Being a Biomedical Engineer in India

 

A young and vibrant girl was extremely excited. As excited as Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit who was going on an adventure. A tedious and difficult journey lay in front of her. She had reached a milestone in her life and was embarking on a new journey to gain more knowledge. She had done a good deal of research before starting on the path she wanted to take. In the beginning, she was confused but after her research, she concluded that although the path she had chosen was less travelled, it was going to be more exciting than the others. More challenging, and more diverse of all the other paths available. She would encounter a variety of subjects on her journey and honestly, that was the part she was looking forward to the most. But little did she know that she was going to be right in the intersection of two warring factions, and none of them would like her.

Sounds like a great beginning for an adventure story, doesn’t it? But let me get more real and tell you that this is not an exciting adventure story. This is about me. I was the young, vibrant girl and that was the time when I was going to start my undergraduate studies majoring in Biomedical Engineering. Who are the two warring factions, you’d ask? Engineers and Doctors. Or my fellow Telugu speaking people would know. People who chose MPC during their Intermediate studies vs people who chose BiPC. And I was smack in the middle of both those factions. I call them factions because they literally hate each other. Or that’s what I understood from being a Biomedical Engineering student and taking courses from both an Engineering and a Medical College.

To the uninitiated, after you finish 10^th grade in India, or more specifically Telangana/Andhra Pradesh, you’re given two options (there’s more than two but nobody cares about the rest). You could choose Maths, Physics, Chemistry as your primary focus and that’s MPC (the expansion is the same subjects you’d be focusing on) if you’re smart enough. But not all of them are good at Maths, are they? If you are not, that’s not a problem. You could choose Biology, Physics, Chemistry as your primary focus subjects, for which you’d have to study BiPC and eventually become a doctor. Now this path is daunting and long and tedious but it’s extremely worth it as you could be making big bucks without having to move to another country like the MPC people eventually do to make more money. Now, what do you do if want to study both Maths and Biology? Like me? Well, there is an option called MBiPC which is not very commonly offered and is also advised against because you’d neither be fully focused on becoming an engineer nor a doctor. It’s just trying to be a jack of all trades (or a jack of two trades should I say? Those two are the only ones that matter!) and end up becoming a master of none. And a master of none doesn’t make big bucks. So that is not a good idea.

After a lot of contemplation, I took the easy path and went on to do MPC. This was for two years and I don’t remember a single time I wasn’t distressed during those entire two years. After it was done, I decided I did not want to be so distressed all the time. That’s where the vibrancy came from. I was young, and decided against being distressed, so I was also very vibrant. Now, I had to become an engineer but what engineering should I do? I saw that I qualified for a Biomedical Engineering course in one of the oldest and prestigious universities in the Telugu speaking states in India. I jumped at the opportunity and it kinda felt meant to be, because I did want to do Biology in my Intermediate. This was perfect! “I was going on an adventure!!!!!”

Once the adventure started, I realized that none of the other engineering batches considered us one of them. We were always a separate group. Even lecturers used to point out that we were Biomedical Engineers and we were the worst amongst all the other engineering departments. It hurt honestly. I wondered why we were so looked down upon. The Maths professors, especially, always pointed out our inadequacy in the subject (I’m not amazing at Math but I’d like to think I’m decent. Not to be a show-off but I enjoy Calculus, better than basic Arithmetic, and I think I’m good at it.). The second year of Engineering, we were sent to a medical college to take some classes on Anatomy, Physiology, and Biochemistry. This was an exciting aspect for me as I was gonna be doing something that was so different from my regular courses in my first year. But I was soon deflated after my first day in the Medical College where we were told that Biomedical Engineers are extremely undisciplined and lack the capability to work hard like doctors do. I also remember one incident, where a doctor lecturer scolded us for not remembering the name of a bone. And to quote her, she said, “This is not your Maths!” This is a very common trait of most Indian doctors. They hate Maths! In fact, they’ve only become doctors because of their inability to grasp Mathematics and are looked down upon by Engineers who believe they’re Math experts. There’s so many boundaries between subjects and courses in India. If you’re good at Maths, you should hate Biology and the thought of understanding it. If you’re good at Biology, you should hate Maths. Does this hinder collaboration amongst different domain experts? Are these barriers broken at a higher level amongst scientists where collaboration is absolutely necessary? I wouldn’t know and can’t comment on it but I’m sure some amount of this contempt is carried upwards as well.

I’m always fascinated by the diverse majors and minors people in the United States have. I’ve seen Computer Science majors, minor in Psychology. Or History. There was one person, whose course I recently took whose qualifications fascinated me. She was an astro-physicist and a folklorist. How cool is that? That would be so cool to tell someone. That I’m an astro-physicist and also a folklorist. Can’t get over how incredibly cool that sounds! Makes me want to do my Bachelor’s here again. I would probably have taken courses in English Literature or something like that. English was my favorite subject in school and I was ridiculed by many people for saying that because your favorite subject could be only Maths or Biology. What’re you gonna do with English? Be an English teacher? (I don’t see what’s wrong with that but apparently it’s bad). I am also to blame. I took the easy way out, did an Engineering degree, migrated to the US, finished my Master’s and am working for a corporate. I am no different than all these people I ridicule and laugh at.

In conclusion, the point I wanted to make was that there’s way too much hate between people who do different courses back home. Here, it’s so different. People respect whatever course you take. Be it Music, Film Making, Creative Writing, Computer Science. And the coolest part, is that people get you’re only 18 and figuring things out. You don’t have to decide on a major right away, and even if you do, you don’t have to stick to it. You can take courses from other disciplines and become an astro-physicist major with a minor in folklore mythology (Sorry, I keep mentioning that again and again but isn’t that the coolest?!). This kind of flexibility and openness is lacking in our current education system. So yeah, in conclusion, one final time, this is just another post criticizing the Indian education system. 😊

The Protagonist’s Sister

Hi there! I am the protagonist’s sister in one of your favorite Telugu movies. Let me just break it down for you, I’m the Hero’s sister. My name is…. It’s really not that important, is it? Well, I mostly do have a name. It’s just a name and a face though. There’s no character or personality to that combination of a name and a face.

On second thoughts, I do have a personality. Or maybe I should call it a purpose. I could think of two off the top of my head. I’ve listed them down for you -

1.  One of my closest friends (the prettiest amongst the lot usually) would become my brother’s love interest and would eventually end up as my sister-in-law. (Oh, No! Of course, that’s not weird and awkward!)

2. It’s really not safe out there for girls and somebody would either catcall, tease or do something worse to me, and my brother would come to my rescue, bash those bad boys and make me realize how lucky I am to have a brother like my brother.

That’s pretty much it. Oh, and sometimes, I fall in love with a guy, who I later realize is my brother’s arch-enemy and was trapped as a means to get back at him. Heartbroken, I run crying to my brother who beats him up. Was it traumatic? you would ask. Nah, I’m just happy seeing my brother hit the guy who hurt me. Although I’d have to admit, this is far worse than being kidnapped by the arch-enemy. My point being, I am usually my brother’s vulnerability.

Apparently, having a sister makes one a better person. I totally agree with that. My brother and I are very close. We have meaningful conversations, discuss life, and have helped each other grow. But a movie can only be three hours long, right? You wouldn’t expect that time to include a little more about our bond and me now, would you?

