Random droppings!

2010-08-28T09:22:00.000+05:30

This is the summaryThis is the rest of the post

It is what it ees...

2008-06-05T21:02:00.005+05:30

Ya, Yeah. You there. Yes, that's you, I am calling out. I know what you're thinking...

Yeah, Yeah. You there. Yes, that’s you, I am calling out. I know what you’re thinking…
“I had seen this blog a zillion years ago, in the quadrajurassico (??) era, when it was called something like “caniwrite.blogspot.com” . Sounding all humble and nice with the title, while still refreshing the page every 2 minutes to check for comments, this guy had last written about going to Japan, a Sumo wrestler, Joey Tribbiani and some mindless drivel (as always). And he now thinks that he can make a dramatic entry again with just a snazzy looking theme (which is not his, by the way, thank you very much!!) and a rather stupid title - ‘Do you know what it ees?’ Do I know what it is - Hell, does he know what it ees!!? I mean - where in that Sumo’s name had he gone and what makes him think I would again start reading this mish-mash of a blog that is! Oh, by the way, it has become http://whatitees.com - My, my, what some extra money, Japanese food, and a rather empty head can do! “

Well. Talk about being self-demeaning - this feels like I just bent my foot backwards and kicked myself in the ass over and over again.

Anyways, without sounding overtly apologetic and dramatic about it , I would like to express my sincerest apologies to the few dedicated readers I was privileged to have who, fortunately for me, enjoyed reading my posts before. And even their exhortations to get me back at writing did not do much. Well, the reason for being MIB (Missing In Blog - Thanks, I just made it up) was owing to, amongst a host of other things, a rather busy head and some serious lack of writing spirit.

Anyways, since the time I mentioned about my trip to Japan (and of course, my Sumi), a lot of water has passed under the bridge - yes, incessant and rather unpredictable rains even here in Japan. Thanks to the spirit of “Documentation” which my work here has imbibed in me, I am rather inclined to use the “ordered list” which WordPress has provided. So, here goes:

1. I know how the remote for the AC and all things having Japanese inscriptions on it work. Talk about the effects of smsing - Back home in India if you haven’t sent 10 smses in a span of 10 minutes, chances are you’d never be able to operate the AC in your Japanese room when it is freezing at -6C outside.

2. I now know the importance of hands, especially in places such as Japan. Oh ho, you perverts, do not get me wrong there. When you want to know where you can find washing powder in the large grocery mall near your apartments, and the mixed “JapEng” dialect you’re speaking (washing powdero, washingo, and so ono, so fortho) does not seem to make any headway, it pays to point your shirt to him (ahem..without getting him suspicious of your intentions, i.e) and then show him how the internals of the washing machine works - and finally ending the encore with that beam on your face symbolizing the whitening effects of the powder, you so desperately want now. Well, 8 out of 10 times, you get the powdero even while you are rotating the blades of your imaginary machine. Alternately, you could also twirl around, like the girl in the Nirma ad and maybe sing the ad jingle too - however, one would need to do some research on the Japanese version of the Ad.

3. MoonMoonSen, RimaSen or SushmitaSen will not be a working alternative for “Sumi masen” if you need to say “excuse me” or “sorry”.

4. Similar to how “andi” and “lu” is so important to people such as moi from the Gult-land (cheppandi, cheyandi, antylu, tiffinlu, so forthulu), “Masu” is pretty significant on similar lines to the Japanese - Arigato Gozaimasu, Ohayo Gozaimasu, Owarimasu, etc.

5. I have realized that eating a pizza here can itself be such a big reason for celebration - that is because, when you’ve had a marathon of a conversation on your cell phone for well over 30 minutes, where all the information you provided in broken English and insignificant Japanese, and which would normally be asked during a routine call to Pizza Hut have been encountered by long pauses, a lot of other questions, some which you would have felt was a repetition of the old ones and a lot of “Sumi masens” being transacted over the NTT Do Co Mo network, you finally see and smell the Yasai (Vegan) Pizza being delivered by the smiling delivery guy in less than 30 minutes, you know it is more than just that - it is a piping hot, pan-crusted, refreshingly delicious symbol of the work you put in to order one!!

6. E-books.com, Stumbleupon.com, isohunt.com, downloadable movie sites, idesitv.com, and so on - in a place where having access to English/Hindi and other regional channels on TV is a sign of you either settling here for good or having been here for some years now and had the requisite moolah for it, these sites and a few others gradually become your close friends. You suddenly realize the importance of the “call” feature on G talk, how justvoip.com is less expensive than the calling card you just used, and how excitinglives.com was the perfect way to shower somebody with gifts while you were still miles apart.

7. Walking and cycling is an integral part of your daily life here - and god knows, I am thankful for that. But just for kicks, a “Kya Aap Paanchvi Paas se Tez” ho question for you - what would you do if you were caught parking your car or 2-wheeler under the No Parking sign in any of the metros in India? A typical answer would be - slip in a 50 bucks, and you’d live to park it for another day, in more favorable conditions.

But here, and that too for your cycle - No sir. You get a pink slip - not once, but thrice - No, it is not the proverbial metaphor for getting fired - but it is actually a piece of paper, pink in color, with the day and date written in pen, and harmlessly stapled on the handle of your beloved cycle. It also has a map printed on it, but that’s a matter we shall conveniently avoid. Now, you might have parked it on the pavement and gone in to a store for a couple of minutes, but when you come out, chances are you would end up scratching your head over the rather innocuous presence of that slip. If the scratching did any help, you would not repeat that mistake of parking your cycle anywhere you wish, and probably look for a line of cycles to park it in, even if it meant pedaling for a couple of blocks away. But if all that you did was scratch, then chances are that with the third slip, you would not even know when your beloved 2-wheeler got picked up from right under your nose.

8. Travelling and a newly found hobby - Photography. Hiroshima, Kyoto, Osaka - with some money, a nice camera, a good group and most importantly, with some holidays to spare, these would no longer be names to remember off your history books. These and many more - Beautiful places. A must visit, if you ever set foot in this land.

9. “When the going gets tough, the tough get going start cooking.” You might say that I have taken this adage to another level, but it would not be wrong to say so. Give me the basic ingredients, get your own plate and fork, and I shall whip you up a dinner, befitting a bachelor’s status and his abilities in wielding a spatula.

10. Last, but most importantly - some new relationships formed. One of them - I am an Uncle. Of course, I became an uncle way back in Pune, when some kids in the apartments called me that, and all I did was frown at them, and look in the mirror for the receding line that was. Well, I would not mind that now…:-)..

An aside: If you noticed, I put down 10 points - I have been here for 10 months now. Pretty Da Vinci-ian isn’t it? Anyways, I would soon be heading back for India, hopefully with the kind graces of my managers. Till then, I hope to be back here as often as I possibly can, and I’d sure hope to see you as well.

Psst! I am coming back in 2 minutes - refresh, refresh!!

Sumo and my Sumi...

2007-08-07T10:44:00.001+05:30

Oui...

Shun Sanjo

[1]

I will be going to Japan soon.
If Joey Tribbiani were around me now, he would probably have asked me, "the country?".

Speaking of whom, did you know, that while in his initial acting days, when he did commercials, he was able to buy a house, a car, a motorcycle and a wardrobe full of clothes just by doing an ad for Heinz Ketchup! Man, is that something or is it something??[2]

Well, anyways. My company thinks that I am unmarried enough to have a plate of noodles and sushi along with Ketchup for breakfast, lunch, dinner and any other time in between, without that "oh-i-wish-i-had-someone-who-could-make-idli sambhar-here" look on my face, and finds me fit enough to handle the Japanese clients there. Of course, there they just call them clients.

However, when I refer to the word "fit", it's not to imply "physically fit", that I am going to take on the mighty Sumo wrestlers there. That would be a virtual Kamikaze. I would rather escape on a Sumo if I ever get into a tiff with them. And by that, I mean the Tata Sumo vehicle, not on the wrestler's back. Sumojho?

By the way, me thinks that's a good tactic to fight them, especially for people who have non-Sumo like characteristics. As soon as he comes towards me, I being the more nimble-footed one, can easily get behind him, use the monstrosity of the undie as a foothold and climb on to his back, without giving him a moment's chance to realise what hit him! Brilliant!!

*Pause for effect - some ecstatic moments of self-pat-backing, chest-widening and some devilish laughter*

What? Did the Dharam Paaji devotee just say "agar mard hai to peechhe se vaar mat kar"[3]?
well, please try explaining that to the Sumo Paaji. I shall have a sushi and get back.
Everything is fair in love and vaar, I say!!
I am a little wheatish, by the way. Damn! Whoever made that "fair and handsome" ad needs to be sued!!

Anyways, as I was gloating in my newly-found combat abilities, and thinking out other strategies of how to be a Sumo-challenger, I decided I should get to know a little more about my opponent. You see, I am a big fan of Chinese sayings (along with Hakka Noodles) and one of them reads on similar lines that if you know your enemy, then you can win a thousand battles.

Of course, the presumption is that you will be fighting with the same enemy thousand times.
But, I didn't have any such noble intentions. It was going to be that one killer blow. That one moment of truth- either him or his undie!! So, I rolled up my sleeves, spat on my palms, rubbed them and went on to wikipedia with a vengeance.

I am generally a calm, easy-going person, but that day my mother noticed the difference too, as I was on my laptop. She looked at me, and said what's wrong with my eyes. I just looked at her, and let the moment pass. I was obsessed at that point. I had a heat in my eyes which even she felt.

She asked me," What's wrong with your eyes? Why are they so red?"

I told her in the deepest baritone I could muster, "amma, go away. You wont understand this. You cannot see what I can."

Nonchalantly, she passed me and drew the curtains apart, and said, "Of course, I cannot see. And neither can you. Its so dark and you're face is so close to the screen. You'll get blind someday! This boy will never learn!"

And went away, muttering something about how stupid some software engineers can be. Catching hold of whatever pride I had left, I tried to reply, about software engineers, the Matrix and India's economy, or something to that effect, but she was already out of hearing range.

Anyways, I didn't let this affect me. I washed my eyes with water, felt a little better and got down to work. I knew I was not going to get bogged down by such jolts. I knew I had a gut feeling about this. And no, I was not hungry.

As I got back with rejuvenated energy, I came across something which was the proverbial bolt from the blue.

It was just a word, but it was blue in colour[4].

But it sent shivers down my spine. I looked at the curtains. They were drawn out, and there was enough light in the room. But all I could see was darkness! My mother was again saying something, but all I heard was a dull drone in my ears. I could see myself drifting away and looking down on me. How could this happen? Was this destined to be this way? Why had I missed the signs? How could I be so blind? My mind was racing away beyond my control through flashes of light, trying to decipher some rational in all this. Could it be true after all?

Now, I knew why I was not suprised when I heard that I was being sent onsite to Japan. It was not because I was thought to be of the correct profile, though to the rational mind, it would seem so. I now knew, why I felt that tingle in my mouth, whenever I heard Sushi, HaraKiri, Karoshi, Bukkake, and Sake. Ah! The ways of the universe and beyond! It works on something far more puzzling than rational and logic.

I took a look at the word again - "rikishi". Years of solving crossword puzzles had trained my mind to look beyond the obvious. I could easily look at the alphabets come out and hit right between my eyes.
rikishi
My name. It was right there. I was afterall, a Sumo wrestler in my previous birth.
And I was being sent back to where I came from to look for my Sumi[5].

