Be born, everyday.

In a world of pointless advertising, there are a select few that pluck a very resonant chord in you casually some day. The spoon goes slower to the mouth. The endless chatter on the phone is put on hold just to listen to it. The fight between two kids on who's monster truck is better suddenly stops. The paranoia on burning stuff on the burner vanishes for a few seconds for the ever-busy housewife. Time simply stops, and only the ad plays.

A similar one showed up a couple of weeks ago. I was doing none of the above. Was bored actually. Sitting around with the Economic Times in hand pretending to be too interested in the business world had taken its toll. Aamir Khan in a knight's make-up drew my attention. Yes you guessed it, Titan - be born everyday.

Kabhi kisi anjaan station par utar kar dekho

Kabhi kisi gumnaam sheher ka ticket katao

Doosron ki galtiyon se kya seekhna .. make your own mistakes yaar

Never resemble your passport photo for more than three months

Har subah shock your reflection

Explore

Bachpan mein to kya kuchh nahi banna chahte the

Why not today?

Be born, everyday.

Need I say more? :)

Raat ke dhai baje [in Hindi]

Raat ke dhai baje koi packing kare,
Kapdon ka bazaar laga, sab charpai par pade ..

Dukhi dukhe dukhe se, mare pade hain hum,
Aankhein doobi doobi se, sona sona chahe hum,
Dayan ne kaisi durgat ki hai, pehli baar galti ki hai,
Aji aakhri baar galti ki hai,
Arey pehli baar galti ki hai, aakhri baar galti ki hai,
Khoon ki aakhri boond tak le li, kameeni kaisi harqat ki hai,
Aji pehli baar galti ki hai, aakhri baar galti ki hai ..

Nafrat mein jalte hue, uski zabaan tezaabi lage,
Jaan chhodti hi nai, koi to use beemari lage,
Nafrat mein jalte hue, uski zabaan tezaabi lage,
Zabaan tezaabi lage, nafrat mein jalte hue,
Hoo chipke chipke baal hain, badboo wale gande,
Chupde chupde baalon mein junon ke ande,
Tanhai mein fursat di hai,
Arey pehli baar galti ki hai,
Aakhri baar galti ki hai ..

Raat aisa haal hua, jaisa hota to nahi,
Jagaa kar rakha mujhe, main bhi sota to nahi,
Ek suitcase band karne mein saari raat guzaari hai,
Gande kapdon ki gathri, sar par le li tune kaisi pareshani di hai,
Arey pehli baar galti ki hai, aakhri baar galti ki hai ..

Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?

The first time I logged on to the Prithvi theatre website, I was in for a shock having missed out on "Waiting for Godot" by a day! It was one play I had been waiting for ages, with a star cast comprising Naseeruddin Shah, Ranvir Shourie and Benjamin Gilani. It might sound melodramatic if I relate how heartbroken I was but the truth is that it pinched a lot to have missed for laziness to check the site. While browsing through the other plays on, one caught my eye instantly, "Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf" - whoever writes such a play ?!

I read on. Scratch my chin.

Now since none of my readers have been to Prithvi, here's a fact. Plays staged on Tuesdays and Wednesday are usually for Rs. 80 while the others require you to shell out your weekly allowance of 200 bucks! So even though the story seemed interesting, the prospect of it being on a Wednesday seemed somewhat dicey. Would it be worth the time I'd give to it? I was desperate for quality entertainment.

The day I left for the show, probably the only glitch was not going alone. I should have gone to watch it on my own. Well that isn't the focus of this post. So lets leave it at that. We reached Prithvi, entered the theatre, phone in hand as I kept arguing with my colleagues on their incompetence and my boss for holding me accountable for nincompoops! Once all issues got settled, we cozied into the side aisle seats, as three fat bums squeezed their way into the corner pushing us further into the corner. Built like an amphitheatre, closed of course, with a huge floorspace for the actors, Prithvi's ambiance on the inside makes you fall in dramatics all over again. It is something to be experienced, not described.

Enter Aman Uppal (George), wearing a suit, with a sweater vest inside and shabby greying hair. Honestly, his opening was very weak, words muffled, back facing the audience, didn't make that strong entry that we have come to expect of stage actors. Tahira Nath (Martha) follows him on stage, dressed in shimmering black, drunk, hair flayed all over, crystal clear voice, enunciating every profanity she uttered, reverberating the entire theatre with her shrieks and outcries for "George, fix me a fucking drink!". The opening melancholy of the situation between the couple draws you in from the first instance, those relaxed into the cushioned seats pull forward resting their elbows on their knees, and chin resting on the palm of their hands.

The psyche, the tension and ambiguity of their relationship fills the room with an eerie silence, everyone hushed, not a whisper except for the occasional murmur. If the complexities hadn't boggled the audience enough, the entry of the young couple of Ali Fazal (Nick) dressed in a smart brown jacket and corduroy trousers, and Mrunmayee Lagoo (Honey) in a tight dress added fervour to the scene. Contrast the explicit mockery between Martha and George to the newly-wed excitement of Nick and Honey. As events take an ugly turn and the plot deviates into an out of control drinking brawl between Martha and George where he beats her up, and a near on-stage blow job given by Martha to Nick, the complications and inherent multi-dimensionality to any relationship comes to the fore. Martha and George find refuge in each other's hatred to keep the relationship going while Nick and Honey see clearly through the mirage of their relationship and come to the fore with their suppressed aggression.

