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[BPL]~Love in Bollywood: Kismat Dis-Konnection!

Team This post has been published by me as a team member of Inscribe Tribes for the SUPER 6 round of Bloggers Premier League (BPL) – The first ever unique, elite team blogging event of blog world. To catch the BPL action and also be part of future editions and other contests, visit and register at Cafe GingerChai

 

 

Looking at her dead body, I didn’t know what to do. Mind went blank and hands into the pockets. I found the dagger that Rashmi had gifted me. I wanted to move on and not die, but what can one do if I have to die as per the script? Who could change the script of life? Sab bhagwan ka khel hey! All in the name of, holy cow!
I was just about to play by the rules and poke the dagger into the left ventricles of my heart, ki I heard a voice calling out loud to me.
Abe uttja oye…naalayak…paune nau bajgaye” – it was my mother, and I was thrilled that she rescued me at the exact moment.
Thank you maa, thank you
Kyun beta, saw a bad dream?”
Hey bhagwan, how did you guess? Tumhe sab hey pata, hey na maa?
Why won’t I know? Beta baap pe jo gaya hey“.

I was very similar to my dad, so said everyone. Papa kehte hey, ki he named me Raj as he knew looking at the newborn me that I would one day become a Shahrukh Khan fan. Truth is, he was in love with Rajani, his professor’s daughter but never had the courage to confess to her. In those pre-internet days, he had no option of remembering her as his password either. So when my mother was carrying me, he vowed to offer 100 coconuts to the almighty if I would be born as a girl so that he could name me Rajani. Maa knew he was a fan of the tele-serial ‘Rajani’, but never got to know why. To his utter dismay, it turned out otherwise and thankfully he cut short what he had in mind and named me Rajnaam toh suna hoga!!

Falling in love I think came to me, inherited. Same was the case with bad luck, when it was about getting committed. Papa had spent some quality time running around trees, while his younger brother had done all the high pitch drunken drama standing atop the water tank. Maa was no Mother Theresa either.
But none of them managed to hold on to what they went after. Eventually they settled down with what was being offered by the experienced, their elders.

I remember Papa narrating to me tales regarding our family history, most of which I must add, was tragic especially where love happened to be the central theme.
One legendary story was about how my great-great-grandfather had plastered my great-grandmother-to-be inside the walls and buried her while alive right in front of my chained-to-vows great-grandfather. My great-grandfather is then believed to have aimlessly wandered before surrendering himself into the arms of a courtesan, who is said to have had a moon-like-beautiful-face and as a matter of fact, even a stake in Royal Challengers Bangalore probably through ‘sweet antiquity’

With such a glorious family background, they had high expectations from me when it came to keeping up with the tradition and I didn’t disappoint any of them, one bit.

When I fell in love with Rita, I had shared the joy with my best friend Sanju that she was the one for me, for the saath janams. But when Rita didn’t like my brand new second-hand ambassador car, the seven births’ dream ended like in less than seven weeks and I was totally devastated and heart-broken. Ditto with our Yezdi freak Sanju, when Devika left him in favor of the Ritchie Rich Shekar who owned the latest, sleek and brand new 4-cylinder 1089cc Premier Padmini.
 
My parents were proud of me, so much that I overheard them broadcast “Raj ban gaya gentleman” over the telephone. 

And then came in Priyanka, who stayed right opposite to my house and loved to spend her time by her bedroom window. Everyday from my window, I admired her beauty of a ponds-lotion-face, but she thought of me as an awara romeo who invaded into her private moments and unconditionally hated me for it. I even made Kallu maama scan through all the 12 rashees to see if something can be set right which would make her favor me, but Priyanka had long given up on me.

When it comes to love, people end up doing what-not. Sanju once told me about a distant relative of his who had to put up at his father-in-law’s house as a maid, fully packed and all that, for over a month just to convince his angry wife to get back home and eventually was successful.

