Enroute cemetery...

Hello again, world

2011-10-28T05:02:00.000-07:00

I’ve been light and happy for way too long. It is beginning to get a little unnerving. It is almost like I’ve deserted my life’s script and got into somebody else’s. From being a grey bearded entity who takes off on long vacations and unplanned solo trips, I’ve transformed into someone who’d wear an ironed purple shirt with khakhis, and drive with his wife for a distant relative’s shashtiapthapoorthi. Thankfully, the ironed purple shirt is still from Khadi. And a reasonable chunk of what I used to be, I still am.

So, between the last post and this, I fell for someone, pursued her, and got married in July '11. And i am discovering that married life isn't as scary as I imagined it to be. It’s nice to have someone to hang wet clothes with. Someone to hold your bag when you fiddle with your keys to open your house’s door. Someone to share vodka, darkness, life and secrets with (if this sounds familiar, thanks for being around this blog for so many years ).

And life outside marriage continues to exist. I still get my weekend games of ultimate. I still get to drink at GP with friends of 12 years. And get lost in Nagalapuram and swim in the accidentally discovered waterfall/stream with friends I used to get lost in Tada with.

But amidst all this being light and happy, I miss the intensity of emptiness at times. I miss this urge to stand at a precipice and shout like Tarzan. I miss this thing that drove me to write innumerable weird drunken posts past 3 am, most of which never saw the light of the day. I know I ought to say ‘good riddance’ and be thankful for the place in life I am at. For most parts I do just that. But there is this masochistic part per million that refuses to fall in line…

The winged visitor...

2010-11-18T12:25:00.000-08:00

Often times these days, i wake up to the sounds of conversations. Real ones. These aren't from the hidden recesses of memory, that deny you the peace of sleep, and the seeming calm of the todays and the yesterdays. These are benign conversations. "I just gave you a Dosa right? What are you still hanging around for?", my mom would say. I'd enter the kitchen, sleepy eyed, to find her in the middle of an earnest conversation with this particular crow. The responses vary. Sometimes we'd just get 'Caw Caws' in varying tones and decibel levels. At other times the crow would poke it's beak in, through the ample gaps in the kitchen's window grill, and take in the scene, before returning to it's pleas. A little louder. A little more demanding. I've come to recognize this crow. You need to pay attention to tell one crow from another, unless it has a broken beak or an absent foot.

In the belief system that i was born into, crows are considered 'pithrukkal', which in sanskrit, means fathers and forefathers. Despite my being an agnostic and my conscious attempts at being rational about things, i can't help making the connection. In an existence with so many unknowns, i find it increasingly difficult to be absolutely sure about anything. To be absolutely sure that crows are just crows. And so i indulge the crow. Whenever he flies in. Seeking food, attention, and an update on how things are at home. I feed him half an idli, a piece or roti or a full appalam. Anything that's around. Appalam being his favourite. Of late we've even started exchanging pleasantries. And he is beginning to find me familiar enough to pick pooris off my palm...

Loss of pay and gains of Leh...

2010-07-31T15:07:00.000-07:00

Where real life meets fantasy...Pangong lake...

A stick, a wall, and the blue-white skies...Thiksey Gompa...

A little under a month of arbitrary travel. A bunch of random strangers. Many chais were had and many cakes bitten into with some...Some others were like yellow/black sign boards on a road trip...The interactions could pass for a glance, but the brevity doesn't imply insignificance...

'Lost' Israeli ex-soldiers trying to 'find themselves' in the by lanes of Ladakh. Over clouds of smoke from happy cigarrettes constantly being rolled and smoked away. They'd describe to you the beauty and the mysticism of Varanasi one moment, and negotiate hard to bring down the room rent at Pangong lake from Rs 2200 to Rs 300 the next...

A Norwegian vegetarian Budhist, who, i suspect, loves women at least 42 times as much as Budha. Eloquent and insightful talks on meditation and happiness juxtaposed with extreme reluctance to step on puddles of harmless rain water. Goofy, fun, a joke, a Tibetan tale or an absolutely inappropriate remark up his sleeve all the time, most of our laughter on most evenings at Leh could be attributed to him.

A wannabe writer from Delhi on a year's break, the one who brought our Leh hang out crowd together. She could befriend wooden furniture, given time. I gave her a ride from Shankar to Leh market and ended up moving to the guest house she was staying in. And ended up being surrounded by people every evening, talking more and reading less, something that doesn't usually happen in my solo trips.

A quiet mallu sound engineer from Delhi whose only claim to malludom would be his last name. Affable, sharp, and a clear non-chalance about travel, with as much interest in Nubra Valley as in the corner store selling Apricot jam made by Ladakhi women.

A chennaiite from Bangalore who quit tech 4 months ago and plans to set up a natural farm possibly at Mayiladuthurai. A vegan by choice cos he thinks it is unfair for humans to milk cows, but will drink a cup of namkeen butter chai if a family offers it with love, just to be nice. A champion of home-schooling, we managed to have opposing views on quite a few things over a single breakfast. Opposing in a healthy tolerant manner...

The lady who gave me a bowl of water and the old man who gave me a piece of cloth to wet and dab my eyes with. Their neighbor who made me lie down and put eye drops for me. On the day of blindness of the left eye at Rumtse. Temporary blindness resulting from some random insect toxin cos of the helmetless, goggleless motorcycle ride from Manali to Leh. There was something very comforting about their instinctive helpfulness that kept me from freaking out, despite the inability to distinguish between a yak and a plastic chair 4 feet away for a full 17 hours, and i was quite touched by their concern for a random stranger-traveler.

There were a host of other random folks. Folks i left with a 'seeya' and a 'have a good life' instead of a mail id and a 'let's stay in touch'. Like the 'dude' from Delhi who reacted like i lived in a hole some 4000 feet below the ground when i told him i was from Chennai. I did tell him we had roads, electricity and water supply back home. But then what's a journey without minor annoyances.

So there were people...And there were places too...

First ever glimpse of the Taj. Heavenly lassi off a mutka at Gokul in Mathura, a place that seemed totally caught in a time warp. Two days in Delhi without being conned (yay!). Amazement at the orderliness (and expensiveness) of Chandigarh. A proper dip in the super hot waters of Vasisht in Manali finally (after 2 failed attempts in 2002 and 2003). Motorcycle ride from Manali to Leh, the most stunning of rides. A ride that made me an Enfield convert. Prayer flags, ginger teas, gompas, random new friends, and plain lazing in Ladakh. Chai by the Indus followed by rafting down it, jumping in and floating around a bit, for my 32nd. Pangong lake with 3 israelis who gave me answers for why they smoke all the weed they smoke. Bumping into a blog friend at Khardungla followed by a bumpy roll down from Khardungla to Leh on a bicycle. Drive by Kargil and a 4 hour break at Drass cos the border police wouldn't let us pass. 4 tourists, 400 policemen and a whole lot of floating grass at Dal lake. History lessons at Balidan stambh in Jammu and then the long journey back home...

A year's worth of moments in a little under a month. And now i am actually ready to write some code and earn some bread...

Survival...

2010-06-07T22:28:00.000-07:00

Ilamaran. Ila for those who had to call him frequently. He was the tallest of the four. He was wearing bright yellow trousers that came upto his knees, and a shiny black t-shirt, the kind atheletes wear. He seemed fresh off a bath, with smudges of talcum powder below his well-oiled side burns. Ila was clearly the leader of the pack. The other three followed him as he walked purposefully to the blue box at the corner of GP road. The blue box housed a lungi-clad man and his shop. A shop that sold, among other things, warm sweet tea in flimsy melting plastic cups. And no-frills omelettes that were free of contaminations from onions and tomatoes and at times even salt. Ila asked for three sachets of cocunut oil. The shop keeper nodded knowingly and picked a brand from the few options available. It was the least expensive, at a rupee a sachet. Ila kept one, and handed out two to two of his companions, leaving out the youngest, his kid brother Nedumaran. Nedu was disappointed but didn't complain. He knew he was not ready for that role yet, and was happy doing his bit in what to him was an exciting adventure day after day. The other three ripped open their sachets and smeared the oil from the forearms down to the tip of their fingers. They practiced grabbing each other by the arm, and freeing themselves from the grasp. They didn't want to lose too much oil, so they stopped after a couple of tries. Ila then bought a couple of blades, broke them into two halves each, the way barbers do before a shave, and distributed them around. They then waited at the GP Road - Anna salai intersection for the next crowded bus to stop at the signal. They were ready for the hunt. Nedu would get in from the front. The others from behind, but not together. It was peak hour and this wasn't difficult to achieve. When one of them spots a possible victim, he would give a missed call to Nedu. Nedu would then initiate a distraction to make the job easier. Once the job was done, they would get off at different stops. The one with the catch would of course be the first one to be off the bus.

The first bus wasn't crowded enough, they let it pass. They got on into the next one headed to central station. At Shanthi theatre, the first stop past the signal, Arumai got on. His arms were glistening with oil too. He spotted an anxious kid with a clear outline of a mobile phone in his shirt pocket. He momentarily felt sorry for the kid, but what had to be done had to be done. He reached out for his phone to give a missed call to his accomplice at the back...

Four unrelated paragraphs...

2010-03-21T22:24:00.000-07:00

I can hear the drone of my refrigirator. Distinctly. At 3 am you usually can. Unless you're in Mandaveli, right behind a petrol pump that stays awake for the lorry drivers who never sleep. But I've heard they sleep some times while driving. Placing a brick on the accelerator to avoid the labor of stepping on it while dozing off. Where i live right now, i can choose to hear it's cries any time of the day. I think it cries a little more loudly than it's peers out of emptiness. One unfilled and unfulfilled fridge mine is, holding just beer and the occasional stale food that never get's consumed. I need to throw out a 3 week old red fluid i bought at a Thai place. I forgot it's name. It tasted terrible. I was in an adventurous mood. I am usually the kind who goes to the same place and orders the same things. I should stick to my tenets.

**************

When you see a skeleton, do you wonder about the person the skeleton used to be? I didn't hear much of what Mangala miss told us at the Bio lab that afternoon a million years ago. My head was filled with thoughts of the person's life and how he died and how he ended up at the Bio lab of our high school. I did hear the part where she said the person was a smoker. Can you get that from a skeleton? Or may be she made it up to sneak in a moral science lecture on why smoking is bad, without actually giving that lecture. You show a skeleton to a 7th grader, and tell him the skeleton used to smoke, that would keep him off cigarretes for a good many years. I wasn't much of a student for most parts. I don't remember when exactly the turnaround happened. Not the rags to riches turnaround, but more of a rags to middle class turnaround. Maybe after i started taking TT lessons. Or after i failed in Chemistry in 9th grade and Baby miss formed 2 groups of 'weak' students and put them under the tutelage of a couple of the elite. I remember taking it as a personal insult, and studying for the next Chemistry exam furiously. I didn't top it, but i got much more than what a pass needed. And i have no freaking clue why i have think about it now.

**************

What makes people pee on their past, or convince themselves that they don't belong there and those who still belong there come from another planet? If you had run through college drinking tea from that 2 rupees per cup tea shop, served specially with dipped fingers, and can't bring yourself to go back there and do the same, a part of you has died. And that's not such a good thing.

**************

I am heading home in a month. Again. Taking a two month vacation. Part of the time shall be spent finding out if yoga or ayurveda can do the magic to my neck and shoulders that Cortisone shots and chiropractors couldn't. Another part of it would be spent on a Delhi->Manali->Ladakh->Kashmir->Delhi bike trip. Assuming my neck and shoulder get good enough for that. Else i might do the same route on whatever moving thing i can get myself on to. At the end of it i guess i'll resume writing code.

...

2010-01-17T21:56:00.000-08:00

Relationships are never symmetric. Even the seemingly rosy ones. If A can give up her career for B, B can possibly give up a bottle of unrefrigerated Coca Cola. But that is when you get there. In the run up to getting that equation going, or not going, you'd be, in no particular order, a buffoon, a hero, a wreck, a bore, a sweetheart, a schmuck, among so many other things you can't put a word to. You could do 323 times 47 without needing a calculator, but around the object of your affection your mind would be as functional as a plate full of mashed potatoes. You may not be particularly uninteresting. Even rarely funny in some circles. But suddenly you’d inspire as much interest as an Assamese movie would, at 1:30 pm on DD on a sleepy Sunday afternoon. The trick is in not trying. It is quite ironical actually.

But we can’t let an unnamed relationship be, can we? We want to pick it up and seal it in a bottle. We want to seal it in a bottle, stick a label on it, and give it a name. We can't just be happy with someone here and now. We want a promise of all the tomorrows. Of course this is all rhetorical. Do anthropologists study how and when humans started defining form and structure and rules to something that seems fairly amoebic?

Ok, I think I should stick to drinking vodka and writing gibberish...

In general life updates, i did a month and a half long trip to India at the end of which Buddha showed me the finger and asked me to think for myself. He probably got pissed because i went and met Bahubali at Shrawanabelahola and didn't go to Saranath. It was an awesome trip with a wee bit of travel and some moments that i'd cherish for a long time to come...

Anyways happy 2010 you folks...For me 2009 was fairly lousy, so this year better be good!...

When i am in a whole day of street cricket followed by lemon juice kind of mood...

2009-10-14T01:46:00.000-07:00

I am feeling good about life. For the moment. Two hours of stand up comedy on youtube can do wonders to your outlook of life. A 32 year old comic tells you about the need to design cars specifically for the 'making out' segment, a segment that is comfortable making out, but can't handle the seriousness of a room or a relationship or sex. And i look forward to the tomorrows with a renewed and unreasonable lightness. No correlation whatsoever. The mind is so fucking fickle. It helps that the 32 year old happens to be Janeane Garofalo from 14 years ago. But the thing is, if you feel good about life, you don't sit around and cross examine it. You just revel in it, and wait for shit to happen. After coffee the next day. Also fucking and fickle seemed to rhyme in a weird way. Which is why i wanted to put them next to each other. Honestly. I am 31 years old and no longer find it fashionable to throw the f word around. I used to find it very fashionable and novel when i had just joined college in 1995. I saw peers using it to sound exasperated in a very cool way. I had tried to imitate, but my attempts felt artificial and affected. So i gave up and stuck to the native tongue. I see a lot of my kid cousins throw the word 'Whatever' around a lot. Is that a fashionable word among college kids of today?

My mom is in town. And i am getting frequent doses of Rice and Sambhar. I am not a foodie. I could live on rice and sambhar all my life, without ever knowing if Penne is tubular or if Fusilli looks like dead butterflies made of maida. Sambhar is a gooey thing made from dal and water and chilli powder and turmeric and tamarind and vegetables. And add salt to taste. Dal is a pulse. I've seen a japanese man cry and sweat and fret over some benign Sambhar a few years ago. I've seen the same Japanese man suck in an Octopus tentacle with a straight face. His name was Hanawa. We called him Hanawa-san. He told me that 'baakha' was fuck in japanese. He taught me wrong. I still don't know the right word. In Jap movies, people keep saying 'waatha shiva' or something like that. I don't know what it means. But we told Hanawa-san what 'waatha' means in Tamil. And he giggled over it. Serious japanese men don't giggle often. He wasn't a serious japanese man. He took us to Uno park where we saw families sitting under sakura blooms and drinking sake. I remember being extremely happy seeing all those blooms and all those half drunk and not so drunk families. Sakura is cherry blossom in Japan, and the bloom lasts for all of 15 days. But, for those 15 days, they are very pretty. Humans should've also been designed to be like sakura.

I am most probably visiting home in November. For a month or so. I think i'll decide on the immediate direction for the next few years then. Buddha has promised to come down and leave a sign at that point. He refuses to come down right now. Says he is not in the mood. I think he has visa issues. I think 2010 is going to be a very good year for me. If i keep repeating this some 2.5 million times, it will actually happen. I read this in an excerpt of a self help book titled Sweet corn soup for the fool or something.

Sometimes, strangers are better than fiction...

2009-10-04T02:28:00.000-07:00

There'll be no angst in this post. No alcohol either. I came here to record an unexpectedly pleasant saturday evening. A time i usually spend with fictional characters. Or a high level programming language. This time, it was the company of a stranger. A stranger i've known, for 3 days in all. Who i'll meet again, in 3 years maybe, or a little later. A polite hello. A curt handshake. A cup of coffee each. One with sugar, one without. And then a drive, supposedly to Palo Alto. A signal jump, a wrong turn, and a pretty road that took us to a destination we weren't headed for. An unmarked space with two parked cars. A trail. A real heavy breeze, that made us need the sight of speech, as much as the sound of it, to make sense of the spoken word. A bird whose name we did not know, whose flight we still hung on and followed. The just risen moon, inside which, she saw a rabbit, i saw a squid, and she spoke of a friend, who always saw a mother and a child. I've never looked for forms inside the moon. I call them craters and leave them at it. Bata chappals, wind chill, the setting sun and the growing hunger, made us head back to the car. Eventually, Palo Alto was reached. Dishes whose names i can't remember, to save my life, were consumed. And good byes and good lucks exchanged. Strangely, the evening seemed whole in it's own right. Random. No context. No obligatory future or direction. Just it. Like watching, possibly, the only show of a feel good movie, seeing the credits roll, walking out, smiling and satisfied.

