Agent Nati Binodini - Part 2

“পরবর্তি স্টেশন ময়দান” ঠীক যেন মেট্রো’র দরজা টা আমার জন্য ই অপেক্ষা করছিল|এবং ভেতরে ঢুকে বসা’র জায়েগা ও পেয়েগেলুম|তীন কাপ দার্জিলিং টি-এর পর দুপুর’এ ঝিমন’র বেপার টা মাথা তে না আনা টাই ভাল, যদিও ক্ষীদে ও পেয়েছিল ভালোরকম| নন্দা বার বার Flury’s এ খাওয়ার কথা বলছিল, কিন্তু আমি-ই না করলুম – প্রথম বারেই একজন অচেনা ক্যান্ডিডেট-এর কাছ থেকে এত সুযোগ নেওয়া টা আমার পুরুষার্থ এর ওপর হয়েত খূব বড় প্রশ্ন| নাকতলা স্টেশন আস্তে মিনিট কুড়ি সময় ছিল প্রায়, তাই ল্যাপটপ টা বার করে সুনীল চ্যাটার্জী’র পিএ’র পাঠান email টা আবার পড়তে লাগলুম – ‘tall, and preferably dusky girls would be great’| এখনো অবধি যে কটা মেয়ে দের সিলেক্ট করছিলুম, নন্দা কে দেখে মনে হল সে ওদের সবার উর্ধে – চেহারা এবং কথা বার্তা দুই তেই| নাহলে সাত সকালে আমাকে চমকে দেওয়ার ক্ষমতা খূব কম লোকে রাখে|

অন্য বড় শহরের তুলনা-এ হয়েত কলকাতা সেই ভাবে ইঁদুর দৌড়ে পেরে ওঠেনি গত বছর দশেকে, তবে যতটুকুনি হয়েছে, তাতে আমার লাভ ই হয়েছে সেটা বলা ভূল হবেনা| এবং জাঁক যমক এর সাথে জঞ্জাল গুলো নতুন নতুন আকার নিয়েছে, সেগুলো কে সরাতে গেলে নতুন ধরনের কায়েদাও লাগে| সেইজন্য একটি সাদামাটা detective agency চালালে টা কোনও দিন ও হবেনা| সেইজন্য একটি মডেল্লিঙ্গ এজেন্সি’র সাজ নিয়ে নেমেছিলুম বাজারে ছ বছর আগে| আর চারটে লোক হয়েত এই ভাববে যে এই বয়েসে বিয়ে ঠ না করে মেয়েবাজি করে বেরাছে| কিন্তু আসল মেয়েবাজ র যে একেবারে অন্য রকম মুখোশ পড়ে বসে থাকে, সেটা আর কজন জানতে গিয়েছে? আমার কাছে যেয়ে মেয়েগুলো কাজ চাইতে আসে  – তাদের কাজ পাইয়ে দেওয়ার পরিবর্তে আমার কমিশন বলতে শুধু জঞ্জাল গুলো কে জাল এ ফাসিয়ে দেওয়ার রাস্তা টুকু – সে একটা ক্যামেরা ফোনে এ তোলা ছবি ও হতে পারে অথবা একটি HD ভিডিও| কিন্তু আমার ব্যবসা যদি ডিটেক্টিভ এজেন্সি নয়ে – তাহলে আমার ক্লায়েন্ট আসে কোথা থেকে? এবং মেয়ে গুলো কে কী আমি শুধু নিজের স্বার্থেই পথই? দ্বিতীয় প্রশ্নের উত্তর হয়েত অনেকটা তাই, তবে আমার কাজ হয়ে যাওয়ার পর আমি প্রায়ে ওদের সবার জন্য আরও বড় এজেন্সি তে কাজ এর ব্যবস্থা করে দি – এবং তাদের সঙ্গে আমার চুক্তি আছে যে তারা ওদের দিকে ভুল চোখে তাকাবার চেষ্টা ও করবেনা – কারণ তাদের মালিক এর মেয়ে কে আমি এরকম-ই একটি জঞ্জাল-এর কাছ থেকে বাচিয়ে ছিলাম – টা সেই কৃতজ্ঞতা বোধ টা ওর রেখেছে|

আর প্রথম প্রশ্ন – আমার ক্লায়েন্ট আসে কোথা থেকে? সত্য তো এই যে তারা আসেনা নিজে থেকে – আমি তাদের খূজে বার করি – খবরের কাগজ এবং TV news থেকে|জঞ্জাল গুলো যখনই নিজের নোংরা হাথ দেয়ে কোনও মেয়ের ওপর, আমার অ্যান্টেনা গুলো যেন নিজের থেকেই ক্লায়েন্ট এর বাড়ি গিয়ে তাদের সাহায্য করতে| আমি কী পাগল যে এই যুগে নিজের সব কিছু ছেড়ে সমাজ এর কল্যাণ করতে চলেছি? তা একটু পাগল বটে, তবে এর পরিবর্তে একেবারে কিছু যে পাইনা তা ঠীক নয়ে, সেই পরিবার গুলো’র ভালোবাসা পেয়ে তহ বুঝেছি আপনজন কার হয়ে| ছোট থেকে শুধু বুঝেছি বাবা কাজের পরে বাড়ি না এসে ওই আমার ছাড়া যে কোনও মহিলা’র কাছে যেত, এবং মা সেটা দিনের পর দিন না সজ্জ করতে পেরে একদিন বঁটি তা একদিন বাবা’র ডান হাথ-এর ওপর চালিয়ে দিয়েছিলো...

“পরবর্তি স্টেশন গীতাঞ্জলি” তীন কাপ চা খাওয়া সত্তেও প্রায়ে ঝিমিয়ে পড়েছিলুম| কোনরকমে ল্যাপটপ টাকে বন্ধ করে স্টেশন এ নেমে তাড়াতাড়ি বাড়ি দিকে হাঁটা দিলুম| একবার মনে হল হয়েত কেউ আমায়ে ফলো করছে, তারপর ভাবলাম “না, ক্ষীদে তা বেশি- পেয়েছে মনে হয়ে” বাড়ি পৌছে মাইক্রোওয়েভ এ আগে কর দিন-এর ফ্রায়েড রাইস তা গরম করতে করতে ল্যাপটপ এ সুনীল চ্যাটার্জী’র ওপর Google সার্চ কঢ়্লুম, এবং রেজাল্ট গুলো প্রায়ে সব ই চোখ এড়িয়ে যাচ্ছিল, শুধু কয়েক মাস আগে তার একটা শো-এর ঘটনা নজর তা কেদে নীল...

ক্রমশ 

Agent Nati Binodini - Part 1

“তা কেমন আছেন মশাই!” চা এর ভাড় এ চুমুক টা দিতে না দিতেই দেখি একটি অল্প বয়েশি মেয়ে আমার দিকে হাত নেডে হাসছে| যদিও এরকম ঘটনা আমার সাথে যে আগে ঘটেনি টা নয়ে, তবু ও কিরম জানি একটু অবাক ই লাগলো | তাও সব রকমের ধারনা মনে থেকে সরিয়ে দিয়ে উত্তর দিলুম, “ভালই, তবে আপনাকে ঠীক চিনলুম না জে....” মেয়েটি আমার দিকে এগিয়ে এশে বললো “টা ঠীক, না চেনা’র ই কথা, অরম ভাবে একজন আছেন পুরুষ মানুষ কে রাস্তার মাঝখানে হঠাত্‍ করে আমার মত একজন আধ-পাগলী এশে তাড়া করলে হয়েত তাই হয়ে| টা আগুন হবে নাকি?” দেখি আমার সাথে কথা কথা বলতে বলতে মা লক্ষীর দুটি সুন্দর আঙ্গুলের মাঝখানে একটি ক্লাসিক মাইল্ড নড়া চড়া করছে| এবং মা লক্ষী সে বটে, পরনে তার একটি  ঢপ ধপে সাদা শার্ট এবং নীল রঙের জীন্স – দুটোই কোনও শীতলঘর শপিং মল এর সন্তান মনে হয়ে, এবং পুরুষ দের আকর্ষিত করার জন্য শার্টের প্রথম দুটি বোতাম খোলা, যাকে আজকাল কার ছেলে মেয়ে গুলো বলে ‘hotness factor’, এবং তার সুন্দর কাল চুল টাকে অত্রীরিক্ত যত্ন নিয়ে বাঁধা, আর কপালের ওপর আটকানো সাংগ্লাস্স টি যেন তার চুলের বাঁধন এর রক্ষা করছে| তাঁর মুখটি জে খূব সুন্দর টা হয়েত বলা যাবে না, তবে চোখ একটি চাপা রাগ, এবং অল্প শ্যাম বর্ণে তাকে সেটি ওই নভেম্বর এর সকালে মানাচ্ছিল বললেই ভাল|

