Happy Birthday Bal Gopal

Cute, aren't they? (Pic courtesy: HT)

Just yesterday I was discussing with my colleague how while I was on my way to work I saw these tiny tots dressed as Bal Gopal (complete with peacock feathered headgear and flute in hand) on their way to school, looking totally lost but oh-so-bite-ably adorable :) Then I was also boasting to her about how Janmashtami is celebrated like this and like that (I often take on the role of a knowledgeable local before the self confessed 'touristy' colleague since she's only moved to the city a few months ago). In my head I imagined those awesome aerial shots or pics of an entire human pyramid coming crashing down, taken by some very good photographers and published on the front page of newspapers without a doubt the next morning, and smiled.

This morning, a friend complained about all roads to his house being blocked by the Gopalkala groups. In turn, I sighed that in my area it barely felt as though it was a festive day. Another ex-colleague tweeted some sarcastic words abt being stuck in traffic before wishing everyone a Happy Janmashtami and I smiled, knowingly, but refused to stop romanticising.

Eventually I stepped out of home to head to work. There was no rickshaw in sight (Chhuti hai, itte asani se thodi hi milega rick) so I decided to walk towards the main road, earphones stuck in place, first song on the playlist blaring. Perhaps that's why I did not notice the rickshaw that came dangerously close, almost about to ram into me, as it's inhabitants hooted away to glory. One among the boys was practically swaying outside the rick, a cheap beer bottle in hand, making lewd gestures. In that one moment, all that built-up romanticism turned into disgust. But that rick fled, looking for other hapless victims, who might have dared to step out of home.

It's truly sad that our festivals have become an excuse for hooliganism and goondagardi. Sorry Bal Gopal, you might have respected the women in your life but those celebrating your birthday just can't. Pity.

As long as there are dreams, there is hope of a better reality...

जेबों में हम रातें लिए घूमा करें...

Isn't it something that for an industry that boasts of qualified engineers, doctors and architects making it big as singers, actors and music composers, it has taken a movie like Udaan so long to make it to theatres. The story of Rohan Singh, the protagonist of the film, is a story that plays out in practically every family in the country (although not in such a gruesome manner). Don't we all know enough friends who grudgingly went to their technical colleges and not a fashion designing or music or art institute?

Luckily, I was spared the ordeal - probably because my more studious elder sister had taken up the family tradition and followed in papa's footsteps to become an engineer in a godforsaken college in a town better known for its ganesh idols than its engineering college; or because I had made it expressly clear, after seeing my sister study all the time, that 'studying' was not my deal (even so, mum insisted I take up Economics as one of my BA subjects and was a little disappointed when I announced that I'd major in Eng Lit); and finally, perhaps, because my younger brother too took up engg in a college full of sadistic profs (the highlight of my brother's college years, for me, was that he'd wear a tee shirt that said 'I'm bad with names. Can I call you a Jerk?' to college so often :)). That Engg Drawing lecture that plays in the background in one of the scenes of the movie is something my sis and bro will definitely smile about (you will know what hating something from the bottom of one's heart really means when they talk of this subject!)

To me, Udaan, more than Inception, is about dreams... because I connect to the dream that Rohan has. His story is the story of our generation. A generation that has spent evening after evening fighting with folks, sometimes even extended family, trying to assert our opinion. Ours is a generation that has finally managed to break the shackles of the doctor-engineer trap (we still sport the bruises though). I belong to the generation that's so much more sure of itself, one that has managed to make the bizarre-est of professions sound like a cool option. And lord knows its not been easy... Even when folks would agree to let us pursue the dream, there would be one condition - 'complete your education first.' It was a reasonable demand and most of us accepted it. Every one of us has a personal rebellion story - it wasn't easy breaking mom and dad's heart..but it wasn't easy living a choked life too, hai na?

That's where Udaan touches a chord. At the end when Rohan and Arjun set out on their own, we don't know what will happen to them. But we hope for the best. After all, things turned out pretty decent for us, na :)

Rider: Please note, Di insists she wasn't following 'family tradition' and pursuing engineering wasn't as bad as I make it sound.

I know what my Mom's gonna say on my birthday...

The moment the cake is brought out and set on the centre table, and I'm all set to chop through it so that the eager kid cousin can go ahead and skip lunch, much to his mom's angst, someone will bring up the question: 'So how old are you today?' presumptuously to make sure they don't mess up the ensuing Happy Birthday song. And after the quick mental math (2010-1982 = 28) the age will be declared amidst surprised oooohs and aaaahs (I refuse to believe that those who do let out those ooohs and aaahs do so genuinely... of course you know how old I am... you guys were around when I was born, weren't you???) And then Mommy-dearest will say: Tu kitti badi ho gayi hai! (hahahahaha...she says that every, single year and it has nothing to do with the increasing complaints of the weighing machine (but I think I've started paying more attention only after I turned 25, do not ask why...I know not myself)).

For once, I guess I'll be (semi) agreeing with Mom . At least two more people have recently said things indicating a similar meaning. A former colleague mentioned how my GTalk status message -- reminder to self: being enthusiastic about work ALWAYS misfires!-- which more or less always is a clear indicator of the current state of mind, is "sooooooo true." She also added that I'm "soooooo cute" ... I'd be a blatant liar if I didn't agree :P. Anyway, the fact that a respected former colleague thinks that I've finally figured out a basic rule of making it through as a journalist is quite a compliment! I'd like to take it as an indication of the Main kitti badi ho gayi hoon phenomenon :)

And then yesterday, after several frustrating minutes spent trying to make a story, that was increasingly turning supremely superficial (despite my best efforts, I swear), acquire some sense of scrupulousness, while trying to maintain my cool (believe me I congratulated myself on making it without loosing it inappropriately), another much-respected mentor said "you've grown up" (No, he does not make fun of my weight either :P). That was pretty direct, much like Mom.

So, two days before my birthday (which might yet again be spent at a friend's wedding, twice in a row that is now!) I've good reason to believe that I'm not gonna make a very bad 28-year old.

PS: The above-mentioned guys, of course, have no clue about my secret fantasy of turning into a Rockstar and sharing stage with Steve Tyler singing Craaaaaaaaaaaazy!!!