LoudMouth

Jean e Maraysa dancing Zouk.

2009-01-13T18:03:00.000+05:30

Zouk

Confusing words...

2009-01-04T19:44:00.002+05:30

Her Majesty would be at the end of her wits seeing her language been twisted around for more than what the words can convey.

Why is 'cuteeeee' more cute than 'cute'?
Why is 'cho sweeeeet' sweeter than so 'sweet'?
Why does 'loooooovvvvvvveeeee you' means more love than just 'love you'?
Why does 'missss u' means more "misses" than 'miss you'?
Why does 'byeeee' mean more than 'bye'?

What did I miss in my English classes? I thought I was always attentive and never missed anything, except for the grades...

Swing Latino 2007 Champions

2008-11-28T17:49:00.002+05:30

Swing Latino, 2007 World Salsa champions
Music: "Kimbara" Celia Cruz

Columbian Style Swing Latino

2008-11-25T17:41:00.003+05:30

Columbian Style Swing Latino

Zouk

2008-11-24T17:56:00.000+05:30

Zouk

2008-11-23T17:53:00.000+05:30

Zouk

3rd World Salsa Championship Swing Latino Tigo 2007

2008-11-20T17:39:00.001+05:30

3rd World Salsa Championship Swing Latino Tigo 2007

Sexy Bachata

2008-11-16T17:42:00.001+05:30

Sexy Bachata

10 reasons why not to shave armpits.

2008-11-16T13:39:00.003+05:30

With so much undergrowth it becomes messy and uncomfortable if not unhygenic to say the least. So it calls for a shave.

Once it done, the torture starts.

1) It is not really a place where it is comfortable to shave. It takes practice, is an art and puts one in all kind of funny positions to get the right angle.

2) The after shave hurts and pinches alot. Feels like as if someone has squeezed the guts out.

3) If that is not all, the deodorant is also not even comforting. Feels as if someone has poured alcohol over a cut.

4) After the natural calamity in pit, when the spring arrives and the growth starts, they kind of itch and many a times it ends up in one scratching that itch in the pit. Gruesome.

This not a FAQ, so fill the rest 6 all by yourself.

The Wrong side or the right side?

2008-09-12T21:14:00.002+05:30

What is right or what is wrong? The answer is random. It really depends on what a person thinks, which in turn is governed by the upbringing and the people she/he has be surrounded with.

What we perceive as correct is what we see everybody doing around us. What ever they do not do is what we perceive as wrong. If we are instructed to do something and are told that it is correct, even though everybody else does the exact opposite, we kind of hear it in utter disbelief and never do that.

A very good example is what I always find on the roads and yet again today.

The road has three lanes, right most for overtaking, leftmost for the slowest and the middle one for usual. That piece of road is called the Inner Ring Road, a 4 kms of beautifully, evenly paved road; so I speed up.

As I am riding, zipping past the traffic, there is this guy riding slow enough to slow down the traffic behind him. I am on his right and honk, "I am about to pass". The gentleman cooly looks over his left shoulder and moves to the right.

Damn!

Screech. Brake. Brake harder.

I move to his left and pass him, giving him one really furious, "Condemn you to hell" look, which incidentally I am so sure from behind my helmet is not visible to anybody else.

How many times does that person ride on the road? Given the old make of the motorcycle, I guess almost everyday. For how many years, well many. But still why this odd out of place judgement?

Well, that is what he learnt from his parents, that is what he sees around him, that is what his friends do, that is what people around him do. So he probably believed that this is the right thing; even though what he did was grossly wrong.

And how many times would the same thing have happened to him? Man y a times and he still does that?

Well, if you happen to read this, just don't take right as right and wrong and wrong, use your brain to think, judge for yourself. Learn from around you and make your judgements and keep revisiting them.

Rain and rain coat

2008-09-07T18:23:00.003+05:30

For last 4 years, ever since I bought my motorcycle, I have been a lazy fellow; one of the laziest in the world if not the most.

The city where I live, it rains and it rains as if there is no tomorrow. The worst part of the whole rain thing is that it rains whenever it is time to leave for office or time to go back home after a long day.

For past so many years, every year the same story used to repeat. Whenever I was about to leave it was raining or it would start raining; and every time I used to get drenched. Dripping wet!

So this time I thought it is time to shun this laziness and get proactive. Proactive, after getting drenched for like 5 days in a row and no, the precursor was not the act of getting wet 5 days in a row, but the fact that I do not have those many pairs of shoes. After 5 days, all of the 4 pairs that I have were wet and I didn't have anything to wear to office other than the bathroom slippers. I was so much wet, wet to the soul. Even now I am waiting to find that person who said, "Fire cannot burn it, water cannot wet it, weapons cannot pierce it... " Crap find me that man and I will put him in this rain and ask him, "Kyon, bachoo? Ab aatma bheegi ki nahin?"

So the coming weekend I went to nearest store to buy a raincoat. Interestingly, everybody in the city thought that the day was good to visit the store. There were more souls in the store than the number of items on display or ready to be sold. With nobody to assist, it took me 20 minutes to find the right place to look for raincoats.

I bought a decent one and came back home, smiling. No more getting wet. No more stopping on the way under a tree, no more of this rain.

And ever since that day, it hasn't rained! One day it was drizzling and I thought it to be right time to wear the rain coat and leave in the rain. By the time I could get my stuff and get my motorcycle out of the parking it has stopped raining.

The other day, bright sunny day, no rain for like miles, I went out without my rain coat and it started drizzling. Luckily I was at home before it started pouring.

What use is a raincoat when it doesn't rain!

Now I know. If you have to stop rain in Gorakhpur, Kosi, let me go there with my rain coat. If you want it to pour in Thar desert or Sahara, let me go there without my rain coat.

I sometimes feel I kind to glue this rain coat to my skin, and I walk in the rain, it will stop raining, just where I am. Like a cylinder of dryness, right in between the falling drops of rain.

I don't know who is the nemesis of Bhagwan Indra, but for some reasons I believe that she/he is with me in the form of my raincoat.

Office Time... Merry Time... KSN770

2008-08-03T23:12:00.006+05:30

Have been terribly busy with the office last few weeks. The run up to Oshkosh was tiring, exhausting and fun.

The Bendix/King, the KSN770:

Have look here of what we made:

Suaad Gadhban

2008-07-22T08:01:00.001+05:30

Monchy y Alexandra

2008-07-19T07:57:00.004+05:30

No Es una novela
.

.

Awesome dance...

2008-05-07T21:55:00.001+05:30

Awesome moonwalking...

MJ Dance Audition with a Twist - The funniest home videos are here

Wow!

2008-05-04T21:12:00.001+05:30

What an answer!

2008-05-04T21:09:00.001+05:30

Miss Teen USA 2007 - South Carolina

And I now know the reason why!

Pin Pon ...

2008-04-24T22:21:00.000+05:30

Funny LOL

Bachata

2008-03-17T23:20:00.000+05:30

I would love to dance like that someday...

The mom's delight to kid's plight

2008-03-15T12:44:00.005+05:30

.
Well we have seen it all in the movies and the advertisements on the TV. I sometimes feel that it is all because of that idiot box. Probably that's the reason why I still do not have that one at home!

It is all over the place; the movies like Because I said so, the matrimony website advert where the dad runs, with the groom's turban in his hand, after every guy he sees , and so many others of the kind.

I graduated from the college with not so high flying colors and finished my PGDIT. My director always referred to it as M.Tech, all the time clapping his hands. Those who were present there will know what I mean to say. Anyways, that was in 2004. It has been 4 years since.

Given the age that most people complete there masters you can do the math, whatever.

So, where was I?

Yeah. Now that I have been in the job for 4 years, I truly qualify as an eligible bachelor. At least everybody else feels so, if not me. My neighbors at home for certain. "He is educated, earns well and is till not married!. There must be something wrong with him!". I guess that is what driving my parents bonkers. Why don't the old women of the neighborhood have any thing better to do than to talk about why somebody is married, why somebody isn't and why somebody's daughter/son eloped with somebody else.

Well I understand the pressure that my parents would be going through. Even though those who talk, seldom look at their own household and those who don't know the reality, that things take their own merry time to happen, even marriage. But public hai....

So, this Saturday, while I was cooking something for my lunch, Rajma masala and rice, I got a call from my mother.

Who is this girl XYZ (name changed).

Well she is so and so.

She mailed me. How did she get my e-mail address and that too the official one.

Mom! how am I supposed to know. Google around and you'd find that your e-mail address is listed in so many place. Anyways what did she write about. But I still do not know why would she e-mail you. We worked together like 3 years ago.

The mail talks about an invitation to ABC.com (website name change). that was in fact a professional networking site.

Oh! You can safely delete that e-mail. And I explained what that was all about.

Ok. But I did visit that website. The girl looks good and is Assistant Manger. To my scientist mother that was a very educated girl in a good profession and in a good company. Well here, in this part of the world, the word manager certainly rings bells and for sure event the fused light bulbs also become very radiant, and what we have here, she is a mega watts of search light.

Mom! Come on.

Well the snap of you and your friend wasn't that sharp and good, and this one looked like her. So I just thought if she is the one, she looks good and lets talk about it!

Mom, she is not the one whose picture you saw. And I don't want to talk about her. And if this how you will talk about all my friends one by one, then I will stop telling you about my friends.

Nah! It is not like what you think. I just thought if you have somebody in mind, lets talk about her!

Ma, if I really did have any, I would have told you and dad about it a long time ago.

As you say. But I did see her profile there.

Ma, that profile will tell you nothing about what you are looking for, that a professional networking site.

But you can find a lot about a person, can't you?

And then the conversation enters that never ending circle, where you have to say, "Oh my God! The rice is on fire, I better go and take care of my lunch!"

But keep your eyes open!

I love you mum. :)

Virgin Airlines...

2008-03-15T12:08:00.002+05:30

As I read my Sunday newspaper, the Times Business/Leadership Series, the article on Sir Richard Branson, I couldn't help laughing head over heels.

What was it?

Well the article they wrote about this an Australian stand-up comedian, an excerpt from the article:
" How can you call and airline Virgin. It's terrifying. .... I want to call my airlines Slut!"

Well come to think of it, it is indeed funny.

But strange it is indeed. Lesbian as well hetero! ROTFL.

Sneha Kapoor

2008-03-08T18:11:00.001+05:30

How can God be so ;cruel, sometimes and so many times. The only saving grace that He has is the while being cruel He has and shows some signs of sympathy and good.

Sneha Kapoor. She is one of the best Salsa dancers I have seen over here in Bangalore; and it wouldn't be wrong if I said one of the best in India. You can argue my opinion, no issues with that.

So much has changed in the last 2 weeks. I remember just this last Saturday we had a party at Ugly Duckling (on Miller's Road). We were having loads of fun dancing all the time. She in particular, being a professional Salsera, was enjoying every bit of the moment. Following perfectly the leads of good dancers on the floor as well as the novice ones.

The petite lady, with her contagious laugh was making the whole place very lively.

Today I heard that she had met with an accident. The bone of one of her legs is broken into three. The doctors have to insert a rod and clip the bone to it. It would take her a year and a half for her to recover. The other leg also has a fracture and it would take six months to recover.

Meaning no dancing, something that she so very much enjoyed, for next year and half. Richard Tholoor, her partner, was all tears when he told us. The excitement of the class vanished in thin air. Suddenly the whole atmosphere of the class was gloomy. There wasn't that excitement, that eagerness to practice the shines. But as they say the show must go on and so we started. The awkward way we did the shines at least brought some smile on Richard's face.

Poor Sneha, what wrong had she done?

I for one and all, pray to the almighty that she recovers much faster and comes back with all the vigor and enthusiasm that she has.

We wish you luck and speedy recovery Sneha.

For those who are still wondering who is she, watch the two videos (or google).

1. World Salsa Championships 2007 - Cabaret - Richard and Sneha -

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2. Richard and Sneha salsa at MSF (Mumbai Salsa festival) 2007

2008-02-10T23:03:00.000+05:30

Amazing...
Torso so there and legs where all!

Can we slow it dowon please!

2008-02-03T18:52:00.000+05:30

Watch the Columbians move. Those are feet, real feet!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxh47GDvcRI

Lived Good, Died Well!

2008-02-03T18:12:00.000+05:30

I wrote my tests for the Spanish classes I have been taking for a while.

What happened??

Well lived good during the class;
Died well in the exam!

I need for shoulders for the rituals!

Hasta luego!

And the Pheonix rises from its ashes, Examen parte 2 en sabado. :)

Cliente goes to travel agent to buy train/bus tickets in advance.

2008-01-18T18:24:00.000+05:30

T.A: ! Hola Senor! Bienvenido. ¿Como esta?

Cliente: Bien gracias.

T.A: ¿ que desea?

C: Voy a viajar a India del sur. Necesito reservaciones.

T.A: ¿Donde vija en India?

C: Voy chennai y coimbatore. Viajo en tren de Bangalore a chennai y en autobus de chennai. A coimbatore y en avion vuelta a bangalore.

T.A: ¿Cuando va de bangalore a chennai?

C: Hoy siete de diciembre, voy a chennai once de diciembre.

T.A: Bien. ¿Que tipos de reservacion, quiere con aire acondiciaonado y para cuantos persona?

C: Quiero reservaciones con aire acon para cuatro personas. Mi esposa, dos ninos y yo.

T.A: ¿ Necesita las reservaciones a la manana, a la tarde o a la noche?

C: A la noche por favor.

T.A: Aqui estan los formularios de reservaciones. ¿Que tipo de autobuses de chennai a coimbatore. ¿Cuanto personas?

C: A coimbatore viajamos en automus comum. Catorce de Diciembre. Si, cuatro personas.

T.A: Si. ¿Cuando de coimbatore a bangalore?

C: A noche del quience de Diciembre.

T.A: Pero hay vuelo solamente. Esta en la tarde.

C: Entonces, van a viajar a la tarde el dieciseis de Diciembre.

T.A: Si, La cantidad total para las reservaciones esta es 23760.

C: Esta bien,

T.A: Aqui estan sus boletos

Guest and a waiter in a restaurant

2008-01-14T18:23:00.000+05:30

Titulo: Un Mozo u una cliente en una restaurante.

Mozo: ¡Hola! Buenas tardes. ¿Como esta senor?

Cliente: ¡Hola! Estoy bien. Gracias.

M: Bienvenido al restaurante “Casa del Sol”.

C: Quiero una mesa para dos personas.

M: Si senor. Aqui esta la carta de vinos. ¿Que desea tomar.?

C: una cerveza, por favor.

M: Esta bien. ¿Quiere algun aperitivo con la cerveza?

C: No. Gracias.

M: Aqui esta la cerveza.

C: Senor, la cerveza no esta fria.

M: Perdon senor, no tenemos refrigadora.

C: ¿Que? Que tipo de retaurante es este? Puede traer la cerveza de otro restaurante por favor.

M: Si senor, pero todos los restaurantes estan cerrados. Tenemos agua y paps solamente.

C: No quiero nada.

M: Perdon senor. Hasta luego.

Description of a photograph

2008-01-10T18:22:00.000+05:30

La fotografia tiene sies hombres y tres ninos. Todos los hombres y los ninos stan en una habitacion. La habitaciones oscura. Hay dos ¿? En la habitacion. Un nino tiene pantalones. El hombre viejo. La silla es blanca. El suelo de la habitacion es amarillo. Un honre tiene a oteo honre en su la espelda. Hay zapotas en la habitacion tambien. Todos Hombres tienen barba.

Description of a photograph

2008-01-07T18:21:00.000+05:30

La fotografia esta llena color. Hay mucha gente un pero y muchos edificios. Hay una escalera tambien. El edificio a la derecha es balnco. El edificio tiene cuarto ventanas. Los edificios a la izquierda son templos. Hay hombres sentados en la escalera. El pero estar sentado tambien. Hay una cadaver. Hay una sabana amarilla sobre el cadaver. Los edificos encima de la escalera son grandes. Hay poca gente en los edificios. Las paredes son marrones. La pared alderedos es amarillo y rojo. Le puerta es hermosa. Un hombre en escalera estudia. Todos ellos estan vestidos con sueter. Por que el clima es frio. La senora a delante estar vestido con un abrigo. El abrigo es rojo. Ella esta feliz. Tiene una marca en la frente.

Festival

2008-01-05T18:20:00.000+05:30

Diwali es la fiesta de las luces. Celebro la fiesta en Hyderabad. Celebro con mi familia. Mi madre y mi padre viajan a hyderabad. Mis hermosa, mi cunado y mis sobrinos estan en hyderabad tambien. Hay muchas casas en el edificio. Hay mucha gente en el edificio. Disfruto la fiesta por que mu familia esta en hyderabad. Mi sobrino es muy travieso y jugetos. El es hablador pero mi sobrina es no habladora. Ella es amable. Tiramos muchos fuegos artificiales. Hay bombas y cohetes. Me gusta el olor de los fuegos artificiales. La fiesta esta bien por que hay mucha gente. Cocinamos juntos y charlamos. Comemos y bebemos toda la nocha.

Professions

2008-01-02T18:49:00.000+05:30

Escribo los sistemas del aeroplano. Planeo todos las sistemas. Los sistemas estan en la cabina. Todos los sistemas son sistemas necesarios. El sistema pricipal es control de motor. El sistema evita problemas de motor. Las companias compran los sistemas. Todos los sistemas es costoso.

Lider

2007-12-31T18:47:00.000+05:30

El es lider bueno. El es el primer ministro de India. Su madre es una lider famosa. A el le gusta volar aeroplanos. El es inteligente. Nos gusta el lider. Vive con su hija y ek hijo. Estudia en la universidad de Cambridge. Su esposa es de Italia. Ella estudia con el en la universidad. Ella es hermosa. Ella no habla hindi. Habla Italiano. Su nombre es Rajiv Gandhi. El escribe un libro. El planea y evita problemas.

Filetered Vision, filetered logic

2007-09-27T13:35:00.000+05:30

The DMK warlord Karunanidhi is an idiot, and it needs no more advertisement for he modeled it all for himself. You don't sit in the lap of you mother and then call her a whore. This is exactly what he did. Who is Ram?Which IIT did he or his engineers go to make that Ram Sethu?

Perhaps he should have had been thankful to the people extolled in our religion or mythology (what many people prefer to call it). If not for these great people, leaders by example, who have taught us the art of patience and forgiveness, he would have been tied to a tree trunk and set afire for his blasphemy. Well we are not like him. We are people who have what we call as brains, not accidentally which Karnuanidhi and many others of his like call and have, if any, for sure, and we use it to think logically and not take everything as it is presented and are not mere fanatics. So we forgive him and he keeps on ranting his jingoistic tunes.

And then there is this group of mahants in Allahabad, Varanasi who have put forth a religious edict for rewarding anybody who brings him Karunanidhi's head. Like begets like. But certainly another fall to correct a fall is not advisable. If we ask for heads so often then we'd be left with many headless torsos and also we are not one of 'those' for whom claiming somebody's head is as routine as say breathing.

