Err.. for non-Tamil readers of this blog, the title means that "We are riding the peak of the Kali Yug". Yeah, its 'that Kali Yug' that ends in aramageddon et al.
This phrase is usually used in Tamil (esp. cinema) to explain the various evils that are being perpetuated in this world like terrorism, communal violence, Captain Vijaykant Movies etc. This is one of the usages of the phrase. The other usage is associated with the concept of Karma... you know the whole "As you sow, so shall you reap" funda of Hinduism. The usual concept sez that you will be rewarded/punished for your deeds in your next life but they say that in Kali Yug you shall be punished instantly during your current life. I use the phrase in context of the latter. So what is this punishment, you might ask...
BOTS! GAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!
Yes. You are looking into sad visage of the latest victim of Comment Bot vandalism. My poor poor blog....
Every one of my posts excluding this one (hopefully) that are on this page have solicitation via comments. The Bot Gods have swung into action swiftly and smitten me with this horror for the blasphemy of speaking out against them a few days back. Isn't this just like every misdeed being punished instantly in this Kali Yug?
I take this opportunity to pray to them.
Prayer: (To be repeated 1008 times by me)
"Oh Great _________ (fill this blank with the God associated with Internet/Blogs).
Please forgive this blasphemous soul,
Please take your filthy, crappy, pain-in-the-ass, no-good ads to some other poor unsuspecting blogger.
To someone in my blogroll maybe?
Amen/Swaha."
PS: In spite of being made to eat a huge piece of humble pie, I have decided to refrain from using word verification. Lets wait and watch. Also is there any workaround that you guys can suggest?
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Bon Appétit
You thought oysters and snails that the French relish are messy food?
Here is something to be really sqeamish about.
The last one is something that I wouldn't want near me even when I am dead and gone....
So next time stop complaining and just eat your veggies...
Here is something to be really sqeamish about.
The last one is something that I wouldn't want near me even when I am dead and gone....
So next time stop complaining and just eat your veggies...
Monday, July 17, 2006
Remembrance...
If possible, please observe two minutes of silence @ 06:24 p.m. today in remembrance of the Mumbai Blast victims. It was exactly at this time a week ago that the first bomb exploded.
Thanks.
Thanks.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Is it wrong to be right?
Today, Chennai was treated to another one of those welcome but short lived showers which help cool this giant microwave-of-a-city a wee bit. Unfortunately though, the rain that seems to cool everything ended up heating up my temper. Here's what happened...
As those who have read this post of mine will know, I take a two leg journey back home from the office.
The sudden rain had almost drenched every body at the bus stop and everyone was eager to get into a bus to get away from the rain. Just as I boarded the bus home from the bus stop, a guy with a salt 'n pepper beard jostled for entry into the already crowded bus ahead of me. Polite guy that Scipio is know to be , I let him enter the bus before me.
So here is the situation...
Me - Step 1 of the bus foot-board
Mr. PepperBeard - Step 2 of the foot-board.
Needless to say, I was getting further drenched in the rain, so I requested him to move further up the bus so that I could do the same too. He grumbles that he has to get down at the next stop and so does not want to move in. So I ask him to move aside so that at least I could get into the bus, something that he tries to do grudgingly. I had a laptop with me which was making it rather it cumbersome for me to move around, so I obviously find it a little difficult to get past him... which in turn makes him grumble further. I was starting to get pissed off a bit myself. Alright buddy! Let me get the facts right here...
1. You rudely jostled past me.
2. You refuse to move in so that you could get down at the next stop.
3. You don't care about buying a ticket either.
In spite of all this it is me who ended up irritating you???
He left the bus (and hopefully my life too) at the next stop, but there was further more to come...
It would be an understatement to say that the bus was crowded. Tightly packed would be a better description of the situation. I had entered the front end of the bus and there was no way I could have moved all the way down the bus to get the ticket. So as is the unwritten rule of the Chennai Metropolitan Transport Corporation, I decided to pass the money out through the people in the bus to the conductor. This should not be much of an issue to anybody (I have done it a zillion times myself), but I believe that it was as hazardous a task to the purdah clad ladies standing next to me as moving nuclear waste bare handed. They did not just refuse the help point blank but started murmuring something about men being this-and-that.
I wanted to say, "Err... Who the hell do you think you are anyway?", but decide against my own will to shut up.
I turn towards another man standing next to me hoping he would pass on the money towards the bus conductor but he all that he does is say, "Erangi poi vaangu!" (Get down from the bus and enter via the other entrance and buy the ticket).
