Bhuvanesh unplugged...

Do's and Dont's after a long absence from blogging - Ready Reckoner

2007-08-11T21:45:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well. I never imagined matters would come to a head like this. But, as I had mentioned in my profile, my occupation is procrastination. This blog has become a truism of sorts for that. And I decided, to hell with that truism. So, for the rest of you out there (if anyone in this planet still reading this blog) this post is to give an idea to people who are also thinking their asses off. Like me. "What the hell am I gonna ramble about if I am posting after nearly four friggin' months?"

1.

"I'm back.
Regular programming will continue soon."

If you are gonna use these kinda phrases on a blog, then the chances are whoever is reading that is going to close the damned browser and shut down his/her computer. These phrases are blacklisted, in case you did not happen to know it.

2. Do not try to get an attention grabbing post. It is possible that after a long layoff most people would have forgotten you. Also, it is difficult to pull it off as easily as you would have done when you used to earlier.

3. Another reason why an attention grabbing post is to be avoided after a long layoff is that most of the previous readers would have duly forgotten about the existence of the blog itself. (Like in my case here) So, the effort goes half wasted when you know the post is not read by most of the viewers who would have potentially read it if it had been published earlier. Or later when you know you have raised readership with smartly written posts.

4. Visit other blogs (particularly those, whose owners were commenting on yours quite regularly) and comment something germane on their latest posts, at least to show that you are indeed back.

5. When someone else comments to a crappy ready reckoner like this, make sure you thank them separately as soon as possible both here and at their blog. For, this post has to get it's comeuppance.

6. When you think you have nothing else to blabber about, shut the fuck up and click the "PUBLISH POST" button. This does not even require a place in the drafts. In case, you decide to save this into a draft, your own operating system might crash.

Our national language...

2007-04-22T16:50:00.000-07:00

Alright. I agree, it's been a long time since I promised that I would post soon. It has also been a long time since I got 'settled' (Have I?) into a new country, new environment etc. etc. etc. I decided not to bitch about anything in my blog. But, I could not resist posting about this. Every time I sign in to blogger to post about something 'edible', this thing would occupy my mental space and I would immediately sign out. But, this time, I decided to get this off my system. Oh yes, I am coming to the point now.

This is about so many of the Desi students here. Whenever I meet anyone, they start off with a "Kya bhai? tumko kuch kuch hota hai blah blah..." I then slowly tell them I cannot understand hindi for nuts. He immediately looks at me as if I just abused his parentage. He is not alone. That is the reaction all of them have given me. I felt he would not mind so much if I had really abused his parents. One of them went so far as to exclaim "What? Hindi is our national language dude! And you say that you do not know that so casually?" During these times, especially when I feel I need to give someone back something, my brain gets overheated and comes up with really dumb wisecracks. I quipped back "Big deal. Just because the tiger is our national animal, do you people let a tiger grow up in your home?" But, being the good guy he is, he just laughed it off and went off.

But, I do not understand the deal most of the people make about my knowledge of hindi. It is even more worse, when I say I have not seen DDLJ or KKHH or refined classics like Satya or Company. They all look at me as if I just raped a guy. (Do not ask me how.. ;) That was what I could read into their bewildered expressions) So, wherever I go, I am the silent guy. Everywhere people have named me the silent guy because I stay quiet whenever a group of guys are discussing about something. What else would I do if they are all conversing in Hindi? Order all of them to speak in tamil or english or telugu? I think they all forget that I am a qualified Hindi Pandit. :)

As my uncle says, every hindrance is an opportunity. So, I have decided to take up the grand idea of converting my lack of hindi knowledge in to an opportunity to learn hindi. All my roomies can speak pure, chaste hindi. Or so it seems to me. I am picking up basic words and expressions. Of course, I have now become well-trained in uttering swear words, and all my roomies fall over each other to listen to me utter it. They say it is funny, when I utter it. But since this is a family blog, (whatever that means) we will not post any of the swear words here. So, rest assured... Now I am waiting to see when I can understand all the words in a sentence without any help from someone... I guess, it is going to be a long wait....

I am just kidding...

2007-02-20T08:00:00.000-08:00

I was at a supermarket a recent while ago. I saw the usual parents who had brought their toddlers along with them. My attention was directed towards two cute little guys. They must have been a year old, barely able to walk, swinging to and fro and walking towards each other. Their parents were totally unaware of these two fellas acquainting with themselves, while they were shopping all to themselves. I was just a mute spectator to the sight - two cute little kids, sort of shaking hands and messing each other's hair. No wonder that we all adore little kids and their antics. With nothing to do, I was wondering what those two could have been discussing about and how different it might be if two adults were to introduce themselves instead of these two kids. Especially if these kids are full of angst.

Kid1 : Hey dude, you are looking cool.

Kid2 : So do you. But what is that you are wearing on your wrists and arms?

Kid1 : Don't you even get me started on that man. I am a guy and my mom insists on making me wear these bangles. I have been crying all day to have her remove this and she has got no freakin clue about what I am pissed off. Whenever I cry she disappears only to return with a gooey yellowish liquid-paste and tries to feed that to me. That's insane!

Kid2 : What? And you are a guy! Hope you do not get confused when you grow up. *smirk* But even I do not understand the shit that is called a diaper. I mean, we must go and kill the guy who invented it. Why would any of us want to remain rooted in our shit? It was so much easier to take a dump/leak wherever/whenever we wanted to.

Kid1 : Yeah, you are right. But atleast the diaper thing, you can gesture to your mom by patting your butt and have it removed. But, what's the thing with people pinching my cheeks? Do they think we enjoy our cheeks to be manhandled by rough hands?

Kid2 : Yeah, I hate that too. Even that is harmless compared to what I have to undergo. One of my uncles think he is diplaying his machismo by throwing me up and catching me in mid air. I feel like throwing up whatever I had when he does that. If he really wants to be the macho guy, then he must throw and catch his fat wife and still remain alive.

Kid1 : Exactly. My dad thinks it is very cool on his part to make me sit on his neck and walk me around. My god, whats with these adults and their altitudes? I think I suffer from vertigo already.

Kid2 : Oh, you poor thing. I must also voice aginst those who indulge in tickling me. I just hate all and sundry tickling my baby fat. They must have a law against that. It's just not done man, it's just not done.

Kid1 : Hey, I can see someone coming. They might take us and press our cheeks all over again. Pretend to sleep when they lift you.

Kid2 : I agree. But I am terribly bored of sleeping all day. Especially when I act like sleeping to avoid them and eventually fall asleep. It is a big bore. But it was nice talking to you man.

Kid1 : Yeah, same goes to you. See ya.

Kid2 : Yeah. Good bye.

*Mutual Hand shakes*

P.S. : This was based on a conversation I had with a friend of mine. But when I saw those kids at the supermarket, this conversation came to my mind. As you would have guessed it, this post-script is to appease my friend and share some credit.