এইসব ভাবতে ভাবতে পাঞ্জাবীর পকেট থেকে কোনও রকমে লাইটার টি বারকরে মা লক্ষীর সিগারেট টি ধরিয়ে দিলুম|জামা কাপড় দিয়ে দেখতে গেলে কিরম যেন নিজেকে একটু ভিখিরি মনে হচ্ছিল, তবে এই পেশা এ টিকে থাকতে গেলে সেটি জে একটা occupational hazard মেনেই চলে এসেছি এত বছর ধরে| কেসের পর কেস নামাতে গেলে জে ভীড়ের মধ্যে মীশে যাওয়াটাই সবার আগে দরকার, সেটি যদি গিরীশ চন্দ্র ঘোষ না বোঝে, টা বুঝবে বাপু? শুনেছি আজকাল কর মেয়ে গুলো নাকি আমার মত সাদা মাটা পুরুষ মানুষ দের প্রতি অকর্ষিত হয়ে বেশি, কথা টি জে কত টা সত্য সেটি এই মা লক্ষীর আগমন এর আগে ঠীক বুঝছিলুম না মনে হয়ে| মুখে থেকে যেন বেরিয়ে-ই আসছিল, “তা মা লক্ষী, হটাত্‍ এত ভাল দেখতে সব পুরুষ মানুষ ছেড়ে আমার সঙ্গে আড্ডা দিতে এলেন কেন?” কিন্তু কোনও রকমে নিজেকে সামলে বললুম “আপনার মনে হয়ে বেশ জরুরী দরকার আমার সাথে”| মেয়েটি মুচকি হেসে বললো “কী করে বুঝলেন?” “সেটি না জানলে আপনি আমার কাছে আসতেন না মনে হয়ে” আবার হাসি, “ঠীক ধরেছেন মশাই| তা দরকার টি রাস্তা’র ওপারের Barista-এ বসে আলোচনা করলে কিরম হয়ে?” “ভালই হয়ে, যদিও আমি কিন্তু চা প্রেমী”

কফী শপ এ বসে দার্জিলিং টী এবং capuccino’র চুমুক দিতে দিতে নিজেদের আলাপ গুলো সারা হল| মেয়ে টি নিজের বাগ থেকে একটি কার্ড বার করে আমার দিকে এগিয়ে দিল| Girish Ghosh’s Angels, বেশ কয়েক দিন আগে ছাপানো, কালীঘাট এর একটি ছেলে – আমার একটি কোনও ক্লায়েন্ট আর ভাই – বানিয়ে দিয়েছিলো| কার্ড দেওয়ার পর থেকে মেয়ে আসার সংখ্যা একটু বেড়েছিল ঠীক ই , তবে তাদের কাজের প্রতি টান তা মনে হয়ে কমছে| এবং তাদের দশ দেব না, কারণ ইদানিং কালে কলকাতা শহর আর সেইরকম ভাবে জঞ্জাল মুক্ত নেই| নতুন বাড়ি, নতুন গাড়ি, নতুন আনন্দ করার জায়েগা, এবং তার সঙ্গে আয়ীন কানূন এর পিণ্ডি চটকান| তাতে collateral damage হয়েত এক আধ বার হতে পারে, কিন্তু প্রত্যেক বার একটি করে বলি’র পাণ্ঠা জোগাড় করলে পরে আমার ভদ্র সমাজে বাস করে অসম্ভব হয়ে যাবে|

চা এর আরেকটি চুমুক দিয়ে মেয়ে টি কে তার নাম জিগেশ করলুম, যাতে মা লক্ষী বললেন “নন্দা”| নাম টি জে ফাও সেটি বুঝতে আমার দুই সেকন্ড ও লাগলো না, তবে সেটা ফাঁস না করে তাকে প্রশ্ন করলুম “তা নন্দা, আপাতত আমার কাছে কোনও নতুন অফার আসে নি, তবে তোমার মুখ টি দেখলে হয়েত যেকোনো ডিজাইনার লাফিয়ে উঠবে তার শো তে তময়ে নিতে” মুচকি হাসি এবার আরেকটু বেড়ে সে বললো “তা বটে, তবে শুনেছি দু সপ্তাহ পরে সুনীল চ্যাটার্জী’ একটি শো আছে, তাতে যদি সব মডেল দের লিস্ট না রেডি হয়ে গিয়ে থাকে, তাহলে আমার কথা তা ভাব যেতে পারে কী?” সুনীল চ্যাটার্জীর শো করলে জে কোনও মেয়ে’র ব ভবিষ্যত্‍ তুঙ্গে চলে যাবে সেটা নিয়ে কোনও সন্দেহ নেই, তবে নন্দা’র কথা গুলো শুনে যেন মনে হল সেই হয়েত উল্টে সুনীল কে ধন্য করতে চলেছে তার শো করে| আমার কার্ড তা’র দিকে চেয়ে থেকে বললুম “মতামটি সব নাম ফাইনাল হয়ে গিয়েছে ঠীক ই, তবে একটি মেয়ে বলছিল তা’র মা বাবা নাকি ওসব মডেল্লিঙ্গ পছন্দ করে না, তাই ভাচিলুম যদি তা’র জাএগায়ে তোমাকে নেওয়া জায়ে”

নিতে তো আমাকে ওকে হবেই, কারণ আমি জনতুম তাতেই হয়েত আমাদের দুজন কার ই দরকার মিটবে...

ক্রমশ

Warmth in the cold play

Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul, on which they mightily fasten.

- Plato in The Republic 

Over the last few days, like the last few weeks, months and years, I have been looking to deal with any kind of stress with three things that I find myself comfortable with: photography, writing and music (only listening to it that is). And in this post I want to write about the third area, something that I've never attempted before. Don't worry, it's not about the healing powers of music, but surely about the magic that one band creates - and a lot of us are familiar with the name - Coldplay. In Dhonispeak, wellofcourse, there is nothing new that can be written about Coldplay. But in my defence, all I can say is that this is probably the first time I'm attempting to write about a musical group, or music at all, and the effect that it has on my life.

Led by frontman Chris Martin, this alternative rock (or any genre that you deem fit) band from England has come a long way indeed. And so has my idol worship for Martin & Co gone up. Be it the timbre of Martin's voice or the unusual sounds that Coldplay manages to produce, there is *that* mystical stone locked away in some deep chamber of their instruments and voices, that makes them magical indeed. Like any good band, Coldplay has songs for every mood known to humans. But, the net result on our neural networks and cardiac compartments is the same: bucketloads of positive vibes that you just cannot afford to ignore. And it could be a half a dozen or just one song from their repertoire that you want to listen to, over and over again. A very good example here is Fix You, one of my favourite tracks, which starts off like a melancholic melody but goes on to transform itself into a peppy church choir-type number.

 
Besides, Fix You is one of those Coldplay songs that I don't mind listening to over and over again. And this number deserves special mention more because in the age of social networking, a lot of my friends on Twitter and Facebook (you know who you are) have recommended this song to me whenever I've been down in the dumps. And I've smiled everytime I've listened to their recommendation, knowing fully well that I've heard the song many times before. It's like that warm hug from someone special which you always look forward to.

Along similar lines is The Scientist from the album A Rush of Blood to the Head, which is one of the hugely popular Coldplay tracks, and is something that I search for on YouTube or on my iPod playlist whenever I want to start my day the possible way. And this one stands out with its beautiful lyrics - again not failing to bring a smile on your face.

And of course, when it comes to good sound with beautiful lyrics, who can forget tracks like Speed of Sound, Clocks, The Hardest Part from the albums X&Y and A Rush of Blood to the Head (not in that order though), or even their first big single - Yellow. Their experiments with sounds is something I noticed (and that's just me, may have happened earlier) first in Talk from the album X&Y, which also had a funny video to go with it. In fact, it remains one of the most intriguing Coldplay songs for me yet. This is a song I listen to whenever I want to intentionally twist things in my head.

On more of the wacky sounds, I feel the tempo picked up in the album Viva la Vida or Death and all his Friends, though the title track of this album again has very meaningful lyrics, with highly relevant intonations for this chaotic world that we inhabit. But, in their latest album Mylo Xyloto, released last year, the band seems to have really pushed the envelope in its experiments with sound. Which is why, on hearing some of the track first, I was shocked and outraged in equal parts and kept on asking myself: "Is this the Coldplay I've grown up listening to?". I even got into some arguments with my social networking friends because of this! But all the rage subsided when I went beyond the outer layers that the accompanying lyrics gave meaning to the unusual sound. And that applies to most tracks in the album - be it the more prominent Paradise, Every Teardrop is a Waterfall or Charlie Brown (the video for which was incidentally released on my birthday) or the slightly lesser prominent Princess of China (featuring Rihanna) and Major Minus (and I was listening to the last two on loop while writing this post).

