It was a dark room...

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

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...

With so many forwards, one for you...

1. Regular naps prevent old age... especially if you take them while driving.


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


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


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


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


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


7. 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.


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


9. True friends stab you in the front.


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


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


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


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


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


15. Ladies first. Pretty ladies sooner.


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


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


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


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


20. Real friends are the ones who survive transitions between addressbooks

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

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

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

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...

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...

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

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.

Worst Case Scenarios

Having planned for a week long vacation with my family almost a month before, worst things start happenning.

Just before start of vacation there's network outage in the company, I cannot do any work and the work pressure mounts.

One day before I have to leave the network is alive again and to add to my woes there's a deluge of mails asking me to do "some" more work! That day I stayed back in the office till 5 in the morning to finish most of what I could finish. The vacation seemed to be too much far, too much needed.

The next day I come to office, in half sleep, with my luggage, work for few more hours,well actually 6, before I plan to leave and catch my train. I meet my Lead and say "I gotta go, have train in 1 hour". And he looks at me with hollowed eyes. "Are you leaving" with an expression on his face which suggested "Is it necessary to go?". I make a sorry face, an expression that suggested "What? I couldn't hear it. Anyways I couldn't understand it. You know I as planning for it for last 1 month" "BYE".

I reach the railway station.

I'm very tired and want to sleep. Habitual of the habit (!) I browse through the reservation list to see how many F's are there in the list. None of my interest. Too old or too young. There is a group of students in the next coupe. They make my life hell. Playing Antakshri all night. Yelling at the top of their voice, the act they fondly called as singing, they ruined my night. Humble request falls falt on its face. Its already 1 in the morning; I had boarded the train at 5 in the evening. I fell asleep. The cries and yells were now acting as lullabies.

Morning 5'o clock. Its time to alight the train. Destination.

2 days into the vacation.

Accusotmed to doing something in the office, being busy, I end up in a shock. Boredom, nothing to do. The evenings turn into a torture. I am forced to watch those mega soap operas on Sony Television, Start Plus... all those which mysteriously always start with alphabet K. Kyonki Saas bh kabh bahu thi, KKusum, Kahani ghar ghar ki. Amazingly all the serials seem to have same cast same plot and possibly same ending!

Twice in a day I start a discussion with my uncle and loose the battle. But like Rana Pratap who ate bread made out of grass but didn'tsurrender, I continue my war.

The TV remote control malfunctions unannounced. I can't watch WildOn or Poor Man's Bikini Beach on AXN. To those who find it difficult to understand why, we in INDIA still avoid doing some things infront of elders, which might be as mundane as smoking, even when we are parents of dozen children!

I go to a VCD/DVD shop to get some movies to watch. The store (?) has none except "Bride and Prejudice" and that too in hindi "Balle Balle: Amrtisarto LA". I thought "Dheere Dheere yahan se sarak le".

Come Diwali and I am in no mood to fire some crackers. "Loudmouth, what happened no crackers?" For once I had a good feeling of refraining from polluting the air, not burning those fancy fireworks, the products of an industry which employs a lot many children. Well this was a ephemeral feeling. But those raid of questions certainly made me feel like grabbing all the crackers from everybody I could catch and fire them all at onego.

Finally, Diwali and come a lot many invitations for dinner and lunch. Eating is my favourite hobby pastime and also possibly the only kind of work Ienjoy. In fact I at 3kgs of bitter gourd (karela) in this one week.I'm so fond of it. The connoisseur of food had a good time eating all the dishes and that too in huge quantities.

Back to usual. Same old food served by company caterer, same old cubicle...

And so was born the legend ...

Not so long ago in a non-descript village in countryside people did talked about this Legend, nicknamed DD. The old called him Debar Donst but the youths preferred to call him Dare Devil.
The children couldn't understand what it was, nor were the stories of this DD narrated to them so often. This village, like many other of kinds, had a cemetery not very far from the village limits. A cemetery not like other cemeteries. This had an eerie silence surrounding it, a cast of ill omens. This cemetery lived in the shadows of the dead.
For ages grandparents told their grandchildren, mothers frightened their children if the kids didn't have their glass of milk or the meal finished. Going out in the night was considered darest of the dares. Bedtime stories were told before the sun settled in its nest in west. Doors were closed before moon lightened up. People asleep before the stars came out. This was the village with a burial ground, which used to become the playground of the dead. So was said and told to others. Nobody knew how is started. Nobody ever questioned. Nobody ever dared to venture out and find the truth. Like the universal truth the dictum of gray haired people was accepted and honored. But as with any other place, as with any other story, there was one called DD.

