Why I chose Micromax

The battle has always been about what’s in our pants, only now it’s moved a little sideways. To what phone’s in our pockets. How big is it? How clear is it? How can I play with it? Would women want to look at it?

My generation, the 1986 born, may have been one of the last generations to have gone from ‘Whoa! A telephone at home?!’ to ‘Whoa! Phones can be cordless?!’ to ‘Whoa, It’s about the size of a brick but you can take it anywhere you go!’ to the recent ‘Whoa, I don’t even remember where my camera and mp3 player are at!’. And as a result of which, we still remember what phones are actually for, calling. And messaging of course, which was about the only cool thing you could do with a phone for the greater part of the mobile revolution. Besides Snake, possibly the only game that could get Angry Birds really foaming at the beak.

All I need in a phone are the basics, fancy functions be damned. It’s like, sure there are nuclear weapons and rifles that fire a thousand rounds a minute, but sometimes a well-aimed stone, though rather Neanderthal-ish, gets the job done just fine. And Micromax lets me do just that. Call and message, quite decently too. Sadly, not Snake. The bastards.

Even if I did want my phone to do more than a phone should naturally do, phone manufacturers don’t make the situation easy. Choosing one mobile phone, just one, isn’t easily done. There are newer phones releasing every day. Newer operating systems, better cameras, Steve Jobs-ier, bigger screens, brighter screens, clearer screens, stylish, more stylish, Mango, Apple, Blackberry and a lot of other fruitiness, not in the good way, happening in between. So while it’s all fine to have a lot of choice and all, wants are unlimited, means to satisfy them are sadly not so. Yes, I did study Commerce.

And so my Micromax becomes the Che Guevara to the tyranny of modern phones. It’s the natural rebel of all things desirable. Is it smart? Balls. Is it stylish? Only in the remoter parts of Somalia. Apps? Games? Whatsapp? HD Video? Fuck you. Non-conformism, at its purest.

So while the rat race of phones goes on, of which phone is better and faster, the Micromax chooses to stand by and watch the other phones sweat it out on-field. It’s so far behind the race, it doesn’t even need to participate anymore. It’s that damn cool.

Which of course, is why I bought it.

Also, the phone was dirt cheap and I was broke.

BanAnna

Every morning I buy the Times of India. Only to hear that somewhere in our country, an old man goes without his daily meals. Sad stuff really. But no, Anna Hazare wills it so. He refuses to eat, until he gets a Lollipop… Lokpal, whatever.

This is what I read and have been reading for the last 3 months or so. With the odd cameo of Baba Ramdev and a 2G scam a while back, it seems news in India has come to a standstill. Everyday it’s just Anna Hazare fasts and 3 other things that happen in the country.

And The Times of India isn’t even worth its weight. The raddi rate is currently touching Rs.10 a kilo, but the expensive Rs.4.50 for an issue of TOI negates it. I should thank DNA for its insanely low subscription rate. Clearly, I have aced the raddi market.

It saddens me though that the old must starve while I feast on daily portions of chicken or whatever the appetite calls for. What good I do hear though is that Anna, by virtue of fasting, has lost 7 kilos in 7 days. Talwalkars take note; throw out your treadmills.

Now to cut to the chase. Anna Hazare seems to have worked wonders on the country. People everywhere have united, starved of a national cause. The tricolours and Gandhi caps that were only let out twice a year, have now become the most fashionable and righteous of headgears. Suddenly, everyone’s a patriot. The generation that only heard of the freedom struggle in history textbooks, now gets to re-enact it for themselves, slogan-spouting and all. So unite all Ye Previously Pointless and Ye Fuck-the-Systemites, unite. Rage against the machine and all that.

Yes. The tigers are going, going, gone. Yes, we’re still insecure about our security. Yes, Ram Gopal Verma continues to make weapons of torture. But no, you’re not seeing the bigger picture. Corruption. It’s all because of corruption. Let’s put a really big Band-Aid on the whole thing instead of trying to solve the individual issues. That should do the trick. Heck, let’s get out en masse and clog the roads up and stuff. Good non-violence should after all make everyone else suitably violent.

The other thing about Anna fasting that troubles me is this: He’s starting the race a little too close to the finish line. To give another analogy a go, an old man fasting is a bit like a bomb with a short fuse. It’s unfair that the Government has only that much time to react and decide on a matter that could very well change (and complicate) politics. Time is ticking fast, and the old man knows it. He dies and he becomes a martyr. He lives and he could even make the cover of GQ, if he wasn’t so damned… unpleasant to look at.

Anna Hazare is gonna get you!