Dear girl-at-gangotree

2007-02-10T05:19:00.000-08:00

Okay, let me tell you guys that I haven't abandoned my blog. Not yet. After all the cry baby thingie I did last time, I promise this one would be different. That's so because I have got another idea (no, don't squirm in your seats at my idea of an idea) to start off on another category - Dear... letters. The idea is basically to write an open letter to whom ever I am addressing to. :) First up, would be something I have been wanting to do for a very long time. Alright, here goes...

Dear long-legged-lass-at-Gangotree,
I was astounded. Fascinated. Excited. You can put in so many adjectives, yet they would not seem out of place. Such was your beauty. What attracted me most was what you wore. A blue tops (I dunno what that is called, females out there please help me...) and long embroidered white (long) skirt. I haven't seen many wear that and still manage to create a certain magnetism around them. Yeah, I know I am running out of words to describe you. I just could not take my eyes off you until THAT moment arrived.

In that crowd, there was sudden howling sound. Yes, it was a howl. A howl that would have made a wolf proud. My friend dropped his bhel puri. Another lady threw her plate on to another guy's shirt. Okay, I made that up, but my friend dropped his plate. I was frantically searching to find out whoever it was, but it was YOUR darned cellphone. You have such a taste as to unleash Himesh Reshammiya on to everyone's eardrums when all and sundry calls you? I shudder to think the yelling (no doubt, you would have selected some other yelling as your caller tune) your caller might be subjected to. After that moment, you turned out to be another-girl-in-the-crowd to me. :(

Please select a better ringtone or switch off your phone when I am around.

Thanks in advance,
Bhuvanesh :-)

tsk tsk... ?

2007-01-12T09:38:00.000-08:00

I started the day with a fairly lively discussion on childhood aspirations. It threw up memories of daydreaming and silent vowing. The whole incident makes me feel like doing a reality check to see how close I am to any of my childhood ambitions:

1. Superhero - This was the first of my aspirations and I can remember it quite vividly. I wanted to be a superhero but was aware of the fact that I don’t have superhero abilities. So I spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out a way to get around this limitation. I knew Superman can fly (can he?) and Spiderman got his powers from a mysterious spider. I used to patiently roam in the courtyard of my house and wait for something to happen to me so that I get transformed into a superhero overnight. Sadly, that never happened. tsk tsk...

2. Pilot - I was so taken in by the sheer size of it. I have seen my dad and grandfather ride bikes. But, if a man were to ride that kind of a vehicle, imagine how powerful he should be. My line of thought went like that at that time. I can't remember why, but I had a falling out with pilots soon. tsk tsk...

3. Cricketer - Actually, I think the majority of the Indian kids (males) aspire to be a cricketer as well. Thankfully for me, I figured out pretty soon that my knowledge of this game far exceeds my ability to play it. So, I stuck to doing armchair-analysis of the Indian Cricket Team and dropped this one as soon as possible. tsk tsk...

Well, it's not difficult to see that these dreams haven't been realized. They obviously appear childish but what scares me is the thought of me sitting twenty years down the line and jotting down my current dreams and arriving at similar conclusions about them. Tsk Tsk Tsk.............

January 9, 2007

2007-01-09T09:00:00.000-08:00

The last time I posted a short story - okay, I'll refer to it as a long story, and avoid outrage from stressed out bloggers like her who commented midway through the story saying she cannot take it anymore. Ofcourse, I do not blame her. Well, coming to the point, this post gave me an equally hard time convincing people that it was only fiction and not reality. I have been wondering what made them believe that it really happened and not what I had posted. I will try coming up with better ones next time. Trust me.

This brings us to the seemingly important factor - the length of my posts. Is that a serious problem on this blog? Someone throw some light on that please because I do not want others to get tired by just reading it.

And going by the reaction I received for the previous post, I assure that I would NOT venture in to it for quite some time. All of you can sleep in peace.

This is my first post of this year and hence, I am clarifying a few things about this blog and trying to assure you that the forthcoming posts would be better than the previous ones and none of you need to puke on your keyboard for the things that are being dished out.

Hope all of you enjoyed celebrating the dawning of the new year. Regular posts coming soon. :)

Hope

2006-12-28T09:01:00.000-08:00

It has been a long long time,
so long that it seems a lifetime
I felt a different high after a long long time
that the impending trough occurred in such a short time

More was to follow sooner than later
Everything else became more brighter
Troughs were seemingly forgotten in the happiness
Only to haunt again and instill frustration and sadness

But the path unfolds at it's own pace
with destiny holding the foremost ace
That may be nothing but Lady Luck
which favors only those with pluck

Nothing matters now since the past is only history
and everything else is still your story
Let us reflect and plan
and hope 2007 offers the best it can.

Wishing all you blog readers, a (Very)*(Very) Happy and a Succesful year....

I know it is not NewYear's eve yet, but I would be roaming around all day tomorrow and I can't possibly post this exactly at 12:00p.m. as I planned out earlier. Happy New Year... :-)

My first crush...

2006-12-23T04:42:00.000-08:00

Those of you who are sniggering at the thought of me even having a crush; take heart. This is another of my attempt at being a raconteur. Though, I made all you readers wade through a lot of verbiage during my last attempt, I'll try to keep it simple(r). But that doesn't mean the post is short, is it? This is one will take up a long time as well. So, it is your discretion that must help you to decide when you must return here to go through my story.

I loved boarding school. The school was obviously strict. Why do you think my parents enrolled me into here in the first place? But then, the guys surrounding me made it such a wonderful place. Among them, Rahul is my Best Friend and one of my roommates too. He is one of the reasons why I love this school so much.

Another reason why I loved boarding school was the numerous inter-school fests that seemed to keep occuring every week. It was during one of those seemingly innocuous programme did I first see her. Being holed up at boarding schools all my life, rating females or even 'picking' the right ones to ogle at seemed Rahul's innate talent, while I would look on lamely. But this time around, I knew she was someone special. I seemed to spot her wherever she went, or rather the other way around. She is present wherever I go. We even locked eyes. I could not wait to tell this to Rahul. Even before I could point out to him, he came to me with a smirk. He has that smirk when he is thinking something else and speaking some other rubbish simultaneously. Thus, he has always been a poor liar to me. Something else seems to have come up because his smirk fades as he comes closer to me.

Me : Hey, what happened? Someone proposed to you?
Rahul : Worse. The girl I was eyeing at was looking at you.
Me : Another girl? I was about to say the same. I saw a girl looking at me wherever I go. And you must see her to understand how beautiful she is. She is...
Rahul : Oh, shut up. Ignore her. I'll show you that girl and you will immediately forget the other one.

He took me to where she and her school mates were hanging out. Needless to say, he showed me the same girl about whom I was gushing about. Now, you do not always encounter a time like this. Another guy confirms your feeling without you having to ask him. It gives your ego, a maniacal boost and an adrenaline high that is very difficult to describe. I am brought down to earth sooner than expected, for my reticence emerges from nowhere and I find myself waiting to find her alone. Now, the roles seemingly get reversed and I keep following her unabashedly. Worse part was, she hardly seems to mind my presence. As usual, Rahul comes to my help.

