SageSpeak - Take That Step - IV

As always, flik fell back to his lieutenants.
"guys, i need to tell her .. i need to tell her before my heart explodes with all the love and eyes pour them out onto her feet", a dazed flik blabbered. The situation was bad than woody and fiona had imagined. They couldn't picture flik reading out of an english book, leave alone listening to his poetry.
"dude, maybe you should just go and tell her" said woody.
"what do you mean 'tell her' .. i cant just go and tell her"
"but flik, you have to .."
"i know fiona, but i cant seem to think of anything spectacular to tell her"
"dude, you could probably take her on a luxury cruise and propose to her in the deck", fiona quipped. fiona, the unreasonably romantic.
"that, that really seems a great idea .. thanks fiona .. am off to book a .."
"flik, i didn't know you were an onassis", said woody bringing flik down to earth.
"well, yeah .. you right woodsey, .. fiona, a cruiser is err, maybe slightly expensive", slight seemed to take a meaning which no one had ever heard before. "how about some kind of football stadium with flood lights which we could rent, just for the two of us, with a big cake in between, which has my heart written all over it", eagerly flik asked.
"last time i heard, your last name wasn't rockfeller either".
"guys, you are my friends .. you gotto give me ideas"
"dude, we have one idea and you better take it .. take her to some restaurant on a moonlit day and tell her what you think. am told women have a liking for the full moon", woody, who saw relationships as sour grapes finally came up with one brilliant idea.
"yo woodsey, thatz a great idea. flik, go for it dude", approved fiona.
"you .. you .. guys think it is a good idea??", flik asked eagerly.
"yeah", they said in unison.
"i mean, doesnt it sound slightly mundane, a hotel, few candles .. i mean, my jess deserves better". Woody and fiona noticed the inclusion of the word "my" in it. "This guy is going bonkers", they thought in unison.
"maybe i should just wait for a couple of more months and i would definitely hit up with something spectacular".
Knowing flik's creative capabilities, "dude, before you finish up on your great idea, the guy next desk is going to take her away with probably one rose and a few chocolates", although they didnt say this in unison, this was more or less what they suggested. That did the trick and flick decided it was the restaurant, even if the idea was not grand at all.

Few weeks later, flik told woody and fiona that the appointed day had come and it was today. A good, dark newmoon day. Since woody and fiona didnt want to dissuade him now, they said it was a master stroke to choose the newmoon day since the candle would glow brighter than ever. Never an enthusiastic student of physics, flik rolled his head in pride that he came up with his idea himself. Without him noticing, woody and fiona banged their heads on the nearest lamp post. Late in the evening, flick said he was leaving. "All the best mate", " Go get her tiger", "If you can't, no one else could", "Its written dude, your futures are one" were few of the cliched statements which woody and fiona managed to utter.

The next three hours were pure tension. All said and done, flik really loved jess. He actually loved her more than he loved sleep and sloth, and that means something. So woody and fiona ended up praying for the rest of the evening. Late into the night, flik's volkswagen came into the apartment garage. Woody and fiona were there before one could say "hey, the car has come". They had taken their courses for all kinds of reaction. "Relax dude, she is not worth it", "Don't give it up dude, you are our own private robert clive" and other assorted remarks ready, they opened the door before flik could. And there flik was. A smile occupying 9/10ths of his face. He did it. He proposed to jess and jess said yes. This was great. Flik wasnt able to talk. In fact woody and fiona were secretly happy he didnt talk. His vocabulary would be so fake with words picked from that day's newspaper. The smiles said it all, and they walked silently patting him in the back to their apartment, even if it sounded horribly cliched.

Woody couldn't hold it back, and looking at fiona he realised she couldn't either. "Well dude, after all, a simpler plan with restaurant and candles worked", woody said.
"yeah sort of .. only that we didn't go to the restaurant .. damn, this key doesnt open the door", said a non-chalant flik, fighting with the apartment's lock.
woody was speechless, fiona was worse. "But .. but dude, we thought .. err .. we thought you guys had worked things out .. if you know what i mean".
"Oh, yeah that we did ... whatz wrong with the keyhole today ??"
"You proposed to her ?? where ??"
"On the way to the restaurant in the car, when we were stopping for a signal", said flik without looking up.
Woody was losing breath while fiona gave a look like she was just hit hard.
"in a car...", woody said.
"waiting for a signal...", fiona said.
"but thatz so ordinary", said woody.
"and so boring", said fiona.
"and really dumb", both of them cried.
"dude, who cares .. she said yes, didnt she ... ahh, the door has opened .. i need to catch up on some sleep .. good night folks" and saying that flik hugged a bewildered fiona and woody, "guys, i love you two ...".

