Know news is good news!

Disclaimer : No journalist or media-person was harmed during the making of this blog post.

You wake up everyday. I’m sure you woke up today, too. Once you are done with that, you get started with your routine. And one of the commonest human rituals is to read newspaper or to switch on the TV for news. (Unless you are one of those lucky people who are illiterate but content with their mundane ignorance!) Now, if your day begins with news, what does it say about you as a person? You are curious? Yup, always been. Want to stay abreast of current affairs? Great!

But what exactly do you do with all that you read and learn and watch presented under the garb of news? Nothing, in most cases. Following news is just another evolutionary practice inculcated into our daily life for knowledge’s sake. There is not much one can do about a majority of stuff out there on the paper or screen. So why are we so fond of news, be it good or bad? Because we are an entertainment-loving species and news is gossip presented in a very refined manner. As elementary as that.

On a personal scale, I relish half-baked truths. I have them for breakfast daily. The French in me calls it biscuit. They call it news. To add to the misery, I read something or the other every morning which tells me I should quit reading them. But I never do. In fact, the recent events revolving around Rupert Murdoch made me realize that even some of the oldest media giant might go down for news. Meanwhile, I’ve got no doubt that the world would miraculously change for the better the day we stopped reading newspapers. But then, even if I switched to TV, I’d still be hopeless. After all, in India, the thin line separating TV news from TV soaps is almost invisible now. And this has been the case long before Arnab decided to put the media in comedian.

You see, there might be absolutely nothing out there to report but our media will beautifully turn it into news for gab-hungry masses. Anyone can create news out of thin air. If nothing else works, the media can report on the thinness of the air. [No, wait, the weather bureau is already doing that, aren’t they?] Moreover, watching news destroys a few of those newsworthy moments that could have been ours. Being the minions that we are, we’ll never know what is true and what is being reported as true. Unfortunately, rumours won't give up on news at any cost and vice versa. Fortunately, the spread of fire will never catch up with the spread of its news.

One lesson newspaper teaches us every single day – better not believe every crap you read. Times changes, perceptions changes and of course, news changes. Remember when they got Osama (at last) and how he got killed by breaking news? No one was allowed to see his face nor his dead body but we somehow managed to gulp the shoddy information of his demise. At that moment, the less you looked out for news, the more you’re convinced of the sheer wastage of time and energy.

And the hard part is when they collect too many viewpoints at once and make you look confused than a newborn dinosaur. Goes without saying, the plural of news is nuisance. As a part of social experiment, we should read last week's newspapers and ascertain its relevance in present day, if at all. Or not check news, at all.

You’ll never come across a channel which will go “We’ve got breaking news for you! Damn. We just broke it!” That’s the whole point. There’s hardly anything sacred about truth or news or journalism at large. I don’t mean to sound cynical but everything is commerce now-a-minutes. And the day each one of us is happy is the day news dies.

Putting the quit in mosquitoes

You know what sucks other than my blog? Mosquitoes. Humans may find it offensive but "You suck!" must be a compliment among mosquitoes. Yes, that’s common sense unless you are a mosquito who‘s reading this piece and feeling offended. Moreover, for a mosquito, human body is just another free bar.

For the record, I share a very bizarre relationship with mosquitoes. I admire them as well as hate them. It’d be fair to say that we are engaged in a die-unto-death battle. One of us has to give up to let the other survive. In my otherwise insipid life, I am guilty of massacring millions of these pests but it was always them who started the fight, not me. But I have to admit that every time I slay a mosquito, the loser in me receives a massive ego boost. The feeling that follows such act is beyond words (and sentences and paragraphs and blogs and universe and everything else!). Thankfully, it's easier to assassinate a well-fed mosquito than a famished one. Perhaps that is Mother Nature's way of making sure no one dies hungry.

It goes without saying that they effortlessly defeat the Gandhian in me because I’m usually a staunch pacifist, even to the point of wimpiness. But being a human, you’ve got to do what a mosquito wants you to do i.e. murder it. Despite all of this, we share a mutual respect for each other. But love is not in the air. Mosquitoes are. The trouble with mosquitoes is that they think they are smart. And the bigger trouble lies in the fact that they are INDEED smart.

