Coming Soon!!!

November 19, 2010 6 Comments

I know, I have been lost thus long. Where, won't serve us much purpose. Though I missed you all a lot. Mwwwaaah mwaaah! I am planning a second innings [again!!??!!] in the blogosphere. Hope you will forgive me and love me again!

While, I am looking for interesting masala to mark my "comeback" entry, any suggestions would be welcome!!!

Cheers...keep watching this space for more.


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God will make a way!

June 10, 2010 , 41 Comments

There is a song, a prayer that I always hum. I sing it when I need motivation; I sing it when I need help. I sing it when I am sitting; I sing it when I am moving around. It's a beautiful prayer taught to me by my friends in Satyabhama hostel. Thanks Jessy, Thanks Nimmie, Thanks Bhavana and thanks all of you. Today, my dear blogdosts, i would like to share this beautiful song with you all. In happiness, in despair, in agony and even when you may not care. keep this song to your heart and, you will see miracles happening! Here's the divine song-


God will make a way, where there seems to be no way.
He works in way we cannot see; He will make a way for me
He will be my guide, holding closely to his side
With love n strength, each new day-Lord will make a way.
God will make a way.

When I walk in bewilderness, he leads me
Rivers in the desert, I see
Heaven n earth fades away, his words remain true always
He will do something new, today.

God will make a way!
Lord will make a way, where there seems to be no way.
Praise God!

PS: To all my dear Christian friends, I tried to keep the lyrics as original as remembered. in case, if there is any slip ups, pl forgive me. Do care to correct.

The prayer song on youtube: God will make a way

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To ma, with love!

May 09, 2010 36 Comments

Kya kar rahi meri bachchi, meri rasgulla?
Kuch nahi meri mama gulab jamun.
Meri shakkar ki bori, meri ganne ki pori
Mera aam ras, mera vanilla, mera khas-khas
Meri gulakand ki mithas, meri jalebi ka chasni
Ma, yeh tuk nahi baith rahi, pl do not break the rhyme..
Ok so take it, meri gulkand ki mithas, meri aam ki pyaas
Mera fresh kheera, meri lapsi mera seera
Meri methi malai, meri imli khatai
Meri sewai mer rabdi, meri gatta meri ker sangri
Oh no mamma, tuk nahi baith
Meri kulfi faluda, mere ripe mango gudda
Chocolate ka dabba, kesar wali kheer, shahi paneer
Kya meri dahi ki chaas, haan meri gud ki mithas
Mera aam ka panna, mera chikoo mera ganna
Meri ….

This was the conversation that took place between me and mom on phone today
We both concealed our pains and pretended to be happy
Both understood each other’s woe and both did not discuss about it
Both tried to make each other happy.
Thank you mom. Thank you for being there for me, for listening to me and understanding too.

Thank you for love, care and support- all unconditionally!

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Euthanasia

April 29, 2010 , 13 Comments

Which is better- dying a thousands deaths everyday or getting killed once?

This question hovered her for years. For years, she battled denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally accepted. She tempered her feelings with good memories than sadness. Time passed but the waves of raw emotion ceased to get reorganized. She battled darkness until one day when she succumbed to it. Her efforts paid her some momentary gain of reason but at the end they were outweighed with recurring griefs. She saw even doctors battling with gangraine until it starts spreading and they need to take harsh action to further loss. What does a loss culminates into? May be a momentary relief but a grief of lifetime.


Her gangraine had spread over her soul, corrupted her hopes of life to a cracked glass bowl. The best of adhesives cannot cover the cracks. Her china bowl has lost its beauty, its purpose. It rather started hurting her eyes everytime she glanced through them. She buried it in a metal chest, beneath the soil but it always popped up. Until one day, when she took it to holy ganges and paid her homage to Gods.

Ayehsa attained back her peace or is it something that people often say everytime her name comes.


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Walk & talk, What an Idea sirji!

March 31, 2010 20 Comments

An idea can really change your life. Snehashish, the young finance manager of our GSM arm was walking while talking on his mobile. Little did he realize that this idea would change his life and how. While chatting he got hit by a glass door and got 24 stitches near his eye- forehead area. This historic event took place at his swash apartment AKA home. Some ideas do travel like an epidemic. Another gentleman was pursuing this noble “walk & talk” health mission near our office building. A vehicle hit him and shown him “tare zameen par”.

