When a film, like Bombay Talkies, claims to be a tribute to 100 years of Indian cinema, it raises the expectations of the audience. Although Bombay Talkies doesn’t fall flat, it barely manages to stay afloat all through.

When viewed in isolation, without the burden of the insanely high expectations, Bombay Talkies is a good movie. It is a good movie because it is a brave and a crisp attempt to venture into uncharted territories, with each of its four stories. The coming together of four successful directors to tell stories connected to Bombay and Hindi movies is a novel idea. But unfortunately, that is where the novelty ends. None of the four stories take on the major recurrent themes of Indian cinema – be it the love story theme, the musical theme, or the action hero theme. Each story talks about an obscure scenario of a struggling soul in Bombay. Also, one of the four stories is not linked to movies in any which way. These are the reasons why one would question the credibility of calling this movie a tribute to Indian cinema.

Positives
Nawazuddin Siddiqui gives yet another impressive performance as the struggling theater artist in Dibakar Banerjee’s story. Zoya Akhtar’s story about a kid trying to realize his dream – and the obstacles he faces – is touching in parts.

Karan Johar’s story, although brash and in-your-face, has some really witty wordplay and some good performances. Anurag Kashyap tells his story in a very Kafka-like manner, which for me is a new beginning for mainstream Hindi movies.

Negatives
A weak story-line in two of the four stories, saved only by incredible performances by the actors. The movie has a patchy feel to it. It looks classy at times and very raw and grind-house-ish otherwise. The expectation from each story that it could have tapped into Hindi cinema in a much better way is something which will work against this movie.

Surprises
The Randeep Hooda lip-lock. I wont say anymore. Its a surprise <hush hush>.
The ‘Bombay Talkies’ song after the ending credits.

Bombay Talkies in no way can be called a tribute to Indian cinema. It can be called a set of interesting tales set in Bombay, at best. Watch it if you are in the mood to try something which is different, but not necessarily good-different.

Rating – 6.5/10

(Images: from the Internet)

The crisp golden sand cools my feet as I walk along the beach, my eyes absorbing the beauty of nature. The water is gushing gently under my feet, sparkling in the sun’s golden light. It’s a little after 6pm; I stand there, the wind blowing through my hair, thinking about what article I should write for the newspaper next week.

I have a little column that I write every Sunday. I don’t write about the ordinary stuff. I don’t write about corruption or about fashion or food. I write on “the miracles of life.”

You see, according to me there are no coincidences, only miracles.

My grandmother used to show me a new miracle everyday when I was small. Once, she gifted me a caterpillar in a box full of leaves and told me to watch it everyday. And I did, the caterpillar kept growing fatter and fatter each day. Then, one fine day I looked into the box to find a beautiful velvety black butterfly with red spots on it, the caterpillar all gone! My grandmother came to me and said, “See this my child? This is a miracle.”

Since then, I learned how to observe everyday miracles. Tiny dew drops on the flowers, early in the morning, making them look like roses studded with pearl; sitting in the garden and watching the fireflies glowing in the dark are all wonderful miracles to me, and I love to write about them.

I love to make my readers aware about the fact that in this busy, cruel life, there are everyday miracles that make life beautiful. So, here I am, at the beach, looking one such miracle to write about.

My attention goes to a young, quarreling couple. The lady, I figured from their conversation, was pregnant and it seemed as if the husband was not happy about it.

“Look, Stella, we cannot have this child. It’s a cruel world, and we are not equipped to protect this child from all the horrible dangers,” the husband explained.

“But darling, please! Give it a chance; we will take the best possible care of our child,” Stella cried.

And so they went on, as I was lost again in my chain of thoughts.

We are all so caught up with our lives, so busy with work. Are we ever going to understand what we are missing? When was the last time anyone of us let our hair down and danced in the rain? When was the last time we had hot fudge Sunday without worrying about how fat we were gonna get? When was the last time we did something that we really loved? Its impossible to remember, isn’t it?

