When Dr. Raj would thrash Vajramuni...in plastic...
Dec. 20th, 2009 | 07:32 pm
"I can't carry this up" declared my mom. It was a pretty large tub full of wet clothes that needed to be carried to the terrace - 2 floors up. I picked up the tub and made my way up the stairs. At the end while I unlocked the doors my mom stood there panting away. "I can't climb these stairs so easily these days" she said. "Well, you don't need to, just tell me and I'll go get whatever you need" I offered. The tugs close to the heart followed as I remembered that I'll have to go on to Seattle in a couple of weeks leaving them to manage things on their own. Such empty promises. I managed to open the door and stepped out into the sunlight. It was a typical Bangalore morning. The warmth catching up as the Sun tries to clear up the mist and get the day going. A lovely day seemed to be in the offing.
I looked around to find the clips for the clothes line. There were many lying around. Closer inspection and they were all broken. Wind, Sun and my mom's handling had taken their toll. My mom had working ones in a box which she now set over on a wall. All I could think of was how these clips had never ever lasted long, always lying broken, ensuring that it was almost always on the shopping list each month. She even wanted to buy some from the US hoping that they'd last! "You know, you could buy something more expensive and it might last much longer" I told her. "They are pretty expensive already these days!" she countered. I did not try answering that. You can't always solve all the problems in the world. I helped her put the clothes on the clothes line and then we made our way back down into the house.
A while later my niece, all of 17 months sat down to play with her toys in the mat laid out for her. She picked up a couple of clips lying around and started playing with them. And the stories came back unleashed in a rush. The yellow one would be Dr. Raj or Vishnu or Ambarish depending on the latest movies released and playing on Chitramaala and the darker, duller ones invariably Vajramuni. Soon, as coloured clothing for cricket set in, the blue ones became the good ones and other colours had to be content with playing Vajramuni, being bashed and thrashed as plain white good vanquished plain black evil. And then the taller ones came in, made of wood. Difficult to characterize and differentiate due to lack of any colours, they became Amitabh Bachhan - tall, strong and angry. It was a time when clips meant a whole world of colours and had hidden stories waiting to be told - simple and epic. When you could spend hours hearing them out and not wonder what others thought about them. When breaking those clips made mom angry.
Sometimes wish life could be so simple again. But then looking at my nephews and niece as they go around their lives, sometimes trying to go down a slide face-first, sometimes moving their little fingers to the skies as they dream their dreams in sleep, sometimes cooking up little things in their little bowls and asking you to taste them, or asking their grandparents to hold them one last time before they go home and I wonder if this is how it is meant to be...
I guess that's the beauty of life...keeps you guessing till the very end...
I looked around to find the clips for the clothes line. There were many lying around. Closer inspection and they were all broken. Wind, Sun and my mom's handling had taken their toll. My mom had working ones in a box which she now set over on a wall. All I could think of was how these clips had never ever lasted long, always lying broken, ensuring that it was almost always on the shopping list each month. She even wanted to buy some from the US hoping that they'd last! "You know, you could buy something more expensive and it might last much longer" I told her. "They are pretty expensive already these days!" she countered. I did not try answering that. You can't always solve all the problems in the world. I helped her put the clothes on the clothes line and then we made our way back down into the house.
A while later my niece, all of 17 months sat down to play with her toys in the mat laid out for her. She picked up a couple of clips lying around and started playing with them. And the stories came back unleashed in a rush. The yellow one would be Dr. Raj or Vishnu or Ambarish depending on the latest movies released and playing on Chitramaala and the darker, duller ones invariably Vajramuni. Soon, as coloured clothing for cricket set in, the blue ones became the good ones and other colours had to be content with playing Vajramuni, being bashed and thrashed as plain white good vanquished plain black evil. And then the taller ones came in, made of wood. Difficult to characterize and differentiate due to lack of any colours, they became Amitabh Bachhan - tall, strong and angry. It was a time when clips meant a whole world of colours and had hidden stories waiting to be told - simple and epic. When you could spend hours hearing them out and not wonder what others thought about them. When breaking those clips made mom angry.
Sometimes wish life could be so simple again. But then looking at my nephews and niece as they go around their lives, sometimes trying to go down a slide face-first, sometimes moving their little fingers to the skies as they dream their dreams in sleep, sometimes cooking up little things in their little bowls and asking you to taste them, or asking their grandparents to hold them one last time before they go home and I wonder if this is how it is meant to be...
I guess that's the beauty of life...keeps you guessing till the very end...
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The howlers at midnight...
Dec. 16th, 2009 | 12:55 pm
It was the December of 1991, one of the coldest winters seen in Bangalore. The days were pretty tense. My grandfather(maternal) had been serious. There were quite a few anxious days and nights, and anxious visits to Srinagar (we were in Chamarajpet then). He eventually passed away in his sleep the same month.
Bangalore, Mysore and Mandya were also burning over Kaveri. Sights of buses charred to the last bits of metal were common. There was curfew with shoot at sight orders imposed in Chamarajpet. Had seen a huge posse of policemen, all carrying rifles patrolling the streets. We were sitting on the terrace watching the whole action, before one of them caught sight of us and ordered us down and inside our homes.
Those were days of anxiety. The monsoons had been strong too. Classes had been running at half strength as students stayed away due to the rains. There were rains all the way till November. My tonsils had been acting up too causing many days of sickness.
And then one day, I heard it for the first time. A dog howling. It was long, and drawn out. Almost baleful, as if mourning something he had lost. It sent shivers down my spine as I lay there in bed. Next morning, my grandma (paternal) told me this wasn't the first time. That dogs could sense Yama, the God of death when he is around. That the dog had howled the day my grandfather had passed away. It beat me why it would howl in Chamarajpet when my grandfather was in Srinagar. But the association stuck.
To this day dogs howling at night scares the hell out of me. And yesterday they set off a symphony of their own as half a dozen of them stationed themselves near my house and set off a long drawn out howling racket, that went on for close to an hour. All the time, I, now 29 years old, lay there in bed scared like shit! The important thing is they don't set up such howls every night. It happens only certain nights, once a fortnight. Makes me wonder if its the moon, and their call to it.
The association still lingers. During day time looking at the same dogs lying timidly under the shades of still adolescent trees, I laugh at the thought that they could strike such fear at night. And then, once it starts the fear grips me. Makes me wonder who it is that might be visited by Yama that night. Am not a non-believer, but I do temper my beliefs to decide what to believe and what not to. There are enough holes in dogs howling and Yama visiting for me to know that it might be far fetched. Dogs have howled a lot, but they haven't always resulted in people being dead in the morning. Or people die during the day time too and haven't seen dogs howling during day time.
But then, they start their dolorous howls which no matter how I rationalize things, always manage to set my heart racing with fear. I wonder what it is about them, maybe it is the unnatural way the howls turn out from otherwise timid dogs, or maybe its a scar/fear from childhood that am yet to outgrow or is yet to heal. Until I know the answers I guess I'll just close my eyes tight, hope that sleep takes me, and pray that all is well the next day morning.
Bangalore, Mysore and Mandya were also burning over Kaveri. Sights of buses charred to the last bits of metal were common. There was curfew with shoot at sight orders imposed in Chamarajpet. Had seen a huge posse of policemen, all carrying rifles patrolling the streets. We were sitting on the terrace watching the whole action, before one of them caught sight of us and ordered us down and inside our homes.
Those were days of anxiety. The monsoons had been strong too. Classes had been running at half strength as students stayed away due to the rains. There were rains all the way till November. My tonsils had been acting up too causing many days of sickness.
And then one day, I heard it for the first time. A dog howling. It was long, and drawn out. Almost baleful, as if mourning something he had lost. It sent shivers down my spine as I lay there in bed. Next morning, my grandma (paternal) told me this wasn't the first time. That dogs could sense Yama, the God of death when he is around. That the dog had howled the day my grandfather had passed away. It beat me why it would howl in Chamarajpet when my grandfather was in Srinagar. But the association stuck.
To this day dogs howling at night scares the hell out of me. And yesterday they set off a symphony of their own as half a dozen of them stationed themselves near my house and set off a long drawn out howling racket, that went on for close to an hour. All the time, I, now 29 years old, lay there in bed scared like shit! The important thing is they don't set up such howls every night. It happens only certain nights, once a fortnight. Makes me wonder if its the moon, and their call to it.
