The Bridge Over Untroubled Waters?

3:25 AM

"To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower:
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour."
        - William Blake

The bridge was his favourite “my place” in the town. He loved to go and stand by its iron railings, whatever the weather. The warmth from pristine sun rays created a shade of chocolate to his black hair. However rare an occurrence, it was a memory he came to associate with warmth ever since. There was water, a vast expanse of it as far as one could see, and then there were trees, with 
leaves of all colours and some without any – fall had set in. And every time he used his camera to take pictures of the place, he went back home to discover something new. Something that the unassuming gaze of his eyes had missed but the detail hungry viewfinder of his camera probably hadn’t. This time was no different. Browsing through his pictures for the day, he saw one, of 
chains, locked in place, to the railing.

Andrew loved memories. Memories preserved in the chronological order of their occurrence. They grew vague with time, he tended to forget a few of them and added a few imaginary ones, and ended up with a rather interesting story of his own, but he loved them, nonetheless – memories. And that probably was the reason for his love for photography. The pictures were the method to his madness and helped him keep the “my stories” in order. Well, just about.
He was still staring at this particular photograph on his iPad when he saw the time. He had to call up his family back home. It was their weekly tradition ever since he had moved away. They waited for his call at this hour each Sunday evening; so that they could hear from him and ensure that he 
was well. The chains reminded him of the family. They never wanted to let him go.

“There’s a lot of things you can photograph here.” They'd exclaim. “Nobody is ever going to stop you. And you can learn all you want over the internet. Why do you need to go to a foreign land to be a photographer, of all the things in the world!?” 

But he was a free spirit, Andrew. In his mind, he had charted his path, the trajectory, the course, all the mathematics that a migratory bird figures out in its brain before it sets out for warmer 

He called them up, exchanged pleasantries as usual and then let them know he was fine. His mother asked him if he was eating well, if he had made any new friends and if he was avoiding bad company. These were routine questions with routine replies that he had on the tips of his finger, like 
the mud sticking out of his unkempt nails. They had been talking about ten minutes and at the back of his mind, he knew he'd be done with the ordeal soon, to go back to his pictures and the chains. Just when he decided to say goodbye and hang up, his father asked about his work. That wasn't a 
part of the script! They hated his work for all that he did. It was the very reason for this call, which would not have happened otherwise.

“I’m doing well, Dad.” Said Andrew, in an exaggerated tone. “You need to be really creative with this stuff, think different, and give routine happenings a completely different perspective, but I'm trying my best.”

It was probably the first time he had talked to his father about work. His kind of work.

“I’m sure you are. You don’t give up easily, do you? I got a Facebook account now. Show me those pictures when you have the time.”

His father had never been that interested in pictures. His pictures. Andrew was about to say that he was a professional photographer and didn’t deem it right to share them over Facebook, but he was too overwhelmed to say anything.

“Sure thing, Dad. I'll share them all! Take care.”

As he disconnected the call and looked at the roof to soak in all that had happened, he looked back at his iPad. The chains. There were so many of them, and they all had different locks.

“Maybe it’s a cycle stand for the enthusiasts?”

But he had never seen a bicycle parked around that place.

“I should go back to see what it is!” Andrew thought to himself.

It was cold and dark outside. He stole a glance at the thermometer mounted outside his window. 

“Four degrees below zero? Makes it all the more interesting.”

He wore that wry smile that had been missing for a while now; fastened his coat, picked up his camera, and closed his apartment door behind him as he left.

A closer look at the spot helped. But so did a different perspective. It was the lover’s point. How had he missed it of all the things in the world! The hopelessly-in-love had wished for their love to be locked up securely, away from all the troubles of the world. She ought to be here as well. With him. Ruby would love it. To be here; locking away their love for each other in a secure, safe, warm place.

Ten years down the line...

“So, can I take the blindfold off me now?” Ruby asked Andrew, as he finally made her stop and turn a little to her left.