Yours truly also became a victim of this idea. I was starting for my office when a friend called. The beginning was safe. I picked my lappie, documents, locked the house, came to street, and the next moment found myself lying on the road with “sare zameen par”. Shaken but not stirred, walked ahead, caught a taxi for office and pull all the pieces together and switched on my phone again. That night yours truly had terrible body ache. The idea really changed my life and since then I strictly avoid talking on cell phone while walking.

By the way, how does “walk and talk” helps in reducing hazards caused due to prolonged hours of talking on cell phone? I mean is radiation indirectly proportionate to motion? That is to say more you walk, the lesser the radiation. Bah! Simply say, reduce the time spent on mobile and talk in peace. Oh, that may not affect our health but definitely impact the health of telecom companies’. Their MOU (minutes of usage) will plummet, resulting in revenue arrest in the hearts of their books of accounts. This sudden flow will circulate more blood to brains and hey presto, you have won the “battle of customer’s mind”. Right Mr. Al Ries & Jack trout? What an idea sir ji!

Unfortunately, this idea suffered the voltage fluctuation and went kaput. Walking is great practice but “walk n talk”, nah! Not in India at least. How? Let us ask “Khanna aunty”. I invited her to “Twestival- Kolkata” last Friday and what followed, is a wonderful tete’ a tete with our beloved Aunty.

Keep hooked up on this space for another interesting rendezvous of “Main aur Mrs. Khanna”.

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My name is Khan

March 21, 2010 , 23 Comments

I am a Muslim and am not happy.

I am unhappy not because I am a Muslim. I am unhappy because my being “Muslim” is blown out of proportion, unnecessarily. I am unhappy, because “being Muslim” is a misused term, abused by people all around, non-Muslims and unfortunately, Muslims too. I have become a decoy to some people like politicians, fundamentalists and many others for achieving their machinations. I am being exploited. Exploited and shockingly more often by my own folks. However, exploitation is a small word in the context.

When I was born, I was alike to all Rams or Rogers born in that ward. We all wailed and kicked our way to world. Mothers gave birth to us but fundamentalism raised us. We all survive on our mother’s care and milk. Then why did rioters killed little Raghav’s mother, who was still unborn? We came to this earth nude, nothing but with our souls, but when we leave, we have everything but our soul. Then why do you add color to the cover and symbol to the soul? I am unhappy because of “You”.

When I just started sketching some colorful flowers and valleys in my sketchbook, why did you draw line and borders on it. You spoiled my beautiful picture by separating flower from valley and writing India and Pakistan names on it. Would not a flower be a flower irrespective of the valley it grows in? Would you ask a flower’s name, caste or religion before adorning it on Allah or Prabhu?

I wanted to go to school [swat valley] but you sent me to a camp. You gave a gun in my hand and a veil to my sister. Sometime innocent girls like her had to hide her face while all ugly beast around roam without any hizab?

Years passed and your discriminations become stronger. I became Sunni, Sian or Bohra; Kareem, Abdul or Mohammed but not a human. Religion is about nurturing goodwill and mitigating conflicts, but you are doing just opposite. I do not have any problem with any religion or their god. Humankind has happily coexisted even before someone segregated us into Hindu or Muslim. Distribution, as I thought was to bring the cultural diversity and add more colors to life. Unfortunately, that color is now devoid with festivity but only blood stains of innocents. When I have grown up, I liked this lovely girl and wanted to marry her. You said why her name is Radha and not ruksana? How does that make any difference to our life, happiness together, the children we have or name of God? What has religion to do with love or my being a good son to do with my choice of girl? Would she be a better human being if she were a Khan, Rehman or Ali or I a Pandit, Sharma or Kapoor?

I was told that western world is more open and approachable. One of you objected me from going there, with a tag that we are too moderate, too western, beat me up? Another one of you objected my livelihood, with a sneer and suspicion, beat my spirits up. When I go out of the country, why am labeled as fanatic because I have Pakistani name?