The association still lingers. During day time looking at the same dogs lying timidly under the shades of still adolescent trees, I laugh at the thought that they could strike such fear at night. And then, once it starts the fear grips me. Makes me wonder who it is that might be visited by Yama that night. Am not a non-believer, but I do temper my beliefs to decide what to believe and what not to. There are enough holes in dogs howling and Yama visiting for me to know that it might be far fetched. Dogs have howled a lot, but they haven't always resulted in people being dead in the morning. Or people die during the day time too and haven't seen dogs howling during day time.
But then, they start their dolorous howls which no matter how I rationalize things, always manage to set my heart racing with fear. I wonder what it is about them, maybe it is the unnatural way the howls turn out from otherwise timid dogs, or maybe its a scar/fear from childhood that am yet to outgrow or is yet to heal. Until I know the answers I guess I'll just close my eyes tight, hope that sleep takes me, and pray that all is well the next day morning.
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A state for me too Mr. Prime Minister?
Dec. 10th, 2009 | 10:11 pm
Fasts come full circle for Andhra. Its almost like a cruel joke of irony played on that state. Almost exactly 57 years back, in the December on 1952 Potti Sreeramulu went on a similar fast, which eventually claimed his life. Except that then his motive was the unification of all Telugu speaking regions into an Andhra state. His death and the uproar it caused forced Nehru to go ahead with forming states on linguistic basis, what we have now.
And now, KCR's fast divides the state all over again. I just can't get enough of the irony here! Question is, what will become of Hyderabad. Again its almost like Mumbai, developed by the Gujjus mostly it was claimed by the Marathis simply because it fell inside their state. And yes, you guessed it right! It took a lot of agitation and political arm twisting of Nehru to get that done. Hyderabad was developed as part of AP, and its now being claimed for Telengana simply because its inside that region. Its almost like they kicked Andhra out and asked them to form their own state! And again it will take a lot of agitation, fasts, suicides, self-immolations as each state stakes claim to the crown jewel.
What worries me most is what it will give rise to in other states. People around the Darjeeling-Siliguri belt have already intensified their agitation for Gorkhaland. Some are talking of Harith Pradesh. God knows where! Not sure what it will give rise to in Karnataka. Will the northerners in the Mumbai-Karnataka belt ask for their own state? Will the Kodavas rise up for their own state? I kind of feel the latter is less likely to happen, as they don't have much political influence. Saurashtra is another state that is being called for. But except for Harith Pradesh and Gorkhaland, the rest of the calls have been pretty muted, barely causing a ripple or a 2 inch mention in the papers.
Have always wondered how demands for statehood arise. Is it for genuine reasons like lack of development, like in the case of Jharkhand or Uttarakhand because the state was already too big? Or is it more likely subtle cultural differences that are blown out of proportion by vested interests looking for vote banks and poll planks? I can hardly see any reason for the formation of Telengana as that place seems to have more resources and is seemingly more prosperous than the remaining Rayalseema/Andhra belt. Is it just people refusing to share their resources with the rest of the state, like Mumbai not being happy about having its money ending up with corrupt Thakurs in UP.
Oh well, its difficult for me to see the point behind all this. I guess am just an idealist thinking of bigger issues like food for 7 billion people, the amount of food that Americans consume, the number of forests they bring down, how we'll all die once the Ganges dries up or I guess am just too tired at 10 in the night and already struggling to put words together to form coherent sentences.
Guess I'll just drop and sleep now.
And now, KCR's fast divides the state all over again. I just can't get enough of the irony here! Question is, what will become of Hyderabad. Again its almost like Mumbai, developed by the Gujjus mostly it was claimed by the Marathis simply because it fell inside their state. And yes, you guessed it right! It took a lot of agitation and political arm twisting of Nehru to get that done. Hyderabad was developed as part of AP, and its now being claimed for Telengana simply because its inside that region. Its almost like they kicked Andhra out and asked them to form their own state! And again it will take a lot of agitation, fasts, suicides, self-immolations as each state stakes claim to the crown jewel.
What worries me most is what it will give rise to in other states. People around the Darjeeling-Siliguri belt have already intensified their agitation for Gorkhaland. Some are talking of Harith Pradesh. God knows where! Not sure what it will give rise to in Karnataka. Will the northerners in the Mumbai-Karnataka belt ask for their own state? Will the Kodavas rise up for their own state? I kind of feel the latter is less likely to happen, as they don't have much political influence. Saurashtra is another state that is being called for. But except for Harith Pradesh and Gorkhaland, the rest of the calls have been pretty muted, barely causing a ripple or a 2 inch mention in the papers.
Have always wondered how demands for statehood arise. Is it for genuine reasons like lack of development, like in the case of Jharkhand or Uttarakhand because the state was already too big? Or is it more likely subtle cultural differences that are blown out of proportion by vested interests looking for vote banks and poll planks? I can hardly see any reason for the formation of Telengana as that place seems to have more resources and is seemingly more prosperous than the remaining Rayalseema/Andhra belt. Is it just people refusing to share their resources with the rest of the state, like Mumbai not being happy about having its money ending up with corrupt Thakurs in UP.
Oh well, its difficult for me to see the point behind all this. I guess am just an idealist thinking of bigger issues like food for 7 billion people, the amount of food that Americans consume, the number of forests they bring down, how we'll all die once the Ganges dries up or I guess am just too tired at 10 in the night and already struggling to put words together to form coherent sentences.
Guess I'll just drop and sleep now.
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The auto driver paradox
Dec. 8th, 2009 | 02:46 pm
It was a lovely Bangalore evening, around 8:30 PM. I set out from church street with my cousins after dinner and decided to stop by for an ice cream at the place adjoining Rex. It happens to be one of those places that I tick off a list every time I visit Bangalore. The Italian delight is especially good and definitely not be missed. Of course, this time I had butter scotch, leaving the Italian one for later. With our ice creams in hand we set out to cross Residency Road and move towards Richmond Road. Plan was to continue as long as the ice creams lasted and then take an auto back home, all the way to Nagarbhavi.
We had just made it past Residency Road and crossed the weird triangle near St. Paul's when a cousin declared that he won't be able to walk a step further. All that we had dumped into our stomachs at our tongues' bidding seemed to be causing a chemical reaction, at least in my cousin's tummy. We decided not to risk the situation any further and promptly crossed the road.
Trying to cut auto costs down I made it to the front most auto manned by a guy looking like RKJ-with-hair-minus-the-weight meets Steve Buscemi. He heard all that I had to say in terms of destination location, which usually goes "Ambedkar College Nagarabhavi Mallathahalli Papareddypalya". The thing is, I stay at a place that is kind of at the intersection of all these regions and missing out any one of these usually results in the auto driver claiming that I had brought him to that very particular place, which he wouldn't have agreed to in the first place. And thus, having brought him to a place he considers cursed, and also having made him drive back a tiny distance without any girakees I would need to pay him 10 rupees more! All existence comes down eventually to the 10 rupees more.
Coming back to the topic, the auto driver, without even considering where the location was pronounced "200 rupeesh!". "Chance-a illa" said I. It had cost me Rs. 136 on the to journey to the exact same spot and I figured 150 would be a good deal for the return. "150 kodtheeni" I offered. "Sari banni" he seemed to agree and as we took some reluctant steps towards the vehicle he came back again with a counter offer "sari 190 rupees kodi". "Sumne time waste maadbedi namdu. 150ge bandre banni, illandre bere auto nodkoltheeni" I said firmly and asked the other guy behind him - "150 rupees kodtheeni, ambedkar college bartheera" I asked. The guy was on the phone and asked us to get in without as much as a "10 rs extra kodi sir". I wasn't so easily convinced and said "150 Rs". He nodded. Still not convinced I said "Nagarbhavi hathra". He nodded. "What's the world coming to! There must be some catch somewhere" thought I.
"150 Rs jaasthi Nagarbhavi circle ge" he said all of a sudden. "100 Rs aaguthe ashte". Now this was something unheard of. An autodriver telling me I was paying him more than what I should be? "130 Rs kodla" I asked. He turned back, gave me a pretty contemptible look and sighed "Nimmishta". Already on the defensive I said "sari aaythu, 150 kodtheeni", but pretty annoyed at someone questioning my knowledge of distances in Bangalore, I challenged him "100 Rs gella hogakke aagalla, at least 120 Rs aaguthe" I challenged him. "Sari meter haaktheeni, nodona" he said and did the half way left side turning back thing only auto drivers can do and set the dice rolling...er...meter going. And there began the challenge.
