The sun sets across the sand
And I get together with my merry band
And play and dance and sing aloud
To form a larger, merrier crowd.
Aloud they cry and shout about
Without a strain of joyous doubt
Each and every note is true
Like wonder sky and golden hue
One voice more strong, deeper still
Emerged out of that merry hill
And the flame between too rose
Leaping tongues and tranquil prose
It played about on every face
A yellow shade and a merry place
And then the lips moved to make
A sound of quite heavenly uptake
Something that would stir the lore
And bring the Heavens weeping to the shore
Not quite joyous, not melancholy
It opened the petals, so gently...
The scent flowed out but remained still
Within that flower, on a lonely hill
And all round they spread the mirth
But we had enough to last the earth
And when they were done dancing around
I perched upon that higher ground
And looked again at my merry band
As the sun set across the sand!
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
The sun sets across the sand
Friday, July 22, 2005
Yes, Mirza's amazing run has come to an end against experienced Akiko Morigami. She lost 6/4 6/3. Read all results here.
Another interesting tit-bit - Manchester United's famous sign outside their Old Trafford stadium had a quite interesting story to tell two days before. Apparently someone messed with it to read a 'four lettered word'. How?, don't ask me! Full Story
scribbled by Abhishek on Friday, July 22, 2005
Thursday, July 21, 2005
After he ranted about cyclists roaming around France(when they could easily have caught the bus) and argued and hyped up England's chances for the Ashes, this time he takes a final deep breath of air via a friendly banter with 'Davo'.
First there is the usual 'import' player rant.
"Well yeah, that's another great move by the selectors - getting rid of your best player in Thorpe and bringing in a South African - what's that all about?
Well we've got no pride when it comes to pilfering other countries for international cricketers.
Well yes - Andrew Strauss, another South African, Geraint Jones - Papua New Guinea. And where's your captain from, India? Oh sorry, that was your last captain
And then more about his new found love for Giles.
"And what about those spinners?
Listen, Ashley Giles has managed to convert himself from an absolute no-hoper in to one of the most boring and effective bowlers in Test cricket. We're very proud of him.
He's learnt that he can only bowl on leg stump over the wicket and it'll be driving you lot mad. I can see Gilchrist losing his rag and taking a big swipe on the fourth day.
And then as usual he plays down England's talents and raises their chances.
"Well may the best team win - and I'm pretty sure that will be Australia.
Well I hope the best team doesn't win - so that'll be an England victory, then.
And if you want to read the whole thing - read it here
scribbled by Abhishek on Thursday, July 21, 2005
Saturday, July 16, 2005
The BBC reports Harry Potter's book launch in Delhi. And yes, the reporter is quite perplexed.
" The muzak
(music?) was strangely Eagles and hip hop as the children played a Quidditch game with small brooms and colour balls, participated in a crossword contest and did a magic jig.
In the best tradition of India's intensely political capital city, an uneasy, inarticulate politician had been curiously invited to be master of the ceremonies.
"I am a stranger to the world of creative arts," he mumbled. "But I hope Rowling keeps writing these books."
Read the full article here. Also read about India's representative. And yes people have already finished reading it and if you are not particularly a fan you can also read the .chapterwise synopsis(spoiler!)
scribbled by Abhishek on Saturday, July 16, 2005
Thursday, July 14, 2005
It wasn't what you'd call the ideal start. Agreed that more wasn't to be expected - but somehow there was a feeling of dryness in the mouth and confusion in brain. There was this mishmash of colourful, inebriated, heady dreams convoluted by the stark, dreary realities of the present. He thought about Monet's impressionist works - those must have been done in such a state he thought. A strong dose of colour, an inherent wonderful haziness of the future against the strict guidelines of the canvas and of the title to satisfy. He remembered someone saying, 'they take you to the top so that they can then push you down the deep ravine at the other end'. This seemed like the precipice. It was like climbing the Everest only to find that there's already a big party in progress. It felt very unjust, that the greatness of his achievements should be sucked away, not by some living mortal being upon whom he could shower his blame, but by innocent yet distinctly stark realities.
Meanwhile the winds blew, and they pushed the clouds towards the city, and being inherently laden with water they burst down upon the boggy earth. Up went an array of water protective devices. Most of them black, somewhat tattered umbrellas and some of them in quite lovely colours, all somewhat oscillating about their oscillating mean positions. It would be interesting to note that in a certain section of town where Monet and the Everest were being thought of at the same time, this concentration of umbrellas took the form of a somewhat curious centipede. It would not be curious to the reader anymore if it was stated that this particular concoction of mostly black and some coloured umbrellas belonged to the standees of a particular queue outside one of the city's most prestigious educational institutions. It would also be a good time to introduce the reader to the person in question - not that it would mean revealing his name, for that would be quite unnecessary, but to mark him as one of the many students of this particular institution. That he was a not-pudgy but certainly plump, extremely sharp-minded (not that it is an absolute term) and at the moment a quite frustrated young chap would be enough data to enable the reader to comprehend the forthcoming events.
