[ and it hasn't even been a month!]
-I enter a superstore, find my way around. As usual, I don't know what I want to buy - I will try to find out what I can buy. After a bit of roaming around, and very little shopping, I seek my way out. And then the trouble begins. The rows are circuitous and that smell of fish and other slimy sea creatures makes me a little dazed. I ask an employee and he seems to only half understand. He points towards the big escalator, and up there I go. Before I get off the escalator, I realise that I have just reached where I was 5 mins back. Then I ask the security guard, and she points me down the same big escalator. I go down. Meet the fellow again, who this time insists that I go UP the same escalator. I try to look around and happen to go near the office area and this makes the fellow nervous. Then he comes near and shows some sign which I take for money. I show him the bill and he apologetically shows me the way. Didn't know 'exit' is not a commonly understood word in Hong Kong.
-I am sleepy in the night, and the weather is warm. I take off my shirt and throw it. In the morning I put a 'Please make up my room' display on the door when I leave. In the evening, I can't find the t-shirt. I do my best looking around. I still can't find it. Then I remember - last night the t shirt landed on top of the lamp. Perhaps there is a signal in Chinese custom to put the clothes you want to throw off on top of your lamp? By the way, I am still looking around.
-You go to an electronic store, looking for a small item. The shopkeeper says 190. You think it is too high a prize, try to bargain. You bring the price to 150, by doing the trick of going away without buying. Even then, you feel suspicious. Next day you look up on ebay and find the quoted price is 70. Can I say more?
-I decide to go to Victoria peak, mostly to click some nice shots of the city and to also complete the ritual - many online tourist websites suggest the peak top as the must-visit place. I go to the ticket counter, and find around a hundred people waiting in queue. Phew. I must wait and that I do. At the top is a great view and a lot of people as I expected. I am not wearing a jacket and suddenly the temperature drops. I decide its time to go back, and go towards the embarking station. Phew. Another line, and this time I just can't seem to find its end. It goes on and on and on. After an hour of waiting, I get into the tram. Simple calculation shows there were more than 400 people in the queue ahead of me. :-O
-I get into a taxi and say, 'Macdonnell road'. The taxi driver gives a knowing nod and speeds up. On and on we go as I see that he keeps ignoring the diversions to the left that I understand must lead to my destination. At what looks like the end of the city ( in India, they put a board saying 'thank you for visiting us' at the end of city limits... here the city limit ends into south china sea) , he seems to want me to get down. I insist I will go to mcdonnell road. he turns around and traverses half of the city and I finally reach my destination. a trip of 20 bucks becomes a 75 dollar trip!
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Purchase of a life time...
When I bought a digital camera 3.5 years back, they weren't such a popular item in apna desh. And they cost a lot. So I was very happy when I got what looked like a great steal. The model was this - seems like a dud by today's standards, but back in those days, when 3MP was the order of the day (like those gmail invitations! ) 3x optical zoom seemed to be indulgent. The 6-7xs were simply out of my purview because they cost a bomb. (Murgee chaap, sivakasi ke bagal ke gaon wala bomb). I must have clicked a couple of thousand photos, then the lens started creating trouble, battery went kapoot. I ditched my cam. Then one fine day, I was gifted a tripod, I bought a new memory card and battery. The lens started working by itself as if the earlier dysfunction was a protest against the miserly 16MB memory card and old batteries. My earlier penchant for photography re-arose. And then I came to HK.
The rest is history. Have bought a Digital SLR and a lens that is as costly as the camera itself. But the results are surprisingly good. And I hope to click better photos from now on.
--update--
I went to the victoria peak on saturday and a temple and flower market on sunday. If there is one point to see HK from, that must be the top of peak. Unfortunately there was so much pollution that visibility was low before sunset. The real view however sets in after the sunset. Its a splendid panoramic scene. Find lots of photos in the usual photoblog. The flower market was a complete riot of colors. Unfortunately, I didn't find the stares and glares of shopkeepers very welcoming. Add to that my stereotype of Chinese people being martial arts experts and you get the picture. I clicked a few though, thanks to the zoom factor in my camera. The temple was also very colorful. Brilliant red juxtaposed with bright yellow. Very eye catching. The priests sang in their native tongue and the whole atmosphere was filled with a religious feeling. I hated that my lens does not have USM (a mechanism for autozoom which is very silent). However, at times the sharp click of the lens makes you feel like a great photographer!
another major update:
I am chachaji now. The tiny angel is a darling of everyone of course. Its a pity I will only get to meet her in mid feb. She will have grown by then!
Another week has come and gone. With an agenda of doing at least something worthwhile this weekend, I didn't feel the luxury of an idyllic weekend. Anyway, it was only great that I managed to do all this considering that I was alone.
I have seen too much crowd here. A little more than Mumbai. Sundays are free for many working women (read: housemaids) and the main streets are bustling with hordes of them. At every traffic light you will find a mass. In weekends, every tourist destination is over crowded. When I was returning from Victoria peak, there were at least 400 people in the queue ahead of me waiting to get into the tram.
The tram by the way, is a technological marvel. It climbs at such a steep angle, you wonder for once if it will fall backwards. Sort of like a roller coaster at considerably slower speed (though faster than those hill queens of india).
Sometimes I wonder if my notions of relationships are skewed. Is it that I seek the element of perfection (sounds so CVish na? :D) ? I mean, I am like an open book. Should I stay that way? Everyone wants their space. Have I ever thought of how much space I occupy? In the physical world, that question has revisited me every time I try my recently-bought jeans that is now too tight. In the mental world, the thought is struck when I see people drawing lines that far outstretch mine. I should probably use the jostling tricks I learnt in Mumbai suburban trains and create some space around me that will be mine. May be I shouldn't always speak my mind. Earlier I used to write diary almost daily but soon the agenda was hijacked (by matters of the heart). I guess I need to confine the darkest thoughts to my diary. The human race doesn't deserve to be tortured by those.
Another weekend has come and gone. It has been 15 days since I landed in Hong Kong. Have enjoyed the comforts, but resented the crowded market place. Liked the taxi ride, hated the noxious smell of dried seafood. It has been a mixed bag - much like life has been.
...
Hoshwalon Ko Khabar Kya
Bekhudi Kya Cheez Hai
...
Hum Labon Se Keh Na Paaye, Unse Haal-E-Dil Kabhi
Aur Woh Samjhe Nahin Ye Khamoshi Kya Cheez Hai
...
The rest is history. Have bought a Digital SLR and a lens that is as costly as the camera itself. But the results are surprisingly good. And I hope to click better photos from now on.
--update--
I went to the victoria peak on saturday and a temple and flower market on sunday. If there is one point to see HK from, that must be the top of peak. Unfortunately there was so much pollution that visibility was low before sunset. The real view however sets in after the sunset. Its a splendid panoramic scene. Find lots of photos in the usual photoblog. The flower market was a complete riot of colors. Unfortunately, I didn't find the stares and glares of shopkeepers very welcoming. Add to that my stereotype of Chinese people being martial arts experts and you get the picture. I clicked a few though, thanks to the zoom factor in my camera. The temple was also very colorful. Brilliant red juxtaposed with bright yellow. Very eye catching. The priests sang in their native tongue and the whole atmosphere was filled with a religious feeling. I hated that my lens does not have USM (a mechanism for autozoom which is very silent). However, at times the sharp click of the lens makes you feel like a great photographer!
another major update:
I am chachaji now. The tiny angel is a darling of everyone of course. Its a pity I will only get to meet her in mid feb. She will have grown by then!
Another week has come and gone. With an agenda of doing at least something worthwhile this weekend, I didn't feel the luxury of an idyllic weekend. Anyway, it was only great that I managed to do all this considering that I was alone.
I have seen too much crowd here. A little more than Mumbai. Sundays are free for many working women (read: housemaids) and the main streets are bustling with hordes of them. At every traffic light you will find a mass. In weekends, every tourist destination is over crowded. When I was returning from Victoria peak, there were at least 400 people in the queue ahead of me waiting to get into the tram.
The tram by the way, is a technological marvel. It climbs at such a steep angle, you wonder for once if it will fall backwards. Sort of like a roller coaster at considerably slower speed (though faster than those hill queens of india).
Sometimes I wonder if my notions of relationships are skewed. Is it that I seek the element of perfection (sounds so CVish na? :D) ? I mean, I am like an open book. Should I stay that way? Everyone wants their space. Have I ever thought of how much space I occupy? In the physical world, that question has revisited me every time I try my recently-bought jeans that is now too tight. In the mental world, the thought is struck when I see people drawing lines that far outstretch mine. I should probably use the jostling tricks I learnt in Mumbai suburban trains and create some space around me that will be mine. May be I shouldn't always speak my mind. Earlier I used to write diary almost daily but soon the agenda was hijacked (by matters of the heart). I guess I need to confine the darkest thoughts to my diary. The human race doesn't deserve to be tortured by those.
Another weekend has come and gone. It has been 15 days since I landed in Hong Kong. Have enjoyed the comforts, but resented the crowded market place. Liked the taxi ride, hated the noxious smell of dried seafood. It has been a mixed bag - much like life has been.
...
Hoshwalon Ko Khabar Kya
Bekhudi Kya Cheez Hai
...
Hum Labon Se Keh Na Paaye, Unse Haal-E-Dil Kabhi
Aur Woh Samjhe Nahin Ye Khamoshi Kya Cheez Hai
...
Sunday, December 16, 2007
First week in King Kong...
Sorry, that is Hong Kong !
Its been exactly a week since I landed here. Thanks to a survivor-like experience on my earlier trips abroad, I did pretty well this time. Found my way to the hotel, found edible food to eat, called up home and all that. Luckily I had a batchmate here who helped me with the initial setup and first few queries.
HK is a city of sky rises. Now I haven't been to Shanghai or Chicago which have a similar reputation so I don't know how it compares internationally. But I guess there are more buildings with 20+ floors in my neighbourhood than the whole of Mumbai. My hotel has 32, my office building has 50. Oh and the building next block has 100+ !
It must be easy for HongKongese parents. When the kid gets pesky just say "Count the floors in this building". Agle ek ghante tak shanti!
HK is also a city of emigrants. People of all nationalities converge here which also makes it a heaven for international food. However I must confess that, without causing any offense, I do not like the Chinese food. The Chinese food, not the Indianised version of Chinese food one gets on Ahmedabad roadside and Mumbai restaurants which is about as Chinese as Mallika Sherwat in Myth. I am sure you must have heard about the Naga fetish for canine meat. And incidentally, I think dogs and Halley comet sightings are equally rare here.
Chinese food smells. Since I don't like the smell of sea food , and the food seems to consist of marine cockroaches, you can easily guess what the smell of local restaurant food does to my nose.
The two things I love about HK compared to Mumbai are the ease of (and comfort in) strolling around and the spacious taxis ! I mean, you could sit down, lie around or play ping pong. And the driver won't even know. Of course, every once in a while, I have to twitch my nose, think of Reshammiya and say Muck-donaall-rode ( all 'd's as in 'dil') when the address is Macdonnell road. And it takes some amount of time to get used to traversing the zig zagging flyovers.
I am still thinking about buying the SLR. With so many nomenclatures and stuff, I will be lucky to have one in my hand next weekend. Then I can click some better photos as I am already beginning to feel constrained with my point and shoot. And walking around with a point and shoot fitted on a tripod is funny to say the least.
Akele hain to kya gham hai,
chahe to hamare bas mein kya nahi ...
Its been exactly a week since I landed here. Thanks to a survivor-like experience on my earlier trips abroad, I did pretty well this time. Found my way to the hotel, found edible food to eat, called up home and all that. Luckily I had a batchmate here who helped me with the initial setup and first few queries.
HK is a city of sky rises. Now I haven't been to Shanghai or Chicago which have a similar reputation so I don't know how it compares internationally. But I guess there are more buildings with 20+ floors in my neighbourhood than the whole of Mumbai. My hotel has 32, my office building has 50. Oh and the building next block has 100+ !
It must be easy for HongKongese parents. When the kid gets pesky just say "Count the floors in this building". Agle ek ghante tak shanti!
HK is also a city of emigrants. People of all nationalities converge here which also makes it a heaven for international food. However I must confess that, without causing any offense, I do not like the Chinese food. The Chinese food, not the Indianised version of Chinese food one gets on Ahmedabad roadside and Mumbai restaurants which is about as Chinese as Mallika Sherwat in Myth. I am sure you must have heard about the Naga fetish for canine meat. And incidentally, I think dogs and Halley comet sightings are equally rare here.
Chinese food smells. Since I don't like the smell of sea food , and the food seems to consist of marine cockroaches, you can easily guess what the smell of local restaurant food does to my nose.
The two things I love about HK compared to Mumbai are the ease of (and comfort in) strolling around and the spacious taxis ! I mean, you could sit down, lie around or play ping pong. And the driver won't even know. Of course, every once in a while, I have to twitch my nose, think of Reshammiya and say Muck-donaall-rode ( all 'd's as in 'dil') when the address is Macdonnell road. And it takes some amount of time to get used to traversing the zig zagging flyovers.
