Mea Culpa .. Confessions of a Non-Existent Mind

Season 2

2008-05-12T16:35:00.006+04:00

Finally for all you people who cared to wait.

The new version of my blogs are out.

I have learnt that is better to keep blogs relevant to a particular topic. Hence,

The Friday Cook : (or The memoirs of Dr. Frankenstein if he cared to cook). A place where I can put up stuff that made it through my palate on one day of the week I cook. If I blogged about it, it means I'm still alive!

Curd-Rice Chronicles : The place where I write about the world as I see it. An extension of The Life of A KS. In case you're wondering why it's curd rice, you haven't been to South India.

An Ad Blog : Haven't thought of a name for this one yet.

Picture Blog : Inspired by a friend. Nice place, where I can track events by pictures

Let me know what y'all think!

Taking it Up A Notch

2008-01-20T11:27:00.000+04:00

Hey people,
It's time to move to Season Two.

The Life Of A KS is getting bigger, better and more user-friendly.

While the attempt is always on to provide great content, it's time we opened up the hood and tweaked the performance a bit.

I'm really excited about this. I have already started testing the prototype and so far it looks great.

I can't let anything out about what I'm doing. Stay tuned!

My Address in Sharjah

2008-01-15T19:02:00.000+04:00

My address is:

#7, Vivekananda Street,
Dubai Cross Road,
Dubai Main Road,
Dubai.

Confused? Watch this video. I have written the subtitles. People who don't understand Tamil, thank me. Literal Translation follows. Adjust OK Please!

(Music starts)
Vadivelu (VV) in the 'ouch' blue costume and his Chamcha (CC) carrying the umbrella enter.

Approaches Charpoy-Warmer (CW)

VV: Yelay, small brother! Some new boy has come from Dubai, right? Where did he stay? Bagirein-a?
CC: (Poooosh)Why is he spraying .. that's the twist .. read on!
CW: I don't know
VV: Sarjava?
CC: (Pooooosh)
CW: I don't know
VV: Abidhabi-a?
CC: (Poooosh)
CW :(Getting angry) I'm sitting here. You're asking me? Go ask that tea-shop wallah!
VV: Hold the cigarrete
CW: It's hot!
CC: It's hot? Push and sit (Move aside).
VV: Okaaay .. why are you getting angry. I have stayed there and I'm coming to say I know some ten places, for that you are getting romba .. romba angry? Only answer what I ask have asked you, you butters!
CC: Big brother. That's him

Parthiban entry with not so subtle exposure of an unshaved leg
VV: It's him?
CC: Yes big brother
VV: Halo! How are you? Salm Alaykum
PB: (delicately adjusting his moustache) Has he really come from Dubai? I have heard that there are Sheiks in Dubai, could there be cracks like him also?
PB: Salam a lekum
VV: . Small brother! One minute. Come here.
VV: Okaaaay.. these boys are talking like you were in Dubai or something. Where did you stay in Dubai? Bagirein-a?
PB: Um..er.. no
VV: Sarja?
PB: no
VV: Abidhabi-a?
PB: (Parthiban starts) In Dubai
VV: Aa pa pa cha. I know you stayed in Dubai. Where did you stay in Dubai?
PB: (Great brain at work, people!!!) In Dubai, near the main road, next to the bus stand.
VV: In Dubai, bus stand? You're saying it like some Usilampatti bus stand? I am asking you where is the bus stand in Dubai?
PB: (One more) Er.. do you know where all the Dubai buses come and stop? There.
VV: Aa va va
PB: (standing up) This is all too much nakal . Tell me the address of the place you stayed in Dubai.
PB: Errr..
VV: I'm telling you to tell me
PB: (Here it is) #6, Vivekananda Street, Dubai Cross Road, Dubai Main Road, Dubai!
VV: Hey! Hey! Turn it and tell me (actually Vadivelu says repeat it, but it can be interpreted in Tamil as reverse and say)
PB: Dubai, Dubai Main Road, Dubai Cross Road, Vivekananda Street, #6
VV: Why did you tell me the whole thing in reverse?
PB: You told me to say it and I did (escape)
VV: Oho! That 'reverse'? A-ha. This guy seems to be a smart guy.
VV: Ay ay. Stop man. What did you say - Vivekananda street? When did Vivekananda come there?
PB: Vivekananda finished studies and suffered because he couldn't find a job. So he came to Dubai and saw work (worked) for 5 years. So they kept his name.
VV: Vivekananda saw work there? Which company did he see work in? Wait man! Let him lie, which company did you see work for?
PB: Mannar and Company?
VV: huh?
PR: Get lost you Guava! Am I marriage-prize Thangavel to do fraud like that? Right. Which company did you see work for?
VV: I worked for K..k..k..Kekraan Mekaran company
PR: Oh! Kekraan Mekraan company. (aside) If you look at his face, it looks like a western toilet, would he have done a collector's job there?
VV: Who are you talking to over there?
PB: You were cleaning toilets over there right?
VV: ba ba ba what man? You are talking bad things in front of a small kid
PB: Don't come near me. Bad smell is hitting me.
CC: Pooooosh
PB: Oh that's why you are hitting scent?
CC: Yes big brother
PB: What? Yes? Get lost you guava!
CC: (pushing Parthiban to a wall covered in cow shit) Lord! Rasa! Lord! My sweet! My gold! How did you know that I was looking at a job in a toilet cleaning company?
PB: So really you saw work in a toilet cleaning company?
VV: Oh so you asked punch-pointedly? (You were guessing?) I myself babbled?
PB: This called Putting and Getting
VV: What does that mean?
PB: Give and take policy
VV: What yelavu policy? I have told these town-people and my wife a different version
PB: What?
VV: I have told them Building Contractor. Don't spoil that respect and make me stink in the street
PB: Ay-chi! Take your hand away. Did you clean camels there? It's smelling so much?
PB: Move back. I'm telling you to move back
VV: How can I move back more than this?
PB: Right. What is this Jingi-chan, jingi-chan, blue color lungi? Seeing this, two cows have died and four men have lost their eyesight.
VV: Really? When did this ...
PB: First answer what I asked
VV: Ya ya ya, this is Dubai dress
PB: Dubai dress has to be put in Dubai, why are you wearing it in Tamil Nadu?
VV: A yo yo yo from now on I will not wear it. I will not wear it
PB: So you'll remove it and be seen with your loin cloth, in a town where there are ladies? Slipper will tear!
VV: Aiyeye! I didn't say anything like that!
PB: Then what are you going to do?
VV: I said I'll wear another dress. Dhothi-shirt.
PB: You'll wear a Dhothi-shirt and ask me where I worked in Dubai, right?
VV: Aiyeye! I will never ask it! I will never speak of it! You see.
PB: From now on, doing this style, getting one guy to spray stink-medicine on you
VV: Awwwuuuuu (classic Vadivel 'I'm-screwed' sound)
PB: If you do all this, I'll construct a toilet and make you clean it, careful!
VV: Aiyayo Aiyayo. No need. Don't keep me in that job.
PB: Will you ask where is Dubai?
VV: I won't ask. I won't ask.
PB: Where is Dubai?
VV: Dubai coming near Erode, near Tutukudi
PB: That's how you should say it. Go.
VV: Then, do you have some change-job (small job) in your house? Tell me, I'll look after it
PB: The toilet needs cleaning
VV: Aw

Did I mention Parthiban lives next door?

Sharjah Under Water

2008-01-15T17:44:00.001+04:00

What would be the last things that you would purchase in Sharjah, a place that's bang in the middle of the desert?

a. An umbrella
b. A Raincoat
c. A Heater

Well, the correct answer is Secret Option d - All of the above.

It's been raining like crazy where in Dubai and Sharjah for 2 days now. The weather agency predicts no let-up in the rainfall for the next 2 days. I think this will turn out to be worse that Mumbai 26th July 2005. Sample these articles:

Dubai: More than 500 accidents were reported in Dubai by 10am on Tuesday, according to Dubai Police’ s Control and Command Room.

Dubai: The met office warns of heavy rainfall on Wednesday morning and has advised motorists to drive carefully as more roads will be partially submerged by the continuing deluge. The rain in Dubai will surpass the highest recorded over the years of 81.9mm in January. Since Monday evening the skies have dumped 52mm of rain on Dubai and 34.6mm more was recorded since 4am and 1pm on Tuesday. The reason for the heavy rain is due to the low pressure system, which is parked over the emirates, and adding to that is a trough, a depression, which has accentuated the unstable weather.

Dubai: Dubai police control room received emergency calls from more than 10,000 people on Tuesday morning.The police has asked people not to call unless it’s an emergency.

Here are some pictures that I took during the day with my trustee phone.

Al-Wahda 8:30 am

A street near my house. I'm just going to work. Check out the waves. You could hang five on them! Surf's Up!!

The view outside my office 9:30 a.m.

No we do not have a swimming pool attached to our office. That's a road; at least, it used to be a road. I love the trees reflecting in the water.

The evening before the storm

They say before the worst things happen, you get to see the most beautiful things. That's what happened here.

Bad thing happened 3 p.m.

Water quietly tiptoes into our office. That's our Welcome mat. It just learnt that it could float in water.

I've seen enough! 4:00 p.m.

That's it. Pack up! Scoot! We locked down our office and headed home

Al Wahda 4:30 p.m.

Back home! That's Liberty Signal. Pretty Ironic Road sign, isn't it?

It looks like its saying, go this or that way, you're gonna get s.o.a.k.e.d. buddy!

So I was stuck in rain in the morning, had to wade through ankle-deep water to reach my bus, reached my office to find that water entered our office and godown, walked back in knee-deep water.

And they say tomorrow will be worse.

Simon .. er .. Bush go back!

2008-01-15T17:12:00.000+04:00

And you thought the Arabs were quiet and soft-spoken people.

Gulf News is as good as the national paper of UAE. This article appeared in thick, large font on the front page. It came just on the day that Bush was going to set foot in the U.A.E. Imagine Bush reading this on his flight just before he landed here.

Letter to George W. Bush

Gulf News
Published: January 10, 2008, 23:32

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Dear Mr. President;

Lest you forget. Invasion of Iraq. Thousands of dead. Looting the National Museum. Disbanding the Iraqi army. Donald Rumsfeld. Shock and Awe. Jay Garner. Paul Bremer. Inciting sectarianism. Abu Ghraib. Thousands of detainees without charges. Torture. Oil. Ghost WMDs. The Niger connection. Halliburton. Blackwater. Deadly security contractors. Mercenaries. Fallujah. Haditha massacre. Blind support of Israel. Instigating the suffering of Gaza. Ignoring the expansion of illegal colonies. Defying United Nations resolutions. Securing "a Jewish State". Allowing Israelis to extend the destruction of Lebanon in the 2oo6 war. Providing Israel with new Bunker Buster bombs to attack Lebanese towns. The War on Terror. "The Crusade". Clash of civilisations. Where is Osama Bin Laden? Afghanistan. Bagram massacre. Bombing media offices. Guantanamo Bay. Kangaroo courts. Indefinite detention. Presidential orders to ignore Geneva Conventions. "Unlawful enemy combatants". Illegal National Security Agency wiretapping. Fingerprinting visitors. Black prisons. Kidnapping foreign citizens on foreign lands. Khalid Al Masri. Abu Omar. Maher Arar. Central Intelligence Agency. "Aggressive interrogation techniques". Destroying the torture tapes. Iran tension. Isolating Syria. Embracing Syrian opposition Iraq style. The Chavez coup. Denial of global warming. Rejecting Kyoto Protocol. Marginalisation of the United Nations. John Bolton. Paul Wolfowitz and the World Bank. Carl Rove. Alberto Gonzales. Firing attorneys. Nepotism. False democracy promises. Dick Cheney, Dick Cheney and Dick Cheney.

