Epiphany: (1) : usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2) : an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3) : an illuminating discovery (4) : a revealing scene or moment In the self referential film – Adaptation, Charlie Kaufman (of whom, I don’t think so highly, by the way) says: _…but what if a writer is attempting to create a story where nothing much happens, where people don’t change, they don’t have any epiphanies. They struggle and are frustrated and nothing is resolved. More a reflection of the real world… _ Some of these epiphanies dawn on to me, as I lead my life, various pieces of my mental jigsaw puzzle fall into place, and theories and events make sense. In the past, some have left me shocked, they have shown me my darker side. Some have flattered me. Some, I didn’t accept; reason told me they were true, but I just didn’t accept them. This “I” which is devoid of reason, this “I” is an interesting being. ...

Ramanand passed me the 55-word-limit-short-story baton and here is an attempt: —begin— Am a ten pointer. Doesn’t mean that it’s been easy. My neighbors (let’s call them ‘R’ and ‘P’ for now), cheap scorers, but so popular still; seen everywhere, unlike me (sigh). Me, gotta wait for you to complete me. Ah, there you are! come now, lets append ourselves to ‘art’ near that double word score. —-end—- My love affair with short stories began with Doordarshan’s Mitti Ke Rang, which used to adapt the best short stores from the likes of Chekhov, O’Henry, Maxim Gorky, Guy de Maupassant, etc. into 30 minute episodes. This was when I first heard that short stories were a different genre altogether. ...

In one of my favorite romantic films: Before Sunset, while on a cruise near the church of Notre Dame, Jesse talks about how he has this idea of his Best-Self, and he wanted to pursue that, even if it might have been overriding his Honest-Self. This is said in the context of his marriage, and how he married someone by thinking that commitment, appreciation, respect, and trust were all that mattered. This was his definition of love when he got married, and his Best-Self told him that if these were around, he need not really wait for the perfect person to come along, and his marriage would work out. The marriage went on to become a sham because his Honest-Self just didn’t love his wife, and his Honest-Self is what lived his real life and decided on happiness, bliss, and peace. ...

I love this book because: Its set almost entirely in Bombay. Salaam Bombay. It gives a very heart-felt view of India, Indians, and everything Indian. It reminds me a lot of Godfather (the book). It also reminded me of my first read of Godfather, which, sadly, happened only once. It also reminded me of Harold Robbins’s Never Love a Stranger. There is something about the first person narrative that Nabokov abuses in Lolita to trick the reader, but Roberts uses with elan. I have rarely liked a first person narrative more than this. I love sweeping sagas. I loved the trivia: on knife fighting, on the Automatic Kalashnikov assault rifles, the inner workings of the Bombay Underworld, the Afghan War, Colaba, gritty slum life in Bombay, and a whole lot more. The terrific one liners. There are so many of them, a few brilliant, a few corny, and a few unbelievably true. Made me introspect on aspects of my life which I had buried for a long time. Brought tears to my eyes more than once. Is a gripping page-turner. 900+ pages in 3 days?!? Celebrates the human spirit. The romantic in me is happy and content; the cynic in me smiling. Shantaram will be one of my favorite books for a long time to come. ...

People keep telling me how good things will happen to India if we stop complaining and start doing things. I agree. No amount of armchair philosophy and acerbic cribbing can beat direct action on the ground (italics inspired from The Direct Action Day). NGO’s are doing their bit. Examples like Barefoot College, which do transform lives en masse are inspiring. But the question which bothers me is how viable it is as a career alternative? Can I work full-time for an NGO and sustain a normal family on that income? I doubt that. This has a two fold impact. Either people do it part time, while debugging Java code for their day jobs; or highly inspired people take it up no matter what, and don’t bother about better living conditions for themselves or their families. Why is working for a good cause not a viable career option? Why does primary school teaching pay so less? Why is the media coverage for these causes so restricted. ...

My striving for abstractness and ambiguity is all gone and the real context emerges. Next time, I will write in even more cryptic tongue using only pronouns and articles. With that said – now for the real discussion. 1 – Why do we assume that the British were any better than Chengiz Khan or Muhammaad Ghazni? They did build railways, educational institutions, and postal departments – but we need to investigate why they did it? Was it to help us? Beeeep!! Wrong answer. ...

It’s been a long time since they left us. It’s been somewhat long since we allowed them to send stuff back to us again. Now, we are also doing things for them at half price. We love their football, we love their movies, we love their currency, we love their literature, some of us even try to speak like them, notwithstanding that we are already speaking their language. It hurts. ...

It rained in Mumbai yesterday like it has never rained in India before, with 37 inches of rain, thereby beating the high-school trivia of Cheerapunji, which had some 30 inches of rain in 1910. It poured, oh-my-freaking-heavens, it poured. I was mostly in my lab through the deluge, now and then flinching at the force with which rains lashed the huge glass walls of my department, which at worst saw some slippery corridors. The worst was elsewhere. ...

I am passionate. At this point, I tried looking up the meaning of the word “passion” in a dictionary, and much to my consternation, I couldn’t find a concise meaning that I could use here. So, I will just stick to my own interpretation of the word. I have been passionate about quite a few things (for the lack of a better term). Most of these passions have been purely academic; I have never acted on any of them. But a few of them, I charted my life around them; I followed them. A long time ago, I started acting on the management bug. I read books, followed people, perused biographies, idolized the likes of Iacocca and Welch, and was convinced that an MBA was all that was missing in my arsenal. But as time went on, this passion in management waned. I tried to analyze why this happened, and could come up only with two axiomatic reasons which couldn’t be questioned further: lack of intrinsic interest and no pleasure. Maybe those two are closely related, but thats a different thought altogether. ...

Jadav (Bhatt ko) – Pralaynath Gendaswami kaise dikhta hai? Bhatt – Kya?!?! Jadav – Kis desh se hai tu? Bhatt – Kya?!?! Jadav – “Kya” naam ka koyi desh maine to nahi suna? “Kya” mein Hindi bolte hai kya? Bhatt – Kya!! Jadav – Hindi maadarchod!! Hindi – Tu bolta hai kya use? Bhatt – Haan!! Jadav – Toh tu jaanta hai ki mein kya bol raha hoon Bhatt – Haan! Jadav – Bol ki kaise dikhta hai Pralaynath Gendaswami Bhatt – Kya?! Jadav – Ek aur bar “Kya” bol, Ek aur bar “Kya” bol – mein tujhe chunauti deta hoon, mein tujhe dugni chunauti deta hoon maadarchod. Ek aur baar “Kya” bol saala! Bhatt – Kaala hai! Jadav – Aur???? Bhatt – Takla hai… Jadav – Kutti ki tara dikhta hai kya? Bhatt – Kya?!?! Jadav Bhatt ko kandhon pe goli maarta hai… Jadav – Kutti ki tara dikhta hai kya? Bhatt – Nahin?!?! Jadav – Toh phir kutti ki tarah usko chodne ki koshish kyon ki tune? Bhatt – Nahin, maine nahi kiya Jadav – Haan tune kiya!!! Haan tune kiya!!! Bhatt, tune usko chodne ki koshish ki… Bhatt – Nahin.. Jadav – Pralaynath Gendaswami ko yeh pasand nahi ki Srimati Gendaswami ke siva use koyi chode……….Tu Gita ko padta hai kya Bhatt??? ...