An unsuitable boy pdf free download

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Anderson PDF. Bogitsh, Clint E. Carter, Thomas N. Oeltmann PDF. Forster pdf. Karan Johar is synonymous with success, panache, quick wit, and outspokenness, which sometimes inadvertently creates controversy and makes headlines.

KJo, as he is popularly called, has been a much-loved Bollywood film director, producer, actor, and discoverer of new talent. With his flagship Dharma Production, he has constantly challenged the norms, written and rewritten rules, and set trends. In a Country where Cinema is almost a pseudo Religion and The Actors and Actresses get revered as Gods and Goddesses, where fortune is made and spent every Friday, Bollywood has been the centre of attraction and attention for a long time now.

The Kingmakers however, are the Directors, who enjoy their cult and followership. More importantly, they have made news in both the Big Screen and the Small TV screen with their presence too in the millennial world.

Be it fashion, glamour, Thought Leadership or Youth Followership, these Directors have carved a niche for themselves through avenues other than Cinema. Karan Johar, The Prince of Lavish Indian Wedding Love Stories, has been creating news both onstage and offstage with the constant flurry of news about his professional ventures and Personal Life.

Download An Unsuitable Boy by Bridget 3. Download An Unsuitable Boy. All I needed to do was shed a tear and. My mother, on the other hand, tried to be strict and enforce discipline. She was the one I was afraid of. We had a club next door called the WIAA and it had a pool, a table tennis table and a badminton court. A lot of my life was spent at that club. We had a very strong club culture in our area. In the evenings, Id go to the club, come back, watch TV, do nothing much, eat dinner early and go to bed.

That was my school routine. I never sulked but my mother loved to. I would get very upset when she did that. Even now I get very disturbed. When she goes quiet, it bothers me, I cant take it. Now I have trained her not to, but at that point shed do it.

The only times I remember crying were when I wanted to go to Hindi film previews. The biggest showdowns I had with her were when I used to weep to see a movie.

If the preview was at nine in the night and I had school the next day, my parents would say noand those were the times I remember bawling, throwing a tantrum that I needed to see the film! My only access avenue was previews or when my mother allowed me to take our domestic help and go to the cinema. While she was never very excited about watching movies, my father, though he was a part of the movie industry, was also not a movie fan.

Sometimes I dont understand how I have this fascination for cinema, though I know it started with music. My mother used to listen to music on cassettes and she had this Akai music system. All my knowledge of Hindi film music knowledge of the s, 50s and 60s, I got from my mother. Pick any song. My mother used to hold my hand and dance to Elvis Presley numbers.

She loved Elvis. She went to an Elvis Presley concert during her honeymoon with my father in Las Vegas and fainted. She fainted! My Punjabi producer father could not handle this happening on their honeymoon! But my mother was one of those fanatical Elvis fans; she also knew of the Beatles.

Although not a movie buff, she loved watching Rock Hudson and Doris Day starrers. So there was the Hollywood influence too. My mother was quite a chick in the s. My parents used to have a party at Waheeda auntys house on 18 March, every year, for many years. It was a ritual. Waheeda aunty had a house right behind where Salman Khan stays today. She has a bungalow in Bandra even now.

A lot of stars would come. Id take my neighbourhood friends with me and sit at the entrance with my autograph book. But those days, Hindi films were not a big deal among the younger kids. But I was from the film world and I knew it was a big deal.

However, kids around me were not like that. I grew up in a neighbourhood that was genuinely not aware of Hindi movies. I was over-aware. I knew too much. But my upbringing was not filmi at all, though my mum was close to Jaya aunty and Amit uncle, and I knew Abhishek and Shweta, Farhan and Zoya. We attended birthday parties together. But I never grew up with film people.

Most of my time was spent with rich kids. I always felt rich. But we were not rich. We were a middle-class family. My father was losing money in the movies, and making up with his export firm, which he ran alongside.

He was like a middle agent for handicrafts that were exported to America and France. My father was not in the best place economically, yet I was always made to believe I was richer than I actually was. I always lived above my standards and that continues till today because I was the only child.

But I was somehow so nervous that I messed up that interview. I refused to do anything. I was like a stone. They asked me to play with blocks and I refused. They asked me to open my mouth and I didnt. I just kept holding my mothers hand. I had poor social skills, which nobody would believe of me today! I was five or six years old when I was denied admission to Cathedral. It was earth-shattering. Then my mother took me to Campion, which is an all-boys school.

But there again, I did nothing. So she gave me a lecture and told me, You have to speak. My next interview was at St Marys. Nalini maasi cut hair, and I had seen her cut my mothers hair.

