Verbal Diarrhoea

Some nice running quotes

2011-02-12T01:32:00.000+05:30

I have started recording my runs on another blog http://42km3hrs.blogspot.com/

I am searching for a good sub-title to plaster on top of the blog.

Some options...

Serious :

Ask yourself: 'Can I give more?'. The answer is usually: 'Yes'.

-Paul Terga

You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement.

- Steve Prefontaine

A runner runs against himself, against the best that's in him. Not against a dead thing of wheels and pulleys. That's the way to be great, running against yourself. Against all the rotten mess in the world. Against God, if you’re good enough.

-Bill Persons

I always loved running... it was something you could do by yourself, and under your own power. You could go in any direction, fast or slow as you wanted, fighting the wind if you felt like it, seeking out new sights just on the strength of your feet and the courage of your lungs.

-Jesse Owens

Racing teaches us to challenge ourselves. It teaches us to push beyond where we thought we could go. It helps us to find out what we are made of. This is what we do. This is what it's all about.

-PattiSue Plumer, U.S. Olympian

Sarcastic :

If God invented marathons to keep people from doing anything more stupid, the triathlon must have taken Him completely by surprise. ~P.Z. Pearce

I believe that the Good Lord gave us a finite number of heartbeats and I'm damned if I'm going to use up mine running up and down a street. ~Neil Armstrong

I don't think jogging is healthy, especially morning jogging. If morning joggers knew how tempting they looked to morning motorists, they would stay home and do sit-ups. ~Rita Rudner

It's unnatural for people to run around the city streets unless they are thieves or victims. It makes people nervous to see someone running. I know that when I see someone running on my street, my instincts tell me to let the dog go after him. ~Mike Royko

The trouble with jogging is that the ice falls out of your glass. ~Martin Mull

Finland has produced so many brilliant distance runners because back home it costs $2.50 a gallon for gas. ~Esa Tikkannen, 1979

Does Microsoft think I am stupid ???

2011-01-08T00:33:00.001+05:30

So I went to About in Chrome and check the current version running on my laptop.

No longer the Apple of my eye

2010-06-14T19:40:00.004+05:30

http://business.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?265709

I have so far never purchased an Apple product. And it will be a long time before I will. Not unless they stop their bullying tactics. I hate bullies you see, and I like my freedom.

Yes, I do own 3 iPods. The first one, a 30 Gb video ipod, was given to my father by his company as part of some Sales conference gift. The second, 4 Gb, iPod Nano, slim and slender, was a gift from some friend or relative, I don't remember which or who. The third iPod, another Nano, but part of the rounded square series, was won by me at an inter-Bschool quiz held by Infosys. And I cannot describe the sheer joy owning these 3 has given me. The sheer beauty and design of the these products, at that time, was unmatched.

Apple products are usually the best looking and best designed. Using them is sheer joy. Simple, elegant, classy. Genius.

So why am I saying that I won't buy Apple products for some time to come ? And why am I blasting Apple ?

For a long long time I used to really admire all Apple products. And I still do for their design. And I love their software as well. But some where down the line, I started disagreeing with their philosophy. 'Think Different' is their motto - how can I when they control all the apps and service providers and software on all their products ?

Lets start with the Macs. I used to always admire their design, those pure white pristine beauties. But, they were always too costly. Now I don't mind paying more for the cost... but then I don't see the point in buying a Mac and running Windows OS on it. And Mac OS, despite being good, is not compatible with so many softwares. But until this point, I had no problems with Apple. In fact, I used to admire them 100%.

I took serious exception to their behaviour with the launch of the iPods. I would have preferred a simple folder system, where I plug the iPod in, copy my songs onto the iPod HD, and voila ! If I want some classification, let it be folder based. Now I understand iTunes offers multiple viewpoints, so you can classify and view songs, by different meta-data labels associated with each song. And maybe it was difficult to implement this system with the PnP, Copy & Paste system. (Though I don't even think they tried.)

But they could have at least allowed me the option of having a Folder system as opposed to the iTunes system. Like Sony. Like Cowon. Like everybody else. But no.. they want to maintain their 'control' and yes, they wanted to make money via iTunes. Fine.

Things got out of hand with the launch of the iPhone. I was gushing over Apple's design technology then. But then, when it was launched, they pulled off a cheap trick. Your phone was 'locked' to one carrier - in the US, AT&T. What the hell ? Why the f*** should have to stick to AT&T ? This is monopolostic behaviour, this is bullying. And whatever reasons they might give, I can't palate them.

So now, for the iPod, I have to buy music, movies and ebooks only from the iTunes store. For the iPhone, and now for the iPad, I can transact and navigate myself only through Apple approved Apps. Go to hell - I ain't buying your products.

Right now also, I am looking to buy a Phone. A smartphone. Either way I wasn't going to buy the iPhone. Firstly, it is way too highly priced in India. Secondly, the idea of being locked to Airtel or Vodafone, makes my blood boil. Thirdly, I am very excited with the Android mOS - and the implications of an open source OS where millions of people can easily contribute awesome apps.

And to my great great delight, I realised I didn't enjoy using the iPhone so much. One app at a time ? No multi-tasking in the iPhone ? Ha ha. Try again. I enjoyed the Sony Ericsson Experia X10 and the Motorola Milestone much much more. I am yet to try the HTC Legend (out of stock) and the HTC Desire (not yet launched in India), but I have seen enough videos and read enough reviews to know how good they are. I haven't yet bought the phone - but it isn't the going to be the Apple iPhone for sure.

2010-06-11T03:18:00.002+05:30

I was about to sleep. I reminded myself that I have to enable currency trading for account tomorrow. Why ? Just like that. Not that I intend to start immediately, but I prefer to keep things 'enabled'. The day I want to do it, I shouldn't have to waste time and energy getting basic things started.

My thoughts drifted to a course I had attended in the Bombay Stock Exchange. One of the courses, introduction to derivatives, was to be taken by a certain Mr. Sanjay Ved. He had a vague resemblance to Mr. Bean, I remember. He was a smart guy and handled the module well. Somewhere in between he started reminiscing about his earlier days, and how he had once been wiped out by in one afternoon during the Harshad Mehta crash. 3-4 years of wealth had been wiped out, he said. He then went on to say how hard it was to acquire knowledge then. In a bid to get back on track and make some income somehow, he got into currency trading. He contacted experts worldwide, via snail mail ofcourse, asking for tips and advice. Slowly but surely he built his expertise in currency trading. Today, he said, he taught out of passion. His main income was from currency trading - 3-4 hours everyday.

That led me to think - in every transaction, when somebody loses, somebody also gains. When I was small, I used to always wonder, if so many people lost so much money, there must surely have been somebody who gained. Why then does the world cry so much ?

Today I realise what happens. In the Harshad Mehta case, for example, he wasn't playing with his money in the first place. In the second place, he was only pocketing most of the money, since he was controlling the markets to a great extent. As the stock markets rose, people kept entering and exiting, making profits for a good 3-4 sweet years. When the markets crashed, the investors, traders, speculators lost money. Now, who gained ? Well no one really. Rather, Harshad Mehta, his brothers and similar such people had already gained - as in, spent away the money. They were making false profits, and having enjoyed the returns, they disappeared from the scene, many behind bars.

All the other market participants, including many brokers, lost. Who else ? The innocent depositors whose money he had been playing with in the first place.

Or take the sub-prime crisis.

As I have said before, by the very principle of exchange, whenever somebody makes a huge loss, somebody else has made a windfall profit. in most scams or Ponzi schemes, it is outright apparent as to who has gained or who has lost. However,In many crises and crashes, when it appears that everybody has made a loss, it is just that the windfall profit has been chronologically displaced.

In the sub-prime crisis, first the initial set of losers came to the fore. Then there was a second wave in which many other victims slowly but surely washed to the surface. Many other bobbed up much later on. Initial not many winners were apparent. All the bank and ibanks were apparently in dire straits.

Then it was discovered that almost all the traders and i-bankers had made a lot of income and encashed obscene bonuses in the run-up to the crisis. But that itself wouldn't be able to balance out all the losses. The majority of 'winners' were all the real estate agents, subprime house owners and the American consumers - who had enjoyed for a long time - living beyond their means in a credit driven consumer economy. Ofcourse they enjoyed first and paid for it later.

Random Ramblings

2010-05-20T00:09:00.003+05:30

The photo caption on the IHT reads "Government forces arrested protesters."

"Forces the arrested prisoners to do what ??", I idly wondered. Then I shook my head.

This sentence can be interpreted in two ways.

As the past tense of "Government forces arrest protesters." or as the present tense of "Government forced arrested protesters."

Of course, IHT meant the former.

Did you know ?

2009-07-12T01:41:00.004+05:30

Most people underestimate beer.

Not in the area of providing enjoyment of course,

Beer has always been accepted as the 'coolest' drink... and beer is a great way to bond with the dudes, and to become 'cool' quickly. I would like to quote a great expert on the various forms and brands, desi and otherwise, of alcohol..... the esteemed GG. If he gets to know that a particular guy does not like beer, he has only one thing to say... "Pussy." While in France, if at all I used to feel insecure while partying with the crazy all-night-long-drinking-drinking-and-more-drinking Germans, I would automatically say, "Yo ! I wanna attend Oktoberfest man ! J'aime la biere !".

but in the area of providing the high.

You see.. most people think that only the hard drinks.. whisky, vodka, the rest.. can get you really drunk. I thought so too myself. Until of course GG, when we recently met up in France, started exhibitting strange behaviour. The Arab and me were all for a bottle of Red Label. GG went for 3 500 ml cans of strong beer. We were like... "Pussy."

Yet, since that day, many a nice beer party later, I can say with confidence, that beer provides you a nice sustained party high like no other.

Mathematical Proof :

Strong Beer = 8% of alcohol
Whisky = 40% of alcohol

3 cans of 500 ml each = 1500 ml
8% * 1500 = 120 ml of pure alcohol

5 large (60 ml) pegs of whisky
40% * 300 = 120 ml of pure alcohol

Which means 3 cans of strong beer is equivalent to drinking 5 large pegs of whisky or any other hard drink of comparable alcohol content. QED.

Some more vishesh tippaniya and khas mentions

2009-02-04T03:43:00.002+05:30

Paris is a really beautiful and romantic city.
The toilets in McDonalds are cleaner than the ones in Quick.
If you don't wear gloves, your hands will freeze. You won't be able to move ur hands or feel anything, and unfreezing them is a painful process.
Wear an iPod all the time - it makes you look like a decent tourist. Usually when I request people to take my photo, they always oblige. Today, for some time, I had removed my earphones. I requested this lady to take my photo. She shooed me away, thinking I was a con artist or a beggar ! I put my earphones on in a jiffy. Voila ! I had people queuing to take a photo for me.
Paris is a really beautiful and romantic city.
And, I forgot to mention this yesterday, you have to take a look at the UCB window on Champs-Elysees.

Some arbit comments

2009-02-03T06:23:00.003+05:30

I came to France on the 5th of Jan. Some observations and tippanis.

Whenever I go to any place in France, it snows !
If you desperately need to sit on Champs-Elysees, munch on some bananas, give rest to your shoulders and legs, (free of charge), when it is raining, then there is a wonderful place very close to the Place de la Concorde end.
If you desperately need to pee while on Champs-Elysees, there are Quick restaurants near the Arc the Triumphe end, where you can unobtrusively enter, pee, not buy anything, keep your dignity, and walk out.
People are very understanding in Paris about your need to take photos, will graciously take as many photos as you ask them too. This lady obliged me by squatting in a most undignified position and taking a wonderful photo of me and Gustav's baby.
There are a lot of con artists hovering around Arc the Triumphe. I successfully saw through 2 con attacks within the space of 5 mins while I was strolling around Champs-Elysees. Remind me to tell you about the golden ring and 3000 euro suit.
There are infi varieties of wine and cheese, and I'm loving it !
Don't drink pastis, it tastes like 'badishep' or aftermint.
And yes, the girls in France are gorgeous.

Bon Soir

2009-01-15T22:32:00.001+05:30

I know, I know. Photos, posts, etc, all due from my side. Patience fellas. I've got loads of stuff to put up. A few more days is all I ask.

'Fulldozing'

2009-01-03T20:14:00.000+05:30

This was my submission for the course mentioned in the previous post.

3 Ways to get away with Fulldozing !

(From the author of ‘The Great IIFTian Dream’ and ‘Count your Sheep in every Batch’)

Every class of students has its fair share of fulldozers. Fulldozers are those students who manage to doze off in class under the full glare of the teacher. In this article, I would like to elaborate on the various types of fulldozers that I have observed over a month and a half in IIFT. The aim, of course, is to observe and learn. The art of sleeping is not a very esoteric art – with a little guidance and a lot of self-motivation, it is but a blink of an eyelid away. So, without further ado, here goes.

The Frontline Psuedo-readers

These people have been unfortunate enough to get a seat in the front rows where there’s apparently no escape. Apparently. First invented by Pannie and later successfully copied by many others, this style makes extensive use of a rigid contortion of your forearm. You tilt your neck inwards as if you were reading your textbook, and you rest your head on the palm. Once your head is comfortably ensconced in the soft comfort of your palm, and you are sure that it will not slip, you can rest those droopy eyelids and let yourself be seduced by one of nature’s greatest pleasures. Be warned though, this is not for the light-handed, coz once slip and you will end up headbanging to a totally different tune.

The Spectaculars

These people are the ones blessed with glasses. The teacher’s penetrating glare is rendered ineffective due to one of nature’s most common phenomenons – reflection. Whether the student chooses to keep his eyes open or shut is his decision. Behind the safe shield of the glasses, even the most diligent of students are transported into a world of their own. There is only one catch – your body language, posture and facial muscles should radiate rapt attentiveness. IIFTians’s are quick learners, they think on their feet and also off their feet. My observations indicated that within a week’s time, this art had been mastered to dizzying depths of somnolence.

The Improbables

These people have no special talents. They are jacks of no trade and masters of none. However, by virtue of having cornered a corner seat, they have the odds in their favour. A quick statistical analysis of the angles of rotation of the teacher’s neck enlightens one to the fact that the teacher seldom looks constantly at the extreme sides of the class. The mean, median and mode are all 0 degrees. The students also take into consideration another useful piece of info – their degree of sleepiness also varies between the states ‘awake’ and ‘asleep’. Hence, the weighted probability of the teacher catching these students asleep is really low. Thus, these students take their chance and doze off in a trance.

With this, I conclude my short discourse. Many thanks to my classmates for their continuing support and relentless perseverance. Without their courage and innovativeness, this research article would not have been possible.

Guest : Gaurav Gujral

2009-01-03T20:11:00.002+05:30

We had to submit an article as part of course work for Business Communication in our first trimester. This was what Gaurav came up with. I think it is a masterpiece.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ROOM NO. 46

The alarm goes off at 7.30 am. The gentle giant is supposed to wake up first and take a 30- minute- shower. But guess whose early morning dreams are shattered by the alarm? Mine! I shout out – “Turn off the alarm, o gentle giant!!” and go back to sleep.

