Casement

And then...

2006-08-21T14:21:00.000-07:00

A question

2006-08-01T12:38:00.000-07:00

Most of you must've heard about speed reading and its techniques. For the uninitiated - 'speed reading' is a technique that does not only increase the pace at which you read but also enhances comprehension.

Although there are loads of websites that offer courses in Speed Reading, there are very few free resources on the web and fewer sources of quality information. So, I want to know if any of you have actually learnt the technique and are able to apply it to everyday reading. If you have never checked your reading speed, here is the place to start. I know a person who has a reading speed of 1200 w.p.m. After he disclosed that bit of information about him, I started seeing him as a man of Godlike powers. If there are any Gods here, please share the secrets of your prowess with the rest of us.

Freakonomics

2006-07-25T11:21:00.000-07:00

The full title reads - "Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything". The authors, Steven Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner have justified the title of the book from prologue to epilogue. This books does exactly that which is generally not expected of many books from this genre - 'interests'. It discusses the subject and keeps the reader entertained at the same time. The economic principles are applied to topics as diverse as 'the art of parenting' and 'sumo wrestling'.

There are many contentions in the book that could be defied in toto by conventional Economists. But, the manner in which the authors have tried to convince their belief demonstrates the intelligent application of the subject to simple but not-so-straightforward everyday situations.

For people who haevn't read the book, here is a question. Do you agree with the adage - "Spare the rod and spoil the child?" The proverb is not to be taken literally, as in corporal punishment. But, if you agree that disciplining the child means giving the child a bright future, then your answer would be 'yes' to the question. If you did answer in the affirmative, then, accordint to the author, you are wrong. While, what the parents are (e.g. their education, socioeconomic status etc.) help their child achieve results, what the parents do (e.g. reading out books to the kid, taking the kids to museums etc.) means very little to the kid's development, claims Levitt with ample research data. There are scores of other arguments to challenge the generally accepted causes for the 'effect' in question. It is interesting to read their out-of-the-box thinking substantiated with adequate reasoning and data.

If you love Economics, you'll love this book anyway. If you hated Economics as a student, I can assure you, you'll still like this book, for you would've never known that Economics could be so much fun. It's freaky Economics, truly. Try it!

The sublime white thing

2006-07-19T11:53:00.000-07:00

While sour curd is something I detest completely, I seem to have developed a taste for sour cream. From potato chips to vegetable salad, there is no vegetarian dish in the North America that comes without sour cream. Even if it makes me feel that westerners lack imagination when it comes to variety in food, I don’t conclude against them. I give them the benefit of doubt because I have no idea about their non-vegetarian cuisine. Having relished sour cream for days, I wanted to find out what exactly goes into its preparation except cream-turned-sour. Eventually it turns out that there is nothing other than what its name suggests. Sour cream is simply the result of bacteria action on heavy cream and the fat content is a good 20%. After learning this, my taste for sour cream suddenly soured.

Then, there is this eternal confusion of setting curd Vs. buying curd. I stuck with Dannon like many others do. I started to fall in love with its consistency and flavour. I used it with everything, adai, dosai, idli, rice, upma, bread. As a result, I ran out of stock every other day and it made no point to visit the grocery store just for Dannon. Therefore, I resorted to setting curd. But, there was a slight problem. The set curd tasted like Dannon, but had a stringy consistency that made me hate the very idea of setting curd. Thus, my love for freshly set curd came to an abrupt end.

One fine day, my cousin invited me for dinner and the authentic taste of freshly set curd was amazing. She, another ‘thayir sadam’ like me had brought the culture of curd from India which she had carefully carried over for years together. I waited no longer to request a small box of curd and started to set curd at home since then. Believe me, there is nothing to beat the taste of freshly set curd. There is always a reserve box of curd lying somewhere in my fridge for the fear of losing the culture. Every morning, when I tilt the box of curd slightly to check if it is set properly, there is an enigmatic fear in the pessimistic part of me. But, day after day, the sublime white thing would sit there, still, ordering instant calmness in me.

The big bound notebook

2006-07-17T03:48:00.000-07:00

On the 28th or 29th of each month, my dad would bring home with him a special brown cover sealed with cellophane, bearing his bank's seal on the top right corner. The packet would go into my mom's hands which would then lie in the 'puja' room until late at night. The following day, my mother, in her free time, would sit with a pen in hand, writing a few combinations of numbers in the long bound note book. She had learnt the knack of opening the bundle of currency from dad. It definitely looked like a rare art that only a few could manage gracefully. A strong hold and a swift twist. The bundle would break into loose sheets of currency. Every time my mom managed it in a single attempt, I derived a sense of achievement. Then, she would draw out cash from the bundle, bind a few notes together with a rubber band and wrap it with a titled slip of paper. The titles ranged from 'maligai saman' (groceries) to servant maid's salary. After finishing with hour-long binding and naming, mom would go to the bank to deposit the remainder. My curious questions about what she did were always answered in simpler terms than I anticipated. I understood the overall nature of the activity but never clearly understood why she did a specific thing until I was ten or more. Then, there was this strange thing my mom always did. A note or two would find its place underneath the newspaper spread on the shelves of the cupboard or sometimes, under the last saree in her wardrobe or in the 'paruppu dabba'. This, she classified as 'dash'. The dash, I later understood was unaccounted reserve for a quick outlay. Sometimes, the dashes would together make a singer sewing machine and at other times a valuable birthday gift for my dad.

Later, when my school curriculum taught me the concept of income, expenditure, saving, budgeting, interest etc., I realized I understood the meaning of each of those terms without much help from the text and teacher.

Years later, when I started to earn, I never received my salary in a packet nor did I draw cash from my bank account to hand it over to my mom. The plastic card took care of everything. There was no budget, nor an expense account to keep track of the long list of my expenses. The 'hidesign' leather bag never held its value because it was not earned from the saved dashes, unlike my mother's sewing machine. The number of my footwear, my father would humourously remark, was more than the number of his hand kerchiefs. I never took pain in a library account. If I needed to read a book, I had to own it. If I lost interest in a book within the first few pages, it would sit unopened on my shelf for the rest of its life or until an absent minded friend borrowed it without caring to return it.

Last week, as I checked my dwindling bank account online, I suddenly remembered the little pig toy I received from my dad as a gift for my tenth birthday and how I collected Re.1 everyday in the toy until it overflowed its way into my bank account. I remembered how I had enjoyed the toy swell with coins. I remembered my mother's huge bound note book and her crucial calculations. I recalled that my dad bought books too. A lot of them, in fact. But, he had a plan. He clearly set aside one-tenth of his monthly income for books. Intuitively, I decided to get back to my basics that I had learnt so perfectly well as a kid and eventually unlearned, as an adult. I went to "Barnes n Noble" and bought an Accountancy notebook.

This morning, when I spoke with my mom, she told me that she started using her debit card. For more than a year, it lay in the envelope it came in. She had come to this decision, after several months of my insistence. She confessed how easy it was and that she enjoyed swiping it in 'Food World'. "But, don't forget to make an entry in the big bound notebook." I added quickly. "Of course not," she said with absolute certainty. In her certainty, with unspoken words, she spelt out the importance of big bound notebook which has been an important part of our family for decades.

I had a dream

2006-07-04T06:37:00.000-07:00

I had a dream about you last night, early this morning, to be precise. It is not surprising because I have been reading through your archives and I still have a few more posts to go. So, for more than a week, your lines have been surfacing in my head every now and then. The thought seems to have ended up in a dream. The dream didn’t last more than a few minutes, I guess. I remember we spoke briefly over the phone. You inquire about what I made for dinner and I say arisi upma and you go ‘wow’. The reply I give may not be logical, but c’mon, it was a dream and I was not ‘lucid dreaming’. So, I was not in control of the things that I spoke. Well, what I said was, why do you go ‘wow’ every time I say ‘arisi upma’. I think even my sub conscious mind could not build a conversation on such an illogical statement. So we conveniently shift the subject. You ask me if I read about the art of doing laundry. I give a negative reply and you go on to explain something but the summer sky pokes my eyes through the blinds and I instantly realize that it was just a dream.