An extremely curious word for such unorganized stacks of people is rather paradoxically called 'line' in certain parts of the region in question. The reason for the formation of this queue is not exactly clear and this seemed to be the case with most of the people in the queue too. The point is, that the whole scene is that of quite incessant rain into an already soggy ground, a whole mass of unorganized people clustered around a particular institution in the city. Now if you are a 'plump, extremely sharp-minded individual 'chances are that you have one of those afflictions which they rather wrongly call 'absent-mindedness'. So it was with him - and as a consequence he had forgotten to bring his umbrella.
It was then that he looked around. Now he wasn't the kind of person to particularly notice or give any special attention to the fairer sex. Not that he was not interested, but only too pre-occupied. It was after his discovery that he was going to get wet unless something was done that he noticed a most remarkable face standing behind him. Now in such an unorganized queue there isn't a distinct behind or an immediate predecessor, which you could single out, but this particular face was certainly one, which would be nearer his backside than his front. Seeing his quite pitiable state, she immediately stretched out her arms to offer him some protection. Now, this wasn't one of your the-guy-and-the-girl-under-the-umbrella kinds of situations. In fact far from the romantic connotations this arrangement was helping neither. His left shoulder and a part of his head and the same with her right shoulder were now getting quite damp as the heavens poured their hearts out.
It wasn't that he had never been with girls before. Nor was he nervous, uncomfortable or any of those other words you tends to use when two quite private teenagers are caught in such a situation. "A rather dodgy day, isn't it?" he remarked. "Yes, quite" she replied. Her voice didn't quite reach him, maybe due to the distance between them or more probably due to the general buzz of people talking in the air. It was at this precise moment accompanied by a loud thunder from the skies that they both squeezed in suddenly to assume that now discussed position. It was at this moment that suddenly the equation changed. Maybe the Controller up there modified some variables or the characters in question pressed the right keys. All that casual air was replaced by a palpable tension, not sexual but definitely attractive. Those innocent words could now suddenly be labeled by some observers as 'smalltalk' and the whole setting in general to be quite favourable for a development of events in the romantic direction.
He could suddenly smell and even see the fragrance rising off her exposed neck and invigorating him via his nostrils. He could suddenly see a drop of water sliding off her arm into the puddle formed beneath them and feel her bodily heat sending his senses in to quite a tizzy. Suddenly not only her words but also her heartbeat could be heard and all the frustration, all the pain, all the antagonism he had suffered continued to pale in front of the deep blue eyes into which he was staring. It was, as said before, the turning-on of the right switches to make the whole matter quite romantic. After about what seemed to him to be quite an eternity, but to the watch he was wearing 10 minutes, the rain started subsiding and the air began to clear. Slowly the umbrellas receded to their compressed selves and the umbrella above his head too was removed. He however was now talking to the girl about her artistic inclinations and he felt sure that by the time he reached the window, she would probably be inviting him for a coffee. The long queue suddenly seemed blessed and the wholly malfunctioning systems seemed quite godsent. The rain had stopped, the air had cleared and the girl was talking. What more could a guy want!
"All girls please form a separate line at window no.3" the office clerk shouted. It seemed that not only had the party taken place, but it was he who had to clean the dishes.
scribbled by Abhishek on Thursday, July 14, 2005
Friday, July 08, 2005
Finally the man makes it clear. Today in a TV interview RGV said that he was definitely going to remake Sholay and even went to the extent of inviting Ramesh Sippy to the 'floor' to give a green signal to this much anticipated project. RGV made it clear that unlike Sarkar which was 'a tribute' to Godfather and largely adapted, not following the original script 'Ramu ke Sholay' as the interviewer preferred to call the film was going to follow the story almost exactly. In fact 'exact' is the word RGV used himself to describe the new Sholay.
He said however that though the story of a family getting murdered and hiring 'assassins' to take revenge would be the same, it would be set in modern day Bombay amongst the underworld. These situations would then lead to the original Sholay story. The dialogue, the clothes and environments would be adapted but the story would remain the same is what he essentially meant.
So expect another underworld film on the lines of Company, I think expect a similar look to the Satya, D and the like. However what RGV does to emulate the spectacular success of the music of Sholay remains to be seen. Delivering song hits is not exactly his forté.