I suddenly drifted back to the present as I felt someone tugging at my hand. I looked down to find a small girl about the age of 5 or 6. She had light brown locks gently touching her shoulders, with huge deep brown eyes looking at me innocently.

“Hi, I’m Cecelia,” she said.

“Well, hello darling, I’m Amanda.”

I bent down, took her hand in mine and asked her what the matter was. My attention went to a small heart shaped box that she was clutching in her hand. She extended her hand, presented me the box and said, “This is for you.” “

Well… I am touched,” I replied, hugging the little angel.

“Go, on. Open it,” she said. I started unwrapping the box curiously, careful not to tear the golden paper. On opening it, I was mildly surprised to find nothing in the box. On seeing my surprised look, she smiled at me and replied, “I was walking down the beach when I saw you all alone. I came and stood beside you but you didn’t seem to notice, you had such sad eyes. So I thought I would give you this little present. This box is not empty at all! I’ve blown in thousands of hugs and kisses for you so that you won’t ever feel lonely.”

I was overwhelmed with emotion as I bent down and hugged her tightly, giving her a kiss.

I soon heard a voice calling out Cecelia’s name. “Ceci, Cecelia!”

I turned around to find a young couple that I assumed to be Cecelia’s parents.

“Ceci! Don’t you go running away from us like that, you scared us,” said her parents, sighing with relief to find her safe.

Her dad, then, came up to me while her mother took her to build sand castles.

He explained, “Hi, I’m Sam, Cecelia’s dad and that is my wife Jane. Last year my wife was very ill. She had a heart problem. We had little hope that she would make it through, as we were under severe financial stress. One day, when Jane was sleeping, Cecelia came up to me and asked me what had happened to her mommy. As she is small, I explained as best as I could that her mother had a very weak heart and that she would be soon going to Heaven where God would take good care of her. She then innocently asked me when was mommy going to come back. I was overtaken by grief and unable to say anything so I hugged her and told her that mommy was never going to come back. Later Cecilia went to her room and didn’t come out the whole day. I couldn’t be by her side because my wife’s health had worsened. We soon shifted her to an ICU. One day Cecelia came running to me with a heart shaped box wrapped in golden paper. She told me it was a present for her mommy and she wanted a ribbon to tie it. As she had not yet finished wrapping it, I opened the box to find absolutely nothing in it. My anger knew no bounds as the paper and box she had purchased seemed expensive and here we were having no money to pay for the surgery that could save my wife’s life. I told Ceci that this was no time for jokes and she should sit quietly in the waiting room. But Cecelia soon got herself busy running around the hospital crying for a ribbon. She ran into someone’s leg and fell. Seeing the child crying, the man lifted her in his arms and asked her what the matter was. Through her tears Cecelia explained to him why she wanted a ribbon so badly. After hearing her story the man asked her to take him to where her mother was. He turned out to be the famous cardiologist, Dr. Matthew. He then operated on my wife for free and saved her life. Later that day, Cecelia came in holding the doctor’s hand, carrying with her the same golden box which she’d shown me earlier. I noticed that now it had a beautiful red ribbon wrapped around it. She went to her mother’s side and gave her the present, telling her that this was a gift just for her. As my wife untied the ribbon and unwrapped the gift, she was mildly surprised to find nothing in there. Before she could  say anything Cecelia told her that when she found  that mommy was going to heaven because of a weak heart, she blew all her love and kisses into the box so that they her heart would become strong and she would not have to go to heaven. The doctor reminded us how lucky we were to have such a wonderful daughter. Jane soon recovered and now once again everything is fine, and we are leading our lives with utmost gratitude and satisfaction.”

The story bought a smile to my lips and a tear to my eye.

Cecilia’s dad continued, “Today is Cecelia’s birthday and when we asked her what she wanted to do, she said that she wanted to come here and gift golden boxes filled with love and kisses to people who are sad and lonely.”

