John Milton : On His Blindness

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,

And that one talent which is death to hide

Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, lest he returning chide,

"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts: who best

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed

And post o'er land and ocean without rest:

They also serve who only stand and wait.

Gospel Of Matthew : Parable Of 'Talents'

This is a popular anecdote taken from Gospel of Matthew which tells a tale of wasted talent. Its one of the simpler stories from the gospel and talent here means a type of currency doled out in coins; but in context of the story it not just stands for money but also for skill and abilities.

The story is of a master who has 3 servants at his service. He wishes to go out of town on some personal agenda and he distributes a few talents to each of his servants and asks them to make best use of it as he will take account of it on his return.

The master gets back and questions his servants on usage of the talents given to them. The first servant was given 5 talents and he manages to double the amount. He hands over 10 talents to his master thereby pleasing him. The master is all praises for him. The second servant too doubles his talents and wins his master's trust and faith in him by returning him 4 talents.

Now, the last servant digs into the earth and brings out the 1 talent that he was given. The master is unhappy with him because he has wasted his talent. The servant had no clue on how to use the talent to his advantage, he had hidden it.The last servant incurred the wrath of the master; he was stripped of his job and all responsibilities.

The story has the moral teaching for us that we ought to make use of whatever talent that has been bestowed upon us and not just let opportunities go abegging.

The same anecdote also appears in Gospel of Luke and its title Parable of Minas. Another interpretation of this parable is that the third servant did not take part in the vice of his master; he did not multiply the money thereby not giving himself into the hands of a capitalist. But the most accepted interpretation is of 'wasted talent' which also has a mention in John Milton's sonnet On His Blindness.

fiat grande punto - first look

a hatchback from fiat will soon hit the roads in grand style. yes, its the grande punto!



not very impressed with its front look, resembles a tata indica. the rear looks like maruti swift and the profile view is like hyundai getz prime.


this car is the successor of fiat uno, and the hangover of uno can be seen allover its design pattern.


it would be priced around 6lakh including road tax. if its priced more than that, it would be difficult to seek buyers since they face stiff competition from hyundai and maruti in this segment of hatchback.

for more info, check out TEAM-BHP

The Shawshank Redemption : God Sees The Truth But Waits

Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
- A line that Andy Dufresne says in the movie

There is never a wrong time to watch the right movie. And I am not just saying this because I saw the movie The Shawshank Redemption a decade and a half after it was made, I am saying it because its a movie that everyone should see. On hindsight, I feel that its a good thing that I saw the movie at a time when I would be able to absorb more of it than I would have been able to, had I seen it when I was 13 yrs old. But at that age, I did read a story by Count Leo Tolstoy, as a part of our ICSE syllabus, called God Sees The Truth But Waits. Although the gist of the story by Tolstoy, Rita Hayworth And Shawshank Redemption story by Stephen King notwithstanding, is the same; but the movie achieves what the story does not. The movie is the ultimate example of hope against reason, happiness against murkiness and victory of the human spirit against all odds.

The movie starts with a double murder and the ensuing court case, but that's not what the movie is about. That's just the catalyst which brings Andy Dufresne, the murder accused, and Ellis Boyd Redding, a term serving prisoner who has been in jail for 20 years and still counting. No two people could have been as different as these two were; different race, different socio-economic background, different crimes, different outlook towards life - what a leveller the prison is! Its an unlikely friendship that they have, which starts off as Red being the person who can get things into the prison for his inmates and Andy contacting him because he needs a few articles from the outside world; and this acquaintance takes the shape of friendship as time passes and as they begin sharing their innermost thoughts and confide in each other.

When Andy enters the Shawshank prison, he is your typical blue-collared banker who keeps to himself and is taken to be a snob. But the realization soon dawns upon him that he has to spend two back-to-back life terms amidst these very people. Just as water takes the shape of the container in which its poured, so also Andy learns to adapt. He brings his banking experience to play doling out tax advice to the warden and other keepers of the prison; he starts filing their taxes and advices them on loans and insurance. He wins them over with his smartness, but annoys them once in a while with his obstinacy.

