REAL(?)ity SHOWS
How far does the ‘Real’ quotient hold good?


Reality shows have perpetually been popular and since the last few years, a number of reality shows have come up, prominent ones being Indian Idol and Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, the American idol, etc . New age reality shows bring in staggering amounts of ratings by placing people in intimidating circumstances. Lot of laughs can be generated from installments of comical segments. Interest in the show by the viewers is sustained by showing the behind-the-scenes- activities of the participants. As mentioned afore, how far does the ‘real’ quotient hold good?

Majority of these shows emphatically state that they solely aim at ‘bringing out the best people in the country and unleashing their talent in the respective fields.’ How far is this true? Of late, these shows have been focusing chiefly on bringing up the TRP ratings rather than on their professed aim. This can be elucidated through the popular show Indian idol aired on Sony twice a week, hosted by Hussein and Chang, the latter being a contestant in the previous season of Indian idol and judged by Anu Mallik, Javed Akhtar, Kailash Kher and Sonali Bendre.

The show starts off with the contestants doing their act and the judges either unanimously stating that he or she is the best or fighting tooth and nail with conflicting decisions. Having seen this season of Indian Idol so far, one can note that Sonali Bendre, right from the start of the show has been rooting for a girl winner. At any given point of time, she can be seen openly supporting the female contestants over the males. Well, it isn’t a bad thing. After all, it would definitely do some good for a girl to win the Indian Idol after three seasons of guys winning it. But do they deserve it?? The last episode’s verdict has shocked many keen viewers of the show . The contestants who form the Top 3 are Sourabhee Deb Verma, Torsha Sarkar and Kapil Thapa .The shocking part is that Rajdeep Chatterjee, the ever smiling 17 year old from Kolkatta has been eliminated. On following the show right from the commencement of the season, it is obvious that Rajdeep, despite being the youngest is one of the most competent contestants on the show. Indeed, he can belt out songs from any genre. Be it a melody of Rafi’s or one of the current day numbers, this boy can sing it flawlessly, mellifluously and carry off his performance with great élan. He has neither compromised on his performance nor on his singing. The same can be said of some of the other contestants like Prasenjit , Bhavya and Shini, all of whom have been eliminated from the show. Few can forget the heartfelt rendering of Ajahun Aaye Balamaa by Prasenjit which gained him an entry into the galas with a wild card or 17 year old Bhavya’s beautiful rendering of nigahen milaneko jee chahta hai which warmed the hearts of the audience. Or so it was thought. Alas, both were prematurely eliminated in the same fashion. We are now left with Torsha, Sourabhee and Kapil as the Top 3 contestants. It can very truthfully be said that contestants like Bhavya, Shini, Rajdeep and Prasenjit can sing what Kapil, Torsha and Sourabhee can , however, undeniably, it cannot happen the other way around.

The focus of this article is mainly on Indian idol 4, but, same is the case with other reality shows like Sa Re Ga Ma Pa where talented Kaushik Deshpande, Naina Saxsena and Debojit Dutta were eliminated and the likes of Asma Mohammad Rafi stayed on.

Promotional events, advertising, behind the scenes activities, the fierce competition combined with the camaraderie between the contestants, their efforts, the reactions of the judges, the talent of the contestants etc have all been shown and yet, at the close of the day, the best doesn’t make it. It is heartbreaking to see the actual talent being underplayed.

Is it the maker’s fault or is it just that the audience is tone deaf? Is it because the less deserving singers make up for their lack of singing by dancing and performance or is it because the really good ones are not liked . Is the voting just messed up or completely rigged up?




One may never know…….

TO CLEAN OR NOT TO CLEAN.....

‘’Impossible is nothing, nothing is impossible.’’ Whoever said that wasn’t really thinking straight or, they weren’t thinking at all. In all probability, the rate of thought process would have been below 0.5% to say the least. If there is one thing that is impossible, it is cleaning my room. Let me make things clearer- it is impossible for ME to clean MY room.
Many moms all over the world , after reading this would probably gnash their teeth and mutter in disgust, cursing me and dubbing me as the Grinch who stole the joys of cleaning. Oh well, the world is after all made up of many Don Quixotes.