For once, they are born with this innate ability to overlook human ugliness. We should be gracious to them for this kind consideration. No wonder they are pious beings. They are a god-fearing as they constantly hum their prayers. Killing them is like a double-edged sword. You are displeasing both Devil as well as God. To make matters worse, they are born musicians. Anyone can kill a mosquito but no one can take away its music. Besides, you only share your blood with them, not your wretched DNA.

I guess early human beings clapped to kill mosquitoes and then clapped more to celebrate their kill. That’s how clapping and mosquitoes got introduced to each other. On a personal level, I firmly adhere to the principle of not mulling those who don't belong to my house. And anyway, even the mosquitoes in my office are professional. They'll bite you only if you're idling around.

Like I mentioned before, mosquitoes possess some attributes unbeknownst to the rest of living beings. For instance, dignity. A bed bug will be prepared to get into your pants but a mosquito won’t ever stoop so low for food. They do face hard times like the rest of us but they’ll keep their proboscis stiff and stay out of fear. Well, for anecdote’s sake, I do remember a swarm of panicked mosquitoes once invading my room. I figured out then that nothing else scares the shit out of them the way rain does. Rain is like a wet ghost to them.

As I’m typing, I can’t help notice this time of the night when some fat mosquitoes get high on blood and crash into walls like drunkards do on street. It is also the period when you’re bound to be touched by their unparalleled love for your skin. You can’t deny that they love you even at their cost of their bloody life.

Appropriately, to set the mood right, I haven't killed a single mosquito tonight. Yeah, age and non-violence is catching up with me. Peace is temporary. Also, it’s a relief there ain’t any clapping limits on killing a mosquito. Or else, I wouldn’t have been the mighty mosquito warrior that I claim to be.

In closing, killing mosquito is a lot like playing Counter-Strike with your own blood and obviously I enjoy it but I won't be satisfied until I participate in the execution of that one last mosquito left on Earth.

A letter to my 16-year-old self

Dear Me@16,
This mail shall reach you in the worst of your lostness and stupidity. But it’s alright coz you won’t be THIS young EVER again. And one day, nine years down the line, you’ll wake up and see yourself writing a blog piece on how things could have been different. At that moment, you’ll be running short of words while being busy looking for better excuses.

I understand you’re not sure what you want to do with your life. No one is. You are not the first human to be blessed with such indecisiveness. All around you are confused but they just pretend as if they know your roadmap. All you have to do is make a choice and stick to it. As of now, you must be wondering whether to opt for Electronics or Arts. Trust me, go for Arts. You are way too dull for engineering math and way too good to have a *secured* future. It’s better to be an unsuccessful writer than a terrible engineer. No kidding.

Pay attention to what I’m saying as I reckon you don’t listen to anyone. After all, I know you better than anyone else. Most importantly, live. Being scared is not a neutral trait. Stop being shy, you dumbfcuk! Go talk to that girl you liked in school. Trust me, it’s worth a try. Spend more time with grandma. She’ll be gone very soon. Take good care of your health. Swim. Run. Cycle. Play football. Do everything that you love but won’t get you killed before you turn 35. Stay in touch with those few dear school friends whom you’re not going to meet on a daily basis anymore. Send a common Thank You Letter to all school teachers and mention what they mean to you. You are not as bad a poet as you think. Of course, you could be worse than that but don’t you dare give up. Keep scribbling. Learn to play guitar. But don’t sing. Some voices are better left unsung.

Enough of lame advices! Moreover, there’s no point in talking sense into you anyway.

No matter how much I try, nothing will change. You’ll commit the same mistakes I did. You’ll learn the same lessons I learned. You’ll ultimately become Me@25. It’ll be a fun ride, though at points you’ll feel otherwise. And then one fine morning, you’ll write what you’re reading right now and feel good about having an active memory. Like they say, it’s all written…. in destiny or on internet.

Yours very own,
Me@25

N.B. The idea for the above piece came from this post where I left below my more-than-necessary-but-honest comment.

Canada & Kannada!

