The significance of dancing around trees

In the 1920s the world saw the emergence of an Industry that became synonymous with American Cinema. Hollywood was born. Although a district in LA, California, the mere mention of Hollywood results in flashes which range from Julie Andrews crooning atop a mountain to Optimus Prime having a metal orgasm every time he sees the “Cube”. Suffice to say Hollywood spoilt us and left in its shadows a slew of imitators. Perhaps the one that comes closest to matching the exuberance of Hollywood and surpasses it when it comes to dishing out movies every month is the very innovatively titled Bollywood – Bombay movie industry. 

Ever since its inception, Bollywood has single handedly led the world outside to believe that we Indians break into a song and dance routine at the drop of a hat, shout at the skies in anguish and curse the lord when our dog dies. We are basically ballet dancers on Speed. The phrase “leave your brain at home” was coined, I believe, when the first ever review for a Bollywood flick was written. No wonder the world loves Indian Cinema.  A majority of the movies are loud, colorful, and totally moronic. This is a step up from Hollywood wherein the absurdity level is kept a few notches below the threshold that causes brain hemorrhage. The higher powers which govern this industry have struck a chord with the general public. A popular movie sees the crowd line up outside the ticket counters as if money was being given to watch the movie rather than the other way around. 

What people living in India are unaware of is the effect Bollywood has had on the outside world. I knew what the general notion was about Indian Cinema. But the magnitude of it dawned on me while working abroad for the last 4 years. While working in Frankfurt my Indian stature was established by remarking “oh land of bollywood….Shah Rukh Khan”. I heard the same line being used in Jakarta as well. For a self respecting Indian nothing is more offensive than being referenced using Shah Rukh Khan…a guy who has hammed his way into the hearts of millions of girls. This is the guy whose idea of emoting is opening his arms wide and looking up at the sky. This is done to express love, lust, anger or the intense urge to empty his bowels. After talking to a few individuals I realized that one particular movie seems to be very popular amongst the locals - 3 idiots. It is based on a pathetic best seller and has not one original idea in its entirety. It is thus our equivalent of “Da Vinci Code”, a book which features on everybody’s “I’ve read the following novel” list and ends there. Filled with jokes that got stale over internet forwards, moments of pure unintentional hilarity and that obnoxious dialogue “all izz well”. You know the retard quotient has hit a new high when people start quoting that line endlessly…sometimes without context. Makes me want to recycle the lunch I just had.  

It’s a sad day for the movie industry when genuinely good movies are ignored for yawn inducing fares with age old dramatic platitudes. This is because the wrong kind of movies are advertised and distributed worldwide. It doesn’t surprise me since there is a massive market for it. It is easier to get lost amidst chaos then contemplate subtle actions; it is easier to entertain than it is to entice the mind. This formula has been used endlessly to shovel well packaged crap. And as long as the general public ingests such movies, the industry will keep churning them. Cinema can be a source of inspiration, magic, art and can have the ability to imitate life itself while maintaining the basic need of being entertaining.  But something somewhere has been lost amidst the explosions, laughter and exaggerated emotions. Anyway, I have to have a second look at the nuances of crap presented so eloquently in “Delhi Belly”. Till then…all izz well.  

FIGHT CLUB

"We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives." ....Tyler Durden


We hear a great line from a movie and we cheer it. I can imagine how the audience reacted when Forrest Gump said "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get". It was made to sound profound and I'm sure a lot of people saw more to it than there really was. What if there was a movie wherein every line spoken was a commentary on our lives, only it wasn't sugar coated and packed in a fluffy package but was as hard hitting as life itself. The movie is Fight Club.

Directed by David Fincher and based on the best selling book by Chuck Palahniuk of the same name, the movie sits comfortably at the top of all cult hits. A movie which was shunned by a few critics due to its brutally graphic violence went on to become the most talked about movie of the year and one of the most influential movies of the decade. The fact that it didn't recover its production cost during its theatrical run goes to show how wrongly it was marketed. But the movie was destined to become what it is now. While most movies confine themselves strictly within the financial gains while compromising on every aspect of film making, this movie did the exact opposite. Attach a superlative adjective to every aspect of film making and you'll get a clue as to what Fight Club is. And because I've worshipped the movie the review that is to follow, as you might have already expected, is going to be very biased.