A breath-taking performance that keeps you at the edge of your seats for a continuous two hours. Gripping deliveries. Hair-raising performance. Bewildering monologues. Everything about the play oozed a sense of being involved in something you never experienced in life or ever thought of. Prithvi's become a regular haunting place for me, not just for theatre but also the kadak cutting chai on offer. A must visit to anyone coming to Bombay ! :)

Sale: "a dead conscience" for Rs.136

"There he goes again with another one of his sermons" - no need to worry, the word "conscience" need not always be related to me walking in black overalls with the Holy Bible in my hand and preaching to misled souls! ;)

What happened on Friday evening was a continuation of the love between me and the Western Railways. We share a bond now. They issue the fine, I pay it!

Taking the foot over bridge from Bandra(E) to Bandra(W) had been a regular routine for me to gain easy access to Carter Road, Linking Road, Hill Road, Pali Hill and what not! Why would Friday evening be any different? Saves me the trouble of having to plead with a rickshaw driver that its worth the trip to take a complete round around Mahim to get to the western side. Earphones in my ears, fox-trotting to one of my favourite tunes *ok relax 'bout the fox-trot, I do it now, but that ain't the point being discussed here, so focus*. As I walked casually out towards the exit, a tummy bulging, blading, mustachioed man dressed in a black coat and stained white trousers asked me for a ticket. Of course I won't have a ticket, I came from home, just to cross over to the other side!

Now those who know of my travails, a similar situation had shown up its ugly head in Pune as well. That same bad churn arose in my stomach again, and this time I didn't even bother to ask. I asked the bloke "It says 'only bonafide passengers allowed' on a dingy white board just above my head, which nobody wouldn't even care to look at, doesn't it?'. He smiled and took out that dreadful receipt book. There we go again - Rs. 256 again. No matter how much I pleaded with him, he was not ready to listen. He had a point. He asked me where he was wrong. I can't plead on humanitarian grounds now could I, he was taking the clinical technicality high road wasn't he. I needed a haircut. Had to spare myself some money. Couldn't have gone back home and have only a "fine paid" to show for the evening's outing. "Thoda mandvali nahi ho sakta?" is what I blurted out. He smirked. "How much you got?" It felt like negotiating for smack or hashish as he pulled me aside, in a hushed voice asking for Rs. 200. We agreed upon Rs. 120, as I reluctantly handed over the money to him. 200 would have been me having to sit down along with the beggars lines up on the platform to get a rickshaw back home! Did I have a choice? *I know that's a dicey question, refrain from answering it or judging me!*

I was pissed off with my luck. Shouldn't I have been? How many times have been people been fined for the same thing, TWICE?!

Walking down the road for another 2 minutes, it struck me. What in the devil's sweet name did I just do?! At this point I could tangent off into patronising you about scruples, but am going to refrain from doing so, not because am considerate, but more so since its easy to preach in hindsight, the feeling at that moment is what makes you swallow an elephant and probably feel your heart plummet to the deepest abyss of the stomach. I got frantic. I had to get to an ATM machine. Eureka, found one - Axis Bank! Now what I need is change. Voila, a Dairy Milk and 8 Mentos, that would get me Rs. 36 bucks in change for a 50er. I ran back to the station.

It took some searching but I got hold of the bloke. Patted him on the shoulder as he turned around and had a look of surprise on his face wondering what I could want after he so "affectionately" told me before - "beta next time dhyaan rakhna abhi main aapko chhod raha hun for Rs. 120, because I understand your situation", as he pocketed the 120 bucks. Understand my situation - BALLS !! You just ripped me off for Rs. 120!! After the initial moment of awkwardness for him, he let out a puzzled "yes?". Now I must confess, what I was about to do was something I had never done before. Don't worry I did not make him bleed! ;) I opened his palm and put in Rs. 136, and asked him to give me a receipt. Beyond that time, it is best if I give the actual conversation verbatim.

Me: Yeh lo, bakaya136 rupaya.

Him: Arre aapko chhod diya maine, main samajhta hun.

Me: Main bhi samajhta hun, chalo parchi kaato.

Him: Arre bhaisaab kyun apna aur mera nuksaan kar rahe ho, 120 mein apna mandvali ho gaya na!

Me: Mujhe nahi karne ka hai, parchi kaato.

Him: Arre khali khoti dimaag na kharab karo mera, jao yahan se.

Me: Tu parchi kaat, mujhe fine dena hai.

Him: Bade hi ajeeb insaan ho. Mujhe nahi kaatni.

Me: I-card dikha apna, mujhe check karna hai tu valid checker hai.

Him: *haughtily* Yeh le!

At this point I noted down his employee number and name into my cellphone, as he started yelling for his card to be given to him. He threatened me about the police, I asked him to bring it on. He freaked out, signed a receipt for Rs. 256 and shoved it into my hand. Profanities were yelled back n forth but am going to spare you the trouble for want of public forum decorum. While leaving, I handed him an address, for the Anti-Corruption Bureau Bombay, and told him he'd be hearing from them soon! ;)

I walked away.

I know some of you might be shaking your head calling it a dumb act of losing more money. Some might not agree on the way I handled things. Hell even I don't agree I executed things perfectly, let alone describe them properly. But I do know one thing for sure, I know that I smiled at myself in the mirror the next morning rather than lowering my eyebrows for being a hypocrite. It might seem corny, but that feeling of doing what you think is right, no matter what others might think is what brings a smile rather than the sinking feeling of being untrue to who you are.

I slept well that night.