I am still thinking about buying the SLR. With so many nomenclatures and stuff, I will be lucky to have one in my hand next weekend. Then I can click some better photos as I am already beginning to feel constrained with my point and shoot. And walking around with a point and shoot fitted on a tripod is funny to say the least.
Akele hain to kya gham hai,
chahe to hamare bas mein kya nahi ...
Monday, October 08, 2007
Suddenly I was reminded of that cold night in the harsh winters of January 1999. Two teenagers with little more than their courage to hold on to were braving the cold morning chill and outrageously long train delays to return back to their boarding schools. As the elder of the two, I was in the unenviable position of making choices, all of which backfired. Except the last one.
The journey from Banda, my hometown in those days, to Gwalior should take 9 hours. It took 15. By the time we reached Dholpur ( a further 60 kms from Gwalior ) it was 10 pm. Ten pm in first week of January in the semi-arid regions of Rajasthan can be bone chilling. With no means to go to campus from railway station, we were left stranded with little idea of what to do. Frantic search of an old relative failed. At that moment, I dug up the telephone number of a batchmate (Ankur Garg, a day scholar at my school ) and sought help. Without a moment of thought, he asked us to come to his home. Two teens were spared the harsh night, when temperatures would have touched a low of 1`C . It was an evening I can never forget. The numbness induced by the bone chilling winds had scared me for an instant. And what kept me thinking was the fact that there was someone younger I had to take care of.
Head mein ek ho raha hai, kuch type karne ka mann nahi kar raha, aur ek long drive per jane ka mann kar raha hai. at the speed at which I drive, that would mean a trip to the next chaar rasta. Filhal, mein apne sapne ki gaadi chalata hoon:
Chupke se kahin, dheeme paaun se
jaane kis tarah, kis ghadi
aage badh gaye, humse raahon mein
par tum toh abhi thi yahin
kuch bhi na suna, kab ka tha gila
kaise keh diya alvida
Jinke darmiya gujri thi abhi
kal tak yeh meri zindagi
dono baahon ko, thandi chaanv ko
hum bhi kar chale alvida
Alvida, alvida, meri raahein alvida
meri saansein kehati hai, alvida
alvida, alvida, ab kehna aur kya
jab tune keh diya, alvida
Sunle bekhabar, yuun aankhein pher kar aaj tu chali jaa
dhundegi nazar humko hi magar har jagah
aisi raaton mein leke karvate, yaad hamein karna
aur phir haar kar kehna kyun magar, keh diya alvida alvida
koi puchhe toh zara, kya socha aur kaha alvida
alvida, alvida, ab kehna aur kya
jab tune keh diya, alvida
Hum the dil jale, phir bhi dil kahe
kaash mere sang aaj hote tum agar, hoti har dagar gulsitaa
tumse hai khafa, hum naaraaz hai, dil hai pareshaan
socha na suna tune kyun bhala keh diya alvida alvida
koi puchhe toh zara, kya socha aur kaha alvida
alvida, alvida, ab kehna aur kya
jab tune keh diya, alvida
kyun socha aur kahan alvida
dono baahon ko, thandi chaanv ko
hum bhi kar chale alvida
and here's the video:
The journey from Banda, my hometown in those days, to Gwalior should take 9 hours. It took 15. By the time we reached Dholpur ( a further 60 kms from Gwalior ) it was 10 pm. Ten pm in first week of January in the semi-arid regions of Rajasthan can be bone chilling. With no means to go to campus from railway station, we were left stranded with little idea of what to do. Frantic search of an old relative failed. At that moment, I dug up the telephone number of a batchmate (Ankur Garg, a day scholar at my school ) and sought help. Without a moment of thought, he asked us to come to his home. Two teens were spared the harsh night, when temperatures would have touched a low of 1`C . It was an evening I can never forget. The numbness induced by the bone chilling winds had scared me for an instant. And what kept me thinking was the fact that there was someone younger I had to take care of.
Head mein ek ho raha hai, kuch type karne ka mann nahi kar raha, aur ek long drive per jane ka mann kar raha hai. at the speed at which I drive, that would mean a trip to the next chaar rasta. Filhal, mein apne sapne ki gaadi chalata hoon:
Chupke se kahin, dheeme paaun se
jaane kis tarah, kis ghadi
aage badh gaye, humse raahon mein
par tum toh abhi thi yahin
kuch bhi na suna, kab ka tha gila
kaise keh diya alvida
Jinke darmiya gujri thi abhi
kal tak yeh meri zindagi
dono baahon ko, thandi chaanv ko
hum bhi kar chale alvida
Alvida, alvida, meri raahein alvida
meri saansein kehati hai, alvida
alvida, alvida, ab kehna aur kya
jab tune keh diya, alvida
Sunle bekhabar, yuun aankhein pher kar aaj tu chali jaa
dhundegi nazar humko hi magar har jagah
aisi raaton mein leke karvate, yaad hamein karna
aur phir haar kar kehna kyun magar, keh diya alvida alvida
koi puchhe toh zara, kya socha aur kaha alvida
alvida, alvida, ab kehna aur kya
jab tune keh diya, alvida
Hum the dil jale, phir bhi dil kahe
kaash mere sang aaj hote tum agar, hoti har dagar gulsitaa
tumse hai khafa, hum naaraaz hai, dil hai pareshaan
socha na suna tune kyun bhala keh diya alvida alvida
koi puchhe toh zara, kya socha aur kaha alvida
alvida, alvida, ab kehna aur kya
jab tune keh diya, alvida
kyun socha aur kahan alvida
dono baahon ko, thandi chaanv ko
hum bhi kar chale alvida
and here's the video:
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
A birthday and more...
Strato's birthday has come and gone. Can't believe it has been a year since this. Can recount a thousand happy tales from the past year and a few sad ones as well. The happy ones are centered around evenings spent watching movies, strolling in the dark and creepy campus gardens or giving surprises. And oh yes, those first times - (The first walk, the first movie and many things more suited to the confines of my mind and heart! ) Let us just leave the sad tales alone.
All in all, the lady in question has a rocking love life (by her own admission). Wish her all the luck and happy moments !
It felt nice to celebrate a birthday the way kids do. Bursting balloons, donning the birthday hat with all its frills hanging around, playing music in the background and smearing a pretty face with dark, black chocolate cake - I did all this and more. And to top it all, a nice piece of cake did the cameo, perched triumphantly on Strato's nose, making her resemble Mickey Mouse more than I resemble Hulk Hogan. Alas, I don't have a million dollars to dole out to Strato in legal suits, so cannot publish the photographs here.
In fact, the whole weekend was dominated by this agenda. I bought a nice French liqeur bottle, a few scented candles and in general, cleaned up my room. On Saturday, I also made aloo ke parathe. Bhagwan ki kasam, they were very delicious. The first one looked like a disgruntled amoeba, but the next two wore a more proper parathaish appearance. Then we had a nice get together with a pseudo-Surd friend and an old grouppie with her Mister ( the adjective old, by the way, is only for the association). Had a nice laugh and a not-that-nice dinner.
If you are in Mumbai and looking around for a place to have dessert/birthday cake, do try Birdys. Not immodestly priced and tastes like heaven. Very few things known to mankind could be more pleasant (and sinful?) than eating that rich chocolate cake. However, Pritam da dhaba turned out be a disappointment. The Rogan Josh had a faint bitterness reminiscent more of choloroquinol than curry patta. The Veg Makkhanwala was sweet. Overall, the food was something I wouldn't like to torture my palette with again. But there was something about the ambience that made me feel good. Can't say whether it was the open space, the rural setting or just the occasion.
There comes a time in everyone's life when you decide that you can't take it any more. Whether it is excess of work or lack of it. Excess of food or lack of it. Excess of vigorous physical activity or lack of it. The former makes you resemble a kid from Ethiopia, the latter makes you a true baniya with a waste size in nervous 50s . Right now, I have developed expertise in hunting houseflies, mosquitoes and other members of that gharana. And in the process of taking revenge, a spider has made me resemble a distant relative of Angelina Jolie.
It has also been a year since I attended the Oktoberfest last year. When the festival is on, even the trees in the gardens get to drink huge amounts of beer. Six million visitors, infinite amount of beer and only limited numbers of toilets - you get what I mean. It is one of those times when irrigating the trees no longer remains the forte of Indian men. The overflowing imagery aside, the atmosphere is as festive as it gets. I miss those times for the spirit in the air ( not the spirits in the masse ).
[http://home.kiski.net/~maury/poems/eliot.html]
"If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard
, One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went--
Then you may count that day well spent. "
-George Eliot
Cherish thy friends, kyunki:
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
phool khilte hain,
log milte hain
phool khilte hain,
log milte hain magar
patjhad main jo phool
murjha jate hain
woh baharon ke aane se khilte nahin
kuchh log ek roz jo bichad jate hain
woj hazaron ke aane se milte nahin
umr bhar chahe koi pukara kare unka naam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
http://www.free-lyrics.org
aankh dhoka hai
kya bharosa hai
aankh dhoka hai kya bharosa hai suno
doston shak dosti ka dushman hai
apne dil me ise ghar banane na do
kal tadapna pade yaad me unki
rok lo roothkar unko jaane na do
baad me pyaar ke chahe bhejo hazaron salaam
woh phir nahi aate
woh phir nahi aate
subaah aate hai
raat jaate hai
subaah aate hai
raat jaate hai yuhi
waqt chalta hi rehta hai rukta nahi
ek pal me ye aage nikal jaata hai
aadmi theek se dekh paata nahin
aur parde pe manzar badal jaata hai
ek baar chale jaate hai jo din raat subaah shaam
woh phir nahi aate
woh phir nahi aate
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
All in all, the lady in question has a rocking love life (by her own admission). Wish her all the luck and happy moments !
It felt nice to celebrate a birthday the way kids do. Bursting balloons, donning the birthday hat with all its frills hanging around, playing music in the background and smearing a pretty face with dark, black chocolate cake - I did all this and more. And to top it all, a nice piece of cake did the cameo, perched triumphantly on Strato's nose, making her resemble Mickey Mouse more than I resemble Hulk Hogan. Alas, I don't have a million dollars to dole out to Strato in legal suits, so cannot publish the photographs here.
In fact, the whole weekend was dominated by this agenda. I bought a nice French liqeur bottle, a few scented candles and in general, cleaned up my room. On Saturday, I also made aloo ke parathe. Bhagwan ki kasam, they were very delicious. The first one looked like a disgruntled amoeba, but the next two wore a more proper parathaish appearance. Then we had a nice get together with a pseudo-Surd friend and an old grouppie with her Mister ( the adjective old, by the way, is only for the association). Had a nice laugh and a not-that-nice dinner.
If you are in Mumbai and looking around for a place to have dessert/birthday cake, do try Birdys. Not immodestly priced and tastes like heaven. Very few things known to mankind could be more pleasant (and sinful?) than eating that rich chocolate cake. However, Pritam da dhaba turned out be a disappointment. The Rogan Josh had a faint bitterness reminiscent more of choloroquinol than curry patta. The Veg Makkhanwala was sweet. Overall, the food was something I wouldn't like to torture my palette with again. But there was something about the ambience that made me feel good. Can't say whether it was the open space, the rural setting or just the occasion.
There comes a time in everyone's life when you decide that you can't take it any more. Whether it is excess of work or lack of it. Excess of food or lack of it. Excess of vigorous physical activity or lack of it. The former makes you resemble a kid from Ethiopia, the latter makes you a true baniya with a waste size in nervous 50s . Right now, I have developed expertise in hunting houseflies, mosquitoes and other members of that gharana. And in the process of taking revenge, a spider has made me resemble a distant relative of Angelina Jolie.
It has also been a year since I attended the Oktoberfest last year. When the festival is on, even the trees in the gardens get to drink huge amounts of beer. Six million visitors, infinite amount of beer and only limited numbers of toilets - you get what I mean. It is one of those times when irrigating the trees no longer remains the forte of Indian men. The overflowing imagery aside, the atmosphere is as festive as it gets. I miss those times for the spirit in the air ( not the spirits in the masse ).