The story is about Edward Norton (known only as the narrator) and how he loses everything to find himself. He is an insomniac; hates his job; has no semblance of a social life and hence tries to make up for it by becoming a slave to consumerism. On his doctor's advice he goes to therapeutic sessions and becomes addicted. The tragic lives of people he meets becomes his own and he finds solace in their grievances. In comes Marla Singer (Helena Bonham Carter), a tourist like him and totally ruins everything. He can no longer wallow in the grief of others. The presence of another fake mirrors his own and he again goes back to the way he was. On a routine official trip he comes across Tyler Durden (Brat Pitt) and is by his free will. A freak accident and a few beers later the narrator finds himself sharing a dilapidated house with Tyler. He says he makes soaps.

They continue with their own lives, occasionally finding time to beat the crap outta each other. More people join in…and FIGHT CLUB is born. By day every one of its members do their menial jobs only to be resurrected by the fights they have at night. These fights give them a sense of being which their otherwise normal life cant seem to give.


“Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need.”


What the narrator had thought he left behind comes back..Marla Singer. She invades what he had come to recognize as a perfect little existence…perfect in his own way anyways. Marla and Tyler have various sexual encounters but they never seem to together except those encounters. If only he could get rid of her.


“Marla... the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can't”


The club on the other hand starts growing at an exponential rate. What started off as a bunch of guys fighting it out at the basement of a bar grows into an organized horde. Fight Club is rechristened as “Project Mayhem”. Its purpose: to cause chaos in an otherwise harmless fashion. These guys set out to destroy public property, play pranks and recruit more and more into the club. By the time the narrator realizes the gravity of the situation, the clubs have branched out in various cities. The whole thing eventually becomes a little out of control..which come to think of was why it was started in the first place. It was never meant to be controlled..it was meant to reign free. It was created with the intention to break free form the shackled helplessness of consumerist lifestyle. It seems too late to for the narrator to do anything about it from that point on.

What happens next is something I would like you to see for yourself. And to say that what unfolds is an absolute masterpiece of filmmaking would be to give the word 'masterpiece' a perfect example. In the end it all boils down to two simple lines :


“The things you own end up owning you.”

“It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything. “

close encounter of the 'third' kind

As i went down to the basement to do my weekly laundry i found a fat american guy already using both the machines. I thought i'll wait till he gets done. This is what ensued:

Fat American Guy: Heyy there!

Me: Hi

Fat American Guy: I'm using both the machines. I have to wash my khakhis and shirts in one and my underwear and socks in the other one. I'll be done soon

Me: Ok.

Fat American Guy : My name is.....

Me: Hi i'm Soham

Fat American Guy : So.... (looks at my shorts) what do you do So-ham

Me: (a lil perturbed) i work for Lufthansa (didnt know what else to say)

Fat American Guy : Oh great! I work for North West Airlines. Just moved in to this hotel a few days back. Man...they dont even give a basket for carrying your laundry.
.
.
.
5 mins later
And i'm sitting here on a 4'th of july weekend doing my laundry while my friends are having a drinking binge.

Me: i know how it feels to be away from friends.


As i move around the small room his eyes make a locus of pts arnd and below my waist line.

Fat American Guy : So do you have a girl friend So-ham?

Thinking i have to make sure he doesnt get me wrong...or right..whichever way you see it.

Me : Oh yeah..i've been seeing someone for quite some time now.

Fat American Guy : Is she here with you now?

Me: No she lives in Australia

Fat American Guy : Ohh...a long distance relationship huh! It must be so HARD for you to stay celibate at this age.

Me: Yup. (then suddenly correcting myself )
Well i have to. I have to respect the relationship...i mean she is probably going through the same pains i'm going through.

Fat American Guy : She is a lucky girl.

Me: ( ohh kayyyy) Are u gonna sit here till your laundry is done?

Fat American Guy : Yeah i have nothing better to do. What are you doing tonight?

Me: Ohh i'm going out with this friend of mine. We are going out for dinner.

Fat American Guy : A guy friend?

Me : No a girl.

