Rock On… watched it, and liked it. Here’s the one line review:
In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri.
- Douglas Adams
:)
Not many movies have made me blog about them. At least none has made me blog immediately after watching them. This one is surely one of them. I’ve just returned from the theater… and I’m blogging.
“Jaane Tu … ya Jaane Na” is what I call a “made hit”. This is a movie, whose directors are aware of what are they trying to make … they know that the thing they are trying to make would be mind-bogglingly entertaining … and they successfully make what they are trying to make. 
It is a really beautiful movie.
And no, I refused to write a review, because its past midnight and I’m not Cinderella. 
… But I admit that now I’d very much like to ride a white horse on the streets of Mumbai…
Faiz Ahmed Faiz, is better known for his revolutionary fervor and socialist ideal. He can almost be considered the strongest amongst the socialistic revolutionary voices of Pakistan. This was not unusual for poets of his time. We had the likes of Nagarjun in India.
What is quite surprising about Faiz, or may be not, is that he has a wonderful, soft and romantic side too. We know that Faiz fell in love with and married a British woman named Alys. She is considered by many to have molded the personality and expression of Faiz. Talking about this soft side of Faiz, two gazals come to my mind, “Tum mere paas raho” (which I’ll surely post some day), and the one posted below. Its hard to say much about Faiz’s emotional state or situation in life at the time of writing, but he by far captured the awkwordness of certain situations as beautifully as anyone could. Enjoy!!
हम के ठहरे अजनबी कितनी मदारातों के बाद
अब बनेंगे आशना कितनी मुलाक़ातों के बाद
[मदारात == hospitality, expression of affection]
[आशना == lovers]
कब नज़र मे आएगी बेदाग सब्ज़े की बहार
खून के धब्बे धुलेंगे कितनी बरसातों के बाद
[बेदाग == clear, unadulterated]
[सब्ज़े की बहार == green and fresh season of spring]
दिल तो चाहा पर शिक़स्त-ए-दिल ने मोहलत हि न दी
कुछ गिले शिकवे भी कर लेते मुनाजातों के बाद
[शिक़स्त-ए-दिल == heart’s defeat (heart getting out of control because of extreme affection)]
[गिले शिकवे == cribs, complaints]
[मुनाजातों == affectionate prayers]
फ़िर बहुत बेदर्द लम्हे खत्म-ए-दर्द-ए-इश्क़ के
थीं बहुत बेमेहर सुबहें मेहरबाँ रातों के बाद
[खत्म-ए-दर्द-ए-इश्क़ == end of love’s pain]
[बेमेहर == ufriendly, unforgiving, not helpful, opposite of मेहरबाँ]
उनसे जो कहने गए थे फ़ैज़ जान सदक़ा किये
अनकही ही रह गई वह बात सब बातों के बाद
[जान सदक़ा किये == with letting life for sacrifice]
[अनकही == unsaid]
Two very different renditions of the gazal are available:
here. Video of one of the live shows is here.here. I couldn’t get you guys a free link. But this version is good too.Posting Ghalib after quite sometime today. It is a quite well known ghazal, and represents a state of mind which I relate to quite often. Especially after meeting a few people.
बाज़ीचा-ए-अतफ़ाल है दुनिया मेरे आगे,
होता है शब-ओ-रोज़ तमाशा मेरे आगे।
[बाज़ीचा-ए-अतफ़ाल == child’s play] [शब-ओ-रोज़ == day and night]
होता है निहाँ गर्द मे सहरा मेरे होते,
घिसता है ज़बीं ख़ाक पे दरिया मेरे आगे।
[निहाँ == indistinguishable] [गर्द == sand] [सहरा == the desert ] [The line means, that I seem to be living for so long that the sand of the desert is getting created in front of me]
[ज़बीं == forhead] [ख़ाक == soil] [Again, the line signifies that I seem to have been alive to see the river erode the soil in front of me]
मत पूछ कि क्या हाल है मेरा तेरे पीछे,
तू देख कि क्या रंग है तेरा मेरे आगे।
ईमाँ मुझे रोके है, जो खींचे है मुझे कुफ़्र,
क़ाबा मेरे पीछे है, क़लीसा मेरे आगे।
[ईमाँ == integrity, truthfulness, religion] [कुफ़्र == irreligiousness, lure of the material gains] [क़ाबा == kaaba] [क़लीसा == technically is a Church, but used here to signify place where कुफ़्र happens]
गो हाथ को ज़ुंबिश नही, आँखों मे तो दम है,
रहने दो अभी सागर-ओ-मीना मेरे आगे।
[ज़ुंबिश == motion, energy] [सागर-ओ-मीना == the glass of wine]
Many Indian and Pakistani singers have beautiful renditions of the gazal. One of the more famous ones is by Jagjit Singh from the serial Mirza Ghalib. Here’s the clip on youtube:
Ameer Minai, like Majaaz, was from Lucknow. There was surely something about the city, that made people romantic. I got the thought, while listening to one wonderful gazal by Ameer Minai, sung by Jagjit Singh. So here’s the gazal:
सरकती जाए है रुख़ से नक़ाब आहिस्ता आहिस्ता,
निकलता आ रहा है आफ़ताब आहिस्ता आहिस्ता।
[रुख़ == beloved’s face] [नक़ाब == veil] [आफ़ताब == sun]
जवाँ होने लगे जब वो तो हम से कर लिया परदा,
हया यक लख़्त आई और शबाब आहिस्ता आहिस्ता।
[हया == लज्जा, blush] [यक लख़्त == at once, suddenly] [शबाब == youth, beauty]
शब-ए-फ़ुरक़त का जागा हूँ, फ़रिश्तों अब तो सोने दो,
कभी फ़ुरसत मे कर लेना हिसाब आहिस्ता आहिस्ता।
[शब-ए-फ़ुरक़त == night of separation (from the beloved)]
सवाल-ए-वस्ल पर उनको उदूँ का ख़ौफ़ है इतना,
दबे होंटो से देते हैं जवाब आहिस्ता आहिस्ता।
[सवाल-ए-वस्ल == request to meet] [उदूँ == villian, competitor in love] [ख़ौफ़ == fear]
वो बेदर्दी से सिर काटे “अमीर” और मैं कहूँ उन से,
हुज़ूर आहिस्ता आहिस्ता, जनाब आहिस्ता आहिस्ता।
[बेदर्दी == ruthlessness]
And, you can listen to the gazal here.
