The Mango Celebrities

Warning: This article contains repetitive usage of addictive words and famous personality names because of the subject’s nature, so focus on yourself and try to be the ‘One’ amongst ‘All’. Chances are that you would start savoring it and even… may end up with a sweet tooth for ‘Mango celebrities’ aka ‘You’ minus the fear of diabetes.

It’s been said that ‘Life is a Stage’ but no one knows one’s role and the director of this longest running Drama ever (on earth), religions do propagate their belief but that would be in a larger interest of the mankind rather solving the living enigma ‘Life’. It’s not a movie or show, and you have to settle terms with the reality. Life breathes but never lives; it keeps changing its address and feeds on Common men to keep itself young and hap. In fact, Life has always been about the Common men but the last half a decade (2005-2011) has made this mortal a twilight vampire, who is always eyeing its share of stardust and limelight. Dear friends, join me in an uncommon journey of common man’s transformation into a ‘Mango celebrity’ in this blog.

There was a movement (India against corruption), a Mango leader (Anna Hazare) and Mango celebrities (followers and supporters) in August, 2011. Organizations, colleges, publications, marketers were busy in publishing and discussing case-studies featuring Shri. Anna Hazare as one of the most successful 'brands' of the decade ...but somehow missed the fact that 'He' was not a Brand rather the most successful 'Brand Manager' and 'Evangelist', who had championed a cause 'India against Corruption' making it the most saleable, contagious, engaging and promising product in just a fortnight. Anna Hazare did build a phenomenon by giving a platform to the common men to perform and be a Mango celebrity. Have somebody said that the brands can’t be built in a fortnight…? They have an antithesis ready to study and debate.

Shri Anna Hazare’s Anti-corruption movement has got its mention in the pages of History and Internet (Wikipedia carries detailed notes on it now) for being the most successful ‘Gandhian style’ movement, in the direct Interest of Indian society and its people, post the ‘freedom struggle’ era. Perhaps, it was the best opportunity to live a celebrity life for billion Indians, who always wanted to get soaked into the fame of ‘face & name’ but longing for an opportunity and cause convincing enough to overlook job, police, politicians, family and normal life. The 13 days mass India movement was built on the backdrop of Anna’s unwavering fast and silent protest at ‘Ramlila maidan’, New Delhi. The movement found resonance in the states across India, attracting and influencing every other Indian to come out on streets and fervently protest against the corruption prevalent in Indian bureaucracy, governance, judiciary and administration. The movement’s undercurrent was so strong that it was felt at every nook and corner of the nation. It would be worth writing that while key support was from the corruption-hit common man (fashioning Anna brand topis), others just followed in with its growing popularity and uninterrupted coverage by print and electronic media. The ‘Dharna spot’ had become a sort of tourist destination during the last five days. Social networking websites played its defining game by influencing the remaining youngsters. Post a visit to the spot, my friend wrote on Facebook, “Just been to the Freedom Concert at Ramleela Maidan to witness the Anna the Rockstar, Electric atmosphere...” So, this millennial generation had its brush with a freedom struggle, a fling with History and 13 dates with a Gandhian, Joining him live or watching on TV, eventually Politicians and Parliament gave in to his protest and nation’s unabashed support. Few of them had their share of glory, flaunting passionate support messages, observing parallel fasts, performing media-savvy publicity stunts, all courtesy to 24x7 live coverage of the movement across India on most of the electronic media channels. It was a ‘reality show’ open to all non-participants. The complete movement was for, of and by the ‘Mango celebrities’, all ready to flaunt their power and celebrate their stardom (I know this can draw criticism from opposite ideologies but let me officially state that I truly support of Shri Anna Hazare and the movement).

Reality television and Talent-hunt shows featuring ordinary people, who turn into ‘Mango celebrities’ the moment they arrive in the show and start living their dreams, apparently started the cult and it progressively triggered the aspirations of the common men to continuously find outlets of expression and platforms for spotlight, success & careers, now. The Indian television industry strike rich TRPs with the immensely successful shows like KBC, Sa Re Ga Ma, Boogie Woogie, Indian Idol, Roadies and production houses started churning new formats and borrowing few from the West, in anticipation of higher engagement with the audience and better ratings. The formula clicked so well that, today, it has become the main stream program content for most of the GECs. These reality and talent shows not only give wings to the dreams and talent of few but have started a sort of trend with families to inculcate and nurture the talents in a serious manner. We would find people bringing their rare traditional arts to an audience to embracing western dances to performing daring stunts (facing fear, ZNMD types). This would not have been possible without the desire to shine like a star, to get ‘my share’ of fame and to soak in ‘celebritiness’ of the Moment (opportunity and platform are in league of its own). It has given birth to an orchestrated drama - ‘the making of a Mango celebrity’, laden with emotions, ups and downs, courage, belief, success and ‘moments of glory’.

