Chilli Flakes

Collective Venting

2011-06-16T23:47:00.000-07:00

Yet another ping-from-oblivion attempt to resuscitate this blog.

I have the urge to vent out my ire/frustration/desperation/anger on a lot of things. So, I will try to do it in the subsequent paragraphs in as methodical a way as the venting allows.

Roads, more roads, wide roads, jams, roads, more roads, wide roads ...
On June 5th the residents of Malleshwaram, Stella Maris School and Hasiru Usiru organised a protest against the planned road-widening in Sampige Road and Sankey Road. A quick list of tangible items that will be lost:

People's homes, shops, means of livelihood (for street vendors)
Entire building of a school
Trees

The arguments thrown against us before/during/after the protest:
“You want wide roads in front of your homes, but not in other places.”
If they ones (MLA's coterie) who said this had even read the pamphlet, they would've understood that we do not wide roads anywhere.

“Cars moving faster will reduce the emissions.”
A reason that was thrown from multiple people, and one that I've heard for quite some time now. It is laughable! If people want to reduce emissions, they should take public transport. The problem is that the middle class/upper middle class has become so elitist that they consider buses as something only the poor will/should go in. And they are never afraid to bring up the “democracy” card – we will buy cars and we will drive them; we have that right.

I absolutely agree. But what you don't have the right is to bloody complain about traffic congestion. The cars are the damn CAUSE of traffic congestion! If each single occupancy car was removed off the roads and brought into buses, there will be no traffic problems!

On the other hand, wider roads only encourage more private transport. And this doesn't lead to less emissions.

What about pedestrians?
In this insane urge to pander to the auto-mobile users, the majority (in terms of numbers) of the road users are ignored. In Bangalore, around 50% of daily commute happens using public transport. How will people be able to walk to/from the bus stands, if vehicles are constantly zipping by on signal-free roads.

The immediate reply to this - “We'll construct subways, sky-walks.” Sigh!
So, yesterday, when Vinay asked the MLA how the physically challenged or senior citizens would be able to climb up subways/sky-walks, he responded, “We'll build lifts!” Sigh!
We aren't able to guarantee electricity for street lights, but we'll be able to maintain these lifts?

Therein lies the basic problem. Policies, decisions, initiatives are all taken without worrying about how it will affect the most unprivileged. It's just about self-convenience.

Self-convenience (or just selfishness?)
As part of the road-widening on Sampige Road, the BBMP workers began to demolish the compound walls of Mantri Mall and Mantri Greens (an up-scale residential complex). The residents came out with sticks to beat up the workers.

Now, it's quite likely that, when talking about tribals fighting for their rights, these same residents would have spouted the usual “No one can take law in their hands. The tribals have to fight through democratic means.” And here they are (these residents) who have no compunction in beating up the workers. Talk about irony … or is it just hypocrisy?

“Democratic means”
Another buzz-phrase that is thrown around by a lot of people (especially in the online space) - “democratic means”. What this means is that people have the democratic right to protest … within certain parameters; and the parameters could vary, but the end-goal is always the same. Do not inconvenience the apathetic public.

Yes, violence can never be condoned. So, people protest on the streets. Or go on fast-unto-death protests. And both these non-violent forms are unacceptable, apparently. The former, because it “blocks” traffic, and the latter, because it is tantamount to blackmail.

So, what are people left with? Elections once every five years? Online petitions? Or, anything that doesn't affect the comfortable lives of the privileged.

Yes, self-convenience indeed holds the reins. Wonder what it will take for this grip to loosen.

Anyway, time for more protests. Life, it goes on.

NIMBY → Ningaeno?

2009-12-29T01:51:00.000-08:00

Few incidents in the recent (actually, not so recent, as this post has been a long time in the making) past.

Incident 1:
I was cycling to work, up Magadi Road. The signal turned red, and a huge line of vehicles waited. A guy in a motorbike honked to get past me. I let him so that he could wait behind a push-cart that waited along with us. We were between a bus on one side and the footpath on the other. The signal turned green, and immediately the biker next to me began honking. Incessantly. The push-cart just stood as there were a lot of vehicles in front of him. That didn't deter the biker. So I turned to him:
me: Yaakri isht horn hoditheera? [Note the respect in “yaakri” and “-theera”]
Why are you honking so much?
biker: Ningaeno? [Note the respect ... or lack of in the “-no”]
What's your problem?
[It amazed me then how just a single word could provoke me so. The amazement wasn't that surprising on hindsight.]
me: Avar yel hogthaare? Yel jaagaa idhae? Isht joraagi horn hodhrae, nam kivi-ge kashtaa agalva?
Where will he go? Where is the place? If you honk so loudly, aren't you troubling our ears?
biker: [Raises his hand to slap/beat me]
[Still amazed ...]
me: Yen kai yeththaidheeya? Yeththidhre kathrisaakbidhteeni! [So ya, I finally had to descend to the “no-respect” zone. I honestly tried not to.]
What are you raising your hands for? Raise them again, and I will chop them off!
biker: Baere yaaraadhru complain maadthaaidhaaraa?
Is anyone else complaining?
me: Aa gaadi-avaruna kaeli. Haelthaare ...
Ask that cart guy, he will tell you ...

But the cart guy had left. There were other people honking from behind us. And we went our ways. It was another 20 minutes before my anger subsided. Somewhat.

Incident 2:
Was driving the car after a 3 week break. With parents and Anitha. We were waiting at the Chord Road, Rajajinagar 1st Block signal. Thanks to the supreme holy cow Metro (not going to throw ire at this target in this post) work, signals are longer than usual. Which is good if it gives pedestrians more time to cross. Unfortunately, it's just vehicles taking more time to cross. So there were a lot of vehicles waiting on the road perpendicular to us (Wockhardt to ISKCON). The pile-up resulted in people taking the service lanes. Which is still fine. Then those bastards decided to break all possible rules (jump signals, wrong side, block traffic) and get into the main lane ... when they should have taken a left, a U-turn and then get back to the signal.

This resulted in vehicles getting blocked. People who couldn't turn left on to the road as all these people were blocking their path on the wrong side. A biker was standing across the divider. So I turned to him (I realise that most of my confrontations begin with a “I turned to him.” Maybe I should just look straight ahead. Hmm ...):
me: Yaakri wrong side-alli idheeraa? Traffic block maadthaidheera!
Why are you on the wrong side? You are blocking the traffic!
biker: Ningaeno?
(does it need translation?)
[Holy crap! Was there a school that primed these people to dole out the Ningaeno? reply?]
[I don't remember exactly how the conversation proceeded. It involved a lot of swearing. Words that my mom probably thought never existed in my mouth. And more swearing.]

After this went on for a few more minutes, and the biker actually went away ... in the right direction, my mom asked me, “Avan solradhu saridhaane? Vaera yaarumae edhum sollalle? Namma mattum edhukku sollanum?” (What he is saying is right? Is anyone else complaining? Why should we complain?) I didn't say anything. My mom continued, “Un health-dhaan spoil aagum.” Of course, she had also joined in the shouting-fest with the biker.

Later that night, Anitha, “I was really scared ... seeing you so angry!” But ya, they both know that I would do this again. And again. And, so would they.

Probably why avoiding all private transport seems to be the best option right now.

Which brings me back to the title of this post. We used to think that NIMBY was the reason for a lot of our problems (be it small-scale or large). It was a common attitude to ignore things happening as long as it was Not In My Back Yard.

So, are we now moving to an even more socio-path-apathetic state. Now, people aren't satisfied in not questioning the wrongs happening in general, but also make it a point to question the right to question. And that scares me. But doesn't deter me. Which means a lot more fights, a lot more confrontations, and a lot more stressed out days.

And moments of self-restraint when the BMTC driver decides to overtake another bus instead of giving way to an ambulance? Maybe not.

Light at the end of the tunnel

2009-10-16T05:25:00.000-07:00

This saying almost always has a positive connotation. I experienced one of the exceptions today.

I was getting back from work on Nanda Talkies Road. Ya ya, the same road for which we in Hasiru Usiru had a lot of protests to prevent if from being butchered by the behemoth Metro. So at the beginning of the road, I wondered for the millionth time on the tree cover. The dip in temperature as you enter the road is astounding. Light seldom permeates through the thick tree cover. It is literally like a tunnel. And as I kept going on the road, I could see faint snatches of the light. Closer. Closer. And then, out of nowhere was the source of the light ... absolute barrenness!

Half of one of the umpteen Lakshman Rao Parks had been decimated. Enclosed within the shining green (ah the goddamn irony) Namma Metro barricades. It was a painful reminder of our failed protests.

Fruitless or Toothless?

On the days of the Lalbagh and Metro protests, we would have a plea of hope from Boda. It was very simple, “Each one of us should get ten more people” and the increased numbers will help the cause. Every protest, all we provided (and received) was a slap in the face! We managed to get 300 people for ONE protest. That's it.

Why was that? Apathy? Cynicism? Disagreement?

Disagreement might have been the main reason. And that is fair enough. People didn't agree with our cause. With our arguments against the Metro. Against the tree-felling. Fair enough. What hurt was the percentage of “agreers” who actually turned up. Even if 1% of them had gotten out of their seats and showed up, things could have been different. Maybe.

Shut the @#$% up!

There is this overwhelming urge in me to scream at the next person who says he is saddened by Bangalore's loss of green cover. If that person couldn't turn up and be one of the faces/voices for our cause ...

Never mind. I do not want to continue the post in this manner. I will just end it with ANOTHER request for people to turn up for the next protest. Tentatively on the 24th of October.

See you all there.

Hopefully.

Bearded days ...

2009-07-15T19:30:00.000-07:00

I know what you are thinking. You expect me to write a post talking about how it's been a long time since I visited this part of the woods, blah blah ... well, that is true. But nope, I am not going to talk about all that. Instead, just like a Michael Bay movie, let me jump right to the action.

So this morning I was walking from the Mambalam station in Chennai to my aunt-uncle's house. It was 5 in the morning. Barely a furlong (it was shorter than a furlong ... but I like to use the word since I have no clue how far/near it is) from the house, a policeman stops me ... and this conversation unfolds:
Policeman: Hey, where are you coming from?
Me: From Bangalore. Now I am walking from Mambalam station.
P: Come here, show me what's in your bag.
I open my bag and show him what's there.
P: What do you do?
M: I am a software engineer.
P: You don't look like one. You look like a terrorist ... like Osama Bin Laden.
I keep quiet.
P: Show me your ID card.
I show him.
P: See (pointing at a clean-shaven version of me) ... this is how you should be. What can't you be?
M: I am sporting a beard for style ...
P: But anybody who is a terrorist has a beard ... don't you know that?
M: Not true. I can show you photos of terrorists without a beard.
P: No way.

At which point, I decide that 5 in the morning isn't a good time to get into an argument. I just smile and walk home.

And after the “action” comes the rumination. I remembered Rajjo telling me about the time he visited Lincoln Memorial (or was it the White House?) with an unshaven look and everybody kept staring at him. So, we've reached that stage finally. We had probably reached that stage quite some time back; it just caught up with me now.

So what do I plan on doing? I needed 2 seconds to decide ... I've found a solid enough reason to keep the beard now. It's my own crusade of sniffing out the bigots of society.

On a slightly related note, later in the day, I was at the client office and needed to use the rest-room. I go to the end of the corridor and see doors – Ladies, Managers, Gents. And no I am not trying to channel Dilbert-isms here. I was genuinely shocked to see this. Do managers pee nectar? What sort of company even comes up with such practices? Again, there are probably a thousand companies in the world that practise such “discrimination”, it's just my first time.

I am really pissed.
(and not the managerial kind!)

Save Lalbagh: Explore Alternatives for Metro

2009-04-22T12:25:00.002-07:00

Please read the petition and sign it. Thanks.

Here is the link.

Protest Against Proposed Metro Corridor on Nanda Road, Jayanagar - Apr 19th, 2009

2009-04-18T02:35:00.000-07:00

Please be there.

http://hasiruusiru.org/joomla/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=76:upcoming-protest-against-proposed-metro-corridor-in-on-nanda-road-jayanagar&catid=52:protests&Itemid=76

Save Lalbagh, Save Nanda Road, Save Bangalore’s future

Nanda Road, Jayanagar (courtesy M.A.Ravinder)

Join the protest against the impending destruction of Nanda Road, Jayanagar

Sunday, Apr 19, 5pm, 32nd Cross, Nanda Road

The Bangalore Metro Rail Corporation (BMRCL) plans to route the Metro through Nanda Road, which will cause the felling of 323 trees on this majestic avenue, and destruction of Lakshman Rao Park. Earlier this week 500 feet of Lalbagh's wall was demolished and trees were illegaly felled inside Lalbagh.

This protest is in continuation of the successful protests we held at Lalbagh's West Gate on April 15 and 17.

Come in large numbers. Bring expressive posters

Simply Stated

Bangalore’s Metro can go underground and save the city and its landmarks for posterity.

We urge the Government to scrap the totally unnecessary Rs. 3,000 crores investment in the High Speed Rail Link from M G Road to Bangalore airport, which will serve the needs of only 30,000 air travellers.

We demand the Government invest this Rs. 3000 crores to take the Metro Underground – and serve the needs of lakhs of people now and in future.

This is techno-economically possible, if there is political will and vision.

Want to know more? Read on.

Metro's Impact on Lalbagh

1135.18 square metres of Lalbagh Botanical Garden has been acquired for a Metro Station.
This has been done by an Ordinance to the Karnataka Parks Act, without prior public consultation or democratic debate.
Bangalore Metro Rail Corporation Limited (BMRCL) has demolished 500 ft of the wall and cut 5 trees along the Lal Bagh West Gate on 13th-14th April
This will surely lead to a greater portion of the park being taken away to create parking zones and malls at the Metro stations, as planned.

Metro's Impact on Nanda Road and Other Parks

When BMRCL sought clearance, it claimed that trees on Nanda Road will only be pruned, not cut.
Now in response to an RTI application BMRCL has confirmed that 323 trees will be cut on Nanda – RV road. That is ALMOST ALL TREES ON NANDA ROAD WILL BE CUT.
42 other trees will be pruned and cause a huge loss in Nanda road, tree canopy and park areas
BMRCL also plans to acquire land in Indira Gandhi Musical Fountain and Cubbon Park and trees will come under the axe.
The alignment through Lalbagh and Nanda Road has been extended to Kanakapura Road in total contravention of the Karnataka Town and Country Planning Act, and is likely to be an economic disaster as the potential ridership here is not very significant.

This metro phase is illegal because…

The BBMP Tree Officer has confirmed that the tree cutting in Lalbagh was not approved at all. If this can happen to trees in Lalbagh, you can imagine what this means to trees across the city.
The High Court of Karnataka is hearing a PIL over alternatives in Metro alignment, and in total indifference to this process, work is in progress.
On 16th March 2009, the High Court of Karnataka ruled in a PIL filed by Environment Support Group and ors. (WP 7107/2008) categorically instructing all urban infrastructure development agencies to "strictly follow" the provisions of the Karnataka Town and Country Planning Act (KTCPA) and the Karnataka Tree Preservation Act. This order is binding on the BBMP, BMRCL and BDA.
This KTCPA requires planning and implementation authorities to evolve projects in consultation with the Public. It demands a detailed process of enquiry into socio-economic and environmental impact of projects undertaken, by transparently devising public plans. None of these statutory provisions have been followed for Metro construction in Lalbagh and Nanda Road or its extension to Kanakapura Road.
As per the electoral code of conduct, no fresh infrastructural developmental projects can be initiated during election time
Major landmarks will be destroyed for a project that may not effectively serve public transport needs.

WHAT THE POLITICOS SAY:

Jayanagar MLA Mr. B N Vijaykumar (BJP) is on record to state that this alignment was fixed without any consultation with Legislators or the public. He has stated that investing Rs. 2,000 crores more would save this city from certain ruin by the Metro.
Dr. Hemachandra Sagar, another BJP MLA has joined protests against the Metro alignment through Lalbagh in November 2008.
Mr. Dinesh Gundu Rao (Congress I), MLA, has also joined protests against this alignment in November 2008 and called for a debate before taking up work. Yet the ordinance was passed by the present Government, escaping public and political debate, thus tearing at the very heart of democracy.
Mr. Narendra Babu, MLA (Congress I) has joined protests and called for a democratic debate on the Metro alingnment.

Bangalore South Lok Sabha Candidates have woken up to our collective call.

Some have taken a stand on the issue.

Capt. Gopinath and Mr. Santosh Min, both Independent candidates, have called for a stop of Metro construction through Lalbagh and said the Metro should go underground and save the city and its public ommons. Capt. Gopinath has expressed concern that taking up the Metro in this waywould “destroy the entire character” of Bangalore and asserted “There are some things that are not touched”.
Mr. Krishna Byregowda, Congress I candidate, has stated that he wants the Metro but not “by destroying the cultural or historical heritage like Lalbagh”.
Mr. Ananth Kumar (BJP candidate) and Prof. Radhakrishna (Janata Dal S candidate) have said nothing at all on this issue.
This is not an issue only for Bangalore South Candidates, but should be an issue for all candidates. CALL YOUR CANDIDATE TODAY AND ASK HIM/HER TO TAKE A STAND.

Namma metro? YAARA METRO?

The Metro Phase 1 will be ready only 5 years from now and costs tax payers 9000 crores.
Yet, it will carry only 10 lakh passengers (12%) of Greater Bangalore’s population in 2012. The BMTC already carries 38 lakh passengers daily.
If Metro has to be extended to the whole city there will be continuous construction for the next 100 years, impacting nearly 3 generations.
Traffic congestion will be far worse, because only a small part of Bangalore is going to use the Metro, but the infrastructure will eat into existing road space.

What can YOU do?

Join the protests and follow up actions.
Spread the word to people in your neighbourhood, schools, colleges, clubs, associations etc
Photocopy this leaflet and distribute to passers by
Get creative! Use theatre, radio, film, art, music, dance creatively to express your opinion
Get support from your local ward officer, Government bodies, Resident Welfare Associations and other citizens initiatives
Get support from local candidates in your constituency
Mobilise the youth from colleges and schools in your area
Stay informed. Subscribe to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HasiruUsiru/ mailing list.
Mail your phone numbers to hu.bangalore@gmail.com for immediate updates through sms
For more information on the impacts of Metro and other infrastructure projects like road widening, visit Hasiru Usiru and ESG India

HUG A TREE, RECLAIM YOUR CITY

Our trees belong with you and me

For details, please contact hu.bangalore@gmail.com or 98802 83974 or 98805 95032

All data presented here has been gathered through RTI applications, discussions with officials, newsreports, etc.

Issued in the public interest by Hasiru Usiru, a network of individuals and organisations working to protect public spaces, public commons and urban greens in and around Bangalore .

Lots of Music

2008-06-07T04:01:00.000-07:00

The past few weeks have been pretty hectic in terms of buying music albums. Just thought I would give my quick thoughts on them.

Movie: Aamir
Composer: Amit Trivedi
Language: Hindi
For a first-timer, the album is really amazing! Shades of God in a few of the songs. The best tracks are Haara (sung by the composer himself) and Ek Lau (Shilpa Rao, Amitabh).

Movie: Ada
Composer: A R Rahman
Language: Hindi
Ten tracks! That was my first thought! A God album with this many tracks is an absolute windfall. And tracks that remind you of a Rahman of the early 2000s. Took me a long time to actually figure out my favourite. Eventually, I had to go with my usual “escape-route” – went with the one sung by Him - Meherbaan. Rashid Ali, the guitarist, does a great job in Ishq Ada, while Parul Mishra impresses even more in the female version of the same track. Nostalgic to listen to Jayachandran (or for that matter, Alka Yagnik) in Milo Wahan Wahan. Udit in Hai Dard is a treat as well. Well, I could just go on and on … great stuff!

Movie: Chakravyuham
Composer: Karthik Raaja
Language: Tamil
Karthik Raaja (KR) just hasn’t been as prolific as his younger brother (or father (duh!)), but this album has its high moments. Bela Shende is very good in the duet with KR in Idhayaththai Kaanom. Though I am not a fan of KR’s voice, I still enjoyed the other duet with Saindhavi (more on her in a few moments) in Yei Unnidam. The half song-half oration Neeraadiduvom rocks … and all the more with Karthik’s immense range. And of course, the lines of “vaazhaikkaai bajji, vengaaya bajji, thottukka chutney, konduvaa machi!”.

Movie: Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na
Composer: A R Rahman
Language: Hindi
Two back-to-back God albums. Wow! Iruvar-Minsara Kanavu. Alaipayuthey-Kandukondaen Kandukondaen. And Ada-JTYJN comes along the same illustrious lines. Rashid Ali (again) totally flows in Kabhi Kabhi Aditi, Runa sings achingly in Jaane Tu Mera Kya Hai. Blaaze and a huge group of Rahman current regulars rock with Pappu Can’t Dance!

Movie: Kaalai Pani
Composer: Sathish Ramalingam
Language: Tamil
A huge huge thanks to f@rt who introduced me to this album. Everything about this album is so low-key, because of which I am tempted to write reams and reams on this. Let’s start with Sulaba in Ennamma Thozhi. Best song of this year! The initial days of listening to this song resulted in tears. Every single time. Then comes Thottuvidum Dhoorathil, the male version sung by Vedanth, and the female version sung by Reshmi. Such amazing singing! The tune is the same, but yet it sounds and feels so different. Vedanth (who has sung all the male tracks in this album) again does a great job in Kandaene Naan. Just as if to prove that melody isn’t the only thing he excels at, the composer gives us Albania Pookkal which is peppy and simple at the same time. Actually, I would call this the best album of the year. It impresses so much. And the effect is compounded when it hits you from nowhere. Truly great!

Movie: Psycho
Composer: Raghu Dixit
Language: Kannada
The beauty of radio is that some songs just get you hooked on immediately, and the search and pain you go through to track the album, composer, etc. adds to the experience. Long before this album released, there were two tracks that had me really intrigued – Neene Nagu and Ninna Poojage Bande. They sounded different, and with a bit of extended search, I found out that they were the songs from the album Psycho (source of this information was from Raghu Dixit’s blog). So, after days of pestering the Planet M close to my office, when I finally got the album, my expectations (already sky-high) were met so easily and overthrown. It is that good! Let’s start with Raghu Dixit in the anthemic Preethiyaa Manashanthiyaa. Speaks about the greatness of Karnataka in such beautiful words and notes. Then Ee Tanuvu (the one I had christened Neene Nagu) … the best part is at the 3:18 mark. Everything stops, and a violin plays around with your emotions for a few seconds, and then it’s back to rock. Ninna Poojage Bande is a devotional song sung on dope, and is filled with so much angst, spirit … stunning! Saindhavi excels in the classical Mussanje Rangalli. Raghu Dixit exudes melancholy and nothing else in Yaeno Idhe. Haricharan (the Joshua Sridhar favourite) and Saindhavi are so damn good in Beladingalanthe Minu Minugutha. If Mungaaru Male caused a revolution in Kannada music, Psycho should definitely usher in another one. Kudos to Raghu Dixit.

Movie: Subramaniyapuram
Composer: James Vasanthan
Language: Tamil
Probably, the songs of this album impressed me a bit more as the composer was (or maybe still is) a presenter in Sun TV. Probably, I was a bit amazed by his multiple talents. But, truthfully, the album is good because it’s good. Simple. Belly Raj and Deepa Miriam do a great job in the best track Kangal Irandaal. Madura Kulunga appeals to my soft corner for folk music. A very decent effort.

Let me conclude by saying, please please listen to Kaalai Pani. Sorry … just not able to help it!

Right to Complain

2008-05-12T05:18:00.000-07:00

So, first phase of elections happened here, and, according to all reports, the voter turnout was pretty bad in Bangalore Urban; around the 44% mark apparently. Possible reasons for this, according to the media:

General apathy
No clear front-runner

and so on.
And ya, there were a lot more reasons that have been listed across all channels.

Among the numerous election ads on the radios, the one that grabbed my attention was this: “Vote now. Else, shut up for the next 5 years!” Obviously, a very impressive attempt at guilt-tripping the voters.

But still, I felt somewhat hollow when I heard this. The hollowness persisted even after reading about the abysmal turnouts. I was confused … because, I should have been angry. But nope, I just couldn’t muster up any sort of rage against this apathy. So, I began to wonder why.

And just like all always, my thoughts went in all sorts of directions, and what is being written here is one such thread of rambling.

“Shut up for the next 5 years!” “Shut up …”! Hmm … the point here is simple. The next time you complain about the government, remember that YOU had a hand in picking it, and hence, if you abstained then, you have no ground to stand on now. Fair enough.

But, is the government really the only entity that is at fault?
(Oh, before that, that there is something “at fault” in our city, state, country, etc. is beyond doubt. But, for the sake of my lack of knowledge, I shall just stick to Bangalore and its problems for now.)

On a tangent, the Bangalore Police has this hoarding saying, “Are you a driver who follows the rules? Are you a Smiling Driver?” And whenever I see that, I want to scream, “Not at all!!! I follow every bloody rule! And the only thing that gives me is a stressful life! No smiles. No nothing!” The rage that I am engulfed in when I am on the road is slowly reaching levels that I am not sure I can get rid off.

And this is the rage that I was hoping would hit me earlier. But, the realisation that I have come to accept is this – it doesn’t matter one bit who our leaders are. As long as we, as citizens, do not perform the simplest of tasks, there is nothing that any supreme power can do to save us.

And, the scary part of the current scenario where people want to do things just to accelerate their progress in life/traffic/career/etc. is that no one seems to feel the guilt. A simple case in point: The other day, at the Sankaralinga Pandian Hotel signal, it’s red. Of course, vehicles from my side continue to ignore it as there is no vehicle “using” the rightful green. But then comes this Activa who has take a right-turn and rightfully, but no one stops. Finally, running out of patience, he just pushes his bike into the path of an incoming auto. And, what does the auto-driver do? Gets out and shouts at the Activa driver! After that incident, even “sheepish guilty” would be an acceptable option to me … but I didn’t see it then, and don’t see it in the future.

And so, that’s where I stand. My rage for people’s apathy to the government is negligible. My rage for people’s apathy to people is at a scary level. And I am fine with that … completely at peace with my rage.

After having spent years controlling the rage, I’m fed up, and have finally (and inevitably, I should add) reached the stage where I need to vent it out as and when it bubbles out.

God again ...

2008-04-22T05:42:00.000-07:00

After this and this, it was yet another opportunity to watch/hear God live at Chennai last Sunday.

And what an evening it was!!

When the audio of Guru released, the one moment in the whole album that would melt me, and even now melts me, was the MOMENT when God reaches for the heavens (ironic eh?) with His trademark high-pitch of Jaage hain … And to witness that as the first act of the evening was immense!

One distinct feature of this concert was the way the artists played with us. There would be the rapid strumming of an electric guitar, or the resonating aalaap, and out of this fog would emerge the burst of genius … and recognition.

Karthik with Girlfriend venum, Nithyashree Mahadevan with Kannodu kaanbadhellam had done their duty of keeping us tantalized before taking us in the exuberant musical ride. But none played with us more than the great Hariharan.

He comes up to the crowd, and asks us to sing after him.
Sasa riri
Gaga mapa
Mama dhini
…
…
sasa riri gaga mapa mapa …
…
…
Ay hairath-e-aashiqui!

But the highlight of the evening was God’s Khwaja mere khwaja! With Jaaved Ali and Aslam accompanying Him, this was something that can never be described in words. The fervour, the zeal that seemed to envelop all of us … sigh! Words fail me. Tears and goosebumps. Out of this world.

Thank you God … once again!

So ...

2007-10-21T21:24:00.000-07:00

Well ya, it’s been quite a long time.

So many things have happened since the last post. So many changes.

But, I guess, it’s all in the game called life.

In chronological order (after the frenetic March Madness),
Chakku – Anu got “formalised”.
I got engaged.
Akshai – Pavithra got married.
Vikram got engaged.
Avi got engaged.
Pramod got tagged.
Bandhar got tagged.
Vikram – Namratha got married.

So, that’s where we are right now. A week after the Vikram – Namratha wedding, and two days before Anitha – Chilli. :)

Anyway, I shall try to be more regular here. Or maybe, I need to get this new address - http://mymaritalwoes.blogspot.com/. :P

This is ...

2007-03-29T21:05:00.000-07:00

MARCH MADNESS!!

PS1: I am not talking about this March Madness.
PS2: The park bench cries get louder as yet another one bites the dust.
PS3: I am still sitting firmly on the bench ... so all those people eager to call from the US can hold their horses.

"Getting off the park bench"

2007-03-09T15:07:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time. Not many things have changed since. Yes, I have changed. But not too many things apart from that.

Three weeks back, the Devil sent a mail on a certain person "getting off the park bench". It brought back a lot of memories.

What is the park bench?
Ages ago, when on one of those meaningless walks and talks, we guys envisioned this scenario: 20 years in the future, we would still be doing the same meaningless walks and talks, and end up relaxing in the park bench in front of my house. Of course, it went without saying that we wouldn't let any distractions hinder us.

Now, we need to see how that plays out.

2007. This seems to be a year fraught with changes. Lots of them.

I decided to change as well. Why? Hmm ... probably because I can change. But primarily because I want to change.

"Hard-working" is never something that people would associate with me. Heck ... there have been times I have prided on my laziness. And so ... I am trying to change that.

