chaotic order

Jottings : Slice of life - 30 In the midst of all the euphoria surrounding Rajnikanth’s “Kabali”, I can only sympathize and pity the Person Rajni who has to endure all this. This may sound very strange to you. When a movie has raked in 250 crores on its release, screened across 8000 theaters worldwide, watched almost with frenzied religious fanaticism by every section of Indian society; profusely written, spoken and reviewed about in all forms of media, Daily lives forced to come to standstill in major Indian cities and beyond to honor the occasion of his movie release, ardent fans flocking and stampeding into screening halls with milk, garlands and other ritualistic paraphernalia to propitiate their God incarnate( as he appears to them) each time he appears on Screen - like the resurrection of Jesus - praying for immortality of their beloved superstar, Families forsaking their humble earnings to get an invaluable ticket to watch the first show in the hope of attaining fulfillment

Jottings : Slice of Life - 27 “The Intern” I am quite picky about movies I watch. Not that I rationalize, sift through options or always rely on favorable reviews to decide on what I wish to watch, but I primarily base my choice upon a gut feel cultivated over years of watching all kinds of films with a critical eye than most of them would care to. My watchlist on Netflix or Amazon or other online movie providers runs into hundreds. These are movies aligned purely on educated instinct. If you ask me to explain why a particular movie is on the list, I would not be able to point my finger on any specific reason. In fact, I wouldn't even be able to substantiate my choice, but like a trained cabbie who knows which roads to avoid at what times, how to quickly assess traffic conditions and a keen nose for cars and directions, one learns to react to good pieces of art through a very mysterious process in the brain. In fact, Malcolm Gladwell, in his brilliant book, “Blink” begins wit

Jottings : Slice of life - 26 He was a young man clad In a blue flowing Kurta and black jeans. His eyes were wide and deep, nicely trimmed beard, and he had an expression of confidence on his face. It was around 7.00 PM in the evening; and weather in Downtown Bethesda was humid and hot as it has been this entire week. The young man was profusely sweating, constantly dabbing his face with a towel in his left hand and holding a crudely written placard in his hand, turning it this way and that way to catch the attention of pedestrians walking swiftly past him trying to get into a some kind of shade and respite from the heat. None paid any attention, and even if they unconsciously did, the message on his placard was really something they could not or would choose not to readily respond. It read “ I am a Muslim by heart and practice and a true American by birth and nurture. Pls spend few minutes talking to me, we will dissolve our differences..” I have been watching him for last few

Jottings: Slice of life – 25 “Orlando” - a novel by Virginia Woolf To define the kind of person and writer Virginia Woolf was - is extremely difficult. Not because, she is difficult to categorize, or pin down to a particular genre of writing, or because her works are often personal ruminations, splintered sparks of consciousness clothed in prose, or because her stories are born out of deep depression, melancholia which afflicted her for most part of fertile literary life, or because she was a feminist who believed deeply that a woman can produce peerless works of fiction only when she is relieved of economic, moral and social necessities of life and living, hence her novels were always punctuated by women who strove for independence within and without. She is difficult to define because she was a genius, a rare flower of the twentieth century, for whom words weren’t mere dictionary jottings, but real, tangible, tactile sensations. Very few Women writers have so enamored the liter

Jottings: Slice of life - 24 Alvin Toffler ( 1928 - 2016) If you were in your teens during the eighties, and interested in ideas; then it is unlikely that you would not have read "Future shock" by Alvin Toffler, published in 1970 - one of the most influential books on the progress and direction of Human civilization as we approached the twenty first century. It was one of the first books which bought into focus technology not merely as a means to an end, but as a revolution penetrating and redefining the very structure, relationship and meaning of social life. When Toffler talked about Internet, cable Television, robotics and genetic engineering then, it seemed eerie ,quite unbelievable and downright impossible . But nearly half a century later, his words, thoughts and vision ring ominously true, and more so, seem to be vindicating the pervasive presence of a "Third wave"- a new way of human living after the agricultural and Industrial waves that preceded it -

Jottings : Slice of life – 23 Notes from SanFranscisco I was having dinner the day before yesterday at Roy’s, San Francisco with Mark, a senior Architect with over thirty years of experience in the networking space. First, a few words about Roy’s, and then to core purpose of this post. If ever there is a prize for an expensive, most courteous and arguably the best Sea food place in America, I am sure Roy’s will be a top contender. Last year, when I was in Honolulu, I was taken to Roy’s, and the taste of Mahi Mahi served there still irresistibly lingers on my taste buds. Chef Roy Yamaguchi needs no introduction to connoisseurs of food. Not only is he one of the most delectable, competent and innovative chef’s in America today, with over thirty restaurants; he is also an eminent TV personality, philanthropist and social entrepreneur. Legend has it, that if Roy cooks, even the most tasteless piece of meat or vegetable turns into ambrosia and acquires immortality. Anyway, his Hawaiian

Jottings: slice of life -22 It’s a great mystery on how we fragment, apportion our love to different people at different times in our lives. We ensure our boundaries of affection are clear, at least, our upbringing indoctrinates us to believe they are very clear. Between Husband and wife, friend and lover, friend and family, sons and daughters – the lines are firmly drawn. Even if our instincts deep down propels us to cross those limits, we are tied down. I call it mysterious because these fences are fictitious, thought made and have no real basis biologically or otherwise; and our desperate attempt to stick to them like leech to skin seems so incongruous and stressful. There is no way in the world we can control what we feel. The idiom “be true to yourself” is the greatest lie propagated. Because, if each one of us were to be so, society as we know it wouldn’t exist. Now what else would take its place. We don’t know. We can only conjecture, but all of us would like to believe that