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Day 26: Random thoughts

The blog completed 11 years on Friday and honestly, I’ve stopped keep track of celebrations or anniversary and hits for that matter while a random check saw this congratulatory message popping on WordPress. 2007 was the year this blog was created during the Monsoon and been an Indian blog that has conserved its ethos over time. I’ve moved countries during the past decade but the blog is still what it is, conserving its Indian charm and identity.

More than a decade of writing and remember one of the first posts, if not the first, was about Mumbai, the city I was living in, amateurish film reviews and sobbing stories of my break-up, one the reasons that pushed me to move out. Let’s move on and flip the pages buried in the past. Pretty much like last month when the birthday was celebrated and honestly speaking, such moments have stopped making sense to me where I am on an alien space. It’s therapeutic to remove all those birthday notification on FB and Linkedin for the three years that gave serenity and mental peace. At some point, find it overbearing to read so much of messages and decided one day to tune off. Better to keep it among closed friends for they are the ones who wouldn’t miss to wish me. I like to keep such things personal and not wanting the entire world to know, not even distant relatives or neighbors. I have always been like that and even during college times, very few close friends knew about the day.

There is M who is a very close friend from college who makes a point every year to wish me Happy birthday and did share with some close college friends on WhatsApp who forgot but not beyond that. I think birthdays have become like New Year resolutions, where we make vows, forget the year that flitted past us or setting new targets to achieve. Nothing of that sort happens with me. I am learning to take one thing at a time and perhaps one achievable thing is to be more regular jotting in the personal diary, striving to be more composed and happy with myself, flushing out negative thoughts. Over time, I have been able to declutter negativity but there is still a little bit in me. See, I am not completely cured of it or anxiety that keeps plaguing me. But, then, I am a work-in-progress.

Writing took a toll during the past month. I’ve struggled in penning a fiction story for a friend since three months and finally almost done in weaving the entire story in episodes. The lack of creative ideas, irregular blog posts and the novel I am trying to do have been lost in translation. More practice is needed to hone my skills and sit in concentration mode to churn out ideas, translating them on paper. The worst is to edit the end product to make it clean and a lost battle. Reason why I mentioned on the need to take one thing at a time and stop dabbling with so many things on a single day. It can get frustrating but there is no dearth of solution if we want to.






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Book Review: Rishi Kapoor’s Khullam Khulla is a brazen tale

Book Review: Khullam Khulla Rishi Kapoor-Uncensored

Author: Rishi Kapoor with Meena Iyer

Publisher: Harper Collins

Rating: Four stars



The sassy tweets bearing the signature style of the quintessential lover boy, chocolate hero and everlasting romantic hero of the 70s, 80s and early 90s, Rishi Kapoor bares it all in his biography Khullam Khulla, leaving little to the mind’s imagination. A candid tale, Rishi Kapoor’s Khullam Khulla comes across as a super honest and brazen take on his personal life, choice of movies, affairs, and pretty much like the gregarious Kapoor’s khandaan lifestyle where the autobiography doesn’t spare anyone or anything. While Khullam Khulla weaves the spiciest tales on what goes behind the silver screen or lives of celebrities sold like hot pancake by gossip mills, this Rishi Kapoor’s tales lights up at every episode, whipping a storm and coming as breezy, nothing less than a 70 mm blockbuster.



Spicy tales, an insider view, no hold and bare it all truth makes Khullam Khulla a sassy, juice, breezy and at times revealing.  The angry young man Amitabh Bachchan and the lover boy Rishi Kapoor were arch rivals in the glory days but very few know of the cold stares between both superstars till the author reveals on what went behind the curtain.  One gotta give it to Rishi Kapoor since we have been hearing stories on awards being bought when he candidly admits of being young and reckless the time, he wrestled the Filmfare best actor award right under the nose of the angry young man who was a favorite for Zanjeer.