Fat American Guy : Oh ok. Good. ( with a nod which makes the "good" sound more like a "hmmmm" )

Looks at my shorts again

Me : Listen i have some stuff to attend to. I'll leave my clothes here and come back in some time. Even you'll be done by then

Fat American Guy : Nonsense my friend. Mine is almost done...look that one has already finished.

He goes over and takes out his clothes from one of the washers. I go upto the washing machine to load my clothes and my undies fall off from the sides. He picks it up..not with 2 fingers that i would've have probably used to pick up someone else's used undies if i had tried to pick any in the first place, but by grabbing it in a tight clenched fist, as if unwilling to let go.

Me: Thanks.

Fat American Guy : **SMILES**

I quickly fill in my laundry..making sure nothing falls this time.

Me: Ok gotta go. It was a pleas...it was nice meeting u.

The guy takes my hand into his. Holds it like i wud've held M's and says...

Fat American Guy: Will see you around then.


I ran to my room and called up M. Cudnt get through. Then i called B...told her abt my 'encounter' and then i called M and told her the same thing. Switched on the TV and saw naked girls play sports ... and i was cleansed again.



p.s. Please abbreviate Fat American Guy for full effect.

a walk beneath the clouds

The forecast said 9 degrees in the morning and 15 during daytime. 15 seemed normal and I didn’t bother carrying an umbrella or a jacket. At arnd 11 am it started raining. And it continued to rain throughout the day. I waited for the rains to stop but it just wudnt. So I stepped out..very ill equipped to deal with the rains, thinking a drizzle wont be that much of a problem. I shudnt have overlooked the temperature though.

The mercury had already dropped down a couple of places. I stepped out of the building and tried to light a cigarette. A gush of wind blew off the flame. I somehow knew that the walk to the station wudnt be like any other day. By the time I crossed the road my shirt had already darkened. I was the only one on the road with no umbrella or jacket on myself. It is at this time that I started to feel the sting.

Each drop felt like a needle going thru my skin and flesh right up to the bone. And the wind acted like salt on a festering wound. The only thing that kept me going was tht cigarette. I kept switching the cigg bet both the hands. As soon as that switch was made the hand tht was free went into my trouser pocket (and I was too fuckin cold to think wht ur prolly thinking now). And everytime I made tht switch I felt pins and needles. My hands were shivering so much that even smoking was difficult. Before the cigg butt cud go in between my lips it touched the entire periphery as if telling me on a subconscious level on how harmful its effects are…ironic considering how tht was the only thing tht somehow distracted me from the cold.

I rched the station only to find the trains running late. There wasn’t any more walking to be done once I board the train. After about half an hr i was at my station. I looked outside..it was still raning. I took out the cigg packet..still one left. I wud reach home before I can finish half of it…. :)

Bitte nicht storen

The steward asks me whether I wud like something to drink and proceeds to tell me the choices I have…milk, chocolate milk, cold drink, juice..i hesistanty ask…’whisky?’ and I’m given a weird look by the 2 guys sitting next to me. They had settled for orange juice. Anyway, its 4 am in India and I’m flying 650000 ft above ground at a speed of 650 km/h. The guy next to me starts a conversation. Seems they have a connecting flight from Frankfurt to Paris. Some sorta business meeting. My destination….Frankfurt.

I take out the earphones and plug it in..the in flight magazine says there’s a station completely dedicated to rock. Whisky and rock..seems like a good combination. Better then the movie atleast…its 27 dresses btw. I wake up around 9 30..the screen helpfully corrects me..its 6 am. I’ve reached germany. Will land in another couple of hrs. This guy ..Ashish..from my office comes to pick me up. I reach my hotel room my 9 30 (I’ve already set my watch 3.5 hrs behind). It’s a Sunday and everything is closed…and I mean everything. I go out in the evening to the adjacent park only to see a homeless bum speaking all my himself. The next day is a holiday too. So I have 2 days completely to myself. I roam arnd the streets to find any sign of life but it seems everybody wud rather shut themselves in than step out. This is how things are during holidays.