She had been made to walk, blindfolded, for what seemed to her like an eternity. But it seemed like they were where he wanted her to be. Having waited for a reply to her question, she couldn’t be the patient one anymore, and pulled the scarf off her eyes.

“Wow! This is beautiful.” She gushed, as she saw the rusted chains and the locks tying them in place.

“Why didn't I ever see a picture of this?”

“This is where I realised how looking at things differently helps. And I wanted you to see it for real!”
“You could have at least told me about it. I don't have anything to tie here.” She didn’t seem to like the fact that seeing is all that she was going to be doing.

“But, I have this.”

He held a key in front of her puzzled face. Her hand mechanically opened as he placed it in the centre of her palm.

“Now all you need to do is look for a lock with your name on it.” 

“You've already tied one on the bridge?”


“What! Where? What colour is it then?” “I don't really remember the colour."

“Oh, gosh. Some love that is.”

“There were a lot less of these when I was here last time!”

“Sometimes, you're stupid.”

“I know. Now, make a wish and throw the key in the water.” 

“But I want to see our padlock first.”

“I have another padlock.” 


“In my bag.”

“Since when?”

“Since you called me stupid. Come on.” “What? Where are we going?”

“Start a love-lock bridge elsewhere.” 


“You can choose. Well, from a few options that I have in my mind.”

“Crafty. But, why does your camera always have to come along with us, too.” 

Listening to: Bridge over Troubled Water

Dedicated to: Simon and Garfunkel

Images Courtesy: asdClicks - that's what I plan to call my soon to be launched photo blog.

PS: The story helped me score a cent percent score in my creative writing course at JYU. Close to my heart? Hell yeah!

Read On 2 reflected back...

Thank You Sachin

5:05 PM

"It seems while Time was having his toll on every individual on the face of this planet, he excused one man. Time stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. We have had champions, we have had legends, but we have never had another Sachin Tendulkar and we never will."
        - Time Magazine

I was listening to the lecturer talk about cloud based software when a customary glance at my phone gave me the goosebumps. India were about to start batting, because well, West Indies had folded yet again. More importantly, there was time, ample time, for Sachin Tendulkar to come out to bat. One last time, in all probability. And just like that, out of nowhere, the very nice Finn that my lecturer is, he told us he was done for the day, and we could go our ways and meet again next week. Actually, he said a lot more. But I probably wasn't listening that well. The universe had conspired to let me watch him bat - one last time?I grabbed my jacket and a zillion other winter accessories that you probably need to don before venturing into the cold and set home on my bicycle. Thinking about it on the way, took me back in time. 

I used to be this chubby school kid who loved rushing home from school, on his bicycle to watch Tendulkar bat in one of those numerous day-night one dayers in Sharjah. Stopping on the way back to ask a shopkeeper the score and sighing with relief after hearing him say, "Tendulkar maar reha hai!". I still am a student. I still ride a bicycle. And if the Finns had arbitrarily planned shops around roads, I'd still have stopped by to ask if Tendulkar had come out to bat (I did that on my phone anyway). Sixteen years on, nothing seems to have changed. Time indeed stands frozen in front of Sachin Tendulkar. 

I don't really remember when I started liking cricket. In fact, now that I think about it, I never quite did. It was Sachin that I began following and cricket was just a part of the parcel. There are various theories to why we Indians are so fond of cricket. We lack the stamina for real sport probably? And for a billion people believed to be good with numbers and mathematics, cricket offers all the statistics that let you take your mental mathematics to a different level altogether. My mother would absolutely vouch for that fact. But yeah, Tendulkar had me hooked on. So much so, that I valued watching him play more than India winning. A victory was just an icing on the cake called a Tendulkar century. Every season of my life that I can reflect back on, has a corresponding Tendulkar memory attached to it. Like the summers spent half-camping in Palampur, where a radio did it's best to explain to me how an emotional Tendulkar reacted after scoring a century, when he had just returned from his father's funeral. Or watching him flatten the egos out off Pakistan's famous pace trio during the '03 World Cup, a moment that gave me a much required inspiration to get out of the rut and finally pass my exams. And those hilariously predictable days when he'd get into the 90s and you'd know he's going to walk any moment now, teaching you how important it is to keep trying, every damn time, no matter what. 