Andy is a very unassuming character; he never chides at anyone, never complains out of frustration, never blames God or destiny for his current status in prison. He takes things as it comes, very calmly. Life moves on, Andy continues impressing the warden with his accountancy skills, running a small scam, making big bucks for the warden. Andy also gets himself involved in trying to get funds from the Govt for the prison library. He manages to get $200 sanctioned after writing to them a-letter-a-week for 6 years on the trot.

In the meantime, an old prisoner, Heywood, who had spent 50 years in jail, gets a parole and release. When an eagle is raised among ostriches, it never learns how to fly. Heywood suffered from the same problem when he was asked to leave the prison, he just wanted to stay-on because he knew no other way of living. He did go out, but it was not very long before which he gave up his life because he could not come to terms with it. I guess he desired for a greater form of liberty, not just from the prison!

Here's where it makes the most sense. You need it so we don't forget...that there are places in the world that aren't made out of stone, that there's, there's somethin' inside that they can't get to, that they can't touch. It's yours.

I do believe that books and music are two things which nobody can snatch from us. Even if we are taken captive, the offenders can take our freedom but not the soul, they can brutalise our bodies but not bend the spirit. And thats the code Andy lives by. The immense pleasure he derives out of listening to Mozart on the gramophone, in the face of open rebellion, signifies that. He later pays for it by spending one-week-in-the-hole but he finds that totally worth it. Red, as a narrator, is among the prisoners who enjoyed those few minutes of Italian music, although he understood nothing of it.

I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are better left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and it makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was as if some beautiful bird had flapped into our drab little cage and made these walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.

Red has two parole-seeking interviews, one when he had completed 20 yrs in prison and the other when he completed 30. And he is disillusioned about ever getting out of the jail. On the other hand, Andy is a man of hope and will power. Hope is like the candle in the wind, it can guide us home if we have it or it can dessert us if we don't. Hope is what drives the world, what makes us open our eyes each morning in search of better tomorrow. Hope is what pushes an egyptologist in search of Tutankhamen, what forces a scientist to continue his endeavour in string theory and hope is what makes a geologist excavate a 500 yard tunnel in search of a newer world. But hope can be a dangerous thing, as Red warns Andy. Hope can drive a man crazy, looking for neanderthal in the artic. That's the reason Red does not want hope, he believes hope has no place in Shawshank.

But Andy, with hope in his eyes and will in his heart, continues biding his time. His hopes suddenly gain new hooves when Tommy enters the prison for a two year term. Having got bored of his current responsibilities, Andy finds a new way of killing time. He takes Tommy under his wings and begins teaching him as Tommy wishes to complete his education. But again, Tommy is not merely a timepass, he is a messenger of God. What he reveals to Andy is almost incredible and it gives wings to Andy's flights of fantasy. Andy begins dreaming of a life outside of prison, sooner or later.

Andy : Tell you where I'd go. Zihuatanejo!
Red : Zihuatanejo?
Andy : Mexico. Little place right on the Pacific. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? They say it has no memory. That's where I'd like to finish out my life, Red. A warm place with no memory. Open a little hotel right on the beach. Buy some worthless old boat and fix it up like new. Take my guests out charter fishing. You know, a place like that, I'd need a man who can get things.

What transpires next is a mere formality because I always knew it all along. It was just a matter of time, and the time had come. Destiny beckoned Andy and he did not look back, ever again. As Red narrates in his inimitable voice:

Andy Dufresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side.

The movie is also about great friendships, as I had mentioned earlier. The bonding and the feeling of camaraderie is for real. While Andy is still in prison, in his astral projection he has already been to the hayfields of Buxton in Maine, and near the oak tree, under a rock, he has placed a little something for Red, if he were ever to get out of prison. Andy gives the best thing that any friend can ever give - that little something is more than hope, its a reason to live. And that's what great friendship is all about, having and sharing.

Its a new day in Shawshank, and a new officer who comes to interview Red for his parole approval. In a very uncharacteristic manner, Red tries to be as undiplomatic as possible. He has had enough of this farce and in his third appearance at the hearing he no longer cares whether they accept or reject his nomination. He has no faith in God and no hope as well. But God works in strange ways. Sometimes we toil and toil to the best of our abilities but have no outcome; whereas sometimes a little nudge, a small push just moves a mountain; it probably works on law of averages. Anyways, God did not answer Red's prayers because Red never prayed; but he did listen to  Andy's hopes and dreams.