PS – Think this is short? You should’ve figured out by now, that I don’t really have a lot to say.

2020 - I couldn't think of a better title

2020. A year in the distant future when the world would in that ideal phase with futuristic flying cars and advanced technology. The year where we’d have robots serving humans but slowly getting intelligent enough to try and overthrow humanity. The year I would turn 25, I used to laughingly think. I was very curious about how I’d be, what I’d be doing, and what my thoughts would be then. But the thought of me turning 25 has always been funny to me. It still is, when I am 24 and a half. Probably because I was the baby of my house and always remember my parents and my older brother laughing at almost everything I did. Neither my political opinions nor my sport team favorites were taken seriously. They were shrugged off and laughed at as a “baby’s opinion”. I was never offended. I laughed along with them. Somewhere deep down inside, I don’t take myself and my opinions seriously. I myself think my thoughts and opinions are “baby opinions”. The funny thing about writing, which I always notice, you start with one thing in your mind, with one goal, but as you type, things head in a completely different direction. I don’t even know why I mentioned about me considering myself a baby. I was talking about the year 2020. I even forgot what I wanted to say now.

Yes! So, this was always how I viewed 2020. And it just seemed so distant. Seemed like it would be a very long time before it finally came and now, it is less than 6 months away. And my 24 and a half years in this world have taught me that less than 6 months is not a very long time. Hell, 2020 was supposed to be like a hundred years away. How is it here so soon? How am I turning 25? How am I an adult already? In fact, 4 years past the “legal adult age”. I know it isn’t just me and everybody my age is going through this. But shouldn’t I have come to terms with all of this by now? Each year passes by real quick and with each passing year my age is going up but I don’t feel that old. I still feel like a teenager. In my mind, I am probably 16-17. Maybe that is what mental age means. I heard “old people” say mentally I am in my 20s. And by old, I mean people in their 40s. I realize that isn’t very old anymore. It is just like 20 years away and 20 years isn’t a very long time. Maybe my mental age is 16. I can’t believe I have a mental age now. It was supposed to be something only old people had. Am I old?

My 12-year-old cousin thinks I am old. Of course, there’s no way I am the youngest person on the planet. I might have enjoyed that privilege for a few milliseconds before it was taken away from me and then taken away from the person who took it away from me in the next few milliseconds. But it is still very difficult for me to accept the fact that I am this old. I don’t know if I’ll ever come to terms with it. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I think a part of my mental age is also contributed to the way I look. I look like a kid with my huge nerdy glasses. I see raised eyebrows whenever I mention I am 24. People I interact with are extra nice to me and call me “honey” and “sweetheart”. They probably wouldn’t if they knew I was 24. I see people younger than me, not called those things just because they look older. I go with it. I don’t correct people and act all confident like an adult. I act like a cute, confused kid because I like the treatment I get. Maybe that is also contributing to my denial and keeping me from accepting this “fleeting time” feelings I have.

If you’ve taken the time to read this random, structure-less bunch of words I’ve thrown together and got to this point, thank you! You didn’t have to, but you did, and I am grateful. If you feel like “OMG! That is exactly what I feel!” then “Tell me about it!!”. It always feels good to get that validation that you’re not the only one.

PS - I just realized I’ve mentioned my age at least a million times. Whoops!

Devasena : The Warrior Princess

We have all seen and loved Bahubali, The Beginning, and Bahubali, The Conclusion. It was a gargantuan project and the director, and the entire team is to be lauded for their dedication, their hard work and the near-perfection they achieved which is a first for Indian Cinema.  (Sorry I say near-perfection because I am obsessed with perfection, which is sometimes not a nice thing because I myself am so imperfect). What is even greater is that it was achieved by a regional film industry and not Bollywood, which is supposedly the biggest film industry in India. And I always feel proud to tell people that I am from that region where Bahubali was originally created, the Telugu speaking states.

Apart from the amazing performances from all its actors, their costumes, the way all the actors looked, the laudable VFX and compelling story-telling and screenplay, Bahubali was also admired for its strong female characters. Sivagami, the queen regent, ruled the kingdom of Mahishmati single-handedly with her righteousness. She was known for her excellent decision-making skills and was loved, trusted and respected by her people and subjects equally. This strong character has also got her origin story in the form of ‘The Rise of Sivagami’ which is the first part of a series of books called ‘Bahubali: Before the Beginning’ by Anand Neelakantan. (Off point, here’s what I thought of the book, it was my review on Goodreads –

The plot's all over the place. Would have been better if the author hadn't tried to pull a GRRM. I found many equivalents of ASOIAF characters in this book.
Bijjala - Joffery reincarnate
Kattappa - Ned Stark? With his sense of duty
Sivagami - Jon Snow, the favourite
Gundu Ramu - Samwell Tarly
There was also a dwarf who was into alcohol, whores, and sarcasm.
Don't think I will be returning to Anand Neelkantan's Mahishmati.)

Then there was also Avantika and not to forget another strong and important female character, Devasena, who defied Sivagami herself many times and was admired for her strong personality, bravery, and fighting skills which equaled and were greater than many warrior men.

And this article is entirely dedicated to Devasena, one of my favorite characters, who I realized recently on watching the movie again, is just another man in a woman’s body. Now, being a woman and clearly a feminist, who proved she could do very well what any man can do, you would expect her to not make certain comments which are condescending towards women. For instance, in her entry scene, she fights off bandits and then notices Bahubali and Kattappa and chides them for hiding amongst women when there was a fight going on.

In the second instance, she asks Bahubali to join her to kill some wild boars and when Kattappa tells her Bahubali can’t do it, she says, “Vantintlo koorchunte em vastundi?” which translates to he is not going to learn anything by sitting in the kitchen. Which is again, a term generally used to refer to women. They are weak, so they sit in the kitchen and work. Being a woman, and a highly evolved human being, (which is clearly depicted as a part of her personality throughout the film) I would expect her to respect what a woman does in the kitchen because it is not easy work and definitely not something weak people can do.

In another instance, when Sivagami’s marriage proposal reaches her and she denies it with a very arrogant reply, she asks Sivagami to deck her son up in jewelry and send him to her. This from my interpretation means your son is so weak that you should dress him up like a woman and send him over to me, so I can protect, and take good care of him. If you have noticed, Devasena is always decked in jewelry and she clearly didn’t consider herself weak.

These comments had me a little disappointed in the film. Looking and behaving like a woman is a sign of weakness and hearing these comments from another woman is the last thing you would expect. I might have just magnified things a little too much and people might put this whole thing off as another rant from another “pseudo-feminist”, but it just goes on to show how certain stereotypes are so deep-rooted in our society that people are now insensitive.

Does a strong female personality just mean a woman who behaves just like any other man? Something to think about.

The quest for the perfect 'DP' - Part 1

It was midnight and I was scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook when a message pops up on my screen. It was Priya. The moment I saw the message I knew it wasn’t one I could ignore. It read “MAJOR EMERGENCY!!”

I panicked a little and started wondering about what could possibly be wrong. Could it be her weight? Or was it mine? I knew I had slacked a little and eaten lots of pizza and ice cream the past few weeks, in spite of Priya’s repeated warnings. She must have overheard Shalini and gang talking about my big butt. I absolutely knew where this was going. The whole college knows Shalini has an eye on Babu. I myself was surprised when Babu said he was interested in me (lucky me) and that earned me the wrath of Shalini and her cronies. She was always looking at ways to steal him from me and this is going to be the perfect opportunity for her. Me getting fat and ugly is going to make Babu lose his interest in me and that’s when Shalini is going to swoop in, like the eagle she is, and carry him away from me. Oh no! This is a major emergency indeed!