In the past two months, I have worked less than 12 hours on just two occassions. My dad thinks I have a fever. Of course, he should know best. If there's anyone I have disappointed the most with my laziness, it's him. So trying to see him mask his surprise when he sees me wake up at 6:30 everyday, and leave for work ... that's something I enjoy. I can almost see him trying to control himself, lest he jinxes it. :)

If you were thinking this was my long-winded way of rendering an apology for not being frequent, you are wrong. I never use excuses. I never blame time. And if I ever blame anyone, it's only me.

My priorities haven't changed. I am not someone who is going to devote his entire life to his career. Family, friends, work, school, etc. All are equally important. So I realised that the easiest way to maintain this balance perfectly was to drop my laziness.

So ya ... I have changed.

What else has changed in the world? Lots of things. Here are some news items happening around me from the past few months, in no particular order (on second thoughts, let me make it alphabetical order. :P) :
Climb
Disappointed
Engaged
Let down
Misunderstood
Moving out
New revelations
People close to beginning their MBA
People finishing their MBA
Pokkiri pongal :)
Tagged
Taking initiative
To-be-married

So, that covers most things. I hope to also be a bit more regular here. I have an idea for what I want to write next. It's been pending for quite a long time. If tomorrow goes well, I should be in an even better mood. So wait and watch.

And ya ... "Mujeek ij in my veinj". :)

“Maaya” Kannan

2006-11-30T10:43:00.000-08:00

Around six months back, I had the opportunity of meeting Kannan, a student of the RT Nagar Tamil School. The occasion was the Lucent Day at the school. By the end of the day, I realised that it wasn’t just an opportunity…in fact, it was an honour to have met him.

I am sure there are countless stories of him that the volunteers at his schools would have, but for me, just a single day’s interaction gave immense insights into various aspects of him. It was a truly amazing experience…and here I try to recount a few of the multiple facets he possesses.

The first thing that struck me was the ease with which he ragged people. They could be his teachers, his fellow students, volunteers, chief guests…it didn’t matter to him. If he found something funny about them, he would go ahead and crack a comment right away. And this was done, not because of a lack of respect, or any malice…it was just the way he enjoyed his life, the way he perceived everything as something that would bring a smile to him, make him happy.

Then came an exhibition of his helping nature. The chairs had to be arranged…call Kannan. The stage had to be set…call Kannan. The shamiana had to be dismantled…call Kannan. School wasn’t just a place for him to study, play and leave. He took part in all the activities, and helped arrange everything. He helped people out of his own free will. In many ways, it was a double gift. Not only does the person being helped get the benefit of Kannan’s hard-working nature, he also gets to listen to some of the wittiest comments.

If the above qualities somehow gave the impression of Kannan being someone not that interested in studies, one couldn’t be far off from the truth. Instead of talking about his academic records, marks in exams, etc. I think this small incident should be enough to let you know how seriously he takes his studies:
All the students who had attended the function that day were given a gift. The gift was two huge slabs of chocolates, something that would have most boys his age very happy. But he turned to me and said, “idhikku badhila oru geometry box kuduthirndha evlo nalla irundhirikkum!” (Instead of these (chocolates), if you had given us a geometry box it would have been so nice!)
Speechless!

In between, there was the charming bit of innocence, when he was hesitant to pose for a photograph as he felt his “aayisu koranjidum” (his life would reduce). But his eagerness and enthusiasm for all things won over, and he came to us at the end of the day, requesting for a photo of his to be taken. He also wanted it delivered to him in a week’s time…which was duly done, and a geometry box was also given to him for good measure.

And finally to yet another feather in his cap. He was telling us about how he had played kho-kho at the district level, how he worked on his muscles, how he practised a lot on his running…and the fruits of all that labour has finally arrived in him being selected for the State level 400m sprint! Here is My3’s mail on this:

Kannan (std 7th RT Nagar Tamil school) qualifies for STATE level
400m run !!

Anyone who has ever visited the RT Nagar Tamil school could not have
missed this kid. An enthusiastic youngster - " School Headboy"
welcomes you with a broad smile and stick in hand (which he claims
he does not use for hitting, only pretending to hit:-) ) Catch him
working confidently on the computer (thanks to Sunand & Thiru),
making ppts and docs. Speaks some English, always keen on learning
more. Entrust a responsibility to him and he is sure to deliver.
With this all-round talent, he certainly has the potential to go
well ahead in life!

He won the block level, taluk and district level 400 metres and will
now compete at the Karnataka level. He gets Rs 5000, complete sports
gear and training for a week from the State Athletic coaches.

All of us at DSF wish him all the best for this race and hope he
also does equally well in the long and gruelling race of life! And
maybe here, we have a role to play, to ensure such kids do not fall
back in the race of life!

I think I need to re-emphasise this – it truly is an honour to have such a kid amongst us. Let’s wish the best in life for him.

He is truly set to achieve magical heights. All the best “Maaya” Kannan!

(posted at DSF blog as well)

2006-10-26T00:06:00.000-07:00

Buddha has smiled

Bhoomi poojai pottaachu

Bhoomi pooja haakkaithu

or...

It's the same thing, Mr. Sivam!

2006-10-12T11:02:00.000-07:00

I am holding the flag high.
So is he.
So is he.

Madras Eye

2006-09-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

Yes...that was one of the many reasons that I have been away from this blog. I had acute conjunctivitis last week, which helped me get an entire day of sleep.

Sleep has become a rare commodity for me. Not because I am working too hard. I am not.

Yes, I work till 8. And then almost every other day go for a movie with my friends or parents. In the last 12 days or so, I have seen 5 movies. And I am getting ready to see my 6th movie in a few hours.

So, that’s how my typical day looks like.
Office -> Movie -> Half-sleep

On the days, when I don’t go for a movie,
Office -> Half-sleep

Since sleep is anyway so damn tough...I decided to put my time to better use.

I really relished the sleep during that one day of madras eye. I only wish it happens more often...sleep I mean.

Someone asked me why it was called “madras eye”. And the only explanation I had for that was: “I don’t know...but I can tell you this...the only other time I got a madras eye...I was actually in Madras”. I am not implying anything here...but you are free to. :)

Actually the previous time was a funny experience.

Everyone in the house contracted it. It started off with my mom, spread to my aunt, uncle, sis, dad...I was the last man standing. We had just one pair of goggles in our house. After the 5 of them had the infection, we decided that I should be the one wearing the goggles. Made sense right? So it was a nice sight...for a few hours. The entire home had 5 people roaming around with red eyes, while I went around sporting those huge goggles that were worn by Tamil heroines of the past. Actually I think I have seen Shivaji wear it in a few of his bad colour movies.

Anyway, the point is that the brilliant ploy didn’t work. Probably the goggles itself had gotten infected.

I remember that moment actually when I begin to feel that itch in my eye. I went to the room where the temporary medical ward was, where the entire family was dropping liquids in gay abandon...threw away my glasses ala Super Star...and announced proudly, “Me too!”. I think my mom might have had tears of joy in seeing her prodigal son come back to her. Or it was just tears from a sore eye.

It felt so nice to not be an outcast. :P

No such heroic tales this time. No scope for style.

The only heroic tale that has happened since the last time I blogged was how I saw Vadivelu’s Imsai Arasan 23am Pulikesi.

I would have liked that to be a post by itself...but haven’t been able to get into the mood to do that.

Here’s the gist:
Movie banned in Karnataka
Drove to Krishnagiri (100 kms from my house) and saw it
Hijacked an unsuspecting Achuth & Vikram (who thought we were going to Hosur)
Partner in crime was Other
Great cups of tea
Googled using GPRS to find out tourist attractions in Krishnagiri
Movie :)

Yaar ange!

I am off.

Climbing up Tirupathi

2006-08-01T23:44:00.000-07:00

Avi & I went for a real quick trip to Tirupathi last weekend, did a quick climb, and got back. That has got me thinking about my favourite climbs.

• My first “non-climb”. I was of the opinion that people who climbed up the hill would walk along the road...and for some reason wasn’t really keen on doing that. So I took the bus, and mid-way I saw my grandmother coming up using the steps. I was hooked...and since then, I have almost always avoided the bus, and climbed on foot.

• A very special one. Maybe 6 years or so back, my mom, my sis and I were doing the climb...when my sis’ wheezing problem became unbearable. She would have to stop every few yards. After a certain point, the need to stop became more psychological, rather than just due to physical fatigue. So I put my arms around her shoulder, and walked her all the way. I blabbered my usual nonsense all the way...and she forgot about her wheezing. I even tried to teach her Kannada during a particular stretch, and her “yennada idhu...anyaayam...tamizhle ‘maram’, kannadathle ‘mara’...romba easy-a irukke!...” still makes me smile. It was very nice...definitely the best climb.

• Contest...kind of. Three years back, my mom, the baby she is, got this idea in her head to see who could climb the fastest. Apparently, on all the previous occasions, she was being held up by the slower ones. :P
So it was just me and my mom; to each his own. And the result was the same.
The first thing she tells me after reaching 45 minutes after I had was, “Chey...I was stupid in not wearing slippers. That’s why I was so slow...it was my mistake”. I just said “ya ya” and hugged her. She really is a baby. :)

• Lives up to the pre-climb hype. Four months or so back, we were all subjected to an exhibition of Avi’s fabled stamina. A stamina that had Puneeth Rajkumar as one of its admirers. :)
He climbed up the entire hill without a break, with a cut toe...in 2 hours! Absolutely stunning! To put that in perspective, a lot of people take 2 hours to just complete the Gali Gopuram part (undoubtedly the toughest leg of the climb).

• The Guys! Two weeks after the previous climb. This time it was with Bandhar, Chakku, Paddu, Vikram. It was a slow climb. We lost Bandhar midway (obviously!), we made enquiries, we were planning on announcing through the temple loudspeakers...but thankfully he had already reached the top.
The climb, the waiting in the queue...the whole thing was a nice experience. A lot of hopes, a lot of aspirations then...some of them dashed now.
Chakku & Vikram had a good time ragging me...though I am happy in a weird way that they can’t do it anymore. Or I don’t know...am I really happy about that?

• Finally...last Saturday. Avi & I left Bangalore at 12:30 in the night, drove fast, overtook all vehicles, before sleep overtook us. Slept by the road, and then back on track. Avi reached the top in 2 hours (without a break...duh!), and me, 10 minutes later.
Had a lot of profound conversations to ward off sleep. And obviously did the usual lamenting.

So these have been some of the more memorable ones.
It’s not only about the god. It’s not only about the temple.
It’s about the experience...and you don’t have to be necessarily a theist to enjoy it.

2006-07-13T22:00:00.000-07:00

I am thinking
whether this should be funny or not.

I said
is a line that complicates the tense of this entire post. So I shall skip it.

I want
sound sleep.

I wish
for contentment.

I miss
Rajjo, pre-2002, my grandparents

I hear
“jakkamma jakkamma” on my comp speakers.

I wonder
a lot about a lot of things, thanks to my complicated nature.

I regret
being so lazy.

I am
so lazy.

I dance
only to Tamil ganaas. (and occasionally at Punjabi weddings. I hope the Devil is listening. :P)

I sing
a lot. And I am very bad at it.

I cry
on those rare moments

I am not
a fan of F-1.

I write
very less nowadays.

I confuse
people with my warped sense of logic. (apparently)

I need
to do something worthwhile in life.

I should
stop answering similar questions!!!

I finish
my coffee last.

And now I pass this tag on to:
Avi
Abhi
Other
DD
f@rt
Vishy

Sporting Year

2006-07-03T00:09:00.000-07:00

It’s been that kind of a year. A horrible horrible sporting year for me.

It started off with the Detroit Pistons losing in the conference finals.
That hurt a lot. They had played some of the best basketball in the regular season, notched up the league best record, were at one point of time threatening to challenge the Bulls’ Jordan-era wins record, grabbed home court throughout the playoffs...and lost to the Miami Heat.
Hurt a lot.

My quote then to the Devil (whose Lakers had already been eliminated), and who knows a thing or two about bad sporting years for quite some time now, had been “I am looking at the silver lining now. This loss only means that something even more special is going to happen. Argentina is definitely going to win the World Cup.”

And Friday happened.

More hurt. I won’t get to the details. Hurts even more.

And I, with my ever-ready declarative mouth, said, “It’s been really really bad this year. But there is only one person who always sees to it that my sporting year is never an abject failure. Never ever lets me down...”

Rahul Dravid.

The smile is back. Kind of.

The Hindu’s report on the match today begins like this,
If there were any doubts about Rahul Dravid being his country's greatest ever Test batsman, he dispelled them in the fourth Test here.

Man of the Match.
Man of the Series.
Captain of a team to win in the Windies after 35 years.

Enough said.
Or is it?

I promise to make no more comparisons to the “other” player. I have just turned a corner...along with Dravid.

It would be a gross injustice to even go down that lane.
I mean...what was I thinking...with all those mail-wars in Infy, or the “comparison post”! Can those “supporters” even begin to write a line in their defense?
Why couldn’t I have just waited, and let Dravid do the talking?

Chris Gayle, in his column in today’s TOI, narrates this incident. The gist is this –
Apparently he asked Dravid how he managed to concentrate so hard, and remain so focussed. To which Dravid’s reply was, “I am not like you. I have to work very hard for every run. I can’t score boundaries like the others...”

Brilliant.

L Sivaramakrishnan’s quote: “It seems like there are two pitches. One, when Dravid is batting. The other, when the remaining players are batting...”

Why couldn’t I have just waited, and let Dravid do the talking?
Hmm...that’s a tough question.
Probably all the anger at the ignorance of the others.

But that anger has been replaced by pity. A lot of pity actually.

So, as I said, the smile is back.

Thanks dude!

:-)

Navrang UTSAH

2006-06-25T10:05:00.000-07:00

The DSF conducted an ice-breaker session at the Rajajinagar 2nd block (Navrang) school this Saturday, the 24th of June.

Volunteers had turned up at the school from different parts of Bangalore –
Ashwini, Avinash, Nisha, Pacchi, Pavithra, Sowmya, Thiru, Vikram and me.

We had noticed a couple of things concerning this school in our previous two visits.
One was that the Head Master was quite open to our involvement, and assured us that the kids and the teachers would co-operate with us in anything we planned.
And the other more significant point was the behaviour of the kids. Discipline, which is an almost alien concept to the kids at the Malleswaram school, seemed to be in plenty among the Navrang school kids.

Both these factors aided us in spending some fun time with the kids, and possibly laid the foundation for sustained involvement.

The school has a skewed class strength – 60% of the 110 kids belonging to 6th & 7th, with 1st to 5th making up the remaining. We decided to split them into groups along this parameter.

We played Pass the Parcel with the bigger kids, the box containing the chits of actions provided to us by Megha. Barring a few shy kids, most were quite enthusiastic to come forward and perform the act. In fact, for every activity, there were always a bunch of extra volunteers.

Ashwini, Pavithra and Sowmya took the smaller kids under their control, and conducted their games. The highlight of this was the running race where chota Chethan, despite facing senior competition, hung on to complete the race. Here is that kid…

A lot of kids asked us whether we would be coming every week.
Hope that their enthusiasm continues to remain unabated, and we can make a difference in their lives with the co-operation of the teachers.

Thanks to all those who could make it, and the others like Pooja who helped us with the ideas behind the games.

(Posted at the DreamSchool Forum as well...)

2006-06-18T04:06:00.000-07:00

I finally have the time to sit in leisure, in front of my computer, in eager anticipation of the words to come flowing out of my horribly cluttered and miserably distracted mind. And…nothing. Absolutely nothing.

So now what?
Do I just hit Publish and move on?
Do I rack my brain hard and get some words to fall out…albeit incongruous?

Laughter is the best medicine. Time heals everything.
And I find myself immune to both these possible panaceas.

Not completely immune…I must add. Laughter has been able to get through my defenses in the last month and a half. Occassionally. Thanks to my friends. So as I said…not completely immune.

On the other hand…Time…aw! It’s all one cruel joke. Time does heal everything…but…that is only if one is capable of forgetting. And with my curse of memory, I can only sit and watch time pass by, failing in its attempt to erode that wretched part of my brain.

Just read this in Other’s blog:

Read this sms the other day...

"Life has sucked enough for me to know the worth of a friend"

Hmm... life is probably worth the trouble for those choice moments.

The last line makes so much sense.
In our selfish world, happiness breeds happiness…yes. But sorrow? More often than not, it just breeds solitude. Unless of course you have the people around you for those “choice moments”. That’s when life doesn’t seem so futile.

Women are weird.
Men are arrogant.
Some people are arrogant.
Others are manipulative.
Still others (a select few) are both arrogant and manipulative.
Men are immature.
Women are immature.
People are such babies.
…
…

That’s quite a complex vortex of thoughts we people of the world are living in.

“It’s not an idealistic world.”
The above line was told to me by a close friend. He had heard it from another friend of his. A part of me wants to just let that pass and say, “to each his own…maybe the world is screwed up after all”. And a louder part of me wants to say, “that’s a very nice way of assuaging one’s guilt. Do something wrong…and blame the world for it. Nice going!”

Not everyone gets what they want.
So? Does that stop people from trying? If the world really was filled with people who stopped after the first attempt, we wouldn’t be anywhere close to where we are right now.

Where are we though?
In a bad state.
People are either selfish or shallow or sad. Or all the three. Or any two of the three.

That’s the world in a nutshell. Quite a comforting thought, eh?

2006-06-01T07:35:00.000-07:00

I have been working.
A lot.

I never thought I would ever be saying/writing those words. But I just did.

In the few hours that I am a bit free to think...it's been on
Shirts-
Our pal Premo has quite a huge collection of metrosexual shirts/kurtas/kurtis/kurtus and what not. So we decided to gift him some more of those for his birthday. One of those shirts has a faded left arm, and a bright right arm. Quite fascinating.

On the other end of the wardrobe spectrum is me. I have just 4 shirts that I have been recycling for the last 2 years. In fact, if you look at the last few photos on Monkeys Dancing, I would be wearing the same thing...on different days.

All that I want is one shirt...or rather...10 copies of the same shirt...and I would be contented for the next few years.

Was it Shakespeare who said "Clothes make a man"? Hmm...I guess he was wrong.
Or even if he was right, I am just proving that I am the same person throughout the year by wearing the same thing.

Gifts-
Hmm...
Hmm...

Yup...that's all I think about gifts. I am bad at choosing them. I generally consider them a big pain. I stay out of most of the gift choosing decision making discussions.

Unless of course, 10 copies of the same shirt is a good gift. In that case, I make my choice public. Henceforth, I shall only suggest that.

Thakadhimithom-
A Telugu song. I can drive people to their graves with my incessant okatoudham okatoudham chants!

Singing & Whistling-
I suck at the former, and am quite good at the latter. And I mean the "non-lecherous" kind.
And there are others who are very good at the former
(and prefer the compliments to be withheld)

Secrets-
Apparently I am quite good at keeping them. Hmm...I hope so.

And finally, I am having a lot of fun-F1 debates. Just wish Rajjo was there with me as well. Sigh...

To sign off...okatoudham okatoudham okatoudham okatoudham okatoudham okatoudham.

How do you sleep?

2006-05-08T22:44:00.000-07:00

Given my exemplary history of laziness, one would think that falling asleep shouldn't be too tough a task for me. Unfortunately that has never been the case.

In my 26 years of existence, I still haven't mastered the art of falling asleep. I am not talking about dozing off in class rooms or cubicles. Those are involuntary actions. But just lying down, and...poof...falling asleep? Beyond me. Totally.

I also have a problem of getting up. Actually waking up is also a problem, but since the "getting up" is more arduous, I tend to ignore the "waking up" part. But I have come up with some sort of a solution to this. And snoozing the alarm clock isn't it. One needs to hear the alarm ring to actually press the god-sent snooze button. My sleep is too sound for sound to get through.

I have 5 alarms set. It is just a matter of sheer luck that the 5th one is the waking one. The first four just provide the build-up. I might hear them, I might register them, but I dont register them for what they actually are. Let me give you an example. It happened just this morning...

My 6:30 alarm is the initial 20 seconds of the Tamizha Tamizha song. And so I hear it in my sleep. I realise that I am dreaming. I wait with immense expectation for Hariharan's voice...and...nothing! The music repeats itself. This time I think about the backdrop against which Rahman initially composed this song (the Cauvery riots), and wait expectantly...and...nothing! That's when it hits me that the music isn't in my head, but it's the damn alarm!

Yup...that's how bad I am.

But getting back to sleeping.

I know of people who just need to put their head on the pillow, and they are flat out gone.

I know of others who just need the driver of the bus/car to switch on the ignition, and they are snoring by the time the gears have fallen.

And then there is me.

I close my eyes. And then begin thinking. Incoherent rambling. Something like my blog.

Every 10 minutes I force myself to fall asleep, and end up thinking even more of unconnected things. It eventually takes almost an hour or so before I think I stop thinking.

(Of course there could be occassions when I could be up the entire night...but those stories are for a different day, different audience)

I envy all the people for whom sleep is not an effort. And I just wish it were the same for me as well...sigh.

Initial few days' impressions

2006-05-03T03:03:00.000-07:00

Our office has quite a few pedestal fans along the sides. And my first achievement in my new workplace was to synchronise the two fans beside me to always keep one side of me breezy.

***

The computer that has been allotted to me right now doesn't have Word or Excel or Powerpoint functioning properly. God's sign couldn't be more obvious.

***

Giving free food to me is a big mistake. Especially when the food is good.

***

I was mistaken about the size of the company. The total number included the cleaning staff, accounts guy, and the security.

***

I am going to be squeezed dry. I am looking forward to it.

Friend...

2006-04-19T00:45:00.000-07:00

I do not believe in Winamp shuffling. As in, I believe that it happens. But I don’t believe in using it.

I keep a prepared list of songs in the morning. I open my Winamp, rearrange the playlist in that order, and listen away.
(The rearrangement was during my Infy days. Now, with the latest Winamp, it is just Q, Q, Q all the songs)

But there would be phases when I listen to the same set of songs in the same order. And the current phase has me starting the day with this song – Oru Nanbanirundhaal.

Movie: Enakku 20 Unakku 18
MD: God
Singers: S.P.B.Charan, Venkat Prabhu, Chinmayi

Now why do I keep coming back to this song?

Last Friday, Chakku left Bangalore to do his management degree. And that has left quite a void.

We already have one person safely tucked away in the US. (Oh a special thanks to that person for his call today. Was great to talk to you. And yes, you do have an accent!) With Chakku also missing, suddenly the numbers seem too small.

I miss the PDC (post-dinner coffee) sessions at Friend’s. (Well, the actual name of the place is Sangeetha Condiments…but Kaushik & I call it Friend’s…and that has stuck)

I miss the Java City (Lavelle Road) sessions. There was a period when Chakku, Kaushik, Bandhar & me went to that place for almost 7 days consecutively. And did a lot of voice-over for the couples. (“Ok…let’s go now. Wait. I need to touch my nose. Ok fine…let’s enter now…)

There are a million other things that we monkeys are going to miss.

The song that I wrote about in the beginning of this post has the following lines:
indha kaadhal kooda vaazhkkaiyil azhagilae thoandrumae
thoazhan endra sondham ondru thoandrum namadhu uyiroadu

Roughly translated to:
Even this love…in life…arises out of beauty.
But the bond of friendship arises out of our lives.

Very true.
To me, a true friend needn’t be someone who is there with you at your moments of joy. You always have people for that. But, a true friend is one who would be there for you at your lowest moment. No matter what. And Chakku is precisely that…a true friend.

Here’s wishing him a great management career.

PS: On a slightly cryptic note…Reinstated!

2006-04-11T12:11:00.000-07:00

This was a post I had written a long time back. And an Aditya left me a comment on that around a month or so back. This was the comment –

Hi, I've been reading u r blog for quite some time now. I've enjoyed reading every one of them. Now that you've brought up the topic of doing what one loves to do, I would like to chip in.
I know of two people whom I've always admired. one guy was working in Infosys, B'lore and from the start knew that it was not his calling. He never gave up and after almost 3 yrs resigned from Infy and joined the Indian Armed Forces. In the exit interview, he was asked by what percentage was his salary going to be increased in his new appointment in the Navy and he said, -35%!
Screw the money :-) there are a hundred ways of making it.

It was the kind of comment that is freakish on many levels.
It mirrored my thoughts almost to the last dot.
It spoke about similar events happening around me.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I am quitting my job. As I write this post, I have my resignation letter typed out in Notepad, and by the end of this post, it would probably be on its way to my boss.

Most people knew my lack of interest in what I was doing. I was never meant to be an MBA. But that is all water under the bridge. I would be getting back to what I like best.

The company I would be joining is a very very small start-up.
With big aspirations. For them, and for myself.

I would like to thank everyone – my family, friends – who’ve been completely supportive of my decision. Thanks people!

Here is a part of a chat conversation I had with Varath after I got my job:
Varathkanth: hmm
oh imp qn..
how close is the office frm ur home?
me: 40 mins
btw, you have no idea how happy it made me feel when you said "imp qn", and spoke abt distance.
Varathkanth: heh.. quite gud
me: seriously nanri hai!!!
i was worried you were going to talk abt salary.
Varathkanth: dei
me: final details not known...but def pay-cut. :)
Varathkanth: naan avlo kevalam illeda
me: i know.
Varathkanth: i'd hv blasted u if u had cribbed abt ur pay cut

The “naan avlo kevalam illeda” really made my day. Nanri hai da.

Shabari Malai Trip

2006-03-23T22:49:00.000-08:00

Things happen for a reason.
Different things happen for different reasons.
These things are continued for different reasons.

And so it is regarding the Shabari Malai experience.

When Avi and I went last year, we had different reasons in mind. By different I mean that they were different from this year’s. But between us, the reasons were similar.

And now, it is something else that drives us both. And that is no expectations. It somehow helps the whole thing.

Ok…I am done being cryptic and here I go easy.

Avi and I decided to do the entire “Shabari Malai” seriously. We came up with a set of rules after sufficient research, conversations, discretion, and a bit of convenience as well. From our observations, around 90% of the pilgrims follow 10% of the rules. These are rules that we did our best to strictly adhere to:
1. Continence
2. No alcohol, no non-vegetarian food, no smoking
3. No onion, garlic, drum-stick, radish
4. No footwear
5. Sleeping on a mat. No pillow
6. No shaving. No hair-cuts
7. Bath twice a day

After 40 days of deeksha, we (Ganesh, Ganapathy, Niranjan, Avi & me) left for Shabari Malai on Friday night by the Kanyakumari Express. There are two stations where most pilgrims generally get down – Kottayam and Chenganur.

We got down at Chenganur at 12:39 PM, a delay of one hour, and were heading to catch a bus, when we were swarmed by taxi-drivers. The fare ranged from 1800 to 2000 bucks for a to & fro journey. But there was one benevolent soul who agreed to drop us at Pampa for just 500 bucks…with just one hitch; he was drunk. Avi vehemently refused to get into the vehicle if it was the drunk who was doing the driving. I didn’t have a problem, as I was of the opinion that the man generally spoke in a slurred manner, and walked a bit clumsily. I didn’t want to get too judgmental.

So, he made us wait under a shop, and realized that jeep had already left. So he tells us, “Don’t worry. Only 2000 rupees. I will get you a Tavera. Get into it. Ok?”, before we could object. So we just walked back to the bus-stand, and surprise surprise, he was waiting there asking us to get into a bus. Apparently the bus went to a place called Pathanamthitta, and from there plenty of buses plied to Pampa.

So, the drunkard did his job. In a way. He even closed the door of the bus for us. Very kind of him. From a jeep to a Tavera to a bus, he had shown us all avenues. Very versatile indeed.

We got down at Pathanamthitta, which is around 29 kms from Chenganur, and walked to the KSRTC bus-stand. That was when we faced a problem that kept recurring. With no footwear, and hot tar roads, our soles were literally baked. For me, it was almost walking on the sands of Devbagh beach once again. We braved that and managed to get into the Pampa bus.

Now, the river Pampa, I’ve been told, is very dirty during the peak season. But in March, it was quite clean. Atleast, as clean as a river where 1000s bathe can be.

We finished our quick dip, put the irumudi on our heads and began the climb up the hills. Now, a special mention on how the hills are.
People who’ve climbed up Tirupathi would know that there are steps well laid-out. There are a lot of lights along the way, and other basic amenities. Shabari Malai is quite the opposite.

The climb up is basically stones and gravel. You have a few steps, and these are made of cement and more stones. You then have a few more steps made of very big stones, and quite slippery, and very definitely do not qualify to be called a step. After the first half of steep climbs, comes the trek through a forest. Again, with stones and mud. Only difference is that the stones are sharper now.

I mention all this in a bit of unwanted detail only to emphasise the importance of the 40 days of austerities. Walking barefoot for those 40 days, as stupid or illogical as it may seem to a lot of people, goes a long way in hardening your soles. They are able to withstand more heat, more sharp stones with only the minimal registry of pain.

We reached the foot of the temple at 8:30 PM, and there in front of us were the hallowed 18 golden steps. Those who don’t have a maalai and irumudi aren’t allowed to climb up these steps; they have a side entrance.

The beauty of the temple lies in its simplicity. You climb up the 18 steps. And there is the God right in front of you. That simple. We finished the rituals and after a very good dinner (by Kerala standards) found a room to stay. I shall get to the food problem in a bit more detail later on.