As Sam and I walked back to where Cecelia and Jane were sitting, we saw her rush past us. Cecelia went to the young couple… the same couple that I had seen arguing about whether or not to bring their child into this world. I noticed that they had finished fighting and now were sulking, unhappy with the situation they were in.

Cecelia went up to them and gave them a tiny, little, golden box. There was a look of surprise on their faces on finding nothing inside, while Sam approached them to tell them the story of the golden boxes. After hearing the whole story, the couple were in tears as they embraced Cecelia.

The lady looked at her husband with pleading eyes and her hand on her stomach. The husband lovingly touched her stomach and nodded, smiling down at her. After sometime both of them got up, thanked Cecelia and her parents, bid them goodbye and walked home, hand in hand with huge smiles on their faces.

I spent some more time with Cecelia’s family, helping them to build sand castles, spraying one another with sand, and splashing sea water all over. We all watched the sun go down, and it was time to leave. I gifted Cecelia a flower shaped brooch which my mother had given me. She loved it and instantly pinned it on her pretty white frock. It looked just perfect. I hugged all of them, gave Cecelia a peek on her cheek, and promised to meet her every Sunday at the same spot.

As I walked along, still trying to understand what had happened, Cecelia rushed by me with a golden box in her hand. That little angel had no idea of how many lives she was changing. I was lucky enough to meet little Ceci, the angel of love. She proved to me that love still exists and it keeps growing each day. I smiled as I had witnessed a perfect miracle which would be in my column the next week.

(Image courtesy: cmpt from sxc.hu)

We talk a lot about our (mobile) phones, but do we ever wonder what they say about us? I mean, not as status symbols, but if they could talk, what would they say? Lets take a look – but before we do, I’d like to mention that the brands of the phones are not revealed on purpose in order to remove any potentially controversial airs.

Phone 1 – Holy, why am I in a tray? I was comfortably bumping against my owner’s bum a minute ago! Am I being operated on?

Phone 2 – Chill bro, your owner and mine are giving exams, so they were asked to deposit the phone here for safety, so they can’t copy in the exam using us.

P1 – Oh, but why only two of us then? There should be many, considering how almost everyone has a phone these days.

P2 – I suppose the other owners don’t trust this security so left their phones with their parents or something. So, now that we are here, let’s chat a bit? With some coffee? I do have the ccd app installed.

P1 – Sure, what to talk about though? I don’t want to know you as a phone! So many mindless technical details are bombarded about phones by people, that I’m dreadfully bored of them! Let’s talk about people, maybe? Starting with our owners! What’s yours like?

P2 – Oh, my owner is such a fitful and nervous person! The exact opposite of what I am. He takes so much care of me though, because of his nature. Never let’s me fall! In fact, I hardly have a scratch on me even after a year of use.

P1 – Wish my owner was that considerate! She drops me all the time, thankfully, not in boiling hot liquids! That would be horrific. But she has to do a lot of travelling, and I suppose she just gets tired. But she does clean me using a dry cloth whenever she gets the time, and regularly looks for system updates and stuff.

P2 – Does your owner have family? Mine lives alone.

P1 – Oh yes! Lots of family and lots of friends too. But, I daresay, she spends a lot of time with me, talking to people who are far away, while all the friends and family present there, look longingly at her, wanting her presence. I feel so sad when I look at their faces, especially her little sister who doesn’t understand the fuss about phones as yet.

P2 – If you ask me, there is no fuss about phones. We are devices of utility and should have been just that. What’s this stuff about status symbols and all? If you gotta make an urgent call, and your so called sophisticated phone system eats its battery and dies, I’d rather you have a simpler phone. Besides, the real people surrounding you, they have priceless expressions and interactions. It’s crazy people would trade that for talking with other people using emoji and smileys!

Suddenly, P1 starts to shake violently, apparently vibrating.

P1 – Oh look, yet another text. She has kept the vibrations loud on purpose, so that she does not miss a single communication. Coming back to our topic, yeah, I wonder of it sometimes too. If I were with my mum and dad, I’d only pay minimal interest to her, and yet she, having so much and so many people of her own, spends hours with me.