Rahul : Hey, I have found out her school and my cousin studies there. I have asked her to introduce you to that girl. And that girl's name is... Her name is... It is...
Me : Hey, stop being a sadist. Tell me what is her name? Quickly!
Rahul : Alright. Don't get worked up. Her name is Isha.
Me : Wow. How did her parents name her so aptly? I am liking her more and more. I cannot even stop thinking about her. She is...
Rahul : Aw, stuff it!
Me : Did you atleast ask your cousin to speak something good about me to her?
Rahul : I asked you to shut up.

The introductions get over and it seemed a formality. She seemed just as eager to get to know me. I wished I can steer our conversation to asking her out. Preferably when she hints at such an opportunity first.
Me : Why don't we have an ice-cream over there?
Isha : No. I don't like ice-creams.
Me (stunned): What???
Isha (as a matter-of-fact): Yeah. What happened to you? I think you can close your mouth.
Me : Ha ha.. I haven't heard girls hating ice-creams, especially good-looking one like you.

She never seemed to mind such inane conversation and even such blatant flirting, which only kept my sprits soaring.

Me : I'll make you eat atleast one ice-cream some day.
Isha : Really? It is a challenge then. I will eat an ice-cream if you win my challenge.
Me : What? Alright. Spell out. You are going to eat lots of them because of me. So, what's the challenge?
Isha : Tonight, at 12:00 p.m., you have to come to the empty ground beside that girls' boarding school near your dormitory outside your campus.
Me : What? Are you kidding?
Isha : You are backing out so soon?
Me : Hey no. I am not backing out. Could not we have something tougher? You know very well, what happens if they find us boys, breaking those rules. Especially, the late night rules. The warden would beat me up and would ensure I get only stale bread for a week. So, how about something else?
Isha : You cannot even attempt that? You would even refuse to ME?

When your feet is not on earth and head is in the clouds, reality gets obscured. Everything seems smaller and more importantly, easier. So, it is no surprise, that I take up the gauntlet thrown at me. Only because I did not want to hurt her. Yours truly, fell hook, line and sinker.

Me : Alright. You are going to eat lots of ice-creams. Mark my words. What must I do when I get there?
Isha : You will know, when you get there... Bye.

With a tantalising smile, she trailed off leaving me starry-eyed. I realised I was falling for this amazing girl so soon. I was wondering if I should propose to her that night. Maybe this was her idea of a swayamvara; accepting proposals only from the brave one who make it at 12:00p.m. I prayed to god, that I would be the one she chooses.

Rahul promised to arrange everything. He promised that no one would miss me at Dinner Hall, nor the night study hall. I don't know how he manages, but everyone knows he keeps his word if he gives his assurance. He insisted that at around 11:30p.m. itself Bhai - the watchman gets up for his rounds. Bhai is the most feared and vigilant watchman around. Nobody has dared to slight him and those who dared has met with troublesome fates. So, we decided that I get out early, and after 12:00, I try scaling up the wall and wait on the wall till Bhai crosses over to the other end. I still did not know what I was going to do. So I took up the glossed-transparent sheet we used to cover our notebooks. I cut up a metre or so and stuffed it up inside my pockets.

By 8:00 p.m., I was ready. I scaled up the walls and went off. I knew, the flowers growing on the way to the empty ground. I plucked a few of them and wrapped them around the cover I had in my pockets. I then took out the marker pens to write cheesy lines around them and used a blade of grass to tie them together. Now came the wait. The long wait for midnight. I wished I could have an ice-cream ready to offer her now. But, I could not get any by that time. I waited impatiently for the minutes hand of my watch to tick to 12 each hour. With each passing minute, my excitement multiplied and I could barely hold the makeshift bouquet. For fear of crushing it, I had laid it on the ground and sat down beside it watching my watch with a pounding heart. This wait was killing me.

I knew it was going to be a long wait. But nothing like this. I said so because, it was 1:00p.m. and there was no sign of her. It was then I notice it. That window. I had been blinded by my own hopes of an imaginary swayamvara that I had not noticed the single lighted room on the top floor of that girls' dormitory. I notice a sign that has been pasted on the window sill. I cannot read it clearly because it is so faraway and I dared not go closer to it for fear of an ignominy of the highest proportions. But the writing on the wall was as clear as it can be. You do not often find a signpost and your girl missing on your first date, unless your missing girl put it up.

I stamp on the bouquet I had lovingly made with frustration and can hear peals of laughter resounding across the empty grounds. I run away madly towards my dormitory, with my vision blurred by moist eyes. This kind of a snub has never happened to me and I did not know how to react. I reach my dormitory very soon and scale up the wall. But, I forget to look out for Bhai while I am sitting on the wall itself. I jump off without another thought and land upon Bhai himself who was bending down and picking up something only God knows what, and also at this ghostly time.

He also fell down and I glare back at him, lying on my thighs. No one has ever glared back at him like that and I was properly thrashed. His staff seems to be made for that kind of work. I felt angry only at myself for being so gullible. Falling so easily for a girl I barely knew. And this Bhai fellow for exercising such control over boys in this dormitory.

After a sound thrashing and a report to my warden, I troop off to my room only to find Rahul awake. One look at me and he burst out laughing. His laughing woke up the others as well. Needless to say, I became the laughing stock of the whole dormitory for more than a month.

It had been nobody but Rahul's idea to play a prank on me. He insists, he never thought that matters would reach the warden. To hell with his thoughts. I must have suspected him when he came to me with such a smirk. And to think, he has told me umpteen tales of duped boys and girls when he and his notorious cousin team up. I was so smitten by Isha (she was after all Isha, I learnt from his cousin later), that I failed to see the connection when his cousin, of all the people, introduced me to Isha. But, whether it was a reality or a farce, it was my true first crush. And my first crush has been crushed...

And...

You wanted to know what I did to Rahul?

He had to eat MY stale bread for more than a week AND clean up MY bed.

P.S.: I wanted to write, how Rahul managed to cover up my absence in the dining hall and other places with some ideas I had. Then I realised, that would make this post too lengthy, and so decided not to torment the handful of people who comment on my site, any further. I'll have to save those ideas for subsequent posts.

8 - caution : looooong post...

2006-12-12T08:33:00.000-08:00

I have been tagged by Life Lover and not without a good reason. As the title suggests, this post has got to do with 8 things about me whether you like it or not. Needless to say, a child has been handed its favourite toy. Ofcourse, a cursory glance at my archives would reveal that this is the first tag I am doing. :) But, this tag is something I felt happy on receiving because this is going to help me overcome the blogger's version of a Writer's block. More on that later. But she is so true when she said this was a seemingly innocuous topic, but still is open ended. Alright, enough of chaff for now. Let me get started.

1. I am this quiet, sweet(?) guy. I cannot bring myself to be rude even if it is towards people who seem to be born with a knack of uttering sarcastic/bitter one-liners. Ofcourse, I have been both at the receiving end and the donor end whenever sarcasm has to be dished out. Invariably, I get along well with everyone including the very same people I have(/have not) clashed with. Now, I am not exactly plotting behind their back or anything like that. Its just that. A quality mysteriously imbibed inside me. I am not even sure whether this is going to be beneficial or detrimental in the long run.

