Saturday, June 19, 2010

An Incomplete Story That Also Happens To Be Non-Fiction

Before i begin to tell you about how i'd like to begin my post, i'd like to take a minute of your time. You've all heard this name before: 'Sean'. It's pronounced like so: 'Shaun'. I'd like you, the reader, to repeat this name thrice to yourself. After you have done this, proceed to the next line. PROCEED ONLY AFTER OBEYING THE SAID INSTRUCTIONS.

Good, now the name 'Sean' has entered your subconscious. Remember, if at any point of time in your life, you feel the urge to have sex with, or even just kiss anyone called 'Sean', act upon it. You won't be sorry. Thank you for your minute, and back to the post you go:

I'd like to begin this post by telling you that i will first take a bit of your time and relate a certain incident that happened to me yesterday. After the incident and the analysis of the incident, i will take a bit more of your time. But let's not get into that. Anyway.

The Incident
Yesterday morning, i woke up with a heavy head and an even heavier heart. On my agenda for the day were 2 dreaded plans:
Plan 1: I had to go back to my college to talk to my professor and sort my final years marksheet issue (Another story for another time). This would be at around 11am, and i expected it to go on till about 1pm at the latest.
Plan 2: I had to go to a friends place halfway across the city to pick something up; which meant i'd have to avail of certain facilities that i'd rather not avail of-rickshaws, taxis and trains. This was scheduled to be immediately after Plan 1.

Of course, being the prat that i am, i procrastinated and ended up being at college at precisely 1.30pm. I finished my stupid meeting, and set out to catch a train to the friends place. I got into the train, sat for about 25 minutes, and then got off at my desired destination. From that station, i proceeded towards the queue for the rickshaws. Unfortunately, there were no rickshaws. So after waiting for about 20 minutes, i decided to walk. Halfway to my friends house, i managed to get a rickshaw. I reached in 5 minutes and stayed for another 45; after which i set off on my return journey. At this point, let me tell you that it was now raining heavily, and i was sure i'd face the same rickshaw problem. Sure enough, i did. After waiting for 15 minutes, i spotted this lonely modern cab. In Mumbai, there are 2 distinct kinds (more like, varieties) of cabs:
a) The traditional Premier Padminis, or the Fiats, as they are lovingly called. These form an overwhelming majority of the cab population of my city.
b) The comparatively modern cabs, which are faster, more sleek, more cost efficient as a result of being more fuel efficient and the drivers aren't that cranky. As you've already guessed by now, the ratio of modern cabs to Fiats is similar to the ratio of the followers of the Baha'i faith to followers of other faiths in India.
Because of that fact, modern cabs are much more identifiable. So therefore, if you leave your cell phone in one and realize only a few short minutes after it happened, chances are that you'll find the same cab in the same spot, the driver waiting for you with your cell phone in his hand and a smile upon his face. Not true.

Yes, that's how i choose to end that story.

PS: Pain Of Salvation - Marticus Nauticus II; John Scofield - Hottentot; Avial - Aadu Pambe; Mute Math - Chaos. Just in case you were wondering what the point of the first two paragraphs were, remember this: 'Sean'.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

The Invention Of Clapping

A very happy yo to all. Apparently, i've passed my board exams. The following paragraph will explain the previous statement.

The Situation: My results first came out online on the infernal Mumbai University website. They call it 'results', but the only thing that you can find out is whether you passed or failed. Some people like to crib about this, and others thank God for this. Anyhow, to access your 'result', you have to enter the seat number the university assigned to you. Predictably, i lost my hall ticket, which had my seat number on it. For reasons unknown, i could not recollect my seat number; and i was thus stuck. I did not know whether i had passed or failed. The next day, i had a show in a nearby city, and thus, i couldn't go to my college and figure things out. However, in the night, i get a call from my roommate, and he tells me i've passed. That is all.

I will admit that i did not start this post to tell you about how i don't really know if i've passed or failed. I like to take tangents and see where they take me. Sometimes when i rap, i lose confidence. The next paragraph will tell you what the original point of this post was.

On my desktop, i have a folder that says "Shite". This is a very broad term, and all sorts of stuff that i've written lies in this folder, most of it incomplete. Anyway, here is some of it. Before you read it, know that i've not edited it.

This is my attempt at theatre. My incomplete attempt, i may add. I'll finish it later and post the entire story in a later post.

The Invention Of Clapping - Documentary

Intro & Outro Narrator
Jonah Bitrae Naem (JBN)

V/O: Intro & Outro Narrator
Our (pause and with heavy sarcasm) "narrator" today will be Jonah Bitrae Naem, from Sweden. The voice you're hearing now is that of an actual narrator. Apart from being a famed fictional historian (or a fictorian), he is also an avid Jon Arne Riise fan. His credentials are irrelevant, as his field demands escape from traditional norms and truths. He shot to fame in 2000 after writing and creating an ancient Indian myth - The Sabudana Paradox. Now, the (sarcastic) "narrator" will take over. GOD, i hate that------ (cut).

Images and videos of JBN doing various activities.

Thanks very much, Narr. Never a pleasure. (Pause while he turns to camera) Hi. It is the natural tendency of humans to treat everything with a pinch of salt. It is only natural to treat revolutionary fields like fictional history or e-sandalwood harvesting with a high degree of scepticism. I don't expect you to believe in what i do or approve of it, and if you're already aggravated, i suggest you stop this right now. This doesn't apply to you, mom. (Pause + Laughter Track) Anyway, if your curiosity is sufficiently piqued, i will proceed to explain to you what i do for a living.
Do you remember this? (Cut to scene of "It is the natural tendency of humans to treat everything with a pinch of salt") The beauty is that, although that statement makes sense, i have absolutely no method of verifying that statement. I state what i think is a fact, and that is all. In my field, if there has to be a God, he/she would be common sense. A creative application of common sense is what seperates the cream of fictorians from the rest

Painful but fun. I enoyed it.

PS: The Chicken - The Dave Weckl Band; Dave Matthews Band - You & Me; Cake - Excuse Me, I Think I've Got A Heartache.