 

Why am I writing this? Just to pay my own tribute to Coldplay? Maybe yes. But as I see it, for someone who has phases in his music listening that swing from progressive metal to dark trance and dubstep, Coldplay seems to be one of the few bands out there that has been a constant in my playlists. Of course, there are so many more bands which experiment with sound, produce songs with splendid lyrics that are rendered by voices as beautiful as Martin's (if not more). But as I said earlier, their is *that* mystical power in the works of Coldplay that makes fans like me stick on to them, no matter what. As a fanboy, let me add the mandatory sentence that "I'm sure Coldplay will continue to create magic like this in future as well." But more importantly, as my friends on Twitter are aware by now, if there is on shrine I had to build, it would be for this band, because for timeless songs like theirs, no one would mind being "stuck in reverse", would they?

Just so you know

For the last 24 hours or so, I've been experiencing a strange mood swing, the exact cause of which I'm yet to pinpoint (maybe slow internet or too much internet). And as usual, that foul mood ended up manifesting itself in my tweets as well, much against my wishes. You could say this is a weakness on my part, or that I have 'no life' and end up taking social media too seriously. Well, you are right for the most part, just that I do have a life outside Twitter and Facebook, maybe that part of my life has reduced in size considerably over the last few years. Yes that has been a shortcoming on my part - to not build an alternative life offline. And this is probably not a kind of blogpost you will expect from someone who gets by with mostly flippant or funny tweets 24x7.

Due to my bad mood, I ended up not replying or sending sarcastic replies to some people whom I interact regularly with on Twitter. But most importantly, I ended up doing something totally against my social media character - I added protection to my tweets. A lot of you asked me why I did it. Well, all I can tell you is that there are some of you out there who take Twitter in the diametrically opposite way that I do - too casually. Honestly, even I may Twitter too casually at times. But that's where the difference is. Hence, such kind of people feel that if a person comes online with a certain persona, that should stick to him or her for the entire duration of his or her social media existence. Hence, if I am someone who cracks jokes often, that's what I should be doing as long as I tweet, and if I happen to say anything on the serious or emotional side - it should be dealt with as you do normally - in a flippant manner. And of course, there is the more well-known category other than me which takes social media too seriously - trolls. Of course, trolls should not be taken seriously, and are only here to rile us, so that they can have their share of fun. But, if we go through a typical analysis of a troll, a lot of written material on which is available on the internet, we may across this conclusion mostly that a troll is possibly a freckled teenager or a lonely housewife trying to make use of their abundant free time by spewing venom on others. Well, I've been guilty of trolling some social media or even real life celebrities/brands on Twitter myself. But in my defence, the number of instances have been far less than your average troll.

Coming back to my mood swing, I'm taken aback at this turn of events myself. And I'm genuinely sorry for my rash behaviour all this while. Maybe this is some kind of confession oriented blogpost but I felt the need to do it, hence. Also, I can't thank the person enough (you know who you are) who took the effort to calm me down via DMs (not to say rest of my Twitter friends are insensitive, since others have helped me out on other occasions as well). And I sincerely apologise to those who had to bear the brunt of my mood swing. As I write this, I'm trying my best to come out of this phase. After reading this, a lot of you may suggest that I take some time off Twitter and focus on my offline life more. Maybe I will do that, but let time be the best judge of that. Unlike a lot of talented people out there who I know, I'm not capable enough to hide my emotions or lead a completely impersonal online life (not being sarcastic). Maybe I should work towards that, but till that happens, hope all of you out here in the world of 140 will continue to accept me the way I am and not expect too much from me. Thank you all.

When Words form Bonds

As they often say, tweeting killed the blogging star. This need not hold true for some really prolific bloggers I have come across, but this surely holds true for me! Which is why I decided to drop by my own blog (*removes yet another cobweb*) and scribble something. Let me warn you well in advance that this is yet another blogpost on yet another Twitter's user's experiences, albeit a bit specific in its context. So, it's perfectly alright for you to start yawning right away (since I'm hoping that you will still read it).

This year on Twitter has been about two things for me: meeting a lot of my Twitter contacts offline and engaging in conversations on varied topics with them, online as well as offline. And I'll talk about a specific kind of online interaction I've been having, even though conversations tend to lapse into the zone of predictability many a time. I'll talk about my interactions with women on Twitter. Nothing new here, but still worth penning down my thoughts on probably.

No blogpost is complete without its share of quotes that make the author look like a thinking woman's sex symbol. Ok, maybe that is stretching it a bit too far but then, it's #ok. So, on the subject of women, while a lot of writers, artists and the likes have said a lot of things, one of my favourites is by the inimitable Groucho Marx, who said: "A man's only as old as the woman he feels." I feel this holds true for social networks more than anywhere else these days. Such a notion as an age barrier becomes extinct in the blink of an eye, be it same or opposite-sex interaction. But when talking to a woman, online or offline, how many times has a man not asked himself - "how should I temper my interaction with her, with regard to her age and relationship status?". Ok, leave out the exceptions and then think about it. Since the start of this year, I've talked to women of various ages, backgrounds, temperaments etc. And trust me, I have asked myself this question every single time. What a woman wants from a man and vice-versa are the subjects of much broader discussions. What I want to talk about here is that aura of mystery that surrounds so many women I've spoken to on Twitter, and the occasional surprise that comes with it.

Some of them choose to show their real identities (faces and names) here, some of them don't while some straddle the twilight zone. And the third category is what is most intriguing (not to say the other two don't hold any significance - since I'll come to them later). The partial revelation of information is what provokes the senses - the cropped picture of a smiling face, or a backless dress with a tattoo, the swing between the philosophical and the mundane realities of life in their tweets, and so on. It begins with one loaded tweet about that funny thing called 'life', or just a simple flattery about the eyes or the nose ring. They see it, and some way or the other, it tickles their thought process. They want to talk, but from a guarded perimeter. And thus, I (or many men) want to probe further through the route of DMs. Then they let you into their Facebook pages or Gtalk IDs, finally culminating in a phone conversation (since offline interactions are still fewer in number).

On the other hand, the other two categories - the completely anonymous and the completely open - tend to make things much clearer. But, with some skills, there are hidden codes that can be cracked in those instances too. For example, in the case of one girl who once opened up about herself in a Gtalk chat and also accepted my Facebook request. It turned out that she is a college-going girl who goes to college and is gorgeous in every sense of the term. Apart from the fact that she has the mix of a girl-next-door image as well as smartly-cheesy thoughts. But, my first four serious interactions were with those who belong to the third category. And there is something that binds all of them together - they have or they seem to be undergoing a lot of turmoil in their lives. All of them have opened up to me to a great extent, which is why I can say that I see an innocent soul caged in all of them, maybe inadvertently. I have met one of them offline as well, while one of them lives many seas away and has promised to meet me some day...

Hence, it should come as no surprise that a more frequent interaction I'm having these days is with someone who comes from the third category. There is so much I've come to know about her, and there may lie the promise of knowing more, since she has urged me to meet her in more than one conversation. But, interestingly, I've been talking to some a lot who happen to be from the first category - open about their identities and quite confident (this is not intended to belittle those who don't want to share all information publicly). Again, I've met one of them offline as well. She is one with whom you will be equally comfortable playing a game of dumb charades as well as discussing life and its meanings. Almost every photograph of her shows her smiling like a cherubin and makes you want to wish a hug from her. Then, there is one who as beautiful in her looks as well as well as words. She has a way with making words dance to her tunes, and someone who you would want to look up to when you hit a low at times. She takes flirting by vagabonds like me in her stride, never making you feel guilty about it - but not making any exaggerated moves at the same time. And lastly, there is one whose eyes do all the talking, who lives in the same city as me - and observes my words with precision every time. I want to interact with her more, because I see that spark in her like I do in the others.

It could be pointed out that I've ended up indirectly writing a stalkers' guide. But, it has not been my intention to do so in the least. All I have tried to do is be honest about my experiences, while taking care not to disclose the Twitter handles of those whom I've talked about here. I'm sure those who have been discussed here have understood it, and please excuse me ladies if I've said too much! I like each of them for one or maybe a few traits that are unique to them, since it has also reaffirmed my notion about attraction in the virtual space. And that is - if you choose to like a woman with whom your first interaction is online - do not attempt to stand out from the crowd just because you have to. Because, at the end of the day - life goes on amidst the crowd only.

Why Chetan Bhagat is a genius

Chetan Bhagat - the man whom social media loves to hate, with a lot of passion. I may not be the first or the last person composing a blog post to talk about this. But, since his latest book is out, why would I not want to encash the opportunity to talk about the man who has probably learnt to incite hate so effortlessly in the online world? And that is where, his genius lies. And I have two arguments to defend that.