Rehabilitated? Well now, let me see. You know, I don't have any idea what that means...I know what you think it means. To me, it's just a made-up word, a politician's word so that young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did?...There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. And not because I'm in here or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then. A young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone. This old man is all that's left. I gotta live with that. 'Rehabilitated?' That's just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your forms, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.

Red, finally, gets the the approval for parole this time; much against his own expectations. He lands up in the same shanty quarter where Heywood had resided for a while. But that was the only coincidence, because fate had different things planned. Red recalls what Andy had once told him about the volcanic glass and the rock under which something awaits him. Yes, Red is now filled with as much anxiety as Archimedes was filled with when he cracked the floatation theory, and wanted to get there in a hurry. He does so, and as promised by Andy, there lies a box filled with hope, fufillment of a promise, a testimony of friendship and the freedom of a seagull.

Redemption, hope, friendship and undying faith in God's actions, is what differentiates the Leo Tolstoy story from this movie. The movie is an absolute delight as we see Red setting off on a journey to begin life all over again.

I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain... I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.

Morgan Freeman as Red is fabulous. His narration is filled with poignancy, enthusiasm, emotion and chirpiness. And his performance is among the best that I have seen of him; pausing at the right moments, speaking when required, emoting when necessary and breathing life into the role. Tim Robbins, as Andy Dufresne, on the other hand has given a well restrained performance. I had earlier seen him in Mystic River, another grave movie. He excels in the portrayal of the never-say-die spirit. Its all credit to the script which gives him enough scope to bring out the best in him. And finally, Frank Darabont as the director, has done a wonderful job. This actually is the first full length directorial venture of his, but that never shows in the movie. That in itself is the victory of the director. He steered the ship of the movie so well that it earned 7 Oscar nominations, no wins though.

Ending the post on a happier note, I think its one of the best that I have seen. The movie has a lot to offer, it just does not end there. It gives us a thought to take home and churn. Ultimately, there are only two ways to lead life, it just boils down to a simple choice ... Get busy living, or get busy dying ...

amrita rao turns sexy

Tolstoy's Short Story - God Sees The Truth But Waits

In the town of Vladimir lived a young merchant named Ivan Dmitrich Aksionov. He had two shops and a house of his own.

Aksionov was a handsome, fair-haired, curly-headed fellow, full of fun, and very fond of singing. When quite a young man he had been given to drink, and was riotous when he had had too much; but after he married he gave up drinking, except now and then.

One summer Aksionov was going to the Nizhny Fair, and as he bade good-bye to his family, his wife said to him, "Ivan Dmitrich, do not start to-day; I have had a bad dream about you."

Aksionov laughed, and said, "You are afraid that when I get to the fair I shall go on a spree."

His wife replied: "I do not know what I am afraid of; all I know is that I had a bad dream. I dreamt you returned from the town, and when you took off your cap I saw that your hair was quite grey."

Aksionov laughed. "That's a lucky sign," said he. "See if I don't sell out all my goods, and bring you some presents from the fair."

So he said good-bye to his family, and drove away.

When he had travelled half-way, he met a merchant whom he knew, and they put up at the same inn for the night. They had some tea together, and then went to bed in adjoining rooms.

It was not Aksionov's habit to sleep late, and, wishing to travel while it was still cool, he aroused his driver before dawn, and told him to put in the horses.

Then he made his way across to the landlord of the inn (who lived in a cottage at the back), paid his bill, and continued his journey.

When he had gone about twenty-five miles, he stopped for the horses to be fed. Aksionov rested awhile in the passage of the inn, then he stepped out into the porch, and, ordering a samovar to be heated, got out his guitar and began to play.

Suddenly a troika drove up with tinkling bells and an official alighted, followed by two soldiers. He came to Aksionov and began to question him, asking him who he was and whence he came. Aksionov answered him fully, and said, "Won't you have some tea with me?" But the official went on cross-questioning him and asking him. "Where did you spend last night? Were you alone, or with a fellow-merchant? Did you see the other merchant this morning? Why did you leave the inn before dawn?"

