Dementia* makes global rounds

* Based on the definition: significant loss of intellectual abilities such as memory capacity, severe enough to interfere with social or occupational functioning.

The giant waves of Poshivtive Senatiments in Mumbai had made me jittery enough to think twice before settling here. Now I wonder why I thought so coming from chennai, where we are as broad minded as "Ajab Prem ki Gajab Kahani" is well-scripted. Where Mumbai is struggling, Chennai succeeded. Where Chennai succeeded, US of A is flying high with Nile Gardiner at the helm, who with a job description of a foreign affairs/movies analyst, performs an anti-US-propoganda check on every movie watched. His brilliant analysis is clearly visible in one of the comments he makes for "Avatar:

When I saw the movie last night in a packed theatre, I was disturbed by the cheering from the audience towards the end when the humans – US soldiers fighting on behalf of an American corporation – were being wiped out by the Na’vi. Washington is one of the most liberal cities in America and you come to expect almost anything here – but still the roars of approval which greeted the on-screen killing of US military personnel were a shock to the system, especially at a time when the United States is engaged in a major war in Afghanistan


He reminds me of the "black and white" tool in MS-Paint:

American soldiers - white. Washington - White.
Fighting - White. US-generated war - White.

Afganistan - Black. Killing US military Personnel for perfectly valid reasons - Black. Criticism for taking innocent lives - Black.

Atonement - Ian McEwan

Synopsis:
One girl's atonement for an innocent and life changing error in judgment due to an over-zealous imagination.

Category:
Words-wordy, Serious

Genre:
Drama

Language:
Simple Language, Minimal Profanity.

Favorite Quote:
Only in a story could you enter different minds and show how they had an equal value.

Review:
Atonement is my first Ian McEwan read. So I really didn't know what to expect out of it. It was much more than the first part's family drama; the second part's after effects of war, and definitely much more than a young woman's atonement for her crime for almost 64 years.

The book starts with the gathering of the Tallis family at their country house in 1935. 12-year old Briony is the youngest in the household, preceded by her elder brother Leon and sister Cecilia. She is engrossed in preparing a play for Leon's homecoming, casting her cousins Lola and twin brothers Jackson and Pierrot and thus, proves to be a perfect object for Ian McEwan to show the oddities of a writer's mind. For example, on hearing about her cousins' parents' divorce, Briony muses - "She vaguely knew that divorce was an affliction, but she did not regard it as a proper subject, and gave it no thought. It was a mundane unraveling that could not be reversed, and therefore offered no opportunities to the storyteller; it belonged in the realm of disorder." In fact, through Briony, Ian McEwan admits that "Self-exposure was inevitable the moment she described a character's weakness; the reader was bound to speculate that she was describing herself. What other authority could she have?"

Cecilia on the other hand, had recently returned from Cambridge and was busy sorting out her feelings for her childhood friend and university acquaintance, Robbie Turner. An encounter between them near the garden fountain makes them aware of the strong undercurrents running between them. While Cecilia is still too angry to think it through, Briony's singular thought, watching unobserved from her window, was the way of describing that incident in written form. "She could write the scene three times over, from three points of view", which, interestingly, is how the author has narrated the scene. Ian, (through Briony) believes that "Only in a story could you enter different minds and show how they had an equal value", thus effectively summing up the narrative style of atonement.

By the time Leon arrives in the Tallis house with his friend Paul Marshall, all the three main characters are facing internal conflicts, holding a promise of an explosive conclusion by the end of the night. We are not disappointed.

Robbie, for his part, pens down his feelings for Cecilia, but in his haste, passes on the wrong and much cruder version of the note to her through Briony. Briony, on reading it, decides that Cecilia was threatened and needs to be protected. Her overripe (and immature) imagination results in the commitment of a gross error in judgement, which has a long-lasting impact on everyone involved.

While Part one of the book, dramatic that it is, is set in the relatively calm atmosphere of the country house, the second part of the book is set in the world war II in 1940, a time when the British expeditionary force was retreating from France. Robbie had now joined the army and was leading his team towards the channel to escape to the United Kingdom. Through written and re-read letters from Cecilia, we learn that she had broken ties with her family and had become a nurse. After the eventful night, they had met three and a half years later, a day before Robbie had to report for duty. It is through one of these letters that we come to find that Briony had, surprisingly, taken up nurses' training and wanted to meet Cecilia. Cecilia is excited about the thought that Briony may want to recant and change her evidence. The possibility of that makes Cecilia very excited, and Robbie hopeful.
Walking through barren lands, with taunting corporals and looking our for air attacks, this hope is the only thing that seems to keep him determined to reach the channel. When they finally reach it, they face a sight that should have been obvious to them earlier: Thousands of soldiers spread across the beach, but no boat to take them back. The chapter ends with the soldiers waiting for the next boat to take them back to England.