My Tendulkar memories are about his success and failures and not India's because for me he was the superhero that I looked up to. In a team sport, he came out as the self-assured figure full of calm and a quite will. There was this short period of time when Saurav Ganguly almost managed to discover the cricket lover in me, but he couldn't quite succeed. I sometimes question myself, why I couldn't come to like another cricketer if not cricket. It's probably because none of them have been such phenomenal show men, and the ones that probably are, are just too inhuman. The idea of a Virat Kohli pumping fists, after scoring a century before opening up with choicest of expletives just doesn't appeal to me. When did I last see Sachin pump his fists, if at all? Probably when he foxed a batsmen with his leg-spin. Bowling was something that he wasn't supposed to be good at, batting was a routine - not to be celebrated. 

There is a lot I'd like to remember Tendulkar for. The drives, the upper-cuts, the smile, the weird short paced sprint, the awkward stance... and the list goes on. The slight raise of the bat with eyes saying thank you to the heavens, before coming back to mortal life and acknowledging the crowd. That, is the moment I'd like to take with me to sleep when looking for inspiration. They call him God, master, genius and a few other things. I don't know which of these I can actually relate to - he was fallible, gullible and pretty much human. Somebody who tried hard and harder than each last try. He was Sachin. 

I got back to my apartment and managed to find a live stream, just in time to watch the on-drive unleashed. The stumps were drawn soon, and I set my alarm for the next day's start of play, Indian Standard Time. The alarm never rang, I never woke up to see him score a few more and walk back, and I'll not try to search for the highlights. As somebody who lives a life that relies heavily on Sachin Tendulkar moments for inspiration, I'd like to live the rest of my life thinking about the on drive - give it back to life as hard as it comes at you.

Listening to: Bonfire Heart, James Blunt

Dedicated to: Doesn't need mentioning

Images Courtesy: Google Image Search

PS: I finally got my act together to write a tribute. Just in time I believe. 

Read On 2 reflected back...

Keep at It

3:25 PM

"It is not wanting to win that makes you a winner; it is refusing to fail."
        - Unknown

Let there be trees around,
Mighty, Dense, Shady.
Don't you dare beg for shade,
Not even a leaf's worth of it,
No, Never.
And continue treading your path,
The path of honesty,
The path of truth,
The path of fire.

Thou shall not tire,
Thou shall not halt,
Thou shall not regress,
Swear on thyself, O Warrior!
Swear that you will tread your path,
The path of fire.

There is none so colossal a spectacle
As, of the man treading his path,
Soaked in a sublime rain,
Of tears, sweat and blood.
And yet trudging,
Treading his path,
of truth, of honesty,
The path, of fire. 

This is the translation, or to put it more aptly, my interpretation of Agneepath by Harivansh Rai Bachchan.

The original, written in Hindi in the Devanagari script reads as follows:


वृक्ष हों भले खड़े,
हों घने, हों बड़े,
एक पत्र छाँह भी
मांग मत! मांग मत! मांग मत!
अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

तू न थकेगा कभी,
तू न थमेगा कभी,
तू न मुड़ेगा कभी,
कर शपथ! कर शपथ! कर शपथ!
अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

यह महान दृश्य है,
चल रहा मनुष्य है,
अश्रु, स्वेद, रक्त से
लथ-पथ, लथ-पथ, लथ-पथ,
अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

English transliteration: 


Vriksh hon bhale khade,
Hon ghane, hoh bade,
Ek patra chhah bhi
Maang mat! Maang mat! Maang mat!
Agneepath! Agneepath! Agneepath!

