Kumar, A muser !!!

Sivaji: Review

2007-06-15T10:31:00.000-04:00

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwThe Emperor Strikes Back!

Despite being a hard-core Rajni fan, I am trying my best to give you an objective review.

First things first, this movie is a gift for hard core Rajni fans: dollops of humour(tons of nakkal), oodles of style, well choreographed stunt scenes and the magnetic on-screen persona that truly reminds you of the effervescence of a Billa-Ranga-Baasha-Rajni. But what it doesn't have is a story, and that's probably the weakest link in a "could-have been" very strong chain.

Sivaji is probably the first Tamil movie that has kicked up quite a frenzy in the national media. I have never ever seen a Tamil movie-release being mentioned ahead of the presidential candidate on the headlines of every major news network. The Indian media devotes time to news items with a good "stickiness" quotient in order to cash in on all those eye balls that are either hungrily waiting to lap up thalaivar or itching to make that smart-ass comment. And, only Brand Rajni allows you to do that. I am in no way slighting the A-list of technicians, director, music director and producer who have joined hands with Rajni, but I guess in the end the one person who can sustain your interest is Rajni. I think a creatively bankrupt Shankar realized this quite early into his beaten to death script of cleansing the Indian system. Although, credit is due for amplifying thalaivar's "Style" quotient to never-seen-before levels. Rajni, despite his age and the constant doubts of whether he can do it again, delivers, correction, delivers BIG TIME.

The S-U-P-E-R-S-T-A-R - R-A-J-N-I lettering appears on the screen with a new and improved BGM track from A.R. Rehman, which I thought was pretty cool. Sivaji doesn't have the characteristic "cracker" opening that you expect from a Rajni-film. It's pretty sedate where a masked Rajni is brought to the central prison. I think Shankar was trying to build-up the viewers expectation and make him anticipate how the man behind the mask is going to look like since his last release. You know, like unveiling a work of art. But, I must say that it falls flat. An understated opening is not Rajni's style and thankfully that’s the only mistake that Shankar has done while showcasing Rajni for his millions of fans. So what has made thalaivar to land in prison? That constitutes the next 140 minutes of the film.

Sivaji (Rajni), a green card holder and a software systems architect in the United States returns to Chennai to invest his savings of 200 crores for the last 20 odd years to build a foundation that provides free education and medical facilities. He is ably assisted by his young Amma-Thambi (when conventionally addressed thaimaman) Vivek. Vivek also takes the additional responsibility of getting Rajni hooked up with a girl of Rajni's tastes, surprise- surprise, a good tamil ponnu! The first half is quite mundane where the story goes through the motions. And, you know what, its like football!

First pass – Rajni and Vivek play the comic-duo act while wooing an irresistable Shriya (she has set the screen on fire in the song sequences) who works as a sales girl in a music shop. The comedy is really good when its just Rajni and Vivek, but it gets rather staid when its ensemble. Especially the sequence with Solomon Pappiah and patti mandram-fame Raja who plays Sivaji's dad. Ballelakka is quite average, nothing to write home about. Rajni's dance movements in the songs are straight out of an aerobics class. Thotta Tharani and Shankar have the Andan Kaaka hangover from Anniyan. But he more than makes up for it with the "style" song. It is shot well and I thought that will be the highlight of the film until I saw athiradee in the second half. *pure dynamite* Ok, no more digressing, back to the first half.

Second Pass – Rajni bribing all the politicians and removing all the obstacles that comes his way to build the foundation; Rajni getting shocked with the rampant corruption in the system and so on and so forth. The bar scene where M.S Bhaskar, Vivek and Rajni meet to discuss 'business' is quite funny. There is this fight sequence in the music shop where I guess the motive was to use music instruments as props and communicate subtle humor ala Jackie Chan. Bad Idea!

Third Pass – Rajni's mini showdowns with Adhiseshan (Suman) a greedy educationist who wants to stop Rajni at any cost even if it requires him to change the government 'just-like-that'. Suman is suave as the villain but I don't think he can hold a candle to Ramyakrishnan (Padayappa) or Sathyaraj (Mr. Bharath).

So the scenes in the first half unfolds just like a football match. First pass- second pass-third pass, Goal? Nope! It clearly misses the mark. Shankar is not able to present it cohesively. There are not many punch dialogues, although Vivek gets a to mouth cheeky one-liners (especially his take on the young wannabe superstar heroes). It works in parts mainly because of the comedy but does not flow seamlessly like it ought to considering the fact that Shankar is the director.

At the end of the first half Rajni is broke and is brought to the streets. Adhiseshan mocks him and encourges thalaivar to take-up begging as a profession by donating him a one rupee coin (gets the desired effect, fans start booing the villain *chuckle*, only Rajni can make people so involved). Rajni tosses the coin in the air, if its heads he is going to unleash the lion in him (singha vazhi) and if its tails poo vazhi. No prizes for guessing, singha vazhi it is! And at this point you get to hear the punch dialogue "summa adhuridhila" which you would have seen on the trailers. So that sets up the second half, how does thalaivar turn around the tables?

During the interval, I was a little worried. I was cursing Shankar and felt that Rajni should have said yes to Mudhalvan. Lot of thoughts were running through my head. The scenes before interval certainly upped the ante but it still was pretty uninspiring. Could this go the Baba-way? With a heavy heart I settled back into the seat readying myself for the worst and praying for the best.

The second half is far-fetched, illogical and one-dimensional. And that dimension is Rajni who is smoking hot. He oozes charisma in every single frame that he keeps you yearning for more. Shankar has gone over-the-top by coming up with some ridiculous and impractical ideas to cleanse the system. The issue he wants to tackle here is unaccounted black money and how it can help India to transform into a model state. Shankar, please, you are no Manmohan Singh or P. Chidambaram to dabble into "Black-Economy" for a whole 90 minutes and present your master-thesis in setting things right. Stop dumbing-down issues that are beyond you to make it palatable to the masses. Phew! Now with that said lets get back to Thalaivar. Rajni and Vivek are on a mission to bring out all the black money in the country. How they do it? Don't ask they somehow do it. Their plan is to get a 50 percent share of all the black money that bigwigs haven't disclosed. They adopt Shankar's ingenious method of converting black money to white and pump it back into their "Sivaji-Foundation" project. So all the duped politicians and other biggies including Adi seek revenge. They somehow seize Rajni's laptop that contains his financial transactions and put him in prison. Post-which there is a silly twist in the climax, which will make the purists wince. But what it does is extend the climax and bring the uber-cool mottai Rajni to the silver screen. I think Shankar saw what the lakka lakka mouthing king-Rajni could do to Chandramukhi. So he has aped the concept to heighten the tempo of the film. It works well especially the matrix style stunt scenes with mottai-boss Rajni in the climax. Rajni's mogambo-like mottai getup will make the ticket price worth it. Don't dismiss this as a fan-boy observation. This is something that needs to be seen, to be believed.

The things that work in the second half are plenty. The bajji-kadai scene where Rajni offers Adi a bajji is coool. Rajni makes a new style statement by flipping the one rupee coin sideways. The action sequence with Adi's men in the godown is brilliant. Adi's men lecture Rajni about the perils of coming solo into the villain's den. And Rajni's repartee brings the house down, " Panni-nga dhaan kootama varum *pause- dishum dishum* , Singham single-aaa dhaan varum." Rajni also does an impersonation of MGR, Sivaji and Kamal songs which is rip-roaring. Rajni imitating somebody, hmmmm he doesn't do that very often, and so it was quite novel and enticing. The picturization of the songs in the second half are brilliant. Thotta Tharani should be commended for the sets of the Sahana Pookal song. Recreating a glass model of the louvre and a spherical dome, with a desert on one side of the glass panel and a waterfall on the other is no mean feat. And the song Adhiradee is a visual treat, I think this is something that will be talked about for ages. So, like muqabla from kaadhalan, Shankar packages a mini-movie in this 4 and a half-minute song that keeps your adrenaline pumping. Bravo!

Well, net-net, I know the story is pretty lame. But who gives a flying duck for logic in a Rajni movie. I thought Shankar might for a change, but he hasn't. So its one scoop less in what could have ideally been triple scoop chocolate sundae with a cherry on the top. Anyway its summer and I am thrilled that I got my ice cream!

Mere Sapno Ki Rani Kab Aayegi Thu- Part 3

2007-01-21T12:52:00.000-05:00

This is the third part to a story that I started sometime last year. I think I have apologized enough for my inaction all these days :). Many of you would not even remember the first 2 parts, so here are the links to them, part 1 & part 2

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Appan put the stand on his Hercules and was walking towards the door when he heard the gate violently creak open. A livid Appan turned around to see the postman’s son precariously perched on his dad’s cycle gasping for breath. Appan had told the boy a million times to not open the gate door by banging his cycle into it, but, to no avail.

Postman's Son: “Anna! You got a trunk call from Madras, come to the post office”

Appan: “I will be there in a minute!”

Chandru usually had the habit of calling up Appan at unearthly hours. It was easy for him as he had a phone at his home. Appan on the other hand, had to embark on a 15 minute journey to the postman’s house (which also doubled up as the post office) to receive the call. Moreover, the postman usually gave Appan cold stares. And, quite rightly so, no self respecting government employee receives calls for others at 10 in the night. But, anyway the frown usually turned into a smile when Appan gave him the customary 1 rupee at the end of the call.

However, on this occasion Appan didn’t mind the late call from Chandru. Appan walked into the post office and sat on the chair next to the phone. The normally agitated postman looked excitedly towards the phone and told him that the call was from a lady who identified herself as Visalakshi. Appan found that strange, because it was the first time Chandru’s wife was calling him. It definitely must be something important he thought. The postman pulled up another chair and sat opposite to Appan.

Postman: “Love-aa?”

Appan: "WHAT???"

The postman’s eye brows arched and he looked at the phone questioningly. Appan, understood that look, and then realized why the agitation gave way to excitement. This occurrence really had the potential to be a major talking point in the 36 houses that dotted the village tomorrow. He still vividly remembered the animated discussions and heated arguments in the village surrounding the mating of the milk man's dog with the temple priest's dog. Though the issue eventually got resolved in the panchayat, the rumour mills in the village went so overboard that the two factions resorted in spreading wild rumours about their personal lives. Appan found it particulary amusing when the holy priest accused the milkman of being too pre-occupied with the grocer's wife that he forgot to tie-up his dog. Anyway, Appan knew that he had to stamp out the issue then and there before it reached monstorous proportions. Just as Appan wanted to clear the air, the phone rang.

Appan (alarmed look, on seeing the Postman still sitting in front of him with a wicked smile): “Hello, Appan here.”

Visalakshi: “Hello Thambi, how are you?”

Appan: “ I am fine! How is Chandru?”

Appan (covers the receiver, and looks angrily at the postman who was still sitting in front of him): “ Chandru is her husband, she is married for God’s sake, can I have some privacy please!”

Visalakshi: “He is busy as always.”

Postman (with a sly look on his face, gets up from the chair): “Oh she is married, interesting, then you need all the privacy in the world!”

Appan (red-faced, removing his hand from the receiver): “So, ANNI (stressing on the word and searching for the postman who by then left the room), what’s the matter? “

Visalakshi (Surprised on being addressed Anni, that was a first!): “Oh nothing!”

Appan: “Nothing??”

Appan looked skywards and was thinking of the tales of his lecherous pursuits that will be doing the rounds in the village for a long time to come for a nothing-phone call.

Visalakshi: “Uh, actually, will it be possible for you to come to Madras tomorrow?”

Appan: “Is there any occasion?”

Visalakshi: “Yeah, sort of, Kathiresan chettiar’s daughter is a distant cousin of mine.”

Appan (in rapt attention): “Oh!”

Visalakshi: “I am sure you are aware of your impending engagement”

Appan: “Yeah I got to know about it today.”

Visalakshi: “Do you know her name?”

Appan (sheepishly): “Uh, actually no, that would have been my next question.”

Visalakshi: “You see that’s the problem. We are still old fashioned.”

Appan was waiting expectantly to hear the name…

Visalakshi: “You both are young and I thought it was important that you people get to know each other a little more before the engagement. By the way, let me tell you she is a really smart and talented girl. She can sing really well. She also paints. In fact she recently stood second in the singing competition organized by the Rotary club of Karaikudi.”

Visalakshi: “So, she is in Madras tomorrow visiting her uncle and maybe you can take her out to the Kabaleeshwarar temple. By the way, they have painted the temple you know, very tastefuly done actually.”

Appan(ears trained hard at the receiver to catch that name): “I will be there tomorrow, so what did you say her name was?”

Visalakshi (laughing): “Oh I am sorry! Silly me, I always have this habit…. “

Appan (irritated): “The name please?”

Visalakshi: “Valliammai.”

Appan: “Hmmm Valliammai”

Visalakshi: “Yeah Valliammai, so come to our house directly once you get down from the bus tomorrow thambi.”

Appan couldn't believe his luck, he was actually going to get a chance to talk to the girl he was going to get engaged to before the engagement. Through this one single act Chandru's wife has liberated the chettiar community from the time-warp that it was stuck to. She epitomized the progressive broad-mindedness of the Chettiar woman of the seventies. A smiling Appan placed the receiver and turned around to face the postman. The postman gave Appan an ugly leer.

Appan (raising his voice): “It's not what you are thinking, she is my Anni, didn’t you overhear the conversation!”

Postman (with an offended look): “Me, Overhear! Chi chi chi….moreover, you needed the privacy!”

Appan (taking out a 1 rupee coin from his pocket): “Oh please! I am going to get engaged next month to a girl called Valliammai”

Postman (shocked): “Oh the poor thing! Does Valliammai know about this?”

Appan (stuffing the 1 rupee coin in the postman’s pocket): “That’s it! I don’t have to explain all this to you .”

Postman: “You don’t have to pay me sir, your secret is safe with me, not a word I promise!”

Appan (livid): “What secret? This is the usual....Ah, nevermind !”

Appan looked at his watch, it was 10:20. He could probably make the 11 o’clock bus to Madras. Appan walked hurriedly out of the postman’s house.

Postman (walking into his bedroom): “Hey Santha, do you want to know something interesting!”

Santha (postman’s wife who is half asleep): “What could possibly be interesting in the middle of the night?”

Postman: “You know our engineer Appan na…but promise me you will not tell anyone else!”

To be continued...(two more parts)

Another apology

2006-09-12T23:25:00.000-04:00

Firstly, I apologize for my long absence. A combination of factors prevented me from polluting the world wide web with my thoughts. The factors being

1. Relocating to a new city, Hyderabad
2. New job, where lazy me has to cope up with hyper-active boss (yeah I know a very unhealthy combination that shows strong symptoms of a bad appraisal :) )
3. Not having an internet connection at home

A lot of things to write about, more importantly, a story to complete. Please keep visiting this space :)

Lionel Missy

2006-06-30T00:17:00.000-04:00

I (Ram) was watching the highlights of the Argentina versus Serbia group match with a school friend of mine.

Friend: "Oh look there is Aimar"

I was surprised because not many Indian women take interest in Argentina let alone Argentine football and let "one-more" alone Pablo Aimar. I was also surprised because the closest my friend ever got to a ball was bringing the "globe" from the staff-room to our geography class.

The commentators got super excited when Argentina scored the second goal of the match in what was eventually going to be a 6-0 rout. And they very well ought to because that goal was a result of 24 sublime passes. It was a treat for someone like me who has supported Diego's Argentina since Italia'90. So I naturally did a celebratory jig, however, I was once again surprised because my friend wore a disinterested look on her face.

Ram: "What's the matter?"

Friend: "Ah nothing!"

Ram: "NOTHING! What do you mean nothing ? That will probably remain the greatest goal to be scored in this Cup."

Friend (seeing if the shade of the nail polish on her left thumbnail matched the right thumbnail):"Is this one a little darker? Elle's light pink is a lot darker than Lakme's."

Ram(preventing myself from killing her): "You didn't answer my question!!!"

Friend:"Oh the goal, yeah it was good"

Ram: "Good... thats it!!!Good....what do you know about football?"

Friend: "Oh shut up! Don't you dare make any sexist comments.I know my football. Heck, you know what, in the seven-a-side college team, I was left back."

People sure change for the better when I don't see them for a couple of years. I mean, not that I am bad influence or anything but from the globe to a football, damn! She played for her bloody college while I..uh...well...all I had to show was a pot belly and a worn out couch. But there wasn't much I could do anyway. I was simply not cut out for Football or cricket or basketball or kho kho or tennikoit. Although I was an expert at analyzing the finer aspects of the game like the players, clubs, transfers, substitutions, angle of free kicks, hairstyles, weight of the ball and the grass on the pitch. During my school days I actually thought I was probably a little too you young to emulate the Romario's, Becker's and the McGrath's. And, now seeing the Messi's, Nadal's and Pathan's I think I realize I am a little too old to do something about my deficiencies.

Friend(determined to stay on topic): "Did you ever play football?"

I was jolted out of my reverie. It was as if she read my mind and moreover she looked menacing. I wasn't very good at differentiating hues of pink but my colour coding capabilities were good enough to notice that the lady's face was a flaring-bright red. It was better if I put an end to the issue now before she asked me any disconcerting questions of her own.

Ram(trying to change topics): " Uh...hey...you know what...my sister uses Revlon...just the right shade of pink, it would even match your lipstick...do you wanna try?"

Friend: "You didn't answer my question."

Ram(cornered look):"Uh...yeah, I play..I used to play"

Friend: "Never saw you play in school"

Ram (a little scared): "I played with the guys in the colony"

Friend: "Oh so you never played for our school"

I needed to do something fast and thats when I used a trick that I unconsciously picked up from the males of the Pillai family. It was as though my forefathers were talking to me like the voice from heaven in B.R Chopra's Mahabarata: "Son! Whenever the woman is on the offensive, you make her realize that you are the man of the house and you do not like to get talked down to. Fear not my child, stand your ground!"

Ram: "You made your point Pinkie, I didn't play for the school or the university or the district or the state or the country, but I know to appreciate good goals"

I didn't know if that worked but Miss Pinkie reverted her attention back to her finger nails. Both of us were quiet while Argentina scored 3 more goals and peace prevailed until Lionel Messi scored the 6th goal in the 88th minute of the game. Miss Pinkie jumped with joy

Friend: "Now thats a goal...what a player, he is so cute"

Ram: "What!!! It was a good goal alright and if not for Tevez's pass it would have never been a goal"

Friend: "Tevez looks like crap and so does that baldie who scored the greatest goal of the world cup!"

Ram(sneering):"This isn't fancy dress competition and his name is Cambiasso, hey wait a minute..."

Friend: "What?"

Ram: "You only know the names of the good looking guys, don't you?"

Friend: "NOOOO, dont assume things"

Ram: "Okay whats the name of Argentina's coach?"

Friend: "Pekerman"

Ram: "Ahaa so you have a thing for older guys...the Richard Gere...Sean Connery sort...now I know why you admire Abdul Kalam so much"

Friend: " Oh just shut up Ram, don't make a fool out of yourself"

Ram: "Whats the name of their goalkeeper?"

Friend: "I dont have to answer that question to prove a point!"

Ram: "You bloody well can't. Because you don't fancy Abbondanzieri."

Friend (defeated look): "You can think whatever you want to."

Ram(clearly enjoying): "Okay all you have to do is explain what offside is in Football and I swear will do whatever you want me to do...think about it... its like a blank cheque"

Friend (thinking hard for a minute): " Stop being juvenile, I know having cerebral capabilities that matches a frog doesn't help much, but, you could atleast make an effort to act mature like other adults."

Getting compared to a Frog, definitely hurt and I was trying my best not to show it.

Voice from heaven: "Son! persistence pays don't budge an inch. Women insult you when they cannot justify themselves."

Ram: "So Miss Left Back doesn't know. Hey! did you say you were left back for your team or left back from your team"

Friend ( face pales): " I don't have to respond to ape-men like you."

I have to admit it, I felt a little proud. With one accusation I made a huge leap. (from being a frog to being an ape).

Friend: "Its the right hand side of the ground"

Ram(puzzled): "What?"

Friend (a little unsure): "Offside"

It took some time for me to make the connection. Apparently Miss Pinkie got the football "offside" confused with the cricket "offside". It had me in splits.

Ram (uncontrollable laughter): "So whats onside then?"

Friend ("I want to run away from here" look): " The left side??"

Ram (falling off the chair): "Brilliant!!!"

Auto-crazy

2006-06-11T02:52:00.000-04:00

"Once you get to Chennai, buy your own auto", sagely advice from an American friend who clearly didn't enjoy his tryst with the auto-man empire of Chennai. A five kilometere journey in the city could cost you around 50 rupees. A 4 rupee price hike in petrol could make autocratic drivers demand 70 rupees without batting an eyelid. Hmmm, you might ask, "What ever happened to the meter?" The auto meter is a decorative piece of instrument made by a company called PRICOL and is universally detested by the auto-seekers of Chennai. Primarily because every manufactured piece is carefully redesigned by our enterprising auto-men which makes the meter run faster than Superman.

So to sum it all up, an auto ride is one harrowing experience. To make it a little less harrowing you should probably get yourself a business law degree with a specialization in negotiation.

However, the entire exercise leads to some lighter moments. At a recent get together with some of my college buddies we were recollecting a couple of such exchanges:

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SK (friend of mine in Adyar):Sir, can you come to Ashok Nagar?
Auto guy: Yes Sir.
SK: How much?
Auto guy: 150 rupees sir.
SK: Hmmm..I know Adyar is in Chennai, isn't Ashok Nagar in Chennai too?
Auto guy:!!!!
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The distance between Adyar and Kilpauk is 11 kms. 8 rupees per km is considered extremely reasonable

Vivek (in Kilpauk): Can you come to Adyar?
Auto guy: 120 rupees sir
Vivek: 40 rupees
Auto guy (stops the vehicle and pulls the key out of the ignition): I have driven this auto for 8 years, and I swear on this key you will never get an auto.
Vivek: Ok, 45 rupees, last and final!
Auto guys (shakes his head): Saaaar!!!
Vivek (magnanimously): Okay 60 and no more.
Auto guy (looks skywards): Fine lets go

a couple of hours later...
Vivek: Kumar, the auto guy fleeced me man
Kumar (smiling inwardly, welcome to Chennai! bangalore boy): So how much did you pay?
Vivek: I paid 60 da
Kumar (slightly flustered): from where to where?
Vivek(in the same breath as going from the living room to the bath room): from Kilpauk to Adyar
Kumar(incredulously): What 60 rupees from Kilpauukkk to Adyaarrr?
Vivek: Is that a lot? I knew it. Didn't like the sight of the guy.
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Kumar (a long journey at 12 in the night, trying to make it a little interactive):So,how long are you driving this auto?
Auto guy: 10 months sir. I am getting married next month sir. I live in Adyar kuppam sir.
Kumar(ask one question, get three answers not bad, only if my clients were that easy): brill..
Auto guy (starts off before Kumar completes): Not exactly Adyar kuppam.Actually sir, I belong to Madurai sir. You know Madurai sir, captain's hometown sir. I am voting for captain sir. Are you voting sir?
Kumar: Uh..I
Auto guy: Captain is a nice guy sir. I am not exactly from Madurai sir, I am from a place called Usilampatti sir, famous for rowdies sir.
Kumar (gulp): Oh I see.
Auto Guy: Even I was a rowdy till last year sir. We usually start off when we are 16 sir and we are in the gang till 22 sir and then they let us go our own way sir.
Kumar(fidgety, 3 more kms to home): Oh cool
Auto guy: I didn't like it sir. My brother is also in the gang I am asking him to come out of it sir. But they pay him well and he even was a part of that high profile murder a year back sir. He got 1500 rupees for it sir. You would have seen it on paper too sir.
Kumar(shitting bricks): Uhh..what..
Auto guy: I hope you dont get me wrong sir, we don't kill sir. We just make up the numbers sir. You know like in the movies. We are in the background. All murders we do are for real-estate and politics sir. We don't kill common men like you sir.
Kumar( stretching head out to see how far the apartment is): Very nice, you are considerate.
Auto guy (flashing a smile into the rear view mirror): Yes sir, that we are.
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I don't know if that even sounded remotely funny. Situational humour is best when translated on screen.

Not many people get a chance to develop a personal relationship with the auto-driver to know the difficulties they face. Now, don't get me wrong here, I whole heartedly agree that 70 rupees for 5 kms is daylight robbery. But they have their own problems, paying off the RTO, paying off the cop, paying off the owner if its a rented auto, supporting their family etc.

There have been many poignant experiences with a slight undercurrent of humour. I would like to narrate one such experience. (I really know this auto guy well and so we kinduv pull each others legs very often)

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Auto guy: All you officer people, you earn so much. Whats there in giving us 10 rupees more with a smile on your face.

Kumar: Let them increase my pay and I will be happy to give you the extra 10 rupees. In fact I always tell my manager about you.

Auto guy: Yeah right! I believe you. Tell me, Whats my name?

Kumar: Chinniah

Auo guy: Ah you are educated so you remember names.Ok tell me how much you make every month..10,000?

Kumar(slightly uncomfortable): Uh..a little more

Auto guy: Ok lets say 15,000. Hmmm thats a lot of money. Thats how much I make in 2 months.

Kumar(I didn't want him to make me feel guilty): I have to pay off loans you know. 6 years of fees to be precise.

Auto guy: You studied for 6 years!! Are you an engineer?

Kumar (phone starts ringing): Yes, uh... Hello...fine that would be great, I will come and pick it at 6. Thanks I appreciate it.

Auto guy (listening to me on the phone talking English): Sir, its all got to do with English no sir?

Kumar: What?

Auto guy: Everything no sir. Only if my son speaks in English, he will get a job no sir?

Kumar: Well our CM can speak only Tamil, he is doing good.

Auto guy: But his nephews, whats his name... Maran, I saw on TV sir. He was wearing suit boot and talking in English and that too with white men sir.

Kumar: Yes Chinniah, you got to make your sons study English.

Auto guy: You should thank your father sir, he made you study. You speak excellent English.In fact, better than the guy in house number 6 sir.That guy thinks he is some lord labaku or something sir.

Kumar (smiling): Yes but will you make your son study?

Auto guy: I have two sons sir, I am sending one to the corporation school and the other to the convent. I can't afford to send both to the convent. The fees is 4000 rupees a year. Atleast in corporation school they give him meals.

Kumar: Yeah, can't you take a loan?

Auto guy: How many loans can I take sir? I couldn't pay the EMI for my auto so the bank guys seized it. I am driving my brothers auto. Every day I have to hear my brother's wife berating him for letting me ride it for free when they can make 150 rupees in rent every day.My wife berates me for being spineless. Women sir...they are impossible...never marry sir!

Kumar: I am sorry Chinniah.

Auto guy: Don't be sir. Even my mother made me study sir. I didn't, I started smoking when I was 14, drinking when I was 16. I smoked grass and mixed with all the wrong people. My brother on the other hand was not as smart as me sir.But he had good friends sir, he is hardworking. He owns 5 autos sir. Even if I didnt study and talk English like you sir, I could have atleast been like him sir.

Kumar: Don't worry man, your son is going to do good.You work hard too, I always see you in the auto stand day or night.

Auto guy: I hope so sir. He is the sole reason for my existence sir, I have really mended my ways sir.I have stopped drinking sir. Every paise goes for their education.

Kumar: Thats really nice to hear. In 10 years you will own 10 autos. Your son will buy them for you.

Auto guy (laughing): I am not greedy sir, really. I know I am over charging you, its only because I really need to make that much money support my family sir, make my kids study sir.I don't want to build a bungalow sir. I even dont want 1 auto sir. I just want my family to be healthy and educate my kids sir. My mother provided me an opportunity, I want to provide them an opportunity.

Review: Fanaa- Destroyed in Love

2006-05-27T23:22:00.000-04:00

First of all I would like to be clear on this point: Fanaa is definitely NOT a once in a lifetime experience. Second of all, this is just "my" opinion after seeing the movie. Third of all, I can confidently say that I am in the majority. So, don't get swayed by extremely biased reviews that are making the rounds on the wild wild web.

Fanaa marks the return of Kajol to the silver screen after a five year hiatus. Thats probably reason enough to bring people into the theatre. Now, when you also have the added bonus of Aamir acting opposite Kajol, I wasn't too surprised when my colleague mentioned that all the tickets for the movie this weekend were sold out on Friday.But, miraculously I was able to book my tickets online on Satyam's website, a few hours before the movie. Now don't ask me how I was able to get tickets on the day of the show. Remember, I told you its a miracle! hallelujah! a miracle that made me waste the longest 3 hours of my life. I must admit that the performances were top notch and there were a few good scenes, but, they were far flung. And, trust me, on hindsight, in a movie with a run-time of 170 minutes, a few good scenes with top notch performances doesn't make it a worthwhile trip.

