, and a moderate quantity of milk added to it. I like my tea without sugar (I gave up adding sugar a few years ago), but I like to eat a little sweet before my tea. I dislike the taste of sweetness that lingers on after sweet tea; this way, I get a taste of sweet, but it gets washed away by the taste of the tea. Marie biscuits dipped in hot tea are a favourite.
For some reason, I just love the tea served on airplanes. I like drinking it plain, without adding the chalky milk powder or sugar. Some of the best teas I have had include my friend’s masala chai, made with homemade masala. Nothing better than to drink one of her chais while gup-shupping with friends!
The other one is the chamomile tea I had in Madrid. It was just too good, so comforting and everything about it – the flavour, the aroma, the temperature – just right. It was heavenly!
I bought a little teapot in the fond hope that I would brew my own tea, but it didn’t work out so well. I do know some folks who brew their tea in teapots, but I haven’t made a decent cup of tea this way. I love that teapot though – it’s red and cheery and cosy.
I remember our tea in Darjeeling, when we sat on the terrace (or was it a balcony) overflowing with flowers, looked out into the drifting mist, and sipped hot tea. That was straight out of a book!
The weather today is so perfect for curling up in bed with a book and a hot cup of tea. Ah, the small pleasures that life offers.
There are people who think singing and dancing to show your love for your country is stupid and shallow.
There are people who think that giving flowers to someone is an empty gesture.
There are people who think that spending some time selecting a good gift for someone is a waste of time.
There are people who think everyday is special and so celebrations are meaningless.
There are people who think saying “I love you” to the people they deeply care about is just lip service.
I was one of them.
I dismissed all gestures as empty and ostentatious.
I hated celebrating my birthday.
Now, however, I’m older and wiser.
What’s wrong in singing and dancing if that gives you joy and a sense of overwhelming love towards your country?
What’s wrong in saying it with flowers?
What’s wrong with a well-chosen and thoughtful gift?
What’s wrong with joyous and happy celebrations?
What’s wrong with expressing and reaffirming oneself whole-heartedly?
I say, go ahead and celebrate! Laugh and sing and dance and be merry to your heart’s content (please do not use loudspeakers though :D). Life is boring when you treat everyday just like the next. Let your voice soar, your feet move, and release your spirit. That is what freedom is all about. And don’t let people who scoff at these efforts pull you down. Let them go ahead and be the same everyday. After all, that is also what freedom is all about.
Masaan was a movie that impressed me with its writing/editing. This is the second movie, the other being Kaaka Muttai, in which I found the scenes chosen and crafted carefully, with no extraneous scenes at all. Everything was relevant to the storyline. The movie was so authentic, yet so beautifully shot. The boy-girl love story was really so cute, yet so completely realistic, and the casting could not have been more perfect! On a personal note, I too have used Benares as the backdrop for my prize-winning story City of Gods (which I’m very fond of), with the theme of modernity straining for release from the centuries of history and religious culture. So I felt very happy to see a somewhat similar theme. Benares is really a different experience altogether.
Baahubali was the other movie I caught. What a movie! I loved it. True, the story is the usual larger than life legendary figure, some of the songs could have easily been dispensed with, and Tamanna was a very weak link, both story-wise and acting-wise. However, the sheer lavish scale of the movie, the attention to detail, the way every frame is so lovingly mounted, and of course, the special effects, make the movie really worth watching. Especially the war scenes. They are beautifully done, and plunges the viewer right into the middle of the action. I’ve never seen any movie that takes the viewer along the complete war path, right from the strategy, to the retreat, and then to the glorious victory. The scenes are extremely effective without being explicit, and that’s the beauty of the whole second half of this movie. The cliff-hanger ending is a fantastic way to wrap up the first part. I actually felt proud that an Indian moviemaker had not only been so ambitious and aimed so high, but had delivered on it.
So, down to earth, or larger than life? Which did I prefer?
Honestly, you need both to make life interesting, don’t you? :)