Tree on the hill

Review Om Shanti Om

2007-11-15T11:56:00.000-08:00

Ah..we are entering a very exciting time indeed... we have big hollywood studio entering the Indian Market with 'Saawariya' , and suddenly we have the King of Bollywood SRK 's Om Shanti Om (OSO) throwing an ample challenge at the invaders from the west ...and a postive out come has been : a massive improvement in production values...
I had to choose between Saawariya and OSO on the friday night, and since I had no desire or inclination to see Ranbir Singh's naked posterior, so i chose to watch OSO instead, falling back to trusted SRK.
That is not to say that OSO is a great movie... it is a good entertainer... especially the first half of it, when the movie gently pokes fun at the tinsel town of the 70s... and it is a heart warming nostalgic feeling to watch the Bollywood as it would have existed then...
And SRK works really well in the comic elements in the film.. it is in the latter half (in the contemporary Bollywood) , that the movie sort of disappoints... we have SRK returning to his hamming self... or rather to his 'Hamlet' self, plotting to drive the antagonist into confession and repentance..with an aid of a 'ghost' ...
And of course, there are juicy tid bits thrown in as side dishes..like the time, when we have 70% of Bollywood making a guest appearance in SRK's durbar ie. Birthday party... it seems like Bollywood wanted to pay its obeisance to megalomania of SRK…. Not to say, that it does not entertain… it does….Akshay Kumar ‘s ‘return of khiladi’ provides helluva laughs…
And so does SRK’s depiction of a South Indian actor…
But I will tell you what stops OSO from becoming a truly remembered film of our times… OSO is not a movie to be taken seriously… it is a movie where you can safely loose your commonsense at the theatre’s doors… and when the movie pokes fun at all and sundry, you enjoy it… the problem is at the latter half , when the SRK takes himself too seriously… and decides to display his acting range…
Nah nah..doesn’t work… now that we are used to movie’s humorous tone… we have no patience for SKR’s vehement out bursts…
Like the time, when SRK ‘scolds’ Deepika, when she is not able to act…. I half expected Kabir Khan to do an encore and Deepika on the field with a hockey stick, in the next shot…
And what was all that Shakespearean – supernatural twist at the end… hey !! we came to see a funny movie…and now, you want to scare us and insult our intelligence…or more importantly, expect us to use our intelligence to sctrutinize the plot…
But don’t let my ranting stop you from watching the movie… in the media blitz that has ensued, it is useless to ask you to not watch it… and fairly enough,as an entertainment, OSO works…
What really saddens me, that SRK came across a great concept…. Depicting Bollywood in its true funny likeness… an industry, dictated by the whims and fancies of a few… with its ironies… and likes..
He stumbles and fumbles… and reduces this movie to another mediocre flick , made to pay its regards to stardom of ‘SRK’… and not be truly great… or well even, ‘remember able’…OSO could have been much more…
Note: Is it my imagination or does Rekha is as attractive as she has been for the last three decades… there is a witchcraft to that women, who simply refuses to grow old and loose her luscious beauty… and continues to entice the males of generations by gone..and who knows , of those to come…

Review Saawariya

2007-11-15T11:52:00.000-08:00

You must thank me ..no, no, you must… it is for you, I braved the 9:30 PM show of ‘Saaaboriya’ , so that you may be prevented from wasting good hard earned money on this horrendous excuse of a movie… Also, since I had to steel myself to see Ranbir Kapoor (latest from the Kapoor clan) frolicking around in a white towel with nothing else on , (and since I am a straight guy) I steeled myself with generous cans of tiger beer… I overdid it a bit and drank all the way to the theatre … And so, after waving a large vociferous good bye to ticket attendant person, I floated into the theatre… which still had some 54 seats vacant…I had chosen an aisle seat so that I could get out wordlessly , in midst if it got too much…And then it started getting too much…as the movie began… we had the youngling, literally floating down to the stage from the skies, and asking Rani Mukherjee, if he would be a star or not… and Rani as graceful as ever hollered back, “Oh yes !! Super star!!” (What she meant was, “yes you pup!, why wouldn’t you!!?, we in India have the habit of patronizing dynasties, be it politics or be it moviedom – pretty soon you would have multiplex crowd eating out of your hands”)And so the movie began… we are treating to sets which resemble a giant aquarium… with people floating about here and there…doing nothing…every few minutes, they take time off from doing nothing,…and break into a mindless song… The prize gem, was the predecessor of all long songs, when a bunch of prostitutes (or the ‘scarlet women’ for those of you who need a PG 13 rating), break into a whistling cum singing session.. and believe me, their whistling covered octaves well into the supersonic screeching spectrum… while, believe it or not, the fool frolicked in midst of them, throwing a football from one to another….while Rani stood away, and In think, she might be marveling at the stupidity of a non existent plot…And then, like a zombie, we meet the leading lady on a bridge… and there she stood like a ghost..and our fool ran after her… if yours truly would have seen the lady in a state like that , he’d been running in the opposite direction…But comrades, we forget, it is Sanjay something Bhansali’s flick… it is a grand stage where dollars drip from every prop that you can see… it is a ‘star vehicle; who is supposed to launch the two kids into a short lived trajectory into stardom… it is a movie with as ugly and threadbare a plot as the warts on Zohra Sehgal’s skin…And true to himself, Mr. Bhansali hams it all up , by inflicting song after song on an unsuspecting audience… I mean, what is not an excuse for a song for Mr. Bhansali… You sleep on a pavement, you get a song…you feel like having a birthday party, you get a song…, you feel like standing on the bridge, and oh yes, you get a song…I mean, I felt the music seep out of me, during the ordeal…And any self reflecting adult male would have jumped into the numerous rivers that Sawariya sets boats ply (without any engine), if he had been driven to convince Zohra Sehgal to lease out a room , in the way our fool Ranbir does..all self respect forgotten… in a surreal insane depreciating sort of a way…the lady who was on the next seat, had her face covered in her hands, trying wipe out her tears while I was wiping out my tears of disbelief, and excess laughing, which depicted my lament at the lamentful acting being performed on the screen…To complete the picture, a child in the theatre started crying… and the anxious mother started up the aisle stairs, carrying the mourning child… I could not take it any more… I cried above the din, “Madam, don’t mind, we are crying as well!!! “ She would have heard me, had Mr. Bhansali refrained from launching another song missile at us…About the leading lady… What’s her name, I forget , Sonam something.., well, I shall give you that..she is pretty… she has a kind of an innocent face that you really want to believe in… but why, oh god why, did she have to choose this movie to be her launch vehicle… and what.. oh god.. why did she find attractive in that block of wood, Salman Khan, the salamander kind of creature, we see slither on the silver screen every now and then…Since Big Brother Holly wood, (Columbia pictures) produced this movie, Mr. Bhansali went a long way into ensuring that the set designs meet his fetish for making the world an aquarium…And so he nipped two promising careers before they could have bloomed… despite his alleged greatness and likes, the truth is that people wont watch the movie to watch new set designs, they would actually like to be told a story.. an honest story ,they would believe in.. likeable characters they would care about… not these manicured cut outs, with nothing but hot air.. with occasional indistinguishable flashes of genetic talent…As the movie paraded into another song.. I decided that it was indeed too much… and I left the theatre… The fool was still standing on the bridge when I left him… and I think, as the movie is being played some 21 floors below, me, the fool would still be on the bridge lamenting his lost love to salamander …God…what a waste of good electricity (not among the characters, but the one used to run the projector)
Note: On a totally different note… I wonder, why the fool did not confess his love to the girl early when we were still interested… and can such a thing like love really exist, which is not a mere social configuration of convenience.. And what was Rani Mukherjee really doing in this movie.. roaming around here and there, displaying rare talent amidst an incumbent cast…And I felt a sad pang for Rishi Kapoor, who was stressing on rediff the other day, as to how Ranbir was talented and how he was requesting us all to ‘bless’ his son… Oh, Chintu..

T20 Win - Scaling Olympus

2007-09-26T10:50:00.000-07:00

“Sharma looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth as he wobbled in to bowl his next delivery. Misbah lunged towards the off-side to try and flick the full ball over his shoulder. The ploy failed as the ball climbed into the darkening sky. At short fine leg Sreesanth waited … When the ball finally came down Sreesanth juggled once, then hung on.” – Telegraph , the day after.

Oh Irfan Pathan, why were you limping here and there on that Kingfisher flight that I took your autograph in??? Why the deception my friend, before you created history?? Who could have guessed the electricity which was shimmering through your recuperating body , a surge we saw in that crucial pre death over in South Africa??
Why the late blog? You may ask. But I have just floated back to earth… something like the ball, which our cute Misbah tried to float into orbit , only to find it floating back to earth , into Sreesanth’s waiting hands… the ball landed…and I contemplated jumping off my terrace 15 feet into the soaring crowd which was oozing from their homes on to join on the road, an incremental screaming crowd!!...
And could any match roused the Indian billion into insanity , as this one did? And I am not a superstitious man…but I when we started the bowling attack, I was trying to fix my table fan… and it simply refused to work… and it frustrated me… we had not put on a large score… and I realized since the table fan did not work, the Indian team would not work a victory as well… crazy? Loony? But that is the way I am… I believe in a physics which connects all things within a cosmic framework… the shape of the fan, its rotation = similar to the chakra on the sports shirts of the players in blue, far away , across the globe.. and the fan was not working.. and our players were following suit..
The downward spiral continues, with brief elations when a paki wicket tumbled… but the match pretty much was cruising towards the right side of Rajasthan…and my despair grew… and in that monumental 13th (or was it 14th?)over, when Irfan bowled out two of them, I jumped around with glee..and then I saw the fan blades …as if with a gargantuan effort, they moved… with an unmistakable acceleration with each rotation… and then the turn around began…and it did not matter if Bhajji was clobbered for three sixes and Misbah threatened to run away with the cup … I knew that we would win…
My faith was not brave one… it wavered till the last over… esp when Sharma bowled that first ball only for a wide and then for a six… and when Misbah lifted the ball over Dhoni, the ball seemed to go on forever… for a six… the camera angle was such , that a billion hopes seemed stifled… and I did not hear Ravi Shastri howl away , I just saw the ball floating down into Sreesanth’s hands…
I jumped around… yelled….all the usual renderings of a temporary ecstatic insanity … I could hear similar yells beyond the thick walls of other apartments… and a pent up energy being released as door after door banged open.. people just wanted a platform to howl, sing, dance… and share it with nay Indian they saw on the streets…
I was no exception… I ran down .. I needed someone to share my joy with… Ran to Rani’s (my dog) box… dragged her out of her box, and then shook her paws warmly .. and with out second thought ran away to shake hands with the store owners below my building…
The others ran out…all were yelling.. dancing… gulal, the colors of Holi , were thrown in the air by shaking, thumping hands… a procession of motor bikes started from my building, all the 24-27 years olds, taking out a victory parade....
The night was young… the gods were smiling… and India was waking up to a world redeemed, 24 years later…

I met Irfan Pathan !

2007-09-02T11:44:00.000-07:00

Still cant believe it! With due apologies to the recent Chak De fans, I am happy to report that I met Irfan Pathan on IT 414 (Pune-Blore-Chennai) Flight today ! and to think, I was to postpone my trip to Chennai by a day !
I was safely ensconced in the Kingfisher flight , being gradually hypnotized by the floating beauties between the aisles and when this guy sitting near by smirked and chuckled a bit.
I asked him what the matter was..and he pointed to the newspaper that the lady beside me was reading. He said, “Isnt it funny, they have put him on the front page! And here he is , on this flight.. “ I asked ‘Who?’ He rolled his eyes and whispered , “Irfan Pathan !” Unable to believe it, I turned my gawking mouth to the lady on the other side, and she nodded agreement , “yes ! He is here ! and he is very smart!” (And this lady was a complete stranger.. but she felt it right to share her feelings about him with me ..women..)
I was surprised ! Such things usually don’t happen to me ! I have just met Ruskin Bond till now.. and I always thought that it was the end of my celebrity meeting list ! But soon enough , here was our dude, clad in a black tee, strolling to the front of the plane! And my mind did a little jiggle ! Instantly, it matched his face with the one, I had seen running around on numerous international cricket stadiums, after bagging yet another wicket !
When the plane was on a stop over at Bangalore, he went to the washroom.. and then settled on the seat, at the front of seating lines, itself. (Perhaps, could not handle other people gawking at him at his seat in the back of the plane) Dreamy red-clad air hostesses were casting hidden ‘looks’ at him.. and he was talking on the phone ! And I felt my heart hammering through my chest…
Hold it, it was not because, an erstwhile, cricket star was some 10 feet away from me…or it was not because that I had suddenly decided to ‘come out of closet’ (hey ! I am straight!) but because, I knew what I had to do… and I knew that if I didn’t do it, I was gonna regret it for the rest of my life…
I searched around me, for a piece of paper.. found my novel (Red Mars) I had my Satyam pen… and even as the ground crew was cleaning the cabin, I strolled up to his seat.. and even as I lowered my head to speak to him, his eyes flicked at my face… (he still had his reflexes!) .and his eyes shone with sentient awareness and a bit of wariness as well.
I said, “Hi, Sorry to bother you, but can I have your autograph”
He said, “sure”
I handed over my novel ‘Red Mars’, and opened the contents page for him… and then he asked me, ‘who should I sign it for?’ Even as I was about to screech out my name, he muttered ,”which book is this!’ and then he turned the pages to the cover page, where he read the title ‘Red Mars’ and then he looked at me and said, “whats it about..science and stuff”
Now, I was in a dilemma, I had never thought that I was gonna make small talk with Irfan Pathan…and now the conversation was turning into an actual conversation.. and even though, I was speaking very calmly till then, I felt a bit of wariness… but then I ploughed on..
And on that auspicious day of 2nd September, 2007, at 9 PM in the IT 414 flight, in front of a plane load of passengers, I declared it to Irfan Pathan with a slight screech, “Its about colonization of Mars!”
“Hmmm..” , Irfan itoned and then he turned back to the page, he was supposed to autograph on.. and then he asked me again ‘Who should I address it to”
I said, “Abhishek” and then he said in Hindi “Yahan par” (Should I write here?)
I said, “Jaroor!” and then he wrote the golden alphabets which were to be scanned by me in near future.. “ To: Abhishek, Best wishes, signed Irfan Pathan” And then he handed the book over..
And then I thanked him and before I left, I said, “All the best Irfan”
And his eyes flicked to my face… as my voice was calm, and held a certain familiarity and integrity.. and he smiled .. it was not a smile, he would have reserved for endless interviews and commercials.. it was a genuine warm smile… and I smiled back… I knew that he was out of the team presently.. and I knew it would be hard on him to sit at home due to his injury while the team was touring UK.. and I think, my words, then, comforted him… just a bit.. but there you are.
I walked back to my seat, holding the book as my prize… and then I saw a kid walking over to his seat next.
I spent the rest of 30 minutes, looking over my seat on to his head. And when the plane landed in Chennai, I expected him to be whisked away through a private exit.. but there he was, strolling over to the luggage belt, on Chennai airport..with the public holding their mobile cams at him…
And while, I came out to look for my pre paid taxi, I saw him surrounded by people.. who were shaking his hand.. and then for a second, his eyes flicked in my direction..and I waved at him.. he smiled… and turned away and then he walked to his car, with a bit of a limp on his steps..
I wish he returns to International cricket in full form.. and his injuries heal… We all seek redemption… and peace… All the best, Irfan.

8 random facts about me

2007-08-25T07:48:00.000-07:00

My Brother Ayan has tagged me to describe 8 random facts about myself .
1) I like doing things when they are not planned for. A corollary to this would be that I would rather not stick to a plan but would like to do the things in my zig zag way… this helps my creativity as well… See that is two random facts in one point.. that is cost effectiveness for you (hey was that a third..!!?)
2) I love windswept, grassy hills and murmuring forests… I love the greenery of the lush trees …which I feel are manna our parched eyes of concrete metros…I spent sometime roaming around Bokaro , armed with my camera, clicking away isolated trees and forests here and there…
3) I love small towns and communities… being from a rather small city like Bokaro , I have always harbored love for small towns. That is why, I did some of my best work at on site, in Lawrenceville , Illinois, a delightful US Midwestern town…In fact, would like to spend my retirement in some university town, imparting wisdom to students..
4) I love music… almost all forms of it… My iPod is an integral part of my anatomy… and I usually like to erect this ‘sonic wall’ around me ,while, I work... I like music in its varied ranges… the patriotism of ‘Range de basanti’ music to other worldly tunes of ‘Sigur Ros’, to operas of Mozart.
5) I love walking in the moonlight… gotta keep my werewolf instincts sharpened, shouldn’t I? In fact a certain lady in GIM profusely believed that I was a werewolf…
6) I try and hunt for happiness in all I do in life… be it an impulsive climb to our building’s terrace or chicken soup at afternoons… I hunt happiness to its hidden hubs…At work, I am happy when I am immersed into a good measure of hard work, creating, conceptualizing solutions which would help our clients..
7) I love writing about things, when they are powerful enough to me , to be written… (Makes sense, that one?)
8) My nickname in college was ‘Comet’. It has an entire blog post to itself.

Chak De !

2007-08-25T07:37:00.000-07:00

A good movie is like a good book... you want to put it down to savor an intriguing, ecstatic bit, you come across... it is like, finding something in midst of pages that would delight you beyond measure into throes of skittish raptures of delight…Likewise, in a good movie, you would like the screen to pause a bit, so that you can express your delight by running around the hall…
Today in the world’s largest twin towers, the PETRONAS tower’s theatre number 2 , I did exactly that… I ran from one row of the seats to the front and back to my seat waving my hands over the cheers emitted by the Dolby system. Why shouldnt I have!? I was the only one in the 300 seat theater… no other Indian in Kuala Lumpur was sober enough to catch the early morning show of ‘Chak De’.
Chak de, is as we all know now, a movie which details an Ex hockey player’s quest the redeem pride for our national sport , and to exorcise his demons of the past…. And unlike Laagan which was slightly larger than life, Chak de reached to me at deeper, down to earth level. Even though I must confess, it has recognizable components that make a good sports movie… a rag tag team, a new coach, difficulty in establishing initial energy at the outset, the team managing the hold on to a championship by its claws.. and crème da le crème , the glorious win at the end… Chak de has all this and more…
What else would explain me running up and down the aisle , waving my hands like a well groomed flamingo, even when the story exploded into next exciting ‘logical component’ of a good sports movie.. it is the style, and the attitude that Chak De brings to us. It is the believability of the characters, the ladies are believable, much like their accurate hockey dribbling..so much so that we love the characters and think about their lives even after the movie has ended..
There is a bit in the movie, where our leading ladies have a match with the Indian Men’s hockey team. And when our girls , loose by an inch, after giving the lads a good close, fight, the men raise their hockey sticks in acknowledgement, and a salute … and the girls after a tentative hesitation , raise their sticks in reply… it is a beautiful moment… it showed that competitors that they might have been, but they were united through the sport they played and the country they played it for… and the brilliant magic of the scene , lingers still…
I never did like Shahrukh Khan much… I find his hamming through his roles, a tad irritating.. but his portrayal of an undefeated man, an undaunted , unorthodox no nonsense coach, is invigorating … something afresh , that brings an entirely new level to his range of acting… a fervor which I saw in his ‘Fauji’ days… which made the movie set a new standard of excellence for Indian cinema… no rhetoric, no dance and song routines.. Just plan fun, emotional fun… but fun no less..
I am happy to report that Chak de, like any good book is a delightful read !
(now can we please return to Hockey, instead of standing around a fool wielding a willow)

Politics, Chaos and a bit more..

2007-08-11T21:36:00.000-07:00

Working in crazy frantic projects seems to be my destiny... It has been a week since I have been leased to another CES practice team in Malaysia... and it has been like taking a one way plunge into a different civilization with its set of beliefs, work culture and way we do things...
Any project team from India, when it arrives at client site, evolves, its own style of functioning...every on site project team initiates the genesis of a sub culture of its own..
And if things go well, and if things work, then the team is always on the high, with a member's enthusiasm inspiring others to aim for a greater high.. and at a certain tipping point, the team fights its challenges as a single organism, with all its components dedicated to mitigate any threat to their happy world..perfect as it is..
And but many projects face upheavals, face leadership changes, have wrong fitment of reluctant people, told to 'carry on' , so that the 'show must go on'... Factions emerge, because people would like to pick their camps when the hell breaks loose, as it would ... Work items were never a priority in such a set up..synergy, if it ever was, is lost, and so we remain the nation of techno coolies , who have to be content with the manning the BPOs through the Indian nights...
Client raises eye brow and eventually threatens us with litigation..and so hell breaks loose (destined). So now, everyone 'gets involved' trying to "solve problems", and "getting things done" with the magic wand of the CxO level support..
Do things improve with such quick fire firepower? How would the rockets from off shore dislodge a working style, honed, and toned with years of ineptitude, political factionism, and interdependency... Where there is no firm, effectual leader... who can raise hell at the field level.. Infantry soldiers, in the field, can weave their own tales of interdependency to not move at all... or move in carefully guarded steps, which are too short for us to get to our destination ...
Obviously, associates need dramatic examples to set the urgency of the situation... but examples which inspire people to amend their ways , because such a team is used to 'escalations' and knows pretty well, how to dodge it... so as to remain in their temporary pockets of comfort..
I could join the crowd on the platforms here and there, all preaching about how things should be done.. I could join the legions of the ineffectual and whining audience listening below, who nod and go about their way doing nothing... but I believe in going back to the approach I laid down a while ago..
We are the residents of an ancient powerful nation, who have come a long way... we aspire for power but would not choose tomahawk cruise missiles to get it... we would be powerful with setting up OUR standards of moral ascendancy , supported by the pillions of our hard work and determination..
So in this project, I lay my dreams now... I would not be just another techno coolie, churned out by the millions in my country... I would raise hell... I would push things..I would study the framework and restructure it to what we need... I would dislodge pockets of comfort, and make us uncomfortable enough to deliver, because we dont lack for the want of creative intelligent solutions... I would make us rise above the petty human factionism which have emerged and make the team to deliver.. I would redirect the inertia of clever ineptitude which has (mis) guided us so far..to constructive boulevards of delivery...we cant hide behind excuses of history which dont matter anymore..
We cant afford to loose this client.. We loose this client...we loose Malaysia, the economic powerhouse of South east Asia…We loose Malaysia and we put all our eggs in the baskets of North America and Western Europe..
Hell needs to be raised to aspire for a heaven dreamed of.

