Dangling conversations

Mad Men India

2012-01-31T02:31:00.000-08:00

A briefing at Sterling Cooper India

Drona Dhopeshwar(Creative Director): (banging the table) Our planners believe there is a paradigm shift in the market.

Pankti Oswal(Copywriter): (lighting a lights cigarette and then taking a deep drag)Isn't it what we were told last briefing. What's with the paradigm?? No permanent address, aa?? Te he!

Drona: (sipping on chai with a contemplative look)Po da!

Sarvanan Ramanuj(Art Director): (legs resting on the table) Chee! Thoo! You cant freelance as a bulk SMS forward sender with jokes like this!

Drona: Anyways, what I've done is asked Servicing to discuss it with Client and work on a new brief.

Sarvanan: Accha! Jaddi sileney gaye hai! Ha ha ha ha ha

Drona: Eh?

Pankti: What Sar meant was Chaddi! So how do you suggest we work on a new campaign? We know the brief is not going to change!

Drona: Good call, punk. The brief may not change, but circumstances have. We cant get away with having cricketers as brand ambassadors anymore. And yet we have the IPL, which our clients believe will help viewers forget the trauma of having to wake up every morning last winter, only to watch India lose every game in Australia.

Sarvanan: Maybe there is a moral here. Maybe we should go back to film stars as brand ambassadors. What about Rajni?

Drona: (banging the table) I think we've got something there. If we endorse Rajni, the results of the cricket match dont matter anyway.

Pankti: And what's more, we have enough of Rajni jokes to work with for a month long campaign.

Sarvanan: Eggsactly! Lets first publish a set of visiting cards, and mail it to people.

Pankti: Okay?

Sarvanan: Dont you get it? Rajni wont give you visiting cards. His cards will visit you. Ha ha ha ha!

Pank: Oh my gawd!! Ha ha ha ha!

Drona: ha ha ha! And then, his card should only say "I'll call you" and have his name on it. What say?

Sar: ha ha ha ha!

Pankti: Ha ha ha ha!

Drona: Ha ha ha ha!

(Three hours later)

Pankti: I think this calls for a party. What a day!

Sarvanan: Yes! It's time to visit some old monks. In the name of Rajni!

Pankti: Man, Rajni is the life of a party, even when he doesn't attend it? Ha ha ha

Drona & Sarvanan: ha ha ha ha

And the three creatives live happily ever after. At a local bar. Till the next briefing.

Disclaimer: The above actions should not be imitated at work.

Fast Forwards: These are a few of my favourite things

2012-01-16T08:52:00.000-08:00

There's this urban myth about Julie Andrews having sung this rendition of "These are a few of my favourite things", when she turned 70 a few years back. Why I think it's an urban myth is because I haven't been able to trace it to a reliable news source. But then, whoever wrote this piece has done a fantastic job. I really wish I'd written this one.

Botox 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 favourite things.
Cadillac's and cataracts, 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 favourite things.
When the pipes leak, When the bones creak,
When the knees go bad,
I simply remember my favourite 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 favourite things...

Back pain, confused brains and no need for sinnin',
Thin bones and fractures and hair that is thinnin',
And we won't mention our short shrunken frames,
When we remember our favourite 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.

Resume Enclosed

2012-01-09T02:21:00.000-08:00

I used to have a thriving business during the placement season at the Bokissam Ananthapadmanathan Institute of Technology and Science (B.A.I.T.S). And there were two reasons for that. I never considered myself eligible for placements, owing to my innate desire to devote myself to a detailed study of subjects from my earlier semesters (technically known as ordinances), like Electronic Power Instrumentation Circuits(E.P.I.C), Digital Electronic Signal Processing (D.E.S.P.O), Computer User Network Theory (C.U.N.T.) and some other crucial subjects on personality development like The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, and The Argumentative Indian by my debating pal from Cal.

The other reason was since I was far above the competition, my batchmates were more inclined to share some confidential information with me, like “Extra-curricular kya hota hai, be******d??” and “Career Objective kya likhoon, bo***i kay!”

So good was I at churning out resumes, that I’d earned the moniker ‘CV’ RAMAN. And the money was so good that I haven’t had to write a CV for myself till now, nearly seven years (okay five in my case) after college, when my old clients (a.k.a my batchmates) started sharing my trade secrets with their cousins, bhanjaas and their frnds from Gudgaon, yaar! So I’m now faced with the challenge of writing one for myself. But a bigger challenge loomed. How do I present my CV writing skills in my own CV? That’s a bit like asking a modest Hrishikesh Kanitkar to write about his skills of disappearing from the international scene after being the blue-eyed boy who hit a four in the third last over of the seventh final between India vs Pakistan at the third edition of the Coca Cola cup, celebrating Bangladesh’s second independence (first from India, and then from …wait for it….Pakistan). So before we digress and speak about the irony of the finalists of the Coca Cola Cup in Bangladesh, let’s resume (Nudge! Wink !) the discussion of my resume.

But before I begin, let me elucidate that this is my resume, so press Ctrl C + Ctrl V at your own peril, because it takes a lot of panache to carry off a resume like the one you’ll see below.

Name : C.V.S.R.N.D. RAMAN

About Me: I’m a Go-getter. And that does not limit to going and getting you your cup of filter coffee.

Academic Accomplishments: Engineering. With honour.

Institutes of learning:

BE from B.A.I.T.S, Dharmavaram
State Board from RK Public School, Dispur (not the one of MMS fame)

Objective: Yes, indeed. I’m mostly objective, unless of course Sachin is given out LBW despite an obvious inside edge.

Work Experience: 7 years of consulting bright engineers about their job prospects. It is said that their future was in my hands. In fact, I could give it to them in writing.

Extra-curricular Activities:

1. Represented School and College across several age categories at Kho-Kho with distinction.

2. Represented College across South India in Twenty Questions( also known as Tom, Dick and Harry at Bangalore and Engineering colleges at South Canara)

3. Roped in several Fortune 500 companies like McDonalds, Indian Oil, Tata Motors and Waag-Bakri Chai as sponsors for college events.

4. Won several Story Telling competitions since childhood.

Referrals

Enclosed in this mail is a document that collates all the Thank You mails for all successful conversions of Resumes into Jobs, and sometimes careers.

For interview calls, please write to CV_Raman@sachinroxmailbox.com

Too Important to Fail

2011-12-24T02:14:00.000-08:00

Dear Tax-payer,

I realise you deserve to know why I seek a bailout from the country for my now bankrupt Social Network company. I understand you feel the pinch when I’ve sought a Rs.5,42,325.25 bailout package from various financial institutions. But my reasons are too many. And too critical to the future of the country’s economy. Let me explain.

Because of my current financial crisis, I haven’t been able to tip the waiter at the local Darshini where I’ve been having my daily plate of Idly-Vada with an extra bowl of Sambar and two Filter Coffees. I know it’s hard for you to imagine this, but it is not a hypothetical scenario, dear Tax-payer. In fact, I’ve only been eating single Idly, and half cup Filter Coffee, at the self-service section of the Darshini, where I stand and eat. It has also helped me avoid the waiter by simply maneuvering into the crowd that’s waiting to collect their orders by the kitchen window. Because of the plummeting tip collections, our man has had to give up on his daily khamba of Old Monk rum, and now settles for a relatively cheaper quarter of Khodays. You do realise that’s a big dip in India’s economy if people were to replace their bottle of Old Monk, one litre pet bottle of Thumbs Up and a full plate of Chicken 65 with just two 90ml glasses of Khodays, a wedge of lime and a bowl of peanuts (not even the Rs. 5 Haldiram’s Masala peanuts, mind you). Good heavens!

And that’s not the only reason why I seek the Rs. 6, 17, 821. 72 bailout. The attentive reader may have noticed that my losses have increased by a full Rs. 75,496 and some change since I began my plea. Well you see, in those few hours, (err, I’m a slow writer, a slower editor, and the slowest thinker in the SEC C category of failed upstarts identified by the Balkampet branch of the LocalTrust Bank), the INR (sounds better than the Indian Rupee, no?) has fallen against the dollar, the Sensex has crashed more often than the fake windows version at the local internet parlour, and petrol prices have temporarily taken an un-Hindu rate of growth with a Rs. 3.14 per litre hike. But we digress.

With all the financial pressures, I’ve given up on my plans of buying Apple’s latest tablet, and instead I’m buying the relatively cheaper ones manufactured by Dr. Tirumalsetti’s Pharma. I’ve stopped buying songs at iTunes, and now only listen to my own tunes. I also made the supreme sacrifice of giving up on Bollywood movies at multiplexes, and instead resort to watching free downloads of movies produced in the Chinatown district of Kolkata. Don’t even get me started on how it would alter the financial fabric of the country if I was to incorporate these changes in my lifestyle in the long-term.

You may now want to know how I managed to lose it all before seeking a Rs. 7, 06, 659. 53 bailout. Well, that’s a fair question. Now let’s start at the very beginning. It all began during those days when the times were better, when people had more money in their pockets, and Orkut was still the most happening technology innovation in town. That is when I decided to make a pioneering foray in the Sports-Entertainment Industry by launching the Indian Book Cricket League. And going by the number of followers I got on the Orkut page, I was convinced that this would be the next financial page turner, and David Fincher would possibly have to buy the movie rights for my autobiography, which was due to release in the holiday season of 2007. Being a bit of an Amay Khurasiya of the Book Cricket world in my playing days, I was as confident as the aforementioned French Cricket legend that it wouldn’t have been too difficult for me to sell the idea to venture capitalists and private equity funds. But then suddenly, I got a legal notice from Cricket Authorities who believed they owned the name Cricket. And another one from another finance company in Mauritius, who believed I was giving the Pakistani Bookies in their employment a bad name, owing to the use of the word Book. And then, after the financial downturn that’s followed ever since, I couldn’t even afford to buy the latest version of MS Office, never mind hiring the services of an accountant, or a lawyer. That's when I decided to wind up operations, and have been surviving on the LIKES of fans on my Facebook page.

I could still go into financial details, but then I strongly believe that while a clever man does solve a problem, it takes a wise one to avoid it. So appealing to your good sense and wisdom, dear Tax-payer, let’s just agree to help me out with my finances with a Rs. 8, 97, 231. 25 bailout and forget this entire episode.

Yours Sincerely,
Failed Social Network Expert, and currently a consultant to owners of pages and communities on Facebook.

All about Whittling and verse

2011-12-13T21:16:00.000-08:00

Never found a better version of a beginners guide to something. Now doesn't it inspire you to pick up a pocket knife yourself?

The Yankee boy, before he’s sent to school,
Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool,
The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye
Turns, while he hears his mother’s lullaby;

His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it,
Then leaves no stone unturned till he can whet it;
And in the education of the lad
No little part that implement hath had.
His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings
A growing knowledge of material things.

Projectiles, music, and the sculptor’s art,
His chestnut whistle and his shingle dart,
His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod,
Its sharp explosion and rebounding wad,
His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone
That murmurs from his pumpkin-stalk trombone,
Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed
His bow, his arrow of a feathered reed,
His wind-mill, raised the passing breeze to win,
His water-wheel, that turns upon a pin;
Or, if his father lives upon the shore,
You’ll see his ship, “beam ends upon the floor,”
Full rigged, with raking masts, and timbers stanch,
And waiting, near the wash-tub, for a launch.

Thus, by his genius and his jack-knife driven,
Ere long he’ll solve you any problem given;
Make any jim-crack, musical or mute,
A plow, a couch, an organ, or a flute;
Make you a locomotive or a clock,
Cut a canal, or build a floating-dock,
Or lead forth Beauty from a marble block—
Make any thing, in short, for sea or shore,
From a child’s rattle to a seventy-four;—
Make it, said I?—ay! when he undertakes it,
He’ll make the thing and the machine that makes it.

And when the thing is made—whether it be
To move on earth, in air, or on the sea;
Whether on water, o’er the waves to glide,
Or, upon land to roll, revolve, or slide;
Whether to whirl or jar, to strike or ring,
Whether it be a piston or a spring,
Wheel, pulley, tube sonorous, wood or brass,
The thing designed shall surely come to pass;
For, when his hand’s upon it, you may know
That there’s go in it, and he’ll make it go.
- John Pierpont

Baraka: The Film

2011-11-18T00:41:00.000-08:00

I really wanted to review this one. But one can't truly describe a film that has no apparent script in words. So this is the best I could so. Enjoy!

Baraka (fullscreen) from Mikel Àngel Rotger (mlkconcept) on Vimeo.

God Tweets

2011-11-16T04:18:00.000-08:00

On the 94,612,288,345,980th day, I created a twitter account. And thought it was good

What all do I need to do just to boost the number of followers. #only176200281followerssofar

Don’t blame me for your problems. It takes millions of years to create fossils. #Petrolcrisis

Sharon Osborne. It wasn’t your dad who created Canni-bus. Say it right!

Now for my favourite reality show – Life. #MUHAHAHA

I’m bored of tweeting. Let’s try creating a facebook account now.

I’m getting bored here. Lets create some new religions.

Hey. You think all I do is judge you people down there. I have a life!

Stop writing so many books in my name. I’m losing count. #Religions

When he came up with relativity, Einstien was playing dice – God.

Nietzsche is dead – God.

Damn it! I’m not the one batting at Eden Gardens! And no, I’m much taller than 5’4”.

What gave you the impression that I’d like to be woken up by bad singing on Sunday mornings?

Fast Forwards: You know you are an ICSE Product when...

2011-11-01T01:06:00.000-07:00

1) randomly using words/phrases such as 'sooth', 'thou art', 'wherewithal' etc. is completely normal in 9th and 10th

2) you go to junior college and become best buddies with another ICSE kid, even if he's from the school you hated all your life until then

3) you are the only one who understands the concept of 'reading time' in an exam

4) you memorized 36 chapters for your hindi paper, but to this day have trouble with constructing a paragraph in formal hindi

5) you went for tuitions for every conceivable subject on the planet - English, Hindi, Comps, Science, History, Geography, Maths.. and maybe even SUPW

6) you actually understood what SUPW was.. and when you read the above post.. you thought, 'Ohhh that's right, we had that shit too'

7) you went to CBSE/State board after ICSE, looked at the english textbook and thought to yourself.. 'man, 2nd graders at my school could've aced this rubbish'

8) even the peons and the housekeeping staff at school spoke better English than most of your Junior College/College profs

9) your Annual Day/ Sports Day Parades were more organised than the rest of your life

10) your Hindi teacher often had to resort to English to explain the 'nuances' of the language to you

11) some of the chicks in your school were hotter than the current Miss India

12) your school grilled you so hard that the Boards were the only exam that you studied most for in life... and will always stay that way

13) you look at what's being taught in your college intro chem course and you go.. 'wait a minute, didn't I do all this in the 8th grade?'