*Footlose notes*

[1] Don't worry, I have not turned into a Gorkha calling out to Sanju. Thats my Japanese name I found here.

[2] I was referring to the ketchup there. And I was tempted to not let go of an opportunity to use Al Pacino's famous dialogue from his classic 1995 movie "Heat", where he shared screen space with Robert De Niro.

[3] Rough translation in English means - If you are man, do not attack from behind.

[4] It's blue because a hyperlink shows in Blue. What else?

[5] You dirty minds! I was referring to my Japanese girlfriend whose name could be Sumi! Bleddy!

I think, therefore I am...

2007-07-10T13:34:00.000+05:30

...uselessly thoughtful.

P.S : A recent conversation with a family member gave me the tag....I need to think again.

The Mansion..

2007-06-15T14:58:00.000+05:30

A string of shops - all kinds.
A DVD rental. A hair saloon. A smattering of a few others - an automobile spares shop, a medical hall, the only big grocery "supermarket" in the area, 2/3 punjabi dhabas, a nice south Indian eatery, and more of the same on a crowded stretch of what the junta called the main road.

A detour off that, into one of the streets, a left at the dead end, a stretch of about 150 meters, which is christened the "Digestion Road", and you would reach The Mansion.

Please do not get misled by the name. The current inhabitants are not the ones you would normally associate with the Royalty. In fact, the closest they came to that was the Royal Enfield, which was quite conspicuous by its presence. It used to park itself a few yards away from the Mansion. It was the local carpenter's.

The Mansion keepers : The "Homies" - they are called. Nope, do not look for a dictionary.

I say current inhabitants, because I was also once a part of the royal ensemble; during a period, which thankfully, did not have too many ups and downs. Primarily because this was on the ground floor. But it did have a lot of lefts, lot of rights, a hell lot of wrongs, and a lot of fun!

The Mansion is a 2 BHK - 2 Bedroom, Hall and Kitchen. Although, this recent video may convince you to argue with me that there is nothing left of what you normally call a Kitchen.

There was a time, when this very place has seen the likes of Khichdi with papad and beer, wonderful french toasts for breakfast, and pure South Indian lunches (Rasam, Sambhar, curd, the works). It has also turned into a war zone, when one of the erstwhile Homies, a certain spectacle-clad dude, from Gult-Land, decided to give a shot at cooking. And when he was in there....we prayed. For our safety. And sometimes, for his. And more often than not, when he emerged out of the smoke, the victorious smile used to say it all. Sunday lunches were action-packed, you see.

However, of late, I have learnt that,now it can be called a Kitchen - thanks to the concerted efforts of the Homies to give it a semblance of respectability. They do not stack 'em up there along with the pressure cooker and the pickle bottle. And the basin has regained its earlier position. Brushing and shaving.

Enter the 2 bedrooms - one of which housed 3 custom made folding beds. And the other, the dude from Gult-Land. When we shifted into the Mansion, we did not want to sleep on the floor. It was an insult to our royal blood. We bought 4 very expensive folding beds, brought our engineering minds together with an IISc friend of ours' (who spent more time here than in his lab) and rented the services of a particularly efficient carpenter who also believed in the concept of re-engineering. Our 4 years of torture(read:Engineering) bore fruit when we saw the final product - wooden planks fixed under the beds - they dont bend, they dont buckle. Brilliant.

So they stayed on. Apart from the occasional creaks, they never complained. Never cringed. They've seen every bit of us (literally and figuratively). And a lot of violence as well. They say (who??) that a pen is mightier than a sword. In this case, one of the more calmer Homies used a broomstick and a brush(??) to prove this saying to us. In his case, the broomstick was indeed mightier than...a pillow. Inspiring.

And no. The Royal Enfield was not this carpenter's. He came on a Hero Cycle.

The Hall - it would actually be one, if not for the commanding presence of a very "large" person, who tends to think that by sleeping only in his low-waist jeans (definition of "low" is something you would want to avoid here), which saw a washing machine eons ago, he can scare away the landlord who, strangely, comes on Saturday mornings to take the rent. Now, the landlord is this old man, lovingly called "Taatha". For his age, he should have known, that the only thing which can totter more than him on a Saturday morning, at 7'o'clock, is a young bachelor with a hangover, brought upon by the blessings of the UB group and other such charitable companies.

It also contains some comfortable couches, which were (and I guess, still are) used effectively to lend our hospitality services to the really blessed ones - high and drunk, and who would knock on the cupboard to enter The Mansion. Recent news have reported that a key, some coins, wax matches, and a 5-star were found in the deep crevices between the cushions of the couch. True to tradition, The Mansion holds lot of secrets.

I have seen a lot of exciting days in The Mansion:

Monday highs (Because there was a power cut from 9 pm onwards),
Tuesday highs (Because the weather was beautiful),
Wednesday highs (Because my IISc friend had finished his test and was happy it was over),
Thursday highs (Because one of our college juniors was in town and needed a night's stay),
Friday highs (Because it is a Friday)
Saturday highs (Need i say)
Sunday Highs (-ditto)

Well, it would take almost an year again to describe the experience that The Mansion is. And needless to say, the credit goes to the Homies. A band of egoless, fun-loving, wonderful human beings who loved everything from keeping the Mansion like a pig sty to working for 5 hours at a stretch washing and scrubbing it clean.

Here they are, in no particular order: (The original inhabitants and the ones that graced the Mansion occasionally - 6 days a week, i.e):

Ozz/Ozzy - a.k.a adarsh
Sam/Sammy/Samba - a.k.a samyam
Chaddi - a.k.a vadhi
Goti - a.k.a Gautham
Tushy - a.k.a Tushar
Tommy/Tomba - a.k.a Thomas
Raj - a.k.a Raj
Sand/Sandy - a.k.a Sandeep
Suze/Suzy - a.k.a Sushant
Nitin - a.k.a Nitin sir

This post was to just tell them - You guys rock!!

P.S : I may have missed a few others. I apologise for the loss of memory.

The earth is flat....

2007-06-01T12:02:00.000+05:30

...cause I am living on the edge.

Shootout of "Brainwala"!!

2007-05-28T23:45:00.000+05:30

In case you're wondering, no, Brainwala is not a long-lost brother from the Kumbh Mela to the other more famous holders of the "wala" part of the surname. Nope, I was not talking about Doodhwala or Paperwala either. They are not surnames you stupid.

I was talking about Daruwala (The most famous being Bejan Daruwala) and Baltiwala (I distinctly remember I have seen that surname somewhere).

Which brings me to a joke I just made up -
What would happen if a Daruwala guy were to marry a Baltiwala girl?

A number of things. For e.g:
1.The girl's side family would shed bucketful of tears when she's leaving her home.
2.The guy's friends would give him a bachelor's party where they would have daru in baltis.
3.The guy's family and all his relatives would get free buckets as marriage gifts. Dowry buckets they would be called.
4. Nobody would ever kick the bucket. Because its free, and it contains daru.

If you have other more innovative answers, please feel free to comment at my blog. i.e, if you manage to reach the end.
(For the non-hindi speaking peoples, The Daru = Alcohol and The Balti = Bucket)

Anyways, what I had started to blog out, was about a certain movie called "Shootout at Lokhandwala", released last Friday, based on a famous shoot-out which occurred in Mumbai in the 90s and which killed 5 well-known gangsters of the Dawood gang. It was supposedly a bloody gun-battle which, though gave the Mumbai Police a much needed impetus to their fight against the under-world, but also gave them a lot of flak for their actions. An exciting premise isn't it?

And this is exactly why I decided to watch this movie. A quick call to one of my office friends - one of those I seem to make in a jiffy...the kinds who's eyes twinkle, tongues roll up and let out a knowing smile at the sight and sound of anything resembling alcohol. Please don't get me wrong. This happens only on Fridays and Saturdays. My mother is staying with me here. Dry days have become the norm for me.

Anyways, so we went for the last show, thinking that watching it late night would provide a fitting context for such a dark sub-plot. However, I must add, the multiplex was quite colorful, which almost distracted us from concentrating on the mood of the film. Keeping our focus, we went inside. In fact, we weren't even talking to each other. Oh! No wait, we were on our cell phones talking. I was telling my mother I would be late. And he was talking to his wife.

So, anyways, without further ado, beating around the bush and any such further idiotic idioms aimed only at confusing the literate, let me get to the point - I still do not remember where I saw the Baltiwala surname!!

Oops!! Sorry, that was not it. Here it goes:

"Shootout at Lokhandwala" is a movie which had a powerful plot to back it up; a plot which has seen the likes of Satya, Company, and Sarkar. But it starts and ends in a painful mish-mash of scenes and characters which seem to be embroiled in the director's attempt to show too many sides to a simple premise - that of 5 gangsters being shot in a daring encounter by 3 brave officers of the Mumbai Police.

It starts with compelling images of thousands of bullets, ammunition and blood lying on the ground, being swept with a broomstick at the, now upmarket, Lokhandwala Complex, Andheri and with Dia Mirza doing a report, post the killing. Following which we are taken to an interrogation of the 3 officers (Sanjay Dutt, Suniel Shetty and Arbaaz Khan) by a senior lawyer, played by Amitabh Bachchan.

And this interrgation takes us to the story of the 5 gangster-characters, 3 of whom played by TV actors, while the other 2 - Vivek Oberoi and (hear, hear) Tushar Kapoor.

Now, we all know what Vivek Oberoi can do with a gangster's role. And here, he almost lives upto it, except that he overdoes it. Maya Dolas, his character, was supposedly one who used to leverage people's fear of the underworld for the crimes he committed. Hence, Vivek had to "taak Maya, waak Maya, eat Maya and drink Maya". And he does all that, and too much of it.

But I did not mind it, because a character like Maya Dolas would not be known to us, unless:

1. One is in the underworld, which none of us are.
(The only word which we would have used as frequently and which sounds like underworld would be underwear. But we'll leave that aside. The word, i.e)...or
2. One is a close relative or friend to Maya Dolas, which again points us to point no 1....or
3. One was involved in the shoot-out then, which could mean either we needed to be in the police or, again point no 1. OR
4. One is watching this movie and gets to know about Maya Dolas.

Hence, Q.E.D - Vivek Oberoi does whatever he could, to bring us this character. Apparently, in an interview, he said that he had done a lot of research for this role. Now, if only he had acted as less as he did his research, maybe things would have been better.

But what is beyond a sane mind's comprehension, is the fact that Tushar Kapoor plays a supposedly psychotic shooter, right hand man to Maya Dolas and obsessively in love with a bar dancer!!!

I do not know much about cinema, but I can say with absolutely no doubt, that just by dressing up somebody in dirty jeans, a gun visibly tucked away at the back, a black see-through baniyan, an open-buttoned shirt, a french-cut beard and an opening shot where he smashes up a guy's hand because he touches the love of his life, one cannot turn a romantic hero, into a dreaded Mumbai gangster!!
C,mon man! This is the same hero who ran from one high-rise to another looking for his babe, and then later goes into a jungle to croon "Mujhe kuch Kehnaa hai"!!

