tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-159502602024-03-07T13:29:44.831-08:00dostlog aur mainsilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-58542656911245809252009-02-11T02:37:00.000-08:002009-02-11T02:38:24.511-08:00Pink chaddi campaign is making me feel queasy and confused1. Firstly, why are the chaddis PINK? Yes I ask this question even before I ask why 'chaddis'. Those even this much familiar with feminism or common sense, know that pink is not ALWAYS a colour of choice for women, it is IMPOSED on women. When we say pink, we automatically think baby pink. Fluffy, soft, delicate, sweet pink. We do not think of bringh magentas, we always think of pastels. because girls are supposed to be like that. Fluffy, pastel (mild not bright). Have we really NOT noticed that men wearing pink is SUCH a big deal. Depending on how evolved we are, we immidiately term the men 'metrosxuals' or 'faggots'. Don't we not. So PINK is obviously a statement. But is it a right statement?And this is NOT the first time pink has been used btw- <a onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," href="http://www.utne.com/2003-03-01/ThinkPink.aspx" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.utne.com/2003-03-01/ThinkPink.aspx</a>andeven in India <a onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7068875.stm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/7068875.stm</a>2. Why chaddis. Okay the inspiration was taken from a Burmese struggle. here is the reference: <a onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," href="http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20080527/burma_embassy_080527/20080527" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20080527/burma_embassy_080527/20080527</a>. If we examine what happened in this struggle and why panties indeed were crucial for protesting is , quoting from this article is this "of Burma's military leaders. Human rights activists say the leaders believe that contact with women's underwear will sap them of their power. Women -- and by extension their clothing -- are considered inferior by powerful men in Burma, say campaign organizers."The women there were protesting about a very specefic superstition along with other issues. But what are we protesting against mainly? Moral policing and violence against women. How do our pink chaddis achieve this? Okay lets bring Valentine's day in this. So we do ADMIT that Valentine's day is all about pinkness and laciness and not so much about freedom to do what I want? And valentine's day is just a woman's pink domain, is it? what about the boyfriends/husbands/partners?You cannot ignore the SHOCK and SEXUAL undertones of this campaign and I wonder if that is what we need to communicate at all and even if so, why with pink chaddis?3. Giving Muthalik so much bhaav. From an ignorable sie kick he has become the Gulshan Grover of the indian rightist wing. Really? Why? 4. The attacks at Amnesia, MAngalore were FIRST and FOREMOST about violence. Why even make it a moral debate? There is NO morality here. THAT IS THE DEBATE THE BUGGERS want to START. This is THEIR AGENDA!!!!! It is not ours. Our agenda is VIOLENCE and UNCHEKED VIOLENCE first. and if a debate does seem so IMPORTANT, if a dialogue with them is so needed, then why answer their 'attention grabbing' tactics with ours? Mutahlk is far away, in Mangalore and so are his men. Have you changed the mindset of your boyfriend/partner/husband/male co worker/domestic help/friend and anyone at all? If we do KNOW that the solution to this is in long term change of minds, then why get into this 5 mins (or if it is India TV then one week) of media glare. Barkha Dutt will surely do a We the People, wearing pink salwaar kameez and gloat. and we can feel happy about this. Make him a hero instead of a petty criminal. It is really is OUR choice.Read this " The journalists in Karnataka had started to ignore him and his 3 page press releases cum 60 minute non-stop nonsense adress 5-6 years back. Muthalik used to make rounds of all newspaper offices and TV channels for a single column news and a 30 second air space. Not more than a dozen journalists (half of them non - working!) would attend his press conferences full of vitriolic attacks on other religions and modern fellow Hindus. and from the same blog post"A young, hep girl in Mumbai's Malabar hill to a high heeled chic in South Delhi .......... American English speaking member of a ' pink cheddi ' brigade on Bangalore's Brigade road to a helloji blonde at Chandigarh's 17 Sector ........... Muthalik is now on every lips.............. "Link to this blog post: <a onmousedown="'UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this)," href="http://www.desipundit.com/2009/02/10/who-made-muthalik/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow">http://www.desipundit.com/2009/02/10/who-made-muthalik/</a>5. Lets not ignore the fact that even if do not admit it ourselves or our friends, this chaddi business has something to do with revulsion (even if no one is sending a USED one!). And that is also a patriarchal agenda, you cannot wish it away. I am NOT talking of 5 of you, you are so eveolved but the rest of us? So chaddi is NOT an intimate clothing any more is it? If it isn't how many of us send pink or any colour panties to our partners without feeling like OH MY GOD THIS IS A SCARY/BIG/KINKY/FUNNY BUT BIG thing? Why was Dev Paro exchange of nude pic such a big deal in this story. by big deal i don't mean how many news channels got hysterical about it (THANK GOD) but a big deal in the narration of the story. and Paro and Dev were sexually inclined towards each other!!!!So if its such a big deal, then before sending one, lets think what this pink chaddi means to me and what it means to send it to a criminal in Mangalore.as I mention in the title of this Note, I am confused and I feel queasy, I am not saying this is WRONG. At least this is a step. and a big step. and one that will not be so easily ignored but still....silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-56174436146943612732009-01-23T21:51:00.000-08:002009-09-01T22:57:14.712-07:00A long comment that actually desrves to be a postOkay so i found this really sweet(ha ha ), charming(roll eyes) and iformative(eyes can't roll back further) <a href="http://serenegurl.blogspot.com/2009/01/crash-course-in-chivalry.html">blog post</a>. <div>i commented on it but it might just be deleted.