Later, as I had my breakfast, I recalled the inanity of our conversation. If it were not a dream, there are so many things I would've asked you. Like, where did you undergo training for the marathon, or whether you really changed your wardrobe after watching ‘what not to wear’ and if you actually got the job after accepting that you were ‘impetuous’. A person who won’t say a single kind word to others called you a wonderful parent:) Well, I now realize I should've asked you what you do to be a wonderful parent? I would've definitely told you that the piece I enjoyed the most in your blog was the one about husband and password. I would've confessed that I cried the whole day after losing my handbag in a train. I would’ve asked you how you could compose yourself and write a post about losing the bag. Ah, and I would’ve proudly beamed that I was lucky to get my bag back with all my stuff in tact. I would’ve expected to hear the same from you. Oh, at least I should've asked you if Ammani was a sobriquet your grand mom gave you. Finally, I would've definitely added that I was not the author of ‘Quick tale 148’, even though, I've felt the same about the 'SHEs' in your tale. But, I wouldn't have cared to ask you about that. There is so much more to know about you!

The Kite Runner, my first audio book

2006-06-23T04:55:00.000-07:00

My parents were never so 'cool' to read out books to me when I was a kid. Never in the past has someone read out a book to me, for most of my friends and family members did not know that such a thing ever existed.

So, the first time I heard someone read out a book to me was the audio version of 'The Kite Runner' by Khaled Hosseini. I randomly picked one of Crossword bookstores’ bestsellers and searched for the title on my library homepage when the audio book link appeared. The process thereafter was very simple. Click on the link, download the audio file to my system and start listening. And I did the same, without delay.

The story is about Amir, a wealthy businessman's son and his soulmate and servant Hassan. Amir and Hassan spend their childhood together in Kabul, Afghanistan. Amir, a physically weak boy with no athletic abilities takes pleasure in literature, books, reading and creative writing. Amir adopts a bossy attitude with Hassan, despite the strength of their friendship. Hassan, on the other hand, is loyal, intelligent and strong, whose loyalty for Amir's family is unquestionable. This friendship is torn because of Amir's act of betrayal and his guilt thereof. The war in Afghanistan forces Amir and his father to flee Kabul for a life in the US.

After years of struggle to achieve a comfortable life in the US, Amir goes back to his hometown, now stained with blood and mutilated bodies to redress his wrongdoing and regain his self-esteem. Hosseini's description of Afghanistan from the days of monarchy to the present day of war and destruction serves as an interesting backdrop for the story.

The voice that read out the book expressed appropriate emotions with the lines, lending additional accuracy to the parallel imagination running in my mind. At times, the Urdu words used in the book, like 'jaan' as in 'baba jaan', 'Amir jaan' was pronounced by the reader as 'john' which made me think that Amir's dad's name was John, which didn't make sense to me until I heard the word again in association with another person and understood its right meaning.
There is lack of personal touch when you hear a book, for often I mark the book with my pencils and reread the paragraphs I enjoyed the most before putting the book down. Further, improving our vocabulary with the audio version of a book is far fetched, as you don't feel like pausing the flow of the story to look up a dictionary. Navigating and positioning the file from the point I left it in the previous session is another painful thing to do. In all, I would say, an audio book is a different experience than reading a book but not a better one. May be, I would use an audio book when I want to have read a book, but don't want to read it.

Nail cutters

2006-06-12T05:44:00.000-07:00

The government in Rajasthan is distributing free education kits to students. Besides textbooks, pencils, erasers, geometry boxes and note books, the kit will also include nail cutters. I applaud the Education Minister's kind consideration. Clap, clap. Let's leave them alone.

On an entirely different note, I am a deeply religious person, which means, the number of my visits to the temple is marginally more than the average number of visits of a person with the same parameters(age, sex and background) as mine. For bloggers who hail from Chennai, I need not elaborate on the beauty and magnificence of Parthasarathy temple. For others, a google search would help:) The historical and architectural marvel of Parthasarathy temple is very special, as much as its tasty puliyodharai(tamarind rice) is. Puliyodharai is sold at a place called 'madapalli' inside the temple premises which you may or may not want to buy after taking a closer look at the mama's long and dirty finger nails.

Yeah, you got the correlation between nail cutters and my religious beliefs. In my opinion, if there is one class of population that needs the nail cutters more than the students, it is the temple archakars/purohits/pujaris/priests. While, the choice of buying 'puliyodharai' can be exercised in the case I mentioned, there is no choice when it comes to accepting the free prasadam. For a person with less than average belief in religious sentiments, I see no problem. He accepts the prasadam, then trashes it and walks away peacefully. But, for a person with my belief system, it hardly works that way. I am caught right in between a triangular mental struggle, assuming sin of trashing the prasadam, relishing the tasty puliyodharai and looking at mama's finger nails with imaginary magnifying glasses. Their nails have a distinct colour, born from a mixture of turmeric, tamarind, oil, tulsi and rose petals. No amount of cajoling is going to make me buy an argument that it is a healthy concoction. Thennavan, out of his love for anything ‘Chennai’ assures me that it is this harmless combination that lends taste to the ‘Parthasarathy kovil’ puliyodharai. But, I stand by my statement - 'The mamas need nail cutters.' Even if Sowmya publishes research papers on Thennavan's statement, I still won't buy the proof. Please, they need nail cutters!

I wish I could say ‘the other casement’ wrote the post, for I am afraid what ill-luck will befall me for offending Lord Parthasarathy. But, on second thoughts, I feel, if He were to comment on my blog, He would vouch that the mamas indeed need nail cutters.

Closely guarded 'Da Vinci Code'

2006-05-16T08:22:00.000-07:00

The movie Da Vinci Code, scheduled for release on Friday, has high expectations from people all over the globe. Although the plot is known, and the book has been read by millions of people, the movie's screening has been kept strictly secretive. The test screenings that are usually a part of every movie has also been skipped to keep the mystery around the movie alive. I was surprised to read in NYT that Sony turned down an offer of the Time Magazine cover because the magazine editors needed to see the movie in order to do so. With so much hype and hoopla around the movie, it had better be worth my $7!

Oh, why?

2006-05-05T06:15:00.000-07:00

I attended a B'day party recently. Three hours of party, fifteen boring people, one annoying kid, six course meal made the party snore-worthy. There are a few questions I have been trying to answer -

Why do people who turn thirty suddenly become uninspiring, boring and overly-cautious?
Why do some people talk without a pause to breathe in, while a few others have to be threatened at gun-point to utter a word?
Why do people make such a fuss to dance?

Bored and out!

It's a lovely day!

2006-04-27T06:59:00.000-07:00

I drag my feet out of the bed, forcing myself with yet another lousy day of the week. Sluggishly, as part of the morning rituals, I switch the computer on and surf through some of the insipid tales of Maran, Kaavya and bollywood when my drowsy eyes light up to this news on Rediff.com. 'Ash panned in UK', reads the link, which leads me here -

'Aishwarya Rai -- is there a wishier, washier, wimpier actor anywhere in the known universe?,' asked The Guardian's influential critic Peter Bradshaw, giving Mistress Of Spices a single star (out of a maximum five) in the reputed London daily newspaper.

My day suddenly turns bright, colorful and sunny. No, I am not a brute! And yeah, I love Peter Bradshaw, whoever that gentleman is.

