SURVEY FOR DISSERTATION!

Hi!

I am currently working on my dissertation and need to do a  survey for that.

Below are some images, followed by 5 simple questions. It would be great if you could look at the images and then proceed to answer the questions.

All you have to do is post a comment, with the answers to the questions (please mention question number), along with your name and age. 

Thanks for your time! I hope your responses act as a  propeller to my mind, which seems to have fallen into a state of inertia.

PS Now that you are here, you could read my earlier posts as well! J

Thank you once again!

                                                      PHOTO 1

PHOTO TWO

PHOTO 3

Questions:

1. Do you remember these photographs?

2. Do recall the incident which lead to this photograph being published, if yes do remember the story/report that complemented it?

3. Do you remember the publication where u came across this photo? If yes please mention.

4. What are words you associate with this photograph? (Just about a few phrases or sentences should do)

5. How often did you see this being repeated? (in same publication/otherwise)

SUBSTANCE, STYLE AND SUSTENANCE

The cold has attacked the remains of my degenerating brain. Completely frozen. The inability to write can be quiet frustrating. So here is an article I wrote for a magazine, People’s Post. It was written a few months back, but Sachin can never been out dated. Here it goes, the closest I can get to the legend:

Substance, Style and Sustenance – Sachin Tendulkar

The twenty something generation was born when Sachin made his debut and they grew up watching his centuries. The thirty something generation watched in awe as a boy of their age, created ripples through the world and they matured with the wave. For the sixty something generation, he is the son they always dreamt of and for the children of the new millennium he is a phenomenon. Only Sachin Tendulkar could be so much and more with such ease that everyone is left enthralled by his spell.

It has been two decades since the religion of cricket in India has found its messiah, and even today he remains as humble as any great personality could ever be. There is a poetic beauty to Sachin’s entry into cricket. His debut in international cricket was preceded by landmarks like a century on his first class debut (the first Indian to have done so) and unbeaten knock of 103 in the Irani trophy (barely a week before his test debut). But in his test debut against Pakistan he made 15 runs of his first innings (did not bat in the second innings) and his ODI debut was a second ball duck. Yet he went on to make centuries by the dozen and break records like karate expert would shatter a marble slab. It was not just about making a mark but also about strengthening it with each match, because there never was any doubt about him being special. It was just the question of sustenance, and in that ground, today he stands vindicated.

His philosophy is to keep it simple, both on and off field. Watching the bowler closely and picking up cues from his body language during the run up is Sachin’s secret to a shot timed to perfection. Off field too, he has made a conscience effort to be doubly careful of what he says and what he does, because no action of Sachin goes unseen and no word unheard. And yet every now and then he would be drawn into controversies, most often not related to the game, but because he is what he is. Accused of cutting a cake with the Indian tri-colour; placing the BCCI logo above the national flag on his helmet or not making custom duty for importing a car, they all seem to fall flat under the sheer talent, dedication and honesty of this man. The very fact that he was forthcoming about his oversights and apologies made this idolised figure even more humane. It seems that every time his professional excellence sky rockets him to success, he pulls him self to centre with his modesty.

The only low of his otherwise splendid career would be his stint as a captain, where he took over Mohammad Azharuddin and had a rather poor record of 4 victories and 9 losses in a total of 25 tests. It was like a black beauty mark put on a baby’s face to ward off evil. Otherwise Sachin’s untarnished cricketing life would have been too perfect to be true. Sachin’s failure as a captain was also probably a result of needing to watch over his shoulder and carry the burden of surrounding events which clipped the wings of this free and fearless batsman. There have been times when his body has given up, but never his spirit. And that is what has kept him alive so long in the game. He has seen cricket grow from its longer formats to the quick byte T20 and the progress of Indian Cricket through the ups and downs.

What is truly spectacular about Sachin Tendulkar is that all he did was to play the game brilliantly and honestly, but ended up being not just a great player who will be remembered through the annals of history but also an icon and brand value. Sachin sells. Almost everyone who follows cricket with the same passion as Sachin plays it, wants a part of him, in any which way possible. And that is just why whatever he endorses has an almost definite hope of success. For his fans it is about how close they can get to the man they hold high on a pedestal. For many it is about brushing their teeth with the toothpaste he endorses to driving a car which features the little Master in their commercials and more importantly owning a small part of the greatness that Sachin is.

New adjectives would have to be created for great personalities, but for Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar a new language with integrity and honesty as it grammar and pride and passion as its adjectives would have to be fashioned.