Terrorism has no religion, than why they call me a terrorist. ‘A’ for apple is just one interpretation of many and not a universal truth. Then why are you teaching the world “M” for “Muslim” and “Muslim” for “terrorism”? Why you have different treatment for your own citizens who create biggest frauds, manipulations, massacre in world, and still roam around loose? Your negligence is not accounted when you bring the world economy down but yours flourishing through some business even if it is ammunition.

The place you call as Hindu majority is the safest place for me in the world. There is no guarantee that I may not be killed in any nation that I may call as my own? One 9/11 and one of you out casted my entire clan. Where does this patriotism go when you support certain groups with ammunitions? Where does that empathy go when your political missions kills my innocent people?

Why blame others when some of my own people have butchered our pious religion in the name of war and hatred. There is more to love for God than beard, pajama or the appearance. I find my solace in prayers without being fanatic. I find pleasure in music and you cannot call me kaafir. To me, Azan is music, a song that I sing in praise of Allah. My Allah is not the property of you jingoists. No thanks for misinterpretations, I have Koran and can read it my own. Will you Pl stop corrupting my mind in the name of religion and jihad? Will you cease off my children and women as well?

My woman is a Muslim too. Why do you treat her differently? She is Allah’s creation and the next creator after him. Which religion teaches you to call your sister, companion, mother, daughter or a women “haraam”?

My religion, my culture is very pure and pl do not stain it with blood of innocent lives, wishes and dreams. I am very proud of my Id, namaaz and Prophet. But none of it asks me to not rejoice in other fellow’s happiness or respect someone else’ God. I was taught about the ‘oneness” of the God. So, why do you make such a furor if I bow my head in front of any non-Muslim shrine or when I celebrate a festival other than mine?


In troubled times, human always tend to resort to god as their last hope. Similarly, in today’s time, we human are constantly using it as our tool. God’s name is the resort for all problems but in today’s time why are you making it an excuse for all problems. Why? Why do you in name of god, curse the god with your petty motives?

It was mere another name for types of caste for me. Years later, it became an icon of its sort. When you demolish babri masjid, create Gothra massacre, you kill human first and then the religion.

Discrimination happens to everyone, whether it is woman, disabled, dalits or anyone. Is this a disability of any sort? If you have to discriminate, then do it for the “religiously challenged” ones, people who use religion as a mean to their motives and exploit. Pl do not manipulate my wonderful religion for your personal gains. Pl do not kill us in the name of god. Stop misleading me in the name of Islam. Stop venerating brutality in name of religion.

II am not happy, because of “You”. Its “you” who makes me, and "us", so unhappy.
PS: I have written this post long time back last year but could not post. Trust it doesn not reflect its antic-ness :)

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Forget Ajmal Kasab, MF Hussain is the new national treasure!

March 14, 2010 17 Comments

Pornography is the new art & Hindu bashing, the latest fashion: conveys MF Hussain



Maqbool Fida Hussain is a great artist, visionary and a respectful Indian citizen. His work celebrates interpretation and improvisation on the canvas. [And the so-called modernism]. A talent so unrecognized and wasted by us Indians and especially Hindus. The very proof lies in the fact that how we bigoted; inartistic, uneducated illiterate, educated illiterate, Indians harassed, victimized the great legend and pushed him to leave this raped country to find solace in a more tolerant, secular and democratic place.


After all Hinduism is not India’s “official” religion and therefore Hindu gods-goddesses are worthy enough to be painted nude, obscene and in a derogatory manner. We are prisoners of Victorian tastes and morality who do not know how to appreciate art and freedom of expression. How dare Hinduism still exist and alive in the Y2K [post 9/11] world? If it still exists, it deserves to undergo insult, hate and continuous damage. Why blame the poor nonagenarian artist alone. He was after all just trying to make money like most of us. So what if he tried to make that money by humiliating Hinduism? Isn’t that the latest fashion like Gandhi bashing? Where is the humiliation by the way? He just painted Hindu deity nudes. So what if a portion of population considers their deity as mother and father? In Fine arts it is fine to paint your parents nude, oops!! in this case someone else’s parents or parents of entire community. It is modern world, modern art for dummies. Nudity is the purest form of art. Paintings, as any art needs to be understood and not condemned. So if Hindu did not complained when their deities were caricatured into cartoons, holy songs were mutilated and other such blasphemy, then why are they making such a hue and cry now? Gosh, how intolerant Hindus can be. They should suffer and cry in silence as always. Why do they protest? It is national treason and global sacrilege.