P2 – I guess its true what they say, when phones got smarter, people got dumber. Gah! There goes the bell, looks like the exam is done.

P1 – Yeah she will come frantically searching for me, to read all the texts that might have come in her absence. Better be prepared for the onslaught then! So long, friend!

P2 – So long!

(Image courtesy: dreamjay from sxc.hu)

It’s that time of the year when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences recognizes and rewards members of the film fraternity who have made their mark in the year that has gone by. Millions of viewers eagerly wait for The Oscars to be televised to see if their favorites are going to win it this time (last year, The Oscars was broadcast live in more than a 100 countries).

“Who would win the Best Actor?”, “Which film will walk away with the maximum honors?”, “Will the Academy follow the Golden Globes or the BAFTA when giving out the awards?” – and many more of these questions run through our minds as we wait with bated breath for the 85th Annual Academy Awards ceremony to be held at the Dolby theater (previously known as the Kodak theater).

Like everyone, I too have my set of Oscar predictions for all the major categories – praying for my favorites to win. Well, without further ado, let us dig into the nominations for this year’s Oscars.

Best Supporting Actress
1. Amy Adams – The Master (second favorite)
2. Sally Field – Lincoln
3. Anne Hathaway – Les Miserables
4. Helen Hunt – The Sessions (my pick)
5. Jacki Weaver – Silver Linings Playbook

Helen Hunt is most likely to walk away with the award this time, for she has a meaty full-length role in The Sessions. The other heavyweights in this section are Sally Field for Lincoln and Amy Adams for the Master. Anne Hathaway winning it for a musical seems very unlikely. Jacki Weaver does well but is eclipsed by De Niro in many of her scenes in Silver Linings Playbook. Amy Adams, with her fourth nomination in 8 years, may finally be recognized by the academy this year. It’s a tussle between Hunt and Adams.

Best Supporting Actor
1. Alan Arkin – Argo
2. Robert De Niro – Silver Linings Playbook
3. Philip Seymour Hoffman – The Master (my pick)
4. Tommy Lee Jones – Lincoln
5. Christoph Waltz – Django Unchained (second favorite)

Although Christoph Waltz waltzes through his part (that of a dentist turned bounty-hunter) in Django Unchained, he faces stiff competition from Philip Seymour Hoffman for his gritty portrayal in The Master. Alan Arkin is lucky to even get a nomination. Tommy Lee gives a power-packed performance but he may lose out as his role is not nearly as meaty as that of Hoffman and Waltz in their respective ventures.

Best Actress
1. Jessica Chastain – Zero Dark Thirty (my pick)
2. Jennifer Lawrence – Silver Linings Playbook
3. Quvenzhané Wallis – Beasts of the Southern Wild
4. Naomi Watts – The Impossible
5. Emmanuelle Riva – Amour (outside chance)

As much as I would want Jennifer Lawrence to win this one, this is a one-horse race with Jessica Chastain’s overpowering performance in Zero Dark Thirty. Emmanuelle Riva playing the two-time stroke survivor in Amour may cause an upset.

Best Actor
1. Bradley Cooper – Silver Linings Playbook
2. Daniel Day Lewis – Lincoln (second favorite)
3. Joaquin Phoenix – The Master (my pick to win)
4. Hugh Jackman – Les Miserables
5. Denzel Washington – Flight

This is a close one to call. Joaquin Phoenix delivers the performance of a lifetime in a hugely complex role in ‘The Master’. However, he is pitted against the seasoned two-time winner Lewis who portrays Abraham Lincoln with aplomb. Bradley Cooper is lucky to get a nod. Denzel Washington does well but not well enough to win this one this time. What might work in Phoenix’s favor would be the fact that the Academy has already recognized Lewis twice before. Fingers crossed.