2. I am a self-confessed, unabashed, hardcore, A.R.Rahman fanatic.
I can never ever get tired of listening to his songs. Even now, I am humming along with 'Yeh Jo Des Hai' playing on. I honestly enjoyed listening even to His Chinese composition - "Warriors of Heaven and Earth". I have no clue how He finds resonance deep inside my( and millions of others' ) soul(s) as His famed keyboard gets to work in the wee hours of the night at His equally famed Panchathan Recording Inn. His music speaks a divine language that is beyond the realm of human comprehension. As Truly Rahmantic suggested, there must be a butterfly that flaps its wings somewhere in New Zealand or Jamaica or elsewhere whenever He starts to compose a tune. And, He always surprises me. I often wonder, 'How the hell did He know to insert that tabla inside a chorus?' or 'How does He judge the timbre of a new talent?' or 'How did it occur to Him that He Himself can sing THAT well??' , 'How?' , 'How??' , 'HOW???' I have no idea how. I bet, there are millions pondering these imponderables. God bless Him.

3. Replace A.R.Rahman with Sachin Tendulkar in the first line of my thingie no. 2 and you get my thingie no. 3. Cricket is a religion and Sachin Tendulkar is the God of that religion. I keep reliving His shots long after India have won/lost the match. Those magical wrists that seemed to convey to the ball as to where to go. His cover drive, when He gets on to that front foot of His and cajoles the ball to reach the fence. His best shot in his whole repertoire of strokes must be His straight drive off either foot, His patented paddle-sweep notwithstanding. The fielders, the bowler, the non-striker can only watch the ball kissing the ground even as it lands on the advertising boards with a thud while He stays majestically at the crease not even bothering to run. Every coaching manual's dream player. Every captain's dream batsman. My love for His batting and knowledge of cricket far exceeds my ability to play it. Still, to me, cricket will never be the same when this great man finally decides to be content with all the peaks He has scaled. God bless Him too.

4. I assure you people that this will be the last of my celebrity idolising. That is so because, the list of people I go gaga over is really incomplete without this amazing lady. I was first astounded to know that many people dismiss her as wooden, ice-maiden and so on. I could not care less. To me, Aishwarya Rai was the ultimate screen goddess. No less. Cast her in any movie, and I will come and watch it for her sake even if it happens to be a Zulu movie. Ofcourse, I just cannot watch her crying. I get dragged into her. It first happened to me when she tears roll out of her eyes when she is singing such an awesome song - 'Yengae enathu kavidhai' in Kandukondain Kandukondain. That was the 10th grade holidays for me and tears rolled out of me involuntarily in the theatre. Then, a few months back, Zee TV or some other channel telecast Taal (do you people want a wikipedia link for Taal?) I was watching it, and felt my voice go hoarse and a lump in my throat when she cried. I decided, enough was enough, I can never watch her crying again. She is beauty personified in its purest form. A genetical masterpiece. A flame attracts so many moths(her so called beaus) unwittingly because of its radiance(beauty, nothing else) that so many moths get drawn towards, only to extinguish the flame that drew it. I only hope, she settles down comfortably well off-screen as well.

But all of you would agree with me that these three people are devoted philanthropists and does not want to publicise it to a news-starved media.

5. As I said, enough of celebrity stuff. The one thing my cousins and my close friends know for sure is that I constantly needle my younger brother. He is into his 12th grade now but he is still a cutesie kid brother to me and my mom. Ofcourse, nowadays he has learnt to give it back and his tongue is doing a fairly good job of it. And he has gone a step ahead and everybody at home is devastated (no less!) to even reply to him or even ask him a favour. now, once I got so pissed off and tired, that I remarked out loudly. "I am gonna get admitted and get recharged with bottle of glucose to combat this fellow." That had everybody laughing and needless to say, I would have to run away from him whenever anyone utters this line. And I keep coming up with derivatives, while he comes up with his own and show goes on. I cannot stop needling him even if my parents keep pleading with me to act my age. Ha ha ha...

6. This is a weird one. I am immune to all ticklers. I mean the people who try to make you wince and cringe and bring gory smiles on your faces by tickling under your armpits, your belly, your hips, your ankles and so on. I don't know how. Fellows have been surprised and disappointed(?) when I showed no signs of discomfiture when they tried all their hocus-pocus rib-tickling magic on me and ate the humble paratha.

7. This one is really weird. I really cannot fathom why I do that. You bring me to a room with checkered tiles, and you will find me walking with utmost care so as to land only on the white tiles or the black ones. No cross-jumping. And also landing only on the center of those tiles. No smudging of borders. In case, I mistakenly happen to step on the line between two successive tiles, then I wantonly step on another line, as if equalising a fault, before getting back to my center-of-white(/black)-tile-only gait.

8. This must rank as the weirdest one of all the three. I will keep adjusting the volume on the television to be an even number. I don't know from where or why I do that. It has to be 18 or 20. 19 is definitely not allowed. So is 21. I try to keep coming up with explanations as to what causes this habit of mine, but with no success. But, just as I thought the even-number-only policy has worn off, it got replaced by another bug. The volume number and the channel number HAS to be same. If it is channel number 15, then the volume must be 15. No other option. Anyone reading this, has any idea is free to mail me or better use the comments section. I am not making this up just for numbers' sake. Honest. Of course, when I am tired or depressed, I care two hoots for shitty even number thingie. But otherwise...

Guess, this has become such a large post unwittingly. I made a conscious effort to be precise in my previous post even if I was only rambling about the obvious. But now, thanks to Life Lover she has proved to me that brevity is NEVER my forte. Thanks Life Lover ji...

Not many people visit this blog and so, consequently I cannot tag so many. Those of you hopping by, can take it as a tag and post it. Those omnipresent Anonymous commenters are free to do the same in the comments section provided they list eight of it in separate comments. he he he...

Any way, I tag : The Magical Mind , The Wandering Thoughts of The Wind , World Around Me... and Rahmantic .

A.R.Rahman - the singer...

2006-12-02T22:32:00.000-08:00

Guru has been playing on a perpetual loop on my comp and I cant help but wonder about the journey this man has travelled from a reticent singer to a confident crooner. The first time A.R.Rahman lent his voice was for "Chinna chinna aasai..." from Roja. I don't know what the hindi lyrics were, but all he did was that 'yelelo' bit. I have no clue what raaga it was (or is) but everyone felt the song fresh and vibrant. The classical village belle intro song.

Digression -> And I cannot for the life of me stop comparing with "Barso Re..." from Guru - a village belle track for Mani. And I just cannot wait for this film to get released, even if I cannot make out hindi. <- End of digression

A.R.Rahman showed us his full potential when he made a nation hum to his "Humma humma..." from Bombay. Ofcourse, that song was a sort of 'item' song and had a gorgeous Sonali Bendre blessed to land on the screen swaying to that track. (And, someone please correct me, if he had sung a full-length song before this one.)

Now, listening to this man erupt into a full throated "Jaage Hain..." gives me goosepimples. Wishing this man, this musical genius to enthrall us, with his singing as much as he introduces exciting talents like Naresh Iyer, Chinmayi and lots others.

