"I have the heart of a small boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk."
-Robert Bloch

I'd love to change it to " I have the heart of a little girl", but:
1. It is a quote, after all.
2. The changed version sounds very funny
So lets make do with the original quote. I want to discuss a very oft-repeated topic. How we all mature from little kids into adults, and then look back to reminisce, how wonderful it all was. By 'it', I mean, childhood. We all grow up, and we just leave it all behind. Like, putting a that heart in a small jar on your desk.
I've always thought that I had a journey towards maturity. Something which started when I was born, and continued as I grew up. I have always believed that if there was one thing I could do, it was to be able to map it all out through my diaries. In fact, that is the one reason why I started writing them. To go back, and experience the "growing-up", and comment as I went along. I have a very bad habit of doing just that. I call it bad, because it gets me obsessed with it all, and unknowingly gives me the desire to dissect everything out. In several ways, Anatomy ( the one subject I hate) rules my life. It would be ok, if the dissection sticks to my life only, me only. But, it doesn't. I go out judging people, dissecting out their personalities, and I hate doing it. Because most of the time, its not even fair to them.
But, moving away from my rambling ( see, I can just get carried away with anything. I should really learn a lot more HTML, to put in all that I feel when I'm writing), I was reading my diary, as is my regular habit. And, contrary to my supposed belief that I journeyed into something resembling maturity, I haven't actually done so. Upto about 15 years of age, I can feel the child inside me, in all those pages. And, its just not a child, I really mean that I was kiddish in my way of looking at things. When I try to compare, what I wrote then, and what I write now, the gist of the matter doesn't change. I wrote about my day then, I write about it now. I wrote about a lovely cricket match I watched ( I do write about that), and I still write about it now. The difference is in the way it is all written. Its not just to do with the English I used, or the descriptions I gave. My perspective was more or less, small. I don't find depth, or any understanding of any situation I wrote about. I talked about feelings even then, but it is never clear, what exactly I have to say. I just couldn't describe myself. And probably didn't have enough time to think about it.
So what I want to say is that, I believe I have matured. And I have done so, in the past three years. Gosh! Thats a mighty heavy thing to say. But, it is true. I marvel at myself. So, I have grown up to face situations with a grey heart instead of the black-or-white one I had when I was in school; Where there's a lot more to anything than just right or wrong; Where there is a lot more to the mind than just love, hatred, joy and good-old jealousy.
Its just shocking, that I realise this now. I don't find an abrupt change. I guess, as I faced a bigger world, my perspective changed, my mind grew, and I felt more things, in different concentrations ( not exactly the word, but will do). So, in the end, it isn't shocking. I'm just comparing three years of something new to the 15yrs of before ( not 15 actually, about 3, because that is how much I have recorded). I guess, 10years down the line, I'll look at this entry and laugh and further talk about 'new perspectives'.
Why the quote, then, when it doesn't even fit into the equation here? Well, the child inside us always remains. Its never lost. We just remove that heart out, and set it aside in a jar ( ready to put it back, whenever we fancy). Setting it aside, is a sort of landmark, and I guess I found mine:-)

Harry Potter

Happy Birthday To J.K. Rowling and Harry. Assuming that, Harry's life goes alongside mine ( I've read all the books during the period of 11-17yrs), you turn 19 today. Stupid really, forget the age. Just a very, very Happy Birthday.

Another year goes by, and, so does my wish of actually writing to J.K. Rowling thanking her for a book that has been a companion all through the formative years, and will be one, forever. So, I have decided that I'll write it here. I don't care when she reads this. I don't even know whether she will read it or not. But, an attempt is being made here. So here goes.

I was given my first Harry Potter ( strangely, it wasn't Philosopher's Stone. I got Prisoner of Azkaban) on my 11th birthday. My uncle had been to the UK, where the Harry Potter mania was most felt. He thought it would be the perfect gift for his readinng-crazy niece. It sounds very funny now to talk about it. But I didn't even know about Harry Potter then. He asked me about it, and gave me the book. I just stared at it.......wondering whether I'd like this new author. And I started off with it during my Diwali vacations. I was hooked. My eyes pained, my head became a little woozy because of the continuous reading, I had to read a few pages again and again because I couldn't fit anything more. But I was hooked. One of the books talks about a cursed book that one went on reading forever ( with it being stuck to the witch's nose). I was probably struck by the curse ( though I wouldn't call it that) too. I was insanely in love with it.