Another interesting thing to watch out for in the coming weeks would be the casting. The effervescent duo of Jay-Vijay would need some living up to from today's generation of actors. Does Ramu delve into his bag of 'favourite' actors, does he rope in some big names or does he pull out another fresh face? Personally I think he will stick to established actors and expect someone from the Ajay Devgan, Abhishek Bachchan, Vivek Oberoi maybe even new-kid-on-the-block Randeep Hooda to fit the bill.
However when asked if the BigB was going to be a part of this epic venture RGV said, "Actually, we are currently working on the cast. It remains to be seen if Mr.Bachchan can fit into the plan of things. It would be a great experience working with such an amazing actor again. I would definitely love it if it works out." Ok, I am kidding. He said "No."
scribbled by Abhishek on Friday, July 08, 2005
Thursday, July 07, 2005
I don't know how many people here really follow The Tour, but I am a great fan. Ever since Ten Sports started showing it live I have been hooked because as with Formula 1, this is as much a race of tactics, experience, teamwork as of raw talent. I know that the people on top in most sports also put in that amount of hard work, dedication etc. but nowhere is it as evident as on the Tour.
Case in point is the ever-faithful George Hincape. He is the only person who has stayed with Armstrong on each of his 6 triumphs, first with the US Postal team and then with Team Discovery Channel. As most people know the race is won in the mountains. Mainly after stage 11 and the level 3 and 4 ascents of the Pyrenees is what separates the wheat from the chaff. But on all such stages as yesterday's and today's which saw dangerous, possibly fatal pile ups at the dangerous turn in the end are lose-lose situations for all the top runners. The only people looking forward to race on the relatively flat pieces of road are the specialist sprinters like Boonen, McEwen and Stuart O'Grady. For the title contenders like Armstrong, Basso, Ulrich etc. the most they can hope is to finish with the peleton and ensure safe passage to the next day. Where a person can win is in the time trials, like how Armstrong pulled out a large gap to his main rivals in just 20 minutes of riding on the first day compared to no significant mileage gained in the ensuing 5 day-long stages.
However what these stages do test is the ability of a team to hold together, protect its main man and warm up the legs for the big climbs in the mountains. Racing jostling for positions among 150 riders at 50 km/hr on extremely thing tyres and on narrow bending lanes is as dangerous as racing in the tried and tested cockpits of F1 cars. I think more men have died in the last few years in cycling than in motor racing.
It will be exciting to see how the race pans out in the next few days as to how Armstrong will handle the steep ascents of the Pyrenees. He has not raced much this year (being in a Pete Sampras like state) and it needs to be seen if he can pip Kazak rider Alexander Vinokourov who I think will be his main rival to the maillot'jaune come 21st of July at the Champs Elysses.
Till then, au revoir!
Friday, July 01, 2005
Word got around as the winds rolled in,
That the Führer's man was coming to town,
Scanning the path and lording the way
The Führer's man was coming to town.
Like the mellowed sun setting apace,
Slowly, then faster, now surely gone down
The waters seeped and then flowed for sure
That the Führer's man was coming to town.
Clippety-clop you could have said,
But for the army's blaring horn
Deaf was a man who didn't hear it,
That the Führer's man was coming to town.
The children silent, their eyes speaking
As ever a pair of open eyes,
They knew that there lies a foreign face,
The Führer's man in an earthly guise.
Around the books, with the Rabbi,
They stood and waited for the storm,
Heaven and earth watched together,
The Führer's man at the barn.
Rat-a-tat rat-a-tat he knocked the door,
Then tore down the physical shore,
Huddled together was his prey
The Führer's man then completed his chore.
God flew about in bits and parts,
As he knifed along in the air,
The men bound and chained inside
And the Führer's man in the chair.
He sent along those little rats,
To their final heavenly treat,
Then smirking, contemplating
The Führer's man settled on his meat.
Another dot on the map,
Another morn the sun bore dowm
Another cry in the sweet air,
The Führer's man is coming to town.
Not often do we, discerning movie-watchers think in terms of box-office and collections and so forth. So I recently got hooked to this site called indiafm.com A place where you'll get all the latest info and also pretty good reveiews that cater to not only the junta but also to the large population dependant on movies for a living like exhibitors(read theatre owners), distributors etc. The only person who I think, delves into 'kya chaalta hai aur kya nahi' kind of stuff is probably George.
He would probably justify a particular song or a particular sequence to enhance the film's selling quotient.(read what i would call sleazy skin-show)Thinking if i were a director ;-) , would I do what the director has done at a particular point is a good line to take before reviewing a Hindi film. This is something that i will always keep in mind while reviewing something in the future. And while we are on the subject of reviews, check out Taran Adarsh's review of Sarkar.(Spoiler Warning!)