Cut to 6 hours later… 1.30 pm…

Students file out of the class. I hear a voice calling out my name- “Gaurav.. Gaurav… I don’t think we’ll like the food in the mess. Let’s go out and eat.” Seconding his opinion is my 2^nd roommate who, for obvious reasons, will be referred to as the ‘mimic’ in this piece of writing. I, the non-controversial person that I am, agree. After a wholesome and fulfilling lunch of 10 scrambled eggs (only for the giant), dal, paneer and paranthas, we rush off to class at 2.15 pm.

Cut to 5 hrs later… 7.15 pm…

The inhabitants of room no. 46 are trying to study in peace and serenity. Suddenly, the mimic recalls an incident, gets up from his bed and mimics the hell out of each and every person he has met during the day. Hilarious!! After a brief roll on the floor and with a hurting stomach, we get up to get back to studying. The calm lasts for only 2 minutes, broken this time by the sheer ‘lack of noise’ of Mozart’s symphonies, courtesy the giant. “God, what has the world come to?” I ask in terror. Rock fans reading this will sympathize with me. To go from the deafening drum beats of Megadeth to the sinfully noiseless violins of Mozart is an experience I pray none of my rock-loving friends ever go through.

Soon its dinner time and I hear a familiar suggestion - “Gaurav.. Gaurav… I don’t think we’ll like the food in the mess. Let’s go out and eat.” After a wholesome and fulfilling dinner of 10 scrambled eggs (only for the giant), dal, paneer and paranthas (the queer similarity of the last few lines to the lines in 2^nd paragraph is purely deliberate, just to emphasize the frequency with which this incident occurs), we head off to have ice-cream. Everything is fine until the giant asks for a Walls Kulfi from the Cream-Bell vendor. Another round of rolling in the ‘hay’ follows (for the uninitiated, ‘hay’ is the single most frequently uttered word by the giant and can be substituted for any word in the English language, eg. I don’t like the ‘hay’ we get in the mess. We should go to a really expensive place and have ‘hay’ there).

Back in room no. 46, the satisfied giant sets an alarm for 10 minutes and dozes off. His uncanny ability to go into deep slumber as soon as he closes his eyes manifests itself soon enough. The alarm is ringing at full volume, the mimic and I are shouting at the top of our voices but alas, no response from the giant. After a minute of shouting, he finally turns in his bed, sets another alarm for 10 minutes and dozes off. No points for guessing the situation after another 10 minutes – we need to bring in inhabitants of other rooms as well.

Cut to 4 hours later.. 2 am..

I am planning to go off to sleep when I see the giant getting up. Yes, his 10 minutes had extended to 4 hours. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wake him up this time. I hope to catch up on my sleep now, wishing to wake up to the sound of my alarm rather than the one which sounds at 7.30 am. Another day in the life of room no. 46 beckons.

Gaurav Gujral

----

No points for guessing who the gentle giant is.

An update from my side

2008-12-28T02:51:00.004+05:30

An update from my side has long been due. Thoughts, clauses, sentences .. are coming to my mind in random fashion, so I'll try to put them in chronological order, and without further ado.. start shooting.

29th June, we set off from CST (Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, previously known as VT or Victoria Terminus, which got caught up in the renaming frenzy some years back. The airports in Bombay, incidentally, are also named after Chhatrapati Shivaji. And btw, we are soon gonna have Mumbai Dyeing on the MSE... the Mumbai Stock Exchange. I digress too much).

As I said before, we boarded the Rajdhani on the afternoon of the 29th. For fun, we decided to travel by first class. We got a four bed coupe all to ourselves.. and it was fun ! The food was par excellence, and playing cards with nice music in the background was an awesome experience. 30th we reached Delhi. Amidst bustling traffic and scaring looking touts, we made our way to some arbit taxi, who took us to NSCI Delhi, where my parents had booked rooms. After a quick shower, we headed straight to IIFT.

We had gone for a holiday to Dehra Dun and Mussoorie just a week before this, and had stopped over at Delhi for a couple of days. During that time, we had come to IIFT to take a first peek. So we knew the road, more or less.

At IIFT, I got my room almost immediately. One of my roomies had in fact already come, dumped his luggage, booked his bed and gone away. My parents helped me with my luggage. My mom also helped me in dusting the mattress and setting up my bed, and in dusting up the place too. Then they bid their dear son adieu while he vowed to conquer academics like never before.

Fine then. Both my roomies arrived the next day. I must mention that I have been very very lucky to have had excellent roomies. We keep saying this to each other. Having high compatibility with your roomies can be the difference between heaven and hell. One was.. is a Delhiite. Gaurav Gujral. The other's a bong, who doesn't look like a bong and keeps other bongs at arm's length. Dwij Chatterjee. Righto.

Classes began almost immediately. From the 2nd of July, to be precise. Scary shit. We were given huge tomes for each of the 9 subjects that we had. A rigid packed schedule for the entire week ahead of us. Classes on the weekend. Clubs activities, guest sessions, arbit tutorials. As I said before, scary shit. And yes, 2 hour lectures. I used to find the 1 hour classes at NIT Calicut unbearable. But I had gone there with a lot of psyching up. I decided to take it all in my stride. Waise bhi, there wasn't any option !

The first two to three weeks were really hectic. I had been told by umpteen number of people that during your MBA, you sleep for only about 4 hrs on an average. And I must say, for the first 2 weeks I did that. However, where there is a will there is a way. And I willed that I should sleep for at least 8 hrs. And I got my way. I soon found out that all this was bunkum, and that one could sleep the full quota of 8 hrs if one made certain minimal sacrifices. What these sacrifices are I shall explain in full detail once I finish my MBA.

Ah yes. There was this inter-section basketball game organised by one enthusiastic basketball player. I am 6'4", and I know a little bit of basketball. So it was but natural that I should go and take part in this game. I did... and I began well. I got possession of the ball for my side during the jumpball (?). I was tackling decently and defending even better. Not bad. Then at some point, I jumped high to get the ball and landed with my foot in an obverse possession. Excruciating pain. I got up and hobbled around a little. Saw that I could still run, and continued playing in the heat of the moment. We won, the game got over. Immediately I realised how much my foot was paining. I painstakingly hobbled back to my room and saw my foot. Fully swollen. The x-ray the next day confirmed that I had indeed broken the fifth meta-tarsal of my left foot. And I was in this gruelling MBA course. With a lot of help from my 3 friends.. (Did I mention that Diksha, Dr. Diksha, is part of the gang ? She joined our 'group' some time during this time) and a little bit of help from many others, I managed. Waise, this fracture is among the least bothering ones. I didn't need a plaster cast. I could in fact walk about slowly without crutches too... with an ankle brace providing the necessary support. However, to prevent strain, I did get crutches soon. It took me a little more than 6 weeks to get back to normal walking.

I took part in some quizzes during this first trisemester, the highlight being coming third in the regional round of BT Acumen. The trisem was over quite soon. I went back to Bombay on the 20th of September. Ah yes, just a week before the trisem got over, I got selected for an exchange program to Grenoble, France. This was among the few extended programs which spilled over into April and May of the next year. So, I had to opt out of summers, which I wasn't very keen on in any case. Which also meant that I got an extended mid-sem break.. others had to report to college on the 26th of Sep.. I coolly came on the 9th of October. My roomies and my quiz partner Praveen, all of us applied for the extended exchange program. In between, I went down to Infosys campus, Electronic City, Bangalore along with Praveen and came second in the national quiz competition held by Infy. We won a Cybershot each for our efforts !

The second trisem which concluded recently on the 20th of Dec, was of an even shorter duration. The highlights of this trisem were running around for my Grenoble application, learning a decent amount of French, getting back to jogging, eating out almost every other day, learning the art of appreciating whisky, and some other arbit things. I also celebrated my birthday at the beginning of this month.

During my 6 months at Delhi, I've got to know quite a bit of Delhi roads. Gaurav has a car, and he's taken us around quite a bit. I have also become familiar with the north indian culture to a significant degree. Right now I am at Pune, attending a plethora of marriage functions. I'm leaving for France on the 5th of Jan. I've completed a large part of the shopping, but some things remain. The major issue would be that of packing, 20 kg being my check in luggage limit.

The next 5 and a half months or so shall be in France.. Au revoir !

Fauja Singh : 89 :: Dhruv Chandras : ?

2008-08-25T00:22:00.005+05:30

Too many vows made... only a few of them kept.

I will run a half marathon in two years and a marathon three years from now. I state so publicly so that I may be held accountable.

How I Love This Place Now - HSH

2008-08-24T01:17:00.001+05:30

BT Acumen 2008

2008-08-24T00:01:00.004+05:30

The north-zone round of BT Acumen 08 got over today. IIFT put up a decent show. We won the debate and came third in the quiz.

Praveen and I were representing IIFT in the quiz. We fell short of the first place by a margin of 10 points (at 55, we were just one correct question away). We got off to a slow start and tho' we caught up later on, the initial gap made a difference in the end. I thought all teams were good, and as such, it was a well fought quiz. IIML and FMS were tied at 65, and finally IIML went thru because FMS hit the buzzer and missed.

Sad, considering that we had done quite well for ourselves in the prelims. Sadder still, coz had we won we would have made a clean sweep, and also had the chance to accompany Anchal and Rahul to Bombay for the National Finals. (Anchal had already reached the national finals last year with Arka, who was the winner the year before that. Let's hope he keeps the tradition alive.)

After we lost, my same-name loomie scrapped me this today...

ecclesiastes 9:11
"I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and chance happens to them all."

Incidentally

2008-08-17T21:36:00.003+05:30

Popular School Legends

2008-08-17T21:34:00.000+05:30

I suppose every school has some teacher who makes absent minded mistakes leading to funny sentences. These funny sentences are quoted around and soon other funny sentences are also attributed to the concerned teacher. This is how school legends are made, and we get a huge list of extremely funny sentences apparently originating from this famous leader, when in fact, only one or two might actually be his/hers.

We had a teacher in school who used to teach us drawing, and sometimes Hindi as well. This is how the legend went.

Once while she was taking attendence, she ordered, "Absent boys raise your hands !". Another time, while teaching geometric shapes, she shouted, "Now draw a straight circle !" On a particularly stuffy day, when we students had forgotten to open the windows, she announced, "Boys, you should not be sitting in such conditions. Open the air and let the windows come in !". Then while telling us about her family, "I have two daughters, and both are girls !". I know for fact that she had only one child, and that too a son. (I had once met them at the railway station, a couple of years after I passed out from school, and we had chatted for some time.)

A little while ago I mentioned a few of these witticisms to my room-mate, and he claimed that his school too had a teacher to whom some of the very same quotes were attributed. He had one priceless gem to the above list. "Children, the scooter is under standing the tree !".

I will end this post with the only quote of this teacher which I have heard first hand. She was a pretty lenient teacher, but she used to loath squabbling children, and used to make such students go and stand outside the class. At least once in every class she used utter her trademark utterance, namely, "If any complaint and both will get punishment !".

I now have a face . . . . .

2008-05-16T02:55:00.003+05:30

I forgot to mention this.. a few days back I added my profile pic. On some arbitrary evening, while all of us corridor mates at E hostel, NITC, were standing and gappa-maroafying (chatting), my neighbour and ex-roomie Harsha snapped an impromptu pic of me and another mate Shreyas discussing something. I don't remember what we were discussing, but through some involuntary contortion of my facial muscles, and just for that split-second, my face managed that expression which I believe seems to show that I am thinking, that there is some intelligence in my eyes.. god, it even makes me look vaguely philosophical. Naturally, I chose that pic.

How Money Works

2008-05-16T02:37:00.003+05:30

For many days I was considering starting a blog on a passion of mine - money. I want to understand everything that I can wrt to 'money'. The exact flow of money starting from the printing bureau to the central bank to the commercial banks to the people to the government and, in some part, back to the central bank. The impact of all the weird press notes emanating from the central banks. The various money making instruments and avenues. The stock market. F&O. Economics. And all the interesting theories that are part and parcel of it. The dealings in the corporate world and the science behind it. The effect of international relations. Trade and it's trade-offs. Forex. There's so much.

Not that I am ever gonna be able to know everything. And maybe, I might now benefit as such (in short, financially) from many of the things I put in so much effort to know. But that's what you call passion right ? Anyway, this new blog will be more like a diary mentioning all the books and articles I read, and the ideas I come across in my 'quest'.

The blog address is how--money--works.blogspot.com. Do check it out !

I passed my B.Tech

2008-05-12T01:31:00.007+05:30

Yeah, that's right. The S8 results have come out, and I am officially an engineer. I am now Dhruv Chandras, B.Tech, CSE. Ha !

CSE stands for Computer Science and Engineering. B.Tech for Bachelor of Technology - a more fundoo sounding version of your regular BE. Instead of being plain engineers, we are now technocrats. A few years later, we will have B.Inno and B.Entre degrees.. (For innovators and entrepreneurs..)

I don't know why so many people today do engineering.

Actually, I do.

You see, it is a very respectable degree to have. From the earliest times, engineers were respected for their logical brains and innovative capabilities. They were the people who actually made things that you and me used. Houses, cars, appliances, etc. In my grand-dad's era, an engineering degree was sufficient to make one's way to the top of the organisation. (Well, it was sufficient for him !)

Also, for someone from a middle class background, it fills some solid bricks in the wall of your resume.

In 4 years, you learn stuff that you would probably never ever use again in your life. I want to do an MBA. Most engineers want to do an MBA. And even those who pursue MS degrees rarely end up applying what they learnt for 6 years. But then, the BE/BTech is the stepping stone to that coveted MS / MBA degree, which in turn is a gateway to lucrative career options, mainly in the upper echelons of management. If you look at all the management schools today, they are clogged with engineers. (Mind you, the directors of all these b-schools have tried to remedy this to diversify the intake, and they have tried hard. Short of setting quotas, they have done everything else. The percentage of engineers in the batch has remained unchanged ! Shows how many desperate engineers are out there trying make their BE/BTech worthwhile by capping it off with an MBA !)

I remember my school days. If you were among the top 10, then medicine or engineering was THE way for you. At least that's what you were told. If you were even decently good at studies, you were pushed into engineering. Most 10th standard board merit rankers used to take PCMB (i.e. Physics, Chemistry, Maths And Biology). Why - I asked a friend who had come in the SSC Top 50. To keep my options open, he said. Meaning, medicine ya engineering. He ended up an engineer, or to be more precise, a technocrat. I remember how shocked everyone was when one of our school toppers, Rahul Daga, choose to do commerce. He was very focussed though, and ended up topping his insti.

So, from the learning and application point of view, it is a totally useless degree to have. And most "engineers" will agree with me. But, as I said before, from the overall perspective, it is a pretty good, and SAFE degree to have. Besides the aforementioned points of a) being respectable b) being a good resume-filler c) being a passport to a good life, the BE/BTech degree has some more good things to offer.

For example, the 4 years of my B.Tech life provided me with innumerable opportunities for personality development, expansion of the mind and exposure to various people, cultures and situations. It gave time to think and to find out what I wanted to do in life. It toughened me up and gave me a chance to be more independent. Without doubt, I learnt a lot of stuff (mostly non-academic!!).