Though he wasn't too brave and daringthough he wasn't too smart to be an outright maverick, he had many dares under his belt. Having traveled a lot to many distant lands across the seven oceans he didn't subscribe to the ghost stories his parents told him and their parents told to them and their parents told to their parents.
At a very young age he had traveled to far off lands of long eyed people. It was told that the country, called China, was full of dragons fire spitting beasts that could fly. Strange was the land and strange were its people. DD had also been to someplace where everywhere there was ice. As far as one could see it was ice. He called it the land of the Queen. Such strange were the ways and equally strange was DD's life. When DD came back from his tour he revolted against the dictates of the village council and the fear of the cemetery. He said he would go to the cemetery and come back alive to prove that everybody was wrong all along. They were captivated by the imaginations of their ancestors and riveted by their own imaginations and uncanny conclusions.

That day he waited till it was dark. A lunar eclipse. Even the stars didn't dare to have a peek at what was being done. An old man already on the verge of death was asked to keep a watch on DD that he did what he said he would do. He entered the cemetery roamed around. Prayed at his mother's grave, talked something to the grave of his neighbor and then started to return. The ghosts as if were woken up by his prayers and his talking were waiting to pounce on him and shred him to tatters. The moment he got up from the grave he felt his trousers being pulled from behind. Somebody was holding the end and pulling it. GHOSTS! The kingdom of DEAD was indeed alive. He saw a flash of light cross the sky. His eyes reddened, he started sweating profusely, breathing very hard. DD felt strong pain near his left shoulder. Someone was pressing hard on his chest. Someone was trying to gorge out his thumping heart. He had a cardiac arrest and he died on the spot. The old man saw everything. He was in tears, shaking as he witnessed this gory act. He had seen DD pray and talk to so many graves. He has seen him walking and now he was seeing him dead. The ghosts had feasted on him. It was more than what he could endure. The he had been a witness to all, the kid growing into a man until now was, witness to all his mischiefs and now witness to his beastly drama of death.

He had also seen his trousers get entangled in that thorny bush. In the morning the villagers took his body and buried it in the same place he had fallen dead.

And so was born the legend of DD, Dare Devil for some and Daring Dude for others who had challenged the creatures of the other world and laid down his life.Even now going out in the night is considered darest of the dares. Bedtime stories are told before the sun settles in its nest in west. Doors are closed before moon lightens up. People go to sleep before the stars come out.

END.

Different flavors of Suicide

Agreement: If you read beyond this point you agree to be 18 years or
older.

"This seems to be surreal but nice"

Have you ever tried committing suicide? Yes, then you are pathetic
looser to not have tried again without making all those mistakes! Go back to
design board and plan a fool proof and "effective"
way.

No, I knew it or else you wouldn't have been reading this, you would have
been working on a new plan.


To explain a few niceties about suicide and types of suicides:


1. Suicide. Plain and simple like those you read in
newspaper and see in movies. No thrill, no excitement in committing suicide,
color-less, flat. Way of the losers or laz(y)-ers.


2. Auto Suicide . This one is more interesting. Don't
compare this with the Biography and Auto-biography analogy, as then you'd be
grossly confused, like those Theory Of Relativity Concepts.
Auto-suicide differs from suicide in the intent for suicide.
Suicide is out of desperation, with hopes in abysmally low state, life in
deep shit, in stinky gutter (well almost all gutters are stinky, though I
never verified); it is more stable and persistent, both the feeling and the
aftereffects! Precursors to Auto-Suicide are more temporal in nature. This
chain of self-sustaining desires can be initiated by both good and bad
feelings; the research has mostly shown it to be good feelings, willingness
of being happy. Auto-Suicide attempts are most effective and rarely
does the deceased person haunt the woods or whatever he would otherwise have
liked to haunt


