Folks, I'm taking a break. It'll be three days.
Now, the joke is: I'm taking books along. Hahaha!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Rang De Basanti
I finally got to see this movie. I feel it was utterly overrated. I dont think murdering your Defence Minister from the back while he's on a morning walk is very cool, whatever the motive is. Just because A kills B and goes to jail, B need not do the same right?
I wouldnt call it a terrorist act as some reviews put it because terrorists kill innocents and they kill to create terror among the masses. It wasnt so in the movie.
Also, the main characters dont show nationalism really. Even before their friend was killed in the crash, many other pilots lost their lives in similar incidents. Where was their nationalism then? They woke up only after their friend was killed. They killed the Defence Minister only to avenge the death of their dear friend.
That way, the movie really summed up the disinterested behaviour of our country's youth in all matters not concerning their friends and family. It has to be a friend or a family member killed in an air crash to wake their butts up from their deep slumber.
The movie has a lot of fun though. It has a lot of feel good quotient. The music is what I liked most.
I wouldnt call it a terrorist act as some reviews put it because terrorists kill innocents and they kill to create terror among the masses. It wasnt so in the movie.
Also, the main characters dont show nationalism really. Even before their friend was killed in the crash, many other pilots lost their lives in similar incidents. Where was their nationalism then? They woke up only after their friend was killed. They killed the Defence Minister only to avenge the death of their dear friend.
That way, the movie really summed up the disinterested behaviour of our country's youth in all matters not concerning their friends and family. It has to be a friend or a family member killed in an air crash to wake their butts up from their deep slumber.
The movie has a lot of fun though. It has a lot of feel good quotient. The music is what I liked most.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
What is technology?
A website which is down when you need it most.
A broadband connection that gets disconnected without warning.
A mobile phone network that replies after two hours to a cricket score enquiry, well after the match is over and the news bulletins are filed.
An ATM that asks you to return after three hours.
An ATM that forces you to walk a few KM. in hot afternoon sun to draw money at another ATM so that you may have your lunch.
That's what technology is.
We live in a great era. Go celebrate with your outdated mobile phone!
A broadband connection that gets disconnected without warning.
A mobile phone network that replies after two hours to a cricket score enquiry, well after the match is over and the news bulletins are filed.
An ATM that asks you to return after three hours.
An ATM that forces you to walk a few KM. in hot afternoon sun to draw money at another ATM so that you may have your lunch.
That's what technology is.
We live in a great era. Go celebrate with your outdated mobile phone!
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Wah Taj!
After a gap of six months, I got to move out of the dust and noise of Delhi. My dad and grandpa were here and on the morning of the 23rd, we were on the North - South Corridor, to Agra. I got my first experience of the N-S Corridor, that is talked about so much. It is a four laner, quite impressive I must say considering that this is India, once a land of, they say, snake charmers.
Honorary Driver, Mani ji was pretty good with his driving. He burned off 200 KM in 3 hours flat. On the way to Agra, we checked out the magnificent mausoleum at Sikandra, where Akbar The Great was buried. The story goes that Akbar began the construction of the monument but couldnt see its completion, which was overseen by his son, Jehangir. Much of it was red sandstone. The more luxurious and important parts were constructed with marble. The most striking aspect was the rich artwork everywhere.
I was surprised to see so many deer in the extensive lawns, feeding on the grass and happily living their lives, occasionally throwing a curious glance at the strange beings that have come to see the old buildings near them. Never bring Salman Khan here! The langoors were spending more energy apparently, jumping here and there, begging the tourists for an extra load of peanuts or a banana.
There were many other tombs in the building. Akbar's tomb itself was located in a giant hall, which I guess is present at the centre of the whole complex. The guide there demonstrated the amazing acoustics of the hall.
Back on the highway, when we entered a large town with shabbily constructed houses and dust laden roads, we were wondering what this town's name might be. Mani ji was surprised. "Agra!", he said.
It is one of the shabbiest and filthiest towns I've seen. It attracts thousands of tourists from all over the world everyday. Yet, the first impression that you get of Agra is not commensurate with its standing as a prominent tourist location. Instead, you'd be greeted with cow dung by the road side, houses which look so old that they may collapse at the application of a little pressure with your fore finger, narrow dusty roads, open drainage lines, and litter was everywhere to be seen.
But once we got close to the Taj Mahal complex, the scene took a 180 degree turn. The roads looked much better, lined by thick greenery and it seemed as if we've come to another city entirely.
Security was tight. We had to leave our cellphones outside. We were made to pass through metal detectors and were frisked thoroughly. I wonder why any terrorist would choose to blow up Taj Mahal out of all places. This made my dad observe that they always look at the wrong places for terrorists, which seemed true.
Inside the complex, there were hordes of people, in hundreds, marvelling at one of the most magnificent buildings in the world. There is a great difference between seeing a place in photographs and seeing it in real. One aspect which is clouded in the photographs is the sheer size of the Taj Mahal. It is so big! You have to get close to it and see for yourself to get hold of its sheer size.
Technology can be a great source of irritation sometimes. People were more involved in taking photographs than seeing the thing they've come to see!
