Crocodile Dundee

And on the 18th day of the fifth month, when the sun was at its highest point in the sky, the creature reappeared. Previous sightings were reported but the People refused to believe. "Nay", they said, and the People rejoiced. But on the tenth second, of the eleventh minute, of the twelth hour of that faithful day a voice was heard, "Oh soooo sweet", and the silence was broken. The door was swung open, 'swoosh', and through it emerged two ladies as they thought to themsleves, 'Blessed arth those who saweth and still didn't believeth cause otherwise they might have skwished it'. And the People rejoiced.

Then a 'fat boy slim' who had just travelled 'far far away' to an unknown land crossed their path. He sensed that something was not right (studies have shown that hindsight is more accurate). He had just attended nature's call when he heard another call, "Are you afraid of lizards ?". The reverberations of that question spread far and wide and touched the very bearings of his soul. Should he say YES or should he tell them the truth; but the truth was something which he had not thought of till this moment. And so he giveth himself the benefit of the doubth and exerted no resistance as the words were formed from carefully uttered syllables. "Nope", he speaketh as he wondered, 'Which God fearing man would tell a girl that he is afraid of reptiles". And the People rejoiced.

"Cometh with us then oh fearless one. You have to catcheth a lizard". Oops! For that one second time stoppeth as he sensed that something was wrong (studies have shown that foresight is more valuable). To prepare himself for the task at hand he thought of previous encounters. Like when he brought down a bat with a badminton racket and a fast moving ceiling fan to confuse its radar. And the time earlier in the day when he shot (with a camera) a snake in the desert. And then there was also the time he stood faceth to faceth with a lion; but that was in a zoo and so he shrugged off that thought. And the People rejoiced.

"Oh its a baby", and he was handed a piece of folded paper. 'Thats a baby', he wondered as he wondered even more, 'Holy cow. How big does it grow'. But then he realised where he was; in a ladies toilet! He had seeneth a movie in which a lizard was flushed down the bottomless pit and it became a big crocodile cause of toxic waste. He flushed down that thought as the big little one wriggled from one spot to the next, inches away from his hand. He had also always wondered if a ladies toilet was kept cleaner but he shrugged off that thought as he began to admire the beauty of nature. This lizard was nice and colorful, not like the grey dull ones back home, though it was similar in size. They stood there mesmerised as the azure stars floated across the yellowish sunlite raindrops that cavorted their way to the moist earth that sprung up green flaura. And the People rejoiced.

He realised that the tool to transport the big little one was inappropriate as it was unwilling to accept a free ride from strangers. 'Its mama thought it well. This won't worketh', he thought, as he summoned his senses to come upeth with a planeth. By Jupiter! plan plan not planeth, it started to get confusing!!!! The result of which was a container to cover the reptile and the unfolded paper to slide under it and cover the opening. He was commended for his quick analytical skills as he carried that entity to the outside world to fit it back into the huge jigsaw puzzle; stars to stars, raindrops to raindrops, sunshine to sunshine, earth to earth, flaura to flaura. And the People rejoiced.

And the news spread far and wide and people began to appear from the East and from the West and from the Land of plenty (the cafeteria). His praises were sung which made this 'fat boy slim' cool for an ephemeral second; inspite of his tight pants and his geeky haircut. Which was indeed a miracle. And the People rejoiced.

Videos of the 2004:Har Ki Dun trek

I found some amateur video clips from way back in 2004, when we had gone trekkig to Har Ki Dun. A writeup of the trek can be found out here. Listen to the audio too.

Children of Osla
-----------------
The village 'Osla' is situated on the way to Har Ki Dun. I took out some clips of the children out there. Its a nice cosy little village neatly tucked into the mountain sides. I decided to capture all those little kids; the 'Children of Osla'. Majid Majidi style ? Not even close :-)




Cradled Amongst Mountain Peaks
-----------------------------------
Har Ki Dun is situated at a height of about 11200 feet, picturesquely cradled amongst mountain peaks. We trekked thru rain and snow and sun soaked skies for around 7 days. Trekking in snow is both tiresome and exhilirating. Loved the trek.




Folk Songs from the mountains
---------------------------------
Nehra who was a local sang us some folk songs on our trek to Har Ki Dun. One of the songs was about this guy who was in love with this girl from his village and how he broke the news to her...




The Loooooooong Walk
---------------------------
I've patched together clips of us joyfully frolicking along the path to Har Ki Dun.




The Killer Tadpoles at Mystic River
---------------------------------------
We took a days rest at Camp Mystic River wher we bathed after around 5-6 days. The next morning we went to some natural pools tucke in the mountains.




Blair which project ?
--------------------
We camped in tents on the way back from Har Ki Dun. This video is taken at night, inside one of the tents.

I always wanted to quit on a monday morning

Its a Monday morning. The Director of Engineering comes up to me. We go back a long way. We've built some pretty good bluetooth consumer products as a team. He is known for his pragmatism and is one of the people who I expect to be brutally honest with me. Glances are exchanged and I see a white envelope in his hand, his fingers follow a rythmic motion as they point to the issue at hand. The expression on his face is hard to decipher, and so is mine. We decide to go to a quiter place to talk. He hands me the envelope and tells me to read the contents before I sign them. I remove the paper from within. "Thats the resignation letter. All you have to do is sign. Take your time." The expression on my face is still hard to decipher and so is his. We talk about life and the livin of it in general. About the options we have and the choices we make. Expressions are decipherable, we smile. I dump the envelope in my bag.

I'm alone. The envelope commands an audience. I remove it from its covering. It lies there naked, open to the elements as the words communicate their intentions. The pen feels heavy as I gulp down nostalgia. Its done.

Ok time to sign the other document. The offer letter from the parent company. Just some paperwork and legal stuff :-) I was wondering if I should sign the resignation letter first or the offer letter. Or sign the resignation letter then relax and be jobless for sometime and then sign the offer letter :-)

How Alice Got laid, Got sleepy and Got a haircut.

This article is an attempt towards understanding precipitants of anxiety experienced by a child when he gets a haircut. The danger posed by this experience is compared to a surgical procedure and seen as unique because unlike surgery, a haircut is not actually painful. Nonetheless, haircuts can precipitate great anxiety in children. Some sources of the anxiety caused by haircuts across libidinal lines of development are considered, and examples are presented. Ways to help ease the anxiety of this experience are discussed.

ok ok.... the above paragraph was picked verbatim from the third dimension. Public apology and all that :-) The content from here on is mine. First 'The Haircut'. [click on the picture to see the enlarged version]

A brief history of time and my conversations with barbers.

Age 7: The discovery of Hair
Barber: "Kaise ?"
Allaboy: "chota!!! mujhe kangi pasand nahi hai.... bahoot chota.... baal bahoot jaldi bade ho jate hai yaar!!! ek mahine tak cutting nahi karni hai... utna chota karna...", and then I would leave it to him, closing my eyes, relaxing in the chair.

Age 10: The discovery of The Mirror
Barber: "usual? short?"
Allaboy: "Errrr... hmmm."

Age 14: The discovery of Girls
Barber : "usual? short?"
Ali: "Naaaaa.... short from the sides. This much length out here.... like this out here.... blah blah blah blah".

Age 17 : The discovery of Women
Barber: "Aaj kaisa ?"
Alice: "Voh jo movie hai na..... blah blah blah.... parting left side pe hai... "

Age 21: The discovery of Ladies
Barber: "Sirji aap pe ye style accha lagega".
Alice: "Aajkal style kya chal raha hai.... blah blah blah... parting right side pe hai...".