[http://home.kiski.net/~maury/poems/eliot.html]
"If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard
, One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went--
Then you may count that day well spent. "
-George Eliot
Cherish thy friends, kyunki:
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
phool khilte hain,
log milte hain
phool khilte hain,
log milte hain magar
patjhad main jo phool
murjha jate hain
woh baharon ke aane se khilte nahin
kuchh log ek roz jo bichad jate hain
woj hazaron ke aane se milte nahin
umr bhar chahe koi pukara kare unka naam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
http://www.free-lyrics.org
aankh dhoka hai
kya bharosa hai
aankh dhoka hai kya bharosa hai suno
doston shak dosti ka dushman hai
apne dil me ise ghar banane na do
kal tadapna pade yaad me unki
rok lo roothkar unko jaane na do
baad me pyaar ke chahe bhejo hazaron salaam
woh phir nahi aate
woh phir nahi aate
subaah aate hai
raat jaate hai
subaah aate hai
raat jaate hai yuhi
waqt chalta hi rehta hai rukta nahi
ek pal me ye aage nikal jaata hai
aadmi theek se dekh paata nahin
aur parde pe manzar badal jaata hai
ek baar chale jaate hai jo din raat subaah shaam
woh phir nahi aate
woh phir nahi aate
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
A practical believer
This is getting serious[Ref: this article]. A profoundly philosophical debate (or rather, a thought) has been spurred inside me. And it only restrengthens my earlier thoughts.
Many times in my childhood, I recited a prayer from Ramayana. I exhorted Lord Shiva to come to my rescue whenever I was in trouble. I saw almost-miracles happen. But the fact is, I only remember those times when I prayed and it helped.
What about the time when I got sick with malaria and typhoid simultaneously? Imagine what it must have done to a person who weighed 45kg when he should be weighing 60kg. What about the time when I cried in agony? And at least some people will say, you did something that deserved the punishment. Nice! When prayer works, it is work of God. When prayer doesn't work, it is because I deserved punishment. Or may be, it worked in some other form. May be I weighed 46 instead of 45 after I recovered.
Can there be a better all-explaining hypothesis?
Similarly for God. So many people relentlessly try to prove the existence of God. How can you doubt a holy scripture- they say. Just because a million people believe in a book (whether Ramayan or Bible) is not a reason enough. For centuries, people believed that the Earth is round. And to top it all, humans were banished to painful deaths for contradicting that belief. Therefore, just because a million people believe something isn't enough for me to believe.
At the other end of the spectrum, some people adopt an ultra-rational and scientific approach to the issue. And that is where I intercept the logic.
I don't claim that Rama existed, nor do I deny it. Similarly for Jesus. However, I do think that historical and unambiguous proofs do not exist to collaborate such claims. That is where faith comes in, and logic departs. You believe what you want to believe.
On this string of thoughts is a very interesting article:(). Now I am willing to give credit to this theory.
Mind you, I am not an atheist. I am a practical believer. I pray to God, but I do that to compose myself. And it composes me because it takes my mind off the instant worries.
People say everything happens for good. What it actually implies is the widely known tendency of human brain to reconcile everything. There are popular theories in psychology about human brain trying to process information using models and templates. Religion, by the very nature of it, becomes an ingrained template in our mind and whenever a dissonance arises, we try to find the means to reconcile things. Given human capability for selective amnesia, we invariably end up with the belief that everything happens for good.
Think about it. . . Do you believe the scientific theory that we evolved from chimpanzees and apes? At what point in that evolution did the religions start? My conjecture is that all these religious practices are a result of evolution. Religious practices must have evolved as a means to strengthen the cohesion within groups. Over the years, the practices got intertwined with available scientific knowledge in those ages. Geniuses must have existed even in those times! This intertwining might explain why we are able to observe rational or scientific justification in many religious practices.
If you really believe evolution as a scientific theory, can you not see the immediate contradiction with the texts in Bible and
Are we willing to accept the fact the religion is a matter of faith, and not scientific debate? That when someone says, "There is no proof that Rama/Jesus existed", it is not equivalent to saying "You are an idiot if you believe in Rama/Jesus".
The missionary practices, or the practices of other religions to spread their own faith point towards the hypothesis that religions must have evolved from tribes as a means to ensure survival. The greater the numbers, the greater the chances of survival. Hence, there was a need to spread faith. But the spread of Buddhism may not be explained by such simplistic logic.
To conclude it all, ladies and gentlemen, the God (or His/Her representations) we pray to are human imaginations. And I stand by it.
But it doesn't hurt to pray to God if it brings calm and composure.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The 2H message!
Curse the biraadari of bacteria and virii ( or is it viruses?) for they trouble us thus. First I had a throat infection so bad that my deep baritone became deeper than Indian Ocean and Gulzar's lyrics. Then Strato suffered at the hands of these mercenaries. By the way, she is still recovering from those bacteria bullets.
Recently I had the good luck of riding a taxi that shook so wildly that if they shot me with a video camera, I would resemble a side dancer in Shammi Kapoor's classics. Between muttering unmentionables, I beseeched the almighty to protect me, especially since I haven't taken the life insurance yet. All of a sudden, the vibrations vanished into thin (and shaky) air. Was I lucky?
Talking of cars, I now spend half an hour every few days in a week cruising at 20. Sometimes I even top 30 (and that is only when there are no taxi drivers, trucks or street dogs in sight). But it gets kind of dazy at those speeds.
Am preparing (mostly mentally) for a trip abroad. A few months in the Chinki land would bring me back to the reality of how beautiful our eyes are. In the interim, I am planning to buy a Digital SLR. A 24 months EMI will hopefully take the bite out of this Canon purchase. It will most probably be this one.
I came across this revealing website. But wait, before you jump with unfounded (or new founded) excitement, it is NOT a link to Mallika's wardrobe. Just an eye opener. And here is a moral petition to all the devoutly religious Hindus all over the world : Do you realise how much milk is spilled every year washing Shiva Linga? Do you know how many hungry men, women and children inhabit the streets of India? Can you come out of the mental slavery of blind practices and be more humane? Will give you more punya than all the hawans and vrats.
I beseech my friends who understand this message to spread it around. Convince your mothers and fathers. Call it the double H agenda : Hygiene will come, Hunger will go. Use the milk to feed people, not wash Lord Shiva.
On the same lines, most religions seem to believe that God is hearing impaired. What are all those loud speakers for? The ones right beside my house have given me so much headache, I could hear some implosions. Wait, is it a decoy from Disprin?
Lord Ganesh is a very cute good (typical Indian pot bellied figure), and I am sure He will enjoy all the revelry. Revelry, but NOT the cacophony. Dear pundits, spare my ears. Please.
Talking of the habits of Indian men(and women), Prof Raghunathan has a very valid point. We are a very short sighted bunch of people. If only we all chose to be a little more patient and tolerant of rules, the traffic situation would improve. But we all go to the bed everynight and pray, "Chaos kayam rahe". So the situation is not susceptible to improving any time soon.
If you still do not use RSS feeds, consider yourself to be living in the stone age of internet. Consider the fact that I go through 200+ articles (but read only a few) every day. And these are select articles from select websites. You see the level of filtering? Only Aquaguard can better it.
Here's some 3-D lyrics (for its depth) :
ajnabi shahar hai
ajnabi shaam hai
zindagi ajnabi kya tera naam hai
ajeeb hai ye zindagi ye zindagi ajeeb hai
ye milti hai bicharti hai bicharke phir se milti hai
Ajnabi shehar hai
ajnabi shaam hai
aap ke bagair bhi hume
meethi lage udasiya
kya ye aap ka aap ka kamaal hai
shayad aapko khabar nahi
hil rahi hai paaon ki zameen
kya ye aap ka aap ka khayal hai
ajnabi shehar mein zindagi milgayi
ajeeb hai ye zindagi ye zindagi ajeeb hai
mein samjha tha kareeb hai ye auron ka naseeb hai
ajnabi shaher hai
ajnabi shaam hai
baat hai ye ek raat ki
aap badalo pe letey the
woh yaad hai aapne bulaya tha
sardi lag rahi thi aapko
patli chandi lapetey the
aur shawl mein khwaab ke sulaya tha
ajnabi thi sahi saans mein silgayi
ajeeb hai ye zindagi ye zindagi ajeeb hai
mere nahi ye zindagi rakeeb ka naseeb hai...
Recently I had the good luck of riding a taxi that shook so wildly that if they shot me with a video camera, I would resemble a side dancer in Shammi Kapoor's classics. Between muttering unmentionables, I beseeched the almighty to protect me, especially since I haven't taken the life insurance yet. All of a sudden, the vibrations vanished into thin (and shaky) air. Was I lucky?
Talking of cars, I now spend half an hour every few days in a week cruising at 20. Sometimes I even top 30 (and that is only when there are no taxi drivers, trucks or street dogs in sight). But it gets kind of dazy at those speeds.
Am preparing (mostly mentally) for a trip abroad. A few months in the Chinki land would bring me back to the reality of how beautiful our eyes are. In the interim, I am planning to buy a Digital SLR. A 24 months EMI will hopefully take the bite out of this Canon purchase. It will most probably be this one.
I came across this revealing website. But wait, before you jump with unfounded (or new founded) excitement, it is NOT a link to Mallika's wardrobe. Just an eye opener. And here is a moral petition to all the devoutly religious Hindus all over the world : Do you realise how much milk is spilled every year washing Shiva Linga? Do you know how many hungry men, women and children inhabit the streets of India? Can you come out of the mental slavery of blind practices and be more humane? Will give you more punya than all the hawans and vrats.
I beseech my friends who understand this message to spread it around. Convince your mothers and fathers. Call it the double H agenda : Hygiene will come, Hunger will go. Use the milk to feed people, not wash Lord Shiva.
On the same lines, most religions seem to believe that God is hearing impaired. What are all those loud speakers for? The ones right beside my house have given me so much headache, I could hear some implosions. Wait, is it a decoy from Disprin?
Lord Ganesh is a very cute good (typical Indian pot bellied figure), and I am sure He will enjoy all the revelry. Revelry, but NOT the cacophony. Dear pundits, spare my ears. Please.
Talking of the habits of Indian men(and women), Prof Raghunathan has a very valid point. We are a very short sighted bunch of people. If only we all chose to be a little more patient and tolerant of rules, the traffic situation would improve. But we all go to the bed everynight and pray, "Chaos kayam rahe". So the situation is not susceptible to improving any time soon.
If you still do not use RSS feeds, consider yourself to be living in the stone age of internet. Consider the fact that I go through 200+ articles (but read only a few) every day. And these are select articles from select websites. You see the level of filtering? Only Aquaguard can better it.
Here's some 3-D lyrics (for its depth) :
ajnabi shahar hai
ajnabi shaam hai
zindagi ajnabi kya tera naam hai
ajeeb hai ye zindagi ye zindagi ajeeb hai
ye milti hai bicharti hai bicharke phir se milti hai
Ajnabi shehar hai
ajnabi shaam hai
aap ke bagair bhi hume
meethi lage udasiya
kya ye aap ka aap ka kamaal hai
shayad aapko khabar nahi
hil rahi hai paaon ki zameen
kya ye aap ka aap ka khayal hai
ajnabi shehar mein zindagi milgayi
ajeeb hai ye zindagi ye zindagi ajeeb hai
mein samjha tha kareeb hai ye auron ka naseeb hai
ajnabi shaher hai
ajnabi shaam hai
baat hai ye ek raat ki
aap badalo pe letey the
woh yaad hai aapne bulaya tha
sardi lag rahi thi aapko
patli chandi lapetey the
aur shawl mein khwaab ke sulaya tha
ajnabi thi sahi saans mein silgayi
ajeeb hai ye zindagi ye zindagi ajeeb hai
mere nahi ye zindagi rakeeb ka naseeb hai...
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Rumblings on job...
Yours Truly works at an i-bank desk. Clearly, a blog is not the best place to voice an opinion of one's job. But I can safely say that the kind of money one makes at an i-banking desk is enough to increase inertia to very high levels. Inertia against switching to a delta-higher paying job. Inertia against starting out on one's own.
Very few people amongst those who graduated from my batch currently seem to be satisfied with their jobs. Others are barely satisfied, if at all. And I don't think it is because of the nature of their jobs. Fresh out of the college, especially one as revered and coveted as IIMA, people have expectations, and not all of those are realistic. The college life presents far more academic or intellectual challenges than most jobs I have heard of. The challenge in real life, I realise, is more in the manner of being able to manage everything and doing a great job of it. To expect some pathbreaking earth-shattering task in one's job isn't a wise thing to do.
I sit on my chair for hours (long hours compared to government jobs, short hours compared to my peers in London, HK or NY). I do number crunching and wafer crunching simultaneously, sipping Real Juice intermittently (or Tropicana, even though Frooti is my favorite). I prepare presentations and spreadsheets. I hear tales from my friends across seven seas and realise how far seperated impressions can be from reality.
Anyway, I am just back from a well-timed one week vacation at home, followed by an adventurous trip to Khopoli. This town is located some 70 kms from Mumbai and makes for an interesting a-few-hour-getaway. A hired Sumo (of the automotive kinds) cost us 1800 Rs and it took us around an hour and a half to navigate through the traffic laden roads of Mumbai to reach this place. Hiring the taxi itself was a learning experience. Having received his entire sum in advance, the travel agent started showing dubious signals. It didn't help that we were dressed more like tourists than local residents. After some angry words, open threats and many excuses, we were given our money back and we struck a deal with another agent.
The photos of the trip are here.