Hmm...
Now why didn't I think of that delightfully brilliant idea?
Oh, I know! Coz the bus is moving and there are heavy showers outside!
All this while the conductor was calling out for everyone to buy their tickets from his cosy corner in the bus. Pray tell how I do it? I should maybe wire the gross amount of Rs.2 to your account via the internet?
As I was contemplating what to do, the stop at which I had to alight arrived and needless to say I had to get down and ended up not buying a ticket. I wonder what I did to deserve this kind of treatment today. Or maybe its not me. Maybe Chennaiites are pissed off with Mumbai being awarded the title of "Rudest City". Something that we wanted for ourselves.
I don't completely blame the people in the bus for my inability to buy a ticket but I have to say that they did play a part in it. So should I not feel guilty about not buying the ticket? After all, Mr. PepperBeard didn't right? I can never come to terms with arguments that some people make in the lines of "He did it, right? So why shouldn't I?". I think this logic is just crap.
They say, "Be a Roman in Rome" but I would rather that, "Be a Christian in Rome" if being Christian is the right thing to do. What say you???
As those who have read this post of mine will know, I take a two leg journey back home from the office.
The sudden rain had almost drenched every body at the bus stop and everyone was eager to get into a bus to get away from the rain. Just as I boarded the bus home from the bus stop, a guy with a salt 'n pepper beard jostled for entry into the already crowded bus ahead of me. Polite guy that Scipio is know to be , I let him enter the bus before me.
So here is the situation...
Me - Step 1 of the bus foot-board
Mr. PepperBeard - Step 2 of the foot-board.
Needless to say, I was getting further drenched in the rain, so I requested him to move further up the bus so that I could do the same too. He grumbles that he has to get down at the next stop and so does not want to move in. So I ask him to move aside so that at least I could get into the bus, something that he tries to do grudgingly. I had a laptop with me which was making it rather it cumbersome for me to move around, so I obviously find it a little difficult to get past him... which in turn makes him grumble further. I was starting to get pissed off a bit myself. Alright buddy! Let me get the facts right here...
1. You rudely jostled past me.
2. You refuse to move in so that you could get down at the next stop.
3. You don't care about buying a ticket either.
In spite of all this it is me who ended up irritating you???
He left the bus (and hopefully my life too) at the next stop, but there was further more to come...
It would be an understatement to say that the bus was crowded. Tightly packed would be a better description of the situation. I had entered the front end of the bus and there was no way I could have moved all the way down the bus to get the ticket. So as is the unwritten rule of the Chennai Metropolitan Transport Corporation, I decided to pass the money out through the people in the bus to the conductor. This should not be much of an issue to anybody (I have done it a zillion times myself), but I believe that it was as hazardous a task to the purdah clad ladies standing next to me as moving nuclear waste bare handed. They did not just refuse the help point blank but started murmuring something about men being this-and-that.
I wanted to say, "Err... Who the hell do you think you are anyway?", but decide against my own will to shut up.
I turn towards another man standing next to me hoping he would pass on the money towards the bus conductor but he all that he does is say, "Erangi poi vaangu!" (Get down from the bus and enter via the other entrance and buy the ticket).
Hmm...
Now why didn't I think of that delightfully brilliant idea?
Oh, I know! Coz the bus is moving and there are heavy showers outside!
All this while the conductor was calling out for everyone to buy their tickets from his cosy corner in the bus. Pray tell how I do it? I should maybe wire the gross amount of Rs.2 to your account via the internet?
As I was contemplating what to do, the stop at which I had to alight arrived and needless to say I had to get down and ended up not buying a ticket. I wonder what I did to deserve this kind of treatment today. Or maybe its not me. Maybe Chennaiites are pissed off with Mumbai being awarded the title of "Rudest City". Something that we wanted for ourselves.
I don't completely blame the people in the bus for my inability to buy a ticket but I have to say that they did play a part in it. So should I not feel guilty about not buying the ticket? After all, Mr. PepperBeard didn't right? I can never come to terms with arguments that some people make in the lines of "He did it, right? So why shouldn't I?". I think this logic is just crap.
They say, "Be a Roman in Rome" but I would rather that, "Be a Christian in Rome" if being Christian is the right thing to do. What say you???
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
No dramatic titles.
I write this post as the tragedy of serial blasts in Mumbai unfolds.
Yet another act of terrorism. Numerous dead.
I am not going to do an analysis of the incident...