Age 24: The discovery of the receding hairline.
Barber: "Usual ?"
Alice: "Haaji.... yahan se chota... aur uppar se lamba rakhna.... especially ye side walla part.... idar se baal aise aana chahiye.... ye part lamba hi rakhna haan... setting theek se karna... blah blah blah.... middle parting hai ..... "

Current Age: The discovery of global warming and the new effects of gravity.
The barber asked me, "Short?". I groggily mumbled, "Err, hmmmm.... hmmm...", almost ready for a siesta. And well, yeah.... thats about it. He cut my hair. So here are some of the reactions from friends:

The feminine gender
1) AAAgggghhhhhh !!!!!! what happened !!!!!
2) What did you do.... Sheeeeeeeee!!!!!
3) You look like Caesar... hehehehehehehe
4) oh my Gawd !!!!!
5) you look like those little naughty boys.... hehehehehe
5) [Silence. Just stare]
6) [Talking to me with rapid eye movement, checking out the sudden change in geography]

The masculine gender
1) hmmmm so as I was saying blah blah....
2) summer crop. nice....
3) just like your school days. You look the same.
4) you look like Sid in 'Dil Chahta Hai'

My reason: well wanted to see how I looked in a very short crop. Losing weight from the top anyway :-)

Glossary:
Got laid: rested behind on the chair in the saloon
Got sleepy: felt sleepy
Got a haircut: Got a haircut

Who is Priya Sharma !!!!!!!

This incident took place sometime back. I have been itching to blog about it but then again was wondering how to break the story. Anyways here goes.

I was at a friend's place the night before, where we played cards till 5 in the morning. We did take a break inbetween at around 2am and had coffee on the terrace, watching planes land and take off. The next morning I went to church where I prayed for clarity, something which is often elusive, denying me its company. I battled with rational from the heart and the mind and decided that today was indeed the day to make declarations. And so I called up my mother aka Mamamia aka Mumzee.

"Hello baba... how are you ?", her voice taking on an overtone of delight. "I'm ok", I replied in an undertone. "The little fellow is making so much of masti. He is soooo cute.", and then she told me about all the things at her end. "hmmmm", I replied every now and then, as if trying to punctuate the dialogue with subtleties of another one that lay in the darkness, begging to break free. "What happened?", my actions directed her question in the right direction. "Nothing", I replied. "What... your just saying hmmm, hmmmm. What happened?". It was a tone I recognised. The stage was set, her complete attention was captured; heart, mind and soul.

"Errr..... I wanted to tell you something", I paused as I let thoughts metamorphise and anxiety and curiousity tap emotions. Silence tiptoed, only to be broken by, "What happened?". The rhetoric of tones strengthened my choice of words, "Err.... here... just talk to her", words that transferred the burden of dialogue to the girl standing next to me. "Hello Aunty. This is Priya Sharma, I'm Alistair's friend. How are you?". I stood there as I imagined my mother's response. "How is Sydney and how is the little fellow. Alistair told me all about him. He also got me this Easter egg today. Easter is next sunday na." A smile brimmed my lips finding its way from deep within. "I'm working in Bangalore. I met Alistair a year back". The conversation between the two carried on for 10 minutes and then I took the phone back.

"So", the voice from the other end had reached even higher overtones. "So", I replied in rhetoric. And then I spoke about work and things I've been upto and went on for sometime. "So baba", the voice from the other end beamed. "Errrrr...", I interrupted, "Talk to her brother". And so that conversation went on for a couple of minutes and the phone found its way back into my hands.

"So", the syllable repeated itself. "Err... so what else is going on out there". My mom then talked about the Mr Bean movie that had just been released and tried to talk about things, all the time being preoccupied with the question that finally beamed forth, "So, do you want to tell me something?". And then I decided to let her in on what she wanted to hear all along, "April Fool!!".

Addie, Richa, Shyam and I then went through our phone contact list to find new bakras. We used the name 'Priya Sharma' each time. First we called Pallavi, Ayush's wife. Ayush is an ex -flatmate and a colleague from work. Some background first. Another ex-flatmate had morphed this picture of Ayush and this girl during his jobless days. It was a pretty good piece of morphing I must add. Pallavi hasn't seen the picture yet. A very decent picture with Ayush smiling to glory. His moustache giggling with joy :-)

So Richa told Pallavi that she was a friend of Ayush and that there was this photograph that someone had morphed with the two of them together. Richa then went on to mention that she was getting engaged soon and that the photograph somehow had found its way to her to-be inlaws. The picture seems to be causing some tension and it would be nice if Pallavi could talk to her in-laws. Pallavi then told her that she would call her back. She then called me up and tried to see if I knew anything about it, which of course I didn't. But I did ask her to ask Ayush about Priya Sharma. And then I could only imagine the scene as Ayush replied, "Err.... But her name was not Priya Sharma".

The next on the list was Himanshu. He had asked me to touch up an article that he wrote, which finally manifested itself in its final form out here. Read his article and you will understand which avatar Priya Sharma was transformed into this time. He knew we were fooling and played along. It turned out to be a fun day for him and his friends as it was for us.

We then called up a couple of other friends and Priya Sharma or her father or brother spoke to them :-)

Finally we decided to end the day with our meeting with Himanshu at Cafe Coffee Day in Forum :-)

On the way I felt a bit guilty of playing with emotions a bit too much. Apologise for any harm done and hope that everyone took it in the spirit of April 1st.... till the next April 1st.

Reflections: The road ahead

Reflections: The Road Ahead
-----------------------------------
Speed. Heat. Beauty. Light.
Ephemeral windows.
Burning bright.

Shrieking silence. Shifting load.
Wandering minstrels.
Banking road.

Earth. Water. Wind. Fire.
Past continuous.
Renewing pyre.

Multiple refractions. Certainty bled.
Full circle.
The Road Ahead.

----- Alistair D'souza (24th April 2007)

Went biking to tamilnadu sometime back and got radiantly burnt. We zoomed past the banking on the road, the expansion of the elements and the refraction at various levels; which laid out before us those ephemeral reflections on the road surface.

The road is nice throughout, 2 lanes on either side. Kinda like a bloggers day out... Reema, Maddy, Goli and moi. The place is called Yelegiri. We did a total of about 350+ kms that day. Real nice ride, especially the reflections.

Breaking News!!! from the frontlines

The air was calm with no one in view. Weird voices were heard in the distance, a foreign dialect. He slowly moved his head above to widen his range of sight and then he ducked. Heart beats accelerated; it was now or never!

Heart pounding. Unknown waters. Outlines of objects. Deja vu. Spirit of adventure. Moving ahead. Conquering territory. Inch by inch. Conquering fears. One by one. The boy on his very first reconnaissance mission. A whiff of the Winds of Change and the wild duel that lurked in his mind. He looked up to where eagles dare. Stripped to bare necessities. Nothing to bare.

The choice was his and his alone. So he slowly and cautiously moved above the first obstacle. Fear again. Unknown thoughts. Unknown sights. He stopped for a moment to breathe in the ambience and regain his composure. Paper Monsters, all of them. Inertia finally took charge. He moved again and climbed to the top and slowly looked over the edge. Panting prose. Vast canyon. Razor's edge. Overwhelming triumph. And finally the war cry," Goo. Goo. Boo. Ech. Oiee. Goo. Goo. Gee Gee Geeeeeeeee. Eeeeeee. Boooo."

Flight of the phoenix. Dare to try. Nothing to lose. Maybe I'll fly. "Whiiieeeeeeeeeeeee". PLOP!!!!!!

War cry again!!! And this time till the fat lady sang.

Credits: (in order of appearance)
Cliff jumper ------- My little 5 month old nephew
Fat Lady who Sang -------------- Fat Lady who can sing.

Prequel:
I was told that I had a sling when I was below 1 year cause of some similar exploits.

Sequel:
Conversations with 'The Godfather'.

Burning Bridges

There is a thin line between arson and a friendly fire starter, between burning bridges and setting them on fire; and the difference is crucial. One destroys, the other builds; but the line is often blurred.