But what was surprising in this whole episode was that some people went up in arms against this diktat. If I am not wrong, they said something like we are democracy, nobody can issue such a diktat Plenty of legal cases started in the already overloaded courts.

Where were these people, where were their infallible beliefs in democracy, the whole setup, when somebody asked of the head of the Danish cartoonist, or for Salman Khan to do community service, or when this one lady was asked to marry her father-in-law because the bastard-in-law had raped here and so she was now her husband's mother!!

Termites on any civilization.

Scratch where they feel necessary and meets their own ends. Why don't you guys just simply die or waste away to a horrible death.

I heard Diwali is round the corner. Isn't it time an unknown, a nobody dons the garb of Ram, kills the beast and we celebrate the home coming?

Cry of a famished soul

2007-09-20T17:04:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: This work is purely, to the extent a pure can be pure (like pure Ghee), a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person dead or leaving (Oops! living), any event or place is purely incidental.

I am hungry, famished and starved to be true. Haven't eaten anything since last night, well never actually had breakfast in a long time. It is 12:30 pm and I head for the cafeteria. Okay kind of food, doesn't titillate the taste buds to any extent and has the look of being hygienic.

Now given the fact that India is a 1 billion plus democracy and by the time you read this must be a trillion plus democracy, not discounting the illegal immigrants and those came on visa but lost or missing Pakistanis, crowd is expected everywhere anywhere much before you can expect a molecule of oxygen.

So there's a queue and I simply tag along the tail. Fortunately not many are hungry at this time.

There are just a handful of people before me, shouldn't be long before I can serve myself a belly filling quantity of whatever is on menu today. Taking a big shot, may be.

There is this bunch of ladies ahead of me. Gossiping, a no great guess given their laugh and intermittent "Oh! is it?" "How nice" and all that stuff. There is this gentleman standing in the queue with no acquaintance close by, bidding his time to get a plate for himself. There is this another person happily talking to somebody on the phone.

So here is how the story goes on when people actually reach the point where they can serve themselves something to eat.

1. The gentleman on phone. With the mobile phone safely ensconced between his shoulder and the ear, he picks up the plate, the spoon. but forgets to take the chapatti. Comes back after like half of two seconds, realizing that something is missing is from his plate. A Sheepish smile to the person standing behind him.

2. The guy who was standing all alone, takes half a spoon full of veggie. Takes a moment to think, decides he needs more so he takes a quarter full of spoon and serves more. Still he needs some more, so he serves himself one single instance of that on single identifiable vegetable is that potpourri of vegetables. Same goes for almost all of the things on the menu. Indecisive, or weak in estimation.

3. The ladies of course.
Lady 1: While serving herself a chapatti "Well did you know, yesterday,...."
Others make a funny face and fake a laugh. The one at the last is confused as to how many tissue papers she's need. The one before is busy cleaning every square millimeter of surface on the spoon, the plate and all the utensils thinking the tissue papers are more clean.
Lady 2: Serves herself the veggie, stops, and joins in, "But...." A little more chat when they realize people behind are almost red-faced.

Without warning there is this guy who join in the middle "Excuse me! and serves himself world full of veggies, bucket full of yogurt, pockets full of salad" and is gone before you can "What the *uck do you think you are doing? Jumping in the middle of a queue (well at least in name. Didn't your parent ever taught you some manners or the concept of the queue? Didn't you ever understand the difference in being satiated and over eating? Haven't you ever heard of the saying 'Do to other what you'd like other do to you'."

All this while, I was standing with my cheeks pulled in deep in my skull, my stomach sucked in back all the way towards my spine, I legs have no energy to hold me up. I crumple on the floor, cannot make a sound.

Somebody just stepped over me to get his share of food.

Dogs of God.

2007-09-16T16:45:00.000+05:30

I am very much a religious person. I believe in the institution of religion and the faith. But then I cannot understand the fanatics of religion.

Every day of festivity and celebration is a tool in hands of these kind of jerks who make the life of others miserable.

Ganesh Chaturthi came again.

And everything was back to square one.

The length of the access road to my house is just a couple of meters less than a kilometer. Never would have had imagined the enormity of this 1 kilometer, if not for these days. There are 5 pandals which have idols of Ganesh in them. The first person is an ardent follower of the Elephant-head-God and wants the other to know and understand how feverishly he worships the God. The second, person, not to be bogged down by the intensity of the first person’s worship, makes his offerings, chanting of hyms all the more loud and audible. Well the fifth one cannot go beyond the maximum volume the speakers available in the neighborhood can give. Poor chap doesn’t have much of an upper hand.

Also, there is this procession on the road. The traffic policemen have cordoned off the road. If is peak time in the evening, people are returning from offices, some leaving for offices, all the vehicles that were at some time parked are now on the road. The traffic piles up for kilometers; the procession is the fastest to move, rather the only thing moving. The devotees in the procession light fire crackers, who cares if it hurts anybody, God will take care if he wants to and the injured deserved the care. The drums, the loud Bollywood music, did Ganesh ever fancy the Bollywood music especially ‘Aashiq banaya aapne…”. God knows.

And petty mortals like me wait, asphyxiating in the smoke of fire crackers, shove the silencer of the tractor into me ears, pull out my eyeballs and squash it on the road, chew off my own tongue and do what not, apart from holding that urge to take a piss.

And what do others like me do, just pray that either these kind of people go and meet their God before the next year’s Ganesh Chaturthi or the God puts some sense into these nonsense and make them understand worshiping is not about disturbing others.

Key Take away: Whenever you know there is high probability of traffic jam which nobody knows when it will clear, always wear a diaper.

The Spineless creature

2007-09-13T13:30:00.000+05:30

This was long due and it had had this coming. This thing doesn’t have any values, shows no sign of being fair, is totally unpredictable but fairly predictable as it arrives every time at the wrong time; a totally spine less being, if we can call it a being, or else, refer it to as a totally spine less ‘X’.

What is that it here? What else the rain.

Yesterday was a horrible day. I was in office until 6 O’clock in the morning fighting the last minute battle, which incidentally started at 7 in the evening the previous day, to fix up a demo for a visiting dignitary. I went back home, took a short nap before the pangs of hunger could wake me up and turn me into a gobble-everything- type monster. Since it was bright and sunny, a must for Ray-Ban kind of day, I didn’t put on my rain proof jacket and was back in my cubicle.

Now the hell is let loose. 4’O clock the bright day suddenly puts on a dark cloak and turns to night. Dark, really dark clouds hover, strong gusts of wind and it starts pouring. Pouring like anything, like there no another chance to pour, this is the only time, the last time, show your might kind of pour.

And Bangalore, Bangalore that it is, where even a leaking pipe causes a traffic jam this was just too much. The traffic comes to a stand still, as if the director of this whole play called "living life on earth" hits the pause control.

Bad, I wanted to leave early and it doesn’t look like I will ever reach home. So I decide to stay back, so some petty job and kill time till the rain rain go away nursery rhyme bears fruits. 9’O Clock, the clouds seemed to have cleared, or it looked so, and I decided to leave for home. I walk to the parking lot, cool breeze flowing, an awesome moment. The moment I kick start the bike it starts to drizzle. Light drizzle or not, it really doesn’t matter much when you have to travel 13 odd kilometers for reach home and especially if you have breathed life to you bike, there are remote chances, if any of turning back.

You speed, you brake, flash head-lights, honk horns, zigzag between the drops of rain or at least try to do so. And you reach home; drenched, from head to toe. The vest sticks to your torso, the jeans feels heavy, the shoes are more like buckets full of water, the only thing wearable is your resolve to reach home. And you reach home.

You open the gate, and the rain stops. Just like that, all of a sudden, just dropped dead, as if the municipality shut down its water supply, as if it was tired, as if its purpose was fulfilled, as if the revenge was taken, as if the non existent day after today suddenly was visible

I was ambushed, tortured, singularly massacred, chopped to pieces, and fed to rats, the left over left to rot.

Call it timing or lack of it. Call it being unpredictability or being predictable but just at the wrong moments, call it fair or call it unfair, but this is how this lousy thing is.

I am a believer and a God fearing person, but then to retain that devotion, belief, fear I need some confirmation some support some sign of being-ness from the other. Why does it have to rain like cats and dogs here, why does it have to rain so heavily in the upper regions of Ganga and Brahmaputra, why does it have to rain so much that there are floods every year in these regions? Why can’t it rain like this in Rajasthan or Sahara or say North Karnataka?

If the Gods haven’t learned anything till now, I have good reasons to believe that will not learn it in near future; say another few thousand zillion millenniums. If it was up to me, the rain God, Indra better not cross my path.

Salsa your way to fun ...

2007-08-21T20:04:00.000+05:30

Been too busy off late.

Juggling time between practice, office, practice and parties. And on last Saturday and Sunday it was the big show, performance, workshops and also the competition.

What practice, what performance.

Well we had our annual India International Salsa Congress.

Will write in detail about it in the next post when I am done with all that fatigue and sudden lull after those awesome parties, wonderful and exciting workshops.

To let you savor the moment:

Well we didn't win any prize, just got the participant cup. We were offbeat off and on during the entire song that was played. We lost, no surprise, but our stage presence was good and appreciated. That is the reason why probably we are just in the photo but not in the text. :)

At this point I thank my partner Vandana for bearing me for the practice sessions and surviving the disappointment. Sorry Vandana we lost, I ,for many a times, couldn't find a fix that bloody 1.

We will try next year!

We had plenty of international instructors:

Eddie, the Salsa Freak
Knzo
Rozana Maya
Maria Del Sol
Ricardo and Vivianna
Junior and Emily
The fabulous Swing Guys
Dave Paris and Zoe Klein
Akhila Venkatesh
Alex Diaz
Ara Hwang
Katherine Wilson
Deepak and Hazel
Katyee Namgyal
DJ Joseph Enin
DJ Gataloca
Anup Thomas
Richard Tholoor and Sneha Kapoor
Ashwin Mushran

It was a fun event and I eagerly wait for it to happen next. Just with the time flies in fast forward.

.

Foot in Mouth Disease.

2007-07-29T17:02:00.000+05:30

"Welcome on board Sir"
"Yeah Hi. Thank you"
"What is you seat number Sir"
"Hmmm... (Flipping the boarding pass) It's 13A."
"That would be towards your left Sir."
"Yeah Sure. Thanks"

She is standing there, holding a pillow to her chest. Ear to ear smile, lots of mascara and other stuff. Eyes gleaming with all the hospitality that can ever exist in a pair of eyes.

"Welcome Sir."
Nod in approval.

"Amm! You have a yellow spot on your shirt (points towards his left shoulder). You might have spilled something on it; pickle or something with turmeric maybe." Looking at her expecting probably a thank you.

Change of expression to a bad one.
Change of expression again to a good one.
"Oh this (removing that pillow)! This is our logo (SpiceJet)."

Damn why did I not notice this before? Was it necessary to be my usual self? What a noble git I am!
Sheepish Smile. "I am sorry I didn't notice this before, first time with Spice"
"Well that fine Sir. Which seat Sir."
"Well I guess you will have to move. Mine is 13 A."
All smiles. "Oh Yes, this is 13A. Sure Sir."

Okay this doesn't happen that often.

An emergency for just that one time!

2007-07-25T14:29:00.000+05:30

I am not a sadist. No never been a masochist; never been in the likes of those like Al-Quieda.

But then sometimes, like those times when you get thoughts, because your dreams weigh down upon you, the aspiration for that one moment where you could do that one thing which in usual way of the world you wouldn’t be allowed to do, that one moment of being everybody’s hero; for that one chance of being that one being who could twitch that muscle just when needed never more; and so many of those other just one times.

So it wasn’t usual.

I boarded my flight from Bangalore to Hyderabad. I always take the window seat. The excitement when you can hear the roar of the engines when the pilot puts the thrust to 100% or when the flaps and slats deploy or when the air brakes are deployed is just too big to explain in words; and also that there are just too many people wanting to visit the loo when the whole flight time is itself 45 minutes.

So when I was given my seat though it really didn’t make much of a difference on the boarding pass, but in the aircraft it made all the difference in the world that it could ever make. The seat was as usual a window sear but also happened to be next to the emergency exits on the wings. Now that is a very good place to sit and fly. The seats here provide with the most real estate when it comes to leg room.

So as the Captain welcomed us on-board one of the cabin crew members approached us to explain how to open the emergency exits and that if we feel that we are not competent or comfortable in doing it we can ask for a change in seat. But all these instructions to open the emergency exit came with a rider “DO NOT TOUCH THEM UNLESS THE CABIN CREW YELLS AT YOU FOR DOING SO”. Message registered.

I then so badly wanted some kind of an emergency to happen so that I can just for once operate that.

It is not that simple. The urge to just for once open that emergency door, throw it, let the slides deploy and jump to slide on it. Well not a very noble, “And for the world piece” (hmm sorry peace) kind of a thought. I cannot agree no more. But I never want it to go into an emergency while in flight that is catastrophic. What I really wanted is like, when we touch the tarmac, the main exits would for some reason be jammed and fail to open, for some strange reason the cabin pressurization system would fail, or the lights would go off, something like a failure of Level C software on board. It is an emergency in the sense that the emergency exits have to be opened but at the same time is not catastrophic. No one needs to die. No one even really needs to cry too. All for the sake of that just one time opportunity!

The deam Interview

2007-07-17T16:54:00.000+05:30

No matter how many years one has had been in the industry, no matter how many interviews he/she has braved, no matter how many interviews he/she has had taken; it still is a war of that one last breath of peace when it comes to giving an interview.

One of my acquaintances recently had to attend an interview and he had more than 10 years of experience. So when I was visiting him last week, I had to mock the interview panel as questions for his preparation. And all this time during the mock interview he was with his two year old son, trying make him sleep. Well that the best way to prepare for an interview while being under extreme stress. If you can live this you can survive any!

Now that he is geologist and the only thing I know about geology is the way it is spelled most of my questions were “What are your X strengths and weaknesses? Why do you think we should hire you? What makes you stand out from the other N people who have applied?”

More of the HR kind of questions; the only technical question I could ask was “What were your key learnings from the last job? What was the thing in the last job that you think were big, challenging both technically and resource wise and how did you solve then?”

Now that was something. Having been trained in “Interviewing skills” and “Enhanced interviewing skills” and given that I haven’t selected any of the candidates in so many interviews I have taken, and recommending background check for almost all the panel recommended for the next round of interview, I had my own comments on the answers.

Don’t say or stress on “I and hardworking, sincere. Blah Blah. These are all universal truths from any interview candidate. Try to build on your experience, how this varied experience makes you stand out from the crowd. Whatever your weaknesses, they should be the ones on which can work upon and if not then either you should not tell them or mask them as the ones which also work as your strengths.”

So the organization where he had the interview was the one in which his father had worked from the first day to the last day of his entire career. So invariably everybody, the higher ups, in particular knew the candidate, and knew just no casually but personally.

When the day of interview came, the panel had people, who were known to him since childhood, were a distant relative, or had known his cousins. Now that is what I call as a perfect interview panel. Even before you are bombarded with questions you are already comfortable. One of the many must things taught to me in my trainings “Interviews are tests, and like all tests this too makes the candidate envious. Try to make the candidate comfortable. When the candidate is nervous he/she won’t give his best shot.”

Best shot. I think here the candidate was playing on his home ground in front of his home crowd.

So the interview started. “How is your mom? How is your father?” And then the technical questions started.

Now isn’t that a dream interview?? And a scary one too, all those people who know you so well will get an insight on how deep or shallow your understanding of the subject is?

Between the Dollar and the Rupee Tussle

2007-07-02T15:10:00.001+05:30

Okay so the Indian currency the Rupee hit an all time high against the overly popular and transacted US currency The Dollar.

While most of the news channels wreaked havoc on the TV with their 24 hour sympathies with the IT companies as appreciated rupee would mean lesser profits; the nicely suited gurus of stock market, who incidentally were never wise when I decided to take their advice prophesied the loss in share price of these major, minor, and still in incubator listed companies, I was already seeing the road ahead. Not the nicely tarred road ahead but the one with drain and rain water all over it which for some reason of perfection fails to hide some of those numerous potholes.

So I was visiting my friend who works in this big IT Company and was surprised to see that what I foresaw was actually not that far!

As the rupee appreciated:

- There was more water in the coffee decoction in the vending machine;

- There was more water in the milk in the vending machine;

- The all time available juices in the canteen disappeared;

- The floor temperature, which I was informed was usually comfortable 22 degrees, was not well beyond 24 degrees;

- Even the liquid soap in the restrooms had more liquid properties than water itself;

- The paper towels, the newer ones, have so much quality inbuilt into it that you cannot pull out one in one piece from the dispenser. The towel dispenser incidentally has “Eco Friendly” plastered on it. Yeah! Why cut trees, use that square inch of towel.

- The lifts, one overly gregarious person told me, are now mostly out of order.

Of all the things what is more worrisome is the coffee. I mean most of the IT guys when they reach office search for one thing, even before booting or logging into their systems, which is, what else, COFFEE!!!!

I am sure the ILO (International Labour Organization) has the right to perfect coffee as one of the basic rights of the IT employees which if you prioritize comes before equal opportunities.

Civilian and Fighter Aircrafts on Road.

2007-06-22T14:09:00.000+05:30

DISCLAIMER: This post is purely a fiction, any resemblance to dead or living is purely incidental. No offence meant to any lady or any man.

I have been living with aircrafts both at home and at my office; and I just so much love them.

The place where I live, my house actually a rented place, is very close to the city airport. Another big thing close by is the wind tunnel operated by National Aerospace Laboratory.

My work involves aircrafts too.

I love watching there giants of steel, these behemoths take to sky so easily and land on the landing strip so effortlessly. It is an amazing synched dance of man, metal and machine.

The brain of all the electronics, the effectiveness of all the machinery and the intelligence of the pilot, all with one motive to take to sky and be back all safe and comfortable.

I many a times find myself standing next to the airport boundary wall, with my mouth wide open amazed at the way an aircraft comes to taxiway, moves on the tarmac, and just like a bullet from a gun, shoots on the tarmac. The flaps are all down, the thunderous roar of the engines and as if the gravity fails for that just one split of seconds “Houston we have a lift off!” well take off actually. Sometimes I am lucky to see a MIG or a Jaguar put on its afterburner so that it can take off in the least distance and climb up fast and furious. The afterburners make their presence very much audible to people in atleast 3 Kms radius circle.

And not mention the wind tunnel which when active makes you feel as if there is a traffic jam on the landing strip and all the aircrafts are standing tail to tail, with their engines running waiting for that green signal, each one fighting for that one-upmanship for how loud one’s engines are. The whole neighborhood bears a look like wind has visited is visiting and will stay for quite some time.

“Kachik. Eagle 1 to base. Kachik”

“Kachik. Base to Eagle 1. Cleared to fly. Over Kachik”

“Kachik. Eagle 1 to base. Ok. Over Kachik”

“Kachik. Base to Eagle 1. Let us kick the tyre and light a fire. Good Hunting. Over. Kachik”

So now where does this lead to?