I think back of Kodachaadri. Another geography. Another whole set of events. But a very similar after taste. I'll keep it for another time.

The boiled egg that was never eaten...

2009-08-27T03:40:00.000-07:00

It is 3 am. And i've been drinking vodka and watching 'Lost in translation'. I drank it out of a really tall glass meant for beer. I could've used an ever-silver tumbler. Does alcohol react with ever-silver? But if it is ever-silver it has to be ever silver no? I want to wear a silly yellow t-shirt. Inside out. And dance with Scarlette Johansson. I am thinking of Japan. The crowded Shinjuku station. The pretty girls in white skirts who hand out pamplets that say Massage but mean many other things. The Big Budha sitting at peace at Kamakkura. The people who are always running. The boss who is present when you reach office. And when you leave office. The slot machine attached to the hotel room's TV where you insert 100 yens to get 10 minutes of porn. The laptops in the platforms of Akihabara, and the cigarrette lighters shaped like fire extinguishers. The Buddhist temples, where you wash your feet before going in, and write your wishes in white pieces of paper and tie them up for Budha to read them and bestow upon you what you want. You could buy some corn, have them in your palm, and stretch your hand out for pigeons to peck on them. But remember to wear gloves. Pigeon beaks would be nicer to you then. I didn't. I saw glimpses of the country today, and want to go. I took a picture of half an egg, boiled a week ago and neglected since. The yellow is not yellow any more and the white is a very sad cream. I placed it in a shiny black bowl and placed the bowl on the wooden floor of my kitchen. So that the picture could have the yellow that is not yellow any more, the sad cream, the shiny black, and the ply wood brown. The picture came out very ordinary. I then threw the egg in my trash can. And emptied the contents of my trash can onto a bigger trash can outside my flat. Tomorrow the bigger trash can would be emptied into an even bigger trash can in a lorry that comes by. I don't know what happens after that. Have you seen 'The lady killers'? I will go sleep now. I need to get up and find out why, of 10 frames, 5 are going on port 1 and 5 on port 2, whereas 6 are supposed to go on port 1 and 4 on port 2. It is very important. No seriously.

Washerman's dog...

2009-08-08T20:06:00.000-07:00

I meet friends. Over brunches, dinners, beers and butter scotches. B and S being the most available ones. For now. Until the former goes back to his research in Alabama, and the latter's wife comes back to him from India. We talk of important stuff. Like professors, arrears, and whether the dal in our mess food, that we ate 10 years ago, had enough salt. I meet my ex, who tries to convince me that i should shop for a current. Whenever the episode she is watching, of 'Raakhi saawant ki swayamvar', on youtube, gets boring. I try and offer comparable comic relief in my responses. I fail. Of course i fail. How can i possibly compete with 'Usne kahaa TV nahin kharidega, washing machine kharidega, thaaki mai kapde na dhouun. Mere mann ko sukoon mila'. There are apparently many such gems. I can't digest reality TV. Unless it comes with free home-cooked dinner, which is a premium these days..

I play out this scene in my head. Once in a while. My boss calls me to his office. And tells me he has decided to let me go. I am not saddened. A little surprised, yes. Though i am doing just about enough to keep my job. A little less, maybe. But I come out feeling kind of liberated. In the next frame, i am standing on a platform in Central station in chennai. My loyal orange-black rucksack on my shoulders. And no agenda in my head. Waiting for the train that would take me to Delhi. From where i'd be taking a bus to Manali or Nainital. Depending on which one i manage to find a seat on first. I'd be sitting by the window. Taking in everything that comes in through it, greedily. The breeze. The clatter. And the snatches of homes that disappear as rapidly as they appear. I am reminded of this bus ride from Manali to Delhi. A few years ago. P shakes me off my sleep and makes me look out of the window. Amidst absolute darkness, there are these rectangular boxes of light. Evenly lit homes on a hill's slope. It was a surreal sight. That's my most vivid memory of that entire trip. I snap back to the 'here and now'. I wouldn't walk away from what i have, but would be relieved to be pushed out. It doesn't make sense. Or does it?

Some days i wonder if I am holding on to shreds of life i don't care for, and letting go of things i do. But some days i get up with, besides bad breath and a back ache, something that could pass for clarity. And head to work with a sense of what could pass for purpose. Those days aren't all that rare, and compensate for the listlessness of the rest. A good technical discussion here, a good customer bug fix there, and i have bouts of enthusiasm for work. The work that has given me the luxury to fret over imagined angst. And so i hang on...

Bhaawra mann dekhne chalaa ek sapna...

2009-07-25T23:44:00.000-07:00

I am not sure why i gave this title to this post. Except that this is my 'current' all time favourite song. And ever since i saw this video of the Sahyadris with this song playing in the background, i've been itching to be in the Western ghats in the monsoon.

I turned 31 this week. 31 sounds infinitely older than 30. G and i share birthdays. So, after a non-celebrating dinner with her, i spent my birthday midnight clapping hands and singing the customary song while she cut her b'day cake at the 'surprise' party her friends had put together for her. For the 31st, i would've thrown a birthday party, if i had a wife, and a mistress, and i wanted to appear happily married to all and sundry. Since i had no such motivations, i let it pass.

But such days do serve as points that make you sit back, and take stock of where you are and where you want to be. I had a bunch of contradictory wants at 30. I have a bunch of contradictory wants now. Age doesn't seem to give me wisdom, the way it is supposed to. From young and stupid, i am simply growing into old and clueless. I did move countries. One of the wants at 30. But I've been having more of the 'What the fuck am i doing here?' moments. Not that i didn't have those back home. But i'd find instant comfort in the urine bathed Karl Shmidt memorial, and the warm waters of the Besant Nagar beach, a 10 minute ride away. It doesn't help that my life's all-important happiness-giver, sport, has been missing in action. The injury from that simple fall has a fancy name now, Rotator-cuff tendonitis, and is showing signs of hanging around for a while. So, instead of waiting for it to heal, i decided i'll turn leftie. I am starting out by learning to shoot at least 2 pointers with my left hand, so that i can play Basketball with a bunch of college buddies. Also planning to resume playing Ultimate Frisbee tomorrow, throwing only forehands and catching with my left hand. It should be fun, and would be nearly like learning a new sport, the left hand aspect that is.

On the surface, i've been having an alright time. Hanging out with college junior Balaji and college roomie Swami at Castro every once in a while. Also, did this trip to Yellowstone with Swami, Sudhir and Heman, friends from undergrad days. It's hard to beleive that it's been a decade since college. It was an awesome trip, and all the more fun, thanks to Sudhir/Heman's kid, who was a total entertainer. Yellowstone was very pretty and all, but we probably would've had as much fun sitting under a random tree and catching up.

But i've kind of decided this is not the place i want to live and grow old in. There is something missing with life here, and i can't quite place my finger on that. When push comes to shove, i'll pack my bags again. And it'll come to shove latest by the early part of next year. Until then i shall find ways and means to amuse myself. I intend to take a year's break before 35. I am increasingly inclined to do that earlier rather than later, so that'll probably be my next step. I have a vague business idea. It is something i can work on on my own while i am on the move. I am not sure if it'll give me any returns. And i have this huge mind block against being an entrepreneur. But i want to try it out, any which ways. We have one life after all.

K wished me peace, and all the travel i want, for the year ahead. I think, travel, at least, can be arranged. Hoping to spend my 32nd, sitting by a glacial river, and sipping chaai, adhrak maar ke...

ps: Dear annoyed anonymous commenter. After alcohol and coffee, i've now moved on to ginger tea. Pliss to go easy on me this time around...

Keep-alive Post

2009-06-11T02:26:00.000-07:00

In networking, when A and B are talking a protocol, typically, besides exchanging a bunch of information mandated by the protocol, they exchange frequent meaningless small sized hellos. This is a keep-alive mechanism. When A doesn't hear from B for a threshold time, it decides to forget all about B, and cleans up anything that it picked up from B. If and when B comes back up, it has to start from scratch and re-establish everything with A, which is expensive. This is a keep-alive post.

When i was leaving chennai, I imagined myself two months hence, standing in the balcony of a studio apartment, drinking coffee, and missing the flurry of activities that the view from my Mandaveli balcony had offered me, and the goodness of the coffee i would have been drinking back home. I was wrong on two counts. In my head, the view from my studio's balcony was a lot prettier. In reality i get a panaromic view of a grim black floored parking lot. And you do get decent coffee powder to make good filter coffee with ('Barefoot coffee', thank you).

A shoulder injury from a nasty fall i had, playing ultimate back in Jan, is keeping me out of any kind of action, which is a big time bummer. Met a chinese physio, who referred me to a chinese doctor who would refer me back to the chinese physio, so that the non-chinese insurers would pay for my treatment. Why are these things so complicated?! And the doctor's name is Ooyang. I never thought i'd have to see a doctor who called himself Ooyang. For me Ooyang would be a ping-pong player or a martial arts expert. A Dr. Ram Prasad or Dr. Sundar is more like it. I hope it all ends happily ever after with me throwing a disc or playing in the Milpitas table tennis circuit or both. For lack of anything else to do, and the relative scarcity of cubicle conferences about inane things, i actually managed to do more work in the past 2 months, than the preceding 4-5 months in Chennai. My boss in chennai is probably reading this, but i guess he knows this without my having to tell him!

Life has been as boring as this post, if not more. But i did attempt to 'do' a few things. Like watching a baseball game live in Oakland stadium (and getting terribly bored). And seeing a bunch of folks dressed in weird outfits, or none at all, and running or walking an 8 mile stretch, in what is called 'Bay to breakers'. There was so much weirdness that by the end of it normal looked very interesting. And i was wondering what drove people to do all this. Then i paid sizeable money to watch herbivores from africa like goats and cows (there was the occasional sleeping tiger or docile rhino thrown in), with a white lady working extra hard to make it all seem interesting. Since the animals weren't interesting enough, she spoke about the Jeep we were riding in, and about it's association with WWII. I could only think of the Bisons and Bears and Banded Kraits and the Elephants spotted in the wild during treks in Perambikulam and Himalayas.

In an attempt to make life better, i bought a shiny new old car in 2 hours' time(inclusive of search, 'analysis' and the actual purchase, i am pretty quick and stupid with such things actually). Thanks G for the ride and all the knowledgable questions and the negotiation.

I guess coming here as a curious excited impressionable 21 year old is a lot different from coming here as a more grounded 30 year old. When you see everything in order, working like clock work, you don't go "Wow! It's all so organized. When will India be like this?". Instead you go "Can these guys survive even a minor entropy?", and actually take pride in the presence of some coherence in all that clamour back home. And when you see the ever friendly smiles and the waving hands, you wonder if the smiles will become grimaces and the waving hands would become clenched fists when excesses turn into scarcity. I give it to them for building this kind of order and discipline, but i can't help wondering what would happen if that order is shaken up by an external event. An average driver is not equipped to handle an unexpected car that strays from it's lane. Extrapolating it to other aspects of life is scary.

I am hoping to make this a worthwhile stay, and try and live out some interesting experiences for the time i am here. Let's see how it goes...

Move, Actually

2009-04-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

The first sip of the sour orange juice that the stewardess gave him, reminded him of the last visit to the land he was headed to. He had some compulsive taste-place associations. Jalebis reminded him of Hyderabad. Cup-O-Noodles reminded him of Japan, and sometimes, of the happy treks in the western ghats in Karnataka.And sour orange juice always transported him to the US. He couldn't help smiling at the title of the book he was reading. Rohinton Mistry's 'Such a long journey'.

He saw a middle aged couple from his land at the Heathrow airport, in transit. The man was wearing a Black T-shirt that said 'I heart New York' in White. And his wife was wearing a Grey T-shirt that said 'I heart New York' in Black. Very amusing it was, he thought, to see a couple wearing matching Tees at forty. At some point, he was looking forward to this move to the US. But when you look forward to something long enough, you cease to look forward to it. He had started making alternate plans that started to seem more appealing. Like moving to Bangalore. Bouldering and ultimate frisbee with K and crowd. Random treks, beer, and conversations with K. Hanging around friends/travel companions who'll have interesting tales to tell (of building a porn site, or the education system in Timbuktu, or how a kitchen cabinet is built with bare hands). And drinking with this friend who could break into a Lady Macbeth monologue in the middle of a drink, and make everyone in the bar look in their direction. But then a door to the US suddenly opened up. So he thought of surfing and community colleges and a shift to product engineering and hanging around sis and bil, and the money. Ofcourse the money he could make and the resultant time he could afford to be off work once back home, and do that year's travel around India atleast before 35. And so he boarded a plane to San Francisco. Still wondering if he should've tried moving to Bangalore instead. But he tells himself, that if things don't fall in place, he can always catch the next flight back home, and is already thinking of all the things he should be doing once he heads back home, Sikkim, to start with. He is probably just designed to live in transit.

So sharks, if any, in Santa cruz and Half moon bay, please be nice to him. And the happy harmless fishes of Thiruvanmayur, he wouldn't be gone for too long, so you'll get back the human feet to nibble at.

Pulicat a.k.a Pazhaverkadu

2009-02-02T12:17:00.000-08:00

I went on a trip to Hampi for 2007's new year. I spent the new years' eve on a train from Hospet to Bangalore, talking to a middle aged Bengali woman, a young English cartoonist and a businessman from Hospet who found it weird that the three of us had come to Hampi on our own for no specific reason. It was a fun trip and i thought i should do something like that every year for new years', unless i had something better to do. I promptly did nothing in 2008. Ermm i think i watched putthaandu sirappu nigazhchigal ('new year special programmes' for the tamil challenged) on sun tv and saw people burst crackers on TV. I switched to DD Podhigai and saw a woman sadly doing the lots for a new year special game show. She seemed truly bored with the proceedings. Very exciting it was.

This year i decided to go to Pulicat lake. That's the second largest salt water lake in India (the largest being Chilka lake in Orissa), and is a Bird sanctuary. So i started driving down to Pulicat on 31st evening. Got lost. Asked a couple of parotta shop guys on NH5 where Pulicat was. They had no clue. Then i asked for Pazhaverkadu, and they gave me precise directions. Reached Pulicat at 10 pm. The only lodge there would be ready for occupation by March 2009! A tea shop guy asked me to sleep in my car. He said that that would ensure safety for the car and myself. That didn't sound too encouraging, so i backtracked to Ponneri (a village 17 km from Pulicat). Ponneri had a lodge but a murder had happened there a couple of days before and they wouldn't let me stay ('Police order sir'). Plus they kept asking me who was in the car (even after i had told them there was no one else). I wouldn't blame them. Guys stay with parents. Girls stay with parents. So guys and girls usually go all the way to Pulicat or Mahabalipuram to just make out, and some hotel owners are very uncomfortable with the idea. Anyways one saviour told me about this motel on NH5 near the check post. 'Chaitanya' it was called, and it was a welcome sight. They had rooms available, and they even had a bar. After checking in i headed to the bar. When i entered four drunk lawyers were arguing loudly about something. I had a beer sent to my room. I didn't want to welcome the new year from a 10ft x 7ft room. So i walked out to NH5 to welcome the year from a highway tea kadai there, a tea and the only cigarrette for the year in hand. Random guys were getting off cars and launching rockets from the median of NH5 at midnight to usher in the year. The highway suddenly wore a festive look and it was nice to be in the middle of all that as an onlooker. I messaged K wishing her more of Himalayas and other mountains and less of confusions for the year, and headed back to my room.

The drive to Pulicat early next day was beautiful. It was amazing to drive through vast expanses of fields dotted with birds early in the morning. I saw more birds en route to pulicat than in pulicat.

I hired a boat from the first guy who approached me. Boatman Khalsa has 3 daughters, and wants to make enough money to marry them off. For this part of the story i parted with 50 rupees more than the agreed amount. But he was a generally happy guy, and was thankful to the tourists because that's increased his income multifold. And he was thankful to mobile phones which, he says, is a big plus in his business. He gave a mouthful to the government and some environment protection agencies though, for stopping a bridge construction across the lake that would have helped kids attend school during the rains. And helped vehicular traffic scare birds off from that part of the sanctuary permanently probably. Now, the kids wade through knee deep water to get to school so that the birds can stay.

I wanted to see a lot of Flamingos in all their pinkness. I spotted 5 million fishermen and 1 Flamingo. I did see quite a few grey and white and black birds whose names i didn't know. But they weren't pink. There was this one trip i did with a bunch of random school kids, to Perambikulam wildlife sanctuary. We were at a place full of birds, where Salim Ali had apparently camped, and there was this sciene teacher who went 'Sir, inga evlo kuruvinga paarungalaen' ('Sir, look, there are so many sparrows here!'), unmindful of what birds they really were. I felt as ignorant as that science teacher.