Kajol plays the part of a blind Kashmiri girl Zooni Ali Baig. We are shown a blind Zooni saluting the tricolour in the first scene of the movie. However, Zooni is unsure of where the national flag is and ends up doing a flag salute while not facing the flag. And, the moment her mother pushes her in the direction of the flag, Zooni breaks into a smile. Kajol is not the kind of person who is drop dead gorgeous, but as soon as she breaks into a smile you start smiling with her.Kajol's introductory scene is truly a sight for sore eyes that have been constantly abused by skimpily clad heroines and extremely suggestive dance numbers. She is so spontaneous and so full of life, she is one of the three reasons that makes you stay till the end of the movie (will come to the other two later). Zooni's ageing and over-posessive parents, Zulfi (Rishi Kapoor) and Nafisa (Kiron Kher)are reluctant to send their daughter to Delhi along with her friends for the republic day cultural event. However, they end up giving a teary and poetic farewell to their daughter for what is supposedly a 7 day trip. These scenes are overtly saccharine that could even make a maudlin flinch.
Digression 1: At this juncture, I would like to thank my parents for sending me off on year-long trips without such emotion and melodrama.
Digression 2: I realized that if I don't cut down on food, if I don't work out and if I continue to sit on my ass day in and day out,in all probability I am bound to end up like Rishi Kapoor. Being compared to Rishi's girth is A SCARY THOUGHT indeed, but look at the bright side, on hearing this there is the possibility of people relating me to Rishi Kapoor during his "Bobby" days.

On reaching Delhi, Zooni and her gang are in the company of the chatty and charming tour guide Rehaan Qadri (Aamir Khan). Some of the interludes between Zooni's friends and Rehaan are quite funny. Predictably, the lovely lassie with a ear for shayaris gets smitten by the tour guide who just spews couplets left, right and center. Some of the couplets are good, but before you get a chance to soak it in, we have someone belting out another. In fact the shayaris, after a point get to you to so much that you will end up thinking that it was perhaps a well disguised Gulzar or Javed Akhtar reeling one after the other. The director tries to give a lyrical tilt to the love that Zooni and Rehaan have for each other. But, he fails to realize that poets in this world are sadly a minority. There is also this one irritating scene that I HAVE TO tell you of. A blind and unattended Zooni tries to cross the road herself in a bid to impress Rehaan. The girl is under the impression that boy friends and girl friends do such sensless things to impress each other. Mr. Kunal Kohli (he is the director) please put on your thinking cap before you come out with such "priceless" scenes.

Ok now back to the story. Rehaan who is also in love with Zooni is afraid to commit himself because he has some other important things that require his undivided attention. However, that doesn't stop Rehan from sleeping with Zooni. Now dont raise your eyebrows, because when you come to know about circumstance#1 which led to the incident..er..sorry... intercourse, you are likely to say its a "but obvious" course of action. Hmmm, so what could make a conservative blind Muslim girl to sleep with a commitment-phobic tour guide whom she has known for a whole week- what else? the traditional bollywood rain-dance. Post rain-dance Rehaan succumbs to the blinding love of Zooni and decides to marry her. He also decides to get Zooni a fresh pair of eyes before their nikaah. Pardon me for equating eyesight to something as trivial as getting a pair of socks from shoppers stop, but thats how the scene plays out on screen

Doctor: How many times should we ask you to come for regular check-ups?
Patient: uh huh uh, what you saying doc?
Doctor: Ah nevermind we will get your retina fixed.

Post-operation
Patient: Dad I can see, Mom I can see

And thats not all, Zooni after her eye operation is immediately accosted by the police to identify a corpse.Its so bloody stupid. Anyway, back to the story, post operation, circumstance#2 separates Rehan and Zooni.7 years later you get to see Rehan junior because of circumstance #1. Rehan Jr. is "reason number two" that infuses some light hearted moments in an otherwise serious and slow movie fraught with emotion. Watch out for the sequence where the kid explains why he calls Rahul Dravid abba. The scene where he hands Aamir a glass of haldi milk is also rib tickling. Aamir is "reason number three" that will make you stay till the last scene plays out on screen. Aamir is extremely at ease when he plays the role of the tour guide in the first half. He is quite convincing in his second half avatar as well. I dont want to give too much of the movie, so I will just leave it at that. After watching Aamir and Kajol in scenes that they act together, you will (or atleast I) witness two actors who have completely contrasting styles and yet their on-screen chemistry is great.Kajol is an instictive actress and Aamir is quite methodical, but I guess the similarity they share is the intesity with which they act.

This movie has captured Delhi really well.The camera man should be commended because every frame is picture perfect.Barring Chaand Sifarish, I thought all the songs were pretty ordinary. There was this one horrendous song where they worked in some hindi tongue twisters ala "she sells sea shells" in to the lyrics of the song. My sympathies to the playback singers who sang it. You can go to the theatre and get destroyed, or if you are smart you can stay home and wait for the "destruction" to play out on TV.

Joke da machaan-3

2006-04-24T01:21:00.000-04:00

This joke was narrarted by a Finance professor who was training analysts from General Electric. He wanted to explain them a seemingly complex concept through a simple joke. My cousin who was one of the trainee's remembered the joke but didn't quite remember the concept :)

So this is third in the series- following my jokes about Michael Jackson and an Australian Army Captain.

Question: If you plan to ask your brother-in-law to loan you some money, what will you get from him?

Answer: Your Sister!

Review: Pattiyal

2006-03-23T08:53:00.000-05:00

Pattiyal is inspired by the Thai film "Bangkok Dangerous" (there is a slight hint of City of Gods as well). Sorry, if I broke the bubble, its not original. But, I have to admit that it has been well adapted to the tamil milieu, it is technically slick and has some amazing performances. Pattiyal is just what Kollywood needs to spice things up in what has so far been a dull 2006.

The story is centered around childhood friends Kosy(Arya) and Selva(Bharath)who are contract killers.The bearded Kosy is very talkative and very very drunk throughout the movie. Selva, who is deaf and dumb can talk only through his eyes and hands. Arya as Kosy is fantastic. He is no wonder the rising star, women like him for obvious reasons, the college going crowd considers him cool, the audience at B and C centres seems to have developed a special liking for him after his Arindhum Ariyalum portrayal of the 'local' rowdy. So it wasn't very surprising to hear women shriek and men shower confetti on Arya's introduction. Bharath plays the mute Selva to perfection.His performance was a revelation, because I thought he over acted in Chellamae and didn't particularly shine in an ensemble film like Boys.In Pattiyal, Bharath manages to transform himself from a cold hearted killer, to a trusted friend, to the lovesick youngster with such amazing ease.

Saami(Cochin Haneefa) is the middleman who provides Kosy and Selva their targets. Its nice to see such a talented actor like Haneefa back in a tamil movie. I can never forget his performance in Mahanadhi-to me, that was the epitome of evil. In Pattiyal his character is not as villainous but nonetheless he comes up with a brilliant performance. Contract killing in chennai is portrayed as something thats very unorganized. Kosy and Selva are just normal guys who lead a very ordinary life in the slum playing football, watching TV and going to movies. Similarly, Saami is a government employee who gets into the killing business for the money. Infact, the local goons in the slum are not even aware of the Kosy-Selva- Saami nexus.

Saro (Padmapriya) and Sandhya (Pooja) complete the star cast. Saro lives in the same slum as Koshy.For some inexplicable reason, she is head over heels over the perenially drunk Koshy (Woman, wake up! he kills people for a living). There! got that off my chest.I wanted to yell at her in the theatre but the constant shrieks for Arya made me a little nervous. Selva's heart warms up for Sandhya, a pharmacist, when he goes to her shop to get some medication for his cold.The scenes shared by Selva and Sandhya slackens the pace of the movie. I guess its because Pooja has to talk for herself as well as Bharath which at times tests ones patience.The romance track could have been just as cute as Sandhya (Pooja). I think I am being a little harsh because Ghajini has kinda raised the standard bar. Padmapriya, ex-analyst at GE, through Pattiyal has gone for an image makeover. She goes the distance to shed off the "pretty, shy and dimunitive girl" image that she acquired from her last hit, tear jerker movie Thavamai Thavamirundhu - How?- What else, an item number. I must admit that it wasn't as bad as the ones you get to see from Malavika and Namitha. I guess the Sania Mirza quote - "well behaved women seldom make history" must have struck a chord with Padmapriya.

Now to the cons. The first half is incoherent. An insipid flash back (The last time I liked a flash back was Dhool where the Vivek-Vikram-Jo voice over's was something novel and funny), random murders and some random scenes which just add some more reels to a very short movie (run time 130 minutes). But, its just a small blip in an otherwise taut and well executed movie. The climax is absolutely riveting where Bharath delivers a knock out performance.The songs are brilliant, YSR seems to be conquering new heights every passing month (His releases in the last 6 months- Sandakozhi, Kanda Naal Mudhal, Kalavanin Kadhali, Pudhupettai, Pattiyal, AIBI- Impressive!). The director (Vishnuvardhan) has picturized the songs imaginatively. The "Poga Poga...." song is the pick of the album and manages to tickle your funny bone on screen.

I know this a late review, anyway its a good movie go and watch it! :)

PS. Appan coming shortly- So sorry !

Mere sapno ki rani kab aayegi thoo - 2

2006-02-24T01:21:00.000-05:00

Appan usually enjoyed his ride home, especially on a summer evening. The breeze got cooler as Appan started to pedal faster, something that he couldn't do with the regulatorless rickety table fan that adorned his modest two-room home. The road home was the first tar road to be built in the district. It was sheer bliss, newly laid, spotlessly clean except for some patches of dry dung deposited by some rather unappreciative bovine. However, Appan's current predicament made him least bothered about the road, the ride or the breeze. He was getting engaged in two weeks and he had no clue about the girl he was getting engaged to.Appan knew that this whole episode had something to do with his mother, despite the letter being written and signed by his father. Appan's mother was the kind of person who always worked behind the scenes. She was a very deceptive woman and conveyed the impression of just another dimunitve and powerless housewife. But as far as Appan's household was concerned every decision was conceptualized in the kitchen and implemented in the living room (his rifle toting father's bastion). So Appan's mother always had this knack of making her husband believe that he was still the Colonel, but in actuality he was still the soldier carrying out orders. However, Appan had to admit that he never remembered his mother making a wrong decision. But, this was his marriage and he couldn't let it to his mother's judgment. He had to see the girl and talk to her before he committed to marry her.

Appan was trying hard to remember if he had seen Kathiresan Chettiar's daughter in any of the events that he recently attended. The only images that he seemed to recollect were of the enormous Kathiresan Chettiar, who strongly resembled a beached whale. Infact people called him "Gundu Kolukatta Chettiar" behind his back, not because of Kathiresan Chettiar's affinity for the delicacy, but his imposing jelly belly. Appan just hoped that obesity wasn't something that was hereditary in the Kathiresan household. The flurry of thoughts didn't slow down Appan as he reached home five minutes earlier than usual. Just as Appan was opening the gate, a bright red lambretta zoomed past him. Appan considered the lambretta yet another ugly reminder of the "The License Raj Economy".The lambretta was regarded as a princely possession, as the waiting list to get the scooter was 7 years. The people who managed to bypass the list either had strong political connections or had enough money to cough up for a second hand lambretta. A second hand lambretta, was usually no more than 2 or 3 months old. The second hand buyer was willing to pay twice its original value as he didn't have the patience for such long waiting lists.

The lambretta that zoomed past Appan reminded him of his cousin Chandru and his "JL" . Chandru was a mine of information when it came to women, cinema and politics. He would be able to shed light on Appan's would be. Chandru was a production manager at the AVM film studios, the nation's second largest movie production house located in Madras. He led a very glamorous life as the nature of his work enabled him to have a working relationship - his wife made sure it was a very strict working relationship when it came to those beautiful actresses- with most of the top movie stars on an everyday basis. Since politics and cinema went hand in hand in Madras*, Chandru had friends who were friends of politicians, which explained "JL". Chandru named his Lambretta JL because he was smitten by the sultry actress JothiLakshmi, who, despite all her flab had quite a large fan following in South India.It brought a smile to Appan's face because Chandru's wife thought that by calling it "JL", Chandru was paying homage to the late prime minister and freedom fighter JawaharLal Nehru.

Appan felt a lot better as he decided to place a trunk call to Chandru's office first thing in the morning and get to know more about -"Kathireswoman"- (for the lack of a name he decided to her Kathireswoman) tomorrow.

To be continued

Gundu: Gundu in Tamil means fat

Kolukattai: A chubby South Indian sweet delicacy. It looks like this

Chettiars: A tamil speaking community whose origins are in Chettinad, Tamilnadu. More here.
Gundu Kolukattai Chettiar:

*The last two Chief Ministers of Tamilnadu were leading playwrights/script writers (C.N Annadurai-1967 to 1969 and M. Karunanidhi- 1969 to 1971)

Note: India's first scooter appeared in the market place in 1972 whereas this story takes place in 1971. Please bear with the inconsistency :).

Not a review: Rang De Basanti

2006-02-03T11:58:00.000-05:00

Its about an hour since I left Ega theatre. There was pin drop silence. Even the "ants in the pants" kind of people with car/bike keys in one hand and their impatiently ringing mobile phones in the other stayed till the last scene was played out on the silver screen.

Rang De Basanti is a difficult film for me to review. Its impossible for me to objectively think about this movie and analyze each and every facet with cold clinical precision. Not that I always review movies in such a manner. I am not a serious critic who tries to find flaws just for the sake of finding them, its just that there are a very few things that excite me and good cinema is one such. A movie is a labour of love, commitment and pain, laudable efforts need to be recognized. I accept that the chances of Aamir Khan reading my rave review of his performance are bleak, but the chances of someone googling "kamasutra" and ending up in pagalak are bright(my webstat analyzer dutifuly reminds me everyday).I am digressing. I am writing this post to urge my friends, Armchair Philosophers and avid Vatsayana readers(if you have reached this far, I am sorry this is not Kamasutra) to go and see this movie.This movie has its share of flaws. But, I would like to concentrate on the message the movie wants to convey.

There are so many things in the movie that I identify with. Like for example, there were a few friends of mine who strongly believed in the saying " Patriotism is the fervour of fools" . I was taken aback and after 'God knows how many' hours of trying to make them see things my way, I have to admit it, I slowly began seeing things their way. They had a very simple answer to stonewall each and every effort of mine to impress upon them about the spirit of oneness and the concept of a nation-that answer or rather question being- "Why should I care? What has this country done for me?"

The protagonists in this movie are not any different from my friends and the way they express their thoughts on the uselessness of freedom and patriotism reminded me of the argument that I had with my friends.

The comments on my recent New Year post unwittingly summed the core theme of Rang De Basanti which gives an indication of how the director has managed to sense the pulse of the nation.

An excerpt from the New Year post,

I do understand your point. People dont react as long as they get affected. It makes for interesting discussion at cocktail parties. But I beg to differ. I agree I am not the kind of guy who is a revolutionary. And what if I am a revolutionary? Who am I to revolt against- the Jihadis, the sexually starved Indian urban male, bad roads no electricity?

Things were much simpler in the 30s, when we had the most basic of things to fight for- Freedom. Things are different now, I can vote the coming elections and I can write a long letter listing my woes to the municipal office.Thats the only thing the "established" world lets me do.

I am the average powerless law abiding (for the most part) citizen who doesnt mind standing in long queues, the guy who looks for a dustbin to dispose his plastic cup. And I want everyone to be like me and until that happens I will continue to write about things that irk me.

I believe our nation is in a transitional phase. A movie like RDB is an effort which will serve as a catalyst to help us eventually get out of our shells. Aamir's parting words in Rang De Basanti is worth mentioning- it may sound cliched now but is truly profound when viewed on the screen.

"There are two kinds of people in this world. There are people who tolerate everything that comes their way in life and then there are some who don't let life dictate terms,these people shape their own destiny"

So in addition to writing about things that irk me, I am seriously thinking of ways of how I could make myself more useful. For starters, I am planning to get myself a voters card.

Apologies

2006-01-31T10:15:00.000-05:00

Hello People (i.e if there are still people who come to this blog for updates)

Pressing family commitments (interpret it whatever way you want to, I don't care :) )and Depressing professional commitments has made me put Appan and his would be Vallikannu on the backburner.Yeah, the only progress I have made so far on the story front is give my heroine a name. Not an easy job you know considering the number of options that I had, so, it took me a while to decide between Muthukaruppi,Kannathal and Valli Kannu. Anyway, I promise the next part will definitely be worth your precious time. For the uninitiated, this blog is read by some really important people (Dr's.,consultants, future novelists, budding entrepreneurs, traveling linguists and Engineers). So please give me 10 days to sort out some really unimportant things in my life before I start with some really important happenings in Appan's life.

Thanks and Regards
Kumar Alagappan

Mere sapno ki rani kab aayegi thu- A prologue

2006-01-07T07:28:00.000-05:00

Appan scribbled “Nothing Happened” signed his name on the log book and walked out of the control room. The job of a maintenance engineer at Neyveli Lignite Corporation was seemingly simple when all the German boilers and English steam turbines were at peace with their Indian operating conditions. It was close to 10 pm as Appan walked towards the cycle stand. He was singing “May-ray sappu nokki raani kabbu aa-yay-gee thoo” as best as any Tamilian could. Burman’s latest hit from Aradhana made the entire nation (even the non-hindi speakers) join in chorus when it played on the radio.

Just as Appan was about to get on his Hercules, he saw his favourite security guard, Govindsamy, motioning him to come to his desk.

Guard: “Saar, please sign against your name and collect your mail.”

Appan (in a surprised tone): “Can’t be possible. Is my name written on the cover? ”

The only people who ever wrote letters to Appan was his cousin Chandru and his mother. To his knowledge he has never mentioned his office address to either of them. They usually mailed their letters to his house address.

Guard (looking at the cover): “Yes. If your name starts with A and ends with N, with a couple of Ps and an A thrown in between, then I am indeed fortunate to be among the 30 percent of literates to grace our country.”

Appan (signing his name with an irritated look on his face): “Thanks, nice to know that I am working with people who can read”

Appan snatched the letter away from the guards hands and flipped the cover to look at the “from” address. Appan saw his fathers name written on it. Appan couldn’t remember the last time his dad wrote him a letter.

Guard: “ Has there been a death in…. ”

Appan shot a nasty look at the guard which made him shut his mouth before he could complete his sentence. Appan opened the letter to see 2 lines of his dads handwriting, which over the years had regressed to doctor-esque proportions. Appan, after deciphering his dads letter, crumpled it and threw it into the dustbin adjacent to the guard’s table and furiously cycled away home.

The guard walked towards the dustbin, looked over his shoulders, before bending down to shamelessly pick up the crumpled letter.

It read:

--------------------------Annamalaiar Thunai-------------------------------------
23rd July, 1970

Appan,
Your engagement with Kathiresan Chettiar’s daughter has been fixed on the 12th of August. Your mother would like you to reach home on the 10th of August. Plan your trip accordingly.

Jai Hind,
Retd. Col. AL. Nagappan

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

There was a faint smile on the guards face as he deposited the letter back to the dustbin. Mohammad Rafi started singing “Mere sapno ki rani kab aayegi thu” in his magical voice on the guards pocket transistor.

(to be continued)

New Year

2005-12-17T05:43:00.000-05:00

At the end of every year, the Media does us all a huge favour by over analyzing how every year goes by. They replay the rapes, the scams, the wars, the calamaties, the killings, the lootings and the bomb blasts.At the fag end of the year, journalists with their plastic smiles (or in a deeply concerned voice) wish us a happy new year and sincerely hope that the next year will turn out to be good.

By some curious mischance if things actually turn out to be good, half the journalists in this world would have to be sacked. Things have come to a point where nothing is considered news unless its bad news. People who know me well think that I am an eternal pessimist. I think I am just being realistic. I know its December 31st, you dont have to work tomorrow, just another excuse for you to party all night, drink to your liver's content and get high. But thats not going to make your new year any happier. You will invariably wake up late afternoon on the 1st with a really nasty hangover.An indication for the ordeals awaiting you in the coming 364 days.

So lets be objective about 2006 and not succumb to a night's partying and foolishly think that the New Year is going to be all honey and sugar. The best way to forecast anything is look at historical data and look for trends.Have you heard of the adage "History repeats itself". Offlate its been repeating itself with amazing regularity.

Do you know in 1981, Prince Charles married, England won the Ashes series, Liverpool were league champions and the Pope died. 2005 wasn't any different. I hope you see where I am going with this.

So my predictions for the next year.

1.Jihadis will continue with their painstaking efforts in teaching all infidels a lesson. Infidels: Anyone, it can be a Professor, a pregnant woman catching the train to meet her doctor, an office worker busily punching his keyboard trying to add a few more dollars to his company's coffers. Bush will continue his quest of finding Weapons of Mass Destruction. He might have to ocassionaly kill thousands of civilians. There will be some lives lost, but its all for the greater good of aMericANKIND or America's safety. Michael Moore and the rest of Bush's detractors will make movies,write columns,conduct surveys and opinion polls on how useless Bush is.

2.Mother Nature has been unwinding herself in too many ways in the last few years.I really do not know why Nature wants to expedite our passage to doomsday when we ourselves are furiously at work, constantly thinking of new ways to self destruct. So that gives rise to this multiple choice question,
Will 2006 bring us.....
A. An Earthquake
B. Flash floods
C. A Tsunami
D. A Hurricane/Cyclone
E. All of the above

3.Politicians will continue to be caught in compromising positions on Candid Camera. Scams of all sorts will be unearthed. We have already seen a gamut, from guns to fodder to coffins to something as simple as asking questions. So what if we cannot send a man to the moon, our politicans will continue to be imaginative and explore unchartered territories in their own way.

4. The media will continue targeting celebrities and will go beyond the call of duty to find out who sleeps with whom. Big B will end up doing 30 odd films. Rajnikanth will feature in another blockbuster. Vijay fans will continue lapping up his 5 gaana songs, 3 fights and mother/sister sentiments. Malika Sherawat will better her record of 17 kisses on screen.Tear inducing soap operas and artificial reality shows will register high TRP ratings.The Australian cricket team will beat the crap out of everybody. Federer, if he is out of form, will win 2 out of the 4 slams. If he is on song then he will go on to win 3 out of 4 slams.

5. The sexually starved Indian urban male will strike once again in one of the Indian Metros.The media will go bonkers for 3 days. They will ask all sorts of questions to all sorts of people about the lack of respect for women in this country. While the media play the role of crusaders, there will be 100s of women silently suffering a similar plight in the remotest corners of India. Think about it "Rape in Pallipalayam" does it sound newsworthy? "Call center employee raped in Banglore" now thats what is going to keep you tuned to your TV set in between all the cola and tooth paste commercials.

6. India will continue to be extremely concerned about moral degeneration of its society by pointing fingers at tennis players wearing short skirts and actresses expressing their opinions on premarital sex.Police officers who took 2 decades to catch Veerapan will continue to "do their duty" by roaming beaches, parks, restaurants and hotels by castigating couples for walking/sitting/standing together.Self righteous journos will splash pictures of men and women in private parties on their newspapers to sell a few extra copies.

Now to the other routine things,

Petrol and Gas prices will increase.
There will be some train accidents and Lalu will set up an enquiry commission as usual.
CTS, Infosys and TCS will hire thousands of people.
Its too early to say if Sania will win a slam but she is sure to get a couple of fatwas.
Some movie will run into troubles with the censor board or a religious outfit for inaccurately representing minorities.
Delhi will become dhilli (remember chennai,kolkota and bengaluru).
The Indian cricket selectors will be just as enigmatic as they have been all these years.

So after carefully reading newspapers, magazines and watching news channels all these years I can confidently say that 2006 is going to be like any other year.

The grass is green and the roses are red....
Hoping against hope, Happy New Year!

Review: Kanda Naal Mudhal

2005-12-09T09:25:00.000-05:00

Kanda Naal Mudhal from 'Duet Movies' directed by Priya.V, who has assisted Mr.and Mrs. Maniratnam with their movies, has been refreshingly presented despite its tried and tested storyline.

Story = Yesterday's biriyani
Boy-girl always fight....another guy comes into the picture....confusion and chaos which causes too many problems for the girl.....boy helps her out.....boy-girl love.... boy-girl hate.... boy-girl love again....the end

But, Priya has managed to package this wafer line story well. A good set of technicians, well etched characters, some really nice performances and rocking music somehow makes yesterday's biriyani very palatable. Krishna (Prasanna) and Ramya (Laila) had a very unpleasant fight when they were kids. Fate brings them back together again 20 years later, at Krishna's college fest but the unpleasantness continues. A few more years pass by and we are shown Krishna managing a software firm funded by his NRI friend Aravindh (Karthik) who hates marriage(Why do all NRI guys in cinema hate marriage?). Ramya on the other hand works for some company and supports her family. Her family consists of a younger sister who wants to badly marry her christian boy friend of seven years, a kid brother, a hearing impaired father and a really sweet but weak hearted mother (played admirably by Revathy). I think you can make out the story by now.

Now to the performances, the whole movie revolves around Prasanna and Laila.They have shouldered the responsibility very well. Prasanna has some amazingly funny lines in the movie.His perfect comic timing prevents us from realizing the absence of a comedian in the movie.However, he is not Charlie Chaplin throughout the movie. Prasanna brings out the right expressions when he is not able to decide on being selfish and proclaim his love to Laila or remain selfless and help his friend marry Laila. I don't know if its just me, but the way Prasanna carries himself resembles Surya in Mounam Pesiyadhe.Laila looks cute for most part of the movie except for the "Merke Merke" song where she looks absolutely ravishing in a green saree. I never thought Laila could play the role of a 'short tempered head strong girl who has an opinion about everything' so well. I have seen her in movies like Nandhaa where she mostly keeps quiet and in Ullam Ketkumae where even kids found her acting juvenile. So this was a pleasant surprise.I guess the director should again be credited for lending a whole new dimension to Laila's acting capabilities.Lakshmi who plays the role of Ramanima,a mother who will not rest until she sees her NRI son get married, raises a few laughs. Revathy plays Laila's mom with consummate ease that one can expect from such a seasoned actress like her.Karthik who plays the role of the NRI guy doesn't have much to do in the movie, he has a few scenes in the first half and then reappears at the very end of the movie. He doesn't overact and does what is required of him.

The movie has its share of flaws.Though all the characters seem realistic there is no plausible reason for their existence in the movie. The scene leading to the climax where Prasanna and Laila want to find out what's running through each others mind was an absolute joke. I have never seen people walking on the highway and talk about how they feel for each other when hundreds of monsterous lorries and buses are zooming past them. The dialogues in the highway scene (especially Laila's dialogues) makes you feel like tearing your hear apart.Sample this, " Yen nabanum nee, yen edhiriyum nee..." .It was more like a poetry recital, apart from people like Kannadasan and Vairamathu you wouldn't find many who can wax their eloquence in such a grim situation. I felt that the director hurried with the climax.Its a text book ending, I don't know how she muddled it up.

Yuvan Shankar Raja once again is top class. "Ilayaraja's son" will soon give way to "Yuvan Shankar Raja's father".Ilayaraja's shoes are really huge to fill but YSR who has a distinct style of his own seems to be getting there. P.C.Sreeram cranks the camera, and it didn't look any different from the other movies being released (which goes to say that all Tamil movies are well shot and technically slick). Priya, the debutante director does a really good job if one discount the climax. In this day and age where "Kollywood" is about king sized egos, its nice to see someone like Prakash Raj to have the guts and back a debutante woman director and a relatively inexperienced star cast. On the whole, this movie despite its predictability has been well executed and is a welcome change from the "3 fights,2 gaana songs,father/mother/sister/brother sentiment" formula. Some really enjoyable performances and well tuned songs makes it a worthwhile trip to the theatres. Its one of those movies that you have to watch with your girlfriend/boyfriend/husband/wife.(People who know me, don't worry I went with three fully grown men and NO I am not into that).

Hurricane Mupaatha!!!

2005-12-03T01:49:00.000-05:00

There has been a series of rain storms tormenting Chennaites and denizens of Tamil Nadu in the last 6 weeks. These hurricanes seem to be never ending. Just when you think that you have seen the last of the mupaathas, Bay of Bengal conjures a brand new Miniamma. I am tired of going to the office soaking wet. It especially takes a toll on your mental and physical well being when " the concerned authorities" in your office believe that a soaking wet employee would be VERY productive when you make him freeze in a centrally air-conditioned room. Actually, coming to think of it, it has increased my productivity levels. My frequency of visits to the rest room has doubled in the last month. If there are any tests like Arctic Circle Certified Eskimo, I think I would ace it.