******************************

"so, are you suggesting ...", started cuthbert.
"i am not suggesting son, am telling you ...", said the Oldest Member.
"I am telling you that it does not matter if you are not in a posh restaurant, with all those tall candles and bearers dressed in black, holding hands and you going down on one knee .. Even if it is the living room of the girl you love, and all that you have is one tubelight, and you are sitting 10 feet apart in shoddy work clothes, dont think twice .. just go for it "
Before the Oldest Member could finish, he heard a the rattle of a bike screaming through the streets scaring pedestrians. The Oldest Member lounged back on his seat and ordered a lemonade.

******************************
******************************

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

SageSpeak - Take That Step - III

Being the lazy coccon he is, woody and fiona were startled when flik proposed a trip across the hills to jellystone national park.
"Guys, it would be great guys .. Imagine seeing buffaloes ...", flik started off.
"But flik, we get to see buffaloes across the road, dont we fiona ??", woody said.
"Guys, imagine all the fauna and the flora and the serenity and the tranquility and ..."
"flik, please .. we know you are preparing for your GRE exams .. woody, maybe we should go .. itz been a while" said fiona. Woody looked back to check if it was a tube-light flickering, but they never figured out that it was a glint in flik's eye.
"so flik, both of us are ready .. shall we hit it", said woody, yawning to show his disinterest.
"guys, there is just space for one more in my car .. maybe we should take someone .. how about"
Before flik could go anywhere with his master-plan, fiona jumped in. "Doryyyy !!! we can take Dory with us .. she wanted to go on a trip sometime"
"But i was saying .."
"yo fiona, i was thinking of dory too .. poor thing is already half-mad .. maybe we should take her"
".. maybe we should .."
"let me call Dory .. woody, you just check if we need to buy anything"
".. call jess".
There was silence. Jess had been a friend, but no one was sure if they could hit it out on a trip. But looking at flik's eyes which oozed of love and all its closest cousins, woody and fiona shook their heads.

The rest of the trip to jellystone park is edited to save the reader of going through this demanding writeup. Of worthy mention would be the fact that Flik faked an injury and chose to spend the drive down with Jess in the back seat, while rookie drivers woody and fiona drove the car close to the jaws of death than they would have liked.

Couple of months later, in the apartment where flik and woody stay,
"I have to tell her", said flik, determined.
"I told her already", said woody without emotion.
"What, you told her ?? What the hell ??"
"Relax dude, someone had to tell her .. If you weren't going to, then i had to"
"But I ... I wanted to tell her and i thought, i thought you knew", flik's voice was quivering.
"Yeah, I knew .. but you were taking your own sweet time and i couldn't wait .. so i just told her"
"And .. and .. what did she say ??", anxious flik sounded even more anxious.
"Of course she said yes, what do you think ?? i guess she was thinking about it too", woody was not even looking up.
"Congrats dude, maybe both of you should go .. its probably the right thing" said flik, with a voice that tried to mask some hidden sorrow with magnanimity.
"Why, you arent hungry ??", said woody.
"What??"
"I said 'arent you hungry ??', i called up fiona and she said she can join us at central perk".
"fiona said yes"
"yes"
"fiona said yes"
"errrr .. yes .."
"so that means jess didnt say yes"
"i didnt call her, you want me to call her ??"
It was at that moment that woody found it would be great even if he remained unkissed for eternity than being kissed by a man, no matter even in the cheeks.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

SageSpeak - Take That Step - II

Flik Jones was one of those young and brash kids one sees in college [the Oldest Member said], who always believes that the first step to success is to have a good, long, undisturbed sleep in the dormitory and eventually skip the first hour of the day. It probably started off as an accident, but as time went by, he had made it his passion and had perfected it so much that even the alarms clocks stopped ringing knowing the futility of these exercises.

Flik was not tall, was most definitely dark and according to a select band of girls, was handsome too. As young as he was, he was never short of polite gestures and forth-right statements of purpose, inviting him to join them in blissful courtship. But flik wasn't falling for it. No, not that he was averse to women, his registrations to dating services would be ample proof and his antics in his home-town with women were legendary. Just that he was stuck to this cool-sounding phrase, "waiting for the right girl".

She joined college a year later. Jasmine "Jess" Gardner was an anti-thesis to Flik. She came there to study, she did not bunk classes and most importantly, she was sensible. If there was one thing that connected Jess and Flik, it was the fact that both of them had had proposals from the most abominable of folks, from their respective batches. It is never mentioned in recorded history as to when flik fell. But his folks swear that they heard a grand THUD when jess crossed by flik's seat for the first time.