Painting:Book::Hussain: Rushdie

Mohd. Azhar is one of the most successful captains in Indian cricket. Once while playing a match in Bihar, someone stole his cap from the stands. It was such a great loss that in a fit of emotion, he labeled all Bihari as “thieves”. Instead of giving a proper apology, he rid away crying, “I am minority, I am minority”. No body protested. The same minority-speaking person went ahead divorcing mother of his two children, his wife who apparently belong to the same community, on the pious day of ID, to marry his celebrity girlfriend. Why did nobody remind him of his song from the cap controversy? However, when MFH does something radical, it makes national fodder. Tsch.


Numbers of people leave country and migrate abroad, reason whatsoever. Damn with them, they are cattle class. MF Hussain is the only national treasure after Ajmal Kasab.

On other side of coin, a huge amount of money [in lines of crores per day] is spent on security of some handful public servants read politicians and their families. Whereas poor MF Hussain who bought so much of GDP/foreign currency to our country and basic respect to the religious belief of its people, was not given a VVIP security from government of India. Sigh. Why do we give our hard earn money to govt as taxes if they cannot buy cradle for Hussain. So what, if Digvijay Singh cannot ensure safety of non-marathis in Mumbai, he will leave no stone unturned to bring MF Hussain back to the country.


Being Hindu in India is merely equal to khakhi knickers?
Poor MF Hussain, such a man of liberal ideology and communal harmony. He did nothing offensive but we made him a scapegoat of saffron activist. He is a naughty child who just painted deities nude and how dare Hindus protest him. After all, it is more important for MF Hussain to be in India, so what if he makes a porn out of a nation’s religious beliefs to buy his phoren trips and comfort. Hindus be damned. Who has cared about them anyway? Common people, Mango people, Cattle class we are. When a suave politician like Tharoor says the word, it becomes a national offense. His freedom of expression be damned, he must have a political interest behind. All Hindus are like VHP, BJP and Bajrang dals, only politicians. It is more imperative to see Hindu issues as mere political campaigns. Hindu sensibilities and belief are mere caricature of saffron brigade. Is there any country as supportive as Qatar, which can protect the religious sentiments of Hindus? Cause India is no longer a safe place for its so-called majority group. Sigh. Someone, pl do adopt us.
“Apne desh mein hum hai pardeshi; yeh koi kya jane!


I am a Hindu, but I respect Islam too. So what if one of its followers maligned it by insulting the faith of other religion. I would never suggest MFH or anyone to paint his deity nude. Let whatever glory, beauty nudity brings; there are indeed better ways to practice freedom of expression instead. Mr. Hussain, pl feel blessed that you were born in a country like India and humiliated people like Hindus. Your leaving the nation rich and UNPUNISHED is definitely the national loss. India must win you back. How? By paying higher price for your disgusting paintings or by giving you national security? Well after this controversy, your sale is anyways going to boost and your security is already taken care in new country. Alternatively, by giving you more lead of different religion, people you can paint nude and mint money in name of artistic display and freedom of expression.


Let me have another good guess- It can be also initiated by releasing new movie of “Madhuri dhak-dhak Dixit” exclusively in India. Who is Madhuri Dixit? Taboo-taboo!

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The Eskimo kiss

January 16, 2010 , , 26 Comments

I got up to a bright Sunday morning. My entire body was tweaking with pain. I guess I need some more sleep. With half sleepy eyes, I checked my diary, thankfully no appointments today. Last week had been crazy and last night even crazier. I shrug to think about it. I have a splitting headache and need to fix some coffee for self. I looked at the wall where Apurva was standing and smiling at me, carrying a small tray of coffee in her soft, fair hands. It has been 5-6 years since Apurva came to my life.