The only people who went psychotic were me and a lot of others in the theater when we saw him in a scene, supposedly laughing like a psycho at another man being thrown off a building!! I could have jumped out of the theater for chrissake!!

Anyways. Even if all this were bearable, how can a movie, based on a true shooting incident even dare to think that their leading gangsters would dance in sync to a daru song? Corny aint it?
Not only to a daru song, but all the other songs which were shot at a dance bar. Maybe it was to depict that these guys used to frequent such places and indulged in all vices with absolutely no regret or a sense of morality. But of all things, sync dancing to show this?

Indian Cinema seems to find novel ways to entertain its audiences.

And amidst all this chaos, we have other wonderfully crafted scenes and characters:
1. A police officer, Arbaaz Khan, speaking impeccable English and Hindi and constantly piques his partner Suniel Shetty whenever he mouths some expletives. It provided some forceful funny moments, but now, we were watching a real-life incident of a shoot-out, weren't we?

2. One of the gangsters starts seeing ghosts of the family he had erroneously killed once. This he starts seeing as we reach the climax and the shoot-out almost begins. Premonition was it? Hmm...

3. The police and the gangsters are firing each other with all kinds of ammunition, including rocket launchers. Yet, the 5 guys take out the time to call their respective families and lovers, show emotion and fire back at the police in rage!!

Maybe it was to show that these gangsters were after all human. Now, we all know that they certainly did not land from outer space. They were human beings and gangsters.
So whats the need for such melodrama?
A bigger question - with all the firing and blasts, phone lines were still working...HOW IT IS I SAY?

Well, I could go on like this. And the more I think about it, the more saddened I feel about the 3 brave officers who risked their lives to kill the gangsters. Now, I shall leave the debate of human rights, etc to people who can speak on it. I shall stick to what I can talk on.

When one makes a movie on controversial incidents involving such brave people, and who are still alive, doesn't it behoove the film-makers to do their homework better and put in a more concerted effort at maintaining reality as close to what it was? I think it does.

And this was the only conclusion my friend and I could come to, as we came out to a cool Pune night for a drive back.

The only shoot-out that happened for real that evening was of my brain. Which lay splattered amidst the 150 Rs I paid for this mindless mayhem.

And I can see one more. Yours'. On this blogpage.

Yeh kya pakarela hai bhai...Khopche mein leke doon kya isko kaan ke niche...

Or Bata..

2006-12-18T16:26:00.000+05:30

...no, I was not comparing shoe brands. I was referring to the most commonly used words in a virtual conversation, be it on instant messenger chats, over the phone, or nowadays, even on Orkut.

By the way, looking at how people use the Orkut scrapbook as a virtual chat room, Google has integrated Gtalk with it. I always thought Orkut was a great tool for social networking, but now its probably changed skin to social "chatworking"!

Anyways,coming to the point at hand, have you ever faced a situation when you were talking over the phone / chatting with somebody, you do not have much to say, the person at the other end too does not have much to talk about, and you keep exchanging pleasantries in the form of these 2 words - "Aur Bataa" ?

I have. Many times. Well, I am not much of a psycho-analyst in the field of social behaviour as far as the 2 sexes are concerned, but I guess it happens with most people who generally cannot do normal talk. I could have used the non-political phrase - small talk, but being the single gentleman I am, I do not want to offend the fairer sex. I cannot bear to be unfair to them.

However, I do not wish to come across as an MCP as well and will, with all fairness to the fairer sex, say that we men also indulge in small talk and gossip. But then, its a statistic that the average woman talks about 20,000 words daily, while a man only 7,000.
Now, you can do the calculations, but how much can one gossip in only 7,000 words?
On the other hand, does it mean that man is not the average human being..?...hmm...

Anyways, I have digressed again. Well, it so happened that at one of our tea sessions in the office, my friend and I were talking about this "chat characteristic", and how difficult it can be to continue a conversation, especially when its not a close buddy of yours'.

Wouldn't you feel like the lowest parasitic scum of the earth, when after an hour's talk, which would (depending upon the gender of the person involved) typically range from getting to know each other's diurnal activities and scheduled nocturnal activities, to analysing the latest fall-out of the Hrithik-Ash kissing scene, to discussing career, work and marriage plans, to talking about the latest gadget, to discussing the vital 'statuses' of the girl/guy-next-cubicle, to bitching about your manager, to deciding about the next booze session and so on, the person at the other end, without a care for human emotions, nonchalantly asks "Aur bataa" ??!!

It certainly gets me a little tensed, irritatingly amused, and totally bored (Yes! all 3)!! There could be quite a few reasons, the more prominent ones being:

I would have exhausted all that I wanted to say. But since the onus to continue the conversation is on me, I need to make use of whatever is left of my brains.
The person at the other end does not really care what I say as long as he/she can put the nail-polish properly or ogle at Pamela Anderson do her stuff on Baywatch!
The person does not really want to talk to me, but wants to carry on for courtesy reasons. However, at the first hint, such as "nothing much yaar", you would hear a quick "bye" and a click.
The person REALLY wants to know everything about whats happening in my life. Which augurs well if the other person is of the fairer one . However, you can never really takpoint no. 2 and 3 out of the equation.

Of course, to make your life worse, "aur bataa" has different variants which can wreak havoc in these typical shapes and sizes.

Aur bol...
Aur bolo...
Kuchh Khaas..?
What else man..
And what else...
Aur..?
Aur batao...

Till date I have not been able to find a counter-strike which can throw the proverbial ball on to the other side of the court. It's usually been a prolonged silence coupled with a blank look, or a delay in reply inviting a "Buzz!!" followed by a lame line " oh sorry, got disconnected.." or the slightly encouraging "aahh...well...".

But I was able to counter this once. I replied "Tu bataa yaar" with gusto, thinking that it would atleast put off the other person and would end the talk. The proverbial ball came at a speed which left me reeling! She replied " arre yaar, we've been talking for the past one hour, I have told you everything and I cant talk anymore! Chal bye!" Click.

Justifying my name..

2006-12-14T12:22:00.000+05:30

Ok, I admit. I read the sun-sign forecasts in the morning newspaper, but thats one of the many things I read when I am, in what I call the state of "extreme happiness tending to nirvana" (commonly referred to, by you common people, as "the loo").

I normally don't believe in Tarot cards, but could not resist from taking this test.
By the way, I found it quite eerie that the Tarot card coincided with the meaning of my name. I think I am an alien after all!!

Click here to find out what card you are.

You are The Hermit

Prudence, Caution, Deliberation.

The Hermit points to all things hidden, such as knowledge and inspiration,hidden enemies. The illumination is from within, and retirement from participation in current events.

The Hermit is a card of introspection, analysis and, well, virginity. You do not desire to socialize; the card indicates, instead, a desire for peace and solitude. You prefer to take the time to think, organize, ruminate, take stock. There may be feelings of frustration and discontent but these feelings eventually lead to enlightenment, illumination, clarity.

The Hermit represents a wise, inspirational person, friend, teacher, therapist. This a person who can shine a light on things that were previously mysterious and confusing.

I had a dream...

2006-12-08T09:40:00.000+05:30

...and then I fell asleep...

I think...

2006-12-05T09:38:00.000+05:30

...therefore I am.....confused!

A straight drive..

2006-11-23T09:41:00.000+05:30

Call me a cynic, an anti-feminist, a prude, or whatever you choose to, but I firmly believe that spaghetti straps, TV actors and tarot cards will never replace crisp, analytical and incisive commentary.

Lot of water has passed under the bridge, debates taken place, and lot of theories claiming that it is good for the upbringing of women's cricket in India. True, I am all for it. We can always add to the cliche - Cricket is a "Ladies' and Gentlemen's game"!!

But I think its time they understood that we no longer like to see TV/wannabe film actors/actresses jumping on their seat, wanting to ask (for the tenth time in the same match) about the dew factor, and then proclaiming that they know quite a bit about cricket!! Let the Diana Eduljees say it, and we shall believe it!

Though the first ODI between India and South Africa was drizzle-washed,and the second was a "Kallistrophe", it was heartening to see the good old ESPN blokes come to talk about what they do best - talk cricket. The official team of Harsha Bhogle and Alan Wilkins, with other "gurus" like Ravi Shastri, Geoffrey Boycott, Sunil Gavaskar, Navjot Sidhu and a few other guest commentators make for a formidable word-machine.

Ravi Shastri remains very economical, non-flamboyant, choosing to concentrate on the technicalities of the match. On the other hand , Gavaskar has a wry sense of humour, a knack for harmless mischief and sarcasm which can go easily unnoticed, but never fails to make the point. Add to all this, his prodigious memory, and we have a cracker!

Then again we have the celebrated knight, Sir Geoffrey Boycott, in his white straw hat and colourful shirts. He's unstoppable on his day, and can give quite a run for the English pudding, when it comes to witticisms. A thorough gentleman, he's one entertainer!

Enter Navjot Singh Sidhu with his word-spins(Siddhuisms), pleated turban, suit, a matching tie, and we have the "tadka" on the strange concoction we already have! When he's on the mike, he transforms into the philosophical joker, doling out words of wisdom in his very own inimitable style, unlike what we've seen of him on the field. " The style is the man" observed the French Literary critic Buffon. We would not disagree on that.

And stringing them all, is the ever suave Harsha Bhogle, who always manages to come up with obscure statistics and events.

Emotion,bursts of adrenalin and edge of the seat entertainment replaces all rationale when it comes to cricket, and I am no different. Right from the pitch report, to the end of match review, the one thing which can match up to Sachin's fluent straight drives or Dravid's defence or Gilchrist's hammering, is the cricket commentary.

And nothing, not even Mandira Bedi's spaghetti straps, or meaningless calisthenics of reading tarot cards to predict the result or stupid "who's the best cricket fan" games, can convince me of the marriage between cricket and entertainment, which they so shamelessly claim to do.

Cricket is entertainment enough - I dont need a promo of Dhoom2 happening to give me a high, prior to a match. Show me a few of Sachin's straight drives, or Andre Nel's histrionics, and I shall be comfortably numb for the rest of the game!

While at the topic of histrionics, one incident would rank at the top of every cricket lover's mind - Ganguly swaying his shirt at the Natwest Series , after India won a nailbiting final in 2002.

He's on a comeback trail, and he would need to do more than using his shirt to attract attention. Rationale would probably argue that its going to be very difficult for him, even though there's a change in the selection committee (with Dilip Vengsarkar), but the pseudo-bong in me would hope he makes a comeback, and make us drool over his silken square drives.

Well, there will be a lot of cricket being played (Ashes has started already) , till the World Cup. I just hope I dont see too much of chiffon sarees, huge earrings, stupid giggles and moronic analysis from actors claiming to be cricket analysts!!

I am back...

2006-11-22T12:11:00.000+05:30

Nope. I am not doing a la Arnie. I am just back from a brief love affair with her.

I was so enamoured by her presence, her grace, and her sophistication, that I thought I was in love with her. She was a template for the kind of lover I always wanted.

But then simplicity and sophistication haven't been good sleeping partners. Compatibility is the keyword for a relationship to sustain. Flexibility is no more a fashionable word used by the marriage-shrinks. Its a fact which we cannot evade-its right there in front of our eyes. And when you do not have these, a love affair can never go beyond a mere dream of what it could have been.