Like every successful commander, flik had two trusted lieutenants. Woody and Fiona Ferguson. As everyone who is really in love, flik laughed it off everytime woody and fiona brought it up. By the time college was getting over, flik was drowned in his love for even the three blind mice to see. He was in a limbo now. He needed a reason to run into jess, make it look like an accident, but at the same time lay a strong foundation for the rest of the things to come. He couldn't ask her about anything related to studies for the simple reason that he would be stumped if she asked something back and he was positively sure that he could not pull a conversation on cricket with her for more than 45 seconds.

It is at those times that one profusely thanks people up above. No, not God. But otherwise-scorned seniors and always-hated professors. If not for them, no college could have a cultural-fest. The general conception was that such fests were organised to brew inter-collegiate camarederie and ignite sporting spirits. Although they failed miserably on the "igniting sporting spirits" part, they succeeded overwhelmingly on the "brewing inter-collegiate camarederie" part. No one is sure if the words "strictly between men and women" were intentionally missed. No one is complaining though.

So under the grand auspices of the annual fest, flik moved closer to jess and bombarded her with his usual nonsensical wit. Being the city-bred, soft-spoken dame that she was, jess would probably keep a conversation with even a mountain troll. Although flik would give a tough fight to a troll on his day, jess showed no signs of disapproval. flik had his own problems though. Women from other colleges. But finally, after all the euphoria subsided and the other women promised that they would introduce him to their football-playing boyfriends soon, flik resigned to his fate. "It was jess, no matter even if her boyfriend was a wrestler.", he told himself.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

SageSpeak - Take That Step - I

Cuthbert walked into the pub like a goat who had just stepped out of his own herd and walked into a pride. Bewildered, flustered, tense or it was probably all of the above. He pouched himself in the plush sofas and started looking at one of those corners where the paint was coming off. This by itself was probably not unusual, but since there was a bipasha basu item number on the television and everyone was stuck to the television like flies to a lamp, it would be considered a bit off-color. Now and then he would give a smile at that nothingness, only to took even more forlorn and lost than he was before.

The Oldest Member, as usual spoiling himself in his grand ottoman couch, was looking at this, his eyes like a doctor watching a patient writhe in pain, knowing what the exact cure is, but for some crazy reason, waiting to make his entry with panache. Looking at cuthbert, or more precisely his eyes, he decided to make his entry, lest something grave might happen.

"Son", called out the Oldest Member. "...", with a faint wink in the eye, was the reply. "Sonnn", called out the Oldest Member. Cuthbert decided that painted walls dont call him that way and turned around.

"Beautiful Day, Isn't it ??"
"Uhh.. Yes sir, a beautiful day it is" said cuthbert, his voice souding like a kid who lost his mathematics notebook and was facing the wrath of his teacher.
"Flowers blooming, fruits ripening, grass greener. Just about the right time for a young man to pick up his bike and take his girl down to the waterfall. Isn't it Son ??"
Cuthbert returned back to his gaze, saying "And for dumb, lacklustre, boring, ordinary folks what better than a cup of coffee and some peace", and started up to leave.
"Being smart, intelligent or resourceful has nothing to do with it"
"Well yeah, tell me about it."
"Son, I __am__ telling you", the Oldest Member's voice had the seen-it-all pride in it.
"Bah, I have been trying for so hard to tell her for the last six months, but i havent found one innovative way to tell it. I scourged the web sites and i couldn't come up with anything".
"Son .."
"Maybe i should just rent an airplane and somersault my love message with smoke to her"
"May I.. "
"Or get a flat full of candles, kneel down in front of her with the costliest ring that i could afford"
"But ..."
"Or take her scuba diving to the coral reefs and open my heart"
"Wait .."
"Or maybe i should find some more research material on the web and do my homework properly"
"Son, you are not trying to invent a light bulb here. Maybe i should entertain you with the stories of Flik Jones or Thomas Anderson or both .."
"Errrr.."
"... over a pint".
"Okay".

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Confused Critique - The Andromeda Pain

Crichton has always had a raw-deal from hollywood. His roll of honor reads : The Lost World, Sphere, Congo, Eaters of The Dead, Timeline. A vaccum cleaner would suck less. So when i read a positive review on the movie version of "The Andromeda Strain", i started hunting for the book and one fine saturday, i found it on attu's rack and took it home. The blurb, as always, was interesting. "A true story that could have changed the face of mankind" or some such is what it said.

The start was explosive. An unmanned space-craft, A small village, A virus outbreak, Recovery team tries to communicate it to Base camp, but gets it before they could complete transmission. Perfect. All high-funda codenames are exchanged between the military folks all night through and team of world reknowned scientists are picked up. Not one. Not two. But five of them. Enough characters to lineup an all-star cast. Good. The lead doctor of the team sort of hates the youngest for some reason. Ah, Character conflicts ahead. Neat.