Spirit of Kuala Lumpur

2007-08-07T08:44:00.000-07:00

After having visited my third foreign country within an year (at the age of 26, mind you), I conclude that global village exists ..literally..
The half a kilometer long building that you can see in this picture is the famous Petronas Twin towers, has some 78 floors.. It is right next to my hotel...and every evening, when I walk past by the plaza below it, the building bears a goliath like presence on the revellers below..
I find Kuala Lumpur a very orderly city to live in... people are polite and share a sense of common asian values.. Infrastructure is no less than what I saw in US and UK ... and in many cases, much better...
I bought a back pack in Pune, and it has not been a waste... I have back packed through significant sections of the city..Was with two married colleagues turned friends who were like half a decade older to me, and such was the bonding over the beer that I got a fair of advices as when to get married....after a few pitchers, we floated through the city of Kuala Lumpur... with its lights carrying us in its sheen..

At 75 USD (253 Rignits), the traders hotel I am staying at Kuala Lumpur is the grandest hotel, I have ever been to... I remember weeping a bit , being over whelmed by the grandeur when I had card-flashed the door open..
The major portion of the Malaysian sky line is visible, with some of the tallest buildings, blazing a little distance away...how little my Pune seems to this megapolis..and I did find a little India here at a place called 'Masjid India'..
I am enjoying my life here, hectic as it is... but then thats the eccense of life: not being stagnant and forging ahead, be it the pot holed roads of Pune or the Malaysian Masjid Jamek expressway...

In Malaysia

2007-08-04T17:20:00.001-07:00

Reached Kuala Lumpur, this morning.. staying at one of those good hotels near the Petronas Towers... am sleepy...

3rd Country within an year... all the travelling..

Beginning of the post Harry Potter world...

2007-07-20T22:07:00.000-07:00

Got up at 5 Am today, and within an hour, my bike raced the Pashan Sus road on the way to crossword at Senapati bapat road, pune. I was humming the famour 'Hedwig's tune...
The crossword was aglow with extra lightings, as the shop had commenced operations at 5 AM itself...
I saw frantic morning walkers, jittery bikers, girls on Sunny, making their way to the only aglow building in that commercial area... the magic was about to be unleashed... the multiplexes were to wear an un natural weekend-contradicting deserted look; the college crowd (not to forget the school) was to disappear for the weekend.. the cyber cafes were going to deserted with no coutner strike games in action... Pune was to be enchanted by the boy who lived...
I parked my bike right outside the shop in the tow away zone (it was 6 AM.. but hell, who cared..! ) I bounded into the shop... joining the silent procession who wore a strange look, almost sacred in its nature, as if they were entering a temple of solitude...
The holy books rose in little mountains to greet us... Harry Potter and the deathly hallows , the last book of potter series... the book of salvation - where all the secrets were to be revealed... were strewn about , here and there, wearing an innocent bearing... waiting for its readers to discover the enchantments inside...
Hedwig's theme in my head changed to 'TCHAIKOVSKY 1912 Overture'... supporting the sense of grandeur...
Like a dream, I glided over to the nearest mountain.. and my hands, mimicking the aria movement of TCHAIKOVSKY 1912 Overture, I reached out to the top most copy on the pile of them, to claim my prize...
And then I held the book , staring at its cover for 10 seconds or so... I was not alone... in isolated corners, people stood alone... staring their books... contemplating opening it...
My mind yelled: "Open it and read it you feel"
My Ego opinioned: "Wait to get home.. and then read it..."
Ego ruled... I glided over to the cash payement desk thingies... (new ones had been installed) to handle the gigantic traffic, the shop was to face that day...and I think, I was the first one, to approach the cash register... a girl near by had her handy cam on... trying to record each and every detail of this happy day... and the cross word staff stood, waiting , silently... almost with a sense of reverance, in their suited attire...
It was like a religious ceremony... or a coronation...
Two girls joined me... their eyes flickering every now and then... their spirits shining through their retinas... their hands trembling with excitement... I couldnt resist breaking the magic a bit, I asked in a very quiet tone, "So, excited?" as if I had known them from years..Still in a dream like trance, they nodded, not trusting themselves to speak... and then I said, "Want to know the ending" They shot out of the trance to squeal " Oh noooo , please , dont !" I laughed... I was just teasing them...
And then I paid for the book, with my debit card, forgot to collect the debit card, and started gliding away... when the cashier called me back, asking me to collect the same... Like luna love good, I said, "Oh... I forgot, the card, is it..?"
After collecting the card, I strolled outside, clutching my precious cargo, to my bike... I saw the citizens of the glorious city of pune, joining, the rapidly building traffic to the Cross word, a sense of anxiety in their eyes, wondering, if they would be able to get a copy or not...
I rode back... feeling comforted by the sense of closure, this book would bring... and thinking, how I shall be ever indebted to the Boy who lived, who brought magic back in this mad mad world...

Review - Harry Potter and the order of Phoneix

2007-07-13T22:42:00.000-07:00

The Problem with Harry potter movies is that the massive chunk of the multiplex potter crowd is also the die hard fanatical crowd, who have devoured the books for a million times, before they run all the way to the theatre...They have followed the progress of the movies being made on the web.. and now when the time for deliverance comes, they seek to be rewarded for the wait...
And so, each harry potter movie has almost a magical task at hand: 'To balance the expectations within a two hour movie' when putting the entire book to film would easily take four hours.. so there are touches, edits and adjustments in story....
And even while yesternight, the crowd roared with applause as the famous Warner brother insignia floated in the omnious clouds, I think, expectations were not met quite in the way we would have expected...
Now, that doesnt mean that harry potter is bad movie at all! It is just that while, we loved to be back in Hogwarts again... we would also liked if the 'adjustments' did not dampen our collective spirits.. a wee bit that is..
Like for instance.. I was really looking forward to Dumbledore - Voldemort magical duel... and while, it practically sizzles with special effects... it doesnt really go by the book... statues of centaur, with elf, ect dont move at all! But the improvisation is great.. so no real grudge..
Harry has grown.. and so has his friends... the world is changing with the hell breaking loose.. There are some great new additions to the cast: Dolores Umbridge (played superbly by Imelda Staunton), is appointed as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher by the Ministry.And so we have Finch, putting up all her 'decrees' all around the wall!
Evanna Lynch as the eccentric Luna Lovegood is splendid... she has the airy fairy voice, exactly as we imagined... Problem is with Dumbledore... he doesnt seem the type of friendly witty, genius, we are used to, he is rude at times.(court yard scene) . he doesnt have the style .. but yes, we love him.. well, because he is Dumbledore.. and there are some tender moments.

[In the multiplex, there were two females, in close vicinity, chattering through out the movies, telling their halpless boy friends what the movie was all aboutit was kinda irritating, One of them, while getting out , stomped and killed my toe...and so i exclaimed, "She killed my toe" and for some reason, that was very funny for her...]

Anyway back to our Potternama: I am on the fence for this movie... There are portions which over shoot my expectations. and there are scenes, which i feel would have been better executed... but here is the magical question, that you want an answer to: "Is the movie worth a watch?"
And the answer is a resounding 'YES!!!" [Do check out the glorious Weasley twins exit from Hogwarts... and the DA ! ]
What else do you expect from a die hard potter fan.. ? In a week or so, we will have the last installment of the harry potter series hitting the book stores... and while, many of our qustions would be answered... for those of us, who pretty much grew with harry, we are a bit sad to see him go.
Life wont be same, without waiting for the next book to come in...

Sivaji, the boss: A North Indian's Review

2007-07-08T06:34:00.000-07:00

"Lakalakalakalakalaka ! " ; it is with this wierd screech, that a friendly albeit tough Police Inspector enters the leading lady's house and the crowd in the theatre goes wild !

I knew that I was going to enter an emotionally charged social setting when I entered the INOX theatre yesterday to Catch the early Morning screening of 'Sivaji: the boss" ... but nothing prepared me for the normally gentle South Indian crowd whistling in every possible octaves in Supersonic sound spectrum. When I faced first volley of these supersonic whistles, I thought, it was rather unfortunate that the management had not removed Bats from the theatre ... but then, the extragavanza began,...with a mob trying to stop the police from putting the 'boss' inside the slammer. There was a pin drop silence... as an aghast crowd looked on...but then, the boss, the god of South Indian Cinema showed his fair face from behind the bars, and the sound waves from the INOX, threw many a sea gull into the bay of bengal !

If you thought that it was just a waste of 120 bucks for a North Indian and more importantly, waste of a seat at the INOX temple, think again! I got a deep insight into the Psyche of our South Indian friends... and the Tamil Cinema.

Language was not really a bar, as the screen play was not that subtle enough for me to miss the basic plot... of course, I missed some of the humor...but you loose some, you win some...

And so it came to pass, that the crowd cheered at everylittle stunt that Rajni pulled on: be it eating a deflected 'Centrefresh' chewing gum (clever product placement)... or hitting 12 goons in one go.
There was humor abound... like, when the leading lady, explained, as to she cant marry our hero as he was too dark for her... our hero goes on to have a good bath in Fair and Lovely...

I am sorry to say, that the movie streched a bit too long, so i decided to catch the show of Fantastic Four which was being shown in the next theater...

South Indian Cinema has evolved with Glitzy sets and more money...however the content is still a bit infantile... ok, yes, Mr. Sivaji, wants to build a hospital and the evil politicians try and stop him... but eventually our hero emerges victorious... isnt that a passe?

But the entire movie, songs, expensive sets come across as machinations meant to sell the main fare of the movie: Rajnikanth.. and they did a good job of it...

Sivaji: Soaking the chennai culture

2007-07-06T21:34:00.000-07:00

I decided to make the best of this weekend in Chennai, and decided to soak up a bit of chennai culture.

And so, I have bought my way into the 10:45 AM screening of Tamil flick 'Sivaji' at the local Inox Multiplex...it starts in 30 mins... :-)

See, Tamil people come across to me as a 'reserved friendly lot'... there s always a barrier, which I cant describe...

I want to see them in their joyous abandon .and what better opportunity than 'Sivaji'; the gd in these parts of India

Will blog about it!

My Accident today

2007-07-02T08:14:00.000-07:00

Here I was going home...on the old Mumbai Pune highway..and there is a sort of an old tunnel subway thing which connects Shivaji Nagar to the highway... and it was raining mad and the subway was submerged... and a Sumo was stuck in the water..and a crowd was surrounding it and there was a lot of crying and screaming going about... I felt very uncomfortable.Someone had died.
So i tried getting back on the higway by one of the connecting lanes..and then the accident transpired..
Like in slow motion, I felt the front tyre of my bike going into a submerged pothole and such was my luck that the bike did not fall on me..
But even as I (in slow motion) somersaulted over the handle of my bike to the water body in front... the funniest thing happened... Even as I felt my body soaring through the air, I had some strange thoughts shooting through the dull surprise in my mind... I thought of my new Sony Erricson which i had purchased weeks ago, about to be rendered Inactive.. thought of my Ipod.. (but then again, I pack my iPod in two layers of waterproof plastic everyday) and then almost lovingly, the water embraced my body... (my left side to be precise--I didnt feel that I should let my right side get wet)
And Pune, the friendly city it is, couple of angels ran over from the wrecked Sumo's side and tried to pick up the bike... and then they seemed amazed when I brushed off their eager hands and picked myself up. And then i beamed at them, and thought 'The spirit of universal Brother hood still lives'
And then I thought it prudent not to mount my damaged bike again..instead, pushed it away from the submerged chaos...
And I did not feel any pain, even though, my left ankle sort of bled a bit... but when I somehow navigated my way out of the chaotic roads..and reached home, the pain persists...
But I think I will be fine... accidents, bad appraisals, things happen

At Trafalgar Square with Anurag and Shashvat

2007-05-16T05:58:00.001-07:00

At Trafalgar Square with Anurag and Shashvat
Originally uploaded by abhicomet.

It was a good weekend... when we (Anurag and I) met Shashvat at Trafalgar Square, London. You can see the National Gallery of paintings in the back drop!

Spider Man 3 review

2007-05-05T08:24:00.000-07:00

Pathetic

That is the apt word which describes it.

My sentiments were being echoed by the hooting, booing crowd of 20-30 year olds which made the 10:45 PM show at ESquare Multiplex Pune.
Why this rather explicit display of emotions, you may ask… Tobey or Peter Parker had broken into yet another fit of crying on screen…
I wont reveal why… or that will spoil your ordeal when you see this …

Good super hero movies are an ardent mix of sentimentalism and action with action being the predominant element… it also helps to provide an another dimension to the protagonist… But nothing, absolutely nothing prepared me to see the great Spiderman reduced to sniveling and sobbing idiot on the bridge…

Spiderman -3 relies on sentimentalism more than it does on the Action… while, liberal doses of the same worked for the audience in first and the second installments, there was no need for the same in the third when all we are thinking is that ‘C’mon you moron, get on with it ! Where are the big fight sequences??? Where are the believable Computer graphics? Why is Spiderman dancing a tango in night club, taking a sabbatical from crime fighting, are we? ”

In this installment, our friendly neighbor hood Spiderman has three villains to content with, along with a chaotic personal life which somehow seems a tougher proposition than the three villains … And why should it not be? The fool commits one gaffe after another… no wonder his girl friend cant confide into him ! he gets on stage when the NY honors him and kisses another girl, Spiderman 1 style , hanging upside down , telling her to ‘land one on him!’, while the fuming girl friend watches…I would rather dance down to a hungry lioness’s den than commit such a crime !

Story…? Well, there is not much to it, it seems like a rehash of a typical episode of ‘Kahani Ghar Ghar ki’ with a stunt thrown in here and there, which clearly are low quality and shabby…

I don’t understand that whenever the citizens of New York are confronted with some arch villains, instead of running away to save their lives, why do they wait for Spiderman and when our spider makes a swinging entrance, why do they ALWAYS yell , ‘Go spidey go !’…

The only interesting character who redeems the movie to some extent is the penny pinching editor of Daily Bugle… he is responsible for some genuine laughs in the movie and succeeds for the part he was inserted into… he is has just one dimension to it, and unlike our leading characters , he does a fabulous job ! That is the way, all characters should have graced their role…. Why, enforce another dimension into their roles when there isn’t scope for any? They are nothing better than comic book heroes who are 2 D by their very nature…

Kirsten Dunst plays Mary Jane Watson whose love life depends on who comes to see her perform in a play or not !? That is paramount for her boy friend to do and god forbid if the poor boy fails to do so just because he had a city to save …If I was her boy friend, I would have hung my spider suit on her stage and taken the job as an usher in the same theater to preserve my love life and just do away with the emotional entanglements which stop me from doing the spider man stuff!

The movie drags for more than two hours because of these unnecessary plots , which should have been edited ! The audience was so bored and tired by the end of it, that they did not even hoot, they just dragged themselves out of the chair and walked like zombies towards the exit… No one was smiling, it was as if the film had sucked the life force out of their bodies… only one little boy kept saying aloud , echoing our thoughts , ‘Spiderman 2 was the best’ Not part three !

God, that is 130 bucks which I would never see again… but I hope this review stops them, from making Spiderman 4, that should be punishable by law !

It is hope less to urge you to not watch Spiderman 3, but please catch a morning show or something, so that you don’t have to pay much for this pathetic movie

Accidental nuclear strike

2007-04-29T09:27:00.000-07:00

A carton of Absolut Vodka has lit up many a evening…. The Vodka in our little story lit up the South Asian Continent into a chaotic conundrum and a sadistic frenzy…

The revelry was warming up…. The fires were being stoked… chickens were being roasted… and the obscure little hill side in North West Frontier Pakistan played host to a very merry band of Pakistani Army and fellow terrorists.

A merry major scooped up yet another bottle from the carton and meandered to his old friend, the leader of an obscure little terrorist organization in POK. The men drank silently on the dune, too dignified or tipsy to join the drunken crowd below.

“Oh yes, I can nuke them…”, the major muttered dreamily…
“hic..hic… yeah, like they would let you…” , the mercenary said, with his eyes closed…
This offended the major… he stood up and roared to the night , “oh yes, I can ! I have the codes”
“hic…hic, yeah, like they would tell you…” , the mercenary said, with his eyes closed…
It was too much for our merry major… he was posted in the wilderness for months now, his requests for leaves, had not evoked a response as yet… the only saving grace in the entire sordid affair was the carton of Absolut Vodka which formed a holy part of reinforcements from Rawalpindi … and now just when he was merry in a true higher sense, this buffoon did not believe his words !!!

Major fell to his knees and grabbed the mercenary by his should blades and swung him to roll onto the gentle dunes below…. And then he ran after his rolling friend…

When he had stopped rolling and had come up to a stop, Mercenary shook the dust out of his grizzly beard with a shake of head… and stood slouching to confront the on coming major… A merry argument followed…. Major decided that a demonstration was needed… Hand on each other’s shoulder, both men sauntered over to the waiting projectile….

Major hugged the old missile… ‘such a beauty’ he thought… but she was the reason, the very object his unit was guarding with his fellow mercenaries … and everyone knew that since ‘they’ had such beauties in their harem as well…there was no cause for an exchange, an indefinite status quo,…he wondered that then why in God’s name should he be not allowed a vacation, if this beauty was never to used in any case… and she was the reason that he was not allowed a vacation…

I am gonna miss her , the major thought … and he forced open the little dial thingie on the carrier vehicle…the dial screen lit up, waiting for the authorization, .he had the codes… his compatriot at RawalPindi had given him the codes to burden him with the knowledge and the responsibility.. he couldn’t take it any more…And with a mirthful drunken chuckle, he entered the codes and turned to face his slouching mercenary friend…
“See? Hic ..” And he pushed the red button, human beings in his position had abstained for pressing for the last half a century or so…
The ‘ping’ ‘ping’ of the launch sequence started and it reminded our major of an old wedding song, he had heard a long time ago… the time had come to send the bride away, he wiped a tear ,… in 3 minutes, the timer on the dial reminded him…

The job done, he sighed ..and some last traces of logic made him lead his mercenary friend to a dune, …from where at the end of three minutes, they watched the bride being aligned up by the hydraulics and blast off in the violent sky on a fiery trail…with a flurry of fireworks …

The men cheered, their AK 47’s jangling from their limp hands … and danced…as the sky lit up in the missile’s trail .
It was a bonus to have vodka in such wilderness, they thought … but to have vodka under such fireworks!!! Ah, heaven, thought our Major…

He toasted to a successful flight, puked on the sand dune and slumped in his drunken torpor to his bed nearby… He wouldn’t remember any of it the next day…

The HATF missile streaked on its supersonic trajectory southwards, while the sub continent slept… it lit up the skies it passed through , like a shining comet, uninvited…

The men manning border radar stations thought it was a blip or a malfunction, they reasoned… no cause for an alarm… no need waking up folks in Delhi…

And the missile continued its predetermined path to India’s southern command…

The warhead detonated over Pune’s Shivaji Nagar with the grace that 200 Kiloton can only allow… and the ICICI bank was suddenly deprived of collecting on seven hundred thousand home loans they had given away to men who were no better than ash floating downwind to Mumbai…

The US ambassador did not wait for the general to make an appearance… he stomped into his bed chamber to pull the sleeping general of his dreams of a successful Jihad world wide ! “What have you done !!!?” the ambassador screamed at the bewildered General..

An hour later, General was on TV, weeping and pleading, calling out to his ‘brothers’ in India, trying valiantly to explain how it was nothing but a trifle, little mistake, he groveled … He assured that the Major in question was to be punished.

He implored the Indian leadership to remember Mahatma Gandhi and the principles of non violence… he also threw snide feelers like ‘Pakistan’s right to protect itself’…

PTV showed reports of Pakistanis collecting rupees at Petrol Pumps to help in restoration of Pune to its earlier spic and span fashion. It showed reports of ladies in Islamabad sending ‘rakhis’ to their Indian brothers, and demonstrating that it had just been a mistake! Pakistani foreign ministry hopped on a plane to India to make amends, only to be turned back from the Indian airspace!

World watched aghast…President Bush retired to his ranch in Texas on a ‘sick leave’…

India was on the boil ! At first no one would believe that Pakistan would violate the established doctrine of MAD (Mutually assured destruction) and nuke Pune… Property rates dropped to all time low… People sold their 2 BHK flats in Bandra, Mumbai for a lakh !

