"A Fragment of Time..."

Another Freedom Struggle

2011-08-23T08:42:00.000-07:00

Its not often that great events repeat themselves. India is not a place that would merit a place in the lexicon of the ordinaries. We are a country of anamolies, of incredible love and unbelievable hate, a country of great thought and abysmal thoughtlessness, however we will always be known as a nation who embraced non violence when the pain was unbearable.

It worked once, and it looks like it will work again. I love Anna Hazare, I hate Anna hazare. I respect him and thank him. I dont agree with all that he does, but that does not dilute my respect for him one bit.

Make no mistake, I have chronicled his life mentally through all that wikipedia and youtube have to offer. He is already a great Indian even before his Ramleela's.
He is my belief that human beings have a soul and there exists a god above.

Enough of rhetoric. Now to business. Read through what the Jan lokapal bill has to offer.

Key features of the Jan Lokpal bill

1.To establish a central government anti-corruption institution called Lokpal, supported by Lokayukta at the state level.
2.As in the case of the Supreme Court and Cabinet Secretariat, the Lokpal will be supervised by the Cabinet Secretary and the Election Commission. As a result, it will be completely independent of the government and free from ministerial influence in its investigations.
3.Members will be appointed by judges, Indian Administrative Service officers with a clean record, private citizens and constitutional authorities through a transparent and participatory process.
4.A selection committee will invite shortlisted candidates for interviews, videorecordings of which will thereafter be made public.
5.Every month on its website, the Lokayukta will publish a list of cases dealt with, brief details of each, their outcome and any action taken or proposed. It will also publish lists of all cases received by the Lokayukta during the previous month, cases dealt with and those which are pending.
6.Investigations of each case must be completed in one year. Any resulting trials should be concluded in the following year, giving a total maximum process time of two years.
7.Losses caused to the government by a corrupt individual will be recovered at the time of conviction.
8.Government officework required by a citizen that is not completed within a prescribed time period will result in Lokpal imposing financial penalties on those responsible, which will then be given as compensation to the complainant.
9.Complaints against any officer of Lokpal will be investigated and completed within a month and, if found to be substantive, will result in the officer being dismissed within two months.
10.The existing anti-corruption agencies (CVC, departmental vigilance and the anti-corruption branch of the CBI) will be merged into Lokpal which will have complete power and authority to independently investigate and prosecute any officer, judge or politician.
11.Whistleblowers who alert the agency to potential corruption cases will also be provided with protection by it.

Now, what I ask of this great movement is for all the followers to be informed of what he/she is supporting.

Start thinking of the implementation challenges in a massive nation like India.Work hard to make Anna's and every Indian's dream a reality.

Work and think more to live in a corruption free India. Dont just fast/ sing songs and waste more fuel in rallies!!

Jai Hind!

Long time no see....

2010-04-17T09:28:00.000-07:00

what goes through someone's mind when there's a lot of work to do.....
....usually a lot of work is a term associated with bloody hell i dont want to do this...so to procrastinate is the natural response.....then the mind says...arent you hungy..go get a snack.....suddenly the best movies are on TV and cricket;s interesting...not to mention the brilliant news bits on the internet...and then damn you come across this brilliant site that lets u stream some of your fav movie for free.....the streaming is slow...but u really dont worry about...u enjoy the intermittent bit stream....oh have something to do....life is wat u do in between work....that you dont like doing...:)

I am back

2009-08-17T03:10:00.000-07:00

after a long hiatus and with a "Boom" ...bang..... In the interim, we have lost our dear king of Pop, who consumed a cocktail of solids and now lies ina freezer some where unknown to all humanity, while his music lies secure in our hearts. Thanks MJ, for all the music, we love u King of Pop.

Another bright day

2008-11-19T01:32:00.000-08:00

Its another bright day in Hyderabad. Its another day of 0 Comments on my Blog. Things are back to normal. My wife thinks I'm Booker material, not that you would risk reading Arvind Adiga to verify that, however general consensus is that less then 0.00003% of all those who read my blogs understand enough to come back.

So the verdict is pretty obvious is'nt it. Everyone cribs abt Saas Bahu serials and cricket overdoses, but who the hell gets the TRP's. Its obvious, been staring at me all along, commercial sells, bloody hell that's why they call it Commercial!!!

Get ready for Phase 2 and a relaunch of my blog. Plethora of mushy love stories and moving apple sellers, and poor auto wala's who are honest to a fault and hardworking Bihari's will surface. Come on not all of it is fictious.

Song sequences too if the mood is right and maybe a couple of fights....hmmm the comedy track is what's amiss......another esoteric post......no wonder them comments vanish!! :) Incorrigible aint I...wait for Beta phase 2.0......

Overheard at the Canteen

2008-01-27T22:12:00.000-08:00

The Djokovic: Federer match was in progress. True to my status as a hardworker I was in the cafeteria watching.
A crowd puddled up behind me, and soon I was listening more and watching less...

Person behind me : Hey waat match daa..
Second voice : Federer match man..
PBM: Oh he's winning eh.., hey he's losing
SV: yeah 2 sets down..
PBM: who's he playing with..
SV: Reading from the scoresheet on the screen DOKOVIC (doko' wik)
PBM: why are you pronouncing with J silent..
SV: Come on ya..you pronounce San Jose (as San Hose right) just like that....

hmmmmm.....serbian names in Andhra pradesh....
Let them try Venkata Naga Babu Yediyurula........haaa trick here is nothing is silent......:)

Conversations with Cabbies

2007-09-24T23:07:00.000-07:00

Since my relocating to Hyderabad, I have seemed a more cheerful person. I have found time to smell the roses, and breathe some fresh air, oh Okay I am exaggerating, I have not been stuck in traffic. In one amazing instance I reached my office in 10 minutes flat and I repeated it every day for the last 7 days.

However I digress. I wrote to tell you all about the amazing conversations I have been having with cab drivers and auto wallah's for quite some time now.

The Aam Aadmi campaign might have brought Congress to power, but looks like the development is seeping down to all who are willing to work. From the call center/ IT employee who is willing to spend his nights answering phone calls , doing paper work or driving people from work to home and back, there seems to be work for most people.

The upshot is that work is a nice thing. It in simple terms keeps one occupied, no time for negativities. " Every one is so busy, says my cabbie. I went away for Hyderabad 10 years ago and now I come back and feel so bad. This place has grown so different. My frineds didnt have time to talk to me, have to report for work they said and went missing". "Now , its the same case with me. I hardly have any time, my mobile rings and I have to report for work".

Most of the cab drivers I have been talking to, have at some point dawdled about going to the middle east in search of that pot of gold under the rainbow. " Dont!" I assure them with the assurance of a man who can see the future". Though I vehemently throw my argument in favour of india, telling them that the competetive forces will kick in. You will work more sane hours, you will keep making more money, I tell them, and truthfully, that is exactly what I feel. The rupee is getting stronger, cabbies are learning processes, they have to report in punctually. They dont have time for idle chatter, most waiting time is spent catching up with the forty winks. I also talk to them about the emotinal side of the madness, you go back to your family every day or night , now how much money is that worth. They all seem to agree.

They all see the light and its not some idle mirage. Twenty twenty champions we are, but the long battle is what every body will claim is most important. We have learnt to win, its about a lot of things, but its mostly about desire and there's a lot of that in this country.

An autowalah in Chennai was telling me about the new flyovers they were building to the airport, as he pulled into a shell petrol pump. I told him that its a snazzy looking pump. He said, Chennai is going to become like Singapore, only better he tells me. Suddenly the rhetoric and the language of the country is very different. I still know the north east and north west have to catch up, but it will be a matter of time.

Suddenly the tone across the country is not accusatory, its proud, its fearless. Its a country that is realising that its not second to any other in ability, effort, size, beauty, intellect and prosperity.

till the next post.....happy hacking...& chao!

God Fearing

2007-03-06T02:23:00.000-08:00

Smeared with ash on my forehead and my arms and the bright glow of sandalwood in the centre of my forhead with a red kumkum mark to add I stepped out of my house. I carried my office satchel and a light bag of my lunch.

"Lets go, he said and I meekly nodded. My cab was waiting. No sooner had I got in, that we set off in motion, sometimes with accelerations that would do rocket engines proud.

I managed to perch myself lightly at the edge of my seat. I always made sure that in addition to the seat belts I always tied myself to the seats. My lips chanted the Vishnu Sahasranama fervently, we were doing 60 kmph on the wrong side. We accelerated.

There was a blur and suddenly we reappeared on the right side of the road, no actually everyone was driving on the wrong side of the road, i relaxed a bit. It was a few buffaloes thinking the grass was greener on the other side. We followed the biffaloes to the right side of the road. We accelerated.The road was filled with Lorries, so many that you thought you were driving in a lorry assembly line. All the lorries were overloaded, slow polluting and overtaking each other. When two lorries try to overtake each other at sub 10 Kmph speeds we loose paitience and so we did.We were overtaking a slow lorry on the left, we didnt see the bus that was coming to the left from in front of the lorry. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead, the Vishnu Sahasranama was in a loop once again.

We were approaching one of the 1300 intersections that all Bangalore's main roads have. The Tata sumo stood at the intersection. It was waiting patiently. He had let two overloaded sand laden lorries pass. Life didnt seem fair to the Sumo driver, it was always he who let the other guy pass. His childhood was also filled with people whom he allowed to pass, while they finished school he had just started. It wasnt going to happen again he thought to himself.

The sumo moved into gear always straight into 4th gear due to some inexplicable mechanical imboglio, the sumo wanted to reach the main road before the rest.
We in my cab had just completed our service to humanity having shifted from the wrong side of the road to the right, we couldnt do all the charity ourselves.

Newton was asleep or plain out of his mind if he discussed decceleration in his work, in an accelerating economy we never discuss decceleration. So when we saw a 10 ton Tata sumo hurtling towards us at a 100 kmph we decided to do better. We moved into a higher gear. The prayers had no words, no meaning, we were about to be one with God. An instant later it all passed, grazing metal friendly swears and a very wet me.

There was lot of water in the cab and it wasnt all perspiration.A friendly chuckle emerged from the human at the wheel, we werent done yet.

My fists were clenched and I was kneeling, I remembered no more prayers. A honk, a grunt and screeching tyres told me we had reached. My prayers had been answered. Now it was 8 more hours before I had to leave, life wasnt all that bad.

A Pleasure - Volvo's in Bangalore

2007-03-01T03:41:00.000-08:00

The Volvo's are a great way to travel. Check out their website for timings and other details at www.bmtcinfo.com

Enjoy your travel!!!

A Century of Blogging!!

2007-02-08T20:38:00.000-08:00

Its of course a matter of great joy that I am about to complete a century in some way. Millions of aborted attempts in cricket and a realisation that the Bangalore traffic and work would never allow me complete the ton in reality I raise my bat in glee acknowledging millions of bloggers who fell by the wayside before they reached the famed mark.

Bat up venks.....its a ton.

Actually it should have come a lot earlier, I kept waiting for the perfect moment to blog. I kept saying naay that is not good enuf to make the 100th blog and six months passed. Of course it had to be this way, sneaking away from work, and before anyone asks me to do the next mundane task of the day, rush in to post.

Of course this is my life an this is how it should be. My best laid plans are just that plans, they never work. Seize the moment / opportunity and let me stop or even this blog may not make it out there.!!!

India vs China

2006-11-02T00:19:00.000-08:00

On the lines of a friends blog www.ecophilo.blogspot.com I will attempt to take up and discuss a few economically relevant issues from time to time on my blog as well. I will not limit myself to this, though and will continue to post on other topics too with stories and other snippets at regular intervals.

The China v India debate has been taken up many times, but I was surprised to hear that China has just 5 SEZ's in the form of Mega Cities where massive infrastructure is put in place and business progresses at breakneck speeds. While India has over 200 SEZ's.

While infratsructural development in restricted areas can happen at great rates, doesnt it mean that the fruits of developemnt dont flow down to all parts of the country. While these cities will thrive both for business and tourist reasons , they will also become increasingly expensive for the people living there.

The Indian approach might be more time consuming and fraught with dangers of delays at every turn but I feel it will carry development far deeper into the country.

Again the manufacturing vs Services debate is another massive discussion, but simply put, if India cornered more of the knowledge, know how and R&D share wont margins improve here over low margin manufacturing that happens in China.

The criticism of India has often been that the IT industry does absolutely nothing for India in terms of product development and Captive IP is concerened, does China produce its own cars , I mean designed and researched in China or do they only roll the cars out from their manufacturing units ? I dont know ? Something that has to be researched.

Why I hate my iPod Nano

2006-10-05T05:02:00.000-07:00

Well I fell in love with the iPod too. Like a beautiful women who ensnares an unsuspecting man, I fell victim to the pretty charms of the click wheel and the slim hips, the rich color interface and the size where also perfect. Its only later that I realised, its tough to charge, and then when you think its all charged , its tough to shut down, it keeps switching on automatically no matter if the toggle switch was off or not.

Then you tell yourself nothing is really perfect so you might have to live with a few imperfections. You have reconciled yourself to a life with low battery a moody switch off and tough navigation considering that its just an mp3 player, when you meet the other man in her life.

You meet itunes. Inarguably the worst interface I have seen and used for a music playback application. For once windows looks like a winner. Firstly its slow, second , it has too many unnesecary options, the existing playlists are unnecessary top rated etc are really a waste of programming and processing power.

As a user I want to add songs I want and delete those that i dont...how in gods name can i do that if itunes everytimes syncs up every god damn song in my hard drive.....

I have more cribs but i have a bus to catch and am determined to post today so here goes...

Wassup

2006-10-03T04:59:00.000-07:00

Hey folks hope you all had a great puja season. Well I did. What's been amazing is the cheery atmosphere this brings in all our lives. However I keep feeling for all those people who really cant take time out and enjoy the puja's.

I keep feeling for the auto wallah's and the bus drivers who have to work on Puja day and also on Gandhi jayanti. Poverty is such ubiquitious commodity in our country that it often fails to register in most of us. What about those people for him it doesnt make a difference if its Diwali or Dusshera, or may be it does. It means another free morsel does it ?

I dont think I can ever enjoy a festival again till I know it involves every one. That's where sport is awesome, in most cases it does bring in Universal joy, you must have seen people piling on in front of TV showrooms to watch Sachin bat. There is always an opinion no matter who has it, and there is a big smile when the ball crosses the boundary.

It just makes me wonder, is Sport the new religion and games the new festivals, already you would find a few who would swear by it , but it nevertheless makes you wonder.

Analysis of why I don't get any readers/ comments

2006-09-20T00:21:00.000-07:00

Though like one of you pointed out , I have been raving about this, its time to take a cold unemotional look at this. Why don't I get any hits at all, pretty simple I would say : The reasons are as below

1) I am not regular, I have no idea when I will post next, so Discipline is primary

2) My posts are too heavy, I nearly swooned when I read some of my old posts they are so boring....poor readers..., so post more contemporary stuff, make it interesting and aim for humor nearly always unless if there was a tragedy....

3) Sporadic use of technology, need to have the basics fitted in, so that people can atleast subscribe to my posts, or be informed when I post - What do I need for this ? Any one

4) Marketing, having learnt the 4 P's , I never did use them - now what are they Product, Place, price and promotion

What's my product ? Okie I would rate it a little above the average though it depends on who's reading.

Place - Its not in the right place I need to get it onto the multi reader blogs, more links more presence in blogger meets etc

promotion - The simplest promo is to leave comments on other blogs, and build up a clientele also important is to respond to comments meet people at blogger meets to put a face to the name and such things. Easier thing is to put Your blog link as your signature.

Price - What's the price for any blog I don't know.

Adieu Martina, Andre and Michael

2006-09-12T22:29:00.000-07:00

Its been a US open of farewells. The result was the same as expected by all, but the farewells were not. Some were tearful, like Andre's and some were sighs of relief like Martina's, and the last one was speculative.

While I have followed the Tennis legends closely through their career, I will not boast of the same for Michael. Andre's interview made fascinating reading. The career of a brash young man who grew up on court and discovered himself, his love and his respect for everything else. Like Jim Courier said he knew how to win the crowds over, which Pete never knew. Andre to me has Part 1 and 2. I will attempt not to talk about the cliche's but about the awesomeness of doing what you love for a living.

How true is that, its something that is true of a few blessed souls. For all of us trapped in a soulless existence, blaming circumstance and everything else, sportsmen and women will continue to be marvels. They will continue to haunt our nights.

Martina, the greatest as in the words of Billie Jean King. "Why did you come aback to play the US this year they asked her", - " I had to prove something to myself " she says, after uncountable grandslams singles, doubles, mixed doubles, masters titles, ATP ...and what not, she still had to prove something to herself. Do you remember your first win in 1974 - er was it 74 or 73- I don't remember who but if you tell me it will come back.

They are the avatars of our generation, people who do what they love. When will we do it? Work for yourself and not for the world. Do something because you still wanted to prove that one more thing to yourself. Standing alone on the courts knowing that you wanted it real bad.

These three embody the human spirit of what one can do if you love what you do and desire to excell at it, yeah we all knew it, but how does one get down to doing it ? It can be done, I have no doubts, dispel all the fear in your mind, get down to what you want to do, stop worrying about failures, keep hammering the nail or sawing the wood, stop not even if your arms ache, look up only when your done, it will be a good thing.

Doubt and fear are the biggest enemies, hard work and perseverance are the answers. Don't worry about failures, the Aussie's remember the Aussie's. The dismal hockey team, what's wrong with them - you cant win a match with desire all the hardwork needs to happen before hand, on the field instinct takes over. The games of today need perfect synchronization of the body, mind and the soul. Strategy, mental strength and belief in ones self. Easier said than done. But sport does teach you a lot. Lets start learning!!!

Keukenhof and Den Haag

2006-09-10T03:13:00.000-07:00

Keukenhof is the Famous Tulip gardens in Holland. The last two snaps are from Keuken and Den Haag is the Hague where the international court of Justice is located but more Tourists visit it for the Windmills.

More Amsterdam

2006-09-10T03:06:00.000-07:00

How Pretty can a place be. Makes you very jealous, but in any case you come back with the feeling that none of this is yours.

Strive for a pretty India or run away where the grass is greener ? Eternal dilemmas. its reducing of late but not completely.

Rotterdam and Amsterdam Snaps

2006-09-10T02:58:00.000-07:00

For long this blog has been devoid of any visual interaction. I guess pictures certainly speak louder than words. Some pretty snaps from my trip to Amsterdam a year ago.

The last foto is of an Afghani gentleman I met on the train, he claimed to be a big fan of Amitabh Bachan. Funny how far blooywood reaches.

I have personally met Eritreans, Egyptians and Iranians who claim to follow bwood. Now add Afghan's to the List. Of course the US and UK are the largest markets.

I guess marketing movies with subtitles in European nations (Western europe) will be massive business in the years to come.

2006-09-08T06:35:00.000-07:00

A sunny winter day in Gothenburg - My first snap published (on my blog of course)

Generally speaking

2006-09-07T22:07:00.000-07:00

Generally hopped onto say hi. Any of you folks visiting the blogcamp in chennai. i aint sure if I will be able to make it, i think it should be one awesome event. For all those who haven't yet seen or heard about it you can check it out here Blog Camp.

I have really been wasting my time. All of you who have been in this digital space for as long as I have , do you too feel that there is a big world out there which we aint exploring enough. Isn't it possible to make a living just doing what you love to do. Maybe like cricketers and all other sportsmen.

Hats off to Andre Agassi who said, I know what an honor it is to play a game for a living. Absolutely I think its a dream, a roller coaster and something only the absolute few do.

Another lackluster performance by our home grown mami Sania Missesanotheraa... Appreciate her putting us on the map though. The hockey team i hope spares us the blushes this world cup.More later its time i just posted....

When things fall in place they really do

2006-08-30T22:10:00.000-07:00

As the title shows, I am in a decent mood this morning. Been able to copy a very useful software on to my hitherto ununsed mp3 player. Hope it works when I get back home.

MS finally has a pretty useful tool for indisciplined bloggers like me. the Live writer seems useful. This is my first post from the Live writer. Of course it will have challenges like the ability to post in other fonts etc. But that should be a simple one.

looks like blogger does not support images/pictures so posting pics is out.

Ode to Kamal

2006-08-27T22:07:00.000-07:00

We have spent most of our adolescent life together, to this man who has had more "high's" than lows in life, from being the Allan Donald of Gumidipoondi to the dour defensive batsman in Soma.

Buddy here's a big cheer to you and wishing you all luck on this new adventure of yours. Something all of us, everyone at some point has always wanted to do. Its with a mix of envy and happiness that I look upon your journey. Stay safe, healthy and have all the fun, I am sure you will. Also lets not forget that I will chronicle the adventure's of Kamal, the man who took that one bold step.

Dude remember you carry with you all our curiosities, so explore them all, do some good on the way if you can, may be teach small kids in the mountains. I cant wait for it to start, I am sure nor can you !

Seri machchi, see you in Soma in a year, that should be our logical meeting point what say ?

Hi folks

2006-08-24T22:55:00.000-07:00

does anyone read this blog if u do just holler...u can do that on the comments column below. Hope the verdict is in Favour of Brother Inzy....

Ram in the Police

2006-08-22T22:46:00.000-07:00

Consumed by a need to act, and in a despicable retort to the Royal Mounted Canadian police, the Bangalore Police instituted the LUMP (Loyal UnMounted Police) force. Stealthily deployed and with great effect LUMP was an incredible success. What follows is the incredible sequence of events that led to this surprising move.

Rammiah Thimmasundara was one of us. A man predisposed to humor, frolic, movies and lots of good food. Legend had it that there wasn’t a single darshini where he hadn’t eaten for free.

Of course he was also a constable in the police force, sub junior category 4, okay something akin to a trainee software engineer. Ram they called him in jest, and few unspeakable others when he strove to be a pest.

Another cloudy afternoon in namma Bengluru found Ram chomping away at some piping hot bajji’s. Between mouthfuls he breathed and when his mouth was full he spoke. “What’s happening Sundar”? He splattered. “See that overloaded lorry there, I am sure he doesn’t have a permit let us go and have some fun” said Sundar.

“I don’t like such things,” stated Ram. Sundar’s heart missed a beat. Ram winked “ I have my principles, if you don’t like them I have others” he guffawed and walked towards the lorry.

The gang of daylight robbers who struck an unsuspecting household got lucky. The politician whose house they barged into had just completed a rich haul in the admissions season that year. Bags of money were befriended and invited for a drive on an old diesel spewing grey Indica.

Being a person with the right and left connections the politician’s wife made a lot of noise some of which were on a telephone to the police control room. All the policemen were sent sms’es on Hutch’s free local sms scheme asking them to lookout for a grey diesel spewing Indica.

Sms being what it is and being free Ram replied to control room asking which route a car would have to take from the politicians house, they said BTM main road leading to the Hosur Road. Ram chuckled, shrugged his shoulders and walked to the nearest Darshini, for another free meal. “Sundar stood there aghast, aren’t you going to go behind the thieves he asked”? “Hard work pays off in the future, laziness pays off now”, lets eat he smiled.

Every time they ate for free Sundar would have liked to laugh his guts out at all those economists who said (“There is no Such thing as a free meal”). An hour and a half later a lunch as sumptuous as the previous day Ram nodded a friendly hello to the owner of Udipi gardens and proceeded to the paan wallah on the pavement. “Mukesh”, he smiled. Mukesh avoided his gaze and swore silently under his breath. He handed out the two “paans”, the cost of owning a shop with no lease.

Ram and Sunder sauntered back to the end of the road. Ram walked on ahead of Sundar and walked slowly amidst a massively clogged road. He waded in between rows of Cars, Vans, polluting lorries, motorcycles aligned perpendicular to the road, and sometimes on pavements, and still Ram kept walking. He called control room. Sundar peeped over Ram’s shoulder as he stood next to a grey diesel spewing Indica.

“Ha ha ha, he guffawed”. I have my principles, and if you don’t like them I have others”, he smiled. They had to be stuck in traffic he told the press later. Funnily the thieves looked a relieved lot when they were picked up by the police van.

“We have stationed our loyal policemen at all signals in the city there is no way some one can get out of the city without spending a few hours at one of these signals. That’s when LUMP acts. As soon as the news of a break in is conveyed our guys grab a quick bite, no point nabbing thieves on an empty stomach and then patiently wade through the traffic to swoop down on their prey” Said a press release from the commissioners office.