I realized that there was now a situation where the auto driver was trying to take the shortest routes possible, while I kept looking at the meter egging it on as it climbed higher and higher. I knew it was 10 Kms from Mysore Circle to my place so that was a benchmark for me. At Mysore Circle however, the meter read somewhere between 40-50 Rs and I knew I held a slight edge unless he took some weird shortcut.
He took the right at BHEL, which is what drivers do when they try to save time and distance, and crossed Chandra Layout and on reaching the circle close to NLS, which is some 2 KM from my place he turned back and asked "Nagarbhavi circle banthu, ellige eega?". The meter read 102 Rs exact now. "Idalla circle, AIT hathra hogbeku" said me. He didn't say a word, took a right and continued on towards AIT. When we got down, at a place where he could take a U turn, the meter read 112 Rs. Considering that I got down pretty early and that he had turned the meter on slightly late, I guessed we were close to 120 Rs, my initial estimate. I paid him the 150 bucks I had promised him, feeling pretty pleased with myself.
Of course it dawned on me later that my idea of where exactly is Nagarbhavi circle was different from his, which kind of meant that both of us were right about our estimates!
We had just made it past Residency Road and crossed the weird triangle near St. Paul's when a cousin declared that he won't be able to walk a step further. All that we had dumped into our stomachs at our tongues' bidding seemed to be causing a chemical reaction, at least in my cousin's tummy. We decided not to risk the situation any further and promptly crossed the road.
Trying to cut auto costs down I made it to the front most auto manned by a guy looking like RKJ-with-hair-minus-the-weight meets Steve Buscemi. He heard all that I had to say in terms of destination location, which usually goes "Ambedkar College Nagarabhavi Mallathahalli Papareddypalya". The thing is, I stay at a place that is kind of at the intersection of all these regions and missing out any one of these usually results in the auto driver claiming that I had brought him to that very particular place, which he wouldn't have agreed to in the first place. And thus, having brought him to a place he considers cursed, and also having made him drive back a tiny distance without any girakees I would need to pay him 10 rupees more! All existence comes down eventually to the 10 rupees more.
Coming back to the topic, the auto driver, without even considering where the location was pronounced "200 rupeesh!". "Chance-a illa" said I. It had cost me Rs. 136 on the to journey to the exact same spot and I figured 150 would be a good deal for the return. "150 kodtheeni" I offered. "Sari banni" he seemed to agree and as we took some reluctant steps towards the vehicle he came back again with a counter offer "sari 190 rupees kodi". "Sumne time waste maadbedi namdu. 150ge bandre banni, illandre bere auto nodkoltheeni" I said firmly and asked the other guy behind him - "150 rupees kodtheeni, ambedkar college bartheera" I asked. The guy was on the phone and asked us to get in without as much as a "10 rs extra kodi sir". I wasn't so easily convinced and said "150 Rs". He nodded. Still not convinced I said "Nagarbhavi hathra". He nodded. "What's the world coming to! There must be some catch somewhere" thought I.
"150 Rs jaasthi Nagarbhavi circle ge" he said all of a sudden. "100 Rs aaguthe ashte". Now this was something unheard of. An autodriver telling me I was paying him more than what I should be? "130 Rs kodla" I asked. He turned back, gave me a pretty contemptible look and sighed "Nimmishta". Already on the defensive I said "sari aaythu, 150 kodtheeni", but pretty annoyed at someone questioning my knowledge of distances in Bangalore, I challenged him "100 Rs gella hogakke aagalla, at least 120 Rs aaguthe" I challenged him. "Sari meter haaktheeni, nodona" he said and did the half way left side turning back thing only auto drivers can do and set the dice rolling...er...meter going. And there began the challenge.
I realized that there was now a situation where the auto driver was trying to take the shortest routes possible, while I kept looking at the meter egging it on as it climbed higher and higher. I knew it was 10 Kms from Mysore Circle to my place so that was a benchmark for me. At Mysore Circle however, the meter read somewhere between 40-50 Rs and I knew I held a slight edge unless he took some weird shortcut.
He took the right at BHEL, which is what drivers do when they try to save time and distance, and crossed Chandra Layout and on reaching the circle close to NLS, which is some 2 KM from my place he turned back and asked "Nagarbhavi circle banthu, ellige eega?". The meter read 102 Rs exact now. "Idalla circle, AIT hathra hogbeku" said me. He didn't say a word, took a right and continued on towards AIT. When we got down, at a place where he could take a U turn, the meter read 112 Rs. Considering that I got down pretty early and that he had turned the meter on slightly late, I guessed we were close to 120 Rs, my initial estimate. I paid him the 150 bucks I had promised him, feeling pretty pleased with myself.
Of course it dawned on me later that my idea of where exactly is Nagarbhavi circle was different from his, which kind of meant that both of us were right about our estimates!
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The untold story...
Nov. 29th, 2009 | 10:35 pm
It was a dark evening. Well, not exactly an evening, more like later afternoon. It gets pretty dark by that time during early winter. Was a chilly evening too with the ocean breeze from the Atlantic blowing in hard. The partner was still sleeping. She used to get tired a lot caring for the little ones and screaming like hell at me. There were problems. We knew that. Something told me I won't be seeing her again next spring and she's going to be laying eggs with someone else.
We were pretty much alone there. The Canadian geese had all gone. No idea where they went each winter. Maybe Canada. The lakes nearby were also empty of the quacking ducks. Good riddance! But have always wondered where they went for winter when the lake froze over? No one seems to know that. Even now. Gets people angry sometimes.
I clucked around a bit. There was news of a fox running around and being spotted by neighbors lately. So kept a low profile, as low as I could. Clucked a bit softer than usual. Food was never a problem there. Always found enough worms and stuff to eat. And by the way, let me set the record straight, the early bird never gets the worm! At least not around here. Worms here wait for the sun to go down before they even think of turning up. Causes us so much trouble. It's so friggin' cold and then can't see the damn things in the dark, and with foxes running around at nights, causes us untold miseries, what with kids and all to take care of!
Oh well, I clucked around a bit. And then I heard some noise and looked up alarmed. Turned out to be some humans collecting for something. Always wondered why they collected in such huge numbers. We never can take much of our own kind! I decided to keep a low profile as always. They never harmed us much, except when they were really struggling for food or when their chicken were struggling with some disease or fox attacks etc. Dumb birds. Always dropping dead at the drop of a hat!
But well, it's generally a good idea to keep a low profile and stay out of sight when there are humans around. You never know what they need now and what they are short of. I had survived so long and grown so big mainly because of advice like this, and a lot of low profile keeping.
I looked around for a while. No worms or any darn thing that could be called food to be found. Had to return empty mouthed to the family and face the missus! Might even get pecked around badly. (Ever heard of the phrase hen-pecked?) I was about to turn back when I saw something lying in the sand glittering. It was even moving ever so slowly! I focused all my bad eyesight on that thing. Turned out it was sunlight reflecting off a snail's shell. Now a snail is good food. But then it would also mean going out into the open and risking the humans. I decided to chuck it, keep a low profile and return to the family.
I walked along, dejected at not finding anything and wary of the missus. I saw her from afar, she was looking out for me and wasn't looking too pleased. No bird is pleased when she's hungry! I continued warily, ready to take flight if the situation demanded. And then I came into her line of sight. She lit up immediately, but I saw her expression change slowly from radiant hope to dark anger. How she knew from that distance when I had food and when I didn't, I still have no clue about. I guess its one of those things about women!
I knew this called for the escape option. But then where do I run to? In her fury she would usually not rest until she had given me a piece of her beak! With foxes and humans running around, there weren't much options open for me. I just knew what I had to do...
I went back to where I was. The snail was still there, not much headway made. Well, its a snail after all for Heaven's sake! The humans were still there and I knew it would definitely bring me into full sight of them! I looked back, the wife was actually walking over to me and God, did she look menacing?! I knew it was suicidal, but there was not much options left. I made for the snail.
The snail was lying in open ground and I had to leave the comfort and safety of the woods to get to it. I got to half the distance and was well within the open area when I heard some rustling behind me. Thought it must be the missus and knew she'd be pleased on seeing the snail and continued on. The humans where the last on my mind. The snail was easy picking. I picked it up and turned back only to see a massive human standing there!
"Captain, there ain't no geese this time of the year. Will this Turkey do?" he shouted. Geese, Turkey? How could a Turkey fill for a goose. We don't even swim in water! How dumb can the humans get! "Well, doesn't matter I guess. As long as its a bird." shouted someone from behind me.
