It happened one weekend...

You know what? For all the absurdities, I still have a soft corner for bollywood movies of the early 90s. Case in point - Dil Hai ke Manta Nahin (1991), which I chanced upon while surfing channels yesterday. And sat through it. It was a nostalgic experience given that this movie came out at a time when we were in college, and life was footloose & fancy free.

It was one of those 'assembly-line' thingies the Bhatt camp used to dole out back then. It was good, clean fun. DHMN was supposedly an inspiration of a hollywood classic (ok, stop rolling your eyes) 'It happened one night', which was once earlier made in bollywood before DHMN itself. It was called 'Chori-Chori' starring the show-man Raj Kapoor, and amchi munnabhai's real-life mom Nargis.

It gives a different kind of a high when you see the lead pair bickering and fighting tooth 'n nail the first half of the movie and then falling in love in the end. But DHMN holds a special place in my heart because the first rays of romance were entering my own life, and I remember going to this movie with almost the entire class, and yes...my future wife as well. And a movie becomes all the more special when you start relating to the characters, and your life had situations similar to those on the screen.

Well yeah, at hindsight it does seem a bit silly, compared to movies of today which are more technically advanced and realistic (and most times..err..bold, for want of a better word), and given that the movie's hero is so well known for those realistic movies today. DHMN in that sense was the perfect mix, a perfect antidote for boredom, and a perfect reckoner for people hopeful of love. It had all the masala in it, the 'drop-of-a-hat' song sequences, and of course a happy ending. And to top it, you didn't find it embarrassing to watch it with anyone...heck, I could watch it with my neighbor, Mr. R. I couldn't be seen dead with him in any movie hall today. I swear.

Rent the movie today and watch it. You'll smile through the weekend. Trust me. :-)

Scream Test

Shetty frowned as he flipped the various portfolios.

"Damn. Damn, and more damn," he muttered. He should've never listened to that Desai kid. These US-returned youngsters thought no end of themselves. One measly degree from some bloody university and they thought they knew what film-making was all about. MBA too, to top it. He shook his head and wiped his bald head.

"Next," he barked into the intercomm.

The lanky guy peeped his head through the door and stepped in with a meek "sir?"

"Come in," Shetty grunted.

He looked nervous, this guy. Shetty sized him up quickly. Hmm..not so bad actually.

"So, you are..." he pored over his profile, hooking on his glasses on the nose.

"Ankit...sir."

"Ankit," Shetty repeated and leaned back, his hands over his head. He looked at the nervous guy's face for a few seconds, a smirk slowly creeping across his own face. "So, you want to be a star, huh?"

"I want to be in this film, sir."

Shetty rolled his eyes.

"No, really sir..."

"You see, Mr. Ankit," Shetty said, leaning forward keeping his hands on the table. "This will be our most expensive movie till date. Special effects. Music. You name it. And we want actors," he said with a typical gesture. "Actors. Not dreamy-eyed stars. And that is why we're interviewing and auditioning new faces."

Ankit nodded sagely.

"And..."

"I know sir," Ankit interrupted. "And I understand that. I think...I'm..I'm your guy."

Shetty raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what makes you so confident, young man? We'll have a screen test, and..."

Ankit interjected again. "Sir, I'm telling you..."

"Listen young man. I don't like to be interrupted. I'm the director of this film, and I can show you the door, rightaway. Ok? You're lucky the producer of the film isn't here with me today, else..." Shetty wiped his brow with a frown.

"Anyway..what makes you think you're so qualified for this movie? What's so great about you anyway?"

"Sir, this is a horror movie right?"

Shetty nodded.

"Sir, I think I can give it that authenticity. And you won't even need special effects."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes sir," said Ankit, pulling out his head and placing it on the table.

"You see sir," the head spoke. "I died last year on my way to the same studio, for the same film. And I really want this film. I'm dying to do it, excuse the pun."

Then guiltily, he picked up his head and screwed it back on.

"So, I'll get the role, right sir?"

"Sir?"

"Sir?!!"