Thinking has to be a human brain's favourite pastime. It loves to wander even if you don’t care to join it. Likewise, a human mouth’s favourite pastime is talking (read: gossiping). But when a person is busy thinking, a lot of factors conspire with each other and form a pattern of thoughts. It’s like a canvas filled with unexpressed words. Unfortunately, very few are able to transcribe what the voices in their head dictates. Fortunately, I’m not one of them. But to my credit, I was the first human ever to figure out that African Lion is an anagram of Californian. At least I like to believe so! And to add to my inglorious accomplishments, I achieved this *feat* when I was in eighth grade.

I fully understand whatever I just said doesn’t make sense (and nor will the stuff I’ll be blathering hereafter!). What I’m trying to say is we often stumble on ideas that are unique in a way we never imagined before. It could be anything from how to hold a pencil while writing to tying shoelace in a less time-consuming fashion. Or keeping one eye closed at work to ensure sleep as well as demotion at the same time. In my case, it’s all words. I love words and literally live in them. I keep playing with portmanteaus and homophones and desperately try to coin new words.

Coming back to the title of this post, I recently realized that Canada and Karnataka have a lot of resemblance. Canada, with its significant land area and equally insignificant population (at least, density-wise) is spread out on the continent of North America whereas bang on the other side of the Earth lies the southern Indian state of K’taka located where Kannada is the predominant language.

Ottawa, the capital of Canada is located in the southwestern corner of the country. Similarly, Bangalore, the capital of K’taka state, is also located in the southwestern fringe of the state. Like Canada, the economy and logistics of K’taka is also located primarily in its southern region. Both have better infrastructure in their southern region compared to their northern counterparts. Canada finds its chief external port at Vancouver which is also Canada’s 3rd largest city. Karnataka’s 3rd largest city, Mangalore houses its chief port. Both these cities are located in their southwestern end [Vancouver on Pacific Ocean bordering USA and Mangalore on Arabian Sea bordering Kerala state].

As you can guess by now, I’ve obviously lost the plot here. The title was supposed to be Canada & K’taka instead of Canada & Kannada. Nonetheless, the differences eclipse the similarities in more ways than one. Canada is a sovereign nation whereas K’taka is a state in the Republic of India. Area-wise, Canada is the second largest country in the world with a meagre population of 33 million whereas K’taka has more than 52 million people. Also, Canada has two official languages namely English and French (primarily spoken in Quebec and New Brunswick provinces) whereas Kannada is the sole official language of Karnataka although it constitutes of varied linguistic/cultural domains namely the Tulu-speaking Udupi and Dakshina Kannada districts, Kodava-speaking Kodagu/Coorg district as well as the prosperous native Konkani community spread across the K’taka coast and not to forget the indigenous Marathi community spread inland and many more. But they all are bound by their shared adherence to Kannada.

P.S. I acknowledge the fact that this sincere analysis on such an obscure (and utterly useless) topic wasn’t the need of time. But then I can’t help those trying to find a cure for cancer, either. Besides you don’t need to be meticulous all the time (which I’m not any which way). I just thought of it and decided to indulge in usual trumpery and free geography class to y'all!

In defense of Coke Studio@MTV...

At the beginning of this year, I wrote a piece on Coke Studio (CS). Well, as you can guess, not many were aware what CS was all about until lately. But since then, it has infiltrated musical aficionados’ psyche like anything. On a personal level, I don’t even remember when CS replaced Suprabhatam at my place without making a sound (no pun intended). It’d be fair to say that Coke Studio is the best thing to have ever come out of Pakistan. After Nusrat Saab.

For the freshers, Coke Studio is a musical extravagance which has its origin in Brazil but the entire concept developed in Pakistan under Rohail Hyatt. The idea was to infuse music from diverse regions of Pakistan and provide them a common platform to showcase their talent. Top-notch is an adjective that comes to mind whenever I think of all the episodes I’ve watched. Yes, listening isn’t enough. If it’s CS, you better watch because there is so much to experience visually. The synchronization of lyrics and music isn’t something we, the hoi polloi, are often privy to. On a side note, the ignoramus among us (yes, Indians) can’t help but be amazed by the variety Pakistan has to offer in musical scenario; be it Sufi, western, devotional, tribal, folk or Qawwali.

So far, so good.