Best Director
1. Michael Haneke – Amour
2. Benh Zeitlin – Beasts of the Southern Wild
3. Ang Lee – Life of Pi
4. Steven Spielberg – Lincoln (my pick)
5. David O. Russell – Silver Linings Playbook (outside chance)

This one has Steven Spielberg written all over it. With Ben Affleck’s absence from the nomination list, Lincoln is the heavyweight in this category. Silver Linings Playbook has an outside chance considering that Life of Pi will be rewarded in the visuals department. Benh Zeitlin for Beasts of the Southern Wild is lucky to get a nod (at the expense of Ben Affleck).

Best Picture
1. Amour
2. Silver Linings Playbook
3. Argo – my pick to win
4. Lincoln – outside chance
5. Life of Pi
6. Django Unchained
7. Beasts of the Southern Wild
8. Zero Dark Thirty
9. Les Miserables
10. Amour

Political thrillers have always been rewarded well by the Academy – a strong reason why Argo is the prime contender in this category. Another reason is that it covers up for not nominating Affleck in the Best Director category. Lincoln and Zero Dark Thirty would be worthy contenders but they fall short on some accounts. Lincoln – because it’s a story that has been told time and again & Zero Dark Thirty – because of its controversial depiction of torture. Django Unchained is way too wild to be endorsed by the academy. For its sheer brilliant visuals, Life of Pi will be duly recognized in the special effects category. Beasts of the Southern Wild, Les Miserables and Silver Linings Playbook round up to complete the nomination list.

Overall, I expect Argo and Lincoln to score big this year. However, the Oscars have always been known to throw a surprise or two. All we can do is wait for the Oscars to unfold and be mesmerized.

(Image: from the Internet)

This is not one of your run-of-the-mill self-help books. However, in its own blunt and in-your-face manner, it does give you some really essential insights on how to survive/circumvent the day-to-day challenges that office life throws at you.

Synopsis
The author takes an unconventional route in presenting the content in each of the chapters – hilarious illustrations, FAQs (of a different kind) and application of management models on mundane everyday situations. This style of delivery is what clicks and retains the interest of the reader till the very end. Had it been in the conventional prose format, it would have been hard to retain the reader’s attention past the first few pages.

Pros
Credit to the author for having so vividly described so many of the dicey scenarios faced at work along with hysterical yet semi-sane advice on how to wriggle out of such situations unscathed. The writing is laced with the right amount of humor (can get a bit lewd at times though). The first few chapters set the tone for the rest of the book. It is original. It is raw. It is in-your-face and it is a compelling read.

Cons
Some of the illustrations are quite extreme and could have been sobered down a bit (but that’s me). The second half of the book does not live up to the humor levels set in the first half. Maybe a re-ordering of the chapters would have helped. The author treads the fine line of giving advice while keeping the humor intact for most of the book, but he does falter on more occasions than one.

All in all, it is a fun read and is recommended for those who are new to the corporate world and are clueless about the ‘Office habitat’. Folks who have already spent years in the corporate jungle will be able to relate to many (if not all) of the instances mentioned in the book.

Go grab a copy soon.

(Image courtesy: Internet)

Unfortunately, we have no winner for “Caption This – XXXII”. However, that can change with this fortnight’s picture.

Do you think you have it in you to write a winning Caption? Well, here is your chance.

Take a good look at the picture below, and give it a caption that you think apt. If your caption is the best, you win, and your name will be announced (with a link to your site, if you have one) on the front page of The MAG. Additionally, you also stand to win a copy of the “Nude and Other Short Stories”.

The picture you have to caption to win Caption This – XXXIII is:

(Picture by Sunny Parampil. )

Caption the above picture, and if your caption is the best, you could get your name on the front page of The MAG (with a link to your site, if you have one) and you also win a copy of the “Nude and Other Short Stories”. The rules for the contest are as follows:
1. Leave your caption as a comment in the box below.
2. Leave your name and your email id, so that we can contact you… if you win, that is.
3. The winner will be chosen only if there are at least five valid entries for the contest.
4. The winner will be chosen by the Editorial body of The MAG, and no disputes in this context will be entertained. And that is all there is to it.

