Year-end sortie

Damaned

Having a car at your disposal and a spouse who uses the house only for sleeping and bathing, the latter occasionally, is the perfect recipe for a nomadic life. And so we set out on Christmas morning at 6:00 AM to western India, and in particular the picturesque town of Daman. One of our friend Sachin hails from there and he was happy to accompany us. In turn we were glad to have company and add the fact that our stay was taken care of at his home :) it was a symbiotic trip.

The drive was quite pleasant given that the roads were excellent, but an hour from Daman there was a huge jam because of a couple of overturned trucks. In spite of that we made good time and reached by 1:00 PM. Owing to to the Idlis and Poha we had for breakfast we were in no particular hurry to lunch immediately. After a few leisurely hours spent in chatting with Sachin's dad and the seraphic Sajjan who takes care of everything in and around the house, we lazed in the garden playing Scrabble.

Daman was no different from any other town, but when you are a visitor you are awed by the most mundane things which don't appeal to you in your own city. So we duly clicked away at all and sundry - roads, bridges, boats, churches. On our way to see the lighthouse, we first tasted faluda. It is the single most delicious thing I had tasted in a long long time. Needless to say it became the de facto drink throughout our stay. After spending a peaceful hour at the Jampore beach and listening to a bunch of enthusiastic but unmelodious kids belt out carols, we retired to our room but not before a sumptuous meal and an engaging conversation with Sachin's dad.

Uncle was one of the few people we had met to whom we took an instant liking. Not only because he immediately put us at ease, but he is one of those rare people whose actions speak louder. If not for him, Sajjan might have been roaming the streets of his native village leading a life of ignorance and probably turning out to be an uneducated youth. But thanks to uncle, he now has a place to live, a vocation to pursue and a teacher to groom him.

The entire place is so tiny that we could travel from one end of Daman to the other in a matter of minutes. So the second day we just decided to catch a movie in the morning and then go around the market and Devka beach in the evening. The most interesting thing though happened when we returned home - we decided to learn how to play bridge. Poor uncle oblivious to our learning skills proceeded to explain in great detail the basic rules, variations and strategies. It was so horribly hard for us that we just gave it up as a bad job.

The next morning we left again early at 7:30 AM and on an impulse decided to visit the nearby union territory of Dadra & Nagar Haveli. We hardly spent 30 mins in its capital Silvassa. In fact all we did there was to have breakfast and a heavy one at that including Khaman, Samosa, Wadapav, Gajar ka halwa and topped it with tea. The return from there to Pune was uneventful with one break for lunch and we were home well in time for the evening tea. From a journey perspective we probably didn't see anything new, but having met two diverse characters in Sajjan and Sachin's dad has more than made up for that. The trip is captured here in pictures.

Give and take

Comeuppance

Its a national syndrome with the rickshaw drivers. They refuse to ply short distances, demand exorbitant fares, drive recklessly and are in general abusive. The only time I care for their existence is when they get in my way or during the once in a while trips to the railway station. But Amudha's story is different. She has to deal with them at least thrice a week. Her gym is in a so near for a ride yet too far for walking kind of location. Given she leaves at 6:45 AM its a foregone conclusion that I can't help her. At that time of the day or should I say night, nothing can keep me outside my quilt.

She has to deal daily with the drivers in the rickshaw stand next to my house. For a 10 minute 30 bucks ride they usually either turn her down or quote 50 to put her off. And given the way unions work, its more or less the same set of drivers in that stand so they know her by sight and also where she wants to go so early in the morning. There is one particular fellow who steadfastly declines her request saying he doesn't get a ride back from her gym because its so close. So I was surprised when I heard she approached him the other day. He must have been happy to hear the first part of her statement although I'd have loved to see his face after the next. "I have to go to the railway station. I will not ride in your rick, but wanted to tell you I'm going far."


Unfair Exchange

The thing with regrets is that it usually serves no purpose. To make someone else believe you see the folly of your actions or to appease your own conscience, saying that you are sorry might be sufficient at times. But actually feeling remorseful is something that you can only go through personally. I had one such humbling experience recently.

Driving daily to the office through the chaotic traffic is one thing and having reached there, going to the parking lot is another. In the wake of terror attacks elsewhere, security had been beefed-up at the entrance. What it means is an extended waiting period often on the road. The days when there isn't a huge pile of cars ahead of me are far and few, so I gladly welcome those. It was one such day that I encountered a van parked right at the turning of the entrance driven by an elderly gentleman.