To begin with, I'm very, very, very lazy (read indolent, lackadaisical, apathetic, don‘t-carish,)when it comes to cleaning. I really don’t care if I’m submerged by my books or clothes. In fact, only in this messy state does my room ever give me the feeling of being ’my room.’ Most normal kids would clean their room everyday or once in awhile because of that driving force called MOM . Some others, strange weirdos that they are, are clean freaks themselves and cannot sleep a wink if their room resembles a tornado-cum-earthquake hit area.

Mom indefatigably goes on about how I should tidy up messes as and when I make them and as far as possible, try not to make them at all. Alas and alack, that piece of counsel mulishly refuses to stay put in my head. However, miracles never cease, and once in a blue moon, I find myself surrendering to my mom’s entreaties (or are they coercions camouflaged as patient entreaties ? :P ) and decide very virtuously to clean my room. I assume the air of a warrior bravely approaching the deadly battlefield as I enter my room.

Cleaning my room is a Herculean task to me, which explicates why, I so wisely dedicated my life to not cleaning it in all these 18 years. Cleaning my room would mean tidying every nook and corner and no-leaving-the-corners-unclean crap. This means I have to follow the adage ‘ A place for everything and everything in its place.‘ Sounds easy?? IT IS NOT. When you have a zillion things out of place, you don't really know what or where that right place is!!!!


Now, the task entails me picking up an arbitrary article in my room and finding its correct place. Then I realize that it is not going to work, so, I embark on my mission of torture by cleaning out my clothes and book cupboards. I throw all the clothes carelessly onto the floor and place my precious books on the bed. Half heartedly, I start folding the clothes when I unearth a book that I haven’t read in ages. I steal a quick glance at the clock. I’ve been working hard at folding my clothes for the last five minutes and allow myself a well deserved (?) break. I pick up the book and promise myself that after the first chapter I shall resume folding my wretched clothes. Before I realize it, one and a half hours have passed and I have officially cleaned my room for five minutes consistently. I hastily push all the other things into place haphazardly and get to making the room look fallaciously tidy to save myself from further admonitions . Over the years however, I have come to realize, that this is not the best of ideas , especially considering the fact that my mom (like every other mom in this world) has a pair of eyes that could put a hawk to shame.


"Why is this book lying here?"

"Make space for your college books here and put the other books elsewhere.’’

"You missed a spot - not that spot, this one here.’’

‘’ Clean your room on a daily basis and do both of us a favor.’’

‘’Don’t forget to clean under the bed …………………………….......’’


For the first time in my life, I stare at mom dumbfounded and no words come out as she fires
ahead. I fumble, mumble and curse under my breath. Then, I assure her that the room will be clean, just as she wants it to be, and hurriedly clean the room, while casting surreptitious peeks from the corner of my eye to see if she's left the room. When i'm completely certain that she has, I rush to the door and slam it shut. Now I'm back to my book. When over five hours have passed, my room is eventually clean, and I look worn-out, exhausted, beat, pooped, done in, etc. I'm also sneezing incessantly , as a result of the truckloads of dust that have been uncovered in the process of cleaning. Eyes watering, befuddled, peeved, annoyed, teed off, irritated and terribly sleepy, i flop onto my now clean bed pull the blanket over my head as if to shut out everything and anything even remotely connected to cleaning in particular.


I wake up from my nap and go for supper. Mom comes into my room, nods approvingly and says ‘’ see, now you’ll be able to breathe easy and be more organized,’’ as I look at her in a resigned manner. I wake up the next day and am late for college. I am unable to find a dupatta to match my churidhar. I am unable to find my project file. One sweep of the things on my table, a good tensed forty minutes and a profusely sweating me later, I find my file. I sigh in relief and look up My eyes widen in shock and disbelief.
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MY ROOM IS BACK TO ITS MESSY STATE!!!!!!!

I am back after a long hiatus :). For some reason, i decided to go ahead with this :


BirthDAZE OVER THE YEARS

I realized rather gloomily that my nineteenth birthday is not far off. It means that next year, I will cease to be a teen. Here’s something that makes me feel less gloomy because, some of these events are etched in my mind forever and always have a smile emanating from my lips whenever I think of them.

The first 5 years - Everyone made a big ado. Relatives from all walks of the world, landed at our place for the ‘big event.’ It was razzmatazz personified. I was one of the youngest on both sides and one can only imagine the heights to which I was petted and pampered.