Well when you are obsessed about things, you kind of see them everywhere. And that is exactly what is happening to me. I see aircrafts or parts of it.

You must have had seen a lot many fair sex on two wheelers, zipping past on their Blaze, Scooty or Pleasure. What you might have also noticed but may not have had related is that whenever they slow down, like the needle on the speedometer touches sub 25 sub 30 Kmph levels, their landing gears come down. The gears are deployed unless the needle pulls up above this 20-30 mark. They will be deployed even if they travel like tens of kilometers at 15 Kmph.

As soon as the brakes are deployed, two legs come out from either side of the two wheeler, much like an aircrafts landing gear and stay on there. So if they stop the landing gears touch the tar, if not then they are still deployed as part of missed approach. Very much like a civilian aircrafts, safety foremost.

Guys on the other hand are like fighter jets. Vrooooom. Vroooooooooom. Honk Honk. Screech. Screech. The landing gears never come down until they are sure that they have to land. Just like fighters aircrafts which can skim the ground, fly as close as say 200-500 feet above the ground, guys will slow down and try to balance as long as they are allowed to and can manage. Their afterburner is their horn. Great maneuverability of zipping in left and right taking sharp turns just so very much like a fighter aircraft.

Glossary
Kachik : The sound made by pressing/releasing the TALK button of the wireless set.

The mosquito that never bites!

2007-06-14T15:35:00.000+05:30

It has been a while since this thing is happening to me.

For these last so many ‘whiles’ everybody who has seen me at office, or friends at home or the neighborhood have been saying “Hey what’s up? You look so lost. Is everything Okay?”

And I nod in agreement, trying to say in part that I am still trying to figure out the answer to “What’s up?” as also in agreement that everything is okay and they needn’t be concerned or worried about anything in particular. It is sometimes really strange that something as simple as a nod in agreement is enough to put smiles on just so many faces.

But nevertheless.

So as I was saying, though I nod, for whatever reasons I might do that, I really don’t feel like everything is okay. I am regular at my office, productive with quality, a gregarious friend who calls/meets the friends neighbors all so often, but then something is wrong.

There is this ‘something’ which is going at the back of my mind and the worst part to come is that I don’t what it is. Only if I can figure out what this is I will be able to find a way to solve it and get rid of it. But alas, I am unable to comprehend what is it that’s bothering me? It is there I know. Whenever I am doing something, it runs in the background, just outside the cone of focus and as soon as I realize that there is this something and try to focus on it, it disappears. Like a grain of sand, you don’t know it is in your fist, but the moment you realize it is there and try to contain it in your fist, you just loose it.

It is so annoying and so irritating. Much more irritating than that mosquito, who incidentally never bites you or maybe you really do not care or notice that mosquitoes ever bite you, but hovers around you ear with that “Bhiiiiiinnnnnnnn…….. Bhiiiiiinnnnnnnn……..” sound and the room is dark and you cannot squeeze the pulp out of him by grabbing in your first and tightening the embrace; and worst of you all you are very sleepy after a day’s long work!
Sometime I feel I am better off having this unhandled trace of thought running in background as a zombie than to try to fight that mosquito.

Mutual Screwing... I screw you... You screw me...

2007-06-05T16:51:00.000+05:30

It is a vicious circle; more of co-habitation because of lack of options rather than consensual.

And just why is it a circle? Well what goes around comes around. I screw you, you screw me, simple.

The only difference being that the ‘I’ here has the option of screwing this or that, one among the many (well in many cases one amongst atleast two). But the ‘You’ here does not have that choice of whom he/she/it might choose. There is there only instance of ‘I’ available here. So whose is the one who gets the pleasure or say pain of getting screwed every so often? No prizes for guessing the answer. It is the deplorable ‘I’ here.

Now you guys must be wondering who is the ‘I’ here and who is the ‘You’ here. The ‘I’ here is the crowd, the common people, the aam junta ( the mango people), who choose the ‘You’ here which are the politicians, the corporators, the bureaucrats, the local municipality etc. So you see the ‘I’ here has many options to select from and to who takes the seat, gaddi, of power and screw them. The ‘You’ doesn’t have that luxury hence the ‘I’ has dilated muscles and you know where.

By now I am sure you guys won’t leave me alone until I (this is the real me and not the ‘I’ here) tell you where does this whole theory comes from.

Take an example.

The citizens choose the government, let’s be limited to the local government. Then the citizens ask for improvement of basic infrastructure, basic amenities, parks, clean drinking water, decent walk able footpaths, trees on the sides of the road. Essentially screwing the government, making it do thing which are most likely on the lest priority list; they being busy with milching the citizens, the government machinery to get wot not, trying to do as many nonsensical gymnastics with the law, rules so as to make sure that they get an assured chance the next time they get to the polls.

So this in part explains the ‘I’ screw ‘You’.

Of the many ways the ‘I’ screws ‘You’ (leave the Kamsutra aside) let us focus on one "trees on the sides of the roads footpaths". Now it is the time for the ‘You’ come back and screw the ‘I’. So they plant the trees with the rusted tree guards to guard them when God only knows how long the guards themselves can live the beat of the weather. And just what do they plant? Coconut trees! The ‘I’ here is happy, takes comfort in the pleasure. But the pain follows not too late. The trees grow, the coconuts hang from the tree, ripe full with the coconut milk. Then one day an ‘I’ is on the footpath walking his/her way home, or to where he/she is heading to and BANG! There falls a coconut and the nut is split open in the two halves; both the coconut and the head of this ‘I’.

So this in part explains the ‘You’ screw ‘I’.

Many may argue, "statistics prove that the probability of a falling coconut hitting a person is as low as nothingth of nothing*". Well how many times do we really get to hear from a person explaining that the hump on this head is a result of a coconut falling on him; nothingth of nothing* times! Just because no crimes are logged with the police department does that really mean the area is crime free? Not really.

But then who am I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) to say anything. Both the ‘You’ and ‘I’ are happy and satiated. The max I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) can do is make sure I (the real I and not the ‘I’ here) choose the ‘You’ who can screw me in less number of ways or not screw to the ‘You’ and expect the same favor in return.

* Inspiration (Anu Malik's style) from Douglas Adams "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"

My, Myself, My Poems!!!

2007-06-01T19:33:00.000+05:30

woh hume tarka ke chal diye,
bole kaam hai jana hai.
hum intezaar main baithe hain ,
sadiyaan guzar gayin.
unki tasveer bhi dundhli ho gayi;
voh aayenge isi intezaar main hum,
apani baaki zindagi jee lenge.

Two friends, one father of a new born baby girl, one still single

beti ki sewa main raat aur din dono barabar!
woh uska raat main uthna,
madhur hi awaaz main kutch kahan
humara na sun pana
uska rona
beech raat mera main uthna
zombie ki tarah apne hi ghar main anjaan sa ghoomna
kisi tarah kitchen main pahunch kar doodh garam karna
Office se thake hue ghar aana
beti ko bahon me leke jaise sansaar ka sara sukh sara aanand paan

In sab ka mujhe intezaar hai

What wierd poems?

What wierd Poet?

Tera Khoon khoon, mera khoon pani!!!

2007-05-31T15:09:00.000+05:30

When I Take a long time to finish, I am slow,

When my boss takes a long time, he is thorough

When I don't do it, I am lazy,

When my boss does not do it, he is busy,

When I do something without being told, I am trying to be smart,

When my boss does the same, he takes the initiative,

When I please my boss, I am apple polishing,

When my boss pleases his boss, he is cooperating,

When I make a mistake, I' am an idiot.

When my boss makes a mistake, he's only human.

When I am out of the office, I am wondering around.

When my boss is out of the office, he's on business.

When I am on a day off sick, I am always sick.

When my boss is a day off sick, he must be very ill.

When I apply for leave, I must be going for an interview

When my boss applies for leave, it's because he's overworked

When I do good, my boss never remembers,

When I do wrong, he never forgets

I don't know why I feel guilty of spamming my own blog with a forward. :(

Words of Wisdom

2007-05-28T10:55:00.000+05:30

Fewer words of wisdom have been in said in lesser words:

Man proposes, God disposes; and either way the woman doesn't agree.

A bike … A mom…. A speedometer … BAM!

2007-05-21T19:35:00.000+05:30

No this story is not about a mom pillion riding with her daughter /son on her/his bike and hitting her/him whenever the speedometer needle tries to kiss the 60 Kmph mark.

No this story is not about a lady, somebody’s mom, riding a bike trying to meet a target on the speedometer dial.

This story is about a naïve young boy riding his bike.

So our hero is on his way back from a big mall, one of the most buzzing ones in the city. A mall where as many footsteps fall as there are air molecules in the incoming air.

It was 2 o’clock in the Sunday afternoon. Though there were many people in the mall the roads barely has a soul. With noone on the road, it was expected to be a good ride back home, a much needed break from the daily rush of traffic, those maddening sound of horns. Well a 38 degree Celsius temperature and that too on a Sunday is after all not all that inviting for people to venture out on the roads. The mall had a central air conditioning.

And true to his expectations the road was empty. It was a 4 lane road, a delight to ride, with a Moto Pre kind of chicane in its short life of just under 5 Kms, very right called Inner ring Road. He like it all the more as it allowed him to ride his bike without ever stepping on the brakes. He hated to use the brakes. All his braking was dine by absence of throttle. Good at estimating he used brakes only when he had to come to a complete stop.

With the music from his iPOD ringing in his ears, he upped the volume and kick started his bike. Just one more traffic signal and I’m off for the beauty and then on the beauty.

The throttle was pushed to limits, the wind roared past him. As he zipped past the lone cars, the percussion in his ears ebbed and gave way to a nice saxophone. An aircraft was approaching the nearby landing strip to land. The slim needle touched 60, kissed 80, hugged 100 and stretched for the 105. He knew it was all in the reach; of his, of his bike, of the speedometer needle and within the road’s.

He entered the chicane, an S shaped turn. He entered the first curve, a very smoothly and nicely executed turn. Stayed in the outermost lane all the way, never did he cross the white line; never did any body see his tail light glow. He hated to use the brakes.

A bike … A speedometer …

He entered the second curve which tightly followed the first curve. Switched on his indicator lights and moved on to the outermost lane. He liked that lane, gave him the opportunity to incline his bike as low as possible. Needles to say it was a well maneuvered turn.

Just as he was about to straighten up, there was a cow on the road in his lane.

Never ever had there been a cow on this stretch of the road; with too less time to react, he stepped hard on his read brake, pumped his front brake, simultaneously swerving to avoid the cow. But some distances are just too small.

BAM!! He hit the cow in her stomach. All the way he went from his seat and landed on his petrol tank. Must have had braked quite hard. He doesn’t remember what happened to the cow, the animal was trying to get up some 7 feet away.

He started his bike and went on.

Not a feeling.

Speed thrills but mostly kills.

We all have had read this somewhere, everywhere, though never understood in totality the meaning nor did we ever cared about it unless we have a near ‘kills’ experience.

Only if the cow could have known about this and had not been on the road, the animal would have had been much better.

Someone somewhere said “How disgusting! You hit a cow. Cow is like our mother.”

Another replied “Then keep you mom at home, why do you let her roam on the road like this?”

…. and hence the mom.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any person living or dead is incidental.

Wrong Maths.

2007-04-30T17:32:00.000+05:30

Somebody at Microsoft didn't do his Maths homework at school.

From Friend to Friend

2007-04-19T17:18:00.000+05:30

Ok So this is funny. And if it ain't funny to you tickle yourself. All the communication happens over e-mails.

Friend 1:

Spam mail (usually a forward) with plenty of e-mail IDs in the CC List. One of her friend is in the CC list.

Friend 2:

(Reply) Ok so now my turn to ask questions. Who are the following girls? Settled/engaged or available?

Friend 1:

Mote…. Kaam se kaam rakho :)

English Translation (The smiley too) :

Fatso…. Mind your business :)

Friend 2:

Vohi to kiya.
Aur mote kise kaha, you .. you... lady finger! Hugh.

English Translation (Note no smiley thsi time) :

That's what I did.
BTW whom did you call fatso, you .. you... lady finger! Hugh.

Lady finger??? probably out of ideas. Anyways

Friend 1:

Mote mote mote

English Translation (No smiley again)

Fatso fatso fatso

Friend 2:

Yeh tumne accha nahin kiya,
Yeh tumhe nahin karna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to ....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe panga nahin lena chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe aag main haath nahin dalna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe bail (bull) se nahin kahna tha aa mujhe maar,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe mujhe phone karne par majboor nahin karna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

Tumhe yeh nahin karna chahiye tha,
Tumhe phone par mujhe ladne ke liye majboor nahin karna chahiye tha,
Par ab kar chuki ho to....
Ab bhug-to

English Translation:

You lazy fellas, do something on your own. This is too long for me.

Family and Friends ...

2007-04-10T20:06:00.000+05:30

When the waves are high,
When the sea is rough.
Shed no tear,
Have no fear.
It is time to buckle up.
Be tough.
The sea wasn't calm always,
It just having fun,
Just for today.

Your family is the raft,
Your friends are the sail.
With this raft and sail,
You will not fail,
For sure you would sail.

But raft and sail know no sea,
They know no wave,

But Remember

Author: Can a poem have some chorus? Like Here ... Sure

Reeeemember. Buuuuuuuuttt
Rememmmmmberrrr
Know no sea, know no sea
Know no wave, know no wave
Family and friends, raft and sail
Family and friends, raft and sail
But Remember

They only know
To keep you afloat,
You know the sea,
You see the wave,
Call upon
Your family and friends,
'Cos they will save.
You know the sea,
You see the wave,

But you need to call,
And call you should.
They are high waves,
Not a high wave.
Call you should and
Call you must
Just whisper;
"I need you. Are you there?"

The big raft,
That huge sail.

Kids... One too many... One too less...

2007-04-05T15:14:00.000+05:30

I love kids. There are so many of them in my family and they are all dear to me. And so are the kids of my friends. They are the best beings to have around you. They give so much of a relaxing, rejuvenating feeling to anybody around them. No matter how much tired one is but as soon as there are kids around, you have tones of “Red Bull” in you. Their untiring series of “Whys, Whats, Hows” are one amazing thing.

But given all this, there are some things which are ….. well read on.

What is it? Why is it?

Scene 1, Take 1.

You are watching a very interesting movie, a very captivating documentary on NGC/Discovery. And it is time for their favorite cartoon, which has a stupid looking railway engine talking to other engines in the most unanimated way. Then there is this “Blues Clues” where an over excited grown kid of late 20s teaches what alphabets, shapes, colors are. If you insist on not switching the channel, there is wailing and if the kid is smart like my younger niece you get blackmailed "I’ll complain to grandpa". Since the kid doesn’t know or more likely will not change channel on his/her own, you have kill your curiosity/interest by your own hands and say "Ahhh! Okay."

Disclaimer: It another story that once you start watching these you too get a hang of it and start enjoying it for the sheer simplicity of these cartoons. After all "Tom and Jerry" is never boring.

Scene 1, Take 2.

That tricycle. That one tricycle. Why do they have to make is so small and so low. They could atleast have a bar which rises all way until say 3 feet so that you easily push it.

Kid wailing, kid sits in the tricycle, more of wailing at high pitch, cannot push tricycle, you push it, get a backache.

Scene 1, Take 3.

The kid knows you have a back ache, you are lying down on the bed trying to get some sense into that back. “Does it hurt?” Yes. “Is it bad?” No, don’t worry I’ll be okay. “Shall I give you massage?” That’s not necessary, thank you. “No you need one.”

And then you can feel the whole Roman army, with as many soldiers as there were in the entire lifetime of the civilization, march on you back not to mention the those so many hooves of cattle, horses and maybe sometimes elephants.

Back ache. Make a line shorter by drawing next to it a line linger that it. I am all right, “pink of health!”

Scene 1, Take 4.

“I’ll ask you a question? There was a brown house, next to it is the green house, behind it is the black house, in front of it is the pink house, and above it is the grey house. Tell me where is the white house.”

Hmmm…. Hmmmm. Pretending to think. Hey, there wasn’t a white house anywhere. Oh! Wait. Yeah, it is in Washington DC.

“Geee. You got it, now your turn.”

There were two friends Nobody and Anybody. Anybody had a cousin Somebody. Once Nobody calls Anybody:

Tring…. Tring…. (… yeah the joke goes with the sound
effects…)
“Hello”
“Hi, is Anybody home?”
“No”
“Who’s
this?”
“Somebody. Who’s
calling?”
“Nobody”
“Nobody!”
“Yeah. Well when Anybody comes let him know Somebody had called. Bye”

Haaaa….. Haaaa… Why are you not laughing?
I got all confused. What was the joke?
That was the joke my dear.

And you embrace the kid, hug her/him and both laugh.

Now these are those some things which are indispensable and I just so wish there were many kids around or may be the kids always stay as kids.

Not too much to wish I gues.

Twice in Day.

2007-03-28T17:02:00.000+05:30

Scene 1:

Post Lunch Session at office.

At the door of my floor.
Placed the Access Card close to the 'Sniffer', the drug addict.
No Beep, the LED doesn't glow green
Doesn't work. Placed it really close. Beep! LED is green.
Pushed the handle of the door and opened it.
Comes running a colleague, named rather nick-named 'Ram'.
Customary, rather more as routine given I know so many people.
"Hey Ram!"

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

Wanted to say it thrice and drop dead.

Scene 2:

10:00 pm Returning back from work.
Standing at an intersection, the traffic signal is red, "Oh! I have buy sugar morning's Horlicks was tasteless."
Parked my bike in front of the depratmental store close to my house.
Short stop, didn't take off the helmet, just lifted the visor.
At the counter, kept the bag of 1Kg sugar and the change.
The attendent gave the receipt, fetched a carry bag.
Stopped.
"Sir, are you on bike or a car?"
Wearing a sheepish look : "Car. As for the helmet I drive my car wearing the helmet. Extra Safety."

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

I should have had said it thrice and dropped dead. Too late now.

The Apple-Bush's iRack

2007-03-20T17:13:00.000+05:30

What has Apple (read Steve Jobs) and George Bush have in Store for all of us

http://www.glumbert.com/media/irack

It is OK

2007-03-08T18:13:00.002+05:30

Ok, so now it is official; allowed by the political brass and the religious clergy of all religions. No more debates on whether it should be allowed or not; no more haggling on how much sin it would be to go the way nature, and also God, most probably in the view of those who know more, never mandated one should go. The shows on Discovery and National Geography Channel have shown that this behavior is normal in all living beings, beings here were animals though and human beings are way above them.

Hooray! Now we can be and are permitted to be gay, gay not as in fun and gaiety, but gay as in “Someone who practices homosexuality; having a sexual attraction to persons of the same sex”.

But there’s a catch. We are not allowed to be ‘gay’ in our lives beyond the 8 hour office hours. We are allowed to be gay only in office and just why so? Well haven’t you heard of the word office spouse?

Now given that the sex ratio in general of the entire population inhabiting this country is a dismal low figure, the chances of you having a female office spouse is less, unless of course if you work in either Infosys, TCS or Wipro (no offence), who hoard all the females just as they are about to enter the world of working population, where your chances are bright.