I was so influenced by that visual that when they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said I wanted to be a hair cutter.

My mother shouted at me and said, Couldnt you have said you wanted to be a pilot? All the other boys wanted to be pilots. But I didnt. I dont know whether my mother realized it or not, but I was always more inclined towards the arts.

I was interested in my mothers saris. I would stare at what my aunts were wearing. I was fascinated by the handbags they carried. My first thought was to say hair cutter. Because I thought that was the coolest thing in the world. At age six for a boy to have that kind of an aspiration was bizarre, especially in those days.

Obviously, I did not get into any of these schools. My mother wept, because for her education was the most important thing. She was shattered. I remember her sitting by the window, crying and yelling at my father: How can he not get into a good school? There was another top school called Green Lawns.

So my father said he would ask a friend to put in a word. Thats how I got into Green Lawns. It was a coed school. I remember the whole process of getting into my school uniform. I was very fat and my stomach stuckout. Growing up, I had a few friends in my building. I was a funny child and used to say funny things. Both my parents had a great sense of humour, so I got that from them. But I never tapped into that side too much, because I was so shy. My mother always encouraged me to make more friends, because I used to make friends with great difficulty.

She was concerned about me being so introverted and dependent on her. My Nalini maasi had a daughter called Natasha and there was some talk about sending me and Natasha to a boarding school. I somehow liked the idea, because I felt that I needed to reinvent my life. I was eleven then. My mother had been to a boarding school when she was eight and a half years old.

At the time when the discussion happened, I was all for it. Natasha and I were the same age and very close. First, we tried getting into Doon School. I went for the exam. The principal then was a gentleman called Gulab Ramchandani who was my mothers uncle.

I gave the test, but I was very bad at maths and got a zero in it. It was a multiple-choice test and you really cant get zero, so I dont know how I managed that! My mother got the letter about my results and again I saw her crying. Later on, I realized that I had misunderstood the format of the questions.

I didnt understand that we had to pick only one of the options. Or maybe, I was just dumb as hell. The principal wrote a very emotional letter to my mother, and told her.

So then everyone said, lets put him in a boarding school closer to Bombay, in Panchgani. There was a school called New Era. Dimples and Rajesh Khannas daughter Tina Twinkle Khanna , also somebody I knew as a kid because my mother was friends with Dimple, used to study there. Dimple suggested that Natasha and I could go there. So off we went. I was actually very impressive in my interview. The one thing I could do well, because of my aunts and my mother, was speak English better than most kids my age.

So whenever I had to impress anyone, I could do itif I dropped my guard, that is. The school followed the Bahi system of education, and it had a motley mix of age groups.

When I walked into my classroom, there was an eighteen-year-old and I just couldnt understand that. I remember feeling quite disoriented on day one. Then I got ragged that night which was fine.

Some kids put me in the bathroom and locked the door. But soon they realized I was very scared and so didnt treat me too badly. I met this kid called Ali; he was the only one who wanted to take care of me. He asked me if my parents were dead.

I said no. He asked, Are they divorced? He said, Do they hit you? He said, Then why are you here? I realized that this school had kids from different backgrounds who were trying to fit in. Or maybe, that was the perception I had. I remember asking Natashashe was in another section of the school: Are you okay? And she said, Yeah, its a bit different but Im getting along. But I was disoriented. On the second day, I realized I just couldnt do it. This was not me.

What was I doing here? I had a sinking feeling. I felt I couldnt stay there any more. I remember weeping loudly during assembly so that the principal would take notice. I was taken to the principals room and was asked why I was crying so loudly. And I said, I want to go back home. I want to talk to my mother. You were not allowed to make calls home because children had to go through this phase of feeling homesick. But I was too miserable. I wept so much that they allowed me to talk to my mother.

And my mother said, You know, Karan, I was in a boarding school too, you must be strong and brave. She gave me a big pep talk. But the very next day I realized it was not working. I met Tina, who was very boisterous, completely in control, and very popular in the school. Shed already been there two years. She said, Karan, do you have your tuck money? I said, Yeah, I do. She said, Then just run away! I said, But how can I just run? I had never done something so drastic in my life.

I was not a naughty kid, I was the good boy, the quiet child, the introvert, the one who the teacher never knew existed in her class. So I said, No, I cant do it. She said, Trust me, thats the only way. How much money do you have? I had around rupees. She said, Theres a slope down the gate, you head down that slope, and go to the bus stop.

The bus will take you from Panchgani to Mahabaleshwar, from there you can catch a train. Buy a train ticket to Bombay, to Dadar, and from there catch a cab and go home. I kept saying, no, no, no. But she said again, Trust me, thats the only way. That night I couldnt sleep. Then I thought I should do that. I was dying to go home.