The next morning, couple of the guys went for another darshan, and then we began our climb down. And people who think that climbing down is easy are mistaken. It is easier…yes. But definitely not painless or strenuous. As you come to the steep portions, your legs begin to shake and your calf muscles ache. That is, if you attempt to walk down. Instead, just run. And that’s what Ganesh and I did. We were lucky to not trip over a stone or some person. But those were risks worth taking.

We waited below sipping on some hot tea, as the others slowly came down. Avi, who climbed up the fastest (without a break), was incidentally the slowest to get down. And my case was the opposite.

Now about the food. Given the strict restrictions we followed, it was almost impossible to eat anything. Vada has onion. Sambhar has drum-stick, onion and garlic! And this plight continued even on top of the hill, which was quite strange. We managed to get a plate of meals, and I went for a cup of rasam and asked him, “I hope the rasam doesn’t have garlic”, to which he replied, “It is garlic rasam only!”. Sigh!

On the way back, we decided to go to a temple at Aranmula, which apparently gave some very good prasadam. This place was just 9 kms from Chenganur and on the way as well. We asked the guy at the temple what was the prasadam, and he said, “vella pongal”. So, we bought 5 plates of this, and it turned out to be plain boiled rice! We had also bought half a litre of paal-paayasam, which we mixed with the rice and ate. And that was the last solid stuff we ate for the next 15 hours.

Slept through most of the train journey, while all the other pilgrims around us enjoyed biriyanis, porottas, and what not. We had bread with milk at Palakkad, and that tasted like nectar to our starving stomachs.

Back in Bangalore on Monday morning, and went to the temple to get our maalais removed.

Thus ended another successful trip.
And back to…err…not that much of a difference actually. To modify Chandler’s quote, “my entire life is a Shabari Malai”.

:)

Books...

2006-03-14T23:40:00.000-08:00

Reading Stephen King's The Cell currently. Incredible writing once again. But what stands out more than that is his characterisation. And that includes people who just disappear in a flash as the story progresses.

For example, the protagonist chances upon this scene where the mother has killed her daughter. This is what King writes:

And had her mother stopped to consider before popping the gun from its clip between the TV and the can-opener, where it had been waiting who knew how long for a burglar or rapist to appear in this clean, well-lighted kitchen? Clay thought not. Clay thought there would have been no pause, that she would have wanted to catch up with her daughter's fleeting soul while the explanation for what she had done was still fresh on her lips.

Genius. We do not know the mother. We do not know the daughter. We know the reason for the killing. And with those last lines, you are exposed to an image of the final thoughts of the daughter (who gets killed), and the mother (who kills herself).

Every book has a mood. In the case of The Cell, it is almost a fatalistic view that SK seems to have taken. In a few ways, it is almost similar to his Black House (co-written by Peter Straub). BH dealt with a very common thread of thought running through all our minds, "things can go wrong...but never to me...it always happens to the others..." And here Cell speaks about what sets in once that wrong-that-can-never-happen-to-me actually does.

A totally different kind of mood can be seen in The Shining. The characters, their lives, dispositions, environment, etc goes steadily downhill. And the beauty of the whole book is the inevitability of this slide. You can pray all you want...but the brakes aren't going to work.

Speaking of downhill always brings to mind Rand al'Thor's character in Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series. You would have to wonder about his status as a hero...especially after all that RJ seems to be doing to him. I actually find a few similarities between Roland of SK's Dark Tower, and Rand. And after Knife of Dreams, the bond seems to be stronger.

Hmm...how cool would that be? Roland and Rand meeting each other in a story. SK intersected a lot of characters from a lot of his books in the Dark Tower. Ok...that's hoping for too much.

But what is not hoping for too much is a Dark Tower comic...coz that is going to happen soon...ok...2007! Marvel Comics & SK are working on it. Expected to be shipped in Feb 2007.

Ok, let me hold my horses and get back to The Cell.

Great sporting weekend

2006-03-13T21:56:00.000-08:00

South Africa whip the Aussies.
India completes the formalities against the Poms.

And...how can one ignore the best action of the weekend...a 11 second pit-stop!!! Gosh! Please control your excitement. They need to put a disclaimer at the bottom of the screen - Warning: This pit-stop shouln't be watched without the supervision of an elder. Highly dangerous!

That pit-stop, unfortunately, got relegated to the sidelines by this conversation at Coffee Day.
Ameya: You can change the tyres!
Me: Wow!!!
Kaushik: No...I mean...
Me: Wow!!!
Kaushik: Last year, you couldn't change the tyre's...err...what is that called da...
Me: You mean drivers could go with 3 tyres. Wouldnt that be an auto-rickshaw? Hey..."naan autokkaaran autokkaaran..."
Kaushik: No no!! A tyre's...
Me: material? It can be glass or paper or thermocol?
Kaushik: Aaargh...no da. You can change the tyre's...
Me: colour? Has to be the colour.
Kaushik: No! I got it. If you choose dry tyres, you can't then change them to wet tyres even if it begins to rain.
Me: Hmm...but dont my tyres automatically change from dry to wet when it rains. I mean...all objects do...seems a bit strange. Oh ok...the tyres are hydrophobes?
Kaushik: No da...the grip. The grip. You can't change the grip. Or rather...you couldn't. Now you can.
Me: Ohhhhhh...
(silence)
Me again: But seriously think about it. Different coloured tyres? How cool would that look! You could entice the circus-goers as well...ok...that is too high a goal.

Bloody Bagreen!

Initial thoughts on the Bagreen Grand Prix

2006-03-11T04:48:00.000-08:00

For all those F1 ignoramuses, the Formula-1 season begins at Bagreen this year. And it promises to be one heck of a joy ride…or drive as the more appropriate it may be.

This news item has quite a bit of snippets, and some more hidden lines, that I managed to unearth thanks to my perspicuity.

Look at the picture in the page. Obviously, the guy in red likes the blue guy more than the white guy. Is he suggesting anything here?
Could it be that Mr. Red is actually planning on switching his alliances to the Blue side. Strange you might think, but not if you consider this gem of a quote from Mr. Red:

Also, we all have team mates so it’s got to be a nice season for all of us.

Now…why on earth would someone mention this explicitly?
Does a soccer player say, “Also, we all have team mates so it’s got to be a great season!”? Obviously not.
Then why did our pal mention about having team mates?
Here’s my reasoning:
The intimate camaraderie with another driver (who wasn’t a team-mate) definitely implied what I doubted. So, to sidetrack the loyal fans (I think they are called toffees (Ravalgon?)), he decided to proclaim his loyalty. Fast one…but not fast enough for me.

Another person mentions his fetish for urine. Remember the late 1960s when they actually banned drivers from peeing into the fuel tank? Apparently that rule has been relaxed. Atleast that’s what I gathered from this dude’s quote:

but obviously this weekend I will have number one on my car so it’s dream come true and I will try my best again

He goes on to enlighten new fans like me with some breathtaking announcements. Sample this:

It will depend on how quick the car is

And here I was thinking the whole time about how the slowest guy would end up with the lungi cloth they wave to signify victory. Thanks for that pearl!

The season hasn’t even begun, and the excitement is already so palpable. That’s why they say, “There is no sport better than F1”.
(Actually the original quote was more along the lines of “There! F1 is no sport”. But all that is water under the bridge)

F1 Rocks!!!

Hated

2006-03-09T22:51:00.000-08:00

I have been targetted!
I have received hate scraps. (“hate” might be too strong a word here)

I shall get to the details, although I am a bit wary of being asked to “get a life”.
Sigh. Why do these things happen to me?

Anyway, here is what happened.

Ages ago, I started an orkut community on F1. It was called F1 Sucks. Now, please do not point out the obviousness of this name. At about the same time, Rajjo had written a post and a mail on the “greatness” of Formula 1.

CUT

Then I went ahead and wrote a post on the “joy” of F1 watching, after receiving a notification on some jerk winning title.

CUT

Double standards. Note to self: get a life!!!

CUT

Now to the present. Or rather, the recent pastish present.
A guy called Eternally (?) leaves this in my scrapbook:-
jus found ur community "F1 sucks"... u say u were a mclaren fan... too bad u think f1 sucks...its not a sham by the way... and u insult the drivers too... maybe u shud try driving 70 laps over a 5 km circuit at 325 kph...special effects it seems... ha! the only special effect that might happen is 'IF' mclaren wins a championship...screw u , ur community and the members in ur community...funny thing though is that u started the community in july last yr or 2004? after all this time u only hav 8 memebers including u in ur community...thats saaaad maaaan... ha ha

>> jus found ur community "F1 sucks"
I am not really that conversant with the SMS lingo, but pardon me if I ask a simple question. Isn’t “ur” short for “you are”? So that would mean I am a community. Or does he mean kamminaatti? I would go for the latter (for the uninformed, kamminaatti is a swear word in Tamil)

>> u say u were a mclaren fan
??? Now this was a surprise. Given the choice between being born again as a mclaren fan and a commode, I would opt for the latter. So how did Eternally come to this conclusion?
Upon further research, I realized what caused this – I had written, “If you think this is a group started by a vexed McLaren fan, you couldnt be further off from the truth.” Brilliant work Sherlock!

>>... and u insult the drivers too
Agreed. I think I would do that. Always. So our pal finally gets something right. Just had to give him some time.

>>... maybe u shud try driving 70 laps over a 5 km circuit at 325 kph
Is that some Maths problem for me to solve? Either way, the answer is Boredom! But yes, I shall listen to Eternally’s (ok I have to confess! I really enjoy using his name. His name is almost a vindication of all that is “great” about F1) advice and try doing that driving.

>>...screw u , ur community and the members in ur community
Redundancy galore. But isn’t that what F1 actually is? So, I shall let that pass…

>> funny thing though is that u started the community in july last yr or 2004?
Yup, that is funny. Frankly, I can’t see what tickled you Eternally. But, let me play along, and show some sensitivity to your fragile mental state.

>> thats saaaad maaaan... ha ha
You forgot a few more A’s in your “thats”. It should be “thaaaaaats saaaaaad maaaaaaaan”. Gives a better effect. Make that special effect.

Apart from this scrap, there is another person whose name is either Saad or Saab, who asks me to show some sportsmanship, and delete the community. I am perplexed. What does sports have to do with F1? Am I missing something here?

There are a few more posts in the community by a few anons requesting me to perform unnatural tasks (as Rajjo would have said). Quite spineless of them to not leave their names. But they are not F1-haters…so that explains…

But all this is history, albeit quite recent.

I have reformed.
I have lit the bulb.
I have got a life.

So, I shall now cover the upcoming F1 season assiduously. Expect a lot of inside information on each of the races, drivers, fuelboys, mechanics, etc in this blog. I initially decided to pick a favourite and look at things from his perspective, but that reduces the humour…I mean honour…quotient. So people…rejoice!

F1 Rocks!!!

(Do I need to add a :P to the mix? :P)

The T-Disc

2006-03-02T00:17:00.000-08:00

I have an idea.
(I know that sounds a bit grandiose along the lines of “I have a dream” by Martin Luther King (ahem ahem). But just humour me…)

I have been talking about this for ages now, and have never gotten down to actually penning it. So here I go.

I have never been to a disc…which is short for disco…which is short for discotheque. I wonder what they are going to call it next…anyway, that isn’t the point here. I have been to pubs, and I know that discotheques are going to be just an extension (literally from the couches to the dance floor). And that is where I freeze. Err…freeze isn’t exactly right. Let me use Stephen King’s “give the best imitation of a flower-pot”.

I presume there are a lot more like me. If not, this entire idea would be a major flop…but I don’t think that would be the case. And it is for such people, that I shall launch the…

*start of major background music similar to Rajini’s opening scene in Muthu*

The T-Disc

*end of major background music similar to Rajini’s opening scene in Muthu*

T-Disc? What it is?

If you are the kind who jump out of your seats to Appadi Podu, and not to Abba & Boney M…
If you are the kind who think that Dire Straits is what you tell your mechanic after your 2-wheeler takes a nasty fall…
If you are the kind who look at “headbanging” as something that people outside the Mariamman koil do during the “saami vandhirchu” times…
If you are the kind who can fold the tongue, glare angrily, make swishing noises…all at the same time…
If you are the kind who can’t determine the lyrics of English songs, and find it even harder to know when a new song starts, and the old one ends…

You would love The T-Disc!

This is the land of devastating dappangoothus
This is the land of galatta gaanas
This is the land of tumultuous tamil music

You educated dog, don’t come near!
Oops…that is not the motto of my T-Disc. It is just how the subtitling of the songs would look on the plasma screen.

A typical day at The T-Disc would resemble this:
Begin the rounds with a proper Naattu Sarakku, enjoy the AC’s cool Kaathaddikidhu Kaathaddikidhu. We also promote religious worship…so you could either go to Thirupathi Ezhumalai Venkatesa, or for the more austere Yappa yappa Ayyappa. The food menu, though it might seem to be leaning towards seafood with Uppu Karuvadu and Vaala Meenu, can always be digested with a Soda Bottle Kaiyile. We have some very exotic cocktails from Goa, and we decided to dedicate the place of origin in the nomenclature as well; you could try out a Podango…or a not so popular Gummango. People who feel that there would be a substantial lesser female population needn’t worry for too long. Vaadi Vaadi Vaadi would definitely bring in the crowd, and you can all peacefully Sight Adippom.

The Happy Hours would obviously be dedicated to playing songs of the one and only Super Star.

And more importantly, you would have never to face such situations –
Bouncer: Sir, you have to pay the cover charges.
Customer: cover-a? What cover??? Aavin or Arogya?
Bouncer: Not paal-cover sir. But…

Customer: Nonsense! T-Disc me going. Fun having. Varttaaaan…

All this and more…only at The T-Disc.
Coming soon…
……………….hopefully!

Vidai kodu engaL naade

2006-02-28T00:53:00.000-08:00

Vidai kodu engaL naadae, kadal vaasal theLLikkum veedae
panai mara kaadae, paravaigaL koodae marumurai orumurai paarpomaa

This is the song I have been listening to since morning. Infinite loop.

Movie: Kannathil Muthamittaal
Music: God
Singers: MSV, Balram, Manicka Vinayagam, Febi, Rehana
Lyrics: Vairamuthu

The backdrop for the song is this: bunch of people forced to vacate their homes. In the context of the movie, it refers to the Tamils leaving the war-afflicted portions of Lanka. Vairamuthu’s lines are packed with so much emotion…it’s hard to not feel the sting of tears.

udatiL puNNagai pudhaithom, uyirai udambuKul pudhaithom
verum koodugal mattum oorvalam poogindrom OaOa
We buried our smiles within our lips; we buried our lives within our bodies,
We are just skeletons going on a procession

Another brilliant line is this:
KaNNir thiraiyil pirandha maNNai kadaisiyaga paarkindrom
Through a veil of tears, we see our land of birth one last time…

That’s the beauty of film music. It gives you a million situations to compose music on. Unlike an album, such situations help in brining out the best of the composer. It’s one thing to think about writing a song for “people leaving their homeland”, and another to write one about “the girl goes in search of her real mother, and her parents accompany her to Lanka, and there just as she nears the town, sees the whole bunch of people leaving their homes…including possibly her mother who had left her…”

Rahman brings out the best of each of the five singers. They convey the sadness, angst, and anger brilliantly. Just as you hear the mother’s melancholy, comes the clincher at the 5-minute mark. I have never been able to express my reaction to that particular piece with any conviction. Words do not fail me. Words just seem…impotent.

Go listen.

"Ghana" Ulaganathan

2006-02-27T12:32:00.000-08:00

“Is that his country? Or genre?” was my first question when I read his name on the music credits in the album Chithiram Pesuthadi.

Listen to the beginning strains of Vaazha Meenu, and you know that he is indeed gaana Ulaganathan. And a very good gaana kalaignan at that!

I decided to do a bit more research on him, and realized that I had actually heard him sing the song Gummango in the album by Machi (music by A R Rehana…yup, God’s very own sister). If that song didn’t shoot him to fame, this song definitely will. It absolutely rocks.

A bit more on the singer (and lyricist) Ghana Ulaganathan, that I read in an article in Aa Vi:
· Sings/used to sing at marriages, death ceremonies
· Him and his cronies drink the whole night, interspersed with singing binges
· Hails from the slums of Vyasarpadi

He appears in the video of the song as well.

I really wish he sings a lot more songs, and he definitely seems to have the talent to be versatile. Let’s hope…

Devbagh: Trains, cabs & speedboats

2006-02-23T10:10:00.000-08:00

Not another AGGB.
That is how I would have liked to title the post on the Devbagh trip, but I like the current one better…

So, it was the 11 of us on towards the Jungle Lodges & Resorts at Devbagh in Karwar. The attendees were Achuth, Akshai, Ameya, Dhimant, Inder, Kaushik, Megha, Pavithra, Pramod, Vikram, me.

“Best” laid plans
Obviously these can falter. And that is precisely what happened…almost. I was stuck at a wedding 130 kms away from Bangalore; Kaushik was being held hostage by the Commissioner of Customs & Containers (another CCC). But thankfully we all managed to make it on time to catch the train…and shop on the way for volleyball, frisbee, cycle-rickshaw-wallah pants, etc.
(There is an interesting subplot to the Kaushik kidnap crisis. The exhortionists, apparently irked by a phone call made by Pramod at a very bad time, made the unusual demand of asking Kaushik to wear a sleeveless shirt during the trip. But Pramod decided to take it on himself, and paid the ransom. [video footage available at premium rates])

“Meditate, Ameya. Be at inner peace. Calm down.”
Once we had all managed to settled into our seats (or the floor, in my case), we were subjected to witness the inhuman provoking of Ameya by Megha. The only thing that could be deemed crueler and meaner than this was the middle finger shown by Pavithra to Inder…but that’s another story for another day. (Actually, it is no story. There was no reason…it was just normal girl weirdness in action. Simple. End of story)

But Ameya wasn’t flustered by all these buzzing gnats. He is made of sterner stuff. He held himself in check with his phenomenal repository of repartee – {“cheap shot!”, “shut up!”, “I do not get angry!”, }

Allegations on the Swamy! (gasp!)
I had to listen to rants on the hygiene (or lack of it) by walking around bare-foot in a railway station; to the farce and gross content being mouthed by Chakku & Kaushik; to the “huli will eat you up on the hills”. In typical style, I just swiped the allegations away in a single stroke. That’s another advantage of being a God…you always should have the last word. :P

Florence “Mary”amma
We had all slept after the enactment of Karna-Parashurama episode (which prompted Akshai to come up with Para-slipper-rama). But apparently throughout the night, Pavithra kept wanting to cover all of us with the hundreds of Bhavani blankets she had brought. In fact, she even asked Inder whether it would be ok if she went about covering the whole train so that no one felt cold. But sadly, she had forgotten to get her stuntman ropes to do that. And had to be bitterly contented.
Why did she want to do this in the first place? (refer to section on “normal girl weirdness”)

The Entry of R-A-J-N-E-E-S-H
There comes a moment in every trip when Rajjo makes his apperance. This time, though it wasn’t dramatic as his Mudumalai manic-charge, it was still endearing. After just having our resident astrologer Vikram flood our brains with his analysis on why the sun signs of two film stars match, we needed a break…and as we stopped…whom do we see? Rajjo in his resplendent glory!! We had our coffee-tea, while he had his milk. Hmm…actually he always has his milk, though the “has” holds a different connotation.

On the island
Just as we set foot on the hallowed shores, came, what was undoubtedly the worst joke of the trip from Kaushik – “Do not mock the ham!” – in a reference to the hammock. But those who did “mock the ham”, namely Pavithra, Megha & Akshai, found themselves biting the dust with no “help” whatsoever from the others. Reminds me of the old saying on girls and bungling clumsy idiots…wait a second…there is no such saying? There should be one, in that case. :P

We decided to play a quick game of frisbee-volleyball before lunch, and that turned out to be quite an intense affair…for the other team. Our team of Ameya, Dhimant, Kaushik, Megha, Pavithra & me won quite comfortably. And this, despite quite a few tricky hurdles such as the “conflict of interest” induced sabotage, and the constant modifications of the rules. Bandhar has threatened to break my arm if I wrote more about this humiliating debacle of theirs, and so I shall stop writing here…but…just one last word(s)…it sure was quite an astounding annihilation from our part, and quite a pathetic performance from Bandhar, Pramod, Akshai, Achuth & Vikram. ;-)

On the beach
Fun. Fatigue. Full stop.

Dhimant’s shark-boy impression.
Akshai’s Pakistan fielder “diving” impression.
Inder’s diving, and subsequently the frantic search for his lost spectacles.
Mud-slinging contest.
Water polo.
Water monkey.

536
That is the total number of sunset photos taken by xDrona, xArjuna & Megha.
Each.

Ok…I am kidding. It was in the thousands.
Each.

[Note: If ever anyone wants to know the tide level at 6:33 PM from 0 to 55 seconds, please look at these photos.]

Spotting the dolphins
I was under the impression that dolphins could jump upto a height of 20 feet. But here, they didn’t even top a tenth of that. Only later did someone explain that, the 20 feet is not above sea-level, but includes the height underwater from where they start the jump.
Weird animals!

But we did spot a lot of dolphins, and sea-gulls that we initially thought were superhuman (err…superanimal) dolphins jumping upto a 100 feet.

Wrapping up
I am sure there were tons of things that I’ve forgotten to jot down here. Off the top of my head, I can think of:
Betty Boop
Rowdy me
Millions of Akshai’s PJs (ok, here’s one of them: What do you call Bahubali if he is sent to outer space? Cometeshwara!)
…

Blame it on my tiredness. Blame it on my old age. Blame it on other things.

Thanks for the great time people! :)

“This is the way life is supposed to be…”

2006-02-05T10:20:00.000-08:00

I was going to do a review of Rang De Basanti. But I decided to see it once again, before coming up with the review. And after the second viewing last Wednesday, I was faced with a dilemma. I shall get to that in a moment.

Before that, this is how my thoughts were bouncing around, right after the first time I had seen it. “Hmm…not bad. Pretty ok movie. Maybe…just maybe, I had expected a bit too much…”

The following morning: “Holy Chandramouli!!! I definitely need to see it again. And this time, not just for the initial reason – God…” … “well…that too as well…”

Rahman’s music takes the movie to a whole new level. But surprisingly, that won’t be the point of today’s post. God being God…well you expect such things. (unless the director really manages to tank the good songs as in A Aa or MP)

After a lot of thinking to clear the dilemma (see…I did get to it, albeit not in a moment) regarding what RDB really stood for. On the surface level, it’s quite obvious – disinterested generation, forced to act up for the country. But, what really propels the entire thing…that interested me more. And, to me, therein lies the beauty of this film. The beauty of all the frames – the friendship.

The guys rose up simply because of something that happened to their friend. Period. Me being myself, I look selfishly into the friend part, (not ignoring the rest, mind you,) but just fascinated by the depiction of such pure friendship. And from there, I directly skip to the actual content of today’s post.

Four of us.
Four pairs of feet dangling out of my house’s balcony.
Four of us swaying our heads and feet to a combination of gaanas, patriotic songs and…hey saala…

There we were surveying the world beneath us. We had our worries. We have our worries. But we had each other as well. And suddenly, amidst the gloom there is more than a glimmer of light…roobarooo roshni…

That’s all it is. But we felt so much at peace. So much of joy. I guess that’s how mysterious friendship can be.

And for the four who were sitting on the balcony, for those two hours, definitely…
“this is the way life is supposed to be”

I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything else in this world.
A nice end to the whole day with a chat with Rajjo. Living miles away, he still wishes for us to think of him as being present in spirit. [Always dude! Absolutely always, and as I said, “…and no. I am not talking about a cow joke!”]

(Oh before I end this post, a small bit of news:
This is that time of the year again. Avi & me continuing a tradition we started last year. So, for the next 40 days, Swamy Sharanam)

Bannerghatta School Picnic

2006-01-31T10:00:00.000-08:00

My blogging cycle seems to be following some kind of a distribution (Chakku, could you please specify which? ;-)), and here I am once again after a brief hiatus.

Anyway, the past couple of weeks has been fun. A lot of fun. And today’s post would be dedicated to the best school picnic I’ve ever been to. Nope, this is not a nostalgia post.

The volunteers of the Dream School Foundation organized a trip for the kids of the Thiruvalluvar Government School, Malleswaram. There were 65 kids in total, from classes 3rd to 7th, and they were taken to the Bannerghatta National Park. Accompanying them were 5 teachers and the headmaster, and 11 volunteers. And me being one of them (the volunteers, that is) gave me the chance to enjoy a picnic like this after a long time.

Before I begin the narration on the picnic, these are what this particular set of DSF volunteers does:

conduct vocabulary sessions for the 3rd & 4th standard kids
helping them to get acquainted with a slightly advanced level of English before they formally face it as part of their curriculum
get them acquainted with words used in day-to-day life, and hence hopefully aid in sentence formation

(Oh, and then there is me, who, as all the other volunteers insinuate, cause the distractions in the class, and prevent the kids from being serious.)

The 11 of us who had volunteered (headed by Megha) were:
Achuth, Akshai, Ameya, Anu, Dhimant, Indrashis, Megha, Pavithra, Pooja, Vikram and me.

As a result of the many “not being serious” exercises with the kids, I came to know their musical tastes quite well, and took the job of the DJ, dishing out one gaana paattu after the other. :)
[Though most of the volunteers braved the music, there was one who decided to opt out of the musical extravaganza-filled bus during the return journey…and paid a good price in the other bus. :P]

The bus ride to the zoo was an eye-opener for me. Just the initial tinkling sound was enough for the kids to guess that the song being played was Appadi Podu, and up they went in unison! And what followed after that was pure mayhem…of the good kind.
Knowing the initial lines of all songs is great.
Knowing all the lines of all the songs is exemplary.
Knowing all the lines, and all background music of all the songs? No words to describe that!

The official requester of songs from the kids was Suresh (on whom I could write an entire post…one heck of a kid!), who forwarded his requests to “Pepsi Uma” Akshai, and I did the needful.

The bad conditions of the road led to a few…err…unpleasant incidents in the other bus. While the kids in our bus were quite oblivious to the road conditions, and enveloped by the incessant music being churned out. (thank to me! thanks to me! :)))

After reaching the park came the toughest part of our job - trying to hold all the kids together and prevent them from scampering away. And surprisingly the kids behaved quite well. Perhaps not so surprisingly actually. They were staring with rapt attention at all the animals and the birds. And in the few places where the creatures weren’t clearly visible (the goddamn snakes (!!!!), for example), one of us did a recon and managed to spot it for them.
[At this point, we were faced with a sudden crisis situation. Something that we hadnt’t prepared for; a few of our volunteers decided to turn into kids themselves, and encumber us even more. Inder did the job of goading this cattle…I mean these Kids (Pavithra & Anu)…both of whom, as Achuth said, sat down in most places to memorise the biological names of all the animals. :-)]

After a tiring tour of the zoo, the kids (and the Kids) all ended up relaxing at the playing area, while the guys went out to carry the food from the buses. Vikram, who had taken care of the food arrangements, also proved to be a master-thief by entering a locked bus through the window, and letting us all in. And then began the arduous task of carrying the huge barrels through uncertain terrain. All that hard work and effort prompted the highly chauvinistic “Women…now go serve the food!” from me, and won the approval of all the guys. ;-) (Before all the women’s lib (creatures ;-)) start baying for my blood, I would like to make it noted that the guys also helped in the serving.)

While the volunteers themselves had their food, it provided a lot of comic moments…like Dhimant’s photo-op joke, and Vikram’s bombshell on Ameya with his “Leos do not like Cancerians”. All that I could say is, “Dude…how can you say such a thing!!” :)))

And then we were on our way back; the other bus with the same “unpleasant incidents”, and Dhimant, again, showing everyone his workplace and the bus went “oooooohhhhhhhhhhh”, and that helped things a bit.
And our bus; with the same song and dance, with an unintended joke by Megha on a Rajni song, and the lecture on Tamil movies to both Vikram and her. :)

We rounded off the day with a hot cup of filter coffee at CTR, and the tired souls trudged back to their respective homes.

Amidst all the fatigue, the feeling of fun never died down.

It was a great day for the DSF and its kids.

Dear old 95

2006-01-17T01:32:00.000-08:00

After almost ages (11 years actually), I replicated my bus-catching routine last Friday. Bus rides bring back a lot of memories. And I am not talking about the company bus-rides…those are painful.

For me, a bus ride consisted of this routine:
Walk from school to the St. Mark’s road bus-stop.
Catch a bus to Shivajinagar.
Catch 95 back home.

I did this for 7 years on the trot.
I did this again last Friday.