Thus the degree has been a great 'filler'. However, I would like to add that a large chunk of the benefits I mentioned in the previous para were possible only due to living a hostel life in a strange land, with students representing practically every part of India.

If, before you select your under-grad course, you know exactly what you want to do, then pursue that in a very specific way. Don't waste your time doing engineering. If however, you don't know what you want to do, or want to give yourself more time, then pursue an engineering degree by all means. However, do try to do it from an IIT/NIT/any other prestigious univ with a vibrant hostel life. It makes all the difference in the world.

What started out on a satirical note became a little preachy-sermonish in between, and ended on a slightly senti note ! The joyride/ordeal of B.Tech is over. Amen. Anyway, expect a lot more posts revolving around the B.Tech theme in the next few weeks. I have a lot of ideas... !

! Re@!!y |-|@te t|-|0$e !@#$%^&*

2008-05-11T10:48:00.002+05:30

I hate it when these people change their names on orkut, either to some silly sentence, or to hacker font. It's impossible to search for such guys when you want to scrap them, and it's very tough to find out who they are if they scrap you.

It certainly Wofs

2008-05-05T22:13:00.003+05:30

Every now and then, I come across some really good site.. which I madly go through for a couple of days. The latest is itwofs.com.

I love bollywood music, both old and new. Ever since I heard Mama Mia, and then heard Mil Gaya, Hum Ko Saathi Mil Gaya, and realised that it was a straight rip off, I have always been curious to know how many more of our tunes are copies.

Itwofs.com, pronounced as "I two Ef Es", (Inspirations for Indian Film Songs), is a site dedicated to not only digging up such keede, but also providing the .rm clips of both versions. See for yourselves how haraamkhor our music directors are, is their motto.

Do go through it.

B.Tech NIT Calicut (01) - The Initiation

2008-04-06T01:39:00.007+05:30

Most of us still vividly remember our first few days out here. Barring maybe a couple of exceptions, nobody had stayed in a hostel before. So, there was a lot of curiosity, apprehension as well as excitement among the 300 odd new inmates of the hostel. You could sense it in the air. It was tangible.

There was a lot of paperwork to be done before you were allotted your room. You also had to buy some essential items from the in-hostel co-operative store. 1 Kurl-on mattress (the pillow came free), 1bucket with a cover, 1 mug, 1 soap case, 2 ropes, 1 mirror, 1 broom, 1 dust-pan, 1 dust-bin, 5 hangars, 10 clips - these were the items I bought. I had purchased all toiletries beforehand.

I was quite pleased when I saw the room - it was pretty spacious and very airy. 3 parallel beds, 3 study tables with drawers, one beside each bed, and 3 cupboards. And yes, 3 metallic chairs. 3 students per room. When I entered the room, one plump stocky curly haired bespectacled boy was sitting on the middle bed with his father. Over his head, I saw a rope strung, with colourful faded boxers fluttering under the fan. The bed farthest from the door had apparently been booked too - there was a Kurl-on on it. The first bed was mine then.

We exchanged the Hi's and Hello's.... he was Maharashtrian too. We got acquainted. Started talking. His name was Amit - and he was speaking in a monotone. Reeling statistics after statistics. NITs and their rankings... which JEE rank would translate to which branch in which IIT... which AIEEE rank would get you X branch in Y NIT... what were the placements of NIT Calicut.. what were the quotas for each state... and then some more arbitrary statistics. I was speechless.

All the students didn't come at once. It was a trickle that started around a week before the commencement date, which soon become a flood a day before commencement. That day was a Sunday. I kept meeting new people and made a lot of new acquaintances. I had a little problem in the first week - it was hard to penetrate that Malayali accent. I should say those, because there were atleast 3 different accents. Non-mallus weren't the only people who had an issue with the accents. My other roomie, Koshy, confessed that in the first few days he couldn't understand the Malayam spoken by some of the other Mallus. I also had problems with the Hindi spoken by the UPites and the B-boys. The Kolkata hindi was fine, except that they used 'hum' instead of 'main'.

In the days when NIT was REC, especially in the 90s, the scenario as far as ragging was concerned was pretty bad. Apparently the first years used to be subjected to pretty brutal and humiliating stuff, and the occasional police intervention was not uncommon. To ensure safety of the first years, they were all cooped into one hostel, with a guard at the single entrance. The ragging wasn't that bad now, but the system continued. A-hostel was the fortress of the campus, that safe haven were you could roam about without worrying that some senior would come and start threatening you. You could go out only for 3 purposes - attending lectures, getting a haircut and paying your monthly hostel and mess dues.

We settled down. Formed groups. They soon got realigned along state lines as the seniors got in touch with us and started the ragging. But that's another story. Lectures were a let down. I sat on the first bench the first day. Wednesday. By Friday I was on the last bench - a backbencher... and I have remained one for the rest of my B.Tech life.

IIFT Delhi, here I come . . .

2008-03-18T00:03:00.006+05:30

On March 11th, I got this sms from Pagalguy, saying that the much awaited IIFT results were finally out. I went to the IIFT site and checked the pdf which had the list of names of students selected for the Delhi campus. The pdf took a painfully long time to open. I keyed in "Dhruv" into the search box at the top. Go. Against a clean white background, in a black coloured font, I saw the 3 words - "Dhruv Kiran Chandras".

My B.Tech at NIT Calicut will be over in about 2 months - I should be back in Bombay by 2nd May. Now that the entire MBA saga is over, I think I will be able to get back to blogging regularly. Well then, lets see.

Of books, covers and faces . . .

2007-08-07T00:06:00.000+05:30

What do you do when you have been blessed with a face that looks sleepy all the time, irrespective of how fresh your mind really is ?

Most people have a basic look which their face conforms too, when the facial muscles are relaxed. Some look like Atlas who has not been able to shrug for quite some time. Some look like walking and talking posters of Happy Dent. There are others who seem as if they are afflicted by Bell's palsy. And I have a friend who looks like an angry convict most of the time. I however, look sleepy.

I wasn't always in this category. But, I guess, over time muscles take the shape of whatever you do for the most part during the time you are awake. Since I have completed three years in engineering, I have spent a majority of the time I was not sleeping in bed sitting in class in a stupor. I have evolved. My face having realised that it would have to look sleepy for around 6 hours a day, as compared to maybe 3 hours thoughful, 2.5 hours anxious, 1.45 hours pissed,.... and so on, decided to minimise its workload. And thus, as I said before, I have evolved. Pretty fast, eh ? Had Darwin been my teacher, I would surely have scored an 'S'.

The disadvantages are apparent, but there are some advantages too. For example, warding off unwanted people who want to forcibly enter your room and waste your time. I can, very conveniently, "have just woken up.. Come in, won't you.. ", or contrarily, "be going to bed. Please come some time later.. ".

What face do you have ?

Yaawn

2007-07-16T15:23:00.001+05:30

I'm in a very bored frame of mind right now. All because it is 3.24 pm in the afternoon. To me, the afternoon is the dullest time of the day. The morning brings along with it a freshness, and that nice feeling (unless of course you have knowledge of some impending doom) about a brand new day. And of course, there's breakfast time. Similarly, noon is the next stop for the stomach. Evening's can be pretty pleasant, and to me, the night is the most exciting part, that time of the day when my brain works at its peak. Afternoons I hate the most.

Just so that I should not fall asleep, I am plodding with my fingers through this post, wondering what I should write. Well, the idea came to me to write about the songs that I like the most - songs that I can hear again and again. Songs, where the holy troika of music, voice and lyrics come together in a perfect blend. Such songs are rare creations, and a band is lucky if it is able to create such a song even once in its career.

Off the top of my head and the tip of my tongue, here goes -

Iris - Goo Goo Dolls

The Reason - Hoobastank

Imagine - John Lennon

Baba O'Riley - The Who

Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd

Californication - RHCP

King of Pain, Every Breath You Take - The Police

We're Not Gonna Take It - Twisted Sister

I Wanna Break Free, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Radio Ga Ga, Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen

Tub Thumping - Chumba Wumba

Karma Chameleon - Boy George / Culture Club

Jump - Van Halen

American Pie - Don McLean

Summer of '69 - Bryan Adams

It's My Life, Living in Sin, You Give Love a Bad Name - Bon Jovi

Wake Me Up Before You Go Go - Wham

Safety Dance - Men Without Hats

Islands in the Stream - Dolly Parton / Kenny Rogers

Never Say Die - Cliff Richard

Stay, Just a Little Bit Longer - George & Co. ('83)

Saw Theme, POTC Theme

I'm Shipping of to Boston - Dropkick Murphy (The Departed OST)

The Godfather love theme - Speak Softly ..

Footloose - Kenny Loggins

Baby, I'd Love You to Want Me - Lobo

I Just Called to Say I Love You - Stevie Wonder

Aerials - System of a Down

Angel, It Wasn't Me - Shaggy

Livin a La Vida Loca - Ricky Martin

Hip's Don't Lie - Shakira

A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton

November Rain, Sweet Child of Mine - Guns N Roses

Porcelain - Moby

Gloria - Laura Branigan

Summer Nights - John Travolta / Olivia Newton-John

Bang Your Head - Quiet Riot

Sacrifice - Elton John

Truly Madly Deeply - Savage Garden

Dancing in the Dark - Bruce Springsteen

Explanatory Note

2007-07-14T22:32:00.000+05:30

The previous four posts were written at various times as mentioned within the post (at the end). For lack of an internet connection in my hostel room (the server hasn't been installed yet, though the LAN is up), I had no choice but to submit to my posting impulse and type into a Word doc. Expect more such posts posted at impossibly close times, with a footnote specifying the actually time and date of the creation of the post.

Portable Hard Disks – mmmmwwwaahh !

2007-07-14T22:31:00.000+05:30

Just thought of giving all you people who intend to buy large portable hard disks some advice.

You have two options.

Buy a regular SATA/ATA hard disk, and enclose it in a casing that protects it from dust and basic damage, and also attaches an IDE-to-USB convertor to the hard disk, thus adding that crucial ‘ease-of-data-transfer’ feature. This option is cheaper, and you can buy HDs of humongous capacity, and carry them around. The disadvantage is that since this HD is really a normal HD enclosed in a casing, it is not really ‘portable’. Yes, you can carry it around. But you will need an extra power source, and the chances of the HD getting corrupted over time, especially if subjected to jerks while on power, are really high. For example, at the beginning of this year, I purchased a 232 GB (standard 250 GB) Seagate SATA HD for Rs. 3900. I also purchased a Transcend casing for 1600 bucks. (This is among the higher end ones – you can get a cheaper Chinese equivalent for around 600 bucks.) Thus I got a pseudo-portable 232 GB HD for Rs. 5500. In mid-2005, I had purchased another such HD + casing, for 2900 + 700 = 3600 bucks. Such HDs are very useful for people who have access to lot of data (movies, sitcoms, music, e-books, software, etc.).

The second option, obviously, is to go for an actually portable HD (let me call it pHD), which is of the same type of the HDs used in laptops. These pHDs do not require any extra power as they source their power from the USB port. You can carry these pHDs in you pockets, thus taking all your data with you, without worrying too much about the pHD getting corrupted. Until recently, these didn’t come cheap – what with an 80 GB Toshiba pHD costing Rs. 4000+. However, just last month, a friend of mine managed to buy such a pHD of size of 120 GB at a meager (by pHD standards) Rs. 3000. How cool is that ! Ofcourse, this was in Singapore, but if you do know someone who is going there, this is what you should be telling that person to buy. This implies that two 120 Gb pHDs (= 240 Gb) will cost just Rs. 6000, a wee Rs. 500 more than Rs. 5500 I paid 4 months back for a HD of the same size which wasn’t really portable, which was as heavy as big book and which required external power.

My next HD purchase, which won’t be until atleast 2-3 years later, is definitely going to be a large capacity pHD. I have a feeling that I might just be able to afford it then !

Posted @ 11.05 pm, July 05, 2007

The Fatal Inversion

2007-07-14T22:30:00.000+05:30

Just now, as I was walking along the corridor outside my room, towards the bathroom area in my hostel, I saw one of those creepy-crawly insects crawling on the floor towards me. It could have gone into my room, so I raised my leg, and flicked it away with the sole of my slippers in one football-kick style swing. The insect got thrown around 2-3 metres away, and in the process landed on its back. As I passed it, I could see that it was desperately trying to turn itself, all its legs flailing wildly in the air in a futile attempt to get back on its feet. I thought nothing about it, and proceeded to go and brush my teeth. Around 15 minutes later, as I was on my way back, I saw a lot of ants on the floor surrounding that same insect. Basically, they were taking apart that insect. I don’t why, but I suddenly felt very sorry for that insect. I mean, on most other day’s, I wouldn’t have cared a rat’s hind as to what happened to it, and I would certainly have crushed it to death had it dared to enter my room. But just now, I was in a benevolent mood, feeling nothing but love for all fellow creatures, and the thought that this great creature, who otherwise was stronger than the ants, and could probably outrun, crush or eat them, had been eaten alive just because I had flipped it over onto its back, somehow made me sad. I guess it was a combination of the rainy weather, and the choral sounds I was hearing in the background which were being played by a boy practicing on his synthesizer for the Sunday choir. For want of a softer back, the life of the insect was lost ! Amen.

Posted @ 10.45 pm, July 05, 2007

Confessions of a Gluttonous Mind

2007-07-14T22:29:00.001+05:30

I got the idea for this post when a friend of mine, who had not dined with me much, happened to glance over the amount of food I was blasting my way through. (I was bulldozing my way through a pile of Atta Parathas and Gobi Manchurian and Butter Paneer Masala - this btw, is about one-third of the menu offered at our NIT Canteen.)

A : “What ! You mean to say that you have ordered all this food and you intend to polish it all off in the next few minutes ?”
I : “Well, yes. C’mon, look at my size, I need to eat this much.”
A : “Still… tell me how many pizza slices can finish off in one sitting ?”
I : “You mean, how many pizzas, don’t you ? Let’s see, just last week, before I came to college, I was feeling hungry at around 3.30 in the afternoon. I’d had a pretty sumptuous lunch, but you know how it is with this rainy weather - makes you really hungry. So I ordered and ate all by myself two medium size pizzas. Smoking Joe’s, I think.”
A : (with dilated pupils) “!?”
I : “Anyway, the answer to your question would be, 2 x-large pizzas. Quite easily, provided the weather is right. Hot weather just kills my apetite.”
A : “!?” (Then starts laughing loudly.) “Man ! You must be spending at least 4 times as much on food as I do. Man !”

That’s probably true. Still nowadays, especially over the last year, I’ve really put tabs on my food intake. I have to – I don’t want to end up like Adnan Sami, nor do I want juvenile diabetes and a premature cardiac arrest. So, you can imagine my dietary spendings during my ‘growing-up’ years. Reminds me of that article I read which mentioned that Elvis’s daily intake of calories in the last few years before he died matched that of an adult African elephant !

