May 21, 2012

The magic of words

There is this game I like to play with people who have read the novel. I ask them what does a certain character in the book look like?

It is amazing how almost everyone I asked this question described Bastard as tall, possibly dark, muscular/ rugged/ huge. Hari has been described as average looking, medium height, possibly with slight paunch. I am summing up here and there- for example, some people would have only said average/ okay looking for Hari while others would have said "not too tall not too short"- and I am adding up the comments.

The amazing thing is if you read the book carefully, I have described only and only one character's (Scooby's) physique (as tall and paper thin).

That, my friends, is how words conjure a character image.

That is the magic of words. :)

May 5, 2012

The survival of the mediocrest

In politics as in the corporate world, only the mediocre thrive. 

The sharpest people will move out disgruntled by the slow pace, the convoluted arm twisting required to push something down for the greater good, the backroom politics behind every puny little decision. The worst will, of course (most likely), be weeded out. 

But from the ashes shall rise the mediocre... the ones too afraid to take a call, the guys who play safe and yes-sir their bosses, who in every project will build a backdoor exit for themselves should it backfire. In places clogged with egos, testosterone and penis envies between the high & mighty, it is the mediocre who shall rise like creeps and vines clinging on to each and every word of their power drunk bosses, following without questioning- completely devoid of original ideas.

However mediocre people are good in the sense that they will do very little harm to the cause of your organization should you have a reasonably intelligent leadership (which you might not). The fact that they will do very little good is a sidenote of course.

And your company or your country is in serious peril if you do not have an intrinsic process to weed out/ rehabilitate the worst which in most cases doesn't exist.

Waiting for the rupee to touch Rs 60 to the dollar as our government- a veritable jungle of mediocrity- fusses and fumbles!

December 15, 2011

Cash on Delivery

It took six years for my grandparents to get a landline phone. Four years for my grand dad to get a TV. 

My mother tells me there used to be one car- a Fiat- in our neighborhood. And two TVs. There used to be this fascination with the television; the 2 houses with TVs got frequent visitors. After the four years of wait, when the TV finally arrived in our home- black and white mind you- my mom and her sisters used to sit around watching programming as insipid and vapid as Krishi Darshan- which was and still is basically a ‘How To’ TV show for farmers. For half an hour, just switch on Door Darshan for a change; it really hasn’t changed much.

On an average day, I worry about maybe sixteen things in total- on average at least two at one time. The Stock Market. My investments. Home Loan EMIs. My next stint. My current stint. My career. Where my life is going. My current novel. My future novel(s). Delhi traffic. How my illnesses seem to be getting more and more vicious.

I order a watch online and it reaches me in two days flat. Cash on delivery.

I wish I did not have a smartphone. No laptop. No watch. 

I wish I could watch Krishi Darshan on TV.

I wish the damn watch took six years to reach me.

I wish I had a landline phone and a black & white TV and a scooter and a house in a small forgotten sleepy neighborhood and I wish I was twenty years ago.

November 14, 2011

When anybody can write, anybody will write

The unfortunate truth is that today anybody can get published. That, of course, includes me.

I am now in the midst of hundreds (maybe thousands) of authors- most of whom do not even know the very basics of the English language. English is subverted, perverted, converted by people who, in my opinion, should- be made to stand in one straight line against a brick wall and shot to death- not allowed to write books and call themselves authors. To bend the rules, you have to learn them first, kids!

The sad part of all this is that people today ask me "So, yours is a 100 rupee book too?" Those ruddy 100 rupee books with "Love" in their titles and a picture of a couple kissing/ hugging/ fornicating on their covers with what passes as English today underneath. Smiling pictures of "authors" on the inside jacket, orgasming at the thought of their semi-autobiographical piece of semi-pornographic trash set at large for the whole world to tolerate.

 I am not one of those people who go through life reading books or listening to music just so that they can show off in front of others. I intrinsically understand beauty. I have not read Neruda or Dostoevsky; but I have read more books in my 25 years than most people will read in their lifetimes. But still, I do not speak from a position of authority; only from a position of mind numbing frustration.

You want to write to book?

Go home, kid. Learn some grammar first.

April 29, 2011

The Essence of Stupid

This is mostly for me. 

2010 has been the most dramatic year of my life. I found a job, found new friends, then enemies, had my location changed at the last minute to Bombay (I am not calling it Mumbai), found fun, joy, laughter- then anger, bitterness & re-found my sarcasm- something the novel had drained me of, for a few weeks.

I saw new sights, heard new sounds, sweated in Bombay’s (so called) “winter”, ate new foods, fell ill- sometimes seriously, learnt the true meaning of stress, politics; got smarter, sharper, came to understand things I hitherto had never deemed worth understanding; found my heart with hope and then had it bitterly crushed. 

I am amazed at how far I have come, how much I have changed. I still find it difficult to tolerate stupidity, but I am learning to laugh it off. I have realized that the only true friends you will ever have is your own family and then maybe one or two more if you’re lucky; the rest of the world is just mostly a Facebook Friend. I can cook Maggi, omelettes and other semi processed food- progress for someone who was mortally afraid of the stove. I feel wiser, quieter, calmer- yet my quips are sharper, my wit is more hard hitting; I am burning at both ends of the candle.

I am also more & more convinced of the futility of the human race. I meet and talk to several adults a day and I am constantly bored by their unidimensional thinking, put off by their malice coated in a thin layer of concern. I think good writers tend to be good readers of people and sadly this gift puts me at a loss. Every adult I meet is so… predictable, yes predictable is the word. As kids, I remember, we used to ask each other- what do you want to be when you grow up. I remember I once said “Alligator”. One of my male friends who is now a grown man had said “A pair of socks”; another “Traffic Signal”- all of them very seriously and with valid viable kiddy logic. I wish I was any of those things today than an adult human.

March 21, 2011

Why Bastard Exists

I am in love with Hugh Laurie (no sexual feelings). There might have been no book without him at all. For though Hari is the focal character who drives the book and represents my own anger, disenchantment and confusion during my MBA days, Bastard is the one character who made me enjoy writing the book. 

(For a background to this conversation, please read this http://www.vaibhavanand.com/2010/09/about-bastard.html)

Somehow writing the book was always a chore. Meenakshi was the worst- the most confusing character- whose tricks & dances frustrated me no end. I remember saying this to MG once- “Saalee ko maar hee dete hain.” She was bitching with the plot like hell.

Bastard was the one character I could completely relate to. While writing him, I always had that arrogant, self satisfied face of Hugh Laurie’s Dr. House in my head. Every scene, every dialogue, every sentence with Bastard in it scores (to me)- his bike entry, his vodka flask, his arrogant self satisfied awareness of the fact that he is two notches ahead of everyone in intelligence, his punch(es), his legend(s)… Hari is an everyman- a confused MBA that everyone today tends to be. Bastard transcends.

I had read Sherlock Holmes in entirety much before I saw House (Sherlock Holmes inspired the character of Dr. House). But Laurie was the reason Bastard came to exist and ultimately livened up the book. That cocky smile; those wicked twisted means… God I am so in love!

And if you ever thought Laurie was just a one dimensional actor, sample this- he has a wicked sense of humor in real life, he is a novelist and also a pianist. Below is a video of one of his hilarious performances.

March 3, 2011

Poet's Mind

In my mornings
as the sun breaks through my faint,
a tiny hand colors my world
with crayons and paint.

I don’t want to see
I want to be blind
I see the unseen
I have a poet’s mind.