</div><div>so i am pasting it here.</div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> <span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;">Please please please do not call yourself a feminist. </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;">okay please please please maybe i was being too harsh, at least ADMIT that you are ONLY feminist when it suits you, nothing wrong with that now.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;"> sometimes we ALL cop out.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;"> Please please please i hope you realise that whatever your age is....i am assuming ONLY it is more than 12, writing a blog post which has this super cutesy tone to it by you adding a trillion please(s)and therefore makes you sound like 12. oh wait men like all women to be cute and protectable (shit there is no word like that but you got the point) </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;">please please please let me come to the ISSUES you have raised </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;">1.so you are not a damsel in distress. hmmm...you know sound like you'd MIND being a damsel in distress. but why would you? you LIKE old fashioned things. they have lovely, charming quality to them and so does this damsel image. so why the resistance? </span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black;">2.unless the woman stays in a relatively unsafe place or it is after </span></span></span><?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:time hour="21" minute="0"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">9 pm</span></span></st1:time><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">, does this make ANY sense. oooopps for our information you have already declared yourself a feminist so surely you know better. men are ALWAYS the security, guards, chauffers, come on, have i ever seen a woman doing these jobs. that makes a </span></span><st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">LOT</span></span></st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"> of sense. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">3.so in case you are from </span></span><st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">North India</span></span></st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">, especially </span></span><st1:city><st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">Delhi</span></span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"> and </span></span><st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">Punjab</span></span></st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">, dude, just DROP DEAD. coz you are used to hearing TU at home, and that is like SOOOOO UNMANLY. only men from </span></span><st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">Bihar</span></span></st1:place><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"> who are MORE likely to use TUM, need apply for this post of being a REAL MAN. Hmmm.....Interesting. Not ONLY sexist, we also have linguist and regional biases. but we ARE feminists. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">4.Please please please. what if she REALISES despite your best manly efforts that she is an adult who ACTUALLY knows how to walk on street. shit that would be devastating to her gentle lady heart. NEVER let her find that out. let her always believe she can NOT walk on the road also without your comforting presence. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE women HATE feeling like capable adults. I mean that is SOOOOOOOOO UNFEMININE.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;"> 5.Now this is interesting. i always took the lady seats in Delhi. doesn't that go against my feminist spirit. so why did i do that. coz Delhi is a JUNGLE. men there are taught things that these post suggests. to be a man you protect and what you protect you posess and what you posses you can molest. get the logic. and HUH HUH HUH shouldn't any ADULT, man OR woman get up for a pregnant lady. REALLY REALLY, the men you hang around with need a crash course in THIS ? THIS? God, this is surreal!!!!! </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">6.even that thoughtful gesture happy? how do i (the blogger) know this,coz like I KNOW ALL WOMEN AND ALL MEN. Like I can speak FOR ALL OF THEM. AND ALL OF THEM ARE INCAPABLE adults LIKE ME!!!! Come on being treated like an adult is so UNWOMANLY!!!!!!! Dating etiquette of 19th century is so cute. so charming. so lovely. so was sati pratha. hey THAT really made a woman feel like a woman and you know she even DRESSSED in all her finery and felt even MORE like a woman. and you know like all men watching that woman burning also felt so chivalreous and all.come on I also like quaint charming things. can we PLEASE take your computer away from you, In west bengal it was believed that if a girl got educated, she would either go blind or her husband will die.... </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE after you have finished sniffing in a handkerchief provided by a gentleman friend (i knew you were missing a vital act of chivalry) you will hit delete on my comment. so i think i will post this reply on my blog with a track back to your rather enlightening blog post. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black;">Mwah. is this what good ladies do? I don't know. I usually use cheers. but maybe that is what gentlemen do....no? what do i know. I am not a feminist, for anyone's information. I just live by those thought, don't INFORM people.</span></span><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">p.s yes i do sound like very nasty to that poor little girl. but give me ONE good reason why that blog post shouldn't have made my blood boil.</p></div>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-50262385583853593612009-01-13T00:13:00.000-08:002009-01-13T00:30:30.629-08:00A new beginning and TAG TAG TAGWell i had abandoned this blog many many months back. and i had been blogging at <a href="http://www.aluchaat.wordpress.com/">www.aluchaat.wordpress.com</a> and abandoned that as well and started <a href="http://www.koopmandook.com/">www.koopmandook.com</a>. yes i have commitment phobia.