Book Review- White Tiger

Everything in India, according to Aravind Adiga, the book’s author(or Balram Halwai, if you insist on technicalities) is absolutely nothing but a big, fucking joke. The story revolves around the aforementioned Balram Halwai, who moves from the village-The Darkness- into Delhi- The Light, to become a driver. Back in the village, he was taken out of school so he could work and pay off his sister’s dowry, which the groom’s parents “screwed the family” for.

 

Moving to the city, he learns a lot by listening to snippets of conversations of his masters, buys rich man clothes so he can enter a mall, “dips his beak” into a call girl and does many other things which only big, bad city boys do. Ultimately however, being the ‘first-gear’ man that he is, he gets sick of being a servant. The story takes a new turn, with Balram acquiring dreams of killing his master and being his own master. In the end, he does, and moves to Bangalore to become an entrepreneur. Don’t curse me for ruining it for you, because I didn’t, really. The storyline is more or less predictable and Balram Halwai is one of the most sluggish protagonists I’ve ever come across, at least for someone who’s supposed to be a White Tiger.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, I think the book is written wonderfully. In more than a few instances, one cannot help but chuckle at the sheer simplicity, yet somehow mixed with satire, of Balram’s words. His observations of daily life are presented in a macabre but very entertaining way. It really gets readers thinking about what a messed up country we live in.

 

If Gregory David Roberts’ Shantaram managed to ooze optimism out of every dark little Indian corner, Aravind Adiga does just the opposite. He criticizes pretty much everything, from how village women look, to how city women dress, to politicians to landlords to his own grandmother. No wonder Balram Halwai become a murderer, as his character seems to be exceptionally full of hate.

 

White Tiger is an enjoyable read, albeit extremely dark. Read it if you enjoy subtle humour, akin to that of Mark Haddon or the Adrian Mole series. Laugh at the atrocities of the Indian system(be it family, parliamentary democracy, marriage, schooling, ANYTHING!) but beware- this book has the uncanny ability to suck you in, although you might hate every bit of reading about India’s Rotten Heart.

All in all,read it only for the gruesome interpretation of India “shining” But to think this book won The Man Booker Prize- What A Fucking Joke.

Dear Terrorist, I hope you're happy

Those last few days of November 2008 was a nightmare for Mumbaikars, and for all of us with a heart. Watching the fire engulf something as beautiful as the Taj, watching Oberoi massacred, innocent Jews at the Nariman House killed... I think a little part of me died along with the countless victims of that wretched attack. Cafe Leopold, which I extensively read about in Greogory David Roberts' Shantaram was attacked too. Though I've personally never been to Mumbai, there was something so inhuman about these attacks that it very, very deeply wounded me. Maybe it's giving in to precisely what the terrorists wanted, but honestly- we don't have a choice but to be hurt. People are entering 5 star hotels and attacking us, what next? Personal Terrorist Service? Crazed, brainwashed sadists entering our homes just to kill us? This is absolutely not done.

Here is a little piece I wrote for all the terrorists who died while killing.

You got your hand grenades
A heart full of devastating hate
You gun us down and kill yourself
I hope you're happy..

You subdued the city of dreams
Changed our hopes into shattered screams
You made us cry with our backs to the wall
I hope you're happy...

You killed our men of guts and skill
Caused havoc with blood curdling ill will
And now you lie with blood in your eyes
I hope you're happy...

You had a nation under your heel
Made us numb, made us cry, made us feel
Now you're bodies are blown apart
I hope you're happy...

Also, my heartfelt regards to the following people:

1) The NSG commandos. True heroes. I salute

2) The Mumbai police.

3) NDTV staff. Especially Srinivasan Jain. For the excellent coverage even though your eyes were drooping with lack of sleep for over 50 hours. 

Join Me, Love

Those auburn eyes speak fathoms deep
With dark circles yelling "you need some sleep"
They speak of the day it's all going to end
Of the dreadful day it's all going to end

Its one of those days when life takes a turn
When those walls you've built just crash and burn
There's nothing you can do, there's nothing to do
And when this day comes, love, I'll be there for you

When your throat is dry though you've quenched your thirst
And the red heart balloons go pop-they burst
Confetti flies and it slaps you in the face
The irony- Like a rose on a mace.