My first explanation is based on social media itself. Twitter - probably the most powerful social network today - thrives a lot on the concept of hashtags, which can stimulate the nervous system of millions without the need to pump a drop of chemicals in the body. One of these hashtags a couple of years ago went by the name of ChetanBlocks - where Mr Bhagat, or CBag, as he is affectionately known to the online world - went about blocking anyone or everyone who showered any kind of reverse compliment on him on Twitter. The hashtag was in vogue for quite some time and has been brought back to life in various avatars since. But this is just one of the instances where he had to take the brickbats, which go to the extent of questioning his IIT credentials. More recent instances included his comments on childbirth and arguments with a technology tycoon. And of course, who can forget the 3 Idiots incident. In all this, what we may or may not have missed is that this was a very sophisticated ploy of going viral on the internet. Ladies and gentlemen, not for a moment am I saying here that the only way to gain someone's attention is to utter garbage all the time. But, take a look at the Twitter conversations around you - locally or globally - isn't it the negative that catches your attention most of the time? From a Poonam Pandey and KRK to a Charlie Sheen and a Sarah Palin. We love to heap scorn on the numerous reality shows on television that are an assault on our senses (and our rightly so). But, the TRP meters of the channels also go in hyperactive mode, mostly northwards. You may say that debate/talk/argument on such issues on social media is the world's way of cleaning up the system. But, look again - how many talking about such entities are actually more interested in reforming rather than finding some entertainment online? Alright, teaching celebrities how to talk may not be a subject of national importance, but pardon me, I was just having fun :)

And this is apart from the fact that an entire Twitter account based on Mr Bhagat's parody has a huge following (since I have met the person concerned in real life, nothing personal against you mate!). In short, there's no publicity like negative publicity - as the likes of KRK, Taslima Nasreen and Poonam Pandey have successfully learnt from Mr Bhagat.

My second argument tends to be more academic. In my professional capacity once, I had attended a talk given by Mr Bhagat once - where he recounted his experience of marketing one of his books as a commodity like rice or sugar at the neighbourhood kirana store. Right, so these are surely not the kind of books which are launched whilst the glitterati swirl the wine in their glasses. These are the kind of books whose success is celebrated by the publisher sending boxes of local candies to people who may contributed to the glory. These are not the kind of books on which you may want to write academic papers, but which originate from places you and I still can't ignore, like office cubicles. This may bring us to an entirely different debate - what defines a book? For safety sake let us assume that it is an aggregation amounting to anything above 5,000 words of one or many people's thoughts - even if it is not able to stand up to a Steinbeck or a Kundera. Why do I say so? Well, there comes social media again - people rarely want to click on link that contains more than 140 characters in a tweet. Or even look at mass media and popular culture - the rise of Twenty20 cricket or Maggi noodles. In such a scenario, when Mr Bhagat manages to catch peoples' attention with his racy reads - by writing a book - is it not something to think about? If people have low attention spans, it also means that they have lower composition spans. Hence, writing anything even above a thousand or two thousand words needs a lot of concentration - something that is hard to come by in the age of instant gratification. As an aside, I may add that those of you familiar with the concept of NaNoWriMo may be able to relate to what I'm talking about.

Hence, I do think that Chetan Bhagat is a genius (in a negative as well as a positive way), because, he has the words, he has the money and most importantly - he has your attention.

(this blogpost may not have been possible unless four people on Twitter - @69fubar, @storyelvis, @oneblackcoffee and @SomeBirdie - had not inspired me with their thoughts. Thank you!)

Help me decide!

Ding ding! May I have your attention please? It's time for me to buy a new gadget (so says the Holy Spender) and I'm in a fix over which one should I go for - MacBook Pro, MacBook Air or one of those sleek tablet thingamijigs (iPad/Samsung Galaxy Tab). So, why don't you - my dearest social media pals - help me decide? My requirements are: movie viewing, music, audio and video streaming, general browsing and the occasional download, some amount of picture editing (not heavy duty design) and of course - social media! So, go to the poll on the right side and vote keeping these things in mind. If not anything else, let this be a social experiment :)

The Beauty of Stupidity

Last night, like most other nights, the chemicals in my brain started acting up again. I lay on the bed, trying to sleep - which was obviously playing a sophisticated version of hide and seek with me. Hence, last night, like most other nights, I went back to my virtual playground, known to 99.79% of the world as Twitter. And there you were - most of my virtually real friends, going about their activities. I sent out a whimper - hey guys, please say something to cheer me up! And there you were - saying a thousand little things to carve an ':)' on my avatar. From blue unicorns to unread books, from baskets of smiles to non-boring people and existent Sundays, the responses were varied and many. And, they worked.

That sounds pretty straightforward, does it not? Well, why I would still want to waste online space over such Twitter moments is simply because I have never given a thought to this fact: there is a beauty to stupidity, a power like no other. Let me point out that that this is in no way intended to demean the cognitive capabilities of my Twitter friends. The reason why I say so is this: none of the tweets intended to cheer me up were trying to sermonise in any way. All that my virtually real friends were trying to do is this: spin their own little magic tricks to make me smile, to make me forget that there were errant chemicals in my brain, or in much simpler words, to make me happy.

And of course, it is not the first time this has happened. And this is obviously not the first blogpost that is trying to talk about the bonds that are formed over social networks. But, it is more about the nature of those bonds. It's like one of those movies with copious amounts of slapstick humour, or an orange lolly, or a baby with its toothless and chocolate-smeared-on-the-cheeks grin. It need not have a meaning to it - but it makes you happy, does it not? It may not make you ponder over the greater truth that is life but it gives you a reason to live, does it not?

Those of you from Twitter who know me (in real or virtual life) and are reading this, surely know I am referring to your handles in this post. Which is why, I am not naming you here. Pardon my use of the word 'stupidity' again, but all I can say is: thank you friends, for the good words last night, like most other nights.

Close Your Eyes

Before I officially start this post, let me tell you that I need a small applause - because I am resuming blogging after seven months! And those of you who have visited my Wordpress blog earlier, will see that all the content from there has been moved to this blog. Again, technically this was my first blog but hey, let the prodigal return, right? So here goes (well)

Humour has many forms - online as well as offline - and the most common of them being <insert a very high falutin word>. (come on, you really didn't expect me to be an analyst now?) But yes, the strangest, or as some would say, darkest thing about humour is its ability to thrive in the gloomiest of situations. The jokes floating around on Twitter at any given point of time are an example of that. There again, the ability of a nondescript entity to establish its presence in a very hilarious fashion. Take the example of the blogpost that became a rage on social media yesterday - Open Letter to a Delhi Boy. Otherwise a post composed in rather appalling English, it went viral through Twitter, and a majority of the people talking about it were not even aware that its author actually has a Twitter account - @Brokenmorning. From barely a hundred, her follower count stands at 400+ at the moment - all in a day. And it was beautifully summed up by the person in question, thus, in this tweet. She had no clue what a trending topic meant! In other words, she was unaware of her 24 hours of fame (positive or negative).

It could have been a coincidence that yesterday itself I was watching a certain Charlie Chaplin movie called A King in New York. One of his lesser known films but a brilliant social satire, it talks of a deposed European monarch who becomes a media sensation - all due to his acting skills captured on a hidden camera (long before the days of sting operations). The king considers selling toothpaste and whisky rather below his dignity at first, but gives in with his dire financial straits. The situation may not have been too similar with the one discussed in the previous paragraph, but one thing is surely common: accidental fame, ladies and gentlemen.

The Afghan girl on the cover of National Geographic may have never had a clue that she would become an icon for photographers, or the individual standing in front of the battle tank at Tiananmen may have never guessed he would become a symbol for resilience. For all that you know, these people may have just been carrying on with their normal lives till someone decided to make them famous.

Let me admit that I was inspired to resume blogging by someone who may have raked up a controversy by mistake with her below average vocabulary. Yes, we are looking for our nano seconds of fame. But as they say, at times, we do need to close our eyes for a while to realise, if this fame is accidental, or shaped like a Gandhi/Anna cap struggling to find its place under the arclights.

And yes, I am not getting paid by anyone after writing all this and indirectly showering attention on random blog writers and insanely famous comedians. 

How to be a Reality Show Contestant

There are reality shows, and there are 'oh really?' shows. Whether it is IPL, India TV or Big Boss, the TRP meters of channels go on mass orgies while we all relish it on our Tata Sky HDs and Samsung LEDs. Also, the participants of the 'oh really?' shows rake in the moolah as well as the er, muaah. Ever wondered what are the qualities that really set these people apart from us mere mortals? Well, here are some parameters that may act critical in putting that reality show contestant tag on someone.

1. Make promises to go nude in public, and make sure it's during a sporting event, preferably the World Cup.  That way, you can also be more talked about in social media rather than tentacled creatures, and also have no slip between the cup (the non-crockery variety) and the lip.

2. Have a mouth that is fouler than thou, and make sure you have the right body dimensions like a certain Ms Bindra to ensure you make the right kind of noises, literally.