I was brought out from my thought by another buzzing noise on my phone. It was Priya again with a ‘U DER?!!’ message.

ME: OMG! SUP? I think I know what this is about?

PRIYA: U do? Den y don’t u do something about it?

ME: I already have a plan in mind. Starting tmrw, I’m cutting down on carbs n will shift to fruits and salads for sustenance. It might be tough in the beginning but I will get used to it.

PRIYA: Wait! what r u talking about?

ME:  My weight gain which is gng to cost me my bf.

PRIYA: Oh, I totally 4got about that. I was referring 2 smthng else but now that I am reminded, YEAH! That’s smthng u gotta think of too.

ME: Wait! So what were U talking about?

PRIYA: Ur inactive social media account!

ME: What do u mean? I log into my fb and insta every day. I am active

PRIYA: But how do people know u r active?

ME: Uh…

PRIYA: U gotta keep uploading stuff. U c ur bf? He’s so active on social media. If u don’t catch up, u might as well give up on him.

ME: No! ☹ Tell me what I shud do then?

PRIYA: 1^st change that dp! It’s been a month since you changed last.

And there began my quest for the perfect DP.

The life of a smartphone - 5 (The epic finale)

A similar kind of incident had happened again. She had dropped me under a car. There were no regrets on her face when she was picking me up. She was very confident that I would be fine. Did she ever even realize how much effort and pain I had to undergo in order for her to still use me?

This doubt had been growing inside me since the bus incident. I felt I was being exploited and being taken for granted. I contacted my buddy from the shop who was also taken the same day as me by a different person. He told me that there were zero scratches on him and he had a tempered glass put on his screen instead of a mere scratch guard. He was in excellent condition and didn’t even know what being mistreated meant. When he heard of my condition, he said that it had only been a year and it couldn’t be that I was already in such a bad condition. “We are supposed to last much longer. Not make efforts to say alive only after a year of use. This is supposed to happen maybe four or five years down the line” he said.

Listening to all this I had decided that I was indeed being taken for granted. I wasn’t being appreciated for my efforts and was instead being scolded, cursed and laughed at for them. I wasn’t liking it anymore. I wasn’t liking her anymore.

One day, she went to the toilet with me. She had started doing this 6 months ago. Days were still good back then but not as good as they were in the beginning. She sat down on the toilet seat holding me tight. But that tightness was making her hands sweat and all that sweat made me slip and fall into the water below. I can’t even describe the horror I felt when I fell in. It felt very bad. No smartphone should ever go through what I went through that day.

I could see the horror in her face. Then I saw her expression, she was deep in thought contemplating whether to take me out or not. It pained me so much to see that expression. I still held on, because I still loved her but what happened today was the maximum humiliation I could take.

She somehow got me out and looked at me. I was still holding on but it was getting tougher. She thanked her stars that I was still working but my screen got stuck and didn’t respond to her touch. I was done with her. I couldn’t take any of it anymore. She switched me off and tried to switch me on again. But I was dead!

This voice inside me is still alive and I keep seeing her everyday trying to switch me back on again, trying to go to shops to get me back to normal again but the other parts inside me have told that they can’t function anymore because of all that water inside. She keeps going to shops, she has visited three already to revive me but I have decided that even if some miracle happens and all the other parts start working I am officially done with her and won’t let them work for her anymore.

She is very determined and not ready to give up so easily on me. She keeps opening the cupboard she has thrown me in, everyday, taking me out, running her fingers on me and asking me to start working again. She keeps telling me how much she loves me, how well she would treat me once I get back to normal. But I know better. I am not falling for her lies no matter how much earnest they sound.

She has gone back to using a smaller phone again and I hear her telling her parents that she doesn’t want a new phone and will try every possible option to get me to work again. Sometime I feel sorry for her and think I should maybe start working just to see that sparkle in her eyes again, but then I know what will happen a few months later. Everything will go back to normal. I am better off like this without my human.

P.S. – This is in loving memory of my Asus Zenfone 5 which, I dropped in the toilet (I know all of you are going to judge me now). I finally, went to the Asus service center (my last resort) and they said the motherboard is gone and it would cost me 11k INR to get it changed. I was devastated and didn’t buy a new phone for many days. Yes! I did get attached to it. But finally, I did get a new phone because life goes on and you’ve got to go along with it. I still love my Asus Zenfone. But my new phone a Lenovo Vibe K4 Note is good too. However, I am not very sure if it is as happy with me as I am with it. It must be having a million complaints just like my Zenfone but trust me I have changed a lot after my Asus. I still am not over it!  :’( :*

The life of a smartphone -4

It grew more and more worse as time went. She used to leave me to charge overnight and I used to get heated up. Before, she always made sure she never did this by putting an alarm and waking up in the middle of the night and then switching off the charging port. She had gotten very careless with me now.

Then came the summers. I was always hot and needed some cooling down. But she never stopped leaving me to charge overnight. This caused me to heat up even more and I started getting slower. I was so hot that everything was a daze. I couldn’t process anything properly. I heard her telling her friend that I was useless and getting more and more slack by the day. It hurt me so much.

She was constantly hurting me. But I loved her so. I tried in many ways to prove myself to her. Tried to say that I wasn’t so stupid and useless, that I was a great phone. I started working overtime and it didn’t help me in any way. All those extra hours of work were making my processor slower and my battery drain faster which in turn caused her to curse me more. I remember sitting late into the night praying and asking God (if there was one) to show me a way, to make her like me again, to make her love me the way she did in the beginning. Whatever I did only seemed to make things worse. Nothing seemed to work.

One day, after maybe a year of our relationship, she was boarding a bus holding me in her hand. She never put me inside a bag or anything as she was afraid of thieves who would try and steal me. But they wouldn’t if they had seen my condition. I was scratched all over my screen and my paint had come off in many places. There was also this SIM card problem I was facing. Who would have wanted to steal such a phone? So anyway, as she was boarding the bus I felt myself slip from her hands. I wanted to protest but she was in a hurry to get onto the bus. And then it happened. I fell face down on the road under the bus. The moment I fell I felt so much pain! I thought I would die! But all my love for her came to my mind and I thought I had to stay alive at least for her sake. Because no matter how much she mistreated me, I believed she would miss me terribly if I was gone. So with great effort I held on until I felt a hand pick me up. It was her and she was looking at me to see if anything had gone wrong. If not for a few extra scratches on my screen I was fine. She heaved a sigh of relief and got onto the bus where the driver was already scolding her for holding up the line of people getting into the bus.