I used to finish off 13 gulab jamuns in about 2 minutes flat in my mess; now I avoid gulab jamun altogether. I used to be able to eat a kilo and half of ‘bakarwadi’ in one sitting; now I don’t eat more than 10. I could finish one large packet of cashew nuts (defined as one-eighth the size of your standard pillow) and yet not need to go to the toilet the following morning; today I dare not take that risk. I have once eaten 21 slices of Brittania Cheese Slices, just like that; I shudder at that thought today.

As a result of my tendency to eat so much, I’ve been through some mentionable experiences over the years. Here’s a sampling :

* Quite a few times when I go to restaurants, the smart waiter, after taking down my/our order, automatically prepares the table for another guest. (For e.g., by turning the glass at some empty seat and pouring water in it.)

* I’ve had a fight with the guys of every mess and canteen in my college campus over the amount of puris I was eating, and on the amount of bhaji I should be getting per puri.

* My mother rarely had to clear up any food to put in the fridge throughout my school and junior college years – Non-veg dishes, dal, chapattis – I used to finish them all off the way a hungry pack of wolves would tear through a juicy moose in the snowy expanses of Alaska.

* There was a period during my school years where I don’t remember not having a stomachache after any meal I had liked.

* I was the favourite friend-of-their-son of all the mothers of my school friends. Whenever there was a birthday party, while the others used to be more interested in playing games, I used to focus all my energies on the food. Actions speak louder than words, and all these mothers used to be delighted that, finally, someone was appreciating their culinary skills ! And how !

* Once, a cousin sister of mine, knowing no doubt how much I loved eating, offered to give me a ‘treat’ in McDonald’s. (This was in those days when McDonald’s had just come to India, and going there was still an occasion.) My mother, who was standing nearby enquired of her as to the monetary size of the treat she had in mind. When she said, “100 – 200 bucks”, my mother burst out laughing.

* Whenever my mother used to get anything in the house that was tasty and edible, I used to finish it off in a couple days. She used to hide such food in various places, but I had become such an expert at ferreting out food, that I actually could find the correct tin by just picking it up. If it felt heavier than the day before, voila ! My trademark has always been that I finish off all the edible contents in the tins, and leave behind only the empty plastic / paper bag – much like the robbers who put a signature on every crime they commit. This way my mom didn’t have to spend too much time wondering where all the food she had just got, had vanished. A side effect of this has been that until recently, I’ve been the source of great embarrassment at home, whenever guests used to pay an impromptu visit. My mom would be like, ‘Okay, I’ve got this and this and that to give to them.’ She would then offer something to them, and they would acquiesce, and she would open the concerned jar and take out the plastic bag with a flourish, only to find it empty ! No problems, she would say, I’ve something else hidden there – ofcourse I’d been there too ! So on, until, well, you know !

Posted @ 11 pm, July 03, 2007

A Romantic Manifestation – By Randy Ian

2007-07-14T22:28:00.000+05:30

Today evening I had gone to the campus canteen with some friends of mine. We dictated our order to the curly-haired rabbit-toothed ‘cheyta’ sitting at the cash counter who scribbled out something on square yellow pieces of paper in handwriting not dissimilar to that of most doctors I’ve gone to. We then handed our coupons to the black-googles wearing ‘cheyta’ behind the food counter, and went and sat at some table.

It so happened that the girl-friend of one of these friends of mine was also with him, and she was about to go back home for a few days. So, both of them were pretty sentimental and in a “cho-chweet” mood. You know how it is with couples whose ages are around 20-21 years.

She : ‘Okay, I’m gooiinngg…’.
He (after a long sigh) : ‘Hmmm. I feel like coming with you…’.
She giggles and pokes him.
She : ‘Then come naa…’.
He holds her hand and looks at her with a sad smile, ‘I wish.’.
They both play with their hands and fingers, at the same time swinging their hands, as if they are playing in some sort of a creative competition of producing different types of handshakes. Then she says, now in serious final sort of way, ‘Okay haan, now bye.’
Now he says, all serious too, ‘Baaye.’

By this point however, I was staring intently, with great concentration, at onion and chilli pieces in my Gobi Manchurian (a very popular dish in Kerala, introduced here by one the earliest of the throngs of Nepalis working all over Kerala, and a dish which now bears no resemblance whatsoever to either Gobi or Manchurian), and chomping on the morsel in my mouth with a regular rhythm !

Posted @ 10 pm, July 03, 2007

Lacuna Kyon

2007-07-02T16:43:00.000+05:30

I've not written a post for quite some time by my usual standards. There are quite a few reasons for this - I was down for about a week with a sickening and resilient viral infection; I had no convenient internet access for some time since I wasn't at home; I was caught up in some important activities. Now, as I sit here, in the lab in my college, I do not have anything to write. And even if I did, I am not in the mood and I do not have the time. I suppose, a few days later when I do get the mood, the time, the energy and the right sort of idea to add another post, I shall delete this post. Till then this will have to do.

The difference between Americans and Europeans ?

2007-06-21T00:52:00.000+05:30

I have come across this difference many times. Not first-hand, certainly, but in many books and articles. P. G. Wodehouse has made innumerable allusions to this great difference, often with great humorous effect. (The funniest example would be the scarab collecting American in Something Fresh.) Many writers, (e.g. Grisham) whose stuff I have read, have commented upon this. An uncle of mine who has had the opportunity to interact with people from both these regions has also mentioned this difference.

And today, in an article on Fortune.com, Jean-Marie Eveillard, a French who has work in the US for the major part of career, has been quoted as saying

"... Shortly after I retired, a friend of mine who's in the business said to me, "Ah, well now you'll have plenty of time to run your own portfolio." I told him no. I kept my money in my funds - or what used to be my funds - because it would not have shown great confidence in Charles if I had taken my money off the table.

Also, one thing about Americans - something I think is very positive - is there's this idea that God did not put us on this earth to do nothing. No matter your age. Whereas Europeans believe that once you retire, there is nothing wrong with doing nothing.

I was reading the financial newspapers, I helped teach a course on value investing at Columbia Business School, but otherwise I did not have a very active retirement."

Its a winner !

2007-06-17T09:38:00.000+05:30

I generally avoid putting on the blog jokes, amusing photos, and other kinds of such stuff, typically received in email forwards - my blog should contain more of my contributions, I feel. But sometimes one comes across an outstanding photo or article, and one feels compelled to display it, as a sort of obligation to it. I had put one sometime previously too. Here's this one.

Sartorial Gaucherie

2007-06-17T00:53:00.000+05:30

Recently, a friend of mine, who doesn't quite maintain a certain minimum standard in wearing decent clothes, told me, quite sheepishly ofcourse, about a very amusing incident. It seems he was standing in some shop waiting for the shopkeeper to hand over to him the items he had ordered. A lady entering the shop was deceived by his appearance into thinking that he was the shopkeeper's assistant boy. She apparently stood in front of him and was staring at him, expecting him to ask her 'Memsaab, kya chaahiye ?". My dear friend was oblivious to this, and was staring somewhere into deep space, one hand on his hips, the other drumming the latest tune of some Tamil film. Ofcourse, the lady mistook his idyllic behaviour for dereliction of duty and, much to his surprise, poked him in his side, near the ribs, and snapped, "Ja, mere liye woh Fair and Lovely ka cream leke aa."

Something like that happened with me too, many years ago. Now, I am not overly fastidious as far as clothes go, but I do enjoy wearing good clothes. I may not be fashionable, but the clothes I wear outside home aren't that bad either. But there was a time when I was young, when I wasn't the slightest bothered as to what I was wearing or how my hair clumped over my head. In fact, I was anti-fashion. (Ofcourse, my hair has almost always been in a frowzled state, and though now I care how it looks like, it still is.)

I was spending my summer vacations with my grandparents, and had just arrived there the previous day. They live in a building that has three lifts - the centre one is for residents and their guests, and the two lifts on either side of this lift are for the working class people. I don't quite care for this differentiation, and back then, certainly didn't. My grandmother sent me to buy some grocery items. I checked which lift was closest to my floor, and since the third one (the working class one) was the nearest, I pressed the button for that lift. When I came back from the shopping, I saw that that all the lifts were on the ground floor. So I naturally started walking towards the centre lift.

This was me. A cheap polythene bag in my hand, containing an assortment of vegetables - dhaniya, tamaatar, onion and the like. Rubber slippers on my foot. A very shabby and old pair of shorts, and an equally shabby, and moreover stained T-shirt. There were a few holes in it too - it was one of my old favourites and its material had become soft over the years. Hence, inspite of the holes, I used to wear it, especially on hot, humid afternoons such as those of Bombay in May. And the hair. Oh, that wild sweaty dishevelled shock of hair, that has scared off so many potential caresses from loving aunts, soiled many pillow-cases and made barbers wonder whether they should borrow those grass-cutters from the nearby gardener.

Well, I was told to take the other lift. "Main yahaan rehta hoon.", said I, and walked into the centre lift, wondering whether the liftman had gone nuts. The liftman had no option but to operate the lift. He did give me some peculiar stares though.

And that was that.

More kudos Google's way

2007-06-17T00:08:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I used Google Notebook (http://www.google.com/notebook) for the first time - and I'm very happy with it. It is an excellent piece of software, and very useful too, especially for a person like me who reads a majority of his articles online and likes to store the better ones. There are some bugs that need to be sorted out with, in the word editing section. However, they are very trivial bugs, so they did not pose much of a problem in the end as I found out a way around them. (And tell me about a word processor that does not give problems when you directly copy a highlighted amalgam of text, script and pictures from a webpage.. MS Word surely does !)

I've already made separate notebooks for all the distinct verticals I could think of - I thought that would be better idea as compared to make similar sections under one notebook. If you don't get what I'm saying, just give Google Notebook a try, it is definitely worth it. While scanning through some info on Notebook just now at Wikipedia, I found out that Micrsoft has had a somewhat similar product in its stable for quite some years now called Microsoft OneNote or some such thing. I think it is time they started offering some stuff free and online, otherwise they are going to lose many a valuable customer.

While on this topic of Microsoft, Google, open-source, piracy etc, I would like to make a mention of an article written by a friend of mine, which I thought was very good. Take a look at it. I too have some stuff to contribute on this topic, but I think I shall write it in another post.

Overheard

2007-06-14T23:18:00.000+05:30

You might want to check out this site http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/ and its sister site http://www.overheardintheoffice.com/.

Some of the posts are very funny.

However, I found this site, http://www.celebritywit.com/, also by the same guys, the funniest.

I suppose, the knowledge we have of the celebrities adds to the humour.

Some are smart . . .

Christina Aguilera: I give money to a company that makes hearing aids. More people should hear me sing.

Madonna: I want to be like Gandhi and Martin Luther King and John Lennon... But I want to stay alive.

Some are downright stupid . . .

Christina Aguilera: So, where's the Cannes Film Festival being held this year?

Lindsay Lohan: I have a, like, what do you call it? Uh... Oh, yeah -- a photographic memory.

Brooke Shields: I'm so naive about finances. Once, when my mother mentioned an amount and I realized that I didn't understand, she had to explain, 'That's like three Mercedes.' Then I understood.

Alicia Silverstone: I think that the film Clueless was very deep. I think it was deep in the way that it was very light. I think lightness has to come from a very deep place if it's true lightness.

George W. Bush: Karyn is with us -- a west Texas girl, just like me.

Jessica Simpson: I'm happy to be a brunette, because it reflects who I am now.

Some are overly pretentious . . .

Quentin Tarantino: I've always had a thought maybe that I might have been Shakespeare in another life. I don't really believe that 100%, and I don't really care about Shakespeare, I've never been into Shakespeare, but then people are constantly bringing up all of these qualities in my work that mirror Shakespearean tragedies and moments and themes.

Cyndi Lauper: If you have intercourse you run the risk of dying, and the ramifications of death are final.

But all of them are funny . . . !

Tara Reid: I make Jessica Simpson look like a rock scientist.

Angelina Jolie: I need more sex, okay? Before I die I wanna taste everyone in the world.

Eminem: Yo, I failed ninth grade three times, but I don't think it was necessarily 'cause I'm stupid.

Overheard

2007-06-14T02:43:00.001+05:30

Location : Outside a shop called Jack's where we used hang out during a break in our coaching classes.

Faiz : "D, dude, you are like a barometer."
D : "Why man ?"
Faiz : "Because a barometer has vacuum at the top."
Burn ! Laughter for 10 minutes.

Explanatory Note 1 : D was our favourite bakra. Initials used to protect identity.

Explanatory Note 2 : It is possible that this joke might have crossed paths with the reader. However, I assure you that the joke was cracked originally on the spur of the moment by the aforementioned Faiz.

Wireless

2007-06-14T01:44:00.000+05:30

I love things that are wireless. By wireless, I mean absolutely without wires, not just wi-fi. I believe in the literal meaning of wi-fi - wireless fidelity - loyalty to that which is without wires. And fidelity towards wireless need not be restricted to snazzy electronic gadgets - it can be applied to almost any gadget or machine.

The arrival of mobile phones, satellite communication techniques, technologies like GPRS, CDMA, 3G etc. are slowly but surely negating the need for having wired telephone and internet access. Sure, wired communication is still safer, cheaper, faster and more reliable for the general public. Sure, all internet traffic travels through gargantuan and serpentine layers of undersea cabling and a worldwide network of telephone cables. Sure, Relcom purchased Flag Telecom and recently finished laying cables across the length and breadth of India. In my opinion, however, wireless is the proverbial 'lambi race ka ghoda', the technology of the future which will render wires obsolete within the next few decades.

I dream of a world in which all voice and data communication takes place only through the wireless medium.

Today, an ever increasing number of people own personal computers. Organisations invest heavily in a lot of computer hardware - PCs, network routers, storage and backup media, etc. All these are connected with wires. The standard desktop PC is a huge mess of interweaving wires - the daily jhaad-poos-waali-bai's worst nightmare. Monitor, keyboard, mouse, speakers, printer, scanner, webcam - all have to be connected to the CPU. There are inter-speaker wires for those 5.1's and 7.1's. The iPod has to be connected with a wire as also the mobile phone. Add to that all the power cables and internet cables. It's a mad, mad world. But nowadays, wireless mice and keyboards are becoming cheaper, and hence, more popular. The other components still use wires only, but this is set to change with bluetooth and other such short-distance high-datarate technologies being invented, perfected and mass distributed. Laptops are also being used by many more people, and a laptop is one of the strongest proponents of the wireless world.

I dream of a world in which laptops and slim wifi-communicating-component-based desktops become commonplace, and all communication with PnP devices is wireless.

Some years back, these people we knew, had purchased a flat in the outskirts of Pune. Since the area was in the purlieu of city, the municipal corporation wasn't supplying water to that area. The society had to make do with a couple of borewells dug up near. However, this water contained salts and other minerals, which made it non-potable. Hence, they had to purchase those 20 liter plastic cartons of water. Later, however, they came across this machine in an ad, which converted the water vapour in the air into drinking water. The manufacturers guaranteed atleast 20 liters of water a day. I do not know whether they actually purchased the 'aquator', but it lent high-octane fuel to my imagination - it created the possibility of elimination of water pipes from our lives. In the same way, a device could be created that would 'vaporize' all the used and unclean water, or better still purify it immediately for reuse.