Till this day LUMP has those eternal words inscribed on their badges “ We have our principles, if you don’t like them we have others”!

Its been ages

2006-07-29T00:50:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

This is a brave attempt to reignite my blog. Six months later I have changed quite a bit. i have grown from being a single irresponsible person to a married and irresnponsible person.

i have a broadband connection now courtesy BSNL. I have always promised mysefl that lack of such facilities are preventing me from writing , and now I dont have the excuse s to bail me out.

So here goes another promise to kickstart the writing campaign.
A blog a day or more is the promise.

Chao more soon.

Awesome video

2006-01-10T01:28:00.000-08:00

I got this video courtesy Appu. in keeping with the tradition of posting really high quality audio visual content on my blog, here goes
http://www.youtube.com/watch.php?v=JjvzQm4bJ8s

Its a tam special, others with an appreciation for Tam can also enjoy this....

Yo and happy pongal

Helpless

2005-12-29T20:35:00.000-08:00

Helpless, thats exactly what we are. We blame the politicians, they blame each other.
The IISc incident hasnt shaken us, its business as usual in bangalore, like it has been in Delhi, Lucknow, Meerut Bombay,Chennai. Nothing matters to us Indians any more. A call centre employee raped and murdered, oh is it ? How sad ? What's the score by the way ?

We are resigned to our fate. Nothing matters until a disaster strikes us.

How much longer will it take for us to realise, that no one , or nothing will help us. The goverment is a body of inept individuals, struggling to retain power. The only way they can do it is by feeding the corruption and poverty which elected them to the seats that rule.

Face the facts, we educated Indians, can blog, talk endlessly and then immigrate to a greener pasture, but we will never Vote, even worse, we will never strive to reach a seat of power.

Oh politics is too dirty they all say. As long as we entrust our lives to others , we will recieve exactly what we have been getting all along, inefficiency, inaction, danger and death.

You who live in that multi storey complex is not safe any more, you could zoom around in your new Honda city, or be the most emminent Indian researcher on Operation research , danger is only a few blocks away. When you cry, the government will condone and react. It will react inefficiently till the heat dies off, while you are left to tend to your bleeding wounds alone.

In those dark moments when you cry, and cry hoarse blaming the police and the intillegence beaurea , the government and the bad infrastructure and the inept doctors , remember you have no one to blame but yourself.

What we see today is but the inability of educated India to take the brave step into Politics and manage our future. Instead we took the easier routes to the developed world. Things have come to crossroads now, its time NOW to cross the bridge. Its time to rid Politics of illiterate and corrupt vermin.How do you expect a chief minsiter who did not go to school, drive education. development and growth, when he understands nothing of IT, economics, governance or adminsitration. All he knows is politics, he of course is a master of politics, so he knows ignorance and opacity will keep him in power like none other. These educated , noise makers of Bangalore arent worth a vote to him.

Its too crowded for us to register for the elections, and the actual election day clashes with our holiday in Spain, sorry<> thus we all spoke, and now we suffer.

What we see is our collective decision to stay away from the responsibility of power and now we rave and rant, it will go on my friends, it will go on for long.......until .....You or me take the risk of standing in an election.

Cheap Stuff

2005-12-20T02:44:00.000-08:00

I walked in to find Mari's body right next to the door. I walked over. It was death by cranial profusion or something like that. "What?" I told the forensic man", "Cranial Profusion" he replied. I glared at him."Someone knocked his brains out" , he clarified. "That's easier to understand", I told him.

I walked in to the E4 police station in Triplicane. Munusamy was standing at the´gate, you could say slouched. I walked right in. Inspector Ramu was at his desk for a change. Where were you he barked.They killed Mari, I told him. "Who", must be the same Dumil kuppam fishermen.

"I have had enough with these fisherman, and their petty quarrels. It must be Govind, the drunk B&&#¤"¤ has gone too far this time.Bring me Govind, Muthu and Balu. Give them the treatment, one of them will talk. Take the jeep" he said.

"I walked out, and swore at Munusamy, get the jeep, we have work to do", I said. "Its the inspector's, not for jerks like you" he spat. Get lost, I will handle you after I am back.

I drove to Rajesh's house. The servant answered the bell. Where's your boss I asked ? "He's not here" he said. I brushed him past and walked right in. Rajesh was at the mini bar where I expected him to be. "I know it all" I told him."What,"?, Know what" he gasped.
Its all about Rani isn it, i know you have been having an affair with her, Mari knew about it, so you murdered him, I said. "Yes", he replied remorselessly.

"How much , he asked", without turning back. "2.5 large" I said. "Tomorrow at the pier" near Velu wines. "No", I said. "Bring it to the Saidapet station", I want it at 12.00 in the afternoon". "Are you mad ?" You want it during the day, do you want to spend your life behind bars" he muttered. "See you at 12", I said, walking out.

In an hour I had Govind, Muthu and Balu, in the store room. That was police speak for the interrogation cell.I let Munusamy take care of them. Time, oppression, poverty and a diseased mind made sure that this was the only task on the Police duty list that he liked to perform.He nearly smiled at me.

I drove down to the Saidapet station an hour early. I stood on the Overbridge, clamly surveying the platforms. I started with all the rooftops, and then every window. I ticked them off methodically. Rajesh, walked in with a sack. He was drunk and dishevelled. I let him wait for a whole 10 minutes. I was about to walk down, when I caught Rajesh glancing to his right. The Hoardings.

I forgot all about the hoardings.There he sat, with a rifle cocked, lost in Rajnikanth's towering image, invisible to all but someone who was looking for him.I walked down, making eye contact with Rajesh. He always wore goggles when he was drunk, and he slipped a black goggle on. It was a Ray Ban.

I walked down, making sure, I was facing the hoarding all the time. "You'r late", he growled. "2.5 large eh, what will you do with it". "Gimme the sack", I said. Rajesh, pulled it back suddenly and I fell over. I grabbed at it. He smiled, "You want it badly dont you". "He smiled, a devilish smile, one that he had smiled many a time". I realised that the hoarding was behind me now. I could hear the faint silenced shot , and the splatter of blood as the bullet ran through the center of the heart, making a clear exit wound and splattering into the pavement.

Rajesh lay there still smiling. There was a scream, and a commotion as people scatterred. I walked to the nearest tea stall to pick up a cup of tea, before I took the next train to Mambalam. I made a mental note to buy a pair of Ray Ban's when I had the time.

Edhu dhandaaa Punchhuu

2005-12-17T01:02:00.000-08:00

Superstar's "Sivaji" - The Boss May have the following Punch Dialogues.

Punch Dialogue 1 : "Phone Adicha Ringu, Indha Sivaji Adicha Sangu"

Punch Dialogue 2 : "Singathe Konja Mudiyathu, Intha Sivajiya Yaaralum Minja Mudiyathu"

Punch Dialogue 3 : "Thanneera Killa Mudiyathu, Sivajiya vella Mudiyathu"

Punch Dialogue 4 : "Paambai Paathu Padaye Nadungum, Indha Sivajiya paathu Paambe Nadungum"

Punch Dialogue 5 : "Aalu Rounda Iruntha Podhathu, Aatathula All Roundera Irukkanum"

Punch Dialogue 6 : "Amaidhikku Babaji, Adidhadikku Sivaji"

Thalaivaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

aaaaaaa
-Rajni Venki..as per the the Rasigar mandram rules which stipulate tht all followers take the surname of the demi god himself...for eg u wld find Rajni Palani, Rajani Balu, Rajni Murgesss etc , all Rasigars.

One morning

2005-12-15T01:50:00.000-08:00

My life would be dedicated to improving humanity......or so i decided.

I woke up and said, i wont sing loudly, lest I disturb my neighbours. I dropped the waste in the dust bin and walked to office.

As soon as i reached office, I started working and didnt mail any one or take any breaks.I went to the canteen for lunch and then walked back home on time.

My neighbour stood on the porch glaring down on me."Whats wrong with you he said". I looked up amazed, you didnt sing and I woke up late and missed an important meeting in office. Now dont do such things he chided me.

Next morning,I heard a rough rap on my door. It was the corporation cleaner, why didnt you drop your waste bag below the tree. I went looking for it there. Dont leave the waste at home its bad he said.

Buddy walked up, wassup dude, bunked office yesterday eh ?What's wrong with you, no mails at all. Boss walked up, yep man, saw you went for lunch at the canteen, arent you feeling well.

Gawd i told myself, and all you folks too. Just be yourself, the world is tuned to that. Often we try to be something that we are not and that really does'nt help.

One cold wintery evening

2005-12-06T05:53:00.000-08:00

In Chennai, I was sweating profusely. well that's how you feel during most of the year. No, not in summer, you dont sweat because you dehydrate.Rakesh looked at me and smiled.

Why we never knew, but it was obvious in a few minutes. Pallavan, that ubiquitous entity transporting humans alive or dead across Madras had arrived.Its empty he shouted, and I rechecked my coordinates to make sure I was not in the vicinity of an asylum and looked at rakesh again. Come lets go he said again.

The bus was there alright, but I forgot to mention that it was also respectfully bent towards us at an angle of no less than forty five degrees.There were at first glance a million people on the two steps leading into the bus. To their credit, one must observe that they offered willing hands to the remaining million who were attempting to enter the bus.One wondered why they did not make buses which had entrances on all four sides.
Not one to give up so easily Rakesh, pulled me into a melee of arms and armpits all of which belonged to men who possessed a strong distatste for all deodrants and other odourous advertisements.

The resulting clutch of space, oxygen and a wafty aroma, had me swooning in nanoseconds. As i struggled to fight for my freedom, a kakhi clad gent emitted a shrill whistle from a garishly coloured plastic implement and the much maligned bus groaned to life. I saw my freedom vanish, dissolve and then turn a corner.

When you thought you had as much as you can eat in a lifetime, they bring on the Jelabis. Exactly, the sequence as the bus had the audacity to scream to a halt at the next busstation.Already loaded to 350 times its original capacity, a few genrous gents strove to add themselves to the confusion.
A stomped leg, a violent elbow and a pinched tummy later, three of them managed to cling on. As if there was a clock ticking the Khakhi clad man, randomly blew another shrill whislte as the bus shrugged off, a few unwilling youth and a few willing youth too as it continued on its onerous journey.

It was in such disasterous circumstances that I met Mr.Gupta. Mr Gupta was not anyone in particular, but everyone in general. He walked in with the impunity of a Sehwag; and remained rooted to his spot, like he did that for a living. It was his idea of entertainment someone told me later.

Wake up, and walk into a crowded bus. Okay i lied about the wake up part. He continued to sleep and for some starnge reason decided that my back was as inviting as a Maharaja's double cot.He landed his weight on my back and let it stay there for an excruciating five minutes.Not wanting to be cowed down by the weight of Guptas responsibility, I tried to throw his dead weight off my back. Three attempts later, Gupta assumed I was trying to rock him to sleep and snored away in Gay abandon. I had enough.

I had seen enough elbows thrown in EPL and WWF. I shun violence except when I stand a good chance. Against a sleeping frail man, I was pretty sure the odds were in favour. I threw a left elbow that would have made an Eric Cantona proud, or even a vijayakanth without the ropes in Ramana snort in red eyed delight. If you have been a keen observer of nature, you would have observed the rapid and random movements of sleepy men on many occasions. Mr Gutpa chose one of those movements to displace his head which took his head from harms way. Good for him, but the bloody part of the story was to follow.The rpoud elbow, which would have had a Red eyed Vijaykanth snort in delight found its mark on a perfectly decent Knight standing a centimeter behind the sleepy Gupta. The elbow crunched a bone on the Knights nose. He sneezed profusely, everytime eyes growing more red with anger. When he stopped the sneeze I realised the Kinght was a physically gifted human , who had purchased more than his share of muscles from Gods Superstore.

They told me it was not all that bad when I woke up, just a bloody nose and a broken tooth. They said i was very brave. Well Gupta woke up and went home, wondering why people complain about crowded buses and stuff like that, he just didnt know how the red blood stain on his shirt got there !

Just changing fortunes

2005-10-09T00:54:00.000-07:00

Thought of putting up a nothing post, somtimes, there nothing that can change your luck and sometimes, doing nothing changes it all.

Did you know luck was measured in number of comments.

Yo all have a great week, Navarathri, dussera and all that. Hope you all get a day off on Friday to manage a four day weekend.

Chao,
Happy Puja.

Letters from the Heart

2005-09-26T01:52:00.000-07:00

As I return after witnessing yet another epic battle between Prakash Amirtraj and Thomas Johansson, I wonder.
The match was beamed on the sports channel of doordarshan.

Letter to the Director General Doordarshan (India)

Hi,

Have you ever watched TV, i know its an obnoxious question to ask someone who heads the TV netwrok of a large country like ours. But I will repeat it. "Have you ever watched TV", or just for the record , "Do you own a TV" in the first place. Just paying attention to the details, are you afflicted by any variety of blindness?, not myopia or hypermetropia, I am talking about those afflictions that totally impair the visual function.

If you have answered "yes and no" in appropriate proportions, I have no option but to proclaim you absolutely retarded, mentally ill and a curse to society.

My conclusions are as follows. If you have ever switched on a television in India and like the millions of us, surfed channels to chance upon those garbled spots that indicate the arrival of our National television, you will instantaneously realise that, it does not take a man of great accomplishment, education or IQ to declare that its the worst.

By worst I do not mean, relatively speaking, i am not referring to the quality of programming, the commentary, the transmission, I am referring to it all. You Bozo. Are you stark raving mad. How on planet earth is that TV. have you never watched TV, have you no idea what quality exists in this planet, have you never heard decent commentary or viewed news casts that actually mean something. Have you never had the opportunity to watch a programme that you thought was interesting, or have you never heard of ratings and viewer delight.

Then why the @#$%^ are you still alive. As a tax paying citizen of this nation, I ask that you be hanged or shot or both for the gross negligence of duty that you have strived to accomplish in your reign. The sentence should be extended to all of your peers and to all retired Director generals of Doordarshan on priority.

Did it never strike you that there was better technology, transmission, commentary and programming available in the world. have you never discussed improvement at all. If you have not, what then is your job ?
Do you like all of us, go home and watch EPL matches on Star or ESPN and then movies on Star and HBO. If you do, why dont you shut down state owned TV.If you argue that it is for those corners of the country where cable is not viable, then dont they require good quality programming and delivery.

End of mail.
Yours
-V.

Desperation

2005-09-14T22:27:00.000-07:00

Am posting junk in a desparate attempt to keep my blog alive. Okie....what is that one thing I ahve not blogged about. This one I thought should be out of the world and it will be.

As I gazed into those dark skies, I could see nothing, You have to remove the cover on the telescope, Babu suggested. I took it off. I still could not see much. You need wear your spectacles he clarified again. Still I couldnt see much.Its the pollution and its clouded he said. My brush with astronomy had started. It was obvious I would not have much to contribute.

As soon as I was born, many were the soothsayers who professed, he is someone who will be remembered for a long time to come. He is the dumbest human I have met they all said, and I smiled in joy.

Dumb Jagan I was called in school, DJ for short. As I grew up and saw all those ad's for DJ's I was thrilled.I still kept gazing at the skies through Babu's telescope.They took me on a trip outside the city and I could see the stars at last.Count it they said and fell asleep.

There were 100 of them in the sky. I could not count more so, I restarted many times.Soon I had restarted a 100 times.Since I could not restart again, I fell asleep.

In a paralell universe, they were experimenting with Inter universe Mass transfer. They regularly hyperported the dumb from their universe to ours. There is a country of parallel porters now. We call it the USA.
Sometimes you could apply for a re- Port back to home universe. It was in the combing operation that they found me and assumed I had lost my digital identity so they sent me back as a refugee.

It seemed just the same as our world on Day 1.

We had the refugee's day out yesterday. They took us to the moon for dinner. You could say "I was over the moon" with joy".Here time they say moves a little faster. In the equivalent of Bangalore there is a new CM.

After Dharam Singh died they called him "Dharam Sang". While many here still wonder if Dharam was a musician, when I told them he was not, they silently wondered why every one asked him to Singh.
I told them Sardars were also called Singh. They think Punjab is a musical state because its filled with Singh's.

When I protested and asked them to send me back, they said it was the PUS (Parallel Universe Syndrome).

Grief in New Orleans

2005-09-05T23:39:00.000-07:00

Please join me in donating INR 1 towards all the flood victims in New Orleans. This is a token of my grief to all those misery stricken americans who have been wrecked by Katrina.
Three people killed them selves because the TV stations were not broadcasting for three days in a row. Not having done more than watching the TV for most of their lives, they had but one way out.

There was no way that expensive Mercs or those high quality Toyota's could be driven on those waterways, sorry freeways, so another three people bit the bullet, I mean come on can you walk from one place to another, how un civilised.

The INR 1 is also in gratitude to the US for the large donation that the US offered to Indian Tsunami victims, a whole some 15 Million $, which was less than the number of people affected by the disaster.

Not a problem, thanks for your generosity. Oh you had a calamity. hope you are having trouble. Hope your losses are high and those broken freeways stay that way for long.
We had one too in Mumbai. People were out on the streets, providing free food, water, shelter, protection and a lot more. Well, we are a developing nation. Poverty, strife, crumbling infrastructure and uncivilised people, who just happened to be Nuclear powers and have space launch capabilities.

Sorry, we also have a heart, and we work with it.Not everything is profitable, even if we have to spend a day without food because the Vada Pav seller gave away all his days sale free to hungry passersby, we will go on like this.

The most advanced nation with its systemic response and its educated citizens responded to the calamity too, in style. They started with arson, tears, criticism and looting.

Often i ask myself what is development, where should we head. While I dont know the answer to that question, i do know one thing, where we should not go.We should never want to go in the direction of the US.

The US is what I call a cannibalistic nation, that needs to feed of other weaker powers to keep its own fires burning."Vietnam, Lebanon, Bosnia, Korea, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan,Libya, Philippines " is only a incomplete list of countries that they have harmed. I have left out Japan, because they are now an extension of the US.

The US seeks to come up with rules and logic to support the numerous wars that it wages, while it is but common knowledge what they seek.

If they gave India civilian Nuclear power, it has three primary reasons:
1) The Indian's already have it, and they will find a way around it any ways, which they always do, but this will make the US look good diplomatically and politically. (On the surface reason).

2) Ulterior : Most of America's back office and IT systems are being powered in India, business in the US will stop if India is without electricity. This is a situation that has to be averted at any cost. Business must go on.

How long will this continue, not for long. We all know that. The sun will rise in the East sooner than later, and soon we will don the mantle of the rich, rather than the poor or deprived. How we carry that responsibility will decide our place in History. Will we seek to bully the poor or cheat the ignorant or will we seek to stabilize and propogate rather than profit, no one knows.

Will we lose our culture or impose it on others ? The pessimistic amongst will stop me in my tracks while they ask, will we be rich ?

Quickie

2005-09-02T03:22:00.000-07:00

Hot Masala dosa in Upahara Mandir and a tea at nair kadai later, I was ready to save the world.On the way I saw that they had put up posters of Salman's new movie, there were three 10th standard girls and a corpse.
I choose the row with the girls.The world can wait I told myself. Salman is a troubled human, as you all might have guessed. With Aishwaraya and Katrina on his list of girl friends, life sucks big time for ol Sallu. So he acts, when he's angry, he acts, when he's happy he acts ....when he's sad.

-No body watches though. The girls squealed for a few minutes and then realised it was time for class and left.
That left me and the corpse. Sallu went on acting and the dead man decomposed faster and faster and then the cleaner took the body away, so much for cleansed multiplexes.

Soon it was me Sallu and few molecules of decomposed man in the hall.Then I left and Sallu smiled in relief. He won yet again. There were aliens landing in Aunachal Pradesh. "WHy do they always land in Cleveland Ohio" asked the lead alien, and so the landing site was decided.

The BSF watched the landing, and thought it was Sanjay Dutt's movie shooting and went out to watch a cricket match between India and Zimbabwe. The head of the Jawans, in any case felt that the spacecraft was in Chinese territory.

The Chinese were watching this too. They had cheated for so long on the maps and the borders, that they werent sure who was right. They didnt want to own the problem, so they redrew the borders and retreated a few yards. All chinese schools were given reprinted textbooks and paper costs spiralled, but this later.
An american reconnaissance Vehicle which noticed the move , notified the CIA that the Chinese were pulling away from the borders, they hailed it as a victory for Indian diplomacy.

Soon Subedhar Roop Singh Harvail was promoted to Senior Subedhar Roop Singh Harvail. Since Subedhar could not spell Senior he was very happy. It was only three days later that he realised that since every one in the regiment was promoted he still had to carry the Cofee for the Captain.

RAW had by then outsourced intelligence to a few companies in Phillipines, who in turn re-sourced intelligence from Hungary, who strategically sourced it from India. Since we were the only ones working on the planet, our intelligence, both physical and national were safe.

I worked for the BPO who viewed this as a critical intrusion and sent the cheapest resource they could find to investigate this. I looked around for jobs, but I had worked in all the other companies before so I could not quit, thus I made my journey to Arunachal Pradesh.

Like a hamburger olive mutant it (The space sheeeepp) stood there gleaming in the sun. I walked to it and took a much needed leak near what looked like the front wheel. Out ran an alien with six eyes and three heads. Can't you read it screamed, It says Do not Urinate here. I laughed, "So" I said.

The three heads pondered my question, while I popped a packet of pan parag after my noon meal.The alien spoke, Hi, he stretched a hand out. I looked at him in suspicion, dont you speak tamil I asked, looking for a place to spit. I looked down and he understood and took a few steps backwards aghast at the thought of what I was about to do. I spat against the front wheel again.

It resembled the Bangalore city station now. I was feeling more at home. i walked a few yardsand spread my sheet there, and started playing three cards with myself. I looked at the alien, "Sure ? " he offered.I cheated on him for the next six games, and he paid me fourteen Galactic Gaja's."You are dishonest and untidy" he told me.

I laughed at him, "if you are not you are from another planet", I mocked him. I abused him, his parentage and ancestry. That was uncalled for he said. I swore more,"Your jokes are out of the world" I told him.He felt troubled.I'll never come here again, he said and left in a jiffy. There were a hundred of them he told me.
Never again here he promised me.

I saw them take off. Nothing spectacular, I ve seen better in Independence day I told him.
I went back home and filed my report. Another unimpressive document on MS Word. They put it under, Saved the world directory.We save the world so unimpressively, two wise old men told me during my appraisal, cant make a movie or sell branded stuff. You need to be more spectacular they told me. You guys got any better jobs ?

Geez these Ozzies

2005-08-28T22:53:00.000-07:00

The poms won yesterday, did they ? To me there was only one thing on display. The aussies who refused to lose. "You never know" they told themselves , and we never did.Geez these aussies they never say die.35 for no wicket after 5. Defending a ridiculously low 130, they never said die.

Much will be said about the aussie defeat. To me, the anguish that they suffer in swallowing defeat starts with the Ricky outburst and the Katich dissent. When you want to win, you first refuse to lose.When you hate losing so much you find a way around it.

This ashes is far from over. Ageing australia, displayed what it is made up of. Brett lee's lightning to Andrew Flintoff, and Warnie's magic. Warne, that old soldier from an era, when the aussies conquered everyhting in their path, has snatched many a victory from defeat. This Aussie team is unlike the Old west indian team under Clive lloyd. While the latter were supremely talented and were head and shoulders above the rest of the cricketers of their era, the aussies have conquered more with will than with skill. While a lot has been said about Matty Hayden's batting and Ricky's abilities, it has been the stoic Mcgrath and clearly the one great Aussie champion of all time Warne that have done the trick for them.

Brett Lee, has shown the heart that makes the aussie an aussie.While the agression and the intent was there, the skill has been lacking for quite some time now. Damien Martyn, played those magnificient knocks in india more with his heart than his hands.

These are lessons for all of us. While I digress and philosophise, pardon me for my adrenalin still pumps, when I glimpse last evening.There is nothing that is destined and nothing more shameful than giving up without a fight, fight till the last ball, fight tooth and nail, your hands will bleed and your shoulders ache but your will just grows stronger and you clench with more vigour. There is no letting go. Fight!! That is the one word that you should strive for. More often than not, its the lack of competition and the aimlessness of life that leaves us disinterested and bored. Start competing and fighting, you will find more reason to live and less to complain. Go for that one promotion you were denied, or that pretty girl who refused you. Take the CAT again and the other exams that you have shuddered against.