14) in Junior College/College, you were considered a snob, and you loved it

15) at least one of your friends was driving his own car by the time you were in the 10th grade

16) you preserve your copy of Merchant of Venice/ Julius Caesar and Pageant of Poems, even if you're never going to read it again

17) you scowl when anyone asks you to help him in English and you think, "God, thank God I was in ICSE"

18) You are likely to share this with every one from school

Wall Street Responds

2011-10-23T06:38:00.000-07:00

The man in Wall Street will never take the streets in protest of all the demonstrations witnessed just outside his work place. What he may take however is your job. Here's a mail doing the rounds, written by a Wall Streeter who is clearly agitated by what he's seen -

We are Wall Street. It’s our job to make money. Whether it’s a commodity, stock, bond, or some hypothetical piece of fake paper, it doesn’t matter. We would trade baseball cards if it were profitable. I didn’t hear America complaining when the market was roaring to 14,000 and everyone’s 401k doubled every 3 years. Just like gambling, its not a problem until you lose. I’ve never heard of anyone going to Gamblers Anonymous because they won too much in Vegas.

Well now the market crapped out, & even though it has come back somewhat, the government and the average Joes are still looking for a scapegoat. God knows there has to be one for everything. Well, here we are.

Go ahead and continue to take us down, but you’re only going to hurt yourselves. What’s going to happen when we can’t find jobs on the Street anymore? Guess what: We’re going to take yours. We get up at 5am & work till 10pm or later. We’re used to not getting up to pee when we have a position. We don’t take an hour or more for a lunch break. We don’t demand a union. We don’t retire at 50 with a pension. We eat what we kill, and when the only thing left to eat is on your dinner plates, we’ll eat that.

For years teachers and other unionized labor have had us fooled. We were too busy working to notice. Do you really think that we are incapable of teaching 3rd graders and doing landscaping? We’re going to take your cushy jobs with tenure and 4 months off a year and whine just like you that we are so-o-o-o underpaid for building the youth of America. Say goodbye to your overtime and double time and a half. I’ll be hitting grounders to the high school baseball team for $5k extra a summer, thank you very much.

So now that we’re going to be making $85k a year without upside, Joe Mainstreet is going to have his revenge, right? Wrong! Guess what: we’re going to stop buying the new 80k car, we aren’t going to leave the 35 percent tip at our business dinners anymore. No more free rides on our backs. We’re going to landscape our own back yards, wash our cars with a garden hose in our driveways. Our money was your money. You spent it. When our money dries up, so does yours.

The difference is, you lived off of it, we rejoiced in it. The Obama administration and the Democratic National Committee might get their way and knock us off the top of the pyramid, but it’s really going to hurt like hell for them when our fat a**es land directly on the middle class of America and knock them to the bottom.

We aren’t dinosaurs. We are smarter and more vicious than that, and we are going to survive. The question is, now that Obama & his administration are making Joe Mainstreet our food supply…will he? and will they?

Why I Stopped Tweeting

2011-10-21T03:19:00.000-07:00

Best expressed in a tune made famous by the man who never grew up -

It's close to midnight, 140 characters lurking on your screen
Under the moonlight, you see a tweet that almost makes you scream
You want to tweet but another tweet appears before you make it
You start to retweet, as horror looks you right between the eyes
You're paralyzed

'Cause this is Twitter, Twitter site
And no one's gonna save you from the Twit about strike
You know its Twitter, Twitter site
You're losing a good life inside the killer Twitter site

You follow dumb blonds, and geeks who don’t really have a life
You slowly realise, that tweeting won’t really get you a wife,
You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination,
Back on your screen, more tweets upload and add to grime
You're out of time

'Cause this is Twitter, Twitter site
And no one's gonna save you from the Twit about strike
You know its Twitter, Twitter site
You're losing a good life inside the killer Twitter site

Homecoming of an Engineer

2011-10-11T05:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Parent,

On behalf of the Bokissam Ananthapadmanathan Institute of Technology and Science (B.A.I.T.S), we congratulate you on the acquisition of your very own in-house Engineer. We know it’s a labour of a few years’ sacrifice on your part, and a few lakhs of rupees which were duly invested during the maturing phase of your Engineer, which included buying everything from Study books, Macbooks, and Smartphones with Facebook. But now, after the graduation ceremony, you can take home your very own Engineer for a few months of happy returns – a privilege enjoyed only by parents of a bonafide Engineering Graduate.

You’ll notice the New & Improved bits the minute he steps in. When he deftly slips out of those priceless sneakers without even removing the laces. We know it’ll shock you, and send you into fits of rage, but then we must implore you to take a deep breath and remind yourself that while you may be done paying for your kid’s education, you are still left to pay up for your banker’s kid’s college. And you’ll also admit to the fact that you cannot just ignore that act of nonchalance from your Engineer. It’s a skill they pick up at college, and a skill that’ll hold them in good stead when they start working for the IT Company, which will send them the employment offer letters precisely 8 months and 17 days from today.

In another two days, you may notice that your Engineer is hardly noticed. He is fast asleep when you leave for work. He is never at home when you return. After dinner is served, he quietly heads to the study, to catch the latest episode of the documentary called the ‘Big Bang Theory’. And he quietly polishes off the leftover food in the refrigerator every night. You may find it odd, but it’s a habit that's been inculcated during the four relentless years in a hostel.

A week later, you may find that your Engineer is also given to mood swings. After studying the trends among the three batches of graduates from B.A.I.T.S, we can attribute such behavioural patterns to the following reasons:
Being asked about his MBA preparation
Being asked about when he’ll start earning
Being asked about what he studies online every night
Being asked to help around the house
Facing rejection for a friend request he sent to a girl on Facebook

A month later, you may find that he’s even more moody than ever before. Again, there are some new considerations:
Does your Engineer get enough of pocket money to catch a new movie at IMAX every Friday?
Does your Engineer get enough pocket money to go out drinking with his buddies every Saturday?
Does your Engineer get enough pocket money to pay his previous month’s phonebill?
Does your Engineer get enough pocket money?

Finally, nine months later, when he does get posted to a new city for his job, he may probably indulge in tantrums every time you call him. But are you surprised? Your Engineer is setting foot on the real world for the first time in his life. He can’t meet his needs by sulking alone. Imagine having to spend your own money for four to five bottles of beer every night, barely a month after you’ve started earning? And besides, that would eventually solve the problem of over-consumption, which may have been one of your earlier concerns.

It’s surprising isn’t it? After having endured him for those 259 days from the time he was done with college till the time he got a job, you may still be surprised how he figured it all out within a month at the work place. Well, that’s how your Graduate has been engineered. His life falls in place, normally at the very last minute for your Engineer.

Resignation letter in Rhyme

2011-10-03T23:23:00.000-07:00

Found this online. And I must say, the employers of this creative employee must be very proud of themselves if they could inspire an employee to write this:

The name is good, the brand is big,
But the work I do is that of a pig.
The work or the brand; what is my way?
I don’t know if I should stay.

To work, they have set their own way,
Nobody will care to hear what I say,
My will be NULL, they wont change their way,
I don’t know if I should stay.

The project is in a critical stage
But to do good work, this is the age
This dilemma is killing me day by day
I don’t know if I should stay.

The money is good, the place is great,
But the development is at a very small rate,
Should I go for the work, or wait for pay,
I don’t know if I should stay!

The managers don’t know what they talk,
The team doesn’t know where they walk,
That’s a bad situation, what say?
I don’t know if I should stay.

I can go to any other place,
But what if I get the same disgrace,
I can’t keep switching day by day,
I don’t know if I should stay.

The negatives are more, the positives are less
Then why have this unnecessary mess,
No more will I walk their way,
It’s all done, I won’t stay.

Open Letter to Closed Minds

2011-09-15T10:01:00.000-07:00

Abey Oye!

We’re from Hyderabad, or the city that’s as old as the Vindhyas. We’ve gone to all cities looking for jobs, but we simply come back to Hyderbad. Or Secunderabad. Or if we can’t deal with the traffic at the twin cities, we move to Cyberabad. Our families think it’s insane for us to let go of the opportunity of working in Delhi, Bombay, or even single-male conducive cities like Bangalore, but still choose to live with them. But we cant help but continue living in Hyderabad and laugh at everything else. Let me explain.

We Hyderabadis speak any language with an accent borrowed from the Kakatiyas, the Bahmanis, the Shahis, the Mughals, the Nizams, the English, the Socialists, the Call-Centre trainers and everyone else who has cared to enjoy our hospitality. And with it, comes an attitude of “taking light” of any situation. Which is possibly why we are always able to see the lighter side of life. It’s true. We believe if you ever have a bone to pick with a Hyderabadi, it’s possibly from the massive plate of Chicken Biryani that you’ve shared with him.

Given our inherited sense of humour, we’re more than thrilled at laughing at a joke, even the poorest ones without discrimination. One fine day, we read this hilarious piece written by a Madrasan in Delhi. It’s got some really funny lines like this one –
“I am very sad to report that your reputation of being an ignorant, chauvinistic oaf with the intelligence levels of an autistic 3 year old on crack precedes you and it hurts me even more to admit to this rather accurate description.”

After reading this, we gleefully LIKEd it and SHAREd it with friends on Facebook. But on reading this piece from a half-Madrasan in Delhi, we realised it was not all hunky-dory. But I must say even this piece had its share of wit in response to what the Madrasan had to say. Here’s what the lady had to say –
“It seems nigh impossible to fall that low. For every Daalli boy living in Defence Callony there is a Medraus boy getting up ‘yearly in the maarning’. Why do we as a people deride our own regional accents while swooning over a French accent? Are you ashamed of your skin, accent or your food habits? You’re weighed down by your colonial hangover, lady.”

Just as we were going to share this piece, we received another link worth its laughs from an offended Delhi-ite who introduced himself by Maa-Behning all the clichés from the two aforementioned blogs –
“I’m a Delhi ‘Boy’. And I’m not a rapist. Or an oppressor of women. I can drive pretty well, and yes, I do appreciate my Rajma Chawal… preferably with sweetened curd. But I’m weird like that. Whenever I talk to someone south of the Vindhyas (This is a stretch… I don’t even know where the damn mountains are on a map), I’m expected to conform to stuff “we people do in the North”. From what I’m given to understand, there’s apparently a large conspiracy afoot to find people ugly, make fun of their cultural/religious leanings and drive my SUV over people on pavements.
And you know, I resent this. Most of all because I can’t afford an SUV right now.”

We thought we were done with this Capital Punishment, but just then came yet another ‘Banda’ with capital ideas. Here’s what he says –
“What is wrong in driving SUV? U know, there is four month waiting for Fortuner. It is great car – even better than my old Civic. Its not for what you think yaar, not for pataoing girls n all, im a car freak. I have need for speed. And what abt this you say Punjab male ego? No man.. we are very chilled people yaar. My cousin brother wife wears bikini n all when she go abroad. My dadaji dadiji are cool with it. We respect women too much. For Rakhi, I gave my sis 25 grand – money is for spending only, yaar.”

Just as we were thinking about the four really funny blogs, we came across this intelligent Ctrl C + Ctrl V rendition –
“I am very sad to report that your reputation of being an ignorant,chauvinistic accent-confused oaf with the intelligence levels of an autistic 3 year old on crack leer of a movie villain to anyone with slightly fair skin precedes you and it hurts me even more to admit to this rather accurate description.”

So Dear Madrasan in Delhi, Quarter-Madrasan, Delhi Boy, Drunk-on-a-quarter-of-scotch-and-SUV-driving-Punjabi-Frnd-frm-Gudgaon, and everyone else from in and around the Vindhyas, we can’t help but pray that there are more such posts. We’ll be more than happy to laugh at anyone’s expense, even our own. And of course, we’ll gladly share all your jokes yaar. We’ll also LIKE and SHARE on Facebook. And we’ll also copy the link on to an email and forward it to mom-dad yaar. Even your poorest jokes of India, my Ctrl C + Ctrl V friend from Bangalore. Looking forward to more such posts.

South Indian boy from Hyderabad.

Not so smart anymore

2011-08-21T06:43:00.000-07:00

You may be wondering why I’ve returned to my blog, a tool belonging to an era which was still recovering from the disappointing Season 14 of Simpsons, when surfing still needed a 5-metre board, and when a man’s feminine side was his wife. I regret to say that I have lost my Smartphone. Yes, it’s a loss that’ll take me some time to get over. I think of it every time I hit the snooze button of my morning alarm, when I tuck the day’s newspaper under my arms knowing I’ll have a lot of waiting to do, when I actually use a piece of paper to note down a number and when I’m forced to visit my office on Sundays just to do something as insignificant as uploading this post.

It gets worse. I was forced to look for the phone book that I hadn’t used since I got my 3300 in 2005. I now resort to looking around or reading a book every time I hop onto a bus. I was forced to rummage for my 80GB hard drive for old mp3s, and to listen to which, I’ll have to turn on my old desktop. Internet radio, you suggest? Broadband connection, I ask you? Did you need one when you have your Smartphone? I probably need to go back to getting my connection again. Gosh, so much of work just to update my Facebook status.

By the way, did I also tell you I don’t have your contacts anymore? Yes, I know I never called anyway. Well, to tell you the truth, I never really had the time. There was so much to do with my phone, that it kinda slipped my mind to call you all once in a way, if only to remind you how much life sucks any way.

So here’s wishing you all to go back to your respective mailboxes, and send me your numbers again. I know, I know, I’m speaking a language that’s extremely archaic. I’m hoping you just bear with me for sometime, after I find my way to the bank (no maps on the phone you see), make my credit card payments (no m-banking you see), and then hopefully if I still have any money left, head to a store to pick up a new phone. I assure you, after that things will return to normalcy, and we can all go back to playing Mafia Wars with each other as if none of this ever happened. Cheers.