Once we were done with standing in mostly birdless island patches, and were back in proper land, Khalsa asked me not to leave without eating Pulicat's Prawn biryani. He said, with sufficient notice, he could even prepare a grand sea-food meal if i came there with friends sometime. He was truly distressed when i told him i was a veggie. 'Verum soru kaay ela mattum saaptu eppdi sir irukkeenga? Naakku sethudaathu?' was his genuine concern :). ('How can you survive on just rice and vegetables and leaves? Won't your tongue die?'...ok, all this translation is very tiring)...

Then there was this Dutch cemetery, rather obscure in it's presence. The Dutch controlled Pulicat between the 1600s and 1800s. The cemetery, which is maintained by ASI, was locked, so i had to jump over it's gate to get in. I feel a sense of peace when i see cemeteries. Maybe it is the finality of the place. There was an old man in white, sleeping in the shade of the grandest tomb there. Most tombstones had metallic tops that shut the dead tight. I was reminded of Rachel from 'The unbearable lightness of being', who hates the idea of being pressed to the earth and being shut. Instead she wants to be burnt and wants her ashes thrown to the wind...

I'll have to go back to Pulicat sometime to get my eyes' fill of Flamingos. But despite the birdlessness, i thought the trip had enough moments to make it totally worthwhile...

God Goats Humans Kids

2009-01-08T06:07:00.000-08:00

B takes his son to St.Thomas mount. That's a small hillock in chennai where St. Thomas was allegedly killed. There is a church built by the portuguese at the summit. And there is this tall, fiarly imposing statue of a Golden colored Jesus. So B's son sees people praying to the statue and asks B if he could too. B agrees. So the kid apparently brings his palms together, in standard Hindu prayer style, and tries to reach out to Jesus with a non-silent 'Gajaananam Bootha ganaathi saevitham'* shloka**! :). Funny and profound, no?

I don't know if Jesus or Ganesha had gotten confused, but adult humans are certainly a confused lot. In the context of the above incident, the basis of a lot of recent ill happenings seem ridiculous.In 'The unbearable lightness of being', Milan Kundera says that how someone treats those weaker to him/her determine's his/her niceness. He goes on to say that the human race is pretty much screwed up going by the way it treats animals. He talks about a more powerful species (hypothetical) coming in and treating us the way we treat, say, hens and goats and rats and guinea pigs, or something to that effect. 'Half a kilo boy meat, preferably thigh piece', someone from that species could say. Or use 20 year old women as 'guinea pigs' for untried drugs. Their biology classes could include dissection of 3 year olds to understand the human digestive system. Morbid, no? But we have Darwin, Survival of the fittest, Food cycle, Food web et al to explain the whole thing. OK, i could use some LSD now.

Anyways, all trash aside, the image of a kid saying 'Gajananam' to Jesus atop St.Thomas mount seems idyllic, and brings a smile. On that note, happy 2009 people.

*Shloka - A sanskrit hymn...
*Gajaananam - A shloka on Lord Ganesha...

Diwali...

2008-10-27T12:58:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, i asked my mom, why she wasn't buying herself something for Diwali. She said it felt weird going Saree shopping on her own. She had a point. So we went to Kumaran Silks and picked up a couple of Sarees for her. We went to the Khadi next door and i picked up something for myself. The last time i had acknowledged Diwali (or any festive occasion for that matter) and did anything active centred around it was the last one we had in Trichy, in 1997.

When we reached home, mom busied herself making 'Diwali marundhu'. 'Marundhu' in Tamil means medicine, and 'Diwali marundhu' is usually had to aid in the digestion of the 15 kilos of random sweets an average family consumes on Diwali day (atleast in Tamilnadu). She makes very good 'marundhu', and Dad used to be a big fan of it (apparently mom learnt the recipe for it from Dad's mom). I knew she hadn't made it in a while. So i asked her when was the last time she made it. She said she hadn't made it after our last Diwali in Trichy. I can't think of an explicit reason, but i know that if the 'dress buying' act had not happened, the 'marundhu making' act wouldn't have happened either. I was glad we went through the exercise.

I had stopped doing a lot of things because they stopped appealing to me. But, you knock off a loud 'Happy New year' wish, a thoughtful 'Happy Birthday' phone call, new dresses, family dinners and 100-waalas for a Diwali, Baby-Krishna feet and 'Vella seedai' for Krishna Jayanthi, and hordes of other such stuff, there is very little magic left and life gets too drab. If your parents hadn't done anything about such occasions, you'd lose half your happy childhood memories. I am in the process of convincing myself that it is a great idea to wear new clothes and take a bite of home made Coconut burfi to celebrate Lord Krishna's killing of Naragasura...It'll take some effort but i guess i'll get there.

Anyways, if you're the celebrating kinds, wish you and your family a very Happy Diwali...Else, well, try and jump back into the bandwagon sometime...Sometimes it is nice to unlearn and do silly things, like bursting crackers with a 10 year old...

Finding love in 15 days...

2008-10-05T08:32:00.000-07:00

Quick beautiful relationships happen only in the movies. The Holiday was depressing, in a really nice way.

Two women who are in a sad place in their respective lives swap places for a couple of weeks, and end up finding lurrve. I started watching the movie because it had Jude Law and Kate Winslet. If i were gay, Jude Law is someone i'd lust after. And you cannot not like Kate Winslet if you'd seen 'Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind'.

I liked the idea. Swapping homes with a random stranger from a random geography in an attempt to deal with misery. Loved the openness with which Cameron Diaz and Jude Law go about their relationship. Bizzarely enough, they start out by having sex. Diaz floats the idea with these lines to a drunk Jude - "You know Graham, I just broke up with someone and considering you just showed up and you're insanely good-looking and probably won't remember me anyway... I'm thinking we should have sex... If you want"...A friend once told me a theory she read somewhere. If two people start sleeping with each other, after a point an emotional connect is inevitable, though there might've been none to start with. Much like how things usually work the other way round, minus the anxiety and the awkward moments. Animals are probably much smarter than we think. When a Barking deer fancies another Barking deer, i guess it probably doesn't start with a 'Hey i know a beautiful slope there that has really good grass, do you want to come along and graze there?'. Humans have complicated things beyond repair.

Loved the sensitivity with which they dealt with the Kate Winslet - Jack Black segment. But my favourite was the 'Kate - 90 yr old screen writer' equation. Very nicely done. But i wish they didn't make Jude's daughters 5 spoonfulls of sugar sweet.

The movie ends on a happy note with everybody dancing to a happy song on New years' eve. All that is nice, but I can't seem to take happiness at face value. Don't we all manage to find unhappiness in our own unique way?. Now, that sounds terrible. I need to get out and shop for positive vibes. Mountains shall be climbed and seas shall be swum in. Literally, i mean, those were'nt corny metaphors. When you are a few hundred metres inside the sea, floating on your back, being tossed around by the waves, with a view of the evening sky and the Thiruvanmiyur skyline (which is a bunch of old yellow flats), the world does seem perfect. Until a plastic cover that has lost it's way brushes against you, and you think it is a great white shark, lose your balance, and take in a mouthful of sea water...

Also, i learnt a new word from the movie. Gumption - Fortitude and determination; Sound practical judgement. I like the sound the word makes. Gumption...

This and that...

2008-09-06T23:53:00.000-07:00

Suddenly, i have a social life in chennai. It is not the 'meeting a girl and wooing her' kind of social life. It is more of a 'bunch of badly dressed 30 year olds meeting up' kind. Folks who had flown away to far away lands have come back. Guys who had gotten married have been married long enough now for their wives to not miss them on a Friday evening. We meet at bars* that don't care about the colour of our underwears or whether we're wearing shoes, and discuss life, Vadivel comedies and our respective pasts and shaky futures, and whether a couple of us (last men standing) should ideally be 'meeting a girl(each) and wooing her' instead.

Visa approval has come at a time when i had reconciled to the idea of not leaving the country, and was even toying with the idea of moving to Bangalore sometime. To give fate a fair chance, i have blocked my interview date for Sep-11. White men at the US Consulate are likely to hate 'bloody immigrants' more passionately on that day. But it is likely that i'd be leaving Chennai in less than a month.

In other news, Saturdays are being spent wearing whites and playing leather ball cricket at Sindhi College grounds in some corporate tournament. It is a lot of fun. Even made a 50 a couple of weeks ago. Was mighty thrilled. The last time i made a 50 in a leather ball game was in final year college in a Hostel day match.

Life's been good. All i need now is a genie who'd do all my work...

* Most bars/pubs in chennai require the drinkers to be 'properly' dressed. The ones that don't have a dress code will typically be all-men's bars. I don't know how this works. Women don't go to bars where men don't wear shoes :). Also, at Benz Park (a place in T-Nagar), i saw two restrooms next to each other, and both had a 'Men's' sign board. Very amusing it was...

ps: The interview being on 9/11, and me reading a book titled 'The two towers' (LOTR -2) while awaiting my turn at the consulate notwithstanding, the consular officer thought i was neither 'potential immigrant' material nor 'terrorist' material, and granted me the visa. I could still try to smuggle Marijuana and get deported at the port of entry. Let's see...

Munnar

2008-08-17T06:29:00.000-07:00

Wet wet wet...

Nutt and Minnal at top-station...

Lotsof beedis. A little vodka. Old friends. Many conversations. Laughter. An interesting driver with a clear head and a tragic past. Incessant rains. Breathtaking views. Minor treks. Mist. Chaaya. Pazha bajji. Colorful umbrellas. Wet winding roads. A road-side eatery with a taurpalin top to keep the showers away, where a drunk guy shook my hands and said "I like your flaasafee in life" (Why he said so?, the vodka in my blood wouldn't allow me to recall). A room with a view of a church. And a hostess who said "God bless you child" when we were vacating the hotel room. Faith/No-faith, that was a beautiful moment. A trip that was worth it's while, and much more. A weekend of drenching in munnar.

Good bye 20s, Hell! Oh' 30s?...

2008-07-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

30. Officially old. Officially unattractive. Happy birthday to me :).

With some effort i can see my scalp. Though, from far, i'd seem to have a head full of hair. Everything looks prettier and more wholesome from far.

A recent celebrity dream. I've had them before. But, it's usually just the deed. No run ups, no frills. They're purely functional in nature. Aimed just at hormonal balance. This one was different. A U-Certificate celebrity dream. Late night conversations with Trisha in Thirvanmayur beach. Coffees. MTC bus rides (a definite impact of the 'Aayutha ezhuthu' sequence). We even stood at my favourite bridge in Muttukaad, watching the sun go down. I woke up with a kind of light-headed happy feeling. The kind you get up with when you're in a nice lazy relationship. Or an illusion of being in one, looking forward to the day, looking forward to seeing the face you want to see. I've been there before. But it's been a while and i'm out of touch. So this was a nice dream to dream.

Back to reality. Confounded by a bunch of criss-crosses. Like umpteen others...

Hang on, do better at the current job. Make up for possibly the worst work year in 9 years.

A viable business idea. Quit. Execute it. Be on the move, seeing new places while at it. See how it goes..

Move to the US. Do a part-time Geo course. Spend weekends surfing in Half-moon bay and Santacruz. Get real good at it.

Start a Table tennis school. Cater to cash-rich corporate men/women. And to kids to whose life sport will make a difference. With a proper operational plan, ensure it doesn't go into charity mode and ensure that the kids have their pride and self esteem intact.

Marry? Even have a daughter at some point maybe? Have a family to support and be supported by. The whole nine yards.

Take a year off. Travel around India by the most economical means. Document it. No wordy paragraphs. Just facts. To aid other travellers. And pictures, yes.

Many wants. One life.

Here's to hope, and the road ahead...

Sunrise...

2008-07-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

An out of shape sun rising behind a thick cloud cover...Taken in the Gharwal himalayas last year...Again, for Cuckoo's monthly kompteeshun...

If you'd been a beer drinker and turned a vodka drinker, going back to beer could be very very difficult..Way too much effort for the same result...

Dipikaji: Ek vodka large, with lime cordial, soda, 4 ice cubes..

Bartender: Lekin aap normally bade bothal waale Beer peethae hai na?

Dipikaji: Agar wahi nasha, wahi kick, kam milli litres mein mil jaae tho mai bade bothal waale beer kyon piyoon?

Bartender: Maan gae Dipikaji, aapko aur aapki Vodka ko...

Agla kaaryakram 'Rangoli'...

Random post, I can't bring myself to post a post without a title...

2008-06-18T10:58:00.000-07:00

The above pic is an entry to Cuckoo's topic for the month, 'Lonely'. A leafless tree/shrub standing alone in a barren stretch always evokes that emotion in me. This was taken during a trek to Kumara Parvatha (that's the second tallest peak in Karnataka, next to Muliyangiri).

It is June and I am still in chennai. Visa gods are refusing to smile. I've been living in a state of transit for way too long. So, instead of waiting for life to happen in Bay area, i thought i should get on with life in chennai. If and when the move happens it'll happen. I read somewhere, forgot whose quote it is, but it goes something like this: 'No matter how far you travel, at the other end you'll find yourself'.

I re-joined the place i used to play Table tennis in. In a couple of weeks i should be playing in the state ranking circuit. It's been a while since i played competitive. Looking forward to seeing familiar faces. If i manage one top-16 finish by the end of the season i'll be more than happy. I think i am happiest playing some sport and being involved in some kind of physically exerting pursuit. In Amit's terminology, playing improves my body's serotonin levels (that's some happiness associated chemical...and Amit is this doctor guy i met at NIM who insists on giving a technical explanation to every mood swing, and his body apparently produces serotonin most when he is climbing in the himalayas :).

Does anybody watch the 'Lok Sabha' channel. It is one of those Dordarshan channels with viewership probably limited to places that are dependent on a Panchayat owned Television airing only DD channels. Anyways, they show these films made by FTII Pune's diploma students and movies that NFDC sponsors and the like. They're all so beautifully made. Like yesterday they showed this short film called 'Saanj' by someone called Jasmine Kaur. It was about this senile old man living alone and a young guy and a girl living next door trying to reach out. It was so beautifully shot and so sensitively done. And almost every movie or short film screened there touches a chord. Probably because of the honesty to story-telling that comes with being a student whose objective is the creation itself and not the returns it fetches. If you get the channel, watch it.

May has come and gone and i am yet to take the year's quota of break. Work scene is not pretty. Hoping to get away by June end or early July, at least for a week. Will do the 'Valley of flowers' trek or do Vaishno Devi, Dal lake and the Taj. Need to do some major 'pulling up socks' act before that to get over the deficit accrued over a listless work phase. Fingers crossed.

Confessions...

2008-04-27T04:09:00.000-07:00

A man's worth must be measured by the number of people who come for his funeral. Not the ones who come out of courtesy. Or those who are fulfilling a formal obligation by coming. But the ones who have the urge to look at him one last time. The obscure ones whose presence is largely ignored. The tailor from the street corner. The cycle shop owner two streets away. The mechanic who always mended his struggling scooter. They did not enter his home and offer condolensces. But they were all there during the cremation. Scores of them. Standing in random nooks. Unnoticed. Paying their respects. And leaving as silently as they arrived. He had never realized that his Father had touched so many lives. The gravity of what he had lost would come to the surface much later. He was far removed from the catastrophy he was in the middle of. Insensitive, if you may. But life would change irreversibly. The bridge across to his sister would be broken. His fault. He was an escapist coward. Hiding away in the safety of his hostel. While his sister picked up the pieces, confronted the demons, and held things together. The bridge has been mended since. Bonds re-established. But some mistakes don't deserve a second chance. He was fortunate to have one.

It would be quite a while before he realized the enormity of the loss. He would do it alone, in his hostel room. He would find unlikely allies in P and N. The guys who included him in their fold when he was at the point of losing it. It is strange how the toughest of times forge these strong bonds. Or break seemingly strong ones.

It has been over ten years now. Some snapshots keep coming back. Bicycle lessons on a rented bicycle, 50 paise per hour, two siblings quarreling over whether a 10-minute slot was over, and a fair dad playing judge. An unexpected Hero-Unibike gift to two very delighted kids. Cricket on the terrace. Cricket in the Hall. Dips in Cauvery marked by failed swimming lessons. Early morning scooter lessons, and how his dad wouldn't panic or let him panic when the gravest of mistakes were made on the road. Shuttle in the garden with Mom's saree for a net. Home grown chillies and tomatoes, and at one particular time, even maize. There were no fancy shoes or expensive clothes. No birthday parties and other such frills. But he and his sis would go to the best of schools. Live in nice homes. However bad business was, however tight finances were. His dad always knew what was more important and what wasn't. Always neatly dressed, hair neatly combed, a battered sandal colore suitcase in hand, an asthmatic sneeze as accompaniment, his dad was so full of energy and life, a compulsive optimist, a dreamer who shielded his kids from reality. He would think back of his dad with fondness and a sense of pride. And guilt. And bestow upon him the kindof respect he deserved. A little too late.