Hence, the heart-breaking decision to step away from her. Mind you, it is not a step back. Change, it would seem, was but a figment of my imagination. I need more time. So till then, adieu!.

I am moved..

2006-11-19T10:26:00.000+05:30

Yup..I am moved...by the need to change my blog page...hence, I have moved to here...yes, right here...oh, oh, you need to click here...!!

Ah forget it...anyways...hope to see you there with all the inaction that I get...

Tata!
Cheers!
Adios Amigos!

Gymee gymee gymee..aaja aaja aaja

2006-11-09T17:02:00.000+05:30

...gymee gymee gymee, aaja aaja aaja - A lower scale than the earlier one..no, the one lower than that..nope, a little higher than that..no, the one in between....aah! forget it...you can never become a bathroom singer!....I am sorry, I have to come to your bathroom..er, to your house to teach you..please make sure there's no water problem, and the geyser is working fine..winter's coming soon you see, and I cannot take a risk with my voice..

Anyways, I have been hearing this song for quite sometime now..ever since, the Wrangler jeans I had bought around 5 years back, refused to fit me anymore. I had to wrangle my way and my waist out of it. Please dont get alarmed, especially the pretty ones reading my blog - rest assured, you can still give me a kiss on the cheeks, without having to settle for an air-borne one, but then, the jeans really got me thinking.

No, not about buying a new one, but about the peripherals, if you know what I mean!

But before this song got into my head, there were certain incidents which seemed like ominous signals being sent out by Bappi Lahiri!!

I once caused a traffic jam, because I was stuck half in/half out. Some idiot at the end of the jam was overheard saying, that there's a bull stuck in a manhole and it would refuse to come out! All bullshit! Btw, I wonder why is it called "manhole"? Whoever coined it must have been an a**hole!!

Anyways, this had sowed the seeds of concern but I was still hopeful, because the girl I was eyeing whilst walking on the road actualy smiled back at me. I swear on the bull's ass, she did! Little did I know, she had already seen what I didn't...:(...

Then again, I had gone to one of the shopping malls in Mumbai to buy myself a jeans. I was parading in and out of the trial room with pairs of a lower waist size than mine. And everytime I would stay in, trying out the jeans, I would let out cries similar to the ones we've heard from Monica Seles (on the tennis court, i,e).

Needless to say, such cries would obviously raise eyebrows, and god knows what else!

Seeing my predicament, the floor manager, came upto me, adjusted his trousers which were falling way below the horizon, and asked me politely, "sir may I help you..?"

(I mopped the sweat off my brow and gave a sheepish grin,) "No, its ok, I am just trying out a few sizes which are of lesser size than mine.."

(One hand on the belt of his pants, with a no-nonsense expression on his face) "May I enquire why...?"

(I let out a confident smile) "Ah, I am just trying to motivate myself to lose weight..thats all..sounds funny isnt it?..but trust me, it works..I think you too should join me, especially with the tiers you have. I assure you, it wont be tiring at all."

(With a deadpan face) "Sir, whether you try to motivate or mota-weight yourself, these jeans wont fit you because you are trying it in the slim-fit jeans section. Please try out our latest range - it's called, "the wait is over""

(I didn't have the stomach for this insult - I glared at him) "Aapko pataa nahin, meri paunch bahut door door tak hai!" - I bellowed!

(He had a stupid smile on his face) " Woh to main dekh hi raha hoon sir.."

Seeing me grow red, he hurriedly clarified that there was no pun intended in what he'd said earlier on. But I had had enough!! Even before he could show me the jeans, with one swipe of the hand, I pulled out his belt and ran out of the mall - I showed him my pahunch that day!!

That was the day I vowed, I would return to the slim-fit jeans section and wear one without letting out a cry!

I joined my office gym, and ever since I ran on the treadmill, there's been no looking back! (Actually, its a little difficult looking back while running on it, but we'll let it pass - its an emotional scene here, understand pliss!)

I changed my attitude, outlook, routine, and most importantly my diet, in my effort to become that well-toned body you see in the Kamasutra ad...yes, the body of the guy, of course!...oh God!..please go away..please!...

No, on second thoughts, please dont...not many people come here anyways..its ok...

So, that was how I started listening to that song - gymee, gymee...etc. Very often the lure of the lullaby "so jaa, so jaa" would sound more pronounced than this one, especially in the wee hours of the morning. But I have managed to excercise..er, exorcise my demons.

I am still a long way, in inches, i.e, from getting into that Wrangler, but I shall get there someday. As Al Pacino had famously said in "Every Given Sunday" - "Life's all games and inches..", I have realised I would have to sweat it out for every inch I need to lose. And I swear on that floor manager's belt, which I still have, I shall do it!

P.S : All characters and incidents, except the bull, are purely fictional, and any resemblance to anybody living or dead is purely intentional..err, coincidental.

P.S again :This blog is not meant to show any disrespect to the "healthier" people out there.

P.S again again: I wonder why people go on a diet and exercise when they go to the gym-khana. You are supposed to eat there isnt it?..hmm, food for thought..

The Departed Don..with pop-corn

2006-11-06T09:10:00.000+05:30

We all have our moments of intro/retro - spection. We realise a lot about ourselves as we go ahead with the business of living.
Obviously the next line would be to write what I have realised, isnt it?
I cannot be rambling on philosophical pcycho-babble, cause then you'd stop reading this. I can sense that you almost are. Nonetheless, I shall go on.

I have realised that the movie buff in me cannot stay dormant for long.......philosophically profound, aint it?

Its strange how geographical changes can cause tectonic shifts in your movie lifestyle as well. It was very easy for me in Bangalore, thanks to a very good friend of mine, who would not pass a chance to watch a movie with me. Yeah, a girl-friend! Now, I can see smoke somewhere - oh, no its not my computer my dear! I think its you!! (devilish laughter here).

I had once asked her (with the best casanov-ish smile I had),

I : " Hey, I know you do like going to the movies with me?..But why me?"
(This is what you call a rhetorical question - where the answer is hidden in the question, or something like that)

She : "oh Rishi, you're such a nice guy, thats why"
(My casanov-ish smile turned into a casanov-ish glee, but being the dude I am, I made enormous efforts to hide it!!)

She : " yeah, you're such a nice guy - you're always there at the cinema hall buying the ticket for us, and you always get me pop-corn in the interval!" ( eyes fluttering with a cute smile)

Needless to say, I have started hating pop-corn!!

Ironically, its been as tough in Mumbai. No, not with the pop-corn! Rather, the search for movie-chums. Yes, thats a word I have just coined. My Dictionary meaning :

Noun: Movie-chums (-hyphenated) moovie chums
2 or more than 2 people who share a common or near common interest, a passion , and most importantly the ticket/pop-corn cost for the Movies.

Also, the proximity and choice of theatres - moreso, when you stay in the place as I do.

Anyways, I think I have digressed, because I can see from the look of your face, that the title of the post and my ramblings, till now do not have much of a relation. And thats an understatement.

Well, I wanted to tell you about the 2 movies I watched of late with 2 movie-chums - yes, I found them, and they are guys - I am happy for that -..:)...(No, I am straight!!) I am happy, because I do not have to get pop-corn for them in the interval, and we all believe in the concept of online booking!

Anyways, here goes my review (After much water has passed under the bridge, lots of candles burnt, and many reviews and polls):

Don - Comparing the AB's version with this one would be akin to comparing Madras Cafe's filter coffee to Coffee Day's Cappuccino. We all love the classic Filter coffee, but a contemporary Capuccino gives you the edge! And that is what the new Don does - gives the older one a stylish , sleek look. Personally, I went to watch the movie for Farhan Akhtar's directorial sensibility, not so much for SRK.

The King Khan was his usual self (as we've all seen him, be it any movie - romantic, comedy or an action movie!) - the familiar twitch of the eyebrow, the sarcastic smile trying to exude charm or the quiver in his dialogues. But having said that, I dont suppose anybody could have pulled it off with as much chutzpah as SRK did! He was brilliant in a few scenes - for eg., in Khaike Pan Banaras Waala, almost AB-esque. The music is as snazzy as you can get from Shankar Ehsaan Loy - especially the new rendition to "Main Hoon Don" or the 80's reminiscent feel in "Aaj Ki Raat". And the background score leaves you with a MI-esque feel to it.

The PTs - pretty things - Kareena Kapoor is no Helen, but she does make an impact with her small role and dance. Issha Koppikar as Anita is ok, while Priyanka "chops" Chopra is brilliant as Roma, the femme fatale, out for revenge.

Boman Irani - packs a punch yet again, while the rest - Arjun Rampal, Om Puri, and Pawan Malhotra provide the icing on the cake.

All in all, the new Don is a movie which you would not want to take seriously. Although the twist in the plot may leave the purist with a permanent scowl, it would be best to leave comparisons to reviewers and news channels. The new Don can probably be a cult classic for the generation that has not seen AB's Don, and a weekend timepass for the ones' that have.

The Departed : Martin Scorsese scores yet again after The Aviator, with a gripping cop-and-criminal story, set in Boston, Masachusets. I always say about certain people, situations and movies that they make "your life so happy" - and this is one of them. A mish-mash of the good and bad, which, at the end get mixed up so much that the line between right and wrong gets blurred. The absence of defined black and white characters lends itself to the deviousness of the plot.

Matt Damon is devilishly mercurial as the mafia's rat in the police department. Leonardo is brilliant as the undercover cop trying to come to terms with the macabre, that opens in front of him, and above all, when you have the sarcastic, good ol' old Jack Nicholson playing out his role of the Mafia head with devilish glee, you know you cannot sit back and put down the popcorn.

A racy screenplay, some cheeky humour, and gripping action makes it a must-watch. Of course, its not for the weak-hearted or the ones who would cry out, "mummy" if you abuse them with the F-Word!! Thats "The Departed" for you.

P.S : The "girl-friend" I spoke about in the beginning is one of my very good friends, and would gladly buy her pop-corn whenever she comes to the movies with me, on the condition that she lets me have atleast some of it!!

Blinds in the mind..

2006-10-27T00:38:00.000+05:30

A numbness...I meander through the mindless expanse..

Trying to find a purpose in this meaningless existence..

I sit in the dark, it shrouds me in its warm embrace..

And I think to myself, what did I ever do to hate the light so much?

I open my eyes to the brilliance...hands covering them..

I can still see the dark forebodings...

Frightened they may come true, I close my eyes again..

And I think to myself, will I ever see the silver lining?

I open my eyes again...to see atleast a ray..

I face the magnificence...with hope glimmering in my heart..

A streak of dazzle blinds me..

And I am back in the dark...in its warm embrace..

What did I ever do, to hate the light so much?

Of life and dosas...

2006-10-12T11:09:00.000+05:30

No, dont worry!! I am not going to embark on a theological lecture on the meta and theta of life, and whether a dosa has any effect on the human sub-conscious! (If at all there was any connection like that..)

I just realised that my blog count was stuck at 13 for a long time now, and I decided that I should now release myself from the clutches of this number and get back to writing some boring stuff.

This "stuff" is related to a certain dosa-making venture I embarked upon last weekend.For the uninitiated, the lure of good work and certain official considerations brought me back to Mumbai last month. Since then, I have been surviving the grime and dust of Thane city,although a good friend prefers to call it a village, and hence by logical deduction,me a villager (I am the intelligence, aint I?). Well, let me assure you my friends, it is a well-developed city, and is one of the biggest districts in Maharashtra. More information on Thane can be found here.

