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You have excellent English!

Mentioned the Boston-Brahmin to me. You know the concept of whites and grammar, you read stuff white people like, don’t you?

But somehow, I am not chuffed, as Indians are expected to be when similarly praised by whites. There is something just not correct here.

Well, we both got it from the same source, the English! I mention.

He is way senior to me in the organization, but we get along really well, so instead of getting angry, he smiles it away. Backs off.

So, touche, Mword.

There is no reason to be proud of me for having gone on a trip alone.

I understand. Wrong compliment.

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There are many reasons why one should adore Terry Pratchett. Here’s another, for me. He can speak for me. Like he did at 1985. Sample this.

I had a deprived childhood, you see. I had lots of other kids to play with and my parents bought me outdoor toys and refused to ill-treat me, so it never occurred to me to seek solitary consolation with a good book.

Rings a bell? Oh yeah it does. See, books were never my escape route. Football was. Cycling was. Cricket was. Books were the despite of…. Books were the stuff that I also did. Just like writing. I was a normal kid, even somewhat plebian, you might say … And here’s another question. What are the chances that a kid will grow up to be a regular reader, is he/she was reasonably good at sports when small?

And also, you should seriously read the transcript of (this talk) by Pratchett. There are wonderful things he discusses, like Merlin’s death, like literary the distinction (and even discrimination) between wizards and witches, and the brilliant Ursula Le Guin….

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And i don’t get along with Beck. At all. The kaleidoscope through which he sees the world, and the one I use, are composed of complimentary colours.

And that’s why it is fun to catch up with him. We know each other for ages, remember? We drink like fish, we crib about our wives not being with us right now, we go out for the rare smoke, we hunt for exotic food joints, we discuss music, office politics the stock market, real estate rates in the Bay Area and New York, and other similarly mundane things. We even try out some music…. Not too bad, really. A reasonable version of ‘No one knows what it’s like, to be a bad man…’. Not too bad…

And when we, as discussions generally go, move towards discussions on a human level, either just changes the topic, knowing that it doesn’t make sense…

And so, it is fun. He is not a friend to me and neither I to him, but it’s better that way. The pretense of caring about how either is doing, or how life has changed since college, or bitching about old relationships, is not there. And neither of us is really nosey.

So, fun weekend. Yes.

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Very close friend had his birthday a few days ago, and i was invited for the party. Good fun, and the people who knew me from college got a genuine shock to see me sing and play the guitar. The others just applauded. The trick’s called practise, and well, in to old house (remember that place, defined by just a three digit number?), I had innumerable chances to perfect the four (note, only four) songs that I can do reasonably well, and an audience (albeit reluctant) ….. but that’s another story. Enough of bragging.

This post is on a comment in that party….

In the middle of California, country of free love, there was this question raised within a group of young, knowledgable guys and girls, mostly unknown to each other previously. The topic of discussion was gay marriages and the acceptability of homosexuals in the society. Voices rose, sides were taken and points fought with vigor…. There is this guy i know from college, Beck, stays right next doors to where the party was, the ex-pseudo-rockstar, not given to intelligent conversation…. and he comes up with this sudden bit of clarity…

The question was ‘What will you do if your son turns out to be gay?’

And he replies, ‘I will not shoot him or anything for sure ….. I will be heartbroken and disappointed, yes, but hey, what could I do? I cannot convert him to straight, no? So I willl make do’.

We, straight men, are all homophobic, as an acclaimed blogger had once (yesterday?) put it. And we, as men, will at some level generalise that women are a certain way; and we as Indians, will generalise that the whites, the blacks, the hispanics and the orientals will be a certain way; and if i am a north indian, I will generalise that south indians are a certain way.
And we, as normal human beings, will always have our biases and our prejudices and out own ways of looking at people who look different from us, talk different from us, follow a separate god, or are different in any other way. And that’s what makes us human, and not androids.
We analyse, we think, and we can have viewpoints.

The important point is, our prejudices should not force us to act inhumanly. We humans should first and foremost be creatures of logic. And in personal interaction, not fail to look at an individual objectively, separated from the external images of that individual that we have in our mind, created by our biases.

 

Our biases should not drive us. Logic should.

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Ahem.

I watch movies depending on the hype, and then afterwards read blogs and reviews.

So was it with ‘Johnny Gaddar’

And, then, Raja Sen….. Rediff…. on Neil Nitin Mukesh….

And what eye candy this is. Ladies and gents — and I say this with a record of unblemished heterosexuality — the man is reasonably edible. I see what the women are melting about. A cooler, leaner and more cerebral looking version of Hrithik Roshan, there’s a tender softness about Neil that gives him the feel of depth. He acts quite all right — though his English dialogues need polish — but this isn’t a testing role. It demands well-paced coolth, which he delivers strongly.

A discerning woman friend, raving about the man for the last two weeks, was torn while describing a scene — Neil walks into his pad and, while tidying up, grooves to the beat of that fab Move Your Body song with a complete lack of self-consciousness — whether ‘sex on buttered toast’ was hyperbolic enough to do the man justice. I saw said scene, and I must say I dug. This lad’s going to have his clothes ripped off by women at every opportunity — seemingly not too hard a task, ladies, given his visible disdain for shirt-buttons.

Well, gentleman, that is not straight writing (disclaimer of ‘unblemished heterosexuality’ notwithstanding … nice term though, unblemished heterosexuality..). The world is fine with gay, really. No need getting defensive. And a ‘tender softness’? Uh, did you really mean it? Dude, either this Raja guy is shining, glaring pink, or this is not a faux-pas, this is a faux-grandpa.

But then again, Raja is good at his job, and journalists are known to be pink. That does not really affect their job I guess. Subhash Jha is okay as a journo.

(p.s. asked sister how she likes NNM. Her reactions – ‘Too Punjabi in looks, and extremely pale. Needs a tan. Rather good otherwise.’ I guess some men have looks only attractive to other men…)

And.

Good movie. Do watch.

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Moonsighting

Off late, I have started hating coincidences . It changes the mechanics of things, and makes me want to believe that things are not as random as they seem to be.

So yesterday, I saw Moonsquared Sen walk around in a mall here.

And came back home to find this in my feedreader.

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