Happy Captioning!

These days it is impossible to watch any news channel for more than fifteen minutes without watching a gruesome rape story unfold.  This makes me wonder how we, as a society, are going to handle this issue, and more importantly is rape the only issue to be tackled?

Let me share a story with you. This is the first time I am penning this down or even talking about it in public.  I am sure after reading it every girl living in India will be able to relate to my story.

I was 13 then. Like most South Indian tam-brahm girls, I was into classical music and dance. But my journey to and from the class was hell; every time without fail.  A group of local boys living nearby used to wait on bikes to eve tease me.

I was always dressed in salwar-kameez with my dupatta fully covering me. I liked salwars, but I liked wearing short kurtis and jeans too. However, I was too scared to wear them to class. On my way to the classes, I ensured that except for my feet and face, not an inch of my body was visible.

My parents also advised to dress carefully to avoid such street side rogues. I did it all. But I faced fear every time. The boys, dotting the entire way to the classes, chased me sometimes. Once, they threw a bucket of water at me, drenching me completely, and I went back home crying all the way. They did different things each time – shouting vulgar comments about my body, or dress; describing my figure, walking alongside me trying to get close and, of course, trying something nasty; holding my hand, pulling me towards them, touching my body parts, and making me feel completely helpless.

I told my parents about everything. They felt bad. They were angry, but they felt just as helpless as I did. They warned me to be extra cautious and take a different route to my class. I knew that was not THE solution.  I know now that even my parents knew it. But like most middle class Indian parents with a girl child, they didn’t want to go to the cops or make a big issue out of it.

For a while, I felt like I should stop going to the singing and dancing classes, but I decided not to stop them, especially due to fear of being teased. I continued and so did these activities.

Be it traveling by bus, or even waiting for one, I was a victim of abuse almost every day. Every time I tried to resist in my own way. I shouted at the perpetrators, I gave them angry looks, I yelled at them but it was all in vain.

This went on till probably I was 21. Yes, nearly 8 years.

The first time things changed was when a guy stopped me on the street, asking for my name as he held me. I gathered all the courage I could and refused. He didn’t like the instant rejection and tried to manhandle me. I had had enough and it was years of frustration and anger that triggered me to do what I did next. I somehow freed myself from his grip, removed my footwear (the famous Indian sandal) and started beating him up. Even today, I don’t know why and how I did what I did. Maybe it was all the frustration and helpless anger pent up inside me all these years that made me take this step. Seeing me hit a guy, the other people gathered around to come to my rescue.

All these people did not appear magically.

They were watching that guy harassing me but had chosen to remain silent and kept minding their own business.  Only when I took action, did they act too. That day I realized that ‘self defense is the best defense’.

My parents were furious when they found out about what had happened. But, they were more scared than furious.

“What if that guy gets a group of men tomorrow to rape you? What if he kidnaps you?”

These kinds of questions were thrown at me again and again. I was tired. Tired of being silent. Tired of staying in fear. Tired of being unable to fight back. Tired of losing my self-respect and watching nothing change.

Today I am 25. I went on to pursue a successful career in America. But even today when I come to visit my parents, I see the same spineless goons on the same street. And they still try to make a pass at me or something when they see me.  It seems strange to me, and I wonder how some things never change.

So the real question is where do we start? Rape is surely a priority. But it all starts on a smaller scale. The things that I have described is how I feel these men really get the courage to do what they ultimately do – shatter a girl’s life and dreams. The change needs to be right at the grassroots level.  Change needs to happen in the well-lit and well-populated streets that we walk on every day, and the dark corners and shady lanes might just take care of themselves. The next time you watch someone in distress, don’t just stand there hoping and thinking it’s nothing serious. Intervene. Make a better world.

(Image Courtesy: binababy12 from sxc.hu)

Doesn’t the title sound oxymoron-ish to you? Can one make a difference at one’s own convenience? Read on to find out what I think.