Aksionov wondered why he was asked all these questions, but he described all that had happened, and then added, "Why do you cross-question me as if I were a thief or a robber? I am travelling on business of my own, and there is no need to question me."

Then the official, calling the soldiers, said, "I am the police-officer of this district, and I question you because the merchant with whom you spent last night has been found with his throat cut. We must search your things."

They entered the house. The soldiers and the police-officer unstrapped Aksionov's luggage and searched it. Suddenly the officer drew a knife out of a bag, crying, "Whose knife is this?"

Aksionov looked, and seeing a blood-stained knife taken from his bag, he was frightened.

"How is it there is blood on this knife?"

Aksionov tried to answer, but could hardly utter a word, and only stammered: "I--don't know--not mine." Then the police-officer said: "This morning the merchant was found in bed with his throat cut. You are the only person who could have done it. The house was locked from inside, and no one else was there. Here is this blood-stained knife in your bag and your face and manner betray you! Tell me how you killed him, and how much money you stole?"

Aksionov swore he had not done it; that he had not seen the merchant after they had had tea together; that he had no money except eight thousand rubles of his own, and that the knife was not his. But his voice was broken, his face pale, and he trembled with fear as though he went guilty.

The police-officer ordered the soldiers to bind Aksionov and to put him in the cart. As they tied his feet together and flung him into the cart, Aksionov crossed himself and wept. His money and goods were taken from him, and he was sent to the nearest town and imprisoned there. Enquiries as to his character were made in Vladimir. The merchants and other inhabitants of that town said that in former days he used to drink and waste his time, but that he was a good man. Then the trial came on: he was charged with murdering a merchant from Ryazan, and robbing him of twenty thousand rubles.

His wife was in despair, and did not know what to believe. Her children were all quite small; one was a baby at her breast. Taking them all with her, she went to the town where her husband was in jail. At first she was not allowed to see him; but after much begging, she obtained permission from the officials, and was taken to him. When she saw her husband in prison-dress and in chains, shut up with thieves and criminals, she fell down, and did not come to her senses for a long time. Then she drew her children to her, and sat down near him. She told him of things at home, and asked about what had happened to him. He told her all, and she asked, "What can we do now?"

"We must petition the Czar not to let an innocent man perish."

His wife told him that she had sent a petition to the Czar, but it had not been accepted.

Aksionov did not reply, but only looked downcast.

Then his wife said, "It was not for nothing I dreamt your hair had turned grey. You remember? You should not have started that day." And passing her fingers through his hair, she said: "Vanya dearest, tell your wife the truth; was it not you who did it?"

"So you, too, suspect me!" said Aksionov, and, hiding his face in his hands, he began to weep. Then a soldier came to say that the wife and children must go away; and Aksionov said good-bye to his family for the last time.

When they were gone, Aksionov recalled what had been said, and when he remembered that his wife also had suspected him, he said to himself, "It seems that only God can know the truth; it is to Him alone we must appeal, and from Him alone expect mercy."

And Aksionov wrote no more petitions; gave up all hope, and only prayed to God.

Aksionov was condemned to be flogged and sent to the mines. So he was flogged with a knot, and when the wounds made by the knot were healed, he was driven to Siberia with other convicts.

For twenty-six years Aksionov lived as a convict in Siberia. His hair turned white as snow, and his beard grew long, thin, and grey. All his mirth went; he stooped; he walked slowly, spoke little, and never laughed, but he often prayed.

In prison Aksionov learnt to make boots, and earned a little money, with which he bought The Lives of the Saints. He read this book when there was light enough in the prison; and on Sundays in the prison-church he read the lessons and sang in the choir; for his voice was still good.

The prison authorities liked Aksionov for his meekness, and his fellow-prisoners respected him: they called him "Grandfather," and "The Saint." When they wanted to petition the prison authorities about anything, they always made Aksionov their spokesman, and when there were quarrels among the prisoners they came to him to put things right, and to judge the matter.