Tipsy again..posting again...with apologies to the irate anonymous commenter of the previous post..

2008-04-10T12:50:00.000-07:00

I usually go out with a bunch of guys. There is no future with them since i am straight. Or i meet married women or women with boyfriends, fiances and the like (the unavailable kind). I am most comfortable with them since there is no need to appear cool or impress or score brownie points. But at times i wish i was meeting a woman whose feet my feet touch under the table, while we pretend to have a serious conversation about communism or theoritical physics, neither of which either of us have a clue about, and go on and graduate to touching feet without having to pretend. I guess i am too old for such games. But is anybody too old for such games? I've been middle-aged in my head for a while now. I think in the period from 26 to 30, an average human ages a million and 11 years, give or take 3 years.Was chatting with P the other day. When we talk, the topic shifts to my singularity every once in a while. She says "Have an open mind da...u dont have to tell anyone its arranged...but try and meet ppl...u dont have to marry every girl u meet...or any girl for that matter...but its nice to yell at someone in the morning when ur back is killing u...just for that its worth spending a few hours buying someone coffee-tiffen". Wisdom, no?

I used to think blogs were written by sad people with no personal lives. And then i started blogging. I used to think orkut was inhabited by stupid flirtatious 20 somethings with nothing better to do. But then i joined orkut. Buying a house, spending lakhs on a concrete piece, used to be an unthinkable idea and that's exactly what i did recently. Metamorphosis or wishy-washiness, term it as you please. I used to think arranged marriages were acts of desperation that i couldn't relate to. I don't think so any more. I am not out in the market. But when a friend tries to hook me up with a random being that he/she knows, i don't turn it down the way i used to less than a year ago...

ps: TQ, see, i can be tipsy and talk only about myself too. Am not all that nice :).

Drunk...after a really long time...

2008-03-14T12:59:00.000-07:00

Drink very rarely these days..get drunk even more rarely...And alcohol doesn't tickle my brains no more...Still a high does not feel bad...Went with P and V. Occasion was what i mentioned in the previous post, the concrete piece.

Am a big fan of P. I've grown to respect him for his work ethic and brilliance, and love his company for the sense of humour with which he deals with everything. V is a long time friend. Haven't really worked with him, but anyone who knows him will like him.

Random talks...Beer...Wine...Rum...Of how much our dads have done for each of us...the schools we went to...the education we got...despite the lean patches our parents went through...the things they gave up for our good..the platform that helped us get where we are..Of past love lifes, or the imagination of an existence of one, or some...Of bulbs* given, bulbs got...names withheld of course...events are more important than the people they happen to...More beer..more rum...Of what we think is in store...V will live on in chennai...likes his life...likes his wife...is pragmatic...is a husband and a dad...P is engaged...gathered enough courage recently, to tell his fiance, that he kind of likes the effect alcohol has on his head and his life...he is still engaged, so things are not too bad...And as for me, i am looking forward to leaving chennai...Living in the bay area...Writing code for a living...Being around Sis and Bil a lil...Figuring out if i'd like earth sciences as much as i fancy it...The more i talk about leaving chennai, the more i feel i am going to be around for longer than i desire...Lets see...

Am beginning to wonder if there was any point to this post...So i'll read some news for the record...Important things have happened to people important to me...P put kutti and she calls her son Sanjay...fully nice only...D got her divorce and she can plan and look forward to the rest of her life...When she called me to tell me of the divorce, she sounded happier than what people sound like when they call me to tell me they've found someone...Made me wonder about the whole cycle...Sis has heart-burns, cant eat sambhar saadham, cant drink wine...and i find the former more tragic...B became an entrepreneur ...i am skeptical about his venture's success, but badly hope it does well and he makes it big...M became a nomad..G got domesticated...And i know you couldn't care less about the goings on in the life of V or P or Sis or B...but what to do..i am drunk...and these are the only things drunk fingers can type...so...so thats all...i am going to crash right now...

*Bulb - Chennai (Tamilnadu?) terminology...X likes Y, Y doesn't like X enough => Y gave Bulb to X. Understand?

Where i tell you i am this regular average bloke in a roundabout fashion...

2008-02-28T11:48:00.000-08:00

When the desire to board a train, any train, ticket in hand, bag on the shoulders, and no destination in mind, overwhelms the need to be engaged in the regular chore of writing code to make data frames travel from point A to point B (which, for most parts, would help random people download porn faster), the reality of having to pay EMI for the concrete piece that i've collected for myself, tilts the scales and decides things for me. How the fuck did i bring this upon myself?

Ok, i am being dramatic. I had said this some time ago. But last year i had taken a month's break. By the 4th week i was itching to write code, fix bugs, attend meetings and all that. I realized, for me, work gave a better illusion of purpose than climbing mountains or wandering. And a notion of being purposeful is important to be happy, no? Anyways, once this big existential question had been addressed, and i knew i'll continue to be overpaid for some time atleast, i decided to give in to the easier of my mom's two long pending requests, the 'Why don't you buy a home' one. That we were ousted from our previous home by the landlord helped too. I now owe HDFC a lot of money. And i own a home some 200 metres from the Thiruvanmiyur beach. Feels scary. Feels nice. I feel secure. I feel bogged down.

Meanwhile Mani has quit his job. Pooja quit her's a while ago. And they are on the road on a Thunderbird, indefinitely. I'll try and enjoy their travels, vicariously. And maybe visit them for weekends once in a while. Yep, thats more like it. Mad work schedules interspersed with short breaks and travels, and a Himalaya darshan for the summer (deciding between Nepal and Sikkim this year). Taking a vacation suits me better than living one i guess...

Taare Zameen Par..

2008-02-17T10:27:00.000-08:00

I wish Aamir's entry had been less dramatic. And it reminded me of Robin William's entry into the cancer ward in 'Patch Adams'. Calvin's 'Spaceman spiff' avatar must've influenced Ishan's '9 X 3' solution (am glad that scene was there though). And the movie should've probably ended at the point where Ishaan leaves the hostel early on the day of the contest, to take in the scene for his painting, Aamir's voice in the background. Leaving loose ends gives things a beauty mundane completeness doesn't. It is good when movies, like life, end with us wanting more of it. But we did love to see Ishaan win the contest. We did love the look on the kid's face and the lump on our throats when he sees that Aamir has drawn a portrait of him. Who are we kidding! I am glad the movie did not end earlier than it actually did. We want to see it all. We are incorrigible. It was a beautiful movie. Loved it.

About the dog and the deaths of random people...

2008-02-08T05:22:00.000-08:00

The dog is no longer there. The white one that used to remain curled up on the landing of the staircase. That takes me up to my work place every day. The dog was a daily sight. A comforting one. What reason, i do not know. I hope it has found a new home. I am not a big fan of dogs. I am not the animal lover kind either. Except that i don't eat them. But this dog had endeared itself to me somehow. Every day i would think of feeding it the Good Day biscuits from the cafeteria i so hate. Never did it. There are so many things i think earnestly but never do. Next time i see that dog, i'll feed it Good day biscuits first thing. It is funny how random beings affect your life. Like the time when 'Monal' died. I was oddly sad. She was Simran's cousin and had come down to try her luck in Tamil films. She had commited suicide. I was coming back from Munnar. With a bunch of friends. And saw posters splashing news of her death at the Dindugal bus stand. And i was hit by this weird sense of grief. As if someone dear was gone. Or the time when Hrishikesh Mukherji died. Atleast i loved his movies. How the mind's strings get pulled to make you feel a certain unexplainable way, i haven't a clue. But i hope the white dog has found a peaceful nook to curl up and sleep...

Mai bhi happy new year post likhoongaa...

2008-01-01T05:25:00.000-08:00

So, 2007 has come to an end. I tried hard to make the earlier sentence sound less lame and cooler and all but couldn't. So i settled for "So, 2007 has come to an end". I dont understand how people like Pri, Partly Cloudy (this blog is no more, so sad) etc manage to be so funny, serious, breezy, poignant etc so effortlessly (all in the same post at times, and for most parts Pri is just extremely funny, i simply like using the other adjectives!). I am so jealous. Discovered a few other really nice blogs too. Ok, that's not the point of this post. We are not making speeches about strangers' blogs. We are doing a happy new year post.

I must remember to write the correct year in the cheques this year. And also tear check(this spelling is so much easier) leaves from the right check book. No more free Rs.393s ICICI. Sorry. That's Resolution #1. Yes I make new year resolutions.

Was your year any good?

Mine was...hmm...Lemme see...I added a new colour to my beard. White. Used to be only black, brown and grey. Now there is white too. Good no?

And then i hung around with this crowd of very youngish people for a while. People who still looked at the world through rose-tinted glasses. The kind that would go to Beasant Nagar beach for 'Friendship day' and tie 'Friendship bands' on each others' wrists! Find rose coloured heart shaped balloons cute. Find stuffed toys cute. Forward mails with subjects that read "This is so cute!". Generally use the word 'cute' a lot. Ok, you get the drift right..It was a nice happy crowd, but truth be told, i started hanging out with this group primarily because i was drawn to a certain someone in it (i am normally more comfortable around jaded cynics:). But some things are not meant to work. This one certainly wasn't i guess. So, on the morning that the certain someone was leaving Chennai for good, we met at Marina, stared at the sea for a while, spoke very little, and said our Good Byes. We even gave each other parting gifts. To remember what we could've had but didn't quite have by.

And then I had a tooth pulled out. Man that was so violent! Was shocking. And had a root canal done. If i had a choice i would prefer a heart attack or something. I think i should knock of all teeth and get a set. Be done with them once and for all! Fucking teeth! I still have 2 fillings to be done. It is worse than going to a proctologist!

And then i waved to atleast 35 people while shitting and they waved back (some of them were at it themselves and some weren't). No, seriously. Now, how many of you can stake a claim to such a feat hun? [Pats self on back].

The 'And then's remind me of 'Hey dude where's my car'...Remember the scene where they're in a car and are ordering food at a drive in and an automated voice keeps going on and on repeating 'And then' 'And then' 'And then' even after they're done with the orders and they get all irritated and bash up the machine and the machine continues to say 'And then 'And then' anyways, but now in a funny electronic voice and all...It was a lame movie but that scene was hilarious. And I am digressing. Ok one final 'And then'..

And then i e-mailed a blog stranger and even met her. Now, please bring down those raised eye-brows and stop rolling your eyes. I guess P's "Being open to new experiences" fundaa is kind of rubbing off on me. Plus my extreme boredom helped too. But it was actually a rather nice thing to go through. I was very sleepy and i can't remember much of the conversation (Except that she mentioned Drivers' license a few times. C, don't call me names :). But i came off it feeling vaguely nice and wanting to do it again when i was more awake. Plus, I had nearly forgotten the notion of looking forward to e-mails...

And yea, the high point of the year was, surviving the basic mountaineering course at NIM. Even literally (16400 feet you see. Now i am bragging. Shall stop. Sorry.). But the lull that followed the course, in terms of treks and travel, is not a good sign. Amends to be made. Resolution #2 - Spend less time at work. And more importantly, when you are at work, just work (Resolutions applicable only from tomorrow, i am currently at work you see :)..

This post has become too long. I am yawning. And so shall you if you've come this far...

2007 was not bad after all. But very few things are bad on hind sight no? The past is, for most parts, comforting. It is like home. It may not be a fancy place with italian tiles and acrylic paints. But you're comfortable in it's red oxide and cement and white wash...

I hope to leave Chennai in 2008. Atleast for a bit. Need to do that to keep my love for the city intact :). If things go as planned i should be in the Bay Area by mid 2008. But do things ever go as planned? Eyes looking west and fingers crossed...

Anyways, to those passing by, wishing you much happiness and other such pink stuff this year. Have a good one...

Of Doing the right things...

2007-12-22T07:43:00.000-08:00

Eddie Willers, in 'Atlas Shrugged' would've been asked as a kid, what he wants to do when he grows up. And he says "To do the right thing". That, for me, was one of the most telling statements of the book. He is not in the same league as John Galt or Francisco De Anconio. But he gives his best shot and leads an honest life and always, always does the right thing.

Saw 'Evano oruvan' a couple of days back. Loved it for it's intent. 'Evano Oruvan's' Sridhar Vasudevan reminded me of Eddie Willers for some reason (there are no striking similarities, just that i thought 'Sridhar Vasudevan' lived by that 'Eddie Willers' statement). He is not a hot shot super competent genius. A regular bank employee leading a run-of-the-mill life. But, with unshakeable integrity. Someone who keeps the rights right and the wrongs wrong and does not compromise just because that is the more convenient thing to do. He is pushed to a wall. He snaps, breaks free, and goes berserk. The movie had some profound moments. The scenes with the street-dweller/artist, the Madhavan monologue in the middle of the night, the police-officer's monologue at the end, to name a few. The police-officer's monologue, in particular, was quite hard hitting.

I wish Madhavan had revisited and modified some of the dialogues he penned. While some of them were good, some of them were quite cliched. But a theme like this, i'll gladly ignore all the flaws and lap up the movie.

I am not naive enough to think that movies are going to transform a society. Most people prefer being pragmatic to being honest and right. Parents want to get to the Gods quicker. They bribe the priest. The kids are watching. A generation of kids is infected. A bunch of freshers join a company. They see the seniors busily filling out fake 'Rent receipts' and fake 'Medical bills'. A generation of tax payers is infected. You can make umpteen 'Anniyans' (which is a lousy movie by the way, stay away) or 'Evano Oruvans', nothing will change. Our folks are not that stupid or that impressionable. Nevertheless i am glad 'Evano Oruvan' was made....

Current affairs

2007-12-11T06:24:00.000-08:00

Life has been stagnant for a while. A few eventful things did happen. But they weren't very pretty. So at 29 you suddenly feel 95. You hate being in brood mode for too long. It is a viscious cycle. Negativity breeds more negativity. Forgive the cliche, but life is much simpler when it is a series of check boxes and you haven't started questioning things yet. You want to be in your class magazine's editorial board (just so that P thinks you're a cool chap). You want to score 90+ in math and science (just so that your dad could think for a fleeting moment that you're as smart as your sis). You want to be in your school's TT team for the Montfort tournament in Yercaud. You want to sit next to P and watch a movie in Kailasapuram Club (that never happened, but you're quite satisfied with just a smile from her while picking up your bicycle after the movie). You want to land an admit in a decent college. You want to land a job. Any job. Just to get you out of an unexpected tight spot that presented itself. You want to make peace with your sis for a nasty situation which is mostly your doing. Some things go your way. Some things dont. But you're happy when things go right and when you're sad you know exactly why.

But suddenly, the rest of the check boxes do not appeal to you. Or so you've managed to convince yourself. And you think you're in the wrong place doing the wrong things and time is just passing by.

When you have this vague dissatisfaction gnawing at you and you don't even know why, it is tragic. Now, you don't really know your problem, or, are you pretending? When you keep telling yourself that there is more to life than having a companion, are you being totally honest? Would you ever shed your ego and admit that you don't totally enjoy the idea of being by yourself most of the time, reading by the beach, travelling alone to Uttarkashi or Hampi or Kerala. That you'd rather that there is someone who tags along. Someone you could talk to, drink with, sleep with, share cigarrettes, darkness, life and secrets with. I am not a regular smoker, but sharing a cigarette with a companion does not sound too cancerous.

Shit!, did i sound too needy? I'll probably come back tomorrow, knock this post off and write a pseudo post about how it is so cool to be absolutely independent and on your own all the time. But until then, please deal with the honester version. Applications to fill the void are being accepted. You must be female, single and a shade crazy. Drinking, smoking and an appetite to travel are preferred qualities. We could replace alcohol with coffee and cigarrettes with biscuits, but it wouldnt be quite the same, would it? From my side, i promise to be nice, loyal and honest. I cut nails and hair very rarely and shave once a month utmost and have 35 grey coloured t-shirts. When i receive no applications, i'll start posting anonymous comments.

Waaththa fuck...