We Indians have a lot to fight for. We have poverty, crumbling infra and our dilapidated socieities, but the fight has always been a part of us. Never forget that we were the ones who stopped the rampaging aussies in the Mythical test in Calcutta and fought those bloodless wars to drive the English away. Where is that fight today, maybe we just need a spark that will tell us what we are fighting for.We will do an aussie someday, and I have no shame and applauding those incomparable champions, who compete day in and day out.

The ashes are far from over. Like a Phoenix the Aussie will rise from the dust, and a new India crafted from today's crumbling ruins.

Nit Picking-

2005-08-24T23:32:00.000-07:00

I was resisting the tempation to write something interesting. After all there are so many people who resist this temptation every day. This blog is dedicated to one of them.

It certainly is a titanic struggle and deserves more land and dedicated memory space than Raj ghat.

Why should I write something interesting is the question they ask themselves everyday. Is'nt that the same thing that newspapers, bloggers, TV programmes and sports administartors are trying to do every day.
They pay attention to every detail; First have a wierd blog name and then a equally obnoxious tag line.Just when you thought that this was as uninteresting as it gets, they ask you to stand up and applaud. Why because they then start posting blogs.

Long, short, tags, anecdotes, movie reviews , the colors of the sky, their new skirts, or torn T shirts, the last movie thay saw, the only poem they understood. Soon you realise that uninteresting comes in many shades of life.
The most talented amongst them even make the ashes seem like a blisterting Rahul's fifty in a match saving test in Bulawayo.

Like in the movies, you are done with it, kind of got your money's worth, but you stand and leave with leaden feet waiting for the small change.The uninteresting do the same too. When you are done with their posts, your eyes flit to the URL, but you gulp down the last words and then you gaze at the last link.

It hits you like a million sledge hammers, like a person near the conductor on a crowded PTC bus.You look at the comments section. Three figures. You never learnt that there were so many numbers.You never knew there were so many bloggers. You never saw so many comments.

You asked yourself like you asked yourself after every exam result, after every time you lost your wicket, or every smash that flew beyond the table or the sidelines, or every joke of yours that nobody laughed at...why ?
So when i took the train to Bodh Gaya to meditate under the Mango tree (cos the Bodhi Tree was interesting), I asked myself why ?

Twenty days of meditation, I realised that all I could think of was actresses in slinky costumes, the nair and his tea stall, or the masla dosa at the Ganga Hotel. Every hour my fingers yearned for the remote to flit from one uninteresting channel to the other.Twenty days later, I was bored. Meditation was as uninteresting as it gets. It was only when the Ticket checker hauled me out for ticketless travel, that it struck me.

Like a bolt out of the blue, like a Sehwag fifty, it was a strike so short and clear.
The world is uninteresting. Your job is, so is mine. Your weekends are boring, your friends and your girl friends, the TV, your blog, the same old songs on SS music at midnight everything is.

So why do you strive, you mortal, do you seek to change the world that I have so craftily put together. Do you dare to make it more interesting , how dare you ? Says a voice form above. The uninteresting call him God!!

"Cursed are those with no comments ,interesting who's blogs strive to be" is an old adage in Uninteresting country.

Part 2 - Reading the comments of uninteresting bloggers!!

"Been a long time"

2005-08-22T02:59:00.000-07:00

I told him as I walked alongside the docks at Eriksberg. The large red crane loomed above us like a big Iron hammer. The wind was chilly and the screaching gulls were the only signs of life. We stood there peering into the sun, yet wondering how something so bright could warm us so little.

How are things he asked me?

I fell in love I told him as a matter of fact. Hmm he nodded. So, we stood still for a few minutes. I think I will marry her I said. He was quiet. " Dont you want to take some more time", he asked. How much more ? I asked. I mean till your sure. Yeah I understand. How long does it take to be sure ? He smiled. He looked at me. I dont know , may be a month, maybe a year he said. How about ? One evening, I said.

How can that be enough ? How can you possibly know everything about someone in an evening ?

"You guys all got it wrong", I said.

He looked up at me. Its not about knowing the other person or some such shit.

"Its about giving it all up". He was surprised. Yepp, I nodded. You just look into her eyes and tell your self, "Yes, I will give it all up for her". That's what took me just one evening.

He was amused, he had never heard me speak with so much conviction.

I walked away from him. He was just surprised. The pier seemed longer than usual.I walked briskly. He was only surprised ,I was shocked! So that's how I fell in love I told myself.

Imagine

2005-08-04T02:33:00.000-07:00

Imagine you are sitting in the office late one evening trying to work for a few minutes for all the money that you are being paid.Imagine a pretty lady sitting next to you confesses to being a blogger herself and asks you to proof read a spirit laden post of hers.

Not being too interested in work you jump into the task on hand.Having spent a long time away from the bottle and good company sleazy jokes and funny thoughts overwhelm your thoughts.

You offer to improve the humor in the world and suggest you start with your neighbours blog. As the comedy begins, the lady laughs politely and you are encouraged. Then you are faced with that eternal imposter - A huge lack of ideas, and it hits you hard. Real hard. Not to mention the lateness of the day and a low IQ.

Since giving up was not the first lesson your mom taught you (I dont remember the others!), you fail to give up and plod on. In a while you dont need a customer feedback form to know the result of the survey.

Again since giving up was not the first lesson your mom taught you, you mutter something about coming back the next day and improving the humor in the world.In your haste you also fail to understand the incredible plot that the story actually is.

As you begin your day your neighbour confesses to anulling all your changes. She also goes onto tell you how you are the next best thing in humor to the Chappelle show (making you wonder if sarcasm had tied up with the sensex).

Later you read the story and marvel at the plot. You wonder how god gave some people the ability to make the right choice.( You also wonder how many such people exist considering that I am still single!).
You appreciate the story and moe on with life. Imagine if all this were true!

Some thing to be proud of

2005-08-01T07:32:00.000-07:00

Ive changed a bit. Now that's a big statement and those who know me or those who dont know me, would sneer anyways, because its fashinable to sneer. While that in itself a nice topic to discuss, we digress , I have some thing to be proud of.

Well because of my quaint exposure to a culture non Indian for a few nano months, I realised that I was wishing sweepers and was being polite to waiters, just because they were foreign, while they continued to be indifferent, they were just serving another customer. I would be conscious about stepping on their feet, letting them pass, wishing them good night and thanking them. What a fool I was. While that was not bad, I thought why dont I do the same to my countrymen, my brothers.

I scream at the waiter, if the food was a minute late, i would curse him and the society at large. I would blame a million things. While when we are away we tend to be infinitely patient, but it just goes to show that we have a nice side in us, which we do not express for whatever reason. The upshot being that we respect human beings as such and not for what they are.

While if you have not fallen asleep with my ramblings, the story goes thus.

After shopping at Big Bazaar, G and I rushed into a restraunt close by, which being in bengluru and being sunday night, and being begluruites where nobody cooks..the restraunt was flooded.G picked up a fight with the guy who was allocating seats, who was doing an admirable job considering the rush, while I waited patiently (Proud point 1).

Later when we got a place, the waiter came and we placed our orders. As our orders arrived, he served the alu gobi masala and the dhal, both of which were hotter than Mallika sherawat in a low cut blouse.
As he picked up the container to serve us, he was clearly struggling. I picked up the napkins and passed them on, saying "Why dont you use this". He was shaken. No one had ever done this. He was a waiter and he was expected to stand a 1000 degrees of heat, abuses in many languages, work hours we didnt even know exist and get paid lower than our daily allowances.

"Thank you sir", he said, and took the napkin, serving more comfortably.

Later when we finished the meal he brought us our finger bowls. As i poured cold water into my bowl, G looked at me. He had just dipped his hands in the bowl, as he brought scalded fingers out, he asked how did you know the water was hot.
"The waiter told me", I smiled. The world is a circle and it goes round. I just hope it keeps my humble and more considerate towards my fellow Indians.

Mumbai Magic

2005-07-29T00:13:00.000-07:00

The land that gave us Sachin, Shah Rukh and the Shahenshah, has made us proud once again. Any one who has been there will tell you.

"Its different", no its not the old maggi tag line. Its the magic of the dainty damsel, it is Mumbai magic.
Its bad, its crowded, its dirty, its dangerous, its tedious, its sapping but you never ever think about these things. I walk into an autorickshaw at 3.00 am in the morning. There is'nt a sleepy eye, but a pair of eyes that an investement banker would be proud of, so professionally he nods. Not a blink when its the same 10 bucks in the middle of the night as it is during the day.

From singing bhajans, on trains where you cant distinguish your ass from your neighbours, to ferying dabba's and fervently praying to Ganesha and managing 5 million more people than bangalore can ever without a whimper, Mumbai is clearly a cut above all the rest.

Water gushing, rains that threaten to knock your head off, no electricity, no transport, no one to call your own, just look up and there's a mumbaikar, with a hot tea and biscuts. If your legs are weary put it up on my sofa, no matter its new, men over material.
Honor me by eating in my home, sleep even if it means I have to stand out in the cold.

Long ago i was taught "Athithi devo bhava" (The guest is god)..This city has redrawn the map of humanity. With a city like this amongst our midst, i have no worries, Salute Mumbai and its undrownable spirit.

Yo Mumbai rocks!

Raju Bhaiya

2005-07-28T01:11:00.000-07:00

"Dei", I 'll beat you up if you are writing the script for a new Govinda movie. No way di, I am not Dhawan. I was referring to a different raju bhaiya. the one who brings Tea to our desks, or presses our cloths, the guy who spends a sleepless and frightening night driving buses on our cluttered highways.

"Oh , psenti trip", Sooper machchi. Why do you have to pick me for these. Give me a minute I will run for a cup of tea, and you can talk to Anu, or Seema.

Come on how apathetic can you be. Dont you ever think about them?
Ya, I do, like....wow, the washerman looks handsome, check out the ironwalla's biceps..in fact I keep thinking about Kumar my driver.

Shucks...how low can you stoop ? Ya, kumar is where i stop, I dont look at my watchman, I am scared of his big mustache.
Its pointless trying to talk to you. You bet, who wants to talk. You gotta get fast mate. Did I tell you about Lavanya's incident.
No, i turned around. The one where she kissed that guy on the elevator and then asked him his name.Shucks, I have had enough. I spent a year buying her everything she wanted. Yep, you were such a jerk, she got bored of waiting and that's when she started hanging out with that macho Arun.

You mean...., yepp...I mean.I think I need some fresh air. "Ramesh, its Kool man, these things happen". "I never kissed my boyfriend for two whole years". "Why ? I turned around". "He had braces, and I couldnt reach him".
"What the H@#$...when was this ?". "When we were in the 6th standard."

Ramesh, left in a hurry. "Auto", he screamed. " Where to boss", he queried. "Anywhere, just get the hell out of here". Ramesh always had afterthoughts, more like the aftershocks that keep sweeping the Andaman's just to make sure they did their job properly.

"What's your name". "Raju", actually Rajasekhar, but people call me Raju.

Infrastructure

2005-07-25T00:56:00.000-07:00

It has been doing more than its share of rounds. First its good we have started talking about it. Two, trips anywhere in south India, show results, it shows miles of highways being built, decent quality, four lanes but then they make me wonder, what on earth were we doing without it.

As the bus weaves through myriad paths on the existing roads, I am filled with fear. I am surprised, I have never felt so scared. The bus seems extremely flimsy and unstable. All I can think of is the toppling torque that will flip us over if some one attempted to stop this inefficient mechanical device of iron, tin and rubber.

As you look around, you can see atleast 10 design blunders, finishing inefficiencies and examples of what low quality is all about. Its not about education any more. I think as people we lack the commitment, sincereity towards most of what we do. The lacklustre attitude has kept this country from progressing.

The reason why countries like Japan are where they are today is because of the unending search for perfection. Slowly you realise how nothing including life has too much value here. As I watch the movie anniyan, I fail to see how any of thsoe incidents will not affect the common man of today. Bad roads, and live wires have seen enough children exit the planet for no fault of theirs, but we as human beings, as fellow countrymen, continue to live firmly with one thought, Ignorance is Bliss. As long as its not soem one we know, there is the numb reaction to daily inefficiencies.

We are brought up with semons of practicality. You cannot change the world. Learn to live with it. We can't do much about it. When in God's name will we ask these insane elderly of ours to stop and start the fight.

Its something each one of us can do. We can start of with as I tell myself by adopting a modicum of discipline in our own lives. No spitting on the streets, no littering, no pissing on the streets. Tell people or pick that odd piece of paper and drop it into the bins.

I keep dreaming of a day when the billion of us decide to clean our country out. All it needs is some spark to ignite. Every shopkeeper decides to make his shop look a little smarter. We decide to paint our dreary houses, maybe get a little inventive, paint a krishna or a Rama on our house walls.

Maybe plan a clean our locality drive, like congregate in Kodambakkam station and offer to clean and paint out the pan stains on the walls.

There is a little the government can do improve the quality of our lives, but there is a lot more we can do.
When will we start......for I know when we do, it will be the day when we have the right infra-structure!

ps: To all of u riding bikes, please stick your blood group and a emergency contact number on your vehicles, more than anything it shows that we have become responsible.

Chilling out

2005-07-19T23:47:00.000-07:00

I just realised I have been writing some real serious stuff off late. Any one who knows me will vouch that it is a huge departure from my normal self. Suddenly I sit down at coffee day with the following conversation for company

Me to the guy across the counter : " can I have some outrageously priced coffee please"
Guy across counter : " Sure, do u want it with exorbitant, "will ad a million calories cream", or its certainly not worth it syrup"
Me : none of those just the costly coffee please...
Guy : Sure, here u go...ur coffee...and a bill with"u got to be kidding taxes" on it....

Thus I sat down to think.

Do I suffer from multiple personality disorder "that seems to be the in thing, with Thalaivar and Shankar giving it a fillip".....
Suddenly it dawned upon me ...it was the reverse.......
I rose sharply....overturning the table and spilling the unaffordable coffee..on an equally maddening floor.Eureka I screamed, nobody cared......
"I didnt have a personality" that's clearly the problem........

I walked upto the counter...ur coffee worked I told him. "It always does"...he smiled

Losers

2005-07-17T21:04:00.000-07:00

Lost the world cup final to australia. Lost the second round of wimbledon. Lost the battle to the UNSC to USA's diplomatic firepower. Lost the oscars, lost the Intel deal. lost face in the volkswagen deal. Lost the 3 place in hockey to a resurgent spain. Lost the fight to the finals to Australia.

Lost our independence for 300 years. Lost battles of attrition to Pakistan, lost to Poverty, lost to religion and communalism. lost to corruption, beaureycracy, red tape.

Lost talent to richer countries, lost the need to stand up and fight. lost our spine somewhere down the way. Lost the need for cleanliness or sanitation. Lost the desire to ask for comforts. Lost the need to eradicate poverty. lost the need for safety.

Lost the ability to think. Lost to politics, government, burgeoning population. Lost every olympic event we ever particiapted in. Never...never..won an Olympic gold.

Not worth talkign about in football. Lost every formulae 1 race that we represented. Lost the fight to 3rd place , where only 4 drivers graced the track.

Lost cooperation, lost oyur faith, lost our wealth.Slowly losing our mind.

Will we ever win.....please O lord...take somethign away from the white man, give us our sanity,pride and not just a will to win...but Victory itself.

Sarpanch and the water carrier (contd.)

2005-07-06T03:29:00.000-07:00

Dhano felt the blood spurt on her face, as she sank the sharp metal into the Sarpanch's belly. She felt the hot blood on her face, and it felt salty and sticky as it ran down her face. She kept stabbing, till those weak arms would move no more.She had no idea blood was that hot.

It was late in August, when Bhavani, knew that rain or shine, he would have a green harvest. the yield was among the best in the district. Dhano, " Idhaar aaa re", Dekh, dharthi maa ne kya diya" (Come here Dhano, see what Mother earth has given) he shouted. Dhano came running into his arms.

Bhavani had sold the yield to the Food corporation of India at government prices. He did not want to sell to the Sarpanch, who promised higher rates. He knew that the Sarpanch, cheated on weights as he sold the rice to Ration shops for a kickback.

Three meals, a house, a white dhoti and Dhano, bus mera Zindagi daudega (my life will run), he used to say. The money from the harvest, meant that Bhavani could buy a brand new pump set, repair the house and buy a few cows.
He however bought Dhano a necklace of Gold first. They then went to the temple where he dropped a bundle of notes.They fed the kids in the neighbourhood.

It was during the summer when Dhano was carrying water that the Sarpanch accosted her. ("Kya Dhano, Bhavani ka, achcha hull sona ugaya kya". "Gale mein kya sone aur chaandi chamak rahen hai, mere saath aa, tujhe heere bhi dhikatha hoon" ( hey dhano, looks like bhavani's plough hit gold this year, Yu have gold and silver glittering on your neck, come with me and you can also have diamonds").

Dhano always kept a Long steel ladle handy, to dole out water to thirsty kids as they run upto her.Dhano reversed the ladle, and her eyes blazed as metal met the Sarpanch.

Bhavani, knew when the sun reached Panchim's hut that there was soemthing amiss.He saw Dhano, and there was no word spoken. Bhavani dug the earth, as they buried the Sarpanch right at Dhano's feet.

Dhano walked into the village with the blood on her face and steel ladle in her hands. They all knew what had happened. They fell at her feet.They called her dhano maa. Dhano would not say a thing.

Bhavani, washed the blood off her face, fed her and Dhano went to sleep like a baby.

It was three weeks before Purushottam landed on the scene. The Poilce had to do soemthing about a missing Sarpanch. His Son in the city had registered a complaint.

"Bhavani " he called out. " oh come in Sir,what will you have ?" Bhavani ushered the inspector of police in.

(TBC).....

Sarpanch and Water Carrier

2005-07-01T01:12:00.000-07:00

The sands of Rai Barielly hosts many a livelihood.The fertile silts of the gangetic plains kept green velvets of paddy fluttering in the winds.The neem trees hosted restraunts of shade under them.The myna's flew formations that the Mirage fleets of today still desire to perfect.

The soil was dark and smiled at you with quenched throats.Bhavani Prasad, looked at the world with a smile on his face. His feet were fast, words kind and thoughts clear." Dhano", he called out unlocking his sandals. "Its hot he remarked with a smile, what have you made for lunch ?". You never carry the umbrella and always forget your buttermilk, when will you ever listen". Bhavani smiled. Dhano was a kid, always fettering about the most unnecessary things and talking strong words when trouble visited them.

It was three monsoons ago that trouble decided to stay over for longer than the Bhavani household was used to.The moneylenders shook the knockers with the sun and would not let go till the cows retired to the sheds.The rain spat with a vengence and washed away everything that Bhavani planted. Bhavani continued smiling.

Dhano, never asked him for anything. They had not eaten for three days, when Dhano walked to him smiling. See I have become as pretty as I was when you married me, she said.Only Bhavani knew that it meant that she had lost 5 Kilos that summer.

That day Bhavani did not smile.

Dhano had walked over 5 miles from the well, her steps were laboured and her throat parched. That was when she met Radha from the next village.
I was talking to radha didi, Dhano told Bhavani. yes he looked up. She was saying that some new things are happening in the city. She said that her neighbour went to Bombay and become a Lakhpati. Was he a crorepati before Bhavani joked. Dhano looked hurt, listen na, she implored. Yes, he now acts in some films. You look better than any one else in the village, why should you not try it out she said.

I would have to kiss other women, touch them and a lot more, if you are okay with it, i will go to bombay Bhavani said. Dhano looked shocked, but you can be a comedian, or something where they dont touch women she continued.Bhavani looked shocked this time, are you saying I look like a comedian he laughed.

That's where that topic stopped.Bhavani's crops were green. The skies were grey, they looked angry and blasts of lightening threatened to rip his eyes out.

Bhavani looked at Dhano and they cried. It was the same story every year. The rains always came when the crops were ripe and washed everythign away. There were no half measures, not a grain was left standing. It was going to rain again.

TBC....

The serpants strike back

2005-06-30T03:27:00.000-07:00

I am thinking aloud : What do I write about ?

I always end up writing about
1) Cricket
2) Women
3) Comments on my blog
4) India
5) My travels

and the same things in different permutations. Why dont I write stuff like Jupiee does
he writes about
1) love
2) how he fell in love
3) how loadsaa women fell in love with him
4) Love in movies and their lists
5) Movies he watched with women he was in love
6) Love songs
7) Love Stories (Imaginary and more Imaginary)
8) Reviews...some longer than the movies themselves...of course of love (ly) lovies

or Like Rajeshwari who writes about
1) Chennai
2) Autos in Chennai
3) Places where the autos in Chennai stop
4) What happened in places where the autos stopped etc

or like others
1) Who write about short love stories and how they learnt to write short love stories...

Of course all the above bloggers other than me are imaginary....

So I went onto think about what I could write
1) Women in India
2) How Bangalore can improve its Infrastructure
3) How India can be a rich country
4) What is morality
5) Should we drink, pot and make merry
6) marriage and its meaning
7) Travelling in india
8) how can we contribute to our economy and our country

Some use ful stuff there.....

Of course following the Mahatma's principles of practice what You preach I will sit down to write on the above mentioned topics too. Of course it would be great to see more blogs on Points 7 and 8.

Chao from me for now.

Of course I will continue to write about Soma sporadically, about cricket regularly and about women till I get married!

Soma and the Serpants

2005-06-29T04:07:00.000-07:00

I have no idea how I have not blogged about Soma. Age has really caught up with me.

Move over Lords, Melbourne and Eden gardens. Welcome to the heart of cricket. Welcome to Soma. If you walk down to Vivek & Co , in North Usman road and cross the small street to enter Soma / Somasundaram grounds, a whole new world waltzs...nay.....crickets in front of you.

Ram and I Parked the matiz beneath our usual tree. Do you remember where this tree came from he asked. I thought for a minute, ya you are tight it wasnt there before. Then I continued to reason, if it was then we could not have had leg side runs. Yes, Ram nodded.

It was Sunday evening and business as usual, no not as usual it was a little better. They wore many colours, they used different implements which they presumed were Bats. The played with balls of different colours and makes. Some of them were rich and some from the poorest of homes. They all did one thing, they played cricket like their lives depended on it.

The heat, dust, facilities, crowds, spectators, nothing matters. Match after match is competed in fervour. The team in the yellow T shirt was bowling. The batting team had all its non playing members some 0.35 feet behind the stumps in an arc from thirdman to point.

Ram , remarked, now that is the closest set of spectators in any sport. Its too close even for billiards.
"Machchi, rajess suma stroke vechchu aadu ma", " Rajesh swung with all his might and connected it was two runs to his credit"

Sopperaa aadaran maa rajesh, said the crowd. Rajesh swung at the next ball and missed. They cursed in unison.

Ram and I had seen enuf. It was business as usual at Soma.
Soma had seen many Venki's and Ram's play but for us it will always remain our one and only point of singularity.....The bond of Soma...we our team..The snakes who fought many a battle, won a few, lost a lot, but never lost their love for the game. The Soma-Serpants........

False Bandha

2005-06-16T06:54:00.000-07:00

Kamal woke up drunk and irritated. It was 11 on the clock. Time to get to work. He sauntered into the udipi resteraunt he worked in. Dei, Kamal always late after your nightly flirtations with liquor, go to the customer on table 3,right away. Kamal walked nay dragged himself there.

Peter was sitting there with another pretty thing. "When I was in Miami last fall...."he drawled on. "Machchi stop the false bandha , thought Kamal to himself. "Sir", kamal stopped near the table waiting to take the order.
Peter looked up irritated at the break in flow, "hey dude, do you mind, we are undecided, he drawled with an accent heavier than yokozuna's backside.

"Hrumph...", Kamal stared back. "Oh sorry, I said that in english didnt i, its just practice, "Peter smiled at Tara, I must change, you know. "unnum konjam time please", he spoke in heavy tamil, and huffed like the effort had drained him, like a foreign tongue spoken with great effort.

When kamal left, Peter smiled at Tara and spoke more about last fall.
There were no other customers, kamal was irritated, he wanted to finish the order and catch a few more winks.He walked back to Peter, and stood with no attempt to disguise his irritation. Peter caught the hint, "Okie time to order, "he smiled at Tara.

"I'll have ham and some bacon, some Lime Soda, shaken but not stirred", Peter said.Kamal looked at him patiently.What are you staring at, go get my order, said Peter.