The scab falls off but the wound still bleeds
Its finally time to pull out the weeds
And all you have left is barren land
I'll stand by you, love, I'll hold your hand

There's nothing left to want anymore
You keep running when you know you're sore
And her very memory is agony
But guilt consumes, when you think of me

I remember the day you watched me leave
There were no tears, I saw you grieve
But now I see your pain, from a place high above
I forgive you, come join me, love.

Umm.. its a poem about a dead woman singing to the guy who broke her heart?

blink 182. The love. <3

Back when I  was a 13 year old girl desperately looking for an "identity"(that word haunted me a lot back then), I stumbled upon this band called blink 182. Now I was into stuff like Avril,the Fall Out Boy songs that made it to "40 on 40" on Worldspace,Green Day and stuff like that. I hear What's My Age again by blink at that point of time and go, chee! what a bunch of juvenile idiots!

Little did I know, my dear friends, that what was to follow completely disproves(is that a word?) the fact that first impressions count. Because my first impression of this band is completely inconsequential.
The second song I listened to was Dammit, an old song back from when they were an underground indie rock band. For some reason, this rough-around-the-edges song about a teen break up.... connected. The refrain of the song "I guess this is growing up" completely held my attention and I ended up listening to that song. Over and over again. OVER AND OVER! [trivia: It's the most played song on my iPod till date]

There began the journey that has lasted 2 and a half years.... and counting. The first album of theirs I owned was Enema Of The State, which I copied from the iPod of a cousin. Every single song, from Wendy Clear to Dysentry Gary to Don't Leave me completely had me hooked. Then I went on to download the rest of their albums... and today, I can proudly and honestly say that they are my best friends. Along with the CGC gang. Don't ask what the CGC Gang is. It's not a band btw :P

To get a taste of what blink 182 is really like, allow me to post a few random lines of theirs that define the band to me:

"

I said "Don't let your future be destroyed by my past"

She said "Don't let my door hit your ass"

- Don't Leave Me, Enema Of The State

"Hello there, the angel from my nightmare"

-I Miss You, Untitled

"Then later on, on the drive home 

I called her mom from a pay phone 

I said I was the cops 

And your husbands in jail 

This state looks down on sodomy "

- What's My Age Again, Enema Of The State

"She makes me feel like it's raining outside

And when the storm's gone i'm all torn up inside"

-Please Take Me Home, Take Off Your Pants And Jacket

"Am I am not fine

Last night I saw you online

Your screen name used to be mine

Why can't we just pretend?"

- Online Songs, Take Off Your Pants And Jacket

Fate fell short this time

Your smile fades in the summer

Place your hand in mine

I'll leave when I wanna

- Always, Untitled

As you can see, the lyrics range from the profound to the insanely silly. And that is what I love. In fact, that is what I am! :)

Voice Of The Depressed

I can't change the blood in my veins
Held tight by hierarchal reigns
Can't change the colour of my skin
Can't change this world that I live in

Can't change my home which is the street
Can't change my filthy, worn out feet
Can't change those dirty looks I get
Can't change, and I cannot forget.

Can't give my kids a better day
Some things are meant to be this way
Can't watch them grow their wings and fly
If I can, I'll have to live a lie

Can't give my wife a golden chain
Can't tend my fire in the rain
I'm poor, a man without a guide
I'm Alive- Can I say that much with pride?

Goan Soujourn!

Sea shells, necklaces, everything sold
Ice cream, soda and everything cold
Sunscreen, straw hats to ward off the heat
As we run in with open arms, Goa we meet.

Warm, salty water burns our eyes
As the sun blares down from the clear blue skies
Black beads, red top, folded up pants
As I frolic, merrily, in the white sands.

Mermaids, speed boats to add to the fun
Fall in the sea once and we're done
Crashing waves arrive to tickle out feet
As we run with open arms, Goa we meet.

Sweet City O' Mine

Land of comps, this IT city
Home to geeks and technology
Cosmopolitan to the core
Living here is never a bore

The airport miles and miles away
Citizens complain every day
City roads? An eye sore
But living here is never a bore

No good buses-we hitch a ride
To grab a golgappa from the road side
Living here might be a chore
But living here is never a bore

Lalbagh, Cubbon Park, The Forum Mall
Buildings plenty, buildings tall
We've got no desert, no sea shore
But Bangalore-NEVER a bore!!