"Do you have any sense?" I bellowed, regretting the choice of words the moment they left my lips. I didn't need Amudha's sharp rebuke asking if that is the way to talk to elders. It didn't help to see the hurt in his eyes while he responded with, "no, but I'm sure you have all of it." I tried several reasons in my head to justify the outburst, but they all sounded hollow leaving me acutely uncomfortable.I spent a miserable morning fidgeting at my desk, unable to forget the face or forgive myself. The only thing I could recollect were Omar Khayyam's words :

                                     The moving finger writes; and, having writ,
                                     Moves on: nor all your piety nor wit
                                     Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
                                     Nor all your tears wash out a word of it.

Weekend Story

Travelogue

Last weekend along with a couple of friends Ananth & Mihir, we had driven down to a quaint place 150 Kms from Pune. Mahabaleswar and Panchgani are probably nice places to go to during summer, but mid November wasn't a bad time either. Aside from two road hogs, the onward journey was uneventful. But then we left at 7:00 AM and there was hardly any traffic. We even took a tea break at a wayside stall. We arrived by 9:00 AM in Panchgani to be greeted by a chilly morning wind.

After a delicious breakfast of Poha and another round of tea, we set about exploring the place on foot. There wasn't a whole lot to do given the early hour and it being the off-season, but all the same it was liberating to be away from the maddening city crowds. By the time we drove on to Mahabaleswar, sun was up and it was a relief. There is this market street which at first seemed to be made of only Strawberry and souvenir vendors. We spent an enjoyable hour walking up and down the place.

Mihir had only two things on his mind ever since we chalked out the plan for this getaway - Strawberry shake with fresh cream in Mahabaleswar and Sandwiches at Mapro. We set about fulfilling his first wish at a place called Bagicha. It was so scrumptious and filling that we decided to skip lunch and head straight to Mapro. It was a bustling place with lot of weekenders like us, but we were grateful for the lack of large crowds. We soon settled in a cozy corner with our Sandwiches and Pizza.

Having spent the good part of two hours lounging there playing scrabble (where Ananth & Mihir suffered a drubbing :) at our hands), we decided to head back before sundown. The drive back was equally blasé, a heavier traffic notwithstanding. All in all, it was one of those pleasant ways to wind down after a hectic week. Must do it some time again. Some pics here of the trip.

A tale of few pities

Governmented

Its not a coincidence that the title sounds like a parody of Charles Dickens' historical novel. While the classic story chronicled the battles between the aristocracy and working class, in my case it was one way oppression by the bureaucracy. 

I woke up this morning hoping to watch the India - England match under the pretext of working from home, oblivious to the fact that fate had other plans. I brushed, bathed and clothed in record time. With a bowl of cornflakes, I was settling in front of the TV when blip went the power. Scheduled load-shedding, only no one knows what the schedule is.

Cursing my luck I set out wanting to wind up the two things I had been postponing for a while. The reluctance was partly due to laziness and mostly due to my skepticism for government run offices. The first was simple. I had to go to the bank, correct my surname, collect my ATM card PIN, update my passbook and request for a second ATM card. Sounded like a 15 minute job to me, but was sure it would be anything but. In fact Amudha was so sure, she made plans to go to office with another colleague despite my promise we'll be only slightly later than normal. I did manage to finish all those chores in 10  minutes !

Feeling smug at this pleasant surprise, I ignored Murphy's law and went about the second task. In my opinion this was the lesser of the two evils. I just had to renew my car's insurance policy. The only complication was that the previous policy had expired a month ago, so the officer would have wanted to see the car first. 

The first signs came when I couldn't find a parking place close to the insurance office. Having parked almost a kilometer away, I trundled in, only to be told that the car needs to be brought in. I tried pleading that their office was in a no parking zone so couldn't keep my car there, but had to finally risk it so that the officer could verify for himself.

Now comes the part which justifies the revulsion people have for government offices. My application was sent to at least 5 different desks and in one case the lady called the office boy at the other end to pass the document to the person sitting right across her. I was determined to finish the job today, but was unprepared for further testing of my resolve.

Having realized that I was short of the premium amount by a thousand and knowing that the ATM was hardly a stone's throw away, I promised the cashier I would be back in a minute. To my horror, a sign board stating that the ATM was shifted to the other end of the road greeted me. I had no option but to trudge up and down in the hot sun for another 2 kms before I could conclude the business.

By now I was sick of running from pillar to post and was yearning for a few creature comforts like my ac office and a sip of cool lime juice. As I sped into my office premises, the parking attendant threw his hands up in the air and declared that the parking is full. Some days ...

Anatomy of a song

Ode to everybody

As we embark on this verse, a heading is obviously the first.
Hair-raising isn't its essence, lest it faces strong dissonance.
Churches and temples are no-nos, so as no one wrinkles their nose.
Keep your eyes and ears open then, for this is going to be fun.

I considered something tongue-in-cheek, but it sounded way too weak.
May be a little about cheese dips, to get people smacking their lips ?
What about tales of the tooth fairy, or would it sound too airy ?
These ideas are going down south, and its time to shut my mouth.

