Story of neglect: Olympics medal winner now a 'gol gappa' seller http://toi.in/STDWAY
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Can an intense workout help you live longer?
Interesting article which shares sone good info on how to workout.. Can an intense workout help you live longer?
Sunday, February 17, 2013
The Book Of Mormon (8/10) ~ My Third Broadway Musical
HELLO - This is a week late, but better late than never.. So thanks to Tani again, I saw my third Broadway Musical The Book Of Mormon (although I did pay for the last one, Chicago) last Sunday in Manhattan, New York City. How was it? Well, you already saw my rating above, 8/10. So, if you are still reading, either you are my family or friend.. or you are doing your research on 'if you should watch this show' and want every input possible, ending you somehow to my site.. or you are one of my rare blog fans. So, thanks for reading. I mean, I'm going to talk about it, YES. But thanks of you are in the last 2 categories (if you are family/friend, just read).
The tickets were bought almost a year ago and are being sold at $100 more at other sites. The tickets are still sold out. And it was a house-full show. We got there right at time of the show and they didn't let people in until 5 mins before showtime. Also, the show started few mins late. And most of the original cast is changed now, except as Nikki M. James as Nabulungi, which kinda sucks cuz the show that won 9 tony awards was with that cast and I think it matters.
Anyways, the show is really funny. The music is nice & songs and choreography are great too. I loved the songs 'Hello" & "I Believe'. Jon Bass plays Elder Cunningham lil over the top, seems trying to imitate his impression of Josh Gad. But still, the cast is great and does a great job. The show is very smartly written and is able to give a social message wrapped with some excellent humor. It does get tacky and lowly at places, but thats Matt & Trey for you (creators of South Park). But its a fun show to watch overall.. really fun!!
So.. yes, buy it watch it & enjoy it.I mean it & I BELIEVE....
Friday, February 15, 2013
Video Interviews
Its very interesting. I have not had one yet, as an interviewer our interviewee.. The awkwardness of the Skype job interview
Monday, February 11, 2013
Pope Benedict in shock resignation
Pope Benedict in shock resignation.. Well, he's old so why not? I think its daring & maybe even good. I think.. I don't really know though. Good luck Mr Pope!!
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Paris women permitted trousers
Paris women permitted trousers.. wow, I had no idea woman in Paris were not legally allowed to wear pants. You know that sikhs are not allowed to wear turbans in school. I mean.. I thought France would have more freedom, I would expect so. So all this sounds weird. Guess nothing beats USA & India!!
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
Dyson launches hand-drying tap
Dyson launches hand-drying tap.. I tried there hand dryer first time a few years ago and was blown away, literally blown away. A dryer that actually dried hands without touching (before that, I was never sure that you were supposed to rub your hands with usual dryers, so I struggled with drying. There blade-less fan is like magic. And now another wonder!!
Old news used to predict headlines
Seems silly, but interesting.. Old news used to predict headlines
Friday, February 01, 2013
Six things people have learned about Vine
1. Stop motion animation is alive and well
2. Ads work at six second length
3. People tend to do rather than say
4. Artificial limits help hype a social media offering
5. Aggregations of Vine are mesmerising
6. Cats/porn dominate every platform on the internet
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Shahrukh Khan's article on Being a Khan
This is the article that Shahrukh Khan wrote for Outlook Turning Points 2013 (Published by the New York Times).
Being a Khan
I am an actor. Time does not frame my days with as much conviction as images do. Images rule my life. Moments and memories imprint themselves on my being in the form of the snapshots that I weave into my expression. The essence of my art is the ability to create images that resonate with the emotional imagery of those watching them.
I am a Khan. The name itself conjures multiple images in my mind too: a strapping man riding a horse, his reckless hair flowing from beneath a turban tied firm around his head. His ruggedly handsome face marked by weathered lines and a distinctly large nose.
A stereotyped extremist; no dance, no drink, no cigarette tipping off his lips, no monogamy, no blasphemy; a fair, silent face beguiling a violent fury smoldering within. A streak that could even make him blow himself up in the name of his God. Then there is the image of me being shoved into a back room of a vast American airport named after an American president (another parallel image: of the president being assassinated by a man named lee, not a Muslim thankfully, nor Chinese as some might imagine! I urgently shove the image of the room out of my head).
