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?
Monday, June 26, 2006
Weirdness Personified
I have been tagged by Anu to blog 6 weird things about me.
Wait a minute! Almost everything about me is weird... wellll.... some of those things would be defined by psychiatrists as borderline psychotic, but anyways, that should probably be in a different post.
So here are six shining examples of my weirdness for you to savor...
1. I have this habit of correcting people when they make mistakes say, like in describing some fact or pronouncing a word wrong. Latest example... see in the comments section of the post where Anu tagged me. Sometimes this gets plain annoying for some people.
2. I chew stapler pins :)
Wait! Wait! Wait... before you start throwing stones at me and calling me a freak... I only chew them but I never eat them. I have no idea how I picked up this habit... My guess is that I picked it from that "Guiness Records" TV show we had in those olden days remember? I was particularly impressed by this cool guy who entered the record books for eating his way through everthing from TVs to Cycles to even Cars. Just trying to emulate his greatness I guess :P
3. I eat a lot. I eat when I am very happy. I eat whenever I am sad. So what's so weird about that, you might ask... I don't know... may be the fact that for most people food is a source of sensation and emotion, to me it acts as the opposite. It numbs me by making my brain go dead.
Oh! and another important source of my food weirdness is that I never put on weight no matter what my food habits. I always weigh around a cool, lean 60 kilos. I know that some may consider this a boon but it ain't so for me.
4. I am erratic. No, No... That's e-r-r-A-t-i-c. I am very erratic in everything I do. Right from the exams I write to the games I play. One day Scipio plays Table Tennis in office like there is no tommorrow, while the very next day I am beaten by every Tom, Dick and Harry in office. Oh, the agony!
5. Man, if there is one snack which I consider without doubt to be the Devil's fruit, it is these guys...
Wait a minute! Almost everything about me is weird... wellll.... some of those things would be defined by psychiatrists as borderline psychotic, but anyways, that should probably be in a different post.
So here are six shining examples of my weirdness for you to savor...
1. I have this habit of correcting people when they make mistakes say, like in describing some fact or pronouncing a word wrong. Latest example... see in the comments section of the post where Anu tagged me. Sometimes this gets plain annoying for some people.
2. I chew stapler pins :)
Wait! Wait! Wait... before you start throwing stones at me and calling me a freak... I only chew them but I never eat them. I have no idea how I picked up this habit... My guess is that I picked it from that "Guiness Records" TV show we had in those olden days remember? I was particularly impressed by this cool guy who entered the record books for eating his way through everthing from TVs to Cycles to even Cars. Just trying to emulate his greatness I guess :P
3. I eat a lot. I eat when I am very happy. I eat whenever I am sad. So what's so weird about that, you might ask... I don't know... may be the fact that for most people food is a source of sensation and emotion, to me it acts as the opposite. It numbs me by making my brain go dead.
Oh! and another important source of my food weirdness is that I never put on weight no matter what my food habits. I always weigh around a cool, lean 60 kilos. I know that some may consider this a boon but it ain't so for me.
4. I am erratic. No, No... That's e-r-r-A-t-i-c. I am very erratic in everything I do. Right from the exams I write to the games I play. One day Scipio plays Table Tennis in office like there is no tommorrow, while the very next day I am beaten by every Tom, Dick and Harry in office. Oh, the agony!
5. Man, if there is one snack which I consider without doubt to be the Devil's fruit, it is these guys...
Pringles Chips! They are more addictive that Cocaine, Cigarettes, Caffeine and Chocolates put together. If I could have just saved the money I spend on these wickedly tasty things, I would probably driving to office in a Hyndai Santro today.
Fact: I am eating the Jalapeno flavored one as I write this post.
6. I can almost never complete the last chapter of any book I read. Be it Fiction, Non-Fiction or Techonology books, once I have reached the last chapter of the book, I have to fight the urge to close the book and throw it into oblivion .
7. Since you have been patient enough to reach up to here, you get a bonus weird fact about me. It is a small bit of weirdness. So I think I shall call it a 'weirdlet'.
I AM FREAKIN' SCARED OF HEIGHTS. Full Stop.
I hereby tag Ram, Iday, Sunil, Kart and GreenSatya to carry this noble beacon of weirdness forward into the future.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Don't Worry... Be happy
Is your boss angry with you today?
Have you been fighting with your wife today?
Really feeling the blues today?
In spite of all this, if you are an Englishman, there is no way you could feel depressed today...
After all, today is the happiest day of the year (well, atleast according to the BBC).
Have you been fighting with your wife today?
Really feeling the blues today?
In spite of all this, if you are an Englishman, there is no way you could feel depressed today...
After all, today is the happiest day of the year (well, atleast according to the BBC).
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Some good books...
Next time you are in a mood to read a good book but can't make up your mind as to which one to read, these lists... the Time Magazine and Modern Library's compilation of the 100 best novels may be of some help.
I am nowhere close to reading even a decent number of books from the list, but the ones that I have indeed read feature among my personal favorites. So I guess that the other novels would be just as enjoyable.
I am nowhere close to reading even a decent number of books from the list, but the ones that I have indeed read feature among my personal favorites. So I guess that the other novels would be just as enjoyable.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Reality check...
...that's exactly what today's AIMCATs have been for me. Attended the exam with NIL prep, but ended up answering around 60 Qs. Just as I was getting confident, the lady in charge distributed the keys...