<br />yes there is a chance that i am single because i am scared that i might want to do this with partners as well and that is not usually allowed.<br />yes i am not sure whether the last line was serious or funny or a tragicomic mix of both.<br />yes i am rambling because this is my space.<br /><br />i discovered this blog <a href="http://youhavebeentagged.blogspot.com/">http://youhavebeentagged.blogspot.com/</a><br />which is as the name suggests is about tags. and i am a TAG junkie. i like talking about myself. i live in a delusional world where i believe people like knowing about me. so ...this seemed like a very very nice idea.<br /><br />Okay the tag is about films.<br />I should and I can talk about two films that I watched and LOVED called Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and Ghajini. But I choose to talk about a film that I watched on DVD a week back called <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0457939/">The Holiday</a>. and to be truthful i didn't even like the film. okay i liked Cameron D (who was not as good as in many other films) and i liked Kate W. Didn't care about Jude Law and Jack Black. Wait, I did think an ex love-interest suffers from Jude Law's hang over (Love interest is an actor too!!!) and that made me queasy but other than that the two boys did nothing for me. Now firang men rarely do but that is still besides the point.<br />I thought the film was so so mild and was trying SO hard to be cute, romantic and meaningful that it bored me. it was quite dharmesh darshan in english.<br />but still it made a mark on me.<br />for a personal reason.<br />two years back when i was STILL madly in love/infatuation/adoration/lust with some man, a friend had asked me to watch the film telling me that I should watch Kate's character and think of her journey. I did NOT like this idea one bit and so I didn't watch the film.<br />Now when i watched the film I was with my sister and bro in law and therefore couldn't ooohhh aaahhhh on the similarities or rather weep over them.<br />So I watched it quietly.<br />But bad as it was, I realised that Kate was me (what was her screen name? wait, Iris). So Iris was where I have been. And though not very witty or dramatic or whatever, the trick that Abbot, her writer friend employs to make her realise how wonderful she really is and instead of allowing Jasper to treat her like a puppy, she should SO kick him out, was very very cute and effective.<br />Too bad I am already OVER my Jasper but the film would have come in handy.<br />I wouldn't really really recommend the film UNLESS you are in a situation of unrequited love.<br />well the other love track between Jude Law and Cameron Diaz was too convinient and therfore did nothing for me.<br /><br />Okay so here is where you check this <a href="http://youhavebeentagged.blogspot.com/">blog</a>.<br /><br />p.s watch out for more posts, I am back I thinksilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1159350237696295162006-09-27T02:40:00.000-07:002006-09-28T03:36:21.073-07:00Khush raho ahal e watan , hum to safar karte hainI am shifting....ummm....actually I have shifted to<br /><a href="http://www.aluchaat.wordpress.com">www.aluchaat.wordpress.com</a><br />see you there<br />of course like Ghalib i also know the 'haqeekat' of 'jannat' but i like to believe that there is a long list of people who flock to this blog regularly and were missing my posts...silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1152338244729661262006-07-07T22:55:00.000-07:002006-09-23T05:36:54.910-07:00bachpan ki yaadeinlook at what i found...<br />enjoy the nostalgia<br /><a href="http://www.oldrussia.net/vas.html">http://www.oldrussia.net/vas.html</a>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1151563374890176122006-06-28T23:06:00.000-07:002006-09-11T23:01:04.686-07:00Book tag<span style="color:#000099;">The first book I remember reading:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">A</span><span style="color:#ff0000;"> fat and huge and red coloured dictionary meant for kids…It had LOVELY illustrations , I was three and the only thing I READ was the picture of a cute worm that was sticking out his head in A for APPLE….<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">The book that my parents asked me NOT to read and I read:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">They had a problem with my reading Hindi trash like Gulshan Nanda etc…and now papa helped me buy the same trash for some ‘official’ work that I had.<br />Also mummy categorically asked me to stay away from Kumarsambhavam, a play by Kalidas…not that I cared about his writings but because she asked me not to, I had too…the reason…it is about the relationship of Shiva and Parvati…the ideal husband and wife couple according to the Hindu Mythology and the 8th chapter in the play descibes their love making…with the sounds and the love bites…I was about 14 then…and it felt good to see that Indians especially gods also made love.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Book I associate most with love, for whatever reason:</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">The answer should be any <u><a href="http://gulzaronline.com/default.asp"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Gulzar</span></a></u> books as I look for all my love dilemmas in his books but lets be honest<br /><strong>Kasap</strong> by <u><a href="http://www.outlookindia.com/pti_news.asp?id=373810"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Manohar Shyam Joshi</span></a></u>- read it when I was falling in love, at the peak of love, when I was falling out of love and after my break up. Read it like a bible in those three years about 9 times. And each time I looked at it differently.the book is still my bible.<br /><strong><a href="http://www.google.co.in/search?hl=en&q=chitra+by+tagore&meta="><span style="color:#ff0000;">Chitra</span></a></strong> by Rabindranath Tagore- read it first when I was 12 and even at that time I remember being so moved I cried. And still can’t bear to read it. it is indeed a little non feministic I think but I don’t care.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#000099;">Book that should have never finished:</span><span style="color:#ff0000;"> any book by<span style="color:#ff0000;"> <strong><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shivani"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Shivani</span></a></strong></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"> </span>and <strong>Suvarnalata</strong> by <u>Ashapurna Devi.