Tourists had to leave their footwear outside. Somebody conceived a brilliant idea, however: cover your shoes with some cloth or a polythene cover. Simple! All it takes is five bucks for the man. Easy money for him. By even the most conservative estimate (100 customers a day at Rs. 5 each), this man must earn about 15,000 bucks a month! No math, no phone calls, no paper work, no C++ or Java, no formal dressing, no English speaking skills, no ass licking! And the Prakashes and the Brindas still cry sollu over liberalization and its apparent (but false) effect of job losses. If you want to make money, even at all odds, you can. This is an excellent example.
The whole place was marble and only marble! From a distance, it shines brilliantly in the sun. When you get close to it, however, you can understand the argument that pollution is damaging its beauty. It has a shade of light brown, almost absent but definitely noticeable.
The perfect symmetry everywhere was amazing, interrupted only by Shah Jahan's tomb inside the mausoleum, beside the tomb of Mumtaj Mahal. Nobody was allowed to enter the circle and touch the tomb. The actual crypt, they say, lies under the marble slabs which go for tombs. Its door was locked. I was baffled to see people throwing money through the gate. The interior of the mausoleum was heavily decorated in floral designs. There was a script running down and across the walls, I guess in Persian, maybe Quranic verses.
The minarets are quite impressive. You cant stop wondering how they could build such tall buildings four centuries ago. River Yamuna flows slowly and silently along the eastern side of the Taj Mahal. It was afternoon and it was pretty hot but once we entered the shadow on the eastern side, the marble felt so nice and cool.
There were so many lovers to be seen. Some beautiful and some ugly but all bound by that beautiful thing called love. There were many more singles to be seen. Apparently, the monument of love that they have come to see had an extrasensory effect on them. Those naughty glances were exchanged between members of the two sexes more frequently than usual. Everyone was caught in the aura of the Taj it seemed.
We had to walk around so much that our legs began to ache. We took one last look at the big beauty and bid goodbye. The next place to see was the Red Fort. The inscription on the stone slab there says, "It is the most important fort of India". Just outside, however, one can smell that characteristic odour of the Musi in Hyderabad. It was shocking to see so much filth and litter lying in the moat. Shame!
Red Fort is as big as an entire village... so many rooms, so many halls. It was the same red stone everywhere. Rich artwork again. One surprising aspect of all these buildings is that one rarely sees any metal. They're made entirely of red stone, interrupted here and there by marble.
Back on the highway, we were confronted with a traffic jam in a village, just a few KM. from Agra. Mani ji's enquiry had revealed that a Toyota Qualis had hit a tractor, whose driver fell out and came under the wheels of the Qualis. Angry villagers began to protest and blocked the road. The police were unsuccessful in getting them off the road. Some local politician had to come to pacify them!
Whoever came, he came pretty early and traffic began to move, to the relief of everyone because it was already 6 PM. and we had to see Mathura too on the way. Mathura was no different from Agra in its aesthetic quotient. It was the same - dirt, dust, litter.
We checked out only one place at Mathura - Sri Krishna's birthplace. It was the same security procedure again. This time, we had to leave our cameras also behind.
It was enchanting to be where dear Mr. Krishna was born. I was quite eager to check out the Gopikas and I wasnt disappointed.
The inside of the temple was splendid. The most beautiful thing was the sanctum sanctorum. The statues of Mr. Krishna and Ms. Radha, decorated liberally with jewels, shone brilliantly. The light that reflected off them made holes in my heart, entered its deepest corners and illuminated it. My mind, however, refused to side with my heart initially. I went away to circumambulate around the sanctum sanctorum. The walls contained pictures of all the numerous forms of Lord Vishnu. In the middle, I encountered the picture of Bharat Mata and this time, my mind gladly accepted to go with my heart and I gave Her a long namaskaar.
I felt much better. Once I was back in the front of the statues, however, I looked at them again and remembered Mr. Krishna's eternal words: "Whosoever comes to me, in whatsoever form, I reach him. All people are struggling in paths, which in the end, lead to Me." I thought, "I'm not a chimpanzee, am I? Am I not one of these 'people'?" Well, my heart for once defeated my mind and I found myself praying!
Ahem! Q#T^$%&^*^ whatever... anyway, we had chai outside and got back on the highway. We had dinner at a road side dhaba. Fortunately, they served some much needed beer :D The chilled, frothing beer soothed my mind and cajoled my worked up, rusted knees and put the pain to sleep. The smooth high engendered some interesting conversation and I realized it has been quite a while since I had such a conversation with my family members!
It was 12.30 PM when we got back to the hotel in Delhi. We bid goodbye to Mr. Mani ji and shook hands with him. I came back to my room and within an hour I was in dreamland. I had some tight sleep thanks to my tired limbs.
Hmmm... and so ended a day in this man's life.
---
Now, I've seen the Taj Mahal myself but not in detail because I was there for only about an hour and a half. So it was difficult to investigate the theory that the Taj Mahal was a medieval Shiva temple. When I heard it first, I thought it was ridiculous. I still do think so but I do have my mind open to any truth that might come out.
Also, people must remember that it is just an old building. It is better if we just move on with our lives. If the theory is indeed true, we must accept the truth and even then, move on with our lives. It is just a historical issue. After all, it is not going to improve our Human Development Index, is it?