Guess what??
Me got single digit, you read it right the first time, single digit in the DI section. I did not have the heart to look into the other sections. I am sure that my performance in VA would have been decent but QA is definitely not one of my strong points.
I don't want to bore the few readers of my blog with posts about my everyday sufferings. I guess the blog is already boring in its current form. This is hopefully my only rambling about my prep. I may write more about CAT but only unless it adds some value to the readers.
I would love to write more stuff about other things (of which there are quite a few lately), but with the Sword of Damocles viz. my office project hanging above my head right now, I will have to switch off my personal laptop and switch on the office laptop for I have quite a lot of work to do.
Ciao. Hopefully I shall be adding more posts later this week.
Guess what??
Me got single digit, you read it right the first time, single digit in the DI section. I did not have the heart to look into the other sections. I am sure that my performance in VA would have been decent but QA is definitely not one of my strong points.
I don't want to bore the few readers of my blog with posts about my everyday sufferings. I guess the blog is already boring in its current form. This is hopefully my only rambling about my prep. I may write more about CAT but only unless it adds some value to the readers.
I would love to write more stuff about other things (of which there are quite a few lately), but with the Sword of Damocles viz. my office project hanging above my head right now, I will have to switch off my personal laptop and switch on the office laptop for I have quite a lot of work to do.
Ciao. Hopefully I shall be adding more posts later this week.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Men In Blue win the FIFA World Cup
India winning the FIFA World Cup?
Astounded??!!
So was I initially, but this Mission Impossible 4 is not a hallucination caused by snorting coke alongside Rahul Mahajan. Indeed, this pipe dream can become a reality if only the global order can be tweaked a little bit here and there. Not making too much sense am I? Let me explain...
Day: Wednesday, June 07.
Time: 7.00 AM.
Location: Somewhere in Chennai.
After I got up this morning getting ready another day of lazy drudgery at work, I went about the usual ritual of waking myself up by a bathing in cold water. As I went about scrubbing my unmentionables clean, thinking about football ( which my football illiterate mind had been thinking about the game on and off due to all the coverage of the FIFA World Cup ) , I heard some news article about Mandal II blaring on TV...
Suddenly a million grey cells in my brain (which is probably the entire lot of them thingies) went berserk with activity.
It was "The Matrix" moment.
I could see the entire pattern as clearly as Neo did in that dark corridor in some apartment. I realized with a jolt that the entire world has been working against India in one way or the other during sometime in history. I was dumbfounded at the realisation that it was due to this widespread discrimination that India was never a contender for the top tournament on earth. Hence as per India's holy books which are Mandal I and Mandal II, it is about time that these countries let us win the FIFA World Cup by means of compulsory reservation for the Indians in the tournament.
Think I am out of my mind?
Well, you are right about the out-of-my-mind thing, but it is not with respect this post. Let me go about throwing (or rather kicking) the bare facts at you about the discrimination we haved faced from all those football crazed nations thru the aeons... I could provide a writeup about the discrimination that we have had to face from every other nation but that would make this post the longest one in the blogosphere which is why I am going to restrict myself to only those 7 nations which have won the FIFA World Cup so far. Here goes...
England - For 200 years (or was it more?) we faced endless discrimination from you. So what if you brought democracy to India. It does not matter if you abolished Sati or gave us lovely Victorian Buildings to admire at either. The fact remains that inspite of Bhuvan and his team from Champaner winning against Captain Russell's team, you firangis never allowed them any endorsements which could have helped them improve their game. If you wouldn't let us grow in a not-so-popular game like Cricket, it is plain to see that you would have never allowed us to become great footballers. So there.
France - Bon Jourrrrrrr! You Cheese Eatin' Surrender Monkeys (audio clip here). J'accuse!
Did you discriminate against us in fashion?
Naah... your clothes look tacky anyway.
Food?
No way, spicy Andhra food is the greatest culinary delight in the world.
The crime of discrimintion leveled against you is Pondicherry. That's right, Pondicherry. Well, first you Frenchies committed the blasphemy having constructed a perfectly planned city in India. But Horror of Horrors... you made sure that it ended up being (and still remains) a CLEAN city too. A clean city in India! Oh, the pain that we have had to endure all these ages due to this. This singular reason must have made you hang your heads in shame and hand over the '98 FIFA Cup directly to the Indian Embassy in Paris.
Argentina - Argentina, I really haven't got any really accusations against you, but unfortunately you are geographically close to Brazil, in fact sharing your border with them. Hence you are guilty by association. Sorry... but that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Astounded??!!
So was I initially, but this Mission Impossible 4 is not a hallucination caused by snorting coke alongside Rahul Mahajan. Indeed, this pipe dream can become a reality if only the global order can be tweaked a little bit here and there. Not making too much sense am I? Let me explain...
Day: Wednesday, June 07.
Time: 7.00 AM.
Location: Somewhere in Chennai.
After I got up this morning getting ready another day of lazy drudgery at work, I went about the usual ritual of waking myself up by a bathing in cold water. As I went about scrubbing my unmentionables clean, thinking about football ( which my football illiterate mind had been thinking about the game on and off due to all the coverage of the FIFA World Cup ) , I heard some news article about Mandal II blaring on TV...
Suddenly a million grey cells in my brain (which is probably the entire lot of them thingies) went berserk with activity.
It was "The Matrix" moment.