Part three of the book shows the war's opposite side of the coin - The plight of the soldiers and of the doctors and nurses attending them in England. There is a subtle and noticeable change in narration to suit the situation. While the earlier chapter described the miseries of war in as crisp a manner as possible, this chapter builds on the shock and awe factor of the war. Briony is undergoing hers nurses' training under Sister Marjorie Drummond, of "menacing meagre smile and softening of manner that preceded her fury". Briony's busy rituals in the hospital and her constant run-ins with Sister are charted out in an amusing and at times, pitiable manner. Briony unsuccessfully carrying a stretcher was, for example, equally funny and horrifying. Briony then hears of the British army retreating from France, and hopes that Robbie had survived it. As fate would have it, the injured British army are sent to her hospital for treatment. McEwan makes us wince at every page and sentence with graphic descriptions of the war wounds and Briony steadily improving efforts at treating them.
We keep waiting for the moment when Briony would come face to face with an injured Robbie and nurse him back to health. As Briony herself imagines "she would dress his wounds withought knowing who he was, and with cotton-wool tenderly rub his face till his features emerged, and how he would turn to her in gratitude, realise who she was, and take her hand, and in silently squeezing it, forgive her".

After the horrors of the war patients, Briony goes on to meet Cecilia the next day . She finds Robbie there with her, and her relief in finding him safe and well is almost negated by her dread of confronting them both together for what she had come to say.

I will have to admit that while part II was interesting, even though it did nothing to the spine of story, part III was, to a large extent disappointing. The climax of the part, the confrontational scene between Briony, Cecilia and Robbie, fell short of expectations somewhere and became unrealistic. Cecilia, "murmuring" to Robbie to "come back", seemed to come straight out of a romantic novel.

It is the final part of the book which clinches it. Any complaints that we may have had in the first few parts of the book are answered and put in perspective here. To say more would spoil the impact this chapter had.

The brilliance of the narration is in getting multiple points of view across. For instance, during his idle times of retreat, Robbie wonders what could have led to Briony blaming him for a crime he did not commit. His memories take him back to an incident when Briony had innocently admitted she loved him, and he wondered if that had carried on through the years, and this was one way of avenging herself for his apparent betrayal. Later on, during Briony's narration we come to find that her love for Robbie was just a passing fad and she had forgotten about it as soon as she had confessed to him.

Another equally interesting idea was to include an editor's review for the story written till now. We can easily notice that the review comments have in fact been incorporated into the first part of the story, in a way explaining why the narrative style is the way it . For instance, the editor, through his letter, says, "Rather than dwell for quite so long on the perceptions of each of the three figures, would it not be possible to set them before us with greater economy", thus justifying the need for showing the perceptions of the three characters in more detail.

McEwan's biography helped in understanding certain characteristics of the story better. While I have read and reviewed this purely assuming that it is a drama, I understand now, that it should have been read as “drama set in World War II era”. So, instead of saying it is a woman’s atonement for 64 years, it should rather be, a woman’s atonement during world war for 64 years. The detailed descriptions of the retreat, which I found dragging at times, and the graphic descriptions of the injuries, which I found irrelevant, are what lifted the story from being characterised as “just a family drama”.


Verdict:
Needs time and patience, but should not be given a miss.

F1 for this blog!

"I can read better than anyone who can read faster, and I can read faster than anyone who can read better."

For the sake of clarity(mine) and for lesser degree of subjectivity, I thought of some Key Performance Indicators for judging a book. Here goes:

1. Synopsis: A one or two line description of the book's contents
2. Category:
Style of writing:

• Wiki-wordy - Usage of convoluted and unnecessarily complicated words
• Words-wordy - Usage of too many words
• Simple-wordy - A simple NCERT kind of a write-up - just enough to convey the message

Story line:

• Nail-Biting
• Witty
• Serious
• Funny

3. Genre:

• Non-Fiction
• Children
• Fantasy
• Horror
• Sci-Fi
• Thriller/Page-turner
• Poetry
• Biography
• Autobiography
• Romance
• Drama
• Fiction ( any book which doesn't fit in the above category)

4. Language: More of a profanity alert.

5. Favorite Quote: Any interesting quote(s) in the book

6. Review: The section with the detailed review of the book.

7. Verdict: The final recommendation

The Queen

The air was filled with anticipation,
the whole town was in an uproar,
Expectations and excitement mounted,
While there were celebrations galore.

To make the perfect crown and throne,
the best witches of the kingdom were called,
With flashes of fire and ancient power,
They were slowly and intricately wrought.

On the appointed day, the whole town assembled,
To watch the anointing of their queen,
The palace, though decked in silver and gold,
Looked intimidating for all its sheen.

The princess came dressed in black,
And a cheer rang out in the hall,
The drums rolled and the throne trembled,
but the bards’ songs overrode them all.

The crown was placed on her head,
Cold diamonds among warm rubies,
She smiled and sat gingerly on the throne,
And the crowd started chanting on their knees.

The spikes in the crown dug into her head,
Drilling deeper while she sat straight,
The throne hissed, twisted and melted,
Re-molding itself to absorb her weight.

The palace erupted in cheers,
for the princess that had once been,
Their hearts swollen and eyes filled,
As they looked at their eternal queen.

Catch

wait a minute Mr.fly!
what are you trying to imply?
don't you believe the promises i make?
do you believe I am that big a fake?

But Mr.lizard, understand me,
I'm the predated, can't you see?
my friends are killed by you everyday,
what more do i need to say?