And nothing can get larger than the novel game show ‘Kaun Banega Crorepati’, landing a chance to get featured in the Sr. Bachchan Ji’s Iconic TV show is bigger than ...hitting a jackpot in Las Vegas (though am not sure for myself). Let’s also discuss in brief why ‘KBC’ has been the favorite show of masses, choice of advertisers and darling of TRPs, season per season. There have been shows similar to KBC format but none has succeeded in pulling the audience like it. It is Mr. Bachchan’s unmistakable charm, humbleness, the way he connects with audience and honesty… that makes this show so close to the hearts of its fans. He makes every participant feel like special guest for the evening and allow him to be the cynosure of the show. He choreographs the ‘limelight’ in such a way that a normal common-man turns into a ‘Mango celebrity’, letting someone live one’s portion of ‘celebritiness’ in most sanctitious (sic) manner… is the way to strike a chord with your audience. Still remember an episode, where he was hosting a militancy-victim girl from Kashmir, who had killed a militant and saved her family and herself (from a possible rape-attempt). She was from a lower-middle class, traditional Muslim family and the fate brought her to share the ‘Hot seat’ in front of the legend, a magician so abundantly talented that the Gods would go green of his chivalry and popularity. Amitabh shared her courageous story with audience and earned her gratitude, respect, et al. The moving moments were during the games-round; Amitabh was screaming ‘Sahi Jawab…’ with a wide smile (on her success of each ‘KBC padaav’) while she was sitting joyless with tears flowing down her eyes. The moment she hits a correct answer her eyes would swell with tears, not able to cheer her destiny and attention, trying to come terms with her new-found fame. She was, perchance, one of the humblest ambassadors of ‘Mango celebrities’.

Then there were other participants who would like to manipulate the attention by putting weird proposals to the super star. The journey starts from winning the hot seat, joining Amitabh in disbelief and shock, waving hands into the audience and throwing few ‘flying kisses’ in the air (like movie stars winning Oscars). It takes few moments to warm up to the experience and stardom, till Amitabh takes over and afterwards it’s an unforgettable time for the participants. Even their families and friends enjoy their share of mentions and ‘social spotlight’. KBC is the humblest platform to watch a ‘Mango celebrity in making’ in a random yet controlled environment (let’s say it’s a science, laced with hormones of emotions).

The lasting impact has come from the Web 2.0 sites (blogs, wikis, videos, social interactive networks, etc.). Apparently every Internet savvy is writing for ‘Blogs’, micro-blogging for ‘Twitter’, clicking pictures for ‘Facebook’ and shooting videos for ‘You tube’ only. The common men are playing the lead roles in their respective avatars and they have a huge fan-following in form of friends and admirers. The number of ‘likes’ and comments on a ‘status update’ is ostensibly the celebometer (sic.) of their popularity Index. People want to celebrate small-small stories, achievements, success and happiness with ‘Aall’. They want to shed their blues or a headache, not by popping a Disprin, but by sharing an update on their current status and seeking ‘Good wishes’ from the friends and followers. I am sure if we would study the consumption pattern of anti-depressant medicines in the last 2-3 years, the growth-rate would have declined (in fact for research graduates it could be socially disruptive, path-breaking research topic). These social platforms are mood makers, act as anti-depressants. It brings back the spotlight, someone would have not enjoyed in office, college, society, family, social circle in the recent times. It heals with immense touch of ‘stardust’, gets them instant applause minus the cameraman, director and box-office results. Web 2.0 platforms have put the ‘Mango celebrities’ under the moon light, leaving everyone moon-winked. In fact real celebrities, politicians, film stars follow common-men on social networking sites, interact with them and willingly share private, personal emotions on several occasions. That’s the power and role of the ‘Mango celebrities’ in the era of ‘Millennials’. And yeah, even I am smitten by this celeb-syndrome and sometimes live my dreams and ambitions through Facebook, blog, etc. It’s like a drug, an addiction I have to have my shot twice or thrice in a week. Did somebody say, ‘I am high on life’?

I write about this topic because I strongly felt that people follow celebrities blindly, awe-struck and possessed by their social status, popularity and success, they never realize that the times has changed and it’s about ‘them’ now. Common men is as popular as a celebrity, it was common-men, who wrote history when ‘Jan Lok Pal’ bill was considered by the Indian government with unprecedented parliament support. The time has arrived to live your part of ‘Celebritiness’. This is the time to essay your role as a ‘Mango celebrity’ with total talent and to its maximum glory, till the ‘spot light’ is switched 'on' and the stage is set. Though this transition from ‘Mango people’ to ‘Mango celebrity’ could have been possible in few decades but it’s certainly here to stay as long as democracy is rolling, audience is watching and you are performing.

