The Dream Job

After a late night conversation, I finally discovered how people are in accordance to the kind of job they do. I have, in my own personal way, figured out that though there are millions and billions of people in the world, and each is different from the other, there are, in fact, just THREE kinds of people- as far as their working style is concerned. But to me, it says a lot about who they are.


The first kinds are the ones who work simply for money. It’s just a job for them. It doesn't matter what they do or who they are, they work because it pays. They detach themselves from their work and work 8-9 hours straight, like robots, like mechanical toys. They don't think about it. They don't care if they like what they do or not. And it's not as if they are in desperate need for money. They simply work because they get to spend. Job satisfaction only means a favourable environment and a good fat paycheck. I don't despise them, but I don't appreciate them either. They're not doing anything wrong, mind you. It’s just who they are. And there’s nothing wrong in that.

The second kinds are the lucky kind. They are the kind who know what they want, know what kind of work makes them happy and they find it. They take it as a hobby and they get paid for it. They love what they do. It’s the kind of thing sportsmen or writers or chefs do. They love to play. They love to write. They love to cook. It’s who they are. It’s what their heart lies in. It’s what they've always wanted to do and luckily they have got a chance to do it. Every day at work is simply like a holiday. They don’t work because they have to or because they need the money. They work because they want to. And I think it’s fabulous.

And then there are the third kinds. These are people who know what they want from a job, who’ve chalked out their dream when they were 10 or 11 years old. They know they can do it and no one else deserves it more than they do. But circumstances and life don’t work in their favour. It happens all the time. They want something but life has other plans. So they take up a different job. One that might not be what they’ve dreamed of, but one that pays; one that helps a family; one that secures a future. They resent it at first. But these are the true heroes. They put in everything they have into their job. They give in their heart and soul into it and do it like there is no other thing they want to do. They get better and better until they begin to like what they do. It takes them places. It makes them reach heights they’d never dreamed of. It makes them tough. It makes them strong. They might do something ordinary, but they’ll put something of themselves in it, they make it their own. They try new ways of making the work better, of making themselves better. And these are the kind who are most successful in life.





P.S. this post is dedicated to Lloyd, who, by the way, is the third kinda person :)

Raavan? Runnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!

One of the few pieces that I loved. Here's a review of the much talked about movie Raavan starring Abhishek and Aishwarya Rai Bachhan. Shobhaa De tells it all:



WHAT A DISASTER, SIRJI!


Such a pity, the much awaited ‘Dus Sarwalla’ turned out to be an unmitigated disaster! If only Mani Sir had made better use of his own ‘sar’, perhaps ‘Ravan’ would have fared better. A friend from Bangalore sent me a message that was pretty telling, when I mentioned I was watching the movie that evening. “Do take a torch and a good book with you, dear,” Prasad advised. I got the message but ignored him, telling myself (as countless Ratnam fans must have), nothing Mani attempts can be all that bad. In fact, Mani doesn’t fall into the ‘mediocre’ category—even at his most uninspired. That’s his genius. I hope this garbled and confused movie does not permanently tarnish the reputation of one of our most talented filmmakers. Simply put, it is a bloody bore. Too long, too tedious and too pointless. As for the performances , poor Abhishek dives down nose first in the very first scene—he doesn’t come up for air after that. Not his fault (I’m partial!). He is just such a loveable, good natured sort of chap, one just doesn’t associate brutality and violence with someone like him. And if his dark side is meant to hit audiences between the eyes, it seems childish to underline the point via black make up smeared all over his face and body, just in case we dummies don’t get the point. Between assorted face packs of haldi, ash (not his beauteous wife, but ‘raakh’), keechad and other muck, this Ravan (Beera) grins goofily through his evil deeds and seems incapable of hurting a makhhi. Meanwhile, it is Dev (Ram, played by Mr. Scowl), who does little more than glower into the camera, his expression disappointingly blank thanks to those strange brown cosmetic lenses (the sort starlets use for portfolio pics). No wonder his lovely wife (Ragini alias Sita ) makes cow eyes at Ravan and treats the besotted villain to glimpses of her creamy cleavage to torment and tempt the man further.

Forget all that Naxalitewaxalite, Aryan-Dravidian, Good Vs. Evil conflict or symbolism. Mani can’t seem to make up his mind about far more elementary issues — where the hell is the movie located and who are those strange looking tribals? Sometimes, the crowd scenes feature buxom village belles with streaked hair, super sexy backless cholis, perfect hair and make–up, like extras from a Bhojpuri film. At other times the same bunch is dressed in sack cloth, but with colour coordinated accessories. Aishwarya’s iridescent beauty is exploited in closeup after close- up, while her jungle make up goes from just mascara and the perfect lipglossed pout, to heavy duty eyeliner and blush on. But at least the make up is waterproof. Which is a good thing, since almost the entire film is shot under lashings of rain or a waterfall. As for the divine Ash’s performance – what can she do if her director has her gagged (literally!) through most of the film? Worse, any self respecting heroine would also have lapsed into stupefied silence had she been forced to wear what must rank as the worst costumes ever! Sabyasachi….really!!! First you do it to poor Vidya. And now Ash.

Moral of the story: One head is better than ten.

