~* I d e a s f o r L i f e *~

Untitled - Prelude

2007-10-23T19:27:00.000-07:00

"You're so irresistible! I'd flirt with you even if you were married..." quipped Sanjay.

"So marry me" came the flirtatious, yet confident reply.

"Sneha, will you marry me?" laughed Sanjay.

"You jerk! You're better than I thought!" protested Sneha

"I'm only a little better than you..." smiled Sanjay.

"Hmmmm..." came the retort.

"I'd flirt with you even if you were married....... TO ME" declared Sanjay.

"Sanju, I love what's happening between us...but I'm scared of losing it." quivered Sneha.

"Baby, have you heard of the saying 'everything happens for the good’?”

"Well, this is happening for the BEST" came the reassuring reply.

"Good night, sweet heart. Love you! *click*" the phone line went blank.

Sneha clutched on to the receiver, mesmerized and thinking deeply. On one hand, she felt good about what was happening and on the other, her mind was reeling episodes of love. Another love. Estranged and now let out like a bottle of worms.

Desi Acknowledgement

2007-10-11T16:31:00.000-07:00

The United States is a very warm country when it comes to extending courtesy. People here always let others in first, hold the door open for you, maintain a good two-feet distance while talking, and excuse themselves for crossing your path. Honking is a rare event and only seen during a road rage. Drivers stop their car to let you cross the street first and smile at you! The fact that pedestrians have the right of way is a law but is an enjoyable example of courteous behavior.

Now, the adaptive bunch of people that we are, the average desi has absorbed the American way of life and apes it well. Gults yank their desi English accents producing a unique tongue, or more often just
stick to their usual Indian English. The concept of neutral English is yet to catch up. But the United States being a melting pot and the adopted home to a bizarre number of cultures has its own rainbow of verbal accents ranging from West-European to Mexican all the way to the very shy East Asian Chinky. Even the 'American' accent is as varied as Southern Yanky, Bad Nigga, and the dumb Blonde. Considering this heterogeneity, the desi Gult accent is not bad a fit and is accepted just like any other. Its only back home that we pride our neutral accent and stalk the inarticulate of their parlance!

Another ramification of this acquired courteous behavior syndrome, which I’d like to call ACBS, is that one desi always acknowledges another with a nod or a smile - even strangers! A few over-friendly types even strike up a conversation with the clichéd "Hindi bolte ho?" icebreaker. Hmmm... Only if the desi could extend the same courtesy to brethren back home!

Glossary of Terms

Desi – Hindi word for fellow countrymen used when abroad
Gult(s) – Telugu speaking people hailing from Andhra Pradesh
West-European Languages – French, Italian, German
East-Asian Chinky – People from the Far East countries such as China, Korea, Malaysia and Japan.
Southern Yanky – White Americans from the southern states such as Texas.
Nigga – Colloquial for Nigger, African-American.
Hindi – The national language of India
(Translation) Hindi bolte ho? – Do you speak Hindi?

2007-01-16T11:16:00.000-08:00

Cats are swift animals. Not only are they fast, slender, and agile but amazingly smart animals. I've had three of them to know it too well.

Today, after about a round of Old Monk and two rounds of beer, I spotted a dead cat on my way home. The poor little thing was run over by some speed freak. It had it's heart and intestines hanging out of its abdomen, waiting for other drivers to run over what's left. Its skull was crushed and eyes popped out in almost an unimaginable, horrific fashion. Now, me & Nabeel, being the cat lovers that we are, decided to move the dead little kitty and pay last respects to her, lest another careless driver run over her cold corpse. We gently lifted her cold body and placed it by the pavement. Our hearts sank at the sight with the feeling we had while lifting her. The normally purry, warm animal felt so cold and lifeless. All we could think of was "may its soul rest in peace." After all, like us humans, animals too deserve to die respectfully and rest in peace. May be I should join PETA?

Gajaj leads Homosexual Parade with Gulsar

2006-10-12T00:46:00.000-07:00

By a staff reporter
October 12, 2006

As per AutoReport 2006, Gajaj Auto Ltd., leads the homosexual parade with their avant garde, top seller, the Gulsar motorcyle. Going by the cliché 'Definately Male', Gulsar has stirred up a storm in the Indian biking scene. With 8 out of 10 bikes sold being Gulsars, the biker tribe sure knows where to put its money.

Speaking to this reporter, Sunny Darling, 22, a Gulsar 180 owner said "I simply love my Gulsar 180. It is the best form of expression for me. You know so many guys check me out when I'm riding my Gulsar!"

Gajaj expects to sell about 30,000 units during the current fiscal. Rahul Gajaj, the MD of Gajaj Auto Ltd. said "The Gulsar is not just a bike. It is an expression and the voice of homosexuality in India. With the Gulsar, we aim to reach out to every guy who loves to ride a male motorcycle."

Gajaj Auto Ltd. will also be hosting the annual gay parade, ANALyze2006, where over 2000 homosexuals are expected to ride their Gulsars in a subjective formation.

Time for a new set of wheels

2006-10-08T12:53:00.000-07:00

After six years and over 1,00,000 gruelling kilometers, my Fiero is finally showing signs of wearing. The electricals seem to have a mind of their own. The chain and sprocket play dandiya while I ride. The engine seems tired and not very eager to go. The chasis is rusting from the outside. Well, all this despite spending a cool 5,000 bucks on maintenance just in June. When you find yourself spending more money on the bike's maintenance than it's fuel, it is official. It's time for a replacement. If I had it my way, I would give a twelve-gun salute for the kind of service she's given me before turning her into the scrap yard. But unfortunately or not, I see that she can easily run another 25,000 kms before going on life support. And moreover, my panwallah seems ever interested to have her. At least he'll have her riding on his daily rounds rather than his ancient BSA cycle.

So that being said, comes the question- what replacement? Going for anything less than 150cc would be a downgrade and no fun to drive. I'm not the mileage-conscious kinds. Haven't checked the Fiero's fuel efficiency in the last four years. And so I set my target segment as 150cc and above. And in this segment, I shortlist (in no specific order):

(a) Pulsar-150 v2 (with alloys)
(b) Pulsar-180 UG3 (with LED tail lights & digital speedo)
(c) Honda Unicorn
(d) Bullet Electra 350 (with electric start & disc brakes)
(e) TVS Apache
(f) Hero Honda Karizma

The Pulsar twins go straight out, thanks to their short-stroke, high-revving engines. In my opinion, the Pulsars sound like someone put a 50 paise coin in a tin can and shook it violently! Buying a Pulsar would be joining the rat race. Besides, there are more Pulsars in Mumbai than rats!

The Honda Unicorn with its docile looks and silky-smooth powerplant makes for a delectable option. However, with its poor build quality, cheap quality plastics, and bad service, one tends to think twice about a Unicorn. And so did I. Adios, amigos, my friend!

Many of my friends who own Bullets have suggested to me that I grab the opportunity and a bike for life - The Royal Enfield Bullet. The Electra or any other bike from the RE stable fails to impress me. Besides a huge displacement, these bikes have nothing spectacular. They do not perform as good as other bikes in their category nor do they use fuel frugally. However royal the name seems, these World War II technology monsters are only good for the Bullet Experience, for whatever that means! If I spent 87k on an Electra, I'd also be probably trying to convince myself about the ownership experience of a Bullet rather than its 0-60 times and top speed, let alone fuel efficiency. Premium pricing for a machine selling on pure goodwill!

The TVS Apache, rightly fits its tag line - It's now or never! I have to buy a new bike. It's now or never! With its super sexy looks, black alloys, and gas shocks, Apache is a formidable choice. Further strengthening the Apache's hold is the same, reliable Fiero engine - albiet a little more refined and more powerful. For once, TVS has got it's design and engine spot on! No wonder Apache become my first choice and it already is. Tarun already has a black Apache and having another one under the same roof makes no practical sense.

So finally everything boils down to the Karizma. Being Hero Honda's only long stroke, unstressed engine, the Karizma makes a whopping 17bhp at just 7000 rpm. With oodles of low-end torque and a maximum torque of 18.35nm @ 6000 rpm, the Karizma comes across as a no-non-sense, reliable, long term performer. The Pulsar 180 might be just half a bhp behind. But as they say, there is no replacement for displacement! Priced at 81,475 (OTR, Vashi), the Karizma does burn a big hole into my pocket! With a maximum expectable fuel effiency of just 35 kmpl, the Karizma is sure to demand a lot of pampering. But as they say, everything comes at a price. Currently, no other bike fits my bill. How I wish they began producing the good old Fiero again.

Ideas, anyone?

Make Love

2006-08-18T18:00:00.000-07:00

Sliding fingers through your hair,
Besieges a gentle clasp in arduous flair.
You draw closer, our bodies sway,
A warm sigh, répondez s'il vous plaît?

Lips tease your earlobes high,
Caress your cheek, a deeper sigh!
Eyes sparkle with a lusty buckle;
Quizzing social rules, you chuckle.

Mellow aroma floods the air,
“Hold me in your arms”, you swear.
While the love candles burn,
Fears melt, rules spurn.

Caress your lips; you close your eyes,
Should you resist? Not quiet.
Eyes meet, you grow weaker,
Now, you are my pleasure seeker.

Bodies drop, hearts meet,
Gentle warmth, to a mature beat.
Passion melts fears antique,
When we make love, like our hearts bespeak.

Missionaries

2006-05-03T03:01:00.000-07:00

Missionaries
Originally uploaded by mercurian.

The gateway of India is a national monument located in Mumbai, India. It is not uncommon to find pesky photographers urging tourists to pose in front of the monument or the Taj Mahal hotel for a quick photograph in return for a small sum. What's more, they even guarantee delivery of the print in half-an-hour flat! These three nuns visiting the city, had one such pesky photographer pestering them to get their photo clicked. After fighting much temptation, the younger of the nuns decided to not have their photo clicked. The older nun, meanwhile, shooed the photographer away and reminded the younger nuns that their lives were dedicated to the service of the King, Lord Jesus Christ.

Tourist

2006-04-30T03:00:00.000-07:00

Got my defy-zero last week. Went down town, shooting enviromental portraits. Here's one. More of it is here.

Boy Meets Girl - Chapter 3

2006-03-22T17:15:00.000-08:00

Friendly Note from the Author: After a long gap, many requests, and some protests, Chapter 3 is finally here! If you haven't already, you should read the Prelude, Chapter 1, and Chapter 2 before reading this chapter.

It was 11.30 on a Sunday morning. Varun opened his eyes to a cloudy vision of his room. His head hurt and he felt extremely nauseous. For a moment, Varun could not recollect where he was, what he was doing laying down, or why he felt so sick. The only things on his mind were Priya and a very deep sense of sorrow.

"Godamnit! What happened last night?" Varun said to himself while trying to pull himself out of his bed. He reached for his cell phone, and checked the time. The phone had no missed calls or messages. It reminded him of a time when always found a good morning message from Priya. Varun and Priya had an unsaid understanding. The first one to wake up would wish the other with a romantic message, and it was Priya on most occasions.

"No such luck!" thought Varun while brushing his teeth.

While he tried hard to keep his mind off Priya, he couldn't help but wonder what made him get into such an emotional state the previous night. He thought, if she could get over him and move on with life, so could he. He was a guy, after all. And guys were known and expected to be insensitive and emotionless. Suddenly, Varun found himself thinking with his head instead of his heart. He had to get over Priya and get on with his life. But first, he had to set things straight. He had to end his deal with Priya. Officially. He had to terminate the contract, so to speak.

Varun flipped his phone to type a message.

I nd 2 talk 2 u. Can v meet?

Before Varun could settle down to sip his coffee, his cell phone beeped.

"That's fast!" thought Varun while opening the message. It was a message from his service provider, coaxing subscribers to download ring tones, wallpapers, and other jazz for the upcoming Valentines Day.

"I care a fuck about Valentines day! Do you mind?" exclaimed Varun and threw his phone on the table.

While Varun just about finished sipping his coffee, his cell phone beeped again. This time, it was Priya.

Wht do u wanna talk? Do u even talk? U only fite with me! Am sorry, I hv bttr things 2 do.

Although the tone of Priya's reply wasn't totally unexpected, Varun could see a ray of hope somewhere within it. Turmoil of the sorts waged in his mind. Suddenly, he felt his heart taking over his sensibilities. What he thought was a decision ten minutes back, suddenly felt like the hardest thing to do. With his mind entangled in confusion and heart swaying to Priya's side, Varun flipped his phone and typed a message.

I'm sorry. I prmise I wont fite. V'll talk. Cafe Exprs at 12.30?

With the recent spate of events between them, Priya's new-found attention for Atul, and Neeraj's advice for a better girl on one side and his deep feelings for Priya on the other, Varun's mind and heart played Battlefield Vietnam. While Varun held is temples to soothe the mental anguish and a bad hangover, his cell phone beeped yet again.

Ok. B on time!

Varun smiled to himself. Priya agreeing to meet at Café Express and he knew things were already getting better. He was notoriously famous for being late for dates. Priya often taunted him that with his timings, he would easily turn up a couple of hours late for their wedding. She claimed she would then marry the cutest guy present in the guests.

Smiling again, Varun began dressing up to meet Priya and thought to himself "Can things end where they started? Life always plays these tricks on me! "

While Varun got ready to meet Priya, his mind began replaying the sweet memories of his first date with Priya at Café Express.

On Religion and Nationality

2006-03-20T14:45:00.000-08:00

Recently, a Muslim friend of mine presented me with a forestalling thought over a couple of beers. He expressed his anxiety and fear that Muslims in India were a minority and things were going to get worse for them. He said, with the political parties in India adopting the Hindutva philosophy, the future for Muslims in this country was not very bright. He was also quick to point of that although Islam being a religion that professes peace and humanity, many extremist had tarnished the real Islam, bringing it to the fateful state it is in today. He said that whenever there is terrorist activity in any country, the prime suspects are Islamic militants. More than being mere suspects, they are often responsible for the activity. This has lead the world to look down upon Islam and consider it a potential threat to world peace. He also spoke how his US visa was rejected just because his passport had a Pakistan visa stamped on it.