...Annu

The 'Prison' Night

Thought I would never share about any of my personal experiences, which would not reflect a 'way of life' for a common man or woman, on my blog. But then certain experiences change the course of your resolutions and so it happened with me one night in Gurgaon (the urban village settlement of a screwed state). The rarity of the incident had also provoked me to document it, which happened first time in the early three decades of my life. The ‘Prison' night is not about a criminal night behind a jail or bars, it’s about an unfortunate evening at a night-club located in an up-market mall. In fact after reading this briefer summary of the events, you may also like to re-consider the notion of Gurgaon clubs and might prefer to refer it as the ‘Clubabas’ (wannabes), which have been mushroomed because of urban development, IT companies and ‘moolah’ it has brought along to the local folks or better prefer to spend your weekend nights at a ‘Machaan’ (local name for an authentic dhaba, which allows you to get your drinks and be sensible on your pockets) without giving wings to masochism.

It was the Sat night of May 28, 2011 and the hangover of losing my wallet (3-4 days back) at a busiest metro station of Delhi was still vivid in my memories. In fact that last fortnight had been kind of strange and choicest of unfavorable things were doing favors to me. I was chaotically preparing to leave for Gurgaon in anticipation of a perfect weekend, which involved attending an awards ceremony at a five-star hotel and later a typical club-night out with my Gurgaon gang (due for long). The plan was to board a metro from Malviya nagar to IFFCO Chowk station with one of our newest and youngest roommates, my flat mate’s teen cousin from Karnal who was on a year’s sabbatical in Delhi for his Lawn Tennis coaching (Interestingly he chose this sport because he was moon winked by the monies in it), for the awards function. We boarded the metro around 8:00pm and reached the hotel by 8:30pm. The evening was perfectly crafted for the successful achievers and institutions, with luminary ‘book termite’ Chetan Bhagat as its chief guest, greetings and celebrations were flowing ‘On the house’. The milieu was getting infectious and I could not hold cheering myself up with the company of two large ‘Teachers’. I was already in high spirits and eagerly awaiting for my friends call for the next blast. It happened and we decided to hit a night club at M.G. Road (any random club, which would allow stags). Here, I have one confession to make that the night-clubs are always more enjoyable and ‘Hangovery’ with ‘All guys’ gang. We met in typical male bonding mannerisms and started checking out a happening place for the night, while I already knew that Gurgaon had cattle-class clubs but was all game for it because of my dear friends (who have been practical and supportive of me all through) Bomber and LSD. Finally, we zeroed on a spot, paid charge of Rs.1000/ each and made rather a quiet entry. The place was spacious, had a marble floor unlike a dance floor, sex ratio of 10:3 (male to female) and dryly the Dj was playing English numbers. My friends were ostensibly frustrated with the club’s census report but I was in a mood of full blast that night come whatever could be the disappointments. We headed to the bar counter and I managed to convince my gang for round of hard drinks (because Bomber has ‘Parental’ and LSD has ‘Minus’ appetite for alcohols). The point was to make it a ‘Rocking night’. The place started warming up with people and raw dance antiques, we secured a corner (close to the DJ console) and started enjoying the tipsy company wiggling-waggling in our cocooned space. The club scene was getting ragged by every minute with boys and men desperately seeking the attention of few girls (countable on your finger-tips). It was turning into nothing less than a budding ‘red light’ area for males. Clubs have always been hubs for ‘indecent proposals’ but this was getting notoriously licentious. I was counting it as a one of its kind experience and my mates were seemingly open to all proposals. It was about 12:30 in the morning and we had spent almost two hours, inside the Clubaba, by then.

I was running into my fourth drink and the other mates were wedged on their respective pegs for long. And, here story had a twist when a bouncer walked up to one of my friends and murmured something and he moved out of our cocooned area. The body language of both suggested me that the big doubly-fat guy was telling us to move out of the space if we would have drinks or stand without the drinks. It just put me off; the fellow had just encroached into our area and was trying to spoil the evening. I deliberately picked up my drink and started having it right in front of him. He stared into my eyes and asked to go out of the space but I was not the one to budge off. I told him, “We have been enjoying here for last two hours, what’s the point of doing this now.” He replied (In Haryanavi accent), “You better move out or I will throw you out from here” and he pushed me back strong. All shocked, walked back to him and told, “Look I work for media so you better check yourself” to this I had a center-shock from him and he said something that could have come only from such desperate, bi-sexual and useless creatures like him. I smirked and remember telling him lastly, “You better come out and we would have a one-on-one discussion and set it straight”. In fact I was not finished when I felt a strong blow on my head (from the back side), which almost made me lost my control. Before I could understand something I had a whack from my right (definitely not from the bouncer, whom I was confronting with) and the next I remember, a swarm of bouncers descended upon me and started pushing and punching me from all corners. I was anticipating hostility but couldn’t ascertain the severity of generosity (like ‘US of A’ caught unguarded during 9/11 attack). It was raining blows but I was not ready to go down. I resisted by managing few punches and dragging few along with me out of the club. But they seemed to had already started feeding on to their desperation and were not willing to stop, till a fellow bouncer realized that I had enough and could get killed out of this club-rage. He pulled me out of the jumble and pushed me out of the emergency stair case and the last I heard from him was, “Tu bas yahaa se jaa yaar”. I was barely able to stand and experiencing mirage of pains. In seconds, I was joined by my friends, feeling dejected; not able to relate to the developments and handicapped by the percentage of alcohol running in their bloods. They could not able to rescue me from the 5-6 beastly creatures (equals to 10-12 normal human beings). I was gathering my senses, contemplating my retaliatory options but nothing was clicking in that unacquainted place and faint state. Police could have been an option but it would have not helped much, I was drunk and they could have accused me of any wrong behavior. My mates were worried about me and I was laughing on myself for taking things rather seriously and being an ass-hole. My friends made me walk down the stairs and left for LSD’s home around 1:30am. I could experience a wave of deep pains by the time I reached home. LSD said, “Let’s see a doctor”. I told, “No”, we would review the case tomorrow and crashed into bed.