Interesting

Remember: Some glass slippers lead to romance..while others were just made to DANCE!

Football Fever

Having been a cricket fan all my life, I hardly ever watch football. I've never understood the game nor have I ever taken any interest in its culture. But in the past few days, I've been sitting with my colleagues and my dad and I've discovered things about football that I never cared to know.



First take the players. They're the most skilled sportsmen I have ever seen. And I say that with a heavy heart because, truly, my loyalty lies with cricket. But some of these guys take your breath away with the way they're so smooth and tactful with that ball. It looks like ice-skating or ballet sometimes, with how gracefully and swiftly they move at times. Its like a dance, only more complicated. but they've got you hooked with every move they make. They don't let you shift your eye from the game because you look away for one second and you might miss the best game there ever was. Their co-ordination and synchronisation reminds you of an Orchestra.


Then there's their coach. They're so involved in the game. Their dedication is an amazement to watch. The joy when a player scores a goal is beyond words! They all pile onto one another in absolute ecstacy and excitement and you think there's no better moment in their lives. The agony on their faces when their team isn't doing as well makes you cringe. They're part of the team and if they could, they would be on the field in a heart beat.



And best of all are the fans. Never before have I seen such a devoted crowd that worshipped the game and its players. With every goal they're up in their seat, cheering as if their life depended on it. The tears of joy touch your heart. Even though I've seen crazy fans at cricket matches, this is unlike anything I've ever seen. Tense moments have their eyes shut and their hands joined in prayer. They are just as much a part of the game as the players and it's quite a sight to see their excitement and pain.


Its a game unlike any other. I've taken a certain liking to the game only because its a game of skill and expertise. Its an intense 90 minutes and keeps you entertained throughout. So even though cricket is still (for now) at the top of my list, Football closely follows.

She walks in Beauty

I'd never thought it would happent to me. But she managed to do it. I thought she would never go for someone like me. I was too quiet and tame for her taste. When I met her almost six years ago, she was just like any other. And I didn't give her a second thought.

But when I met her this time, she'd changed. Or maybe I had. She looked different, felt different and even smelt different. One look at her and she'd managed to trap me. She made a place for herself in my head in an instant and as time went by it just grew stronger. She's an evil temptress. She crept in my thoughts so slowly I never felt her at first. And by the time realisation sunk in, it was too late. She was all over me. She has this power-I'd always heard. But now I knew from experience.

She has a million people who worship her and yet she wanted me too. She loves no one but everybody loves her.

When you're just introduced, you might think there's nothing special about her. But when you've known her long enough you just can't help yourself. You just have to have her. And even though she's not marriage material many would say, she's the kind of mistress any one would want to have. She can be a saint when she wants but drift into moments of absolute sin in just an instant. She's sexy, she's fast and she'll blow your mind.

I was lucky to see both her forms; as a vision in the early morning mist and as a wild party animal in the night. I saw her in the quiet hours when hardly anyone sees her. But I think its when she knows she can be who she wants without her admirers demanding too much from her. I felt at that time that she couldn't get any better. I could sit and stare at her for hours. She was what I call an 'artist's inspiration'. She brought out the writer in me and it was at that time I decided that I want to be with her forever.

But as the day progressed, I saw her tranform into the woman I've always heard about. She started off slowly at first- her pace increasing only by the hour. But by evening she was out of control. Every second got your heart pumping and your blood rushing. She was way too fast for my liking. And yet I could see people around me loving her tempo.


Everytime I thought she couldn't get any wilder she proved me wrong. She could stop traffic if she wanted and get them moving at her command. Everyone was at her mercy and still no one minded it. It was as if everyone was under her spell as her pace got everyone's heart racing to keep up with her. They were aroused by her and she knew it. She could destroy them and they knew it. But they still wanted her. I couldn't understand it but I was as facinated as anyone else would be. To witness someone turn people on with such expertise, it was more than i could handle. And yet I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I didn't want her like everybody else did, but I still wanted to be around her. I wasn't in love with her but I was still spellbound. There was a part of me that wanted to stick around to get to know her better. But the other half warned me I wouldn't be able to handle her. I wasn't ready yet. I wasn't prepared. I needed to be sure she's what I wanted. I needed to be sure I didn't want any other.

She would never be the same all day but she would still stay the same every day. She's terribly moody and yet its not a flaw.

It makes her who she is .

It's what gives her her identity.

Its what people love most about her.

Its what makes her MUMBAI.

Calling from Times of India

Its my 17th day at Times of India, Baroda and its been fabulous. I've always wanted to work for a big known popular newspaper. Wanted to know wht it feels like to work in the media. Feel the thrill of seeing your byline appear in the papers and have people call you saying "hey your name's in the papers today!!!" Everybody is as excited and proud of me as I am. N there's no better feeling. Even though I havent done any hard-core work, I'm still not completely useless. My 'colleagues' tell me I'm good at my work and I hope that someday I can be like them. I'm trying to learn as much as I can in this one month so that once im done studying I can be at a place where I know I'll be good and where people will appreciate my worth. I truly am grateful for this opportunity to work with dedicated and great journalists and some day I shall be just as great. Thank you to all.