“I am sure he felt the award was rightfully his for Zanjeer….I am ashamed to say it, but I actually ‘bought’ that award”

The 22-year old Kapoor brat actually bought his first Filmfare Award for Rs 30,000 in those days. We may pop our eye socket wide open on whether Rishi Kapoor did the right thing or not, but at least he doesn’t bat an eyelid while being so honest on the entire thing. He doesn’t stop here on his equation with Amitabh Bachchan where both did a spate of movies from Amar Akbar Anthony, Naseeb and Kabhie Kabhie.  He hints at the cold war during the making of Kabhie Kabhie and uncomfortable vibes where he was probably the youngest who would not call him Amit-Ji but Amitabh. The real Rishi Kapoor comes out in the open and doesn’t flinch in spelling out his equation with colleagues or the bone he still picks with Amitabh because according to him the latter has never credited his colleagues for his success and a begrudging feeling that roles were written exclusively for the megastar.


Rishi Kapoor

The book scores high with Kapoor recounting how Kaka aka Rajesh Khanna, he labeled the Raj Kapoor bhakt felt threatened by him as the romantic new kid and despite reaching a maturity age, Kaka still felt that he was a romantic hero. The incorrigible and sadistic actor doesn’t stop at anything and confessed his manipulative streak on doing everything to dissuade his father Raj Kapoor not to cast Kaka in Satyam Shivam Sundaram. There are many among celebrities who would portray only the good side in their personalities but Kapoor is the in-your-face hard to please persona while speaking about his equation with wife Neetu Kapoor who felt threatened at some point by Dimple Kapadia, and at the same time he took responsibility for any ripples in the marriage.

Of course, there was the depression era after a string of flops, the failure to get up or becoming paranoid that big set lights would crash on his head, something which Amitabh Bachchan confessed to him of facing strikingly similar things. I am personally happy that Rishi Kapoor spoke about the depression in today’s times where efforts are being taken to lift off the taboo seen all over the place on social media hashtag posts about depression being real. If someone as big as Rishi Kapoor can speak about depression openly, it can do lots to change perception, removing taboos or fight prejudices.

There is no denying the fact that Rishi Kapoor opened the can of worms on the extramarital affairs that Raj Kapoor had with Nargis and Vijantimala so much that his mother along with a very younger Chintu version decided to leave the house. Kapoor doesn’t spare yesteryear actor Vijayantimala for denying the affair that was ‘manufactured for publicity’ and it’s one excerpt in the book which is a must-read.

The book is meaty and the more you want, you get it right from an uneasy relationship between the author and his father, thespian Raj Kapoor during the drunken, eccentric instances of coming back home at night. Some light moments are captured in the book, right from how stealing cigarette stubs or leftover expensive whiskeys after the gala parties at home only to be whacked later, the ‘famous spat’ with Javed Akhtar, Feroz Khan-Shammi Kapoor drunken brawl for flimsy reasons that shook his father but both ended boozing together after the fight, a tryst with the star-struck Dawood Ibrahim splurging gifts on him which he refused and that surely must have been a scary experience. I mean, how on earth, someone thwarts away the underworld Don, knowing that at some point, he had an influence on the film industry.

The tiff with Jeetendra and Rakesh Roshan, once drunk buddies to a jealous Sanjay Dutt coming to beat him at the apartment for thinking about an off-screen tango with his then-girlfriend or this hilarious anecdote of uncorking the mystery behind Boney Kapoor visit to the hotel in Goa at midnight to meet Sridevi, booking a room under the name ‘Achal Kapoor’ his real name adds spark to the tales.