Our company’s early shuttle dropped me right in front of school. It was 5 o’clock, and all the students had left. I walked to the bus-stand…and then it happened – flood of emotions, memories, etc. Nostalgia at its peak. I remembered…

…the first time that I was thrown out of a bus
5th standard. Bit late to get to St. Mark’s road, and the bus to Shivajinagar was already racing away. So I did what any kid my age would have dreamed of. The act that would have been played mentally a million times, and always dread to try it out in public knowing fully well that I would fall flat on my face. But here I saw the chance. I ran behind the bus, and when it was at its full speed, grabbed onto the right-side bar, and hopped onto it. Simple. Ecstasy. I had done my first “boarding-bus-at-full-speed”. I was beaming with pride…
The bus stops. The driver turns back and shouts at me all the way at the back. He asks me to get down. Pride? That had been whisked away in a whimper. I had people staring at me…the “stupid kid” responsible for the bus being held up. Eyes glaring at me. With my head bent down, I just got down and dragged myself back to the bus-stop. If such a thing happened right now, I would have taken my mobile out and pretended to have a conversation to avoid the embarrassment. No such thing then.
Of course, I did board running buses later on that year, later years…but just not bus number 34. :)

…the way I rolled the 95 bus ticket into a strip and fold it again, before tucking it below my watch strap. The watch seemed to feel a lot more complete. But you never feel the incompleteness on normal days…but trust me. When you tuck that white strip, your watch had a whole new feeling. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the hour hand had decided to jump a few hours.
And always…always, I would forget about the ticket until the time I removed my watch at my table. It would fall down, and I would drop it in the waste-basket.
And yes, I did that last Friday as well. Some things never change.

…the “game”
Ok, there are a lot of games that can be played on the bus. But my favourite solitary game was this:
Close your eyes, and think about something…anything, possible a book you recently read, a movie you recently saw, anything. After some time, with your eyes closed, try to guess which stop you are in.
It isn’t easy. It took me months before I had to remember stuff like, “Ok…a hump, immediately another hump, and then with a few seconds, we are stopping. Yes…this must be Mariappan Palya stop.” Or “This kind of right curving turn can be nothing else but the one after Natraj theatre onto Sampige road”. Pure fun.

…the favouritism
I hate bus conductors. Almost all of them (Ok…obviously not our Super Star. ;-). Especially the ones on the SBI to Shivajinagar route. The buses used to be jam packed with a lot of students, from a lot of schools. But the soft and soothing “oh. Parvagilla…swalpa mundhe hogamma. Slow-aagi iri…tension beda. Oh pass-a? Sari.” for the Bishop Cotton’s girls, and the harsh and angry “Lo…mundhe hogo! Bega bega…pass thorso. Nimbagge gothilva!!” for us Josephites….aargh…that still pains me. @!#!$!$

…the pen behind the ear and the notes between the fingers
The 95 bus conductor was a hero for me. I loved the way he nonchalantly kept his pen behind his ear, and never seemed to lose it. And here I was with a pencil box, a huge bag, and still losing pens by the dozen. And the rupees notes between the fingers…that just oozes style. Incredible style. :)

And by the time all these memories drained out, I was back at my house.
Back to taking the bike out.
Back to taking the car out.

Feeling lazy...

2006-01-10T03:24:00.000-08:00

I am feeling uncharacteristically lazy today.
Not that being lazy is uncharacteristic. On the contrary. But today is different…I can’t pin it down exactly. Or maybe I can if I continue rambling…

Being lazy has always been my biggest weakness (or strength if you choose to look at it that way). I know that I am supposed to begin working hard. I heard this dialogue in a Tamil movie ages ago,
Without education, a person can come up in life.
Without money, a person can come up in life.
Without brains, a person can come up in life.
But…there has never been the case of a single person coming up in life without working hard.

That scares me. To my bones. Deep.

A quote by my God Stephen King, “Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work”

More reason to make me feel scary. Where exactly do I go when I have neither the salt nor the juice.

Ok…I’ve now begun to sound like a goddamn chef! And I know no cooking…apart from 2-minute noodles. Great…a good reminder of another thing that I know nothing about, and have done nothing to improve it as well.

I feel like Mat. Nope…nope, not doormat. Uhmm…actually on more pondering, that’s probably what I feel like. But that would be digressing. Actually not digressing…just confusing my train of thoughts, which is quite addled already. So let us forget about doormats and talk about Mat.

Mat Cauthon is one of the protagonists in the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan. He is quite lazy. In fact, very lazy. And things happen to him mostly because of an incredible lucky streak. He has no talent that can be spoken of. But just moves around life fuelled by fortune. (Atleast that’s what he has been doing till Book 11. Things could take a turn for the worse in the final volume)

Robert Jordan has an absolutely unique narrative style. Very unique among all the authors I’ve read. There is no segment in the tale that is actually looked at from a third person perspective. As a result, any part of the story is known to us only through the character’s eyes. Eg. A segment featuring Mat as the main character would talk about how lazy he feels, how he hates fighting, how he can’t understand women…but we, the reader, would have no clue as to why the other people he interacts with are doing what they are doing. It’s simply brilliant.

And when I read Mat’s thoughts, I realize that it is eerily similar to mine…most of it. Atleast the parts pertaining to laziness.

Ah…we are back to the topic. So, with this kind of absolute indolence filling every cell of my body, how can I hope to come up in life.

Wait a second…do I see a loophole? Do I see redemption? Do I actually see “light at the end of the maze” (;-))?

What exactly is “come up in life”? There is no universal truth on this. Thank god for that. So, all that I would have to do is to define my “achievements”, and stay contented in the knowledge that I have already “achieved” those things. This seems to be a lot easier than to actually “work hard” and achieve something. Right?

Uhmm…seems so.

But something tugs. Something…I feel like I am cheating myself. Maybe I need to start being a bit more active. I have this restlessness which seems to be quite surprising in its presence. Indolence and restlessness normally do not prefer each other’s company. But maybe I am the Typhoid Tom and and they’ve decided to mess around with me.

I need to make a choice. Either this or that. No middle way. Absolutely no middle way.

Or…do I find a compromise? Sigh…some things never change!

Sprinkling pepper on my salt

2006-01-08T09:22:00.000-08:00

There were quite a few queries on the “Don’t sprinkle salt on my pepper” quote mentioned in the quotes blog. Here’s the explanation.

At a very basic level, and the instance of its creation, the statement was literal. But, it held meanings at a deeper level. How you ask? Here…

Think of salt and pepper hair.
Got the hidden meaning now?
If you are thinking about hair-dyes, I suggest you go for the metaphor. Got it now?

Anyway, today we sprinkled pepper on salt. Makes sense?
Never mind, just tag along…here are the details…albeit cryptic.

At a time when guys our age are buying tops for their girls, Chakku and me went around shopping for these tops.

Trust me it wasn’t easy. During a time when the sources of entertainment range from video games, computer games, to anything else the DPS-generation finds exciting, it is hard to find tops. I wouldn’t find it surprising if the younger generation assumes that the word top was derived from the word “topless”. Not the least bit surprising that would be.

Yup, I did write “younger generation”. Why? Do I feel old? Yes. Do I want more salt? No. Hence the peppering. Though salt is supposed to be a preservative, its metaphoric value is quite ironic.

The suggestion to buy tops came as a consequence of wanting to buy kites. Driving in the morning, this was the conversation between Chakku and me.
Me: Oh…this is the kite season right? A few can be seen…
Chakku: Yeah. It used to be fun those days
Me: True. But it’s been ages since I flew one…sigh!
Chakku: Want to fly them some day? Hey…why not today afternoon!

Just like that.

Took our purchases to the Devil’s house, dragged him out of bed and began “peppering” away. Ameya joined us late…and left early. He apparently had played with tops till his 5th standard, “and then Chemistry took over” (as Chakku aptly put it) :)

The kites did fly some distance. And the tops did spin a lot…well for almost everyone. And there we were getting back to something missed badly. And enjoyed that for a few hours missing all the current troubles.

But all those came rushing back over a cup of coffee (make that 2 cups of coffee) on the Devil’s terrace, as the three of us sat back and waited for age to catch up with us.

“This isn’t the way life is supposed to be.” said a wise man…err…make that wise kid. I think the way to get back at life is to act the way you are not supposed to be. You get what I mean? Pile on the pepper folks.
Life: Loser…look at you. Look at others ahead of you…and behind you. I shall see to it that you never see all that.
Me: Big deal! I really don’t want that. Maybe you want it…but what are you – just life? A non-living entity that thinks it can screw around with me. You know what? I stopped giving a damn. I make my own decisions. I fly wherever I want to. And whatever I want to. Including kites. I can send my head spinning. Or tops. Phawwww to you!

On that note, this weekend ends.

Happy Birthday GOD!

2006-01-05T23:06:00.000-08:00

(Picture Courtesy: arrahmanfans.com)

I wish I had a story similar to my dad’s regarding the first time he heard God’s music. In his own words:
I was walking down the road of Thiruchendur to the car when I suddenly heard this song being played in a tea shop. The song had lines ending with aasai. “Definitely not Ilayaraja”. Who could it be? Which movie was this? Two days later, the same song was being played on TV and then all the other information was told to me by your mother – music is by this new guy called A R Rahman. Simply breathtaking!
For me, on the other hand, it was nothing so dramatic. Any Mani Rathnam movie was a cause for celebration – be it the music release or the movie release. I walked into this audio cassette shop in Tuticorin (which incidentally had a photo of Ilayaraja on the board), and bought the tape of Mani’s then latest – Roja. I wanted to check the tape’s quality before I paid the money. He played the initial lines of Chinna Chinna Aasai…and there it was…CLICK.

Just a click. And I was hooked.
Literally as I couldn’t be prised away from that tape for weeks running.
Figuratively as I still can’t be prised away from God.

Now, it’s been nearly 14 years since that day. And the enthusiasm hasn’t dampened one bit. He continues to weave his magic as only he can. He provides those goosebumps just like only he can. In fact that is what separates the God from the mortals.

Listening to the “dil to aakhir dil hai na” or the “vaanukkum yellai undu natpukku illaiye” or the “manmael manjal velicham” has that effect. I would have loved to end this post by listing out some of my favourite songs/albums. As I began to sit down for the task, did I realized the enormity of the task. I do not want to get into such a thing and end up hurting my other favourite songs. So I shall end this post with a simple “Happy Birthday!”

Here’s wishing him the best of birthdays and hoping he continues to enthrall us all with his Godness.

Quotable Quotes

2006-01-02T23:59:00.000-08:00

A collection of quotes spoken or heard by me in the last one year. To maintain the privacy of the person who said the words, I shall refrain from naming them. Neither will I mention the situations. Those who find their words in this list would automatically remember the situation.

For the rest, I presume the fact these quotes have stuck around for as much as 365 days or 24 hours says a lot.

Also, don’t attempt to read too much into the position of the quotes in the whole post, or with respect to one another. I can assure you that there is no link whatsoever. :P

Being a God is not a tight T-shirt that can be worn and taken off…it is a tattoo.

Don’t tell him how to shoot a 3-pointer. Just tell him, “shoot a 3-pointer”

Carbon is the best. You know why I feel that – the font and the black background looks great.

There is a star. Another star. Oh another one…and we keep following it.

“That is why they say, “naughty at forty”.” Oh ok…chilli we have enough time.

“Hmm…is that so? I thought a girl falls for…blah blah blah”
“Yeah? Right…like we both know about such things”

Don’t sprinkle salt on my pepper.

This is not the way life was supposed to be.

Let’s form the human lapdance chain.

------- and friends. ------- and friends. What friends? Basically ------- and family!

If God were to tell me that….........but you can never…….....I would accept it in a second. That is how much…......

In fact I don’t consider you as my friend at all. You are my sister.
:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Don’t worry…I wont leave this place until each one has taken a photo with me.

I am fed up. I am seriously fed up.

There are elephants. And then there are women.

Are you dousing water on her hopes? Or are you kindling the dying embers into flames?

So created new folders?

It’s ---------. Don’t call her ----------.

You have a deer-in-trap. And rabbit-in-grass…pick one.

What colleagues? You just went out with ONE female colleague.

Evam Indrashis!

I’ll begin boozing. In fact, I shall drink regularly every weekend. But you must stop cigarettes completely.

In the known, in the unmanifested.

Jan 15^th?? Hmm…isn’t that Martin Luther King’s…..

The day Chilli gets married…the very next day I shall get married. Until then leave me alone.

The day Kaushik gets married…the very next day I shall get married. You have my word. Please don’t bug me till then.

So…whatsup?

We had invited them for lunch. At 12:30, we get a call, “Err…sorry. But you see she has a bad headache. So we can’t come today. Err…sorry!”

A great basketball coach need not be a good player. In fact, he needn’t have played basketball at all. So, in the same way, I am …

Damn! I would have made a great boy-friend!

If possible, stand out in the rains and say ……
How about, “the heavens themselves open out in tears”
Nah-uh…too melodramatic.
Oh…no wonder it didn’t work.

She is tooo good.

There is another word for this. It’s called pimping.

So, when are you getting married?

Is it a leap year? ;-)

Hey. ----- is on the way back home from work.

Instead of contrasting crests and troughs of happiness & sorrow, it is better to be at a flat line of sadness.

I am in Girinagar.
Hey…I am in Girinagar.
Sorry chilli, I am in Girinagar.

Do your drive better than your boy-friend?
Err…

I presumed you were acquainted with the modern thing called the internet.

Bah!

Cut your hair for heaven’s sake!!

You have a belt. It has 3 buttons. One of them is the brahmastra…

If you want to be part of the core, come right away.

You are the weirdest person I know. Without a doubt.

We didn’t notice any babes around that day at Bombay Post. Coz of Ameya. He was….

I couldn’t think of the word “beneficial”. So I had to use utile.

Guys, I heard this joke today.

I had 150 bucks in my wallet. So as I entered the shop, I decided to buy books for exactly that amount. Sounded like a master plan. I came out buying books worth 1500! I am helpless…hopelessly addicted. I have…no choice!

He has…no bridge.

You are GOD. For your patience…I have decided…you are truly GOD.

------ is a decent guy. He is not like -------

I don’t know why I take all these insults…sigh…

Aahhh…message sent. Aahhh…message not delivered.

The steps are half the size of my foot.
The steps are half the size of my foot.
The steps are half the size of my foot.

You think you are the only one having fun. But…

No one is going to fall for the first girl he sees in an arranged married…unless she is a hot babe.

Water water everywhere…

(squatting on hunkers, with the right hand resting on the thighs) I am independent. I am full of…

My throat goes urghhhhhhhhh

Anniyan! Anniyan! Jogi! Jogi! Irulli baba!

Pile On! Pile On!

Oh god! Tell him it is child marriage.

He has…no choice!

2005...

2005-12-30T01:17:00.000-08:00

I have been flooded with “Happy Birthday” mails since morning.
Ten mails till now…from people in my company I have no clue about.
And nope…today isn’t my birthday.

Some of the mails go like this, “Happy Birthday! Happy 2006”. I know I feel old. Heck I feel OLD. But definitely not 2006!

Even as I type this post, the wishes keep pouring in and with equal alacrity are people “replying all” in gay abandon. There was this one mail that had around 100 ppl on the mailing list, and a single happy birthday. And now each one of those 100 guys is bent on wishing the mystery birthday boy.

I am seriously confused. Is this some new trend of greeting the birth of a new year? That sounds like a noble thought, but why bug me with such mails!

You have spam…and you have polite spam. I don’t have the heart to tell these people that I am actually not celebrating my birthday sometime this weekend.
“Don't forget to call me... :P” he tells me.
“I don’t even know you. Nor do I have your number…what makes you think I will even remember your name” I yearn to tell him.

But I don’t. Why? Today is that time of the year. That time when people begin to talk about how fast the last year has moved. The last time I checked, time moved at 1 second per second. Never an inch slower or faster.

Since that is the flavour of the season, I might as well talk about the year past. Let me begin with, “It is indeed so surprising that time moves so quickly. In fact, it feels like just yesterday I was getting done with my courses…” Oh crap! I don’t have the energy to do that again.

2005 was a year filled with many highlights and firsts.

First and foremost, I never got to see Rajneesh the entire year. Not once. Since 1995, ever since the inception of the Gang, this year is deplorable in this respect. Rajjo, I won’t forgive you for this! My bike, with its near deflated tyres, yearns for your “holy weight”!

First year when I started a religion. I was going to write “we”, but the ex-God is ex for a reason. Which leads us to the next first.

First girl to be inducted into the Gang - Mary. All those shouting at the obvious hypocrisy being perpetuated by this God, I have one defence: ......... I am too egoistic to accept the lack of a defence…so try to imagine a puzzle out of nothing, and crack that cipher.
[As an aside, a few non-Gods would be hoping for this count to increase. All the best for that]

First roadtrip. Make that two roadtrips. Munnar & Mudumalai.

Return of Achuth.
(Rajjo, are you listening???)

First nephew. Oh yeah…I became a maama! (Knowers of tamil slang, wipe that smirk off your face!)

Acronyms galore. In fact, I came up with one just today morning – CCC (;-)). The others from the year are MSM (Misplaced Sense of Machoism), FNU (Friday Night Unwinding), AGGB (ahem…better left unsaid).

Obviously I have omitted on a lot more things that have made this year so…hmm…I am a bit wary of affixing any adjective that might jinx it.
[Speaking of “jinx” reminds me of an old incident. We guys always had this knack of picking drunken co-passengers in the BTS buses. And inevitably, Rajjo would bear the brunt of their “advances”. On one such occasion, Rajjo glared angrily at me and said, “you are a jinx” on hearing which, the drunkard went, “drinks-a? Yaenu drinks? No drinks!”.]

Hmm…so, in toto (;-)), 2005 was pretty eventful.
New friends.
Old friends.
Happiness.
Sorrow.

Well…the usual.

Sigh…I need a drink.
“One fresh lime soda – salt please!” ;-)

God's "Rang De Basanti"

2005-12-14T23:51:00.000-08:00

Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10 tracks of sheer genius. Heck to cliches...how the goddamn hell does He do it???!!!

Luka Chuppi sung by Lata Mangeshkar & God has to be the best! Simply mesmerising.
A close second comes Khalbali sung by Him once again. And then there is Blaaze's Paathshala - Be a Rebel.

All other albums take a back seat as I listen to the songs of Rang De Basanti non-stop.
Thanks God...once again.

To the North and back…

2005-12-14T01:29:00.000-08:00

I have not really travelled much. Circumstances have always kept me in and around Bangalore – “in” being the more dominant of the two. Any other traveling with my parents would be the mandatory temple tour of Tamil Nadu, and I have done a huge share of that. That was fun…but wouldn’t be any more to me. Until very recently (4 days to be precise), the northernmost place I had been to was Bombay…and that was almost 15 years ago. So, this trip to Delhi was quite a refreshing one for many reasons.

The primary purpose of the trip was to attend the wedding of a close friend of mine from my Infy days – Hitesh to his colleague Mrinal. And it was my first visit to a Punjabi wedding. More on that later. Firstly on what is my sticky issue…

Poor Hindi (or should I say poor “indi”)
Having been exposed to the language for just 3 years, all that I do when I speak/understand it is a good dose of laughter. For the listeners. And humiliation for myself. Sample this:

(An ad being played on TV that says “…mardon ke liye”)
Me: Hmm…you have products for dead bodies???
Avi: @#%@#%$@#% That is murdon. Mardon means "guys". Jackass!!

A bit of history on how I actually came to know the word murdon. This happened almost 2 years back in Mysore.
(Me observing a poster for a B-grade horror flick titled “Murdon ki mouth”)
Me: Dude, how the heck is the mouth of a chicken so scary???
Avi: @#%@#%$@#% murga means chicken. Murdon means dead body…
Me: Oh…so chicken is another name for the war god???

With such a background, it is obviously hard to survive in Delhi. Thankfully I had Avinash & SP to help me out.

Shopping nightmares
One thing that had been told to us guys before leaving for Delhi was the abundance of shopping opportunities. Though not really a very enthusiastic shopper, I was indeed looking forward to buying a pair of shoes and a few sweatshirts. But all that changed when we were thrown the B word by Mrinal! Apparently the rates mentioned by the seller would be 5000, but we could buy it from him for 500…in effect, we had to BARGAIN!! That word sent shivers down the spines of Avi and me…not so much in SP. But then again, his definition of bargaining was quite different…this is what he did:
Seller: The charger costs 350.
SP: 100 bucks.
Seller: No
SP: No? Ok, I am going then…
That’s it. His bargaining is done. He has quoted the lower price, and, satisfied, leaves the shop. Obviously without buying anything. :)

Drunken auto-driver
We got conned in Agra. Big time. And repeatedly. Nothing could be done about that. There are certain things Avi & me are quite good at…and this is one of those: getting fooled easily. We had an auto-driver whose only English consisted of “You happy? So happy? Or no happy?” followed by a laugh that still gives me nightmares! He promised us to get us the best shopping deals. All that he did was direct us towards a shop, and lock the door from outside. Ok…not exactly locked, but closed the door in a manner that suggested in no uncertain terms on what would happen to us if we didn’t buy stuff there.

After completing some minimal shopping, we entered the leather goods section of that shop. I was admiring some really nice shoes when SP declared that none of the goods were made of leather as the shop didn’t have “the smell”. That was that then. If I am going to get conned, I would prefer paying exorbitantly more for a good quality good, rather than paying exorbitantly more for a poor quality good. Safer that way.

After a pretty nice dinner, we waited for a few minutes before our auto driver returned a tad unsteadily. He claimed that he had had gone for a cup of “tea”. Yeah right!!

Bus Service & Roads
What we lack in detecting deception, we guys made up for that in having an abundance of foresight. We used the bus service for almost all our travel purposes. The call of the taxi was quite alluring, but we resisted. The Delhi bus service is very good. Despite having the bad habit of writing the names of all places in Hindi (just like how it is Kannada in Bangalore), the frequency is amazing. The quality of the buses are sub-standard though. They have numerous orifices and air curtains at all possible angles. On our way back from Agra, we faced extreme chill hitting us from all possible points. The bus is anything but airtight!

But the roads…sigh! I wouldn’t want to take back anything from Delhi to Bangalore except for the roads. Double sigh!! The 3 of us spend upto 5 hours traveling back and forth everyday commuting from our homes to office. We brave the horrendous Hosur Road traffic day in and day out. And compare that to the broad, smooth roads in Delh…triple sigh!!!

Rasm, Pagdi, etc
Hitesh or Golu or “Luthra the thief” is one of the funniest guys, and not because of his jokes. It has more to do with his expressions.
Hitesh: “That is Mrinal’s father…”
Me: “So, your father-in-law?”
Hitesh: “Ya…whatever…”
He had given up on my Hindi years ago in Mysore, and his exasperation on me thinking rasm was similar to our sambhar-rasam was just momentary. He resigned himself to the fate of explaining that it meant rituals. Poor guy.

Being the only friends of his who had attended the wedding, we were forced to do a lot of embarrassing things. The sight of Avi and me dancing on the road as Hitesh followed us on his horse must have been a truly comic moment. In fact, I distinctly overheard one of the relatives ask the videographer for an extra copy of the dance portions. :)

Knowing just the simple dance steps of the dabbangoothu, me and Avi managed to keep repeating that for all kinds of music, beats, tunes. The entire 2 hours can be summarized in this line: “We made a complete ass of ourselves, as the other ass sat astride the horse and cackled gleefully!” @#$%#$$%#$%

Different kind of marriage
In the weddings that I’ve visited (basically Tamilian & Kannadiga), the priest is the sole director of the proceedings. He controls what happens next, what should be the exact protocol to be followed. Punjabi weddings seem to be more people oriented. The close ones take over the proceedings and indulge in socializing activities. A huge disparity indeed. The pundit in these weddings is quite trivial. In fact, Avi even observed that the pundit recited nothing more than “shuklaam baradharam vishnum…”. It was eerily similar to our “limited moves dancing”. :P

Overall it was incredible fun. And as Avi mentions here, it is quite unbelievable that Hitesh is already married. We both came to the unanimous conclusion that Hitesh would be a perfect henpecked husband. Let’s see how that works out. ;-)

Congratulations once again to Mrinal & Hitesh.

Two Ads

2005-11-22T22:18:00.000-08:00

There were a couple of advertisement boards that caught eye today on the way to office. Not because they are any good. On the contrary, they are pretty bad. But they do not attract my attention because of their flagrant “badness” either. It is what the ads imply that pains me, irritates me, annoys me,…hmmm…in some cases angers me as well.

The first ad was for this product called Memory Plus. Apparently the tablets, if taken regularly, help in energizing your memory, and help you remember better. Until this point, I have no objections. There is a product, and this is what it does. Fair enough. Now comes the…hmm…let’s just call it “thing”. The ad goes on to proclaim how you can study well, crack the exams, study even more, and finally become a success. Let me not even get to how “success” is defined here. Of course, these ads do not leave it at that. They always have to depict the contra. And that is done by showing how a kid with poor memory sulks, and looks dejected. And this is where I get angry. Why the heck is how much you remember a barometer of what you would achieve in the future! Our education system is flawed precisely because of this premise. And we have products which go on to jeer at those that really do not “succeed” in a flawed system. Isn’t there something called sensitivity???

If this ad hasn’t done enough to get me riled up, I don’t have to wait longer to be served the full course. It is literally from the “deep-end” to the “shallow extreme”. If the previous ad was trying to impress upon the people the importance of a non-tangible characteristic, this is right opposite. The product goes by the name Fair & Handsome. Quite a segue eh? Again, just like the memory crap, this has its starting pitch of making a dark guy fair, or a fair guy fairer. No objections. I repeat, there is a product, and this is what it does. Fair enough. But not when the ad goes on to depict the supposedly “sad state” of the dark guys. You know what…let me not get angry. I actually have a proposition to make. I’ve seen the TV ad for this particular product. And sadly, it seems to be a throwback to the earliest archaic Fair & Lovely ads. C’mon guys!! move with the times. Here is my concept for the ad:
Cricket selections are going on. Person X sucks at bowling, batting, fielding, keeping, etc. And worse than this is the fact that he is dark-skinned. (shudder!) We have his elder brother dropping an F&H tube onto his lap. Voila! What a transformation!!! He goes, all fair, to the cricket camp. And obviously get selected. Now comes the match. [I feel we can get the Fair & Lovely team of Genelia & Srikkanth for the commentary part] And our man strides onto the crease, and is out for a duck. The commentators go, “Oh Cheeka. He can’t hold a bat properly, he can’t bow…he can do nothing actually. But what a find for India!! Look at that white skin of his!!!!!!!!”

People! Grow up! I remember this guy who had come to our IIMB campus and said quote proudly on stage, “If we Indians have the mentality that being fair is always better. That being dark is bad. And if a rival company shows a person using their product becoming an air-hostess, then I find nothing wrong in showing that our consumers go on to become pilots!” And there was applause. I repeat. Applause for that!!! And we wonder what is wrong with this country. Sigh!

The longer we tend to get ourselves ensnared in flawed systems that place emphasis on the wrong parameters, and the longer we reinforce our shallow perspectives with even cheaper struts, I do not see this country going anywhere. Absolutely nowhere!!!

And finally...Avi joins us 26ers.

2005-11-19T10:30:00.000-08:00

Today we celebrate the birthday of one of my very very close friends, who is not part of our Gang. But that doesn’t reduce his or my outlook to each other’s friendship. Ever since our training at Mysore, he has been the person who has listened to my cribs on a particular topic, almost on a daily basis. On second thoughts, remove the “almost”. He has always been there to listen to me.

If there was one person who wasn’t really keen on me joining IIMB, (apart from me, that is) it was him. His email to me on quitting my job was one that ended with a “for once, just once, I wish you hadn’t got into IIM…”; very typical of him as he always wears his heart on his sleeve.

His fondness for orange juice, hatred of hawai chappals, his thought-provoking “Imagine if…” rhetorics, his masterly prestidigitation of a multitude of “clouds” (;-)), and many more; these are the things that come to mind when you think of him.

Someone whom you can always bank on for that last hour movie, last minute dinner, last second coffee. In fact, he has come along with me to a few Tamil movies on just a few hours’ notice. And nope, he doesn’t understand a word of Tamil…just like how I’ve seen quite a few Hindi movies to humour him.

He has been out of India for a major part of the last two years…but all bad things end sooner or later. He is coming back next month for good…and that should see more days of fun. I think we would be doing the “Shabari Malai” ritual once again as well…despite the fact that neither of us achieved what we wanted the last time we went there.

He turns 26 today, and though I am a bit late in my wishes, I hope to publish this before his birthday ends in US-time. Here’s wishing Avinash a very very happy birthday!! :-)

Janmadinasamsakal

2005-11-16T10:30:00.000-08:00

Come November, and the lack of birthday posts ends. Today is the last birthday for this year, i.e. among the Gang members.

We celebrate the birthday of one of the most soft-spoken guys that you can come across.

Looking back at the history of the formation of the Gang (which actually could be a separate post by itself), today’s birthday boy was the one with whom I first became friends. New to this school in XI, and surrounded in a highly nerdish environment, I felt out of place. But he, with the microscopic handwriting, and the unique way of saying, “Noooooooohhhh”, sat next to me, and helped me get to know the others better.

Though he was missing in action amongst us during his engineering days, I really don’t think I ever thought he was missing from the Gang. The phrase, “out of sight, out of mind” (a highly irritating phrase if I may add) never holds among us. Much like how another jackass who continues to segregate himself from the rest of us Indians, this birthday boy was always amongst us in our memories…always!

It is only our greatest fortune that he has come back to Bangalore for good, and makes our cup of joy overflow.

Apart from being the only person in the Gang with whom I can discuss Tamil movies at length, he is also my source for clearing doubts in Malayalam movies (the good kind. :P)

His other claims to fame could come in the form of being the only person I know who used to wear two contact lenses…per eye! And, currently, he is the one worthy enough to be my co-God in Singularism; definitely a claim that warrants a lot of appreciation.

As Chakku once said, “…this guy seems like he is in other realm.” His answers of “hey…it’s ok man!” give people the impression of having reached a superior level of enlightenment that we may only look longingly at.