So we, Sanju and I decided to leave our hometown and go to Mumbai, where life runs faster than the local trains, in search of a job, a career and of course, love. Finding true love was tough, but nothing compared to finding a place to stay in Mumbai. Some how we managed to find two single rooms for us, close to each other. Ever since our padosan aunty, Laxmi Chachi received a telegram which read “Maa ka ladla bigad gaya” from her son’s landlord in Mumbai, we were being advised to lookout for separate houses.

Being from a small town, every girl in Mumbai looked eligible to my eyes so much so that I found it hard to differentiate between married and single women.
I got a job as a radio jockey, but love was hard to come by. Even my beautiful colleague Janhavi, was committed to an underworld gangster.

Though I put in some more efforts and did give it a try by staying a few months longer, I saw little hope for myself, a poor man, to find true love in Mumbai. I sincerely wished someone would invite me for her swayamvar too. But inherited genes and strong family tradition always seemed to rule the roost and I decided to return back home.

Inside the courtroom of a highly secured prison, I was standing in the custody box waiting for the judge to deliver his sentence.
My lord, the most important witness in this case is here. Please give her a chance to speak before you break that cheap local nib.Saamiya Siddiqui, my saucy young lawyer brought in that much needed twist to an otherwise slow and boring courtroom proceeding.
Pesh kiya jaaaaye” the judge seemed to have read what he stereotypically uttered, out of a book.
Thank you my lord. I now present before you, Zaara who is the love interest of our cross border prisoner. Kaidi number 786, Mr RAJender Pratap Singh.
As the courtroom door opens in slow motion, I feel the heat and start perspiring profusely. I was very eager to have a glance of Zaara, ki I heard a voice calling out loud to me.
Abe uttja oye…naalayak…paune nau bajgaye…iss garmi main kaise sota hey tu?
hmm…You Know Who!

PS: When it got to know that I was in fact the tribesman, who would be writing on this topic revolving Bollywood, Hindi demanded its rightful presence and usage in the write up. Being a true Indian Inscribed Tribesman, I had to honor the request as the ‘Show must go on’!

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35 Comments

Posted by on May 31, 2010 in Contests, Movies, Stories

 

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Picture abhi baaki hey mere dost… ;)

Nah…I don’t agree with Megs…I am not what she thinks I am. All that she’s written about “Sree and She” in her blog is merely a screenplay enacted in her mind…a script so fictional that fiction would seem to be real. I maybe a movie freak but once am out of the theatre I play my own character role, myself. I don’t get affected by the characters on the screen. I may have written a few love letters in blood which might have in advance inspired Rahul to write so to K…Kkk…kk…Kiran in Darr, but then that isn’t my fault…is it?

And yes, I sign off with “Where ShE is, SrEe is”??? – So what? My name is SrEe, but I’m not where ShE is. Not yet!

She came to my house yesterday, sat on my bed, checked her mails on my laptop (I guess she had touched it before too when I went to the restroom…it already smelt of her odor when I passed it over to her), talked to me for a while and even took a few potato chips off my plate. Uff…romantic. I know she didn’t like the way I looked at that moment but then she didn’t say a word about it. She left behind a card on bed at the very spot that she had sat. “Raji weds Rancho”, it read inviting me to her wedding with an idiot who somehow managed to impress and propose to her, before I could.

A few years ago I took up blogging to learn how to speak out my mind, to express myself and especially my love for her. How much ever I tried, my mind would get frozen as if I was standing not in front of my Team Lead (TL), but shirtless in freaking cold Antarctica. Raji, was just a year older to me and so it was considered a taboo to fall in love with her. Forget family, even friends and colleagues were not in favor. Gautham Menon too, was very late to cross and come out of the skies with a story on this very situation involving Karthik and Jessie. Ironically my friends, colleagues and family not only loved the movie but they even sympathized with Karthik. I think it was AR Rahman’s (ARR) background music that did the trick for him. I wish I had someone half as good as ARR playing music standing behind me too. But life isn’t a movie na? Nevertheless, I felt happy for Karthik. What if things didn’t work out for both of us? At least he got some sympathy from MY loved ones. Hmm…see I am smiling 🙂 I’m happy.