The next morning, I was screeching under pain on my left chest area, ribs and complete middle- back. I was not able to gather the strength to pull myself together for getting up, sitting down, lifting things or even wearing my clothes. It was time to see a doctor and we went to Apollo clinic, I told doctor the juicy story and she was like, “Who told you to party here, when you belong to Delhi”, confusingly she asked me, “Is it a medico-legal case?” I replied ‘No, don’t worry’. Post examination she prescribed for X-Rays, Ultra sound and medicines. Fortunately, reports did turn out negative but I was still languishing with the chest, rib and back pain. The only way to deal with this was to pamper myself with care and it started showing signs of improvement after 9-10 days of medications. I didn’t tell anyone about the case not for the fear of getting embarrassed but for the sake of pain and drama it would have created across the relationship spectrums. I did write something on Facebook to make myself feel good, ‘Ohh my Gawd lag gayii…’ because this is the place where you are seldom taken seriously.


Getting bashed up by a stronger race of species was neither heroism nor a ‘Satyagrah’ but had there been one or two more rounds of their blows I would have been critical or ended up in an ICU. The experience; scuffle, punches and moment was straight out of some movie’s action scene and I was feeling it ‘real time’. It has etched a lingering-sweet memory on my mind and I would always remember it for one thing, from all of the obvious, that I stood up to someone’s nonsense like a fighter and braved my way through the most miserable of hopes. I don’t know what my mates feel about the ‘Prison' night but we had a great time together till Tsunami struck.


Cheers Peeps! … Annu

Take 2: Arranging a Bride...

Take 2: Arranging a Bride…

This second part was long due but couldn’t commit self to it because there were enough worldly obligations around to corrupt my mind and soul. The eagerly anticipated sequel is going to be masaledaar, loaded with twists & dead ends and based on true misadventures of a boy (now a man). I still don’t understand why do people are fascinated by such plots, which provide them a peek-a-boo into the lives of other famous beings (...okay, let me be famous for this). Guess voyeurism has been a favorite time pass since the beginning of the mankind, only this time I am serving it.

It’s been a gap of good two years since the time I wrote my first blog on this debatable subject and lot has happened since then like… Now I am two years older, have been relocated to Delhi from Bangalore and recession is almost over. What have not changed much are my work designation and the fact that I am still unmarried (Sigh …having said this publicly I am feeling lot relieved). Being unmarried at this age (have seen 29 monsoons) is like committing sin and the charges leveled against me, by my relatives, are non bail able even at the Apex court. It’s not like I am not ready for marriage but the fear of starting my third innings with a strange partner (remember… my flop love assignments) puts me to scrutinize lot many things in a potential life partner. It can be about education, job, her nature, commitment, looks, height, figure (come on …to desire is male), etc, though I have lowered my benchmarks for all the selection criteria. So I am all ready to compromise but guess my dream girl is still not around or not ready to compromise for me… (damn ...my charm).

