Thursday, August 23, 2007


Today I have read so much crap that I have nothing to say.
So, nothing.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Bollywood, the weaver of dreams

Whatever we say about Bollywood, how much ever we scream ourselves hoarse at how it stomps over other Indian cinema, it has a knack of winning over audiences' hearts. It pulls out strands of hopes and dreams of the common man, paints it in bright colours, makes it larger than life, and gives it back to you in glitzy wrapping. And the audience watches, awed at its own dream magnified.

So when our sports teams keep redefining "rock bottom", Bollywood like a benevolent fairy, swoops down, gathers shards of broken hope, bottles the sighs of disappointed fans, captures emotions and creates a sports film.

On celluloid, a gathering of motley people unites against the Goliath. A team of villagers attempting a hand at the Burra Sahib's strange game, in Lagaan. A motley team of women who shoot up unbelievably in the international arena, in Chakde India. Suspense and drama keeps the audience on the edge of their seats. Fighting all odds, overcoming every seemingly impossible barrier, David wins.

The audience cheers every goal, every run. The team they are fervently batting is finally winning. They go home, optimistic. They wait for the next tournament to come along, hope rekindled. And the team lets them down again. And again. And we turn back to Bollywood to tend to our wounds.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Email stress

I am going to attribute my writer's block to this:

Emails are causing unprecedented levels of stress among office workers as they struggle to cope with an unending tide of incoming messages. A team of researchers has found that one in three office workers who use computers regularly suffer from email stress.

That's it. I am definitely stressed...
The rest of it here.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Post Script

As I sit here in office, a dull thud reverberates through the building, through the chairs, through the tables, through these keys, through me.
Like the pulse of a giant slug.
In fact, it is a giant slug.
Named Development.