Now, I completely agree to what he had to say. It is true that Islam has gained itself an image of notoriety and extremism, much to the displease of many level-headed, secular Muslims like him. But I do not agree that Muslims are a minority. May be they are less in number compared to Hindus in India, but they certainly are not a minority. This country belongs to Muslims as much as it does to the Hindus or any other religious community living in this country as Indians. Politicians may preach Hindutva and try other gimmicks to fill up their vote banks. For example, the newly-founded Maharashtra Navnirman Sena, has over 10,000 Muslim supporters in Mumbai alone. And the number is fast growing. Ironically, it was the parent political party, Shiv Sena, which publicly expressed intolerance towards not only Muslims, but all non-Maharashtrians.

This country, with its new-found technical prowess and a secular, neutral, and level-headed current generation, is not a Hindu kingdom. It was founded as a democratic nation, and will continue to remain so, not only officially, but also in reality. People, who call themselves Indians, have to truly believe that they do belong to this country. They should stop living as a minority or guests in this country. Only when non-Hindus truly take pride in being Indians and treat this country as their own, will they progress. Only when the people of a country progress, does the country progress. Take for example, the Bollywood industry. Do Hindus hate watching a Salman Khan or an Amir Khan movie? Or do the Muslims prefer to stay away from an Anil Kapoor movie? No wonder it is a multi-billion dollar industry!

This subject reminds me of a heated argument I had with a Catholic friend during the 9/11 attacks. While I was expressing my hatred towards the Islamic extremists and attacks on a free nation, she turned to me and said, "Whenever there is a religious outbreak in this country, we Catholics will take refuge in the US and UK. Muslims will flee to Arab lands. What you Hindus will be left is only the Indian ocean!"

We live in a modern world that is far removed from religion. It is not the 17th century when religion was a way of life. In today's world, what counts is industrial development, IT industry, oil, and the economic ranking of the country. If you have the money, you are a superpower. If you don't, you are Somalia. What counts is money. Everything starts for money, and ends in money. If not, US wouldn't attack Iraq of the pretext of WMD. Pakistan wouldn't want Kashmir on the pretext of 'freeing' it's Muslim brethren from the evil clutches of India!

What I fail to understand is that how can a religion determine one's nationality or support for a country? Do non-Hindu Indians think they are guests here and their true land is the US, UK, or any of the Islamic republics? Do they think their so-called true lands will welcome them? Would these countries accept a million people just because they follow the official religion of their state? Would they axe their own economy in trying to accommodate their so-called brethrens? In reality, what they really do is treat Indians as second-grade citizens and make them slaves to their economy, regardless of their religion.

On the contrary, India gives each Indian, regardless of his or her religion, equal opportunities and a first-grade citizenship. I know caste systems, riots, and philosophies professed by political parties do shake beliefs, but India as a whole stands by for its people. It is only fair that the non-Hindu Indians realize that this is their country and express solidarity towards their motherland - India.

Blank Noise Project: Solution v0.1a

2006-03-10T03:46:00.000-08:00

If it's a project, it's gotta have a solution! Here's the beta...

Women have always been victims of sexual harassment on the street. Of late, I have read a lot of such stories - stories of women, recounting their harrowing experiences on the street. From women being molested in public, to strange men feeling up their privates, to perverts masturbating on women commuters at railway stations, there are so many stories out in the open, thanks to the Blank Noise Project - a project that aims to recognize eve teasing as a sexual crime and establish the issue as something that may be normal, but is unacceptable. And many more exist, mostly untold and hidden in the deepest ravines of an affected woman's heart.

Many men and women have made their contribution to the project and shed light on this reality. I don't intend to just make a contribution. I intend to change the thinking and hope to eradicate sexual harassment on the street as such. I know being male, I can only read or listen to such stories. I will never experience it first hand. I will never be able to step into the shoes of a woman who has experienced such a thing. And when I do read and listen to such stories, I can't help but think what women could do to improve the situation and their chances when they become victims.

I also know it is easy to give advice, and even more, to give unsolicited advice. Women may already know of what I think might be a solution. My words may not be worth a penny. Whatever be the case, here are my thoughts that might improve the chances of woman to protect herself from being sexually harassed on the street.

Recognizing the Crime
Eve-teasing or street sexual harassment, is a social stigma. It is a big problem that manifests itself through small incidents that occur to a large number of women on the streets. To eradicate this, what we need is change in our mindset, thinking, behavior, and most importantly social ranking of women.

Being Less Vulnerable
Like the predators that can sense fear in their prey, pervert men might actually sense the vulnerability in women. Once the prey is vulnerable, a prospective perpetrator’s job is already half done. Take for an instance, a woman standing in a crowded railway station platform. She tries hard to avoid the gazes from men. She stops 'being herself' and pretends to look 'nowhere'. She cocoons herself and turns a blind eye to the truth that several men are gazing at her, with not-so-friendly eyes. These gazes make her utterly uncomfortable and each passing second seems unbearable to her. By isolating herself, she becomes more vulnerable. While she looks nowhere, a pervert brushes past her, touching her where she hates it the most. She is caught unaware and before she can react, the pervert has disappeared in the crowd. Doesn't this happen everyday?

Being Brave & Bold
Another reason why women fall prey to eve-teasing is our culture. By culture, I don't only mean our Indian culture. Women throughout the world are considered the weaker sex, at least subconsciously. When you agree that you are the weaker sex, you get attention - both positive and negative. While chivalry, respect for being a woman, and being treated in a 'womanly manner' count as positive attention, sexual harassment, eve-teasing, rape, gang-rapes account for negative attention. Chivalry that women love is a classic example of this subconscious discrimination - even among women! Now, if women genuinely think they are equal to men and inculcate such thinking in themselves, they will automatically be a lot less weaker - emotionally and physically. They will cease to be exploitable. In my opinion, the key is to be BOLD and not expect any special treatment for being born a woman. Only then will the exploitation stop.

Being Prepared
Finally, besides being a lot less vulnerable, weak, and exploitable, being prepared for such situations can only be a positive step towards curbing such instances. Being prepared for such situation does not only mean carrying pepper sprays and joining the weekend Kung Fu/Karate class. The preparation has to start from the mind. Only when a woman truly considers herself equal to her male counterpart in every way, will she begin to be prepared to combat street sexual harassment.

So the next time you have men gazing all over you, hold your head up in confidence. Be bold, be brave, and most importantly be alert of the environment around you. When a pervert tries to brush past you, you will be able to slap him instantly. Or even better, move away before he succeeds and give him the "You suck!" look. Sharp, 'I'll-kill-you gazes' back at men do work. At least that's what many women have told me!

The Great Mumbai Surprise

2006-03-09T21:00:00.000-08:00

Today, Mumbai woke up to a pleasant surprise. Instead of the sun shining brightly like a typical March morning, the skies were full of dark clouds. I woke up to the thunder and lightning instead of my mobile-turned-alarm clock.

Experiencing the respite of the after-summer change in weather, before summer, was quiet an enchanting experience. I rode to work listening to the thundering, overcast sky, with the cool breeze blowing on my face. To match it all, I was in an equally zestful mood that I never even dreamt of on a March day. Doing nothing seemed like the only thing on my mind. It felt so monsoon. It felt so June.

Speaking of June, the zest for monsoon at the end of summer in me is quiet paradoxical. By the end of May, I pray for the rains. I pray for the thunder, lightning, and the first droplets that mark the end of the summer madness. By July, I'm sick of the rains. The puddles of mud, muck, grime, and traffic snarls get me praying for sunshine and respite from the endless showers that the heavens pour down on us. And yet another time, I see the great rules of life in effect. Anything in excess is undervalued. Anything in scarcity is valued, and often over valued. These rules seem to apply to almost everything in my life. And may be in others' lives too.

And such was the effect of the sudden, unexpected, unseasonal pour down today. The cloudy skies and the typical smell of wet soil sent me into a dreamy world. The weather was wet and gorgeous at a comfortable 23 degrees. Everyone seemed laid back. Probably, doing nothing was the only thing on their minds too. Through out the day, the overcast skies presented Mumbai with occasional drizzles, keeping the spirits up and the surprise going.

In the evening, the skies pulled a spectacular show. The dark monsoon clouds hovered low, threatening to pour down at a blink's notice. The sun drew outlines of the dark clouds. Puffy white clouds floated higher up, majestically matching the deep blue sky that formed the canopy for this show by nature. It was a mosaic up there, with all the members of the sky putting up their best show. Just when I thought I was seeing the best, out came another spectacular surprise. A huge rainbow formed in the southern skies, sending cheers among people, known and unknown. All this for a March day, I thought, was truly unbelievable.

#7 on Interestingness @ Flickr

2006-02-10T01:23:00.000-08:00

Serene by Night
Originally uploaded by mercurian.

I'm pleasantly surprised to find the photo I clicked last night in the list of top 10 photos for 09.02.2006.

I must admit it feels great to see my photo among the best. Thank you everyone for appreciating my art!

Cheers!

Boy Meets Girl - Chapter 2

2006-02-02T16:30:00.000-08:00

It was 10.30 pm, and scene at Caspian Lounge had turned worse. Group of drunk guys were yelling the lyrics of Comfortably Numb in an attempt to sing along. An obese guy with his beer goblet in one hand, and a cigarette in the other danced in unsynchronized steps, almost tripping over the waiters.

Varun, Neeraj, and Peter were on their fifth round of beer now while Irfan sipped from his third glass of Coke and blew smoke rings aimed at the ceiling. Varun and Peter spoke something about music, which Neeraj could not quiet follow - thanks to the loud music and the beer that was slowly beginning to affect his senses. Meanwhile, Varun's phone on the table moved left in two short steps. It was an SMS from Priya.

R u at Caspian Lnge? Me comin der wid frnds. Pls dnt crte a scene.

"So I'm now infamous for creating scenes" thought Varun and dropped the phone on the table.

"Everything alright, dude?" asked Neeraj.

"Yea man, all cool. Chill!" defended Varun and picked his phone to show the SMS to Neeraj.

"You deserve a much better girl, Varun. You need a Sonia in your life!"

Sonia was Neeraj's girl friend. She was a typically traditional girl, with good values and a subservient attitude. Neeraj thought she would make a perfect wife, who would keep him happy, respect his parents, and would be great to show around to the world.

"Forget it man, let's not talk about it!" blurted Varun with moist eyes and a rolling tongue. Neeraj found it difficult to conclude whether it was because of the beer, Priya or his reference to Sonia being a superior choice.

The music suddenly changed from rock to bhangra, with a group of new guys capturing the juke box. The room echoed with Gori naal ishq mitha now filling up the room. The group of girls sitting at the corner of the room broke into frenzy and started throwing their hands up in the air.

"God damnit! There are gonna be fireworks here!" yelled Neeraj signaling at Peter and then looking at the door.

Peter turned back to look at the door only to see Priya walking in with another dude of about 6ft. She wore a brown poncho top and a black skirt that perfectly suited her dusky complexion. Priya then waved at Peter, Neeraj, and Irfan before settling onto a table at the other corner of the room - away from Varun's sight.

"Dude, Priya is here..." said Irfan.

"I know. She's with another guy, isn't she?" blurted Varun.

"Uh....well.... she is with some really tall dude." said Neeraj nervously, trying not to affect Varun.

"I knew it. I knew it, she'll do something like this...." roared Varun and banged his fists on the table.

"That guy is Atul. Her ex-colleague. She always said "things" would have happened between them had I not come into her life. Bitch!" yelled Varun and drank the remaining of the beer in his goblet.

"Hey, chillax yaar. Come on, we're going bird-hunting to Bandra! Let's get some chicks for tonight!" exclaimed Neeraj in an effort to improve the mood at the table.

By now, Varun was too lost in his own thoughts to hear anything Neeraj said. Even the loud music did little to affect his intoxicated mind.

"Why did you do this to me, Pri. Why...?"
"Why do I love you so much? Why do you mean so much to me? Why can't I get rid of these emotions and think with my mind, just like you? I hate emotions..."

These thoughts did a cyclic jig in Varun's mind, leaving him completely lost and unsynched with the environment around him before he collapsed his head on the table.

Boy Meets Girl - Chapter 1

2006-01-31T19:30:00.000-08:00

It was a Saturday evening. Varun's cell phone had been ringing continuously since 6.30. Various friends from his different friend groups were calling Varun to join them for a drink, a drive, a movie, and a party and everything that youth do on a weekend. But Varun lay still on his bed, uninterested in anything worldly and social. He was depressed at the turn of events. He longed to be alone and peace his mind of the turmoil that had been waging for the last few days.

Blip blip, the phone lights flickered in harmony. It was another call that Varun wanted to avoid. After about three or four rings, Varun answered.

"Hello dude, what's up?" said the impatient voice.

"Oh hi, Neeraj. What's up? How're you doing?" replied Varun.

"Where the hell are you, man? We're waiting at Queen's gate for you!" yelled Neeraj.

"Oh, I'm home man. Don't feel like going out tonight. You guys carry on..." said Varun in a low tone.

"What bullshit, man? Are you on one of your solitary trips again? I want to see your ass here in the next ten minutes." commanded Neeraj.

Varun chuckled. He liked the informality he shared with Neeraj and replied, "Alright man. I'll be there in ten minutes."

"That's more like you, come fast, bye!" Neeraj hung up.

Varun drove his car straight to Queen's gate to meet Neeraj and gang. After a brief round of catching up, they were all headed to Caspian Lounge, a local lounge bar that had a juke box and was frequented by young crowds. The scene at the bar was that of a typical Saturday evening. Groups of four or five cramped around a small table littered with beer bottles, cigarette packets, ashtrays, and chakna.

We will rock you! blared out of the four speakers placed at four corners of the room. A couple of guys with long hair, wearing black t-shirts crowded around an LCD monitor placed on the bar counter. Another group of four women sat on a table across the room, drinking pinacoladas, bloody maries, and screw drivers. Their incessant and loud laughter drowned in the noise and could be heard only at the change of a song.

Varun, Neeraj, Irfan, and Peter headed for the empty table in the center of the room. Neeraj waved to waiter and shook hands with him before settling on to his chair.

"Call for some chilled beer man! My system is thirsty for some lager flowing down my throat" blurted Peter.

Peter was the typical maka-pav guy, brought up in an environment where beer was considered an alternative to water. His short spiky haircut matched his lean, dark body. Wearing a rock-band tee, and a goatee growing on his chin, Peter was the typical representative of the youth working at a call center.