Nevertheless, there are some people in India, who would love to exploit such issues to create violence and disorder for political gains. What better examples than the Advanis and the Togadias! If they hijack this issue, it can be bad for the country.
Honorary Driver, Mani ji was pretty good with his driving. He burned off 200 KM in 3 hours flat. On the way to Agra, we checked out the magnificent mausoleum at Sikandra, where Akbar The Great was buried. The story goes that Akbar began the construction of the monument but couldnt see its completion, which was overseen by his son, Jehangir. Much of it was red sandstone. The more luxurious and important parts were constructed with marble. The most striking aspect was the rich artwork everywhere.
I was surprised to see so many deer in the extensive lawns, feeding on the grass and happily living their lives, occasionally throwing a curious glance at the strange beings that have come to see the old buildings near them. Never bring Salman Khan here! The langoors were spending more energy apparently, jumping here and there, begging the tourists for an extra load of peanuts or a banana.
There were many other tombs in the building. Akbar's tomb itself was located in a giant hall, which I guess is present at the centre of the whole complex. The guide there demonstrated the amazing acoustics of the hall.
Back on the highway, when we entered a large town with shabbily constructed houses and dust laden roads, we were wondering what this town's name might be. Mani ji was surprised. "Agra!", he said.
It is one of the shabbiest and filthiest towns I've seen. It attracts thousands of tourists from all over the world everyday. Yet, the first impression that you get of Agra is not commensurate with its standing as a prominent tourist location. Instead, you'd be greeted with cow dung by the road side, houses which look so old that they may collapse at the application of a little pressure with your fore finger, narrow dusty roads, open drainage lines, and litter was everywhere to be seen.
But once we got close to the Taj Mahal complex, the scene took a 180 degree turn. The roads looked much better, lined by thick greenery and it seemed as if we've come to another city entirely.
Security was tight. We had to leave our cellphones outside. We were made to pass through metal detectors and were frisked thoroughly. I wonder why any terrorist would choose to blow up Taj Mahal out of all places. This made my dad observe that they always look at the wrong places for terrorists, which seemed true.
Inside the complex, there were hordes of people, in hundreds, marvelling at one of the most magnificent buildings in the world. There is a great difference between seeing a place in photographs and seeing it in real. One aspect which is clouded in the photographs is the sheer size of the Taj Mahal. It is so big! You have to get close to it and see for yourself to get hold of its sheer size.
Technology can be a great source of irritation sometimes. People were more involved in taking photographs than seeing the thing they've come to see!
Tourists had to leave their footwear outside. Somebody conceived a brilliant idea, however: cover your shoes with some cloth or a polythene cover. Simple! All it takes is five bucks for the man. Easy money for him. By even the most conservative estimate (100 customers a day at Rs. 5 each), this man must earn about 15,000 bucks a month! No math, no phone calls, no paper work, no C++ or Java, no formal dressing, no English speaking skills, no ass licking! And the Prakashes and the Brindas still cry sollu over liberalization and its apparent (but false) effect of job losses. If you want to make money, even at all odds, you can. This is an excellent example.
The whole place was marble and only marble! From a distance, it shines brilliantly in the sun. When you get close to it, however, you can understand the argument that pollution is damaging its beauty. It has a shade of light brown, almost absent but definitely noticeable.
The perfect symmetry everywhere was amazing, interrupted only by Shah Jahan's tomb inside the mausoleum, beside the tomb of Mumtaj Mahal. Nobody was allowed to enter the circle and touch the tomb. The actual crypt, they say, lies under the marble slabs which go for tombs. Its door was locked. I was baffled to see people throwing money through the gate. The interior of the mausoleum was heavily decorated in floral designs. There was a script running down and across the walls, I guess in Persian, maybe Quranic verses.
The minarets are quite impressive. You cant stop wondering how they could build such tall buildings four centuries ago. River Yamuna flows slowly and silently along the eastern side of the Taj Mahal. It was afternoon and it was pretty hot but once we entered the shadow on the eastern side, the marble felt so nice and cool.
There were so many lovers to be seen. Some beautiful and some ugly but all bound by that beautiful thing called love. There were many more singles to be seen. Apparently, the monument of love that they have come to see had an extrasensory effect on them. Those naughty glances were exchanged between members of the two sexes more frequently than usual. Everyone was caught in the aura of the Taj it seemed.
We had to walk around so much that our legs began to ache. We took one last look at the big beauty and bid goodbye. The next place to see was the Red Fort. The inscription on the stone slab there says, "It is the most important fort of India". Just outside, however, one can smell that characteristic odour of the Musi in Hyderabad. It was shocking to see so much filth and litter lying in the moat. Shame!
Red Fort is as big as an entire village... so many rooms, so many halls. It was the same red stone everywhere. Rich artwork again. One surprising aspect of all these buildings is that one rarely sees any metal. They're made entirely of red stone, interrupted here and there by marble.
Back on the highway, we were confronted with a traffic jam in a village, just a few KM. from Agra. Mani ji's enquiry had revealed that a Toyota Qualis had hit a tractor, whose driver fell out and came under the wheels of the Qualis. Angry villagers began to protest and blocked the road. The police were unsuccessful in getting them off the road. Some local politician had to come to pacify them!
