The one with Gulf War, Hostel & Betty

Everyone has been raving about the movie Airlift. And for good reason. Despite my best intentions I haven't been able to get myself into a cinema hall to watch the movie, even though this whole week has been about travelling cinema, workwise. Anyway, of late the standard of cinema is so bad that you could make a movie about Pani Puri and that would have a better story line. Of course you put SRK - Kajol in it and that would be a 400 crore grossing flop.

What exactly is a flop? 

People and Mannequins

It's been a long time, this time around. Apart from my vast life changing experiences with a large number of random auto rickshaw drivers, and of late, marathi-spewing-change-demanding bus conductors, I don't see anything that has drastically made a dent in my parallel conscious. Until Now.

Part of my job includes meeting different people to understand why they do what they do (vague enough to avoid complications) any way, sometimes conversations get a tad too personal and you can't just walk out of there. You just nod and listen and mumble something, or your stomach does it for you. But Not me.

I have this weird "keeda" of putting my nose in other peoples problems and issues. It's like this non retractable poking mechanism, that once poked doesn't come out unharmed. So you start telling me your sob stories, and I'll make you wanna say more. I'll just listen and listen and listen, and your every being will want to say more till your all dried out. Let's just say I am blessed with those special facial features, like Oprah's eyebrows.

Did I mention butterflies? Yes, my attention span that is. So sometimes midst all these chaotic things, I zone out in to a different world. A world of what if's and why's. What if I had not left Bahrain? What if I had kept in touch with all my cool childhood friends? What if Obama was White?

In one such recent instance, I was browsing through Facebook after ages, stalking good looking people and old friends (not connected) when I saw marriage wishes, and travel schedules and photos, and private jokes. Liked by 30 people of whom 20 I know, yet I couldn't really say I knew them. I so wanted to, but it was just not possible. It was in the past.

Have you ever been one of those kids in school - when everyone's talking in a group and you're the one who enthusiastically nods your head in all directions but have no clue whats really happening? Or the kids who joins a gang of cool people to play a prank and ends being caught but having no clue in reality?

Funny how things end up. One person gets displaced as if its required and then you just sit there and wait. Much like our Advani ji. Poor fellow.

Twitter has been a buzz with all kinds of outrage. I mean what else does Twitter do anyway. I mean you either outrage or hit on people. And then in other news iOS7 came out, which was cool. Finally they do something that everyone has already done and pretend that no one knows about it.

One of India's most popular Mannequins

I also don't get this Arnab Goswami's perpetual problem with everything. He has to, and I mean absolutely has to pick on someone every day or he just can't sleep. I hope he doesn't do this in real life too. Could you imagine Arnab getting all riled up at a mannequin in women's undergarments? In Shoppers Stop?



"THE NATION NEEDS TO KNOW, WHY IS THIS MANNEQUIN WEARING UNDERGARMENTS? WHO IS BEHIND THIS SCHEME? WHAT IS THE GOVERNMENT HIDING? TONIGHT ON THE NEWSHOUR..." and then he'd call in his expert panel of 3 play schoolers,  a blind cat, a washing machine and a sock. And never let them speak.

Sigh. This post is just so random. I need to get off twitter. Am almost beginning to feel disturbed at these facebookiyas.

Laters
M

Where Am I from?

I usually get into spells of immense thinking. It's like a phase, where  my left brain and right brain have conversations that ultimately give me a backache. Blame it on Acupuncture. (That Pin poking thingy)

It was in one of these sessions that I was absolutely convinced that in a previous birth I must've been a driver of some sorts. Taxi or Auto, but one of the two for sure. That must be the reason why I keep meeting so many drivers with so many interesting stories to tell, which make me go "Ahaaa" to which the driver promptly replies "Kai zala?" in Marathi.

Anyways, the topic of today's brain freeze conversation is "Where am I from?"

There are these standard questions that people ask you and you promptly have an answer pop into your head. Visually at least.

For e.g

Q - Hey Whats up
A - Nothing, you tell.

Q - What's your favorite colour?
A - Blue / I don't know

Q - Who's hotter? Anushka or Deepika?
A - Megan Fox / Angelina Jolie (By God's grace at least now she will retire from those buhledy worlds hottest lists)

Q - I have Scotch and Vodka, what will you have?
A - Do you have beer?

