If Turtles Could Fly!

A birthday usually means getting together with friends and bringing the house down. And when you have two surfers sharing the honour of a common birthday, the party has to be double the fun! So this time around, the plan was a day picnic to a location previously undiscovered around the precincts of Delhi NCR region. A few hours drive from any part of Delhi, the venue was an idyllic picnic spot called Turtle Farm Resort in Manesar. We hit the Delhi-Jaipur highway by 9 am and after a brief stopover at a McDonalds outlet on the way for a power breakfast, we made good speed to reach the location by 11 am.

Slightly off track from the highway, you need to keep your eyes out for Uppal Farms and take a dash towards the left off the highway to hit a rough dirt track with sunflower fields before you finally see farm houses with massive gates to your left. A short drive down this road takes you to B-14, Turtle Farm Resort. What hits you immediately as you enter is the greenery and the well maintained infrastructure. The reception is an example of desi chic with art work and design inspired by North Indian and Rajasthani folk lore. A grand stairway on both sides takes you up to the rather steeply priced duplex rooms at the resort.

A welcome breakfast of tea and sandwiches awaited us but we preferred going ahead to explore the location further, happily satiated on our burgers at McD’s. The boys being boys hit the cricket lawn where they quickly teamed up with another group of boys to play a round of cricket leaving us girls on the sidelines. Much sweat and grime later, we were ready to hit the poolside where a mini waterfall and a rain shower with a DJ awaited us. Very soon, other groups joined in, dancing, swimming, playing, drinking and enjoying a tasty barbecue on the side. The summer heat bore down on us making us take refuge in the pool for hours, and I doubt any of us regretted it! It was only at 3 pm that we finally pulled ourselves out for a lavish lunch with bhindi, mixed vegetable, dahi vada, papad, pulao, rotis/naan and chicken, topped with piping gulab jamuns. After such a heavy meal, it was time to head indoors for games like carrom and table tennis and before we knew it, it was time to head home! A quick chai session and a last pic of us together later, we drove away from the resort with lots of happy moments to savour in the form of memories. 

Overall, this is a place where you can enjoy with a group of youngsters given the kind of activities they offer but if you are planning a family get together, think twice as there is not much to do for aunties and uncles, mummys and papas and senior citizens. If you are really keen on taking your folks along, try the resorts in Shogi, Narkanda or Dalhousie also maintained by Aamod who run this resort. As for Turtle Farm Resort, it’s a decent daytime getaway for a bunch of indulgent youngsters.

Note: Make sure you go at a time when the weather is favourable.

Give us some Relief from this Fund!

Calamities can strike big and destroy all in its wake. No matter how powerful man becomes, nature has a cruel way of justifying its presence. The recent floods in Uttarakhand further confirmed the hatred that mankind has been calling upon itself with the numerous sins we commit in the name of religion. Even the Gods couldn’t take it and finally unleashed their wrath on the unassuming pilgrims out on their chardham- one of the most coveted journeys undertaken by devout Hindus at least once in their lifetime. Old men and women, pregnant ladies, handicapped citizens, toddlers and newborns- none were excused as the raging rivers plundered and took away lives, saving little and sparing none. The damage caused is a testament to the fact that we are indeed more vulnerable than we think in the hands of fate. And yet, we don’t learn do we? If we go by the news, widespread corruption in the midst of funds trickling in, child trafficking and rape incidents are also feared apart from the outbreak of disease and loss of property earlier estimated in the state. There is no end to the evil in our disposition and in a dog-eat-dog world where every man is fighting for the survival of the fittest, it seems just another day in the life of India. 

In the face of such calamities, every citizen of this country is asked to take a stand. Donate for the cause of the victims’ rehabilitation. The Government we are told, is doing everything in its might to turn the tide and revive the livelihood and infrastructure as soon as possible which is an estimated three years. The Army is engaged in emergency operations to save as many lives as possible. And the ordinary citizens of the country are requested to pledge their support though financial contributions which will help the victims caught in the terrible quagmire. All is well as it may seem when it comes to disaster management. But hey wait, are we missing the bigger picture here? Why is it that time and again, whenever such natural calamities strike are we middle class people invoked to dispense with some cash? Pardon me if I seem to be sounding a tad too heartless but my intention is to know why we are a class that is taken for granted. 

