Global Warning

Everytime I fell ill - cold, cough, headache or anything - my dad would say, 'This is a warning from your body, don't abuse it and don't ignore it.' It might sound silly and of course, I'm also full of the arrogant ingredient that young people have - I don't care, but. But, I know that there's truth to it. There's always some truth to what daddys and mommys say, and some lesson to learn. So, heed my body's warning or not, there is another parallel I must draw.

The Global Warning.

Its getting hot. And not because of hip-hop culture. I'm writing this blog not out of scientific enlightenment. I'm writing it because I can't bear the heat. And I wonder, its only April. It's going to get much worse this summer. And what will it be like next year? And the year after? Will we be able to step out into the sunlight? Or will we be 'dangerously' prone to skin cancers and other horrors if we basked in the sun?

How soon before the water runs out? And how soon before the oceans rise? This issue is now bothering our political leaders, or well, at least visionaries. The Times of India thought enough to print a first page article about it. Al Gore made a film about and dramatically warned The White House. Apocalypse is coming.

What I'm scared about is, in whose hands lie the important decisions? Who can save us now? Can we all make a difference? Or is it really too late?

Jane Goodall visited Google Hyderabad a few months ago. Her talk was incredibly inspiring. She's living the life of those we read about. The One Man Army. Woman, I mean. She goes around the world, touching lives, writing books, making speeches. She inspires young people to start doing something. And kids from around the world have responded.

Jane Goodall told us about Roots and Shoots. Her little program that allows volunteers from anywhere in the world to start their own little Roots and Shoots in their city, town, school, home. Each Roots and Shoots group takes up 3 projects. Community level, environmental level, urban, rural or natural levels. Anything their want to make an effort towards, that becomes their project. And there's no compulsion. No monitoring. Just your own will to do something.

It's not too late. Jane Goodall came here a few months ago. I wanted to do something then. That little fire in my belly died out easily. But a little guilty spark remains. Tomorrow, Jeetu and I will start our little Root and Shoot.

More soon.

Don't Look Back In Anger

Please don't put your life in the hands
Of a rock and roll band
Who'll throw it all away.

My friends' band used to sing this song by Oasis. This was years ago, when I was hopelessly in love with the band and its vocalist. And one day, at practice, one of them looked at me and said that that line was dedicated to me. It made me cry. But he was right. They did throw it all away.

But I'll think of them every time I hear it. And sometimes laugh or maybe cry.

From under the desk

There is a bat flying around in my office. It's 8:30 in the evening and my eyes are pulled off my computer screen by an unusual overhead fluttering movement. It is a baby bat.

Bats are not very friendly. You cannot pet them. I promptly jump under my desk with a silly squeak. "There's a bat, there's a bat." Lots of girly gaggle. Finally, Pranav calls the security guys. But by then the bat has moved on to the other half of the floor.

I compose myself made my way out from under the desk. Hmmf. A bat flying around inside the 9th floor area of a large metallic building? What is the world coming to.

Quotes for the day

One of the most exciting film makers ever. Famous quotes. Brilliant chap.

"All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl."

"I pity the French Cinema because it has no money. I pity the American Cinema because it has no ideas."

Jean-Luc Godard.

My roller coaster love affair with Google

I've been at Google for nine months. I love the place. I love everything it stands for. I love Larry Page and Sergey Brin. They are amazing. Reading about them is so fascinating coz they're always upto something. And the press can never quite figure them out.

But here at Google, we see a video every week. A video of what happened at Googleplex, in Mountain View. Larry and Sergey make announcements, discuss things and take the floor for questions from anyone. About anything.
Which company's presidents or founders will allow any employee to ask questions about why they did what whey did, or why they're wearing what they are? It's brilliant fun. They're known for being crazy and uncoventional, and they take that very seriously. We saw a video when our Quaterly objectives were discussed, and the Executives of teams that didn't manage to hit good scores of performance were dunked in a dunk tank. It was hilarious.