They say your life flashes before you at the moment of your death. In my case, there was no such thing. I just ran. I ran hard, in all directions, trying to make to the missus who was standing there near the edge of the woods, happy at having seen the snail in my mouth, but quite a tad worried at what was now a dozen human beings chasing after me with sharp knives. Slowly, foot by foot I moved closer to the woods, zigging and zagging whichever direction I could avoiding all kinds of things being thrown at me!
The woods were finally within diving distance of me and I dived, and dived hard to get to relative safety. I landed hard, and stumbled through overgrown roots and ended up a mass of feathers, the snail still in my mouth. I shook myself up and looked around triumphantly, to see a human standing there looking down at me. On one hand was a knife, the other held the missus by the neck. "Happy Thanksgiving!" and the knife came sweeping down. Oh well...
PS: Started off well I guess, didn't know how to proceed and completed it by just letting my fingers free to type what they felt like. Not as good as I'd have liked it, but there it is.
We were pretty much alone there. The Canadian geese had all gone. No idea where they went each winter. Maybe Canada. The lakes nearby were also empty of the quacking ducks. Good riddance! But have always wondered where they went for winter when the lake froze over? No one seems to know that. Even now. Gets people angry sometimes.
I clucked around a bit. There was news of a fox running around and being spotted by neighbors lately. So kept a low profile, as low as I could. Clucked a bit softer than usual. Food was never a problem there. Always found enough worms and stuff to eat. And by the way, let me set the record straight, the early bird never gets the worm! At least not around here. Worms here wait for the sun to go down before they even think of turning up. Causes us so much trouble. It's so friggin' cold and then can't see the damn things in the dark, and with foxes running around at nights, causes us untold miseries, what with kids and all to take care of!
Oh well, I clucked around a bit. And then I heard some noise and looked up alarmed. Turned out to be some humans collecting for something. Always wondered why they collected in such huge numbers. We never can take much of our own kind! I decided to keep a low profile as always. They never harmed us much, except when they were really struggling for food or when their chicken were struggling with some disease or fox attacks etc. Dumb birds. Always dropping dead at the drop of a hat!
But well, it's generally a good idea to keep a low profile and stay out of sight when there are humans around. You never know what they need now and what they are short of. I had survived so long and grown so big mainly because of advice like this, and a lot of low profile keeping.
I looked around for a while. No worms or any darn thing that could be called food to be found. Had to return empty mouthed to the family and face the missus! Might even get pecked around badly. (Ever heard of the phrase hen-pecked?) I was about to turn back when I saw something lying in the sand glittering. It was even moving ever so slowly! I focused all my bad eyesight on that thing. Turned out it was sunlight reflecting off a snail's shell. Now a snail is good food. But then it would also mean going out into the open and risking the humans. I decided to chuck it, keep a low profile and return to the family.
I walked along, dejected at not finding anything and wary of the missus. I saw her from afar, she was looking out for me and wasn't looking too pleased. No bird is pleased when she's hungry! I continued warily, ready to take flight if the situation demanded. And then I came into her line of sight. She lit up immediately, but I saw her expression change slowly from radiant hope to dark anger. How she knew from that distance when I had food and when I didn't, I still have no clue about. I guess its one of those things about women!
I knew this called for the escape option. But then where do I run to? In her fury she would usually not rest until she had given me a piece of her beak! With foxes and humans running around, there weren't much options open for me. I just knew what I had to do...
I went back to where I was. The snail was still there, not much headway made. Well, its a snail after all for Heaven's sake! The humans were still there and I knew it would definitely bring me into full sight of them! I looked back, the wife was actually walking over to me and God, did she look menacing?! I knew it was suicidal, but there was not much options left. I made for the snail.
The snail was lying in open ground and I had to leave the comfort and safety of the woods to get to it. I got to half the distance and was well within the open area when I heard some rustling behind me. Thought it must be the missus and knew she'd be pleased on seeing the snail and continued on. The humans where the last on my mind. The snail was easy picking. I picked it up and turned back only to see a massive human standing there!
"Captain, there ain't no geese this time of the year. Will this Turkey do?" he shouted. Geese, Turkey? How could a Turkey fill for a goose. We don't even swim in water! How dumb can the humans get! "Well, doesn't matter I guess. As long as its a bird." shouted someone from behind me.
They say your life flashes before you at the moment of your death. In my case, there was no such thing. I just ran. I ran hard, in all directions, trying to make to the missus who was standing there near the edge of the woods, happy at having seen the snail in my mouth, but quite a tad worried at what was now a dozen human beings chasing after me with sharp knives. Slowly, foot by foot I moved closer to the woods, zigging and zagging whichever direction I could avoiding all kinds of things being thrown at me!
The woods were finally within diving distance of me and I dived, and dived hard to get to relative safety. I landed hard, and stumbled through overgrown roots and ended up a mass of feathers, the snail still in my mouth. I shook myself up and looked around triumphantly, to see a human standing there looking down at me. On one hand was a knife, the other held the missus by the neck. "Happy Thanksgiving!" and the knife came sweeping down. Oh well...
PS: Started off well I guess, didn't know how to proceed and completed it by just letting my fingers free to type what they felt like. Not as good as I'd have liked it, but there it is.
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Are you kidding me?!
Nov. 16th, 2009 | 04:59 pm
From the TOI, for IPL 2010:
Seriously, what are they thinking?! Ensure that bowlers don't have any chance at all?!
How about more interesting rules?
1. No more yorkers.
2. Steve Bucknor will officiate in all matches and will be asked to consider as bowlers as Indians.
3. Bowlers need to concede at least one four an over to keep up spectator interest.
4. Even if the wicket and conditions encourage lateral movement or spin and bounce, bowlers will avoid making use of the conditions. Actually, strike that. Just ensure they don't play in Delhi and don't leave the country.
Somehow Lalit Modi seems to be a man with a wonderfully twisted sense of humour.
Oh well, I guess am just overreacting. It's the TOI remember!
New rules in play
1. Four fielding substitutes; only 4 overseas players on the field at any point of time
2. Any ball bowled above waist height will be declared a no-ball
3. Pink balls in practice matches
4. Non-availability of players after signing of contracts to be dealt with seriously
1. Four fielding substitutes; only 4 overseas players on the field at any point of time
2. Any ball bowled above waist height will be declared a no-ball
3. Pink balls in practice matches
4. Non-availability of players after signing of contracts to be dealt with seriously
Seriously, what are they thinking?! Ensure that bowlers don't have any chance at all?!
How about more interesting rules?
1. No more yorkers.
2. Steve Bucknor will officiate in all matches and will be asked to consider as bowlers as Indians.
3. Bowlers need to concede at least one four an over to keep up spectator interest.
4. Even if the wicket and conditions encourage lateral movement or spin and bounce, bowlers will avoid making use of the conditions. Actually, strike that. Just ensure they don't play in Delhi and don't leave the country.
Somehow Lalit Modi seems to be a man with a wonderfully twisted sense of humour.
Oh well, I guess am just overreacting. It's the TOI remember!
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And I too fell...
Nov. 11th, 2009 | 11:47 pm
It's been on my mind for too long now. Didn't help that quite a few of my friends had already gone that way. Almost everyday I was exposed to it and it's awesomeness. Slowly I realized that it was just a matter of time before I went that way. Question was always how more than a when.
Oh well. Finally decided to take the plunge and went and got myself an iPhone and this is my first post from it. The app sure sucks like LJ itself. But still am plodding through it. Tilting it doesn't help as the app does not scroll down enough.
Not on a contract though. Bought a used, unlocked one and using with wifi. So there. And yes I love it!
Oh well. Finally decided to take the plunge and went and got myself an iPhone and this is my first post from it. The app sure sucks like LJ itself. But still am plodding through it. Tilting it doesn't help as the app does not scroll down enough.
Not on a contract though. Bought a used, unlocked one and using with wifi. So there. And yes I love it!
Posted via LiveJournal.app.
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Reading....reading.....oh well...
Nov. 7th, 2009 | 04:31 pm
Been a while since I read. Read anything actually. I tried to go spiritual with 'Autobiography of a yogi'. Turned out to be slightly disappointing for me. More of miracles performed by different yogis than their words or thoughts. Maybe I had to see and understand through the miracles, and maybe I was just too dumb for that and wanted more on thoughts that I could analyze, dissent or assimilate. Either way, I couldn't finish it. Maybe will take it up later, not sure.