5-12 years-Everyone continued to make a huge fuss. Any bratty tantrums I threw were borne with a smile that might have well been an inward grimace. Lots of presents from everyone. I received money as gift from many members of my considerably large family .I took chocolates to school and was the pivot of attraction.

13-15 years- Teenage mutiny. people tried to make a huge fuss- I thought it was "uncool" and rebelled .Looked forward to gifts from friends. Grandparents , uncles and aunts called. Reasonable number of cards and gifts from friends . Felt special back then though, not as much as I had felt for the first 13 years, before the transformation from brat to a bigger brat.

16-18 years - Spent my 16th and 18th b’days among horrifyingly nightmarish days of my board exams, learning, teaching, breaking my head over math and accounts and watching my friends break their heads over math and accounts and inwardly rejoicing that I was not the only one breaking my head. My 17th b’day was a tad better - I was in my 11th std and my finals were around the corner. It was still officially not yet ‘exam week’ . However, the apprehensions regarding the exams had made themselves quite at home.

Now, my 19th b’day is around the corner. Nothing much will change. I will still have college on my b’day. Exams will either be in progress or round the corner(Damn them! They never ever seem to give me any respite, despite it being my b‘day), friends will ask for a treat, I will happily give in, return home and mourn the fact that I am into my last year as a teenager .

Drat, the next time I throw a tantrum, I will have to bear in mind the unpleasant fact that I can no more blame it on me being a teenager going through a rebellious phase. Time to think up a new excuse :)

TERRORISTAN OR HINDUSTAN?
In the recent past, names of many cities like Bombay ,Bangalore, Madras have been changed to Mumbai, Bengaluru, Chennai, etc. What if it hits a nation? What if this trend continues and Hindustan changes to Terroristan? Scary! But, in the light of the recent events, it seems to present a picture of reality. India has had a series of terrorist attacks and far from lessening, they seem to be increasing in number.Terrorism has been described as both a tactic and a strategy; a crime and a holy obligation; a warranted reaction to coercion and an unpardonable massacre. However, it is something that has to be wiped out.

India has seen many scenes of terrorism in the last few months, be it the bomb blasts in Delhi and Bengaluru or the current siege that started off as a shootout in Mumbai that has become something of a nightmare not only to Mumbaikars, but also to thousands around the globe. It is said that one often learns from past mistakes and blunders. Have we though? The government adopts a holier than thou attitude and says that they are doing everything in their power to vanquish the aiding and abetting of terrorism. But are they? The only efforts that are being taken are to increase their bank balance and to criticize epical names and denounce Hindu religious practices that have been in existence since even before the critic himself.

Previously, a terrorist was considered to have an extremely clichéd description of a scary looking person with a long beard and a mustache and probably a few scars across his face with scary, cold eyes, devoid of humane emotions and filled with cruelty. Yes, often, even harmless people who fitted this description were looked upon as terrorists and many times, it actually turned out to be a case of mistaken identity. Talking about mistaken identities, imagine this scene :
A young boy, probably either still in college or fresh out of college, well dressed with branded clothes, a branded satchel , clean shaven, well groomed, quite suave, looking like he’s out on a vacation, enjoying his time off at a hotel. There’s a bomb blast or a shootout. Thousands of people die and one happens to survive though, by any stretch of imagination he doesn‘t deserve to. The survivor is the attacker- the very same young man with the appearance of a college going teen. What can we call it now? World leaders condemn terrorist attacks. Government condemns the terrorist attacks. They feign sympathy, tut-tut away in what they think is a supposedly sympathetic manner and offer their condolences and perhaps money in return for their loss to the members of the dead families. Promises are made to take a stand against further terrorist attacks by the government but, promises of course are meant to be broken and the government has justified this!

‘’England cricket team calls off tour,
Terrorists strike Mumbai- 101 dead, 250 hurt,
6 foreigners killed in Mumbai blasts,
World leaders condemn terror attacks.’’
It was indeed unnerving to see a series of headlines being flashed incessantly on the news in this regard. It jolts us back to the nasty and harsh reality, brings us out of our reverie as to what we are going through. Yesterday Delhi, today Mumbai. Tomorrow - the World? This reminds us of the frightening fact that the future is indeed extremely bleak. The air is wrought with fright and tension. As part of the people that live in this world, we do deserve a sense of security.