Google's ideas and ambitions are strong, overwhelming but pure. That's why its so exciting when we think of the future and read about 'what's coming up soon.' The nicest thing is that anyone with an interesting enough idea, will get support, finance and a chance to make a brainwave into reality.

I know I'll probably quit this job in a few months. Every time I decide that I'm sure I wanna do it, all I have to do is attend a Googly meeting, and I fall in love all over again. It would be heartbreaking to leave and not be a Googler. But then, when they hire us they say that they look for Googly people. Which means I was Googly before I got here too, and will always be. Nice thought, but not consolation enough.

Quote for the day

"Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups."

- Unknown.

When things have changed so much, and you wish you could go back in time to there and then. And you know it will never be the same. That's one kind of pain.

I love(d) Michael Jackson

Man, I grew up listening to the chap. Thriller. Bad. Billie Jean. There isn't a bigger star in my head. I thought he was incredibly hot, gorgeous, and I loved his music.
When I was in the third standard, I'd come back from school and dance for an hour. To Thriller. The whole album. And the songs still have that effect on me. Billie Jean! I could dance forever. And watching him dance... His videos were always so grand, extravagent and so, so, so engaging. Entertainment. The King of.

I've had a hard time believing what I read in the news about him. I just know that he's really sick now. Sick in the head. I dunno why or how. It's ugly and sad.

But for me, he lives on in my iTunes player and still gives me a little rush and thrill.

Quote for the day

"Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."

- Mark Twain

A Photo A Day

Here at Google, we have a photography mailing list, and I read somewhere that they put up one photo that they make, everyday. Sounds fun and not too hard. So, am gonna give it a try too. But, today, not a photo I made today, but a few days ago.

Here goes, to 365 photos a year. At least.


This one is the Bombay skyline, from Marine Drive. Just because I miss home.

A life more extraordinary

I want my life to be a film. I want to save someone's life. I want to survive a calamity. I want a life extraordinary.
I want to be madly in love. I want to fight for justice. I want to stand up all alone.
I want to stand at the helm of the world's biggest ship and scream "I'm the king of the world."

Quote for the day

The tongue weighs practically nothing yet few people can hold it!

- Foxii Ryder

Horribly Hot Hyderabad

God, its so hot. And how do I get a cold when its so incredibly hot? How am I supposed to avoid cool things when its so goddamned hot? Chicken soup, and warm water... aaargh.

Ahh, for some chilled Kings, and feni. And a bit of sea air. Oh, glorious Goa. God's own acre.



Ro, lets go.

Split - P is for Pig

PIG SOCIETY

Pushed to the wall with vicious psychobabble
A cloud of rage that will grapple you
By the throat, by the balls, by the collar of a uniform shirt
Swing that handle
Swing that handle...

Pushed the wrong button, chose the wrong fucking channel
One more minute and we'll dismantle
And wreck this cage, this box, this rancid moving tin can
9.04 on the panel
9.04 on the panel

One more minute and something will blow
And who'll take credit for the blood that will flow?

Do they wanna grow, do they wanna go, do they wanna stop, do they wanna hit me?
I don't wanna give, I don't wanna take, I don't wanna stick close to the
Pig Society

Infinite crawl I feel my patience unravel
Can't hold on tight enough you will be gone
In a trice in a flash in half the blink of an eye
Hit the gravel
Hit the gravel


HOLY GHOST MACHINE GUN

And the Lord said
The Lord said
Yes, the Lord He speaks through me
The Lord said
To strike dead
You heathen swine who dare pass judgement on his humble servant

In the name of the father In the name of the son
I strike you down with my holy ghost machine gun

I have such a blasting headache that all I can bear to do is sit at my desk and watch my fingernails grow. Even music is unbearable.

Help, somebody, anybody.

Being a Parsi

I'm proud of being a Parsi. I'm part of a tribe. We're so few now, that we're officially a tribe. The days of the old glory have gone. Parsis, for a long time, but time long gone, were the most prosperous people in Bombay and many parts of India. Rich, wealthy, industrious and honest. Very successful, well read and cultured. Religious and of strong faith.