The book carries a wisdom lesson on the mark of a good actor lip-synching and the superstar gives a handy tip for the younger breed to sing aloud to make the perfect pitch while the camera is still rolling.  It’s probably one of the best advice tendered by the thespian to new actors stepping in front of the camera on how to match the playback singer, heed the music’s tempo and instruments to make it real. Another thing that I willfully agree with the superstar is on the lack of connection between actors and team of music directors. Why the need for our directors to apologize on songs and dance? I agree with Rishi Kapoor that music or what some call with prejudice, running behind the trees form part of our indelible charm in the movie culture where in the name of authenticity, an important aspect of Hindi cinema is being lost. A sheer lesson in realism by Rishi Kapoor and hope our cinema doesn’t lose this ‘soulful’ aspect of film-making or lights, camera and action.

What’s Not!

Being myself a die-hard Bachchan, I am not mad at Kapoor for expressing his disagreement with my idol but at some point when he infers to Tinnu Anand roping Bachchan only in all his flicks but it’s solely Bachchan’s success not the director, it feels quite a contradiction. I disagree with that point.  One thing that as a cinema lover I find missing is perhaps a long and uncensored interview conducted by co-writer Meena Iyer with Rishi Kapoor, hitting an octane high on past controversies, off-screen affairs, Twitter controversies or fall out with directors if any to end the book in style.


Concluding Remarks:

The book starts with an honest forward by one of the most brilliant talents that we have and son of Rishi Kapoor, Ranbir Kapoor and a heartwarming after forward by wife Neetu Kapoor. Both are written straight from the heart adding shine to this amazing spicy and edgy ‘autobiography’ and the book serves as fodder for the young generation either from the movie industry or not to read and learn something on how to shed inhibitions to be real. Take a bow, Chintu-ji for this cathartic achievement! This Rishi Kapoor-Meena Iyer reminds us that coffee table books are back and if written with sheer passion can stage a resounding comeback, something which is missing on the market.

Check the blurb on Goodreads and click on Amazon to buy a copy.

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A love letter to Sonali Bendre

Hey Sonali,

Can’t remember the first time you shashayed to tinkle bells inside my heart. Felt like drum bells. When was it, I first encountered your gaze on screen or adorning the pages of glossy magazine bought feels like rocket science and tough nut to crack. Love at first sight…the first dekho of you. How can someone be so perfect and designed with pure, unadulterated love?

Image: Pinterest/Sonali Bendre

I was growing as a teenager in the 90s and the only solace to escape my anger or rebel openly declared to the world was Hindi cinema, movies coming on TV and magazine with pocket money saved, some coins stolen from Dad’s pocket. How could someone be so perfect, alluring beauty, the flawless twacha, vibrant beauty, deeply intense and beautiful peachy eyes glittering love? You are a Goddess coming alive on screen, flawless and pure that would pull a stop to earth’s orbit.


Sonali 3

Ah! Those fresh memories and an appearance on screen would make the heart flit like the twang of guitar that wouldn’t make me bulge from admiring and worshipping you so much that I dreamed to marry you.  Never thought that angels could traipse on earth to capture the hearts and this one smile flashed like the twinkling stars in the sky at night. Your voice is a lullaby to the infatuated teenager in me so much that was immediately love struck to any girl whose name is Sonali and found them instantly attractive. I blithed in your voice that would charm the cooing birds off the trees, secretly wishing and imagined to be in place of Kunal romancing you in Dil Hi Dil Mein. The age of internet and chatting, falling in love with someone online and my generation swooned, completely fida over mifc chat! You were this girl, I knew it! The innocence, purity of love, empathy, sensitive heart….this what guys like us would look in a girl and wouldn’t flinch in worshipping the dazzling beauty that you are so much that a friend yelled at me, ‘How can you look so many qualities in a girl?’ You were that girl Sonali.

They don’t make such smile anymore, effortless, divine and with no pretense. My love letter to you as an infatuated teen must have never reached you in the then Bombay and must have been thrown in the bin giving company to thousands like them, a declaration of love. There was something cheaply available called airmail. Yes! My handwriting sucked and it still does….can’t even faintly remember what I wrote but was a love letter, straight from the heart, fida over your beautiful eyes glittering like the dappled sun that they would pop out anytime out of the postcards and sprawling posters to caress my soul.