A class that is learning to cope with the recent recession by probably being stuck in jobs we would love to give up but can’t because most of us are breadwinners. A class that is probably facing the worst inflationary situation in decades with the fluctuating rupee. A class that has to bear the brunt of rapidly increasing fuel prices everytime we take our car out. A class that must pay its bills after getting its meagre salary cut by taxes. A class which must pay heavy VAT charges everytime it drinks out. A class which must struggle for its pension after retirement. A class for which the current situation in the upper North region has already meant insanely escalating prices of vegetables and fruits, making it think twice about the next meal on the table. And yet, we are the class who are looked upon to save the victims of every flood, famine, storm, tsunami and what not. If poverty is like facing imminent death everyday, belonging to the middle class section of society is like a living curse daily. You are answerable for every expense you make, saving in the face of a zillion EMIs becomes an impossible task and the thought of retired parents, medical emergencies and family planning can send us in to a tizzy. And yet, we are the class that is considered to have the luxury of a surplus which we are supposed to shell out in the name of relief funds for the victims of so and so. This while corrupt politicians, indifferent billionaires and Bollywood celebrities sitting pretty in their 100 crore clubs in this country make merry while the sun shines.

Who is being victimized here, I want to know please. Or is victimizing one section of society to cope with the damage caused to another is this country’s accepted way of tackling with disasters of every nature? Please don’t assume my heart doesn’t go out to the flood ravaged citizens of Uttarakhand. Any help I can provide in person or in kind is my way of reaching out to them. But that’s about it as I myself am a daily victim of this very society we live in, disaster or no disaster and in the urban milieu, unfortunately, every man must look out for his own survival first and then the rest of the world. We live in such times and there is no escaping this fact. To be financially sound, one has to be financially able oneself and as far as that goes, judging by the economic uncertainty in this country, we are standing on unpredictable and rocky terrain at present so please, give me some relief from this fund!

Out of the Blue!

It really was never ever part of my plan,
And that’s not to say you are not an attractive man.

But little did I ever think I would fall for you.

Just like that one day, out of the blue!

I used to be sure of myself, I knew what to do

But something strange happened when it came to you.

You broke my boundaries, pushed me to let go-

Now there are no limits, inhibitions or fears we know.

Life is a cruise with lots of sunshine and rain,

As long as your hand holds mine, I feel no pain.

Where we go from here only time will tell,

But as long as I can, I will love you well!

MY FILMOLOGICAL JOURNEY

Several people often ask me one pertinent question, which is: Why are we such a film crazy nation? I still remember my first brush with cinema was going to the theatre with my Mom and Dad as an 8-9 year old kid. I was enthralled by the sound, the drama, the action and a formidably tall and larger than life persona who filled much of the screen and got whistled at every time he walked in to the frame. This was live pulsating Bollywood masala unleashed full throttle on an audience which could not get enough of it. The film was Shahenshah and I was hooked to the idea of escaping the humdrum of daily life to buy three hours of freedom to an unreal world with its unreal but oddly likeable characters. These people had emotions, laughed, fought, cried and yet always managed to make it all seem so much more entertaining than how it actually happened to us. Add to it some melodious music and hip cracking dance moves and you had complete paisa vasool time pass guaranteed. While most children in India like me are exposed to Hindi cinema from a young age thanks to movie watching being a family ritual in most Indian homes, I was fed an extra dose of the film industry with every mag from a Stardust to a Filmfare finding its way to my living room centre table, courtesy my Dad. So reading about celebrity news, interviews, gossip, trivia and latest happenings was part of my upbringing. It became a weekend hobby to flip through the pictures, read issues cover to cover and then give Mom, friends and anybody who was willing to lend a ear all the juicy tidbits worth savouring.

By the time I was a teenager, I knew I definitely liked movies and everything related to movie making. Dad’s weekend routines of catching a night show of the latest blockbuster in town transformed to a weekend outing with friends pitching in pocket money that had been saved for this purpose. As a kid growing up in the 90s, I was also subjected to a lot of music sessions- from the Sunday Chitrahaar and B/W classic melodies to the poignant songs of Lata and Rafi on Dad’s old LP player. After the LP became obsolete came an invasion of cassettes of films that will always be memorable for their music. I remember listening to the albums of Aashiqui, Maine Pyar Kiya and Khamoshi on repeat mode on several rainy evenings at home when there was nothing to do but to eat fries accompanied by a cup of tea with lilting music in the backdrop, watching the rain slide down the window pane. 