I dream of a world in which there are no ugly waterpipes disfiguring our homes and bathrooms, and where the atmosphere itself is a conduit for all the water that we need.

Quite a few people must have read Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged. In that, the leading hero, John Galt, invents a motor that is able to generate electricity / power from air. It is certainly a very fantastic claim. But, having seen the great leaps taken in technology over the past decade and a half, one cannot discount outright the possibility of such an invention taking place some years down the line. And if the invention is exactly the way it is described in the book, producing energy from thin air and yet not polluting it a bit, then it would solve 90% of the world's problems - think fuel shortage, oil and gas wars, related inflation, environmental problems and global warming. But, my focus is not on that. I look at the beauty of it - no horrendous transmission lines dotting the horizon. No ugly tangled masses of wires near your house. Clean standalone devices. No wires to trip over.

I dream of a world in which there are no messy wires spoiling the beauty of compact devices.

Some things that I wish for, especially those in the previous paragraph are way too far-fetched. However, the other things that are mentioned are very much feasible - and have already been implemented somewhere or the other. I really can envisage something like this happening in my house. Imagine your music system, your laptop / cool wireless compact lcd-screen desktop, your portable music player and your mobile seamlessly connected through wireless medium, offering an unimagineable fluidity as far as your data is concerned.

I dream on . . .

Disclaimer : This post has been written on the spur of the moment and without any research. So, some claims might be very far-fetched and some closer to reality than can be imagined.

MOTORAZR 2

2007-06-09T21:40:00.000+05:30

Motorola has brought out the newest mobile in the RAZR series - the RAZR 2 or Motorola V8/V9/V9m.

I am currently using the MotoRazr, and I love this handset. I have been eagerly awaiting a successor to this mobile (not for buying, but just for viewing and imagining pleasure) - and I wasn't happy at all with the other variations built around the Razr. The KRazr looks yuk, the Razr V3x is thick and too wide, and the RIZR looks good, but in my opinion cannot match the sheer class, style and flamboyance of the original MOTORAZR. However, the RAZR 2 looks to be a worthy successor !

Ad zapped !

2007-06-09T03:35:00.000+05:30

What, oh what, have I done to deserve such ads on my blog ? As I had noted previously, there was some connection. But this is beyond me.

Maybe, some Google moderator went through my blog and put this ad up for the benefit of the other readers !

For Christ's sake

2007-06-08T13:01:00.000+05:30

I thought that Google Adsense puts context-sensitive ads - something that is relevant to the contents of the blog. What the hell is this ad doing on my blog ?

As far as I knew, I had not be evangelical anywhere on my blog. There were no philosophical wonderings about Him nor of any other God. What then, I wondered. And I had, I mean I still do have, enough respect for Google to allow error to come in. A quick Ctrl+F, followed by a search for "christ" revealed hits in this post, and this, and this.

But this hurts ! I am an avowed atheist - and even I were not, I am Hindu by birth. I feel like telling Adsense, "For Christ's sake, remove it !"

Eda, ithu interesting aan !

2007-06-07T23:49:00.001+05:30

If you have stayed for even a short while in Kerala, you will find this post very interesting. A friend of mine recently emailed the link to me - the author has explained the "Secrets of Malayali Christian names" in an extremely lucid manner.

If you are even remotely familiar with Indian names, and have noticed the difference in the length and complexity of names that occurs on either side of the great North-South Indian Divide, then you should read this article - titled “The Travails of Single South Indian men of conservative upbringing” or “Why we don’t get any…”

If your knowledge of India's diverse nomenclatural culture is zilch, but you still are the normal Indian guy, fear not. I have something that you too can enjoy - here !

I would like to finish this post off with the following joke. Pardon me if you do not find it even remotely as funny as I did when I first read it in my inbox. Incidentally, this was forwarded to me by a Telegu friend of mine !

On a flight James bond was sitting next to a Telugu guy.
Telugu Guy: "Hello, May I know your name please?"
James Bond: "My name is Bond"
Continuing in his inimitable style, "......James Bond."
Then Bond asks: "And you?"
Telugu Guy:
"My name is Rao...
Siva Rao...
Samba Siva Rao...
Venkata Samba Siva Rao...
Yarlagadda Venkata Samba Siva Rao...
Rajasekhara Yarlagadda Venkata Samba Siva Rao...
Sitaramanjaneyula Rajasekhara Yarlagadda Venkata Samba Siva Rao...
Vijayawada Sitaramanjaneyula Rajasekhara Yarlagadda Venkata Samba Siva Rao..."
Since then when anyone asks Bond his name, he simply says "James Bond."

Gadgets I'd like to own

2007-06-07T23:04:00.000+05:30

I am an out-and-out gadget freak. Just seeing a new gadget can make my day. Owning a new device keeps me happy for months. If someone even touches any gadget I own, I become restless. I hate lending my gadgets - though ofcourse, nowadays I have consciously decided to become generous, because I don't like to borrow something and then not lend in return. Still, I am very particular as to who I lend my gadgets to.

As a student, who has not yet settled down on his own, I feel these are the gadgets I would like to own to feel complete from a luxury point of view - a laptop, a mobile, a flash memory mp3 player, a portable media player, a satellite radio set, a digital camera, a handycam, a good set of portable speakers and good set of headphones. Ofcourse, this is all fantasy - I don't quite have the money to own any of these gadgets !

Laptop - A Sony Viao or an Apple iMac would the most preferred. The high-end Dell or HP laptops would be good to, but I have a great attraction towards products from the stables of Sony and Apple. Since I'm in India, buying an iMac would be like buying a car that works perfectly, but only on 5% of the roads. So, Viao it is. I would love to buy that model which supports Blu-ray disc-writing - and I would like my laptop to be a powerhouse of sorts - high RAM, a humongous hard-disk and a fast dual-core processor.

Mobile - Again, the iPhone is ruled out as of now. So, I would either opt for a Nokia N series mobile in the 90+ series or the Moto Razr 2.

Mp3 player - I would like to own two mp3 players. The iPod nano and the Sony exercise walkman player, both with flash memories of 4 or 8 GB.

PMP - Without doubt, the COWON A2. A friend of mine has it, and using it is a delightful experience.

Satellite Radio - There's not much choice in India, so Worldspace it is.

Camera - The most expensive Cybershot offered by Sony.

Handycam - A digital hard-disk based handycam from Sony again.

Speaker Set - Any speakers from either Creative, Bang & Olufson or Bose.

Headphones - Since Bose has been advertising their headphones so much, Bose it is.

Aaah ! Just thinking about these gadgets has released a flood of endorphins and other happiness and exhilaration inducing chemicals in my body . . .

Some notes on India's diversity

2007-06-07T16:09:00.001+05:30

Having been lucky enough to stay and study in a very culturally diverse campus (i.e. as far as the various cultures of India go - since I am pursuing a B.Tech in an NIT), I have been able to observe some distinguishing characteristics about people coming from various states.

Surprisingly, these traits are applicable to most people when they are residents, and not natives of the states in question. Which only goes to show that environment, company and upbringing do play a far greater role than race or genes.

These are derived from the first-hand experiences of yours truly, and should in no way be taken at face value because they might be biased and exaggerated, and because this is a very provincial, parochial and one-gender-sided view as the observations noted here are more or less restricted within the campus, and that-too within the boys' side of the campus, and because yours truly is afraid of communal riots breaking out if this blog becomes popular and many people read it and take it to heart, and because I do not want to be accused of being a racist, and all other possible disclaimers I can think of... Anyway, without further ado, here goes.

Tamil Nadu. Codename - Talli.
They will hate being called "madrassi"s. And they will also not like calling Madras Madras, they want to call it Chennai. Madrassis hailing from Madras should be very proud of Madras - especially when I tell them that in Bombay, or for that matter anywhere in the north, Madrassis is used to refer to anyone hailing from the south. Apparently, they don't take too kindly to this. However, native Madrassis and those settled there will very unitedly castigate the rickshawallahs of Madras, and tell all sorts of horror cab stories to anyone planning to visit Madras.

Karnataka. No Codename.
Mild fellows, who do not feel strongly about any issue. Nothing very special to note, except that those hailing from Bangalore will generally be uber hep, and will go out of their way to be uber uber hep. They will listen to hard metal all the time. And yes, among boys, the affinity quotient for girls (or AGQ) will be the second highest after Gujarat.

Andhra Pradesh. Codename - Gulti.
Very very clannish and close-knitted. Go for breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner together. Have fun together. Go for picnics together. Light fires together. And also help each other a lot. Make sounds like "Vadrrra, Vadrrra" all the time. (Even tallis make such sounds, but since they are not always in groups, you do not always hear it.) If there is no restriction on the number of students that can come from AP, then 3/4ths of the entrants will be Gultis. If their state rank is 'x', then their All India rank is '1.33x'. Can be compared to vultures, as their heads are mostly bald or well-cropped, and they have a very strong "gulture".

Kerala. Codename - Mallu.
They will have a bath everyday, sometimes even thrice. They will add 'h' when it is not needed and drop it otherwise. Nishant becomes Nishanth and Sharat become Sarath. If you are studying in a college in Kerala, wearing shorts or three-fourths or even nine-tenths (tolia, are you listening ?) is not allowed, but wearing a lungi or a mundi is. It is beyond the comprehension of the Mallus that a full-length mundi exposes much of the hairy and not so shapely legs of the boys, and a mundi, which so often is folded upwards, reveals almost three-fourths of the leg (Oh ! the horror). Sometimes, I have had, much to my disgust, the misfortune of getting a peek of an underwear or two (BOYS ONLY).

Rajasthan. Again, no codename.
They will not have a bath everyday, sometimes not even every week. (Possibly due to the environment they stay in, too much water on the body does them harm.) They will love all Karan Johar films. But they will not touch alcohol or drinks, and will mostly be vegetarians.

Punjab. Codename - Khallu
They will smoke, drink and dope like the dickens. Their hindi will have a very strong accent. They will try to be the most macho guys. They will listen to a lot of Bhangra pop.

Gujarat. Codename - Gujju.
They will listen to Himesh Reshmiyya all the time. Their AGQ will be the highest, and each boy will have several loving 'behans', and will always be seen in the company of many girls. They will make boys from UP and MP jealous with their success. They will always play dandiya raas every year when every state has to showcase something cultural. And yes, their cupboards will be stocked up with loads of mithais and other tasty Gujarati namkeen products.

West Bengal. Codename - Boka.
Most of them will surprisingly be Marwaris. They will go to costly eating places every other day - even the Taj is a regular stop. Some of them will have expensive alcohol bottles in their cupboards. They will always dress as if they are going for their own wedding - and will spray loads of expensive perfume every now and then. Will side with the Gujjus in their war with UP, hereafter referred to as the GU (pronounced as Goo) wars.

Uttar Pradesh. No codename.
They will also drink, smoke and dope the most. They will also try to be macho. They will have constant territorial and testesteronial wars with members of the Gujju clan, in the aforementioned GU wars. They will swear and shout loudly in extremely fluent English when they get drunk, but when the nasha subsides, it's back to Hindi. Instead of pauses and various interjections, they will always prefer to punctuate their sentences with expletives related to the mothers and the sisters and daughters of the people they are talking to.

Madhya Pradesh. No codename.
Come a close second in the drinking, smoking and doping consumption study. Will side with the UP guys in their constant GU wars with the Gujarat-Bengal combine. They will always be the cricket champions in the intra-campus cricket tournament. They will have the highest ratio of 'Entrance rank' to 'Current CGPA'., due to a phenomenon known in campus parlance as 'maajor giveup'.

Bihar. Codename - the B-Boys.
They will all wear t-shirts proclaiming they are B-boys. They will smoke themselves to death within the confines of their rooms. They will listen to unheard of hindi songs. They will generally be very tough looking. Those who don't smoke will study the most in the campus, be spiritual and be extremely motivated and focussed about their careers.

Since I hail from the state of Maharashtra, I was unable to provide a write-up, as I have never been able to take a detached view on our group. However, I welcome readers from other states to help me complete this articles, and I assure you, if the description is sufficiently nasty, I will definitely add it here - just post it as a comment.

A wise saying in Marathi

2007-06-07T15:36:00.002+05:30

For the past half an hour or so, I've been trying to figure out how to publish a post using the Devnagiri lipi, but my wetware is slipping, so I am forced to write it in English. Readers familiar with Marathi will, however, surely be able to understand it - and appreciate the wisdom behind it !

"Zo pahiley naak dharee,
Toch aahe paadkaree"

Translated, it means, whoever clamps his nose first in disgust at the foul smell of a possible fart, is the culprit who has let lose the noxious gases from his flatulent abdomen.

I do not expect a person unfamiliar with Marathi to find this very funny, but if you understand Marathi well and yet do not find this funny at all, then please forgive me. As a weak excuse, I would like to quote David Ogilvy, who, in one of his books has made this very memorable remark - "From my father I inherited two things - smoking a pipe and a scatological sense of humour."

My father certainly does not smoke a pipe, and neither do I, but as relatives and friends will vouch for in all earnest, I have certainly inherited a very morbid and scatalogical sense of humour from my father !

Update - For some arbitrary reason, today (Sunday, April 06, 2008), I figured out how to do it . . . here is the Marathi version

जो पहिले नाक धरी,
तोच आहे पाद्करी ||

Overheard

2007-06-07T11:37:00.000+05:30

Friend1 : "Hey, I noticed that on your orkut profile, you have mentioned that you are committed ? So, tell me, who's the girl ?"

Friend2 : (stiffly) "I am committed to the nation."

Suicide : Crime or Not ?

2007-06-06T22:48:00.000+05:30

I feel that committing suicide is not a crime, and a person who has tried committing suicide with sincere intentions and has failed, should not be penalized. However, I am all for suicide being a severely punishable offence. The reason is that this will serve as a deterrent for all those people who feign suicides to generate attention or sympathy. And, the declaration of a suicide attempter as a criminal, will indirectly benefit the people who really want to commit suicide, in that, they know that they cannot fail - the life which drove them to suicide will become even worse.

Funny Surnames

2007-06-06T22:35:00.001+05:30

Today, when I entered a building, (I had gone for some work to Mahim), I saw a name called Pilgaonkar - this should be an ideal name for a public prosecutor or social activist, I thought ! PILgaonkar.. !

Many years ago, when I used to go to play tennis, my coach there used love translating Marathi surnames into English - his favourites were Panshikar, Palshikar and Karmarkar. Translated word for word into English, these come out as But-shit-do, Run-shit-do and Do-die-do ! There were some more which were still funnier, but I can't recollect those right now. This also reminds of the fun made of names like (with due apologies to like-named people, ofcourse) Hardik and Sukhdeep, by Russell Peters.

Actually, in todays world, where we all use English for a major part of our communication, and where we write Indian names in English, we have to be extremely careful in naming people - some homophonic names can be really embarrassing.