No news reached Aksionov from his home, and he did not even know if his wife and children were still alive.

One day a fresh gang of convicts came to the prison. In the evening the old prisoners collected round the new ones and asked them what towns or villages they came from, and what they were sentenced for. Among the rest Aksionov sat down near the newcomers, and listened with downcast air to what was said.

One of the new convicts, a tall, strong man of sixty, with a closely-cropped grey beard, was telling the others what be had been arrested for.

"Well, friends," he said, "I only took a horse that was tied to a sledge, and I was arrested and accused of stealing. I said I had only taken it to get home quicker, and had then let it go; besides, the driver was a personal friend of mine. So I said, 'It's all right.' 'No,' said they, 'you stole it.' But how or where I stole it they could not say. I once really did something wrong, and ought by rights to have come here long ago, but that time I was not found out. Now I have been sent here for nothing at all... Eh, but it's lies I'm telling you; I've been to Siberia before, but I did not stay long."

"Where are you from?" asked some one.

"From Vladimir. My family are of that town. My name is Makar, and they also call me Semyonich."

Aksionov raised his head and said: "Tell me, Semyonich, do you know anything of the merchants Aksionov of Vladimir? Are they still alive?"

"Know them? Of course I do. The Aksionovs are rich, though their father is in Siberia: a sinner like ourselves, it seems! As for you, Gran'dad, how did you come here?"

Aksionov did not like to speak of his misfortune. He only sighed, and said, "For my sins I have been in prison these twenty-six years."

"What sins?" asked Makar Semyonich.

But Aksionov only said, "Well, well--I must have deserved it!" He would have said no more, but his companions told the newcomers how Aksionov came to be in Siberia; how some one had killed a merchant, and had put the knife among Aksionov's things, and Aksionov had been unjustly condemned.

When Makar Semyonich heard this, he looked at Aksionov, slapped his own knee, and exclaimed, "Well, this is wonderful! Really wonderful! But how old you've grown, Gran'dad!"

The others asked him why he was so surprised, and where he had seen Aksionov before; but Makar Semyonich did not reply. He only said: "It's wonderful that we should meet here, lads!"

These words made Aksionov wonder whether this man knew who had killed the merchant; so he said, "Perhaps, Semyonich, you have heard of that affair, or maybe you've seen me before?"

"How could I help hearing? The world's full of rumours. But it's a long time ago, and I've forgotten what I heard."

"Perhaps you heard who killed the merchant?" asked Aksionov.

Makar Semyonich laughed, and replied: "It must have been him in whose bag the knife was found! If some one else hid the knife there, 'He's not a thief till he's caught,' as the saying is. How could any one put a knife into your bag while it was under your head? It would surely have woke you up."

When Aksionov heard these words, he felt sure this was the man who had killed the merchant. He rose and went away. All that night Aksionov lay awake. He felt terribly unhappy, and all sorts of images rose in his mind. There was the image of his wife as she was when he parted from her to go to the fair. He saw her as if she were present; her face and her eyes rose before him; he heard her speak and laugh. Then he saw his children, quite little, as they: were at that time: one with a little cloak on, another at his mother's breast. And then he remembered himself as he used to be-young and merry. He remembered how he sat playing the guitar in the porch of the inn where he was arrested, and how free from care he had been. He saw, in his mind, the place where he was flogged, the executioner, and the people standing around; the chains, the convicts, all the twenty-six years of his prison life, and his premature old age. The thought of it all made him so wretched that he was ready to kill himself.

"And it's all that villain's doing!" thought Aksionov. And his anger was so great against Makar Semyonich that he longed for vengeance, even if he himself should perish for it. He kept repeating prayers all night, but could get no peace. During the day he did not go near Makar Semyonich, nor even look at him.

A fortnight passed in this way. Aksionov could not sleep at night, and was so miserable that he did not know what to do.

One night as he was walking about the prison he noticed some earth that came rolling out from under one of the shelves on which the prisoners slept. He stopped to see what it was. Suddenly Makar Semyonich crept out from under the shelf, and looked up at Aksionov with frightened face. Aksionov tried to pass without looking at him, but Makar seized his hand and told him that he had dug a hole under the wall, getting rid of the earth by putting it into his high-boots, and emptying it out every day on the road when the prisoners were driven to their work.