I could see the entire pattern as clearly as Neo did in that dark corridor in some apartment. I realized with a jolt that the entire world has been working against India in one way or the other during sometime in history. I was dumbfounded at the realisation that it was due to this widespread discrimination that India was never a contender for the top tournament on earth. Hence as per India's holy books which are Mandal I and Mandal II, it is about time that these countries let us win the FIFA World Cup by means of compulsory reservation for the Indians in the tournament.
Think I am out of my mind?
Well, you are right about the out-of-my-mind thing, but it is not with respect this post. Let me go about throwing (or rather kicking) the bare facts at you about the discrimination we haved faced from all those football crazed nations thru the aeons... I could provide a writeup about the discrimination that we have had to face from every other nation but that would make this post the longest one in the blogosphere which is why I am going to restrict myself to only those 7 nations which have won the FIFA World Cup so far. Here goes...
England - For 200 years (or was it more?) we faced endless discrimination from you. So what if you brought democracy to India. It does not matter if you abolished Sati or gave us lovely Victorian Buildings to admire at either. The fact remains that inspite of Bhuvan and his team from Champaner winning against Captain Russell's team, you firangis never allowed them any endorsements which could have helped them improve their game. If you wouldn't let us grow in a not-so-popular game like Cricket, it is plain to see that you would have never allowed us to become great footballers. So there.
France - Bon Jourrrrrrr! You Cheese Eatin' Surrender Monkeys (audio clip here). J'accuse!Did you discriminate against us in fashion?
Naah... your clothes look tacky anyway.
Food?
No way, spicy Andhra food is the greatest culinary delight in the world.
The crime of discrimintion leveled against you is Pondicherry. That's right, Pondicherry. Well, first you Frenchies committed the blasphemy having constructed a perfectly planned city in India. But Horror of Horrors... you made sure that it ended up being (and still remains) a CLEAN city too. A clean city in India! Oh, the pain that we have had to endure all these ages due to this. This singular reason must have made you hang your heads in shame and hand over the '98 FIFA Cup directly to the Indian Embassy in Paris.
Germany - Ah! The original Aryans supremacists. You guys are the sneaky ones aren't ya? You Germans made sure that you started discrimination against us 2000 years ago by sending your Aryan Brahmins to subjugate us.Now thanks to you we are caught in a never ending spiral of protests due to this. Of course this rift that you created does help many political parties nowadays to consolidate their vote-banks but that is just small change compared to what you gave us. If Germans really are the stiff upper lipped gentlemen you portray yourselves to be, your men oughta score self goals against themselves if you meet us in the finals, in order to expect any forgiveness from us.
Brazil - The Brazilians are the simplest to explain away really. The fact that they simply hog the football limelight wherever they go works against them. As if it were not enough that they have won the cup 5 times, every major football club simply needs to have a Brazilian star. As per Mandal I, all Institutions and offices were filled with upper castes due to the discrimination against the other castes. Analogously, Brazilians form the football elite due to the fact that they discriminate against all of us. I rest my case.
Argentina - Argentina, I really haven't got any really accusations against you, but unfortunately you are geographically close to Brazil, in fact sharing your border with them. Hence you are guilty by association. Sorry... but that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Italy - Indians hate Italians. Wanna know why? It is a wide known fact (or atleast the rumour is famous) that Italian men are endowed with huge manhood. Now this pisses off the average sized Indian male so much that we cannot concentrate on our sports no more. This has adversly affected our chances of winning any matches at all during the Cup qualifiers.
Uruguay - Err... Ahh... Let me see... What can I say? Umm... Scratch! Scratch! For starters I don't like the name of your country. Uruguay? Yech... It sounds like the word for "Oh! Its melting" in my native tongue Tamil. And what kind of national capital would have a funny name like Montevideo? More seriously though, of all the nations I accuse you guys (Uruguayans?) the most. It was during your 1950 FIFA World Cup that Indians were disqualified due to our wish to play barefoot, never to set foot in any World Cup Stadium agains. You people may argue that it was FIFA that disqualified us but since you were the hosts I hold you guys responsible for this discrimination. Verdict: Guilty.
End Verdict: As you can see, the list of discrimination is endless. I could go on and on but I wish to stop here with an appeal to our political establishment to ensure with the help of the UN that atleast during the next World Cup our team is given a free ticket to the finals and also the additional advantage that the opposing team needs to play with the legs of pairs of players being tied together as in a three legged race.
PS: I know that some of you guys out there may accuse me of "internalizing" from that omnipresent forwarded email about "Reservations In the Indian Cricket Team". In fact it hit me halfway through this post too, but what I really wanted to present was a tongue-in-cheek way of justifying why Indians are nobodys in the world of football.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Rock Bands and Controversies
I like Rock music.
This would have been evident to those of you who have seen my profile.
I especially love the Heavy Metal and Gothic genres. My love for rock music stems from the fascination as to ...
"Wow! Here are guys who can actually make you listen to noise... and then have you screaming back for more".
So when Lordi, a Finnish Rock Band won the Eurovision song contest this year, it caught my attention. For those of you who don't know what is Eurovision, consider it a kind of musical analogue of Champions League where countries all around Europe send their music artists to battle it out for the top honours. Their win was especially amusing to me because I have never been able to correlate European music with rock (except for German bands). Maybe Robbie Wiiliams, Spice Girls, Boy Bands et al. are to be blamed for this. :)
Ok. Me is diverging from the my root cause for this post, viz...