It has been more than three years in my company and I have moved around 3 teams and how many females did I have in my team of be a straight guy at office and have ‘natural’ office spouse, none.

So it is finally bestowed upon all of us to be ‘gay’, gay as in fun and gaiety ...

... and I didn't miss that not there!

Reality after a Nightmare

2007-02-16T16:57:00.000+05:30

I saw him, my manager. He was standing in the corner sipping his hot cup of coffee. And yes that one cup of hot morning coffee can make your day.

As I pour myself a cup of coffee, I walk towards him.

"Good Morning. How was your morning?"

"Good. So how's life?"

"Till now life's treating me."

"Good."

"I want to go onsite for a long assignment."

"Why what happened suddenly? You are just back from you last trip. How many months since you came back?"

"Eight. If not a long assignment then short ones back to back would do."

"Talk to me."

"No its just that I want to buy some more stuff. You get it cheap over
there in US."

A loud laugh, "Is that the truth?"

"No. My parents are pushing me to get married."

There's no more coffee.

Vella-Time's Day

2007-02-15T15:26:00.000+05:30

Hey Fellas,

Hope you had a good "Vella-time's" Day.

Those who have girl-friends, are on the road.
Those who had girl-friends are out boozing
Those who never had girl-friends are glued to TV.

Why is the census so scary? Every year year over year...

Nightmares of a Bachelor

2007-02-13T17:51:00.000+05:30

It has been a wonderful day since morning and I look forward to it being the same way until its time to go to bed.

The ‘now’ is as good as it could ever be.

I am dancing with a lovely lady to the tunes of Salsa music; we both look into each other’s eyes enjoying the music, the dance and the company of each other.

Ah! There’s this cupboard on my right with its door wide open. The door has a glass on it, just like the so many 'glass covered wall panels', so that the entire dance floor looks like one huge room, where ever you see you see some reflection of something. It is good to have one, just in case if you do not enjoy dancing with your current partner or if he/she isn’t that good looking you can look/stare at so many others present.

Anyways, the door is wide open and there is every likelihood that my lady, in course of doing those multi spins, might bump into it and hurt herself and hurt herself real bad.

So I excuse myself, slide towards the door and close it.

The lady is happy and I am back on the dance floor. Through the dance I comb her hairs with my head, taking my hand from her forehead into her hairs to her neck adn over her shoulders, with her hand flowing my hand; not that she needs any combing but that it is a step in that combination, a way to unlock the hands.

“Oh My God!” she screamed.

She had looked at her reflection in one of those numerous not hard to find mirrors.

There was blood on the forehead, on her hairs, on her neck and on her shoulders. I panicked, “You are bleeding! Are you hurt?” While I talk and gesticulate, my palms faced the ceiling and she saw it.

There was a big gash on my right thumb, blood was flowing freely and while combing hairs I had accidentally smeared her forehead, her hairs, her neck and her shoulder with my blood.

While closing the door, I had hurt myself.

A scene so beautifully lifted from those numerous Remember Me Not Bollywood flicks.

I took her to wash room so that she could wash off all that blood and I tied my handkerchief around the gash.

Then it was a field day for all the other females present there on the dance floor.

“You’ve got married to him! The filmi style… ”

I was sweating, breathing hard, wheezing, out of breath. I have pain in my left shoulder. I hear a horn in the background.

I wake up; my t-shirt drenched in my sweat, a car takes a turn somewhere.

A scary dream. A Nightmare.

The flying "Indian Railways of 80s"

2007-01-29T19:34:00.000+05:30

Ooops! I did it again.

Well I have flown with these guys for at least 5 times if not more and all those 5 times my experience has been like, I better not talk.

It is the flying Indian Railways, but the railways of the 80’s.

So what happened this time? My brother had come over to Hyderabad from Nigeria after more than 1 year, and Jan 12, 2007 being a long weekend, yes we a day off on Jan 15 for Pongal/Sankranti.

I thought if I book an early evening flight to Hyderabad I can have a nice evening with my nephew and my niece; and the only flight available was of this flying Indian Railways of the 80’s. They say “We are a low cost airline.” Indeed they were a low cost airline this time; where the others were two to three times costlier than this. And this is where I made the mistake and I did it again.

So my flight departs on Jan 12, 1800 hours. On Jan 11, 2020 hours I receive an SMS that my flight has been rescheduled to depart at 2250 hours. Well rescheduling is acceptable if it is due to unforeseen circumstances. And unforeseen are... you know unforeseen. If you get an "unforeseen" 24 hours before the actual, then is it actually foreseen? I guess... Ummmm... Not. It is turning a blind eye to make it not seen but unforeseen. But then who am I to say that, Captain Gopinath and his well trained staff knows it better.

Anyways, I leave office in time to reach the airport and just as I am about to board the taxi, my mobile phones buzzed. “The flight has been rescheduled to depart at 2325”
A flight which had to depart at 1800 hours was rescheduled to depart at 2020 hrs and then rescheduled again to depart at 2325 hours.

Man there is something seriously wrong somewhere. And I feared the worst. May be they’ll keep on rescheduling it again and again and I’ll see my return flight make a landing.

Nevertheless I board the taxi and head for the airport. Whatelse to do, I thought.

As if all this was not enough; to add to my woes while I stand in the queue to take my boarding pass the bloody server goes down. 20 minutes we stand there doing nothing cursing that moment when we all book the tickets with this “Flying Indian Railways of the 80s”. There were many like me, some regulars and some irregularly regular.

And this one gentleman is so furious that when he finds the lady on the other side of the counter free, starts blasting her. The most humorous thing he said was"

“Why do you charge airport tax to us?”

Some reply which was insignificant

“Why? Don’t you guys pay Airport Authority of India the taxes for using the Bangalore airport? Have they banned you from using the airport? Do you do online transfer just when you are about to land and this time the server like this bloody one here has failed and you cannot transfer the money or is that you cheque bounced.”

Man I was on the floor laughing, rolling from side to side, the spasms in the stomach getting the better of me; and I laughed so hard, so loud that the guy probably forgot his anger and then thought for a while and then started to laugh too. I couldn’t help but say “Maybe they carry the cheque with themselves and now were have a chicken and egg situation.”

He for sure didn’t get that, for he was part looking for the chicken and part waiting for that egg to pop up from somewhere. Anyways if you guys didn’t get that let me explain

“They have the cheque with them and they are in the air. They can give the cheque only when they land and they cannot land until they give the cheque”

Whatever.

They got the paper on which they print the boarding passes and started scribbling on it.

Then came running a lady, who looked like she was from China, or that region, you know what I mean they all look the same. She waited in the queue, unknown to her that the queue will take a long time to even consider the notion of moving. Seeing that nobody moved she moved ahead and stood besides me. We Indian are very helpful people. So I told her “You see the Server is down, probably the link somewhere is down or that their switch has been stolen.”

She did see I use Colgate. Raising her eyebrows she made a sorry face “I heard the announcement that… ”. I thought since when did they start announcing ‘May I have your attention please (what else do I have left?) our server is down because we forgot pay our electricity bills and they have disconnected the power lines to our office. We apologize for the inconvenience caused.’

Back to where she left “… we can carry only one cabin luggage. I have two I have to check in one”. Sure go ahead, talk to that guy on the counter and he will be happy to help you. Not that they usually say so or are really happy doing so, but now for sure they would be or else they will have to put up with the angry customers.

So we got the boarding passes and moved to the Security Check.

You fight a skirmish and you are a hero. You fight a battle and you are revered by all. You fight a war and you are a national hero.

Time to walk towards the Security Check and move on to the boarding lounge.

Ok so he is in queue. He … he and he … he too. Here the queue turns, here again it turns. It spirals inward in ever decreasing radius. I follow the queue moving in opposite direction... where the heck does it end? I raise my arm in disgust and say it loud “Where does this God damn queue end?” Of all the people standing there who hear my plea, this one guy listening to his I-Pod removed his earphones and said “There’s the last guy”. That was for the loudness.

Where I stood, the queue has already spiraled four times. There were at least 150 + lives being wasted in a never ending queue. I so badly wish the guys in charge, the AAI authorities and the politicians have to stand in this queue for 1 hour like I did.

Better they commit suicide, that will save so many lives.

I am scared. Really scared. With these many people how thoroughly can the security personnel manning the X-Ray machine scrutinize the baggage and the harassed travelers.

“Passengers traveling through ‘I am sure you hate it” flight to
Hyderabad are requested to move to Gate 2 for boarding.”

Finally I am in. The airline has free seating. It is like the general compartment of the railways. You sit where you find a seat. Thank God they don’t overbook or some body will have to stand and travel or foot-board travel. I take the first available seat and wait for the aircraft to take off.

There some commotion in the back. A guy approaches the Cabin Crew in-charge then talks to the pilot. I later figured it out that there was this guy on board who was so badly drunk that he didn’t know the difference between the seat and the arm rest and tried to squeeze the arm-rest so that he could sit comfortably; squeeze it where? The moral police is watching and I better say no more than I already have.

The security arrives, the Air Hostess talks something, they walk all the way back and talk to the drunk, the pilot comes and talks some sense to the nonsense, they talk, discuss, talk talk and discuss again. I heard the security say to the Air Hostess ‘If you say we can take him off the flight’. ‘No it is okay’

The security instructions about how to put on the seat belt, tighten it or loosen it, the emergency exits, the lights, the oxygen masks, the instruction booklet and of-course “Do not steal the life jackets, we will not be able to provide you with low cost services if you do so”

All this while it is hot inside, they haven't put on the AC I guess.

“Cabin crew prepare for takeoff”

“Cabin crew to their stations for takeoff”

I peak up the music on my I-pod, take out my laptop and start writing this post. I check my watch its 0100 hours of Jan 13, 2007 for a flight which had to depart at 1800 hours on Jan 12, 2007.

“Chai-Chai- samosa…”

The trolley moves in the aisle. A lady purchases a fruit juice at price so high I cannot even jump and grab it. An old fella buys water.

Later in next few weeks I read in paper that Air Deccan has made profit. And I need not wonder why?

The landing... finally at 0200 hours. I am tired, hungry, thirsty, pissed off, angry, irritated and I can go on about how I was feeling.

I am sure this is the strategy of Air-Deccan. Put the scheduled departure time at convenient times, most likely in the evenings, so that people buy the tickets. As soon as they buy the ticket message them that the flight is rescheduled, most likely at the dinner time. If he cancels the ticket they still earn some money. If not, all the better. Just 2 hours before the departure message them that the flight has been rescheduled to even later time in the night. People reach airport get the boarding passes and seeing the long queues every where, even in the loo, they stand in one of the lines. Note that the passenger hasn’t found time to have something to eat or drink, no one wants to stand a stupid queue for any long than necessary.

Since the queues are long you end up standing in the queue for boarding once you are done with the security check. Note that the passenger hasn’t found time to have something to eat or drink, no one wants to stand a stupid queue for any long that necessary.

The passenger, so much thankful to the entrepreneur, takes a sigh of relief and takes his seat. But the pangs of hunger and thirst start bothering him; and then (s)he sees the bottled water, samosas, biscuits in that trolley. What do they do, they buy the stuff at prices they would never otherwise buy; and some like me take a vow to never do anything which will make this bastards make money.

But I thank them that they haven’t yet put a charge on using the toilets in the aircraft or for using the toilet/tissue paper. At least for now I can relieve myself in peace.

By the way, have you ever notices their mascot ‘The Common Man’ by R.K. Laxman. He carries a basket which has the Air Deccan logo of ten fingered birdie in it. And Air Deccan is very much like it. Just like the common man doesn’t know when the birdie will leave the bag and fly off, the entire country doesn’t know when the flight will finally take off.

Air Deccan. Low cost unpredictable services at the terrible cost of
spoilt plans…

I here by take a vow to never ever travel with you guys.

Shit!... It is the Big Boss

2007-01-29T12:16:00.000+05:30

I do not have a television. I do not even have a radio. How do I entertain myself? Well I read books, listen to music and play games on my laptop to name a few.

Had read a lot about Big Brother in the newspaper in last few weeks, some kind of reality show. A rather popular show and like all popular Western stuff had its own copy stuff here back home called Big Boss.

Never had actually seen an episode of Big Boss.

But This Saturday, when I was visiting my friend he was hooked to the TV “It is the Big Boss Grand Finale” and I stayed on to see the show.

My votes??

“Crap. Tuck loads of it. Airbus 380 jumbo loads of shit.”

I was really hurt to see how Arshad Warsi, my friend, and plenty of others had savored the entertainment served to them; making fun of the feelings of people in there, in that house for three months. Reality Show! What reality and where’s the reality?

I feel pity of Anupama Verma (She had long back featured in a Jackie Shroff movie.) Aryan and Anupama had sparks flying between them and when it was all reduced to dying embers it became the fire place where others could take the warmth of… Ah! Entertainment.

What happened to other stuff? Like “Hey! You were friendly to others. You were always there to help others. You were real non-sense but yes we enjoyed it a lot. Hadn’t it been for you comic, life there would have had been so boring.” The only thing that was talked was “You and you were so close.”

Arshad Warsi, asking Aryan, how’s life, how’s this “Aur kaisa hai, who kaisa hai” and with particular emphasis “Aur woh kaisa hai?” Are you nuts man? That lady sitting there has been hurt, her feelings trampled upon, you can feel her pain when she said that she doesn’t talk about here personal life in public and doesn’t want to talk about it. It hurts her family more than it hurts her. You kind of get the hint but cannot refrain from wandering there again and again.

I really felt bad about what happened to Anupama out there. You very rightly said

“I thought it was reality show, thinking that the people will be their normal selves as they are out there in the real world. But I was wrong people were playing games here; playing games with people’s emotions, people’s feelings.”

No matter who ever hurts you remember lady that he/she was never worth the effort of feeling bad of crying. Just what you said.

As somebody wise had said:
“Kisi ka rona, kisi ka tamasha”
(somebody’s tears somebody’s entertainment).

The evergreen melodious songs of past.

2007-01-29T12:08:00.000+05:30

A long weekend, 3 days at a stretch and you know why and how much I hate them some times.

A set of peaceful 3 days.

I listened to old, very old, Hindi music. Lay in the bed for so long that I did not feel like sleeping in the night. Doing all the laundry and ironing then, while the soft music played in the background. It is four o’clock in the evening and its time for Salsa.

And what’s better that your partner (just a dance partner so you don’t roll you eyes now) doesn’t want you to dance with another lady.

Get up in the morning the next day, Sunday, make a cup of hot tea (I love tea and have a quarter of a liter at one go) read the Sunday newspaper, first line to the last. Walk around the house relishing my loneliness with Manna Dey , Rafi, Mukesh, Suraiya and the other of the same league singing their best in the background.

Its four o’clock again and it is time to shake a leg.

Some of the songs I listened in this long weekend:

- Aawaz de kahan hai tu, duniya meri jawan hai…
- Yahoo! Chahe koi mujhe jungle kahe
- Bedardi Balama tujhko mera man yaad karta hai
- Chod gaye balam, mujhe hai akela chod gaye
- Khuda kare ke kayamat ho aur tu aaye
- Jhuka Ke Sar ko phooncho (Satre – pe –Satta)
- Masti Bhara hai sama, hum dono hain yahan
- Gori ka Sajan, Sajan ki Gori, lo ji shuru ho ayi love story (really cool English LOL)
- Teri Bindya Re, re aaye haye teri bindya re
- Kisi ki muskurahaton pe ho nisaar, kisi ki dard mil sake to le udhaar
- Phool Tumhe Bheja hai Khat main, phool nahin mera dil hai
- Yeh Dil , yeh pagal dil mera. Kyon bhuj gaya aawargi.
- Hum Bewafa hargiz na the, par hum wafa kar na sake
- Aye malik tere bande hum, aise hon humare karam
- Itni shakti hume dena data, man ka vishwas kamzoor ho na
- Dil Tadap Tadap ke kah raha aa bhi ja tu hum se aankh na chura
- Kya janoo sajan, hoti hai kya gum ki shaam. Jal uthe sau diye, jab liye tera naam
- Jab bhi koi kangana bole, pyal chanak jaye, soi soi dil ki dhadkan sulag sulag jaye
- Dil diya hai jaan bhi denge aye vatan tere liye
- Toote hue khawabo ne, humko yeh sikhaya hai, dil ne…. dil ne jise paaya tha aankhon gavayan hai.
- Yeh zindagi usi ki hai, jo kisi ka ho gaya, pyar hi main kho gaya
- Yeh dekh ke dil jhooma, li pyar ne angdaayi … deewana hua badal
- Magar –e- haseena –e- bekhabar, jara dekh chupke se idhar
- Suhana Safar aur yeh mausam haseen
- Jis gali mein tera ghar na ho balma, us gali se hume to guzarna nahin
- Aye dil hai mushkil hai jeena yaha, jara hat ke jara bach ke, yeh hai Bombay meri jaan
- Sar jo tera chakraye, ya dil dooba jaye, aaja pyare paas humare, kahe ghabraye
- Hume aur jeene ki chaahat na hoti, agar tum na hote
- Aane vala pal jane vala hai
- My heart is beating keeps on repeating. I’m waiting for you. My love encloses a lot of roses…
- Usha Uthup – Hari Om Hari
- Yeh raat aur yeh doori, tera milna hai jaroori, ki dil mera dhak dhal dole…
- Aa ab laut chalein,
- Chingari koi bhadke to sawan use bujhaye sawam jo agan lagaye use kaun bhujaye…
- Main to kab se khadi ek baar ki ankhiyaan
- Aaaj sanam madhur chandni main hum tum mile to veerane main aa jayegi bahaar…
- Lakdi ki kathi, kathi pe ghoda, ghode kid um pe jo mara hathoda…
- Teri pyari pyari surat ko kisi ki nazar na lage, jash-me-baddoor….
- Jo vada kiya woh nibhana padega, roke zamana chahe roke khudai ...
- Bichua ... Peepal chaiyaan, abithi pal bhar, dhar ke gagariya… das gaya paapi bichua…
- Zindagi milke bitayenge, hale dil ga ke sunayein-ge....
- Kaun hai jo sapno main aaya, kaun hai jo dil main samaya, jo jhuk gaya aasma bhi ishq mera rang laya....
- Jhilmil sitaroon ke aangan hoga, rimjhim barasta hoga sawan hoga...
- Jaai-ye aap kahan jaayen-ge, yeh nazar laut ke fir aayegi...
- Tasveer teri dil main, jis dil se utaari hai, fir tujhe sang leke ...
- Pathar ke sanam, tujhe humne mohabat ka khuda jana....
- Dushman na kare dost ne woh kaam kiya hai...
- Kisi na kisi se kabhi na kabhi, kahin na kahin dil lagan padega...
- Ramiya vasa-vaiya, main dil tujhko diya...
- Ello ji saman hum aa gaye, aaj fir dil leke, ab itna bhi na gussa karo nahin jani.. yeh khoya khoya mausam pawan diwani… (too good a song)
- Dhadkan jara ruk gayi hai…. Kahin zindagi bah rahi hai....
- Madhuban main radhika nahe re, girdhar ki muraliya baje re...
- Dilbar dil se pyara, dil ki suntan ja re, sari duniye hari humse hum tujh pe dil hare….
- Pyar hua ishq hua ( The great Raj Kaporr, Nargis song)
- Kutch to log kahenge…
- Sheesha ho ya dil ho toot jata hai…
- Bahut shukriya, badi maharbani, meri zindagi main huzoor aap aye…
- The memorable guitar in Karz, Ek haseena thi…
- Javed Akhtar – Jab tum yaad aaye…
- All time favorite – Dukki pe dukki ho ye satte pe satta….
- Yeh rat yeh chandi fir kahan … sun ja dil ki dastaaan
- Chandan sa badan, chancel chitvan…
- Pyar kiya to darna kya??
- Raat kali ek khwaab main aayi aur gale ka haar bani ...
- Jahan main jati vahin vchale aate ho , chori chori mere dil main samate ho, yeh to batao ki tum mere kaun ho …
- Pukarta chala hoon main, gali gali bahar ki, bas ek chaaoon julf ki….
- Ek Pyar ka nagma hai…

My all time ever favourite
“Tum ne woh kya dekha jo kaha deewana, humko nahin kutch samajh jara samjhana….
Pyar main jab bhi aankh lad jaaye, tab dhadkan aur beechaini badh jaye…
Jan koi ginta hai ratoon ko tare…. tab samjho use pyar ho gaya pyare…
Pyar hume kis mod pe le aaya…”

And last but not the least, the great Lata song:
“Aye mere vatan ke logon, tum khoob laga lo nara,
yeh shubh din hai hum sabka,
Lahra lo Tiranga pyara,
par mat bhoolo,
seema par veeron ne hai pryan gavayin,
kutch yaad unhe bhi karlo… Jo laut ke ghar na aayee..”