But crichton eventually forgets that he is writing a novel and not an article for the british medical journal. What follows is tonnes and tonnes of tongue-twisting medical names, their effects, their cures and if that wasnt enough, diagrams about their molecular structures, chemical make-up and full-length reports. Science always had this ability to put me to sleep since school and this was no exception. The book talks loads and loads about this highly-secretive underground research center ala "the hive" in "resident evil". Crichton takes us through the building to all the corners and painstakingly explains about every type of quarantine procedures in each level, and somewhere in between doing that, loses the plot.

If that wasn't enough, how the virus is destroyed is what that takes the cake. Now, people, our virus is one serious brat. It spreads through air and it causes your blood to coagulate and kills you, and if you are anti-coagulant, it makes you go insane and drives you to kill yourself. Eventually gets you one way or the other. Pretty scary, huh ?? So how does the virus get destroyed ?? Well, thatz a really complicated procedure. Just wait till you hear it. The virus mutates, becomes a harmless organism, and vanishes into thin air. Yes, One has to read through 300 pages to get to this heart-pounding finale. We owe a lot to the real life scientists who put their lives on the line, but crichton, maybe he should stick to bigger organisms like dinosaurs.

My cast (for all those who have read the novel): Stone - Ed Harris, Burton - Gabriel Byrne, Leavitt - Kevin Spacey, Hall - Ben Affleck.

Two points to note:
1. when the blurb reads "A story of two star-crossed lovers, from the hearts of rural india to the plush streets of colombo, in a war led by blood brothers, loaded with dynamite action", just check if someone is actually trying to sell you "The Ramayana".

2. Unless your girl friend is a practising pathologist, you can safely skip this book.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Mother Of All Formalities

When you are about to finish your under graduation, you eventually end up at cross roads. You have no clue what to do next, and in fact, you really wonder if you have to do anything next at all. I mean, you've got a great bunch of friends at college, dad got you a bike and even pays for the petrol, you get to come home pretty late and the girl you met at that inter-collegiate function just returned your call. Life couldnt get better. But then, towards the start of the final year, you can hear faint murmurings at home about something that doesnt even remotely bother you, "higher education" and guess where every parent wants their kid to do his masters, Indian Institute of Management.

What bites every college senior bit me too. Suddenly there were signs of unrest at home and mom told me to take up the CAT. Actually she wanted me to join either in ahmedabad(since it was number 1 that year in the Business Today ratings) or bangalore (since it was closer to home). I was to reject calcutta and lucknow and not even apply for indore and kozhikode. I laughed, mom didn't. She was serious. I told my mom that she might as well give me the 700 bucks and put it to some use than flushing it down the drain. Mom laughed, i didnt. I was desperate. I guess she sort of concluded that i was clark kent.

Since CAT had become a ritual by then, i had a pretty decent gang at college, since there were other parents who thought their sons were peter parker or bruce wayne. Now that we all had a reason to go and lock up in a friend's place for the weekend with regular supplies of tea, biscuits and other assorted junk food, CAT suddenly didnt seem that bad. The 700 bucks part still hurt though, but we reconciled ourselves considering the fact that we were making a small contribution, without expecting anything in return, towards a noble cause, the betterment of indian education.

The big day came. The second sunday of december and our parents said their byes and started their prayers. Me and Settu were taking our exams in chennai since chennai happens to be where i was born. Bulljith, Rumkumar (no spelling mistake here) and the others took their exams in bangalore since "CAT exams" sounded a loftier reason to visit bangalore than "guzzling beer". Me and Settu got off the train and were on our way to my place. Just then, a big black cat crossed the road right in front of us. Settu frozeand decreed that we had to wait until a white cat (four legged feline) uncrosses the way, or else our CAT (the exam) would turn out disastrously. What on earth ?? Even if a 10-megatonne tyrannosaurus rex uncrossed our way, i wasnt going to clear the exam. Since this was delaying breakfast, I tugged him to walk with me, but he solemnly refused. I asked him if there was any way out, without involving a white cat. There was one, thank god. It was to let someone else cross that path and let him take all the bad luck. How noble. Anycase, now that i was sure i cannot drag settu across, we waited until some poor old man came for his morning walk and crossed the line. For the record, Settu didnt clear the CAT exam. I am not sure what happened to the old man.

