The Pacifist

'Twas not even a drop of noble blood in him. Nay, the boy was but a child of a farmer. A peasant. No more than a lowly serf, suited but for the servitude others. Yet foolish and headstrong as he were, he tooketh to arms as though he were of noble blood, and went forth searching through the land for fortune.

With a few victories under his belt and a head full of airs, he tooketh to the road in search of greater treasures. What creatures in what lairs would he find? He was confident he was sufficiently fit to faceth them all.

But alas! He faced many battles in his quest to build a kingdom and fell many a time. Defeat hung at him like a plague. His worth was made known to him. He traveled alone and long under moon and sun to no avail. Thinking he were one of burly stature and wit, he withered now with remorse.

Still he fought on! For see!, he would thinkst, See they, of all shapes and sizes, from all lands, they come and build such might castles! Oh, if only I were to have such a castle. what a just rule I would hold over my kingdom! Yet none would hear him.

And so finally he retreated, weary and beaten, into the forest. 'Twas there that he saw many beautiful things, things he had not seen before on the road. Deep in the forest, there he found a peace which he had not known before, could not know. He layeth down his arms. The peace consumeth him. He is calm. All memories of lost battles and grievous defeats fadeth away.

It chanced that one day a traveler met him. He asked, "What doth thou expect to accomplish here? How wouldst thou build a kingdom living in this wilderness?"

The peaceful warrior replied, "I am a pacifist, sire. Fight? I cannot. I do not care if I win or lose, so long as I can live in peace."

The Benchwarmer

Alright, so I've been out of the game for a while. I got sent off a long time ago for some stupid play on my part, I agree (especially after reviewing the game footage). But since, I've found it difficult to find a place on the pitch again. Perhaps The Manager has lost faith in me. Or perhaps the game has just changed and I just can't keep up with it. This is highly possible, I've always been a little old fashioned. Whatever that means.

But truly the game has changed. India has always been a tough pitch, but the times, boy are they a-changing. I blame this on the internet, MTV, Bollywood, and the extremely skewed and ever dropping sex ratio of this nation. It's making it more and more difficult for out of favor chaps like myself.

It's high time for some serious introspection. I'm going to look at this objectively as possible. What are my strengths, what are my weaknesses. And what is wrong with me? Let's start with the obvious. Now I guess I look pretty ok. I mean, I look ok for your average Maharashtrian male from one of the "village-cities". Which places me at about the 5.9 billion mark worldwide, in a ranking system where, say, Cristiano Ronaldo would be first. Incidentally, I share a birthday with Cristiano. However, that is where the similarities end. Look-wise, I'm more comparable to his Portuguese national team compatriot, Luis Nani.

Ok fine, I've had several injuries and there has been a debatable loss of form (the damn media seems to think so, and as you know, whatever the media says is right). But one learns from their mistakes. I've been training really hard since then, and it shows. And I know all the tactics. Playing it defensive, or all out attack, or even sitting deep and hitting them on the counter. I have studied the theory thoroughly. Oh my god, I have so studied the theory. I'm quite proficient with it now and just need a chance to put it in practice and prove myself. I just need that chance, and its all up to The Boss to put me in.

Yet week after week, I find myself on the bench. Just there, but not quite. I'm on the sidelines. And no one questions The Gaffer. Every time I ask him to put me in, he just looks at me like this:

No one argues with The Gaffer, bitch.

You try arguing with that.

Its hard sometimes, watching from the sidelines. I just wonder, why is The Gaffer always passing me over? I mean I see much less capable players out there making a name for themselves and scoring some real beauties. My teammates often tell me its not about build, or beauty of play, or other such technicalities. Well what then?

Come on Gaffer, put me in. Its obvious I'm not your favorite player, but that's ok. You don't want me to start, well that's quite clear, and that's fine. But go ahead and put me in as a sub! I don't mind, really I don't. A late sub if it pleases you! Just to go out and stretch my legs if nothing else! My only aim is to please. But I can't do that from the sidelines, now can I?

I know I complain about being on the bench. But don't worry, I'm not going to do a Carlos Tevez and go play for the other team. Of course I've thought of it. But, er, let's just say that I could never adapt to their style of play. I just wouldn't fit into their setup. No, I ain't switching sides. So it seems I better be quite content with the bench.

Who am I kidding. If I go out there I'll probably make some rash tackle. Then some Cristiano like figure will come over and goad me into getting sent off and then run to wink at the bench. Where I will be next week.