The First Mile

Click the picture to enlarge

It was just a random pic from the 2005 bangalore half marathon, sometime during May. It was my first attempt at a half marathon. The picture appeared in 'India Today Simply Bangalore April 2007 Edition'.

my body looks all contorted and stuff... and I look like I'm huffing and puffing.... it was just 1.5 kms from the start.... :-)

And so I began to wonder about the possible reasons that could have put me in that state:
1) ran too fast initially cause the crowd was moving too fast. And so I got syked, got touchy and decided to keep up with everyone else or atleast with the front runners and then realised I couldn't.
2) ate too many bananas/jam sandwitches before the start of the run :-)
3) was listening to a song with a fast tempo. My brain converted the tune into beats of 8 and subconsciously I tried to maintain that tempo.
4) saw a beautiful girl running ahead and was trying desperately to keep up.
etc etc

pick one or add a new one :-)

Madness, Fireflies and Chocolate mint liqueur

The fireflies festival this year was from 14th april 6PM to 15th april 6AM….

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fireflies_Festival_of_Sacred_Music

the wikipedia link contains the list of performers for this year… the Jazz guy you see out there is the one who operated on Dhruv’s knee…. i.e. Dr Chandy…. They had have some sufi, qawali, jazz, gypsy and Hindustani classical stuff….

I have been religiously going for it over the past two years…. The first year we had pillows … the second year we took mattresses…. My accounts of previous years are below….

2005: Madness, Fireflies and Chocolate Mint Liqueur
2006: Madness, Fireflies and Chocolate Mint Liqueur

2007: Madness, Fireflies and Chocolate Mint Liqueur

I was considered as a veteran and was consulted about the route, the timings, the directions, the cushioning mechanisms (for which I gave details examples :-) ), the type of music, the food, the ambience and blah blah blah....

Lakshmi, Srujana, Vinod, Simmi and Sunny joined Dhruv and myself. Relevant things were picked along the way and a matress and cushions were shoved into the car. As we arrived near the place I pointed out to the right; the deviation we had to take from the main road. Oh and with so much certainty!!! "Thats the turn. See I remembered it. It may be dark but I somehow remember the turn", I boasted, being the veteran that I was.

Oops!!!! wrong turn!!!!

So we retraced our path and went ahead on the main road and then found the right 'right' turn :-) So now we needed some manuveuring amongst those intersecting roads. "Turn there!!!!", I said again with so much certainty; trying to regain my post as navigator.

Oops!!!! wrong turn!!!!

Lost is translation yet again..... Sigh!!!!!

Lucha de Gigantes - Amores Perros

Got this from a movie called 'Amores Perros' that I had seen sometime back. I heard the song in Spanish lyrics and liked the tune, while I read the subtitles. And then it turned out that I liked the lyrics of the song too :-) The song is in Spanish and I have put down the translated lyrics.you can hear the song out here. The acoustic version is here.

For Luciano, because we are also what we have lost.

A giants' joust turns the air into natural gas
A wild duel warns me
How close I am of going into an outrageous world
I feel my fragility
Some nightmare running away
With a beast after me
Tell me everything's a lie
Just a silly dream and nothing more
I'm afraid of enormity
Where nobody hears my voice
Stop the deception
Don't try to hide
That you've never tripped while moving around
Paper monster
I don't know who I'm up against
Or is there somebody else here?
I believe in the terrible ghosts
Of some strange place
And in my foolishness to make you burst into laughter
In an outrageous world
I feel your fragility
Stop the deception
Don't try to hide
That you've never tripped while moving around
Paper monster
I don't know who I'm up against
Stop the deception
Don't try to hide
That you've never tripped while moving around
Paper monster
I don't know who I'm up against
Or is it that maybe there is somebody else here?
Or is it that maybe there is somebody else here?
Or is it that maybe there is somebody else here?

---- From the movie 'Amores Perros'

Wanted: A Bride

Marriages are made in Heaven, and broken on earth. This is probably my tagline for my perpetual state of bachelorhood. But then again there are many realities. They say wisdom comes with age, but in my case age has just showed up all of a sudden. Not to say that women don't find me attractive. No, no, no, no, no.... and let this be inscribed in the third dimension. As I was reiterating, I have 'dated' all the beautiful women in my neighbourhood, and their neighborhoods for that matter. The only problem is 'Then I wake up'.

Being a computer engineer, aka 'a geek', I have always been preoccupied with the idea of starting something on my own; thinking, copulating the next big thing. Sitting day after day in solitary dimensions, spinning my cocoon, enveloping all. After a string of false starts my finances dwindled to the tune of a discharged amplifier; further affecting my listings on the matrimonial stock exchange. Aha! Maybe thats why I have had no luck with cupid. I had just proved the fixed quantum theory of love. Aha again!!!! I was just this free radical with an unpaired electron. Highly reactive and ever ready to help out with random chemical processes.

Realising that something was missing in my kingdom, I decided to become proactive. And so in the pursuit of the unknown, I started a blog so that women could 'hit' on me. Well I did get a lot of hits but that just got my blog rating up. I then started jogging and at times had 4-5 women running after me. But then I realised that I was pacing random alluring paths, losing sight of the task at hand. I finally decided to consult my more experienced engineering friends. Pierced by the nakedness of my plight, my electrical engineering friend, nicknamed Spark, said that when you get married you discover what real happiness is, but then its too late. Its better to have a mistress. The very thought 'electrified' his senses. My architect friend totally disagreed and said it was better to start a family in order to build a 'strong foundation' for the future. I, on the other hand felt it was better to have both. Then either one would think I'm with the other and that would give me more time to spend doing my own thing. My friends then suggested that I try out the trial and error method. you know, if you find that you'll are not compatible, divorce her. The thought of having more than one wife was ok, but more than one mother-in-law. NO WAY!

The next evening I graced the wedding of my neighbour; for the free food and some rampant ogling. Then it happened; in between ecstasy and dessert, my wandering pupils were stunned to discover how old the bride was. At first I thought 'Love is blind', 'Age is no bar' or 'Maybe cause he is an archeologist'. But later when I learn't that she was the heiress to a large fortune, everything became clear. I met my wise neighbour after a couple of months and requested him to shower me with words of wisdom to which he first thought for an hour. Finally breaking his meditative silence he looked at me and uttered, "Marriage is a mistake we all make." He then thought for another hour and said, "For me marriage is a means to more important ends, it is not an end in itself". So with those words of wisdom and thoughts of marriage as a means to more important ends I put an ad in the paper which read,

Wanted a Bride,
For a Computer Engineer, 27.
Girl must be rich and beautiful.
Those interested can also contact me at my website www.wantedabride.com

The next few weeks were quite hectic. As I browsed through the many letters I had received I came across one which was quite appealing. It was from a girl named Monica who worked as an intern in the Rashtrapati Bhavan. The letter said that she had excellent oral communication skills, was a cigar smoker and her favourite movie was 'Kill Bill'. After trying to find patterns out of randomness I decided otherwise. By now I had received over a hundred letters including those from the opposite gender.

Finally I struck gold and I mean King Solomon's gold. We were to meet at her mansion which was situated in the most luxurious part of the city. On the fateful day I went to her house completely suited and booted; my decision already enjoying its intercourse with grandeur. At first her mother came to welcome me and I said, "So where is the bride", to which she replied, "I'm the bride". Looking at her imperfect figure and looks I thought to myself, falling in love in not about finding the perfect person, its about learning to see an imperfect person perfectly. But that is falling in love; love is whats left when all the falling in love part inevitably withers away. I was in search of the perfect woman but then again I was willing to make a few exceptions. Though she was the perfect picture of imperfection at least she had a perfect bank balance; something that would complement, if not uplift my resources.