The Hindu radical organizations demonstrated outside Agni missile factory at Hyderabad, brandishing their spears, raising slogan at the impotence of the government…

Mahesh Bhatt appeared on prime time TV, conveying his opinions to an uninterested junta on the modalities of a nuclear exchange.

The Indian military machine was on full alert and the nuclear command upgraded the conflict scenario to Level 5’ and the war heads were mated to the delivery systems… it awaited a go ahead from the Leadership in Delhi !

TV channels like AAJ TAK and sundry were beside themselves with joy, they finally had some thing proper to report on! No more live dowry fights on TV ! They created a SMS poll to a shocked audience where in the viewer had to type which city they thought it would be next!?

South block issued a statement that ‘it was monitoring the situation closely!’ An angry opposition screamed for the prime minister to step down …

IT companies in Bangalore, Hyderabad and Chennai fired scores of employees anticipating loss of business even as they cried themselves hoarse, citing their business continuity plans of relocating to Singapore !

Rahul Gandhi was being searched for a comment … certain parties were interested as to how the dynasty would respond to it ! He could not be found. Some said that he was back In Colombia ..

Rave party sites assured the revelers that they did not have stray nuclear missiles in their events and they had shifted base of operations from the hills of Pune !

Orkut and Blogosphere was abuzz with new hate groups … people armed with fake profiles threw obscenities at each other!

Real Estate industry tried recovering from the disastrous fall in the market to a new line of business: Building villas and residential societies with nuclear shelters with all facilities like spa, under ground swimming pools….

Nervous communists bashed the capitalist west for creating the nuclear weapon! The Russian and Chinese stockpiles did not find any mention in their lengthy monotonous speeches!

Matrimonial web site announced special discounts in the ‘tough time’, reiterating the need for having a family before time ran out ! And there were a lot more couples roaming the parks and the gardens, hand in hand, counting their days on planet earth.

Dr. Palash Sen’s group Euphoria launched a new album called ‘Radiactive Dhoom Pichuk Dhoom’…

Big Brother contestant Shilpa Shetty hopped on the first British Airways flight to take part in the secure confines of the another Big Brother house !

Rakhi Sawant branded Mika as an ISI agent !

India Bulls changed its name to ‘India Bears’, when the sensex dipped below 100.

Indians organized a ‘Bandh’ in New York’s time square ! For a change, India found a story on the cover of Washington post !

In UK, there was a talk of some parts of UK like Birmingham receding from the United kingdom!
The hot line between India and Pakistan had the Airtel tune playing it on both the ends!

In short everyone was having fun !

The emergency Indo – Pak meet at New Delhi’s Hyderabad house was held secretly (under American Coercion) to find as they put it: ‘to find a way out of the hell hole’.

Indian Bureaucrat was livid… he had rushed in with his troupe to confront the cowering Pakistani delegation!

‘It is unacceptable!’ he spluttered amidst smatterings of Punjabi Obscenities at his Pakistani counterpart, ‘Unless we have a solution, we will consider the nuclear strike as an act of war against India’

Pakistani senator something tried his best to explain.. .apparently to possess some second strike capability i.e. to be able to strike back at the enemy in the event of elimination of leadership, it was decided to disperse some launch codes to army units in the field, so that they would be able to strike in case, no codes were coming from Islamabad ! And this had apparently back fired! (Ignore the pun!)

After a small scuffle, it was decided that it was only natural to have a ‘Hamlet solution’ to this problem… Hamlet Accord, it was later termed by Historians…

Hamlet Solution was a brilliant solution to such improbable problems!
It worked on the simplistic yet elemental motto of : “You hit me ! I hit you back !”

It said, that in case of accidental nuclear strike on any country by any other country, the aggrieved country shall reserve the right to strike back at the conflict initiating country to ‘balance the loss’, without a strike back!
I.e. in lay man’s language, “ If Country A accidentally eliminated a city of Class A in country B by a nuclear strike, Country B shall strike back at a class A city in Country A, with country A not striking back at country B, thereby paying for the loss caused in the first place, thereby limiting the conflict and not making homo sapiens join the UN’s endangered species list !”

The Pakistani counterpart laid his head on the table and groaned, ‘Ok, we will probably do with out Karachi!’

The Indian counterpart screeched, “It is not a dictatorship like yours, senator, that we have here ! We are a democracy! The citizen of India shall have their pound of flesh!! We will find the appropriate city to respond by ‘democratic means !”

The senator was still wondering at such luminous and marvelous words…. He wondered how on earth could one find the appropriate city to Nuke via ‘democratic means’.

He did not have to wonder for long as he sat up looking at a special report on AAJ TAK while lounging around in his bedroom suite at Maurya Sheraton, Hotel New Delhi.

The pretty newscaster lady announced with her robotic unwavering smile, that in collaboration with Election commission, they are running a poll to decide on a city ! Her tone indicated that she needed some help to decide which dress to go for !

SMS A for Islamabad.
SMS B for Lahore (and so on and so forth )

On the third day, an Indian Army’s commander of 333 Rocket brigade stationed at Rajasthan looked at the codes which had come in from Delhi ! He had the coordinates of his target.. He looked at his engineers who were running last minutes at the solid fuel Agni 1 resting on the launch truck.

Commander’s hands trembled and stopped an inch from the red button, which everyone had democratically decided for him to press on. Yet he thought he needed some liquid courage for the task… and he asked for a drink! A lieutenant rushed in with a bottle of good quality Potato based Absolut Vodka ! And in 15 minutes, Lahore was no more!

(Written on April 29th 2007 for fun!)

Hiran and I

2007-04-08T09:09:00.001-07:00

Hiran and I
Originally uploaded by abhicomet.

My monkey bro will throw a fit as well as a tantrun on seeing this ! But I love my smile on this one !
Hiran or Hiranmayi is my brother's girl friend !

My room

2007-04-06T10:12:00.001-07:00

My room
Originally uploaded by abhicomet.

The chair is broken... but can be still sat on.. while I play on the computer my favorite strategy games... and listen to that surround sound MP3 spewed on from 6 directions at me with generous doses of 2000W woofer ... See that book it is 'Artemis Fowl and the Eternity Code'... and that is what I am presentlly reading right now...in the light of a tube base reading lamp...

So as you can deduce, my room may not be perfect but it is indeed a comfortable place...

VCR strangle hold

2007-04-06T09:57:00.001-07:00

VCR strangle hold
Originally uploaded by abhicomet.

What can I say, and indeed do?
Except to laugh out loud for these idiots two
To Mr. Rana's great woe... (Pronounce 'woo')
This picture is immortalized! Hoo Hoo Hooo!!

It is a rare event indeed to capture something so good on disk !! We were just waiting for the 12 second timer on the camera to elapse, when Mr Vidhan Chandro Rana got a little friendly and decided it was an opportune time to get us photographed with him trying to strangle moi !!

I had the last laugh !!

Peace

2007-04-05T09:16:00.001-07:00

Peace
Originally uploaded by abhicomet.

United Kingdom, with its red double Decker buses and oyster card is a distant memory now… and I find myself in a unique situation here in India…

There have been a lot of changes… waves of it all around me… and as much of it seems to be directed at me…. I don’t really feel much of it….My life proceeds at is placid pace from the cheerful gardens of youth to the first meadows of midlife… There is still time to that tipping point… but the run has started…

My family of course, would like nothing better than me settling down…

About this picture, I clicked it on my second last day in United Kingdom…. I love this photograph of mine.. and I call it ‘peace’…

Like the peace, I felt last night, when I woke up to stroll over to my terrace and saw it drenched in the moon light… it was late at night … and I had never seen such a bright moon light before….

Despite its pitfalls, I like Indian summers… they have a sense of intelligent calm around them… they make me miss the rains… but while, it is 40 degree Celsius, I appreciate the long evenings and my fridge much better….

Back to Pune !!

2007-03-31T07:50:00.000-07:00

Pune darwaza

I am back in my country after two freezing months in UK !

And I must say that this is a whole new world !!

Somethings have changed....

Will write more on this... but that is for another day ! Right now, i would like nothing better than to relax in the comforts of my country and battling its challanges with pleasure !

A fuller moon...

2007-03-11T03:30:00.000-07:00

This is the road to my room in Kenley, Surrey, England...

My visit to UK has been frought with personal and professional challanges... and as beautiful this place might be, I realize that there is no place better than home...

Again, I dont know what Home really is... is it just a place where my suitcase, presently is...? Or is it just my flat in Pune... or is it Bokaro...a haven left far behind...

I have travelled all over the globe... and I might not know what a home may be... but I do realize that life is a road... and homes are more of pit stops along the way, made by people (and other creatures) inhabiting them...

In any case, the countdown has begun... and now, I dont have many days in UK... and honestly, I am happy to bid these last days good bye.Today, I look at life with optimism and seek to find a beauty in all it offers me. A full moon can be fuller... it always is.

Mahalaxmi …

2007-03-04T03:23:00.000-08:00

On my birthday, my PM and I went out to local Chennai Dosa in Croydon to eat.
He told me of the famous Mahalaxmi temple in Mumbai.
(Mahalaxmi Temple is one of the most famous temples of Mumbai situated on Bhulabhai Desai Road. It is dedicated to Mahalaxmi, Lord Vishnu's consort. Built around 1785, the history of this temple is supposedly connected with the building of the Hornby Vellard (see History of Mumbai). Apparently after portions of the sea wall of the Vellard collapsed twice, the chief engineer, a Pathare prabhu, dreamt of a Lakshmi statue in the sea near Worli. A search recovered it, and he built a temple for it. After this, the work on the vellard could be completed without a hitch.(Wiki)

In essence, he said, “it is said that it is because of the Devi that the sea stays in its place and its waves do not devour Mumbai…”

I don’t know why but it was a very comfortable concept… It induces calm into me… as I thought of the Devi’s statue standing firm in its place, ordering the sea to stay put in its place… I accepted this fact without trying to rationalise it and felt a peace, I have rarely felt in London…

The fact is that they, you and I lead a life which careens away from simplistic shores… much as we try, our lives break into dimensions and these facets of life are very hard to control… it is like the boat example… many a time, we have no option but to just be swept along the unpredictable currents of life…

And we seek refuge in religion… because we find it gratifying to believe an indeed hope, that there is an order to things, maintained by entities we call the ‘god’.
And they would ensure that the currents we are subjected to are indeed benevolent, gentle and congenial…

I don’t say that there is anything wrong with it… indeed, I am proud to be a Hindu… indeed by birth, I am attached to one of the world’s oldest religion…
but also because, I studied Hinduism and accept its virtues… its principles… as my own… it was not a philosophy thrust on me… it is a philosophy accepted by me.
And I find solace in it.

Let me digress, to demonstrate that it is sometimes for the things that we deem simple, things just don’t work out…. lots of things to accomplish that particular thing can and indeed do go wrong… but we still forge ahead, wind of faith on our sails into the future… like last November.

I raised an international Travel Plan last November and indeed it took a lot of time and effort to get the FIC to approve it… the PO and not yet come, but the client had confirmed and was expecting me in three days…
There was still a last step : the final approval by the senior VP… and director.
Now of course, as things go, come heaven or earth, it was Friday.. and if I the final approval came too late… there was no way , I was gonna catch that flight over the weekend…

My colleagues suggested that I should mail him (!) and request his approval… but I was so flustered by the tediousness of the strings of approvals till then… that I was not so optimistic about the last approval…

I had lost all confidence in the system… but even so, I got my friend to help me compose a polite mail citing my TP number and seeking apologies to bother his majesty for such ‘transactional details’.

What I did not expect and was not prepared for is that the TP which took 3 days to come to that last step was taken up by VP’s secretarial staff with a willingness and initiative I had not seen in My Company before.
They approved it within 30 minutes of my mail.
And they were courteous enough to mail me personally that the TP has been approved and they wished me a happy journey.

Suddenly I felt much more confident to travel to another side of the world… and to jump into my first on site project…. ….I felt supported.

I felt that higher up in organizational hierarchy, is inhabited by benevolent, intelligent humans who share a common compassion for those of us, serving in the ranks below… and they understood our priorities and stood by us and would support us, as we would face the unpredictable currents ahead…

It was something akin to religious peace… and indeed it’s a strange analogy… but then again… our lives are not exactly ‘normal’ in strict sense… but yes, our lives are not stagnant either...

Deltra Force XTREME

2007-02-26T13:40:00.000-08:00

This is the snap shot of one of coolest first person games I have played: Delta Force XTREME.

The best part is that it is modeled on Delta Force 1...the first Computer game I ever played!

I play this game each time, I return to my home town Bokaro..... I spend the quiet afternoons in the sleepy city blasting targets with my sniper gun !!

And since, you cant enter cheats, there is still more fun to be had.... it is funny how some games are so etched on your mind that you can easily recall the entire scenario the game is sketched in.
Like, if I was playing the particular episode depicted in the game snap shot above, I would blast out the resistance with a sniper rifle at least 800 M away from a hill which is right to the Tower. Then, I would have sneaked in and destroyed the tower with the satchel charges and escape by the sheds beside the building...
Wow...
In another news... it seems like I will be delayed still ... suddenly my project manager is very impressed with my work and doesnt want to loose me... I guess it must be something to do with the fact that I know the product better than she does... silly woman...

In any case, i dont see myself beyond March in this place... and as the wise man once said,
"this too shall pass..."
- Abhishek, 2147 HRS GMT... ( 3:18 IST), sitting alone in the office, NLA tower, East Croydon, Surrey, UK.

Home..

2007-02-18T03:44:00.000-08:00

This is the gate of my school St. Xavier's School, Bokaro Steel City ,on the day on its 40th anniversary.
The school invited all the alumni who had passed out of these very gates, for a two day celebration....
And look at the poster which says 'Welcome home'
And I am sitting here in London , and am not untouched by the warmth my school implies half the globe away...

Rode the london eye and walked across the bridge

2007-02-05T00:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was exciting.

I saw two significant iconic monuments of London.
The London Bridge (or the tower bridge ,as it really is) spoke of history... and London eye was fun to ride on!

Tower Bridge is a bascule bridge in London, England over the River Thames. It is close to the Tower of London, which gives it its name. It has become an iconic symbol of London and is sometimes mistakenly called London Bridge, which is the next bridge upstream. The bridge is owned and maintained by Bridge House Estates, a charitable trust overseen by the Corporation of London.

It was fun riding the london eye.

A bit about the eye: The British Airways London Eye, also known as the Millennium Wheel, opened in 1999 and is the largest observation wheel in the world. It stands 135 metres (443 feet) high on the western end of Jubilee Gardens,

The wheel carries 32 sealed and air-conditioned passenger capsules attached to its external circumference. It rotates at 0.26 metres (0.85 feet) per second (about 0.9 km/h or 0.5 mph) so that one revolution takes about 30 minutes. The wheel does not usually stop to take on passengers: the rotation rate is so slow that they can easily walk on and off the moving capsules at ground level. It is, however, stopped to allow disabled or elderly passengers time to embark and disembark safely.

Not a bad sunday, eh?

PS:By the way, the last harry potter book is going to be published on 21st July, 2007! I am really looking forward to it... Want to see if all my guesses and hypothesis about that world stand true or not...That world which has captured my imagination, like the millions across the globe...

Like my new days counter to July 21st?

The Monster Building ..NLA Tower of Croydon

2007-01-31T08:28:00.000-08:00

This building looms above the rest of Croydon.

Seeing this building everyday is a dreadful thing for me... well..that was a bit hard... this building doesnt scare me as such... as it fascinates me.

Yes, this is the famous NLA tower, near East croydon station.

My office is on the 5th floor.

When I leave this building at lunch time, and go on my stroll to the KFC a KM down the road, along the tram track, I can still see the building high, looming, reminding me that work is still to be done, and I better hurry.

This building is very different from the old typical london buildings which stand away from it.

Everyday, on the bus, I can see this building from afar... and I can think of the monotony of the hours ahead.... I am not particularly enjoying London... its a good place... I get enough to eat... But somehow I miss rani too much.... Like all other people in my life...she cant call me.... I guess she will be happily sleeping in her little box below the stairs...

I just cant wait to see this building off, and go back to India to my furry friend.

Sentient Statements

2007-01-20T10:26:00.000-08:00

I travelled across London today.

I took a train from East Croydon station to Victoria and then took a ‘tube’ connection to Ealing Broadway.

I travelled across the oldest and one of the most populous cities of Europe. Efficient public transport apart, today was a significant day for me.

How? Because, a personal gap was bridged today.

I am not the kind of person who enjoys new things, some one likes to travel to new places… I am more comfortable being in mundane by avenues of daily life… a safe schedule : that infinite cycle of home to office and back is what keeps me reassured and happy…

The particular thought of exploring the deviant paths; as inviting as they may be… crossed my mind; precisely at 11 AM today…

I finally managed to find a room for myself… and then found a full day of procrastination ahead of me… and then I decided to leave Croydon… and the journey followed…

From today, the paths as unfamiliar as they might be … shall be my highways… the lone signposts will be my sentinels…

Now that this threshold has been crossed over; I am trying to create two statements:
1) Personal mission statement: What is my purpose?
2) Personal value statement: What is my concept of me?

These were funny statements earlier… but I think I have crossed enough signposts now to think of them in a mature manner… I am not rigid, I am open to life, so these statements would evolve over the years… but a start has been made; towards the clear waters of self-awareness from the muddy creaks of a confused life…

The journey would be very similar to the train ride across London: self aware and exciting.

Ealing

2007-01-20T06:07:00.000-08:00

Finally !
Have made it to Ealing , London to Bua's house.
All these years, this place had been an unreachable destination... a fabled land where my aunt lived... and left when she came to India to visit us..

And it took me 25 years to get here ...

Its a great feeling...

In UK

2007-01-14T06:02:00.000-08:00

Yeah...
So not even a week in India, and now I am in London, UK...

Its not so cold here...

Project starts tomorrow...

2OO7

2006-12-31T23:19:00.000-08:00

Why should i not while away my afternoon hours...
When evening is all about the moon light...

Have a mystical, adventurous 2 o o 7!

Dance of the dolphins..

2006-12-30T19:10:00.000-08:00

I thought, before I leave for US, I should take some time off work. So i visted the Indianapolis Zoo today...

And I got to see a beautiful ..beautiful Dolphin show!

I have always liked Dolphins.... I even call a girl, I know 'dolphin'...

And seeing those beautiful creatures perform to the friendly biddings of their trainers... was hypnotic ...and fullfilling...

I felt a kinship to these playful and naughty creatures...

Luna Lovegood

2006-12-28T16:48:00.000-08:00

This little girlie is Evanna Lynch.

(Wiki: Evanna Lynch (born 16 August 1991) is an Irish actress from Termonfeckin, County Louth, Ireland.)

And she is a huge Harry Potter fan and, according to her family, is 'obsessed' with the series. As a younger child, Evanna would continually write to the author of the novels J. K. Rowling and, in one such letter, the youngster commented about how much she would love to act in a Harry Potter film but doubted this would happen as she lived in this sleepy little place called Termonfeckin, where nothing ever happened. And to Evanna's surprise, Rowling wrote back, "Don't be too hard on Termonfeckin; it does have a brilliant name! And I come from a very sleepy place."

I am listening to a leaky podcast.
And she has the most adorable voice...squeaky... sweet...

Reminds me strongly of 'M'.

My new Sonic God...and a thing about Music..

2006-12-27T06:17:00.000-08:00

Meet my new sonic god !

I am now a proud temporary owner of an Apple Nano 2 GB iPod.

Temporary, as I bought it for my brother.

The sound is pristine... and the features are pretty slick...

This iPod is the culmination of musical excellence in the long line of musical gadgets , I have been buying. It can hold upto 500 songs!... that is equivalent of 50 audio cassettes or two MP3 discs.

My first music box was the tape recorder.
Then we bought a 'deck' sound system.
And then, my dad, bought a 1000W monster ...'Stranger' range of amplifiers.

And lest I forget, the endless walkmans, bought on Birthdays..

Earlier this year, I bought a surround sound system (2000W).

And now the iPod.... and I still feel, that we will see new innovative, more pristine ways to tune into music, in the future...

Remember that quote from the movie 'Back to the future '

"Where we are going, we dont need roads!'

A thing about Music

When I hear a certain strain of good music…. I can feel my brain dissolving into nirvanic ecstasy…
I can feel my spirit soaring high above the highest mountains….

I can feel my brain accessing the unknown neural pathways that were left untouched before….I can feel my brain’s ticking at unknown exponential levels of productivity… everything shines bright on my horizon … and then gracefully recedes into a beautiful insignificance….

I can feel the blood, as it races under my skin… my headache disappears…and for once, I am back in the garden of eden….

Remember Music, when you first listened to it... how you took your first steps trying to distinguish it from the noise and the sounds, you heard..? The music that I hear now is in its most elemental form... music stripped ..and yet enriched to its most basic , to its most emotive form... when it directly transcends into your consciousness where words are not needed...feelings are... music mingling with your senses..and prodding them into happiness..

(This para was written by the author while listening to a Sigur Ros number ‘Glisgoli’ from their new album ‘Takk’…on his new iPod Nano)

Sense of purpose

2006-12-24T09:17:00.000-08:00

For quiet some time now, I have been having a recurring vision, an image and a dream... few seconds of it...

It is of me, moving against frigid cold wind, with fellow explorers on one of the poles... trudging through the snow, through the storm, the intense cold, and walking, with a steady, and a warm determination, towards a destination unknown...