"Just you keep quiet, old man, and you shall get out too. If you blab, they'll flog the life out of me, but I will kill you first."

Aksionov trembled with anger as he looked at his enemy. He drew his hand away, saying, "I have no wish to escape, and you have no need to kill me; you killed me long ago! As to telling of you--I may do so or not, as God shall direct."

Next day, when the convicts were led out to work, the convoy soldiers noticed that one or other of the prisoners emptied some earth out of his boots. The prison was searched and the tunnel found. The Governor came and questioned all the prisoners to find out who had dug the hole. They all denied any knowledge of it. Those who knew would not betray Makar Semyonich, knowing he would be flogged almost to death. At last the Governor turned to Aksionov whom he knew to be a just man, and said:

"You are a truthful old man; tell me, before God, who dug the hole?"

Makar Semyonich stood as if he were quite unconcerned, looking at the Governor and not so much as glancing at Aksionov. Aksionov's lips and hands trembled, and for a long time he could not utter a word. He thought, "Why should I screen him who ruined my life? Let him pay for what I have suffered. But if I tell, they will probably flog the life out of him, and maybe I suspect him wrongly. And, after all, what good would it be to me?"

"Well, old man," repeated the Governor, "tell me the truth: who has been digging under the wall?"

Aksionov glanced at Makar Semyonich, and said, "I cannot say, your honour. It is not God's will that I should tell! Do what you like with me; I am your hands."

However much the Governor! tried, Aksionov would say no more, and so the matter had to be left.

That night, when Aksionov was lying on his bed and just beginning to doze, some one came quietly and sat down on his bed. He peered through the darkness and recognised Makar.

"What more do you want of me?" asked Aksionov. "Why have you come here?"

Makar Semyonich was silent. So Aksionov sat up and said, "What do you want? Go away, or I will call the guard!"

Makar Semyonich bent close over Aksionov, and whispered, "Ivan Dmitrich, forgive me!"

"What for?" asked Aksionov.

"It was I who killed the merchant and hid the knife among your things. I meant to kill you too, but I heard a noise outside, so I hid the knife in your bag and escaped out of the window."

Aksionov was silent, and did not know what to say. Makar Semyonich slid off the bed-shelf and knelt upon the ground. "Ivan Dmitrich," said he, "forgive me! For the love of God, forgive me! I will confess that it was I who killed the merchant, and you will be released and can go to your home."

"It is easy for you to talk," said Aksionov, "but I have suffered for you these twenty-six years. Where could I go to now?... My wife is dead, and my children have forgotten me. I have nowhere to go..."

Makar Semyonich did not rise, but beat his head on the floor. "Ivan Dmitrich, forgive me!" he cried. "When they flogged me with the knot it was not so hard to bear as it is to see you now ... yet you had pity on me, and did not tell. For Christ's sake forgive me, wretch that I am!" And he began to sob.

When Aksionov heard him sobbing he, too, began to weep. "God will forgive you!" said he. "Maybe I am a hundred times worse than you." And at these words his heart grew light, and the longing for home left him. He no longer had any desire to leave the prison, but only hoped for his last hour to come.

In spite of what Aksionov had said, Makar Semyonich confessed, his guilt. But when the order for his release came, Aksionov was already dead.

shamita shetty sizzles

kal kisne dekha : who wants to see it anyways?

i hate movies that are made just to launch sons and daughters of celebrity couples. in this case, vashu bhagnani, the magnanimous movie producer, has got a fancy launch vehicle for his son as if it were the latest bike. and as expected, the son rides that very vehicle and runs down all and sundry.

jacky bhagnani, the actor who can't act, plays the hero. well, there is nothing worth writing about; so no point going into it.

long back i had read that a good book is one which people lie that they have read and a bad book is one which people never admit they have read. the same goes for movies, and this is one of those movies which will show you in low stand if you do slip into admittance of having seen it. make better use of your weekend, avoid it totally.

