Scribble from Seattle 3

Sitting in the backyard of my new summer residence, its 4am, with a bottle of a Columbia Fume Blanc and a left over Monti Cristo (from last weeks crazy end of freshman year celebrations, but thats another story), I type. Summer has started in the Northwest and though for most people around here that means unlimited sunbathing and equally limited clothing, for me its just perfect. The breeze, 9 pm sunset, flip flops and v necks all day long; only a person used to the searing Delhi summer can truly appreciate the pleasure of a summer like this.

A constant theme that has been omnipresent this past school year has been 'change'. Change of country, change of culture, change in the alcohol that you drink or the cigarette that you smoke(or anything that you smoke for that matter), change in music , change in change being the key word in your resident country's most important elections in recent years.... and it goes on, which is a change on its own.

Though somethings remain constant, me typing this piece at odd hours, a bit tipsy, procrastinating(a word bit overused in college) over math(always math when i blog) homework as usual and on a school night, with a 8:30 am class awaiting at that.

I will be honest, a lot of what has happen in the last few months is very blurry to me.
You can reach your own conclusions as to why that is the case, but I will say this much that one thing that remains lucid and constant is my attachment to this wonderfully eclectic town by the Puget Sound called Seattle.

Seattle folks are some of the most paradoxical mountain men and women you can expect to meet anywhere. Seattle, the place that I call home now days, hosts more overeducated baristas and philosophising bums than any other city on the planet, I would guess. We wear gortex and ride fancy road bikes, all the while priding ourselves on our claim of a simple and organic lifestyle.

'All the lonely people
Where do they all come from ?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong ?'

The Beatles (Eleanor Rigby)

One of my favourite activities in any city I am in is to walk around the city with my ipod and a bottle of spring water (trust me the latter is as important as the former if not more). And I have done this in the sweltering heat in the middle of Old Delhi, walking around the narrow streets looking at the sheer magnitude of life that inhabits my hometown, or around my favourite city in the world, Bombay, walking from one end of Nariman Point to another, and honestly there is nothing as humbling as seeing the coexistence of people from such varying backgrounds and more than anything to see them thrive. Ask any poor or rich, sick or healthy,old or young, well or shabbily dressed, Davidoff smoking or India Kings smoking, Armani or fake Armani citizen of this dynamic city and one thing remains constant, their love for Bombay; and its always Bombay, never Mumbai. One Slumdog Millionaire is not enough for this city, Danny Boyle are you listening!!

Did the same thing in the classy and cobbled streets of Edinburgh, amongst the overwhelming sights of Lower Manhattan (the best dressed folks by far), Istanbul(oh! those Turkish women!!), good old London (feel a bit weird saying this, but immigrants everywhere!!) and most of the Northwest.

But nowhere did I have more fun doing this than Seattle. One reason for this is that usually I am not the only one doing it. Somewhere in Ballard, Downtown, Capitol Hill or even the U- District, I find someone wearing a crisp white shirt, with a pack of Gauloises , with a bottle of spring voda in hand and with the same glazed look on their face as me. There is always someone willing for a conversation on organic wines growing in the Columbia Valley and at same time about the new dumpster diving spots near UW. Blondes in leather jackets and baggy jeans and 6'5 black folks in skinny jeans, carrying their Chihuahuas; Seattle is 'hella' fun!!

Its been a wicked first year and the next 3-4 years will be interesting, especially living off campus and more ingrained into the city. Honestly I have been to San Fransisco, Portland, Vancouver(BC) and Seattle, covering most of the Northwest and its quite frankly a fucked up part of the world. And the best part is I love it. Jazz, Paul Simon, Newgrounds D&B or Marley(especially Bob!)...everything makes sense here.

But as with anyone with a soul, you crave home. A day locked in the room you grew up in, those soothing cream blinds, listening to same music you hear when you were 16, no more cigarettes or hangovers to worry about. Just you and home.
But thats still a few months away. Till then let this fucked up and endearing journey continues.....