Thiruttu Payale

2006-04-26T11:30:00.000-07:00

At hindsight, the cast wasn’t too impressive nor were the names too familiar, but the message, commendable. Jeevan plays the hero Manickam, who is a violent young man, influenced by his father’s way of making money through bribes. While he is academically a total dud, he cleverly plots a way to make easy buck through blackmailing a rich entrepreneur’s wife (Malavika) with a video confirming an affair between her and her husband’s friend (Abbas). The story then runs along the lines of a predictable movie with a lover and duets, finally approaching a very obvious ending. However, there is definitely some entertainment packed into the story with enough twists, turns, kinks, knots, Vivek and Australia.

Now, what struck me the most about the movie was the portrayal of the blatant reality on how parents’ way of life has a strong bearing on their child’s life, good or bad. The story is also based on the adage ‘mudal konal, mutrum konal’ and explicates how the first step towards debasement is often irreversible. The message is particularly applicable to this generation, where kids are exceptionally observant and curious with plenty of oppurtunities to commit mistakes, making child upbringing a challenge in itself.

These days, a lot of movies carry the ‘different’ tag, but are puerile or just unremarkable. But, Thiruttu Payale is markedly different. Watch it and if you like it, good! You owe me one. But, if you don't, blame it on Susi Ganesan!

Judgement

2006-04-19T10:26:00.000-07:00

It was the first day of the course. I was one of those few enthusiastic students who came to class before the lecturer. Students came in one after another and occupied the empty seats first. Slowly, when all the empty seats were occupied, people randomly sat beside anyone without too much choice. I was indulged in an unconscious and childish thought about who would sit by me.

"This one, looks brilliant," I thought and kept looking at the girl who entered the room, but she occupied the first available chair and shook hands with the girl next to her. I let her go off my sight and looked at the one that followed, "Ok, this one is fine too," I approved. He came in at the speed of light and found a place next to the person sitting in front of me.

Then another one entered. At once, everyone turned towards the entrance. He was tall, dark and fat. I felt bad for him, for I thought, he was aesthetically challenged. In addition to a strict diet in this life, it looked like, he needed another lifetime of diet, to treat his obesity. Who cared about his obesity treatment anyway? All that I cared about was getting a better neighbour for the day! He walked towards me with heavy steps. "Oh, no, Oh, no... Why is it that I always get what I don’t want?" I breathed a sigh of regret.

"May I?" he asked in a voice that was totally unrelated to his physique. "Oh sure!" I said, removing my bag off the chair. "Thanks. I’m Kaushik..." he added, extending his hand. "Mira..." I said with a smile camouflaging my disinterest. My palm felt tiny in his gigantic one. I sat there in utter silence developing a stratedy to evade any conversation.

The lecturer soon entered the room. He started with a round of his personal introduction and then asked each one of us to walk to the podium and introduce ourselves. Besides our names and academic details, he wanted each one to state our long term goal and objective behind joining the course. Siddharth, Mohan, Deepthi, Santosh and Neha finished with the obviously expected answer for the objective - doing CA. Their goals differed from becoming capable of managing their family business to working for MNCs. It was his turn now and he went to the podium. I noticed that his rear took ten seconds to follow him making the total waiting time more than the average. "I am Kaushik. I graduated from..." he went on... I gave no particular attention to the details. I looked at his face and noticed that his obesity gave him a forty-something look, while he must not have been more than 25, even if I assume that he failed four times during graduation. "My goal in life..." he started with uncertainty in the tone, followed by a brief moment of silence. "When I was a kid, I wanted to become a fighter pilot. I insisted that everyone called me Mr. Fighter Pilot," he said. I grew attentive and looked with an expectation of what he was going to say. "I've often put myself in trouble with my teachers for not responding to them when they address me with my first name. I was so passionate about becoming a fighter pilot. But, as I grew up, I changed my goal because I outgrew the cockpit and ended up here, working towards being a Chartered Accountant", he said, spreading his infectiously genuine smile to everyone in the room.

It was my turn next and walked to the podium while he approached his chair. This time, when I took a closer look at him, I found spontaneity, sense of humour, lightheartedness and the promise of a friend hidden beneath the layers of fat in his 130+ kgs of personality.

We have been friends for over five years now and thenceforth, I hold him responsible for every dissatisfactory book I read, because, he taught me that it is iniquitous to judge a book by its cover.

Blending with the new year

2006-04-14T06:52:00.000-07:00

I am yet to recover from the shock of getting warned by a cop. The offense is no more than the sinless appetite for 'idlis'. Idlis and dosais are my staple diet. I have this natural ability to smell sambhar from a distance of a couple of miles. Long story short, I am a typical Tamilian. Most of my friends/acquaintances here are north Indians who ask me to make idlis/dosas for every get together, be it weekend travel, potluck, dinner party or just-like-that. So, for our tomorrow's travel to San Antonio too, my assignment is fifty idlis.

Grinding the ingredients with the blunt Black & Decker blender could be more painful than grinding them with the conventional "kal ural". While I was doing the painful preparation, which took approximately an hour, I heard sturdy knocks on the door in-between the din made by the blender. I was caught unawares by the cop who showed up on the door. Even though I was sure that he had knocked the wrong door, I froze at his stiff upper lip smile and a brusque, "How are you doing?" "Good..." I said, clearing my throat. He didn't wait too long to announce the purpose of his visit - "your neighbours have some problem b'cos they feel you are too loud. "Me, loud?" I thought in utter disbelief. "Noisy vacuum cleaner or blender or..." he paused meaningfully. Unsure of how to react, I said, "could be the blender. But, I don't think it is so loud that it disturbs the neighbour..." He outspoke me - "well, you don't think so, but your neighbours do." He smiled a 'look-I proved-a-point' smile and I returned with a 'should I-or-should I not' smile and bid adieu.

While I have made up my mind to stick to rava idlis henceforth, I still cannot help thinking about who to blame - the fussy neighbours, my loud blender, the jobless cop or my appetite for idlis. Thus started my New year. Puthandu vaazhthukkal to you all!:)

'Make up' is hard work!

2006-04-05T08:24:00.000-07:00

The world thinks there are two kinds of women based on their ability to make up. Ones who wear 'make up' and the others who don’t. Let me introduce the third kind - the ones who try to 'make up'.

I am in awe of those women who have perfected the art of 'make up'. Mostly, these women just have it in them. Perhaps, the ‘sense of good looking genes’ have rolled into them for generations. Like woodward’s gripe water, these women have a long lineage of lipsticks and mascaras. Invariably, they spend more than half of their salary in making sure they look good at work. Their training must have started as early as their kindergarten days when they dressed up their Barbie dolls with mom’s make-up kit. Well, the point is - I am in awe of them!

Then, there are these other women who just couldn’t care less about how they look. I am not sure why most of these women hail from South of India, but unfortunately they do. Gokul Santol is the be-all and end-all of 'make up' for these women. To them, harmony of colors in make-up is an un-invented phenomenon. When you come across a lady wearing an inch of white coating on her face, just don’t give her those nasty looks. Do not even sympathize with her. She just doesn’t know. Ask her why ‘malli poo’ and ‘reebok shoes’ don’t go well together, and she may think you are kidding with her. The point here is - she doesn’t know and doesn’t know that she doesn’t know! Believe me, ignorance, in this respect, is BLISS.