If I am not content with a girl’s profile (bio-data + picture) I don’t take it to next level but this comes with ‘conditions apply*’ sometimes when the ‘Rishta’ has come from your extended relations and you are being ‘*white-mailed’ to meet the girl or her guardians. To confess, till date, I have not met a girl / her guardians of my choice confido. The series of meeting started in the summinters of November 2009, I was in Delhi for one of my events and one fine day my mother told, “Annu, you are supposed to meet this girl (with family) from Gorakhpur”. I had no choice but to follow the ‘farmaan’ and no one came to my rescue, even my friends dodged to accompany me for the pre-nuptial meeting. The meeting was being coordinated by her brother and after several calls we decided to meet at a mall in West Delhi. Later her brother told me that he would join us late and I am supposed to coordinate with the mother-in-law (to be). The final scene opens in the mall and, it’s still vivid in my memories, as I approached the meeting point I saw a tall girl (in high heels), standing in opposite direction flaunting impressively long hair, talking to two ladies (her mother and bhaabi). I was like is she the girl? All it was getting filmy and it felt that DDLJ music was playing in the background. I gathered my senses, walked up to them, introduced myself and started talking. We discussed lot of things over snacks and I made it a point to pay the food bills. The family was nice and liberal, interestingly her brother had a love marriage with a Chinese girl (I was like ohh! man ...truly, love knows no boundaries, etc.). Soon her brother joined us and we five were all set for another round of fillings, this time her brother made a point to foot the bill and we settled the score. During this odd two hours long meeting I felt that the girl had started liking me but I was not ready to accept her in the way I should. I don’t know but she was not the girl with whom I could have pictured my life together. Actually you may not tell the exact reasons in such cases (like your crashed… job interviews). So, I had decided that the search was still on and in fact I was really sad, when I said ‘No’ to her mother for the ‘Rishta’. She was a lovely human being and wish she would have settled in life, with a man of her dreams.

The story moved on to next assignment, which happened with a girl’s maama ji in Bangalore. He was travelling to the city for some family function and would have decided to scrutinize ‘my candidature’ for her ‘bhaanji’. I told my parent’s, “I am least interested till the time I am comfortable with the girl’s bio and photographs” but again I was told she’s beautiful, hails from a very well-to-do ‘khaandan’ etc., and they would share the girl’s details after the meeting. So here I was at it again, lunching out with two strangers (girl’s maama ji and friend) and trying to be a gentleman in the company of two cosmo old men. Few days later I received a mail about the girl’s details and unluckily she was not the ‘One’.

Amidst all this, the online ‘Bride Hunting’ had become my routine job and I was checking over 40 profiles daily in the evening (after finishing my office work). It was certainly consuming a lot of time, energy but was equally committed because I was sure that this investment would give me results – manifold. I liked number of profiles and rejected number of profiles. Still remember a case, where I liked a girl’s profile and expressed my interest on it. She accepted my contact and I was going to be in Delhi for a short, zippy official visit (back then, I was in Bangalore). I sent a message to her, “I am in Delhi…, let’s meet to understand each other better and take this further.” Any guesses about her reply, she wrote, “Look I am seriously looking for marriage, not interested in dating.” I was aghast and replied, “Don’t tell me that in your family marriages still happens without seeing and talking to each other. I am here only for marriage and know suave, smart excuses for dating girls, I believe marriage is a serious relationship and we should know each other well before taking the plunge, which would happen only after meeting and speaking to each other”. Folks, just imagine, you have people searching partners on internet but have reservations to an extent of fooling themselves.

And akin all movie dramas, my mother is the most worried about my marriage and I have to answer her on all my rejections while my younger brother Manu supports my cases, practically. And supposedly my support system – my friends, don’t miss a single opportunity to scandalize my case with choicest of comments like - ‘Abey Buddhey hoke shaadi karoge kyaa...’, ‘I hope you are straight’, ‘Don’t look for models or beauty queens, be grounded’ …et all and I have no choice but to pretend that I take them seriously.

Let us move to case no. 4, which was supposedly going well till the time her parents expressed otherwise. I am not able to recall how we got introduced, was either through news paper matrimony or a matrimonial website, but we both liked each other’s profile. She was working in Bangalore with a software company. We started talking over phone, through messages and finally decided to meet. This was the first time when I was meeting a girl minus her family or mine. We decided to see each other at a mall (normally all modern ‘Arrange Rishtas’ begin from multiplexes / malls / coffee joints) and carried a company this time (a yellow flower for the girl). She was good looking and we hit it instantly. She turned out to be more liberal and that made me more demanding (don’t fan your imagination mates). We decided to shift our base to a quiet place and headed towards ‘Barista’ in a five-star hotel. The Q& A round begins over my fave coffee, she appeared to be little jittery while I tried best to hide my nervousness. The coffee session was not enough to satiate our appétit and we moved to a ‘bowling lounge’, in the hotel’s basement, in the quest of baking a marriageable relation. She hardly had his hands on this ‘German’ game and I was all ready to coach her for a good time. We were enjoying each other’s company, offered her a beer (she politely said ‘No’, while she confessed her love for vodka… though sometimes) and in turn she told me to have one. Amazingly we never realized when we had spent 3-4 hours together. The longest time I had spent ever with a stranger in ‘The pursuit of marriage’. It was about 9 in the night and she had to return to her P.G. I walked her till the nearest bus-stop and while waiting for the bus, I told her, “We had a good time but we need more time to know each other, perhaps it requires a second, final meeting.” She smiled and said, “I agree, we should catch up soon”. Her bus arrived, she boarded, we waved bye to each other without knowing that this was our first and last meeting.