Awesome!

2006-11-12T21:17:00.000-08:00

The other day I watched Roja on TV. I think it has been a very long time, since I watched the movie, because I seemed to take note of so many things. It was not intentional though. I just happened to notice those. I think it was and will remain one of the very few films, to be set in the backdrop of terrorism and still remain cute and heart-warming.

Mani Ratnam surprisingly showed very less red paint, when compared to his earlier violent films Nayagan and Thalapathi (which according to me are classics). I say it was violent when compared to the time it was released. (When my aunt was pregnant at the time of Nayagan, her parents forbade her from watching it fearing for the health of my yet-to-be-born cousin. When I look at her now, I feel they should have let my aunt watch it.) But, here in Roja, Arvind Swamy's face gets to show blood, but most of the time, the emphasis is on the dialogues and terrorists behavior. There was not a single scene where he was crying because of the pain of getting bashed up or blood, and I thought that was very subtle heroism without any self-aggrandizing dialogues.

I was very much drawn into the cinematography which was done by Santosh Sivan. There were almost zero aerial shots, the matrix style rotate-and-revolve through shots were unheard of. But the colors used and the 'feel' generated by each frame was pure ecstasy. Not for nothing do they call it a teamwork.

"What about the music, you dumbo?", I hear someone wondering out aloud. I am getting there. The music was and is out of the world. A.R.Rahman was lucky to have been spotted by Mani. No other filmmaker could have done justice to this prodigious talent. Even in the very first scene, the background score was so pleasing, that you get sucked into it. And in one of the scenes when Madhoo keeps running around her house shouting, that she has seen the groom, has a piece done with the violin(I think.) which featured as the tune for the "telephone" song for Indian. Pats on my back for making this discovery. Others who have already spotted that or any other references are free to make use of my comments section. Oh, yeah. I am generous. Now back to the film.

The most cutest scene must be when Madhoo enters the room wearing only his sweater and trying to cover up her bare legs. The look on both their eyes spoke so much that no dialogue could create that feel. Such innocence. Soooo cute. You wonder how the hell did Mani pick newcomers out of the blue for these roles and still extract so much from their eyes! The man is a genius. The scene where Arvind Swamy jumps out and tries to extinguish the Indian flag with "Thamizha thamizha" in the background, has no words to describe. I got goosepimples watching that. And the song, "Kathal Rojave" sung by SPB must be one of the best. It has the simplest of lyrics and yet, is so so soooooooo melodious. I don't know about the hindi versions and so forgive me if the hindi version didn't have simple lyrics, but I bet the song would have been the same enchanting best. Oh, I could go on and on with vivid descriptions of every frame which have been etched deep in my mind.(For those who wonder, I do have a mind on my own. :D)

Let me finish with this final piece. The climax where the terrorist is shown to let him go unharmed seems a stretch when I saw it now. But, again A.R.Rahman saves the scene, infact he elevates it with a piece that plays when Arvind stumbles and this terrorist involuntarily prevents him from falling.

To state in a single word - the title of this post!

Do girls lech at men? I say YES !!

2006-10-27T11:26:00.000-07:00

This post can be termed as the inspiration for the previous post. If you are asking me if this is the prequel to the previous post, I don't know if I can term it like that. You tell me.

Lonely looking girl at a bus-stop. The bus-stop is crowded. Boy waiting at the same bus-stop. Bus does not seem to be arriving. The boy looks at the girl. The girl turns back and looks at the boy at that instant. Eyes lock, for a millionth of a second. Boy turns away immediately. "She must have thought I was leching at her. Shit. As if I pray to god to come to this bus-stop to lech at her."

Yes, I turned away so soon, that my neck was in danger of chucking my head out. Now, the question that sprang up was why are boys permanently assumed to be the one to be leching at girls?? I must add here, that I did not notice her facial expressions, when our 'eyes met'. So, I don't know if she thought I was leching at her.

But it is not difficult imagining the following conversation with her boyfriend. She could be that common girl as in the common man...

Apparently-Leched-at-girl : Today evening also, there was a guy at the bus-stop eying me lecherously. That is why I am asking you to bring your bike/car and pick/drop.take me to office/company/shopping/home/wherever...
Her stressed-boyfriend-concerned : What today also?
A-L-A-G : What?(starting to sob) You are even asking me? You are not being helpful/thoughtful/concerning/caring/(whatever danger word comes here). I think we better need to talk.
HSBf : Okay, okay. I'll try adjusting my schedules. ('May that ****** who happened to look at her rot in hell! Now, I may have to drop and pick her back in this traffic!! May that fellow...')

Or a conversation with her female friend.

A-L-A-G : Oh yeah, the buses are becoming more unsafe.
Her friend : Why? What happened??
A-L-A-G : Oh, it was horrible. Don't you ask me about it. It makes me feel sick about myself.
H F : What? Just tell me what happened? Won't you even tell me??
A-L-A-G : It was horrible. What can I say? There was this guy at the bus-stop constantly leching at me while I was waiting. And the bus took so long to come, that all his eyes were on me. I just wanted to hide somewhere and wished the bus would come soon. As soon as the bus came, I jumped and escaped from his sight somehow.
H F : (giving a Oh-you-poor-thing look at her) These men! Poor you...

Do you get the drift? Alright, I agree that I made those things and overdid whatever that was to be conveyed. That particular girl might actually have ignored me the instant I turned away. But I think I can safely assert that majority of the girls would have presumed that I would have been leching at them in that situation. And all these brings us to an even bigger question.

Why the sh!t did I turn away instantly when she looked at me? And Why the F**K did I presume she would have thought that I was leching at her ? In this particular case, I am willing to be considered myself as one among the hundred. I know many boys/men actually do lech at girls/women irrespectively and more so if she is looking attractive. But does that mean girls do not lech at men? Whoever votes a 'no' or even a 'cant say' to that question should have their heads examined. Girls do it all the time. If she looks at me, then she saw me. If I look at her, then I leched at her. Does it deserve to be as simple as that? No way; but that is the way it is perceived. Atleast in this city (some metroplis, you might say). And that bugs me to no end, that it has driven me to do a post on it so soon.

P.S. : I perfectly remember that I do not remember reading about lech as a verb. Lech is a noun. I know I have made improper use of it, but I believe that conveyed my feelings(?) better. Anyway, phooey to Wren&Martin.

P.P.S : That girl at the bus-stop was really attractive to look at... winks & smiles :)

What was that ?

2006-10-24T11:10:00.000-07:00

The tremendous response I received for my previous post made me to do something different to key in. After this fellow's particular post, I have been 'inspired' to try hogging up the cyberspace for a similar venture. So here goes, my new role as a raconteur... And for all those with lots of work to do, come back to this page when you have time. I warn you this is a long story...

It was one of those forlorn railway stations in the suburbs of the metropolis at dusk. I was waiting for the train to come and the platform was deserted except for that dame. That angelic face. That soft, silvery hair that tried to defy gravity ever so softly against the gentle breeze. She was leaning against a pillar looking at the horizon, at the track. I could not believe I was stranded with a beautiful female without a single soul in sight. You have heard/seen this somewhere? Yeah, me too. It brought back memories of a ManiRatnam classic - Dil Se... I know it sounds too good to be true and I found myself pinching hard.