3. Automated (Auto) Suicide . This term is bequeathed
to the English language by the new world driven by technology. With
automation spreading its wings into every conceivable domain of operation,
suicide, a field, which required extreme courage and determination, is not
left untouched. To help those who fail on both fronts there are Automated
(Auto) Suicide packages, 100% result oriented and very dirt cheap,
neglig(ee) -ble rates of failures, available off the shelf at a very low and
affordable cost. Here the readers have the freedom of asking me "Why does
money come into picture?" Loot, plunder get the cash or else steal the
package itself and who cares what they do after You've used the services??
Why Kamakazi pilots wear helmets?? Effortless, is what the promoters
say.


4. Third person Suicide Murder is a euphemism for
this.



This post is dedicate to Brayandranath

Test of Macroni as Lunch Diet

One day this week we were served a special salad. Macroni Salad.
Waiting for our turn to serve us some, my colleague turned friend
and I started talking about this new dish. Actually he coined this term
"Test of Macroni as Lunch Diet". To me it looked like as if somebody had
drilled into Maggi noodles, boiled it and then zoomed in it and
served it. As we waited for our turn we saw that most of people, who had
served themselves lavish quantities of Macroni Salad, take it as is
to dump in waste bags. We got suspicious but decided lets test it out. Being
the gourmet we are, we served ourselves plenty of it, looked nice the way it
was kept in the bowl. Slimy looking curved things with black patches on it,
more like as if somebody had taken the spinal chord of a goat, pulled out
everything inside it just keeping the protective tissue sheath, washed it in
an antiseptic and served it for eating. A perfect Chinese dish.


A thought just flew by, What if they were actually some kind of insects,
strange creatures something like maggots, which would suddenly come to life
and start crawling on the table; What if they grew all of a sudden with
their tentacles closing in on everybody first me and then my unfortunate
friend. And then say to their less fortunate friends "Hey! Those fresh,
nicely dressed humans tasted well. Real Good. Burrp. Burrp"


"Move your ass you day dreamer!" yelled my friend. The (un)usual research
process started. First came the visual inspection. I need not comment on it.
Then the taste.


Eeeh! Pathetic. That's all we could say. It seemed to us that they wanted to
dispose off some stale Marconi so they dressed it up as salad!



We then puked on the seats of all the cars in the parking our lot
(exaggerated event) to our heart content, or the 'seats' content!


Test of Macroni as Lunch Diet failed miserably.

The other day I was reading a novel about a student, a country bumpkin, from a nondescript town in India going to America for higher studies. This is what he wrote to his brother about his first flight to America.

nZai.

Beloved younger brother,

    Greetings to Respectful Parents. I am hoping all is well with health and wealth. I am fine at my end. Hoping your end is fine too. With God’s grace and Parents’ Blessings I am arriving safely in America and finding good apartment near University. Kindly assure Mother that that I am strictly consuming vegetarian food only in restaurants though I am not knowing if cooks are Brahmins. I am constantly remembering Dr. Verma’s advice and strictly avoiding American women and other unhealthy habits. I hope Parents’ Prayers are residing with me.

    Younger Brother, I am having so many things to tell you I am not knowing where to start. Most surprising thing about America is it is full of Americans. Everywhere Americans, Americans, big and white, it is little frightening. The flight from New Delhi to New York is arriving safely thanks to God’s Grace and Parents’ Prayers and mine too. I am not able to get to go to bathroom whole time because I am sitting in corner seat as per Revered Grandmother’s wish. Father is rightly scolding that airplane is flying too high to have good view. Still please tell her I have done needful.

    But, brother, in next two seats are sitting two old gentle ladies and if I am getting up they are put in lot of botheration so I am not getting up for bathroom except when plane is stopping for one hour at London. Many foods are getting served in carts but I am only eating cashew nuts and bread because I am not knowing what is food and what is meat. I am having good time drinking 37 glasses of Coca-Cola.

