There is this new song which is going around by Kailash Kher (of Allah Ke Bande fame) on most music channels. Its named something like Teri Deewani. You know, this guy Kher, whenever he sings has distinct Sufiyana overtones. This song would have been absolutely brilliant only if it had infused a little more of metallic stuff, a little more zing. Then, it would really have been placed alongside the best which the Pakistani rock bands such as E.P. or Mizraab ever had to offer. Now as it is, the song, despite all that it has going for it as too soothing and mellow to become a real chartbuster. It needs a little bit of steel. Also, the picturization has been done brilliantly, either in Bombay or in Hyderabad. I’m really confused as to that. First I thought I saw Charminar, then the video had something which looked a lot like Haji Ali and finally there was this huge Gautam Buddha statute. I’ll be damned if I can identify which city that is, but if I had to put my two cents, I’d do it on Hyderabad.
You know, every profession has its pros and cons. There are so many things going for it and at the same time, so many flaws as well. The legal field is no different. However, if somebody likes reading books, novels and enjoys dealing with the English language you can bet your last penny, that he is going to have a jolly good time. Judgments are the most definitive interpretation of law by the individuals who are the most competent to do so, namely, the Judges. Now, most judges are people who have a yen for expounding on relevant issues and questions of law in unnecessarily arcane and complicated terminology. And more often than not, hilarious consequences follow.
Today, while I continuing with my six week long internship I was handed over a few cases to read which were cited as references in a matrimonial matter supposed to go up for hearing in a few days of time. And I managed to uncover two gems. In one judgment of the A.P. High Court, a Judge, in a mater dealing with the dissolution of marriage after the parties had lived apart for a decade or so, after having commisserated at length about the facade the marriage had been reduced to, marriage being the edifice of trust, affection, love and whatnot, also bringing in some 13th Century Telugu poet who had compared marriage to a piece of iron (amongst all other things), came what I consider to be the clincher. The learned Judge pronounced, “The wedlock has become a deadlock”. Wow!!!
Second case. Also a divorce petition, but a disputed one. Unfortunately, the allegations of the wife were of such an excessively graphic nature that the poor Judge in question was naturally scandalized. Even the husband wasn’t too be left far behind and amongst other things alleged incest as well. Now, while delivering the judgment, the learned Judge did not deem it fit to include these portions (thereby, depriving us of what would have undoubtedly been some very interesting readding). But then, in order to prove the acrimony existing between the parties so as to justify the order for divorce, he had to do something. So, our learned Judge devised a special term to allude to any situation where any such graphic allegations were being hurled back and forth. The term : “Pornographic Relations”. Now, tell me, where on earth could have that come from.
In yet another case, in a related matter of a bail petition of the accused, the learned judge said, “As investigations are still in the labour room”. I was just glancing through this case, you know. It was essentially about a company selling adulterated and spurious drugs. And all of a sudden I am staring at the term, ‘labour room’. And I swear, for one moment, I didn’t know what hit me.
Chill, I havent’t even got started about what goes on in law skl and the variegated ways in which English is subjected to abuse in there. Perhaps, some other time. TTFN
I dunno what it is with my comp. Damn thing always keeps on finding new ways to irritate the hell out of me. This time IE simply wont open. Everytime I try to open it a blue screen pops up displaying some nonsense about some kind of physical memory deficit and the bloody thing goes into restart mode. Feel like just, you know, ripping it apart, socket by socket, screw by screw, port by port, smashing the hell out of it and then venting all my pent-up rage and frustration by launching its mangled remains from my 10th floor balcony.