My reputation precedes me,
I just want to play see?
a simple game of hide-n-seek,
I promise to be polite and very meek.

finally Mr.fly did agree to play,
persuaded by Mr.lizard day after day,
and they played every game under the sun,
oh, it was turning out to be so much fun!

one day they decided to try catch-catch,
Mr.fly was sure to win this match,
for who could overtake him in flying?
but Mr.lizard was all game for trying.

"start" and he spread his wings,
watching happily Mr.lizard starts to sing,
out came his sticky tongue and the fly was caught,
with a shocked oath, he valiantly fought.

"let me go, this was not the deal,
this is cheating, that's what I feel!"
"you stuck your wings in me sir,
it is not my mistake you hear?,

I just wanted to play with you,
but right now I am angry too,
for the trust not bestowed on me,
you have to pay a small fee."

With that he swallowed the fly,
and started chewing with a sad sigh.

Ideas

I am not exactly weight conscious, but I am definitely shape conscious.. especially when the shape is moving steadily from a

• drumstick to a yam
• an hourglass to a barrel
• coconut tree to a Banyan tree

So well, when I started putting on weight, I spent a lot of my precious time fretting about the unseemly result. After almost a year of just that followed up with short-term GM diets, and ad-hoc yoga exercises..

Lightening finally struck in the form of Abhishek Bachan in a doctor's garb sexily uttering.."just walk when you talk".

What were earlier a joke and a tease, later turned out to be very effective. It started with walking almost two hours everyday while talking to Ashwin. That was followed by climbing six stairs to office while, err, talking to myself.

The end result?

• I don't huff and puff at the end of the sixth floor.
• It gives me a perfect and energising start to a day.
• I felt unexplainably smug and proud to be able to do it.
• I haven't compromised on any of my unhealthy food habits.
• I haven't lost as much weight as I would have wanted.

Eh? Well ya, I haven't, but I have definitely become

• A carrot perhaps, if not a yam
• A cylinder, if not an hourglass,
• Eucalyptus tree if not a coconut tree.

So well, there!
**smug**

Spray Painting!

PHAT!
Man 2: Eww! Don't spit on the road!
Splash!
Man 2: Spitting turns women off by the way.
Sluurrpp - Phat!
Man 2: It grosses them out! Look at her. She has actually turned away in disgust!
Man 1: What should I do then?
Man 2: Follow my lead now.
Man 1: You are eyeing the same girl?
(Chew chew)
Man 1: Careful, its leaking!
(Tip Tip Splash)
Man 1: Trying to keep it in is even worse man! The DAMe is just Not interestED (DAMNED!!

(wiping off)
Man 2: Well, not our fault is it? DAMNED if you do it, DAMNED if you don't.

Of all the habits Indians have, spitting on the road is, by far, the most disgusting and revolting one! While the majority of south Indians prefer decorating the road with flesh colored spit, the North Indians, believe in painting the town red, literally.

This post is inspired by a certain gentleman in bus today, who standing near the bus door, was releasing one rocket after another!
PHAT SPLASH PHAT PHAT PHAT!

Color me Brown!

A new poem after long - feels liberating!

After 9 months, Vishnu heaved a contented sigh,
and finally opened Laxmi's eyes,
"Behold my dear, my latest model in line,
to be released into this world on may 29".

Laxmi took a long look at me and frowned,
"her color is not right my lord.
can you create a skin anew,
with perhaps, basic colors few?"

Vishnu then huffed and began to sulk,
for it seemed, Laxmi didnt like his work.
he immediately called his resources,
and started adding colors in ample doses.

"There you see Laxmi, 5 cups of fire,
is it red enough for your heart's desire?"

"I am happy my Lord but I do wonder,
wont that make her nasty and quick to anger?"

"Rest your mind dear, and help me think,
will 3 cups of air be enough to make this pink?"

"She is pretty indeed my lord, but surely,
air will make her absent-minded and more girly?"

"true honey but now she needs more blue,
2 cups of water ought to give the right hue."

"would you never listen to what you are told?,
this will make her sweat in hot and freeze in cold"

"Alas I can't undo since the skin is already sown,
but will 5 cups of earth give it enough of a brown?"

"finally love, you think right,
for against all the elements this will fight,
for all her weaknesses, she has one true boon,
one single smile to lift her out of her gloom.

So,thats how I was made,
absent-minded and walking in a daze,
quick to anger, despite a cool skin,
and the ability to hide it all behind a grin.

So, in the attempts of Vishnu to please his well-meaning wife, I was made the way I was. But of course, the obvious advantage in this chaotic skin creation was just that - My chaos is only skin-deep.

Note: As Anupama rightly points out, Brahma is our creator and Vishnnu the preserver. So I stand corrected. I was not created by Vishnu, I was sent to him for system upgradation.

Giftrocity!

This is a crib. So, I will totally understand if you want to forego this post.

While cleaning my room a few days back, I came across an offensive piece of item. It was beautifully packed, nicely explained and must have cost a fortune. It was a set of three soaps, made from natural ingredients and was meant to be an "indulgence" according to the elaborate pamphlet that came with it. Hmmm.