And my songs are still not done... there are more.
I am sure the golden days of bygone years must have come fresh in your mind. These are the evergreen songs and I have made multiple copied of them, you know redundancy in a fail safe system.

Vivo en Bangalore

2007-01-05T18:50:00.000+05:30

Descrption

Vivo en Bangalore. La ciudad es fria. Las calles de la ciudad son sucias y angostos. Las calles son ruisodes tambien. La ciudad tiene casas. Las casas son muy gandes. Hay muchos hotels. Los hoteles son costosos. Busco una casa en mi tiempo libre. El aeropuerto de la ciudad es grnade pero esta muy lejos. El aeropuerto es ruisodo. Hay muchos autobuses en las calles de la ciudad. Los autobuses son viejos. Muchos autobuses estan rotas. Las personas de la ciudad son amables. Son felices y orgullosas. Los personas caminar en los jardines. Los jardines de la ciudad son hermosos. La ciudad es muy hermosa los fines de semana. A mi familia le gusta la ciudad. Viene Bangalore en deciembre o jenero. Vive en Lucknow. Nuestro casa en lucknow es muy grande. Nuestro casa tiene un jardin. Hay muchos las plantas enstan en la jardin. Mi madre y mi padre les gustan plantas.

Being spied upon....

2006-12-07T14:06:00.000+05:30

My sincere apologies to all those who visit and take a nap while they read this blog.

I have been off blogging for last couple of weeks. I was hiding in my rabbit hole.

No I was not mimicking any Saddam Hussain's capture episode.

For last 2 months I have been observing events that have been happening around me. I have had come to a conclusion that the secret agencies of the world CIA, KGB, MOSSAD even ISI are snooping on me. I don’t know the agencies in Africa but I am so sure that they are also involved. I feel they all have together initiated a Jehad against me. I don’t know for what reason. I haven’t been involved with anything sinister but still they chose to target me. If the Vajpayee government could fool CIA and do a nuclear test, I am sure I can also evade the eagle’s eye.

How do I know that they all are spying on me?

Well I never discuss my personal issues with anybody, anybody. But even then they know of my financial problems. Every day I get tons of mails from unknown people offering me a part of their fortune. How did they get to know that I need what they have? How come the Barclay’s Bank, wherever it is, knows that I need money and sends me mail that I need to give them my bank number identification number so that they can transfer millions in my account?

Did I say millions? Yes I did. How can a bank offer millions to an unknown person, unless the whole act is a concerted show of these intelligence agencies that have each put in a substantial amount to pay for those millions on the platter and for the pay of that guy who sends me those mails?

They are after me, which I can digest, thanks Hajmola, although with great resentment and disbelief. But can one justify that just to pin me down they have gone a killing spree, slaying so many millionaires. Every now and then some millionaire has dies somewhere, and the next of kin wants to disburse, read siphon off, the fortune and needs my help to divert the funds giving my share of 20-30% of the amount. The amount in question is billions of USD, yes USD.

Since I haven’t replied to any of those mails and fall in the trap laid by these nasty people, they have resorted to mental torture to make me com e out of my rabbit hole. I do not and will not. I have come out form my den just to let then know that I am a warrior and will not give in. Even the torture that have befallen upon me won’t weaken me. These people have started a rumor campaign, like the “Get well soon Lucky.” questioning the extent of my masculinity. Trillions of people who I don’t know have been up day in night out to suggest cheap drugs or good one at cheaper rates like Viagra. I want to tell all those people just one thing, “Go and ask you mum and sis”. What do you ask is entirely on you. But to get the right answer one has to ask the question and that is all that I have to say about that

I better finish and go back hiding. It is about time these guys will come and start sniffing the whole network for any sign of me. In the meantime I would invite everybody who been a victim of this organized crime to fight for their right and not give up.

Vahe Guru Ji ka khalsa, Vahe Guru Ji ki fatah.

And the warrior ran straight into the enemy killing them like flies……..

Jara aaankh main bahr lo pani, jara yaad karo kurbani…..

PJs (Poor Jokes)

2006-11-13T14:29:00.000+05:30

Did you ever know what is the most difficult part of PJs (poor jokes)?

It is making those PJs and worst making those PJs spontaneously.

Consider this:

My colleague and I were taking the daily stroll after having our lunch and we happened to pass my motorcycle. Looking at the odometer my colleague asks me “Hey, how come you have managed only 14 thousand kilometers in past 2 years, I have done 30 thousand on my car in last 1 year?”

Waiting for my reply he was prepared in defensive stance to take the onslaught.

After some time, pretending to think a lot about the answer, I replied.

“Well, you have 4 wheels on your car and I have only 2!”

“What?”

“Well, you clock four times the distance while I only clock twice!”

And he ran amok into the crowd….

And I was so pleased and happy and all the other in our group had a good hearty laugh.

s(Pee)itting

2006-10-25T14:29:00.000+05:30

Ladies before you start reading this post I consider it my duty to warn you that you may not like reading this post. Even if you do you would not be able to appreciate the concerns raised in this post as it is very likely (though I want to write almost certain) you have had not witnessed the act described here.

So here I hit the road…

It has been a mystery for me. No matter how much I try to reason out the reason I fail to come up with a fairly convincing reason to convince myself that I have found a reason for this ‘do this after, before or simultaneously’ behavior.

I have been baffled by the expanse of this behavior and as to how it is common to all men and cuts across all boundaries of type, size, color, caste, wealth, geographical location and any other line of demarcation that I can think of.

I don’t know what is this invisible bond that binds the act of reliving oneself (males of course, I don’t know about ladies) at the urinals and spitting?

Some men start with spitting, some men continue reliving themselves with the act of spitting, and some end with spitting after reliving themselves. Its not that I don’t have any other better work to do while I am relieving myself at the urinals, but just that I kind of feel it be very stupid to stare at the tiles in the front or look down into the urinal. It just feels so disgusting. And to add I don’t like spitting.

Do they feel like they have vanquished an insurmountable opponent? I guess they do so.

The smile, that feeling of joy and pride on their face does kind of reflect that sentiment. And if I may add they spit at their vanquished opponent; like some celebrate their victory, well almost certain victory, before the great war, some celebrate as they fight the war and some after they have had won the war.

“See that’s what you get when you mess with me. Need one more?? Hugh! Spit Spit one more spit. There your go you rotten …”

And some are real funny even when they are at this great holy war. These guys do not give up, ever, on their sense of humor. Even whey they trample their ‘who ever it is’ with the furry of a ravaging river they keep the whole environment cool and friendly by whistling a strange whistle, which goes like “Shoooo….. Shoooo….” What a great way, I admit, to shoo away the unwanted by saying “Shoo… Shoo…”!

I find this very funny, very very funny and very very very funny. So most of the time I kind of smile and others think the same what I have described above. But I don’t spit in or at the urinal.

Statutory Advice: Guys please wash your hands after using the rest rooms.

PS: When I told to my psychiatrist friend about my new post, he very coolly, as a matter of fact said “Telling one’s story as a friend’s story has been an old method of talking about oneself”. And I fell to the ground laughing; rolled on the floor as the spasms in my stomach became unbearable ...

5 Days at office.

2006-10-10T15:06:00.000+05:30

A Typical day at office until….

Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.
Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.
Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.
Honey, hurry up and answer the phone.

My mobile phone suddenly chirped. This was my ring tone. The voice is neither of my current or future wife, given that I am single and neither of my girlfriend, I don’t know which one.

Hello!
Good evening Sir! Hmm… Arr… Good Morning Sir!
A Very good morning, may I know who’s on the line?
Is this Mr. Smart Alecky?
Yes. This is he. May I know who is on the line?
Sir, I am calling from XYZ Bank, we are offering a life time free credit card to only a few select of our customers and you have been chosen for the card.

Day 1.

Before you say anything, let me thank you. This is the first call that I have received in last 4 days.
Sir… (Stopped in the middle)
Wait let me finish. Allow me to thank you by treating you with a cup of coffee, for a start, at Barista next to…
Sir, Do you stay somewhere near that Barista?
Yes. Very close. If you want you can also see my house. It’s not huge though, just 4 rooms on some 3000 square foot of space. (Sounding very modest)
Sir, no need for that. Actually we have an office near that. You can go and give your papers at that office.
Yeah so lets meet and you explain me in details all about the card, all hidden charges, all penalties.
Thank you for time sir
So, I’ll expect you at 5:00 pm there, this Saturday.
Click.

Day 2.

I am sorry, but I am not interested.
Sir this card has this advantage, that advantage, no this and no that, extra there and extra here…
Do you guys ever give up? Almost shouting
In a defensive tone Sir, we are doing our job.
Sounding very sad I really pity you guys. You have to do work at office! We usually play golf!
Trying to conceal the embarrassment behind that almost there laughter Thank You Sir
Click.

NOTE: Some really don't understand and straight away hit for the Click.

Day 3.

Sir, based on your good balance in your account we are giving this card free for life time/ so many years, reduced late charges. And the best part is that you can use this card at any merchant location
Wow, that really great. But by the way, what amount you consider as good balance?
Trying to think something I cannot reveal that Sir
The reason why I say this is because if my balance is good then your people are in trouble as then anybody is eligible for your card
What do you mean Sir
Just go and check your record for once, my account balance has never been more than xyz. xyz here is less than even a decent amount with a person who has been bankrupt since the mezozioc era.
Click.

Day 4.

You know this is the fourth time I am being selected for the offer, even though I have refused it all the times.
Amm….
Do you guys have a dictionary?
Yes, why Sir?
Well go and look how many meaning does ‘NO’ have in it. Until the last time I saw it, it always meant only ‘NO’
Click.

Day 5.

Sorry, I am not interested.
Why sir? Do you have any other cards?
Yeah, Citibank, HDFC, SBI, ICICI, Standard Chartered, Manhattan …. (almost all the names I knew other than this bank)
Sir, you can keep the cards from all the banks but not mine almost in tears, if possible the mobile phone would have had become a gargoyle.
Click.

And I wonder why I don’t have a credit card.

Strike, brings the best out of me....

2006-10-03T17:39:00.000+05:30

Its not that I am one of those, work till I die kind of workaholics; I really do love to get day off from office but I hate it, loath it when it happens to be on a weekday. And especially if it is because of a strike(bandh) organized by somebody who probably thought there hasn’t been much of rioting on the streets. Why? The reasons are aplenty and listed down below, not necessarily in the order of their priority of being a major contributor to that hate feeling.

Office is the place where I get a good delicious food, which of course looses its deliciousness after days of eat-the-same-kinda-food thing. But nevertheless given the fact that it at a subsidized rate of Rs. 6 per meal, unlimited, nobody has any right to complain about the taste. Now if the day off is on weekday I miss my chance to gobble up all that food at those cheap rates. I have to go out and shell a lot more for not that healthy and many times certainly not that much hygienic food. Well you can call me a miser, cheap person but I’d call it as saving for the rainy day. Now if the day off is because of the bandh (strike), then all eateries outside are closed and there’s every chance of people like my starving to death. This is the Amazon rainy day where my savings for the rainy day do not come in handy. Even the pizza huts/corners are closed and there’s no home delivery.
Office is that one place where I meet, greet, grin at, look cocked eyed at so many people. There’s so much to talk about, and so many to talk to. With the day off I miss all those people. The life feels so boring and dull.
Office is that one place where I can surf a lot, till I drop dead or one of the person from IS (Information Support) teams comes saying that I have violated my company’s online surfing policy ‘n’ number of times which is ‘m’ times more than the permissible limits of ‘k’ attempts. But nevertheless I can browse a lot. And not having an internet connection at home make life all the more miserable.

Office is that place where I can have gallons of tea/coffee. It’s the lifeline of my life at office, or else I be down with the hang-of -left-over of the last drop of coffee I had days ago. At home limited supply of milk makes me feel lethargic and lie all day on the bed.
Office is that one place which allows me for recreation. A non-existent TV and a far from working radio makes that recreation at home almost next to beyond impossible. And especially if you have a college friend, who is as big an ass hole as a mammoth’s asshole (not the mammoth or the mamoth's hole, but the friend, get your context right you dumbo), living in the same building, who wears that my-wife-beat-me-again sorry pathetic, ready to die look whenever I knock at his door just because he knows that invariably I’ll switch on the his TV and his electricity meter somewhere downstairs will board the supersonic or maybe superlight, merry go round, and start spinning as fast as you can say nothing. This also adds to my second point about people. Just for the record this genltemand is a bachelor.
Bandh there’s no newspaper so that I can do that crossword again and again. I do it once with a pencil, erase it and do it again.
And since all the shops are closed because of the bandh, I have to stockpile my packets of cigarettes and of course I always do not stock enough of them.
I have to play that stupid game of ‘Ceasar’ again and again. Sometimes its fun though, to pay the citizens peanuts, 10 denarii per-month of salary and tax them at 30-40 percent of their income. And then hear the people crying out loud. Stop all the farming and hear the lady grunt “There’s no food in the city so I’m on my way 'ome'”, or that cart pusher “Can you spare me a little bread. I haven’t eaten for long”. And then the situation worsens and there are riots in the city and people come out on the roads with torches shouting “Down with the Governor” and I take all my troops there just to kill that one person who most often hides in one of those slums even before my army can say ‘March’. Most of the time its October though.
Worst of all I will have to come on Saturday to compensate for this unwanted middle-of-nowhere holiday. I would, sometimes I do think so, love to do so as Saturday, by the very essence of it being a Saturday is a laidback day, so no problem if anybody catches you snoring while you stare at that monitor, which now shows you screensaver when you thought you were reading a pdf on autoscroll!!

And finally when I am tired of all the stuff that I did and did not do, I roll myself in the bed thinking about all those beautiful things that never happen to anybody. Well God is not anybody but even then they do not happen to him also.

And by the time you read this line, I have already consumed 2 hours of my productive work time to write this post, proof read it, correct all the typos and post it; and now its time to go home and prepare for that bandh(strike) tomorrow and do what all I wrote above.

Disclaim-ed Post...

2006-09-29T13:52:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: The following post might be offending to those who are better halves, would be better halves, were better halves and want to better halves of somebody. I do not condone and appreciate the behavior mentioned in the post, and is described here for … well you read the post.

I have this new old friend. He’s new because I met him only 3 years back, and he’s old because of all those friends I have had made in these last 3 years he was probably the first.

So this friend of mine got married recently, as recent as 1 year back. Standing at 5 feet mark he’s not that tall, but he compensates for those missing good inches with his ever growing waistline. “Can’t help! She is good at cooking and makes delicious food”, he retorts. Every body who walks by and knows him kind of punches him in the belly and smiles, and some who are funnier, like me, ask “When is the baby due?” A sheepish smile is the short answer to the long question.

But he still clings on to his days of bachelorhood. And the incidents stated are reminiscent of those days.

We often meet at this place; everybody in the world knows that it is a secret place. And so very often we have this beautiful lady visiting this place; and every time my dear friend sees her, the adrenalin shoots up and his want for staying there for long gets longer. A strange happiness results in a picture perfect ear to ear Colgate smile, and even if you do not know, you can be 100 time infinity percent sure that she is somewhere around. This all seems very filmi, especially if you have recently cried over Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gum. And like all filmi heroes, superheroes and always zeros this gentleman has a filmi name ‘Rohit’. Quite filmi !!

So this other day when this filmi Rohit and I were in the secret building waiting for the elevator to come and elevate us to the top floor, this pericardium, the sinoatrial node of his life suddenly appeared on the same floor. A flash of lightening somewhere, and I instantly knew that it was the Colgate smile and that the lady was somewhere near. Waiting for the elevator on the same floor, there were we three and some other don’t cares. The elevator stopped and incidentally it was empty, normally it is never. My friend later told me it was good or else we three would have to split in two and one. No, I didn’t have the guts to ask whether that one was me or somebody else. In the lift this gentleman was in the seventh heaven (maybe even more if somebody can prove that there are more)

With heels of more than what looked like mighty six inches, she stood a little taller than 5 feet 3 inches, give or take. The swelling waistline suddenly reduced and the chest was up and out. Had it been a second more, the ribs would have had opened outward, and the heart would making a 100m sprint for every femto-meter, would have been running around pole-vaulting on the elevator floor.

The door opened and we went to the coffee bar and the lady went the other way. Until this day I probably never knew how much fun it was to walk backwards.

Over the cup of coffee the dam-ned drooling started. Here a confession, actually we both did and it looked like I was still a novice in drooling. I am sure he must have been a US Marine or a secret agent before we met, or in his earlier life. Just one look and so much observed and absorbed! “Did you see …(I cant pen down what he said because I won’t be able to do justice to the words and the intensity of those words, but it was nothing that you may start saying Ahaa... Hmmm…WHAT? Perverts…. ) I’d say he said something about a perfect sine curve and other curves, of the scintillating radiant skin, of the pearly teeth, of the beautiful earring… and I dozed off.

And just then we were interrupted by a third common friend, code named Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahin, who without being told anything he understood what has happened in the immediate past. He laughed until he could laugh no more; pearls of joy rolled down his cheeks. Then we both started hitting him, though not hard, reminding him he is married and its time to let go of those days of bachelorhood.