Loads of advice from folks at home, asked me to take some 7-8 pencils since time was the key. They missed the skill part and i didnt bother to remind them. The venue happened to be the only thing about my CAT exam, Stella Maris on cath road. On any other day, i guess they would've called the police, but that day was a riot inside stella. I reckon i didnt need more than two pencils to finish the exam. Most of the candidates came out all the more wiser knowing that women are as good as men when it comes to graffitti on desks. The rest, as they say, was mere statistics.

After a while, the results were starting to come. My gang started getting regret letters with the usual melodrama. I guess no one paid enough attention to it since that was our last semester and we had so much more to do than to spare a second to think about foregone conclusions. After a week, and then 10 days, and two weeks later, i didnt get my regret letter. Boy, what do we have here ?? Is there some sort of tug-of-war between the IIMs as to which one is going to call me ?? Are there companies that are already offering me placement looking at my scores ?? I'd bury the rest of the conclusions i made to prevent hypertension for the reader. After another week came the much awaited letter. So, which one is it going to be ?? A-bad ?? Bangalore ?? If it is calcutta, they better offer me finance. What do i do if it is Indore ?? Should i send a letter regretting my lack of interest in joining them ?? Would that affect my chances in Bangalore ?? Mom reminded me it would be easier if i open the letter first. It started "We are sorry ..". I checked the "To" address. It was mine. Then it struck me, Its okay to count your chickens before they are hatched, but to do that before the hen and rooster even decided to make a go at it, was criminal. A costly lesson, but worth every penny of the 700 bucks.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

I Was Wrong

Now i know. Its all coming back to me, nice and clear. I just didnt build my "Raakayee Talkies" on Miss. Murphy's land after cheating her blind father over a game of "aadu puli aattam" (the slightly-violent, indigenous version of chess). I guess i did something even worse, like screen ramarajan (a supreme being who turns angry bulls into milk-laden cows by singing) and vijayakanth (a matchless hero who literally "repels" electricity and blasts transformers) movies in turns to make a quick buck. Yeah, that should have been more like it coz i dont think anyone can do anything heartless than that.

The reason why you are seeing this blog is because, murphy got reminded of misogynistic-me tying him (her??) up and making her watch "Villupattukaran" and "Vallarasu" in one sitting, had a small talk with the powers-that-be and ordered another barrage of rain as my weekend special. I'm sure hez up there watching something pleasant, say, sharapova playing pierce or the likes. But then, if i had actually made someone watch "Vill." and "Vall.", i guess they'd be justified even if they mail-order a deluge to drown me.

I dont know how murphy looks like. But i reckon he would look like that figure which apparates in the middle of the rain everytime i go out and check if it has stopped. Its okay if it stares at me, itz actually okay even if it laughs at me, but the unnerving thing is that it does that with a hyena-like howl which goes "machan maatikinaru, kodiya naatikinaaru" (translates to : the brother in law is caught, and he has hoisted the flag .. means: dude, you screwed, and royally at that .. now why a brother-in-law hoisting a flag could mean someone screwed is debatable, but chennai lingo enthusiasts have had their final word already).

Either that, or i have religiously watched the multiple re-runs of "Mummy" on HBO.

Notes:

Villupatukkaran - denotes a Singer, who plays a bow-like-instrument, only turned upside down. In this case referring to the hero who is a professional, world-touring, crowd-pulling, jibba-wearing artiste. "Villupaatukaran" is a timeless Ramarajan classic. Like any other Ramarajan movie, the highest allocation in the budget was the "lipstick and rouge kit" for ramarajan. The heroine, the report says, came a distant second.

Vallarasu - a nation capable of nuclear warfare, but in this case, for no particular reason refers to the hero's name. Vallarasu is a landmark movie in world cinema where the hero is a all-conquering police officer who drives from spencer's signal to marina beach, right from the middle of a traffic jam, within 5 minutes, in a town bus, laden with explosives, to save chennai from total annihilation. Mclaren Mercedes are said to be astounded by this fact and are negotiating with "Karuppu Nila - The Black Moon" to drive for them next season.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

So What Am I Exactly Doing Here ??

I wish i knew. I should have left two hours back and for some seriously dumb reason i came back to work from the class to send mails to couple of folks and thatz when the rain started. Now, last week, at around the same time, the aussies had india on the mat. no, it was worse. make that the laundromat. The indian batting order was soaked, whacked and rinsed clean and almost everyone was praying for the rain. And what happened ?? beautiful sunshine and butterflies is all that we get.

And today, i keep my jacket at home hoping to leave early, and damn, the rain comes in a week late and keeps on spraying like sidhu's commentary. non-stop, irritating and difficult-to-comprehend. Now why did i come back ?? To send an echcha update (paltry update). Can't I send it tomorrow ?? I can. Is someone going to freak out if i dont send this update ?? nope. Is it going to send our stock prices up ?? hell no. Does my update have any bearing on the total scheme of things of this universe ?? you gotta be kidding.

