Hello, we're talking about...

You know that annoying time of day when you're watching A Bit of Fry and Laurie, but you can't get a fiendish medley of the theme from Mind Your Language, bits of Swan Lake, and Never Smile at a Crocodile out of your head? No? Well, I can't say I'm disappointed for you.

And here's the whole of Disney's Peter Pan, just for the heck of it.

 

Cockney and Ballet...

So 'ere I sit, after writin' the chuffin' dickie birds 'temporal' and 'eternal' 'baht a 'undred times in me essay on ode on a grecian urn in me literature Green, and jammin' ter 'Solidarity' from Billy Elliot (and also tryin' ter figure aahhht 'a the bloomin' musical is 'excellent for students and children', after 'earin' the lines "you think yer smart ya cockney shite, ya wanna be suspicious? When ya were on the picket line, we went and fucked yer missus" in the song). Elton john may be a right pretentious thr'penny bit, but 'e Bobby can tickle and bite the Mae West musicals. 
Watch Billy Elliot at the Victoria Palace Theatre in London? Goin' on the Mrs Duckett list, along wif Caine's 'rcade and Burnin' Man fer Bobby. 

Yup, that was Cockney. I'm bored. 
Apparently Cockney rhyming slang was invented so that the coppers wouldn't be able to understand what the criminals were saying, which is why it finally makes sense to me. I mean, who in their right mind would call feet 'plates'? Or heads 'loaves of bread'? But, then again, I don't think anyone who speaks Cockney today is in their right mind. 

Okay wait, was that not good? Rewind, rewind, rewind...Right, let's start over.

In recent weeks, I have suddenly developed and intense fascination for ballet, hence the Billy Elliot stuff. Also, we were discussing Nadsat a while back, and the subject of Cockney rhyming slang came up. QED.

Just wanted to make the update. I need to write more on this blog.
Oh, my earphones went bust again. These ones. Less than a year this time. Wow. So I'm stuck without music-on-the-go. Not that I'll be going places during the exam, but still...

Resolution...

It has just occurred to me that I have been on this earth for nearly two decades. Eighteen years- that's a long time. And although I have done and seen so much, it feels like I've simply wasted what is probably going to be the best period of my life, for until the end of this stage, I have been getting stronger, getting smarter, learning and learning more, being in a constant state of growth- both physical and mental. Live fast, love hard, die young- that has never made sense to me, and although it still doesn't quite resonate, I'm beginning to sympathise with what it stands for much more. It would honestly be much worthier to have a short, but productive, life, than to have a long one full of unfulfilled ambitions and dreams that cannot become reality because we have grown to weak and tired to work at them. To get out while the going's good and to be remembered for generations, or to keep on going well past your prime, like Michael Schumacher, until you disappear into nothingness and insignificance? I must admit, this is a terribly biased view, but one that has seen enough proof to not seem an impossible fate.

Of course, it remains to be seen if I will even live a life of significance, at all- one worth remembering. I had promised myself, long ago, too far back for me to care to remember, that I would leave a mark. When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, thought the choice of actual profession would constantly chance, I would always reply "famous". No, not famous enough to be bombarded with paparazzi every time I stepped out to buy the groceries, just that right amount of fame for people to have heard my name, and for a few strangers to recognise me when I would be walking my dog, or dropping or picking up my kids from school. The right balance of fame and anonymity that would entitle me to the benefits of a good life without any of the cons of celebrity life.

Times change, of course, and with them, dreams. I am perfectly comfortable with the reality that I may not be famous (in fact, I'm almost thankful). But living a life of worth? Doing the things I want to? That can never change, for anybody. I swore to myself that, as soon as I could, I would leave this place that I've been living in since I was born. I don't have anything against it. I love Bangalore in all its splendour and quirkiness. I am particularly fond of Indian culture, particularly cuisine. I just can't imagine myself living here as an adult, or raising a family here. It just seems too been-there-done-that, barring, of course, places like Auroville. I swore to myself that I would get up and run away from the sedentary lifestyle that I'm living. The only problem is, I swore that I would be independent by the time I was eighteen. My eighteenth birthday has come and past, and it's almost concrete now that I'll be living this life for the next three or four years as well. Every plan that I make seems to be for "after school", and now, "after college". What next? "After I get a good job?" "After I make enough money?" I don't think I'll ever get out that way. I can almost see it: "We'll go to England after we get married, Sir Walten.", "The Amazon? We can't possibly spend the year in that horrid place!". And soon, I'll be just another old man complaining about the traffic, and how much of a workload the kids have at their regular city school.

I CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN. I will literally have to fight the urge to kill myself.  I have to get out of the goddamn loop. Everyone keeps telling me how dangerous that would be. How, if I did that, there would be absolutely no chance for me to get what I want. I don't resent their opinions, but they are their opinions. There's nothing wrong with what they think, but that doesn't mean I need to think in exactly the same way. "You'll be a dropout! Can you even imagine that?!" they say. Truth is, I can't. But what is wrong about being a dropout? No, I don't want to drop out, I wan't to be well educated. But, in recent years, I have come to realise that that is probably a weakness. The fact that I'd be shunned by most of society, is a fear, and fear isn't healthy. Neither is being a pawn of the whims of society, which, sadly, I am. What's even sadder, is that in the twenty-first century, not being a pawn of society means not being able to really live at all. Woodstock and hippies are long gone. Being independent from society means being worthless.

I could go on for ages, without really reaching any conclusions.
For now, all I can do is hope and pray that one day, I will be able to stand up and say "Fuck it". Until then, I am just going to try and make my life worth living.

I'm off now, to compile a list of all the things I want to do before I'm twenty.

A Ridiculously long Time...

Good grief. Last post: 15th August, 2012.
That's rather a long while.

It isn't as if nothing blog-worthy has happened since then. Concerts, Sports Days, exams, CHRISTMAS for crying out loud. In a nutshell, everything that has ever been fully blog-worthy in my life has finally passed, and I haven't written a single thing since August. And that isn't even a proper post.

Just to keep up to date, I finally watched 'The Hobbit' on Christmas Eve. Nine years, I have waited. No kidding. And I wan't disappointed. Critics may be hammering the daylights out of Jackson's latest franchise, but, to be very blunt, who cares? I don't. For one, just returning to Middle-Earth on the big screen is something I've been waiting for for half my life. Sure, as far as CGI and the action sequences went, it was a tad over-the-top, but that too for a LOTR prequel. Compared to all the horrors that have come out since 'Fellowship' in the name of a renewed fantasy film market, 'The Hobbit' hardly counts as over-the-top. I would have preferred it if the dwarves didn't just fall into crevices in caves and miraculously recover unharmed a la 'Pirates of the Caribbean', but it did nothing to damage the sheer elation that was the rest of the film. And the 48 fps? well, excuse me, but I liked it.

On another note, it turns out that my blog has had more page-views from Australia than India. Thanks, Spandu, for helping me go international.

Behold...

Words don't do justice to this. I always thought so, and I was right...

Actually, Asa looks more like Sherlock here than Benedict.

Biological Reflection

A girl whose cheeks are covered with paint
Has an advantage with me over one whose ain't.

-Ogden Nash

This fellow's a genius, I tell you.
Take this, for example:

A Caution To Everybody

Consider the auk;
Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.
Consider man, who may well become extinct
Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.

 

Or this:

 

Bankers Are Just Like Anybody Else, Except Richer

This is a song to celebrate banks,
Because they are full of money and you go into them and all
you hear is clinks and clanks,
Or maybe a sound like the wind in the trees on the hills,
Which is the rustling of the thousand dollar bills.
Most bankers dwell in marble halls,
Which they get to dwell in because they encourage deposits
and discourage withdrawals,
And particularly because they all observe one rule which woe
betides the banker who fails to heed it,
Which is you must never lend any money to anybody unless
they don't need it.
I know you, you cautious conservative banks!
If people are worried about their rent it is your duty to deny
them the loan of one nickel, yes, even one copper engraving
of the martyred son of the late Nancy Hanks;
Yes, if they request fifty dollars to pay for a baby you must
look at them like Tarzan looking at an uppity ape in the
jungle,
And tell them what do they think a bank is, anyhow, they had
better go get the money from their wife's aunt or ungle.
But suppose people come in and they have a million and they
want another million to pile on top of it,
Why, you brim with the milk of human kindness and you
urge them to accept every drop of it,
And you lend them the million so then they have two million
and this gives them the idea that they would be better off
with four,
So they already have two million as security so you have no
hesitation in lending them two more,
And all the vice-presidents nod their heads in rhythm,
And the only question asked is do the borrowers want the
money sent or do they want to take it withm.
Because I think they deserve our appreciation and thanks,
the jackasses who go around saying that health and happi-
ness are everything and money isn't essential,
Because as soon as they have to borrow some unimportant
money to maintain their health and happiness they starve
to death so they can't go around any more sneering at good
old money, which is nothing short of providential.

 

In one of those moods again...

I follow the Moskva

Down to Gorky Park

Listening to the wind of change.

No matter how many times I listen to the song- even if I listen to it over and over- I still feel the same feelings. The sadness and the desperation of a world torn apart. The dreams and beliefs of a section of humanity that simply doesn't want to fight any more. The vigourous dream that maybe, just maybe, things will change- that, one day, we will all stand together, dump all our money on Wall Street, and usher in a new age of peace and freedom.

That dream seems unlikely, but maybe, just maybe...