Whoever came, he came pretty early and traffic began to move, to the relief of everyone because it was already 6 PM. and we had to see Mathura too on the way. Mathura was no different from Agra in its aesthetic quotient. It was the same - dirt, dust, litter.
We checked out only one place at Mathura - Sri Krishna's birthplace. It was the same security procedure again. This time, we had to leave our cameras also behind.
It was enchanting to be where dear Mr. Krishna was born. I was quite eager to check out the Gopikas and I wasnt disappointed.
The inside of the temple was splendid. The most beautiful thing was the sanctum sanctorum. The statues of Mr. Krishna and Ms. Radha, decorated liberally with jewels, shone brilliantly. The light that reflected off them made holes in my heart, entered its deepest corners and illuminated it. My mind, however, refused to side with my heart initially. I went away to circumambulate around the sanctum sanctorum. The walls contained pictures of all the numerous forms of Lord Vishnu. In the middle, I encountered the picture of Bharat Mata and this time, my mind gladly accepted to go with my heart and I gave Her a long namaskaar.
I felt much better. Once I was back in the front of the statues, however, I looked at them again and remembered Mr. Krishna's eternal words: "Whosoever comes to me, in whatsoever form, I reach him. All people are struggling in paths, which in the end, lead to Me." I thought, "I'm not a chimpanzee, am I? Am I not one of these 'people'?" Well, my heart for once defeated my mind and I found myself praying!
Ahem! Q#T^$%&^*^ whatever... anyway, we had chai outside and got back on the highway. We had dinner at a road side dhaba. Fortunately, they served some much needed beer :D The chilled, frothing beer soothed my mind and cajoled my worked up, rusted knees and put the pain to sleep. The smooth high engendered some interesting conversation and I realized it has been quite a while since I had such a conversation with my family members!
It was 12.30 PM when we got back to the hotel in Delhi. We bid goodbye to Mr. Mani ji and shook hands with him. I came back to my room and within an hour I was in dreamland. I had some tight sleep thanks to my tired limbs.
Hmmm... and so ended a day in this man's life.
---
Now, I've seen the Taj Mahal myself but not in detail because I was there for only about an hour and a half. So it was difficult to investigate the theory that the Taj Mahal was a medieval Shiva temple. When I heard it first, I thought it was ridiculous. I still do think so but I do have my mind open to any truth that might come out.
Also, people must remember that it is just an old building. It is better if we just move on with our lives. If the theory is indeed true, we must accept the truth and even then, move on with our lives. It is just a historical issue. After all, it is not going to improve our Human Development Index, is it?
Nevertheless, there are some people in India, who would love to exploit such issues to create violence and disorder for political gains. What better examples than the Advanis and the Togadias! If they hijack this issue, it can be bad for the country.
Friday, March 24, 2006
QTT@^#*$?!
Sonia Gandhi reminds me of Muhammad bin Tughlaq. She also reminds me of that fabled guy who saws the tree branch on which he's sitting. Finally, she reminds me of Erragadda Mental Hospital.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Shit happens
In war, shit happens and shit also happens to those who care least. Like to Eman Waleed's family, "one morning in Haditha". Shall we blame Bush or the terrorists?
Monday, March 20, 2006
!
When your father and grand father come to see you after six months, you'd be excited that you too will get to see them after a long time. Well, I am excited too. It's been a while but somewhere in the depths, there is this feeling of... hmmm, let's say fear. Feels strange.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Burn Them Cheats!
Last March, I remember, when we were struggling to get sponsors for Surge 2005, Naren used to hold a copy of The Times of India aloft, gawk at the page long advertisements and muse about going to IIPM for sponsorship. That time, it was just a joke. But what happened seven months later could prove we missed out on some big money!
Well, it's pretty late. This whole thing happened about six months ago. I stumbled on it a few hours back. You know, I've been telling people on YIM that I havent seen a movie in the last six months, followed by a "sad" smiley. This stuff really covers up that deficit many times over.
This is tremendous. Few movies will provide the thrills that this issue can. So, go ahead and enjoy! Follow all the links for maximum benefit. The legal notice that Gaurav got was particulary hilarious.
In relation, I've been buying a particular magazine called "Business & Economy". The cover page and the issues they covered seemed attractive but some of their stuff has been plain ridiculous. After you read, you feel as if the Prime Minister and the President are sleeping. The fact that the magazine's chief editor looked more like a Page 3 type, with designer specs, designer tie, designer watch, designer suit, while arguing for the country's poor, made me even more suspicious.
By fortuitous coincidence, I discovered that the chief editor of this magazine, "Prof." Arindam Chaudhuri, is the villain of the IIPM story. So, today, feeling cheated, I shall burn all the three editions of that magazine that I have. And I shall rejoice seeing the ashes fly.
PS: I know my making it look as a source for entertainment doesnt seem to be a cool thing to do. But what the hell, it happened six months back!
PS2: I wonder what IIPM's and "Prof." A. Chaudhari's state is today.
PS3: My middle finger to "Prof." A. Chaudhari and IIPM.
Well, it's pretty late. This whole thing happened about six months ago. I stumbled on it a few hours back. You know, I've been telling people on YIM that I havent seen a movie in the last six months, followed by a "sad" smiley. This stuff really covers up that deficit many times over.