This is our country. More importantly, this is our world. Keeping this in mind, the responsibility to protect, nourish and caress this world is also ours. Whether Hindustan remains Hindustan or changes to Terroristan, only time can tell.

TABLET TRIBULATIONS
Tick tock, tick, tock…. Time was ticking away, louder than ever.. I stared at my left hand and then at my right, back and forth, back and forth, as though I was in the process of getting hypnotized by the hypnotizer’s magic charm. I stared down at both my hands long and hard. I shuddered when I saw that nasty, red, oblong monster staring right back at me- it was blood red and did little to nullify the mounting trepidation and misgivings that had been gnawing my insides for the last three quarters of an hour. Every time my hand went towards my mouth, my mind did not cooperate and every time my mind cooperated, my hands did not.

My mind kept telling me ‘’consume that red monster and end it all. It is the quickest way to end that unpleasant thing that has caused your throat to become parched, your head to make you feel as though a few hundred men are hammering away its insides, the only way to stop your eyes from burning as though on fire, the only way to end all the pain and torment.’’ Even as my mind instructed me in almost firm, sergeant like tones, my hand simply would not oblige. My mouth twitched, my hands gave away and my jaw trembled violently on seeing that little red monster lying in the close of my palm, almost leering at me, as though aware of its impact on my irresolute, ever changing mind.

The last time I had been in this state, I had tried to make myself feel better, end all unpleasantries… and then, I had chickened out completely. It had become almost suicidal ; I had gagged, choked, coughed, come close to asphyxiation and then realized for a wee, microscopic moment that I was too young to suffer so much and had escaped from the suffocating clutches of the evil, red, one.

Today, it was déjà vu all over again and I was back to staring at it in reverence that can be evoked only out of sheer fright. Time was flying by. It was now or never. I had to do it at some point in the near future, which meant, pronto. So, I braved myself, told myself that I could do it, looked skywards, praying to the gods(so much for self encouragement… !!). I looked down at my hand for a final time, threw my head back, popped the little monster into my mouth, and emptied the can(yes, the huge one) of water into my mouth. I retched, I choked, but finally, …. Yesss, I had managed to defeat the enemy. I swallowed little more water (about another galleon or so) and sat down to savor my triumph over the evil one.

Ahh, the tribulations that can be caused by a common cold curing capsule, to a person who, after almost 19 years on this exalted earth, still hasn’t managed to master the art of consuming them!!!!

P.S. : I would like to thank a certain Mr.P whose narration of a particular incident inspired this article . :)

DOWN MEMORY LANE OF A PSBBian

Another year whizzes by. It is without doubt, a year to remember, a year that has left a great and lasting impact on me for more reasons than one. A year with reminiscences that I will cherish for eternity. It is a year that marks the beginning of a great end- my school life.

Even as I am penning this article, my mind takes me down memory lane, way back to my PRE.KG days where I found myself in what I had heard people call ‘shool’ (the way I had pronounced ‘School‘ as a three year old). It was a year of fun and frolic, playing in the mud pit, occasionally learning ABCs, getting out of stuff I didn’t want to do by smiling sweetly at my class teacher… LKG was pretty much the same and the teacher who taught me , Mrs. Girija Dilip is someone I can never forget - she used to be this ever smiling angel(still is) who would make you feel all warm and nice inside… even the worst brats(like Moi for instance ) would want to do anything she wanted them to.

Before I knew it I was in third grade- that was when I discovered my love hate relationship with Mathematics (I scored a 98 in it and lost the coveted centum due to an addition mistake; something my best friend Sruthi and I still laugh over.) At a later stage however, it turned into an all hate relationship. In grade four, I discovered a beautiful subject- Sanskrit. The subject and I go back a long way . It was taught by a teacher for whom I have immense respect. Yes, Mrs. Girija Krishnamurthy made Sanskrit interesting and logical- so interesting that even now, despite being in my first year of college, I am still studying it, not out of compulsion but out of sheer love for the language. Middle school came and I thought it was the coolest, most ‘grown up’ part of life…. How wrong I was… life got worse ‘cos, it was at this juncture that I realized that math and biology were vying with each other for top rank in my hate list of subjects…..