The way he rags other members of the Gang (especially Mary. :P) is a sight to behold. His re-entry into Bangalore was clouded with a lot of lies from all member of the Gang, excluding me, and that has just given him more ammunition to rag them all. ;-)

Here’s wishing Kokilaben aka Mama aka Achoo aka Achuth a very very happy birthday!!! :-)

Have fun dude!

GOD’s Concert - Details

2005-11-16T02:33:00.000-08:00

Day 1:
I’ve heard a lot of people talk about how they felt that surges of something big waiting to happen. But no such thing happened. I woke up very early as I had to get to the concert venue for the volunteering activities. In fact, I was quite sure that if (a big IF) I were to get a chance to stand next to Rahman, it would definitely be the next day – the actual day of the concert. I looked at this day as just a mere formality to get over with, and then wait for my turn.

Of course, GOD had other plans. I’ll get to that in a moment. Before that I need to describe my encounter with another genius – Sivamani.

After picking up Mary from her home, and a quick breakfast, we landed at the venue quite early. In a few minutes, most of the entire fan group had assembled at the shamiana next to the stage. This was supposed to be our (volunteers) base camp. We began the day by doing a few odd jobs here and there. The management of the crew was left to Gops & Arun, who did an incredible job in sending the right guys to the right places.

So close!
One of the organizers wanted a volunteer to direct Sivamani’s driver to the VIP parking lot, and I was the one who was free at that point of time. I was elated! Not because I would be going with Sivamani, because he was practicing on stage, but because I would be going in his car. So off I trudged to the car, when I saw it coming right next to the stage, and I was told that my services wouldn’t be actually required.  So damn close!

Or was it?
So Mary and me were just walking back from the base camp to the stage…me still ruing my lost opportunity. When this guy walks up to me and asks me the directions to the VIP parking lot. Before I can begin, he takes me to his passenger who is standing at the door – Sivamani!!! And Sivamani now wants to know whether I could direct him to the parking space. :))))
And so I did. I rode in his car with him and we spoke for five minutes on…how late would the cops let them practice, which was my hometown, etc.
:))))))))))))))

Rehearsal Time
It was almost 8ish by the time GOD made his appearance and we got seats that would be the equivalent of courtside seats in the NBA. Watching Him practice up so close was a goose-bumpish feeling. (Ok, if goose-bumpish really doesn’t exist as a word, there should! I plan on using it a lot of times in this post)

We got to sample the brilliant Aayo Re Saki from Water, Thee Thee from Thiruda Thiruda (sung surprisingly by Sadhna Sargam!), GOD’s own Azaadi from Bose – The Forgotten Hero, among a few other gems. Just as soon He appeared on stage, we guys decided to be at our boorish best, which was nothing but a huge loud cheer and waving of arms and banners. The decibels increased exponentially as He decided to wave back at us.

For the next hour or so (another small point – time had lost a lot of its significance by then. If I say “one hour”, I could mean one hour, five hours, or five minutes. You get the drift?), we just stood enthralled watching Him create his magic, roam around and rag the other musicians, singers, while His sound engineer H Sridhar was literally tearing his hair apart trying to reach perfection.

B to the L to the A to the A to the Z to the E
While this rehearsal was happening, two of our fans, Radha & Karthik, had the fortune to talk to Blaaze backstage. They told him about the gift from our group, how we would love to meet GOD, and he was quite receptive to the whole thing. He told them to quit worrying and assured them that we would be able to have our dreams fulfilled that day itself!! Karthik also managed to get a photo of himself with GOD.

Blurred
The rehearsal was winding up, and all of us decided to wait at the food court close to stage. Well, what happened after that was…a blur! To recollect is…

That’s it. My life is done. Done. Absolutely.

Paradise.

I repeat. Paradise.
Goodbye earth!

You know how that went.

It was time to get back home and hit the sack, and get back early to the venue the next day.
Of course, it is a different thing that I really couldn’t sleep. No surprise there.

Day 2:
Despite the euphoria of the previous day not having died down, I knew that this day would be a hectic day in terms of a lot of hard work. And being gifted with the knack of complete laziness, “hard work” isn’t obviously something that really gees me up. But a man can change. Or rather, circumstances change a man.

The volunteers spent the first half of the day in doing a lot of tasks – movement of equipment, determining the ticket entrances, manning the VIP gates, etc. Through all this, a lot of excitement was building up. For many, it was their first Rahman concert, for others, it was a chance to watch it real close. Throw into this the possibility of rain, and we had quite a simmering situation.

First drops
I still remember the first drops that fell on my cap. It began at the same time the crowd at the VIP entrances began to swell. There was a fear that was writ large on our faces. We (Gops, Arun, Mary, Sharmila, me) faced a barrage of questions from a lot of 10000 ticket holders. While most kept their cool on being told that there wasn’t a shelter for any of the stands, others didn’t.

Notable was a bunch of elderly women who demanded a refund from Gops. But he maintained his customary cool, and told them that he understood his problems, to which the lady replied, “Good that you understand our problems. So you please give us our money!”

Prakash who?
The good news about being in charge of the VIP gates is that you have the opportunity to meet some celebrities.
The bad news is that you fall flat on your face when you do not recognize an important person.

There was this huge contingent rushing through the entrance, and so I stopped them to find out what tickets they held. They apparently had passes courtesy a certain M P Prakash. So, my obvious question was “ Prakash who?”. And the answer was the…Deputy CM of Karnataka. Yikes!!

Ok, in my defence, the current coalition politics in Karnataka is such a sham that I shouldn’t be blamed if I were to assume that Deve Gowda was the CM. When the CM himself is on such a shaky seat, who really has any clue on the Deputy CM!

Last straw
By 7 PM, the downpour had reached levels that I had never seen in Bangalore. I continued to stand at the entrance and check the tickets of anyone entering. As my dear friend Rajjo used to say, “After a certain point of time, you really can’t get drenched any more!” Hard rains prevented people from coming in, and this followed by the sight of “VIPs” actually using chairs to protect them from the rain did it. We people at the entrances decided to go to the front of the stage and see what was in store for us.

“Give us an hour…”
There we were all cluttered right in front of the stage, which was filled with artists covering their instruments, and a lot of policemen holding discussions with the organizers. Then GOD made his appearance and told us, “Just give us an hour. We will be back with music for you!”

Double Blur
After that one hour delay where Sivamani, Blaaze & Kaliash Kher entertained us with a few tidbits, GOD began with Fanaah and ended with Maa Tujhe Salaam. In between, I was somewhere else. Lost.

As I said. Blur. :)

Epilogue
Drove hard in the rains to drop of my great companion (Mary) throughout the two days of the concert, her parents, Pamsy. Then reached home with two pals from IIMB – Other & DD. Had a nice cup of Bournvita and stayed awake as my mind replayed the previous 48 hours.

:)))))))))))))))))))

[A huge thanks to Gops, Arun, Radha and all the other volunteers!]

GOD's Concert - Impressions

2005-10-17T02:44:00.000-07:00

I am a strong believer in “destiny”. Or “fate” as the ones who are hard done by call it. Or “luck” as the ones who have had the green rubbed their side call it. My entire life has been one lucky ride. And it was no surprise that the A R Rahman concert played out as it eventually played out.

As I began to write this piece on the concert, I realized that it would be nigh impossible to leave out my personal perspective on the whole thing. And I also realize that cluttering this with the other details would make the entire thing a mess. So I’ve decided to put this in two parts. One version that ambles along with no temporal discipline, or narration structure…akin to my feelings the two days. The other would be more orderly, and help in providing a window to those unfortunate to not be there.

Late Friday evening we were right below the stage watching the God rehearse. And Shiva said something that articulated a thought that was pretty common among all of us – “I’ve seen him this close. Even if I were to die right now I would be contented.” Until then the quote of the day had been the hilarious “We have 20000 stickers exactly for 20000 glasses. Don’t waste even one!”. Shiva’s had taken the lead, but life never ceases to surprise you. GOD, who is not known to be a very garrulous person, said this – “Don’t worry! I won’t leave until each one of you has taken a photo…”. Sigh! It is no coincidence that the ones who talk and brag the most are actually the ones who have achieved the least. Here was a legend, genius, GOD, etc…but who was also a great human being. Forgive the obvious irony in the “GOD being a great human”. But I did warn you about inconsistencies in this post.

After the photo with Him, things were quite a bit blurred. I vaguely remember walking around in circles as the enormity of the situation attempted to hit me. I don’t blame it for striking me late…as I said, I was walking around in circles, hence making myself a tough target. I do remember giving out a leap of joy. I do remember having a grin plastered onto my face. But I think my eyes were the ones that suffered the most damage. As a friend of mine commented on mail, “The glint in the eyes of sridhar is awesome.. looks as if he has achieved his purpose of life.:p” Agree. Completely.

Maybe these few seconds with the GOD equipped me with the resilience to bear what was to follow the next day. As the heavens opened up, dowsing pretty much everything in sight, including a lot of long-dreamt hopes, my distressed mind began to frantically look for something to cheer me up. If one looks really hard, the entire world is itself a silver lining. Actually, due to the heavy downpour, and the subsequent announcement by GOD that the show would go on, one thing became clear. Or I should say, one more thing became clear. He doesn’t just break all barriers of language, region, religion, country, etc with his music. He had also broken all economic barriers. 10K, 6K, 3K, 500…all were huddled up in the same section.

Despite his associates expressing their misgivings on continuing the show, He stuck to his word. Besides, if not for the rain, most of us volunteers led by Gopal & Arun would have never been able to actually witness the concert. It is almost a case of GOD deciding to do all that needs to be done to help us witness another GOD perform. The fact that the rains kept quiet until the last song further proves my theory. And even those rains were actually beneficial. It would have been hard for quite a few of the people to explain the tears streaming down their faces otherwise.

His music tugs at our hearts, not just our ears. He is the only one who has the ability to provide the “goosebumpish moments”. Shedding a few tears in exchange is a small price to pay. Heck! no price at all. As He sang Maa Tujhe Salaam, the process of being transformed into a different realm reached completion. I got up a chair, threw away whatever bit of voice was left in my throat, and…
Not possible. It is just not possible to express that particular feeling.

I could taste the salt in the rain. Tears and rain were indistinguishable.

The show was over. I had been drenched to the bone. And it was a mild surprise to not wake up with a bad cold the next day.
Actually not really a surprise.
After all, what are GODs for? :)

Thank you once again GOD!

(to be complemented/supplemented with the detailed narration)

With GOD!!!

2005-10-10T23:30:00.000-07:00

That’s it. My life is done. Done. Absolutely.

Paradise.

I repeat. Paradise.
Goodbye earth!

:-)

(A million million thanks to Radha for taking this photo. A detailed description of the concert will follow by this weekend. My body is aching. A lot.)

Right next to GOD. Right next to GOD. Sigh!

I repeat.

Right NEXT to HIM!!!

Sigh.

:-)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

The “Joy” of F1-Watching

2005-10-02T23:58:00.000-07:00

I received an email the other day from a friend of mine saying that some XYZ had won the Formula 1 Championship. And he was apparently the youngest to achieve this feat.
My mind interpreted this as: “XYZ came first among a bunch of losers participating in a boring activity that is as fun to watch as…”…never mind…I do not want to get harsh right at the beginning of this post. There is enough space further down that would give me sufficient scope to vent my ire.

I would like to congratulate the XYZ on one thing though – resilience, endurance, perseverance. The other day I was trying to count a bunch of rupee notes when this friend of mine kept distracting me by throwing in random numbers. Now, the fact that I managed to count them successfully is a test of my resilience, endurance and perseverance. And, I might as well add, a whole lot fun than the funereal caravan that goes around in the guise of F1. But would anyone be stupid enough to get hooked on to this rupee-counting exercise? You would think not…but you would be surprised to see the number of such numb-witted morons who actually enjoy this “sport”.

Ah…sport. I had resolved to not use this word in this particular post. Now that I have done this great word a huge disgrace, I might as well utilize it for a few minutes and let it slither away in compounding shame. Sport is something that involves the use of brains or physique or skill or talent or hard work or athleticism. A bunch of dumbos with helmets so big to compensate for their actual lack of brains “supposedly” circling around a road with no signals, rules, and a very high fatality rate is not a “sport”.

I’ve spoken so much without actually getting to the title. A few weeks back, thanks to Chakku & Kaushik, I was forced to watch an F-1 race at Barista. Well, not exactly watch…but more like staring at a screen saver trying to figure out something good in the whole crappy mess. There are very few things on ESPN Star that I would not see. And this ennui in the name of F-1 is definitely one. So I decided to turn my back to the screen, and try to find some joy out of this F1 race. And it actually happened!! No kidding. Here are the highlights:

Crowd goes “Whoooo…yeahhhhhh…whoooooooo…”
I turn expectantly to see an incredible manoeuvre happening. Nope. Apparently a car went over a worker’s shoe. Did you read that??? I shall repeat, APPARENTLY A GODDAMN CAR WENT OVER A POOR WORKER’S SHOE!!! And that is cause for excitement?!!

Chakku & Kaushik, “Hey…look at that!! Whoa…smooching…whoa!”
Well, I turned to catch…surprise surprise…a change in the TV channel. Some benevolent soul seemed to have switched to National Geographic. And there were 2 alligators on a deserted road trying to smooch. Wait wait…the heads of the monsters seem to be exploding, and out emerge two jokers in jumpsuits. Damn!!! It is still the race. :(

Commentator staring at a painting of a road: “This is the stretch that is the key. Look at him go…oh my god oh my god 2.1231254545”
Commentator after 15 mins: “This is the stretch that is the key. Look at him go…oh my god oh my god 2.12312545455”
Commentator after 20 mins: “This is the stretch that is the key. Look at him go…oh my god oh my god 2.12312555”
Commentator after 22 mins: “This is the stretch that is the key. Look at him go…oh my god oh my god 2.12122”
For any observer totally oblivious to the level of stupidity of an F1-fan, this would have seemed like a PlayWin/Lotto lottery number announcement session. And I would empathise with that observer. Why else would any self-respecting individual with even the barest modicum of brains get turned on by a few numbers flashing across the screen???

There were a few more highly exciting incidents during the race, but I do not want to overdo the entertainment card here. Me & Rajjo have been F1-haters since time immemorial. Or since the time F1 began to get popular. We had tried coming up with a few doubts on the entire charade. Here they are, with our honest attempts at a logical answer:

1) How do the drivers take a leak?
Ans: Till the 1950s, the term pit-stop was actually “pot-stop”. The drivers would park their cars, rush to the pot, relieve themselves, and hop back into the seat. Since this wasn’t providing the requisite amount of boredom to the viewers, they changed the rules. Drivers were asked to pee into the fuel tank. But this rule resulted in drastic results. The “oh my god oh my god 3.333” gave way to a “oh my god oh my god 3.3343433”. On further inquiry, it was found out that the drivers began to take performance enhancement drugs. And this passed on from their urine to the fuel and upped the engine’s performance. Sounds unbelievable? I agree…but so is the concept of people actually enjoying F1. Since we have proof for the latter, the former is also justified. Anyway, to prevent such malpractices that would result in cheating the public (more), the association decided to provide diapers to all the drivers. And that is how it stands…until the next loophole is found.

2) Why can’t they have a few hurdles?
Ans: Given a chance, no mature individual who prides himself on his driving skills would actually relish driving on such hassle-free roads. At the end of the day, I have more respect for the skills of my bus-driver who takes me from E-City through the nightmarish Hosur Road. This driving is a true test of perseverance, skill, endurance. Not brainless circumambulation.

3) When do the TV guys know the right time to insert ads?
Ans: Ok, let me do a bit of role-playing here. I shall pretend to be an ardent F1 fan, who is totally enamoured by the proceedings. Since the same 2 minutes of high octane excitement footage seems to be getting looped constantly, I wouldn’t like to be denied the opportunity to be glued to this for hours. So, how does the TV guy differentiate the boring (god forbid!) parts from the non-boring? I mean, don’t you get the impact? I miss 30 seconds of what has been going on…and how would I be able to cope with that!!! Never!

Disclaimer:
My views on F1, F1 drivers, and F1 fans were not meant to be insulting, demeaning, etc. The views expressed are just a manifestation of my anguish. I mean…yes…I do think that they are a whole lot of jerks. But…you know what…this disclaimer doesn’t even make sense now.
I actually meant what I wrote. Period. Sue me. :)))

Indian Cricket woes...:(

2005-09-15T22:10:00.000-07:00

I just don’t like the way Indian cricket is going at the moment. This Test series against Zimbabwe has given our cricket administrators/players to display their stupidity, inanity, and other synonyms. And things have reached the zenith (or nadir, depending on how you look at it) after the news on someone (possibly Greg Chappell) having asked Ganguly to step down as captain.

My take on the whole issue – I am surprised that Greg or whoever it was that suggested that Ganguly should step down, didn’t realize that Ganguly should actually be thrown out of the team. Of course, Ganguly thinks that his century yesterday has played a good part in silencing his critics, and considers it his way of “hitting out at them”. Balderdash!!!

All that Ganguly did yesterday was “pulled a Tendulkar”, which to the unenlightened masses, is an innings where you strive very very very hard for a milestone, totally ignoring the team’s needs, and then, once you have attained your personal goal, throw away your wicket. But I won’t be surprised if the public in India begin lauding him. You already have the precedent set by Tendulkar…how big a step is this if they embrace Ganguly under the same umbrella as well! Eh?

Also, what the heck was Yuvraj doing playing instead of Kaif??!!! Kaif is a perfect team player, and has a good defense that would help him in Test cricket. Yuvraj, on the other hand, for all his talent, is still vulnerable against the moving ball. Of course, the best option would be to give both the youngsters a chance, and dump the most consistently failing batsman in our lineup – Ganguly. But this logical move doesn’t seem so logical to the decision-makers…sigh!

But such cruel injustices happen to Kaif and their likes. There are some eternal dead-weights in the team who seem to be getting a million chances based on criteria that are surely non-cricketing. A case in point being Ajit “Laddoo” Agarkar. I don’t even want to get into the “all-rounder” argument when talking about Laddoo, as that would be a criminal offence. Has he done justice to his bowling talent, i.e. giving him the allowance that he does have talent? How exactly are his performances captivating or matchwinning enough to get him so many entries into the team? A 6-for in Adelaide, or a century in a losing cause in Lord’s…are these sufficient? What about people who get a look-in for just a single series, and are dumped forever. And by “look-in”, I mean their stint as a water boy, and not actually as a player.

Given that Nehra was injured at the last minute…but is Agarkar our next best option?? Why can’t we try out some new guy like a Munaf Patel or a J P Yadav (who actually seems to be a true all-rounder) just to see how good/bad he is! Oh wait…he isn’t from the same zone? #$$%^%$^

Ganguly, Jagmohan Dalmiya, and the entire cabal need to be expunged from Indian cricket. That is the only way we will move up. But I think I am hoping for too much here. So, all I can do till then, is enjoy the efforts for the team that the likes of Dravid, Laxman & Kumble put in. You got to take what you get. Tough…

A R Rahman live in Bangalore!

2005-09-13T01:16:00.000-07:00

Full Size

Date: October 8th, 2005
Time: 7 PM
Venue: Palace Grounds, Bangalore

Tickets are out in PVR Cinemas, Planet M, Cafe Coffee Day.
Mobile ticket booking is also available. This can be availed by people not staying in Bangalore. All they need to do is to preserve the bar code that is sent in the SMS, and get it scanned on the day of the concert.

Ticket Rates-
Standing: 499/-, 999/-
Sitting: 2499/-, 2999/-, 5999/-, 9999/-

There is a Corporate discount available on the 2999/- ticket. These tickets can be bought for 2499/-, and this stand gives you a chance to be in the very first row! You can email me at sridhar.raman@gmail.com regarding any queries on the corporate tickets. (more details on the seating arrangement later)

"Dinner? Why? No reason."

2005-09-08T23:27:00.000-07:00

I am inexorably dragged to the tagline. Yup, the same “Love has no reason. Only season”. It seems to be a template for higher things.

Let me talk about that later. Right now I want to talk about something that is very close to my heart. Sample this conversation:
X: Dude, are you free for dinner tonight?
Y: Hmm…why? Is it somebody’s treat or something?
X: Hey no…just like that. I was bored, wanted to know whether dinner would be good…
Y: Yup. No problem. Decide the place, I shall be there.
X: Great!

It seems to be a very very simple conversation. But I find it incredible. As in not “unbelievable”, but as in “incredible” feeling. I have been either X or Y a million times, and the responses have always been the same.

I do not know whether it is just me…but I find the concept of “dinners without reason” truly exciting. Birthday treats, movies, etc all have an agenda attached along with them. You are there to celebrate something with somebody. But not so with DWRs. You make it to these dinners only because you are spending time with your friends. No other reason. It has this undertone of unconditionality that I find moving.

I can remember the countless number of evenings/nights spent at a Java City, or a Barista, or (insert famous coffee shop/eating place), etc just enjoying the bad food, and relishing the splendid conversation. Conversation that predominantly revolves around our lives, with a sprinkling of politics, sports, movies, and other worldly crap. The non-personal topics are typical chewing matter for conversations with friends, acquaintances, colleagues, auto drivers…but not with your best friends. Atleast that is how I think it should be.

I am lucky to be around such people in the Gang. People who would do their best to make it for dinner, coffee, etc. Just to be with us. There is nothing we are getting to the dinner, but us…but that should suffice. Right? I guess so…

For all those ridiculing this concept, I can only offer my sympathies. You are just missing out on something truly special.

If things go right, there should be a DWR that should double up as a FNU tonight. The wait seems long, but pleasant. I can understand the “Long days, pleasant nights” greeting of Stephen King’s Mid-World even better now.

Oh, before I end a word on the tagline.
Dinners have no reason. Only ‘cya soon’.
:-)

Cya soon.

Combined Treat

2005-09-05T01:18:00.000-07:00

After having a few jinxed birthday treats with atleast one member of the Gang missing them, Saturday night was a resounding success. (Ok, we still did miss Rajjo, but I can’t say much about that apart from this refrain – “Come back dude!!!”.)

If I remember correctly, the first ever birthday treat that any member of the Gang ever doled out was Chakku. He got us all a Pepsi from Sandhya Stores right next to our school. We slowly graduated to Mathru Sagar, Shanti Sagar, Gokul, KFC, Kabab Corner, Tandoor, Angeethi, Samarkand, Spiga, TGIF, Magnolia, Annachi, Rice Bowl, Grasshopper, Dahlia, and MTR. The list of the places is in no particular order, nor is it exhaustive…but MTR is definitely the best in terms of quality of food.

So, after a delay of a month, Kiddo & Chakku gave their combined birthday treat at Firangi Paani. I had vowed to make the two of them regret having decided to give a combined treat. We do not know how fruitful we were in our endeavour. But the food at the place was awesome – the ordering of the vegetarian dishes was Pinto’s duty, and he did a very good job. Despite some dishes which bordered on profanity (like Maa ki Daal), most of his choices were spicy fares – and more spice means more taste.

Remember my earlier post on love having no reason, only season? Well, I modified that to this: Vegetarianism has no reason. Only season. How else would you explain Kiddo 2, who is not supposed to eat non-veg throughout the year, saying, “This is the month of Shravan. So I am not allowed to eat non-veg!!” Ok, there is the other explanation that I came up with – maybe he is following a Jai Santoshi Ma austerity for the well-being of someone. Ahem! ;-)

While we are on the subject of vegetarians, I might as well talk about the “silent ones” and the “talkative ones” during dinner. The 6 vegetarians (Kiddo, Chakku, Pinto, Kiddo 2, Pamsy, me) spoke a lot. While the 3 non-veggies (Achoo, Kaushik, Bandhar) ate a lot, and spoke zilch. Is there a trend here? I know not about that, but Kiddo 2 would have been happy that Bandhar was pretty quiet, taking into consideration that the only time he surfaced into our conversation was to rebuke Kiddo 2. :)))

Most of the jokes were on “You’ve crossed 800, do you want to continue?”, “This seems slightly unbelievable. Let me send my score for retotalling and get it reduced”, “So why don’t you save money by…”, and a million other things that the outside world would never understand.

The drive back was a lot of fun in the pouring rain. Well, it was fun mingled with a tinge of melancholic nostalgia as I had to drive through the roads of Jayanagar after dropping Achoo & Pinto off. Another kind of fond longing also settled in as we drove through the empty roads, lashing rains…sigh…where is that Bangalore of old! But if I begin to miss my Bangalore in this post, it would be hard to stop me. Let that be for another rainy day, as I sit cuddled in a chair with a hot cup of coffee, and a book and I stare into the trees around my house sing to the tune of the breeze. Now isn’t the time for nostalgia.

I realized that I needed to fill diesel, and so Pamsy decided to take me to the “most honest petrol bunk” in Bangalore, right opposite Lalbagh gate. Honest or not I know not…but lazy they definitely are. Morons refused to accept the card as it was raining!!! But such minor irritants would never be able to ruin a perfect evening with the Gang. In fact the only irritant that can ruin anything with the Gang is the absence of the Gang itself. Hmm…I do not know what I am trying to convey through the previous line, but it just felt right. That is good enough for me.

Sunday was a sombre affair mostly.

That pretty much describes the weekend.

I give up!

2005-08-26T04:24:00.000-07:00

This is the tag line for a new Kannada movie that I saw near the railway station.

Love has no Reason.
Only Season.

:-)

I think this definitely beats our erstwhile top ribtickler:

It is a Musical Thunder
Something Wonder.

10000

2005-08-24T01:25:00.000-07:00

Nope, that is not the cost of the ticket that I would be purchasing for the Rahman show. More on that later.

My blog has registered 10000 hits. I do not even know how significant or relevant it is. I know that I clock a lot of those hits. But it is an important milestone indeed. Now, whether milestones themselves are important is a different matter.

When I started blogging, I had no clue why I was doing it. And I still have no clue.
I thought it would be a nice way to rant, and then eulogise, and then fictionalize, and now I do not know what exactly I have been trying to talk/write. But that isn’t surprising because I rarely know what I am thinking coherently. The operative word here is “coherently”. With the above piece of rubbish as introduction, let me present to you some more rubbish as a way of celebration.

Coffee Breaks? More like “self-inflicted torture”.
That is how this post would have been titled any other day. My cubee and I go through this ritual twice every day. And despite the obvious pains of torture, nothing seems to be deterring us. That speaks volumes about our resilience…or just the inexorable pull of the need for a coffee break.

So we go to the 5th floor pantry where the vending machine is situated. All the vending machines provide the same thing, but 5th floor is just a nice place to stare at all the…err…vast expanse of waste land abounding in Electronics City. Now we come to what exactly our vending machine spouts. Milk, black coffee, hot water. That is all. To supplement/complement this are tea bags, Bru coffee powder, Badam milk, Chocolate powder, Lemon tea powder. That is the situation we are faced with.

Day 1:
I pour the black coffee to the cup, and then add milk. Strange. This doesn’t look like the coffee that my mother makes. What are all those white dots everywhere? And why isn’t the coffee getting a “coffee colour”? Could the milk be bad? Yup, has to be.

Day 2:
Ok, it is not a problem with the milk. Not every coffee can come pockmarked. Even before I get to stir the concoction with full gusto, the particles set in. This encroachment is taking place faster than parks turning to slums in Madras.

Day 3:
Let me pour the milk, and then add the coffee. YES! So far so good. No white particles yet. Neatly stirred. But wait…wait…what the #$%$ is this?!! Why is there no lather? This looks like a stagnant pool of brown water.

At this point, I would like to bring to the kind notice of the reader that no mention of the taste of the coffee has yet been made. That is not even part of my agenda. I only strive to get a coffee-looking liquid.

Day 4:
I’ve given up on making coffee. Besides I appease my hurt ego by saying, “Anyway I can always have good Iyengar coffee at home, but tea is different. I shall make tea here.” Good choice Sridhar. Ok, now we have tea bags, milk, hot water, sugar; and these need to be mixed in some kind of combination to make tea.

I pour the milk, sugar into the cup. Then I dip the tea bag for 10 mins. Ok, the liquid is brownish in colour. Looks almost like tea. Taste? Yeuuuuuuuuck. Cold dishwater!

Day 5:
I guess the cold milk made the tea taste bad. Today I shall not dip for so long; just quick dips and then drink. But why the heck does the liquid look so whitish! In fact one would have to stretch his colour recognition system to the maximum to even declare that the colour is brown.

Day 6:
Someone points out the fact that the hot water is there for a reason. Ahhhh…so today I dip the bags (yes, bags. I presume that 2 tea bags would give me a higher chance of getting to tea-colour) into the hot water. Perfect. The water looks just like tea, and very strong at that. Now I add milk and sugar, and stir. Uhmmmm…well now the colour isn’t as pleasing as it was before. I begin to doubt whether the previous complexion was just a mirage. This liquid looks and tastes like my Day 4 experiment.

Day 7:
After a lot of thinking over the weekend, I decide that what is missing is the “strength” in the tea. The essence is just not enough, despite squeezing the last juice of the tea bag. So there is only one logical step to be followed after this. And I do that. I carefully prise out the staple tying the tea bag, and drop the particles inside directly into the milk. Obviously nothing can get stronger than this. Right??? WRONG!!! The damn thing tastes like Horlicks…no jokes! And what is even worse was the fact that the liquid was yellow in colour. Hello!!! Shouldn’t there be a brown colour somewhere in the mix???