Kamal walked off.

Peter smiled at Tara, but she looked dazed it was more than she could fathom.Peter had flown in a chopper through the Grand canyon, and swam or nearly did something like that in the Niagra. Tara had all the while thought the the Niagara was New Agra, but it seemed to be a lot more than that.

Suddenly Kamal walked upto Peter, sir phone call for you. Peter smiled at Tara, my 3G mobile doesnt work here you see. Peter looked at Kamal and said, who is it and ask what they want ? Must be my friends they can't stop asking me for gifts, such a pain you know.Last time...suddenly Peter stopped it struck him, but Kamal was back.

Kamal smiled, he looked at Tara, she looked quite pretty. "Its your mom sir, she said there is a Policeman who has come for enquiry regarding your passport application."

Bublic Demands

2005-06-12T08:19:00.000-07:00

Loadsa work, deadline on Monday, Conference calls galore, "Hey Venks when can i call you on Sunday", , Hey you just called me, I said it was 8.00 am on Sunday and I was talking work.

Dude, You cant reach me, the whole day. Why, he asked. I am going to get some provisions for the week. You see even though I love to work i have to live."Kool" he said and I hung up.

I had a quiet breakfast of cereals and took the 9.30 Tram to Kviberg. Shiva was 30 mins late. 30 mins feels like an awfully long time in this lonely country. We walked quickly across the football fields and there it was lush green grass, green mat and players in whites.

I was going to play cricket in Sweden, a full fleged one with a team from Lund (males no jokin here, its pronounced diff from the hindi swear).

The team I was in had 6 Paki's, . Hello , I am Anwar he said, Imran, Jude. There was another guy wearing a Kiwi all blacks cap. You a Kiwi eh, I showed off. Yes, he said looking surprised. Venki, Kelly he said. I am going in next, he said, can you roll your arm over. Sure thing mate. Meanwhile, feroz the manager of the team with the Paki guys, brought some portable mats and i started bowling. Kelly was really ols, around 40 and he just did not lay bat on ball. I told myself is he from the land of Greatbatch and Fleming.

Shaun, said the scotsman with a cros dangling from his ear.Anwar and Jude, swished a bit and were back in the pavilion before long, Kelly was soon cursing. His words were heartfelt. "I aint even a batsmen, why am I going in at four", he swore.

(That's what I thought, I told myself). Your next Anwar prodded. Sure thing, I looked for some pads, there were none that matched, I put on un matching pads and looked around for a bat. No 5 was plumb in front, I walked in, it was grey in the sky. I breathed deeply, I was actully playing cricket in Sweden.

All the pressure was forgotton. Shaun and I spoke at the wicket, stay there he said. We did just that for the next five overs, and the runs were coming freely. Balu came in to bowl. Close to 45, bald, and with the manner of the physiscist that he was, he dropped those offspinners on the spot. You should be hitting me for six, he said.

You should be getting me out, I retorted. Another fat medium pacer, down the leg, I flicked it straight down square leg's throat. I swroe, made a big scene of it and trudged back wearily.

All out for 57.
Anwar broought the lunch out. I said, I am a veggie, dont worry I wont mix the chicken he said. Both the teams sat together having lunch. The team from Lund was only Indians. I was happy to lose. You were batting well, Balu sir said. What do you do here , I went on, I work as a physicist in Lund. We play the Danish league every week. I think you should join us because its more the merrier.
I never knew there was cricket in Scandinavia. The teams are pretty good, Denmark nearly beat Holland and qualified for the last world cup he said.

My Tryst with cricket goes on. I bowled with Shaun in tandem, a loopy legspinner, hit a stone and crashed into Aditya's stumps. I had two for 5 in two overs. There were the wides that pitched outside the mat and the struggle for turn, but they decided to play me respectfully.

We lost at a canter. No one seemed to bother, we all took snaps, exchanged numbers. Cricket was really uniting people. The Paki's are good buddies now, and they aint no different from us, though Anwar chucks,( I guess the bent elbow is a Pakistani treasure), but Anwar chucks real fast.I didnt know what the fighting and animosity was about, we should be busy playing cricket.

Current Affairs

2005-05-27T03:19:00.000-07:00

A close friend of mine recently commented that i was good at writing on current affairs. Hence this article on the more recent incidents that occured in KrishnaDevaRaya's kingdom.

Its close 8.30 in the morning, the king woke up around half past 4, and is now feeling quite drowsy. It has been a normal day, hot and bright. King KDRaya took his daily sword fighting excercises with three men carefully chosen to lose at his hands.

Not a trivial ask by any standards, considering that the king was considered to be as skilled with swords as Sanjay Kapoor is with acting, like a Lallo in full swing with his ministries, like a Mohinder with a laptop (You get the picture dont you ).The court jester breaks out into peals of laughter everytime the king touches the sword, twenty guards vainly control all the antics. It is widely believed that his hour long speech on the king's skills with the sword everyday was the precursor to daily talk shows like Jay Leno or Conan O Brien.

Its another matter that one of the queens aides decided that they pain she endured in listening to the queens dreary monologue should reach out to the masses and in a spark of divine inspiration conjured the Oprah Winfrey show and all its regional, channel specific avatars.

The king who was the first royal spectator, supposedly asked that the queens aide be hung to death, or tortured with hot oil or be caged with the queen for a week. The aide rumoured to be sharp chose the hot oil option and was witnessed by the "watch a hanging or beheading" a day groups as wlaking into the oil bath tub with a smile on her face and a whistle on her lips.

In placing three options in front of his queens faithful aide, KDRaya had unwittingly kick started the first known version of Who wants to be a Millionaire, which in this case was titled, "Who wants to be a corpse ". Though while ruminating some of the questions that are asked in such shows one wonders if the title was actually changed ?

Krishnadevaraya was also credited with laying wide roads which could be dug up in the future for a variety of reasons. His thoughts ran thus "If there are no roads what will they dig up, treasure ? ", he said and laughed aloud, while his court meekly wondered, how he thought of that.

The Muhmad of ghazni in his 17th attempt to invade India, was stopped in his tracks by a young KDRaya who asked the brave Muhmad how fast he was travelling ? Stumped at the ingenutiy of the question Muhmad in all humility asked KDRaya how that could be measured. KDRaya said, you know when you started and the time today, if you know how far you came I can tell your speed he confided.

The Muhmad, not appreciated in this galaxy or any other for his knack with numbers or any other vocation remotely connected to the intellect, bowed again and asked how he could find how far he had come ?

KDRaya said with aplomb, walk back with measured steps counting each pace till you reach the starting point , then you know the distance, he confirmed.

Mahmud, smiled gifted a pearl necklace (which was later found to be one that Mahmud stole from the gypsies) and tracked back, counting every pace to very are crazily far away Persia.

The fable is lost in sands of time. More such hitherto lost tales will be published on this blog with impudent regularity.

*Reference to the great king Krishnadevaraya is in jest and the Mahmud of Ghazni is not!

The secret world of lotsa comments

2005-05-26T23:32:00.000-07:00

Me to Swamiji : How can I get more comments on my blog ?
Swami : You cant my son , (smiles peacefully)
Me: But why swamiji, I have written all kinds of stuff, Bad mega serial storylines, mushy love stories, funny stuff,political stuff, stuff about stuff, I have read bad stuff other people write and have left pleasant comments like"you have an incredible blog, do visit mine", I have also tried to write regularly.
Swami : laughs, you are being ignorant and adamant my son (smiles peacefully).
Me : i dont understand Swami.
Swami : See son, its like you make a good product which people dont buy. instead of finding out what people want , you keep improving the product and are frustrated that it does not sell.
Me: Kool argument, so what should I do ?
Swami : Find out what people want ?
Me : Kool, i'll do that, but I am a little slow, how should that be done ?
Swami : Make a survey or something like that , ask your readers what they want.
Me : Awesome, buddy. I'll do that right away. A little curious, you seem to know so much about blogging, did you ever blog ?
Swami : hmmm, a long time ago yes I did blog .
Me : Oowesomee, so how did it go, did you get lotsa comments.
Swmai : The usual, one or two friends who read when they dont have anything to do, and use it as an alternate e mail id.
Me : Ya, I know how that feels.So what did you do, did you do the survey.
Swami: Yepp, I asked them what they wanted.
Me : And ?
Swami : It should be a girl who should write (no question about that), write shit, but if you are a female, you end up with close to a million comments. And if she replies to any of those comments,that's it, every blogger who visits her site imagines he has a love affair on, its a woman's world.
Me : huggin swamiji, and in tears, buddy, you rock, I feel the pain mate.
Swamiji : in tears
Me : So what did they say in the survey?
Swamiji : The survey was pretty clear , it said "You better stop writing mate"
Me: Yeah, and thats why you became a swamiji advising distressed bloggers.
Swamiji : I gave up but you should cary on fighting. You are the chosen one, two three four five

Me : Wake up panting.....beads of Sweat......Thank god it was a dream......

Wait a minute ---That guy...had an uncanny resemblance to.......

A lifetime ago

2005-05-26T01:43:00.000-07:00

We had'nt seen each other in a long time. She was standing near the grocery store, while her skirt fluttered in the breeze. It was her hair, those curly wisps like smoke from an angry chimney. She was fighting with the vendor, her cheeks turning pink and red with the exertion.

There were flowers on the skirt and you thought it was the best place for the flowers to be, the garden that she was.Those brown eyes for a fleeting moment turned in my direction,and I could feel the changing colours of emotion cloud her visage.

She turned happy in surprise and then angry at the thought of what i had done and then there was something else which I didnt fully understand.I smiled and her eyes bore through me, like a diamond edged drill cutting through volcanic rock, like a knife through butter, like her eyes through me.

She didnt say a word.Why was she being so uptight. i have a ego of my own. i dont need to stoop so low. I continued to smile and walked right past her to the vendor making it look like I knew the vendor for long.

"How much are the onions", i aksed. She kicked me on the shins and hugged me.

"Do you remember we have only been married yesterday" she said. " Yes, it struck me, i had'nt seen her only for an hour or so ".

It seemed so long, so worryingly long. I was worried because I never thought I could love anyone this much.

For a few hearty laughs more

2005-05-23T03:41:00.000-07:00

It all started on the 13 th of May. Some one got wind that the examination results were going to be announced a mite earlier than predicted.

"My uncle is big man in CBSE", he said. "You know what , when my grand pa was there I used to know my results as soon as the exams were over", Raghavan used to boast."We knew it even before", his Dad added for good measure, if you play 23 hours a day with that rickety piece of wood, you dont need a magician to soothsay your results", he growled.

Raghavan was walking past the old Vijayaram coffee shop, when Babu called out to him, "enna mamu endha vaatiyum goataa" (Did you fail again?), Babu had never finished school, but always told the girls who came to his shop that he was a private candidate and that his dad owned a big factory and that he worked in the coffee house because the owner was his friend.

Raghavan looked back (O&% Podaa) (Tamil Swear), I passed, he said. Babu , laughed, its okay machchi - Take it easy. Raghavan stopped turned around and said "Machchi I really passed". Babu looked at his face, he was serious, super machchi, many happy returns daa...O#"¤ oru dham vaangi kudu (Tam swear, get me a fag). Raghavan smiled, pop in for this alone. Get me Madhumita's address, and I'll treat you to beer at Velu wines.

"Kanja B"#¤%" (Stingy B"#¤%), you cant afford a fag how did you pass. "Okay where you going", Babu persisted.
"Match erukku machchi, nee varalaya (There's a match, you not playing ?)" You carry on, I am stuck with this shop.

Raghavan walked on, he had no idea what to do. He walked on. There was the internet cafe on his left, Srini would be there and maybe some of those high class women browsing and what not.
"Hey Srini machchan", he walked in. Srini had recently pierced his ear, and wore long chains around his neck.
"Enna da, did you check out the results, heard you passed", he laughed. "Who the hell let you pass" he roared. Raghavan felt like a million bucks. "You bet, for all the love letters you wrote to Mrs PKR, you should have been thrown out" he said.

Ramki looked up from the computer he was chatting on. On another window he was checking out the "Probablistic possibility of data loss through 128 bit encyption". These unruly nerds, he told himself. Must have just passed their 12th standard and are making a big fuss out of it.

He stared at Srini and Raghavan as if his eyes could melt them. Srini grew louder, "Machchi, are you still hangin out with M baby), shucks mate she's one solid piece of wood. (Semma kattai in coarse Tam :)) and they fell down laughing. Ramki could not see the joke. Suddenly Raghav kicked Srini on his leg and Srini became very quiet.
Madhu entered the cafe, she wore a Nike T Shirt and blue jeans, that were so tight that Raghavan and Srini struggled for breath.

Ramki took one hard look at Madhu and could understand why they called her a semmai kattai, he smiled softly to himself and muttered softly "The probablisitic definitions of what packet lossses could result from high encyption as occurs in 128 bit or equivalent security measures is....." hoping that she would catch the intellectual whisper and swoon into his arms.

None of that happened, for Madhu was an arts graduate from one of the citys ladies colleges and the closest she delved into probablity was when she watched Kaun banega crorepati on Star.

She logged onto yahoo and in a jiffy and was flattered by the large number of windows that clogged her screen. "Hi, I love you", said one window, "hey, here's a rose" said another. They pc stopped responding.

"Hello" she said standing up, "this computer has a problem". Raghavan walked on Srini's shins and said"Sollunga madam," (Tell me Mam) , what problem" ? This is not responding she said.

Raghavan walked in brushing her hands lightly as he slid into the constrainted cubicle. "Summa ctrl+alt+del", pannunga madam (Just do a ctrl+alt+del mam), he said restarting it.

Madhu, smiled "thanks". "Do you live around the corner "? he asked. "Yes, she blushed. "You dont know me?", he pried. No, she stared incredulously. "Summa sollathinga madam, you see me every day at Vijayaram coffee," said Raghavan. No, nejamma teriyadhu (No, I really dont know"), she insisted.
"Okay, then get to know me now, he extended his arm and she shook it, smiling".

Ramki watched all this with the corner of his eye first and then an open mouth. The probabilities of the missing packets were soon forgotten. He wanted to run out there, and tell her, I am also a commoner, be my buddy too. I just like to look learned.

"No", he swallowed. "What a dumb girl, " "Machchan women are so crazy" he typed into one of those yahoo windows. Only he was not so sure this time.The status message said "Delving into Probab....".

He calmly right clicked the icon and typed out in bold "LOSER". Its always better not to lie to your self he thought.

2005-05-16T23:10:00.000-07:00

UN Security Council

We want the permenant member seat on the UN - SC, and we want it with the VETO. No wonder the Americans are worried. The worlds largest democracy has woken up.

We are doing a great job of pursuing this goal. Diplomatic channels have been mobilized and are doing their bit, but as usual the best strategy is the one that wins!.

What is the UN but a mere servant of the worlds richest nation, which does what its told and meekly ratifies American moves. Its by no means a true representation of the world. It is high time that we spoke out for what we wanted and what we felt was right.

The challenges before us are aplenty. The US for one has clearly indicated that it would not support the G4 nations in their quest for a permenant seat. The other three Germany, Brazil and Japan have declared that they are okay without VETO.

NO, not acceptable.

Why is it important to us. It is because this would give us the power to mobilise the world's resources away from a single entity and channelise it to the benefit of the world. Okay that was diplomatic bullshit.

Why do we need it, so that we can save our country from peaceful aggressors like the US, who might state the anarchy in Bihar and Gujarat required their intervention and might send peace keeping forces to keep cost of off shoring lower.

Closer to reality, we need it to protect our interests abroad, with more and more of the Indian Diaspora conquering the world with their skills, we need to play a more active role to see to that their interests are safe gaurded.

There also the big problem of aid agencies.- the first thing wee need to do is kick them on their backsides and throw them out of the country.The western world has always adopted an angelic face to colonising the world. If it were the missionaries and businessmen of yesteryears, it is the aid agencies of today.

While WHO, UNICEF (and God knows how many others operate in the country) , may come out with moving ads which touch your heart and more, they are but a golden leash which are stretched to keep poor nations at bay. If an Angloa, became too interested in its diamonds, aid might mysteriously be delayed, or a shipment might be missed, thus putting the poor anarchy under pressure.

When we said no to aid during the Tsunami, it was the first sign of awakening in our great nation. As long as you beg you can never demand. As soon as you demand, you also demand respect and that is the biggest sign in the mordern Indian. He has travelled far and wide and he has realised that the man on the greener shore is as human as he is. The frailities of humanity affect all. It is planning , resources and lower populations that have helped the western world display a beautiful picture of well maintained infrastructure and clean dwellings.

The Indian has woken up to his prowess. We need the media to help us go foward

The Indian media, has been doing an excellent job of highlighting the good that we Indians are doing all over the world. But this is where we need to put in a little more thought.

While Bangalore and the Taj mahal are household names world wide, they represent an Under branded country. India is more than just IT and the Taj, there are a billion more things and its time we made a noise about them´.

..But the need of the hour is for the media to tell India why we need that Permanent Seat on the UN SC, and how we can get it. All it needs is awareness, and the awareness of a billion minds is a new conciousness and this is what we need to overpower the well oiled machine which is American diplomacy.

-Arise,Awake, stop not till the goal is reached,

Swami Vivekananda

2005-05-11T03:22:00.000-07:00

The romantic in me

He never ceases to amaze me. He just does not stop.He's always thinking up the unimaginable. From the damsel who would be the perfect lady in my life, who would pop out of every passing cloud to India dominating everything in sight.

When Sachin's gone, he tells me its going to be a humdinger that yuvi and Kaif will win, sometimes even when the West Indies play cricket he tells me there's a chance they might win (That's one time I kick his butt). Well that's how bad he is.

He once told me I would do well in Hindi. He thinks of the impossible, like a lightening strike which would make me brighter than Einstein and Newton put together.

Once he made me sit with a spider on my palms and a torch light beamed through a coiled spring and my moms ruby ring. He was creating the ruby laser, with Eveready battery cells which would not light up a dark street on a cloudy night. It took me ten years to understand that the Ruby laser could only be created with sodium ions excited to a million energy levels than the normal torch.

He makes me wake up thinking that every day could be a great day. It could be the day when I pleased my customer, my boss and all of humanity with my work. It could be the day when she pops round the corridor , slips on some coffe I spilt, lands in my arms, and stays there forever.

The romantic in me, makes life seem so easy. He tells me I can put any attack to the sword, and that there's a hundred for the taking everytime I bat.

India would get a permenant seat on the UN security council flush with Veto powers, we will beat the Aussies. We will have good roads, lots of tourists, no poor, excellent education a bloodless kashmir and become friends with Pakistan.

My friends would come back from the US voluntarily and not crib about it. The IT industry would nót be the only thing that the world knows us for other than the Taj Mahal.The world will buy Indian engineering, and I can find a Dosa diner in Sweden.

We will have professional politicians who will use development as the only topic for debate. We will have an army that has the best facilities and no wars to fight. We will stand up to irrational worldly policemen.

Its also the romantic in me who makes me write blogs during peak work hours and while away prime billing time. He's also responsible for the hope in my heart that my blog will be read understood and debated. That I will someday be good looking, popular,rich, have a good wife and a nice career.

He's the one that keeps me Alive!!

2005-05-10T04:31:00.000-07:00

Blogstard!

I thought this was a good time to thank a few of those people who made my life good by writing whatever they did. Jupee my bro of course has to be the first that i shou´ld start off with. His blog reviewing a recent Hindi movie (Hazaaron Kwahishein Aisi) is a masterpiece on how anything should be reviewed.

The blog should be noted for the sheer depth of knowledge accummalated painfully over the years by paitiently surfing the web, though the expenses were borne by a leading Indian IT firm.

Jupiee should also be applauded for the multiple strings that he weaves through his comments and also the startegically placed footprint that draws more readers to his blog, like moths to a light.

Another blog that is worthy of mention is Neel's ecophilo, a focussed essay on the state of business in india, beuatifully presented in the language and the eye of the way farer.

Prabhu's Ferrari is another blog that I seldom fail to appreciate. While the two blogs above are more food for thought, Prabhu's thoughts are straight from the heart, and almost always touches you with the simplicity of the thought, while you are left wondering the profoundity of its meaning.

Anu blogs business from the heart, so its an interesting combination of elevated thoughts and girlie emotions. its also a different view of Chennai to me from the eyes of a lady.

Ramya who i guess is a journo with the hindu, sometimes combines professional haste with blogging efficacy. Guess when you write for a living, its an occupational hazard.

Sidin is a blogger who has already a reputation in the world of blogging as can be seen from the volume of comments he recieves. His blogs are a comic dig at everythign that lends itself to a dig. Its always filled with the mellu view of the world, which has always fascinated me considering that they are always only a few feet away from the bottle.

While meandering through various blogs its surprising how close they are to the person you know. Sometimes while blog hopping I also came across Anita and her foto blog. The blog was a veritable labrynth of some of the most exotic sights ever captured on lens.

Finally putting my thoughts on paper has made me realise how little I read, and how little I am read. Maybe its time to fly away from the shadows of comfort into the uncomfortable nothingness and experiment with the good, the bad and the ugly....

So happy reading, happy bloggin....

Vi Ses

C u Si Mon

Chao!!

2005-04-29T06:20:00.000-07:00

Rajasekar Kulachandra

RK as everyone called him, was the greatest exponent of the secret art of Kaliyam. The life of RK is the stuff legends are made of. Once in Krishnadevaraya's court, he demonstarted that light travels faster than sound. Nobody understood the experiment, but that is another story and is not pertinent to this discussion.

It is also said that when Babar was romancing his beloved,he forgot her name and Babar mispronounced her name. It was RK who from the shadows of the banyan tree nuduged Babar, who quickly corrected his slip and succeeded in wooing his wife to be. It is again a matter of judgement that RK's nudge resulted in Babar marrying his lovers servant, rather than the more appealing lover. Less documented is the prolonged search by the royal guards, for a lame travller with a strong lisp, who had to be beheaded or Babar would lose his head over the thing.

Thus RK made a mark whereever he went. Grandmothers when putting their young ones to sleep have been known to narrate stories of how RK asked a T Rex to do a somersault, in attempting which all of them Dinosauraus perished. This story however, is laughed away by historians as something that does not have enough credibility and as being a story woven out of many other strands.

A snippet from the museum of Giza in Egypt reveals the many sided personality of RK. It is a less known fact that when RK slapped Lady Mountbatten on her backside, she took offense and ordered her husband and all self respecting Englishmen to follow her back to London. Thus the hurried withdrawal at midnight.

The stories of Rajasekar Kulachandra are too numerous to be listed in an article of finite length. You can get more info on www.rk.com or on the 145 Ath page of the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy. if you cant find pages with 145 A, you have bought the abridged edition. The original can be bought at the book cave in Mylapore or through Amazon.com.

For Sale..Part 6 has been interrupted to celebrate RK's birthday, which happens on the 3 rd full moon after every Monday of April. It is also called KKD jayanti or Arora Ashtami.

2005-04-26T23:13:00.000-07:00

For Sale (Part 5)
Singaravelu and his third Wife

My routine was always the same. Wake up late in the morning. Problem with that in the village was that, 6.00 am was bloody late. Patti was already up and away by 4.30 when Panchaali brought the milk home.

Wake up, you lazy guy, said the servant (I forgot her name) as she swept the hall. I always slept below the oonjal (swing) or probably rolled under it.
Wake up, and walk to the garden, and brush, with the sparkling clean water that spurts out of the tap. The incredible feeling of touching cold water on a hot and humid day. Splash around on the basin where some water always collected. Walk in with the taste of fresh colgate in the mouth and the joy of sipping the best coffee that you could taste.

The first few minutes were as joyous as a punch dialogue from Rajni and the goosepimples as the audience went into raptures.

Once this was done, we walked with Kasi, towards the fields. A bright sun bore down upon us, and the sun was the last thing you felt. It was bright and beautiful, as we walked on the fertile fields, along vast fields of sugarcane. Kasi kept harvesting brinjals on the outers of the sugracane fields, i raised an eye brow. Why are you taking the brinjals from our fields I asked ? Kasi, looked down and said, its for your grandma he said. I didnt like him, but there was nothing I could do. We kept walking, till we came to the pumpset.

A huge motor pumped water into a large well, whose overflow watered the fields. I ran towards it and was about to jump in. Kasi said wait. I looked around at Kasi. He looked around for a few minutes, picked up a stick and calmly walked toward the pump set.