</u> ( <strong><a href="http://www.littlemag.com/listen/ashapurnadebi.html"><span style="color:#ff0000;">This</span> </a></strong>is link to a story by her)<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Book I am so embarrassed about liking:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Most of Sidney Sheldon books….okay so kill me for intellectual corruption…<br />and also added with a… gulp … both the volumes of Bridget Jones Diary.<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000099;">Book I am so embarrassed about not liking:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">None actually but I failed to see what was so cult-ish about <strong>Catcher in the Rye</strong> by J.D Salinger …okay sue me…I am ready, or disown me…yes especially the golgappa and the fried fish…see if I care…<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">One day I will pucca read:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Atlas Shrugged and Fountain Head by Ayn Rand…pucca promise.</span><span style="color:#ff0000;"><br /></span></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#000099;">The most erotic book I have read:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;">changing answer slyly, Mitro Marjaani by Krishna Sobti, <a href="http://www.pagalduniya.blogspot.com/">here</a> is a link to my other blog where i spoke about the book</span><br /></span><br />I<span style="color:#000099;"> could't sleep for nights after reading:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Dastavez, Volume one</strong> by Manto. For the uninitiated, he wrote extensively about brothels and riots, 1947 riots that is . Do read <strong>Khol Do</strong> and <strong>Kali Salwar.<br /></strong>Also<strong> Weekend</strong> by Nirmal Verma, disturbing is the mildest word that you can use for his writings.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#000099;">I can never finish reading, though have tried many times:</span> <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>The Fountain Head</strong> by Ayn Rand…kill me, I am a kaafir<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">I bought recently:<br /></span><span style="color:#ff0000;">The first three parts of St. Clares, by Enid Blyton<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#000099;">My wish list (3 books allowed):<br /></span><span style="color:#ff0000;">Selected poems of Sylvia Plath.<br />The Sandman: Book of Dreams by Neil Gaimon (currently reading it bit by bit at Landmark, every alternate day…it is expensive…okay?)<br />Tarkash by Javed Akhtar<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">and and and <a href="http://chaatpaapdi.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff0000;">chaatpaapdi</span></a><span style="color:#ff0000;">, </span><a href="http://www.chupkese.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff0000;">rambler</span></a><span style="color:#ff0000;">, </span><a href="http://aparajitasblog.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff0000;">aparajita </span></a><span style="color:#ff0000;"><u></u>and </span><a href="http://easelwork.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff0000;">easelworks</span></a></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"> are tagged.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><br /></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1150719684448956372006-06-19T05:13:00.000-07:002006-08-28T22:56:28.990-07:00Gulzar saab ke saath bada hona...I remember once when i was 13-14 and my mother and elder sister were watching Ijazat and oooohing and aaahing about something.<br />and then that song came ...'Katra katra milta hai...katra katra jeene do"<br />i had thought how dumb who would want to live drop by drop...Not me for sure...i want it ALL and AT ONCE...<br />when i told my mother this she gave me that smile that means...one day you will grow up...<br />and worse was my sister (who i secretly thought was a silli oaf most times) also claimed to understand the song and next day she and her friends were discussing the song when i expressed my opinion and they got all patronising...<br />Did i get mad or what??? i took a vow to understand that and more one day...<br />i always liked the peppier ' chhoti si kahani si barishon ke paani se'<br />till recently when i was reading his book and it struck me for the millionth time that this man KNOWS exactly how i am feeling...how how and how does he know?<br />and i do understand the above mentioned song better but it hurts to grow up and understand it...<br /><br />Similiar sentiments have been shared in another sher of his which is even more beautiful and more painful...<br /><br />" Tumhaare gham ki dali utha kar zaabaan par rakh li hai maine...woh katra katra pighal rahi hai main katra katra hi jee raha hoon"<br /><br />aaahhh the sweet pain...don't ever go away...silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1145881301588936482006-04-24T05:19:00.000-07:002006-07-07T06:46:34.236-07:00kuch kho gaya gaya hai mera...Idhar udhar se samet ke<br />Daali thi gullak mein<br />Usi din to!<br />Socha tha phursat mein<br />Dheere dheere haule haule<br />Unko phir se apne andar jaane doongi<br />Thodi pighalti mom jaise<br />Thoda aisa jaise June mein gale mein paani mehsoos hota hai.<br />Aaj kisi ko apni yaadon ka<br />Ek kliedoscope dekhate dekha aur<br />Maine apni gullak khangaali<br />Nahin khali to nahin<br />Bhara hai sab<br />Aur ajeeb si baat hai<br />Tarteeb mein hai<br />Par<br />Mera nahin hai<br />Jaise man se khareeda ho kuch<br />Aur ghar aa kar pata chale ki kisi aur ka saaman galti se mere saath aa gaya hai<br />Chahe woh kitna sundar ho…<br />Mera to nahin hota na.silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1145620641116407572006-04-21T04:52:00.000-07:002006-09-17T22:26:52.306-07:00Silbil's dinner dressing up<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6475/1495/1600/nandini%20dinner%202.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6475/1495/320/nandini%20dinner%202.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6475/1495/1600/nandini%20dinner.