Every morning I leave my home 'smartly'(please, my blog is the only place where I am given the liberty of associating myself with such adjectives) attired, looking forward to do some kili josiyam (an impolite way of saying market forecasting) with the North American enterprise communications market. I step out of my house, and I see a puddle of water lying between my house gate and the road. I try my best to long jump to the dry road (onlookers have mentioned that my run up and movements resemble Carl Lewis). 9 out of 10 times I manage to make the jump and save my leather shoes. Then the next big ordeal is to reach the auto stand dry. The only way I can do that is walk in the middle of the road as walking on the sides of the road makes me feel like a small fish in a HUGE pond. Now, walking on the middle of the road is not very easy as there might be this occasional kuppathotti vandi (garbage van) that will appear suddenly. One has to be extremely alert in such a situation as you will only have seconds to decide on your altered course to the auto stand. Lunging towards the right side of the road or the left side of the road should depend on the shallowness of the puddle on each side and your high jumping capabilities. High jumping because, you wont have the luxury of free space to take a run up to gather momentum and cross the puddle. 6 out of 10 times I manage to take the right decision and lunge my way to safe and dry land. Its very tough to do and you get better with practice. On reaching the auto stand, if I am still dry, I thank God for his divine mercy and start haggling with the auto-driver. Auto drivers these days just need a reason to charge you an exorbitant fare (the last absurd one that I heard was Sourav Ganguly not making the one day team). So the rains have made them double their usual fares.

So, now on getting into the auto I am resonably pleased with myself and I begin to entertain visions of reaching my office perfectly dry. But life is cruel my friends, I found out that the chances of getting wet inside the auto is double than walking the same distance by foot.The auto stops being an auto and gets converted into a motor boat once we reach the main roads (you should consider yourself lucky as long as the auto doesn't turn into a submarine, it has happened quite a few times in areas like Tambaram). Bright motorists rev up their engines and hit their foot on the accelerator pedal so hard that displace half the water on the main road into the auto. So the only way of avoiding the water is by sitting on the center seat, removing your shoes and placing it on the boot of the auto and rolling up your pant. When I step out of the auto on reaching my office, I look like the farmers shown in vayalum valvum (agricultural programme) on DD, wet and muddy. Instead of having paddy in my hands I will be having my shoes in one and my bag in the other.

2005-11-23T09:37:00.000-05:00

Hello Folks,
This has been A VERY busy 2 weeks. I still haven't completed what I originally set out for. I hope it gets over quickly so that I can resume blogging.

Things that I have learnt so far...

1. Now I know why people stay late at work.
2. Now I know why people say its really nice to go back and study.
3. Now I know why working on a "Multi-Cultural" (fancy word for an Indian and American trying to work together eventhough they are 10 and a half hours apart) is difficult.

There was something that happened which bothered me a lot. An incident which questioned my integrity. I got really pissed and I never knew I could feel so offended. Why can't people verify things before casting aspersions? Is it so hard to do? People just assume things without basing their opinions on facts. Although I did give the concerned person a lot to think about, I am not too sure if the deed won't be repeated again.

Someone said....
ASSUME- MAKING AN ASS OUT OF YOU AND ME

One Year

2005-10-25T06:45:00.000-04:00

Its been a year since I started blogging. It has been a very positive experience, I was able to make a few new friends and stay in touch with my family and friends.Every blogger at some point in time dedicates a post to why he/she started blogging.If you are reading this post,I must say that you have endured a lot and you are entitled to know the history behind this blog.

I was a regular reader of Sanketh's blog and through his blog I got to read many other interesting ones. Some were phenomenally witty, some were thought provoking and some were just dedicated for ranting. But I felt it was a really nice outlet for a lot of things running through your head. Things that you would like people to know about but are difficult to express in person. So gradually I got afflicted by the "I wanna have one too" syndrome. So what I thought would start and end as a fad became more of a habit. Plus, I had too much time on my hands and blogging was the creative outlet that I needed...it was an exhilirating feeling...it was like..like...finding a toilet when you are in absolute need of one. :D You must realize that its my 57th post and all my creative juices have evaporated, thats the best metaphor I could come up with.

I have been published in print for a grand total of 3 times, so it was really nice to see blogger say that my post has been published everytime I posted something.Even if I had something outrightly stupid to say. I never had the luxury of friends going through whatever I had written in college (mostly crap), so this was a nice way to find out what people thought of whatever I wrote. I partially succeded on this front, the maximum number of comments I have ever got was 16 which was partly because of my delaying tactics in posting the follow up to a story.And at times I even stooped to begging and pleading people to go to my blog.I try to drop subtle hints about leaving a comment.The hints got too subtle that a friend of mine put me on his spam list for sending out too many reminders to drop a comment.

I have some really cool friends who can debate about anything under the sun. Topics range from "Improving India in 60 days"* to " The Venezuelan oil economy"**. Some of these debates could get really passionate and out of control. Anything out of control meant 5 guys busting your ass. Still remember my roomie*** pouncing on me (literally) from one corner of the room to the other when he heard me saying Rajini had everything to become the Chief Minister of Tamilnadu. So this blog was a nice way to have some good spirited debates where I could take some cheap shots**** at a very safe distance away from the participants.

Thanks for reading Guys!

* Arun I hope you are still interested in that topic. It has given us many anecdotes to narrate for a life time.
** JAKS continues to speculate on diverse topics that he noses about. The latest being British parliamentary affairs in the 15th century.
*** Krish has taken a keen interest in Mexican politics and spanish cinema. So he doesn't express his opinions on anything Indian.
**** Karthik, sorry for leaving a comment in your name.But people seemed to believe it.

Paging Mr.Gandhi- Short Story

2005-10-19T01:22:00.000-04:00

Jignesh Gandhi walked out of a New Jersey theatre screening Maine Gandhi Ko Nahin Maara on a chilly October evening. It was the premiere show and Jignesh a self respecting bollywood junkie decided that he had to catch Anumpan Kher in his new incarnation despite having an early morning flight tomorrow. He didn’t know what to make of the movie after he got out of the theatre. He couldn’t term the movie good or bad. It was strange he always had something to say about any movie that he sees. There has never ever been a movie that has escaped his scathing criticisms or rave reviews. But, this one did. Anupam did a fantastic job and so did the other actors but Jignesh couldn’t relate to the movie at all. Jignesh's mother was an Irish American and his father was a Gujarati who immigrated to the US when he was a toddler himself. So, being born and brought up in America didn’t make things easier for him either, he didn’t know much about Gandhi or the values he imparted. So he couldn’t comment much about the movie’s take on the fading public memory of Gandhi and dying Gandhian virtues. Well he didn’t know a lot about a lot of other things that can be called Indian. But the Johars, Barajatyas and Chopras have done more than their share of work in taking care of most of these issues (ranging from Karva Chauth to the great Indian wedding). Apart from the famous Hollywood movie released decades ago and a few articles on TIME commemorating Gandhi, Jignesh’s access to Gandhi or anything remotely Gandhian was limited.

Jignesh was tossing and turning in his bed and was thinking about Gandhi’s importance and relevance in today’s world. Even though the movie was flawlessly executed, the message it tried to convey didn’t make any sense? Does it make sense to follow Gandhi's “hate the sin and love the sinner” philosophy in this day and age. It is illogical to dwell on Gandhian values and extol his principles in a rapidly changing world where victory is what matters and not the means. The winner gets all the attention, and not the person who gets the fair play award. Jignesh didn’t sleep very well but he managed to wake up in time for his early morning flight. The cab came on time. The driver was a middle aged Ethiopian, who loved to talk. Jignesh obliged, it was a 40 minute drive and staring blankly at the trees wasn't fun. The driver talked about rising gas prices, rising college fees and mounting credit card bills. Jignesh thought that it was probably the routine 40 minute speech that the driver usually gave to coax customers to pay a higher tip. And, Jignesh has never been an easy prey for these 'tug at the heart strings'tacticians.

Jignesh arrived at the airport an hour in advance. He gave the driver his customary 8 percent tip and in the process of calculating 8% of $78.5, he forgot his travel pouch which had his travel documents and 1200 dollars in traveler’s checks. He didn’t realize it until he went to the check in counter. He immediately called the cab company and asked them to notify the driver and the cab company gently reminded him that they were not liable in case they were not able to track the cab driver. Jignesh doubted that he would ever get his pouch back, the Ethiopian driver’s narration of his chapter 11 predicament was still fresh in his memory. Jignesh cursed his luck and decided that he will never ever take a cab driven by blacks; each and every one of THEM meant trouble. He heard his name being announced on the PA system just when he was contemplating on going to the police.

“PAGING Mr. Gandhi, PLEASE COME TO THE HELP DESK LOCATED IN THE CONCOURSE C LOBBY”

Jignesh didn’t know what to expect, he hurriedly walked towards the help desk. He found the driver waiting for him with his black leather pouch. Jignesh thanked the driver profusely and tried to compensate his hasty appraisal of the driver’s integrity by taking out a 100 dollar bill from his pocket. The driver pointed to the name Gandhi on the pouch and remarked, “He has done a lot for us and it wouldn’t be right if I took money from you. Have a nice flight sir!”

Benefits of being part of a capitalistic country

2005-10-05T10:26:00.000-04:00

I am a strong proponent of capitalism. I felt that the reason why India is on the slow track to progress is because of the
1. Government regulating all businesses in the country very closely. This leads to needless red tapism which slows down processes.
2. Nationalizing everything under the sun....hotel chains, natural gas, banks, telecommunications, fertilizers....the list is endless. Thankfuly someone came up with the bright idea of privatization.
3. The third reason is a by product of the second reason: Corrupt government babu's wanting a cut out of everything, making people think twice before setting up shop in India.

But such instances now makes me feel otherwise. A calamity of such sort in India would guarantee the centre backing the state completely. Banks wouldn't see the commerical viability of giving loans to the state when they are in such a desperate situation. Probably New Orleans would have been better of if they were a part of India.

2005-10-03T07:48:00.000-04:00

“How does it feel to come/go back home?”

A question that has been on everyone’s lips ever since the day I landed at CIA (Chennai International Airport). Everyone: comprises my friends and family in Chennai, my friends and family in Bahrain and my friends and family in the US. Yeah I guess I need to share the love, affection and concern that people (widely dispersed across different continents) are showering on me with the not so fortunate. Actually just 2 continents, but ‘different continents’ sounds better.

Before I answer this question, I would like to go over the trials and tribulations one faces when he makes the decision of coming back home for good.

It started with the interviews

I had so many telephonic interviews with my employer that I lost count. But every single call ended with a question.

“Kumar, Why India?”

I frankly didn’t know why. I wasn’t home sick and I actually liked the job but no one was ever willing to listen to that. I am patriotic but that was not the reason which prompted me to go back home. I just couldn’t tell my employer that I didn’t have anything worthwhile to do in Raleigh and the thought of having some 20 rupee Masala Dosas didn’t sound bad. Once my hiring manager said “Yes”, I was preparing myself for a battle with my relatives.

Then my relatives.
Tonnes of relatives called in and explained the perils of going back home….quality of life…. standard of living ….zero savings were some phrases that were dropped of quite often. Then they dropped the mother of all ashtras and shastras….the possibilities of me getting married very soon (Very soon in my family is a very loaded word could be even a week).

“ Kumar, Imagine how difficult it would be to take care of the Mrs. Needs with an Indian salary…(this shook me a little…I am 23 and they were already thinking of condemning me to the gallows read marriage)”

Once I got an Okay from my family (yeah, my 11 year old niece took some time to say her Okay but I finally got everyone on board), I thought things would be smooth sailing from here onwards.

Then my travel agent…WHAT?...you saw me right, my agent

I just had to book my air tickets and get myself into the airport. That’s when my ticket agent made me realize that an agent’s job profile is not limited to booking tickets. They are also a big brother kind of figure who makes you realize the enormity of the decision that you are taking. Just sample the conversation I had with my travel agent.

Me: I need one ticket to India.
Agent: Leaving date?
Me: Next week, 22nd Aug.
Agent: When are you coming back?
Me: It’s a one way ticket?
Agent: Is this ticket for someone else, mother….father?
Me: No it’s for me.
Static for the next 10 seconds
Me: Hello…Hello…you there
Agent (recuperating): Why are you taking a one way ticket?
Me (what’s this guy’s problem?): I don’t want to come back.
Agent: Have you thought about this?
Me ( none of your business): Uh..yes
Agent: But why?

It took a phenomenal effort for me to convince my agent.

Me: No, I didn’t escape the Institution of the mentally challenged
Me: Yes I am in control of all of my 5 God given senses.
Me: What do you mean 6?
Me: Oh its 6 for humans, Yeah I am in control.
Me: No no I am not the talking dog they showed on Animal Planet
Me: No, LSD is not my cup of tea.
Me: No I don’t have it with tea. I don’t have it at all.

My agent couldn’t do the vision and breath tests over the phone, so he very half heartedly gave in and booked my tickets.

Family friends can’t be left out…..

Once I set foot in Bahrain, I spent the next couple of days actively PRing my cause and explaining my position to well wishers and family friends. There were a couple of brain storming sessions about the Green card/H1-b situation in the US and the economic growth forecast for US vis a vis India for the next 10 years. There wasn’t enough time for us to reach a conclusion as my brief stop over in Bahrain was just for a week, so I had to pack my bags and leave.

On reaching India, my grand mother left no stone unturned and introduced me to everyone as the grandson who left the US and came back for good over some tea and biscuits with people who visit her. You needed women like my grandmother in these fancy advertising firms,she'd add a whole new dimesnion to advertising...grass roots level advertising.

So now since its been a month since I landed here, I can now devote an entire next post to tell you about the Chennai work culture and how it feels to be back home.

Quarterly Exam Jitters- Edited

2005-09-19T08:03:00.000-04:00

Its been a long time since I have heard the following words

Quarterly Exam - Causes mild palpitation of the heart

Half Yearly Exam- Makes me God fearing and agree in part with my grand mother's philosophy of, "Do your work and leave the rest to God.". If you have been reading this blog, by now, you would know which part of the philosophy that I am most likely follow.

Annual Exam- Causes mild loose motion, severe mental depression and creative thoughts of how to fake sickness and bunk exam (the loose motions sometime aids my case of faking sickness).

I can't believe that my fragile body has endured 12 iterations of these senseless exams, which I can confidently say has in no way made me a better person.I am really sorry dad...all that money...I know its hard...But if its any consolation, I wont make the same mistake. So you can look forward to a generation of Alagappan's who would most probably be smarter than me.

Okay now coming to the point why I remembered these three lovely exams. My cousin sister all of 11 years old, is already knee deep in the Mesapatomian civilization learning about Zigurrats and Hamurabi.I can see her eyes glitter when she reads about cuneiforms and hieroglyphics (yeah right!).I do appreciate the fact that our educational system makes sure that we know a little of everything (I bet Bush's Harvard education wouldn't have helped him in locating Iraq on the world map). But, shouldn't we learn a lot about the things we like, beginning at a very young age.

My cousin is going through her quarterly exam jitters. While she is studying feverishly, her mother has entrusted me to ask her daughter questions at the end of every chapter.Its really feels nice to make a transition to the other side you know, from being asked questions to asking questions. You can discpline the kiddo saying, "You didn't know such a simple thing and reading out from the book".Ah...I got to admit, advantages of being grown up.

Jokes apart,the whole exercise brought in a flood of memories. Some pleasant and some unpleasant (like the day when my dad hid the TV for flunking a test, two whole weeks without Yogi Bear and Tom & Jerry). The contemplative thinker (I can hear DK snigger, "anything thats got to do with thinking and you sounds risky!") that I am, there were a few questions that kept haunting me long after the history lessons.

The Indian Educational system has its pluses. Its content is intensive on Maths and Science during the formative years. This makes every kid think along the lines of being a doctor and an engineer. Couple this to the social stigma of doing something as outlandish as Journalism or English literature, we are guaranteeing a perfect recipe for disaster. An imbalanced society. To be honest, I don't mind the content or the stigma. Even if the entire system is geared towards Math and science, why can't these subjects be taught with relevant practical demonstrations.Education today is not about learning for the joy of learning; discovering something new; producing refined men and women; instilling values, cultural mores & traditions. And, more importantly helping students realize their dreams and ambitions and help them become someone they want to and not someone they are forced to. It is more about the 'bang for the buck'. Sample these conversations that take place in living rooms through out the country.

"Chemical Engineering! You will earn 6000 rs a month. Will that be enough? You should do Computer Science"

"You want to what? Music! Thats it I disown you."

I agree we should be concerned about having 3 meals a day. Most basic necessity which drives men and women to do anything in life. We have progressed light years from the age of "survival of the strongest" to "survival of the smartest". But how are you ever going to be smart when you have a natural aversion to biology. Somehow you succeed in mugging up the text book and score when it matters. You find yourself in a medical college but how smart are you going to be after sitting 5 years on the same chair, day in and day out, dreamily staring at the black board wondering if your life is going to be just as black.(bench thenjadhu dhaan micham...thats what my Physics sir used to say).

Is education in India interactive? I think we can squarely blame the lack of communication skills in our country because kids never have a chance to interact with teachers. I can count the number of times I would have asked questions in my class. Either I didn't understand enough to pose questions or I was extremely confident that the guy sitting next to me would do a better job of explaining than the teacher. Its more of a 'one to many' exercise.One teacher and 40 kids. Abysmally low teacher to student ratio. When the kids are innocent they would listen to whatever the teachers say and copy whatever is written on the board. When they are all grown up they realize the futility of the whole exercise and play pen-game, book cricket, WWF wrestling cards or sleep with their eyes wide awake. Do teachers involve students in any kind of activity that practically validates whatever they are learning from a text book? Does anyone take even an iota of effort to make learning a more enjoyable experience. It has happened once in my whole life. Thanks to Mrs. Kamleshwari, my geography teacher. She thought us about Africa by making us believe that she will be taking us on a field trip in a weeks time.She then asked us to prepare ourselves, take light clothes because Africa is really humid. The small details you know, it made me really want to learn more about the place.Hope she is still around making kids enjoy whatever they study.

All these factors, I think, has robbed the teaching profession of its charm, Whenever my dad recalls his Maths teacher (his name is Raayar Vaadiyar) he always has a smile on his face. Whenever I recall mine (very rarely, mostly its a bad dream caused due to indigestion)I wont remember their names, all I remember is their nick names which I would like to not disclose here, as this blog is certified as a PG-13 blog.We are producing teachers of mediocre standards. Face it, if you are teacher at Annai Mathamal Engineering college then you have taken it as a profession because you weren't able to get a job elsewhere.

We learn because we got to beat the neighbouring kid. Competition is really nice, it drives you to perform better. But the system we have now is unhealthy. Children develop performance anxiety. Parents have perfected the art of expecting their kids to be the next Einstein (I think they attend workshops like "How to be unreasonably over-expectant").

Okay before Karthik makes me realize that it is stupid to generalize. I would like to add a comment, if you really enjoyed/enjoy studying in the Indian educational system, I apologize for not being smart enough for missing out on the delicate intricacies of our educational set up.

Grrrrr...no point. I am happy that my cousin sis has withstood 6 years of it. I have prevailed and so will she.

Initiation

2005-09-15T13:31:00.000-04:00

I think I can now formally call myself a denizen of the consulting world. Two meetings, each lasting an hour and a half, punctuated by a lunch break and numerous coffee breaks to make me stay awake accounted for about half a work day.

The first meeting was with the Vice president of corporate strategy urging analysts to use a CRM software to help the sales team in their quest for closing deals. The VP was a heavy-set/friendly/humorous American who knew more Tamil than Ethiraj college girls. His talk was peppered by references to Rajnikanth (looks like he is a huge fan too), Anniyan, Sathyam Cineplex, Mayajaal and Star Wars. Huge movie freak and I guess now you know how much attention I paid to CRM. Really enjoyed the discussion on movies. I ended up strengthening his already strong Tamil vocabulary. He mentioned that he invariably ended up using dude at the end of every sentence.So I taught him Machaan and Maama. I was severely reprimanded by my Manager in the subsequent meeting (this one was on forecasting web hosted CRM's, talk about coincidences) for teaching him those words. Quite understable, many women would not like to be addressed Machaan and Maama by the VP.

Adidhadi Udhavara Maari Annan Thambinga Udhava Maatanga

2005-09-08T12:01:00.000-04:00

The caption for this post is a popular Tamil saying which translates into...

"A sound thrashing would probably be more useful than having brothers."

The following post is a 54 word short story. Just like my tagger, brevity is not my strong point.Anyway the following story is actually inspired from a true life story. No prizes for guessing whose life.

A non-smoker's story

"Have a cigarette man."

Rahul Chaturvedi turned down the generous offer and ran his palm over his left cheek.

About 16 years back a 4 foot Rahul bent down to pick up a half smoked Marlboro lying on the road. Mr.Chaturvedi slapped Rahul so hard that he fell face down on the platform.

The End

I tag Karthik, Radhika and PS to write a short story in less than 55 words. Good luck!

Good night America/ Good Morning India

2005-09-04T07:40:00.000-04:00

Hello All,
Its been a long absence (9 days to be precise)for me from the blogworld. I was strapped for time during the last 2 weeks and I am still strapped for time.After a lot of thought (don't be surprised, I can think) I have left the shores of America for the shores of Chennai.I made a brief stop over in Bahrain for a week to catch up with my parents. I have just started working in Chennai with a consulting firm.I hope the corporate world is going to be kind to me. Hope I have enough time to continue writing. I actually have ideas for a new story, so please continue to drop by.

Thanks
Kumar

PS: This btw is the 51st post, when I started writing the blog I thought I wouldn't be able to write 10.Surprises galore! I can think and write.

Two Cents of Hope

2005-08-25T02:37:00.000-04:00

If you are reading this blog you are priveleged. Okay, that was not a very nice way of putting it. The accent was on reading, a verb which is still not so common amongst the Indian kids.

I lived in the hostel while I was doing my bachelors degree from Vellore Institute of Technology. The hostel was habitable and the food was bearable. The mess employed kids aged between 10 and 15 years to serve food and clean the mess. The chancellor of the university, an ex-MP/minister, truly believed in educating the youth which was OBVIOUSLY the primary purpose for him to set up the university. 1000 students graduated every year so it didn't matter if there were about 30 uneducated kids slaving in the mess. Inorder to gain some you lose some. One of my friends who thankfuly didn't have the same ideologies as the chancellor took an effort to teach one of the kids basic mathematics and alphabets. The kid really took an effort to learn from my friend amidst the cleaning and serving he had to do to earn a living. It was nice to see the kid smile while learning. I should have probably followed suit but I didn't. If you have gone through something similar and you wished that you should have probably done something more then here is your chance.

A group of graduate students from North Carolina State University (my alma mater)have formed a non profit organization called "Two cents of hope" with the vision of forming a self sustaining society by providing education to the youth. Education in India has no doubt improved in the last few decades. But we still have a long way to go in our quest of being a fully developed and self sufficient nation. Overly qualified readers like you would obviously know the pivotal role of education in today's society. You can make a difference if you want to.Ideas, suggestions and donations are most welcome.

Inheritance

2005-08-19T12:14:00.000-04:00

For the past few days I have been reading news items and blogs (my own too) about events that have happened a long time back and their after effects. These after effects are just not mere scars that reamin from wounds sustained in a war. It's something far more serious. These scars have penetrated so deep into our heart that our mind ceases to think and we lose the capabilty of making informed decisions.Well, the purpose of the post is not to discombobulate (finally I get to use this word, 2 years after my GRE...I think it means 'confuse') you. I perhaps should get to the point right away.

The last post was about how I like history. But HisStory could also be a pain in the butt. Every one has their own versions, made up versions that can suit ideologies and ego's, not minding the repercussions of such tales. The Jews will have a version and the Christians will their own,the Indians will have different things to say about Kashmir than the Pakistani's. These things are just not limited to being at such a broad level, a relative of mine is contesting a court case for some thing that happened eons back ( well if he wins the case, I could be a millionaire's nephew).

I wish inheritance was just limited to getting the good stuff from your ancestors. You know what I am talking about right, the Ravi Verma paintings and the antique chairs. But sadly those aren't the only things that are forced down the family chain. If you have seen a dozen Indian movies from the 70's and 80's you would have come across the concept of family feuds.
"In 1846 your great great grandfather was hit by your great great grand uncle for not sharing his toys. Since then we have been sworn enemies and I don't want you ever to talk with their family ever again. Its a matter of honour." The chances of getting to hear dialogues of such kind in your own house are extremely bright.

Similarly when you see an Indo-Pak cricket match, you will invariably get to hear these words from Shastri
"...emotions are running high in this encounter."
We go out of our way to remember the partition, Kashmir conflict and the wars to be emotionally charged for a sporting event. I got a crash course on why hating Pakistan is important to every Indian from one of my cousins during an Indo-Pak match. Its easy to influence a teenager when Shoaib Akhtar resembles the devil while he is bowling menancingly quick.The Indian batsmen really didn't last long enough for me and my cousin to admire the Indian batting skills. Quite predictably the conversation veered from cricket to politics.

I can understand personal vendetta but avenging for things that have happened centuries ago is stupid.Similarly the atrocities that the Jews have gone through for something their ancestors did a long while back is absolutely stupid.Among the many gifts God has given man, the ability to forget is one of the most important one's. I think we are not using this gift as much as we are supposed to. Forgiving might require a lot of emotional maturity but trying to forget about such sour incidents could probably save a lot of lives.

What prevents one to forget events of the past?
I think it all boils down to pride. I think we are just too proud to step down from the imaginary tower that we create for ourselves. The family honor could go for a toss if I would go up to someone and tell him that his grandfather owed me some money and so I am forced to confiscate his ancestral home.

Its heartening to see people like Ariel Sharon taking the bold step of evacuating the Gaza strip. I do not know if there is a hidden political agenda, it seems genuine. You can read his speech here. RB's post questioned the motive for Sharon doing such a thing? The only thing that I can think of at the moment is that probably political leaders are finally realizing that humanity is something beyond pride and honour. Probably everyone can take a cue and realize that History doesn't have a place for people who do stupid things to insure their political future. And on a more personal level we should let the future generation form their own conclusions about the past. It really doesn't make sense to impose our beliefs on them.

Review: Mangal Pandey- The Rising

2005-08-14T20:59:00.000-04:00

It has been one of the most awaited movies this year. But, after watching the movie the first thing that comes to your mind is whether this movie warranted so much hype. It is a really good movie but does the end product really require 2 years of labour (i.e excluding the other 2 years Aamir took for looking the part, the mooch, the hair etc.). Once you get out of the theatre, you replay a few scenes/parts of the movie in your mind but the overall package somehow doesn’t feel as special as Lagaan. I think a reviewer should never have preconceived notions about a movie- but come on, a movie from Aamir Khan after 4 years…you would definitely feel that this is going to be a mind blowing experience while you keenly munch on the popcorn when the first scene rolls out on the big screen.

Mangal Pandey was not a mind blowing experience but I felt that it is definitely worth watching. When I was in class 8, History was a subject that I loved despite the dull and boring NCERT history text books. I found it very interesting to know how different things were back then. The revolt of 1857 or our first war of independence sounded very silly to me then when I was a 12 year old. Cow and pig fat being used as grease for cartridges didn’t sound rebellion worthy. Moreover, I had a paan chewing history teacher who drenched you with her saliva. You are in her radar even if you are sitting in the third row. So my history classes on the first war of independence with ‘Jayalakshmi Miss’ were very forgettable. So the Revolt remained silly to me until yesterday.

There is a scene in the movie which made me understand why this war was so important to us. Mangal Pandey (Aamir Khan) lies on the hospital bed while Captain William Gordon (Toby Stephens) urges him to apologize to the British East India Company so that he could escape death row. Mangal Pandey smiles at the captain and explains to him that he was not sorry for anything he did and how he feels that his death could stoke the fire of millions in the country. Gordon responds to Pandey by telling him that losing so many lives over an issue that could be settled with reason is simply not worth it. Pandey then tells him that grease wasn’t the issue any more. An upper class Brahmin like him who thought that coming in contact with an untouchable sweeper was a sin felt like an untouchable in his own land. He could chew on those very same cartridges and wipe out the Brits if it could bring him independence. That scene, I felt was soul stirring and aptly summarized the entire revolt, something no one ever did in my high school. But, the problem with MP is that such scenes are very far flung for a film whose theme is patriotism.

