Simplicity...

how does my self
become a long Spear
for phantoms mostly far
and seldom Near

oh when they Arise
these phantoms
gallop they Astride
my life Dear.

i’m turned in to
a horrified watcher
mute
and impervious to Hear

oh they come and Wreck
my reality without Check
and children its unwanted
poor future is left to Bear

but don’t we all Say
maybe this time
but not another Day
will my weakness
make me Sway
from my center of gravity
might fall apples
or might fall Pear

but yet I am Aware
in the small of my heart
that in the soul’s Crosshair
stands a target
too tough to Bear

shooting is useless
poking is pointless
joking is embarrassing
for people grown up
and apparently Clear

us people
taken for a ride
by something as solid
as an artifice of our Minds
and our notions on the Grind
producing a glue
that binds us to our Fear

never mind
the lack of measurable Proof
after all freud died and einstein did Too
trying to prove
that the stuff of non stuff
is meant to really load Bear

we write off the non Stuff
for being nearly all Fluff
but when it visits us
in a dream or a night Mare
isn’t it as real
as the shudder it produces
in the left ventricle
and the right Hemisphere

so then one Day
one must sit down and
let the wind Sway
a few leaves and
a lot of your matter gray

one must go Deep
to come up
with a realization Steep
which only an experience
is strong enough to Hear

so there is
always a way Around
if its not words
then it must be the Sound
of a fear running Stout
from a self coming About
from the land of no Steer

so let me figure out
from the self walking about

sir, what is it, I ask
that takes a good self
to clear the cobwebs around
its eyes and its Ear

the self asks
if you are ready for this discovery anew
then listen:

we are but one
you are me
and I am you.

bending it says in my Ear,
what we call Fear
is the separation in which souls stew
when i stay I
and you stay You

Ok, here is my reading of the film... since everyone's givnig their views here are mine...



Om Shanti Om is a heart rending love story that never was.

The last scene, in which a wind and air Shanti looks tearfully at a flesh and blood Om, could have been the defining moment of the film – only it isn’t.
Because the scene has not been given any feet to stand on. And that is because the film works on a farcical level and in a movie you can either have farce or depth.
OSO chooses farce.

However the forgiving Indian audiences (one still has to hear from them though) will love the music – even the beautiful love ballad (ajab si) is as per the demands of an epic song, split into two and it works – to a degree though.

The movie laughs at everything; most hearteningly at itself, and there is tons of it – the hallmark of a true farce.
So right from a hamming mother to a hamming son to a fantastic Filmfare award ceremony in which SRK has two nominations – for practically the same movie posing under two different names – to a starlet and her yesteryear mummy to the song with 31 Bollywooders!
The entire industry has cooperated in this self joke – hats off.

OSO goes further to consciously make movie a metaphor for life – quite literally as SRK and Kirron Kher keep taking turns to mouth – “picture abhi khatam nahin hui” – to give you the pop pill that if it doesn’t seem right, it mustn’t be the end – just like some guru said is the case with life too.
Pop psychology, pop soda, pop sickle.

And someone please inform Paulo Coelho pronto, about his Alchemist finding a new audience – the Indian front row tapori – thanks to OSO.
“Jab hum kuch sacche dil se chaahte hain to poori kaynat hamien usse milane ki koshish mein lag jaati hai” – this is approximately on page 32 of the book, albeit in English.


Coming back to the love story that wasn’t – there is a foolishly touching feel to Deepika and SRK’s air together, only that the lady after sincerely and expectantly smiling at our man (but why did she smile) goes on to declare to the villain of the piece that she has been married to him for two years and is lovingly pregnant with his kid.

What the hell was she doing with such graceful innocence making a fool of SRK and us in the process? The farce changes from till now being a transactional one, to an emotional one at this point.

And that is where all the love in the film is gone – never to be rediscovered.
Not even with the entry of Sandy in Om’s life – a Shanti look alike. We Indians know love is a subject matter between hearts and since there is no cardiac connection between the reborn SRK and the newfound Shanti look-alike, we feel no love between them.

A full time Bollywood masala movie failing on love – something is crazily wrong here.
So let’s rewind to the first life of Om and Shanti.

Not for a moment in the scenes where SRK and Deepika are together is the poor Indian front row viewer given a reason to believe she is only “Goods Friend” with him.
She smiles and is coy and gives her hand into SRK’s and lets snowflake laden exhaust fan wind blow her hair – unfair.

All of that is Indian film-ese for “they are falling in love”

Witness any love ballad in the last century in this country; all of the above is a movie goer’s shorthand to comprehend a long story in brief.
Dry leaves, wind, hair, smiles, coy looks = love is simmering under surface.
A bit like the popular nursery poem – who has seen the love, neither me nor you, but when maple leaves fly by heroine’s hair, love is passing through!

So when after giving us a glimpse of the fledgling love between Om and Shanti, Shanti in all sincerity now confesses marriage and pregnancy to Mukesh (Arjun Rampal), not only Om, but we experience a loss of balance.
What is this angelic looking woman about, we ask?
At this point, the film has lost its emotional feet.