Going back to school, I started talking about it, and thought there were a hundred others written by the same author ( I was that clueless). Well, my knowledge improved and soon, I became one of those freaks who can't live without reading at least a page of it in the day. I read the rest of the books, and finally finished when I was 17, with Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. So, Harry's journey has sort of resembled mine.

Guess that is the reason I consider all the characters to be close friends, even deriving inspiration from Hermione's scholarly and know-it-all ways to improve upon my studying. Reading Sirius dying was a blast out of the blue. It shook me badly. I haven't been able to read that part in the Ministry again. Dumbledore's death was beyond grief. But, the book that takes the Honour in the amount of tears drawn, has to be Deathly Hallows. Reading it, knowing it's all going to end is hard enough. Add on the people she killed off, it wasn't a happy experience. But, it is a wonderful book, and just narrowly misses the top spot to Prisoner ( because that it my very first Harry Potter, and that makes it extra special).

Harry Potter has been something like a second life to me. I read it everytime I get upset, everytime I'm angry, or even when I'm happy. When I don't have a book to read, I just pick up a Harry Potter and start off. It is incredibly calming and purifying. And I NEVER get bored of it. I have evolved as a person in the past 6-7 years. I owe a lot of things. And Harry Potter is one of them. I owe J.K. Rowling so much more than I could ever say or even do. She has created a world that we all want to be a part of. And, it doesn't matter that we aren't a part of it. Because the magical web her words spin everytime she writes, just entangles us in that world whenever and wherever.

I know I'll be reading this story to my children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I know I'll always gift a Harry Potter to a child, before anything else, such is the impact of this wonderful series. Joanne, you created this enchanting paradise in the 20th and 21st centuries. But, it will be discussed for many more centuries to come. As a Harry Potter freak, I feel honoured to have been able to read it again and again and again. And, every July 31st, I feel great pride in wishing you and Harry the best there can be.

Thank You!! Have a Wonderful Year ahead!!!

" For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."
- Shakespeare

I love this quote. It really puts into words, my definition of Love. Of course, I hardly have a definition, as a complete chapter on Love. But, it gets the essence of what I have to say.

I thought I'd talk about love today. I have been forced to question its sanity a number of times. I did not believe in it, a few years back. I did not want to believe in it, about a year or slightly more, back. I have always asked myself ( did not dare to ask my mom, for reason I'm not going to mention) what it is like to be in love, how does one know that one has fallen in love for sure, and the repeatedly asked question " Does one fall in love only once?''

I finally did arrive at my own theory of love. And I thought I'd put it down here, today. Nothing special, just the irresistible desire to assert the integrity of this term which has made history interesting over the ages. I get discouraged at times in believing that love does exist, so this is a way of not doing so.

Love is satisfaction; knowing that you have finally found what you want, and feeling that there is nothing more special than that in your life. Love is trust; having faith in somebody, knowing that he will never stab you in the back, knowing that he cares about you as much as you do about him. And love is desire; the need to be with somebody, the way one turns to one person at all times good or bad, feeling that wave of flutter going through you as you look into his eyes.

Why do we love? Or rather, why do we look for love? Why is it that we want to share our life with somebody, and that we make eveyr effort in finding that somebody? I guess, the answer is: at the end of the day, we all want to feel wanted. We need to know that we aren't alone in this world, and that there is somebody for whom every single thing we do, is as important, as it is to us.

Susan Sarandon talks about marriage in "Shall We Dance". She says, " We need a witness to our lives. There's a billion people on the planet... I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you're promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things... all of it, all of the time, every day. You're saying 'Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness'." I think that is quite the thing in love too. You want to know that you are being noticed. Hell, you need to know.....and you won't rest till you find it. So if that means you have to date a hundred people for a hundred years, you do that, because, at the end of the day, there is no life that is complete without love.