The performances in the movie were superlative. Toby Stephens played the part of a person torn apart between two different cultures extremely well. He speaks hindi so much better than some of the people who speak an anglicized variation of hindi nowadays. Aamir Khan breathes fire in every frame of the movie. I thought his voice did not match the intensity of his physical demeanour. The bonding sequences between Aamir and Toby seem to be forced. Rani Mukherjea’s role as a nauch girl was very limited. The character was not given enough importance. It felt like they included the character just to have a romantic angle to the story and shoot a bunch of songs on the lead pair. Talking about songs, I felt all the songs were introduced at very inappropriate moments. Just when the pace is picking up and when you feel completely entrenched in the movie, the cast starts dancing to ARR’s melodies out of the blue. A bunch of jokers sitting on top of an elephant breaking into a song every half an hour was also very irritating. I really didn’t know why the director Ketan Mehta had to incorporate an item number in the movie. It simply jars the movie’s narrative. Amisha Patel has very little to do in this movie. She plays the role of a Sati Maatha- a woman who is about to be burnt alive along with her husband in his funeral pyre. It was shocking to see that the widow’s eyes were glazed as she was high on opium while they make her sit in the funeral pyre. She doesn’t realize what is happening around her until they set fire to the body. That was an interesting detail which finally answered my question of- “Why on earth didn’t women just run away from the pyre?” Capt. William Gordon quite predictably saves her and another love story blooms. Ms. Patel has 4 scenes in this 3 and a half hour saga. I couldn’t identify anyone from the supporting cast but all of them acted decently well.

A.R.Rehman is brilliant. I liked all the songs in the movie. The movie literally transports you to 1857, the costumes and sets in the movie are authentic. I felt the editing was not up to the mark in the movie. The movie didn’t flow very well. It was awesome in parts but collectively didn’t manage to work. The idea of having a Hindi voice over when the characters spoke in English was novel. You get to hear the English dialogues; they don’t mute the English dialogues and start the voice over. Om Puri’s voice was really good and his voice over would have definitely been appreciated by the non-English speakers. I am sure there will be inevitable comparisons with Big B’s voice over in Lagaan.

Overall a good movie. Even though it doesn’t quite match the expectations that I had, it is still worth a watch.

“What is human life but a game of cricket?”

2005-08-13T03:02:00.000-04:00

“What is human life but a game of cricket?”
-The Third Duke of Dorchester

I am a regular player of the Brian Lara International Cricket 2005 computer game (demo version).So before you start playing the game you get to read the above quote from the third duke of Dorchester which was made in the year 1777. I can’t give so much importance to cricket like the Duke. But, I guess people in England would probably empathize with him (finally….after 3 bloody centuries) much more than the fanatic Indian/Australian cricket fan at this point in time. Things are going fabulously well for the English and I guess they are finding it very difficult to come to terms with their newfound Ashes success. Understandable, after all a whole generation of the English haven’t witnessed an English team holding aloft the Ashes urn since 1986-87.

Unlike its colonizer things are not looking very pretty for India. Life/cricket has been a struggle for the Indian cricket team/fan/selectors. An Indian ODI resurgence seems to be just as unlikely as seeing our beloved Prime Minister without a beard. Harsha Bhogle in his Indian Express column very rightfully expressed his concerns with this Indian Team. He feels that this Indian team which is currently ranked number 7 played like a number 7 team and if things continued to proceed in a similar fashion number seven looks like a good place to build a house.

The selectors aren’t helping the team’s cause by continuously playing ping-pong with the captaincy. Their latest decision to appoint Ganguly as the captain for the upcoming Zimbabwe tour baffled me. They should have either asked Ganguly to captain for the entire season or should have persisted with Dravid who I think is a very shrewd and astute man. They both have different leadership styles but they are both capable men who have played a big part in whatever successes that this team has managed to achieve in the past decade. As an Indian I think it’s in our nature to submit to authority. I could have gone to the extreme and used the phrase suck up to authority, but I guess then I would be guilty of stereotyping.

Imagine the plight of newcomers like Suresh Raina who has just completed his first tour. This guy would have to earn his captain’s confidence to stay in the team. So things can be pretty rough when you are told that your captain would be named on a series to series basis. The older ones in the team like Kumble would also be very frustrated. Kumble would have probably got to play a lot more games if Dravid were the captain, because Dravid and Kumble go a long way back. Kumble whose in the twilight of his career cannot afford to vocally support Dravid as Ganguly is still part of the team and could take over the reins from Dravid any time soon (which is exactly what happened).

Constant shift in power is never easy on anyone- the team, the individual who is being relieved and the individual who is taking over. It would be foolish on my part to say that “persist no matter what” approach is the best medicine for an ailing team. But “persisting with the change” can most certainly help the team at this juncture. Change (bringing in Ganguly) is what made this team believe in itself.

A part of me wants Ganguly to continue on till the next world cup. This man is all about passion, pride, self-belief, agression and arrogance. He managed to change the mindset of an Indian cricketer. Sagging shoulders and dropped down heads gave way to pumping fists and the now very famous team huddle. The Indian team was always a docile lot (the occasional Indo-Pak matches are an exception). You could even go to the extent of calling them the well mannered bahu types but things changed dramatically once Ganguly was at the helm. Ganguly lent the team the much needed bad boy image. I guess he was the first Indian captain who managed to convey “Indians mean Business” to the opposing teams. Ganguly provided this team the aggressiveness which it desperately lacked.

But then a part of me wants Dravid to be the captain because this guy has done whatever he possibly can to help the team. His team first attitude is something which is not very common in contemporary cricket. He will even bat at number 11 if it is going to help the team. He is a guy who leads his team by example. Solid, dependable and ice cool irrespective of the situation he is faced with. This guy hasn’t done a thing wrong. He has stood up to the challenges of captaincy admirably. It’s never easy to know that you are leadership skills are going to be assessed in one off test matches because of an injury/ban prone Ganguly.

So, I guess I am defeating my own “persisting with the change” approach by describing how I think both of them are suited for the job. Before blaming the selectors I would have to accept the difficulties that they are faced with. I associate Ganguly with Lord Krishna, because this man is vivacious, lucky and has so far had things handed out on a platter compared to what Dravid a.k.a Lord Rama has gone through. The heart sides with Ganguly but the mind sides with Dravid.

Bottomline: Just like how I began this post with a quote I would like to end this post with a quote...

"The heart has its reasons which reasons know nothing of."

The Curse of the Red Dot*

2005-08-09T01:27:00.000-04:00

KumKum a.k.a Kungumam a.k.a Theeka a.k.a Tilak

Kumkum: If you don’t know what this word means please go to the following
link before reading this post.

Ok, yours truly is a devout Hindu. So as soon as I take a bath, I
dutifully recite my shlokas (holy verses) and apply kungumam to my fore
head. If my mom gets to read this…she will say chamathu (which in English
roughly translates to ‘Good Boy’). It wasn’t that big a deal in India,
even though I was one among the very few guys in college who sported the
sacred red dot.

But once I landed in North Carolina, I started facing difficulties. People
thought I had some kind of a cut on my forehead. A guy on the bus even
went to the extent of saying that if the cut was towards the side instead
of being dead center it could have looked like the one Harry Potter had.
Well I really couldn’t blame him; the mark turned out like a diagonal N
that day. I decided to enlighten the guy about our customs and traditions.
So the poor guy had to endure a 20 minute discourse on the significance of
the DOT. Just as I was getting to how Hindus related kungumam to the
mystic third eye, I saw my listener hurriedly pulling the chain of the bus
and get down. His parting words were…..
”Dude, the next stop is the health center. You should seriously get your
third eye treated bro. It’s not normal you know.”

20 minutes wasted. Damn! So after that day, I never went into the details.
I came here to study not scare people with my 3rd eye, so I usually told
people that I had to wear it because of religious reasons. Normally,
people never bothered me after I gave them that explanation. But, my boss
is this inquisitive woman. She wasn’t satisfied with my explanation and
she began to bombard me with questions.

Boss: Coooohmaar (the number of o’s are directly proportional to how
excited she was), I only see Indian women wear the bindi. You are the
first guy I have ever seen wearing the bindi.

Me (wincing whenever she used the word bindi): Uh, Boss you are right.
Women wear the bindi, it comes in a lot of shapes and patterns. But what
I…uh…er.. what MEN wear is called a theeka.

Boss: I guess bindi and thee..thee..thee (looking at me to complete it for
her)

Me: Theeka

Boss: Yeah aren’t they the same. But why are you the only Indian guy
wearing it?

I needed a paycheck every month so I really didn’t want to voice my
frustrations about how westerners thought that they knew everything there
is to know about India by watching one Bollywood movie (which in my boss’s
case was Lagaan).But, at the same time I wanted to let her know that I am
not the only weird Indian guy with the dot.

Me: Boss, don’t you remember the Hero had theeka on his forehead in the
movie.

Boss: Oh yeah. Now I remember Coooooohmaaar. But the one he wears is
vertical and not horizontal like the one you have.

I gave up and didn’t want to prolong the conversation any more. So I
emailed her a link which talked about the heritage behind the kungumam and
how it could be applied to the forehead by BOTH men and women.

During my second year at NC State I became wiser (yeah, I finally got to
know Ohm’s law) and rarely ventured out sporting the dot. I really didn’t
have the patience to explain about our culture and heritage every time
some stranger in the middle of the road spotted the dot. So I thought it
was better to rub it off before I got out of the house. But on Deepavali
(an Indian festival) my religious sentiments got the better of me. I
didn’t want God to wreak havoc (the semester was already looking bleak)
for my not wearing kungumam on such a holy day. On that particular day,
Susan, one of my American friends picked me up at my house. She and I were
working on a project that was due in a week. So in the car she quizzed me
about the red dot. For obvious reasons I wanted the topic to end as
quickly as possible and I knew it all hinged on my answer. So, I told her
that I usually wore the dot as soon as I took a bath. She didn’t ask me
any further questions and I was relieved. I was so happy that I
entertained hopes of using this as my default explanation if the topic was
ever breached again (only to be quashed the very next week).

The following week I applied kungumam on my forehead and made a conscious
decision to not rub it off as I stepped out of my house (how could I even
think of rubbing it off when I had my project presentation in an hour.
Lord is divine. Lord have mercy!) . I entered the class and sat next to
Susan. I was mentally going over the presentation slides and making note
of the places where I had to crack jokes to keep the audience awake. I
didn’t notice Peg and Elaine (two of my class mates who sat one row ahead
of me) staring at my forehead. Only when they started having an argument
did I realize that my red dot was the cause for it.

Peg: No he is not married.

Elaine: Peg, I have an Indian friend who told me that only married people
get to wear the red thing.

Peg: But, he didn’t wear it for the whole of last month.

Elaine: Maybe he got married yesterday.

I was furious. Enough was enough. Some body had to teach these people
about our traditions and values. I seriously didn’t care even if it
required me to take them through the mystic third eye. Just as I was about
to interrupt them I heard Susan’s sagely voice.

Susan: Girls, relax. Kumar took a bath today.

As Susan enlightened them about how the red mark signified that I was
clean, I was regretting my idiotic explanation to Susan the previous week.

I have truly become wise now. I never repeated that mistake. Whenever
someone has questions about the red dot, I take down their email address
and ask them to check their email inbox for an explanation.

*The author has exaggerated parts of the story to make it seem a little
funnier than how the events originally transpired. But, the crux of the
story, sadly (for me), is true.

Quidditch:Cricket :: Bush:Brains

2005-08-05T09:41:00.000-04:00

Don't worry I am not going to go through analogies and coach you for your competetive exams. There is this journalist from The Toledo Blade who thinks Quidditch is a cricket type game.

Here is her description of Quidditch.
***QUIDDITCH: A wizard game, played on flying broomsticks. Quidditch is a wildly exciting, cricket-type game that is an obsession with many in the wizarding world, including Harry and Ron.
***the link: http://toledoblade.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20050710/ART02/507090306/0/ART09

If you are ever in a position where you are desperately trying to convince a Toledan (I assume people from Toledo would like to be called Toledan's) that you don't play cricket with broom sticks, you know whom to blame. I think the Toledans might even feel a little let down if they ever get to see a 5 day cricket match (Imagine if they call this a wildly exciting game then what would be termed as boring).

First Date....(part 4)

2005-07-31T05:47:00.000-04:00

Arun felt a little weird, he had never given rides to women before. He knew of friends who would make it a point to drive their bikes through all the pot holes and bumps on the road when they had hapless and well endowed girls for passengers. Arun always wondered if the road contractors specifically designed such roads keeping his friends in mind. But, Arun decided that he was going to be as gentlemanly as possible. He tried his best to avoid the bumps and the potholes but he couldn’t help the speed breakers. Arun felt that he was making a statement here- “Priya, I am not like those fools. I know how to treat a woman.” Priya on the other hand didn’t have time to think about the subtle statements Arun was trying to make through his driving skills. She knew that her bag contained probably the two thickest books she had ever read in life, so she was reasonably confident that it would take care of all eventualities (pot holes/bumps/speed breakers). Secondly, she was thinking about the movie. Priya was trying to piece the story together from the promos and songs she saw on television. She usually was very good at it, but she always knew that figuring out an Indian Film didn’t require the IQ levels of Dr. Einstein.
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While Arun Krishnamurthy was concentrating on the road, Krishnamurthy Sr. decided to open the lone unopened letter lying on the table. The letter was mailed 15 days back, which meant that it was lying in Ambujam maami’s house for at least a week. It was from Karan Johar and Mr. Krishnamurthy immediately realized what was going to be in the cover. During Dr. Krishnamurthy’s last year as the principal of NIT he was invited to chair an IEEE International Conference on Intelligent Systems at the University College of London. He traveled by British Airways and happened to have Mr. Johar sitting next to him. Mr. Krishnamurthy was a big movie buff but he stopped watching movies as he felt that today’s cinema had nothing intelligent to offer. Dr. Krishnamurthy didn’t have the time for crass commercial potboilers that has a one man fighting-machine for a hero and a svelte heroine who will break into a wet dance baring her midriff at the drop of a hat. So he didn’t know about Karan and the movies he made until a couple of co-passengers walked to Mr. Johar and chatted with him about his next movie. Arun’s dad didn’t exactly remember how they started talking with each other but he remembered that it was the first time in a long while that he had talked about cinema to anyone.

They had a very interesting conversation on Indian Cinema and Karan was absolutely amazed with Dr. Krishnamurthy’s photographic memory of how things were in the 60’s and 70’s. Gradually, Dr. Krishnamurthy told him that he felt that today’s cinema is very low on substance because film makers traded their movies solely on sex and violence. It was familiar turf for Dr. Krishnamurthy, all he needed was an active listener and Karan didn’t mind doing most of the listening in their dialogue.. Karan was very keen to get an idea of what Dr. Krishnamurthy wanted as a moviegoer. Towards the end of the journey Karan told him about a movie that he was producing that was slated to be released the next year. He also took down Dr. Krishnamurthy’s address and told him that he would send him the tickets for it. He wanted him to watch the movie and let him know what he felt about it.

Arun’s dad thought that Karan would forget about it. So, seeing Karan’s name on the letter brought a faint smile to his lips. On opening the cover he found a neatly written letter from Karan with his address on it. There were also 4 tickets for today’s matinee show of Kal Ho Na Ho at Satyam along with the letter. Karan humbly requested him to watch the movie and write what he felt about it to the address mentioned in the letter. Arun’s dad looked at the grandfather clock on the wall and it showed 2:45. He had 30 more minutes.
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Arun and Priya on reaching the theatre were greeted by a red houseful sign. There were a lot of people hovering around the ticket counter looking at the advance booking chart. Priya pitied all those souls without a ticket. Arun didn’t want pity now all he wanted was the familiar sounds of black ticket peddlers shouting “50 for 100… 50 for 100!” Arun became frantic with every passing minute. He couldn’t see anyone selling tickets.

Priya: “Thanks Arun. I am sure I wouldn’t have got tickets today.”

Arun (looking at his watch, he only had 15 minutes): “Priya, no need to be so formal. We are after all neighbours”

Arun decided that it would be of no use for him to stand here and look for tickets. He had to move around the place and scout for tickets.

Arun: “Priya, I need to use the restroom. I will be back in 5 minutes”

Priya: “Oh sure.”

Arun knew that the parking lot would be the best bet to look for black tickets. But there was a slight problem, as Arun wasn’t familiar with the vernacular he forgot the name of the movie. Just as he was thinking of finding a way to get over this latest problem Arun found THE man he was looking for. He looked drunk and shabby but this wasn’t the time or place to be worried about appearances. Arun thanked his stars as he hurriedly made his way to the ticket seller. Strangely there weren’t people hovering around the guy with hundred rupee notes. He was just sitting on the platform by himself with a bunch of tickets in his hands. Arun thought that maybe the guy was charging an exorbitant amount and people weren’t coming forward to buy the tickets.

Arun: “Sir, do you have tickets for the Hindi Movie?”

The guy was excited on hearing the word sir. It was the first time in his 6 years at Satyam that someone called him sir. And, in these six years he knew that these were the kind of guys who could be easily taken for a ride.

Black Ticket Guy (offering his hand): “Glad to meet you sir, my name is Munisamy.”

Arun was surprised as he had never ever seen ticket peddlers to be so courteous enough to shake hands. Probably this one was an MBA drop out. Arun shook hands with Munisamy.

Arun: “Sir, do you have tickets for the Hindi movie?”

Munisamy: “Which one sir?, there are two Hindi movies running here.”

Arun (thinking hard, trying to recall the movie’s name): “Uh…the latest release…”

Munisamy by now was calculating how much money he could milk out of Arun. Hmm maybe 300…. (closely looking at Arun still thinking of the movie’s name)…definitely 400.

Arun: “Can you tell me the names of the two movies?”

Munisamy: “Jansheen and Kal Ho Na Ho sir”

Arun: “Uh which one is going well?”

Munisamy had never ever seen someone come to him without knowing the name of the movie. Munisamy was now thinking of 500.

Munisamy (without batting an eyelid): “Jaansheen sir. Super duper hit. Biggest movie this year”

Arun (wondering whether the movie Priya mentioned had this English Name): “Do you have 2 tickets for er… John Sheen?”

Munisamy: “You are lucky sir. I have only 2 more tickets left.”

Arun felt relieved on hearing that. He looked at his watch; it’s been 10 minutes since he left Priya.
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Priya was waiting at the ticket counter for Arun while everyone was making their way into the theatre. Priya didn’t know why Arun took so long for taking a leak. She then reminded herself that it was wrong to assume that people used rest rooms only for leaks. Maybe he must be having troubles with his tummy, poor thing.

Five minutes later, Priya didn’t feel sorry for Arun any more. The movie will be starting in less than a minute and the blasted fool was still in the toilet. She was going to miss the first scene of the movie because of some guy who didn’t have the foresight to use the toilet before coming to the theatre. Just as Priya was cursing Arun to her hearts content
She saw Arun’s mother, stepping out of an auto and there was another man who looked like Arun’s replica but with a lot less hair get out of the auto. Priya didn’t know what to do. Did Arun know that his parents were coming to the theatre? Were they going to the same movie? And the most important question of all, did they know that Arun was along with her here? She kind of felt that the answer to the last question was ‘NO’ because she still remembered the look on Arun’s face when she asked him if it was okay for her to come to his house before going to the movie.

Arun’s mom had a very excited look on her face and on seeing Priya she looked even more excited.

Arun’s Mom: “Yai Priya, What are you doing here? Pa this is Priya, Ambujam’s niece.”

Before Priya could answer

Arun’s Dad (an irritated look on his face): “Sharadha, do you always have to ask such obvious questions. Will she come here to launch a rocket?”

Priya couldn’t stop giggling.

Arun’s Mom: “Priya, you know he is always like this. This is third time he is taking me to a movie in our 30 years of marriage. What is the movie’s name pa?”

Arun’s Dad: “Kal Ho Na Ho, we don’t have enough time Sharadha it must have started already.”

Arun’s Mom:”Priya we have more extra tickets, you can join us if you want to.”

Priya was in a big quandary, and she didn’t know whether to go along with Arun’s parents or wait for Arun.
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Arun was happy that everything worked out well. He had the tickets and Priya was going to sit next to him for 3 hours sharing the popcorn. Arun corrected himself; popcorn was something that he couldn’t afford after coughing up 500 bucks for the tickets. Just as he was walking towards the ticket counter he saw two familiar figures get out of an auto near the gate. Arun could see Priya near the counter looking at his parents. Arun hid behind the pillar and tried calling Priya but she didn’t notice his presence. He hoped his parents would just walk past Priya but to his horror that didn’t happen. His parents were having an animated discussion and Priya was a silent spectator. Arun tried to attract Priya’s attention by clapping his hands and this time she saw or rather heard him, he was near the pillar behind Mr. and Mrs. Krishnamurthy. Arun wasn’t very good at sign language but he has had his fair share of sign language news on Doordarshan so he tried his best to tell Priya to wait for him till his parents went into the movie hall. Priya thought he was motioning her to go along with his parents while he waits here. She still couldn’t understand why he wanted to wait here while she and his parents were in the theatre. Anyway Priya was frustrated with all the waiting. She just wanted to watch the movie.

Priya: “Yes Aunty. Thanks for asking. I was waiting for a friend and she bailed out on me in the last minute.”

Arun’s heart skipped a beat when he looked at his Parents and Priya walk into the theater together. He felt like tearing his hair out. He spent 500 rupees on a stupid hindi movie for a stupid girl who had the audacity to dump him even before the date.
Arun didn’t want the tickets to go waste so he tried to sell the tickets back if not for 500 bucks at least 350 bucks. So there were a couple of men standing near the houseful board. Arun thought that these guys were probably still looking for tickets. So he went towards them and told them that he still had two tickets remaining and he could sell them each for 250 bucks. The guys looked at Arun like a saviour and asked him to show the tickets first. Arun obliged and on seeing Fardeen Khan’s face on the ticket with Jansheen printed in bright red ink the guys lost their temper. Arun didn’t know what made them lose their temper but he was pretty much sure that they were using the choicest Hindi expletives to demean him. Then one of the guys told him that if he wanted tickets to Jansheen he could get it from the counter for the actual rate.

Arun felt like a complete idiot. Now it made sense, Munisamy not being hounded with people, Munisamy having a bunch of unsold tickets in his hand. Damn! Arun didn’t have the heart to waste his hard earned money. So he decided to get into the theatre at least for the air conditioner. On entering the theatre Arun could count 8 or 9 other people along with him. There was a note displayed on the screen saying that the Air conditioner unit was having some problems so they would be switching on the fans instead. Arun couldn’t care less after that point. He sat in the hall for three hours and watched the movie even though he didn’t understand a word.

He came back home before his parents and Priya. The house was locked and so he was sitting near the gate waiting for them to come back. After waiting for about 30 minutes his parents and Priya got down from the auto. They all looked very happy and were discussing about how good the movie was. Arun couldn’t believe that even his mom seemed to have understood and liked the movie without knowing Hindi. He was dying to ask his mom about what made them to go to a place that screened Hindi movies all of the sudden. Arun’s parents bid Priya goodbye and walked past Arun to unlock the door.

Arun’s dad: “Dai, you could have cleaned the water tank instead of waiting for us right.”

Arun(fuming): “Is the darned water tank the most important thing in his world?”

Arun’s dad (staring at Arun) : “Sharadha, I want your son to be on his best behavior tomorrow.”

Arun: “ Whats so special tomorrow ma. Are we having the Indian Chief of Army Staff for dinner?”

Arun’s mom: “ What ? We are going to Chaari Maama’s house for dinner not Army maama.”

Arun’s dad: “Dai Arun lock the gate before coming into the house”

Arun: “My name is K. Arun not Dai Arun ma !”

Arun’s mom: “Kanna go and lock the gate da raja.”

Arun’s dad: “Oh sir will go and lock the door only if he is called kanna and raja. Sharadha he is 25 not a 5 year old.”

His mom always had her way of getting things done. Arun was tired and didn’t want to prolong his proxy war with his dad. There was no point in blaming him for the debacle. He just wanted his Seagram’s. The only thing that could give him solace without making him think much. Arun walked to the gate to lock it lest his dad launched his verbal fusillade. Priya stood near her gate waiting for him.

Arun’s heart skipped a beat for the second time in the day. Arun started to entertain hopes of a second innings. Maybe she really did like him or why would she wait for him.

Priya: “Arun, you should have told me that your dad and Karan Johar are really good friends.”

Arun(absently): “Who is Karan Johar?”

Priya(shocked): “What? I thought Kuch Kuch Hota Hai was your favourite movie”

Arun: “Oh oh that Karan. Yeah I really didn’t know my dad and him were friends. Pretty cool eh?”

Priya: “Anyway I just wanted to say all the best for tomorrow. Hope she is the one.”

Arun (clueless): “Who is she? Why should she be the one?”

Priya: “Come on Arun. Don’t tell me you forgot that you are meeting Mr. Chaari’s daughter Kokila Vaani Kujlambal in Mylapore tomorrow evening. Your dad and mom are pretty excited. Your mom even mentioned that she could sing really well?”

Arun felt like he was hit in the head with a sledge hammer. Why did someone always to have spell things for him?

…come home by 6:30…chaari maama….best behavior tomorrow….and finally the death knell what a name Kokila Vaani Kujlambal….

Arun slammed his gate shut and broke into a run to the nearest wine shop. Thats it!!! He needed his Seagram’s now! Priya stood there gaping at a sprinting Arun. She had never ever seen someone run away from her like that.

CONCLUDED

PS: Extremely sorry for not posting the final part on friday as I promised earlier. Thanks for patiently waiting and reading it. Hope you enjoyed it. And, thanks, Karthik, for the suggestions.

first date....(part 3)

2005-07-17T22:18:00.000-04:00

Arun handed over the phone to his dad and walked into the house. Arun didn't know who Paramasivam was and the name, just like Karan Johar didn't mean anything to him. But, Karan Johar at least helped him get his first date in 25 years. Arun at the very moment felt like a Casanova. Well this was the closest he has ever got to a girl if he discounted all filial relations (mom, grand mom, cousins) and Ashok. Well Ashok acted as his love interest in their second standard school play because none of the girls in the class came forward to act opposite Arun. It wasn't because Arun looked too bad. For a 7 year old he looked pretty okay, a few missing teeth but except for Nivedita all the other girls in class had a few missing as well. The real reason for his unpopularity was Ashok. He scared all the girls in class by saying how Arun had set fire to Sabapathy's tail. No one believed Ashok the first time but Ashok took it as a personal challenge and brought Sabapathy to school the next day to prove that Arun was a major threat to Kendriya Vidyalaya 2nd standard B section. Frankly, Arun didn't know what it was with girls and stuffed animals (dogs/bears/cats/orangutans), even if he had killed a real one they wouldn't have felt so bad. Ashok realized his folly and had a change of heart. He volunteered to play 'Seetha' to make it up to Arun. But what he didn't realize was that made Arun even more mad. Jumping into the well was better than Ashok playing Seetha.

Arun still got nightmares of that play but a little whiskey made him forget the bitter past. But, things now were going unbelievably good for him and what mattered most was the present.If there was ever a mirror in the world that could reflect how happy people felt, Arun could be staring into an unopened bottle of Seagram’s single malt. Arun now felt that Priya could probably make him feel more happier than Seagrams, the very thought of a girl replacing his favourite drink could have been blasphemous to Arun 2 weeks back. But, such was the power women exercised over men.

Just as Arun was about to enter the bathroom he heard his dad call out for him. It must be the water tank Arun thought to himself. It was 1:00 and Arun had just about enough time to shower and eat lunch. Cleaning the tank was something that Casanova Arun could not accommodate in his schedule at this point in time. But, Arun just like any other average Indian wouldn't dare say that so bluntly to his father's face. So Arun picked up his phone on the way to the terrace and set an alarm so that it would ring in 2 minutes. On reaching the terrace, Arun found his dad waiting with a towel tied around his head. His dad had 2 packets of chlorine, 2 torchlights and 2 scrubbers laid down on the floor

Dad: "Dai Arun will you come back from your office by 6:30 tomorrow evening?"
Arun: "Yes pa, that’s what I thought too. We should clean the tank tomorrow evening. It would be a lot cooler."
Dad (glaring): "Dai, we are cleaning it today. I want you to come by 6:30 tomorrow because I want you to meet someone
Arun: "Who pa?"
Dad (Arun's phone ringing): "Broker Paramasivam wanted us to meet Mr. Chaari's family in Myl.."

Arun's dad halted midway as Arun after struggling for a few seconds finally managed to pick the phone out of his pants

Arun:"Yes Sir, Ok Sir."
Arun:"No problem sir."
Arun:"I will be there in an hour sir."

Arun hung up the phone hoping that his dad didn't find out that he was faking the call. Arun summoned all the acting skills that was imparted to him in second standard to pull that stunt off.
Dad: "Dei, who was that on the phone."
Arun:" My Boss pa. He wants me to help him out in the office something urgent came up."
Dad (in an astonished tone):" Your boss wants YOU to come to the office to take care of something important on a Sunday afternoon."
Arun(sweating):" Yes pa, do you want me to call him up and tell him that I will be there an hour later after I am finished with the tank."
Dad: "We can clean it later. Work is more important and besides that to have your boss dependent on you at such an early stage in your career augurs well for your future."