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6475/1495/320/nandini%20dinner.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This is what I do at dinners<br />I look tired and sleepy because it was a hard day at office...<br />Had dinner at Oh Calcutta Express which serves some really good bengali food...<br />enjoysilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1142242102898008452006-03-13T01:23:00.000-08:002007-02-23T21:46:42.986-08:00Smash, drip and evaporate...learn to be a woman.<span style="font-family:courier new;">After reading through the various posts at this </span><a href="http://blanknoiseproject.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:courier new;">brilliant blog </span></a><span style="font-family:courier new;">and sifting through my own experiences and bloody extractions,I have written this piece...</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">and it's still in process...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="color:#663300;">Smash smash smash.The satisfying sound of the glass crashing down .The time standing still for those few seconds .The liberation.The sexy crunch of the glass…<br />Ah…bliss.<br />But that feeling is too much to ask of this world. So I smash my mind instead .And heart doesn’t soar … Like it should at the sound of breaking rules. The smashed bloody mind just takes it silently… No fun there, I tell you!<br /><br />I should be ‘losing control’ the way men on the bikes did in ‘Rang De Basanti’ .While the pretty girls cheered them on .Didn’t they make your body pulsate with what all that you want to do? Not mine though!</span> </strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="color:#663300;">I was too busy giving in to control.<br />Screams free you! They did that too Naseeruddin Shah in Hero Heeralal But what happens to the screams of the heroines?<br />Heroines…the babes who get raped and after some eve teasing fall in love and promptly touch the feet of the savior husband after the interval.<br />I am telling you there can be nothing as awe inspiring as the justice of the Hindi films. Nothing as spiritually elevating.<br />see it's like this-You sexually molest me and I fall in love with you instantly…okay?<br />And then I marry you and I look up to you all my life…okay? So what I have done is that I have begged you to save me from yourself…understood?<br />Also add to it some economics .Isn’t it more cost effective to rape me every night? After that genius stroke of ‘mangalsutra’ .Than to rape me just once in while. Also now you can focus on so many more freelance rapes… </span><br /></strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663300;"><strong>Marriage is all about common sense, my love.<br />And believe me I am going to slap the next, educated person who complains about the aimless youth…especially men. Seriously, get a life dude!<br />Aimless? Unemployed? Look at all the hard work that they put in.<br />First they decide what a beautiful woman should look like<br />Small waist. Toned thighs Cute ass? The poor men …they have to constantly decide whether bigger is better…or maybe it should be small and firm… then...Smooth skin…no pimples…not dark<br />Not too big, not too small, not too sagging, not too perked up- breasts.<br />And if </strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663300;"><strong>you feminist… loser… loner whatever shit they call you these days<br />Don’t come up to the standards t</strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="color:#663300;">hey have to fail you and you can curl up in your bed alone and let your heart shrivel up. And this is just in short what all they have to keep an eye on.<br /><br />Then the other group swings in action . See.they are men and therefore practical so they divide the work amongst them …fine?<br />So the other groups sit in various, inconvenient, uncomfortable places like buses and roads nd offices and homes .And then they have to pinch, grope, maul, twist, slap </span><br /><span style="color:#663300;">and do all that physically excruciating work …</span> </strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#663300;"><strong>because the bloody women always look enticing…<br />And they have to do that<br />You think it’s fun for them.<br />You think they enjoy this.<br />They ask irritably and wearily.<br />And I feel sorry for the poor darlings<br />Can they help it…that unfortunate hard-on and all that<br />When they see anything that resembles a woman<br />And they must despite themselves<br />do all of the above.<br />Please understand na,<br />They are men…<br />What can they do?<br /></strong></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000000;">Yesterday i was watching Madagascar and the most fantastic part of the film according to me is where Alex the lion is frantic with worry and he cages himself and asks himself and later his Zebra friend if he is really a monster...with all the hunger that is killing him and all the temptations around he is petrified of himself....and I wondered if any of the molestors have had that dillemma ...are they actually monsters from inside? </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Alex the lion won the battle with his monster self by the way...</span></p><p><span style="color:#663300;"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></p></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#663300;"></span>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1140983048259493022006-02-26T11:32:00.000-08:002006-02-26T17:25:26.590-08:00Kamaljeet...Meetoanother person i used to know very very long back passed away last month.<br />and she too commited suicide...a very talented and bright girl and very beautiful and warm as is evident from her friend's <a href="http://necessityprevails.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_necessityprevails_archive.html">tribute</a> to her. she it seems was suffering from bi polar disorder.<br /><br />and it made me think and feel responsible for the countless people around us who are suffering from many painful mental illnesses that go un noticed...more so in our country<br />and even those who care for the person concerned are sometimes not able to help the person because they don't know enough...<br />and when we try to push what could be depression (to be brave or even worse thinking about people's ridicule ) aren't we doing a grave injustice...