She got in, sat next to her friend and said “Thank God my phone’s so insensitive. If it were as sensitive as your phone it would never have switched on again.” She and her friend started laughing about the entire incident and I somehow, deep down inside, knew that this incident had given her confidence about my robustness and she would get even more careless with me. But I hoped she would realize how careless she had been and would treat me with a little respect. A little hope never killed anyone, right? But hope was all I had I realized.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet – Jamie Ford

Genre – Historical fiction

***WARNING – SPOILERS (Hell, I’ve given out the entire story) AHEAD. PROCEED WITH CAUTION***

Historical fiction is one genre I’m into these days. I loved Orphan Train (by Christina Baker Kline) and jumped at the prospect of reading another such story. So, I bought this book from the Kindle store with free kindle ebook coupons I got with Top Ramen instant noodles (This offer was amazing! I got coupons worth INR 300 and bought 5 books with that. Isn’t that super cool? I’m not sure if the offer still exists though). Coming back to the point, I read a few reviews and was skeptical of it being another regular love story but the author cleared all my doubts because the moment I started the book I was hooked! There was no stopping and the book left me controlling my tears (tears of happiness of course, this book has a happy ending and will leave you satisfied).

The book keeps switching between the WWII times and the late 1980s (the present) and follows the life of Henry Lee, a Chinese immigrant. He is introduced as a widower having a troubled relationship with his college going son who finds Henry very traditional and illiberal. A completely different side of Henry is shown in the past where he is a rebel and quite the adventurer. He meets Keiko Okabe, a Japanese girl at his American school. It is to be noted that this was also a time when Japan were the bad guys and were at war with both America and China, thus causing China to support America in the World War. Keiko and Henry have many things in common. She is also in the school on a scholarship and is subject to bullying for being the traitor (Henry is often mistaken to be Japanese by the Americans). Although Henry is a Chinese at heart (his father’s influence) and has his doubts about being friends with someone from Japan, they both bond and there springs a special kind of love between them. One that is so pure and innocent and can only happen between 12 year olds. They start meeting each other after school at Japantown, which he is forbidden to enter by his father and which is also where Keiko lives. Then comes a time every Japanese is speculated for being a spy and helping Japan. The Okabes are also subject to it despite them being staunch Americans. All the Japanese are evacuated and Henry’s heart breaks. They are sent off to live in camps and right when you think “Please don’t tell me this is over” comes the saving grace in the form of Mrs. Beatty, the cook at school who offers to take Henry to the camps to help her out. He visits the camp every weekend and eventually finds the Okabes and Keiko. Back at home however, things go bad when his parents find out about his feelings for Keiko and his father is furious. Our hero however defies his father which leads to a break in their relationship. A few days later, Keiko’s camp relocates and Henry is all sad about the things he couldn’t do and the words he couldn’t say. His friend Sheldon, the jazz player and also a brother figure, offers to help him out and they both visit Keiko’s new camp. He finds Keiko there and he stays there for the night. He later leaves and they promise to write to each other. When he gets back home he learns that his father had suffered from a major stroke and can’t speak anymore. He also learns that is father is planning to send him to China to finish his studies. He refuses to go but eventually gives in when he learns that Keiko has moved on and has forgotten him. You can’t help but feel angry and frustrated at Keiko at this point and sympathize with Henry. He later finds love in Ethel, the girl who works at the post office, posts his letters to Keiko and later sympathizes with him just like us (I should’ve guessed this). His parents approve of her and they get married after he returns from China. However, he still can’t forget Keiko and before he leaves to China, the day his dad dies, his dad confesses to him that he had stopped the letters from Keiko and had done it for his own good (I should’ve guessed this too). Heartbroken, Henry moves on with his life.

Coming back to the present, Henry’s memories of Keiko are rekindled when he finds a few of her possessions and also the jazz record they held so dear (now broken into two) in the titular Panama Hotel. He tells his son Marty Lee and, his Caucasian fiancé all this and they work on tracing Keiko (you might’ve guessed this). They surprise Henry by giving him Keiko’s whereabouts and there’s a happy reunion (so guessable).

Now, every aspect of this story would make for a beautiful film. There’s a sad love story with a happy ending, villains who get the punishment they deserve, signature items and words like the ‘I’m a Chinese’ badge, the jazz record, the Japanese greeting, which keep recurring throughout the book. Every aspect of it is so predictable (Although I didn’t predict most of them and still curse myself for being so dumb) but the beauty is in the writing style. The author has set up a clever trap where you get so immersed in the words you are reading that you don’t bother to think about what happens next and that is when he springs the twists (how much ever small they may be) upon you. He takes you on this emotional rollercoaster and you leave all cares and readily go with him. I know you might read this review and think of how banal a story this is, but I would advise you to give the writer a chance to work his magic on you.

P.S. Would love to see this book made into a movie. Given that the story is made as it is without any exaggerations and deviations that Hollywood is notorious for.

Rating – 4.25/5 (Marks deducted for my dumbness :P)

Bone Gap - Laura Ruby

Genres it fits into- Magic, Romance, Mystery, Young Adult

Set in the town of Bone Gap, Illinois, this book has been classified into the magic-realism genre. The main concept of this book is perspective. It deals with the concept of face-blindness (one I’ve never heard of) which is interesting as well as intriguing.

Finn O’Sullivan, the protagonist resides in the city of Bone Gap and is thought be a little ‘spacey’ and out of touch with reality. He lives with his older brother Sean. One day, a very bright, beautiful girl named Roza appears at their place and all the people of Bone Gap come to love her in a very short time. However, after a little happy time together, she disappears as mysteriously as she appeared. According to Finn she was kidnapped and he’s the only witness. His reputation for being delusional causes everybody to distrust him and even suspect him of the kidnapping. Can Finn prove his innocence? Does Roza ever return? Will the O’Sullivan boys who have been so used to people leaving them ever be able to find true love? That is what forms the rest of the story.

This book definitely makes for an interesting read. It was nominated for the National Award for Young People’s Literature, so it is a biggie. The author Laura Ruby is known for her unique content (a little bit of online research told me so). This is the first book of hers that I’ve read. According to me, the book is no page-turner, meaning it didn’t keep me at the edge of my seat. It wasn’t even supposed to actually. It was more of a romance than a thriller but I was not once bored as long as I read the book. So this book would make for a really good one-time read. I can assure you that by the end of the book you’ll feel all positive and happy and good inside. This is definitely not one of those tragedies, which would keep you up all night wondering if there was any way you could make the author change his or her mind. On a scale of 1 to 5 I’d give it a 4.

P.S.: God, I’m really bad at reviewing stuff. All I think in my mind is, if you want to read it, read it, if you don’t want to, don’t. I wonder if that makes any sense at all. I’ll be back with more reviews though. :P Stay tuned.

The life of a smartphone-3

  She was with me most of the day. We were so compatible and inseparable, much to her parent’s dismay. I heard her parents shouting at her to put down her phone (me) and come to dinner. Her mother told her father once that it was a mistake getting me home as she had completely stopped interacting with people. “Always with that phone” I heard her mother grumbling to herself most of the time.

The first few days were the best. Then one day, I couldn’t feel her SIM card inside me. I didn’t know why this happened and I wanted to tell her that. Then, a friend came to her and said “I’ve been trying to call you, the call doesn’t connect. It says your phone’s switched off.” With a confused expression she turned to me. “This has never happened before” she said. “Yeah! I don’t know what’s wrong. So glad you noticed.” I was saying. She pressed a few times on my screen to no avail. I was afraid she’d get to that part and finally she did. She opened my behind to check if everything was ok. This will pass soon enough I kept telling myself. Moreover, I shouldn’t be afraid of this pain anymore. I was advised by the used ones. So I put on a brave face and bore it.  I felt her remove the SIM card and put it back again. Everything cleared. I could feel her SIM again. Phew! I thought something was seriously wrong with me. I could see the relief on her face too. “Don’t know what went wrong though” I heard her telling her friend. Things like this should never happen again I thought.