Arun felt relieved and a little guilty. This was the closest he had ever got to a compliment from his dad in the recent past. But, the fact that he got it for something that he fabricated robbed it of its charm.Moreover, his micromanaging boss wouldn't trust Arun to switch on his computer by himself. Anyway considering the current circumstances, living with some guilt seemed far more attractive than scrubbing concrete.

Arun(making his way to the stairs): Ok pa. I need to be there in an hour.
Dad: "Dei Arun what about tomorrow?"
Arun: "Yeah tomorrow, what about tomorrow? (suddenly realizing) Oh tomorrow 6:30 dhaane, sure pa."

Arun's father was feeling very happy even though he didn't show it. He hoped that Mr. Chaari's daughter was a perfect match for Arun. Arun was feeling just as happy, or perhaps even a tad happier than his dad but for entirely different reasons. Arun had a quick shower and was searching for the perfect deo/cologne/perfume to spray. It was a pretty important decision because according to the most recent issue of Debonair some French researchers have found out that women usually tend to like men who smelt nice. So the easiest way of getting to a woman's heart is through her olfactory and Arun was going to trust Axe for this momentous occasion.

Just as Arun was walking out of his room to the dining table with the deo in hand, the Axe commercial was playing on Sun TV. It was the commercial where a dozen women swoon over the Axescented Man. Arun's parents had a very disgusted look on their faces on seeing the ad. The digusted look soon gave way to a disapproving look on seeing Arun with a very similar can in hand.

Mom: "Arun kanna, is that the same spray they were showing on TV?"
Arun(desperately trying to hide the black spray can): "Uh..yes Ma, its Axe but its not the one they showed on TV. This is Axe Tsunami and the one they showed on screen was Axe Phoenix."
Dad (glaring): "They also showed that it’s available in Voodoo and Tsunami. I am pretty sure that they will retain the same ad director Arun. I don't think they will rope in Bharathiraja to give an earthy feel to Axe, now would they?"

Arun was wondering how Bharathiraaja would make an Axe commercial for a minute. The very thought cracked him up.

Mom(to Arun’s father): “What kind of names do these people keep sunami..peenix ? Mysore sandal soap and Nycil powder (looking in Arun’s direction) seemed to work well till last year.”
Arun: "The Chennai heat no ma..."

Arun's dad interjected him before he could complete his sentence.
Dad: "Your boss must be mighty pleased. Wish my students had the basic decency to brush their teeth before entering their class rooms."

Arun couldn't really tell whether this was one of his dad's veiled witticism's. One thing was sure; his dad now was beginning to have doubts about him going to the office. He had just enough time for lunch and he really didn't want to worry about his dad when he should be thinking about wooing Priya.

Ambujam Aunty had a very relaxed Sunday morning. She practically kept track of the time through the different programmes running on TV. Priya didn't want to attract undue attention to the fact that she was going out for a movie with the boy next door. So she just told Ambujam aunty that she was going to Kal Ho Na Ho with a friend. Priya never liked to lie she was just merely letting Ambujam aunty to reach her own conclusion. Thankfully a very young and charming Kamal hassan helped Priya’s cause by distracting aunty from questioning any more about the friend. Priya told her aunt that she would be back by 7:00 as soon as the movie gets over.

Arun reached the Kwality ice cream shoppe 10 minutes earlier than the scheduled time. Arun was standing outside the shop but decided to walk in on seeing that the shop was Air-conditioned. Arun entered the shop and sat on a chair waiting for Priya. The shopkeeper walked towards him and asked for his order. Arun let the Shopkeeper know that he didn’t like ice creams and was waiting for a friend who might possibly order an ice cream. The shopkeeper looked at Arun and then the door, very clearly expressing his displeasure. Arun chose to ignore the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper didn’t want to create a big scene but he still wanted to get the better of Arun so he switched off the air conditioner. Priya walked into the complex and was waiting near Arun’s bike in the car park before Arun could think of his next action in the cold war that was developing between him and the shopkeeper. Arun saw her through the window and walked out of the shop hurriedly. Priya looked lovely in a blue chudidhar and it even matched the blue shirt that he was wearing. Arun somehow had a gut feeling that said that she was the one, even the colours they thought of matched.

Arun: “Hi.”
Priya:” Hi, did I interrupt you? You could have the ice cream we still have an hour.”
Arun (turning back to look at the shopkeeper): ”Nah, we can have it at the theatre. The ice creams there are way better than the ones you get here.”
Priya:”Oh okay. So lets leave then.”
Arun started his bike and was waiting for Priya to get on the bike. Priya put a book bag in between the backseat and Arun before sitting on the bike. Priya held tightly on to the steel bar behind her seat for support. Arun didn’t even notice the bag until she sat down. Arun realized that women were very careful unlike men and never let anything to chance. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had some chilly powder in her bag. A slight disappointment but nonetheless a back seat with Priya and her bag was better than an empty back seat.

Note: Guys, I don't know why this is spanning out like the Mahabharath, I hope I can finish it by next week. Really should commend Rowling for managing to write so much and so well.

The first date....(part 2)

2005-07-09T16:30:00.000-04:00

Arun's father now slowly began to piece together his son's maniacal drive for cleaning his bike with the balcony door. He turned back expecting his son to be shamelessly ogling at the girl but by then Arun went into the house to escape his father's attention. Cleaning the water tank was not the foremost thing on his mind right now, his grey cells were now working overtime to recollect marriage broker Paramasivam's number. The first thing that he was going to do on getting back from the tea stall was to call Paramasivam and the next thing on his agenda was to clean the darned water tank.

Arun resurfaced out of his house as soon as he saw his dad turn the corner of the street to the tea stall. If not for his mom, all his hardwork over the last weekend would have gone waste. Arun had to admit that his mom making horrible tea had its own advantages. Arun's father was used to having really good tea at the college canteen for the last 30 years. His first post retirement day started off on a very bitter note with a cup of his wife's steaming concoction and she even came up with a fancy name for it- "Tea". Ever since that day Arun's father didn't mind walking to the tea stall in the adjacent street for his morning cuppa.

Arun resumed his weekend chore of ocassionally cleaning the bike while stealing glances at Priya who looked absolutely ravishing in a spotlessly white chudidhar. Arun was now wondering how he was going to make his first move. Would it be wise for him to call out her name and wave a hi? What if Ambujam aunty decides to waltz in while he was chatting with her? Just as Arun was working out the different permutations and combination of how the scene might unfold, Priya opened the gate with a letter in hand and was walking towards him. Arun was now shamelessly ogling at her. Priya flashed her trademark Julia Roberts smile and Arun somehow managed to mutter a hi.

Priya: "Hi(with the smile still intact), The postman dropped this in our house, but Ambujam maami told me that this person...uhhh (looking at the label on the envelope) Mr.Krishnamurthy lives in your house."

Arun: "Oh yeah, thats my dad. Thanks for dropping it by."

Priya: "No problem. Interestingly, the from address has Karan Johar written on it."

As Arun didn't know a word of Hindi, the name Amitabh Bachhan didn't mean much to him and so quite understandably Karan Johar just drew a blank look from his face.

Priya: "You don't know Karan Johar, the director, the guy who made Kuch Kuchh hota hai?"

Arun: "Oh...Oh that Karan..yeah ofcourse I know him. That's like my all time favourite movie."

Priya: "Yours too (the smile was getting wider and wider)"

By now Arun wouldn't even mind saying that Karan Johar was his third cousin if it could make her smile.

Priya: " It couldn't be the same Karan could it? "

Now this was tricky and Arun didn't want to complicate things by lying again. He now had to google Karan Johar to find out who the guy was and rent the Kuch Kuch Hota Hai DVD (with English Subtitles). The last Hindi movie he saw was Kamasuthra and that too because they didn't release the tamil dubbed version on DVD. And, the movie before that was probably Aasthaa.

Arun: " Uh...no I dont think so. Do you know the Tamilnadu Under 15 softball team captain is also Arun Krishnamurthy? We Indians have a small pool of names to choose from I guess."

Shit, now why did he have to screw things up by talking about the softball team captain and that too under 15. He somehow had to regain lost ground. All he needed was an opportunity.

Priya (a little perplexed): "Oh is the kid that famous?"

Arun: "Uh not really. Its just that..uh.uh...." (Arun couldn't think of anything to say and Priya constantly looking at her watch was not helping him one bit)

Priya: "I better get going, I have been trying to get tickets to Kal Ho Na Ho for the whole of last week, let me try my luck today. Probably I should just buy it in black."

Ah, Arun could see a glimmer of hope here.

Arun: " Oh what a coincidence, I happen to have two tickets for the matinee at the Satyam complex and my friend bailed out on me in the last minute. You could come if you want to."

Arun, just took a chance with Satyam. Mostly all the Hindi movies run there. Arun was desperately hoping she would say yes. But if she did he would have to shell out atleast 300 bucks to get decent tickets in black.

Priya (this smile was so wide that could even make the National Highways blush) : "Oh I would love to. Thank you so much. I will be in Satyam at 2:30pm. Is that okay?"

Arun was thanking the heavens once he heard that but he was not quite finished yet.

Arun: " I could give you a ride to Satyam, we are after all neighbours."

Ashok (Ambujam Aunty's son) would have burnt him alive if he'd heard that. Arun made Ashok cough up 35 bucks for petrol last week when they went to Mahabalipuram. He still remembered himself saying "Machaan, petrol is petrol is petrol. I don't even give my mom free rides" to Ashok.

Priya: " Oh that would be super. So I will come to your place at 2:20."

Arun could see his dad with the paper in hand at the corner of the street. He had to get into the house as soon as possible.

Arun: "Uh...my house...no..no"

Priya: "Ok then you can come to my house."

His dad was anyday better than Ambujam aunty. He could imagine Ambujam aunty giving a brief character sketch to Priya once she comes back from the theatre or even worse before they start for the movie.

Arun: "How about meeting at the Kwality ice cream store behind your house at 2:20. I have some work in Harrington road so I could just pick you up on the way."

Priya: "Kwality 2:20 sounds good. Thanks once again"

Arun cannot afford to wasteone more minute. He knew his dads eye sight has been failing offlate but 75 feet is still a big risk.

Arun: " No problem. We are after all neighbours."

Priya:"See you."

Just as Priya went into her house his father was 25 feet away from him still face stuck to the paper. Phew that was close.

Arun's dad folded the paper neatly and put it on Arun's bike.

Dad (looking at the letter in Arun's hand):"Hmm...did the postman again drop off the letter at the opposite house."

Arun (nervously): "Yes Pa. I think he is new and still not used to the house numbers."

Dad: "Hmm yeah. So did she just give this one letter?"

Arun (sweating): "Who pa? Ambujam aunty...."

Dad: "And since when has Ambujam aunty started wearing White chudidhars?"

Mr. Krishnamurthy was just letting him know that he might be old but he still hasn't lost his touch. Arun had to admire his dad, there were not many 60 year olds who are still sharper than their 25 year old sons. Damn, 75 feet and still good.

Arun(defeated look): "Yes pa, just the one letter."

Arun's father took the letter from Arun.

Dad: "Good. So Arun, have you finished cleaning your bike?"

Arun: "Yes pa."

Dad: "Ok can you give me your mobile phone I need to make a call to Paramasivam and after that we can start working on the water tank."

(to be continued)

The first date....

2005-07-04T21:43:00.000-04:00

Arun was cleaning his gleaming new black Honda CBZ outside his house on a typically very hot and humid Madras winter morning. There was a very good reason for Arun slaving a good two hours on his new motorbike when he could have watched Sourav's India play Pakistan at Multan on the telly. Arun was keeping his fingers crossed, well it wasn't beacuse of the Indian cricket team, for a change an Indian victory was a foregone conclusion. Arun was keeping his fingers crossed because of the girl who was visiting Ambujam aunty who lived opposite to him.

Arun came home from his office very late a week back and he impatiently knocked on the door fully expecting his mom to open it with an irritated look which sort of conveyed " Did you really have to knock on the door when the mother in law is mercilessly torturing the new bride to death on Sun TV?" But, unexpectedly there was this girl who Arun had never ever seen before open the door with such a big smile on her face that could even put Julia Roberts to shame. Understandably Arun was rendered speechless for a few minutes before Arun's mom made the introductions to break the ice. Arun got to know that her name was Priya, she was from Coimbatore and she was Ambujam aunty's niece. She was here to spend her college winter break. Ambujam aunty and Arun never got along very well ever since the day he set fire to sabapathy's tail (her dog). Only if Arun had behaved himself, he could be at Aunty's house talking to Priya over a hot cup of coffee. Beautiful women make men repent for their past mistakes. Maybe setting fire to a dog's tail is a little more than a mistake.

So Arun that very weekend had painstakingly pretended to clean his bike a good 4 hours just to find out the girls every day routine. So if all the effort that he put into cleaning his bike the last weekend paid off she would walk into the balcony facing his house with her coffee in hand in about 5 seconds. Will she or won't she?

5...4...3...2...1 he heard the gate creak and his dad walked through it with his Hindu and was standing right behind him. Arun immediately shifted his focus from the balcony door to the spotlessly clean steel mud guard (it could easily pass of for a mirror). Arun's dad was a retired principal and there weren't too many things that could escape his discerning eyes.

"Enna da Arun, is everything okay with Ambujam Maami's balcony door?"

That knocked the wind out of Arun. Arun gave his dad a sheepish smile and immediately put on his 'I don't know what you are talking about' poker face.

"Why pa, did she ask me to come and fix it? May be I should call our carpenter."

Arun's father glared at him,

"Maybe you should shift your attention to things in our own house. I noticed that you have this new found affinity to keeping things clean (looking at his reflection on the mud guard and grimacing at how much hair he has lost over the last year). Maybe we should start cleaning the water tank once I get back from the Tea stall."

Arun's father then gazed at the balcony unable to figure out what was going on. And, at that particular moment the balcony door opened and there she was standing with a cup in hand.
(to be continued)

Then and Now

2005-06-24T01:00:00.000-04:00

2 years back the conversations that we (2512,ferry & 1619, crest) had were predominantly about movies, 'attractive' women in movies and real life, sports and very rarely politics. There also used to be passionate debates about whether Windows or Mac had the better GUI sprinkled with fiery onslaughts on how Linux was way better compared to Windows, vice versa. Well, "people who know me", I know you are a little dazed to hear that I participated in these techno geek debates. Let me assure you the only part I played was to separate the bickering parties (K & C) from killing each other. Most of the non-geek conversations usually end up with about 6 guys ganging up on one poor tortured soul who would be a little too adventurous to adopt a slightly different stance on an issue which would predictably end up in teasing the living day lights out of him.

A week back I almost choked on my coffee when I heard D talking about how he had offered his dad some suggestions on cutting down costs on a house they were building back in India. Well D is the kinduv guy who lives for the present and to put it mildly the only planning that he does in life is ensuring that there is toilet paper in the toilet before he goes to crap. I imagined that 'Saving for a rainy day' was something that D could never do. I guess I should never form opinions because people change as circumstances change. Never hurts to change for the better. Now,mostly all the talk in the house centers on comparing job offers, possibilities of doing a Phd., the H-1B regulations and future plans. Never remembered the last time when I was so serious. Infact all I do now is take advice or give advice [the latter is so much easier ;) ].

Insecurities of a Middle Aged Indian Expatriate- Part 3

2005-06-10T15:57:00.000-04:00

Appan while opening the door to Dr. Hassan's office was thinking about his interview with Neyveli Lignite Corporation. It was his first job interview after graduation and he was terribly nervous, so nervous that while going into the room he tripped on the 'welcome' mat and fell down. The interviewer, a balding, middle aged Tamil Iyer, managed to lighten up Appan by remarking "Son, looks like you have fell into the right place." That line somehow eased the pressure on Appan and he managed to perform the interview decently well to get that job which guarateed him 160 rupees a month plus a home allowance of 60 rupees. Uncomplicated times where the stakes were lower, Appan thought. On entering the room, Appan saw that Dr. Hassan was talking rapidly in Arabic on his cell phone. He motioned Appan to take a seat. Appan didn't know enough Arabic to follow the doctor's conversation but he could clearly make out that Hassan was unhappy. Appan was closely scrutinizing Hassan's appearance. He looked a dapper young man, extremely fit, probably a shade short of 6. Then, Appan shifted his attention to Hassan's office, a neatly arranged shelf containing a lot of medical books. Appan was wondering how many of those books would have been read completely.

"The Doctor who previously occupied this office got too bored with those books that he left them here, I haven't read a single one, if thats what you were thinking of. I prefer reading lighter things." Hassan motioned to the Tintin comic lying on the table in the far corner of the room.

Appan, as expected was startled by Hassan's sudden interruption and his eyes followed Hassan's hands to the comic book which immediately brought a smile to his beleagured face. Probably, the first time his lips curled skywards through out the day.

"So, Mr. uh uh (bending down to get Appan's file from the cabinet) ah there it is, Mr.Uhppaaan. Did I get that right? Is it Uhppaaan? "

" Yeah, thats perfect."

Appan stopped caring about how people pronounced his name 15 years back, the day he set foot on this country. But it still became increasingly difficult to keep track of the different pronunciations despite his name being all of 5 letters. Hassan was deep in thought as he leafed through Appan's file. That made Appan a little nervous and Appan was doing the best a waiting patient could do, think about what the Doctor would eventually say, " Appan, I am going to SEE you in entirety. Lets do an X-ray, CT scan and an Ultrasound to nail that tumour and send you home "

Before Appan could think of other creative lines, Hassan remarked

" Man, this file is so ancient that I need to take it to Egypt and put it in the Giza Pyramid where it should rightfuly belong. I have to get some new files into this place."

Appan looked clearly offended, and it showed on his face. So much so that Hassan realized his folly immediately and moved on to the next topic.

"So Sir how long have you been in the country?"

Appan realized that the sudden deference was because of the fact that Hassan saw his date of birth on the file.

"About 15 years."

"Thats, quite a long time."

Appan, didn't like how this conversation was shaping up. Appan knew he was old and the hints that this young doctor was dropping weren't getting any subtler. First the file now this what next?

"Yes."

Appan was almost about to say "You must have been in diapers when I started my career ." just like how those ageing hollywood stars with oozing sex appeal would say it with a toothy grin. But, Appan knew he neither had the sex appeal nor a multi million dollar pay check to back that line up.

" Sir, I have 10 more minutes for a coffee break. And, I have a pounding headache so I think I would be needing twice as much of turkish coffee of what I usually consume."

Appan couldn't believe his luck, if he made some coffee for this arrogant bastard he would be off the hook. Poor Chapparwal and Sen, but for a coffee they could have kept their jobs. But there seemed to be a minor problem, he didn't know how to make Turkish coffee nor did Vasantha. Coffee for a career, a governement doctor in India would have asked for a lot more. These guys have a lot to learn about making most of an opportunity.

Hassan continued, "So what do you say we head down to the cafeteria take a premature break and then call it quits. My treat."

Appan was perplexed, so does that mean he is medically unfit even before the health checkup. If that were the case Appan was quickly thinking of the different lawyers he should approach.The sad part was that he didn't know any, the disadvantages of being a law abiding resident.

"What about my Medical test ?"

Hassan gave Appan a wicked smile.

"You are perfectly fine, you just had a test 2 years back. You are good for another year. They have changed the rules, its now once in three years and not two. I think someone messed up somewhere and didn't realize that you are good for a year."

Appan couldn't believe his ears and was speechless. He already started making a list of dos and donts. No more Heinekens, Yoga classes, No more unnecessary spending, Save a lot more for Sanjana's wedding, Start looking for grooms for Sanjana, maybe its time for him to dye his hair like Ghelot and coverup a few years.....

"Mr. Uhppaaan, are you alright?"

Appan immediatley snapped himself out of his reverie and blurted out, " I am perfectly fine doctor, lets go to the Cafeteria "

While on their way to the Cafeteria, Appan was thinking what could have possibly happened if he had given the health test. He mentally made note of approaching a private health center and getting a complete check up done, he didn't mind spending the money because he really wanted to know how healthy he is. He is not getting any younger, checkups and medication might be as regular a feature as paying phone bills. Appan strangely realized that the days of offering a silent prayer to Tirupati for his well being and the token 100 rupees in the Hundi has gone by.

The cafeteria was overcrowded and Hassan shouted over the din to Appan saying

"Ironically, the owner can never pray for the health and well being of his countrymen because that would mean he would have to close his Cafeteria."

"Coming to think of it you can't too."

Hassan laughed heartily

"Well said Mr. Uhppaaan. So what will you have, you should try the Turkish coffee?"

"I don't drink anything caeffinated, I think I will have Tomato juice, a rich source of anti-oxidants you know." (Concluded)

Review: Cinderella Man

2005-06-07T01:19:00.000-04:00

Cinderella Man

First up, I always thought it was Cindrella until I went for the 9:50 pm screening of Cinderella Man at a local theater. Okay, I am not being completely honest here. Once I saw the title on the screen, I thought the they made a typo. Jeez these guys make 100 million dollar movies and they misspelt Cindrella. 13 year old 'Indian' kids could have easily got that right. Its an unwritten rule here, if you are 13 and you are of Indian origin you must either be a spelling bee champ or a math olympiad winner. I was so confident that I googled cindrella just to confirm how stupid Universal Studios and Imagine Entertainment were. And no surprises gentlemen, google returned did you mean cinderella?, it was yet another unpleasant reminder from the higher ups that cockiness and a fresh grad like me are like Ganguly and runs. Secondly, about a year back when I read that Ron Howard was making a movie called Cinderella Man with Crowe, all I could think was, why a girlie movie after movies like Gladiator.
After seeing the movie, I would have to thank the cast and crew of Cinderella Man for helping me realize that even though I am Indian and 23, I am not a spelling bee champ and it also reminded me once again that Crowe=Testosterone. Well actually, I have to rephrase that, Crowe is not all Testosterone, this role has given him ample scope to emote like he did in 'A Beautiful Mind'. Alright, now its time to give you an idea about what I thought about the movie. Although, I have to forewarn you dear readers, if I like something I tend to over glorify it to such an extent that I become an unpaid PR. So spend your 7 dollars wisely, Revenge of the Sith could be a safer bet as it could atleast make you qualify for the "oh I am so cool because I know star wars" club.
Cinderella Man is a biopic about an American boxer James Braddock in the depression era. Russell Crowe lives and breathes the role of James Braddock. Braddock a New Jersey native is a 2 time state boxing champion and is also known as the 'bulldog from Bergen' before he got the more famous sobriquet of 'Cinderella Man' for all the amazing upsets that he manged to pull of on his way to the heayweight title. Braddock is happily married to Mae Braddock, very ably portrayed by Renee Zellweger. Renee definitely looks thinner compared to the last time I saw her in Bridget Jones. Her role as a boxers wife seemed to remind me a little of Talia Shire from Rocky. James and Mae have three kids and a lovely house in Jersey. The movie begins with Braddock pummeling yet another opponent. His Manager Joe Gould played stupendously by Paul Giamatti minus the beard (the guy who starred in Sideways) pays Braddock 8000 odd dollars for winning the fight and also tells him that he would soon get a shot at the Heavy weight title. Paul Giamatti's presence could have easily gone unnoticed considering the fact that he was sharing screen space with an actor like Crowe, but Giamatti at timesmanages to steal the thunder from Crowe with his amazing dialogue delivery and realistic portrayal of a fidgety manager.
A little while later the movie cuts to the year 1932, the depression era. The Braddocks's residence doesnt resemble anything like the sprawling house that they had in Jersey. Instead its a rundown shack like apartment where the Braddocks struggle to pay their bills, drink watered down milk and dream of good food. Braddock's boxing career is almost nonexistent after a couple of defeats in 1929. Braddock loses all his money on the stock exchange and works as a labourer at the docks. But his job is not entirely permanent as there are many days where he would have to sit on the bench. Braddock decides to fight for a 50 dollar purse inspite of his broken hand so that he could pay the pending gas and electric bills and keep his children warm and safe from pneumonia. The fight tuns out to be a no contest and such an embarassment in the eyes of the president of the boxing commission that he decides to revoke Braddock's boxing license. Mae sends the kids to her parents house so that they could atleast stay warm. By now you would be thinking, ok another weepie sob story.But Howard doesn't let the movie wallow in self pity. Instead he intersperses the hoplessness with very strong emotional scenes that portrays Braddock's never say die attitude and how he served as a beacon of hope to his compatriots in the those testing times. The latter half of the movie is about how Braddock gets a second chance to box and how he clings on to it because he realizes that he is no longer boxing for fame or fortune but for milk, electricity and other basic amenities. I wouldn't call it a typical rags to riches sports movie because there are many other things that this movie has to offer.
Three Scenes that I thought were fabulously directed and wonderfuly acted are as follows:
1) Braddock's son steals a salami from the grocer. Braddock takes his son back to the grocer and retuns the salami. His son then lets him know about how the kid next door was sent to his aunts house because his dad couldn't pay the bills. Braddock assures the kid that he would never let something like that happen. Its a very powerful scene that tells you how depression could delve past the psyche of kids and create a sense of insecurity in their fragile minds.
2) The scene where Braddock takes the shoe polish and brush when his wife tells him that he can't find work because of his broken hand.
3) This is the best of the lot. Braddock is portrayed as a dignified man with self respect. But when his wife sends the kids to her fathers because of Braddock's inability to pay the electric bills, Braddock swallows his pride and goes to the 'relief for the homeless' to get some money. He still falls short and decides to go to the Boxing commission and ask his friends for some money. On his way to the commission he sees a man and a woman walking out of a store with expensive clothes and getting themselves into a car. You can immediately sense what must be going on in Braddocks mind. 4 years back he would have been walking on this very same street in that mans expensive shoes. He walks into the commission office and explains his plight and makes his hat a makeshift begging bowl. That particular moment hits you really hard and can make the toughest of nuts to crack. Joe Gould's eyes become moist when he sees his once illustrious friend been reduced to such depths and drops the required money into the hat. Braddock cries and says that he is so sorry and Gould wipes the tears and says that there is no reason why he should be sorry for. Superlative acting and I am curious to know if that really happened or if the story writer just thought that the scene would look good.The director should be commended for the way he has deftly handled the scene. It brilliantly captures the emotional turmoil that a once wealthy man would be going through when he charters the unfamiliar territory of turning to his friends for money for survival.

There are other scenes that are so wonderfully executed that it reminds you about what life would have been for the people of that era. Like for example after Braddock makes it big in his second innings as a boxer he dines in an expensive restaurant and the waiter clears Braddocks plate even though it has a piece of steak. Braddock politely lets the waiter know that he still hasn't finished. Mae even secretly wraps her leftover pieces in a napkin to take it back home. It reminded me of my grand mother when she took the sugar, salt, spoons and forks from the aircraft on her first plane trip when she came to vist me in Bahrain. She always used to tell me that I should not waste a morsel of rice because she has been through such hard times when she never knew what she would feed her children for the next meal. She jokingly called it the 'next meal planning' commission. I callously waste food as I have grown up in a world of surpluses. Movies like these and the painting of how a vulture is waiting to make meal of a kid that is clinging on towards the last straw of life, makes me aware of my good fortune. I consciously make sure that I dont waste anything for the next few days. But as expected the resolve slowly vanishes just like all my other resolutions. However, like how a smoker promises that this one is going to be his last one, I am not going to waste any more food.
There are some negatives in the movie as well.
1. The heavy weight champion Max Baer is portrayed as a villain in the movie. He is depicted just like the archetypal villain: over confident, arrogant and loud (yeah just like Mogambo from Mr. India). I dont know if that was how Max Baer was really like. Maybe Ron Howard would have been tempted to spice things to up so that he could bring an interesting lead up to the climax.
2. There are instances where Braddock tells his friend Mike Wilson that forming unions is not going to solve problems that have been caused by greed. Later on in the movie Mike Wilson dies in Central Park in what I think was an anti-establishment and pro communism rally. Did the director really have to glorify Capitalism over Communism in a movie where the central theme was the resurrection and triumph of a man who was not long ago down and out ?
3. Unecessary jump cuts during the otherwise well choreographed fight scenes.
4. A few corny and cliched dialogues here and there.

On the whole the positives outnumber the negatives. In my opinion this movie is worth the money. The amazing duo of Crowe and Howard have once again delivered a film that can proudly stand toe to toe with its illustrious predecessor 'A Beautiful Mind'.

Kids these days !

