The Monotony of Reality Shows

One of the good things about coming back home is that you are reintroduced to the idiot box every time. The last two weeks was catching up time.I have to confess that the sense of reunion with the television and the new IPL season just did not allow me to blog at all. I was for a moment worried whether I will ever get back to writing.


Coming to the point straight away. I have been quite disappointed with what I see on the television these days. This whole plethora of reality shows. Not only are there too many of them but they are re-run zillions of times in a day. So do not lose heart if you missed the politics and scandals of the roadies show or the bitching behind the scenes of a dance show, you can watch it the next day 5 times and so you can watch it 35 times in a week. You will get so familiar with the episode that you will become judgemental and emotional and actually start supporting or hating the characters involved. So the show owners now have their ultimate aim achieved....TRPs!!!


When it started off with the Indian Idol and POPSTARS in India, it was a fresh concept these reality shows. You enjoyed them and now I detest them. I hate it when they leave it to the audience to decide.

I will tell you what happens. Today when I watch a reality show religiously, I want to watch it 'aaram se' with no tension. I dont want to pick up my phone and vote any more. I have done enough of it. When I do not, I somehow see that the deserving ones lose. Then the anchors and judges start blaming you as if you were deciding everything. They instil a feeling of guilt in you. Assuming that i do vote, I still see the deserving ones lose, because in India the voting system for a television show is similar to that of politics. Its caste based and religion based and not talent based.

My favourite TV programme till date has remained SA RE GA MA which was hosted by Sonu Nigam and then Shaan. They always left the decision to the judges and always the best man won. Then you would say that it could never be called a reality show. Who wants one?

The standard of these shows has dropped big time. The kind of language that is used is pretty bad (cos the youngsters are always watching). Reality shows show more bizarre incidents happening on the sets than the concept itself. TRP ke liye saala kuch bhi karega.

Honestly speaking I am completely against censorship and yet ironically people are making so much fuss about content in movies when a simple soap or a show is already causing more harm (to the culture as they say) on a daily basis.

Anyways, I hope these guys realise the monotony they are causing and try and make something different and please to all you owners of the shows- whatever you do, dont ask for votes.

PARTING THROUGH SEASONS

Gone now, just run past me,
Zipped away like a frisbee,
The heat, the sweat, now all gone,
Somewhere a rain cloud seems to be born.

It will rain soon,
It will rain day and noon,
When the night sets in,
Memories will trouble within.

Oh! how I will miss it all,
I shall shout, Alas! noone will call,
But remember this thing my friend,
You shall remain till the end.

The night shall seem a lil older,
It shall now smell a lil different,
The day shall not bring that light again,
I shall have to wake to myself again.

It will be cold soon,
The nights would be longer then,
Time would have passed a little,
Alone with the coffee and the kettle.

Oh! how I will miss it all,
I shall shout, Alas! noone will call,
But remember this thing my friend,
You shall remain till the end.

V.V.VIKRAM

A Letter To You........

Dear SIMSR

Before I really begin to write this one, I find it funny that I am writing a letter but not to a person and that this letter can never be read by you. Yet, I want to write this letter.

To begin with, I want to tell you that I am leaving you. Yes, its true. In another 20 days I will be gone from this campus of yours. Only yesterday was I telling my friend that in the next 20 days there will be the "last few days" for so many things. I have to admit it that there is an intangible bond with you. The last 2 years that I have spent with you have not only been splendid but a great learning experience as well. I have learnt a lot from you. So many of us come and go and yet you stay where you are. You are selfless and always provide the warmth. I will miss walking on your roads when I felt alone and jumping and running around when I felt happy.

I cannot forget the first day when I met you. You seemed like a stranger, a complete one at that. I missed so many people when I came here and how can I forget the rains when I met you. You were flooded. Then I got used to you being there. I met some great people here and I owe you everything for that. I met the bad ones too but then I owe you again for those as well because they taught me what not to do in life.

Technically speaking, you have taught me the art to manage various things and those things include people. I do not really know how much I have managed to learn on that front but I know that I can do a reasonable job out of it. You have made me experience everything here, literally. The moments of joy when I did well in the exams and presentations, when I freaked out with my friends and all those times when I managed to deliver what I was supposed to. There were moments of anxiety during the preparations for the exams as well and yes you also introduced me to some very "great" profs here as well. Profs who made us slog like hell. There were moments of sadness in my personal life which did not last long only because of some great people I met here.