The next case was no different; my maama ji came across a girl’s profile through a distant relation and was following it up with the girl’s maama ji. I didn’t know much about her except the details provided in the profile and two photographs, which was not very convincing. While I was still considering my next step, it came to my knowledge that the girl’s maama ji wanted to pay an unofficial visit to my home and meet my parents. I protested and was equally condemned by family for being so narcissist. The meeting happened successfully and my family waved a green flag (almost similar to a ‘danger’ alarm for me). The girl’s brother started following up with me and we decided to meet in Lucknow during the first week of June, 2011. Her brother wanted to plan this meeting in Kanpur along with my mother and father, which I politically and practically refused. Meeting my prospective ‘wife’ at my home town with family would have come with loads of emotional baggage and Instant expectations. So on a sunny Saturday, I travelled directly to Lucknow, my brother joined me from Kanpur and we met at a Mall (where else could it had been possible). The girl’s family came with a bigger delegation (girl, brother, bhaabi and a kid) and soon everybody excused us for a personal discussion. She was a ‘small-town girl’, well brought up, about to finish his PG, aspiring professor and supposedly a great home-maker. While I knew my answer well before this meeting, I took (and equally gave) this entire pain one for my family and two to review my elementary Impression. After all, I am famous for making wrong decisions. We left for respective destinations and I told my family that she is not ‘the girl’. I sensed that my mother would not be comfortable in conveying this so I took the responsibility (of talking to ‘Sidhharth’ ). Just imagine a would be ‘groom’ saying ‘No’ to his would be ‘brother-in-law’ about the ‘Rishta’ after such a heavy family encounter and long family affair. I was so ‘emotionally chained’ and at loss of words that it took my all moral and social values to make that one last call to his brother. The pressure from my family & relatives was so immense that I might have given into it without being confident and certain this time.

The latest case happened in the month of July and has its unique characteristics to be included in this discussion. The girl was working with a news channel in Noida and we were approached by the girl’s mother (courtesy online matrimony). We shared the details, her mother spoke to my mother, apparently my mother was really impressed from her, and they even started talking about engagement and other marriage functions, places, etc. This time, I was not convinced but not against the girl’s profile also (such condition should be termed as ‘groom confusionism’). So, we had a first call on a Thursday night, which continued rather long (over an hour). This girl was really impressive to talk; she had this gift to guess two or more things about you over a conversation. I want to say that her experience would empower her to judge people with 80% precision but she also had this ‘Me’ thing about her, she was a state-level sports person, a news anchor, acted in two-three Punjabi video albums, etc., etc. By the end of our conversation, I was feeling dwarfed in front of her achievements. Finally, we decided to see each other on a weekend at a coffee shop (you got it right, mate) with a precondition (from the girl’s side) that both would declare the ‘marriageablity test’ results right there. I was like that’s gone too bold. She came along with her younger brother (both were flaunting weird chemistry, unlike brother-sister duo). And eventually the judgment-moment arrived, she waved a green signal and I stammered a red. Perhaps, my verdict didn’t go well with the pretty lady and she started saying things like, 'Nobody has never dare say ‘No’ to me’, ‘You would lament your decision later – ek baar fir soch lo’, and even accused me of already being in a relationship with another girl. I was little scared of her allegations, tried to manage the situation but she continued her hostile behavior. I kept mum till the time she left and warned my mother of taking any call from the girl or her mother. And yeah, I did make a wish to the almighty to get her dream man fast. God bless you, lady!

It’s difficult to fall in love with an ‘arrange marriage’ girl in a first sight or meeting, perhaps that love could also be discovered after the marriage but then in anticipation of this love-chemistry I can’t risk a life-time decision. I know am choosy but my selection, most of the times, is as good or bad as other’s acceptance / rejection. I keep getting Interest messages and proposals but now the demographics have swinged to Women’s in their 30s instead of girls of my age. These proposals come from all walks of life, places like MP to Rajasthan, from divorcees to issue-less and from ambitious feminist to job-less. Well, it does surprise me but I always give respect to the feelings of the other person. I strongly believe that this Online matrimony culture have spoilt the wannabe brides and grooms with online profiles. The result is we are never confident about the available prospective life-partners and most of the times ignore them in quest of the ‘Perfect Bride’, which we think would find on spate of matrimony portals boasting message like “We have thousands of matching profiles waiting exclusively for you”. Though it has empowered us in expressing ourselves or giving liberty to choose our ‘soul mate’ but it has taken away the a precious thing from us - Time. I am sure if we conduct a survey on people registered with the matrimony portals and finding a suitable match with the help of such sites, we would discover that the ‘Age of marriage’ for all those men / women will be older than those of getting married normally. I so wish if there could be a ‘Groom helpline’ on the lines of nationwide ‘Women helpline’. ‘We’ the ‘groom population’ need it much desperately than any other minority community to save the human race... (And it’s not a Hollywood dialogue).