One last word he said “Beautiful…”, we saw a flash of a fleeting shadow disappearing in that distant door…

PS: When I told to my psychiatrist friend about my new post, he very coolly, as a matter of fact said “Telling one’s story as a friend’s story, has been an old method of talking about oneself”. And I fell to the ground laughing; rolled on the flooe as the spasms in my stomach became unbearable ...

And do not ask me which better half I was referring to.

Insane than insanity.

2006-09-14T18:43:00.000+05:30

A Simple question:

How much more insane than insanity can an insane thing be?

Before you start yelling, some laughing maybe guffawing, some gesticulating and nodding their head in disbelief that I have gone mad, let me explain why I ask this question.

There is this religious rule in one of the Islamic countries which says:

“A woman can be held accused of adultery/ infidelity if she cannot produce at
least four males who can testify in the court of law that the woman was
raped.”

I so much want to entire post, filled with exclamation marks. !!!!!!!!!!!

Isn’t this the easiest way to condone the acts of quenching the thirst of sexual pleasures outside the confines of a sacred marriage? And the onus of proving herself innocent is left to hapless woman, who has undergone such a physical and mental torture, a setback to her self esteem, from which there is no coming back. And the conditions of that proof are so such surreal that actually there is no way of the female is proved innocent.

If there was a rape, how can the lady get 4 males, leave alone 1 to testify that she was raped. Even if there were 4 + males in that room where the horrible act happened wouldn’t they be part of the crime, would they say something and put themselves at the guillotine? If not an abettor in the crime then what were they doing there, watching a live porn and self serving?

And when the government kind of tries to do away with this annoying law the religious heads (empty ones I guess) pop up saying that this is blasphemous!

I wouldn’t ever want even my arch nemesis to have a daughter in that land.

Shake-ira in a corporate fest....

2006-09-13T18:55:00.000+05:30

Philips Innovation Campus (PIC) completed its ten years in India; and they had a week long celebration, calling it a festival would be just to its scale and grandiosity. The week long of fun ended in a family get together of PICians (that’s how they call themselves) at Palace Grounds, Bangalore.

Under the huge tent had gathered anywhere close to 2000 plus junta. I like a faithful family member of my friend, who incidentally has almost no family here, accompanied him to this get together. It was an incidental advantage that they had high tea and dinner, on the house! Well now you know what holds my faith.

Anyways, the high tea was good, and very high. Pastries, chicken tikka , patties, lukewarm tea and barely hot coffee were available and I had all of them in multiple rounds until my stomach could take no more. Well I actually respected the amount of effort and time they have had put in bringing up the great mix of delicious food and didn’t want any of it to be thrown away, just because it wasn’t finished, so I kept on going.

Apart from arrangements for filling your belly, they had a mix bag of programs. A fashion show of children, children from 8 months to well I better say not. Yes 8 months, and we say ban child labor. Then there was fashion show, which was more like dancing wearing flashy clothes. They ‘danced’ around on Shakira tunes and tunes of other Bollywood croon-ies.

And then comes Javed Jaffery on stage. And this was the best part of the whole gathering, except for that another best, that one lady in that dance in fashion show or fashion show in dance, whatever it was.

He made the people there laugh and I laughed a lot. One of the few stories he said, though not verbatim:

All the big companies, corporate world have become responsive to the plagues of the society, one of them being AIDS. So they have all started manufacturing condoms with own brand name and even the punch line.

Reliance Condoms: Kar lo duniya mutthi main
NIKE Condoms: Just do it
NOKIA Condoms: Connecting people

The best of all:
Hero Honda Condoms: Fill it, shut it, forget it.

Then he invited some of the head honchos on stage for a short game of dumb-charade, which later on drifted to mimicry; they didn’t know much of stuff. Like this gentleman, must be in high position given his bald and shining head marked by stray strands of grey hairs, who didn’t know how to enact his favorite actor. Poor him, either he didn’t have a favorite actor which is bad or else he didn’t know how his favorite actor acted which is worse. The best of this head honchos heading was still to come.

Javed then asked this another gentleman to dance on one of the Shakira songs, to say in Shakira words, around the world on my bouncing butt! So this guy’s humongous butt swayed from side to side, up and down, from here to there. Shakira had a heart attack somewhere. Don’t come saying heart attack can happen only in the heart and not somewhere. This somewhere is for some geographical location. This one nice chap sitting next to the raised platform, in an effort to buttress his boss, or in this burst of Shakira emotions, jumped on the stage with garland of plastic flowers; put the flowers around this dancing Shake-ira, went down on his knees and started a slow motion tribal kneel-down-dance. The more-Shake-ira understood his cue, arched his back and started hopping from one foot onto another as if trying to simultaneously jump and shove his member into this fan’s mouth. It looked so cheap and ghastly on stage, and amusing knowing that one of the artist in this soft late-night-view-type will be one taking you next monthly review meeting!

Bemused, Javed intervened saying “This is not a dance bar, you kneel-down-dance person please get off the stage.” Literally the only thing that he needed was throw some Rs. 10 currency up in the air!

And I was head over heels. The entire row, column of chairs looked askance wondering “Why couldn’t I laugh as loud as him?”

A helluva time. Full time masti, courtesy they damsel in dance-fashion-show and this little-more-Shake-ira.

And Bangalore dies once again ...

2006-09-11T14:25:00.000+05:30

September 3, 2006: Bangalore chocked to death once again. On a usual day she normally chokes and has a near death experience, atleast two times a day, for hours in the morning and hours in the evening. A routine thing, to which, the Bangaloreans have got used to and they miss the chocking when it is not there. The city recuperates from the week of chocking and gasping for breath on the weekends and on public holidays. But September 3, 2006 was different. It was a holiday, a Sunday, a laid back day for most. The city, while trying to muster some strength to get over the atrocities done to it the gone week and get ready for the onslaught of the next week, was sloshed in the dirt of Congress’s doing.

The Hunter vali, the ring master, the Chairwoman, the lifeline of the party, the incumbent for the only name that does wonder in Indian Politics, Mrs. Sonia Gandhi, was in the city. And the entire Congress party had like poured into the city to felicitate her home (??) coming, to shout slogans praising her and her efforts to dislodge the so called and so many communal forces, to have done all that has been done, undone, will be done, was/is promised but will not be done and all the other forms of done.

Big, super big, super duper big, cutouts were put, banners were placed everywhere and anywhere. If there’s a place, there’s a banner/cutout. Like it was a crime to leave any space unattended! And so many faces donned those posters. Even some of the congress workers were surprised to find that they had so many buffoons in their party. Why do the toothpaste companies not give them some free tooth-paste? The last thing I want to see is these people wearing a yellow toothed smile! And if the big buffoons are there on the display then how come the ntire entourage of monkeys be left behind? So there were family members, near and distantly distant, first level workers, ward workers, the accountants, the siphon-ers, the sweepers, the filth-doers, the named, the un-named and everybody who has the alphabets C, O, N, G, R, E, S, S in their name.

There were plastic flags dotting the entire length of the medians on all the roads of Bangalore; of course where the armada would zoom past. I so many times feel it is so good that these politicians are not interested in visiting each and every locality of a town; else it would be like “Me in a plastic clad Congress land!”

The newspapers reported that the local politicians had a scuffle over who would share the dais with the Lady. I am now so sure that she smells so good. Which perfume??

Then there were those busses. One after another, bumper to bumper, with people packed in. I don’t know what they were offered, a non-vegetarian meal and Rs.500 or more. I guess not, after all it was not fo(a)rmer PM. Devegowda’s call. But the people seemed to be comfortable in those busses. Maybe they don’t have busses in their village, maybe the busses are rickety shiketty, maybe they don’t have seats, what ever the reason may be. But even these comfortable busses are a pain, and you know where, for the daily traveler. I’d recommend the city transport to increase the number of footboards on these busses and increase their surface area, atleast people will have more space to put their toe on and not try some trapeze-ing on the window/door railings.

So these people on a one day tour to Bangalore had a good time, went sightseeing (yes it was all the gargoyles were operational, all the roads were cleaned and were dressed in a coat of fresh paint), delicious lunch, were even paid for junket. They had great time littering wherever they could, spitting whenever they could, and squatting for the obvious when ever they should. The plastic flags and banners did their part so well, flawless; falling on the roads, being swept away by a light gush of wind, trying on their own to complete the picture by blowing into every nook of the road’s asphalt, tree branches. A complete disaster for the city; a perfect mayhem.

And I witnessed all of this as I stood there watching all this happen, a helpless person, trying to reach his class on time only to be stopped, as the traffic piled up, because somebody important was supposed to take the road sometime in next half hour or the next to next one.

Her emergency supply lines went down. It will take her a long time to come back to normal.

Bangalore died once again, asphyxiated and chocked.

While I tried to kill myself and lit a cigarette …

Orkut Explained

2006-09-11T12:20:00.000+05:30

A guy explaining Orkut to his friend:

Dekh mein samjhata hoon Orkut kya hai..jaise bachapan mein dost ki colony mein ja kar wahan ki ladkiyon par line marte the aur woh humari colony ki ladkiyon par

taank jhaank karte the ..bus Orkut ussi ka modern version hai..ek badi si friend list rakho.. teri list mein jo ladkiyan hongi un par mein dorre daloonga aur meri friend list ki ladkiyon par tu dorre dalega :)

Lekin jaise colony mein jane ka bahana chaiye hota tha ki dost rehta hai wahan par..isliye khoob saare dost rakho friend list mein jo use jante hon :)

Hope you did understood..lol Any confustion just shoot your questions :P

Does anybody still have any question??

Multiplexer to De-Multiplexer.

2006-09-08T12:32:00.000+05:30

This is a question I always wanted to ask in my Digital Electronics; course at my grad college. I never asked this question though, knowing that it sounded very stupid. Anyways I knew that my lecturer wouldn't have had appreciated a student curious to this insane, blow up devices, level.

So what is a multiplexer?
A simple device, which routes any one of the N inputs to its sole Output line. The selection being done by the signal you feed it on, very aptly called, the Selector Lines.

To make the dump readers understand what it is like, it is like a junction on the road where all except one roads are two-way. Now traffic from which road enters the one-way is determined by the traffic signal, the selector lines.

For the dumber, its like this. You have a house and you need hot water, cold water or no water. So you have three water lines, one carrying hot water, one carrying cold water and one carrying no water. So if you want to get hot or cold or no water (the N =3 inputs lines) in your kitchen tap (the sole output line) you use a switch/level/valve (the selector).

For the dumbest, there's is nothing like Multiplexer, its all my imagination.

What is a demultiplexer?
The reverse, route the sole input to one of the many output lines, using the selector lines to select which output.

Well actually the multiplexer is on a chip, and one chip usually has 3-4 multiplexer depending on how many inputs you have. So you cannot take one multiplexer and tell others "Hey do you see this? This is a multiplexer!"

Coming back to the question, a rather dump one after having given the above examples!!

If we can give signals at input and choose which one to route on the output line, using the selection lines; why can't we give the input on the sole output line, use the selector lines to select which output line and route the signal to the selected line. A decoder!!"

Caution: The term input output lines are relative and to make the statement less convoluted, the input/output lines are used as seen from a multiplexer.

BTW I don't know why the lines are called lines? I guess the trend started because:

It was easier to print straight lines in the books rather than curves.
Since, people who taught and people who were taught saw the straight lines, started calling it lines (synonymous with straight lines!!)

A fall lower than the lowest ...

2006-09-07T14:00:00.000+05:30

Yesterday there was a news item in the English Daily The Times of India , Bangalore Edition, which made me sad. It read Abu Salem to contest elections from Azamgarh in UP, his home town.

A dreaded gangster abettor in crime, one of those responsible for the Mumbai bomb blasts in early 90s, one who was searched by the Indian Police and Interpol for decades, one for whose extradition the CBI had made elaborate submission in Portugal, one who must be stoned to death publicly, one who should be made to die bit by bit, second by second for the rest many bits of his body and seconds of his life.

And this same person is being invited by a political party to contest elections. One of his relatives, as reported by the daily, said that the clan to which Abu belongs is 20% of the population, a number too high to be ignored by any political party, a number which can turn the fate of the elections.

What has happened to us? What has happened to the democracy for which the freedom fighters gave their life? What happened to the values? What happened to the feeling of doing good for the country?

How low can this democracy bow? Having fallen so low, when will the political parties and the politicians hit hard surface? When the people understand the perils of their actions?

What happened when the infamous Bandit Queen Phoolan Devi was elected as Member of Parliament on a Smajvadi Party Ticket? Was giving her the free ticket to the Parliament a way to assuage what was done to her? Was that a way to legitimate and pardon what she had done, so many killings? I do not condone and say that what was done to her was right, it was a ghastly act, but a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye? Instead of hitting the root cause of the problem, the casteism, the politicians just did add fuel to this wildfire.

All this reminds of what Chanakya once did, to kill the tree whose thorn has pierced his foot. Remove the root cause, kill the tree instead of removing the thorns.

We will all, for certain, burn in the heat of this wildfire.

The uncomfortable heat has already started to take its toll.

The good that was bad.... it did no good

2006-09-01T17:17:00.000+05:30

Sequel to a previous post:

One of the various rules of the environment, in which I was brought up was, what my grandfather and father always said

Something is not bad only because it does harm, but it can also be bad because it has the capability to do good but does not do good.

A statement so simple but encompasses so much in it. I always used to wonder how so much can be said in so less words.

To apply the same argument, the worst thing to happen to India in general and Bangalore in particular was the Software/IT and ITES industry. Why?

It is simple to understand.

These industries have given the people, and so many of them, most of them young and still in youth of their life, so much power. Power to do so many things! It has given them the global perspective. Given them the opportunity to have a look and feel how good things work. What patterns of courtesy people follow? Many have been able to take first hand experience of the seamless and almost flawless working of the massive systems in so many countries; from things which touch our daily life, as trivial as the order on the roads, the courtesy of the person at the phone to as complex as the running of a district/county.

We talk a lot on daily basis in the confines of our offices, of ‘Best Practices’, of ‘Six Sigma quality’, of ‘Customer Delight’, of ‘Courtesy’ and of so many other good things. We make every effort to follow them, to make sure these learning have effect on out productivity, on our quality, the way we act as brand ambassadors of our company, of our products.

But then….

Why do these great things, good things vanish in thin air the moment we setup outsize the confines of the office? When we are at home, on roads, in malls, at movies?

Why do we drive like maniacs? Why do we honk when there is no need to do so? Why do we litter public places? Why does the phone ring during a movie? Why do people don’t give way to others?

Do we behave like that in the office driveway or home? Do we litter the cubicles in office or our home? Do we keep the phone on ringer at office?

We talk a lot about leading a stress free life, leaving the office at office and take only ‘us’ back home not our office. We probably follow this dictum too ardently to miss the point. We leave everything at office, even the best practices, even the good things that we learn while we are office. We leave all the courtesy, all the mannerism, all the politeness, all the gentleness we imbibe in ourselves at office and home.

Should I complain to his parents?

2006-08-29T17:19:00.000+05:30

So this Sunday, we celebrated Ganesh Chaturthi. Everybody was having fun. There was happiness all around. So what does this mean?

a) It gives many, the right to create a make shift pandals on the roads, blocking almost 60% of the road width. But they are aware of their social responsibilities so they always have some people deputed to guide the traffic that Ganesha is sitting here, so you better take the detour.
Its the riders/drivers fault that they chose to take that road, when there are many pot-holed, 1 lane by lanes, that one can take anytime. Traveling on them might be like cycling the pristine by-cycles but that would atleast save some time. And note that only the atheists, the blasphemous would dare to put their time over and above the Lord.

b) It also gives many, the right to use loudspeakers. Blaring music right from the time when the first of the first of the first photons of the sunray beats upon the earth until the time when the last of last of last photons barely manages to skim the earth. Early of the earliest morning to the latest of late evening. So the neighborhood’s sleep goes for a spin. But we are content that atleast they are making the Ganesh happy.

c) Not to miss the gang of kids on the roads. The only homework they then know is of standing on the road in bunches, numbering to a large number, which would put shame to the cumulative strengths of armies and militant organization of the world. Their dictionary is limited to few words, "Donation uncle, Ganesh!". Makes me wonder, do I look that old? One gang after another they pound on the passers-by. You pay them, Rs 10 is not acceptable is a straight reply, if not by will then to save yourself from the school of piranhas nibbling on you piece-meal.

d) Others find it a great way to show to themselves or maybe to others, gossiping is contagious, their religious bent. They visit from many to any pandals. I don't know what they look for blessings, sandals or something else!!

And it makes me wonder, does Ganesh love it when Himesh Reshmiya croons “Aashik banaya Aapne” or does he really feels like dancing when a chart buster of local lingo is blasting from the loudspeakers? Does he really care about those groups dancing on the roads? Does he worry about those people who after putting a hard day at work would like to sleep well? Does he get upset that celebration for some has become a nuisance for many?

What wrong did I do? I wonder. Why I am not allowed to get a good sleep? Why do I have to be stopped at every corner? Why do I have to slow down on my way to office at every nook and corner of the road? Why has begging taken a new guise under the cloak of religious collection?

Is Ganesha punishing me because I don’t remember when was the last time I went to a temple? Is he punishing me because I don’t contribute to those collections? Is he punishing me that I don’t have faith in the people who collect the money? Is he punishing me that my prayers are limited to just half and hour of modest effort a day?

Should I complain to his parents?

And Sambha asked for mercy...

2006-08-25T18:35:00.000+05:30

PJ's of all PJ's ...

Gabber: Kitne Aadmi they.

Sambha: Sardar Do,

Gabber: Mujhe ginti nahi aati. Do kitne hotey hain?

Sambha: Sardar Do Ek ke baad aata hai.

Gabber: Aur Do ke pehle?

Sambha: Do ke pehle Ek aata hai.

Gabber: To beech mein kaun aata hai?

Sambha: Beech mein koi nahi aata.

Gabber: To fir Dono ek saath kyon nahi atey?

Sambha: Do Ek ke baad hi aa sakta hai, kyonki Do ek se bada hai.

Gabber: Do ek se bada hai? Kitna bada hai?

Sambha: Do ek se Ek bada hai?

Gabber: Agar Do ek se ek bada hai to ek ek se kitna bada hai?

Sambha: Sardar, Maine tumhara namak khaya hai, mujhe goli mar do

Practice makes man Perfect.... Bangalore??

2006-08-14T17:33:00.000+05:30

I was raised in an environment where one amongst the many rules of life were "Practice makes man perfect". I was told that this rule will make me become a better person in all aspects of life, personal, professional and as a part of the "society".

And guess what? As I stand now decades down and beyond the realms of those rules, I find that probably I myself am the only person who knew these golden rules. There are examples aplenty around me. Better person, in all aspects of life, personal, professional and as a part of the "society", all that I became and this came with its own entourage of irritation and frustration.

The one thing that glares right on my face is the surroundings, the things that affect my daily life.