Tu na thakega kabhi,
Tu na thamega kabhi,
Tu na mudega kabhi,
Kar shapath! Kar shapath! Kar shapath!
Agneepath! Agneepath! Agneepath!

Yeh mahaan drishya hai,
Chal raha manushya hai
Ashru, swed, rakt se
Lath-path, lath-path, lath-path,
Agneepath! Agneepath! Agneepath!

Listening to: Don't Stop Believin', Glee Cast

Dedicated to: All wannabe poets, who ended up translating the greats.

Images Courtesy: This one is from my camera!

P.S.This is my second class assignment for XENX041 Creative Writing in English.  And the assignment is - Translate a poem from your mother tongue into English. Also write in English a summary of the poem and answer these questions: What message does the poem convey? What emotions does it engender? What mental images does it create (including sound, smell, taste, touch, sight)?

Read On 3 reflected back...

The Patient Doctor

2:46 PM

"There's an opposite to déjà vu. They call it jamais vu. It's when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first. Everybody is always a stranger. Nothing is ever familiar."
        - Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

I was standing at the bus stop when I saw her approach from the far end. Her face was red with cold and the brown eyes looked like a lake about to freeze. She was sneezing every now and then. Poor little thing. She opened her bag to pull out a strip of tablets from her rather huge bag. Looked like paracetamol. And then a bottle of water. But then she threw it away in a fit of rage. Yeah, they deliver bad luck in dollops these days, gift wrapped and all. 

Just as she moved around to zip the bag up, this Greek warrior's helmet tumbled out of it and fell to the ground. Not an authentic metal piece really. But that wasn't the case with the mortar and pestle set that came out next. It looked like the one from my grand mother's kitchen. Maybe I could tell her a trick or two with the natural herbs to get rid of the cold? 

As the bus arrived, and people began boarding, I began thinking of all the natural cures I knew that could be of any help to her. She boarded the bus and sat next to me. Destiny? No! Get on with the job doctor. 

The bus came to a halt with a jerk bringing me back from my reverie. The seat next to me was empty. So was the whole bus. But there it was, right next to me, the big black bag.

Listening to: Waterloo Sunset, The Kinks

Dedicated to: My classmates at XENX041 - Creative Writing in English.

Images Courtesy: Google Image Search

PS: This is my first class assignment for the afore mentioned course. And the writing prompt was - Reconstruct the owner of this bag (and possibly their day leading up to this event). Also, how did the bag end up here in the classroom and where is the owner? 

Read On 2 reflected back...

A Finnish Fall

2:00 PM

In the dim background of our mind, we know what we ought to be doing but somehow, we cannot start.
        - William James

How do I start? It's been way too long. Nobody probably comes back to the iNFINITY to read any more. 
But I need to begin somewhere because I really want to. Come back and write i.e. 

A lot has changed in the time gone by. And I'm not really going to elaborate here. I worked, gave up on writing and then decided to stop working to study some more. One last time maybe? Who knows. 
And then I decided to join this creative writing class at the university where I'm studying. No, it has nothing to do with what I am studying, it's all what I've always wanted to do. 

As part of my tasks in the class, I need to write and post it somewhere? That is when I decided to come back here. To the iNFINITY. Right. Nothing can be more interesting than writing blog posts for home work!

I plan to write frequently. Homework mostly, but other stuff at times, as well. If you readers do come back, you'll be able to connect with me as time goes by. And for the new ones, well, rewind in time and you'll probably know better. 

Must go on to do the homework now. And until we meet again...
Moi Moi

(Yes. I'm in Finland!) 

Listening to: Baker Street, Gerry Rafferty

Dedicated to: The Sun shining outside my window. Never loved it so much.

Images Courtesy: Google Image Search

Read On 0 reflected back...

Back to Bedlam

3:11 PM

To think the world therefore a general Bedlam, or place of madmen, and oneself a physician, is the most necessary point of present wisdom: an important imagination, and the way to happiness.
        - Thomas Traherne

That, sums it up, I believe. I have lost count of the number of things / people / processes / results I have tried being during the time I have been away from writing in here. 