Some stripping, frisking and many questions later, I am given an explanation (of sorts): "Your name pops up on our system, we are sorry". "So am I," I think to myself, "Now can I have my underwear back please?" Then, there is the image I most see, the one of me in my own country: being acclaimed as a megastar, adored and glorified, my fans mobbing me with love and apparent adulation.
I am a Khan.
I could say I fit into each of these images: I could be a strapping six feet something - ok something minus, about three inches at least, though I don't know much about horse-riding. A horse once galloped off with me flapping helplessly on it and I have had a "no horse-riding" clause embedded in my contracts ever since.
I am extremely muscular between my ears, I am often told by my kids, and I used to be fair too, but now I have a perpetual tan or as I like to call it 'olive hue' - though deep In the recesses of my armpits I can still find the remains of a fairer day. I am handsome under the right kind of light and I really do have a "distinctly large" nose. It announces my arrival in fact, peeking through the doorway just before I make my megastar entrance. But my nose notwithstanding, my name means nothing to me unless I contextualize it.
Stereotyping and contextualizing is the way of the world we live in: a world in which definition has become central to security. We take comfort in defining phenomena, objects and people - with a limited amount of knowledge and along known parameters. The predictability that naturally arises from these definitions makes us feel secure within our own limitations.
We create little image boxes of our own. One such box has begun to draw its lid tighter and tighter at present. It is the box that contains an image of my religion in millions of minds.
I encounter this tightening of definition every time moderation is required to be publicly expressed by the Muslim community in my country. Whenever there is an act of violence in the name of Islam, I am called upon to air my views on it and dispel the notion that by virtue of being a Muslim, I condone such senseless brutality. I am one of the voices chosen to represent my community in order to prevent other communities from reacting to all of us as if we were somehow colluding with or responsible for the crimes committed in the name of a religion that we experience entirely differently from the perpetrators of these crimes.
I sometimes become the inadvertent object of political leaders who choose to make me a symbol of all that they think is wrong and unpatriotic about Muslims in india. There have been occasions when I have been accused of bearing allegiance to our neighboring nation rather than my own country - this even though I am an Indian whose father fought for the freedom of India. Rallies have been held where leaders have exhorted me to leave my home and return to what they refer to as my "original homeland". Of course, I politely decline each time, citing such pressing reasons as sanitation words at my house preventing me from taking the good shower that's needed before undertaking such an extensive journey. I don't know how long this excuse will hold though.
I gave my son and daughter names that could pass for generic (pan-Indian and pan-religious) ones: Aryan and Suhana. The Khan has been bequeathed by me so they can't really escape it. I pronounce it from my epiglottis when asked by Muslims and throw the Aryan as evidence of their race when non-Muslims enquire.
I imagine this will prevent my offspring from receiving unwarranted eviction orders and random fatwas in the future. It will also keep my two children completely confused. Sometimes, they ask me what religion they belong to and, like a good Hindi movie hero, I roll my eyes up to the sky and declare philosophically, "You are an Indian first and your religion is humanity", or sing them an old Hindi film ditty, "Tu Hindu banega na Musalmaan banega - insaan ki aulaad hai insaan banega" set to Gangnam Style.
None of this informs them with any clarity, it just confounds them some more and makes them deeply wary of their father.
In the land of the freed, where I have been invited on several occasions to be honored, I have bumped into ideas that put me in a particular context. I have had my fair share of airport delays for instance.
I became so sick of being mistaken for some crazed terrorist who coincidentally carries the same last name as mine that I made a film, subtly titled My name is Khan (and I am not a terrorist) to prove a point. Ironically, I was interrogated at the airport for hours about my last name when I was going to present the film in America for the first time. I wonder, at times, whether the same treatment is given to everyone whose last name just happens to be McVeigh (as in Timothy)??
I don't intend to hurt any sentiments, but truth be told, the aggressor and taker of life follows his or her own mind. It has to nothing to do with a name, a place or his/her religion. It is a mind that has its discipline, its own distinction of right from wrong and its own set of ideologies. In fact, one might say, it has its own "religion". This religions has nothing to do with the ones that have existed for centuries and been taught in mosques or churches. The call of the azaan or the words of the pope have no bearing on this person's soul. His soul is driven by the devil. I, for one, refuse to be contextualized by the ignorance of his ilk.
I am a Khan.
