Confusing words...

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...

The Wrong side or the right side?

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.

Virgin Airlines...

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.

Cry of a famished soul

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.

The Spineless creature

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.

Between the Dollar and the Rupee Tussle

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.

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!

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...

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"

Words of Wisdom

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

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

Family and Friends ...

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...

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.

It is OK

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

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.

Nightmares of a Bachelor

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.

Being spied upon....

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)

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.

And Bangalore dies once again ...

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

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??

Pointless point?

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.