What is it with rock bands and controversies?
The first argument to support the above question would be that the origin of rock bands can usually be traced back to the rebellious streak of the members, but I am not talking about the truly rebellious ones like Rage Against The Machine, Nirvana and others...
I am talking about those bands which skirt controversies as a gimmick. Take a look at Lordi themselves.
This would have been evident to those of you who have seen my profile.
I especially love the Heavy Metal and Gothic genres. My love for rock music stems from the fascination as to ...
"Wow! Here are guys who can actually make you listen to noise... and then have you screaming back for more".
So when Lordi, a Finnish Rock Band won the Eurovision song contest this year, it caught my attention. For those of you who don't know what is Eurovision, consider it a kind of musical analogue of Champions League where countries all around Europe send their music artists to battle it out for the top honours. Their win was especially amusing to me because I have never been able to correlate European music with rock (except for German bands). Maybe Robbie Wiiliams, Spice Girls, Boy Bands et al. are to be blamed for this. :)
Ok. Me is diverging from the my root cause for this post, viz...
What is it with rock bands and controversies?
The first argument to support the above question would be that the origin of rock bands can usually be traced back to the rebellious streak of the members, but I am not talking about the truly rebellious ones like Rage Against The Machine, Nirvana and others...
I am talking about those bands which skirt controversies as a gimmick. Take a look at Lordi themselves.
Firstly, I think they are an overrated band. Their music is very mediocre. Second, I am fine with all the monster costumes and stuff. I accept this gimmick coz that's their USP. But take a look at lyrics of the song "Hard Rock Hallelujah" (which won them the Eurovision Contest )...
Not quite an angel,
Or the one that fell
When you actually listen to the song (which incidentally borrows heavily from 70s heavy metal), it sounds more like...
Not quite an angel,
The one that fell.
Clearly these guys are skirting controversy by try to say that they are devils. They tease people with their lyrics but do not accept that they are truly rebellious. That sucks.
This kind of lyrics reminds me of the iconic song "Another brick on the wall" by Pink Floyd. When accused of poisoning kids minds against education with the lines...
We don't need no education.
They wriggled out of it by saying that it meant that, that they were talking against "no education" and not trying to wean the kids away from education. What wimps!!
I have only this to say to such rock bands...
"C'mon kids. If you are truly rebellious take responsibility for it"
Oh! And while digging up information about Lordi, I came across this link by the New York Times. One of the hilarious accusations against Lordi was...
Rumors even circulated that Lordi members were agents sent by President Vladimir
Putin to destabilize Finland before a Russian coup — an explanation for their
refusal to take off their freakish masks in public.
It is amusing to see that India and Pakistan are not the the only ones to suffer from the "foreign hand" syndrome. :)
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Anarchy. V is Thy Name
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...
Ever sung the above rhyme in Kindergarten? Unlikely, unless you are from England. This is the famous rhyme about the Gunpowder Plot, which is probably the first terrorist act in history.
The rhyme is sung with this man in mind.
He is Guy Fawkes (who incidentally gave English the common noun "Guy"). This was one mondo cool guy who attempted to blow up the entire English Parliment way back in 1605!!! Surely he must have been one of Osama's inspirations. :) Here is the link to the origin of the rhyme for the interested souls.
I can already here some of you cribbing, "Hey dude! What's with the history lessons?"
It has all got to do with the continuing changes that I have been doing to my blog. This one is about the new image that I have added to my profile. Take a look at the comic book, oops... graphic novel (don't worry, its a safe link :D ) cover below,
I guess now you know the source of my profile image. This is the graphics novel V for Vendetta where the protagonist is a guy who wears a "Guy Fawkes" mask throughout the story. This is a story set in a dystopian future where a tyrannical regime rules over England. Dystopia had been the mood of my readings of late with 1984, Animal Farm and the likes.
Once I had read the synopsis of the novel V for... , I was hooked.
I really, really liked the way this guy (who just goes by the name V) is portrayed.
No. He is not a hero. He is not the all-good-pure-heart saccharine warrior. Here is a guy who has no qualms at killing those who oppose him. Here is a guy hell bent on revenge.
To me he is the ultimate anarchist.
The one redeeming thing about V which got me is that he doesn't care taking on the whole system in order to get his way. I am sure that some of you are snickering about this being done by Kollywood movie heros for ages, but the difference between 'Captain' Vijaykanth and V is that V has no notions of infallibility of his character. He really is not the nicest guy to know.
Don't get me wrong, I ain't no rebel. I usually stick to tried and tested methods, but I have been feeling mutinous of late for no good reason. I don't seem to believe in the inherent goodness or evilness of any system anymore. I have been dissatified with the entire machinery in the recent past. May be this is the reason why I chose this image to represent me in my profile...
But then I may have just wanted to look cool. :)
Anyways the point here is that this is my profile image and you'd better get used to the image of a masked guy with an eternal plastic smile on his face. :)
Moving back to the original Guy Fawkes, here was an original real life rebel if you have ever seen one. It must have taken a hell-a-lot of guts (not to mention hatred and insanity) to try to blow up the entire parliment. Phew!!
Last point before I signoff. I tried buying the novel but it costs a whopping Rs.825. For all my admiration I could never get myself to pay this amount for a 'comic'. Do any of you guys know where I can get this book second-hand at a much cheaper rate in and around Chennai? If you do please do tell me.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
The clock is ticking...