Imagine going abroad with a surname like Dikshit !

Dry and droll

2007-06-05T16:52:00.000+05:30

Years ago, while leafing through Reader's Digest, I had come across this joke. A man who was going through the diary of his grandfather had sent Reader's Digest an entry on some date long ago -

"Raining heavily.
Day gloomy.
Drank 2 pegs of Scotch whiskey.
Day still gloomy."

I had found it so funny that I remember it well even after so many years. My afternoon is also passing somewhat like that.

"Very hot, humid and dull.
Day gloomy.
Drank water from one coconut.
Day still gloomy."

The Educated Cobbler

2007-06-05T09:25:00.001+05:30

This is a true story. I repeat, this is an absolutely true story with no fabrications or exaggerations whatsoever.

-----------------------------

I was in Calicut at that time and my sandals needed repair. I remembered that quite a few cobblers used to sit lined up along the road near the local Medical College. I went there by bus, and sure enough, there were around four cobblers there, sitting solemnly on the road with their backs resting on the railing separating the road from the pavement. Each one of them was sitting on those tarpaulin mats, with a black umbrella somehow propped up to protect themselves from the heat of the sun. I picked one of them who seemed idle at that moment and removed the sandals from the plastic bag. Since I am not quite adept at the local language, I decided to avoid speaking as far as possible, and using gesticulations instead, to communicate.

I pointed at all the places where the sandals were torn, looked at the cobbler, nodded and said "Stitch haan.. here".

"So, you are a student ?".
"Uhh.. eh ? Ah, yes.. I am studying at NIT Calicut."
"And what is your name ? I am Sam."
"I'm ---."

And so on. Sam told me that he had been befriended by a professor of English at some college nearby, and this professor had taken the efforts to teach him English. Not only that, he had also lent Sam many books from his personal library. That was many years ago, and this professor was no longer alive. After that, Sam had taken to travelling in and around North Kerala and North Tamil Nadu - "cobblering" along the way - he had spent some years in Coimbatore, and now he was back in Calicut. Amazing !

"Stalin was from a humble background too. His father was a cobbler, like me."
"You mean Stalin, of Russia ?"
"Yes. The dictator of Russia."

So, this guy was really well read. I made a mental note to check this up, but I was pretty sure it would be accurate.

We continued chatting in English - about the weather, about Malayam, about English, about Bombay... A boy carrying some glasses filled with black tea, "chaaya" in local parlance came by, kept a glass near the mat, and went on with his round. The cobbler took the glass in his hands and asked me - "Would you care to have some tea ?". I politely declined. He took a sip, "It is very strong. All of us cobblers here drink this black tea. We need it - the heat makes us tired."

Now the sandals were done. He showed me the new stitches. He had really stitched the sandals well.

"How much ?", I asked.
"15 rupees."

That was very reasonable. I felt he should have asked more - and I wanted to pay him atleast 20. But, for some reason, I felt it would look odd, and he had that gentlemanly air and that pride about him which made me hesitate paying a tip. So I paid him the 15 bucks.

I wrapped the sandals in the polythene bag and turned to go. Sam took out a bidi, lit it up and said grandly, "Now I will fag !".

-------------------------------

The racial race among races

2007-06-04T22:04:00.000+05:30

What can possibly be worse for a society when it's members fight to be recognized as "backward", where "backward" has now become something worth attaining because it is an easy way to possible success . . . even the hypocrisy and ridiculousness of a head of a nation commenting on the rising salaries of CEOs of private companies which have been conquering markets around the globe, comes nowhere close . . .

I remember a close friend of mine whose surname was "Lahankar" commenting sardonically that had his name differed by an 'o', he wouldn't have had to slog for JEE - you see, "Lohankar" would have meant that he could have applied through the "quota" !

As Anil Thakraney has commented in 'Ouch Potato', the only good thing that will result from us steadily 'progressing' in this backward direction is that soon every community will demand backward status and soon there will be 100% reservation in all public and private institutions !

View from PJ Towers, Dalal Street

2007-06-01T21:51:00.000+05:30

Ambush Marketing

2007-05-28T23:51:00.000+05:30

I recently came across this photograph under the above title in some blog, which I don't remember now. However, it is definitely worth a look. Apologies to the guy from whose blog I had saved the picture, and apologies to the concerned airlines if this photograph is a fake.

The Trip to Oooohty

2007-05-28T22:29:00.001+05:30

Btw, if you are as sharp as Rupert Baxter, and have observed the abrupt lull in the posting frequency in the past 8 days, and have started suspecting that something fishy was going on - fear not - I had gone for short holiday to Ooty and Kunnoor with my family.

The trip was wonderful. The thing I liked the most was the temperature out there. I am a person made for cold weather - I melt and stink and feel drowsy and lethargic and totally demotivated in the hot and humid climates of Bombay and Calicut (Mumbai and Kozhikode, if you are of the unneccessarily puritanically psuedo patriotic type). However, cold weather brings back the joie the vivre which hot weather so nastily puts cold water on. My appetite increases, and for a change I can eat heartily because I know that the food will all be digested in that nice cold weather. I don't sweat at all, I feel pepped up all through the day, lethargy follows the path of the dodo and my otherwise sluggish temperament takes a back seat as I am always on the qui vive (expecting adventures to befall me ?).

Of course, no good thing is complete with a few irritations and hitches here and there. We had this story in our Bal Bharti (SSC guys will be feeling nostalgic, no doubt) about a King who is wandering in the jungle on a hunting expedition, and as he is wandering about, thirsty, in search of water, he come across a hut. A fair, beautiful, and as we come to know later, wise maiden (They are always fair and good-looking, aren't they ?) comes out, and the King requests her for something to drink. She gives him a bowl full of some thirst-quenching liquid, but sprinkles pepper all over the surface. Instead of being able to gulp the liquid down in one shot, the King has to sip the liquid carefully, by blowing away the pepper every time. He compliments her on the tasty liquid, and adds that it would have been tastier but for the pepper. Then she gives all sorts of wise fundae as to how the value of the liquid increased because of the pepper that came in the way. True, no doubt.

So, here's a brief take on a few of the irritations that made me appreciate the simple joys of life and made the trip so memorable.

1. The Bombay airport that resembles CST

You think you have attained some exclusivity by travelling by air. No, you are wrong. People throng there like the dickens - and the government will simply not increase the number of seats, so you have to stand in the lounge. The electronic board that notifies you about the status of various flights is malfunctioning, so the airport staff members move around like heralds, shouting out the flights that require security check.

2. The shameless and oversmart lady

The announcement says that people for xyz flight, please head to Gate No. 5. Everybody hurriedly gets up and a long queue gets formed. As we are approaching the gate, we see a family approaching the gate at right angles to us. This contingent is headed by the shameless lady, and consists of her husband, an ayah, a healthy and fit pair of grandparents, and one baby in the pram. They just butt into the queue and walk through the foyer. The cheek ! (I don't see any reason why they couldn't stand in the queue - the pram is no excuse, because it was a foldable pram.)

3. The crammed up space deficient airplane

We are not the Japanese. The average Indian male's height is 5'8". And these guys can just about fit in. What about the guys who are more than 6 feet tall ? What about those poor bastards like me who are a full 6'4" ? I can understand it if I am not able to sit in taxis and buses. No problemo. But, this is an aeroplane, for Christ's sake - and just because we are travelling economy doesn't mean you should be so inconsiderate.

4. Flop visit no.1

We decide to visit the Ooty lake. 4 of us cram into a rickshaw and for 30 Rs. we are taken from the hotel to the lake. One look and I know we shouldn't have come. The crowd there resembled the Chaturshringi mela in Pune. Still, we decide to take the plunge and head towards the boat-ride ticket counter. Bluuaahk. Someone vomits, and some of the vomit falls on my father's shoes. We regroup, and unanimously decide to head back to the beautiful confines of the hotel. This time however, the rickshawallahs have the upper hand and we are forced to pay 50 bucks for 2 rickshaws for the 4 of us. Nice.

5. Flop visit no.2

Everyone recommends that we go and visit Madhumalai sanctuary. 1.5 hours laters, after battling the heat, bumps and dust of a parched landscape we arrive at the sanctuary. Me and my dad walk up to the ticket counter. It's a big mess there. There is a huge queue. People are jumping the queue here and there, everybody is looking confused, the policeman there who doesn't know either hindi or english is shouting something in gobbledegook, people are waving arms, other people are just standing there in clumps, a group of goras is standing in the centre all confused and dazed and I getting this sinking feeling in my stomach. An obliging man tells me that I will have to go to the counter and take a token - after about an hour or so, they will call my number and then I have to go and buy the tickets. But what about the queue, I asked ? Oh, he says, those are the people who have a token and who are crowding there despite being told to come only when their number is called. I take the token, but the whole mess has just put me off. I take a look at the first of the buses that are leaving for the tour. Horrible. Green in colour, all ramshackle and rickety, cramped up and uncomfortable, God ! No glass, no curtain, no cushions - just hard wood and metal. Again, the great minds have a hasty conference, and after 15 minutes of intelligent debating and thoughtful reasoning, the decision to return to the hotel is taken. Our driver ofcourse, iss flabbergasted - he tries his best to convince us to stay and take the ride, but falls silent when I ask him whether there is any confirmation that we would see tigers or lions or even elephants. But you can see deer, he says, a while later. Anyway, back to the hotel we go.

And yes, my parents did stop on the way and drink some filter kaapi which they said was excellent - so the trip wasn't exactly wasted.

6. The trip from Ooty to Kunnoor

I wonder whether all these politicians, who travel around in a fleet of government vehicles and make the police barricade the traffic for hours even before they are supposed to pass through a given road, realise how much they inconvenience the general public. I suppose, even if they did know, they wouldn't care. Fine, I say, let the politicians have their way, they have to run the country I suppose. But what about all the altu-phaltu posts like the Governor ? I mean what does the Governor do ? Rather, considering the amount of tax-payer's money spent on him and on maintaining his lifestyle (what with the bungalow and amenities and servants and cars and petrol and plane travel), is it really commensurate with his contribution to the country ? God only knows, as Bharat Dabholkar says.

The reason I am asking this is because Ooty and Kunnoor are barely 40 minutes away - a mad driver can do it in half an hour. However, unfortunately for us, the governor of TN chose to pass through our very route - and traffic came to a standstill. Believe me, I have been through some really horrible traffic jams, at Lonavla on the old Bombay-Pune highway, and in Bombay itself. However, the traffic jam that we passed on the opposite side really took the cake. The thin, 2 track, potholed, winding, steep and uphill roads all joined forces to make it really miserable for the guys coming towards Ooty. Luckily, our side of the traffic kept flowing smoothly with only intermittant bottlenecks, but the other guys had a horrible time. Then, heaven opened it's floodgates and all the rain came cascading on our luggage atop the car. So, we had to step out and take the bags on our laps.

To make matters worse, our driver was a weird fellow who just irritated the hell out of all of us, without intending to, of course. This guy, when his car slowed down, (in this case, as I told you, we had to stop every now then), would shift the gear to neutral and then back to first, again to neutral then to first - even if the car slowed down for just a second or two. I really wonder who taught him driving. As if that was not enough, he used to leave such long gaps between himself and the next car - without exaggerating, 5 more cars could have fitted in between. And all this on a slow moving bottlenecked road. The shocking thing was, all the drivers there were doing this. We could make out that the opposing side had a 2-3 kilometre long traffic jam, yet, every other vehicle was leaving such long gaps on the opposite side, and making no effort to cover it too. Out here, you have bumper-to-bumper traffic, and if you leave a gap, people will openly swear at you and fill the gap up. It seems weird that this should cause irritation, but it did - and we all felt it. As my mom put it, we felt like taking a stick or a spur and prodding that guy. Go... ! At one point, this guy actually got out of the car, (as we were waiting in the jam) and started chatting with a car driver stuck in the jam in the opposite direction. Our line started moving - but this guy showed no inclination for getting into the car. I had to wave and shout before he ambled over and leisurely got going.

Lessons -

1. Home Sweet Home.

2. If and when you become very rich, make sure you buy and maintain a holiday home in some easily accessible (read very close to the airport) hill station with average temperatures in summer of about 18 degree celsius.

3. The traffic jams of Bombay are nothing compared to that of Kunnoor.

4. The weather of Bombay sucks more than ever.

5. Appreciate the taxi drivers in Bombay for how fast they (try to) drive.

How do you unpark your car from this mess ?

2007-05-18T18:52:00.001+05:30

Today, in the parking lot opposite HSBC at Fort, I saw this amazing site. And yes, that yellow thing on the left side is a pretty high divider that encloses this paid-parking area - remember, only if there is only one entrance can the guys ensure that everyone pays while going out. The cars are sandwiched in such a way that for the cars which you are seeing in front of eyes right now to be able to come out, atleast 20 others cars would need to get out of the way. The cars are parked in multi-direction layers, and for any of the inner layers of cars to be able to come out, would require the outermost layer of 3 or 4 cars to go out. I guess they must be having an arrangement or something - maybe they all work in the same place (BSE?) and office gets over at the same time for all of them. Anyway, good luck to that person who has an emergency and has to somehow extricate his car from this mess !

Objective Journalism

2007-05-16T13:28:00.000+05:30

Certain articles are supposed to be objective news, while others are opinions. I guess it is well-known that the media has subtle ways of showing what it feels about a particular person, celebrity or otherwise, even in articles that are meant to be objective.

We face, on a regular basis, carefully worded descriptions which can mislead us, or interviews from which sentences are dropped or quoted only partially. If you want see the full power of misquotation and misconstrueing, see the 2nd episode in the first season of That 70s Show, titled Eric's Birthday. Kelso is the protagonist in this case, and somewhere into the 8th minute ... well, I recommend you see it for yourselves. Today, however, I came to know of another way in which, we the gullible audience, can be unknowingy pushed into a particular direction without knowing it.

While browsing through the newspaper, I came across some article on Ramadoss, and the photograph of this accompanying the article was what set me thinking. It looked like some journalist had spent hours poring through various photographs to find the one in which Ramadoss had the weirdest facial expression - in this case, it was even more weird than the expression which the character played by Ranveer Shourey (have I got the spelling right ?) in Bheja Fry. Or maybe some photographer with infinte patience, lightening speed and a sadistic sense of humour waited for the correct moment, and handed it over to the aforementioned journalist. Or maybe, I'm just conjuring crazy conspiracies in my head - it was just a coincidence. "Just a coincidence" - I can imagine Seinfeld telling this to good old paranoic George. George repeats it to reassure himself, but he actually doesn't believe so. I can't believe this too, for one has to be blind to ignore it. I wonder what that journalist had against poor Ramadoss -oh ! Maybe it is because of the banning of smoking and the whole freedom of expression thing. Toohey would be proud of this guy !

I also remembered the case of a certain Perreira - the photograph accompanying any news item on him is usually the same - with him looking in a very arrogant and angry and callous way at some point in space. Now, suppose, just suppose, hypothetically, that this Perreira fellow is actually a nice, sensitive fellow and by some horrible godforsaken twist of fate, he got embroiled in whatever happened. In that case, thanks to the way the photograph has been taken - maybe that expression fell on his face for just a split second - will definitely affect the way the public takes a personal opinion on him, won't it ? Anyway, I think I have been watching too much of George and Seinfeld.