And then, Coke Studio decides to come to India courtesy MTV. As expected, we were thrilled – and still are – about the endless possibilities that lie ahead of it. The very first episode gave us a hint of how things will look like throughout the season. Seven performances took place in that segment which featured songs in 8 languages including Assamese, Bengali, Hindi, Marathi, Punjabi, Telugu, Tamil and Urdu. In simpler words, folk and regional music will get their long-awaited due but not without Bollywood’s crooning escorts.

To be very frank, the inaugural episode garnered mixed review. To be very, very frank, the reviews weren’t too positive. Many viewers expressed their utter disappointment with poor sound engineering and production as well as presentation (dull video panning). There were moments in the show when noise completely dominated fusion. House band were haphazard. Also looking at the chorus girls, what were they up to? What’s the point in having them seated there with no active contribution to a particular performance?

We can’t blame people for not liking CS (though they are more than 200,000 likes on CS’s Facebook homepage). It’s a personal choice but still dissing it without substantial sagacity is quite stupid. The very comparison with Pakistan’s CS makes the argument one-sided. After all, Pak’s CS has been around for three seasons now and is into its fourth year running whereas we are nascent and just one episode old. And we shouldn’t forget that Pak CS wasn’t a runaway hit either. It took time to gain momentum and with patience and precision, it did and how!

Personally, I feel negativity is good as it shall ensure improvisation. Also, we need to give Leslie Lewis credit for putting up a show in such a short notice, though on the down side, the unpreparedness was rather visible in patches in the first episode itself. But Coke Studio is all about evolution. It is like a musical journey through varied phases. And I am pretty confident they’ll pull this off.

Also, India being diverse and rich with umpteen languages, it is but obviously natural that all Indians won’t be able to comprehend every single song. For instance, a Punjabi is not expected to understand Tamil or Kannada per se and similarly a Manipuri or Naga from North-East may not have the knowledge of Marathi or Gujarati. And to be honest, those facing Coke Studio's language barrier must ask themselves whether they can discern their favorite English songs without online lyrics. Ergo, Coke Studio should provide translations from the regional languages to both English and Hindi on their home site.

Anyway for now, we need to sit back, give our consumeristic hypocrisy a break and relax to enjoy the show’s first season!

Idiot's Block, not Writer's

I haven’t written a paragraph in almost a month now. No, it can’t be Writer’s Block since I'm not a writer. It’s not much of my concern either. At least not as much as Idiot's Block is. And the worst part is, I'm not even growing wise. It's more confusing than the reason why we signed up for life. Besides, I’m just a one-liner thinker who scribbles and tries way too hard to be funny. In raunchier terms, I’m a writer’s version of one-night stand. Sitting down to write an essay or an article is a torture to be very honest. The kind of time and dedication it takes is sadistic but (sadly) rewarding at the very same time. On the contrary, when you produce an one-liner, there is nothing to lose. You have this idea and all you have to do is put it within a sentence or two and lo you are done! [In related news, I just completed a paragraph.]

Even right now, as I’m typing whatever you are reading, I’ve got no concrete plot to come up with. Like they lie, I’m just going with the flow. Sometimes it’s hard to accept that you are no Pamuk especially when you are writing Grade A bullshit. But somewhere, deep down inside, you have this untouched poetry. Each one of us does. No kidding. This is the part which often stays unexplored. There is a bit of poetry in every human being. Only the lucky few get to share it with others. But then, most of us are neurotically indolent so that kills the suspense. In other words, laziness always replays a huge part in our failures. One needs to get organized and then go ahead with the plan. Like writers do. With research related stuff which I’m totally averse to. (See, the last two lines rhyme!)

That’s it.

I’ve nothing else to babble about. Yes, I can crack some cheap jokes on Baba Ramdev’s antics and PM Singh’s eternal silence or take a dig at the way humankind has totally lost itself in the ring-a-round materialistic whirlpool. But the truth is I had to update my blog page and obviously, I don’t follow rich principles when it comes to photoshopping of thoughts in words. And that’s the reason my fingers are still dancing on the keyboard. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have even reached this third paragraph.