"So it begins..."
- Théoden, King of Rohan - Right before Battle of Helm's Deep
As many of you might have noticed, I have added two new sidebars.
1. Countdown 2 CAT.
2. Scipio's Fiction.
The second sidebar is a permalink to the pathetic attempt by moi at short story writing, but that is not what this post is about. This post is mainly about the first one.
For those of you who are only familiar with "CAT" as the commonly used name for the species Felis catus...
Welcome to the world of Indian MBAs.
Ask any MBA aspirant in India what CAT means and pat will be the reply... Common Admission Test. The three magic words which is simultaneously every aspirant's greatest nightmare that can in turn lead to their greatest dream...
In India, CAT is big. CAT is PRETTY big.
Considered one of the most competitive exams in the country, it is the prerequisite test for post graduate studies in the top Management Schools in India (which by the way, to me can only means the IIMs). It is said that only the top 0.5 percentile of those who make it to the next level of selection. Sure, cracking CAT is not the only criterion for admission into these colleges but it definitely is a must for entry into various colleges.
Last year alone around 170,000 competed for around the 1200 seats in the IIMs of which yours' truly was one. My friends say that my performance was not that bad, but hey! It wasn't good enough to get me there.
Alright, enough with the stats already, so let me go back to the sidebar. The clock is a countdown to this year's CAT which falls on November 26th. It is a reminder for me about the upcoming exams.
As you can see, the clock is ticking.
As far as preparations go, do I have a strategy in place?
Nope. Non. Nien. None whatsoever.
At the moment my only strategy is to start preparing start building on the strategy as it happens. OK, I have cribbed enough for the day. Me really has to start preparing now.
PS: The CAT Counter is in JavaScript. Your browser shouldn't have any issues displaying it. If you don't see a countdown timer, do leave a comment.
PS Again: Sorry about the corniness of using the LOTR dailogue on the top of this post. I just love the movie, especially the battle of Helm's Deep :P
- Théoden, King of Rohan - Right before Battle of Helm's Deep
As many of you might have noticed, I have added two new sidebars.
1. Countdown 2 CAT.
2. Scipio's Fiction.
The second sidebar is a permalink to the pathetic attempt by moi at short story writing, but that is not what this post is about. This post is mainly about the first one.
For those of you who are only familiar with "CAT" as the commonly used name for the species Felis catus...
Welcome to the world of Indian MBAs.
Ask any MBA aspirant in India what CAT means and pat will be the reply... Common Admission Test. The three magic words which is simultaneously every aspirant's greatest nightmare that can in turn lead to their greatest dream...
In India, CAT is big. CAT is PRETTY big.
Considered one of the most competitive exams in the country, it is the prerequisite test for post graduate studies in the top Management Schools in India (which by the way, to me can only means the IIMs). It is said that only the top 0.5 percentile of those who make it to the next level of selection. Sure, cracking CAT is not the only criterion for admission into these colleges but it definitely is a must for entry into various colleges.
Last year alone around 170,000 competed for around the 1200 seats in the IIMs of which yours' truly was one. My friends say that my performance was not that bad, but hey! It wasn't good enough to get me there.
Alright, enough with the stats already, so let me go back to the sidebar. The clock is a countdown to this year's CAT which falls on November 26th. It is a reminder for me about the upcoming exams.
As you can see, the clock is ticking.
As far as preparations go, do I have a strategy in place?
Nope. Non. Nien. None whatsoever.
At the moment my only strategy is to start preparing start building on the strategy as it happens. OK, I have cribbed enough for the day. Me really has to start preparing now.
PS: The CAT Counter is in JavaScript. Your browser shouldn't have any issues displaying it. If you don't see a countdown timer, do leave a comment.
PS Again: Sorry about the corniness of using the LOTR dailogue on the top of this post. I just love the movie, especially the battle of Helm's Deep :P
Thursday, May 11, 2006
The Reunion - A not so short story
"A dry Martini, stirred not shaken".
The bartender noted the order with a "You poor guy!" smile. I returned him an "I know." smile. Yet another weekend. Correction. Yet another weekend alone. You see, yours truly isn't exactly Mr.Hitch, the date doctor. The usual "date" that I go out on is to haunt movie theaters in the neighbourhood with my friend Sundar. This particular weekend, he is busy with some work, so I decided "Hey! Why not try hanging out at some of those "in" places like the Athena bar?". Maybe, just maybe I could meet some girls and who knows what could happen next. So far I hadn't been very successful, I could not see any single girls in the bar.
Here I was lost in my own day dreams and just as my drink arrived, I noticed that the bar stool next to me was occupied by a guy. Clean shaven, looking slick with his hair combed back, a bunny pink shirt and a cool earring, he looked just a touch effeminate. Mr.Pink Shirt smiled at me. Being a guy brought up by parents who force feed you with humility and politeness along with Horlicks, I returned his smile.
"Are you alone?", he asked.
Hmm...
"Yes", I replied cautiously, alarm bells ringing in my brain, as I tried to figure out which ear had the earring. It was the left ear and not the right one alright. I relaxed.
"So, do you hang out here frequently?", he asked oblivious to my thoughts."Not really", I replied. "Me neither... Oh! and by the way... I am Krish", he said extending his hand. I shook his hand introducing myself.