After flashing my credentials, a date was set and I finally tied the knot. Tight! I then took my wife to her new home. Seeing my humble dwellings she looked at me with a puzzled look on her face. Trying to retain my composure I told her about the financial mess I was in and how I would soon be starting my private enterprise with our (her) money.

Knowing that I had just pulled off the scam of the century I began dreaming of my bright future. she then looked at me with a smile on her face and said, "You know, that house where you met me wasn't mine. I was just a maid servant working there".

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer:
Thats something I wrote a long time back, in the past present continuous; during my early engineering days when I was part of the magazine committee. Since we were not getting articles I was forced to write one :-)
However the article goes back even further to my elocution competitive days in school. The article was written by a person named Prof Zade which we found in the newspapers. I then modified the words and content to fit the 5 minute limit we had. I have mentioned about that competition out here.
However in engineering I did not remember the words and the content but just the outline of the ending and so I sat down and added flesh to the skeleton using quotes/jokes that I remembered from the reader's digest. I changed the article yet again before putting up this post.

Who Moved my Phone

I have moved to our new office building and am already feeling nostalgia wistfully take form outta unknown unassuming crevices. I miss the quaint house we called an office [sigh…. sobbing sound effects out here].

Being in my element, it suddenly hit me that amidst the cube farm and the prairie hopping I wasn't receiving a mobile signal at the place I had parked my derriere. Then it hit me again, what if you desperately need to get in touch with me and your life depends on it, or you are craving to talk to me [sigh…. sobbing sound effects out here again], or you want to just get some work done through me being the nice guy that I am, or want to hire some manpower to beat up someone, or want to invite me out for a treat/trek/play/musical concert/movie/free lunch… ooohhh free lunch... nooooo I can't miss that.

So after a bit of playing detective I was apprised about the places in office where I can get a mobile signal. We do get signals close to the window but the voice breaks cause of multipath effects. You also get good signals near the flat screen in the cafeteria. Then someone told me that we get good signal reception in the loo. Invariably when you enter the loo the phone rings cause the person who was trying and trying and trying to get intouch with you finally gets through. Err so basically I take a seat out there and talk to glory and discuss about that free lunch??? And if you do hear some unusual background noise then please don't ask me,"What was that!" [flush sound effect out here].

Fixing Broken Flowers

I've played the messenger boy before and I must say its a nice warm fuzzy feeling, just to be there; in the moment, as it unfolds :-) I have carried messages when mobiles didn't exist, have packed and parceled a house made of ice cream sticks and have roamed the streets of bengaluru in the rain, searching for 12 red roses.

A friend, Goli, decided to start this thing where he would sing songs on ppl b'days and bake them a cake and stuff... would charge them something but wanted to do it just for kicks.. so he got a GIG sometime back... not sure what else to call it :-) anyways he invited some fellow blogger friends to provide moral support in his endeavour.. so four of us jobless ppl went to this particular place ... a café type place on 100 feet road in Indranagar.. this girl's sister was giving her a surprise for her b'day... Goli knew the girl through some common friends and the common friends knew about his b'day singing plans... so we went there and sang and made merry... Goli played the guitar and there were two girls (blogging friends) with us who sing decently... he also baked a cake and stuff and we improvised with the cake decorations... I had a lot of second, third and fourth thoughts before going but it turned out to be a really nice experience... :-) it was fun... like being one of those ppl who deliver flowers just to see the expression on the receiver's face... :-)

Will We Ever Rise

Excerpts from "The Fall", a novel by ALBERT CAMUS, Nobel Prize Winner

"THE FALL"

"In a certain way I am sticking to my subject with all that about friends and connections. You see, I've heard of a man whose friend had been imprisoned and who slept on the floor of his room every night in order not to enjoy a comfort of which his friend had been deprived. Who, cher monsieur, will sleep on the floor for us? Whether I am capable of it myself? Look, I'd like to be and I shall be. Yes, we shall all be capable of it one day, and that will be salvation. But it's not easy, for friendship is absent-minded or at least unavailing. It is incapable of achieving what it wants. Maybe, after all, it doesn't want it enough? Maybe we don't love life enough? Have you noticed that death alone awakens our feelings? How we love the friends who have just left us? How we admire those of our teachers who have ceased to speak, their mouths filled with earth! Then the expression of admiration springs forth naturally, that admiration they were perhaps expecting from us all their lives. But do you know why we are always more just and more generous toward the dead? The reason is simple. With them there is no obligation. They leave us free and we can take our time, fit the testimonial in between a cocktail party and a nice little mistress, in our spare time, in short. If they forced us to anything, it would be to remembering, and we have a short memory. No, it is the recently dead we love among our friends, the painful dead, our emotion, ourselves after all!" pp 32-33

“The day I was alerted I became lucid; I received all the wounds at the same time and lost my strength all at once. The whole universe then began to laugh at me. That is what no man (except those who are not really alive--in other words, wise men) can endure. Spitefulness is the only possible ostentation. People haste to judge in order not to be judged themselves. What do you expect? The idea that comes most naturally to man, as if from his very nature, is the idea of his innocence.” pp. 80-81

"Some people's problems is to protect themselves from men or at least to come to terms with them." p. 27

"It was not a matter, mind you, of the certainty I had of being more intelligent than everyone else. Besides, such certainty is of no consequence because so many imbeciles share it." p. 29

"Life became less easy for me: when the body is sad the heart languishes. It seemed to me that I was half unlearning what I had never learned and yet knew so well--how to live." pp. 42-43

"You know what charm is: a way of getting the answer yes without having asked any clear question." pp. 56-57

“Each of us insists on being innocent at all cost, even if he has to accuse the whole human race and heaven itself.” p. 81

“What we call basic truths are simply the ones we discover after all the others.” p. 84

“One plays at being immortal and after a few weeks one doesn’t even know whether or not one can hang on till the next day.” p. 105

“Yes, one can wage war in this world, ape love, torture one’s fellow man, or merely say evil of one’s neighbor while knitting. But, in certain cases, carrying on, merely continuing, is superhuman.” p. 114

“Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man that tells the truth.” pp. 119-120

“But when you don’t like your own life, when you know that you must change lives, you don’t have any choice, do you?” p. 144

Children of Men

It was Sunday and I found myself in a grocery store, a short distance from church. As usual, I greeted this man with the warmest of greetings. Like me, he and his two young kids follow the Sunday ritual; church then the grocery store. I do not have a name to his face but we always exchange a few words and a warm greeting.

Amongst the bustle of people in the store, two young girls entered; the elder being around 6 and the smaller one, around 2 years. As they entered the little one bumped into someone and fell to the ground having lost her balance. People around her looked into each others eyes exchanging glances; searching for signs of claimant to the post of guardian of the young one. But as we were doing so, the elder sister picked the young one up and told her, "It will be ok". The two of them went about their business, as people started to smile and ruffle the little one's top. I asked the elder sister if they were ok and she replied in the affirmative, whimpers still emanating from the little one; the elder sister trying all that she could to cajole her younger sister. And then they left the store.

I then saw a lot of children at this other place; smiles on their faces, dark questions lurking in the twilight; like dormant volcanos on a mid summers dawn, waiting to erupt, waiting to be heard.

While on the road I came across some more little children at the back of a car. So I decided to wave to them and they returned the gesture through beaming faces; the smiles getting bigger with every subsequent gesture.

And then I got to where I was heading ? Well... err not yet.

An Ode to Sorpotel

AN ODE TO SORPOTEL

For the hotch potch known as Haggis
Let the Scotsman yearn or yell
For the taste of Yorkshire pudding
Let the English family dwell.
For the famed Tandoori Chicken
That Punjabi's praise like hell
But for us who hail from Goa
There's nothing like SORPOTEL!