Day 8:
This would be today. I have been thinking about the failed “opening tea-bag experience”. Why didn’t the particles cause the colour to appear? Duh…simple answer. Obviously the tea bags are the one responsible for the brown colour. Simple logic. (pat on the back) So that is what I plan on doing today when I go at 3 PM to celebrate my 10000th post with a coffee/tea break. I shall take the tea particles out, just dip the empty bag for a few minutes. And then I shall drink the tea-like looking liquid. I don’t think I can fail this time. Nope, not this time. I am sure…I guess.

Enjoy your break.

Bangalore Concert ticket rates

2005-08-22T23:18:00.000-07:00

I received a mail from DD detailing the ticket rates for the Rahman concert in Bangalore. If these are the confirmed rates, it poses quite a conundrum...for a variety of reasons.

Rs.9,999/- (VVIP)

Rs.5,999/- (VIP)

Rs.2,499/- (Seating)

Rs.999/- (Standing)

Rs.499/- (Standing)

Hmm...a lot of thinking needs to be done. Tickets apparently will be available from September 1st.

How high a price?!

2005-08-18T21:50:00.000-07:00

I was reading Kaps’ post on the Rahman concert in Singapore and the exorbitant prices of the tickets. That made me wonder, “What price would be considered too high to attend a Rahman concert!” And, of course, it led me to think about my great adventure. I obviously cannot answer the price question for others, but I surely can for myself. So here is that sequence of events. :-)
[Note: There is not the slightest bit of exaggeration in any of the events.]

Jan 2003:
After hearing news about an A R Rahman concert in Madras, I spend the entire day jumping around in joy...that is before I call up my aunt in Madras to book the ticket. Turns out that even Avi & GD want to attend the concert. So I call her up and change it to 3 tickets. The next day I have the tickets in my possession, and life is great. The concert is scheduled to happen on Feb 21st, 6:30 PM. It is a Friday, but that isn’t too much of a problem – I easily get my leave application approved.

Feb 2003:
The D-Day nears, and the excitement is so damn palpable. It is the first week of Feb, and I am working with some code, when I get a phone call from my mother. This is how the conversation went:
Mom: “Sridhar, you’ve got the date for your IIM Ahmedabad interview”
Me: “Oh ok. When is it?”
Mom: “Feb 22nd. IIM B campus”
Me: “22nd…hmm…ok.”
Mom: “So, shall I ask Radha (my aunt) to sell the tickets?”
Me (to myself): “@#$%$#%#$%$#%”
Me (to Mom): “Huh??? WHY?!!!”
Mom: “Concert is on 21st night. Madras. Interview on 22nd morning. Bangalore.”
Me: “So?”
Mom: “So…is it ok if I ask her to sell your ticket alone? I guess Avinash & GD would still be going.”
Me: “Oh god! Why are you complicating matters! Ok fine…don’t get tense. Let me check the IIMA website whether they have a provision to change dates.”
(I go to www.nba.com, look at the latest scores)
Me: “Ma. The site has nothing on changing dates. It is ok, the B & C dates are sometime in March, I will attend those. Chuck this…fine?”
(silence at the other end)
(more silence)
Me: “Ma?”
Mom: “You have no seriousness in life. You do not know your priorities. You talk to your dad. I am fed up with you.” (bangs the phone down hard)

Fifteen minutes later, dad is on the phone.
Dad: “Sridhar?”
Me: “Ah..appa. Why is mother acting like this? It is just one institute’s interview. There are 5 more anyway. I hope you told her to relax a bit.”
(silence at the other end)
Me: “Appa???”
Dad: “Dei. I can’t let you do this. You are attending the interview. I do not give a damn about the concert!”
Me: “But appa, I don’t give a damn about the interview. Not one bit. I will go for the concert. I don’t see how you can actually stop me…”
Dad: “No da, this is not right. This is not the right behaviour.”
Me: “Hmm…ok fine fine. Give me time till tonight, I shall try coming up with some idea. Ok?”
Dad: “………..Ok. But interview…IS…MUST!”

An hour later with GD, Avi & Hebbar at the cafeteria over coffee.
Avi: “Chilli, what is wrong with you da?”
Hebbar: “Seriously!”
GD: “You must attend the interview dude…”
Me: “People! What is wrong with the whole damn world? I am attending the concert. Now come up with some idea that will rope in the stupid interview as well…”
(people thinking)
Avi: “Chilli…I will feel guilty even if we do come up with a plan. Chuck the concert da. It will be too hectic anyway. You can…”
Me: “Shut up! Let me think”
(only me thinking)
Me: “Crap. It is so easy. The concert begins at 6:30 or so. It should end by 10:30 or so. Let us go by car to Madras. Then, as soon as the concert ends, drive back to Bangalore. We should be back here by 7 AM, even after taking into account night driving. The moronic crap is only at 9:30 or so. So that gives me enough time to get ready.”
Avi, GD, Hebbar (in unison): “YOU HAVE LOST IT. ARE YOU MAD???”
Me: “Nope. This will work.”

After another argument with mom, dad I get their approval albeit reluctantly. The only victory from their side was that they would send the driver along. That was fine. Big battles are won with few injuries. :)

Feb 21st 2003:
Concert begins at 7:30 PM. I scream my lungs out, despite repeated requests/orders from Avi & GD to keep my voice down and preserve it for the interview. All that I could think then was, “What interview!”.

The God’s show ends at 12:30. Only a slight delay of 2 hours. I have a lot of faith in our driver. He takes us back to Bangalore by 7:30. And then I am all set to go for the interview.

Oh crap, I had forgotten to fill the form with those stupid essays. I complete that in half an hour. And I am all set to go when I am hit with my next hurdle – a big one at that. I seem to have lost my voice! I am able to speak at the teeniest of decibels. I prepare hard to get my voice back in the drive to the interview venue. Of course, no luck. :)

The GD happens with me “screaming” my lungs out. Well, the effort was equivalent to that of screaming, but in reality I was barely above a whisper. So that is the obvious question in the interview. So I tell them the reason. The absolute truth. “Yup the concert was more important. What exactly is your point?” :)))

Of course, I didn’t get in to IIMA. If I had, I would have had more doubts on the selection process than I actually do now. But big deal.

And that high is the price I was ready to pay for the concert. :D

(All comments on focus, career, life, etc and how I disregarded them are most welcome. I have heard them a million times from others. But it is always fun to read some more. Hehehe!)

“I hit the post”

2005-08-17T23:13:00.000-07:00

Yup, that was the only line I wanted my post to have. But since a lot of things have happened in the past 5 days, I need to club all of them together.
(Warning: As always, there would be cryptic messages entwined somewhere)

“I hit the goal post.” Damn!
(This is a reference to the first shuffling thought in my previous post. Hope that clears things up.)

“Balderdash to my next Big Decision.” Crap!
I tried my best, I swear. But I wasn’t able to stick to it. And I don’t think I would be able to in the future as well. So I am back to one Big Decision, and that is working right as I need it to.

“I feel like slapping you.” Hmm…
One of the offshoots of me not sticking to my “decision”. Thank god for that. I did whatever I could to help. And I think it helped. That made me happy…heck…very very happy. That is incentive enough.

“We have no right to crib.” Very true.
Had been to the Parade Grounds on Independence Day. The joy in the faces of the visually impaired kids on receiving the trophy for the best marchers. *sigh* No words to describe that. Only I repeat, “no damn right to crib about anything.”

All this and a lot more fire-fighting needs to be done.
[END OF CRYPTIC PART]

Now that the presentation is out of the way, I need to work on completing a story that has been gathering dust. I also need to work on the next installment of the Electric Man. And I need to meet up with a friend who has finally got back to Bangalore, and would rejoin the Gang. Nice things to look forward to.

Oh by the way, my mother forced me to show her the two short stories I had written (thanks to some distant relation!). And she is disappointed. Finds them too bleak, black, dark, etc. :))

Shuffling Thoughts

2005-08-11T22:04:00.000-07:00

I have a presentation coming up on Tuesday. My cubees report that the expectations are huge because of some excellent work done by the others. Apparently the bar has been raised. Here is what I say to them:

I like football. I don’t like rugby. So, it is always under the bar. Never over it.
:-)

(shuffle)

Warne has 600 wickets in Test cricket. He is proclaimed the greatest bowler ever. And all that I can think is, “Yikes!!”
Are they talking about the same Shane Warne who has been regularly having his ass whipped by the Indian batsmen?
The same Warne who has managed to grab a total of 43 wickets against the Indians in 14 matches at an average of 47.18?
The same Warne who has 162 wickets in 42 Test matches against teams that play spin reasonably well (Ind, Pak, SL) and a whopping 438 wickets in 83 matches against teams that have no clue whatsoever?
The same Warne who has taken more number of matches, overs, deliveries to reach the important milestones than Muralitharan?

I guess this is some other Shane Warne that all the journalists are celebrating. Can’t be the one I have seen play.

(shuffle)

How many times have you heard/read this: “Politician X” and “honesty” are words that can never appear in the same sentence. I’ve seen a lot of such sentences, and frequently as well, and they seem to be on the rise nowadays. I have just one question:
What the heck is that supposed to mean? Hasn’t anyone ever heard of some thing called NEGATION?! Or, at the very least, a simple English word – “NOT”?!
Even forgiving all that, hasn't that person just used it in his "same sentence"?

I just want to know who comes up with these “clever” ideas. Even if it did sound novel and remotely funny when it was initially used, didn’t anyone get bored with the lack of refreshing novelty, and the obvious fallacy in this wordplay!

(shuffle)

Never mind. Among all these flying thoughts comes the ray of hope of a 3-day weekend. I hope it is relaxing, though I doubt it.

Weird!

2005-08-09T01:59:00.000-07:00

You know it has all the makings of a weird conversation when Rajjo and I begin discussing about the NBA. That is precisely what happened last night.

After being offline for two days due to a broadband outage, I was able to finally log on to MSN last night. The centerpiece of the conversation rested on Garnett’s rumoured move to the Pistons, Lakers’ chance of winning a championship with/without Kobe and Shaq’s magnanimity in accepting a pay cut (oh he is getting a paltry 100 million dollars over the next 5 years!). Then a few more minutes spent on why Shaq wasn’t as selfish as Kobe, and of course, that had to lead the obvious mention of how Kobe, being a perimeter player, had more opportunity to be selfish, while “poor” Shaq had to rely on the guards to feed him the ball.

I repeat this was a conversation between me and Rajjo. It is nothing but craziness upped to the nth degree. Or to clarify, hearing Rajjo talk about basketball was “weird and fun” at the same time. :) And as he put it, the same struck him when…oh never mind!

The NBA talk was sandwiched between discussions on the general goings-on of the Gang. One of the points that was talked about a lot made me realize that, what I had been attempting to do the past week or so was indeed the right thing. Which is why I have even made it my Next Big Decision. Rajjo even empathized with the whole situation and called my decision “truly noble”! :) Actually he called me “truly noble”, but factoring his innate possible sarcasm, I coolly transferred that nobility to my new decision. Never hurts to be safe.

The way I see it, this brand new decision of mine turns out to make everybody a winner. The others don’t need to feel bad for what they are doing. I don’t need to feel bad for being cursed to recognize when the others do the “bad thing”. Anything that preempts a feeling of “badness” has to be a great thing…fine, atleast reasonable good. And that is how everyone wins.
(The Devil might understand this better after I made him the first subject of my decision)

[I need to create a topic called Cryptic for my posts, and spare the other readers this torture]

On to even better news, Achuth should be coming soon to Bangalore. It has been 8 years since he lived here properly. Let’s hope this stay is even longer and fruitful. Oh yes, I also speak from a purely selfish point of having another friend back in town.

Now, let me get back to work. Damn!

Chakku 26

2005-08-05T11:49:00.000-07:00

What connects Agatha Christie, Dr. Seuss, Badal Sircar & Sunil Gangopadhyay? Great authors? Some might say so, but not in my book. Then, what makes me tie them in the same sentence.

It has to do with the man in today’s spotlight. He has acted in a play by each of the above mentioned authors.

When he is not busy with his theatre work, he also dons the cap of the “CEO” of his company, and in between all this he manages to roam around with the ladies. Honestly, I found the writing of the above sentence so damn tedious… I wonder how he manages to actually execute the meaning. :)

I first met him in 1995. We were all cycling back home and pushing the cycles up a particularly painful incline. The moron that I was, and still am, mentioned, “Gawd! Why is it so tough?” and he went on to explain gravity, trigonometry, calculus, mechanics and other assorted babble. And thus began with the journey with Chakku.

You have people in the world who are not brainy, but unfortunately are always cursed to be called so. And then you have other geniuses who “wear their brain on their mouth” (pardon that crude euphemism), and never seem to realize that the rest of the world could actually be so dumb. Chakku belongs to the latter category. An absolute genius.

Memories of him solving physics problems in the bus, while Rajjo and I gladly waited to copy them are numerous. In fact, make that “solving X problems” where X could be any subject under the sun.

Some other memories of Chakku include the bright blue Bajaj Sunny of his which needed to be pushed more distance than it actually went on its own. Oh, how can one forget his reply to the waiter at a restaurant who asked him, “Your good name sir?” (chakku’s response was, “Lunch!”)

There are a few incidents that he would never want to be made public, and I shall honour his sentiment.
Hmm…actually I need to at least drop a hint for the guys in the Gang who should know what I am talking about. “KFC. Aja.” – enough said! :))
Another incident would be the infamous Symphony theatre incident when we guys had gone to watch Lethal Weapon 4. “You think only you can say @#$%, even I can say, @#$%, here take this you #$%^.” :-)

Guys who’ve studied in Bangalore would know of the famous Krishna Xerox or Classic Xerox. But one of the best-kept secrets in North Bangalore was Chakku’s Notes. He had methodically solved all papers of all subjects of all universities of all years of all…whew!...you get the point. This explains the meager 80% he got in each semester of his engineering. (if he had stuck only to his branch, the aggregate would be in the high 90s)

Right now his life revolves around girls, more girls, and a few more unseen girls. Despite all that, he is always there to be with the Gang…well almost always. Hehe!

Despite having diametrically opposite reading tastes, I still discuss a lot on books with him, especially the Barber Chronicles, Why the Dog didn’t pee, and other such books. But that is what makes it all the more fun to hang out with him, and a great friend as well.

Have a great year pal! In his own style,
“Ladies and Gentlemen let's wish a very Happy Birthday to Dhimant aka Chakku aka Dhi Only One aka CEO."

Always.

;-)

"Look ma, a 25-year old kid!"

2005-08-04T11:31:00.000-07:00

Every Gang should have a funny guy. This is one of the first laws of “gang formation”.
Every Gang should have a “kid” who gets ragged incessantly about his age. This is another law.

What we didn’t bargain for was the fact that both the “kid” & the “clown” were the same person.

Not that we guys complained. It gives a good opportunity for the guy with a seemingly infinite laughing stock, to be the “laughing stock” as well. And he is the one in the limelight today.

Before you think that I am just being overly gracious to someone on his special day, sample these:
It was the last ball of a cricket match. The batting team needed 4 runs to win. The bowler and the captain are having a long discussion. Then the bowler heads to his run-up. He charges down the ground, and when he nears the pitch, throws an egg and a mango. The game is won by the fielding team!!!! Any idea why?
The bowler did ANDA AAM bowling!

Music quiz question: In a carnatic concert, what is the first performance that is done on the stage called?
His answer: Mike testing

I could go on and list a few million more jokes of his. But that would be plagiarized by joke-book writers.

Of course, there are a few times when his humour can be a tad infantile (e.g. The post-dinner sound effects in the car), but that is just he being his age. He is the youngest of our Gang, and that entails him to have a few benefits, one of them being the person to gift the bouquets. In fact, ever since he bought a bouquet for his beloved HOD in college, that tag has stuck around with him. Even recently, he was the flag bearer of the contingent that was to greet a baby on its first birthday. The Gang always believes in “horses for courses” or “babies for crèches”.

Now we come to another facet of his life, the one that gives me the shivers when I begin to write it. I just wish I write this fast enough before the sledgehammer gets me on its downswing (the identity of the person holding the hammer will not be revealed). Kiddo is pretty well known for his “backstabbing” (more like “pecking”, but I have been forbidden to use this word, and even more so when it is appended to the name of a bird). It all began with him dumping poor Bandhar’s old scooter to get a lift in a brand new bike. Then he did the same to Avi’s Splendor to jump onto Clangorous’ Calibre.

But all those were pinpricks compared to his “unkindest cut of all”. The victim was yours truly. (I need to take a break as the enormity of his lies attempt to sink in yet again…sigh!)

It has to do with a notable achievement/failure (depending on which side of the God-mortals fence you are on) of his has happened in the past few months. It must be truly disappointing/heartening to see a God fall into the dredges of mortals. Fine, I shall stop here regarding this matter before I am bludgeoned to near-death by his “Mary”. :)))

Perhaps I shouldn’t be making fun of his appetite here, but what the heck! I have come so far, I might as well earn the full wrath. Make no mistake, Kiddo must have eaten more spoonfuls of food than any other man on earth. It is only that his spoonful can be measured only with the help of a pipette. I am being totally honest when I say that my one month old nephew eats more Cerelac per spoon than Kiddo does now. ;-)

On to other less controversial things, he is a self-proclaimed fan of Hitler (!), soccer-crazy (esp. Arsenal, England, Real Madrid, Liverpool,…), erstwhile fan of both cricket and Anil Kumble, F1-hater turned lover for reasons that sound as lame as…well…his lies. :)

Well, all this and more is what Akshai stands for. One of my closest friends for the past 10 years, though it seems like I’ve known him for eternity! And he turns 25 today…I think. I mean, I have doubts on the 25 part, it could be 11, 12, 17 or maybe, just maybe, 25. :)

Here’s wishing Akshai aka Kiddo aka Mafia the very best of birthdays and an eventful year. Have fun dude.

Let me end this wish with another joke of his:
Inder: “Hope Achuth gets some chocolates from Switzerland…and a Swiss babe as well!!”
Akshai: “What sort of a jump is that? From Lindt to Linda!”

:-)

Adventures of Electric Man - Part II: The Ground Point Problem

2005-08-02T11:46:00.000-07:00

It was a typical day in the Electric Man’s life. Forgive me if you’ve heard this before. It had the usual “juicing up the circuits”, “cross-tunneling the ventilating shafts of semi-conductor hyperboles”, and other similar electrical, electronic, nano-technological tomfoolery.

Yes, the author knows that he has indeed missed out on a lot of other subjects that were key participants to the tomfoolery. But that is purely from an absolute lack of knowledge of their spellings, and, in the cases of known spellings, prevented by IPR issues.

Did I say typical? Well, it was almost typical. Our hero had just stepped onto the igneous, metamorphic, soil of Sweden. The first words out of his mouth on breathing the air was, “Ahh…is there anything that Mother Nature can give us more refreshing than this eclectic mix of Oxygen, Nitrogen, Carbon Di-oxide, 1,2,3 – dithanolformalethanaldehyde-ol.?” Having said that, he grabbed his luggage which consisted of a pair of jeans, a tight T-shirt, a few hygrometers (nope they aren’t used to measure the length of aquatic plants), a few more barometers…well basically a mini-lab and of course his trusted weapon – the Multimeter.

The Electric Man’s eyes swept pass the horizon trying to look for something. Normally the sight of this gave him the confidence to conquer any case that is put at his feet. So, he looked beyond all the incredibly hot bikini-clad babes, supermodels, hookers (err…this was off-limits to him since he still hadn’t celebrated his 18th birthday in his customary style of cutting off the oxygen supply to a lighting implement made of wax – in our world, “blowing the candle”). There it was – the electric transformer for the town of Link-o-pimpie.

Our hero made his way to that paradise, but only after rebuking his assistant. “You told me the town’s name was Link=o=pimpie!! I had come prepared with a strategy for the double-bonds between the names. And here I see that it is just Link-o-pimpie. Minri! If I hadn’t noticed the demotion of the bonds, I could have blown up this town.”

The people at the power station had been cracking their heads over a mind boggling problem. The author does realize that “head cracking” is always attempted on “mind boggling” problems, but he is just unable to break out of the cliché.

The problem was that all the residents but one used electric razors. This one exception, in a devious plan to have a sighting of his idol – The Electric Man, refused to use any blade for shaving apart from Wilkinson Sword. Just like in any other town with an inane name such as o-pimpie, the others also decided to use this primitive shaving system. In fact they are so primitive that they had been antiquated during the times of Veda Vyasa. Vyasa himself had switched to the Gilette blades, and his experiences on these blades were published under the now famous title “The Mach-a-bharatha”.

The lack of usage of electric razors meant a sudden dip in power usage, and that caused the transformer to sulk. Its point was simple. Since no one respected it anymore, it would no longer have any moral ground to stand on when it had its usual overhead transmission conversations.

All things came to a standstill as Electric Man approached the transformer. Conversation dulled to a steady barely audible buzz. (Note: The author thinks that this buzz could be just the generator, but the author isn’t Electric Man. So he shall shut up and just report)

“I see that you refuse to transmit”
“Bzzzzzzz”
“Bzzzz bzzz bzzzzzzzzzz” [Later, in a special interview with the author, Electric Man explained that this is the Electric Morse Code he had developed, and gave this privileged author the decoded conversation transcript]
(No bad words please)
“Bzzzzzzz” [Again, even after decoding, the transformer’s noise seemed to be the same. So it is being reproduced here in its entireity]
“You can insult me. Heck, you can even make fun of my tight t-shirt. But dare not insult my multi-meter”
“Bz….”
“Blagggggaaard. Shut up. The point you make is ridiculous. It can fool Nobel prize winners, but not me.”
“…”
“Holy Ampere! You challenge me? Fine, here it is. Don’t you see that you are not suspended in air, but installed on the ground? Yes, you do. So what happens to your point on not having any ground to stand on. Hahahahaha” [Author likes to mention that the laughter was filled with a bit of static]
(silence from the transformer)
“In effect, I HAVE TAKEN AWAY THE GROUND POINT.”

And the rest is history. As you all know, all Indians who travel to Sweden make it a point to remove the ground point to preempt any sulking from the electrical appliances.

All thanks to our hero. And this was just a small breeze in his nonchalant wafting through the history of time, continents as the legend – The Electric Man.

This the second edition of this legend's tales. The first is here. More tales will hit your screens soon. :)

“Scandal in Bohemia”

2005-07-30T12:31:00.000-07:00

I guess most of us know this story about one of the rare Sherlock Holmes’ failure. The way he was outwitted by Irene Adler in SiB is a classic. Well, this Saturday was pretty much the same to me.

What started out as a trap set for another friend of mine, turned out to be one that blew up in my face. In fact, I had written an entire post on that trap, and decided to finish it once the final scene had been enacted. Well, after how the trap unraveled, that post is never going to see the light of day. “Shift-delete. Yes.” Now, to begin afresh.

I set up a “brilliant” plot to pull a fast one on Kiddo 2. And the main instrument in this was to be the girl (whose name I do not yet have the authority to mention) who was responsible for the “fallen co-God”. Somewhere along the line, I turned out to be the messee, instead of the messer. Of course, the architect for this turn-around was the just-mentioned girl. I have no idea about the details on when exactly I was being steered to the conclusion that she aimed for, but it was a fun ride this week. As I read the last few lines I’ve written, I realize it is possible to do so without a wince, and that I think is definitive proof that it was fun for me as well. Heck, let me becoming the victim of this trap be my birthday gift to her, which incidentally fell on the 28th. :) (Yup. I found another silver lining - no need to waste money. Hehe!)

So, apparently my ex-co-God has captured all my emotions of elation, sympathy, laughter and shock on the camera. I need to see that. Possibly the gamut of emotions would be an appropriate fore-runner for a post I’ve been planning for some time. (and nope eV, it is not Story – 3 I am talking about. Hold your horses. Too many events on Saturday.)

Another event before the “final scene enacting” was showing some of the old photos in my comp to her. Amidst all the laughs at her Kiddo’s hairstyle in 12th, came a few more funny moments, and a somber moment as well. Things that make me realize why I have so much fun with my old friends, and a few things that make me ache. Now when I sit down to ruminate and type this, I realize these “aching” things are the ones that provide substance to my stand of remaining a God. These make me realize that even sorrow can be satisfying. I know, sounds weird. But that is what I felt. To use a Stephen King-esque metaphor, you may have to open a few boxes despite knowing there are monsters inside them. These monsters are going to be there for the rest of the life. You might as well get acquainted and like them. Yup, this is the monster that gives me a reason to stay a God. For life. I long for it.

(Ok, the last paragraph on the photo-viewing event might go over most heads. But the Gang should be able to comprehend.)

Oh btw, the events of the day weren’t over yet. After a coffee with the ex-God-couple, I went to watch Anniyan – with my parents. The second time was even better. My father and I are big fans of Sujatha’s dialogues, and this movie was a treat for us. And yes, Sadha still looks crappy (sorry Pamsy). :))

And that was Saturday. Phew!

Tea in Coffee Shops

2005-07-26T02:28:00.000-07:00

After 2 short stories that were given a tremendous reception (yup, I suffer from delusions of grandeur) and God’s music that threatened to usurp my mind, I am back with…not another story. This one of my pet peeves – coffee shops. More specifically, tea in coffee shops.

How is that worse than the coffee in coffee houses, you may ask? Here is the answer: that is not coffee. Nope, not to me. But let that aside, and get to the topic for today.

When I order for tea, the least I expect is a refreshing beverage that I can drink. Giving me milk, a tea bag and sugar cubes isn’t what I want. I am paying good money to drink the tea which these people give, then why the heck do I have to prepare the damn tea myself! I might as well go to the next door Foodworld, buy all the ingredients and sit at home drinking the crappy tea that I prepare. There is a reason we order tea, and it is partly because we are lazy/incapable of preparing it.

You would have noticed that I haven’t even spoken about taste in my expectations. For that I need to go to some other places, you know the numerous Darshinis, Sahyadris, and Sagars that thrive in Bangalore. It hurts me to pay just five rupees and get wonderful “already prepared” steaming tea at these places. I mean, what is preventing these guys as well from charging me 30 bucks!

And the teabags! I do not think there has been a worse invention than this. I try dipping the tea for 15 minutes to squeeze out every ounce of its essence. Once that is done, I realize that the milk is cold. Ok, the next time I dip real quick, squeeze the bag with the forceps and what do I get? – hot milk with a tinge of the tea flavour. If cows chewed on tea leaves, the milk gushing out would have more tea than my concoction.

A few coffee shops have now come up with the idea of straining the tea leaves. Fine idea, but why do I need to be given the strainer and leaves. It sounds like, “Here. We did our best to give you something resembling tea. But we aren’t sure. So go ahead, be my guest and strain some more.” All this is just an easy way for these coffee shops to escape responsibility. It removes the scope for any more “fly-in-tea” jokes.
Or if the jokes do happen, it isn’t funny.

Customer: “Waiter, there is a mosquito in my tea.”
Waiter: “So, didn’t you make it? Be careful the next time”

Customer: “The tea is too milky.”
Waiter: “Are you a moron? Don’t you know the right proportions for preparing tea? Get lost”

Ok, I can foresee two possible lines of defence from the pro-coffee-shoppers.
1) Do not generalize. There are a lot of us who like it the way it is, and we make really good tea.
Fine. But that still doesn’t give the shop any right to expect me to prepare the tea. Why isn’t there a ready made option for us losers who really can’t make a simple thing as tea! After all, if it is that simple, what is hurting them from making it???

2) It is all about customization. The customer is king. You make your tea the way you like it.
Oh I see. Very smart. So, here is a possible situation 5 years down the line.

Coffee Shop Guy: “Good Evening O Lord of the light!”
Me: “So, I would like a cup of tea.”
CSG: “Would that be plastic or clay?”
Me: “clay??? Since when did that become a monetary exchange unit…”
CSG: “Oh no esteemed sir! I was asking you whether you would prefer a clay cup or a plastic cup.”
Me: “Clay cup” (apprehensively)
CSG: “That’s great. Please step into this room sir. There is your seat for the potter’s wheel. The clay is right next to you. Please feel free to mould the kind of cup that suits you. We also let you make it as ornate as possible. Once you are done, the next room has the kiln where the cup would be finally hardened. While you are waiting for this to happen, please take the private jet at the patio to visit our tea estate and pluck the tea leaves that you prefer…
…
…
There sir, please enjoy your tea. Everything that has gone behind making this cup of tea is your effort. We believe in utmost customer satisfaction. Have a nice day.
Oh also, would you like to sit on a coir mat or …”

I flee to the end of the world.
Or the nearest Nair tea shop.

By the way, the 5 year prophecy isn’t totally away from the mark. So, people beware!

A Aa (Anbe Aaruyire) by God (who else!)

2005-07-21T23:17:00.000-07:00

A Aa - the first 2 letters of the Tamil alphabet (of for that matter for most languages) - is Rahman's latest release. It stands for Anbe Aaruyire.

Wow! My pick of the album is God's own Anbe Aaruyire. I can wax eloquent on his voice, style, music, genius, etc...but words fail me when I listen to his songs. I need to shut my Winamp or iPod to even think clearly. But do I want to do it? Nope! Never!!

Just listen to the genius at work. Everything in life is just the supporting cast.