Ok! Let me try with this love letter. What I loved most about you? Faraway you were, out of reach and must be dating a boyfriend….but who cares. A declaring of mad love…call it what you may…ah! Your hair that felt like silk stroking my face, the satin saree, colorful dresses, white skirt that defines perfection sitting on you like cloud in the sky.

My love for the Goddess in the song decked in golden blouse and red lehenga with the beautiful anklet, a flawless Queen adored by her subjects in the Kingdom. ‘Kajal kajal teri ankhon ka yeh kajal ghayal ghayal kar deta mujhe ghayal.’ I always dreamed of such a bride to make life too perfect to be true. Your love made me a sensitive soul, reveling into the age old romance and courtship to woo and win your heart. Why you are so far away from me acting in movies with all those tall or short heroes! Already seething in jealousy and wishing I was them. Playfulness, coy and streak of joy in letting your hair down as if in a trance…how you do that my love? Teach me some to beat stress at school when I don’t do homework. I am drenched in the Prem Taal….your Prem Jaal…mom and Dad don’t know I am writing a love letter to you my Goddess, feeling the ferocious heart beat! Must be your love and not the scare of Maa and Baba who would tear this letter into tiny pieces for if they do it won’t be paper scrap but my heart crumpled into tiny pieces. The beautiful and red Salwar Kameez, colorful saree adorned in gold and Anarkali….how can someone say angels live in the sky.

The magic of love, white skirt dress and dress wore in Deewana Mein Tera Deewana song, flowing with breeze and legs flailing in the air. That was English Babu Desi Mem. God must have created you with petal of flowers and its fragrance wafting and piercing my heart.

The love letter was penned and felt a little stupid but the next day, carefully hid it in the school bag, once the clock struck dashed to the post office to slid the precious words in the letter box. I almost cheered for myself to declared my undying and unrequited love, proposing marriage, perhaps the first girl to whom I ever wrote a love letter. You must have laughed it off, stupid, idiotic fan what with the remote chance of you reading the letter! Dola dola dola dola!



Tons of crushes on Hindi film heroines but none sparkled like you did to my heart, leaving traces of love so much that after you said taa taa to movies, I bought a poster at FC Road in Pune which was stuck inside my room. I was in first year at Fergusson College and one of the girls was in love with…nah! Her name wasn’t Sonali but she ressembles you loads.

Hey tigress! Cancer is shit. You know what? You are not just a beauty with brains fiesty lady but an amazing fighter who valiantly strode like a warrier declaring war and saying that you taking it heads on. You know what’s your biggest strength?  Fighter you are! Every step you take is a mark of victory with your kick-ass attitude. Like in the movies you acted and won hearts, conquer and emasculate this cancer into tiny bits, destroy every might of it and taste this victory in the hard-won battle.

Distraught I was reading your letter and came as a jolt. Of all people, not it cannot be true about Sonali. Stupid and dumb cancer. But, then every Goddess have to wage their fight, destroy the demons for not every revered woman is confined in temples. Go ahead and punch this evil straight on the face. March ahead, O’ victor, warrior and the vanquisher. Writer that you are and time to write a new best seller script for happy ending comes after a hard fight.

The love of your child, husband, admirers and stupid idiots like me believe in the fighter and march on like the angry Goddess.


Love, Sonali!






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Film Review: Sanju biopic comes alive on screen

Film Review: Sanju-One Man, Many Lives

Cast: Ranbir Kapoor as Sanjay Dutt, Dia Mirza as Manyatta Dutt, Paresh Rawal as Sunil Dutt, Manisha Koirala as Nargis Dutt, Aditi Seiya as Priya Dutt, Vicky Kaushal as Kamlesh Kapasi, Jim Sarbh, Anushka Sharma as Winnie Dias, Sonam Kapoor as Ruby, Karishma Tanna, Mahesh Manjrekar and Sanjay Dutt (in the song, ‘Baba Bolta Hai’).