She seemed anxious and kept looking at the track as if that might transport her to wherever she wants to. She seemed to take no notice of me, as if I was invisible. I was thinking hard, very hard to come up with a genuine reason to talk to her. Shall I hide my watch and ask the time? Shall I switch off my cellphone and ask atleast the time? Something seemed to be disturbing her and she was sure looking tensed up. Come on, or you are going to feel sorry for not talking to her. I mustered up courage(?) and decided to make the move. But I was flabbergasted to find her advancing towards me. I could never forget that face, her beautiful hair flowing backwards and those blue-green eyes staring at me. Yes, me! My knees turned jelly, the pulse raced like crazy and wished she would not hear my heart pounding against my chest.

Girl : Do you have a phone?
Me : (Stumped) Hey, that was supposed to be my line. Now what?
Girl : Hello? Do you have a phone? Do you?

She gestured by raising her thumb and sticking her little finger out and bringing that hand close to her left ear. Apparently, she had diagnosed so soon that something is wrong with me.

Me : (Found my voice from nowhere) Phone? Phone, yes. Yes. Sure, I have got a phone.
Girl : I did not ask that question to conduct any survey, I want to make an urgent call to dad. I need to let him know that the train is late and not me. So if you have got a phone please take it out of those deep recesses of your God-knows-when-you-last-washed jeans. Can I please make a call? It is very important.

The apparent sarcasm and that hint of rudeness was covered up with such a sweet voice and a pretty face, that I found myself bending backwards to give her the phone. It was only after giving her the phone, did my paranoia return.
What if she runs away with my phone? What am I doing here, getting infatuated with a nobody and gifting my phone? No way, she can outrun me. Then, I take a look at those shapely legs. She looks at me but does not say anything and is still fiddling with the phone without dialling. I do not want to be seen leching and so I turn away. What if she turns out to be a martial arts expert and downs me with a single kick? Nah. She is so beautiful and I am not a pervert to misbehave with her. Would I have given my phone if a guy or an old-aged lady asks for? Nah! I see her advancing to me again.

Girl : I am not comfortable with this model of the phone and I simply could not unlock its keypad. So, I switched off, removed the battery and thought that would remove the lock, but it asks for a password. So can you help me out here?

Now, I was mildly angry that this girl was taking things for granted. Hell, she was taking me for granted.

Me : Why did you remove its battery? You asked for my help to unlock itself. Where was I at that time? On Mars?
Girl : Yeah, and I am from Venus. (giggles followed from her)

That was a most stupid reply but that giggle got me. She had me there. I made a mental note not to feel happy when a dame giggles at me like that. Now, I unlocked the keypad and gave it to her. Our fingers caught each other. The touch. But she seemed nonchalant. She banished me to Mars once again. Hey what if her dad was somewhere in Europe or Australia? I am phobic towards mobile phone bills and I consistently run up gigantic ones. I was wondering how much I am going to pay for a call that I did not make.

Hey wait a minute! What if she is a terrorist? No way! How do you know she is? How do you know she is not? Do terrorists arrive with photo IDs? But how can this girl be? Thus, I was battling with myself about this mysterious damsel in apparent distress. So I decided to do the most cultured and ethical act. Eavesdrop.
"I'll be home soon. I am really at the railway station. No I did not do... I'll be at home soon..."
I have never been a witness to a more mundane one-end conversation. But what if all that were spoken were code words? What if that call detonated an explosive somewhere? The police would follow the trail and break into my house at the dead of the night and I would have to explain the call I never made. Hell, they would never want an explanation, only a confession. With these morbid thoughts swirling in my mind, I turned to look at her and she handed me my phone with the sweetest smile that my heart skipped a beat. Oh My God! Let this be true...

Girl : My phone broke on the way, and so I had to ask for yours. Thanks a lot for this help.
Me : Oh no problem. It is not everyday that I get to help out a person in an emergency. You seem to be in a hurry.
Girl : I was. But now I informed my dad, so I can calmly wait for the train.
Me : (gathering all my courage once again) There seems to be a problem with the train and it does not seem to be arriving anytime. There is a coffee shop very very near by, and I tell you it is very good. Shall we go there and wait till we find the level-crossing gate being lifted up? If you do not feel like it, then 'we' need not go....
Girl : (without hesitation which only gladdens my heart) Sure. Lets go.

We held hands and talked really boring stuff, nothing personal, but that was the most memorable evening I ever had. We both exchanged numbers and parted ways and I was waiting like crazy for her call. The call never came. Her number was still switched off. The next day passed and night came. But sleep did not. It was because of her. It was well past mid night and I switched on the TV. The door was suddenly broken into and a horde of policemen came barging in when my eyes fell on to the unread newspaper on the table that headlined an explosion yesterday dusk at a nearby city.....

The stuff people come up with for a site...

2006-10-11T22:29:00.000-07:00

I made a mental note at the beginning of this blog (really?) that I would not post about technical stuff, for the simple reason I am not techno-savvy. Hell, some computer engineer-about-to-pursue-MS kamnati I am. I am not exactly averse to them, but I know I do not exactly hate them.

Well, coming to the point, (Of course, I had a point. You never thought I would start keying in a post without even having a point, did you? Tsk. Tsk.) I chanced upon this site (do not ask me how; I forgot.) and I was very much surprised and got damn impressed. In case you are lazy to click that link or hate your browser to have one more tab/window, I will post the name of the site here http://dontclick.it/ . I am a non-link-clicker myself and I perfectly understand your apprehensions. The reason I took so long to come to the point was (Yeah, I agree. You are completely justified to tell me that brevity is not my forte. I know. Now, let me try to lead you to wherever this post is leading to.) , to make sure this post contains more than a couple of links to that site.

Now, I do not want to say anything more about that site. There is nothing new in the contents, in fact, there is nothing. The style, the interface is all too good. Maybe the site is very simple to design and simple to maintain and all that stuff. But it is new and fresh, atleast to me and so I thought it deserved a post on my exalted(?) blog. Tell me your opinion on the site. :)

Unrequited love

2006-09-29T05:28:00.000-07:00

Now, I don't know what makes it so touching to me, but I seem to relate to this one better than any other. The concept of unrequited love has been explored ad nauseam by our Tamil/Telugu/English/Hindi (of course!)/ and so many other film-makers that any talk about it has become silly/senti/cheesy stuff for those who believe in quoting only the 'hep' quotes.

I don't know whether I am such a dreamy, starry-eyed, head-in-the-clouds fellow. (Yeah, I know. I know. I metamorphose into a more verbose identity when I log into my blog.) I have always been drawn towards those unnoticed lovers they show on screen. (Lets ignore crap films that had crappy 'actors' and crappier music) Imagine yourself in love and your proposal has been rejected. Whether it is a slap or a "So sorry da. I have made my move. It's your enemy." line, you feel like nothing you have ever experienced before. (of course, it doesnt hold true if that was your 175th proposal to the 247th girl who's only sin was to smile at you because you tripped and fell because of her high heeled stool. And don't ask me how.)