Love is said to be an illusion during teenage. We don't know what we talk about, when we say we love somebody. In a marriage, it is compromise. You cut back on something for the person you love. During the 40s, it takes a backseat. You have more important things to cater to. Children growing up, the midlife tensions getting to you; there isn't time to say " I love you", or may be you've gone past the stage when you even feel it. You have somebody. Thats it. Taken for granted. Nothing romantic about it. More important roles to play, the roles you play for each other vanish.

I don't even know why I'm writing this, whether it is true. But my point is, you need to realise you can't take people for granted, especially the person, who at one point of time was the 'special someone'. Love isn't just about finding the person who cares about you, and then ( a term used very frequently and very dispassionately) settle down. It is about making the other person feel special throughout life. It is about thinking of the other person before you think of yourself. It is about doing those small things like waking up in the morning and making a small cup of tea, going out on a Sunday for a quiet dinner for two, pressing her head when she just says,'' My head's starting to pain.'', helping her out in the household chores, giving him his favourite dish for lunch without telling him so, making those birthdays and anniversaries quiet, peaceful and special. That is what Love is.

It isn't about looking at each other every morning and discussing the day's work. It isn't about bickering about the broken down refrigerator every time you meet in the day. And it definitely isn't about forgetting what you promised each other in your vows, twenty years down the line.

Children will grow up and leave to live their own lives. Jobs will end one day in retirement. The dammed refrigerator will be repaired in few hours. But what never leaves your side, is that love you took to be your own; to protect and make happy, to trust and share a life with. Tears, sorrow, quarrels, are supposed to be a part of the package. But there is a difference felt (by others too), when these do tend to squash any feelings of love that might still remain.

Love is what makes life bearable, and the End easier than we think. Treasure it, treasure the other person, and let him or her know that they do , at the end of it all, mean the world to you.

As a big Lance Armstrong fan, it was a little disappointing to watch him finish on the podium without the Yellow Jersey. But, as a comeback, we couldn't have asked for a more positive one. He definitely looks one of the oldest on Tour, but there is also a mature determination on his face, and a very , I guess I can only call it, mellow yet strong will to finish the Tour on his face this time. His face more or less remains expressionless, but this year, watching him, I did see the adult athlete racing with the kids around. All around him, there was this youthful fire, raw, vibrant and spitefully hungry at times.......and then him; with the settled, warm and continous fire that one associates with the older guys.
Its a very different Armstrong we saw this year. Yet, he appears no less challenging, in fact, I would bet on the Yellow Jersey on him next year, more than I could have managed all throughout 1999-2005. Its amazing how he has come back, actually.
In fact, it was tough to follow the Tour in 2006, and have a winner who wasn't Lance Armstrong. I thought I'd never have him back on the race circuit ever ( having followed cricket for all my life, where, retirees don't really make an about-turn). So this is definitely just as good as it gets. We're seeing a new chapter in Tour history being written, and it is going to be as memorable as the previous one, if not as long as that.
And of course, finally, Alberto Contador has to be given credit. He really did nail it this time. And he completely deserves his second Yellow Jersey.
Lance Armstrong, I ardently am pinning to the hope that next year, I will see you in that Jersey on the podium. But, got to admit it, its just such a treat to watch you back on Tour. Kudos!!

" Back From the Dead."

I don't really use the phrase, unless I really, literally mean that. But, here I couldn't think of anything better, although I'm sure, there'll be a hundred better and definitely less barbaric phrases to describe Andy Roddick's journey.

In the past two years, with Rafael Nadal's rise, Roger Federer's continued awesome form ( at times meeting its Nemesis in Nadal), a few players rising up out of nowhere ( Marcos Baghdatis, Robin Soderling, Wilfred Tsonga to name a few ), the William sisters finally getting back to where they belonged, Andy Roddick was pretty much shut to the sidelines. And his form didn't help him really, deserting him when he needed it the most.

Looking back, more than half the tennis world had probably thought the Roddick chapter was closed and done with for sometime. Which is why, this run means a hell lot more to all the tennis fans around the world. Because, it shows that a man's conviction and will ( and from the papers that I've read, a woman's constant support and love) can even make him turn around in a game like Tennis, where, your body needs to be sharper than your mind at all times, whatever the time span of the game.

