1. Hummus 2. The road near the hummus place 3. The blue sea in bat yam 4. Wine tasting in Golan Heights 6. Wedding in Tel Aviv 7. Kinneret/ Sea of Galilee 8. Army cars 9. Happy Neha early in the morning 10. Near the Western Wall, Jerusalem 11. View of the Old City, Jerusalem 12. Me in Bethlehem 13. Divine Light, Bethlehem 14. Modern art, Jerusalem 15. A young Jewish boy, Jerusalem 16. Lotus pond, Tel Aviv 17. The Double cross, Bethlehem 18. Picnic in Kinneret 19. tree sketch by me, Bat yam 20. Somewhere between Golan heights and Kinneret.
I woke up this morning to a whole lot of rain.
And I'm not really a fan.
It's just made my lazy Sunday a lot lazier.
It made me miss getting pancakes for breakfast at a restaurant near my house.
The waiter even asked my sister where I was.
But I couldn't stop thinking about those perfect pancakes with the fruit compote.
The thought of good food makes me happy on a rainy day.
Or any day.
I've just finished watching Season 1 of Junior MasterChef Australia.
I'd watch 8-12 year olds cook some amazing food every night.
They knew how to temper, poach, blanch, make a consommé or even a coulis.
Some of them had started cooking at the age of 3!
Is that even possible?
I think I was still going through my phase of wanting to be a fisherwoman back then.
But, watching the junior masterchefs at work almost seemed unreal.
It made me hungry. It made me jealous.
And it made me wonder, what was I doing from age 8-12?
Well, I was in love with Doogie Howser M.D.
And thought that I too would become a doctor like him by the age of 16.
Incase you're wondering, that did not happen.
And I still can't cook.
I grew up watching David Copperfield on TV and always wished someone would teach me some cool tricks.
I wouldn't have even minded being the assistant who smiles and waves and gets cut up into pieces.
But, as a child, all I could do was one card trick which I was taught to do by my grandfather.
And that wasn't enough to put on a show.
I've watched a bit of Criss Angel Mindfreak.
You'd think he'd be smart enough to come up with something better than Mindfreak.
But he isn't.
If I was a cool magician I would've thought of a better name.
Like Neha Kamath Magic Woman.
Ok that's lame too.
But, then again I don't have my own show so I don't need to be giving that any more thought.
I've always wanted to watch a magician Live.
About 8 years ago, I watched David Blaine sit in a suspended glass box near London's Tower Bridge. He starved himself for 44 days.
Was that magic? I don't know.
Then a few years ago, I went for a show by P.C. Sorcar and sat in the auditorium among many children.
He is the only Indian magician I can think of.
And when I saw the ad about his show in the newspaper, I dragged my mother and sister and went to watch the show with a lot of enthusiasm.
Unfortunately his most exciting tricks were the usual cutting a woman into many pieces and what he called Water of India - a jug with a neverending supply of water which he keeps pouring out of through the entire show.
I had read about how he had made an elephant disappear and was looking forward to watching something like that happening before my eyes and so I left the show slightly disappointed.
And then my sister burst my already small bubble of excitement by explaining each magic trick to me.
I don't know how I was stupid enough to miss it but someone was actually re-filling the Water of India jug behind the curtain.
Hmph.
A few years went by and I watched movies like The Prestige and The Illusionist and my expectations were skyrocketing.
Still waiting for that perfect show.
And then today I heard Cyril Takayama was going to be performing 5 minutes away from my house and I made sure I was there.
All he did was stand mid-air on nothing and the only support he had was an AXN banner on a street light that he had one hand up against.
And the whole time I was wondering what he'd do if a crow pooped on him.
Luckily for Cyril Murphy's Law was taking the day off.
He seemed quite pleasant and pretended to like the Indian people who made anything but a good crowd.
I stood there not far from where he was for about an hour in amazement.
And then my sister came along and made me believe that his hand was fake and he was held together by some sort of device that attached his torso to the fake arm which he covered up with a jacket.
I tried to ignore it.
Then I thought to myself that even though summer may be over in Bombay, on a hot day like today why would anyone wear a jacket? What was Cyril trying to hide?
And then I chose to ignore it.
I like the idea of magic.
Any kind of magic.