Now, the heroines of my post - those who follow Robert Bruce’s lesson - try and try until you succeed. I sympathize with these women, and please, you do too - because I know what it is to try to make up without actually looking made up. I belong to this elite group of women. For us, comprehending the contents of the 'make up' kit takes about a year approximately, and an eternity, precisely. We are never sure about what goes where. Distinguishing between a blusher and eye shadow is the most difficult part of it. What finally comes to our help is ‘inky pinky ponky’! Lip liners are my best friends, while eye-liners are my frustrating foes. The former help me draw an outline on my lips and ensure that I color withing the boundary, right where a lipstick is supposed to be. On the other hand, if at all, there is a time I regret playing ‘mottai madi’ cricket, without learning a thing or two from my Barbie sisters, it is only when I fumble with eyeliners. The lines sometimes come out like graphs. Worst are the times when the line comes out perfectly right, because in that enthusiastic moment, I wouldn’t know where to stop. When the jolly ride of my fingers finally stops, it ends up like Saroja Devi’s ‘kuruvi vaal’ (sparrow-tailed) eye lines. In a make-up kit, there are at least four different brushes. I googled to know their names - Flat brush, cotton swab brush, powder brush and eye-liner brush. While powder brush is easily identifiable, the rest need some kind of logical elimination technique to arrive at the right identification. Removing the make-up is more painful than its application. Yeah, really! Doing and undoing something, in an interval of five minutes is painful. Isn’t it? But, ‘satisfaction’ or ‘give-up’ emotions never reflect on the mirror when we look at ourselves. And then the vicious circle of making up and removing goes on until, it is late for work or party or wherever. Thus, the saga of hard work and determination continues...

Husband on strike

2006-03-30T11:50:00.000-08:00

This is the weirdest strike I have heard of! The husband goes on a strike because his wife makes their children share their bedroom. Take a look at this.

If Indian parents took to his way, at least, 900 million fathers would have to sleep on roofs!:)

'If' in my life

2006-03-22T11:48:00.001-08:00

It was when Mowgli hit the screen in India that I was first introduced to the name, Rudyard Kipling. However, I did not know, nor felt the need to know anything more about this writer than the fact that Jungle Book was his branichild. One day, in the CSR magazine, I came across an essay which ended with the lines of this Nobel Laureate -

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings, nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds of distance run -
Yours is the earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a man, my son!

- Rudyard Kipling.

Poetry always inspires me. Since, music and I were never related, poetry, the cousin of music, to me, became an enjoyable substitute for music. So, I was instantly inspired by those lines and kept repeating them in my head at every chance I got - in the shower, while tying the shoe lays, while walking to/from the school, during the History teacher's class, experiencing the little moments of joy in unravelling the power hidden beneath those words. In the coming week, I spoke about it to all those who, I thought, shared my love for poetry and literature. In one of these discussions, a tennis enthusiast told me that there was more to the poem than the lines I knew. He recounted a couplet from the same poem which was adopted as a motto of the Wimbledon. He said that the verses flashed on the display board before the players entered the court. He recalled the lines effortlessly -

If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
And treat those two imposters just the same.

My curiosity increased multifold. There was no Google, nor the internet to search for the poem at the click of a mouse. Even if internet existed, to me it would have sounded like an impractical solution as in the early '90s, all I knew of the computer was a lesson on Dos, Logo and a game of Prince and Pacman. So, I resorted to single most successful technique I was fond of - Pestering. I implored, begged and pestered my dad to take me to a library. With his accedence, my search for the poem ended in the library.

It took me more than a couple of readings to appreciate the importance of the use of certain phrases like 'worn out', 'unforgiving minute' etc. and with the help of Oxford dictionary, I figured out the meaning of the words like 'imposter', ‘knaves', etc.

When day after day, I breathed those lines, I discovered new meanings and messages with every recitation. This poem suited every mood of mine. It inspired, mellowed, strengthened, lightened and heartened. Then, when I entered the 'information world' of the web, I read many other poems of the writer, and also criticisms around his racial attitude.

My obsession for poetry sometimes showed even in the most unlikely of places. For example, in my +2, Business Studies exam, I described 'Planning' in the words of Rudyard Kipling -

"I have six honest serving men,
they taught me all I knew.
They are - What, Where and When,
How, why and Who"

Several years later, I was browsing through books in Landmark, and I found the poster which had 'If' poem on it. I couldn't have asked more out of that visit to the book store. I bought it and pinned it at a place I could see every day, just above my desk. The poster is now faded but their lines in my mind remain vivid and bold!

Karadaiyan Nombu and its myth

2006-03-14T11:19:00.000-08:00

One person’s truth is another’s fiction. Similarly, one person’s myth is another’s religious belief.

The religious belief of ‘Karadaiyan Nombu’, has its roots in the myth of Satyavan & Savitri, which is about love, devotion, death and life, in the same order. Savitri, daughter of a king, was wise and beautiful. She was granted permission to find her own groom and she selected Satyavan, who was destined to die in a year. But, Savitri did not want to marry anyone except him and entered into the wedlock with courage and confidence. When Satyavan’s impending death arrived, she observed an austere fast to seek the blessing of Gods and Goddesses. Finally, when the God of Death, Yama arrived to perform his duty, she won the life of Satyavan with her devotion and intellect.

Based on this legend, South Indian women observe fast and pray for the well-being of their husband, in the culmination of Masi(a month in Tamil calendar, approximately Feb 14th- March 14th). ‘Kara Adai’ is a delicious recipe, made with rice flour and black peas (Sidenote1: My mom makes excellent karadais). It has no particular nexus with the story, but its preparation has been a custom. When the auspicious time arrives, a banana leaf is placed in front of the lady with karadais and butter, along with a yellow thread, called saradu. The women, then take a vow (referred to as ‘nombu’) uttering the words "Urugada vennaiyum, oradaiyum naan thanden, orunaalum en kanavar piriyadirukka vendum." A crude translation would mean, I make this offer of Adai and butter; May my husband stay with me always. (Sidenote 2: I have never taken the vow without a giggle, at the equation of adai and husband and not a single nombu has passed without a lecture from my mom. A fragment of the lecture in the next paragraph). After the vow, the women tie the saradu around their neck and break the fast with the karadai and vennai, with prayers for their husband’s/future husband’s longevity.

"There will always be myths we are unable to understand or appreciate, or that has been distorted in translation or retelling. A few myths survived the tests of time, a few others changed with time and many have vanished leaving behind only traces of their existence. Perhaps, the obscure remains are the reason for the lack of complete understanding of such myths. But, in its essence, there is a wise lesson to learn, notwithstanding its void appearance. A nonbelieiver will not be able to fathom the depth of the myth by explaining them away, while a believer experiences the joy of its true meaning by acceptance and practice."

I have successfully recalled my mother’s lecture about the obscurity of the connection between husband and Adai. It is left to be seen if I can successfully recall her recipe of Karadai, which seems to be more important after the daylong fast, than its connection with my husband!:P

Recall value

2006-03-09T19:35:00.000-08:00

When I read Thennavan's view about how 'pulli raja' campaign has a great recall value, I was reminded about this incident which was an obvious result of the 'recall value' of such advertisements.

It must have been December of 1990, when I was about nine years of age. My grandmother swathed herself in woollies, even before the temperature dropped to the thirties. She gets to sport her Kashmiri shawls only during the Margazhi get-together in Chennai. So, no matter what the temperature was, she would carry them on her throughout the month. It was also that time of the year when the market felt the extra need to advertise on the importance of protected sex which invariably had popular jingles and slogans that refused to lose power on the mind. Singing the jingles along with the TV was a favourite routine for all of us. One odd advertisement was one in which a couple in a boat with satisfactory experience looked at us and smiled in an intriguing manner, when a sudden silence fell in the room. Then, gradually the singing along restarted with "Valarum Payyan ivan, uyara uyarave Thullubavan...I am a complan boy." Apart from Tiruppavai, ven pongal, carnatic music, winter holidays, Kashmiri shawls and captivating advertisements another main occurrence marked the onset of Margazhi ... my grandmother's cold!

One afternoon when my cousins and I were playing a game of scrabble, grand mom called out for us. She said - "chamathono?" Whenever she started her sentence with this endearing Tamil word, we knew she was bribing us for some impending work. As predicted, she continued "could you get me that sachet of herbal cough syrup . . .?" Since it was a regular phenomenon, we knew what she wanted when she had cold. So, we whisked the Five rupee note and sped to the medical shop right around the corner.