Q - Saw any movies recently?
A - *Image of that movie that friend of your friend gave you on that pen drive that everyone's been sharing* No.

Q - Kya Aapke toothpaste main namak hai?
A - Haan saale, Sambhar powder bhi hai, khayega kya? (Rhetorical, am not offering)

Q - Where are you from?
A - Err. Heard of Shimoga? How about Mangalore? Karnataka? Yes am a Madarasi, Thank you.


Truth be said, I have been around. Spent an equal amount if time in the Gulf, in Udupi/Manipal, at Bangalore and now what looks like its going to be quite some time in Mumbai. While I borrowed a lot from them, none of them has left a mark that's deep enough to be called home.

For example, I loved the places in Manipal that I used to spend so much time at with my friends. In Bangalore it was all about enjoying the lovely weather and the ease of travel (Yes come to Mumbai, it's like going to space in a cycle rickshaw) Bahrain was all about school time memories. And now Mumbai, well we're just getting started.

I don't think I've ever answered the question about "Where are you from?" in one line.

The most recent being my explanation to an Expat that India is divided into "Zones" depending on what people eat. Idlis? - Madrasi. Chaats? Mumbai. Momos? Definitely from East (Don't even have a place) and Tandoori chicken. Delhi. If you eat bullets and bombs, probably way up north in "Paradise on Earth"

Just FYI, I like all the above. Am like the public buffet that everyone eats free off and then cribs - Definitely Indian.

Anyways, Next time someone asks me where am from, I guess I'll just say that. Indian.

Cheers
M

Bahrain - Memories

A long long time ago, I used to hang around on an island called Bahrain. My point in making it look so small is because it is so small, the main island being just 55km long by 18km wide, and the rest being all teeny weeny islands. Mangalore is bigger than the country, but then that's not the point.

Apart from being born here, and terrorizing the cheese samosas at school, I had a deep bond with the place. Probably because leaving was not a choice that I had, it was kind of fooled into it. Some fondest memories of my life still stay in Bahrain, though am not sure I'd recognize the place if and when I go back. Place has changed, the life has changed and more importantly the people have changed.

I guess when it comes to Bahrain, am still the 12 year old. Because in my mind, the place hasn't grown up.

Schooling was fun, while I remember some names from my first school, "The Asian School" which for some strange reason was full of "Indians", and the "Indian School" which had a lot of Arabs, I must thank FB for getting in touch with most of them.

Some things I'd never forget :

1. Water Garden - Feeding Swans popcorn which they hardly ate
2. Tubli - the place had a nice ring to it!!!
3. Riffa - and the favorite shop we'd go there always before it burned down and got rebuilt. I still remember the layout of the store. Additionally this was where our first home was.
4. Marhabba Market - The first supermarket I went to!!!
5. Video Games!!! - Street fighter cards and Mortal Combat
6. Family Get togethers in Zallaq beach
7. DEcember 16th, National Day and the Fireworks.
8. Isa Town - Home Sweet Home.
9. The cab driver with a cut tongue who'd pick us and drop us home from The Indian School
10. Struggling to throw the basket ball at the hoop, only to end up playing for the district of Udupi (\m/)
11. Signing my exam papers myself, even though I got a 10/10. And then getting whooped for it :P
12. This hilarious character called Jay Gandhi. Haven't Found him yet
13. "A Fox was trotting on one day, and just above its head...." English poem in the 6th Grade
14. Collecting Vimto stickers to get that confounded robot pencil box!!!
15. "Lagori" with a tennis ball
16. Soccer with crushed Beer/Cola Cans

AND

17. Kannada Sangha Bahrain!!!
- the teeny library which was like a punishment room
- the Kannada classes which ensured I could beg for marks in Kannada in School in India
- Soccer on the terrace!!!
- Carrying random kids around and spending on "Chakuli" ( most of these kids are grown up so names shall be shared, but I bet you know who we are talking about)
- Darts tournaments!!!

- Get togethers and "Karnatakothsava"

- And soooo many more

I guess I must be one of the few that never returned to Bahrain for a longer duration, with a return only for a quick vacation. And that was that.

I still miss Bahrain. And the national anthem still rings in my head......

M