Director: Rajkumar Hirani

Rating: Four stars

The decade was the 90s when the angry young man and reigning King, Amitabh Bachchan, after delivering two stupendous hits at the box office, Hum and Khuda Gawah announced a five-year-hiatus away from the Arclight. The film industry was looking at his worthy successor and at that time, a young man with the charm, deadly looks and a combination of childlike vulnerability and fire in the eyes delivered two back to back super hits, Saajan and Sadak. The worthy successor for Bachchan was found. It was Sanjay Dutt who looked set to take the Number One seat from Bachchan and the latter himself shared his Best Actor Award with the young Dutt by calling him on stage saying the young star deserves the award for Saajan. It was a matter of days for the young Sanju Baba to wear the undisputed crown till the Bombay 93 blast happened that led to his immediate arrest while getting down the plane at Sahar airport. Perhaps, the coveted No 1 position wouldn’t be the same and the triumvirate Khans destiny would have significantly altered.

The trouble for Sanjay Dutt has just begun when he was tried under TADA but you know the story right for he bounced back time and again, right from drugs to all kind of allegations leveled against him. This story truly deserves a biopic for Dutt, the original ‘bad boy’ is a mystery to many of us. There is a story that many of us don’t know but pretend to, thinking we are the Supreme Court, by brandishing all kind of allegations against not just Dutt but his entire family who bore the brunt. In 2007, the judge himself observed in his judgment that Sanjay Dutt is not a terrorist but procured arms in an illegal manner from the underworld that went undeclared. He was young, ruthless and reckless who didn’t use his brain. But, he served his sentence and such an eyesore to see people brandishing him as a terrorist since the film Sanju was released. For haters, at that time, Dutt Saab (Sunil Dutt) was touted to become the next CM of Maharashtra and the arrest of Sanju was a trump card that fell into the lap of political rivals.

Back to the film. It’s never an easy task to make a biopic on the life of the Greek God of the 90s and one must commend the courage of Rajkumar Hirani to explore the life of Sanjay Dutt, that evokes love, admiration and hate in equal measure. It’s a mammoth task at hand and even more for Ranbir Kapoor to essay this role, one of his most challenging till date as an actor, stepping into the shoes of someone with the Dutt’s caliber. There are very few actors who would take this risk at this stage of their career, to the exception of Shah Rukh Khan essaying negative roles in the early 90s, and Ranbir Kapoor’s gamble has paid extremely well in essaying Sanju. The body language, voice intonation, Baba’s inimitable style, easy demeanor, long hair that became Dutt’s brand and effortless yet down-to-earth personality is incarnated to the hilt by Ranbir Kapoor. There is not a single moment where one would see Ranbir Kapoor but Sanjay Dutt.

Of course, the prosthetics bearing the mark of Cloover Wootton makes the impression superbly believable but it’s only an incredible actor that can combine the looks, body language, expressions and effortless gaze to deliver in such a magical manner. Ranbir Kapoor is the soul of Sanjay Dutt that he carries through the pathos and emotions that make it incredibly believable. Kapoor deserves all the awards this year and should bag the national award. He is Dutt in almost all aspects for flitting so effortlessly in this role and with utmost ease. Till date, it’s the Kapoor scion most accomplished work and shows what a wondrous actor he is.

One of the major points where the film scores are the father-son bonding between Sanju Sir and Dutt Saab portrayed on screen by Kapoor and Paresh Rawal. There is no denying that there are several poignant scenes in the movie that explores the beautiful father-son relationship that scores high on the emotional quotient. However, Paresh Rawal despite delivering a good performance takes his own time to become Dutt Saab but there are several scenes where he falls out of place, like muttering ‘Puttar’ with a non-Punjabi lisp.