Then why on earth did i come back inspite of knowing all this. The reason is pretty simple. When murphy was a poor village girl on the outskirts of sriperumpudur in his previous birth, i was some aphrodiziacal pannayar (with the standard issue red-transparent-jibba, with some cattle-nail-masquerading-as-tiger-nail chain, red bullet and a crony to hold the umbrella) who destroyed their farm lands to build a cinema talkies. Thatz why even the right things, half-way into happening, suddenly change their plans, take an X-turn and go wrong.

Its 11:30 in the night, my flat is 15 kms from my place of work, the last 2 kms are actually one giant hole with a bit of tar smeared to give that "road" effect, i have a natural lake and multiple artificial lakes over that stretch and am so hungry that i could eat a herd of cattle in one go. If only someone stops by and asks me an update or tries a bad joke or some such thing, they would know how it feels to be steamrolled by a locomotive. Grrrrrr.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Chewing The Cud - Am I Sure ??

After having preached for hours to vicks about so many cliched things (which i labored in one of my earlier posts), i started to think about it on the way back to bangalore and at work. Now, that train of thought was quite depressing to say the least.

I asked viks to continue his swimming class. chap had been pretty decent at that for a while and was doing all sort of strokes like butterfly stroke, breast stroke, sun stroke etc inside the pool. (sun stroke ?? yeah whatever). The instructor had come home and went ga-ga over how he had taken to water like a fish and stuff like that. No clue if that was what he told every student who is due to renew his membership, but he did. I spent some time with viks talking to him about how important it is to learn swimming as an activity, an exercise and a hobby. And that awakened something inside and i rememberd something i tried so hard to forget, my very own swimming lessons.

Dongs and Pradeep took me to the YMCA pool in nandanam when i was in 5th standard or some such thing. The same stories i spun with vicks, they had spun it with me. Now, these two monsters knew all sort of swimming styles right from the much-popular surface swimming down to the dangerous (for everyone around) deep-pool swimming. I, being a self-learned sinker, had a tough time keeping up with their antics. Folks, we are talking about the mid-nineties here. So that means dongs and pradeep were all young in the late twenties wanting to prove something to younger, equal-aged and older women alike (women of any other category were out of bounds). The schedule of the day was very simple. Once we took our shower and walked in, these guys would make sure that all the floatees (rubber tubes) are safely hidden from eyesight. While i was looking at all this in suspicion, came the real thing. The grand idea that they hatched was to throw me into the pool in some deep area where i could not possibly stand and encourage me to swim. Somehow they forgot to remember that this thing of "do-it-yourself" works only in women empowerment movies. Real life though, is slightly original.

Co-swimmers were non-plussed at the splashing object right in the center of the pool screaming expletives. The swimming pool care-taker was wondering how someone can make so much noise gurgling water. Eventually, It turns out that everyone there was really surprised at the vocabulary i had. Now, dont let your imagination run wild. I started shouting stuff like "dei, neenga ellam annan thambiyoda porakalaya .. yenda enna mattum ipdi paduthreenga" (roughly translates to "you would know what i am going through if you had a brother") which was profanity for a 10 year old to shout at his uncle. Reading it in english, it probably sounds senti now, but the thamizh equivalent is, err, slightly obnoxious considering how old i was then. From that day on, whenever we came into the pool almost everyone was pointing to dongs and pradeep as "keepers of *that* kid" which didnt add much to their plan of impressing all the womenfolk and it sunk faster than i could ever do in a pool. and along with that went one of my now-favorite career options. scuba diving. anycase once i learn to swim the way humans are usually taught, there is only one stop: great barrier reef.

Now, this bit about "am i sure" isnt over yet. viks has started this serious debate within me so much that i am wondering if i am capable of advising __anyone__ on __any__ matter. Damn, a philosophical tug-of-war with my conscience was the last darned thing i was hoping for. One good thing is that i have got enough material for few more blogs. sigh.

My Conscience: lateral thinking, idhukku oru korachalum illa .. (translates to "lateral thinking, my foot ..")

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

The Big Question

Now that i got a blog like every kandasamy, munusamy and govindasamy (tom, dick and harry for the uninitiated) there seems to to be this the big question hanging right in front and going tic-toc, what to blog ??

Tried looking at a few blogs of my friends and acquaintances to see what folks generally do with their blogs, but the content of their blogs are as widely spread as a glutton's lunch table. You've got different people writing different things in different styles.