Which inevitably it won’t be able to regain in the last shot – we will steadfastly not empathize with the heroine in the last scene when she wistfully looks at Om once more and drips an unrequited love tear.
Dammit, there was nothing between them to begin with.
And this emotional farce is a huge compromise on the power of the story.

Bar that there are other obvious gaffes too, but in the spirit of a great farce let’s allow the movie those ones.

And lets hum once more “Aankhon mein teri…ajab si, ajab si adaiyen hain”.
Hope floats.

Thought: Well, had sincere Shanti’s soul physically touched her foolishly lovable Om with Sandhya’s body as a medium, finally biding adieu in an emotional moment, we might have still cried – there would have been some love.

It has other implications on the story – primarily on how to give the villain enough reason to kill the heroine, and on how to transfer the ghost’s love to the woman who now lives – but those were tackle-able.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti.

play with wish
and play with hope
but pack suntan
or skin won't cope

play with breeze
and play with sand
under the blue sky
to set the scope

play with rain
and play with hails
for this is a game
that no one fails.

The cliff edge was sheer,
Above the valley’s deep recess.
I still went further; near,
But that strange gust of windiness
Pushed me back; fear

Did I have a death wish?

I thought I noticed a sparkle
In the valley steep,

Was it water, or was it a pearl?
It was infact… a girl.

Alone – whose eyes shone

I noticed her faraway smile
She seemed, free of guile; oh dear

No, I had a life wish
I paused
Stepped back
Closed my eyes

And leapt…

But I hit a wall!!!
Square in my face

A wall painted
With valleys, depths and space

I felt it
With my fingers
The valley still looked deep

Then as if to digress
That strange gust once again
Gave me a caress!

Could that be for real?

Smiled the girl
Even now!
Sparkled her eyes still
But how?

With tentative fingers
I felt her cheeks
The softness lingered
Like fur cutting rock in streaks.

arrey baba, i tell you only, all this penny pinching, terrible.

look up the newspaper today or tomorrows it saying the same things repeat.
i tell you this world and all is a project by the media wallas.
of saving costs.
repeating news of the same old rapes, murders i tell you.

we are watching the world in replay, by god of course.
birth - death - birth.
nothing brand-new has happened in the last arab-kharab years yaar.
happy burrday to you, happy burrday to you. aaj aapne kya khaya, aaj aapne kya banaya, aaj aapne kya khoya, aaj aapne kya paaya.
hain bhai, it is all same to same - daily.

even the saas bahus have understood the whole business of saving costs.
it's all about saving costs.
same saris, same paints on the walls, same dialogues, and of course same audience.
total cost savings.
end to end.

i know what the problem is.
it would take a totally naya naya actor to play honest, seedha sada, bhala karne walla and then for him we need new dialogues, arre too much confusion yaar nahin.
and all that means higher costs.
that's why we can afford so few of them, nahin.
sacchi i tell you let's keep it simple only.
she's sister of dimple nahin.
dimple kapadia.

ok tata. (don't say ciao, say tata)

There are people around the world who are going around asking the question - does God exist.
Does He?

One really doesn't know till one reaches a point where a loved one might be facing a situation, in which to help them might seem like beyond our day to day powers.
That's when we surrender, if we're lucky, to summon the powers that lie beyond us.

Powers that lie beyond us - or so we believe all the while - having effectively cut ourselves off from them in the first place by believing in the initial assumption of having power ourselves.

After all, all is explainable, right?

So, you are a multi-tasker.

You can...

1. Read an email
2. Write a cheque
3. Talk over the cell
4. Eat a multigrain low fat sandwich
5. Drink a zero cal cola
6. Say Yes/No to you secy...
...all at the same time.

You are a multi-tasker indeed.

Just look at your body for a moment.
What do you see?

A tummy, arms, legs...

Your body incidentally is made up of 7000,000,000,000 cells.
Don't count the zeros, that's 7 trillion.

7 trillion cells of different types.
Bone marrow.
Brain matter
Skin lining.
Follicle.

And there is stuff that happens inside each cell.
Approximately a few hundred reactions per second in each cell.

That's 7 gazillion reactions per second inside your body.

Coordinated by cells not even related to each other, such that...

you can visit the golf course,
attend the movie premier,
banish poverty from the world....
and also tell yourself that you are a cracking multi-tasker.

All this is coordinated by nature not just in the now, but across time too.

Even as your body renews itself every 7 years (all cells are replaced by new ones), it passes on an inherent natural intelligence so flawlessly...that the new one's which take over, act your age while being new borns themselves!
All that, while carrying on the fever pitch 7 gazillion reactions per second.

Look at what all that natural intelligence manages.

Keeps you alive.
Keeps your arrogance alive.
And does not make a fuss about it.

That must be multi-tasking indeed.

Yet a thought.

Do not test nature on it's capability to juggle.
Make it easy.

You cannot cut out staying alive.
Try cutting out the arrogance.

For running the rest comes naturally to nature.