And then I lose my place on the team again.

Oh, this is all bollocks. Imagine what it does to the morale of a player? In my time on the bench, I've seen people get stretchered off, sent off with multiple match bans, score goals, be subbed, and even a lot of unfit players make it out there. It's a shame. And in the midst of all this, my butt has been firmly on the bench. Now I know how Owen Hargreaves feels.

Oi, Gaffer, I'm ready! Put me in the game!

The Facebook Era

Technology. The great equalizer.

And so it came to be that the world was covered by a great web. Isn't technology amazing? Now, no matter what- and i mean no matter what... time of day, distance, availability, weather, geography, socio-political situation- we are all connected. Oh baby, are we connected.

You know that picture on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with the two fingers touching? I can imagine the same thing only with two people extending computer cables (and 3 billion people "like" this).

The new generation is spoiled. They were born into it. They don't even know what "post" is. Unless its "post something on Facebook" (oh, I've clicked photos of trip to the grocery store! Let's upload them so people can post their comments! And then 923 people "like" this. Really?). They don't understand the gravity and the brilliance of it. They take it for granted.

I was no exception till a few years ago. I was in class in college, depressed and bored (no other way to be in my college), and I was texting a friend back home. And suddenly I realized, "holy crap... I'm here in college and she's 500km away in Goa, and we are talking as though we are right next to each other. Wow...".

Enter the Digital Age. Possibilities are endless. Tamaso ma jyotir gamaya. From darkness, light. Well, I don't think that's quite what they had in mind when whoever said that said it.

We can now stay in touch so easily with anyone and everyone... regardless of whether either party wants to keep in touch with the other. Old school friends, college buddies, long lost pals of childhood days long gone, relatives, colleagues, accquaintences... we can know their life, and they can know ours, at the click of a button. We can interact.

Yet the closer we get, somehow, the more far removed I feel. The more connected I am, the more and more I feel disconnected.

I have a colleague as a friend on Facebook. She works on my floor. 5 days a week, we are no more than 20 feet apart for most of the day. I have her picture on Facebook. But I haven't actually seen her in weeks.

I know that some airhead little girl "thinks her friends are awesome and loves them", but I don't know the name of the guy in the next cubicle.

Facebook can be a dangerous thing too. I like to break balls on the SNS. I once said something that I thought was innocent on a friend's profile. That friend took it really bad, blocked me, and hasn't spoken to me since. Hmmm. I guess we weren't that good friends. But then, what is the demarcation to know the difference? She was in my "Friends List". They are not divided into "good friends", "so-so friends", "can't-take-a-joke friends", etc. Bloody hell.

And how many people that I should really interact with do I actually do so with? My parents. My sister, my grandmother. My good ol' gang of friends (whom I think are friends for life). I see them once in a month, day, and week, respectively. [Footnote: Adding that girl that you like is not going to improve your chances with her either]. Not to mention there are college friends, office mates, and fringe relatives. (<insert number> people "don't like" this. I "don't like" this).

No, its a bit too much. Often there are 50 people online in my Facebook chat. And often I don't feel like talking to any one of them. Sms packs are a dangerous thing. You're on the phone half the time. And you hardly even actually talk. If you don't get a message or a call, you feel depressed. No one loves you. If I don't get an email for half an hour, I feel annoyed. No one cares. Why didn't so-and-so comment on my status or my pic? I am alone.

Look at those people's pics. Why haven't I been there? Why aren't I doing this like that person? I'm falling so far behind. I'm doing nothing with my life. I'm going to die unaccomplished. You don't have to admit to me, but be honest with yourself: you ever felt like that?

Just 8 years ago I was in school, and it was nowhere near this bad. Sure, we had internet, we had the telephone, we had all that jazz. But now, to not be connected is to not exist. Now, I am connected to everyone and everything. Yet sometimes, these days, I feel lonelier than I've ever felt.

Click here if you "like" this. Or I will be very sad.

83rd Oscars Review- 4 trophies and Inception was "snubbed"

The 83^rd Oscars have come and gone in a flurry. After much anticipation, I am left with mixed emotions now that the thing is over.

Now it was pretty obvious to me that there would not be such thing as a “sweep” this year. It was a very open year for the Oscar contenders this year, with strong claims from all the candidates. And while it is true that it did not exactly sweep the Awards, it is still not a stretch of the imagination to say that The King’s Speech owned. It bagged 4 top awards, Best Original Screenplay, Best Actor, Best Director, and Best Picture.