2007-11-12T05:59:00.000-08:00

Otha. Pronounced as Oaththa or Waaththa. Depending on conditioning. It is a tamil word that translates to 'Fuck'. Emitting this word loudly calms me a bit. The english equivalent doesnt. But where i come from it is considered cool to say 'Fuck'. Cooler if you say it aloud. And way cooler if there are women around and you announce you dont care. But you say 'Otha', you are a lungi wearing truck driving lecherous pervert. I dont have anything against lungi wearing. Or truck driving. But i might have something against lecherous perverts. So if someone thinks i am one i wont like it. This has had some serious repercussions. Around here, kids are brought up to beleive "Man saying Otha = Very bad man". And going by last year's opinion-pool, men kindof grow out it, but women dont. So basically my chances of hitting it off with with any tamil-knowing girl were ruined. Same applies for non-tamil-knowing girls who know tamil-knowing girls (cos tamil-knowing girls tend to protect non-tamil-knowing girls from 'Very bad men'). That pretty much covers all the girls in my RADAR. And i hold this and only this fully responsible for my singularity :). Now you see my problem. Tch tch...

ps: If i find a otha-emitting girl i'll pursue her unto death...

pps: Is this problem local to just tamil. I mean if you're a telugu speaking guy and you shout out 'Dhengu' (that's telugu for 'Fuck'), and the girl you might probably fancy is in the vicinity, would she think of you as anything more than scum (atleast to start with) ?

Overcast...

2007-11-06T09:53:00.000-08:00

The Beach...

Dark skies. Ice-cold rain. Stormy winds. An extremely rough sea. A desolate thiruvanmiyur beach. 5 people in all. A boy-girl rosy eyed pair. I liked them instantly. Just because they were there at that point. Two other strangers, an umbrella apiece. And me, a helmet on my head, and the rest of me getting wet. Troubles? What are they? Life is all bliss...

But then, the skies clear. The winds cease to blow. The sea calms down. And real life resurfaces...

Haridwar...

2007-10-20T09:27:00.000-07:00

Dear River...

Saffron...

The girl in pink...

Ganga-mayyaa ki jai ho!...

Haridwar. Another place i fleetingly dipped in, in transit. There are so many places like that. That i managed to pause, take a look, before moving on (When you are on a highway, and you see these narrow lefts with jaded signboards announcing obscure names, do you wonder about that place and the people there, and have the urge to take that turn?). And almost all of them have left indelible marks behind. Because of the brevity, maybe. Had a day to kill and i had to choose between Taj Mahal and Haridwar. Laziness and the Delhi-heat helped me settle for Haridwar.

I wanted to take a dip in the Ganges(Har-ki-paudi) and witness the Ganga-aarathi. When i go to a place of prominence for the first time, i always do the things people typically go there for. Explorations of 'beynond the typical' would happen on future trips. So i took a Rickshaw to Har-ki-paudi. I would've normally walked.But walking was all i had done for an entire month. So decided to pamper myself a bit.

I got off at Har-ki-paudi. Saw the Ganges rushing by. Wandered around aimlessly. A 'Sadhu' walked upto me, put a Tilak on my forehead, chanted something in Sanskrit. Then he asked me for money. I smiled at him in response. He had a very serene face. He smiled back and walked on. I regretted not having parted with some money. But i wouldn't have liked it if i had paid him either. So it was alright. Then i decided to take a dip. The water was quite cold. But not unbearably cold. What hit me was the speed, the swiftness of the flow. Was in the waters for a while, letting the Ganges cleanse me(for me, only in the literal sense)...

And then it was time for Ganga-aarathi. Happens twice a day. At 7 am and 7 pm. It was a frenzied affair. I was unprepared for the kindof collective energy being vented out. It was impossible to keep myself from feeling one with the things around me. There was a moment's envy when i saw people whose faith was so nakedly visible. There were uniformed guys hawking wishes from Ganga-Mayya, 100 bucks per wish. There were quite a lot of buyers. There were a couple of firangs capturing Indian mysticism for other firangs. And then there was this little girl in pink, holding a pink and green camera. She was a darling. She befriended me with an array of curious questions. And then she asked the firang about his camera. And for every response of his, she claimed her camera could do that too. I actually felt paternal. Took me by surprise. The actual aarathi was a visual treat. The darkness and the fire. It ended with the entire crowd singing a Bhajan on Ganga-mayyaa in chorus (the tune was that of the Bhajan 'Om Jai Jagadeeshahare', which i love). I got a high.

I sat by the river for some more time. I walked back to my hotel room rather slowly. Original plan was to go to a bar, get a drink and then crash. But i wanted to stay in a totally conscious state. Didn't want the blur of alcohol at that point. So i went to a restaurant instead, ate, spoke to M (who was on vacation in Delhi), and got back to 'English August'...

This experience increased my resolve to see Allahabad's Kumbh Mela atleast once...

Unrequited...

2007-09-26T21:45:00.000-07:00

He wants her so bad that his entire life centres around her. Or so he thinks. For her, he is a very dear friend. But she can never return his love, on equal terms. He wants to hug her so tight that they be one. That no air pass between them. At times, she suffocates around him. And is too nice and polite to speak her mind.

They sit huddled. Under a thin ice shelter. In blazing sunlight. She feels miserably lonely. He feels lonely too. But just being around her is enough for him. To hang on and hope. She cant bring herself to hurt him. She cant get up and walk. Though a voice inside her head is screaming at her. Asking her to flee. Some day she will.

But why dont they sit at a table and talk. And not pretend. Why cant he confront her with what he truly wants. Why cant she tell him the truth. In honest unabridged terms. And bring his world crashing down. So that he can grow up. So that he can pick up the pieces and move on. Nobody totally moves on. But the process would've atleast begun. And maybe, a semblance of the friendship they used to share can be salvaged.

...Certified...

2007-09-15T09:56:00.000-07:00

Our rope with our rope-instructor at the base camp(2nd from left would be me)..

The NIM basic course certificate arrives at work. Had given the office address. Mom is away in sister-land and I am never home. Did not want this to be lost like the innumerable phone bills and credit card bills. Ashwani (the guy who sits next to me and to whom most letters/calls meant for me go...sometimes they call him Avinash too…and of course sometimes I am called Ashwani…is it too difficult to tell the difference?) had collected the cover. He hands it over to me. I take it from him saying that the grade would mostly be a ‘B’. My usual defense mechanism against prospective disappointments. If you want something pretty badly, start by assuming you wouldn’t get it. I ought to change this aspect of myself. It prepares me better for disappointments. But I think at some level it makes me less of a fighter. Of course not everything can be fought for and won. But still…So I open the cover. I have butterflies in my stomach. A voice in my head is crying out aloud ‘Please please be A!’. I have the kind of anxiety I had while looking up semester results in college. May be a little more. Much more actually. I fish out the certificate. There, among other things, it is mentioned “Grading Awarded: A”, “Recommended for Advanced Mountaineering course”. I am thrilled to bits. I think the last time I was this thrilled was when I saw my registration number when PEC entrance exams results were announced. I bask in the glory for a few moments. Someone has a work related query. I answer it. I get on with real life. But a corner of my mind is still smiling…And wondering if I should be doing the Advanced…If I should be subjecting my back to one more stress test…And if I do, should I be going back to NIM or try out HMI Darjeeling (and set feet on Kanchenjunga:)…

Of Pigeons, Sex and looking out the window...

2007-09-10T05:17:00.000-07:00

Outside my office window there sits a pigeon. It sits there all day. Looking at the buildings around. Looking at the traffic below. Scratching itself. Making noises. Once in a while another pigeon comes by. They fool around. One sits on top of the other and flaps its wings mad. I think they’ve sex. It is too brief though, so I cant be sure. I am not sure if it is the same pigeon that comes in every time. Are pigeons monogamous? NGC covers only outlandish beings like Polar-bears and Penguins. Has anyone ever seen a program on Crows or Sparrows or Pigeons on NGC or Animal Planet? Aroon in one of his sketches has a boy looking at a fish-tank and wondering “All fishes do is eat, sleep and reproduce. Why do people have to do more?”. The pigeons remind me of this.

Recently, a clichéd (but not insignificant) question floated around at work, about what one would do if he/she had only a day left to live. Most guys said they wanted to attain Moksha (which is an euphemism for ‘having sex’, yea considering how old we guys were theres no need for euphemisms...but it adds to the fun while discussing such stuff). The only girl who said something, said she’d meet all her friends, take them to her hometown, be with her parents etc. I am just assuming she wasn’t being absolutely honest. I am a bundle of contradictions in the Moksha department. There is this (pseudo?)morality hardwired that prevents me from committing the act unless I am sure I want to commit myself to that person. But i find it ok for people to be in a full blown mutually non-commital relationship (that's a contradiction in so many levels :). I can't be them, but i can't fault them either. I am a fan of grey. But was dipped in black and white very young, and for too long, to fully embrace grey. And it is not about marriage or any such technicality (I don’t find the need to legalize relationships), it is just about the state of mind and what one feels towards another. Maybe some day I’ll wriggle out of this state of mind and agree with a friend who says “What the heck, it is just entertainment…why attach so much weight to it?” (though i dont realistically see myself trivializing the act to this extent), or maybe, though not as ‘liberated’ in thought, take a middle ground, or maybe someday tread the ideal path.

Hedonistic Hobo (a random blog that I am a fan of) writes “Look sex is a biological need, not a moral question. If you've entered in to adolescence and are now careening in to elderliness and are still a virgin then you're fucked but not in the way evolution intended.” I smile. I agree. I disagree. I’ve been standing on this border eternally and time has been passing by…

Uttarkashi..

2007-06-18T13:39:00.000-07:00

I like small towns. Touristy ones. Quaint ones. Rameshwaram, Hampi, Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Gokarna, Yaelagiri, Manali... They're filled with people from far and wide. People of different kinds. Some, energitically running around to squeeze in all the places they had read about, in a 2 day span. Some, sitting back sipping tea and drinking words out of a book. The hippie kind. Without a fixed agenda. Sitting in exotically named eateries that prefer white-skinned customers to brown-skinned ones. You could walk around. Taking in all this. Putting stories to faces. Wondering if India is the only place where the natives are racist against the natives. Wondering a lot of other things. But the air is very holidayee and it is generally nice. The obvious reason is probably that you would be there on a break, and you are predisposed to feel holidayee...but still..

Happened to spend some time in Uttarkashi recently. While at NIM hostel, we were allowed two 3 hour slots in Uttarkashi town for 'shopping'. The objective was to buy essentials before going to the higher altitudes. I was not inclined to shop. So generally walked around town. Ate veg momos in multiple shops. Drank multiple teas. Took random pictures. Sat by the Bhagirathi. Gaped at beautifully arranged coconut slices, arranged against a bright red plastic sheet. Did not take a picture cos i thought i might offend the shop-keeper (i dint want him to go, 'here comes another fkin tourist taking pictures of ppl trying to make a living!'). Bought a slice of coconut and ate though. Then there was this long suspension bridge across Bhagirathi. And the omnipresent Sadhus. Quite a few of them smoking what i beleive is ganja, on a terrace by the river. Pseudo-nirvana. Temporary suspension of reality. Not that it is bad. Quantum smokes of heaven? Tried it once in a far away land. Gives a weird kindof high. Then there was this small temple by the river. Sat there watching faces. Faces earnest in prayer. It is nice to watch people pray no. Whatever they're they'll probably be more inclined to be vice-less at that point in time. Not sure though. At length, my 3 hours got over and i reluctantly walked back to our bus, to resume the brief regimental life. Not before Uttarkashi firmly added itself to the list of small towns i would gladly go back to.

On the way back from Uttarkashi to Chennai, managed to spend a day in Haridwar..will keep that for some other time...

Survived...

2007-05-30T10:20:00.000-07:00

28 days. 18 days of it above 11500 feet. 4 baths. 2 T-shirts. 2 pants. 4 underwears. No washing of clothes of any category (unless you are a DIG or some decorated Army officer, in which case you could get special treatment). A place where UK is an acronym for Uttarkashi and RC for Rock climbing (i am yet to come to terms with RC being Rock climbing and not Royal challenge:). Where tea is typically had at 4:45 am. Where you carry ice axes when you go to shit (to make pits), and you wave to batchmates while you're at it (beleive me, after a point, it is not embarassing, and shitting with a view of the Himalayas is no longer surreal)! Where you figure out if your socks is wet or just cold by checking if it is half-solid cos of frozen sweat. Where you're ordered to do knuckle push-ups or frog jumps, depending on the instructor's mood, for acts of indiscipline (like being late for a fall-in). You camp on snow and there is just snow all around. And it is not like being in a dream sequence...it is so fucking cold that you put your hand in your crotch or arm-pits for warmth (i found the former more effective). Along the way you are taught Rock craft, Ice craft, Snow craft, Crevace crossing, Crevace rescue, Map reading and navigation techniques, among other things, and you're taken to a height of ~16500 feet as part of the height-gain exercise. You're made to do things that are so demanding physically that you wish that the course gets over soon. And when it does get over, you hug your rope-mates (the batch is divided into sub-groups of 8, called ropes, and each rope is assigned an instructor), you hug other friends you've made, you hug your instructor, and you think the course was a pretty good thing to go through after all. And when the jeep rolls out of NIM, you look back at the campus fondly, and wonder if you would go back to do the 'Advance' course. (Ofcourse, for that you need an 'A' in Basic, and the inclination).

NIM, here I come, (to get creamed?)

2007-04-11T09:45:00.000-07:00

I saw the Himalayas for the first time in 2003. Knew instantly that that wouldnt be the last. I had gone on a 9 day trek in the Himachal region (near Solang Nala). That was my first real trek. And the real reason for my going on that trip was neither Himalayas nor trekking. But i am glad i did that. It got me totally hooked. All around you, things are beautiful. You are heading to a peak or a glacier that has an exotic name. You exert yourself crazy doing so. A bunch of people tag along. Some swear. Some want to kick themselves for having gotten into such a predicament. Some want to kick others for getting them into such a predicament. Some are way too tired to complain or to see the beauty around. And then the destination is reached. All ills are forgotten. The entire exercise gives an illusion of purpose. It is truly amazing. And there is something surreal about defecating at 15000 ft. Surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Moon rays reflecting off the icy slopes. It offers such a profound contradiction. The beauty and the shit. And you anxiously keep looking over your shoulders. Someone from the camp could walk by. Or worse, a bear from the forests could walk by (thats far-fetched, but your mind can think up any crap). I got totally taken in by the idea of carrying a heavy bag and walking on trails for no specific purpose. Went there again in 2004. This time Himalayas was the real reason. After that I've been doing random treks in random places whenever possible, always wanting to do something more serious, like they show in Adventure-One and stuff. I sent a request to join some expedition in the Himalayas by a group called Stikage in Delhi last year. They politely turned me down saying i didnt have enough high altitude experience.

Anyways, shook off lethargy this year and enrolled for the Basic mountaineering course at Nehru Institute of Mountaineering at Uttarkashi. But could not shake off lethargy enough to train myself for it adequately. So here i am, 10 days away from the course. Awfully underprepared. Quite anxious. Blessed with a back that is not the best in the world. But still, looking forward to the 28-day slog-fest that is in store. Hoping to pull through. And hoping that my body does not have other plans...

Regret trigger...

2007-04-01T05:04:00.000-07:00

What would be your biggest regret if you knew you had very little time left? Would you wish you were nicer to your parents. Nicer to your partner. Nicer to your friends and siblings. Would you regret not having had a companion you could die for, you could kill for. Knowing he/show would do the same for you without batting an eyelid. A relationship that defies the native human self-preservative instincts. Would you regret not having stepped off the safety-net onto the relatively unknown, cos it did not confirm to the series of check-boxes you had planned for yourself. Would you regret not having achieved enough, not having made a difference. Or would you look back with a sense of satisfaction, a sense of achievement, and a pinch of regret (can't be all rosy, whoever you are), and embrace the moment?

To borrow what Ethan Hawke says in 'Reality bites', I would have a planet of regrets sitting on my shoulders. But i have a sizeable amount of time left (you cant be sure about such things, but still..). And a will to do something about it. And a potent combination of laziness and cynicism to prevent me from doing something about it.

On an unrelated note, the song 'BC Sutta' has been playing on my comp forever since yesterday and in my head whenever i leave my comp. The 'sutta' in the song is supposedly a metaphor for abandoned dreams. Thanks to Solilowkey (you could find the link for the song there) for making me cast my ears on this. Be forewarned that this song has a liberal dose of bad-mouthing and is not meant for fragile ears and moral science teachers.

Mindfucked in Madras

2007-02-15T07:50:00.000-08:00

I did not expect life to come to this. But i've timed out in chennai. The ocean and the heat(which i like) notwithstanding. I thought i would generally live on here without any complaints, until i grow old and senile. And when the time comes, step into the Bay of Bengal and drown peacefully. But the mind seeks change now. Working towards changing geographies in the foreseeable future.

Someone who reads my blog(who i do not know personally) had asked a friend if i was a depressed alcoholic with 'woman' problems!!..Was i dishing out such sad tales?:). Some 4 years or so back, when i was younger naiver stupider happier, a friend kept telling me that i lived in a bubble (what she did not tell me was that it would break in time). Break, it did. But then, i am nowhere in the vicinity of such description. Just a regular 28 year old. Not-too-happy. Not-too-sad. A bit lost. A bit cynical. The problem is, once food and shelter are taken care of, the mind has a knack for churning out random concerns to screw up your existence. Mine does that too. But you just learn to fight your fights, laugh your laughs, crib your cribs and snatch your moments...

