Race : An Inspiration

The movie began with the introduction of the lead characters of the movie…
There was dashing Saif who was sporting suave pair of shades throughout the movie…I think the effort made by Saif to hide behind those oversize sunglasses paid off, it did hide his squint.
Then there was Akshay Khanna…who played the part of scheming, alcoholic evil brother with a hipflask glued constantly to his hip pocket. His lines were predictable, even the jokes he was made to say were insipid! After sitting and reading so many email forwards all day…I knew each and every joke made by Akshay Khanna!
Bipasha played the part of an eye-candy perfectly.Also she was trying her best to help the producer of the movie with her skimpy wardrobe…Atleast the cost on fabrics must have drastically reduced!
Katrina could have sported blond hair…that was the only thing lacking for completing her dumb blond image.
Sameera Reddy was as always, dumb as ever playing Anil Kapoor’s side-kick. I think a category just below the blond-bimbette must be named “Sameera Reddy” inorder to honour her pea-sized brain.
The only positive thing the movie had to offer was Anil Kapoor and Atif Aslam’s song.

The movie is set in Durban, SA. I know that SA has a lot of Indian population but that doesn’t mean that everybody who is involved with the characters is an Indian and speaks chaste Hindi! The stunts in the movie were awesome…gravity-defying. At one point of time I was convinced that the movie was a science fiction. There are million twists and turns in the plot, one at every second. It will give Fredric Forsyth a run for money on that front(I mean inducing twists and turns in the plot…no offence meant for Fredrick Forsyth).The plot is utterly ridiculous to the core. It doesn’t connect with the viewer. Somehow the movie lacked the skill to set the audience’s pulse racing.

Anyways, all said and done Race was an inspiration for me.
It inspired me to write this review without even getting paid for it.

Auguries of Innocence

The following poem is my favourite simply because it touches my heart every time I read it. The beauty lies in its simplicity. William Blake has awesome vision...I love his work thoroughly!


Auguries of Innocence
By William Blake

To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell through all its regions.
A dog starved at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
He who the ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by woman loved.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands,
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright
And returned to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes Revenge! in realms of death.
The beggar's rags fluttering in air
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier armed with sword and gun
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mocked in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
A riddle or the cricket's cry
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

Trying to Buy the World

When you are 22 and have just got a job, your mind is burgeoning with schemes of buying the world with the handful of money you have. I started out with buying a guitar or at least I thought I will make a start by buying a guitar. Also, it was a step towards full-filling my life-long ambition of mastering a musical instrument. The closest that I have got in producing a “musical melody” is honking the horn of my two-wheeler for atleast two minutes (I think this will be appreciated by modernist futurism music advocates :P) for shooing away a herd of goats that once crossed my path. The musician in me was successful in captivating the audience as they stood there in a trance chewing cud. Later I had to call a boy playing nearby to do the honour of shooing them away.
So there I was last Sunday visiting shops in Pune trying to increase the list of my possessions, which by the way includes an old but handsome navy-blue coloured paper bag having a huge golden embossing of the emblem of Indian Air Force. (You-know-who, if you are reading this then kindly note that now the bag is mine and you are not getting it back.) So, anyway coming back on the track I began inspecting various semi-electric guitars with a I-was-born-with-a-guitar-in-my-hand kind of a look. My mind was teeming with questions, so I asked the attendant that why was “this” thing protruding from the base of the guitar? At this my bro turned to me and gave me a blend of please-don’t-ask-what-the-strings-are-for and I-don’t-know-this-creature kind of a look. As it turned out “this” thing is called a pickup of the guitar. So before I asked another question, we were out of the shop and heading to a different shop. After reaching there, I had Eric-Clapton-can-play-better-than-me-so-what-? kind of a look. Judging that my expression had become an inch demure than before, I think my bro didn’t mind me asking another question. This time I played it safe by asking about the price of the instrument. Looking back now I think the attendant was convinced that I did play guitar professionally. I believe my "look" and the fact that I was silent throughout did it. My mission of buying the world encountered a glitch when I had to postpone the acquisition of guitar indefinitely.
Finally, today I decided to download guitar tabs for every Pink Floyd song. I got this file ‘Pink Floyd-Guitar Tab Anthology (Guitar Songbook).rar’…I was already in my day-dreaming mode and was strumming a guitar along David Gilmour at a concert when my reveries were interrupted as I tried to open the file…It was password protected. So, if anybody reading this has the password to it please pass it on to me so that I can Dream On uninterrupted. But this time I think I will give Aerosmith a chance to play along with me ;)

Feelin' Groovy

Naming my blog was one of the hardest things that I have done. (Duh!)
Well, I am descending to a cliché here, but that’s how my “hard toil” ;-) fits into words.

After lot of pondering I decided to name it “Feelin' Groovy :-)”. ..Couldn’t help it actually...I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel while I was choosing my probable ‘display name’. I think I can safely blame Simon and Garfunkel for making me believe that I was feeling groovy :-P.

Anyways, the song ended after 1min. 23 sec. and so did my groovy feeling. After signing up, I thought ‘Always quirky ;-)’ would have done justice…I think I am 66% quirky (that amounts to distinction grade) …that’s quirky enough…which means that I am pretty quirky but normal enough to hide the fact that I am quirky.

Coming to the point, me "Feelin' Groovy"?!
By and large I think the people who know me will totally vouch for the fact that I can be counted among the most “ungrooviest” people in the world. But that’s why music is here for…It made me feel groovy for for precisely 1min. 23 sec. :-P …Enjoy this video.