There is one style which writes whatever happens in their lives. My diary with day-to-day affairs would make an interesting and pulsating read if my name was one Allan Quartermain or a certain Max Rockatansky. Since i happen to be neither, all that i would be able to write is my encounters with traffic signals, dumb drivers and callous pedestrians. Thinking about all these again would make me feel bugged. Writing about it would just throw me in a sea of depression and Reading about it can cause you mild schizoprenia. We dont want that, do we ?? Lets move on to another style.

There is this style where the __only__ thing that people write in their blogs is "I found this interesting" and a whole bunch of links to something that talks about
a) flying turtles, talking snakes or anacondas with a sense of humor (or some such supernatural phenomena)
b) how one krishnaraj found a diamond while cleaning his cowshed, with which India could buy America seven times over (you would have to forward this to 7 Indians if you are a patriot).
c) how an IIT student wrote an OS powerful than microsoft and how an IQ calibrating machine went b-o-o-m coz it just couldnt match up with his IQ (14 indians this time).
Not that I am very original, but why do i need a blog if all that i wanted was to have a newsfeed in my site ?? Might as well redirect all misguided souls to rediff or TOI.

There is a third style. To write about social evils, To talk about how much our society has degraded, and how so much muck is present in our day-to-day lives. Angry Young Men and Women pour their heart out looking at the way things are. Ho-hum, all this sounds too dystopian for my liking and secondly, although i might remain angry most of the time, i reckon am not young anymore. Orwell rules, I agree. The future is dark, Agree again. And yes, No one around me is holy, but i dont think i can complain so badly, coz at times, i get this strange feeling that i myself am a social evil, and so if i choose to write stuff that way, dark and dystopian, i would end up being the biggest narcissistic blogger of all times.

There is this one style where people write all that they like. It initially starts with what they like in movies, books, food and music which is all fine. That seems to be a nice and easy premise, but then to continue to do it, one has to be well read or try to sound well read or atleast pretend to be well read. I am not well-read, i basically stick to fiction and let all non-fiction works rest in peace in the book shelves. I do not sound well-read, for that matter, when i tried to find out how actually i sound, the results werent encouraging the least. Pretension seems to be an option, but since am overworking on pretending to be a software engineer, that is ruled out too.

Whew. That discounts all possible styles that i could think of. Oh well, I guess this blog didnt actually turn out the way i thought it would, did it ?? Rule number 1 for all bloggers: stick to writing whatever comes to your mind, you can think about your excuses later.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Carpe Diem - Not Like This

When arun.s. walked upto me with two tickets in hand, i had just one reason to take them up. Rahul Sharad Dravid. The best there is, (one of the) the best there was and (one of the) the best there ever will be. I have never seen him bat in flesh and blood and he is one of those batsmen who would make you wake up early in the mornings, sleep late in the nights, skip food in the afternoons and drop deadlines at work even when hez batting on television. Now that he was playing in the real, and that too 500 metres from my place of work, it was too good to be true.

Morning, "Indrajith" gilchrist and "Mahiravanan" clarke ate some bheema pushti legium (thatz something on the lines of zandu pancharisht) and came in with maces instead of bats. Anything red that comes in front of them was delivered to the audience at twice the speed. When everyone was losing heart, ganguly suddenly got the wisdom to bring back bhajji and boy, did he strike. But by then, Oz had cruised to 470+ which in itself was staring ominously at us.

That was the right time for us to go in. Veeru was basically a Dhanda Soru (good for nothing in thamizh) and Akash Chopra was always waiting to go back to the pavilion soon. So RDx would be in any time and we ran into the stadium like crazy. This match was made in heaven. With "Ravanan" Mcgrath firing up from one side and "Kumbakarnan" Gillespie on the other, "The Wall" standing tall on one side. What a script for an otherwise boring thursday afternoon. As we walked in, we saw people walking out with a forlorn faces. Bad news. Veeru would've tried to whack the day lights out of piegeon and the ball would've did the stumps a favor. Bad news for them. Not for me.

As i walked in, i saw a familiar figure, crouching at the crease at anything that came at him, all bloated up wearing all kinds of protection devices that mankind could've ever thought of. Now what was Ganguly doing here so early ?? Dont tell me he got courageous and walked in to face ravanan and co. Even donna wouldnt be able to coax him into that. And then something struck me. Now, did we lose *two* wickets by any chance ?? I turned around, found a guy who looked like he would answer me.

"How Many" {anxiety, someone give me a towel }
"Two" { half dead }
"Dravid??" {higher levels of anxiety, can i get a glass of water ?? }
"Bowled" { non-chalant }
{throw the glass of water away, someone give me valium for chrissake}

Dravid, the bane of fast bowlers, despatcher of short-pitched stuff, the messiah for Indian Cricket, his bat as straight as a ruler, his footwork rivalling tap dancers, felled by this mcgrath brute, Bad.
Clean Bowled. Worse.
For Nought. Unthinkable.
In Bangalore. Can't get worse.
When I go to watch him. You know, Life is never so bad that it cant get worser.