On the way, we held serious debates about how to put the excess of rupees two and fifty np to best use to derive maximum benefits. At an undecided state, we reached the shop. The others were lost in looking at the Eclairs and gems in expectation, while I hit the counter with a loud bang and spurt out - "5 Nirodh 90"...

The two pharmacists looked at each other and exchanged an uncontrollable sarcastic chuckle. "Yaar paapa kettaanga?" enquired one of them, when my answer "ennoda paatti" put them in fits of laughter. I had no clue why they were laughing until I scrutinized the pack of herbal cough syrup on my way back, which read in big bold letters - Nivaran 90! The couple in the boat looked at me with the same sly smile in my memory and said - "Sukhi aur vaivahik jeevan ke liye - Nirodh." Damn! I got difference, albeit a little late.

Blank Noise Project

2006-03-07T05:46:00.000-08:00

Blog-a-thon 2006

I am sure many remember the case of Pratibha, an employee of HP who was raped and killed by a cab driver in December last year.

Although I do not know her personally, being an employee of HP ties me with her identity. I am given to think that if could happen to her, it could well, happen to any of us who are in her position, as vulnerable and as unsuspecting as she was.

It is definitely not the company’s fault. I know how much care goes into selecting a cab driver. The newly appointed cab drivers are watched for a period of a few months until the company is assured of his credibility. Is it right to blame the victim, right from her choice of shift to clothes? No. No one else is to be blamed other than the perpetrator of crime in such cases. But, enough has been spoken and heard about the cruelty of certain men who indulge in such brutal actions.

Instead of trying to indulge in fault finding, we can create a better world by finding solutions to the problems. The western world is aware of defense products like stun guns, pepper sprays etc., but we are totally incompatible with such ideas. A training in martial arts is not every woman’s cup of tea. So, that leaves us with just one weapon - COURAGE!

Malgudi Days

2006-03-05T14:03:00.000-08:00

You don't need a reason to be happy about Sunday morning. But, unexpectedly when you find one, your happiness is multiplied. My Sunday morning brightened up when, by chance, I saw an episode of Malgudi Days on TV. The simplicity, classicism and unalloyed truth which lies beneath R.K.Narayan's stories are unparalleled, entertaining readers young and old alike.

I have read many books and essays written by him, including Swami and his friends, Malgudi Days, The financial Expert, Next Sunday etc. There are many more stories that, I am sure, I have read but do not quite remember their titles now, although the characters like postman Thanappa, timid Meenakshi, honest Siddha, intelligent Margayya, guide Raju, young Swami and his strict dad will never be forgotten for their modesty and originality.

As is the case with many other works like Lord of the rings and Harry Potter there are many opulent things that one skips while watching the movie than while reading the book. In Malgudi Days too, the serenity of the riverside, liveliness of the town, discipline in the school are all better read than watched. While the video offers ready-made screenplay, reading allows imagination, which activates the right brain, enabling creative panorama of Malgudi and its characters in accordance with the author's description. We also tend to personalize the stories while reading, relating it to the characters we have known, making the experience a lot richer.

Comparing two works unrelated by time and genre is not just. However, when I draw a comparison with what I liked as a kid, ten years ago and what children of this day prefer, the result seems to mark the onset of a new generation. I do applaud the magical fantasy of Harry Potter and the fictitious characters like hooded Dementors, Penseive and Horcrux, but I feel they lack candour and clarity that is so essential to a child's mind.

When at times one feels trapped in the complex ways of modern life, it feels good to slow down and treat yourself with a jaunt through the narrow lanes of Malgudi walking past unassuming structures constituting bank, salon, cinema theatre, railway station and post office. At every place in the Malgudi landscapes, you will find, no more than ordinary yet interesting people, like the guide, a talkative man, a bachelor of Arts and Mr. Sampath, the printer of Malgudi along with a few extraordinary people like the reluctant guru, the finanial expert and occasionally a man-eater from Malgudi or a tiger from Malgudi. A toothsome sweet from a vendor of sweets will add taste to the grandmother's tales about Gods, demons and others, under the banyan tree along with Swami and friends.

At the end of this heart rending journey you will have made a world of discoveries about humanity, without traveling too far from Madras and Mysore. When that happens, you will be lured into believing that Malgudi is home, just like it has been to thousands of readers over six decades!

Mango deal

2006-03-03T21:55:00.000-08:00

Imagine walking through the fruits section in Walmart and finding the varieties of Banganpally, Malgova, Neelam and Kesar lined up next to the alien Mexican counterpart!
I am sure, those who are following Bush's visit closely would have come to know that the ban on import of Indian mangoes has been lifted after being assured about the pest-free harvest methods.

I read here that,
"Waiters in red tunics and red-and-white turbans scurried to serve broccoli-almond soup, seafood and peach ice cream after toasts of mango juice by the two heads of state."

India seems to have clinched the mango deal by serving a glass of mango juice to President Bush. Perhaps, he felt too shy to request a second serving and decided to import the yummy mangoes instead!

Budget blurb

2006-03-01T20:29:00.000-08:00

As I read through FM’s budget speech, I found the concluding words of his speech, powerful and commendable -

The young people of India are building castles, it may appear that those castles are in the air, but as Henry David Thoreau said: "If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them." It is our duty to put the foundations on which the young can build their castles.

Every year, on the last day of February, we have a standard procedure of the Finance Minister walking into the Parliament with a briefcase in hand, ready to present the Union Budget. The following week is loaded with media reports, debating the effectiveness of the budget. Then, we hear septuagenarians talking about the proposed hike in interest rates and then, a week later, all about it is forgotten by youngsters like us. Other than those in the Finance profession, many don’t even give the Headlines a closer look.

But, we would probably be more interested if only we knew how a budget affects us in daily life, from the price of fuel to ready-made dosa mix! We don’t necessarily need to be a Finance whiz-kid to understand and appreciate the effects of a budget. A person of average prudence can easily derive benefits out of following certain aspects of it. For example, this year, if you have an idea of buying a car, you could choose to buy a small car, because the excise duty on the same is reduced. Similarly, instead of buying packaged software over the counter, it could be downloaded from the net, so that you could save 8% excise duty levied on packaged software. These are trivial examples to highlight the importance of understanding a budget. Wider benefits could be drawn out of analysis, which of course, comes with practice. For example, on the higher end, investing in fixed deposits could prove beneficial because it is being qualified for tax exemption. Similarly, there was a time when Indians signed up for insurance policies only to please a relative who is an insurance agent. But, if you survey the budget, you could come up with a gainful mix of insurance products, mutual funds and investments to reduce your tax base considerably.

So the next time, when you flip through the front pages of newspaper, sipping the morning coffee, thinking it is yet another budget, take a second look to see what’s in it for you. With two finance geniuses - Dr.Manmohan Singh and Mr. P.Chidambaram at the helm, it is not surprising that we all have something to rejoice about the budget, except if you are a smoker! Well, alternatively, you might still find a reason to rejoice. The excise duty on cigarettes has gone up by just 5% this year instead of the 10% last year.

Disclaimer:- This post is not intended to display political affiliation:)

From Gentleman to Shivaji...

2006-02-26T08:38:00.000-08:00

All the talk now in kollywood is about "Shivaji." No, its not about the veteran Tamil actor, but about Shankar's next movie starring superstar Rajinikanth. It’s always unique and irresistible when great names join forces. In this case, it is Rajinikanth, Shankar(director), AVM(producers) and AR Rehman. Wow, what a combo?! I can hardly wait for the movie. Shankar's movies usually take quite some time in the making, because of his unique ability of concentrating on little details and giving a well-finished product.