But then, it did. I couldn’t detect her SIM another day, she did the same thing and I went back to normal again. This started happening even more frequently. My behind was opened so frequently that I stopped feeling the pain, which was the only good thing that came out of this. I didn’t know what was wrong. I could see the irritation on her face whenever this happened. No! I didn’t like seeing her like that. She was always smiling whenever she was with me and this was new and I wasn’t liking it. Every day, I prayed I’d work fine. This didn’t happen daily, but once in 2 or maybe 3 days, it happened. And then, she started being rude and careless with me. She still was with me for most of the day, but she was not as loving and caring as she was before. She started throwing me on her bed or the couch which was in sharp contrast to the gentleness she used to shower me with before.

Then one day, she was downloading an application into me, but I was already bloating with so much music, so many pictures and applications. I didn’t think I had space for more and so, I told her that. The next thing that came out of her mouth was so painful, I can’t even describe how much it hurt. “Stupid phone” she cursed aloud.

The life of a smartphone-2

The man reappeared and I could hear what he was talking on the phone. He was talking about me. I heard him say ”I bought a new phone today… Yeah!...  Don’t you know about it? Everyone’s buying it these days… Yeah, it has been rated the top smartphone… I know, everybody in our house already has a smartphone and we got ours recently… Oh, yeah! Chutki can have it!.. I know, she totally deserves it.” Chutki, that caught my attention. Is that who my new owner is? “Yeah, the next time I come there we’ll give it to her… Ok then, I’m tired, Bye!” That was the end of the conversation. I wondered who this Chutki was and what it would be like to be with her, or was it a he? I didn’t know if it was excitement or fear, but I couldn’t wait to see Chutki.

I had to wait for a month and a half to be taken out and used again. The man who bought me had a family living in another country and he wanted to present me to some member in his family, so I had to wait until he went to his home country, I could make out that much. Then finally one day I saw the man packing his bags. The room in which he lived was being cleared and I also saw him handing over the keys to some other man. Maybe this was it. This was the time I would finally meet Chutki. Oh God, I’m such a nervous wreck. I’m simply unable to control whatever emotion I’m feeling right now. Before I could think further, I was picked up and thrusted into darkness. Maybe I was inside a bag, on my way to meet Chutki.

After 12 hours (I was keeping track of the time) I finally saw light. The moment the cover the box which was holding me opened I saw a girl. So Chutki was a girl after all. She had thick framed glasses which magnified her eyes. And her eyes, they were all big with happiness and excitement. She was so happy to see me and I myself couldn’t control my happiness. Girls are really good to their phones the used ones told me. I indeed was lucky!

We had a whole lot of fun that day. Only the two of us, we stayed awake till late in the night. I never stayed up so late. I was asleep most of the time in the past month. She first inserted her SIM and memory cards into my behind. She had a huge collection of songs in her memory card and they really were good. She started installing lots of apps apps. I was slowly filling up. Then she took lots of pictures of me and pictures of her using my camera. “The camera is awesome! I can take so many selfies with this” I heard her say to her parents. I was so glad she liked me. Fun times were ahead and I could feel it in my gut! We looked so cool together! I totally love her! Man, it felt good to be used!

Word magic

After having exhausted all my creativity in a day and a half, I’m left with nothing to write. Do I really have that shallow a creative well? Well, having nothing to write and wanting to write something I decided to write about writing itself.

When I was this serial procrastinator and was too lazy for everything, my mother always said, “Start writing and the words will take you wherever they want to be.” That is what is happening right now. My mind has no control over my fingers as I’m typing this. The words just want to come out. They’ve a mind of their own and they are just holding me by the hand (literally) and taking me to whatever place they want to go. Yeah, maybe that was how masterpieces like Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings were created. The stories just had to be told and there was no stopping them. The words were pretty clever, I must say, to choose such brilliant media to deliver them and were adamant enough to make those media give them such a fine shape and had them finished off so beautifully.

And I didn’t realize I just made a post! Words sure are magic and if you’re waiting for some inspiration or maybe a huge truck to give you a push, don’t! Just start typing and the words will take you to the right place, which is maybe their word paradise. J

Showering experiences

Lazy weekends. The times when you don’t want to do anything. Just sleep all day. Don’t want to leave your bed. Don’t even want to take a shower. The thought of a shower is just so painful. It involves so much of work. Like taking off your clothes, washing and scrubbing your body with a soap until you are pink in the face and then washing that soap off and after that you have to dry your body and put some clothes on again. Man! That’s a lot of work. Nobody wants to work on a weekend. So you don’t bathe one day and the next day you wake up, you find yourself stinking. But you simply don’t want to shower and you don’t. Then the week begins and you have to shower, if not for yourself at least to save others from that stink. So if you’re going to work or school, you shower on Monday. But for people like me (on a vacation since two months and will be for another month and a half) it is really difficult to get myself into the shower. It takes a lot of pushing from the inside. I can’t stay without showering for a week and I can’t go to the shower right now because I’m just so lazy. I simply can’t! After a lot of pushing and coaxing myself, I go in and start the process.

Now, the moment I go into the bathroom and start the shower, I don’t know, there is like this force field of inspiration surrounding me. My brain is teeming with ideas and there’s no stopping them. The words just keep popping into my mind, becoming sentences and going on to become paragraphs. I find myself making up the speech for when I receive the Nobel or the Pulitzer Prize and they’re just so perfect. Things like the title of my future novel and its beginning lines all come so naturally to me. The Facebook post I’d put up if something really strange happened to me, like if I was abducted by aliens or if I came to know of a prophecy which stated that I was the lost hero, meant to save this world and relieve it of all its miseries. I think of a lot of Facebook posts I’d put up if something happened, but those somethings never happen and maybe that is the reason I post so rarely on Facebook. My study plans, how I would study for the coming exam, how I would totally ace it and what kind of suggestions I’d give to my peers and juniors who are so in awe about me and are listening so attentively and taking down notes of whatever I’m saying. It takes me a lot of effort to get out of that shower again. It is this magical place, which shows everything I ever wanted like the ‘Mirror of Erised’. It is unbelievable and it takes me lots of effort and determination to get out of there.

Once I get out of that shower, I’m determined to make my life the way I want it to be! The warm water felt so good on my skin. I feel neat and refreshed and also very drowsy! I’ll do everything I ever wanted to do! I’ll start off immediately after this short nap I’m taking. So, I go back to sleep and the cycle repeats. 

Types of ‘what are you doing?’ people

‘What are you doing?’ is a question most commonly asked in my country and it would do you good to be ready with an impressive answer. Especially in the cases of fresh graduates (like me), this question is asked by every person my age or older than me.  Even before knowing how I’m doing, people want to know what I am doing.  By now, you might’ve figured out that saying “I’m talking to you” or “I’m enjoying my free time” would do nothing but earn disgusting stares from the person asking you that question.

The question is a constant. Everybody asks the same question. What matters is the motive. Each person that asks you what you’re doing differ in why they’re asking you that. For instance, there are the curious people. They usually have a database in their mind of what everybody is doing. By everybody I mean students because those are the ones that matter. Adults are boring! They ask you what you are doing out of sheer curiosity and are satisfied with whatever answer you give. People usually go to the curious ones if they really want to know about a particular person but don’t want to go and ask them directly. And also what you are doing is always a topic to gossip about even though it isn’t that juicy. There’s nothing like a juicy topic and a not-so-juicy topic for gossip. Because of their good rapport with everyone in the neighborhood, they gather information and make it a part of their everyday gossip.