2005-05-17T12:32:00.000-04:00

Ah, the morning of May 14th. Nothing special about the day other than the fact that it would put an end to my glorious academic career (my dad would start laughing if he sees the word 'glorious' and 'my academic career' mentioned in the same breath). One more degree against my very long name, people might even think that the B.E. M.S. is a part of my last name. Graduation day is one of those days where you tend to be retrospective about how things have transpired from bad to worse in your many years of sordid existence. Okay, it is not all that depressing because it gives you a chance to think about how fortunate you have been. You know, like you are forunate enough to not experience the displeasure of an umbrella up your ass or even better have sadistic friends who will give their right hand to open that umbrella up your ass (borrowed that line from a friend of mine called Bruce). So, in one of these very many therapy sessions where I act as my own pyschologist, I went back to the summer vacations after my 7th semester examinations, the days when I used to think of myself as a boy.
The origin of this particular session was my sprawling 200 square feet apartment bedroom. I was looking at myself in the mirror and I couldn't help but notice the fact that I had an uncanny resemblance to Goundamani*. I looked like an uncle (hey not the tamil version of the word!). Ok let me rephrase that, I looked very old. Then I thought of Nikhil, a 6 year old kid in Bahrain whose parents were recent additions to my fathers "really good family friends" list. There is a good reason for why I thought about him when I should be thinking of how I should wear the stupid gown and that salwar kameez duppata kind of thing. When I went home for my 7th sem summer vacations, my dad introduced me to this kid Nikhil and his parents. I am a little uncomfortable when I meet people for the first time as I am always at a loss of words. And, one of the reasons for the discomfort is the fact that I don't know how to address people. If they are as old as my dad, I could safely call them uncle. But if they are say 32 like Nikhil's parents, it puts me in a spot. I can't call them uncle... aunty...nor can I commit the suicidal mistake of calling them by their name.The last time I did that, my dad gave me "the look" and then looked at a stick that was a feet long until that 'D' in my science test in class 5. Even though it was in two pieces, 6 inches each, it was still strong. But I thought that I had an edge as I was 5' 11 and 40 kilos more heavier than what I was in class 5. Plus my dad was 56 and I was sure he would get tired sooner than the 2 hours and 23 minutes that we spent during the last ordeal. Nonetheless, I didn't want to take any risks, so, I pretty much avoided long conversations with these 30 something people and am always careful by not directly addressing them.....all the sentences usually begin with neenga, aamanga, illainga. So thats the same approach that I used for Nikhil's parents and it worked out fine. But, Nikhil on the other hand who was all of 6 didn't have to bother with 'social diplomacy'. He can talk his mind. Even if he calls me an overstuffed toad with an ogre like nose, it would just cause a ripple of laughter accompanied by the usual "Kids these days" jingle. But, Nikhil was a tad more blunt as he called me "Kumar Uncle". And, he didn't stop there, he asked me, "Where is Kumar Aunty?".
Understandably, everyone laughed at my expense which seemed to be so routine that even I started to make fun of myself. If you are not a stud and you want people to notice your sense of humour there is nothing like self depreciating humour. Nikhil's dad patiently explained to him that, "Kanna, this is Kumar anna...he is also studying like you. He is going to college like how you are going to school". Ah, finally...atleast the kids dad had the courtsey to explain where things stood to the kid. But, Nikhil was one of those determined types who I am quite would grow upto give teachers a hard time until he knows the physical, chemical, pyschological, ecological, biological and spiritual implications of E=MC2. So, 'persistent' Nikhil then began to make his dad understand about what he thought of the situation. "Appa, you are Venkatesh Uncle and this is amma and she is Venkatesh aunty, this is Ananth uncle and that is Ananth aunty. So if this is Kumar uncle where is Kumar aunty?" Nikhil's dad tried one last time to convince his son that I was anna and not uncle and there was no Kumar Aunty because I was unmarried. If not for 'social diplomacy' he would have probably wound up saying "Nikhil kanna, judging this uncle...chi...anna by his looks an aunty ....chi...anni's possibilty is as remote as the coovum smelling like Jasmine flowers". But, Nikhil exemplified perseverance and he then stood next to me and was trying to persuade my dad and his dad to stand next to me. The point he was trying to make was that I was the tallest man in the room and usually people who were taller than him are supposed to be married. Nikhil's father gave up and told him that Kumar Aunty was in India. Nikhil beamed and gave one of his "See I told you so" looks. After Nikhil and his parents left I overheard my parents saying that as soon as this fellow gets a job we are getting him married.

My dad snapped me out of the session and told me that "Son, its time for graduation. Get a job so that we could start looking for a girl."

* The author doesn't mean to ridicule Mr.Goundamani's looks and sincerely apologizes incase Mr. Goundamani or his fans misconstrue this as an insult.

Racism? Frustration?...uh...whatever

2005-05-05T14:59:00.000-04:00

Ever since I landed in the United States, Americans have taken the pains to understand the Indian English that I speak. Like for instance the day I landed in Washington, I was waiting for my connecting flight to Raleigh. I walked up to the gentleman in the American Airlines counter and asked him the gate number for the flight departing to Raleigh (which I pronounced Rallay). The guy strained his ears and asked me to repeat my question again. I obliged and he then realized it was pointless to make me repeat the query again. So, he started relaying each and every word that he could make sense of. Well it was quite a spectacle, two men who were at pains to understand each other even though they spoke the same language. Finally after a painstaking few minutes passed by we seemed to agree on everything except Raleigh. The AA guy threw his hands up in the air and told me that there is no place called Rallay in the United States. Yeah, he scared me out of my wits. You could imagine how it would have felt for a person who has come all the way from Madras to a non existent place to do Engineering. I then showed him my boarding card and pointed R A L E I G H on it. The man smiled at me which made his already creased face resemble a crumpled paper. The smile then gave way to hearty laughter which made the flab hanging out of his pants heave up and down like jello. I just stood there waiting for an explanation because I frankly thought the humor, if at all there was any, was too subtle for my taste. He then recovered himself and told me, "Sonny, its rolly not rallay, rolly as in dolly and you need to go to gate 24." I smiled at him sheepishly and walked towards 24. Over the past 2 years, consciously or unconsciously I have changed the way I pronounce certain words (for e.g. 'schedule') to make my life and the listeners life easier.
But, I had an altogether different experience last week. I called up XYZ to request some information. I introduced myself and asked the lady (she had an african american accent) my question. Her reply was, "Sir, You have a beautiful accent, I didn't understand a word of what you said, why don't you tell me your account number first to make things easier for me."
I was silent for a couple of seconds. I couldn't think of a smart repartee to say "**** *** ****" All I managed to say was, "thank you ma'am that wouldn't be necessary." and hung up. Maybe she had a rough day, or maybe she really had something against people who couldn't speak like Chris Tucker. I have problems understanding what the Chinese say but I never mock them on their face. I am not sure whether this qualifies as racism or probably an act of frustration.But, it certainly made me seethe with rage for the next hour or so.

Review: Chandramukhi

2005-04-21T15:41:00.000-04:00

The Rajini Magic will never die!

Chandramukhi is not a quintessential Rajini Movie. And, probably this is the only post 90's Rajini movie that any other actor could have starred in, minus the spectacular larger than life intro scene that is usually reserved for thalai. Maybe Baba, Ramadoss and all the critics who had written Rajini off might have been the reason why thalai opted for a safe movie that could reach the theatres sans any controversies. Nonetheless, the movie still had its share, the remake rights and distribution in Bangalore were a couple of contentious issues. However this movie is a fitting riposte to all the cynics out there: "The Rajini Magic will never die"

The reason why I say the magic will never die is because the most impulsive thing that I have done over the last 23 years of my life other than scratching my head, is to drive down for 7 hours to just watch the movie. Not surprising for a Rajini fan but I managed to convince non Rajini fans which goes to say a lot(when I mean non Rajini, there is this one guy who didn't seen Baasha....a cardinal sin). All my friends would swear that I am not the kind of person who does things out of the ordinary apart from wearing blue and yellow striped shorts to college (yeah, the senthil and goundamani types). Surprisingly my roomie an otherwise softspoken Phd. candidate joined in the shouting matches that ensued in the theatre. I seriously didn't know his vocal chords were capable of doing that till last week. I rest my case ladies and gentlemen, such is the power of The Rajini Magic.

Rajini plays Saravanan, a pyschiatrist living in America who is on a vacation to India. He is an orphan and was supported by Senthilnathan's (Prabhu) father (Late Sivaji Ganesan) . Saravanan is eternally indebted to Senthilnathan's family. Senthil has got a multi crore road contract in Vettayapuram, his ancestral village. This worries Senthil's mother (K.R Vijaya) a lot. Senthil's father had a love marriage which irked his relatives and Akhilandeshwari the lady whom he was originally supposed to marry. Therefore, Senthil's family has fallen out with their vettayapuram relatives for the last 30 years. Senthil's mother tries to bring the feuding families together by promising to marry Prabhu to Akhilandeshwari's niece Priya (Malavika). But, Senthil also follows his dad's footsteps by having a love marriage. His wife Ganga(Jyothika) plays the central character in the movie. Senthil buys the Vettayapuram palace so that he and his wife could live in it till his construction project gets completed. The Vettayapuram palace is considered to be haunted and Senthil's mother doesn't like the idea of them living there. Saravanan assures her that it is his responsibility to keep Senthil and Ganga safe for the duration of their stay in Vettayapuram. So Rajini, Prabhu and Ganga head to the Vettayapuram Palace. Akhilandeshwari is peeved to know that Senthil is married, nonetheless, she decides its her family's duty to ensure the safety of Senthil and Ganga. So she, her brothers (Nasser and Vadivelu) and their family's decide to stay with Senthil and Ganga in the palace for the duration of the project. As expected a lot of strange things happen once Senthil and family set their foot in the house. The latter part of the movie is how Rajini resolves the mystery behind the legend of the Vettayapuram Palace.

Some of the things that I liked about the movie:
The original story had been rehashed to give Rajini's character enough importance that requires him to have as much screen presence as possible. Eventhough the rehashed storyline as expected lost the originality which its predecessor had to offer but Thalaivar didn't let down the director and has given a sterling performance.Thalai's introduction scene followed by an amazing fight certainly set the theatre alight. A bunch of software engineers and graduate students is not saying much.I just cannot imagine the decibel levels that would have been generated in Abhirami, Albert and Udhayam in Chennai. I would doubt the film's chances of success at the box office if it was a faithful frame to frame remake of the original with anyone other than Rajini as the hero. A pei padam (ghost story) wouldn't be really on top of a movie goer's choices for the summer. Only Rajini's presence can bring people into the theatre. If one recalls there was a similar malayalam movie remade into tamil with Mamooty as the hero. The movie was titled Kili pecha ketkava. It was directed by the illustrious Fazil. But the movie grossed averagely and was definitely not anywhere near the malayalam original.

The director Vasu has done an exceptional job by trying to remain true to the story without compromising Rajini's fans. It was a tight balancing that eventually tilted towards having a sound story.As a fan I might have felt a little let down because of the lack of the characterstic Rajini dialogues but from a business perspective fans can ensure only a good opening, the rest is up to the family audiences. I guess someone as experienced as Vasu understood this perfectly and decided to provide a wholesome and clean fare by attracting no controversies whatsoever.

Its been a while since I have seen Vadivelu consciously taking an effort to make you laugh. Off late all his sequences usually resort to a rehash of all his previously tried and tested tracks with a generous sprinkling of his trademark words "Vandhutanya Vandhutaan, Chinna pula thanama irukka and give respect take respect". But, in this movie the Rajini-Vadivelu combo has really brought the best out of both of them. Vadivelu plays the character of a doubtful husband married to a very beautiful wife. Watch out for the 'Sothulayum adi vangiyachu Setthulayum adi vangiyachu' bit. Its rib tickling.

***spoiler alert***
Jyothika has given a superlative performance. Some of my friends thought it was plain overacting. But I cannot agree with them. She certainly sent shivers done my spine by just rolling her eyes and letting out that blood churling Lakka Lakka. Very simple lighting effects have been used in the movie to make the viewer scared and the results are of garangutan proportions. Five full grown men (of which I was the youngest and probably the most scared) were a little shaken after the movie.

The makeup man must be commended for making Rajini as close to how he was in Baasha. Though there were a few frames where you could make out some patches.

I loved the music in the movie. I initially thought the music album to be a big let down. But the audio-visula experience lent a whole new dimension to the songs. Well done Vidyasagar.

The things that I didn't like:
A lot of unnecessary scenes where random characters glorify thalai on screen. I personally didnt see the necessity of those scenes at that juncture where the need of the hour was a crisp lead up to the climax. The Editor could have generously used the scissors.

Nasser's performance I thought went a little overboard. It wasn't like he was unbearable to watch. But one generally associates him with fluid and measured enactments, like the hilarious Bhai cook in Avvai Shanmugi and the astute police cop in Nayagan. Probably the role didn't have enough scope for him to perform.

Choreography was sometimes a little too nursery like. Every dance had some variation of the ring a ring of rose's routine. Maybe thalai isn't young enough to dance the way he used to.

Nayantara didn't have anything to do in the film. Probably the whole romance track could have been just scrapped from the movie. You just can't help but notice the glaring age difference between the lead pair.

Overall it was an amazing trip plus a good movie. I enjoyed every bit of it. I think this could well be the last movie for Thalai, as it is most certainly going to be the biggest blockbuster for the year 2005. I would be surprised if Rajini decides to do another film.

Verdict: The pheonix rises

Insecurities of a middle aged Indian expatriate- Part 2

2005-04-20T18:15:00.000-04:00

Appan was slowly walking towards Dr. Hassan's office. He was drawing up images of Dr. Hassan mentally. Short, pot bellied and cheerful or maybe tall lean and mean. He could be even be one of those young recently graduated brash and arrogant yuppie types who don't understand a thing about 'the curse of the middle agedness'. As Appan waded through the corridor trying to locate a name board which spelt Dr. Hassan, he saw a familiar face. But the hair do of this person didn't seem to match his familiar face. Appan's grey cells worked overtime to come up with this guys name, it most certainly looked like Ghelot from operations but the last time he saw Ghelot he had a shock of snow white hair. But this guy had coal black hair, it could probably be Ghelot's son. Appan now noticed that the Ghelot look alike was walking towards him with his hands outstretched. Appan turned back to make sure that it wasn't someone behind him that he was approaching. All appan could see was a man lying on a stretcher with his hands bandaged in paris. Just as Appan shifted his attention from the man in paris he heard

"Hey Appan! How have you been my man."

And thats when it dawned upon Appan that it was indeed Ghelot but with hair that now contained two whole packets of Godrej Hair dye. It was amazing that dye could make people think that you are younger by one generation.Probably he should have dyed his hair too.

" I am fine Ghelot, You look very different"

Ghelot lowered his voice and exclaimed,

"Yeah, I had my health check up today and you know the date of birth in my passport reads 1953 but its actually 47 so I decided to cover up the years"

Ghelot put his index finger to his mouth indicating that he had let Appan in on something top secret, little did poor Ghelot realize that it was common knowledge. Even the guy from the canteen who served tea during the break hours knew it.

" So, Ghelot was it Dr. Shetty?"

" No, it was an old Egyptian guy called Yehud, thank God it wasn't that arrogant young fellow Hassan who flunked Chapparwal and Sen. Anyway, I am glad its over."

Those lines struck Appan pretty badly. The mention of 'young' somehow deteriorated things for Appan. He started having visions of his son shining shoes and his 30 year old and still single daughter tailoring clothes along with his wife in a small hut near kannamapettai.

"Appan, Appan...you here"

Before Appan slowly recuperated from the latest blow that he was dealt with, he replayed Ghelot's last sentence once again in his mind and it seemed to end with Sen.

"Wait a minute...SEN....SEN..what happened to SEN?"

"Oh Appan, you don't know! Sen failed the hearing test and they served him his 30 days notice"

" What a shame Ghelot! Thats sad. Sen is an IIT product. They can never get someone like him."

"Yes buddy, thats how life is. IIT gets lost on deaf ears. So what brings you here?"

That line got Appan thinking. Did he mean the power station authorities or was he talking about Sen being deaf?

"I have my HC with Dr. Hassan in another 10 minutes" (in a very resigned tone)

Appan by now had left every thing to Lord Venkatachalapathy. Ofcourse, he has now promised to make Him 5000 rupees closer to settling His outstanding debts with Kuberan, in addition to the previously promised mottai (tonsure) for his son if he passed the check.

"Uh..Hassan..okay Appan, I mean he is not that bad a man. He might be a little young and hotblooded but maybe Sen might have really had hearing problems. You are not a shade over 48 and there isn't a thing for you to worry about. See you in the office tomorrow!"

If that was any consolation it didnt go down very well the 46 year old. Appan bid Ghelot farewell. Probably this would be the last time he saw him. Appan somehow couldn't believe himself to be healthy. He somehow had this instictive feeling of some organ in his body not functioning. This country somehow made him pessismistic. Even if he went on a drive he could only think of some truck ramming into the car or his brakes failing. There was always this sense of insecurity. Probably that's how every expat became after 15 years of living in constant fear of losing his job. Someone once said that, " Pleasure is the carrot dangled to lure the ass to market or the precipice". It was a perfect quote for Appan's current predicament.

Appan finally managed to find Dr. Hassan's room. Despite all the wayside happenings he was a minute earlier than the scheduled appointement time. If he was meant to go to Kannamapettai let it be atleast a minute sooner. There is no point in postponing fate, it is better to embrace it with open arms and who knows maybe a minute sooner would make a lot of difference in getting ahead of competing shoeshine and tailoring businesses in and around Kannamapettai.Bracing himself, Appan knocked on the door and a very firm and clear voice in a very thick Arabic accented English asked him to come in. (to be continued)

T H A L A I

2005-04-14T01:43:00.000-04:00

This might sound a little crazy to everyone. I am going to Atlanta, a six and a half hour drive from my house. And, as the caption suggests (if you know Tamil) the reason for the trip is to watch Chandramukhi, Thalai's release for the New Year. I will write about it once I get back from Atlanta.

A memorable dialogue

2005-04-09T12:33:00.000-04:00

I saw Garden State a couple of weeks back. It was a pretty decent movie with some amazing dialogues. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, there are only a handful of movies that stay with you for a long time after the show gets over. Things that feel close to your heart are bound to remain with you forever and there was this one dialogue in Garden State that I especially identified with.

Andrew Largeman: You know that there is a point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone.
Sam: I still feel at home in my house.
Andrew Largeman: You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day. One day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.

There are only a few places that evoke the same warmth that you generally associate with a home. The house I grew up in Bahrain was one of those places and my parents are still living there (ever since I was a1 year old). I had to go to India for good when I was in class 8. My Dad felt that the place he worked was close to firing expatriates and he was not very sure that they would retain him. He didn't want me to miss a year of school if they decided to fire him in October. So I left for India in the summer of '95. Eventually my Dad did manage to hold on to his job (he even got a raise a year later) but I for some inexplicable reasons remained in India. I visited my mom and dad every year for my summer vacation. I spent a month and a half experiencing the luxuries that only your parents could provide. And when it was time to leave there would always be a lump in my throat. I always had this notion that boys should never cry and would control myself. Over the years, I perfected the facial expression of 'Mom I will be fine, I am actually looking forward to school and homework'. My mom always cried at the airport and my dad always shook my hands and reminded me to do well in school. I have been visting Bahrain every year for the last 10 years but strangely I just feel like a visitor. Subconsciously, It didn't bring the kind of security that a home should, it was more like a hotel as I always knew that I had to leave. But one thing that has remained constant over the years is the pain of separation.Good bye's suck.

Coming back to the movie, when Andrew Largeman mouthed those words it actually felt like it was something that I had been thinking all along but never bothered to give shape to those thoughts by expressing them in words. Zach Braff who plays the protaganist is also the writer and director. He has done an excellent job.

Insecurities of a middle aged Indian Expatriate

2005-04-01T21:28:00.000-05:00

Mr. Appan, 46, Contol Room Superintendent of Al Riffaa power station 'was' a happily married man blessed with a son and a daughter. Well he is still married and he still likes his kids but calling them 'a blessing' is stretching it a little too far especially when you do not know where the phone is and still pay 4 figure phone bills every month. So, you may ask, why the emphasis on the 'was' ? Appan, is now a tired middle aged Indian expatriate who always has to think about saving his job, buying a flat in India, getting his daughter married and sending his son to an Engineering college (especially after he heard that Mr. Chpparwal's son was studying in IIT by paying 5000 dollars every year).So Appan needed a lot of money and thanks to the oil rich gulf states he has been getting enough 'tax free' money to take care of himself and his family for the last 15 years. Any expatriate would vouch the fact that 15 years in a gulf country is a life time and Appan has endured a lot in these years like for example he bravely(greedily) stood his ground during the testy times of the gulf war when half the expatriate population fled the country fearing for their lives.
But what he was faced with now is even more brutal than the wars that he had witnessed. The government wants every skilled expatriate(read engineers) to train an Arab so that he could replace the expatriate once he is fully trained. This was called the Arabization process and was launched to appease the local population as the unemployment rate among the locals grew to 6 percent thanks to all the Indians, Pakistanis, Filipinos and Bangladeshi's flooding the country.According to the recent census report the population for the whole city was estimated to be 150,000 of which 73,000 people were expatriates. If things carried on in the same vein, the expatriates would probably out number the locals in another 2 years. Appan was initially pretty confident that the new measures wont hurt him as he held a very important/responsible position in the power station which frankly could not be entrusted to a 23 year old local with a diploma. This position called for a lot of experience and Appan was sure that there were no 46 year old unemployed locals who could fit his job profile. Appan was in part right as none of the senior engineers in the station got a local assigned to them. Just when life looked peaceful came the shattering news that Mr. Chapparwal got fired because he failed his health test and was promptly replaced by a 30 year old local who had just completed his Engineering degree from Leeds,England (getting you bachelors degree when you are 30...now that is what I call persistence). The incident sent out shock waves to all the expat Engineer's in the power station. This was a first to them as no one got fired for failing fitness tests.
That night Appan put himself in Chapparwal's shoes, what would happen to Mr. C's son who needed another 10000 dollars to see him through IIT, what would happen to the house he was building in Rajasthan and his daughter is already 21 with 'marriageable' written all over her face The term 'marrigeable' was a much better way of putting things in perspective, definitely better than the phrase "she is fast approaching her sell by date" which Appan's wife often uses. Appan was having panic attacks because it looked like he fit chapparwal to a T and his health test was due in another week. Probably he should have listened to his wife and excercised. He should have joined those yoga classes. He should have cut down on all those Heineken's.
Appan had a nightmarish week and was for the first time in his life was gravely concerned about his health. The 'D' day had arrived and Appan was nervously fidgeting in his chair at the lobby of the Al Rabia International Hospital waiting for the nurse to give him the name of the doctor that he was supposed to meet. He knew that there was a Dr. Shetty in the hospital and he was praying God and seeking his divine intervention to get himself into the warm and cozy confines of a fellow Indian Expatriate who understands what it means to lose one's job. The nurse called out Appan's name and asked him to go to Dr. Adnan Hassan's office. Hassan....Hassan ...Hassan.....the name echoed in Appans ears ...(to be continued)

Gay Abandon

2005-03-27T13:32:00.000-05:00

A couple of months back I was visiting my brother’s place in Dallas for my winter break. Three weeks of good Indian home cooked food sounded too good to give up. Moreover, I didn’t have anything else to do and if I stayed back at school, I am sure I would have wasted the little money that I had on booze and pizza. So after weighing all the options that I pretended to have, I booked my tickets to Dallas. On reaching Dallas, I was greeted by the smell of roast potatoes, Rasam and Sambar. I don’t know whether my cousin noticed the drool that was coming out through the sides of my hungry mouth. I earnestly tried to sit away from the dining table, as I didn’t want my cousins to think that the primary purpose for this visit was to fatten myself up.

So one fine morning my cousin bro. got a call from his friend and he wanted my bro to pick him up at the airport. So my bro asked me whether I could accompany him and the accommodating person that I am, I quickly said yes. Later in the day I realized the perils of mouthing a quick yes. My bros car refused to start and so we had to take his wife’s car ‘A BEETLE’. Yeah the car looked cute and all that, but a guy driving a beetle would definitely look odd and sensing that my brother gave me the keys and asked me to drive. And I knew what he was ‘driving at’ and so I quickly told him that I don’t have a license.He couldn’t ask his wife to come along with him because he refused to pick her friend up a couple of weeks back which was still very fresh in her memory. He muttered something like “ of all the cars why did she have to get a beetle…” and started the car. Well, if he had to blame someone then it had to be Hitler, after all it was he who designed this frightfully feminine car. But, I didn’t want to go over the history of the car to irritate the already furious driver. So off we went to the airport. Now this was during Christmas time and America was on an 'ELEVATED STATE OF ALERT’ declared color orange. I think Bush wanted to make this clear to every one, “ Hi dudes! Merry Christmas...enjoyin the party eh! Good, just to warn you, if u have a plane mysteriously knocking at your door don’t tell me that we didn’t alert you.Peace out!” Every car was thoroughly inspected by the cops and our beautiful beetle was inspected by an Afro American cop.

He knocked on the window and said “Ma'am can you lower your window please”. I admired the way how friendly the cops were here and totally missed out on the “Ma'am”. My brother had a smirk on his face when he heard that ma'am and muttered that he should have never agreed to pick up this friend. My brother lowered the window and the cop jutted his head through it and had a peek inside. He then gave a smile and said “Nice car you got 'guys’. Nice flowers and yeah you have a nice teddy bear there. So did you guys watch that show on ABC yesterday at what 8 or 9 pm.” I was pleasantly surprised, cops had the time to talk about TV shows when America was orange. Probably, the cops didn’t want the local population to feel the heat and have decided to mask the tension by striking friendly conversations . You just had to give it to these cops who tirelessly fight terrosists and are also in the mood to chat with two average guys in a beetle just so that they feel safe.But the teddy bear he mentioned about, was our beloved Lord Ganesha and I thought of correcting the cop but then my brother was totally pissed and shot back at the cop “Sir its not what you are thinking, this is my wife’s car and me and my brother are on our way to pick her up.” Hey…wait a minute we are not picking his wife I thought it was his friend…I hope my brother knew that lying to a cop was an offense. The cop then leered at us and sarcastically said “yeah whatever!” I just didn’t get it, why should my brother get back at a cop who was just trying to be friendly. On the way to the terminal, I gave my brother a lengthy sermon about the great sacrifices that these men are making for their country and we had no right to snap at them when they are just trying to be friendlyto make us feel safe. On hearing that my brother shot the nastiest look that I had ever seen in my short life of 20 years. He then told me that the show he was talking about on ABC was a reality homosexual dating show. Now, that gave a whole new dimension to the word 'guys'. I was completely pissed.…..so much for cops being friendly…...”bloody perverts”...can’t two guys go around in a beetle together. What has this world come to?

On reaching the terminal, we saw my brother’s friends waiting there. As soon as we got out he gave a weird look on seeing 'us'. My brother sensed what his friend was thinking and quickly introduced me as “the cousin who is here on a vacation” and I almost heard him say….” I wish I should have never asked him to accompany me or even better I should have never come here to pick you up.” So we were heading out of the airport and by some curious mischance we saw the same cop inspecting cars on the exit. He then tapped on the window and this time he said, “Gentlemen lower the window”. He then looked at my brother’s friend.” Hi there, I don’t want to make you ‘GUYS’ wait. I am sure you are in for a busy night. Have a nice one GUYS.” My brother’s friend was totally confused on hearing that and we then explained the whole sequence of events and he laughed all the way home.