Back to my case, the hunt is still on and I am committed to it. My next and final series would come post my marriage, which should cover my experiences from a real marriage, reveal some hidden truths and daring facts about a social, physical and emotional confluence ‘marriage’.

... Annu

Aashiqui ke daur kam aaya karte hai..

..it's a ghazal this time. ..and probably one of my best compositions. ..few lines are really close to my heart ..hope u would also love it. ..to araz karte hai

Jo raat  zulfon ke saaye me bikhar jaye, betaabi ke aise din kam aaya karte hai

Har shaam maangane walo ka mela lagta hai, par Dard baatane wale kam aaya karte hai

Kisiki Chahat me imaan behak jaye, imtehaan ke aise pal kam aaya karte hai

Sab lutaa ke bhi jo muskuraaye, aise deewano ke naam kam aaya karte hai

Kisiki ek awaaz par Dil ki raftar bad jaye, raahat ke aise lamhe kam aaya karte hai

Yun to hum sadiyon itezaar kar le, par haseeno ke aise farmaan kam aaya karte hai

Jaise kotho pe mujraa har shaam hota hai, par Dil ke kadardan kam aaya karte hai

Mano bande dua mein Ishq mange, aur rab bole hum zameen par kam aaya karte hai

Yeh Dil kisi ki muskurahat pe fisal jaye, ab Dil-lagi ke aise mauke kam aaya karte hai

Yun Aashiq pehle bhi bahot they, par lagta hai ab Aashiqi ke daur kam aaya karte hai


Shukriyaa..

Let there be an Inspiration

...And I would survive without alcohol and doperoids. Annunymous

I was supposed to write an Inspiring piece of story but end up plagiarizing from the life of few finest human beings. The fact that I am organically less talented has contributed to its core and my work has become an artificial non-fiction. Eventually in the absence of script (read dearth of original copy) I settled for creating a collage of my experiences and casted none other than the word ‘Inspire’ in the lead role, supported by character artist ‘Motivation’ and the very versatile ‘Courage’, ‘Belief’ among the main star casts. Just a note of caution, all brainy and intellectual folks don’t use your grey cells just read it with the flow and enjoy it by heart.

“Inspiringly Inspired Inspiration”, perhaps these three ‘3D’ avatars of the word – ‘Inspire’ and the new line can trigger an out of box motivation for an inspiration hungry human being like me (…I am an Inspiring Guzzler and can inspire a teetotaler to be a tanker once in a leap year) but I must admit.. it does not and it would remain just another word (Inspire) until you translate it into a purpose. Let’s get deeper and delve into the philosophical powers of the word ‘Inspire’, when it performs or links with a belief and purpose. It becomes the only medicine, which you take without any prescription most of the times, the only catalyst, which can pump your heart faster apart from chocolates or drugs, the only activity, which satiate your innate needs apart from sex or masturbation, the only experience (remember Goosebumps), which may come from watching a dream come alive, listening to extraordinary people and of course an out of body encounter.

We often seek divine intervention when times get really tough but finally it’s our intervention with the destiny, which sails us through while we, the mango people (we are mortals and life per se has no age), never ever realize that. The source of inspiration motivates us to challenge the boundaries and if succeed we become limitless. ‘Inspiration’ keeps changing its address (and he is not a criminal) Some would find it in yoga or meditation, others in music, movies or creative pursuit, few in books or stories, some in power or success while balance in Nature or Social work, etc. But the address, which would be the most sought after, resides in true Human stories. Inspirations may surprise us coming from simplest of experiences to unbelievable events. Stories, which have been scripted against all odds, courage pitted against the devils and gods, perseverance holding an active volcano, beliefs glowing all over like an aura of underdogs and passion brewing out of every bean of action. You pick stories of the real life heroes and you will be amazed, you would get intoxicated by the potions of courage and belief in the cocktales (Rx. one time a Week, empty stomach) of such brave hearts.

Dhirubhai Ambani is perhaps a legend of such inspiring stories. He was the first generation business man with no political or bureaucratic lineage and even riches for that matter to make things possible with the dough power but he knew himself better than the world (and that’s the hallmark of great human beings). We should not forget at that time, pre-liberalization era, the economic conditions, openness in the system didn’t exist and was topped with over dose of traditional red tapism but he managed to bring a revolution and created foundation of an empire. His textile unit, during 1975, was certified as meeting the world class standard by the World Bank. So what if he resorted to some unfair practices to activate his destiny, he did all that for the lack of system and eventually created global standard businesses, wealth and innumerable jobs. He was always available for his family and society. His act paved ways for all budding entrepreneurs post that. This inspiration is coming straight from the years of 1950s to 1980s, when such stories were unheard of and in fact today perfectly qualifies to be a Myth (only if you believe in this subject).