I need a break !

Nocturnal Insomnia, Diurnal Somnia

2007-05-12T22:45:00.000+05:30

I suffer from a strange disease. I hereby christen it NIDS.

I can't go to sleep if I stay awake past around 8.30 in the night, unless I take extreme efforts to do so. Even if I haven't slept the previous, not a wink, I still can't go to bed if cross that 8-8.30 line. And much to my irritation, however much sleep I've had cannot prevent me from falling asleep any time during the day. By day, I mean the period between 8.30 in the morning, (when the sun-rays lose their innocence), till about 5.30 in evening (when they regain it). During this 'sun-time', all I have to do to fall asleep is lie down on the bed. Everything falls in place, and before I know it, I nod off to sleep. Nothing can come in between me and my sleep during this time, no noise, no heat, no mosquitoes, nothing ! But falling asleep at night - Hercules will probably cry if he is assigned this Sisyphean task of putting me off to sleep every night, and Atlas will definitely shrug.

You cannot imagine to what extent of preparation I go to, to achieve the target of sleeping at night. I set alarms for every half hour starting from 4.00 am. I enqueue about a 100 odd songs in wmp (who knows how much time I might be awake ?). I stare at the fan in the hope that my eyes will get tired and droop off. I multipy 2 and 3 digit numbers in the hope that my brain will tire out - counting sheep was hopeless, as I discovered many years ago. Most importantly, I try not to sleep at all during the day. But this I discovered, is a very very tough thing to do.

When I'm at home, around 9.30-ish in the morning, the bai comes for jhaadu-pochha, thus separating me from the computer. Having nothing to do till she finishes the cleaning, I loll about here and there, and eventually end up in the embryonic position, as snug as a bug in a rug (as Wodehouse has said), on our sofa. If I somehow muster up enough willpower to avoid this temptation, the postprandial period arrives, bringing with it a full stomach and an afternoon dullness (which only our college professors can match), which are stronger than most sedatives. And don't forget, the afternoon last for a full 4 hours - one lapse, one small blip in my willpower radar, and drowsiness swarms over me in a jiffy. There's my mobile on the bed, a few magazines strewn here and there, my watch lying under the pillow, the chaddar flowing among all this debris like a sinuous river, a water bottle here, and my head phones there - all that be damned. My body falls limp over all this, my legs half falling over, and moments later I'm but a dead log.

At college (where I stay in a hostel), it is no different. Going to college and sitting in class ranks first in the survey listing "Natural Sedatives". I don't think I need to explain how tough it is keep awake, my parents understand it, my friends also succumb to it, it is universally acknowledged. If you need more details on what goes on in class, check this out. And going to bed early - people keep knocking at that very moment when I am either contemplating going to bed, or when I have just gone to bed. Like this moron, who kept knocking on my door for around 10 mins even though the lights in the room were switched off. (I know it was 10 mins because I woke up at the first knock, and waited for a full 9 mins for him to go away, but pertinacious jackass that he was, I knew he would keep knocking, and hence I finally opened the door. Turns out, he was some first year. I use the words moron and jackass with certainty because I saw his face in the light later, and he definitely was one. Long haired friend of mine, if you ever do read this, you know whom I'm talking about.)

Aaah ! It is approaching 11.35 pm - come what may, I have to lie down in bed. Readers, please pray that I may fall asleep !

A tribute to Julie Andrews

2007-05-12T22:35:00.000+05:30

I came across this in some arbitrary blog I was going through, and thought it was worth sharing.

To commemorate her 69th birthday on October 1, actress/vocalist, Julie Andrews made a special appearance at Manhattan's Radio City Music Hall for the benefit of the AARP. One of the musical numbers she performed was "My Favorite Things" from the legendary movie "Sound Of Music". Here are the lyrics she used :

Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Cadillac's and cataracts and hearing aids and glasses,
Polident and Fixodent and false teeth in glasses,
Pacemakers, golf carts and porches with swings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the pipes leak, when the bones creak,
When the knees go bad, I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I don't feel so bad.

Hot tea and crumpets and corn pads for bunions,
No spicy hot food or food cooked with onions,
Bathrobes and heating pads and hot meals they bring,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Back pains, confused brains, and but keep on winnin'
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favorite things.

When the joints ache, when the hips break,
When the eyes grow dim,
Then I remember the great life I've had,
And then I don't feel so bad.

(Ms. Andrews received a standing ovation from the crowd that lasted over four minutes and repeated encores.)

The Future of Gadgets and Interfaces

2007-05-12T09:49:00.000+05:30

Somewhere in the middle of last semester, a video titled "The Future of Computing" popped up on our hostel LAN. Obviously some one had downloaded it from YouTube - and on searching I did find it there. The stuff shown is mind-blowing and even a gadget-centric person like me had never imagined something as wonderful as this. Incidentally, this is my first video-blog-post . . . symbolic, don't you think ?

One of the earliest applicants of this technology is Apple, in their maiden mobile phone effort - the Apple iPhone. If you haven't already seen the amazing features in the iPhone, take a look at this clip :

Makes you go "Ooooh!", doesn't it ?

Naak Se Ga Ja, Baar Baar Aaja Aaja

2007-05-09T21:06:00.000+05:30

You know Himesh is successful when

. . . you start singing 'Afsana banaa ke bhool na jaana' out of the blue for no rhyme (in my case 'with no rhyme' too) or reason

. . . a pink-floyd-is-god friend of yours who listens to nothing other than modern and classic rock starts crooning 'Ek baar aaja aaja aaja aaja aajaaa' and then curses himself for that

. . . you flip through 9 straight tv channels only to find that all of them are playing Himesh songs

. . . all six radio buttons in your car stereo set are playing the same Himesh song and you are forced to manually select Vividh Bharti

OTMTATST

2007-05-08T01:21:00.003+05:30

As with many people of my generation, I do a majority of my reading online. Some of my regular stops are rediff.com, economictimes.indiatimes.com, timesofindia.indiatimes.com, nytimes.com, newyorker.com, and of course wikipedia. Google.com itself qualifies as a stop, because that is the portal to many avenues. In fact, recently, as part of coursework, we had to submit a summary of any relevant and recent research paper. As I was scouring through a few of these papers, (pdfs obviously, and incidentally obtained through Google scholar) searching for a suitable and preferably easy one, I came across something funny. As you might know, every research paper has a section called 'References' at the end. One such paper had a similarly listing, and somewhere down the line was 'google.com'. Now, isn't that strange !

As I was saying, I read a lot online. Of late, I've started observing that I suffer from a new-age malady, the opens-too-many-tabs-at-the-same-time syndrome. Ever since Mozilla Firefox introduced tabs (which IE soon introduced too), there no longer is the cumbersome problem of having too many windows clustering the taskbar. Whenever there is a link to some new articles or information, I can very conveniently open it immediately in a new tab, as opposed to coming to that place later on.

Because of this, I tend to sometimes leave the original article unread and go on to read the offshoot. I also maniacally keep opening multiple tabs whenever I see newer links, which I feel might be worth a read. So much so that my Internet Explorer has crashed a few times. So now I limit myself to about 15 odd tabs. Opening so many tabs is still alright if I am going to read all what I have opened. But no ! Nowadays, I tire easily, and after some time I start feeling crushed under my own enthusiasm. Neither do I have the energy to read all the open stuff, nor do I have the heart to close it. So I have started hibernating my comp now, with all the tabs and the windows in minimized state. This continues for days on end. Whenever I want to check my mail or read some fresh news, I open a window anew, with tabs anew. It is the same old story. The stuff piles up, till one day the browser or the OS crashes. This actually is a relief for me because I know I never would have read all that stuff.

Strange malady, this is. It is time some doctor came up with a latin name for it.

Let's Go !

2007-05-05T23:10:00.000+05:30

It was 5.21 pm in the evening. My tuition class was over. I trooped out, weary and tired. My parents were going to pick me up at 5.30, so I had to wait until then. I stood by the roadside, at the usual spot. The sun had just set, and the colour in the sky was that wonderful mix of azure and orange that makes you feel wistful for no reason. There was a gentle breeze blowing, the kind that generally blows at 5.30 in the evening. My eyes were tired due to concentrating in class for such a long time and my face muscles were twitching in a tired sort of a way. The breeze was ruffling my hair the way a grandmother would fondle her grandchild. It was surreal. I watched the cars whizzing by, with black smoky trails following most of them. The murmur of the traffic, the occasional blaring of horns and the sounds of the few odd birds in the sky could be heard in the backdrop. As I said before, it was surreal.

The approaching road that would bring my parents' car had an undulating path. I stared at the point from where the cars were emerging one by one, like Ursula Andress from the sea. It was the same pattern. First, I would see the tires and the number plate. Then, slowly, the windshield would appear and simultaneously the tires would disappear as the car crossed the curve. And then the whole car. I kept looking at the same spot waiting for the car to arrive. It was 5.30 now, yet, no car. I kept looking at the cars. An Esteem, then a Zen, then 2 motorcycles, then an Ikon, then a rickshaw. I looked at the wrist watch again. It was 5.40 now. I reverted my gaze to the horizon of the road. Then, far in the distance, I saw it. Even though I could not see the inhabitants or the number plate, I recognized the car. I straightened my frame, all 6 feet 3 inches of it, and raised my arm to signal where I was. My eyes were fixed on the car, as it manoeuvred itself through the traffic, changing lanes so that it could come to where I was standing. I dropped my hand and took a step forward onto the road in anticipation. Suddenly, a rickshaw came to a screeching halt and stopped right in my face. I looked at it closely - it was a Garuda, a shared rickshaw. Ah ! Some idiotic passenger must have felt the need to get down immediately. I started walking around the rickshaw to go and sit in my car which was waiting just behind. As I was passing the side, I turned to the rickshawalla to give him an angry look. To my surprise, he was looking at me expectantly. I wondered to myself, what now ? You stop in my path and expect me to apologize ? I looked at the passengers. There was one girl, 2 ladies and 1 man, and all of them were looking at my expectantly too. Expecting me to do what, I wondered again. Then I realized that no one had got off the rickshaw. There was this moment, when I was looking at them and they were looking at me.

Then, I neatly stepped around the rickshaw in a dignified manner, sat down in the car, looked at my father and said, "Hmm. Lets go !"

Quotable Quote

2007-05-02T23:42:00.000+05:30

One day, as I sat
Sad and lonely and without a friend,
A voice came to me saying
"Cheer up,
Things could be worse".
So I cheered up,
And sure enough,
Things got worse.

(Rudyard Kipling)

And I agree with him . . .

2007-04-27T03:08:00.000+05:30

Last year, the government decided to increase the number of reserved seats in central government-run elite educational institutes like the Indian Institutes of Technology, Indian Institutes of Management and AIIMS by 27 per cent for the Other Backward Classes, taking reservations up to 50 per cent. Students on campus were upset and agitated. Rediff.com quoted Aman Jagannathan, 18, second year MBBS student at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences as saying :

"I know I am not saying anything illegal but I just want to be careful. I don't want to be known on as being against OBCs because I am not. I am just against the idea of reservation. I don't want to be misunderstood.

I am not against social justice but I feel merit should be appreciated. Reserve seats for those who don't have the economic means. Reserve seats for the children of those in the armed forces. Nobody will protest if you reserve seats for those who earn less than a lakh every year. Why should caste be the overarching factor? It's not my fault I was born a Brahmin."

And I agree with him . . .

I have so far chosen to remain dispassionate about the whole issue of reservations. There have been many friends of mine who written pageloads of stuff on why reservations are unfair and reflect regressive thinking and will ruin India . . . I am not saying they are wrong , and I am not saying they are totally right either . . . but I am a cynic, and I think, what is the point of all this . . . I think of the futility of raving seriously on such things.

As a certain Suresh Kamath says, "Reservation based on caste is going to divide us further. Reservation should be based on economic criteria alone. We should learn to forget our past and start looking at the future. What have today's children got to do with what some people did in the past ?"

On a lighter note, check out what this blogger had to say about the Machiavellian Villain behind this regressive step. I found it really hilarious !

Number Theory, Cryptography and some Humour

2007-04-12T02:16:00.000+05:30

I have my Number Theory exam tomorrow - and I had to start studying at some point of time - so I was going through some slides by a gentleman named William Stallings. There is a slideshow per chapter. At the beginning of each chapter, he quotes somebody. For the chapter on Euler's Thm and Fermat's Thm, he has quoted the following text, which I found so funny, that I had to put it up right here, right now.

The Devil said to Daniel Webster: "Set me a task I can't carry out, and I'll give you anything in the world you ask for."
Daniel Webster : "Fair enough. Prove that for n greater than 2, the equation a^n + b^n = c^n has no non-trivial solution in the integers."
They agreed on a three-day period for the labor, and the Devil disappeared.
At the end of three days, the Devil presented himself, haggard, jumpy, biting his lip.
Daniel Webster said to him, "Well, how did you do at my task ? Did you prove the theorem ?"
"Eh ? No . . . no, I haven't proved it."
"Then I can have whatever I ask for ? Money ? The Presidency ?"
"What ? Oh, that — of course. But listen ! If we could just prove the following two lemmas — "

- The Mathematical Magpie, Clifton Fadiman

- William Stallings, Cryptography and Network Security - 3/e

The Engineer's Dilemma

2007-04-06T14:17:00.000+05:30

The most confused person on earth is the third year B.Tech engineering student who is not very much interested in his branch. (Ladies, esp. feminists, please forgive me if do not say the polite "his or her", I am too lazy for that.) I have initiated this discussion with many of my ilk, and few disagree.

Let me define my ilk. We come in all sizes, shapes, weights and heights, and from amazing different geographical and cultural backgrounds, and can be classified into two main types. The first is the one who either had or thought he had a lot of interest in this particular field, and worked very hard to get into that branch in some institute which he thought was esteemed in the academia. The other is one (very much a like a friend of mine) who did nothing in his 11th and 12th (plus two, as some call it) and was so overwhelmed when he cleared AIEEE (which he thought was a tough exam to clear, but which apparently gives ranks to every person who cares to write it), that in a fit of "man!-now-that-i-have-got-admission-here-i-should-not-leave-it" took whatever he could get in the great institute.

Anyway, for people like us first year whizzes past us, and second year is like nirvana - we become enlightened in the sense that we know how disenlightened we were ! The horrible realization dawns upon us that what we thought was or would be interesting, is not interesting to us at all. There are others around us who absolutely love what they are doing and seem to find the subjects very interesting (like another friend of mine who grunts and yelps with orgasmic delight whenever he sees videos of rockets and aeroplanes). But we are the guys who take more interest in other things, which seem inane in the context and the course, but which would have been very helpful had we been doing something else. By the time we reach third year, the serious guys are already talking about scary things like MS, internship at engineering or software firms, "fundu" projects and the mother of all nightmares and the father of all nighthorses GATE-MTech.