I am all for indulgence, and I am definitely all for natural items. But I draw a line at thinking of soaps as decent gifts. That set my mind racing, thinking of other gifts that I have thrown out, without telling the giver of course.
Now, if you are one of those "need to buy something for everyone” types planning a visit to India, I will let you in on a little secret.

1. We don't care about the cost of what you got us. We appreciate the thought that went behind it.
2. We will like you less if you buy potentially offensive gifts.
3. It hurts us to see something silly stuffed into our hands, while thoughts of “Can I pass it on to someone else?”, “Can I put it in dustbin after she leaves?”, ”Will it be toxic for the street dogs?”, ”Can I give her something equally bad?” keeps running through our heads.

Here is a list of all I could think of. Please add or delete depending on your preferences:

1. Soaps - There is a difference between cheap perfumes and expensive soaps. The latter is offensive, boring, unnecessary or unused, depending on the person. For me it is all of that.
2. Diaries/Notebooks - We get notebooks here. We actually get pretty good papers too. It might be unbelievable for the kind of people saying "India does not have a Nike showroom like States!" (Thanks jiju for that tidbit!)
3. Postcards/Showpieces with "we love XXX" written on them (XXX being the name of the country/continent) - by far the most annoying gift ever. Do you all believe we would hang it in our rooms with "that" written over it? What would we get out of such promotional activities really?
4. Wallpapers/Plastic sheets for shelves/Cheap plastic table mats - I have always had the urge to fling these rolls outside. Jeez, wall papers! I was unbelievably happy when one of them was half-consumed by insects, and I had to discard it with a morose look.
5. Any flick-offs from flights or hotels- A pack of cards, bookmarks, and small lotion bottles etc are downright insulting. Passing on free gifts is a pretty low thing to do.

On second thoughts, bad gifts make up for a fairly enjoyable cribbing session! So, may the giftrocities continue.

You've got mail.. and a faulty mail client!

What is more annoying than Microsoft Outlook?
IBM Lotus Notes

What is more annoying than IBM Lotus Notes?
Lotus Notes that take a loong time to load.

What is more annoying than Lotus Notes that takes a long time to load?
Lotus notes that gets hung while archiving old mails (which was unfortunately attempted to reduce loading time)

What is more annoying than Lotus notes that hangs while archiving and also, takes a long time to load?
Lotus Notes that doesn't allow sending of mails due to exceeded mailbox limit.

What is more annoying than Lotus Notes that doesn't allow sending of mails due to exceeded mailbox limit, gets hung wile archiving, and also takes a long time to load?
Lotus Notes that suddenly restricts opening of new or old mails with a weird message of "You are not authorized to perform that operation"

What is more annoying than Lotus Notes that restricts opening or sending of mails, gets hung wile archiving, and also takes a long time to load?
Lotus notes that throws recursive error of CircularDocException, and will not come out of the loop until one finally gives up, closes the application with a ctrl-alt-del.

What is more annoying than Lotus notes that throws recursive error of CircularDocException, restricts opening or sending of mails, gets hung while archiving, and also takes a long time to load?
Calling the maintenance personnel while fretting about the delays in meeting deadlines, waiting for them to fix the problem for 5 hours, and finally, profusely thank them at the good repair work patiently done, only to see the problem recurring the next day.

**Sigh!!**

I pledge that

India is my country.
All Indians are my brothers and sisters.

Err... Except for

• Sisters leaning on me in buses expecting me to carry their abundant weight, and provide the much needed balance.
• Brothers or sisters not wanting to be Indians.
• Brothers or sisters talking against my parents, Aarti, Rishi or Ashwin.

I love my country,

Err... except when:

• bus windows are mistaken for dust-bins, and hands keep darting outside to throw offensive papers and plastics outside.
• horns are used in abundance to show lane-changes, signal-changes, anger, joy or to intimate the breaking of traffic rules.
• traffic constables use anything from no helmets to smiling while driving to collect pocket-money.

and I am proud of its rich and varied heritage.

Err... except when:

• Trans-sexuals are not allowed inside share-autos by most drivers, with a laughing explanation of "they are gay"!
• any fight on the roads are written off as "they must be muslims"
• any high decibel conversation is written off as "they must be Punjabis"
• A dark-colored person is invariably a South-Indian negro.

I shall always strive to be worthy of it.

Especially when:

• The aut-wallahs give tired ladies lift free of cost.
• A person driving at 30-50 kmph stops to check whats wrong with your bike, and helps you start it if it is not working.
• Men call up blue-cross on seeing a hurt dog on the road, and then sit beside the dog to give him company.
• Men or women give up their hard-earned seats to ladies carrying infants, or to old or pregnant women.
• Kids implicitely take off their shirts and donate them to street kids with a smile on their face.

I shall give my parents, teachers and all elders, respect, and treat everyone with courtesy.
To my country and my people, I pledge my devotion.
In their well being and prosperity alone, lies my happiness

Fantasy Fiction

How can J.K. Rowling, Christopher Paolini, Robert Jordan and Tolkien create such wonderful, new worlds?! Inventing new characters, new powers, more senses than five or six, new places, new games, new rules, new government, new species and what not?!
But there is a catch here. There is a necessity to read all the series written by these four brilliant writers one at a time. You mix them up, you better start reading again. I found that out at a very time-consuming cost.