It was a huge waterfall. I would put the estimate at around 150 feet, though even a figure of 175 wouldn't surprise me. We managed to get almost right underneath it, though a really enterprising girl amongst us actually ventured into the vortex area of the waterfall. For a few seconds, I really was scared. What if I slipped? The presence of what looked like a bunch of skilled swimmers didn't completely alleviate the fear. But all in all, it was an experience I hadn't had before. One of us had a really really amazing tumble. Am in the process of getting that video uploaded.
It is high time I shared some of the new blogs I have stumbled into of late. Some are pretty interesting - for instance, there is a female New York Taxi driver who is publishing a book. And her blog is alleged to receive thousands of hits daily. At least initially, the blogs are very informative. Both because the cultural setting is very new and because a lady in that setting is not a common occurrence. Then there is Brewhaha, which you must absolutely visit if you are in Bangalore. Also in the list is www.whatay.com, the new avataar of Domain Maximus, a popular blog.
The last one reminded me of my own programming days. For long, programming in all its forms has been my most preferred mental activity. The pleasure of seeing the correct output even in the face of most weird (but valid, nonetheless) inputs has been surpassed by only the most primitive of human activities. Those were my days at IIT, when a new programming task meant staring dazy-eyed at the monitor and emptying many a wafer packets. Many of my friends complimented me on my skills in this arena, and one of them very recently did. I was very pleasantly surprised. From trying to solve a sudoku using basic principles to emulating a pool game in the most simplified versions, I have tried many tricks. My deepest connections with the inside of an operating system developed when we did kernel coding for SE Linux. While I will resist spewing technical jargon ( both because it would be rude and because I have forgotten half the jargon myself! ), I must say the experience was exhilarating. I landed my first summer internship (but which I declined a little while later) because I was able to write insta code. I also thoroughly enjoyed teaching a class of ~50 students. And the best moments were when we got the sadistic delight of crashing the students' programs by giving input that landed in the gray zone of validity, weirdity and insanity. Sorry everyone who was at the receiving end. I intended no harm!
Dil kya karey
jab kisi ko
kisi se pyar ho jaye...
jane kehan, kab kisi ko,
kisi se...
Very few people amongst those who graduated from my batch currently seem to be satisfied with their jobs. Others are barely satisfied, if at all. And I don't think it is because of the nature of their jobs. Fresh out of the college, especially one as revered and coveted as IIMA, people have expectations, and not all of those are realistic. The college life presents far more academic or intellectual challenges than most jobs I have heard of. The challenge in real life, I realise, is more in the manner of being able to manage everything and doing a great job of it. To expect some pathbreaking earth-shattering task in one's job isn't a wise thing to do.
I sit on my chair for hours (long hours compared to government jobs, short hours compared to my peers in London, HK or NY). I do number crunching and wafer crunching simultaneously, sipping Real Juice intermittently (or Tropicana, even though Frooti is my favorite). I prepare presentations and spreadsheets. I hear tales from my friends across seven seas and realise how far seperated impressions can be from reality.
Anyway, I am just back from a well-timed one week vacation at home, followed by an adventurous trip to Khopoli. This town is located some 70 kms from Mumbai and makes for an interesting a-few-hour-getaway. A hired Sumo (of the automotive kinds) cost us 1800 Rs and it took us around an hour and a half to navigate through the traffic laden roads of Mumbai to reach this place. Hiring the taxi itself was a learning experience. Having received his entire sum in advance, the travel agent started showing dubious signals. It didn't help that we were dressed more like tourists than local residents. After some angry words, open threats and many excuses, we were given our money back and we struck a deal with another agent.
The photos of the trip are here.
It was a huge waterfall. I would put the estimate at around 150 feet, though even a figure of 175 wouldn't surprise me. We managed to get almost right underneath it, though a really enterprising girl amongst us actually ventured into the vortex area of the waterfall. For a few seconds, I really was scared. What if I slipped? The presence of what looked like a bunch of skilled swimmers didn't completely alleviate the fear. But all in all, it was an experience I hadn't had before. One of us had a really really amazing tumble. Am in the process of getting that video uploaded.
It is high time I shared some of the new blogs I have stumbled into of late. Some are pretty interesting - for instance, there is a female New York Taxi driver who is publishing a book. And her blog is alleged to receive thousands of hits daily. At least initially, the blogs are very informative. Both because the cultural setting is very new and because a lady in that setting is not a common occurrence. Then there is Brewhaha, which you must absolutely visit if you are in Bangalore. Also in the list is www.whatay.com, the new avataar of Domain Maximus, a popular blog.
The last one reminded me of my own programming days. For long, programming in all its forms has been my most preferred mental activity. The pleasure of seeing the correct output even in the face of most weird (but valid, nonetheless) inputs has been surpassed by only the most primitive of human activities. Those were my days at IIT, when a new programming task meant staring dazy-eyed at the monitor and emptying many a wafer packets. Many of my friends complimented me on my skills in this arena, and one of them very recently did. I was very pleasantly surprised. From trying to solve a sudoku using basic principles to emulating a pool game in the most simplified versions, I have tried many tricks. My deepest connections with the inside of an operating system developed when we did kernel coding for SE Linux. While I will resist spewing technical jargon ( both because it would be rude and because I have forgotten half the jargon myself! ), I must say the experience was exhilarating. I landed my first summer internship (but which I declined a little while later) because I was able to write insta code. I also thoroughly enjoyed teaching a class of ~50 students. And the best moments were when we got the sadistic delight of crashing the students' programs by giving input that landed in the gray zone of validity, weirdity and insanity. Sorry everyone who was at the receiving end. I intended no harm!
Dil kya karey
jab kisi ko
kisi se pyar ho jaye...
jane kehan, kab kisi ko,
kisi se...
New photo blog - trip to Khopoli
Another photoblog is here:
www.bhomsphotos.blogspot.com
An updated (and more verbal) description of the trip will arrive in a day or two. :-)
It's rocking...
www.bhomsphotos.blogspot.com
An updated (and more verbal) description of the trip will arrive in a day or two. :-)
It's rocking...
Friday, August 31, 2007
A psychotic neurotic Equation
Its not often that you will come across a person who possesses such an eclectic mix of qualities. You know na, I dance like a mosquito with fractured legs, if at all. In other cases, the resemblance is closer to a dead rat than any other known organism. And when I sing, it echoes the voice of a donkey with sore throat. So I desist, as far as possible, and it has been sufficient this far.
Stranger still are people who find, within this plethora of vices, a few qualities that attract them. I mean, yes, I've been known to crack PJs whose stink could be a potent chemical weapon. But what was it that made people fall for any of these (un)mentionable qualities? Tell Tell?
I've eaten so much of green grass in my childhood that green is my favorite color. I see everything with a tinge of green, whether it is the extra laddoo or extra secrets. I want all that and more.
The closest resemblance to my behaviour pattern would be a pseudo-random generating equation. "How nerdy/geeky!" you may exclaim. But still, Celine dion ke kutte ki awaaz mein, Thats the way it is. I can be unpredictable at times, especially when dealt with situations I don't want to be in.
One such situation is about truth. There's some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder (woh baar baar hath dhone ki bimari! ) built into my system. If I trust you, I expect you to trust me. If I am true to you, I expect the same from you. The catch is that the word 'true' can be treated to many an extreme limits. I guess I live in one of those extremeties. As Strato will readily testfy, I hate to be lied to. And the closer the liar, the more insurmountable the feeling of disbelief is. Lucky for me that life's crests and troughs have taught me to control my anger.
I also harbor very weird views about human behaviour. One of those is about relationships. To me, intimacy is like a spoonful of jam. The more the number of breads you spread it on, the thinner it gets. The more the number of people who know your deepest secrets, the lesser the special-ness of divulging that information becomes. Similarly for needs. The more the number of people you need to survive a day, the lesser the importance of each individual person.
The polygon I hate the most is a triangle. It has often hurt me, poking into my backside with a venomous tinge or tapping my peanut-sized brain into a migraine.
To top it all, patience is a virtue I never quite grew up with. I want more, and I want it faster. God knows how many surprises I must have divulged just because I couldn't wait for that special feeling to set in.
Thankfully, there exist people who appreciate the way I look at life.
To be misunderstood or taken for a ride ( in the negative sense of the word) could be the worst thing to happen!
Humrahi jab ho mastaana,
mauj mein ho dil deewana,
fir chalne wale rukte hain kehan...
-From the film Pukaar.
Stranger still are people who find, within this plethora of vices, a few qualities that attract them. I mean, yes, I've been known to crack PJs whose stink could be a potent chemical weapon. But what was it that made people fall for any of these (un)mentionable qualities? Tell Tell?
I've eaten so much of green grass in my childhood that green is my favorite color. I see everything with a tinge of green, whether it is the extra laddoo or extra secrets. I want all that and more.
The closest resemblance to my behaviour pattern would be a pseudo-random generating equation. "How nerdy/geeky!" you may exclaim. But still, Celine dion ke kutte ki awaaz mein, Thats the way it is. I can be unpredictable at times, especially when dealt with situations I don't want to be in.
One such situation is about truth. There's some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder (woh baar baar hath dhone ki bimari! ) built into my system. If I trust you, I expect you to trust me. If I am true to you, I expect the same from you. The catch is that the word 'true' can be treated to many an extreme limits. I guess I live in one of those extremeties. As Strato will readily testfy, I hate to be lied to. And the closer the liar, the more insurmountable the feeling of disbelief is. Lucky for me that life's crests and troughs have taught me to control my anger.
I also harbor very weird views about human behaviour. One of those is about relationships. To me, intimacy is like a spoonful of jam. The more the number of breads you spread it on, the thinner it gets. The more the number of people who know your deepest secrets, the lesser the special-ness of divulging that information becomes. Similarly for needs. The more the number of people you need to survive a day, the lesser the importance of each individual person.
The polygon I hate the most is a triangle. It has often hurt me, poking into my backside with a venomous tinge or tapping my peanut-sized brain into a migraine.
To top it all, patience is a virtue I never quite grew up with. I want more, and I want it faster. God knows how many surprises I must have divulged just because I couldn't wait for that special feeling to set in.
Thankfully, there exist people who appreciate the way I look at life.
To be misunderstood or taken for a ride ( in the negative sense of the word) could be the worst thing to happen!
Humrahi jab ho mastaana,
mauj mein ho dil deewana,
fir chalne wale rukte hain kehan...
-From the film Pukaar.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Some Serious Rumination
This was a rather boring day. But enlightening nonetheless. Or may be reassuring.
Contrary to most/many people around me, I would rank myself in the believer-atheist grey zone. And an article I read got me thinking.
I do fathom the incredible complexity of this world. I have often thought and have long remained fascinated about The Origin (of Everything). A reference to that concept comes in the starting song of the famous, but now old serial 'The Discovery of India'. I am too ignorant to comment on how most religions treat it in depth, but I do have impressions. Christians assume the existence of a God so powerful that She/He created everything out of nothing. So do Hindus, though in a sense, I am confused whether Hinduism refers to one original God or three. My impression is that other religions also assume, because they cannot explain.
In fact, my conviction is that it is beyond us to explain the Origin. May be because our minds are programmed to think of time as a linear continuum, and so, we always ask what came before... as if 'before' was a completely defined and understood concept. A theory like Relativity, which brings fuzziness into many of our well-understood concepts of time and other dimensions may be an indication that there is a fuzziness in this trail of thoughts that we cannot cope with.
Nevertheless, I agree that there is something beyond us. And my posture is that luck, fate, karma, God (and all its synonyms) refer to that same one thing.
Also that He/She/It does not interfere with what we do. It is we who pray and feel good. It is we who seek silence in the name of God.
Religion, to that extent, is only a process - of trying to live with the deep uncertainty and the human inability to explain away so many things. Religion was made by humans, as much as math was. I remember a very interesting session we had in our Theory of Computation class where one of my favorite Profs asked a stunning question. He drew a '1' on the blackboard and asked us what it was. It took a bunch of 40 very very smart men and women some time and discussion to realise that the question is much deeper than what it appears to be. And I see a parallel in terms of religion. ( If you don't see it, challenge me to a discussion on '1'. And if you are satisfied, do treat me with a cone of a nice ice-cream. )
We realise that there is an underlying concept, and we choose a symbol to express it.
If religion is such a concept, why do people go mad about it?
You may ask, why is my peanut-sized brain thinking about this?
I started wondering about all this, when I stumbled upon this article. The sentence that struck a cord inside me was this: "She was no more exempt from the realization that religion is a human fabrication than any other person..." We may cringe at the concept that someone is an atheist, and we may bloat about our understanding of religion. But what is the big deal about understanding something created by another human being? Certainly, there wasn't any religion when humans walked around naked on this Earth? (Speaking of which, Playboy could give a whole new dimension to the cliche - "Back to the basics"! )
When someone says, "You should go to a temple every once so often, or you should light up an agarbatti every evening, because you should remember God everyday", I refuse to accept it. Rituals must be treated for what they are - processes with an objective. If lighting a candle does not make me happier, why should I waste the effort ? Just think about how much milk is wasted every year by people washing shiv-lings with milk. O you devout Hindu, did you ever think about donating that milk to someone hungrier and more in need of it than Lord Shiva?