Of course, the added bonus is that I'm staying alone in a nice hill-facing apartment - something I always wanted to do for the past 1 year, since I outgrew the excitement of living with other creatures (read:roomies), scheduling your routine according to their culinary and lavatory habits (although my earlier roomies would beg to differ on this!!), seeing their apparel on your bed more than your own, etc. Of course, it has its own charm, but I guess I had had enough.

Anyways, my life has been pretty smooth till now, barring a few hiccups (of both kinds). And it was one of those nice weekend Saturdays which make you feel so good about your solitary existence, that I planned to make for myself a Dosa - just to add to the nice feeling. For the less knowledgeable folks, a Dosa (Or Dosai,Dosay,Thosai,Tosay as it is called in Malaysia), is a typical South Indian snack, circular in shape and extremely friendly to your taste buds. More information on this can be found here.

It all started when I woke up a little late, groggy-eyed, and with an empty brain whatsoever. The past few weekends generally have had some plans set out for me,and I was pleasantly happy to note that I finally had a "lazy weekend" to boast of!! As the cliche goes,"an idle mind is a devil's workshop",turned out it was my kitchen where I was going to put this into practice. Hmm...does it mean I am a devilish cook? Food for thought...

Anyways, I went into the kitchen for my customary cup of coffee and to generally inspect the inventory. A quick glance at my resources in the kitchen,a brief analysis, and I knew what to do - I rushed towards my cell phone!! In whatever professional life I've had till date, I've realised that core competency or domain expertise is a necessity to survive in this world. And who better exemplifies this fact than the mother. I had seen a bowl of unattended milk-tending-to-be-curd,which had grown sour, and I needed some tips on what to do with it. With my limited knowledge in such alien surroundings, I was pretty sure that it had to go down the drainage. What else could you do with it - I reasoned. But better sense prevailed, and I called in the expert.

I'd like to digress here slightly - the thing with experts is that, not only do they provide simple solutions for complex issues, but also let you use your resources in the best,economical manner possible. And voila! That is what happened - I learnt that we can use this sour-milk-turning-into-sour-curd for making Dosa batter!!Now! Doesn't it exhilarate you to think that such foul-smelling,semi-fluid,fit-for-flushing-down-the-sink material can actually be used for making such a tasty snack?!! It sure did to me!

And thats how I took the decision to make Dosas on that day.
With dreams of beautiful, circular, tasty,Dosas (what else did u think??) and what it could do to my weekend, a crash course on Dosa batter preparation, another cup of coffee, and I was all set for the battle. And to top it all,VH1 was playing all the Classics from the world of rock-music. It couldn't have been better, as I embarked on this culinary journey.

The digression again - the thing with crash courses - they only let you feel that you know everything. Period. And my hopes crashed against the kitchen walls as soon as I saw what was in my bowl. Now all those years where I would just stand next to my mother in the kitchen rushed through my head, as I recollected the look and feel of the dosa batter.

This looks different. Yes, it definitely does. No,but I guess it was for a different kind of dosa. Hmm..what kind was that? And what kind am I making? No, dont lose hope. Be strong..take a deep breath..It definitely looks like ok.

Well, I could have called up the expert again, but I did not want to, because all my domestic failures would be attributed to my single status, if you know what I mean. So I fought on. Alone. Johann Wolfgang, the great German playwright has said "The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk Alone". Well,my soul saw hope and dosas in the distance. And that was enough motivation for me. Dispelling whatever doubts I had, I satisfied myself with whatever I had prepared - which almost looked like what I wanted it to be. Of course, the bigger test was yet to come.

Without a moment's hesitation, I placed the non-sticky pan over the stove. (Well,why should anybody hesitate to just place a pan, you may ask? If you've asked this question, then you've missed the emotion. The idea is to convey that I was not deterred by the first little hitch)

Anyways,I had all the paraphernalia at hand for making my first Dosa,and I poured the batter on the already warm,oil-rubbed pan. As soon as it hit the landing pad, it came to life with a huge hissing sound, and a beautiful smell which felt like music to my ears and perfume to my olfactory senses!!

I knew that I had seen, heard and smelled this before - oh, the so familiar sight of a dosa simmering in the warm heat and oil! I felt a smile on my lips, and my chest broaden. It was not going to be so bad after all. I was already dreaming of what I now remember of being on a beach resort,with a beautiful girl by my side, a few cans of beer and feasting on you-know-what (A Dosa, what else!!), when my eyes registered on something.

I brushed aside the girl, and concentrated on what was happening. There were a few chinks in my dosa - simply put, it was breaking. Now, the crash course did not teach me troubleshooting, but I was not going to let my dosa crash! I poured a little more of the batter on the holes that needed to be filled. Nothing happened, and I thought it was time to turn it over. And when I did, my dreams crashed into oblivion, and my dosa on the pan!!

And then I remembered the most important tip from the course - The first one is a a pre-cursor of what is to come, unless you can repair it. And there was the clincher - repair.

I did tinker around with the batter a little more, but as you would have guessed by now,the battle was only half won (I am an optimist by nature you see). My dosas were not exactly circular in shape. In fact, they were not even remotely connected to the word "round". Geometry would have to be re-defined and researched extensively to give a name to this, but I dont think thats relevant to the current spiel.

Anyways, I made 3 of what I later re-christened them as "Mashed Dosas with Mulgi Podi and a touch of oil" - oh,c'mon when you can see a celebrity dish out a normal Dal served in a beautiful ceramic bowl with a slice of tomato,cucumber,dhania leaves as garnishing,and call it "The Lentil Exotica" or something like that, why cant I have my own recipe?

Well, so that was my attempt at Dosa making. I suppose one can extrapolate this to a lesson learnt in life - "prepare well and hope for the best. If it does not work out well, make the best of whatever you have". How does that sound? Cliched isnt it? Ya, lets keep dosas and life apart. I'd rather write code than get into preachdom.

But then I have started on this journey, and I dont have any intention of stopping so soon. I may have mashed dosas, watery rice, sambhar tasting somewhere between Dal and Rasam, and overcooked upma. But I shall not stop!! I shall go ahead, reach for my cell phone and call up Dominoes Pizza!

The policy of signs!

2006-02-03T15:03:00.001+05:30

The signs continue. No, not the signatures. I meant the signs which I had spoken of in my last post.

Well, it so happened, I was enjoying a blissful state in my office which comprised of:
# less to almost no work,
# drinking a cuppa coffee,
# going through blogs and
# ruminating over some very serious issues - such as when to go for lunch, whether to have a fruit bowl + a sandwich to maintain a diet or give a damn and have a satisfactory meal, whether the girl I saw earlier in the day in the cafeteria was smiling at me, or whether she was looking at the guy behind me, and so on and so forth. While I was engrossed in all that, the phone rang and broke my reverie.

Rishi Madhav?

Yes, thats me.

Sir, you have won a 1 lakh accidental insurance policy from XYZ bank. I invite you and your wife to come to our bank and pick it up.

Excuse me? Me and my wife? Oh you mean, getting married qualifies for an accident! Great! When could I come down to pick it up?

I am sorry sir, you have misunderstood. It is an accidental insurance policy sir meant for couples, which..

Yes, yes, I heard you. You know what, I am trying to look out for a soulmate. The sole of my shoe has rubbed out, but I have not been able to find one. I mean a girl, not a shoe! Mate, I think the only hope for me is to meet her accidentally.This policy would cover for that right?

No, No sir.This policy is for married people who might have an accident and it would cover for their costs..

Oh, so you mean, if I had an accidental marriage, this policy would cover for that? Wonderful!! Thats an amazing policy!! Get married and get reimbursed too!! What else would I need?

Yes sir, its nice to know that you are impressed by the policy, but what I meant is that if you are married, you can take this policy which covers for all your accidents and..

Yes !..I know that..what you need is for me to marry by accident right?

No sir, for this policy you need to have an accident, and more so..

Yes, that's what I meant. Thats much easier than looking at horoscopes,birth dates,doing small talk with the girl, etc. You see, I have a plan for that. I'll wait by the turn of a road and look at all the girls passing by. As soon as I find an attracive female passing by, I shall take my bike, and stand in front of her vehicle, so that she hits me! That will be an accident right? And then I shall propose marriage.By the way, would the policy cover for a few broken parts of my bike and possible body injuries to me?

Sir, please try to understand, this policy is for accidental accidents, not intentional ones..
Of course, you silly! How else did this word come by? Anyways, I have another doubt..

(Totally tired) yes sir, please go ahead..

Have you heard of the saying : "Kids in the backseat cause accidents, and accidents in the backseat cause kids"?

(Suspiciously) Yes, sir, I have..why do you ask?

Well, would your policy cover for any accident which might happen in the backseat?

Sir?!!..what are you talking about?..backseat of your bike?..in the open??

(laughing out loud) Of course!! In the open!..cant have a hooded bike can I?

(and then it dawned on me. Angrily, I shouted at him) I mean an accident TO my backseat,you fool! Didn't I tell you,she is going to hit my bike!..What else did you assume?..Goodness,how can you people think of such things?

(Sheepishly, almost blushing) Ah,I am sorry sir, but a small doubt. If the girl has a car, then this accident might happen right?

(Angrily) Yes, of course it would happen! And I am sure you would have a policy to cover for all the overheads which might come out of that accident, wouldn't you!!

(Blushes) He, he..you mean the little heads, right sir?

Shut up! You are talking way above your head! I am not interested in your policy, and for your information, I am single and gay!

Sir? Gay?

As in happy, you fool!!Goodbye!

And with that I banged the phone down exasperated. Here I was interested in marriage, albeit accidental, and there he was asking me all sorts of weird questions!! Of course, I would have been interested if the policy had covered for that. But it was not to be.

What else does a bachelor need? A nice room to stay in, enough money, friends, and the freedom to do whatever he wants to! Who needs a policy to compensate for the loss of all this?!

By the way, Talking about freedom, I ran out of my bathroom today morning, shouting out "eureka"! The Bathville horror has come to an end! The geyser has been fixed, and I have hot water finally.Justice has prevailed, and this yet again re-affirms my belief in the triumph of good over evil, of hot over cold! My house-owner being the evil, and me the hot guy, of course!

Anyways, I think Archimedes was obsessed by somebody called Rekha. Why else would he run out of his bathtub, naked, into the streets calling out,"u rekha,u rekha"!!

Of course, I had my towel on, and I dont have a bathtub!

I do....(But I do not want to!!)

2006-01-30T17:46:00.000+05:30

This must be the one thought that would be running through every man's mind when he finally comes face-to-face with the truth - the one irreplaceable, inevitable truth. How much ever one tries to avoid it, evade it, dodge it, he still cannot but face it. And when you've jumped on to the "wrong" side of the 20s (I would prefer to call it the wiser 20s though!), the ringing of the so called "bells" starts resounding in your ears. The sound is as sinister as what Agent Smith, in his inimitable drawl tells Neo in the Matrix - "Hear that sound? It is the sound of inevitability".
Although Smith was referring to an oncoming train, the sound of these bells seem no less ominous. To me atleast.