I started with the Harry Potter series, and am more than glad that it’s over. That helped me enjoy it to the fullest and live the different world effectively for many years.
Then I made the biggest mistake of my book-worm life. I took the following treacherous path:

1. Eye of the World - Wheel Of Time (WoT) Series


2. Eragon - Inheritence Series (IS)


3. Eldest - IS


4. The Fellowship of the ring - Lord Of the Rings (LOTR)


5. Brisingr (started) - IS




• Googled for IS, read the wiki entry to refresh my meory.


6. Brisingr (completed) - IS


7. The Great Hunt (Started) - WoT




• Googled for LOTR, to find where I am going wrong in understanding


• Googled for WoT to discover that I had completely forgotten the plot, and mixed it up with Inheritence series


• Googled for IS, to find out what is WoT, IS and LOTR.


• Make a Venn Diagram for future reference.. ggrrrrr!

Warning:

Kindly don't repeat the mistake that I did. If you have done it already, here is a little something for reference.

However, this does not guarantee a confusion-free reading, as the three series are deeply inter-connected. You may have to re-read everything again. What with WoT spanning 11 books, and still going strong, you don't want to take THAT risk!

Disclaimer:

I am a consultant and a follower of KrishAshok - hence propagating the usage of charts and graphs.

Originality!

Angry Scolding Self(ASS): Hey!!
Me(M): Mmm (Yawn) You talkin' to me?

ASS: Yes I am! You can't sleep now.
M: But, My preciousss!
ASS: Don't preciouss me! Medicinal sleep in never an excuse.
M: Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. zzzzzzz

ASS: Hey what the hell?! Hello!!! ARCHA....
M: Cut it out! You had me at hello.
ASS: Better, now what?
M: I am going to make an offer you can't refuse - 5 minutes nap break, pretty please?

ASS: Fine, 5 minutes it is. I'll be back.
M: You know, for a little woman, you do make a lot of noise!!
ASS: I am big! Its the pictures that got small.
M: *snort* You can at least use original lines!

After 5 minutes...
ASS: 5-minute power nap is over! Wake up!
M: (Still Groggy) I think I have Houston (Horrible Occurences CaUsing Sleep Taking Over at Noon)
ASS: Sh*t! Houston? We have a problem!!
M: No we don't. Let me sleep through this afternoon. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Disclaimer: For the sake of originality, check this out!

Up or down?

When we were young, we used to play a really fun game called,
‘color color what color do you choose?’
We had this paper model in hand, with grooves created for each of our four fingers. The moment one color is chosen, that person has to run and find an object of that color.

Then we grew up and started playing a different game:
‘Up or down, down or up, what approach would you choose?’
To the uninitiated, I refer to top-down and bottom-up approach. (To whoever coined these terms: You really didn’t realize that they have such obvious double meanings??).

This elaborate and unnecessary preamble is for showing my skepticism towards bottom-up approach. I think it works well in:

• Market research: Forecasting
• Coding: Creating solution modules for customers.

But where common sense and logic are involved, bottom-up approach totally messes up one’s mind.
For example, lets use the 2009 watch-word – recession. We know its here, and its doing a lot of damage (biggest understatement of this year perhaps). Consider the following exchange:
Q: How do you prove that recession is affecting international trade?
A: Simple, look at the export-import levels between countries.

Q: Well, um, they seem to have increased in the last month of 2008.
A: But recession is here. Q3 and Q4, show a downward trend right?

Q: Oh , well, so do Q1 and Q2.
A: Ignore that. That could have been due to oil price increase..

The above is, thankfully, a hypothetical example ( They do show a perfectly logical downward trend – whew!).
But, this is what happens when we know the end result. The data, current as well as historical, help us in validating the results, albeit subjectively.

Most of the time, our thinking is also bottom-up. For example,

• A highly advertised beautiful scenery spot will appear beautiful even if it is just overlooking a bunch of dry trees and shrubs.
• I-phone is a ‘value-for-money’ product even if it lacks some basic mobile features (the dictionary for one!)
• Rollercoaster are scary-exciting rides because they go upside down, though we don’t feel much of it.

In all these cases, we have the conclusion fed into us. We just back it up with data supporting the advertised claims, and form the main body of the matter.

Reminds me of the Ishikawa or Fish-bone diagram, and how easily it can be misused. Ishikawa would have named himself after hearing someone say:

What a fultoos time-pass Kishi ka wah wah

or maybe its an acronym of:

It’s a Shit k(c)Ausing Wasted Analysis

Ok, perhaps not that either.

This post has been inspired by Michael Crichton’s book State of Fear. I am not for or against global warming, but its true that whenever a change in climate occurs (“its hotter than last year”, “we haven’t had such rains in over 20 years”), we just use one phrase (including me) – It’s the effect of global warming.

Raezidyr

Raezidyr*

Raezidyr sat by his favourite brook,
Flexing and oiling his wings,
Impatient, he stifled a sigh,
Listening to Haeli talk.