I lost my wife Rhea in a fateful accident. With her, a part of me died too. She was carrying our baby and with them, all of my dreams aborted as well. Over the years, ma-baba pursued me to remarry and start my life afresh. It was an unfruitful persuasion as taking Rhea away from my life was impossible. Even if I want, I could not do that. The persuasion however got softer by each passing day. How can I forget rhea. She came like a breeze of fresh air in my otherwise robotic life. A life filled with blood, death, pain and sufferings. She bought life to it. I am a cardiac surgeon. I know about hearts, nerves, lungs and she breathed love into it. I am a doctor dealing with complicated medicines and cardio graphs; she cured my loneliness with her laughter, warmth and presence. I have decided that I will never let anyone take her place until I met Apurva one day or rather I should say- one night. Rhea was my life but Apurva became my destiny. Apurva’ entry was never planned; it was unexpected. It just happened one night.

I was coming back from a rural medical camp held at the remote village of Haryana. It was late in the night and I was very tired. I was tired not with my schedule but with the mindset of the people. It was a 2-week camp but a place of 200 years outdated age. It was not poor medical facilities but female infanticide, which was the major health issue there. Girl child in many Indian states is still considered a bane. Newborn baby girls are choked to death by drowning them in a pot of milk. If they do not kill them at birth, they made them to suffer a life filled with suppression, torture and humility. Apurva came from such a place.

It was half past midnight when I heard the marching sound coming from nearby river ground. I came out in my rest house balcony and saw a group of men carrying a girl and rushing towards the river basin. The girl’ mother was running behind them, pleading to let go of her daughter. The men continued to march ahead and pushed the beseeching woman aside. She fell down on stone and hurt her head. Two women rushed to her rescue and tried to take her away from furious mob. The woman half in bruise n half in blood continue to plead those monsters for her daughter. She scurried to the man holding her daughter and fell down on his foot to leave her daughter. The man pushed her away with his other leg and threatened her with dire consequences if she further tries to come between him and his machinations. I was disgusted to see such atrocity and could not help myself but took my mobile and dialed 100 immediately. I took my safety pistol in my hand and ran toward the river along with the rest house attendant. To my surprise, the man who was heading the mob was Apurva’s father. He was holding Apurva in his cruel hands and hurling abuses to her mother for giving birth to girl child. I am a doctor and cruelty of father or a husband is not unknown to me. During my course and practice, I have seen many cases of domestic violence and violence again women. I however am not going to let it happen in front of me. I stopped the crowd and confronted them. They want to kill Apurva only because she is the baby girl born to family of “son worshipper”. The gender of a child is highly dependant on father’ chromosomes, then why do we punish the mother or a child? Apurva was the 7th girl child born in to that family and that made her the 7th daughter about to be killed on the sacrificial altar of chauvinistic thinking. “Doctor Sahib, you pl do not interfere in our matter. We respect you a lot but we would not take your intervention kindly”. “I could not let you people commit this heinous crime. Pl hand the girl back to her mother”.

“No, dr. sahib, you pl stay away from this. The girl’ father himself does not want to own her, who will take her burden? Who will feed her, educate her and pay for her dowry? She will take all our lives’ money only to get married to some other family. We are very poor people and we do not want to lumber our life with another girl. They are curse. We need sons to take care of us and keep our generations moving”.

“A girl is a burden? Do not forget you all came from womb of a woman. If you keep killing girl child like this, whom will you get to marry your sons and keep your generations alive? Who says only a son can take care of his parents. A girl is no lesser than a boy is. We are the people who have created this dowry monster. If we stop taking dowry, we might stop giving it anyways. Instead educate your daughters, make them self reliant and then see how efficiently do they take care of your house”. “No sahib, these are all kitabi-gyan. Pl stay away from our internal matters”.

The argument went on for another hour until I took a stand and made a commitment, which forever changed the course of my mundane life. “I will take care of this child. I will be her father, mother everything. Don’t you dare harm this child. She is a living soul, for god sake”. The mob burst in to mixed emotions of fury, dismay and disbelief. Several hours of persuasion and threat followed and then almost at the break of the dawn, they relented.

It took few tiring days to finish the legal adoption process and another few tireless weeks to pursue ma baba to accept her too. “How will you manage beta. What will relatives say? What if when she grows up and wants to go back to her original parents. At least get married now… blah blah”, and lot of irrelevant emotional threats followed. A few months later they moved in to my small 2 bed room flat, leaving their palatial bungalow to share my burden. Sooner their worry [Apurva] became their joy of living.