Mr President;

The list goes on. You might not be able to recall some of it. But the people around you, Cheney and Condoleezza Rice especially, would. And they realise that on the subject of human rights, your administration has had the worst record of all, surpassing most Third World countries. The tension and the misery in parts of this region can very well testify to this.

Mr President;

In a famous speech in 2003 you announced an "historic" shift in US foreign policy. You pledged to support democracy and liberty while declaring "victory" in Iraq. More than four years later, Iraq is in chaos. It has virtually disintegrated and "the surge" did little to stop the killing or ease the sectarian tension. At the same time, you gave up on your freedom-for-all prophecy. We are all back to the old ways of doing business - arms and oil. The agenda of your current tour is evident.

Mr President;

This is your first official trip to a land you long claimed has a very special place in your heart. The land of the Prophets. However, you started out wrong. By maintaining your support of an Israeli "Jewish State", you are flouting your own ideals upon which your great country was founded more than two centuries ago. So much for the promise of democracy. What you advocate in fact is the creation of states on religious and racial lines, thereby justifying the atrocious actions of terrorists who hate and seek to eliminate the followers of other religions: The same terrorists you like to blame for every ill on earth and every failure of yours.

Mr President;

It has been reported that you are here to "lecture" us on democracy and human rights. But with a record like yours, you will not be very convincing. The people you are addressing have greater respect for human rights and dignity.

You also said that your current tour aims to realise the long neglected peace in the Middle East. Regional peace, Mr President, will not be achieved by escalating tension and threatening to change regimes. And most importantly, it will not be achieved by supporting Israel, which continues to defy international law, occupy Arab lands, oppress the Palestinians and rebuff peace initiatives.

Mr President;

We hope you have enjoyed the trip so far. The scenery is great. The food is exotic. As for the more "serious" things, it is unlikely you will make any difference.

Ghost Messages in Outlook

2008-01-13T10:41:00.000+04:00

Background:
I run Outlook 2007 on Windows Vista. I have two accounts in Outlook.

Problem:
From sometime, I noticed that Outlook was trying to send a message through one of the accounts. The only problem was there were no messages in the Outbox. It kept trying to send these messages. It would try, not succeed, return an error messages saying "Check the address of recipients".

Solution:
I did some search and found this useful link.

Explanation:
The problem is usually because of a read receipt stuck in gallows of your Outlook mail folder. It will not display in the Outlook interface. But as soon as you install the program from Windows that is available on the site, you can fix it in a matter of seconds. It will delete the rebel file and all other files can pass through the account easily.

Bye Bye Horny Bulls!

2008-01-11T21:42:00.000+04:00

That's right! These bulls are horny. They've got da moolah. They can paint the town, or at at least the streets red in a couple of seconds. And like all the other good things in life - they're banned.

The Supreme Court of India today passed a to ban the Jallikattu bull festival that is held in and around the temple town of Madurai. The one at the town of Alanganallur is particularly famous.

The sport (don't roll your eyes) precedes the Pongal festival, called Mattu-Pongal. The bull's horns are painted, decorated with garlands and mango leaves are hung around their neck. Then bundles of cash are hung around their horns. That's the bait!

Now all this done, the bulls are released into a crowd of men who (surprise, surprise) don't run away from the bull, they run towards it. Aaaaand, the bulls couldn't care less that that there was money on their horns, or that there was an ocean of human bodies trying to tame then. They just run from Point A to Point B without so much as a care in the world. Anyone who comes in their way, gets tossed straight from the bull-fighting ground to the hospital ward.

The belief is that the men get to show their brave, valiant and macho (to the nurses). Also, this festival is a must for a good harvest. Pongal is the season of harvest and this sport ensures that all's well. The Supreme Court must have decided that this was too much to take. Since they couldn't do anything about the mass-murders, assassinations, bombings and violence happening all over the country, so they decided to stop a tradition that people cherished and they didn't understand.

Do I think it will stop? Has smoking in public places stopped?

Check out this video. It's more like a Psycho meets Matador video. It's pretty graphic, so ... grab some popcorn.

Marriage Marathon 07

2008-01-10T00:44:00.000+04:00

I call it the Holocaust of the Last Quarter of 07 (LQo07)

2007 to me will be the year when almost all my closest friends suddenly realized that they had done everything that they had resolved to do at the beginning of the year, except one item.

To get married! And from October to December did they get on with it? As I watched, one by one of the people who knew me fell (rose?) down like domino bricks. Marriage bells were ringing like one of the scenes from an Old Hindi movie where the hero suddenly stumbles into a theatre. Invitations cards kept pouring almost every other day. I'm not saying that I got invited to all of them, but there were still many, many that came in.

To all those below - I have put two words -
"Semper Fidelis"
It's the motto of the United States Marine Corps. It's Latin for "Always Faithful" ;)
and as a subtle aside (you guys are my friends after all!)
"Si fecisti nega"
If you did it, deny it!

The first one to go - Rummy. She found Ravi.
And yes, that's the madisari of a true-blue Madarasi. The deed happened at 16th September 07. Kiru and me managed to get invited for a nice saddhi lunch.

Pairing: Parents / Cupid

And then - Anand. He got engaged to Sangeetha on 21st October 07. He got engaged in Coimbatore the day I left to Mumbai.

Pairing: Cupid

Next Jo. My cousin sis from Mumbai.
She married ... him (3ps .. some help please!). That happened at 1st November 07 when I had left to Sharjah. And yes, in case you're wondering - we are a tall family. The guy guy seems to "fit" right in!

Pairing: Parents

Munch married her college-hood sweetheart Ajay in Chennai.
They got married in a mandap next to my depot, but I was away. I really felt I should have made this one. They tied the knot on 11th November 07. They're off to the US. This pics from their engagement album.

Pairing: Cupid

Empy married Anish in Jodhpur on 19th November 07.
I had no idea that it was going on all through college. Happened in a hurry. But I'm happy that she got who she wanted in the end.

Pairing : Cupid

The Banku man waited and waited and waited and finally married his college love, Vasu in Shrikakulam on 22nd November 2007. This was one of the those that I really missed going to. Another one of the Chennai gang. Good friend. After my recent visit to Chennai, it looks like I didn't lose a friend, I gained one.

Pairing: Cupid

Nope that's not Britney or Asin or whoever you think that is.
That's Lollypop getting married to my namesake in Coimbatore on the same day as Banku did it above.

Paring : Cupid (Duh!)

And, the last of the Chennai gang. Not one, but two of my closest friends decided that they had it with looking for someone, so they decided on the next best option. That's right! Ruby and Chandu married each other. They did it in Cochin on 2nd December 07. This is the first one I heard about. I'm sure Roobs won't forget my reaction in a long time.

Pairing : Cupid

Bringing up the tail-end of this slog-it-out marriage line up was the Garg. She married her school sweetheart Mrinal one day after Roobs and Chandu on 3rd December 07 in Delhi.

Pairing : Cupid

Well, there's only one thing that I can say. May this serve as a grim reminder and forewarning to those who still have survived the LQ007 Holocaust.

Cupid | Parents
______________

7.5 | 1.5

Read that scoreline again! C'est La Vie!

The One with the Plan - 2008

2008-01-07T16:56:00.000+04:00

I got inspired by reading Still Searching's blog. I've never tried recording what I'd like to do in a year. I had put my Gtalk status message as 'This will be the year that I finally...'. People kept buzzing in to ask me what it was. I asked them to guess what it could be.

Hima thought this would be the year that I would start answering straight. Sagmon decided I would get married this year. Kiru .. well forget what Kiru said. Gary thought I'm "gonna get higher". I wished he meant in my career, but I think he was into his second round of "neat beer", so I dropped the wishing

What do I wish to do (not necessarily achieve) this year

- I want to get my dad's 60th birthday done well. This is a place where I want to try some creativity. Lately, I've felt that I've not been able to use it in many places

(Measurable: Ask all mom's sisters)

- I shall adopt a pet. A dog, cat, parrot, goldfish are high on my list

(Measurable: Take a look around)

- I shall finish atleast one PC game

(Measurable: Screenshot)

- I shall try to understand my sister better. In a year's time she will get married and things will change.

(Measurable: Talk to her)

- I shall learn Arabic. If not the language, the swears would do

(Measurable: All critical gaalis please)

- I shall visit one country outside the GCC

(Measurable: Immigration stamps)

- I don't want to get married this year. But this year, I'd like to meet the girl who's going to be an important participant in the process a year later.

(Measurable: Did you meet her in 2008? Did you marry her 2009?)

- I shall read and read and read

(Measurable: Book list)

- I shall continue my salsa classes. If I can't do that, then I should enroll for any dance classes

(Measurable: Didja?)

- If I can't do above, then my guitaring must improve

(Measurable: Ditto)

- I shall hope that my inventory of friends improves in quality and not quantity

(Measurable: Are they all still there? When was the last time you heard something about them from someone else that you already didn't know?

- I shall try to do random acts of kindness

(Measurable: How many smiles)

- I shall try to invest my money better and with lesser help from my dad

(Measurable: Self RoI)

- I shall stop using measurables in my resolution

(Measur ... well that's one thing taken care off!)

My Chennai pals in their true colors

2007-12-23T21:10:00.000+04:00

The Dooby show!

Munch the crooner

Kiru .. I knew it!

Appu Brokovich

2007-12-23T20:41:00.000+04:00

Well, I'll be damned!

Someone's got the whole world in her hands!

The Ducky Ad Awards - Dec 07

2007-12-21T15:51:00.000+04:00

Well I never thought this series would make it past the first episode. But I did it. This is the second post!

Before I say anything about this month's winner, why not see it first? I only hope you've never seen it before. Don't want to spoil the ending for you.

Here are the lyrics of the song. Extensive googling didn't help. So I guess someone at Oglivy just picked up a guitar and hummed this one out. Makes a beautiful number.

Uuuu uu uuu uu
Uu hoo hoo u hoo
hoo hoo hoo uu

Blue skies and la la la
There's a place
for us somewhere

Take me away,
somewhere far away
beyond the sun

uuuu huuu huuu huu huuu huu
uuu hoo u
uu hoo hoo hoo uuu
take me a away
somewhere far away
beyond the ...