As a person most of whose relatives are in Mumbai, I know how worried people all around the country are right now for their dear ones in Mumbai. In fact, my uncle traveled on the ill fated 0644 Slow Local to Borivali but alighted at Dadar and was lucky to get out of this unscratched.
I reiterate. No analysis. No blame game.
At this moment my heart is with those who lost their loved ones in this tragedy. I hope they gather the strength to endure this pain.
Signing off.
Update:
Take a look at the comments section here. So much hate. Most of them are expats too.It truly is depressing.
Updated Again:
Here is a very commendable piece of work done by a bunch of bloggers. The right kind of reaction to such a situation.
Link via Dhoomketu.
Amazing, how both the above updates are reactions to the same event and yet absolutely different from one another.
Yet another act of terrorism. Numerous dead.
I am not going to do an analysis of the incident...
As a person most of whose relatives are in Mumbai, I know how worried people all around the country are right now for their dear ones in Mumbai. In fact, my uncle traveled on the ill fated 0644 Slow Local to Borivali but alighted at Dadar and was lucky to get out of this unscratched.
I reiterate. No analysis. No blame game.
At this moment my heart is with those who lost their loved ones in this tragedy. I hope they gather the strength to endure this pain.
Signing off.
Update:
Take a look at the comments section here. So much hate. Most of them are expats too.It truly is depressing.
Updated Again:
Here is a very commendable piece of work done by a bunch of bloggers. The right kind of reaction to such a situation.
Link via Dhoomketu.
Amazing, how both the above updates are reactions to the same event and yet absolutely different from one another.
Monday, July 10, 2006
The attack of the evil 'comment' Bots...
I fail to comprehend why people have word verification on their blogs comment section...
The original idea to have word verification is to make sure that only human users and not some automated program uses the web page. Hence these are used during email registration ,file download etc.
But why on earth use it in blogs? I know that some of you will comment that there are bots roaming cyberspace and soliciting people by commenting on their blogs, but how big is this menace to warrant such stringent measures? I know of a blog where the word verification extends upto eight... read my keys... E-I-G-H-T letters. Not just bots... even real and very very human readers will not comment on your blog in such cases.
Here is the latest example of what I had to endure...
Forget the bots... even Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking working together won't be able to comprehend this word.
Please! Let's keep life simple. Even if you need word verification in your blog, keep it down to three letters.
**************************************************
This was a public service announcement made by Scipio's "Let Clean up the Blogosphere" Foundation
**************************************************
The original idea to have word verification is to make sure that only human users and not some automated program uses the web page. Hence these are used during email registration ,file download etc.
But why on earth use it in blogs? I know that some of you will comment that there are bots roaming cyberspace and soliciting people by commenting on their blogs, but how big is this menace to warrant such stringent measures? I know of a blog where the word verification extends upto eight... read my keys... E-I-G-H-T letters. Not just bots... even real and very very human readers will not comment on your blog in such cases.
Here is the latest example of what I had to endure...
Forget the bots... even Albert Einstein and Stephen Hawking working together won't be able to comprehend this word.
Please! Let's keep life simple. Even if you need word verification in your blog, keep it down to three letters.
**************************************************
This was a public service announcement made by Scipio's "Let Clean up the Blogosphere" Foundation
**************************************************
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Haar Ki Jeet and A Masala Experience
This is a post of two Stories.
One of them is fiction while the other is a true flesh and blood one.
Fact
Of course, the true story involves me. It happened to me during the middle of this week in I would like to describe as a "Masala Experience". I call it a masala experience in tribute to the great masala genre of movies here in India. It has a mix of dramatic elements like anger, happiness, frustration and a feeling of stupidity like any faithful Indian Masala movie.
Now... now... I know what your naughty mind is thinking, but sorry... there are no wet saree dances or item numbers here.
Date: June 28 2006, Wednesday
Location: A bus stop here in Chennai.
Just as I reached the bus stop on my way home from the office (I undertake a 2 leg journey everyday to reach home), I noticed that some lady was lying face down at the bus stop. She looked 50 something and was dressed in a simple middle class manner. It was quite clear that she had fallen unconcious right there on the bus stop while waiting for a bus or maybe even the worse had happened.
So many people were waiting at the bus stop (around 10+) but as far as they were concerned, she didn't seem to exist. I felt a feeling of revulsion towards those standing there doing nothing... if it were some guy, then I can partially comprehend the public's callousness, but this is an old lady for Christ's sake! I enquired to the people standing there, but none of them seemed to know what had happened to her or why she was unconcious.