Inception tied the ultimate “winner” with 4 out of its 8 nominations, which were the 2 sound awards, visual effects, and Best Cinematography, work I hope Wally Pfister continues to do with Nolan. And ah, yes, Nolan the perennial underdog sat demurely watching the proceedings, the epitome of calm, though even he looked a tad surprised when they didn’t call his name for Best Original Screenplay. In fact, I’m pretty happy with the way the Oscars turned out, except for two contentious thorns that are bothering me.

Best Score went to the fantastic work of Trevor Reznor and Atticus Ross for The Social Network (which also got Best Adapted Screenplay and Film Editing). While the score suited the movie beautifully and is a great listen, none of the nominated scores can match up in epic grandeur to Hans Zimmer’s score for Inception. Admittedly I’ve not listened to the other scores much, whereas I have listened to the entireInception album many times. Whether it was the music from the action scenes, or the haunting score that captured the drama and mystery of the more deep scenes, this really was the best score. The track Mombasa is pure adrenaline in the most grand form, and my favorite track Time that was played in the finishing scene, one of the best scenes of the movie, is one of redemption (they also played it every timeInception got an award J). Zimmer was robbed.

Best Original Screenplay went to Tom Hooper’s film. Now while it would be unjust to say that Nolan was robbed, Inception had a great plot and story. However, I can’t really fault any of the other nominees because they were all simply fantastic. Nolan has been shafted too many times, first with The Dark Knight, and now with Inception. Every person who got an award for the movie thanked Nolan effusively, calling him “the master” and what not, and he just sat there with a Cheshire cat smile. Nolan, you will always be the man.

Speaking of the Cheshire Cat, Alice In Wonderland picked up Art Direction and Costumes award. While the other nominees gave stiff competition, they all kind of had something to draw on, whereas with Alice the only limit was the designers’ imagination. So its probably appropriately given (I say probably because I haven’t seen the movie).

Colin Firth picked up his trophy for Best Actor to much applause and had to control his urge to dance on stage. It was a special award considering his competition. Natalie Portman was gorgeous on the night as she picked up her well deserved trophy for Black Swan, the only award for the movie on the night. She’s come a long way since playing the little assassin in Leon at the tender age of 11 :o. I’ve had a mad crush on her since Episode I, so it’s special for me too. However, her fellow nominee Jennifer Lawrence has proved that she has a bright future. Best Supp Actor and Actress were the only 2 trophies for The Fighter, and I don’t think there are any arguments there. Only my heart goes out to the ever so charming Hailee Steinfield. And props to my man Christian Bale, and man who takes his job oh so seriously (you try losing 60 pounds and then putting on 100 again). Way to go, Batman. An emotional Melissa Leo dropped the f-bomb for her speech, she could hardly contain herself. A few of the other winners had a bit of fun with this. Best Director was one of the most open categories of all, and I would have been happy with anything. Congrats, Tom Hooper.

Toy Story 3 was pretty good, but not when you compare it with its predecessors. Meh, call me sentimental. I preferred How To Train Your Dragon this year, but the Academy didn’t.

127 Hours and True Grit didn't walk away with anything, and they would have to have been something pretty special what with their fellow nominees. Except that I thought Franco was brilliant in his movie and thoroughly deserved his Best Actor nomination. I would not have been displeased at all had he won, in fact I would have been quite happy. But more people on the jury thought Firth was the better man.

Anne Hathaway and James Franco were great hosts, filling the show with plenty of humor. Anne brought the energy, while Franco was the anti-thesis, playing it calm and composed. Or so I thought initially... but after some reflection, I came to realize that they didn't really click, thanks largely in part to Franco's cold stance. Nonetheless Hathaway is quite a singer as she put on a nice musical dissing Hugh Jackman (all in the name of good fun). She was a bucket of energy and fun, and I'm not just saying that because I like her.

So, finally, now that its all said and done, with The King’s Speech taking the big part of the pie and many other movies making their mark in history, this is a satisfied movie fan and a disappointed fanboi signing off.

Death Of A Weekend

I'm so depressed.

So very depressed.

And yet another weekend passes by. Bah. To what end, I ask?

I live from weekend to weekend. Waiting as the week drains by, burns to nothingness. Looking forward with such anticipation for that release from boredom, for that salvation, for that energy. And at no time is that wait longer and more desperate than Monday morning. I want... I need that weekend, that Friday evening. And finally the weekend does come and its going to be awesome! And then, inevitably, it too fizzles out and dies, and is gone in a flash. Doing the same things I've been doing. To no end.