A big investment from the guys with the deepest pockets. This 60-seconder comes ringing in for Christmas TV from the giants at O&M

What I love about this ad is that you don't know whats happening till the last second. There's a man stuck in an elevator apparently waiting for something to happen. It's only in the last second that you're told it's an ad for an Astrology SMS . By the time you figure it out, the brands out there on your screen. I assume it would have excellent recall.

The man in the elevator has a great expression on his face. You actually understand some of his emotes when you see the ad for the second time.

Vodafone have another ad as well for India, on the astrology concept, but I like this one.
(Plus I couldn't find the other one on YouTube )

I'm sick!

2007-12-08T01:23:00.000+04:00

That's right! Don't tell me you knew it all along. Here's a list of all the stuff that I suffer from.

Bouts of Acute viral nasopharyngitis once a year

Palmer and Plantar Hyperhidrosis

Early Stertor

I'm sure I have Hypersomnia but no one believes me

Minor alopecia

Pilomotor under dire circumstances

Pityriasis capitis

Declining Myopia

and of course, perpetual Pantaphobia

And you think you have problems!

Mastercard with the Sharjah Police

2007-12-08T01:10:00.000+04:00

Getting an application type written in Arabic and taking passport photos : 25 Dirhams
Opening a new file in my name at the Sharjah Police : 50 Dirhams
Registering at the driving school for mandatory classes : 75 Dirhams
The look on my face when at the end of it all, they say "Come back in 6 months" : Price@%$#less

Further reading

P.S. First you wait to start classes, then they fail you a minimum of two times and give you new dates after months. The articles says it may take something like 9 months! I know some other things that get ready in 9 months far more easily!

Ego Massage

2007-12-08T00:56:00.000+04:00

Hey I can get one too. My dad called me up the other day to tell me that my pic had come in Mangayar Malar. I found myself thinking about the nice time I used to have at college. I rememered winning an award and wondered if there was some stuff about it still online. Turns out there still is:

XIM Bhubaneswar Rules at 13th B-school Affaire

Cool Avenues

The 13th B-School Affaire that saw the participation of all major b-schools was led by XIMB. The contest was held at Mumbai.

The most coveted title of the Best Management Student was adjudged to Kartik Subramanian (PGP-II) of XIMB. The contest (BMSC) was sponsored by the Dewang Mehta Foundation and Kartik fetched a cash prize of Rs. 75,000 for the same.

The road to success for Kartik came after much strife as students from all the top B-schools in India including the IIMs, XLRI, MICA and MDI vied with each other for the coveted title of the "Best Management Student of India".

The elimination process included a shortlist of the resumes by the student's B-school, followed by a second elimination by the organizing committee bringing the shortlist down from an applicant list of 500+ to just 35 candidates. The candidates were invited to participate in the contest in Mumbai. The process included a presentation by the students followed by a vigorous round of questioning by the 30-member strong jury panel, which included luminaries like Dr. Prasad Medury and ad guru Prahlad Kakkar.

"India's - Civilization greatest melting pot resides in her villages, where the wheels of change have been set in motion. XIMB presents managers, moulded to lead this change."
This was the unique theme of the PGPRM Placement Brochure of XIMB that fetched the award for the Best Brochure of the Year.

The team said that the theme of pottery was the ideal platform on which the brochure could have been presented. The depiction of the various forms clay takes at the hands of the craftsman was the USP of the brochure. The brochure was a clear winner right from the start, as per the opinion of the judges. It signified the rustic scenario and blended it extremely well with the urban culture. The brochure, thus, stood out among the brochures of XLRI, MDI, NITIE and other B-schools.

The third competition where XIMB made a mark was the Best Presentation Contest. The topic of the presentation was "The Retail Paradigm: Growth and Opportunities". The contest was evaluated by a panel of 30 jury members with presentations being made by over twenty teams from various B-schools in India.

Kartik Subramanian and Shikha Garg did XIMB proud again by winning the runners-up prize for the contest. Thus, XIMB won in three of the total four competitions organized during the mega event.

The stories are also at : Indian B-Schools & Gary's Blog

Foodie's Recipe Link

2007-12-08T00:01:00.000+04:00

My cousin sis 3P once said that we both have been born into a family of foodies. I remember that realising that it was something that was as true as an other universal fact. I just had not seen it.

How blind could I have been? My mom and Patti are excellent cooks. Mom's from Trichur but she cooks anything. Her Gujju dishes have made Gujju's shower praise. My Patti is a food-freak - the incipient of it all. Any conversation with her will include - "What did you have for breakfast and lunch and dinner?" If someone wants to make her happy, we just ask about a recipe. My sis runs a restaurant in Chennai. And everyone else (dad, uncle, cuzns) love hot and spicy vegetarian food. I love cooking so much, I dance a jig and sing when I cook.

I have come across a lot of links that have good recipes on the net. So I thought, why not put them in a post where everyone could check it out at once. I'll keep updating them as I get more.

Here they are:

Recipe Link:

Recipezaar : You can search in any conceivable fashion. Plus you get a calorie sheet, a servings adjuster and an option choose my ingredient and save and print the recipe. Woo Hoo!

Mental Masala's Blog blog : Very nice blog if you use the tags on the right. He gives a good intro about the food he prepares.

100% Microwave Food blog : This is the site that I love. Microwave cooking is something I discovered after coming to Sharjah. It's easy, takes less time, requires not much attention, stirring and can be taken out served. Check out this guys links to other blogs. He's pretty much done what I started to do.

ClickaFood blog: This guy writes a superb blog. Bachelor recipe paradise! Only problem - No links to help searching faster.

Sailu's cooking blog: This is a must-read if Andhra cooking is your thing.

Mom and Patti's cooking : Well, its not written down yet .. but you want to taste heaven ;) go to these people.

Conversion of various cooking units can be comfortably done here.

You'll notice that a lot of the links are blogs. Let's face the facts. Websites needs money to run and many of them are not going to hand out recipes for free. So blogs rule the roost. Here's a nice site using which you can search for any category of blogs. Simplifies a laborious search process.

Toor Dal in Microwave

2007-12-07T23:56:00.000+04:00

I only wish I had read this sooner. It Would have saved me half a day's cooking if I had known this. Give it a try and see if you can get the dal cooked without doing it about 7 times if you haven't read what's below.

Wash the dal like rice, soak for 20 minutes.
Place plenty of water, add dal and boil.
Simmer and cook covered, add more water if required.

Toor dal takes approx. 40 minutes over stove
3 whistles pressure cooker
1:3 water in microwave high 12-14 minutes.

Yellow moong dal: 25 minutes on stove
2 whistles in pressure cooker
1:2 water in microwave high 8-9 minutes

I got it from this link.

The Ducky Ad Awards - Nov 07

2007-12-03T22:25:00.001+04:00

I have yet again instituted a new topic that might look like it's going to continue for a big series. But you will be glad to know, you're probably reading the last episode. This has happened in the past. Have no fear... the tradition shall continue.

Without further ado .. the Ducky Ad awards goes to ...
ICICI Prudential (Both the ads)

Here's the first one: (hint: Press play)

I couldn't find the second one.
But have no fear, Ol' Fuzz is here. This link takes you to the storyboard. I'll upload the video when I get it.

Both of them are brilliant pieces of work by the guys at Lowe. Why is that?

I'm in sales. You can sell many things. You can even sell sand if you wanted to. But of all the things that you can sell, selling death is the most difficult. Basically what insurance marketers are tying to tell you is "Look buddy .. you're going to die. Pay me some money now and I'll make it worth your while"

The first ad, is an ad about Life Insurance. The endearing stuff in the ad is the 'pat-comes-the-reply' banter between both of them, making a grave subject look like a slapstick routine. Not to mention that they make a very cute couple. There's also a nice kid to add some more meaning to the storyline. Plus the best line 'Sign karo' not because of what she says, but how she says it. That eyebrow! Whew! I wonder how many takes that took!

The message is clear as can be. Take Life Insurance now. Live a tension-free life.

The second ad has also got the same cute couple back. God! I wish they were married in real life as well. This stuff that you like is the two 'Hello? Itna emotional kyon ho rahi ho?' Well disguised! Hats off to the ad guys. As usual, the lady takes the sweetest line 'No Yaar..Pyaaz!'

The guy delivers the message this time. I've taken Health Insurance. Now we don't need to beg anybody for anything.

Notice that both are family situations. In both, the woman plays the role of the suggester
"Sign karo" / "Ek health insurance hi tho lena tha"

The guy plays the role of the doer. "Sign Kar dun?" / "Yeh rahe health insurance ke papers"

That's the way it is and these guys have told whoever is watching they ad, exactly what they need to do and who they need to do it with.

All I can say for the guys at ICICI Pru, the Lowe guys and the two people in the ad is ..

Jeetey Raho!

Vikram and Betaal like no other

2007-12-02T09:51:00.000+04:00

It was a dark night and it rained in fits. Gusts of wind shook the trees. There were strange noises and in between the thunderclaps, the moaning of jackals could be heard.Flashes of lightning revealed fearsome faces and there was a strange and mysterious laughter of the spirits.
But King Vikramaditya swerved not. He climbed the ancient tree to bring the corpse down and soon he began crossing the desolate cremation ground, with the corpse lying on his shoulder.

As he walked back, the betaal spoke to him thus:

"Vikram I appreciate you picking me up every night and to make the journey back more pleasant, I shall tell you a story."

Vikram listened quietly as the Betaal continued.

"There was this 19 year old woman. One day she went out alone to meet a man to pick up some photographs. When she reached there, both of them were abducted by 7 men. They took her somewhere and each of them raped her. They were later found and they were brought to court. They were sentenced to any where between 10 months and 5 years in prison.

The attorney of this woman appealed that the sentence to these wretched men be increased. He argued that they had committed an unholy sin and deserved to be tortured more.

What did the court say to the appeal, Vikram?"
--
Poof! You're King Vikramaditya!

What is your answer going to be? If you say the right answer, the Betaal will go back. If you say the wrong answer, then he will chop your head off.

What do you think the court did?
--
It increases the sentence for the 7 men as requested.

Then it also decided that the 19 year old raped-by-seven-men victim be given another 200 lashes in addition to the 90 lashes that she had been destined to receive. Also she was sentenced to six months in prison for good measure. This was because she had had gone unaccompanied to meet a man.

The attorney who had represented her for this appeal got his license to practice law revoked.

The place as you may have guessed by now is the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. This is a true story that has been all over the news. You can read more about it here.

The Qatif girl, as she is referred to, has outright support of nations worldwide. Saudi has very strict laws regarding women in their country has so far refused to budge from their stand. The girl's fate now stands at the door step of Kind Abdullah, the only person who can waive the decision, or enforce it.

Of course, one cannot imagine that such a decision would have been reached without reason. After saying no comment for a long time, the decision makers have offered a rationale for their judgement. You can read it here.

We shall have to wait, pray and see what happens to the Qatif girl.

As for you King Vikram, the Betaal just beheaded you!

Get more space on Vista

2007-12-01T22:08:00.000+04:00

I've got a 100GB hard disk that runs Windows Vista on my laptop. I'm using about 5 GB so far. Vista tells me that I have 80GB left.