You can hear these bells almost anywhere. I do. In fact, over the past few days, there have been small, insignificant events, conversations and observations, which, a few years earlier, I might have overlooked with a dismissive wave of the hand or a yawn, but then, I have been stunned at the alarming regularity of these happenings - so much so, that I have begun to feel that there's a conspiracy being hatched by somebody somewhere. Almost like somebody's sending out signs to me - of impending doom. A female friend of mine was telling me about her situation at home, and mentioned that it is so difficult for a girl in India to be independent about her marriage. Well, I would like to invite all the feminists to take a peep into my life, and they would probably start campaigning for Men's Liberalisation!!

It all starts with the same question - you can go anywhere in the world, you'll find the start to all complications in life from this one question.

"When will you marry?"

Well, harmless question I would say. Only that, it assumes the answer to the unasked question (which should have been the first one), "do you want to marry?", to be a Yes!! But, like all dumb men I fall for it - probably an indication of why this question has assumed so much importance in my life - guess, smart people stay quiet and single!

Well, anyways, cant cry over spilt milk isnt it? So, we go on to the answer, which comes in various shapes and sizes, but invariably all point to the same point - pointedly, not now, but whenever the right person comes by.

Agreed.

But the "right person" wont just walk by you, look at you, and with an ecstatic expression on the face, say, " wow! finally we've met! Lets marry". You need to look around.

Well, I have been doing that for the past 6 years, since I joined college. Never found one. Rather, nobody found me!

So, let me find one for you.

Ok, you can, but I still cant say how much time I would take to decide.

Why should it take so much time for you? I know who'll be the right person for you. It wont take a second for you to decide.

A second? First, how do you know who's the right person for me when I myself do not know? And how do you know I wont have adjustment problems with that person just because YOU have selected?

Well, you'll always have problems, whether I select or you select.

Then why marry at all!!?? I do not want to have problems, more so, with somebody whom I barely know.I am happy with the problems I create for myself. I do not want problems created by somebody else in my life.

But how can you say that? Dont think it is only YOUR decision on that. It is our responsibility to get you married, and once that is done, we shall lead the rest of our lives peacefully.

So, isnt your life peaceful now? And this has got nothing to do with your responsibility.
This way, I would be losing my peace, and a piece of my mind too! Would that make you happy?

Dont be stupid! Marriages are all about adjustments, and compatibility.

Exactly my point! I need time to find out if the person can adjust to me, and if I can to that person. I cannot find that out by meeting for an hour, 2/3 days in a week for a few weeks and asking about her work experience. I need more time for that.

But how much time do you need? As I said, problems will anyways be there.

Yes, but if things go my way, I would have known her atleast for sometime, and that would atleast reduce the percentage of problems which might otherwise be really high if I do not know the person well enough. Marriage is not your responsibility, it's nobody's responsibility. It is a personal choice between 2 people who have chosen to lead a life together. It is a choice, not a compulsion, not a duty. Not because somebody is 30, or somebody's aunt says so, or the friend of some aunt's far off relative is looking for a groom!

So, you want to do a love marriage? Well, if that is so, you'll need to love only somebody who's from our state or from anywhere near our state. She should be a brahmin, and a non-vegetarian.

Its like what Henry Ford had mentioned about his Rolls Royce - " You can buy any colour, as long as it is black".

What is this now?
Well, anyways, I am not even talking about love or arranged marriage. I am just saying this much - look for a person. I am looking out too, ask all my aunts, all uncles, cousins, their aunts and uncles - everybody that I am looking out for a person. Only thing, marriage will happen on my terms and conditions.

Ok, so when will you marry?

Deja Vu? That's a classic stump out! Phew!!

As all good things come to an end, these things go round and round. Needless to say, such conversations leave me doubting my intelligence.

I had an almost similar conversation back at home, and since then, I have been seeing things. Yes. Apart from stars, i.e! The moment I landed back to my office, I met an old college friend of mine, and told him that I had been home for the weekend. He winked at me and said ", so dude, when are you getting married?"! I just smiled back at him, and said nothing like that, but I could not help feel an eerie sensation that this was just the beginning.

And as always, I was proved correct:

# All of a sudden on my yahoo inbox shaadi.com websites have started popping up,
# I woke up late yesterday and picked up the newspaper from outside the door, and the first sheet that lands in front my eyes - Matrimonials!!
# As soon I logged onto yahoo chat on Friday, I got 3/4 popups from my friends abusing me in the choicest of expletives. Without knowing the reason, I put in a smiley (reminded of my college days), and joined the dog-fight. But on asking them for their generosity with the language, they all blasted me out. They said that they had heard I was engaged and that I had not bothered to inform them. Well, as it turned out later (after a lot of clarifications, smileys, and more words), a junior of mine did not go to office, was bored at home, and hence decided to play a trick on somebody - turned out to be me!

Well, some rational, scientist-minded guy would prefer to mention all these as coincidences (and I would love to kiss him if that is so..ahem!..I am straight though), but I just cant help feel that familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. No, not indigestion.

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But I would need to find out the reasons that would erase the line in the brackets, and leave a convincing "I do". Till then I intend to stay smart - quiet and single.

What's in a place...

2006-01-16T10:07:00.000+05:30

Just a tweak to Shakespeare's famous line ....

A listing of whatever came to my mind in the places I've lived post - college....Feel free to add more...

Hyderabad :
Hyderabadi Biryani, Mirchi Bajji, Kalmi Kabab (treat for the non-veggies!!), Kubani-ka-meetha (heaven), Karachi bakery (cookies are awesome),Charminar, Banjara Hills, Ramoji Film city, Necklace Road, Nagarjuna Sagar lake, IMAX, Paradise Hotel, Eat Street,DownTown Pub, Bottles&Chimneys, Chutneys, Minerva...
Kya jee tumhe?, kya jee unhe?, Idhareech, Udhareech, Petrol Pumpaan, Seedhe Jako, Right![Standard answer if you are looking for some place...even if u are asking for the moon!!..:))..], Meetaran Pe chaltu bhai....

Mumbai:
Churchgate, Marine drive,Chowpatty, VT, Bandra, Bandstand,Dadar, SiddhiVinayak Temple, Matunga road, Madras Cafe, Kobe's sizzlers, New Yorker, Juhu Chowpatty,Fashion Street,India gate, The local trains, Coconut water at Juhu Chowpatty, Paanipuri and chaats (everywhere!!!), One famous chaat-guy in Bandra (do not remember the name), Fame Adlabs, Cinemagic, Dance Bars in Andheri, Naturals, Jazz by the Bay, Haji Ali, The sea by the Haji Ali Mosque, A cup of tea sitting at Marine Drive, Marine Drive at night, Bindaas Bombay Babes...
Eda hai kya?, Tapori, Tapri(shop), Waat lag gaya bhidu, Khopcha, Kharcha-Paani, Kaan ke neeche bajaaon kya, Kaiku, Bole to, Apun-ka ishtyle...

Noida:
Sector - 35, sector - 18, Atta Market, The Summer Heat!!, Waves Mutli-plex, Kovalam, Mayur Vihar, Dilli Haat, Chandni Chowk, HaldiRams at Chandni Chowk, Red Fort, Jalebis, Samosas, Aloo parathas, Rajma Masala, Dal fry, Haan-ji, Sir-ji, Jaan de Gaddi!!, Road-side Tikkas, Connaught place, Plate meals at Andhra Bhavan, Plate Meals at Saravana Bhavan, A famous shopping street (forgot the name!!)....

Bangalore:
IT, Software, Pubs, Brigade, MG, Purple Haze, Electronic City, The sleepy weather, Pseudo-american culture, Wassup dude?, Chill Maadi, Take a Chill Pill (!!!..whats this pill??), Machha, Bugger, Enna da, no da, what da, yes da, how da, why da, when da, Commercial street, Lalbagh, Good Andhra Food at lots of places, Beer, traffic snarls, Irritating auto-drivers....

The Bathville Horror

2006-01-04T15:52:00.000+05:30

I stood there. Staring at it. It was dim inside, though there was a bulb. I was not too sure whether it was the clouds outside, or the fear in my head. I tried to distract myself, by thinking about the schedule I had for the day, but my eyes were rooted to that thing...lying on the floor...so harmless, so inanimate, and yet so dangerous...I knew I've been there before...so many times, I walked in, knowing full well, that I would come out stronger, warmer....but this was different...I was doing this everyday, and it only deepened my fear of it....the helplessness before it was agonising...painful..cold and shivering...

And then I felt it...that all too familiar sinking feeling rushed into my brains....I could sense my heart pumping blood, the veins throbbing in my head, the bare feet on the wet floor shuffling forcing me to turn back and run out..I was shivering..not because of the cold...but fear...ever felt what it is like to see death right in the eyes, and yet knowing full well that you have no way out of this?...that you would have a slow painful death?....

But the need to be there, overpowered the impulse of running out....I knew, if I did that, I would never be able to forgive myself...I was a changed man, and had vowed, that I would erase all those days from the past...the humiliation, the ridicule....NO!...I had decided..come what may, I shall do this..every day...and if that means spending those 10 minutes with death, I would...

I clenched my fists, grit my teeth, and tried not to think much....I kept my eyes rooted at the spot...for one brief moment, all the bygone days flashed by....as they say, before you die, you see your entire life in a flash of momentary brilliance...all those days passed by, when I stood in the same situation but in different places..

I closed my eyes for a few moments....tried to think...I knew those 10 minutes would be the toughest in my life...they would seem like 10 years...but I was sure, it could do no harm to me...how could it?...it was anyways in my control...yes, it shall have it's 10 minutes of sadistic pleasure, but I would remain victorious for the rest of the day...

So, I took the few steps towards it, said, "Ok, this is the moment"...held my breath, and with one swipe of my hand, took the full bucket of water in my hands and poured it over myself!!!....for the first few moments, I could see nothing but flashes of light, as my mind went in a state of numbness...and then, I opened my eyes...

There it was..the bucket....empty, as it should be....I looked at it...I smiled....I knew I would not be kicking the bucket...I shall die some other day...and with one arrogant smirk, I kicked this bucket hard!!...With my chest swelling in pride at the act of defiant courage I displayed, I turned on the tap and let it fill one more time....

Pity, my father was not there that time...else, he would have been proud at how far his son has come along...from a kid who would cry at the prospect of taking a bath in the cold climes of the Bengal winter, to the irregularities in that process in college (please understand, the weather was beautiful, and hence most guys used to take bath on alternative days...i was a slightly worse than that), to taking bath in cold water everyday!!...I know...he would have patted my wet back and said, "Well done my son!..Kya bath hai!!"...

Anyways...I suppose I could tweak an old saying to sum up my situation - "when the going gets wet, the wet get going"!!....

And I too shall get going now...no no..not because i am wet now...please!!...I just want to go have my bath...I mean the rice bath...for lunch!

General Knowledge..general droppings..they are friends in the army!!...

2005-12-23T12:33:00.000+05:30

I feel nice. Not because somedody's mowing down the hair. I am trying to grow mine - a new year resolution - need to give the hair oil industry a boost!

If somebody were to ask me, how's life?..i would say, "life's looking up"...not that, I am lying on the floor right now....but it's one of those light-headed moments when you feel like leaning back on the chair, put your feet on the desk, and look outside the window into the open...mind you, I am feeling light-headed, and it's got nothing to do with the picture...I am really trying to grow my hair...