We, however face the big dilemma - what should we do after we pass out from here ? A corresponding person pursuing a degree in medicine or law or any other major branch will never face this problem of choice. The moment he enrols himself in the medicine/law program, barring a few exceptional cases, he knows that he will be a doctor/lawyer in life. Not so for an engineer. We could do higher studies in a vast assortment of fields - engineering itself (within which also do we face so many choices that it makes our heads swim), law, management, etc, etc. Whew...

Take MS in the US for e.g. Choosing the field, and within the field the track, and then choosing the appropriate university and the program is very confusing, to say the least. As I am about to finish my third year, you can imagine the choices I am bombarded with !

All I can say is God help me ! And as I am an atheist, I doubt whether even God will help me. Darn !

Faux News

2007-02-28T05:49:00.000+05:30

One of my favourite sub-genres of humour is spoofing - news, brands / ads, characters, etc. I discovered this site called theonion.com which creates spoof news on a daily basis. I visit this site every now and then, and some of the articles over the years have been really hilarious. I haven't visited this site for quite some time. I was reminded of it, however, when I was reading some other blogs on the net.

Last year, I was one of the persons in charge of bringing out the daily newsletter for our fest. Running short of articles to fill up our newsletter, we thought of spoofing some ads that appear in the papers. This is what I am most proud of ;) -

Visitation of a Verbose Verbiage

2007-02-26T04:05:00.000+05:30

I do not know how many of you have seen 'V for Vendetta'. It is a 2006 film with screenplay by the same guys who created 'The Matrix' and it stars Natalie Portman and a masked character. They meet very early in the movie, and he introduces himself to her in these words :

Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose so let me simply add that it’s my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.

Whew... ! Needless to say, I was tempted to commit it to memory !

Risk-management

2007-02-23T17:16:00.000+05:30

Today, we had our "Principles of Management" paper. There were a couple of problems based on the 'Pay-off' matrix and the 'Opportunity-Loss' matrix. I just wanted to find out whether both will give the same answer, given the probabilistic distribution of each event. While going through some pdfs, I came across this :

In decision-making under pure uncertainty, the decision maker has absolutely no knowledge, not even about the likelihood of occurrence for any state of nature. In such situations, the decision-maker's behavior is purely based on his/her attitude toward the unknown. Some of these behaviors are optimistic, pessimistic, and least regret, among others.

Optimist: The glass is half-full.
Pessimist: The glass is half-empty.
Manager: The glass is twice as large as it needs to be.

Optimists are right; so are the pessimists. It is up to you to choose which you will be. The optimist sees opportunity in every problem; the pessimist sees problem in very opportunity. Both optimists and pessimists contribute to our society. The optimist invents the airplane and the pessimist the parachute.

Nice, eh ? Especially the last line.

The GRiP of the Wealthy

2007-02-23T17:02:00.000+05:30

I am an MBA aspirant, hence, read a lot of business and corporate news. I read articles on rich Indian companies and rich Indian people. I read interviews of and articles on the various owners, CEOs and MDs of Indian companies. I can't help noticing that more than 95 % of the richest guys are basically from Gujarat, Rajasthan or Punjab. Basically, the Indian corporate scenario is ruled by a combine of Marwadis, Gujaratis, Sindhis, Punjabis and Parsis. These five communities control most of large companies. Not only that, a majority of the high posts in most MNCs as well as other companies are with this guys.

I have opened in an alongside tab, the Forbes 2006 list.

The list goes like this : (the ones in caps are not from the GRiP !)

l n mittal
m ambani
a ambani
A PREMJI(nb : gujarati speaking! )
k p singh
s mittal
k birla
t tanti
R CHANDRA(I don.t know where he is from !)
p mistry
a agarwal
s & r ruia
a godrej
SHIV NADAR(Tamil Nadu, I think)
i jain
d sanghvi
r bajaj
so on and so forth.....

Basically, Mittals, Birlas, Ambanis, Agarwals, Singhs and Jains rule the roost.

A favourite poem of mine

2007-02-23T16:57:00.000+05:30

While in school, we had two textbooks for English. One was the Radiant Reader (RR) and the other was the Bal Bharti (BB). These textbooks used to comprise of an assortment of short stories and poems. Among all the poems, the ones I liked the most were Daffodils and Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast. There was also that poem "Home they brought the warrior dead" which was quite nice.

Surprisingly, the poem on Colonel Fazackerley is not very well known. I think it is a wonderful and wonderfully funny poem. I googled for it, and here it is. From what I remember, the 2nd para begins like this
"On the very first evening, while waiting to dine,
The Colonel was feeling rested and fine,"
and, I don't think the fourth para was included in the textbook.

COLONEL FAZACKERLEY BUTTERWORTH-TOAST
by Charles Causley

Colonel Fazackerley Butterworth-Toast
Bought an old castle complete with a ghost,
But someone or other forgot to declare
To Colonel Fazack that the spectre was there.

On the very first evening, while waiting to dine,
The Colonel was taking a fine sherry wine,
When the ghost, with a furious flash and a flare,
Shot out of the chimney and shivered, 'Beware!'

Colonel Fazackerley put down his glass
And said, 'My dear fellow, that's really first class!
I just can't conceive how you do it at all.
I imagine you're going to a Fancy Dress Ball?'

At this, the dread ghost made a withering cry.
Said the Colonel (his monocle firm in his eye),
'Now just how you do it, I wish I could think.
Do sit down and tell me, and please have a drink.'

The ghost in his phosphorous cloak gave a roar
And floated about between ceiling and floor.
He walked through a wall and returned through a pane
And backed up the chimney and came down again.

Said the Colonel, 'With laughter I'm feeling quite weak!'
(As trickles of merriment ran down his cheek).
'My house-warming party I hope you won't spurn.
You MUST say you'll come and you'll give us a turn!'

At this, the poor spectre - quite out of his wits -
Proceeded to shake himself almost to bits.
He rattled his chains and he clattered his bones
And he filled the whole castle with mumbles and moans.

But Colonel Fazackerley, just as before,
Was simply delighted and called out, 'Encore!'
At which the ghost vanished, his efforts in vain,
And never was seen at the castle again.

'Oh dear, what a pity!' said Colonel Fazack.
'I don't know his name, so I can't call him back.'
And then with a smile that was hard to define,
Colonel Fazackerley went in to dine.

Guest Columnist : Takla

2007-02-23T16:55:00.000+05:30

I thought I would display some articles that I liked in my blog. This one, written in some other blog by a friend of mine called Takla (It is not that he suffers from premature baldness and we make fun of him. It so happened that when we all first met him, he had just returned from Tirupati with a shiny scalp as blessings, and since we weren't very familiar with his name - Anantharaman is quite some name - the name Takla stuck. In fact, many students in our campus don't even know him by his real name. Sample this piece of conversation.

Someone : "Hey, do you know anything about the robotics event to be held ?"
Me : "Why don't you go and meet Anantharaman ?"
that Someone : "Who Anantharaman ?"
Me : "Arre, don't you know him ? 3rd year mech.. I think I saw you talking with him the other day."
that same Someone : "No.. who ?"
Me : "We all call him Takla ... well how do I describe him ?"
Someone : "Ohhh.. Takklllaa .. I thought that was his name... so his name is Anantharaman is it.. ?" )

Anyway, here's the piece.

"Ah! Home at last". This was the only thought that raced through my mind as the train hurtled past the final stations of the journey. I was only too aware of the fact that my mood was going to change drastically in the next few minutes. "Oh! Home at last?" was to be the updated version of my thoughts, and sadly it hasn't changed a bit over the past few days. My mother had arrived at the station. The conversation was quite normal till we arrived at the parking lot. Till then it had been quite harmless, seasoned with occasional remarks regarding changes in my anatomy over the past semester. It was only when we were comfortably seated in the car that she looked me in the eye, and asked THE QUESTION (Er.. you know what they are bound to ask the day after your exam ends). I quickly browsed through the gallery of my 'ready – to - wear expressions'. I couldn't find any of the latest 'fraudo' looks. So I decided to execute the backup, which was a part of the ' winter 2004 ' compassion show. It was of a pale hue, and made me look like a quarter quintal of cow dung. But it served the purpose and some temporary, well-earned mercy was shown. Phew! That was close. Unfortunately this was only the beginning. The toughest times were yet to come. They were those moments in the middle of some arbitrary conversations when I knew that if I were to utter just one more word, the outcome would be an hour's sermon on how to revamp my CGPA. I would have to spontaneously change the topic from, "The funniest professor on campus" to "Hey! That dog's pissing on our car!". The first time I was successfully caught off guard was over dinner yesterday night. I was explaining how beautiful our campus was, to my grand mom, and the freedom that we were given here. "Are also allowed outside at night?" "Oh! Yes we are!" was my prompt reply. "Then, do you roam around when it's dark?" Engulfed in a fit of machoism, I replied "Oh yes we do!"(With due apologies to manu and venky). That was enough for her to conclude that I missed the first lecture frequently, to which I pleaded guilty after a few minutes of desperate attempts at defending my cause. The outcome can be assumed by anyone who has read this far. Please pray for me guys, till the results arrive. Jai Yanthra Dharma!"

Airport Blues !

2007-02-23T16:54:00.001+05:30

A few days back, I had taken a flight from Bombay. I was accompanied by a friend of mine, N, and while we were wandering about in the lobby, we met another friend of ours, A, who was basically from Ahmedabad, and who would be flying on the same flight as ours. This was not a coincidence really, because college was reopening the next day. Soon it was time to board, and we had to walk through the security check. I am very particular as to what I carry in my handbag - batteries, nail-cutters, pointed objects, matchboxes, anything that can be construed to be harmful. Those who travelled by air in the 15-20 months following 9/11 will remember the extreme precaution taken by most airlines.

Next in line was N. His first handbag, a backpack (Jansport if a remember aright), came through clean. There was apparently some problem with his second bag. The airline official asked N to open the bag so that he could sift through the contents. The main compartment did not reveal anything even remotely suspicious, much to the airline official's surprise. N was giving me looks like - "Phaltu mein tang karte hai... ". The guy then opened the side compartment. Out tumbled 1 plastic box, 1 plastic pouch and 2 deodorant tins. The plastic box contained, much to my disbelief, 2 long thin razor sharp cutters, 1 tester, a couple of screwdrivers, something that resembled a time-bomb - that too digital, lots of wires and an assortment of small electronic objects. (At this point, it is important to note that N was studying Electronics in our college !)

I blurted out, without thinking, grinning from ear-to-ear, "Dude, you can assemble an entire bomb here !". (A few years ago my dad had the chance to visit Turkey, and since at that time foreign good-quality deodorants weren't available in India, he purchased quite a few of them. Since many of them were quite expensive, he innocently kept them with him, in his handbag. At the security check, he was held aside. As many of you might be knowing, deodorant cans are inflammable. At that time my dad didn't know that. The Turkish officer wasn't very fluent in English. And my dad decided to play it safe by keeping a poker face throughout, as if he wasn't understanding anything. The officer couldn't fathom why somebody would want to carry so many deo cans in a flight, unless it was to blow them up midair. He tried asking my father the same. Blank face. Finally, the Turk took my dad into another room, took a lighter, held it alight in front of the deo can, and sprayed the deo through the flame. He then turned to my dad and said "See - fire !". My dad stilled maintained his poker face. The guy got exasperated, and let off my dad, as a hopeless case ! )

Anyway, the airline guy looked up at N with a look that said "?". N started explaining, ofcourse. Meanwhile, both me and A, or J- as we fondly call him, went a little ahead and laughed our heads off. Later, N joined us, looking very sheepish. It turns out that the thingamujjig was an ammeter-cum-voltmeter, and that N didn't know about the explosive nature of deo cans. Luckily for him, he got to keep the deos, the razors went straight into the dustbin, and the remaining kit was given to the steward for safekeeping for the length of the flight, with instructions to hand them over to N after the flight landed safely at the other end !

That, was one hilarious experience.

Feet larger than a Foot

2007-02-23T16:52:00.001+05:30

I have something in common with Bipasha Basu and Esha Deol. All three of us have large feet. (We have something else in common too - we are all muscular !)

The size of my feet (thankfully it has stopped growing now) is 14. It had shot beyond 12 when I was in 8th itself. This has led to a series of unusual predicaments for me. Initially, when I was in school and brown leather shoes were compulsory, I had to make do, till I passed out of school, with a really old pair of shoes whose leather had stretched enough to fit me. However, I could not find a pair of sports shoes or sandals of my size in the whole of Bombay and Pune. As far as I know, as of now, footwear beyond size 12 isn't available in most places. It wasn't as if you couldn't get shoes at all - you did, but either they were of bad quality or they were custom-made and ugly !

There are only two advantages of having gargantuan sized feet. Firstly, the chances of your footwear getting stolen are very tiny. Who will want to steal my sandals - they are double the size of most sandals, and occupy an unbelievably large amount of space. Secondly, large feet provide free temporary air-conditioned sitting lounges.

A few years ago, me and my family had gone to Simla, and on our way, we stopped for a couple of days at Delhi. After seeing Lodhi gardens, India gate, the Lotus temple, etcetara, we had nothing else to do. So we decided to see the real Delhi. We went to Palika bazaar, Nerula's and just walked around Connaught place and Ring road. We were tired and just wanted to sit for sometime before making our way back to our hotel. Then, I came up with an economically viable solution ! So confidant was I of not getting footwear of my size, (after years of shoe-searching), that we went to the nearest shoes store, and asked for shoes of my size. Now, the shop keeper wasn't willing to admit immediately that he didn't have shoes of my size. (they always do that.. and we wanted to capitalize on that) So, they pretended to search for shoes, in the meantime trying to engage our interest in other things. Blah, blah, blah ... basically we got what we wanted - the comfort of a soft seat and an a/c. The rest is history ... !

README

2007-02-23T16:46:00.000+05:30

There are different styles of writing blogs. After reading quite a few blogs, I think I can classify blogs.

1. Intimate Personal Diary blogs
2. General blogs with a mixture of personal thoughts, quoted articles and other stuff
3. Information blogs
4. Quiz blogs
5. I-think-I-am-the-next-Bertrand-Russell blogs

I hate the first and last kind of blogs. I sincerely hope mine doesn't fall under either category !

The Inauguration

2007-02-23T16:40:00.000+05:30

Nowadays, I have started reading a few of the many blogs on the internet. After having read many-a-blog, I have come to the conlusion that besides being very entertaining, they are also very informative. I had started my own amateurish efforts at blogging about a year back. This was what I had said in my first post : "I thought that even i should have a blog of my own - blogger / blogspot is owned by Google - so it was an automatic choice ! Funny, my life revolves around Google. The start page for my browser is google.com. I use gmail for my mail, orkut for socializing, google-earth (extensively) for looking at maps and studying roads, gtalk sometimes, and now - blogger !"

However, I didn't quite like the name of the link to the blog. It was very unimaginative, I thought. So, I have found a better one. One that describes me a lot. I guess, people who know me, even those who have known me for only minutes maybe, will find this title quite apt !