Er, close the door on your way out

A very important lesson that many shows must learn is quitting while you’re ahead. Sometimes, a great story stops being interesting if you take more than 8 years to say it. A lot of shows in the past have done it (I’m looking at you, post Topher Grace That 70’s show) and there are way too many shows, still on air that have overstayed their welcome.

Two and a half men: Currently in its 10^th season and with talks of an 11^th, this show should have ended many many many seasons ago. I’m a fan of Jon Cryer and to some extent, Charlie Sheen. Their banter was fun to watch in the initial seasons but after a point, the jokes got predictable and the plot lines got thinner than Anushka Sharma. I would be totally open to forgive the few weak seasons if they had shut it all down after Sheen left but they got Aston Kutcher in and now I can’t even stand to watch the ads.

The Office: The Office (the US version) is one of the finest and funniest shows I have ever seen. It is currently in its 9^th season and it makes me so sad that every new episode now feels like a burden to watch out of respect, if nothing else. It barely manages to make it past the average line and that’s pretty bad for a show that has made me fall of a chair laughing on many occasions. They should have ended when Steve Carell left in that beautiful episode that was a perfect combination of laughs and tears and that is how I like to remember this show.

How I met your mother: A guy telling his kids the story of how he met their mother while he lived in New York with a bunch of friends. A great premise that should ideally lend itself to 4 seasons, or 5 if I’m being benevolent. HIMYM just completed its 8^th season with no sign of the mother or good writing and it breaks my heart.

Grey’s Anatomy: I have now invested seven years on this show. It is in its 9^th season and a season 10 may or may not be on the way, but I have watched it, with dedication for 7 whole years. In an ideal world, Grey’s should have ended with five seasons. With the last episode being Derek and Meredith’s post-it wedding. And that entire Izzie imagining Denny bit should have been omitted. Also, Owen Hunt should have been introduced much much sooner. In an ideal world.

30 Rock: I absolutely love Tina Fey and everything about 30 Rock. I love Jack Donaghy, I love Jenna, I love all of Lemon’s boyfriends, I love Subash but the show should have ended with five seasons and its current season being it’s 5^th. This season is actually quite brilliant, I just wish it had come sooner and I didn’t have to watch two seasons that made me question whether it was actually ever funny.

Love in the time of texting

I’m not an overly nostalgic person. I don’t dream of being in Paris in 1920 (although Hemingway and I would be great drinking buddies) or the renaissance or wish that I was part of India’s beautiful fight for freedom. I like 2012. I like that I don’t have to kill myself trying to remember little details: For instance, who was the guy who gets into Michel Cera’s car in Nick and Norah’s infinite playlist? Who knows? Wait, I’ll just google it (it’s Seth Meyers by the way). I like that we don’t use twigs and have really awesome flavoured toothpaste to brush our teeth with and I really, really love that a thing like instant soup exists.

And that is why I’m usually in a minority when people say that romance is dying in the digital age. Oh, you kids don’t know about yearning with all your instant messaging and skype-ing. Do I see the beauty in pining and writing long letters? Yes I do. But I also love that you don’t have to miss people and you still can. The most romantic stories I’ve ever read usually involves misunderstandings and lack of communication that could easily be fixed with one text message. Oh, and I love text messages. As a writer, who is not completely in control of her emotions when fighting, that perfectly composed text is a savior. I’m an annoying fighter because instead of using the effective, “Fuck off and please don’t talk to me again,”, I will wield powerful sentences with multiple commas, semi colons and em dashes in them. (I’m a little ashamed to admit but sometimes I will go back and re-read a text fight if only to admire my own work).

Is over information ever a bad thing? Oh, let me know less about this disease I have; let me put all my money in this stock. What is this research thing you speak of? No one ever says that and I don’t see the point in getting to know a boyfriend/girlfriend/date over time. Because really, if there is something gross or fundamentally flawed in a person, I’d like to know that upfront, thank you very much. I don’t want to spend a month with someone and then realise he uses ‘babez’ un-ironically.

I recently re-watched Amol Palekar’s Choti Si Baat where Palekar, in bell bottom pants and polka dotted shirts stalks a girl around Bombay. Stalking is totally a legit love thing; we just use Facebook now. Facebook stalking is kind of a boon. Let’s not pretend otherwise. Information is power and knowing you’re ex boyfriend/girlfriend is dating someone whose favourite band is Limp Bizkit is extremely empowering.

We take love seriously too. We are not a generation that doesn’t care. In fact, we spend a considerable amount of time ‘researching’ someone before we do and I do not see the problem. There is no charm in a beautiful husband in a suit who drinks scotch and sleeps with his secretaries while you stay at home and make a pot roast (though seriously, if Don Draper was on Facebook, he’d probably have two profiles. One for family and one of him dressed only in bathing trunks).

I wish people would stop talking like idiots sometimes. Stop talking about your relationship like it is a math problem that needs work. Stop talking about how beautiful the concept of dating used to be. Stop talking and wanting. Nostalgia is an indulgence. And I don’t mean that what’s gone is trivial. In fact it’s very well documented and that is why we know about it. You wish you were born in a time when people listened to jazz? Well, guess what? You have the internet to listen to whatever the fuck you want. It is absolutely ok to look at pictures and spend an evening drinking Old Monk and discussing that epic road trip sometimes. But you cannot live there. You are not that person anymore and this is not that time.

We are a generation of people always holding on tightly to a time that made us happy and comfortable. We really need to stop whining all the damn time.

Ooops, spoilers!

Of all first world problems the one that rattles me most is the ‘Spoiler Alert’. And while I agree with Mindy Kaling that you should “be a man about it”, I also hate people who find joy in spoiling things for you.

But lets face it, if you aren’t on top of every show you follow, somebody somewhere is going to ruin it for you. But I do have some tips for you if you want to avoid them all.