Today I know what that dream means...

It is my destiny to follow this path... which has of late been mutated from warm tropical flora to frigid cold wastes... it is my job to get this project over with....

It is not long now... even if it might be a bit hard... a bit lonely... sometime, the sense of purpose slides down the valleys of procrastination , and then, I think of my life and my journey as it has been to today... the nights of hard labor... the days of intense preparation, all the moulds that I have gone through... and the teachers that indulged me, not because they had to, but because they wanted to.. it had been a hard long trek....

And now, this journey has brought me here to this frigid land ... and I am hopeful.
Esp when time and again, I see familiar stellar constellations in the sky... as i used to gaze at, while in India...and I am transported to India and its warmth... a benevolent place...

And suddenly this project seems like just any other milestone that I have passed by...and gradually, but surely... with each second, I inch closer to my homeland...

Rani

2006-12-23T06:48:00.000-08:00

This cutie pie is the picture of the colony dog named 'Rani', which translates into the queen.

Look at her majesty lounging on our bed in the drawing room!

She is very intelligent, affectionate and cute!

God, I miss her...

Surprise party!!!!..umm... gift!

2006-12-21T15:38:00.000-08:00

wow!

The client's director Debby calls me to have a meeting. We go to the BPM project conference room. I explain all the optimized 'To-be' processes to her... and suddenly the door bursts open ... and then entire group of ladies in the department troops in....

They presented me with a gift!!! Their company's T-Shirt, a X mas greeting card ... and photographs of all the ladies * , of the department...

I was really touched!

It is a wonderful gesture!!!

If only all my clients would be the same...

Will upload their pics!

Americans are friendly people.

(* This department is entirely composed of beautiful and hardworking women....! :-)

Basketball

2006-12-21T09:00:00.000-08:00

One kind lady in the office took me to a high school basketball match between Lawrenceville girls Vs Vincennes girls… 2 matches (grade 9-10) and (grade 11-12).
We went 10 miles out of Lawrenceville to Vincennes which lies across the border in Indiana . (We live in Illinois state).
Lawrenceville grade 9-10 girls won their match ..and their elder counterparts who were supposed to be invincible lost 51 to 70 points.
It was a very competitive match… you should have seen the cat fights..umm..rather fighting for the ball on the floor… these girls are pretty agile… rivalry was compounded by the matter that Lawrenceville is in the Illinois state and Vincennes is in Indiana state… so it became a game between two states.

My hosts also asked me if we played basketball… if yes, then do our girls played as well..?
Basketball... I took it up when I was in the 11st Standard... spent many a summer evenings and cool summer mornings on the court, shooting baskets...

That was some fun time I had... and of course, my brother is a keen basketball player...
Come to think of it, my brother has interests in all games... even though he looses miserably in Age of empires computer game when he plays against me !! (Hee hee hee)

Kolkata

2006-12-19T18:50:00.000-08:00

The largest metropolis in India, Calcutta or 'Kolkata' as it is called now, is a vibrant city on the move, volatile and unpredictable. The Gateway to India, till 1912, and the capital of the Raj in India, it still bears the Victorian imprint on its streets and structures.

Amongst the squalor and confusion Kolkata has place of sheer magic: flower sellers beside the misty, ethereal Hooghly River; the majestic sweep of the Maidan; the arrogant bulk of the Victoria Memorial; the superb collection of archaeological treasures exhibited in the Indian Museum. They are all part of this amazing city, as are massive Marxist and trade union rallies which can block traffic in the city centre for hours at a time.

Calcutta has always prided itself on the many luminaries it has sent forth, be it Tagore, Satyajit Ray, or Mrinal Sen. The intense dedication to the arts manifests itself in a plethora of festivals, dance, music performances and other cultural events. The Calcutta's are also famous for their all-consuming passion for sports, especially, football and cricket. Calcutta is a city of baffling paradoxes, a city that leaves its stamp on one's mind ... forever.

I have lived in Kolkata on and off, for most of my life... and the city of joy has been kind to me... it has been a wonderland... a city of movement.... no stagnation... this city is a tribute to eternal Human spirit... I remember walking on the Howrah Bridge...I remember waiting in the first class waiting room , a grand building which overlooked the Hooghly river.. and the sleepless night that it was...

Even though, people want things to change... they will have to change first... the work culture has to adopt to what the world demands... City has to regain its position as the intellectual capital of the world... not the procrastination capital of the world... Bandhs, destruction of public property ..has to go...
History would remember the present political leaders as the captors who held Kolkata's spirit to ransom for decades ...
But I am hopeful, that the things would change... for the better..

Luncheon with the ladies...

2006-12-17T10:11:00.000-08:00

We were invited to a mexican lunch, by the ladies we are working with. The Process owners, supervisors, Business analysts.

Curious eyes followed me when we entered the eating joint ...

They were pretty curious about India. They were quiet amused when they found that I hailed from a 'small Indian town of 700,000 people'

This was quiet understandable, esp since, this little town just has some 5000 people.
More queer questions followed...
Q: Abs, (I cant undergo seeing their trauma, everytime, they try to pronounce my name) How hot does it get in summers ?
A: 120 F (45-48 degree Celsius) in Bokaro.
Q: But you do have airconditioning, do you?
A: Umm.... (what could I have said?)

Q: (Appraising look) Abs, how old are you really? 23 ?
A: 25

I thought of a question for them:
me: When you think of India, what usually comes to your mind..?
They:
One valiant Attempt: umm.. Tsunami
Another lady: Some one told me that you still have plague there...

I felt like crying...

Kindness overdose

2006-12-08T12:03:00.000-08:00

I am the only few of the handful men in this building full of 200 women. The middle aged women are smothering me, with their natural affections...
Dropping by my desks, asking me if I had my lunch... Is the kind lady at the bed and breakfast cooking for me or not?
They flood me with invitations to drive me to eating joints... I politely decline, then they bring little post its to my desk which has numbers of near by pizze places...
Strange being, the only male on this floor..
God...maternal affection...

Ok Hon...

2006-12-06T16:30:00.000-08:00

Among the crazy grueling work day of meetings, minutes making, process mapping, if there is one time, that i look forward to, it is the lunch time..

Food is ok... but my habit of after lunch walk outside, from pune has carried over... of course, like Pune, there is no sun light here, no solitary fruit seller on the street... no credit card kid from the bank..

there is a frozen lake....some very fluffy ducks.. I walk around the little road encircling the lake, and take time off the throw stones at the frozen lake... of course, stones never submerge...like, me, they should wait for the summer.

There is a kind old lady (not the one in the picture) who is in the client's canteen, here in US.

Each day at Lunch, we herd into the canteen, looking for something edible amongst the heaps of beef and pork... and we could find some chicken.. some boiled vegetables.. selecting something... dragging the disposable plastic trays to the cash register, paying this lady for the food, and herding to a desolate table...

US is much about Business, and so we were not surprised by the matron's business like way... Though, she would stop us, evey now and then from selecting beef/pork... and today, she seemed to be in a good mood...

When I reached her cash register.. she was not there.. I saw her approaching from the other side of the counter... she was carrying some trays elsewhere.. and then she noticed me.... and then called out, 'Will be right with you sweetie...'

and then when she reached the register, and had entered the value into the system, which displayed the total sum, she said, quite unnecessarily, and yet, in a compassionate way, "thats 4.33 Hon"...

She didnt have any business motives behind saying that....she simply was being nice to me when there was no objective need to be...

I know Americans talk like that... in their casual way... but it felt like rain on a parched earth to me...

I missed Mom..

Dream Catcher

2006-12-04T19:28:00.000-08:00

The consciousness of a summer moonlit night...

Beauty of a autumn evening...

Resolve of a winter afternoon to face the night...

And the sweet fragrance of spring's moon...

My spirit dances with the seasons....

No qualms... no reasons....

The rains quench my soul...

The wet earth, the sea of green... there is so much , so intense... all around me...

I am a dream catcher.... a bag of feelings... glittering, beautiful and deep intense thoughts... of passion.. sparks of intelligence here and there...

I walk the summer night... I play in the wintersun.... I am free... I am liberated...

I am a dream catcher..

Connecting

2006-12-03T08:01:00.000-08:00

It has been a week in this cold cold country…
And I learnt something new about India: Connection.
India is about connecting…. And we are habituated to take it for granted… we even despise it… in buses…in jam packed roads….we celebrate it.. in diwali, in holi….
But it does not figure on anyone’s list…as something to appreciate.

USA is not so much about connecting… personally and socially that is…
USA is more about wide roads…whizzing cars… frozen flowers… bare trees…. Wal Mart… consuming …but not a soul, you could associate to… it is a society, where privacy is a prized possession…

Every one is friendly… everyone smiles… but there is this strange alien feeling about everything … a vague peaceful disquiet….. and a disconnect.
You have to work for a social life… OR…you have to, and wait for the day, that you can finally go home to warmth…

The weather is not forgiving… temperature frequents sub zero zone… you can’t enjoy the outside without your cold armor…You cant commune with nature… like you could in India…

We, while in India, take all pains to alienate ourselves from the masses… and still frequent Indian eating joints abroad to hold back some linkage to the country you have known…some connection…

I am waiting for February 23rd, 2007, when I can go back … My objective is to work ..work and work…

Snaps@USA

2006-12-01T04:52:00.000-08:00

My hotel.. Towneplace !!!

My room loooks like that.

Mak baby..aka Makarand took this snap!! This is the Xmas tree in the reception of the office.

In front of Heera, the Indian eating joint... try listening to how they pronounce Samosa!!

In side Heera, the Indian eating joint near Michigan street.

Scaled up!

2006-11-29T17:40:00.000-08:00

I like Indianapolis...finally have gotten over the jet lag... no more sleeping at wrong times!!

One thing I rarely get used to here is the increased sense of scale in everything! The coffee glasses, lifts, offices, cars, everything is BIG, a scaled up model of their poor indian counterparts...

People here at Indianapolis, are very friendly.
My hotel is good..., and at 45$ is a steal... esp, considering the proximity to office.
Cant wait for the weekend to come!

Indianapolis

2006-11-27T16:10:00.000-08:00

Am in Indianapolis, Indiana, US... trying to shake off the jet lag.

Casino Royale

2006-11-17T02:36:00.000-08:00

There are two kinds of James Bonds that I have known... first, and the most recent has been of a technoxicated, womanizer, witty secret agent, who kills as surely and smoothly (with all due respect to the double O prefix) as he would sip his shaken, not stirred martini...devoid of any foreseeable emotions... like a good mannered robot... Peirce Brosnan etymologizes this kind.
Ian fleming, the creator the James Bond created, a simpler more honest James Bond..a dark, unsure, observant character... a lot lesser pyro techniques described his escapades/adventures... but he compensated for them, with his intelligence, his calm demeanor... and grit...this bond was very different from its successor.. he had noticeable emotions... and slightly recklessness which went with him.
Casino Royale is very much about the older bond... a dark brooding character...who is just beginning his career with the double O prefix. He does not like killing in cold blood... he has an ego... he is a bit reckless... he is arrogant.... he is not as witty .. he is prone to acting emotionally... but he is not a charmer like the Pierce Brosnan... his fights are dirty and violent... no uniformed, high tech clean affairs like the Bond we have seen in the recent years....This is a true origin theory.
I liked Casino Royale... the opening sequences, involving one of the chases, is one of the most thrilling chases, I have seen on silver screen. Let it be a surprise...but this chase is thrilling, despite being devoid of any helicopters, tanks, SUVs... you will see...
Then, the new bond, Daniel Craig IS James Bond... he has the scars on his face... he is a cruel man, and it shows... and he has a deep brooding sense of humor....
Has anyone realized or observed the beauty of a brooding youth... ? A deep dawning realization about things... a streak of sweet pain... ? Daniel Craig has all those qualities… he is the best Bond played on screen, second only to Sean Connery.
Yes, there is a fair bit of technology, shown in the film, but it is not central to the story… it augments the story, doesn’t overshadow it…
Yes, there is a bond girl… but she retains a character .. she is not simply someone in a thong, Bond has to sleep with… she is very much central to the story…
Oh, now I have said enough… it is time for you to see this movie for yourself… and discover the beauty and the power of a brooding youth…
Don’t miss this one.

Hyderabad Fused!!

2006-11-06T02:18:00.000-08:00

Am at Hyderabad for training ... and this city is a strange strange happy place !!! I love it!
It is not as expensive as Pune and Mumbai! The people understand me, and I them, for we all speak the national language ! I have not been robbed or fleeced even once, despite my experience of being a mutant who resembles both a south Indian and a North Indian :-) It has a reason of course...Hyderabad I think is the modern day Stalingrad (in a good way)... the demarcating city, which is right in the middle of the invisible line which divides North and the South India.... so the two languages and culture, coexisting in a peaceful dream....so it is a fusion of North and South in a way!
The air is cool... it drizzles just a little bit !... not the city submerging scary way, as it happens in Pune.
And of course, the flavor of a small unpretentious town, mixed with an evolving uncongested metropolis!... the trees remind me of Jharkhand... and I suspect the air to be quite same flavored!!!
And who can forget the heavy culture of Nizam here !!!?? There are monuments, museums, waiting to be seen!!
But the best part!!!
Yes, that’s correct !! BIRYANI!!!!! I am staying at a place just near the Mecca of Biryani eaters!: Paradise !!!
I met a friend yesternight....we went to the bar... got a bit intoxicated, and then ate at Paradise... and the food was really heavenly!!
I have always have had a bond with Hyderabad, even yesterday was the first time, I landed here ! my date in the college hails from this place... some very special friends reside in this place.. and now I am here, happy, finicky, exploring the roads of Hyd... and I look at the sky as the nizams would have and marveling at this jewel, that is now ours! More, as this dream progresses.... keep reading !

Dorm flash back!

2006-10-28T12:08:00.000-07:00

Presently am in one of the ICFAI PGS.
CJ 262 ... am in the company of bright young minds of tomorrow... reminds me of GIM.

Anyway, have to catch that flight to Mumbai tomorrow...

Cheers!

Home

2006-10-27T19:34:00.000-07:00

'I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild, And feel that my mother now thinks of her child, As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door Thro' the woodbine, whose fragrance shall cheer me no more. Home, home, sweet, sweet home! There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!' - A poem about Home.

Home is a Benevolent place.

Creation and Conformity

2006-10-14T07:56:00.000-07:00

My life has been riddled with numerous instances when most unlikely circumstances have inspired me to move forward. May be it was my extreme imagination and the peculiar way of thinking, but the fact has been that I have managed to survive and prosper against immense odds in very harsh environments.

Many a times, to set a precedent, I created my own worlds… call them, new systems, call them new precedents, or something, that forces itself into the system…

The genesis of these creations is usually a feeling of vague disquiet, soft dissatisfaction and strange motivations. The cohesive impact startles me, and sets me to ‘act out of the character’.

I am feeling the same right now… that old feeling of dissatisfaction has returned… the old way of life has gone, even though, I may still live the same, but I am not comfortable with it…. The daily noise, the disdain of the system is forcing me to create again, to create something ‘out of character’. The forces of life have presented an outlet, I can very well progress, if I conform to those paths, which other have walked upon. But deeply, I know, that that is not the way for me. My way is the one I create.

That has been my way of life. I don’t.. I can’t fit into the modalities, of everyday life…. I can’t respect, what I didn’t create. Call it arrogance, call it paranoia, but I believe, that this is the way to lead my life… not to conform, not to abide, but to explore what I am capable of. To act out of the character, that is my forte. That is my core competence.

And the grandeur of creation is something that is to be lived through. Even if it is a presentation or an excel file, or a newsletter, or a college society. The thing which makes them memorable is that I was there when they were created… those are the permanent impression of my brain… something, which would stand through the binge of the system.

Team player be damned.
Creation is my oxygen and conformity my death.

Tribute to Bando

2006-10-06T04:37:00.000-07:00

The following is a tribute to Professor Trishit Bandopadhyay, our operations professor back in Goa Institute of Management.

Where the statue stood
Of Newton with his prism and silent face
The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
(William Wordsworth)

Bando was the most curious animal of all professors back at GIM.. Some may argue, it was Gopal… but Bando, even though not as well versed in histrionics, did have some thing ominous, menacing, funny, endearing, all in one stare … which made you wonder every time you talked to the man… or had the courage to knock on those huge doors to his room …

Bando conveyed varied images in different classes at different times in GIM…
Despite his Golcha fixation in the last semester in GIM, he would perhaps be best known for scaring the first years with:
1) His ‘You there!’ Persona
2) His sadistic dangerous smiles (Which turned into “cute adorable smiles” in the second year)
3) His Quizes.

His exams were academic events of repute… a battle for life… credits earned and lost … which decided the collective fate of many… those exams… esp the way he used to enter the hallowed exam hall… with a very very sadistic grin on his face… sending a shiver into those wondering on the seats.
I mean, it was only Bando who could be credited to teach subject which were not ‘global’ … even SOM was quite technical…
When he offered MAOS (Modeling and Analysis of Operating Systems) , there were few takers. The name itself was scary. It was the sixth term, placements were over. I guess no one wanted to inflict pain upon oneself.

I had not very academically pleasant memories of POM and OS/TQM.
Even so, I wanted to see what it was like. I loved the subject. It was a numerically inclined subject like DSS. And in retrospect, it was fun.

The thing about Bando was that he was one of those few professors who commanded respect. It was not due to his academic credentials, which as far as I know, were over the mark… He had a knack to teaching.. He was one of those few who would tax you the most and you would expect nothing short of him. If a test was relatively easier, it would be something sort of an anticlimax.

It had become a standard feature for the seniors to jazz up the ragging sessions, by telling off the juniors, ‘How are you going to pass the Bando’s exam, if you are not even able to do this?’

I have two very distinct remembrances of him; both of them in the library…

Realization
The first month at GIM was taxing… none of us were quite attuned to sleeping at 5 Am and being made to attend the 9 o clock classes…and of course, as a sadistic measure, Sharon made sure, we had the best of Bando at 9, two happy days out of the week.
And the classes were classic Bando, with him, taking time out of his diagrams and sending one of us out of the class… I was intimidated by him, but then things got personal.
He became a symbol for everything that could symbolize a challenge. I figured that if I could conquer his classes, I would be able to take anything thrown at me. He was pushing me, testing my limits… I let him… I welcomed it, with every feeling of contempt I could feel.

So, no matter when I slept, I made it a point to be at his class five minutes before he began… I hated him… and I relied on him. I prepared my notes, fighting the sleep… trying to retain everything, which was there… I tried finding each book he referred to in the class.
My emotions for him still bordered on fear and hatred when one occasion, in the library, as he saw me going through the operations section, he swooped in and selected a book from the shelf , and handed it to me, with a gruff, ‘read it!’.

The emotions mutated from sudden surprise, swelling intimidation, to shock and sudden erasing of the fear and hatred. Gap had been bridged… challenge conquered. Then I knew, that if I was important enough for him to hand me the book, I was some one he wished good for. Trance like dream paranoia seeped into my thoughts, and I have a faint remembrance of issuing the book and walking back to OT.

Intelligence
Rajat Mishra and I worked together in the Service operations management course of Bando’s in the last term. It was fun. And even though, contrary to what people had warned me up against, Mishra Saab really did work hard on the project, which involved snooping into Café Coffee Day and sneakingly taking pictures of the premises.
Rajat was caught as he lovingly shot lengthy panning sequences of CCD with his digital camera. But he got out of it, citing his identity as a tourist from Mumbai.

Now the thing was that I was involved in MAOS as well. And the final project presentations for both were scheduled within days of each other.
Rajat and I worked hard on the presentation, and the presentation went off nicely.
Bando seemed happy. He had liked what I had done for MAOS as well, mapping queuing systems in the Panjim RTO office.

When Rajat and I went to submit our report (hard copy), we found him the library. We remembered to put an extensive Table of ctoents which Bando insisted on. And he shuffled through the pages…I ran a commentary, briefing over the aspects of our submission, when he suddenly looked up and said, ‘You know, I really liked your presentation, the other day..’ in his gentle deep voice.
It was like waking up after a long long sleep. It was a feeling which can not easily be described. It was better than winning any award, I have won, or would ever win. That simple sentence, that acceptance was the end of my formal education. I grew up.

We walked away, leaving him, with hispiles of reports in that secluded part of the library. Out of hearing shot, Mishra Ji, suddenly asked me, in a curiously high pitched voice , “which presentation did he mean? Ours? Or Maos?”
I did not knew, it did not matter. Mishra ji was not convinced! Rajat and I debated the mystery of that statement for months afterwards.
And now he has moved on… so have we… all of us.
But there was something about him, which echoes across time… gentle resonances of thought, which corroborates every now and then, that we are not flesh but intelligence.

Seeing his lonely figure shuffling around the campus, with his stack of books, in his arms, a reserved happy expression on his grave face, was a sense of security. He was embedded deep in the subculture of GIM. Now that he has moved on, we wish him all the success and happiness as he would scare and push the bright young minds of tomorrow, as he charged us.

But I have been trying to write my memoirs… and it can’t be complete without Bando in it. I have been at this article for an year and it is finished today… It is a closure fit for eons to come...

Twain's Orbit

2006-09-29T03:37:00.000-07:00

American satirist and writer Mark Twain was born on November 30, 1835; exactly two weeks after the comet's perihelion.