Shankar started his career as an assistant director working for some big names like S.A.Chandrasekar ("Ilayathalapathi" Vijay's father). His big break came when he was working as an Asst. Director to Pavithran during the making of "Suryan". This is when producer KT Kunjumon saw his potential and offered him an opportunity to unleash as a director. It all started with "Gentleman." Here was a director making his first movie and straightaway bending all the conventional hero-ethics a little bit, by casting Arjun as a big time thief (but for a noble cause). It was a different storyline, different approach and altogether different category of movies that the Tamil audience had ever seen. No wonder, he heaped success in the box office, with the film running full shows. It was also well-acclaimed in the commercial movie setup. Shankar might not quite be a director who is well-appreciated by the artistic clad of film-makers, but from an entertainer's perspective he's priceless. His movies are fast paced, daringly different and hugely entertaining. It is widely talked about that Kamal was first approached for Arjun's role in "Gentleman," but Kamal politely refused as he was not in agreement with the shades of the character.

Then came "Kadalan" which didn't have any message or thought-provoking ingredients, but it was a pure college-goer's entertainment basket. The songs were trend-setters, and the theaters had the youth dancing all out for "Urvasi" and "Gopala Gopala".

Then came another unique blend with Shankar joining hands with Kamal to come out with yet another wholesome entertainer - "Indian". The concept and the plot were amazing. The storyline and screenplay were awesome. Shankar's attention to detail was evident once again and Kamal was, as usual, matchless. Shankar's maturity as a director entered a new phase with this movie. He was talked on par with Maniratnam, which for any film-maker is a huge accolade. The whole idea of "Indian thatha" and his focus on building a corruption-free society was a wonderful onscreen idea and indeed immensely engrossing.

He followed up with "Jeans" which was not really special except for the presence of Aishwarya Rai, who was the talk of the town, then. But it did have its fine ingredients, Aishwarya's double action sequences, S.ve.Shekar's little cameo and the songs (just like in all other movies).
Next came his home-production,"Mudalvan". This movie again had a novel idea - One day CM. Where does he get such ideas from?! Although one feels Rajini would've made a master fit in the movie, Arjun didn’t come across like a makeshift cast. It’s a little ironical that Shankar's two movies with Arjun have a commonality involving the two big guns of Tamil cinema - the first movie had Kamal as the first choice and for the second, Rajini would've been the best fit!

Then came ‘Boys’ . . . well that's one movie that's less talked about, the better. It was in all probability, Shankar's first flop! But everyone has his hay days and he had his too.

But, out he came with a bang- "Anniyan". Yet another idea that only Shankar's brain can think of and he gave shape to it as an interesting and thoughtful celluloid representation. Vikram's popularity and fan-following added spice to the movie and all about "Boys" was a forgotten history now.

It would be totally unfair not to mention AR Rehman's immense contribution as the music man behind all Shankar's movies (except for Anniyan for which Harris Jeyaraj won appreciation).With Rehman coming back to spend more time with the Tamil audience and his association with Shankar resuming, its great news for movie lovers.

Rajini, no wonder, is the hottest aspect of "Shivaji". Already, there are lots of stories floating around regarding the movie’s plot. Whatever it is, with all big names of kollywood joining hands, it would be nothing short of a special buffet that the Tamil audience has probably never tasted! Good luck, Shankar and co.!

Take it easy...

2006-02-24T09:45:00.000-08:00

This is meant to be in the 'Comments' section of Deepa's post. But, I had so much to say that I thought I’ll post here.

Three or four years ago when I was naive to anything American, even a phrase used to express farewell caused unwanted confusion. A trainer from the US visited India to train a team of five bright and guileless graduates-turned-employees. We were running on a tight schedule to learn his twenty-odd years of experience in just a couple of weeks. It was a little uncomfortable to know that his experience was really more than our respective ages. It was very important for us to win his trust and satisfaction, so that the process migration to India went smoothly without hiccups. But, he found a problem in everything...right from our nodding heads to our English. He expressed annoyance over which we had little control...from B'lore traffic to a guide who took Rs.3000 to show him around Bangalore botanical garden.

One day after he handed down an ultimatum, in a rather despotic manner, to finish a particular task by the end of that day, we all worked on the same, individually and jointly, without being able to achieve the results required. We kept pushing every nerve to think differently, unconsciously downing mugs of caffeine...did everything we could to assure him that we were capable, without making it obvious, that we were struggling. We thought it was too early for him to expect from us, the kind of expertise the task in hand required. In between bits of words and long silence, all five of us had just one thing to say in common - "NOT FAIR"!!!

A couple of offices away, he was getting ready to leave for the day. We eased out our knit brows and pretended to look calm with composure. He passed by with a loud - "take it easy guys..." with a huge smile and an obvious stress on "take it easy". Again, we all looked at each other with rebuking glances that read - "Who the hell told him we were struggling?!" Until we came to know, much later, that it was a good-bye phrase, we all thought of him as a sarcastic and stuck up American!

Dhoni rocks!

2006-02-19T06:37:00.000-08:00

Indian cricket seems to have undergone a phenomenal change in the recent past. Though controversies are nothing new to cricket in India, the recent scheme of things is different, because even as controversies keep brewing on one end, the national team seems to be producing talented youngsters one after the other, my favourite being, Mahendra Singh Dhoni. From a batsman's perspective, he's probably India's answer to the likes of Gilchrist, Afridi, Jayasurya and Flintoff.

With my limited knowledge of cricket, hardly do I recall any other Indian wicket-keeper batsman being as effective. The current chairman of selectors, Kiran More was an excellent wicket-keeper with great fighting
instincts, but wasn't quite a classy batsman. Though Dinesh Karthik is another talented WK-batsman, he is definitely going to find it hard to make it now, with Dhoni rising up in the contribution scale. Dhoni seems to have become such an integral part of the team and more importantly a true life-saver who comes in to play when the ship is sinking and brings it afloat with pride. You see him play and it looks like he is going to hit a six every alternate delivery. That's the confidence he exudes! His 77 (6x4s, 4x6s) of 56 deliveries today is yet another example.

Cricketers, especially batsmen are very possessive about their batting slots and never want to give away or change their batting positions whereas Dhoni says "I have been shifted a lot in the batting order, so the more I play, the more I would get used to the batting slots like batting at 6 or 7 or 3 or even opening." He looks at how he could adjust to the new challenge that is thrown at him each time! That's the flexibility that this Indian team needs. He may not be a success in all his innings. Like all the others, he will have failures and 'lean patches', but the focus, aggression, self-confidence and the 'threat' that he is to the bowlers, will take him a long way.

In the 'not so old' olden days it was an accepted fact that Sachin's master craftsmanship with 'hi, 'hello' contributions of a shaky middle-order that used to shape Indian victories/close to victories. (Even then, there were/are many who argue that Sachin was never a match-saver, which according to most of my friends is a long-debate, so let me jump off that one). Raw talent was something that the team terribly missed those days. But with the emergence of talented youngsters like Dhoni and a few more, there's no ‘one-man’, ‘one-magic’ dependency anymore. In Dhoni, India has found a good wicket-keeper and a cool-headed batsman, batting at crucial positions without fear. For a person who started his career in a different sport (as a football player), this is quite an outstanding achievement!

Of course, not to forget few other valuable talent that seems to have come out in the recent past - Pathan, Raina, Sreeshanth, Venugopal Rao, RP Singh....! Well, hopefully these are good times for Indian cricket. There will be losses, there will be victories, but as long as the morale is not lost and the talent stays coupled with fearless aggression and instinct to win, Indian cricket will keep marching with pride!

pic courtesy:cricinfo.com

Touch typing

2006-02-16T14:36:00.000-08:00

Besides being the day of chocolates and roses, Feb 14th is also the birthday of one of the most important inventors of the modern world - Christopher Latham Sholes. Although typewriter patents date back to the 18th century, C.L. Sholes invented the first useful typewriter, which was later manufactured by Remington Arms company. The arrangement of letters on the keyboard was Sholes’ idea of preventing the machine from jamming often. This keyboard is called the QWERTY keyboard, which we use to this day. It got its name from the arrangement of letters on the first row of the keyboard.

