The birth of a child marks the demise of a relationship and the rebirth of the relationship is marked with the demise of the child. An interesting concept, ingenuous storyline essentially devoid of the excessive sentimentality of Bollywood lest the last twenty minutes and commendable make-up of Amitabh Bachchan, although I would have preferred an actual patient. A though provoking yet entertaining movie that made me feel proud of Indian cinema.
The title itself tinkles the thought process. At first glance, a layman will mistake it for Paa, the Hindi word for father, and the promotions of the movie emphasizing the unique father-son relationship (obviously capitalizing on Abhishek- Amitabh relationship) will reaffirm this belief but look again and you realize that PAA is the acronym of Premature or Accelerated Aging alluding to the rare but dreadful disease Progeria. Similarly, the child’s name Auro for most would represent the short form of Aurobindo but the name is probably derived from the name of the movie “Aurora Encounters” that stars Mickey Hays, a Progeria patient, as an alien.
But what actually kept me engaged throughout the movie were the eye-catching watches of Abhishek and Vidya that had me guessing their make throughout the movie but my speculations were put to an end at the culmination of the movie. The scene of enjoined wrists revealing Hugo Boss label!! Contended, I gazed back at the Tommy label on my wrist!!
Sitting at the edge of my dad’s study, gathering dust but not losing its shimmer, wrapped in velvet, beckoning with an aloof air. Even before my palate had learned to savor the taste of whisky, I had developed a fascination for this mysterious drink!
Kudos to Johnnie Walker for creating this masterpiece, long after the world had acknowledged him as a master blender and was ready to take him at his word without skepticism. He then launched this premier brand shrouded in mystery, not revealing the blend or age. Few skeptics still argue that it is not worth its price but the small voice of dissent gets drowned in the voice of masses. Amazing marketing and branding!!
Years later I did get to savor the unique nectar, devouring every drop of the expensive unadulterated liquid bought out of my own money. It is the unique aroma that hits you when you uncork a bottle after removing it from its velvet box packing, making the entire experience so memorable. Someday I will do justice to the bottle still sitting and gathering dust in my father’s study, beckoning with an aloof air!!
Simple humor has potential to boggle numerous minds and trigger endless debates for years on the go! Douglas Adams in his book Hitchhiker’s Guide to Galaxy has defined 42 as the Ultimate answer to every question in the world. The Ultimate Question was later defined as “9 x 6 =?” to demonstrate that there cannot be a single Ultimate answer to every question in the world, there will always be some uncertainty or a mismatch.
Douglas’ reasoning: 42 is a simple number represented as 101010 in binary system. His mirth has triggered many to lose sleep over the significance of the number as many argue 9 X 6 = 42 in base 13.
Interesting points to note:
- Weight of our galaxy is 3 X 10 ^ 42 kilograms.
- There are 42 Laws to the game of Cricket
- The angle at which light reflects off of water to create a rainbow is 42 degrees.
- Two physical constants in the universe are the speed of light and the diameter of a proton. It takes light 10 ^ – 42 seconds to cross the diameter of a proton.
- A barrel holds 42 gallons
- 42 is roughly the age at which man enters mid-life crisis
- Title of a popular song of Coldplay alleged to be alluding to the year 1642….
The endless mysteries behind every number, the most potent numbers are 9 and 13, but the number 42 has attained immortality post Douglas’ fame!!
A choice that inevitably each one of us would have been enmeshed with during the course of most adult social interfaces. Sometimes we’re even denied of the basic democratic right and a glass of tea is blithely placed in front of me with two eyes boring into me waiting for me to gulp down the brown liquid, down to its last drop, leaving no room for doubt that the slightest of protests would be met with fiercest measures. Little choice I have but to meekly comply, bound by the shackles of social obligation. The Chinese had added milk to their tea to slowly poison their prisoners and the same is being repeated here in the guise of social demeanor.
I had refrained myself from this social stigma till I got into the grind of life – job. Now the mere lure of two diurnal coffee breaks has pulled me into the groove and there’s no denying my addiction.
