Living Diagonally In My Parallel World!

Sheeshe Ke Gharon Mein Sanam Teri Kasam was the film for which RD Burman got his first Filmfare award. Now l et’s start with some background. This movie is about the typical poor boy meets rich girl and they fall in love story. About this song - The hero has been invited in the heroine’s birthday party where he is (predictably) humiliated by her father. Since he is a singer, he sings this song amidst lot of smirks from the villains around him and lovelorn looks from the heroine. This being a party song with couples dancing around the hero, RD has gone for beats of the Waltz. What is Waltz? Here is what I had mentioned in one of my previous posts. Waltz is a beat that is typical of a party setup and go something like this Dhin Chhak Chhak or 1 - 2 - 3 Dhin Chhak Chhak or 1 - 2 - 3 Dhin Chhak Chhak or 1 - 2 - 3 If I can draw a parallel, it is similar to “Dadra” in Indian classical music. But unlike traditional Waltz beats of Shankar Jaikishan ( Jeena Yaha Marn

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and has absolutely no connection with any actual incident.   Today 7:30 AM Pune city is not known to rise as early as Mumbai. The people are a bit laid back. On this day life was just starting when the police stormed Nafisa Rashid’s single bedroom flat at Abeeda apartments in Kondhwa. She was a fairly attractive woman of average height in her early forties. She was alone at that time and resisted arrest. The police asked her for an identity proof. She showed a driving license. Thrusting a search warrant in her face, her house was searched. A few minutes later the police found her old Burmese passport. The validity date on the passport as well as the visa had expired. She was told that she was being arrested for overstaying in India. She had no choice but to give herself up.   At the police station she was asked what she did for a living, who her handlers were and what secrets she had shared with them. How much she was paid and how lon

“Think think think. I need to get out of this.”, I kept on reminding myself. It started just a few weeks ago. Thanks to the goodwill of my father Sakharam More, I had been able to join the police force as a constable and thanks to my glib talking I made few friends. This helped me in earning that much needed extra money for my expenses. Life is too short and has to be enjoyed at the fullest. It was a surprise that I ended on the right side of the law. Anyone who knew me from childhood would have thought otherwise. That evening, Pintya Jadhav met me in the bar. Pintya and I were childhood friends and we shared the same likes and dislikes. He owned a small two-wheeler repair shop, but was never serious about the business. He was always on the lookout for additional money. “Deepak,” he said,” A new guy has moved in the neighbourhood. Seems to be a very devout person complete with the skull cap and Pathani dress. Let’s pick on him and get some additional money.” His eyes spark

Only If He Knew My son Adi used to do a lot of thinking. The things that any normal person would let go from his mind, Adi would get intrigued by it. Though not an introvert, he was not very sociable as well. He always wanted to know everything of everything. And he was very passionate about his things to the extent of being obsessed with them. It could be his five-year-old jeans or his father’s wallet that he used.    My husband Mahendra was a very loving person who was always full of energy. He ensured that we three went on atleast one trip near our city every month. This had continued till one day he was laid off. Though I had a job that took care of us financially, Mahendra couldn’t handle it. He slipped into depression.   One day he was in an unusually cheerful mood and we went on a short-day trip into the hills. Adi and I were aghast when we saw Mahendra jump off the cliff. In his suicide note he had asked for forgiveness and took full responsibility for his act. He

Perfect Murder …. But One mistake ….. just one moment of naïve greed and I messed my life forever. A life that I had meticulously developed for the past ten years. Hiding here up in the hills as I cool myself in this evening air, the only option I now have is to give myself up to the police or get eaten up by animals. My parents had named me Ajay. Studies never excited me. As a teenager my deeds caught the attention of Viju Dada and he took me under his fold. In a few years I became called as Ajya Bhau. I was responsible for collecting hafta for Viju Dada and also manage his cash deals. My life in Aurangabad was shaping well when one day Viju Dada & I got arrested for murder. It was a deal that went awry. We were to collect money for the white powder when the other party started an argument. One thing led to another and soon bullets were fired killing one of their men. I managed to grab five lakhs and ran away. No longer had I handed over the cash to a friend for saf