There are those you believe genuinely care for you, of course there's no way of knowing unless you are good at looking trough the soul. So you either believe, or you don't. Then there are those who want to know, know it all. Like well informed citizens of the republic, just that you happen to be the subject of their concern, awkwardly, almost day in and day out. And then there are the paparazzi sans cool imaging devices, working for fancy little tabloids of their own mind. To their credit, they work hard, have a huge majority and coordinate and cooperate well for their numbers, and yes, they get you - all the time.

I fell prey too. To some of the above or now when I look at it, all of the above kind of people. Tried doing things. Nay, tried making them happen ahead of time, out of nowhere maybe. Of course the world goes by what it sees, and that notion gets to you every now and then. It did get to me. 

It might get to me again. 

For now though, I'm back to bedlam. So come on over all you foolish people. Those who need the therapy and those who don't. Because I, for one, am the master of me again, and for now, I'm doing things - my way.

Of course life is bizarre, the more bizarre it gets, the more interesting it is. The only way to approach it is to make yourself some popcorn and enjoy the show.

Listening to: Anyone Else But You, Juno OST

P. S. No dedications for now but a small thank you to James Blunt. Yup, that blog post title is stolen :)


Read On 4 reflected back...

One for the cause

8:16 PM

Of late, I have been looking for excuses to get back to blogging. Yesterday, a good one arrived in my mailbox. Here's what a mail i was forwarded via says:

One of India’s most trusted and credible NGOs, GiveIndia is taking part in a competition on Facebook to win a US$1 million grant. The winner will be the NGO that gets the highest number of votes from Facebook users. The prize of $1 million will help put or keep 40,000 children across India in school for one year!

Voting in the competition is for one week only, from Friday, January 15 – Friday, January 22, 2010. Can we make a difference in the next 5 days? We sure hope so!

The link for voting, where you can also see more details of the competition is

Something you can easily take time of for while online for one of your countless social networking session... GO VOTE!

Listening to: Back Home Again, John Denver

P. S. Hell yeah! I'm back for sure :)

Read On 2 reflected back...

A momentary lapse INTO reason

8:06 PM

All our reasoning ends in surrender to feeling.
        - Blaise Pascal  

As it slides across the frame each morning,
While I am still asleep, snoaring
It sure does get my thoughts bowling,
as I toss around in the bed moaning,
swearing at, what, of late, has become, 
My window to the world.

Fowls have got food to gather
Yet another day for mutts to fight the weather
cabbies readying to tain their patrons
The teacher readying to play the matron
The milkman, the guard, even the garbage guy 
are kings when balancing the lemon on their spoon.
Why me, just me, did you single out O stupid fireball, 
to burn through on thy wheel of fortune?

Ain't there a code of misconduct you ought to say?
Ain't there a game to play afore your prey?
Is that how plain you get to decide my destiny?
Shouldn't your ways be the cause for my mutiny?
Questions fly around in disarray - questions absurd,
as I finaly sit up and look out to the horizon,
far and out, through my, window to the world...

 Listening to: Let's Make a Night, Bryan Adams, The Best Of Me

Dedicated to: Sitting in my room today, I just realised this huge sliding french window is something I have never really noticed, although I've been rotting in here for like five months now. The post by the way, is dedicated to Jaadoo, someone who loved sliding windows... :P


Read On 2 reflected back...

My DD moment

5:55 PM

India's grand old entertainer, Doordarshan celebrated it's Golden jubilee last week. Yeah, it's celebrating fifty years of it's existence as India's official broadcaster. No, I don't watch Doordarshan or in fact much of TV for that matter... I came to know about it from a private FM channel again.