He said, "I couldn't help noticing, that you look quite bored. Me and my college buddies, Jesse and Mo are having a reunion of sorts after a long time. I am waiting for them, would you care to join us?".
Jesse? My hopes soared. May be this evening was not lost after all, I could atleast get to meet one girl. "Sure. I don't have any other appointments either. So tell me more about yourself...", I said. "Who me?", asked Krish, "well I work in India... I am into the dairy farm business. I just love dairy products. Especially butter".
"And what does she do?", I enquired, hoping I didn't sound too eager.
"Who?".
"I meant Jesse". At this, he started laughing, "Jesse is a guy", he clarified, "It's the name we gave him from his initials J.C while back in college".
"Oh!", I grinned sheepishly as I downed my first drink and ordered another.
Just as I was recovering from my mini episode of embarrassment, two men arrived at the table. Krish got up and hugged both of them and introduced me to Jesse and Mo. Jesse was a very calm looking guy. Dressed in a suit, it was clear from is accent that he was living abroad, most probably the US. Mo was a more of a sober looking guy. Tall with tanned skin, he sported a trimmed beard.
"Jesse here works out of the US," said Krish as he introduced them, "while Mo works in the middle east. We guys were inseperable back in college."
"And this here is Mr.Single-on-Friday-Night", he said grinning lightheartedly as he introduced me.
After the formal introductions were over, we all ordered a fresh round of drinks. Interestingly, Mo just ordered some lime soda. Seems like he wasn't much of a drinker.
Once the drinks arrived, Krish was complaining to the two guys, that they were late as usual. Mo spoke first, "I started pretty early Krish, but it was so difficult to get here. I got struck in the traffic due to some heavy protests by some Muslim dudes."
"You mean the Mohammed cartoon protests?", I asked as I finished my drink again and ordered another one.
"Yes the very same.", he said, "It the same issue back home too. I just have one thing to say to these dudes... Come on guys, these are just cartoons. Frankly I don't see any problems with the cartoons. I saw them. I actually like those toons. Some tongue in cheek humour keeps everybody's spirits high. It's not as if they harmed anyone by publishing these cartoons. Other than that of course, they were also protesting against good ol' Prez Bush's policies too..."
"Don't even talk about that guy Mo", interjected Jesse. For the first time in the evening, the natural calmness he wore seemed to fade away. "I really hate that guy man. He is such a loser of a Born-Again Christian yaar...", Jesse continued, "You guys know what he said about the invasion of Iraq? Bush said... God told me, George! Go and stop the injustice in Iraq and by God I did it".
"Yeah Right... Looks like God told Bush to go ahead and kill 200,000 people and free Iraq.", he fumed sarcastically, "Maybe he is freeing Iraq of Iraqis... Many of these Christians make me sick man. They spread violence in the name of spreading love. I really hate their holier-than-thou-attitude. Just take look at Hindus. Now those guys are peace loving people "
"Hindus are such peace loving people!", mocked Krish, mimicking Jesse's voice. "Have you guys been following the news lately? Does Vododara. Gujrat. Violence, ring a bell? We will first bulldoze your very old Dargah. If you protest we will go ahead and burn an innocent guy who has nothing to do with your protests coz he is a Muslim too. You know, one should not burn these criminals in revenge. That would be too easy a punishment. Instead they should be slowly cooked in an open tandoor."
He gulped in his drink for pause and started off again, "Do you wanna know how much more peace loving we are? We are so peace loving that we will opress people from our own religion in the name of caste. We have such a planned and structured form of racism in practice you see."
The atmosphere seemed charged with excitement now. I did not seem to exist as far as these guys were concerned. They were too engrossed in their arguments. This was when I noticed something strange.I could see that these guys were very different. I could not place my finger on it exactly but something in the back of my mind was sending me signals that I couldn't interpret.
Soon enough, a calm subsided over them. Mo the-sober-one interrupted them, "Hey Guys! This is not the reason why we came here. This reunion was supposed to be enjoyed right? Just like back in college."
"Ah College! Now that was a place, it must be ages since we had such fun guys", said Jesse, "College was real heaven man...".
"Can't agree more with you Jesse-boy", said Krish cheerfully, "What say we go check out a discotheque and pick up a few girls just like the old days?"
"Wanna join us man? ", he offered, looking at me. Much as I would have liked to meet some girls, the drinks were taking their toll. The last thing I wanted to do was puke on some girl. So I declined their offer.
Just as they bid farewell left, it hit me as to what I felt strange about them. There seemed to be a kind of distinct glow in them.
As they walked across the bar floor, I noticed something else...
Was it me?
Was it the drinks that I had?
Was it the bar lighting?
I could have sworn that they weren't walking. They seemed to be floating over the floor.
END OF STORY
Cross posted here
Update:
Me has got feedback that there are some problems in understanding the story. Here are the full names of the characters ...
Krish - Lord Krishna
Jesse a.k.a J.C - Jesus Christ
Mo - Prophet Mohammed
Read through the story again. Hopefully it should make more sense now.
The bartender noted the order with a "You poor guy!" smile. I returned him an "I know." smile. Yet another weekend. Correction. Yet another weekend alone. You see, yours truly isn't exactly Mr.Hitch, the date doctor. The usual "date" that I go out on is to haunt movie theaters in the neighbourhood with my friend Sundar. This particular weekend, he is busy with some work, so I decided "Hey! Why not try hanging out at some of those "in" places like the Athena bar?". Maybe, just maybe I could meet some girls and who knows what could happen next. So far I hadn't been very successful, I could not see any single girls in the bar.