I scoff at people who fast for religion but refuse to understand that God never asks them to be hungry. If they feel happy to go hungry, so be it. But to treat it like a commandment that must be followed or else all hell will break lose is something I will never ever accept.
Too much on this. But do read the article I mentioned above. Mother Teresa has been one of my heroes, and this article only makes me feel better about her. She was inside a rigid machinery in which, she had to profess a complete love of and faith in God - The God, as they know it. Kudos to you, Mother. Because you didn't stop tending for the poor even when inside you, there was a turmoil so deep that most people would have faltered at that stage. And therein lies the strength of your conviction.
Far from the madding man (Yours Truly), Strato must be busy attending business sessions in Phuket. How ironical . . . like someone using Shakti Kapoor to promote a brand of Rakhi ! Oh by the way, after many many years, I will be at home on a Raksha Bandhan. Just another ritual, but a very nice excuse for siblings to get cozy and express mutual affection. And trade gifts and mithai as well !
After having zapped all houseflies inside my cubicle and reading all decent articles on news websites, I am looking forward to a trip back home. A nice week spent away from work would be a good change from the routine.
I have many plans on what to do after shadi. And top of the line is a-trip-a-year plan. Long back, when I was a kid, my mom knew I would travel a lot. She defused all my plans of running away from home with a sharp eye and twisted ears. Her eyes and my ears, to be precise. But once out there in the hostel, I had my way. I surmise that by the time I am 50, I will have seen every country which is a member of the UNO and where Guns and Roses are not the most popular accessories.
Humko maloom hai,
Ishq masoom hai,
Dil se
Ho jati hain
Galtiyaan...
Sabra se ishq mehroom hai . . .
Salute, Gulzar saheb.
Contrary to most/many people around me, I would rank myself in the believer-atheist grey zone. And an article I read got me thinking.
I do fathom the incredible complexity of this world. I have often thought and have long remained fascinated about The Origin (of Everything). A reference to that concept comes in the starting song of the famous, but now old serial 'The Discovery of India'. I am too ignorant to comment on how most religions treat it in depth, but I do have impressions. Christians assume the existence of a God so powerful that She/He created everything out of nothing. So do Hindus, though in a sense, I am confused whether Hinduism refers to one original God or three. My impression is that other religions also assume, because they cannot explain.
In fact, my conviction is that it is beyond us to explain the Origin. May be because our minds are programmed to think of time as a linear continuum, and so, we always ask what came before... as if 'before' was a completely defined and understood concept. A theory like Relativity, which brings fuzziness into many of our well-understood concepts of time and other dimensions may be an indication that there is a fuzziness in this trail of thoughts that we cannot cope with.
Nevertheless, I agree that there is something beyond us. And my posture is that luck, fate, karma, God (and all its synonyms) refer to that same one thing.
Also that He/She/It does not interfere with what we do. It is we who pray and feel good. It is we who seek silence in the name of God.
Religion, to that extent, is only a process - of trying to live with the deep uncertainty and the human inability to explain away so many things. Religion was made by humans, as much as math was. I remember a very interesting session we had in our Theory of Computation class where one of my favorite Profs asked a stunning question. He drew a '1' on the blackboard and asked us what it was. It took a bunch of 40 very very smart men and women some time and discussion to realise that the question is much deeper than what it appears to be. And I see a parallel in terms of religion. ( If you don't see it, challenge me to a discussion on '1'. And if you are satisfied, do treat me with a cone of a nice ice-cream. )
We realise that there is an underlying concept, and we choose a symbol to express it.
If religion is such a concept, why do people go mad about it?
You may ask, why is my peanut-sized brain thinking about this?
I started wondering about all this, when I stumbled upon this article. The sentence that struck a cord inside me was this: "She was no more exempt from the realization that religion is a human fabrication than any other person..." We may cringe at the concept that someone is an atheist, and we may bloat about our understanding of religion. But what is the big deal about understanding something created by another human being? Certainly, there wasn't any religion when humans walked around naked on this Earth? (Speaking of which, Playboy could give a whole new dimension to the cliche - "Back to the basics"! )
When someone says, "You should go to a temple every once so often, or you should light up an agarbatti every evening, because you should remember God everyday", I refuse to accept it. Rituals must be treated for what they are - processes with an objective. If lighting a candle does not make me happier, why should I waste the effort ? Just think about how much milk is wasted every year by people washing shiv-lings with milk. O you devout Hindu, did you ever think about donating that milk to someone hungrier and more in need of it than Lord Shiva?
I scoff at people who fast for religion but refuse to understand that God never asks them to be hungry. If they feel happy to go hungry, so be it. But to treat it like a commandment that must be followed or else all hell will break lose is something I will never ever accept.
Too much on this. But do read the article I mentioned above. Mother Teresa has been one of my heroes, and this article only makes me feel better about her. She was inside a rigid machinery in which, she had to profess a complete love of and faith in God - The God, as they know it. Kudos to you, Mother. Because you didn't stop tending for the poor even when inside you, there was a turmoil so deep that most people would have faltered at that stage. And therein lies the strength of your conviction.
Far from the madding man (Yours Truly), Strato must be busy attending business sessions in Phuket. How ironical . . . like someone using Shakti Kapoor to promote a brand of Rakhi ! Oh by the way, after many many years, I will be at home on a Raksha Bandhan. Just another ritual, but a very nice excuse for siblings to get cozy and express mutual affection. And trade gifts and mithai as well !
After having zapped all houseflies inside my cubicle and reading all decent articles on news websites, I am looking forward to a trip back home. A nice week spent away from work would be a good change from the routine.
I have many plans on what to do after shadi. And top of the line is a-trip-a-year plan. Long back, when I was a kid, my mom knew I would travel a lot. She defused all my plans of running away from home with a sharp eye and twisted ears. Her eyes and my ears, to be precise. But once out there in the hostel, I had my way. I surmise that by the time I am 50, I will have seen every country which is a member of the UNO and where Guns and Roses are not the most popular accessories.
Humko maloom hai,
Ishq masoom hai,
Dil se
Ho jati hain
Galtiyaan...
Sabra se ishq mehroom hai . . .
Salute, Gulzar saheb.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Arbit, random and foolish.
Somethings cannot be shared. And I am not speaking of razors and small clothes.
There cannot be two first persons you think of for an SOS call - whether of the physical, spiritual or metaphysical kinds. That privilege in life is pure and unadulterated (Ek dam parachute nariyal tel ki tarah).
Sometimes life looks like it is alternatively playing the roles of a witch and (insert a rhyming word). I mean, how is one supposed to choose between a kuan and a khai? Or between jalebi and soan papdi? But given that we only have one mouth and one heart, sometimes we must. And it gets difficult in the least. Downright agonising in the worst.
As I write this in a moving taxi, I realise that the gentlemanliness is not all lost in the taxi drivers of Mumbai. This taxi driver just stopped and waved at a passerby giving him the way to cross. Kudos paa ji!
Meanwhile, this folded-in-two A5 sheet looks like the haldi ghati of a 1000 ants. It is the strongest form of encryption known to humankind, mastered by that species called doctors. Come to think of it, there are so many 'ycin's, 'amide's and 'oxes' that removing a few letters will get you a birth control pill instead of cough syrup.
Sometimes, you encounter something so precious, you don't want so share it with anyone. In this maddeningly complicated world, where chain reaction happen as often in relationships as they do in nuclear reactors.
While I try to adjust the Thorium rods in my reactor, aap sunein aaj ka gaana. . .
Aur aahista, keejiye baatein,
Dhadkanein koi
sun raha hoga...
There cannot be two first persons you think of for an SOS call - whether of the physical, spiritual or metaphysical kinds. That privilege in life is pure and unadulterated (Ek dam parachute nariyal tel ki tarah).
Sometimes life looks like it is alternatively playing the roles of a witch and (insert a rhyming word). I mean, how is one supposed to choose between a kuan and a khai? Or between jalebi and soan papdi? But given that we only have one mouth and one heart, sometimes we must. And it gets difficult in the least. Downright agonising in the worst.
As I write this in a moving taxi, I realise that the gentlemanliness is not all lost in the taxi drivers of Mumbai. This taxi driver just stopped and waved at a passerby giving him the way to cross. Kudos paa ji!
Meanwhile, this folded-in-two A5 sheet looks like the haldi ghati of a 1000 ants. It is the strongest form of encryption known to humankind, mastered by that species called doctors. Come to think of it, there are so many 'ycin's, 'amide's and 'oxes' that removing a few letters will get you a birth control pill instead of cough syrup.
Sometimes, you encounter something so precious, you don't want so share it with anyone. In this maddeningly complicated world, where chain reaction happen as often in relationships as they do in nuclear reactors.
While I try to adjust the Thorium rods in my reactor, aap sunein aaj ka gaana. . .
Aur aahista, keejiye baatein,
Dhadkanein koi
sun raha hoga...
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Intellectually fool-filling
Sometimes, you just stumble upon a series of interesting articles that gets you thinking. That challenges your brain. And it is best if it happens on a lazy Friday when you least want to work. Here is something to get you started:
The world is such an interesting place. The sub-prime woes are haunting the market. A simple but dedicated quest leads to dozens of emerging websites offering all kinds of services online. People (at least the skeptical kinds) have begun to doubt if
Meanwhile, my own life is far from dynamic. My incessant curiosity is beginning to pester people.
I mean, I was born with two legs, two hands and an insatiable curiosity. Right from the name of the nurse who did the ‘ghor paap’ of bringing me to this earth to the price of so many items I probably won’t be buying in the next 4-5 years, I want to know it all. In between these lie questions which poke at people in a way that discomforts them. Probably also seems to imply either a sense of insecurity or mistrust. Both of which are not true.
I agree I have my doubts. The egg I bought yesterday wasn’t fresh like the shopkeeper promised. Chak De may not be a movie worth watching after all. My ideas might fail me, or vice versa. But in the end, like everybody else, my people (and I take the liberty of calling them ‘my’) are my greatest asset. I treasure them more than anything else I can think of. While I hate liars (absolutely) and can become incorrigibly possessive at times, I now know the value of that one thing people call trust.
By the way, Axis bank has lost the trust element by renaming itself. I wonder who came up with this idea because so far I can’t fathom what logic drove this decision. However, the recent efforts of HUL to juxtapose itself with HLL seem better off.
Just like that, another weekend is here. I shall be meeting up with ADNM (ref: this blog post). As I type this, I realize that Microsoft Word Dictionary is yet to include the word ‘blog’. Quite a basic error, I say.
I also plan to comment on ‘Not Just Jazz By The Bay’. I went there with Strato and a few other friends last weekend. The place rocked and so did our ears as we ended up seated right in front of the blazing speakers. All in all, I do not regret having spent 200 bucks to listen to it, and some more big bucks to eat inside that place. The Margaritas was particularly good, Sangria only so-so. In fact, I tasted better Sangria during my exchange days in
The foreigners seemed to be enjoying the music, and if that is your criteria of judging a band, you can say it rocked. But this is like saying everything videshi, from chaddi to chammach, is better than local stuff. I am not at a liberty of commenting in any greater detail because my knowledge of Jazz is about as high and deep as my knowledge of clandestine CIA missions.
But I liked the experience, and if I earned more, I would probably frequent that place, whenever I wanted a sound drumming of my ear drums. Right now, Strato is doing that thing to perfection!
He may look no better than the tea-vendor on a chowpatty beach, but he sings well. Sample this:
ishq junoon jab hadh se badh jaaye - 2hanste hanste aashiq suli chadh jaayeishq ka jaadu sar chadhkar bolekhoob laga lo pehre raste rab khole... Thursday, August 09, 2007
Ho Ho, Baap ban jaye...
Now I have been dealing with so many Chinki entities, I could as well name my -5 year old (or may be -6 or -7 year old) kid Zhing Shu Lee. As you can see, the gender won't matter! (And the next one, Yors Tru Lee! )
By the way, did you know that the names of 80% cities (and mohallas and gaons) in China end with 'aio'. Did you know that a major international bank has its origins in the Chinese opium trade? That Daimler Chrysler makes a cool 200 billion US dollars a years and Wal-Mart 350?
Life has been as revealing as Sharon Stone (don't ask which movie!). Weekdays seem to be passing by as fast as TGV trains. My speed of working has been surpassed by a limping snail. Mumbai's rain Gods drank diuretics thinking they were length enhancing pills - and we can see the after showers!
College life seems to be farther away than the poor ex-planet Pluto. I have been ogling at routers and we will get an internet connection soon. Last weekend I splurged a cool 20K. That is more than total miscellaneous expenses in the 5 months before that. But khair, I am earning now, and one only gets his or her first salary once in his or her life. So I bought nice nice gifts for people at home. And the much needed batteries for my old camera.