“toe heel calf knee,
Start from bottom, see?
You should be gentle, but quick”
She whispered tensely.

“But Haeli, I know this already!”,
He whined, exasperated,
“I’ll be good on my first day,
Please don’t worry about me”

Detecting enthusiasm in his terse replies,
Haeli felt nervous, but happy.
Leading him to his first task,
she nervously oversaw his work.

Working on the giant smooth and fast,
Raezidyr massaged from toe to head,
He finally felt the knotted muscles loosen,
And tasted sweet success at last!

He must have made a noise small,
For the beast woke up suddenly in shock,
Raezidyr flew out through the window,
With an angry Haeli at heel.

The human kept staring at the fairies,
Wondering what was wrong with her,
“black spots again! Do I have BP?”
She muttered and went back to sleep.

She got up in the morning with a sigh,
Yawning widely, she said with a smile,
“what a refreshing sleep, I feel rejuvenated!”.
Listening, Raezidyr beamed at Haeli with pride.

* pronounced as Re-zee-dir

Have you heard this story of a cobbler, who was very poor and could not sell most of his work? Then, feeling pity on him, every night after his going to sleep, these tiny fairies would come out and make fine, intricate, and beautiful shoes for him. He would sleep with half-finished work, and wake up to find his work completed! He quickly became successful and lived happily ever after!

I just started wondering how we wake up energised after every sleep! Maybe we are worked upon by tiny fairies too, who massage our hands and feet and make us feel fresher each morning!

Bowled over!

I chanced upon a website by Koldo Barrosso. He is a fantasy story-teller and an illustrator. His characters, protaganists' names, and sketches are so unique, and unlike anything I have ever seen! Writing doesn't do enough justice to him, so attaching links to some of his works:
http://www.koldobarroso.com/portrait-of-lady-zakharova-2/
http://www.koldobarroso.com/lady-pennington-the-tzoo-tzoo-2/
http://www.koldobarroso.com/sketches-for-christmas-card/

Whew! When I see something like this, I realise how little I have really done!

Noise levels - in a book?

Books are like colofully lit magical boxes with beautiful or interesting thoughts floating inside them. Any book is meant to be lovingly held, cherished and opened, so that the one reading the book can bask in these lights and floating thoughts.

The above corny lines are mine, and I believe in them everytime I open a new book. That is why when a book disappoints me, it feels like I have been slapped hard by each floating thought, and blinded by excessive lighting.
The slapping and blinding happens when there is too much of noise in a book. Noise, in this case, is commonly termed as 'wordy'.

Theoretically, ( my theory that is), there can be two types of 'wordy' books:

• Words-wordy:This is when simplicity simmers and whimpers everytime she is ignored. For example,the previous sentence is wordy. I could have said that ignoring simplicity is undesirable. Even if that sounds unappetizing, its simple. With patience and the right frame of mind, words-wordy books can be read and enjoyed. ( We all like Rushdie don't we?)
• Wiki-Wordy:This results in a book full of irrelevant knowledge and facts, a classic symptom of a megalomaniac writer. I don't know what it takes to tolerate a wikipedia-type-wordy book.

Let me know tell you a story:

Once there lived an Indian Woman in a foreign land. She thought and made herself believe that she could write well. She took all the necessary courses and decided to make her debut with a collection of short stories. But she wanted to show how MUCH she knew, how rich her (cross) cultural knowledge is. So she ended up writing stories that could have been summed up in one line, but dragged on for 30-odd pages.

That is how, I ended up reading the story of a woman's survival after divorce. The author decided to take the seldom-used path, and covered the whole plathora of topics ranging from the protaganist's village, her husband's family, his work(which, for all of 5 pages, still remained a mystery), to the typical east-west divide, our cultural values, abortions, divorce and finally, her making out with another woman.

Most of the poets and writers are full of themselves and want to be in the spotlight in every forum and have maximum hits to their name in google. For example, when they are introduced to a person X with a "You know, X has written many short stories and has got herself published in so-and-so", these people go with, "Oh its a pleasure to meet you. You write stories? I understand, I myself have written more than you can even count, got more of my works published than you any-day, and can beat ou up in any contest, should it ever happen".

Beware of these specimen. They argue for the sake of arguing, do a lot of google to make their write-ups seem intelligent, and write stories, which can be easily renamed as "what's on wikipedia" or "Did you know? I do".

PS: I could have made this post shorter, but this post is a tribute to all the editors, who are scared to let the writers know that half of the book is a truckload of .. undigestable stuff. grrrr.

Noise levels - in a book?

Books are like colofully lit magical boxes with beautiful or interesting thoughts floating inside them. Any book is meant to be lovingly held, cherished and opened, so that the one reading the book can bask in these lights and floating thoughts.

The above corny lines are mine, and I believe in them everytime I open a new book. That is why when a book disappoints me, it feels like I have been slapped hard by each floating thought, and blinded by excessive lighting.
The slapping and blinding happens when there is too much of noise in a book. Noise, in this case, is commonly termed as 'wordy'.