I am neither six-feet-tall nor handsome (I am modest though) nor am I a Muslim who looks down on other religions. I have been taught my religion by my six-foot-tall, handsome Pathan 'Papa' from Peshawar, where his proud family and mine still resides. He was a member of the no-violent Pathan movement called Khudai Khidamatgaar and a follower of both Gandhiji and Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan, who was also known as the Frontier Gandhi.
My first learning of Islam from him was to respect women and children and to uphold the dignity of every human being. I learnt that the property and decency of others, their points of view, their beliefs, their philosophies and their religions were due as much respect as my own and ought to be accepted with an open mind. I learnt to believe in the power and benevolence of Allah, and to be gentle and kind to my fellow human beings, to give of myself to those less privileged than me and to live a life full of happiness, joy, laughter and fun without impinging on anybody else's freedom to live in the same way.
So I am a Khan, but no stereotyped image is factored into my idea of who I am. Instead, the living of my life has enabled me to be deeply touched by the love of millions of Indians. I have felt this love for the last 20 years regardless of the fact that my community is a minority within the population of India. I have been showered with love across national and cultural boundaries, from Suriname to Japan and Saudi Arabia to Germany, places where they don't even understand my language. They appreciate what I do for them as an entertainer - that's all. My life has led me to understand and imbibe that love is a pure exchange, untempered by definition and unfettered by the narrowness of limiting ideas. If each one of us allowed ourselves the freedom to accept and return love in its purity, we would need no image boxes to hold up the walls of our security.
I believe that I have been blessed with the opportunity to experience the magnitude of such a love, but I also know that its scale is irrelevant. In our own small ways, simply as human beings, we can appreciate each other for how touch our lives and not how our different religions or last names define us.
Beneath the guise of my superstardom, I am an ordinary man. My Islamic stock does not conflict with that of my Hindu wife's. The only disagreements I have with Gauri concern the color of the walls in our living room and not about the locations of the walls demarcating temples from mosques in India.
We are bringing up a daughter who pirouettes in a leotard and choreographs her own ballets. She sings western songs that confound my sensibilities and aspires to be an actress. She also insists on covering her head when in a Muslim nation that practices this really beautiful and much misunderstood tenet of Islam.
Our son's linear features proclaim his Pathan pedigree although he carries his own, rather gentle mutations of the warrior gene. He spends all day either pushing people asie at rugby, kicking some butt at Tae Kwon Do or eliminating unknown faces behind anonymous online gaming handles around the world with The Call of Duty video game. And yet, he firmly admonishes me for getting into a minor scuffle at the cricket stadium in Mumbai last year because some bigot make unsavory remarks about me being a Khan.
The four of us make up a motley representation of the extraordinary acceptance and validation that love can foster when exchanged within the exquisiteness of things that are otherwise defined ordinary.
For I believe, our religion is an extremely personal choice, not a public proclamation of who we are. It's as person as the spectacles of my father who passed away some 20 years ago. Spectacles that I hold onto as my most prized and personal possession of his memories, teachings and of being a proud Pathan. I have never compared those with my friends, who have similar possessions of their parents or grandparents. I have never said my father's spectacles are better than your mother's saree. So why should we have this comparison in the matter of religion, which is as personal and prized a belief as the memories of your elders. Why should not the love we share be the last word in defining us instead of the last name? It doesn't take a superstar to be able to give love, it just takes a heart and as far as I know, there isn't a force on this earth that can deprive anyone of theirs.
I am a Khan, and that's what it has meant being one, despite the stereotype images that surround me. To be a Khan has been to be loved and love back - that the promise that virgins wait for me somewhere on the other side.
Shah Rukh Khan
Being a Khan
I am an actor. Time does not frame my days with as much conviction as images do. Images rule my life. Moments and memories imprint themselves on my being in the form of the snapshots that I weave into my expression. The essence of my art is the ability to create images that resonate with the emotional imagery of those watching them.
I am a Khan. The name itself conjures multiple images in my mind too: a strapping man riding a horse, his reckless hair flowing from beneath a turban tied firm around his head. His ruggedly handsome face marked by weathered lines and a distinctly large nose.