<br /><br />about meeto ...i didn't know her much...though she was a fairly important part of my childhood -then as she seemed to live a fairytale life as compared to us and some of us were very jealous of her...<br />but also in awe as she seemed to know so much more and all the teachers seemed to love her more...<br />if i may say so now and even if it doesn't make sense...i wish they had given you even more love and i hope the colours in your life were more brighter and warmer than i could have ever imagined...i am sure you deserved all that and more ...i am sure you meant a lot to your friends and i am sure you will always be that beautiful and smiling face in their heart and a part of their prayers and victories throughout their lives...silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1140159105681617172006-02-16T22:23:00.000-08:002006-02-20T22:59:50.906-08:00A young girl's death and many questions<strong><u></u></strong><br />i left out suicide in the heading ...does it make it any less titilliating...<br />this is about kuljeet's suicide<br />and before i continue i will admit and confess that i am guilty of all that i write here too...<br /><br />i have also been indifferent and dismissive and have told myself and others many times that it is not worth making an issue of ...<br />like for example how media trivilaises each and every issue!! And have i ever raised this issue before in my mind forget into a discussion, a letter to editor or even in my blog. Have i really cared so much before it touched my heart and created a disturbance in my mind space?<br /><br />Mid Day and scores of other papers have covered and thankfully in not as much detail as nafeesa joseph's death but have anyway gotten as much mileage that they could have got from this.<br /><br />1. first they want to know why the boyfriend is absconding ,was he a bastard, did he say horrible things to her, why wasn't he at the funeral? we want answers to all of that so that we can quickly (instant noodles and instant emotions which means hunger over humane duty also over...that's us!!) sympathise with the poor girl and call the boyfriend a bastard and then get on with our lives ... and he is a bastard and we are not???<br />i am not advocating a morbid fascination and obession with death and suicide but.. But why don't we don't want to know (whether we are men or women and at whatever age) what made that poor girl a poor girl...not just one fight with boyfriend at the age of 29 has killed her...the causes must have been in her life forever...and what makes that boy a bastard...we do!!! we teach the boys to be insensitive as sons, friends, boyfriends and super heroes (saif in salaam namaste is cute and poor thing though nothing expalins his stupidity at the age of 30 when he can't understand that a woman has more needs than a chocolate ice cream) ...<strong>oh and i must underline the fact again and again that this post is not about Kuljeet and her boyfriend...i don't want to know the specifics and i don't want to blame her or him and i don't think the incident is exciting at all....</strong><br />coming back to a relationship gone awry who tells a girl that a nice man will solve all her pain and loneliness away we do!!!!<br />and are we assuming that she is getting into a relatiosnhip with a shrink who doesn't have any problems of his own? and what is that pain and loneliness that she is not taught to resolve on her own? is valentines day actually just another day for fun and frolic..what about the pressure it puts on the single people...are the hindi films just mindless timepass? don't they become a part of our dreams and desires and life even after we walk out of the hall?<br /><br />2. The wave of sympathy that is flowing in the city till another thing that is making me puke ...poor single women alone in the city so sad so bad...how about something more constructive than pity for once...<br /><br />3. media frenzy: papers have gone ahaed and published the pictures of the building that she used to stay in...red circling the very house...why? why? why? did she kill herself because the architecture of the house was faulty? haven't we made it difficult now to rent the house out becasue a whole lot of us are not comfy sharing our life with an unhappy soul...well to those losers...her soul is not really enthusiaistic about sharing that space with morons like you, so there!!!<br />and at a macro level as it is sooo difficult to get a rented flat in the city if you are single person...well if you are a guy you are just irresposnible and destructive at the worst but god forbid if you are a girl then you are totally looney and a slut...otherwise you would have been married by now!!!! haven't we again put that fear back again the minds of those idiotic landlords? thanks very much!!!! and those who think that i am hyperventllating please read <a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/1420532.cms">this </a><br />also those who want some mouthwatering gossip on looney single women-respectably married women commit more suicides than single women...does that say anything about the magical security men provide women...<br /><br /><br />they also have interviewed some random co actor of hers and published a story (half page) who didn't like her much and didn't interact with her much and therefore did not attend the funeral- so are we not allowed to dislike people? and are we to assume that this man is a bastard too? would it matter to her soul if he didn't but we HAVE to know all of that and more with our marie biscuits and chai...very very important...<br /><br /><br /><br />i will write more...i sure haven't finished....silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1139825278447940722006-02-13T01:57:00.000-08:002006-02-27T20:24:31.790-08:00For Kuljeet<div align="center"><br />You forgot to will them,<br />but we still claim them-those days,<br />moments...from your life.<br />we are keeping those for ourselves<br />- a polite, brief smile,<br />a united prayer,<br />a helpless fit of laughter,<br />moaning about a pimple,<br />raising eyebrows and lamenting over that jerk,<br />a smiley for a sms.<br />Those days when your dreams swelled my heart too,<br />When your pain fit my hanky too,<br />When your fears mirrored mine.