The Nocturne

by The Nocturne

Converting imagination into reality. One blurry idea at a time

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Fear and Loathing in Goa

In accordance with the prophecy that there are three places which an Indian male ABSOPOSITRESOLUTELY MUST travel to atleast once in his life – Goa, Bangkok and Amsterdam, yours truly set out with a group of friends , one warm summer evening to the only place in the country where someone gives a shit if your name is Siddhartha Mallya. Goa promised us less heat than Gujarat for sure, but in the fine print, it included so much humidity that by the end of the trip our sweat glands were dryer than Zohra Sehgal. Coupled with the fact that we were vegetarian teetotalers, we looked upon this haven of booze and seafood like Digvijay Singh looks at a ‘Sexual Abstinence for the Elderly’ seminar.

Upon reaching Goa, we had to resist the temptation of doing the first thing anyone does in Goa: update “GOAAA!!!!” as their Facebook, WhatsApp and Orkut status. (Yes, such people do still use Orkut). As we

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6 Statutory Warnings Cinema Desperately Needs

Everyone is aware of the anti-smoking and anti-drinking advertisements and messages which pop up before a movie and during any scene featuring the same. The debate exists on whether they have been effective or not, but here are a few statutory warnings which movies should also have.

1. Whenever there is an item song
Item song

2. Whenever there is a gay character on screen
sw2.jpg

3. Whenever there is a Roadside Romeo in a scenesw3.jpg

4. Whenever there are regional stereotypes
sw4.jpg

5. Whenever there is a fight scene
sw5.jpg

and finally one for all our friends over in Hollywood

6. In any Hollywood movie about India

sw6.jpg

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I Have Voted, And So Are You

Bhaio aur behno, the summer in India has given us a spectacle like no other. Black money flowing around, pointless discussions between fanatic supporters on the social media and terribly distasteful ads being bombarded at us everytime we switch on the television or the radio. But, that’s enough about the IPL.

As the morning of 30th April dawned, I slapped the snooze button on my alarm clock like it were Arvind Kejriwal’s face and even thought about throwing ink and eggs at it. Sleep was more important than democracy at that time. But in a short time, I was walking to the polling booth where long queues of Gujjus were already forming. The last time I had seen so many Gujjus lining up, I was standing in line to enter a Navratri garba ground. As I awaited my turn to vote, I cast my mind back on the election campaign.

The 2014 Lok Sabha election campaigns had been, for the lack of a

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7 Types Of People You’ll Meet In The Comments Section

You miss the days when you could read an article without really worrying about what other people thought about it. But, those days are as extinct as Priety Zinta’s acting career. Nowadays, whenever you read an article online, whether it be an opinion piece or a news report, you can scroll down to the comments section to get the collective insights of the community. But, do so at your own peril. A philosopher would say that the comment section is always located on the bottom of the page because it represents the lowest level of human thinking. Reading through the comments would make you seriously believe this idea.

Although there are many people who do comment on such articles, they can be categorized as:

  1. The Screamer: This person always uses All-Caps to write his comments, which is better known as the Mamata Banerjee style of typing. Frustration has been building up inside him faster

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The Villager Who Loved Mangoes

Once upon a time, on the banks of a wide river, there stood a prosperous village. On the outskirts of the village lived a man named Mani. Mani was a poor man who just about made ends meet by selling vermilion, coconuts and other articles needed for daily worship outside the village temple. It was needless to say that he had no wife or children for what sensible man would give his daughter in marriage to the likes of him? Every night he would come to his one room hut, light a small fire and cook a meager supper. He would then sit and look at the mango tree in his backyard and wistfully remember how his forefathers had once owned sprawling mango orchards outside the village. However, an addiction to alcohol and love for gambling had permeated through the family tree and eventually, the orchard dwindled to just one mango tree. Mani took great care of the tree, devoting a sizable proportion

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