In Part one of this series:

For example:

Take the case of this shit-hole organization people call BMP aka Bangalore Municipal Corporation, and all its offshoots (read CMC etc.) They have been laying the roads, or the contractors have been laying the roads for so many decades. The roads laid afresh and the ones which have a new layer of metal on it, don't in anyway suggest that these people are in this job for so long. Practice makes man perfect!! You ride you bike/drive your card on these and you can feel the road surface as if your surf riding on a wave of metalled road. They are far from even and smooth but atleast better than 0.5-1 foot deep and 2-3 foot long craters for which the euphemism here is "Potholes". Yeah the wiki says that LA is famous for it, doesn't mean we hsould be proud of giving it run for its name.

There are so many flyovers under construction in Bangalore. Under construction, yes well atleast for the last 3-4 years and for will be for the next 2-3 years. Take any flyover, the one at SilkBoard junction, one Jayadeva Hospital; name any and you have many. Most of them have only purpose, to dramatically decrease the transmit time for that junction/crossing. In effect they are just means to dislocate the traffic jam; pick up the traffic jam from this end and dump it on the other. Silk Board, there's traffic jam At Bommnahalli and at Madivala. Jayadeva, there's traffic jam on Bannerghatta Rd. Things were atleast better on Banenrghatta Rd earlier. If not great atleast a bit better!

Take the drains. Every monsoon they de-silt the drain. Every monsoon!! Yes every monsoon. So is there so much of loose soil? No exactly. They de-silt the drain, remove the trash in the drain and dump it next to the drain. So a wild gush of wind blows off some of that silt into that de-silted drain. Come a shower and most of it goes back to its source, the drain.

Pareto Analysis holds well in all the domains. 80% of the problems are due to 20% of the causes. I listed three of those 20%.

I should better leave for home. It takes me 45 mintues to 1 hours to go back home, 13.76 kilometers. Later than now would mean getting stuk in traffic jam for hours and hours.

Thanks for my iPOD I'm still sane and not yet afflicted with road rage.

Hit where it hurts the most...

2006-07-20T18:47:00.000+05:30

A forwarded e-mail best served on the platter of public buffet than a personal serviced e-mail ...

The pusillanimous, inept, to be damned in hell Government and the vociferous citizens.
The bombs leaving public in tatters and the country weeping, while the politicians cry about Peace and wot not.
De-weed the garden. Hit the root.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Have a few minutes to read this!!
GOOD MORNING FRIENDS!!!

I am an Indian citizen. One among 1 billion of us. When somebody bombs
us we die. Just like Americans did when the Al Qaeeda drove their
planes into the WTC. Just like Londoners did when terrorists attacked the
city last July.
But while Americans have the right to retaliate and bomb Afghanistan
offt the face of the map because the terrorists HQ was based there, we
Indians have to negotiate, talk, send peace buses, and "build confidence"
with the government across our border - the Pakistanis who are
supporting the terrorists with money and explosives.

The world applauds how resilient we are in the face of our tragedy, how
quickly we go back to "normalcy". Ironically we ourselves applaud our
resilience. The fact is that the world expects us to be less than human
- hey you fella, so what if you lost your colleague, friend, partner,
husband, wife or brother, get on with it old chap, that's it my boy! No
time to mourn. No time to fume and rail at the injustice being meted
out, no time to even call the terrorists the filthiest of names, no time
to give incompetent politicians and policemen, intelligence agencies
and the powers-be a piece of our mind. (Shivraj Patil, our honourable
honourable minister said something to the the effect that we knew that an
attack was planned but we didn't know the time and place. Really! What
did he expect - a phone call from the terrorists giving him the details
of the local trains, timings and compartments in which the explosives
would be kept !)

We also have to prove to the world that we are RESILIENT. Be happy with
Musharraf's "quick condemnation" and go back to the business of dealing
with old betrayers. After all we cannot "change the region's positive
course", as LA Times' editorial put it. So what if a few hundred Indians
die - Indians who are not into big time negotiations. Indians who just
want to earn their
living and return home to their families after a hard day's work.
But well no, Musharraf and his terrorist friends will deny them the
luxury of going back to his family because en route the train blows up!
And our incompetent politicians and policemen will let terrorists do
their horrific jobs and launch a hunt post-facto...
So Bombayites died for a cause: for the peace of the region! As did
Delhi-ites last year before Diwali. As did people in Bangalore when
Pakistan-supported terrorists hit the city. As did Indian tourists who had
gone to Srinagar for a holiday....And as will many many more will
die...Wow, that's some consolation!

If you feel as angry about what's happening to us, please feel free to
pass this on. If your reaction is: "hey nothing is going to change -
this is India," feel free to delete the mail!

I will be proud to call me an Indian if India crushes so called
"foreign powers" like Isreal did, like USA did ....

Blasted Bliss...

2006-05-20T02:39:00.000+05:30

So right now as I write this post, I am sitting at Gate 4 of the Tucson's International Airport.
Though my flight is at 3:15 pm I came here early. Well too early at 1:30pm. So what do I do to kill time. Open up my laptop, the one I bought from my own earnings (this is the best of the best part), and connect to the Wi-Fi enabled airport. Start up the Rise of Nations game and listen to the title music, at full volume. The music blasting its way out of the meager earphones. "Lemme out!" Next to me is and empty seat which very efficiently is the place where my can of Soda is drooling. Water dripping from its sides...

Sip of soda.
Scribble some line on this post.
Enjoy the RON music - blast...
Check out the babes in the Airport lounge at Gate 4.

And this one hot female sitting just right opposite to me, is an awesome masterpiece, an epitome of God's craft with beauty. That red hair when she moves them away from here face towards her ears. That glittering white teeth. Those dimpled smiles...

She must be in her early 20s. I can bet a zillion on that.

Man I can wait here, sit and watch here all day long. Years over years ... day after day 24/7 365 days an year.

Two seats left of her is this another lady. I don't feel about her the same way I feel about the angel like sweet lady. And this lady is wearing a handkerchief around her waist. Well you can call it a mini skirt, may be micro skirt but that all would be doing injustice to all these adjectives.

And then she crosses her leg and ....

A whole storm blows over me.

I can see right through the freeway all till the other end of tunnel.
Pun Not intended. Though her thighs are as smooth and even as a freeway which has been smeared with butter.

Drip!... Oh yeah my soda and my post...

Its has been 1 hour 15 minutes like this. My guardian angel is still with me and so is the messenger from satan. Trying to lure my eyes away from my angel inviting to me cheap wordily visual effects and dramatization of those thighs rubbing against each other. I just wonder what she would be like!

Darn that soda...

Too much of that aerated drink and my stomach swells like anything and that my bladder swells like it has elephantiasis. I will have to take a break. Pee or Poo depending upon which one has an urgency to blow up.

PPeoeo.

That's literally what I did, spelt the way I did . Did both simultaneously.

And I come back to see that my fantasy world is in shambles. A city of dream made with labor, where each and every brick smells of the sweat that had gone into making it, lies in ruins.

My angel has gone, the damned satan's messenger vanished. And there's somebody sitting where I has once enjoyed the view of my kingdom.

Anyways it is time to board the flight. Hope I meet the angel and messenger in the aircraft. Three seats in a row.

Left my angel, right the messenger.

Pointless point?

2006-05-13T02:50:00.000+05:30

I read this discussion on point on one of my firend's blog. I subscribe to his views but see it in a different perspective.

Any and all points can be fixed point or a floating point.

Consider Case 1:

Our petite point is a fixed point.

The fixed point mathematics say that a point that makes f(x)=x is a fixed point. If this fixed point has dimensions and is pregnent with other points then this argument fails, as then the function will map to many points inside a single point and become a one to many mapping. Since the function f(x) is one-to-one function this cannot be true. Ideally it should not be a mapping, one-to-one or one-to-many or many-to-many as it doesn't map to a smallest unit but a space
consisting of this smallest unit!

Consider Case 2:

Our petite point is a floating point.

Well floating points are just a representation of the real world fixed point in digital world. So the same argument hold here too.

Q.E.D

I always loved to scribble Q.E.D. My Quite Easily Done attempt.

2006-05-10T03:05:00.000+05:30

Having confidence is good, but having too much of it is catastrophic. I knew that, and knew that very well. But I learnt it the hard way, though this time it wasn’t catastrophic.

I came to Tucson, Arizona on an official visit for 4 months. Being this guy that I am, crazy about driving, I wanted to get my driving license as soon as possible so that I can hit the road ASAP. My colleague advised me that the written test for the instruction permit is easy and anyone can clear the test. At this point I’d like to say that I have driven car in India and that too in my dad’s absence. He doesn’t really appreciate that we (my brother and me) drive the car as he will loose his authority on the car and will not be able to drive as frequently as he is now. He started driving at the age of 12 and is too good at it, having driven a Premier Padmini from Rajkot to Guahati.

So I took my colleague’s advice and just flipped the pages of the manual provided by the DMV(Motor Vehicle Division) . That was easy: red light, green light, signal and turn all that I already knew. I thanked my colleague for his insight into the test and went ahead with my zeal to get the license. I went to the DMV paid the fee and sat for the test.

While I was waiting I overheard a mom asking question to her kid “What’s the speed limit in Residential areas?” 25 mph, that’s too easy. I thought why is the mother so worried about the test? Anyways I was confident I would pass this test with flying colors. The guy gave his exam and told his mother the news she dreaded and didn’t want to hear. She yelled “You flunked again!” Poor guy I thought, only if the parents could be a little more understanding. This is not the end of life, she shouldn’t shout at the kid like that.

There were 30 Q’s in all. First 20 questions were easy; I had already read the manual. My score was looking good 20 out of 20. Then the downhill journey started.

Q: What’s the alcohol percentage in blood allowed if you are under 21 years of age.
My answer: 0.08% (0.04 % for commercial license)

Wrong! What? The manual said these figures and I knew it. But unfortunately I didn’t know that legally under 21 years of age one is not allowed to drink! How am I supposed to know that? Later I found that this was given in the manual but in last few pages which I did not read.

Q: If the school bus has extended stopped sign then which traffic must stopped.
My answer only the traffic in the same direction should stop.
Wrong. Again! Well actually the traffic in both directions must stop if the roadway is undivided; else if there is physical separation like a median then only the traffic traveling in the same direction must stop.
The question was ambiguous.

Few more silly blunders and I failed the exam. All that I had to do was get 24 correct out of 30. I got only 23 correct. I was surprised and angry at the colleague’s advice.

After a few more days of preparation I went back again to give the test (one is allowed to take the test 3 times for 1 time payment of the fee). This time the line the manual “What is the correct thing to do depends on the situation” and DUI screwed me up.

Q: If there is a car on the on-ramp of the freeway what should you do?
My answer: I thought. Well you must move left one lane, but if it full of traffic and you can’t get in, then slow down. Speeding up might not be always possible and is risky. I got my answer.

Wrong. Move left one lane.

Q: On a freeway what should you do if an emergency vehicle is behind you?
My Answer: Give right of way, stopping might not always be possible. What if you are on the leftmost lane of the freeway, it is possible that you cannot stop and you don’t cut across all the lanes to get off the road on the right.

Wrong. Stop on the side of the road immediately. Aargh! Why do I have to think and give all the reasoning? Why can’t I give just straight simple answers?

Q: What are penalties for excessive DUI?
I don’t know, I just didn’t read that section.

Q: What are the penalties for refusing a DUI test?
I know it is my bad day. Next Question please.

Q: What are the alcohol limits for DUI?
I clicked next! What an idiot I am, I skipped that question. I knew the answer.

I am royally screwed by my reasoning and DUI.

This was the second time that I had failed and that there was only one more chance or else I’ll have to pay the fee once again. This was enough. I was so much pissed off and feeling so low that I can’t explain. I had cleared all my semester exams in my engineering in first attempt. I had cleared all the exams all the way form class 1 to class 12 in first attempt. I had scored well in all the exams in my PG. And where I failed is this stupid written test.

I made my resolve to beat it this time.
I geared myself up with a notepad, a marker, a pen and all the other stationary.
I prepared as I would had prepared for my end-semester in my undergrad. Making notes, revising notes. Drawing pictures to illustrate the concept and what not.

This third time was the last time and I was desperate to get my license and to see the tires hit the road.

30 Questions. Min required: 24 correct.

First 20 questions, all correct. This was a relief. I had to get only 4 more correct to the get the things going.

21st correct
22nd correct
23rd correct
24th correct

The stupid screen then showed the result that I had passed the exam. I so much wanted to break that monitor. I wanted to score 30 out of 30. What if I incorrectly answered the 30th question? I wanted to show that I can get 30 correct. But his was just a machine oblivious of any human emotions it was condemned to do the same this again and again, a monotonic boring ritual.

It was a good feeling to get the license. The very next day I and my group of colleagues planned a trip to Grand Canyon, 688.8 miles round trip. And I drove for approximately 350 miles. It was so much fun.

But I realized it too late that I was too confident of clearing the exam that I flunked it twice. And the brighter side of the experience is that even 2 months after taking the test I still know all the rules and penalties!

BTW, one person who had the most fun out of my experience was my elder brother. He laughed and laughed when I told him the first time that I failed. He just couldn’t believe me. And when I told him that I had failed for the second time, it was too much of a hilarious thing for him. So every now and then he’d taunt me “So how much time do you need to understand this? After all you failed the exam 2 times!”. “Did you get his? I know it is difficult for you, you had to take 3 attempts to understand the DMV manual.” I know this thing between us will remain for a long time.

Grand Canyon snaps

I'm not an Indian!

2006-03-23T03:17:00.000+05:30

Yes, I'm not an India, atleast that's what everybody says, even though I live in India, even though I was born in India, even tough I have lived 26 long years of my 26 year long life in India.

Not that I like to sneak away to US of A like those gujjus or punjabi's or those gulti's and hence want to prepare myself to be that way.

BTW all my gulti friends have just one ambition in life, to go an settle in USA. Ask them a question "Why?" It helps you get good girls for wives. It helps you get good dowry. What a gulti if haven't settled in USA. Man! One heck of source for drain, I mean brain drain.

Back to where I started. So why am I not an Indian? Simple, because I do not subscribe to the passions and interests, well actually the primary interest, of any and all Indians. The passion that cuts across all boundaries of caste, wealth, literacy and all the barriers we have for ourselves in here. I am not bitten by that bug. I am not ready to waste my day. I am not a fanatic who can spew statistics to either show how much an ardent follower I am or to show that I am more neck deep into this than any other. This is not my past time and this is not of my liking.

I don’t like to watch cricket.

I don’t like to watch cricket, even if it a one-day against the arch rivals India and Pakistan. I am least interested in cricket. To be true I cannot hold a bat and make an attempt to connect the bat to the ball. I an not interested in fielding. I’m not lazy, I play soccer. I do not like to gather that leather ball, or catch it.
I hate to waste 8 hours of my day watching cricket on TV and rest for whatever is left in that day to give rest to my eyes.

To me cricket is a game in where 22 idiots play and 22 million idiots watch.

So I’m not an Indian.

I still remember those days, when I was a kid. And if you are a kid who has an elder brother who’s crazy about cricket, then your life is doomed.

Summers, month of May. I come back from school, eat my lunch and about to jump into my bed to take that afternoon nap. And bang! Someone threw a ball at me. It hit my forehead and I hear your elder brother scream “Get up lets play cricket” Saying no is not an option. He has a bat in his hand and believe me being beated by a bat is worse than hell. So I reluctantly move on. Go outside the house, its terribly hot.

No No. Don’t even think about batting. It is always the same I have to ball first. Get the elder bro out and then beg for my chance to bat. So I would ball, swinger leg cutter or what ever I used to call them. And I had great stamina in balling. I used to ball for one to one and half hours continuously, while my brother used to have great time polishing his batting skills. By the way the batting end of the wicket was always fixed and was always in the shadow of the house. So I guess it would also be comforting and not traumatizing as balling with the sun shining on my head.

So I would ball for couple of hours. If I was lucky I would get my brother out.

Form here there are so many uncertainties.

- If he agrees that he is out, without saying anything, which was rare, I would get a change to bat for few minutes.

- Most of the time I had to prove to him that he was out and I was my chance to bat. And it was rare that I would win an argument and bat.

- This was the most common. If I bowl him out he used to run after me holding that bat high in the air, like a samurai wielding his sword. He would run after me yelling that how dare I bowl him out. And then I would run anywhere I could shouting for help, crying. And since my brother was more of a sports-person he would out run me corner me. And then whatever happened is history.

I don’t like cricket. I’m not an Indian.

Advice for you Mr. Singh.

2006-03-18T02:21:00.000+05:30

So the President of largest democracy decreed, upon recommendation from the party in government adn electio commision, that Jaya Bacchan be suspended from the Raja Sabha as she was holding an office of profit.

So many allegations and deliberations on what is an office of profit and what is not, an office from which one draws/ does not draw salary even though the office pays to other office bearers or same rank... Blah... Blah…

Smajwady Party, particularly Amar Singh came out in the open yelling that there are 44 cases of people holding an office of profit and also being a member of Rajya Sabha/ Lok Sabha. Pardon me Mr. Singh, did you say that others also fall in the same group so this suspension is wrong?

Well since when has being bad been good because the guy next to you is also bad? Maybe you are in politics, so that’s why this weird thing makes sense to you. But to me that’s a chickens way out to saying that ‘Don’t blame me, I'm innocent, others also are too deep in this scam’.

Accept on the face value that crime is a crime and not a good thing just because there are so many criminals.

So Finally ...

2006-02-04T02:30:00.000+05:30

So Finally I'm back here.
Last time that I have been off blogging for so long for the first time Or it's the first time that I've been off blogging for the last time. Whatever. Which time it may be. But i'm back.

Last 9-10 months have had been very strenous. With the project complexity rising like the Sensex and the deadlines narrowing down like the summer stream. Life is indeed tough. The pain was equal if not more than the labor pain. The effort none-the-less more.

Jan'06 was spent staying back in office late in the night. Yawing and cursing the bug on which I somehow kept working. In fact I would realize the next day that I was making more mistakes than I was correcting! But the fun of working late was that there was nobody to interrupt you every now and then with thier problems. Not because I don't want to help them or that I am scared that I do not know the solution, but because that a little more effort would have had the solution yelling on their face "Bugger See its me. I'm here. I am the solution to your problem!". Anyways I'm not afraid to admit that I don't know something. In fact I like to hear me say that I don't know something 'cause that makes me think why? And I work upon to make sure that the next time I have something to say on that problem. So much for self praise!

So now when the project neared completon, I thought I can take some time off and rest, but I was shipped off. There again the same thing started all over again except that its a little bit less hectic here!

And you are bang on target. Won yourself jackpot for guessing it right. That's the reason why I'm here with a new post now, which still looks like a disfigured and spaghetti like scribbling on a toilet paper!

Harried Harry

2005-07-25T16:45:00.000+05:30

Full 2 days at work, not much but as many as 16 hours. Very efficiently flushed down the drain.

And when Professor Trelawney draws all those unfortunate cards life can't be easy. While I drooled on Harry and his adventures with the Half-Blood prince, my team lead was calcualting the productivity indicies for everybody in the team. No wonder my index would have mounted the FireBolt and made a nose dive.