Then, there are the smug people. They usually have a really well settled son or a daughter (‘well-settled’ according to them and all the neighbors around). So most of the conversation is focused on how well their children are doing. So even they don’t bother about what your answer is, because they really don’t care. They just for the sake of manners.

There are also the know-it-alls. Ok, it so happened that their son or daughter chose a particular career, went in a particular path and were successful. Their parents know all about what their child went through and supported them through it all which is really nice. So they really have commendable knowledge of the career path their child chose. But they don’t stop at that. They think they know everything, from how to correctly raise a child to the theory of relativity. They’re sitting there listening, like a predator waiting to pounce on prey and the moment you finish your answer they pounce! They immediately start giving you reasons why you shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing and even go on to give parenting lessons to your parents.

And finally, there are the scared people. Scared, because they are really afraid that you might be better than their child. Now, nobody listens to your answer as closely as they do. That is usually because they have a son or daughter of your age and the answer you give is for comparison purposes. They usually don’t give out any emotion or expression to whatever you’re saying. But inside their mind, they’ve heard every single word and are processing, calculating and comparing the answer with the answer their child has ready. If they think you are better off, they go home, sullen faced and continue urging their kids to do better than you and everybody else who is doing better than them, which they’ve been doing their entire lives. If they think you’re not doing so well, they go home, all happy and cheerful and might even treat their kids for being the best!

A very close observation of people asking me the ‘question’ has provided me with all these details. There might be people who don’t fit into any of these categories and deserve a category all to themselves. J

The life of a smartphone

I used to live on a stand, open for everybody to look at. People used to come play with my screen with their fingers for a few times and leave. I always waited with bated breath for the one person who’d pick me and take me with them. Finally, a person did and he was middle aged man with a stern looking face and a thick moustache. He examined me a few times, played with my screen and told the person beside him that he wanted me. So I was taken to the counter and was wrapped up in my cover. I was not used to closed spaces but I felt strangely comfortable in my cover. It was darkness after that. I couldn’t see a thing and could only feel a few bumps inside my cover, like an earthquake. When I could see again, I was in a small cramped room with a bed and green paint on its walls. He took me out from where I was comfortably snuggled up and opened my behind. He examined me a bit and closed it. Well, it does hurt a bit when your behind is opened but it was a part of life. I personally wasn’t very much used to getting my behind opened but the used phones that came to the store told us how we must get used to getting our behind opened because that’s how frequently it happened. Some of the used ones were really scary. They looked hideous with their cracked screens and sometimes the covers for their behind weren’t there. But not all of them were like that. A few used ones were not bad to look at with only a few scratches on their screen. Scratches were a part of being used by people they said. They always had a smug face while talking to us and they always said being bought and used by a person is the only way a phone could feel complete. The hideous used ones always stressed on the importance of getting picked up by a good person, one who is “phone friendly”. They had really bad stories to tell about their owners and they always wished all of us newbies landed into the hands of good ones. From the moment I was picked up I was really excited. I wondered what kind of a person my owner was. Was he going to treat me well? Would I be happy with him? All these questions were cut short when I saw another phone on the bed. It was smart too, but it had a smaller screen than mine. It looked at me and said, “This one has gotten me recently. I’m new too. A few weeks old, that’s all. Is he bored of me already?” Well, there was no denying I was much better looking than the other one. I was lighter and had a bigger and a better screen. That one lying on the bed was fat and heavy. No wonder he got bored of it so soon. I was way better! But then, he came into the room and picked up the other one to make a call. Wait! Aren’t people supposed to be smitten with new phones? I thought he was so excited that he couldn’t wait to use me. The other one looked at me and mouthed the words “You aren’t for him” as it disappeared outside the door with the man.

Me, trying to cool up!

I’m no oldie but there are a few things many people in this “young generation” do that I don’t understand at all. No matter how much I try, I’m simply unable to do it and be like them. Since most of them are doing it, whatever they are doing is supposed to be cool, I assumed. But no matter how much I try, I’m unable to “cool up”, you know what I mean. And these cool people have really cool friends who are really cool, like they hang out, go to real fun places, are there for each other when they cry, and the best part! The birthdays!!! So yeah, whenever there is a birthday of anybody in their “squad” (FYI [For your information] squad is THE word cool people use for their cool group of friends and they have “squad goals” which aim at being cooler than the coolest basically. Didn’t you know that? Well, I’m better than you!) the rest of the squad ensures that the birthday person is made to feel good. First, they show up at the birthday person’s place with a cake (yum) at 12 AM in the midnight (wow) and of course, the birthday person doesn’t expect it in the least (what a surprise!). So the birthday person cuts the cake and the rest sing the happy birthday song real loud (No, cool people don’t care about neighbours and stuff) and then comes the best part! Smearing the cake on the birthday person’s face! Yaaay!! (“Such a waste!” OMG [Oh, my God!] Did I say something uncool?). Not to forget the millions of pictures that are to be taken with the “cake facial”. And yeah, if there’s any cake left the birthday person smears it on the faces of the rest of the squad as revenge (Were you thinking they’d eat it? That’s not how cool people work!). Then comes the gift opening time. Oh, and the gifts are super amazing, trust me! There’s a collage showing all your pictures, selfies (that’s what cool people do all. the. time.), pictures with your friends and pictures of all the best moments in your life! (Awww! I wish someone’d do that for me. Wait! I don’t have so many pictures. I’m going to change this immediately after I finish writing this!). There’s also a poster, a t-shirt, a coffee mug and other such items which have quotes and pictures of the birthday person’s favourite TV show or band or whatever fandom they belong to (Oh, c’mon! Don’t tell me you don’t watch TV or Youtube!). When it comes to closing the midnight session (the day has only begun ;) ) the squad gathers to take pictures, pictures of all of them together, pictures of an individual from the squad with the birthday person, pictures of the couple in the squad (Oh, they are the cutest!), if the birthday person is a part of the couple, then that’s even more better, because they get extra special treatment (what’s more cute than a couple in love?), pictures with the gifts and pictures basically, lots and lots of them!

Then comes the time to upload all this fun on social media (It’s your birthday and the whole world has to know, right?). Now, here comes the tricky part, writing about how much fun they had. Yeah, I can write but not like the cool people K. So there’s this thing called a “hashtag” and I’m simply unable to get my mind around the question of how to use it. For a long time, I didn’t know what it was (OK, don’t judge me now) and I couldn’t ask anyone (for the fear of being labelled uncool) so the nerd in me looked up to Google (the one thing that has consistently helped me act cool before the “coolies” [OK, cool people is just too long]) which gave me this definition. “A hashtag is a type of label or metadata tag used on social network and microblogging services which makes it easier for users to find messages with a specific theme or content.” (Source: Wikipedia). But that somehow didn’t answer my questions. The definition didn’t match its practical application, the way in which people were using it. My observation and general analysis of the coolies revealed that there were various ways in which a hashtag could be used and I just couldn’t get my mind to stick to one. There were people who used it for every word in the sentence like #I #am #so #happy and then there were people who just used one hashtag for the entire sentence like #Iamsohappy (which makes it really difficult for a dunce like me to figure out what exactly they were saying in cases like #gotitdone, is it go tit done? That doesn’t sound right?) and there were people whose entire posts consisted of hashtags and their post was made up of just words and phrases with hashtags to describe their exerience like #b’day #cake #happy #surprise #squadlove #yum #cakesmear (so clever). As much as I wanted to look cool, I couldn’t figure out these hashtags. I’m still doing my research about the best way to use them and one day, I will succeed in looking cool (hashtag wise).