I never knew that anything could happen to me if I went ahead with this hare-brained scheme. Imagine a kid just leaving like that. I wouldnt do it today. I dont know what made me do it then. So I got up in the morning, took out my money, put it in my bag, got out of the Kanga House dorm and went to the gate. I opened it and for some reason I started running.

I didnt know it was such a steep slope, so I slipped and rolled down. There were three watchmen right there at another gate. I was caught and brought back to the dorm.

That morning, in the assembly, the principal actually said that there was this boy from Kanga House who was trying to run away but hed been brought back. He told the children, If you try to run, you will get caught. He made an example of me. I was a mess that day. I had failed in my attempt. I was ashamed of myself. The school called my parents. My father came down; my mother had an angina attackliterally. She had to be rushed to hospital. My father came in his car to Panchgani. I still recall the moment.

I was standing right at the slope, just like that scene in Taare Zameen Par, which, by the way, was shot in the same school. I wept buckets when I saw the film because it brought back such a flood of memories. I remember seeing my father in his red car, a second-hand Toyota Corolla a car that always reminds me of my father. I ran up to him, panting and puffing because I was so overweight. I beg you, please take me home, I kept saying. He said, No, you must stay, Mummy has said you must try.

Natasha and I went with him to this hotel called Hill Palazzo that weekend. Actually, my father wanted to bring me back home as much as I wanted to be home. But he was scared because my mother had warned him that he should not be weak and that I was too spoilt.

He fed me, took care of me, talked to me, asked me if there was any problem in class or in school. Saturday passed. Sunday came. On Monday, I had to go back to school. That Sunday night at about seven, my father came with some mangoes that he had brought from home. He began cutting them and giving me slices to eat. I was burning with fever because I had just built it up so much in my head. I had about Fahrenheit fever.

I was eating the mangoes and weeping. Even my poor father started crying. I hugged him and told him, Papa, please. I cant do this. I want to be with you, I want to be with Mummy, and I promise I wont eat. Because I was so fat, one of the things I said was that I would not eat for one month. For some stupid reason, I thought if I said I would not eat for one month, they would be happy.

Which parent would be happy if their child didnt eat for one month! She said, not at all. Natasha was much stronger than I was. Natasha said, I dont want to go home. So Natasha went back to school. My father didnt tell my mother but he brought me to Bombay the next day. We reached home and rang the doorbell.

My mother opened the door, saw me, went to her room and banged the door shut. I will never forget that momentthe shiver of fear that ran through my head, my heart, my spine.

And she herself was ill. My father knocked on her door, but she wouldnt open it. I knocked too, crying, saying, Mummy, please open the door. Her validation meant everything to me. Eventually, I went to my room and just sat down there.

That evening, finally she called me. I dont think I can ever obliterate that conversation from my memory. Her opening line was: Do you want to be mediocre all your life?

Then she said, Youre a mediocre student. You have no interest in sports. You dont make friends. Do I want to raise a child who never made any difference to the world? Do you want to make a difference to this world or not? You can do anything you want, Karan, but you have to do one thing well.

Either sing well, or be a hard-working student who does well in economics, or play a sport well. But you dont do anything well. You dont want to. You just want to hold on to me. I cannot bear this.

I cannot bear that my child is not good at anything. What are you good at? Tell me, what are you good at? I looked at her She was right. She had always been positive, she would encourage me to try everything, to join a sports camp or an art class, but I would always leave it.

I was so caught up in my own head about being overweight and effeminate that I was resisting any interaction with the outside world. There was professional growth, yes, but that comes with its own stresses and insecurities. And there was a general feeling of loneliness, emptiness, of being vacant, being burdened by the lack of love. Or the lack of companionship perhapsdespite being surrounded by people. I felt like I was going through something that required medication.

Mere conversation was. My doctor put me on medication, monitored it,. Im totally off it now. Sometimes we ou feel its just a phase. We dont realize that in our times, this has now io H at m. I call it ul do n. It needs to be addressed, either through therapy or irc an rc R. I just knew fo uin. Im quite self-aware. I didnt feel I needed ot g N Pen. I felt I needed a.

Now I dont go for the sessions but Im still in touch with my rig. Once every few months, I touch base with her. Were WhatsApp py Co. Not that I badger her with messages. She walked me through the writing of Ae Dil Hai Mushkil when I was feeling the burden of my unrequited love. She messaged me the other day, saying, Saw the promos.