In his biography, he said, "I came in with Halley's comet in 1835. It's coming again next year (1910), and I expect to go out with it. It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don't go out with Halley's comet. The Almighty has said no doubt, 'Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together."

Twain died on April 21, 1910, the day following the comet's subsequent perihelion. (Wiki)

Hmmm....

Hyper reality

2006-09-20T00:07:00.000-07:00

Sitting on Bench, gives me an opportune time to ponder over the dramatic ironies of life.... and since much of my time, is spent on sitting on this chair, in the office, I have recently understood the significance of the word , 'Hyper realism'
In Wiki terms, Hyper realism is defined as "Hyper reality is a way of characterizing the way the consciousness interacts with "reality". Specifically, when a consciousness loses its ability to distinguish reality from fantasy, and begins to engage with the latter without understanding what it is doing, it has shifted into the world of the hyperreal." (Source:Wiki)
In English , it means, that living and believing in a world of fantasy, ie like interacting in a hyper real place like Las Vegas casino which gives the subject the impression that one is walking through a fantasy world where everyone is playing along. The decor isn't authentic, everything is a copy, and the whole thing feels like a dream. What isn't a dream, of course, is that the casino takes your money, which you are more apt to give them when your consciousness doesn't really understand what's going on.
In other words, although you may intellectually understand what happens at a casino, your consciousness thinks that gambling money in the casino is part of the "not real" world. It is in the interest of the decorators to emphasize that everything is fake, to make the entire experience seem fake. The casino succeeds in returning money itself to an object with no inherent value or inherent reality. (Again, taken from Wiki)
Hyperrealism @ Life
How does it fit into the office?
You come to the office, in the late hours of morning, after cursing through the traffic and surviving through the fine roads... you are frustrated.... you dont have an agenda for the day.... and then you flash your card at the security, who would sniff you like a sniffer dog, before, it will let you in... and then you flash your card at two levels of gates, before you find your temporary abode... (which in sad cases, becomes, permanent) your chair!!!
You open your mail box, check your mails... and then respond to some of them.... there is certain firefighting to be done... there are certain TERs to be cleared... there are some necks, you want to wring...
The HR forgot to send you the appraisal letter... your pay raise hasn’t come through... you begin the day be sending them polite gentle reminders starting with the words, 'Dear...'... and so on, when there is nothing remotely ‘dear’ about ...they send equally sanctimonious replies... everyone is pretending that it is just another issue, which would be resolved.. depending on your designation reflecting in the outlook...
Everyone is polite, everyone thinks, that it is indeed a flat organization.. when everyone knows that it is not...
You respond to the latest proposal and then as you try to select a particular product, the competing practice would pitch in, trying to provide a 'better solution' to the client's problem... the other practice fights back, pitching in its people, for the 'on site'... and there is a merry polite fight... with secret alliances being made, understandings being created... and fiefdoms being encroached about... social networks being infiltrated...
And then, everyone has a lot of polite fun, no one pauses to wonder, 'Hey ! wasn’t it the same organization?" before, shrugging it off and diving back into the fight,...and shooting that mail @ speed of light !
Suddenly, the fire alarm rings and in this polite world of discreet mannerisms vanishes… everyone decides to have some fun… everyone knows that it is just another drill… everyone runs out of the building… the nice lady in corporate services informs you solemnly that it took them more time than the last years’ to evacuate the building… suddenly it starts to rains and the population runs back into the building at 1/4th the time it took to evacuate…
You come back, your concentration is long gone.. you settle for a game of solitaire…every now and then, you go and attend a con call… are not able to con much… come back, play more solitaire, and then prepare the minutes of call…
It is 6:45, time to leave…so you leave…. One more day of your life, going by, as it had been, for quite some time… nothing out of the ordinary, with its share of placid events… you cant differentiate one day from another… you sometime think of leaving the organization, but you know that in certain ways, you have been conditioned and being made co dependent in the polite structure of the organization you work in… and even if deeply, you know that it is time to move on, the fear of change grips you, like Shakespeare wrote years ago:

“That patient merit of the unworthy takes,When he himself might his quietus makeWith a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bournNo traveller returns, puzzles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan fly to others that we know not of?”

And then you reach home… play your usual rounds of computer games… and pretend to be the pharaoh of ancient Egypt… Your prospective girl friend calls .. and in the middle of all pleasantries, there is a certain cold calculations which are being done on both the sides.. and you know that this is something you don’t want… but still you play along…. Was this the life you imagined…? Or is there is a scope for something more… not in terms of materialism, but just about taking those first tentative steps towards the valleys you dreamt of, mountains you wanted to be conquered… something beyond pretensions and hypocrisy of the hyper reality… some place, where you don’t have to compromise on playing along… but someplace, where you create your own world…

If life is a play, then why can’t we write our own scripts?

Why should we put away our feelings in back burner…? why cant we simply follow our hearts and do what we want to do…? I say, that the dissatisfaction in life counts … that nagging feeling, even if everything in life is spic and span… , is what is left of you… … that is the foreword of your script… you just have to write your play…

Lage Raho Munnabhai ..Review

2006-09-13T22:29:00.000-07:00

I dont usually watch Hindi movies... but thanks to the traffic Jam yesterday, I managed to catch the movie Lage raho MunnaBhai , in the E Square multiplex (Pune), on the university road..(chose watching the movie over rotting for hours in the Jam) ... and it was not a regretable decision at all !

Lage raho MunnaBhai is a gem of a movie, which folds out well, tries the emotional trickery successfully, and ultimately makes you leave the theater with a glow on your face and a angelic circle hovering over your head....

The humor is not very subtle, but it is more, the colorfull screen play and the way humor, is sprinkled into it, that make LRMB, a treat to watch as well, as a movie 'with the message'.... Incidentally, the timing is ideal, with Gandhi Jayanti and all this Hulla Boo about singing Vande Mataram !

Sanjay Dutt and Ashrad Warsi have a brilliant chemistry... not limited to Employer- Employee or Mob Boss - Henchman... but that of a deep understanding friendship ! This spins off to a number of funny situtations and aspects that the movie brilliant exploits or brings to fore...

LRMB like recent Hindi films (RDB, KANK) , brings out a social issue, packaged in easily digestable hours of brilliant humor... and lots of color...
It is meant for all ages and the attendance in the theater corroborated that ! Two rows away, an elderly couple was clapping to the tunes of 'Ragupati raghav..' and two rows from the screen, a college crowd was laughing its gut out ! (in different sequences ! )

The thing is that if there is anything that this movie does, it is the fact that you cant help feeling happy and content after you have watched this flick ! even though you do realise, that , at its core, it is a new age, feel good 'masala film' !

My suggestion: Dont miss this one !! Everyone likes an angelic aura over the head after a show ! Helps you navigate the Pune potholes !

Magic realism

2006-09-11T03:43:00.000-07:00

Magic realism (or magical realism) is a literary genre in which magical elements appear in an otherwise realistic setting. As used today the term is broadly descriptive rather than critically rigorous.
Well, thats what Wiki says... And I dont agree with it... for me and my imagination, it is imperative, that magic realism and daily realism should criss cross with regular frequency and increasing intensity...
Instances of magic realism in my life:
1) A magical moon lit warm summer night, by the edge of a lake, with silent leaves, hustled on by the gentle breeze..
2) Few minutes before the storm, when the skies leave their traditional hues and trasform into a visual delight, by projecting lots of violet, dark blue and green, all over the heavens.... the winds are strong with the incense of wet earth...
3) Sitting by a meadow on a sunny day and being able to see a clump of dark blue clouds approaching... the whole body awaits the first drops of rains before sliding into suspended animation...
4) Seeing your dog, run up to you, and trying to lick you while trying to jump on you... you can see something akin to deep affection in its eyes, as you reach for its ears..
5) On a morning walk, you suddenly take an unknown turn and arrive in a green dreamy field with crops ripening in the gentle sun..and you never knew that such a place could exist, so near you..
6) Like reading a book, which is dull and boring, and even as you are entertaining the thoughts of abandoning it, a para down, suddenly the book springs a surprise so intense that you have to keep the book down for a few minutes to be able to absorb and be happy , and then resume the reading...
7) Exercising while cycling through wee hours of the morning... and having a work out on reaching home..
8) Traveling to your home town and the feeling you get 10 minutes before the train reaches your home station...
9) And above all, in some quite moments, when you catch yourself indulging in vivid dreams about your future home, so deeply that you can bet about the rooms you were wandering in...

I remember having a picture of peterpan while it flew in the star studded sky... I still have it... and his is a path, i want to frequnt every now and then, as I can...
Aah, enough with this gabble, this is what repeat viewing of the movie Vanilla Sky, does to you... enough of these lucid dreams.. and thinking about 'what is happiness to me'... time to get back to work...

Their words .... which are now mine

2006-08-31T23:38:00.000-07:00

These are the sentences, which I have found and collected over the years which appeal to me and tickle my intellect into general happiness. These would not be followed as they dont have any context... but I think my intellectual time capsule would be incomplete without these.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Peace is not an absence of war, it is a virtue, a state of mind, a disposition for benevolence, confidence, justice. '

The whole movie is kind of a blur - one long, unending descent into frequent watch-checking. A few things stand out. First of all, no matter what the situation, someone has a bad line of dialogue for it. Thus we have this memorable gem to immortalize alongside

"We'll always have Paris" and
"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!" -
"You can break my wrist, but I'm still going to kiss you!"

What style! What wit!

Then there's the scene where Lara tangles with a shark. As it's closing in for the kill, she punches it in the nose, causing it to turn tail and swim away.
Too bad Quint didn't know about this method of shark repellant in Jaws.

The Leaky Cauldron.org

Call this not fiction;
judge what’s real
By whom you gained
by what you feel.
Then follow fast
this faery light -
A three-year summer
ends tonight.

From: Abhishek_K
Sent: Friday, June 10, 2005 4:39 PM
To: Neha_Mittal
Subject: RE: Storm is here

Oh my lady….. I wouldn’t know any rhymes for in my heart I still am Peter Pan … and the wind is my bearer…. And the trees my sway …. The coolness lulls me to sleep while I slide away astray

Famous last words
"I wonder what this button does..."

"It's probably just a rash..."

"I wonder where the mother bear is..."

"Nice doggy..."

"That's odd"

"Watch this!"

Two drifters, off to see the world,
there’s such a lot of world to see
-- from Moon River

The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and
richness to life that nothing else can bring.

-- Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) Irish Dramatist and Poet

Q. Any positive thoughts to end this dark conversation?
A. Let me share a sweet little thing. I saw a news report about two Adivasi girls getting married to each other. And the whole village was saying: if that’s what they want, it’s fine. They had this ceremony, with all the rituals and customs, and they let them get married. That’s a moment of magic. It reveals their level of modernity, of their sophistication. Of their beauty.
(Arundhati Roy's Interview, Outlook, Independence day, 2005)

May we never find space so vast,
planets so cold, heart
and mind so empty
that we cannot fill them
with love and warmth...
(Philadelphia)

And life shall go on
"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1, the Holy Bible)

.. already I realize the tremendous effort it requires not to be taken over by the Civil Service. My Minister's room is like a padded cell, and in certain ways I am like a person who is suddenly certified a lunatic and put safely into this great, vast room, cut off from real life and surrounded by male and female trained nurses and attendants. When I am in a good mood they occasionally allow an ordinary human being to come and visit me; but they make sure that I behave right, and that the other person behaves right; and they know how to handle me. Of course, they don't behave quite like nurses because the Civil Service is profoundly deferential – 'Yes, Minister! No, Minister! If you wish it, Minister!'

K PAX
Director : Iain Softley. Screenplay: Charles Leavit based on the novel by Gene Brewer

I have arrived. My travels are over for the time being.

I didn't arrive by train.

I'm an alien. Don't worry, I'm not going to leap out of your chest.

What Einstein actually said was that nothing can accelerate to the speed of light because its mass would become infinite. Einstein said nothing about entities already traveling at the speed of light or faster.

You know, for an educated person Mark, you repeat things quite a bit. Are you aware of that?

Why is a soap bubble round? Because it is the most energy efficient configuration. Similarly, on your planet I look like you; on K-PAX I look like a K-Paxian.

Every being in the universe knows right from wrong, Mark.

Let me tell you something, Mark. You humans, most of you, subscribe to this policy of an eye for an eye, a life for a life, which is known throughout the universe for its... stupidity. Even your Buddha and your Christ had quite a different vision; but nobody's paid much attention to them, not even the Buddhists or the Christians.

Prot told me to find the Bluebird of Happiness... Its a task. The first of three.

Doctor. Patient. Interesting distinction.

For your information: All beings have the capacity to cure themselves, Mark. This is something we've known on K-PAX for millions of years.

Tell me... uh, do you know of any missing astro-physicists?

You'd be suprised how much energy is in a beam of light.

I take it my calculations help explain the perturbations you've been seeing in the rotation pattern of your binary star, but have been unable to explain until... this moment.

Patients do not escape from this institution. They don't escape. I'm going to have a great time explaining this to the state board. I've got psychotics on the fourth floor packing up their sneakers because they all think they're going off to K-PAX. Find him.

There's enough life on earth to fill fifty planets... plants, animals, people, fungi, viruses... all jostling to find their place. Bouncing off each other, feeding off each other... connected.

Nobody wants. Nobody needs. On K-PAX when I'm gone, nobody misses me. There would be no reason to. And yet I sense that when I leave here... I will be missed.

I will admit the possibility that I am Robert Porter, if you will admit the possibility that I am from K-PAX. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a beam of light to catch.

Playfulness – A playful lupine (wolf) holds its tail high and wags it. The wolf may frolic and dance around, or bow by placing the front of its body down to the ground, while holding the rear high, sometimes wagged. This is reminiscent of the playful behavior executed in domestic dogs.

"A fanatic is one who redoubles his effort when he has forgotten his aim."–George Santayana;

"when someone is involved in something entirely without merit, one withdraws".

Another more effective method is practiced in the Indian Subcontinent which is far less physical and brutal and more mental. It is called the "elephant trap". The following is taken from a newsletter. "From when an elephant is a baby they tie him for certain periods with a rope to a tree. The young elephant tries his hardest to escape, he pulls and wriggles and jumps and crawls yet the rope just tightens and to the tree it remains tied. Learning that, the elephant doesn’t try to escape and accepts his confinement. A couple of years pass and the elephant is now an adult weighing several tons. Yet the trainer continues to tie the elephant to the tree with the same rope he’s always used, for the simple reason that the elephant has the concept in his mind that the rope is stronger than him. Abiding to this conditioning the elephant is trapped for life. To break free all the elephant has to do is erase that limiting thought for in fact he is free to go."

The evening which started off with me wanting to storm out of the office, and culminating with a conversation with a doorman who claimed to have psychic powers

Nicknamed "Bengal Tiger", "Prince of Calcutta" and also affectionately called "Dada" ("older brother" in Bengali) by his team-mates and "Lord Snooty" by his opponents, he plays aggressively, while off the field

Yes, in saying all this, I risk crossing over from being the voice of reason to the voice of hope - but that is a risk I am willing to take.

It is our connection to a reality that is greater than ourselves. Without it, we get trapped within the limited, blinke red, linear logic of habit. This is why we must live innovation and not merely aspire to it.

A friend took an autorickshaw from his home for a long ride in Bangalore, at the end of which he realised he was... without his wallet. Had this occurred in Madras, the aatokaaran would have combined with others of his ilk to perform my friend's last rites -- after collecting everything of value on his person. All the Bangalorean, on the other hand, did was to offer to collect the amount from my friend's house the next day.

IT'S HAPPENED AGAIN. KOANI (pet wolfie) IS LOOSE. It's always the same scenario: somehow she's gotten out of the pen or off the leash. She dances just out of reach and I can see the gears in her brain turning, "What's first: Killing that dog down the road? How about those sheep in the pasture on top of the hill? Ooh, look! What's that little human doing in the driveway?" Before mayhem ensues, I wake up and relief floods through me. Twelve long years and no disasters. And that is what it's like to live with a wolf.

Before embarking on reasons why having a wolf of your very own is not as romantic as you may imagine, let me state unequivocally that we love this animal. We love her like a psychopathic sibling who is in turn charming and frightening. We do not love her like a child. We do not love her like we love our dog, Indy. We love her like you might love an adult being from another planet-a being that is smart, yet utterly amoral to human values, and for whom you have been entrusted with the responsibility to protect from humans and to protect humans from. We would not find it romantic to cage this alien, fasten a collar around its neck, or attach it to us with a leash.

Besides, she's happy. She is never more alive than when she is in the middle of a kill. And the adrenaline rush continues for several hours—you can see it in her eyes. Those eyes say, "I am a wolf. I kill for my living. I'm fully alive right now."

Then, as Weide went to get Koani, Tucker prepped the students by asking them to be quiet and still, and not to pet her. First Indy entered in typical dog fashion, bounding into the room and wagging his tail. Then Tucker asked the children to notice how Koani entered: with calm dignity, her yellow eyes blazing with curiosity.

He puffed away in irritation, and said "You wouldn't understand"!!

Me no understand. Me get even more confused when the next day at office, I was trying to debate the virtues of hair straightening against re-bonding with some female colleagues

As a joke, he puts his bride's wedding ring on the finger and dances around it, singing and reciting his marriage sacrament. The woman's corpse emerges from the ground (with the man's ring on her finger) and declares herself married to the man.

On October 24, 1995, two IAF pilots, Gp Capt S. Mukherjee and Wg Cdr Y.S. Babu, flying a trisonic MiG-25 witnessed for the first time in history, a total solar eclipse from an altitude of 80,000 feet. They were flying from Kalpi to Ikadala, south-west of Kanpur. This is an excerpt from Wg Cdr Babu’s account of the sortie, published in an official air force journal, Flight Safety:

Our attention was focused on flying parameters and it was only when the red glow of the instruments panel filled the cockpit that we realised that the sunlight had gone. It had become a dark night and the sky was filled with stars all round. In spite of the foresight, planning and expectations, it was all so sudden, so eerie and so exciting. The whole process was like rapidly fast forwarding a sunset and then a sunrise.

At 80,000 feet (25kms) above sea level, pilots do see stars and the sky appears grey rather than blue because of the absence of dust, air and water molecules. But this time, during totality, the sky suddenly turned inky dark without notice. The curvature of the Earth could also be seen from this height.

At a speed of Mach 2.5, we got to see about 90 seconds of totality, while those on ground got to see only 55 seconds.

"When you fly at those altitudes there's a sudden change in environment. Now, you see the sky as blue, when you go to those heights the sky is dark. You can see the stars during the day-light, you can see the curvature of the earth. Then you suddenly feel you don't belong to this earth, you don't want to come down to land. You want to stay there. There's a distinct feeling of aloofness that you don't belong to this earth," said Air Vice Marshal J.S.Grewal (Retd), one of the pilots of the pioneering batch, which trained in the then Soviet Union.

Mars has a pink sky and blue sunsets, exactly the opposite of what we have on Earth, with blue sky and reddish sunsets

If the past tells us anything, it is that we have a choice, squander our potential with wars, overpopulation and selfishness,
or seek out brave new worlds. Let this be our passing moment: way back in 1969 we walked here, on another world, and saw our own...
...our blue world, little yet grand, and so far, our only home.

k... well, my sweet, i shall slide away then... to the scottish gwen, with the memories of you to last.... and your thoughts in my heart...

My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.

if u hv to be praised u will be praised

about "a man forever voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone."

He also noted that Tolkachev was probably one of the few sober Russians in Moscow on this major national holiday.

knight's place is in the battlefield and jungles where he battles mighty armies... and old witches... should he always sit below an inboxy tree...waiting for a leaf to fall

Luann:
My dad is typical for a baby-boomer middle aged man: he's clueless but harmless
She'll either end up in a nut house or the White House. Same thing, I guess.
But recently I've seen cracks in the perfection that make me question his fabulosity.
Well, take all those villains, roll them into one, multiply by 9000, add 5 pounds of makeup, subtract the brains and put the whole mess into a sleazy miniskirt and you have Tiffany.
He's no doubt the dumbest person in school. But I guess that's why he's so happy.
With her wall full of important academic certificates, Miss Phelps has lots of degrees, but no temperature
Generally, I don't have many opinions about teachers. But I really feel for poor Mr. Fogarty. If ever there was someone in the wrong profession, it's him. Shakespearian scholar? Yes. Literary researcher? You bet. Author of 'Grammatical Analysis Of Post-Modern Poetry'? Absolutely. But put him in a room full of hyperkenetic, hormone-pumped teens and his temper boils to 'Terminally Furious.'
This is one strange girl. I don't know much about her except that she's a pal of Tiffany's (that tells me she's an ignorant slimeball) and that she's sort of a Goth. Anyone who wears gray lipstick and a nail color called 'asphalt' probably sleeps hanging upside down. Frankly, I'm surprised she comes out in the daytime. Oh, and notice the choker? Hides the fang marks.
Ok, look at this gorgeous girl. Now imagine her with my brother. Kind of makes your head explode, doesn't it?

"Superman stands for what is powerful, clear, bright, noble and just: Batman is dark, obsessive and vengeful. Because they are so different, they will inevitably end up clashing. It will be a battle of the titans."

If the North Koreans launched 10 Taepodong 2 missiles and none worked, he added, "then you can make fun of them."

Anyways, after a long 3 hours of standing that I am not used to doing (come on, its not like I stand for 3 hours at a stretch, everyday. What the fuck am I? A farm animal?)