My first year in my organization was good…with trainings, new colleagues, batch mates and free coffee. And then like a fresh breath of air, came in Raji. She was a lateral associate, who was rumored to be very smart-cum-intelligent and hence was assigned the role of a team lead in our project to manage a bunch of merry-making freshers. It definitely wasn’t love at first sight for me. I hated the intelligent lot. And a woman dressed in a man’s attire on almost every day of the week, wasn’t my idea of the one I was eventually gonna fall for.

Just like Gautham directed Trisha in taking the office bus, Raji also used to catch the office bus to our campus. I used to take free (OC*) rides on my friend’s bike from the very same spot and that is exactly where I fell in love with her, months after she took over as my TL. She was walking down in a blue-n-white combination sari with a laptop bag in hand, which very recently Trisha imitated so beautifully on screen – it was her first time in a sari to office and my first fall off the bike while driving pillion – both on the same day and I celebrated the sheer co-incidence, drinking a cup full of coffee from the vending machine in the office cafeteria.

Every time I went n stood in front of her, I dunno what happened to me. Aren’t people in love able to talk? This was my first time, but I don’t remember Karthik struggling to talk in front of Trisha…then why am I not able to? I rehearsed my lines a few hundred times before each attempt but then my mind used to go blank the moment she looked up at me with those big beautiful eyes. I in-evidently happened to lose my senses, as those sweet lips made a saucy move as if asking, “Yes my love, you wanna say something to me?”!!! Having watched the movie Ghajini, I thought I too had this habit of forgetting stuff, but then in my case it seemed to be selective amnesia…only in front of Kalpana. Tattooing on my body about all that I wanted to tell her was an option, though a painful one. Not wanting to hurt the one who loved dear Kalpana, I decided against it.

Also I didn’t want to tell her my feelings via the office communicator. I don’t like the yellow smileys. They make me so uncomfortable, puke-ish. They seem to say one thing, while they actually mean something else. How will I react/respond if she replies negatively, backed by a smiling yellow face? I can’t even think of it.

As I struggled to tell her my feelings, the year long project went live and she seemed to have moved on. No more was she taking the bus to office. Karthik used to drop her to office on his bike. Jessie liked the fast pillion ride just like I did. Though we had the same tastes, we were not meant to be. Kalpana was killed, but I was not even considered fit to be a character by Gautham. On benefit of doubt, maybe he forgot. Ghajini, faala kameena.

Now that Raji is getting engaged to him, Rancho doesn’t want her to do poetry – shape or not – anymore but he would like her to be a scientist like him in the North East. Poetry he feels binds her to me…he fears I will comment with my blood on her poems and that in romantic emotion, she will flirt with me. He’s unaware of the fact, that it’s the poetry which flirts in between and not her. I anyways don’t. If he can’t understand this much, will he be able to understand it if she comes from across the skies? (did anyone see VTV? 😛 )

Disclaimer: This piece of write up is inspired as a result of watching some terribly good movies which have etched on to my mind. If anyone dead or alive is by chance related to any character in this story, I would suggest giving the doctor a visit. I would recommend Dr. J dot Asthana or his daughter Dr. Chinki.