Things I want to do before I…

2011-08-04T03:30:00.000-07:00

I believe I was born in Kerala. Why do I make a big deal of it, you ask? Well it’s because it still remains my biggest life accomplishment. If you can overlook my previous to-do lists that is. Because I’ve a hunch the last time I tried to come up with a list like this one, I may have listed another accomplishment as my greatest ever. Like the time when I learned to tie my laces. Or the time when I got my tongue to touch my nose. Or even the time when I cracked my first pun. Or the time when I completed one full paragraph without one (none here, see!). Coming back to the things I want to do, but without a deadline (To be read as things I’ll never really do). So here we go.
1. Become the official blogger at the Playboy Mansion
2. Go back to classroom, just to get the class do a silent Mexican wave every time a prof turns his back
3. Start a local chapter of Fight Club…and then run for my life
4. Go back to college, and scream inside the library
5. Get a letter published in Penthouse
6. Challenge Mike Tyson to 15 rounds at the Caeser’s Palace on PS2
7. Become Shane Warne’s wingman
8. Write the lyrics of an obnoxious Bollywood number like “ tohra dil ka theatre maa…dil diwana booking advance maare re…”
9. Sing the above song at a Karaoke
10. Attempt to list down 100 such things to do without a deadline.

So you want to be a writer?

2011-07-26T04:04:00.000-07:00

Here's some inspiring stuff from Charles Bukowski:

If it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it.

Unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it.

If you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words, don't do it.

If you're doing it for money or fame, don't do it.

If you're doing it because you want women in your bed, don't do it.

If you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again, don't do it.

If it's hard work just thinking about doing it, don't do it.

If you're trying to write like somebody else, forget about it.

If you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait patiently.

If it never does roar out of you, do something else.

If you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you're not ready.

Don't be like so many writers, don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don't be dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self-love.

The libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind.

Don't add to that.

Don't do it.

Unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don't do it.

Unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it.

When it is truly time, and if you have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you.

There is no other way.

And there never was.

Rock & Roll Bandh

2011-07-14T06:42:00.000-07:00

One is never clear about a Bandh these days. Gone are the days when a Bandh used to have as much monopoly in India as a Public Sector Unit. It used to be a national movement, with everyone adhering to it, resulting in no movement on Indian roads. But that’s no longer the case.

With liberalisation, it’s become a competitive field. If one group is demanding for a separate state, the other is in a state of paranoia. If one state opposes the setting up of an industry, the other opposes unemployment. Because of this, our strikers are rather confused folk. They don’t know when it’s a working day (a bandh in their case) and when they could get up late in the day, get plastered all afternoon, and cause a riot at night. Because of this confusion, they don’t know what they’re fighting for, and end up getting crushed under a hard rock or heavy metal, depending on their weapon of choice.

The reason for this, as participating groups have confirmed is demand exceeding supply. With several employment options today, young boys with a striking background are lured into other fields like engineering, banking, IT, ITES and even media. And add to it the number of projects, the small number of strikers who still retain a passion for their craft are relocated to different states, and each one is now accountable for the work performed by many more strikers in the past.

Case in point is the state of Bengal. For 34-years they enjoyed a golden era of Bandhs, but suddenly when the reds were ousted from their seat of power, many strikers have lost their jobs, and hence have had to move down south to either further their careers or look for jobs in booming industries. Some even go west. To go as far as the Middle East and North Africa with the kind of prospects there currently.

The few strikers who remain in the country are now savvier with demands of the times. They expect recruitment straight from college. They feel they’ll be more battle-ready after a three-month orientation, where they are trained to hone their many cross-functional skills, from pelting stones, to shouting slogans, to talking to the media, to even setting a bus or two on fire. They expect their working day to end before 6, so as to beat the peak hour-traffic. They expect a five day week when on a project, and warm the bench when there’s no work at hand. They are also more secure with the knowledge that their CTC (cost-to-cause) covers several benefits like daily conveyance, medicare, free-food and on special days, as-much-as-you-can-steal grocery allowance. And because of the demand, complacency has crept in, owing to the fact that they cannot be fired(even literally).

Says Bhombhol Bandhopadhyay(roughly translates to Leader of Bandhs), a product of the 70s emergency school of protesting – “Boys today have taken their roles for granted. They do not have any loyalty towards the cause they are fighting for, because if they don’t enjoy it, they can always join another cause who will also give a considerable increment in remuneration. So as a result, they don’t mind taking a few days off, even when the project deadline approaches. As a result, one of the project seems to be stuck for 15 years, and there is no momentum whatsoever. In our days, a Bandh getting postponed, or even called-off for Diwali, Christmas or India’s Boxing Day Test Match at Melbourne was completely unheard of.”

Gone are the days of the Rockstars – the 70s, when the strikers were ever ready to give a demonstration of their skills. Rallapalli(roughly translates to village of stones)Raghavendra Rao, who true to his initials, hailed from a village that specialized in stone-pelting. He’s been involved in this profession of striking since the 60s, and he turns teary eyed when he talks of the exciting times in the 70s, when he was perpetually stoned. “Those were really great days. We were hungry for work. If it was not in AP, we’d catch a train and head up North to UP. And shortly after departure, we’d organize a rail-roko. Years of inactivity have killed that spark in these youngsters. They have no idea of striking with iron rods when the sun is out. Sadly, the boys today have turned soft. They organize a protest like a bunch of old cheer-leaders who have just been replaced by younger girls. Surely it’s the effect of having witnessed four seasons of IPL.”

Clearly, a Bandh is not what it used to be. Its days are numbered. And we as a country might never ever get enough of a critical mass to stage a Bharat Bandh anymore. It’s perhaps time that we light a candle at the Gateway of India in memory of the last successful Bandh, which was sometime in 2000. As Frank Sinatra once sang – When I was 17, it was very good year.

Simplicity Sells

2011-07-05T01:58:00.000-07:00

Techie Version of Sounds of Silence

Hello voicemail, my old friend;
I've called for tech support again.
I ignored my bosses' warning--
I called on a Monday morning.
Now it's evening and my dinner first grew cold
And then grew mold...
I'm still on hold.
I'm listening to the sounds of silence.
You don't seem to understand
I think your phone lines are unmanned!
I pressed every touch-tone I was told,
But I've still spent 18 hours on hold;
It's not enough your program trashed my drive,
And it constantly hangs and bombs;
It erased my ROMs!
Now my Mac makes the sounds of silence.

In my dreams I fantasize
Of wreaking vengeance on you guys.
Say your motorcycle crashes...
Blood comes gushing from your gashes...
With your fading strength, you call 911,
And you pray for a trained MD...
But you get me.
And you listen to the sounds of silence.

The Two-Cow theory on the cricketing field

2011-06-23T23:38:00.000-07:00

There's a theory explaining your economic leanings based on what you would do if you owned two cows. If you had two cows, and give one to your neighbour, you're a socialist. While if you had two cows, and sold one to buy a bull, you'd be a capitalist. So for a post on Cricket Fauj, I extended this analogy to the cricketing world -

Indian Cricket - You have two very healthy cows. But you start marketing the calf, and even invite tenders through a bidding process offering 1/10th the ownership.

Pakistan Cricket: You have one cow and a bull. But you sue the Bull's testicles and ban it from participation until further notice.

Sri Lanka Cricket: You have two not so healthy cows, and you rely on BCCI Capitalism for the fodder.

English Cricket: You don't have cows. But the ones in your shed are either Pakistani or South African.

South African Cricket: You only have space for two cows, one being reserved for black cows(okay, Afro-african cows to be politically correct).

Australian Cricket: You have two cows. Both of whom are on the verge of retirement.

New Zealand Cricket: You have two sheep, who are forced to play the role of cows.

West Indies Cricket - You have two cows, who'd rather graze on greener grass fields in India.

Zimbabwe Cricket:You have one cow, but its abducted by Robert Mugabe

Bangladesh Cricket: You have two calfs who dont show signs of growing up to be cows.

Fire in Babylon: Movie Review

2011-06-19T00:09:00.000-07:00

In a cricketing world where batsmen are as protected from head to toe-nail as Samurai warriors with Katina Blades (read cricket bats), the West Indians no longer remain a force they used to be for a little over two decades from the 70s. And it’s a cruel 157 Km/h beamer of an irony hurled at bowlers today, West Indian or otherwise, that the best of their ilk were responsible for the movement that protected the batsman, which has led to fast bowlers becoming an endangered species. This documentary called Fire in Babylon is made to inspire the kind of people who are up against preponderance today – Fast Bowlers, Faster Bowlers and Batsmen who look a bit like healthy cross of Romesh Powar and Fred Flinstone.

Much like Indian Cricket teams till the late 1990s, the Men from the Caribbean were known to be entertaining visitors, who lost games but won hearts for their stylish attitude towards the game. Barring a handful legends whose names now grace the cricketing stands and trophies around the world, the rest were supposedly as competitive as cows grazing on fields of hemp. But one fine day, when they couldn’t take Caucasian taunts anymore, these very cows turned into raging bulls that were desperate for action on the field(mating season or otherwise). Fire in Babylon begins at that precipice of transition in the minds of Caribbean Cricketers. Never again, would they only play and not compete, said captain courageous Clive Lloyd.

The journey begins with Lloyd choosing his men wisely and encouraging them to make a statement on the field with their talent. As a result, the batsmen scored more runs, bowlers took more wickets, fielders took sharper catches, and Jamaican fans scored more pot. It’s really a simple story of pretty boys becoming poster boys of brute force. But where Fire in Babylon really scores is in its re-narration of Ugly Duckling into one that inspires movie audiences to do a Mexican wave.

Underlying their cricketing achievements, was a lot that happened off the field in their respective island nations – political strife, with casual racism, the legacy of colonial exploitation, and a burning desire to be acknowledged as an equal. It was cricket that united several nations under the West Indies flag. It was no longer the pride of playing for your country alone, but it was the pride of representing a significant population of mankind.

Switching between archival footage and present day interviews with the stars of the 70s-80s including Clive Lloyd, Gordon Greenidge, Desmond Haynes, Viv Richards, Andy Roberts, Joel Garner, Collin Croft and Michael Holding, the film takes you through a fascinating journey that weaves socio-political and sporting elements into a narrative that's compelling even for those who don’t know their Sidebottoms from their elbows.

This movie helps you get a global perspective in a cricketing context. It opens your eyes to double standards that had emerged when the West Indian Bowlers ruled cricket with intimidating pace. It also helps you understand what really motivates a champion side to go far beyond what is expected of them. Fire in Babylon is a story of controlled rage with a healthy dose of Reggae. And above anything else, it’s a grand tribute to one of the greatest and the most dignified cricket teams ever to grace the field. Which is what makes it a spectacular viewing for any cricketing fan worth his Cricinfo addiction.

Before and After...Ronaldo.

2011-06-07T22:56:00.000-07:00

Great Sportsmen very rarely make great farewells. There are some like Murli, who have have the ability to bring in a spark of romance. But then there are some like Warne, who bring in the controversy of a failed off-field romance. Some like Jordan and Schumacher go on ruin the great last memories that they'd once decided to leave fans with. Some like Maradona turn from darling sportsmen to despised coaches or administrators. Ronaldo recently announced his retirement. And he's not like any of the above sportsmen. At least, we hope he enjoys a better retirement than most sporting legends of his time.

Writing drunk

2011-06-03T22:15:00.000-07:00

Or wait. Should it have been drunk writing? Not quite. This is an experiment. I was told you write best when you’re drunk. It streamlines your thinking and gives it direction, without ever letting that sober editor in your head take the piss out of your thoughts. So here we go.

But it couldn’t really a solution could it. No, no! In theory it isn’t really a solution. In all likelihood, alcohol is just a compound. Unless of course you choose to have it with soda, which in theory is also a solution. Or even coke(also a solution). Or even with water. And ice. And surely if it’s mixed with other alcohols, as is the case with cocktails. Which I’m told is not a very macho thing to do. Drink cocktail that is. Very effeminate. You’re better off sticking to beer. Which also happens to be a good example of a solution. What with the kind of water that is available to us these days, it’s never really a compound anymore. But an effective solution, nevertheless. You should try it sometime.

This is good. It really opens the floodgates for ideas to flow out. Like a tap that has a lock on it. In these times of water shortage, you can’t trust anyone with your tap. What if it runs out completely, especially when you’re in a desperate need to hydrate yourself? Imagine being hung-over and dehydrated, and then being stuck with a tap that has absolutely no water running through it. It’s a good idea. Don’t you agree? The tap with a lock. Not the hangover. Isn’t it just brilliant?

The hangover is a bad idea. There’s only one solution for it. The water that we spoke of sometime back? The one which isn’t a compound these days, remember? Yea, the one that should also be regulated with a tap that has a lock on it. And guess what? It’s also a cure for a hangover. And dehydration too. Isn’t it just wonderful when things just fall in place? A eureka moment! It’s just that unlike that time when the man in question (what was his name again?) goes running out on the streets straight from the bath tub to dry himself, here you are already dry because you’ve never opened the tap because it has a lock and you don’t remember where you left the keys. Oh man! I’m actually starting to think this was a bad idea. So the lesson of the day is…okay what were we talking about again?

Fast Forward: Power of Press

2011-06-03T02:13:00.000-07:00

Just received this interesting mail from Mr. Gurudutt Mundkur. Thought I'd share it with you, with my own contribution of 8 annas(It's what we call a cheap joke).

The Times of India is read by people who think they run the country.

The Economic Times is read by people who think they own the country.

The Hindu is read by people who are not sure who's country it is.

The Indian Express is read by people who shouldn't run the country.

The Statesman is read by people who think they ought to run the country.

The Asian Age is read by people who think someone else should run the country.

The Hindustan Times is read by people who think Delhi is a country.

The Telegraph is read by people who think Bengal is the best country.

The Malayala Manorama is read by people who think Kerala is their country, and God's ... zimble !

Mid-Day is read by people who can't think in this country.

The Pioneer is read by people who think the Brits ran this country better.

The Tribune is read by people who're more bothered about the country-side.