So, here's me. My hand or rather my keyboard at love. I mean, unrequited love. Now, I tried hard to get each line to be rhyming with the previous line. It took up so much time. Then a brainwave hit me. I used the same words. Clever of me is'nt it? Alright, anybody still reading this post, check it out.

With every passing day
I loved her more
With every passing day
She neglected me more
With every passing day,
Her mind erases my image into
The obscure oblivion
She showed me what it is
To rebuff a person you love
To show nonchalance when your
Mind, body and soul burns...

But still...

Is there nothing we can do now
For the things we once had done?
Can we not tread the path
Of the memories we shun?
Can we not talk sweet nothings
Of the past that we did so often?
Can we not forget the days
That we both so do dread ... ?

I cannot imagine such a thing happening to me. But still, in case this happens to me, I know there are more fish in the sea than the one that escaped my net.

The damned CAS and the resultant coverage of God's return :(

2006-09-14T04:09:00.000-07:00

I always hated the CAS system, but today I got mad. I mean, you have got your God getting a chance atlast to play after a difficult surgery, and you cannot watch it. I had to be content with following commentary through Cricinfo. I started cursing SCV and its owners and its family members and their parentage and so on. And on. On and on and on. Picture this, Sachin bats through the Indian innings on his return from the lay off. Do I need to say anymore? And I have copy-pasted from Cricinfo the following snippets. Those were particularly the phases that I abused the whole parentage of this damned system while the rest of the nation watches these live without a care in the world. Damn the CAS. Damn those bastards. I would gleefully type in all those expletives here, but I backspace it on second thoughts.

18.2 Smith to Tendulkar, SIX, That is maximum! short ball, Tendulkar quickly on the back foot pulls it well in the air over the square leg fence into the stands, wonderful strike

47.1 Bravo to Tendulkar, SIX, SHOT! Full on off and he leans into it and drives that over covers for six, amazing shot from Sachin

47.4 Bravo to Tendulkar, SIX, Fantastic! The Sachin of yore! Lands outside off stump, the half-volley,and its dispatched with a high-arm over mid-off again for maximum, awesome!

48.6 Taylor to Tendulkar, SIX, bye bye birdie! Amazing! Fullish on the stumps and its just swung high over long-on for maximum for Sachin's fourth six, is he on fire or what?

49.5 Bravo to Tendulkar, SIX, Not this time! Maximum No. 5! Comes down the track to another slower one, frees the arms and unleashes an awesome extracover drive for six, intense!

Guess, those five descriptions of the sixes would be license to abuse the CAS fellas' ancestry. Also, there were many images like the one at the top, that got me worked up. Added to these, none of the news channels were sufficient. I thought they might atleast show glimpses of his shots. I would die to watch those. Instead they kept switching over to their reporter/camerperson's 'expert analysis' and bullshit. It was CNN-IBN that kept doing that. That network did atleast that. NDTV was worse. They were showing a gardening-cum-housekeeping pigshit show. Can you believe it? It is often being reported that cricket is a religion in India and Sachin is that religion's God. That God had reached a century for the 40th time and these fellows were gardening with denim jeans and designer jackets. You can trust these fellows with all your money to show gory images of mangled bodies whenever a calamity happens, in realtime. But today, especially when CNN-IBN was showing the stroke that got him his century, NDTV editors were smoking ganja or what? So I am curious to know what it was. Okay, that is a bit harsh on those fellows I agree. But what do you do, when they announce a commercial break and you are left speechless since they promise you to show some more varieties of tiles to lay it over your portico???
Switch off the TV and return to Cricinfo and some more expletives... And some sadness.. :(

Call Bhaskar

2006-09-11T02:40:00.001-07:00

This post is about a phone call I received yesterday. It was a wrong call and that person staunchly believed that I was Bhaskar's friend/colleague/passer-by/whatever. So what? What's special about a person calling you by mistake, that this fellow has started keying it in, you might think. Well, I would not have mentioned it here had not that guy called me four times on the trot. Yeah, four. I managed to count. I have progressed from abacus and have lined up those scientific calculators and... I digress.. I was actually listening to 'Sillunu...' and was thinking about the lyrics when my phone shouted at me. Lets call that dumb guy as DG. Well, here's the conversation.

Me : *muttering* "Hello?"
DG : "Hello?"
Me : "Hello, Who is this?"
DG : "Oh, Ravi! Call Bhaskar."
Me : *What the...* "Sorry, wrong number."

and I cancel the call then and there having felt disturbed by careless morons during my appreciation of the Fine Arts. Bhaskar who? I ask...

I was called up again. It was him.
Me : *with a gruff voice* "Hello?"
DG : "Bhaskar?"
Me : "I said this is a wrong number. There is no Bhaskar here. Check your number thoroughly before calling me again. Okay?"
DG : *hesitantly* "Okay."

The call ended and I continue to hum to that song.

The phone rang again. It was him again.
Me : *with a gruffier voice* "Helloooo?"
DG : "Bhaskar, I know this your work. Stop playing with me and return my money."
Me : *admiring this guy's logical reasoning abilities* "This is not Bhaskar! This really is a wrong number you are calling to again and again."
DG : *coolly* "No no no. I know about him. You dont have to strain yourself. Just call him. He would be beside you somewhere or at the ladies' cubicles"
Me : *What the..* "Hey! cant you understand english?. This is a wrong number. There is no Bhaskar here."
DG : "Oh, is it?"
Me : *amazed that he's still on the line* "Yeah, dont you call me again!"

and I cancel the call without even waiting for that guy's response and I continue to listen to the song happily ever after, so you thought. All my artistic leanings disappear and have left me wondering what the hell there is to do now. There was this sickening feeling that I did not wait to listen to Mr. DG's response. And sure enough, this guy had had perseverance and loads of it.

Me : *with my gruffiest possible tone* "Hello!!!!"
DG : "This is.."
Me : *interrupting him in the rudest possible way* "No, you listen to me first! This not Bhaskar's contact number. I repeat, there is absolutely no connection between Bhaskar and this number!"
DG : *raising his voice* "Hey! What am I supposed to do? They gave me this number as Bhaskar's number. But you are the one who is saying this as the wrong number."
Me : *stunned at his intelligence* "If I say this is the wrong number, then you are supposed to check it with the person who gave you this number. Not the person you are tormenting. Is that clear? The next time you call me, I will complain your number to the Cyber Police!"
DG : "Oh. Ok."
Me : "Ok?"

But he had ended the call. I wanted to make sure he doesnt call again. And I guess, cyber police has got its name spread far and wide to act as a deterrent. You see, he hasn't called me ever since...

Check out that bgm

2006-09-08T05:42:00.000-07:00

By now, whoever chances upon my blog, even if its through blog hopping, must have understood that I have got nothing worthwhile to blog about.. Yeah, I am not working(as of now..), I am not studying(as of now..) and so on.. So you must forgive me for the dull posts I had previously posted and this seemingly worthless piece I have posted now..