There are like 36 channels on TV..10 of which are Pay channels and the rest german. The only exception is CNN but I cant spend my entire day watching tht. Ohh even Mtv is kinda English. Atleast the music that they play is and also the all American reality shows which they have shitloads of. I check out to see if the pay channels are worth it. It turns out that the English movie channel has just 3 movies which they run in a continous cycle. “I am legend”, “The bucket list” and “Rambo 4” and the charge is 13 Euros..what a complete ripoff. I guess I’m not ready to pay that much just to see The bucket list being played every 9 hrs(I’ve already the seen the other 2..ohh and as I’m typing this whole thing, The bucket list is being shown…for the 3293918’th time). Also after 12 a few channels become an advertisement of sorts for porn and the likes. German’s have weird fetishes though…cos amongst the many ads tht adore the screen one particular ad was ‘hatke’. It seems u can order for porn wherein u wud find girls peeing…what kinda fetish is that anyways?? Office tom..have to leave the room early..I better hit the bed soon.

First day at office is pretty ok. This guy Stan who sits in the same room as I is hilarious and has a very colourful vocab. He’s the only American in the office and every sentence of his is punchuated with profanities. Ex: this French guy called maxime and stan are discussing a presentation…

Maxime (in a thick french accent) : This sentence should be in past continous ya?

Stan: I don’t fuckin know…I failed English back in school. I was too busy getting blowjobs back then.

I leave office arnd 5 30…have to go grocery shopping. Now being a novice I wud have a lil bit of trouble right. Well…as I go back and read that again I find it a gross understatement. I go through every alley of the supermarket to find out what I need to buy…but I dot fuckin know what to. Its difficult to distinguish one stuff from the other cos everything is in fuckin german. Even the helpful lil hints don’t do much good…100% pure “Reines Pflanzenol”. I mean what the fuck is that? Anyway, its vegetable oil..need that. After abt an hr and a half of roaming anrd..i finally get some stuff I can actually understand. I buy 12 lts of “Naturliches Mineralwasser”(seems like mineral water right)..i figure its gonna last me a long time. I come home and try to gulp down half of a bottle only to realize its carbonated. Ppl here have a thing for this kinda water and u’ll mostly find germans drinkin this instead of the normal water we drink. After that first sip I haven’t touched it again. Its still kept in my fridge eating up a lot of space.

Cooking to feed your self is a major hassle cos I’ve never done that bfor. But with quite a few hits and misses I’ve come to churn out a few things pretty decently. The good thing is..i haven’t messed up *totally* even once..which btw I thought I wud. The cute lil kitchen has almost everything I need. I tend to make something extra during dinner which I have the next day for lunch. That is what the other guys do too cos it seems like no matter where u go the canteen food has to suck.

Living like this has its advantages though. I can have beer with my food anytime I want…actually I can have beer ANYTIME I want. Although I limit tht to once a week. And how can I miss the fact tht European chicks are HOTTT…like full figured playboy playmates. I think I’m beginning to like this place.

Its been 2 weeks since I landed and I still have 2.5 months to go. Things have been a bit tough but then life generally is. The good thing is…I’m not a total waste now. I can actually cook :P

Have to go. Watch this space though….

Kicks, nuts and the adverbs in between...