Dainik Bhaskar is read by people in the country-side.

Bombay Samachar is read by people who'd rather be in some other country.

Saamna is read by semi-literates who think, tujhi aiee chi, everyone should fx%k off from country.

Femina is read by the fat wives of the rich in this country.

Stardust is read by people who care a shit who runs the country as long as she has big tits.

DNA is not read, but used to pack footwear by people going out of this country.

After reading this one, I realised that the only person who finds all this material useful is your friendly neighbourhood 'Istriwalla', who uses the contributions of all the aforementioned media houses to fold your clothes after the 'press'. All hail, the power of press.

Limerick

2011-05-29T07:01:00.000-07:00

Personally, my favourite style of Word play. And this would be your best introduction to a limerick. I haven't ever found out who wrote this one.

The limerick packs laughs anatomical
Into space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean -
And the clean ones so seldom are comical

Dirt Devil

2011-05-24T10:25:00.000-07:00

Dirt Devil-The Exorcist from MrPrice2U on Vimeo.

Crazy Download Speeds from Beam Fiber

2011-05-22T23:41:00.000-07:00

These two films are a part of the continuing campaign for Beam.

If someone is watching...

2011-05-19T23:28:00.000-07:00

If you look up online about what Amnesty have to say about themselves, this is what it is - "We are ordinary people from across the world standing up for humanity and human rights. Our purpose is to protect individuals wherever justice, fairness, freedom and truth are denied."

While many ad agencies have gone on to produce some mind-blowing creative communications for Amnesty, I feel this one film comes closest to what the organisation stands for.

Be Stupid

2011-05-18T05:08:00.000-07:00

My first impression of this campaign was that it was trying really hard to be different. But then I came across their motto -

" Like balloons, we are filled with hopes and dreams. But over time a single sentence creeps into our lives. Don’t be stupid. It’s the crusher of possibility. It’s the worlds greatest deflater. The world is full of smart people. Doing all kind of smart things… Thats smart.

Well, we’re with stupid. Stupid is the relentless pursuit of a regret free life. Smart may have the brains…but stupid has the balls. The smart might recognize things for how they are. The stupid see things for how they could be. Smart critiques. Stupid creates. The fact is if we didn't have stupid thoughts, we'd have no interesting thoughts at all. Smart may have the plans…but stupid has the stories.
Smart may have the authority but stupid has one hell of a hangover. It's not smart to take risks…It's stupid.

To be stupid is to be brave. The stupid isn't afraid to fail. The stupid know there are worse things than failure…like not even trying.

Smart had one good idea, and that idea was stupid. You can’t outsmart stupid. So don’t even try. Remember only stupid can be truly brilliant."

Must admit. I'm actually inspired to do something stupid.

When was the last time you loved an Ad?

2011-05-14T23:30:00.000-07:00

I saw this ad once during a commercial break during an IPL match, and then I sat through every commercial break, just to see if this would be telecast again. There's only one word to describe this TVC - Sweet.

Crazy Internet Speeds from Beam Fiber

2011-05-11T23:30:00.000-07:00

Ah, the fruits of labour. Our first foray into animation. Kudos to Beam Fiber, Studio Eeksaurus and Sunny Side Up.

Listless Life

2011-05-08T05:11:00.000-07:00

Just the other day, a good friend and one of the 14 readers(two more readers since I last checked in 2009. Would you believe it :D!) pointed out that the stuff I publish on this page seem completely devoid of 'personal' details. My immediate response to it was, "I thought that's what my Facebook Profile was meant to do". But who am I fooling? Not her, certainly. Or the 13 of you. But it's true. And as always, I have a very valid reason for not writing anything much about my life.

If you've come this far after reading the rather ordinary title, I wont hold you any longer and make an honest confession. I know I'd rather say this the way Cary Grant did while hanging on to a boulder for his life in North by Northwest, but I digress. The thing is, as far as my life goes, there ain't much to write home about. I could write about what I do for a living - I write about the benefits of pursuing a degree from a world-class institution who'll never admit me for whatever I'm worth, of staying in a 5-star hotel that I could never afford, and of using the new and improved condom that I've never really had the opportunity to try out - but then it's not really in the same league as Al Gore's classy intro in the Inconvenient Truth("Hello, my name is Al Gore, and I used to be the next President of the United States."), is it?

So I find it rather convenient to write about other things. Like things that wouldn't offend anyone. And things that wouldn't alienate any one. And as you can see, after these considerations, I've left myself very little to write about. Which also brings me to a realisation of how rarely I upload this blog these days. Hummm! I seriously need to find things to write about.

Driving pathological liars, all over the world.

2011-05-04T21:56:00.000-07:00

Dreams can wait.

2011-05-02T21:54:00.001-07:00

Fast Forwards: Nostalgic Nineties

2011-04-10T22:52:00.000-07:00

Just found this in the mailbox, and had to be shared with everyone who grew up in the 90s.

You Know You Grew Up in India in the 90s When…

1) You know the words to 'In pin safety pin', and 'inky pinky' by heart.

2) Cricket is almost a religion for you, and you idolize at least one of Rahul Dravid/Sachin Tendulkar/Saurav Ganguly/ Anil Kumble.

3) You have read at least some Chacha Chaudhary or Tinkle comics.

4) You’ve watched Shaktimaan on TV at least once in your life. And you can immediately recognize the character when you see him.

5) You watched corny dubbed versions of Small Wonder, Silver Spoon, and I Dream of Jeanie.

6)Backstreet Boys' "Everybody" was one of the first English songs that you loved!

6) Andaz Apna Apna is and most probably will always be your favourite comedy flick!! And Crimemaster Gogo of the 'Aankhen nikaal kar goti kheloonga' fame your favourite villan.

7) You have seen Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, Raja Hindustani and Maine Pyar Kiya and wondered what was the big deal.

8) You thought Jo Jeeta Wahi Sikandar was the most inspiring movie ever.

9)You absolutely had to go to Essel World if you were with cousins! “Essel World mein rahoonga main, ghar nahin nahin jaaonga main!”

9) You still remember the theme song of Hum Paanch. (Hum Paanch, Pam Pam Pam Paanch!)

10) You have played hours upon hour of running and catching, chor-police, lagori, saankli, statue, ‘Hide & seek’, ‘Lock and key’.

11) You collected trump cards of wrestlers, cricketers, and airplanes, and did not quite understand why your younger siblings were obsessed with Pokemon and the other Japanese trends that followed.

12) Your summer vacations were often synonymous with visiting your grandparents or cousins

13) Bole mere lips, I love uncle Chips!

14) You know the song ‘Made in India’ by Alisha Chinai.

15) You have seen many many many episodes of ‘Antakshari’ on Zee TV and know the only thing constant in the show is Annu Kapoor.

16) You were the coolest thing in class if you had a computer in your house while it was still the 90s.

17) You couldn't wait to start 5th Standard so you could start writing with pens instead of with pencils! And if you were a boy, you'd wait till 8th Standard so you could finally wear trousers to school.

19) You often used terms and phrases like ‘same to you’, 'first you never I' and ‘shame shame, puppy shame, all the donkeys know your name.’

20) You most probably saw Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge at the cinema at least once. And you would still remember the first car SRK is shown driving (Lamborgini Countach?)

21) You have said ‘haw’ or ‘yuck’ when you saw people 'french' kissing in English movies.

22) Titanic was your first favourite English movie.

23) You thought seeing English movies and speaking English made you the coolest thing ever.

24) Barbies for girls, and GI Joes for boys were the ultimate status symbols. You just wanted more of each.

26) You thought ‘imported’ clothes were definitely way better than ‘made in India’ clothes (never mind that a lot of clothes brought from overseas by NRI relatives were actually made in India, before ‘Made in China’ started appearing on every existing thing)

27) "Jungle Jungle Baat Chali Hai Pata Chala Hai! Chaddi Pehen Ke Phool Khila Hai Phool Khila Hai!" You watched "The Jungle Book" every Sunday morning at 9.a.m" and just loved mowgli, bhalu and bagheera. A few years later, you watched Disney Hour, which had cartoons like Aladdin, Gummy Bears, Tail Spin, Uncle Scrooge!

28) At some point or other, cool was your favourite, and therefore, most overused word.

29) You loved licking off the cream from the centre of Bourbon biscuits.

30) There were no Nike, Reebok, Adidas, Puma- Bata, Carona and Action were your best options for sports shoes.

31) You have probably consumed more Frooti (of the green tetrapack) in your lifetime than the oil that the western world fought for at the gulf war.

32) You bought packets of potato chips for the specific purpose of collecting Tazos. And you had Tazos depicting everyone from Confucius to Daffy Duck to Daffy Duck dressed as Confucius.

33) For the longest time, Maruti 800, Padmini and Ambassador were the only cars you saw on the road, and the Contessa was cool because it was bigger.

34) You would literally jump up in excitement if you ever chanced upon an imported car (Oh my gosh, is that really a MERCEDES?)!

35) You used to Fuzen gum. You also chewed Big (big) Babool and/or Boom Boom Boomer chewing gum. They were bright pink and disgusting, but you loved them for the temporary tattoos.

36) You thought Mario and Contra were the coolest things ever invented, especially if you were a boy.

37) You knew that having the latest Hero Ranger would make you the coolest kid on the block.

38) You have, at some point of time, worn GAP or Polo Sport(obviously fake)like SRK in KKHH.

39)You watched the Bournvita Quiz contest on TV pretty religiously. The smarter ones amongst you actually took part in it and had your entire school and your entire extended families watch you on it!

40) Maggi 2 Minute Noodles = ultimate snack (and tiffin, lunch, dinner)!

41) If you grew up in the early 90s, you recall the nation’s obsession with Mahabharata on TV

42) In the later 90s, you religiously followed Hip Hip Hooray on Zee. Maybe Just Mohabbat on Sony too

43) You remember parzan dastur sayin "JALEBI!!!!" in the Dhara Ad

44) Seemingly senseless acronyms like SRK, DDLJ, DTPH, KKHH actually make sense to you..

45) You have at some point debated who was more beautiful- Aishwarya or Sushmita.

46) You would watch WWF keenly every evening/afternoon and loved Bret Hart "Hitman"! really thought Undertaker had seven lives and he made an “actual” appearance in the Akshay Kumar- starrer Khiladiyon ka Khiladi.

47) You remember the Nirma girl.

48) You remember the ‘doodh doodh piyo glass full doodh’ ad and also the ‘laal kaala peela, gulabi hara neela classic hai badia bristles wala’ and 'roz khao ande' ads.

49) MTV was your only source of Music.

50)This list made you smile.

Food Fight

2011-03-31T00:59:00.001-07:00

Writer's block, and the subsequent tackle...

2011-03-18T04:12:00.000-07:00

Yes, ladies and gentleman. I am a victim of the writers block. And I confess, I didn't have the courage to admit this 8 years back, when I first detected it.

Way back, during my years in an Engineering College, I first encountered this difficulty in crafting a sentence on paper. Initially, I blamed it on the exuberance of youth and gladly ignored it along with all other things of little significance, like life, health, remote chance of having a girlfriend and an even remoter(Is that really a word? I couldn't say. Bloody writer's block, I tell you.) chance of having a flourishing career as an Engineer in Electronics. Right. Okay. That didn't go so bad, so I'll continue.

Couple of years later, I felt the need to do something about it, because it was starting to show on my grade sheet. Yes, that's true. The only marks I scored in Engineering was on account of my ability to fabricate concepts that were hitherto unknown to science itself. But then, my inability to put it on paper cost me a few grades. It wasn't funny anymore. At least the examiners used to have some entertainment to look forward to, and now those privileges were denied to them.

After crawling out of Engineering College, I invested some time on a blog at LiveJournal with a hope to see some returns, of my ability to write at least. But then, it wasn't meant to be. I first blamed it on bad vaastu, and changed the blog address to Blogspot. A year later, I could identify a grand total of three readers of my blog. Clearly encouraged by the progress I'd made, I started working on two more blogs. And I even started contributing to two other blogs. Hell, I even took up a job where I was required to write. And if all this wasn't enough, I even started writing status messages on Facebook. Surely something good had to come out after all this.

Today, 8 years later, after 5 blogs, 257 posts, and 389 status messages on FB, and mugging up all the dialogues of Taare Zameen Par, I've decided to stop fooling myself. I've embraced the idea of living with this 'special' (in)ability, and have reconciled. If you reached this far, you'd have already guessed that I surely wouldn't have a clue as to where this piece was heading. So let me not subject you to this anymore.

The end.

Controlling the Internet

2011-02-21T22:00:00.000-08:00

Here's the transcript for this beautiful piece of poetry:

If I controlled the Internet, you could auction your broken heart on eBay, take the money, go to Amazon, buy a phonebook for a country you've never been to, call folks at random until you find someone who flirts really well in a foreign language.

If I were in charge of the Internet, you could Mapquest your lover's mood swings. Hang a left at cranky, right at preoccupied, U-turn on silent treatment, all the way back to tongue kissing and good love, and you could navigate and understand every emotional intersection. Some days, I'm as shallow as a baking pan, but I still stretch miles in all directions. If I owned the Internet, Napster, Monster and Friendster.com would be one big website. That way you could listen to cool music while you pretend to look for a job and you're really just chatting with your pals.

Heck, if I ran the web, you could email dead people.

They would not email you back...but you'd get an automated reply.

Their name in your inbox...it's all you wanted anyway. And a message saying, "Hey, it's me. I miss you."

"Listen, you'll see being dead is dandy. Now you go back to raising kids and waging peace and craving candy." If I designed the Internet, childhood.com would be a loop of a boy in an orchard, with a ski pole for a sword, trashcan lid for a shield, shouting, "I am the emperor of oranges. I am the emperor of oranges. I am the emperor of oranges." Now follow me, OK?

Grandma.com would be a recipe for biscuits and spit-bath instructions. One, two, three. That links with hotdiggitydog.com. That is my grandfather. They take you to gruff-ex-cop-on-his-fourth-marriage.dad. He forms an attachment to kind-of-ditzy-but-still-sends-ginger-snaps-for-Christmas.mom, who downloads the boy in the orchard, the emperor of oranges, who grows up to be me - the guy who usually goes too far. So if I were emperor of the Internet, I guess I'd still be mortal, huh? But at that point, I would probably already have the lowest possible mortgage and the most enlarged possible penis...so I would outlaw spam on my first day in office. I wouldn't need it. I'd be like some kind of Internet genius, and me, I'd like to upgrade to deity and maybe just like that...pop... I'd go wireless.