This feeling of leaving you keeps creeping in slowly everyday.It makes me sad and yet it makes me happy. Sad because this is the last phase of my tryst with campus life and happy because you have made me more confident a person. You have also taught me to remain grounded come what may. I want to be as selfless as you and somehow funnily a marketing job may not always permit me to do so.Yet i will try.


Thank you for everything SIMSR. You are the best.


From one of the many students who have experienced life:

Vikram

Furher Bunker

My first attempt to write a story. The story is fictitious and yet in many ways it is true.

7 am, Berlin, Germany,1945

The diluted wine had never had such an effect on him. For that matter he had never had so much of it together. Yet today he wanted to drink. The thought of dying a death such as this was too humiliating. He knew though that any amount and any kind of it would not let this feeling disappear. He was dying today.

He looked around. The room was too dingy. It was a hideout. He was hiding and he could not digest it. For all that he had won, he was just another human today. His mother came to his mind. The most beautiful woman in this world. 'Alois' is what she called him. It was cold and he had never felt so cold. He had a dream which was almost turning into a reality. Now it was all a matter of time. The world would despise him for years to come and yet there would be some who would always look upto him.

Eva was asleep. He looked at her. An angel. For the first time in years and years, he felt emotional. He stood up and looked outside the tiny window. It was early morning, probably 7 am and it would take another 3 hours for them to locate him.

8 am, Berlin, Germany,1945

His mother always told him that he would be the greatest and in a way he was. He was surprised the way he was thinking today. Was it the proximity to death? Till yesterday he felt unstoppable and yet today he was doubting himself. He knew what it was. He had never had the time to question himself twice. It was the flow. it was the expectations his people had of him. His army, his troops all looked upto him like he was the messiah and how can a messiah let his disciples down.

He knew he was a killer and today when he was all alone he felt the feeling overcoming him. He pulled the drawer and took out the pistol. He kept it back. He was shocked. He knew what had happened. He was scared of dying. The greatest man on this earth.A soldier. He was scared of losing his life. Oh!! what a loser he was. He let his thoughts frustrate him a little more. He knew only they could instigate him to kill himself. The guilt will pull the trigger eventually.

9 am, Berlin, Germany,1945

He hated the jews bitterly. He hated them even now and yet he knew why he had not slept a wink in the last 5 years. He was too proud to admit it. He got too carried away. He knew that deep down somewhere he was a cold blooded murderer, a rapist, inhumane and yes he was a narcissist. He loved himself and his ideas so much that he could go any extent to turn them into reality. So many women and children had died.

He suddenly remembered this old woman in a jew apartment that the German army had raided. She was on a wheelchair. All her family members had been shot down and she was crying and wanted to be shot as well. One of the young German officers felt offended by the request. "How dare she request, this motherfucking jew and how dare you oblige by holding the gun at her you bastard" he said to one of his subordinates. He pushed the wheelchair to the edge of the apartment window. He then pushed it out along with the woman. She fell 3 stories and died. He was there standing right next to him. For one moment he was appalled and yet he felt powerful.How stupid he was.

Suddenly he felt his eyes wet and then he started crying. He had not cried in ages and yet today he saw a different side of himself. Eva suddenly got up and noticed him. She came next to him to comfort him. He then heard a jeep and murmurs in Russian.

10 am, Berlin, Germany,1945

He quickly opened the drawer and took out the revolver. He moved to the bed and kissed Eva. He told her how sorry he was and how much he loved her. He killed her first and then he killed himself. The Russians broke in. The captain looked at the bodies and smiled. He told his subordinate to send a wire immediately to the colonel," Tell him that Hitler is dead".

I salute the skies.....

An average of 7 IAF jets crash every year in India. Many Indian pilots have lost their lives in this process. We tend to remember those who lose their lives on the battlefield and yet for a defence personnel everyday is like a battlefield. The pilots of the IAF fly everyday and conduct test runs to keep themselves prepared for a war. Many lose their lives. This poem is dedicated to all those who lost their lives in many such test runs. I salute the families who with strength and confidence send the pilots into the skies to do their job. For me they, our pilots, are the sky itself.