I have always been under the impression that it takes an amazing amount of time, money and dedication to make any difference in this cruel world. The world around me, however, has been telling me otherwise. Apparently, I can make a difference at my own convenience, and in more ways than one – ways which I was unaware of until the recent past. Since I am aware of them now, I feel that it is my moral duty to enlighten you as well.

Running
I have been told that you can run for a cause. You can run half-marathons, quarter marathons, all-day marathons, and you can even run in the alley if it’s a sponsored event for a cause. My running for the cause is somehow meant to further the cause, although I fail to understand how.

Yes, maybe, if I was carrying supplies to the affected people while running, or if I was running in a hamster wheel which would convert mechanical energy to electrical energy, my running could make some sense. Otherwise, all I am doing is paying money to run with a tag that advertises the social responsibility quotient of a large corporate.

I am not against the people who think that their running makes a difference. If they truly feel that running alongside pretty women on well-maintained roads, covered by hordes of media people is somehow meant to translate into welfare for another lesser-privileged section of society, then I respect their choice. However, I choose not to be a part of this convenient way of convincing myself that I have done some good for the society by running my lungs out.

Wearing Black
Unless I am a person in an influential position in the political/social/economic hierarchy, my wearing black to support, or oppose, or sympathize with some worldly event is not going to help anyone in anyway. All I am doing is causing a spike in the black dye prices due to a surge in the demand for that commodity.

Photo-walk/Video-walk
I have been told that my photography can also make a difference if I buy an expensive DSLR and go around the city capturing the random everyday moments in every nook and corner. I have been told that this activity also has a name – it’s called photo-walking. It requires you to walk long distances with a heavy camera strapped to your neck (which in all probability could give you spondylitis over time).

Once I have taken these random shots, I have been told to use Photoshop to enhance these images and share them on every possible social network known to mankind. Looking at my photographs is supposed to make the world a better place. Again, I fail to understand how.

The ‘online’ way
For every share of this message, Facebook will contribute 2 cents towards saving a poor African kid – How often have we seen this  kind of a message shared on Facebook. While, Zuckerberg is still recovering from the disastrous IPO that happened earlier this year, I am not sure he would continue to pay 2 cents per share to that African kid any longer. All that will happen with this exercise is that Facebook would need to expand its database to accommodate more of such cyber junk.

Politicians definitely will not stop being corrupt just because I upload a photo of Anna Hazare, or Arvind Kejriwal, on my wall. All my RIP messages on FB or Twitter are not going to reach the deceased. Nor are they going to matter to the deceased’s relatives who may feel obligated to reply to each and every one of such messages.

And for the love of God, Microsoft will not give me millions of dollars if I share a message on FB. They did not pay me when, a few years back, I forwarded a message via email to everyone in my address book. They won’t pay me now either.

What to do then?
The next question which everyone will ask me is what do I do to make a difference. I won’t list down the stuff I do, as it get preachy. But, I would say that raising awareness is just the tip of the iceberg, and does not translate into much unless you go through with the entire process.

You have to dedicate your time, money (if necessary) and constantly channelise your efforts in the right direction to bring about some positive change in the world around you. Change does not come about if you make sporadic ‘at your convenience and comfort’ efforts. Such efforts can only fool you into believing that you are doing some good to the world, whereas in reality,you are not doing any good to anyone, including yourself. Signing off with a Sherlock Holmes quote – Food for thought!

(Image courtesy: calebac09 from sxc.hu)

Has it been a tiring day and you need to relax?
Or
Do you have a busy day ahead of you and you want to be ready for it in the best possible way?

The best thing to do in either of these situations is take a nice, hot bath or shower. Once inside the confines of the sanctuary that is your bathroom, what better way to relax further than to hum or sing loudly your favourite song? It does not matter if you don’t know the lyrics – you can simply make up your own. They will sound just as good, if not better.

Bathroom singing is an art that, like all ancient arts, is fast dying. The reasons for its extinction are not hard to find. The modern life and its ways are fast killing it.