3. Have a glowing criminal record, you could be a two-penny thief or a multi-crore scamster, but you should have the ability to go on a hunger strike against honesty, if required.

4. Be a gangster's or a foreign cricketer's girlfriend, and if you are a foreign national yourself, you are assured of a promising career in Bollywood as well.

5. Be a wife beater, and have the ability to act like a perpetual fit for rehab candidate when the camera focuses on you.

6. Be from North India, preferably from Punjab, or more preferably from Chandigarh. Thus, the butter chicken and Scotch whisky in your veins can withstand fire-breathing bald judges.

7. Be an aspiring model (mostly applies for the fairer sex), and have the ability to slap your fellow contestants at will, and have extended cat-fights, if necessary.

8. Be the winner/runners-up of another reality show - guarantees you double fame, doesn't it?

9. Be the relative of a filmstar, and make sure the actor who you are a relative of is now unknown himself/herself as well.

10. Be a lover who's been cheated upon and is ready to take the pants off the ex in public view (if not any of the above, this will definitely grab you some eyeballs).

As new seasons of more reality shows and cricket matches with pom-pom girls, there may be many more additions to the list.

Indian Procrastinators' League

The IPL is back, and so is the enthusiasm, the euphoria, the hysteria...and possibly many other adjectives that I was trying to look up in the dictionary while writing this post. But then, I'm sure coming up with heavy words is just another diversionary tactic that we, er, proud Indians are so good at. In slightly more than 24 hours from now, a 'cricket extravaganza' will kick off with Punjabi mundas cheering for teams originating from land of Marxist machhlis, and so on. In the midst of this, you, me and a lot of others have raised a concern (and quite rightly at that) that Anna Hazare's fast will be headbutted out of the media headlines. Or, if you and me want it to be that way.

Corruption is a byword - a byword for larger things that have encompass our daily lives - that being 'right' is the new 'wrong'. 'It's not right to do things the right way,', 'It doesn't matter what they think'. What is the right and what is wrong? Who are they? These are questions that may be beyond the scope of any blog, book, discussion paper or seminar. The IPL, like the CWG and 2G grafts, was another symbol of 'Shining India' (sic). Players being auctioned off to the highest bidders, as if they are coal mines or storage infrastructure for a telecom service provider. We have scorned at it, we have made fun of it. Yet, we may or may not have noticed a strange irony that lies in this particular phenomenon. The auction - it's not just the players out there, it's happened to each one of us, day by day, week by week, month by month. We have auctioned off our souls - to the traffic sergeant for making the signal-jump look like a clean act, to the municipal inspector for making the 'jugaad' of owning two houses and paying taxes for one a perfect example of our 'smartness'.

Yes, corruption in the country may be like the proverbial chicken and egg - does it thrive because we let it or are we too helpless to do anything about it? But, from a cynic's point of view (which this blog writer may be accused of) - the bias may be towards the former. Isn't there a saying that corruption is like cancer? And cancer survivors know only too well the benefits of early detection and cure.

Many a times, it's been said that 'giving up food is the coolest way to get work done.' Putting the overt sarcasm in this statement aside, if that had been the case, how would the McDonald's and Domino's of the world do business in India? Any and every MNC who sets foot on our soil is baffled, and also happy, at the sheer volume of business that this land offers. And, this is also the land where 'it's difficult to get any work done.'

Anna Hazare's move may or may not be symbolic. But, it's clearly about taking a stand. It's about doing the bizarre to treat the weird. Be it sleazy politicians or cricket administrators, remember - they are a construct of the same 'society' you and me inhabit. Yes, today they may be occupying pedestals so high that we find it difficult to reach out to them. Again, like 'we don't vote', so we don't want to reach out. Like a legend called Michael Jackson once sang: "Some things in life we just don't want to see.....all I want to say is that they don't really care about us." For us, the situation is: "We don't care about us." We are the Indian Procrastinators' League, which even I'm a part of (otherwise this blogpost would not have existed!). Yes, I'm ranting and showing off my angst in so many words. But, in the process of reading this, I'm sure you are being the change you want to see. Yes, I believe that all of us will go beyond words to wipe out the tolerance for evil. Yes, hope is the sturdiest of ropes

What's Not In A Name?

What's in a name? Thus spake the Shakesperean heroine Juliet. Well, if you ask me, what's not in a name? If you simply take a look at the user names of the millions of Twitter users, a plethora of creativity rests right there. Hence, I decided to explore the world of wordplay through mashups of the handles of a few Twitter users who I interact with regularly or irregularly?

1. This Entity was Unnamed so he went to a Field where he did not find any

Name again. So he said:'Lovely! Its Unfair!' (@UnnamedEntity, @NameFieldEmpty & @unfairandlovely)

2. The Rag had no Tag, so she followed the Trail of Saffron, until it turned Scarlet & Hara Bhara (@raggedtag, @saffrontrail & @ScarletOhHara)

3. Until Desdemona found her Othello, she thought of going on a trip. So she called out to her friend: 'Oye Maria! Want to come along? (@Desdemona14 & @OyeMaria)

4. The Khargosh was Gora, until he met the Sherni (@gora_khargosh & @Sherni)

5. What Confuseus Say is profound, K Rahul? (@ConfuseusSay & @RahulK18)

6. She was Wandering like a Nomad on the Hiway (@NomadWanderer & @hiway)

7. She wanted to act like a Dedh Shaani, so she collaborated with Dram-e-Baaz (@DedhShaani & @dram_e_baaz)

8. You Doofus! Don't do Nautanki. The Big Dowg is watching you (@doofus_, @nautanki & @TheBigDowg, though the first person has deactivated his Twitter account)

9. The Kid wanted a Softy. Hence he went Singing to Kyra for a treat (@softykid & @kyrasinging2)

10. The Nazi wanted his Coffee. And he also had a Dua for Jaspreet (@thecoffeenazi & @JaspreetDua)

11. The Witch of Words was looking for an Esc(ape) out of the 12-hour drudgery (@Word_Witch & @EscF12)

12. Neha! Dive Kar!, said the Maniac with the Mitter (@NehaDivekar & @Mittermaniac)

13. Anee! I want another Item on my menu, the one with the Bunee, yes (@Item_  & @AneeBunee)

14. There can't be any Lapses that are Literary. Plus, it's only a Merc we are talking about (@LiteraryLapses & @mercplus)

15. The Nayak is Girinining. And even Gopal can't ask him to Chuck it (@nayakgirin & @chuck_gopal)

16. The Polka Dots have the Punk, with the Phulka (@punkpolkadots & @phulkadots)

17. Dharmesh Jee (G), B good to Shaheen (@dharmeshg & @Shaheenb)

18. Aye Kaveri! Get me some Lime with Ice (@ikaveri & @LimeIce)

19. Fu! Let's go to the Bar and order a Vat 69, said Punkster for the 101th time (69fubar & @punkster101)

20. Probably he's Trippy, but Panic ko usne kab ka Tyag diya (@probablytrippy & @panictyagi - a very sweet couple, ok I added this to clarify that this mashup is just in good humour!)

21. Maan, are you Psycho? No? Then go Nab the Eel with the N (@PsychoMaan & @NabeelN)

22. Ash is Winning, K Gopal? But Saiff is Haute (@ashwinkgopal & @hautesaiff)

23. She's the MD of our company. And her car number plate has 610. But Bee I Noo Y? (@md610 & @beeyaoonoohwhy)

24. Neo! Have you seen Aaragorn? No sir, I only saw this Supra-fast Mario (@NeoAaragorn & @SupraMario)

25. Mujhe Venkat ko dekh kar Ananth ki yaad gayi, said Ramesh to Srivats (@venkatananth & @rameshsrivats)

26. Arrey Takloo! Man I Want a Bitch (@taklooman & @bitchwanti)

27. Tu toh Baavri hogi, but Eshaan Rocks :) (@baavri & @eshaanrocks)

28. The Princess is Defiant. But the Insomniac is Mad (@defiantprincess & @madinsomniac)

29. The Maniac aint Hollow, said Dhruv to Ster up things (@Hollowmaniac & @dhruvster)

30. The Indian is Rofling so much that after acidity O! he wants some Diogene now! (@Roflindian & @diogeneb)

31. Ashok, Krish is Squaring it up with R already, I know (@krishashok & @i_r_squared)

32. Adda ho toh Aantel Nair jaisa, said PB (@aanteladda & @PBNair)

33. I'm Sabbah. So what? I'm Kapur, said Shweta (@imsabbah & @ShwetaKapur)

34. She Suddenly saw Twilight, with the Fairy dancing away (@suddentwilight & @twilightfairy)

35. Oh G, I am the Rojo with the Mojo. So don't call me a Khamba (@gkhamba & @mojorojo)

36. I don't have Efin Time to Live, and that aint a Pun, Vati (@livetimefe & @punvati)

37. To B or not to B, 50 times? (@b50)

38. Mere Karan aur Arora aayenge, inspite of the autocratic Regime of the Kapo (@KaranArora & @Kapo_Regime)

39. She's Crazy about the Shutter, said Nik with the Ster-eo (@ShutterCrazy & @nikster)

40. Kuch Bhi Candi? Nam badalti rehti hai (@Kuch_Bhi and her earlier handle @candinam)

41. San-s Daddy, there can't be a sun Tan-tan on the beach, Noo? (@daddy_san & @tantanoo)

42. So Nel, no Nniums for you? (@nelsonnium)

43. She's the Chick who knows Raap music, said Tany as she told he Tales (@RaapChick & @tanytales)

44. Thea! Long live the Ale! Don't forget to Splurge on the Star though, she said for the 7th time (@Aletheaf & @splurgestar7)