A message to all those people still in the college phase of life: Enjoy. Learn. Do what you can. When the office life begins, you will remember these days and long for them.
I spend 4.5 days waiting for the weekend and 0.5 day ruing the onset of another work week. I wake up at 8 am in the morning every day and sleep at 12.
Yeh mujhe kya ho gaya hai...
Meanwhile, my heart is working overtime and my mind has taken a sabbatical.
Once too often, my lost-in-thought phase has been broken by Strato's reminders that it is not good to stare at people. Especially other people's girl friends, even if they are wearing very curious things.
And here's a very interesting play of words...
"Aap jaisa koi, meri zindagi mein aaye,
to baap ban jayee,
ho ho,
baap ban jaye!"
By the way, did you know that the names of 80% cities (and mohallas and gaons) in China end with 'aio'. Did you know that a major international bank has its origins in the Chinese opium trade? That Daimler Chrysler makes a cool 200 billion US dollars a years and Wal-Mart 350?
Life has been as revealing as Sharon Stone (don't ask which movie!). Weekdays seem to be passing by as fast as TGV trains. My speed of working has been surpassed by a limping snail. Mumbai's rain Gods drank diuretics thinking they were length enhancing pills - and we can see the after showers!
College life seems to be farther away than the poor ex-planet Pluto. I have been ogling at routers and we will get an internet connection soon. Last weekend I splurged a cool 20K. That is more than total miscellaneous expenses in the 5 months before that. But khair, I am earning now, and one only gets his or her first salary once in his or her life. So I bought nice nice gifts for people at home. And the much needed batteries for my old camera.
A message to all those people still in the college phase of life: Enjoy. Learn. Do what you can. When the office life begins, you will remember these days and long for them.
I spend 4.5 days waiting for the weekend and 0.5 day ruing the onset of another work week. I wake up at 8 am in the morning every day and sleep at 12.
Yeh mujhe kya ho gaya hai...
Meanwhile, my heart is working overtime and my mind has taken a sabbatical.
Once too often, my lost-in-thought phase has been broken by Strato's reminders that it is not good to stare at people. Especially other people's girl friends, even if they are wearing very curious things.
And here's a very interesting play of words...
"Aap jaisa koi, meri zindagi mein aaye,
to baap ban jayee,
ho ho,
baap ban jaye!"
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Kuch aise pal...
This was one of those classic days when I wonder what karam I did in the last janam to deserve such a treatment at God's hands. I mean, sit inside a taxi and get stuck in a horrible traffic jam. Sit inside an auto and roam around for change, and in doing so, take an hour to travel a distance normally traversed in 30 mins. Raise my hands in despair and hear the thud of my hand hitting the ceiling fan. Ouch. Walk out of the office and get drenched in the rain that started barely a few minutes back. Choose local trains to reduce travel time, and encounter a fully packed bogie.
Sometimes life just seems to fail me. It feels like the happy things I think about when I go to sleep are a mirage. And the day after tomorrow, that mirage will fade away in the coldness of things.
Why? Why me? I ask.
I think its the typical human tendency. Selective Amnesia. I have forgotten all the times when I have felt at the top of the world. And I have been blessed. Very well, indeed. But God has this habit of poking a needle into the expanding balloon of expectations.
Sometimes, I do indeed deserve to be treated better. Hai na?
Tujhse naraaz nahi zindagi,
hairaan hoon mein,
hairaan hoon mein
Tere massoom sawalon se,
pareshan hoon mein...
Bas. Bahut ho gaya. Baki gana radio per suno.
Sometimes life just seems to fail me. It feels like the happy things I think about when I go to sleep are a mirage. And the day after tomorrow, that mirage will fade away in the coldness of things.
Why? Why me? I ask.
I think its the typical human tendency. Selective Amnesia. I have forgotten all the times when I have felt at the top of the world. And I have been blessed. Very well, indeed. But God has this habit of poking a needle into the expanding balloon of expectations.
Sometimes, I do indeed deserve to be treated better. Hai na?
Tujhse naraaz nahi zindagi,
hairaan hoon mein,
hairaan hoon mein
Tere massoom sawalon se,
pareshan hoon mein...
Bas. Bahut ho gaya. Baki gana radio per suno.
Friday, July 27, 2007
And again, and again...
Hmm. Hamare ghar mein, whatever be the size of the problem, the solution comes in BIG size. So for killing a cockroach ka bachcha, we have to buy one bottle of HIT. That kid cockroach now playing with apsaras, the HIT bottle is lying unused. Same with a lot of other things. Why doesn't everything come in satchet?
Of late, I have been reading some interesting stuff. I have subscribed to a few newsletters ( Daniel Primack - PE Wire, and PV Sahad). I also read about second life and wanted to try it out, but downloading it using a data card takes longer than I can wait for it. I bought a book (ghissu wali book hai, naam mat poochna!) and try to read it. I have printouts of a puzzle that I try once in a while.
Meanwhile, the only thing in our house higher than my tall room mate is the stack of our dirty clothes! I hate to wash dirty linen (in public or otherwise) but I guess I am left with no other option!
I have a lot of catching up to do. Waise, in the maze of world wide (spider web), a certain arachnid girl chose to call me chotu. Now, I am taller than the average Indian male. Am old enough to be called uncle by college going girls - but I don't need any black colored dye, thank you! It feels kind of weird. First I can't place you, and then you call me something more suited to two year olds. . . Kaun ho bhayeee?
Yaar yeh internet per dost banane ka chakker bahut ajeeb hai. Kind of like, raaste mein jo mila uske gale lag liye. Khair, not that I have not used internet/chat to my advantage, but I never quite understood the concept very well.
Chalo, abhi sone ka time hai. Darshak log yeh gana sunein...
Likhe jo khat tujhe, woh teri yaar mein,
hazaron rang ke sitare ban gaye...
Of late, I have been reading some interesting stuff. I have subscribed to a few newsletters ( Daniel Primack - PE Wire, and PV Sahad). I also read about second life and wanted to try it out, but downloading it using a data card takes longer than I can wait for it. I bought a book (ghissu wali book hai, naam mat poochna!) and try to read it. I have printouts of a puzzle that I try once in a while.
Meanwhile, the only thing in our house higher than my tall room mate is the stack of our dirty clothes! I hate to wash dirty linen (in public or otherwise) but I guess I am left with no other option!
I have a lot of catching up to do. Waise, in the maze of world wide (spider web), a certain arachnid girl chose to call me chotu. Now, I am taller than the average Indian male. Am old enough to be called uncle by college going girls - but I don't need any black colored dye, thank you! It feels kind of weird. First I can't place you, and then you call me something more suited to two year olds. . . Kaun ho bhayeee?
Yaar yeh internet per dost banane ka chakker bahut ajeeb hai. Kind of like, raaste mein jo mila uske gale lag liye. Khair, not that I have not used internet/chat to my advantage, but I never quite understood the concept very well.
Chalo, abhi sone ka time hai. Darshak log yeh gana sunein...
Likhe jo khat tujhe, woh teri yaar mein,
hazaron rang ke sitare ban gaye...
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Jaane kitne dinon ke baad,
Gulley mein aaj Chand nikla... or so goes the popular song.
Well, Janey kitne dinon ke baad, I hope, our housemaid will come for her chores. Its a pity how we have begun to depend on her. A few days of her absence have thrown our lives into a wild (and stinky and dirty) gear. Meanwhile, I am going through a long and deep ritual called life. Interspersed are those beautiful days called weekends, when I ketch up with Strato. Pre-Monday blues start on Sunday and the weekend spirit fills the air on Thursday night! Effectively, its a 4.5 day week. In a format borrowed from Chashmish, I will just jot down what I have been going through:
-clearly, I have acquired this habit of trying to fit every kind of written expression into bullets.
-I have begun to appreciate how missing out small details can lead to big errors. All my life, I have been known for making silly stupid mistakes. Forgetting people's names, adding instead of subtracting, confusing people's gender in the most awkward of situations, blurting out replies that dazed the audience and portrayed me as possessing an IQ level equaled only by Mallika, Paris and Pamela.
-I have been earning money now, and spending it as well. On flights, clothes and food mostly. Am going to splurge on buying gifts for people in a short while. A month back, I bought my first Swarovski. Can't describe in words how proud I felt of myself!
-I have been drawing up a lot of dreams, and intend to follow those up. I wonder how I can go on living my life, wondering once every fifth second whether I really want to keep on living the way I am.
-What makes people jealous? Which sinister chemical is it? Mujhe naam batao, mein uska khoon pee jaunga. What makes people lie? Us chemical ko to mein kachcha chaba jaunga.
-Love is not enough to live life with. You need cereals, milk, egg, bread, butter, a housemaid, laptop, cellphone and soan papdi as well.
-Sometimes, I really wish I could control the way I react to things. My own behavior at times makes me feel like a stranger to myself. How convoluted, hai na? But who do you complain to about yourself? Except yourself!
And so it has been pronounced. The maid ain't coming. In two days, the police will come because the neighbors will complain of the foul smell. My deodrant bottle will be used up in cleaning up the air here. There will be no more clothes to wear and I shall have to stay indoors. The Rin sales agent will request us to buy a bucket full of their stuff. Life will come to a standstill.
Zinda rahe doston and yarron,
to fir milenge.
Hum is baat se darte hue,
har roz sote hain,
wapis subeh jagenge
to gulistan nahi milega
kaddu hain hum
watan hai
ek gulistan hamara. . .
Well, Janey kitne dinon ke baad, I hope, our housemaid will come for her chores. Its a pity how we have begun to depend on her. A few days of her absence have thrown our lives into a wild (and stinky and dirty) gear. Meanwhile, I am going through a long and deep ritual called life. Interspersed are those beautiful days called weekends, when I ketch up with Strato. Pre-Monday blues start on Sunday and the weekend spirit fills the air on Thursday night! Effectively, its a 4.5 day week. In a format borrowed from Chashmish, I will just jot down what I have been going through:
-clearly, I have acquired this habit of trying to fit every kind of written expression into bullets.
-I have begun to appreciate how missing out small details can lead to big errors. All my life, I have been known for making silly stupid mistakes. Forgetting people's names, adding instead of subtracting, confusing people's gender in the most awkward of situations, blurting out replies that dazed the audience and portrayed me as possessing an IQ level equaled only by Mallika, Paris and Pamela.
-I have been earning money now, and spending it as well. On flights, clothes and food mostly. Am going to splurge on buying gifts for people in a short while. A month back, I bought my first Swarovski. Can't describe in words how proud I felt of myself!
-I have been drawing up a lot of dreams, and intend to follow those up. I wonder how I can go on living my life, wondering once every fifth second whether I really want to keep on living the way I am.
-What makes people jealous? Which sinister chemical is it? Mujhe naam batao, mein uska khoon pee jaunga. What makes people lie? Us chemical ko to mein kachcha chaba jaunga.
-Love is not enough to live life with. You need cereals, milk, egg, bread, butter, a housemaid, laptop, cellphone and soan papdi as well.
-Sometimes, I really wish I could control the way I react to things. My own behavior at times makes me feel like a stranger to myself. How convoluted, hai na? But who do you complain to about yourself? Except yourself!
And so it has been pronounced. The maid ain't coming. In two days, the police will come because the neighbors will complain of the foul smell. My deodrant bottle will be used up in cleaning up the air here. There will be no more clothes to wear and I shall have to stay indoors. The Rin sales agent will request us to buy a bucket full of their stuff. Life will come to a standstill.
Zinda rahe doston and yarron,
to fir milenge.
Hum is baat se darte hue,
har roz sote hain,
wapis subeh jagenge
to gulistan nahi milega
kaddu hain hum
watan hai
ek gulistan hamara. . .
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Radio kharab hai...
And just when I thought I could eat tonnes and tonnes of food without the slightest worry of gaining weight, I was proven wrong.
You know, there are many reasons why one should avoid eating good food.
-it is a bad thing to get used to (apart from mom, tea, liquour-type things and sleeping pills). phir jab achcha khana nahi milta to dil mein aur pet mein, donon jagah barabar dard hota hai.
-you have to spend more on new clothes as your older ones start to become too tight for your expanding girth. Not only that, the new clothes have to cover more surface area and hence they are costlier. However, that logic definitely does not apply to girls on screen, otherwise the Mallikas of the world would get their clothes for free (or almost, same difference!).
-morning walks are not a reliable means to tackle this heavy menace. On the day of your first morning walk, you sing 'jhoom barabar jhoom' in your office after lunch. And organize a labour strike asking a siesta break of 1 hour post lunch. On the second day, you decide to sleep a little longer in the morning(and everyone knows what that means!)
-you turn around to see who is following you and it turns out that it was your bum which, like the Hutch wala kutta, follows wherever you go
-a few seconds before you reach a place, you pot belly is already there.