But no. This is non-violence. Look at us, we’re all being so rational. Just pass our bill no questions asked and we’ll call it a day and go home. Just do it. No, not your version of the bill, idiot, ours. I want, I want, I want.

They say that old age is a return to a child-like state. Too true, in Hazare’s case. Though I always thought there was a difference between child-like and childish.

Also, does the song Emosanal Atyachaar come to mind? (courtesy: Winamp Shuffle)

And Mr. Clearvisor.wordpress.com. I refuse to object point by point as you have done and so will only pick one. Yes, you’re trying to topple a government. Anna Hazare is following the Gandhi strategy of revolt and such yes? He did topple a government, didn’t he? And your format is only, so annoying. Even if I didn’t agree with Arundhati Roy, at least her article makes for good reading. See, this is how it feels:

Clearvisor, lie one caught.

Much to Spider-Man’s disappointment, in our country with great power comes with great opportunity. Sure, the government’s as corrupt as a hormone-charged teenager let loose on the internet. But then again, so is almost every Indian. We pay bribes, but really what the heck is that Babu accepting it for? Not a stain on my shirt, I tell you. I mean, I’m only a victim.

Sure, I fudge my taxes. Sure, I’ll pay to get my driving license faster. Corruption it seems, forgive the grossness, is a lot like a fart. Yours never stinks.

What Jesus said. Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone.

And really, who among the great unwashed will run this Lokpal? What angels will descend and guide the collective moral compass of our country? A part of me actually hopes the Lokpal gets passed, just to see it crash and burn. One government never worked out for us, two opposing institutions is going to solve the matter. Right.

Not to mention, the money that will be spent on setting up such a needless institution. Wonder where your recently paid tax money is going? Come on. Let’s hear that ‘Bharat Mata ki Jai’ louder this time.

The hazard of Hazare though lies in his inertia. He’s running down a slippery slope. He can’t stop lest he fall flat on his face. And he’s pulling us all down with him, thrilled as we are with the adrenalin rush of a quick descent.

He’ll get his glory while he can. He’ll be on T-shirts and slippers and stuff. But the crowd is fickle, Anna. Ask Dhoni. Today they celebrate you, but one misstep and you’ll be booed.

Please God, I pray to you, let that happen. I want the rest of my newspaper back.

Flaking Away

It never goes away.
Never.
Often I try to ignore it.
I can’t get it off my head.

I have tried.
Repeatedly.
But it’s something I can’t seem to shake off.
My shoulders must bear this burden too.

Passers-by stare at me.
Smirking.
They see me struggle in misery.
I tear at my hair in despair.

My friends offer advice.
Fruitlessly.
There’s only one path left to me now.
God please let Head & Shoulders work.

Gaana Mana Hai

Hindi music sucks. Well, most of what’s being churned out today, at least.
And before you think this is a baseless statement, I am going to get technical. And medieval on what passes for music.

First off, I like some Hindi music. Lucky Ali was excellent. Daler Mehndi was and is fun. Indian Ocean is amazing but they have long since risen above the cesspool of Indian music. I have a love-hate thing with Himesh Reshammiya. I love him because he’s one of the only artists to become famous with his solo albums and not solely as a playback singer. A feat which used to be not so rare in the times of Lucky Ali and Apache Indian and so on. And man, Himesh really knows what Indian audiences want to hear at really high volumes. Which brings us to why I hate him. Because he sings from his sinuses and every time, he releases an album, the whole country sounds like one huge nasal block. But the man deserves respect. And an ENT specialist.

Today, like much else in the country, all music has bended to the will of the great evil in the west. Bollywood. If you hear a new Hindi song, it’s almost impossible that it’s not from the latest run-of-the-mill Bollywood flick. It’s gotten so that everyone’ll hate the movie but still be blasting the music from the rooftops. (FALTU and Chaar baj gaye anyone?)

Every new singing talent out there wants to be a playback singer. Remember KK, Shaan and even the supposed rocker Vishal Dadlani? Well, they’re now mindless drones in a long processing line of mediocre movie music. The onslaught of reality singing talent shows doesn’t help the cause either. Abhijeet Sawant was only the heart-throb of the nation for all of 5 seconds, before he became just another voice in ‘hits’ like Tees Maar Khan. And right now, that’s the only reality awaiting the winners of the dozens of singing reality shows in the country. The road to obscurity never seemed so certain.

Next up, is what the singers are singing about. Almost 80% of Hindi, well let’s cut the shit, Bollywood music lyrics is all weepy and teary stuff. It’s all about love, my first crush, I miss you, will you be my girlfriend, please don’t go away foreigner guy, oh it’s so beautiful when it rains, and such other weepy stuff.