Thadiyendamol

2007-02-02T23:45:00.000-08:00

Peak-a-boo

Pooja (Mani's wife) minutes before she fell off the edge!..

The trip didn't get jinxed as i had feared in the previous post. But if you head up to the Thadiyendamol peak assuming that you'll find water in the forests close by you're fucked. Myself and Mani had to do go down half the way to fetch pails of water (for vodka, noodles/soup, plain consumption, in that order of priority). Should've listened to Aroon (http://www.arunwho.com/). He had asked us to fill water supplies on the way up...Anyways alls well that ends well (assuming that the nagging pain in my knee would go away in time!)..

Went with friends from college and some others they knew. The crowd had people that covered the entire gamut of the 'talking' spectrum...one extremely garrulous kind...one extremely silent kind...and others somewhere in between. Was good fun...Camped at the peak, ate, drank and made merry...Spoke late into the night...conversation strewn with 'profound' statements like "Hinduism is a way of life"(contributor - Gaurav, if you know him you'll also know that only alcohol can make him say things like this), "Evolution is bullshit. Someone should've created all these things" (contributor - Aroon, i know he'll say this even now)...

On the way back, Aroon helped the cause of future trekkers by making the huge boulder beside the trail to the stream, conspicously spell out (a little wrongly) the magic word "WATR". The meticulous Mani, in his blog (http://freevudu.blogspot.com/), as expected, has written a checklist for future Thadiyendamol visitors.

My camera ran out of batteries, so couldnt take too many pictures. Aroon has posted some pics he took here

Thamasoma jyothirgamayam

2007-01-19T08:39:00.000-08:00

A pic taken at Thungabadra dam during a recent trip...

The good thing about alone trips is...you could stop your bike somewhere along the way to take a picture of a tree that could be any tree in Chennai (except that this one grew it's roots in Hampi) and nobody would stop to ask what's wrong with you. You are totally at your own disposal.

But, at the end of the day, when you settle down for 2 beers, 3 cigarrettes and a banana-honey-pancake (only because they did not have parotta or dosai!), you wish there was someone sitting on the other side of the table sharing her (yes, preferably female) spoils for the day. Or a bunch of old friends around, discussing stuff that has been discussed a million times before. Instead, i was deciphering words from 'Inheritence of loss' with tipsy eyes until i was absolutely ready to crash.

Ofcourse the fun part of going places with juntha you know is unparallelled...

Finally managed to upload some pics... (http://www.flickr.com/photos/frissko/).

Going to Thadiyendamol (near coorg) with some friends from college next weekend. During the last trip with this crowd (to Kumaraparvatha), we were drinking RC late into the night, on a hill-top, pouring petrol and tomato-soup onto a struggling bon-fire...Hope good times are in store this time around too... (typically, if you think this aloud, the trip gets jinxed...lets see)...

Temporary teetotaler?

2006-12-08T13:17:00.000-08:00

It is tough to pull it off when you are in the vicinity of a bar called 'Whiskey Dicks'!. That too after a 5 hour drive through clogged roads. (a fast 5 hour journey on an empty road is less tiresome than a 5 hour journey inhibited by traffic, even if you're just a passenger..wonder why...anyways thats besides the point). I had gone to Lake Tahoe with Jai(my bro-in-law) a couple of weekends back. The journey, longer than expected...the destination, colder than expected...i was awfully underclothed in the bottoms dept. In any case we decided to go to a bar. I had recently decided be a teetotaler until April, to meet some agenda of mine. Primarily because i smoke whenever i drink and my resolve to not smoke may not hold water after a couple of rounds of water. So i thought i'll let Jai drink and i would have lemonade or some such inconsequential fluid, not fully beleiving it.

So we went to 'Whiskey dicks'. A small poster announced "Tip, you bastard!". Another more conspicuous one politely requested "Help our bartenders get ugly people laid". Now, if you enter a place like this, and you like the idea of drinking, the drinkers' rule book says you ought not to come out without a drink or two. So i readily agreed when Jai suggested Beer. There was this nerdy guy in the bar who had a Rubic's cube and solved it under a minute for you if you bought him a shot. He was rather good at it...and in the slight tipsy state i felt sorry for him...not sure why...maybe because i thought some one as smart as that should be able to buy his own drink, shouldn't he? But then, he pawns what he knows for a drink, just the way i pawn what i know for a monthly pay cheque. Now that the drink's effect has long worn off i am less sorry for him. Somewhere along the way we saw two women kissing. Thats a first. Jai went 'That was hot man!'. I continued to concentrate on the beer. For me, to be turned on, if i am not directly involved in the act, the act has to be 2-dimensional and i should be alone. I am a pile of contradictions in this department (i hope everyone is), so lets leave it at it. After the drink, we went to an Italian restaurant close by. As we entered, a mom-daughter pair was leaving with the daughter telling her mom "Mom, you're drunk...walk carefully...you shouldn't be drinking so much at 80". For some reason, that had a vague feel good factor.

Back in chennai and heading to Bangalore. Meeting a bunch of seasoned glass holders in bangalore tonight. When we enter a bar tonight, i'll tell myself that i'll drink a lemonade or some such inconsequential fluid...

Postscript: Over the weekend in Bangalore, my resolve to not drink drowned in Beer, Margarita, Vodka and Baang and went up in tobacco smoke (To my defence, 5 cigarettes only).

How stuff doesn't work.

2006-11-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

When you are two timing you are faithful to neither. In work. And in relationships (the non-platonic kind). I am currently in such a predicament, at work. The advantage here is that one can always be an alibi for the other, and you can cool off a little, writing a post at the start of a work day. The downside is, almost always, you're so torn between two opposing forces of deeds to be done, that you freeze and end up doing neither.

Of late, i find the idea of even one timing (now, not work) pretty exerting. Sometimes i feel that having a companion, physical intimacy etc are obscenely overrated. It'll be good to have someone available, a phone call away, a bus ride away, or a loud shout away. Just to keep you from dying of solitude or repressed sexuality. But then, after talking the talk, or doing the deed, or both, the two people have to return back to their respective real lives. There should be no encroachment of personal space beyond that. There shouldnt be a need for realignment or reprioritisation of what you want to do with your life, to accomodate someone else. Once you start doing that, resentment will start setting in. Sooner or later, your urge to live life the way you want to, will overweigh the desire to continue to be with whoever you are with, and the relationship will start dying a slow silent death in the background (or sometimes a noisy quarrelsome death in the foreground). And there is no way that two people will have the same wants out of life. Peope are pretty much like their fingerprints. Unique.

A road taken...

2006-11-11T20:56:00.000-08:00

I was at crossroads for a while, till a while ago. I either had to sit in the same place i've been sitting for the past couple of years, and try a kind of work i have not tried before, and have been meaning to try for a while. Something that would involve dressing up well, carrying yourself properly, talking a lot, being nice and phony to people over the phone(cos they'll mostly be customers), and some more stuff that have been foreign to me. Or, i would have to move to a different place, a different organization (my customer for the past couple of years), and do the same kindof work i've been doing since i finished college. Decided on the latter. All big decisions take only a couple of minutes, i guess. Just that i took 3 weeks to spend those two minutes on thinking about it. If i didnt take the latter i would be leaving something half baked, unfinished. For good or bad, did not have the heart to not stick around till that piece is taken to completion. Stick around till we know that the product'll bring in rotten tomatoes or revenue.

This is probably insignificant in the grander scheme of things. At some point, when i was working late night and my sis had called up, she said, 'Ten years down the line, you would not look back and say, 'Yes I fixed that bug ten years ago!''. I shut down after the call and went to bed. I guess, like so many others, i suffer from a borderline syndrome. Being good at work, the idea of a shipped product for which i've done my part etc, excite me nearly as much as a hike in the himalayas. One without the other will proabably be meaningless...

About to crash...

2006-10-29T18:53:00.000-08:00

A beer. A good dinner. A glass of wine (am not a wine fan..just that it has alcohol and hence is functional). A pretty decent movie. And the company of a couple of people you like hanging out with. At the end of it, you are supposed to feel good about a well spent saturday and put yourself to sleep feeling good about life in general. Only problem is, i cant go to sleep unless the clock says 2 am. So i am generally sitting, thinking/typing inane stuff. I realize that the high point of the day was when i made 802.1x work with EAP_TLS. I am not going to explain what that means. Over time i guess i've become a workaholic. My sis says i'd get withdrawal symptoms if i quit this line of work and try something else and i am beginning to wonder if she is right(one life and a single line ofwork sounds so limiting!).

Came to the bay area around a month back on a short trip..and am just about beginning to miss the 'thiruvanmiyur beach' and Satyam Theatres and the raw chennai heat, in that order...

This trip has had some weird eye-openers. Keeping your room neat and washing clothes are not bad uncool acts. It has a cathartic effect on the clothes, room and you. I hate to admit it though. These acts shall be reassessed and dropped if i realize that its just aflash in the pan.

And I am kindof convinced that life should be a seriesof monogamous relationships..for some it may be strong enough to last a lifetime..good for them...but we should do away with the paper work of marriage, divorce, alimony and other such stuff...there shouldnt be an external body policing how a bunch of ppl go abt their lives..

An aside. 'That 70's show' rocks...it has knocked off everyother tv show on my favourites' list...or i am so starved and this is the only half-decent meal i got and i am finding it much better than it actually is...Dona (the tall one with weird parents) is my pickof the characters...and at some level i wonder if it is because she reminds me of someone i dont mind being reminded of...

Seven year itch

2006-09-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

A lil drunk. Again. Seven years gone since i started work. Dint notice the date when it passed. (Aug 16th). Realized it a lil later. Not that it matters. Making serious plans to take a break. Atleast for 3 to 6 months. From Jan or April next year. Will go to Uttarkashi, Varanasi, some parts of NE India and a few sanctuaries i want to go to. Want to do a few things before i hit 30. Dont trust my back to be good enuf to do the things i want to do beyond a certain age. The sooner i do those stuff, the better. If i dont get such a long vacation i'll quit.

Drank with Binu at good old Casablanca. Booze trips with him have reduced after his marriage. He keeps telling me good things about being married and eggs me on to do something about my singularity. I might grow to become this 40 year old morose, irritable, single guy (well, i dont think life wud come to that, but the 'single' part might come true). But i cant bring myself to seek company in unnatural ways just to avoid regrets i might have in a hypothetical future. For now it is just work, books, booze and the faithful beach in my backyard.

That perfect combination of bits...

2006-08-14T22:53:00.000-07:00

In Sanjay's (a collegue) words, thats what most people in my industry are working towards. A cool thought. I write code for a living. It is compiled, linked and blah-blahed and what eventually comes out is a series of bits which represent instructions or data. A bunch of testers try and break it, report problems, and i fix them, by indirectly modifying that bit pattern a little. In essence, we are all working towards that perfect combination of bits.
In one of the many time-pass office discussions, we ended up wondering if we shud try and write buggy code to start with(which we do anyways) and thereon automate the modification of the bit-pattern iteratively, load it on the hardware and have automated regression scripts validate it till we hit upon that perfect combination. The assumption here is that the starting bit-pattern is somewhere in the vicinity of the ideal bit-pattern and we would converge in finite time. Well, once the coffee got consumed we got back to work. But i liked the idea, and might want to try it on a simple problem sometime. And Sanjay continues to deserve the name we gave him (Sanjay Mokkasamy....Mokka vaguely means the act of talking incessantly about random things).

Tea, Cigarettes and a series of conversations

2006-06-21T12:08:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to leave for Peru from Mumbai on a specific day a few weeks back. Eventually went three days later than scheduled. I was travelling with my brother-in-law's sister (We had a tough time explaining what we were to each other, to a random set of people. Eventually Kripa(thats my bil's sis' name) settled for co-brother. Neither of us knew if that was right, but that was the briefest thing she could come up with!!). Anyways, we had some trouble with emigration and were holed out in Mumbai for three days. We stayed in the TIFR[Tata Institute of Fundamental Research] hostel (Kripa had friends there). I kindof fell in love with the place and was contemplating applying for a PhD there. With time, reason(and money) prevailed and i wudnt think of giving up my job for something related and less paying (it is still ok to leave it all for something tangential, if you want to that is).

Met a few amazing people there (Sanjeev, his wife Amritha - these two were our official hosts; and Gautham - i stayed in his room). I kindof like the scientific community. The few people i met were extremely broadminded and reasonable and didnt live inside pseudo-boundaries. I kindof found it refreshing and different and relateable. These 3 would probably rank among the laziest days in my life. All i did was smoke, drink (tea/alcohol), talk, eat, sleep, read, in varying orders for three days, besides a couple of runs relating to our emigration. I did have to live through some major physics discussions about why two bacteria cant manage to walk in parallell for too long because of the nature of their flagellar motion and other heavier stuff which went above of my head (Gautham is a Physics PhD, Kripa and Sanjeev are in the 6th year of the PhD effort in smething related to Theoritical Physics). It still felt good to be witness to animated discussions of things i didnt totally understand (confession - i could not comprehend Resnick&Halliday in 11th standard and realized i wasnt IIT material, could not comprehend Milman&Halkeas in Engineering and had to settle for Gaur&Gupta and a mere pass in Engineering physics).

When we left mumbai, i was kindof thankful for the emigration delay and the brief stay in TIFR.

We did manage to go to Peru, catch up wth Sis, bil and his parents, and do the Inca trail to Maachu Picchu. Was good fun, and a good break from a fairly mad work schedule i had subjected myself to. Except that instead of getting recharged, my batteries are all discharged:), gotta pull up my socks and get back to proper work.

Will post some pics from the trip sometime...

The Mosquito Knows

2006-04-25T07:05:00.000-07:00

This gives some perspective...Yea, there are no mosquito doctors to whom mosquitoes take their sick loved mosquitoes or themselves to get treated...they need not save up for such eventualities. If a mosquito wants to go to Delhi or see the Himalayas or go to Peru, it just has to figure out who is going where and perch itself discreetly on their shoulders...the ride is free...Nevertheless, this gives some perspective...a poem from 'The wondering Minstrels'...

"The Mosquito Knows"

The mosquito knows full well, small as he is
he's a beast of prey.
But after all
he only takes his bellyful,
he doesn't put my blood in the bank.

-- D. H. Lawrence

Something else...

2006-03-20T12:06:00.000-08:00

You always want to do something else....when you are in school you look enviously at the independence college goers enjoy...you think your dad is so lucky, he need not go to school...When you are in college you look back fondly at your days at school...you long for the friends lost until their memories fade away and new ones take their place...You look at your seniors landing jobs and think "20k per month; life cant be bad then"...Then you start working...A few weeks into work you look back at college like it happened ages ago...you wish engineering had been a 5 year course...As the years roll by, work ceases to interest you as much as it did in the beginning (for some this happens much more quickly, some never reach a stage where their work fascinates them). You wish you'd rather be on a ship headed to the Arctic, or take pictures of Nilgiri Langurs hanging off trees in the forests of Kerala, or just go off and live in a shack by the beach in Goa, swimming whenever you want, just laying back drinking beer and reading whenever you want. You prepare yourself for such an eventuality...you do random courses which you think will give you credibility when you set out to do something besides technology. But you dont take the plunge...You wait.. You build a safety net beneath you...You think you need multiple zeros in your bank account before you can experiment. You put life on hold. Time passes by. Real fast. You tell yourself, "Next year, i'll definetely take a sabbatical and try a different line of work." And the "next years" pass by.

But this time, 'next year' is going to be 'the' year. You know technology is your bread and butter. Not just that, there were times, rather years, when work was the single most important thing in life, not out of necassity, but out of choice and inclination. Its been nearly 7 years now. You ought to go out, take a look at other things, play out some other pages in life, and come back with the kindof zeal you had a few years back...or, maybe, discover something else that excites you more...and do that until that loses its charm (yea, with time, everything loses its charm, and you cant be non-cynical even when you are discussing a fantastic virtual future for yourself).

And late next year you may come back and read this while uploading pictures of the elusive big cats in Perambikulam wildlife sanctuary, or read it with a wry, sad smile on your face, from your office, after having succumbed to a really bright carrot that offered itself as a virtual bait to strengthen the 'all-too-important' safety net beneath you.

A drinking song

2006-03-11T08:13:00.000-08:00

A poem i got from "The wondering minstrels" (http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/), and
liked. Its a subscription thing, and at times you could get some amazing poems. I can only read
poems (must admit quite a few of the eclectic ones go over my head), would never try writing
non-prose...

"A Drinking Song"

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

-- Willam Butler Yeats

Drunken post...again...