-tying the knots of your own shoes will become impossible. And a lot of other aspects of your life will be affected beyond repair. Ab details mat poochna.
-you will become the favorite target of bhookhe bhediye machchars who will suck all the blood, for which you had to do the mehnat of eating and chewing. These machchars, the have such a easy, albeit somewhat short and snappy, life. Hai na?
But before all these nightmares haunt me, let me have my mouthful of sohanpapdis and all the sweet desi ghee filled sweets. Its such an irony, all the most desirable things come with disclaimers.
Strato has finally found her sweet abode. Many thanks to almighty God.
Many thanks to silent supporters and other people. I received a scrap with very kind words.
Thanks people :-)
You know, its a very tough war, this war against sloth. And those 5 more minutes of sleep that always lasts an hour and sends all your appointments (morning walk among other things) to hell shall always remain a mystery. Its easy to come back from office, watch TV and sleep. But the thought that there are at least some more computers where this web page will be opened (and read, hopefully) keeps me going.
Bas, aaj koi gana nahi bajega. Radio kharab hai.
You know, there are many reasons why one should avoid eating good food.
-it is a bad thing to get used to (apart from mom, tea, liquour-type things and sleeping pills). phir jab achcha khana nahi milta to dil mein aur pet mein, donon jagah barabar dard hota hai.
-you have to spend more on new clothes as your older ones start to become too tight for your expanding girth. Not only that, the new clothes have to cover more surface area and hence they are costlier. However, that logic definitely does not apply to girls on screen, otherwise the Mallikas of the world would get their clothes for free (or almost, same difference!).
-morning walks are not a reliable means to tackle this heavy menace. On the day of your first morning walk, you sing 'jhoom barabar jhoom' in your office after lunch. And organize a labour strike asking a siesta break of 1 hour post lunch. On the second day, you decide to sleep a little longer in the morning(and everyone knows what that means!)
-you turn around to see who is following you and it turns out that it was your bum which, like the Hutch wala kutta, follows wherever you go
-a few seconds before you reach a place, you pot belly is already there.
-tying the knots of your own shoes will become impossible. And a lot of other aspects of your life will be affected beyond repair. Ab details mat poochna.
-you will become the favorite target of bhookhe bhediye machchars who will suck all the blood, for which you had to do the mehnat of eating and chewing. These machchars, the have such a easy, albeit somewhat short and snappy, life. Hai na?
But before all these nightmares haunt me, let me have my mouthful of sohanpapdis and all the sweet desi ghee filled sweets. Its such an irony, all the most desirable things come with disclaimers.
Strato has finally found her sweet abode. Many thanks to almighty God.
Many thanks to silent supporters and other people. I received a scrap with very kind words.
Thanks people :-)
You know, its a very tough war, this war against sloth. And those 5 more minutes of sleep that always lasts an hour and sends all your appointments (morning walk among other things) to hell shall always remain a mystery. Its easy to come back from office, watch TV and sleep. But the thought that there are at least some more computers where this web page will be opened (and read, hopefully) keeps me going.
Bas, aaj koi gana nahi bajega. Radio kharab hai.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Cool gang and more...
ADNM - She is one of those rare people to have so many alphabets in her character. A frequent ex-work -companion with resemblance to Ninja turtle when happy and a golu fish when unhappy, breaker of many a heart in college, sentimental (meaning both senty and mental), quick like a rat, possessing a keen sense of saying the right words and choosing the right moments, the hidden delta function of TQ and much more, enough to fill many blog servers.
AnSi - The inspiration for the latest addition to OED - 'pedophile', his love(carnal, platonic or otherwise) for trees and trekking, razor sharp comments, bright prospects at a career in driving (taxis and autos), the soft (and dirty?) side of his personality, feelings for a certain girl one year above his stature, a nickname which stuck to him very well and fondness for a certain Mr Resham-miya are all too well known.
GauK - May Lord save me from his stinking jokes. A distinct way of saying 'Ta Da Dum Pum', the ter-ter jokes, annoying but haunting repartee, aversion to hygiene in any form, love of beer and many more memories still linger on while the man himself inhabits the galis of Gurgaon and instigates the kalis of Gurgaon.
JoX - He croons when he croons, and junta swoons. People are fazed not just by his heavy character. He has An appetite for tasty food, talent for acting, knowledge of eating joints,love for bikes, bad luck with being 'kabab mein haddi', and so on.
MonK - Acronyms can be poor reflections for people's characteristics. A heart of gold can be hidden by hands that pat and slap with alarming frequency! God knows I can't write anymore than this, for fear of life and more!
NiRa - He has featured before, as the CoffeeMate! He is my room mate and I refuse to reveal insider details except his love for milk and a generous heart.
Shawa - She belongs to the queendom of Jallandhar and Patiala. The one to evoke a riot among the turbaned lot with her 'adayein', this one has broken many a record on hygiene. Scared of lizards, fond of kids, storehouse of secrets, a fine example of chupee-huee-rustam, student of the TQ department, a proud mausi and a dear friend. Need I say more?
Shsh - Her stature is a poor proxy for her sharp wit and high TQ sense. Her hallmarks include deep Marathi instincts, love for fish, bikes and adventure, eagerness to be part of many things (and the capability as well), pokey but welcome nose and 'patli kamar' by her own confession.
That I wrote so many words can only mean two things - I am missing the good ol' days and I have more time than work.
Phir kya ho kya khabar,
dekha hai kisne kal...
AnSi - The inspiration for the latest addition to OED - 'pedophile', his love(carnal, platonic or otherwise) for trees and trekking, razor sharp comments, bright prospects at a career in driving (taxis and autos), the soft (and dirty?) side of his personality, feelings for a certain girl one year above his stature, a nickname which stuck to him very well and fondness for a certain Mr Resham-miya are all too well known.
GauK - May Lord save me from his stinking jokes. A distinct way of saying 'Ta Da Dum Pum', the ter-ter jokes, annoying but haunting repartee, aversion to hygiene in any form, love of beer and many more memories still linger on while the man himself inhabits the galis of Gurgaon and instigates the kalis of Gurgaon.
JoX - He croons when he croons, and junta swoons. People are fazed not just by his heavy character. He has An appetite for tasty food, talent for acting, knowledge of eating joints,love for bikes, bad luck with being 'kabab mein haddi', and so on.
MonK - Acronyms can be poor reflections for people's characteristics. A heart of gold can be hidden by hands that pat and slap with alarming frequency! God knows I can't write anymore than this, for fear of life and more!
NiRa - He has featured before, as the CoffeeMate! He is my room mate and I refuse to reveal insider details except his love for milk and a generous heart.
Shawa - She belongs to the queendom of Jallandhar and Patiala. The one to evoke a riot among the turbaned lot with her 'adayein', this one has broken many a record on hygiene. Scared of lizards, fond of kids, storehouse of secrets, a fine example of chupee-huee-rustam, student of the TQ department, a proud mausi and a dear friend. Need I say more?
Shsh - Her stature is a poor proxy for her sharp wit and high TQ sense. Her hallmarks include deep Marathi instincts, love for fish, bikes and adventure, eagerness to be part of many things (and the capability as well), pokey but welcome nose and 'patli kamar' by her own confession.
That I wrote so many words can only mean two things - I am missing the good ol' days and I have more time than work.
Phir kya ho kya khabar,
dekha hai kisne kal...
How Time Flies by
How time flies by! Only bats brimming with Glucon D can fly faster.
"Yeh duniya ke sabse tez udne walon mein se ek hai" - in the typical (and soft) Discovery Channel style.
I have become a regular office goer - 'daftar wala babu' as my sister chose to call me. Hmm. And an epitome of laziness and sloth as well. I mean, I work when I work, but it is not often that I work.
In the loooooooooong period that has passed by since I last posted anything new on this blog, numerous heart and teeth shattering things have happened. People have lost valuable stuff, and that includes trust in the naive assumption that the world is one nice place.
In fact, I guess it is a lesson learnt the real hard way. When we are in college, everything in life seems so hunky dory. The maximum trouble one faces is deciding what to do with free time, how to avoid the prying neighbours and suspecting security guards and in the worst case, somehow staying awake through a dose of lectures. Some profs in my college are ambassadors for sleeping pills.
I have finally stabilized in a rented home. Shudder. Mumbai real estate is a real pagalkhana. So many people paying so much money for a place which gets filled with drainage water. Dingy, rickety, claustrophobic houses being sold at terribly high rates.
Another indication of mehengai is the price of mangoes here. Contrast with Lucknow where, right at this moment, one gets fine dussehri mango for Rs 14 a kg. Ok lets make it 20. And in Mumbai, at that price point, I guess one can only manage to buy mango peel.
I have been planning to do a post (as in, write a post) on our 'cool gang'. It is a bunch of people ranging from matchstick-defying to Adnan Sami-defying. Watch out for this space.
Ajeeb daastan hai yeh,
kehan shuroo kehan khatam
Yeh manzilein hain kaun si,
na tum samajh sake na hum....
"Yeh duniya ke sabse tez udne walon mein se ek hai" - in the typical (and soft) Discovery Channel style.
I have become a regular office goer - 'daftar wala babu' as my sister chose to call me. Hmm. And an epitome of laziness and sloth as well. I mean, I work when I work, but it is not often that I work.
In the loooooooooong period that has passed by since I last posted anything new on this blog, numerous heart and teeth shattering things have happened. People have lost valuable stuff, and that includes trust in the naive assumption that the world is one nice place.
In fact, I guess it is a lesson learnt the real hard way. When we are in college, everything in life seems so hunky dory. The maximum trouble one faces is deciding what to do with free time, how to avoid the prying neighbours and suspecting security guards and in the worst case, somehow staying awake through a dose of lectures. Some profs in my college are ambassadors for sleeping pills.
I have finally stabilized in a rented home. Shudder. Mumbai real estate is a real pagalkhana. So many people paying so much money for a place which gets filled with drainage water. Dingy, rickety, claustrophobic houses being sold at terribly high rates.
Another indication of mehengai is the price of mangoes here. Contrast with Lucknow where, right at this moment, one gets fine dussehri mango for Rs 14 a kg. Ok lets make it 20. And in Mumbai, at that price point, I guess one can only manage to buy mango peel.
I have been planning to do a post (as in, write a post) on our 'cool gang'. It is a bunch of people ranging from matchstick-defying to Adnan Sami-defying. Watch out for this space.
Ajeeb daastan hai yeh,
kehan shuroo kehan khatam
Yeh manzilein hain kaun si,
na tum samajh sake na hum....
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Apna gharbaar
So far it is only a rented place I fondly call 'ghar'. And there aren't enough interested people to make it a bar. Hic. But its a nice friendly place. A tad too friendly I believe.
The transition from a college bhola bhala bachcha to an earning, "set types" according to some, and consumer of white goods [by which I don't mean gai ka doodh] happened over night. A generous heart, a mighty luck and you have it. AC wacey bhi lagwa liya. [ bas racy aur lacy ki bari hai ] If you get what I mean, don't tell. If you dont get what I mean, don't ask. Time will tell.
I miss the old innocent days. When I used to be college types. When little kids wouldn't accidently call me 'uncle'. When school going girls seemed too young, and PG girls too old.
[ Now : working and shirking girls are too old, college-going girls are too young ]
Its an interesting experience, going to numerous shops without intending to buy anything. Asking the shopkeeper informed questions to indicate a genuine curiosity. Beating the heating with cool AC air, and when the sweat has dried away, vanishing into thin air. Now is the right time to do it. In college days, the shopkeeper would instantly recognise the lack of interest in buying, and a few years from now, when pillow will cease to be a constant companion, it will become a matter of ijjat. And life and death.
In some sense, we still have a lot of conservative values. Whether it is for good or bad is a question only hindsight can decide. What values you ask me. Values that we display day in and day out.
"Oh they are living together. Unke parents ko pata nahi hoga"
"He dropped out of college. Fail ho gaya kya"
"Naukri lag gayee. Ab shadi kar lo"
I get too restless at times. It becomes next to impossible for me to keep on waiting. Reminds me of one of those positive negatives people like to write as a weakness on their CV - " I become impatient for results". I never can explain the situation in rational terms. May be, I could say, the flow in my stomach crosses Reynold's limit and becomes turbulent. The mind stops attending to anything else. It starts wandering at the speed of light and time stops. Ab isse jyada IIT mein padha nahi.
But thats what it is. A situation unfathomable to the strong willed and strong hearted. For kamzor dil wale like us, whose parents hated the taste of Safola, there is no recourse. Except to pray to God that time will help.
A nice ghazal:
Hoshwalon ko khabar kya, bekhudi kya cheez hai....
The transition from a college bhola bhala bachcha to an earning, "set types" according to some, and consumer of white goods [by which I don't mean gai ka doodh] happened over night. A generous heart, a mighty luck and you have it. AC wacey bhi lagwa liya. [ bas racy aur lacy ki bari hai ] If you get what I mean, don't tell. If you dont get what I mean, don't ask. Time will tell.
