Life Changers

I received a mail from one of my friends after a really long time, which had some kinda maori subject line. Mail was a decent sized mail, 3-4 kb, and considering the capabilities of the chap in question, i thought it probably overflows with usual information like who is with whom, and who was with whom.

After running through the mail from top-to-bottom, left-to-right, from-the-centre-in-concentric-circles and all other imaginable ways, figured out that it had nothing in the body, apart from a beautiful signature of his. I wish i could simply call it a signature and leave it at that, but that would be unfair. What would you call something, that has a little paragraph of collected proverbs from across the world, his name, his designation, full postal address of his office down to the nearest post office and the biggest road in eyesight from his place of work, his landline number, mobile number, internal voicemail number (whatever that means), emergency number, website url and an alternate email id ?? A signature ?? It just stopped short of turning into a spy thriller. The proverbs were essentially a jumbled maze of choiciest words you can see in a dictionary, from the likes of "cornucopia", "erschatz" and "chutspaw", clinging to each other and frightening the reader and giving him some feeling of insecurity. And if that wasnt enough, it turns out that the maori subject line, which read "hihru", is in fact "hi how are you". Should be in some tongue that was lost because of the big bang or people dont have a PHAFJAE ("problem having acronyms for just about everything").

"There are things that are right and things that are wrong, and in between are the doors of perception", now thatz a signature worthy quote. "Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier", this is a confused statement made by, probably a soap-dish-for-light-saber carrying star wars fan who always makes it a point to say "may the force be with you" instead of a simple "bye". But the real cracker is this one. "Nothing is Impossible, even Impossible says I'm Possible". Eh, what ?? "Woman Hitler" is an anagram of "Mother-in-law". Try some similar worldly pun on the lines of "Impossible, I'm Possible" on your mother-in-law with your wife, and people would have to scrape you from either inside the vaccum cleaner or the washing machine depending on what is available at hand. Punny people, watch out. If all this wasnt enough, check this out. "Even my blood group says B Positive". Thanks, I am so motivated that i could run for the Iraqi Presidency.

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

Dubble-o-Six

The Department of Motor Vehicles (herewith fondly referred to as DMV) is very similar to our RTO office, only that you dont see brokers in here, atleast not many who have it written on their forehead, shoulders and other spottable places. Otherwise it is pretty much the same: queues, people from all walks of life and loud swearing.

The DMV has multiple phases in which they can fail you. First they have a written exam which has 36 multiple choice questions. A handbook of 90+ pages, containing tables of acceptable alcohol levels to age/weight limitations for a child-restraints. Two bits of pearly wisdom which would make the universe go in the reverse if I didnt know right away. The last time i actually "studied" something for three consecutive nights was for my Component Object Model Exam. Scraped past in that, scraped past here too.

The second phase is the car inspection phase. The instructor, who failed a young kid before he could even start the driving test, proudly proclaims to his colleague that he failed him because he didnt like him. That kid, looking smart, polite, decent and instanly likeable. On the other hand you have me whom even Mother Teresa would have a problem liking. Sigh. The instructor could have stopped at that, but he laughed and that was exactly the same laughter one should not hear before taking a driving test. It would explain why i pointed to the head-light switch when he asked me where my rear window defroster was. To add insult to injury, he even gestures: "Sir, I asked for your Rear(pointing to the rear of the car) Window (a square block drawn in the air) defroster (stuck here for a while and proceeding as if nothing happened)". Atleast i knew where the emergency brake was and that meant a promotion to round #3.

The third phase is the actual drive where the instructor sits alongside. I had a feeling that regardless of how dedicated to the job one was, one couldnt get that suicidial. But this instructor chose to become the trapeze artist who wakes up thinking its going be his routine stunt, only without the net. Driving on an empty road, in a medium sized car, in a country known for speeds can be intoxicating. And as i floor the pedal, a signal few feet from me hurriedly turned yellow, as if acting on cue. The car and I got into this converstaion

Ah, food for thought.
Do I stop ??
yes.
Do I go ??
yes.
oh shucks, am too close to the stop line, is it still yellow ??
Maybe
Its Red. Its Red. Its Red. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
Wait, dont panic, you __can__ stop the car.
can i ?? CAN I ??
you got the brakes for chrissake. Apply them.
Yes.
Apply them hard.
Err. yess.
I said Apply them hard you moron.
Screeeeechchchch.
Leave alone the driving test, if there had been an old woman around, it could have been a charge of culpable homicide. The car pointing in the wrong direction and across the mandatory white line. The instructor scribbling furiously in his results sheet. An insurance agent groaning at a lost oppurtunity. A young couple who were about to cross the road, realising the unpredictability of life and falling in love all over again. The car and the signal chuckling over their little joke. The Author, shaken, stirred and drained down the gutter.

I tried to sign off this blog with a brilliant end, but they all turned out to be unfunny, long drawn, dull, boring, monotonous, dry and at one time, unsurprisingly, all in one. So I'd just tamely say that inspite of all the prayers by pedestrians and motorists alike, I did get my licence and the world as we know it is not going to be the same anymore.

