‘ARBIT’ORIUM- Part I

The coherence of a particular thought process is often impeded by the occasional whims that a petulant mind conjures time and again; something I like to call arbit crap. One of the salient features of such form of (erm) literature is that I don’t have to constrict myself to a definite style of writing, a set plot, a logical sequence of ideas…nothing. I can ramble about absolutely anything I want. This particular piece of writing is inspired partly by sheer indolence and partly by my efforts to stay away from mundane engineering realities. To put it in plain words, I want to postpone studying for as long as I can; hence I shall write a lot about absolutely nothing specific. Yes, I am sure this will be an absolutely charming exercise.

Well in order to kick off, I look around my room looking for absolutely anything that could help me in increasing the word count of this composition. My eyes fall on a sky blue coloured hard bound publication whose name is synonymous with winds. Zephyr, right now an object of detached attachment was not long back one of the most integral factors in my day to day life. It represented a culmination of everything I am god at and every creative pursuit I care about. But ya thanks to certain elements and misgivings beyond my control, all that has changed. Zephyr now is a rather painful reminder of my absolutely wonderful association with the editorial board of the college. The previous sentence might sound a little self contradictory but it sums up my sentiments about the issue. More than anything else Zephyr represents a certain dream that never really managed to take shape. The dream to possess an entity called “my magazine”. Yes, it can be safely said that this particular fancy of mine has been shelved for life. Ah well, enough of the senti cribbing. Life moves on and so will I, well someday.

After that rather bleak beginning, lets move on to something brighter, something ethereally beautiful…something that dazzles in its sheer magnificence. The people who know me well enough will know instantly that there is just one entity under this sky that I am generous enough to shower such lavish praises upon… (Phew that was a bloody long and useless sentence) Yes I am talking about the batting of Sachin Tendulkar. Well I cannot write anything about the maestro that hasn’t already been said or written. He is one of the only people who have been a source of inspiration to me. This particular gentleman is poetry in motion. His immaculate straight drive, his cheeky paddle sweep, his majestic drive through the covers, his ferocious pull shot over deep square leg and his occasional tenacious leg spinners are a source of complete awe to me. He, off late has managed to attract a lot of criticism from a lot of people who want him to hang up his boots and “retire with dignity”. While Sachin answers such criticisms with his bat (and his recently acquired unfortunate habit of getting out in the 90s) my message to all such individuals is simple and lucid… UP YOURS J.

Yes that makes me feel better. Since this is a foray into the diverse universe of the arbit, lets talk about something I saw recently that seems to have emerged out of the same dimension where logic takes a heavy beating. I saw Om Shanti Om hours after being discharged from hospital. Maybe it was the influence of the intra venous drugs but I actually enjoyed the movie. My cynicism is attributed to the fact that in essence the latest of the SRK flicks is pure crap. It makes absolutely no sense and applies to the intellect of the inmates of a mental rehabilitation centre. The movie basically is hash job of Manmohan Desai flicks, brewed in with rather opulent art direction and sets, utterly intentional melodramatic performances by the actors and an aurally pleasant sound track. In spite of all I have said I would be rather hypocritical to say that I did not enjoy the movie. I had a good laugh after a long time in a pretty dingy cinema hall. The movie was senseless because it was supposed to be so. And that is something if duly appreciated will help one to enjoy the movie.

Personal senti crap, cricket and the frivolity of Bollywood; yes we really are getting to be arbit. Hmmm so what do I babble about now? Ya I have officially run out of random stuff to write about. So I will not prolong the pain of the people who have actually cared to read so far. This is obviously the first of many such arbit compositions. So all I can say is, stay tuned!