Do the math. 15GB of precious hard disk space had vanished into thin air. I was concerned. Was I victim of a virus? Was there a file/program that was hogging space as a hidden file?

I ran a virus check. Clean as a whistle. Then I had to figure a way to show hidden files. In Vista, they take simple things and complicate it ten times over and say 'New and Improved'. Tip: To view the old menu-bar to unhide files. Press and hold the Alt key when viewing the folder. Magically, you'll see it appear it again.

Added on 24/2. Quick,Temp Fix
- Goto Start > Accessories> System Tools> Disk Cleanup.
- Select "All Users"
- Click "Continue"
- Choose C:
- Select "More Options" Tab
- Click "Cleanup"
- Go back to My computer and check space. If you are still not satisfied, read below for a permanent fix

Well, I was stumped. How was this possible. Searching Google for answers proved difficult. It was tough to define my query. Finally I found what I was looking for. I first came across this site which said that you could reset your Restore point space to 1GB. By the way, the space was going because Vista allocated 15% of space to System Restore Points. But don't try this site's solution.

Go to this site and you will realise that the previous site was hastily written. The site says that you can clear all but the most recent restore point files. I did that and Bob's your uncle! I have 94GB hard disk space.

Happy! Joy!

Yesterday

2007-11-20T10:11:00.000+04:00

Yesterday, I had a chat with my the corners of my heart. Strange isn't it, that the heart is usually mentioned in context of love, romance and such but very rarely in regard of friendship. The heart expresses intense feelings and in my case yesterday, it showed me how it could show those feelings for my friend - B. Kiran Kumar Bankupalli - a.k.a Kiru - a.k.a 78 - a.k.a Rahul - a.k.a Dad (long story) - a.k.a Hitch

"So you are Room number 77? Me and MK have been looking all over for you!"

That's the first line that Kiran spoke when I met him outside my room in our college. He was Room 78, I was 77. Looking back over the years, I can't thank my parents and his enough for naming us the way they did. For two long years, we explored what a friendship was all about. He was a veteran, having made good friends throughout his life . I was a wildcard entry. We made good progress. We had discussions that in my opinion were far ahead of our times (still). We watched the same movies. We ate the same food. We played the same games. Somewhere during that time a tacit agreement was made .. This one's for keeps. Everything was not hunky-dory of course. There were times when I had hurt him owing to simple stupidity and selfishness on my part. It was easy doing it. But looking at his face after that and just imagining how his face would look like if I were to see it, made me feel even smaller than the smallest worm around. But somewhere in his big heart he found the grace to forgive me and our relationship recovered from a road block and chugged on.

On the last day of college, he left before me, wisely so. I spent 6 hours without him in the campus. If I could put down here how painful those moments were, I would. Maybe suffering is God's way of extracting repentance. Fate, in collaboration with our respective employers took us to different corners of the country. He went to Chennai and I went to Mumbai. But Fate it seems was no stranger to paradoxical twists. After taking me to Mumbai, Singapore, Malaysia, interior Maharashtra, Bangalore it finally bought me back to Chennai. Kiran opened up his home to me and I found new friends in his apartment. We spent a wonderful year there. Kiran and I picked just from where we had left off in college. We were back to sharing interests in people, in companies, in thoughts.

When he left for his USA trip, I decided to shift the house. We took a small nice apartment in Besant Nagar. The year I spent there- Nov 1, 2006 to Oct 21,2007 I shall never forget. That is the time that the concrete cementing of the relationship happened. As I write these words, so many memories are flooding my head. Its quite overwhelming. The time we decided to start a company. The time I locked myself up in the guest bedroom. The first time we sat on top of the terrace. The time when we got a projector and watched a movie in the house (his reaction was priceless!). The painful time when we had a cat in the house. The time when he asked me to permanently sit in the chair and watch the match so that India would win 20-20 world cup. All the times he took the responsibility of finishing up my Sodex-ho passes. The way he adjusted the AC in my car. The time he bought his first bike. The time we celebrated his half birthday, my sister's birthday, Manju's birthday, Ruby's Birthday. The time when he took my family in my car to Mahabalipuram which was, in his learned opinion, only "4 kms from Chennai". The time we spent at Murugan Idli, at Baywatch, at Pupil, at Subway, at Eden, on the footpath at Khana Khazana. The time we spent talking. The time we spent laughing. The time we spent being.

All my friends know him and all his friends know me. Everytime I meet one of his friends they'll tell me Kiran would keep talking about me all the time. My parents never got tired of asking why I always included Kiran in every second sentence I spoke to them. When we were together, I was I and he was he. In the middle of any conversation, I could look into his eyes and figure out what the rest of the conversation was going to be like. Towards the end, most of the talking was perfunctory. The communication had already been done by the way the question was asked, the way the response was given was given or simply taken for granted. There is possibly nothing about my life till Oct 21, 2007 that he doesn't know and he has involved me so deeply in his past that I find myself substituting my past for his.

Yesterday, B. Kiran Kumar, my buddy of 4 years, left Chennai to Shrikakulam to get married. I am sad because I wanted to be there when he boarded the train and left. I wanted to be there at the last moment to say good-bye. I know it sounds stupid. But I think the reason I am sad about not being there, is because if I was there I would have a far better reason to be sad and than be here, thousands of miles away and feel miserable. It sounds crazy when I read it, but makes perfect sense inside my head.

He will marry his childhood sweetheart. He will come back to Chennai with his beloved and stay in same house that we had stayed in. He shall grow roots there and build his family there. He will be happy. I am happy for him. My sadness is in equal measure.

Yesterday, Fate cast its die once more.

"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,
Now it looks as though they're here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be,
There's a shadow hanging over me,
Oh, Yesterday came suddenly"

- The Beatles (1965)

The Drinks are on me!

2007-11-06T11:11:00.000+04:00

Last Thursday night, Arjun (my friend from Engineering) and I went to drink in Dubai. We had a beer at this place called Good Fellas. I told him that (like I tell everybody else) that I've never been to a disc before. He told me that he was also new to this place. But he heard that there was this good disc around. We went looking for it. When we found the place, they were asking for 50 AED for entry. We bit our lips and paid up. This was very very important for me.

The room that we entered upstairs was dimly lit. It had a very brown, shady look to it as is common with most bars in India. It was longer in front of us and shorter to the sides. The whole place stretched roughly about double the size of our MPH in XIM. The entire length of the wall facing us was a bar. On the right wall there was a stage that was set for a bad to come in. Behind us there was again another small bar. All around in the middle, there were pillars. And around these pillars, the barstools and the walls were the only seats.

When I entered the room, I noticed none of what I have written above. All I noticed was the crowd. There were men, sure. But there were women and women and women. Everywhere I turned my head there were women walking, chatting, drinking, smoking. Arjun and I couldn't figure much of what was going on, I was getting the feeling that something was happening when ..

"Hi there .. where are you from". The voice belonged to a dark lady with lovely, large eyes. She was trying to be coy. I didn't get her name but she was from East Africa she told me.

"Do you like a good time", she asked. I told her that I was here for a good time, but I'd just got here and that I would talk to her again when I left.

She stroked my arm and told me"I"ll be waiting here for you. Come back soon".
I smiled said bye, turned around to Arjun and put the biggest smile that I had on my face. I found that he had already done the same for himself.

We both realised that this was a big pickup point. BIG. It wasn't even weekend and the ratio of men to women was already skewing in the favor that interested both of us. We picked a table at the far end of the room so that we had a good view of the entire scene. A Turkish man called Yousuf joined us. He chatted for a while with a Filipino lady. Later we found out that he was here on construction business. He had come here looking for his beloved C.C. a Filipino girl who had 'pleasured' him on his last week. She was tall and strong and had lots of burji (whatever that meant!). Arjun and I enjoyed it all thoroughly. We scanned the crowd. We were trying to figure out who would be the one charging the most. After a good look around, we both agreed that it had to be the Russian. She was tall and extremely fair, wearing a black dress that was open in places to drive home the point. She and a friend of hers simply walked around. I was surprised by this. Most of the girls there would walk up to you at a glance or a smile. They made the first move. In the case of the slender Russian, she simply walked all over the place, slowly, pacing herself so that nobody missed anything. If there was a Ms. Hot in the room, the Russian was it.

Having settled that, Arjun and I proceeded to talk with the Turk who was very upset that he had not found C.C. He excused himself after joking with us for a while, saying that he was going to give it his last best shot. We watched the crowd for a while, got bored and got back to our drinks which we found were getting filled up seconds after it was being emptied. Suddenly Arjun nudged me. I looked at him. He was smiling and his eyes were urging me to look to my left.

When I turned to the left, I found that I was face to face with a lot of black. I looked up and it took quite some time to reach the end of it. That was where the black melted away into a bright face with golden hair tossed all about. It was the Russian!

She didn't say a a word. She simply stared at me. I raised an eye-brow and she copied it. I said Hi. She said Hi. Silence. I said that I'd seen her walking by. She couldn't understand what I was saying. Silence. She asked me where I was from. I told her that I was from Mumbai. I was having too much trouble explaining to people that a place called Chennai existed in India. She said 'Aah .. Mumbai'. She asked me my name. I told her. She told me she was Roxanna and that she was from Ukraine. Only a minute had passed, but I felt we had been talking for an hour. Such was the power of her presence. People sitting arounf all around me stopped to watch Roxanna talk. I'm guessing she didn't do it much. She looked me over one more time and asked me a question that I will never forget for the rest of my life....

"Zo you boyz only dreenk?"

I told her the truth. She smiled and walked away. I turned to Arjun. We both burst out laughing. That was the best line I had ever heard! The band had come in. They started with some very dull numbers. But pretty soon, they began playing good music. When I heard 'Losing My Religion', I took my glass, went near the stage and sang every word of the song as best as I could.

We left there around midnight, smiling, laughing and reliving every moment of our time inside. As we grabbed a couple of Felafels on the roadside, I told Arjun something that made him laugh even louder than before.

I still hadn't been to a disc.

Back in Dubai

2007-10-31T22:35:00.000+04:00

14 years in Dubai and 12 years in India. That's how much time I've spent in both the countries. India was threatening to go ahead but Dubai has had the last laugh. I think I shall engage in a flashback. Why should only film stars have the liberty?

Born in Trichur, studied in Dubai (Ghusais, AlShaab,Karama), studied in Coimbatore, studied in Bhubaneshwar, worked in Mumbai, interior Maharashtra, Bangalore and then Chennai.
And now this post comes from Dubai.

The irony of this story is that when we came back from Dubai to Coimbatore, my parents went to ask an astrologer of my fate - would I ever go back to Dubai? He declared ominously that if this boy comes to India, he shall never leave its land again.

When I heard about the Rs. 10 prophesy which my parents hesitantly relayed to me, I was shattered. Of all the diseases that I have had since birth, the sting and the want to travel and see the world and it's people has been the cancer that I have enjoyed and nourished. Another part of my mind resignedly accepted this as the wont of fate. I thus decided that I should make a living in India itself and used to subdue myself when others described their wondrous adventures in lands far and beyond.