Swordfish isn't art, but it's not shit, either.

Shadows cast fearsome daggers into the light. Buildings are exaggerated in their architectural details, until they seem a shriek of ornamentation.

Nash became aware of a mild form of echolalia: deep, deep, interesting, interesting.

The Phantom of Fine Hall - a former tradition - before 1993, this was the legend of an obscure, shadowy figure who would infest Fine Hall (the Mathematics department's building) and write complex equations on blackboards. The former Phantom, by then also haunting the computation center where courtesy of handlers in the math department he was a sacred monster with a guest account, shared the 1994 Nobel prize and is now a recognized member of the University community.

Where the statue stood
Of Newton with his prism and silent face
The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.
(William Wordsworth)

It must be heartbreaking to be able to appreciate true genius and yet fall just short of it yourself. A man can spend his entire life studying to be a mathematician--and yet watch helplessly while a high school dropout, a janitor, scribbles down the answers to questions the professor is baffled by.

``Good Will Hunting'' is the story of how this kid's life edges toward self-destruction and how four people try to haul him back.

The beautiful thing about mathematics is that you can't prove it except by its own terms.
"That so few now dare to be eccentric marks the chief danger of our time". — John Stuart Mill, On Liberty.

"I wan't afraid of being born, then why should I be afraid of death."

The film provided me with one of the most unusual movie-going experiences I have endured. When I walked into the theater at 9:45 last Thursday evening, about 80 of the 250 seats were filled. Those viewers - mostly male, all college age - jumped up as one upon my entrance and yelled, "Snakes on a Plane! Snakes on a Plane! Yeah! Wahooo! Show us your snake!" They then began to bat around an inflatable snake like a beach ball at a baseball game. This special treatment was not reserved for me - everyone got it as they entered.

It appeared that the majority of those who entered the theater before me had gotten a boost of liquid courage earlier in the evening. The atmosphere replicated that of a frat party. Then the girls started arriving, which added to the surreal atmosphere. Most of them did not appear drunk, but that didn't stop them from joining in fun. I started looking around for the Girls Gone Wild cameraman. (The only ones to do any flashing and removing of shirts, however, were the guys.)

Some foolish part of me had assumed things would quiet down a little once the movie started. I expected the usual reactions to certain scenes and lines, but there were about 10 guys who continued yelling "Snakes on a Plane!" or "Show me your snake" or (to the girls) "Let me put my snake in your plane!" At one point, a girl gamely responded, "Is that a snake or a worm?" I can't say what provoked the comment because it happened behind me. I was busy watching a girl on the screen get her nipple nibbled on by a cobra.

There was a Sardarji who was down on his luck. In order to raise some money he decided to kidnap a kid and hold him for ransom. He went to the playground, grabbed a kid, took him behind a tree, and told him, "I've kidnapped you."

Sunny day Saturday

2006-08-25T22:07:00.000-07:00

The best thing about this place, where I live at is, that it is just opposite to Pashan lake and on the fringe of a village of Sus.

Today when i woke up, i found the whole place nicely sunny and breezy.... just like early summers...We have finally shrugged off the rains... and moving ahead...

Speaking of moving ahead, I just got a pay raise... which is quite significant... Hell, all pay raises are significant ! :-)

I told my mom about it and she was all..'oh now you are earning enough money to take a wife' and I was like, 'I VALUE MY FREEDOM and FIEFDOM! ' and being as cunning as she is, she mobilized my brother to snoop about in my life to find if there is a significant other which I could get married to and likes...

Obviously, my brother, displaying all zeal, scanned through my orkut account, checked all my scraps, read all that was in this blog, and then bashed his head against the wall, when he obviosuly did not find anything incriminating..

mom, on learning this, became a bit desperate, and then started suggesting all kinds of wierd names.... starting with one friend from child hood,... and it was so crazy...

The craziness compounded by the simple fact that before I started working, my mom, fought tooth and nail to keep any female presence out of my life... she found them to be open distractions to my academic endeavors.. (ha ha ) and now she has morphed into this lady whose only concern is depletion of my marriageable shelf life..

And I have to travel to chennai for a training.. and for some project work and getting together the newsletter team, I have formed...

Work work... but today is a sunny day... :-)

Happiness Overdose

2006-08-20T21:01:00.000-07:00

Apprantly I counted my chickens before they hatched ... I was so happy yesterday, that after the last night's blog, the happiness overdose gave me a fever, and by late night, I was running a good temperature...

Too much of anything is bad... age old wisdom, but seldom followed... and often repented...

And god, it is Monday...

A radiant heart....

2006-08-20T08:17:00.000-07:00

When I was young, (pre teen types 12-13, I postulate..) I had formulated a personal tradition of sorts for Diwalis. For each Diwali, the festival of lights, I used to go to the field adjacent to my old Bokaro quarter with a small pick axe and dig some earth, to make a 'diya' or an earthen lamp...

I used to cart the fresh dug soil home, (to my mom's horror) and use the immaculately clean balcony as my workshop to bring the diya to life... It served two purposes: it was a great way to spend time till the evening when the fireworks would beign and I could test my home made projectiles to heaven (or my brother's ass) and the second purpose being: It felt great to create something which could glow along with a million diyas on diwali...

It is a great feeling to create something, out of nothing, at all... What was that diya, except a mould of earth, within the earth, buried, without any purpose to call its own... I dug it out, i gave it a form, I gave it a purpose and it did then, radiate the earth and my heart, each diwali...

As I grew, I sort of forgot that ... my urge to create shifted to creating better, long reaching rockets... and as fate would have it, the aerodynamics were such that, each projectle could allmost by chance, guide itself to my brother, each diwali... later he learnt, to be on a safe distance... and I shifted to excel sheets...

I love working on excel... (god... now it is a post on Excel...how boring can I get?) I feel something of a pride, every time I work on those cells, creating structures, dynamic user friendly systems, out of the void, out of an empty sheet...

I had had a great weekend... it was eso sunny today....smelled like summer, in midst of winer winds... the sun was radiant... reminded of my old diyas... and the hills which overlook my apartment complex, alternated between the slumber of clouds and basked in the radiance of shining sun... this duel in heaven was quite enjoyable, only because of the fact, that it did not rain... and roads have potholes which are visible now...

And best of all, I did happen to do some shopping on saturday... and my catch inlcuded a lot of DVDs and a good MP3... with some really good rock... you know, peppy rock.... like Goo Goo dolls...

I dont miss Goa anymore... my life is content and my heart radiant...

"oh my lady, I dont know any rhymes of mine, I dont care....
As my heart holds the wind's sway, my mind graps this sunny day...
..while my fickle soul, bright as this day, ...slides away astray .."

Nice poem, eh? Just wrote it... that is a creator to you...

On the highway next to yours..

2006-08-17T06:39:00.000-07:00

It is an empty Microsoft word page I am starting on… and yet I am feeling so fulfilled post my recent trip to Goa that this article seems almost unnecessary…

But I know those who are waiting for me to document, how Goa felt, what and how I saw Goa and my usual quirky tales...so here goes…

I see the straight road to Ribandar and GIM each time; my bus enters the twin bridges linking Mapusa and Panjim…. There are more beautiful sites on the other side in Panjim city, but my eyes , always look southwards… seeking out a place where I spent two rather unique years …

Years, when somehow my unrelenting inelastic brain, got so stretched that now, it is rather stretchy … : - )

Last Saturday, as I boarded one of those efficient and cost effective pilots (Bike Taxis) to GIM, I wondered as to how much a place could model how you think and what you think… I guess, the degree to which you can open your mind depends on how comfortable are you with a particular place… and GIM, though claustrophobic at times…did help me grow…

The river flashed by the road as the bike picked up speed… and before I knew it , I was passing by GIM onwards to Hotel Seema… I met my batch mates who had landed minutes before me … then an hour later, batch of 2005 proceeded on the road to GIM, on to college….

We reached the rain washed quad and the group dispersed again, to pursue their avenues of nostalgia… their nooks and corners in the campus, their hangouts (almost Jaggu for all those things as it packs at least one familiar face for all the batches…)

The events which followed, are nothing in particular… it was more like a constant forever changing streams of feelings, sweet, nostalgic, electric, yet serenely awe inspiring… if I was to describe them in a sequential order, it would seem like I am ranting off my travel itinerary… which would be boring… so let me set the perspective…
I know, perhaps, I should write at length about the structures that GIM is made of, but it is people who weave a history around it…

Its about a girl… I had known her through orkut, I liked her pictures she took while back packing through Europe and she liked what I wrote about them…

I called her below LH and for a second, was scared to hear her groggy voice… I almost feared a rebuke before she recognized my voice… and , then she came over to the balcony and I saw her in person for the first time… it was some time, before this angel descended from her castle that is LH… while I calculated the number of man-hours guys lost while waiting outside the LH, trying to control their instinct to risk the Rs 500 penalty for barging into the LH !

And then a very interesting day followed… a day meandering through the institute, meeting folks… and general gossip… what I found really endearing about Abhishikta was the absence of any baggage…which is not a persistent trademark of ladies I have known… At a level, I admire her for so much she is… nothing at that level really relates to me, but there are things, which everyone with a heart should aspire for…

Simple things like, gentle thirst to come across beautiful things in life… notice, I wrote, ‘gentle thirst’… not an obsessive unquenching thirst… but serene, getting-there kind of longing (which is better) … like coming across mimosa leaves while walking on a road…standing by a meadow and thinking about clicking a snap, postulating, if she had a camera… (Which, by the way, she has, a digital cam, settings of which she is never satisfied with) …

And even though, she might seem a bit subdued to those who come across her… it is when she relates something which amuses her , or something she is passionate about.. and then suddenly those eyes would flicker, just for a second like a sun, and instantly you relax in its brilliance…

And as I have always said, ‘Each person is a world’ and her world is a world of well set dreams, which she is working for… and I know that she will get there … she is compassionate as well… so the milestones wont be achieved by trodden fingers of fellow aspirants…

Oh we had fun together… the dwarf incident and her tales about certain professors… loved it … And general calm companionship… sharing of vulnerabilities… I am glad to have finally forged a good friendship with a world which is comfortable and beautiful all at the same time…

Ok, this article is seriously biased towards her now… and I should write more about other things I noticed and did… One night, when I was standing outside Jaggu’s I narrated loudly about all the haunted spots in GIM and I knew a little girl was listening intently to each word… and as I came to talk about LH, she strolled over inquiring about the ghostly denizens of LH, which I had estimated that she would, given her eyes which were expanding as she was listening it all, a distance away… Then she proceeded to narrate about the paranormal incidents her ladyship had witnessed herself and lived through it…

And I also noticed one girl, made in charge of clicking snaps all over the place during the alumni meet… it was very amusing… her little frame, moving , or rather jumping about clicking snaps… I mean, you walk out of the classroom and there she is! and as you are grabbing a plate , there she is ! I liked her ! I couldn’t resist talking to her… she was soo tiny ! like a little frolicking puppy !

In the reunion, the new director, (his face is a bit porcelain like, a bit waxy, almost edible), talked about creating a ‘Ribandar plan’ to discuss what path should GIM take.. … this was not expected… I mean, it is ok, if it would have been a general discussion, to discuss GIM’s plans… or the areas of improvement… but creating something of a road map at this level, in a day is very myopic… I mean, we don’t even have an established mission statement… (Ramesh came up with something in the recruitment brochure) but I think it is not institutionalized as yet… these things take time and our consulting...

The discussions with the faculty… in the areas of systems and operations seemed fruitful but they can never replace Bando !

I chose not to go to the party they had in the night… I never liked GIM parties… institutionalizing ghettos of alliances of conveniences… my memories were better framed as I sat near the mess, playing with a little kitten (a real kitten) and talking …

The weather was forgiving… and I caught up in sudden flashes of shower…. Was refreshing, to be drenched in pure water, instead of sulfur mixed acid rain, which scorches me in Pune traffic jams…

On my last day there… I remember walking around the campus… waiting for the dreaded evening to tick in… but I knew I had to go… they were all there, running around the quad, trying to make their submissions in the subjects I had a fleeting memories about… ran into that little snap taking kid again who went on upon the submissions upon her tiny frame… and then I realized.. that I had been on that road that they were walking… I could just encourage them from the sidelines… and travel alongside on a different road with occasional glances on what they were up to… ‘

Yes, I did gain a precious friend who taught me a few things… I grew as a person… and that is something to be thankful for, besides those walks in Divar, on that park the church on top of the hill… attaining my personal list of things to do… which were somehow dreamt about, back then… and were almost a wistful trifle, had it not been for this trip….

And now I am back to Pune and its roads… with little gentle memories… like lingering fragrances carrying over time, filling my highway as well this word file which when I began, was once obliviously blank… ….

A visitor to the hill

2006-08-14T08:56:00.000-07:00

I know that it is a literary fiefdom that this tree on the hill symbolizes…but tonight as on 14th August, 2006, 9:47PM, GIM, I am proud to have the footprint of a dear friend on this blog…:

She writes:
““am so glad that I met you comet....to find a person whos ideas,thought processes... are class apart..and who still manages to be a guy next door...so down to earth.Will always cherish the discussion of those mosaic of glasses.....being you i discoverd not only about you.but about..my own self....thanks for being there..."-We r friends forever..:) - Abhishikta

My thoughts are on my shirt

2006-08-08T03:03:00.000-07:00

It’s a hustle and bustle world out there. There is so much beauty that we call our metropolis.Our metropolis has so many moving parts. Some of themmove harmoniously, while other move to their own nonrhythmic drum. Sometimes I feel like I don’t stream aright rhythm in me. They who live here, their glossyeyes turned only to the blue collar frame of thingswhile I look toward to the fuchsia and magenta huesthat dreams are made of. There is so much beauty andhistory held in them to move harmoniously, much unlikeothers who beat to their own non rhythmic drum. Sometimes I feel , I don’t stream right within thebricks of these urban infrastructures … but theychoose only to note that it houses the vital mechanicsin which they roof hop, at how they scurry to and fro,with no true destination , …. No true destiny …..My thoughts are on my shirt …

Promotion and Lunacy

2006-08-03T09:09:00.000-07:00

I am a bit numb right now.... it is like being that point in being happy that is ecstactic to the point of complete exhaustion!

For the last few days, things have been very hectic... I had cracked a bit, because appraisal results were delayed... I thought, I had reached a stagnant point in my career...

Then today, the results finally came... and to my delight, i found that I had been promoted!!!
And I was so happy...

And then of course, as things go... a lady friend visited my bay with me..... and I exclaimed, "AAAH! A BEAUTIFUL LADY HAS WALKED INTO THE CES BAY !" I gobbeled that out without so much an iota of any thought... and instantly regreted it.... and as was expected, suddenly bays around me had curious heads shooting up to gaze at the lady who was obviously embarrased...

I tried apologizing later... she seemed to accept it... she was used to me being crazy at times... and, suddenly I was not so happy anymore... it was like a void opening up between me and the distant shore of happiness....

I know, eventually, I shall slip back to my old carefree ways... butI seriously goofed up today...

But you know what, you should have seen her today... she was enchanting in her black attire... it was enough to drive any sane man up the wall... just imagine what it did to me... some one whose, lunatic nodes are always throbbing with eccentricity...

And the strangest thing is that she has this amazing way of prjecting herself when she is all decked up... it is like she applies some make up here and a nice dress there.... and instantly turns into the most beautiful girl in the world...

God it is hard to work in my bay with thisbeautiful distraction around... but you know I secretly love this...

Lady in the water .....ZONK MY FACE ON THE LAND!!!!

2006-07-29T08:41:00.000-07:00

Tell me this ! tell me this!
Imagine you are watching something serious...by serious, I mean something as ridiculous as believing that a water nymph could reside in your pool and who is pursued by the grass wolf thing who can only be stopped by tree monkey things ..the sound is scary…. We are all waiting for an eagle to come and take the nyph away and then suddenly, you can see a BIG FAT TEET OF THE MICROPHONE POKING FROM THE TOP OF THE SCENE!
And not only a few scenes, when I could forgive it as an editing mistake!… but persistently at each scene… you hear me !!? At EACH scene !
Please don’t take me wrong! I liked Village… and most of the stuff that Mr. M Night Shyamlan comes up with… I felt people were not very fair to village and I loved the beautiful visual poetry ! Crazy as the plot was, it became believable at some time… it was touching scary and beautiful and technically flawless… but LADY in the water is a debacle and the worst English movie I have ever scene…

God… Why did he have to be of Indian Origin! ? Night, usually content with two minute cameos in other movies, probably made this movie only because he could hog the camera… As much mysticism, I like, and a person as imaginative as me, had to leave the theater before the movie finished, because I couldn’t take it anymore…
I prefer the potholed roads outside the e square multiplex !

Tomorrow I go to see Pirates of the Caribbean: dead man’s chest, I hope it does not give me a dazed look (corroborated by the photograph below) as the lady did. God What a Godawful movie !!

PS: the leading lady i.e. Ms. Bryce was born on the same day as I? Does this mean that people with my birthdate and year are loony ?

Voyage through the strange sea of thought ...alone

2006-07-23T07:34:00.000-07:00

I remember one incident back in GIM.

I was very tired.. a little drunk (I am always a little drunk, not wasted)..when I attended one group meeting at 1 in the morning, at Badal's room. It was a completely alien group, different from the usual combo, I configured myself into..We were to present on Marketing strategy for one of the B schools..

I wanted to sleep... and Marketing strategy was being catered to by a visiting fac... and as tradition is, no one was taking it seriously but even so, someone had to present and so there we were ... wasting time formally..

And we were going around in circles, there was no concrete strategy coming up... and then out of the blue.. something came to me... I decided on adopting a modular programs for the B school... course packages, something akin to the workshops at corporate level... only Branded, run in sync with the regular programs which would be phased out sequentially... I drew one diagram on it in powerpoint...

It suddenly made sense... I told the group my point, showed them my slide, evoked empty stares... and as things usually go, was told to present my own slide since I was the only one who could explain it..

We were given our slides to work on... and departed to our rooms to complete our part... saved it on a central network folder and at 3 AM, I finally went to sleep...

Next day during presentation, I clicked on my portion of the ppt, and, when the whole table came on the slide show, there was a certian wave through the class... some one yelled, "Which DSS did you use to make it"... I replied "Powerpoint"..

After the other presentations, we learnt that we scored the highest... I shook hands in the alien group ..and was happy that afternoon... because my view was ratified...

To this day, i dont know how that particular idea came to me... it was like suddenly waking up to a dream...
Can Intelligence strike you when you least expect it? Or is it a function of the variations on your brain surface?

Calling out into the night

2006-07-19T09:26:00.000-07:00

I am blogging away into the night, not knowing if any one could read this...Its like being in the forest..calling out for some one or something...

It is like being alone, haunting a mansion, while the lightening, sparks the cloudy night outside... the blaze of gigawatts hit the earth and flash away into the wet earth... and the forest shines momentarily... its wet leaves shine into the sudden sun...

I pause my stumbling in the forest to listen to the leaves, whisper back...
I pause my haunting in the mansion to listen to the distant thunder disappearing into the earth...And then sing out into the night... my vocal chords stretched into ecstacy...my beat under the stars... heavens tune into me... and then I am calm and serene again...

Then it dawns on me, that night doesnt need me... the forest doesnt hold me back... it was I all along... and I smile and welcome the heavenly spark to the earth again and smell the wet earth in all its glory... and oblivion...

My Sonic wall

2006-07-16T09:03:00.000-07:00

I was on a morning walk with Vidhan yesterday and we were talking about Mumbai blasts... and then it struck me that how non linear life really is...one moment it is there, with its baggage of perceived mundanities and things we think are trivial, and the next moment, a mind is extinguished…

… so on the way back from Vidhan’s place, I turned my bike toward Plugin electronic shop in Aundh and over the next half hour, bought a 21 inch C-TV, DVD player and an outlandish 2000 W Home theater system.

I was thinking of buying a TV and its peripherals when I was to reach some X Rupees as a ‘safe bank balance’, it came to me, that I probably don’t have to wait…

The goods were delivered the same day… and I spent the day, happily installing, the systems.. it is a very cozy set up… 5 speakers, surround sound.. sound as I never heard before, with so much clarity…

When the goods were delivered, both of my maid servants came to my living room to investigate the TV… there were two people from Plugin as well… my living room which is usually quite empty, was crowded… and then I thought, that there was a kid there as well… I thought it might be one of the maidservants’ kids, and then to my amazement, I found that it was Rani, the dog! She was also curious as to what the whole hullabaloo was about and came to investigate, instead of sneaking into my other bed room to deposit her fur on one of the beds… I uttered a squeal of exasperated delight and lifted Rani and deposited her outside my door, with a good twisting of her ears… !

The systems were up and running, nicely…and I loved the 3 D sound… the MP3 that I had listened to on my puny computer, were amazingly clear and powerful!