Feels really surreal, I feel a part of that. Which she was. I dont want to say its an autobiography because theres a lot of fiction in it but there are scenes and conversations that are very true to what happened in my life. Im pretty much Ranbir Kapoor in the film, and the film is all about him and his broken heart. Theres a dialogue that goes: Rishtey jab jismani ho jaate hain toh kahin na kahin dosti mit jaati hai.

Pyaar mein junoon hai par dosti mein sukoon hai aur main nahin chahti ki hamare beech ka sukoon kabhi chala jaaye. The person I. But I was also told, youre the most important person in my life, youre my family, youre my everything, youre just not my lover.

This happened when I was thirty-five. Its taken me so many years to get over it. I realize that sometimes heartbreak is a luxury. You just lie in that spa of heartbreak for months. Love is such an indulgent emotion. But I tried everything to get over it. I tried rationalizing it internally, I tried sitting with friends and discussing it they told me I was being stupid, idiotic, nonsensical. But only you know what you go through.

The only thing it did to me. I never regret those years. They gave. Theres a dialogue in the film: Ek tarfa pyaar ki se taaqat hi kuch aur hoti hai. Aur rishton ki tarah yeh do logon mein nahin ou bant ti.

I believe in that very strongly. That power of love is mine. It could be a weakness, it could be a irc an rc R. Its how you look at it.

I look at the love I had as a source of fo uin. I built my company to the optimum fuelled by that ot g N Pen. It gave me some kind of energy. It hurt me, it broke my heart,. I dont regret it. It hurt ht. A third person changed the dynamic. Theres always separation because of a third person. Sometimes siblings change because one of them gets married. But Im finally over it because I put it out there.

I wrote about it, I lived it, I shot it, I executed it. There are scenes, moments in the film that are completely me. The film is based on love and friendship. Its about how sometimes you can be in a situation where you can never translate friendship into love. Sex can change the dynamics. I never had sex with either of the two people I was in love with. The second person got married, moved country and now Im not in touch with that person any more. The only thing that hurt me was that I was promised so much, but I never even got that friendship.

Because of the third person. But the first person I was in love with is still very much a part of my life. I I feel a lot more internal today. Its strangeI used to be the most peoples person, today I feel far more introverted. I dont feel the need for noise around me any more. I dont feel like going to a crowded party. I go because I have to; Ive become less people-friendly. Id rather. I dont want to be the life of a party se no more.

I feel bored. Ive done it excessively for the last fifteen years. Now I dont feel the need to be over-reverential to ul do n. You could call it disdain, detachment or just fo uin. It depends on how you look at life. Im happy in the confines ot g N Pen.

This devotion to work also happens when you dont have children, ht. Im constantly asked, Are you having enough rig. Somehow, people equate being in the entertainment industry with py Co.

But I dont want that much. Actually I dont care about it. Im not one who switches on porn to feel happy before I pass out at night. People think that since I travel so much, I must be having a lot of sex. But it doesnt happen that way. A boarding pass is not a pass for sex. Im not in love with anyone any more.

Im love-free, sex-free completely free. I feel Im not accountable to anyone and my mother has given me the strength to say that Im not even accountable to her any more. I now have a child who I have to take care of and thats my mother.

I feel like the patriarch of this company, the man of the house, running it as I want to. I dont want to please anyone any longer. I say no a lot more easily than I ever did. And I say yes with a lot more abandon than I ever have. I feel the new emotion Ive acquired is honesty, something Ive not had in the last decade because I felt the need not to be honest in personal or professional situations.

There was a time when I was very concerned about what other film-makers did. I was so bothered that other film-makers were making better films than I didit was borderline jealousy, competition. I used to tell myselfacknowledge it, that way youll get better. But I was not being honest. I was just doing the politically correct thing. Actually I was jealous. I used to sometimes wish their films wouldnt do as well as they did.

I used to be troubled by Sanjay Leela Bhansalis brilliance. I used to be affected that. But now Im not bothered. Today I dont se care. If I hear a film has done well, great. Good for you. Hope you ou made lots of money. Great three hours of cinema. Well done! Now move on. I wonder what happened.

I analysed it and wonderedis there a irc an rc R. But thats not true because Im alive in fo uin. I dont care if my film has done crore or crore rupees ht.

I feel accountable to the py Co. I want to ensure that every employee of this company is catered to emotionally, personally and professionally. Thats all-important for me. Other than that, no. I have no interest in accountability to the rest of the world. Do I want to broaden my horizons? Ill see how it pans out. Do I want to attach myself to a studio? I dont know. Do I want to get into a Web series?