Here I was lost in my own day dreams and just as my drink arrived, I noticed that the bar stool next to me was occupied by a guy. Clean shaven, looking slick with his hair combed back, a bunny pink shirt and a cool earring, he looked just a touch effeminate. Mr.Pink Shirt smiled at me. Being a guy brought up by parents who force feed you with humility and politeness along with Horlicks, I returned his smile.
"Are you alone?", he asked.
Hmm...
"Yes", I replied cautiously, alarm bells ringing in my brain, as I tried to figure out which ear had the earring. It was the left ear and not the right one alright. I relaxed.
"So, do you hang out here frequently?", he asked oblivious to my thoughts."Not really", I replied. "Me neither... Oh! and by the way... I am Krish", he said extending his hand. I shook his hand introducing myself.
He said, "I couldn't help noticing, that you look quite bored. Me and my college buddies, Jesse and Mo are having a reunion of sorts after a long time. I am waiting for them, would you care to join us?".
Jesse? My hopes soared. May be this evening was not lost after all, I could atleast get to meet one girl. "Sure. I don't have any other appointments either. So tell me more about yourself...", I said. "Who me?", asked Krish, "well I work in India... I am into the dairy farm business. I just love dairy products. Especially butter".
"And what does she do?", I enquired, hoping I didn't sound too eager.
"Who?".
"I meant Jesse". At this, he started laughing, "Jesse is a guy", he clarified, "It's the name we gave him from his initials J.C while back in college".
"Oh!", I grinned sheepishly as I downed my first drink and ordered another.
Just as I was recovering from my mini episode of embarrassment, two men arrived at the table. Krish got up and hugged both of them and introduced me to Jesse and Mo. Jesse was a very calm looking guy. Dressed in a suit, it was clear from is accent that he was living abroad, most probably the US. Mo was a more of a sober looking guy. Tall with tanned skin, he sported a trimmed beard.
"Jesse here works out of the US," said Krish as he introduced them, "while Mo works in the middle east. We guys were inseperable back in college."
"And this here is Mr.Single-on-Friday-Night", he said grinning lightheartedly as he introduced me.
After the formal introductions were over, we all ordered a fresh round of drinks. Interestingly, Mo just ordered some lime soda. Seems like he wasn't much of a drinker.
Once the drinks arrived, Krish was complaining to the two guys, that they were late as usual. Mo spoke first, "I started pretty early Krish, but it was so difficult to get here. I got struck in the traffic due to some heavy protests by some Muslim dudes."
"You mean the Mohammed cartoon protests?", I asked as I finished my drink again and ordered another one.
"Yes the very same.", he said, "It the same issue back home too. I just have one thing to say to these dudes... Come on guys, these are just cartoons. Frankly I don't see any problems with the cartoons. I saw them. I actually like those toons. Some tongue in cheek humour keeps everybody's spirits high. It's not as if they harmed anyone by publishing these cartoons. Other than that of course, they were also protesting against good ol' Prez Bush's policies too..."
"Don't even talk about that guy Mo", interjected Jesse. For the first time in the evening, the natural calmness he wore seemed to fade away. "I really hate that guy man. He is such a loser of a Born-Again Christian yaar...", Jesse continued, "You guys know what he said about the invasion of Iraq? Bush said... God told me, George! Go and stop the injustice in Iraq and by God I did it".
"Yeah Right... Looks like God told Bush to go ahead and kill 200,000 people and free Iraq.", he fumed sarcastically, "Maybe he is freeing Iraq of Iraqis... Many of these Christians make me sick man. They spread violence in the name of spreading love. I really hate their holier-than-thou-attitude. Just take look at Hindus. Now those guys are peace loving people "
"Hindus are such peace loving people!", mocked Krish, mimicking Jesse's voice. "Have you guys been following the news lately? Does Vododara. Gujrat. Violence, ring a bell? We will first bulldoze your very old Dargah. If you protest we will go ahead and burn an innocent guy who has nothing to do with your protests coz he is a Muslim too. You know, one should not burn these criminals in revenge. That would be too easy a punishment. Instead they should be slowly cooked in an open tandoor."
He gulped in his drink for pause and started off again, "Do you wanna know how much more peace loving we are? We are so peace loving that we will opress people from our own religion in the name of caste. We have such a planned and structured form of racism in practice you see."
The atmosphere seemed charged with excitement now. I did not seem to exist as far as these guys were concerned. They were too engrossed in their arguments. This was when I noticed something strange.I could see that these guys were very different. I could not place my finger on it exactly but something in the back of my mind was sending me signals that I couldn't interpret.
Soon enough, a calm subsided over them. Mo the-sober-one interrupted them, "Hey Guys! This is not the reason why we came here. This reunion was supposed to be enjoyed right? Just like back in college."
"Ah College! Now that was a place, it must be ages since we had such fun guys", said Jesse, "College was real heaven man...".
"Can't agree more with you Jesse-boy", said Krish cheerfully, "What say we go check out a discotheque and pick up a few girls just like the old days?"
"Wanna join us man? ", he offered, looking at me. Much as I would have liked to meet some girls, the drinks were taking their toll. The last thing I wanted to do was puke on some girl. So I declined their offer.