Fate, it seems, is no stranger to sympathy. In it's own mysterious way, it had chartered a course back to where I had come from. Right to the centre of the world, as if asking me 'There! Are you happy now?

I landed in Dubai at 6:15 a.m. on 29th October 2007. I had left it on June 4th, 1995. When I landed the first thing that I did was thank God, because I felt that the stupid astrologer might yet have the last laugh and my plane would crash somehow. Since that had not happened, I sang a song 'Back in Dubai' for no other reason, than I had promised my mother I would sing it. I didn't know the lyrics or the tune. So I made up a song that went on for four lines with variations to the words 'Back in Dubai'. The last thing I did on the flight was to declare a few personalised expletives to an astrologer who had taken hope away from me.

When my feet touched the tarmac, I touched the ground. It was true. I was on Dubai soil. After all these years. A tear popped out to say hello to this faded memory of mine.

People who visit Dubai for the first time will be struck by the huge monstrous towers that are all over the place. People who live in Dubai cannot understand how a tower that was there when they went to sleep has disappeared and in it's place a bigger one has come. This is a city in the flux of change. The statistics are baffling. Dubai alone has 15% of the world's tower cranes. The ruler of Dubai felt that people never had much recall for the second largest building in the world. So he has decided to make the world's largest building in Dubai. So it's easier to remember.

Do I remember the place? I feel like I'm going through a ghost town. How would you feel if you went back to a place that you had spent your life in and in the place of your house you found a huge shopping mall? Would you describe that as familiar? It's an eerie feeling.

They say Dubai is a global hub. Make no mistake about it. In the market, on the shelves, on the streets everywhere it's global. I don't know about Times Square, but I'm sure if you stood in front of Bur Juman centre long enough, you would see everyone in the world soon (Mallu's twice ofcourse!)

My work over here will be very interesting. In Chennai, my discussion used to centre around Madipakkam, Mylapore and Mint Street. Here of course, the discussions start with Bahrain, do a round of Turkey, stop by Syria, bring in Egypt, gloss over Dammam and end in Iran. In a normal conversation. Normally, I expect one person to say all this looking very serious to another person and when he's finished, both of them look serious for a second or two and burst out laughing. They don't. They start talking about the import situation in Odessa! (Where's my map?!)

Maybe one day I can talk like this and keep a straight face. International marketing is fun, make no mistake about it. The blows will be harder, the aggression will be in-your-face, and the minds more sharper. To learn to know what drives other people, how they make their moves, how they react under pressure is something that I dreamt of doing.

This part of my life, this part right here.. it's called "Living my dream!"

I'm back in Dubai!!

26 on 26

2007-07-26T13:57:00.000+04:00

That's right people!!!!!!!!

"Today the 26th of July 2007, is the day that I can proudly say that I have seen the same side of the Sun exactly 26 times."

That didn't sound too great.

"I've lived out a third of my life expectancy today! Hooray!!"

Naaah - Still haven't got it.

Okay
Note to Self - find out whats so great about today and tell yourself.
Note to Note above - get drunk or find one, your problems will be solved.
God's Note to Note above - Amen!

Usually when people come to such landmarks, they sit back, pour themselves a drink and consider what they have done so far that they are proud of. I, for a change, shall follow the crowd.

and no ... this is not an excuse for me to pour myself a drink.

I'm proud of some things.

My parents are proud of me. This in itself is enough to make everything else seem redundant
I have learnt dancing, playing the guitar, karate, swimming, dramatics, astrology, palmistry, ice skating and carnatic music all in one life time (or one third to be more precise)
I was chosen for the Air Force SSB at Mysore lasted the 5 days which I really consider the best days of my life
I have spent one half of the life I have lived in another country which has given me many things
I can whistle with two fingers in my mouth (very very proud moment when it happened)
I still love cartoons and video games
I'm in a job that right from the time I was born ranks fifth in the Top 10 Things I Ever Wanted to Be (for the actual list, you'll have to wait for the blog)
Friends come and they go, but I have nice set who have settled down into a warm relationship and looks like we'll last till the end
I've featured on Radio 3 times (yeah, in a call-in .. so what .. how many times have you had your voice on air

That's me at 26.

I have to, have to, have to, put down a jingle of an ad that I remember ever since I knew to understand English. I wonder how many people ever heard it. It's for a Milk powder called Nido (Nestle). It featured a boy during his graduation. His mom was in the audience, and while he walked up to get his certificate, all the boy's life flashed before her.

Looking back,
Over the years,
Your thirsting moments
sometimes full of tears
Nido makes your growing days
a golden memory
Nido makes those golden growing years
for you and me....

26 and still talking about milk powder. Pretty cooky you say?

Wait till you see my 27 blog!

This part ...

2007-07-12T12:07:00.001+04:00

"This part of my life... this part right here? This is called "happyness."
Christopher Gardner (Will Smith) The Pursuit of Happyness

Today 12th June 2007,

I am learning to dance
I am learning to play the guitar
I have a cat
I'm cooking again

"This part of my life... this part right here? This is called "happyness."
Fuzzy the Ducky (Me) My Life

Incidentally, here's some great quotes from this great movie:

"It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. No matter what. How did he know that?"

"Hey dad, you wanna hear something funny? There was a man who was drowning, and a boat came, and the man on the boat said "Do you need help?" and the man said "God will save me". Then another boat came and he tried to help him, but he said "God will save me", then he drowned and went to Heaven. Then the man told God, "God, why didn't you save me?" and God said "I sent you two boats, you dummy!"

"This part of my life... this part right here? This part is called "being stupid."

More here from the lovely folks at IMDB

And she I shall marry.

2007-07-12T11:25:00.000+04:00

I have been thinking for 26 years now. Not about any particular thing, but I have been thinking of various things. Some of these thoughts include ..

"Goo goo gaa gaa"
"Hey look, I just discovered my fingers"
"Mmmm! Nice!"
"Maggi or Upma?"
"Who shall I marry?"

It shall ease your pain to realise that these are not a compendium of all the thoughts that have crossed my mind, but a brief collection of the repeating ones. Unfortunately, the last one is a human translation of the first one, which is in Martian - a language that we tend to forget when we're two years old.

So let me dwell on that .. Who shall I marry? Evidently, the question is not as easily answered as
"What shall I have for dinner" (Maggi)
"Where shall we go today"(Nowhere)
"What shall I do right now, now that I have been confronted with an immediate problem that required my urgent attention and deployment of all my senses?" (Sleep)
"Who shall I marry"(Umm ...errr...aaaah...)

Just so that my thoughts on the subject are vitally clear and can be back-referenced when the time will come for my brain transplant, I feel it necessary to record these points hereunder for your displeasurable viewing.

a. She shall be a Sagittarian, if not an Arian, if not a Leo (precedence from left)
b. She shall like cows,elephants,rabbits,horses,cats, dogs(dimishing precedence from the right)
c. She shall love to travel the world
d. She shall like Frasier, Who's line, Everybody loves Raymond, Friends, King of Queens, Seinfeld (pick any two)
e. She shall be a she (no compromise here)
f. The sum of the digits of her date (only date) of birth shall be 4,8 but can also be 3,6,9 and if you think about it 0,1,2,5,7 aren't so bad either (easy on the swearing buddy)
g. She shall love to dance
h. She shall love to sing, in key
i She shall love to love me

Okay.Maybe that last point isn't so important.

With the good offices of my friends in Google, Wiki and SETI I have managed to calculate the probability of such a being existing. It has taken 173.6 years to calculate. Please don't remind me that I am only 26 years old. Are you saying that you do not recognise my lives as the famous grasshopper Fred of the Savannah and the handsome tree at Mount Gletscherhorn?

What has come out this immensely successful boring project is this:
a. The person who fits the description above exists; or rather existed 173.2 years back. She died when she had gone trekking at Mount Gletscherhornwhen and a tree fell on her.
b. The only other person who fits this is a very confused female otter somewhere in the backlands of New Zealand.

Which brings me hastily to point j.

Point J. Strictly humans (read that again)

But it Rained ...

2007-06-27T10:58:00.000+04:00

As I alighted from the train in Chennai, the cold morning rain slapped hard on my face. Rains in Chennai are not very common. Uncommon rains have one thing in common for me.

They always spell bad news.

"Machan, bad news da. AK passed away some time back". That was six hours ago. After that came a flurry of shell shocked phone calls. The truth was impossible to swallow. Doubt, disbelief and sadness combined in my head in proportions they never had before.

As I made my way back home, I tried to push my mind to remember what ever it could of the wonderful times that we had had together; moments that defined AK for me.

Somehow each moment always had him jumping up and down, a uncorked cracker of energy, with a voice that was always set on 'cheering-at-the-stadium' accompanied by a smile that could light up a few street blocks. His pants hung loose about him and his pure enthusiasm threatened to rub on to everyone within a considerable distance.

I can never put a word to describe the relationship we shared. In some ways, I felt very close to him for one simple reason. We understood each other perfectly. He's helped me many times and I have tried to reciprocate it.

To the end, I believe that he remained how he used to be. He'd love to take matters into his own hand. He chose not to worry his friends with the bizarre details of the disease that he was battling. I am told he even reported to work the day before he was taken to the hospital.

Now that he's gone, only one thing worries me the most is that I am not able to mourn him the way I feel I should.

Life goes on for others, even when it ends for some.
Sadness plays deep in the heart, but the tears don't come.
Would they who passed want it this way?
Would they have wanted us to remember them one more day?
Would they have wished we mourned them some more?
Would our wanton smiles burn holes in their soul?
He was a good man, one of very few
But we now live in a world without him … a hopeless truth
We shall meet again my friend,
Your memory shall ride with us to the end.

Dear AK- May your soul rest in peace. May your laughter echo in our ears. May your memories fill up our years.

God bless you.

~ AK ~

~ 24th August 1978 - 25th June 2007 ~

Mollypuri

2007-06-01T14:29:00.000+04:00

They should have built the House of Mirrors in every city in India. People would forget to work, brush, eat ... much less everything else other than to pay their daily visit to the place. Oh and how enthralled they would be! They would see themselves differently! The fat would be thin! The thin would be fat! The drooped would become tall again! And the hairless would remain the hairless.

Since someone figured out that putting mirrors all around the place was not really their cup of tea, somewhere along the past, they discovered a more suitable placebo.

They decided to call it many things. But someone creativity-deprived person spake Bollywood, and thus it was born.

A little frustating etymology here: Anyone who has been to Mumbai knows that the city is known much less for its woods than its traffic and Bhel Puri. And I wonder why the Orange brigade forgot to change Bolly to Molly when they changed Bombay to Mumbai.

So it's Mollypuri for me and everyone cares to read any further.

What does this industry give us? The answer to that question is very interesting. The next time you enter a movie theater, briefly glance back at the people in the row behind you before the movie begins. A bunch of normal squabbling, cell-phone chatting people that you would find in any movie hall.