    They are rolling down a screen and showing film but I am not listening because air hostess ladies are selling headphones for 2 dollars which is Rs. 26 and in out beloved Jajau town we can sit in balcony seats in Regal Talkies for only Rs. 3. I am asking lady if they are giving student discount but she is too busy. I am also asking for more Coca-Cola but she is looking like she is weeping and walking away. I think perhaps she is not understanding proper English.

    Then I am sleeping long time after London and when I am waking it is like we are flying over sea of lights. Everywhere, brother, as far as I am seeing there are lights lights. It is like God has made carpet of lights. Then we are landing in New York and plane is going right up to the door so that we are not having to walk in cold. I must say Americans are very advanced. And as I am leaving airplane, air hostess is giving me one more can of Coca-Cola. Her two friends are also with her but why they are laughing so much I do not know. I think Americans are strange but friendly people in their hearts. I hope she was not laughing for racial. Perhaps she was feeling shy earlier.

    Then I am going to long bathroom. As I am leaving I am making first friend in America. This is gentleman named Joe, who is standing at door and as I am opening it he is holding out hand so I am shaking it and telling him my name and he is telling me his. I am telling him if he is ever coming to Jajau he can ask for National hair Oil Factory. If I have not returned from Higher Studies please tell Father that if a black gentleman named Joe is visiting Jajau he may kindly do needful.

    In this way I feel each and every one of us is serving as Ambassador of out beloved Motherland. Joe is doubtful I feel because he says “Far out, man, far out,” but I am reassuring him that India is only 16 hours away by plane and that is not very far. I think he is accepting this because he is not saying anything any more.

    Next I go to place marked “Baggage” as Father has advised and suddenly place I am sitting starts to move throwing me. It is like python we once saw in forest, only rattling and with luggage bouncing on its back and sometimes leaping to attack passengers. I am also throwing my self on bag before it is escaping. I think if I am not wrestling it down it would revert to plane and back home India. I am only joking of course.

    Before this I am meeting very friendly gentleman at Immigration desk. I do not know why all relatives had warned against this man, because he is so friendly. He is talking English strangely but is having kind heart because he is asking me about nuts and I am saying that I am liking very much and eating many on plane. “Totally, totally nuts,” he is saying, which I feel American expression for someone fond of cashew nuts.
Before this he is showing friendliness by asking “How is it going?” I am telling him fully and frankly about all problems and hopes, even though you may feel that as American he may be too selfish to bother about decline in price of hair oil in Jajau town. But, brother, he is listening very quietly with eyes on me for ten minutes then we are having friendly talk about nuts and he is wanting me to go.

    At Customs, brother, I am getting big shock. One fat man is grunting at me and looking cleverly from small eyes. “First Visit?” he is asking, “Yes,” I am agreeing. “Move on,” he is saying making chalk marks on bags. As I am picking up bags he is looking directly at me and saying “Watch your ass.”

    Now, brother, this is wonderful. How is he knowing we are purchasing donkey? I think they are knowing everything about everybody who is coming to America. They are not allowing anybody without knowing his family and financial status and other things. And we are only buying donkey two days before my departure. I think they are keeping all information in computers. Really these Americans are too advanced.

    But, brother, not I am worrying. Suppose this is CIA keeping watch or else how they can know about our donkey? Anyway please do not tell Mother and Father as they are worrying , but lock all doors and windows. If CIA wants to recruit me to be spy in Jajau, I will gladly take poison before betraying our Motherland.

  
 Then I am going out and cousins are waiting and
receiving me warmly. I will write soon after settling down.

                                                                                                                                                Your brother.

What amused me so much was that this guy’s respect for his Parents and Grandparents, even their prayers, and Motherland and everything other related to his Motherland is also reflected in this writing. Did you notice the capitalized words? The next hilarious thing was imagining this person at the immigration counter, who out of courtesy asked our fellow “How is it going?” and our hero pours out all that he had to say about everything. The immigration person in bewilderment says “Man you are nuts” and our hero says, “Yes I like nuts.” I rolled over the floor like anything. But the king of show was ass and CIA keeping watch even on the donkey?

Definitely a wonderful reading.