Theoretically, ( my theory that is), there can be two types of 'wordy' books:

• Words-wordy:This is when simplicity simmers and whimpers everytime she is ignored. For example,the previous sentence is wordy. I could have said that ignoring simplicity is undesirable. Even if that sounds unappetizing, its simple. With patience and the right frame of mind, words-wordy books can be read and enjoyed. ( We all like Rushdie don't we?)
• Wiki-Wordy:This results in a book full of irrelevant knowledge and facts, a classic symptom of a megalomaniac writer. I don't know what it takes to tolerate a wikipedia-type-wordy book.

Let me know tell you a story:

Once there lived an Indian Woman in a foreign land. She thought and made herself believe that she could write well. She took all the necessary courses and decided to make her debut with a collection of short stories. But she wanted to show how MUCH she knew, how rich her (cross) cultural knowledge is. So she ended up writing stories that could have been summed up in one line, but dragged on for 30-odd pages.

That is how, I ended up reading the story of a woman's survival after divorce. The author decided to take the seldom-used path, and covered the whole plathora of topics ranging from the protaganist's village, her husband's family, his work(which, for all of 5 pages, still remained a mystery), to the typical east-west divide, our cultural values, abortions, divorce and finally, her making out with another woman.

Most of the poets and writers are full of themselves and want to be in the spotlight in every forum and have maximum hits to their name in google. For example, when they are introduced to a person X with a "You know, X has written many short stories and has got herself published in so-and-so", these people go with, "Oh its a pleasure to meet you. You write stories? I understand, I myself have written more than you can even count, got more of my works published than you any-day, and can beat ou up in any contest, should it ever happen".

Beware of these specimen. They argue for the sake of arguing, do a lot of google to make their write-ups seem intelligent, and write stories, which can be easily renamed as "what's on wikipedia" or "Did you know? I do".

PS: I could have made this post shorter, but this post is a tribute to all the editors, who are scared to let the writers know that half of the book is a truckload of .. undigestable stuff. grrrr.

The devil, unfortunately, cares!

Once there was a man called MeekEnLow,

who hated his voice, low, rough and slow.

In a twist of fate, he fell in love with a girl,

and finally married this beauty named ShoutEnHurl.

The girl was loud, where he was not,

it was a disadvantage, especially when they fought.

He grew lazy, surly and paunchy with anger,

which with suppression only grew stronger.

Ultimately his body exploded and he died,

"How embarrassing!", He howled and cried,

He met the devil with his mind made,

no kith or kin will, like him, ever fade.

The devil impatiently heard him out,

then breathing fire, laughed out loud!

He had a brilliant idea in his mind,

he had wanted to try it for long on mankind.

"I have a solution my man" says he,

"to create noise as loud as it can be,

whenever your kith feel they might explode,

they'll use this on women, and have joy manifold."

The devil then pursuaded God to introduce cars,

to provide men a bit of comfort, luxury and class

But, unknown to Lord, gave men evil knowledge,

of making horns to aid in MeekEnSlow's revenge.

There you go, you have it now,

MeekEnLow was avenged and how!

His Kith and kin, no less dumb,

are driving & honking with minds numb.

The devil looks at the noisy mess below,

and gloating at God, takes a deep bow.

I hate the venting honking buttons. At times, it seems men horn because they have nothing better to do, or because they want their front-seat counterparts to stop talking, or stop liking them.

Mean Machines - Literally!

I wish the next-generation vehicles come with a pre-programmable honking horns. Key in the total number of kilometres to be travelled in the horn system, and the upper limit for horns is generated - 5-6 sounds like a decent number for 10 kilometres. After that, the system does not produce any noise - till the stipulated distance is done with.
Of course, this can be different for public and private transport systems. Autos should have the minimum limit - remove the pressing contraption I say, and replace them with this amazing electronic system.

Thinking of it makes me drool, because, armed with a mother-of-all-headaches, I had to travel by bus today. The driver was comparitively subdued - 22 honks in 10 kms. Yes, I counted.

I don't get it. Do buses/autos think they are silent machines? Like oiled shock absorbing Skodas and BMWs? One Swoosh of the wind and they are done!? These rickety contraptions make enough noise to shake up houses in their war-path and pedestrians or other vehicles long before they are in view- why the horns - especially these musical 10 honks in 5 seconds, or one long 15 seconds horn?

Our problem is not the traffic, for almost every city in the world has more cars than they can handle. Our problem is the freedom to horn and plunge one's way through cycle-gaps. Remove the capacity to horn, and reduce erratic travelling.

Cowardliness

An act of violence to prove a point is cowardliness. An act of ignorance to not want to see a point is a bigger one.
I am guilty of the latter. I did not want to know about our cruelty to animals because I knew it would hurt. I once saw a KFC video, which was enough to give me nightmares.
Today, I chanced upon the earthlings video, showing how we ill-treat animals for food, entertainment, hunting, clothes etc. Oh.my.god. To think that I thought that by being vegetarian, I am blameless! To think that I turned a deaf ear to how animals in circuses are ill-treated. To think I still use leather!!

Conclusion: I am not going to buy anything leather from now on. There ought to be something more I could do, join PFA perhaps. That would be a goal as soon as I overcome my fear of dogs. :)

PS: This post is dedicated to Anupama. If not for her, I would have been lost in my rosy pink-perfect earth forever.