Then there was a really barren phase when I read nothing at all for a few months. Managed to plod through 97 pages of 'A Christmas Carrol' by Dickens. Was good, but thought I wasn't really the target audience for that. The characters were too black and white for my liking. Maybe am just a cynic looking for shades of grey in everything I see and read, and some depth to things.
Now started off on 1984 by George Orwell. Managed to read like 5 pages so far. Sounds good. Like the language and the way he describes things. Might just be a good read to get me out of this self imposed...stagnation, you could say.
Have some pages left of Fountainhead too which I started reading more than a year back and read only when am on flights. Why, I don't know. But helps me fine on flights. But really hope to get back to reading. Considering that it is going to be winter soon, I guess a return to reading is only inevitable. The perennial rains, clouds, coldness paint a nice gloomy picture that is best exploited by reading something nice, deep and probably cynical/gloomy.
Then there was a really barren phase when I read nothing at all for a few months. Managed to plod through 97 pages of 'A Christmas Carrol' by Dickens. Was good, but thought I wasn't really the target audience for that. The characters were too black and white for my liking. Maybe am just a cynic looking for shades of grey in everything I see and read, and some depth to things.
Now started off on 1984 by George Orwell. Managed to read like 5 pages so far. Sounds good. Like the language and the way he describes things. Might just be a good read to get me out of this self imposed...stagnation, you could say.
Have some pages left of Fountainhead too which I started reading more than a year back and read only when am on flights. Why, I don't know. But helps me fine on flights. But really hope to get back to reading. Considering that it is going to be winter soon, I guess a return to reading is only inevitable. The perennial rains, clouds, coldness paint a nice gloomy picture that is best exploited by reading something nice, deep and probably cynical/gloomy.
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Spidey!
Oct. 31st, 2009 | 07:29 pm
He woke up one fine evening. It was winter, the house's primary occupant hadn't returned yet which meant the heater wasn't on yet. He went back to sleep. A while later he sensed the door being opened. And closed. The man was back! Within a few minutes he could sense the heat in the house and decided it was time to start proceedings for the day. He woke himself up laboriously, all 8 legs reluctantly overcoming their passiveness. A long night lay ahead for them.
He had lived there ever since he had been born, which wasn't too long. All of his family had perished around the time the new occupant had moved in. He had learnt that that was the case with all spider families around that place. They lived and flourished from move in to move out. A move-out usually signaled a cleaning of the house by the owners which finished out most of their populace. Still they survived just enough to ensure there were enough of them to survive the next clean up. Keeping the species going was an important duty.
( Read on )
He had lived there ever since he had been born, which wasn't too long. All of his family had perished around the time the new occupant had moved in. He had learnt that that was the case with all spider families around that place. They lived and flourished from move in to move out. A move-out usually signaled a cleaning of the house by the owners which finished out most of their populace. Still they survived just enough to ensure there were enough of them to survive the next clean up. Keeping the species going was an important duty.
( Read on )
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2 years...
Oct. 28th, 2009 | 10:50 pm
Going to be a pointless post, so if you are not feeling like it, better skip it. Read ahead at your own peril.
There, I warned you. Now for the pointlessness.
Been 2 years to the date since I turned up in this country. I made a post about completing one year. So thought its only right and proper to make another one about completing 2 years. So how was this year compared to the last one? For one, I had more money to spend, the loan being a thing of the past. Still there was this reluctance to let it flow out of my pockets. Dark clouds of recession kept me in check, making me save for the rainy days. I even chalked out a plan to travel around India if I were to lose my job and return home in a hurry.
Talking of recession, last time it happened, I was just out of college and had to see my friends struggling to find jobs. This year, I was just out of grad school, ok, around a year or so, and again saw friends struggling to find jobs. Strange! Last time I just escaped to China hoping that they do well. This time though, hoping to be there for them more.
Less traveling, still yet to go east. Kept going to California - 3 consecutive months in fact and loved every one of those trips - different experiences each of them. Most importantly, parents came to the US. First trip out of the country for them. They seemed to have fun and loved it.
Work-wise, still doing the same job I was doing end of last year. Not sure if that's a good thing or bad. Good, as am getting more depth on what I am doing, and bad as I don't seem to be learning much new. Also, want some change myself.
More regular at the gym now. Got my shoulder working again, good enough to bowl at a decent pace. Happy about being able to rattle stumps with the perfect yorkers again.
Not sure what the next year has in store for me, but I guess I'll be in a different place when I sit down to write about another year gone, or will this date still be an anniversary for me? If only I had swalpave swalpa hindsight.
Well, told ya! Its a pointless post. Wait for the next one, will make up for it. Till then...
There, I warned you. Now for the pointlessness.
Been 2 years to the date since I turned up in this country. I made a post about completing one year. So thought its only right and proper to make another one about completing 2 years. So how was this year compared to the last one? For one, I had more money to spend, the loan being a thing of the past. Still there was this reluctance to let it flow out of my pockets. Dark clouds of recession kept me in check, making me save for the rainy days. I even chalked out a plan to travel around India if I were to lose my job and return home in a hurry.
Talking of recession, last time it happened, I was just out of college and had to see my friends struggling to find jobs. This year, I was just out of grad school, ok, around a year or so, and again saw friends struggling to find jobs. Strange! Last time I just escaped to China hoping that they do well. This time though, hoping to be there for them more.
Less traveling, still yet to go east. Kept going to California - 3 consecutive months in fact and loved every one of those trips - different experiences each of them. Most importantly, parents came to the US. First trip out of the country for them. They seemed to have fun and loved it.
Work-wise, still doing the same job I was doing end of last year. Not sure if that's a good thing or bad. Good, as am getting more depth on what I am doing, and bad as I don't seem to be learning much new. Also, want some change myself.
More regular at the gym now. Got my shoulder working again, good enough to bowl at a decent pace. Happy about being able to rattle stumps with the perfect yorkers again.
Not sure what the next year has in store for me, but I guess I'll be in a different place when I sit down to write about another year gone, or will this date still be an anniversary for me? If only I had swalpave swalpa hindsight.
Well, told ya! Its a pointless post. Wait for the next one, will make up for it. Till then...
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Its fall...
Oct. 19th, 2009 | 07:34 pm
The trees are painted red and yellow. Its like a new world out there. The temperature dips just a tad hovering at the edge of comfortable and pleasant, and chilly. You can sense the wan chill in the air, waiting for its cue and the last of the red and yellow leaves to drop before it can take over and pull down the veil over the year.
All eyes are on the new year, wondering what it will bring. There is optimism. There is hope. The worst might just be over. It might be time to look ahead.
Yes, its not altogether bright and lovely. A friend lost his job a few weeks back and is trying to find another one. Another looks at the wee number of companies that turn up at campus. But while 6 months back, all that there was to hear was stories of number of job cuts in each company and big businesses shutting down, now the same stories are just whispers down corridors.
I haven't blogged in a long while now. 3 weeks is a reasonable amount of time for the words in the last post to start feeling like they were written by someone else. For once am starting with a more positive post instead of looking back to memories of stray dogs on the streets or lonely people depressed or dying.
I know I want to blog more, about little things, even little posts. And no, am not coming into Twitter. 140 words is too small for me. Have already cut down on Facebook and orkut time and spend less and less time online. I could consider this a big win, except that this time is spent watching TV now :). So yes, really hoping to blog more, maybe once a week at least. Will definitely try that.
And yes, will share pics of the glorious fall here. Fall is probably one word I've taken to from American over the proper English Autumn. Its got a better ring to it than Autumn, which sounds a tad, well, solemn.
P.S: Pardon the clichés. I know I can kill with them sometimes.
All eyes are on the new year, wondering what it will bring. There is optimism. There is hope. The worst might just be over. It might be time to look ahead.
Yes, its not altogether bright and lovely. A friend lost his job a few weeks back and is trying to find another one. Another looks at the wee number of companies that turn up at campus. But while 6 months back, all that there was to hear was stories of number of job cuts in each company and big businesses shutting down, now the same stories are just whispers down corridors.
I haven't blogged in a long while now. 3 weeks is a reasonable amount of time for the words in the last post to start feeling like they were written by someone else. For once am starting with a more positive post instead of looking back to memories of stray dogs on the streets or lonely people depressed or dying.
I know I want to blog more, about little things, even little posts. And no, am not coming into Twitter. 140 words is too small for me. Have already cut down on Facebook and orkut time and spend less and less time online. I could consider this a big win, except that this time is spent watching TV now :). So yes, really hoping to blog more, maybe once a week at least. Will definitely try that.