I decided to take things in my own hands. I bought a packet of drinking water from a nearby petty shop and revived the lady from her unconciousness. My enquiries about her seemed to lead nowhere. She couldn't even clearly remember her address. Oh! Oh... looked like Alzheimer's, I thought...
On further prompting, she murmured some XYZ location as her address. I then set about requesting one of the people standing out there to help me get her home for she had started complaining of severe pain in her ankle. No one was interested in coming forward. At last a guy (probably a student) volunteered to help me. Was I relieved or what... for I could never had got her home myself. I felt a tinge of happiness to see that not everyone was indifferent towards other's sufferings.
So the next task was to get an autorickshaw to take her home. This task as fellow Chennaiites may know is far from easy. Every other auto that stopped refused us a journey when we explained it's purpose. It was pretty much like the kind of callousness that you would expect to see in any Indian movie where the taxi drivers refuse to help people who have just suffered an accident. I was getting angrier by the moment... and while I was trying to get an auto, student-guy was trying to fish out more information from the lady.
At last an auto driver agreed to help us... I had so far not touched the lady or moved in a close distance to her, but as myself and the auto driver bent down to help her to her feet, I smelled alcohol. Great! The next thing that was needed I need was a drunk auto driver...
Just as we were walking the lady to the auto, the driver enquired her about her home. Now she named some other location ABC. Just as I was thinking that this was getting harder, the auto driver stopped on his tracks and said to me,
"Sir, this woman is drunk."
What the....??!! He then ordered the woman to blow air, and as I leaned closer to the woman's face, sure enough I could smell the strong smell of spirit. It was the woman and not the driver who was drunk!!
I cannot describe that moment enough to you guys... I was angry as hell with the woman. I was relieved that I did not have to get further mixed up in this mess. I also felt stupid all of a sudden. I lashed at the woman almost immediately with very strong words and told her to go to hell and let go of her hand. I couldn't care less as to what happened to her now. Probably even the ankle pain bit that she talked about was just a drama. Just as I was starting to feel embarassed, a bus arrived. It was the one I had to board to go home. I immediately hopped into it and left the place.
End of Narration.
Fiction
This short story that I am going to talk about now is relevant to both the title of this post and my above experience.
The story that I am going to narrate is "Haar Ki Jeet" (Victory in Defeat). It is a short story by Mushi Premchand that I remember from my middle school days. Alright. Let me give you a summary of the story.
Baba Bharthi is a monk who lives in a village temple serving the temple and the people in the village. His only worldly possession is his horse Heera which is indeed a real fine animal. The horse is pretty famous in the neighbouring areas and one day the beautiful animal is noticed by Khadga Singh, the infamous dacoit. He is blown away by the beauty of the animal and desparately tries to buy the animal from Baba Bharthi. When the Baba refuses to sell, he threatens the Baba with dire consequences and leaves.
A few months later, as the Baba goes riding on his beloved Heera, he notices a crippled guy on the road who seems to have a lot of trouble walking. He begs Baba for a ride into the village. Moved by the guy's plight Baba helps him onto the horse. As soon as he is firmly up on the horse, the cripple pushes the Baba away. It turns out that the cripple is none other than Khadga Singh in disguise. He tells the Baba that since he is in possesion of the horse it belongs to him. He also warns the Baba not to try searching for the horse.
Just as he is leaving, Baba tells that he can indeed have the horse but also requests Khadga Singh not to discuss the episode with anyone else lest people lose faith in cripples and other people in need and refuse them help citing this incident as an example. Moved by this noble thought, Khadga Singh returns the horse back to Baba Bharthi.
End of story #2
As soon as I had left the lady at the stop and boarded the bus, I remembered this story. Just as Baba Bharthi said, would I ever be moved so much once again when I see some lady/guy unconcious on the road? I don't know.
What about you? What will be your reaction to such an incident?
PS: Guys... Please don't think "Unnakku kozhuppu da". What would you do in such situations?
One of them is fiction while the other is a true flesh and blood one.
Fact
Of course, the true story involves me. It happened to me during the middle of this week in I would like to describe as a "Masala Experience". I call it a masala experience in tribute to the great masala genre of movies here in India. It has a mix of dramatic elements like anger, happiness, frustration and a feeling of stupidity like any faithful Indian Masala movie.
Now... now... I know what your naughty mind is thinking, but sorry... there are no wet saree dances or item numbers here.
Date: June 28 2006, Wednesday
Location: A bus stop here in Chennai.
