Thursday, January 20, 2011
A swirling vortex......
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Blur
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Darkness.......
Saturday, February 6, 2010
This is Freedom of Press?
Journalism:- The occupation of reporting, writing, editing, photographing, or broadcasting news or of conducting any news organization as a BUSINESS.
This is a country where truth counts for nothing anymore. This is one of those countries where no-one knows what really happened, where journalists who shed tears win awards, where opinions are treated as final word, where the media is a primetime soap opera. We live in a society, biased and opinionated, where the media is the new law. Broadcasting sentiments, it is simply a new way for television to lease advertising space. If we live in a society that is truly by the people, for the people and of the people, let the people decide for themselves what to ascertain from the facts. Is it possible that freedom of press is going too far? When the press endanger lives, invade privacy, form sentiments based on which side they support? How can we even decide anymore what’s right and what’s wrong? When we live in a hypocritical society that is “free” and is still spoon-fed opinions by “leading news channels”? Do we really need this anymore? It’s all just a business, run by corporates only hoping to get trp’s, making us live in this zeitgeist. India, and all the other countries in the world, wake up! This is the information age, this is an age where some goon sitting in the USA knows when a Chinese guy’s searching for tank man, relays it to china who promptly make him disappear to work in a paddy field for the government. This is an age where terrorists from “Third world nations” can access technology, get a map of Washington DC and blow it up. Do we really need this anymore? Do we need media moguls governing our actions? If this is a democracy, where am I? A small plea to every budding journalist out there. You’re job is simple, relay facts, let people decide for themselves. We’re sick of sensationalization, of suicide cases of 15 years ago, of journalists giving commentary of anti-terror operations and endangering lives. We’re sick of all of you messing with our lives, our privacy and our sense to deduce things. We don’t want you to try to rule our lives, we don’t want you to tell us that Sania Mirza’s engagement was broken off in the headlines of the newspaper. We want to know the news, not the drama of the lives of people that actually have them. To every anti-communist that exists in the world, congratulations, you’ve just woken up to your worst nightmare. This time, it isn’t Mao, Che or the CPIM. Welcome to the media!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Ah, the hypocracy of democracy...
Sunday, January 3, 2010
I am "The Procrastinator"
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Farewell.
Two days ago, i suffered the biggest loss of my life. I had lost someone to me that was a protector, a friend and a part of the family. I still remember the glee with which 13 summers ago i saw her, a mere puppy of 5 months, as black as soot and quivering with fear at her new surroundings. Never once will I forget the words of my mother, "Look under the sofa.". And so it began, a closeness that will never ever be lost. At first sight, i fell in love, with those big brown expressive eyes of hers. The way she used to express her love for all us, and a love as unconditional as any mother can give her child, a love untainted by the impurities of the outside world, one free from corruption and evil. She simultaneously in one life-time acted as my sister and mother. In her early years, combatting for my mom's attention with me, it was almost like a kind of sibling rivalry. Slowly, as dogs always do, she started to age much quicker than me and eventually considered me like a son. She used to actually try to protect me from the servant when she used to sweep the room when i was sleeping in. The family itself went through many changes. One change that affected her the most was the arrival of the car. Her special treat used to be a ride in the car. The way her eyes used to light up at the mention of the word "Chengala" (malayalam word for leash), and following which she used to run after my dad to work her magic with those expecting eyes. She had her share of mischief in her as well, while earlier, she took a particular liking to shoes, plastic covers and enjoyed "marking her territory" in places she knew I'd step on. Later on, she took to turning the dustbing over and eating chicken bones, which were actually bad for her. It's funny how on my last trip home, she started living out a second childhood because i remember at least 2 instances where I stepped into..... Never mind. One of the biggest regrets, i think, of her life was that she could never have any pups. She used to sometimes climb into dark corners as though pretending that she was going to give birth. She would have made a fantastic mother i'm sure, the way she used to try to take care of me was enough proof of that. She died two days ago, from an un-known sickness after 3 hours of excruciating pain. Because i'm in hostel right now, I don't think the enormity of her death, nor the void that it has created in my home can be understood quite fully yet, but it has affected me deeply enough to write this blog post, the only one that really means something to me. This is to you Tinku, farewell.