And I've been doing this for a year.

Yes its been a year since I've come back to Pune, marked, incidentally, by Valentine's Day. Back from training in Infosys Mysore. That was a joyous day for me. As always, when I am on the brink of change, I was full of a hope, a new hope, for a new life. A year later, its all the same.

What am I doing? I'm drinking away the days. I have no direction. What is my job? I don't know. It's just some money. Really, do I deserve it? Do I earn it? I'm so bored of everything.

I can't do this. I can't get depressed. Not now. Its too soon. Every year I get depressed from a few times to several times. I mean actually clinically depressed. Just no one knows about it. The recent trend (the last few years, ok, since after highschool) is that I generally go through one depression in the month of April. What is up with that? What is it with that end of March and start of April time? It used to be so happy. It used to mean the end of exams, it used to mean freedom and joy and abandon. I went through one of the worst depressions till date in April 2009. Man, I thought my life lacked direction then. Sigh. Yes, I have a depressing life.

But it's just February. I can't be depressed so soon. Not in the new year. Especially when I started the year with such positive changes. Meh. I can't fucking do this.

One whole year I've just been mucking around. And now all I keep wondering is, what is it all for? What is there at the end of it all?

Jesus fucking Christ. I'm serious. I'm on the verge of tears I'm so depressed.

Oh, loathful Monday.

And the best part is the weekend no longer provides that respite it once did.

I can't keep doing this. I need something. Something new. Anything. Why can't my life be like in those movies where the protagonist starts out as a highly mediocre, depressed chap grinding out a 9 to 5 and who is extremely unhappy, but then this life altering thing happens to him? Like say in Fight Club or Wanted? That would awesome. How come I'm never a "chosen one"? And invariably there will be some insanely hot chick somehow involved, and the protagonist gets to screw her. Granted that Angelina Jolie probably didn't want to screw James McAvoy, but like in Eragon the guy gets a hot Elven chick.

But no, that shit just never happens to me. Just once, I'd like to find a dragon egg. It's getting bad. No, its already bad. It's getting worse. You know you're in a sad state when the thing that used to save you no longer does. Weekends just don't do it anymore. Not that same shit all the time.

I need something. Some direction. Some guidance. Anything. From anywhere. From up above. From down below. From fucking anywhere. Just save me from this... rut that I've created for myself. And the worst part is, I know I really can't complain. I've got it good. And that just makes it suck even more. I don't know what's missing or how to get it. I'm a ship without sails.

And fucking Valentines Day is here again. What a day for me to write this post. One year. I thought I hated this day before. God, and I have to go to gym tomorrow. Lame. I'm so bored of that. And what has it ever got me? Now I can't fit in that nice Homer shirt I bought myself.

It's the death of another weekend. And I fear it may be the death of the idea of the weekend. And that is thought that scares and depresses me all the more. And it's just February.

Fuckin' hell.

Sunburnt

God damn, its the new year, and this is my first blog. What the hell happened to January? It all went by in a blur, and admittedly, I didn't accomplish anything noteworthy in that time, so there's no excuse for my prolonged absence.

Well there's still shit to talk about from December and I'm going to get right to the point: Sunburn. One of the biggest music festivals in the world. DJs from all corners of the earth converge at Candolim beach in Goa and the party is on for three whole days. People from all over the world come to Goa for this event. It's beautiful. If you think this blog is actually about Sunburn, however, you should probably navigate your browser elsewhere.

Now one of the things I like most about this festival is all the hot girls in bikinis. Like... oh... my... god. I'm not even kidding. Babes and bikinis.

And it's not even just the foreign girls. The Indian girls are hot. And I'm not saying that with surprise, obviously Indian girls are hot, but JFC, there were so many and they were so hot and awesome. Where the hell are all these girls once Sunburn is over?

A cheeky bastard in the back shouts: "They went back to north India!"


Hey, asshole! Fuck you.

But no, seriously, north Indian girls have it going on. That's not to say that I don't like girls from south India or for that matter other parts of India (or indeed, the world), I'm just saying I happened to see a lot of hot north Indian girls there. In bikinis. Looking bloody awesome. For the sake of brevity and also to not sound like a perv (which I'm not. No, really) I will leave the rest to your imagination. Especially this one girl that was there, who was short and perfectly proportioned and I just wanted to DIE...