Material Analysis

The IT professionals are highly mis-understood, not in terms of our high intelligence, but in terms of our worth. We are paid way more than we deserve, and we have also led to the inflated charges of everything.
Wondering what a skewed tangential look I am taking to life?
Let us make a time n material estimate, shall we? A typical IT professional needs nothing more than a desk, a system and software to work on. Say the project is supposed to be completed in 18 months. Now Assuming:

Cost of software used : Rs.50,000*
Electricity consumed per person : Rs. 200 per day per person**
The total amount spent in 18 months
would be : 50000 + 200X30X18***
= Rs. 158000
So average monthly salary of a software
professional should be : Rs. 8777.78

* Highest cost I could think of, but cost of software is immaterial, as it will be used for another project even after the 18 month duration is over
** A liberal estimate taking the compuer, shared AC and shared lights into consideration
*** Assuming we work 30 days in a month

You’ll agree with me now. We are overpaid right?
We aren't, because in the above calculations, the ‘time’ aspect is not accounted for. Neither is the amount of effort or mind-work, or the family functions we gave a miss to, to complete our work.

Now, let us all observe a moment of silence for the countless number of times we have cited the petrol prices vs mileage ratio to the auto-wallahs in retaliation to their exorbitant rates.

Rishita

I have waited,

for her first wail,
showing her annoyance,
and then take her first nap,
could a lullaby ever fail?

I have waited,

to see the protest in her eyes,
against her first sight,
and to snuggle against her pillow,
with a deep contented sigh.

I have waited,

for the toothless grin,
that her unfathomable dreams gave,
and that grin to turn naughty,
when she committed any little sin.

I have waited,

to watch her pink feet,
touch the floor,
and the walk to become a run,
whenever i came to meet.

I have waited,

for her small hand,
to curl around my finger,
and her hands to later hug me,
Ah! That feeling was so grand.

I have waited,

for her to play with toys,
cooing with them in baby talks.
and then for her to say my name,
in the musical lilt of her voice.

I have waited,

for 'it' to become 'she',
as she grew up so fast,
so that I can happily say
My Bommi's name is Rishi.

Writing this got me unexpectedly emotional, as it reminded me of every special moment with Rishita, my now-3-year old niece. Her first smile, her first hug, her first walk are etched in my mind. But the most precious memory is the way her face lit up whenever the doorbell rang. With a musical cry of 'Archana Chithiiiiii', she would come running and hug me.

Sigh!

UnSelfishness - A myth?

Everytime someone claims that they are very unselfish, I get a chuckle out of it! Grow up people!! The act of unselfishness is not possible. We are just not capable of that sort of a utopian thought.

Since unselfishness & Selflessness are used interchangeably, I will go with that. (Though, less thought of self (selfless) makes more sense that no thought of self (unselfish)). Lets look at some common usages:

"The soliders/commandos selfessly sacrificed their lives for their country."
Hmm. As heart-wretching and tear-jerking that is, is that true? The soliders were so committed to doing their job that they did not hesitate to risk thir lives. That makes them brave, not selfless.

"Gandhiji was the most unselfish person ever."
I admire Gandhiji, and look upto him. But unselfish, no. Gandhiji had some ideals he believed strongly in. He propogated and stood by them. That is not unselfish - that is being steadfast in his beliefs.

"I will even die for you."
Some of us say that, and most of us mean it too. Aren't we selfish when we say that? Doesn't that faith, that love for a person to want to promise such extremes actualy make us happy?

"He is so selfless. He has donated XX money to orphanages/old ages homes!"
Hmph! There are two ways of going about it. You either donate/help out because it makes you happy, or for being guilt-free and fulfilling your social duties. This is the least unselfish act ever.

As a corollary, I admire people who are realistic enough to call themselves selfish.
Every act that we do gets us something - peace, happiness or blessings. Just think twice before you egoistically call yourself selfless.

Overloaded?

Oh no no no! We are wise, we are assertive. We don't take extra work, or let anyone give it to us.

Ya right.

A set of 'to-dos' (touche`- corporate lingo!) bullets are usually jotted down mentally before one joins a company. An experienced IT professional typically adds in the the following :

• Family is priority. Try not to go home late.
• Don't take extra work. In the larger scheme of things, it really doesn't matter.

I am one of these typical experienced IT professionals. I had mentally ticked and cross-checked these bullet points before coming to the new office and taking up new assignments.

Then the inevitable happened - Seemingly impossible and frankly unnecessary deadlines. Now remember I had ticked the mental bullets? So I tried using tact with my manager, "I will not work over the weekend as I have other work to be done". (Ok, thats not tactical, but what would be in the face of a deadline?)

Tact definitely didn't work, and before I knew it, I was moving along with the demand and felt like I was towed away in the hurry-flurry of the corporate life!

Lesson learnt:
In any profession, the game of tick-tact-tow is always played. More often than not, we win it with all three crossed out, but come out grumbling.

Disclaimer:
I love my job. In fact, I seriously think this is the most fun job ever. But hey, what is mused will obviously be put here.