Shine your light

2005-03-24T02:23:00.000-05:00

I watched Ladder 49 yesterday. It is about a Baltimore fire fighter played by Joaquin Phoenix. It is a very touching movie except for some goofy scenes that tried to portray the camaraderie of the fire fighters in the fire station. John Travolta plays the chief of the station and I have never heard of the rest of the star cast. The one thing that stands out in the movie is its sound track. There is this one song in particular 'Shine your light' by Robbie Robertson which was amazing. The lyrics were awesome.You need to know what happens in the movie to understand the meaning behind the song.
*SPOILER ALERT* As I consider all my readers to be too busy to watch movies Iam assuming that you are not going to watch the movie and so it is perfectly ok for me to tell you the movie's ending, in my effort to make you understand the significance of each and every line of this song. The fire fighter whose life is being chronicled in the movie dies in a rescue mission. He is being carried in a coffin to the cemetry and this song starts playing in the background. Here is how it goes

Artist: Robbie Robertson
Song: Shine Your Light

Lyrics

The cry of the city like a siren's song
Wailing over the rooftops the whole night long
Saw a shooting star like a diamond in the sky
Must be someone's soul passing by
These are the streets
Where we used to run where your Papa's from
These are the days
Where you become what you become
These are the streets
Where the story's told
The truth unfolds
Darkness settles in
Shine your light down on me
Lift me up so I can see
Shine your light when you're gone
Give me the strength
To carry on, carry on
Don't wanna be a hero
Just an everyday man
Trying to do the job the very best he can
But now it's like living on borrowed time
Out on the rim, over the line
Always tempting, fate, like a game of chance
Never wanna stick around to the very last dance
Sometimes I stumble and take a hard fall
Loose your grip off the wall
Shine your light down on me
Lift me up so I can see
Shine your light when you're gone
Give me the strength to carry on
Carry on
I thought I saw him walking by the side of the road
Maybe trying to find his way home
He's here but not here
He's gone but not gone
Just hope he knows if I get lost
Shine your light down on me
Lift me up so I can see
Shine your light when you're gone
Give me the strength to carry on
Carry on

Mom's

2005-03-19T11:29:00.000-05:00

I just read a very disturbing news item on Sify. It reminded me of a story that my dad told me when I was 12 or 13 after I had a big fight with my mom.
I am sure most of you would have heard of it. Boy loves girl....girl tells boy to bring his mother's heart to prove that he truly loves her......boy stabs his mother and rips her heart out and runs to his lady love....while doing so he trips down with his mothers heart.....while he tries to get up he hears his mothers voice coming from the heart asking him whether he was hurt and to be a little more careful.
I was very cynical and gave my dad a look which conveyed " Yeah right, I believe you!!!". But now a more mature me would have probably believed my dad. Mom's are truly great, please read this article:

http://sify.com/news/othernews/fullstory.php?id=13697450

Some might consider the act downright stupid. Who will take care of her kids now? Will her kids really be happy? But, this whole tragedy just goes to show that Mom's are not capable of thinking logically when it comes to their kids. They could move heaven and earth to bring a smile on their child's face. Probably, thats the only reason why my mom thinks I look handsome than most of the heroes in the film industry. I hope she didn't compare me to the likes of Vijaykanth, Raj Kiran and Ramarajan (yeah the cynical me :D)

Funny read

2005-03-18T13:06:00.000-05:00

This article appeared on BBC sometime back. Its about 419's a.k.a emails which start off like, I am the prince of Nigeria and I need your help in.....

Read it, its amazingly funny

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/3887493.stm

Slow and selfish

2005-03-12T15:04:00.000-05:00

I always get pissed with people who try sounding diplomatically right and get even more pissed if people appreciate the person for doing that. It just looks so artificial and that was the first thing that struck me when I reached Raleigh. Now lets take this to another level...people hate Shoaib Akhtar because he talks his mind (agreed it can be brash and downright stupid at times). But you would atleast know that this guy would have the same things to say about you..... behind you and on your face. Now take Mr Goody Two Shoes Sachin Tendulkar, you always hear the same sound bytes.
Media: Sachin, how would you rate this century?
Sachin(if the team wins): I dont mind if I score a century or a 40...I am happy as long as it helps the team win.
Sachin(if the team loses): I am very sad that the team lost and this century didnt help the teams cause.

Media: Sachin, another century and you have the record for the most number of hundreds in either form of the game, Your comment?
Mr. Goody Two Shoes: I never play for records, I am happy to play for my country and contribute towards its success.

Press conference after press conference you hear the same things and for some strange reason I always believed the man. But offlate it just doesnt add up.Yesterdays draw can be blamed entirely on Sachin and to a lesser extent on Ganguly. Nobody scores 120 runs in 70 odd overs after scoring 350 runs at a run rate of 4.5 for a day and a half. And, with 7 wickets remaining...I just cannot see any possible reason for adopting such a painfuly slow scoring rate. A man who was batting beautifully with Sehwag made batting look as dry as the Saharan desert after Sehwag's departure. Ganguly the new man in was scratchy and looked out of sorts and it was up to THE BATTINGOD to maintain the run rate. But I guess Sachin desperately needed that century and wanted to reach towards it as slowly as possible without taking any risks. I was happy that he didnt get it. I read a news article which suggested the low sightscreen to be the reason why Sachin batted so slowly. Helloooo...? are you guys trying to tell me that Sachin develops this lowsighscreenphobia after reaching is half century. He score his first 50 of 70 balls and the next 50 of 120 balls.Dont try to justify his actions...maybe Sachin got out because he had loose motions....Sachin got that LBW decision because the umpire had a boil on his ass...wake up people. All I can say is that please dont make him out to be so selfless. Maybe I would have done the same thing as Sachin..... but I could never lie so blatantly that the Country comes before me and the reason why I played so slow was because of the team and our strategy. Being selfish is not such a big deal but acting 'selfless' sucks big time.

Praveen's Kavidhai

2005-03-09T15:09:00.000-05:00

Praveen and I have been class mates since class 7. Though he is from Kerala, he knows more Tamil than I do (Ok, I am not a good basis for comparing with). But, this piece from him was beautiful. I am not very good at writing a glowing review. I could never digest the fact that there are people who are more talented than me ;). I have tried transalating it into Tamil. While I tried transalating it, I just couldn't help noticing the beauty of Tamil...there were some words that just didn't feel the same way when written in English...or maybe I just dont know enough English to fill in the right words. All of the sudden I suspect its the latter. Anyways I will leave you with the 'kavidhai' and its English transalation.

vodum naeram oru kanam nindradhu
aval azhagai rasipadharkku

veesum kaatru sattrae yosithadhu
aval koondhalai kalaipadharkku

paayum alaigal konjam kuzhaindhadhu
aval udalai ninaipadharkku

kozuthum sooriyan paavam parthadhu
aval maeniyai suduvadharkku

suttrum bhoomi dhisaiyai maatriyadhu
avalai thirumbip paarpadharku

Ivargalai pol naan innum thayanguvadhu
yen kaadhalai solvadharku

- Praveen Sathya

English Translation

Time stopped for a moment
to soak in her beauty

The breezy wind contemplated
on blowing her hair away

The tides/waves stepped back and hesitated a little
to wet her body

The scorching sun pitied her
as it didn't want to scald her skin ***

The rotating earth changed directions
to have a second look at her

Like them, I too hesitate
to tell my love for you

*** this line was really difficult to transalate, so if you have a better way of putting it please drop it in as a comment.
(Karthik, stay away! Even though you are working your way towards that doctorate in Linguistics....the 'mudhala sambar apparam fightu' brand of Tamil won't work here :D )

Budget 2005-2006

2005-03-03T12:26:00.000-05:00

Overall, everyone is happy with PC's budget. Many of you guys would have already read about it in the papers. India Inc. is very happy, stock markets shot up by 144 points on budget day. However there was this one person who wasn't too impressed with it. It was my uncle and he works for a bank. My uncle and I always had good discussions about the budget when I was in Madras and we still do have those discussions but its now through emails.

I would like to present his criticisms here, as it would make for some interesting reading.

****As usual with any Budget of Chidambaram, it is eloquent in English but empty in figures. He wants to establsih Bharat Nirman without Capital. Gives Tax Relief for every one but wants to Tax if they withdraw cash more than Rs10000/ from the Bank. Also wants details of all deposits where withholding tax is not deducted. He wants to ride on the back of the Bankers to get hold of tax evaders. In India you have to pay fine as tax for doing something wrong and tax as fine for doing something right.This Budget makes no effort to reduce the Fiscal Deficit. He has not brought any reforms on labour. Harping on 100 % FDI is o.k but how will foreign investors think about investing in an India without infra structure. He says Banking in India is a picture of paradox? These are the same Banks which brought about green,white (Milk) Revolution in the Country. These are the Banks who lend when there is aTsunami tragedy or a Bhuj Tragedy. Will HSBC or Citi do it? They will term it commercially unviable and will probably throw in a few dollars as charity and tell the world that their deepest sympathies rest with affected countries. He is more interested in selling the Indian Banking system to American Banks. Here is a Country with a Finance Minister who is more interested in selling the banking system to foreign vultures in the name of liberalisation. What a paradox? What about the desalination plant in Chennai? With 12 minister and 40 Mps Tamilnadu, I cannot even think of drinking water.It is a pity.****

If you guys were wondering what Bharat Nirman is....this is the link
http://us.rediff.com/money/2005/feb/22bud1.htm

And Fiscal deficit in simple terms means that you spend more than what you get.

And FDI is foreign direct investment. If GE sets up a facility in India it is considered as a foreign direct investment. I am not sure about this but I think foreign bodies(FII) investing money on the Indian stock eschange are considered FDI too.

Well, my uncle has expressed his frustrations with the budget as a Chennaite banker. I kind of agree with whatever he has to say. The most ridiculous thing that I found about this budget was "Why should I pay 10 rupees as tax for withdrawing 10000rs?" If the only reason for that is zeroing in on black money....then PC please wake up, people do not keep their black money in their bank accounts.

Fiction

2005-02-24T13:57:00.000-05:00

Hi Guys,
This is something I wrote long back and my classmates/collegmates mistook me for the Hero er... not hero...uhhh...the main character. So read on and PLEASE comment!!!!

COLOURS

"Colour! Colour! What colour do you choose?".I could hear the kids screamtheir lungs out even though I lived 4 floors away from them. The kidsin my building are at their noisily best when they play this game. The objective of the game is that the catcher yells out a color and therest clutch to things that matches the colour yelled out by thecatcher. If you fail to get hold of anything of that colour, you willbe the next catcher. Well folks this simple little game caused me oneof the most unpleasant experiences of my life. So here is what happened on that fateful day.It was just like any other normal weekend. I woke up late in themorning and went out to the balcony to read the newspaper. I saw theSTAR BUZZ column by Rosie Marie, she warned me of an impending embarrassment. I didn't take it very seriously because the previous week she predicted that a gorgeous girl would fall in love with me. I naturally got carried away but nothing of such sort happened, instead I fell ill that week and I had a grumpy 65-year-oldretired male army doctor to treat me. So I didn't have the chance ofmeeting a girl let alone her being gorgeous. The normal weekend took a wicked twist when I decided to go out to grab something to eat fromthe nearby supermarket.On my way to the car park I saw a stunningly beautiful girl., She introduced herself as Sherin and told me that she was new to thebuilding and was going to occupy the flat opposite to mine. I was overjoyed and thought that there was perhaps some truth about these astro predictions. It just takes a some time for these predictions to come true.So what, if it didn't happen the previous week. I want results and wouldn't mind they weren't quick. I tried to put a very sincere look on my face and told her that she could count on me for any help that would be required. She thanked me and went towards her car and I was walking towards mine.Suddenly there was a big commotion, the attention of all the kids was riveted on me. They started running towards me,they were charging down the car park like a raging bull. They were perilously close and Iwasn't sure whether to stand there or run. Through the corner of eye Isaw Sherin still in the car park. I can't let her see a bunch of kids scaring me away, so I stood there like Russel Crowe in the amphitheater a.k.a Gladiator, not sure what to expect. All the kids yelled BLACK!! and caught hold of my hand. There was one lone kid standing on the other end of the car park yelling NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR!I was totally confused and couldn't quite understand the sequence of events that unfolded in the past few minutes. I heard some one laughing and turned around. It was Sherin she was moving towards the boy standing alone. She consoled him saying that there is no harm in being the catcher again and reminded him that it was just a game. Iwas just thinking of how sweet she was with children and that's when it hit me like lightning, catcher......black......just a game.....oh no! it all made sense to me. These little insensitive brats categorized me as a black object because of my dark complexion.Sherin was walking towards me and I tried my best to conceal the embarrassed look on my face. It was a game and since Sherin was new to the building she wouldn't know what it was all about and why the children came running towards me shouting black. So in effect there was no damage done. She then said, "Manu is a very sensitive boy andhe gets disappointed very easily." I gave her a blank look. She then quickly added "Oh, how foolish of me, Manu is my son, the boy.....uhh...who is the catcher."She pointed to the direction of the kids. I slowly recuperated from the second blow that she dealt me.
The gorgeous girl who was supposed to fall in love with me turns out to be a married woman who has a 7-year-old son. I gave her another blank stare and quickly opened the door of my car. She giggled and then said "These Kids!!! (deadly! if you picture the radiant smile that accompanied these words) There is a black Mercedes standing just right next to them and they run to you instead." That was the final blow. I lost my appetite. I was humiliated by a bunch of kids, the lady who was supposed to love me, tells me about her sensitive son and then reminds me that I beat a gleaming black Mercedes for the "Blackest Thing In the Building Award". Since that fateful day I have realized that astrology predictions work only on alternate weeks. I sat inside the car and bid good bye to Sherin and went for a long drive.

Penguin....here I come!

2005-02-23T13:36:00.000-05:00

Long long ago, I took a course called Digital Enterprise which was offered by the college of management. The prof demonstrated the use of stat counters to effectivel analyze your webstats in order to improve your E-Business. So the entrepreneur that I am, I have decided to use a free counter offered by www.statcounter.com . It looks really cool....I have so far received 55 unique hits, not much but I am going to do a massive marketing campaign to push my numbers up. My detractors have dampened my spirits by saying that 55 may not be right as some people can access my blog from different computers. Why am I doing all this? good question....a friend pointed out that someone from penguin was blog hopping and was so impressed by a blog that he/she gave the author a contract. So if harper collins/penguin/maybe even NCERT(if I plan to write that text book for second graders on this blog) visit my blog and look at how popular my blog is they would offer me a contract too. NCERT people blog hopping...yeah very slim chances.Hey Chith...I can see that smirk on your face....wipe it off. Yeah, I know vain hopes....but no harm in dreaming.

Five Musketeers

2005-02-20T21:55:00.000-05:00

When you are a poor grad student you tend to remember all the different transactions that takes place on the home front. The electricity bill, phone bill, rent, cable...groceries the list is endless. Ever since I landed here I have become an expert qith the 45, 44 and 43 tables...(tables: math remember 2*1=2,2*2=4). I have become very careful with money.....and my dad was overjoyed to hear this (yeah after 24,000 dollars down the drain, he ought to). But there is this one particular transaction that I can never forget. It was last summer, the Indian student Association oraganized a picnic to a lake nearby. One guy...lets call him X didnt have any money on him. We learnt that boating would cost 5 dollars per person. So X borrowed 5 dollars from me. As X was a respectable PhD student(a Dr. in front of your name you automatically command respect from slimy earthlings like me) and a very good friend of mine. I didn't mind giving him the money because you can't get nicer guys than him.
I wasn't in the mood for boating...pay 5 dollars and you do your own rowing gimme a break. So I went home. The next morning I met X at the bus stop....we were discussing about the picnic and about the desi chicks coming for the fall sem. He even let me in on the ingenious idea of how committee memebers encouraged girls to send a snap of themselves in the pretext of making identification easier in the pickup process(to all prospective women graduate students and boyfriendsof prospective women graduate students...beware....ISA is not all honey and sugar, there are some smart devils too). We boarded the bus and thats when I realized that I didnt bring my wallet. Shit...I had to work till 5pm what am I gonna do for lunch. Thats when I looked at X with a relief. X will bail me out...who in the world told that lending money spoils a friendship. I have to be a little careful here X is a good friend of mine so I can't just point blank ask him " Hey man give me my 5 bucks". So I tried to drop subtle hints. You gotta do certain things with class. So we sat next to each other on the bus and I started off my hinting mission.
Me: "So X, that was lovely picnic you guys organized"
X:"50 ppl turned up...last year it was just 20"
Me thinking....hmm so many jobless people in town
Me:"Wow, thats great!"
X nodding his head in acknowledgement
Me:"So, X how was the boating"
X:"It was really cool! reminded me of my final year trip to Kodai"
Me thinking....X dude 'boating' 'picinic' doesnt it make any sense....maybe it was a little too subtle...poor guys is a researcher we need to make things more obvious....patience!!
Me:"Oh so you went boating in Kodai"
X:"No, I didn't, my girlfriend was a little afraid so I had to stay back...you know moral support...but all the other guys had real fun....so kinduv made up for all the lost fun yesterday"

Me:"But charging 5 dollars was outrageous...dont you think so...it wasn't even a motor boat"
Me thinking....this was very obvious...... one five dollar bill will do...even five one dollar bills will do...I will take them in quarters dimes or nickels....just give it to me....
X:" No...not exactly...in Lake xyz they charge 7 man...so this is a little cheaper...any ways there is no fun in a motor boat....rowing, the physical excercise thats what is needed man"
Me thinking.....thats it man...I shamelessly went to the next level I mentioned '5' 'ticket' 'boating' you still dont remember
I was quiet for sometime and pretended to read the paperback that I had in hand.
X: "Hey what book is that?"
Me: "The three musketeers..."
X:" I saw the movie, it sucked...charlie sheen was in it, total crap"
Me thinking...hey wait a minute I have an idea
Me:"X you know, researchers found out that the original draft of the book have FIVE..F I V E musketeers and not three as originally believed....it seems the book was very long and the editor chopped 2 characters to make it shorter"
Me thinking...Dude come on Alexander Dumas will walk out of his grave and kill me if I continue any more....gimme my money!!!
X: "Strange man...these guys do all kinds of research.....Ok man gottago this is my stop I gotta get down and do some serious research...or else my prof will whoop my ass"
I had a very disappointed look on my face
Me:"I will get off work at FIVE pm...cya then" Yeah I didnt have lunch that day...... I have stopped trying the 'classy' bit....and decided to be as ruthless as my community(chettiars.......baniya in Hindi).
gee FIVE minutes to 10

Chew on this

2005-02-19T00:52:00.000-05:00

"Saving is the best thing, especially if your parents have done it for you"-Anonymous

Sounds familiar!!!

GoD..er GooD OnE!

2005-02-13T18:50:00.000-05:00

A little kid asks his father, "Daddy, is God a man or a woman?"
"Both son. God is both."
After awhile the kid comes again and asks, "Daddy, is God black or white?"
"Both son, both."
"Daddy, does God love children?"
"Yes son, he loves all children."
The child comes running back a few minutes later and says, "Daddy, I know who God is"
The dad gets perplexed, " And who would that be Son?"
The kid beamed and replied "Michael Jackson!!"

:D

Statutory Warning: A very long piece

2005-02-12T12:17:00.000-05:00

I am working on a project with an Amru girl. She works for IBM and is a part time M.S student. While she was dropping me home, we had a conversation about alcohol. She was shocked to hear that I have never ever tasted alcohol in my life...(actually I lied...I had a glass of champagne....but I completely forgot about it.....). She then told me that she used to booze and party a lot like any other normal undergrad a coupluv years back. But, she got scared after graduating because she didn't know what to do next. She was working part time at restaurants and hotels and finally at some point she decided to pursue a masters and she kinduv stopped drinking.During her second semester she was offered a job by IBM. So working and studying keeps her very busy and if at all she has the time it is just for the occasional beer. She then told me of the days when she worked at a hotel where she had all the time in the world to do all kinds of stuff. It seems there were a lot of guys who used to smoke POT, so she desperately tried to like smoking POT :) in order to hang out with these "cool" guys. So no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make herself to smoke POT. She quit her job after a couple of months and she considers that to be a turning point in her life. Because if she just continued working in that hotel she would have never thought of doing her Masters.Now, people this is what she had to say, and I do know of scores of intelligent people who drink, smoke and also know what their priorities in life are.
But, one thing that I had to agree with her is the fact that 'you force yourself to do things that you feel uncomfortable with just so that other people think highly of you or rather dont think lowly of you'. Do psychologists call this the acceptance syndrome....I guess another word for it is peer pressure. Why do people always feel the need to be accepted by the society. We have always given names to people who do not conform to what we perceive as the 'so called' normal way of living....nomads,gypsies,hippies...tribals. If they like to live in a hut with no electricity killing animals for food....let them do it. Do you really have to bring in the missionaries to educate them about God ( a concept which people debate about in the civilized world) and make them civil. Isn't that called intrusion of privacy. How would we feel if the tribals came into the city and tried to make us live their life.Thank God, we are a majority, I just cannot picture my self wearing a designer leaf skirt with a bow hungrily waiting for my meal of human kebab. And, I am sure they would feel out of place too. Just like the animals in circuses and zoos. I Saw a movie called employee of the month.....where the protaganist a highschool dropout who successfuly cons himself into a job as an investment banker with a big bank...he says something to this effect(forgot the exact dialogue) "I just saw this man on the street, with a good suit an amazing car.....I bet he would have had a great house and a beautiful wife.....then I just thought for a minute.......what would it take to become like him......thats when I decided to build a fake resume and apply for this job....I tried to become someone that I was not.....I have everything....just like that man on the street....but its not me....I am not happy". I thought that to be the only sensible thing in an otherwise crappy movie.
I guess you can term someone a failure only if he himself regrets about what he is doing for a living . If the guy enjoys his job as a mechanic then he has really made it big in life.I guess I borrowed this from thalai(read Rajini). I am not entirely happy with what I am doing now.....lessee if I can change that.

Cancer

2005-02-09T04:04:00.000-05:00

I just found out a relative of mine had breast cancer. It seems he was having a growth in his breast region for the past few years. He thought it was harmless and moreover breast cancer in men was a very rare occurence. But, tests revealed it to be cancerous. He is going to undergo chemotherapy and I hope every thing works out well. Lately there has been a spate of illness occuring to my near and dear ones. I just pray to God that he keeps everyone healthy and makes sure that we eat three times a day.
But, for some odd reason...this news did not affect me very much. Was it because he was just a relative and not immediate family. Have I become so selfish and cruel?Sometimes I hate myself for being insensitive. I remember people crying at a fueneral, there was this other incident where a cousin of mine got seriously injured in an accident....very painful....but I just didn't feel anything. I was sad but I don't think that I felt the pain as the others did. Why am I like this....why can't I just cry?

joke da machhan

2005-02-04T09:54:00.000-05:00

Back in college....when people cracked "yucky" jokes....they would get an immediate rejoinder "Joke da machhan" followed by mocking laughter...and the poor guy who cracked the joke just felt like getting out of that place.
So...after taking you through all that crap....I wanted to share a really a good joke which my ASIC Design prof cracked in class. He is a really cool guy, he knows how boring a 1hr 15 minute class can be so halfway through the class he tries to lighten up everyone by cracking a joke. The joke in the first class was quite unbearable, I preferred looking at the monstrous chips he had to show in class rather than listening to that joke. But unexpectedly last week the joke he cracked was truly funny.

My prof was a Captain with the Australian Army way back in 1991. So this is an Army joke....

" There is this regiment which have set up camp near the enemy lines. They had a really brave captain as the commanding officer. One fine day, a sergeant comes to the Captain hurriedly and shouts out..."Captain, Captain....a unit comprising of 100 enemy soldiers and a tank are approaching our camp sir"
The captain was calm and unruffled and he told the sergeant...." Sergeant, prepare our men and get my red coat." And the captain and his men defeat the enemy
A week went by and the sergeant walked in again and told the captain......."Captain, Captain....a unit comprising of a 500 enemy soldiers with assault rifles, machine guns and grenades along with 3 tanks are approaching our camp sir"
The captains reply was the same " Sergeant, prepare our men and get my red coat."
The cap and his men win again
At this point the sergeant was curious to know why the captain wanted to wear the red coat before every fight and so he asks the captain.....The captain replied "Sarge, the reason why I wear the red coat is that even if get shot, I don't want our men to notice it. i dont want my men tp get demoralized, I want them to fight with passion and vigor"
The sergeant was moved and saluted the captain and retired to bed.
The next day the sergent calmly walked to the captain " Sir the enemy this time around has sent out 3 platoons of soldier, 2 battalions of tanks, 10 attack helicopters....Shall I go and get your red coat sir?"
The captains answer was "GET ME MY BROWN PANTS!!!!"

Pearls of Wisdom

2005-02-03T09:25:00.000-05:00

This is something that my friend Sriramakrishnan Srinivasan...(well if you call that a long name, here is how my roomies name goes Allampalayam Jayaraman Kannan)...Ok coming to the point, Sriram wrote something that touched a chord with many of my friends.

Hi Guys,
I was just reflecting the other day about times at VIT and life in general and I must say I came up with some very self probing and revealing insights.How many of us remember the times we were at VIT when gangs of people would get together and there would be general talks on how we fromVIT would not stand a chance in the big bad world! I must say we have not done badly for ourselves and there's no reason to not be optimistic. Just take a look at the profiles of the people on this group ! Now many of us still dont have jobs and are still to earn a penny but IMHO thats not an indication of success. Often times the pursuit of a dream and happiness is more fulfilling than the destination which will always be a step distant but I belive we areall getting there in out own little ways.There is however only one thing that bothers me. I call it the "Comfort Zone Syndrome ". I do belive that many of my friends from VIT are short charging themselves ( as I have done in the past ) bynot taking calculated risks. Often a risk must be taken head on. But the Indian and general mentality is to always have a "concrete" backup plan. However, more often than not, this concrete back up planbecomes the comfort zone and the original plan is forgotten.How many of us (either on this forum or friends we can think of)promised ourlseves that we would "eventually" do that thing of ourdreams - and that the job/ temporary occupation/ course was just astop gap/ back up plan?Perhaps I am being unrealistic.But its just that I always belivedthat there were many in VIT who had real potential with theintelligence. And I have tried always to push them on the path theydread - the path of risk. No journey is without risk.What I would request of members of this forum therefore - if youremember a friend from VIT (or indeed from anywhere) who one daytold you his dream (perhaps under the influence of alcohol in RiverView :) and if he has forgotten about it - then plese do this - fireup a browser and write him a mail. This could change someone's life.Its nice to see some people on this forum whom I have not met in awhile. Isnt it surprising that its almost 2 years since we left college!To round off - my only fear for those who have not taken the bigplunges yet - will we have the courage to tread the path of fear?Because in time many will have a wife and children ;) Risk takingwill definitely not come naturally then if it has not already.

Regards Sriram

Well he mentions about people not having jobs...thats because half of the guys are working on their way to a Phd or a M.S. but I guess the general feeling right now is whether we really want that Phd...I mean you are too sure of something 10 minutes back and you already start doubting yourself now. I guess thats how life is

Safin reminds me of Goran

2005-01-27T10:27:00.000-05:00

The first thing that I ever do once I get myself near a comp. is to check out the Australian Open results. Never missed watching a slam since 1989. But all that changed once the rigors of higher education gets to you. Four years in the hostel so most of the tennis came through Nirmal Shekhar and The Hindu. And, for the past two years I atleast got to watch the US open and Wimbledon on TV. So, Safin beat Federer 5-7 6-4 5-7 7-6 (8-6) 9-7.........it took some time to sink in and bear in mind this is your average couch potato whose only form of excercise comes through moving the mouse. I think Safin might feel like that he won the Australian open itself. Well why all this hullaboo? Federer in his current form is like a grave digger with a racquet instead of a spade for the other players on the tour. Pure genius, I remember reading an article which called him the Mozart of tennis. This guy shut out the best returner of the game...Agassi...in 3 straight sets. Ok, Agassi is 35 but still shutting him out in 3 sets requires superlative tennis. He made mince meat of Hewitt in the wimbledon final last year....If you had the chance to see the match...you would have felt sorry for Hewitt. Hewitt looked like a 14 year old atleast that was the kind of respect he got from Fed. It took 4 years for the tennis world to find the next Sampras.

I like Sampras's and Federer's game but the predictability that comes along with makes it really boring to watch. Only the McEnroe's, Goran's , Safin's and Roddick's make tennis exciting. All these guys are dynamite talent but they can play like horseshit the very next day after winning a slam. Goran is probably the classic example....a 3 time wimbledon finalist...Agassi and Sampras made sure that he remained a finalist and the best player to have never won the wimbledon. But all that changed when he was a given a wild card to play the Wimbledon in 2001. I remember watching the wimbledon 2001 semifinals where Goran was playing Henman. He was 2 sets to 1 down,with the help of The RainGods and some breathtaking tennis he was able to dispatch the eternal semifinalist of Wimbledon. Henman has a a sobriquet too...the best brit to have never been in a wimbledon final. I think this Australian open semifinal in a way reminds me of that match and Goran. Goran jokingly in a press conference said that he plays his best tennis when all the other 11 Gorans inside him agree to play. He would be a handful to anyone if all the Gorans played collectively.Safin is just like Goran, a huge serve that comes with a mercurial temper. He could pummel anyone down on his given day. But...I had my doubts....we are talking about Federer here. And this game followed the same pattern Safin was 2 sets to 1 down and came back from behind by saving 1 match point to beat Fed. But Federer saved 7 match points in the final set to hang in there...thats what happens if you havent lost to a top 10 player in the last 24 matches that you have played. All I want as a tennis fan is that if there is one God like Federer we need a dozen devils like Safin to test his genius and thats what will make Tennis exciting.

Ephedrine

2005-01-19T10:21:00.000-05:00

I think the tennis fans would know what I am going to talk about after seeing the title. Recently, the Belgian sports minister revealed that the 2004 US open Champion Svetlana Kuznetskova (I hope I spelt it right) consumed a banned substance called ephedrine. Jeez...Whats the big deal even I had ephedrine. Ok folks now dont put your hands over your mouth and think of the various correctional facilities that you could send me to for drying me out. Ephedrine is added to most of the common cold medicines for nasal decongestion. I thank God they didn't make us give dope tests after the University Exams, because I wrote most of my exams under the influence of this drug. Vellore is a dusty place and I had a perennial cold and I had to consume these cold tablets to keep me on my feet. I do not know why they make a big deal out of it. On hind sight, I did read of a side effect....it could reduce your sperm count. Yeah I was a little worried...anyway let bygones be bygones :D. Anyways for the record I have shifted out of vellore and so no more cold and no more ephedrine which means ---------

An eventful Vacation

2005-01-13T17:07:00.000-05:00

The 4 or 5 people who read this blog, please DO NOT STOP CHECKING THIS SPACE. And for people who have a little more concern towards this long lost friend...I am safe and alive.