– Invest in a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. This is a fool-proof method to ensure you don’t hear your friends gushing about the season finale of Breaking Bad and spend a few days like lonely sad person till you catch up. Wear them everywhere. No place is safe. Your office, the coffee shop, the bar…yes, it will suck to wear a pair of headphones at the bar and you might a miss a whole interesting conversation because you don’t know when they stopped discussing Walter White but hey, at least you don’t know Frank figured out…whoops, sorry.

-Which brings me to the most essential point; the internet or as you could call it, the spoiler universe. If you’ve downloaded the last episode of Homeland but just haven’t managed to watch it yet, it calls for a blanket internet ban. You can check your email on your phone but no twitter, facebook (you know what happened with Talaash) and absolutely no other website. Sure, there is always the ‘spoiler alert’ just before it. What are you supposed to do? Switch you mind off as soon as you see those words? From Guardian to New Yorker to Time magazine they are all minefields of spoilers and analysis and memes and one stray word about a terrorist…

– Watch every episode as it comes out. If you aren’t caught up on a show, call in sick, stay home and watch it. Do not venture out of the house. Don’t call people; they could let something slip. It isn’t even just the drama/thriller shows. I can’t even stand it when people reveal important things about sitcoms. Ooh, did you see the episode when Ben proposes to..lalalallalala.

Thanks for all the fish

This past week, everything on the internet was about turkeys and thanksgiving. And though we don’t do thanksgiving here in India (except for a few people on Twitter), it IS November and that signals the end of year. The  Guardian already has a list of the best books of 2012, so this is my list of things I’m thankful for this year.

The writers of Community, The Newsroom, Mad Men and Homeland:

Personally, I haven’t had the best year. But as always I find distraction and solace in television and books. And I have to thank Community, The Newsroom, Mad Men and Homeland for getting me through it without going batshit insane, growing dreadlocks and living in a tree. It’s probably not the healthiest thing to do; being so invested in fictional characters but it just makes me feel so…so alive and so…you know, I’m just going to give my hard drive a big hug right now.

Books that find you:

As you might have gathered, my life decisions don’t always lend itself to a well-fed bank account. But that’s what second hand bookstores, sales and friends are for. This year I have read borrowed books, books I picked up for Rs 50 at a sale, and books that I abandoned or never got around to reading. And I have been consistently surprised and happy. They have been books I have picked up grudgingly because I was too broke to buy what I wanted. But the good ones just found me. In many ways, I’m an old lady who is afraid of new things. I like finding my comfort zone and sticking to it and sometimes have a closed mind. I don’t want to listen to your new favourite band; I don’t want to read an author I’ve never heard of before. But almost every time I have done it, I have been rewarded. I’ve read a great deal of books this year, even signed up for a post graduation course in literature (not made a dent in that list yet though) and I do hope the next pay cheque is big enough to do some splurging. But till then, there is always my Flipkart wishlist to check and sigh everyday.

Amy Pohler:

Amy Pohler is not only television’s funniest woman, she is also the personification of woman power and an example for girls all over the world. Along with being the super ambitious and funny Leslie Knope on Parks and Rec; she also has her own youtube channel. Called, Smart girls at the party, it encourages young talented girls to be themselves and be proud of it (the last episode had a Sikh girl explain her religion and what her culture entails).  I imagine Pohler in real life to be something of a superwoman. Incredibly talented, funny, confident and amazing. Even if she isn’t, I’m just glad she’s on one of the best sitcoms I’ve seen this year.

The interwebz:

On a regular day, I spend about nine to ten hours on my laptop. I can find and read this on Wednesday, laugh till my ribs hurt at this the next day and watch this on the weekend. And I can sit here in Mumbai and read the New Yorker and The Slate and The Guardian and Flavorwire. I can spend hours looking at cat videos and I can also spend hours talking to a friend in San Francisco. We talk about dependence, we talk about how the internet has us by the balls (metaphoric ones) but I don’t see the problem. The good things outweigh the bad, a million times over. The internet is filled with vile and disgusting things offset by art. Beautiful art in the form of music, videos, literature and so much more.

2012

What a great time to live, I think sometimes when I’m standing inside a matchbox sized room and listening to the Bombay Bicycle club or when I feel gooseflesh on my arm from watching The manganiyar seduction on stage. I think about the lives my parents must have led when they were my age and I can’t believe my luck. International artists aren’t just those mythical creatures forever stuck on records (or iTunes library) any more. India isn’t just a far, exotic land of elephants and snake charmers anymore and every month we hear announcements of international artists performing here, international films being screened, international brands setting shop and we are here to witness this. It fills me with such a rush to realise that we are part of a turning point of sorts, for this country in the cultural field.

Yes, the world is still listening to Justin Beiber and One Direction, but you know what, fuck that. Every small singer, songwriter and trumpet player now has opportunity. Opportunity to reach out and make themselves heard (whether they’re good or not decides how far they go) and that’s as good as it gets. A million music, art, theatre and literature festivals have sprung up. Can’t find an audience there? Put your work online and somebody in a tiny town in Brazil may just become your fan.

I can tell my very tambhram family that I want to be a writer and they don’t automatically assume that all is lost. Just that much is great. I live in a time when I don’t have to mind my manners, wear corsets that cause asphyxia or be ‘married off’ when I turn 18. I don’t have to rebel. I know, most people don’t see the appeal in that and find rebelling against society and their parents very cool but really it’s not. We have been born in a time when it’s not rebellious to cut your hair real short and come home at 5am. It’s normal. It’s great that we don’t have to fight these tiny battles because the previous generation already paved the way for us. They fought to break out and now it’s up to us to take that chance and go as high and as far as we can. We owe it to so many, many people.