This is tremendous. Few movies will provide the thrills that this issue can. So, go ahead and enjoy! Follow all the links for maximum benefit. The legal notice that Gaurav got was particulary hilarious.
In relation, I've been buying a particular magazine called "Business & Economy". The cover page and the issues they covered seemed attractive but some of their stuff has been plain ridiculous. After you read, you feel as if the Prime Minister and the President are sleeping. The fact that the magazine's chief editor looked more like a Page 3 type, with designer specs, designer tie, designer watch, designer suit, while arguing for the country's poor, made me even more suspicious.
By fortuitous coincidence, I discovered that the chief editor of this magazine, "Prof." Arindam Chaudhuri, is the villain of the IIPM story. So, today, feeling cheated, I shall burn all the three editions of that magazine that I have. And I shall rejoice seeing the ashes fly.
PS: I know my making it look as a source for entertainment doesnt seem to be a cool thing to do. But what the hell, it happened six months back!
PS2: I wonder what IIPM's and "Prof." A. Chaudhari's state is today.
PS3: My middle finger to "Prof." A. Chaudhari and IIPM.
You think world oil production has passed its peak? David Friedman thinks otherwise.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
It's the Games mate!
"We celebrate the value of sport as a means of bringing together people from 71 nations and territories and from a wide range of cultures, traditions and beliefs," she said.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
"No one thinks out loud"
In the Quiet Land, no one can tell
if there's someone who's listening
for secrets they can sell.
The informers are paid in the blood of the land
and no one dares speak what the tyrants won't stand.
In the quiet land of Burma,
no one laughs and no one thinks out loud.
- Aang San Suu Kyi.
if there's someone who's listening
for secrets they can sell.
The informers are paid in the blood of the land
and no one dares speak what the tyrants won't stand.
In the quiet land of Burma,
no one laughs and no one thinks out loud.
- Aang San Suu Kyi.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Tariq Jalal
You know Tariq Jalal? Tariq is a "science graduate and a trained radiologist and had done a three-month course in computers". Is Tariq going to win the Nobel Prize?
Things...
#1: Instructor: (Draws a few lines on the board and asks...) What are these?
Class:
Longitude!
Latitude madam!
No, no... Longitude!
Latitude!
Longitude!
#2: Seen in a classmate's answer paper:
Question: Mark the following on the world map given and write appropriate geographical expressions not exceeding 30 words.
Q3: Israel.
Answer: A Middle East country situated in Central Asia.
#3: Seen in a classmate's notes:
"Chaina".
-------------------------
What the hell am I doing among these people?!
Class:
Longitude!
Latitude madam!
No, no... Longitude!
Latitude!
Longitude!
#2: Seen in a classmate's answer paper:
Question: Mark the following on the world map given and write appropriate geographical expressions not exceeding 30 words.
Q3: Israel.
Answer: A Middle East country situated in Central Asia.
#3: Seen in a classmate's notes:
"Chaina".
-------------------------
What the hell am I doing among these people?!
A classmate on YIM: ur aiming too high....dats what i want to say..
der is a lot of competiotion in vry field these dys...
Background: Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel is just the freight train coming your way.
der is a lot of competiotion in vry field these dys...
Background: Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel is just the freight train coming your way.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
It feels right this time...
And it feels right this time
On this crash course we're the big time
Pay no mind to the distant thunder
Beauty fills his head with wonder, boy
Says it feels right this time
Turned it 'round and found the high light
"Good day to be alive, sir
Good day to be alive," he said
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
is just the freight train coming your way
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
is just the freight train coming your way
- Metallica.
On this crash course we're the big time
Pay no mind to the distant thunder
Beauty fills his head with wonder, boy
Says it feels right this time
Turned it 'round and found the high light
"Good day to be alive, sir
Good day to be alive," he said
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
is just the freight train coming your way
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel
is just the freight train coming your way
- Metallica.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
The Would Be Beggar
Leena goes camping,
Ravi goes to Pondicherry,
Sowjanya goes to Ooty, Bangalore,
Vignesh goes to Goa,
Sravanth is planning a trip to Delhi,
Arvind is planning a trip to Ladakh.
Me? Me?? Nothing!
I'll just stay in this stink hole in Delhi,
Wallowing in the dust,
Watching the geckos try to mate,
Watching spiders suck out the juices from their prey insects,
Watching unidentified insects climb up the walls,
Watching the chaotic arrangement of clothes, books, papers and other shit everytime I walk in the room,
Getting hit by waterballoons by kids everytime I walk out,
Watching Firefox close saying "Firefox has performed an illegal operation and needs to be closed. Inconvenience is regretted",
Watching my hands become red and swollen when I bang my hands on the table in rage everytime that happens,
Watching the strange shapes assumed by all the things I bang against the floor in rage everytime that happens,
Screaming loud while nobody in the neighbourhood cares to notice.
Someday, you'll meet me on the road side,
At the RTC Crossroads in Hyderabad,
Screaming "Ammaaa.. ayyaaa... dharmam cheyyandamma.. ayyaaa...".
My hair will be dirty and long,
My clothes will be dirty and torn,
I'll have a beard extending to my knees,
I'll be having atleast three or four diseases,
One of them being elephentiasis.