From the big wigs in Colaba
To the small fry in Cavel
From the growing tribes in Bandra
To the remnants in Parel
From the lovely girls in Glaxo
To the boys in Burma Shell
There's no Goan whose mouth won't water
When you talk of SORPOTEL!

And Oh! for Christmas dinner
Don't you think it would be swell
If by some freak of fortune
Or by some magic spell
We could, as they have in Goa
A bottle of the cajel
And toddy leavened sannas
To go with SORPOTEL!

--- anonymous

Letters from Mt Everest

Gist: My cousin climbed till Everest Base Camp a couple of days back. I wanna climb Everest someday. Go till the top, sit there and take photographs :-)

What I intend to capture here is the excitement, fear and thrill that one feels when climbing a majestic mountain. Posted below are her emails, verbatim. She emailed from various places while on the trek.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject: Namaste
Date: Sat, 17 Feb 2007 20:21:42 +1100

Hello from Kathmandu!

Arrived here this morning (Nepal time) and am settling in to the familiar sights and smells of this region. On the way here, from the plane, we saw Everest poking through the cloudline - dwarfing peaks around it, with a plume of ice being blown from it's summit. Amazing.

The weather in Kathmandu is fine at present - a balmy 16C and sunny - not as chilly as expected. Spent last night in Bangkok. The new Suvarnabhumi airport wasn't as chaotic as the media reports lead you to believe. It looks kinda spaceage from the outside, particularly at night with all the lights on.

Have been eating my way through some culinary delights in the last 24 hours - will likely go vegetarian from here on in, just to be on the safe side and minimise a bout of the trots:).

Tomorrow there is a tour of Kathmandu on the schedule and then the trekking adventure begins on Monday with the flight into Lukla! Can't wait!

Am enjoying every minute and everything is going very smoothly.
Will sign off for now.
Take care,
Charmaine.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: Hello from Namche!
Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2007 15:36:12 +1100

Hi All,
Have made it to Namche Bazar. We were lucky to make the flight from Kathmandu to Lukla on Monday. No planes had been flying for the previous 6 days due to ice on the runway. The flight into Lukla appeared death-defying, as we decended onto an obscure airstrip nestled among monster mountains. When we landed we realised why there had been a cancellation of flights in the previous 6 days - snow was everywhere. The trek from Lukla to Padking took about 3 hours and yesterday's trek from Pandking to Namche, ascending 800m to 3400m in snow took 8 hours (abit more than the usual 5hours). Was pooped, tho slept well and am ready for some sightseeing in Namche today. Fortunately the weather has been clearing now - with the sun shining for the past three days - so the snow is melting, making trekking abit more easier. A week ago the route to Everest Base Camp and Gokyo Ri was impassable due to the weather. While things a looking alot better now weather-wise - the completion of this trek will rely on the weather staying good from here on in.

Anyways - that's about it for now.
Take care!
Charmaine.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: Back from Base!
Date: Sat, 03 Mar 2007 20:14:59 +1100

Hi Guys!
Well, despite the uncharacteristic weather (i.e. snow, and lots of it) - the Gods have been shining and permitted a window of opportunity to allow us to reach Kalapathar (5545m) and Everest Base Camp a few days ago. The trek to Gokyo Ri is still unpassable, so here i am, back in Namche Bazar and ready for my first shower in Kathmandu in 2 days time :) I've climbed, trekked and walked through a snow blizzard - all in the name of a holiday (some one please talked some sense into me the next time i take leave). The weather has generally been below freezing and the trekking path icy, slippery and dangerous (are we having fun yet?!).
Nevertheless, it's been a big challenge and I'm on the home stretch as the weather begins to clear and i head back to Kathmandu in two more days time (i can hear that hot water running now:).
Anyways, hope all is well. Talk soon.
Charmaine.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Subject: Heading Home
Date: Fri, 09 Mar 2007 16:17:20 +1100

Dear All,

Well, am back in Kathmandu, where i have been shopping, eating, sleeping and roaming for the past two and a half days. The trek from Namche to Lukla was very different without everything blanketed with snow - and was alot faster.

The flight out of Lukla to Kathmandu eventually arrived once the sky cleared enough for the twin otter to land. As for that first shower in 2 weeks in Kathmandu....what can i say...you probably heard me singing!

The holiday is coming to an end as i am heading to the airport in 30 minutes to begin my homeward journey. (Am happy to report that all my fingers and toes are coming too:)

It's been quite a 'holiday'. Not sure i'd recommend the experience, as over the past 2.5 weeks there have been a number of times i've been completely out of my comfort zone. On reflection now though, it's something i am really glad i have done.

Anyways, i'd better sign off for now!
Take care,
Charmaine।

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blank Noise Project

Blank Noise Project is a blog for awareness about eve teasing in some of the major Indian cities and whats being done... I have added some stories below.

Here is a wish list of what many want to be able to do… One of them read...
[snip]
I want to be able to walk down the street naked. I want everyone else to be naked too. Stark naked. There will be no room for an issue.
- anonymous
[snip]
Reading it the first thought that came to my mind was,"I’m sure a guy wrote this… :-)". Ok I'm sure there were nobler intentions being thought but that one amused me. After the giggles settled down I thought about the person who felt that this is the only option. I was trying to think of why someone would even consider that everyone should move around naked and couldn’t come up with a reasonable thought flow… and then I just went yikes!!!! which only means that there needs to be a lot more awareness…

Whats the project all about ?
[snip]
share. talk. inspire. understand. tell. speak. hear. be heard. narrate. voice. throw open.

When did you flip a situation so you could resist, when did you give back as hard as you got? When and how did you choose to confront? When did you become an Action Hero?

Being a 'HERO' is relative . We are interested in knowing how you challenged yourself or didn't feel victimised?

This is an attempt to understand how different women ( across age groups/ cultures/ communities) have dealt with street sexual harassment in their everyday lives. Male bloggers are encouraged to share stories of women in their lives and how they have dealt with street sexual harassment.
[snip]

So I thought to myself why not. I'll tell you two stories from the few that I have.

Story 1: Walk the Night
This happened during my early engineering days, when I used to stay in a place with a lot of relatives around. We own this huge area with houses all around and a squarish ground in the centre. I have played on that ground since my childhood and at night we would sometimes have bonfires late into the night. Basically what I want to convey is that my sense of security was within that entire enclosure and not just within my home.

My mom would sometimes go for her walks even if it was late in the evening. Along the border of this enclosure there was some construction work going on and some workers were making merry and in high spirits. One of them threw a bottle from the top and it landed about 20-30 meters away from him, with the intention to startle or target my mother. My mother came home and told me about what had taken place; my dad was not at home at that moment. I then decided to confront them armed in a short pant, a baniyan, rubber chappals; with a baseball bat in hand. We climbed up to the second floor where the workers were and finally I stood face to face with them; about 7-8 lean, well-built men. The reality of the situation then hit us, with my mother standing behind me, and we froze. They didn't have weapons but there were rods/bricks lying around which could serve the purpose. They could have easily over powered us if the need arose and then through the fear in my throat, words started to flow, trying to make them realize their wrong doing and bring some sense to their actions. They listened while I spoke, the baseball bat ready for any eventuality.

But then things went out of hand. A third person who was living in that building came to the terrace and tried to get involved, having a previous history of friction with those workers. 'SPLAT!!!!' he slapped one of them across the face. Realizing that the situation was now out of hand I took my mom home and then people, relatives started to turn up from everywhere. In the minutes that followed three groups were formed; the other group on our side against those drunken workers and their friends. People phoned people and the crowd started to increase and after a bit of shouting and yelling, people decided to beat up a few people. We were arguing about the bottle, the workers were arguing about the 'SLAP' and the third party was also arguing for something. In the heat of the moment, things happened :-) as you didn't know some of the people who were on your side. Finally the contractor in charge of those workers arrived and we spoke to him and things were settled, our sense of security still stretched to the limits of that entire enclosure and not just our homes.

