Where were you
When everything was falling apart?
All my days
Were spent by the telephone
That never rang
And all I needed was a call
That never came
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The White Tiger - My take
A lowly villager called Balram Halwai rises in the ranks when he becomes a chauffeur in an affluent family in the big city of Delhi. Nothing that goes on around him -- be it politics or family feuds -- escapes his eye, even as he feigns to be a meek servant. As the novel progresses, the homicidal chauffeur makes his own destiny, and becomes an entrepreneur.
The White Tiger tells the story of a side of India that we are all aware of, but we choose not to acknowledge or dwell upon it. We ignore it and move ahead with our lives. But this masterpiece from Man Booker-prize (2008) Winner, Aravind Adiga forces you to pay attention and ponder.
The theme of the book is sarcastic and aggressive. It is written in a series of letters to a Chinese leader who is about to visit India. The protagonist, Balram Halwai, is your run-of-the-mill, average villager who aspires to work in a big city some day and make it big in life. It portrays a tale of two India’s – An India which is “shining”: where wealth is flaunted extraordinarily and an India in “darkness”: where hundreds are faced everyday with the question of where would there next meal come from? The White Tiger is a penetrating piece of social commentary, attuned to the inequalities that persist despite India’s new prosperity.
Balram describes himself as a “half-baked” Indian, who worships uncountable number of gods and is proud of the way he “struggles” to become a successful entrepreneur. He works in a tea-shop where he comes to terms with how the world treats the poor. He is hired as chauffeur by a rich, affluent family. His three masters treat him disdainfully, yet he respects them for they are his employers. He observes how his master bribes the politicians, how he commands respect from all his minions and how everyone in this country dances to the tune of money. Balram decides to slay his master and runs off to a far-away city, Bangalore, where he becomes an entrepreneur. Balram justifies his employer’s murder as an act of class warfare. There is much talk in this novel of revolution and insurrection.
Adiga’s message isn’t subtle or novel, but Balram’s appealingly sardonic voice and acute observations of the social order are both winning and unsettling.
Balram’s violent bid for freedom is shocking. What, we’re left to ask, does it make him -- just another thug in India’s urban jungle or a revolutionary and idealist? It’s a sign of this book’s quality, as well as of its moral seriousness, that it keeps you guessing to the final page and beyond.
The White Tiger tells the story of a side of India that we are all aware of, but we choose not to acknowledge or dwell upon it. We ignore it and move ahead with our lives. But this masterpiece from Man Booker-prize (2008) Winner, Aravind Adiga forces you to pay attention and ponder.
The theme of the book is sarcastic and aggressive. It is written in a series of letters to a Chinese leader who is about to visit India. The protagonist, Balram Halwai, is your run-of-the-mill, average villager who aspires to work in a big city some day and make it big in life. It portrays a tale of two India’s – An India which is “shining”: where wealth is flaunted extraordinarily and an India in “darkness”: where hundreds are faced everyday with the question of where would there next meal come from? The White Tiger is a penetrating piece of social commentary, attuned to the inequalities that persist despite India’s new prosperity.
Balram describes himself as a “half-baked” Indian, who worships uncountable number of gods and is proud of the way he “struggles” to become a successful entrepreneur. He works in a tea-shop where he comes to terms with how the world treats the poor. He is hired as chauffeur by a rich, affluent family. His three masters treat him disdainfully, yet he respects them for they are his employers. He observes how his master bribes the politicians, how he commands respect from all his minions and how everyone in this country dances to the tune of money. Balram decides to slay his master and runs off to a far-away city, Bangalore, where he becomes an entrepreneur. Balram justifies his employer’s murder as an act of class warfare. There is much talk in this novel of revolution and insurrection.
Adiga’s message isn’t subtle or novel, but Balram’s appealingly sardonic voice and acute observations of the social order are both winning and unsettling.
Balram’s violent bid for freedom is shocking. What, we’re left to ask, does it make him -- just another thug in India’s urban jungle or a revolutionary and idealist? It’s a sign of this book’s quality, as well as of its moral seriousness, that it keeps you guessing to the final page and beyond.
Show me how to live..
Living in the past never helps.. but it sure is comforting when your present is not what you wanted it to be..
But at the end of it all, life teaches you, that it is meant to be lived in the present.. the essence of life is realized when you go with the flow.. not clinging on to a past memory..
So how difficult is it? To forget and move on.. to let things pan out on themselves? Do what you have in hand, bond with those around you, and build new friendships, new relationships.
You would like to believe what you had was all you wanted from life, and in the process, this veil of past never allows you to cherish and appreciate what you have ahead of you.
At the end of it all, life comes a full circle, your present becomes your past.. and this vicious circle of living in the past never ends..
Reminds me of the Audioslave song.. Show me how to live!
But at the end of it all, life teaches you, that it is meant to be lived in the present.. the essence of life is realized when you go with the flow.. not clinging on to a past memory..
So how difficult is it? To forget and move on.. to let things pan out on themselves? Do what you have in hand, bond with those around you, and build new friendships, new relationships.
You would like to believe what you had was all you wanted from life, and in the process, this veil of past never allows you to cherish and appreciate what you have ahead of you.
At the end of it all, life comes a full circle, your present becomes your past.. and this vicious circle of living in the past never ends..
Reminds me of the Audioslave song.. Show me how to live!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
"A DATE"
Ever since i was a little kid, and I used to see all the grown-ups going on dates, in restaurants, coffee shops, and places I don't want to confess I knew back in those days, I always used to wonder how it would be like when I would take someone out as my date.. i imagined how I would sweep her off her feet with my suave demeanor.. with my smile, n everything which I till date, can only imagine (:P), Anyways, so the point is that I, like any other kid of my age, had a fair impression of what my first date would be like.
And if you, even for a brief moment, thought that it did not go the way I had planned it to be, I'll have to disappoint you, cz it went very well, thank you very much. HOWEVER, it happens to be a close friend of mine who happened to be the unlucky protagonist in our little story.
After knowing the intricate details of the date, one day when we were laughing about it over a round of beer, this is how he best summed it up:
"buying a new shirt for the special day : Rs 1350/- , a bouquet of roses : Rs 200/- , Dinner at a swanky restaurant : Rs 700/- , Meeting with the girls mother JUST after dinner..... PRICELESS"
:D
(None of the characters are fictitious, and bear resemblance to persons living. No permission or consent was taken from the protagonist, so he will be equally surprised as any other soul who cares to visit this blog)
And if you, even for a brief moment, thought that it did not go the way I had planned it to be, I'll have to disappoint you, cz it went very well, thank you very much. HOWEVER, it happens to be a close friend of mine who happened to be the unlucky protagonist in our little story.
After knowing the intricate details of the date, one day when we were laughing about it over a round of beer, this is how he best summed it up:
"buying a new shirt for the special day : Rs 1350/- , a bouquet of roses : Rs 200/- , Dinner at a swanky restaurant : Rs 700/- , Meeting with the girls mother JUST after dinner..... PRICELESS"
:D
(None of the characters are fictitious, and bear resemblance to persons living. No permission or consent was taken from the protagonist, so he will be equally surprised as any other soul who cares to visit this blog)
Monday, August 3, 2009
a new,dull life
finaly it dawns on me dat we've grown up.. n grown apart.. there will not b ne mre nite outs.. no more 28.. no "mehfils".. no JCL.. no daru party.. no kaaku-mandir-mujhe kam mili.. no mess,cafe,tuk,apple cart.. finally its time we realize wat we had.. and wat will now never be..
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