Then came the urge to put my vocal chords to the task of mastering a few melodious gems myself. A fan of Kavita Krishnamoorthy and Chitra, I remember trying to sing like them and venting my heart out on stage at the Hindi music fest in college in solo, duet and group renditions of popular Hindi songs organised by the Hindi department of St.Xavier’s College. Many a Hindi film have also made for a pleasant date movie but I remember always being very finicky about the kind of film I wanted to watch because unlike other couples I believed in respecting the art of cinema and actually watching the film! Such was the urge to watch good cinema that I also recall bunking school tutions with another friend who was a diehard SRK fan to catch his latest film Pardes in a theatre right across tution class! The cheek, I know. Don’t remember what excuse we made in class the next day but it does help to be teacher’s pets in such situations :)

Then of course, came the serious turn of events towards putting theory to practice. With a firm resolve to uncover the hidden dimensions of what we call the silver screen, I went on to do courses in college which helped me learn interesting aspects about films. The adaptation of a novel to the screen and the entire process of movie making- from the ideation, production, post production and promotion- the journey behind the scene became as fascinating as the action in the foreground. We ate, felt, talked and slept films day and night, watched lots of them, reviewed and wrote papers on them and finally emerged abled enough to understand the grammar, scope and influence of the cinematic language. 

The fascination translated in to my moving to a career that further helped me delve in to every aspect of filmmaking- on my first shoot as an intern with a production house I remember lugging a tripod twice my size to interview Ashutosh Goweriker who sat with his choreographers Bosco and Ceaser recalling the shoot of the song Ye Tara Who Tara from his then latest film Swades! From then on, I went on to meet different people from the film industry covering every aspect of filmmaking- cinematographer Binod Pradhan, celebrity hair stylist Dilshad and Adhuna Akhtar, directors like Anurag Kashyap, Sriram Raghavan and Dibakar Banerjee, producers like Karan Johar to name a few and actors- with & without the starry attitude, thanks to my association with a leading television news channel. The journey of interviewing these people who worked like maniacs in front and behind the scenes was one that has been memorable and satisfying beyond my wildest expectation. What’s more is I was also lucky enough to be able to spend a glorious time being a film critic- meaning watching movies for free at press shows and reviewing them every Friday! Trust me, this is one job I chide myself for quitting! Attending film festivals, covering events and press conferences where all sorts of filmmaking people ganged up and sounded intellectual, watching foreign language films, just revelling in the atmosphere of movies galore…I could do this all my life. 

Films have somehow remained a part of every work profile professionally. Even in my next stint at the most renowned performing arts centre in Mumbai, I was managing events and workshops for the dynamic film and theatre department which meant absorbing all kinds of cinema- foreign, Indian, small budget, regional, independent, short films you name it, I had it. Interactions with little and well known filmmakers and film experts continued thus aiding further learning. The passion for cinema got reflected in the sheer number of people who came for the films we screened, the people who made them and the people who came to share their views on them. It was a perfect paradise for any self-acclaimed cineaste. 

Today I am not so connected to the world of films in my current job but film watching is still a favourite pastime. I still try to catch up with film festivals and every other kind of film apart from just Hindi films that come my way. I am gradually transitioning to a phase where I wish to give creative vent to the stories inside me so that in my own little way, I may be able to contribute to this vast sea of artistic expression. After all, no devotee’s religious zeal is ever complete without making a humble offering to his place of worship. And I am no less than a devout follower of the mother of all entertainment- 'CineMA'.

When Nature Beckoned!

The planning of a getaway happened a month ago thanks to the promise of a long weekend coming up. Right from the start though, it was like it was never meant to be. Ever planned a holiday for ages only to see it never take off and crumble bit by bit even before it started! Yeah so that’s pretty much how we started the journey of a motley group of six. Four guys and two girls we were, and there was hardly anyone left in our known contacts we didn’t tag to go along with us! Several rejections, cancellations and disappointments later we were reduced to half a dozen youthful enthusiasts ready to take on adventure, no matter the trials and tribulations. It’s probably this zest that helped us get through the trip as we were to see soon enough and thank God for it! 