But then, I guess it is okay one way atleast. To watch RDx walk upto the crease, take his guard, face that mcgrath monster, give lots of hope and then get bowled for a nought would've been like going to the nearest sivan kovil for an upanyasam, and find out that ozzy osbourne is the upanyasakar. Mind-freaking and depressing.

Next time RDx, there is always a next time.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Baton of Tyranny

When i was packing my bags and leaving for the train, sheelz (mom's sis) stopped me in my tracks and gave me The Sign. I was pretty reluctant to, but then, when orders come from her, you better start doing what she says unless you want to miss the train and be screamed at for the rest of the night for utter lack of responsibility among other high sounding allegations. I sighed (pretty inaudible, coz that would be enough for me to miss the train) and turned to vicks (the scapegoat, guilty as charged, my cousin). The idea behind this whole exercise being I, the elder brother, have to educate the younger brother with his ways of life.

That was when i started empathising with all those poor, round pots, who __had__ to call the kettle black because they were "politely requested" by other bigger, rounder and threatening pots, inspite of knowing that they were, are and in all likelihood, will be blacker. I could already visualize a certain gang of people queueing outside my place with stones, but since, i guess i would go with a tonne of stones than messing with sheelz, I pulled a chair to brainwash my cousin. What followed next was an hour of unmatched sermoning. I missed few mayil-peeli (feathers of peacock), a flute, four horses and a chariot while vicks missed one huge bow with a quiver full of arrows (not the archer shortstory book for chrissake, we are talking the real quiver). Otherwise it was full and proper "Kuzhandhai .." sermon with me instructing vicks about the viles of sun/raj/jaya tvs and the importance of mathematics. And so passed the role of "head preacher of the krishnamachari clan" from my aunt, down to my uncle and now to me and If there is one thing that connects us three, it is the fact that, for the kind of disciplinarian he was, krishnamachari (great grand father) would have shot us down without batting an eyelid, if he could.

At times during the preaching, I thought my aunt was laughing which was allright because she knows me pretty well, but suddenly I had this strange feeling that vicks was smirking too. I heard the alarm bells ringing when brownie (and thatz our faithful, fearless, fourlegged friend .. woah, how many Fs) actually yawned and started showing signs of uneasiness. Before he could actually understand the situation and start laughing, i wrapped up the stuff midway, gave a few cliched statements, packed my bags and hit the road. After i had walked a few steps, i heard this distinct bark, starting as a bark of surprise and slowly turning into some sort of uncontrollable howly laughter. I guess brownie eventually worked it out himself. sigh.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...

Another Whirlwind Tour

Back to chennai to drop viks back and this time too, stuck in a day train. Can't say if India's population exploded manifold over the week, but the crowd in the train surely did. Can't believe a day train on a saturday afternoon to chennai can be that crowded. People sure have funny hobbies.

Chennai was so overcast that even dodda ganesh could have bowled outswingers. Cloudy, drizzly and eternally cool. To think of how shortlived this whole spell would be, sigh. Met monex and folks on saturday night at the besant nagar dhabba. They had a ransacked poultry on their table by the time i went and thank god for that. Chicken in all assorted forms that could be thought of, in all fancy names, but still smelling the same. All set for ajay's marriage and looks like the whole trip to chennai was courtesy the soon-to-be groom. Surprising what a hint of marriage can do to your generosity.

Met pangs and seagull shiva on sunday. Visited kwiky's at gn chetty road after almost 4 years and the place sure looks ancient now. One of the first coffee pubs in chennai, it used to be __the__ hangout one point of time. Now the place is so empty that you have couple of desperadoes necking their way to glory at 11am on a sunday morning when their parents are busy watching arattai arangam. Coffee pubs in bangalore are a different story though. Another day, Another Blog.

Met the twisters and since that would cover an entire blog network in itself, am dropping it from here.

Got down at bangalore in the morning and it was so darned cold. Now that i seem to have gotten back to this inseparable romance with wheezing, i just wrapped myself in my shawl and walked down. When i crossed the mirror, i suddenly looked like someone familiar. After a while, when a really kind-hearted auto-driver almost threatened me to get into his auto, eyes glinting with pity, promising that he would charge only what the meter says, i realised whom i resembled. It had to be Mike Mohan singing/coughing "maniyosai kettu ezhundhu" or Nagarjuna singing "kaaviyam paada vaa thendrale". In other words, terminally ill.

Read on ... (at your own peril, obviously) ...