"Haha! Looks like someone's gonna get drunk tonight" said Neeraj. Peter replied with a smirk and a nudge.

The waiter came to the table to take the order with a tiny pad in one hand and a pen in another.

"Two Fosters, one Coke, a packet of Classic Milds... and err.. Varun what are you having?" asked Neeraj.

"I'll have beer too, man!" replied Varun.

"Okay, make that three Fosters, one coke, and a packet of Classic Milds, thank you."

The waiter repeated the order and was on his heel to attend to other tables. Soon enough, there were four goblets placed on the table and beer was poured into three of them. Irfan, being a teetotaler, didn't mind joining his friends to bars but abstained from all forms of alcohol. The waiter emptied the can of Coke into Irfan's goblet and went to get the cigarettes and the ash tray. Soon enough, all glasses were full and the music was blaring - this time, it was Turn the page.

The four boys raised their glasses and yelled in unison, "Cheers to health, wealth and happiness!"

"And to Neeraj's new job!" added Varun.

After sipping about one-fourth of the beer in one gulp, Varun flipped his phone to type an SMS.

Hi swthrt, out wid guys. I hate wats hapenin. Miss u!

"Ohh, look at Mr.Loverboy! He can't stay without his girl friend a single evening!" commented Neeraj.

Varun replied to him with a blank stare. He picked up a cigarette from the packet and flipped his zippo with one hand and used the other hand to cover the cigarette. He looked up at the ceiling taking a long drag and closed his eyes.

"Did you check out the new Lancer Cedia? It's super cool man!" said Peter, interrupting Varun's thoughts.

"Yea man, it looks cool. Finally a makeover for the Lancer after so many years" said Neeraj.

The noise levels at the bar made each one yell to speak to one another. Irfan got up from his chair and headed towards the LCD monitor on the bar counter.

"Play some Floyd, man" exclaimed Peter.

Soon enough, the song changed to She will be loved. This song reminded Varun of Priya. It was his favorite song when he fell in love with Priya. The beer in his goblet, smoke in his lungs, and Priya in his mind were a perfect combination for a perfect Saturday evening of soltitude and misery, even while being around his good friends and his favorite type of music.

Boy Meets Girl - Prelude

2006-01-31T16:00:00.000-08:00

"Can you leave me alone, please!” he yelled on the phone.

"Oh Varun! You're just the limit! - click " came the reply.

Varun replayed the recent events in his head. For the last few days, such had been the tone of the conversation between Varun and his girl friend, Priya. The engaged tone on the phone line reminded Varun of a time when he spent hours talking to Priya. Each night, the duo in love would talk about everything from news, literature, poetry, gossip, love, relationships, marriage, and even the names of their unborn children. Everything was beautiful between them. They shared perfect understanding and Varun thought their mental frequencies matched.

"For once! For once, I thought I was stable in a relationship!" thought Varun and banged his fist on the table. Lately, everything between Varun and Priya had soured. Sour to the point of total lack of effective communication.

Flamingo Watch at Sewree, Mumbai

2006-01-30T17:00:00.000-08:00

Flamingos are the talk of the season. An article in TOI caught my attention to the fact that these birds have been coming to the Sewree mudflats only since the 90s. Moreover, the article estimated the number of birds at 15,000. After seeing the photo in the TOI, the photographer in me decided to get a few shots of these migratory birds. Even more so because I now had the confidence provided by the 70-300 zoom lens. Probably, the career-making kind of shots, I thought. After juggling my schedules and taking time out, I finally made it to the Sewree mudflats on Saturday, the 28th of January, 2006.

Getting to Sewree is the quickest by train. I took the 3.55 CST local from Vashi and reached Sewri at 4.25. Because Sewree is an intermediate station with no major human settlement around, getting off at the station was a breeze. The only structures one can find around Sewree station are the huge petroleum refineries, automobile workshops, and the road to the harbour. I walked out of the station, crossed the railway tracks, and reached a paan-tapri. I asked the guy there, "How far is the water from here?" He replied "You want to see birds? Just go straight from here" and pointed at a dirty road ahead of me. I thanked him for providing the directions and set forth.

The road was quiet desolate, considering it is in Mumbai. There were men welding pieces of metal together on one side. On the other side, there was a man hammering a huge tank - the kinds that are mounted on trucks carrying milk, edible oil, and petroleum products. Each time the hammer struck the tank, it made a huge gong, almost to the tune of 105 dB and shook the insides of my head. Ahead of these 'work shops' was a huge wall with "prohibited area" written on it. What could possibly make this area so prohibited, I thought to myself. As I approached the end of the road, it bifurcated. In front of me was a group of buildings that looked like a residential complex. The name read "Giri Nagar” I saw a group of teenage boys wearing dark red shorts and cream shirts. I enquired again, "Which way to the mud flats?" in Marathi. One of the boys replied, "Phlemingo bhagaycha aahe ka tumhala? Ikdoon saral ja." and pointed to the right of the bifurcation. I thanked the boys and proceeded in the direction. Upon walking further, I saw an old dilapidated structure. There was a group of small kids playing cricket. An old woman sat on the steps and watched them play. Just a little ahead, there lay a signboard - "Sewri Mudflats" with an arrow pointing to my destined direction.

As I walked further, I saw two men and a woman - all wearing caps coming towards me. One of the men had a binocular in his hand and a binocular case that read Olympus. The other man had a smaller carrying case, which I presume held a miniDV handycam. By now, I could see the water and at distance of about a kilometer, I saw a faint orange-white patch that extended in all directions. These were our visitors. I felt the excitement of seeing so many big birds at once. I hastened my pace and almost ignored the cricket ball that flew past my ear. At the end of the road was the Sewree jetty. It had two massive metal boats tethered to the shore. It was a low tide and the boats lay still on the soil, devoid of any movement. Upon closer examination, I figured out that these boats had huge cranes for transporting cargo from sea to shore. A group of young women, probably on a picnic, sat by the edge of jetty, munching on chips. A lone lady stood by their side with a digital camera that had 12x imprinted on its left side. Meanwhile, I took my camera out and started clicking photos. I could see a group of juvenile flamingos close to the shore, but there were not even half as pretty as the full grown pink ones. I clicked a couple of photos with much reluctance because even the 300mm zoom didn't give me a good enough close up.

Soon enough, more people started pouring in. The edge of the jetty, which had just a few people watching and enjoying the magnificent birds, now had at least fifty people, including a group of school kids. I also saw a gentleman with binoculars. He looked like he was in his early forties and wore a dark green t-shirt, with "HSBC" and "Bird Race '06" written on it. One look at that and I knew he was a BNHS member. His binocular was the center of attention with all the school kids wanting a peek at the Flamingos that were about half a kilometer away. I struck a conversation with him and he introduced himself as Mr. Bhatt. At first, he seemed interested in my camera and asked for a view. He then gave me his binocular and told me to have a look at the birds. They were, indeed, beautiful. Hundreds of them walking in the low tide of the mudflats. All of a sudden, a group of about fifteen flamingos started, what I call the bird race, running and intermittently flying towards another group. The sight was spectacular to the say the least, and straight out of National Geographic. It was then that I realized - I should have come here with my Sony Handycam. The 20x optical zoom would have done a lot of good to my bird watching stint.

The edge of the jetty was now bustling with picnickers, bird lovers, kids, and local fisher men. Little boys threw pebbles into the mudflats, driving away the remaining of the juvenile flamingos, egrets, and gulls. The sun was setting, the light was fading. I reminded myself of the promise - I will not click another sunset. After a brief discussion with Mr.Bhatt on going 'digital' and the advantages of having a field guide on bird watching trips, I decided to call it a day. I thanked Mr.Bhatt for his inputs and also got invited to join the BNHS. Took the train back to Vashi to join Anand in his birthday celebrations.

Meanwhile, I wait for the photos. The roll is still to be developed. May be tomorrow, when I get my salary! I hope the photos of the birds shot at mini-seashore and Sagar Vihar in Vashi, along with the ones clicked at Sewree turn out to be good.

Re: Me Single. You got a problem?

2006-01-09T16:30:00.000-08:00

Written in response to the Mid-day article. Read it here.

You've got your timing all wrong, babe. 12.30 pm? 1:30 pm? 2.45 am? Who made you a journo?

Although well-written, your news item has zero news value. You've tried to cash in on the publicity received by the South African model rape case to dish out your version of a sting operation.

What's more, you have very comfortably labeled every guy who hits on you a LOSER. Do you think every guy who looks at you wants to spike your drink and rape you?

Get real, write something with news value. I also find your writing to be utterly feminist and derogatory towards men.

For all you know, your boy friend/husband/brother must be hitting on good-looking women too. Is he a loser? Get a life!

People

2006-01-05T17:30:00.000-08:00

They say a photo speaks a thousand words. Sometimes, its just so true. This little girl lives in my building and loves playing. So much so, that she begins to cry when its time to go home. Clicked this on New Year’s Eve. Soon after, this little girl was in tears. For, it was time to go home, get ready and welcome 2006. Happy New Year, Huda!

Happy Holidays!

2005-12-28T23:20:00.000-08:00

My Arsenal of Photography

2005-12-20T22:29:00.000-08:00

Now that I've completely given into photography, I decided to look back in time. I began collating all cameras in my immediate family and ended up with a mini museum. Here's the list:

Rolleiflex 2.8F
Year of Manufacture: 1960s
Film Type: 120mm, Medium Format, 12 exposures
Focussing: Manual, TLR
Frame Advance: Manual Winding
Exposure Control: Aperture size, Shutter speed, optional external flash.
Comment: Though I am yet to see the Rolleiflex 2.8F in flesh-and-blood, my dad tells me it is somewhere safe in the house.

Agfa Click III
Year of Manufacture: 1978
Film Type: 120mm, Medium Format, 12 exposures
Focussing: Fixed Focus
Frame Advance: Manual Winding
Exposure Control: Three modes (Daylight, Cloudy, Indoors/Night)
Comment: My parents' wedding gift. Working as good as new!

Minolta Freedom AF 35
Year of Manufacture: 1989
Film Type: 35mm, 36 exposures
Focussing: Autofocus
Frame Advance: Automatic
Exposure Control: Auto-flash with red-eye reduction
Comment: Working fine despite taking several crashes and abuse.

Canon Prima DX Junior
Year of Manufacture: 1995
Film Type: 35mm, 36 exposures
Focussing: Fixed Focus (32mm,1:5.6)
Frame Advance: Automatic
Exposure Control: Auto-flash with red-eye reduction, Manual override
Comment: My first camera. Not used much, just a couple of rolls. The Minolta never gave it a chance!

D-Link DSC-350F
Year of Manufacture: 2002
Film Type: CMOS Sensor, 0.3 mega pixels, 8MB internal memory, non-expandable
Focussing: Auto Focus
Frame Advance: N/A
Exposure Control: Auto-flash with red-eye reduction, manual override, sunny, cloudy, indoor, and macro modes.
Comment: Software malfunctioning after a crash. D-Link has stopped manufacturing this model.

Sony Handycam CCD-TRV-460E
Year of Manufacture: 2004
Film Type: CCD Sensor, 8mm Digital8 tape, MemoryStick Pro/Duo
Focussing: Autofocus with 20x optical zoom, with manual override
Frame Advance: N/A
Exposure Control: Auto with full manual override.
Comment: Working great. Helped me get some good footage of SpeedRun 2005.

Nikon F75
Year of Manufacture: 2005
Film Type: 35mm, 36 frames
Focussing: Autofocus with manual override
Lense(s): Tamron AF 28-105 1: f/4-5.6 & Tamron AF 70-300 1:f/4-5.6 LD Macro (1:2)
Frame Advance: Automatic
Exposure Control: Auto-Multi Program, Aperture Priority, Shutter Priority, Manual, Landscape, Portrait, Night Portrait, Sports, Multiple Exposure, Exposure Compensation, Exposure Bracketing, Multiple-Frame, Auto-flash, Front-sync flash, Rear-sync flash, and Red-eye reduction.
Comment: My baby!

The Moon

2005-12-11T01:30:00.000-08:00

Got a super zoom picture of the moon. Here it is.

To get this picture, I used a Sigma telephoto AF Zoom 1000mm lens, which I brought today - making it the newest piece in my photography arsenal. Ok, I'm kidding. Although the result would lead many to believe that I have a 1000mm telephoto zoom, this photo was, indeed, clicked using my Sony Handycam, which features a 20x optical and 990x digital zoom. Cool, ain't it?

Yellow, Brown, and a lot of Green

2005-12-05T11:14:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the misleading title. I can't think of a better title for my new set of photographs. They were clicked so randomly that they fail to fall under a theme. What started as a trip to Pune ended with me getting extremely trigger-happy in Vashi. All in less than an week.

Several shots in this roll were experimental in nature, which included playing with depth-of-field, under exposing, and over exposing shots. I expected at least a couple of discards. Surprisingly, all of them came out well. I guess the electronic analog exposure meter of the Nikon F75 ain't that correct, after all. Or may be it is the Kodak Gold 200.

Here are the pics, enjoy!

Ice Candy Shop (Gola wala)

Gulmohar Leaves

To view othe pictures, click here.

A Stab At Organizing The Human Race

2005-12-02T16:30:00.000-08:00

A few days back, an interesting thought crossed my mind. I wondered who my great-great-grand father was, where he lived, what he did for a living, and who consisted of his family. Essentially, I was trying to dig up my family tree. Then, I realized, as with most families, the historic record of my family tree only extends to a couple of generations.

In retrospective, I began wondering how I could provide these answers to my future generations - when I will be a great-great-grand father and dead. I realized that the answers to my question lies in our genetic build up - the unique DNA finger print we are born with.

I imagined a world where DNA finger printing would be as compulsory as a blood test. When a child is born, he/she would be finger printed and the "finger print" would go into a central, world repository. Linking the finger print data with other data, such as the name, date of birth, sex, address, would help identify every person - living or dead. Not only would this method help identify the owner of the DNA finger print, but also his/her parents and even grand parents!

Crime scenes would no longer have to rely on standard evidence. An analysis of blood, semen, or even a hair strand could convict the culprit by just matching it with the finger prints database. Over a period of time, genetic patterns or trends would be established to identify a DNA to its gene pool. This would allow us to identify a person's roots quiet effortlessly.