The Magic of the Cup

As the blues from London overpowered and overwhelmed the blues from Liverpool, on a sunny Saturday in Wembley, I could not help shedding a tear. Seeing the scenes of pure ecstasy as JT and Frank lifted the trophy, seeing Guus Hiddink say a very emotional goodbye, seeing Michael Essien taking over the camera and click some memorable pictures of his mates and most of all for me, seeing Ray Wilkins lift the cup, just made me sob and laugh.

People like Ray Wilkins just make you happy. Chelsea through and through and a thoroughly likable character, he is someone every pensioner has time for. And to see him climb those steps and lift the cup (and he was reluctant, till Guus forced him). Loyalty and perseverance, thats what gets fans smitten to and Ray personifies it.

Its been a long, insufferable couple of seasons. It was a trophyless season last year. No Luck, they kept saying. But for me it was heartbreak and a perennial barrage of banter from my mates. But this cup means a lot, reawakens a lot of tired and quite frankly frustrated souls.

Bit more luck on the pitch and a whole lot of soul searching off it are the needs of the hour at our beloved club. Guus Hiddink may be gone, but its important to keep the momentum going and think long term. Most of the squad is in its prime and still has a couple of seasons left in it. People like Lampard and Anelka have played out of their skins and merit more accomplishment.

Carlos Ancelotti has just been appointed as the new man incharge. I have a lot to say about that, but I will just be an optimist and hope for the best.

The best thing about being a fan is that it does not take much to get our hopes high. A hard tackle, commitment, unity, loyalty..true fans notice these things and thrive on such virtues. Seeing pure ecstasy on everyones faces after a cup win is chief amongst them. And on Saturday, seeing a beaming Frank Lampard and an emotional Hiddink pose in front of cameraman Essien and point towards him, as if trying to say, what the fuck?..well its right up there in my Chelsea memories.

Up the Chels!!

Scribbles from Seattle Version-2.0

After a bit of a sojourn, which included visiting 8 different cities over 2 countries(3 if you ask the Scots), an even more fucked up economy, a new manager and another disaster for Chelsea,more drunken shenanigans and a crazy new ambition in life that goes somewhere on lines of me commentating with Michael Holding on test matches in Barbados and in my spare time riding around Eastern Europe and Central Asia on a Royal Enfield scripting my own motorcycle diary and running the elections for Indian Prime Minister in 2029, Lacksidasical E. makes a comeback.

Sounds crazy.Maybe.Che did it, all the while chewing a Cuban cigar. There is no reason as to why I,Cuban cig or no Cuban cig, cannot.Atleast the Indian elections part.(yes, becoming Indian PM is easier than commentating on a cricket match with Michael Holding, that accent is wicked and unmatchable)

So, as you can see from the overlying theme in the words above.Nothing much has changed.I still write in tangents and at odd hours(its 5 in the morning as I write this.).

Now I can start talking about this quarter and go on about the cliches of college life. The weird diet, 4 am laundry or more intriguingly, drunk people spewing up on my laundry. But the these past months have have left their imprints on me.

First and foremost, Seattle. Its been interesting to say the least and I have to conclude Seattle is one sweet city. Rubbish nightlife, but the gorgeous bohemian overtones more than make up for that blip.

Sure our sports team suck. A combination of rubbish from the Huskies, the Mariners and the Seahawks has meant that Seattlelites are actually looking forward to the Sounders and this bald underwear model. God help us!!

But coming back to a personal standpoint, Seattle has to be the most laid-back city I have come across. And I meant that as a complement. The grey clouds, the lakes, Rainier and the Cascades and the Puget Sound all sort of conglomerate to form what is a very 'chill' city. Even the bums are chilled out!!

I cannot think of a better city, where a few mates can walk to the waterfront, sip a high quality local brew and smoke a quality Davidoff, the breakfast of champions as they say.

Even back in the heady days of December 08', I was on a transatlantic flight from New York to London, from JFK to Heathrow,from Broadway to West End, from an American city trying to be European to an European city trying to be American. Its a transition that makes the world tick;without doubt the most influential route that the world has ever witnessed. And I sit in the middle of it, sipping low quality Californian wine, and sitting next to a Catholic nun with a terrible Manchester accent.And I was thinking about it, that I am going to a country that is just an island obsessed with tea and page 3 models with big fake tits.The best city there is full of people who for the most part do'nt even consider themselves a part that grotesque culture and wear skirts to show their nationalistic pride.I am so getting drunk there!!