Feebler Attempt: Short Story 2

2005-07-20T04:36:00.000-07:00

“DECENT PAY & EASY JOB. MUST BE BLIND, AND WITH GOOD HEARING”
“FOOD & SHELTER PROVIDED”

This was a poster that seemed to be following him the entire day. He had seen the first one just as he left home for work. He snickered at the brazen arrogance. His “home” was a cardboard box which seemed to have an identity crisis. The direction that his home wanted to face created a problem whenever it rained. But who was he to change the “THIS SIDE UP”. His mother had always told him that he was a “dimwit” – someone who needs to shut his mouth, and just do as the world orders. She wasn’t there anymore, but her words still were.

Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. Heck, he wasn’t even sure what he thought were actually “thoughts”. His mother had been sure on that count as well – no thinking. He bent down to forage the garbage and look for some bottles, paper bags, plastic, anything that would sustain his solitary meal of bread & wine. That was his “work”. He snickered again.

But the poster kept pulling his eyes and thoughts. He read it a few more times and a cheery grin appeared as the obvious irony struck him. How can a blind person read this poster?! Yuck yuck yuck. He doubled up. This laughter was so different from his usual giggling. In fact, he had forgotten to laugh for quite some time. A burn in the forearm was never the price to pay for a fun-filled, hassle-free, full-throated laugh. Oh no. Surely not. Another thing the credit of which goes to his mother. But if only his mother had seen the look on his scarred face now. Maybe, just maybe, she might not have left him in the train. Just maybe.

It always amazed him as to how he could pick up the alphabets so easily, speak so clearly, and still be tagged a retard. Maybe God had something special waiting for him. He believed in that more than anything else. Could this poster be that? Food, a roof, money…what more did he need! He could do any easy job. He had very good hearing. All looked rosy, except for the blind part. Damn! Why couldn’t have God withheld his eyes along with his brain while making him?

He was about to move on to the next bin, when a thought struck him. Talk about lightning striking the same place more than once. What if he could pretend to be blind? Who is to know? Anyway, who would bother about a could-be-blind retard? Also, if they do call his blind man’s bluff, nothing much can happen. So he scrutinized the poster more closely to find out the address. That was just a few streets away. He decided to leave right away, and begin his blind man impersonation.

It was a huge building. Not many people around. The guard at the gate signaled him to stop. He continued walking, oblivious to the check. Damn, I should have got a cane! But it was too late to think about that now. He walked awkwardly to the sound of the now shouting guard, and told him his business. The guard just asked him to walk on to the inner gate, without even as much as a cursory glance. So far so good. Same procedure at the inner gate, and from there he was escorted to a scary looking man.

He shut his eyes completely not wanting to give himself away. The man’s voice was a contrast to his huge frame.
“So, you are here for the job eh?”
“Yessir. I have very good hearing…can hear from 50 feet”.
“Once you accept this job, you will not be allowed to leave this building. But all your comforts would be taken care of. Is that fine?”
“Er…”
“Never mind. Let me show you your lodgi…I am sorry, how insensitive of me! Let me take you to your lodgings, and you decide for yourself”

They walked through a maze of corridors before the scary-looking man stopped in front of a door. He took his hand, and made him feel the number – 270. He then pushed open the door, and led him in.

Frankly, it was indeed a surprise how the scary-looking man did not hear the gasp that escaped his throat. This was like a palace compared to his earlier “home”. He pretended to feel the walls and the bed, and then beamed in delight, which definitely was not pretense. Not by a mile.

“Now, let me take you to your work-station. It is a simple route that we’ve designed to help you reach without any trouble”

True to his word, he led him a few hundred metres and then they reached a dark place which seemed to be filled with a thunderous roar of water. By now, he had shut his eyes completely. The attraction of his possible new home had that effect. He wanted this job badly, and was ready to keep up his pretense till he had sealed the deal.

The scary-looking, but sweet-sounding man seated him on a chair. He then made him touch a panel and a switch next to it. His job was simple. He had these headphones on, through which he had to listen keenly. When he heard some water splattering, he needed to get ready. Once it stopped, he had to just push the switch for 5 seconds and release it. Simple enough. He mastered it in a few tries. Life was going to be peaceful. Thank you god.

A few hours later, the scary-looking man was talking to his boss.
“Sir, any news on the request?”
“Nope. It has been turned down. The government thinks it would be bad PR if we converted all the video cameras to audio sensors now.”
“But sir…that technology hadn’t been tested when we installed the systems. Shouldn’t we…”
“They’ve said No. And that means no. Nothing much can be done.”
“…..”
“So, any new joinees?”
“Yes sir, one a few hours back.”
“Has he been…”
“I was hoping to delay it…you know…if the audio sensors can be installed…maybe…we don’t have to…”
“That’s out of the question now. I can empathise, but that’s life. And business. Things might have been different if we had managed to acquire discarded microphones, instead of web-cameras. But you got to take what you get. Just cop it.”
“So…do I?”
“We cannot afford to be lax. Not once.”

An hour later, the scary-looking man takes out the screwdriver, gouges both the eyes of the vagabond of 270, cauterizes him, and grants him a week of bed rest. A week later, inmate at 270 is all set to perform his duties at the workstation room.

These were the workstations which controlled all the “automatic” loos across the town.
______________

Author's Note: This is not inspired from any tale. If you think it is so, please tell me. I shall file a lawsuit against them.
:)

Feeble Attempt: Short Story

2005-07-19T04:12:00.000-07:00

The man in the blue shirt hesitated a bit. Was there someone calling him? He turned around. Nope. The lady in the blue dress continued to remain engrossed in her book. There wasn’t any one else in the vicinity apart from that mangy dog, but he was pretty sure that the call (if there had been) wasn’t from that source.

The lady felt the slightest bit of wind on her cheek, and as she looked up from the Harry Potter book she was reading to brush the strand of hair attempting to get into her eye, she saw a man in a blue shirt look away. Was he staring at me? Can’t be sure. He did remind her of somebody though – her old neighbour. Or should it be her neighbour of old. Whatever. Thoughts of her neighbour always raised her hackles.

He had seemed like this incredibly nice chap with a happy family. Of course, such a view was hard to persist with after he chain sawed his family one night. Too many things in his mind. It’s obviously hard to remain sane when you know that your best friend had just poisoned your family. A poison that doesn’t even work like normal ones – and that was the tragedy! Surprisingly. No, all this poison did was to remove the last vestiges of humaneness in any human. Living with mechanical people isn’t too much fun. But what warranted the massacre was the fact that these “people” could spread this at will. He was about to get to his friend as well. He had conjured up these images of a gruesome slow death that would make…well…he might as well admit it…make what he went through, as he wiped out his family, as just a walk in the park. Dreams…hmmph! Of course, none of that happened as the cops got there before. His murder cycle began and ended with his family, prematurely if one may add. Couldn’t get to the friend.

Not that his friend could have been murdered. Let’s optimistically rephrase that – only his friend’s body could have been murdered. His conscience had done a good job of expunging his soul. Ironic indeed. It had created a serious conflict of interest. How could one commit suicide in order to live! He didn’t bother himself with such philosophical ruminations. Not after his dastardly acts. The first “killing” was the worst. Oh no…it was a very clean affair – so not “worst” in that sense. Even now, it amazed him to see his ego surfacing to appease his “killer” image. Isn’t it the image that woos the ego? That first “killing” was the worst simply because his human self had put up its best fight. Since then it was pretty much gravity’s way. Humaneness, just like egotism, can never be vanquished completely. He learnt that the hard way when his guilt tortured him no end after the “poisoning” of his best friend’s family. But he couldn’t stand up against the Giant.

The Giant was just a moniker. He stood 7 ft tall. He spoke softly. He spoke endearingly. All that was sweet candy. But what he spoke wasn’t. He was good at convincing people to kill others. He was very fair in his choices. There was never any discrimination regards the person who should die, and who should do the killing. In fact, he prided himself on his objectivity. He would have been a good guy, a well-respected man in society, but for the little thing of him beginning to “kill” since his childhood. As a baby, he had a stunted view of what killing was. God (if there does exist such a person) needs to be thanked for such small favours. As a baby, he had “killed” people – only they seemed so to his mind. Not that he didn’t actually hurt them. Ask the curious visitor who in the process of playfully pointing his finger at the baby’s cheek had the digit bitten to the bone. They all laughed at the baby’s supernatural teeth. Uncomfortably. It had to be uncomfortable laughter. But as he grew, so did his brain, so did his sweet talk and so did his laziness. Now he just needed to sermonize for 10 minutes, and the audience would have made up its mind on the weapon. So simple. So lazy. Of course, you do have the occasional tough nuts to crack. Like the one he just got off the phone. Phone – another piece of invention to encourage laziness and unhinder his depravity. His powers seemed to be growing at an alarming rate. The latest “to-be-killer” was able to get quite a few barks & yips out, before he silenced him with his speech. By the end of the talk, he was pretty sure that if the person at the other end had a tail, it would be wagging vigorously. He had got him so excited about this new “kill”.

He dropped the phone. His small brain managed to grasp most of what the voice at the other end wanted. The victim was a tough target. Unlike most humans, this one actually observed. So he needed to be at his utmost stealth to get the better of him. The victim seemed to have taken a liking for that girl. That was good. Mind wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Very good. And there came the 18 wheeler down the road. Excellent.

The mangy dog made a lunge at the man in blue, who went sprawling onto the hot road. Crap! How hot is this road…was his last thought as the 18-wheeler decided to give him a closer look. The lady in the blue dress didn’t look up until she noticed that her Half Blood Prince book was drenched fully in blood.
_________________________
Author's Note: The above story writing style is completely inspired from Mark Twain's short story, "The Story of the Old Ram". I couldn't help but try to write one using the same.

Kiddo 2's 25!

2005-07-17T11:31:00.000-07:00

What is the molecular structure of benzene-1, 4-dicarboxylic acid?
Is “aldehyde” a chemical compound or is it a dysfunctional literary character?
How do you differentiate between ellipses and Morse code?

Answers to all this and more can be found in most textbooks. If not, there is always Ameya.

Despite being the second youngest in our Gang, and hence nicked Kiddo 2, he possesses a brain, maturity far beyond his age. Eight years ago, he was the “father of the family” figure for our Gang. Now he is considered the “father figure” to our parents! Such is his rapid stride in this field.

I first met Ameya in 11th standard, and I was literally blown away by his escapades. The culture shock was too much for me to handle. He used to be the sole guy in a mass of 3 benches which consisted otherwise of girls – a major Classanova, if that were a word.

Since then he has been trying to undergo a image makeover to fit in with us, and one must say that he has been moderately successful. If I were to say that he could in fact turn out to occupy the position of co-God, I wouldn’t be exaggerating. But lets not talk about that, and get his focus about 180 degrees adrift.
(Note: “180 degrees”, “focus” are words that automatically creep in when talking about him. His deep technical aptitude infuses my words, albeit temporarily)

He is also the poster-boy for Protection of Indian Values, after having survived the agni-pariksha of Sweden. ;-) His control over his temper, emotions, and scientific situations is exemplary – though I might have got the order mixed up.

When most people in our Gang do not have a clear idea on where our careers are heading, he is the only one with a chalked-out plan. Rumours say that the initial draft of this plan was conceptualized in his 4th grade. Not surprising, I may add!

He turns 17…er…25 this day. Here’s wishing him a very happy birthday.
I would also like to add that no one from the Gang, I repeat, NO ONE, has gifted him a sweatshirt. :-)

I would also like to say, “Work pal. Keep working. That’s my advice.”
(Ladies, he detests the usage of the word “pal”, so kindly refrain!)

Mangal Pandey - The Rising

2005-07-16T02:14:00.000-07:00

God's latest offering. A movie on the 1857 revolt. Period movie. Nothing more to say.

Rahman & Historic movies is like...Iyengars and more kuzhambu, Bongs and rosogolla, you get the drift.

Rasiya sung by Richa Sharma and Bonnie Chakraborty is definitely the pick of the album. Can't get the damn song out of my head for the past 15 hours!

How the heck does He do it?? Well, if I had a paisa for every time I thought that...you know how it ends.

Hmm...need to stop thinking and just let it soak in and...you know the rest. I am off this place before I leave every sentence incomplete, and substitute the last few words with "ellipsis abuse".
:-)

Oh, forgot to add. Please buy the original CD/cassette. Else, you might have Rules Raman knocking at your doorsteps. :)
(I know where most of my blog-readers live)

Long forgotten book tag!

2005-07-13T00:45:00.000-07:00

It seems like it was ages ago when Other book-tagged me. So many things have happened that kept me from completing this tag. Anyway, here I am at work, with a bit of free time, and I shall complete what I had half-begun.

The Other has strictly prohibited me from mentioning any Stephen King books in this list, as he fears that would dominate the list (and rightly so). I shall answer this tag talking about only non-SK books.
(Stephen King books would be a separate post sometime soon)

Ok, now to the tag questions:

Number of books I own
Last count lost count. I had the grand plans of indexing my books when I was a kid, and even began the process – just simple indexing, nothing complicated as the Dewey Decimal – but gave up after reaching 600 books.
Right now it must be somewhere above 2000, with a lot of my old books packed somewhere.

Presently reading
Best Short Works of Mark Twain by Mark Twain
MT is one of the best authors of humour fiction. Obviously not as good as the God – Jerome K Jerome – in terms of concentrated humour, but I guess consistency would push MT much higher than JKJ.
Stories such as “Journalism in Tennessee”, “How I Edited an Agricultural Paper” are gems. American humour should be indebted forever in gratitude to this comic genius.

In the pipeline
Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens
Considered as the funniest book by CD. Some critics rate it even better than The Pickwick Papers!

The Blue God by Ramesh Menon
My blog readers would have a good knowledge about my Mahabharatha fixation. The Blue God speaks about Krishna’s life, and in some ways furnishes the missing pieces of the Mahabharatha jigsaw. I have ordered for this book, hope it is delivered soon.

Puddnhead Wilson, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Again, part of a MT purchasing binge.

Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice
Having read the first 5 of the chronicles, I really haven’t had the time to get back to them. Anne Rice’s very own stories on the Mayfair witches diverted me for a few months, before I realized that she must stick to vampires alone.

Knife of Dreams by Robert Jordan
Book 11 of the Wheel of Time series – not yet published. I hope he finishes the damn series fast.

Recently Read
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
Stunning satire on the clash of the new-world and the medieval period.

The Mahabharatha by Ramesh Menon
Enough has been written by me about this here.

The Digital Fortress by Dan Brown
A mistake. A big big mistake! Poor language, poor characterization, flimsy plot, trite writing style – you name it, this book has it all. Passages such as, “Susan began to break her head on the bug. And then recalled in amusement as to how the word ‘bug’ came into existence. In the 1970s, the first computer blah blah blah…” tested my patience to the maximum. Aargh!

Few of my favourites
(now I enter the part of the post where I need to keep my hands away from typing S-T-E-P-H-…)
The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan
Complicated plot. Brilliant characterization. Black. This is a wonderful series with just a few grouses from my side. The incredibly long time RJ is taking to finish the series, and the very hackneyed names of the titles.
Also, after having lived on a steady diet of King, the fact that not a single major character has conclusively died even after 10 books rankles me a bit. The one death of Moiraine isn’t even totally sure, with all the signs of her making/having made a return.

Three Men on the Bummel & Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome
Funniest books ever written. Period. Some of the memorable passages are:
Harris getting lost in the maze
The German railway ticketing system
Uncle Podger searching for the newspaper
“Ride zigzag in case they shoot”

The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice
There can’t be a better de-mystification of the vampire image than the one done by AR. In this second book of the Vampire Chronicles, Lestat attempts to find the origin of the vampires, and AR’s theory is very clever and thought-provoking.

Obviously, The Mahabharatha! :)

Books I Hate
Without getting into the names of any particular author, and as a result, hurting the mentioned author’s fans, I would like to state the attributes in a book that would make me hate it:
No story.
High level of abstraction, pretending to be intellectual (or as Rajjo likes to call it – “pseudo intellectual trash”)
No plot.
Banal language.
(I shall stop)

So, I have fulfilled the tag and would like to pass it on to:
Akshai
Ameya
Dhimant
Inder
Rajjo
Soldier
Kaushik (who doesn’t have a blog, and hence would have to comment it)

The Official Gang Roadtrip – 2

2005-07-11T22:57:00.000-07:00

After traveling 1500 kms in our previous roadtrip to and around Munnaar, we settled for a shorter distance, longer relaxation trip to Mudumalai this time. The Devil & Pamsy, two guys who missed out the previous roadtrip, made it for this one. Rajjo did make in a few guest appearances. But more on that later.

Participants in the trip:
Akshai aka Kiddo
Pramod aka Pamsy aka David
Kaushik aka Devil aka Shanty
Dhimant aka Chakku
Inder aka Bandhar
Ameya aka Kiddo 2 aka Science
Sridhar aka Chilli aka me
Guest appearance: Rajneesh aka Rajjo aka Cow

The seven of us left Bangalore at 4 AM on Saturday. The Scorpio is split into 3 classes – Front Seat, Middle Class – high AC, 3rd class RAC – no AC. Throughout the duration of the drive everyone had a taste of every class. And this is despite Ameya refusing to occupy any class but that that befits his stature – First!

It had been more than two years since I had driven on the road to Mysore. I remember the excitement I had those days when I saw the construction for the 4-lane highway progressing in full throttle. And this time was no different. I still felt excited as I drove through the 2/4 lane highways, in anticipation of the elusive day when the road would actually be completed.

Note: The following narrative would contain a lot of names & nicknames & tripnames. I advise the reader to keep track assiduously in order to not be left out midway. :)

Pramod had the privilege of being the first to be christened with a new nickname. His Baywatch jacket that served no perceptible purpose, other than prompting a nick out of us, was a constant source of fun whenever he did something with it. And thus was “David Hasselhoff” born. David made good of his promise to get most of the snacks, and especially ragi bread.

Here are a few memorable moments/conversations/jokes/I don’t know what the normal world calls them:

Bandhar mentioning his Hiranyakashipu resolution. “not near the trees”, “not inside”. Er…where exactly when???
Breakfast at Mysore, right in front of the zoo. We spot a giraffe, and Akshai goes, “When can we see the full animal? This is only gir-half”. :)
Loos in Mysore: For some strange reason, all restaurants keep them locked. One needs to go to the cashier, log into a register, take the key, and lock it back and return it once you are done. All this while, the cash box is pretty open to the public.
Rajjo’s 1st appearance, and not surprisingly in front of the zoo. :)
Dhimant kicking off the next leg of the trip by sporting his “trendy” shades…or so he thought. It just re-affirmed THE LOOK he is trying to run away from.
As we neared Mudumalai, Bandhar starting rattling out the right directions. For the uninformed, that is as rare as the Haley’s comet. This lead to our Karz theory. Din di din din…din di din din. (to be hummed in tune)
Masinagudi is one of the most cyber-savvy towns. Even the tailor shop is called Dot Com Tailors! The gate to the Dot Com Guest House is an abacus!
Chakku’s, “Howard Johnson?”
Six hours of absolutely wild, strategy steeped foosball. (Guys, we need to buy a table right away)
Chakku’s, “Don’t take offense” every time some one opted to chose the attacking half of the foosball table. He must consider himself very lucky that we didn’t let him rot with the flies. Speaking of which…
Flies & Chakku. :D The funniest moment of the trip. The video-clip of this particular incident is available on request, or it could be caught on “World’s most Stupid Acts” in Star World.
Akshai’s “battery snub” of Ameya. I think Kiddo 2 is still hurting. :( I was gracious enough to request Chakku to make the battery for Ameya.
My Theory on the Job/Operation.
Pamsy being berated by Kaushik for giving way to all vehicles, and then Kaushik himself getting forced off the road by a tempo.
“Kaushik, what is he doing?!!! Ask him to go. Ask him to go…please!!!”. Chakku to the Devil, when he could no longer stand the mammoth elephant a few feet away.
“Arrey saar, flash maar, flash maar”. Shantakumar, the driver of the night-safari jeep, urging Bandhar to provoke the animal.
Rajjo throwing his owner out of the cart, and charging to meet us at the Hunsur Road. As a side note, it must be added that the Devil ignored him and continued driving. :(
Me: “Something fishy is going on inside. I wouldn’t be totally surprised if either of the two open the door wrapped in a towel.” and ……… doing the exact same thing!
Ameya describing how he managed to alter the power transmission circuit in Sweden. I do not remember the details, but it had something to do with a “ground point”.
Kiddo, Chakku, Bandhar & the Devil drinking a lot of Sprite, and pretending to get sloshed. ;-)
Akshai (when down 0-3): “At 3-3, we shall change our strategy again…” We did, and we won!
Gifts that we shall be getting from Chakku by this weekend: 5 Marks & Spencer shirts, 1 Foosball table, 1 Pool table. What say? ;-)
Oh, how could I forget this? “pi pi pi piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”

That’s all the stuff I could remember off the top of my head, as more come up, I shall continue to update.

It was a great weekend. Superb time spent with the Gang.
(Now, when is that goddamn Rajjo going to get back???)

God is coming down to Bangalore!!

2005-07-08T01:57:00.000-07:00

Yippppppeeeeeeeeeeee. Woooohhooooooooooooooo!!! :))

Thanks to lazygeek, I got to know of this news.
A 3D concert of Rahman, the God of music, would happen in Bangalore on Oct 8th.

CITY	BANGALORE
DATE	SATURDAY, OCTOBER 08, 2005
VENUE	PALACE GROUND
CONTACT	Mr. RAVI RAJAGOPAL Ms. ROOPA IYER
TELEPHONE NO.	+ 91 9845657432
E-MAIL	info@indiaclassicarts.com
WEB	www.indiaclassicarts.com

Heck, I can't wait for late August, which is when the tickets would be sold.

I only hope for one thing - I do not have to go through the trials & tribulations I went through to attend his Unity of Light concert on Feb 21, 2003 in Chennai. Please, no such "tricky" decisions again! :)

Ok, I need to stop jumping. Stop.

Nope, cannot. :D

Anniyan

2005-07-03T00:41:00.000-07:00

After a lot of hassling and fighting, I finally got my chance to see Shankar’s latest movie – Anniyan. Despite having heard a lot of negatives about movie to the tune of, “It’s a rehash of all his earlier movies”, “He has just copied stunts from Matrix & Kill Bill”, etc I knew one thing for sure – I needed to see the movie for myself to make the decision. Tastes in this world are never one and the same, a good example being Gilli running for 200 odd days while Anbe Sivam struggling to hit the 100-day mark. As I came out of the theatre, there was just one thought in my mind – stunning!

If Indian talks about one man’s fight against corruption, Anniyan takes a slightly different issue. At the outset, they might seem similar, but nope! This is a movie that hits hard at public apathy. The problems that irk the protagonist are day-to-day occurrences, events that flit past our busy lives with not even a passing glance from most of us. What’s even more painful is the treatment meted out to people who do not stop with just a glance, but step down into the slush and get their hands dirty in an effort to clean the system.

Err..system is actually the wrong word here. Anniyan’s message is simple: “It is all well and fine to blame the system (govt, bureaucrats, et al). But the core of the problem lies with us. If all we are going to do is just talk about how bad this country is, how dirty the politicians are, all that your country is going to progress is zilch. We need to be active.” And by public participation, it doesn’t even talk about the noble dreams of the social service enthusiasts. Yes, those people deserve all the praise for their endeavour against the bigger issues of life. But, what Anniyan propounds is doing the small things right; things that do not require any extra-ordinary effort from our side, except the barest minimum of will to overcome the threshold of apathy, and the thickness of a skin to outlast the passing hecklers.

A classic scene in the movie when a guy is dying on the road, and Vikram (as Rules Ramanujam) tries to help him. There is this person who says, “Somebody go get a first-aid kit. Somebody go call the ambulance. Somebody go inform the police.” One question – Mr. Why don’t you do these things? Err…I just remembered that I’ve got to be elsewhere. !#$%#$^

Fine, giving the allowance that you do have a few people who wouldn’t hesitate to get into the so-called bureaucratic mess, what about the following of traffic rules? We Indians are always in a hurry. It doesn’t matter if we aren’t supposed to get onto the wrong side and zip past all the patiently waiting vehicles. It is our birthright. Hmm…no, change that. It is a sign of my incredible smartness and the absolute stupidity of the losers adhering to the traffic signal. Oh another thing…a typical response from any such person, “What’s wrong!! Look at blue-shirt, he is doing the same, look at the black-jeans, he is also doing the same…what’s the big deal if I do the same? I am in a hurry”. !#$%#$^
And what surprises me is this – We are all in such a hurry, but never do we reach any place on time. (???)

Interleaved with these daily annoyances of Rules Ramanajum are his futile attempts to woo Sada. If the former leads to the birth of Anniyan, the latter leads to the emergence of Remo. How one personality gets submerged completely, while the other quelled temporarily is the rest of the story. A compelling tale indeed.

The flaws of the movie begin and end with the choice of the heroine. Sada acts as the perfect dhrishti for the movie. I admire Vairamuthu’s tongue-in-cheek humour when he penned the lyrics “Iyengar veettu azhage…” keeping Sada in mind. :P

The music. Apart from “Sukumari…” and “Andankaakka”, none of the others matches up to the standards of a Shankar movie. But that is to be expected given the vast bridge between Harris Jeyraj and Rahman.

The obvious heroes of the movie are Vikram and Vivek. After lying in the dredges of vulgar humour – atypical to Tamil – Vivek comes up with a great performance. The “Kamal-sir” joke, and his comment on “sappa figures” bring the theatre down.

Vikram continues to impress. There was nothing surprising about his performance, given the high expectations after his Pitamahan performance. His portrayal of Rules Ramanujam is awesome, even to the minor detail of holding the mirror while applying the sreecharnam. Sigh! I only hope my mother doesn’t get ideas on how I am supposed to follow the typical Iyengar lifestyle after seeing the movie. (I do not have any qualms about imitating Anniyan though. :))

I think one important example of public apathy that Shankar missed out is on the issue of movie piracy. Not only does it give him an opportunity to hit the audience hard and make them feel uncomfortable, it is self-serving as well. Pirated VCDs have been the bane of Tamil cinema for quite some time now, and it is my personal opinion that any person who supports this “industry” needs to be asked to shut his mouth on voicing any cribs about the nation. As I told my aunt who used to be an avid VCD watcher, “Do you want the blood of another GV on your hands?” GV, brother of movie maestro Mani Rathnam, was forced to commit suicide because of this very disease – video piracy. When a man as accomplished falls prey to such public negligence, I pity the first-time producers. As S Ve Shekar rightly puts it, “How would you feel if your father works hard for 30 days of the month, and then some unknown guy collected his salary on the 31st?!”

That is exactly what the public is doing. And they do not seem to realize the gravity of the situation. Even as I write this, there would be people around the world who would be watching Anniyan on pirated VCDs. It makes me wonder whether people are justified in saying that the murdering of people, as Anniyan does, was a bit of hyperbolic reaction. Maybe extreme situations do need such extreme measures.

Let me end this review (?) of Anniyan (interspersed with my own thoughts) with this quote by Kamal Hassan that I heard in his interview prior to the release of Mahanadhi.
“Do people think before spitting into a river? No…they just think nothing is going to happen by the acts of a single person. But if a million think the same, the Mahanadhi wouldn’t be a maha-nadhi anymore, it would be a maha-gutter. One person has to think about this implication and swallow his saliva and pull back.”

Very true. Very very true.

English Confusion

2005-06-28T11:21:00.000-07:00

English is a funny language. Ok, it can’t get more clichéd than this. Almost along the lines of “Cricket is a funny game”. But I shall try to talk about a few things that have puzzled me in the English language.

For starters, the expression “walk the walk and talk the talk”. The context in which this is used is most often to tell somebody to do as he says. I’ve used this expression just once in my life – a week back – and no sooner had the words left my mouth than I realized there was something wrong. Something illogical, incorrect. Atleast to me.

If I really do want a person to do as he says, the logically correct thing to say would be “walk the talk”. This is simple enough. Walk denoting “action”. Talk denoting “speech”. In effect, “match your words with action”.

But the more popular WTWATTT is meaningless. Or if there is a meaning, it is definitely not what it is claimed to be (on the surface level). All that my slow brain can grasp is, it means “do whatever you are doing, say whatever you are saying”.

Fine, I admit I am being a bit over-critical and narrow-minded. Even if I remove the tone of exasperation, it still is a flat statement with no assertion of any kind, while the inferred meaning seems to imply an inherent assertiveness. Or am I missing something?

After throwing these words around my mind, something else struck me. If I used the phrase like this – “If you are not ready to walk the walk, don’t talk the talk…” it would make a large impact. And the meaning seems to recede to the populist one, albeit unconvincingly.

Now that I am done talking the talk on that matter, let me shift to another quirk – one that made the Devil the object of light-hearted ridicule ages ago.

Question: “Are you not going home today?”
Two possible answers: Either he is going home. Or he is not.
Ans 1: “No, I am going.”
Ans 2: “No, I am not going.”

Obviously the 2 answers are poles apart. But why do both of them begin with a No??? As the Devil used to argue feebly, Ans 2 should be “Yes, I am not going.”
We’ve been laughing at this one for ages…but sometimes I wonder…

I just realized that this weirdness isn’t restricted to English alone. The above two sentences in Tamil and Kannada would receive similar responses. Is it true for the other languages as well?