But, with time, things changed.

Parsis live to be of a very ripe old age. So, children often had grandparents and plenty of uncles, aunts and even great grandparents telling them what to do and what not. And they remained orthodox.

It's hard to point out reasons for why we are where we are today. Lots of things I guess. Parsis have, perhaps, for generations, married within the same family. In-breeding has caused many young people being born with ailments, deformities, handicap and weak constitutions. Recently, my sister lost a young Parsi friend due to a heart attack. How can a 20 year old just have a heart attack?

Another major reason is the strict marriage laws. A Parsi cannot marry a non-parsi. If he/she does, he/she is not considered a Parsi anymore. And, one can only become a Parsi by birth. It's a painful concept. And the reasons for it are stranger.

So far, I've believed them. But now, I feel silly when I explain. It's almost like a 'superiority theory'. It doesn't make sense to me any more.

Often people have told me that they're very curious to step into a Parsi fire temple. Because they aren't allowed. This always annoyed me. I always thought, if you can't go, you can't. Just leave it at that and respect it. I would still never encourage anyone to go into one. Simply because it is disrespectful to another's faith. But, I feel ashamed, about the injustice.

There are many nice things about being a Parsi. A lovely heritage to look back at, maybe. Not much to look forward to, though. When I visit a friend in a Parsi colony in Andheri, am saddened by what I see. Young people wasted. Leading mundane lives, almost as if helplessly surrendered to being 'as things are'. No more ambition, no drive to change. No rebellion. Of course, I'm as much to blame as anyone , in that case. There are a quite a few organizations for the youth, where they try to bring about changes in the directions to where Parsis are heading. And other fighting against the strict religious demands, especially for marriage, adoption. But its a difficult struggle.

I haven't been a good Parsi for ages. I haven't visited the temple, said my prayers. And other things I observe, just out of habit. I don't know if I believe anymore. Or if I ever did. It's hard coming to terms with it.

Sometimes I'm content with the ideas of Parsis dying out. Maybe its just time for us to fade away. I dunno what the future holds and I'm not quite sure what role am going to choose to play in it. But, whatever it is, it will be for the best.

Until then, I'm still happy to be a Parsi and eat Dhansak and meat, and hope that someday I'll marry a Parsi boy.

Personal Space

How can it be that some people, you get intimate with them the first time you meet, and it seems ok. And with others, it wouldn't happen in a lifetime. Just wavelength? Personal vibes?

All things RoUND

i'm very bored. so bored, that i went through all the thousands of photos on my computer and collected all the photos with anything ROUND.

Of boys and boy things

I wish I was a boy.

Bikes and cars and fist fights. Video games and wrestling. Guitars and girl friends. No questions asked and no need to look clean.

I've often wanted to be a boy. Just so that I can do as I please and not have to explain to anyone why I'm where I'm at what time. And not have my ass felt up when I'm taking a walk.

But more than all that, there's a nice, easygoing, relaxed existence for men. No pressure, no responsibility, poor memory, and they can get away with it. No explanations needed for a boy who forgot to do something.

Well, I'm just jealous of men. They got the better deal. It's just more fun being male. I think.

Ah, but, well, I wouldn't change places with any boy for anything in the world. I was just being grumpy.

A Few Things I Need to Buy

1. A laptop. Apple, preferably.
2. A GPRS enabled phone.
3. An iPod.
4. A 3 ccd video camera.
5. A 7.1 home theatre system.
6. A 70 - 300 mm zoom lens and a wide angle lens.
7. A 200Gb external hard drive.

Ah, might as well.

8. A private jet.
9. A medieval European castle, with three butlers.

Damnit.

300

Yes, everyone's talking about it. I must admit, my first verdict after I saw the film was negative.
The story - we've heard 6000 times before; the characters, I didn't fall in love with any; I didn't think there were any 'moments'; the narrative, I found choppy and too quick. I compared the film to Gladiator and the Lord of the Rings. But then, I was accused, by three different people, that I was being overtly too critical. Which is true. It's just a film after all.

