Saturday, November 22, 2008

of dhabas and gourmet kitchen...

I think there isn't really anything called a cool job. There are just people who love what they do.
You can really tell when you see someone who likes what he does. It's pure and infectious.

There are loads of so called food and travel shows on air. Somehow amidst all those 'awwhh's 'mmhh's and 'ooohh's eachone utters... there are two that stand out.
Their love for food - I can almost smell and taste from my living room.
Anthony Bourdain - No Reservations
Rocky and Mayur - Highway on my Plate

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Kitni baatein yaad aati hai...

Truly trivial and nearly spectacular – Chapter 5
Having a secluded corner with a sunset view for a cubicle, at work.
Khuda Ke Liye
The Simpsons
Ashta Chamma
Aavakaya Biryani
Quatum Of Solace

It’s that time again...
You see nervous whispers at lunch in the canteen.
You dread the three words “You’ve Got Mail”, each morning opening your official mailbox.
Everyone walks around with a “Is it my turn today?” look.
You no longer get hourly calls from people offering you loans with no interest and credit cards with no limit.
Your market value at dips considerably.

Thats right… it is the IT lay-off season.

A not-so-oft remembered, but beautiful nonetheless, song from Lakshya.

Kitni baatein yaad aati hai
Tasveerein si ban jaati hain
Main kaise inhein bhooloon
Dil ko kya samjhaoon

Kitni baatein kehne ki hai
Honton par jo sehmi si hai
Ek roz inhein sun lo
Kyun aise gum-sum ho

Kyun poori ho na paayi daastaan
Kaise aayi hai aisi dooriyaan

Kitni baatein yaad aati hai
Tasveerein si ban jaati hain
Main kaise inhein bhooloon

Lyrics - Javed Akhtar
Music - SEL

Saturday, November 08, 2008

he hated the sunshine today...

Her eyes fell on a little black bag lying in the corner, casually forgotten.
All she could recollect was a cloudy picture of its contents, nothing more than that.
She stretched a hand to wrap her fingers around it.
Only to feel her hand break through a invisible film of dust that seemed to curtain the past and the present.
She grabbed whatever she could of the bag and pulled it to her chest.
As she hastened to open it, the contents spilled out.
Lying before her, strewn all over the place was her past.
Things that were meant to freeze the moment they were part of. For an eternity.
Things that were trusted to deliver back that moment, unadulterated, no matter when beckoned.
Things that spoke aloud of the naive self-importance of those moments.
Pale shadows of yesterday they were, now. What's the point? she caught herself wondering.
But she could not bring herself to let go. Not even today.
She dusted the bag and placed it back in that dark corner carefully. Smiling silently all along.

He looked out of the window. It was a sunny day.
An irritated sigh and muted curses later, he went back to the keyboard.
You wouldn't realise that anything was amiss,
If you'd miss the forced key strokes.
Eyebrows knitted together, he mouthed a silent - I hate the weather.
Each sunny day came with a 'this won't last long' written all over it.
And every time he woke up to a clouded sky, the sunny days past seemed like an illusion.
He hated it. Today.


Najaane kab se umeedein kuch baki hain
Mujhe phir bhi teri yaad kiun aati hai

Juda Hoke Bhi Tu Mujhmein Kahi Baaki Hai
Palkon Mein Banke Aansu Tu Chali Aati Hai

Sath Mere Hain Tu Har Pal Shab Ke Andhere Mein
Paas Mere Hain Tu Ujale Savere Mein
Ab Toh Aadat Si Hai Mujhko Aaise Jeene Mein

Lyrics - Goher Mumtaz

Singer - Atif Aslam

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Symbolism - Isn't it quite a thing?

Obama won. And you can have a look at the papers... here.
And I find myself pondering over the very thing which the results have mandated as a non-issue. Yes, race.
The results show, ‘it’s the economy, stupid’. That and Iraq + Bush.
True. But in spite of all that, to have the race issue relegated to the shadows I think is quite remarkable.

To go from white-only seats in public places to electing an African-American as the President – in living memory. Isn’t it quite a thing?

I have read a news report about an African-American, who remembers what it’s like to have dogs set after you and to be beaten up for daring to vote. Today he listens to a black man deliver a presidential election victory speech. Isn’t it quite a thing?

Symbolism has great potency. And not just to prep-up the rhetoric.

Second link - courtesy - Justin Webb's blog at