Neways, downloaded Mozilla using Ares. Now, that browser works like a charm. Started my internship with a lawyer about four days back. The guy deals mostly with the criminal side. More about that later, in my next post maybe. Got some other stuff to do before I hit the sacks. Ciao
I had promised in my last post to write about the books I got on Saturday just after I finished with the Evidence exam. I finished with the paper around an hour early and almost instantly set out thereafter with some of my friends. First stop was Zurich, right next to the Indian Museum. I had heard plenty about how good this place was, how its pancakes and mashed potatoes were simply out of the world and was quite curious to see how good this place could be to elicit such strong feelings and admiration. Appearance-wise, the place wasn’t too imposing. Full of foreigners, a medium-size room with Christmas decorations (yeah, still), with ACs which didn’t work and fans which thankfully did. I had a chocolate banana pancake and a plain choco milkshake. The former was okay, nothing to send me raving about, and the latter, frankly I’ve had better. However, the service was in one word, dreadful. We had to wait like forever for our dishes to arrive. Imagine, I asked them for a bottle of mineral water. That took them around a good 15 minutes and then they turned up with a god-forsaken brand I hadn’t even heard of before. Still, the first impression might not always be the most accurate one. Gotta come back later to get to know this place a little better. And I’ve got to hand it over to this place in at least one respect. Its dirt-cheap.
Next stop, Oxford. Their annual sale is on till the 19th of this month and I could hardly miss this oppurtunity to pick up some new titles. I finally settled on two. Ismail Kadare’s The Concert and John Steinbeck’s East of Eden. The problem with me and bookshops is that there are so many books which I want to buy, but given my straitened financial condition, there are so few which I can. And books are also some goddamn costly these days. I mean to say these two titles alone cost me one grand!! Coming back to the books now. Kadare is one one of Albania’s best known, rather, he is Albania’s best known novelist. What Pamuk is to Turkey, Kadare is to Albania. I am yet to start this book. Steinbeck, on the other hand needs no introduction. One of the greatest storytellers ever. East of Eden was exactly the way I like books to be. Thick, voluminous with really short print. Finished this book in one day flat. Although a literary tour de force, this is not the best I have read. Notwithstanding the unquestionable lyrical supremacy, which is to be only expected of Steinbeck, the book end with an element of inadequacy, something unconsummated, underdone. Still, it is a brilliant piece of work. Lastly, about that something freaky, its the book everybody had been raving about in 2005, Freakonomics. Dad picked that up and from whatever little I have gone through, to even have such a concept as behind this book is outrageous. To actually implement it, is even more so. No wonder it is named Freakonomics
Must be blogging after something around two or more months or so. And it feels like an eternity. Not because I am that fanatical a blogger or anything, but rather because of what happened in the last few weeks. Now, there can be only one thing to drive me roAn exam isund the bend in that kind of a manner; exams. Despite my rather high-falutin, highly-strung resolutions at the end of last semester exams, it was again back to square one. There are always two contrasting urges I feel on the eve of examinations; firstly, the urge to start studying and secondly, the irresistible urge to kick myself in the butt.
Now, clearly the latter is not an option, as in order to perform that act, either I would have to be a contortionist of incredible ability and maniacal proportions or a medical miracle. Unfortunately, I am neither. Therefore, the only option left is studying. Then comes the issue of motivation. Even that isn’t easy. You have absolutely no idea of the depths of despair an individual plumbs when he has the entire syllabus yawning in front of him and barely enough time to complete a quarter of it. Still, I take a shot at motivating myself by a two-pronged process of mental abuse and reference to previous feats of a similar nature.
And even if somehow I am able to motivate myself that all is not lost, what if there are only two days for the examinations to start, what if I cannot understand the handwriting of the person whose xeroxed notes are before me (PIL), and how the same situation confronted me the last exam, and the exam before that, and the exam before that…., my misery is compounded by the bugger next door who would be revising for the fourth or fifth time. That is one of the not-so-good parts of living in a hostel. The good part is that you also tend to find a number of kindred spirits, who although not in that precarious a position, are still roughly on the same plane.
Still, somehow, this sem’s exams are over and done with, and as they say, alls well that ends well. I have vacations to the tune of three months streching in front of me. I have an internship lined up with a lawyer in Cal. I might even go and work under my uncle. Might learn how to drive during these hols. I have got a number of books to buy and read. I have already mde a start by picking up a few books at the Great Oxford Sale yesterday (more about that tommorrow). Watched a cracker of a match between SA and Aus today. Listening to plenty of music (currently Bad English’s When I see you Smile). And my exams didn’t go that badly either. At least, not as badly as I had expected them go.