Recently, the world has been celebrating or marking the birth of the 7th billion person. The world’s population is 7 billion, there are 7 billion mouths to feed. The distribution of population have remained constant for over thousands of years. India and China is where most people lived say 3000 years ago and the trend remains the same even in present day.
Strangely we have gone from 1 billion in 1800 to 7 in 2011. India now has a lot more people than the whole world’s did back in year 1800.
The population is supposed to top up and stabilize at 10 billion people.
I guess the world (not earth) needs to stop reproducing itself into oblivion.
Check this video that shows how the population has been growing and why:
What kind of pressure will 10 billion people put on agriculture, water resources, forests lands and endangered species? Do drop in your comments.
As the Nobel season is around, I thought of sharing this amazing photograph with you. I came across this photo on a blog post and really wished, I could get a time machine, go back in time and listen into to what they were discussing. All of them are geniuses but quite a few of them are immortally famous.
Click on the image to see full enlarged version
The photo was taking at the Fifth Solvay International Conference on Electrons and Protons in October 1927.
If I had to list my favourite Hindi films from recent times, they would be Black Friday, Satya, Rang De Basanti, Dev D and a few more. But the name of Anurag Kashyap keeps floating about in most films I have liked. Either as a script writer or director or even as producer.
I am not a fan of Anurag Kashyap the person, as much as I am a fan of films he has been involved with. I do not know about his philosophy or his struggles. I have never really tried to search for such information nor have I easily come across it.
Another actor I am a big fan of is Robert De Niro; again people hardly know much about his private life. But he still manages to have millions of fans. They are not exactly his fans but fans of his work.
These are not people who are celebrated but these are people who choose to have only their work celebrated.
The point here is, this sort of popularity has nothing to do with talent or ability, but to do with choice. In other words, being a private person is choice and not necessarily an achievement or a personality quirk.
Way back in 93, I was still a kid and did not know much about old Hindi songs. I bought a cassette titled ‘Kishore Kumar’s greatest hits’.
That was it. I was hooked on to the Kishore Kumar’s voice and his music. An actor, director, song writer, music director all rolled into one.
If he were alive today, he would have turned 82. Well no use writing a bio of the legend, so decided to make a YouTube playlist of some of my favourite songs. Let me know which one was your favourite Kishore Kumar song?
It is said that to be truly happy you need to do what you enjoy. Not all work is exciting but it could still make you happy. I came across this flowchart on Typecut, which gives the most ridiculously simple yet powerful advice. I need to follow this.. 🙂
When I started Bombaypirate, it was without any thought or goal. The idea was to just write things I would like to write about. I ended up writing about people, society, my views and even movies. Yes, it was a post about a movie, that got me a job at rtCamp, and I was suddenly a professional blogger, who was managing Devils’ Workshop and other blogs in the network.
That is where I came into contact with WordPress as a blogging platform. Not being a developer, I had a tough time figuring out some of the minor details of WordPress. I could not really mess around and experiment on one of India’s most popular tech blogs.
Many reasons from being comfortable with it and to finding it a better platform than Blogger. But, the main reason was “It was time”.
Let me first start by thanking Nitun Lanjewar who helped me with the migration from Blogger to WordPress and to Rahul Bansal for introducing me to the world of blogging.
Final note: If you are looking to move you blog from Blogger to WordPress, I recommend using BloggertoWp.org
I was bored and a old friend from school and his gtalk status quotes made me chuckle for they were senseless to the extent of being brilliant. I decided to comment on our country in a similar style. Then I totally stretched it way out of control I think. Here is the Ode to the Kingdom.
The Commies had a feast and Karat danced the night away with his comrades eating delicious Chinese food. The Indians had a feast and they killed each other in one night deciding if they would make north or south indian food. And then the Italian chef smiled at the fools.
Babaji became heir apparent, he represented the youth as he grew older. He was a champion of the new born baby even if he were to turn a hundred he claimed. Until then he would eat delicious pastas made by his mother the famous Italian chef.
The Iron man started to work out when he was past eighty. He wanted to be King he said, his balding head shone like his metallic body. He claimed to wage war against the fools and make the kingdom rich. I am the King! I am the King he shouted but sadly for the bald iron man Singh is King.
They laughed at the King, they laughed at the Italian chef and her Babaji when they shook hands with Uncle Sam. They cried for the poor man from their Mercedes and BMWs. They decided to eat Chinese food instead of the heavy stomached Italian food to stay close to the Indian people. The monsoons have come now and the friends of Mao are screwing them.
The wrestler grunted like a bull and promised to do away with English and Computers. We all will prosper as we ride on our buffaloes on the superfast highways. The wrestler threatned the Italian chef and called her infant Babaji an infant. The wrestler and his immortal friend bit the dust as they were left behind with their bulls on their dusty roads.
The summer was hot and dry. The wells dried up and the lakes fell short. But the Kingdom had a feast to decide on who would be king. Now that Singh is King again, the Rains come down, rivers gather strength and the tap runs dry…
The Bridges fall and the Cranes then fall like dry twigs, Where are you? O Shaktiman !!
The other day when I was flicking channels I caught a scene from the movie ‘Black’ starring Rani Mukherjee as a deaf, mute and blind charachter (a take on Helen Keller) and Amitabh Bachchan playing her eccentric teacher.
I saw this scene in which Rani Mukherjee walked like Charlie Chaplin and apparently there was nothing wrong with her feet but I guess it was a nice way to get the audience to feel sad about a poor girl. It got me thinking about the movie and names like Hellen Keller.. hmm
I remember reading about her in some school text book. She was quite the inspirational figure. Rani Mukherjee’s character looked just about tragic at best. The acting was good I guess. It won the Naitonal Award of the best film but when I first saw it and even now its always felt like going into a French Restaurant where excellent Italian cuisine was served. The movie has everything going for it.