Huh? Maybe Google would hire this. I could zip through your servers and firewalls like a virus until the World Wide Web is as wise, as wild and as organized as I think a modern-day miracle/oracle can get, but, ooh-eee, you want to bet just how whack and un-PC your Mac or PC is going to be when I'm rocking hot shit, hot shot god.net? I guess it's just like life. It is not a question of if you can. It's, do ya? We can interfere with the interface. We can make "You've got Hallelujah" the national anthem of cyberspace every lucky time we log on. You don't say a prayer. You don't write a psalm. You don't chant an om. You send one blessed email to whoever you're thinking of at dah da la dat da dah da la dat dot com.

Design + Discovery

2011-02-19T19:28:00.000-08:00

Why we Indians love Cricket?

2011-02-17T01:06:00.000-08:00

As middle-class Indians, we’re always spoilt for choice. Even before we’re born, we’re made to understand that we live in a free world, and we have no choice but enjoy our free will in taking up either Mathematics or Biology for our Class XI examinations. And then having chosen Mathematics, we have the option of preparing to answer any 4 of the 7 questions on Algebra, Trigonometry, Coordinate Geometry, Differential Calculus, Integral Calculus, Probability and 3D Geometry. And we are also pampered with the knowledge that studying Probability should help us not only to choose our subjects and subsequent careers wisely, but also help us in clearing engineering entrance exams that require us to answer multiple-choice questions(When in doubt, always answer c, or all of the above, or both). Cricket, like the life of a middle-class Indian, is full of glorious uncertainties, we are told. And a good game of Cricket is but a great exhibition of great choices made in split seconds. Let’s think about it.

The game begins with a toss, and the leader of men has to consider many parameters before offering his choice of either heads or tails. For instance, what he had for breakfast, how many members of his team are recovering from injuries, and how many are nursing hangovers from the game of strip poker being played in the dressing room. Just think of what all goes through his mind before the roll of the coin. And the game does not end with the toss. After winning half the battle, the remaining half of the game hangs on the decision of the captain, which is either to bat or bowl. Decisions like these require a great comprehension of Probability, which is usually left unanswered as a matter of choice in our Class XII Mathematics examinations. This is the sole reason why, ladies and gentlemen, we love this game.

Now moving on to choosing the team that represents our country, we entrust the responsibilities on the bright minds of former cricketers who have always entertained us with some phenomenal decision making skills on the field; like whether to attempt a shot or leave, whether to walk up to the crease during the run-up or settle for a quick stroll, whether to chase the ball till the boundary or wait for the ball boy throw it back to you, or most importantly, whether to ‘seen’ drinking Thumbs Up or Maltova. In choosing the squad of fifteen, they are probably the biggest custodians of the game in India. Just imagine the fate of the game, if it was not held safely in their hands. This post is a tribute to the final selection made by the Indian selection committee. And here’s the fruit of their labour:

MS Dhoni (captain & wicket-keeper): This was easily the toughest decision for messers Srikanth and co. Should you pick a keeper who can bat a bit, or a batsmen who can keep a bit, or a batsman who was good with stumpings, or a player from Tamil Nadu, or a player from Chennai, or a player who can win tosses, or a player who looks good in commercials, or a player who was good at press conferences. Some compromises were made (at least with the tosses bit) and we have Mahender Singh Dhoni, who is known to make astute decisions, be it with choosing his bike, or his bride. And he doen’t have a bad record either, winning 25% of the World Cups he’s played in, and 33% of the World Cups that he has captained in. Only Ponting, with a 40% WC winning record as a captain, has a better win percentage.

Sachin Tendulkar: The greatest player of all time. At least since Sunil Gavaskar sought his retirement in the commentary box. We have no choice in the matter of giving Sachin his World Cup. So much so that ICC is planning to retroactively award Sachin the 2007 WC trophy for sacrificing his opener’s position, just so that everyone is happy and TV ratings can bail West Indies out of the economic crisis that followed the staging of two world cups there in 2007 and 2010.

Virender Sehwag: Nobody has understood the 0.5 probability of the game better than Sehwag. In his own words, whenever he hits the ball, he either gets out, or he stays at the crease to face yet another ball. It’s this facet of the game that makes him the best choice for the vice-captain’s role ,of appearing for the toss when the captain is attending to his loosies.

Ravichandran Ashwin: Surely the captain’s favourite surprise package. He’s neither a great batsman, nor a great fielder. Neither a pace bowler, nor a spinner. But with whatever roles that remain, Ashwin is known to choose very wisely.

Piyush Chawla: Clearly a smart gambit by the selectors. In fact, Chawla is so far beyond the opposition radar, that the only videos they’ll find of him on youtube is of him promoting basketball (it’s a little late we think, considering he’s not going to grow any taller), and taking a great catch at backward point in an IPL match. Even the fans have no idea why he’s around, never mind opposition planners.

Gautam Gambhir: Easily the most useful cricketer in the team, Gambhir can open the innings when Sehwag decides he’s had enough of the game, or when Sachin declares that he needs rest. He can field at any position, when our best fielder Yuvi is bowling, or when Sachin declares that he needs rest. He can even captain the team when Dhoni has loosies, when Yuvi is bowling, when Sachin declares he needs rest and Sehwag decides...well haven’t we had enough of Sehwag already.

Harbhajan: No bowler in the game offers enough of variety to his skipper as Bhajji does, be it with the faster one, or the slower one, the straighter one or the slower one (got you there again, didn’t he), the turning one, or the tossed up one, the pehla, or the doosra, the right one, the wrong one, or even the one where he slaps another bowler in the opposition camp.

Zaheer: He’s the smartest bowler in the world. Owing to his constant injuries, Zak has learnt how to choose his games smartly.

Kohli: He’s probably done everything possible to get in the team. And yet he may be replaced by Raina in the XI. Virat’s case is a lesson for all youngsters in that, you can do everything in your hands, but to get results in your favour, you’ll still have to pay homage to the upar-wallah (MS Dhoni, the man at the top that is)

Nehra: Ashish reminds you of another generation, when life was simpler, when there was just one TV channel, and when Anil Kumble was India’s fastest bowler. Just watch him bat, or field, or swear at all the fielders when he’s taken for a few runs, and you’ll know why I turn teary-eyed with nostalgia every time I watch him in action.

Munaf Patel: This man used to be the fastest bowler in India. But that was before he started playing for India. And his wise decision is based on the fact that by choosing to cut down on pace, he can actually serve the game for a longer while, much to the delight of his millions of fans.

Yusuf Pathan: Possibly the best learner of the game, Yusuf is a man who can learn the tricks of the game from anyone, even his kid brother.

Suresh Raina: He hasn’t done much right in recent times, but he hasn’t done much wrong either. But what really works for him is his faith, which has moved mountains. Even that mountain which has patented the helicopter shot.

Sreeshant: It’s an old Indian tradition, where every king’s court needed an in-house clown. Sree is the one man who takes that role very seriously.

Yuvi: Every world cup winning team from India has had a tall left-handed slow bowler who gets hit for 5 sixes in an over, only to go on to hit six sixes in an over. After the retirement of Ravi Shastri, Yuvi is undoubtedly the best man for the job.

This certainly has to be my favourite Indian team for an ICC World Cup. Will they win the World Cup? It really doesn’t matter to me. After all, haven’t you heard Dhoni say it 314,159 times before – “ The end results will take care of themselves, if we take every game one at a time, and enjoy being a part of the process.”

Bold Choices

2011-02-14T20:53:00.001-08:00

Release the Hounds

2011-02-07T23:29:00.000-08:00

Where Books come to life.

2011-01-27T21:53:00.001-08:00

Where have all the flowers gone?

2011-01-24T22:36:00.000-08:00

Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone?
Girls have picked them every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Taken husbands every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young men gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone for soldiers every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Covered with flowers every one
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?

Fight for the lollipop

2011-01-18T01:19:00.001-08:00

What have you done today, to make you feel proud?

2011-01-13T09:14:00.001-08:00

Sponsors of Tomorrow

2011-01-07T02:24:00.000-08:00

Letter from Santa

2011-01-02T09:09:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. Singh,
1 January, 2001

I don’t think you remember me. I mean, I’d have to take you 10 years back, to a mental image of what you were then – a 17-year old. Yes, it’s true. Let me explain.

You remember being introduced to the concept of internet? And the electronic mail too? And how it drove your imagination (and mine too) wild? And how you linked your understanding of the internet to the concept of the multiverse? So you came up with this theory that the internet is possibly the only mode of communicating with a parallel universe. And possibly with the future too. So to find out for yourself, you send yourself a mail. And address it to yourself 10 years from now? Well, here I am.

As you’d remember, I am very curious to find out a lot about how the next 10 years turn out for you. And I know you understand, so you will refrain from sharing any information that can alter the shape of the space-time fabric. But still, it is this curiosity that has driven me so far. And you surely understand that too.

Okay, lets strike a deal here. I ask you only three questions. And those are related what has happened over the last three-four days. Here we go.

Firstly, I’m very impressed by what’s happening on the world wide web. So would I have property in this world wide web which would only be dedicated to me. As in if people land on this web page, all they’ll ever find is everything about me?

Secondly, would I ever get to drive a McLaren F1 in the next 10 years?

Lastly, will I be working somewhere cool, where I will be encouraged to work on the internet?

Looking forward to hear from you.

Yours truly,
Santosh.

Dear Santosh,
1 January, 2011

Of course I remember. How could I forget that wild idea. Well, I know you waited for a couple of days, hoping against hope, reason and logic for a reply. And I know I’m replying to your mail 10 years too late. But the reason I reply to this mail is because I still believe. In your idea. Your ability. And your innocence. Yes, that’s true. It was easily your first failure, after which you start curbing your ideas on the pretext of being realistic. When I think about it, I wonder which was a bigger failure, your silly experiment, or your silly outlook towards life after the outcome of that experiment. I don’t believe in a parallel universe anymore, and I cannot imagine anything that will help me connect to you, a memory of what I was 10 years back. But I write to you, and hope it reaches you in time. If only to encourage you to take the other path.

You don’t realise the strength of your first question. You asked me this question and decided to wait for an answer. And when you don’t see one in the next two days, you completely forget about it. Till you remember this freak incident 10 years later. And then unearth this mail from your mailbox (it’s amazing who you maintain a mail account with that childish name even 10 years later). Another chap asks himself the very same question, comes with an answer for himself, develops his idea, and gets a million dollars for it. Yes, you will own a property on the web, and if anyone lands on your page, they’ll only have access to your thoughts. But let me be honest. That’s really not saying much. And no, before you go into any of your romantic notions, ‘You’ve Got Mail’ is a ridiculous movie.

I wonder why you’d ask me the second question. And then I remembered. Let me put my gyan cap on and tell you, there’s more to life than what NFS 2 can teach you. No you won’t drive a McLaren F1. Not if you continue playing NFS 2 for countless hours, unless you can think of a radical idea for NFS 3 (Yes. For your information, NFS 2 was never really the best game ever. In fact it isn’t even the best NFS game ever.)

Now coming to your last question. Yes, your job will require your working on the internet all the time. I dare say, you’ll be writing emails for the rest of your life, and you’ll even make a job of it. Yes, not to forget, what you have learnt at that stage of your life (which also includes MS office and MS excel) is all the education you’ll need for the rest of your life.

When I think about it, I’ll say the dark ages of your life will begin on the day you decide to grow up, when you get rid yourself of the last figment of your imagination. And it will possibly end on the day when you entertain a childlike notion once again, realizing that it’s completely alright for an adult to start thinking like a child.

May this mail reach you in another world, another universe possibly, and in the words of a great poet – may you stay, forever young.

Regards,
Santosh ‘Santa’ Singh.

The History of Music... in one song.

2010-12-31T07:28:00.000-08:00

Death to Death Penalty

2010-12-22T05:06:00.001-08:00

My Statement of Purpose.

2010-12-13T08:43:00.000-08:00

I’ve written many of these. In fact I write one every day. They have been written on purpose and with purpose, and I’m guessing of purpose too. But most importantly, they are not any longer than one sentence. But then, I’ve had difficulty in writing a statement of purpose for my own admission into a world-class university in Arkansas. And it’s not only because that statement ought to have at least 673 words. It’s because I’m a simple, honest man, who finds it increasingly difficult to wax eloquent about my increasingly modest academic achievements. It’s almost like being a doctor, a perpetual back-bencher from his medical college days, who is asked to perform a vasectomy on his own being. But being brave of the mind, I venture to write my own statements of purpose. And here it is:

“Ignorance is bliss.” – Thomas Gray

There cannot be three other words that can describe me better. Let me put things in perspective. After having taken some 13,642 hours of study over 22 years of kindergarten, school, high school and undergraduate programmes, I still seem to know little of significance. But little it may be, significant it certainly is. Let me elucidate.

All through my school years, I was consistently placed at 45 in a class of 50. One year, I even went down to 47 out of 48(two students faced suspension that year). But with sheer hard work, I managed to rise to an all-time high of Rank 36 in grade 7. This experience of mine will surely hold me in good stead in your college, which is ranked 19 out of the 23 in the state of Arkansas. I’m sure my peers at college will appreciate and learn from my own struggles at education, which I’ll carry with me to Arkansas.

I’ve learnt that everything in life can be learnt on a need-to-know basis. And for everything else, there is Google, Microsoft Office and of course, my dad’s Mastercard. All my life, I’ve been a personification of this minimalist school of application. What it therefore leaves me with is a lot of time. Which only gave me an opportunity to hone another great skill of mine – learning by observation. I’ve observed that I’m mostly a liability in any activity that is remotely curricular or co-curricular, and I’ve therefore learned to look in the opposite direction whenever I encounter any activity of the sort. You may be rest assured that I will hardly do anything to jeopardize any research activity or other such academic processes that have been instituted at your great institution.