Okay, as usual I was very happy to get a break after ages and going home doubled the excitement. Bahrain: Parents who provide you good food and clothes, a country thats warm during the winter and unlimited TV/movies/music...In short you know "the works". Vacation...aah.....Something that every Man needs to reinvent himself, Just like how every car needs overhauling.

Now there are two sides to a coin....and this side was a little too ugly for my pleasant tastes....So,What I didn't know was that, towards the fag end of my vacation I would get "THE FLU", a nasty cold and will be on antibiotics for a week. So the last week of my vacation which was supposed to be blissful turned out to be watery eyes, gooey green mucus and dry coughs. My mom painstakingly cooked day in and day out to make me fat(not that I am very thin...you know how moms are) was lost in a jiffy( hmmm...maybe I could call that a silver lining in a very grey cloud) To make matters worse BA lost my baggage and so I came home tired, hungry and underwearless(ok shirtless and pantless too). Then I had to fight with the BA'stards to locate my bag. One of the guys from BA asked me the most stupidest question ever...Sir, did you check in your baggage....Thank God I didn't spend a lot of time talking to him....Maybe he would have told me "Sir, I think all the stuff in your box don't like leaving London and they deserve a few more days of vacation and we will take good care of them".So after some investgative research through the telephone I finally found out where my bag was.Apparently the tags had come off the baggage and so it stayed back in Heathrow and BA were extremely sorry about it...the guy was trying to convince me that he really meant it. I was a little happy because I would be getting 50 dollars for every day lost and thats when the rudest of shocks awaited me. The reply from customer service personnel...thinking about it, it ought to customer irritation personnel...."Sir, As you are a resident of the United States you are not entitled to receive the 50 dollar compensation which is meant for toursits and visitors to the United Sates." Well, didn't this pig know that there is no difference between being a visitor or a resident if he has lost all his clothes . They have to wear the same smelly clothes that they wore in the wretched aircraft for the next three days. Maybe BA might have done some serious research and might have found out that the sweat glands of "RESIDENTS" manufacture some special sort of chemicals which keeps their clothes fresh for days and so they do not need any compensation and on the contrary they should appreciate BA's efforts in giving them an opportunity to excercise their incredible powers.

Ahhh...whatever...I think I should stop whining and get on with my dreary life.

A new beginning

2004-12-26T00:24:00.000-05:00

Another year gone by and it’s already 2005

Time is just like a new born-crawl, stand, walk and run- ahhh time flies

2004 started off with some well laid out plans

But, somewhere between the crawling and running they became “also ran’s”

A million things that you should have done and another mil that you wish you didn’t

However if that were the case, it would have never been fun-so bother you needn’t

As the cliché goes the optimist looks to gain and the pessimist prays that he doesn’t lose

Only if fate were as simple as hope that it lets you to pick and choose

Then there are those special few who always pray for the elusive ‘everlasting’ peace

But, what could poor God do if politicians keep wanting more cheese

Amidst all these unrealized dreams, the coming year could assure you of one thing

At the end of it will lie yet another new year- a year of hope that will make life worth living

Hara Hara Sankara!

2004-12-10T12:06:00.000-05:00

I am a very religious person and at times can be superstitious. I do certain things without questioning the reasons behind them.When you are dealing with abstract concepts like evolution and God, you either have to believe whatever is put forth by your religion or you should just walk away from it.
Whenever I hear about scandalous popes, pontiffs, acharyas, mullahs and sadgurus I get frustrated.Probably, I might be wrong on this but you can see through people when you know they are bullshitting. Its no rocket science, its just that some people notice it and some people blindly believe an individual.If you are blindly believing in God, it is perfectly alright but if you are blindly believing in a person who says that he can take you to God.....uhhh I think that is dangerous. The only people I trust closing my eyes are my family and a couple of close friends.How can you ever consider a Man in this world to sacrifice all his materialistic possessions to do God's work.
A question that has always been haunting me is , Why have an hierarchial organization for a temple with the priest or aacharya as the head? Aren't all these people supposed to recite vedas and deliver the world of its agony by performing their austere pujas. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Why not leave the adminstrative side of the affairs to an MBA, economist, banker or some jack who knows how to manage people and money? But, the saint who leaves all his belongings for a cause is made to work through a ladder in saintdom and once he reaches the top he is given the title of head priest, paramacharya, pope etc...He gets to control the entire organization, he gets to be the HR manager, the Financial director, CEO and VC and like any true businessman its not even his money. They leave the materialistic world because of the lust, greed, power and the violence which deters them from their path to Godhead. But, what they do not realize is that they are again going to be a given a ladder to climb and they are again going to be drawn to the material trappings which they so desparately want to forsake.
Why does a kid who is not even 13 becomes a sanyasi. Is that not equivalent to child marriage. Doesn't the child have a say? Won't the child have aspirations? A kid reaching adoloscence is thrust into the holy world of rigid doctrines and principles. Will this kid ever get to talk about girls and all the strange physical changes that his body is going through with his friends. The only way that I got to know a little about the opposite sex and how babies are made was through my friends. A country like India where everything is taboo, even, a kid with a normal upbringing has to learn these things by watching blue films or reading porn books. What if these kids get to watch masochistic sex , they might end up thinking that beating your partner to pulp is the only way you can sexually gratify her!!!! I think I am digressing here. My point is the reason why we have all these sex scandals are because these Godmen are thrust into something at an early age when they are not comfortable with their own sexuality. Only when a man has seen all the phases of life should he be considered for sainthood.Probably when he is about 50 or so. There is no point in calling these guys creepy bastards, replacing them and throwing them in jail. Iam sure the replacement will equal his predecessor in all parameters. There is no point in being shocked when you hear that the bishop slept with altar boys...for all you know the bishop might have thought its a normal occurence in his boring life. The victimised altar boy might be the next bishop who thinks that homosexuality is normal. Religion should continue to remain selfless service to the Lord and his people and not a confused individual with absolute authority who can do whatever he desires.

The Last 'Project, Exam, Report, Presentation & Demonstaration'

2004-12-08T21:53:00.000-05:00

Well folks, I completed my last 'Engineering' exam yesterday. And as for the other things that were mentioned on the caption....I got a whole two weeks to get them finished which explains my absence on blogspot.

Hmm...the discerning reader would have noticed the stress applied to the word Engineering :D. I have completed my required engineering credits for my Masters program. Therefore, I will never ever have to sit in front of a computer working on meaningless circuits and programs but will rather have the pleasure of job scouting on the wild wide web.

I promised my project mates that if I get an opportunity I would voice my team's concerns regarding the project to our ECE746 instructor.
Our Concerns
1. Projects should be problems that should have a solution, and it should be possible for an individual to solve it within a given time frame without killing himself.
2. After the completion of project you should get a sense of elation rather than relief. Well the feeling we got was "ahhhhhhh, the wretched thing is over"
3. A project should help stimulate your intellectual juices rather than give you a feeling of impotency. More importantly it should not make you think of changing professions...well to be honest I was thinking of an early retirement.

Ok I can never be so brutally honest to my Professor as he is yet to assign grades for the course.If you happen to pass through our lab and if you get to hear conversations like...

Hey dude that looks really hot....an awesome lay. man?Did you finger it man?
A girl might ask you probing questions like how long is it?
Woohoo! sweet mother of God 100,90 and 0.2009

Ok readers this is not a room with porn nodels in it, but this is a room with very smart layout designers(I am the only exception) and these are some questions that they ask each other. Let me transalate these lines for the folks who are fortunate enough to not know the V of VLSI. Cadence is a software tool that is extensively used for designing chips in the hardware industry. So the questions usually are like....How long is the chip? Lay means layout design for your circuit...layout is a semiconductor level representation of all the elements in your circuit. Fingering your layout...means a unique structure that would improve your efficiency.And the 100,90,0.2009 is the length,width and density of your design and not an over weight person with insect like legs.

Ok.... Ok wake up....I don't want this to be transistors101 for you guys. It was a frustrating 2 weeks and I am glad it is over but strangely I don't feel as happy as I used to when I was in high school. When the last of your exams were over in school all you had to think was what you were going to do for the break, catch up on all the movies that you missed and think of all the TV shows that you would watch. But, once you grow older, you are glad that the semester is over but you do have a feeling of 'What next?'. A small sense of inscurity, whether your plan of work will be approve, whether you will get a job?, whether you will get that elusive H1b...if worse becomes worst will you get a good job back home? A lot of questions run through your mind. But, I guess for now I will leave everything to God and get a few hours of sleep that I very much deserve.

Here w'EGO'

2004-11-19T14:25:00.000-05:00

ego
Pronunciation: 'E-(")gO also 'eg-(")O
Function: noun
Inflected Form: plural egos
Meaning: Too little of it means that you dont have any self esteem and too much of it means that you are a pompous pig.

Errr....ok thats not a standard websters or an oxford definition of ego but its something that yours truly came up with after his 23 years of existence on planet earth.

I was just talking to this friend(ok thats carrying it a little too far...... someone whom I studied with for 4 years) of mine. She is a 'scientist' in ISRO now. The conversation started of like this:

X: Hey Long time no see
Me: Yeah how r u doing?
X: I am doing fine
X: actually Work is killing me you know
Me: Uh...same here..too much home work
X: Homework! oh yeah what r u doing?
Me: Masters in Electrical
X:sheesh! but do you like doing that
X: I mean its completely unrelated to what you did in your undergrad
On seeing that I was desperately trying control my temper. Thank God this was on messenger and not not face to face.
Me: Uh... well... yeah, X but over here everything from robotics to signal processing to control engineering getsclubbed into the EE program. So its pretty much a continuation from where I left.
X: Oh, thats good! but I personally feel that you can understand a lot of things only when you work in the real world. You know what I mean
Ok thats it She has gone way off the mark. Gritting my teeth, I was in two minds to just close the window.I didn't type anything for a while.
X: Hey...U there! Helloooooooo
Me: Uh yeah yeah I am there. I know what you mean. A job has its own pluses.
X: Yeah. Like I was saying ISRO is planning to send me to all the ISRO centres in India
Me: Hmm what for
X: They want me to do a study on how cryogenic instrumentation is used ina ll these centres
(Me Thinking...Cryogenicaaaa ok sounds too technical for my tiny brain...anyway I am not going to say 'WOW!!! way to go, cryogenic and all amazing'......I am going to be as indifferent as possible)
Me: Thats interesting! so when are you leaving
X: Uh in a month or so.
Me: Are you going alone or are there a group of trainee engineers.
X: Trainee Engineers!!! I am not a trainee engineer
X: I am a scientist, a gazetted officer. I can put an official stamp with my rubber seal and endorse legal documents
Me: Uh I am terribly sorry. I assumed that you were a trainee engg
X:No I am not

I could sense how furious she was . I have to play it safe here. She would probably ask Kalam to loan her a nuclear warhead using her ISRO credentials and shoot it straight at me.

Me: Well thats quite an acheivement X
X: You know its very difficult to get into ISRO. You guys did not even reply to my email

Well...what she is refering to here is the fact that she emailed everyone saying that she got into ISRO but only a couple of us congratulated her and I was one among them.

Me: Well I dont know about the rest but I replied to your email promptly.
X:You replied to Suresh when he said he was going to Australia.
(Me Thinking...what in the world is wrong with this female!!!)
Me: Uh I replied to your email too. I am sorry if it did not reach you. Anyways my hearty congratulations.
X: Thats ok. You know ISRO is going to sponsor my Mtech in Cryogenic instrumentation
Me: Oh thats super
X:You know where I will be doing it?
Me: No
X: IIT Madras

After hearing that let me assure you, I was absolutely not jealous but neither did I feel happy for her. I usually do, when I hear things of this sort. But I don't know the whole conversation irked me and I could only think of ways to politely end this chat session. X, I have a big boil on my behind and the doctor has advised me not to sit in one place for a long time...ummm what if she asks me to stand and type...well she is definitely capable of doing that. X, you overstuffed toad with a king...er queen sized ego....Get lost....uhhh well that would be a little too rude.X, I have an early morning class tomorrow and its 1 am now I have to sleep.Cya later.....ahh now thats more like it.Jeez I never had thoughts like this since 9th standard when I wanted to desperately sit out of my Maths exam and finally had to act as if I had a severe case of stomach ache coupled with dysentry.

Me: Well awesome
X: Yeah I know
Me: X I have an early morning class tomorrow and its 1 am now I have to sleep.Cya later
X: I am very happy that I am in ISRO because I am able to work in something which I am comfortable at. You know I worked as a programmer in CTS but did not enjoy it at all.

I was almost about to type Lady, didn't you hear me!!!!!! Thankfully the Lord heard my prayers and I saw those relieving words appear on screen.

X: Oh ok nice talking to you, even I have some work. I have to type up a report for an important ISRO research project.
Me: Oh, ok . Cya later

Well, I logged out of yahoo messenger immediately but I was still thinking of people and their 'empire state' ego's. But the irony was if I didn't have one I shouldn't have felt anything odd about this conversation. I should have just listened to whatever she said, but I think I can safely categorize myself somewhere between being that pompous pig with a bloated ego and the person who considers himself inconsequential.

No Man's Land

2004-11-12T13:12:00.000-05:00

Does the phrase ring a bell? Ok the phrase is actually the title of a movie based on the Bosnian crisis and more importantly from a desi perspective, beat Lagaan for the Oscar.

There are not many movies that occupies your thoughts long after they get over. Only the special ones manage to do that and this is one movie which falls into that category. If I were on the Oscar jury, I would have definitely cast my vote for this movie rather than Gowariker's Lagaan.

Ok enough said about how good the movie is. Now let's get to the plot.

A Bosnian platoon is bombed heavily by the Serbian artillery division as they walk towards a trench located between the Serbian and Bosnian fences. Only two Bosnians survive the onslaught. Ciki (Branko Djuric) gets shot in the shoulder but he manages to get into the trench. Ciki's friend Cera also survives but barely, he is badly injured and unconscious. The Serbian camp are not sure whether they killed all the Bosnians, so, they send two of their soldiers to go to the trench and check if there are any survivors. The Serbian commander walks into the mess and asks for two volunteers but no one acknowledges his presence, they all have a smirk on their faces and resume eating.The director captures the mood of the Serbian camp brillantly-they are a tired lot who just want to go home and get on with their life. The irritated commander picks two guys, Mustafa Naderevic an experienced soldier and Nino a green horn (who just joined camp that very day) for the task. Nino and Mustafa reluctantly crawl towards the trench, on seeing them Ciki hides. He patiently watches the two Serbian soldiers rummaging through the trench searching for survivors. Mustafa concludes that everyone is dead and gets hold of some bouncing mines from a bag. He then goes on about expounding his worldly wisdom on bombs and mines to young Nino. Mustafa thinks that Cera(the other Bosnaian survivor) is dead and plants a mine beneath Cera's body. He then proudly tells Nino of his cynical booby trapping capabailities. Meanwhile, Ciki manages to get hold of a gun and comes out in the open and shoots Nino and Mustafa. Mustafa dies but Nino gets shot in the abdomen and loses a lot of blood.

So there are two Bosnians and one Serbian stuck in no mans land and to make things worse one guy has a mine underneath him and if he moves everyone in the vicinty gets blown away. They have no one to trust, no way to escape without getting shot.The film takes a satirical view from the perspective of a Bosnian, Serbian, the media and the UN peace keepers.It is amazing how the director Tanovic has managed to shed light on an unbearably tense issue with a comic and satiric undertone. I do not want narrate the rest of the story as it would be really boring to read all the detail. But every frame in the movie is soaked with angst, helplessness, hope and bitterness. It reminded me of Animal Farm by George Orwell.

There is this one scene where Ciki asks Cera how he is feeling. Cera's answer " I am feeling great, I was shot and I lost consciousness, whan I wake up I have a fucking mine beneath me , I want to shit but I can't move and inspite of all this I have to listen to your bullshit"
Cera played by Filip Sovagovic does not move an inch the whole movie but the range of emotions he manages to convey is laudable. Sample this, he wants to scratch his lower back and so he asks Ciki to do it for him.
Cera:" lower, yeah...oooh...aah a little higher...yeah there...yeah thats the spot oooh aah"
Ciki(dutifuly scratching Cera)
Cera: " Hey Ciki I need to use the toilet "
Ciki(perplexed): "Uh ok piss in your pants"
Cera:"No its the other"
Ciki(immediately stops scratching Cera):" Ok do it"
Cera(sighs):"Its easy for you to say"

Here is a guy who has to wallow in his own shit because of a stupid and meaningless war. The United Nations peace keeping forces will not do anything because they do not want to be undimplomatic and as always the instruction given to their soldiers is "Sit on it!"

Hats off to Tanovic to make a film that is blackly satirical and hauntingly real!

Have you been shoe checked? Ok another way to rephrase that....."Welcome to America remove your shoes, belt uhh you can have your pants on"

2004-11-09T02:02:00.000-05:00

Why are American immigration officials/Customs people so rude? I have travelled to a lot of places before, particularly the middle east and it is always horrendous because Arabs generally dont have a high regard for Indians or anyone brown or black for that matter. I always thought that things would be different in America or the UK because the people there are atleast a little broad minded. But I guess you just cannot make such premises without experiencing things first hand.

Once when My father and I had to transit via Dahran,Saudi Arabia we were shocked by the way an immigration official in the Airport talked to us. He first asked me and my dad to hand our passports and made us sit in a corner. The guy then just disappeared with the passport then resurfaced back after a couple of minutes without it. My dad always is very nervous when it comes to passports and he simply could not fathom the reason why they had to take away the passports if we were just transiting through the Dahran International Airport. So when the guy came back without the passport my dad went over to him and asked him where our passports were and why it was taken. The guy stared coldly at my dad and told him that he should speak only if he was spoken to. My dad just lost it but there was no point screaming at this doofus and especially in a country like Saudi Arabia, you will not be surprised if they will pronounce you guilty and chop your hands off.

Something similar happened to a History professor named Ramachandra Guha. He was on his way to Berkley from Toronto to deliver a lecture. He was on a B1 visa which entitles him to receive a paycheck for 9 days at a time in upto 5 universities. But, the immigration official on seeing his VISA and the letter of invitation from berkley (which had his remuneration) told him that "you get paid so much for teaching HISTORY!, how is that possible?You cannot get paid on this VISA" and refused him entry. This history professor received an apology letter from UC Berkley which stated

expressing shock at "such discriminatory and unjustified exclusion", and anger at the "terrible injustice you had to endure... [from] these cretins". "Don’t give up on us. Hopefully, there will be a new president elected on Tuesday." I write this on Monday, but I fear that even if John Kerry wins, the paranoia towards the foreigner shall persist.

There was this biologist called Haldane way back in 1960 who was also requested to deliver a lecture in Columbia Univ. but refused a VISA as he refused to "name all the organisations of which you are or have been a member of affiliate since your 16th birthday (with inclusive dates)"

His reply was very interesting,

I do not know when I joined the Association of Scientific Workers or the anti-fascist front, or whatever. This visa form is unworthy of the land of the free and the brave.If I wished to blow up the Empire State Building or subvert the Republican Party I should doubtless be willing to sign false statements. But I happen to have a professional prejudice in favour of the truth.... It seems to be ridiculous that a great country like yours (or rather its government) should be so frightened of what I can do as to make such demands.

I just wish had the balls like Haldane did. But, I did quiver when they asked me to remove my shoes for the first time.. But I have taken a vow that I will express my displeasure if anything unreasonable was expected of me instead of just meekly submitting myself to their authority.

IQ and Elections

2004-11-07T09:59:00.000-05:00

People voted for Bush's "Morals" and "Strong stance adopted towards Iraq"
and his "Unwavering foreign and domestic policies". Morals = Anti Gay
Marriages and Anti abortion but Morals != Thousands of Iraqis and
foreigners being killed,mercilessly executed or tortured in Iraq beacuse
of one man's madness.So will they vote for anyone who just remains steadfast
in killing people and going to war?Well that was the feeling in my campus
atleast. I liked Moore's comment."The best thing about this election is
Bush cannot be reelected next time...phew!"

Here is an excerpt from an article

*****To mourn the triumph of George Bush—and make no mistake, it is a
triumph—would be an insult to the American people and American democracy.
The world's most powerful, affluent, intellectually robust, innovative
nation has elected a president much of the free world loathes.****

I find this a common trait the writer her mentions "Intellectualy robust".
I have interacted with quite a few international students who have
expressed the same thing....they always compare the American IQ to Bush's
uhh to pleasantly put 'comparitively lower IQ' just to emphasize the fact
that a country which has some of the best minds in the world have voted
for Bush. So this satistician Chris Evans puts things in perspective.
Maybe the bright people did vote for Kerry(the lesser of two evils...by no
means do I consider Kerry an ideal President but definitely he could have
been a better alternative)

To sum up one more article that gives you an idea about how BUSH-VOL.2 is
going to be like. A prologue of sorts by Seema Sirohi, Outlook

*****Will Bush finally begin building bridges around the world? The jury
is still out but the first news conference of the chosen one was not
encouraging. Bush declared he would work with all those "who share our
goals." In other words, "you are with us or against us." He boasted how
the "people’s will" was behind him (after four years of acting without it)
and the "political capital" he had collected. It didn’t sound like he was
turning a new leaf either on his domestic agenda or his foreign policy
projects.And Cheney and the neoconservatives have not shown signs of
mellowing either with experience or age. They see this victory -- by no
means a mandate because 55 million voted for Kerry -- as a vindication.
Danielle Pletka, of the American Enterprise Institute which serves as
Cheney’s brain trust, calmly declared a day after Bush’s reelection that
"force might be the only option" for Iran.

If this is the flavour of Bush II, not only Iran, but all others may want
to tread gently. The world is now faced with a hyper power struggling
internally with two visions/versions of itself while charting a course
that many fear. Yes, the bad dream got an extended run.******

On a personal note I am still recovering from the fact that my university
is not contributing too many bright people to the society.(Average IQ of
North Carolinians= 93). I have my doubts though, maybe coming to think
of it, quite possible because this thing was done before I joined State.

One more interesting article that compares the IQ levels of states and
the poll results by a satistician Chris Evans.
http://chrisevans3d.com/files/iq.htm

You can find a comaprative chart about Bush states and their IQ's Kerry
States and their IQ's. the results are as expected folks ;).

VLSI...Halloween

2004-11-02T02:27:00.000-05:00

Sorry couldn't think of a title more descriptive than this.

So, this weekend was the Halloween weekend where I got to see a lot of drunk chicks with skimpy clothes parading on Franklin Street , Chapel Hill . Some of them lost clothes by the hour(depending on how drunk they were) A lot of funny things happened in the parade. Some of the guys dressed themselves as Arabs/Osama (couldn't actually make out...hey it takes a lot of effort to switch your attention from attractive girls doing their sultry gyrations). These guys started mumbling something which was supposed to be Arabic and then they started shout Kerry Edwards and then part that I wished never happened....they started stripping....I am talking buck naked here. Once they were down to nothing they started jumping up and down singing something....then all of the sudden a guy dressed like bush starts chasing naked Osama and the crowd starts yelling.....I just moved out of the place as fast as I could. The most striking thing was a guy dressed up like Gandhi...I dunno what made him to.....but if he wanted to stand out from the crowd he CERTAINLY did..

Very Large Scale Integrated System Design is killing me. The last weekend was spent on drawing layouts of horrible transistors using the horrid Cadence tool. Sometimes during this excercise you would feel like a kid being shown MS Paint for the first time rather than a circuit designer. All you need is truck loads of patience and the amazing ability to pick and place things at an agonizingly slow pace. Yesterday night I had this really weird dream of a guy who wore a costume made of transistors designed by me....he has a plug coming out from his butt(hmmm Yeah that could have been a design flaw...hey after all I am human in my dreams too)....he holds the plug in his hands and yell at me...."Hey! If this thing screws up I ain't gonna look pretty." He plugs it into the socket ..... the whole thing goes kaboom and he gets electrocuted...he screams in pain and gives me a very disappointed look.

The effects of halloween and VLSI are taking a toll on my fragile body. Therefore I have decided to sleep for a solid 10 hours to neutralize the effects.

My first Football game!!!

2004-10-26T00:36:00.000-04:00

This weekend was a pretty hectic one. But, as usual I did manage to postpone my work and have some fun. Its' been close to 16 months since I landed in America and I had a lot of 'first experiences' in this time frame but the one that happened this weekend was an enjoyable one. It was a college football game between my university N.C.State and Univ of Miami. Well, we lost and very badly that too(45-31) but nonetheless it was enjoyable. I wouldn't have been very happy if the side I supported lost a cricket game...... I saw the Indo-Pak test at Chennai where we lost by a whisker....the game was enjoyable but it HURT. So I guess that clearly gives you a picture of how patriotic I am towards State.
Well I always hated the American concept of holding a world championship within their own country where their own states participated for the WOOOORLD CUP! So I always had this prejudiced opinion about American Football. A bunch of clowns who think they are gladiators and enter an arena filled with drunk yelling bums waiting for some blood to be spilled out there in the middle and are glad its not their own. Foot ball on TV in India was very confusing with no one around to explain the rules, all I got to see was guys falling on each other over that strange looking thing which they termed as a 'football' (I could never associate that queer looking thing with a ball...still can't). But, all that changed when I saw my first game over here the very first week I landed. It was NC state vs Ohio State, we lost again but it was an amazing game that stretched to 3 overtimes and plus I had a few kind seniors who took the time to explain me the nitty gritty of the game.And hey, dont think that we always lose, we are ranked number 1 for defense in the nation and Ohio State and U Miami are like top 5 in the nation so we lose only to the really good ones....and I am taking an effort to prove that I am a committed hardcore wolf pack fan .

I really have to appreciate the Americans because of the importance they attach to college level sports. This sort of attention is what encourages these kids and motivates them to move onto the higher level.(the game that I went to was telecasted nationally on ESPN) In India I would imagine the conversation to go like this...."Son: Hey Dad I am on the college team, Dad: How much did you get in that science test son ? do you really think that this game is going to take you anywhere in life son...look at John Doe see how he manages to brilliantly balance himself by studing for 10hrs a day and revising what he studies for the other 10 hours". But one thing that bothered me during the game or lets say before the game was the audacity of women over here.Please don't get me wrong I am not an MCP or anything . Its better if I narrate the whole incident to you. To get to the game I had to board a charter bus from the college campus to the stadium. The bus was really crowded and there was this drunk guy who wore half pants, a formal white shirt with a tie, a wind jacket and a cap. I dont know whether he got his attire wrong because of his drunken stupor or whether he normally dresses that way. So this guy butts his head out of the window and swears at all the people passing by. So one of his victims was this middle aged heavy set white lady who was driving her SUV towards the stadium. She made the mistake of overtaking the bus and this guy got really pissed and started reeling out a bunch of expletives. The traffic suddenly came to a halt and the SUV was about parallel to the window with our man's head jutting out . On seeing the SUV again this guy got all hot and relaunched his verbal tirade...one of his lines were "hey, you bi... what do you think you are driving...what is this world coming to , a 45 year old bum **&#% ".. This time the lady heard and boy did she have a short fuse. She came out of her car and unleashed a Bruce lee sort of kick on the door/window of the bus. The kick was so powerful that the sound reverbrated throughout that crowded bus and all the chattering stopped . I guess by then Mr. drunk must have been pissing in his pants. ButI was truly shocked, a 45ish lady despite all her flab doing a stunt like that. Well imagine how it would have been if a 45 year old Madisar mami in Renganathan street, Chennai do the same thing to some drunk guy(hmmm reminds me of Kamal in Avvai Shanmugi/Chachi 420)....I think the drunk guy would first be as shocked as I was and would pinch himself to check whether he was imagining Mami doing a the kung fu kick or whether he had too much to drink. I think he'd take a vow that he would never drink again.Well atleast such incidents would reduce the number of alcoholics. I guess we need to start training our Mami's in martial arts rather than the traditional marital arts like cooking and taking care of the household.

Ok so that was the fun part of the weekend now comes the boring part.....HOMEWORK, PROJECTS...crap, crap and more crap :( :( :(

Hi

2004-10-24T21:15:00.000-04:00

Hello people
I have been reading some blogs for the past few days and was amazed at the range and depth of thoughts they managed to convey. I have decided to jump into the bandwagon....so lets see how it goes.

adios
-K