Every once in a while, I try to gauge how a human being can create such fat books full of ideas. No wonder one-lining seems a lot more appealing and of course, easier. Furthermore, there is never a lack of incidents to comment on be it a colleague’s goof-up or your own or snobbish celebrities or politicians or some sports rivals. However, the moment I get down to write a 500-words rough draft, my brain instantly files for divorce. Although there are million of secrets to be told and billions of stories to be sold, I’ll be totally out of topic. That’s how *thinks* are as of now. Perhaps I’m one of those writers who suffer from Writer’s Block even before becoming one.

Lost in the labyrinth of tweets!

As of now, Twitter is a religion. At least for the tweeps. For the uninitiated, tweeps are the ones who gave up on ‘real’ life and signed up for Twitter instead. It’s almost similar to the selling-your-soul-to-the-devil-at-a-discounted-price thing. Of course, we shouldn’t generalize the entire crowd on the basis of the majority. Yes, there are some exceptions who sign up and then forget their passwords, and in the process, save themselves from getting 140-ed.

For us, Twitter is more than just an addiction. It’s part of a lifestyle. Moreover, it won’t be an exaggeration to state there are 3 types of people on Twitter: those who never want to leave; those who are always here; and the rest.

You wake up and find yourself on the timeline. You are just dying to make an impression. You can crack a joke, post an url link or twitpic. And the best part is even that won’t make you an attention whore. One fish never accuses another fish of being wet. Everyone is in. Yes, some get luckier than others but it doesn’t matter. Everybody’s part of the stage and there is enough space for more. This urge to be heard via tweets is beyond typos. Sometimes, it’s beyond grammar, too. Unfortunately.

Like Tyler Durden once nearly said, “This is twittermania and it's ending one tweet at a time.”

Different people are on Twitter for different reasons. Majority are of the social kind. They don’t mind transforming the timeline back to the heydays of Yahoo! chatroom. Minuscule few are dedicated to mentionless tweeting. But one factor binds all the tweeps – their unconstrained disdain for Orkut and in some cases, Facebook. Anyway, it’s a bit hypocritical on our part to find our common alma mater at fault when it’s clearly not. Whatever goes.

Twitter's Unwritten Rule #1 - If you've got absolutely nothing to tweet, tweet.

So what do we tweet about? Well, we mostly tweet shit. No, seriously. We do. You know, stuff that don’t have an iota of significance, not even to the one who’s tweeting. In less harsher words, Twitter is an adult toy. We experience parallel universe, so to speak. After all, there is nothing wrong with it. Here, you become your handle. You don’t even need a topic to tweet. Just look around you. You see things. You tweet things. Simple. No hard and fast rules. No wonder we seem to get more news on Twitter than there is news in this world. Accordingly, we become a dreamer or an activist or a revolutionary. For a day or two or three or four. In a way, we successfully kill time. Sometimes we even kill celebrities. Remember the time when Twitter killed Nelson Mandela, Shashi Kapoor and Abida Parveen when they were pretty much alive? Good.

Twitter's Unwritten Rule #2 - Don't keep your crap to yourself. Your timeline is dying to *no*.

Twitter loves sad people and vice versa. Complaining about everything under the sky is a daily phenomenon. Nevertheless, you just find an excuse to tweet. For the record, you are a confirmed twitter-addict when you lose something in your house and search for it on your timeline. The point is you can be sad, cribby and lonely on Twitter. Facebook is not a place to cry your heart out. And even if you do, people will *like* that. Twitter allows you to be depressed. That’s one of the reasons why some of the most painfully honest gems (read: tweets) about sorry life could be seen post-midnight. It’s also when Twitter feels like a city annexed by hopeless romantics.

Twitter's Unwritten Rule #3 - Feel busier than you really are.

Twitter is dominated by social engineers who are busy wasting their precious talent on timeline. They’ve got all the solutions to all the problems to all the solutions in the world. Plus, there are some really creative people who are busy entertaining others. And there are the ones who feel bad for the world while staying comfy in their air-conditioned rooms. In short, Twitter is longer than 140 characters. Lots of characters, in fact. Some are trolls, some fanatics, some politicos, some so-called orkutiyas. But then, different people are on Twitter for different reasons.

N.B. I wrote this piece for Ashik Gosaliya's website so thought of sharing here, too.