Even after the invention of the modern marvel, it did not create waves in the market because typists used the hunt-and-peck method of typing, trying to locate each key making the system ineffective. Soon, a clerk named Frank.De.McGurrin came up with the touch-typing method of using all the ten fingers to improve the typing speed without actually looking at the keys. It is amazing how human brain is capable of storing movements of the fingers when done repeatedly over a period of time. Using this strength of our brain, typewriter became widely useful not only to businesses but also for personal use.

As computer became more popular, traditional technique of touch-typing completely faded and gave way to ad hoc method that we use today. I remember the days when, my older cousins used to boast of their typing lower/higher diplomas. These lessons in typing were once as important as their Science and Mathematics courses. Although we don’t realize what we are missing with our individual typing style, we cannot deny that the traditional method is foolproof/typo-proof.

Talking of typos, I am reminded of a day at work in India, when I was conversing on AOL IM with my on-site manager in the US. In a sheer rush of my fingers, I typed - "Give me a sex" instead of "Give me a sec" and became the laughing stock of the place. That day, I cursed Scholes so much for placing x next to c, that I thought I owed him a post of appreciation for his incredible invention. Now, it's leveled out.

Try this test to know your WPM (Word Per Minute).

Reaction Time

2006-02-16T07:05:00.000-08:00

Check this out and find out how fast your reactions are!

Mask of cynicism

2006-02-15T05:14:00.000-08:00

"Haha! That's really funny," I said, rolling my eyes in disgust. "You should really have your own sitcom."

I was responding to a snide comment made by some stranger passing by. By this point, I just shrug it off, if I am lucky. But if not, my hard, turtle like shell protects me and sends the remark zinging back. I started making my shell as a kid, when I just started to discover how cruel people could sometimes be. Since, people of all ages could be mean, people of all ages could be hurt as well.

Different people react to disparagement in different ways. Some hold it inside, and let it out later. Others keep it inside, never letting it out until the pressure has built inside them so much that they explode like a volcano. (I imagine these are the same people who have mental breakdowns.)

There are also the ones like me. People that cover it up with scathing a.k.a sarcastic comments, using them as a mask. Sometimes I even unconsciously wish that my comments hurt the person that made fun of me as much as his or her insulted me, but regret inevitably follows. Only after the words have jumped out of my mouth, do I realize that it is not an effective defense strategy recognizing the damage it has caused. So, this mask of cynicism is like a two-edged knife. It hurts both, the person stabbing and the one being stabbed.

Seemingly, there is a better way to react to such acrimony - Silence. I have heard people say "Silence is the best kind of denfense." But, this makes it hard to figure out who is more cold, heartless and unfeeling. Is it the person who made the comment, or is it yourself, for not being hurt?

Why do we blog?

2006-02-14T12:29:00.000-08:00

I am always a little befuddled when I attempt to answer the question everyone here has faced one day or the other - "Why do I blog?", for I cannot explain my motivation clearly in only a few words.

Many people write many things, and have different reasons for all of them. Writing about things happening around us, I guess, is more voluntary. I am grasped by an urgent need to just sit down and put fingers on the keyboard. It is a way of pouring myself out through my words. A method of chronicling and organizing my thoughts and feelings in ways that my mind alone cannot.

Often, I purge what I did not know was there, what has boiled up from myself. Words that were trapped, stuck not in my throat, but at the edge of my mind, that were previously bound up by lack of avenues to share. They come from some point - some intersection - between heart and mind, conscious and subconscious. I blog to give vent to my thoughts and for keeping myself occupied. Both combine into a passion, an absolute love.

I am sure most bloggers like me feel that this is their own little space in the the web world and to every person, it is personal and special, whether others like it or not. Here, in this diversified blogworld, we find bloggers who have similar interest and perspective as ours, and also the ones that differ from us completely. There is no common rule to measure and that is what makes this place so addictive and free.

But at the same time, when I express something on an open forum, I understand that I am subject to criticism and judgment as much as appreciation and readership. Having understood this, let me thank this blogger for letting the world know that my blog exists.

E-communication

2006-02-09T08:45:00.000-08:00

Once, when my mom couldn't resist her compelling need to get me married, she went crazy on matrimonial portals and spent hours expressing interest in profiles, that she thought appropriate for me. I had told her clearly that I needed time to talk to each one and that I could not decide my life's most important decision in a matter of a few minutes. She assented.

So, that left me with chat sessions that covered my entire day and sometimes even ran into the midnights. I limited my chatting to two people on a single day.

I started my conversation with one of them, it started well, proceeded on the right track and ended on a nice note. We spoke sweet nothings about everything and everything about a few things that we had common interest in. It was not as intimidating as a matrimonial talk. It included, but was not limited to where I studied, grew up and expectations from my partner. It was a friendly conversation that led into exploring each other. At times, there was ";)" to denote good natured sarcasm and at times, we shared ":))" wide laughters. In all, I was successful in giving him a fair idea of who I really was and he was happy with his expression of who he was.

Towards the evening, I met the other person and the conversation started on the cliche - "I don't want to treat this as a matrimonial talk. Let's be friends and talk, so we could decide more freely about what we feel." The beginning was interrupted with some urgent work on his side. I sent my mail with my picture which he thought was a pre-requisite to a conversation. There were spells of uncomfortable silence. He sounded cold and high-heeled and I sounded the same to him. I tried to ease the conversation as much as possible from my end, but it never happened. I told him casually in a conversation that I had a thing for geeks...and he thought I was referring to him as a geek. Until then, I never knew it was such a profane word. He started criticizing me on that one statement. At first, I did not know how I offended him, but too quickly, I realized that I was getting offended. When I thought that no further fair conversation was possible, I politely bid adieu. He still pressed me for reasons and I had to tell him that I felt he was cold. With that, all hell broke loose. He accused me of indulging in psycho-analysis of his personality. Although, at the very first moment, wedlock became an impossible topic, I felt bad that I left a bad impression of myself on him. The day passed by.

The next day, I saw his nick glow in the list of my Yahoo buddies. I buzzed to apologize. Without going straight to the topic, I beat around the bush, with questions like how his day had been and what he was doing. After he answered those couple of questions, he seemed to be in a rush to tell me something with his "OK listen," "yeah...The thing is" and he went on to hand me down his piece of mind on not seeing a prospective wedding alliance with him. Like, I didn't know!:) Well, I agreed with him and told him that I was here to apologize for the misunderstandings caused, to which he acted indifferent. He said, he never felt that I was rude and he thought I was nice to talk to. Again, I felt this was another dosage of his cold aura.

Well, I am still unable to understand how I could, with the same personality be perceived of as two different things by two different people, on the same context in similar conversations. Strange are the ways of electronic communication!

Crime and Punishment

2006-02-08T14:31:00.000-08:00

Situation 1:

Suppose, you did an act of crime in anger and frustration. Although, initially you did not know what to do, you are ready to apologize and go any far to prove that you did not pre-meditate the crime. But, you are convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment.

I have been following Cody Posey's trial for three weeks. He is an abused child who snapped and killed his father, step mother and step sister after years of physical and mental abuse. The jury found him guilty on all three counts.

But, surprisingly, if you read reviews or heard people talking about it, none of them could agree on the verdict. Everyone felt that he should be allowed to walk out of the court free after counselling. The number of votes that saw his innocence was far more than the number that found him guilty despite his acceptance of offense.