For what? I dont feel I want to give myself a cardiac arrest for no reason. If I feel like it, Ill do it. If I feel like making a film, Ill do it. If I dont, I wont. Sometimes Ill go wrong. Too bad. I hope Ill pay the price for it only so that I dont do that again. Ive had a couple of duds recently and many successes. And strangely, my reaction to both situations was not extreme. Im a lot more detached from my professional zone than I was.

This doesnt mean that Im disinterested. I love what I do. But Im detached from the eventuality of a product, the success that I used to give so much importance to. If it flops, its fine, something else will work. If its a hit, great, move on. Now I feel numb to both success and failure. The only thing that excites me is when I leave my zone and get lost on a trip, check into a hotel, sit in my own space.

As I said, liberated. And ready for the latter se half of my life. There are some thoughts: Am I going to get married? Am I ever going to move out of this country? These are io H at m. I know where Im going.

Am I going to be lonely? Theres a lot of ambiguity, yet theres clarity. Im almost excited irc an rc R. Will someone waltz into my fo uin. I dont ot g N Pen. It could happen, though Im very cynical now and dont think.

I find most people very annoying and I dont think I want to share ht. Even if Im in a relationship, I feel weve got rig. And Im not moving in with anyone, py Co. And do what I want to do. Am I going to be a sugar daddy? I dont mind. Im open to that now. If somebodys going to be dancing to my whims and fancies, I dont mind. Am I open to loving again? I dont think I can do that level of intensity again. Im too old. The drama of love has always excited me but I dont think I care enough now.

I dont think I can love like that again. I feel you can go through it only twice in your life. I dont think theres a third time. The third time you just get married. Everyone has that one love story in their nascent years. Mine was a bit delayed. And then theres that one love story you have in your later years. If neither of them works out, then you go straight into your third zonemarriage or whatever it is that people do today, maybe move in together.

I dont think my. If something does happen so be it, if it doesnt Im fine. If people waltz into my life organically, fine. I cant constantly keep in touch. Im becoming a slacker even when it comes to text messages. I used to be so alert. Now I wish I could have a new number. Ive become a reluctant social person. It used to be in my DNA. But Im completely slipping. By the time I turn fifty, I might even become a recluse. I might shock myself.

I loved it so much. Film- ou making is my primary and only passion. I love that one can play god io H at m. Giving instructions, being in controlthese ul do n. Even when Im on someone elses set I irc an rc R. Im not a control freak but I know that fo uin.

Ive always felt like Im somebody ot g N Pen. I feel like Im walking into my next phase. Theres a door opening ht. I feel there will be a lot of upheaval, a lot of drama, rig. I was born and brought up in Malabar ul do n irc an. We stayed in a building called Acropolis, which was in a rc R.

The address fo uin. Somehow, you always remember your ot g N Pen. Bombay If you ask me the exact address of my new home, it wont ht.

The building was in a compoundit was a regular building, there py Co. We had a two-bedroom house on the ninth floor, about square feet. As soon as you opened the door, there was a narrow passage. My moms and dads room was on the left and a few feet away was my room with a sofa-cum-bed and a desk.

On the extreme left was a tiny kitchen. And then there was a hall and a little dining area. We had a wonderful view of the Queens Necklace. We could look out on the whole cityscape of Bombay. My room was rather simple and basic. I had no posters on the wall or anything like that. I was not that obsessed by any movie star to put up posters in my room. I never was that person. It was a tiny flat, but my parents were very social.

They always had friends over. My aunts were around a lot. My parents used to have these. The vibe of the house was especially inviting; there was a warmth about it that made people stay on. I believe very strongly in the energy of spaces. I am very susceptible to these energies. When I walk into someones house, I immediately know whether I am going to be comfortable or not. Sometimes a close friends house can be uncomfortable and a strangers home inviting.

Its really all about energy. I was an only child and much loved by my parents. I remember being obsessed with my mother, which is a very Punjabi thing to do. My mother is Sindhi. My father, a Punjabi, was much older than my mother. He was forty and already bald and grey when he had me. So my. Fathers are generally strict, but I never experienced io H at m. My father was always loving and we were very tactile as father and ul do n.

He used to pinch my cheeks and I used to hug and kiss him. Very irc an rc R. In fact, both my fo uin. I was a good, quiet, obedient kid. I never got into any fist fights. I dont have any of those ht. I had one fall at the Hanging Garden right opposite our rig.

I fell off a swing, so I had some kind of an injury. I lived in a py Co. It was a protected, sheltered life. I always felt different. I didnt feel like the other boys around me or the girls around me. I couldnt pinpoint what it was. I dont mean that I had a sad childhood.