The radio jockey was going all praise over DD turning 50 and asking listeners to phone in and tell everyone about their favourite DD moment. The faint first memories that I have of myself watching DD are glimpses from the everybody at home assembling in front of the TV for watching there favourite Buniyaad go a step farther. [Yes, Ekta Kapoor neither invented nor discovered family dramas.] Of course I remember Shanti too, Mandira Bedi never got tired of coming back on to the screen every afternoon, day after day after day. [UTV again beat Ekta Kapoor to daily soaps] And then there was Sports Broadcasts, whether it was the Hero Cup, The 1996 Wills World Cup, Leander Paes's bronze at Atlanta Olymics of '96 or Zidane's moment of glory at Fifa '08. DD was here there and everywhere, juggling time and resources pretty efficiently I'd say. 

Having a 'Cable Connection' was considered something elite and taboo at the same time at the lunch break conversations of us 7th graders. 

And then things began to change. Cable TV became as much about Discovery, BBC and National Geographic as it was about Star World and AXN. You just had to have it to have a taste of 'The World'. WWF(E) was never a DD trademark and so wasn't Prannoy Roy's NDTV. And the good old terrestial antenna caught in the web of cable signals carrying coaxial wires, slowly lost it's esteemed place atop the rooftops. You had to have 5 different Sports, News, Family Entertainment, Movie and Foreign channels to complete a TV viewing experience. [I do love cable TV for ESPN, HBO and WB though.]  

And slowly, DD was left to be that official broadcaster of the nation that nobody had the time to see.Of course it isn't anywhere near with regards to quality of the content or presentation that we have on the Satellite channels. And who needs to be blamed for that, is anybody's guess..

So what's my favourite DD moment? Quite a few come to mind when I think of that... 

  • One fine afternoon, you could only see the pictures and not hear anything. I later got to know that Rajiv Gandhi had been assassinated. Don't know how, but I happen to remember that. 
  • Of course being home on Sunday mornings to watch Jungle Book, Duck Tales and Tales Pin is something I can't forget. I still cant find a Cartoon channls that airs those shows. 
  • Some of the really well presented social service messages that were aired after every hour or so. Remember "एक चिडिया - अनेक चिडिया" and "मिले सुर मेरा तुम्हारा" ?  

  • Watching the friday night movies that went on for about 5 hours thanks to the plethora of advertisements that DD used to get back then. 
  • Buying a Radio that broadcast DD so that I didn't miss '99 WC during my summer sojourn at Palampur, where we didn't have a TV.

  • Remember the "Sorry for Interruption  - रुकावट के किये खेद है" screen that used to pop up so often? It became a part of the Indian legend and folklore for ever. Modern day satellite channels hang up too, it's just that they aren't courteous enough! 

Well none of these happen to be the actual DD moment for me. It's way too recent, when I lamented India's early exit at ICC WC '07 and decided to do something about it. So I got a TV Tuner card from my uncle's and we built a special set top dipole antenna, that could easily catch the free-to-air DD terrestial signals. And sure enough, I witnessed India's triumph at the ICC World T20 right there in my room, without a cable wire. And to this day, I haven't been able to decide what satisfied me more...

So what's you DD moment? Come on, say!  

Listening to: Feelin' Way Too Damn Good, Nickelback, The Long Road

Dedicated to: That big terrestrial antenna that once brought home Doordarshan. Gosh I miss you :P 


Read On 9 reflected back...

All about WEIRD analogies

12:14 PM
Analogies, it is true, decide nothing, but they can make one feel more at home. 
      - Sigmund Freud
Life's all about analogies they say. Comparisons with the past, living up to the present, planning the future - it's all about analogies. Peers, who's who, role models, siblings all set examples for you and sometimes maybe, you want to give it back to them. 

What if the examples come from weird sources. What if you need to read a handbook or manual when a certain analogy or it's premise seems to be way over the top? Surveys show responses might vary. [Yes I've conducted a thorough survey of my own, alright.] 