45. Aa! I saw a Kanga-Roo four times! (@aaroo4)

46. This is a Mad uni-Versity! No Gabbar, this is Singh-sesational (@madversity & @GabbbarSingh)

47. Mom! See what an Imp she is! And so are you, Nimue (@ImpsMom & @nimue_)

48. Rafael Nad-al went Mad (@mad_nad)

49. C Priyanka, you have seen the iPhone 19 times. But its still Fresh (@priyankac19 & @iphonefresh)

50. Tharo naam Sunaina hai K? Haan ji, I can take Kriti-cis-M (@sunainak & @Kritism)

51. Roy, you have committed no Cin, said the L-shaped Priya (@RoycinD & @priyal)

52. Arrey Mihir, please play the Bijuriya song, Sulbha told him (@MihirBijur & @SulbhaArora - a couple who met on Twitter and are set to tie the knot soon)

53. Satan! Have you seen Bhagat? No saar, he's giving some Illegal Briefs (@SatanBhagat & @IllegalBriefs - what he was known as a for a while)

54. So it's a Comic Project, but for that you have to Fly! You Fools! (@thecomicproject & @Flyyoufools)

55. What's for Sup-per, MM? (@SupMM)

56. A Traveller was looking for a map, so she went to the Kartographer (@a_traveller & @krtgrphr)

All this was done in good humour only and not to make fun of people in a sarcastic fashion. Also, I may not be following a couple of the users mentioned but their mentions have appeared a lot on my timeline, hence the liberty :)

I met you only once, but it seemed I knew you since ages...

As I sit and write this, strains of the popular song 'Roop Tera Mastana' from the 1960s movie 'Aradhana' waft from the neighbouring computer. I remember you. The man who composed the music for this song - Sachin Dev Burman - may not be so relevant in this context, but it is the man who assisted Sachin 'karta' - his son Rahul aka Pancham - whose name springs to my mind. You were a diehard fan of Pancham. You had the careerspan of Pancham on your fingertips. You simple swore by his music. There was never a dull moment for you when his compositions used to play, or so you told us.

I met you in person only once - part of a huge crowd which had gathered to seek your 'darshan' at the popular Park Street cafe Flurys. It was crowded as usual for a weekend, but you had asked me to arrange for a table. But the moment I mentioned your name to the staff there, they got about arranging for a table. As you came and asked me: 'kemon achish?', it seemed I was talking to the doting uncle who was asking for his nephew. That was the first and last time I met you. And that was more than another evening for me, as I recall it now.

I have been a moody and disobedient child. I find it difficult to take orders. Which is what got me into an argument someone much older than me on Twitter (which is where I 'met' you for the first time). The person told me not to say things online which did not suit her sensibilities. I retorted that no one owns the online forum. Which is where, you stepped in and told me: 'If I told you to stop, would you disobey me?' I don't know how, but I instantly stopped. And the day next, I apologised to the person, which is when you patted my back by saying: 'Yes son, you have grown up'. And that's how, you became a father-figure for me, like so many of my friends on Twitter.

As I sit and write this, fighting back my tears, coming to terms with the fact that I will never be able to hear those words of encouragment from you, I know that you will rebuke me if I break down. Korbo, lorbo, jeetbo - those three words are ringing in my ears. There were these moments as well, when I let my angst out on Twitter and told you how I'm unable to cope with my working hours, and how you told me: 'When my back is against the wall, I demolish it....and don't give up so soon.' Yes, I will follow those words to the core.

You were a Ladies' Man on Twitter. But there was never a moment when one could pointer a finger at you and say you were being cheap. You had that innate ability, that flair to turn the smallest of conversations online into a colourful discussion, without making it an argument that would end up spewing hatred all around.

There are people I know, online and offline, who have known and interacted with you much more than I have. Maybe I don't deserve to write this post at all, because I started following you on Twitter much later than our common friends there. But then, I could not stop myself, as I remember your last words to me just a couple of days before: 'Now you know what Calcutta means to me?'

Yes, now I know what the world and the people around you meant to you. You were, are and will remain the Emperor of our hearts Abhijit Da.

Walking Down The Aisle, Literally

Workplace romance may not be a very new concept exactly. But, there are times when the couples concerned start taking it too literally. In such cases, the events that follow give you some much needed break from the heartburn that you nurse after blowing up that humongous amount of money on flop movie in the nearest multiplex. Consider the example of an airhostess getting married to a pilot as an example. How would the chants of the officiating priest sound? Maybe something like this:

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome aboard Knotical Mile Airways, Flight 42+69. Today we are here to celebrate the happy union of Long Legs with Ray-Ban Eyes. Please follow the instructions carefully as I, Jet Lageshwar, lead you through this happy occasion. We will be covering the distance in approximately ten days, 62 hours. There are NO exits in the aircraft if we encounter turbulence. For the bride, there are special masks called Retail Therapy fitted above the seats, which drop down if the groom starts eyeing the other airhostesses with more precision. The groom would be requested to help the bride wear her mask instead of him giving it futile, mid-air trials. At the back of every seat, there is a booklet on surviving disasters like 125 decibel shouts at 5am - I request the groom to go through it carefully.

We will be providing you with refreshments on board free of cost, but we will expect you to return the favour with at least a kilo of onions and fake gold jewellery. Please feel free to use your mobile phones even when the aircraft is taking off or landing, but make sure your conversation is about the latest car or at least the Scotch whiskey bottle that you gave for dowry at the wedding of your child. Or, if your boy or girl has reached marriageable age but is yet to find a suitable match, feel free to send me the profile at jet.lageshwar@tharkimatrimony.com. I will be happy to help at the best rates on offer in the market.

Here's Jet Lageshwar wishing the couple and everyone else on board a very happy journey.

Not A Mirage

H did not have a clue when the call or chat conversation had ended (like most other things in his life). But he realised well in time that he had overslept and missed breakfast. Since his work hours were not the usual 9-5 routine, his parents normally left for their daily grind by the time he got up. But, today was an exception. On emerging from his room around 12, he noticed a sticky note at the dining table from his mother: ‘Don’t forget to have your lunch, and heat it before you eat.’ Like most mere mortals of his ilk, H did suffer from forgetfulness. But till now, it had been merely occasional and limited to a few bouts here and there. In the last few days and months, the frequency had been going up. And everyone but him had started taking note of it. H had started becoming listless, impatient and losing track of conversations too often. Not that he was particularly known as a great jabberwocky, but his increasingly monosyllabic stance to things in general had taken his parents, if not anyone else, by some alarm (they still did not want to ring it).

But in his subconscious strata of the brain, H knew the real story. All his mental faculties were no focused on the virtual, rather than the real. He had created his own Second Life, and was freely dabbling in it, maybe for the sake of an experiment which had started to overstep its boundaries. His world of social networking was the arena where he felt more confident to interact, and more gullible at the same time, because of the invisible garb of innocence he always wore. And the frequent pangs of happy times spent with his ex-girlfriend were contributing to it in a great amount. Though H had crossed the age of teen angst, the hormones still used to act up once in a while.

As he was figuring his next move, he was looking at the pile of uneaten fruits on the table – his breakfast that could not be. He was thinking of a suitable explanation to give to Mom, who would surely call him to ask about this when he was at work. This did annoy him mildly, but he had learnt to ignore it, ever since she had been promoted as the vice-principal of the school she had been teaching in for the last 15 years.  Her work hours had now become longer than his own, and she was not at an age when the load could be integrated into her system effortlessly. H’s maternal grandmother’s death a few months back was not helping things either. Didun  (as H called his grandma)  was a sort of mental sink for H and his mother. And she seemed to have a solution for everything. For someone who did not have a sneeze throughout her life, the sudden arrival of leukaemia to take her away was more than a rude shock for H and his family. Hence, H now knew that he, more than anyone else, would have to be steady for his mom’s sake.