Must keep going with my chin up, and resist asking for outside help.
An Emotional and touching quote, to raise a lump in the throat ?
"Armed bandits under hoods, waiting in the neck of the woods" ?
Time to stop and ponder, giving these titles a cold-shoulder.

This is fast becoming a quest, to be gotten off my chest.
I sure have the stomach for the fight, in getting the title just right.
I should relax and sit back, and give this test a proper crack.
Hands down this effort tops all, previous idiocies big and small.

My fingers are in pain, and my patience is on the wane.
I got to somehow nail this, or blow it a long hard good-bye kiss.
Motivation is on its last legs, but must not settle for the dregs.
This has been no mean feat, to think for so long on my feet.

As all this comes to an end, I can't help but not pretend.
Every stanza except this, did quite a lot of justice.
If you don't know what I mean, take a closer look to glean.
If your mind is by now numb, and you are still struck dumb,

I just described the human body from top to bottom :)

A silent prayer

Last wish

With each rapid cyclic motion of dip, scoop and gulp, I was wondering when will it be my turn. Not that I had too many expectations or aspirations of escaping certain death, but the waxing and waning of anticipation with each dip and subsequent slip was beginning to get onto my nerves. The rhythmic actions were only going to last so long and eventually it would be my time to go.

The events of the past few days flashed in front of my eyes. The heavenly aroma of the bakery where it all started, the warped plastic tray, the jostling for space and the claustrophobia caused by cramped quarters, the smell of plastic covers. I was just lying there awaiting my turn and hoping someone would be kind enough to ask for my opinion before they decide my fate.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember is being thrown onto the cold floor of this receptacle along with a few others. Before we could so much as look around, we were doused in hot water. And then began the ritual. With each dip, I was hoping it would be someone else, giving me precious extra seconds of life. But as I saw our numbers dwindle and my brethren vanish one after the other, I resigned myself to the inevitable fate.

A few minutes later, I was the only one left and knew someone was saving me for the end. I smiled wryly at the irony of that statement. How would it feel to be lifted so far above the ground ? How fast will I slide down the huge slimy dark alley. What chance do I have of escape once inside ? I tried not to imagine myself doused in acids. Even as I was contemplating other horrors, I was lifted off the ground. As I saw the entrance to my hell, my last thoughts were ... never to be born as a bread crumb and be in a soup again.

Material Pressures

... and production lines

If you are not fair and thin, or don't have silky limbs and hair, or a toned body and a glowing face, you are as good as non-existent. Or so the commercials on the idiot box pontificate. They simply beat it into our heads that without their products we have no identity or worse, recognition. I find the whitening and fairness ads most obnoxious. As if dark skinned humans must have only one aim in life, to bleach themselves.

Really, its astonishing that we have mind boggling choices for every small and big thing we need since we wake up to the time we retire again. Brushes, pastes, shaving creams, razors, soaps, shampoos, deodorants, clothes, accessories, vehicles, electronic gadgets, kitchenware, mattresses. Most of these glorify their own merchandise with statistical data or approval from noted authorities in the field. Its the ones which try to pander to my emotions than my intelligence that irk me.

Predominantly its cosmetics that fall into this category of shallow marketing. I used to think fairness was an obsession with the fair sex :), but off late I see ads depicting men being equally inane. And since when is being grey-haired considered an insult ? If you don't dye, you might as well die. Please. Then there are these irrelevant ads which have no connection between the product and the promo. Like a half clad woman appearing in a male inner-wear ad. Defies logic.

One of these days when I see a fat, balding, unshaven, swarthy man, I'll cheer for his belligerence towards these nauseating ads ... unless he has lost his five senses and has no TV.

Xenia

The strange feeling

As I waved at the familiar policeman this morning on my way to work, I was contemplating the strange relation we shared. I don't know a thing about him except that he volunteers to man the chaotic and erratic traffic at the junction near my office. Not even his name. But unlike most of my fellow drivers who make me swear, his cheery salute lifts my spirits and gives my day a brighter start.

While munching through my cornflakes, I continued musing about this odd association and wondered why I never stopped to talk to him. Out of nowhere, many more nameless faces burst into my memory - the waiters who greet me with a smile at the restaurant near my house and show me to my regular table,  the watchmen near my building who dutifully salute each morning, the petrol pump attendants whose faces split into a grin because I always top up my car, the vegetable vendor from whom I buy 1 carrot or 1 onion or 1 capsicum a day, the guava vendor I mentioned elsewhere in this blog, the cashier in my canteen, the list was growing by the minute the more I thought.

