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I watched this movie a long while ago. It was touching to the core. Overwhelmed I watched it over and again. There is something very unique and subtle about the human feelings, sensations and realizations embedded deep down. The plot is simple yet warm and passionate steeped in sincerity and bonding typical of a human soul.

There is a subdued air of romance and love about the whole theme but this love emanates out of the realization and commitment of the man with the family and the role and responsibility he has taken upon himself. This has more to do with the penance and grief he is suffering from within that induces him to go to every possible extent within his capacity to make amends for the accidental death of a stranger and the unintentional loss he has inflicted upon his family living worlds apart.

Apparently with all his sincerity and prowess, leaving no stone unturned that is humanly possible, he smoothly blends and mingles into their lives and turns things around for them! 

Perhaps it is another depiction and hue amidst a spectrum and rainbow of multitude of shades reflected by the prism of selfless and devoted love.

Each time I listen to the music from the movie, it leaves a lasting impression upon my senses and mind and transports me to another heavenly material-less world. But then this ghazal is immortal!

Lyrics:-

Koyi fariyaad tere dil mein dabi ho jaise
Koyi fariyaad tere dil mein dabi ho jaise
Tune aankhon se koyi baat kahi ho jaise
Jaagte jaagte ek umr kati ho jaise
Jaagte jaagte ek umr kati ho jaise
Jaan baaki baaki hai magar saas ruki ho jaise

Jaanta hoon aapko sahare ki zarurat nahin
Main sirf saath dene aaya hoon

Har mulaakat pe mehsoos yehi hota hai
Har mulaakat pe mehsoos yehi hota hai
Mujhse kuch teri nazar pooch rahi ho jaise

Raah chalte huve aksar yeh ghumaan hota hai
Raah chalte huve aksar yeh ghumaan hota hai
Woh nazar chupke mujhe dekh rahi ho jaise
Woh nazar chupke mujhe dekh rahi ho jaise

Ek lamhe mein simat aaya hai sadiyon ka safar
Ek lamhe mein simat aaya hai sadiyon ka safar
Zindagi tej bahut tej chali ho jaise
Zindagi tej bahut tej chali ho jaise

Is tarah pehron tujhe sochta rehta hoon main
Is tarah pehron tujhe sochta rahta hoon main
Meri har saas tere naam likhi ho jaise
Meri har saas tere naam likhi ho jaise

Koyi fariyaad tere dil mein dabi ho jaise
Tune aankhon se koyi baat kahi ho jaise
Jaagte jaagte ek umr kati ho jaise
Jaan baaki baaki hai magar saas ruki ho jaise

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‘Coaches don’t win you matches, players do’, goes the word of wisdom. But lets not forget one man’s contribution to the India’s lifting of the world cup after twenty eight long and tedious years. 

Taking over the coaching of the Indian team during turbulent times and then moulding it into an invincible unit by sheer motivational training in just three years has not only earned Gary Kirsten due recognition but also put many unsettled questions to rest. Most importantly when a former Australian great Greg Chappell fell out with the skipper and the team and packed his bags under bitter circumstances in a classic showdown that witnessed magnanimous exchange of vocabulary and accusations from both ends, the efficacy of foreign coaches in regional context was widely questioned. It was in those adverse conditions and controversy that Gary accepted the challenge to work in an alien world and environment. 

India and its cricket with all its geographical vastness and cultural diversity was all ripe to present every possible shock and challenge to a man on threshold of discovering wide regional, religious, traditional and ethical spheres within a whole. The team representing a rich mix emerges from a background comprising dozens of languages, having entirely different habits, preferences, approach and way of doing things. It was under those conditions that the man took to his job, not only acclimatized himself but just during a brief stint of three years, delivered and accomplished what none other could achieve for India during his tenure. 

In their own turn, looks like the Indian lads took his every advice to heart including indulging in fervent sex ( not between themselves ) before the match to stimulate flow of their hormones and testosterone yielding aggression and spirit in the field defying and thus trampling the solemn lessons of celibacy preached ardently by the fatherly figure of Mahatma Gandhi for decades.

