harsh in kinesphere

I know that it’s been a long time since I posted something but no one's reading this anyways!

So the aussies are coming here for a cricket tournament and this implies that cricket won’t be the only thing that we’ll be talking about for the many months to come.

Is it just me or has cricket has stopped being cricket? What I mean to say is that the sledging, link-ups and publicity stunts associated with cricket get more attention than the actual game.

No one cares about the game now; everybody is more interested in all the action off the field. And there’s plenty of it- Deepika’s with Dhoni then with Yuvraj and ultimately with Ranbir /*don’t remember him?? He’s the superstar of the century who’s acted in 2 films- a flop and a below average flick, who ‘happens’ to be a kapoor */, Sreesanth gets slapped by Harbhajan, Harbhajan calls Symmonds ‘monkey’ when he actually wanted to say ‘maa ki’. Believe it or not, all this is in the name of cricket. The phenomenon isn’t restricted to the sports section anymore, EVERYONE associated with cricket gets featured on some random article when they not launching a product or participating/ judging reality shows. Many people cried foul when Sachin Tendulkar advertised for everything from toothpaste to credit cards, but now no one seems to notice the current trend where even a one time wonder advertises about the newest insurance policy ironically tag lined –‘inspiring trust’. with over to almost all the pages of a newspaper daily. And what’s with this Twenty-20 circus??

I am not one of those obsessed crackpots who don’t have their meal if India loses or uncontrollably start swearing if their favorite player screws up, but hey cricket deserves a lot more respect.

Once upon a time, there lived a little boy in a Mumbai suburb. Contrary to the misconception, this boy was special. He could remember minute details from school and the most trivial promises that his parents broke at bed time. So one night, it was around 10.30pm, way past his bed time.

“Our craft teacher has told us to make a Greeting card tomorrow” he said.

His mother thought he was talking in his sleep, that’s what she wanted to believe. But she knew her son too well; this had happened so many times that now she’d stopped freaking-out. She looked towards her husband who was hiding his head under the blanket by now.

The mother son duo headed to the hall, she fetched everything she needed for this undertaking from a shelf that resembled a mini stationery shop.

“So what kind of greeting card is it?” she asked the boy who was sleepier than before.

“Our teacher said something about Indian integration” he murmured.

“Fine, I’ll come up with something, go to sleep. I’ll be there in a while” she said as her brain went in overdrive.

I’m not totally against craft, infact I love origami they taught us during that class. I love drawing a pond with little fish that my paper crane will eat for food, but telling a 10 year old to make a collage with newspapers is being a little kooky. Most of the craft periods in my school would have competitions like ‘Rakhi making’, ‘greeting card making’ and we’d also make different type of boxes. On one such ‘rakhi making competition’ one of my friends thought that it would be very cool if he used an Éclair /*chocolate*/ as his rakhi centerpiece. The competition results were declared and the rakhis were returned, that friend of mine was surprised to find centerpiece on his rakhi missing. “competition ka jaane de re, par chocolate kyo liya?” were his exact words.

Craft teachers go over the top and come up with innovative reasons for parents to curse them, from collage to pop sickle stick houses; no one can guess what they’ll ask for, and all such projects come bundled with the misleading line ‘Use ordinary household waste’ /*hey I didn’t know we had 100 something plastic spoons or a bag full of pencil shavings just lying around*/. I remember a Work Experience project when we had to use grains and pulses as colors. As I didn’t want to bother my parents, I generously sprinkled tur daal and chaaval I found by myself but to my mother’s horror I had knocked Dal tadka and Kashmiri Pulav off the menu /* in my defense, like a true artist I used the best I materials could find*/.

Mother hasn’t been supportive of my projects ever since.

According to Educationalists, Craft and Work Experience are meant for the overall development of the pupil as he/she has the opportunity to think creatively beyond the curriculum and observe the world we live in, but I’m sure parents have a slightly different opinion. How does the administration come up with such stuff?? For instance, my niece had to make a rainy season wear thing on chart paper. I was making rubber cutting that somewhat resembled gum-boots and my Sis-in-law was drawing clouds on crepe paper, all the while my niece jumped around singing “Ringa rainga roses, pocket full of…..” . Indeed that was a big learning experience for her/*insert sarcasm here*/.