I remember the moment when nurse handed little Apurva to me, wrapped in a sheet of soft woolen blanket, my darkness[dispair] has changed into a new dawn. Little girl opened her little eyes, looked at me and smiled. Her two innocent little eyes made every challenge look little in front of her pristine smile. I smiled back at her and she smiled again at me as if she is saying “Thank you”. Little did I realize that was 14th January morning, a date which took away my Rhea from me some years ago. The pain associated with that date was no longer the same. The day has suddenly become another joyful beginning for me. I lost Rhea, but found Apurva. In Apurva, I saw my Rhea. No body can take Rhea’ place in my life but then Apurva was not competing with her or anyone. She remained true to her name.

"Papa"! She quipped. On her little feet she toddled up to me, handling a little coffee mug from her toy kitchen set. “Papa, cee what I goth for you. Your ‘besth’ hot phil-ter coffee, even before granny brings her. Paapah, you musth drinkkk it before it gets cold”.

“Yes, my twinkle star. Ummm this is world’ best coffee. Bestest than dadi’s”. “Umm and you are the world’s best papa, papa” she said and rubbed her little pink nose on cheeks giving her papa the world’ bestest eskimo kiss.

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3 Idiots, Twitter & NumeroUnity

January 05, 2010 40 Comments

These days, every second person I meet, asks me one perennial question- Have you seen the movie Three idiots? However, before I could reply, they throw a bucket of advisory superlatives [another perennial object] on me- You must watch, it is an excellent, brilliant, superb-dooperb movie. “Not yet, I have though read the book and loved it too”, is my defense missile until I met Khanna aunty one day and this conversation happened-

“The book”? Oh, the movie is not as same that book, it is in news also. That Producer guy was so loud; he said “shut up to the journalist”. How outrageous these film people are”.

“Aunty, he just said shut up to a person in fit of emotional turbulence. It is just a plain shut up… “No no, how dare someone can say shut up to media yaar! If media shuts up, all these films will shut down [and vice versa]. These filmmakers have grown too big for their boots; they live on the money that we pay to watch their stupid movies, download some ringtones, merchandizes etc. But this 3 idiots movie was nice ha. Nevertheless, that does not mean a producer can humiliate any journalist that way”.

“True, I agree aunty but the poor chap, he has apologized to media later”. “Yes he is a poor chap; see what that publicity hunger writer bhagat singh is doing to him. He is claiming the movie to be his own story and trying to earn more money for his paperback books”.

“Aunty his name is Chetan Bhagat and he is not wrong, as the story is taken from his book only. Moreover, he is one of best selling Indian author and may not need such a cheap publicity”. [Producer of VVC films is poor. Since when?]

“No- no beta, you do not know these people. He already took big fat money from the producers and now the movie is super hit, he is black mailing to get more money and awards. That munnabhai guy wrote this story. What is his name I forgot, ya Raju Chopra. Is he Yash chopra’s brother?”

“His name is Abhijat Joshi and he has written the screenplay for the movie. The basic plot however, is from the book. By the way, have you read the book aunty? It was an amazing book”.

“No, no who has such time to read such big books on engineering colleges. They said on TV that the movie very different from that book”. “Who said that movie is different from the book, aunty? Media is on author’s side”

Arre, Media to kuch bhi bolti hai. Aamir khan is saying and I know, Amir Khan is never wrong. See he saved poor Indian farmers from paying tax to British, helped poor mental child and even fought that Ghazini villain who killed his girl friend. He is so cute.”

“Aunty, he is a good actor and was just essaying the role and that child was not mental, he has symptoms of Dyslexia.” “You mean to say beta that my Aamir Khan is lying?”

“No aunty, ‘your’ Aamir khan is not lying. He has not read the book and therefore he should not intervene in this.”

“Then why Aamir Khan said that author is shrewd? He must have read that book otherwise why he would poke his nose. Are they doing it to promote the movie?” “No Aunty, the movie is so good that it does not need any publicity. Why Aamir is doing this, we do not know. All I can say is unless…

“No but I know that Bhagat person is lying. The movie is very different from the book, I heard. In the movie, two side heroes go out in search of their college friend main hero and this was not there in the novel. The author is saying so to sell more books, get bigger money, and go to Hollywood”.