2006-02-17T10:33:00.000-08:00

I entered 'diesel'. That's a pub in chennai. I normally dont go to pubs. I hate loud music. I thought
"What shit?"...You can't have a conversation. It is too loud. You can't see the people you are with.
It is too dark. A collegue had come down from mumbai. The last time i went out with that person and
a few others, it was fun. So, was kindf ok to go again though i wud've preferred to go to restaurant that
serves booze, to a pub. Anyways, a few beers down, and a shot down(of something, i dont remember
it's name, was raw alcohol with some icecream kindof thing on top), the music started playing in my
head. I was sitting and dancing at the same time. It was fun. I still prefer it to be quiet...that no noise
disturb me from the peace of a 'high', i could kindof relate a lil more to why ppl go to noisy places
to have a drink.
Am headed to the marina beach...a friend from college is waiting outside work...i hope i am not
apprehended for being a drunken passenger(u can never be sure of the rules)...
And i realize that i have this inexorable pull towards writing some shit whenever i am drunk...

Lonely planet??...

2006-02-01T08:04:00.000-08:00

A part of a particular song has been constantly ringing in my head for over a week now..

it is from a soon-to-be-released tamil movie 'Pudhupaettai'... (a Selvaraghavan/Dhanush/

Yuvan Shankar Raja combo)...

"iruttinilae nee nadakkayilae un nizhalum unnai vittu vilagividum,

nee mattum thaan indha ulaginila unakku thunai ena vilangividum.

theeyoadu pogum varaiyil,

theeraadhu indha thanimai..."

which translates to

"when you are walking in the dark, even your shadow deserts you,

you'd realize you are your only companion in this world.

until you reduce to ashes,

this solitude would not end..."

And at many levels, this made a lot of sense...

And then i went to my sister's picture uploads in flickr...she had an album called 'Takes two

to tango' with a random set of twosomy pictures (like a pair of feet, she and her husband, she

and me, she and her dog etc)...for the album's description, she had a Ray Charles song...

"You can get very old by yourself
Catch a fish or a cold by yourself
Dig a ditch or strike it rich
all by yourself
There are lots of things that
you can do alone
But it takes two to tango
Two to tango
Two to do the dance of love.

It Takes two, I say two
Darling it always takes two
Im with you

- Ray Charles."

And this made a lot of sense too:)....

Parallell realities...

2006-01-22T10:24:00.000-08:00

When someone spells out the same thoughts that you thought, it has an endearing effect. I've never felt the need to

sympathise with autistic kids or mentally underdeveloped people. They do not belong to the realm that we perceive as

real, normal and fully functional. They have their own realities. But then, we do not belong there. So we're even. At times, i even

envy them (but quickly reason out thinking their worlds would have problems too). Anu (Shabana Azmi) in a scene in '15 Park

avenue' questions our right to try and get these people back to our perceived reality. Meethi's (Konkona Sen) psychiatrist offers

a logical explanation for that, but logic is never convincing enough on such issues. That scene struck a chord, and after that i got into a state

where i could find nothing wrong with the movie (rightly, or not rightly, so). It was an intriguing movie...some strings were let loose, and

the incompleteness added to the beauty...well, it wasnt incomplete in the real sense...one person gets a closure and the rest begin

their search for something that doesnt exist...

quite a few in the theatre were laughing out for the wrong scenes...i cudnt relate to that...they wouldnt relate to my perception of the

movie...not that it matters...nor wat i think about them matters...parallell realities...subjective....

Happy? New year

2006-01-07T04:00:00.000-08:00

It is a little late in the day. It is all manufactured anyways, so whats the big deal...for whatever it is worth

new year wishes to anyone who drops by...

New year eves were so much fun back in Trichy, when i was a school kid...Dad was this social butterfly...

some 7-8 neighbouring families would get together at my home (ofcourse i chipped in for the PR work, but Dad

was the prime mover)...there were quite a few kids who were kindof peers, and we managed to have some real

good fun.

Back then festivals were fun as well...one of the first things i used to do every Jan was to check how

far away Diwali was. During Diwali, we had this undeclared contest in our street for bursting the 1st cracker of the day.

Almost every time, it was won buy this school senior of mine called Jayashree, who lived in the last house in our street.

Her standard cracker-time was 2:30 am...cant beat that. I never made a real effort to win it, but even i used to be up by

3:30 or so. During the day, everyone went around everyone else's houses eating free sweets (we had to offer sthing different,

dad was an out-of-the box thinker..so we would give visiters salted-boiled peanuts...and that would be such a relief for the

sweet-weary tongues).

And Pongal (Shankranthi) meant getting up early to walk the streets of Bhelpur (the colony where i lived) to have a look at the

rangolis (entries for Bhelpur's rangoli contest, we never won it). There would be this colony-wide competetions. Mom used to

sing (and some of use used to cheer for her, she was good, and won it a couple of times)...Dad used to sing too (and i would

be embarassed...he wasnt particularly good, but was a good sport)...and at times Sis used to sing too (she was good). I was

never anything more than an onlooker, except the one time when i came 2nd in the musical chairs contest:)...

Coming back to now...festivals have ceased to matter...sometimes it is good to be part of a whole, to celebrate when everyone

else celebrates, and not question it or reason it out...except that i cant get myself to do it...at times i envy people who have

managed to retain the idea of festivals and celebrations...ppl who, on Diwali day, get up early, bathe, wear new clothes, and pray

and eat together. I am not sure if i can ever be that again.

It is not just about festivals. As a kid, i used to go to this temple in our colony daily, and it felt good. Even in college i used to

go to our college-temple almost daily. Now, i think of God as man's creation, as a replica of some kindof external conscience. So

prayer and God have ceased to appeal to me. I dont find it reasonable to go to a temple or pray or do anything that involves delegating

your problem to someone besides yourself. This is surely the right way to live, but this has taken away a pseudo-crutch that i could've

used at times.

Like that guy in 'Matrix' says, sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

Sadly, the path from ignorance to realization is one-way.

Afloat

2005-12-23T11:52:00.000-08:00

Haywards 5000 is good...reallly good...shit i'm drinkin so frequently...it is a humungus effort to write gramatically right sentences when u're drunk...

and it is a little more difficult to use the right spellings....but if u decide to write a gramatically right post with correct spellings and all that, it is

still possible(i am proof, but will check it trrow if my claim is worth it, i must have pressed backspace a million times)...

But i fail to understand how people get away with crappy stuff like rape and murder claiming they were drunk...murder is atleast ok...but i think your

moral sense of what is right and wrong will be intact even when u're drunk...if someone can rape when he is drunk, he cud also rape when he is sober...

The judiciary shudnt care whether a subject was drunk or not when he commited the said crime..

Anyways, am chatting with someone i've felt closest with, and the person is away fixing a crash...so thot i'll make an inane post...will come

back here t'rrow and knock it off it doesnt make sense...but haywards 5000 is really good and am really high...am glad my office prvides shelter and

mattresses for drunks...

Bliss, extended?

2005-11-24T11:39:00.000-08:00

Have you heard music that stirs your soul, plucks at your heart-strings, and before you can grasp what it is, it fleets away. The way

it comes in the background in some movies, beautiful and fleeting, and leaves you yearning for more. The music that flows in 'Sarfarosh'

whenever they show Naseeruddin Shah doing 'rihaaz' in his 'pushthaini' mahal or the one that flows in 'Devdas' as Madhuri prepares to dance

or the pieces scattered around 'Utsav' or the brief piece of tamil song that plays in 'Kaadhal kavidhai' when Prashanth enters a music shop

in England. All these have a magical quality...

I am just back from a Shubha Mudgal concert (part of 'The Hindu' NovemberFest music festival). I first knew that she existed when i saw the

video of 'Ab ke saawan'...and i bought the cassette.When i heard the album, i fell in love with her voice (and more with her song

'Bhai re, rishthon ki dagar hai mushkil'). Today's was a concert of 'Khayal', 'Thumri' and 'Dadra' (semi-classical styles, google helped me

know this). I dont know the next thing about Hindustani music, just went cos i like her voice. When the concert started, the music sounded

like those magical fleeting sounds i had mentioned earlier. Except that they dint go away. To start with, it felt surreal and i could've levitated

if i wanted to. This was what i had always wanted. When those movies used to replace heavenly music with human chatter to take the story

forward, i used to curse the director and wished the music played for ever.But here, as the music persisted, it changed from this magical

soul-stirring music to just good music and an impeccable rendition from a perfecionist. I enjoyed the concert all the same.

I guess the impact that those pieces of music i talked about earlier have, have as much to with their beauty as they have,

with their brevity. Bliss cannot be extended, and if you try to, it ceases to remain bliss, it would be just lazy happiness or

sometimes, boredom. Extremely beautiful music is brief, and so is orgasm and so are flight take-offs, and Tequila shots are small.

It is probably the pattern of the world, and it feels right too.

Sunshine in my life

2005-11-04T09:23:00.000-08:00

Right now, that would be Table tennis (ping-pong). I had learnt this game formally as a school kid and used to play in the competitive circuit till college happened (strangely, i started playing at the insistence of my sister cos her friend played it and he was kindof a school hero; she never accepts it though). Stopped playing somewhere along the way...

I had gone to watch the Tamilnadu state championships last year...met some old friends that i had played alongside as a junior...they were playing in the Men's category and were working for the government (Postals/LIC/Agriculture dept and the like)...they had all taken up TT as their profession...i was thrilled to see all those people after such a long time...and was happy to see some high quality games...he proceedings excited me enough to think about getting back in the circuit...Chennai is a very-high-competition zone for TT (Bengal and TN can stake claims for being the TT capital of India, other states are way behind)...i could at-best hope for a 2nd or 3rd round entry (an opening
round exit is more like it:)...but things are different now...i would not be crying after losing a round like i did as a junior...i would not be too tensed during a match...and the entry fee would not matter much...

I went to this club called YMIA-Mylapore and told them that i wanted to practice there regularly...one of the guys in the club politely told me that they would not be able to accomodate me. To be taken in there u shud either be under 5 yrs of age or should be a currently ranked player in some state.(i had played a senior nationals for pondicherry some 8 yrs before...but then that was a long time ago and i knew i wud be rusty). But that guy was decent enough to refer me to a club close to where i live. I am glad he did that...thats where i play these days, with a bunch of
school kids...it is housed in a school called V.V.V in beasant nagar...and it boasts of a number of ranked players in the junior categories (the top one being the TN Junior girls' No:1 called Niveditha...she is a 11th standard kid, and she beats me hands down..)...It is a lot of fun...to play with a bunch of kids for whom TT is the most important thing in life, is nice...i can totally relate to that feeling...i've been there...beyond a point i never knew vacations...summer vacations meant Intensive TT coaching camps...I dint achieve much though...i was in Trichy, and to be something
in TT in TamilNadu, u got to be in Chennai (thats my excuse:)...but travelled a lot and made decent money (for a school sudent, any money is good money:)...

Anyways thats that...work prevents me from playing the ranking tournaments regularly...i still manage to play some matches once in a while and surprise myself(and a lot of others:) by winning some...it is such a nice feeling to win competitive games...i had nearly forgotten it...it is still extremely rare for me(i won only 2 good matches in the past year), but it is atleast not non-existant, and i give myself a chance to pull it off once in a while...

Diwali, orphanages, and acts of 'charity'

2005-10-26T12:06:00.000-07:00

If i was an orphaned kid living in an orphanage, and if a group of strangers decide to celebrate Diwali with me(and the other inmates), i'll start wondering "What do they think we are? A distraction available once a year to make people feel good about themselves?". But i am not in that kid's shoes, and cant begin to imagine his mindset.

Folks from my company celebrated Diwali last evening with the kids of a home for orphaned and handicapped children. I did not go because such acts look like sacrilege to me. I call it sacrilege because it is a one-evening-stand, an indulgence whose motive needs some more soul searching. The recipe for the kids' 'evening of joy' was crackers, chocolates and games. In the din of the ensuing Diwali our folks will forget the kids, the kids will forget our folks. Life will go on.

I do beleive in the idea of taking some social responsibilities. It is not a level playing field to start with. Some are lucky to have parents who think, educating their kid is important. (besides, that kid was plainly lucky to just have parents around to fend for it when it was a child). Some are'nt. There are organisations that make an honest attempt to show such kids a way. The idea of able people helping out these organisations monetarily and/or otherwise, to
carry on their jobs, appeals to me. I am not romantic enough to think that if a penniless, parentless kid is relentless enough, it would go from the streets to the banks without help. Such cases may exist, but that cannot be an excuse to shy away from what we could possibly do. But there is something about the idea of a bunch of strangers spending an evening with orphaned or handicapped children that does not ring right.

I might be totally wrong here. Folks from my company say that it was nice to see those kids laugh and play and burst crackers and do such rosy things. Such intermittent sun shines(?) in those kids' life is probably good for them. I dont know. I fail to be convinced though.

Casablanca

2005-10-23T11:30:00.000-07:00

I am a little tipsy. And no, i am not talking about the Moroccan city. 'Casablanca' is this nice

restaurant close to where i work. It has this noisy pub (called Zanzibar) attached, that i dont enter. But the

restaurant is nice. Good food, not-so-loud music, and comfortable chairs..yes, comfortable chairs...and well Kingfisher

tastes the same everywhere.

They say, alcohol lets u be your natural uninhibited self. Going by that, i am a happy guy. Cos i smile a lot when i am

drunk...and i keep laughing out aloud when i am very drunk (today i was just smiling..actually, i am still smiling:). I actually

think ppl get very conscious when they are drunk, not abt what ppl think about them, but genlly about wat they do...walking back

to work, i was keeping track of whether my right foot was forward or left...now, you dont do that when you are sober, do you?

If this post sounds incoherent, i blame it on the alcohol...aadaab...

Muted

2005-10-18T22:42:00.000-07:00

I think i've run out of conversation. These days, when i meet/talk to people, i simply wait for them to come up with something for me to respond to. If

they dont say anything, an awkward silence follows. At times i resort to some polite conversation and keep searching for a way to end

it and flee. The only exceptions are a few really close friends with whom there is no need to 'think' of what to say next, there's so much common

ground available. And ofcourse, there are the group-timepass-talk sessions which are fairly effortless. Its weird cos i used to be fairly garrulous and an

active 'company' seeker.

I think 60 is a very high value for human lifespan. 30 is more like it. Not too short. Not long enough to run out of things to say. But then, we should hit

puberty at 4, have an active partner from 8. Better sense should prevail at around 20, and you separate and spend the last 10 years as a gypsy, and

die an anonymous death in a beautiful place, with your desire to continue living still intact(Ofcourse, there will be serious academices/scientists who

invent, advance technology, for the betterment of people like me). I think that is important..to die when you still want to live. Everything has a shelf-life...

relationships, love, desire for existence, life. Being separated from something/someone when you still want to hold on to it/him/her gives it a profoundness

you can treasure.

Back to reality, and i keep away from prospective friends and phony conversations.

Kolkota eludes..

2005-10-08T04:06:00.000-07:00

Intended to be in Kolkota this 'dusehra'. Had bought a kolkota road-map and a travel guide for that. Planned it too late, travel costs went beyond budget, so had to drop it. Ended up spending sizeably on maps, travel guides and the like (a generous part of it going to lonely planet - india guide). And am just sitting in chennai, in my room, typing this...anyways, would be going to Muliyangiri sometime this month...

Had been too busy to blog till a week ago...My work requires me to either move forward in full-throttle or turn my engine off and cruise along...am in the second mode now...

And yea, finally started posting in my travel-blog (http://jerknees.blogspot.com )...

Batch of '71..photos from the past

2005-09-05T13:18:00.000-07:00

There were these photos that were sent to my school alumni mailing group. A bunch of b/w photos of folks from the batch

of 1971...sent by one of that batch's guys. Some faces had names...some were left blank...it felt kindof surreal to look at

those pics and at my school (the school in question is called RSK Higher Secondary school, Trichy).I had this urge to go

home and pick up my class photos and have one long look at each of them (and probably check how many faces i manage

to map to names). Its been 10 years since i finished high school, and it feels spooky to think of reaching a stage when it

would be 34 years beyond high school.

One of the photos carried a pic of one Hemalatha Thyagarajan(HT). She went on to become a Math prof at REC trichy. She was

called HyperTension(HT) in REC cos of her temper. In 11th grade i was attending her IIT Math classes, and was ousted from her

class. (She produces a few IITs every year, she used to, not sure if she still teaches. For a small town like Trichy, that is

something. She commanded a lotof respect from our school's intelligentia - deservedly so).She bluntly asked me to leave the class

and not to come back (i had flunked one of her tests real badly). She thought i was not IIT material and thought aloud(and rightly so).

I kindof dealt with it quite ok i guess...i gave up on the idea and started playing Table tennis with ruthless abandon...and then the rest

of my life until this point happened (which had very little to do with TT or IIT)...

Anyways, those photos brought back some bitter-sweet memories...and kindof makes me want to get back in touch with some school

buddies who were close pals back then (some, witnesses of the 'ouster' act!)...meanwhile there is code to be written, deliveries to be made,

and a job to be kept...lets see how long this thought stays and how far i go with the idea...

mads, if u're reading this, thanx for passing those photos along..