It was wriggling on the wall, to me it looked like a shiny earthworm. He picked it up with the stick as it coiled itself around it and flung it away into the fields. It was a banded krait (Kattuveerian, one of the most poisonous snakes in the country). There was no fuss at all. These were a part of his daily routine.

I said something like cool, and jumped into the well anyways. I stood with my back towards the long pipe, mimicking the strength of an Arnold Schwarznegger, the water gushed with such force , that I couldnt resist it for more than a few seconds, and i flew headlong into the well. I jumped, laughing and jumping in joy.
I lost all track of time, i must have been in for an hour or more, suddenly i was so hungry I could eat my own feet.

Kasi reappeared from somewhere and we started out trip back home. He flung a stone on the mango trees in the grove near by, and a nice juicy mango I chewed on. We kept walking till we came to Paneerselvam's farm. He and my dad were classmates, so he always said "hi". As I walked in , he asked me about all at home, what I was doing etc. Then one of the guys shimmied up a coconut tree and brought down a nice big coconut. He picked a plant nearby, and shaved its stem, to convert it into a makeshift straw.

The coconut had so much water that I struggled to finish it, "throw it away if its too much" he said, and I did so. I bade him a nice good bye and we walked along. till we got back home. A lovely lunch wafted its way to my nose and I ran into the kitchen.Lunch was accomplished wihtout much ado. Things I had taken for granted then and things I yearn for now.

The midday sun was high and so was the mercury, but it never stopped me then. I ran to Sudha's house, hoping to understand more about lorries and their drivers. Sudha's father was Singaravelan, the panchayat president. Village lore had it that he had three wives. It thrilled me then to know a man could be three times as bad.As I entered Sudha's house , on the cane chair outside sat Singar and his third wife ...................

TBC

2005-04-21T04:01:00.000-07:00

For Sale (Part 4)
Sharma's big fight

....There that is the house, patti pointed. Go quietly, she warned. I tiptoed across the street, entering the house diagonally opposite. It looked nice, it was much smaller than the our ancestral home. I turned the huge key and stepped in. There were a few notices stuck on the door.

My feet were completing their descent towards the floor, when I felt a loud roar, Who is that ? How dare you step in? it said. I turned back. It was Sharma.

Many years ago grandpa had bought the house from Sharma's ailing father. The old man had signed all the necessary documents. Problem was that the old man also had a will where he had bequethed the house to his son Sharma.

While Sharma's evil ways angered the old man, he decided to rewrite the will. I think the old man was a procrastinator like me, so he never made the second will.
A few months after the house was sold, the old man reached his heavanly abode. When we tried to take possession of the house, in stepped Sharma and his goons with the old will, and claimed that the house was his own.

Now his argument was that the old man cannot sell what was not his. Since he had already bequethed it to his son, he could not have sold it. We really didnt care about the will, we had bought the house and we wanted it.

Like all Indian squabbles, the quarell went to the civil courts, and spent a lifetime there. Sharma was 92 years now, a shriveled old man still holding onto his last breath and his old house.

In his lifetime he did not live in the house, nor did he let us.Many years later the case was brought up and closed. It was in our favour. the judge deemed that, a will comes into existance only after the death of a person. So the time when the will was made does not matter, and since the old man had himself signed the other papers, it was deemed sold, and the right to bequeth the property was lost.

Case closed, but not Sharma, he still lingered on, waging a lone battle. Still preventing us from entering the house. I did not know the details, (It took me half a course in business law, and a bad grade to understand law ;))then.

I still heard enough to know that Sharma and his goons had threatened patti once. I disliked him, and a well of hatred spouted with great intensity within me. I was all of 14 years, and a big Rajni fan at that time.
"Who are you" I asked in chaste english. "Who are you" replied the frail old man.
"My grandma owns this house". "Who said so ?" he persisted. "The Villupurum district magistrate", i replied surprised at my own knowledge of Indian civil law.

"Do you know, i have appealed," he said. "I will go till the supreme court" he said switching to tamil. "You will be dead before that" I said impolitely. He seemed a little shaken, "We will see".
"Now I will go in, you come back, if your appeal is accepted, or else F#¤" off", i said hoping to offend the old man. He did not understand. That was when I decided to improve my vocabulary in tamil, in order to be more effectively offensive. Today i have come a long way though.

I entered, pushing the door wide open. He cursed me, he said I would fail and would struggle to find a job and food and lotsa other things.

When he spoke about bad results, I was a little offended, but to this day I keep racking my brains to remember if he said something about not finding pretty women....and stuff like that....

(TBC)....

2005-04-20T06:52:00.000-07:00

For Sale (Part 3)

..Bala peddled hard...it was a strong cross wind....i sat on the carrier looking around, the sun was hot and bright...but the cycle felt fast..It seemed as if we were leaving every one behind...i had no worries...

Suddenly, I was worried that I had no worries, and then I reminded myself that school was about to reopen the next month and I had not done my hindi exam well. I was happy , there was something to worry about, i quickly stamped the thought of the unfinished essay out of my mind ,also those four chapters that remained unread and left a lot unsaid in my answer sheets. I shooed Kabir away, life was normal there was some small trifle.

We had left the village well behind and the panchayat board office too, i suddenly jumped out of my thoughts and broke the unhealthy silence, "So which class are you in now" I asked Bala. No class and all, i am now in polytechnic he said, and i kept quiet. "So where is Sudha" ?, i asked innocently. "I dont know, must be out with some lorry driver" he smiled. I didnt understand. They caught her with some lorry.....he went on. i didnt understand, but it felt bad and good. I struggled to think of a reason to meet her. Bala cycled on. Suddenly, he stopped and pointed to an open field. It was a lovely cricket pitch cut out in the middle of a vast field. They even had three lovely wooden stumps made of harshly shaven wood, and to top it all they had bails on the stumps. It was my first feeling of accomplishment, three years ago, no one played cricket in Maragadapuram.

Three years ago.....
I had brought the best gift my grandpa gave me, a cricket bat and a hard cork ball and tried in vain to get my sister to toss a few balls at me. The process of asking her was an onerous one. It started with a softening of the tone, and the making of a pleasant souding request. Tough tasks in themselves, but it didnt stop there. Viewing the activity as the largest business opportunity available, she always drew up a list of tasks more unnerving than the 12 tasks that were asked of Hercules. The easiest of which was to give up my share of toblerone, which occupied a secret pouch in the refrigerator. Giving all my tintin's and the two hardy boys that I flicked from the town library.

Material asks were trivial, but what killed the ego was the realisation that at the end of performing all that was asked, she would smile triumphantly, and toss an uninterested over and declare that the heat was too sapping and the game too uninteresting. To continue she would demand the moon and more.

I would lose the cool facade i had forced on myself, and I would scream like a labourer cheated out of his daily wages. I would threaten her, with unimaginable pain and lots more, to which she would calmly reply, one finger and I would hear from the strict hands of my dad.

It was then that I realised how mother India felt under British oppression. During one such negotiation, my sis struck timber, which was actually a wooden pillar marked off with three vertical lines and a horizontal bail. I often employed this tactic, where in losing your wicket once gets the bowler interested, only that in thsi case it was'nt intentional, it was a genuinely good ball and I was beaten. Smart as she was, she realised this and offered to bowl more. In the midst of the over, a ragged boy and his group of friends, oversaw the event and jeered at me for playing with a girl.

"Come over and bowl", i foolishly teased them. One guy walked out of the group, he looked very strong, and I bit my tonugue, made a mental note to do something bad to my tongue later. As soon as the kid stepped out, my sister warmly tossed the ball to the strong lad, hoping that he would help reaarange my uninviting visage.

Come on Bala, somebody in the gang said. I felt the whole world had ganged up against me. Bala walked to the other end, and suddenly the street seened very small.

Suddenly I realised, small as the street was Bala was going to run in and bowl. No way you can do that on a street that is only 16 yards wide. He didnt know the rules. It was a hard cork ball, someone could get hurt, and I was that someone. It was a good place to bat previously for the only distance my uninterested sisters bowling could travel was 16 yards or lesser., but for serious duels, it was most certainly the wrong battlefield.

While i debated explaining the rules to Bala, he was already on his way. He started at 16 and ran in, surely he must be joking, i told myself. He kept running till 16 became 10 and as an after thought let go a delivery of such force, that I shiver even while documenting it. As the ball was on its way, there was no time to think, i swung the bat in reflex, more to protect, my loins and other areas which were to serve me faithfully for many years to come. Thwack, middle of the bat for a big strike. The ball sailed away over Dandu mama's house, into his garden. In fact when Dandu mama's ailing mother who was resting in the garden passed away two days later, i never enquired why or how?.

All that aside, the gang stood there watching the black cork disappear, I watched in greater astonishment than the onlookers. Then the instincts took over, as i regained my composure, and surveyed my audience. I leaned on my bat with the grace of a Sachin and the style of a Viv.

Bala walked upto me and held his hand out, good shot he said, I shook his hands and never searched for the cork ball again.
Can we also play one guy asked from the crowd, "sure" I said...smiling at my sister, she had a frown. Lets play on the river bed someone suggested, i could have played on hot coals, sure i said again....cricket was born in Maragadapuram..... .

(TBC)..........

2005-04-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

For Sale (Part 2)

"ada Rameee Aaandalum Ravanaaa aaandalum enakku oru kavala elle, vangungada aaa velli kuja....." Thalaivar sang(Whether Rama rules or ravan rules I dont care....´for international bloggers`)....Subramani dozed off.....and Sundaram rattled along.

When I say the sun was hot, and you are an Indian, you know what I am talking about. "Kasi...how was the harvest this year" some one asked..."Kasi cursed for a few minutes, no one in particular ,No water for the fields" he said "the monsoons have failed this year too, they have planned a puja for the Ayyanar (Indian deity who guards the borders of the village) today..." he said

The bus left the tarred roads leading away from Villupuram some 5 kms later and turned into the kuchcha roads leading to kandamanadi, where Vijaykanth looked young on the posters, and Radha had just entered Tamil cinemas". Lotsa people at the bus stands, the Tea stalls, peered at the bus and shouted a hello to friends on the bus most of them looked on, it was their hourly update, life was as usual.

From the Ramu tea kadaai, one guy ran to the bus driver and handed him his lunch for the day rolled in Dina thandi, "Varatta , appurum pakkalam" he said and we rolled furthur.

The houses gave way to green fields and a cool breeze that made the searing heat seem better, no one complained, an old granny chewed away on the tobacco, spitting intermittently, huge towering farms of sugarcane we passed.

A tractor loaed with twice the allowed load of sugarcane stood on the way in front of us. The sum of the widths of the bus and the tractor was less than the width of the road, it was time for some true Indian ingenuity. The tractor sunk into the sugracane field at an uncomfortable angle sort of like a man making way for the other, the bus slowly pulled past , no one batted an eyelid, it was business as usual.

A few minutes later, more houses a roaring pump set spewing water, and suddenly from around the corner just past the village well, we reached Maragadapuram. Every one wanted to get down at the same time. I chivalrously waited for all to get down, but Sundaram did not. So I got out one stop later.

As i walked in to my grandmothers house, a few kids came out to watch me and Shanmugam came out, " Aaah your Seshu's son right" he said. "Yes , How are you I asked".

As I walked into my grandmothers house , I always felt proud, it was among the biggest in the village, connecting two streets, with the Maragadambigai (Another form of the Indian Goddess Kali/Parvati) temple at one end and the Panchayat board at the other.

"Patti" I walked in, the house was never locked, "Come in come in, I was worried the bus was late, the Kattelapora (Tamil Swear) driver always does this.. Paanchali keep his bags in that room.

I went straight to the oonjal (Tamil for swing), that was something I always loved. It was'nt like some make shift swing that you saw in the city. It was one monster and you could swing it from the roof on this side to the roof back. You stopped when it started moving at an angle thus threatening the hundreds of pictures of all imaginable gods on the wall.

Soon after a bath in the garden, which was always at a cool 25 degrees no matter what it was outside, because of the cocunut trees , Jasmine creepers and the big badam tree at the end.

The only problem was my grandpa, who forgot to build a bathroom, so there was a make shift ditch at the end of the bathroom, where the male female inequality was abolished and nature met nature.

Well speaking of something more pleasant, the bath was always special in the village, and that was probably the only time I would bathe at home. Soon after I was ravenous, there was onion sambar, potato roast, rasam and curd so thick that you needed a sledgehammer to break it up.
I ate like ...too many similies.....(Sample..a Punjabi truck driver without food for a year, like a chennai boys school student admitted in DPS...)

I was young then so the siesta never crossed my mind, and the heat never stopped me, so while patti took her nap, I wandered out of the house.

Lalli was coming of Dandu uncles house, hey Lalli, I ran barefoot...on superheated sand. Hey Vijay, she turned around smiling. I stopped, there was something wrong, she was in a pavadai (long Indian Skirt) and she looked beautiful. It was 4 years and we both had grown, she - a little more than me.

"Hi" i said distantly the enthusisam replaced by a funny embarassment. "When did you come", she asked. "12.30" I said. "Oh you took the 11.30" she asked. No I took the 10.30 which came at 11.30. She smiled.
Ususally we would have walked to Paalaar (the River) which was at the end of the street. The river never had water except during monsoons, and was a huge sand bed that stretched 4 kms from bank to bank. It used to be full , my dad used to tell me.

Today, we would not walk , because I felt funny. "okie, i am going" I said. "Okie" she said and walked away. No pestering, no dragging me by the hand, just an uninterested ok. I walked back, Bala was taking his cycle out.

Hey Bala, i ran towards him. "Enga pora ?" ( Where are you going?) I asked..........he winked and pointed to the carrier at the back of the bicycle. It was going to be a long ride, i realised..............

TBC....

2005-04-15T07:59:00.000-07:00

For Sale

For Sale: Parachute. Only used once, never opened, small stain.
My Soul is pretty similar too. I put it up for sale, sadly I advertised the sale on my Blog. As usual people had lots to say. As they say " For every action there is an equal and opposite criticism."

Sometimes your blog reflects your state of mind, the innocent reader is waylaid. They think "oh this blog has a smattering of flesh, maybe the blogger is a pervert". Often this is a result of reducing attention spans and blog hoppers who are also on a secret mission to unearth life partners. My advice to them is "Take each blog as a shadow of the bloggers emotion"

My Dad met me while he walked up the stairs. I was surprised , because the only reason I took the stairs because i guessed my dad would use the lift. "Hello pa," I said . "I got my results today pa", I volunteered. "I didnt do too well, so instead of sitting at home and brooding, I decided to go out and play for sometime, cya", I said as I squeezed past and ran away, leaving behind my dumbstruck dad. I was only in class 6 then, and already full of promise.

Though he remained dumbstruck on the staircase, he had a lot to say after I got back home that evening. That will be for a later blog, or when we sit down after dinner, without much else to talk about.

The stories of my prolific childhood are not all urban. Like a Bharathiraja, while the scene shifts to green fields and the village maragadapuram, some 10 miles west of that historic town of Villupurum.
Did you know that the Pope never visited Villipurum, in fact even GW Bush both senior and Junior have not visited this picteresque town.

Well it is picturesque, if you dont go to the rama naicker bus stand. Two bananas and a "Paneer Soda later" , Subramani waved me over. "The 10.30 is late" he said. Its coming only at 11.30 he clarified. Then its a 11.30 i said.
No, no 11.30 is also late he continued, and somewhere in between i lost the thread.

Well the 10.30 Sundaram (The name of the bus owner) screeched to a halt. Okie this is where you expect people to exit and others to board. It gets a little complex here, so please polish your lenses, the boarding was already completed at various stages as the Bus entered the Bus stand. The youth had got in through the windows, near the circle, the more elderly got in when the bus was doing a healthy 30 kmph. It was only the women and kids who had to enter the bus after it stopped.

So while everyone in the bus tried to get out, all the women and kids tried to get in and not to forget the others who had already boarded at various stages of the bus' entrance into the bus stand.

I looked at Subramani, who looked down at me from a window in the bus, as if to say what in Gods name are you doing outside. Get in he said. I didnt want to ask him how so i walked to the entrance of the bus, where an old lady cursed the ancestery of a young man who trod on her feet while jumping out to buy some beedis. I said a silent prayer and rushed into the mass of humans at the door. The trick is if you stay still you will end up on one side of the bus, and soon I was on the first step. Its a different matter that I had three broken ribs, a torn shirt and no oxygen in my lungs.

Sitting down was not even an option for those seats were taken many years ago, and had towels that bore the names of the place holders.

As I stood between the armpits of my fellow country men, i drifted into an odourless dream. It was a short journey to Maragadapuram, sixty minutes of a spine chilling, bone jolting journey on the worlds best roller toaster.

Sundaram pulled out of Rama Naickar.....with Rajni's latest number screeching through vibrating diaphgrams...

To be continued..

2005-04-08T05:39:00.000-07:00

For a Change (contd...)

Rama typed away furiously, even a meteor could not have shaken, leave alone stirred him. He knew Subbu would peep into his monitor on the way out.

He would have waited till Subu left the hall, and would have followed him till he knew exactly where he had gone. He had approximate return times mappped on the excel sheet on his desktop. He would schedule his activities based on that.

Not today, Subu hadnt left the hall but had disappeared from sight, but Rama had to see the video. He was not thorough today, he did not figure out Subu's destination.He clicked on the e-mail imaptiently.

"Gajala gopal's pongal gift" read the subject line. Rama smiled again, Gajala was always good. He was always like a six sigma certifiied organisation.

He double clicked the attachement, the hour glass showed up, it was a big attachment, must be a long video.
As the media player started loading, the corner of his eye caught some movement. Subu was walking back, he hadnt gone out as he usually did.It was the men's room that Subu had visited which was obscured by the pillars.

Rama unconciously did the alt+ tab with a curse on his lips. He looked down into his monitor, as the screen froze displaying the copyrighted hang of the worlds largest selling Operating system.

As the video loaded Subu walked into Rama's cubicle . "Rama..." he started and stopped as he watched the lissome Trish walk into the tub, her unclothed body glistening in the harsh light of the camera.

Rama bit his toungue, as the next second seemed to last an eternity, he could neither watch the screen nor Subbu. The beads of perspiration wove their ways indiscriminately over his face. He knew what was coming, the committees, the e mails and the pink slip.

It was the lecturing he hated. Subu turned red. He knew Rama was upto something, but he hadnt expected this.

"Forward it to me" , he blurted out to Rama and stumbled back to his chair. Rama couldnt believe his ears.
Subu felt good for once in the day. He had no idea why he said those exact words.

The story spread like wildfire, and the team seemed to perform better than before. Subu's unwitting act had bonded them, the IT industry had arrived.

Mohan closed the case study booklet with a thump, so class are you ready with your arguments. It was going to be another boring case discussion.....

2005-04-07T07:19:00.000-07:00

For a change

I have been writing such boring stuff of late, that I really felt sorry for all those who stumble upon my blog.
Its time i provided comic relief to people who read blogs while the eagerly wait for the day in the office to end, so that they can start working, or to those tired fingers that have already mailed everyone in their address books , and have to wait for a reply so that they dont give away how bored they are with work.

Or to those who merely blog to read newer things. Probably those souls who cant stop pressing F5 to see if something has been published in between the time they last pressed the refresh button a few seconds ago. Of course to those who read the blog with their fingers on Alt+Tab and an eye on their managers, who switch pages faster than the eye can see.

Well the story is about Rama, who did an Alt+Tab faster than the eye can see, only to find his computer hanging in between the two pages. Blame it all on those celeron processors. Well Rama was'nt that kinda guy but that day he couldnt help not looking at the latest Trisha you-know-what....

He had told himself, wait its in the mailbox, hold on till the bloody PM goes for his usual smoke, coffee, flirt etc and other busy looking routines that safely shielded him from his team and made him look busy, while he spent all his time chatting up the new receptionist.

That was the day when Subbaiyan his PM was surprisingly chided by his boss, who was chided by his boss, who was chided by his boss, who didnt have anything to do so he chided his junior.

Subbu looked around for somebody to scream at, they seemed to sense it and were all engrossed..or seemed to be. They werent even talking to each other, not even Nirupa's loud questions were asked , they seemed to know.

Subbu sulked looked at his monitor, trying to catch some one on the reflection in the monitor.

Rama peered over his monitor with a blank gaze, which made him look like he was thinking, he always did that when he wanted to feel important, thoughtful or intelligent. Subbu was still there. No coffee's, meetings nothing.
Forget it, he told himself, start working and it will all go away, he kept telling himself.
He hated Java, he always had, if it werent for that sick factory that he worked in where including overtime he earned 500 rs a month, he would have never have stepped into this air conditioned prison. They said they were paying 3000 rs plus benefits. It was just a matter of talking to his friends from Andhra who had all the resumes you could want. He even remembered Srinivasalu showing him Bill Gates' resume, "eeet iss for wheen I apply to Microsoft ree" he told him.

The last attachment was good. It was slow and detailed. Wow, these guys were good. He stared at the screen but it kept coming back. He was losing patience.

Subbu had given up. Dumb team, in manufacturing you could scream at the workers, he even cursed their parents. Here these spoilt kids make a big fuss even if you call them an idiot.
Seema had created a scene, and then she quit to join that massive company where they paid her 5 times his salary, he had to talk to get that new resume going.

He needed to get to the mens room, Subu walked away, but as he moved out of his cubicle, he smiled.

Rama couldnt help smiling, he glanced at Subu and licked his lips in anticipation......

2005-04-04T07:54:00.000-07:00

Frankfurt Ahoy...

I waddled out of Hahn (a town over 100kms out of Frankfurt). It was drizzling, and murky, but not my spirits, they were as high as they could be, it was the first day of my vacation. I walked out of terminal 2 and wandered towards the Tourist info desk.

The lady behind the desk in hevaily accented english, told me where I could get BOHR, the bus to frankfurt's (Hauptbahnhof). The I asked her the ineveitable desi question "mam how much does it cost ?", 12 € she smiled. I wanted to faint or cry. I smiled back like prince Charles and walked towards the stop. I read the fine print, and spotted that a 24 hr ticket was only 16€, so per trip 8€. I could breathe a little easy after that.

Hi, does the bus go to Frankfurt? he asked me. Yes, I said like I lived here all my life. Jorg, he introduced himself. We got talking, watched movies on his laptop on the bus till ff, ate seedai and murukku, that balaj had packed for me, found out that he was a chemical engineer too.

Soon we were at Hbhof, and Jorg held the doors of a tram to hold on till I purchased tickets of the vending machine in the stop and boarded it, bidding a hurried farewell. I sat in front, feeling all the eyes in the tram on me. It thundered into unknown territory. Suddenly it was Lokalbahnof and I got off, and followed the map till I had my wind knocked off my chest. It was'nt a blow of force but the sight of the lovely ruver Main on who's banks the city of ffurt stands. In the glitterring moonlight, it shone like a bride in a silver sari, and a bright silver bindi to match. The youth hostel was on the banks, and I thanked the heavans for the location and walked in, half worried that they might throw me out for walking in that late.

Inside the doors there was a veritable party on in full blast, the kid behind the desk, verified my youth hostel id and my reservation and handed my access card over. It was the indonesian room, and I slept hungry. Then when i could bear it no more i pulled myself up and stuffed some korvbread and jam down my throat. My tummy still grumbled for more, but I was just too exhausted.

Suddenly, my alarm on the mobile went off. It was a beautiful day, but I couldnt see much out of the window. I got out of the bunk bed into some lovely bathrooms. Soon I was done with the ablutions of the day and stood below a shower so German in design , that a mere cylindrical pipe threw an umbrella of rain drops around you, and you marveled at the ingenuity while being cleansed of dirt.,

Breakfast was a dream, cornflakes, coffee, bread jam , ham etc, orange marmlade and apple juicel unlimited. I gorged myself like there was no tomorrow, which was true and soon I wanted to eat no more. (1 night bed + breakfast @Haus der Jugend - 16 € - excellent facilities).

I picked up the map from the Youth hostel and walked out. A veil of fog draped the city like some screen which was waiting for the bell to unveil the rich tapestry behind. I walked across the road to the Main and clicked my first few pictures. (refer to snaps http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/seshvenk/my_photos
)
I walked along, as the beauty of the city seeped in and the rays of a morning sun swept across the city. i walked all morning, and struggled for my afternoon meal as usual with burger king running out of Veggie burgers.
SO it was more bread and some coke for lunch, and then more walking. It was under the big € near Dresdner bank that I met Mohammed. he told me he was a Jordanian woeking in Canada, we walked along for a long time and spoke of life in Canada, the Indian economy, why I didnt want to migrate etc, and soon we were drained and we sat at the nearest starbucks.