Story 2: Flash Light
I was out for a late night movie with friends at Symphony Theatre in Bangalore; three guys, including me and a girl. We were coming out of the movie and crossing the road heading towards our vehicle; myself and the girl behind the others. A car that was parked was heading home and he slowly moved towards the road as we passed in front of him. Then out of the blue that guy in the car increased the intensity of his headlights as the girl passed in front of him. I didn't realize what was happening... in fact I only thought about it when I saw her angrily stare at the guy in the car and the smirk he had on his face... she was wearing an ankle length skirt, made of cotton material. It took me sometime to figure out what had happened but by then we had already moved ahead. The incident took just 2-3 seconds, the others never noticed anything and the girl also chose not to mention anything to us.

Conversations

Why do people blog or write Novels.

Well they do it because their are interested in conversations, one-on-one conversations to be more precise. But the issue with this approach is that it cannot scale. It is almost impossible to 'push' words onto others when they really don't want it at that particular moment in time, as they have other more important things to attend to. And if you 'ask the dust', they will tell us the same. And even if they have the time, they may not be ready. The only way for this desire to scale would be to put your words down somewhere and allow others to 'pull' them whenever they want, as per their convenience; tucked in a bed at night, on a solitary rock at the end of the beach, while travelling. And when they choose to do so, then the one-on-one conversations begin; between friends, between strangers, where the ambience is imaginary. The very first conversation, beginning, the moment the words start to metamorphize out of thin air; the conversation with oneself, between friends, between strangers.

Ask the Dust

"Dust thou art, and to dust thou shall return."

Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent; and I found myself in church where they put ash on my forehead, humming the words above; to remind me of who I am. The ashes are prepared by burning palm leaves from the previous year's Palm Sunday celebrations.

So our place in the sun is no more than a handful of dust, as we go on like clockwork orange; justifying our heartbeats, writing down our absurd, existential and rational fictions; oblivious of the many other fictions taking shape, the ashes taking form. And in that quest we sometimes trample upon dust, weary of the same fate; all in search of our ephemeral eternal ecstasies.

Reema once mentioned that we are 'Alone, Not Lonely', to which I added that you have to learn to depend on yourself for everything, and everything includes happiness too. I don't mean that you should not have family or friends or whatever to support you whenever you feel the need for it. But you should learn to depend on yourself for everything. To fight, to pick you up, to bring a smile on your face. You need to do this so that you allow them to get the time and energy to find that happiness within themselves too. In the pursuit of searching within yourself for happiness you unleash sparks of creativity within you. If you depend too much on others then you stifle the creativity within them.

And creativity is a source of eternal ecstasy????? I guess we have to 'Ask the Dust'.

The Business Card

I came across this guy on the web who draws cartoons at the back of business cards and is actually doing pretty good business, putting his creative instincts to use.

Metup with a friend Neeti yesterday, a lawyer by profession; currently practicing Intellectual Property Law; who was in the city for the ITechLaw Conference. She was telling me all about her networking activities and her business card handout experiences at the IP conference as I sat there in silent observation. Having discussed our views on patents and the outsourcing of the soul on previous occasions; she beamingly handed me her business card, which I chose to make a little more personalised, intoxicated under the influence of some creative ideas by Hugh Macleod. Nope I don't drink and draw :-)

Outsourcing the Soul

I got a mail from a friend asking me to use my literary skills or the lack of it to edit a mail that he wanted to send out to friends, in the hope that they would forward it to their friends and so on and so forth. I edited the article which was etched in the third dimension out here.

The thoughts that ran through my head while writing were:
1) The choice of media is important. Instead of sending the content out in a mail it would be more appropriate to put it on a blog and send the link to the blog out, so that there would be just one place for people to comment on it.
2) The other important thing was to add a tad bit of humor to the article, without which it becomes tough for unknown people to take an interest in it. Humor is important in life; its a means to more important ends, but not an end in itself. Humor is like food, water, blood and oxygen for a body, but that is not the point in life. But without it there is no life.
3) What we were trying to do is sell our article to the common populace. They are the customers, they have to buy in and they have a choice whether to do so or not. Then again the customer is not God, the customer is a human being and the only way to reach out is to write from your soul; the soul cannot be outsourced. I will only add the humor part and some tweaks here and there for better reading. The underlying content/message had to come from him.

PS: He hasn't paid me anything for the editing yet. need to get a treat from him :-)

What you find below are some excerpts from articles from http://www.gapingvoid.com/

Start a blog:
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Blogs are funny things. Say something smart, and people pay attention. Say something dumb, and youʼre ignored. We big media folk just can't seem to get our heads around that concept, for some reason. Regular blogging can help train you to discern between smart and dumb. It makes it easier to extend this to the rest of one's business.

Write from the heart:
---------------------
There is no silver bullet. There is only the love God gave you. As a professional writer, I am interested in how conversation scales. How communication scales, x to the power of n etc etc. Ideally, if you're in the communication business, you want to say the same thing, the same way to an audience of millions that you would to an audience of one. Imagine the power you'd have if you could pull it off. But sadly, it doesn't work that way. You can't love a crowd the same way you can love a person. And a crowd can't love you the way a single person can love you. Intimacy doesn't scale. Not really. Intimacy is a one-on-one phenomenon. It's not a big deal. Whether you're writing to an audience of one, five, a thousand, a million, ten million, thereʼs really only one way to really connect. One way that actually works: Write from the heart.

Free Willy

"Oh my God!!!!!!!!" And then my sister takes my three month old nephew to the doctors, the exclamations still lingering on. The doctor takes a look, then looks at my sister and says, "You shouldn't massage him that hard." The nurse echoes the doctors words trying to appear professional, her stifled laughter tickled by the thoughts of the impending action at hand. "But I don't massage him that hard", argued my sister trying to apply logic to speculation. They all look down as a silence lulls the room, only to be desecrated by the next logical utterance, "Ok, so what do we do now". The question floated in mid air and was finally brought down with a grin from the nurse, finding it too hard to contain. The verdict resonated with amusement, "We have to tape it up".

It seems that he had a minor cut near his willy and there was a slight oozing of blood from the area. Speculation fell on my nephews overgrown finger nails, to which he cooed in his own defence; only to be overruled. The last I heard was that there was yet another sequel to the 'Free Willy' series.

Sliding Windows

The gallery is filled to capacity and you finally find your seat, amongst the buzz of eager homo sapiens. Tickets are checked, you recline to a comfortable position and then the show begins, oblivious to the many eyes that fail to appreciate the artistic composition of a million framed pictures on display. The spectacle of nature; the 'Sliding Windows'.

Chips Dip Recipe

Ingredients:
Curds 400 gms, one hand full Kothmir, 2 green Chillies (big), 1/2 pod garlic, 5 tsp sugar, salt.

Procedure:
Grind Garlic, Kothmir, Chillie. Not very fine. Add the ground contents to the curds beaten up with 5 tsp sugar and salt.

Serve with chips. The chips are partially dipped into the concoction; one by one; and relished :-)

The Beach

I headed down to Trivandrum, the capital of Kerala, with the intention of going to the Kanyakumari and enjoying some quality time on 'The Rock'. I knew zilch about the Kovalam beach in Trivandrum. After a bit of siteseeing with Bala at Veli beach we headed off to his ancestral home which is on a hill top and overlooks the top of a million coconut trees which then opens up into the sea. Kovalam beach is just 3kms from his place. Kovalam has three big adjacent crescent beaches. The southernmost, known as the Lighthouse Beach, is the most popular of the three. It is ranked amongst the top beaches in the world and is extremely gorgeous. The beach is very flat and has a gentle slope into the sea.