******

Proxy

It was almost 5.30pm when she walked across to the staff room, her papers in hand. The college was empty, save a couple of staffers and peons who sauntered around majestically. After-college hours they turned into lions in a national reserve. Rajshekhar, the economics lecturer, had asked Sakshi to stay back for some clarifications regarding her paper. She'd requested to meet him the next day, just before college began, but he had refused. Some work he'd muttered. How typical.

She stepped into the staff room and looked around. He sat on the far left, by the window.

"Sakshi. Come." He called out.

She walked over and sat opposite.

"So? How was your day?"

"Ok...sir," Sakshi forced the two words out.

He looked at her and smiled. She didn't like the smile.

"Nervous?" He asked poring over some papers.

"No. Why should I be?" She sounded confident.

"Good."

He bundled the papers into a stack and pushed them aside.

"Now then. Your paper."

She nodded.

He held out his hand. She handed him the paper.

He turned the pages, deep in thought.

"You know...Sakshi. These here, questions 10 and 11. Don't you think we had...actually I had in particular mentioned that you guys needed to pay special attention to this topic?"

Sakshi looked blank. She didn't like the tone in which he spoke now.

"Uhh..sir, actually..."

"See Sakshi. Let me be very frank with you. You are one of the brighter students. And I want to see you pursuing nothing less than an MBA from one of the IIMs. And this..this has got to stop."

"What sir?" She half frowned.

He looked over at the door. She turned too. She saw the door closing. She swung back and saw the jerk smiling now.

"Sakshi. You are intelligent. And you know how important these marks are going to be, for you. Don't you?"

Sakshi nodded, swallowing hard.

He smiled knowingly, his eyes doing most of the talking now.

He rose and walked over to her side. Her breathing got heavier now. She didn't take her eyes off the table. She could feel him standing close to her now. He was about to put his hand on her head. She brushed it aside and rose, pushing back the chair, which fell with a thud.

"Sir..no."

"Arre, what? I didn't even say anything." He had a puzzled look. But the smile hadn't gone.

"Sir. You know I can scream. Right? You can't do this.."

"What am I doing, baba?" He inched closer now. She was pushed to the window.

"Sakshi. Child. I just wanted to make you understand that I want the best for you. And you can be the best. Trust me."

"Just like how Disha trusted you, ten years ago?"

Sakshi suddenly didn't look so frightened anymore.

"Wha...?" Rajshekar said, his expression changing to one of bewilderment.

"Yes. Disha. Remember her? You raped her and you even disposed off her body in a way that nobody knew. Not even the cops could sniff you out. Smug about it, huh, Mr. Pervert? Oh..I'm sorry - Mr. murderer?"

Rajshekhar stepped back now, horror spreading across his face.

"Who..what..how do you know about...Who are you?"

*******
Dayal laughed out loud at another of Gopal's jokes. They sat on the steps, a few feet away from the staff room. Just then they saw the door opening.

"Huh, I thought I closed the door from the outside," Dayal said, rising.

As he approached the door, the girl stepped out. He stopped in his tracks. This wasn't the girl who had walked in. He turned to Gopal who gave him a quizzical look. Dayal turned back at the girl. There was something familiar about her. She wasn't the same girl, but she looked damn familiar. Her deep penetrating eyes forced him to turn away. He saw her slowly walk across the corridor and out the exit.

His heart beating wildly, he opened the door of the staff room and peered inside. He cupped his mouth and let out a muffled scream, his eyes wide with horror and repulsion.

*******

Chalk-a-block

Mom was hospitalized last week for complications related to her diabetes. She's back home now, and doing much better. That sets the context. We all dread hospitals (at least us non-medical folks) for the simple reason that it is synonymous with illness, in some form or the other. But despite being a not-so-desirable place to be in, it can sometimes help one meet some interesting characters. No, not the patients. But the ones accompanying them.

I was keeping watch one night last week, and there's this middle-aged man who sat next to me. I wasn't exactly in a conversational mood, but his infectious optimism slowly warmed me up to him and we got talking about this and that.

"So, what do you do?" He asked eagerly.

"Uh, I'm a software professional. Well, not exactly in that sense - I'm a technical writer."

"Oh, writer. Ok, ok.." He mulled over it for a few seconds.

The next salvo. "So, what do you write about?"

I sighed, smiling. "User manuals."