honda jazz - finally here

after a long long wait, honda jazz has finally come to india. it was launched yesterday, 10th june; and here are some captures from TEAM-BHP


the car is priced at 7.75 lakhs ex-showroom, and the base model would cost around 7 lakhs


its a rarity that the same model is sold all over the world without any changes in body-design or interiors. the dashboard is just fabulous.



for more info and review, click here

french open 2009 ends on happy note

there is lots to cheer about the results of the french open this year. leander paes won the mens-doubles match and brought much pride to india.

and finally, roger federer conquered french open. the absence of nadal may have made it easier, psychologically. but that was just an advantage which he had to make good of. and champion players don't miss out on such opportunities. i am so happy for him. at last, after so many tormenting months federer is champion again.

and the best part was the lovely steffi graf's presence in the womens-singles final match, where she was present. she is still so beautiful...

world environment day ... what a farce!

just see this video, one of the best comic acts, that dispels the notion of events like 'world environment day' and 'save the planet'. george carlin at his best...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eScDfYzMEEw&hl=en&fs=1&]

ford fiesta sedan - first offical pictures

few days back, at china's guangzhou auto-show, ford fiesta sedan was showcased.



it was a subtle way of revealing ford's strategy and how china features in their scheme of things.



the car will be available all across asia and north-america by 2010. it will not be marketed/sold in europe though.



no technical details are out yet. watch this space to know more.

cm's yesterday, cm's today

manmohan singh's cabinet has taken a long time to come. and guess whom we see in the ministeries??? all ex-chief ministers are now cabinet minsters.

here's a small list of such people:
sm krishna
veerappa moily
virbhadra singh
vilas rao deshmukh
farooq abdullah
sharad pawar
ghulam nabi azad
sushil kumar shinde
ak anthony
vayalar ravi

they are senior leaders and have served the party well. and their cm tenure should have been more than enough. why make them cabinet ministers? they were cm's yesterday, they are cm's today

MNS Disrupts Photo-shoot

MNS does it again. A few days back they disrupted the photo-shoot which was happening in a Juhu, Mumbai.

The ph0to-shoot was no doubt hot, as Neetu Chandra and Krishikha Gupta were slugging it out on the poolside in a bikini.

While they were still in the heat of the moment, loud sloganeering 'Jai Maharashtra' was heard. And soon enough, the MNS goons appeared and they halted the photo-shoot.

The shoot was on for the cover of The Man magazine, when Raj Thackeray's men stopped proceedings.

BigB Wax Idol In Madame Tussauds NYC

Amitabh Bachchan's wax idol now makes its debut in the Madame Tussauds Museum in New York.

The backdrop of the statue is a replica of the Taj Mahal.


In fact, this idol is much better than the one which they had put-up in London. The previous idol seemed amateurish, while this looks fine; they got the proportions right and the face is much-much better. So, do rush to NYC and photograph yourself with BigB.

ipl2 finals - kal ke zero, aaj ke hero

last year ipl ended with RCB and DC being at the bottom of the points table. and this year, we have RCB and DC being the finalists of ipl2.

in fact, at the beginning of ipl2, RCB did not have a good start. but change of captaincy and change of attitude has helped them. on the other hand, DC started off the tourney in a great way under the leadership of gilchrist.

whoever wins tomorrow, ipl2 has been a success. i will be cheering RCB, may the best team win. both the teams are winners, coming back from the dumps. zero yesterday, hero today!

with power comes arrogance ...

manmohan singh was sworn-in yesterday as the new pm of india. it was a momentous occasion as the 15th lok sabha had given a decisive verdict in favour of congress(i) and since 1971, manmohan singh is the first pm to complete a full 5 yrs term and voted back to power.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IM4YI5Bdho&hl=en&fs=1]

since 1991, this has been cong's best performance with a whopping 200+ seats. and this unpredicted success has probably gone to their head. they are suddenly found distancing themselves from their allies. while dmk was over-expecting by asking for so many ministries, but yet cong should try and mend their ways and politely disagree. no point in angering your allies, they will come handy during crisis and approval of important bills.