Perhaps what makes Gary unique is his motivational approach. Knowing the potential and capabilities of his players apparently, he knew how to extract the best out of them individually and more importantly to gel them together into a formidable unit with full faith in themselves. That is the reason that even the cricketing giants like Sehwag and Tendulkar are all praise for the man and have been drumming about the difference he has made to their game and the Indian cricket. Going through a depressing phase, from a low, when he was even left out of the squad for a few games to the ultimate surge where he emerged as the man of the tournament, Yuvraj Singh acknowledges his coach’s contribution in his achievement. Even a senior and accomplished player like Yuvraj considers Gary a parental figure. 

Coaching a star studded rainbow of players with huge egos boasting of enviable and extravagant records takes all one could possibly imagine. In all probability, it was South African’s humble and intelligent handling, seamless communication and overwhelming commitment that helped him sail across the seas and deliver perhaps more than what he was expected to. 

With a job well done, while the man is all set to return to his homeland and family to possibly accept a similar assignment for his native country or some Australian teams as the press reports reveal, lets give the man his due credit who has stamped his mark on the history of the game.

Taking nothing away from Indian team and their well deserved victory, WELL DONE Gary Kirsten!!!

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Pakistan has never beaten India in the world cup cricket_ a hard and bitter bare fact and well yes a jinx maybe! But the history has to change its course somewhere. So what’s the harm if it takes a diversion on coming Wednesday?

Having remained invincible for so long against Pakistan adds to the vulnerability of the Indian team just as the Aussies came crashing down after a remarkable winning streak of thirty four matches to lose two successive games_ the last one sending them packing back home.

It is not just the statistics, though skewed heavily in favour of India, that make its victory improbable but the immense home ground pressure against arch rivals Pakistan coupled with its inconsistent performances. Whatever the outcome is going to be, nothing can be more electrifying than the mouth watering clash between India and Pakistan.

Having advanced to the semi finals, the game ensures representation of at least one team from the sub continent in the final thus continuing an intermittent pattern of regional supremacy. Both sides have obvious strengths and weaknesses that make the contest even and potentially highly interesting.

With an unending depth in its batting, India can perhaps boast of the most potent and annihilating batting arsenal the one day game has ever known. Batting first on any surface, the team can never be sure of ‘a potentially safe’ total if that happens to be setting a target for the Indians to chase. With the likes of Sehwag, Tendulkar, Yuvraj, Dhoni, Gambhir, Yousaf or Raina, the tormenting lineup on a home ground is capable of accomplishing any score that seems improbable. The only ray of hope is the vulnerability to collapse that the Indian middle and lower batting order has displayed time and again during the world cup.

India’s biggest weakness lies in its makeshift bowling attack_ an ordinary and average lineup that has been unable to defend humungous totals like 338 and 297 on its own pitches. If Pakistan has to win, it will definitely have to target a couple of weak links in the Indian bowling chain. How well will Pakistan cope without having a chance to acclimatize to the conditions and playing for the first time on Indian soil in nearly four years is anybody’s guess!?

In contrast, Pakistan’s main strength lies in its bowling resources. Traditionally known to enjoy supremacy in fast bowling faculty, the spin bowlers have been very effective so far in the tournament. This, in all likelihood, is the one clear edge that Pakistan has maintained over the rest of the teams and has been the main driving force behind the Pakistani victories. Talking of the game at hand, Shoaib’s appearance can be decisive even if there are some differences brewing up in the dressing room.

Averse to chase and batting in pressure situations, Pakistan’s best bet lies in getting a sizeable total and then restricting India by bowling on a cracking pitch. In case India bats first, restricting India to a chase able total can prove testing. Remember our batting has been tested only once by New Zealand and that was the match that we lost with a phenomenal margin.  

In the end what is most crucial are the nerves and the team that deals with the enormous pressure by staying calm and collective gives itself a fair chance to sail through.