Cappuccino, Latte, Espresso…….?
Cutting the list short, if given my druthers machine coffee else Cappuccino the closest cousin.
A quizzical look, “Machine coffee? Isn’t that the worst form of coffee?”
I have my reasons, as that’s the only form I get at work. Beggars can’t be choosers, right:)
My rationale for choosing coffee over tea?
The aroma of Coffee Beans simply knocks off the trace of any other olfactory sense lingering in your mind. Perhaps coffee can perform the same action with thoughts!!
At the eve of the 62nd Independence Day, our country has been gripped by its worst enemy- paranoia, and in incarceration we all have renounced the basic freedom bestowed upon all living beings: the freedom to breathe. Some shackled within the tentacles of fear have hidden behind masks. Others, who even though have valued their freedom above everything else, have been forced to regard the air they breathe with suspicion and choke themselves at the mere sight of these omnipresent masks. Swine flu, the invited guest has left us a present- “The Diabolical Freedom Insignia”!!
The world wakes up to the longest solar eclipse: A black disc submerged in darkness, illuminated only by a scintillating thin band of light on the periphery.
I begin my day with the dark empty space opposite me but my mind plays games and a mirage is sighted: the silhouette of the person clearly engraved in my mind, seated with a perfect reclined pose. The picture clears to reveal well chiseled features, furrowed forehead, eyes riveted to the computer screen, chin firmly rested on the palm, a deep mellifluous voice emanating from somewhere, every syllable uttered with utmost precision. The mere dimensions of his waist make my hand twitch to coil my hands around and see if it fits. Eyes meet accompanied by a resonance of egos and flow of synergies; words lose their meaning. An acknowledging impish incandescent smile serves as the light on the periphery that illuminates my day!!
Sudden rush of blood and throbbing of veins at the rare sight of old love; the passion still alive and burning. An eternal love was born after A’s passionate introduction to Nabokov during our first meeting at Landmark, Gurgaon. The introduction echoed in my mind as I devoured the pages of Lolita, the epitome of female deification, savouring every word of the beautiful language. With passion, I have further introduced my love to many, but much to my chagrin, it has been scorned at by many as “porn”. I try and shrug away the blasphemy with the thought that whether you love it or hate it, the writing is too powerfulto be ignored!!
Two years hence, a reunion at Landmark, Mumbai: “The Gift”- a present to myself. Am totally smitten by the cover (Vintage), a masterpiece of art. The protagonist dreams of writing a novel and is passionate about lepidoptera (butterflies & moths). The cover depicts a net trapping a butterfly and the space between is filled with a phantasmagorical image of a typewriter and pages emerging from it. The golden glow around the typewriter, highlighted by the dull blue background, reflects how writing/ thoughts/ dreams possess the power to illuminate our lives. Printed over the golden rectangle is the line:
“[Nabokov] is in a class by himself”.- The Atlantic
The reek of dampness completely overpowers the olfactory senses and the omnipresent fungal growth becomes the order of the day. Verdant greenery, cool temperatures and sometimes rainy holidays (even for offices!) do cheer you up, even if momentarily. I yearn for the aroma of wet earth but it never reaches the senses. News broadcasters don’t need to scout for breaking news as they get obsessed with the water logged roads and poodles of the “Mayanagari”. The weather forecasters too become clairvoyant in their flood predictions that are more often than not proven wrong.
But once the monsoon season is over there is not even a drop of downpour from up above. “Surprise me”, I would whisper into the ears of the maximum city deafened by the humdrum sound of traffic, as I wake up dreaming of rains, but to no avail; this respite is only during monsoons!
After much dallying, I have finally created my blog!!
The birth of a child marks the demise of a relationship and the rebirth of the relationship is marked with the demise of the child. An interesting concept, ingenuous storyline essentially devoid of the excessive sentimentality of Bollywood lest the last twenty minutes and commendable make-up of Amitabh Bachchan, although I would have preferred an actual patient. A though provoking yet entertaining movie that made me feel proud of Indian cinema.