The mystery in the unknown and unexplainable makes life just a little more interesting.
Don't you think?
And as Roald Dahl said,
Those who don't believe in magic, will never find it.
Every morning when I open the newspaper (the entertainment section ofcourse), I read many articles about how great Indian cinema is. And about how much coverage our Indian actors are getting at the Cannes Film Festival. And how A-list Hollywood actors want to be a part of Bollywood movies now.
When I read such articles, I can't help but think, do we live in our very own Indian bubble?
To be honest, I don't think we make great films. There are a few that are good or some that can be watched once maybe. Most are made for the masses and these crowd pullers are usually slapstick or made with the sense of humour of a 5 year old.
Then the other day while having one of the most random conversations with a friend, I reached the conclusion that as strange as our films may be, no other film industry has the imagination and creativity that we have.
This was how my conversation went:
Friend: I love eating this asian mango and sticky rice dessert.
Me: Rice is main course. Not dessert.
Friend: No you must try it. It's really good.
Me: Ok, mail me some.
Friend: I'm just sending it.
Me: Fedex?
Friend: No. With a dove. Fedex is so old fashioned.
Me: A bird? [I am not a fan of birds in general and the one time I tried to feed grains to pigeons, they scratched me and made me cry and that was the end of that friendship.]
So while my friend (who is American) was trying to show me the ways of the 21st Century, I showed him this.
Yes, our Bollywood filmmakers always thought ahead and out of the box.
We used birds as delivery boys back in the 80's.
I was 4 years old when Maine Pyar Kiya was released. At that age all I did was just stare at the screen, so for me it was as good as watching He-Man.
And then when I watched the video a few days ago to prove a point to my friend, I was thoroughly amused by the ridiculousness of the imagination of Sooraj Barjatya.
These were my observations:
> The bird (white pigeon) is used as a messenger to deliver Bhagyashree's first love letter to Salman Khan.
> The bird then flies out of the window and directly into the backseat of the car. This is because:
- The bird is not a plane with an in-built GPS system and doesn't know directions in the sky.
- The bird is crazy lazy.
> The bird reaches the party sitting in the car while Bhagyashree puts on some jewelry, prays to God and sets the table for dinner.
> The bird continues to be lazy and finds his way around the party while being carried around by a waiter along with a tray full of cold drinks.
> Kabutar finally delivers the letter to Salman Khan.
> Salman gets excited on reading it and spends the day laying on the grass while kabutar has a little drink.
> He then suddenly drives back to his palatial home like Schumacher where Bhagyashree has been waiting for him in the balcony surrounded by tacky flashing Neon lights that say ice-cream (which are used to add drama to the scene?).
> Kabutar finally uses it's wings and decides to fly back home and inform Bhagyashree that Salman is on his way.
> Salman reaches home and greets his lady love with open arms.
> She goes running to him and greets him with a 'passionate hug' in true 80's style.
> The next day they are in a garden and Kabutar keeps making an appearance from time to time. Suddenly they are surrounded by apples.
Yes, apples.
Was it set decoration of the 80s?
Was Bhagyashree hungry?
Was it Salman's way of saying How do you like them apples?
Or was it just the forbidden fruit?
I think it was Sooraj Barjatya's way of showing 'an expression of love' back in the day when Emraan Hashmi was still a child.
This made me realise that as bad as his movies were, Sooraj Barjatya did start a trend.
A trend carried on by the makers of Desperate Housewives in their opening credits.
So here I am taking a big risk...
Right now, I'm wishing for a good day with some good chocolatty cake and a nice cold Mango milkshake.
And nice gifts because I am a greedy little child.
When I was in Kindergarten, this is the prayer we were taught to say every morning:
Thank you God for the World so sweet
Thank you God for the food we eat
Thank you God for the birds that sing
Thank you God for everything.
For me these words apply not only to God but also to my mother.
Especially the part about the food we eat.
I know there are days (everyday) when I seem like I'm ignoring my mother when she is speaking to me, but the fact of the matter is sometimes we just don't hear our mothers over the sound of the TV or because we have been hypnotized with the light from our phones.
And most of the time all I hear is When? What? Neha are you listening? Why?
via Pinterest.
To solve our communication problem, I decided to take a little help from Snoop Dogg.
I hope this answers atleast one of your questions.