Once the lights go out and the hero comes and bangs up some poor guy who got paid to fall over for the guy with an extra digit, turn around and look at those people in the glow of the 'tinsel' light.

Ah! Not the same people are they? You can see their lips smiling in unison. Their mouths would part together and the frowns would come in a rapid Mexican wave. They are transcending into a world that they know they will never be in, but something that they can live for a few hours on the movie screen.

Take my word for it! Each member of the audience can easily identify themselves with the hero and heroine easily. And in real life, the association continues. How many times have we found ourselves asking ourselves right after a movie 'What would Aamir do in this situation'? Have you noticed that when people come out of the movie hall after watching Superman Returns, the average walking and driving speed tends to be a noticeable shade higher?

Taking a specific example, the audience did not like Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna for a variety of reasons. The said reason was that it was a touchy issue that people found didn't quite go well with popcorn and coke. But I imagine the real reason is that there was a huge identity crisis in the movie. It was that the audience could not identify with a single character in the movie. Who was the hero/heroine in the movie after all? Who was the villain who got beaten up? Karan Johar went ahead and portrayed people as they are, shades of grey et all.

The audience had no one to look up to. No one to identify with. No one to sympathise or cheer for. They trick mirrors had been taken away. They were looking at themselves.

--

Nothing is more prevalent in Hindi movies than the concept of eternal, omnipresent and ever-dependable love. It pervades everything. From the posters to the songs to the theme to the title to the subtitle to the dialogues to the the fights. There are two ways to look at this over-prevalence of love in the movies of today.

Point 1. An unimaginative set of producers and paraphernalia who sit down and discuss thus
Producer: "Let's call it Tuje Dekha Tho ..."
Music Director: "That's great. People will remember Kajol and SRK running in green and yellow fields. Acha hai"
Producer: "How do we start it?"
MD: "First song - Hero proposes to heroine (melody); second song - item number - Hero's ex at a bar; Third song - Hero's dog dies (tragedy) and so on.."
Producer: "Wah! That's it."
Storywriter: "Maybe we can base it around something .. like a bank robbery?"
Producer: "That's right. We'll have a shot of the bank every 15 minutes!!"

Not quite, you may say. Must how many movies unfailingly stick to the same plot? If the story repeats and producers are sane, then the real reason has to be point 2.

Point 2. Love sells.

In this age of censorship, love is as far as they can go. And love is also a good enough excuse to do a lot of other things. You didn't think we'd realise eh, Emraan? Love (and by love I refer to the a natural way of falling in love, where boy meets girl, sparks fly - you know the routine) is something that the our hypocritical junta revel in as long as its on 70mm. Bring the same drama into their living rooms and all the Oscar performances for Best Actor/Actress in a negative role wouldn't be enough for them.

If love is such a nice thing to enjoy on the screen, why are we Indians opposed to enjoying it ourselves or letting others enjoy it? Its because the line between the reality that we are in and the reality that we don't mind enjoying for a couple of hours is manned by one powerful man.

The ticket collector at the gate of the cinema hall.

Here's an interesting fact (Venky are you listening?) :
The word hypocrisy derives from the Greek hypokrisis, which means "acting out". Hypokrisis applied to any sort of public performance , hypokrites was a technical term for a stage actor.

There you have it. The next time you meet Hritik just tell that his last movie was the most hypocritic performance from him that you have ever seen so far.

Strike me down if he doesn't blush.

Bottom line: We live in a dream. Not realising that can be injurious to the health as it is seriously associated with heart problems.

P.B. Whether or not you liked this post, did you notice that whenever I referred to the Indian public, your mind automatically went "Oh! Them! He's not talking about me". Good news: You're not a hypocrite. Bad News: You just have double standards.

As for me, I'll press publish on the screen and go watch a nice Hindi love story. I'm every bit the hypocrite!

A Night to Remember

2007-03-10T11:04:00.000+04:00

Based on a true story - Mine!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have never believed in love at first sight.

Two people look into each other's eyes and suddenly you hear violins! That's a riot! People looking at each other's eyes itself is a rarity. Isn't that the reason the cellphone was invented? I believe that Cupid had nothing to do with to do love and affection. He's just a cute guy who likes to prance around in his nothing-wear and shoot people in their rear sides.

I don't believe in love. I thought I was right. I was wrong. She came along.

I had just returned from a hard day's work last night. The warm weather was getting to me. I threw open the windows and kept the door open as well. I opened my laptop to play some soft music. I went into the shower and felt the warm water cleanse me of all my tension. I wrapped a towel around me and stepped out into the hall.

There she was.

She had entered silently, propped herself up on my couch and was sitting and staring at me with a level gaze. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Somewhere in the distant background, I could hear a faint music.

Violins! And my butt had this funny sore feeling to it as well!

I wanted to ask her what she was doing here. I wanted to know how she had the audacity to enter my apartment, sit on my couch and stare at me. I opened my mouth to speak but the words were lost as the memories came rushing by.

Every morning, when I would get ready for work, I would see her face. I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. I knew there was never a chance we would meet. From the looks of her, I assumed she must be from a big family. The pining was there, I'll admit. But I had never disclosed this to anyone, much less - her. Our interactions to date were only glances and glimpses with averted eyes.

And yet, she had come. She had come and here she was.

"What .. er .. do you want?", I asked her, not knowing what kind of an answer I could expect. I got none. She merely looked the other way and then looked straight back at me.

"This is my house. Please tell me what you want", I could feel some confidence creeping into my voice, thought I didn't sound convincing even to myself.

This time she did answer me. Not in words. But in action. She stood up as if to leave. She touched the door and then started to walk around the house. I stood transfixed , cold and dripping. Slowly, I went to the door and closed it shut.