You might do one of the following - 
  • Ridicule the whole thing, abuse and move on.
  • Ridicule the whole thing and move on.
  • Don't feel like wasting your precious time even though you find it interesting
  • Go buy and lookup that damn manual, because you so want to get to the root of it. 
If you do belong to the one of the last two crowds - chances are you might just want to check out this new storehouse of weird analogies on the www.

winZoo's own home on the internet, he calls it, Living Like Windows

Happens to be a self confessed techie's foray into the market of troubleshooting [hold you breath...] people's lives, the geek way.

I do have some more inside scoops on the supposed next big philanthropic help site on the www. [That was the customary spoiler alert.] But winZoo hasn't paid me enough to advertise his new venture that well. So this is where I leave you wondering.

And by the way, the launch is tomorrow evening  - Friday the 4th. Do pay a customary visit to enhance my chances of a fat commission check. And No, you needn't blast me in here on my blog if you don't like what you see in there. I'm just a shrewd businessman making some money for myself. (Did I tell you I share my birthday with Bill Gates?) :P

Listening to: I'm a Liar, Bryan Adams - A Day Like Today

Dedicated to: winZoo... 'coz I'm being paid to do it!

P.S. This is an advert and philanthropy is the subject matter of the solicitation. :P

Read On 6 reflected back...

Heartbreak at it's very best.

10:52 PM

When I'd planned on a comeback posting schedule with my previous post, this was not where I'd decided to start. But some things are best done unplanned, and this seemed one of them. [Don't ask me about the others ;)]

It all started a day before, I guess, when I read an article on the Bomaby Times front page, by, errrr... Saif Ali Khan. It was about a childhood friend, who happened to be a cute girl. The kids never saw each other because Saif's parents shifted base and the poor boy had just a photograph of his friend as a memory...

Brought back memories of my childhood. Lotsa friends in the town that I was born and the next one, where I grew up, whose names I don't really remember and faces i faintly do. But I'd surely love to give it a try to go see them after like, 20 odd years...

Anyways, back to today, when I was watching Neil Patrick Harris, the How I Met Your Mother star [well for me he's a real life guru, that all senti guys should have] , on Star World, when this advertisement for Airtel Digital TV went on air.

Hmmm... Saif Ali Khan's article, it turned out was a gimmick (which I had kinda guessed) for this very add. But that's where it becomes rather touchy. He somehow finds the girl thanks to the photograph, a locket, and Airtel Digital TV and serendipity of course. But, just when he's about to rush to the girl (who apparently anticipates something exciting too, given the look on Saif's face), Kareena Kapoor enters the frame. (yes, from nowhere!) Poor loyal [?] lover boy Saif quietly slips the photograph of his childhood sweetheart into his back pocket and moves towards Kareena... while the girl he had been searching for so long, too curbs her excitement and moves away... the whole scene ends with the background jingle... Dil Titli... Dil Titli Sa. (The heart's a butterfly) [the translation because I believe my blog does have some readership abroad! lol]

I don't really want to comment more on the advertisement. How I felt about it? Well, I haven't really written about an advertisement here on THE iNFINITY, so you can probably guess. Watching it I felt that I won't like to go through it all ever, although deep inside I know I make similar choices everyday, thanks to my heart that flutters like a butterfly, all the time.

Though there's one thing about he advertisement I can't stop myself from saying. Kareena Kapoor in the role of her life, as the evil vamp! She should do more such roles... looks good in those. [She still remains one my favourite on screen actresses for her role in Jab We Met.]

This post was never meant to be and I still end up writing a truly boring autopsy for an advertisement... hmmm. Dil Titli... Dil Titli Sa.

Listening to: The title track from Dil Bole Hadippa. How does Titli Bole Hadipa sound like?

Dedicated to: The Titli that our hearts are.

P.S. The blog entry is in no way an endorsement of Airtel Digital TV. I could have used a generic name, but that would have spoilt the fun. I still watch TV through my good old cablewallah by the way...

Images Courtesy: Google and deviantART

Update: My post was quicker than even youtube. Anyways, found the video for this advert on youtube just now... check it out if you didn't already see on TV.

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Thus spoke the wor(l)dly wise

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