Have come across few of successful first generation business men, whose success stories are not less inspiring; some have seen the toughest time during the recession period of 2008-2009 while some just led by their passion and dream chose the less travelled road of struggle and hardships. They saw their dreams almost embracing the dust but they clinged on to their belief and somebody from nowhere came to the rescue with placing considerable faith in them and giving a chance to pump life. What could be the reasons for such luck? My belief says it’s because of their unflinching courage / belief and the singular purpose of the life. They have built their system (dreams) around like minded people, have empowered them and even liberated them with the materialistic issues, like extending loans for securing their own house in the city. Once a first generation entrepreneur told me, “I have seen that the best jobs can be done by a team of average like-minded talented individuals.” It’s such a simple observation but carries lasting impression. These inspiring human beings may not come into the notice of public or create headlines in news papers but they do make difference to the people around them and inspire all those, who become a part of it. Their stories are biological tonic of inspiration, an experience that may take your life time to discover.
Movies like Gladiator, Chak de India, Lagan, Rang De Basanti, Cindrella Man are cinematic inspirations while movies like Spiderman, Harry Potter, 3 Idiots, Titanic can only entertain but not inspire in a way the former series would. The catch is they are built around courage, passion, singular purpose and belief in one self. Whenever these ingredients would come into picture, it would create memorable and inspiring experiences. I have a collection of inspiring movies, which I would watch late night whenever I feel low and lost in life. Take the latest case of the movie “The Social Network” – the protagonist believes in creating something bigger and was driven by his belief and purpose. He was so passionate that he seized every single Idea coming from a dumbest of conversations and later when he presented his Dream in front of the world, people lapped it and hailed him as one of the biggest innovations. Now that act was executed against all time, people, trends and faced toughest of challenges. It did inspire lot of cult audience, who was craving for such true stories. The protagonist in the movie ‘127 Hours’ has displayed unparallel courage and scripted his own survival story. That whole night, I was wondering that can I be like Franco – fearless, crazy, adventurous, brilliant manager of my life.

The Indian Heavy weight boxer, Virendra Singh Gold Medalist of the Asiad 2010 was in a vital situation, when he broke one of his fingers during the final match fight but then he didn’t let the opponent sniff the weakness and fought with utmost courage, stamping his belief in the every punch he marked on his face. Finally he brought him down and the History was all the Glory. He was driven by a purpose, which was left incomplete when he lost his Gold during the Common Wealth Games 2010 final. This is what such acts bring to table and inspire us to put an unforgettable mention.
And the company of some human beings is always so inspiring that you never mind them meeting or talking again and again. They would carry such a persistent strong positive attitude that whenever you find yourself in troubled waters you would just want to be with them for a while. These people are into something beyond the obvious; they are into creating positive state around them, always talking bright and light. Their attitude would rub on to friends, colleagues, relatives and you can feel the milieu changing with their presence. This is how some people sprinkle inspiration around them. A breath taking dialogue from a forth coming movie ‘Source Code’ – “What would you do if you know you had less than eight minutes to live, I would make those seconds count.”

Just take one of my crazy cases, for me beauty is equally inspiring. Spotting a beautiful face among the crowd invigorates my belief in life that it’s beautiful and if you are lucky to see that beautiful face every morning, your day is worth it. The life turns so serene and simple. It also coaxes me to look forward to a new morning every day, early inspiring encounter every morning. Still remember few of my friends, my graduate and post graduate fellows, who have chosen their dreams and wanted to be a journalist, businessman, producer, director, anchor, actor, etc. Even today they are committed to the dreams and have sacrificed life for it while others chose to settle for easy professions and available options. Now if you would review their stories today, your eyes would welled up with proud and Inspiration. Success (or not) is a second topic but the struggle, belief and the road travelled so far is itself a high octane story.

I would just leave with a simple thought, Look back to your life, your journey from childhood to adulthood (whatever you can remember), you would realize that the report card of your life is nothing less inspiring than anybody else in this world. You would have done your best assignment with the given means and time. We often undermine ourselves and ignore our stories, looking up to someone.. we would have desired to be, forgetting the beauty of present and the person we are today. You are as inspiring as any Great in this word and you would be surprised to know that the Legends often look up to someone else for Inspiration because they would never have felt the same way, looking back in their life. Remember US President Obama often says that how he owes his life to Mahatma Gandhi. We are like Small Suns, we may never understand how many lives we have illuminated or saved (influenced) with our presence or deeds but would always seek more source of energy (inspiration) inside to keep burning and feeding our Small Universe. And few of these Small Suns get bigger by time and follow their fame into the Chronicles of the mankind History.