Agreed that at the end of the day, Roger Federer won, Andy Roddick, with all due respect, did not do enough to seal his day, but at least it will put inside him a belief that the seeding of No.6 carries a little more meaning than just respect for a good player.

Which finally brings me to say, that it really did sadden me to see him let go at the final point. Because, despite having done all the hard work, despite having shut the mouths of all those critics who said he stood no chance, despite giving Centre Court a second Epic final in two years, Andy Roddick did end up at the loser's end. And looking back, he just didn't do enough. He might have won a million fans over on 5th July, 2009, but he will always be left with a remorse that says, " You should've given it a bit more." And it showed in those dry eyes, and that red nose he sported after it was all over. It will hurt him, as it hurt the many people who rooted for him, whatever their reasons might have been.

I hope, Mr. Roddick, this is the start of an upward swing for you......

And, hey, Good Game!!

To Mrs. Matthew:

It all started when I first entered your cabin on a fine day in March. Dressed in my school-uniform, with my short hair tucked neatly behind a black hairband and wearing clean polished black shoes, I looked the perfect student. My mother had the papers in her hand and all I could do was look around, a little dazed and a little overwhelmed by the clean white walls, the formal and quiet atmosphere, and by the brown door with a window. I could become a part of this school, I thought, in the next few minutes.
Hiding behind my mother, I entered the Principal's office. The atmosphere was quite intense; mostly because of the person sitting behind the Principal's desk. I was so scared I even forgot to wish you a 'Good Afternoon', Mrs. Matthew; something I had practised for hours together before coming there.
As my mother answered all the questions, I stood timidly next to her. I was so tiny, I hardly was any taller than my mom sitting in the chair. All I could think of, was "Please let this get over fast. I don't want to stand here any more and make more a fool of myself. Can't even wish the Principal a 'Good Afternoon' properly..."
In the 6 years that I spent in this school, I never got over that fear. Going to the Principal's office was one of the most arduous tasks I had to face. Yet, today when I look back, there's something special about that fear, and the feeling I had when I was in your office.
St. Mary's is a name that stands tall only because of the efforts you put in, the risks you took, the instincts you followed and because of the products that came out of the school. We are called snobbish, arrogant and, at times, even self-centred. But what remains unsaid is despite all those tags, we are considered good and confident individuals that every one wants to be.
The six years that I spent in St. Mary’s under the protective care of your hand turned me into somebody I wouldn’t even have dreamt of becoming when I first entered the school. Having stepped out of that protection into the real world, the real me has shown herself and I couldn’t be happier with what I see myself as. It’s a dream I had and today I do see myself close enough to that person. All this, because of the efforts one hell of a woman. The years I spent in Mary’s are sacred. It took a while to get out of there and move on; to close a big chapter of my life and write a second. In the process, I just locked all those memories away, to remain as raw and pure as ever, to never fade into the darkness of oblivion.
Today, however, the lock was broken and, as I recalled that barrage of memories, I could not stop to ask, “Why?!” I did not know you personally. I was one of the 100 students you had in your school. To me, you were the Principal. Yet, the impact that you had was immense. Today, as I sit to write this, I just want to thank you for all the lives you’ve touched unknowingly. We always looked up to you. We always knew that when Mrs. Matthew was there, things just couldn’t go wrong.
I’ve always wanted to come back to Mary’s and you are the one thread that ties me back to the school I love so much. Now that the thread has suddenly untied itself, I don’t even seem to know that place anymore; the place where my school stood at one point of time. I’ve suddenly become orphaned of the one place which made a Person, and it is unreal to experience such loneliness.
I will always miss you, Mrs. Matthew. You moulded me into what I am today. And I could never string words together to thank you enough for that.

Yours sincerely,

" VAMOS!!!"

- Rafael Nadal's trademark word, everytime he wins a point.

He's just too good! From 2005 to 2009, he's improved by more than just leaps and bounds, and especially that first serve. You would have thought that last year's Wimbledon was the best you could get out of the man. But, today, he proved it again. Proved that a guy other than Roger Federer may challenge him, and he'll take the match as seriously, as he would a match against Federer.