To further complement my idea, I googled and found out that something like this had already crossed the minds of some great bio-scientists. These scientists carried out a project they call The Human Genome Project and completed it in 2003. Although the project was aimed at mapping the entire human genome consisting of approximately 20,000-25,000 different genes, analysis of this data continues till date. For more info on the project, click here.

Sounds far fetched, but this technology could well be used to make the world a safer place. It could be used for commercial interests, proving relations, convicting the accused, and acquitting the innocent. After all, it’s not such a bad idea to have a database of all human beings! But nature always has its way. Being so complex, nature will always be a couple of hundred yards ahead of our so-called scientific advances!

Some more photos...

2005-11-24T01:10:00.000-08:00

The second roll is developed and printed. Much to my contentment, the photos have come out better. All my experimentation with night photography has gone horribly right! Well, almost :)

Have a look and tell me what you feel. Here they are:

"Oriental Buildings", Opposite Flora Fountain, Mumbai

Sunset at Sagar Vihar, Vashi, Navi Mumbai

To view other pictures, click here.

Photography & I - Part II

2005-11-21T14:55:00.000-08:00

The results are out. The first roll is developed and printed. I see that I still have a long way to go before I can call myself a photographer. In this roll, I see that while I got familiar with the equipment controls and exposure modes, my composition went for a toss. The photos could have been better and more professional looking. Here they are:

First frame using my new camera - Lord Ganesha

Sunrise at Nerul lake, Navi Mumbai

To view other pictures, click here.

Meanwhile, on Saturday, I went to town. Exposed another roll clicking the old-Mumbai gothic structures and the sunset at Marine drive. Also tried quiet a bit of night photography with longer exposure times, slow sync flash, and a lots of camera shake!

Photography & I

2005-11-15T14:00:00.000-08:00

After buying my first digital camera in June 2003, I went clicking photos to learn the art of photography. Then, last year Pune saw me get a few exceptional snaps with my very modest 0.3 megapixel Nokia 6230. With every bunch of photos, I began realizing the aesthetics of good photography and started gathering a few tips. To fuel the fire further, Anupam introduced me to his Canon EOS 66. I realized that things I always dreamed of doing were possible using a magnificient instrument called the SLR camera. Made up my mind to buy myself a 35mm, film-SLR as soon as my finances allowed me to.

After that thought, a year passed with me spending more time and money on my new car. And finally on Saturday, I managed to buy myself a Nikon F75 with a Tamron 28-105mm lens, Marumi circular polarizer filter, and a UV filter, besides the multitude of film rolls and batteries. Got some good snaps in the last two days. Won't call them amazing or exceptional because I'm yet to see them printed and this is my first experience (and roll) with an SLR. Besides, I tried shooting most of them using the fully manual mode with manual focus. Only the snaps will tell how much I've gathered about manual focussing, shutter speed, and aperture size in the various lighting conditions.
Meanwhile, the Nikon F75 opens up yet another channel of creative expression for me. I find myself analyzing photographs in news papers and magazines to soak up the various elements of good photography. How good (or bad) I turn out to be, only time shall tell. Watch this space for the results.

Addendum: Special thanks to Extempore and Anil for helping me choose the right camera, answering my amateur questions, and being so patient. Thanks, guys!

My Tryst With America

2005-11-08T11:30:00.000-08:00

A particular incident reminded me of my rendezvous I had with a very old aunt back in 2002. Residing in the not-so-rural town of Pollachi in Tamil Nadu, this aunt has a son in the US, who has been there ever since memory serves me.

It was summer of 2002, and I had made a trip to South India with dad. We traveled from town-to-town, visiting relatives old and new. At our stop over in Pollachi, my old aunt was more than happy to show me pictures of her visit to the US. Very calmly and proudly, with an ever-endowing smile on her face, she explained to me how big and clean the roads in the US were, how one could shop for everything under one roof in a shopping mall, and the variety of choices one had in almost everything. The big bang came when my aunt pulled out sequential photographs of her standing with her son outside an ATM, entering it, inserting the credit card, punching in the PIN, and withdrawing cash. With great pride, she explained to me that in the US, one need not stand in long queues at the bank to withdraw money. I was only polite in showing an enthusiasm she expected to see, which went a little overboard. Thereafter, everything we spoke had a comparison to 'how the same thing would be in the US.'

Recently, another not-so-old aunt of mine, with a son in the US, came down from Kerala. She inquired where I work and what I do and interrogated me proudly "When are you going to Ammeyrikya?" Again, I could see the great divide and the sense of pride my aunt shared to see her son doing well in life and settled in the US.

Now, this brings me to the questions:

Does an Indian boy have to go to the US, either to study, work, or settle down to be labeled SUCCESSFUL?
Do relatives from non-metros think America is heaven? (I actually remember a mallu song which goes "Swargatilo, nammal swargatilo!" with Mohan Lal and another actor dancing on US roads)
Do they understand that living in Metros makes them better armed to imbibe the so-called Western Culture and ignore it, if needed?
Do they understand that life in Indian metros is comparable, if not better, to life in the US?

Phew! There goes my Visa...

PoetryFest - I

2005-10-26T11:00:00.000-07:00

After writing the poem, I have been reading a lot of my favorite poetry. These timeless masterpieces are vivid in my head, right from school - when I first read them. When I read them now, I savour each verse, each line, and get transported back in time. One of my all time favorites is the poem on apples by an unknown poet. Here it is, as found on the Web.

You speak very fine, and you look very grave,
But apples we want, and apples we’ll have;
If you will go with us, you shall have a share,
If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear.”

They spoke, and Tom ponder’d—“I see they will go;
Poor man! what a pity to injure him so!
Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could,
But staying behind will do him no good.

“If the matter depended alone upon me,
His apples might hang till they dropp’d from the tree;
But, since they will take them, I think I’ll go too,
He will lose none by me, though I get a few.”

His scruples thus silenced, Tom felt more at ease,
And went with his comrades the apples to seize;
He blamed and protested, but join’d in the plan:
He shared in the plunder, but pitied the man.

Oh, what a big mistake!

2005-10-25T15:40:00.000-07:00

I lay beached,
like a whale on a shore.
Something's amiss,
something's sore.
Is it my heart,
down there on the floor?

Oh, what a big mistake!

May be I didn't give us,
what it takes.
May be I got more
than my rightful stake.
May be it's you for granted,
what I take.

Oh, what a big mistake!

May be your love, I never valued,
and your love, I never returned.
Hurt, pain, and tears,
is all for you, I destined.
Without you in my life,
I feel sojourned.

Oh, what a big mistake!

Like a fish running out of water
on a drying creek.
Didn't know my falter,
till it was bleak.
Gasping for you, I banter,
doomed to a poignant, losing streak.

Oh, what a big mistake!

Life in the Bigger Scheme of Things - A Perspective

2005-09-19T12:55:00.000-07:00

Ever wondered why are we alive? Ever wondered why and how all 'organisms' have a predefined cycle from birth to death? You might argue that birth is definitive but not death. The reason for this being, in a lifetime, several million external factors affect the duration and quality of life.

So, why are we alive? All living organisms are programmed to live and nurture their own life. With the thinking animal - man - life takes a more definitive approach to be protected and loved. The core of existence becomes loving yourself and looking up to a higher figure who has the power to control your life. With this mindset, we tend to focus only on these two aspects and miss the bigger picture.

So, what is this big picture? No living man knows for sure. In my opinion, while we live, we are like the cogs of a huge machine - ticking and completing revolutions. We are here for a definitive purpose, which is beyond our understanding. To draw an analogy, the specialized cells in your liver, too, are living and performing their programmed tasks. They do not know that they 'work' for you. They lack the big picture - missing the intent of performing their programmed task. Similarly, we humans might be a diminutive aspect of a bigger unit - performing our preprogrammed task - living.

What we call a year might be a microsecond in the bigger picture. What we call a lifetime might be a second - just like the microorganisms that reproduce at lightning speeds and have a life span of three days. In the bigger picture, we might be just as good as microorganisms - living for a second and calling it a lifetime. Distances we calculate in thousands of kilometers might be worth a millimeter. Light years may equal up to a small stroll. Our own dear planet Earth might be a speck of dust floating in space. Possibilities are endless and are limited to our imagination. Only pushing the boundaries of our imagination will let us know of the true intent of being alive. Till then, it is us with our limited imagination to figure out life.

Thought for the day

2005-09-19T12:20:00.000-07:00

"When the ride of life gets bumpy, buckle up, down shift, and steer clear of pot holes"

The Real Test of Life

2005-07-18T00:19:00.000-07:00

Thinking Differences

2005-07-12T11:30:00.000-07:00

I was listening to I will survive by Gloria Gaynor today. The song speaks of a woman who has been betrayed by her lover and the grief she goes through, as a result. It speaks about the emotions in the woman's head when her lover is back. It proclaims with pride that the woman is now strong and can survive without him. Alongside the lyrics at face value, the song describes how vulnerable woman can get when in love. It perfectly demonstrates how women shower themselves with self-pity and tears to company when in a troubled relationship.

Vaginal ramblings, I say!

Now, that reminds me of a friend who said she wouldn't get into a relationship with any guy because she was afraid she would hurt herself. The emotional trauma and pain would be uncalled for and unbearable, she said. While on this topic, I think of a hypothetical single guy who is looking for love. He would jump into the well of love with closed eyes once he has chosen his partner.

Men think differently. Men do not worry about getting into something, fearing they may hurt themselves. It is the experimenting spirit and the overall experience that counts for them. Men are not worried about how troubled with themselves they may be in the future. Therefore, when emotionally troubled, men do not pity themselves. They simply accept the trying situation and think of a possible solution. They do not breakdown in front of themselves. May be, this is what the world refers to as male ego.

Relating that to feminine thinking, women are total opposites. They care about themselves almost to the point of being selfish. Women would prefer security and a promising tomorrow, while everything men would want is their lovers' company to face the world. Men in love would go to any extent in a relationship, not worrying about the future. Men live for the day. They mould their future without foresaking today, without fearing to experiment.

The differences in male and female psychology is a great rift, which neither can fully understand. Hence the saying, only God can understand women! In this write up, I've tried to get a little closer. Afterall, the world is a big balance. While men score in some places, they lose out in others. There is balance between everything in nature, including how we think. Without differences, there would be no balance. Without balance, the scales would tip to one side causing widescale repulsion. If differences can cause disharmony, repulsion would cause havoc. Mayhem. With things in nature being out of balance, doomsday won't be far. But thankfully, opposites attract, trying to keep the balance from tipping to any one side and the world ticking.

Disclaimer: By no means am I thinking or meaning anything even remotely derogatory towards women. I am not even generalizing that all men or all women fit into the abovesaid mould. All I am doing is analyzing and comparing how differently men and women think. This write up is just a result of that.

Say Hello to the New Nokia 6630

2005-07-07T16:56:00.000-07:00

Got myself a Nokia 6630 3G smartphone on Monday. Featuring a 1.3MP camera, this phone look nothing less than exotic. With a curvaceous bottom and a neat top, this phone sure looks and feels good in my palm. Things I love about this phone:

Faster than any other Nokia phone running on Symbian OS thanks to the 220 MHz ARM processor. For people still using Pentium 1s, my phone is faster than your computer!
3G UTMS/W-CDMA compatiblility allows me to browse the Internet at broadband speeds. Tried this on BPL GPRS, hooked up the phone to my PC using the supplied USB cable and viola!
Mind-blowing camera with superb image quality. For a phone, the camera is outstanding.
Hot-swap of memory card means no more turning off, popping the rear cover, and removing the battery to remove the memory card.
A neat, snazzy look with an air of sophistication.

The lost 6230 has been replaced. I'm finally over my lost phone. Right now, busy experimenting and exploring this new piece of whacky gadgetry. Ciao!

Novel Ideas

2005-06-27T14:05:00.000-07:00

Reading the Da Vinci Code has certainly brought about certain changes in the way I think and express myself. Besides the controversial plot that literally shakes the foundations of Christianity, the style of writing and spell-binding revelation of the story has me clutching the book for hours together. Yesterday afternoon, was well-spent with me in a cozy corner in my room, reading the Da Vinci Code. I found myself cribbing that the left half of the book felt heavier than the right one. Obviously, I was enjoying every second of it and actually wanted the book to last longer!

One of the positive effects of reading the book is the plethora of words and ideas that have started flowing to my fingers. Right below is a draft of what I call the first chapter of my untitled novel. Read on, and be sure to tell me what you think of this!

Chapter 1

Flipping feverishly through the pages of Time magazine, Lindsay Atkinson sat counting each minute of the never ending hour at Heathrow Airport. She was to board flight BA139 to Mumbai. Each second seemed like a minute and each minute seemed like an hour. The articles in the magazine flew past Lindsay’s mind like the cold wind blowing against a closed window – unable to set in and relenting itself totally useless to her mind.

Meeting my love is just a few hours away, Lindsay said to herself as she peered back into the magazine, trying to make sense of the text she was reading. Just as she set her gaze on something interesting, a soft female voice boomed on the PA system.

Passengers boarding flight BA one-three-nine to Mumbai, please proceed to Terminal Four.

Lindsay heaved a sigh of relief, Thank God for that, I couldn’t have waited any longer. She joined the snaking queue of people, who seemed equally eager to get on to the aircraft. Lindsay wondered if everyone was as eager as her to get in and thought to herself, the waiting lounge is not such a great place, after all. How long could one sit staring at the magazines? How much longer can people wait before they set sail for their destinations? All in all, Lindsay was far more relaxed now and the excitement of meeting her love in Mumbai showed up clearly in her twinkling eyes.