So how's the Jordanian economy I bored him. he looked at me with some remorse, as an afterthought he said, i am not from Jordan, i am from Iraq. Both of us didnt say much after that. He wanted to goto a turkish resturant close by and i thought it was best to let him do so.

Then I wlaked more as I met a pkaistani who showed me the way to the railway station(Hauptbahnhof). As i reached hbof, I saw GK Traders written in unmistakable TAMIL. I had to walk in to the store. As i spoke to magesh at the store it was owned by Srilankan tamils form jaffana who fled their country because of the struggle. He was from loyola in chennai and was unhappy he couldnt find a veg noodles for me. I will go back some day and meet him.

It was time for my flight to Bergamo (Milan) and I walked back to Hbof, with the dipping sun , providing cinematic relief.......as Bohr (a Mercedes Bus) sped on the autobahn, i tread softly into a dreamworld of my own...........I woke up and I was back in Hahn, this time the flight was more crowded, and no one smiled back at me, I was worried.....the all spoke only Italian, in hindsight that sounds foolish for I was flying to .....ITALY!

2005-03-24T07:13:00.000-08:00

Hey ya all

How have you all been doing. Am off to Frankfurt and Milan for easter, will be back on wednesday, so hope to post some photo blogs of my journeys.
Its kind of frightening and exciting. I am taking tomorrows Ryan air to Fft, the screw up is the airstrip is in Hahn which is a pretty town a little far away from frankfurt. So will have to take public transport to the main city. I guess this wont be a problem, because of the timing, but my second leg is kinda worse. i reach Bergame small town like Hahn outside Milan, but this is at the unearthly hour of the 23.00 hrs.

Now i hope people there speak some decent English for I dont speak a word of Italian. The I need to find Ostello Pierro Rotta. If you have some clues I can use give me a buzz. Also Europeans always have this polite distance and so asking for a lift from a fellow passenger is a no no. You will face the harsh embarrassment of a no, and then contemplate pulling out your own feeding tubes.

So to ask or not to ask is the question I keep asking. See ou all on Wednesday.

2005-03-17T00:39:00.000-08:00

Long time no see....

I learnt these from Gunnar , its something all of us Indians suffer from. He calls it RCD. Random capitalization disease, and its so bloody true. if you care to read the sentence above I guess there are a few uncalled for capitals.

Its spring here, oh for the small town folks that means..its raining and not snowing any more. Pär-Åke (proununced as Par OK) took me to a soccer match between the GAIS and Frolunda. It was the first live football match I saw in my life. The quality of football was excellent and it was a fantastic experience. It was close to 3 degrees and raining, there was heavy fog with visibility of around 300m, how they saw the ariel balls I have no clue, but these guys play great football.

My snaps didnt come out well because of the fog, but i will post them anyweays. Pär-Åke's team was the GAIS and to be true to my host i supported them too. Nice atmosphere. GAIS won 3-1.

Also in ULLEVI , the world sprint skiing championships were held. You can watch it on Canal + were commentary is in fluent Svenska, forcing you to switch off in like 40 seconds, but looks like Gothenberg is a happening place now. It was pretty crowded at the ULLEVI yesterday, the stadium has a capcity of a massive 66ooo, and it was filled with over 300 people, nearly all the interested people , who could brave the weather and were interested in sprint skiing etc etc..... but if you want to be seen on TV I think its the best way to do it. Get into ULLEVI and you can tell folks back home..see there on the right corner..I am in the D stand..and they wont ask you where, because when you say D stand, you are the only person there!!! (BTW i said D because of a fond recollection of MA Chinnaswamy stadium).

Jokes apart, this is a great civilization and lovely set of people. I think their respect for other individuals and independence is unmatched on the planet. Lots to learn from them.

More later...am going to Stengunsbaden, dunno how to pronounce that, but its a resort 50 kmm north of Gote, and its for a workshop!!bye and happy easter folks!.

2005-03-10T02:39:00.000-08:00

Food....

I have often been reminded by my mom and numerous elderly souls about the sanctity of food. I regarded them with contempt and derided them.

In a typical repartee to my grandpa who would tenderly ask " Are you going to finish all that is on your plate".
"Crazy or what, if i ate so much I would grow taller in a day, forget just growing fat". "What do we do with what's on your plate, will you ate it later". " Are you crazy" i would snarl, this is not fit for human consumption".

Today as I sit 6000 miles away and eat what one jerk calls "Sabji",I hold back, promising not to cry over spilt milk. The concoction that is cooked however is interesting in prepartion though far from attractive for consumption.

Add tomatoes,potatoes and onions - compulsory ingridients (they are the cheapest Veg in Sweden, except Tomatoes, bloody expensive of course).
Cut them into pieces of any size.....
Add them to a frying pan...
Oh shucks forgot to add the oil,remove the vegetables, shucks burnt my finger, the pan is hot...

Ok now start again...put the pan, its getting black at the bottom, lift it high and add the vegetables....shit ¤#¤ oil first...abuse the world...

Added oil...god...its crackling..and ..then wait...add some small grams..in container on your right..dunno what its called....
Add the vegetables later, scream at some one to cut carrots or cabbages.

now these three are boiling, but the bloody potates have not been boiled, so add some water so that the potatoes cook, add some masala..add any masala...logic is chicken masala does not have any chicken in it..(I read the ingridients..seems to be clean...)

Oh did you add the salt....

Now some body cut the cabbages...doesnt matter it tastes the same....
leave it on the stove and watch , the Daily show with Jon Stewart..............

Nice show...its cooked......
Some one made rice...i can do that pretty well myself.......Taste a little...yuck.....cant make out much..its too hot....
Add to rice........eat....If your lucky...you'll survive.In Bangalore, this is where I would have left for the nearest Udipi hotel.....
So if your at home heating some awesome, home cooked tasty stuff....remember this poor soul!!!

2005-03-04T05:31:00.000-08:00

Its Funny (The Final Raga)

As I saw my Rajeev run in to bowl, I was feeling a little anxious. He actually was a good leg spinner. He walked in slowly, akin Warne and tossed it up....it was well flighted and landed on the good length spot, where the batsman always wants to go back, but is in doubt. It turned a mile and spat like a cobra at the unsuspecting batsmen.

Daddy, did you see that, another five fer , Rajeev came running to me. You missed three catches, and pulled from outside the off, I said, but your length was impeccable. You also drove straight and never fished. I summed up Rajeev's day.

I parked the car in the garage and walked in with Rajeevs Kit, he always left it behind. Wash your hands you filthy people , Rachna popped in from the kitchen.

As I washed my face, I looked into the mirror. I looked at a 40 Year old, who was happy. I was thinking about that day when ....I was such a jerk.

" Hey Rach , I said, "whats your full name, sorry I didnt know". " Rachna Rajagopal...why ?" she said.
Okay Kool, I said kneeling down on one knee, I slowly picked her hand, looked into her eyes and said " Rachna Rajagopal.., will you marry me ?".

I sat down at the dining table, and I could still not help smiling. As she served lunch, I was grinning.

She actually slapped me that day.
"What took you so long......"? she sobbed.........

I didnt remember what I said, but the Dosa's were hot, and I was famished.......

2005-02-23T05:13:00.000-08:00

Its Funny (Part 3)

...The bad Goll ran here, there everywhere...and he got a beating....i asked him to leave...he sobbed, begged and pleaded. I would have none of it....I put my foot down, and showed him the door.

At the door, I caught his eye, filled with remorse.....it cringed...."Okay this is the last time"...i said the forbidden words of forgiving....

.....life rolled on.....it was nearly three years before I met Rach again.
It was at the coffee store round the corner. I almost didnt recognise her. She had toned down, there were no free flowing tresses, there was no necklines plunging dangerously low.....in short there was little of Rach left...

I walked up....and said something like...why is it that its always the guy who has to be the first one to say hi...!! She smiled....sorry, I didnt notice you she said. No, there was no acerbic taunt, there was no curse to man kind....or any suggestion indicating the unworthiness of my existance. It was a meek apology.
"its kool" , i said, feeling rather foolish.
"Been a long time ", i lingered on....."ya", she nodded," how have you been", she asked. "Good, going on" I said.

" Got to go", she said aplogetically, " Sure", catch you later...., I turned around and walked away...

"Are you free this weekend", I heard a voice behind me. I turned around surprised...."Dunno, got to check," I said..." Sure, give me a buzz" she said.
Though the happenings were strange, I forgot it till late on Friday when I was struggling with more politics than work in the office, that I got a call. I couldnt identify the number so I picked the call.
"Rajesh," I said..." Hey, it me " said the voice on the other side. " Hi, am in a meeting, is this your number I will call back", i said."Sure..it is"..disconnect.

We grabbed a bite at one of the corner joints. I was distressed with what was happening in the office, and didnt speak much.
"You have changed a lot" she said. I looked at her quizzically...."No ways , am still the same"..."I think its your new hair cut, it makes you look more serious". "you mean ..."i probed, its not often that women compliment me....."forget it" she switched topics. I let it go.

"What do you do now ?" I asked. " I run my own boutique" she said. "hmm, saounds kool, always wanted to ask one question". "What is a boutique" i asked. She giggled, "its like a small clothes shop, which sells costly stuff".
"Hmm...how is it doing ?" "These skyrocketing retail space costs are driving me mad, not to mention high interest rates and scroungy suppliers".

I liked her a lot suddenly, she sounded smart. We spoke a lot more about the store. I told her to switch loans, gave her a friends number who could give her a good deal on it.
"What do you do" she asked apolegetically. I told her. "Wow, you are a big man, I never realised your smart" she crooned. The compliments made me uneasy. "Is there something specific you want?" "Why, she said , "No i havent been used to compliments from you"

"I was a kid then, its only after dad that I realised all that mom was going through. I have grown up in a hurry you can say" she said. I didnt know this mature lady sitting in front of me.

We spoke of was and when........i seemed to like the fact that she liked me. What I liked more was that she liked me for the right reasons.....and then....

2005-02-22T06:04:00.000-08:00

Its Funny (Part 2)

As you know, we nice guys cant spend our lives feeling hurt, and so I got on with life and Rach's friend. Well life suddenly seemed to rock, she turned out to be one of those gold diggers who knew gold dust from sand. In the same vein she thought highly of me, and was courageous enough to ask me out on Saturday.

Well she seemed to have an interesting way of thinking and laughed at my feeble attempts at humor. I went back home booking the Ragavendra Kalyana mandapam for our marriage in my mind.

So it was on my door step, that a tinkling mobile stopped me. With the keys in one hand and darkness on the other, I frantically pulled my phone out, faintly aware of who it might be.

It was Rach, I smiled as i saw the name flash, she was calling to apologise for the evening, i told myself.
Hey you have my mobile charger or some such irrelevant thing was what she spoke about. My head split into dispropotionate halfs in my attempt to explain that life goes on in the absence of a charger. In amongst the most irritated conversations I have had,I sought to explain the exponential possibility of the presence of multiple chargers in the vicinity in which she lived.Suddenly my battery beeped, and I thanked Nokia and God, while I went of air.

I called up B, and told him the good news first,"Got a hot date for tomorrow dude", B was not B for no reason " How was it with Rach," he came to the point.

Forget her, i said quickly sidestepping, the evening's scars. Okie whats the hot ones name he asked unable to contain himself. The minute i spoke he rattled out 13 names, all male. They were old boy friends, he told me. She changes them like towels. I actually didnt mind, its nearly a year since I changed mine. How often do women change towels I asked perturbed ? "About thrice a day" B said.

I didnt want to speak to anyone suddenly. I told B i was sleepy and hung up. I walked around the house aimlessly. I lay down, women are ephemeral, I told my self. I was twice bitten and still not shy. Sleep crept upon me like dwindling vacations, and suddenly it was time to wake up.

Have you ever realised how well you work when you are scared or frustrated. Its because work gives you an escape route. For once you are happy to be busy. Its like when you know India's losing, you dont want to know the score any more. Robert Miles even walked the extra mile in saying, you probably enjoy work under such duress.

Well I did too, and soon it was evening. Gollums awoke in my brain, thus they spake

Good goll: Its worthless, its another KLPD
Bad Goll: She was Hot
Good Goll : Why do you want bite the dust every time
Bad Goll : Its getting late, where do you take her ?
Godd Goll : Tell her, you have work, or you dont feel like it, finish it off
Bad Goll : There's nothing else to do either, get to know more people.....

You always know who wins...and I called my Precccious, and fixed a romantic dinner at some undisclosed location (been dying to use tht word..:)).

She arrived stunningly dressed in black, or was it brown, maybe blue, I was busy staring at that Punju aunty behind her. When the heart is not in it, the mind is and my toungue slid into Glib talk mode.
I held my breath as I walked towards her, "you leave me breathless", I said. What ? she said. These are the occasions when astrology becomes an exact science. I didnt need to use it though to understand my evening was going to be a disaster.

I spoke about literature, cricket, tennis, the Iraqi conflict and other pressing worldly matters which I didnt care about. She spoke about boy friend 1, 2,3 ,4 etc and how they had been nice people till she met nicer people...or somehting like that. Soon we figured out that we were speaking about different things, and we limited our conversation to the food...it went like

me: ..mmmm...the bbbbheel ishh Good....you want some
She: no i hate bhel...do you want to eat some Chinese....
me: I am Veg
She: wow, you can have munchy fried , dried, old, can't swallow rice.....
me: Kool...sounds yummy...you know wat
She:What ? (she had a cute what, though)
Me: I will have a Rava Dosa, in Udipi on the way back
She: is that good
Me: Dunno, its cheap!!

Well i dropped her off, and as usual she lived on the other edge of the Galaxy, and it was bloody late before i got back. It was cold, I was hungry, and the light in the distance looked like cops........i made a mental note to screw the hell out of Bad gollum...after getting back home.......

TBC.....

2005-02-21T05:30:00.000-08:00

Its Funny

I think it happenes all the time. Don't you think so to. Things that happen in your life..are what have already happened to others, unless you played Tennis with the Yeti or out ran ben johsson.

Life really is predictable , or so i thought....when I first met Rach..i donated quite a large quantity of saliva to the earth. Little is known of all the insects that passed through my mouth then.
Well there was a problem, she was'nt returning my stare.

Well theres nothing new in that, but this time, I had to talk to her. I walked up and rudely interrupted her conversation. Hey, Rajesh, havent seen you around here, you new ?, I asked a little surprised at my words myself.
Yep, Rach she said, you been here long ?. Nope, never seen the place, just arrived I said. You asked if I was new like you own the place, she spewed. I was looking for a chance to talk to you, i said truthfully.

If all the apples from the Himachal were heaped on snow, you couldnt have bettered the rosiness of her cheeks as she blushed a thousand sunsets on those milky cheeks.Oh, she giggled, and I had a heart attack.

I think she was speaking to another girl, but it didnt matter. The other human who ever it was, ashamed by the unabated flirt, sought solace in distant corners of the Galaxy. We couldnt have cared less, and Rach didnt mind much either. We spoke of this and that, and my heart bled.

I married and remarried her a thousand times in my heart. I removed a million obstacles and pleaded with my parents to let me have this one thing. I spoke to my sister in a harsh tongue, and then sobbed softly telling her how much I loved Rach.

It was time to leave suddenly, and waves of doom swept my mind.I got her number, address, Birthdate, ration card number and a million unnecessary details. I called her at the next opportune minute, and like all pretty women she answered like missing me was her only occupation.

me : What are you doing this friday ?
R : ia m partying with my friend
Me : Oh ok? (A thousand cells wanted to know if it was a Guy or a Girl ?)
Me : So..kool...where do you plan to go
R: Dunno, some wild pub
Me:( Shucks she drinks, she dances, she is out with other men ?) So how many of you
R: Just me and a friend
Me: (Out with it......asss)Okie guy or girl
R: Girl..why ?
Me : (a silent prayer..i love this world) awesome...can i join you...?
R: Dunno...
Me: No i promise not to flirt with your friend ...(best joke tht evening)
R: No its kool, go ahead
Me: (Shucks, why am I the only Jealous one always, anyways tanx for the opportunity) ..figured out the details..

and met them..unlike all the movies...R was with a pretty lass, who had a mindblowing you know what.....
Suddenly my mind asked me a few questions, but like the jerks that we are, I acted like a faithful husband in a non existant relationship. I wouldnt look at lissome lass, telling myself that the pain of denial was the price I was paying for my love R. R cooly let her eyes rove about every male in the room.

I kept following her eyes with the hope that they land on me. She looked at some nice looking men, and then she settled on one guy and I told myself, no ways, he looks worse than Danush after a car wash....
She turned around and caught my eye, I couldnt help remarking , I am a Nordic God, if he's a looker, i couldnt help saying. "You and Looks", she fell down, haaa, in a hysteria of laughter.
Well we have all been hurt, it hurts to fail when your friends have passed an exam, it hurts when you are run out without facing a ball, it hurts when Arsenal loses, but it hurt the most then.

I actually ran to the loo to check the mirrors if had been badly disfigured in the few seconds before i said the words and after ??
She stopped after a while, and didnt even ask me if I was hurt. I said something uneccesary about how I know where I stand and then looked around for a chair to sit.

....TBC

2005-02-17T05:04:00.000-08:00

The Goteborg Diaries -2

We walked about ten blocks to Björkrisvagen...to a provision store ...picked up some groceries...and a few beers...walked back...and took the winding road....more snow....
If you come from where I do..you would have thought Snow was a mythical Caucasian..or an English fast bowler...if u loved music..u wld have hummed Informer..but this was real...a Beautiful white carpet all around...lotsa Pine trees the only vegetation...tht we imported during Christmas....and there was real snow on them...no cotton..i really did walk up and check......it was the only ubiquitous thing.....

there was no path..so we made tracks...and trudged upwards...we kept walking..and i told myself that i had just reached Goteborg..and its not a good Swedish cutom do die on Day 1...Day 2 is fine....

We kept walking..and then we were on top of the world..okie not the world ..just the city...Gaurav and Alok...sipped their Beers..while me the eternal teetotaler..watched..okie..maybe not eternal..;)..
We spoke about many countries..and then the wind started howling....so we trudged back....and stopped over at en empty caravan....no one there...

Reached MH...and called Amma and appa...Sajithäs kids bDay had been celebrated the previous day...so there was lotsa food...grabbed everything I cld lay my hands on.....
cldnt sleep...maybe tht,s wat they call Jet lag....

Well its been 4 Days,..and its been okie...

Except that I tried coming to office alone..I took the 43 to Hjalmar got off at Macd´s...but then I forgot where to get off for office....I panicked and Jumped off at the Volvo Hallen.....and had to walk a bloody mile...no big deal...ya..try it when wind chill makes it feel like 10 degrees below ...and u aint sure if you have both feet..or you were born handicapped....and then your nose threatens to fall off.....

well...crashed at Balaji,s place last night...its 10 km from Brunnsparken....dunno the name...and watched Sathi Leelavathi...heaven ..if you havent seen tht do it now...
Okie for some one who wants to come to office...heres the route
take the 43 or the 41 to Hjalmar and then take the 28 or 29 to Volvo Frolunda....but the bus stops are difficult to make out...
Some one Told me Vasstrafik..is going to implement RFID...in its buses.....
Okie more later from me folks...

2005-02-17T04:31:00.000-08:00

The Goteburg Diaries -1

13th Nite- More like Sunday early Morning - Chennai to Frankfurt - Lufthansa some number :

I walked in to find my seat, I passed many people but i still didnt find my seat, then I walked more and then where the aeroplane ended, I paused....wass where my seat was. Well good thing was it had only two seats...why because it was in the bloody Tail ...also there was a beautiful Lady right next to me...

Slept fitfully..till early morning...

Heather was her name, teaching at Harvard was her game, and I got talking...she was in Madras to help India...something I ve never thought about....or done as yet.....
It was probably one of the most interesting conversations i have had in my life....we exchanged cultures, thoughts and promised to exchange Reciepes...She turned out to be very accomodating.. "She had her way and then Had her way again " :)

Hey HeatherIi did make my connecting...your *moderate* prayers did work.....

No problems at Passport Kontrol...

14th Feb Frankfurt to Gothenburg - Another something Luft....
First Bite
Me to Airhostess : Mam is this Veg
AH : Ya, its Turkey....
Me:"##¤%, okie just had a bite......got to be careful..Okie plsss give me Cheeeessee Sandwiches plsss..I am Veg!!

Landed at Gothenburg..
Huge crowd at Baggage..4 People.....
Picked up Bag..no Problem....

Got forex..walked out...- I think I will pick up...a Buss....walk outt of Revloving doors...

Mannnnnnnnn...-5 Degrees....nnnnnoo Buss..

Brrr....wind..cant breathe...taxi plss...Nice Driver..he speaks Fluent Slovenian..or some East European Tongue....We greeted each other....Boric Niam....He kept speaking through out....first I replied in English....then it didnt matter..so I alternated between Hindi and Tamil....

He didnt know the route..so he typed my Address into the GPS..on his left...and it told him every turn till the house...If that aint a technologically advanced Civilsation wat is...
Reached Hisingsbackä, cant drive any more......there was a 4 inch layer of snow....

We skid our way to Mindhome....
Gave him a 5 Kr tip...and forgot to get the bill.....see what the cold does to you...hope they pay me back at the office.....

Beautiful Room..its in Mind Home..so obviously was MindBlowing...
Dropped stuff...and Gaurav and Alok..were going shopping...and for a walk onto the mountain behind MindHome...So I put in three layers of protection a Leather jacket, gloves and went out feeling very cold.....

2005-02-07T23:31:00.000-08:00

"Italia telecom's Ad and Gandhiji"

If you check this ad and dont have Goose Bumps, Please dont Read furthur. http://www.epica-awards.org/assets/epica/2004/winners/film/flv/11071.htm

55 Years after his death, and a hundred history lessons later this is probably the first time I had the opportunity to actually hear the Father of the nation. ...Thanks to an Italian Firm.

Gandhiji probably will go down in History as a Person who was most respected out side his own country. While we repeatedly name all premier by lanes in the country as Mahatma Gandhi Road, we soon lose sight of the idea with the acronym MG.

Have we taken the great man for granted. What does he mean to us ? A holiday in october a Minutes Silence on Martyr's Day (even that has been done away with).
The father of the nation remains just that, an answer in your 4th standard exam and a disrespectful reference to his watermark on the 500 rupee note.

Well as a Nation we are growing richer and stronger - a clear move from beggars to choosers.
The Americans want to sell arms and planes to us.

Man from USA : Hi we are looking at India as a strong market for our fighters
Reporter : Will that result in an Increase in H1- B Visas for Indians
Man from USA: I dont know about that , but I think we can also improve the retail sourcing we do from india
Reporter : But who takes the Decision on the Visa's
Man from USA : Are the Visa's the only thing your country thinks about
Reporter : Aghast, They are not the only thing, They are Everything!!
Man from USA : Some baseball coach said this long ago
Reporter : No way, It was in the upanishads, You guys copied it
Man from USA : Who is Upanishad ?
Reporter : Gosh, Its not a Who ?, Its a What!!!!

2005-02-07T22:12:00.000-08:00

Aero India

There is an Aero Show at Yelahanka from Feb 9-13. It really sounds good. If you are planning to visit it, you are in luck, the state government just put a Disaster Management plan in place.

Its like this, if a Mig or a Sukhoi were to come hurtling towards ur dainty cranium, they have plenty of ambulances on stand by, they have a few fire engines around too, in case the fuel catches fire - Just a few thousand gallons (by the time they put it out , you could resemble your favourite barbeque- but that's beyond the point- for the plan is in place). All the hospitals have been asked to reserve 200 beds or more for Casualty handling.

But..This takes the cake though, in case you dont make it, you will get preferential burial or cremation at the corporation crematorium - are you going for the Air show - I think I'll just watch it on TV.
Any of you learned ones who read this, what did they plan for - cause a disaster / prevent it ?(Don't tell me they planned in case a Disaster occured - for I would Rather a Sukhoi never fell on my head wat abt you!)