Great cast, renowned director, great photography and a inspirational story. Hmm that word inspiration again. If you really thought about Helen Kellers life she was a person who acheived a lot more than just centering her life around a teacher and sitting on a bench feeling snowflakes. She campaigned for the Socialist Party, stood up for women’s voting rights, assisted in the founding of the iconic ACLU and travelled the world. She wrote 12 books and several articles. She did more than most people do in a life time and all this inspite of being deaf and blind.
‘Black’ was that cesspool of pity which is lauded over this girl’s charachter in the movie where all the movies ends up showing is life is tough for a deaf, mute and blind girl. I mean what the fuck? Doesnt common sense say that anywaysl? The movie shows her as a outcast who doesnt fight back or live her life on her own terms. It shows her as a outcast who clings to her teacher and thats it. The movie is melodramatic, visually brilliant piece of an excuse to be a tear jerker. It seems all the director wanted were great award winning shots, the story be damned. All the director wanted was us to feel sorry for a disabled girl. Worse the creators say Helen Kellers life was a inspiration for this movie.
Now really wiki Helen Keller again and youd go wow !! I mean heres a person who did stuff.Right through the movie there is no friend, no family member who cares about the charachter. If the family cares its only through dinner dialogues to prove that they probably care a little bit. The years of disgusting behaviour is balanced with a couple of scenes of repentence by the family and lifes peachy again.
All this makes me think about another Hindi movie called Iqbal. Its about a deaf and mute boy in a village who resists family pressure to play cricket. It ends with the kid in India colours as a fast bowler. The boys disability is never shown as a problem. You are never made to feel sorry for the kid, atleast not too much and he’s moving along towards his goals without melodrama. Yeah I rather think ‘Iqbal’ is more representative of Helen Kellers life than ‘Black’
Frankly people with disablities have it tough and we all know that. Why make them feel worse by pitying them and feeling sorry for them. Help them out if you think you can or watch how they help themselves out. Most times we have a lot to learn from them anyways. So dare I say learn from them.
Was on my motorcycle late in the night when the cold wind hit my face in a precise manner. It was a strange night, one of those not so cold and not so hot ones. Looks like winters gone without making much of a fuss. Back home from work and spending time in front of the Computer Screen and then the television screen, the TV caught my attention. The screen flickered images of a wheel driving along a endless road. That image was enough. It fired some neurons in my brain like a jolt and I got a sense of déjà vu. Before the next scene cut and showed up the two men in leather skull caps on a motorcycle I knew it was the Motorcycle Diaries playing on one of the channels.
Had seen this gorgeous Spanish movie with its very witty subtitles over two years ago and I was taken into the past. It felt familiar and pleasant. The memories associated not so important or impressive but peharps it was a easier time in life or perhaps because it was not such a incredible time in life when I saw this impressive movie on the road trip taken by Che Guevara and Argentine in his final year of medicine with his charmingly rougish friend Alberto Granado. Its not often you see a movie which inspires you to be a kid again. Its not often that you see a movie and feel like sitting on your motorbike and scoping an entire continent. Hmm maybe its because you feel you still have something really outrageous and stupid left to do in life that you feel a déjà vu watching the movie.
A smirk which everytime the duo struggle with the wire to repair their La Poderosa.
Maybe next time I am on my motorcycle Ill hear that distinct bass guitar playing in some corner of my mind a distinctly latino tune.
Came back from work and switched on the TV and tuned into News. The news is full of Slumdog Millionaire at the Oscars. Ive seen the movie, felt it was shot, edited brilliantly and the music is pretty good even though AR Rahman is the same as ever which only means he has kept up his good work.
The movie did have its blood curling moments like the scene in which a small boy gets his eye removed so he can be a better beggar. But frankly I expected it. As a kid growing up in a Mumbai suburb I grew up with stories about how children were forced to beg on the streets and how they would be disfigured or disabled for life to be more effective to extract pity. Ofcourse anyone growing up in Mumbai has always had a time when youve looked at a street urchin and wondered. Wondered if youd survive in their hard, cruel and at times brutally tough world. I would always feel ashamed to be an Indian, to be part of a society which allowed children to be used in such a way. I mean these kids were pretty much living withing the 10 squre km area where you lived all your life and yet what a different life I lived compared to a slum dweller.
But as one grows up Ive realised that these guys have dreams and dare to follow them with a lot more guts than the average middle class guy. Inspite of the fact that life has been harsh and unfair to them. Probably the generation before mine did need to be validated by foreigners. Western validation was needed to be called First World. I guess that attitude still exists a little bit. But honestly why am I ashamed to be an Indian because of its poverty? Why should I be? When even the children who grow up in such poverty are proud of themselves why do I need to be ashamed ? I guess being ashamed about the poor is a nice way for us to feel we have our moral fibre in place. But this is not a moral issue, it actually is an economic issue. We tend to compensate what gets us angry with sadness and sense of pity. Pity is a horrible word, because it seems like a escape clause. Fact is most of us would not think twice striking up a bargain of Rs 5/- from your local bhaji wala or fruitwala who live in poverty. Fact is we pity them and most of them wouldnt care for your pity. A fruitwala who earns Rs50 a day could sure do with Rs55/- a lot more than pity which only serves the one who shows in and not the one who is being pitied upon. No, being a person who loves Mumbai, I am not ashamed of its slums. I am angry about the fact that they exist, but not ashamed. Slumdog Millionaire was a movie which wasnt showing India’s poor as people who were ashamed of themselves. It was a unabashed movie of a underdog. And no need to pity ourselves and feel outraged that see how India’s poverty is being sold abroad. I rather see a movie in which a slumdog becomes a millionaire than see a movie where millionaires tell you how its all about loving your parents.