The amount of energy the guy has, is awe-inspiring. Even in the last set of today, after 5 hrs of play, he and Verdasco, brought shots out of nowhere. You'd think they had just started the match! It was rather unfortunate that Verdasco double-faulted to finish the match, but, you just have to watch that match without blinking your eye-lids, to see what they managed to come up with.

I did not give Verdasco a chance. I was hoping to catch the highlights of a three-setter, and found myself watching open-mouthedly, the last and probably most entertaining, fifth set. I have to hand it to the guy ( and I mean, Verdasco). You were good. And to get the score to a 6-7, 6-4, 7-6, 6-7, 6-4 required tennis that ,we never thought you'd have! So congrats on a great end to your campaign. You went down fighting, and may I say, in a way 100-fold better than a rejuvenated Andy Roddick ( no disrespect here, but I'd thought he'd give a better challenge).

And to Rafael Nadal, well, what should I say. I'm really not in the position to say anything. Time and again, he's proved how great he is, and today was no exception. Obviuosly, I want him to stop at nothing short of an Australian Open title. Just hoping, it won't be as exciting as Wimbledon 2008. One five-setter per Grand Slam is enough for me! Best of Luck, Rafa! Go ahead! Do it!!!

"D. It is written."

-Slumdog Millionaire

I wasn't even interested in the movie, when it was released in the USA. Everyone talked about the Indian stars in it, and I thought, "There you go! Another mafia -type movie. Why does Hollywood come to the Indian Film Industry only for that?" Of course, after having observed the rage that this movie created, and having seen the movie myself, I am forced to apologise in the humblest way I can.

This entry, is not only a review of the movie, but also, one of the many answers to Mr. Bacchan's blog entry that created an uproar in India. First and foremost, it is only a director of Danny Boyle's expertise that can make such a layered film. There is a strange rhythmn that the movie has, which it maintains throughout, a slightly lyrical quality to the way the story has been handled. A story is always converted into a movie, and surely, it is never as good as the book. This movie differs in that very aspect. This is the best adaptation I have watched in recent times. And that includes movies like Harry Potter, Lord Of the Rings, Pride and Prejudice. The movies look like they had been adaptations of the books. Slumdog simply didn't.

All in all, its a simple story of love, interspersed with a life of the slum of Dharavi, and the stark reality of what they are made of. For all those who feel that showing a child first being taught to sing bhajans extremely well, and then being made blind to beg, is an extreme, I ask, " Isn't this what does happen in our streets?" The movie has not portrayed anything in an exaggerated way. It has shown everything, just the way it is.

We know, India is not only about the slums. But we also know that India is about the slums. These areas form such an integral part of our land, you can't ignore them. This movie is a potrayal of a young lad , and his journey of life. What he does for love, the lenghts that he goes to, unwilling to accept that his love can be taken away from him. What Jamal says to the Inspector sims it all up. " I went on the Show because I thought she'd be watching." That is all that it was to him. To catch the eye of the girl he had loved since they were children ; the girl, to find whom, he came back to the city that held the horrors of his childhood.

It is by luck, that he gets questions he can answer, by luck, that the one question he doesn't know the answer to, he guesses right. But, the story isn't about the Show, or the knowledge that Jamal has. It is a story about love, about a journey that begins in Mumbai, and ends there too.

As beautiful as the movie is, Dev Patel's portrayal of the character of Jamal is explicit. It will be hard to look at him in any other role now. Danny Boyle has found the perfect actors for every part, every character. The best of the lot are the children from the slums. The ease with which they play their parts is very shocking and awe-inspiring.

A R Rahman remains himself when it comes to the music. He has always been a terrific music composer. The music sounds just like a trademark AR Rahman music. It blends perfectly with the story.

Slumdog Millionaire deserves every ounce of admiration it has got. Every 'human' should watch this movie at least once. You'll come out a different person, without even knowing it.

" The work begins."

This is my message to President Obama. I was in the USA when the elections happened, and what really struck me, was the fervour with which he campaigned for the position. While every candidate does that, there was something which was earnest about him and his campaign that appealed to me. Adding on to that, being the first American Black President is not a joke. Agreed that we as people might have moved on from the racial questions, we, as the world, have not. And that is why this is so important.