Alternatively,

Situation 2:

You have committed a crime and people came to know about it, in spite of your best effort to avoid the evidence. Initially, when people begin to get a smell of it, you try to hush it up. But this is an age of hi-tech gadgetary systems. When you see no escape, you dub the reports baseless, the nefarious design of your opponents. You hire the country's best attorneys and win the case in your favor.

I followed Michael Jackson's case closely and again, felt differently than the jury and so did thousand others. The votes that came in favor of this thought outnumbered the votes that held him innocent.

In both these situations you lose your calmness of mind because you have indeed committed an act that you are now trying to suppress or tend to rationalize. Whether or not people learn about your unlawful act and whether or not it is proved are peripheral issues. The fact that your committing the crime and not acknowledging it itself puts you on the wrong track. Your continued preoccupation with it atthe neglect of good experience of life, is a punishment in itself.

When debating the issue with my friends, one of my friends quoted Joaquin Miller,

"In men whom men condemn as ill, I find so much goodness still.
In men whom men pronounce divine, I find so much sin and blot,
I do not dare to draw a line between the two, where God has not."

There ended the debate, both among my friends and within my head.

I'm a blogger at last!

2006-01-31T08:52:00.000-08:00

A couple of years ago, after having read a few blogs, I was motivated enough to give it a try. I thought what I chose was easy. It caught on me like wild fire. I read at least ten other blogs a day and updated mine everyday. The day, which did not start with the blog, was a day of funerals for me!

It was easy at first. I wrote about myself, then about my family and then I professed my undying love for words in every possible way. I spent hours researching about suitable topics like pro-bloggers and most of the other times indulged in creative writing. I was convinced that my priceless poems would have outshone Byron's and Kalidasa's until, better poets in the blogosphere grabbed attention:) Gradually, when I was beginning to run out of fuel, I quoted from Shakespeare and sometimes lyrics of songs did the trick like this blogger. I also tried to share some intellectual stuff like other responsible bloggers. At times, I had to resort writing about the scenic beauty and the bounties of nature. The text wandered around interesting day to day musings, finally boiling down to mundane matters. When work got hectic and when I did not have the luxury of time to devote to creativity, I decided to take a break like many others.

Now that I am relatively free and have come back, I am going through the cycle of blogging all over again. I do not mind doing anything aforesaid to keep the blog going, except ending up like this blogger who fills his posts only with links to other blogs!:) Where did this post lead me?! Oh no!

Uxorious!!!

2006-01-31T08:38:00.000-08:00

Pursuing Dictionary.com, I came across the word uxorious, meaning excessively fond of one's wife. I tried to find its counterpart, but to my surprise, I couldn't locate it. So, naturally I presumed, that there is no such word in English language to describe this rare breed, obviously this phenomenon has not been a common occurence :)) What say ladies?!

Mommy Vs Maami

2006-01-30T11:02:00.000-08:00

Parents in the US are trying hard to protect their kids from getting Americanized. I understand their concern. But, what I don't understand is how they plan to achieve that with funny exercises like giving Indian suffixes to names.

I think most of us grew up addressing women and men as "Auntie" and "uncle" respectively in the 1980s. Would that mean we were Americanised? I don't see a reason why desi parents try to make their kids address men and women as "mama" and "maami" irrespective of age, language, nationationality, to induce cultural heritage.

One of my cousin's son, like every other desi kid sports a natural American accent, and ends up confusing everyone including himself between Mommy and Mami! It is so absurd to hear him say things like - "Cop mama, Kroger mami etc. Out of vested interest, I decided to wean this kid from the habit of calling 20 odd year old girls mami and introduced the word "AKKA" to him yesterday.

During the forty minutes drive, I started like our Superstar mama "Akka sollu...Akka sollu...Akka sollu..." and ended up with Vadivel mama's "vendam alududuven" when the kid went "Inda mami peru akka"!!!

Range of girls

2006-01-30T08:04:00.000-08:00

1. "Saree wearer": Now, these women might not necessarily wear saree all the time. But, they are supposed to fall into this group because at any age, they sound like a 40 year old. They shudder at the F word and are all feminity personified. They cry at the drop of a hat. They cook like your mom and dress like your grand mom. They have loads of questions and their favourite word is DON'T.

2. "Salwar wearer": Again, does not mean they wear salwar all the time. Now, these women are a safer alternate to the first. They strike a balance between modernity and tradition and please most people. They too have their list of rights and wrongs...but are not too closed. Perhaps, they might watch you doing things until you start overdoing it and then give you a piece of their mind. But, once you cross roads with them, they are ready to give you the real fight.

3. "Trouser wearer": These are the girls that fall in the equator. They are cheeky, adventurous, non-fussy, open-minded, forward thinking individuals. In otherwords, these are the real dudettes. They too, like the previous ilk take the best from both the worlds and strike a balance. The only difference is, the previous type thinks they are cool while they are actually not and this type thinks that they are cool and indeed are! This is the fun girl that you always see in school and think, who the hell is going to marry her!!! But, by the time you are out of school, you are the one giving her roses and cards.

4. "Mini skirt wearer": These are the delicate darlings you come across in pubs and parties. Having a strange English accent that falls somewhere between the native speakers andMalayalam speakers. You will know at the sight of their nails, that they spent all their father's wealth in manicure...They too cry at the drop of the hat, much like the first type and are sheer mama's daughters!

A ray of hope

2006-01-30T06:23:00.000-08:00

After witnessing abominable politicians like Laloo Prasad Yadav and Uma Bharati, here is ray of hope . Wishing them luck and success!

Vivek vexation

2006-01-27T11:15:00.000-08:00

Vivek, unlike his contemporaries, brought an air of freshness with him everytime he came on screen. Right from Puthuputhu Arthangal days, he has not failed to entertain the Tamil audience. He has been inseparable from movies like Minnale, Run, Tirumala, Saami, Dhool, Perazhagan etc.

Unfortunately, one of his latest movies, Saravana portrays a lackluster Vivek. His spontaneity and subtle humor seems to have taken a vacation. He is probably concentrating more on his hero role in the movie - "Solli Adippaen". We have not seen many cases of comedian- turning- into- hero success stories. But, miracles do happen. Well, meanwhile, my cause of concern is losing a wonderful comedian like Vivek who entertains with thought provoking humor, to others like Vadivel who have repetitive, often, meaningless comedy. For the moment, let me just hope that his creativity block soon clears off to bring forth his proven but dormant talent.

Jana, Gana, Mana...

2006-01-26T18:31:00.000-08:00

Celebrating India, Indian music and Indian musicians!

The inanity of it all

2006-01-26T16:41:00.000-08:00

Today, I watched two Tamil movies - Adi and Saravana. It requires a lot of boredom and patience to watch two masala movies in a row on the same day.

After the movie session, there are two questions I'm pondering over -

1. Why do Indian movies always have to follow the same pattern of Mr.Badguy putting Mr.Goodguy in trouble - Mr.Goodguy patiently taking everything - until one day when Mr.Goodguy kills Mr.Badguy stuff? Did Vedavyas and Valmiki set any such rule that their convention should not be changed?

2. Why is Simbhu not arrested for beheading the villain's brother?

Sudoku

2006-01-26T09:04:00.000-08:00

I had a penchant for crossword puzzles until I cracked the first sudoku in 10 minutes. When I realized that 87% were faster than me, I felt a compelling need to make sure I did better. Since then, I am addicted to the grids and numbers.

Besides news and coffee, Sudoku announces DAWN.

2006-01-13T12:35:00.000-08:00

In reply to phoenix

I've read this somewhere -

As a rule, man is a fool,
When it's hot, he wants it cool.
When it's cool, he wants it hot,
Always wanting what is not.

Need for privacy

2006-01-13T12:00:00.000-08:00

I have been blogging for more than two years. But, I have always revelaed my identity in the couple of blogs that I maintain. I want some private space in this webworld! Hence this blog...