Participating in new challenges that go beyond the confines of a Google search or MS Office is an enlightening experience. The growth I've experienced intellectually and academically through the opportunities I've been given and accepted cannot be described in words. Being able to say that I've not only "learned" but "applied" is something that most students in my kind of disposition are not able to make. Not only was I the captain of our Dumb Charades team in college, I was also deeply engrossed in the skill of tuning guitar stings for all the rock bands in college. So much so that in my final year of college, I was even felicitated by the Music Club in recognition of my contributions to all the Battle of the Bands competitions during my years in college.

Having identified, and then acquired all these unique skills, I was ready to take it to the next level. I assumed the responsibility of becoming the manager of a rock band in college. At that stage, in addition to my responsibilities in maintaining guitars, I also added the skills drum kit maintenance and audio check to my repertoire. The fact that the band could focus on all other PR activities, like attending dorm parties and sleeping during college hours while I was managing the responsibilities of helping them fulfill their academic requirements (running around for attendance, maintaining Lab sheets, submitting assignments and projects etc.) is a testimony to my managerial skills. Now, I look forward to become a liaison officer for promising rock bands at Arkansas.

I believe I would be a good candidate for many more reasons. I have a deep appreciation for the opportunities given to me, and put my best foot forward with every step. I plan to be employed at one of the Fortune 500 companies like McDonald’s or Walmart, which employ students like me, while I continue my lifelong pursuit of knowledge at your great institution. I've been working for the past 5 years, and have reached that stage in my life when I think can afford to enjoy a healthy work-life balance. And that is precisely the reason I feel the skills I've demonstrated and developed can still be improved further. And it goes without saying your college gives me that wonderful opportunity of achieving all my aforementioned ambitions.

Keep Walking, Haile Gebrselassie

2010-12-09T23:29:00.000-08:00

What a role model. What a champion. All Hail, Haile.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 1

2010-11-24T09:46:00.000-08:00

Statistics prove that the movie watching populace today is clearly divided into two parts. Those who know the difference between petrify and stupefy (may their numbers grow), and those who think these are no more than two words from Webster’s Dictionary. And the latter is an aging race that diminishes in number every time someone turns a page.

For the 11 of you who read this blog, and the 61 of you who haven’t read a single book of Harry Potter (and who, almost certainly, don’t read this blog), the seventh installment of this top-grossing movie franchise might be the safest place to begin the journey. Only because, Deathly Hallows part 1 is completely devoid of anything out of a textbook on magical creatures. Well, almost. Also, there are absolutely no boring potion classes to attend. No new spells to learn. No pretty seniors to ‘charm’. No accidents on the Quidditch field. No points to be won for Griffindor house. No Hogwarts rules to be broken. For Potterheads, it’s almost tantamount to being expelled during the Happy Hours at the Three Broomsticks. This is undoubtedly the most non-magical movie about the wizarding world.

Simply put, it’s a story of three young wizards, Harry, Ron and Hermione, who are absconding from the wizarding world in search of something called hocruxes. That it happens to be a bone of contention for Lord Voldemort (very much like Darth Vader from our times) is inferred when his minions called ‘Death Eaters’ (the dark forces) wreck havoc while chasing the three friends. And just as you figure out what the title actually alludes to, you realise that you’ve just watched the longest movie trailer ever, clocking at 150 minutes. Confused? Surely. The movie really wasn't made for you anyway.

But then, as your young friends will tell you, you need a lot more than just a wand or some spell to create some magic. And this movie is visual proof of what Dumbledore meant when he said something in the tune of ‘Love and friendship can encompass everything. Even that which your wand can’t’. (Well, something of the sort. Only read the books once, you know. But you get the drift, don't you?)

While DH part 1 may seem very distant from the magical realms of Hogwarts, it is the one movie that is most loyal to its protagonists. For once, we know more about Harry, Ron and Hermione without ever getting distracted by their academic or trivial pursuits. Here are three friends, who have been driven out of their cocoon of adult supervision, and are racing against time to survive several onslaughts from the dark forces of Lord Voldemort. And the only thing working for them, when even their own wands fail, is each other’s company. But then, it is under such immense pressure that the strongest bonds are forged. Here's where the world of wizards comes closest to reality.

The utter frustration of the characters under overwhelming odds considerably slows down the pace of the movie. At times, you feel as impatient as the characters themselves. At times, you feel a sense of nostalgia, thinking of the good old days at Hogwarts. At times, you are left wondering if it’s a children’s movie any more. The harsh reality dawns upon the characters and the audience alike, that childhood was a thing of the past. And life will only continue to be unfair. So much so that a few lighter moments that emerge out of long dark hours seem no more than a fleeting respite. A Waltz between Harry and Hermione when they are on the verge of giving up is one such poignant moment.

There are two other sequences that will remain etched in the memory for some time. Firstly, there’s Hermione who reluctantly erases herself from her parents’ life, thus keeping them out of harm’s way. And then there is an animated narrative of the legend of the Deathly Hallows. These were the best sequences in this movie.

However, for all its brilliance, DH part 1 does offer an unbiased critic a lot of scope for nitpicking. The effect of wearing a hocrux surely reminds you of Frodo Baggins. Lord Voldemort certainly doesn’t seem half as scary as he’s made out to be. And then, as is the case with most movies that are based on books, DH part 1 proves to be the proverbial mini-skirt, concealing a whole lot more than what it reveals. But among book-based movies, I’d rank DH part 1 alongside Godfather 2, in that it lays greater emphasis on the characters of the story, as opposed to the main plot. That was one aspect of the movie I found most fascinating.

Of course, we do realise that a critique for any movie from this franchise is a futile exercise. If you do watch this in a theatre, just pay attention to the disappointment of the 10-year old who is a complete authority on all magical creatures Harry has encountered so far, or the ecstatic 12-year old who has all the magical spells by heart, and is completely armed to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts, come July 2011. That to me is the best critical analysis Deathly Hallows part one can get.

Thank you for the music.

2010-11-22T03:58:00.000-08:00

Music expresses that which can not be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. Nobody described music better than Victor Hugo. And since I cannot write anything as profound to describe any of the albums below, I'll keep it down to one sentence each. The rules of this Facebook Tag are 15 minutes (no more) to name your 15 favourite albums. Here goes:

The Beatles – Abbey Road

Their last album, which begins with Come Together. How apt.

Pink Floyd – Dark Side of the Moon

Cannot listen to just one track from this album and leave the rest.

Led Zeppelin IV

Clearly helped the band to be a rock, and not roll.

Pearl Jam – Ten

Have had the discography on me for half a decade, but I've never gone beyond their first album

Prodigy – Fat of the Land

90s, during my teen years, I had to love a band that came up with Smack my bitch up, even though I didn’t know what that really meant.

Kasabian – Kasabian

In an age when MTV plays anything but music, this album is the most definitive IV shot in music’s arm.

Massive Attack – Mezzanine

The first time I heard it in ‘07, I took the plunge, and I’m still immersed in it.

Bob Dylan 30th anniversary concert

When Tracy Chapman pays tribute to Dylan’s village folk days, and Johnny Cash and June Carter relate his Country leanings, while Clapton covers his experiments with Blues, you Don’t Think Twice.

AC/DC - Back in Black

When one of the loudest albums of all time features a number called Rock And Roll Ain't Noise Pollution, you have to admire this 'metal' band and their attempt at irony.

Metallica – Black

Many critics have blasted this album saying it was meant for losers. Boy, am I glad I was one.

U2 – Joshua Tree

If there’s one album that defines what really drove the band, it’s this one. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for…

RATM – Battle of Los Angeles

When you want to flash your digitus impudicus to the world, this is the album you play.

Nirvana – Never Mind

Funnily, my introduction to rock music was Come as you are. And here I am.

Simon & Garfunkel – Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me. Need I say more?

Simon & Garfunkel – Bridge Over Troubled Water

When you're down and out, When you're on the street, When evening falls so hard, I will comfort you
This album still has that kind of an effect on me.

The truth about Argentina

2010-11-19T00:44:00.000-08:00

So you think you can sell...anything?

2010-11-11T22:48:00.000-08:00

Great Campaign by Arnold Worldwide

15 literary influences in 15 minutes

2010-11-09T02:20:00.000-08:00

No seriously. 15 minutes. Another minute of deliberations, and the list would have changed. So here goes:

1. Merchant of Venice - It took me 3 reads to start appreciating this one. And another 3 to be able to say 'To bait fish withal: if it feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.... The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction' from memory. And 3 more before my ICSE boards. But if it was not for this one, I may never have been able to appreciate the rest of this list. So numero uno it is, Mr. Bill.

2. Dennis the Menace - 'You can fool some people all the time, and all the people sometime. But you can never fool mom'. Life lessons learnt from pencil boxes, posters and newspaper cuttings. Damn, where did all that go?

3. Asterix - History books were never the same after reading this series.

4. Short stories by O' Henry - Wit. Wordplay. Warmth. And clever twists in the end. Damn, he'd be one hell of a copywriter.

5. Short Stories by Somerset Maugham - This man can inspire you to write. Period.

6. Short Stories by Saki - He taught the rules of English by day. And tried to rewrite those very rules at night. Uber cool!

7. Calvin & Hobbes - “We're so busy watching out for what's just ahead of us that we don't take time to enjoy where we are.” Yes, it took a 6-year old to teach me that one. What a philosopher, I say.

8. Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger - Everytime I fuck up, I think of Holden Caulfield. And then I realise that things could have been worse.

9. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee - Forget James Bond. If there really is a personification of 'GQ man', than that honour should go to one Mr. Atticus Finch.

10. Fountainhead by Ayn Rand - It's an absolute must-read if you are in college and trying to hit on women with literary leanings. Quoting it always follows countless hours of conversations over coffee. ;)
PS: Whether you agree with the woman (the one you are hitting on, not Ayn Rand) or not, you better have an opinion of your own before attempting a pseudo-intellectual heist. Cheers!

11. The Trial by Franz Kafka - An awesome satire on the judicial system. Really makes you feel impotent. Not for the weak of heart and mind.

12. Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre - If you are the kinds who has bottled up anger for many years, than take a deep breath, try and channelise it into wicked bursts of sarcasm and other unprintable variants. And hell, win the GODDAMN BOOKER as a consolation for anger management!

13. Animal Farm by George Orwell - This one inspired me to write a street play. And I must say, it was a one-hit wonder. At least as far as lit events at colleges in the proximity of South Canara go. :P

14. Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne, and Around the World in 80 Days by Michael Palin - It took the first book to inspire me to make a holiday list, and the second one to believe it was possible. I'd give myself 80 years for this adventure, though.

15. Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carrol - One Reverand Dodgeson starts taking a trip of one bored 10-year old Alice Liddle, on a boatride. And the rest, they say, is hysterical. This book drove the literary world crazy with one question, "What was Lewis Carrol smoking?". Once revealed, with conclusive evidence, the stimulant in question ought to be legalised.

Time to change this script.

2010-11-08T04:57:00.000-08:00

Lies, damned lies and statistics.

2010-11-04T09:41:00.000-07:00

Just growing my hair longer, going back to my horn-rimmed glasses, investing in a Brioni bespoke, and 5 minutes of this, and I'm ready to deliver my first TED conference. :)

Writings on the Wall

2010-10-30T09:29:00.000-07:00

Yes, Facebook can be fun. And since we never have the pleasure of enjoying comments on the blog, we thought of writing an entry out of comments from FB. Here's introducing the participants from what started as a FB Kavvi Sammelan and eventually turned into a hip-hop free-for-all.

Me: Writing a status message is but a pastime,
But now I struggle to get them to rhyme,
To get over writer's block,
As prescribed by the doc,
And get back to my writing prime.

Priyanka: The try was worth a watch i say
But puns i love i would daresay
Till the time u have more puns to spare
Ill hide my happy comments somewhere!

Me: Hide your comments, for what joy?
When they are so awesome, oh boy!!
Writing a pun,
May be fun,
But this is what I'm starting to enjoy! :)

Navin: Writing a rhyme
Is a bit like consuming a bit of thyme
Cathartic and therapeautic,
As opposed to getting high on an unknown narcotic,
Go on, make Ogden swell with joy,
...Keep the rhymes apolitical, unlike Ms. Roy !

Me: You are one quizzing freak,
It even shows in your poetic streak,
Why wake up poor ol' Nash,
for this rhyming mishmash?
...So lets not invite miss roy,
and keep it simpler, my boy!

Navin: Good ol' Nash wouldnt mind being pestered
Esp. when we unleash poetic prowess so unfettered,
Yeah, we are all scared of Ms. Roy,
After all sedition is no boy's toy,
This rhyme is a little simpler I hope,
...With verbal diarrhoea, daily I cope :)

Me: Is this rhyme much simpler, I'm not so sure,
Your references still demand a guided tour,
Not for me an Ogden, or miss Roy,
not even a Bradman, or Van Nistleroy,
I like natural references, like the wind, the sun, or even hay,
...Because they create an image in your mind, what say?

KD: when in trouble to make me sound,
dont let the worries let your world go round,
just get some xxx and then watch some,
and soon enough the poetry will cum!!!!

Me: And here come KD, with always a lot to say,
but never for conventions, he always has his way,
He sure has his references, just as his thoughts go,
But boy, he has talent, when it comes to innuendo.

Navin: This rhyme's taking new turn, me thinkee,
KD's turned it up a notch with da kinkee,
Yo, dis house is rockin'
50 cent's soul just possessed me, not jokin',
Yo Sudhir bro, you made dis shit viral,
...Who's gonna go next, Admiral??

Me: This looks like the job of KD,
with Priyanka, the only lady,
with Navin, our quizzing freak,
and this dawg, it's quite a clique.

Schools Kill Creativity.

2010-10-25T09:58:00.000-07:00

Time of your life

2010-10-17T03:56:00.000-07:00

Old college favourite. Timeless hit, I'd say.

The world according to Google

2010-10-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

Here's my version of the dictionary, which one Mr. Rich was referring to in the New Yorker.

Yahoo: It's a reality check, especially when you take gmail for granted.

Ask: Seriously? Do you even need to?

Wikipedia: It's what googlers(employees and fans alike) fill up when they feel charitable.

Cricinfo: Is what Indians read, when they're not on Google.

Internet: err...google? Spot the difference.

www: Should be followed by google.com

Microsoft: The world's biggest jokebook.

iPhone: That's youtube and gmail in your pocket.