It's a nice feeling...though, I cannot do any of those.

I dont want to lean back on my chair - I somehow do not like doing that when I am sitting...maybe I am not a lean guy...or maybe I shall do that when I am a chairman...

I don't want to put my feet up...feels like I am a government official (without the pan, and the toothpick though!!)...and pan refers to the betel leaves..not PAN, pliss!!....Ok, I know you got that..dont have to pick a tooth on that...err, I mean, pick a fight!...

I cannot look out of the window....because there is no window near my cubicle...

Anyways...I am not sure why I am rambling about.A movie on my blog would probably be called " Ramble in the Blongx"........

But I guess it's got something to do with Bangalore's weather...or should I say Bengalooru's weatheruu!...first it was Kolkata, then Mumbai, Chennai and now Bengalooru...very soon, I would be saying I am working in Motoroolu..one of my friends works in SAP...he would have to say, I work in SAPPU..sounds like soppu!!...(btw, I wonder if this name changing has got something to do with pappu..."pappu pass ho gaya" - remember?)....

Pappu might have inspired the name, but cut to brass tacks - the potholes are anyways going to be of the same diameter, traffic and bottlenecks will remain good sleeping partners, and IT will rule the roostu!..But we can be sure of one thing - boiled beans will be in abundance from now on - Bengalooru means boiled beans....But whats in a name anyways?....just letters and vowels...it's not going to change mindsets......although, there are different names for TV Sets!......(intelligent joke eh?)...

Well, talking of mindsets, one metro still holds first place right up there...or should I say, right behind there - Chennai...was reading an article a few days back about CVMs - Condom Vending Machines. Chennai had decided to install CVMs in public places such as malls and theatres, to increase awareness about safe sex - the state had reported maximum number of AIDs cases as on March 2005 - 48,180...Noble intentions...but, a few religious parties there seem to think, that fear of God and not use of condoms, would help prevent this disease.

If you were lying on the hospital bed, with IVs and medication all over your body, and you're counting your last few days before you kick the bucket (with due respect to a good friend of mine who shares this name!!), would you think about the temples you did not visit and the rituals you missed, or would you be thinking about the 3 Rupees you did not want to spend?

Isn't fear of AIDs itself a big factor in deciding to have safe sex? They say that its hypocritical - we preach one-man-one-woman relationships, and on the other hand we ask them to use condoms!!..not on the hand literally, if you know what I mean.....They probably want to imply that if you are a faithful husband, you should / need not use condoms, and If you are not, you should start fearing God!!.....the concept of family planning is probably alien to these people...or maybe religious tourism is at an all time low in TN!!...

Speaking of family planning, one of the members of a prominent religio - political party had commented that every Hindu should give birth to 3 children....Why?...Because the Hindu population is in danger of getting extinct to the so-called fanatic religions prevalent in the country!!.......Napolean had commented, "There is no place in a fanatic's head where reason can enter" - burning down an Archies showroom on Valentine's day and hauling up couples into Police vans doesn't really count for very reasonable behaviour, does it?

Btw, I don't understood, if Hindus are in danger, why only 3....Something to do with numerology..or is there a connection to the protest against CVMs?...interesting eh?

Anyways.I do not know why I have gone on a commentary like this...I like to think I am not opinionated...but a friend recently commented to me (amidst a debate we were having), that I should start to keep opinions....and that got me thinking. I was confused, 'cause, most of us pass judgments or conclusions in the name of "having an opinion".

I do not know which is better. Rather I would say, the question "which is better" is in itself flawed, because it has got nothing to do with the character, per se. It's more of a personality ethic - How he/she sees or doesn't see the world around him/her. I believe there's a fine line between forming an opinion and forming a conclusion - the same line which divides objectivity from everything else.

I am yet to find out whether I "have an opinion" or " I conclude"....

And having said that, I suppose, I should conclude this spiel, and put to an end to your torture!...It's amazing how wonderful the mind works...a few minutes ago, when I started out writing, I had left it wide open - waiting for words to flow out...and then, when I came to the "opinions" part, it just closed ...almost as if, a program was running somewhere, switching my brains on for sometime, and then immediately switched it off.

I think I know who's written the program - it must be Anchor...Anchor produces switches right?......

OK!...thats it...I am not going to spoil your Friday any more....

Read this somewhere:
If somebody exclaims on a Thursday " T.G.I.F" (Thank God It's Friday), ask them to calm down and say S.H.I.T (Shit Honey, It's Thursday!).......

It is the tata!

Dont know...

2005-12-19T19:25:00.000+05:30

Is it love or is it just the idea of being in love?

Is it the noise outside or is it just the silence inside?

Is it the dark clouds hovering in the sky or is it the darkness in my brains?

Is it the sound of the footsteps or just my heartbeats?

Is it the headache or is it only the ache?

Is it what I see or is it what I am shown?

Is it the memories I have or the choices I have made?

Is it what we think we are or is it what we say we are?

Comfortably Dumb

2005-12-13T12:15:00.000+05:30

Been quite some time since I've ventured into this space...Been spaced out I suppose...I'd been thinking of penning down something...

But I guess, one feels bored of expressing oneself..One of those periods where you just feel the emptiness in your head..a hollowness..a black hole.

Sometimes you just feel like keeping quiet, keeping your head down, and do whatever you've been doing...see if things fall in place...Lose control and let things drift for a while...

I am probably waiting for something...Or maybe something's waiting for me...

Till then I am going to listen...I am going to look out at the horizon, look for the silver lining amongst the clouds, and wait for a fresh breeze to take me somewhere else...

Till then, I am going to be comfortably dumb...

Snorting!!

2005-12-06T11:07:00.000+05:30

Well, it's been one of those days, when the day just seems to drag on. If you're part of the software industry, you would probably understand that. It's one of those days, when you are

a) just sitting in front of your computer - thats what you get paid for anyways!
b) drink atleast 3 / 4 cups of coffee - you don't pay for them anyways..
c) keep clicking on the send-recieve button of your Outlook Express - thats part of your job profile!
d) read all the sent mails again and again - thats not part of your job profile...but whats the harm in working extra!!
e) spend 2 hours on the lunch - it's a social occasion you see!
f) Steal a few winks post-lunch - yes, thats possible if you are sitting in a cubicle as nice as mine!
g) Write crap like this on your blog - Well, couldn't think of better crap!

As they say, an idle mind is a devil's workshop...but they do not understand that it's the idling that keeps the shop working....wow!..I am enlightened!!......

On a more serious note...I actually wanted to write about snoring. And this thought passed by after I had stolen about 25 out of the proverbial 40 winks in my cubicle...a little after lunch....and then jolted back to reality, cause, I felt that I had started snoring! Now, my cubicle is in a division where people do not generally talk, and a snore would sound like a lion's roar - would'nt want them to get scared, do I?......Thats a nice poem by the way -

snore would sound like a lion's roar,
the issue is at the core,
Not a 1, or 2, but totally 4,
Oh man!..you are being such a bore!!!

Anyways...I am sorry..I got distracted by my newly found poetic abilities...

So... I felt I had started snoring, because I generally do so when I am sleeping - or so my roomies say. Of course, I would not know if I were snoring, 'cause then I would not be sleeping, and hence would not be snoring...which gets us back to the point that I do, because, I know I am sleeping, but I would not know I am snoring cause I am sleeping......confused?.....same here...but, well, right now, I am doing neither..and that is proved by the fact that I am not sleeping now (else I would not be writing), and hence I am not snoring.

Whenever my roomies tell me that I was snoring, I kick myself in the ass...I dont do that literally ( It's pretty difficult actually)...but I feel disappointed, 'cause I know how irritating it can be for people who sleep with you..err, I mean, if there are others sleeping in the same room, or on the adjacent chair, or berth...it's happened on a number of occasions with me, especially on long - distance bus trips, and I can tell you - there's nothing more nightmarish than having a co-passenger snore directly into your ears, when all you need is a nice quiet sleep, without the unwanted background music.

But there are different medical reasons to snoring -
# Being overweight - most common reason
# Having poor muscle tone in the toungue and throat - when the throat muscles are relaxed, the tongue falls back and causes blockage to the airway - and hence you snore. This happens in deep sleep....also, when you are drunk and sleeping - well, thats what the doctors say.
# Or if you have an obstructed nasal airway, due to a stuffy or blocked nose - which is often the case with me, cause, I have a perennial cold and sneezing problem.

Well, whatever the reason...it's an extremely embarassing situation for the person who snores....my roomies say that I have spoken in my sleep too, forget just snoring.....I actually wished one of my roomies a happy birthday a week after his actual date. I said that I heard others wish him, and hence thought I should do the same!!

And thats the only time I have spoken...in my sleep, i.e.....but it scares me...what if I blurt out a guy's name (maybe because he owes me some money), and people end up doubting my preferences - if you know what I mean!!.....

Anyways...people who snore excessively snore should probably get medical attention...there are different ways you can find out if you snore a lot...one of the most common indicators - while you are busy answering nature's call, your roomie starts disturbing you and banging on the door asking you to come out. While you hurriedly come out, offending nature in the process, your roomie quietly goes back to sleep - reason? - he's had to wake up in the wee hours, and since he would not have had anything else to do, he would have finished his call...and now would be making up for that - you don't let him sleep...he wont let you crap!!...talk of revenge!!..

So, those were my snores on thinking...err, my thoughts on snoring... As is evident, it's been a very busy day, and I have been working a lot!

If you're still reading this, I could give you a good idea to cover up your snore. Start "snorting" - Fart while you snore!!!.......you snort!!

Choices

2005-12-05T10:33:00.000+05:30

Absence of choice is an illusion.

It is a mask pulled over the eyes by the mind.

But the mind is not disjoint from the self. I am what my mind is.

Life is full of choices. And decisions.

Of decisions to make a choice. Of decisions to not make a choice.

Deciding not to choose, is a choice in itself.

The only time I did not have a choice was when I was born.

Else, I chose to be sad. I chose to be happy. And I chose to be neither.

" It is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Falling in love...

2005-11-08T11:22:00.000+05:30

...is so hard on the knees. So goes a rock song. It was sung by Aerosmith - thats the name of a rock band, in case you did not know. I am not sure why it was named so. In fact, I am puzzled by most rock band names -

Megadeth - sounds like a unit of death! Their junior band would be called Kilodeth I suppose!

Iron Maiden - Wonder how she would look like. All black and shiny , except of course, if she does not have rust on her. She is Iron, remember? And iron rusts - basic science, dear!

Sex Pistols - Now, what can I say about that!

Anyways, we could now go on with analysing all the bands and tearing their names to pieces. But I am not here to do that, am I?

I wanted to write about "falling in love", and the immediate line that came to mind was " is so hard on the knees". Now, please do not get me wrong. I have not had any bad experiences with falling in love, so much that I have broken my knees. There's only one place I fall everyday, and that is sleep.

But I was just remembering my college days, and I was reminded of an incident, in my first year, when a certain somebody fell for me. No, fell as in, fell in love. Cannot disclose her name for reasons of confidentiality. last heard, she was married and enjoying her state of marital bliss. Can't say the same about the guy I think. Anyways, so she actually fell in love with me. Or that is what she said.