Rechristened

2005-09-04T03:44:00.000-07:00

I never really liked the earlier name ('To be continued'). For one, it wud've become factually wrong at a later point...and like a friend who commented somewhere on this blog, 'what am i, a soap opera?!!'...Anyways, 'Enroute cemetery' is pretty much an absolute (well, almost, i mean unless i perish in an avalanche or a landslide, i'd most probably head to a crematorium, not a cemetery). But I kindof relate more to the concept of burying the dead. At times you'd want to run away and seek refuge in a place, a physical entity, which is strongly symbolic and representative of a dear one who has gone away...at times you'd want something more than just memory to hold on to...
Now, why am i talking about death, its imminence and (the aftermath?). I dont know. I never discuss such things when i am sober, but then, exceptions are common. 'Tuesdays with Morrie' says 'Be open to discuss death, reconcile with the concept of death and be prepared' or sthing to the effect. (am not particularly fond of that book, it was too didactic and sappy for my taste, but then parts of it were hard-hitting and thought-provoking). Anyways, thought i'd have a title that is definetive about where i am headed. Like someone said, 'In the long run we are all dead'.

On my way..

2005-08-25T16:23:00.000-07:00

Four stamp-size photos, a hastily filled application, a search operation(to get my hands at my degree/marksheets etc), two

cheque leaves and a 5km bike ride later, Mr. Mariappan of Southern college (Mysore univ, contact centre) had one look

at the stack i gave him and said "This is spot admission, you'll get your admit-card in 10 days".

While this is, in every way, unlike spotting your registration number on JEE results published (pretty much anyone with a degree

and 15k on him will be admitted!), i did allow myself to let out a silent 'yippie':).

Finally finally...

2005-08-17T10:51:00.000-07:00

I've been toying with the idea of studying something related to earth sciences like geography/geology for quite a while. The idea is this...4 yrs down the line i should be
in a position to leave this indusry and go to the edges of the world on expeditions on work!!...Tall ask, i know...but things ought to start somewhere (a liberal dose of expedition-watching on 'Adventure one', and confounded expressions on my face when i go on treks with learned guys who talk about the flora and fauna around the trail when i am thinking 'this grass is so green and that flower is pretty', might've triggered this).

Anyways, went to the Mysore univ distance education study centre today...wasnt a good outing...was not eligible to apply for geography or geology (both needed corresponding bachelors' degrees). The only thing i could apply for (closest related to wat i want to do) was Geoinformatics. The syllubus included interestng words like Digital cartography, Mapping, photogrammetry, Remote sensing and the like....so just went ahead and bought the application...would be applying this week (there's no test or anything...i dont think they reject applications for distance education, considering that they charge 15k per annum - i paid 3k per annum for my engineering degree!!)...

Am looking forward to being in a classroom, and having things like lab-exercises after a 6 year gap. This may not take me to the Arctic, but might get me closer to being on the crew of 'A1's' India diaries!!...

The boy who asked for more

2005-08-15T00:01:00.000-07:00

This was the title of a non-detail lesson we had in English (in 6th grade i think). It was an excerpt from 'Oliver twist', about the part where Oliver asks for more porridge.

I dont know why i had to think of this. Just that i created two more blogs...
Parallell worlds - A record of my favourite movies, books and offerings from the tube. I'll try and maintain its currency as much as possible.
Foot prints - My travel diary.

I am realizing that blogging is a time killer. I used to play a lot of carroms in the week days and do lotsof work in the weekend. Now, i play a lot of carroms in the weekdays and read/write blogs during the weekend. This is not going to work. Got to do some damage control...

Rain rain come again

2005-08-14T23:29:00.000-07:00

Chennai received showers yesterday...and the sun is reluctant to come out today as well.
Went off to the beach the moment it started raining...and swam for more than an hour...sea was rough, water was cold, and it was raining, that is a near perfect setting for a swim(for me). One of the guys in the beach wanted to join me...i was a little hesitant...cos, while i know enough swimming to save myself even if the sea gets mighty rough (that's what i'd keep thinking till i perish some day in the seas:), i was not too sure if i can pull an adult along if things go wrong. Anyways there are no rules, he tagged along..i warned him that the sea was rougher than normal...thankfully there were lotsof shallow spots...after going a little inside, fear (and sense) got the better of him and he wanted to head back...getting back to the shore is normally the much tougher part, swimming in is fairly simple. Sea, like women, draws people in quite easily, the difficult part is to get back to where you started, unscathed and intact!!..After some drama, he did make it to the shore. (not drama really, u just need to get used to the fact that the big waves will get the better of you often, and u just need to give in, not panic, and you'd resurface).
He said he'd join me next weekend as well. Lets sea...

Moovees

2005-08-12T11:16:00.000-07:00

A list of movies that i thoroughly enjoyed, or atleast remember having enjoyed...
i keep updating this list whenever i see a good movie or whenever the names of amazing movies
seen in the past pop up in my mind...

1. Scent of a woman (Al Pacino, Chris O Donell)
2. As good as it gets (Jack Nicholson, Helen Hunt)
3. Six degrees of separation (Will Smith)
4. Remains of the day (Anthony Hopkins)
5. Dead poets' society (Robin Williams)
6. Gia (Angelina Jolie)
7. Before sunrise (Ethan Hawke, Julie Delpy)
8. Reality bites (Ethan Hawke, Winona Ryder)
9. Girl interrupted (Winona Ryder, Angelina Jolie)
10. Gattacca (Ethan Hawke, Uma Thurman)
11.Legends of the fall (Anthony hopkins, Bradd Pitt, Aidan Quinn, Julia Ormand)
12. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind (Jim Carey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst)
13. The truman show (Jim Carey)
14. Little women (Susan sarandon, Winona ryder)
15. Ghost world.
16. When harry met sally (Meg ryan, Billy crystal)
17. Vanilla sky (Tom Cruise, Penelope Cruz, Camerone diaz, Curt Russel)
18. Chocolat (Johnny Depp)
19. Life is beautiful (Roberto Benigni)
20. Indecent proposal (Demi Moore)
21. At first sight (Val Kilmer)
22. Life of David Gail. (Kevin Spacey, Kate Winslet)
23. Pay it forward. (Kevin Spacey, Helen hunt)
24. The Shawshunk redemption. (Morgan Freeman)
25.. The negotiator. (Kevin Spacey, Samuel Jackson)
26. A few good men. (Tom Cruise, Demi Moore, Kevin Bacon)
27. Top gun. (Tom Cruise, ValKilmer)
28. Enemy at the gates (Jude Law, Ed Harris, Rachel Weisz)
29. The perfect storm. (George Clooney)
30. This boy's Life (Leonardo Decaprio - as a kid).
31. Meet Joe Black (Anthony Hopkins, Brad Pitt).
32. Fools rush in (Mathew Perry, Salma Hayek)
33. Vertical limit. (Chris O Donell) (set in K2, one of the most notorious mountains in the world)
34. Blue crush. (an amazing surf video at the least!)
35. Cocktail (Tom Cruise)
36. Troy (Brad Pitt)
37. The Lion King.
38. Bug's life.
39. One fine day (George clooney, Michelle pfeiffer)
40. Bend it like Beckham.
41. Jerry Mcguire (Tom Cruise, Renee Zelweger, Cuba Gooding Jr)
42. Notting hill (Hu Grant, Julia Roberts)
43. The Last Castle (James Gondolfini, Robert Redford)
44. Sweet home Alabama (Reese Witherspoon).
45. The castaway (Tom Hanks, Helen Hunt).
46. E.T (Drew Barrymore - as kid).
47. Chicago (Richard Gere, Renee Zelwegar, Catherene Zeta Jones)
48. Mystic river (Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Kevin Bacon).
49. Breaking up (Russell Crowe, Salma Hayek)
50. The cider house rules (Toby Mcguire)
51. Joan of Arc
52. Music from another room (Jude Law, Gretchen Mol)
53. Talented Mr.Ripley (Matt Daemon)
54. Philadelphia (Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington)
55. Proof of life (Russel Crowe, Meg Ryan)
56. Anna and the King (Chow Yun Fat, Jodie Foster)
57. Rainman (Tom Cruise, Dustin Hoffman)
58. Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks)
59. Avalon (Aidan Quinn, Elizabeth Perkins)
60. Before Sunset (Ethan Hawke, Julie Delpy)
61. Gone with the wind. (Clark Gable, Vivien Leigh)
62. Under the Tuscan Sun (Diane Lane)
63. Life stinks

Art and Anguish:

2005-08-07T00:11:00.000-07:00

Saw 'Salangai oli' today. I've seen it once as a kid, did'nt find it interesting then cos it did not have any action sequences! I kept saying it was a great movie back then just so that i was not left out.

Seeing it as a grown up was ofcourse an altogether different experience. It traces the life of an extremely gifted and passionate dancer-Balakrishnan(played brilliantly by 'Kamal Hasan'), who dreams of learning all indian dance forms and evolve a collaborativedance form. It is a story of unfulfilled love, shattered dreams, lofty ambitions broughtdown to earth and drowned in alcohol. It ends with Bala getting some solace. He passes on his art-baton to the daughter of the love of his life and seeks his redemption. Jayapradha as 'Madhavi', the love of 'Bala's' life and his redeemer, looked ethereal, and acted amazingly well.While there were certain aspects of the movie i could not relate to, it had me totally involved.

Now, in a movie with a similar setting, if Bala had achieved whatever he set out to achieve in Dance, and also found Madhavi's love, the movie would'nt have been half as moving, and no one would be talking about it 22 years after its release.

Anguish, pain, sadness and suffering offer themselves to art in a way happiness and fulfilment can never dream of. They are simply much more potent realms of expression. A happy story about simple simon cannot create the kindof impact that a 'Of human bondage' or a 'Golden gate' would. A painter born in a rich aristocratic family cannot generate the kindof curiosity and interest that a penniless painter, who painted a self-portrait with a ear cut off(Vincent Van Gogh), can.

I've tried to remain a happiness-seeking optimist most of my life (re-forged at some points, thanks to influences from 'Atlas shrugged', 'Fountain head' and 'We, the living'), but, to be honest, grief is a much stronger and more persistent emotion than happiness-which is sporadic and almost always fleeting. If you aggree with this, then this is probably why art-expressions tempered with anguish seep in more easily and impact people in a very telling way. I dont say that this is universal, but i guess this would apply to a sizeable populace.

Thanneer thanneer (Water water) - A Trek gone wrong..

2005-08-02T13:57:00.000-07:00

('Thanneer thanneer' is a tamil movie about a village that runs out of potable water and how it's people deal with it...some flee, some, like the female lead 'saritha' hang on and fight it out).

Now, moving into context, i had gone to this place called Varadapalayam falls(more popularly
called 'Tada falls') last weekend. This place is some 95 km from chennai, in the mountain ranges
enroute Kalahasthi. Had gone there with three of my collegues. For one of them(Binu), this was the 15th trip to this place. (His urge to find the source of this waterfall borders on being obsession!). I've gone there once before (again, with Binu). The objective of this trip was, as always, to trek to the source of the waterfalls.

Linga temple (our base-camp site) is a 9km trek from the closest motorable point. Doing this
after dark was fairly spooky. We were barked at by a bunch of dogs (i am no fan of dogs, domesticated or otherwise!).We saw a couple of snakes, one dead and harmles, another alive and deadly (it is called 'kattuvarean' in tamil, Krait in English, has rings in it's body and it is told that if it bites you, u die before counting it's rings, which are 21 in number). Every footprint looked like some animal's pug-mark. When u walk in a forest at 11 in the night, u suspect even the breeze!. We reached Linga temple at 11:30 pm. We pitched our tent right next to a clear stream. This forest is home to Bears, Leopards, Foxes and Wild Boars (ok, Wild Boars are really less dangerous than stray dogs). We heard enough sounds at night to suggest that the stream had a big visitor that night.(next time, we would'nt be camping next to a stream).

The objective of camping on Friday night was to start our trek to the source early on Saturday, but that was not to be. We got into the stream, started swimming and lazing around. Finally it took a water-snake (or Mani's imagination of it's existence in that stream) to drive us out. We finally set out at 11:30 am, with 12kg backpacks on our backs and 2 litres of water per head. We were sure of finding the source before running out of our 8 litres' supply (big mistake!).

We met the Linga-temple pujari. He told us we could never reach the source if we follow the stream (that much we knew already, it ends in a vertical unscaleable rock wall!).He suggested an alternative trail we could take to go where we wanted to go. We took that trail (if you can call an extremely rocky terrain with a 70 degree gradient for most parts a 'trail'!!). After a 3 hour toil and a few incidents we reached a man-made wall(which the pujari mentioned, so our spirits soared up a couple of inches). Binu named the trail upto this point the pujari-trail. (the landmarks he has named in Tada include Blue-lagoon, Needle falls, Green mile, Linga temple).
We climbed onto the other side of the wall. The other side was a fairly flat surface leading upto a sheer fall.

It was extremely windy up there.(it was so windy that one of the guys - Ashwani - refused to stand up!).It was fun to face the wind though. The only way to go from there was to turn left and vaguely head to the point where we thought the mountain spring could be. After going a few metres, we met an old man and a lady. He said the man-made wall was built by Britishers and that there was a fort on top. He also showed us a proper trail that started a few metres
from there, and said that the source was a 15 minutes' trek along that trail. He said that there was a pool kindof thing with neck-deep water. We got excited. In our minds we were already there. We started taking longer breaks and much longer sips from our dwindling supply of water. In one of the breaks we even discussed strategy for getting into the pool (cos the pujari had warned us against getting into the pool on top). I would go in first and swim the whole stretch and assess the depth at various points. One of us would always stand guard with a rope ready in case things should go awry.(So much for precaution!!)Also, the point where we met the old man was named 'old-man's point' and the trail 'old man's trail'.

Beyond this, the trek played out into a regular unguided trek. We kept following the trail. After a point there was no trail. We kept heading towards a deep gorge (that looked like the only likely place to house a water-body). And then we got lost, we walked in circles, and worst of all we did not have enough water to camp there for the night. Our plan was to reach the source, camp next to it on Saturday night and head back down on Sunday morning. Our backup plan,
should we not find the source on saturday, was to camp wherever we were at dusk and continue the search on Sunday morning. We had not planned for a scenario where we would run out of water. We needed water to cook and ofcourse to drink, and it was getting late, and we did not want to do that trail back after dark. We decided to turn back. We took a different trail
down, which was fairly more gradual and simple and ofcourse longer. After coming down, we had to do the 9 km walk again to reach the road. We were luckily offered a lift by a civil contractor there, to the nearest village(Varadapalayam). That leg was the most risky think i did that day, i was sitting on a thin steel rod on a tanker attached to a Tractor and was
clinging on to the rod (and to dear life) with my feet on another steel rod connecting the tractor to the tanker. At reachable distances, to my left and right were two huge tractor tyres!!This was a 25km ride, and was fun!!

This was an extremely strenuous, energy sapping trek, unsuccesful at that. I had an amazing time all the same. Next time we would be carrying 4 litres of water per head, and wouldnt indulge in premature celebrations, and maybe we'd actually reach the source! Lessons learnt...

Band broadens, a birthday passes by, and work stands still:

2005-07-24T05:17:00.000-07:00

The past few days i've actually been doing things rather than just thinking about doing things (well, not totally, but a couple of deeds is a couple of deeds!). Decided to give my home a technology upgrade.Finally gave up on a 56kbps dialup and got a broadband connection from Airtel. I am sure the '256 kbps' that the connection details' display boasts of is a hardcoded display that has nothing to do with actual speeds. Nevertheless it's an upgradation from a bicyclye to a Ferrari (or should i be saying McClaren instead).

Lived through another birthday yesterday. Turned 27. To paraphrase from K.Balachander's 'Kalki', "Aadu maadukku kooda thaan porantha naal varum" ("Even goats and cows have birthdays!"). I have to quote this phone conversation i had with a friend from college
(called Gaurav) on the 'occasion'.

Gaurav: It's your b'day today?
Me: Yeah..
Gaurav: Interesting...

And then we talked about other things....Now, this is the kindof b'day acknowledgement i can totally relate to...

I came to work today intending to work on something i was supposed to finish a week ago. Obviously, i am not doing that. The past 5 days, i've been coming to office with an infinite resolve to work, and each day, i've gone home a better carrom-player. God save my company(and my job!!)...

Start Frame:

2005-07-21T12:55:00.000-07:00

All bad things have a beginning. After a few months of 'wanting to blog', i am actually taking the first couple of steps.
As of now, three aspects dominate my life. I work. I add 1 to my age every year. I think of doing a whole lot of things and dont move an inch towards even one of them(well mostly, i mean this blog thing was one of those things, and even if i dont add another post after this, this should count for an inch atleast!). This is simply an attempt to have a fourth thing to do with my time. Amen.