And boy I did and even wore a kilt(rather comfortable). But the point is that despite all the crazy shenanigans and recovery from hangovers on freezing train rides(damn you National Express and your cheap ale!!), it did not feel as comforting as Seattle. Neither did NY or L.A. or London. Do'nt get me wrong, I love the Isles and dote Edinburgh. But all these places are too edgy, bit stuck up even.But Seattle is just like a long, comfy and warm train ride(in which you may or may not be high).

I think thats enough scribbling, so till next time.Hasta Siempre!!

SALAAM BOMBAY!!

India is like a great ocean liner that pitches and rolls precariously but never capsizes as it sails through tempests in which less stable craft would turn.

I do'nt miss things.I never do, I love my country, my people and my family in a way that no one else does. But I do'nt miss them, its an emotional investment that makes me unstable and unproductive.

But last Thursday, every happy, every sad, every naughty, every single memory of India came rushing back to me and I felt overwhelmed.

I do'nt blame anyone or talk about solutions, as I like most people, do'nt know shit about security systems or intelligence agencies. But what I do know is that my people have been killed and have been shown no mercy.Places in Bombay that I frequented, have been scarred forever.

But right now more than anytime else I want to be in Bombay, driving around Marine Drive listening to a AR Rahman track, all the while feeling the refreshing Bombay November breeze.And then end my journey with a Kingfisher at Leopold discussing Rene Descartes with that chick from Lyon.
But more than anything else I just wanted to be back home.

Why I have despised the 'W'?

Unless you are as dumb as this gal, you must have realized by now that the past week has been a historic week. Yes, I finally got some sleep. The pillow, the blanket, the crumbled bed sheet and the cool Seattle breeze.Bliss!!
And yeah, that Obama guy became the new leader of the free world. But sleep, you just cannot beat it!!

But enough about historical world moments that make wrinkled, arthritis-riddled octogenarian, weep with joy at the words of a man he'd never met, on a day he never thought would come. Now, there is something that is really getting my goat;its between v and x and rhymes with sue(thats must be a pain in the ass Arnie,literally!!).

W

George Bush,A bore-fest of movie based on him by Oliver Stone, the Huskies,Waking up on time,getting Wasted far too often and Warren Buffett(just because his name starts with W,otherwise what a man!!)

George Bush and hatred go hand in hand now. Its pretty much a hegemonic discourse to say 'fuck bush' around the world.And you can understand why? I do'nt really want to get all political and start giving sermons in anti-bushism. Instead I will relive a story that took place during the transition period from Bill Clinton to George Bush in 2000.
Basically during this period 8 years back, everyone on Mr Bill Clinton's staff(except Monica ofcourse) decided to give old George a welcoming present.And it was not a beginners guide to English(you cheeky bastards).

No, some of them had the brilliantly ingenious idea to remove all the 'W 'keys from the keyboards inside the White House. And they say there is no humour left on Capitol Hill.

Frankly for me those fine people of randy Bill's staff showed a lot of foresight. I think the 'W' years, as the last 8 years should be called, have been a very dark part of America's history. You could argue that from an administrative point of view, U.S has been asleep (ahh!!).

But,wait for it,CHANGE has come. Or has it? Only time will tell. All I can hope is that I would'nt be pulling the 'O' from my keyboard 4 years down the line.

Roman Tragedy- Do'nt Look Back in Anger?

John Terry summed it up right when he talked about the lack of attitude amongst the players on Tuesday evening at the Stadio Olympico. There is a thin line between complacency and a poor display, the former is unforgivable. And certain players were complacent, were slightly arrogant even and were definitely not up for it(Mikel being the prime offender). Mistakes can happen, but you need to put in the effort to rectify them. But on Tuesday night we did'nt do that.