So, I've decided to re-think.

Hmm, I liked it. I did enjoy the film. I wasn't spellbound, completely, but yea, partly. The super-effects are brilliant. Now that I think about it, quite a few shots and scene playback perfectly in my head.

I loved the slow motion shots of King Leonidas going slash-slash-slash.
I liked the opening sequence of the young King being trained.
The Persian king was hilarious.
I thought the scene of the Oracle was very sexy.
I liked the scene where the Queen kills the traitor.
I loved the deep, dark, endless well and the messenger being kicked into it.
I like King Leonidas' beard. Very sexy.
I like the power, glory of Sparta.

Finally, I must say that the film print at the cinema was very dark. Too dark. I'm finicky about colours and light when I watch a film. Maybe that's why I got pissed off.

I think I'll see it again.

RAMOJI

I've lived in Hyderabad for the last eight months, and hadn't visited the famous Ramoji Film City in all this while. Until last week.

Karen and Brad, of no.w.here were here in Hyderabad, and wanted to go filming in Ramoji. I decided I'd take the day off to accompany them. I fixed an appointment with the International Marketing Manager, we rented a cab for the day and set off to Ramoji.

It was a spectacular place. Larger than I imagined, sprawling over acres and acres of beautiful Andhra landscape - coconut trees, large loose rocks and tiny hills. When we arrived at what turned out to be the ticket counter, we were told that the heart of the film city was still 8km away.

We were greeted by a friendly manager, who had us refreshed with a cup of tea and then introduced us to the general manager, who heard our plan and request and then agreed to allow us to shoot at a couple of locations within Ramoji. They arranged for a coordinator to take us around in our cab and we set off.

I was at once amazed by the lovely landscaped gardens, and the neat roads with fountains and abstract statues. The coordinator was friendly and cheerful, as was, we soon found out, everyone who worked at Ramoji.

The first location/set he took us to, was a village square. Indian village square. Very nice. Small shops. Pan wala, bullock carts, stalls and small houses. All against a stunning backdrop of a steep rocky hill. Karen and Brad at once decided that they would film there.

The other location we shot at, was a lovely Hindu temple. Just the kinds you see at the movies, with white pillars and bells. The funny thing was our guide told us that the pillars were of plaster of Paris and could be taken off and moved around. So, of course, it wasn't really a temple, and there was no idol in the inner chamber. But, he insisted that we take our shoes off if we wanted to go into the inner chamber. That's the duality of our rituals and beliefs. Unreal and real at the same time.

After that, we went to an airport, a railway station, a Kings courtroom - straight out of an episode of the Mahabharata - and one location that we were really, really lucky to see.

A film had recently been shot at Ramoji and a grant set worth 1.3 crores had been created. The film was something to do with Yama - The Angel of Death and the set, was a dark chamber, ornate with golden carvings and marble floors. It was an incredible set. And the only place where we weren't allowed to take photos. But then, we were very lucky to see that set. It would soon be taken down.

But more than the large area of Ramoji and its brilliantly designed and maintained land, what we were also impressed by, was the looming legend of Mr. Ramoji. The man who owned it all.

Mr. Ramoji owned all of this. It was incredible. The film city has its own broadcasting center and owns 12 regional TV channels. They have a state of the art film processing and editing lab and post production and fully equipped sound studios. They said, all you need is to come to Ramoji with a script, and you can leave with a film.

We drove past Mr. Ramoji's house.
Brad said he was reminded of Citizen Kane. It's true. The man's aura seemed everywhere. AT the desk of an employee whose office we visited, was a photograph of him and I asked if that was Mr. Ramoji. The man, a manager of the building which held all kinds of props, fervently nodded and said, 'He's my God.' We couldn't help but be very intrigued and a bit awed by what we heard.