<br />And it hasn’t finished or stopped Kuljeet.<br />Still my sighs over the moonlit sea or a new shoe,<br />An argument with some very familiar pain or fear</div><div align="center">Will hold you.<br />Don’t worry, no one will take your name away from your favourite song.<br />Don’t worry,<br />Hide,rest and watch us if you want to for the next 40 days<br />Come back then<br />And we will fight again.<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">10.02.06</span></div>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1139389225247563602006-02-08T00:57:00.000-08:002006-06-15T23:29:44.926-07:00And he said<br />" You know<br />what you look like in the mirror doesn't interest me that much<br />but the mirror in your eyes<br />that allows me to look tall some days<br />make a fool of myself...<br />making me laugh at myself<br />or sometimes just lets me see myself with no additions or subtractions,<br />that mirror, N, I claim as mine."<br /><br />09/02/06silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1139389013633891542006-02-08T00:51:00.000-08:002006-05-05T02:02:19.786-07:00Main ab us pagal ladki ko kya samjhaaoon<br />Kamre ki khidkiyan kas ke band kar lene ke bawajood<br />Parde ke peeche us adkhuli (half open) jagah se to dhoop andar aati hai<br />Aur apna ek tukda chun kar pasar jaati hai!<br />Muffler jitna bhi kas ke kaano par lapeto<br />Thandi hawa dil mein jo bhi gubbar bhar ke laati hai<br />Sab kucch keh sun kar hi talti hai.<br />Phir yeh ladki kyun apne ko bewaquoof banaane ka khel khela karti hai?<br /><br />* I might be in Mumbai par dil ke mausam dilli ke rang dikhaate hain<br /><br />09/02/06silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1137128332467024332006-01-12T20:55:00.000-08:002006-01-12T20:58:52.466-08:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6475/1495/1600/clicked%20by%20the%20great.jpg%20(3).jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6475/1495/320/clicked%20by%20the%20great.jpg%20%283%29.jpg" border="0" /></a> This photo of mine is clicked by Bhushan a collegue of mine...who is usually a pain in the neck...but is a walking encyclopedia on hindi film music among other thinsg, writes pretty decent street plays and now is trying his luck on cell phone photography as is apparent from this picture...Enjoy and yes he has made me write all nice things about him by threatening and blackmailing me ha ha ha ha hasilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1130395403095016262005-10-26T22:57:00.000-07:002006-08-16T02:30:48.126-07:00<div align="center"><strong>Nirmal Verma passes away...</strong></div><p><br />I always have believed that you should only read Nirmal Verma only when you can handle it...the kind of sadness and loneliness that suddenly comes,creeps up and then envelopes you after reading his work is just indescribable.<br />Grown up on hindi literature and being an incorrigible bookworm i have read a lot...but the kind of instant and definite effect his writing can have I cannot imagine anyone else having...<br />it seems pretentious to say that mere words can give you sleepless nights, can fill your nights with haunting silences, that suddenly you imagine that trees are sighing -tired in front of you, or the faded yellow sun behind the gray, cold clouds is whispering a half sentence to you...but it's true....you have to read it to be that aware...<br />your skin starts understanding the language that your ears are not trained to hear<br />There was this compliation of three small dramatic pieces of his called Teen Ekant ... i had the chance to perform them too. The performance were torturous...because basically i am not an actor and had no idea what i was doing...but i got a chance to meet nirmal verma when i went to invite him for one of the performances...and he came too with his beautiful wife to attend it..i saw him and almost forgot all lines (i told you i was bad) but he still after the performance gave this big smile and came and patted my head for the brave affort ...the kind of high that gave nothing in life can ever give...<br />Weekend in particulatr was a story that always takes my breath away...not in that foolish romatic way but it hits you so hard that you are left gasping for breath...</p><p>one of this favourite word it seemed was <em>beehad</em>...i wouldn't even try and translate the word in english buy basically when you say<em> beehad</em> you imagine a lonely very lonely desert, where except dry sand that fill your eye and mouth you can't see anything...this word he had used to describe the eyes of a little girl who was meeting his divorced father's girlfriend. the illegitimacy of relationships cannot be penned more honestly than in the way he did in that piece.<br />yet there was another one ...i am not sure what it was called but i think Bukhaar...where the angst, loneliness, alienation of the protagonist comes out in the form of fever...it was a scary story when i read it for the first time...at the age of 15...probably because there was too much that i couldn't understand so it just scared me.<br />but even now when i read it recently it made me restless...Nirmal verma is definitely not a person that you can read 'chalte phirte' , i mean you can try but do that at your own risk...beacuse eventually the words will suck you in its world and you will suddenly be too aware of all that in your heart that you keep so neatly and anticeptically buried in your heart.<br /></p><p> excuse me because i think i have made him sound like a horror film writer...its just that if you have experienced a very cold evening in delhi and the only thing that you hear is the wind and all you can see is a vague yellow light and you are not even sure what that light is and the annoying addictive melancholy smell of gulmohar following you and everything is still....you would know what i am talking about...when there is movement and life but still everything is still and silent...and after sometime the difference between both the phenomena cases to exist...that is what his writing was about...<br /><br />I hope that the reader will see through my rambling and will get his writings asap and experience them for yourself...those who feel uncomfortable reading Hindi...a lot of his stories have been translated...and Little Magazine especially did very good translations....