I miss the old innocent days. When I used to be college types. When little kids wouldn't accidently call me 'uncle'. When school going girls seemed too young, and PG girls too old.
[ Now : working and shirking girls are too old, college-going girls are too young ]
Its an interesting experience, going to numerous shops without intending to buy anything. Asking the shopkeeper informed questions to indicate a genuine curiosity. Beating the heating with cool AC air, and when the sweat has dried away, vanishing into thin air. Now is the right time to do it. In college days, the shopkeeper would instantly recognise the lack of interest in buying, and a few years from now, when pillow will cease to be a constant companion, it will become a matter of ijjat. And life and death.
In some sense, we still have a lot of conservative values. Whether it is for good or bad is a question only hindsight can decide. What values you ask me. Values that we display day in and day out.
"Oh they are living together. Unke parents ko pata nahi hoga"
"He dropped out of college. Fail ho gaya kya"
"Naukri lag gayee. Ab shadi kar lo"
I get too restless at times. It becomes next to impossible for me to keep on waiting. Reminds me of one of those positive negatives people like to write as a weakness on their CV - " I become impatient for results". I never can explain the situation in rational terms. May be, I could say, the flow in my stomach crosses Reynold's limit and becomes turbulent. The mind stops attending to anything else. It starts wandering at the speed of light and time stops. Ab isse jyada IIT mein padha nahi.
But thats what it is. A situation unfathomable to the strong willed and strong hearted. For kamzor dil wale like us, whose parents hated the taste of Safola, there is no recourse. Except to pray to God that time will help.
A nice ghazal:
Hoshwalon ko khabar kya, bekhudi kya cheez hai....
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Shauk Absorbers and Fools in anniversaries.
I had been cribbing about getting board at home with a complete lack of work to do. I was naadaan! After 5 days of separation from internet-ben, I finally checked my emale to find a shauk. Miebank had decided to paripone my entry into the world of salaried men. O bhayee. What a rush yaar! But like other shauks, I had to absorb this one as well. And now, this bhola bhaala bachcha will enter the grind of corporate juggernaut in less than a week.
Last Sunday, my bhaiya celebrated his first marriage anniversary. How time flies by, we all [at least the rest of us] say! And there were so many bookays, one whole tabull was filled with fools.
What do you do when :
-someone asks you, "Why are you", instead of the more popular expression. Actually to this one, you could say, "Cogito Ergo Sum", but every reader worth his/her TQ will agree that the question treads on a dangerous territory. The details and further thoughts are best banished even before conception!
-you gift someone flowers and she/he takes more care of them than you ever thought possible. And the bookey you thought would last a few days is not discarded till it really must be!
-you see people living in conditions you had only seen on TV or in movies. The filth and dirt strikes a deep cord inside you, and you wonder how humans can get acclimatized to accepting such a treatment and still appearing grateful.
-you can't lose something for everything or everything for something, but something is everything while everything is only something
-you must choose between jalebi, watermelon and rossagulla!
An Esteem LXi with very low esteem has held its poise under my driving in the cantonment area. While driving, I had to floor the brakes whenever a truck appeared, whenever I got to less than 5 meters from the behind of any human being and whenever the navigator said anything more complicated than take left or take right. Like, "look, there's a car coming from the left". Luckily, jaan aur maal ki koi honey nahi hui.
From the movie Anwar: (link to full lyrics of the song)
...
Its a wonderful song from the movie Anwar. Really recommended for movie buffs, normal human beings and gundas!
Last Sunday, my bhaiya celebrated his first marriage anniversary. How time flies by, we all [at least the rest of us] say! And there were so many bookays, one whole tabull was filled with fools.
What do you do when :
-someone asks you, "Why are you", instead of the more popular expression. Actually to this one, you could say, "Cogito Ergo Sum", but every reader worth his/her TQ will agree that the question treads on a dangerous territory. The details and further thoughts are best banished even before conception!
-you gift someone flowers and she/he takes more care of them than you ever thought possible. And the bookey you thought would last a few days is not discarded till it really must be!
-you see people living in conditions you had only seen on TV or in movies. The filth and dirt strikes a deep cord inside you, and you wonder how humans can get acclimatized to accepting such a treatment and still appearing grateful.
-you can't lose something for everything or everything for something, but something is everything while everything is only something
-you must choose between jalebi, watermelon and rossagulla!
An Esteem LXi with very low esteem has held its poise under my driving in the cantonment area. While driving, I had to floor the brakes whenever a truck appeared, whenever I got to less than 5 meters from the behind of any human being and whenever the navigator said anything more complicated than take left or take right. Like, "look, there's a car coming from the left". Luckily, jaan aur maal ki koi honey nahi hui.
From the movie Anwar: (link to full lyrics of the song)
...
mujhse yeh har ghadi, mera dil kahe
tum hi ho uski aarzoo,
mujhse yeh har ghadi, mere lab kahe
teri hi ho sab guftagoo
baatein teri itni haseen, mein yaad inko jab karta hoon
phoolon si aaye, khusboo
...
Also:
...
kshama ko pigalne ka armaan kyun hai???
patange ko jalne ka armaan kyun hai???
isi shaqt ka intehaan zindagi hai
isi shaqt ka intehaan zindagi hai
Its a wonderful song from the movie Anwar. Really recommended for movie buffs, normal human beings and gundas!
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Lazy bijnessmen and long walks.
April 08 2007
Amaa yaar, mein pareshan ho
The keyboard cable of my desktop was as helpless under the heavy handling of ‘Safe’xpress as a bollywood heroine in the garage of Shakti Kapoor. Bebas. Laachaar. And the nearest computer shopwalla guy refuses to solve the issue expediently. Till then, I am sharpening my skills in Solitaire and Minesweeper. And resolving channel conflicts at home. And spending a crazy amount of time surfing through channels without watching them. And so on.
I like to go on long walks [in the background: zindagiiiiiiii, kaisi hai paheli haiye….]. To counter the attack of the forces of boredom, I went on a walking spree this evening. Mom claims it must have been six kilometers while I only attach a more modest four kilometer tag to it. I had almost reached the point where they say, “Thank you for your visit to
But try it once if you have never done it. Stop wondering about where you are going. Not advisable if you often forget the way back from your toilet to kitchen. But otherwise, it is fun. Just walking, without concerns, time limit or destination. Brisk walking, almost to the point where the only pedestrians who overtake you are chain snatchers. Tiring, stiffening your calf muscles, but not painful. The advantage of being alone on such a walk is that it makes the task of tackling the traffic easier, especially if you are traversing through the narrow roads of old
Ridiculous. That is how I greet the notion that fresh, raw oysters, sprinkled with salt and pepper could be a delicacy. Let the channels show famous connoisseurs of dining and wining eat with relish oysters, new-born crocodiles, fish eyes and ostrich organs. Doesn’t matter if ‘refined’ people call me lacking in taste. I am content with calling Catwoman the woman without substance. Except in some places.
From the movie Inteha:
Dhalne lagi hai raat, koi baat keejiye
Kat jayegi yeh raat, koi baat keejiye
Hai zindagi ka sath, koi baat keejiye
Kat jayegi yeh raat, koi baat keejiye
Jane tanhayee, humse kya keh rahi hai
Dil ki gehrayee, humse kya keh rahi hai
Ek ek pal ke saath, koi baat keejiye
Ban ker rahegi baat, koi baat keejiye ...
Summary: koi baat keejiye.
News from the bored-room.
April 07, 2007
“Khabar ko todte hue” scream all news channels. All day long, poor souls keep breaking news. And each bit of news is repeated until you can recount the sequence in which security guards will move in the footage, the order in which the headlines will be read and the crooked question that netaji will parry away.
My own discovery, meanwhile, is that there are at least one thousand crappy, absolutely unwatchable movies for each worth watching. There are some good programs though they also get repeated around 5 times in the week. Discovery’s favorites are snakes, crocs and sharks. But I have begun to like MaxX, Ripley’s, Guinness, KBC II and Laughter Challenge. And I have lost count of Prison Break.
The likes of Van Diesel and Stallone have made it look like breaking a man’s skull with one solid punch is easier than watching TV. Or breaking news.
From the movie Fanaa:
Yeh saazish hai boondon ki
Kuch khwahish hai chup chup si
Dekho na… dekho na…Chinese torture.
April 06, 2007
A particular channel has gone into a mad frenzy of showing Chinese martial arts movies [are other genres available?] Every movie begins with a funny casting. Jin Hu as Lu Jong. Mao Lee as Jen Ton. Sounds like a random collection of one [or at most two] syllable sounds. Imagine the gujju version of that famous person : Ang Sang Su Chche. [Majaa maa].
To mothers around the world wary of my charming skills: please be calm. While circumstantial evidence can prove anything, I am no Shakti Kapoor. And daughters around the globe are safe. The PYT killer stands tamed, having himself fallen prey to a PYT. The PYT, I should say!
The idea of not having to return back to IIMA campus sounds as ridiculous as watching Scary Movie 3 at home. And as desirable, at this hour. By the way, it is on air right now but a squad of mahila morcha has captured the TV post. All sorts of saas bahu sounds can be heard in that vicinity, and I am steering clear of that area.
Working for a name that is known among common people has its disadvantages. People ask awkward questions. Someone asked me “Which branch are you posted in?” when she got to know that I will be working in a bank. I somehow diverted the discussion, confident that in her throat, waiting to be emitted, were the words: “Humein home loan chahiye”. At times like these I wish I worked for Hun Jin Tao Corporation which manufactured unmentionable somethings. Due apologies if something exists by that time.
Also important: Today pappu turns 23. Its time people stopped defaming the Farex baby by likening Pappu’s laughing buddha posture to a Farex baby smile. For the uninitiated, this refers to a comparison in Images 2007, the yearbook published at IIMA for the batch of 2007. Strato seems to enjoy the comparison, and as cute and lovely as it may sound coming from her, my heart goes out for the poor farex baby. “Chal hat, pervert” I hear her snub me!
Beghar in my dreams.
April 05, 2007
These days, I dream of Chumree. And I must sympathize with non-Mumbaikars who might confuse Chumree to be a distant cousin of Chameli. Lord forbid, mein abhi tak seedha sadha bachcha hi hoon.
I dream of a roof to live under and protect my izzat, or whatever remains of it. Fir usmein ghar grihasti bhi basani hai.
And before other things are said and ignored, or lost in air, Pappu pass ho
Extreme worklessness, I have discovered, is the surest way to madness. And I have been trying hard to fend off the latter. As of the former, till such time as the GoodKnights and Caspers are doing their job well in Mumbai, I am workless. As workless as a dead ant. And I don’t even have formic acid to pinch and pain the humans around me.
I laid my hands on Mark Tully’s collection of short stories. While I admire his love for
Off late I have also been wondering if the carrots and fish I have eaten so far would suffice to stave off the danger of eyeglasses from a hefty dose of TV. I guess God decided to compensate for the previous few years that I spent almost without watching TV except for brief spells. Maa kasam, and many people including the likes of Strato would vouch for this. Meri nazar Rampuri churi se bhi tez hai. Door door ki cheezein dhoondh leti hain.
Before I met Strato, I used to be able to spot interesting targets from as far away as a mile. If only I had applied in time to Guinness-wala bhai who keeps all those records. Subuk Subuk, ab to bahut der ho gayee hai.
Phases and Faces.
April 04, 2007
Life has so many phases – some completely unforgettable ones. And it is surprisingly similar with faces. Many of them and some unforgettable ones.
You know na, I write arbit stuff to avoid writing senty stuff. [In the true Diamond comics style: subuk subuk ]
I attended my second convocation in a little less than 2 years. I am now officially an engineer and a manager. Can feel my chest become [oops – rhyming can be a dangerous business!]. Rephrase: Can feel my chest inflate with false pride. The convocation at IITK was held inside the AC auditorium. Here at IIMA, they decided to do things their own sweet (and hot) way. So the convocation was held in the open grounds, with every recipient exuding more sweat than either pride or happiness. I sympathize profusely with Dr Singhania’s right palm.
There was a method even in this madness. Just preceding the convocation was the group photograph session for the batch of 2007. And it is a miracle how they fit in 300 robed men and women in such a small space and kept them there for deep roasting that lasted a full hour. Anything that followed this had to be a relief for all the harried souls and thus, the convocation ended up being more relieving than it would otherwise have been.
Life suddenly seems as barren as
I also have a lot in my agenda for the next month or so. Matlab bahut ho
There’s also a connection between me and watches. Matlab ek hi saans mein Vyom, watch aur gift bol do to Jupiter mein explosion ho jayega. I have gifted five watches, bought two and been gifted two. Phew. All this even before I have earned anything working full time. The latest one comes from Bhaiya and Bhabhi, a combined belated birthday and placement gift. Ooooh la la la.
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