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Rediscovering India

The world seems to be rediscovering India, Boeing has just handed conracts aplenty to HAL and HCL (H common), German automakers want to outsource design, Norwegians want to partner in food processing, Airbus even thinks that A-380 can be sold here, mobile phones get manufactured, Finaland wants to teach us unaccented English.

Being Indian is acceptable citizenship in the Global village. Eevry one wants to be like us, but I met this guy last week, who wears a Bulls T Shirt, a 69 ers cap and was tring to play baseball, not to mention Samir - (Oh i didnt tell u guys didnt I) The conversation went like this.....

Me : Hey, Venki
Samir: Hey, Sammmir, i'm from Nu York
Me : Wat do you do ?
Samir: I manage a Hedge Fund
Me: (Bloody impressed) : Okie, who's fund is this , thinking ala (Franklin Templeton etc)
Samir : Ah, my Own
Me: Faintin, Your own - Turning to Chinu- he's a Bank dude!!!

Well Samir spent the nite wishing the Autowallas Namaste on the empty MG Road at 1.30 am.
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Planning to post more this afternoon....you must have figured out by now.....I never keep my promises!!

2005-02-02T20:50:00.000-08:00

The Buffet Effect

Its official, what you want you cant get. The more you dislike something, be assured that it will happen. Do I sound like Murphy, apologies, I am just mighty pissed.

I actually have no reason to crib.It is just that off late, I am so used to having my way in everything, that minor delays or glitches get me going into a rant. Often i dont understand how people put up with me. Thank God I have turned this post around from being a bloody negative outpouring of emotion into a positive thought that everyone can use.

I think I had my enlightening moment when, Priya and I walked out of Coffee day feeling really low, cribbing about how life had nothing to offer us etc, considering both of us are from one of India's Best B-Schools, have jobs we arent to unhappy about and yet we still find an occasion to crib. While we just walked out of the Coffee joint having nonchalantly sipped an extravagant coffee, we noticed someone in the dark. It was the security guard,covered by the shadows - mighty representative of the fact that his existance is but unknown - unfurling his food packets to silently consume his supper.

I think you could have slapped me then and I wouldnt have reacted.The pain was already too much. I already have so much in life and I still cant stop craving and cribbing. I need more money, women, cars and loads of other things. I really dont know what I will do with all of these, because the funniest truth is that no matter how many Cars you have , you can only drive or travel in one.

I call it the Buffet effect. Have you ever walked into a plush hotel where an extravagant buffet has been laid out. A menu so delicious that even writing about it gets my mouth watering, but the minute you walked in and saw all that food, you werent so hungry any more. In fact the souffle was a little too sweet.

On the other hand my best meals have always come after a bloody hard day on a road side Dhaba. Its not that we are unaware of these things. It's just that its fashionable to criticise and crib. Its so much the in thing to vent ones frustrations on the world around, while we keep forgetting that we have so much.

If that sounded like a biblical post, forgive me, i am prone to bouts of thoughtfullness as much as I amprone to madness. Call it whatever...but its the Truth!!

2005-02-01T03:08:00.000-08:00

Another Post bites the Dust..

I have actually put in some work on my Blog. I know its still isnt the apostle of web design, but hope it atleast has improved readability. Tanx to Priya, Ramya, Harish and other samritans who gave me the feedbck.

Not feeling too funny , actually am feeling pretty funny, guess its the weather. Pretty murky here in Bangalore, and Life's getting depressing too. I have been reading a few of those inspirational books that ask you to think positively.
There has just been one improvement, when there is a negative thought I now know its a negative thought!!

Quite a few of us have been wondering about this baffling thing?What next in life ? (Actually the few is three people i spoke to last evening). Putting What next in perspective, its not as if we have achieved a lot and standing at the pinnacle of glory we ponder our next step.

I think the truth is more like, Okay now that I havent done much and dont look or feel like doing much, what am I doing on planet earth ? Hmm, any of you sympathise with that ?

Don't fret I havent adopted suicidal overtones yet, (Yepp tht'll happen the next time I see 0 comments below my blog :)).
Havent done work of any sort in office. Worst thing is no body seems to mind. I am firmly ensconced on a flat Bench with a future as bright as Sadagopan Ramesh's in Tennis.
Kamal has actually invited me to his B Day party on Feb 5th. I cant believe that over 33 people are turning up for it.

A corny one to finish it off anyways

Young Boy : Santa pls give me a brother
Santa : Pls send me your Mother !!

2005-01-27T21:32:00.000-08:00

OOO...Henry

Imagine, how perplexed you would be if a harmless essay that you once penned in earnest and in sneaky consultation with a neighbouring answer sheet was suddenly compared with those time tested masterpieces that William Sydney Porter crafted.

Moks was as perplexed. Though his inability to attach logic to an issue was far removed from the literary discussion we had above. He was perplexed because Shyamala, was looking prettier than usual and she had thrown one of her petite smiles on his path. Moks reacted swiftly, he swiveled around on his heel and surveyed his back, there was no one. Even the presence of a different Male would have lent substance to his argument that Shyamala was smiling at him, but with no one behind, his options were severely restricted.

After considerably mulling over the consequences, he threw what he called one of his charming smiles. Shyamala contorted her face into a complex retort, leaving Moks in doubt as to the meaning of the frown. It also left him perplexed, for Moks thought, Shayamala smiled at him, he had checked that out, he had smile back- he had read about that-he had to do that when pretty women smiled, when he did - she frowned, so he was perplexed, which is where we first met him.

If you were to walk by Moks at that precise moment in time, he would have remarked, Shyamala's a wierd girl, or something equally derogatory.

Moks walked along. Never do you sight two moons in the sky, unless you were under the heavy influnece of sopoforics or spirits in unhealthy quanta's. Moks saw two pearly moons in the form of those heavenly eyes , when Shyamala walked past him into the class, and he would have sworn upon everything that was dearest to him and you that she smiled at him.

Moks stood back a moment and thought about all that a smile could cause, all the hardships, the perplexities and the reactions. He wanted to give it a second chance. Moks smiled, but this time there was a bearded reaction, like a convict who had jumped into a police Jeep looking for a quick getaway, the Prof glared back at Moks. He promised never to smile at anyone or anything that day.

It was another two months before he gathered the courage to utter a few words to Shyamala. "What's the time " ? he croaked. "Late for you kiddo, you should be in bed " she squealed , sending a retinue of her companions into peals of laughter.

"With whom, " he replied. "What?" came the stunned reply. "No,you said I should be in Bed, so i asked with whom"? muttered Moks.
----------------------******************----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Moks, wake up buddy", said the voice in the darkness. As he pried his eyes open, he recalled the snap of a sandal in the distance and there was something akin to a smile on his face.

Time rolled on like policies in the ManMohan adminstration.

Moks held one of those ultra secure , little work, some money type of jobs with a software firm.

Mummy had issued the non bailable arrest warrant. I want you to get married by the end of the year, she had said sternly."But mom, I am just a kid". "You a kid, you are older than all the other buffalos in the street,Look at Rajeev, he has a kid and Swami- he is younger than you and I think his wife is going to have a second kid, I dont know whether he works or just spends all day with his wife, in any case--I should be holding grandchildren in my arms by next year, " she commanded.

When mom's propose even God deposes, and Moks was just mortal.

---What happens Next ??----If you thought this one reads like one of your neighbourhood soaps, trust me I have been forced into such endeavours to bolster readership..(do you know how it feels to blog all night and to keep seeing 0 Comments on the bottom....)
WYSIWYG!!!

2005-01-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

Peace of Mind

Did I tell you folks about that day on a crowded BMTC bus. I was carrying one of those tiny passport size photographs , that you always need for something or the other. The Bus was bloody crowded, but I was curious to see how the photo had come out. I could not check it in the photo store, for a decent chick was hanging out behind me. So I hastily sped away. Too many people everywhere and by the time i could pull it out the bus pulled up and I thought if I missed the, my foto will be up for Gralands anyways.

So I hurriedly jumped on. There was a vacant seat. Red shirt and I knew what we were thinking. All the daily morning jogs kept me fit, and I was there in a jiffy. The seat was mine, and i turned around to smile at Red shirt. He smiled back and lifted his handkerchief from the seat with exorbitant care. I didnt want to sit any more.

More people clambered on, like always, cant turn, cant move, and white shirt thrust his aromatic armpits below my nostrils. I knew it was a Sarin attack, and I gasped shoved and reacted angrily enough, like a Bihari asked for his reservation ticket on a train , (one he has'nt heard of reservations, two the word ticket is a slur on his ancestry).

Suddenly there was enough space and I heaved a sigh. My friends have often asked my if I paint exorbitant canvases and stuff them into my wallet. For it always overflows like a married Marwari, and it never has money in it. In any case I extracted it and endeavored to pull the foto's out when the corner of my eye, noticed the pretty thing standing just behind me. She was exquisitely clad in a Saree and my hand slipped. The foto's crashed to the ground.

"Excuse me, I called out " kneeling on the floor, pretty thing looked at me.
"Excuse me , can you please lift your leg, i need to take a photograph, I said earnestly". Stomp, I felt one of those Great wall of China high heels come down on my fingers.

"Oooo...she screamed...." there were many hands on me. I never made out all that happened.The face was the worst they told me.When I woke up, i recall seeing my dad. he says , that I can;t be photographed for quite some time. All the brusies he says.

I still havent seen how those foto's came out. if you have the time do stop over at GK Vale's in Jayanagar.

As an aside I need to tell you guys about Nanda, my childhood buddy who's literary immensity has always surprised the world. In an intellectually inspired moment when I asked him if he had read Shakespere, he said "No, who wrote it" !!

2005-01-09T21:45:00.000-08:00

Blog Comments ...

Reader 1 : " I didnt read much of your blog , in fact i didnt start at all, in any case...why dont you reduce your font size"

Reader 2: " hey you an Oasis fan"
Me : " Tanx for reading my blog I am not "
Reader 2 " : " Who read your blog , I'm just scouting for Oasis fans "

Reader 3 : " Dear blogger donate for Tsunami relief"
Me : Tanx for reading my blog , I already have "
Reader 3 : " I swear i didnt read ur blog, dont charge me for it , I was only looking for Tsunami donations "

Reader 4 : --[ Met him on the way }
Me : "Hi dude"
Reader 4 : "Dude awesome blog you have "
Me : " thrilled...gee Tanx..which post did you like "
Reader 4 : " i didnt read the posts , I like the grey on the sides "

Reader 5 : " Venks, i happened to see your blog "
Me : "Awesome, wat do you think"
Reader 5 : " Nice title...didnt have time to read more......"
Me : "er.....Aw...."

Reader 6 : " Why dont you blog ?"
Me: "Smiling....I already do..., you read blogs"
Reader 6 : " Yepp I am a blogophile ...wats your link ..."
Me : " watever that is....do you comment ? "
Reader 6 : " No ...i am commentophobic....Wats the link ?"
Me :.."er...i yanked my blog offline last evening...."!!

Pretty reader 1: " Venks wat are blogs ?"
Me : " Just a digital means to expression....and its free...."
Pretty reader 1 : " Wow...sounds awesome....do you have one "
Me :" Blush...ya...will you read it.."
Pretty reader 1 : "Suree....."
Later...
Me: "Did you check out the link ?"
Pretty reader 1 : " But ..it didnt work ???"
Me : Wat did you do ?"
Pretty reader 1 : "Nothing ?"
Me: "No, I mean wat did you do to the link "
Pretty reader 1 : "No really i didnt do anything to the link "
Me : Sweating profusely : " Did you click on it ? "
Pretty reader 1 : " hey , you getting jumpy...I didnt do anything to your link....and I dont want to read it any more.
Me : .................

Pretty reader 2 : " hey..MR..told me about your blog"
Me :...not so sure if it was a good idea...." Polite..Ok."
Pretty reader 2 :" Send me the link"
Me :...er..ya will do...but you need to click on the link
Pretty reader 2 : of course I' ve been bloggin for years"
Me : "Few prayers on lips...and less sweat ...Kool"

Much later
Me : "Did ya read it ? "
Pretty reader 2 : ..I went there...but"
Me : But ?
Pretty reader 2 : it was too long...and you didnt put any pictures ?
Me : er...it was only a 50 word blog ?
Pretty reader 2 : " leave tht did you watch Indian Idol last nite..."
Me : ah..who's Idle ??

2005-01-03T03:08:00.000-08:00

The Man Manmohan

Sometimes you are filled with so much pride that your chest swells up and you seek the Gods to thank, this is one of those moments. India and all of us Indians have stood up and our much criticised politicians have acted with such maturity and capacity , for once the mind applauds.

Saying no to American aid. "Thanks, but no thanks, we can take care of ourselves". This is certainly proof that we have realised our capabilities and are willing to stand up for our problems. Not only did we say no to American aid, we are a member of the Core group, along with of course the eternal samaritan US, Japan and France.

We have already contributed the max in cash to aid the Sri Lankans a whooping 70 million $ in cash. A clear indication that our homes are clean and that we can afford to help others clean up to.

Is this the beginning of a new world order. The mind stops to ponder the endless possibilities. In a future where the brains are back in our country and coming back is not a sign of failure but a sensible decision to pursue more opportunities at home.

As every facet of our life gets benchmarked and we strive to match and raise standards we are also realising our strengths and in some cases a sudden awakening to the fact that the developed world is'nt actually that developed.

What we have done as a country I think is a lesson that we ourselves can use as individuals. Not indicating that the work is complete by any means. We have turned our biggest problem a burgeoning population into one of our strengths, and now people talk about human resources and intellectual capital. They call us a young population with more than 40% of the coutry in the age group 25-40, the opportunities are endless.

Well every optimistic note needs a sprinkling of pessimism , the fear of which will reinforce our focus. Complascence is as much an Indian trait as as intelligence and adaptability. It is a curse that has spared neither you nor me and we must remain wary of this as we motor along the 21 st century, changing gears from followers to leaders, from chaos to creators of order and a friend to the international community.

Well done my brethern, we have arrived but the journey is endless and we need to keep walking.

2005-01-03T00:50:00.000-08:00

Have you been to Vietnam ?

That's what my brother asked me one fine friday, as he rolled over laughing. No I stuttered, vaguely picturing where the answer was taking me.I had just compared Coorg to Vietnam, when this question was popped.

Ramki needed oxygen and other mendicants to rouse him from the fit of laughter that overcame the Normal human being that he was.

Stung, and feeling as shocked as the Indian hockey Team as if it were about to beat Papua New Guniea and Fiji 12-10 in a close encounter, I paused.

Did I ask my geography teacher, who eloquently professed the benefits of developed nations and warned us of the artic winters , whether she contrived to spend a cold december there.

I went onto regret the fact that I never asked my History teacher, if she was a close confidante of Ashoka, considering the conviction with which she professed his goodness, or if she was a beneficiary of Chankya's will, now that she portrayed the Arthashastra as a Treatise of exceptional depth.

A search for my oldest shoe , I initiated , for I never asked my Physics guru's if they travelled in rockets, or witnessed the Big bang or if Fleming was left handed. Just imagine asking Mrs Lalitha Thiagarajan, if she had actually seen the atom or if the covalent bonds in water were risky??

AsIi pondered more such trivialities, I must document the absolute blast that bro, Tusks and me had on Sat. One of those nights when the tummy struggles to cope with the humor.If you find the time check out "Chasing Amy". A movie of such artistry in portrayal, and such depth of emotions that you start to question why you need those parts of the male body above the belt!!

Of course you should'nt do that, if your a married man, with a spouse who is more righteous than the average, or if you were a kid who couldnt own a license, or a decent human being who's views of a few bodily functions , still clings onto old fashioned notions of privacy.

Also if your sane and hate Govinda, or have never screamed aloud in the middle of MG Road, because the crowd drove you crazy, or have never been straved for female company for more than 25 years of your life, you shouldnt watch this Movie.

In any case , if you find the CD and have 15 bucks, rent it out and Enjoy!

2004-12-20T21:50:00.000-08:00

"Tribute to MS"

It is not often that I have felt the urge to cry. The desire to swallow lumps and get over the sorrow of a mishap with that incredible pressure valve tears.I still couldnt cry.

The news of Madurai Shanmugavadivu Subbulkashmi, hit me like a thousand icy needles on a wintery morning.I know nothing of carnatic music. In a family besotted with musicians of high calibre, the only tales of my musical abilites are hidden in funny tales about music teachers who left without wages and still spoke highly about escaping in one piece or of neighbourhood kids who wailed non stop as if someone had slipped a Hamam soap instead of the soft Johnson's baby soap into their bath.

I continued my association to music , by repeatedly driving the ball onto the door of the room where my sister earnestly sang Geetham's . When this had no effect and "Mahaganapathim" was reaching a crescendo, I would calmly substitute the soft tennis ball with a rock hard SG cherry.

When the bat completed the arc the ball raced away like a Hayden in full flight. The decibel level of the resulting thwack was instrumental in deciding the number of runs for the stroke. The issue was put to a hasty close when the teacherarmed with a stick ran after with vile intent, and the loud cries of my sister reached my ears while I hid in the water tank on the terrace.

Much water flowed under the bridge. Work, emotions, career options , Take homes and Esop's had corrupted my thoughts. In those rare moments when I was not sporting a false smile , or groaning with work pressure, I was allowed to be myself, the lilting tunes of MS were my cradle.

The notes so reminescent of everything that is so Carnatic and south Indian (not getting regionlistic , but just a throw back to my roots). Her nose rings and that saintly visage, eyes closed in salvation, MS had the world literally dancing to her tunes.

MS is a way of life, many are the Tamils who wake up to Venkatesha Suprabatham and hot coffee.

Sometimes when a few people leave, life becomes better, sometimes some of them leave behind a chasm, a vaccum so immense that it takes a generation to fill the void.

Again the void is not closed by matter, but by time, for as this generation moves onto the next, there will be those who never heard MS sing in flesh and blood. They will be spared of the pain of separation, but they will also miss the Saint of Song.....
May she rest in peace .......

2004-12-14T00:59:00.000-08:00

Twice a Day

That sounds more like my doctor. The guy who doles out red , white and yellow pills...He was the one who suggested to my trusting parents that , somebody switched cradles....all because of a simple experiement of mine.In a flash reminescent of Benjamin Franklin's discovery of electricity, I set forth to determine the law of mixtures of differently coloured capsules and tablets.

As they say, the hands moved faster than the eye could see and I presented a much improved concoction of mixed medicenes to my doctor. Panacea, I was telling myself, if one medicene could cure one disease then many could cure many more.

As i presented it with utmost care, and proudly announced the emergence of a marvel, I expected a squeal of delight, may be a cry of astonishment, but it was not to be."Aah," he cried. An agonising wail, a cry of disgust and many more. He cursed, raved, ranted and spoke many words which I was not to encounter for many decades.

Of course, the folly was in the ingenuity of the thought. How could I presume that a mediocre practitioner of the lowly profession of saving lives, could understand all the thought that went into destroying his livelihood.

"Mixing my tablets , you little devil , wait till i get my hands on you. He 's fine , he needs nothing, Maybe a spank a day will keep him as fit as hay. Beat him thrice a day, you can use anything hard, sometimes sharp things too....."

My mom hurriedly dragged me away from the clinic, still thinking about cradles and switches.....in no particular order.

The years rolled by and my love for physicians blossomed like a Lotus at Dawn. My mom dragged me to Dr.Kannan's clinic, " He's caught the flu again" she complained. "Been drinking a lot of beer eh ?", he smiled mischviously, when my fame as the only teetotaler in the batch was as widespread as Oynx dustbins.

"The boys nowadays , you just cant imagine all that they do", he continued. " Why, Mr.Narasimhan's son, spends most of his waking hours on the Meenakshi college parapet, ridiculing all those pretty women", he hinted with more than a tinge of mischief.

"Yes doctor, he even tripped a pretty thing last evening and she happened to be one of those women policemen that the government has deployed to rein in eve teasers". "Ha,ha ", he Guffawed loudly, "he must have got quite a wack, guess he's still in jail " he blurted out seams splitting with laughter. "My son Rajesh though is always at his books," he boasted."why he even has'nt got back from his night study session, if only all kids were that responsible". I could hear a trumpet from across the window.

"Give him two rounds of this nasty syrup and no tasty food , for many days, he will die or the virus in him will", was the upshot of his prescription. I winced as amma paid the huge bill again.

As we were leaving, i turned around , "Doctor i forgot to tell you, Mr Narasimhan's son is a brute, but he's a smart brute". "Why"? he looked at me questioningly. " When he tripped that policewomen, he was not the one they caught." "Oh, good for him", he said almost despairingly, and then he caught the twinkle in my eyes.

Closing the door and loudly enough for amma to hear I said "They caught Rajesh instead " I giggled.
"Isnt it time we changed doctors", amma said. I nodded meekly.

2004-12-13T22:24:00.000-08:00

In Bro's footsteps..

Well, as my brother would have typed, Had a nice few days. One of those where I did most things I had planned. Funnily my life suddenly became blog worthy.

Well on Saturday....woke up feeling bored...did my five rounds to keep my 21 day target........and lazed about at Priya's...till after noon...and shamelessly asked aunty for some lunch. muttered a few lines about troubling aunty and ate my hearts fill......watched sachin run up a record shatterring 34 th ......suddenly i decided to swing into action...well didnt have too many options........had to shift.....and if i didnt do it then ...the week...would just be a mess.......

Of course....only a few friends are around when U want them...Priya...is certainly one of them.....so...moved into New house...with my Lady's help .......at some time......hope it was auspicious...picked up some decent Tee's have been eyeing for long....and hopped onto a Bus to Good ol Cochin....well its Ol to other s but bloody new to me....

Well.....it was there that i got talking to Joby....Folks ....if you have been reading interesting stuff....trust me Joby's life will put u in a spin...and launch u into a geo sync orbit...so much so tht u will never want to come down to earth....
read about tht in a blog tht is dedicated to Joby.......

time to move on...after Joby's mind blowing narration.....i slept blissfully unaware of the magic that Mohmmad Kutty wove on the 21 inch tapestry while we zoomed towards God's own country....

Sunday morning.....
In a move slicker than Kobe Bryant's latest One -Two......Joby handed me over to Jikku's waiitng Accent. Rode back to Jikku's house in the luxury of Korean engineering....and the comfort of the accent.

Well did I say house....correction ..bungalow....the word has been abused...but if you wanted to find the true meaning...follow me to the Indal Bungalows in Thalamassery...amidst Verdant lawns and a healthy periyar river swaggering in the background......reminded you of the Famous fives....where you landed in old homes...with tunnels filled with treasure......
Plucked out of a Indo English novel, the bungalows built by the canadians in 1944....had Royalty palstered all over.

Lawns, and pretty river for company see while you sipped the finest Coorg coffee....mellifluous tunes of Sachin's willow crashing another ball towards the battered bangla fences......filtering in from the hall.....

Well if that isnt life......what is.........

Soon..it was time to move on.......and much mirth and joy was part of the Jolly household. The youngest son in the house and by Far the smartest was entering the auspicious realms of holy matrimony.
We drove down to Cochin town and a fine looking Avenue hotel conditioned to a pleasant 22 degrees. Jikku looked fabulous in his golden suit and the Pair was clealry the cynosure of all eyes.

The team arrived (Sapnil, Bineesh, Jyoti and Siva) and suddenly everyone knew where the noise was comign from......After a sumptuous meal...it was time to leave the hall...and allow the groom..to handle more important visitors......

Led by Bineesh....we decided to explore the mystries that made it to so diffcult for the Dutch, Portugese and many more to leave beautiful Kerala.....

After a little hagling and a lot more leg pulling...we decide that the Boat ride around the city was the perfect foil to our great day.......
At 400 bucks for 5 ...it was quite a bargain........
Everytime I see a ship...i wonder why i didnt join the merchant Navy....in any case i come back to earth when I relaise that i think similarly whenever i see a plane, a batsman, a truck driver, a porter....amongest others.......such people have only the IT industry as an option.....

The ferry moved on without much ado....and soon....we passed the lovely Cochin Port trust office...and huge ships...and landed on the island of Mattancherry./......

There a splendid little Jew town awaited us.........A synagogue...a Rabbi , Jeovah and the works......little Antique shops...and you wonder why India wasnt the best tourist destination in the world.......

A lovely dutch museum..and fragile Murals that can't stand the harsh lights of photography or the focus of videos.....