I was beginning to feel guilty at this point for never having even bothered to know their names. I knew it had nothing to do with my xenophobia or unsociable nature. Was it plain laziness ? I don't know. I might, one of these days. Till then I'll bask in this paradox of being amidst a bunch of strangers who feel familiar.

PS : For those who think the title is Greek and Latin, its only the former ; meaning hospitality to strangers.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

who in the land is ugliest of all ?

And the truthful answer is us. The Grimm brothers might not have envisaged their folktale being applicable so many years after conception, that too in such a negative way. Grim it is indeed. For those who are unfamiliar or wish to refresh their lore, here is an outline of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Unlike the queen who used the mirror as a tool to pander to her vanity, we ought to appraise and uprise ourselves.

<rant>

This thought entered my mind when I was penning the cell-pain post, but I didn't want to take a detour there. So what exactly is my latest screed ? Simply put it is the amount of ignorance, indifference and insensitivity we seem to spew knowingly or otherwise. I'm not talking about incidents of political unrest, regional divide ,communal discord, environmental apathy, corruption or any such largescale and generic factors affecting public at large. My grouse is about the small things that are very much in our control but which we carry on without impunity and compunction.

There is absolutely no consideration if we are inconveniencing others, or worse, not caring even if we realize it is an inconvenience. Roads, restaurants, movie halls, offices, airports, trains. You just name it and we have at least half a dozen ways to behave callously at each. If we are behind the steering wheel, we have no respect for signals or lanes or pedestrians. In a restaurant, we don't feel the need to rein in our children so that their racket doesn't annoy other patrons. In movie halls we don't care if we are disturbing everyone with cell-talk in the middle of the screening. In office it is acceptable to shout and talk loudly or put our phones on speaker at our desk. We have complete disregard for queues and rules everywhere. When traveling in a train, we assume that playing songs on speaker is entertaining to other passengers.

If all this sounds like an utterly cynical view of life and making a mountain out of a molehill, you aren't obviously subjected enough to these. Yes, in a way none of these are follies of such magnitude as to deserve this tirade. But what was it about little drops of water making the mighty ocean ? The simplistic remedy would be to spread awareness, but like I mentioned earlier, at times we seem to relish annoying others. What else then will work ? May be we should follow the lead of the queen's red hot iron dancing shoes.

</rant>

A salt and battery story

McDrive

For those unaccustomed to my rabid sense of humor, I thrive on bad puns, use lots of homophones and am always on the lookout for phonetic humor. But then anyone reading these posts in sequence would have discovered it by now. With that priming in place, it won't be hard to guess the title has anything but to do with physical violence.

I'm surprised at the number of people who ask me the same question as soon as they discover that my wife is away for a month. "What do you do for dinner ?" I find this amusing or annoying depending on my hunger level then. The feeling has nothing to do with Amudha's culinary skills which mercifully are more than sufficient.

Instead, its the tacit suggestion that when in town she is or ought to be the one taking care of alimentary needs at home. Without getting into my views on equal rights and giving the benefit of doubt to the innocent enquirer's sympathetic query, I can safely state that we both are perfectly happy with our dinner plans. We eat in, out or pack food as we please depending on the mood and time.

One of the things that I pester Amudha to make at home is dosa. We get the batter readymade and all it takes is to add some salt and get going ... or so I thought all this while. The other day on my way back from office, I bought the batter and set about making them. Almost immediately I realized I had no clue how much salt to add or even how or where to make them.

So using the age old trial and error method, I managed to blend the batter in salt (in retrospect that's how it felt) and made shapeless blobs in the pan. In the mêlée I neglected tiny details like spreading the batter or using oil to smoothen the edges and ended up with burnt salty yellow lumps sticking to my non-stick pan. That was when I drove over to McDonald's.

Cell trill

Mobile menace

It is so easy to be condescending towards others while we commit the same mistakes. Its a case of bylaws being applicable to other lesser mortals while we play Gods. I'm not being sarcastic, but saying this feeling chastened.

We all know how cells have permeated our collective lives. Like its poor relative the landline and TV, the cell has filtered down the luxury layer into being a necessity. But at what cost ... ?

We no longer care to talk to a person sitting next to us while we are busy texting or calling someone else on the phone. We don't think it is rude anymore to use the phone when in the company of others or in public places like restaurants, cinema halls. We feel it is OK to talk while driving. The list is endless.

My point is not as much about a 'holier than thou' stand as it is about flitting between the roles of the perpetrator and the victim. I for one have done all of the above things at one point or the other, with a strong possibility of being a repeat offender. I have also felt harassed when other people do these same things !

We are so attached to our gadgets that we find it impossible to live without them. A missing charger or a forgotten phone is enough to upset us.

I just can't figure out when and how did I trade my privacy for this constant tracking in the name of being reachable at all times. Like my friend Anu says, its akin to being tagged and tracked with an RFID.