I do not exactly remember the events that transpired, before we found each other under a huge banyan tree in the park, but it was a sunday afternoon. And the park was adjacent to the bus stop. Not a very ideal place for coochie-cooing and talking sweet nothings, but then I was hardly in the mood for it. It had been around 3 months before I was beginning to find my bearings in the college, and I was surprised - no, confused would be more apt - at the situation I landed myself in. And all because i sang?!.

Yep! For the uninitiated, I used to sing. Not in bathrooms alone, but outside of it too. As in, not immediately outside the bathroom door, but in front of people . Ok, you get the picture i suppose. But that was a talent I was immensely proud of, and needless to say, I exhibited that with gay abandon when I joined college - during ragging, in the mess, in the classrooms, and of course in the bathrooms.

This became a hot topic with the girls in their hostel, and I was a star overnight - actually many overnights. Now, the bathrooms were pretty far and secluded from the girls hostel. How they could have heard me singing. On second thoughts, If I sang with "gay abandon", how could a girl get hooked on to me!!?

Anyways, back to the point. In our initial days, we were a bunch of a few guys and girls who used to hang out together, and she was amongst them. I am not sure how the love bug bit her, but it did. Nobody, except myself, has ever related the word handsome to me. Its usually been - hmm, yeah ok, hmm again, and so on. And I am not a Salman fan either - never removed my shirt (that would have been a different story, or a no-story i suppose!). so, I am thinking it must have been my singing.

And there we were, in the park. We were sitting on the cement parapet surrounding the tree. She had my hands in hers, and she was looking at me. I actually wanted to look at her, but I had a myriad things in mind. That town is not so friendly to outsiders who come in and start making girlfriends. And they show their unfriendliness in a not-so-nice way - dead of night, you are dragged out of your room, and abused at. Now, if they were hitting you, it's nice. But dragging you out of your sleep and only abusing you is something I do not like - hit me or let me go to sleep.

So, I was looking here and there, when she said, " Rishi, I am really in love with you, and I am willing to wait for you". Slightly touched (of course she held my hand), I looked at her, and then she said, " I can wait even for 5 years". Now, I am not sure even now, why she said 5 years.

Was it 4 years of college + a year of job and then marriage?
Was 5 considered a lucky number in love? Or
Did she believe in numerology?

Well, I never understood that, but brushing all that aside, I said, " look, I need sometime to think over this. You are a nice girl, and I respect your feelings, but I cannot tell you anything now.I really need some time." In reality, I had seen some dhoti-clad villagers looking towards us, and that was making me uneasy.

And so, I did a lot of thinking - over booze parties, over bunking classes and solving crosswords in the last bench. Then, one of her friends came to me and said that she really needs an answer. And with all the seriousness I could muster, I told her that I really am not interested in a relationship, cause I wanted to spend my college time on studies.

(Its a different story that I scored a 65% in the first year while everybody else was way above me!! But what the hell)

I saw her face, and I felt a tinge of sadness - she looked at me, as if she were losing me and all my love. But it had to be done. To achieve my goals, I needed to sacrifice something. With a forlorn look on her face, she almost whispered back, " ok rishi. I understand. we'll be friends only." And I came back, a free bird!

The next few days, we never met. Though I was pretty sure of what I had done, nonetheless, a few doubts had started to creep in. After all I am human being too.

Exactly a week later, I saw her in a college fest. I was standing under my department, and she looked towards me, smiled and waved her hand. For a moment, I thought, " is this a sign for me?"

And then, I saw it. From behind me, one of my seniors ran towards her with a rose in hand, in typical Hindi film style. I think it was the Miss Rose event for that fest. Just as he neared her, he tripped over one of the tent ropes, and fell right at her feet! He got up, brushed his knees, and gave the rose to her. She smiled at him, then looked at me, and smiled again.

He must have hurt his knees badly, cause, the next day I saw him limping in his room. I could hear the song he was singing.

Oh, by the way, I now know why she said 5 years. She failed the first year in college.

Staying Alone..and alive!

2005-11-02T11:35:00.000+05:30

Living on your own could not be as tough as people make it out to be. Or so I thought.

When I left college, I was bubbling with enthusiasm at the prospect of living away from home, and looking forward to the "freedom" it had to offer. 2 years and 2 cities hence, I probably would want to tone it down. Not that it has been bad. In fact, these have been one of the most wonderful years, and am still looking forward to more. I see myself as single and gay ( as in Happy, in case you thought otherwise!!) for a few more years to come.

But to put things in perspective, I suppose, the lack of anticipation of issues, one faces living alone, is what makes your stay a trifle more "on the edge"!

Of course, one could argue, what can possibly go wrong if you've been through 2 well-paying jobs, and stayed in good metros.

Well, all that aside, I can now vouch for the fact that living alone is not all that easy. A few reasons:

# Support System : If you do not have a good support structure around you, even the most unemotional of persons would find it hard to stay alone. Those are the times when you actually realise the importance of family, friends and the like.

# Health : Taking care of yourself, going to the doctor even when you are sick, and getting your medicines, can be quite an experience. Taking precautions with food - being a food junkie, thats the part I have found most difficult. I for one, have vowed, never to have Domino's ever again! Of course, the flip side - I could have an entire pizza for myself without having to share with anybody!

# Finances : Being able to stay afloat for the entire month (what with the bills, house rents, loans, etc), and yet save for a rainy day, can give you good lessons in Financial management. I for one, am always getting drenched!

# Daily chores : Dealing with the maid (that too in her language, if its an alien place), bargaining on the money, matching your schedule to hers, etc. can make you a master in Human Resources. Of course, add a few courses on negotiating tactics, learning a foreign language, and a little bit of operations too -
- Getting vegetables has been the most difficult task. Still find it baffling when moms filter through vegetables to select them - never got down to understanding the science behind it, but i do it nevertheless, putting on a "been-there-bought-that" kind of an expression - defence tactics to avoid getting conned by the vendor.
- Cooking has been the next biggest task I have learnt - never again will I tell my mother that salt was less in sambhar! I now know what it feels like to listen to that, and worse, taste your own salt-less food!!

# Making friends : In big cities such as Noida and Mumbai, making friends can be quite a challenge, and especially for guys who are not much of extroverts. Time, work pressure, distance, all tend to act against you. Well, after having spent years in college with wonderful people, making new ones can become quite an onerous task.

There could be lots more, but having said all this, I feel that living alone has made me a better human being - slightly better!! In the midst of a discussion, a friend had told me that marooned in an island alone is the worst thing to happen to anybody. And I had said that marooned in a city with unknown people is even worse. Lack of known faces, lack of a room other than yours' where you can just go and hang your boots, can give you some tough lessons in life.

You may not be completely confident of yourself. But you certainly realise, that it is the person who hangs in there, with all the rantings of the landlord, the unwashed clothes, the rotten tomatoes, the lonely nights with only the rotating fan to give you company, who actually finds answers to many questions life has to offer.

The essence of living alone is not freedom, but the responsibilites it gives you - to one's own self.

Happy living!

When Death Spoke...

2005-11-02T11:32:00.000+05:30

It was draped in a white cloth - the last piece of cloth, the frail, skinny body would ever wear. Eyes half-closed, a slight smile, as if he were telling the boy standing by his side that you have a long way to go before you reach here. Was it really a smile or was it the boy's illusion?

He kept looking at him, looking at his chest which had been consistently doing it's job - it was like an ocean wave, everytime, you felt this was the last, it would come back again. Adding precious moments to the boy's life. They had pronounced, it was just a matter of time. Little did they know, that it was time that mattered for the young boy. He had never seen death before. He was prepared for the fact, that the body lying on the bed, was in it's last few moments. He knew it was just a body. The spirit had already left.

It was a machine, which was running the last mile - cranking every ounce of energy it could muster to pull through, using every bit of oil, every part to keep running. He was amazed by how resilient the body was. The painful stubbornness to exist was nothing short of heroic. It was a humbling experience. A feeling of helplessness. A feeling of being a mute spectator, while death walked the last few miles.

But the machine kept running. Every time he would see the chest heave up, he thought "that's it", but then it would come back again. Moments of joy, moments of agony. It was bitter,cause he was leaving - never to come back. Only memories, pictures and images would remain - which would eventually get buried in the sands of time. He had never told him, how much he loved him. Cause, he had never known that death would speak to him so soon.

The boy kept his hands on the body's chest - felt the heart. It was just a machine. But the boy was happy he was leaving - cause, he could not see the suffering and pain the body had been put through for so long. He did not know what to say, and,even if he did, would the body listen to him? He did not know. So,he kept silent.

The only sound that came in the room was from the fan that kept rotating - a monotonous drone.

Images from the bygone days flashed by - the innumerable arguments, the chatter they used to have,the scoldings he would get, the movies they watched together, the debates they would have,the games of cricket they played,the tears they shed together,the laughs they had...he felt a tinge of pain...all's gone....

Suddenly, he realized what he would not give to have all that back..atleast for sometime.What he would not give to open those eyes, and look at him, give him a smile and tell him, as the old man had told him innumerable times "I am there, dont worry".What he would not give to walk out of that room with the old man and play a game of cricket, or have a cup of tea.....what he would not give...

And then, he saw. The chest slowed down. The boy came back to reality.For a moment he thought the machine would shudder to a stop. But he was wrong. It was a lovely harmonic. He started to count the seconds between every heave of the chest. It had increased, and was regularly doing so.

He saw the face. Serene.The smile was still there, eyes half-closed.

The machine was slowing down. It did not shudder. It was like the ocean had lost energy in sending out waves anymore, and was slowly retreating.

The last few. The boy kept his hand on the chest again. Saw the face. His tears had dried up. He just wanted the body to stop. To stop trying. To stop putting any more effort. He just wanted it to leave slowly,silently - in the dead of night.

And then, he felt it. Rather, he did not. The chest had stopped. The waves had stopped. The machine had run the last mile.

The boy looked at the old man's face. The smile was still there. Thought he would say something. Waited. One last wave, one last twitch of the eye, one last goodbye.

But death had spoken.

Existentialism and life

2005-11-02T11:26:00.000+05:30

Anybody who's read Ayan Rand would instantly relate to the concept of "Existentialism" - A Philosophy that speaks of a person's "objective" outlook towards life and living - A life, devoid of any pre-concieved notions of what's "right" and "wrong".

Most of us have a certain way of viewing the world which directly relates to our beliefs, to a dogma which forms the basis for the way we live. It could be either "Subjective" - which relates to our emotions at any given point of time, or could be "Intrinsic' - which leads us to believe that "good" or "bad" is an inherent property of whatever we see or feel.

Objectivism talks about a philosophy of life which is grounded in reality. Values and ethics which we form are said to be "Objective" if they meet the cognitive needs of the human brain - evaluating something, based on a standard rationale of thought.

Rand, while explaining "Existentialism", had coined the phrase that "existence exists" - Meaning, objective reality exists irrespective of a person's emotions, feelings,fears, etc. It holds that reason is man's only tool to percieve reality, and all actions should be guided by the same.

A major theme of Objectivist philosophy talks about "selfishness" as the highest form of virtue any human being can have.

Rand wrote:
My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.

Thats Objectivism.

Well, on a lighter note,I do not know why I am putting this up at 8:00 am in the morning!!..."existence" issues on a Wednesday morning doesn't augur too well for the week eh?!!.....

Anyways, happy living!!
Cheers!