Just as I reached the bus stop on my way home from the office (I undertake a 2 leg journey everyday to reach home), I noticed that some lady was lying face down at the bus stop. She looked 50 something and was dressed in a simple middle class manner. It was quite clear that she had fallen unconcious right there on the bus stop while waiting for a bus or maybe even the worse had happened.
So many people were waiting at the bus stop (around 10+) but as far as they were concerned, she didn't seem to exist. I felt a feeling of revulsion towards those standing there doing nothing... if it were some guy, then I can partially comprehend the public's callousness, but this is an old lady for Christ's sake! I enquired to the people standing there, but none of them seemed to know what had happened to her or why she was unconcious.
I decided to take things in my own hands. I bought a packet of drinking water from a nearby petty shop and revived the lady from her unconciousness. My enquiries about her seemed to lead nowhere. She couldn't even clearly remember her address. Oh! Oh... looked like Alzheimer's, I thought...
On further prompting, she murmured some XYZ location as her address. I then set about requesting one of the people standing out there to help me get her home for she had started complaining of severe pain in her ankle. No one was interested in coming forward. At last a guy (probably a student) volunteered to help me. Was I relieved or what... for I could never had got her home myself. I felt a tinge of happiness to see that not everyone was indifferent towards other's sufferings.
So the next task was to get an autorickshaw to take her home. This task as fellow Chennaiites may know is far from easy. Every other auto that stopped refused us a journey when we explained it's purpose. It was pretty much like the kind of callousness that you would expect to see in any Indian movie where the taxi drivers refuse to help people who have just suffered an accident. I was getting angrier by the moment... and while I was trying to get an auto, student-guy was trying to fish out more information from the lady.
At last an auto driver agreed to help us... I had so far not touched the lady or moved in a close distance to her, but as myself and the auto driver bent down to help her to her feet, I smelled alcohol. Great! The next thing that was needed I need was a drunk auto driver...
Just as we were walking the lady to the auto, the driver enquired her about her home. Now she named some other location ABC. Just as I was thinking that this was getting harder, the auto driver stopped on his tracks and said to me,
"Sir, this woman is drunk."
What the....??!! He then ordered the woman to blow air, and as I leaned closer to the woman's face, sure enough I could smell the strong smell of spirit. It was the woman and not the driver who was drunk!!
I cannot describe that moment enough to you guys... I was angry as hell with the woman. I was relieved that I did not have to get further mixed up in this mess. I also felt stupid all of a sudden. I lashed at the woman almost immediately with very strong words and told her to go to hell and let go of her hand. I couldn't care less as to what happened to her now. Probably even the ankle pain bit that she talked about was just a drama. Just as I was starting to feel embarassed, a bus arrived. It was the one I had to board to go home. I immediately hopped into it and left the place.
End of Narration.
Fiction
This short story that I am going to talk about now is relevant to both the title of this post and my above experience.
The story that I am going to narrate is "Haar Ki Jeet" (Victory in Defeat). It is a short story by Mushi Premchand that I remember from my middle school days. Alright. Let me give you a summary of the story.
Baba Bharthi is a monk who lives in a village temple serving the temple and the people in the village. His only worldly possession is his horse Heera which is indeed a real fine animal. The horse is pretty famous in the neighbouring areas and one day the beautiful animal is noticed by Khadga Singh, the infamous dacoit. He is blown away by the beauty of the animal and desparately tries to buy the animal from Baba Bharthi. When the Baba refuses to sell, he threatens the Baba with dire consequences and leaves.
A few months later, as the Baba goes riding on his beloved Heera, he notices a crippled guy on the road who seems to have a lot of trouble walking. He begs Baba for a ride into the village. Moved by the guy's plight Baba helps him onto the horse. As soon as he is firmly up on the horse, the cripple pushes the Baba away. It turns out that the cripple is none other than Khadga Singh in disguise. He tells the Baba that since he is in possesion of the horse it belongs to him. He also warns the Baba not to try searching for the horse.
Just as he is leaving, Baba tells that he can indeed have the horse but also requests Khadga Singh not to discuss the episode with anyone else lest people lose faith in cripples and other people in need and refuse them help citing this incident as an example. Moved by this noble thought, Khadga Singh returns the horse back to Baba Bharthi.
End of story #2
As soon as I had left the lady at the stop and boarded the bus, I remembered this story. Just as Baba Bharthi said, would I ever be moved so much once again when I see some lady/guy unconcious on the road? I don't know.
What about you? What will be your reaction to such an incident?
PS: Guys... Please don't think "Unnakku kozhuppu da". What would you do in such situations?
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