Will make quite a big-budget movie. In a good way. If they decide to make it four and a half hours long - which I do hope they do.
It has everything - flashbacks, redemption, conversations in netherwordly places like King's Cross Station, loads of heroism and valiant deaths.
I guess this is the feeling Star Wars fans experienced when they watched Return Of The Jedi back in the say.
Ok, so there were no real spoilers in this post. I'm considerate like that.
Yesterday, my peeps and I narrowly escaped the insanity that was the riot. After driving near Ulsoor Lake trying to avoid the traffic jams, we headed back on St. John's Church Road going the roundabout way to Old Madras Road. When we reached Coles Park, stopping because of a blockade at Haines Road, outside Siddique, a Matador Van filled with people doing rounds/going to the VHP-sponsored Virat Hindu Samajotsava.
Some dudes just pop out of the woodwork i.e., Siddique Chicken Centre, handkerchiefs covering their face and attack the van (and people inside, I guess) with metal pipes. We saw them break the windshield and climbing into it while we quickly drove away.
Now these dudes with the orange flags were not heading in the direction of the rally but driving into the "sensitive area", possibly with the same mentality that Ganapati-processions in Bombay are loudest near the mosques.
Blr Bytes was on Assaye Road (near the Bengalee Association) when he was stopped by more of the protestors and got roughed up, when he was in his car, through the window.
A few nothing-to-with-this Korean tourists were pulled out of their bus and watched it being torched. They were escorted (possibly by a quick-thinking policeman) to the State Fire HQ and stayed there. A lot of foreigners are in the city to attend IMTEX, so the statistical chances of a foreigner getting caught in this would be higher. It's extra trouble we don't need.
Apparently, this started a couple of days ago, when a Jaffer Sharief-organised procession to protest the hanging of Saddam Hussein (20 days after the hanging, albeit) went wrong with some RSS-types attacked that rally (possibly because they were good friends of the Kurds that got gassed). Yesterday's trouble, was therefore a retaliatory attack.
Never a good idea to have people like Praveen Togadia in your city. Someone should take Mr. Togadia, Mr. Sharief and while we're at it Mr. Modi and the Imam of Delhi's Juma Masjid, place them in a single cell in the already housefull Parappana Agrahara Jail. And place them under CCTV surveillance. Should make for interesting viewing.
Granted, we're no longer the Pensioner's Paradise or even Garden City or a "progressive, cosmopolitan city" that romantically reminds us of the quiet, worry-less days. Alongwith the success of a large number of people, it also brings a serious discontentment to a large number of no-so succesful people.
It doesn't help that politicans and "community leaders" foment fear and insecurity along religious lines for more power and more personal gain.
It's an indication of failure of our society and nationhood when politician is a four-letter word.
So my man, Blr Bytes decides he's done being a blogger. Which is such a pity because, you know, he was pretty good at it. The reasons he has done so, he has articulated well enough. It's a pity but we move on.
Now, what can You, Dear Reader expect out of this blog? The flavour of this blog might change just a little bit (especially with the regularity of new posts). And youm who come back here looking for especially for restaurant and food reviews, do keep coming back - I think BB can be persuaded to cameo the odd review. In the meanwhile, visit My Link List with which he still posts, but no witty social commentary a la India Uncut. Yet. When he does, Amit Varma better watch out. hehe.
It's been a good ride.
It enters in soft whispers and undying declarations, where words mean more than actions.Like Chamique, I'm all blogged out.
In time, the words fade to black as the actions speak for themselves; screaming for sweet release.
And it leaves in broken promises, a city unbuilt and the ruins for the world to see, of what could have been only if...
I'm not entirely sure how I came across this website but I hope everyone in Bangalore reads it. It's just what our city needs. Some good old fashioned vigilante justice.
And is appropriately warned. A sample notice is below. You can download 'em from their site. Print. Plaster. Repeat.
It's a pity that they do "not support making the notices provided into stickers in the intent to adhere said notices onto offending assholes."
via the delightful XKCD
(with apologies to Beverly D'Onofrio).
Conversations with Corporate Whore and Mr. D quite often are decontructionist (yes, it's a word now) in a blog-worthy kinda way. This is a good example of what can happen in one of those conversations. When Mohayana comes in for his quarterly visit from the Meritocratic Republic of Temasek and these blog-worthy coversations become better. Or worse. Depending on your point of view.
This post is about hot girls in cars, generalised for the urban Indian situation. (Typing in 'hot girls' ought to bring in some unsuspecting googlers. *evil laugh*).
Genus I. Girl driving a car.
Several things work for this particular species. Driving a big (expensive) car would mean a certain amount of money already having being spent from teenage years on the right hair- and skin-care products causing the basic looks (perfectly straightened/permed/natural hair and clear skin) to be taken care of. Paid for by Daddy, of course.
Girl driving a small car started off as a nervous driver, driving all her scared friends when she just got her licence to honk. She'd still probably be a nervous driver (let's face it, they're all bad drivers), except a seedy-guy watching would want to say "Come here bebee, I will protect you" and flashes a sidey grin. Me? I would just think it, not say it.
If either species of this genus would have anything going for them, it is the poise. At a traffic signal, this girl is obviously stared at and she knows it. It adds to self-esteem and all that. Poise = hotness. Hotness = confidence. And so it goes.
By the time the small car girl draws on years of being stared at and drawing confidence, she'd become an aunty-type and is, hence, excluded from the purview of this blogpost.
Genus II. Girl riding shotgun.
Now, this is difficult to classify into various species. You'd want to classify her into this genus only if she isn't being driven by an old man (anything over the age of 32, after which you'll be heading into into Genus III or into sugar daddy territory). Something tells me at the age of 32, I'll still be playing the game and my stories will be like Horsey's, only not as funny. Actually, my stories are already like his anyway. hmmm.
A dressed-up girl is probably on a date - you'd have to read their body language to make further assessments. You think they've been seeing each other long? Is it a nervous first date? Are they just hanging out? Is she his sister? You, Dear Reader are discerning enough to make this assessment. Go on, I know you do. Even better, you play games with your own shotgun girl (or driver boy) making fun of that other couple making imaginary conversation for them in your own car. You don't? It's great fun, you must try it sometime.
Genus III. Girl in the back seat driven by her parents.
When this girl was a child, she'd entertain her parents by saying "Red bus" and "Embassadoor" and "Utility Building" when they were outside her window. These days, she'd be SMSing her friends who are out for a movie/clubbing and thinking to herself "Leather jacket on a Bullet, nice!" or surreptitiously checking out another dude crossing at the traffic signal.
Jammaster Jakkur (no link) has a theory, in a primeval kinda way, about girls on bikes. It's a pretty good theory but let's leave that aside for another day. Likewise with girls using public transport. Sometime soon.
He is one of my oldest friends and this was one of his most fervent dreams.
It finally came true.
Fucking-A-Awesome dude! Hang on, we're coming!