One of my legs will look like a sumo wrestler's,
You wont find my other leg,
I'll be moving around on a wooden roller,
Screaming "Ammmaa.. ayyaa.. dharmam cheyyandayya...".
Nobody will notice,
People will be busy,
Driving by in their airconditioned sedans,
Listening to Bon Jovi.
One day a bus or some lorry will come and hit me,
I'll be smashed to pieces,
Nobody will care,
Flies and mosquitos will be flying over my remains.
A tired and disgusted MCH worker,
Will pick up my pieces mumbling abuses,
And throw them in a dustbin,
A pathetic life will come to a beautiful end.
Ravi goes to Pondicherry,
Sowjanya goes to Ooty, Bangalore,
Vignesh goes to Goa,
Sravanth is planning a trip to Delhi,
Arvind is planning a trip to Ladakh.
Me? Me?? Nothing!
I'll just stay in this stink hole in Delhi,
Wallowing in the dust,
Watching the geckos try to mate,
Watching spiders suck out the juices from their prey insects,
Watching unidentified insects climb up the walls,
Watching the chaotic arrangement of clothes, books, papers and other shit everytime I walk in the room,
Getting hit by waterballoons by kids everytime I walk out,
Watching Firefox close saying "Firefox has performed an illegal operation and needs to be closed. Inconvenience is regretted",
Watching my hands become red and swollen when I bang my hands on the table in rage everytime that happens,
Watching the strange shapes assumed by all the things I bang against the floor in rage everytime that happens,
Screaming loud while nobody in the neighbourhood cares to notice.
Someday, you'll meet me on the road side,
At the RTC Crossroads in Hyderabad,
Screaming "Ammaaa.. ayyaaa... dharmam cheyyandamma.. ayyaaa...".
My hair will be dirty and long,
My clothes will be dirty and torn,
I'll have a beard extending to my knees,
I'll be having atleast three or four diseases,
One of them being elephentiasis.
One of my legs will look like a sumo wrestler's,
You wont find my other leg,
I'll be moving around on a wooden roller,
Screaming "Ammmaa.. ayyaa.. dharmam cheyyandayya...".
Nobody will notice,
People will be busy,
Driving by in their airconditioned sedans,
Listening to Bon Jovi.
One day a bus or some lorry will come and hit me,
I'll be smashed to pieces,
Nobody will care,
Flies and mosquitos will be flying over my remains.
A tired and disgusted MCH worker,
Will pick up my pieces mumbling abuses,
And throw them in a dustbin,
A pathetic life will come to a beautiful end.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Rain rain..
It's beautiful. I dont like gloomy weather that much. I like clear skies and bright sun. But this has somehow triggered a feeling of peace - maybe I'm just finding some company in the gloom.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Just for the record...
Today, at different locations in Delhi, I was smacked by a total of atleast 5 water balloons. One of those made my pants almost entirely wet. Much anger was expressed. Angry words were spoken. But they were returned with fearless, hearty laughter. Much blood boiled.
Football!
News: India's Supreme Court has issued a rare prison sentence to Ms. Zahira Sheikh for perjury in a high-profile murder case (Best Bakery Case) arising from the 2002 Gujarat religious riots.
Strange isnt it, how gullible witnesses like Ms. Sheikh are kicked all over the field, like this post to that post, like a football is. Considering that no protection whatsoever is offered to witnesses in high profile cases like this, the Supreme Court now seems to have kicked Ms. Sheikh, "the football", into the crowd! Shabhash SC! Keep kicking!
Strange isnt it, how gullible witnesses like Ms. Sheikh are kicked all over the field, like this post to that post, like a football is. Considering that no protection whatsoever is offered to witnesses in high profile cases like this, the Supreme Court now seems to have kicked Ms. Sheikh, "the football", into the crowd! Shabhash SC! Keep kicking!
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
50-50!
I realized that March 8 is the International Women's Day when I switched on my radio at 0400, after the weird psychological condition of apathy encircled me almost totally. I was trying to get a grip on the complex world of Indian agriculture when I realized there is no use studying when your brain shows you the middle finger.
I switched on the radio, pressed the scan button a few times to reach AIR and there came an interview between the host and some prominent woman leader. Words like self belief were heard more often than any other.
Fast forward to 1330, when I woke up, after some much needed sleep. Again, words like self belief were heard more often than any other in interviews with a woman professor of Delhi University and a prominent woman politician of Uttar Pradesh.
From the primary status that they occupied in the Indus Valley society, Indian women have been reduced to a liability in the agrarian country that India is today (you know, a male is an extra pair of hands in the field compared to a woman). More so, in the chiefly agrarian states of northern India like Punjab, Haryana compared to the southern states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu, where women still occupy high societal status.
India has an awful sex ratio of 933 males per 1000 females. This is all the more surprising when you know that there are quite a lot of women who have been in the higher echelons of Indian society, like say the Indira Gandhis and M. S. Subbalakshmis. Women, these days get 33% reservation in educational institutions. A similar scheme is being mulled over to get 33% reservation for women in the Parliament. Women always find chivalrous male counterparts who kick the shit out of their fellows who try to act too smart with women, in cinema ticket queues.