He decided to nibble on the banana, while he switched on some peppy music on his computer. After all, his daily dose of heady music (apart from his back exercises) could not be missed. Half an hour after he barely managed to finish the banana and was done with his exercises, he stole a glance at the newspaper. “Right, the headlines are in place,” he said to himself. Working on the newsdesk of a paper with no off on weekends was not the kind of things people his age exactly looked forward to it. But it gave him yet another sort of satisfaction which he only he could fathom (excluding the gushing from relatives when they heard the name of the organisation he was working in).

H was wondering whether to call back his so-called love interest or not. But she would already be at work, even though she always made time to talk to him. Even then, he wanted to let things be for a few more hours at least, so the cesspool of thoughts in his as well as her head could clear up a bit.  So, after his bath, he decided to watch a serious-plot Hollywood movie instead. After all, the broadband internet connection and newly-acquired external hard drive had to be put to good use. This may not seem a normal transition for someone who starts the day with peppy music. But so were H and his mood swings. As the movie was starting, H stole a few seconds to check his Twitter timeline. Mihir and Sulbha had posted a picture of themselves from a party last night. The happiness awas oozing on the couple’s faces, which everyone had taken note and was complimenting them on it. He decided to contribute his two pennies too, in spite of the mild jealousy that recently-broken up individuals feel by looking at happy couples at times. He also noticed a sudden increase in his follower count. Had he accidentally spoken about his feelings for his Twitter friend publicly? Or was he just hallucinating? But then, he looked again at the follower count. And surely, this was not a mirage.

After All, They Are Here

3.16 am. H looked at the clock on his mobile phone. He was having a concersation with another one of his close friends (who only had a virtual presence in his life) on GTalk. He was not writing anything himself though, just looking at the stream of words flowing in. It was unusually cold for the part of the world he was in, even though it was early January. There were at least 16 browser tabs open on his laptop, this chat window being one of them. Not that he was paying attention to this chat because the movie and song downloads had slowed, but his interest in the conversation was waning anyway. Again, it would not be fair on his part to his friend, who was going through a rough patch. In other words, there had to be a way out. There had to be coffee. So, with some effort he dragged himself to the kitchen and switched on the coffee maker. As the water started simmering, he went back to check if his friend had left or not. And on the screen were these words:

 

 

 

 

I'm developing weird feelings for you

I'm not sure what this means

You are free to not reply if you don't want to

For someone who was just out of a break-up of a seven-year relationship, these three sentences bore a world of possibilities in them for H. Which also meant that a multitude of emotions - of various shapes and sizes, was waiting to break free from his mind. But one thing was certain - he would surely be lying to himself if he were to tell her that he had no such 'weird' feelings for her as well. They had been talking to each other for quite some time, had also exchanged phone numbers. And this was besides the fact that even she had gone through a heartbreak. But, would it be fair to tell her at this juncture, he wondered? Groping for answers at an unearthly hour, he decided to go back to his web of social networking contacts for help. He posted a direct message on Twitter to a lady who was known for her large-heartedness and ability to spread cheer. And then he went back to the chat window. She was still online. And was now asking him this question:

Do you like any of the girls you have met here?

'Here' meant the online meeting ground - an amalgam of Twitter and Facebook. And yes, he had met quite a few members of the opposite sex online - and of a wide age range. And some of them had been telling him about some secrets in their lives which even their near ones were not aware of. He had no clue why they were telling him these things. But it was certain that they were trying to tell him something. Maybe it was: 'you are a patient listener, hence we can confide in you'. Or it could be just that he was 'yet another listener' for them. But then, it was real. And this was an entirely new dimension he had to deal with it, as after all, they are here.

So he continued listening and letting his friend vent her heart out, until he looked at the clock again: 6.13 am

A Smaller World

It was light at the end of the tunnel, literally. After looking for a lost (or as he had thought for long) notebook, he finally found it at desolate corner of his room. Well, this is usually what happens when you don't clean your room for aerons (or ages?). So, it's not that romantic, is it? More so, he was starting to recover from a injuries sustained during an accident he had a month earlier. Hence, he was beginning to feel restless. He was done with his share of movie downloads via torrents and staring at countless blog posts. And now, he was creating a parallel world, or was entering a parallel universe rather. His newly-acquired prosperity had enabled him to acquire a BlackBerry, and he had started using that to meet new people from places where he still wishes to travel.

But why was he looking for a notebook then? His new world, known more popularly as Twitter, had held him in thrall for several weeks. He used to jot down important events in his life in his notebook, a habit he had given up after he started dating his college classmate - seven years to be precise. But, he suddenly felt the urge to revive the habit again. He had joined Twitter just as he had joined Facebook - as a fad that had caught on. But now, his world had increasingly begun to revolve around those 140 characters that were his window to talk to his friend from Paris to Patna. Each and every punctuation mark or emoticon had started to from images in his brain. Though he knew in part that he had taken refuge in the virtual world to shield himself from the recoil generated by his turbulent relationship which had just ended, he was now entering the second phase. The period of recovery had been another factor that had confined him to his room and his timeline (the Twitter equivalent of the Facebook homepage).

When he finally found the notebook, his adventures with pen and paper could not be revived immediately as the LED was flashing on his phone. And the person on the other end was one of his Twitter friends. She had just come back from a work trip to Bangalore and wanted to talk to him about her new love interest. She was one of the few who knew his real name, since he had chosen not to dislose it on his Twitter profile. He could imagine her blushing on the other end of the line, and this was precisely when he saw a barrage of tweets congratulating Mihir and Sulbha - a couple who had met on Twitter and had decided to get engaged the following month. At the same time, a couple of message arrived from his online friends in the US and France, asking about his health. As he was beginnning to soak in what was popping up on the computer screen, Humour (as he was known to his Twitter friends) started talking to DK: 'Hey, humans tweet like birds these days. Won't they fly on their own pretty soon? '

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We tweet, They tweet

The night before last, I randomly started a hashtag from my Twitter handle: #tweetslike. At the end of the hashtag I inserted a handle of the people on Twitter I interact with. It was originally meant to poke light fun at the tweeting styles of certain people on the popular social networking but ended up with me getting quite a lot of requests from my Twitter friends asking me to mimic them! So, I felt like someone doing a live-standup on Twitter by using my limted powers of observation to imitate Twitter users. In short, it was Twitter's equivalent of a mimicry artist doing his take on celebrities (ok, pun intended) and looking at Twitterwood through his eyes. It was one of those rare moments (aka gloat moment for me) when people loved to laugh at themselves. Ok enough introduction. Here goes the content of the timeline, with some additions and my own Twitter bios of the people I mimicked.

1. @venkatananth: The man who combines the abilities of Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar and P Chidambaram. Well, seriously I'm yet to come across a more well-read person at his age. A tweet from him would typically read as: 'Mate <insert fact which was unknown for 200 years>'.

2. @gkhamba: The tall Sardar from the Capital city whose tongue is firmly in his invisible turban and who, I'm sure, is secretly advising Manmohan Singh to win one at least one Lok Sabha before he takes the ticket to heaven. Be sure its his tweet when it reads like: 'Arindam Chowdhury/Chetan Bhagat/Uday Chopraa/Arnab Goswami visited my blog. <insert Delhi/Punjab joke>

3. @daddysan: The man from across the Vindhyas who is on a secret mission in the US of A to convince Obama to have a Maratha Manoos special operations cell in the US Army. His tweet would typically be: '<insert US state name> is a LOL factor. Oh well.'

4. @OldMonkMGM: The man will make sure Bengalis colonise the Moon, or Neptune for that matter, someday. Also, he can single-handedly take on Rajnikanth and Chuck Norris with his meme generating machines and YouTube music links. A sample tweet from him: Gahahahah. Epic! <insert CSI meme/YouTube link> and an optional Bengali word.'

5. @GabbbarSingh: Apart from reinventing Ramgarh on the interwebs, this man redefines humour like anything with his straight-face jokes and wordplay. A tweet from him would read like: You are what you are <insert stupendous wordplay>

6. @rameshsrivats: Another wordmeister who has an arsenal (Gunners take note) of reverse-scrabbled words with him. His sample tweet: 'I say we have a <insert wordplay>, no?'