*OC – Other’s Cost

 
4 Comments

Posted by on April 4, 2010 in Imaginative Bakwaas, I~do~such~things, Stories

 

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[Crazy-Poetry]~ Sakhu Bai…in LoVe! ;)

I know you would say, long time no see…
Kya bolu – I am fulltu busy, not at all free…
So what’s up, I know you would ask the poor me…
IT job, not as easy like monkeys climbing a tree… :mrgreen:

Anyways, I’ve something in secret to tell you all…
Thought of writing down here, as I feel very shy on the call…
Never thought this would happen, but chalo gimme a haaii-faaii…
How to say, hmm…ya…deeply fallen in love is your Sakhu Bai!! 😉

Sitting in the next cubicle, he used to gimme weird looks…
Initially I felt like hitting him hard with piles of books…
Then what to say, uff…he happened to seem nice and cute…
Love was in the air with music in the background, violins and flute… 😛

Feels nice to say, ki your Sakhu Bai is now no more single…
Too much time spent coochie-cooing free on phone, no time to mingle…
Planning is fulltu on, for our marriage which is now love cum arranged…
And oh yes, to ‘committed’ – my Orkut-n-Facebook status, I’ve changed… 😉

******************************************************************
Note: The English language is deliberately twisted at a few places in this poem…so my dearest English pundits, pls echoos me…this is purely a desi-flavored masala!! 😀

With permission from dearest Sakhu Bai, I tend to dedicate this poem(??) to all those who have recently been married, engaged, fixed or found love! – The theme of this poem was based on all your stories!! 🙂

As for the title of the poem – well…when Shaky (Shakespeare) can fall in love, why can’t our Sakhu-bai! 😉

Translations (for the few hindi words that I’ve used):
1) Kya bolu – what can I say?
2) Fulltu – is a slang word for ‘wholesale’ or ‘full time’
3) Ki – that
4) Coochie-cooing – its an art of whispering loud between couples (don’t ask me, anything more 😉 )

 
8 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2010 in Imaginative Bakwaas, poetry

 

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[Photo-Blog]~Love: Dawg-ie style!! ;)

The days were numbered. The contest was coming to an end. The mind had some ideas but since the search for models (male and female – human, of course) proved unsuccessful, I decided it was high time for some click-flick-bang-bang action with whatever I could lay my hands on. 😉

This was my entry to February 2010 Contest – Love – conducted by the Photography community at my office (on the internal blogs)!! – The title of the post was different and decent though!! 😛

Love is always not lovey-dovey…There are various stages a couple goes through….I’ve titled the pics, based on the stages which I could picturize with the pics I took!!
It is the pictures that I clicked first, and then thought about the different stages. So no confusion as to which came first (chicken or egg, likes! 😉 ). 😛

Consider that the guy in this story is a friend of mine. Lets say his name is Dalapathi Wanchuk Gunnu (in short and with love,  DAWG) and this is his story!!! 😛

1. Attraction: Dawg sees a gal (as usual 😛 ) standing close by…his eyes zoom in as she slowly zooms out of sight…he taps my shoulders, says he’s attracted to her…even makes the mistake of calling it love-at-first-sight. What the, sight!!

2. Interaction: Being kind enough, say I introduce her to Dawg. Dawg wanting some quality time to interact with her, signals me to get lost. I silently leave the place wondering (read: cursing 😛 ), if Dawg would have been a better policeman rather than an IT professional.

3. Seduction: Dawg seems to be a changed man nowadays. He wears the best of clothes, tucks his shirt, polishes his shoes and even gels his hair. Surprising of them all – not only does he apply (loads of) deodarant, but he takes a daily bath too. He only talks about her with me. She is like this, like that…she likes this, that…et al…I remember reading somewhere that “Barking Dawgs, Seldom Bite”…whatever it is, Dawg is a changed person.

4. Affection/Action: Dawg doesn’t tell me about what all happened in this stage. He’s such a Dawg. Hmmph!!

 

(Lap-top? 😉 )

Disclaimer: No Dawg’s were ridiculed or killed during the making of this post. Only a juicy tomato was sacrificed! 😉

 
10 Comments

Posted by on February 25, 2010 in Imaginative Bakwaas, Pics, Stories

 

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[V-Day Carnival] In-Difference, In-Love!! ;)

This is a collaborative poem…heavy term isn’t it? In simple words, its a poem written as a team…She wrote it, I copied it!! 😛

Well…the poem is about the some scenario/situation in a couple’s life…we’ve tried to capture on scenario revolving around the Valentines day…Originally written by Megs, before V-Day and then I took a lot of time to copy (read: cope with 😛 ) it…anyways, since THE day is now over, our verse is in its past tense.