And like I have been emphasising throughout the tournament, defying all logic and reason, nothing serves us better than our unpredictability. If qualifying by securing most points and climbing to the top of the pool and then storming to the semis in a mesmerising royal fashion was unpredictable, why not beating India and then cruising to penultimate victory in the finals!?

Go greens go! 

All the way!

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Another contribution by Mrs. Delirium

Driving through the main roads of any Metropolis, Billboards displaying the latest collection of the en vogue fabric of the season one is invariably stuck with the impression of beholding familiar countenances from across the border.  

Whilst those strongly objecting to the presence of Indian Icons on Pakistani billboards, and may have a point when they criticize the exuberant amounts spent on hiring them in endorsing their products, that have little or no appeal on the other side. 

Regardless of the protests these multinationals or textile giants as they are now called, are spending colossal amounts owing to the mass appeal they enjoy on this side of the divide, not withholding the ideological segregation dominant on the socio-political and the ideological fronts. The fact that these models cost four times as much as the local ones is no deterrence to their advertising budget. That they are employed repeatedly is testimony to their popularity that they are reaping the desired dividends. 

So where does that leave us ideologically speaking? 

Despite our leaders’ stance on India and on foreign cultures in general, with India-bashing remaining as their favourite pastime, the obsession of Pakistanis with Indian icons is a reality which cannot be ignored. The cultural similarities between the two countries and the constant didactic exchange between them is also a reality.

In the face of dearth of local movies to cater to the demands of the local population, Indian movies and channels have taken the local market by storm and have worn as far as the cultural front is concerned. The huge fan-following of the Indian Channels with our local ones emulating them in language and attire is not something of the distant past.

Is this representative of the dichotomy that exists within us as Pakistanis? The ideological confusion amongst us since the inception of this country. A fragment of the society shunning India and everything associated with it and another incorporating it into their daily lives. Not only as means of entertainment, but also as their idols.

With their music loudly blaring from our vehicles, our homes & mobiles, our weddings incomplete without having their dances choreographed to the minutest detail, are we constantly living in denial?

From our National policy of fuelling hatred towards them to our unadulterated fascination with them, do we as a nation need to wake up to the fact that we cannot survive isolate in an era of information revolution and war is NOT an option for our economically challenged, terror-stricken and internationally isolated country?

So while we need to retain our individual identity as nation and adhere to the basic principles that this nation was founded upon, we need to understand that culture is and ever-changing concept. And we need to celebrate the similarities in our language and heritage to exist as a harmonious whole.

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GetImage

A splendid piece of writing!

The book is gripping right from the word go. Laced with relentless scintillating humour and satire, Aravind Adiga pierces through the glossy crust and scum of democratic and shining India with ruthless impartiality and lethal audacity to bring to light the rotten core and bitter facade of an ailing third world society threadbare. The filth and garbage, sewage and waste, poverty and hunger, grime and smoke, corruption and pretence coupled with the irony of conventional belief systems and gods that engulf a typical third world nation have been emphatically unveiled. In a nutshell, a place where a water buffalo being productive ‘member’ of a family is far more valuable then a liability of an unwanted feeding mouth.

The story revolves around and covers the shrewd but cunning journey and transition of a downtrodden rural child to a successful entrepreneur from Munna to Balram Halwai and ultimately to Ashok Sharma.

During the course of this discovery and narrative, the author exposes what the democracy brings to and how is it interpretated by a common living man in India _ The contradictions that suffuse every pore of a class ridden and stratified social structure that lend all the inertia against any prospective change. Not just the gulf that divides the society in various castes and segments but the multiple religious, belief systems and creed silos that are prevalent.

Drawing an indirect comparison and alluding to it, on more than one occasion, the writer blames parliamentary democracy as a principal determinant that forces India to lag behind China. At the same time the mockery of socialist forces and Communist China are evident. He sees the parliamentary democracy system and the nexus that it invariably develops between the elite, feudals, landlords and the politicians and the police as the vice and protective barrier that shields and guards the status quo. As he goes

”Sir:

I am not a politician or a parliamentarian. Not one of those extraordinary men who can kill and move on, as if nothing had happened. It took me four weeks in Bangalore to calm my nerves.”