And yes, will share pics of the glorious fall here. Fall is probably one word I've taken to from American over the proper English Autumn. Its got a better ring to it than Autumn, which sounds a tad, well, solemn.
P.S: Pardon the clichés. I know I can kill with them sometimes.
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Canine tales
Sep. 29th, 2009 | 10:05 pm
You have never really experienced Bangalore if you haven't had any encounters of the canine kind. Of course am talking of the more harmless kinds where you live to tell the tale and laugh about it without being emotionally or physically scarred for the rest of your life. The thing about Bangalore is that, no matter where you go, you are never far from a stray canine interested in looking you up.
Growing up in Bangalore has lent me its share of weird encounters. When in school, there were the ones lying in the pavilions around the school ground, mocking us with the ease of their lives and the amount of time they could just sleep, while we had to deal with cane-wielding teachers ready to dole out the thwacks. All of them were mostly harmless, except for one or two which friends characterized as rabid, which never really scared any one until we reached 8th when we were made to learn by-heart that rabies kills people! Needless to say, every dog on the ground assumed a status straight out of a Stephen King novel!
( Read on... )
Growing up in Bangalore has lent me its share of weird encounters. When in school, there were the ones lying in the pavilions around the school ground, mocking us with the ease of their lives and the amount of time they could just sleep, while we had to deal with cane-wielding teachers ready to dole out the thwacks. All of them were mostly harmless, except for one or two which friends characterized as rabid, which never really scared any one until we reached 8th when we were made to learn by-heart that rabies kills people! Needless to say, every dog on the ground assumed a status straight out of a Stephen King novel!
( Read on... )
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My elusive roomie...
Sep. 9th, 2009 | 09:34 pm
I sat there on the couch, nothing much to do, bored of everything. It was almost evening and the Sun had almost set. I was too lazy to turn the lights on and was pretty much sitting in darkness, my mind clouded, hazy, fighting off sleep for no reason. It was a Sunday which made it worse. The prospect of getting up early the next day and heading off to work in the pouring rain and the gloominess it brought along sucked out any ounce of hope or cheer in me. A cup of coffee seemed to be a good idea. And then the thought of going into the kitchen and staring at all the vessels lying in the sink defeated any urge to get up. They had been lying there for close to 48 hours now. All my roommate's doing. I had grown tired of cleaning up after him. Sometimes I wondered if I should move out. But then what if I felt lonely and bored there?! I'll just have myself to blame and not the roommate.
We had been staying together for close to a year now. Almost the end of the lease. Another month before I'd have to decide on either declaring freedom or maintaining the status quo for another year. I knew he had no idea of moving out by himself and was looking forward to renewing the lease with me. I was perfect for him - a doormat who never brought himself to stand up for what he believed in or even find the courage to say what he wanted to, putting up with all kinds of shit and cringing and cribbing to himself and writing it all in a blog which he never found the courage to share with anyone else for fear that the roommate might find out.
( Read on... )
We had been staying together for close to a year now. Almost the end of the lease. Another month before I'd have to decide on either declaring freedom or maintaining the status quo for another year. I knew he had no idea of moving out by himself and was looking forward to renewing the lease with me. I was perfect for him - a doormat who never brought himself to stand up for what he believed in or even find the courage to say what he wanted to, putting up with all kinds of shit and cringing and cribbing to himself and writing it all in a blog which he never found the courage to share with anyone else for fear that the roommate might find out.
( Read on... )
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Sorry, no eulogies from me...
Sep. 4th, 2009 | 09:53 pm
Its been amazing the amount of eulogies seen on the internet concerning YSR's death in the chopper crash. To be honest, I had no idea about his governance and what he had done in general. The number of eulogies and people praising him all around kind of lead me to believe he was a really able leader and it must have been a loss for us to lose him at what might be considered a peak age for Indian politicians.
And then I came across this article, written 5 years ago, thanks to this blog(which I recommend adding to your list of blogs in case you haven't already). Criminals and rowdies in politics is unfortunately a given. Still makes me wonder, did we need to eulogize someone so much? In times when we are ready to question a Narendra Modi, and rightly so, for communal violence and genocide, are we ready to forgive and sing paeans to people who only kill for their own greed and for power, only because, well, which politician doesn't do that!
Death unfortunately is a great leveler and does make us forget people for all the wrong they did. A Gundu Rao's crimes as a rowdy were forgotten and he became a hero. Extrapolating this, maybe we should have mourned Veerappan's death. At least he increased the forest cover around the Karnataka/TN/Kerala border. Am not saying we need to go and spit on their graves for all they did. All am asking for is a slight tone down on the eulogies for politicians who don't deserve them. Let's not forget their roots.
The media, for its part, was doing the right thing with Modi, until it got a bit carried away to the point of being biased and conceding the advantage. Keeping an elected leader on tenterhooks is a good thing. But when it comes to crimes which are not communal its unsettlingly silent about those. Such news, after all does not generate as much TRPs or interest. Eventually we get the leaders we deserve and the news we are interested in.
Interesting times we live in...
P.S: With 124 people dead, YSR's death has pushed Swine flu to second place(111)...
And then I came across this article, written 5 years ago, thanks to this blog(which I recommend adding to your list of blogs in case you haven't already). Criminals and rowdies in politics is unfortunately a given. Still makes me wonder, did we need to eulogize someone so much? In times when we are ready to question a Narendra Modi, and rightly so, for communal violence and genocide, are we ready to forgive and sing paeans to people who only kill for their own greed and for power, only because, well, which politician doesn't do that!
Death unfortunately is a great leveler and does make us forget people for all the wrong they did. A Gundu Rao's crimes as a rowdy were forgotten and he became a hero. Extrapolating this, maybe we should have mourned Veerappan's death. At least he increased the forest cover around the Karnataka/TN/Kerala border. Am not saying we need to go and spit on their graves for all they did. All am asking for is a slight tone down on the eulogies for politicians who don't deserve them. Let's not forget their roots.
The media, for its part, was doing the right thing with Modi, until it got a bit carried away to the point of being biased and conceding the advantage. Keeping an elected leader on tenterhooks is a good thing. But when it comes to crimes which are not communal its unsettlingly silent about those. Such news, after all does not generate as much TRPs or interest. Eventually we get the leaders we deserve and the news we are interested in.
Interesting times we live in...
P.S: With 124 people dead, YSR's death has pushed Swine flu to second place(111)...
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":P"?!!
Sep. 2nd, 2009 | 10:55 pm
I have a weird habit. I guess it might be common to most of the lot who own and maintain blogs. I read through previous posts and their comments, and my replies to those comments. For me, it also works as a form of proof reading, and I promptly correct mistakes - grammatical or typos or even better phrases in posts posted months or years back buried below some 30-40 new posts.
Of course livejournal does not let me edit comments, but only posts. And I noticed something weird in my comments. Nope, not the comments that people write, but my response to them.
Almost, nope not almost, all my comments over the past few months include a ':P'. Its almost like a teenager posting 'stuff'. Here's a resolution, a three-quarter year one - no more ':P's in any of my comments from now on. In fact I'll desist from using any smileys for a while (but the normal ':)'s can flow I guess, sound serious otherwise saying Thanks to friends complimenting me on nice posts). I don't really need to behave like a man who tries to please all all the time. Reminds me of the printer Natraj from the Man-eater of Malgudi.
Of course livejournal does not let me edit comments, but only posts. And I noticed something weird in my comments. Nope, not the comments that people write, but my response to them.
Almost, nope not almost, all my comments over the past few months include a ':P'. Its almost like a teenager posting 'stuff'. Here's a resolution, a three-quarter year one - no more ':P's in any of my comments from now on. In fact I'll desist from using any smileys for a while (but the normal ':)'s can flow I guess, sound serious otherwise saying Thanks to friends complimenting me on nice posts). I don't really need to behave like a man who tries to please all all the time. Reminds me of the printer Natraj from the Man-eater of Malgudi.
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Where do they go from here?
Aug. 29th, 2009 | 09:19 pm
I said it before, that the BJP was a one horse show. The BJP entered its end after 2004 when they were done in by the anti-incumbency. The killer blow was Vajpayee retiring from active politics and the party not being able to move on from there. Advani still held on to dreams of becoming the PM. I can't imagine a worse thing happening. A PM who is 82, and finishing his term at the real ripe age of 87!