Check out for Megs’s version from the lady’s point. My version is mediocre since its from a married man’s point!! 😛 (Who listen’s to a married man? 😉 ).
Check out both and let us know what you guys think about our collaborative poetry! 😛

Long have treaded the years…
Now she shouts loud into my ears…
But never does she change…
Her habits are still a pain…
The bell rings and phone trings…
And she expects me to answer…
Our mornings and evenings…
Same or sane, they are never…

Gone are the days…
I love you, she would hear me say…
Being toothless, now I cannot be clear…
But even today…
With my heart she plays…
Her looks gives it tremor after tremor…

It was the V-day, our kids had planned…
And arranged for us, a date…
Yet she screamed, as on the bed I laid…
Something about a plate…

She dressed in red, my favorite shade…
But I know she never would admit…
If asked, she would’ve said “I didn’t find jade”…
And I’d act as if I sulk over it…

I adjust my tie, make my leftover hair….
Which I think she likes, though bereft of tendrils….
Off the handle she does fly, as being late she can’t bear…
Yet no matter what, she has to spend a while by the window sill…

As I move out I see her follow, still slim…
I sang, our age old song…
“Lady in red is dancing with me cheek to cheek”…
She looks bright but the lights seem dim…
Striding with me, she hummed along…
While our kids stood cheering as they took a peek…

50 glorious years yet the spark lingers…
As we strolled in the moonlight…
Whispering nothings and entwining fingers…
Reliving memories we walked into the night…

 
6 Comments

Posted by on February 17, 2010 in I~do~such~things, poetry

 

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[V-Day Carnival]~In LoVe WiTh YoU…

Time and again, I silently smile…
Now n then, in just another while…
I wonder why, but its feels so good…
My forehead I pat, and say touch-wood!

It’s not that long since I last met you…
Or am I not aware, of the time that just flew…
I wonder how, cos it feels so nice…
Thinking of you, my sleep I sacrifice…

The chirpy voice I hear when I call you…
Makes me close all previous chapters, start anew…
I wonder where, you’d been all this time…
When the love bells in mind, happily chime…

 

 

You may not be here…
You may not be near…
All I have to do…
…is close my eyes to see you…
You may not be here…
You may not be near…
All I have to do…
…is breathe in, to feel you…

PS: Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you! 🙂

 
10 Comments

Posted by on February 14, 2010 in poetry, Thoughts

 

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[Sad Poetry]~Oops…in Love!! ;)

Once upon a time, there was this beauty…
Three cubicles away she sat, and her name was Sweety…
That I had this thing for her, I wanted to let her know….
But when in front of her, my battery would go all low….

She was always busy on the phone, talking this and that…
I would ping her on the communicator, “Are you free to chat?”…
However busy on call she was, she never said a no….
But before she’d reply, in desserts it would snow…

By the way, my name is Om Omesh Pitambar Shenoy…
Friends call me Oops in short, don’t ask me why… 😉
I’m tall, wheatish, handsome (as per my mom), hard working guy…
But girls tend to make me nervous, how much ever I try….

One day I decided that it was high time to confess my love…
I went to her cubicle but didn’t know to start, how….
She said, “Oops, I’ve something to show…you wanna see?”…
Glad that she broke the ice, I said “Sure” with a glee….

“Lucky mouse” I murmured, as she double-clicked on a folder…
‘Sweety_Engagement_Pics’, it read – I now needed a shoulder…
“Why are all sweety’s in the world engaged?” my mind silently echoed…
…and I sat there painfully smiling, as one pic after another she showed…

 
12 Comments

Posted by on February 9, 2010 in Imaginative Bakwaas, poetry

 

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