“Aunty that book is already a best seller for some last five years. The writer has launched 3 more books after that and all of them were best sellers. In fact, they have already made a movie on his second book. The controversy is point less, except the makers, a million people has read the book agrees that story is from book. Moreover, scenes in a movie will be different from the chapters in the book as the medium of story telling is different. The basic plot remains same as the story of 3 boys who came from different backgrounds meets each other in an engineering college and their years there.”

Hmmm betaji is movie mein bhi aisa hi hai but book mein nahi likha hai na ki dono dost teesre ko dhoondne jaate hai”. “Aunty, a book can be adopted but can not be completely copied as in a movie, a story is the writer’s imagination and a movie, a director’ vision.”

“Woh to thik hai but if this writer is that good then why did he make that crap call centre movie? Main aur Mr. Khanna went together to see this movie, together hamare head mein headache ho gaya. Khamkha waste of Rs 600 on PVR ticket. Hum to sallu ko dekhne gaye the but heard that he was also angry with the film. If this Chopra had seen that movie, he would never have taken this bhagat singh guy. I have heard that this writer writes books only for small town non English population and he has no literary sense.”

“Auntyyy [by this time I got my head mein headache], Chetan Bhagat just gave the story from his book- One night at call centre and not directed the film. Moreover, the film failed, not story. One failure does not mean that a person cannot start again. This writer is one of the best selling, widely popular English authors in India and that is more important than how many alliterations are in the first page of a novel”.

“Hmmm you are right but this writer signed the contract and agreed then. That Raju Chopra has even uploaded the contract on his website. I even saw writer twitting away to glory about the movie, director and everyone. So why is he making so much of fuss now, why was he quite all this time?”

“You are right aunty and I guess that is the basic issue. No, not about you being right but the entire episode of washing the personal linen in public. Both the parties should sort out the issue maturely instead of calling each other dirty names. Writers and filmmakers need each other and stirring pointless controversies like these will only add to creative loss. By the way aunty did u say twitter, are you on twitter? What will you do there, I mean wow what is your twitter id?”

“Hee he beta, you know na these days every body who is anybody, is on twitter. I never used to understand all this bird-whale business until I heard that apna favorite Shah Rukh Khan has also joined this twitter. Since then I cannot stop myself and requested your uncle to teach me. Funny as there was a time when my grand mother’s grand mother use to send messages via pigeons and now after 100 years, am sending message through this virtual bird err Is it pigeon or sparrow? Whatever, I am so glad that I can talk to my children pinky- sonu via twitter. God bless this twitter bird, for now I need not have to knock sonu’ room ask him to eat, I just send him tweet. My daughter is doing her masters through distance learning course via twitter. She says- ma its kewl! Sach mein beta, bhala ho twitter walo ka. Kewl must be one of her professors. Arre you also do lot of that what blocking things on Internet na, what is that?”

“That is blogging aunty and Kewl is not any college professor but it means cool but please do not ask what does that mean [my readers must be already growling]”.

“Oh! Blogging right. Your mom was telling that you were picking well and then you started playing some stupid farm games and keep hooked to it all the time. She was telling how many people were telling that you are very good writer and asked you to continue writing and turn author like many other blockers do”.

“Bloggers aunty”. “Yes, I heard how people first write blogs, become authors and publish their books. Who know you can be next Chetan Bhagat. However, I still think that he is the culprit as my Aamir khan is never wrong. See he saved Indian farmers from paying tax…

“Aunty, we discussed na that with due respect to actor, he should abstain from commenting as he has allegedly not read the book yet”. [Also, people ask me to write books as I write long posts [like this] and they get bored. I am no talented].

“Yes beta, you are so right. These people should call a neutral party may be someone like you to compare and help resolve the conflict without having any vested interest, why like you, may be you as you explained it so nicely to me. Warna mein kya-kya sochti. BTW beta, you must be on twitter also na. What is your “alias”? Mine is- My-name-is-Khanna; add me as friend”.

“Sure aunty. I would hee he love to help them resolve this conflict n regain peace. [Is a certain Mr. VVC listening :0)] In addition, my twitter id is- Numerounity! Tweet tweet tee hoo!

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