I remember the day I made it to Main School…. I remember entering its portals on the very first day of my Ninth standard and feeling unexplainably excited- here was a place which would ensure that I had my quota of fun. Four years in PSBB Main has indeed made me a better person in various aspects. I fell in love with English- I choose to see it as something more than just a subject . Writing became my passion. English classes were the only classes I looked forward to in my 11th and 12th stds. Taught by my favourite teacher Mrs.Viji Raman, my love for the subject increased manifold. She had a way of teaching the subject in a manner that would ensure learning, without the pupil even realizing it. English classes in my 11th and 12th meant fun combined with learning. She is one of the main reasons why I miss Main school so much(pun intended). Well, this school had its flip sides too, I fell prey to math and accountancy- two subjects which showed absolutely no mercy on me. I have passed my 12th standard, but for the life of me, I still cannot understand and unfold the intricacies of geometry or the demystifying and elusive accountancy with its numerous balance sheets with columns of assets and liabilities that never did tally for me even once; no, not even in my board exam!!!

TRRRRINGGG!!!! The phone rings, and I am startled out of my reverie. I wake up to the reality that school life as I knew it is over. I am now a college going teen. I feel a little empty and lost inside but I go back to reminisce about it and I feel a lot better.

School was and still is something special to me. It made me believe that the world was a comfortable place where everyone and everything would be easy going and fun loving. Well, so much for that. The real world, well, is a lot different… take it with a pinch of salt.

SAVE THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE !!!

English is a beautiful language and it looks like some people are absolute sadists- they utterly cannot stand to see a beautiful thing last forever. Baffled??? Read on to comprehend.

There was a time when speaking perfect English and employing perfect grammar had other people staring enviously at the speaker, wishing desperately that they were at least half as good as the person speaking. Now however, it is a different story altogether. Try speaking perfect English or correcting someone using incorrect grammar and the response one will elicit is ‘’Stop showing off dude.’’ Sadly, in this modern and sophisticated era when people break a tooth or/and nail in their campaign to achieve perfection in every field, a person employing sophisticated and perfect grammar is seen as a persona non grata.

Bad English hangs around our necks like a dead albatross. The abominations inflicted by the person ‘supposedly speaking English’ upon the listener are too many to keep track of. The other day, I was enjoying my rare evening walk, taking in the sounds and sights of the place after which I made my way to the ice-cream parlor. I was enjoying my ice cream and taking in its sugary sweetness when I heard the shopkeeper tell the customer that the cost of the ice cream was ‘tolve’- meaning twelve rupees. On observing for a short period, I noticed that 95% of the people I came across pronounced ‘twelve’ as ‘tolve’ and worse, no one found it to be wrong at all. What is it with people these days? At the going rate, there might well be amendments made in the Thesaurus, replacing ‘twelve’ with ‘tolve.’

Another way of killing the English language is by using literal translation. In Tamil, people say ‘ leave podaren’ - some people very nonchalantly convert it to ‘put leave’ instead of saying ‘taking the day/week/month off’. Same is the case with ‘late panran’ which has been translated to ‘he made late’ instead of saying ‘he delayed someone.’ Its a good thing that William Shakespeare died when he did. If he were to be alive now, he would have killed the people butchering the English language and would have been condemned to death - a very undignified way to die .

One more thing which drives me up the wall is the practice of adding an ‘a’ to a word thereby adding a Tamil touch to it. For instance - ‘’Sachin outta?’’ (is Sachin out?) or ’’had fooda??’’(had food?) . I mean, is it really hard to say three easy words rather than omit one of them and ruin English grammar like never before?? It looks like people are caught in this never ending competition where they praise and glorify the person who kills the English language the most .

The bottom line - it is NOT fashionable to speak bad grammar. Bad grammar is out, flawless and faultless grammar which does not cause shock attacks to 2 out of 40 people (the number of people who probably speak relatively decent grammar) is the in thing.

P.S. : IF YOU THINK YOU CAN COVER UP FOR YOUR BAD USAGE OF THE LANGUAGE BY EMPLOYING A PATHETIC IMITATION OF THE AMERICAN ACCENT, YOU CAN THINK AGAIN.