Alice: Cultural Learnings of a Full Marathon for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Never Never Land

map loading...

beep Beep BEep BEEp BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP!!.... well there you go the 'R' rating. Errr.... well actually the phone alarm woke me up from my dream. A dream where a lot of confusing things were happening and you are glad that you finally wake up. But as Natalie Goldberg says, when you continue to stop yourself from going all the way in your subconscious and coming to a deep resolution, its not a dream you wake up from, but you carry the nightmare out into the streets.

And those streets happened to be the streets of Mumbai, where like the many others you decide to run the full marathon, all 42.195 kms of it. You decide to click snaps along the way, since this could be your only attempt at a photo finish :-) A GPS logger dangles from your side which you can use to geo-tag photos later on. The route is lined with people cheering you on; with pompoms and balloons and music and all sorts of colorful things. TV crews and sponsors names are everywhere. Many other corporates use it as a platform to advertise their brand and the thought of 'guerilla marketing' brings a smile to your face.

Birds rise from their feeding ritual along the beach, as the mist blends with the buildings at the far end across the sea. Families, localities, chawls came out in numbers to support us, while some just came out to observe. Initially the children were a bit shy but then they lined the roads for that ephemeral high five, only to be enforced with a culture later on, stifling the right to develop their own.

Initially you run alone, then you join someone along the way and move together for some time and then move on. You meet Dr Roy who is 74 years and who maintains a steady pace. Some complain about cramps and impending catches but the water stations at regular intervals provide electral, ice packs and spray to relieve you. A nun was also distributing sweets to the runners. The volunteers at the stations remained till the end, long after the front runners had past their stations. And if stations were not in sight then you help each other out. You do so willingly and without a second thought, which makes you wonder what stops you at other times. Maybe its cause you are running the same route at this moment, oblivious or maybe just skeptical of its authenticity at other times.

The full marathon started an hour after the half marathon, and it should have been the other way around as it started to get too hot for mere mortal runners like me. There was one girl who was using an umbrella towards the end. The traffic at some places took over the roads and we had to walk along the footpaths. The cheering had reduced but still a few people stood their ground to cheer us on. I forgot to drench my body with petroleum jelly and that mistake started to manifest itself with blisters and abrasions due to friction with my clothes. Music soothes all uncalled for manifestations; jazz, latin, arab-andalusian, heavy metal, old hindi songs, and instrumentals; without prejudice, just doing their job.

I met a fellow Bangalorean who was attempting his first marathon, with about 5 kms to go. He was 43 and used my cell to ward off his wife's worries since he was taking more time than expected. That and his wife didn't want him to go all the way to Mumbai to run a full marathon. He told me that he just liked running and had completed the half marathon (21 kms) in bangalore in 1 hr 50 mins. He complained about the heat and wondered whether it was worth it to torture ourselves in the heat and whether it really mattered since we were walking anyway. Both of us fell silent and we walked a little further, trying to find reason to our madness. I then broke the silence and asked him if this was his first marathon to which he smiled and replied that it would indeed make a big difference if he completed it.

There were people of all ages and backgrounds running the marathon. Some were running for a cause; some for charity, some for farmers, some for peace, some for fun, some for life, some for a clean and green mumbai, some for freedom, some for health, some for the free drinks along the way, and some for Shilpa Shetty to stop racism against her from some UK folks on the 'Big Brother' reality show. But then again is anyone running to stop racism between the different parts of India, the north against the south, the south against the south, the north against the north, the east against the east and the west against the west. When things get toooo confusing you decide to run for yourself, not for anyone or anything but for yourself; since you know that everything is related in all its intricacies and will eventually be overwhelmed by the domino effect. So you run for yourself, so that you may go all the way and come to a deep resolution; and when you wake up from your dream, you only hope that you no longer carry the nightmare out into the streets.

Do it yourself links:
Google Maps APIs
Map in your blog tutorial
How to geo tag an image
Blogger for Dummies
Google Map Mania blog
EXIF image format

Walk the Line

Panipuri. Yeah good stuff, but with a little improvisation it tastes even better. Ever heard about Boozepuri. Well you take the regular Puri and put in the regular stuffings and then you take some fruit punch. The stuff in which alcohol is mixed and use it as Pani. Then you take that concoction and wallop it down like a regular Panipuri :-)

After a Tequila and a Martini I called it a day. Whats happens when you forget to call it a day. Well people start to poke you and tell you that you're drunk. And then naturally as you know that you're not drunk you tell everyone, "I'm not drunk. But when I get drunk I'll tell you." However when you start to repeat that sentence about 20-30 times to each and every person then naturally people start to poke you even further. Then you go and walk the line to prove to them you know whats happening. And then after that you stand on a chair and decide to gulp down one more Tequila and then you climb a table to declare to family and friends that now you are finally drunk and will go to bed.

Oh yeah I shot the table top declaration on camera. Cheers :-)

A Clockwork Chocolate

No chocolate cake was coming back with me this time cause my mom was elsewhere… but then I was told that going home and not getting cake could be bad for employee morale… so I thought of baking a cake and getting it to bangalore… I mean I have the recipe, how tough could it be right… I might as well give it a try… however I was then told that baking a cake myself and bringing it back here could be bad for employee morale….. so I to decided take my sister Sonali's help. I knew that a lot of sweat and hardwork will go into it and maybe some into the batter too. I told my Mom about employee morale and my nobel cause to keep it that way, and then i waited to see what she had to say.

Mumzee: 420 gms maida, 500 gms butter....
Moi: What ?
Mumzee: 500 gms eggs.
Moi: Wait!!
Mumzee: What.
Moi: I already have the recipe. I have it up on my blog. All I need is your blessing.
(After a long pause)
Mumzee: Ok you need the recipe. The one that you have is outdated. I made some improvements. If that was yummie then this is yummieeeee.
(At this point the artist formerly known as Mumzee takes on the role of Mamamia.. in other words she starts to speak with this hush hush tone)
Moi: So the one on the web is not the ONE.
Mamamia: Nope. That one was for others. This one is the family secret.
Moi: The family secret. Like Chocolate Cake Recipe Version 2.0
Mamamia: Yes. The family secret. Version 2.0. And remember the batter has to fall like a blob. And if it doesn't fall properly then you have to add stuff 'Andaaz Se'.
Moi: So 'Aandaz Se' is included in Version 2.0
Mamamia: 'Aandaz Se' was included in Version 1.0 too.

Finally with a little help from my sister I managed to make the batter fall like a blob. However i didn't quite understand the 'Aandaz Se' too well and it came out a tad bit hard :-) But that did not do any harm to employee morale. Good enough for starters though. The next time I'll put Beethoven's 9th symphony in the background. Yeah that should do it :-) And oh yeah I forgot to put 2 tsp Vanilla essence.

Six Strings

Got my first six strings :-) Was thinking about learning the guitar for quite some time. Nikhil and Sonu were in Calcutta where Nikhil was picking up a twelve string for himself. He plays the guitar, synthiszer and the violin. Sonali said that he and his friend spent 3+ hours in the shop trying out various guitars to check the sound.

One of my middle names is Santan. You put an 'A' at the end and it becomes Santana. Well it is also an alphabet away from Satan and then Santa too :-) I guess I'll just have to learn how to play those chords. However I have made music before but by writing a device driver to control a PWM, which stands for Pulse Width Modulator. PWM is also used in audio amplifiers to generate output signals for cellphone speakers to high-power stereo systems. It is used to generate Sine Waves by configuring it to oscillate at a particular frequency. So basically you search on the web for the corresponding frequencies for the various musical chords i.e. A, B, C etc for the various octaves. And then you search on the web for songs in terms of musical chords. And then you feed those chords which are parsed by a program which oscillates the PWM at a particular frequency for a particular duration of time. And thats it.... music :-) Well that's how polyphonic ringtones work.