What I wanna convey is I am gonna blog about other blogs. That is my thoughts about others' thoughts. This is because it is always easier to comment about somebody and infact even more easier to criticise.. he he... But then, other occasional thoughts, views and happenings might find their place on this blog..

So here's the thing. One of my friends has posted a bgm that is supposedly from the so-hot Shivaji .. (remember those outlandish garish costumes that invaded our mailboxes and shocked the hell out of everyone? The censors are not taking it easily and wants Shankar to include a disclaimer since it is horror material. Well, that deserves a separate post and will try doing it soon..) Well, that bgm is sure good and infact repeated hearings certainly makes it good very much like A.R.Rahman's style. But it brings back memories of that bgm that got circulated around our mobiles as Rajini's intro bgm for Chandramukhi.. Infact he has even given the source, a messy website called cooltoad that requires you to login everytime download some stuff. I'll tell you why it is so messy in some another post.

And for you people checking this out, suggest ways of finding out the authenticity of that one.

Does being a pessimist actually help us to lead a happy life devoid of expectations?

2006-03-15T21:27:00.000-08:00

Optimistic has become a commercial term that seems to be on everybody's lips nowadays. You find cricketers expressing optimism right after a defeat about future assignments, politicians exuding confidence before the elections, and even your neighbour aiming to get a loan and similar aspirations. I have not been particularly affected by any shortcomings but have felt luck to be elusive. And naturally, that has not exactly made me the eternal optimist but being a light-hearted fella, I never take things seriously and so I am not much of a pessimist either. er.. ahem.. yes, I am getting to the point, thanks for patiently waiting till I get here...

I actually came across a profile in orkut that actually led me into thinking about this. It read "Its better to be a pessimist since I am either right or plesantly surprised!" Is'nt that so right? In today's world, we all have to agree that reaping successes however smaller in magnitude is proving to be increasingly difficult. You are soo optimistic about the outcome of an event and suddenly it falls flat right at your feet. How do you feel? Like an idiot? Cheated out? I may be speaking about the extremes, but imagine such a situation where you are geared up for a defeat. You are pessimistic about the result and just hope that it is'nt too harsh. Surprise! Your pals have won the event and it's party time!! You are actually happy because it was a pleasant surprise. Of course everybody would say the key is to stay confident. I dont wish to imply that you should not be confident, I merely want all you people to think about this line of reasoning. After all being optimistic gives all of us what is really needed - hope - and that's what drives us all towards our endeavors, isnt it?

The ability to say "No" and stay firm at it... - I wish I could do that...

2006-02-25T23:28:00.000-08:00

There have been lots of issues I used to cogitate deep inside my mind, but nothing has dominated my mental space as much as this thing apart from the course of action regarding my future. Be it at home or school or college or hostel or what else... there has always been times when I have felt why I were not able to refuse a request. There have always been certain times when I have felt uncomfortable when agreeing to those requests. Maybe it was my brain, analysing the inherent discomfiture that would sure accompany it and my heart overriding it as usual. Which brings us to the more important question. Is it really worth saying no to a person whom you value lot more than an accompanying strain on your whole being? Or is your being more important than another person's perception about yourself and a help which could anyway be accomplished by someone else however ineffective that might be?? But at the end of it all, those certain things seem smaller when you take a bird's-eye view of the entire happenings. But still these things continue to happen as I continue to disagree less and agree to more requests still. I guess it all depends on the individual and the circumstance rather than my own being. Maybe that is why I melt easily to all those 'requests' rather than stay firm even with a polite "No".

If you are thinking I have been thrust a difficult work to do without offering a choice, then believe me, it is not so. This is just another of my thoughts that occupy the very few moments I spend in solitude...

I met Asin! yesssss!!!

2006-02-17T00:05:00.000-08:00

It was on a Friday, February 10th. We were in college, being vetti. After a game of cricket, we were wondering what to do. A brainwave! And we were off to Mayajaal, to watch Rang de Basanti. Since it was only about a half-an-hour from our college and tickets were a sure certainty, we set off almost immediately without caring for lunch even. We reached very early for the show, and had lunch at one of the eat-outs nearby and were pleasantly surprised to find trailer vans, and camera equipments. All huge ones. But, all we saw were models who were looking damn good too. We spent the time bird-watching like this. Everyone of us, myself,Praveen,Mukunth,Shankar,Prasanna,Rajiv,Satheesh,Raghul & Hasan were whiling away the time like this, joking amongst ourselves, pulling each one's legs.

The show started and we went inside. I could not follow hindi, but wanted to watch this movie especially for Aamir & A.R.Rahman. So, it was Shankar, the multilinguist amongst us, to translate every line uttered, stting next to me. I watched the movie spellbound, and he was doing a painstakingly awesome job of translating it for me. The intermission arrived so soon, and we petered out very much enjoying it.

Then all hell broke loose... It was Asin! She has arrived to short a commercial ad for Mirinda. She was wearing a sleeveless orange tops and a white knee-length skirt. She was stunning! Boy, we could not take our eyes off her, and kept staring at her dazed and unashamedly without batting an eyelid. We were all desperately searching for anything worthwhile to thrust at her face for an autograph. All I could find was the visiting card of the company that offered me a project for this final senmester. It was Praveen, Shankar, Raghul & myself queueing up. These fellows had a passport photo of themselves and got theirs first. I was next in. She flashed the sweetest of all smiles and I was grinning ear to ear. Unable to resist myself, I asked her something for which she responded in such a demure manner that I could not forget that moment :-) I cant type that here, because of certain circumstances, that prevent me from doing that. When, Praveen & Shankar got theirs, they were whisked away immediately by a lousy security bum. So, none of them ever knew what I talked to her and what she replied back to me. But, I was so elated that I forgot that the intermission was only for a few minutes.

Shankar, my awesome translator, preferred staring at Asin to translating the movie for me. I begged with him because I so badly wanted to watch it, and could not do anything without him. I had to settle with Raghul, who knew hindi but cant understand it himself! Already, I had missed out about 10-15 minutes of the second half and feared whether something important has gone by. Though, I could not understand the dialogues of the second half, I could follow the screenplay well enough and was damn impressed with it. I would have preferred for a different end, but admittedly, that would not have conveyed what the directed wanted the film to do.

When I came out of the movie, Asin was still present with Jeeva as the cinematographer and Priyadarshan as the director, doing their umpteenth retake. We all decided, we would go up to her and talk something, when we realised it was not going to happen. We enquired around and came to know that the day's shooting was almost over and the venue for tomorrow would be AVM's studios. We all petered out of Mayajaal wondering about AVM...

My first attempt at blogging - so forgive me if its dumb

2005-06-16T12:00:00.000-07:00

The following is a true incident, but the exact name of the person has unfortunately been lost on account of poor record-keeping.

Here goes!

This is a famous paper written for an Oxford philosophy exam,
normally requiring an eight page essay answer
and expected to be backed up with source material,
quotes and analytical reasoning.

This guy wrote the answer given below and got through!

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OXFORD EXAMINATION BOARD 1987
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ESSAY QUESTION

Question: What is courage? (50 Marks)

Answer: This is courage

( and he left the paper blank!!)