President Obama has a lot of expectations on his shoulders. Not just from his own people, but also from people from all over the world. To set an example of what a good and real President, or , a better term, the person in power, should be. I am not a fan of politics. The only person I have always admired, who had a small connection with the administration of the country, is former India President Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam. But, even then it wasn't for his presidentship, as much as it was for his life as a scientist, as a scholar. President Obama definitely looked the part of a good President, and I have a lot of respect for him because of that. And so do hundreds of other people, as was clear from the ceremony held at the Capitol yesterday.

I definitely want to see a great leader in him from now on. I hope he does his very best for the world and his own country. I wish him Best of Luck, ad hope that his Presidentship will lead us to a path of success and a peaceful world.

" And then there were none."
- Agatha Christie

This is the title of my favourite Agatha Christie. Its actually got nothing to do with the entry today. But, I do go through phases when I just don't find lines which can portray the entire feeling. Some people might just understand what I'm trying to say.
Today, as I sat down in front of the television to watch the second 20-20 between Australia and South Africa, I heard the commentators talking about Matthew Hayden retiring. He has been a wonderful player, one of the best openers for Australia, and simply a parameter to compare every new opener with. If he doesn't deserve a farewell entry, I really don't know who does.
This has been talked about for ages. Will he , won't he. A string of poor scores, a patch of awful form and tongues start wagging. Especially when you're Matthew Hayden. But, he has stuck it out once before, to come up with blitzkreig innings everytime he played in the World Cup '07. So I guess, I thought he'd hang in there.
Matthew Hayden has been a phenomenal player. The amount of stability and terror that he got into the opening of the Aussie batting line-up can only be seen in the opening bowler's first delivery. Everytime he came out to bat, you would have people wondering what they'd witness from him. Predictably unpredictable always. I was fortunate to watch all of his innings in WC '07, and, man!, were they awesome!!
For a man of his stature, I guess this sort of a farewell isn't exactly what we would have wished for. But, the Brisbane crowd really hit it off. I haven't witnessed a more wonderful goodbye to such a grand player. You've been an awesome guy, mate! And all we can do is wish for a wonderful and deliciously mouth-watering future for you.
I remember your 66-ball 100 against South Africa in the Group match in WC '07. You've played many innings since then ,and even before that, but that will remain the ultimate favourite always. Followed by the six you hit in Sydney '07 on Day 4, Ashes test 5. It'll always remain etched in our memories for ever.
I took the "And then there were none" line for a reason really. There will be no more 100s n 50s to rave about, from this guy. No more slip catches that will be discussed over the years. All good things end some day, but, with you, I wish they go on forever.
Farewell mate! And Thank You. Our love for you will never fade.

" And they lived happily ever after."

The end of every fairy tale, really. That is all there is. And every year end too, we ask for the same thing -A happily-ever after. We hope that the next year will bring a lot more than the year gone by, did. We hope there will be more success garaunteed for us and celebrate every New Year in style. It is human nature after all, to hope and keep on hoping.

2008 wasn't a bad year. It was a year that started with people coming to terms with the assasination of Begum Benazir Bhutto, and a year that ended with people trying to come to terms with the Mumbai blasts and Israel's attacks. The year has carried with it a word of threat, a word of terror; it really brought terrror closer to our homes than ever. And yet I say it wasn't a bad year. Simply because all through this, it taught us to hope and to live together.

As I look at the new dawn of Jan 1st, all I wish for in this new year is peace and quiet. I wish for a unity of people against the word of terror, I wish for simple acts of caring that are not debarred by the dogmas of religion and faith. I hope and pray for a better world, where the meaning of life is understood, the value of life not belittled. I wish for a simple world that is not divided by physical borders or mental ideoligies. And I definitely hope for a safer year than 2008.

And with the start of every new year, comes a list of resolutions. I have made mine too. I don't really succeed at them, but I do try my level best. So here's to 2009, another attempt at trying to keep my resolutions and gaining the happily-ever-after for this year!