He had his chances of moving on, realizing that he was doomed to be the eternal bridesmaid. But then, I guess it was senility, or the kind of clouded thinking that pushes bowlers to one-more-over when they are clearly getting kicked all over the place. Sometimes it is difficult to realize that your time is up and its just not meant to be today. To say that he should have retired from politics or moved on and become some kind of chief mentor would be forgetting history.
Here was a man who's been in active politics for more than 50 years, all the way from 1957. And everytime his party came close to power and even when it came to power, he had to play second fiddle to Vajpayee. His only chance came in 2009 where he could emerge from his shadows and proclaim himself the PM-designate. Somehow the voters did not buy it. Whether he would have made a good PM or not is not the question. He might have, you never know. But it was not to be.
Somehow he still hung on to the leader of the opposition role, which is pretty much the PM's shadow in the parliament. Now that, was where he went wrong. Usually the leader of the opposition is expected to be the PM's main opponent for the next elections. Was Advani seriously thinking of hoping to lead the country at the age of 87?! Its worse than Ricky Ponting proclaiming a return to England in 2013 to win the Ashes there. I agree politics is a weird place. You spend a whole lifetime thinking this is going to be it every election, living in the dream of the gaddi. But at 87? That would be injustice on the country and the populace can definitely not be convinced that an 87 year old man can be the PM.
Comparisons to Sonia Gandhi almost becoming the PM and relinquishing it are inevitable and can be thrown at Advani. But one needs to realize that while in the case of Sonia Gandhi, she was thrust into the middle only because of her surname and whom she married and spent the best part of her life away from politics, Advani spent his entire lifetime, if I may say so, in politics. Its not so easy to walk away from it when you've spent a lifetime dreaming of it.
And well, now what has it lead to. Is the mess the BJP finds itself in something that can be cleaned away? Can they hope that time will heal and people will vote for them again? The best thing about the BJP, if nothing else, was that they gave an alternative to the Congress, and in the 6 years they were in power, they showed that they could rule!
Their main stalwarts are gone - Jaswanth Singh, Arun Shourie and Yashwant Sinha. All that leaves is one Arun Jaitley who's plunged even the DDCA into a nice mess, a Sushma Swaraj who finds herself being marginalized again (the pitting against Sonia Gandhi kind of was her Waterloo), and the RSS. The rest of the party finds itself mostly on the wrong side of 75.
The only hope, if they can find any, comes from the Congress. 1999 was when the Congress found itself at their lowest. Most of the states out of their kitty, their worst showing ever in a general election, no leader in sight, clinging on to a dynasty and a surname. And then 2004 happened! The main thing that worked for the Congress was the people in the party. They still continued to attract the right kind and had people who could administer and rule, if not win elections with their charisma like the Nehru family or even like Vajpayee.
What has come out is probably that the time of the charismatic leaders is over. It might just be left to good governance and anti-incumbency and stable coalitions to decide who wins the day and the 5 years hence. All I can hope is that something comes out of the way the BJP is self-destructing. Maybe a good lesson, or a revamp which brings in a second option to the Congress. History has shown that there is nothing worse than a party without a meaningful and challenging opposition.
He had his chances of moving on, realizing that he was doomed to be the eternal bridesmaid. But then, I guess it was senility, or the kind of clouded thinking that pushes bowlers to one-more-over when they are clearly getting kicked all over the place. Sometimes it is difficult to realize that your time is up and its just not meant to be today. To say that he should have retired from politics or moved on and become some kind of chief mentor would be forgetting history.
Here was a man who's been in active politics for more than 50 years, all the way from 1957. And everytime his party came close to power and even when it came to power, he had to play second fiddle to Vajpayee. His only chance came in 2009 where he could emerge from his shadows and proclaim himself the PM-designate. Somehow the voters did not buy it. Whether he would have made a good PM or not is not the question. He might have, you never know. But it was not to be.
Somehow he still hung on to the leader of the opposition role, which is pretty much the PM's shadow in the parliament. Now that, was where he went wrong. Usually the leader of the opposition is expected to be the PM's main opponent for the next elections. Was Advani seriously thinking of hoping to lead the country at the age of 87?! Its worse than Ricky Ponting proclaiming a return to England in 2013 to win the Ashes there. I agree politics is a weird place. You spend a whole lifetime thinking this is going to be it every election, living in the dream of the gaddi. But at 87? That would be injustice on the country and the populace can definitely not be convinced that an 87 year old man can be the PM.
Comparisons to Sonia Gandhi almost becoming the PM and relinquishing it are inevitable and can be thrown at Advani. But one needs to realize that while in the case of Sonia Gandhi, she was thrust into the middle only because of her surname and whom she married and spent the best part of her life away from politics, Advani spent his entire lifetime, if I may say so, in politics. Its not so easy to walk away from it when you've spent a lifetime dreaming of it.
And well, now what has it lead to. Is the mess the BJP finds itself in something that can be cleaned away? Can they hope that time will heal and people will vote for them again? The best thing about the BJP, if nothing else, was that they gave an alternative to the Congress, and in the 6 years they were in power, they showed that they could rule!
Their main stalwarts are gone - Jaswanth Singh, Arun Shourie and Yashwant Sinha. All that leaves is one Arun Jaitley who's plunged even the DDCA into a nice mess, a Sushma Swaraj who finds herself being marginalized again (the pitting against Sonia Gandhi kind of was her Waterloo), and the RSS. The rest of the party finds itself mostly on the wrong side of 75.
The only hope, if they can find any, comes from the Congress. 1999 was when the Congress found itself at their lowest. Most of the states out of their kitty, their worst showing ever in a general election, no leader in sight, clinging on to a dynasty and a surname. And then 2004 happened! The main thing that worked for the Congress was the people in the party. They still continued to attract the right kind and had people who could administer and rule, if not win elections with their charisma like the Nehru family or even like Vajpayee.
What has come out is probably that the time of the charismatic leaders is over. It might just be left to good governance and anti-incumbency and stable coalitions to decide who wins the day and the 5 years hence. All I can hope is that something comes out of the way the BJP is self-destructing. Maybe a good lesson, or a revamp which brings in a second option to the Congress. History has shown that there is nothing worse than a party without a meaningful and challenging opposition.
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The joke...
Aug. 8th, 2009 | 11:18 am
He lay there on his bed. Unable to move, opening his eyes ever so slightly, looking around. The room was his own, full of memories. Of a life of struggle, against himself, against an ever growing grey shadow of gloom. The eyes closed again.
He stood there on the stage, watching the audience break into raptures, controlling them with laser-like precision, deciding when they should laugh, when they should listen, improvising at times, but sticking to his script for the most part. The audience followed, like a herd of sheep controlled by the moving Sun and the bent shepherd's staff. They listened, they laughed. At the end of the show, they had their fill, some in tears. Troubled marriages, broken careers, skewered ambitions, all forgotten for a brief hour.
The eyes opened. "Do you need anything sir?" asked the nurse. The head shook ever so slightly. What would a man with tubes inserted into him need? Could they ever get him what he needed? The love he never experienced, the family he never had, someone who would cry when he left the world, or just give him the final shove over the cliff? He closed his eyes again.
Life had been a cruel joke. He had managed to build an empire. People talked of him as the most successful comedian ever. But it had always been lonely at the top.
The nurse was still there hovering around him impatiently, as if she expected him to go any moment and just wanted to get it over with. Someone paid to serve will only serve enough to be paid. He laughed at his own joke, but there was no one to laugh with him and he knew no one would have laughed at it.
It was no age to die. He was only 40. But there was no will to live on. There was nothing to go back to. He had seen everything he wanted to. Traveled around the world twice. Done all the things on everyone's things to do before you die list. Still there was something missing. If he ever got up there would be the same people, the same faces to look at and deal with. And he suspected they were all hoping he would die. He knew he was like the golden duck that had laid all its eggs, and all they were waiting for was his death, so that they could sell the golden flesh. Was that enough to fight for? That would take extreme sadism from him, and he knew he was no sadist. He had been cruel to people, but never a sadist.
The nurse was calling the doctor. "...heart rate is dropping..." he heard her say. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was finally the moment for him. They say your life flashes before you at the moment of your death. So he looked back. There was nothing worth it. A childhood where he was hunted by bullies and abused by his father. An adolescence where he fought starvation and the cold, having been discarded by his father. A youth, where he managed to see the funny side of it all. And a middle age where he built an empire with just that.