I thought for a second, then I bolted it.

~~~

She walked around the house tantalisingly. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She walked everywhere, and took in the place as if she was considering moving in here for good. Meanwhile, I fixed drinks for both of us, both neat by the way. By the time she had returned from her tour, I was sitting on the ground in the hall. She came sat in front of me, looking straight into my eye as if she was trying to read something there, and then abruptly turned her attention to her drink and began sipping her drink slowly. I watched her. There was no more than 4 feet between us, but the tension was so thick, you could cut it and put it between bread and serve it as cheap burgers. I wolfed down my drink, poured myself another glass and finished that one as well.

I looked at the time. It was 11:30 p.m. We had kept up this drama for almost an hour and a half now. Who was she? I knew nothing about her. What her name was, where she came from, what she wanted, how she was spending an evening with a total stranger ... nothing. But then I thought, maybe I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe my prayers were being answered. That is why they constructed places of worship, didn't they? Maybe it was God giving me back something for all my years of ...

She stood up. Her eyes looked different now. They had a purpose. She walked gracefully away from me. I found myself lost in total rapture... and then shock.

She had walked straight into my bedroom.

Nervously, I got up and walked in. She had 'gotten comfortable' and settled nicely on the other side of the bed. Not knowing what to do, I put the AC on full blast and cautiously crept in beside her. I lay my head on the pillow and looked away. I was a scaredy cat when it came to females. I waited for her to make the first move. She made none, at first, and then I felt something tingling up my spine. She was teasing me. I turned to look at her. I could see nothing, it was pitch dark. She snuggled up under my arms and lay her head to rest on my chest. That was it. It felt nice.

It had come a long way from seeing her on the street to finding her cuddled up with me in my bed. This had not gone so bad after all. This could be a new beginning. Maybe, I could hint at her moving in soon. But she had other plans...

An hour later, she got up and walked out of the door. She was going to sleep outside. And that was that. I felt an admiration for her. I was not sure why. But it felt nice that she had acted so maturely. I drifted off to sleep.

My alarm clock screamed to life at 7:00 a.m. I woke with a start. Had I dreamed the entire thing? That question was quickly put to rest. The entire bedroom smelt of her presence from yesterday. I slowly opened the door so as not to startle her.

There was no one there. She had left me. I searched all the rooms for her. Not a trace. Had she gone to the terrace for an early morning walk? I screamed up the stairs. The shining terrace stared blankly back at me. I came back to my house, miserable and dejected. I felt used, there was no two ways about it. She had come, used me and gone away. She didn't even leave a note.

"Thank you. Last night was wonderful!"

"See you again tomorrow night!"

"Haha! Sucker!!"

I cooked tea and toasted some bread. I did everything in slow motion. I wanted to give her as much as time as I could to come back. I realised that I was in over my head!

I finally got ready, locked the doors and walked heavily to my car.

Then I saw her. But something different happened.

She walked towards me. I didn't know what to do. It was broad daylight. This was unprecedented. When she came closer, she touched me with her paw, meowed a few times and went back to sleep under one of the other cars in the lot.

I opened my car door and as I turned on the ignition, I tried to interpret what she had told me.

A voice in my head told me it was "See you at 8:00!"

I smiled and drove away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:

This is a true story. I had named her Phoebe .. for a good reason! This story is not inspired by Jeffrey Archer. Though it is very similar to one of his short stories, this has been written from a diametrically opposite perspective. This happened to me yesterday night. At least two people know about it. Tell me what you think. Hit Comments below. Come fall in love!

This is my second short story. You can read the first one here.

The Science of Intimidation

2007-02-26T16:18:00.000+04:00

I reached the place five minutes before I was supposed to have been there. I was nervous, I wasn't sure if I was up to the task. Looking around me, I started into void. True, the commotion around me was perpetual, but I was unaffected by it all.

"Your the best negotiator we have Jim!", my boss guffawed at a toast a few months ago.
"Those buggers didn't know what hit them. You left them thinking that they struck the best deal and yet you ran circles around them"

I blushed appropriately. I didn't deserve all this praise, I thought to myself. I've been negotiating with people ever since I can remember. When I was young, my dad used to tell me "If you have to choose between keeping your money in your pocket or someone elses, which would you choose? That's what you need to remember"

At first, I would do the 'base talks' - let the party know we were interested, get to understand his structure, tweak the areas of debate and generally lower it to the point where I would set it up for my dad. He would just walk in, speak crisply for some time and very soon the guy at the other end would be either weeping or grinning like an idiot - which he probably was.

One day, my dad thought that I was at my aunt's, he set up a meeting of our key suppliers from Korea at our home. He was through half the discussion, when I returned. He didn't notice me, so I managed to watch what was happening from a hole in the kitchen. I watched my dad play them with ease and he was reaching a point where he was about to strike the winning blow.

I threw the door open and shouted "This is unacceptable". Everyone turned to look at me. I rattled out what I knew of what was happening, and told them that their offer made no sense to me, and I didn't see any reason why my dad would even consider taking it.

There was a silence in the room. Silence that you could cut and serve on plate to a room that was starved for words. Finally, someone did something.

It was a Korean. He got up, looked me straight in the eye, walked to my dad, handed him a piece of paper, whispered something into his ear and the entire team walked out.

I stood dumbstruck. My dad gave me the most stern look I have known him to possess. He looked at the paper and told me. "Never, never again", he started sternly, as he handed me the paper, "Never, never again leave my side". He burst out laughing.

The Koreans had reduced the supply rates by half.

I was delirious. Soon, my dad did the base talks, I simply jumped in and hit the ball out of the park. When this new negotiating specialist firm opened in Washington, dad said I should give it a shot.

"He's done what no one else can and no one else will.", my boss continued. "Our clients are happy, our management is happy, I'm happy. You'll have to wake up very early in the day to beat our man Jim"

He was happy and also very drunk! I slipped out, grabbed a couple of beers and slept on the couch. I was alone. Never had much luck with girls. What was their line? You take us apart with your words. Never managed to sustain a conversation with them for more than a few minutes.

But I loved my life. I did what I enjoyed. Got paid silly to do it (Mom would have blushed if he saw my pay cheque and the gifts the clients sent me). Things were good.

A wry smile teased my lips as I thought about the times of the past. Those sure were good days. My job responsibilities had increased. I was handling bigger and bigger clients. When one day, the biggest job I had ever seen landed on my table. My eyes bulged out. The commission we would earn from this job alone, would cover an entire financial quarter's earning.

Here I was then standing in this place. Waiting to meet the people who would create a golden bullet point in my resume. I had spent the past three months gathering everything I could about our 'target' company and our client. I pored over every number, investigated every decimal and wrecked havoc on our coffee machine. The people at office were placing bets whether the caffeine would kill me first or the nicotine.

Neither did, as I stood at the pavement ready to figuratively throw my briefcase at the target party. 'Relax, you've done this a million times before. Just swoop in and swoop out'.

I didn't notice a black Merc gliding to a smooth halt in front of me. When the driver pressed the brakes, the noise stopped my senseless ramblings in a hurry.

What happened next was a series of events, not events spread apart, but events that were milliseconds away, which my eye and mind captured like snapshots in flashes.

A driver got down and ran to the rear, paused a bit at the door.

A sleek, heeled leg pushed out. I stared at it in disbelief. Heels.. women? The target company was sending women!?

Soon I realized that the leg would have to be attached to something - and she stepped out. She was wearing shades. The dark shades set off her milky face, so that it presented a picture of perfect contrast.

As I took in detail by detail, I realised that she was not wearing any make up. Which made her more stunning that I could ever imagine possible.

Her fingers were caressing her phone which was a sleek model that you see the ads these days. Only, they looked so much better in hers. I noticed her lips were moving as well. My ears sprang to life from sensual shock and what it tuned into was poetry, melodic and heavenly. Her diction was perfect. Her words were impressive. The effect, stunning.

Another hand ran over her dress, she was wearing a nice white shirt, covered by a silky cream coat, that almost seemed to pass the baton of perfection to a smooth, black skirt that swished mischievously as she walked towards me.

She gave the driver a nod and he bowed low and he got into the car. I got the feeling that if could bow any lower than he would.

In all the time that I had spent noticing her, I realised that she was still had not realised that I was present. I walked up, surprised that my legs were slow to start, and pushed myself up to a decent distance, when my nose, which had been complaining of being left out of all the action in front me, went into ecstasy - Perfume. Intoxicating.

As she walked towards me, she brushed her long silky hair away from the face, and for a moment I lost track of what I was supposed to do; look at her face, admire her hair or simply drool.

I was put out of the misery of answering that question, when she stopped in front of me and raised a well trimmed eyebrow. It slowly dawned on my overloaded brain that it was my turn to speak.

"I'm Jim. Jim Burke. From Dela Associates. I .. er.. have been sent,er.. will represent the interests of .."

"Donna Rose, pleasure!"

She got back on the phone. She was British. She was talking into her phone again. I had never felt like a bigger fool all my life.

She was sophisticated, sounded intelligent and looked hubba-hubba. I found myself admiring her all over again. When could I hear that voice again? As if on cue, she suddenly turned towards me. "Are we going to talk here or do you have a better place in mind?"

"Er.. right this way ..", I said sheepishly. I led her to the conference room close by. I held the door open for her. She slid in without so much as an appreciatory glance.

She sat down on one side of the table, crossed her legs, put her hair in place and stared at me.

"Jim, this thing is not going to work for us"

Okay, I was used to this. Hard ball upfront, I should have countered with "Then I don't see why we're here". But I found my mouth saying "What seems to be the problem?"

One part of my brain was saying "She said your first name, score! score!"
Another part worried, "She's so pretty. She'll cry if you run a hard deal. Go easy on her"
A third part was saying, "Are you guys serious? We have a deal to cinch here. Get with it!"

The third part was found murdered very mysteriously.

The rest of the meeting went as per plan.

Her plan that is. All my tactics faded into nothingness. She would say the most simplest of things, and my counter would take a vacation.

At one point, I managed to pull in enough courage to make a good point. One look at her deep blue eyes, I was afraid she'd break down and cry.

Worse.

She smiled. She said "Really?", and then changed the topic.

The whole thing lasted 3 hours in my head. I knew. I was counting her eye-blinks. In reality, it lasted just 15 minutes.

She got up. She held her hand out. "Pleasure doing business with you, Jim". She smiled. My hands were sweaty.

I walked her out, or rather she walked out and I followed her, my memory conjuring, for some strange reason, images of sheep!

As she reached her waiting Merc, she turned around sharply on her heel. Her heel.
"Good day, Mr. Burke"

She left. At least most of her did. I was clinging to all the whiffs I could get off her perfume, till there was no more.

And then, I collapsed. It dawned on me that I may not have an office to go to tomorrow. I may not have a job to attend tomorrow. I may not be as happy as I was a couple of months back when nothing could go wrong.

And definitely, not as happy as the man who was strangely brimming with joy next to Ms. Rose in the Merc.

Definitely not as happy as the Korean.

--

Author's Comments:
I've seen guys, the best of them ,get intimidated by suave ladies. It's something that Darwin wanted to write about, but then chose to talk about birds and bees instead. This story was fictional. It was thought up because I was under extreme pressure to deliver in a month end. Doesn't make sense. Sure sonny, nothing does!

This is my first short story. Tell me what you think. Post in the comments

Soap-y Deepawali

2007-02-22T12:29:00.000+04:00

The Story begins:

Jayam Ravi is beaten up with repeated blows to his head, by some villains who are so scary-looking, that the very sight of them could necessitate a booking at the GH. In spite of about a dozen hits with a pole on his head, Ravi still staggers and manages to retain most of his brain inside his head, the queer way that Tamil heroes are capable of doing. The villains decide that they’ve had enough of playing Gilli danda with the hero’s head, and decide that they should probably try to kill him some nobler way. So, they drag into the middle of NH-4 and put him right in the path of oncoming traffic. Suddenly, a lorry obliges everybody; the driver puts his pedal to the metal, and manages to crash into pur hero and knock him off, not quite so gracefully, into the bushes nearby.

And then, in yet another miraculous tribute to the saga that is Kollywood, our hero lets out a puff of breath and he’s alive again. Hooray! Someone start the flashback sequence please!

A nail biting, hair raising, spine tingling, popcorn stuffing beginning to the movie Deepawali starring Jayam Ravi and Bhavana. The movie was so good that I managed to stay awake for most of the first part. The second half was better and the director managed to avoid some worn down clichés, the avoidance of the biggest one at the end turning out to be the movie’s coup de grâce.

Anyone who saw this movie would surely remember a couple of things other than the main plot. One of these things is Godrej No.1. It’s there almost everywhere in the movie. I decided to clap every time I saw it. I counted up to 8 times. It’s very visible in some scenes, for example there is a scene when both of them celebrate Holi (that’s right Holi, not Diwali). There’s a poster behind them that one can see for quite a long time (poster supply: courtesy Chennai depot).

The placement in the movie was very good. A shop had been put up that was full of Godrej No.1 merchandise and was in a place where most of the drama was unfolding.

There were posters around the set where the film was shot. Our man in the media had done a wonderful job in getting all the spots that we had asked for. Maybe, in future movies, we could ask him to ensure that there is better focus and the camera does not swivel past our hoardings. Also the huge Godrej No.1 hoarding did not come into to the frame clearly for most part of the movie.

The other company in the movie whom I really appreciated was Avitaa Masala. They had more placements and were more visible than we were.