Even so, women in India are still confronted with problems like denial of education (unlike their brothers), eve teasing (which has more spread than any other problem), "moral policing" (you know, wear only salwar kameez instead of jeans and tops), rape, sexual harassment and the like.
The average Indian woman (which includes teenaged girls) today needs male company whenever she ventures out of the house. Men's primal instincts, it seems, have shown only a distressingly more intensive trend. We are all used to hearing stories about eve teasing cases, in which no distinction is shown between women in their vayasu and those married with kids. Stories like Hemangani's are becoming more ubiquitous day by day.
When one thinks of a solution to the afore mentioned problems, there seem to be no straight solutions, apart from the jail term one would get if convicted of rape. Punishment for eve teasing and sexual harassment also have provisions in Indian law but these are the areas in which enforcing the law is found to be more difficult. And of course there are cases in which courts themselves deny justice, for example, in the case of IAF officer Anjali Gupta
So it looks like the "saga" of the Indian woman continues, Indian democracy or not, rule of law or not. Of course, there are stars like Jayalalitha and Sania Mirza but please note that Sania is valued (yes, I dare to say this because I've heard it so often) by Indian men more for her physical attributes than her sporting talents.
Here's some caution to all those nationalists who are gung ho about seeing India on the map of the world's superpowers (with unreasonable levels of optimism of course): While our population is such a burden over us as a nation, it is also a problem which when turned into an opportunity can yield unbelievable results. Do note that we have a middle class which is higher in number compared to the entire population of the United States!
This figure, however, hides some things, mainly the male - female divide. While we rave and rant about India's demographic advantages (much to the irritation of Western ears), we must question ourselves about how many of our 1.038 billion people are really contributing to the nation's economy. Even today, a large proportion of those millions are housewives. China is going to be a nation of oldies, gulping healthcare funds (as it is already happening in Japan and Europe), much sooner than India . India, then, will be having the largest "workable" population in the world - a tremendous demographic advantage. But when almost half of those (i.e., women) spend their time serving their husbands chai and making Bournvita for their children, how can we say that we have the largest "workable" population?
Of course, the women are not to blame for this. This is a serious issue which needs to be addressed by our leaders. Our women are some of the most talented in the world. Many of them have earned honours in India and elsewhere but their contribution can be nowhere comparable to that of the men's contributions.
This has to change. I am a man and at times, I feel ashamed and even guilty to live in a country in which most of our women dont get the leverage that they should in daily life. "50%" is the word. It is time we live in a country in which men and women contribute equally i.e., in a 50-50 proportion and thereby ensuring that we take advantage of our distinct demographic prospects.
I switched on the radio, pressed the scan button a few times to reach AIR and there came an interview between the host and some prominent woman leader. Words like self belief were heard more often than any other.
Fast forward to 1330, when I woke up, after some much needed sleep. Again, words like self belief were heard more often than any other in interviews with a woman professor of Delhi University and a prominent woman politician of Uttar Pradesh.
From the primary status that they occupied in the Indus Valley society, Indian women have been reduced to a liability in the agrarian country that India is today (you know, a male is an extra pair of hands in the field compared to a woman). More so, in the chiefly agrarian states of northern India like Punjab, Haryana compared to the southern states of Kerala and Tamil Nadu, where women still occupy high societal status.
India has an awful sex ratio of 933 males per 1000 females. This is all the more surprising when you know that there are quite a lot of women who have been in the higher echelons of Indian society, like say the Indira Gandhis and M. S. Subbalakshmis. Women, these days get 33% reservation in educational institutions. A similar scheme is being mulled over to get 33% reservation for women in the Parliament. Women always find chivalrous male counterparts who kick the shit out of their fellows who try to act too smart with women, in cinema ticket queues.
Even so, women in India are still confronted with problems like denial of education (unlike their brothers), eve teasing (which has more spread than any other problem), "moral policing" (you know, wear only salwar kameez instead of jeans and tops), rape, sexual harassment and the like.
The average Indian woman (which includes teenaged girls) today needs male company whenever she ventures out of the house. Men's primal instincts, it seems, have shown only a distressingly more intensive trend. We are all used to hearing stories about eve teasing cases, in which no distinction is shown between women in their vayasu and those married with kids. Stories like Hemangani's are becoming more ubiquitous day by day.
When one thinks of a solution to the afore mentioned problems, there seem to be no straight solutions, apart from the jail term one would get if convicted of rape. Punishment for eve teasing and sexual harassment also have provisions in Indian law but these are the areas in which enforcing the law is found to be more difficult. And of course there are cases in which courts themselves deny justice, for example, in the case of IAF officer Anjali Gupta
So it looks like the "saga" of the Indian woman continues, Indian democracy or not, rule of law or not. Of course, there are stars like Jayalalitha and Sania Mirza but please note that Sania is valued (yes, I dare to say this because I've heard it so often) by Indian men more for her physical attributes than her sporting talents.
Here's some caution to all those nationalists who are gung ho about seeing India on the map of the world's superpowers (with unreasonable levels of optimism of course): While our population is such a burden over us as a nation, it is also a problem which when turned into an opportunity can yield unbelievable results. Do note that we have a middle class which is higher in number compared to the entire population of the United States!