A stereotyped extremist; no dance, no drink, no cigarette tipping off his lips, no monogamy, no blasphemy; a fair, silent face beguiling a violent fury smoldering within. A streak that could even make him blow himself up in the name of his God. Then there is the image of me being shoved into a back room of a vast American airport named after an American president (another parallel image: of the president being assassinated by a man named lee, not a Muslim thankfully, nor Chinese as some might imagine! I urgently shove the image of the room out of my head).
Some stripping, frisking and many questions later, I am given an explanation (of sorts): "Your name pops up on our system, we are sorry". "So am I," I think to myself, "Now can I have my underwear back please?" Then, there is the image I most see, the one of me in my own country: being acclaimed as a megastar, adored and glorified, my fans mobbing me with love and apparent adulation.
I am a Khan.
I could say I fit into each of these images: I could be a strapping six feet something - ok something minus, about three inches at least, though I don't know much about horse-riding. A horse once galloped off with me flapping helplessly on it and I have had a "no horse-riding" clause embedded in my contracts ever since.
I am extremely muscular between my ears, I am often told by my kids, and I used to be fair too, but now I have a perpetual tan or as I like to call it 'olive hue' - though deep In the recesses of my armpits I can still find the remains of a fairer day. I am handsome under the right kind of light and I really do have a "distinctly large" nose. It announces my arrival in fact, peeking through the doorway just before I make my megastar entrance. But my nose notwithstanding, my name means nothing to me unless I contextualize it.
Stereotyping and contextualizing is the way of the world we live in: a world in which definition has become central to security. We take comfort in defining phenomena, objects and people - with a limited amount of knowledge and along known parameters. The predictability that naturally arises from these definitions makes us feel secure within our own limitations.
We create little image boxes of our own. One such box has begun to draw its lid tighter and tighter at present. It is the box that contains an image of my religion in millions of minds.
I encounter this tightening of definition every time moderation is required to be publicly expressed by the Muslim community in my country. Whenever there is an act of violence in the name of Islam, I am called upon to air my views on it and dispel the notion that by virtue of being a Muslim, I condone such senseless brutality. I am one of the voices chosen to represent my community in order to prevent other communities from reacting to all of us as if we were somehow colluding with or responsible for the crimes committed in the name of a religion that we experience entirely differently from the perpetrators of these crimes.
I sometimes become the inadvertent object of political leaders who choose to make me a symbol of all that they think is wrong and unpatriotic about Muslims in india. There have been occasions when I have been accused of bearing allegiance to our neighboring nation rather than my own country - this even though I am an Indian whose father fought for the freedom of India. Rallies have been held where leaders have exhorted me to leave my home and return to what they refer to as my "original homeland". Of course, I politely decline each time, citing such pressing reasons as sanitation words at my house preventing me from taking the good shower that's needed before undertaking such an extensive journey. I don't know how long this excuse will hold though.
I gave my son and daughter names that could pass for generic (pan-Indian and pan-religious) ones: Aryan and Suhana. The Khan has been bequeathed by me so they can't really escape it. I pronounce it from my epiglottis when asked by Muslims and throw the Aryan as evidence of their race when non-Muslims enquire.
I imagine this will prevent my offspring from receiving unwarranted eviction orders and random fatwas in the future. It will also keep my two children completely confused. Sometimes, they ask me what religion they belong to and, like a good Hindi movie hero, I roll my eyes up to the sky and declare philosophically, "You are an Indian first and your religion is humanity", or sing them an old Hindi film ditty, "Tu Hindu banega na Musalmaan banega - insaan ki aulaad hai insaan banega" set to Gangnam Style.
None of this informs them with any clarity, it just confounds them some more and makes them deeply wary of their father.
In the land of the freed, where I have been invited on several occasions to be honored, I have bumped into ideas that put me in a particular context. I have had my fair share of airport delays for instance.
I became so sick of being mistaken for some crazed terrorist who coincidentally carries the same last name as mine that I made a film, subtly titled My name is Khan (and I am not a terrorist) to prove a point. Ironically, I was interrogated at the airport for hours about my last name when I was going to present the film in America for the first time. I wonder, at times, whether the same treatment is given to everyone whose last name just happens to be McVeigh (as in Timothy)??
I don't intend to hurt any sentiments, but truth be told, the aggressor and taker of life follows his or her own mind. It has to nothing to do with a name, a place or his/her religion. It is a mind that has its discipline, its own distinction of right from wrong and its own set of ideologies. In fact, one might say, it has its own "religion". This religions has nothing to do with the ones that have existed for centuries and been taught in mosques or churches. The call of the azaan or the words of the pope have no bearing on this person's soul. His soul is driven by the devil. I, for one, refuse to be contextualized by the ignorance of his ilk.