The best scene for us in the movie was incidentally a big joke for the Chennai team as well.

In the movie was a scene where Bhavana goes into Ravi’s bathroom and picks up his soap – hold your breath, Godrej No.1 Lavender!
She takes bath with it, when she comes out of her shower, Ravi is waiting for her. He smells her and asks,

Ravi : “Mmmm, yen soap pootu kullichiya?” “Mmmm (smells good), did you use my soap?”

To which our distributor Ganesh, who was in the audience, gets up and shouts

Ganesh: “Adhu avan soapu illay ma, yen soapu, yen soapu” “That’s not his soap. The soap’s mine. The soap’s mine”

Yep, he’s the guy who supplied the stock for the movie.
Ravi got Bhavana. Ganesh is wondering when he’ll get his money. Till then, he promises to keep watching the movie over and over again.

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum!

2007-01-29T11:01:00.000+04:00

There's always a lot of things I keep putting down in my secret book of Things To Do Before I Die.

However, I have this uncanny knack of losing the book every time it gets filled a few lines.

Today, I found one of those items listed at a blog . The link there actually lists how you can talk like a pirate and get away with it.

Too bad, if I had my book with me I could keep my appointment at the pearly gates!

Arrr! Shivers me timbers I tells you ! Arr!

Star Guru Not-So-Cool

2007-01-13T23:07:00.000+04:00

News channels these days don't have a lot to talk about. I imagine the ratings and air-time must be a big problem. Here's the chief-in-chief of a soon-to-be-buried news channel talking at a boardroom.

"Okay guys. Here's the scoop. From now on we don't air anything unless it has something to do with someone in the Middle East, bomb blasts, rapes, executions, murders or tidal waves. For those of you who think the news is getting too depressing, throw some Mallika Sherawat in there. Oh .. and just in case you don't find anything still, do a movie review."

So it came as no surprise to me, when I switched on Star News today and realised that nothing sinister had happened in the world lately. The channel had decided to do a review of just released Mani Ratnam movie 'Guru'. They had decided that it wasn't big enough to fit a half hour slot, so they did the next best thing. They fit it into a four hour slot.

So for a good part of the morning, you could switch on your TV to find the big B being interviewed about the movie. Apparently, they could not get his son to comment, so Daddy did all the talking. He said that he thought the movie was fabulous (we can't believe you'd say that, by the way do you share a bank account), the music was great, Mallika sizzled and Aishwarya expressed herself very well in the movie. In the end, he managed to shed a few tear drops of 'joy' which the star-eyed reporter and his zoom-happy cameraman managed to lap up.

When they got bored of doing the Big B, bit they did a Dhiru Vs Guru comparison. The movie is supposed to be based on the life of Dhirubhai Ambani. Which is a good thing to know, but then the joblessness at the news channel must be at an all time high. It points out that among other things, both of them hold their hands to their chins when they are happy. News you can use people!

I won't attempt a review here, but can someone please tell me what Madhavan and Vidya Balan were doing in the movie. Were they only there to put Guru's softer side on display? They didn't do much. What they did I wish they hadn't given my feelings for the latter.

And here's a nice tip if you haven't seen the movie. When Gurukant comes for his first day of trading and runs up the stairs, check out the white wall on his left. There are two posters. One is Kagaz ke Phool. The other is a Mithun Da starrer. See if you can spot it!

And after everything has been said about everything, I save the postscipt for the belle. Mallika did what she does best. She gave the people their money's worth and news channels something to air.

Freeze Word 1

2007-01-13T22:14:00.000+04:00

Benchmark:
IT people keep using the word benchmark all the time. "We need to benchmark ourselves to the best in the industry". I used to wonder where the word came from. Was it a mark that was placed on benches that people sat on? Well, the actual origin is more logical.. engineerically logical.

A "benchmark" was originally a mark cut into a stone or a wall by surveyors measuring the altitude and/or level of a tract of land. The cut was used to secure a bracket called a "bench" upon which they mounted their measuring equipment, and all subsequent measurements were made in reference to the position and height of that mark. Voila, "benchmark," which first appeared in English around 1842, and quickly began to be used figuratively in the "standard of quality" sense we see today.

Arabian Sukkar:

Checkmate comes from Shah Mat - The King is dead
Coffee comes from Kahveh which originally meant wine
Sugar comes from Sukkar for (ahem) sugar
and my favorite:
Mocha comes from Al-Mukah, a city in Yemen where wild Ethiopean coffee beans were brokered from which fine coffee could be made

"I'll have a Cafe Mocha with no Sugar please. Waleikum Assalam"

Fear Factor : Iyer Edition

2007-01-13T21:48:00.000+04:00

"So where are you from"
"Chennai"
"Which part of Chennai"
"(Area in Chennai)"
"Which company do you work for"
"(company name)"
"That's nice."

The lady who just had this conversation with me was all smiles. I couldn't understand what part of it pleased her so much. My mom, standing next to me, was beaming with joy.

Cut to a few minutes ago, my mom and I were shopping happily in a nice shop biding time for a movie. As I went to the cash counter to pay up, she tugs my elbow and introduces me to an old gentleman and his wife.

The man is apparently my dad's doctor. Yes, my dad's doctor. As usual, he's 'heard all about me' and is 'pleased to meet me'. Then the spotlight is taken over by his wife who after few innocuous questions, gets straight to chase, the third degree.

The conversation above.

After the conversation is over, we leave; the two ladies looking at each other like two girls who just found a new place to hide their dolls.

When we step out I tell my mom to stop grinning and tell what's she so happy about. "That lady, the doctor's wife, who just spoke to you; they have a marriageable daughter"

Then reality sinks in. I realised that I had just been 'checked out' by some Maami I had never before met in my life! She was asking me personal questions that I would never have divulged to anybody. And she did so boldly, without informing me of her intent, also slyly taking advantage of the 'your-dad-is-a-patient-of-my-husband' factor. Added to that she asked me all the questions. Not my mom. She probably wanted to know what I sounded like. I wonder what stopped her from asking me what my bank balance was, how many girl friends I had, what car I drove, whether I had a spare copy of my horoscope in my wallet?! (I'm sure mom would have flashed it out of her purse in a jiffy)

Was I disgusted, ashamed, embarrassed? Yes all of that, but above all I was annoyed .. annoyed that my mom didn't let me in on the game sooner.

I'd have sucked my tummy in.

Losing My Virginity

2006-06-25T21:49:00.000+04:00

I have these lonely spells in my life. These are those days in my life, when I come back from a hard day’s work to find the gloom of the house sitting patiently on the house waiting to welcome me. Once the formalities are over between the both of us, I wonder what to do. You can’t carry on a conversation with loneliness for a long time, with something inside your mind tell you that you're nuts.

It’s about then that you hear a deep burning hungry desire inside you. It troubled me that I had to do something to put it out. I picked up the phone to call the number where I knew there would be trained professionals who were experienced in making sure that I would be put out of my misery, as they had done time and time again in the past.

‘Good Evening! This is Chef Express, how may I help you?’ the familiar voice at the other end of the line greeted me. I gave him my number and asked what offer was going on. He told me that nothing much was happening, but I could get some cheap and good pizzas. He said the magic ‘c’ word. All the Indian instincts in me sprang up at the mention of the word. I ended up ordering a Mexican Picantè. It sounded classy, who knows maybe I would hit the jackpot this time around.

As I look back, I can almost never remember a time when I did not have some problem with an order that I placed over the phone. It gets delivered late, the guy comes late, they mess up the order, there are some items missing … I’ve been at the receiving end at the hall of shame of home deliveries.

The guy arrived on time for a change. I reckoned that my luck had changed. I munched on the garlic bread peacefully, delaying the moment when I would feast on pizza-in-waiting. It’s a bad habit that I have. I always save the best for the last.

Finally, I opened up the Mexican delicacy and I was stunned. Panner! I never order paneer in my pizzas. I also didn’t remember the guy including paneer in the toppings for the Picanté. Well, whatever it was, there was paneer on my pizza and it was pleading with me to eat it. So I obliged. I carefully picked out one piece and put it in my mouth.

Freeze that moment.

This was a very important second in my life. A second that I would never forget. The precise second that I lost my 25-year hard-fought, staunchly-defended Tamil Iyer virginity.

As I raced towards the sink, I realized that it was the first time in my life that any member of the chicken species had managed to make into my palates.

And I’m sure you’re asking, but even though I wouldn’t admit it to myself … yes … it was good.

A Day in the life of an ASM … Not!!

2006-06-06T17:27:00.000+04:00

4/6/6: Officially the people in Madras don’t know what to do here now that the elections are over. The unanimous decision has been to take bath to beat the heat. So soaps are selling and I still have a job today. I went for a distributor’s party yesterday. They had invited all the company people of the various companies that they were handling. It was the first time I have ever heard of such a thing. Generally, it’s the company that calls all its distributors to a party. Anyway, I reached there and found to my surprise that I was the only ASM who had turned up. The organizers did not have much difficulty in figuring out a chief guest for the day. My feelings about the same were given no consideration. So with much feigned modesty, I took up the centre seat and had people sitting around me facing an audience.

While I had some difficulty in figuring out how position my elbow, how many times to sip the water and how to lean over and say the funny things that people in my position so easily do, I overheard the MC saying ‘And now our beloved ASM will share a few words’. Before I could put together a decent protest, a mike and a pin drop silence were held in front of my face.

I apologized to any staunch Tamilians present for the murder that I was going to commit there. When I got some measured laughter in response, I rattled on about families and businesses. The applause I got lasted a few seconds, but went on for minutes in my mind. Had I announced chief minister candidacy, there and then, I was sure to make a few votes at least. After that I had to hand over some gifts to people. The usual ‘Shake-Speak-Gift-Hold-Smile-Click-Shake-Bye’ procedure. Only this time I was at the giving end. Then someone came up and handed me a small package as a small token of their appreciation.

We had a buffet lunch, where for decency sake; I restricted myself to one serving of the food and three servings of the dessert. After that I went around shaking everyone else’s hand now a seasoned campaigner for the next MLA seat. After that I had an escort, walk me out all the way to the gate of the hotel. After I finally got him to leave, I eagerly tore open my little package. My eyes popped out of their sockets.

Staring at me quietly and innocently inside the box was a beautiful Titan Gold plated watch with a humble brown leather strap. While I gulped at how I could not accept this kind of a gift and how it was so improper for them to offer me something so expensive, I silently blocked off 4th of June 2007 for a ‘Do-not-Miss’ appointment. ;)

Which Mouse?

2006-06-06T17:26:00.000+04:00

During my pretentious reading of management books during my MBA, I will never forget one book that I truly enjoyed reading. ‘Who moved my cheese’. I think the main reason I liked the book was because you were given an option to forget that it was a management book, where inevitably you would try to ferret out examples to quote in the classroom or a group discussion.

I always thought that I was the mouse that kept changing with the times. ‘Today’s cheese may be good, but who’s going to take care of tomorrow’s cheese’. Well what if I’m actually the big fat mouse who keeps eating everything. The cheese is the job and the change is the shift. While everyone (I mean everyone) around me running at a break neck pace to get new business cards for themselves, in the name of moving up, but mostly for the want of fatter wallets, I seem stupidly content at just staying put in the middle of this frenzy of activity.

Let me put down my justification for not switching on screen and let me say if it can convince the cynical me :

- There’s nothing wrong with my job right now. Nice boss, nice team, nice performance. No nagging complaints there.
- By industry standards, I would be earning good;
- There is too much goodwill to be lost

There’s no need and there is no desire. I always like to say that I take the road not taken. Isn’t this like the share market and the secret to cracking it... when everyone buys, sell; when everyone switches, stick.

And when everyone runs around you, just settle into a chair and grab some more cheese.

Madras .. It’s Hot

2006-06-06T17:24:00.000+04:00

Experiencing Chennai in the summers can easily be arranged at anyone’s home. All that is required is a small hairdryer, an oven and the tonic that made Alice shrink in the wonderland story.

First take the hairdryer, blow it at full speed and point it directly between your eyes. That would give you a fair idea of the prevailing wind conditions in this place. One may be tempted to blow the hair dryer somewhere else fore a while, but the firmer the resolution, the more enhancing the experience.

After that, one must take a gentle sip of the potion and once shrunk to the size of a small chicken, should hop into the oven and sit there for a while. Temperature on Deep Fry. That’s the nearest to what all derma on your body feels when you are at the mercy of Chennai’s merciless sun. What I can’t figure out is how do the firangs adore sun bathing so much. Does making their skin look like Chicken 65 actually make them look better? If that were true, then can someone please explain to me why Fair and Lovely sales are booming in the South? As always, I guess god wrenched the spanner of unrest into our minds when we were made. Satisfaction is a virtue that one possesses only upto the point that one hears ‘A for Apple’. It’s all downhill from there.

A Glimpse at what to expect

2006-03-16T08:58:00.000+04:00

I have a fancy for the orderly (orderly, not elderly). Maybe it’s a good idea if I can put dwon what I plan for the articles ahead.

This blog is what I look at as my online diary. Of crazy thoughts. If you’re reading and you’re a girl, this blog is intrinsically fulfilling your voyeuristic desires. If you’re a guy, then I ask you “Why?” If you have answer to that question, GO AWAY!

This blog will have scenes from my life. I usually find that kooky thoughts always spring to attention when I look at something for sometime. I will introduce you each of these Kooky Thoughts. Maybe we can think of names for them.

It will have sparks of wit and oodles of perv. I think that’s the way the world likes world likes it these days. Look at the weighted average of time audience spend watching Shakthi Kapoor with his humor and Malaika Arora.

For some strange reason the going will get very philosophical. That is because I was born with a birth defect. Half of me thinks that I'm me.. the other half thinks I’m Neo ;)

But on a serious note, I think that these blogs are a nasty manifestation of technology. People willfully put their private parts in the public and watch everyone stare at it, up and down. Chi!

I think that should do for a small jhalak. Not Bad? Dekthe Rehna!

F, tD