Anyway, there were just so many of them. Are all of them taken? But of course. Which then brings me to the hordes of north Indian guys I saw.

Now I'm sure that the staggering majority of them are absolutely normal, good people. But what I can't stand is just the generic north Indian guy, which is pretty much all I saw there. Tall. Well built(ish). Fair. And good hair. All the same. Every one of them. So boring. What do girls see in them? Besides all the stuff I just mentioned? Pfftt...

What is with them? Why are they all so high on themselves? They think they can do whatever they want and they own everything. They have a lot of money and all drive around in Honda Citys or ride around on BMW bikes or whatever, and wear those tight fighting shirts and shades and gel up their hair. I reiterate: Pfftt...

Now I don't know what great hopes I had there. But it just so happened that I wound up next to this "couple", with this guy who had his arms around a girl. She seemed to be an NRI, and he was one of the above mentioned generic north Indians. It soon became apparent that they had just met. So unfair! God, does personality have no bearing in this world? Is it all about raw looks and power? And as they were bumping and grinding to the beats (hahaha, that phrase always cracks me up) and I watched on in :facepalm: mode, I could catch snippets of their conversation. Finally, in attempts to impress her further I guess, he said "Do you want me to speak in Hindi for you? I could speak in Hindi for you..." at which point I had to get the hell out of there and burst out laughing. That really made my day. What a retard. I can speak Hindi for you? Is that not just fucking lame? And its as if its such a romantic language or something! Sure, fine, he got the girl, which is the most important thing, but I will never forget that line.

Sunburn is always fucking crazy. Only this year there was no smoking/drugs at the venue. And also the host, Nikhil Chinapa, got drunk and made us all bored with his "Sunburn family" speech every three minutes. But the amalgam of people, from every corner of the world... so many beautiful faces. and a sea of hands before a beautiful laser lit stage... its fantastic in itself man. Totally worth the 5k I spent. Oh, and did I mention a lot of hot girls in their summer clothes were there?

Those who know Sean from Blackpool knew that he couldn't make it this year, because I met a lot of English people, and I couldn't blow my cover. So I was just Sean from Texas. Meh. But as a good friend pointed out to me after I related to him the above story, maybe next time I should just get drunk and pretend I'm from north India. Hmmm. Changing your accent can only do so much, it can't perform miracles.

Oh, and I'm not racist; I hate everyone equally.

A Lesson Learned

As I've said before, I'm very much the kid who has to touch the stove to find out its hot. I can't believe another year has gone by, but it has not been without its lessons. I can only hope some good comes of these lessons and I can move on to the next thing instead of them being an excercise in futility again. And I hope I actually learn from them, instead of commiting the same mistakes again and again, which I am wont to do. Like losing my debit card. Oh my god, when I did it the second time, I just wanted to...

Anyway, coming to the first lesson: Talk. The biggest problem in the world is people don't talk. A lot of problems could be resolved peacefully if people would just sit down, and calmly discuss, converse, and have dialogue. Of course, nothing will be solved if you keep quiet. So if you have some good, true, sincere, and genuine to say, then just say it. Who cares about what other people think. Who cares what happens next. Just say it. No good can come of it if you keep it inside. After all, life's short, and all those other cliches.

Be good to your family. Because they will love you for free. And love is not free. There might have been a time when it was free, or when you thought it was free, but it aint. And yup, family is really important for that. Because no matter how much of a fucking asshole you are, they'll still take you back. And that's something. So be good to them. Don't take them for granted. They, like everyone else, don't owe you a damn thing. Even then, they're there for you, even when no one else will be. And they expect nothing in return, in spite of all they do for you. So pay them back, with interest.

And finally, take responsibility for yourself. Everything you have or don't have in your life is all on you. Don't shift the blame. If you fucked something up, then own up to it. Try and fix it. Some people are lucky enough to get a second chance to do it over again, some ain't. Because sometimes you just can't go back to the way it was. Even if you've lost years. So if you broke something beyond repair, if you can't fix it no matter how hard you try, well then you best accept it and move the fuck on. Learn. Heed the lesson. And never fuck up like that again.

And that's it. This year is gone, and I can't believe it. I better look to the future now. No point looking back and wishing. Makes more sense to look forward and hope. I shall spend the rest of the year drinking and trying to forget everything. Maybe when I wake up next year, I'll feel like I have a clean slate. That sure would be nice.


My new year's resolution? Not to be an idiot. Or try, at least.

I have to search for the lyrics of Auld Lang Syne now. Happy new year people.