Just as they bid farewell left, it hit me as to what I felt strange about them. There seemed to be a kind of distinct glow in them.
As they walked across the bar floor, I noticed something else...
Was it me?
Was it the drinks that I had?
Was it the bar lighting?
I could have sworn that they weren't walking. They seemed to be floating over the floor.
END OF STORY
Cross posted here
Update:
Me has got feedback that there are some problems in understanding the story. Here are the full names of the characters ...
Krish - Lord Krishna
Jesse a.k.a J.C - Jesus Christ
Mo - Prophet Mohammed
Read through the story again. Hopefully it should make more sense now.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
What might have been...
An interesting politacal career came to an end yesterday evening at 4.10 pm with the untimely death of Pramod Mahajan. People shall always be left guessing of what might have been if only...
Irrespective of what his (or my) political affiliations or political ideologies may have been one thing I admire about this guy is that he brought professionalism into election campaigning.
Now moving on to the Sports news in today's bulletin...
Greg Chappell sees new hope for Indian team with Young Turks as the one shown in the below pic.
This is what Grag Chapell has to say about the young star M.S.Pradeep ;)
"Talented players like Mr.Pradeep need to be nurtured instead of being made to stare into stupid TFT monitors and waste time writing code (and blogs). Just notice the excellent foot positioning and the perfect follow through of the bat and you will know what I mean. " :D
Rumour has it that the Australian government has decided to provide him with a green card (no questions asked) for the sole purpose of inducting him into the Australian Cricket Team...
Moving on to reality news now... actually I scored just two runs in the match that we played last weekend, this was one of them. :)
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
The name is Scipio.... Hot Scipio
Bumped into this site which checks your "hot"ness quotient via my friend Iday's Blog.
Here are the results (amidst thunderous applause)...
Yeah... Right... And did I mention that I am loaded with cash too???
Here are the results (amidst thunderous applause)...
| You Are Super Spicy |
 You're a little bit crazy, a little bit naughty, and a whole lot of sexy. You go beyond hot - you set people's senses on fire! |
Yeah... Right... And did I mention that I am loaded with cash too???
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Not just Indian... Tamil in particular.
Many of you must have read about Kavya Vishwanathan... An expat Indian of Tamil origins in the US. Considered a very precocious teenager with a flair for writing, she bagged a contract with a US publishing company for USD 500,000 for her debut novel "How Opal Mehta Got kissed, Got wild and Got a life". The book falls into the genre Young Adult (read Mills and Boons type).
My first thought on reading about this was... Man, Indians are really going places!!! Sure Indians are considered great techies (we know the real truth don't we? :-) ) but we don't have much of a place under the literary sun. There was further fodder for my sub-nationalism as this girl was a "Tamil Ponnu".
Reading further about her I came to know that she had made it to Harvard. Now I was really impressed!!! Then came the interesting twist... When questioned whether she would pursue a literary career, pat came the reply, "Nah!! I wanna pursue my Harvard degree...". Immediately the Sherlock Holmes in me smelled something fishy (I can already hear some of you sneering "Dei... Kathai vidathey da...") :). Alright... alright... my first real thoughts were, "Man this girl is crazy. She is walking away from the prospects of making more money" but then I remembered that she was from Harvard. I concluded that Harvard guys must be like our IITs and IIMs, who blaze through courses and end up starting political parties and starting "Idly Kadais".
Well it turns out that the girl had pilfered (an anti-euphemism for plagiarized) from a book written in 2001. I think this was her way to earn her College Tuition fees. Some have their Million Dollar Homepage to pay through college while others have their Red Paper Clip to buy a house, well our girl Kavya takes the "write a plagiarized book" route which I think that may be a reason why she refused to consider writing another book again.
Finally, I have bumped upon a get rich quick scheme too. I have decided to write a book "How Krish Wrote a Short Story(?), Got screwed, Got scared, and tore down the post". The book falls under the genre Totally Adult. Any takers? :)
My first thought on reading about this was... Man, Indians are really going places!!! Sure Indians are considered great techies (we know the real truth don't we? :-) ) but we don't have much of a place under the literary sun. There was further fodder for my sub-nationalism as this girl was a "Tamil Ponnu".
Reading further about her I came to know that she had made it to Harvard. Now I was really impressed!!! Then came the interesting twist... When questioned whether she would pursue a literary career, pat came the reply, "Nah!! I wanna pursue my Harvard degree...". Immediately the Sherlock Holmes in me smelled something fishy (I can already hear some of you sneering "Dei... Kathai vidathey da...") :). Alright... alright... my first real thoughts were, "Man this girl is crazy. She is walking away from the prospects of making more money" but then I remembered that she was from Harvard. I concluded that Harvard guys must be like our IITs and IIMs, who blaze through courses and end up starting political parties and starting "Idly Kadais".
Well it turns out that the girl had pilfered (an anti-euphemism for plagiarized) from a book written in 2001. I think this was her way to earn her College Tuition fees. Some have their Million Dollar Homepage to pay through college while others have their Red Paper Clip to buy a house, well our girl Kavya takes the "write a plagiarized book" route which I think that may be a reason why she refused to consider writing another book again.
Finally, I have bumped upon a get rich quick scheme too. I have decided to write a book "How Krish Wrote a Short Story(?), Got screwed, Got scared, and tore down the post". The book falls under the genre Totally Adult. Any takers? :)
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