One of these days I'll probably just throw my ... hold on, brb, my cell is ringing : )

Her absence makes my ...

... head go flounder?

Old adages and sayings are obviously seeded in a grain of truth. Credit must go to those who coined these phrases for they preserved bitter experiences in pithy statements. What else explains the existence of a handy proverb to describe any and every situation or emotion?

Having rambled my way through a pointless introduction, let me get to the crux of this post. Off late I have been missing her. As the caption implies, some things are not valued until you are deprived of them. Strictly speaking calling her a thing might not make sense, but lets not split hairs here.

There were many times when I felt annoyed with her appearance because I wanted to do something else. I used to yield reluctantly to her wish, but now I'm wiser that it was the right thing to do then. And just as I'm musing here about her, she beckons and I can't refuse. So off I go to collapse into her arms. Isn't she bewitching indeed, this beauty of sleep ? z z z z z

Reflections of Truth

Riot of Colors

This is the first post that isn't a personal experience, but an output of pure imagination.

Once upon a rainy night , there was brewing a stormy fight
When it finally was dawn, Sun was ready to get on.
But he was not the only one awake, for he heard a distant quake.
As he peered through droplets of rain, he saw an arc of light under strain.

Colors of the rainbow were arguing, as to who was the most engaging.
Bragging was the name of the game, each laying their own claim to fame.

Said Violet at the top of the arc , "I'm the leader of the pack"
"And don't forget my other mark, as a beautiful flower of lilac"

Indigo was unable to contain, for it was its turn to maintain
"I'm no stranger to flora either I guess, and I yield dyes as a bonus

Blue was mighty pleased with itself, knowing it had a lot to yelp
"I'm the blue blood of aristocracy, I'm the blue mood of melancholy"
"I'm the blue movie of impropriety, I'm the true blue of loyalty"
"Even our backdrop - why, is the blue blue sky"

Green turned itself with envy, but knew it too had plenty
"If its a question of variety, you'll find me in every sphere of activity"
"Environment to vegetation, balanced diet to outdoor recreation"
"Human naivete and innocence, there is no match for my presence"

Yellow jeered mockingly, it couldn't take the others kindly
"Sunflowers or ripe lemons, pages of aging books or yellow journalism"
"People dread me as jaundice, in case any of you didn't notice"
"Oh you simple common folk, accept I'm as good as egg yolk"

Orange felt a seed of self-doubt, but all the same went about
"I'm probably the most useful, doubling up as a fruit as well

Red was smug, knowing it was about to pull the plug
"Blood or cherries, tomatoes or rubies"
"To rage or danger, I'm no stranger"
"Embarrassment or communism, I exemplify all of them"

Sun was growing concerned, finding each boast more absurd
The shades were in no good mood, nor would they end their feud
And on it went this madness, casting a pall of dark sadness
Each hue left the rest ostracized, leaving the light truly polarized

Mercifully this didn't last, for each tint missed the next closest
Along came a piece of glass, in truth a prism it was
The light ray was relieved, for help had arrived
Although there was no rain, the colors were together again

May be here is a lesson, for all of us to discern
To believe in unity, and stop being petty.

Heckling

Call it the cessation of early excitement or plain laziness, there is no sane reason for having abandoned blogging over the past few weeks. Anyway its good to decant the bottled up thoughts, so here I go:

Fruit Punch

"What the heck do you think are you doing ?" I whipped around to locate the source of the sassy comment. A wizened oldman was looking at me with a bemused expression on his face and a toothless grin robbing the words of all offence. In spite of my initial reaction, I couldn't help but smile. He was a guava vendor near the court where I play badminton. He continued, "Going away without buying. I've come all the way only because you are a regular." We both knew it was a lie because it was only my second time at that court. Nice try, he ought to be teaching marketing strategies in B schools I thought as I headed back home.

Maid in India

"What the heck do you think are you doing ?" My clearly startled maid said in a hushed tone."You gave me such a fright" she said as I limped towards the bathroom. After an exhausting hour of badminton with a hot shower in mind, I wasn't prepared either to bump into her. How was I to know she was washing clothes there. I mumbled an apology and retracted to my room.

After a while, still feeling abashed at having ambushed her, I thought I'll make amends with smalltalk. So I walked up to her in the kitchen and announced that my wife had gone to America for a month. "Amrikka ?" she asked blankly. I was lost, I just assumed everyone knew what it meant. We were staring at each other hoping the other would comprehend our dilemma. She said finally "Gaon gayi hai ?" I admitted that it was indeed the case. "Phir tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" I gave up. It wasn't going to be my day so decided to go for a drive.