Our preparation was bang on. Scouting for places, fixing up an itinerary, estimating a budget, finding cheap accommodation, discussing the essentials to carry on the trip- we were right on track, only the decisions never seemed to fall into place. Frantic whatsapp messages, incessant chats and idle banter followed day in, day out without understanding where it was all leading to. Finally, the leader of the pack took a deep breath, shook his head in dismay and opened his laptop. Within 10 minutes, we had booked the destination, hotel and mode of transport. Victory seemed close. A quick group meeting happened in the confines of a car to understand who was in charge of booze, last minute check list, what the pick up point would be etc. We were raring to go. 

The day dawned when we were to leave in the night after office to Dhanaulti, 24 kms uphill beyond Mussoorie. Work just didn’t seem to get over on a hectic weekday thanks to the long upcoming weekend. We rushed through it all, delayed by an hour or so. Everyone had to pack, buy booze, assemble at a common point and then head over to pick up two of us from Faridabad and then finally hit the highway. The plan started collapsing from the word go! First, thanks to the delay from office, we were already running late, buying the alcohol took time, then the packing, and then assembling at one place. Even as that happened, we found the hookah missing and so one of us had to rush back to go get it. 30 mins past 9 pm and the car arrived after a lot of confusion and to our consternation, it is a Xylo and not an Innova! How were we all supposed to fit! It was sent back and frenetic calling and networking to get an innova somehow began. The leader was losing his cool by the minute. Finally, an Innova was arranged for by the cool dude of the clan and we finally packed inside to the next stop Faridabad. In all this chaos, we ended up leaving for our destination only by 11 past. Stop over on the highway for a late dinner and we were back on the road. Drinking, laughing, joking and sleepy, we were drowsing within a couple of hours. Except for our crazy doll who simply wouldn’t shut eye. Result: A lot of incessant throwing up at regular intervals that delayed our circuitous hilly drive by more than 45 minutes! 

9 am in the morning, we touched Dhanaulti Heights, a GMVN hotel. Checked in, refreshed our appetites with paranthas and omelettes only to crash in our rooms for the next two hours. That was a short lived endeavor. A quick bath and change later, Mr.Entrepreneur had work for the boys. Modelling for his new batch of tees took the morning away. Post that we were ready to head out for lunch and cover the scenic points to catch a breath taking view of the hilly expanse. An idle walk ahead led us to a greenish patch with lots of trees and a valley that dropped down several thousands of feet below. 

Several photo ops later, we were ready to head back to a soiree of music, drinks n snacks in the room followed by a bonfire outside the hotel. The warmth of the flames were able to pleasantly defy the chilly winds outside thanks to Cool Dude and Bindass Baba’s continuous wood supply. By the time we were back in our room, it was time to say sweet dreams. The next day saw us head out quickly to catch some flying fox and rope walking at the Eco Park. After breakfast, we were off to Rishikesh for some river rafting and relaxation depending on what you wished to do. 

Once at Rishikesh, a hurried lunch later the boys were off to fight the rapids while three of us headed to a more peaceful respite. A short walk brought the leader to a beautiful river front GMVN hotel aptly called the Ganga Resort. With dormitories rated at Rs.250, we were hooked on the spot and finalized our stay for the second night then and there. A quite time by the river helped wash away any strains of travel and a blazing thunderstorm shook off any sense of lethargy from our itinerant bodies. After the boys came back, we had a good time chatting up about their experience with another round of drinks and music. Somewhere all of us knew we were reaching the end of our journey and it was to be pack up time tomorrow.

We ran through the photos of our journey so far and called it a day by 11 pm. The next morning was Round 2 of the boy’s modeling session while the girls caught up on their beauty sleep. It was tough leaving the gurgling river but it was time to head back home. Our Innova made good time to cross Muzzafarnagar by lunch time. Ravenous, we ate lunch at a small eaterie, played cards on route to Delhi and finally reached the capital by 6 pm in the evening.

Parting was difficult. Baba Bindass’ non stop jokes and witty one liners, Crazy Doll’s Pukie Pie moments and constant bickering with the boys, Cool Dude’s misplaced hunt to find hot chicks, Mr.Entrepreneur’s eat-sleep-have fun all in a day’s work and the Leader’s directives and supervision throughout the trip would be moments we were going to retain as take away. Even as we said our good byes, we knew an indescribable bond had formed amongst us. A fellowship was born. The journey of the Road Surfers had just begun.