The air hostesses’ aboard the aircraft stood arms crossed, beaming a plastic smile, welcoming passengers aboard, checking their boarding passes, and directing them to their seats. Lindsay held up her boarding pass to a blonde airhostess who pointed at a seat in the eleventh row, right next to the window. With a smile of acknowledgement, Lindsay headed for her seat, which was just right above the aircraft wing. As she settled down in what was going to be her home for the next eleven hours, she set her eyes outside the window and relaxed, yet again. Heights made Lindsay nauseous, throwing her into an extremely uncomfortable frenzy, a rare medical condition where nothing but a shot of sedative would calm her down. The presence of the aircraft wing blocking her vision of the abysmal depth made her feel comfortable and thankful to God. Placing her handbag in the closet above, Lindsay settled onto her seat and heaved a deep sigh. She closed her eyes and began thinking. Mumbai is just eleven hours away. The moment I have been waiting for is coming soon. How lucky I am to have found true love in this lifetime. Love is the only way to attain salvation. Thank you Lord for giving me this opportunity to serve you.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking…the voice boomed. The sudden crackle in the air startled Lindsay, instantly drowning her entwining thoughts into a deep abyss of amnesia. Lindsay sat on her seat with a horrified look on her face, her mind still reeling from the sudden interruption that got her heart pounding and cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. The captain’s words in the background made little sense to Lindsay. A sudden wave of silence slapped her across her face as the captain’s voice faded out reducing itself to only a noise of people chattering. Realization dawned upon Lindsay. She had been lost again in between the real world and what seemed like a parallel world in her head. With a sudden jerk, the aircraft started pulling forward, taxiing towards runway four. Soon enough, Lindsay felt a slight tap on her shoulder. As she turned to look, she heard a soft voice saying, Please fasten your seatbelt, madam. In the moment of bewilderment, Lindsay complied with what felt like a command, rather hurriedly.

About Reading and Me

2005-06-22T19:10:00.000-07:00

I'm not a big novel freak. I don't go frisking up roadside book stalls or even to Crossroads. In fact, reading a book is as alien to me as watching a regional movie. Most of my reading happens online. This includes reviews of products, articles on various subjects, technical whitepapers, news, astrology, blogs, and forums. I have never bothered to specifically read to read. That's probably because I don't make enough time for a book to get into the clasp of my fingers. Going back several years, I remember, all my school friends would rant and rave about having read a particular book. I was the more practical type and never read books. You may think I'm different or even stupid, it's only a matter of opinion. Reading a book was an excruciatingly boring task for me.

I have friends who spend ~3 to 4k per month on books alone. I wonder how and when do they get the time to read these books. Is buying books a fashion statement? Or is it just a way to build up your own library with the hope that you will read those books, someday?

However, today is different. I have actually felt compelled to hold on to a book. Find it so difficult to put it down. Chapter after chapter goes zooming by, taking me deeper into the plot. Along with the chapters go the hours. I'm talking about The Da Vinci Code that I got for my birthday. This novel is certainly one of the best and has, indeed, made a book hater like me stick to the pages. Reading a book is not that bad, afterall. Or may be it's just Dan Brown. Funny how, sometimes, you tend to contradict yourself.

Blue Sunday, The

2005-06-22T15:40:00.000-07:00

On the road, I see a Skoda with chrome-finish alloy wheels. Instinctively, I reach out for my Nokia 6230, placed on the passenger seat of my car. But no. It ain't there. The reminiscences of the disappointment revisit me and I live through the pain, yet again. At home, my brother's N-Gage hums Sweet Home Alabama. Aah, mp3 ringtones! I had it too. At play, a sudden thought strikes my mind and I need to jot it down. I reach for my pocket and pull out my Nokia 1100 instead.

There are very few materialistic things that I get attached to. One of them is the phone I use. It becomes a part of my life and doing without it is unimaginable. As I step out of my home, office, a restaurant, or my car, my hands instinctively check my right jeans pocket to feel that candy formfactor safely tucked in. Without it, I feel incomplete. With a phone like the Nokia 6230, using all of the in-built features requires intense amounts of love and dedication. From having a picture phone book, mp3 ringtones, raunchy video clips, mms messages, sms messages that you never feel like deleting, photographs that remind you of the good times you've had, to logging onto MSN Messenger through GPRS and browsing the Internet - I did so much with the phone. Life was so organized with it around. It was more like a personal assistant who helped organize my life in my moments of fun, pleasure, and anxiety.

After having a faithful association for almost a year, Sunday, the 19th of June saw me separated from my phone. Yes, my Nokia 6230 is no more.

Sunday afternoon, a prescheduled time for cleaning the car. My phone, wallet, and keys are placed on the passenger seat. That's the last time I see my Nokia 6230. Me - using the vaccuum cleaner, sucking out the tiny particles of dust from the carpet. Nabil comes over and keeps me company while I clean the car. Later, Nabil suggests having tea. I take my wallet, keys and lock the car. Ride to the chai wallah on Nabil's scooterette. We talk about the profound meaning of life and how it has changed for the good - for both of us. We get up to leave and me - the trying-to-be-organized soul that I am, check my short's pockets for all belongings. The phone is missing. I tell myself, The phone must be in the car. Yet, to be sure, I ask Nabil to call my number. After a couple of seconds, reluctantly, Nabil tells me the phone is unreachable. We rush back to my car park, while checking the road to spot a silver Nokia 6230. Reach the car and horror strikes. The phone ain't there in the car. I go home to check if I've left it indoors. No luck, again. After a few frantic moments, I quickly compose my self. The phone is misplaced and possibly stolen. I call up BPL Mobile and ask them to deactivate my SIM card, for it has both STD and ISD. Later, me and Nabil head to the Police Station to file an FIR.

I spend my evening in the usual way - with R and friends. The thought of my lost phone stays in my mind in the background. Get back home and reality dawns upon me. My NK6230 cannot be lost. It's gotta be somewhere close. I relive the entire sequence of events in my head and try to figure out what caused the misplacement. Did it fall off my pocket while riding on the bike? Did the construction workers steal it from the car when I was away? Did it get sucked into the vaccuum cleaner? Where did it go? I find it extremely hard to believe that my phone is indeed lost.

After using 17 phones for barely 3 months each, the Nokia 6230 was the 18th and truly an exception. I had used it for almost a year. The versatility of the phone prompted me to love it so. No phone compared to it in terms of features, operating speed, and of course the presence of proprietary Nokia OS as compared to the Symbian suckers. Just a week back, I had enquired with my mobile dealer for a suitable upgrade, which again, is the newer Nokia 6230i. Buying it was on the cards, and my phone would have fetched me about 9k. People say, when things have to go, they will. In my case, I didn't let it go. And so, it decided to go on its own.

Even today, three days after the tragic event, if I may call it, I feel the presence of my phone. Somewhere close, somewhere far. Out of the boundaries of my sight and touch. I find it so difficult to believe it is actually lost. I check every corner and every crevice in my car, hoping to have my phone back. What could feel better than getting back something you love when you have lost it?

I feel like singing Oh, where, oh, where can my baby be? The lord took her away from me...

Now, for Mr. Phone Thief, while you are alive, you will get the worst news of your life time using a cell phone - mine or another stolen one. You will never get an errection ever and your wife/girl friend will desert you for your best friend. After you die, you shall rot in hell with the old cell phones. Their antennae will aim straight for your arse hole. The shrillest of the ringtones will play 24/7. And guess what? Phone batteries don't go empty in hell!

Oh Lord, please help me get over this!

PS: For people wondering if my old number is still active, yes, it is. I have a new SIM card with the same old goodie number.

Thoughts @ 6000 rpm

2005-06-15T17:30:00.000-07:00

As far as my motoring frenzy goes, this week has been delightfully eventful.

Sunday saw me getting a ride of a life time - in a 2005 Mercedes C220. Not only was it an exhilarating ride with the engine spewing out those insane amounts of torque, but also the owner of the car - another motor enthusiast patiently explaining the myriad gizmos present in the car. Just for the records, we did a 100 in the oh-so-busy streets of sector 17, Vashi. All under 7 seconds. Now that's how you drive a 35-lakh car!
Being treated to all that torque gets your adrenaline pumping. On my way back from NRI Complex, an aquaintance in a Diesel Indica V2 decided to provoke me to race. Did a 140 in my Zen and cruised to victory.
Monday was anything but mundane with an assortment of Pulsars and CBZs racing with me on the Eastern Express Highway. Such races are often informal and long forgotten. Though, I just discovered a new tap of torque on my bike - the second gear - to propel me from 5 to 45 in three flat seconds.
Tuesday was another race day on the Eastern Express Highway. A Skoda Octavia Rider was sporting enough to have a friendly race. Although it was highly unfair for the car owner, it was fun. Bikes are always easier to navigate in traffic or no traffic.
Today, I got to test drive the Swift. I like that car but don't think my Zen is bad at all.

Like Chad Lindberg would say, "Dear heavenly spirit. Thank you for providing us with a direct port nitrous injection, four core intercoolers and ball-bearing turbos and titanium valve springs. Amen"

Swift, Driving the

2005-06-15T12:15:00.000-07:00

My two-week-long desire to test drive the new Maruti Suzuki Swift took shape today. Opportunity presented itself when init() happened way before schedule, at 7.20 AM. Zoomed to Automotive, Nerul at 8.30 AM, filled up the test-drive form and lo, I'm behind the wheel of an Orange Swift VXi.

The car has an immensely powerful stance. Though the modern look might appeal a one too many, it takes time getting used to. Especially when looking at the weird looking machine at close proximity. The A, B, and C pillars along with the roof, look small compared to the rest and seem to be forcibly stuck on a large body, a la vintage cars. The 165/80 R14 stock tires give this machine a mean, off-street look. One knock at the body and you know it is a Maruti. The build quality is average and leaves much to be desired. On the other hand, the Octavia seems rugged as a tank! I know I'm comparing Oranges and Apples, but that still strikes a chord, somewhere!

The sales rep drives the car out of the showroom with me in the passenger seat. He gets to an open section of the road and steps out. I swing the door open, and step in. Quiet easy, thanks to the height of the car. Is the engine ON? It's hard to tell! The Swift is one of the most refined machines from the Maruti stable. I slot the gear knob into first and take off. I rev the engine according to my habits in the Zen and I see the speedo going beyond 20. The revs are at still at a comfortable 2000 rpm. Shift into second and you feel a surge. By the time the tachometer shows 2000 rpm, you are well beyond 45 kmph. The shifts are short and feel very sporty. Third takes you to 65, and the fourth provides a mighty cruising experience at 90. Slot it into fifth and you are well above 110! Very well tuned gear ratios. Perfect for city driving and red-light drags, as well!

I bring the car to a halt and ask the sales rep if the brakes are ABS-equipped. He replies in the negative and I am surprised at the braking performance. Thanks to the 14-inch (I think) servo boosters, this babe stops as fast as she accelerates. Now, I decided to try out the gear ratios in economy mode. Shift into the second at 10, third at 20, fourth at 30, and fifth at 40. No knocking or excessive loss in performance. This car can be an elegant woman dressed in a kanjipooram saree or a voluptous bikini-clad babe. As and when required, and as you please! I enquire about expected fuel efficiency and he says 12-15 kmpl in city driving conditions. Hard to believe, this being a 1.3 litre, 87 bhp, one-tonner! My Zen does 17 kmpl in city driving conditions when driving in MiledgeDrive® mode.

Continue to Palm Beach road and cruise at 120 kmph. Drive back to the showroom and the joy ride comes to an end. I step back into my Old Faithful (not that old, actually!) and turn the key. Surprisingly, my car ain't too far behind in the refinement department. With Suzuki, refinement is the key word. Be it a bike or a car. I drive out on the road and find my car gasping for breath as she nears 2000 revs. It ain't my car, it's my mind. That's what 1.3 litres, and 87 BHP can do to you. I find the swift (err, shift!) to my old car rather disappointing. To express this in two-wheeler terms, this feels like coming back to your Splendor after riding a Fiero. But thankfully, I own a Fiero and not a Splendor!

Over all, a nice morning and an even nicer car. Perfect for a family of four, where the man of the house does a little more than just driving to work. Lots of space in the cabin. A performance-driven engine that is not going to proliferate your fuel costs too much, coupled with the reliability of a Suzuki. All this, from the people who think you are king. That's the new Swift for you.

Jammed fingers or a mental block?

2005-06-10T06:39:00.000-07:00

Today, I have this intense compulsion to write something. A need to express myself in an alternate way. Channel my constructive energy. Express my creativity. Feel happy. Get that satisfaction of creating something (the write up, in this case) from scratch. And feel happy.

Have been going through my older posts, trying to gather inspiration to write something. Tried writing something, and what it turned out to be has been aptly been christened "Writing Fiasco."
***
It was the first day of class. The long summer had chilled my mental bones, much to my surprise to get into a serious ‘study’ mood. As I walked into class looking out for chicks and potential friends, my roving eyes screech-halted on a petite, slim girl wearing a white salwar. She had silky, shiny, straight hair. Without a plot in mind, I can’t do much justice to this story. Ok, I have the description of the girl and me walking into the classroom. Where do I go from here on? Do I write about how we spoke for the first time? Or do I write how hard I was trying to read her mind to find out if I have caught her fancy, as well? College-classroom is a very boring, over-used setting used in many stories. Not worth my keystrokes. Ok, I have been wanting to write a spine-tickling, romantic comedy for sometime now. One that has its hilarious moments, but at the same time makes readers think of their partners and gives them an overall mushy feeling that gets them excited. Do you get what I mean? I want something light, but something that has you thinking about mush and gives you an overall good feeling. Its 20:20, and I think it’s time to leave. There goes my writing…hopefully, the next time I try something like this, I will have something more solid to write about!
***

I'm at right angles with my need-to-write and writing ability. Does not writing take away something you have developed over the years? If so, may be it is my profession that is to be blamed. When I worked as a writer, words and ideas just flowed through my fingers and writing something purely for my satisfaction was not a big deal. For the last ten months or so, I have not been writing much in my profession, leading to a drop in the number of posts on my blog. Now, after ten months, even expressing my inability to write in this post seems like trying to move a boulder. It's true, lately, I have been busier than usual. But does that account for my will-not-write-anything spree? Or is it that what D says is true? Is this really the June effect? Close to my birthday, the creative part of my brain goes into sleep mode, only performing daily chores. Even writing that I am unable to write like before is an inspiration from D's post.

All I can think about these days is R, bikes, and cars. Feel like doing a power-wheelie on my bike at 80 kmph. Feel like toeing the accelerator pedal of my car to about 3000 rpm, slipping into first gear, letting go of the clutch pedal and flooring the accelerator pedal simultaneously. What follows would be insane amounts of torque being delivered to the front wheels, resulting in a perfect 5 meter screech start, pushing the car from 0 to 60 kmph on the first gear in about 5 seconds!