Now the next logical step was a cable connection…. I thought about it, even contacted a ruffian who specializes in installing the cable in my society.. he demanded an exorbitant rate… I was to pay his today… I spent the night watching some TV… and found that I was not spending much of my time doing things which I normally do.. like reading, playing on my computer, walking … I watched some News channel and I hated it… every minute of it… every simpering news anchor, trying to pack off news programs like ‘love guru’ at prime time ! It was morning, when I decided that the cable was not for me, and I would be healthier and happier without it… Ignorance is bliss and there is a good sense of freedom to it…. Now , if I want to watch something, then I would simply go and buy/rent a DVD… I would not be watching the crap, some dim witted fool in Mumbai wants me to see… even so, I would have let the cable be, had it not been for the cable guy… I requested him today that could he please extend the wire to go over my curtain hangings so that they not litter the floor… and he crapped about how he would loose some feet of wire…I told him that he was already charging so much.. he was not listening… then he said that he will disconnect the connection… the nerve of him! I asked him if there was any solution? He suggested that I should watch DVD player istead… that outraged me…. I was his client.. and he had the nerve to behave this way when I am paying him for this… doesn’t he know that his market is going to disappear in some years when all would switch to DTH set ups… so I told the bastard to disconnect the set up…and he said that he would come by later… I was angry.. …I marched to his house in a slum near by and returned the cable wire to him…
He tried to threaten me, I laughed at him… I am heavier than him…

Anyway, today I shopped for a lot of DVDs…and I love the sonic walls I have erected around me, protecting me from the crap that is put on TV these days..

Old Song on the Expressway

2006-07-14T10:31:00.000-07:00

The lady beckoned me to her. She smiled and said, "The girl you were talking to... is she your fiancee ?"

"No Ma'am" ... I was wide eyed, nervous and my face resembled that of a goldfish.

"Why dont you date her?" pat came another volley.

"No, she is too old!" , the lines that I had memorized were lost in this confusion.. She smirked... and in a measure, derived some pelasure out of it... the interview realigned itself... a few more obvious questions, and obvious replies and I got my Visa. I ran out of the consulate... I was happy... there was no more anxiety... things worked out... my apprehensions did not... I loved Mumbai !

As I sped back on the Mumbai Pune expressway, through the misty western ghats, in a colleague's car, I could not help but think about Women.. not in the usual way, but trying to gently think about them, without analyzing them..

I remember watching 'Munich', a few months ago.. and there was a particular scene, a brief snippet of a 70's disco jazz kind of thing... with a few ladies dancing on the stage by a river, wearing typical 70s attire... and allmost instantly there was a ripple of female laughter in the cinema hall. I still dont understand, why it was only the ladies who laughed... and the laugh was a bit sarcastic...but with a lot of mirth..as if its a secret joke that only they could understand..

Then again, there is a strange side to them as well... I picked out one chair for waiting for my number to be called... I asked the girl sitting on the next chair, if it was vacant...she told me it was...As I waited on one of those chairs in the consulate, waiting for my number to be called... we had a very very small talk... I asked her the token number, she asked mine... then we waited.. as one was not supposed to talk, while waiting inside the consulate... Then when they announced my number, I was startled...the girl sitting along side gestured me on... it was a crazy moment.. for a moment, we shared the same fears, same uncertainity... I did not even get a chance to ask her name... but I remember her tonight in a wistful way... had it been some other place, some other time, would we have 'interacted' in the way we did...

It was late evening when I was on my way back to Pune... and Mumbai Pune expressway was beautiful as well as distant...misty hills sped by... the car occasionally passed by hamlets, barely being made out by thier little electric bulbs, blinking through their little windows...hidden in the mist...perhaps the huts wanted to be obscured... they cherished their privacy...

And suddenly, a very old Hindi song, played on the radio..."pukarata chala hoon mein..".. My dad loves this song..I had heard it innumerable times, while at home.. hated it at times... never understood what it meant... and as i sped on the expressway, to the future, i planned for... I listened to the song of the past... and I felt content, and I liked that song....

Next day, of course, they bombed Bombay.

Strange weather and Rani

2006-07-08T01:26:00.000-07:00

It is a strange magical weather outside..something like the painting, posted alongside.

Sometimes it rains, sometimes the sun shines through the gloom... grey to golden, golden to grey... intermittent rains in between...

The dark clouds, are uncertain, right now... sun, hopefull..

The rains have washed away the shroud of dirt and there is so much light outside... a yellowish glow and it is 2 in the afternoon right now... the breeze is fun to swim in... and my heart is serene and happy now ..

I love this painting ... it is filled with so much imagination and romance... and bravery... makes you feel so liberated...
The clouds loom at the horizon, the road beckons your courage... the country side receding into oblivion, being exposed to the horizon's glory... but the clouds would eventually recede ...

I leave for Mumbai tomorrow.. and I hope it is not submerged yet...There is this sweet dog in my colony ..her name is Rani..She is very calm and serene with children, who come to pull her ears and pet her..but as soon as she spots me, in the complex where I live, she bounds to me, and jumps up to place her mud soaked paws on my chest.

This is a regular fixture... but I sort of avoid this when i am in my office clothes..and Rani, displaying the typical female cunning, has this habit of sneaking into my apartment for a whirlwind tour of my brother's bedroom and to shed some of her fur on his bed... She is very sneaky.. and I love her.
But I am enjoying the weather right now... Might go to the roof of my building to see the pashan lake, sparkling yellow...

(Painting by joy.garnett)

Compare

2006-07-05T04:00:00.000-07:00

A nice lady from India floats around Europe, seeing surreal sights such as these...

While yours truly would visit Mumbai, all equipped with Life vest and inflatable raft on 10th July for his Visa Interview....

Guess, life changes..

Chennai, Pune and movies

2006-07-02T01:37:00.000-07:00

Saw Superman yesterday... and the movie was ...ok...
Superman franchise is quite old... when it first hit the theaters few decade ago, it was a successful capitualtion on a the wide appeal of a well known super hero.. it was great to see him flying on the screen... everyone loved it...

Then there is a gap of 28 years ... and another attempt is made to re establish the franchise.. and they dont do a bad job, mind you...but in this era of so many super heroes which are created on the screen with a technological prowess, light years ahead of superman 1, we NEED MORE!

Superman is a cultural icon.. everything about him is.. there is the John William's theme song , there is this premise about Daily Plant-Clark Kent, Lois Lane and Superman... action scenes which corroborate Superman's 'man of steel' status... but there is much more to it, than special effects...the movie should make you feel warm... Superman returns, good as it is , is still good... but not warm...

I procured the tickets valiantly, braving the Pune rains... and again made my way to the theater, taking Vidhan along, to watch the movie... but a climax which was 10 mins too long, killed the movie for me...

Why did they have to send the superman to the hospital at the end..? it is unthinkable! I dont want to talk about this movie anymore... for me , Superman 1 and 2 still rule the roost

Krrish was pathetic ! Someone asked Mr. Roshan (Senior) if the movie is upto Hollywood standads and he heeed and hawed, "this is hollywood", he proclaimed... and after watching this drivel, in a way, he is right...

Yes, of course, the climax is based on the movie Paycheck... with little touches of plagarisms here and there , here is a C grade hollywood movie. Thank you Mr. Roshan.

Like the dynamic touch screen User Interface taken from Minority Report... the Krrish attire with shades of the Crow franchise... the actions scenes ripped off from 'wire fu' eastern movies... .

The blatant, obvious product placements ... which was really irritating..(but then someone has to pay for making a hollywood movie).. the singapore promotion board which invited Mr. Roshan to use it as a locale for shooting, would be banging their collective head on the wall... I dont plan to visit Singapore sometime this life.

See, here is a word of advice,Mr. Roshan which I am sure you will not heed to... but I should oblige you anyway...

Before embarking on a movie, please be sure as to what you really aspire to do. If you are trying establish a superhero franchise, the way hollywood does, please dont try to please B and C Indian cities by including Dhin chak song and dance sequences into it... give the hero a purpose... give him/her an attitude... give the superhero Kryptonite.. make him vulnerable.. dont make a pathetic attempt to establish a 'Kaho na pyaar hai' type love interest... which will not work at all..
Dont plead lack of resources.. the movies are not always about special effects, they are about the characters and how peoplecan relate to them...

I found Krrish to be a pathetic waste of my time and insult to my intelligence..

And in another news today, i leave for Chennai tomorrow... and I am not really lookking forward to being drenched in Chennai rains... but I guess I need the training... so there you go...

Had a talk with my Boss over my frustration and anguish for being on the bench when the others alongside are being sent on site, doing things... the talk helped a lot... I need to insulate my self from the trivialities of the present and look at the future.. that will help.. but still I need to work on a Project... or I can find my self dissolving away, doing nothing, Learning nothing.. Hell i dont demand more money, even though i am being grossly underpaid.. I just ask for my talents to be used .. and may be discovered.... because i am tired of all this posturing... but the talk was good... it was the first occasion of having an open talk with my boss.... and this is an imporvement. Somehow I couldnt open up to my earlier RM like this...
But there is one thing,despite all the inactivity, i adore all the people i work with.. they are the reason i am not looking outside as yet.. (and this includes my boss) being the youngest of them, i have been mentored by each of them... and I love the atmosphere ..
Dont Worry, boss says... and i think I should not... I should just forget about the formal premise that i have to work upon and concentrate on the long term issues.. that should help...

Float like a butterfly, Sting like a bee

2006-06-26T09:38:00.000-07:00

Wrote this story today for one of the internal competitions ... I had to use certain words to frame a story into them..

I never did like Beckham that much…In fact, like is not the word, I hated him.
Strutting around with his partially shaven head and a heady posh spice who probably didn’t give a yen for him….I am pretty sure that he did consider himself to be in the same class as the sporting greats like Muhammad Ali, which he was not.
Don’t take me wrong, I consider myself to be pretty tolerant, but something about his obnoxious, smug strut unhinged me every time I met him on the field. His self assured play against the strong football nations like Germany, whom he publicly labeled as ‘small fry’ wasn’t exactly heart warming. I pity his intelligence quotient for remarks so childishly inane…
Oh! I had nothing but thoughts of deepest loathing for him… and I sincerely, looked forward to bringing my wrath upon his semi shaven head with a bang. Destiny provided that chance during the last ten seconds of the final match of the football world cup.
England Vs Germany, with one goal to none in Germany’s favor, I was on the roll in the field… millions of English fans had descended on to the Berlin stadium to see their favorite Beckham, bring home the cup. The entire match was a blur; with the English desperately trying to score and the small fry i.e. Germany blocking their entire tirade.
Now with 10 seconds to go, England needed a miracle to win the cup. They found it in a lucky pass which got through German defenses… Beckham found me on the field and kicked the living day lights out of me! Even as I took flight in the sky, I swiveled around anxiously for a referee to call a foul !
Beckham’s face reflected something of a snicker and a smile beginning to mutate into gleeful laughter, as he saw me float away…like a gentle compliant butterfly, almost in slow motion to the goal post. I had had enough… I had been kicked around a lot by that fool…and it was enough.. my time had come…
At the last moment, I took the wind’s aid and turned my rubbery body to turn on my axis and like the vigor and the aim of the Japanese kamikaze pilot, smashed on the beam of the goal post and dribbled away outside the field, harmlessly away from the German goal post … to the groans and disbelief of the millions across the English Channel …
I had had my final revenge … even as I was being busily shoved into a bag as a collector’s item, I had my laugh… I wish Beckham could hear me…I dare say he would be too busy nursing a sting of a butterfly which turned into a bee for him!

Basanti

2006-06-17T01:49:00.000-07:00

For Dolphin, on her Birthday...

The green orb found its trajectory. It wheeled towards me…rising like a magnificent stallion against the wind.. hundreds of eyes followed it as it smashed on my nose…Ouch … the quad erupted … I saw them rejoice in the ground below… there were cries of "it's a six" "We won .WE WON WE WON"… Hugs… mirth…joy…floated up to my ears to me, it was really a bit irritating… but I smiled..The kids did it every year… they named their cricket tournament after me, of course, but after you have watched over them day after day, night after night, listened to them whine about their exams…, seen the girls bleary eyed rushing towards their classes… and been smacked by everything from football, to cricket ball to hand ball to basket ball, that had fallen in their destructive possession, anyone would have relished a chance, a holiday, if you will, from their globular projectiles… they couldn't hurt me of course…'Basanti' was the name, they gave me… I would have preferred something more up market.. lets say, Qutub.. or the awe inspiring 'Pisa'… But 'Basanti' it was… and 'Basanti' it was to be…I was the tallest single object in GIM… I had out grown the function I was initially installed for.. But over time, other uses were found for me… I didn't carry water any more… I carried a name…I carried a culture…a tradition… I stood like a goddess, looking over them all… I lived with the ladies of GIM, as my neighbors.... but of course, I couldn't exactly fit in their teeny rooms… and I didn't exactly would have liked their frilly decorations, mind you…and boy, did they ever stop talking… LH buzzed with 'bakar' be it any hour, any day… I couldn't sleep a wink And let us not even start about the gentlemen, who used to live in the depleted structures, yonder the small trees… OT, Morgue… not exactly the names which spoke of joy..Fools … intellects so obviously focused on courting my immediate neighbors… every new academic season saw them, playing outside the LH, even though they hadn't done so for the last one year, trying to put their best athletic feet [quite literally] forward for the new ladies, who, they thought, were watching… oh hell ..at least listening to them, play.. which of course, they were not…I know… I see things… you see… I am taller than you..Like I could see, the great Mandovi flow by road… I could see the meadows of Divar … I could see the little church on the hillock, midst the divar …
But irritant, as they are, I couldn't help missing them when they left GIM…sometimes, for years… sometimes, just for summers.. or a vacation…sometimes forever…it became too quite then… I missed them… missed seeing a couple, sitting below LH… , I missed watching some lonely soul wandering on moonlit nights in the quad…. Seeing them in their elegant dresses as they departed to one of their parties… and when they returned, seeing the girls, stumble back…up the stairs Drunk… all dignity forgotten… ladies who drink, I ask you… The greatest moments were of course, the last few weeks of the batch… when they made it a point to test my architectural integrity and scale me in order to affix a placard announcing the number of days to their departure … I could have fallen apart.. it was pain full… but I couldn't let go of them… I let them scale me… I could feel their trembling limbs.. and the gentle fear enveloping their minds, as they strode up the ladder… and then the exhilaration, they felt as they reached the top..as they surveyed the world, as I could…from my vantage point…and for a fleeting moment, could hear me …Then of course, the batch left… some of them never returned …but most did..Batches were like the seasonal flowers… they strode in, new faces every year… cowering like the lambs, for the fear of being ragged… when they began … and standing as tall as I, with me, at the end….[placard thing]
Now, there was a villain too… no, it was not old Sebi, it was not Bapu.. it was the steel railing below… the scoundrel enjoyed it when they ran into his steel…hurting themselves. I could hear its chuckles.. as anyone banged his/her hand, passing by… its whoops of laughter… esp. when a brave footballer, in a bid to score a goal, couldn't stop…and subsequently, really needed the services of a doctor, who lived down the road… I tried to reprimand him… but evil couldn't be negotiated with… it had made it a way to be stumble in their lives, as they had to walk on either side of them, squeezing by, to go to Joes… it was in its nature to be evil… pain, his incentive… soft hurt flesh, its reward…
I had grown old… I could not bear it … its chuckles… its whispers… it was a poison… and it was growing stronger… times were changing… each rain, rubbed a further more on my skin… the plaster as it peeled off… the steel railing, of course, was not worn out…it yelled to me, "See you rot their on the heights above…while I shine in this rain… I need to hear their bones on me… I wouldn't even charge a fee…"
Then the death came… One morning, I saw them with their tools… and the axes, standing below me, appraising me, as a butcher would a sheep… The railing crowed "Ha ha .. see Basanti, they come to kill you.. now I rule the quad, not you…"I gulped… They labored for hours…trying to entangle my innards… I felt their pick axes plucking away my sinews… my life force ebbing away, dissolving into the air…. I heard the jubilant whoops of laughter from the railing below… Fear of approaching darkness paralyzed me… would I never really see the kids again… Would they wonder at my absence, when they would see an empty quad when they return…? Would they miss me… as I did… but never told them…
Then even as the last blows of the axes grew closer with the creeping darkness that was death… I saw a golden resplendent glow…it was a last memory which came to me… it was the unobstructed view of the fire of Lohri…its warm rays comforting me, enlightening our little world…driving the darkness away…
I smiled… and with a sigh, I welcomed the darkness…I let go… and my last cluster of head, fell earthwards … My aim was true, my fury purposeful… I smashed on the railing… which was twisted beyond recognition in an instant… it died quickly… I was following it into the void, when I paused to hear a man speak… "Shit…This railing can't be repaired…I told you guys to be more careful… get some men on to it...pull it out with the tower "
But before she faded completely as she kissed the earth, one last fugitive thought came to her and rested for a moment on her mind; before everything stopped… it was an echo she had often heard shouted in the quad…"We won…"

An Excuse is it all about

2006-06-07T01:52:00.000-07:00

Tell me my lady, for I don’t understand, the curiosity of yours…
I don’t understand mine as well…

What is it about? The question you have oft asked …
Why should an explorer seek a reason when he sees the mountain yonder the forest..?
Or why should the flowers on the mountain slope be? What is their purpose…? What reason should be our guide when we make for the territories unknown..?

What is it about?
I am afraid I can’t satiate your question… for I don’t know… call it my curiosity for the mountains and the forests alike ….

A lady whose eyes are a sparkling bright like the stars in every photo that did justice to her… like the first hopeful droplets that hit the thirsty April earth

The skeptical wet earth and beseeching dew drops, and she walks upon it, holding her sway… and the gentle wind which caresses her brow whispers in her ear… “A reason is not necessary.. an excuse is…”

Pisces

2006-05-27T07:07:00.000-07:00

I leave for Chennai... rather, i am escaping to it.
It is the quest of knowledge that drives me to it... but more so, it is the lonely home which drives me away...

I am a pisces.

And invariably the silliest things upset me... then I think, "Oh well... Pisces are emotionally fragile" and I get on with it...

Why are we so...? Hurt by the things which may seem very innane or ridiculous to others... Each pisces is a world... we are able to discern a world in others as well.. We talk to a person and gently know everything that could encapsulate him/her... we know... we sense it.. and yet, we dwell into that world a bit too deeply and forget who we are...

And then live to regret the plunge...

OK, now this topic is becoming a mindless drivel.. but the question still stands...

Who are pisces....? Please tell me. Is it the grand dust bin of all the signs, fragile emotional creatures, too weak for life and its thorns... Or are pisces , the world , as it should be....
Beautiful, serene, intelligent, vibrant fishes who survive...?

Well, may be chennai has an answer..

Munich

2006-05-21T09:59:00.000-07:00

Munich is a straight forward movie, endorsing the 'tit for tat' policy. There is a lot of blood and gore... gun fire, bombs, deception as is a characterstic of movies made on similar themes, but at the same time, I found munich to be thought provoking and visually beautiful...allmost surreal.

Movies made on historical events have little to count on for story, but it is the execution that matters... and here is where Steven Speilberg scores... the whole movie is a clockwork tick tock into a scheme great movies are heir to.

I liked the characters... they dont potray their characters. They ARE the characters.
I like the subtle and at times, obvious symbolism in the scenes. I liked the courage and the sheer recklessness of the plot. I wondered if it really happened that ways. The 70s is depicted accurately, i guess. The music reminds me of Schindler's list.
This is Steven Speilberg's best movie.

About Moi

2006-05-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

No one tagged me but I have been seeing this cool questionnaire flaoting around on the blogs... could'nt resist the temptation.

5 people who top your shit list..... and why:

Company’s Fat ass HR: The epitome of evil cunning, combined with purposeful ineptitude, the bastard can be reputed for spoiling many a careers in this infernal place. Even so, he was felicitated at one of the company functions as a ‘problem solver’ and gently teased about surrounded by other bitches that were then called his ‘angels’!
Government clerks/bureaucrats: Getting my passport has been an ordeal enough… bribe almost seems to be a qualifying nomenclature.
Leeches: Also known as ‘free riders’ for obvious reasons.
News channels.
Dream squashing presumptuous people.

Close brushes with death/danger:

Had almost drowned in a swimming pool at Bokaro club in my teens. The funny part is that, that was the only day when I had decided to come to the swimming pool all by myself.
An allergic reaction to one of the meds in graduation. Lost consciousness for few minutes. Had to given anti allergy drug to make me stop glowing like a Christmas tree.
Numerous near misses on bicycle (when in school) and bike.
An Attempted mugging at Bokaro. Thought quickly and sought refuge in a neighboring house, faking it to be friend’s place.

5 Preferable modes of suicide, in descending order:

Spacewalking and then strapping off the connecting line to the shuttle. Dying while in a beautiful orbit around the earth when oxygen runs out… with the entire earth as a last wistful memory.
On a picnic to a green, beautiful and breezy field, with my favorite pack of MP3s and giving it up mid breath under a tree on the hill by a blue meadow.
During a solar eclipse.
Cant think of anything else.

5 Guilty pleasures:
Dreaming. I know what I mean.
Chicken soup at a tacky place in Bokaro (For those from Bokaro: The fast food vans at sector 4 city center market. A tall waiter named ‘Mandal’.
Procrastinating even at the face of crazy deadlines…. Doesn’t happen now, but used to indulge in it while at school, working on technical drawings assignments instead which I was pretty good at. Or hiding library books/novels in course books and faking an academic session.
Drinking – my mom has made it a guilt.
Meat

5 things you never want to forget:

The day I received the letter accepting my MBA candidature at Goa institute of management. Incidentally it was my past day at Ranchi and graduation program.
That crazy email exchange in the summer, preceding the MBA admission.
The house warming period in the summer of 1998 when we moved to our new apartment on the edge of the city. 10th ICSE Boards were just over… the vacation seemed to be forever and I had a lot of time to create my new world. Used to have those dinners with Dad at Bokaro club in the evenings, as mom was away, visiting relatives.
The second trip to Dewar island, Goa. I was in my MBA first term… I absolutely loved to walk in that serene sea of green, on that calm and wet meandering road.
Bokaro

5 things you wish to forget:

Spelling mistakes in my life.
That’s it. Everything else is worth it.