Facebook: Nice interface, to discuss your favourite youtube video, or your blogger post.

Money: Is what we'll gladly share with you. Read terms & conditions for Google AdSense

Bing: Yea, right!

Monopoly: It's what you are accused of, if you are the only entity doing something right.

Information: A word that will soon be replaced by Google in all dictionaries.

Charity: Refer to Wikipedia.

Environment: Is what will be saved if you stop reading all the crap that is published, and read everything from google instead.

Privacy: Is about the only thing you'll get if you ignore google.

Chill: Is what you should try doing if you don't like what you are reading(which BTW is on blogger)

Victim: You are. We are. Who isn't? Welcome to the machine(Which is a nice song by Pink Floyd. Don't forget to youtube it, and google the lyrics).

God: A manifestation of everything google cant give you. Privacy included.

Rajnikant: A superset of God. And google.

Dilli Boor Asth

2010-09-29T06:23:00.000-07:00

There used to be a time in life when I didn't know what I was up to. Things haven't changed very radically since then, besides giving me many more things to laugh about. So let me take you back safely to the beginning... of this piece.

I didn't know where my life was headed till advertising happened. And boy, did I feel at home once I got there. Not because it was full of almost-writers and almost-artists. Not even because there were some almost-film makers or almost-musicians. And certainly not because I was enamoured by a Don Draperesque work-life balance which involved having Martini lunches with clients, and doing hot secretaries in the office cabin.(The truth being, we neither have secretaries nor cabins. Hell, we don't even have lunch at the worst of times.) It was only because it was full of people who almost got there by chance, owing to having no inkling of where they were headed before they got there.

You may have already realised that I still have no sense of direction. And since there has never been a 'no looking back' situation in my life, I'll take you back to my first foot in the door. An Agency in Delhi found me a worthy candidate, or at least they said as much. Thinking of it as my first launchpad, I flew! That too, after promising to repay a borrowed sum once I got my first 'copywriter's paycheck'(kindly note that neither the lender nor the borrower caught that oxymoron). And what an eye opener that was. Err... I'm still talking about Delhi here.

Greeting me at the Airport was a queue at the prepaid Taxi stand. After asking my friend for his whereabouts, I hop onto a taxi. 'CR Park' I say with childlike excitement. 'Aji Kyun Nahi?' he says, in his Punjabi-Hindi, like that's were all of Delhi resides. After the taxi gets on to the main road, and I stick my head out like any country goon would at the sights of the city, 'Toh ji, kahan jana hai aapko?', he asks. Now here's where I felt I'd be taken for a ride.

'CR Park. Ek hi toh hai.' I tell him, defiantly. 'Bolne ka matlab hai, ki kahan sey jana padta hai?' Interesting!! I should have guessed. CR Park is probably not such a great landmark, after all. My good friend, the blue-eyed boy of a boisterous Bangla background, could have possibly given in to a patronising notion of CR Park being the capital of India. After all, he does polish off a plate of Macher Jhol before I can even break it down into coherent syllables. Surely he should deal with this driver. And introduce them I did, over phone. After speaking to the driver and explaining all that he possibly could, my friend tells me,"Ah! Don't worry. He's just playing mental games with you. Be firm. Be brave. And you have nothing to worry about."

If this was meant to be an assurance, it sure made me feel like I was on my way to spend a honeymoon in Siachen. 'Toh sir, hum ab Ring Road se chale?', 'CR Park wahi se jana hota hai na?', 'Ring Road se jana theek hoga?', 'Hauz Khas se Aage jana hai?', 'GK sey right lein?'. The migraine just got heavier with every question. On sensing this, the goon muttered, 'Kahan jana hai, pata bhi nahi hai. Bas, taxi mein chad jaate hain.'. That did it. Mental disintegration like I'd never experienced before. 'Kya bole aap?', I ask, not even awaiting an answer. ' Bolne ka....' he stuttered. 'Bolne ka kya matlab hai aapka', I beat him to it. 'Sir, aap to burah maan gaye?'.

'Toh aap samajte nahi ki mujhe CR Park pe utarna hai?', I try and put an end to his bluff. ' Aur aap kaisey bhi chalo, meine toh Rs. 200 dey di hai. Ab ussey aap mujhe Dilli ghumana chahte hain, to theek hai. Bas aur koi savaal naa karen.' Ah, that just had to be the Kayo. Try and better that, bugger! 'Lekin mein to yahi puchna chahta tha ki CR Park mein kahan niklengey aap.' Hell, these guys know how to make you feel like an idiot. And there's no reasoning with them. ' CR Park mein Police Station toh hoga?'I ask him, bordering on intimidation. 'Vahin se directions puchenge.'

Having had enough of this fellow, I decide to get off at the police station. There is only so much idiocy that I could take from one man. And as it turns out, he did have the last laugh anyway. He'd promised to drop me at CR Park, but only took me as close as two miles away from the final destination. I'm tempted to think this is but a metaphor for the ways of Delhi, to the uninitiated. After all, one Mr. Suresh Kalmadi promised to take the entire Commonwealth to the 'Best Games' ever. But after making so much of noise all through the decade long ride, we know a day before the event that what he presents tomorrow will be very far from what he'd first promised.

The Best Youtube ad ever.

2010-09-16T04:23:00.000-07:00

Try shooting the bear, and you'll know what I mean. Great stuff.

Google Instant with Bob Dylan

2010-09-13T05:27:00.000-07:00

Nurturing Creativity

2010-09-02T05:14:00.001-07:00

Mr. Teavee is such an idiot

2010-08-30T06:37:00.000-07:00

Found this awesome piece of verse from Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

The Man who walked around the world

2010-08-26T04:53:00.000-07:00

Dont judge too quickly.

2010-08-18T01:06:00.001-07:00

Peroni: Senza Tempo

2010-08-11T00:29:00.000-07:00

Your comments, please.

2010-08-09T00:36:00.000-07:00

Yes, ladies & gentlemen. It's been four years since I first introduced myself to bloggers at Livejournal, which was incidentally my first attempt at blogging. But 4 blogs and 218 posts later, little seems to have changed. The number of comments over the years has at best experienced a very modest, toned-down version of the 'Hindu Rate of Growth'. Maybe it's a good time for a review.

Initially, I was very kicked about maintaining a blog. I would look forward to writing a new post. I'd collect all my thoughts, revise all my puns, note down all pop-art or newsworthy references, all this while the BSNL dial-up struggled for ignition. After the blog was updated, there would be a joblist to be completed, which would encompass a 360-degree marketing activity. Casually mention the blog. Check. Rave about your latest post. Check. Refer to the 'one' funny comment on your blog. Check. Upload link on your Gtalk status. Check. Post link on an Orkut community. Check. Send link as a forward to dad. Check. This process went on for six months. Then on one fateful day, I stopped caring about my blog. And then I've always looked back ever since.

Now when I think about it, I realise why this blog has never been so comment-friendly. A guy who is in denial about his age, who is completely incapable of political opinion, who's not graduated from the musical collection of his college days, who's read Harry Potter a decade after it was a rage, who still laughs at his occasional pun, and whose Facebook Status draws more comments than his blog obviously doesn't have enough going on in his life to talk about. That pretty much puts this case to rest.

Now for the way forward. May be an insight or two from the 'Target Group' will give me an idea - a cliched line from the advertising industry that refuses to go out of vogue. From my recollection, blogs that boast of millions of comments belong to:

A) Celebrities
B) Women
C) Both of the above (Damn, this reminds me of my engineering entrance exam. When in doubt, mark C)

Now things are starting to get clearer. 17 days of determined contemplation, and my path becomes crystal-clear to me. I should assume a feminine non de plume. And stay anonymous. That's it. That way, I could be mistaken for any one of the above categories. I can safely write about some seriously earth-shattering topics like what I had for breakfast, what I had for a drink and where, and how I hate toddlers in aeroplanes, and how I hate cats and dogs, and how I hate nosey male bloggers who have absolutely nothing to offer to this world but for their comments on my blog. Oh boy, I cannot wait to read the comments that will flow from then on. Score!

The Greatest Story ever told.

2010-07-28T06:44:00.000-07:00

Greatest Story Ever Told - Watch more Funny Videos

Non-stick Figures

2010-07-27T02:01:00.000-07:00

Love me tender...or else?

2010-07-22T22:13:00.000-07:00

Getting Married like nobody's business.

2010-07-19T01:46:00.000-07:00

The making of Toyota IQ font.

2010-07-15T00:11:00.000-07:00

Toyota IQ has stupendous maneuverability. And they'll give it to you in writing.

Meet the Parents.

2010-07-10T00:42:00.000-07:00

If there is one childhood memory which simply refuses to be buried in some obscure Hiding Room in my mind, it's my mom or dad, individually or in unison, reminding me how lucky I was or how unlucky they were as kids or a bit of both. Yes, you've heard that one too. And I'm sure you were as defenseless as I was when this was brought up in an argument. And I'm sure you secretly wished you had a kid like immediately, so you could try this secret weapon on him. To my utter surprise, a few older friends of mine admitted that while the memory of their experiences remained as fresh as it could possibly be, since they were still subjected to it, the idea of using this defense mechanism on their own kids seem to have been forgotten. It turns out that at least a decade and half of working life, 19 seasons of Simpsons, and three meaningless editions each of both the ODI and T20 World Cup Cricket seems to have rendered the parenting today into a soft, intimidated version of the one we experienced. Read on.

Anish Mukherjee, a 43-year-old techie remembers how scared he would be on the day his examination report cards were to be collected. Poor grades in any subject would mean he'd be forbidden from watching TV till the next set of exams, on the grounds of spending more time trying to understand his lessons. He still dreads the day his 12-year-old's Report Card PDFs are emailed to him. Poor grades in any subject would mean he'd be forbidden from perusing his RSS feeds till the subsequent set of junior's examinations, on the grounds of spending more time in helping his Prince of Wales understand his lessons.

Sugandha Malviya, a 38-year-old Web Designer fondly remembers how she used to work part-time at the British Library while studying in college, so that she could fulfill her hobby of reading voraciously, and buy more books. She's a firm believer that a child should be passionately involved in a hobby and as a parent, she'd leave no stone unturned to help her 11-year-old develop his personality. Last month, as Sugandha proudly claims, she took up some more freelance web-designing jobs to buy her momo the latest Playstation console for his birthday.

Hritvik Vaidya was not only a good student, but also excelled in extra-curriculars. The 46-year-old Investment Banker used to captain his school's quiz team, and led them to many state-level and some national inter-school quizzes. He continued to have a splendid quizzing record all through his Engineering and MBA days, and even made a mark for himself at Corporate quizzing. If he had one regret, it was that his parents had never really seen him win a quiz in his student years. Today, the Vaidyas positively respond to every Facebook quiz that their teenage daughter participates in.

Suniti Chadda, an Architect by profession reminisces how as a child, she was always seen, but never heard. According to her mother, Suniti would attentively listen to her parents discussing their day at the dining table, quietly finish dinner and then head back to her room to practice her sketching. But her upbringing, insists Suniti, has helped her immensely in meeting the demands of being a working mother today, at a time when children are encouraged to be more expressive. So at the dinner table, Suniti attentively listens to 13-year-old Disha's endless rants about Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince IMAX movie, quietly finishes dinner, and then heads back to her drawing board in the study room.

While the world makes tremendous advances in Sciences & Technology, thus making our lives better everyday, it seems to have done little to make parenting any easier. From the sounds of it, parenting seems to have become more relentless than ever before. Now if only I could tell my folks that they had it much better than I ever will.

Argentine Film

2010-07-01T01:07:00.000-07:00

Lovefield

2010-06-23T00:17:00.000-07:00

Incredible India

2010-06-16T04:52:00.000-07:00

Take it to the next level

2010-06-08T02:03:00.000-07:00

Made to entertain.

2010-06-04T05:43:00.001-07:00

Ode to nice guys...and girls.

2010-05-31T23:06:00.000-07:00

I'd read this 4 years back, and have been looking for this ever since. It was definitely written by one intellectual whore from Wharton. And ever since he published it for the Wharton Undergradute Journal in 2003 (as far as my source suggests), it became a clarion call for all those men who've been suckers for intimacy. But boy, do we love it and keep quoting it. Here is how it reads.

"This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming."

Self pity was never so bad. Really. At least if you could express it the way this chap did. And while every guy raved it, four women decided to work on a counter-argument to this piece. And this was their response.

This is a tribute to the nice girls. These are the girls who are safe. The girls whom guys who have girlfriends are allowed to hang out with because they’re not viewed as a threat. These are the girls who dress respectably . . . they don’t go and get “skank clothes” and parade themselves around, catching the attention of every drooling, testosterone-filled boy on earth. These are the girls who are okay with going to chick-fil-a on a date, hanging out, watching a movie, playing a game, or doing some other low-cost, high-fun form of entertainment. Because after all, it’s really about the quality time that they spend with the guy and not the amount of money that is flowing from his pockets in order to please her every whim and desire (or so he thinks) during the date.

This is in honor of the girls who take the time to ask their guy friends “how’s life?” and to listen carefully when the answer is given. The girls who go out of their way to make cookies or cheer up male friends in distress. Yeah, we know “men are from Mars” and “women are from Venus,” but a simple “thank you” is pretty darn universal.

This goes out to the girls who must sit complacently while their guy friends discuss the “hotness” of the girl at the next table over. They watch as these guys date or lust over each and every self-centered, trashy, insecure, flirtatious, and flighty girl they come into contact with.

When asked, most guys say they would like to date a nice girl. However, when faced with such an opportunity, they claim that “I love her . . .like a little sister” or “there are no such things as nice girls. They’re all evil.” These guys continue to complain about how all girls are “manipulative” and “gossipy” and wonder why in the world they all go to the bathroom at the same time.