Have to get those creative juices flowing. Got to start getting those wonderful abstracts ideas again. Makes me feel better about my self. May be I will read a book tonight. Probably, another great mind will inspire the writer in me and get those ideas and words flowing to my fingers.

Theme song for a loving day

2005-04-21T13:15:00.000-07:00

While I write this, I wanna wake up with you by Boris Gardiner plays in my mind.

pour mon amour, mon chéri

When I wake up,
the first thing I wanna see,
is your sparkling eyes.
the first thing I wanna touch,
is your satin-soft skin.
the first thing I wanna smell,
is your ambrosial hair.
the first thing I wanna taste,
is your strawberry-sweet lips.

...I wanna wake up with you.

A Man's Guide to Feminine Lingo - Friends

2005-03-16T07:02:00.000-08:00

At some point or the other, all you men out there must have heard a woman say, "Let's just be friends, okay?" That one line from the woman you desire must have done to your ego what a thousand shrapnel would feel like going through a ripe wound. The disastrous effect is amplified if the concerned woman had been showing signs of interest in you, playing with your mind, kept you on your toes, and always wondering "what's next?"

So what do women exactly mean when they use the deadly 'f' word? To understand the implications of the usage of this word, let's start with what one would normally define for a friend - A person with whom you are comfortable being around, with whom you can talk to your heart's content, and be yourself. Now, making a contradiction of the sorts is the fact that in an ideal male-female relationship, being friends becomes the arch pillar for feelings to grow, trust to build, and sets stage for finally giving in to one another. All the elements that make friendship tick can be found in a romantic relationship. Essentially, friendship is the lowest form a romantic relationship.

However, when a woman wants to be just 'friends' with you, what she essentially means is that the closest you could get to her is to be a puppet in her hands and entertain her when she is bored. Women use the word 'friend' to mean something like a barricade around them. A barricade to keep you out, yet hold you close enough to be 'controlled.' What's more, if you agree to be her 'friend', you are stomping upon your already-crushed-ego and altering it in to something beyond recognition.

In reality, a man and a woman can never be 'just friends.' At most, what they share could be called an acquaintance - a kind of contact which would be highly superficial. As soon as you are sharing something more intimate, you are stepping in to the R zone. Women may tell you that they had no 'feelings' for you and did things that accidentally led you on. What they essentially mean is that they were trying you out and you haven't quiet qualified to appeal to their tastes.

What I hate most about the 'f' word is the fact that women use it as an intimacy-limiter. You can get close to them only as much as they want you to. Why should friendship have any boundaries? Why can't we men just be free spirits? If we are comfortable with a woman, why should the word 'friendship' dictate what you can do and what you can't? Why should it dictate how close you can get? Why should this fucking 'f' word axe all your chances of finding a potential companion, a soul mate?

Having said that, listen up, men. The next time a woman says she wants to be just 'friends' with you, don't waste your time on her. Save what's left of your ego and walk out in dignity. If you are convinced with what you have just read, congratulations! You are one more step closer to understanding confused bundles of concocted emotions (CBCE) called women. Cheers!

PS: Women reading this, please do not mistake me to be a male chauvinist. I look up to you and you are, indeed, what make life worth living for us men.

Clutter-putter Indica

2004-10-21T11:30:00.000-07:00

It's another fine morning, and I am so happy. Not that mornings make me happy, today is Thursday, and also the last working day for this week. My mind crunches schedule for the day and something tells me I need to check my car for 'hava-pani' before I drive it down to Mumbai.

I go down to crank up my car, which has been standing out in the bitter-cold Pune climes. Right behind my car's ass is another ass - a dirty green Indica V1, with its not-so-smiley front grille. How on earth am I gonna take my car out? Whose god-damn car is this?

I chat up a by-stander in the society to get information about the car, but alas! He's just a carpenter. I move up to the first floor and see a man coming down. He looks like the watchman. This society does not have a functional watchman, the one who is appointed only turns the water pump on and off. I ask him, "woh hari gaadi kiski hai?", he points to a door and I thank him.

I ring the bell, and a middle-aged, soft-spoken lady opens the door. I ask her if the Green Indica belongs to her. She affirms, and asks what the matter is. I brief her how the ass of a car that she owns, won't let me remove mine. Without a moment passing by, she hands over the keys and confirms "yehi hai na?", I look at the big T on the key and say "yes, thank you."

I go down and open the Green Monster, the front seat is pulled too far ahead, and too close for comfort - at least for a person of my stature. The seat is jammed, and I have to park my ass in all the place I can find. I close the door, and it shuts it a rattling thud. This car certainly is not as good as it looks from the outside. I depress the clutch and crank the car. Oh my god. Is it an earth quake? The whole chassis seems to be trembling, but no sign of life. Crank again, no luck. I depress the accelerator and crank this time. No luck again. Finally, after about 6 or 7 tries, the engine begins to putter and what a noise it makes. For a moment I am confused whether I am sitting inside a car or a TATA truck. This thing rattles so badly, I wonder if my intestines may fall out. So bad NVH levels!

I engage the car in reverse gear and find that the gear shifts are almost non-existent. The gear stick moves freely in any fuckin' direction you want. Finally, after tries and retries, I manage to engage the truck of a car into reverse. Being diesel, this car won't move without an extravagant depression of the accelerator. Also, the engine response is so sluggish! I manage to move the monster far enough to take my baby out.

Get into my car, and it seems so much better. The door doesn't shut with a bang. There is ample leg room. I crank my car and it is up within half a crank. No intestine shaking, gut wrenching vibrations here. It's a Maruti Zen after all!

Pull my car out and get back into the monster. Park it deep inside, and thank myself for hating this car. I think to myself “Tata certainly didn't know how to build passenger cars!” I go for a short drive in my baby with my favorite music playing. Not much traffic in this side of Pune! Oh, what more could I ask for on a perfect morning?

Top 10 signs you are in Pune

2004-09-29T19:50:00.000-07:00

You know you are in Pune when:

1. Your consumption of kanda pohe and chai exceeds limits set by the EPA.
2. Every restaurant is suffixed 'rice plate'.
3. The only place you see chicks is E-square or Inox.
4. You get homes on rent without any documentation or a 11-month lease agreement.
5. You see women riding two wheelers with covered hair and faces, resembling terrorists.
6. You notice that places are named according to the days of the week.
7. Cops don't catch you for jumping a red light.
8. You walk in the afternoon sun without sweating a drop.
9. The only mode of transport is your car or bike.
10. Getting from one end of the city to another doesn't take more than 45 minutes.

Shopping for a Small Car

2004-09-28T17:10:00.000-07:00

Introduction
Gone are the days when buying a small car meant choosing between a Maruti 800 and a Zen. In a market full of choices, buying a small car can be quiet a trial for the first-time buyer. Let alone first-time buyers, even people looking for a car change are left downright confused in a market full of small cars, where each manufacturer is vying for the jingling thing in your pocket. Read marketing gimmicks like MUV, NV, Xing thing, German engineering, and More Car Per Car, and the prospective small-car buyer in you sits down to the floor, helplessly.

What do I want from my car?
So what are you looking for? You need a car that is stylish, has enough space for your family of four, is fuel-efficient, has low running costs, is backed by a network of easily accessible service stations, and one that would fetch good resale value five years down the line. So how do you decide which car is worth your money? Read on...

How much can I afford?
At your first peek into the small car market, you will find cars starting as low as 2.6 lakhs to as high as 5.5 lakhs. For this reason, the first thing to do is decide how much you want to invest on your new baby. Setting your budget not only helps you think clearly, but also picks out the cars that fit in your budget. Don't let those loan companies stretch you beyond your budget.

Petrol or Diesel?
Next, you decide the type of car you need: Petrol or Diesel. Choose Diesel, and your choices are fairly limited. Also, you decision for a diesel car should be so only if you have a lot of driving to do.

Diesel?
Diesels in the small car segment can literally be counted on fingers - namely Zen D, Indica Diesel, and Palio D. Although the bestseller in Diesel is undoubtedly the Indica Diesel, customers have their own reasons for going for each one of the other cars.

Petrol?
Choose petrol, and you are back to the sizable list that includes Maruti 800, Indica Petrol, Santro, Zen, Alto, WagonR, Palio, Getz, and Corsa Sail. Adding to this are soon to be launched Ford Fusion and Honda Fit.

Entry Level Cars
If you are migrating from a two-wheeler or a Premiere Padmini to a new car, the Maruti 800 and the Alto LXi are great options. These cars are absolute value for money, have incredible fuel efficiency, perform commendably, and most of all, are very easy to drive.

Premium Hatchbacks
Throw in a few more lakhs and you have the flesh of the league in small cars - the Hyundai Santro, Maruti Zen, Maruti WagonR, Tata Indica, and Fiat Palio. Besides being more powerful than Segment A cars, these cars are aesthetically designed and are available with a host of options and subsequent pricelists. Options include power steering, power windows, body-colored bumpers, booster-assisted brakes with ABS, rear wipers, rear defoggers, leather seats, wood-finish interiors, and sporty gear knobs. These cars have plush interiors and are generally very appealing to the eye.

Big Small Cars
The top-of-the-line cars in the small car segment are the Hyundai Getz and Opel Corsa Sail. These cars, although smaller than mid-sized cars, are meatier than small cars and provide the power that motor enthusiasts crave for. Being small, these can be driven around the city with ease. Being powerful, these cars offer both breath-taking acceleration and breakneck top-speeds. These cars are most suited for the buyer who wants good power and performance in a small package. Fuel efficiency of these cars is best left not discussed.

So what’s my decision?
Summing it up, choosing a small car can be quiet a crucial task, especially if you make an uninformed decision and realize that another car is better than yours. So take your time, do the market research. Get feedback from existing owners. Read up reviews on popular motoring mags. With the correct information and your finest choice, nothing stands between you and your dream small car. Happy small car shopping!

FW: Too good

2004-09-23T15:25:00.000-07:00

Below is a mail that spells out unity in diversity found in India. Further down are the effects of forwarding such a mail to my roommates – Abhilash, Jeba, and Shashikant Akula.

~* Da Mail *~

From: Anish

Guys, checkout this forward.
too good :)
Akula, tum hyderabad mein kya kara?!?

Cheers!
Anish
===
Tamils are always proud to be Tamizhs. Pretty courteous (that is what they
think, at least!). They speak yenglish but sorry, no indi (Hindi) saar...what da??. The more common Madarasi (chennaisi..., now?) is an ardent fan of kireeket matches. Their counterparts in Bombay think they live in America but speak Hinglish like "...are you sure ki Sujata aa rahi hai ya I'll go akela!" Andthey take great pride in making stupid mistakes in Hindi Grammar.

Thamizhs, are verrry lecky to have "simble" neighbours in the "keralites"who are a komblex race of peoblle (they migrated around 2000 B.C. from themiddle east, I guess, and now even the Sheikhs feel wary of them) but theyeat a lot of chooclyte and own 99.998765% of chai shops in the world and form 99.89% of nursing community.

Not far begind the kerals is the telugu desam, who are totally againesht flaunting their wealthu to the woruldu, though they occasionally come out withu brick red shirtsu and parrot green pantsu with pleetsu (pleat).Worustu, no?! But they (think) are greatu in CICSu, Microsu and COBOLu!Generally sane peoplesu (and so you can always findu them judgingu,probhingu, queschioningu othersu ....)

The Canadians, excuse me, the Kannadigas aor (are) the coolest dobun south but if there is political unrest in Hersogovnia oare (or) an ebolavirus outbreak in Zaire, they bash up the Tamils in Karnataka. Cauveryvery bad! When it comes to Rajkumar (actor), if a fly sits on his nose,they'll burn the entire city of Bengaloroo to kill the fly! To hell withSilicon valley! I-ron, firshtu, girlu, Lasht Bussu, roadu, crickeatu, filamu are some of their favourites.

Maharashtrians are a conservative, confused, complex lot-kar. -Kar, that is because gavasakar, tendulkar, bahulkar,.. confused that is becausesitting in southern part of India they would ask the other person "are youfrom Maharashtra or from south India..?" and genuinely wonder why the other person takes some time to answer the question. They like the principles of pheejix and their favourite character in the alphabet is Zay (god knows where that came from). Although soft, peace loving people but they elect the shivsena to rule them.

And right there next to the Maharashtrians are the Gujjubhais. They liketo keep kes in the benk and their favourite past time is eating snakes (snacks) like paav bhaji, masala papad and pijja at the local snake bar. They gobble down palak sev like their life depends on it and believe in the brotherhood and sisterhood of man and woman (everybody is a bhai or aben).

If you go further eesht, the land uf Udissa - the land of irron ("r"unsilent) where sombalpuroa and Bhubaneshbara are big towns. The people are bery cordial and if you are Vikram they bill soorly ask your name starts from B or Bhe. They do not sout, sam or soot but occasnally bawsh their phace at the wasbashin. James Bond Mohanty in our colleze had a roll nomber jero, jero, sebhen.

Bengalees are bery bery similor, but or bery proud oph Subas Chondro Boashand Shoatyojit Roy (I used to know a director by name Satyajit Ray who wasalso pretty good) and eberybody is X da. I used to habe a friend by name. Dada. Bonder...neber mind. Bot I most conphess, Roshgollas are berygoooood, tho!

Bihari kids are supposed to be the smartest kids in India (if not in theuniverse!). How we wish they grow up the same way,...but... And Bihareesare bery phond of Laloo and Ranchi, isse bhadiya tumre pass koochi haikaa?! * spit spit... *

UPites and MPites are busy going to ischool and istudying metals to make lots of ishteel.

Punjabis are very sweet and aggressive and offer Rotti Shotti Khayega! towhich I once replied No. He said Tage itu, yaar! By Godu! Surjeetu, what happenedu, oi?!. Then of course, everybodys a paappe or a kaakke. Thats Punjab for you.