5 really exotic dishes you have tried:

Chicken roast in rum.
Crab soup
Chicken hot and sour soup with lots of liver in it.
Halwa (Pulses)
Liver masala

5 crushes/loves in your life... in chronological order

The girl on the blue bike (School)
The girl by the fence (Outside school)
The girl at the tuition
The girl older than me
The girl who wrote and sang in a drunken torpor outside a mall at Noida.

Strangest dream you ever had:

Dreamt of a devilish sort of monkey sitting on a desk by my bed. Woke up with a start and found that it was no dream!

Also, of the dream with a cat lazing on my chest. Woke up to find out that it was no dream as well…

5 most valued personal possessions:
My books
My Music
My dreams
Some electronic artifacts which lie on my computer
Some computer games like Pharaoh, AOE.

5 favorite superheroes..... and why:

Batman: There is a certain serene gothic persona about him. A dark figure, hissing in the shadows. A vigilante would terrify the worst of bad guys.
Harry Potter: A boy of ordinary magical talent finds innovative ways to escape/win.
Hulk: I saw the movie, and loved the sound rack… a crazy reason to like the superhero,. But there you go…
Wolverine: Admantium, loads of attitude, purposeful rage.
Spiderman: A good movie scores a direct hit, or in this case, a direct web shot!

Aashu

Trail and the Bird

2006-05-06T08:48:00.000-07:00

I saw a mountain trail leading down to the valley below. ..the path was flanked by the trees which grew into dark green canopy overhead.
The jungle was calm and serene as it sloped downwards… an occasional blue dragonfly passed by… I looked overhead. .. I could see the violent green canopy swaying with the breeze… I was comfortable in the earth’s womb, living, smelling its hues, air beseeching the rain to come… when I was shook out of my torpor by a sound of stream some where below. ‘
The scent of wet earth gave way to the scent of the stream, the moist grass and the dreams unseen…
There were dark ominous shadows in the jungle beyond the trees, on the edge of light… guilt impressed upon and fate laughed upon…
May be it was the air..letting me see all the things good, bad and ugly in the thing called life… it is the air which made me glimpse the spelling mistakes inscribed in my book.. but the air was forgiving , fate taking away my responsibilities

I looked back on the way I came…. The trail was as I left it… secure by lane of history, fixed in time, but the trail ahead was unseen, only with the promising sound of the stream…
I was suddenly unsure of what lied ahead… I stopped there and sat at the insecure stone… I liked the stone… I counted on it take me to the fate unknown… I may as well never reach….
The mist grew thick and the sky grew darker… night threatened to fall…shadows crept from within the forest towards me … darkness grew… I hated the sun to have come by in my life and then hated it as it had to go with its radiance…
I felt lonely, I felt morbid, it felt morose….but like all things in life, it did not last… for I heard a twitter behind me…
A bird came along and sat on the trail in front of me.. it mocked me and beckoned me to follow it down the trail…
It was probably joy, I felt, it might have been hope but I stood up and followed the sparrow to the promised stream…
The mist dissolved away with my steps.. the sun crept back shyly… sound of stream grew around me, taking me in its wake...shadows crept back into the trees…
I walked faster…. my hope distilled into joy …my joy brewed into ecstasy … I ran…
I overtook the bird … the trees whipped by in green streaks… lovely cold breeze turned into the wind… stones forgotten as dark insignificant specks … the earth grew moist… I left my guilt behind..
…And with a flourish, the stream embraced my horizon …. My thirst was quenched…
With a child, which grew within my heart , I splashed into the blue … I heard the twittering bird some place behind… close by… and with a glee smile, I wondered it the birds could laugh….
I think they do…

Contact

2006-04-15T23:46:00.000-07:00

Am reading the novel called 'Contact' by Carl Sagan.
Contact is a science fiction novel written by Carl Sagan and published in 1985. Some of Sagan's character traits are evident in the main character, Ellie Arroway, and the novel serves as an entertaining platform in which he encapsulates ideas surrounding many of his life's interests, especially the first contact with extraterrestrials.

Funny book. Interesting premise. Makes me wanna go and see the Giant Metrewave Radio Telescope (GMRT). located at a site about 80 km north of Pune.

GMRT consists of 30 fully steerable gigantic parabolic dishes of 45m diameter each spread over distances of upto 25 km. GMRT is one of the most challenging experimental programmes in basic sciences undertaken by Indian scientists and engineers.

Listening to the universe, right in my backyard....

2006-04-10T10:31:00.000-07:00

A field at dusk - By Robert Frost

What things for dream there are when specter-like,
Moving amond tall haycocks lightly piled,
I enter alone upon the stubbled filed,
From which the laborers' voices late have died,
And in the antiphony of afterglow
And rising full moon, sit me down
Upon the full moon's side of the first haycock
And lose myself amid so many alike.
I dream upon the opposing lights of the hour,
Preventing shadow until the moon prevail;
I dream upon the nighthawks peopling heaven,
Or plunging headlong with fierce twang afar;
And on the bat's mute antics, who would seem
Dimly to have made out my secret place,
Only to lose it when he pirouettes,
On the last swallow's sweep; and on the rasp
In the abyss of odor and rustle at my back,
That, silenced by my advent, finds once more,
After an interval, his instrument,
And tries once--twice--and thrice if I be there;
And on the worn book of old-golden song
I brought not here to read, it seems, but hold
And freshen in this air of withering sweetness;
But on the memor of one absent, most,
For whom these lines when they shall greet her eye.

Bloopy Bloopers

2006-04-01T10:38:00.000-08:00

“This is shameful and totally condemnable,” screeches leading Indian model Dipannita Sharma.Indian fashion writer Hindol Sengupta shakes his sad head, “It is a reflection of how titillated we get with even the remotest hint of sexuality,”

Model Carol Gracias at Lakme Fashion Week, Mumbai can be accredited with heralding a new era in highly effective buxom based promotion when her ' ill-fitting' and 'badly constructed' halter top decided to respect newton's law of gravity while the lady was quarter way through the ramp.
The prime time television and the other media segments also decided to respect this hedonistic slip and by evening, it was all over the news.
News Channels which were not content to stay at depths of journalistic standards decided to dwel a little deeper into the canyons of journalistic depravity and splashed it as a juicy tidbit at the end of their half hour snippets. (With appropriate hazed out images, mind you)
Newspapers like khaleejtimes condoned the lack of 'understanding' and bowed to "a conservative country where the slightest hint of sexuality can titillate."
Bloggers invent a catchy phrase called ' wardrobe malfunction'.
What is really funny is that no one for one functioning moment, suspects it to be another modality of brand promotion and shock event marketing. Top could have fallen for the lack of the thread binding it.... seam in the Gauhar Khan’s skirt could have had a loose string to run a tear on the back...
Moral police hasnt squeaked ... I guess they are confused as well.... It was a mistake, innit? To protest or not to protest... best to wait till the next valentine day.
Everyone is too busy, I guess applauding Carol. As pragini remarked, "...not a change of expression from her. her face maintains the same detached look which all models wear. the same look which was on her face whn she entered. not a flick of an eyebrow and no jaw dropping, mouth covering episode. she coolly, smoothly, picks her top up, holds it in probable place and finishes her strut."
Is it not a bit too professional? Allmost as if she expected this gravitational experiment
This fashion week unlike its predecessor, is a week longer. What better way to generate an interest than to have these malfunctions.... then have designers thank the models for 'carrying on the show'.
Life is a big bloop, I guess.

Time to say goodbye - Con Te Partiro

2006-03-31T09:12:00.000-08:00

It is just a memory which I have now of those summer nights.
In the cool summer nights, when I used to sit in the balcony watching the trees wave in the dim moonlight, brushing the breeze towards me. And then I used to play this sweet song all around me reverberating through the house and my being…

When you are 16 and are able to discern something like greatness in a song such as this, then it is great feeling… it is a celebration of life that was laid bare to me when the world used to turn silver.

Homage to the home warming at this very house.

I am attaching the lyrics here:
English version can be found here.

Time to say goobye - Duet (Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli)
Quando sono solasogno all'orizzontee mancan le parole,
si lo so che non c'e lucein una stanza quando manca il sole,
se non ci sei tu con me, con me.
Su le finestremostra a tutti il mio cuoreche hai accesso,
chiudi dentro mela luce chehai incontrato per strada.
Time to say goodbye.
Paesi che non ho maiveduto e vissuto con te,adesso si li vivro.
Con te partirosu navi per mariche, io lo so,no, no, non esistono piu,it's time to say goodbye.
Quando sei lontanasogno all'orizzontee mancan le parole,
e io si lo soche sei con me, con me,tu mia luna tu sei qui con me,
mio sole tu sei qui con me,con me, con me, con me.
Time to say goodbye.
Paesi che non ho maiveduto e vissuto con te,
adesso si li vivro.
Con te partirosu navi per mariche,
io lo so,no, no, non esistono piu.con te io li rivivro.
Con te partirosu navi per mariche,
io lo so,no, no, non esistono piu,con te io li rivivro.
Con te partiroIo con te.

Bat out of hell

2006-03-30T18:33:00.000-08:00

It is my second last day at this strange place.

Tomorrow I leave for Calcutta, a day after to Mumbai and Pune.

On an impulse, I borrowed mom’s moped this morning, and went to re explore some of the Bokaro Country side (most of Bokaro is a country side). I chose the place near our old house at sector 6 B. There, I made for the famous Kamdhenu Dairy settlement, locally called as ‘Kamdhenu Khatal’, 60-70 huts inhabited by the milk men (Gwale).

I don’t know what attracted me to that place.

Here, procuring milk for one’s family is as ritualized an exercise as the Japanese tea ceremony. In a society where people find ways to interact and network with each other, this particular exercise occupies the high pedestal as a voluntary daily excursion cum morning walks taken together by neighbors and housewives. Good for health, good for mind and a platform to gossip.
Gossip, something like this, “yesterday I saw Mr. So and So’s son walking with Mr. Y and Y’s daughter. Culture is deteriorating!” ( I wish they had visited Pune’s chandani chowk in the liberating dusky hours of a weekly Friday to see the ‘wild life’ in the bushes!)

I chose kamdhenu because it was the largest such networking center of its kind.
Also because the jungle surrounding it was once my favorite childhood haunt.

And today these morning walkers or the milk procurers were curious to see a young chap in black attire on a rickety moped, blazing, intruding through their morning trails, as if searching for something. They were not wrong. I was searching for my past. Intruding on their present. Scraps of my childhood. In older days, it was not rare to spot foxes, occasional jackal and if lucky, a rare black wolf on my morning walks there. Today, I couldn’t find any.
(It is my recent desire to have a wolf as my pet. Talk about wild companionship! My colony people are not very enthusiastic about this..)

Road were bad where I went. I entered the kamdhenu settlement and expectantly, found groups of people sitting on wooden charpoys, gossiping and looking at me. Milkmen were milking their buffalos, goats and cows. (God it sounds obscene). I stopped on the opposite edge of the settlement and looked at a road which went through the place into deep mist and incoherent tree shapes. Road which leads to nowhere and everywhere, with its old possibilities.

An old river bridge was nearby which played host to the stream of Garga river and chatth festival to sun god.

I parked my moped by the garga river bridge.
It was a vaguely disquiet feeling felt at that place by the river, watching the river weeds stuck in the bridge innards and water outlets. The river weeds were sad to look at. Reminded me of the people who chose to spend their whole lives at this place going on these morning walks to procure milk. Intellects wasted and yet a life so fulfilling personally that it is something deeply to be aspired for. People at metro won’t understand this and neither would I, once I leave this place and am back to the madness that I call Pune. It would just seem like a dream.

So I decided to leave that place. I wished it well, I did. I took one of the main roads (TV tower to Sector 1) to get some fuel. As I was preparing to return, I saw another early summer ritual in progress. That of hordes of students cycling to their respective morning schools. I decided to streak off after the ones belonging to my old school.

The elemental school uniform usually has a white shirt and a grey trousers. Girls usually wear something more flowery, orangish striped pleated skirts. I don’t know what that means, I am just picking that from my old school diary.

Like a black bat, I criss crossed in and out of the hordes of them who were cycling purposely to their school, determined to meet the 6:45 AM assembly bell, yet at such a pace that they might as well choose to never arrive their at all.

Like a black bat, I crisscrossed the colors of grey, orange and whites, colors of my past, determined to get some of its shades into my wings…..I smelled the old morning air. It smelled exactly it used to when I was an occasional part of such a horde to the school.

Occasional, well.. because I always took a cycling trail which was rarely followed.

I orbited around for a bit outside the school, remembering the simpler times.
I opened my ears to the wind carrying the hustle of bustle of the students inside the school. And then the bat bade its goodbye … it had been a long time he had flown away anyways….it was not a hell… maybe, Pune was...

Why Comet?

2006-03-28T09:53:00.000-08:00

"Why the nickname, 'Comet'?"
I am kinda sick of this oft repeated question
Comet is a nickname attributed to me.

Here is a sequence of events which should explain it (decisively) to ignorant crowd out there:

1988 CREATION - In an obscure not so little town in Bihar, a very bright boy suddenly realizes that he possesses a creative bone as well. So instantly he starts writing comic books on the first spare copy he could find, a comic book whose protagonist should take it upon himself to eradicate evil and sorrow (esp. the then Math teacher) from the world. With a malevolent snicker, he scans existing pantheon of superheroes in one bound and displaying the first instance of plagiarisms, borrows the best super qualities from each of them. And lo! Thus happens the genesis of the superhero and the name and the legacy…

1989 SELF INFLICTION – A couple of not so bright friends of the bright boy, take it upon themselves to trek through the woods in the vicinity. As it required some extra courage and recklessness, everyone picks a superhero name for himself. One by one, they scream out, “Superman!”, “Batman!!” “Dhruva*!!!”. Bright boy’s turn comes; the friends stare at him, smirking as they had already picked all the (then) available names. What does our bright boy holler out? Exactly!
*Indian Version of Batman in yellow undies.

2000 REINFORCEMENT – A not so easy problem confronts the bright boy…sorry teen who has to choose the username for his very first email id. An encouraging and slightly irritable friend, tutoring alongside takes it upon himself to suggest every id on the planet which was already registered elsewhere. After an expensive net surfed hour, the bright boy suddenly remembers his old comic books and flawlessly blends his real first name with his superhero’s. The internet gods bless this name as it is registered in the first try. Something begins then…

2003 BRANDING – MBA@GIM First day. A not so dignified noble alumni screeches at us, “In today’s world, you can’t spend your life selling soaps**, networking is the key with which you can jump jobs.” Post lecture, the MBA junta takes it upon itself to display managerial qualities on the outset and swaps messenger ids at lightening speed. Our bright boy does so with some unease. Networking was a concept which he did not understand. Nevertheless, people inscribe his id with the others. Ironically, owning to his first name which adorned the first letter of the English alphabet, his id was condemned to appear first in all the yahoo messengers, he was inscribed into.
**Pity, our marketing prof was obsessed about shampoos and soaps in relatively equal measures.

2003 - 2004 URBAN LEGEND - Our bright man, finds himself in a not so congenial environment which preaches group work so as to facilitate more and more networking.
He takes it upon himself to avoid these social configurations, and with the resultant freed time, completes his assignments way ahead the deadline. The others gawk. How could it be? It was unthinkable. How could one do it with out enjoying the thrills of last minute submissions? People see bright man’s id , first on the messenger list and mumble about, “That blah blah..” “Who?” “, don’t you know him? ” “Oh you mean Comet, don’t you?” Our bright man accepts this name. His first name was very common anyway. Good to have a jazzy name instead of so plain moth ridden first name, the not so bright man thinks. He displays it through multiplayer games, shared computer names, presentation at classes. Curious folk stare at a seemingly lonely figure walking the moonlit roads at nights…
With time, his legend grows. His enigma second to the resident lady ghost who stalked one of the hostels.

2004-2005 PARANOIA – Not so rational People at the MBA campus take it upon themselves to consult the lone warrior from outer space if they could see that cosmic shower promised in the skies at night. Naturally he agreed, taking it upon himself to advice people to wake up at 5, (a cruel thing when most of them hit the sack at 3), to watch the meteor shower. A ladies contingent, on his bearing, walked the roof of their hostel one dawn, zombie like, to watch the promised planets. Our bright boy displayed his bright cunning to escape the plotted beating the next day.

2005 RESIGNATION – Strolling by the bookshelves at crossword, she picks up a book on engineering math, and asks coyly, “Sooo, what is your favorite subject?” “Err…Orbital mechanics..?”, he ventures. We go to the nearby bar where she gets drunk much earlier than planned.

2006 EPILOGUE – A not so sober comet, creates a blog with a picture of a comet and tree on the hill. On a vacation, gets drunk and is taking it upon himself to burn midnight oil and explain as to “why Comet”?

Goodnight

Things about Bokaro

2006-03-25T21:28:00.000-08:00

Things I like

1) Chaat – Esp panipuri ….oops Golgappa as it is called here ! Big orbs filled with masala chole aloo and ‘imli water’
2) Wide roads, lush country side – as I elaborated upon earlier….
3) Naïve simple people – who do feel a bit of discomfit at times on hearing the tales of riches from prosperous cities outside… they also have a tendency to shout in a carrying tone …sort of a stretchy tone which might seem a bit intimidating to outsiders… but it is same as the typical tapori type hindi practiced in Mumbai. I guess people of bokaro should warrant another post...
4) Deep green forests surrounding the town as well as patches of them within.
5) Wild life – the other day I saw two foxes strolling on the road I was taking an evening stroll on
6) Cheap food
7) Comforts of home- Parents, Unlimited supply of tea, old story books, comics, great scenic location, on the edge of forest

Things I don’t like

1) Expensive Booze. And it is not repsectable to drink it unless a very important event like marraige or picnic is in works...
2) People who for the lack of any worthwhile past time are indulgent enough to poke their little noses in affairs of moi. I have not so fond memories of news of my courting exploits reaching home before me.
3) Boredom - no night life, no multiplexes (there is one but only village people go there whose idea of a cinmatic classic is a lot of fight and lots of clevage) , no malls.
4) TV - Good thing i did not buy one back in Pune. TV is an effort to watch.... possible exception being disc0very channel, Nat Geog. Sports channels. The Indian News channels are a waste of time. They are cheap and a happy bunch of eunuchs who have dropped so low that they stage or lets say cover, interstate family feuds to national audiance who are family soaped so much that they accept these crappy pieces of so called reality TV.

Grasping at Memories

2006-03-25T21:14:00.000-08:00

“Sorry about the man who was too afraid to fly that he never did land..”
– Drops of Jupiter

It is very much like that. Memories, akin to the sands of time falling out of stretching, grasping….gasping palms. You live 20 years of your life at a place and suddenly take the leap into the wide blue distant world, never hoping to return back. You go far and wide. Deep into the realms of your darkest fears, high over your dreamscapes, you fly. But you always have a fleeting remembrance of your sleepy little home town. Of course, when you are out there, the place doesn’t seem so sleepy. It is imagined shrine of unmatched emotional significance. A treasure trove of memories…. A reminder of your life as it began…milestones which were passed by…. Now they dont seem much at all...

I have been here at Bokaro for a week now… another week to go… I neither want this week to pass, nor wish it to stay…. At times, I come across my old notebooks, old diaries… snap shots of decade old events…which seem childish now…. Talking to a particular lady won’t warrant a blog entry now that is for sure…

Bokaro was always a sleepy place… but it is a beautiful place…a very serene well laid out, city scheme, arranged neatly in sectors, market places, wide roads which somehow don’t beckon so much….

Roads which are looked upon by the green eucalyptus trees and idle meadows which one can gaze upon… real estate worth millions if it would have been in Pune. See, now I am again typing about Pune again…I simply can’t get that city out of my mind…. My life was spliced the day I left this place…. No matter how beautiful this place is, there is a feeling of vague stillness about this place which is very hard for me to enjoy… it is too quiet….

I miss my office… I miss my work…

The memories are strewn across this very room… for better or for worse…. But they are feeble chains which have lost their past rigor and grip…

I have grown up…

Vacation

2006-03-21T22:10:00.000-08:00

After an year of office, I am now on a well deserved holiday in Bokaro.
It is a bit of seemingly impossible culture shock to be here.

Yes, I had spent most of my life at this place but after an year in Pune, the place seems a bit.... well ... dull....

People are dull but nice...rowdy in a mob but docile when you corner any one of them...

But there is this old comfortable feeling of familiarity with them …any one of them … they are calmly intelligent people , if that makes sense… lets put it this way, they are intelligent but sit on it, having no aspirations to attach their talents to… but I guess they are happy…
Food is great.... trees are beckoning...

More when I am done with some more procrastination…

Why blogging is a waste of time

2006-03-05T06:27:00.000-08:00

Hah!
Blogging is a novelty which has outgrown its intial glitter....

presenting my opinions for all to see.... presenting my thoughts for all to think.. for the fools who have retreated to their own elecrtonic dream scapes... i dont think that i have either the time or the inclination to do so...

Adios

Prayer on the outset

2006-01-31T09:58:00.000-08:00

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1, the Holy Bible)