Ok, another minor irritant about the English language. What the heck is the difference between “toward” and “towards”? I never use toward, it’s always towards.
Is it because I have been brought up on a diet of British English? Or is it because I have heard the word with ‘s’ before, and after that I feel the lack of ‘s’ makes it incomplete? Or are both my supposed reasons linked to one another?

But amidst all this confusion, there is a silver lining. A quick Google of “toward and towards” shows me that there are a whole lot of people with the same doubt. I only wish I could delve deeper into the English grammar to come up with a convincing enough reason. Are there any distant learning English grammar courses that I could possibly join?

Finally, a word I abhor – “anyways”. People just seem to have stopped using the word “anyway” anymore. And they don’t even mean the same! But I fear that, years into the future, both would be used interchangeably. And if that happens I shall just quit speaking English. :)

Seriously, I refuse to ever use that word in any of my conversations apart from the ones that go, “Don’t you goddamn use ‘anyways’!!!”. Let’s all revert to the good old “anywise”. That might atleast help in hampering the process of “anyway” falling into the dark side.

:)

Note: To preempt any brickbats on my poor grammar knowledge, I claim that all this is an attempt to flesh out my doubts, and maybe be directed to a good grammar course.

Crazy Weekend

2005-06-26T11:27:00.000-07:00

After a day when my ears were privileged to hear the 4 golden words that I had been wishing to hear over the last few weeks, came the day when I hated myself the most.

Which do I begin with? Easy decision. Always begin with the rot, let the good things remain in the mind of the reader.

Today was a bad day. A day of a rare occurrence. A day that explained why the rare occurrence was “rare”, and should be relegated to the ranks of “extinct”. Enough of being cryptic, here is what happened – I lost my temper. (Ok, Rajjo I can see you itching to comment, “Chilli chilli…temper temper! Learn to control it like me. :)” Go ahead! Let the irony hit me hard)

Details apart, I felt bad. I hated myself for doing it. There is no way I could live with the guy who had taken hold of my body from 11AM to 1:30PM. Thankfully the insanity passed. And I am fine. But I shall not let this happen again. No sir. Really sorry Malhotra & Peter (names withheld on request :))).

Ok, now to the four words I’ve been aching to hear for the past 15 days or so – “You are an uncle!”.

Yesterday. 25th June. 6:30 PM. My little sister’s baby boy is born. Officially I have become a Maama. And I love it! Now time to rack my brain to come up with a nice name for my “apple of my eye”’s.

Hmm…

26

2005-06-23T11:06:00.000-07:00

26. 26. 26.

Yup, that’s how old I am. I have been flooded with warm wishes from all around me. People like the Devil went to the extent of “hacking” to post his birthday wishes. Fine, hacking is too harsh a word, especially when I am the one who shares his login and password with the Gang. But it was quite a shock!

But it also made me very proud of myself. I was gloating the entire 21st. Now that is a definite contradiction to what Akshai had posted on his blog. And its true, i.e. the contradiction. I am proud of a lot of things in my life, and never miss an opportunity to show off. But both the Devil and Akshai, and for that matter Chakku couldn’t stop themselves from being overly nice, and thus sprinkled quite a liberal amount of lies in their wishes.

Let me set the record straight here and clarify some of the purported “facts”:
I was and never will be a topper in academics.
I AM NOT A CASANOVA!!!

Any person needs a hook in his life. Similarly any Gang needs to conjure a hook in each member of the group. Life is after all one long walk, and it needs to be packed with fun. So, when someone runs out of jokes, he just pulls up the old hook and evokes laughter. But that’s all it is – laughing matter! And I do not complain.

Coming to some of the things that I am proud of. There are in general 2 categories where pride can reside: 1) feeling proud of one’s own achievement 2) feeling proud of somebody else’s achievement. That’s it. Any sense of pride will always fall into either of the groups.

Frankly, the majority of my pride is in the second category. Rahman, Dravid, SK, Pistons, the list is endless. Chakku’s blog covers most of these aspects.

But my pride at my self would have been almost hollow if not for one redeeming feature. And that is the greatest achievement of my life. No two ways about it.

My Friends.

I can’t imagine a life without these guys. I’ve known most of them since 1995, and given the chance to relive the last 10 years, I wouldn’t choose any other way. Even a phrase such as “they complete my life” is shallow. Heck…they are my life!

In some ways a part of the credit for this should go to an old ally of mine – Luck. For most of the time, she has been very kind to me. And every time I begin to rue about certain places where my luck has never worked, I am reminded of these guys – they more than make up for the odd troughs. I just…forget it…I wouldn’t be able to complete this sentence without sparking a few tears in my eyes. So let it be.

And it is with these guys (barring the ones overseas) that I spent the evening of 21st. I loved every second of it…hmm…including the time Inder smeared the goddamn cake on my face, and left me breathing through one nostril for 10 minutes. :))

The present was something that should increase in importance after tomorrow’s NBA Finals. It was a Ben Wallace jersey. Lets hope he completes the rewriting of history. Hope!

As much as I hate it when my friends thank me for anything I do, I have to say this one more time.

Thank You Guys!

*well, thankfully I needed to wipe out just one tear drop*

:)

Moving.

2005-06-21T12:40:00.000-07:00

No other words to describe the evening. Blessed to spend time with the Gang.
Cant ask for more. Cant ask for a better birthday present.

More on everything later.
Need to crash now.

And this is the actual Chilli resuming control of his blog.
:)

Superlative Sridhar

2005-06-20T11:32:00.000-07:00

Superlative: Pronounced - (soo -pûr l @-t v)
Of the highest order, quality, or degree; surpassing or superior to all others.

And I think dictionary.com is right. Take every single synonym to superlative raise to the power of infinite and you still would not get Sridhar Raman.

My dedication cannot compare to his plethora of word knowledge or his accuracy of English grammar, so dear readers please bear with me.

These days the word “God” is thrown about liberally, but when we talk about Sridhar Raman in the same breath, there is no ambiguity.

Point.

His accolades in the world of academia. His accomplishments in the world of gaming. His endeavors in the complicated world of women. His infallible memory. His skills at navigating the treacherous roads of Bangalore. His dedication to the gang. His fake laugh. His never-present anger. His dedication to traffic rules. His downloads. His super criticism of anything he dislikes and abundant praise of things he likes. His this … and that … and on and on and on ….

Proved.

He has been around 26 years in this world. But the gang has been, I think, the only ones blessed by his divinity’s greater half of life. He had once commented that the devil is the one who gathers the gang, but I think he missed the point when it is the gang which rallies around the god.

Sridhar Raman was born 26 years ago to this date. It was one of the longest summer solstices known to man. And you know why …..

Happy Birthday Chilli, sometimes known as Sridhar Raman.

Post written by the devil and minor cosmetic change by Random Variable.

UPDATE: I have realised the mistake of sharing my login & pwd with the Gang. :)Anyway, thank you guys. I shall attach my thank you post with a few clarification of the purported "facts". Until then, people who are reading this post - please take everything with a pinch of salt. Its semi-fiction.

2005-06-20T02:19:00.000-07:00

A lot of things are floating around my head screaming, “Write about me! No, no, write about me..”. And I can’t really choose one. Add to this a book-tag by Other, and I am confused.

So I took a call. All my specific blogs would be done through the week, while today I would just write about the last week & weekend. The tags, ……., etc would have to wait. If a few unrelated topics creep in, I cry your pardon. Concentration has never been my strength.

Movies
Last week saw the implementation of a new practice by our Gang – weekday night show. A typical Friday night show is fun, but where is the excitement in that! You reach PVR, and you realize that most of the IT crowd this side of Hosur Road – Ring Road has turned up there. The other half can be found at Innovative Multiplex. Getting tickets for movies that we really wish to catch is almost impossible. That’s where the Wed-Night show is good.

You stroll into the theatre almost 5 minutes before the show begins, and tickets are available. That is exactly how we saw Kung Fu Hustle, acronymed Ku Fu Hu by me. :) The movie begins in a very silly manner, but once the action begins, and the plot unfolds, you realize what the director is taking a dig at. Simply superb. Some memorable scenes are – the snakes scene, “lawyer/doctor” flashback, and the clincher – “Is he the One?!!”.

There is this character who flits across the screen often, always in a state of performing a daily ablution. I never found it funny, and the overall direction didn’t seem silly enough to make me consider this as an exception. My take on this is that the director was probably taking a dig at the “toilet humour” that is rampant in American cinema. He felt that no spoof is complete without some toiltet humour, or in some cases, a spoof is nothing but toilet humour.

The best part after all this was the fight against sleep next day at the workplaces. Mine was largely unsuccessful, and I didn’t complain. Looking to do the same this week – possibly Anniyan. But the Devil wants to catch Batman Begins as he has seen all the Hindi movies currently running in town.

NBA
Down 2-3. 2 away games. No one has ever come back from such a deficit in the Finals. Even the Rockets who lost game 5, and went on to beat the Knicks had the final 2 games at home.
So everything loaded against the Pistons. History completely against them. Backs to the wall.
Detroit has a tough week ahead. Go Pistons!

Weekend
Over the course of the weekend, I spent quality time with all the guys. Saturday was spent in setting up an aquarium at Chakku’s place. I have never been one of those pet-loving kinds. But it was real fun to set the entire thing up along with the expert Inder, and the proponent of the idea – Devil. More on the aquarium in a later post.

Sunday was spent with the Devil at an NGO. More on that later.
And the night was a good time to meet the ever-busy, “I am somewhere” Malleswaram boys.

Overall, a nice week & weekend.

I need to sleep.

Post-Surgery

2005-06-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

I never realized that spicy food had such an impact on me. For the past 2 days, I have had to do with bland, semi-solid fare, and the experience has been excruciating. Another fact that seems to have reached home is that I am not really a big fan of ice creams. Yes, I do enjoy the occasional scoops, but is it a substitute for real food? Nope!
I long for some steaming hot sambhar with some spicy curry. And sadly, I can’t have any of these for atleast a week. :(

And now to the actual surgery, I am all in support for the “being frank and sincere” school of thought of dentists. But when you are reclining on that chair, and have your mouth pulled wide open, and then have him thrust some kind of medieval torture device into your mouth and begin to yank the tooth with god almighty might…the last thing I want to see is a shake of the head and a “No…its too tough. It is going to be a struggle”. But that’s exactly what my dentist tells his intern!! I have changed my mind now…hell to frankness. Lets have some good old-fashioned “straight face while lying your guts out”.

Remember the old computer game called Dave? Well, for most part of the surgery all I could think of was this game. There are levels in this game when you have a jetpack for a limited amount of time, and whenever I used to play the game I had this jittery feeling regarding when the jetpack would expire and let me fall down an abyss or a hellfire. That’s the exact same thing I wondered about my local anesthesia. After hearing the sawing of the bone, creaking of my jawbones from the yanking, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if the anesthesia just stopped working.

I can’t imagine the possibility even now.

After all the cribbing, now to some good things. The root of my wisdom tooth was shaped like a hockey-stick (in the words of the dentist). He had given up hope of taking it out in one piece as one part of the root was eager to come out while the other wasn’t. I was doing my best to be the bad host and get the damn thing off my mouth. But any increase of effort from my side was at the most a widening of the mouth. Not enough to get that wretched little thing out.

But then came those golden words. “Lucky!…I have just one word for you – lucky”. Just as the dentist begin his final yanking, out came the tooth in one shape. I had no words to express my joy. Neither did I have a proper mouth to express my words. But I did my best to smile, or something faintly resembling it.

Now I can look back at the entire operation in a less gloomy light. I can even look at the time when dentist asked his intern to increase the volume when Winamp began to play “Take it Easy, Urvashi” as less sarcastic, and more salutary. Circumstances…its all got to do with the circumstances.

All’s well that ends painlessly. I would like to dedicate this post to the person who discovered/invented local anesthesia.

Oh another thing. Check out this link – it is Stephen King’s graduation speech for the students of UMaine. Just one word – beautiful.

Devil De-viled

2005-06-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

There are always people in this world who actually have the nicest heart, the softest personality, the calmest disposition, but attempt to portray themselves in a different manner. They find this need to call themselves something demonic, and trust me when I say this: they wouldn’t be able to say ‘boo’ to a goose! It’s just not in their mental makeup to be mean, bad, evil, etc…but they find it necessary to force them as such.

And one such person celebrates his 26th birthday today – The Good Boy who likes to call himself Devil.

There are few first impressions as impacting as one where you see a person on the stage doing his best to be a Drew Carrey. But that is exactly how I met him. Though he officially made his entry into my life as the magnanimous plutocrat providing succor to us famished souls (Rajjo, Kiddo and myself), the “Whose Line is it Anyway” act is something that I would like to associate him with, and he doesn’t. :)

After having “pillioned” his Kinetic Pride, Honda a million times & then “shotgunned” his Zen, Esteem, Lancer, City a gazillion times, I can say that he is one of the best drivers, if he chooses to be. But the problem is that in an effort to show his non-existent mean streak, he pulls off some driving antics – a charade pretty convincing to the unsuspecting eye, but not to anyone in our gang.

He will always be the soul of our gang – a fact pronounced by the fact that we had the least fun when he was away in London/ Hyd/ Chennai, and the most when in Bangalore. Give him five minutes, and he will concoct some sort of a get-together that would take us ages to plan. All this easily makes us ignore his idiosyncratic affinity towards TGIF, stupid car movies, bland European cuisine and innocent gaffes.

Despite his “cool devil” impersonation, he still wishes for the fervent birthday wishes, Murugesh’s Arab mails and maybe even a few flowers from the ladies. (So anyone who is in a position to render any of the following services, please free to do so)

A Happy Birthday to Kaushik aka The Devil aka Kojan aka XS aka Kaausheee!!!

:-)

Of Tennis & Damage Control

2005-06-07T09:24:00.000-07:00

In between bouts of toothache, damage control and reading I caught the French Open live on TV. The women’s tournament couldn’t have unfurled out any better. My favourite player Justine Henin-Hardenne won the tournament in style. She began badly in her initial rounds against the weaker opponents and got into the zone against Sharapova and Pierce. The complete dismantling of her opponent was a sight to behold – that is if you are not a fan of the poor victim on the other side. That single-handed backhand of hers…wow!!

There are few things in tennis that are immortally tagged along with a player; like Becker’s diving around the net, Goran’s service, Chang’s fist pumping, Venus’ drive volley, Korda (and now Roddick) applauding a good shot by the opponent. But the one that I hold at the uppermost echelons is Henin’s backhand. Nothing has been invented yet in tennis to match this.

The men’s tournament was a disappointment as I was looking forward to seeing Federer stamp his authority as the best player ever, and brook no arguments. He may still turn out to be the best ever, but never unanimously, unless he wins on clay.

The men’s final was irritating to watch. When a guy drops his racket and begins pumping his fist, and you realise that the score is just 30-30 in the 1st set, 1st game, it annoys you. If I had been on the other side I would have jumped over and given him a tranquiliser shot. Nadal seems to be a good prospect atleast on the clay courts standing 5 feet away from the baseline. If he can do the necessary adjustments on grass, he could prove to be a tough competitor for Federer. But for me to appreciate his game he needs to drop his “Hewitt-act” soon.

On Sunday, in between snatches of the French Open, I watched the Tamil movie Kandukonden Kandukonden. After Rahman, the obvious star of the film is Mamooty. Right at the end when Aishwarya Rai tells him her love, his blustering, his anger (or fake-anger) and a sudden egoistic rejection of what he thinks is sympathy – brilliantly depicted and expressed. I guess the movie didn’t too well at the box-office as it was released almost at the same time as another classic – Mani Rathnam’s Alaipayuthe (which again had Rahman has the obvious star!).

This entire week will have to be spent on damage control. Our religious movement has taken a major hit. But now that the true God has attained complete autonomy we should see some drastic moves. Recruitment is a major part of this drive. The other actionables…hmm…will keep you updated as it happens.

Oh btw, do any of you believe that Raphael Nadal is 19 years old?!!!! He is on the lines of Afridi – always hovering around the 19 and 20 years age greoup. If Nadal is actually nineteen years old, then you might as well say Akshai is older than him.

But we know the truth…don’t we? :-)

“Dumbing down…”

2005-06-05T12:28:00.000-07:00

Do you know what mesial impaction is? I didn’t until today morning. And what is even surprising is that I am “suffering” from it. For all those whose first name isn't Ameya or are lazy enough to google or wiki “mesial impaction” let me give a layman’s definition – the wisdom tooth is trying to break out of my goddamn gums and causing a lot of pain simply because it is tilted at an angle. Atleast I think that is what it is. After the dentist showed the video of what they were going to do to me, I think I fainted for a few minutes and missed out on hearing about a crucial part of my problem.

I am facing the possibility of having two of my four wisdom teeth extracted! And the worst part is that the 4th isn’t even “born” yet. But the dentist wants to smoke it out and get it off my mouth come what may. I feel sad for this tooth. :( It just sat below my gums being quiet, causing no harm – heck! I didn’t even know it existed. But one fine day its contemporary on the other side of the mouth decided raise Cain. And now the troublemaker is going to be evicted…and maybe the silent one as well.

After having seen the video of the bone being cut and then the tooth being gouged out, things are pretty quiet dentally. The tooth is trying to stage a recovery of sorts and make me change my mind. Heck even I want my mind to be changed! But the damage has been done and there is no redemption…:(

So come Friday night, I shall be going through the “dumbing down” phase. I shall find out my threshold for bearing pain. Nice thought to help me get through another working week.

Crossroads

2005-06-04T01:30:00.000-07:00

There are times I wish I could play out my entire life like the movie 12B/Sliding Doors, and then come up with my life’s decisions. That’s not possible, so I am stuck with the unenviable task of making a few calls. I am at crossroads, and at various levels. And I am pretty sure that somewhere down the line these different roads and different levels would intertwine and make me rue the call at square one.

But let me try to assume that the levels are separate entities and I am able to manage total insulation between them. If this sounds like a utopian premise for a complicated problem, pardon me…but that’s all the brains I have. And I do not wish to tax them too much; they wouldn’t be able to take the stress.

If you think all this writing is a bit cryptic, I have news for you. What is going to follow next would make the previous two paragraphs seem like kindergarten stuff. Now that I have declared so, I need to match my words with real cryptic stuff. But that shouldn’t be a problem, I rarely work without pressure.

Now onto the first crossroad in one of the levels. I am in a position where I am confident of just “flipping a switch” and get things rolling. But the problem is the “when” and “why” the flipping needs to be done. Currently, I do not see any kind of motivation pulling me to flip – the switch, I mean, not my head. So I can take the easy road and wait for the motivation to germinate or maybe traverse the hazy path to push motivation to motivate me. Sounds confusing right? Well, that’s the state my brain is right now…and putting it in words has done nothing to clear it. Or maybe it has, and just taking its own sweet time to home in. That’s fine, time is something I have in abundance. Or do I?

The next crossroad is one I am most uncomfortable in confronting. But over the last few weeks, things have materialized (in my head), and I have resolved to stick to the resolution.
(When I begin to verb-ify my noun repeatedly, it is a clear sign that I have lost it – temporarily)
The world would reject my “resolution” because it sounds a tad stupid and impractical. And I am keen on sticking to it because it sounds very stupid and impractical.

To wrap up these “key” decisions, I am planning on putting a bit of effort in a different direction hoping/dreaming that things would eventually sort themselves out (i.e with minimal help from my side). How minimal is actually minimal is better left unanswered.

For that matter, there a lot of things better left unanswered.

I hope I have succeeded in being lucid in my thoughts and translating to unambiguous words.

Doggone Tired

2005-05-30T22:15:00.000-07:00

A tiring weekend. Played out as a 3 day weekend. Despite not doing much on Sunday.

Friday night was all about an expedition through high waters, fallen trees and uprooted electric poles. We (Avi, Akshai and me) took almot 3 hours to travel a distance of 20 odd kms. Akshai, before joining us, had his own adventures - events that he wouldnt relish seeing published on a public domain. Typical scenes during the evening were:

Dhimant@1800: Chilli, i am on bannerghatta road. Guys get here fast, there is a huge jam.
Chilli@1845: Chakku, we just got off bannerghatta road and onto the ring road. Are you ahead of us?
Dhimant@1845: I am still on bannerghatta road!!!

Maga@1730: I shall catch an auto and get to vijaynagar from indranagar
Maga@1815: Chilli, no auto guy is agreeing to come to vijaynagar. What is the reason?
Chilli@1815: Er...I really have minimal knowledge on the internal machinations of the bangalore auto-drivers' union...

Despite these incidents, all of us (almost all of us) reached the marriage hall safely to attend the wedding reception of our friend Sudeep's sister. Turned out to be quite a mini-PESIT-reunion. From there around 8 of us headed to Java City, not out of any particular fondness for that place - atleast from my side - but because it is one of the few places that is open till 1AM. But this is a fact that seemed to be common knowledge as most of the crowd starting pouring in only after 12. We had our coffee/tea and moved out.

Speaking of coffee brings me to one of my biggest cribs about these places. Call me old-fashioned, but what these cafes purpotedly sell as coffee isnt really it. There is nothing to beat the taste of filter coffee made out of brewed decoction and served with a good lather. Even the worst Darshini makes better coffee than these people. What makes it worse is that I have to shell out 10 times the money that I would have normally paid for good coffee to drink bad coffee!
Or maybe I am being too critical. It could be just that after having been brought up on the taste of pure Iyengar coffee, my tongue chooses to reject the rest of the lot. Maybe the coffee in the Baristas, Coffee Days etc is actually very tasty and I am the one with the bad taste buds.

After just 4 hours of sleep on Friday night, I had to get up early on Saturday morning. Had to arrange a few things as my parents were leaving for Madras. And just when I was going to crash again, the Devil called up and expressed interest in watching a Playback performance. So I decided to accompany him as I had heard a lot about Playback from Dhimant, but never acually seen it. My frank opinion at the end of the performance - bad! I didnt like it one bit, and thats the truth. (Sorry Chakku!) This doesnt mean that the actors did a bad job generally. But that I am not exactly a fan of such. Maybe seeing another set of actors perform might change my opinion. Maybe not.

I have been criticised as being too critical - not just about this, but many other things. But I dont see whats wrong in that? If there is anything I like, there can be no person more passionate about it than me. Similarly, I tend to be more critical about something that I do not like. I am as effusive in my praises as I am while spewing vitriol. In my opinion, it is worse to be hypocritical than hypercritical.

Saturday night involved getting the right birthday gift for Pamsy before he treated us. And I think we did a pretty good job of it. Following the Devil's plan of "experimentation" Pamsy agreed to give his treat at a Japanese restaurant, Dahlia, and the food wasnt bad - though we vegetarians had to add a lot of chilli powder and salt to infuse some spice into the food. The treat was rounded off with some dessert at Cornerhouse, a place that holds a real funny incident as far as treats go.
Almost ages ago, Rajjo, Kiddo & me won a sports quiz and the prize was a Cornerhouse gift coupon worth 200 bucks. Not having been there before, we invited the entire gang for a "treat" at the place with our prize money. The 200 bucks covered just about the expenses for our team, while the rest of the gang had to pay for their ice-creams. I still remember Akshai going, "What sort of a treat is this!!!". :-)

Catching up on lost sleep was the main agenda of Sunday. In between these bouts of sopor, a few of us attended the engagement of an old school-friend of ours - "Tiger" Jagga. Thanks to Dhimant's urgent work, we had to skip lunch at the hall and instead have it at a Darshini!

The evening would have been a disaster as it looked to be heading towards my worst nightmare - dinner in solitude! This was mainly due to the Devil falling sick and being out of action for the day, Bloggard & Akshai getting some studying done, and Dhimant & Pramod having family engagements. But the day was saved by Avinash and we had a nice North Karnataka meal at a place close by. The talk centered a lot on our Infy days and the subsequent repercussions.
Some happy, some sad.

I crashed only after listening to the song "Kaalai Arumbi" (from the movie Kanaa Kandaen) a million times! What a lovely song!! And I am still listening to the song as I type this...

Sigh!

Mr. Nice Guy

2005-05-25T10:00:00.000-07:00

If you came up with a hierarchy for all the guys in the world, you would have the ordinary fella, the good guy, the “gem of a person”, the “one in a billion”, and then you would have him!

He is what the world expects all its humans to be, knowing very well that that would be the utopia people dream about and poets write about. But that unfortunately cannot happen. It is not a question of effort or desire, but a simple lack of ability. No one can match up to him. Period.

Once I got past the initial conversations with him that consisted of a lot of “thank you”s and “sorry”s, I realized what my mother had been expecting me to be. Frankly, a scary prospect!

Despite obstinately refusing to join our religion and stating, in his own words, “Soccer and music are my religions”, he could be a “god in his own right”. (Courtesy: co-god) And today he turns 26.

For all those still in the abyss of ignorance, it is none other than Pramod (aka Storyteller aka Pamsy).

Here’s wishing him a very happy birthday and looking forward to lavishing a huge treat on us. :)

A Week of Two Posts

2005-05-23T23:30:00.001-07:00

Starting the weekend with a throat infection isn’t really a dream situation. But sadly that’s what happened. Of course, this didn’t hamper any of my planned activities for the 2 days.

Saturday began with a long conversation with my co-God (Akshai), and we came up with a lot of key decisions – information to which none of the mortals have access. We floated a few more theories, philosophies and shared the usual common sympathy for the doomed mortal race. Of course, by the end of the weekend another member of our gang was being lured towards our religion – you shall find out why and how as the post progresses.

The evening was a 3-people meeting at this lousy place (TGIF). Actually three isn’t exactly the right number – more like two and a quarter. Akin to how a submarine comes up at times to catch some air, so did Inder come up to join our conversations (albeit a few seconds), before drifting down towards his “short-story-writing-on-the-mobile-world”. This gave the Devil and me a lot of opportunity to talk about NBA, NBA and more NBA. Inder’s contributions to these talks were a short laugh, a grin, and…hmm…I guess that’s it. The attraction of our religion was already taking its effect on the Devil. At the most, just a push would have sufficed to tilt him towards us and away from the dark side. As things turned out, it was more like a shove that had him coming towards us (or almost).

(Sunday morning was my school re-union that I had been wishing about for a long time. That shall be described in more detail in the post below.)

On Sunday evening, we were joined by Dhimant as well. By this I mean he joined us at the table, but imitated Inder’s submarine act as far as the conversations went. The Devil, not wanting to be left out, started messaging me – and I was sitting right next to him. :) The mortals misused my name for a lot of their messages, but I just smiled along and pitied their folly – akin to Krishna forgiving Sishupala’s hundred sins.

I must say that I held my rage with remarkable assurance despite the absence of my co-God, but I guess I couldn’t attain total control. The deluge over the past 2 days is a clear sign from us for all the mortals – the END IS NEAR!! We gods can’t provide a more obvious hint than this. Shape up or not be shipped out (in our ark)!

It has just been learnt that the Devil has been rendered speechless by our onslaught, and, in all probability, you can expect a total change of heart from him. Though he definitely wouldn’t be able to complete the Trinity, we might decide to give him the position of a consultant or a prophet. Time will tell.

:-)

2005-05-23T11:15:00.000-07:00

"Ring out the battle call of duty..."

March 1995. Kannada Paper 2 of X ICSE Exams. For some strange reason, thirst seemed to have laid its hands on almost all of us as we sat writing our last exam above the concert hall. Was it a weird grip of fear concerning our exams that left our throats parched? Or was it possibly because that was the last day for us as a student of Joseph’s School?

Zip 10 years into the future. And there I was in the same place on Sunday. My one and truly alma mater. It’s true that I’ve studied in schools and colleges on either side of the Joseph’s era, but those years 1988 to 1995 were something special. I still remember the first day when I walked in through those huge gates, staring at the plaque that proclaimed “Established 1858”, being completely overwhelmed by the bronze statue of St. Joseph, standing in the assembly and listening to the wise words of our Father Dennis Coelho, a person who, despite being the Principal, never gave that impression, a person whose doors were open at all times of the day.

A surprising 30 of us actually turned up for the re-union. All credit to Sunil Pichamuthu for managing to rope in so many guys, considering that we last saw each other in a non-cyber age, and computers were special equipment kept in our school lab which needed us to remove our shoes to gain entrance. The reunion was as expected and even more - a lot of people married, a lot looking completely different (including yours truly) and a few remaining the same (well almost!).

The one true celebrity of our batch – Darius - had come down from his workplace, and it was obvious that his affinity to talk a lot infected us all. After months of listening to his non-stop chatter on the radio, it was a different kind of experience to hear him “live” after 10 years. He seemed displeased to see me – his exact words were “You are a traitor! You are a traitor to the cause of all people born short…how could you leave me alone and go on like this?” :))

It was a nice feeling to not be the shortest guy in school, though it has happened 10 years too late. Not that the response was any different – “Sridhar?? Who is that? Hmm…oh Chilli!! Hi…blah blah”. Sadly, the guy (Khalid) who christened me such wasn’t there at the meet. But that is just me being over-greedy! A few months back I would have given anything to meet even 5 of my schoolmates, and here I am cribbing about the person who did not make it.

We spent about four hours in the school campus, talking about the teachers, the helpers, the brothers, the fathers, the thrashings, the escapades, etc. The lunch table conversations were on career, life, our most famous alumnus – Dravid, our “rotten” archrivals, etc.

The school building has changed a lot since our days (if this phrase doesn’t make me sound antiquated, I don’t know what will), but the spirit still lingers. It was an overwhelming experience. A moving experience.

Hope to meet the rest sometime soon.