Thank God there were builds to do. Start 4 builds to run sequentially and I have 6 hours of free time.

So Harry started his new session at Hogwarts.

Adava Kevadra.

She killed the Professor. That bitch. How could she? How could she kill Dumbledore? Weren't many other worthless people to die than Dumbledore?

Ah but yes; ofcourse the hero of the story is Harry, how could he share his glory his delight of Killing Voldemort. How could she let him, the hero, share the success with anybody, even it was Dumbledore.

I wouldn't be amazed to see Lupin, Tonks, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and many others; all of them die in Harry's quest.

And yes it would be friends who laid down their life for a good cause. They'll be remembered till the Wizardly world exists. But why couldn't the story be so written to have them alive?

Rowling you leave me growling.

Teddy, Mickey and Donald

2005-06-20T13:59:00.000+05:30

I hate Teddy especially when he's a Bear.
I hate Mickey especially when he's a Mouse.
I hate Donald especially when he's a dick. Oops! Duck!

2005-04-12T14:25:00.000+05:30

This was funny...

Have a nice day!
* Achcha din lo!

What's up?
*Uupar kya hai?

You're kidding!
*Tum bachcha bana rahe ho!

Don't kid me!
* Mera bachcha mat banaao!

Yo, baby! What's up?
* Beti Yo, uupar kya hai?

Cool man!
* Thandaa aadmi!

Don't mess with me, dude.
* Mere saath gandagee mat karo, ek husti.

Check this out, man!
* Iski chaanbeen karo, aadmi!

She's so fine!
* Woh itnee bedaag hai!

Listen buddy, that chick's mine, okay!?
* Suno dost, woh choozaa mera hai, theek?

Hey good looking; what's cooking?
* Arree haseenaa; kyaa pakaa rahee ho?

Are you nuts?
* Kya aap akhrot hain?

Son of a gun.
* Bachcha bandook ka.

And the best one is.....

How do you do?
* Kaise karte ho?

Where's the 3rd Floor

2005-04-08T16:49:00.000+05:30

9.00 pm Dinner time

9.15 pm I with other colleagues and my team lead leave for dinner

9.30 pm Filled my plate to the maximum

9.35 pm It starts raining and it rains as if it would never rain again.

10.00 pm Finished dinner, still raining

10.05 pm Chatting, talking to colleagues, a loud burst of laughter everybody looks at the rookies. still raining. Found a bakra. Leg pulling, teasing.

10.10 pm Bakra beheaded, hungry we look for another.

10.11 pm Found another bakra.

10.12pm My team lead, "I've parked my car in the 3rd floor."
I, "Is it?"
"Yeah its in the multi-level car park." (We have only one)
I, " Oh! Wow. Where else you would find 3rd floor if not in a muli floor building"

10.13 pm My Team lead bids adeiu and leaves. Walking in the rain, completely drenched he thinks "I'll be back"

Sania Mirza...

2005-04-08T16:43:00.000+05:30

So much for Sania Mirza. The rising star of the Indian tennis...
Some poeple never miss a chance and some never take a chance...
Some don't care ...

The lady has put India in top 100 tennis player map, even though its not a great feat but not trivial either. I guess they want to give credit to her for everything...!

It was a dark room...

2005-03-01T10:59:00.000+05:30

It was a dark room. Blizzards outside wrecked havoc. Chilling. Cold. Freezing. In the next room the fire in the fireplace was dancing to the tune of winds outside. Very often I could see the shadows on the opposite wall made by those dancing flames. Oh! It was such a lovely scene. And he was there. At the other far end of the long table. A table, which to me, looked like an entire expanse of a football field. Middle of the table was a candle stand sportively sporting 5 candles, neatly arranged into a spirally rising staircase. It was such a wonderful picture. Only if he could also see...

We were like brothers. No we were brothers.

We always were together. We swayed in the morning breeze together; enjoyed the lavish evening sun together. We cherished the star studded sky and the cool and comforting moonlight. We were like brothers. No. We were brothers. Hanging form the same family tree we saw the vagaries of life and the lives go by. Life bought to existence; babies born, children transforming into adults, adults fighting for something or other, and adults dying; life undone.

I still remember those birds... The sparrows who perched so close to us. Those parrots who used to come and nibble at apples kept next to us. Those owls hooting in the night, those kids sneaking in the farm trying to steal one fruit or the other.

His whispers still echo in my ears. The picture of his face, a face with a red splash, is still fresh in my memory. He was big. Too big than me. He was sweet. Too sweet than me. He was an apple of every eye. I always looked up to him for everything. It was him I wanted to be.

And then one day our curator, the lord of the place where we in lived took us, both of us, and transported us. Detached from the family tree, away from those simple pleasures of life, that sun, those stars, that moon, those birds... I was too sad. Dejected. It was him who gave me strength. It was he who told me life changes, and changes for better. "We all grow, and we all die. We all grow from our seeds. Without us everything would stagnate. We are part of the growth of entire universe. We all die. We leave space for more growth. A growth which is better than what we witnessed, a growth which will do this world better than what we could do. We all have roles to play, we play our roles and leave. Just like the Sun. It comes every morning to give us warmth. And then it grows to give us more wrath. What would happen if it stays for ever in any particular state. We would burn in its heat or else die for lack of it. So the Sun grows and dies and leaves. That's when the moon comes to give us the comfort and cool of the night. If moon stays forever we'll shiver and die due to the same good he was supposed to do to all of us. So does every other thing. They come serve their purpose and leave. And then come back again, to do a much better job, to play a much better role in this world than they did last time."

Yes. Maybe whatever he said was true. No it must be true. Or else why... It must be true. He has to come back stronger much wiser and to serve a purpose much better than what he did this time.

But for now, as I see. He lies there still. His red skin glowing in the candle light. That would not last long. I know. They cut him open in two pieces. And those two into two pieces. They were barbarians. They never though twice. Just sliced a knife through him.

I can still see his red skin glowing in the candle light. But now its loosing its shine. His flesh is now turning reddish, more reddish. Its rusting. All the iron in him is rusting. I guess he's already dead. Sure he is. I will follow him soon. I know.

It was a dark room. Blizzards outside wrecked havoc. Chilling. Cold. Freezing. In the next room the fire in the fireplace was dancing to the tune of winds outside. Very often I could see the shadows on the opposite wall made by those dancing flames. Oh! It was such a lovely scene. And he was there. At the other far end of the long table. A table, which to me, looked like an entire expanse of a football field. Middle of the table was a candle stand sportively sporting 5 candles, neatly arranged into a spirally rising staircase. It was such a wonderful picture. Only if he could also see...

And close to me I can see a health diet book of my owner, which somewhere reads...

An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

When GM takes on Microsoft

2005-02-28T14:03:00.000+05:30

DISCLAIMER: The blog owner bears no responsibility nor can he and does not assure the veracity of the statements; nor shall he be liable for any damages of any kind induced upon anyone in whatever form.

END READERS' AGREEMENT:
If you proceed beyond this, then you agree to not hold the blog owner liable for any damages of any kind to anything living or dead, person or corporation or anything on this earth.

One of the many forwards that reach me; I present to you one of those...

Now that you are here....

"
For all of us who feel only the deepest love and affection for the way computers have enhanced our lives, read on.

At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated, "If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon."

In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release
stating: If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics (and I just love this part):

1. For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash twice a day.

2. Every time they repainted the lines on the road, you would have to buy a new car.

3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you could continue. For some reason you would simply accept this.

4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.

5. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive - but would run on only five percent of the roads.

6. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single "This Car Has Performed An Illegal Operation" warning light.

7. The airbag system would ask "Are you sure?" before deploying.

8. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.

9. Every time a new car was introduced car buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.

10. You'd have to press the "Start" button to turn the engine off.
"

The forwards...

2005-02-25T16:00:00.000+05:30

With so many forwards, one for you...
Regular naps prevent old age... especially if you take them while driving.

Having one child makes you a parent; having two makes you are feree.

Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right andthe other is the husband!

They said we should all pay our tax with a smile. I tried - butthey wanted cash.

A child's greatest period of growth is the month after you'vepurchased new school uniforms.

Don't feel bad. A lot of people have no talent.

Don't marry the person you want to live with, marry the one youcannot live without...but whatever you do, you'll regret it later.

You can't buy love . . . but you pay heavily for it.

True friends stab you in the front.

Forgiveness is giving up my right to hate you for hurting me.

Bad officials are elected by good citizens who do not vote.

Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you gettired

My wife and I always compromise. I admit I'm wrong and she agreeswith me.

Those who can't laugh at themselves leave the job to others.

Ladies first. Pretty ladies sooner.

It doesn't matter how often a married man changes his job, hestill ends up with the same boss.

They call our language the mother tongue because the father seldomgets to speak.

Saving is the best thing. Especially when your parents have doneit for you.

Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools talkbecause they have to say something

Real friends are the ones who survive transitions between addressbooks

2005-02-16T10:50:00.000+05:30

Voilla! Analytical Learner... Blah! Blah!

To gauge yourself take the test!

Here are your survey results!

Your Cognitive Style Index is 46 which indicates that you are an Analytical learner.

This survey measured your Cognitive Style. Cognitive Style affects how you organize and process new information while learning.

Intuitive learners [scores of 0 to 38] are less concerned with detail. They have an open-ended approach to solving problems and work best without strict rules. They are in touch with their feelings and need to feel personally involved in their work.

Analytical learners [scores of 39 to 76] give attention to detail. They focus on facts and "hard data" and rely on what experts say. They are logical in their approach to learning and do things step-by-step. They excel in structured, well-organized learning situations.

Neutral learners [scores of around 38] can learn using both intuitive and analytic modes.

Thanks again for taking the time to complete the survey,

Elena

Managers in an autorickshaw

2005-02-03T17:46:00.001+05:30

It was raining in the morning day before yesterday. And I overslept. Woke complete 1 hour late than usual, missed my company cab and had to hire an autorickshaw to office. Rs. 70.00 down the drain. :(

A peculiar thing that I observed is that on every signalled crossing the autorickshaw driver killed the engine. And then just 2-3 seconds before the signal turned green he started the engine. I was amazed at the accuracy of his estimation. This was not a stand alone case but I observed the same thing at all the crossings. I put my brain to some rigorous work and dug into all the memories of travel in an autorickshaw and found that this was true for all aurtorickshaw drivers and at all crossings. Amazing.

Why don't all the managers undergo a trainning course on how to drive an autorickshaw, of duration 1 year or 6 months so that they can be better at estimation. They are pathetic are estimating how much time is required to finish a project. Way off the track. Or else what? I finished Harry Potter and the Order of pheonix and Da Vini Code in office, Half way through the Lord of the Rings trilogy...

Add to this that you can shout and swear at your manager, which you definitely cannot do in routine office life but can certainly do when he's a autorickshaw driver.

BTW this is does not in any way relate to my manager. He's a nice person very efficient and effective in all the things he does.

Does anyone of you people know him?

Sucking Itinerary

2005-01-28T14:37:00.000+05:30

Sometimes there's nothing better than reading google.groups. And for certain there's nothing great than finishing Harry Potter and Order of Pheonix in 2 days, sitting in my comfortable chair, sipping tea, good music playing with intermittent periods of checking mail.

And this one is icing on the cake. Doing all this in office.

But seriously this itinerary sucks, sucks big time.

In the elevator... it so happened

2005-01-13T15:39:00.000+05:30

In the elevator... it so happened...

Why are the managers the way they are. Not that they are very rude, bossy, overyfriendly or all of that sorts. In fact my manager is a mast manager. But sometimes...

For instance this other day after having lunch I was on my way back to my cubicle. My Mananger had been on a week's vacation and he had come back the same day. He took the same elevator I was in. After exchange of Hi. How was the vacation Blah...Blah which moreso was because there was nothing else to do in the small elevator.

At this point I'd make an OT (off - topic) observation. Ever noticed the elevator has an information inside. 13 persons only. XYZ kgs only. What amuses me is the fact that the lift doesn't even have enough space for 13 people to stand. Atmost 10 people can board the lift with their nose just a whisker awayfrom the other's! For once I thought that's an eskimo way of greeting which these people practise.
13 LOL. Only famished people.

Back to topic. So my manager asked me How's life? Pat came the reply Comfortable

The next day my team lead comes to me and says What did you say to him, that you have plenty of free time!

What? What else do you expect in answer, if you ask somebody How's life? OR is it should I say.
Life sucks. I'm in deep shit. Life's miserable. Add to it the peanuts that you pay. The f****** AC also doesn't work, the room tempreature is at 25 degrees. The food is terrible...

And we laughed a lot the entire day.
Even now you can hear a roar of laughter if somebody around asks How's Life?

The engineers with no TV to them...

2005-01-06T17:17:00.000+05:30

Ever been in front of that idiot box. Well plenty of times. Many hours of the day; in fact for one reason or the other, stuck up on one channel or the other.

I was also on one of those channels when I thought why is it so that there so less if not any programs dedicated to engineers. Are we the lost part of this habitable planet? Have we become a vestige? Or is it that we are those back room slaves who never get across that door?

Whatever be the reason , the fact still remains that there hasn't been anyengineer per se on the television. You'll find housewives trying to mess up their calm lives; doctors trying to somehow mess up with their patients so that they can get some more money out of him or else trying hard
to save a patient just in time; lawyers pacing up and down the court hall yelling on top of their voices to convince the judge that their client is not guilty. But never an engineer trying hard to solve the problem at hand, pulling his hairs to get the things right and enjoying the pleasure the
intellectual happiness, so to say, that he would get when his product gets ready.

Never.

The closet the television could get to engineers were Dr. Brown, the mad inventor who built a time machine out of a DeLorean car in Back to the Future; MacGyver, not an engineer but who seemed to have engineering skills; and Gyro Gearloose, Walt Disney's engineer/inventor.

To quote "The National Academy of Engineering, in a 1986 survey, confirmed that the public perceived engineers as self-absorbed, rigid, and possessing poor social skills. One respondent said engineers were social misfits with whom he would not want to be trapped in an elevator because they were difficult to communicate with. Little wonder that entertainment
writers steer clear of us except, perhaps, for comic relief."

Doesn't this look like a positive feedback system, with no chance of things settling down to something more than something transient. The people feel engineers to be self-absorbed, long haired, unkempt and greasy, rigid, cocooned rats like creatures who live and die in the holes they call as lab or work space. So keep the people away from what they 'fear'.

But I guess there's also an other side to it. People respond to and feel more comfortable with things they have had first hand experience with. Not that third party experience or narration is not interesting, but it all passes as gossip as something which never happened to them but nevertheless was equally engrossing, or else all those crime serials or crime buster
serials wouldn't have been popular. Anyways this is off the topic at hand. The viewers can identify with lawyers, doctors, housewives, cops and all the other pervasive professions. The engineer, and now allow me to broaden the horizon to include researchers, are not in any of those.

"Possessing poor social skills" I certainly don't agree. This is a sweepingly generalized statement and is grossly incorrect.

To this effect I would say that Discovery Channel, History Channel, National Geographic Channel to name a few, incidentally they are my favorites led by History Channel, have done a lot. Specially the History and Discovery Channel, I can smell some partisan behavior here, are the leader. With documentaries on engineering marvels, Wings, Modern Marvel, Boys Toys, Nokia innovations and so on and so forth they tell the world about what all engineering has and can do and with due exposure of engineers.

World form the other side...

2004-12-08T14:48:00.000+05:30

I never thought I would be placed in that situation so soon. Never had even
a vague idea about it.

It was sudden transformation. And it took a lot of courage. The new role
demanded a lot more responsibility and also the fear of what if
? When it came I had not thought it would come with so much
stealth.

I was enjoying my day at office. Having completed most of what I was
supposed to do; I was 2 weeks ahead of schedule. That made me suspect that
either I've improved or else the people who had estimated the time to
complete the project were pathetic, poor at estimation. Obviously being a
youngster in this young industry (merely 60 years old) I believed in the
latter. The former had no chance of acceptance. I had read somewhere
Thou know Thy the best. But at same time some words were resonating
Boss is always right . Whatever be the reason, the point is I was
ahead of schedule.

My project manager came to me and said Hi, LM. How's it going. For a
moment I thought what? What going? Confused beyond any more confusion,
perplexed I looked at him and said Comfortable. Comfortable!
Comfortable, what was supposed to be going went comfortably. I smiled at my
witty answer. Ok. So let me give you some work. For once I was very
excited, thought I might be asked to mentor the new trainee. No prizes for
guessing who (s)he was. I was being asked for last 2-3 weeks to prepare to
transform to a mentor's role. No doubts she looked beautiful.

Ok. Tomorrow 3.30 pm you take 3-4 interviews. What?
Interview! Shocked I was. I had never been on that side of the table. Have
always been the one whose ass was on fire. The interviewing panel drumming
on my bums. Hmmm. You answered this question. How about this one. Gee I
knew you couldn't! I took me a while to brush together my lost senses
and I replied, interview, well that's a difficult task and I don't think I'm
ready for it now. Oh! It shouldn't be difficult for you. You have been in
interviews. You'll do a good job. ??!

I am still as of writing very scared, what if. What if the person knows
everything I ask? Does it mean he's good or I've lost my edge? What if (s)he
doesn't answer any question, does it mean that he's bad or I'm worse in
taking an interview? What if I find him/her good enough to be recommended
and the other panel members do not, does it mean I've failed in making
judgment? What if I found him/her good enough and recommend, (s)he is hired
and then fails to perform, does it mean I've failed?

Yes and No.

Maybe some questions don't have binary answers.

Let's wait for tomorrow.

Sometime it has to be a first time, so why not it be at the first
opportunity itself!

Few good things in life

2004-12-03T21:55:00.000+05:30

Past few weekends have been great for me. Specially the last week. Lot many good happened to me and to people around me.

My cousin took the last step to enter the black hall. The Passing> Out Parade (POP) . He's now going to Indian Military Academy, Dehradoon. After two years he'll be a commissioned officer in Indian Army. He'll wear that green uniform then. And I'll ask him to salute his elder brother and have a snap taken. He's the same boy who used to wash his feet every time he went outside. And now he's typical> army man.

My school time friend, we are still in contact even though its been more than 10 years since we met for the first time and 3 years since we last met. He was posted somewhere in Assam and now he's been transferred to the Pune air base. He's been put into the Sukhoi squadron. He was earlier with Mig21 as far as I remember. He stood first in his entire batch of air force pilots. I just can't wait to go to Pune and see him as well as the Sukhoi. In fact the excitement of seeing the bird is more than that of seeing him.
One of my 6 PG (Post grad not paying guest!) time friends is seeing girls and will probably settle down with one of them. He's getting married in next 3-4 months.

This weekend we cooked food at home and the demand was for pumpkin (kaddu) and poori, a deep fried bread kind. We made delicious pumpkin dish and 30 poori's to be savored by 3 of us.

Last week there was not much work load, so I could browse a lot. Everyday 6pm to 8pm I swam across sites, urls.

Had great fun.

This kind of week should repeat more too often.