This figure, however, hides some things, mainly the male - female divide. While we rave and rant about India's demographic advantages (much to the irritation of Western ears), we must question ourselves about how many of our 1.038 billion people are really contributing to the nation's economy. Even today, a large proportion of those millions are housewives. China is going to be a nation of oldies, gulping healthcare funds (as it is already happening in Japan and Europe), much sooner than India . India, then, will be having the largest "workable" population in the world - a tremendous demographic advantage. But when almost half of those (i.e., women) spend their time serving their husbands chai and making Bournvita for their children, how can we say that we have the largest "workable" population?
Of course, the women are not to blame for this. This is a serious issue which needs to be addressed by our leaders. Our women are some of the most talented in the world. Many of them have earned honours in India and elsewhere but their contribution can be nowhere comparable to that of the men's contributions.
This has to change. I am a man and at times, I feel ashamed and even guilty to live in a country in which most of our women dont get the leverage that they should in daily life. "50%" is the word. It is time we live in a country in which men and women contribute equally i.e., in a 50-50 proportion and thereby ensuring that we take advantage of our distinct demographic prospects.
God? Where? Show me
"This should not happen in a holy place. I cannot emphasise how special this temple is. Now, thousands of people are standing at the gate crying and screaming. None of them are allowed inside."
Sankot Mochan is a temple dedicated to the God Hanuman and is where Goswami Tulsidas, one of India's greatest poets, saw the God Hanuman in physical form 400 years ago.
This is a god who symbolises devotion, intellect and unparalleled power and protection to devotees (emphasis added) Duh!
Tell me, what did this kid do? What sin did he commit? What sin did all the others who were killed and injured commit? And where is the "protection" of God Hanuman? Where is Hanuman? Where is God? Why do you fools still believe that there is this thing called God?
Sankot Mochan is a temple dedicated to the God Hanuman and is where Goswami Tulsidas, one of India's greatest poets, saw the God Hanuman in physical form 400 years ago.
This is a god who symbolises devotion, intellect and unparalleled power and protection to devotees (emphasis added) Duh!
Tell me, what did this kid do? What sin did he commit? What sin did all the others who were killed and injured commit? And where is the "protection" of God Hanuman? Where is Hanuman? Where is God? Why do you fools still believe that there is this thing called God?
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Of bushes and shrubs...
Do you think there is no answer to America's might? Think again. Answers, it seems, can be found after all from the wonderful principle of Duality. Read on.
Bush -> Shrub
Rice -> Wheat
Burns -> Cuts
Dick -> (Ahem!)
Bill -> Memo
Washington -> Cleaningkilo
Albright -> Everythingdark
Johnson -> Pauldaughter
Portsmouth -> Harboursbutt
Let's stop here for now.
Disclaimer: This is just one of those meaningless trips of mine. This post may not be construed as a parodical attack on America or anything similar.
Bush -> Shrub
Rice -> Wheat
Burns -> Cuts
Dick -> (Ahem!)
Bill -> Memo
Washington -> Cleaningkilo
Albright -> Everythingdark
Johnson -> Pauldaughter
Portsmouth -> Harboursbutt
Let's stop here for now.
Disclaimer: This is just one of those meaningless trips of mine. This post may not be construed as a parodical attack on America or anything similar.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Burning Ice
If you pour a shot of rum on bare ice cubes in a glass, and then light it, would it burn? In short, have you ever tried burning ice? Interesting isnt it? While you wonder if that can happen, you may want to take a look at this.
Friday, March 03, 2006
September, October, November, December.
Why wasnt it named Octember, considering that all their prefixes are "numerical in nature"?
Why wasnt it named Octember, considering that all their prefixes are "numerical in nature"?
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Oh those days!
Cricket used to be much more charming in those days, when you'd run home from school after the lunch bell and crash on to the TV to get an update. Well, this match was played during one of those days. This video brings back some memories of those days. Matchfixing or no matchfixing, we really miss Azzu bhai. And hey! You'd be committing a crime if you'd miss the crowd roaring at the Eden Gardens. So watch it at full volume!
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
State Of Fear?
Ok! I would've loved this if it was in the form of a novel like Michael Crichton's State of Fear or Dan Brown's Deception Point or a computer game like Deus Ex.
I never thought Maneka Gandhi was a conspiracy theorist. It makes a good read if you have a predilection for conspiracy theories. If not, it is a piece of utter nonsense, as it seemed to me. It's just a publicity stunt if anything. Gladly, no major newspaper published this nonsense.
It is all the more surprising when it comes from someone as popular as Maneka Gandhi, who with this stuff, seemed to have assumed the tag of the Supreme Enlightened. Of course, we, governments, scientists, people, are all fools. Leave it to Maneka Gandhi to shine some light into our ignorant minds.
I never thought Maneka Gandhi was a conspiracy theorist. It makes a good read if you have a predilection for conspiracy theories. If not, it is a piece of utter nonsense, as it seemed to me. It's just a publicity stunt if anything. Gladly, no major newspaper published this nonsense.
It is all the more surprising when it comes from someone as popular as Maneka Gandhi, who with this stuff, seemed to have assumed the tag of the Supreme Enlightened. Of course, we, governments, scientists, people, are all fools. Leave it to Maneka Gandhi to shine some light into our ignorant minds.
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