Ramoji Film City has existed for 8 years now. But hundred of Indian films and a handful of international films have been created with the help and magic of Ramoji. I want to make a film there. I will, I think.

More pics here.

dreams

Horizons are not enough
When dreams are unleashed.

Secret dreams.
Shared dreams.
Those unsaid. Those cherished.
Dreams born to dreams, borne by dreams.

Dressed with love.
Glittering with detail.
Castles of gold
Carpets laid out.
Landscapes of dreams.

Years awaiting, cruel longing.
Hints of betrayal.
Slivers of hope.
Moments of forever.

Then, the truth unveiled.
Stunning. Complex.

Dreams realized, but not as they were dreamed.

Here's the Sex Pistols

I love punk music. I love the idea of punk, its message and its energy.

Punk, to me, means, rebellion. Punk is when you're pissed off and its punk when you're angry.
Punk is when you don't give a fuck.

I fell in love with punk when Garreth and Mel (from the band, Split) started another band, a punk band, called ForceField. Punk is so hard-core.

They introduced me to The Sex Pistols and The Clash. And the Ramones. The Sex Pistols and The Clash, particularly, have the most rebellious energy and meaning to their music.

Here's a funny story about the Sex Pistols.

In November 1977 The Sex Pistols released 'Nevermind the Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols.' The lettering on the album sleeve was a design, crudely cut out from newspaper headlines in the same way as kidnappers' notes and hate mail were delivered. There would always be someone who was offended by this. One day, the manager of the Virgin Records shop in Nottingham was arrested under the Indecent Advertisements Act of 1889. The police said they couldn't use the word Bollocks.

Richard Branson, (whose record company, Virgin, had signed up the Sex Pistols), called a lawyer who'd helped him nearly 10 years ago on a similar charge…(for using the words venereal disease) and the lawyer said, "Bollocks? What on earth is wrong with bollocks? It's one of my favourite words." He recommended they speak to a linguistics specialist to find the exact meaning. He called up Nottingham University and spoke to Professor James Kinsley.
"So one of your staff has been arrested for displaying the word bollocks? What a load of bollocks! Actually the word "Bollocks" is an eighteenth century nickname for priests. And then, because priests generally seemed to speak such a lot of nonsense in their sermons, "bollocks' gradually came to mean "rubbish."

"So, bollocks actually means either priest or rubbish?" Richard checked to make sure he hadn't missed anything.
" That is correct."
"Would you be prepared to be a witness in court?"
"I'd be delighted."

Quoting Richard Branson: (from his autobiography, Losing My Virginity)

I enjoyed the court case. The police prosecutor was determined to win what was clearly a case of national importance. The shop manager admitted that he had prominently displayed The Sex Pistols poster. The policeman had the smug look of someone who was doing the public a great service and expected to be praised for it.

When the professor was cross examined, he explained that "bollocks" had nothing to do with testicles, but actually meant 'priests' and then - due to priest's sermons being full of it – 'rubbish.'

"So, professor Kinsley, are you saying that this expression 'nevermind the bollocks, here's the Sex Pistols', which is the basis of this prosecution, should more accurately be translated as "Nevermind the priests, here's the Sex Pistols?"

"Yes.. or it could mean, Nevermind the rubbish, here's the Sex Pistols. It sounds like a strange title for a record, but I doubt whether the Church would mind."

The prosecutor then pressed on this point, asking him how he could be sure that no clergyman would be offended.

Professor Kinsley then played his trump card, by folding down his polo neck to reveal a dog collar. Professor Kinsley was also known as Reverend Kinsley.

"That's enough," snapped the magistrate. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders and, adopting as much magisterial solemnity as he could muster, announced:
"The case is dismissed."

I miss Doggy Love. Pure, unconditional, happy.

Land Ho!

Flew to Bangalore, from Bombay, a few days ago. I like the window seat. We took off, and as we rose up into the air and flew over Mumbai, I clapped my hands, pointed out of the window and said, 'Wow, Google Earth!'