Firstly, the time we spend in the bathroom has reduced greatly. Gone are the times when one had nothing better to do but spend a good half hour in there, just enjoying the bath. Now the world outside is calling, and everyone wants to spend as little time inside as possible. TV, Internet, cell phones are the new distractions, not to mention work.

Secondly, taking a bath has become so complicated. A different soap to wash your face, a different for the rest of your body; arms need to look good as well, so a moisturizing soap is a necessity for them.  Then you need a shampoo for the hair, and conditioner, and the list could go on. What happened to the good old times of: “One soap to wash them all, one soap to clean them”. One has to pay so much attention to all this stuff inside the bathroom that singing does not even enter the calculations.

Thirdly, as cities have grown, there has come about a concept of living in apartments, which has also led a decline in the practice of this great art. Now, when you sing in your bathroom, all the neighbours are listening to your performance. Some might come complaining and sometimes you, yourself, might just shy out of singing. Bathroom singing is strictly for “our ears only”, and if we wanted people to hear our singing, would we not be singing on stage?

Lastly, the sudden increase in reality shows like American Idol, Indian Idol, Australian Idol, and the clones have taken our traditional bathroom singer to the television. Anyone who thought he was any good went out to audition and was told that he or she had potential and they should try next time. Now they think that bathroom singing will ruin it for them and they don’t do it anymore.

Well, be it as it may be, I am not going to let this art die, and as long as I am alive and taking a bath, you can pass by my bathroom window and hear me sing. Don’t worry if you don’t know the song. More likely than not, it is something that I just made up.

(Image courtesy: salinqpusa from sxc.hu)

(The post is an adapted version of a post that was originally posted on the author’s blog)

Yes, the last bastion of the dumb-phone realm has given way.

Now, I too have a smartphone, a very smartphone in fact. I have been a late entrant into this world of smart-phones. In the marketing jargon, I would be called a late adopter or, to be more specific, a laggard in terms of embracing one of the many smartphone technologies that have been floating around for a while now.

I had always been a typically old-school firm believer of the fact that a phone should be used only to make and receive calls. I always doubted the utility factor of these so-called smart-phones. I imagined a smartphone to be just another electronic device that would eat a part of my day, just the way the laptop and the television do. It would be another screen that I would be staring at for a substantial part of the day.

It was only after a lot of pestering by friends, and the fact of my existing phone giving way, that I reluctantly went ahead and bought a smartphone (an expensive one if I might add).

However, from the moment I held the new phone in my hands, I have been hooked to it. What this four inch device has smartly done is that it has addressed most of my technology needs, and that too by utilizing the idle time that I had during any given day. The time I had left for other activities – my utility time – has remained unaffected.

Earlier, I had to set aside time for each one of my non-essential, but necessary activities. For instance, checking my FB profile, or paying my phone bill, or following Perez Hilton on Twitter, or downloading music, or watching a movie which I had downloaded long back but never got around to watch – were all separate activities, that I had to aside time for. Now, with my new smartphone, I get to slot all these activities into the idle time bubbles that are present all through my typical working day.

Every great innovation, however, does have its usability shortcomings, and this smartphone is no different. Just because there is an app and it is for free, does not necessarily mean that you should download it. Some of the apps may turn out be totally useless – a lesson I’ve learnt pretty quickly with experience. Also, relying extensively on this one device can make you absolutely clueless if the device goes for a toss. It’s always advisable to have a back-up plan in place. Taking timely backups of the data on your phone is a major pain saver – which is also something I have learnt from experience.

What I will also say is that if I had I bought a smartphone in 2008, or 2009, it may not have been a value for money investment. The smartphone market has matured now and it is having all kinds of services at optimal price points. It goes without saying that this is a pretty good time to invest in a smartphone if you do not have one already.

I may sound materialistic when I say this but a smartphone, used effectively, can actually make you happy in more ways than one.

(Image courtesy: rkmangham from sxc.hu)