Life has this habit of kicking you in the nuts just to make sure you've still got em. And it hurts every fuckin time. The last couple of occasions happened in quick succession with the result of CAT and SNAP being declared with very few days in between. I hadn't completely recovered from the first when the second happened. And experienced individuals would know, the second one hurts a lot more than the first. It's like being struck with a tennis ball followed by a medicine ball. And because i was sure (read: cocky) enough to assume that i would ace the SNAP test i let the dates of CET pass by. Procrastination works when you know your gonna do the work "some day". Well i did the entire work, from getting the form to filling up fucked up formalities associated with it (like what kind of INDIAN citizen i am) a few hours before the deadline. I was ecstatic. As if filling up the form guaranteed my admission in one of the premium B-Schools offered. I had to take a day off from office to do so which only later did i realize was gonna materialize as the 3'rd "kick in the nuts" for me in a months time.
A lil bit of info about my job is required at this stage. I work for Lufthansa Airlines. One of the biggest European airlines with its HQ at Frankfurt, Germany. Our onsite thus is Frankfurt and is on rotational basis. Only one of us is made to go there for a period of three months to work. And Feb-April could have been my turn to go. Now i've been working with this guy (3 yrs senior to me) for a month now on some project. And it hasn't been amongst my best times in Hexaware. Clearly we both have issues..which is to say i hate his guts and i would assume so does he. This dude (read: fucker) went on a 11 days holiday to his native place and gave me a pile of work which he was supposed to do. I finished 2/3 of it when he came back. He then gave me some more which i didn't find very amusing. And i started slacking. The day i took that aforementioned leave was the day he sent me a mail asking me to complete all the work he had given in 2 days. Which i read the next day losing one day in between. I somehow tried to complete that days quota but made some mistakes. Now everybody makes mistakes right. But it seems i'm not allowed to...atleast when i'm working with him. That mistake was followed by an one hr lecture where he labeled me "insincere, flamboyant and the weakest link in the group". And proceeded to shock me by saying that i wasn't the one going to Frankfurt but it was this other guy from my batch. It seems "they think i'm a slacker, that i don't do my job with sincerity and that i'm very irresponsible". He forgot to mention who "they" were. But apparently "they" talk a lot behind my back. If i'm to assume that my manager is the one who said all those things i would be rather shocked. Cos i don't think an 'irresponsible' person can be made the mentor of a new batch of joinees. My manager gave me this 'responsibility' and thus i assume there is some amount of trust involved between us. And so it won't come as a surprise if my manager was not the only one involved in making the decision to send the next guy. Also the fact that this project i'm doing with this guy(lets call him an asshole now) will take another month to complete and that sending me would mean shit loads of work for that guy alone works towards my case..that is if i have any. Anybody can do the math on this one. It isn't hard to contemplate his act...assholes are always closer than they appear. But then labeling someone doesn't make things less painful. Else he would have been SO happy.

And this is where i would like to add a crappy song by Bryan Adams.
Here I am.
This is me.
There's no where else on earth "he'd rather let me be"
Here i am.
It's me and you.
Tonight we'll make "his" dreams come true.

Early morning walk.

I'm sure you must have taken an early morning walk. It is BLISS. The immaculate and fresh air, the silence that you long for and the feeling when you stand on a rock and shout out loud... "I'm the king of the world" and get away with it.
Or atleast that is what i've been told.
Tomorrow morning i'm gonna experience all of it.

6 a.m. I wake up with "Wake Up" by RATM as my alarm tone. I thought it wud be a nice touch. It is fuckin irritating to hear distortion guitars so early in the morning and i hate RATM albeit momentarily.

6:15 I've somehow managed to go out. It feels great. I was complaining for no good reason. I walk to the nearby park to get in touch with nature. Nature's call...excuse me as i relieve myself.

6:25 I'm not alone at the park. There are some old geezers trying really hard to lift their arms and legs. And there is this other dude..he seems to be warming up for something. He's gonna have a sprint across the park's perimeter. I have to see this. He starts...quite a enthusiastic guy, but i wonder why he didnt wear a bra or something. The guy has a nice pair of 'mamary glands' and i hate it when biology plays pranks like these. He runs for like 2 mins and falls flat on the green grass.
A smirk on my face that shows superiority. I can do better than this guy.

6:35 I think i've warmed up enough. Time to take that sprint. The first leap and then the next...this is easy. And in a minute i've already completed a quarter of the distance. And it already feels like i've run a marathon.
Neil Armstrong had said "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind". I think i've taken quite a few leaps and that accounts for a lot for mankind. I better stop.

6:40 I'm panting like a woman delivering a baby. To hell with all this running.. after all i came here to take a walk. And that is how u can enjoy the beauty that is early morning.
To admire small things like the tiny dew drops on leaves. Those leaves are glimmering as if they were studded with diamonds. I move closer to have a look. Hmm this isnt dew drops...ohh this is where i relieved myself. I look to my left and right..no one is looking. I quickly get up. I would hate to be the guy who gets his kicks by inspecting his own pee.

6:45 I think i shud just walk the perimeter. Let the morning sink in. My feet sinks into something....goddam..it's dog poo...this sucks. Ok enough of this morning walk shit. I have to go home. Have to get ready for office.

Next morning i set my alarm clock to wake me up at 7..have to catch the company bus at 7 45. No more morning walks for me.