Also, one of Jagjit Singh’s concert videos for the song can be found here.
Life, I say, is like, well, Vicks Vaporub.
Didn’t you expect nonsensical metaphors here? You haven’t read my earlier blogs then. Please do. 
Okay, so back to Vick Vaporub. You rub it on your chest, your neck, around your nose, may be if you mistook it for Zandu balm, then on your head. You do it when you are sick. It makes you feel better. And it makes you better by evaporating itself, when it leaves your skin.
Life is something that you rub on yourself superficially. Haven’t you heard people (especially brown-haired, satin-skinned, beaming-eyed woman) telling fat nerdy bearded geeks - “You’re sick, Get a Life!!”. So typically those geeks would try and get a life… by rubbing it superficially… they’ll go and swim, play a game of pool, or watch a movie, or chase girls, play guitar, sketch, paint, flirt, write, drink, drive, act, debate, code, design, orkut (v), discuss etc… Drinking following driving in the above line is purely incidental. (To be legally safe, the author does not take any responsibility for the urges emanating in the readers mind)
So yes, it seems they got some life rubbed on themselves. But they still feel sick. Because, life, like Vicks Vaporub, makes you feel better only when it leaves your superficial skin. When it evaporates.
But, why?
Because, it has to get in to you, to be able to treat you, to be able make you feel less sick. And it can get in you only when it evaporates, only when it enters your lungs through your nose. It opens up what is clogged inside. That something, which is preventing you from breathing freely. That something, which is making the head heavy. It enters you, settles down and you start breathing freely.
Life is also like that. There is nothing intrinsic about those get-a-life-actions that will give you a life. Let it be, putting some colors on a canvas, or some charcoal on paper, or letting the visuals of a movie reach your eyes, or letting your body float on a swimming pool, or writing poetry for a woman, or putting your leg hard on the accelerator while driving on an empty highway. There are no measurable units of life in any of those acts. They are just superficial rubbings. You have to let it evaporate, let it leave your body, and enter you on its own.
But you still have to start by rubbing it in, and have faith that it will get inside you on it self. And remember that it would not get in, if you don’t rub it, to start with. You have to make the effort and let it go, and have faith that it will enter you … relief will follow
Good punch line for the Procter and Gamble guys … right? “Relief will follow”
So, life, like Vick Vaporub, being volatile, will leave your skin and go onwards and upwards, and finally get inside you.
So, what’s the conclusion of the metaphor? It is not new. Somewhere in the planes of Haryana, some 5,110 years ago, a saarathi told a dhanurdhar - “Do your job well”
Take any random set of friends of mine, and ask them about me. They might give you varied responses. But you are almost are sure to get one response from all of them, that I have absolutely unbelievable capacity to speak utterly confusing but still somehow strangely coherent philosophical blabber.
For me, it is a pleasure to engage in a discussion, more so if it is getting more of a discourse where only I speak and the other guy listens. And I’m almost oblivious to the fact that the state of mind of the guy in front might be anything between blissful, perplexed, disgusted or I-would-kill-you-if-its-not-illegal.
But strangely so, this trait has been handy, very very handy. I met a couple of guys (absolute strangers) a few days back. They were sitting a few places from me in a restaurant, and seemed to be having an intense discussion about some very personal stuff. So much personal that, the decibel levels of their voice discussing that stuff in public, was enough to indicate that they were surely drunk. One of them had a beard and had pretty long hair; the other one was wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt. I had enough reasons to say a “hi”. And I did. And found out that one of them was an automobile engineer turned journalist turned PR guy, the other was a dropout geek attuned to rolling out code faster than speech. We struck a conversation, a conversation which lasted eight hours.
Not so strangely, I did like the guys. There was a sort of candidness in the talk, because there was nothing to lose, no hesitation in abusing the other, no thoughts of how the guy might feel, no chance of we meeting again. And that, actually changed the way I converse. I was actually listening to them.