Manisha Koirala plays Nargis Dutt and in a short role, she does full justice to the legend coupled with the charm, poise and elegance portrayed on screen where she lends so much dignity to the real-life character. She is simply a treat to watch and is endearing. The biggest surprise is Vicky Kaushal who plays Sanju’s close friend ‘Kamlesh Kapasa’ who is the amalgamation of three close buddies of Sanjay Dutt. He simply brings the house down right from his terrific entry to the emotional scenes pleading to Sunil Dutt to save his son or the scene in the striptease club or his pronunciation of ‘snack’ as snake is hilarious. Kaushal complements ‘Sanju’ at every end in the narration.

Sonam Kapoor who plays Ruby, Sanju’s ex-girlfriend stands tall in the few scenes in the first half and the instance where the former puts the toilet vase in her neck has a searing impact. She delivers in an outstanding fashion and the actor shines every bit in the scene. Anushka Sharma plays the famous and best-selling author Winnie Dias, injecting a certain freshness and showcasing her charisma as an actor. Dia Mirza plays Manyata Dutt and credit goes to her for not being outrageous or over-the-top, is at her charming best, though at times one can feel that she is overshadowed. But, not a bit! Of course, there are heartwarming cameos like Mahesh Manjrekar, Piyush Mishra and Karishma Tanna offering the glamor quotient in this one scene. She is sensual and exudes the oomph factor. Boman Irani adds to the fun while Jim Sarbh is effective. Adita Seiya has an uncanny resemblance to Priya Dutt but she should have given some scenes, knowing that the Dutt sister played an influential part in the family’s life.

There is no glorifying the life of Sanjay Dutt, the superstar and spoilt brat in the movie, contrary to speculations doing the round in some quarters or the omitting of his past relationships. It would be disrespectful to the leading ladies who are well settled in their lives to barge into their privacy, something we should all respect. Hirani is a master story-teller who stayed true to his USP in injecting the light moments and emotions in the right place enshrined in several scenes in the movie. The Sanju-Kamli scenes in the striptease bar, the ghapa-ghap dialogue and ‘Sanju’ confessing of sleeping with 350 women is pure fun and hilarious which brings the house down and works wonderfully. The letter he recites to his father on his death and puts it in his shirt’s pocket or the radio scene speaking about his friendship with Kamli is emotionally charged, so is the scene where Manisha Koirala as Nargis pretends to act in a Hollywood when she is dying of cancer. The moments when the actor breaks down when he hears his mother is dying, Paresh Rawal as ‘Dutt Saab’ sleeps on the floor and switches off the fan because his son is lying in horrible conditions inside jail is searing. Raju Hirani simply sends a strong message on the unconditional love between children and parents, Mom and Dad, executing the father-son bond, subtlety in conveying thoughts through songs on how to ignore brickbats, ‘Kuch toh log kahenge.’ Both songs Mein badhiya and Kar Maidan Fatey bears an impact with the film’s theme and are aesthetically shot.

The most remembered scenes are of the course, one at the Rocky premiere on how Ranbir as Sanjay implores his Dad for help to get out of the drug problems, kicking the ass of the drug peddler Sarbh and refusing to confess saying, ‘I am not a terrorist.’ It wields a huge power on standing for truth and not simply getting away in court.

There is not a dull moment in the 2 hr 40 minutes movie and not once, it drags owing to the crisp narration, script and the master storyteller that Hirani is in holding the sequences in place. It is a masterstroke, coming from a genius who told the biopic story of Sanjay Dutt in an honest manner. Sanju is not just entertaining but a peek into the life of a man who underwent troubles and facing the lows of life to bounce back, blending a fair dose of comedy, emotions and bonding. The sequence, ‘Roar Tiger. at the hospital is impactful and shot in an intense manner. The only issue I have with the movie is the unfair picking on the media that went overboard at times, particularly in the song, ‘Baba Bolta Hai.’ But, both Sanjay Dutt and Ranbir Kapoor look dapper, effortless and like a house on fire in the song. Like a true rockstar, the Deadly Dutt aces it. Sanju is paisa vasool, carries repeat value, a film that one cannot afford to miss for it bears the signature style of a master storyteller Raju Hirani and a Ranbir Kapoor who looks every bit Sanjay Dutt, doing full justice to the maverick actor. Somehow, the truth needed to get out and depends on what we want to believe, often thriving on gossip mills.