Aboriginals Unknown

Aboriginals Unknown

"I believe certainty is simply an illusion. At one point or another, we all indulge in this illusion because we need some sort of order to justify our actions. How can we put one foot in front of the next if we're always afraid of the probability we might stub our toe, step on a nail, or trip on a stone? I'm fairly sure I'll be brushing my teeth in the morning, but I don't KNOW this for certain -- I could die of a stroke or a heart attack in the middle of the night, or the Tooth Fairy in a fit of rage might come by and rob me of all my teeth. Uncertainty is an inherent quality of every particle, action, and moment in our world. It's a poetic way for The Creator (whichever you believe in) to make things a little more interesting for us.

So if you're certain that you WILL BECOME the President of the United States, a movie star, a porn star, a chicken farmer, a computer engineer, whatever, then I'll say you probably will get closer than most, and I'll even say you will probably succeed, but maybe you won't.

Then again, is that really so terrible?

In a world dominated by results, numbers, money, efficiency, and the need to succeed, it's natural for us to be raised thinking in these terms. But it's not the only way to think.What we forget as adults is what we knew so inherently as children. You might argue this point, but I believe that as children, we had a totally different mechanism for enjoying life. As children, our pleasures were rooted in the act of discovery: learning to play a new sport, finding Easter eggs during scavenger hunts, figuring out how a Rubik's cube works, or eating ice cream for the first time. If you don't believe me, try observing a baby for just a few minutes. Infants have a miraculous, indomitable spirit for learning -- they will gaze in wonder at even the most mundane of things, simply because everything they see is new to them. We see less and less of this as we grow older, and that is exactly why "the heart of a child" becomes so endearing, valuable, and scarce with coming age.

As we grow older, we begin placing everything in terms of a goal -- we want that promotion, new car, bowling trophy, trophy wife, etc. Although not so terrible in and of itself, these goals can become mindless compulsions. We forget the REASON we wanted these things in the first place, becoming lost in an obsessive delirium, when all we really wanted was to be happy. I myself have fallen into this trap many times, and I still don't know all the reasons for it. Maybe it's our competitive spirit -- we must win to prove our worth. Maybe it's our desperate need to define ourselves against the billions of other people trying to define themselves. Or maybe it's some more primal desire -- instead of urinating on trees, we build up stockpiles of accolades, expensive toys, and superficial trinkets that we hope others will recognize as status. The exact mechanism isn't important; it's good enough that we recognize this aspect of our lives.

So I'll ask you now, when was the last time you had fun? I don't mean the last time you were in a drunken stupor that helped you forget your troubles. I mean some genuine, wholesome fun that let you laugh out loud without embarassment or self-consciousness. If you haven't had that kind of fun in more than 24 hours, then go to your best friend, drag him/her out to watch a movie, grab a cup of coffee, play some games, learn something new. And if you don't have that kind of time on your hands, then why not put on your favorite song and dance -- no one's watching, so you can do it in your underwear if you want. You'll feel happier afterwards, even if you didn't think that was possible. My point is, you don't need a reason or purpose in every little thing you do. Sometimes it's just enough to do things because they're fun -- children do this without a moment's hesitation."

Is he smart ?

Looking at his son, whom he was seeing for the first time, "Is he smart?" Forrest asked Jenny. And I had wet eyes with tears running down my cheeks, as I watched Forrest Gump for the nth time.

Lieutenant, this is my Jenny!

The unforgettable, lost Voice

I was new in the city. Felt lonely for first few days. It so happened that one day loitering on one of those most frequented by females street I heard a group of people listening very eagerly to what a lady had to say. I couldn't see who that lady was. Not withstanding the fact that I normally do not listen over shoulders or evesdrop on others, I got immensly curious about the speaker. The speaker had built an aura aorund herself. Everybody present heard as there was no tomorrow, this is going to be the first and the last!

The speaker probably was all too concious of the listener's emotions, was putting in a lot of energy and excitement in what she had to say. I was glued to the road. The voice had certianly enchanted me. Some kind of hypnotization, maybe. As the primary motive of being on that road lost it's very source of being high in priority I returned back home.

Lazily turning in bed on that sleep deprived night, my thoughts inadverently returned again and again, involuntarily to the speaker. She had so much charm in her speech. The speaker was certainly a good orator, not that I'm a very good critic of speakers, but the speaker was awsome. Or else how can one make a group of so many listen so eagerly?