~Dilli Diary~ Safdarjung Tomb

In the heart of Delhi’s swankiest area lies a monument with a forgotten story. Like most others its tale too was lost among the snazzy malls that came to replace the landmarks of Delhi. Safdarjung tomb lies at the intersection of Safdarjung Road, Aurobindo Marg and Lodhi Road and takes one by surprise as it pops out of nowhere. It stands at the Centre of these busy roads which connects Khan Market, Jor Bagh and the Safdarjung Airport like a silent spectator of development and evolution of Delhi from the 1754 till today, as the rulers of Delhi changed from its creators, the Mughals, to the colonial rule of British and later India’s Independent Government. Built for Mirza Muqim Abul Mansur Khan, Governor of Oudh during the rule of Muhammad Shah and later the Prime Minister to Shah’s successor, Ahmad Shah, this is one of the most famous monuments built during the final years of Mughal rule.

At the very entrance, there is a slab, explaining the history of the tomb in not just English and Hindi, but also in Braille. Entry charges are Rs 5 per head and for shooting videos, one need to pay Rs 25 extra. Despite being at the centre of such a busy road outside, and construction inside, a quiet calm takes over as soon as one enters the main archway. While walking through the passage that leads to the tomb, what is striking is not the magnificence of the monument, but the passage itself, which has become a parking lot. Dark, dingy and slightly cold, the main passage is supposed to be the first spot from where the entire monument can be seen through the arch. But instead, the passage way is decorated with cycles and scooters of the workers, who are repairing this structure. Infact turning around towards the entrance (which now becomes the exit) provides for an even more interesting sight. Through the 18th century arch, one can see the cars, buses and tucks of the 21st century zip past. It almost seems like looking through a time portal stuck between two eras.

The first look at the monument is breath taking. It warms the visitor with its splendour and yet imposes its beauty in the most unassuming way. The vast expanse of ground on which this monument stand could be better maintained as it seems rather barren at the moment. The dried lake too is an eyesore, especially since the two together give a feeling of being transported into a desert. But the dome with its partly fallen tiles and the minarets with airy windows take your attention away from these small flaws. Once at the stairway, it is advisable to stop and prepare oneself for the beauty that lies ahead. Even midway through the steep stairs, the minarets and veranda start peeing, like a child playing hide and seek. The central balcony catches the eye with its beautifully carved frame. And just as one adjusts the eye to the marvel of the minarets around, a look at the ceiling would leave one even more astound. Typical to all architectures of the Mughal era, the ceiling is ornate and has flower designs in the centre of a symmetrical yet unique array of lines, which create an illusion of depth. The main hallway looks into smaller ones on either side, all equally exquisite. With the sunlight creeping up, the shadows along with the patterns on the walls create an fascinating view. The locked up doors along the way create a mystery and curiosity to know what lies beyond.

Back at the veranda, one must take time to sit at the corner and watch the dome and minarets closely. Infact if lucky enough, the pigeons on the windows would suddenly fly around the dome twice before settling back into their cosy spots, but only to resume the parikrama once again. This is quiet spectacular and the birds around the dome make it more picturesque.

Walk around and discover hidden corners and history tucked away between dust and time. There are fascinating things around. The women who clean in their vibrant sarees, taking a break, while sipping ‘chai’ and the old man who shys away when he sees the camera and the guard who stand at the entrance of door stocked with papers and books (try sneaking in if you can) add a touch of life, to what otherwise could have become just another monument. Everyone is bound to find something for themselves here-the loner gets his silence, the lovebirds find their peace, photographers discover locations and architects get a look at what is considered the last flick in the light of the Mughal architecture. But most importantly, nearly everyone would find one thing for sure-Inspiration.

from a series written for the magazine PEOPLE'S POST

Dream....

The great thing about being young is the capacity to dream, in most cases endlessly. Starting from the 2 year old me who wanted to paint hoardings, to a 10 yr old who wanted to be a spy, a 14 year old who wanted to write and make a difference, till now, a 20 year old, who still wants to be all that and more.

Every now and then I have met people who have made me feel otherwise, taking me further from my dream, leaving me a little more bruised than yesterday. There have been times when even the pebble in sand seemed to have a better life and the moon in dark night gave no light.

Life often seemed like a whirlwind, picking up everything wrong on its way, just before it hit me hard and landed me on the bottom of the pit. There are times when you just want to shut yourself from everyone. Even the faces that used to bring a smile seemed to draw a blank. Trust me the feeling of being sucked into a vacuum can be quiet depressing. I always wondered how things would be on the other side. There always was a feeling of hope that I would get out of it, but it was a matter of time. How long before I finally can bid adieu to formalities of education and start my dream ride?

It is true that only your dream that can inspire you the most. It is under these dreams that you can take shelter and under the same that you shine like a star. And it is only now, that we strike the balance of experience and innocence. It is only now that though everything around me may say otherwise, I have the passion to dream.