"Ok, ok. Like that manual that comes with consumer products?"

Here goes. I sighed again.

"Well, technically yes...you could compare it with that, but it's not the same."

He nodded. We talked some more about my background, where I studied and so on.

"So, why don't you work in a newspaper? You did journalism..."

Explained. I told him I also wrote other stuff to gratify myself, like writing fiction and stuff online.

"Ah, yes. My niece also does that."

"Yeah? OK..." I nodded.

"She blocks."

Images of a Karate instructor came to mind. Blocks. Maybe she defends blows. Wait a minute. She could also be working as an anti-spammer. Images of a nerd now.

But just to be sure..." uhhh, block?"

"Yes. What you said just now. Online writing. Block."

"Oh, blog!"

"Yes. Block." He grinned.

"Uh..it's called blogging. It's a 'g'.." I try explaining.

"Oh. But I'm sure she said block." He had this 'wait-lemme-remember' look on his face now.

"So, what is blog? Is it a website?"

"Well, technically yes, but it's more interactive?" I try explaining again.

Five minutes later...

"Nice. Internet has so many facilities these days."

Facilities. Hmmm.

"So, what do you write in your blog?"

I explained again.

"Oh, good. So do you get paid for it?"

I shook my head.

"Then, why...?"

"Well, there are ways of making money on a blog...I explained some more.

He nodded. And then he went on this trip - he used to write as well as a student, college magazines, articles etc etc. He then turned to me.

"Can I blog too?"

"Of course you can."

"Uh...please give me your email ID. You explain to me over email."

I nod. "Sure." I handed him my business card.

"Thanks. But what do I write?"

"It's upto you, sir," I smiled.

"Hmmm," he mulled over it again.

"Can I write to my old friends?"

"You have emails for that, right..sir?" I said.

"Oh, right." He laughed.

He was silent for a few seconds. I did a shut-eye. Then he nudged me.

"I think I will write poems. I used to, you know."

"Great. That's a good way to start," I agreed.

"Can I write in my mother-tongue? You have all these vernacular software, right?"

"Uh..sure, I think you can. But, you might need assistance from someone who has already done that."

I knew what was coming next, so.."I'm afraid I can't help you out on that one." I smiled apologetically. He smiled equally apologetically. I wondered why.

"Ok."

Then he shook my hand. "Thanks, young man."

I smiled. "Pleasure, sir."

He smiled too and left.

I watched him go, and thought, "Interesting man. I must block this."

Joy ride...

1991 - First year of college. And I heard the laughter. I just had to find out who it belonged to. It belonged to you. I'm glad I found out. :-)

1992 - You came into my life. You became a dear friend.

1993 - We fell in love. We made some nervous promises, we didn't know what the road ahead held for us.

1994 - Graduation. The big bad world waited for us. We held hands and promised to stay together.

1995 - While I did my Masters, you worked; took care of your family.

1996 - Some ups, some downs. We managed to brave it together.

1997 - My first job. The going wasn't easy, but you were with me, and that's all that mattered.

1998 - We got married. A big sigh of relief for both of us. Finally we made it!

1999 - Turbulence in work. I lost my job. You held yours. But mostly you held my hand tighter. I can never thank you enough for it.

2000 - We found it hard to make ends meet. But we had each other. Most importantly, I had you.

2001 - I wasn't heading anywhere with my career. I was distraught. You held me firmly and pushed me to do better.

2002 - You gave us the most precious gift one could have - Aayushi! :-)

2003 - Things were getting better. But you decided to stay home and take care of the little one. I didn't want you to sacrifice a great career. You didn't call it sacrifice. You called it a joy-ride.

2004 - Our little one was growing up. And you were there for both of us. We braved some rough weather.

2005 - In between changing jobs, the one thing that didn't change was our love.

2006 - My lucky break. All because of you. But I had miles to go. And your love was the fuel. That was enough.

2007 - Things were settling down. We looked back at how we'd built our home with love and care. And Aayu made it all the more better.

2008 - You decided to pursue your passion for music. I'm so glad you did.

2009 - Another year, another milestone. But we're far from done. We have a lot to look forward to. I'm sure I'll do it with you by my side.