The bell that tolls, tolls for you,
The grim, you see in your rear-view,
Hide in the trenches or run to the hill,
Coz dubble-o-six has a license to kill.

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

Dark Night, Dark Knight

Chris Nolan, you are my new messiah. You just bettered Guy Ritchie and David Fincher by being successful at both off-beat cinema as well as mainstream. But most importantly, I thank you for saving batman from the evil clutches of the greatest villain he has ever faced: Joel Schumacher. Tim Burton brought the character to life with his original two movies, which had a gothic, industrial setting attached to it. The city of gotham was intentionally created dark and bleak to tell a story by itself. But what happens next ?? Joel schumacher comes out of nowhere, mistakes the franchise for some michael bay-ish over-the-top entertainer and produces a half-cartoon half-movie with a listless actor (whose name i cant mention since i pay him my taxes). Let us all be thankful to him that he didnt cast Will Smith and Martin Lawrence in the lead and call the movie Bad Bats. No folks, even if it had uma thurman wearing skin-tights and alicia silverstone in leather, its a thumbs down for them.

I love the batman character. Always have. No, not because katie holmes, nicole kidman, michelle pfeiffer and kim basinger played alongside. But because the batman character is one of the best illustrated and best designed super-hero characters that is entirely human and hence is so close to us.

Batman's intentions are straight forward. He does not want to impress the girl next door, nor is he there to save the world from all terrors - terrestrial or extra terrestrial. He is there for revenge. Arent we all ?? I mean, when the guy from behind honks, dont we let him pass, chase him down, honk twice as much, overtake him and then sleep in peace ??

Batman's villains, again, are human. His villains have hallucinating vapours, poisonous umbrellas and acid-soaked lipsticks at the maximum. Just our day-to-day villains we meet at work, home and in the bus with an added knowdledge of biology, physics & chemistry. No villains with eight legs or electricity/poison/other dangerous chemicals running in their body.

Batman has a brilliant temparement. He doesnt turn into a green monster everytime he is angry, jumping from canyon to canyon and taking missiles on his bare chest, and finally shrinking back to normalcy after seeing a tear in his girl friend's eye. Duh, that is hamming.

Batman, thankfully, doesnt have a knack for making cheesy one-liners. Most last words are answered thus: "I'm Batman". On the other hand, note the following conversation.
A train full of passengers saved.
"You saved us !!! who are you ??".
"your friendly neighborhood".
Excuse me ?? Dinngngngng. Wrong Answer.

Batman does not have retractable claws extending from his wrist. Batman cant lift objects using telekinesis. Batman cant create storms. Batman cant create magnetic fields. Batman cannot read others' minds and control them. Batman is not paranormal. Batman is normal. Thus proved.

Batman cant fly all by himself. It isnt difficult anyways, according to DNA it is the art of throwing yourself to the ground and somehow managing to miss it. But what the others gains with their flying capabilities, batman makes up for it with his wardrobe. A full black rubber suit with a cape is any day better than blue over-alls with a red underwear worn on top of it.

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

Aruniyan

He who has been to PSG and back is not afraid of doling out punishments. No mistake will go unpunished, No violator would go unscathed, No idler would remain in one piece (well quite literally, I got a big scythe, remember ??).

With his own copy of Garuda Puranam, Aruniyan wrecks havoc on this muddy society which teeters on the brink of disintegration.

1. Stop faking accents. It is okay to try an accent when you are talking to an american, but atleast spare your compatriots of the pain. The face is usually writ with not just the nationality, but also the region, and guess what, when an accent is faked, it gives the same feeling as the same screechy sound of a piece of chalk when written on a new board gives. Keep doing it, you are going to be tongue-tied (again, very literally) when aruniyan chooses to meet you.

2. Cut that crazy tune on the mobile phone. People are trying to co-exist here. Mobile phones are meant to be carried along with. Not to be left on the desk while you wander somewhere letting it play it's ear-splitting music for minutes till you bring your lazy posterior back to your desk. Dont make Aruniyan do a "Mr. Blonde".

3. Dis is not da way 2 rite english. If u wanna rite english dis way, den u r never going 2 rite again n ur life, 4 datz wat aruniyan decrees.

4. Stop yapping inside a movie theatre. People come there to watch a movie, not to hear your romantic duets. If talking while watching turns you on, rent a DVD. If you insist on another option, yes, there is one, but it is slightly painful and called KabeemKubaam.

5. Stop calling people names on internet newsgroups. Yes, it is easy to do that than to face someone and say the same bit. But you have to realise there is only a human level for one to degrade himself/herself and this hiding behind the computer screen takes one to a newer low. Congrats. Aruniyan thinks for a while, and sheaths his scythe since the scythe has an issue cutting through people with such abysmal levels of cowardice and lack of self-respect. Aruniyan respects his scythe's feelings and leaves him to his own fate.

Incomprehensible mumbling that sounds like some sanksrit manthra and a harris jeyaraj score follow.

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