Later in the day the squad meets up again and all of them hang out together (Doesn’t all this hanging hurt their arms?). Ummm..When do they go out with their families? (Oh no! I’ve said something uncool again, haven’t I?). Of course coolies don’t have time for the family! They go to really cool places like for instance a bowling alley, or a very expensive restaurant or a lounge or a, pub (pubs are the coolest dude!). Time for more pictures and “check-ins”. So they post on Facebook saying they were at “cool place” with 7 others which is essentially what a “check-in” on social media means (for all you dunces out there). All these posts are immediately uploaded on all the social media accounts of all the squad members. The birthday person’s Wall (The Facebook Wall) is flooded with posts from all the squad members. Bonus! Posts from the old squad members like your school squad for example (you gotta have more than one squad if you’re cool, that’s the whole point!) with lovely pictures from your school days and excruciatingly (ok, cool people don’t use such big words) long posts saying how much the birthday person means to them and how much they miss the birthday person with of course, a picture from their school days (Ah! The memories!)

There ends a very happy birthday of a coolie. They finally put a post stating how much they love the squad and stating how much this birthday was better than the last one. This entire process repeats again for their next birthday and the one after that. How can you say one birthday was better than the last when all your birthdays are the same? (Uncool again! I think I should just shut up and keep my thoughts to myself!)

We are innocent

“Global warming, rising temperatures, so many catastrophes. What have we humans done to this planet? We have made our lives miserable for ourselves, there’s no doubt about that.  What about the other poor, intellectually inferior species we haven’t even taken into consideration. They are also having to face the consequences of our actions. Many species of flora and fauna have silently gone extinct and there was nothing anybody could do about it. It’s time we wake up to reality and start making some effort towards saving our planet. Let us work towards preserving our species as well as those that surround us.” These are all the common dialogues or sentences we frequently hear or come across from the “environmental lovers” who care about the planet and its life. Humans are the main target in all these talks or writings and are blamed for all sorts of atrocities towards the planet. We humans show no mercy in criticizing ourselves for all that we have done.

There is certainly no exaggeration in saying that we, humans are the prime reason for the deteriorating environment and life around us. But there’s also no denying the fact that nothing lasts forever. Nothing is permanent and everything created will eventually be destroyed. Humans, animals, plants, trees and the planet earth as a whole has to come to an end sometime or the other. So what if none of this is our fault. Maybe this is how it was meant to be. Maybe we are all part of a larger game plan which involves us behaving the way we do. Maybe we were meant to evolve intellectually, make lives easier for ourselves, injure the planet in that process and die finally, taking down the entire planet with us.

There are many interesting theories suggesting that there is a greater entity controlling us. That our pseudo feelings of self-importance are something to be laughed at. One of them is the SIMS theory. SIMS is a famous video game which involves simulating a virtual world. The player is required to create virtual people called “SIMS”, tend to their desires and needs and establish their lives. The SIMS theory puts forward the possibility of humans being “SIMS”. It essentially states that all of us were actually created by someone and that he/she is just playing a game of SIMS with us. Makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it? Because that is what we do with our lives. Whoever is playing must be one messed up person. Even in literature, there are books that suggest the same. For example, in the bestseller “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” by the renowned Douglas Adams it was said that the Earth was just a supercomputer created by mice (of all the animals) to perform experiments which would eventually help them (mice) understand the meaning of life. Well, that definitely deflates all our egos.

So if the theories stated above are true, doesn’t that make us humans innocent? We are mere puppets being controlled by “something else”. That “something else” is to be blamed for whatever is happening to us. That “something else” has programmed us in this self-destructive way to maybe satisfy its philosophical needs or maybe just have fun. Doesn’t that make all our efforts redundant? All our “Save the Planet” campaigns and programs are futile because whatever is controlling us has maybe already made up its mind and will do what it has to do despite our efforts. We aren’t that bad after all.

But I also don’t deem it right to stop all our efforts. We are stronger and will put up a fight. As the classic poem by Dylan Thomas goes “Do not go gentle into that good night”, we won’t rest and will keep fighting for whatever we know and have come to love.

Defying the fairy tale laws-2

So I spent a little time running about like I always wanted to. Savoring the grass beneath my feet and the sun kissing my skin. I rolled about until a tree hit me. That was when I realized I was only 16. There was so much life to live. There was so much that could be done! Oh, how surprised mother and father would be when they’d see me!

My mother was the queen of our kingdom. She was the warrior and the one giving all the commands. She was the one with all the powers when it came to matters regarding the welfare of the kingdom. She was basically the King but for obvious reasons people referred to her as ‘Queen’. Since the day I was born I had everyone telling me how much I looked like her. My father had been very handsome man. Or so I was told because he died when I was only 2 years old. I barely have any memories of him but my mother told me that he loved me greatly and was really particular about what I wore, how I looked and behaved. Well, he basically used to give me all the princess training I needed. Then he died and my mother remarried.

She was coaxed into marriage by her relatives (who are usually the ones responsible for all the wrong decisions in life) and courtiers. She refused for a long time. But then one day, she suddenly came home with a man and declared him her husband. Naturally, everybody was shocked. That man was my step-father and I consider him my father. I remember I used to love playing with him. He treated me so well. The people loved him and so did my mother. We were a happy family until that cursed Dragon snatched me away from all that happiness.

My father had always counted on a prince to come save me. Would he be shocked to see me come all alone? How would my mother react? It had been 6 years since I last saw them. I couldn’t wait to see their faces. God, I was so excited! But I couldn’t help this dread growing inside me about the future.

“What next?” I thought as I came out of the castle gates.

Tollywood zindabad!

So, I've been watching Telugu (which happens to be my mother tongue) movies all my life. As a kid, I was fascinated (only till the break when I used to eat Potato chips and cry or sleep after I was done eating). Anyway, that doesn't matter now. The point is, I was enthralled by what was going on in front of me and I used to like every movie I saw. A movie was something to be liked. Not liking a movie wasn't even an option.
As I grew up, things started getting complicated. This thing called reality happened and I started getting more judgemental and critical. I couldn't help but notice a pattern in all these movies. They'd gotten predictable.

The hero.
Attributes: The guy who always saves the day. Is 6 feet tall and very handsome (or at least described to be because you can't be a HERO without that). Is so good at heart that he helps the poor and needy (usually when the heroine is watching him). Whatever he does leads to the villain's wrath and he sends his goons to finish the hero off. Thankfully, he was born with the fighting skills of a professional and doesn't need any formal training. He has a really depressing past. Loves the heroine, usually at first sight. Teases and harasses her as that is the only way to her heart. Always has his best friend beside him. The best friend isn't as strong and handsome as the hero. He is usually for comic relief. The hero sometimes comes with a sister. Sometimes, the best friend or the sister die in the past and so the hero has taken it upon himself to kill whoever as killed them. Not to forget the parents. They might also have died in the past or were cheated by the villain. Slapping the comedian! Now, that is his favorite hobby.