Al(ar)ms

"What the heck do you think are you doing ?" This time it was I who muttered angrily. I was waiting at a traffic signal when this mendicant turned up by my side. It was a hot day so I had the window up and ac running. I am generally ambivalent about encouraging beggars, but at times give alms when it is kids or invalids or old people. I most certainly don't take kindly to able-bodied cadgers like this one, demanding money. I ignored her while she increasingly got prickly at my lack of charity.The next thing I heard as the light turned green was a screeching sound of the beggar making a perfect oval on my window glass with a shining one rupee coin. She had her revenge.

Home-o-nims

Ward we-erred-nest

Eye no their ease know weigh annie-won ken reed dis four eh lawn tie-'em we-thought feel-ink law-st our way-axed. Inn fat eye vent ma-ad trine two fined home-o-fawns four itch off d wards inn dis posed. Jest ann-otter we-erred-oh eggs-per-mint. Eye wonted two sea ho mulch lawn-gur ken eye make dis pair-hawk-raf lassed.

Knot bard dat eye yam a-bull two fined in-off two get inn-two d sick-and. Butt wee both no nov dat eye yam jest drag-in eat horn buy righting noun-cense. May bee eye shooed tri two narrate eh storey dis weigh, sou hear eat ease:

Ones a-pawn eh tie-em, their wars eh doh-barman. D and.

Eye hoop ewe gat d shot tail. Weigh-ell eats sum-thin eye jest rim-am-bird end day-fin-at-lee knot mei own, butt were-th in-off techs four dis posed.

Eye maid ewes off eggs-sting caw-man now-uns our wards two right dawn too parse off won ward ate tie-ems. Itch pa dhow ease steel meanie-full.

Few !!!

What's in a name ?

Title Rationale

We do seem to hit it off splendidly. Me and this Shakespeare guy. How else do you explain his musings fitting the topics I'm penning so well ? Lest you fear this is going to be a harangue on linguistic exploration and etymology of words and phrases, let me reassure that I merely meant to throw some light on the mystery surrounding my blog's name.

I've been asked a few times now by people who can't decide if crossword is just a random word I picked up or does it stand for something more - like short for crossing of words, an alleged pun or a reference to the book store chain given I'm an avid reader. Its neither. I just named it after my favorite pastime - that of solving crosswords.

The title is probably cryptic - my preferred type of crossword. It thrills me that there is an air of unknown about my blog this explanation notwithstanding. But its good to discover there are additional connotations though I didn't think of them. May be one of these days I'll post a puzzle here for people to have a crack at.

Fly in the ointment

... and other such irritations

This post is an outgrowth of watching my wife and her woebegone tale of misery over the past one month or so. Having gone through a gamut of emotions from sympathy, concern, hilarity, annoyance, vexation and helplessness corresponding to her various ailments throughout this period, I finally decided that there is enough material worth chronicling here.

When I sit back now and think about where,when and how this phase had started, the only thing that comes to my mind is her gym. She had switched gyms and signed up for 3 month aerobics at a new place. After the first session about a month ago, she is yet to attend her second. What started as a minor stomach upset quickly manifested into a viral fever that de-oxidized all her exercise plans for the next two weeks.

Just when she was raring to go back, the tooth fairy curse hit her. We surely didn't find any money under our pillows when her wisdom tooth was extracted. On the contrary some of our own flew into the doc's pocket. She was petrified at the thought of having it pulled out and decided to brave the pain for a few days until it became inevitable. The doc didn't do much to allay her fears by announcing that two teeth need removal to correct the problem. When it was finally over, it was hard to tell who was the most relieved - me, my wife or the doc.

That was about a week ago and she is still complaining of the excavation site sending reminders up her jaw, ear, eye, neck and head. And did I mention that she recently started wearing contact lens ? Sorry for the abrupt change of subject, but you'll see where it fits into the narration. In my opinion my wife and the word 'dexterity' don't go in the same sentence. I have enough testimonials to prove this though she denies it and calls it a case of the pot calling the kettle black etc. So you can imagine my skepticism when she desired to use lens and my doubts were confirmed when she announced yesterday that she couldn't see her lens (sorry couldn't resist that).

I was made to search the car for the missing offender although I just can't imagine it falling out of the eye and the wearer unaware of it. The next morning she did another search - this time on google to find out if this is a common enough phenomenon. I personally didn't think how the lens could've undergone osmosis and entered her body, but kept this wise idea to myself. She though is convinced it has happened and is unsure if the pain in her eye is because of this or the tooth extraction.

Another google search (again hers) this time for post tooth extraction problems made her conclude she is showing all the symptoms for an ailment called alveolar osteitis. I suggested that probably pronouncing it a couple of times will cure her of it which earned me the label of being an insensitive wart.