This Saturday (14th) is when you first came into this world, years ago. Probably the best valentine gift God could've given me? We're gonna be away from the online world that day, right? So in advance, Happy Birthday my love!

Booo Chronicles is back... :-)

For those who came in late (it all started here), Boo Chronicles is about one of the most amazing places in Kolkata, the 'Plaza Complex' (name changed, so no use googling it) where the living and the 'already-lived' co-exist harmoniously. Well, harmonious or not..it certainly makes great food for thought. My friend N, who was the manager there, recently found some free time over the weekend to narrate some more incidents,which proved beyond a point that, forget us, even ghosts are touchy when it comes to personal space. Read on.

********

It was late, and N yawned. The clock read 1 AM. But he had to complete two sets of reports for the christmas season round the corner, and had to prepare requisitions for a whole lot of inventory and permissions for various vendors who'd set up their wares on the D day. He knew that the third floor of the house had a small one-room studio apartmentish kind of a guest room, which was reserved for his boss, when he flew in from Mumbai. He decided to spend the night there. He called home, informed his wife and sat down to draft the reports. An hour later, he stepped out of his office and trudged down the stairs. After a few steps, he thought he heard another set of footsteps, echoing his own. 'Clop, clop' and then immediately a 'clop'. He stopped and turned around. No one. He ignored the echoes and reached the ground floor, where the security guy sat. The uniformed man was slumped in his chair. At a glance, you'd think he'd been stabbed or something. The snore gave him away. N woke him up and asked for the keys to the apartment. The guy hastily pulled out the keys from his pocket and handed it to him. As N was returning to the flight of stairs, the janitor, who slept right below there, peeped out and called out.

"Sir, you're still here?"

"Oh, yeah..I had some work, so I decided to sleep over at the Boss' apartment. Why do you ask?"

The small wiry guy quickly stepped out of his bed and came to N.

"Please don't stay there sir. You better go home."

"But why?" N said and paused. Then he shook his head. "Don't tell me..."

The janitor nodded. "Yes, sir. They're there as well."

"Holy ghost," N muttered.

The janitor said. "And this guy is a tad more touchy than the other ones."

N waited for him to continue.

The janitor said, "You know I used to sleep there, on the 3rd floor, right outside the apartment, don't you?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it, I do remember that."

"Hmmm..and now I sleep here on the ground floor. Know why?"

"Enlighten me," N said, sleep slowly hovering over his eyes.

"Well, one night after my usual round of duties, I slept there, in front of the guest room. And in the morning, I found myself here, below these stairs."

N raised his eyebrows.

"Yes sir...and I don't walk in my sleep. Never have. I have been sleeping there for the last four years. And this happened about two months ago. That's when I suspect, the apartment might've had a new visitor."

N scratched his head. "Well, ok. We'll see. Maybe I'll find myself beside you here in the morning." He chuckled and climbed up the stairs to the guest room.

The next morning he woke up inside his car, in the basement parking lot.

********

Lonely night...

Shireesh opened the door and stepped into the silence.

He clicked the lights on, walked over to the couch and slumped in it. He looked at the bottle on the center table and hunched forward to take it. His hands trembled and he slumped back.
He looked around the empty house, which a few hours ago, was filled with laughter and animated gestures. He and Sandeep had planned a perfect evening. Catch a couple of beers, have some chinese grub, and then walk down Brigades to Rex for the night show. He looked at the clock. The movie would've begun; in fact it would be well nearing intermission.

He looked down at his blood-soaked shirt, and dug his fingers into his breast pocket. He pulled out the two tickets he'd booked for the show. With his hand still trembling, he crumpled the tickets and threw them on the floor. He then fished out his cell and navigated to the Contact list. Neethi. Sandeep's girlfriend of two years. His blood-stained thumb hovered around the green button for a few seconds before he threw the instrument on the couch and leaned back, clutching his head. Then he broke down and let it all out for a half hour.

*******

It was a first, for the cops. They found a guy, who would later be identified as Sandeep, with his neck slit. They knew it was 'Knife' Raju's trademark style. But what stymied them was, his own body was right there beside Sandeep's body, his trademark knife sticking in his mouth and out the back of his neck.

*******