Bollywood music fans might not notice the difference, but it’s exactly the same reason why the younger generation loved the music of Rock On. It sang about laundry bills and a fairy-tale sailor, a refreshing change from the monotony of mush. Not great lyrics (I’m sorry Javed Akhtar, it’s true) but a refreshing start.

Let’s put it this way. The average Indian man is NOT sophisticated, soft or elegant. The recent World Cup will have proved that. So why then does our music give the impression that we’d burst into tears if we spotted a sad puppy?

And what is with Indian music all sounding the same? Wailing vocals and a dhak-chik dhak-chik in the background. What genre is this? Indipop you say? Please. That’s a myth. Go ahead, define it.

…

I thought as much. Nothing comes to mind, does it? Not to make you feel bad, Hindi uh Bollywood music. But all over the world, there’s rock, pop, reggae, blues, soul, funk, electronic, classical, jazz, Motown, World music and a ton more. All you’ve got is indescribable sounds and Bhangra. Bollywood really owes the Punjabis big time for bringing a bit of variety to it's music. Balle Balle indeed.

And if not either of the two, there’s remixes. It’s simple. Take old song. Add beats. Serve.

The last bit is the audience themselves. While English music listeners in India (me!) will give a good Hindi song a listen and a like, the average Hindi music fan remains a die-hard fan of his language. It’s all ‘yeh kya gaana bajaa raha hain?’ and ‘kucch maalum hi nahin padta hain’. Fine, don’t listen to English music. There’s a world out there. Brazilian, African and even the non-lingual electronic music. But sadly, much like we protect our customs, we remain afraid of being infected.

Please Anna Hazare, India doesn’t need to change how it behaves so urgently. Maybe I can bear that a little longer. Let’s change how we sound first.

An Ode to Fitness

To lose weight,
Exfoliate.

I’m my own Grandpa?

Now before I start, give me a little leeway on this one. I might sound crazy.

I first thought up this theory while listening to an Easter reading from the Genesis, (for those who know not: It’s all about how God created the world in 7 days flat).

God created man, and trees and animals and so on.

But right now, scientists somewhere are trying to create artificial life. Trying to create life from nothing at all. Cell stem research, Genetic something, whatever. And I have absolutely no doubt, that some day in the not so near future they will succeed. They will be able to create a human out of nothing at all.

Elsewhere, other scientists are researching the mysteries of space-time. They’re trying to see into the future or the past. They’re trying to send stuff back into time. You know, like in Back to the Future and so on. And I’m pretty sure that soon life will imitate art and they too will succeed. Sure we’re going to be able to time-travel someday in the future.

Now combine the two discoveries. What would happen if a bunch of scientists from the distant future traveled way, way, way, way, way back in time and planted life?

So technically, if the human race, created itself, you gave birth to you. Weird.

Ok now back to the mediocre science of it.

This would give a plausible explanation to creation i.e. We create ourselves. Because nature seems to have a very definitive science to it. One that's way ahead of us.

Case in point. Read this article or read the short version that follows:
http://www.mumbaimirror.com/article/7/201010052010100502384325239f1e98/A-buggy-computer.html

For those who choose not to read that article, here’s the short version. There’s a super-cool green beetle that reflects the same shade of green from all angles. Apparently, the crystal structure of the beetle has inspired scientists to design computers that will be faster and use light instead of electricity.

Now, it seems that nature has inspired technology. But if we apply my afore-said theory, what if this discovery evolved and such computer structures were somehow incorporated into a beetle and then planted in the past? Because to me, nature seemed rather very spot-on on this beetle. A little suspiciously so, too.

The same for learnings. Take the martial arts. Who discovered the martial arts? Well chances are it started in India. Chances are it started in China. No one is really one hundred percent sure. But what if, the martial arts were taught to someone in the past. From where it has grown to where it is today and where it could be in the past.

In short, my theory involves humans going back and helping the past. Kind of like, a cyclic future. Now note: I do not in anyway dispute the presence of a God. The universe and time was created by him, the idea of and that’s something we’ll never ever get a complete grasp of. Just that, I think we helped ourselves along the way.

You know what they say: Life comes full circle.

Of Glorious Days and Hungry Knights

Oh bright day,
Oh glorious day
The perfect day for a fight.

Oh fateful day
Oh glorious day
A chance to show my might

Oh blood stained day
Oh glorious day
I clothe me, a knight.

Oh hungry day,
Oh glorious day.
Pause the game, I’ll quickly grab a bite.