But, we must confess, there are guys out there who realize the value of their nice friends who are girls. These are the guys who should be praised for their willingness to go with the flow, hang out, and chill. These guys, however, fail to consider these nice girls as anything more than friends or to step up to the plate and consider them for a Saturday night date or the upcoming dance even though they possess all the qualities that guys claim they are looking for. But, a note to the nice girls. Eventually all guys will (or at least should) realize that they don’t want to have a relationship with a girl who wants all of their money and who will only date them until a guy who is better or more enhancing for her social status comes along. So, until those guys realize what is right in front of them, a word of encouragement to the nice girls. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of being treated like a doormat. In all honesty, you are valuable. Clearly, you possess qualities that cause your guy friends to want to hang out with you. The world needs your encouragement, your willingness to take part in spontaneous activities, your ability to continue to enjoy life even though you watch as countless nasty, malicious female sirens blind the nice guys with their alluring ways. For all of the random, frustrating, and seemingly non-sensical things you tolerate, don’t lose hope. Nice guys do exist and will someday realize that nice girls, who are not evil, exist as well. Fear not, your day will come. And perhaps your prince will too.

err......hummm......I guess it's not such a great feeling to be treated like a foot stool. Maybe we'll never know the feeling. Maybe we need to talk about it. Speaking of which, what are you doing this weekend?

If they pay peanuts, they need monkeys.

2010-05-28T05:22:00.000-07:00

Just read this little story online.

Inside the cage, hang a banana on a string and place a set of stairs under it. Before long, a monkey will go to the stairs and start to climb towards the banana. As soon as he touches the stairs, spray all of the other monkeys with cold water.

After a while, another monkey makes an attempt with the same result - all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon, when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it.

Now, put away the cold water. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one. The new monkey sees the banana and wants to climb the stairs. To his surprise and horror, all of the other monkeys attack him.

After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the stairs, he will be assaulted.

Next, remove another of the original five monkeys and replace it with a new one. The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer takes part in the punishment with enthusiasm! Likewise, replace a third original monkey with a new one, then a fourth, then the fifth. Every time the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked.

Most of the monkeys that are beating him have no idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs or why they are participating in the beating of the newest monkey.

After replacing all the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys have ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, no monkey ever again approaches the stairs to try for the banana. Why not? Because as far as they know that's the way it's always been done round here.

And that, my friends, is how company policies are made.

My cheese moved whom?

2010-05-14T03:19:00.000-07:00

Brilliant Ad.

Redline (2007)

2010-05-06T22:58:00.000-07:00

Redline is proof enough that creative minds are caught in the slowdown, too. It's hard to imagine how anybody worth his D grade in a course on film-making can release a ridiculous movie like this.

Redline features an ensemble cast starring a Mercedes SLR McLaren, a Ford GT, a Ferrari Enzo, a Lamborghini Murcielago Roadster and a Lamborghini Diablo Roadster. At least these have more personality, if not curves, than the actors driving them. Cheesy dialogues, corny one-liners and a masaleydaar plot are the other main ingredients in what is otherwise an automobile orgy with actors being the quintessential well-equipped nurses in a porn flick - mere visual props.

Read complete review here.

Watchmen - Movie Review

2010-05-04T00:12:00.000-07:00

Who watches the Watchmen?

Any comic geek-boy worth his Batman tee and an issue of DC Comics will tell you that this is the phrase that inspired the title for Alan Moore's 12-comic-book magnum opus, Watchmen. But the double entendre that the question becomes with regard to this Zack Snyder cinematic catastrophe seems as perplexing to answer as the rhetoric that the novel sought to address two decades ago.

Read the complete review here.

Indian Panga League

2010-05-01T23:17:00.000-07:00

So why cant Jayawardane ever be the Man of the Match? Because he's a Mahela.
Why cant commentators expand VVS? Because even before they read out his name, there's a new batsmen at the crease.

These and many more at the Indian Panga League. Funny stuff.

What to write about in your blog?

2010-04-27T22:56:00.000-07:00

An acquaintance of mine asked me this question yesterday. And since I have been going through bouts of blogger's (as opposed to writer's) block, I thought I might as well use this question as a subject for the blog. If this is the frustration you experience, I'm not sure this'll help you find a solution. I'm writing this post out of sheer admiration of your problem. Yep, I'm clueless about the problem too, and at the end of this post, I'd know if what I suggest really works.

For starters, I think one should ask himself what does he want to achieve out of running a blog. For me, it's a training ground. I use the blog to strip my mind of all its mess, so that I can go back to writing ad copy (which happens to be my Brittania brown bread earner these days)afresh. So by publishing this entry, I deprive myself of these lame thoughts when I write copy subsequently. Works for me.

One should remember that writing a blog entry is also like writing an essay in school. A blog entry is more than just a set of random words. Together, the words should represent a single thought. So if 'If your name was homework, I'd be doing you on my desk right now.' follows, 'I'd hate to have a kid like me.', you'd be killing two jokes, without a thought. You get the drift, right?

One should always write a blog responsibly, because once you upload a piece, you stand to create an impression. Even a good one, sometimes. But then, just like driving under the influence of alcohol wont cause accidents in the back seat, writing under the influence of testosterone wont result in you laughing all the way to the bed. It may however, land you a writing job in San Fernando valley. So write at your own risk.

If you are trying to cater to an audience, be sure to write about a subject they can relate to. Waxing eloquent about some movie of the 60s that no one has watched, by a famous director nobody acknowledges today will get you neither hits, nor comments. Here's the proof. The only solution to this is back-linking to your previous posts, and the previous link is self-explanatory.

Speaking of the audience which is global, be realistic of the response you'll get. By marooing a PJ in Hinglish, don't expect a blogger in Sierra Leone to recommend you on Stumbleupon. He may however appreciate your list of the 10 most 'civil' war strategies of all time.

And most importantly, learn how to end a blog entry appropriately. It helps if you can qualify your headline and summerise your blog entry in the last paragraph. For instance, it may not help me if I choose to close this paragraph by saying "I still have no clue on what to write about on my blog". Suffice it to say, "This exercise was a failure."

A-List

2010-04-23T03:13:00.000-07:00

Today, I have finally realised that my existence has been rather listless for too long. Therefore it is time to prepare a few lists.

Buy and Large

My visits to super markets have been mostly unsuccessful. Shoppers like me usually resemble Ms. Gratel looking for bread crumbs in a colossal cabootarkhana (Pigeon house). And more often than not, we step out with pangs of regret, for buying something we never needed, or not buying something we badly needed. So here are 5 things I desperately need to pick up the next time I step into a super market:

1. A note pad to maintain To-do lists.
2. A pen to maintain To-do lists.
3. A pinboard to put up To-do lists.
4. Pins, to pin up To-do lists.
5. A paper bin, to dispose off old To-do lists.

Bookkeeping

I have a weakness here. I do not read books I buy, and devour books that I borrow. So from now on, I've decided to gift books to friends, and then borrow it from them. Here Are the books I want to read...err...gift:

1. Bone by Jeff Smith

2. David Boring by Daniel Clowes

3. Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

4. Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison

5. Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

My way is the Highway

I've already spent 87.42% of my life sitting on what my proctologist loves to analyse, so it's time to get a move on. These are the five places I want to visit:

1. Hrishikesh

2. Dharamsala

3. Kanha

4. Ladakh

5. Garo Hills

Face(off)book status

That is my only piece of communication to all my 5079 friends in the world. So it better be a sufficient answer to their collective 'wassup'. This is a list that's working very effectively. My last status message of "THIS IS JUST TO SEE IF CAPS LOCK WILL GET YOU TO LIKE MY STATUS." has prompted Developers at Facebook set up an office at Hyderabad, and introduce a customised thumbs down option. Sometimes your abilities to communicate can indeed change the world for better.

For a definitive list of my status messages, just follow me on Twitter and Facebook. That's only if your life is as listless as mine.

Blogbusters

The 10 readers of this blog some 10 months have gone on to do greater things in life, like give up reading blogs for good and get back to working on their Research Papers. So to inspire the next 10 readers, I hereby announce that this blog entry will end here, rather abruptly. And the forthcoming entries will neither have anything of significance, nor will it be of any literary or entertainment value. So kindly go back to Shashi Tharoor's Tweets, Mandira Bedi's Blog or Axxo's torrents. Peace.

It's the time to Salsa

2010-04-21T22:57:00.000-07:00

Grad School is like Kindergarten?

2010-04-21T02:40:00.001-07:00

Celebrate Football, like Roger Milla.

2010-04-20T21:38:00.000-07:00

Love this ad. Brought back fond memories of watching Fifa '90 on Doordarshan.

Academy Award winning Movie trailer

2010-04-15T23:18:00.000-07:00

Think Different.

2010-04-13T22:23:00.001-07:00

Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They are not fond of the rules, and they have no respect for status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do, is ignore them; because they change things. They push the human race, forward. And while some may seem them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to believe they can change the world, are the ones who do.

Countdown to the Commonwealth Games

2010-04-12T00:55:00.000-07:00

Before we begin, let us remind you that this report is late. Of course, you may have understood that the Commonwealth Games are a matter of national pride. Which is why, we have decided to incorporate a ‘desi’ feel to it wherever applicable. And a late report is therefore putting our best Kolhapuri-clad foot forward.

Firstly, we had to tackle security. From the maoists. From the militants. And even from Mamta Bannerjee. On the lady’s advice, farmers raised a hue and cry demanding their land back. As it turned out, the sporting facilities were being constructed on agricultural land. When the media contacted Ratan Tata for his opinion, the gentleman responded with a god-bless-your-souls tone, “The authorities will have a tough time in trying to derail Mamta Di’s forces. We’d learnt it the hard way. The government will have to beef up security for the participating nations.”

We then moved to the home ministry with the request. The response was far from ideal. “Our forces have been preoccupied. The forces have been assigned to various roles in Kashmir, North East, maoist-occupied India, states having their ‘annual’ elections and the venues of IPL matches. And currently, we are short-staffed. We are not able to match the employment terms of our rivals, and as a result there is a hiring freeze. We will have to look at other avenues.”

Desperate for ideas, our officials knock on the doors of Mr. Lalit Modi. After listening to the concerns of the committee, Mr. Modi astutely recommended, “Why don’t we move the games to South Africa. Anyway, you will not be earning so much of revenue from the sale of tickets as compared to television rights. Besides, it’ll save you several operational headaches. And most importantly, in the future, nobody will take your event for granted”.

Amazed at Modi’s presence of mind, our officials prepare to have talks with our counterparts in South Africa. But then Modi returns with another masterstroke. “Why don’t we just hold a bidding to decide the new venue of the Commonwealth Games. We’ll issue tenders to everyone who’d want to own the hosting rights of the Commonwealth Games. I’ll offer myself as the commissioner for the Commonwealth Games and deal with all interested parties.” We simply couldn’t believe their ears. We hadn’t imagined we’d been sitting on a landmine all this while.

The news was out. There would be a fresh auction for the hosting of Commonwealth Games, six months before the actual event. “If we could shift the IPL in a little under two months, I’m sure we could host the Commonwealth games three times in 6 months.", said a confident Modi.

The one clause that was added for the benefit of the host was that they could field a contingent by acquiring athletes from any part of the world. But they’d have to be suitably remunerated. This changed the dynamics of the games. Suddenly athletes from Australia, Canada, Britain and Jamaica who had expressed security concerns earlier, now expressed their availability to represent the new entity that would host the Commonwealth Games. The clause also stated that the new entity could only field one foreign athlete per sport, but had to fill the rest from their catchment areas. The definition of ‘catchment areas’ was then worked upon by a team of legal experts. Insider sources revealed that a catchment area would be a geographical area that had a population of at least 500 million citizens.

This prompted a huge response from prospective bidders in the BRIC nations. The European Union decided to form a consortium, since that would give them a strong entry into the Commonwealth games. The White House announced their interest, and President Obama and his team worked on yet another Cannes-winning campaign to garner public support in winning the hosting rights.

The team from Australia backed out. The Australian spokesman was heard saying, “We just do not have the resources to participate in the auction. We’ll have to settle with mere participation in the games. Also, we have to prepare for fresh competition from the new host. Our top position at the Commonwealth Games is no longer assured like in the past.” Teams from Britain and Canada followed suit, awaiting the results of the auction.

The auction proved to very competitive. The Chinese lost out because their delegates did not understand the English auctioneer. Brazil, Russia and the EU lost out to the might of an American and an Indian consortium. Eventually, the American consortium pulled the plug and forfeited the hosting rights to the Indian consortium; realizing that to cut operational costs, they would have to outsource operations to India anyway. The Indian team was triumphant. “The hosting rights was ours in the first place”, said an official proudly brandishing the tri-colour. While the Indian Consortium is still to reveal its members, the news is that it was a union of the Indian Home Ministry, the Indian Sports Ministry, and the IPL. “There was complete transparency in the entire process”, assured Commissioner Lalit Modi.

It was decided that ‘Mumbai Indians’ would be the name of the contingent from the host’s side, and that they are on a major recruiting spree. One Swiss Tennis player, one African long distance runner, one Russian gymnast and one American Golfer (who will only closely follow the pretty Russian gymnast out of an old habit) have already confirmed their participation with the ‘Indians’. Meanwhile, the Home Ministry is reported to be working overtime to address the security concerns of participating nations. Watch this space for more.

PS: This is a figment of the author’s imagination. If any real event bares even the slightest resemblance to the one in this article, kindly congratulate the author on his accuracy.

What men want?

2010-04-08T22:22:00.000-07:00

I really think there is some material for a hollywood flick here.

The death of reading.

2010-04-07T02:14:00.000-07:00

This is a damn cool video. Check it out. Thanks Pallavi, for the link.

My daily bowl of Pai-sm

2010-04-01T22:42:00.000-07:00

Yea, my new hobby is soon becoming an addiction of sorts. So much so that I've limited my thoughts to 140 characters.

Here are some of my favourite FB status messages:

An awesome creative exercise for budding copywriters - writing a new FB status everyday.

Always have a long and controversial status message. Only the jobless will respond.

Sudhir Pai is a semi-machine gun that resembles an MP5, of Norwegian Spirit, on its way to NY City! Just SHOOT ME!

Said Perf, "I keep waiting and waiting, and then if I still don't find a reply for my message,I know it's you".

I just failed miserably in the "How well do you know Sudhir Pai?" quiz.

Everything is fair in love and 'mafia wars'.

" Is there a face-Booker prize for the best status message?", asks VJ.

The last ad agency on earth.

2010-03-27T09:46:00.000-07:00

Truly astonishing piece of work.