Blinded By Thoughts

Face laced with grace, and pure white hair

She rocks back and forth on her rocking chair

Creak Creak goes the joints, of her knee and elbow

As her thoughts cross reality, by the window

Her life has had hardships, oh more than fair share

Who knows of the malice behind her glare

Each face, each falter is a brand new trail

Imaginary Sub Plot, Imaginary Tale

Each word from the lips of those who care

Is turned from mundane to illicit affair

Her sons and daughters and lovely grandchild

Are turned into traitors, as her thoughts run wild.

Blinded by fantasy, shielded by fear

Self created both, which costs her dear

She knows not the truth, but makes her own

In her silent suffering, as she sits all alone.

The Other Side

They've lived through the bad times

Dont know the good

And do anything to place on

The table, some food

They've seen their kids die

Of hunger that clawed

It claws on their heartstrings

They search for a God

Theve seen their wives cry

Over labour's pain

As they groaned and they greived

In open, as it rained

And the roam the streets

They have nothing left

Identity or money

Theyre completely bereft.

Where is the mercy?

The goodness of will?

Why are the people's

Intentions so ill?

Where is the proverbial

Touch of the Divine?

How long can they wait

For things to fall in line?

Our eyes are all open

And yet we look on

Hoping these people

Will see a new dawn

Our limbs are all working

And yet we sit still

Fretting over dinner

And the electricity bill..

Beginning Of The End

The end is coming, the end is near

'Tis on the horizon, but do not fear

For the End, is not an ending at all

'Tis a brand new beginning, encompassing all

The sky is falling, or so does it seem

"The eye is a trickster, 'tis only a dream!"

The entire world, engulfed by fire

The evil smoke rising, higher and higher

It destroys your spirit, it tears your soul

It breaks down your guard, engulfs your whole

Skeptically distrusting, you rub at your eyes

Your eyes tell the truth, the eye never lies

The ground is breaking, forming new cracks

The world comes apart,for everything you lack

You see it in the eyes of your fellow being

But refuse to believe what you're really seeing

The ending will come, for its here and its near

'Tis right on the horizon, but you need not fear

The End is, you realize, not an ending at all

'Tis a brand new beginning, encompassing all. 

Hope I Can Sleep Tonight

Mistakes have been forgotten

And lessons have been learned

Memories are buried deep

While others have been burned

I made it through the day

And I made it through the night

I made it through the darkness

Now I hope I can see light.

The tears have been shed

And the words have been said

I wanna close my eyes now 

And sleep like im dead

I hope I can sleep tonight x4

My wounds are still fresh

From when I chased after the stars

While they'll never come to me

I'll always have the scars

A long day has been ended

Ive grown up so much more

Ive learned the little tidbits

Now I'm tired and sore

My eyes are drifting close

And darkness' what I see

Tomorrow is a new day

I hope I'll still be me.

I hope I can sleep tonightx4 

Blackbird

There was a city, as I was told

Dirty, musty, dusty, old

Over which a blackbird flew

About the bird, that no one knew.

When they looked up, they saw her wings

Pitch black, like dangerous, menacing things

If they observed, they saw her eyes

Which somehow seemed to reflect their lies.

The people kept out of her sight

And dared step out only at night

So the dark would hide her wings so black

And her eyes wont blare the things they lack

Humans they, they made mistakes

But when they hid from Blackbird's wake

With their untruths, her fury grew

And along with anger, her Black wings, too.

But ignorant beings lived on, and lied

"Oh the Bird's not seen at night!"

So they stole, murdered, burned and buried

There was no Blackbird to keep them worried

The BlackBird's fury, became more and more

As she grew bigger than ever before

She eyed the people, eyed the town

When it got too much, she came down.

A glance of the eye was all that they saw

Pain seered through, a pain that was raw

But the pain was bodily, 'twas inside their head

The Blackbird avenged-they dropped down, dead.

So I was told, there's a lesson to be learned

Mistakes to be faced, pages to be turned

And then I was told 'Now remember my word'

'Before you lie, just eye the blackbird.'