Krupya Hold Kijiye Aap Kaatar Mein Hai

We have a fancy dress ever year in the Catholic Club in Nagpur. There are two bachelors who for the last few years have sportingly been the butt of jokes about being single. Everyone keeps on poking them about being single and asks them when they are getting married. So for one of the fancy dresses they came together dressed in wedding suits with a red ribbon tied around both of them, with the caption, "Special Offer: Ek ke saath ek free". Unfortunately there were no takers.

Then last year Brian came dressed as an Indian bridegroom who had now turned to technology for help. The internet, wedding portals, cellular technology, mobile phones etc to bridge the gap. He came with his face covered with flowers desperately trying to find Misses Right via the mobile phone. SMSes didn't seem to work.
SMS: Several Missed Shaadis
But there was hope with MMS which worked over GPRS.
MMS: Many More Shortlistings
GPRS: God Please Realise I'm Serious
However it seemed that he was using the wrong network.

Finally this year Brian turned to the Government Cellular Providers and has got engaged to a Mumbai girl.
This time his caption for the fancy dress read.
BSNL: Brian Says No Liaisons
MTNL: Mumbaikar Takes Nagpur Lad
And if you call him now you will hear the following message, "Mera Number Ab Vyast Hai".

Cold Mountain

Running in winter does take a lot, especially when you are officially on vacation. The thought of getting out of a cozy bed when the temperature outside is pretty low is a bit unnerving. But you manage to convince yourself and in the bargain you see the newspapers boys collecting their lots of papers on the way. And then you see the milk booths being unloaded with their quota for the morning. The dogs look at you and you exchange perceptions of life. An old man sits on the very same spot, along your path, and over time you condition yourself to exchange a 'Good morning' with a face that does not have a name.

Before I came to Bangalore I used to run about 6-7 kms and go to this place called 'Seminary Hills'. Its about 3+ kms from my home. The tree density in this place is quite high and your path has a lot of flora on either side. The upward gradient is not too much and then you tread along a path cut through thick foliage and finally descend down a flight of stairs and find yourself in a nice and peaceful place. Serene by the nature that engulfs it you find a shrine of 'Mother Mary' there, which is visited by people of all faiths; Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs and Christians; but at other hours. The solitude of that small hill, that cold mountain, restores a bit of your sanity and then you trot back home to begin your day.

Joyeux Noel

'Without an enemy, there can be no war'

Well thats the tagline of the movie named 'Joyeux Noel', based on true events that occured during World War 1, 1914. Its draws a thin line between comedy and drama as the Germans, the French and the Scots declare a ceasefire on Christmas Eve and fraternize at various places along the frontlines. They decide to bury the dead, play football, sing songs, and exchange chocolate. Historical facts can be found here.

Christmas Eve. I was at home with my dad enjoying the warmth from a bonfire. No decorations were up as we were tired from our bird watching hike in the morning, then dada went on to create a high jump thinghy for the children in the neighborhood. We kept on postponing the inevitable and then decided to finally do it after the bonfire. Next day we woke up, went for mass and came home and realised that we had still not put up the decorations. Not even the christmas tree. We then got into superheroes mode and put up things in 20 minutes flat :-) In all that hurry (and superhero mode) there had to be some casualties. And so a plug that supplied power to the light series was trampled upon and it crumbled to pieces. But the lights still came on...

Birds of the same feather

The morning was cold and beckoned us back to bed but the birds were out there somewhere, waiting to be watched as they performed their morning rituals. I headed out with my dad and his friend Anup to a lake on the outskirts of Nagpur. My dad has this bird book which he carries along on bird watching hikes. We spotted a lot of birds basking in the morning hues of the sun.

Amongst them was a bird which ornithologically goes by the name 'small green bee-eater' and psychologically goes by the name 'Yeda Popat'. Why you ask. Well there is a story behind it. It seems that if you try to hit the bird with a stone or try to shuu it away it will fly from its position and then hover above for some time. And then it will come and perch itself on the very same spot. However the thought never crossed our mind to try out that hypothesis. We were just watching. And if we did shoot them then it was with a camera.

High on Light - A Dark Documentary

Reema, who is a budding journalist called me up a couple of days back, asking if I could participate in a discussion which was part of a documentary she and a few colleagues were making. The theme of the documentary was 'High on Life' and you can get her side of the story out here. The others who were to take part in the discussion were Madhuri (21), Sadhana (21), Karthik (23), Avinash (27) and moi (27). The only person who I knew from amongst the participants and the others in the room was Reema.

I met Reema outside and as we were walking up the stairs we realised that the lights were out. We entered the room which was dimly lit by ambient light. In the dark I was introduced to the other participants and budding journalists. Words were exchanged in the dark, as we waited for the lights; waiting for the camera and sound equipment to be fueled by the electrons and protons that lay unexcited at the moment. Words, familiar words; words that formed ephemeral patterns that could trace their genesis in our minds. Words that had been subjected to the filters that we have built over time. For the documentary we were to talk about youth issues; what gets us high on life, youth and spirituality, peer pressure, how the ambience affects our reactions at that moment, effects of wealth on behaviour and other such issues.

In the darkness time ticked, as we waited; waited to discuss issues of youth; the conversation casually drifting to whatever it could hold on to. First impressions were exchanged in the dark; impressions of people who you know nothing about, neither their looks nor their background; all you can do is base your impressions on their thoughts; impressions that are left to the subconscious whether to consider them or not. And then finally the lights came on. Lights! Camera! Reaction! And words were exchanged in the light, fueled by excited electrons and protons. Words, familiar words; words that formed ephemeral patterns that could trace their genesis in our minds. Words that had been subjected to the filters that we have built over time; filters that seem to be influenced by light and excited electrons and protons. And you notice the difference, however subtle it may be; the difference in the dark and in light. You cannot escape, we cannot escape, but are we aware of it. Ironically it was darkness that threw light on the subject. Youth: High on Life.

Novel Sexual Overtones

It was a time when I was down with delirium during my Novel Writing Marathon days; days of the recent past; days when the finish line was in sight. I had already endured the stages of 'Denial', 'Anger', 'Bargaining' and 'Depression' and had finally reached a stage whose magnified characteristics could be characterised as 'Delirium'. And then around that time I happened to meet 'M'.

M____ : So what are you writing about ?
Alistair : Err... (and then to cut a long story short, I began the long story)...
M ____ : Is your Novel about sex ?
Alistair : Nope.
M ____ : Is your Novel about God ?
Alistair : Nope.

After a short pause. Actually there was no pause cause 'M' knew what he was gonna say :-)

M ____ : Then how is it gonna sell !! I mean, I'm also thinking of writing a Novel. And my Novel is gonna be about God AND about sex. Infact its gonna be about God having sex. Now that will sell !!!!

At that very moment lightening clasped the violet sky above our heads, as the sound of our blasphemies were overcome by thunder, that was dutifully following the laws of physics.

I told 'B' about that incident when we met over the weekend, to which he gave me the 'Been There, Done That' look. It turned out that during our Engineering days he had written a 150 page novel on sex and a Goddess, which turned out to be a Hollywood movie actress. 'B' was a hosteller and during our first year of Engineering he was asked to write a 100 page novel with a sex scene on each page. All this in the name of ragging. When he returned from his holidays, the pages were increased to 150 as he had not even started. He then started with the journey to Hollywood. 5 pages waiting at the bus station. 20 pages travelling by bus. And a sexual scene; if not atleast an overtone on each and every page. He even commented that the seniors found the novel pretty amusing and told him that he was a budding novelist. So if he ever decides to quit his regular day job he can very well take a shot at writing.