And

”I gather you yellow skinned men, despite your triumphs in sewage, drinking water, and Olympic gold medals, still don’t have democracy. Some politician on the radio was saying that’s why we Indians are going to beat you: we may not have sewage, drinking water, and Olympic gold medals, but we do have democracy.

If I were making a country, I’d get the sewage pipes first then the democracy, then I’d go about giving pamphlets and statues of Gandhi to other people, but what do I know? I’m just a murderer!”

While the line that hits the nail on the head follows

….parliamentary democracy, Father. We will never catch up with China for this single reason.”

The scribe uses an interesting analogy of the Rooster Coop to describe the element of the servitude and dichotomy of the system that divides the society into the elites and the masses. He compares a common man to a rooster who is being knocked around in a cramped space jostling and pecking for his survival in all that shit and stench. Watching his mates being slaughtered and their blood and innards lying here and there, he knows exactly what is in store for him but still does not rise to rebellion to question his ultimate fate. The following passage highlites the phenomenon thereby:

”A handful of men in this country have trained the remaining 99.9 percent – as strong, as talented, as intelligent in every way – to exist in perpetual servitude; a servitude so strong that you can put the key of his emancipation in a man’s hands and he will throw it back at you with a curse”

But not our white tiger, Balram Halwai. On the contrary, he accepts the key gratefully from his tender hearted master Ashok Sharma to mask his identity. As does his role model the bus conductor Vijay, who coming from a family of pig herds, illiterate and low caste, instinctively knows how to carve his way right to the top into the power echelons.
        
America returned Ashok is a misfit in the society. He cannot reconcile and come to terms with prevailing moral values, sprawling exploitation and filthy corruption that is rampant. Ashok finds himself at odds with the system. But relishing the intrinsic luxury of being a born landlord, that he is naturally entitled to, he prefers India as a living place. Oscillating between the rigid demands of his role in his family and social setup and the voice of his conscious, he is recognized as a weak link and a soft target by the observant and probing Balram standing on the far side of the abyss. Thus he is earmarked as a victim to unleash the simmering rage and angst, brewing for years, amidst all the communal tension and class disparity. Recognizing the possibility as perhaps his only opportunity to liberation and escape from the entrapment and rut that he is destined for, he murders his master and adopts his identity and makes away with a large sum of bribe money that was supposed to be paid to settle a case of tax evasion. The quantum leap lands Balram in the world of opportunity and entrepreneurship far from the grip and jaws of the vicious circle that had swallowed him for years. Nevertheless, there is a heavy price to be paid; A reality that is not lost on Balram turned Ashok. He knows what his family must’ve been through and chances of anyone’s survival even in the extended family are far-fetched.

While the story illuminates the stark and bare bone realities, nearly every heave and furrow along the contours of an ailing and diseased social setup, that is fast assuming the form of a dead corpse_ A fact predominantly true for most developing and underdeveloped economies across the global spectrum, there is a typical philosophical perspective to the whole episode. And that is…..

”Mr. Premier, I won’t be saying anything new if anything I say that the history of the world is the history of a ten-thousand-year war of brains between the rich and the poor. Each side is eternally trying to hoodwink the other side: and it has been this way since the start of time. The poor win a few battles (the peeing in the potted plants, the kicking of the pet dogs, etc.) but of course the rich have won the war for ten thousand years. That’s why, one day, some wise men, out of compassion for the poor, left them signs and symbols in poems, which appear to be about roses and pretty girls and things like that, but when understood correctly spill out secrets that allow the poorest man on earth to conclude the ten-thousand-year old brain-war on terms favourable to himself. Now, the four greatest of these wise poets were Rumi, Iqbal, Mirza Ghalib, and another fellow whose name I was told but have forgotten.”

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