What was that again Murphy said ? about things going wrong ...

The Dark (K)night

And the aftermath

The most direct and obvious connotation of the title as you might have guessed is the latest screen version of a comic book story.Suffice it to say that the movie works big time on several levels. Its the proverbial breath of fresh air for audience subjected to a spate of regional, national and international insipid fares. After Hancock, I was apprehensive of watching another superhero pic so soon, but my fears were unfounded.

As every review you can lay your hands on tells you, its not so much the plot that captivates you as the brilliant portrayals by the cast. This is the first batman pic I ever watched, so I've no clue if Christian Bale has matured over the movies, but here I thought he was more at ease as the suave Bruce Wayne than the brooding knight. As police official Jim Gordon, Gary Oldman was so understated and effective that I couldn't believe it was the same person who played Sirius Black in the Harry Potter movies.

The Joker might be a villain in the books but when it comes to acting department, hands down Heath Ledger is the hero of the movie. The term eulogy is probably never more apt considering this was his penultimate release. If you want to know why superlatives seem to flow off every single person's tongue when talking about him, go watch the pic. You'll never see the actor, only the psychopathic character. The other worthy mention according to me is Hans Zimmer whose background score is every bit as captivating as the slick narration and sublime acting.

Topnotch action scenes, gripping story, perfect cast. One for the collectibles. Go get it.

* * * * *

The other side of the title is the current power shortage which literally and actually is making people swat flies and mosquitoes. For people used to a unending diet of unpalatable stuff on TV, this is a welcome relief. On the other hand, the addicts are being driven crazy. Either way until the monsoon arrives, we are in for an extended spell of idle time. So what do we do ? Books ? Music ? Movies ? Must look up to the heavens for ideas ... and rains.

Arcanum

*******
No the title doesn't mean any censored swear words. Its the universal identifying feature of a password. Was just typing in mine to unlock the machine and it stuck me as odd that I chose that particular phrase. And then I reflected on some of the recent ones I had been using everywhere - Lotus Notes, orkut, yahoo , hotmail etc and the pattern confirmed my lunacy...

... or lack of imagination or whatever the motivation, its not the first time that I was using passwords like "i love barone" or "i am mad". Of course I gave up on single words which read like "$p1derman" or "@pple1ph0n3" because it was getting tedious to make them up. And by the time I hold the shift keys and grope around the keyboard, any over-the-shoulder looker would have had ample time to digest it.

So where do people get ideas from for choosing their next password ? What with the restrictions getting more and more ridiculous - don't repeat the last 5, have a alphanumeric mix, no two consecutive chars should be same, its easier to stick to phrases. I seem to draw inspiration from whatever is at the front of my mind in recent times. That means characters out of the book I'm reading currently or any food item that has taken my fancy.

A word to the wise - never change your password on a Friday evening.I made that mistake once and spent the first few hours of the next Monday retrieving it.

Analogues

Tis similar...

Was just reading about how too much of T20 cricket was killing the interest in the game. I also read this morning in the newspaper about how 150 odd movies are vying for release dates among 52 Fridays available in a year.Both of them stuck me as ailing from the same malaise - that of trying to fill a 10kg sack with 20kg content. That weird analogy came to my mind yesterday when watching the lead actress in Kismat Konnection, but that's food for another blog thought.

I'd like to believe that I'm not a fanatic about either movies or cricket. I'm pretty sure about the first, but can't say the same with conviction about the game. According to my wife I watch even those games on TV which some of the cricketer's families skip. I should be glad she hasn't yet discovered that I also tune into obscure badminton, 9 ball , tt , golf or tennis matches. But then I also watch every other hindi,english,tamil and telugu movie to be released around, so still can't decide.

Either way, is there an overdose ? Certainly yes, and as you would expect, quality beats a hasty retreat when it is upstaged by quantity. I mean the kind of matches and movies I had seen in the past few months were such drags that I don't care to remember the plot (if there ever was one) or who played whom. No wonder the only lingering memories are that of the T20 worldcup final and Taare Zameen Par. Yet the relentless onslaught of inanity continues - every Friday and every season.

I'd do better to switch off - the TV and my mind.

Fridays

Is it really TGIF ?

Would you really thank your maker for a Friday if the rest of the weekdays feel the same? I'm not trying to paint a rosy picture here of a idyll week. On the contrary I'm bored stiff day-in and day-out having not a whole lot to do. All those who crave for a break from their work and look forward to the weekend might think I'm a nut and an ingrate, but yeah one man's meat and all that...

I know I'm the one responsible for this state of affairs where I literally twiddle thumbs all day (well, almost because you know how this conscience thingy pricks).One uncharitable friend even put down my new found enthusiasm to blog as a byproduct of this ennui.With pals like these kind around me who needs enemies.