Next day I again went to that most frequented by females street, although this time it was more to see if the speaker was there and to listen her. The priorities had now reshuffled and reorganized and now listening to this no face speaker gained high priority. Good fortunes that day. The speaker was again there and with the same corwd.

I realised that I had fallen fatally in love with the voice. Not the speaker. How I wished I could hear her voice everyday. How mcuh I wished every morning I could her voice, the first thing in the morning. What if my alarm clock instead of yelling in its irritating tone I could have her voice in it, a soothing pleasureable and once more kind of call! How much I had wished that the first Good morning and the last Good night was her's. Why not my whole life be stacked with her voice anywhere and everywhere.

Fatal attractions of last kind.

Then Gods favoured me. It so happened that what ever I thought of was turning out to be true. I woke up and the first voice I heard was her. I could sense her so close that I could feel her lungs pump air into her vocal chords. I could listen to her daily 24/7.

2 years have passed since then. I still like to hear her but the vigourous intensity of want has died. I still like to hear her but now it stands last in the priorities. I still hear her but to kill time. She still rejuvinates me but not to the extent she used to do earlier. For me she has lost her edge.

Sunaina Lal. Radio Jockey (RJ). Radio City @ 91 FM.

Ghosts. I’m screwed. My life in deep shit!

So what happens when a soul is desperate? Desperate for everything. Say craving for anything that can exist on earth. Deep craving. This is what happened to me and one of my friends. We thought a lot about it. We cannot necessarily get all what we seek.

And finally we’ll die at age of 60 half satisfied; more the years more the desperation and as many more desires; shorter the life lesser the desperation, lesser the desires. Buddy, why not start dope, cigarettes and all that stuff. This way we can cut short our life! Suicide was never an option. It takes too much of courage to do so. If you do not believe me then see one of the suicide videos (shot by a Russian couple), you can download them from Kazaa. Even the mere thought of it the beats the shit out of me! Moreover we never wanted to die as cowards but as knights in shining armor who unfortunately died in their quest.

Hmmm.

Murder each other? Nah. We are not killers. Wraparound. Dope cigarettes blah blah… All that which cuts short your life by few seconds every time you relish them.

How does that help? Well it’s simple. Either me or my friend would die earlier. We’d become ghosts, for some of our desires were unfulfilled when we breathed our last. The one who becomes the ghost would kill the other or drive him to the limit so that the desire to get killed kills him. A heart attack. Something. Something fatal. But, wait a minute.

Darn, that suspicion! No matter how good friend we arte this thing never bids adieu.

What if after becoming ghost my friend doesn’t come to my rescue? What if he doesn’t kill me?

I’m screwed. My life in deep shit.

A Tribute!

We brought them home young. They were brother and sisters. In their clan nobody was brother to any sister. I use the term to identify the fact that they were born to the same mother and see their relationship in the way we see in our world. Both were beautiful naughty little fellows. When we brought them home I too was a child, a little child. So I had company. We used to play together, go for a walk together. Do everything except some things, together. When I used to come back from school and later on vacation from college they used to jump on me and my first day used to pass being with them. I loved them so much.

He was macho man type. Chasing all the boys and girls in the neighborhood. Chasing and yelling at the top of his voice every vehicle that honked more than necessary. She was more homely type. Every morning before sunrise she would come and sneak into my blanket and sleep close to me. I could feel her breath. Ah! Bad-Breath. Both were very fond of milk, mangoes and green vegetables. They’d eat any vegetable, of course if they’d like it!

Some years later he, the one known for his notoriety in the neighborhood, one who would loiter around with those of his likes, contracted a contagious communicable disease. The docs told it was some kind of skin infection. We never wanted to do so but had no other choice to save him from all the misery and also save us. We had to mercy kill him.

Now she feels all too lonely. Mom and dad are at office and she feels all alone at home. I can feel how happy she feels when we all come back home. She never leaves us; and gets very upset when she finds we are going out for a couple of days and not taking her with us.

She is getting old and would die soon. I already miss him and would soon miss her too.

My pets.
Tuffy and Tipsy