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Pain of farewell and goodbye

Farewell is painful,

the death tunnel,


angst and agony of the traveler,

leaving the shores and nest,

for an infinite destination,

a soulless journey in the faraway,

forsaking happiness of a place,


shorn of feeling,

death staring at the face,

battling emotions that haunt,

powerful yet invisible shadow,

who is the enemy?

soldiering ahead and wiping the journey that once gave limitless happiness,

the page is flipping to reach a climax,

fraught with surprises,

of not so happy ending,

discovering joy may be,

making a new journey,

a route with no nigh,

no goodbye!





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Day 25: An interpreter of maladies

Crazy head at work…typing like an famished beast…google the savior…symptoms of heart attack, blood clots, and brain hemorrhage. A silly head in a overthinking soul at work. A neck pain taken lightly at first thinking of a wrong turn, hither and thither on the bed but persisted for days and weeks. The brain tells you gotta come to terms with it, no matter what! Ok! Did I tell that this dimwit’s head keeps thinking about collapsing suddenly? I mean, would the real ‘me’ know that he is no more in a sudden death. Crazy over thinking mind, I tell!

Symptoms hardly lie, uneasiness in the throat, thirst, dry tongue, pain traveling like light from the neck to the arms and upper arms. legs with upper and lower neck movement causing pain. I felt like a balloon jettisoned in the air as if scientists are testing nuclear weapons with the sensation of dizziness, propelling me to leap ahead to visit the doctor. He examines me. BP is normal. One positive sign. He wants to be assured and asked me to lie down, to decide on the need for ECG to check heart rhytm, if need to. So much excitement for nothing. Clear symptoms of gastro for not eating on time and going too much on spice. Headed home with shit loads of pills, the perfect antidote to my alcohol, the Scotch whisky. Ha! I felt light like feather.

The genius qualities can never abandon me for my quirky invention of greatest maladies on earth that would make me a perfect character to Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Interpreter of Maladies, the day she decides for a sequel. I can make for a great character blending craziness and a sample that authors or filmmakers can easily explore making it gibberishly awesome. The jibber jabber and gobbledygook of my life makes for a sensational biopic. Move over Sanju!

The tale of how the birthday ring in not with the favorite scotch in the windy, chilly and cold winter but medicines as a sumptuous treat. My food timing can take a beating from time-to-time and with a conference this week when lunch was wolfed past 2 p,m. As much as I think that munching late one day will not lead to gastro issue, perhaps it’s the time to make a religious change to one’s diet or lifestyle. In fact, I could have become a doctor, you see, with the obsession of constantly checking my cholesterol level or asking google uncle about symptoms of heart attack, blood sugar or memory loss. Ha!

And, to say, yours truly could have found the cure for cancer? Yes! I did that also and a routine google task for me whenever there is numbness, body weakness, tingling sensation or piercing caused in the skin and drowsiness. I type, causes and symptoms of cancer. Slap my silly mind. Tiredness had to be overcome post a hectic week and rest needed.  Unfortunately, the rest mantra didn’t go as planned but at least was able to start reading, Shashi Tharoor’s Why I am a Hindu? Like always, I end up surfing on the phone and whining time sitting in front of the computer rather than sleeping or reading stuff. I better keep every weekend for myself rather than being a pale Tintin version.

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Sky watch Friday

The amazing shot was taken last week at the beach during the night’s cocktail after a hard day at work and linking it to Skywatch Friday. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Have a nice end of week and Happy Sunday.