7. @diogeneb: Anagram Anna is what I call him. When the Oxford dictionary disposes, he proposes with his splendid anagrams, with a tweet like: 'Sir,<insert anagram> <insert celebrity name>'

8. @bhalomanush: A member of the sporadic diaspora of the Bengalis. He is a bio scientist by day and a superhero by night, saving the interwebs from the attack of Steve Jobs and Bill Gates with his office humour and refreshing take on NRI as well as native Bengalis. Sample a tweet from him: The office sign says <insert Dilbert joke in reverse>

9. @i_r_squared: The leader of the Sambhar Shosannas in the US academic world who will make sure the Amits there will not have huge orgies with their butter chickens so easily. A tweet from him is a bit tough to decipher thought, hence '<insert joke which I am trying to figure out since the last 10 days>

10. @cgawker: Had it not been fro him, I would have never known what (or watt) a 'bulb' is. Again, he is a master of cryptic tweets, like '<insert joke which I may figure out before I die>

11. @krishashok: Master of binary and non-binary satire, an example of his Twitter updates: 'Here I am <insert witty jetlagged comment> checking out the work <insert an entity to bash>'

12. @abhishekmadan: Another wordplay genius who can write his own thesis, with tweets like 'They are a bunch of <insert splendid wordplay>'

13. @Unnamedentity: He is determined to spell English as Hsilgne or so I think. Hence, a tweet from him: 'Funda! <insert his own Yodaspeak/Esperanto>'

14. @WoMod: A chirpy and bubbly woman who never fails to enjoy every moment of life. Sample a tweet from her: '<insert fun philosophy> <insert emoticon>'

15. @DevilOnBunk: One of my Twitter gangmates from whom even a slap will feel good, well yeah. When he is missing on the timeline, the world of the 140 looks so weird. A typical tweet from him: 'Abeyaar/Bhug <insert another cuss word>

16. @hautesaiff: An ace photographer and a very 'haute' person indeed. A tweet from him: 'Yeh kya ho raha hai? LOL'

17. @Desdemona14: Madam D, who does not seem to get a shut eye unless a fail whale strikes Twitter. Also a good friend online. She loves to say: Kya hai? Ha ha ha #drama'

18. @ImpsMom: Another one of my earliest Twitter friends and the mother of a lovely Imp. As soon as you read 'Hiya how's you?' be sure its her tweet.

19. @ikaveri: Nothing less than the Superwoman of Twitter, who loves to tweet like: '*fooooooooooooop* <insert Twitpic in next tweet> *pooooooooooof*'

20. @Jhunjhunwala: The richest man in the universe indeed, who never fails to say '3...2...1 out'

21. @bitchwanti: Queen Yoda, who never misses a moment to tickle your irritation nerve with tweets like 'Anger shall ensue, BURN!'

22. @oneblackcoffee:Cellphone cannot be cellphones unless she tells you so. also, it would be not odd to see a tweet from her like: 'Clearly ,insert rant about weaher/work> Meh :|'

23. @ScarletOhHara: I never knew Nemi existed until I met her on Twitter, since she is blessed with the power of baking a cake ina washing machine. also, you will be certain it is her tweet when it reads like: 'Did you see what happened in the <insert crappy TV show name>?'

24. @raggedtag: Arundhati Roy, beware of her as she would ove to say: 'What about India? <insert link to article in high-profile journal>'

25. @dharmeshG: He has three reservoirs on his body to store the following: beer, beer and beer, apart from movies and Tv shows. Make no mistake that it his tweet when it reads: Epic <insert YouTube link> must watch trailer'

26. @69fubar: Geniuses are in varied forms, like this man - who can actually (yes) solve a Rubik;s Cube blindfolded. Also, he would typically say: "I aintno shit tweet I aint no retweet.'

27. @punkster101: A natural charmer this young man, with his lovable tweets like: '<insert tremendous philosophy> Gah'

28. @SiddharthPatel:A true social media junky, connects with Twittterati at ease. So, his tweet would be: '36 greatest tharkis of the world <insert Twitter celen handle> RT'

29. @PsychoMaan: The wonderful young photographer that he is, at his age I did not even know what an SLr camera was. his tweet: 'Crooked Smile <insert link to photo> <insert 101 handle>

30. @OyeMaria: The self-proclaimed male basher who never fails to entertain as well. So a typical tweet from her <insert male bashing joke> !!!'

31. @mehrzee: The queen of perky tweets, loves to post 'Goti <insert perky tweet>'

32. @Decloned_Taz: God decided to give her me a telepathic connect of headaches, so I would not blame the poor thing when she says: I will @TheHumerus for giving me a headache'

33. @preetidhingra: The self-confessed hot Punjabi who loves her music and vodka, and keeps on asking: 'What would you sing for your friend's birthday? suggestions welcome'

34. @ConfuseusSay: Loves his music also, as well as hi hookahs also: 'Hookah has been had. Bliss.'

35. @TorqueAddict: Who says a can of beer does not have its own algorithm? Ask Him, and he would tell you: 'Drunk I am, not'

36. @SparklingGuy: This entrepreneur from Sadi Dilli creates magic on his website and then says: :We have created an infographic. RT and share link please. Thanks'

37. @ruhiseth: A fellow citizen of the City of Joy, she makes us smile with her dotted line tweets: '......DP changed....'

38. @blackrosegal: Another adorable fellow citizen of the City of Joy, makes me smile with her randomness: 'I'm playing Hitman. aaaaa'

39. @abhijitdg: Ace journalist and someone who has been kicking the bottle and the stick since the British left India, his straight face sense of humour never fails to amaze me: 'I'm bored. Entertain me, please'

40. @Ipsita_Shome: Ban-ki Moon who? Make this lady the in-charge at UN I say. No wonder you would find her saying: 'And oh before I retire with my book <insert link to bomb blast in Uzbekistan> shalom'

41. @Nishad_M: My Marathi teacher and a genuine human being in every sense of the term. Loves to say: 'Hello friends, getting ready for work'

42. @isanzc: A master of wordplay in the Bengali language: '<insert Bengali wordplay> LOL!!'

43. @ShwetaKapur: A bright young journalist who brings random smiles with her <insert tremendously random statement> tweets

I could go on and on, but I know that while reading this, you have kept your work (even if its tying the left shoelace) for too long. And besides, this list has 43 names. Think about it (ok?)

If you think this was an indirect to pimp certain Twitter handles, my third purpose would have been served (the other two I'm still trying to figure out of course).

(PS: Names are not in any order of preference)

The Big Dabangg Theory

A few days ago, a great man known as Stephen Hawking said: 'God did not create the Universe.' All media, and more so social media, was quick to pick it up, though overall many might have been saying secretly: 'Dude, what's so new about that?'. Well, that statement, like many others made by other great men and women only drives the home the point, its not the words that matter, its their source which does.



This week, many fans of the man with the Black Buck-belt, Salman Khan, (to be addressed affectionately as Sir Chulbul Pandey for the time being) flocked to movie theatres to catch his antics in Dabangg. The amount of hype and attention surrounding this movie was not so much that a certain lady whose father could blow off villains with his 'Khamosh!' was making her debut, but for the fact that this movie apparently reinforces the fact stated in the above paragraph, if you go by the  dialogue: 'Tum mein itne chhed karenge, ke saans loge kahin se aur paadoge kahin se.' I confess to not watching the movie, so I may have faltered with the words a bit, and neither is what you are going to read further a review or an attempt to use the movie as a benchmark to state a high or low-brow theory. But going by the response of social media users, I feel obliged to state The Big Dabangg Theory, more in terms of a general perception on entertainment and life in general.

According to The Big Dabangg Theory, the universe is perenially in a very hot and dense state of intellectual masturbation, but tends to cool down at times with humorous farts (yes as physics defying as it may sound). With the brief men/women-o-pauses, the universe continues to expand. But the twist in the tale is that these tiny farts stimulate in the expansion, which enables the intellectual masturbation to go on smoothly. Who are the ones who lead the charge of the intellectual nymphomaniacs? Opinions could vary from Arundhati Roy to Naomi Klein, but since it's the humorous farts which contribute more to the uninterrupted flow of the mental coitus, it's these personalities/entities who matter a lot. A few who prove this postulate correct are as follows (you are free to contribute more to the list or create your own):

1. Govinda: Be it his kitschy costumes or zany dance moves - this man will manage a laugh out of even a Angela Merkel at a crisis summit. And needless to say, slapstick humour as we know it can trace some of its bilogical fatherhood to him.



2. Rakhi Sawant: Again, mindlessness as we know in the cyber silicone age, is a big offshoot of her acts. In fact, do not be surprised Ms Sawant claims to be the bastard child of Stephen Hawking one day. PS: some newspapers/TV channels are already waiting for such a moment.



3. Robert Pattinson: Why him? Well, not due to the fact that he can wait for 117 years to romance a high school girl, but he (or Edward Cullen rather) reinforces the fact there is some justification in having products like Fair & Handsome in the market (though I may hear you smorting in disapproval).



4. Lady GaGa: Mark my words: she will design the spacesuit of the future



5. Bill Gates & Steve Jobs: The reason why these two come at bottom is that they have been a part of an intellectual orgasm of a different kind: freedom to think out of the Windows and the ability to make you and me, and just i, a part of the tech universe. Their actions have stimulated this in a reverse manner, of course (lest a debate on on coding starts here).

What was I thinking while writing this? Well, mostly nothing, as most people who have seen Dabangg have felt. But like my earlier blog posts, the message is the same this time: laughter makes the world go round (if it did make you laugh that is). Think when you have to, and have fun because you need to - something which is, 'fascinating' in the words of Dr Sheldon Cooper.