...We move on...floating on a cool breeze with the harsh sun beating down..........its both warm and breezy.....you wonder why you ever need to work.......soon...we reach a few other islands..names i forget.......
and close to 5.30...some one shouts Land ahoy...and my fairy tale...quickly fades into the sordid Tale of The Shipwrecked IT Pro.....fond Farewells...in the Jolly household...and a super fast Volvo...tht reminds me of my client and the shit load of work tht awaits me...in Bangalore.........

End of Sunday...
end of blog.............

2004-12-09T01:47:00.000-08:00

It's My Life

Its more than a coincidence , that this blog is exactly like my life. Unnoticed, inconsistent, brilliant in parts, boring in others, unfocussed, no rythym to it, promising lots , delivering little, lost readership, and .....now i rarely blog.

Can't understand why I am writing all this, but I think its high time the truth was out. In parts its more complex than its supposed to be , in parts its just difficult. Its always trying to prove something, laden with some incessant pain somwhere in the depths, it changes form trying to be some one oe something that it is not.

Now it has lost all purpose , and its lost like I am, as to why it came into exisitence.There seems to be no overbearing to purpose to every word it contains.

There's a change , there will be a change , for the nth time I have decided to take control of my life. Fight with it like a fierce tiger, wrestle it to the earth and conquer the fallacies of life. Can't be done, he's smarter than you, you need to be from xyz to do it......they dont exist any more.

I never tried, or worked hard for anything, and if is till dont, it means i need to work harder. There is no failure...just the lack of effort.

Again there's hard work and smart work. Which one is your question. With a smile I walk towards the glistening board, an pen a tall structure in front of ou. There's one thing the goal, the objective or what you set to achieve, Smart and hard are words that can be used interchangably toachieve the goal. Again do i eman that you can randomly walk across legal barriers and trample people and emotions in attempting to achieve this. Nay I say...and walk to the board again. But this time I dont write cos suddenly I realise my marker is dry, In any case......

That's not the way to do it. These constarints are what give the word challenge a meaning. What if there were no goalkeeper and ten solid guys on the field, you would score a million goals, and be bored of it at the end. Is that an achievement.(here is your a smart alec and tell me, that this was the kind of open Goal that Beckham missed in Euro 2004), I will glare at you fiercely and indicate in no uncertain terms my willingness to indulge in unfriendly banter after I am done with my speech on life.

Again digressions, i started of with my life and ended up with Life in general, but if I am going to be a role model , my life should be an example for you to follow ...should'nt it????.....

2004-11-26T02:50:00.000-08:00

No Title

Havent blogged in weeks now. Yes, I will have to name the enemy, the proponent of this crime. It has been work. Not that I have been saddled with the travails of humanity, but it has always humg over my head as damocles would have hung his sword.

Well among the better things that are happening include my endeavour to teach underpriviledged children through Parikrma. I will tell you folks more about this on Monday.
The Ind v SA was a dmapner ,a dn I caught up with Kamal and Jai over the weekend. it was a long time and of course Kamal's ol buddy Amit was also in the Gang. I think dada and I caught this Movie Vaastu Shaastra, a damp squib, but still it had an element of the eerie within it, so much so that I realised that i stayed in a god forsaken place and was alla alone.

I think there is something about ghost movies, they accentuate the insecurities within us. That day was one where I managed to squeeze a siesta. Now whenever you do this, unlike a hard day at the office...where it doesnt matter if it were the lap of the fiercest ogre, you would mumble a few inanities about your job and snore away, fatigue is not a companian. Suddenly the darkness seems heavier , and memories are abound with the shrieks of Shyamalan's sixth sense or in this case Sush's Vaastu Shastra.

The hair on the back of my neck was suddenly aware of strange people walking from my bedroom to my kitchen. They always hid when I tried to search for them. I switched on the lights, and ina fit of barvado screamed " Dude's i know your there, come out or I'll kick your...." They didnt answer.

I was angry, I went back to watching more EPL , suddenly the bedroom window was open........

(More when I'm back from home...have a great weekend...)

2004-11-03T23:58:00.000-08:00

"Bushwacked in Ohio"

The bushmen of the Kalahari are the only set of people who can survive without any source of groundwater. Well GWBush junior reminds of them.

Well the state of Ohio has nearly done a Florida and the Indian's are faltering again in Mumbai. I also heard that it is raining in chennai. The winter has set into Bangalore and Sweden.

Well if all this sounded like a new report, that is how a few people write their blogs.

On the other hand I think "Ramki adopted brother " has turned bloggin into a fine art. He has this awesome manner of describing some of the latest things he's been doing and funnily they make intersting reading. I dunno if he does them all so that he can publish , or its the other way round.

Well what is more remarkable is the sincerety and the consistency with which he publishes. maybe it has a lot to do with his owning a lappie and me still lounging in poverty.

No excuses nevertheless. Guess I have lost any little readership or interest my site would have had.Hmmm...lemme start again. If the workload and pressure become more managable i promise I;ll blog a lot more.

Also damn happy abt my Bannarghatta Road blog, have got enuf Kudos in office, but whats better is people claim to have it on the BB's of other offices too.

If imitation were the best form of flattery, I'm bloody flattered.

Let me put this up for the sake of publishing. Hope I become regular.

2004-10-04T23:25:00.000-07:00

Bannerghatta Road.....

Well it was that time of the night when lonliness is your only companian , and shadows the only followers.It was around two am in the morning.

I was bouncing away merrily on Bannarghatta road ,when some bright lights stopped me. It took me a few minutes to realise that it was not a movie shooting, it took me a few more minutes to convince myself that this was not an alien landing that I was witnessing.

Though there was a modicum of clarity, there was a shade of doubt too. I proceeded to gamely question a well clad man of foreign origin. "Shhh" he cautioned me.

Softly I asked him " What's happening brother". " NASA ..."he whispered , "I am Dr. Morgan fromThe Lunar Exploration programme". Like all of us I was sure I was drunk, or he was!

On watching a few men in spacesuits bumping around I realised he was speaking the truth.On furthur enquiry , he told me , that NASA had tried to create surroundings that would resemble the rocky , crater filled Moon's surface and had failed miserably.This led to a desperate search for test sites on planet earth.

Very few in earth qualified , of Iraq (An exploded Oil Well) , Sri Lanka , and our own Bannarghatta .

Of course we were the lowest cost proposition, with Iraq ruled out as a high risk venture, what macthed their needs best was the irreproducible surface that Bannarghatta offered.

The Mars rover and Endeavour were bouncing away too , in the unplain surface.

Suddenly I spotted the CM standing quietly in the distance. I walked upto him and smiled. He nodded , smiling softly. I looked at him enquiringly " Was this your idea ", spoke my eyes - as i gazed at the dilapidated piece of broken earth in front of me.

"Yes " , he said almost humbly , too modest to acknowledge the enormity of his effort. " So what's in it for us ?" , I probed. " Milllions of dollars , that's what they have promised , once this gets approved as a broken earth site it will be used regularly. I also have plans of breaking up the other roads , which are happening under the guise of flyovers" he confided.

I shuddered at the enormity of the attempt . How all of us mortals , cribbed , raved and ranted every time we came across a broken road. How blind we have all been , eyes shut , we refused to view the big picture.

Every bad road is a million dollar opportunity. I bade quiet farewells to Dr.Morgan and the CM and quietly rode away.

As I reached the BTM flyover and my tyre went flat , I pushed my bike smiling softly ....a million dollars in every bad road i told myself.......what do you think ?

2004-10-02T03:21:00.000-07:00

Ind vs Aus

I was reviewing my blog the other day - Lo Behold! I had written next to nothing about my religion.
Naaay this is not the beginning of a sermon , but it is the dawn of my Ramaadan , the cricket series between India and the Aussies.

The baggy green is my favourite, it is my adopted cricketing fraternity and I owe my allegience to the kangroos.No , dont doubt my patriotism for a minute. I love my country as much or more than you do , but at the same time the love for the sport also drives me to embrace a nation that has Sport as its primary religion and Sportsmen its leading ambassdors. As they strive to achieve perfection driving the mind and the body to dizzying heights , which we contrive to neglect stating the impossible.

The Aussies are indomitable in spirit and achievement. They are the true leaders. To me Steve and Warnie are Apostles of a fading generation. Two men who had the gall to proclaim greatness and then go ahead to achieve it.

What amazes me as I glorify the aussies is my own countrymen. Stricken by an infinite carpet of problems , sheathed by glory , glamour and gold --> they have come out trumps agaianst the most professional of mordern sportsmen.

The Indian team in spite of its present avatar of professionalism , cannot be accused of dedication, professionalism and other similar sounding adjectives. They are idolised and spoilt , embroiled in controversy , fought over , advertised and the works.

Still there is something about the 11 Indians who walk out to play the Aussies. It is probably the knowledge that a victory on this field would crown them Undisputable champions , brings out the best.

It amazes me that Laxman with his array of cross batted shots, has always done something out of the ordinary against the kangaroos. Rahul has batted out of his Skin and Sachin has saved us. The Aussies have over the past decade or so been extremely dependent on two all time greats , McGrath and Warne. In India , Mcgrath can be deadly against the openers and against some batsman in spells but he can be used but sparingly because of the conditions.

The entire result then hinges on the abiltiy of Warne to weave his spell on the batsmen. Batting though a million words ascribe it to Technique and though i am a purist and a firm believer of the long term impact of good technique , has nothing to do with it.

More often than not i have been defied in my views by batsmen of the quality of a Laxman and a Sehwag who's strokes tear the coaching manual to shreds. its more a hand eye thing and more importantly depends on the confidence with which the willow is wielded.

With Warnie, being a leg spinner myself , it is the fear in the minds of the batter , the spilt second of indecision that gets the wicket. It is a subtle art hinging on the fact that a lot more is read into the ball than actually happens , thus beguiling the man at the crease into a false stroke.

How many times have you seen some of the worlds best batsmen fall to a long hop or a full toss off Warnie. ----> The great leg spinner to his credit boasts of control that is unheard of , and is already the substance of legends.

The Indians will have none of it. To them it is a red churry flung at them , the art , the deception , the quality of the man delivering has no effect on them. As long this is the approach , the Indians will go on to retain the Border- Gavasker trophy.

2004-09-11T05:31:00.000-07:00

Smogen and a North Sea cruise..

Its actually a painting. The Swedes call it a fishing village and only a few of them live there during the winter. That is so understandable for its a pity to live in Smogen if you can;'t see.

Well Smogen Havsbad is a technically backward resort. Well if you were from NASA you would have heard of all that they use there a few months ago. Magnetic swipe cards for room keys, tempreture controlled showers, Wi fi and more. What's better is , it comes with a haunting view. I think our dinners and breakfasts overlooking the serene ocean will always remain my best memories of my trip.

As one piled on the corn flakes and a numerous other inviting dishes (half of which i never understood hence didnt try), one tries to rush to a vacant seat overlooking the sea. Then the view takes over.

You think it was like O'Henry's masterpiece( I'm referring to the last leaf..if you had the chance to read it...) hung on the window. You bend down to sip a mug of hot Swedish coffee , and look up suddenly to see if the view has changed. Its still the same. The sea hasnt moved one bit. Everything is in a trance and you want to freeze life that very minute till eternity.

I will skip the business part for this is my blog , its public and I sign a lot of non disclosure docs.....so Fasst forwarding to the North Sea boat ride....

Suddenly a heavy Basket was thrust into my hands...and people walked away like I was the plague..Gosh the Tea basket was heavy. JP looked away and Shiva wanted to check out Sweden on his own. Nils Hakan and Jessica were half way down........hmm i huffed and puffed and somehow....we reached this pretty little thing on water.

Soon we were adrift.....and had a clear description of the surroundings..in an ancient Swedish tongue. Something which some one like Johan could grasp partially with his 50 odd years of living in Sweden.

The North Sea , I guess that's what its called ...but it was rocky....calm and beautiful.It was a scene straight out of a National Geographic documentary ...only difference was that I was on the other side of the screen.

Lovely sea gulls skimmed the water........and suddenly you asked yourself...why didnt I become a sailor.(But then you tell yourself "you can;t watch the latest episode of Friends on the high seas and you know why") still you ask the question anyways....;)

Then the summer villas on either side....., with Daniel entertaining the women with his endless bag of anecdotes ...it was peace on the deck......

More Summer villas later , you spoke about how much they cost and suddenly the wind felt chillier than before.....at 3 million kroners apiece....they were as easy as buying the Empire state building......

The wind was chilly ....and that was the only reason you wanted to go back.......I'm sorry did I tell about when it gets dark in Smogen....how about never...okie I lied there...arnd 9.00pm the skies think of turning Dark and the process is completed around the time you tuck yourself into bed.....

So if you chanced to look outside the window and you were half as forgetful as me...you would wonder if you were waking up or going to bed.......

Neways we finsihed the day...checking out a few garments on REA (that' means Sale...Oh god...you guys dont speak any Swedish??)...Well the REA was more than my ancestral net worth...and you wondered ......if stealing a bank was all that bad??

Then......you wanna read more.....well I'll write tomorrow.....

2004-09-08T22:43:00.000-07:00

Hage Alskar Sveriege

Nirupa and three fluffy pillows

..Actually there was only one of them. I mean the pillows and they kept falling off from the seat in front or so Nirupa thought.The seat in front was occupied by someone who's morbid fear of white pillows stemmed from a miserable childhood ; where his friends and parents threatened to smother his life out with a white pillow.

So imagine his horror when he was presented with the source of his nightmares by an uncharecteristically charitable Nirupa. To make matters worse she did it thrice. "Hi you dropped your pillow she said for the third time , and by now his fears were confounded by these repeated attacks. "I put it down on purpose" he pleaded.

Being charitable was an acquired taste and Nirupa decided to use it while it lasted.So when the Airhostesses at NWA (Northwest AirlineS) shimmied down the aisle she pointed a tenner. Folded like a seasoned BMTC conducter handing out tickets , "feed all the children in the world", she suggested.

Tempting as it was , for in the age of atm cards , cheque books and e-transactions one never saw too much free cash, the Airhostess was swayed for a minute. A quick look around confirmed that the spotlight of society was on her and she directed Nirupa to the Charity bags tucked into the seats.

Thus with a mix of charity and benevolence our flight NW0042 took off from Mumbai airport in the wee hours of the morning of 29th August.

I was given a seat in the middle of most things and while my illusions lead me to believe that I would be served by Cindy Crawford and a giggly Drew Barrymore as they presented in the NWA ads. Well this was not to be. On one side stood "Stone Cold Steve Austin" bulging biceps and all, on the other "Queen Latifa" of Chicago fame.
Well Queen Latifa was serving up myside and with a curt eyebrow she had me drinking Orange squash without so much as a whimper from me.

Wthout much ado we landed at Schipol.........(Amsterdam Ahoy...)

2004-08-23T22:16:00.000-07:00

Baywatch at Beasant Nagar Part 2

Well plenty of such friendly neighbour hood bumps later one smells the salty air that opens into pleasant lanes and blue nothingness.......

A cool evening breeze wafts across and then you see the sea. No,no it aint the cool blue ocean , but a sea of humanity.People everywhere , no parking space crowded sidewalks, vendors selling everything right from your soul , and loud bikes.

Still you decide , nothing can stop you and you wade through the obstacles to the lovely beach beyond.Then you see those cosy couples , and a pang of jealousy engulfs the mind. You determinedly turn back to gaze fiercely onto the beach, but the eyes keep wandering.

You huff and puff..walk back..in disgust...back to the walkway......head down you ponder.......and suddenly ...."Machchi....again BB yaa.."..." Got nothing to do machchi"....U wanna ask..."Then what in the wide world are you doing here......" ...neways you smile and walk away.....

Funny how you meet every one you didnt want to ....in BB......but still you figure a nice place on the parapet and watch the new kids playing cricket ........its been so long since you did tht you think.......

Suddenly you get a call from home and its time to go back.......more .....travel...more dusty pathways...but a visit to BB is never boring...its a nostalgic whirlwind....one that catpults you into memories...that were hidden for long. neways if you still havent been there...gimme a buzz....and we'll go there...promise to get you a Capsicum Bajji.......if you have decent Bat we can also knowck it around a little......Dats it for now...lemme try to get back to work............Wat you doing still reading this...get back.....to work Lazy boness...!!!

"Bay Watch at Beasant Nagar"

2004-08-18T01:45:00.000-07:00

If visions of Pam running in slow mo scantily clad , and diving to save a drowning you........clouds your mind , I suggest you violently shake your head and sip a glass of (bought in the morning) sedimented water.

Bay watch at BB (Beasant Nagar beach) is a mite different from its more popular cousin.

"See u at BB at 5.30 machchi" , you confirm. Meticulously contrive to look good , try various combinations of colours , brands and material. The truth pitifully sticks out.

Feel good that you look better than you usually do, which is not much by any means and kick your bike into action.

The first few minutes are breezy , you hadnt reached the main road. Suddenly a cacophony of noises fly at you like tough questions in a mid term exam , and you are stunned. As you try to look away, Pallavan spews a few kilograms of unburnt diesel into your face , Splutter , cough , Swear , and then bike revs to chase baddy bus driver.

You catch up and overtake Pallavan on the right , take a cursory look at the driver , he makes Yokozuna look malnourished and has a mean air about him. He looks at you, and knows fully well what he has done. You dont give up , scream a few expletives , so that the girl waiting in the bus stand looks up at you....and slip away into the traffic.

Driver leans out , stops the bus and parades your ancestery in minute detail. You speed away in ignorance , ignorance is bliss. Soon you encounter more than a few traffic signals , where you arrive just when the lights turn red , and uncle (Constabulary fondly remembered) strategically positioned under the tree , eyes you hungrily.

You give uncle a knowing glance and he recognises you as an old hand , and you brake like the good citizen that you are , and peer into every car nearby , to see if your appearance has improved drastically in past few minutes. Bored you scout the traffic for a pretty face.

There's one in the kinteic next to you and she's as disinterested in you as the Indian TV audience in fencing. Suddenly the lights go green and you speed away, leaving another minor aberration behind you.

More pollution later the lovely Theosophical society lies in front of you , a verdant grove amidst a parched city. When you think of throttling you are rudely jolted by the Himalayas. Sorry a mis-shapen hump of himalayan proportions - in the municipality's parlance - "Speed Breakers".

Aaah Speed breakers-- pardon the digreesion ,like a long lost friend they evoke expressions of sorts within me. Well they Speed Breakers (to the international reader SB is a Desi contraption designed to slow you down in your attempt to reach your destination, innovative method of disposing extra Tar in a road laying excercise) come in many shapes and sizes.

No one knows why they were designed , but highly placed sources in the home ministry confided that they are a key ingridient in the country's Population reduction plan. What is clear though is that they were all designed to remind you that pain was still a part of everyday life. If you got lucky you could have one to commomerate your 14th Birthday. A friendly employee of the PWD could sanction one in front of your house , so that passing vehicles can slow down as a mark of respect to your existance.

This suddenly caught the imagination of plenty and soon there were as many speed breakers in a street as houses. Then some of the younger occupants felt left out so there were more than one speed breaker per house , and if houses on both sides of the road didnt see eye to eye , they decide to separate their bumps.The economically blessed ones get to paint their bumps with yellow or white depending on their state of mind.

Raghu my friend has one that is so high that more than a few passing vehicles assumed that the road was blocked , "a Bump as high as your ego" is his motto.

Well plenty of such friendly neighbour hood bumps later one smells the salty air that opens into pleasant lanes and blue nothingness.

(To be Continued.......)

2004-08-13T05:07:00.000-07:00

"The Restaurant at the end of the Universe"

Lemme begin with apologies to Douglas Adams , for having infringed his intellectual property.Well in any case you dont get any Pan galactic Gargle blasters " in my restaurant. Its called an obnoxious "Uphara Sagar".

Do i hear a snigger, you guys dunno half the story. Well its this awesome...stand up , serve yourself and eat as much as you want types of places. Well the best is still to come...the bill wont cross 50 Indian rupees....and that is if you had stuffed yourself for so much that you can't eat for the rest of the week , which in any case will make it a huge saving.

If you guys thought this wasnt one of the places where you can hang out and check out pretty women, your mistaken again, for it has a coffee day diagonally opposite, so while the glass veil serves two purposes , you use the property of transparency to gaze away to glory.

In any case , US (Uphara Sagar) has a menu that is as common as sand on a beach , or black marketeers on the opening day of Rajni's new flick. US's killer punch is its proximity to the office , walkable. The staff who work there are actually damn nice people , but I guess they also have a part time job with the UN. This causes them to carry most of the world's worries on their head - like Will people in Sudan get enough food, would Najaf be attacked and so on, this might be the reason they act a little rude and unfriendly.

If they fling their plate on your face it could just be because they were worried that the delay in delivering the plate slowly to you might kill you , like one of their brothers in Khartoum.

The guy at the counter is a "Jolly nice guy". He's just terribbly hard of hearing.

I screamed myself hoarse and he regarded me as irrelevant. It struck me soon that temple bells dont make sense in space, and I scribbled my order on a piece of paper.This struck him as innovative and a few hours later my order was approved.

Thus a series of organic inputs common name ( Masala Dosa) were delivered at high temperature.Often i wonder if the steel spoons are placed on our dishes to see if they melt, if they dont then it must be palatable.

In any case if you were wondering why I tittled my blog so.....it was because...if you made a list of Restaurants you wanted to eat in...this would be the One at the end of the universe.

2004-08-09T20:57:00.000-07:00

Google Gangadhar

Its amazing the number of ways in which technology touches our lives.My girlfriend's mother once sent me an sms saying " Please dont message or talk to my daughter". Then there was this occasion when another terrified mother sent me a gmail invite ...on the condition that i severe all contact with her pretty girl. Considering the paucity of such invites and thinkin of the $60 the invite could fetch me on e-Bay ...i decided to accept.....with a mental to note to rekindle affections...once the $60 had been spent.

While narrating these stories to my friend....he smiled...one of those knowing ones.......when i pried deeper....he said " He had named his son Google Gangadhar".

"You cant loose him ever" he joked...u can always find him on google. A search for the same came up with over 1090 results.I wondered..if the world was coming to a close......

Neways google ganga is nearly eight years old now. They call him GoGa...reminescent of a certain brazilian tennis..whiz.....

Whenever the teacher said no googling on the homework assignments...GoGa....had fun in the evening ....and when mama used to ask...he said...no google on this ...is what she said maa......

there were quite a few benefits....that came outta his name.....the women thought he was cute...and there were a few geeks who were always around the kid.....asking him questions like " Why give up inktomi" , and whether sequential referencing was still used......Goga giggled away......

A few start up firms .....wanted to use him as their brand ambassdor.....Tech kid...and similar sounding adjectives were showered on him...for no fault of his..........neways ....GoGa...has already started expressing his desire to paint......much to the consternation of my friend......who by the way is called...Microsoft Madan.....:)

2004-08-06T01:49:00.000-07:00

"Dude Where's my Car"

As i read more and more blogs.....i can only sit back and enjoy the awesome strength of people's thoughts and the widely prevalant sense of humor. Tongue in cheek comments i guess that's what makes our lives.....

Ne ways if you thought i was bloggin to tell u all tht u already knew ur wrong.....here's what i think of bloggin....if its going to be a diary then why let others read it........if its ur opinion then why tell me what u had for breakfast....okie cynicism apart....it is a great medium for sure....i'm trying desperately to make a good samaritan out of myself....like say the nice things about people...like how does my Pukie .."yuckie lookin red skirt look.." i swallow my retch and roll my eyes and with all the appropriate emotions bring out an awesome dress.....and go on to say how it is the most desirous of all creations on planet earth...... the good thing now tho is tht Dinesh Kartik is in....and that does deserve more than a few words.......havent seen much of this lad....but after Parthiv's performaces i guess some time away from the middle will do him good......he's got to deliver......cliched but true...... As i age " which surprisingly seems to be happening faster mentally than physically" i can see through cliche's..........that the best thing about them is that they are hardly cliched.....

more time....i have suddenly become this serious human...and i'm petrified at having my sense of humor...i can laugh at you anytime though...but ....its the paranoia......tht's catching up.......okie if you are reading this blog chances are you may not come back....one for i'm not too disciplined in my posts...and i dont write with purpose.....mostly thought streams...and unplanned gushes......but if u catch the mood...i guess it might start making sense.... okie am rushing for a meeting....will come back and blog more...... as i make this a habit...promise u guys...i will fight it out for readership.......but as long as i keep writing thought streams..there'sllbe only two guys who read this..and both of em will be me!!!