Anyway so coming back to Fridays, today is one such of the innumerable that I've watched swish past me over the last few weeks. I must get a grip. Already feeling better having said it out aloud.I do want to get back to the life where I can feel thank god its friday. And the best thing is that I know I'll do it. So Monday, here I come.

Books ...

... and what they mean to me.


If given a choice, I generally prefer reading a book to watching a video. It helps me relax much better because I know I'm in control. I get to set the pace and revisit any interesting parts. I can also move around and multitask with my iPod. A picture might be worth 1000 words, but I'd rather have those words any day unless the image is one of my friend Shweta's creation. I reckon she is seriously good.Check some of her stuff here

If the blurb suggests that the book is going to be a fast read, then its for me. I tend to avoid non-fiction and heavy stuff which requires a lot of attention and concentration. So it should come as no big surprise that the authors I pick most often happen to be sidney sheldon, jeffrey archer, robert ludlum, j k rowling, dan brown, frederick forsyth, david baldacci and on rare occasions john grisham. I read one or two books of robin cook before realizing that they are all the same. I once made the humongous mistake of reading mary higgins-clark. She might be a good writer, but definitely not my cuppa.

So then, the noticeable absentee from that list above is p g wodehouse. That's because I don't consider any of his writings as light reads. Don't get me wrong. I only meant I give them my fullest concentration. I absolutely adore the guy's eloquence and usage of the language. At the risk of sounding immodest, his books are the only ones that make me go for the dictionary now-a-days. I'm in the middle of his short story collection "The Clicking of Cuthbert" and its so good that even a complete novice about golf like me can enjoy it.

If you are Amudha or Shweta, you'll probably want to skip this paragraph. And if you are Harini or Anitha you know what I'm going to talk about. Pottering around the same 7 books repeatedly is not going to excite many people, but then not all are as fascinated by a magical world. You have to give it to Rowling for her sheer imagination. Every reading reveals something new that I missed the last time and its like another window opened into a castle full of treats. If there is anyone more thorough about the books than me in the family, that's my cousin Harini. I love debating the books with her.

As you can expect, my house is so full of books that my wife has written off one room to them in our new house. My only wish when I grow old is that I should keep my eyesight intact so I can continue enjoying this hobby of mine.

A way-too-soon-by-my-standards second post

Questions, questions and questions.

I thought I'll continue from where I left yesterday. Obviously I've decided to post again, so I'll revert to the original question. Why do people blog ? If a blog is supposedly like your personal journal what is it doing out there in the open where anyone can read and criticize ? Or is that what a blog is meant for ? I decided to look up the definition and this is what wordweb says :

Blog (n) : A shared on-line journal where people can post daily entries about their personal experiences and hobbies.

The operative word here must be shared. But if I wanted to share my personal experiences, shouldn't I also be choosing who to share it with ? Does this mean I'm more inhibited than others by my own sense of privacy ? So am I to regard regular bloggers as extroverts or suspect them to be me-deep in narcissism ? May be if I just shut up and get on with blogging, it might save people around me (read my wife) from being subjected to this kind of torture.

One of these days, I think I should stop thinking, else my mind will kill itself with these kind of questions on trivia. Its obvious that I have too much spare time on hand.

First post

To blog or not to blog ?

While not as big a dilemma as hamlet's soliloquy, the question does have its merits. I mean if your moods are as volatile as mine, you would be pondering too for a long time. Did you notice the oxymoron ? And it also explains why this blog was created a couple of years back and still this is the first post ! Or to be precise why this is the first published post.

So what finally got me off my lazy and aching ass (owing to a nurse's curative jab ... was down with ague, but we are digressing) were two things, rather two people. One was a dear old friend from college whose article News power inspired me to write this. I mean if a certified lethargic like her can actually pen something and foist it on unsuspecting public, I thought I can definitely do one better. I must be a fool to pan her like this when I need her services. If you followed the link above you'll know what I mean - there was an interesting phrase ending in something about ... virgin information. Aha, caught your attention at last.

The second person is my wife Amudha who, like me, appreciated the article ( if you are Anuradha C reading this, please notice that I've just praised you). She also wondered why I hadn't written anything anywhere till now ? I thought surely, my wife can't be feeling challenged because one of my friends had written an article. That didn't sound like her, and I had my own suspicions. Nevertheless I thought the idea had some substance and here I am.

Which brings me finally to the crux of this post - what do I write about ? You see I stole the title readily from Amudha but unfortunately had no content. May be I should just sign off here before I lose interest and discard this post like I did with last year's draft. I just received a thwack for airing this idea loudly with my wife in the vicinity. So I decided to plough on - and end it here. Another day, another post hopefully ... so I have a new dilemma now, to post or not to post ...