I am a Khan.
I am neither six-feet-tall nor handsome (I am modest though) nor am I a Muslim who looks down on other religions. I have been taught my religion by my six-foot-tall, handsome Pathan 'Papa' from Peshawar, where his proud family and mine still resides. He was a member of the no-violent Pathan movement called Khudai Khidamatgaar and a follower of both Gandhiji and Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan, who was also known as the Frontier Gandhi.
My first learning of Islam from him was to respect women and children and to uphold the dignity of every human being. I learnt that the property and decency of others, their points of view, their beliefs, their philosophies and their religions were due as much respect as my own and ought to be accepted with an open mind. I learnt to believe in the power and benevolence of Allah, and to be gentle and kind to my fellow human beings, to give of myself to those less privileged than me and to live a life full of happiness, joy, laughter and fun without impinging on anybody else's freedom to live in the same way.
So I am a Khan, but no stereotyped image is factored into my idea of who I am. Instead, the living of my life has enabled me to be deeply touched by the love of millions of Indians. I have felt this love for the last 20 years regardless of the fact that my community is a minority within the population of India. I have been showered with love across national and cultural boundaries, from Suriname to Japan and Saudi Arabia to Germany, places where they don't even understand my language. They appreciate what I do for them as an entertainer - that's all. My life has led me to understand and imbibe that love is a pure exchange, untempered by definition and unfettered by the narrowness of limiting ideas. If each one of us allowed ourselves the freedom to accept and return love in its purity, we would need no image boxes to hold up the walls of our security.
I believe that I have been blessed with the opportunity to experience the magnitude of such a love, but I also know that its scale is irrelevant. In our own small ways, simply as human beings, we can appreciate each other for how touch our lives and not how our different religions or last names define us.
Beneath the guise of my superstardom, I am an ordinary man. My Islamic stock does not conflict with that of my Hindu wife's. The only disagreements I have with Gauri concern the color of the walls in our living room and not about the locations of the walls demarcating temples from mosques in India.
We are bringing up a daughter who pirouettes in a leotard and choreographs her own ballets. She sings western songs that confound my sensibilities and aspires to be an actress. She also insists on covering her head when in a Muslim nation that practices this really beautiful and much misunderstood tenet of Islam.
Our son's linear features proclaim his Pathan pedigree although he carries his own, rather gentle mutations of the warrior gene. He spends all day either pushing people asie at rugby, kicking some butt at Tae Kwon Do or eliminating unknown faces behind anonymous online gaming handles around the world with The Call of Duty video game. And yet, he firmly admonishes me for getting into a minor scuffle at the cricket stadium in Mumbai last year because some bigot make unsavory remarks about me being a Khan.
The four of us make up a motley representation of the extraordinary acceptance and validation that love can foster when exchanged within the exquisiteness of things that are otherwise defined ordinary.
For I believe, our religion is an extremely personal choice, not a public proclamation of who we are. It's as person as the spectacles of my father who passed away some 20 years ago. Spectacles that I hold onto as my most prized and personal possession of his memories, teachings and of being a proud Pathan. I have never compared those with my friends, who have similar possessions of their parents or grandparents. I have never said my father's spectacles are better than your mother's saree. So why should we have this comparison in the matter of religion, which is as personal and prized a belief as the memories of your elders. Why should not the love we share be the last word in defining us instead of the last name? It doesn't take a superstar to be able to give love, it just takes a heart and as far as I know, there isn't a force on this earth that can deprive anyone of theirs.
I am a Khan, and that's what it has meant being one, despite the stereotype images that surround me. To be a Khan has been to be loved and love back - that the promise that virgins wait for me somewhere on the other side.
Shah Rukh Khan
Monday, January 14, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
India set for Kumbh Mela festival
India set for Kumbh Mela festival I have never been to a kumbh, but I may some day. One of my uncle is there too. Its crazy there I have heard. Crazy good I guess. I would love to check it out..
Thursday, January 10, 2013
The future of TV sets revealed
The future of TV sets revealed.. cool stuff. The 8K screen looks awesome even in pics. But I would love those screenless screens, specially in 3D!
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