John Terry alongside Lampard, Carvalho,Essien,Ballack and Makelele (how we still miss him on nights like that) have epitomized the spirit that has driven this team forward, from the best of times and the worst of times, in the last 5 seasons. But on Tuesday, I think if it is safe to say that the presence of even one out the last 4 could have been the difference between 3-1 and 1-1(or even 1-2).

Gabrielle Marcotti mentioned on his blog in The Times,

'Chelsea are almost impossible to judge. How can you evaluate a side without its centre forward (Didier Drogba hasn't started a game since October 1), its (arguably) best midfielder (Michael Essien) and its highest paid "superstar" (Michael Ballack)? The fact of the matter is that we haven't seen Chelsea yet this season. What we have seen is Scolari churning out results despite the absences, which is a crucially important skill. But we still don't know what the "real" Chelsea will look like. And, make no mistake about it, if Chelsea are going to do the Double (or even come close), they will need the "real" Chelsea to show up.'

I think there are two ways of looking at this, first is ,as Marcotti says, that we have despite all odds done brilliantly well to be in the position we are in. A goal difference of 23 and top of the league, and more crucially a 5 point lead over Manchester Utd, a side that has got a crazy number of matches to play in the next 2 months. All this without our first choice 11 is a remarkable feat.

On the other hand I look at this and wonder if this as good as it gets, Drogba's form is no guarantee. And with our widemen looking as ineffective as John McCain's campaign against the bigger teams, you have to wonder where will that penetration needed in the opposition's box will come from.Also our full backs look magnificent, but the more tactically aware teams know how to counter their threat(refer back to the Liverpool and Man Utd. games).


At the end of the day, you can only trust your manager's ability to keep this squad motivated and flexible enough to get through this period of injury trouble. And for me till Essien comes back, I just cannot see Chelsea playing to the best of their ability. It will require great dexterity on Scolari's part to maintain our challenge on all fronts.

But I believe in Chelsea and over the last 5 seasons that belief has reached a point of no return. And I am hoping that when I catch them in London during Christmas, we are in an even better position.

CAREFREE!!

The Clerks 2 by Kevin Smith

A Lacksidasical recommendation:


The Clerks 2 by Kevin Smith

Scorsese uses pure class, Tarantino uses violence,Tim Burton uses haunting imagery and dark overtones,Kubric used pure genius;but Kevin Smith when and if he ever reaches the level of these greats, will be know for the use of the explicitly disgusting.

As is often the case for me before Mondays, insomnia kicked in. After trying a selection of unmentionable measures, I gave up.

I decided instead decided to use the time to go through various movie blogs. 2008 has been a very intriguing year for film industries throughout the world. But here in America its been a particularly weird year.Strikes,financial troubles, good actors quitting or in some case just dying(but not before this).

So I decided to look back a few years, more specifically to 2006. A good year for hollywood, and came across this brilliantly simple movie. Directed by the mundane and explicitly talented Kevin James, The Clerks 2 is everything that makes you love America and its unabashed celebration of individualism.

On first look, The Clerks 2, a sequel to very impressive The Clerks, is another New Jersey stoner story of rags to riches.And the funny thing is thats exactly what it is. But the beauty of cinema is that there are so many aspects to it that even the most cliched of storylines can be made into a work of genius.

Minimum wage,the rat race of job life,religion,Peter Jackson vs George Lucas,friendship,inter species erotica..you name it has everything in it. And the funny thing is that the pure disgust that you might feel at seeing certain parts of the film just evaporates when you realize the underlying themes of the movie.This is typical of Kevin James, a man who recently tried to get a R certificate(it was originally NC-17) for his recently released, queerily titled film.

Above all the movie is intelligent and the pure subtelty of some of the humor really complements the explicit stuff(watch out for the donkey scene, classic Kevin James).

At times it is very cliched and some of the dialogues in the end makes you wonder if a pre-school toddler wrote the ending. But you are still left feeling happy and full of new perceptions about life in general in the end.

Its crass, immature, vulgar, cliched..but subtely illuminating.

The Clerks 2 by Kevin Smith.Watch it if you cannot sleep and need a reason to think.