"Maybe there's something better waiting for me". He closed his eyes waiting for it, hoping for a long sleep in peace. The nurse was now frantic. Suddenly the door burst open and people in white coats and blue scrubs burst in. It took them just a couple of minutes to realize there was nothing they could do. The sheet was pulled over his face by the intern who had tagged along.
There was a cough, more of a hack. They looked at each other. They turned towards him. He was hacking away. The heart rate was slowly picking up heading up to normal. He looked around, still unable to move. Even death had been a cruel joke...
P.S: Just trying out stuff, hold off on sympathies and life advice :P
He stood there on the stage, watching the audience break into raptures, controlling them with laser-like precision, deciding when they should laugh, when they should listen, improvising at times, but sticking to his script for the most part. The audience followed, like a herd of sheep controlled by the moving Sun and the bent shepherd's staff. They listened, they laughed. At the end of the show, they had their fill, some in tears. Troubled marriages, broken careers, skewered ambitions, all forgotten for a brief hour.
The eyes opened. "Do you need anything sir?" asked the nurse. The head shook ever so slightly. What would a man with tubes inserted into him need? Could they ever get him what he needed? The love he never experienced, the family he never had, someone who would cry when he left the world, or just give him the final shove over the cliff? He closed his eyes again.
Life had been a cruel joke. He had managed to build an empire. People talked of him as the most successful comedian ever. But it had always been lonely at the top.
The nurse was still there hovering around him impatiently, as if she expected him to go any moment and just wanted to get it over with. Someone paid to serve will only serve enough to be paid. He laughed at his own joke, but there was no one to laugh with him and he knew no one would have laughed at it.
It was no age to die. He was only 40. But there was no will to live on. There was nothing to go back to. He had seen everything he wanted to. Traveled around the world twice. Done all the things on everyone's things to do before you die list. Still there was something missing. If he ever got up there would be the same people, the same faces to look at and deal with. And he suspected they were all hoping he would die. He knew he was like the golden duck that had laid all its eggs, and all they were waiting for was his death, so that they could sell the golden flesh. Was that enough to fight for? That would take extreme sadism from him, and he knew he was no sadist. He had been cruel to people, but never a sadist.
The nurse was calling the doctor. "...heart rate is dropping..." he heard her say. Maybe this was it. Maybe it was finally the moment for him. They say your life flashes before you at the moment of your death. So he looked back. There was nothing worth it. A childhood where he was hunted by bullies and abused by his father. An adolescence where he fought starvation and the cold, having been discarded by his father. A youth, where he managed to see the funny side of it all. And a middle age where he built an empire with just that.
"Maybe there's something better waiting for me". He closed his eyes waiting for it, hoping for a long sleep in peace. The nurse was now frantic. Suddenly the door burst open and people in white coats and blue scrubs burst in. It took them just a couple of minutes to realize there was nothing they could do. The sheet was pulled over his face by the intern who had tagged along.
There was a cough, more of a hack. They looked at each other. They turned towards him. He was hacking away. The heart rate was slowly picking up heading up to normal. He looked around, still unable to move. Even death had been a cruel joke...
P.S: Just trying out stuff, hold off on sympathies and life advice :P
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The 100th one
Jul. 21st, 2009 | 11:05 pm
Yes. Finally! Its taken all of 4 years, 4 months and 4 days to compile a 100 posts. I wonder if there is a change. And then I look back to the first one and realize, not much at all. Am still a drifter. I sat in office, not much work to do, as I decided to create a blog, just to kill time and now, I still sit in office, not much work to do, but refuse to kill time blogging.
To be honest more than a refusal, its a lack of creativity. Every time there's a post there's the unasked and unspoken question, what next? Where's the next one going to come from? Sometimes I wonder if I should leave it up to providence and not worry about it. Is it a severe lack of confidence in my abilities or is it just a lack of trust in whatever it is or Whoever it is, that gives me ideas or is it the fear that I might be exposing parts of me, parts which I know exist, but who's existence I refuse to acknowledge, preferring to bury my head like an Ostrich.
A lot has happened since I started blogging. My last grandparent passed away. I left home, wandering the planet like a nomad. Australia and then the US, wondering if my next destination will indeed be what I want it to be. Something tells me I've grown, something in the way I go about life everyday, not just the weighing machine. But still I wonder, like those days 4 years back, where am headed, whether it'll be a place I'll love. Some constants, some changes, some constantly changing...
To be honest more than a refusal, its a lack of creativity. Every time there's a post there's the unasked and unspoken question, what next? Where's the next one going to come from? Sometimes I wonder if I should leave it up to providence and not worry about it. Is it a severe lack of confidence in my abilities or is it just a lack of trust in whatever it is or Whoever it is, that gives me ideas or is it the fear that I might be exposing parts of me, parts which I know exist, but who's existence I refuse to acknowledge, preferring to bury my head like an Ostrich.
A lot has happened since I started blogging. My last grandparent passed away. I left home, wandering the planet like a nomad. Australia and then the US, wondering if my next destination will indeed be what I want it to be. Something tells me I've grown, something in the way I go about life everyday, not just the weighing machine. But still I wonder, like those days 4 years back, where am headed, whether it'll be a place I'll love. Some constants, some changes, some constantly changing...
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Ladies' man...
Jul. 10th, 2009 | 08:17 pm
It was a crazy morning. Crazy because I was already running late, really late, to work and I needed to be in by 10:00 AM or be part of an embarrassing email sent to every employee about the late-comings and early-goings of everyone in the company. Plus I'd also have to deal with an ass of a manager who'd harangue me about being late and not getting stuff done. The problem with staying far off and traveling by BMTC buses has always been about having to leave at a particular time and not being able to afford missing a bus!
I saw the bus, it was a good 100m behind me as I made my way to the bus stop. Phew! But the problem was, I had to go another good 100m to be able to make it to the bus. I waved, hoping the driver might be kind enough to stop for me. I saw him look at me. The expression changed, from absolute indifference to absolute sadistic indifference. The bus revved up and picked up speed as it tried to ensure that there was no chance I'd ever get to it. I hesitated just a moment before I knew what I had to do. I ran! I ran as fast as I could. The bus came to a halt and it was close to 80m in front of me and I knew the driver was waiting to step on the pedal and fly away leaving me panting at the stop waiting for the next bus which usually turns up like 15 minutes later, but gets me to work like 30 mins later! I was desperate to the point of forgetting that I cannot run more than 50m without feeling dizzy.
( Read on... )
I saw the bus, it was a good 100m behind me as I made my way to the bus stop. Phew! But the problem was, I had to go another good 100m to be able to make it to the bus. I waved, hoping the driver might be kind enough to stop for me. I saw him look at me. The expression changed, from absolute indifference to absolute sadistic indifference. The bus revved up and picked up speed as it tried to ensure that there was no chance I'd ever get to it. I hesitated just a moment before I knew what I had to do. I ran! I ran as fast as I could. The bus came to a halt and it was close to 80m in front of me and I knew the driver was waiting to step on the pedal and fly away leaving me panting at the stop waiting for the next bus which usually turns up like 15 minutes later, but gets me to work like 30 mins later! I was desperate to the point of forgetting that I cannot run more than 50m without feeling dizzy.
( Read on... )
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Hola from San Diego
Jul. 5th, 2009 | 12:52 pm
Reached San Diego Wednesday (July 1st) night. Worked from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
pratibimbha's place on Thursday. Went to LA on Friday, saw Seaworld on Saturday. Just lazing around today. The initial plan was to go back to LA, but decided to have a proper lazy day for a long weekend. Might catch a movie and laze around on Black's beach(thanks to kirkal).
Not too many pics this time. Been mostly about having fun and catching up with a good ole friend. Monday(tomorrow) I head back to Seattle. Need to be up at 4:30ish as the flight's at 6:30 in the morning!
Loved this place...awesome weather, kinda laidback life and a nice South Indian restaurant to boot. All of it of course comes at a massive cost. It sure is quite an expensive place to live in.
pratibimbha's place on Thursday. Went to LA on Friday, saw Seaworld on Saturday. Just lazing around today. The initial plan was to go back to LA, but decided to have a proper lazy day for a long weekend. Might catch a movie and laze around on Black's beach(thanks to kirkal).Not too many pics this time. Been mostly about having fun and catching up with a good ole friend. Monday(tomorrow) I head back to Seattle. Need to be up at 4:30ish as the flight's at 6:30 in the morning!
Loved this place...awesome weather, kinda laidback life and a nice South Indian restaurant to boot. All of it of course comes at a massive cost. It sure is quite an expensive place to live in.