Many people make a fortune by displaying their craft project rejects as ‘art’ and the subject is meant to improve hand eye coordination and I feel that it should be primarily be focused on class work rather than making the parents go through the ordeal. But by the time that happens, go nuts!

There are numerous reasons as to why people smoke or start to smoke, it ranges from- ‘everybody else was doing it’, ‘its cool’, ‘wanted to try new things in life /* why not castration or bungee jumping then??*/ ’, some victimized answers like ‘I was very sad after she left me’, ‘there was no other option’, my personal favorite ‘I didn’t have a habit of sitting in one place for long periods of time, so how can a person deal with stress?’/* sigh!, tears in my eyes, I could wail at your sad puppy story!*/ and there are even some vague answers like ‘just like that’, or some reverse psychology answers ‘why do you eat?’ /*except that from eating, you don’t risk KILLING someone or yourself*/.

Fine I don’t have a problem with human chimneys, but actually I do. I am the guy walking you’ll when you are indulging yourself. Do know that you STINK after you go and relive yourself; it gives people 1 more reason to hate you. The only fag-gang member that drew amazement was a 30 something lady /* a woman empowered specimen*/ who held a cigarette between her lips and signaled her colleague to light it as both of them exited the office building, while my friend whispered “call center!”

Something even more mysterious than ‘the force’ exists between them /*the fag-gang*/. The fact that they have nothing in common except smoking doesn’t matter or maybe it’s all that matters. They’ll relate to SRK and roadside bidi smoking sweeper, at the same time. Its more than a conversation piece, they practically have a club. All Sanjay Gupta movies are hit and ‘No Smoking’ deserves no less than an Oscar. It’s surprising how many people from different backgrounds you’ll know if you fag, and the numbers keep going up. They share their misadventures of the ciggy kind, like how a guy rubbed his hand in his arm-pit to get rid of the stench /*yes, I know they are gifted*/.

Hookahs are a different story all together. Those who indulge will explain you in detail the entire process to conclude that it is like breathing chocolate/strawberry/godknowswhat flavored air. For an hour they’ll feel like the nizam of Hyderabad to top it all, a single hookah is shared between 3-5 guys /*which qualifies as group kissing*/. This stuff isn’t cheap either.

Consider this simple math/*the amount is much higher if it’s an expensive cigarette brand or the no of fags per day is more*/, let’s say that a guy smokes 4 cigarettes a day each of Rs. 2.50.

Meaning everyday he spends Rs.10 killing himself, a bit.

365 days in a year, that is Rs. 3650 up in smoke, literally! And that not even charity!

NB is just an average guy, and no matter what he thinks of himself he will still be an average guy. What’s most intriguing is the way he goes out of his way to unsuccessfully convince you that he’s something special.

Couple of days back I was coming home and I met NB (wishing he didn’t have something to brag about). So we were talking about general topics like college, exams, music (yawn). But as I was making an effort to talk to him, he kept scratching his arm; I figured since he doesn’t have a hand in his pants, everybody is a winner. So after about 5 minutes, he started folding his T-shirt sleeve and looking the other way so that I could get a clear view of his arm. I caught a glimpse of some abstract shape tattooed on his arm. And I had to ask, “Did u get a tattoo?” and I just made his day! He went on to explain how tattoos are cool, I takes lot of guts to get one meanwhile I was cursing myself ‘look what you’ve done’. I patiently kept nodding and he went on and on about best places to get tattoos. It was dummies guide to crap- ultimate edition. The tattoo was, err unique in its lame way. The tattoo was what I used to draw as a kid on my favorite wall and I also remember being scolded by my parents because according to them, “that’s not a drawing!!!” Who’s laughing now? And my subconscious answered “certainly not you!!” Frankly, two dragons humping as they barbecue with their fire breath would have been a better tattoo. Then I figured that the idea must have been beyond the artist’s comprehension.

I don’t have problems with people getting tattoos but going out of one’s way to show it totally negates the whole purpose of getting it. In fact I am relieved that he didn’t get one on the small of his back or his thigh, coz that would have been traumatic.

Heard Scarlett Johansson’s single ‘Falling down’… it proves that not everyone can pull a JLo. Old Hippies (high on grass) would definitely sound better. Scarlett Johansson hasn’t heard herself sing, how else could anyone committ such an atrocity? She’s pretty, good for her…and us too!