आखरी अलविदा

बादलों को चूमता था रोज़ मैं ,
निकलता था आकाशों की सैर पर,
सबसे ऊपर, सबसे दूर और सबसे तेज़,
अपने घर को ढूँढने की कोशिश किया करता था.

मन्न तो हमेशा किया की ले चलूँ उसे भी,
दिखाऊं दुनिया इक अलग सी, एक अनोखा सफ़र,
साथ था उसका की मैं निडर होके चला जाता था,
धरती को छूते ही घर लौट आता था.

खुद को देखता था उस छोटे से मुझ में,
हाथ में होती थी उसकी एक छोटी सी प्लेन,
'बनूँगा मैं भी आपके जैसा' बोलता था,
उठा के उसको लगा लेता था गले मैं.

अब भी उन्ही बादलों में हूँ मैं,
अब भी हूँ उन्ही के साथ और रहूँगा,
भले ही अब घर वापिस ना जा सकूं,
भले ही उन्हें गले न लगा सकूं,
हूँ मैं उन्ही के साथ हमेशा .

V.V.Vikram

Of Modern Traditions!!!

In India, there is sometimes a trade-off bewteen tradions and practicality. These trade-offs can cost a lot at times.There is Anger and frustration at the end of it. Is it worth it?

Indian traditions have always been a binding factor. We owe a lot to these traditions. In fact they are the core of our so called Value system. Yet, sometimes the same traditions demand too much of a person. There are two friends of mine. A Man and a woman. Well...yes they were in love with each other and were highly committed. The girl is getting older by "Indian standards" for her marriage. She goes after the guy big time and pressurises him. The guy has an older brother who is still unmarried and this guy cannot get married till his older brother does. What happens next is sadly a common story in India. The Girl gets no further extension from home and the guy cannot get married due to old traditions. Its worse than a Catch-22. They Break up.

Wish parents could understand. Wish the society could. In this case, wish the older brother was sensible and practical enough to make the guy's parents understand that it was okay for his younger brother to get married first. Wish the girl's parents could wait a little longer. But then its never an easy situation with parents always vouching for arranged marriage over love marriage in India. When its love marriage, even the most accomodating parent ceases to budge and give room for practicality.

So whats the solution? I wish I had known. When it comes to marriage,families reunite...families get bigger. You see uncles and aunts you had never seen and spoken to. Huge egos are at stake. The boy and the girl feel as if marriage is the biggest event and the sole purpose why the parents are on this earth. Rest all seems inconsequesntial.

I am a great believer in Indian traditions. I am fsacinated and am in awe of them. The reason being that every tradition has a meaning to it and every individual finds his own element in each. Yet some can change lives for worse. There has to be a point where one needs to thing from the head and not from the heart. I just hope that we the current generation think more pragmatically when required and imbibe the same into the next one.

फुटपाथ

This piece in hindi is written with a hope that one day there will be no poverty in our country anymore.

तपती धूप की बातें ना करो मुझसे,
मैंने बिताई है ज़िन्दगी सड़कों पर,
फुटपाथों पर मैंने फैलाई है झोली,
सिग्नलों पर थपथपाई मैंने हर कार की खिड्की.

भूक की बातें ना करो मुझसे,
खाली पेट सोयी हूँ दिनों तक,
नज़र रखती हूँ रोज़ उन फेके हुए निवालों पर,
बासी खाने को भी चाव से खाया है मैंने .

इज्ज़त की बातें ना करो मुझसे,
हर तरह की नज़र को देखा है मैंने,
और सबसे जान बचायी है,
हर सिक्के की अहमियत जानी है मैंने.

ज़िन्दगी की बातें ना करो मुझसे,
क्या जाना है तुमने इतना पा कर?
मरने की चाह को रोज़ दबाया है मैंने,
खुद को खुद से लड़ना सिखाया है मैंने.

दुःख की बातें ना करो मुझसे,
सब कुछ खोया है मैंने,
अब लगाव नहीं रहता किसी चीज़ से,
हर मोड़ पर सब गवाया है मैंने .


V.V.Vikram