And Kashmir (called Cashmir by many, may be because of the amount of cashspent to keep it in India)?!?I know Roja (or Roza?)was shot (I mean filmed) somewhere nearby... But at the end of the day, wherever you are in the world, whether it is inSunnyvale, CA; Birmingham, UK; UmmAl Quwain, UAE; or Serangoon Road, Singapore, ask them who they are and you'll get just one answer --- "INDIANS" ====
***
~* Da Effectz *~

Abhilash: kya subah subah chutiya forward bhej taa hain?
Anish: You brisht insaan! forgot that you like only romantic poems, love stories, and other mushy forwards :D
Abhilash: You are 100% correct there...
Akula: You also don't forget that you are also not from mumbai.
Anish: I'm not from Mumbai. I'm from Navi Mumbai :) Hey shashi, i was just kidding re. Dil pe mat le yaar :) After all, where ever we are from, we are all just INDIANS :)
Akula: Tu kaha le ya yaar <(º¿º)>
Abhilash: the world would be a better place without boundaries... i am a world citizen... i speak the language of love and peace...fuck you... akula!!!
Anish: Omg! I'm about to fall off the chair!!!!
Akula: Sorry!! we figure it late that you are guy
Abhilash: fall off the chair, you !@#$@@#$#$# ... the reception has the first-aid kit!! break your pen@#$#$ ... she'll heal it...
Anish: you basket! that was a good one :) The poet in you is raring to go. Its time to pen down "Romance of a Goon, under a brishtful moon" by Abrishtlash Warrier. :)
Abhilash: That was a good one too... hope i am under a brishtful moon... two moons actually!!!
Akula: ya ya, but the night would look like moon day with 2 moons then.
Abhilash: abhay @#$#@$#@%$#$ from hyderaBAD... do u even know what the connotations are of two moons? forget it... do u even know what a "connotation" is?
Anish: And so the plot thickens... concoction of connotations, with two moons adding their flavor!And whoever said life is plain vanilla, better eat his words, or at least taste one moon :) Jeba, you there? we miss your interjections in this very happening e-mail thread. Wake up!!!
Akula: If you read the mail properly, and i suggest read the mail properly, I was actually talking about light and brightness of 2 moons and about "connotation".
Anish: RUNNING COMMENTARY: And Shashi has made a come back!!! Assuming Abhilash doesn't read mails properly, would you enlighten us with your understanding of "light and brightness" of two moons and the associated connotation? Our viewers are eager to hear you talk :)
Jeba: Looks like its a lot about two moons and way too many morons! Whilst you go on mooning... this bloody Indian don't have time to breathe... don't wanna miss the bus again!
Abhilash: i cannot read your mail again... that is asking for too much. what the fuck does that sentence mean anyways??? and jeba, what happened? your ass on fire kya?
Jeba: Ass already roasted... trying to save other vital parts! :(
Abhilash: nahi, yeh theek nahin kara tu, anish!!! spare me the torture of hearing the hyderBADi talking about moons!! would have sent him to titan if i could have...
Akula: where do you think this will end up!! then at moon or light.
Anish: I don't know where this will end up. But if you don't stop talking, you'll end up at Titan :D And I don't mean the Titan showroom in Hyderabad! :)
Akula: after all you are "lash", if you would have been abhilash then i would made u "lash"and listen i think anish!! is trying to keep you busy!!
Akula: I don't think like u
Anish: I don't *think* like u
Abhilash: we all knew that... good that you realize it now. you are closer to enlightenment now... than ever before...
Abhilash: akula writes: "and listen i think anish!! is trying to keep you busy!!" WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT EXCLAMATION MARK DOING THERE AFTER 'ANISH'?
Akula: for your kind information i have written to you to read it, but not to review it.
Anish: the cool akula, and brishtful abhilash,We are now on the verge of waging a proxy cold-war by e-mail. Chillax guys :) We're here only to have some fun. And Akula, itna dil pe mat le, nahi to mooh mein lena padega! ~* Om shanti Om *~
Abhilash: i am like that only... you have a problem, then don't write wrong english.. wrong that i can catch.. if i can't, good for you.. good for me... and anish, good that u don't "think" like him... if he ever does, that is...
Abhilash: Meri daadi main aag lagi hain, aur janab akula maachis main aag lagaane ko aaye hain!!

An ode to my dear ‘kitti’

2004-09-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

Kitti, or the cute little cat that entered my life on May 24th, 2001 left for heavenly abode today, the 5th of September 2004. His meows still buzz in my head, and I can feel him going round my legs in an effort to show his love. His purr still rings in my head, reminding me of the countless naps we have caught together. I can still feel his ‘bottle brush’ tail, which was the flag of antagonism on seeing another male cat.

Kitti entered my life as a mid-sized cat, extremely scared of his surroundings. His countless encounters with ‘vasu’, another broad-faced male cat in the locality, left him wounded on his left leg and hiding on the back on my settee for days together. A little medication and lots of love, made kitti fierce as any other cat in the locality. At times, his encounters with vasu left him severely wounded. On one occasion, kitti lost his front fang. On yet another account, kitti ate just about anything and swallowed a chameleon. This made him really sick, and on the got him to verge of life and death. A few injections and plenty of nutritious cat food got him back to the pink of health and ready for his next competitor, blacky.

Come monsoons, kitti developed severe chest congestion showing typical symptoms of heavy breathing and an occasional sneeze – symptoms of a respiratory illness in cats. My dad and me took him to the vet, who again gave him injections. I left for Pune on the 31st of August for a new job. On my visit to Mumbai in the weekend, I learnt that kitti had been refusing food for the last 6 days and was living just on water. Again, we took him to the vet who gave him another injection to increase his appetite, which had no effect. Kitti continued refusing food, which prompted Tarun and me to take him to the vet again this morning.

At the vets’ clinic, kitti was unusually restless, wriggling out of the bag and extremely scared seeing the number of dogs there. Seeing kitti’s unusual behavior, we left him inside the car for a while for him to get ‘free.’ When kitti was fine again, we put him back into the bag and got back to the clinic. Another 10 minutes, and kitti was restless again. This time more than anything I have seen. Kitti wriggled out of Tarun’s arms. Kitti got ferociously violent and scratched Tarun to let go of him. Resistance from Tarun got him a bad bite on his hands and me rushing to get Kitti under control. Caught the uncontrollable animal by his neck flap and held him against the ground to calm him down. Now, kitti did what he does when he is most scared. He urinated uncontrollably and finally became docile. Meanwhile, hearing the unearthly moans, the attendant at the clinic asked me to take Kitti to the vet immediately, ignoring the queue. When I picked up Kitti, he was limp, loose and almost lifeless. He was making sounds like sneezing and breathing very slow. Took him to the vet’s table and lay him there. He was gone. My Kitti had breathed his last. His eyes still wide open, he lay lifeless on the vet’s table until he was officially confirmed dead.

The feeling of having a loved one die in your arms is so emotionally traumatic. Though, I was strong when this uneventful episode occurred, I am shaken now. Loneliness gets to me and I can’t help but miss Kitti. I loved him, love him, and will always. He was a family member, and not just another pet. We will always miss you kitty. May your soul rest in peace.

An Idea can change my life

2004-09-02T15:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, I am writing in from Pune city. I moved base, thanks to a new job. Just as soon as I got here, I purchased a prepaid mobile connection and that too an Idea Chitchat to very well complement my philosophy of life - live an idea.

Impressed with their well-conceptualized ads, I had made up my mind to buy an Idea instead of any other. Hours passed and as I discovered the features of the service, I was stunned beyond movement to find that Idea Cellular charges its customers even when they call up the service helpdesk.

As quality and customer service become an indispensable part of every industry, the latter is often a liability for the company. Organizations spend millions of dollars providing customer service and post-sales support. For a cellular operator like Idea Cellular, this is not the case. Idea charges its customers for support. For example, if I want to activate roaming on my connection, calls made to the helpdesk as chargeable as per Idea Cellular. I have not seen such a policy with any other cellular operator anywhere in India. Even Reliance is better in this respect - calls made to customer care numbers are toll free. So Idea Cellular, since "an idea can change my life", how about the idea of providing toll free customer support?

Reliance invests 1500 Cr. in TCS IPO

2004-08-20T03:01:00.000-07:00

Reliance puts Rs 1,500 cr on TCS IPO

I was spellbound, amazed, and utterly disgusted reading this headline. Reliance and the Tata group are two top business houses in India. Though one would say there is a healthy competition between these, the areas of business and business objective vary greatly. Some businesses also are direct competition to each other.
This sentiment of competition and loyalty can also been seen among employees of these groups. For one, I do not subscribe to the 'market domination' and 'aggressive' policies of Reliance. Take Reliance IndiaMobile for an example. You can very clearly see through the policies and objective of Reliance to kill the competition and gain market domination, which is so different from Dhirubhai's so called dream of providing cheap telecommunication for each Indian.
Although I am a subscriber of Reliance IndiaMobile, I detest this kind of unfair competition. Now when Reliance has shown such keen interest in acquiring so many shares of the TCS IPO, my opinion about Reliance just got firmer.

Really, Reliance does operate by the punch line, "Mere baap ka sapna, sab ka maal apna."

Disclaimer: India is a democratic country. Each one has a right to have his say and be heard. Opinions expressed here are solely mine. Reliance, please don’t cut off my phone or sue me for this!

Nokia 6230 - Chronic Technophilia

2004-08-16T20:00:00.000-07:00

Chronic technophilia! What else would I call this? This time it struck, it made me buy the perfect phone - the Nokia 6230. This phone is also the costliest I have ever purchased - standing numero uno at INR 18,500(about USD 415). Adding to my ever-expanding list of gadgets, which includes a digital camera, two camera phones, a mini PDA phone, and a portable flash memory-based mp3 player, this phone becomes the 18^th I have used.

So what's so good about this phone? Let me start with the physical features. At first glance, this phone resembles the massively popular 6610 in terms of size and weight. The phone form factor is candy bar type, and weighs around 90g. The curves in this phone are mostly squarish, bringing out it's corporate-friendly personality. The VGA camera is located on the back with the oh-so-nokia strip extending to the side of the phone. The phone loudspeaker and infrared port are stylishly located on the right side of the phone. The power button is located on the top and neatly designed to make it look perfect. As in other models, the volume keys are located on the left side for easy access during calls. The keypad design, again, is mostly squarish, with wide buttons in the mid row for large fingers. The keypad also features a five-way scroll for quick navigation. This phone belongs to the 6-series phones from Nokia(6230, duh?!?), which are known for their business-oriented features.

Getting to the interface, regular Nokia users will fail to unlock this phone the first time. This phone will not unlock with the left soft key and star (*) combination. Instead, you have to push the five-way scroll inside and then star (*) to unlock this beauty. It may take a while before you get used to pushing the scroll key to select. Apart from the standard Nokia features, which include address book, messaging, call register, settings, gallery, organizer, applications, and services, this phone also contains a menu for media. The separate profiles menu has been done away and has been included inside settings. Games are now included inside the applications menu. The right soft key is 'Go to' in standby mode, and provides access to mostly frequently used functions such as create mms, bluetooth options, inbox, gallery, services and so on. The left soft key continues to activate the phonebook. The interface is extremely fast and the phone response to key press is simply outstanding. The graphics for the menus have also been slightly changed from the 6610 or 6800.

Going deeper inside, the phone is based on the series 40 platform. The screen resolution is 128x128 with a refreshing support for 65,536 colors. The display screen is made of active TFT, unlike my T610, allowing easy visibility in sunlight. The phone contains 8.8MB (wonder how nokia comes at this odd figures, why not 9MB!) of internal memory and comes bundled with a 32MB MMC card for additional data storage. The camera in the phone is a VGA CMOS sensor, which manages to capture images at a resolution of 640x480. The camera also doubles up as a video recorder with no 9 second limitation. You can capture videos of upto four minutes, which makes this phone stand apart from earlier videophone models.

Another incredible change in this phone is the quality of the loudspeaker very unlike the 6600 where mp3s sound like AM radio! Nokia has finally realized the importance of a good-quality loud speaker and has come quiet close to that of Sony Ericcson. The inbuilt mp3 player is easy to use and supports a 5-band equalizer. Presets such as rock, pop, and jazz are inbuilt, but you can also create your own presets. Mp3 files can be set as ring tones, message alerts, or alarm ringers. So this means, you can wake up to your favorite song without bothering to leave your computer on.

Connectivity for this phone is accomplished using Bluetooth, Infrared, and GPRS. Unlike the earlier camera phones, bluetooth can be turned on and off at will. Infrared connectivity is pretty much same, though transferring mp3 files (more than 2MB in size) takes a good five to ten minutes. GPRS along with EDGE provides a superior surfing experience. Wallet allows you to shop online directly from your phone, without having to bother about the security of your credit card information. The phone also contains an e-mail client for downloading mails from pop3 or IMAP servers. This means you can check your mail and reply to them on the go. The mail client, unlike earlier models (read 6800) is responsive and fast. There are also loads of clipart, images, and animated gifs for use with MMS messages.

Other features found in the 8310, such as voice dialing and voice commands, which were left off in most color screen models, have been included in this one. Radio quality is crystal clear, camera quality is beyond average, and the network signal strength in this phone lives up to the Nokia pride.

Summing up, this phone has everything a technophile like me would ask for. With a 65k color screen, a good camera, a video recorder, a media player, MMS and surfing through GPRS, voice dialing, radio and a massive memory of at least 40 MB expandable to more than 512 MB, this phone is rightly touted as the 'perfect phone' and vouched for by yours truly.

Driving & Dido

2004-08-12T17:45:00.000-07:00

Last I was happy for so many reasons. Took to the wheel quiet some time past midnight, listening to music, and cruised along the streets of Vashi, New Bombay. Dido's Thankyou was filling the chilly, moisture-laden air of the night and my mind was absorbing each and every word of the song and relating it to things in my life. The streets were empty, the rain was pouring. The breeze was gentle and the car I was flooring. An experience to cherish and remember for life.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I
Got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window,
And I can't see at all

My car window is foggy and I can't see at all.

And even if I could it'd all be grey
Put your picture on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad
It's not so bad

I see a pothole coming. I'm too fast to slow down. Is it going to be a bumpy ride? Pass over it and realize It's not so bad.

I drank too much last night, got bills to pay
My head just feels in pain

Feel like going home and having some whisky.

I missed the bus and there'll be hell today
I'm late for work again

It's quarter past one, and I'm working tomorrow. I'm gonna be late for work again.