It is what it all boils down to. It is that one thing for which I don’t have to be somebody’s daughter or some university topper. Nothing can stop me from dreaming, and going back to bed each day with more hope and a millimetre closer to it. The end of it all is always curious. Would I be where I want to be? In a way, it does not matter.

I atleast had the passion to dream and more important had the guts to follow it like a psychotic stalker!

Letter to Losers!

I dedicate this piece to Shubhi. After reading your article, I am really charged up to put those thoughts which have been bothering me/us for so long, into words. I shall take the liberty to start from where you left.

Dear dirty old scumbag,

I hope this letter reaches you in good condition and that you are more miserable than words can ever express, hopefully in your deathbed. Yet I know you shall have no regret, no shame because you are the eternal perverse.

You and the remains of your race of disgusting men still parade the earth, as if your existence is a blessing for us. Singing when I walk past you, air kissing when I am not looking, walking diagonally just so that you can brush past me in your smelly half unbuttoned shirt, do you seriously think that you are my dream of George Clooney walking down the battered roads of Delhi? Or do you think that you are just so sauvé that I would swoon and fall at your feet.

My dearest, how and when will you realise that you are the type I want to kick between the legs, hoping that you would die like a disgusting lizard squashed under a dirty chappal? What makes you think that I would want to do anything otherwise? What cheap thrill do you get out of making a fool of yourself? But probably you are so superficial and soul less, that no amount of introspection would give you any answers. For you it a world of carnal needs and desires.

That is why I propose castration - The solution to end the maniacal tendencies that lie within you. Damage your male ego so much, that you might give ‘respecting women’ a thought.

And for all your supporters out there, with all respect to their age and archaic thoughts, I have nothing but anger which eventually boils down to pity. “You should see where you are going, what you are wearing. You must protect yourself from those lewd eyes” Oh dear lord! I will punch you so hard that you wished that you never opened your mouth to say such disgusting words. The fact is I will go where I want, wearing what I want. And you and your friends from the dark ages can watch.

But watch with caution, because if its anything more than a casual look, if it is a look that tries to undress one with you filthy eyes, I shall gauge them out. I sound violent, but I am just passionate about this, wiping the earth clean of any repulsive creatures like you that may still dare to exist.

Furiously yours,
Just another girl, who walks around the streets of Delhi and is independent enough not to travel in swanky car funded by her sugar daddy.

Just Another Post

For sometime now, I have been on a journey of exploring, inculcating and reflecting on anything and everything that comes my way. It is something that probably stems from the fact that in the last 2 and half years of college, I have been going through what I presume most people go through. “The optimism of the will and pessimism of the intellect”(a quote a professor of mine said, in one of those rare classes where I was mentally present.)

The fact is that in these years, I have been bombarded with so many issues that get me thinking and feeling (more often than not anger). It is like the floodgates have been opened and I am trying to swim upstream, in search of something. A something I don’t really know.

There are so many things happening in this world, in this country, in your city, in your colony, that it is impossible not to have ‘so many thoughts’ running within one self. The growing nuclear matrix among the nations of the world, the condition of the farmers in India, the situation of our own citizens gunned down by regressive acts like AFSPA, the death of river Yamuna. All this creates this restless in me, not knowing where to voice my opinion. And the irony is that I am a student of journalism!

Watching documentaries and films and making one(some day) puts a lot of things in perspective.Indian films are at curious crossroads. We have more and more independent film makers who go beyond the redundant stereotypes of “Bollywood” and reflect a society and not a construct. But at the same time what interests (and worries) me is that there are hardly any women film makers (this particular generation). All I could think of were three names! (Zoya Akhtar, Reema Kagti and Nandita Das!). As a naive 20 year old, not yet out of my little world of idealism, but wanting to crack it in the bigger scheme of things, I wonder how it is to be a woman making your own movies. That is why watching their films is viewing films with a new lens.

For often than not, some of my favourite films and film makers have numerous emotions, ranging from anger and frustration to the romanticism of dreaming and making anything possible. Someday maybe I would paint these emotions in my own way, in my own colours.



This is the time.

This is the place.

Hoping to make the best use of both.

Forever Came Alive

Forever was lost in the humdrum of our monotonous life. Deadlines, assignments and “life” took away our time. But sitting there, on the edge of a city, forever was reborn. The cool wind through their hair and the occasional splatter of rough wave, 5 friends sat for what seemed like forever. Lost in thought and yet completely aware of how that holiday would never come back, the comfortable silence between them seemed to take over the chaos of the city. The clouds gathered over the never ending sky and the horizon darkened. Faraway building turned on their lights. It was time to go.
Forever had not come to an end….it had just started.

For my friends Curly, Whacky, Funny and Silly.
Love,
Crazy