similarly, even rjd and sp should be kept in good humour. lalu yadav has been behind the cong and supported sonia gandhi during worst of crisis like 'foreign origin' issue etc. i surely do believe that cong should try and keep all their allies happy by distributing the goodies with everybody. cong should share the pie with everybody and not just make them eat humble pie. cong is in danger of falling into the power-trap, coz with power comes arrogance...

time management personality types

recently i had a session on time management and quite a lot of things were spoken about skills and techniques involved in using time in a more efficient manner.  my personal opinion, albeit a little philosophical, is that we don't manage time but time manages us. time for me is synonymous with destiny, as we usually say time-time ki baat hai

anyways, coming back to the session, a very interesting thing remained with me even after walking out of the session. it was about the various time management personality types based on the way in which different types of people manage themselves within the given time-frame or how they use their time, their behaviour pattern etc. here goes the types, place yourself in it:

perfectionist: these guys are, more often than not, over-indulgent. they get into minute details and begin micro-managing things. they never do a hurried job coz they want to be precise about everything.


fireman: these people treat every incident as critical. they are always on the run, from one crisis to another. they are busy putting out fire, extinguish one then move to the next. they burn-out soon, that's a major consequence.

over-committer: these guys accept every task that comes their way. they just cannot refuse anything that's asked of them. this results in them always running away from the very people who have assigned him tasks.

chatty-kathy: these guys have very good communication skills and thye just can't stop themselves from indulging into small-talk with every tom-dick-harry. this talkative nature leads to pending tasks and unfinished work.

aquarian: these are another breed of people who have work piled on their desk. but its not because they are chatty, its because they are tardy. not just tardy, sometimes they don't even have the wllingness to perform.

having read these, where do you place yourself?

KKR salvage pride, MI bring shame

kkr have won the last two matches and salvaged some pride. in fact, they have ended their ipl2 on a positive note with a win. this will boost them up as well as bring some cheer to srk. and more importantly, it was not a match of no consequence. kkr's win actually resulted in rajasthan royals being out of the tourney. that in itself would have given them immense satisfaction. kkr peaked a little too late; a case of too little, too late.

on the other hand, MI haven't played to their potential at all. they have been a big let-down. the team that boasts of tendulkar, jayasuriya, zaheer khan etc just haven't played their best cricket. they have lost 3 close matches which they should have won. if a team can't chase 120[lost to RCB] and if they can't score 4 runs off 6 balls then they don't deserve to be in the semis.

paan singh tomar - a soldier, an athlete, a bandit

i had not heard of PST ever, until the day tigmanshu dhulia announced that he would be making a movie on him.

initially i thought it was some fictitious character coz the name sounded quite strange. but i was in for a big surprise when i did a bit of reserach on PST and realised that tigmanshu was getting ready to shoot a biographical on a real life character.

PST is quite an enigma, his story is definitely worth telling. a man who served the army in the 'rajputana rifles', took to the tracks and created national records in steeplechase, picked up arms and became a bandit and finally was shot dead by police in an encounter. what a fascinating tale to tell!

in 1958 national games held in cuttack, he timed 9mins & 12.4 sec in the steeplechase event and created a national record. later, in 1964 Open Meet he broke his own record at the karnail singh stadium, delhi with a timing of 9mins & 4 sec.

in between the two records, in 1962 during the India-Germany meet he won the gold medal.

so, what made hin take up the gun? 1960's was a difficult phase for india. there was the impact of 2 wars and of course the widespread poverty and slow-rate of development. maybe such social issues and class barrier, impoverished demography, and a non-paying sports field and army-life may have pushed him into desperation. he became a bandit.

and he was finally put to rest in a police encounter. a sad end to a life which had seen more glories and deserved much more than he got.

it will be difficult for tigmanshu to translate this complex story on screen because very less is known abt PST. there is not much info available, no photographs or videos of his athletic skills etc. i believe his coaches and close friends are still there to recount the tale.

what i have stated above as a disadvantage can turn into advantage because it gives tigmanshu the freedom to mould the character any-which-way since little is known about him. and with irfan khan playing the lead, i am sure he will do justice to the character. all the best to the team of PST. hope to see this character come alive on screen, pretty soon.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzrOSwmor-A&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1]