Heard it once and wanted more. Heard it twice and it was so nice. I wonder how tiny things in life, like this, give so much happiness?

Have you ever wondered...

2004-08-09T14:26:00.000-07:00

...what happens to Spiderman’s webs after he has finished swinging?

Spiderman whooshes to places by shooting webs from his wrist. He swings on these webs, alternating between the hands, to produce forward motion. I wonder what happens to these webs after he has finished swinging.

Do they keep hanging there for people see and acknowledge the existence of Spiderman? Or do they vanish into thin air? Or is it that they retract back into our friendly neighborhood hero's wrist?

I wonder what happens. Now why didn’t Sam Raimi think of that? Food for thought?

WRC in Mumbai

2004-08-02T23:19:00.000-07:00

Participants Information Brochure

The World Rally Championship (WRC) is now in Mumbai. The event commenced on 31st July 2004 and will continue till 31st August 2004.

The details of the event are as follows.

Track location: Chakala, Andheri (e), Mumbai to Marol, Andheri (e), Mumbai

Track morphology: Loose gravel, muck, and lots of water.

Weather: Mostly cloudy and rainy. You may experience thunderstorms occasionally.

Admission criteria: Anything with wheels, two or four. Any fuel, as long as your vehicle can run.

Expected competitors: The track shall be inundated with public transport buses, three-wheeler rickshaws, cyclists, and pedestrians.

Best of Season: When it pours like crazy and local trains stop functioning.

Track Details: The stretch from Chakala to Marol has been selected as the venue for this WRX season. The track comprises an abundant amount of loose gravel, potholes, and knee-deep water. Being open to all classes of vehicles, the track is expected to be slow moving. You may also experience stalled vehicles, as all vehicles may not comply to requirement regulations and cannot be driven through water.

Four-wheel drives may be of utmost use to wade your way through the gravel filled water. Should your vehicle’s tires get thrust in gravel or a pothole, switch to your four-wheel option to drive you out of the pit. If you don’t have a four-wheel drive option, ask bystanders, spectators, or junta for help to push your vehicle out. Storm water drains may be occasionally open to allow recession of excess water. You must keep a careful eye not to drive into these, as they can be difficult to see when the track is flooded.

Beware of two-wheelers or three-wheelers. These categories of vehicles are known to change course at lightning speeds giving you very little time to avert a collision. You must therefore be extremely cautious when driving in this track.

This track has been designed with utmost care and precision for your rallying pleasure. Incase you have any queries or wish to contact us, contact the Bombay Municipal Corporation (BMC) instead. We can’t be of much help anyway. If you are representing the BMC, go away! For everyone else, happy rallying!

Disclaimer: All images copyright of their individual owners.

Original Joke

2004-08-02T15:15:00.000-07:00

Fr.Agnels (FRA) and Sacred Heart (SH) are two prominent schools in Vashi, New Bombay and have been around for around two decades. Both these convents have had a healthy competition not only in producing toppers, but also sports, facilities, and quality of education.

However, the competition doesn't end there. Pass outs or alumni from these institutions continue to hold reverence for their alma maters. Agnelites and Sh'ites continue to baffle each other with every achieved feat. And I being an Agnelite myself have no different views. Keeping the tradition of slurring alive, I hereby present this joke. Sh'ites, no offense intended :)
***

This was not a long time ago when the rivalry between Sacred Heart (SH) and Fr.Agnels (FRA) reached new heights. FRA kept achieving incredible feats in academics, sports, quality of education, higher education, and post graduation.

Now, the management of SH decided they should at least compete if not catch up with FRA. They decided to start an engineering college, very similar to FCRIT (Agnel's engineering college.) After approval from the govt. and raking finances, the project saw light of the day.

Guess what they decided to call it?

Sacred Heart Institute of Technology (SHIT)!!!!!!!!

A memorable evening at barista, bandstand

2004-07-28T00:35:00.000-07:00

"Saab, kuch khane ko do saab...do din se kuch nahi khaya hai"

A street kid was nudging at J's shirt. With a dirty face tainted by smog, this urchin was no older than ten. His shirt was torn, and what he wore underneath resembled what I call, the remains of childhood.

While we munched on Lays, sipped coffee and smoked cigarettes, this kid stood on the street in front of Barista Cafe, Bandra bandstand. I was beginning to lose my patience and cursed the little nuisance to go away, as would anybody else. But not J. In a jiffy, J sprung up on his legs and headed toward the kid.

I thought to myself "Yea J, shoo him away!" and turned to sip my coffee.

What I saw next left D's jaw dropping down and me in total bewilderment. J took the little devil by his arms, and led him in to the forbidden area of the shop. The little devil showed much resistance, fearing for being beaten up and his life. Now, J assured him with a clasp on his shoulder and led him into the shop.

Meanwhile, we the spectaculars outside were moved by this noble deed. The street kid came out of the shop with a box of tart and a grin on his face, which could be called nothing else but a Kodak moment.

D pecked J on his cheek and exclaimed, "I love you J!"

J looked at me and blurted, "See this is what you do to patau girls!"

Florian Cloud de Bounevialle Armstrong a.k.a. Dido

2004-07-26T20:36:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how well you can work listening to Dido. This woman is not only extremely talented in her profession, but also looks very adorable. Besides a unique voice, her songs mostly have a dynamic tune coupled with very commendable lyrics. Very few artists have this winning combination.

Be it White Flag, Thankyou, Life for rent, or Christmas Day. Each song is unique and different unlike many other artists who repeat the same beats or rhythm in many of their songs in an album. My pick - Don't leave home.

(Chorus)
Oh, Don't leave home
Oh, Don't leave home
If you're cold, I'll keep you warm
If you're alone, just hold on
coz I will be your safety
Oh, Don't leave home

I arrived when you were weak
I'll make you weaker, like a child
Now all your love you give to me
when your heart is all I need

(Chorus)

Oh how quiet, quiet the world can be
When it's just you and little me
Everything is clear and everything is new
So you won't be leaving, will you?

She's good :)

langua franca de nostalgia

2004-07-26T13:10:00.000-07:00

It's funny, how good, nostalgia can make you feel. Especially when it is to do with your childhood. One such memoir that floods me with nostalgia is my second-grade storybook called Golden Stories. Thought I had lost this book when several attempts failed to locate it in my house.

Yesterday, I was sorting out things and clearing the mess when I found this book inside an old utility box. Boy, am I glad to have it back! This book is a collection of twenty timeless short stories. The publishing year dates back to 1987!

When I read it first, one story in this book carved a niche in my young impressionable mind. It's called Who was to blame? I shall typify it quote un-quote to preserve the simplicity and lucidity of the language.

Who Was To Blame?

Author Unknown

TEN men were one day crossing a field when they were caught in a sudden thunderstorm. Taking their heels, they fled for shelter to a little ruined chapel. The thunder grew louder and louder and every now and then streaks of lightning stabbed at the little chapel. Inside, the men cowered in terror and each one believed that there was a sinner in their midst and the lightning was seeking him out. They had to find the sinner, so each man put his straw hat outside the door of the chapel. The owner of the hat which was struck by lightning would, they decided, suffer the same fate. Scarcely a minute had passed when there was a blue flash and a straw hat lay smouldering on the ground. Without compunction the others pushed its unfortunate owner outside in the storm when the lightning struck again and the little chapel came crashing down.

And so it was that only the man who had been ejected from the chapel was spared–for their cruelty the nine others paid with their lives.

Greenery in my head

2004-07-24T05:04:00.000-07:00

Took a test at quizilla.com and discovered my brain is green in color. Pretty cool huh? :)

The synopsis of the test is shown below.

What Color is Your Brain?
brought to you by Quizilla

Understanding religion and God

2004-07-23T13:29:00.000-07:00

Most people think I am an atheist because of my casual tendencies. I have been asked several times by friends, "Do you believe in god?"

On my way to work today, my usually wandering mind trotted across topics of religion and theism. So what do I think of these?

Human beings are gifted with an immensely powerful characteristic known as will power. History is proof enough that just about anything can be achieved just by sheer will power and an equal amount of hard work. Nothing is impossible in this world. Mankind has made it to the moon, belittling the remote targets on Earth. As they say, where there is a will, there is a way.

So if we are all powerful and invincible, just by relying on will power, why do we need the concept of an above all, almighty?

Man is a social animal. Each one of us needs something to look up to, and look down upon. That's how it works. Nothing is ever equal and balanced. Take life for an instance, it has its share of happiness and sorrow. One can only hypothetically say, "My life is fully balanced." We need someone to look up to when we are sad or weak. They are mostly friends, parents, relatives, and ultimately God. We also look down upon people. This is especially true when we have attained worldly success over someone or something. They are mostly subordinates, friends, competitors, or enemies.

Whatever goes, we always have someone to look up to. This is the concept of God.

Just as explained above, we look up to God. We ask Him to help us achieve our targets, get us out of tight situations, or pray for something we want. Each one does this in his/her own way, by talking to God, praying to God, pleasing God or being blessed by God. This method of communicating with God is based on the concept of Religion. Religions are man's manifestation of talking to God and reaching Him.

Since evolution, mankind has colonized different portions of the globe. These portions not only vary in terms of location, but also in terms of climate, food, skin color, and culture. I strongly believe in the clause that you are what you eat.

When so many factors varied between zones, it was quiet natural that mankind, with its sheer variance in thinking and creativity, had conceptualized God in different ways. Various cultures came in to existence. People started convening according to their faiths. Today, when the globe is shrinking and continents are getting closer, it is quiet evident that the method of reaching God, for people from different continents or varying faiths, is going to be different.

Man, with his goal to succeed, has tried and will try to force upon his belief on others. Man has and will continue to preach his thoughts and ideas of God. I see preaching religion as the oldest form of marketing. Today, we market to sell products. Back then, man marketed to sell his ideas about God, in the form of religion. Buyers are the ones who formed a following to the religion. When differences in religion occurred, castes or sects were formed within. When two or more religions varied strikingly, it led to communal conflicts and bloodsheds.

So what does all this mean? Is God merely a figment of human imagination? Are religions merely a way to reach God? Why don't we have any scientific evidence of God?

The human mind is a very powerful and complex combination of chemical reactions and electrical pulses. God exists, if you think He does. You will get all the evidence and proof to root your belief. If you think he doesn't, He won't. You will get all the evidence and proof to prove he doesn't.

If you do believe He exists, you will depend upon a Religion to reach Him. This religion you follow will be the result of several influences you have had in your lifetime right from birth to your most impressionable years.

What about scientific evidence? The technologically and scientifically inclined will ask for solid evidence to the existence of God. I, being a theist myself, believe that everything around us is made by the Supreme Creator, God. This includes the earth, water, sun, wind, and planets. Science is what we call our understanding of things around us. This means that science is also a subset of the Supreme Creation. It is confined to our minds. It is not something out-of-the-world that provides answers to the unanswered. It only grows with our understanding of things around us. God has shown Himself several times in History. But these sightings cannot be explained by science, which points to our own diminutive understanding of the Supreme Creation.

To sum it up, all of us have a very powerful mind. It's up to us to use it for our well-being. How we do it is entirely up to us. If you need God, communicate to Him. If you don't, do it yourself. After all, it is your own will.

Rush Hour 3

2004-07-22T11:53:00.000-07:00

No, this is not the title of the next Rush Hour sequel. It's my life as I lived it today morning.

Woke up at 8 a.m. after baffling two alarms only to switch on the bathroom geyser and go back to snuggling in the very comforting atmosphere created by LG Inc.

Later at 8:45 a.m., a background process in my head triggered the awakening. Eyes opened wide, and I cried

"God damn! Am gonna be late for work!"

Jumped out my bed straight to the washbasin and gave the microorganisms in my mouth a death sentence.

"Kya aap close-up karte hain...?"

"Nahi!"

I prefer Colgate Gel. It's "Fresh breath energy!"

8:52 a.m.

Nothing feels better than a hot shower. The warm droplets felt so good on my body. Each muscle and each nerve asked for more. Wish I could have been under the shower for a little longer. But alas! One minute later than 10:30 a.m. and your name goes into the 'late register.'

9:04 a.m.

Put my hand into the closet and pulled out the first T that came out.

"Good, it's the dark blue T."

Sprayed a generous amount of Axe Pulse and jumped into my clothes.

"I love this fragrance!"

What next? Sprayed Adidas Sport Fever natural vaporiser on the T and I am all set to go. Do I hear my mom calling?

9:11 a.m.

Breakfast is ready. Gobbled up everything on my plate at choking speeds. Sipped warm coffee and I am fully awake.

9:20 a.m.

Slipped into my floaters, wore my jacket, and I am all set to go. It's my mom again.

"Will I get a drop to the temple?"

Mentally calculated my ETA at work (which is ETD from highway+ 43 mins under normal traffic conditions) and said

"Chalo..."

9:24 a.m.

I kick-start my bike, and drop mom to the temple.

9:32 a.m.

I am on the Sion-Panvel highway, throttle wide open, I am doing a very modest 80 kmph.

10:12 a.m.

I am at Sakinaka signal. I peek into the watch of another motorist (I don't wear a wrist watch.)

"Damn! Is it 10:12 already? I hope his watch is fast. Time to zip through traffic at break-neck speeds and back-wrenching maneuvers..."

10:17 a.m.

I collide into another biker from the behind. No casualties here. It's just the right-indicator of my bike that has taken the toll of the crash. It’s cracked, withered, and falling to pieces. No time to stop and check. Signal goes green, and I put up a drag test and do a 60 in less than 6 seconds. Engine is roaring, muck on the road is splashing, and the cop is giving me an eyeful. I think to myself

"Who cares!"

10:23 a.m.

I am at the parking lot. A quick glance at the turn indicator shows considerable damage. Fixing it means replacement. I ignore it for the moment and get running. Get into the elevator at the nick of time.

10:27 a.m.

I am in :) Made it to work 3 minutes short of being late. I take a deep breath and relax.

The rush hour ends. It will be back tomorrow. With new challenges and possible collisions. I will wait for it. I will live through it. Amen.

And so I begin ideating...

2004-07-21T03:32:00.000-07:00

What's life without an idea?

Ideas are for life. Life is full of ideas.

Life is "living an idea or ideas." Life is good. It's an idea after all.

Do you get the idea of life?