The heroine.
Attributes: The flawless beauty. All the guys are after her. She is usually a rich, spoiled brat. Also, in most cases the villain's daughter. The first person to be approached by the hero in his master plan to defeat the villain. As we all know, the first step in defeating the villain is making his daughter fall in love with you. She hates the hero's guts. But then in an unexpected turn of events it is revealed that she has always loved the hero and was just teasing him by acting uninterested. She usually has a gang of giggling girlies. All of them love the hero and coax her to fall in love with him. She falls out of love with the hero (usually in the second half of the film) when she comes to know that he was doing all of it to get to her father. But, the hero with his charm and pure love wins her heart back. Not seen much during the film but whenever she comes, there's a dream sequence song in some exotic foreign location with either snow or flowers matching the hero and heroine's clothes.

The villain
Attributes: The bad guy. Because no story can be complete without a guy trying to ruin the hero's otherwise perfect life. Gets mad with rage when he comes to know his daughter is in love with his enemy. Sends his goons to finish him off. The hero fights them all effortlessly. Little does the poor villain know, that all these fights and kicking asses is making the hero even more attractive to his daughter. Is usually a very intelligent person but suddenly loses all his brain power when the hero starts executing his master plan. Usually, in the second half it is revealed why the hero hates him so much. Tries to make his daughter fall out of love with the hero but it doesn't work. In the end, when all his goons are dead or seriously injured he personally fights the hero. In some cases, he realizes his mistake and apologizes to the hero (all it takes is a sorry) while, in some other cases he dies and everyone (including his very own daughter, because she had been informed by the hero how bad a man her father was) rejoices. Could there be a more pathetic life?

Those are the characters that matter. There are also characters like the comedians. The best friend comedian and the arrogant comedian. The arrogant comedian loses all his arrogance after a few slaps from the hero. There is the sad family of the hero, the sad mother of the heroine and the group of dancers who are seen only in dances that are shot locally (because duh! taking all of them abroad would cost a lot).
Add six songs three in the first half and three in the second, lots of fights, including a few scenes shot in slo-mo, a few sentimental scenes with the hero's family and his best friend and there, your Telugu blockbuster film is all ready to hit the audience (literally).


P.S.- I'm a fan of Telugu cinema. It is nice to see people appreciating different kind of movies these days but there are still a few things the directors and the actors haven't grown out of. I think it is absolutely necessary for them come out of it.

Think about it!

Think of it this way. You wake up in the morning. You have to get to college. The alarm has been ringing since half an hour. You don't want to wake up! Finally, you jump out of your bed, looking at the clock, panicking. You have to get to the bus stop and catch a bus. The lecturer who takes the first class at 9 won't scold you for coming late but gives you a disgusted look which can make you want to die. You have been looking at that disgusted face for quite sometime but not enough time to get used to it and so you want to go on time at least this once.  There's a bus which reaches your university at exactly 9 AM.  It comes to the bus stop at 8.15 AM. It's 7.30 already! You rush to the bathroom. Do the necessary quickly. Stuff some food into your mouth while listening to your mother shout and complain about your lack of time sense.

You reach the bus stop at 8.15 exactly and before you can relieve your lungs of all the carbon-dioxide that has been accumulating in it, the bus arrives. It has stopped a few steps ahead of the spot you are and you run towards it. It's the rush hour. Everybody has to get to work or school and the bus stop is crowded. Before you reach the bus there are already people entering it and you lose your hope of getting a seat. You have to stand for about 40 minutes but you are willing to do that as you are desperate to avoid 'that' face. You find a place to stand a little inside the bus and you stand there, lost in your thoughts. Suddenly, you hear somebody shouting at you. It's the bus conductor. He's shouting real loud, asking you to take a ticket. You don't have a bus pass because you believe taking a ticket is cheaper. So you take out your wallet, fumble for change and give it to him. He hands you the ticket with a sullen expression on his face making you wonder if you are the reason for his expression.

The bus starts to move. More and more people climb at each stop. The weather's hot. It's suffocating and you're sweating profusely. Then, you hear a shout. Some lady who has gotten onto the bus is finding it difficult to move because your bag is in the way. You apologize and try to move your bag out of the way but with all those people around you, you're finding it difficult. But still you adjust. People are giving you disgusted looks. You hear some people murmuring why people with bags even get onto public buses. The bus conductor is shouting at everyone, trying to move, asking people to make way. A few people's stops have come but they are unable to get down because of the crowd at the entrance. The bus driver is shouting at the people in the entrance to get down once, allow passengers to alight and get in again. But the people refuse to budge. People inside the bus are squirming and trying to find a comfortable position. In this attempt, they start shouting at each other. They are yelling obscenities which you might not even have heard of. The driver gets angry at all the people and applies a sudden brake causing all the passengers to fall on one another. At least three fat ladies fall on you. The conductor yells at the driver and the driver at the conductor. Shouts and yells everywhere. One passenger yells at another. Some people are yelling at you. The conductor comes and yells at the people. In between all this you try to hide your pain. Try not to make it show on your face. Finally, your stop comes and you see the number of people between you and the entrance. You gear yourself up for the challenge and start making your way. People are cursing, yelling. You say 'excuse me' to a person ahead of you. She still doesn't move. The conductor starts shouting, asking you to get down soon and the driver says he hasn't got all day. You finally get to the entrance but there you are confronted with another challenge. There's another crowd at the entrance of the bus, trying to get in. You've got to push past them to get out. In this attempt your bag gets stuck in between the people. People again shout at you for getting a bag into a public bus. You get down and the fresh air hits you. You feel refreshed and start walking towards your classroom and then, all the pain creeps into your joints. You want to sleep. Take rest. One bus journey has rendered you inactive for the rest of the day. And it's only the morning!

Public bus travel could be really tedious. India is a country with an enormous amount of people. People everywhere! You can't even see the ground in some places. In the mornings everybody has to get to work. All the buses are crowded. Sure, all these problems might be a little difficult to solve. But there is one thing we could all do to make our bus journeys more pleasant. A very simple thing which won't even take much effort. We could all be a little pleasant and smile at each other. You might be running late for work and you get really irritated by the crowd in the bus. But the person beside you might also be in the same situation. I mean c'mon! waking up in the morning and going to work is definitely not something anyone would love to do! It would be so much better if all of us could form a queue and get into the bus, nicely, without pushing anyone. Everybody is in the same position as you. Empathize!

The next thing, bus drivers and conductors. Now, we all must admit that their job is a very tedious and challenging one . The conductor especially, has to stand all day, shouting for people to take tickets. They have such a tiring job and they don't rest for hours together. Hence, in my opinion, along with bus driving training and ticket issuing training (if there is such a thing :P) these people must also be trained on how to be more pleasant and smile more. Since, their jobs have everything to do with the public, they must be given special training. But maybe, they would be more pleasant if all of us start being nice ad friendly with each other. Maybe, our behavior is also a determining factor for their behavior. So, let us all try to make our mornings more pleasant for each other. A little empathy is all it takes.



P.S.: This post has gotten a little descriptive and long, but I couldn't help it. This is how my mornings were whenever I traveled in APSRTC (TSRTC now) buses and I just got so emotional that I couldn't get myself to stop typing.