<br />and his words were like a painting so it doesn't really matter what langauge you see them in.... </p>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1129399789335688192005-10-15T11:04:00.000-07:002005-10-15T11:09:49.340-07:00Kisi aur ka khat padh liya tha maine ek baar<br />aur us ke shabd chipakte rahe the<br />aankhon mein din bhar<br />aisa hi laga tha aaj jab maine<br />bina tere jaane tujhe dekha tha<br /><br />Ek baar paara pakadne ki koshish ki thi<br />haath mein<br />baar baar phisla tha<br />jab tak nahin haari thi main.<br />Vaisa hi laga tha jab maine un shabdo ko soonghne ki koshish ki thi<br />jo kabhi mere liye kabhi kahe hi nahin gaye the.<br /><br />Khaali bartan gir gar khad khad ki aawaaz karta ghoomta raha tha zameen par us din<br />main zara sehm gayi thi.<br />vaise hi maine aaj jaate hue kadmon ki aahat suni thi<br />jo kabhi meri taraf aaye hi nahin the...<br /><br /><br />15/10/05<br />9.30 p.msilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1127739663011242602005-09-26T05:54:00.000-07:002005-09-26T06:01:03.986-07:00<table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><tbody><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off">I have just borrowed the smile<br />knowing its not for me<br />its safe with me...<br />and so are your eyes<br />and the tip of the nose with that bit of sun on it<br />and as is everything else<br />you could come and check if you want to<br />my sleep plays jigsaw puzzle with them each night.<br /><br />5.45 p.m<br />26/09/05<br /><br /></td></tr><tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1127383070302906092005-09-22T02:53:00.000-07:002005-09-22T02:57:50.306-07:00<table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><tbody><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off">I carve out a part of my heart<br />I make the edges neater<br />I enclose it carefully in words<br />showing a glimpse<br />but not laying it open...<br />I carve out a part of my mind<br />I put it on this paper<br />I cloak it in words<br />I call it a poem<br />and<br />I push it away<br />so that it throbs somewhere else.<br /><br />22/09/05<br />3.25 p.m<br /></td></tr><tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1126760753883998032005-09-14T22:03:00.000-07:002005-09-14T22:05:53.883-07:00<table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><tbody><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off">the angelic child sits there<br />face turned away<br />indifferent<br />not recognising her.<br /><br />Impossible to believe it was was ever hers<br /><br />a barren woman gazes at it longingly<br /><br />He is the dream i orphaned ages ago<br />and this woman who winces<br />shrinks in shame is I<br /></td></tr><tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table>silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1126722670605129052005-09-14T11:28:00.000-07:002005-09-14T11:31:10.606-07:00pata nahin kaun jeeta<br />kal raat mukabala tha<br />sannate ke beech<br />aur un hazaar baaton ke beech-jo main kehna chahti thi<br />kal raat maine kaha bahut kucch...<br />tum ne suna ki nahin?<br />sote rahe tum<br />par sapne dekhe meri aankhon ne<br />apni nasamjhi ko samajhti rahi raat bhar<br />door se dekha tha tumhaara chehra paani par<br />jhilmilate chand mein,<br />par doobti bhi rahi aur behti bhi rahi<br />main.<br /><br />25.01.2004<br />1.58 a.msilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1126722474055255942005-09-14T11:25:00.000-07:002006-04-15T05:33:25.893-07:00Samajhne ki baat hai<br />andhera kaatta hai,daraata hai,<br />ya phir un sapno ko sweekar kar leta hai<br />samet aur sahej leta hai<br />jo din mein dikhai dene se darte hai<br />haule se aa kar<br />pyaar se sula dena badi baat hai<br />par<br />us se bhi badi baat hai<br />bina kucch kahein aur bina kuch sawaal maange<br />jaagte rehna raat bhar<br />saath mein.<br /><br />29.12.2003<br />12.50 a.msilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1126722285503933662005-09-14T11:19:00.000-07:002005-09-14T11:24:45.506-07:00Dhoondha hai<br />par nahin milti to nahin milti,<br />mere chain ki neend,<br />cigarette ke dhuen mein<br />sulagte hothon ke beech<br />dheeth sapno ki bheed mein<br />jo mujhe, mere hone se alag kar de.<br />us ke dhadakte dil mein<br />kucch to mera hoga<br />yeh chaha nahin sirf<br />har pal jiya hai ise...<br /><br />26.12.2003<br />1.40 a.msilbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15950260.post-1126519788636968722005-09-12T02:55:00.000-07:002005-09-12T03:14:26.703-07:00Difference between Iqbal and Black<br /><br />to begin with ...Black annoyed me and pissed me off and even bored me...and i loved Iqbal...unashamedly i loved it...and they were kind of about the same thing weren't they...the life of the disabled people...their problems...tehir dreams...basically everything that makes a life...<br />but there is a difference ...iqbal was a human being and the rani in black...was a disabled person !!! <br /> When iqbal struggled hard ,we wanted to say-"way to go champ!" and when the black girl ( i am not going to look for her name...i don't remember it and that's that) struggled we were forced to say ' hai hai poor girl...saare jahan ki museebat us par hi hai' ek to dekh nahin sakti sun bol nahin sakti and aur upar se insensitive father!' and we were made to feel guilty for having eyes, ears and speech....<br />i mean if i had a friend who was blind or had any disability do you think she/he would want me to keep on saying poor you...let me do that for you...oho such a sad life...blah blah...or do you think she/he would want me to forget that she is blind after the inital getting used to<br />...but no mr bhansali did not let us forget that for a second that she was blind deaf and dumb...and that we were not...there was no US in teh film ever...just all of you losers and this poor great soul....<br />and iqbal was a friend...he was us...his father saw him like any father sees another child...lazy and whiling away time...neither a burden neither a porcelain doll...i am not saying what happend in Black can never happen...it sure does...all i am talking about the message that the films sent...are the disabled people THEM and we are US....wasn't that the whole idea behind Black....silbilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14368116409362597344noreply@blogger.com0